Dearest Bernie Sanders,

   You are a True American Hero.
You stand in the face of corruption
and, with love, simply say, "No."
You came from almost nothing
and created the spark of Revolution
in so many hearts; You turned
false claims of impossibility
into real, thriving Hope.
No matter what happens,
Dearest Bernie,
You have already won.
[LET LOVE GROW]


... My thoughts this morning of the NY primary.

Please vote for whomever you see fit but, please, do your research.

forever a beach baby

i live down-port Jefferson. i sit on my queen canopy bed and look out my bedroom window onto the boatyard and harbor. Livin the dream. i am grateful to live so close to one of the cutest parts of long island, and my favorite pastime here is walking around the village or along the coastline.  this little tidbit is the first part of my journey- walking across the street to an opening in the fence, climbing over the docks that are stored for cold weather, but somehow still staaaank. SeaWeed- now that is some Funky Fishy Smelly Green Sh*t. [interlude: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zzrh5GftgzM] I am an ocean baby tho so NBD and watching the harbor is the highlight of my day.

in this poem the fall moon-rise is symbolic of the female rising to rule spirituality:

(first draft) -alice through a looking-glass

     a Moon rising

 over the boatyard:

a small opening or gateway. followed by

a wall of docks thigh high

a need to climb, get self up, and gaze into

a field of docks, acknowledge the cleats

and the gaps . . .

aware, walk forward watching

all the dangers immediate and

necessary points of sure footing until

Your footing is sure enough and

I skip across leaping and laughing.

[. . . scents of seaweeds. . . .]

as I teeter along the edge of

        the last dock

    in My Path

          I realize I

forgot the docks would end,

forgot this sea is concrete.

with a slight singe of nostalgia eye

          lay

        unrest

        down

spot My Ladder in the lot- a trailer
protects these weak knees so I descend

and to My Joy realize I can walk on water.
______________________________

______________________________________________________________________

be

                          BE
All of those years I thought it was me
Convinced of the fear, desperate to see
Ran ocean to ocean, desperate to flee
And then there was the calming of the sea.

poetry from a younger self

some stuff i wrote in early years of undergrad .. i just want to get some stuff up to start expanding this blog, if only to practice writing for a [possibly non-existent] audience. I've always been extremely hesitant to share my writing so i need to start.

LISTENING TO THE PRIEST AT YOUR FUNERAL

I wish I could say I believed.

No fear of absolutes, just sweet God.

Security by merely having faith.

I desperately wish to be naïve,

Guided by obligations.

Then I would know you were whole—

Cold harsh reality

(that you crashed in to a wall,

became entrapped inside your car,

and all that remained was bits

of flesh from your chest)

wouldn’t be quite as aching—

I’d love to rest assured

The way I hold my hand on my heart

And pledge allegiance to the flag

That I’d never lose you.

But you are gone

And I have nowhere to turn.

____________________________

gluten-free

Been bread-free and nearly dairy-free for a few weeks now. Success!, on my way to a Paleo diet. But why does good news Feel So Sad? And Hungry? i feel like i'm breaking up with Pizza. Although i love Pizza, we just cant be together right now.  It pains me; I can't even bare to look at a pie. I already deleted all Pizza's speed-dial restaurants from my phone. I burned all the menus but my favorite one, and stashed it in my bottom desk drawer (underneath random paperwork and next to a photo of my party days). Even though i know i can't order, it makes me feel better to atleast have the number. it's like the ex-smokers who keep a spare pack, to prove their self restraint. Let me convince myself it is self-restraint (but i know it's for emergency cravings). But, Alas! For now, Pizza- Now you're just a food group that i used to know.........


Hehe. i had to......... This diet is for my Lyme or i'd be eating pizza right now.No processed sugar or much fruit, bread, or dairy... ideally, anway. i'm nowhere near there now but one step at a time. Chronic Lyme Exists, and it's damn hard to get rid of. atleast i have an excuse to switch to asian cuisine :)

Happy Valentines Day!

I've been going steady with my lover MaryJane for about 7 years and I still can't believe how happy she makes me, how creative, how alive. I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it! Today is a day for lovers, and as a romantic i'd like to pay tribute to my lover, my muse, with a [parody] sonnet. Rick James sings it well, "I'm in love with Mary Jane, She's my main thang. She makes me feel alright, she makes my heart sing." I love my girl, but, also, she's Sexy As F*ck.

_________________________________________

Reinvented Landscape

To the neglected flower in nature—

The sight of her specimen makes me drunk

With desire, for her bud is so pure.

She cloths in crystals, so lavishly funk,

Still hiding her best gems keeping demure.

Better than a rose, she smells like a skunk!

A sticky touch- I cannot fight her lure.

Other grass may be greener, but she’s a red-haired punk!

To my love, my lust, my dear Mary Jane,

I shall forever protect your esteem.

You have burned your way into my brain,

Given unto me my wildest dream.

Slow this rapid world, discern all I see;

Addiction has set me free.

