It Gets Better

I know I've been posting a lot of videos this week but this needed to be done.

What I Did Over My Summer Vacation Part II

In August I flew to Chicago to visit my friend Melissa and attend the Lollapallooza music festival. The entire weekend was, without a doubt, one of my tip-top mountain top moments of the summer. It would be impossible for me to really talk about the whole thing without becoming a crazy rambling person. So... just a few notes.

1. There were somewhere upward of a hundred bands, musicians and groups that performed during these three days. We were able to see about twenty of these including: The National, The New Pornographers, Lady Gaga, Arcade Fire, Frightened Rabbit, B.o.B., Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, Mumford & Sons, The Temper Trap, Matt and Kim, Green Day, Rogue Wave, Grizzly Bear, Switchfoot and Hockey (these are just the ones I can name off the top of my head). Anyone paying attention to some of my music playlists over the past year should know that all those names together were enough to throw me into fits of glee.

2. I don't like humidity. My hair specifically does not like humidity and I ended up having to wear it curly for almost the entire weekend.

3. I could have handled the humidity on it's own but couple that with being outside ALL DAY surrounded by thousands of people who are equally sweaty and sticky? Gross. At the end of each day, the moment we re-entered my friend's air-conditioned apartment it was all I could to not not throw myself into the shower weeping with joy.

4. Cicadas are creepy. And loud. But kind of perfect.

5. Say what you will about her, Lady Gaga puts on a pretty damn good show.

6. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes are one part sixties-throwback, two parts pure love. I fell in love with this band when I first heard “Home” on Community and that song still fills me with lovely fits of joy. And now I think I know why.  Of all the bands I saw that weekend they were the one that seemed to best exemplify the spirit of a music festival. And I do believe that the organizers underestimated the size of the crowd they could draw because we ended up packed in with a couple thousand sweaty fans into a too small venue. (Other than the Lady Gaga concert it was the most "crowded" I felt all weekend). But somehow it just became part of the experience.

And at the end of the show, it was obvious that the crowd didn’t want it to be over and the band ended up coming back out for an encore (the only time I saw this happen over the weekend with a band that wasn’t headlining). The lead singer asked everyone to sit down and miracle of miracles people found a way to do so. He then walked out into the crowd and sang the song “Brother.” It was moving and lovely and for a moment I could almost imagine that it was forty years ago and we were in the middle of the Summer of Love at Woodstock. 

7. It rained on Saturday morning, which made for some pretty muddy conditions. Honestly, I wasn't too horrifed by it through because it felt like a nice respite from the heat (plus it made for thinner crowds) Unfortunately, the clouds burned off fairly early and we were once again left with suffocating humidity and and sweaty crowds of Lollapalooza revelers.

8. Another favorite Lollapallooza moment came at the very end. Arcade Fire closed out Sunday night and it was, for lack of a better term, epic. I can’t imagine another band being more suited for the moment. Arcade Fire already has a grand quality about them with their seven members switching off violin, cello, guitar, drum, keyboard (and on and on) playing duties. When they’re on stage they exude an energy that is completely infectious. Although, I have a feeling that the crowd of thousands they were playing for contributed to the energy on that field. It was the end of three long, hot and tiring days and yet for that hour we all seemed to gather the energy to dance and sway and scream the lyrics together. They last song played at the end of their encore was "Wake Up" and it was absolutely beautiful. Hearing thousands of people belt out in unison the "Oh-ooohs" with crazy abandon was nothing short of breathtaking. And as luck would have it I found a YouTube video of the moment. 



9. I love Chicago. Not that I would ever live there because again - Humidity + My hair = Frightening. But it really is a lovely city. The Thursday before Lollapalooza Melisa and I took the entire day to walk around the city, find some good food and hit up Sprinkles for some yummy cupcakes (yeah, I live in L.A. but it took a trip to Chicago for me to have my first Sprinkles cupcakes).

Perhaps one of my favorite aspects of the city is that it actually has a dependent and useful transportation system. Sounds like a weird thing to love right? But it lends to an unmistakable energy about the city - rumblings of different train lines, the footsteps and chatter of commuters walking to work, blaring taxi horns...  there's life in all that.

