please!

i am coming back soon, i promise. things here are, in a phrase i hate, "a little hectic." school started on monday. katie is here until tomorrow. i have homework to do. it's been raining a lot. i still don't really have any money until i get paid (maybe, that is) on friday. i say maybe because that's really a crapshoot, let's be honest. i'm trying to figure out what it's like to work this much during real school, and the answer is: hard. this has all resulted in a lot of panicking on the inside and jaw-clenching on the outside.

tomorrow i only have one class, and it's at night. work during the day. a hopeless trip to the bank. i am out of milk. and lotion. and whiskey, for crying out loud. catherine loya is out of whiskey, and there is some serious shit going down here.

not really. this is just one of many examples of being whiny and insistent. see? see how bad it is? things will improve, however. just you wait.

but i do like wasabi

here's a problem i'm having: no money.

well, let's qualify it. i have money in the bank for the following things: rent. bills.

that's it.

see, normally i would have some cash from working for professors like i've never worked before, but the payroll department at the university of akron is just like anything else there. it exists to make your life more difficult than it has to be. therefore, i won't get paid until next week. and therefore, i have no cash in my wallet and three dollars and some cents in my checking account.

if i could get those three dollars out in good conscience, i would.

last night i was persuaded to go to two bars. two in one night! i haven't done that in a long long time. you would think it impossible to have anything to drink, since i have no cash, right? oh no. no no. don't be so silly. four beers, one two three and, just like that. shout-outs go to alex, jamie and justin. holla. i also got to eat some terrible food (by which i mean delicious and bad for me), courtesy of james' check card. i signed the receipt "jamie hale," as instructed by ms hale herself, and the cashier said: "your card says your last name is russell?" i of course answered without missing a beat: "i know. i just got married!" squealing ensued.

speaking of weddings, my friend brent proposed to his longtime girlfriend maki (mako? i can never remember) this past wednesday, and they got married yesterday morning. two days hadn't even elapsed! but i realized that it was just like brent, really. and then i had to spend a couple minutes reassuring him that he did not, in fact, have "ugly hands," which he was lamenting over: "the ring looks so bad on me!" he said. i told him that i usually notice people's hands right away, and i have never thought his hands are ugly. then he told me i was the best and started talking about sushi. i do not notice people's sushi right away.

broody bear

today i am a brooding little bear. i stop just short of swiping with my paws.

i also love the word brooding very much, as when you're doing it, there's no better description.

i'm not sure why the brooding. i have some fun things to do tonight. a veritable spread, if you will. the engine of my life is slowly creaking and turning back up towards the speed at which it usually runs, albeit only sometimes smoothly. and i am glad about that, at least. there is something very exciting and altogether terrifying about beginnings. this year is my last here at school, and towards this degree, and maybe most probably my last to have this sort of academic life. that's mostly nice to think about, but also very sad. you know how loss goes, always around like second-hand smoke.

it's like an icebox in here. welcome first-year law students!

tonight is the mentor/mentee dinner. some luckly soul gets to have reheated pasta and iceburg lettuce drenched in italian dressing with me tonight while they ask me questions like "what's so-and-so class? how much work do i need to do for it? is it hard? is SBA fun? should i join?" and i will say things along the lines of yes and no and maybe and you'll just have to see for yourself, won't you? but of course i won't say that very last part, because i will be all smiles and jokes and buddy-buddying until i can finally get the hell out of there. it takes a little time to get back into it all, but eventually i can do it without feeling nauseous.

swing it like you mean it

there is a comment by bob of irobert fame--on his own post, even--that really got me thinking about the very complex and delicate idea of simplicity. on the one hand, there is the very simple concept: terrorism and terrorists should be stopped, and we as a free people (i say "we" in the grand, sweeping sense, not the American Freedom Fries sense) really are all on the same side, that is, against terror. and really, i mean terror as in intense, overpowering fear, rather than anything else.

but then of course, on the other hand we have the concept that we (grand, sweeping) can spend a lot of time arguing and agreeing and disagreeing--vehemently, even--about the manner and means of going about making our side successful.

you know, this started out about simplicity, but i just thought of something else i'd like to say: i feel like it has only been very recently it's become so difficult to say things that run along the lines of "i think the war in iraq has been a horrible blunder" without feeling like it needs to be followed up with "but i don't think the united states deserves what it gets." or perhaps "i strongly disagree (i'm using poetic license here) with the ideology of the republican party as a whole" without protesting, "but i don't hate conservatives" immediately afterward. it makes me nervous, actually, this polarization, where making a simple (ah! back on track!) statement has become so complicated, so filled with meaning that really is beyond the frame and scope of the little words in that original statement. "i am a liberal" now means "i hate america" or "i disagree with the war" now has tints and hues of "i think we had it coming." things become unreasonable and skyrocket and really, suddenly unpatriotic, quite quickly. i suppose it makes me uncomfortable--inspires terror, even--to think that simple statements of opinion can be and are labelled as the fabric of treason without any thought as to the actual words used.

though i am encouraged by the passion and feverish belief in "issues," as it were, i sometimes suspect that this intensity is really unthinking us vs. them mentality, which may just be worse and more dangerous than complete apathy.

what i mean to say is, i wish there was more allowing for the possibility that us and them are simultaneously right and wrong, to varying degrees.

or maybe i just wish sandra day o'connor would call and tell me it was just a practical joke.

hardly anyone updates on sunday. monday? sunday.

let me tell you something about barbeque chicken pizza: that is some good shit, right there. hells. yes.

i wanted to say the m-f word right there, afterwards, but i've definitely said that one too many times today. i blame the fierce athleticism i had to command forth from myself as i sweat somewhere around the equivalent of a bathtub of moisture as i played a game of kickball today (and that was a shitbrick disaster of a sentence, wasn't it? but we'll keep it, just to keep me honest). i kicked, and i scored, and all was well. except now i am tired and just might eat four pieces of barbeque (is that snobby? how does that one even go for fuck's sake? barbecue? bbq? barbie-q? please. help me) chicken pizza. this thing has smoked gouda cheese on it, people. it's very gouda. ha! ha! i hate myself.

let me tell you something else, too, if that's okay. listen. any sort of community is a beautiful and gorgeous thing, and yes and yes. i always feel so silly to use the word because it makes me feel desperate or the like, but really. gorgeous is the word i used, and that is the word that best describes it. rally some people around anything, my friends, and make yourself little communities, and remember how much you love each one of the members, please, just for me, just this once when i don't use the word community and put it into italics or throw up quotes around it like some sort of safety net.

and i would also say, there will be a child soon in this community i'm talking about, my actors and my newfangleds and my headaches! her name will be ritter balou hale. balou is a native american (right? or is it indians now? you know what i mean) word for "outspoken," and yes my friends, this child will be quite outspoken. unbelieveably so, even. her own person, if lacking in anything else. and that! that is something, yes it is. i would rather have that than many other things for my daughter or son, though it is difficult, i am sure. you would probably gasp at how many! how many, how many.

that reminds me: the thing i've always loved over the years is the knowledge that if i would be given the grace to have a child (or even more than one! can you imagine? mercy on them!) is that they have been with me alllllllll this time now. can you imagine? all this time. so much has happened! maybe they know it all already, yes? i wish and hope that to be true, but mainly the good parts. there have been so many good parts, my friends, which is probably why you never hear too much about them.

all the same.

i'm buying a good eraser

the secret part about counseling (one of the many, really) that they don't tell you until you're already knee-deep in your own troubles and holding the hand of the counselor, all "help me, obi-wan! help me!" is that they are trying to teach you how to create boundaries around yourself that are helpful and comfortable for you, as well as breaking down barriers (no, this is really how they talk, i'm serious) you've set up for yourself out of well-deserved and needed defense. so then! you go ahead and try and do that, wading all the time, and you think you've successfully accomplished the creating and the breaking down and so forth, and as you raise your arms triumphantly! in the air, you realize that......wait a moment.......no one is really there to celebrate your victory over yourself. as a matter of fact, you are now too scared to invite anyone into the theatre to see this in the first place, nevermind share this joy with them. and so, you lower your arms and try and retrace your steps and redraw the boundaries and.....

but! here's the problem, surely! you know you've made a lot of good decisions, haven't you? sure you have. you feel less pulled-apart, that's for sure. and a lot less frantic and terrible about your lines, really, and all the little thinking and good understanding you've come across with yourself, so all of that couldn't have been a waste, right? right! it's just, you've overdone it. you were an honors kid in school, godammit, and you're not going to back down from that now! so maybe it's not all disaster. there were a lot of difficult things you had to face and space you had to stake and claim for yourself, and none of that was in error! you just need a balance, riiiiiiight. a balance. you forget about that, especially when new ideas come and your mind is finally made up.

so then Counseling Secret #53: Boundaries and Barriers is revealed, and you wade back into the muck and muddle of yourself to figure out how to compromise. and that's where we leave you (you? ha! me me me!) for now, knowing full well i will come out again with muddy pants.