______________________________

Love You Babe,
                       Al

_______________________________________________________


this was inspired in part by Michael Pollan's The Botany of Desire (i love love love this book). .... Does this make me a lesbian? ;)

Myth as Truth and Bible as Myth

               In a world where religion seems at the forefront of corruption, it can be hard to find any truth behind manipulated words. Now is not the time to discuss exploitation of religious doctrine within organized religion across the world, and I also don’t mean to step on anybody’s toes here. Actually, I believe religious doctrine has insight into some universal truth, but I think it is unfortunate it is used to promote hate. It can be confusing especially because we live in a world that likes to dismantle the stories as being implausible, and therefore untrue. Obviously the words don’t ring literal truths, but on a symbolic level they are far-reaching, and I frequently find similarities between completely un-related doctrine from the most random of cultures. Mythology is another word for religion, because people believed in these stories, just as people believe in the bible. Myths were used to explain the world without science. On a symbolic level, they describe human truths that are innate. In particular, Creation stories are similar in their birth imagery, where earth and water (feminine) meets the sky (masculine) and life is created after 7 months/days/years (a long mothafuckin’ time ago gestation—pregnant lady- was only 6 or 7 months). I will spare you that lecture and try to put it in terms that we all may be somewhat familiar with- Genesis Adam and Eve.

Adam and Eve story as a myth about human development-

            Because many of the stories in the Bible contradict each other when look at from a literal point of view, it was most likely intended to be read as a collection of favored stories; they are myths, what Campbell calls the truest of stories because they reflect and explore our inner sentiments so we can better understand our self. Since the story of Adam and Eve logically contradicts Genesis I (God creates man and woman at the same time on the 6^th day), it better reflects a myth about human development. The story of creation tells the birth of life, earth, and more specifically, when humans are born. The next story chronologically coincides with this notion; Adam and Eve is a metaphor for human growth from childhood into maturity.

            God’s relationship to Adam and Eve parallel and reflect a relationship between parents and their children. God first creates man, placing him in the Garden of Eden and providing him with comfort and food but warns him, “from the tree of knowledge, good and evil, you shall not eat,” (Genesis 2). Here God sounds like a parent telling their child not to touch the hot stove, or not to press that big red button, with pure intentions but nonetheless making it a tempting thought. God then creates woman. They live like infants in the comfort of a parent’s (God’s) house (Garden of Eden), being taken care of, fed, and running about naked without shame. 

Chapter 3 begins with the image of the serpent. The symbol of the serpent dates back to ancient times, representing nature, rebirth and the cycle of life because of the snake’s ability to shed its skin and appear as a new body. The snake speaks to woman, telling her “your eyes will be opened” for eating fruit of the tree of knowledge. The snake symbolizes the life cycle, and it is leading Eve into maturity. The fruit is sexuality- apple-like fruits are an old symbol of sensuality; Eve is on the eve of puberty. Eve remembers God’s warning, “for on the day you eat from it, you are doomed to die,” (G1). If she eats the fruit she is doomed to die because she is beginning a new process of reproduction and moving into a new stage of life. At this stage of life we develop our self consciousness, and idea borrowed from the Epic of Gilgamesh (1^st epic ever, dude) in which Enkidu (the dudeliest of dudes raised in the wilderness) is made ‘civilized’, made self conscious, by the Harlot (revered prostitute, sexy times). The references to opening eyes are not meant to be literal, but a symbol of coming into self consciousness. Adam and Eve eat the fruit, meaning they have sex, causing them know they were naked and feel embarrassed, thus a sign of coming into self consciousness.

With maturity and the end of childhood comes responsibility. God shows up and realizes what has happened. He responds by punishing snake, woman, and man. To women he gives ‘the curse’ of menstruation, which is also a sign of coming into womanhood. She becomes ruled by man, though it is she who is the giver of life for accepting the apple. Man must now work the land to eat, or work to provide for himself. When God expels Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden, He mimics a parent telling his offspring, ‘Under my roof you will live by my rules. You want to live your own life? Go get a job and take care of yourself!’ God’s last statement, “for dust you are/ and to dust shall you return,” reflects that they are mortal, and becoming part of the reproductive cycle brings you closer to death, and certainly the death of naïve freedom from responsibility. With the knowledge of self consciousness, man and woman are left to make their own lives, and ends with a sense of individualism. Therefore, it was necessary for Eve to eat the apple for humankind to gain individuality and grow up, or else they would stay stuck in a childlike state. Hence Eve as the “giver of life”.

So what does this all mean? I don’t have an answer for you, but for me- well, I think it gives me hope. There are things in this world that are sacred, have always been and always will be. It’s beautiful, really..

[I don’t want anyone to be mistaken, I am not a Bible scholar, nor have I ever even taken a theology course, or even any sort of Bible course. However, as a literature major you come across all sorts of religion, whether it is Greek Mythology or Catholicism.]

Assorted Streams?

kinda sorts some streams-of-consciousness. just wrote what i felt. mainly about lyMe dis-ease

           Washed

It's like I'm seventeen nautical miles into
A twenty-two nautical mile race
The open ocean splashing my boat
Wind whipping up white caps
Blistered hands and bloody oars
Almost Empty but Almost There
Don't wanna get too excited and
Burn up my tank
Just maintian 3/4 power
No scale but my soul
I just gotta keep on pushin'
One stroke at a time.
I'll get there.


When I look in the mirror
                   I see the color coming back to my face.
______________________________________________________________

You know what makes me feel
     good?

That,
            underneath it all,

I'm wearing knee-high lime green wool socks.
_____________________________________________________

this one is about dementia caused from late-stage lyme disease, but more vaguely the addictive quality of bad habits:

              TICK

Fact: Clinging to what seems to be
                                            the only way.

There's no way out but in These habits are creeping,
Creeping and haunting Oh so subtly in the backdrop.

Because there are things about ourselves
                                       that we do not like,

But we do them anyway. Tendency
Toward the easy way out can be, well,
All too easy. And who's to blame? We are
Wired for comfort & if that's the way it is
Then that's the way it goes...
Besides, we've all got a lot on our minds.