Each day we took the train into the city and spent the commute listening to music and watching episodes of Community on our iPhones (and I would choose this over an hours worth of freeway traffic in a heartbeat.) And each night, after an exhausting day of walking and standing around, there was nothing like the relief of sliding into those vinyl train seats and curling up to enjoy the ride home. Saturday may have been my favorite night because we were on the 12:30 am train and most of our riding companions were fellow Lollapallooza-goers or drunk bar crawlers. As you might imagine, this lead to some highly entertaining antics. And lots of singing.

10. Each night of Lollapalooza closes out with dueling headliners. Friday it was Lady Gaga/The Strokes, Saturday it was Green Day/Phoenix, and Sunday it was Arcade Fire/Soundgarden. The acts would play until 10:00 at which time the entire park would spill out onto the streets of Chicago. I'm almost positive that the regular citizens of the city did not much appreciate having tens of thousands of crazy drunk people screaming and singing down the streets. But for me? It pretty much cemented this weekend as one of the most epically beautiful ever.

The last night, after the final strains of Arcade Fire's "Wake Up" drifted off into the night, we directed our achy and tired feet toward the exits. We were sweaty and sticky and covered in beer and mud but we were exhilarated after three days of music and fun and laughter. As we moved with the crowd onto the streets I even half wondered if we would even make it the twelve or so blocks back to the train station (I had been on my feet so long that they were actually swollen in pain). There was a sense of bittersweet melancholy as we walked away from the park for the last time but even blocks away we could still hear the swell of people singing the "Oh-Oh's" chorus of "Wake Up." Maybe it's cheesy but at that moment I felt a sense of camaraderie with these strangers and I knew that I would never forget that moment or the entire three days preceding.

Thanks for the memories Lollapalooza 2010.

Things I'm Loving

1. The Hunger Games

I had heard a lot of talk recently about the release of the third book in this trilogy, Mockingjay, and everything seemed to point to it being something I would enjoy so I bought the first book while I was at Target the other day. After a few days of it just sitting around in various places around my house I finally picked it up last night at around 10:30. And I COULD. NOT. PUT. IT. DOWN. Which resulted in me staying up till about 3 am to finish the dang thing. My eyeballs were ready to melt out of my skull but it was so worth it - really well written and thought-provoking and riveting. I was completely caught up in the world of of Katniss and Peeta and this strange North America That Was.

I've always had a weird fascination with these post-apocalyptic/Big Brother-taking-over kinds of stories where human character is tested: The Giver, Brave New World, The Road - books that ask, when faced with the direst of circumstances how will we respond and react to the world and each other? And yes, sometimes it's extremely dark and brutal but also just so lovely at the same time. Kind of like life I suppose.

Needless to say, I'm on my way out to pick up books two and three right now.

2. AMC

So, I was going to give this spot to Breaking Bad because I've been main-lining that show like a heroin (IRONY) these past few weeks and am just absolutely blown away by everything that this show chooses to be. But then Mad Men waltzed on in this week and punched me in the face with about eighty-seven different emotions. So, AMC in general? I love you.

I started in on Breaking Bad actually for silly reasons (I saw Aaron Paul hanging around at Lollapallooza and thought, hey I should watch his show) but then it completely sucked me in. These characters are so well-drawn and believable. I simultaneously hate them and love them. Walt is a complete badass and scary as hell at times but at the same time I can't help rooting for the guy. And Jesse is a whiny entitled idiot but I just want to weep for him because despite it all he still feels so innocent. And in almost every single episode I find myself at some point all curled-up and tense at wondering about the fate of these characters. I'm loving it and hating it at the same time because it's SO good but it's destroying my soul in the telling of this completely devastating story.

And speaking of devastating: Mad Men. Holy goodness, Jon Hamm. You sir, are an actor. This past episode killed me. Don and Peggy bonding and leaning on each other and yelling at each other and being so truthful in a way hardly anyone on this show every is - it was just beautiful. The last scene where he holds her hand? Still makes me a little choked up just thinking about it.

Yes AMC, thank you for your deliciously wonderful programming. This is quality.

Oh! And I find myself a little stupidly excited for The Walking Dead. I think this might go back to what I was saying above about my weird fascination with post-apocalyptic themes. Check out the trailer.





