wanna feel yo’ body, next to mine

for the first month or two here, at night i could feel his body in its absence. my body could feel in the blanks, remembered just where his shoulder should be under my head, his arm curled around my side, how we curled together just so. a soft voice whispering sweetly in my ear from thousands of miles away and i’d drift to sleep in his embrace.

after a while, the visceral feeling faded, from forgetfulness perhaps, or necessity. i’d still walk down streets imagining the things he’d enjoy here, what i’d love to show and share, how nice to have his company, longing to hold his hand while wandering along, feel his heat next to mine on cold nights. but the urgency of it dulled over time, superimposed with day to day worries, time drawn long, attention span drawn short. his face in my mind, but the sense of his touch not so vividly present.

but lately, as the months pass and mere weeks, days, remain… twenty to be precise, until i step off a plane at charles de gualle and search for his face in the crowd… as time draws short, the last six months seem like a flash compared to the three weeks ahead, three weeks stretching out with the same unbelievable length six months once held… but as i can feel time draw short, the anticipation builds, i stare off mid sentence, no matter how pressing the thesis i’m working on, walk with purpose and a dreamy distant smile… he is as distracting as a sunny day…

and at night i can feel his body next to mine again… soon.

pitter patter, life goes by

it ’s raining outside, the soft patter, the swoosh of tires on wet road.

i sit and think of my life, rising up in a sworl, evolving before my very eyes, falling apart and coming together all at once… i realize finally the flow and the flux of it all… that it never stops, it is never sure, never certain, never staid.

for the first time in my life, i find myself planning years in advance, thinking about where i want to be, with who, and what i want to be doing, adapting to the ever changing circumstances, pondering life, love, happiness along with the practical details… realizing that i can’t keep straddling the line, waiting to see what might be an option next, but must make concrete decisions that take me down unknown paths…

it’s, maybe, just a little freaky.

take it as you will…

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,  year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here…

flamin’ torts batman!

first try, and moderate success…

flammekueche just became a staple of my diet once again…

as will many other tartes fines, as soon as i find a container to keep ‘em frozen…

then on to quiche lorraine and other varieties!

hot damn. i’m gonna survive in this country afterall ;)

(minus the baguettes, croissants, super stinky cheeses…)

too much

i just want too damn much in life… and too damn much that just dont fly ensemble… vaffanculo…

evolving roots

back to the root, back to the root… causal argument after causal argument, this phrase is burned in my brain.

i need to get back to the root, back to the root of who i once was,

so i put in old songs that take me back to that day, that time, that place…

i want my old friends, i want my old face, i want my old mind

fuck this time and place.

but that’s not true either

i dont know where the truth is, what the truth is, just that it’s crashing down on me, overwhelming sensation, waves of nameless feeling, demanding my attention.

i look to the past, look for answers, solace, where once i found them. look for that angry, empowered voice that can remind me what it means to be alive. find a champion to my cause, rooting me on through the surround sound, sparking again that fire inside, just enough outside vision to lead me out of here. i find the old songs don’t fit, not quite, so i move forward on the timeline, see if my old prophet has new words of wisdom. something to show how the situation has evolved.

evolving… this situation is evolving, the work in progress is something of force and beauty and new complexity, stretching all the old norms… the key is in the past, and the here and now, and in depths i’ve yet to plumb.

i have changed, and things are not the same. all the old issues, some resolved, some lying in wait, have morphed, gone through a chemical change, have become something new yet the old. what i was looking for, i still seek, but it’s become… something else, something more. those driving forces have distilled with time, taken on a new complexity, a stronger kick. i am still me, yet i am not.

soft and low

four hours… for over four hours last night, i cried, i bawled, i wept, i sniffled…I’m surprised, really, that it took this long. a tear here or there, but no moments of utter breakdown… jusqu’à hier

three hours in, i tried to blog, to distract myself… the draft lingers on the dashboard… three hours and counting it says… not much more, too many tears… not an effective strategy.

four hours in, and nine hours away, he calls; au français, soft and low, i finally find a way to say where it hurts… and he listens; just as soft, just as low, tells me it’ll be alright, how he misses me and wishes he were here, what he’ll be dreaming of tonight… but mostly he just listens. he’s there, calling when i need him, reassuring, and five thousand miles, his arms find a way around me.

and that is why, despite logic and reason… i love him.

which really, really, doesnt make things any easier.

we’re in bat country now

between cold medicine and caffine, my head has plunged into a sense hunter s. thompson’s vegas… following his wise example, i try to take the edge off with a bit of whiskey… this damn paper still isn’t finished, i’m obsessing and stressing… tunnel vision closing in, a bit more whiskey and spinning off to bed…

some minor complaints

some minor complaints about being back stateside…

• public transportation: actually, this is a major-bitchin complaint, just get me going. it’s ridiculous. i feel like i’ve had my legs cut off. it takes longer to ride the damn bus down to olympia, a mere 60 or 70 miles, than it would take me to catch a train from paris to london. hell, it takes damn near as long as it would take to drive across state to walla walla. and the litany of grievances goes on and on, from scheduling, stops, information, and the lack of a properly civilized metro or trains system. sumbitch.