Escape

      That
           Thing.
Compulsion. Grasping it. Loving it.
Wondering why We would want anything more,


Every once in a while
     We imagine and itch on the thick of our skins.
What is that itch?
______________________________________________________________

All I can do is all I can do
Is all I can do
Is
   all
       I
         can
               do.
What can I do?
_________________________________________________________________________

Because There Are Things About OurSelf
                                             We Do Not Like,
But We Do Them Anyway.
______________________________________________________________

The Moment You Realize You Must Pray
_______________________________

and how do you pray? to each man their own
but there are general trends. the Right words, body position-
the rules are not as important as focus. Look
to your core and open within, wish upon your might
that you want your love to reach, to exert energy
through true heart's will, to love and grasp
that idea in your mind, feel it,
accept it, but pray to that which is
Unknown, Please.


the agnostic girl prayed: "to whom it may concern. . . ."
_____________________________________

okay that's probably enough slam, shit got kinda serious......

Diet/Gym Fads

Okay guys, seriously, I know we all wanna Look Good but some of these gym/diet fads are whack, and really bad for you…

Atkins/South Beach- okay, whoever thought eating bacon all day was gonna make you skinny forever?. Ya, when you put your body into shock and take away a vital nutrition source, youre gonna drop weight quickly, but it is not healthy to trick your body like that. Also, when you lose sight of your diet for just a moment, you will gain twice the weight because your body has been conditioned to the unavailability. The less you eat carbs, the worse they are for you. But I assure you [as a Sicilian], carbs are good for you (in moderation obviously). Pasta has a low glycemic index and releases sugar into your bloodstream slowly, whereas things like corn syrup release quickly giving a sugar rush and diabetes. I tend to think if it’s a food we’ve been eating for hundreds maybe thousands of years, like bread and beer, it’s probably okay for your long-term health. For healthy diet choose your carbs wisely, but depriving your body is not good.

Diet Pills- Give yourself a heart attack and take years off your life, get fat once your off them. Speed will make anyone lose weight, at the cost of their life.

So those are the obvious, but there are a lot of things out there that people trust without looking into the actual nutrition involved, and whether the results are temporary or good for their long term health. Even a lot of the gym fads out there are not necessarily good long-term.

P90X/Insanity- It is genius in its design, in its ability to sculpt your body quickly and efficiently. It breaks down barriers of plateaus and constantly challenges your body, sculpting it with such definition that has never even really been seen before recent times. Back in the day, men had muscles but their burly bulk was more of a hunk than a sculpted washboard. Today we want to etch every line, needing visual proof that the muscle is there. However, it is really not good to push your heart that hard all the time. You will get results quickly but it is because you are inflicting anxiety on your body. Athleticism doesn’t come from killing yourself every day for a month, but slowly building so that strength is more permanent. The best way to judge athleticism is by how low your resting heart rate is, or how well your lungs absorb oxygen. Breaking it down further, the best thing for your long term health is taking a brisk walk every day.

What has being “in-shape” turned into? Appearance? Athleticism seems secondary in this sort of approach. The fact that people get muscular implants is a bit horrifying to me. Although that is an extreme example of that mindset at work, I think many people have forgotten the value of just being healthy. Unfortunately, it is representative of the value placed on appearance. Beauty has been turned into a mold. But beauty is more than a mold, beauty is more than appearance. Beauty is the gut feeling of the sublime when you embrace something not perfect. It has character, it has feeling. Health and athleticism is beautiful, no picture image could grasp that.

first days at Stony Brook University

I need to grow up.

I am currently enrolled in the English Master’s Program here at Stony Brook University in Long Island.

Rolling into the parking lot to pick up my new apartment keys, I stopped and asked a student in SeaWolves attire (school mascot) where I could find the main office. She bit her lip and gave me the “I’m sorry” shrug. As it turns out she had no idea what I was saying and did not even speak English. This was my first encounter with the multitude of international students here, and, man, there are a lot. The exposure is especially in-my-face because I live in graduate housing on-campus which largely accommodates internationals and most of the students from around here live off-campus. I headed to my dorm and set up my room, making sure to hang up my American flag. Next move was to grab a cigarette and a glass of vino and head to the courtyard. There was a group of guys celebrating so, naturally, I headed over and asked “Any of you boys got a light?” *smile. Ice-breaking by fire-lighting- it’s been good times ever since.

My first days here were casual and spent having a little fun but once my first paper was due shit got real serious. It was certainly a shock stepping into class for the first time feeling quite dumb amidst so many intellectuals. Living in Santa Cruz for two years certainly did not help my cause, but more than that I had never been in a setting where everyone in the class was so necessarily involved. My Liberal Arts undergrad work consisted of classes with varying ranges of knowledge on the particular subject; I had little experience with such in-depth discussion. The first day of Chaucer we jumped right into reading and speaking Old English and citing old-school literature and a whole lotta other crazy shit and uhhhhhhh *brainfart. Little did I know that the idea of farting would soon be useful, as Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales is a glorified compilation of crude dick and fart jokes (I have never seen the word “cunt” used so many times on one page = awesome. still the word still makes me just a tad uneasy no matter how many times I hear it). Though Chaucer gives me a chuckle, school is no joke and being surrounded by smartie-pantsies gave me second thoughts about my attendence for a moment. Just about everyone I know is constantly working. Realizing how much effort they put into study sorta slapped me in the face because I have always slid through classes without too much sweat. But now is not for play, now is for work.