3. Lollapallooza Artists

I still really need to do a blog dedicated to the entirety of Lollapallooza but right now I'm just focusing on some of my new favorite artists that have come from the event. Namely, Mumford and Sons, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes and The Temper Trap. In the case of Edward Sharpe, this was a band that I already loved; "Home" is one of my favorite songs right now and will probably always remind me a little bit of 2010. But watching them live is a completely new experience. First, their set was probably one of my favorites from the entire weekend. It was also probably the biggest hippy-dippy-love-fest I've ever been a part of (This band EXUDES love and happiness). I've since been listening to the entire self-titled C.D. and it's the perfect companion for a drive down the coast with the windows down. (Fun/sad fact: the seed money to record their first album came from Mr. Health Ledger *sigh*).

I also knew The Temper Trap previously. Or rather, the one song "Sweet Disposition" from the "500 Days of Summer" soundtrack. But the entire CD is pretty fabulous. Every song is something unique and ranging between the upbeat "Fader" ad the smooth "Soldier On" that accentuates the crazy high falsetto of the lead singer.

Then there's Mumford and Sons who are adorable Aussies with a folksy sound. And... I don't even know what to say. Amazing lyrics and harmony. It's hard to choose a favorite song but I'd have to say that The Cave is pretty high on the list. It's one of those songs that makes me want to get up and DO something with this life.


4. Threadless.com

If I could live in a tee-shirt and jeans forever I would. And this website would keep me in tee-shirts for life cause I would buy almost everything. Like this design which has been sold out forever. But I WANT.

5. Blueberry Vodka

It's like you're not even drinking alcohol. Which yeah, kind of dangerous. But it's all good. Just throw a splash of lemonade in there and it's like blueberries are having a party in your mouth! Plus you get drunk. And sometimes that's fun.

I'm Having a Moment

I can maybe understand why people get so easily addicted to drugs. Not that I'm personally into any illegal substances (that you know of mom, what what? - TOTALLY KIDDING). But there's something deliciously thrilling about being in a state of perpetual blissful high. Right now, my drug of choice? Life.

Life and friends and family and music and writing are lifting me up in a way, right now, that is hard to even describe. There's that whole Miltonian idea of Felix Culpa, a fortunate fall. Sometimes you have to know darkness before you can know light. Or, put another way, life has to really, really suck balls before you can appreciate the beauty of everything else that is there.

Now, yeah, obviously my life never got that dark, nothing completely tragic struck me down. Just a couple of crappy people and some bad decisions. But a year removed from all that muck and I feel like there is this constant light of happiness shining over me and I'm probably going to start freaking people out with my overzealous optimism and joy right now. (Seriously, how depressing was I that now every time I post something positive on Facebook people are like, WOW, WHO ARE YOU?)

So what's good?

Well, the next month is going to be filled with traveling and visiting friends and the Lollapalooza Music Festival in Chicago and really, this is all I need in my life - some amazing music, people to laugh with, and places to go and see and explore. And then I can come home and write about it all. This is my life. I like you.

Also, on July 1st I went to a promo shoot for some wrap-arounds that NBC is doing during a Community marathon tomorrow night. And let me let you, this day was incredible. There really are no words. Ken Jeong and Joel McHale were present and I'm not lying when I say that they were ridiculously kind and sweet and AMAZINGLY funny. And I got to spend five hours with them shooting these promo clips and laughing and oh yeah, now I'm going to be on NBC tomorrow. Say what?

Yeah, look for me. I'll be the girl with the WTF? expression as Ken Jeong whispers INSANE things in my friend's ear while sitting on her lap. Yes, this happened.

These things also happened:

Joel McHale tweeted a picture of me 

Joel McHale clearly thinks I'm awesome

These things feel surreal and not normal to my life. But hey, I'm up for change.

Also, did I say I have amazing friends? Cause I do and right now I feel like I'm wrapped in this constant cocoon of support and encouragement and love and hours long phone conversations about nonsense and friends who text me pictures of cupcakes when I'm sad, and genius people who flail with me for three hours at IHOP over television shows and writing, and okay I'm rambling like an idiot.

But life right now, is a beautiful thing and I'm having this moment and eating it too.

