blender

I've spent a lot of energy trying to blend in over the years. I think that's part of what makes this blog such a fraught space: there's no other voice to pattern myself after or to drown me out. Hence my long-standing pattern of emerging and retreating, which happens both here and in every day relationships. We all do it to some extent. Standing out can feel dangerous. Hell, sometimes it IS dangerous, especially when you toe the gender line in a world where people lash out at individuals that don't fit neatly into socially constructed boxes. But most of the time, I am not in that kind of danger. I simply have trouble being seen, even in what some would consider the safest of environments. And now for the short version(s) of what goes on behind the scenes:

straighten your dunce cap
so when thoughts bubble you can
put a lid on them

//

laugh when they laugh and
follow the leader so well
no one knows you're there

//

turn questions around
laugh, scoff, dodge, retreat into
your silent corner

And here's a gratuitous mountain picture to return us all to the peaceful place (assuming you like mountains).

both pictures: hiking somewhere in the woods near Berryville, VA, 2011, cross-processed slide film 

imaginary friends

At the beginning of August, I had an opportunity to get some rest and hold down the animal fort while my partner went to Maine with friends OR I could rearrange some clients, schedule a last minute cat sitter, and drive 10 hours alone with the dog after having just come home from a 12 hour drive from West Virginia. Judging from the opening picture, you can guess which choice I made. It was one of the longest drives I've ever made, which is saying a lot. It ended with Waze telling me I was at my destination when in fact I was across a small channel of water from my destination. This minor detailed added 25 minutes of windy roads because nothing in Maine comes easy. Add fog, an unmarked fork in the driveway that no one warned me about, and not having eaten dinner, and you have one very cranky Me on your hands. I will admit to making the trip considerably longer because of my driving mania, which manifests in taking small roads off the highway (sometimes the occasional fire road that dead ends into a pond) and stopping for pictures, such as this:

 

The manic journey was well worth it because I ended up having an incredible few days in Maine with Charrow, our friends and their almost 3-year-old. We went berry picking, currant picking, river swimming. hiking, running, and on our last night we saw 3 shooting stars in the span of 5 minutes. One of our hikes was on a semi-maintained trail that runs along the Machias River:

We originally started that day by driving 2 hours south to Acadia National Park, but we got about 10 minutes up our first trail and felt smothered by the hordes of people. I will say this, we gave up quickly, which allowed us to drive 2 hours back to the wilds of Machias and still have plenty of time for a 5 mile hike on the Machias River Heritage Trail during which we saw a total of 0 people until we reached the major connecting trail. It should have been an incredibly relaxing hike, but I kept seeing little piles of smushed berries that I was convinced were bear droppings. I've never seen a bear and the prospect of seeing one with our decidedly idiotic prey-driven dog scared the crap out of me. He had proved his lunacy the day before by trying to attack a porcupine (boy was that a messy and expensive mistake that I may make into its own post). We had no way of knowing what the dog would do should we stumble upon a bear or vice versa. Charrow scorned my paranoia, but we kept seeing the piles every 5 minutes and they were right in the middle of the damn trail. After awhile, she caught the fear, and we decided to sing ridiculous songs to supposedly scare away the phantom bears. We started with I'm Gonna Be (500 miles) by the Proclaimers, but that gets old really fast, so we moved on to the very catchy and adaptable call and answer Jewish bible song called Three Wandering Brothers (the internet wants me to call it Three Wandering Jews, but Charrow disagrees). I wish I could remember some of our made up verses, but they're long gone, much like the bears we never saw. I think Red picked up on the anxiety...