My responsibilities need to come first, ain’t no one gonna hold my hand no more. Maybe it took too long to recognize I need to grow up or maybe not but either way it is gonna take practice and drive when I love so much to dilly-dally.

mood: chillen, thinkin of big things in a relaxin way with Jack johnson Donovan and G Love http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rK0LWsEcSjM

just another hippie-dippy

This past week I’ve felt like a crazy lady. My body is going through so many extreme changes (Lyme) and at points I have these intense bursts of energy. It just doesn’t even make any sense. I am loving it because I’ve been so tired and idle for the past 2 years, but, man, I don’t know what to do with myself. Normally I would smoke pot, but aside from my resin experience I haven’t smoked in two weeks- truly a record for me. Obviously I use the energy for school work- but to a degree my brain hasn’t quite caught up with my body. So I’ve been doing a lot of drinking and working out (God I love drinking. God I love working out). You’d think those two wouldn’t go hand in hand but they do for me? I feel like Ram Jam’s “Black Betty” is playing on repeat. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lMLnDuzgkjo Clearly I need to chill the fuck out but I haven’t figured out how yet. Anywho, it explains the burst of ridiculous writing that I hope to continue with a little more focus….

So, I found this tidbit of writing in a journal from 10th grade- it still holds truth:

So many times I have sat
And pondered, here, alone in my room.
So many times I have thought
And rethought my life;
What has been,
What could have been,
And what could be.
Searching though my consciousness,
Indulging into my unconscious
And trying to understand
What it’s all about.

I have always been a (very amateur) philosopher. I never studied it, but I tend to view the world in abstractions, in generalizations, in overlapping patterns. This is my biggest downfall, because of course we live in our reality, one in which has little room for such contemplations.

I may lose a lot of you here, but here I go—We all know that life has so many unknowns. No matter how much you think about something, it never means that you are anywhere near truth because everything is so intricate to a degree that, no matter how smart we get as humans, we could never come close to full understanding. Nonetheless, as humans are a curious crew, it is of our interest to explore ideas. Whether these ideas be as simple as wondering why bad things happen to good people, to trying to find your purpose in life, questioning God, the soul, what it means to be self-conscious, or, further, to wonder how everything fits together. Most people have some sort of feeling that everything is united in some way, but what does that even mean?

As a culture we are very good at reading things empirically, and we tend to decode our surroundings in that manner. There are all sorts of ways to view the world, and empiricism (science, a+b=c) is a very valid way of breaking things down. It is important to realize, however, it is not the only way. If you look at these alternative views you will find that, even empirically, they make sense. For example, a friend of mine practices Reiki. Reiki is Japanese style of healing that has been around, well, forever? It is based upon the idea that there is a life force, an energy that we cannot see- what many of us might call God. The healing does not stop at the physical level, but ascends to the emotional and spiritual level. A sick person is said to have low life force energy. A Reiki master is able to tap into this life energy force and direct it towards those in need. At this point you may be thinking I am a crazy hippie, and I understand where you are coming from. But so many people swear by it, I think I have felt it in my own personal experience (not that that means anything whatsoever), and furthermore there are tests that show decreased blood pressure, effects on the nervous system, etc. However these tests are by no means well-developed. Of coarse Reiki is still unproven because there is insufficient evidence, but I think that the fact it has been around for so long and many people swear by it, brings about the possibility that it works. In the same way we instinctively put our hands on our aches (ever put your hand on your stomach with a belly ache, or your hands on your head with headaches, and somehow –to a small degree obviously- it feels better), we are sending energy and- in scientific terms- you are literally directing blood flow through focus and touch to that area thus helping it heal. Just because we cannot explain this “life force energy” does it mean it doesn’t exist? Because maybe, just maybe, when humans evolve a little more or the advances in science will have a better way of measuring it, it could make sense.
Don’t believe me? That’s fine, I hope that you don’t (lest you are gullible) but what about all the evidence that acupuncture works? Acupuncture is certainly in the same category as Reiki (in this philosophical argument in that it is an alternative form of healing that for many years had no credit in the medical world, but also they are very similar in ideology), except that as of late we are learning how scientifically it works. Acupuncture is a originated from China a very long time ago. The treatments goal is to restore the balance of the universal energy Qi (sound familiar?). Illness is thought to be an imbalance of Qi (Qi “chi” is the natural energy forces). But instead of touching, the acupuncturist uses fine needles and places them strategically into specific points on the body, restoring the balance of yin and yang. Now, there is no evidence that the metaphysical concept of Qi, but how could there be? Not with today’s scientific tools. However, there is loads of evidence that acupuncture works more than 90% of the time. There is actual evidence that shows, that whatever your problem may be, there is hard scientific evidence that your problem decreases. People call it magic, but it is not magic at all. We just don’t know how to describe it. My acupuncturist is a MD who used to perform surgeries, etc. Again, my personal experience means nothing, but acupuncture is no longer a joke to the medical world. The correlations are clear.
Something does not work because we figured it out scientifically, it only helps ease our minds with proof. I’m not saying I believe any of this Reiki/Acupuncture energy beliefs. To be truthful- I don’t. I merely think that it is a possibility. My point is not to prove Reiki or Acupuncture at all, but to show the idea of what we don’t know or understand is still real and effecting us. We tend to accept or dismiss things as ultimatums, but if you want truth you must accept the idea of unknowns.

I suppose my first few entries were really just entertainment for whomever reads this, but what I realize is that I don’t need everybody to be interested- just people who have similar interests or just curious. Sometimes you just need to write things down or share with others just to validate it for yourself…. Not that I plan on being philosophical all the time, because drunken stories are fun, and fun is very important!

Hot Dam!