(I don't know what that means. Ignore me.)

LOVE.

City Street

I am born in the middle of the week. In the middle of a hospital. In the middle of a busy city. My parents hold me close and count all ten fingers and all ten toes. The nurses bustle in and out. In the room next door there is another sharp cry. Down in the city below a steady stream of business men and women cross streets and hail taxis.

You are born on a Saturday. Local news channels report record-breaking heat and monsoons. Your mother almost passes out after you take your first breath. Your father holds you in front of the hospital window as lightning streaks across the night sky.

I see the Pacific Ocean for the first time when I am three. I run across the beach in a pink bathing suit. My mother leads me out to the water. Her belly is growing again. They tell me I’m going to be a big sister. The wet sand is squishy between my toes. The water sprays up and I run away shrieking as a white foam wave chases me to shore.

You are four when you break your first bone. You’re climbing a tree with your brother and a branch snaps. You hit the ground and can’t breathe for a moment. Your arm is bent at an odd angle. You don’t cry much but your mother almost screams when she sees you. You’re in a cast for six weeks.

I fall in love for the first time on a Tuesday. I am ten years old and wear my hair gathered in a large pink scrunchie at the side of my head. He makes me laugh and my stomach begins to feel funny. I slide down in my seat and wonder if he will turn to face me again. The teacher stands at the front of the classroom and talks about fractions. The dry smell of chalk is faintly in the air.

You fall in love for the first time on a Sunday. She goes to your church and wears bows in her hair. She sits next to you in class and answers all the questions. Two hundred miles away I turn around in my sleep.

My first broken heart happens in the middle of July. I spend my days working and he comes to see me and tell me at lunch. When I get home I curl up in my mother’s arms and cry. She strokes my hair and offers me chocolate. We eat a tub of Rocky Road that night and watch three romantic-comedies in a row.

You have sex for the first time at her house. You are both nervous. It’s awkward and afterward you lie next to each other and stare at the ceiling. She holds the sheets against her body and you think about how she used to wear bows in her hair.

I have sex for the first time after a late night study session at the library. We are laughing and high on caffeine and lack of sleep. The sofa upholstery is scratchy against my back. He kisses my neck and tells me he loves me. There are tears in my eyes. Outside the moon is low in the sky, full and round, surrounded in silvery wisps of clouds.

Your first broken heart happens in the middle of her second year of law school. She drives two hours to tell you. You stare at a dry patch in the grass while she speaks. A door slams a couple houses down and she is gone.

I meet you on a Thursday. It’s the end of August and the air conditioner is broken. You walk in and make a comment about inflatable pools. I laugh because it’s too hot to think up a comeback. Later that night I will recall the way the corners of your eyes crinkled when you smiled.

We kiss for the first time on a Wednesday. We are watching a movie and I can’t even pretend to know the plotline because we are sitting so close and I have never been so acutely aware of someone that it’s made my toes curl like this and I’m thinking too much. And then you get up to leave and there is this voice screaming in my head and then suddenly you’re there and your lips are against mine as I practically breathe you in.

We have sex for the first time on a Monday night. It is frantic and hurried and full of want. You whisper words against my hair. I am shaking. My toes seem to pulse with electricity. The room falls away. In the morning you will find crescent shaped marks from my fingernails in your back.

We are married on a Saturday. In the church of my childhood. The bridesmaids wear green and we eat cake and dance until midnight. My feet are aching and your dress shirt collar is hanging open. Afterward we collapse onto a hotel bed and fall asleep within minutes. Down the hall a pair of lovers moves in gasping rhythm with the night

You almost leave in December. We’ve been fighting again about money and I’m crying into the phone as tears roll down my cheeks and under my chin. I’m sitting against the refrigerator door when you pad into the kitchen in your bare feet. We sit next to each other and talk until the sun comes up. You don’t leave.

Our daughter is born in the middle of the night. The contractions have been strong since we finished washing the dinner dishes. I lie on the floor in the living room. Counting. You run back and forth between rooms. We arrive at the hospital before midnight. I ask for drugs. I am worn and tired when they place her in my arms. She holds tightly to my fingers as I curl her tiny body against mine.

