you my everything retrotrip
Love you Em <3

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@dearlyydeparted
you my everything retrotrip
Love you Em <3
The time is 1:42am.
I made it back home late last night and spent a foggy Saturday unpacking and strolling around campus looking for my classrooms. It feels so silly to even think tomorrow (today) is the last day of summer before the fall semester begins. It's even sillier to be in this big empty house all alone. My housemate returns tomorrow (today, sigh) but it's not her who feels missing. I never realized how much space that man took up until I had my bed all to myself for the first time in six months. As it turns out: this thing is gargantuan! I brushed my teeth in the doorway of my bathroom, locking eyes with my own reflection instead of having the usual foamy-mouthed conversation with his. And last night, I couldn't sleep until I gave in, switched the light on, and wrote out these sappy words which echoed in my brain: "The way I nuzzle my face into my pillows, searching for the comfort of your scent, is much like the way an elk in winter sniffs the ground for grass hiding beneath snow." I dreamed it was January and he was carrying me on his back down a slushy Montreal sidewalk.
Smith Rock, Central Oregon
When the Snow Fell
Jade watched as a half-carat diamond flashed on Aprilās ring finger. April, recently-engaged, popped several mushroom caps between her naturally straight teeth. Her nose and eyes scrunched up with disgust at the psychedelicsā bitter flavor as she chewed as little as possible before swallowing.
The young women had met in ceramics class just a month before and were now snowed in by a freak blizzard in Aprilās cozy apartment. Aprilās fiancĆ©e, Evan, was spending the weekend visiting his brother down south and she appreciated her new friendās company. Both women had recently moved to the area and had had difficulty making friends. Jade had been given the shrooms by her cousin and was waiting for the ideal occasion to share them. Once April and Jade realized that automotive travel was null and the internet was down, the two had agreed that it would be an opportune evening to nibble some hallucinogens and go out exploring in the fresh snow.
While Jade munched slowly and didnāt mind the musty, earthy taste of the shimmery gold-capped mushrooms, April chased them hastily with orange juice and bites of kiwi fruit. Jade was overjoyed to have met April yet she felt shy around her, for fear of losing her only friend. It seemed her loneliness was gradually growing satiated. They smiled at one another. Within the hour, they would begin to feel the effects; colors and thoughts would become tangible beyond description.
April sat and rolled a J. The young women passed it back and forth, inhaling its dry vapors and exhaling cobalt-tinted clouds, as they pulled on layers and layers of warm clothing. Finally, they stood ready by the door. In the time since ingesting, the sky had darkened to the pale grey-orange of a cloudy stratosphere polluted with artificial light. Jade wore a tan down jacket and white snow pants. She pulled a blue wool hat over her thick, frizzy hair. April had on her black snow-bibs, a bright green jacket, and a pink scarf covering her nose and mouth. Her pure blue eyes met Jadeās smile and the two giggled as they stepped out into the snowy, polar world.
It was as if they were on a different planet. Neither Jade nor April had ever experienced much snow in their lives. Flurries and flakes fell in silent heaps on every surface, transforming the apartment complex into a pure and sparkling sanctuary. Cars had become soft, gentle shapes, snoozing in their numbered spaces like large albino buffalo. Railings and stairs were no longer rectangular; their normally sharp angles were softened by the snow.
Closing the door securely behind them, April and Jade began their mission: a mile walk along neighborhood trails to a natural food store. Once away from the roads and buildings, Jade could feel her senses heightening. Her dilated pupils followed the delicate shadows running across the snow without marring its surface. An occasional flake would land on her sclera in a sharp frozen moment, but was easily blinked away. The path wound through tall evergreens. Normally green with moss, the accumulated blanket of white encased their trunks.
āIt feels like Narnia,ā she said softly.
āYeah,ā said April. āIām half-expecting the White Witch to pop out behind a tree any second.ā
āAslan, save us!ā Jade giggled. Her expression became contemplative. Ā āItās all so equally foreboding and welcoming.ā
They continued wandering along in silence, intending to disrupt the calm as little as possible. The ice glittered flirtatiously at them and the girls shimmered smiles back. Filled with euphoria and curiosity, they felt this sensation increase gradually as snow continued drifting down. April realized she had been examining a tree trunk for some time. Her hand was on its bark and she could feel energy flowing from the ground, up the trunk, through her arm, and down into the ground again. She looked over at Jade, who was seated on the edge of the trail just a few yards away. Jade sat cross-legged in lotus facing a frozen creek. April approached her gradually. Jadeās breathing was slow and deep and shimmering tears glided down her beaming face. Eventually, Jade turned and looked into Aprilās mildly concerned face.
āThoreau was so right,ā she said, grinning. She knew April wouldnāt understand the connection of sitting before an icy creek just like her hero, Henry D., had done by Walden Pond. Nonetheless, the words had to be said to be remembered.
April helped her to her feet and the two continued forwards, picking their way through the polar woods.