We loaded our tents, backpacks, sleeping bags, whiskey, boats, guns, mess kits and a mess of other gear into the back of the trucks. Passing Monterey where the desert meets the ocean and I can’t help but wonder if Nature is just toying with me, laughing at the conundrum I laid my eyes upon. But California often does that- that is, it blows your mind with its geologic scenery [if you haven’t been to Yosemite I strongly suggest you at least drive through it. Or Tahoe. Or drive down highway one and stop along any number of beautiful beaches. Or a million places Just go to Cali!]. I wondered what lay in store at Los Padres Dam (northeast of Big Sur).

We arrived and parked, stepping out into a dry dusty lot somewhere in the mountains. The hike lagged as we dragged the boat-loads (literally) up and down the hills of the acrid trail. Just when I began to feel impatient climbing the last hill, a large dam appeared before me. Hot Dam! Swimming was in order. I love that feeling- it’s one of my all-time favorites- of jumping into cool water after physical work- it’s so dam satisfying! After chillen for a minute it was time to pack the boats and start rowing. The gear boat broke, along with 2 of the oars so getting across a couple of miles of water was quite an ordeal. Luckily I was on the first shipment and escaped any extra duty. The open water led to a valley-like setting, with rock mountain on both sides up a meandering path of shallow water. I was dropped off inland on a small patch of sand. While waiting for everyone to gather, a group of tattooed Mexican ex-gangsters from Salinas paddled up in kayaks (mind you we are miles in). At first I felt a bit alarmed, especially when one of them whipped out a shot gun (that definitely didn’t feel right). But they ended up being alright- fairly polite, just wanting a place to drink beers and get away from their wives, all happy as a clam. Of coarse Sandra chimes in with some 2PAC “Shit, tired of gettin shot at Tired of gettin chased by the police and arrested Niggaz need a spot where WE can kick it A spot where WE belong, that's just for us” [ http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kExHaBkEYi8 ]. They loved it. We’re all laughin and smoking pot together by the end.

The journey inward was a combination of passing through flowing streams and hiking along the mountain ridges that seemed to endlessly ascend. Backpacking is really a love-hate relationship at this point, because although the view is breath-taking, it’s literally taking your breath away and you really don’t want to keep moving, tapping into your reserves with every step. Then you reach camp and realize you have conquered the world. We set up camp, sipped on whiskey, snuggled with Whiskey Dog, and passed the fuck out.

Day 2 was the mutha-fuckn shizzznit- hiking around with no packs, just a bathing suit and some water-shoes. It was more like frolicking, really. It was time to whip out the big guns- my bicepts of course. Just kidding, but we did have a few guns and a bow-and-arrow, along with a few other toys. Lucky for me both the rocks and the trees were inviting for amateur climbers, so I had at it (even though normally I barely make it up the stairs hah). We spent a solid hour throwing stones at a rotting log. It was so good. While we swam in the stream the boys caught a crayfish and cooked it. Mr Crawdad’s flavor was like gamey lobster crossed with shrimp. The mini-adventure tasted delicious. At night we huddled around the camp fire and had a feast (in attempt to get rid of as much food as possible so we wouldn’t have to hike it back). Once again I kept myself warm with the Whiskeys- sippin and snugglin, sippin and snugglin, wishin we had more time. I think that night I must have dreamt of that day, a sweet escape from reality.

The next day was all business- pack up and let’s get the fuck outta dodge. The back-track always has a weird feeling, re-crossing a path that was such a mystery the day before, headed back to civilization. It is bitter-sweet, until you finally make it outta there and hit up the first burger or pizza joint you see, then it’s just greasy goodness. It’s funny how that works- getting away is great, but it makes coming home to a comfy bed and computer all the more endearing.


Mood: JJ Grey and Mofro- "Lazy Fo Acre" -but unfortunately i can't find a link for that.
i guess this fits- The Band "Up On Cripple Creek" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EisXJSsULGM

Outside Lands Music Festival '11

60,000 hipsters and hippies gathered in San Francisco for a 3-day music festival at Golden Gate Park. It was unlike my typical picture of a festival- mainly because no one could camp at the park and it was cold (damnit sanfran, you’re always so chilly!). This made for a very different experience- there weren’t even wristbands! None-the-less there were mounds of heads hoping to see an array of kick-ass shows.

Phish was phucking phenomenal. John Fogerty played a CCR setlist, had fun and killed it on stage (how old is that guy? So ancient and still rockin. He killed it when I saw him at Bonnaroo last year, too.). I realized that I liked a lot of Muse songs separately, some were alright, the show was extremely energetic &awesome but as a whole it was so dramatic and somewhat repetitive. Speaking of repetitive- Deadmau5. I was dancing rave status but the sick beats were few, far between, and the same one every time. He builds it up for so long, drops a sick beat for like a minute, then drops it down again into lag. I like the mouse head he wore, and he used a microphone to make his voice female (I don’t know what those machines are called. The show was a little confusing for a 1^st timer). A band called the Infamous String Dusters came outta nowhere and had everyone dancing to some high-energy bluegrass. Who else did I see? Black Keys were sick, MGMT, STS9, and a few other fun shows..but don't listen to my opinion in music, everyone's got their own taste.

  

I feel like I would have a better story for the festy but my personal experience of Outside Lands is dampened by the fact that I felt ill (lymin’) and couldn’t party very much. I was just happy to listen to live music. My friends, however, party like fuckin Rockstars and I still do not know why we didn’t get kicked out of the hotel. We destroyed that place, raging all hours of the night.