• urban sprawl

• shitty walking, for the most part. grids are dull, as are strip malls.

• 1+2+3 = car culture dominating EVERYTHING. i miss living someplace where all the things i could need are within easy walking distance…

• i’m getting fat. decreased daily activity… shitty food in excessive portions… the pounds are coming slowly but surely. worse, when i first got here people kept marvelling at how thin i am, when really i’m just not overweight… at least not too much… yet…

• which leads to fat people. i know it’s not pc, it’s not kind, and doesnt take into account that really i do appreciate diversity and the fact that we all have different bodies… but the lazy, obesity-inducing culture, and its visible results, just irritate the hell out of me. if it makes y’all feel any better, i still hate bulemic twigs.

• self-righteous anti-smoking fanatics. i may smell like smoke, but ya know what? at least i ain’t fat. ha. (that is particularly aimed at a group of very large mexican girls in my econ class who bitch about the smell of smoke when i sit near them… i’ll let ya know if i ever pipe up with it). furthermore, the original anti-smoking fanatic, in case you’re curious: Hitler. bad company yo.

• cell phone service. at first, i thought service in europe was expensive, but i see clearly now how much more reasonable it was. f’ me.

• cheese. bread. croissants. produce. and so on. i miss quality over quantity. at a reasonable price. and goat cheese, i really, really miss goat cheese.

• while it is indeed nice to have a six pack of IPA in the fridge, i miss the wine. oh how i miss the wine.

• the fact that i feel foreign in the place from whence i came. stranger in a strange land, and all that jazz. i can’t even see the loop.

• the serious decline in my sex life. my hand is not a persian god. and i really don’t know how much longer this can last. nevermind that that decline in aerobic activity is probably also contributing to my weight gain. i need to do some sport! but on the other hand… boys who speak english are just so dull… it’s so much more fun waking up with someone you can barely speak to. what’s a girl to do?

and that should just about cover it for the moment. and now that i’m done procrastinating… back to my paper. f’ me.

a small token peep

my, my, it has been so very,  very long, hasn’t it?

fifty seven days, to be precise… assuming i post before midnight… though i’m already at fifty eight if one counts the time difference… but then again, who’s counting?

and there were so many deep and grand thoughts along the way, so many things just waiting for a few moments to sit, contemplate, articulate…
so many lost to the fog and the fug…

and here i am, almost two months into my grand return, feeling for the most part even more removed than when an ocean stood between myself and this place. i feel alien and uncertain of the terms of daily life, frustrated at details, flabergasted by changes, overwhelmed with the things i’m trying to do, yet inspired…

and i’ve yet to make contact with more than a handful of people, i’ve written not a word, neither here nor in email, in ages, though i’ve thought of it and closed the window more than once when nothing clear came to mind to say…

everything is distracted, and focused elsewhere, and though i’m not chronicling it yet, much is going on…

and thus i click post, though it’s crap, to at least have finally clicked post…

bisous et bonne nuit

je pars

and much like i arrived,  i part:

sleep deprived, nuerotic,
a little excited, a little hysterical,
a little heartbroken, and dead broke.

à bientôt paris, tu me manque

j’attends

looking at the phone, he still hasn’t called.
the fourth night, and not a whisper, not a beep, not a buzz.
rien.

pride wars with desire.

as i leave the metro, spacious with it’s lack of crowding, i can’t help it: i glance backward, with a foolish hope to catch his eye in the crowd.
but it was one in seven million the night we met, less now that the tourists have gone home and the streets are cold.

our first fight, not even a fight, just a moment, has morphed quickly to our first contest of wills, pride, power, miscommunication. who will call first. i long to text him, vraiment? tu ne vas pas m’appeller? but realize it would be first contact, concession, and still my itching fingers.

though i realize the stupidity of it all, i can’t make myself give up my higher ground… really, his is just as high.

and each night, i check the display again and again, for a missed call, an sms that crept in quietly while i wasnt looking…

rien.

with hope and love (for Jodi, Susan and Cody)

hey folks,

my old friend Jodi just posted this yesterday, she’s had some difficult times lately but has found hope through them, and is now facing a daunting altruistic task with courage and determination. i wanted to share her story with you all and hope that you will find a few moments to send her your love and prayers.

and just to clarify, yes, Jodi is a woman, and yes, she is in a committed relationship with another woman (the Susan mentioned below). While i dont think it should make a difference to anyone of open heart and open mind, i wanted to be clear so no one felt misled, since i know some of you are of a more conservative bent and that this touches on what can be a sensitive issue for some. i would hope that politics can be put aside for the more important calling of reaching out with goodwill and loving hearts toward our fellow companions on this earth.