We buy our first house in our fifth year of marriage. The children run up the stairs to claim rooms. James helps you lug in all the furniture. We stay up late that night, cross-legged in the middle of the living room and unpack a box labeled “Knick-Knacks.”

It is June when our family first visits the Pacific Ocean. The kids pile out of the car and run toward the water. I have made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for everyone. Susan dives headfirst into the waves. I hold Davey’s hand as he walks toward the water. The sand is squishy between our toes. The water sprays up and he runs away shrieking as a white foam wave chases him to shore.

We receive the call at 2:23 a.m. My heart pulses loudly in my ears at the sound of your voice. We drive toward the hospital in silence. Four days later I will lay a yellow rose on my daughter’s casket.

It is a Monday. Or a Tuesday. Or many days when we sit around the dining room table. We lean back in our chairs telling stories. Lucy tells a joke she heard in school. We laugh so hard our bellies ache. Later that night you move against me, whispering into my hair. The rest of the house is silent and still.

We dance at our son’s wedding in January. There are lilies in the bride’s hair. He rests his hand over her ever-growing belly and they laugh. You stand and say something with tears in your eyes. A photographer snaps a picture as you kiss the top of my head.

We fly over the Atlantic Ocean in the middle of the night. The vast waters are spread out beneath us in inky darkness. You hold my hand when the plan lurches suddenly. Two hours later we step out of an airport into blinding sunlight. Buses and taxis whir by in a blur. Strangers walk past murmuring in an unknown language.

I lose you in the middle of January. It’s been a long fight. Our children cry at your memorial service. I hold little Jenny on my lap. She asks about grandpa. I sit on the edge of our bed that night with your pillow in my arms. The night quiet is disturbed by teenagers laughing as they run up the street.

I learn yoga in the middle of my seventy-sixth year. It is Lucy’s idea. She and her husband want me to move into their house. I look at the framed photos scattered across our walls. There are marks in each of the door frames measuring our children as they grew. I wake up each morning and make my own coffee and try to master Downward Dog.

I die in the middle of the week. In the middle of a hospital. In the middle of a busy city. I don’t feel much. Someone is holding my hand and saying something far away. I love you. Down in the city below a steady stream of business men and women cross streets and hail taxis.

Happy Valentines Day!

So, I could sit here crying into my keyboard because it's Annual Singles Awareness Day and blah-de-blah, once again I'm spending it alone... however, I'm getting a little tired of being bitter. I feel like this huge portion of my life has been spent moaning over the things I DON'T have and the way my life ISN'T and how everything could be better. When in all truth, I have a pretty good life. I spend the majority of my time being happy. I have a job and a roof over my head and food in the cupboard and friends that make me laugh and a family that never ceases to amaze me - so what's there to cry about?

Sure, there are things that I'd like to change, but instead of complaining, how about I get up and do something? I could sit here and curl up in a ball today because I don't have a boyfriend to bring me flowers and chocolates or I can be thankful for all that I do have and I can just enjoy all the sunshine and love in my life.

There are people in this world that I love, people in this world that love me and I can rest in the comfort of this knowledge. For now, that's enough.

until never and again

fists clenched (hold on, hold on, please).
crescent indentations of red
etched into the palms of my hands
but still
it slips, slips, slips

pulls away from me until my fingers grasp at empty air.
it is weightless, I am weightless, floating, helpless
nothing left
to do

but fall…

through all this strangeness,
chaos controlled by months and days and years,
through a shimmering wave of gossamer weave -

when you’re gone and you’re here and you were never really,
anything more than a flicker in the distance
of possibility

but

you smile, and I fall

sinking into you but I’m only falling
into whispered sighs and the want, aching want, so wanting that it needs.
the press of your body against mine, the frantic undress of your lips, fingertips,
arms wrapped around, over, between, everywhere

my skin is alive,
it jumps, electric

pulsing, pulsing, pulsing…

Oh.

your tongue tastes like vodka and half-truths and I drink it in,
thirsty, desperate…. until…
drunk off nothingness

i am empty

gone

fingers cannot unclench, they do not know how.
holding so, anchored, sane
a tightly wound coil that is ready to spring

At….
….any….
….moment…

… falling, weightless. Everything into nothing.
Alone with my memories and this fall, this constant fall,
this rushing wind in my ears, this

drip, drip, drip like a leaky faucet.
tap, tap, tap at my brain

a drum beat.

bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum, bum-bum

I lose my fucking mind.

