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.

Yesterday’s Gone

From Wednesday 5 November:

It is gray and cold and raining here in Paris… My alarm drug me painfully from a mere four hours of sleep, when really i needed twelve… my head is spinning from sleep dep, brutally interuptted REM, caffine jittery nerves…

yet i crawled from bed straight to my computer to read the news, and my excitement has been growing ever since; i’m wandering the chill streets singing ‘it’s a beautiful morning,’ smoking on a balcony high up under the fridgid gray skies, crying, really truly crying, tears of joy and disbelief…

OBAMA is PRESIDENT ELECT!!!

And I did folks, I cried. Not once, not twice, but at least three times. Every time i stopped and thought about what this really meant, what could really be possible. It was overwhelming. I stayed up as late as I could the night before, the fourth, completely exhausted and knowing I had to work in the morning, I finally succumbed to the need to sleep when early counts showed Obama with a clear lead. But I remember 2000, and I remember 2004, and it wasn’t enough to let me sleep easy. Things could still go all to hell. It’s happened before, and before, and I guess there’s a sizable chunk of me that wasn’t ready to believe it wouldn’t happen again.

But it didn’t. Pinch me and knock on wood, it’s real. Change is coming and anything is possible.

Maybe it was all that sleep dep that lead me to emotional tears in the aftermath… but I think really it was something more. I remember so clearly sitting on the sofa at my sister’s, all our votes cast, watching the tallies come in in 2000. I remember the devastation, the disbelief of the week after, all of us pleading with Gore not to give up. How different things could have been. I remember stopping my combine in the middle of midnight dark fields to listen intently to news reports and half-cocked presidential speeches on September 11, 2001, and crying from fear at the future i heard foretold in Bush’s voice – a man already obviously clearing his path to war with the entire middle east. I remember clearly the darkness that followed, watching incredulously a nation that stood by and let him do it, bought his lies, time and time again. How could this be real, I asked myself time and time again, how can people not smell the shit, not be angry?

And after a while, I gave up. On people. I have often joked, while living here in Europe, that if the American people voted another Republican into office after Bush, I wasn’t going back — there’s just no future in a country with that many idiots. Then came the campaigns, and though in the past I have indeed respected McCain, the thought of a man who sings ‘Bomb, Bomb, Bomb Iran’ taking office in times like these… And then he bought the party line, and then he (or the party) choose Palin as a running mate… And then I was really, truly scared. My joke of old became something terrifying to contemplate: a new age of utter darkness and unending war.  Were people blind enough to choose that? Obama was leading and leading, but what if, what if the election went all to hell again?

And when I woke on Wednesday 5 November and read the news… I cried. I cried for having won. I cried for an end to darkness, ignorance, and hatred. I cried for the hope and promise to come. I cried for a bright new leader in troubled times. I cried for a new faith in the American people.

“America, we are better than the last eight years. We are a better country than this,” – Barack Obama

Don’t stop, thinking about tomorrow,
Don’t stop, it’ll soon be here,
It’ll be, better than before,
Yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone.

- fleetwood mac, don’t stop

today, today…

I know I haven’t written much in a while, and there’s a lot that i’ve meant to say in the last month, especially on this topic, that, well, i’ve let slide. and for that i’m ashamed (as well as for my poor spanish), but all the same, i’m getting it together in the final hour to at least make my one little contribution:

DON’T FORGET TO VOTE TODAY!!!!

too little, too late? perhaps. perhaps i should have gotten on the ball a while back, urging people to get registered and whatnot, amognst other things. but is it still too little too late? i think not! the last step is remembering to actually GO VOTE!!! and this is just as important, if not more so, for those of us abroad as those back home! if you haven’t already, you can still mail a write in ballot! HAPPY VOTING!

Now I’ve heard people say they’re not going to vote, for various reasons, including feeling it’s more responsible to not vote if they’re not adequately informed about the candidates… but they’re too busy living-it-up to get informed! well… that is not an excuse!!! this is an important election!!! there’s some great stuff on the web comparing candidates, including easily found wikipedia charts comparing side-by-side the candidates stances on different issues. take 20 minutes, 40 if you need it, read up: and GO VOTE

Now obviously, for many reasons, I’m inclined to tell y’all: VOTE OBAMA — some of these reasons include the very personal fact that I want there to be money for education in the coming months (guess what — I’m coming back! but that news is for the next email), that I want to see my country go in a positive direction for a change, and that I think sarah palin is the most frightening thing that could possibly happen to america…

but all the same, your vote is you business, just make sure you cast it (or post-mark it) TODAY!!!

