mini-golf me!

Last summer, when I was in leelanau with ml and my dad, we woke up on our second day there, and we went swimming in Lake Michigan. After showering, we began the drive home, and I was sad because we had not done much of much amazing fun-ness on our trip, beyond simply catching a sunset and eating some tasty food.
I noticed a mini-golf place that ml said we'd gone to when we were younger, and I begged them to go. My dad, despite needing to get home, decided that we needed to play mini-golf, and so we did. We played 18 holes involving stupid pirates, water traps, several almost-lost golf balls in waterfalls that stank of chlorine. We played another 18, and then I was almost giddy with the mindless joy of it, though I was losing. At the end, I was sad to leave, sad to say goodbye to summer, to let another birthday-roadtrip go by. So Ml decided that we should get ice cream.
We went to the ice cream place attached to the golf place, and we had ridiculous dairy-ness. I don't even remember it, but it tasted like childhood and tennis in the summertime and random roadtrips in august when the air is thick, resistant. The whole few hours felt like an entire day of reminiscing, of feeling somehow more real than normal. After ice cream, we headed home, and I think I remember falling asleep beneath the sky, in the back of the car, with my ice cream and caramel mostly eaten.
It was perfect. And I am thinking of it now, longingly, thinking that maybe we can do it all over again this summer: me, my dad, my sister. I am thinking that no matter how many times I fall down and feel shitty (metaphorically), there is always one of those moments where the minutes pass like rain, illuminating the valley and waking me up to my own numbness.

THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING
THIS IS A PICTURE OF US GOLFING.


When you've run out of pictures, use words.

Truth and Dare

Right now, I am supposed to be hanging out with my friend S, but she thought today was Wednesday and so we canceled. Right now, I am supposed to be reading and commenting on outlines instead, so that my students have the opportunity, rarely taken, to read their outlines with 4 days to revise, but I am not. Right now, I am supposed to be studying for my Hindi quiz and writing an application essay for a last minute grant app, but I am not.
Instead, I have just finished making my first collage in 6 or more years. It is a statement on how I feel torn between 2 selves that I could become, one that is undefined yet confident and strong, and another that is defined, professional, and passive. One is not clear to me, and I do not know how to become him, while the other is what most people seem to want me to be to them: empty yet fulfilling their needs/desires. I am terrified of both paths, knowing that one is my choice and the other is my most likely future. Or a mixture of both.
Instead, I am listening to Mazzy Star and feeling nostalgic for something like sitting under a blanket in a house that i love with my cat, reading. Which is odd, because I did that yesterday, though it was far-too-late-at-night, and I was losing sleep. I miss having moments in my everyday where I am left breathless by the peace, joy, or passion of something, someone, or someplace.
I miss feeling so unabashedly and fully that I cannot help but smile and laugh to myself, bemused by the universe.

Dare: I would slide down the stairs on a blanket if you asked.
Truth: I am terrified of having gallbladder surgery, and of later paying for it. I am terrified of living in another city this summer far from home. I am terrified of trying to find a job and of traveling for my research. I am terrified of all my favorite people leaving town this year.



Dare: I dare you to tell me something true and beautiful.

fake Candy heart

I am sitting in front of my computer, trying to write a book review and do my Hindi homework and go to bed so that I can get up at 7:45 AM and go to class and do work and do office hours and go do something with a friend that I barely remember what it is.
But I'm stuck.
Because I feel so much like me today, and I'm a stubborn bastard. I am in this moment, so much more than I have been in time lately. I am chewing candy hearts that my mom sent me and savoring the sugary spikes of flavor: was it banana? lemon? orange somehow? I don't know, but I'll try again.
I'll try again.

I'm listening to Radiohead and hoping that the next song to play on the pandoralist I've made will be Creep, but I know it won't be. I know but I don't care. I am happy right now, because my roommate came back today and I am not angry at him for being a bit unstable. I went to a soupbowl with my best friend here, and I am not angry at her for ignoring me so often. I am probably going to go find a Russian foods store tomorrow instead of doing something more productive, go wander with a friend, maybe try to convince her to go see Coraline. But these are all just pleasantries.

I am sitting on the window ledge in my mind, looking out and letting the wind in. I am smelling the hyacinth on the real ledge, behind me. I am remembering what it feels like to walk down the street and feel the sky above me.
I'm not sure what it is; but it feels good and I don't want it to end.



I think it might be spring, coming; I think I hear her down the road.

A Thought and a Song Lyric

The other day, I was walking with a friend. They turned to me at some point in a stumbling conversation that seemed all too normal, composed of things unsaid and already said, and they said, 'you're one of my favorite people in this city'. And I returned, 'well, you're on of mine too--no seriously, you're one of the people I like most, and probably one of the only ones who will be here next year". And after saying it, I realized that I'd meant it, that this was not an attempt at politeness, but in fact, sincerity. And I'm not so sincere anymore.
So my week has been good.
Because lately, I've been worried that I am not so good at feeling;
I'm pretty sure I just need more sleep.

This song has been in my head all month:

Now if you think I’m wasting your time again
I’m wasting your time
when you pick me up in duty free
that’s when I thought i’d be the cross in your t
or must see tv

but if you think I’m wasting your time again
no, you’re wasting mine
when you’re playing for a prime-time dream
the c n b scene
now I’m just another split in your seam the I in your team

ooo please don’t get too excited
oooo maybe you’re not invited to my action adventure
my action adventure dream

so when you think you’re on the fast track
you find it’s just a cul-de-sac back
in that adult lifestyle community
where all your little boys, your action toys are duty free

ooo please don’t get too excited
oooo maybe you’re not invited to my action adventure
my action adventure dream

so I wonder what you got your persona for
cause there’s a 2-for-one down at the corner-store
and I wonder could ya pep it up a bit
you know throw a fit
you go ahead and dance
i’ll just sit

but if you think I’m wasting your time again
no, you’re wasting mine
when you’re playing for a prime-time dream
the c n b scene
now I’m just another split in your seam the I in your team

so I’m looking at the back of my hand again
I’m looking at the back of my hand again
to what end if I can’t even find a goddamn pen "

I'm not wasting your time; you're not wasting mine. That's a rather rare thing, so let's just savor it.