(stop)

please, please
pick out the little pieces of my brain, my heart, my soul
that contain you, every inch of skin you’ve touched,
lips, throat, inner thigh.
the moments that contain you, wherein you exist
so wholly, so you

take them. they’re yours
they murder me,
leave me slain, bleeding, an empty corpse…

…twisted and tangled in confusion
nothing is as it seems (seemed)
and everything is everything

weightless and heavy. light and dark. lost and found. love and nothing

you and me…
you and…
you…

(wait)

you are me and I am you and everything all rolled into one shapeless formless mess of bones and hair and skin and veins everything all that I have ever met and known and thought or considered you are part of this uncontainable universe that is ever changing pushing outward swallowing whole everything that lives and breaths and loves and dies and…

me

you are a moment,
incandescent happenstance

(end)

you smile, I return

…let it slip away

a long ribbon waves back to earth
I stand and watch (destroyed, glad) as
a single balloon floats away toward the clouds,
stretching up and away and gone.

The Greatest of These

In the beginning there was a place.
And in this place there were some people.
And these people had a story.

XOXOXO

The morning dew clings to blades of pale yellow grass,
begins to slide slowly off leaves as the day warms.
Wispy pink clouds are light on the horizon
– illuminated by the steadily rising sun.
The air is crisp, biting cold red-noses, as they walk
slowly up the sidewalk of that familiar street,
Their hands, wrinkled, clasped tightly between them.
His breathing is heavy.
Her knees are sore with aching pain.
They are quiet.
There is only the sound of a songbird calling to a mate
high in a tree above them.

XOXOXO

The television screen flickers silently,
casting a strange blue glow about the darkened room
as the clock in the corner reads a bright green 1:09 a.m.
A brown tabby cat is nestled onto a cushion in the corner,
its ears flickering at any sudden noise.
The girls are curled up on either end of the sofa,
clad in pajamas and wrapped in warm fleece blankets.
Their eyes burn with exhaustion and grow heavy but they do not sleep.
They talk and talk and talk as the minutes tick by.
A chorus of giggles startles the night.
The cat perks up in alert, looks around the room sleepily,
Then falls asleep once again.

XOXOXO

The long shadows of dusk begin to fall over the yard.
A window is illuminated by a warm yellow light.
They sit around the table, leaning back in chairs,
Smiling.
Children giggle and make faces.
Steam curls in lazy circles over the top of mismatched coffee mugs.
A half empty glass of milk is accidentally over turned
and the sound of laughter echoes out over the ever-darkening day.

XOXOXO

Tulle and lace flutter carelessly
as a soft breeze stirs the warm summer day.
White lilies, so carefully arranged, nod in response.
Everyone waits anxiously, murmuring in hushed tones
To the soft melody of a single violin.
He waits for her, his skin already sticky with the salty sea air,
his hair tussled lightly, his feet bare in the soft sand.
She walks toward him, practically shaking with excitement,
Her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Their hands meet, fingers twining together as the waves continue
 to sweep across the shore in a steady crash… crash… crash…

XOXOXO

The room is filled with the soft murmur of voices,
the low hum and beep of machines.
A light glows overhead, fluorescent and harsh.
A pair of eyes strain to open in this too bright, new world
and then flutter shut once again.
She watches carefully and a tired smile eases onto her face
as she smoothes her finger over soft skin.
Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes.
She shifts the bundle in her arms, leans back against the pillow.
The child stirs – a tiny fist waving in the air – and then settles again.

XOXOXO

And the place was made good
And the people were made good

And the story was forever.

Butterflies

lightness sudden melting weakness

a flipping flopping fluttering wave under my ribs

brief feather light touch brushing smooth skin

inhale deep sweet air fills my lungs

heart pounding blood in veins pulsing rushing in ears

smile eyes lighting up the bubble of laughter

consuming warmth down tips of toes fingers clenched

knees tremble

words (you know) voice words words words

a pink spreads up my cheeks betrays

up through the roots of hair on fire burning

thought unbidden a secret a dream whisper close

eyes closed exhale