We finally turned off the densely wooded trail and onto a main thoroughfare, complete with a man driving a four wheeler. It wasn't technically any safer should we happen upon a bear, but there's nothing like logic to create a false sense of security. And now for the short version of that story:

lazy river hike
fresh berry scat underfoot
sing sing sing! now run

All pictures taken near Machias, ME with film (Portra 160)

impossible anniversary

A year ago today, Claudia Emerson passed away. I'm not sure how to write this, and I want it to be as incredible as she was, but I could work on this post for months and never get there. So I will settle for whatever comes out. She was a beloved college professor of mine who entered my life at a time when I needed her humor, her high standards, and her presence. She was the kind of person who asked "how are you?" and then waited for the real answer instead of walking past before you've finished saying "fine." We met for coffee several times after I graduated, and each time, she greeted me like a friend even though years had passed between visits. A few years ago we became Facebook friends, which created the illusion of closeness and made her passing all the more devastating. There are beautiful tributes written by people who are far more qualified. To save us all (you 3 people who read my dormant blog) from my sentimental ramblings, I will close with 3 haikus (that I also feel compelled to fuss with and am somewhat embarrassed to post, but this month-long exercise is about consistency, not quality).

structured and playful
wide smile generous with praise
billy goat at heart

//

I used to show up
at your door with no purpose
but to hear you laugh

//

workshops and first drafts
intrigue scrawled in the margins
don't you dare be late

today's picture is of the Bell Isle Pedestrian Bridge crossing the James River, taken before attending her memorial service on December 11, 2014, iPhone

haiku with poo

The first night we had Red, I cried in despair because the dog was too strong, too wild on leash, too insane about the cats, and just too much of everything (including too cute to give back to the rescue). In many ways, it was the wrong decision to keep him. Neither cats nor dog have adjusted to each other, as evidenced by the daily occurrence of dog yodeling and cat hissing. Given Red's propensity for trying to eat small furry things, we continue to keep them segregated, which is a huge drag. BUT, in many ways, keeping this silly dog has been one of the best decisions ever. We have made friends we never would have stumbled across in our pre-dog lives. We spend more time outside than ever because of our sometimes overzealous goal to make the dog tired. I can't think of any other reason that I would be walking through Prospect Park at 7:30 on a Wednesday morning, and I'm grateful for the chance to connect with something outside of my monkey brain. When we go hiking, he tears through the woods like he's never seen a chipmunk in his life. When he gets tired, he stops underfoot on the trail and looks up at you like you're the one being an oaf. When you scratch a certain part of his neck, his lips draw back in the goofiest dog smile. He farts while we eat dinner and he gets hiccups when the braver of the two cats confronts him at the edge of his crate. And when I come home, boyfriend is always wagging his tail, albeit sometimes from the comfort of his napping spot because he sees me every day, does he really need to get UP to greet me? Surely we would have more money and get more sleep without a dog, especially one prone to accidents, but we would have a lot less silliness, connection, and unfettered play in our lives. I meant for the last line of today's haiku to be warm and fuzzy, but this is what happened instead:

steaming winter poop
muddy feet after spring storms
stop stealing my seat

top pictures: hiking in upstate New York late this summer, cross-processed slide film; 
bottom picture: hiking in Shenandoah National Park in June, film 

bring me a shrubbery

I've always loved being outdoors more than in, but I've developed a serious hiking bug over the last two years. Symptoms include, but are not limited to: daydreaming about hiking while running, cooking, commuting, breathing, etc.; reading books by hikers; reading books about hikers; irritability when too many weeks have passed without a hike; compulsive checking of my instagram feed, which I have flooded with outdoor enthusiasts; and trying to convince my partner that we should hike the entire Appalachian Trail (i.e., delusions of grandeur). Thankfully, both partner and dog are willing to humor my insatiable need to be outdoors (and to stop for pictures).

