Monday, June 25, 2012

Paradise Met

I have to remind myself sometimes, alright, often, that my tendency to understate things actually belittles my experience. It is very easy to respond to a question about my weekend with a shrug and, “It was okay.” It wasn’t just okay. It was actually pretty good. Good things happened. I enjoyed myself. To say otherwise isn’t fair to my weekend or me. It is a more subtle negative, but a negative nonetheless.

In spite of spending maybe 15 minutes on stage and 5 hours in/around the theatre for rehearsal Saturday morning, I didn’t mind too much. The most eventful thing I did in the time between the beginning and the end was to fetch a bag of ice for a girl who came down hard on her ankle. I finished reading The Sun Also Rises for the second time and briefly spoke with a woman in the play who wants to mentor a single young professionals group.

Our conversation was interesting, particularly due to its resonance with my current frame of mind. It was the second time that day that I heard my concerns echoed, albeit from two vastly different sources. A friend of mine who owns an organic food café told me about the astrological significance of the present. Apparently it is the best opportunity we have for growth, according to the stars. It is a time to break out of our cycles and move forward. Considering my recent feelings of being stuck on a carousel, it was an interesting coincidence.

The other conversation was significantly less spiritually oriented, which meant it was easier for me to discuss and listen. In the end however, it was the same theme. Our generation doesn’t want to work mindlessly without purpose. We don’t want to further the corporate machine unless we’re doing some kind of “good work” while we’re doing it. Kate, the woman I was talking, recognized that the business mindset in our town is driving away young professionals and she wants that to change. I hope she does start some kind of group, I would be very interested in attending.

At the end of the short rehearsal break we took for lunch, I walked up to a local café for a mocha. My path took somehow meandered through the Farmer’s Market, where a young woman selling flowers had caught my eye last weekend. We’ll call her Aeris for a brief moment before I reveal her name. Sure enough she was there again and though I didn’t linger, I was pleased to see her again. She is about my height, (5’9”) give or take an inch, with light blonde hair and a genuine, constant smile. I wandered by, got my coffee and wandered back through with a smile of my own that I shared with no one and everyone in particular.

After rehearsal I did a little personal writing, breaking the paradigm of my computer desk and moving the monitor and keyboard to the floor. It is a curious thing, but such a tiny way of arranging my world to suit me instead of vice versa is very satisfying. My guitar received a little attention as well. I played through Rufus Wainwright’s version of “Hallelujah” and Jimmy Buffet’s “Love in the Library.” I don’t often play covers, so it was nice to practice a couple.

At 6 o’ clock I met up with my friend Liz and we walked the couple blocks from her house to a new sushi restaurant in town, Big Tuna. Three of our co-workers were sitting outside when we arrived, so we joined them. They only served rolls, no nigiri or sashimi, but combined my two favorite kinds of sushi into one roll, so I wasn’t too disappointed. Cucumber and tuna? Thanks!

In spite of Liz’ several attempts to back out, after dinner I dragged her another couple blocks to the monthly ballroom dance. I don’t know many people as expressive as Liz is, so it quickly became clear that she was having a lot of fun. There were also several people from the play there, all much younger, but it was good to see them outside of the theatre.

I hadn’t been in the room for more than a moment when I saw my Aeris. She had changed into a simple, elegant black dress, and a pair of heels, but only stood out even more than she did in jeans with her hands full of flowers at the Farmer’s Market. I pointed her out to Liz. After I’d danced with Liz a few times and one of my students, I asked her to dance. Not only is she lovely and bright enough to notice in any crowd, she’s a very graceful dancer as well. Her name is Eden.

Liz left after an hour or so, as she wasn’t feeling great. She made sure to give me some pointed advice on how to win the girl before leaving. Since her advice was simply what I wanted to do and not something I had planned out, I took it. I made certain not to ignore the other people I knew or take too many of Eden’s dances, but I claimed a lot of them. When the night was over, I asked for her number, in the interest of dancing with her again. She gave it to me and we exchanged goodbyes.

Afterward, I went back over to chez Liz, where we drank sauvignon blanc and watched BioDome. I haven’t seen that movie in ages, but it still makes me laugh. I don’t know what makes good stupid humor and bad stupid humor, but there’s definitely a line out there somewhere. When it ended, I went home and slept until it was time to greet the new day.

Sunday was less eventful, but pleasant. I woke up early, since I only seem to be able to really sleep in when I don’t want to get up for work. I had breakfast with my dad and spent the rest of the day playing Civ V: Gods and Kings with a brief interlude of D&D that I wasn’t really feeling up to. I talked to my dad about moving back into the cabin, which is something I have been thinking about recently. I have to give my landlord thirty days notice, so I have to decide by the end of the week whether or not I am going to do so. Dad can use the help around the property and I think he gets lonely with Mom off in Arizona for the school year. I could use the money I will save when I don’t have to pay rent and will be able to get a pup of my own. I think it’s time. It’s been over a year since I last moved. Not sure how to deal with that. -playful grin-

It was a good weekend. Don’t believe me if I try to tell you otherwise.


Her name,
a bell ringing
‘gainst the song of the world
a cello, bow on its strings
a trumpet, calling out,
resounding,
echoing on my tongue
the sound of a note
I had almost forgotten
I have been waiting to hear.

And a thousand words, goodnight.

-m0rg4n

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