always with the muddy pants.

august and everything after

and now we continue our regularly scheduled program, Dicking Around on the Internet.

what i really should be doing right now is working, by which i mean researching some laws in florida for professors donkey kong and marge. it's been about eight days now, and i only have a page. i need seven of those, not one. for some reason, i just can't get on with it already. i don't know what's happening.

furthermore! i'm tired. doing nothing really wears you out. i think it's the self-hatred over being useless. that's it.

in other news, tomorrow i get to find out who my little first year law student mentee is. lucky them. last year my mentee totally hated me, for reasons i cannot even begin to guess, i'm sure. "hi, i'm cat," i said. her name was elizabeth, she said. "not liz, not beth, not anything. elizabeth." okay, i said. okay. you may be thinking at this point that i must've shortened her name in some way unwittingly, but i must assure you i did no such thing. i even tried to bring in a personal understanding, you know, by sharing my feelings on the name cathy and whatnot, but it was no use. elizabeth was unpleasant, and she was determined to stay that way. who am i to argue?

hopefully this year things will be better. maybe they'll give me a manatee instead. that would rock.

my friend casey is now the vice-president of the student bar association. of course. she signs her emails like that. not her personal emails to me (not yet), though. hopefully through this friendship i will be able to get inside connections, like half-price wings on tuesdays or something. fingers crossed.

i have some books here now. they are very heavy and the pages are all shiny and they haven't been dropped in the mud or used as an umbrella or thrown down the stairs of the law library yet. happy times ahead! i have homework to do too, friends. hommmmmmework. i always like to tell myself that i don't want to do all that reading too early because i might forget all the information. ha. right.

something really, really nice though is that youareokok (you ARE) will be here next week for about ten minutes, and that will be a great way to end the summer. see? august has some redemptive qualities, other than building up one's alcohol tolerance to immense and epic proportions. sort of.

i'm serious about the pony.

welcome back. my internship certificate has arrived in the mail. you'd think that something that allowed you limited power to practice law would be attainable through another process remarkably dissimiliar to clipping three UPC symbols from the boxtops of the cookie crisp you eat every morning, but no. it's pretty much the same. i hope when i go to the law school to pick it up there's a decoder ring instead, or a matchbox car, or a my little pony. any of those, really. i'd definitely have more fun with any of those things.

i have a movie here called the shipping news, and this would mark the.....oh.....fourth? fifth? time i've rented it and/or checked it out of a library system. don't be fooled into thinking i've actually watched it that many times, please. i've actually only seen it a total of none. a big fat zero. why? why can't i just put the damn thing in my computer and sit there? i don't even know if i like it! i just keep getting it out so it can sit on the coffeetable. i like to reunite those two every so often.

i'll watch it someday, but not today! today i'm going to see march of the penguins. you bet. details to follow.

i wonder if i get a my little pony, do i have to take it into court with me? and if so, can i just put it in my pocket, or do i have to put it on the counsel table? or talk with it? i'm not sure how these things work, really. i just hope it comes with the little brush.

something about the holidays and whatever else

you know what's nice about this life? all the people and the families and the, well, of course i have to use this word, communities i get to be a part of. that's what's nice about this life. even when i feel very separated from them, or very distant, whether in words or in physical space. it is what it is--the fact that i feel separated from something just naturally precedes the fact that i feel that way to begin with, that i am a part of it, yes? some bit of me feels as if i'm only imagining such things but then, well, i always was a pessimist. a doubter, maybe that's better.

tomorrow i plan and plan and plan, for God's sake, to be across the street and doing some work for professor triple threat, so i can finish her work and then continue my work with flordia, the state after and below georgia.

did you know i have just thought of moving first and first and foremost, and then and only then having the job? that's true, it is. to various places, i admit, but those places all being good. we are trained and brought up with these versions of ourselves that may never be but still noble to attain to. how's that, then?

i have had the good and great fortune to be a part of many families, and even in just a little bit under a quarter of a century! families of all kinds, even--those without both parents or brothers or sisters or whatever you wish, those that i was able to meet through works and schools and friends, and on and on on on. i have spent every holiday with these families, and soon i will reprise that role once again, and it is a good and great and nice thing, i will tell you that much, right now when i can see clearly for the first time in weeks(!)--that is a wonderful thing. i thank God i have these chances to be such a part of the things people love the most, rather than sitting on the point that i wish i had my own exclusive family with no.....well. let's leave that direct object to your own initiative. i am sure you would do better than i, really.