Today's accompanying haiku (hikeu?):

leaves brush my ankles
quads burn up the mountainside
full lungs quiet mind

(picture taken sometime this summer, Housatonic River, on the AT north of Kent, CT, film) 

december to remember

Dear blog:

I think of you often, but when I sit down to write, the words seem trite. Would it be better if I composed in rhyme all the time? Doubtful. But I've decided we should get reacquainted for the month of December, so expect a slew of mediocre haikus, pictures of trees, and if I get really ambitious, there might even be a few semi-colons. To start things off, here's a haiku I composed while talking about haikus with an old friend:

dearest gingko tree
your yellow leaves cheer me but
damn your smelly fruit

Sincerely,
the overthinker

(picture taken in 2008, Piedmont Park, Atlanta, digital) 

Moving on up

Another year, another apartment. That's right: for the third year in a row, we are moving during the holiday season. On Friday, we will move from the 2nd floor to the 4th floor of our current building. Yes, another intrabuilding move! which makes 2 in 5 years. Clearly we do not like change and will try our damnedest to stay as close to "home" as possible.

I've been toying with the idea of doing one of those "year in review" posts, which I imagine is just a sneaky way to avoid the pile of empty boxes in the corner. Real time update: I tried to write the review, but I got as far as April before I realized I do not have the blogging stamina for that kind of exercise. I got about 5 hours of sleep thanks to the combination of an enjoyable New Year's Eve party, an exercise-hungry dog, and off-leash hours that end at 9am. I can't muster the energy needed for such an excavation, but I can give you a few highlights.

1. I already revealed this, but it counts as a huge adjustment, so let's say it again: we got a dog! a young, energetic, cat-crazed tank of a dog that has introduced major amounts of guilt and joy into life.

2. I survived the first semester of my mental health counseling master's program. There's no accompanying picture because you can't capture the insanity wrapped up in such an endeavor. Let's just say the workload was WAY more intense than I expected, and the class participation proved to be exhausting, but ultimately gratifying.

3. We ran two half marathons. The Annapolis half in May with my mom and the Hamptons half in September with a couple of friends from Brooklyn. Running over huge bridges is one of my favorite things to do, and the half marathon is a great distance.

4. We ran the Philadelphia Marathon for the 3rd year in a row. I won't share our actual time because pace is a touchy subject in my book, but I will say that since our first marathon we have shaved off over an hour from our total finish time. I still can't believe we run marathons because at one point in my life I expected to be relegated to the world of biking and swimming forever. The picture is near the halfway point of the race, at which point I always wonder why in the world we decided to run the whole distance.

5. I went to what I like to call "banjo camp" at Warren Wilson College, which is near Asheville, NC. It was a week of musical highs and introverted lows because of the cafeteria style eating arrangements and the social atmosphere. At every single meal, I forced myself to sit with new people or to find people that I'd already met. This may sound like nothing to some of you, but for me it was a collossal effort, which proved to be totally worth it because I made some great friends. I also got a chance to visit an old friend that I hadn't seen in almost 7 years by taking a circuitious route to VA beach on my way down to the mountains of NC. It was worth every extra mile.

6. Charrow took me to see Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers at Town Hall in NYC. It was one of the best concerts I've ever attended. It fell on the heels of reading Steve Martin's autobiography, so I felt like we were BFF's for the whole show.

7. I turned 33, and I realized that I should only plan nature-based events for my birthday. Charrow traipsed around Manhattan with me like the supportive and good-natured person that she is, but I had a lackluster day that left me feeling aggravated, overfed, and exhausted. Next year: a hike!

8. I spent an inordinate amount of time posting pictures to Instagram, which is something I resisted for a loooong time. There are way too many pet pictures and mr. Pear cameos, but I don't care because it makes me happy.

9. We took a short, but fun-filled trip to visit friends in PA that involved chickens, friendly neighbors, and many, many walks in the woods with the dogs.

10. I became an aunt! And then promptly had absolutely no time to visit my new niece, but I stalk her on the internets, and I try not to think about how I'm not around to make sure her first word is "poop."



11. I stopped procrastinating. Who knew that was even possible? But I managed to work on every assignment I had throughout the week instead of pulling all-nighters or waiting until the absolute last minute. It was a strange and liberating experience, and I realized that I don't need the pressure of timing to do well.

It's not comprehensive by a long shot, but those are the events of 2013 that stick out in my addled mind. Now it's time to get lost in the box menagerie for awhile.