Jodi is a wonderful, caring and loving person who i have known a long time, and has found hope and love in a difficult time, and wants to share that hope and love with someone who truly needs it — and we know just how sad and hopeless a place the foster care system can be for a young, displaced child. i cant think of any better reasons to pray for her and her family (whatever your beliefs or manner of doing so) and send love and good thoughts to people who need them, to hope that they can find new hope in a life together.

thanks for a few minutes of your time,

-e

—
A tiny favor…

So, as many of you know by now, my mother passed away early Halloween morning. It has been a very long two weeks for me and my family, but I know that she is in a more enlightened place, and I have begun the process of moving on.

The reason for this bulletin (and accompanying blog) is because while I was in Texas last weekend for her funeral/ash scattering ceremony, I discovered that I have a 5 year old cousin in the Las Vegas foster care system. I knew instantly when I heard about him that I loved him, and I believe that he deserves to be with family, in a loving and supportive environment that I know Susan and I can provide.

This last week I have been taking the steps to find him, and to bring him home to live with me. It hasn’t been an easy process, mainly because I don’t know much about my cousin Cody, and I can’t get in touch with my uncle (who is in and out of jail & rehab, and does not want to be found). I know that Cody has been in foster care for the last year, and that he has behavioral issues (most likely from being abandoned by his drug addicted parents).

I have been warned by lawyers and child advocates that it will be a lengthy and expensive process unless I can find my uncle to have him help in this process. I have been warned by my aunt that Cody is a troubled kid and will need special attention, and probably therapy. I have been warned that because he’s in Las Vegas and I’m in Seattle, I will encounter difficulties getting Nevada to transfer him out of their jurisdiction. I am limited with the amount of information that I can find out, because the NV Department of Children and Family Services “doesn’t give out information to just anyone.” It seems as if at every turn there is someone or something in the way of making sure this child has a loving, permanent home.

So, I am asking for a favor.

I don’t want your money, and I don’t even want much of your time. I would like for you to pray….or talk with your gods and goddesses…..or speak to the universe. Whatever way you choose to communicate with your higher power, or just the loving human community at large, please do it now. (Repost this if you’d like, it couldn’t hurt to have more people thinking positive thoughts.)

Please send your positive thoughts into the universe for Cody. Please pray for this process to be as quick and painless for him as possible. Please visualize a speedy homecoming. And please send your love to Nevada, aimed at a little boy who seems to be lost in the foster care system.
Thank you

to the masses

so, since i’m too lazy to do more than copy&paste, here’s the last year of my life and the big changes to come, in a nutshell, as just sent in a long overdue mass email, for all y’all i don’t have an address for, that might be interested… later in the week i’ll try to succintly post just what’s coming up, and other thoughts of random interest, but for the time being, here ya go:

howdy y’all… (click below to read the full disaster)

In the criminal justice system…

you know procrastination has officially set in when you start watching back to back law and order. it’s just a fact of life. there are only two possibile diagnoses when this symptom presents itself: severe depression or severe procrastination.  since i don’t feel too apathetic or suicidal, i will presume it’s the later case. though, perhaps, if i manage to keep putting off all that i’m putting off, it may move in that direction when i realise just how terribly fuct i am for not having done the things i need to do.

and boy is there a lot. not faire des courses, running around, pick up the groceries and kids kind of stuff, no immediate daily timeframe. but a long list of little preparatory things, many that require consistant effort over time, as in a little every day, that need to be done before i hop a plane outta this country. things to finish here and things to get ready for there. sumbitch. where to start? that daily yoga? french grammar? eiffel tower and versaille? shit, i still need to go to the louvre! plan my schedule! Tour the siene! find out if i’m really going to get enough financial aid! check out that little jazz bar around the corner! Remember how to consistantly pretend to be intelligent! fuck, where to start?! and writing people and reconnecting and getting things figured out and fixing my cv and looking for a job and will i have any money, and jesus fucking christ i just keep thinking of things and it’s overwhelming and … and… and…

fuck it. this post is officially over. back to law and order.