Phish "Steam" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZHhqyXx5wz0
Creedence Clearwater Revival "Fortunate Son" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ec0XKhAHR5I
on a somewhat related/not related note: The Section Quartet covering Muse's Time is Running Out
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XRUTf-EsaTY
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CM8zMjvOp5s&ob=av2n

"Much Madness is Divinest Sense?" are you crazy or a genius?

things to be considered: The Avalanches "Frontier Psychiatrist" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLrnkK2YEcE&ob=av2n
.........................

Much of my time in Santa Cruz is spent people watching. Amidst a sea of both crazies and geniuses (mainly crazies hahahah) , it is hard to decipher who is what (people surprise you with really amazing thoughts). If you judge them on how different or outside the norm they are, then all of Santa Cruz is crazy. However this is not true and there is lots of amazing talent here. Over time I have learned to make more keen observations, yet I am still frequently surprised. I could elaborate on this subject for quite some time, but today is about my friend Tom. I work as a barista at a hippie coffee shop where Bob Marley plays on repeat and customers range from well-to-dos to hobos. [It seems like a contradiction, yes, but then again who can resist a hippie speed ball (espresso+weed)?] Many ridiculous/ interesting scenarios occur on a daily basis. Tom came in every day to order his half light-roast half dark-roast organic coffee (which [sidenote] he sweetened with honey. never seen anyone else do that..random..). He was tall and thin, about 55 years old. Every day Tom wore black jeans, a decent button-up shirt with his long-ish gray hair in a ponytail tucked under a crimson beret (sort of a typical look.. he was a mesh of a writer/painter). He would sit outside smoking hand-rolled cigarettes while hand-writing his manuscripts which (from what i saw) was half poetry and half a cultural manifesto. I like Tom; We had many intellectual discussions about life, truth, and human existence (if you didn't already know, i'm a big dork). He's an advocate of the old way of the world, tradition, and form. He gave me some of his work/notes a few times. I won't give my opinion too much because I see where he is coming from but I am just not a huge fan of that style. However I do think it is important to keep it alive. Here is a sonnet thingy from his notes (a social commentary on a historical account. themes on imagery versus truth, manipulation and control, objectification, and criticism of American capitalism.. just the usual afternoon for Tom. he was no genius, but he was very observant and creative):

THEY DIDN'T HANG GERONIMO

They didn't hang Geronimo
But they put him in captivity
Shipped him off on a train
To a land far away.

No bullet could kill Geronimo
So they made him a commodity
Tiger of the human race
To his dyin' day.

Yeah, they'd throng to see Geronimo
When they'd get him as a novelty
At an expo or fair
Or to head a parade.

The fiercest of foes, Geronimo
It piqued their curiosity
To see the wildest Indian
That God ever made.

They wanted a piece of Geronimo
So they made him a celebrity
He died with ten grand in the bank
From the profit that he made.

He got the lasting fame, Geronimo
And later on in history
Paratroopers yelled his name
When they jumped out of a plane.

They didn't hang Geronimo.

By Tom R.

One day Tom showed up in half biker half hippie cloths looking whacked out of his mind but also extremely happy. He said was engaged to the daughter of a Native American Chief and he would be moving to a reservation in Arizona as soon as possible. I asked about his get-up and general attitude, and how different he seemed today. He responded, "Ohh yes, Alice, I'm just letting my true colors show." Unlike his usual cool nature, Tom was a whirlwind and left without saying anything. I heard he came back the next day twice as weird, asked for a free coffee, left and never returned.

What do I make of this scenario? His words rang truth to me but his quick turn around sings crazy man. Can you be both? Yes, but where is the line? Van Gogh ripped his own ear off in a fit of madness yet his work is amazing. Is it as Emily Dickinson suggests, that "Much Madness is Divinest Sense"? If 'crazy' only means far enough outside the norm that those who are 'normal' don't get it, then who amongst those people actually have insight? What is the difference in being different and being delusional. I can't be quick to assume either position, not here. Just another day in Santa Cruz.

crazy sandiegans

Just got back from San Diego.. it's crazy down there. Don't get me wrong, I like (maybe even love) crazy from time to time but daaang.. It is party central down there. Every night and even in the daytime there are parties or bumpin clubs. My first night down I was greeted with a party bus which brought me downtown to nightclub Fluxx. Most of the nightclubs are filled with E heads, House music, and hott people everywhere (for my personal preference wayy too maintained it was kinda unattractive. peeps were obsessed with appearance). The slopes down there will freeze your face off, so I've been told. I felt like everyone should just have a binky in their mouth and turn the city into a rave. Bouncers literally check your eyes to see if your pupils are dilated.
            The weather is probably the best in the country and the beaches are absolutely beautiful. There's great surf if you can man up. The people are super friendly but be careful, they're flaky (not everyone obv.. I had good& bad experiences). They'll walk into your house without knowing you and grab a beer from your fridge. As east coasters we were like, 'and who the fuck are you?'. They didn't think it was weird at all. It kinda felt like a free-for-all and people were just grabbing whatever they felt entitled to. Almost everyone recognized me and my friends as Boston girls (because of our sass mouths, go figure). A cool thing about them was they were all pretty social and I did not see many awkward people. To match the locals I bought a brightly colored pair of wayfarer sunglasses and wore them in the sun. and in the shade. and in the nightclub. and really never took them off. You know, when in Rome..I was stoked on it for suuure.(also LMFAOs Party Rock Anthem def grew on me while I was there. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQ6zr6kCPj8&ob=av2e )
          The trip was great for me because I got to reunite with my best friends, and we always tear it up. I love them so much!
          Sooo.. if you're young and want to have a crazy time in the sun, San Diego is great. yup.

