somewhere i have never travelled: May 2006

Monday, May 29, 2006

Why I Love Oakland

There aren't many reasons, but this is one:

You put something outside on the sidewalk with a 'Free' sign, and overnight, it's gone. No hauling fees! No worries. It's great.

So far we've gotten rid of four tables of various sizes, three old computer monitors, some semi-working stereo equipment, some pictures, some other various kitchen items, and three printers.

Woohoo!

We've also sold the queen size bed and Terri's old set of speakers, and someone is coming over to look at the big bed tonight.

Yesterday when we went to the new place, the neighbors in the next-door apartment complex were outside being noisy teenagers. It was happy noise, but noise nevertheless. We were worried. However, I think the white-noise machine we have will take care of any nerve-jangling neighborhood noise until we get used to it all. At any rate, the space still feels good and we're getting rid of everything we don't love. It's great.

Now, we're off to IKEA for new garbage cans, laundry baskets, a TV stand, etc. Anything to bring new, happy energy to the new place. Leaving the bad juju behind. I'm excited. It's a lot of work, and it's disheartening to know that this isn't our 'landing' place, it's just the best we could do for now (until we can finally settle someplace big/quiet/affordable enough for us to just STAY), but still. New, fresh, sunny, pretty, breezy. It will be good.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

A Good Day

Today was very, very good. Slept in, had a good creative phone meeting with the women's magazine visionary person, headed over to the city for a day of beautification with Terri, got terrific news about her doctorate degree, had a great lunch and closed down Macy's. Whew. Very successful.

Terri got: a haircut, new facial products (including some face-brightening cosmetics!), and the news that her dissertation is completely accepted by everyone and they are scheduling her oral defense for June! We were so excited and thrilled. She got the message on her voice mail, and we were both so affected that I had to pull over the car and we both cried tears of joy. Seriously. That was some darn good news. Doctor Terri. That sounds pretty good.

I got: a terrific day with Terri, a new dress (black silk with white polka dots), two pairs of new shoes, and a new opportunity to do some meaningful art, maybe.

We both had: a great, fun lunch at The Stinking Rose. Mmmm, garlic. It was fun to be in North Beach on a gorgeous San Francisco day. Very joyous and romantic. I can't wait for more days like today. You need a good day like this every once in awhile.

I'm happy. I did get a letter from the Nevada parole board that Jim is up for parole, which makes me angry, but I'm going to talk to someone on the parole board and do my part to make sure he stays in jail as long as possible. But even that can't take away this terrific day that we had.

It was just nice to feel normal. Terrific, even. All day long. Sure, there were imperfections: Terri had her crutch and walking boot, and traffic was horrific, and we almost lost her bag of face stuff, but it was nothing we couldn't deal with, and the sun was shining on us, literally and figuratively. I haven't had a day like this in a long time, and it was good. I'm cautiously beginning to hope that things will continue to get better.

Now, if only Terri's car will stay where we park it...

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

The New Beginning

Time to start anew. Bring in sunlight and peace. And all the parts of me.

Time to remember: I love poetry. Especially ee cummings.

Here's why:

[somewhere i have never travelled]

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands