So here's the thing: in crafting this
post, I had millions of details to share. Daily tidbits that form
paragraphs in my head, that evoke words and descriptions and flow
from my fingers like smooth water. But, I couldn't piece it all
together with life. Real life. My life. All the things that happen,
that I do...How do I get it to fit into a neat little expository
post.
So I come to you with bits and pieces. Maybe not the best story, maybe not the most fluid. It's sewn together from thoughts and snippets I've scribbled over the past few weeks on my notes app - typed while tucked away between commuters on the train, while standing at the market waiting to buy some silly mix of groceries: pickles and summer squash, and from the seat of a cafe swatting flies and sipping green juice between life's things. I wasn't able to get it together until now because, well, I've been too busy living. And, I guess, that's not such a bad thing.
Right now, we're smack dab in the sluggish days of summer. More than that, we're holed up in the middle of a heat wave that would catch Dante off guard. Where everyone is in a perpetual state of drip-dry. Dewy bodies are perched atop brightly colored toes. Damp skin. Hair piled high. Hands blotting brows. Thick air. Country music in my ears - the only sound that seems to fit the long, meandering days. And the night hours are a welcome break where the heat is more like a cozy blanket than a smothering pillow.
Of course, though energy is low, life doesn't slow for this onslaught of stifling heat. I feel like you can tell how bananas a person's life is by the number of tabs open on her desktop. Right now...I have 22. 22 TABS!
Hands down. That sh*t is bananas.
So I come to you with bits and pieces. Maybe not the best story, maybe not the most fluid. It's sewn together from thoughts and snippets I've scribbled over the past few weeks on my notes app - typed while tucked away between commuters on the train, while standing at the market waiting to buy some silly mix of groceries: pickles and summer squash, and from the seat of a cafe swatting flies and sipping green juice between life's things. I wasn't able to get it together until now because, well, I've been too busy living. And, I guess, that's not such a bad thing.
Right now, we're smack dab in the sluggish days of summer. More than that, we're holed up in the middle of a heat wave that would catch Dante off guard. Where everyone is in a perpetual state of drip-dry. Dewy bodies are perched atop brightly colored toes. Damp skin. Hair piled high. Hands blotting brows. Thick air. Country music in my ears - the only sound that seems to fit the long, meandering days. And the night hours are a welcome break where the heat is more like a cozy blanket than a smothering pillow.
Of course, though energy is low, life doesn't slow for this onslaught of stifling heat. I feel like you can tell how bananas a person's life is by the number of tabs open on her desktop. Right now...I have 22. 22 TABS!
Hands down. That sh*t is bananas.
Sometimes I wonder what life is like
with a real job. A less random existence. An office. Spreadsheets.
Structure. Clock in. clock out. It's usually at times like these when
I spend my days hopping from one mindset to the next, living in a
constant state of forced ADD. But let's be honest, that's just not
“me.”
After four days away, I was happy to get back to the grind upon arrival in BK. But something was weird. I had that feeling like just before a storm when everything is a bit off. When the air is eerie and smells funny. There's a salty bite in the wind. Like at any moment the storm will arrive and Toto will go flying past the bedroom window... Something was brewing...
It wasn't long after the shoot that that immanent, brewing storm I had felt in my bones arrived. Toto appeared in the form of a phone call from my Father. I got word that my Grandmother had taken a fall and was in the ER. Within the hour, my cousin and I were on our way in a borrowed car to venture to the depths of a land time forgot. A place known to the world as: New Jersey. Following an elaborate string of family group texts discussing my Oma's condition, my dad decided to fly up for the week.
I shuttled back and forth, New Jersey Transit style, between states. My main job was to keep everyone light, and find the funny in all of the mess. Like, when my Dad had endured a 12+ hour travel marathon from Atlanta, spent the day at the hospital and after a long, thorough search we sat down at a little Italian spot. My Dad was pretty wound up and had just been telling me in the car how he wanted a Godforsaken glass of wine when the server slowly dropped the bomb that they were BYOB. I honestly thought my Dad may cry. He looked like someone had just bare-hand-murdered his new puppy. I, on the other hand... instantly started laughing. Just uncontrollable belly laughter. People were staring... It was just too perfect. Life just has a funny way of fucking you. Somehow, a simple glass of red turns into a statement.

I think that's all for now. Piecemeal? Maybe. Honest? Yup. Now to get back to living...and sweating.
I wish you dreams of frozen kale smoothies and cucumber water. ...or ice cream and cold as shit diet coke. Whatever. Just stay cool, my friends. It's an obstacle course in a convection oven of big city proportions out there.
Ha! So excited to have found your blog. I'm a post-grad "theatre" type moving from TX to the big apple in a couple of weeks, so these are just the kind of blogs I like to read.
ReplyDeleteCongrats on the flea & tick gig...from where I sit, that is a major milestone! ;)