Doomsday & Poetry

Judgment day has come and gone, yet we are all still here. It must be because we're all sinners. We will all suffer in torment for the next 5 months. Bring it on, End of Days! You may have Jesus on your side, but I got plenty of canned goods and appropriate end-of-days clothing, as suggested by religious sanctions. yeaaa.

On another note, here's some just-for-fun descriptive poetry (they're not exactly new material but I can barely think right now so no new writing).

My heart lies with Nantasket Beach. I grew up on a small peninsula just south of Boston. Everywhere you look there's ocean. My backyard was sand. I miss it. Cheers to home....

NANTASKET BEACH

Without notice the sun dashes

in to hiding, protected by a throng

of pewter clouds extending across

the encompassing sky. Droplets begin

pelting down, warning everyone to flee.

Almost instantly every towel, boombox,

shovel, and sunscreen are tossed into straw

bags, raced to the parking lot, and retired

to the trunk. Standing on my porch I feel

my hair curling from the thick moisture. The slightest

breeze tingles my fried summer skin, sending

shivers through every limb. The taste

of rain mixed with seaweed-infested air wafts

toward shore, overwhelming the atmosphere.

Thunder echoes and I count the seconds before

the yellow-white rays jolt

out of the clouds. Lightning

glistens over the ferocious waves.

Absolutely enthralled by its shock,

I soak up the storm before, without notice, it

disappears into the horizon.

This is my favorite part of summer-

Crowds disappear and finally the beach

takes a break. As the sun sets

the sky radiates vibrant pink-red-purple

beams, as though it was blushing.

The pitter-patter of the waves cradle

me to sleep as darkness blankets

every dune.

__________________________________________Nantasket Sunrise___

Here's another silly one (at least the ladies will giggle):

THE BEST PLACE TO CURE A FLUSTERED

HEART IS, OF COURSE, THE SHOE DEPARTMENT.

Aisles upon aisles of flats, straps, boots, everything

from classy to chintzy, striking to humdrum. Carelessly

wandering up and down rows, trying on pairs

as I please. Some slip on easily but pinch, some fit perfectly

but are unsightly, others too small, too plain, too costly.

I’ve been known to give into jazzy shoes, the ones that show

off my legs but leave blisters in the morning. Typical.

Check-out time and I find myself choosing between

classic New Balance sneakers and stunning Steve Madden heels.

Tennis shoes are practical and reliable. Unlike the open toe

high heeled kicks, I could wear runner’s shoes

everyday and let them accommodate every curve and arch

of my fragile feet, lending all the support I need. Pumps

aren’t exactly comfortable, but damn are they sexy. Tango

straps, my favorite color, and a dent in my wallet.

They call my name. I call their name.

They make me forget the last pair of heels I owned

that resulted in crutches. I try them on back and forth,

sneakers and pumps, debating.

How could I possibly choose between the man who

lovingly treats me with concern and the guy

who carelessly sets ablaze my desire?

I’ve come to get away but suddenly

I’m back where I started.

___________________________________________

I try different types of poetry just for fun (clearly amateur but who cares).. more to come.

K thanks for reading :)

Can't Knock It Til You Try It?

Every once in a while you’ve gotta surprise yourself and try something out of the ordinary, something you thought you’d never do. Maybe a tattoo was a little drastic but hey, what can I say? There was an eerie air last Friday the 13^th and the wind caught hold of my sails.

 

A tall ship? A pirate ship? I don’t even know, I picked it off a wall of select $13 Friday the 13^th special at Chimera Tattoo and Body Art Studio(a rad tat shop in Santa Cruz). It was packed. Everyone was so excited I felt like I had to be a part of it. I wasn’t originally going to get a tattoo; I was just there to support my roommates. I don’t like the idea of putting random symbols on your body unless you’ve thought about it (for my body, no judgment to others). Even as I was filling out the consent forms I was like yeaaa probably not gonna do it for real. 

When I saw the ship I thought it was badass. I like the idea of adventure and exploration. I am part Nordic so there is a little pirate in my blood. And I guess it’s always been a little fantasy of mine to sail the open seas forever. Dunno, I may be placing meaning where there is none. It will always be a reminder of my time in Santa Cruz. And, look, it kinda seems like it’s sailing around my ankle, following the nautical star like a true sailor.

My nautical star is the only other tattoo I have, and it took me years to do it. I’m glad I branched out, though. However, I think I’m done getting inked. The boat on my ankle hurt wayyyyy wayyy more than the star on the top of the foot. It’s still sore. My Achilles tendon is my Achilles Heel!

Rene Descartes..a Stoner?

I take philosophy very seriously but I can’t help but wonder, How many of these guys were on drugs? The thought tickles me. Is there any evidence? Through own personal interest I have come across some individuals who are potentially the most famous stoners in history.

“I think, therefore, I am.” We’ve all heard it before. This famous philosophy was proposed by the French mathematician/scientist/philosopher Renee Descartes in the 1600s. But doesn’t it sound a little too familiar? Like maybe a stoner friend came up with it while sinking into the couch, eating Doritos, and tokin on some kush?