now! it is time to steal cars!

the word i'm putting in is cruciverbalist

well, good news. the curse has sort of been lifted, except for the fact i've been tired all freaking day. and someone does not have a case of the mondays, let me tell you, and not just because today is friday. no sirs and ma'ams.

i just gave one of the dogs a saltine. if that's wrong, i don't want to be right.

the honor of my presence at thanksgiving has been requested by some seattle folk. can you imagine that? i almost sort of can't, still. thanksgivings are generally a crapshoot around here, and now here's the opportunity to make it a sure win! so that's nice, even if planes are still scary.

speaking of seattle folk, happy great birthday to the late renea susan(ne) nielsen. wait, that came out wrong. i mean, happy late birthday to the great renea susan(ne) neilsen. there we go, that's much better. i hope the whole week has been excellent. i will drink a glass of bourbon in your honor.

also, i'm thinking about going into the lumberjacking business. so far this entails wearing overalls and flannel shirts without looking frumpy, living in a log cabin in maine, and indoor plumbing. there has been no mention of actually cutting down any trees, which i think is good. i'm not afraid of heights, but that doesn't necessarily mean i want to shimmy up a tree, either. i think it will be a success.

now it's time to look at more plane tickets.

i would go on, but i can't sit up for more than ten minutes at a time.

let me tell you a story called "food poisoning." it goes something like this:

once upon a time, there was a place called "the platinum dragon." now, this place looked innocent enough. it had some neon lights. it was next to a bar called "the metro." there's always black people going in and coming out. lots of asian-speak happening, and so forth.

little do the humble and unsuspecting people of highland square--no! all of akron!--know the absolute evil which dwells inside! the substance of madness! that which beckons from the black pit!

one would-be victim is the heroine of our story. let's call her "cat."

one day, cat decided if there was any day to have chinese food, today was the day! the delicious sauce! the onions! those things that sort of taste like turnips(?) but aren't! yes, today was the day indeed. having visited the establishment once before with no problems, cat called up the platinum dragon and placed her order.

bum bum buuuummmmmmm! you should use this opportunity to get a soda, or something. a "pop," if you prefer.

traipsing merrily along, down the block, cat picked up her food from that den of terror happily! grateful, even! for now it was time to have some dinner and a nice quiet evening. and so, arriving back--safely, she thought--to her home, she ate her dinner and slept, contented.

the next morning, however, things were not so good. cat had a stomach ache, and one that got progressively worse during the day. but, unconcerned and unaware of the veritable typhoon coursing through her digestive system, cat went along her day until suddenly! nearly at the stroke of midnight! it was time. satan had spawned! a bathroom was needed, and needed quickly, because the spawn of satan does not like to be kept waiting! oh no, it most certainly does not!

now, you will forgive, i'm sure, the intentional dramatic language in an attempt to shield your senses and rest easy this night. today has been a hard and rough one. one filled with being unable to keep anything down--or maybe just "in." yes, that's right. unable to keep anything in. a day filled with questions like "soup? will soup work? no? how about the broth? not that either? okay." and "saltines? ha, of course not." and "if i stand up, will i throw up?" these, my friends, are all as a result of the curse of the platinum dragon.

"the platinum dragon." right. more like the diarrhea dinghy. or the vomit lizard. or something.

i am in hudson.

i am staying in what suddenly feels like a gigantic house. it's filled with all the same things and all the rooms smell the same (except for the ones with the new carpet), and then all the wallpaper and everything is the same too, even in the kitchen with the weird maze wallpaper. sort of like a maze. maybe more like little roads that stop and start. that's better.

there are two dogs here. one of them is allowed to roam freely about, and is named rocky. the other one has a small little face that is very cute, with little eyes to match. he is very clumsy. that would be jake. today when i got home, rocky got very exasperated with jake for stealing his squeaky barbell. i tried to explain to rocky, very carefully, that jake was just a pup and wasn't quite attune to the same social graces as rocky was, but this did little to soothe his temper or end his pouting. so i made it up to him by putting jake back in his little crate with all the blankets, and took rocky upstairs for a nice afternoon nap. all was forgiven then.