love and happy voting,

ebbie

shit, they know!

you know, i’ve had this funny feeling lately…

little hairs on the back of my neck…

like someone’s watching me…

SHIT! they know! they’re gonna deport my ass!

seriously though (knock on wood) i’ve been in one place too long… still waiting on word from the uw, but i got the feeling it’s about time to get a move on… at least for holiday, off to london next week… ciao

well folks, that about sums it up

slow it down, you’re movin’ too fast

apparently my computer has been picking up the cosmic waves that were meant for me… my connection has been choked to a dial-up crawl and i find myself wondering how i ever could have born it, trying to remember how excited i was to get a 256… but all further troubleshooting must wait for tomorrow, the magic boxes locked away downstairs in a housefull of sleeping children.

anyway, the point is…

slow it down, you’re movin’ too fast
you got to make the moment last
just kickin’ down the cobblestones
lookin’ for fun and feelin’ groovy

the point is i have spent the last month or two entirely too preoccupied with always juggling one thing too many at once, overwhelmed by petty stressful details, a convergence of little things that by themselves arent much, but together comprise a migraine waiting to happen. im sure it’s obvious by the rare moments of venting posted here the last few weeks. and stop. it is time to stop.i took sunday off, my first day in about a month completely off, without any little obligations or other things to do, no running from here to there, no just one last thing, no alarm, no nothing. just off. nothing. nada. niente. rien. zilch. fucking beautiful. i mean really, really beautiful. it was a gorgeous day outside, rare lately, but in utter bliss we laid in bed until almost 430 in the afternoon, just lounging. then finally mustering ouseleves up off the sheets to laze about the apartment for awhile, sipping at my coffee, dragging slowly on my cig. just taking our time doing nothing. how fabulous to do nothing. at long last we got dressed, packed a picnic to be eaten the moment the ramadan sun had officially set, and headed out for a lazy walk, a lazy cafe, a lazy meander, a lazy movie, and one last lazy night. even the sex was lazy. and that was wonderful, too.

lazy, lazy, lazy. the best word in the entire english language.

and so it starts with a day. just that one day off. but it’s enough, a chance to re-meld that candle i’ve been burning at both ends til the flame met in the middle of the wick. a chance to think about more time that i’ll take off, soon, and what i’ll do, and all the things i won’t do. i think it’s the latter that excites me the most. though maybe not quite as much as my firm intention to get the hell out of the city while im at it… london perhaps, or maybe galicia… or maybe i’ll go to norway. who knows? i’ve got a week and a few hundred euro coming up… the sky may not be the limit, but the continent does offer some interesting possibilities…

smack, just like that

so i’m counting my pennies to see if i can afford to go get the 70€ maroon woolen hoodie i’ve had my eye on for about a year now but could never quite justify. really, i should have picked it up in august, when everything was on sale, but cold wasn’t yet on my mind seriously. i’ve got my heavier winter coat here that i brought back from the states, anticipating while the spring chill still held that i’d be freezing come winter, but it’s not quite cold enough yet to bundle up to snowboarding extremity.

i would like to simply layer a hoodie with my vintage burgandy suede leather jacket, my favorite jacket, a gift from kevin at a vintage store on 6th ave in tacoma years ago, the perfect article of clothing that layers well and looks good, but you see… it’s in the bathtub downstairs, drenched in water, hanging to dry enough that i can haul it to a specialist.

why?

well, the entire bottom half was soaked in red wine, a burgandy no less, and though i know water’s not the best thing for leather, seeing as it was already halfway there, it seemed best to at least try to change the wine back to water.

but why, oh why was my favorite burgandy coat soaked in burgandy?

because it had the misfortune of being in the bag, strapped to the back of my bicycle, with all my groceries, including some whiskey and wine, when my happy ass got hit by a car. at least the whiskey stayed intact.

smack, just like that. lady blew a red light (after slowing down no less, but thank god), and smacked right into me: my bike going under, me going over, a ready made lesson for the girls about prepositions and the dangers of crossing the street.

i’m ok, just shook up. and now coatless. sumbitch. though, is there any clearer sign that a break is needed? stressed out beyong belief by petty details and working too much without any real break, getting sick, on the rag, exhausted, and then… bam! hit by a car.  hell of a week, hell of a month.