How could I possibly accuse Descartes, arguably the most important philosopher of modern era, of being a stoner? Let’s think about his world for a minute. Descartes spent much of his time in France and Holland. Many of his theories were about mind and body duality as well as the connection between geometry and algebra. He was born after the religious wars into a time period that was leaving the old ways of the world behind. New intellectual trends were taking over legal areas, politics, science, and philosophy. Tobacco was introduced into Europe in the mid 1500’s, gaining popularity among intellects and bohemians. You know that picture in your head of the writer who chain smokes? This is where it began. Descartes was a smoker. Smoking somehow stimulated these writers, and was described as a panacea for its medicinal properties. Although tobacco is somewhat stimulating, is it really a panacea, a cure-all? What is usually left out of history books is the coinciding rise in popularity of the use of hashish in Europe at this time. Marijuana’s medical properties and psychoactive ingredients were discovered in China in 2737 BC. From there, it spread to India and North Africa, where it was used recreationally (because Muslims couldn’t drink alcohol). The Middle East loved hashish (along with opium) and furthered the trend westward. Its alternative uses as fiber and hemp helped spread the marijuana plant. By 500 AD, hemp was introduced to Europe and quickly adopted for its medical purposes. By the 1600s in Europe, marijuana had been around and its uses spread to a wider population. Marijuana was smoked by Europeans as a spliff by crumbling up the hash and mixing it with tobacco. Cigarettes during this time were often made with both tobacco and hashish, which better explains why they were called a panacea (weed makes you feel good). In fact, by the time tobacco and marijuana came to the Americas, they were grown in fields alongside each other (including in Jamestown).

So, is it possible that Rene Descartes was smoking a doobie when he came up with ideas on modern philosophy? I think the answer is yes, it is very possible. It is known that he was a cigarette smoker influenced by the intellectual crowd during a time when tobacco and marijuana were often mixed. Yes, there is some information that has got to be missing and no, there is no concrete proof. But is it that hard to believe?

If anyone wants references, lemme know. I prefer to keep them out so maybe someday I can send a legit writing sample to High Times Magazine and have a dream job.

santa cruz v nyc

hmm stay in santa cruz/ west coast for school? or go home and start in the fall
santa cruz...
pros-
has the best bud
good weather
the beach
the mountains
liberal

cons-
liberal
has way too much dubstep
has way too many hippie hobos
and not enough pizza.

NYC
pros-
close to home/ family
city life
people are motivated
pizza yummy

cons-
too busy
rent$
gettin flipped the bird

hmmm what to do what to do..

A New Blog? Go Away, Lymin

I made a blog! I’m no stickler for grammar or punctuation but more concerned with ideas and the flow of words. My inspiration to start a blog? I’ve been silent for 8 months unable to communicate. I need to express myself for my own sake and maybe I can be helpful (or at least amusing) to others.

I know what it feels like to lose my mind. A place where memories fade and thoughts slip away as soon as you conceive them. Chronic Lyme Disease has infected my world. During these times I feel like a helpless child lost in an unfamiliar town, trying desperately to retrace my steps but find myself stumbling through dark alleys. I’m lost in my own head. Recollection is like shuffling through a room of unorganized files looking for one specific piece of paper. I get distracted or frustrated and almost never reach my goal. It strips you of everything you love because all you know is this vegetable state of mind. (the best way to describe it is Alzheimer’s, and people with lyme disease are frequently misdiagnosed as such.)

Almost all the way through my recovery and my brain has only just started to work again. I am feeling better and the fatigue is lifting. However, in this more conscious state of mind pain has a whole new meaning. I can feel the rheumatoid arthritis come in bouts where my knees and back will feel like grinding metal. The muscle aches are a fuzzy pain throughout my body that makes every movement feel like I have just run a marathon and pushed too hard. There are literally hundreds of symptoms, from anxiety to vision/hearing impairments or having bags under my eyes. The worst are the intracranial pressure (a different kind of headache) which make my head throb for a week to months at a time. The pain from this is intense and a constant distraction.

I have had to fight for my life since I was 8. There is not much information on Lyme Disease, and even most MDs are very unaware of the condition or how it works.  This is why I was not diagnosed or treated until I was 10. By that time the bacteria had exponentially multiplied and completely took over my body and I was severely ill. What I didn’t know was that treatment would make my symptoms worse and the antibiotic medication would have adverse effects that are as bad as the disease. But the only other option was dying, so I took it. I picture a war between antibiotic and lyme bacteria, and if either is winning my body is worn out. Lyme disease stole a large portion of my childhood. Age 8 to 14 I do not remember. I did not learn much during those years and did not retain facts or social skills. In my heart that place holds a lost little girl in pain and believing that was who I was, that was my existence. In the recovery years ages 14 to 17, I went from being extremely slow to being moved up to AP courses and athletic. When the disease went into remission the first time, life became so easy and I floated through. All of a sudden I was smart when I had thought for so long I was dumb. It was a very strange experience but I was very grateful in the end.

I am so thankful to finally be able to form thoughts and communicate again. Lyme disease makes me mentally and physically slow so I have immense trouble taking care of my responsibilities and can’t be social the way I’d like to. Emotionally it has been extremely difficult, especially when I know the world will give me no slack. I am currently surrounded by people who do not know me as anything but what I am now. I do not have Lyme written all over my face like other diseases, and people do not see how sick I really am. 

The disease is strange and the severity frequently changes. It is so strange that it’s hard to explain (especially since I have a neurological disorder) and I find myself arguing with the world. I don’t want to do that anymore and I want to be in a place where I don’t care, but it hurts when people think I am being lazy or weird. It’s impossible to ask the world to be understanding when we live in a society where if you are not productive you are not valuable. But there are people in this world with real issues and many of them are ignored. I do not blame people and I do not want to come across as negative. I simply would like to educate others about a condition that is brushed under the rug and hidden. Lyme is constantly and purposely ignored by health care companies- but that is another political discussion best addressed by the documentary film Under Our Skin. Being given a disease also has taught me so much and given me a different perspective- but that is also another discussion for another day.

I have been sick for a year and a half and will be healthy again in 4 months if recovery stays on track. So excited :) !

 Future blogs will be more lighthearted, I promise!