there is also a very nice network router here, one that i bought and selected with my own hands. i worked--nay! i toiled!--to make sure it functioned properly in this house, creating a nice network with which to employ during the various times i am here. it was all set up in a perfect working order the last time i was in this particular room. lots of careful wires and tinkering and energy, you know, had to go into this simple little router. today, ready and able to begin work post-making-it-up-to-rocky nap by continuing to research my work for the noble professor donkey kong and marge, i opened up my trusty lapbox and attempted to begin work. nothing! nothing at all! making my way into the computer room, happy that i myself had set up the wireless network and therefore! would know what to do, i discovered to my horror when i got here, that, much to my chagrin, the network router was sitting very innocently, all by itself and lonely, unplugged and detangled and neat and tidy. the poor network router! my heart, ladies and gentlemen, sank like so many steamliners to the bottom of the cold, dark atlantic.

i write to you from my parents' computer, which sounds like a jetplane powering down when you shut it off. i'm thinking quite seriously about returning the favor, you know, the favor of unplugging the fucking--oops!--network router, by unplugging all of the rest of the computer equipment and setting it, piece by piece, all on the floor. i envision only leaving the network router plugged in and on top of this desk.

but maybe i'll just drink all the alcohol in the house instead.

i have been where you are and i am unafraid of you

ladies and gentlemen.

i am all sound and fury, you know that already, and if you didn't then you should open your eyes and listen for once in your life instead of already filling in the words where you see fit. how's that for a start? i knew you'd like it. today and now is sound and fury, all of it, and i have not even the slightest bit of right to talk about this but here we go, friends, you listen now and you listen well.

there is something about finally hitting upon the right word, isn't there? something so pure and good and like a sound you couldn't hear even if you wanted to so badly you imagined it. the right word here, in this instance, is vulgar. how's that? vulgar, of all things. that's what the exact right word is. that is what describes writing and saying and salt-and-peppering your own life with the so-hard-won and fought-for identity of others. that is what describes taking what was formerly--and is now, even!--violent insult and making it your own, making it okay to use because, well, of course you've experienced it so then naturally you have all the rights to use such words and without fear! correct? i tell you that is incorrect and what else, is that it is vulgar to do so. that is the word i have been looking for, friend. vulgar.

what i mean here is, identity is a hard-won and long-fought for thing, whether it is a question of race, sexuality, family struggle, addiction, disease, or whatever else. and to use the words that mark that identity so carelessly can provoke sound and fury, not that it was so difficult to do in the first place.

i can't decide if being careless with the words that create identity or being careless with words at all makes me angriest, though i suppose we will find out in time, yes?

it's always best to end abruptly

let's face it. someone should be studying, and it's not you.

there is this business of updating to attend to. but what am i going to say? who knows! i hate this time of year, did you know? i hate it more than i hate spring semester's exams, more than the bitter and grey cold of february, more than the burning hot sun of july, more than any of that. i hate august, when school and demands and stress have almost started but not quite, and i can still get away with doing nothing a little bit longer.

it makes it considerably hard to do anything productive at all, and that includes filling in words for this space. but i soldier on! because you're worth it. you are! oh, you stop. no you! awwww.

anyway, there's this assshit exam coming up (i dated this guy in high school who loved the word 'assshit' more than any other word because it's the only word in the english language with the three s's right in a row. s's? esses? remember the phoenetic spelling of letters in scrabble? because i certainly do, trust me) that i have to "sit" for called.....it doesn't matter. it has a codename though, the "MPRE," and for some reason i don't think i'm ready for its jelly. it's all "hey catherine, can you handle this?" and i'm like "sure!" and it's all "i don't think you can handle this!" and then busts out some crazy-ass question about attorney's fees and i'm fucked.

i was about to make a reference to a video game here, but then i decided that if i was going to update instead of study, i should really stay away from those.

has anyone seen being julia? for some reason, jess, i'm looking at you here. i think it's the on golden pond thing.

five open letters to the people i work around while sitting outside the coffeeshop across the street

dear dude-who's-name-is-probably-(sean) (shawn) (shaun) (shhhaaahhhhnnnn).

hi. i understand that you are "aiming" for columbia--which your unsuspecting companion with the braids, age twenty, current attendee of mount vernon university and art major (painting, mostly) thought was "in south carolina," which, good job on our state capitals kid, but not quite the right answer, next family please--in order to go be a patent attorney, and therefore it obviously behooves you to strike up conversations in what could just be the loudest voice possible with strangers sitting outside of angel falls in the ninety-four degree heat, but i would like to share with you some words of wisdom: stop telling people they don't have any life experience just because they're younger than you are. miss "i was born a slacker" and i certainly, though we are not twenty-nine like yourself, haven't been living under rocks. though i don't want to speak for slacker-braids, far be it from me to do so. i'm sure, if she has a rock, it's lovely. the point is: shut up. thanks.

also, stop telling people you are a graduate of the "school of life," because, what?
catherine "pain hate pain" loya, JD candidate.

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dear girl with inappropriate white shirt and too-big sunglasses and oh my God, is that your thong sticking out of your pants?

greetings from earth. listen. i can see you are a "liberated" woman, a "free spirit" who likes to talk to butterflies, or some shit, and because of this status you of course are going to be "buddying" around with the guys whilst bumming cigarettes (basics? are you kidding me?) and "ribbing" them about "last night," but is it necessary to sit directly behind me during this boring production? yes? okay. that's fine, i can handle that. what i absolutely cannot handle, on the other hand, is when you begin the natural progression from "how's your girlfriend, zander?"--or whatever the hell that dude likes to be called--to "have you guys been to that porn shop down the block?" because of course they have, and of course they saw the "bag lady porn," which, remind me to thank you for educating me on the subject, and how it's not actual "like, homeless ladies," it's "like, skanky girls with bags over their ugly faces," so in conclusion: shut up. also? shut the fuck up, because that's not being a free-spirit, that's being gross and cruel and dehumanizing. so nice work, starshine. why don't you go play in traffic?

take me to your leader,
catherine "it's not the porn, it's you" loya, citizen of earth.

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dear members of the girl-rock group that live around here and are always staring at me and talking to me and asking me what i'm doing later.

while i am on your side, i am not "on your side," if you know what i'm saying. i do like your tattoos.

cordially,
catherine "boys, boys, all kinds of boys" loya, still not interested.

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dear cross-dressing gentleman with torn fishnets and pair of heels i think a friend of mine has.

i'm sorry i never have any cigarettes you like. you may want to try girl with inappropriate white shirt and too-big sunglasses and oh my God, is that your thong sticking out of your pants? see, the thing is, you don't annoy me half as much as the other people around here. you want to know why? because i like your makeup. that's right, i like the green eyeshadow. it just goes well with the black--or is it purple today?--feathery hair. and expertly applied. i just don't think i could apply my own makeup so well. also, you talk about interesting things like how hard it is to find someone who doesn't a) beat the shit out of you or b) want to have sex with you. i know you didn't say "have sex," but i have some readers who object to harsh language, and not that i would normally mind, but i want them to like you. i'm sorry about that trouble with your boyfriend. please, vanessa, try and find someone nice.

and thank you for not telling me the mechanics of your sex life,
catherine "which is more than i can say for the people who actually know my name" loya, very sincerely.

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dear young mother who left her practically infant child in a stroller, outside, in the burning heat, under the barely-conscious and not-watchful-at-all care of some dudes drinking off their hangover and smoking pall malls, while she went in to get a bubble tea.

you do realize that the only reason i'm not inside breaking your wrists is because i'm saving my strength to subdue and maim the possible baby-snatchers?

get a fucking baby-sitter,
catherine "you dumb bitch" loya, unafraid of words.

time has gotten by on alibis and wine

there's something about starting this space and having no idea what i'm about to say that's intriguing and tiring, all at the same time. how about this: i watch a lot of CSI. i do. i'm about halfway through the third season, and then that'll be all for now. can you imagine that? that'll be all for now. the summer is definitely coming to its close and i've had more than enough or ever-thought-would-happen epiphanies to last for a bit now, and i mark all that by how many CSI episodes i have left.

and did i mention how you can truly see someone by the words they write, sometimes?

here is something, and something i can't say yet--figure that one out, i'll give you a dollar or make you dinner, your pick--the rediscovery of family is possible. did you know? i didn't. for so many years i've been convinced that once you lose those you are comfortable with and love very much, then that, as they say, is that. and there is nothing else to be had along those lines. but as usual, that's not the truth, is it? and it breaks my heart to think that community, as a word and as an idea, is a joke now, and something we all say sardonically to one another or as some sort of magic word, is real but not believed in. or scorned. or. remember that paradox theory, and that concept, and how it is proven over and over again like the song? i mean to say: we are all very alone, i suppose, and have our unique and awesome and awe-inspiring and mysterious relationship with God, who knows us all individually, and that can be the scariest and best thing in the universe, something we couldn't even dream of. but along with that, somehow, we are also able to form some sort of.....well. you know the word that goes here, though the definition is laughed at and unknown.

all that just means, i am leaving here soon. and where i know and i don't know, one resting on faith and the other too afraid to decide. but a decision would be better, now wouldn't it? indeed.

there is a lot to do, yet.