It was difficult to judge the passing of time with accuracy, but a satisfying series of moments later, the pair turned a corner to see the dazzling mecca of a natural food store. They trudged, laughing, across the thick snowfall on the parking lot. Tall, buzzing lights highlighted snowflakes as they wound their paths through the parky air. Some cars lingered in the lot like giant drowsy polar bears, while a green tractor growled along, shoving heaps of snow at the far end of the lot. The grocery storeās brilliant green sign shone like the Emerald City of Oz or Daisyās malachite dock light. Jade couldnāt decide which was more accurate. Snow had gathered right up to the glass doors, which she yanked open. The pair readjusted their wide, wide eyes to the fascinating rainbow array of various vegetables in bins before them. The distorted faces of strangers seemed to peer at them like strange birds. They removed their gloves and unzipped their heavy coats.
After a minute or two of stepping carefully through the nearly empty aisles, April turned to Jade. āYou know, food doesnāt sound very enticing right now.ā
āSame here. Ready to walk back?ā asked Jade.
April nodded. Rezipping their layers, they began a leisurely pace out of the store and back onto the trail to Aprilās apartment where it would be warm, not that either of them could feel the temperature in their current states.
April led Jade on a slightly different trail this time. They stumbled upon a clearing which held a play structure. Slides, wobbling bridges, ladders, fire poles, and more stood tall in the snow. April and Jade explored these man-made structures in the soft light of the winter night.
āIāll go down the slide if you do,ā said April, looking at Jade.
Jade shrugged, but was inwardly delighted at the invitation. āIām in.ā
To anyone who chanced to be passing through the woods that night, two loud shrieks could be heard followed by fits of giggles radiating from that little clearing. The girls stood, brushed off a little snow and left the play structure behind, following the icy stream once more.
After a few minutes, April peeled off her gloves and stopped for a smoke break. Jade had climbed halfway up a tree when she heard a loud gasp from Aprilās direction.
āEverything ok?ā Jade called out.
āJade! My ring!ā said April. āMy ring is gone. Fuck.ā
Jade climbed down meticulously and crouched next to April. There had been many occasions when Jade was with people who had various substances in their bloodstreams. She knew they had a tendency to blow things out of proportion or misplace important items in their own pockets. April, meanwhile, was searching frantically through the snow for her diamond engagement ring. She ripped through each of her many pockets, her pack of cigarettes, and sleeves searching for the lost rock.
āIs it in your glove?ā asked Jade.
āNo! Itās not anywhere,ā said April, her voice unusually quiet and coarse as if she suddenly had pebbles in her throat.
Jade joined April in digging through the snow. It quickly became clear that the ring wasnāt there.
āIt must have fallen off elsewhere,ā said April.
Jade heard the alarm in her voice. āYouāve had your gloves on most of the night. It has to be at your apartment or at the store.ā
āSomeone will have stolen it! That ring is worth a lot. I have to find it.ā
āIāll walk back to the store in the morning and see if itās been turned in, but Iām sure you must have taken it off at your place. I remember you twisting it around your finger before we left.ā said Jade confidently.
April barely heard her. āIām going back to the apartment to look for it.ā She stood up and charged down the trail, with Jade rushing to keep up. While April raced at the pace of a trail-horse following the scent of alfalfa back to her barn, Jadeās mind was far too engrossed in her surroundings to keep up with her friend. She delighted in each pine needle, was mesmerized by the way light lay across the soft snow, and reached out her long pink tongue to slurp cold ice off of sharply pointed leaves. Intoxicated as she was by her environment, Jade tried her best to stay focused on her companionās anxiety. She didnāt want to add to the stress.
At last they stepped out of the trees to see Pine Court Apartments. April dashed up the steps and tore open her door. Jade followed, noting the increased quantity of snow which had accumulated on the steps in their absences. April ran her eyes over every counter and table in her small home. She yanked drawers open, looked under pillows, and threw stray blankets and jackets every which way in a mad hunt for the ring. Jade attempted to help but was too overwhelmed and became very aware she would begin to have a bad trip if she stayed inside much longer.
April glanced at Jade. āYou ok?ā
āApril. Iām so sorry. I want to help you look, but I think I need to be outside,ā said Jade. The two made intense eye contact which transmitted absolute sincerity in ways words cannot. Jade could tell April wanted to be away from all these objects and under the trees, too. But April could do nothing until she found that ring.
āI totally understand. Be safe.ā
āThanks,ā said Jade.
April returned to the search. Meanwhile, Jade wandered about.
She built snow sculptures and trudged through deep snowfall, leaving windy twirling curving tracks behind. With the gentle ground below her and open sky gently sieving down snow from above, Jade felt at ease once again. She thought of April who was currently terrifying: full of hot anger and contagious anxiety. Jade wanted so much to share this perfect snowy scenery with someone, and thought briefly of her ex-boyfriend, with whom she had last eaten shrooms. She shook away his face and imagined a friend by her side. This person would be the best of company and rescue her from this excruciating loneliness. This nameless individual would laugh with her on good days and sit with her on bad ones. It was at that moment that Jade realized this person did exist, and that she needed her help. April must be feeling just as alone as I am. Perhaps they could be the solution to their shared solitude. April was lost on stormy seas and Jade was looking for a garden in the desert. She would have to swallow her impulses and return to the apartment to help her friend.
It was then that she felt a tickling sensation near her stomach. Her gloved hand felt a vibration coming from her left pocket. She pulled out her cellphone, flipped it open, and heard Aprilās strained voice: āI need you, man.ā
āIāll be there as quickly as I can.ā
āThanks.ā
Jade heard a moist sob before April hung up.
Within minutes, Jade was stepping back inside. All the lights were off, except a dim lamp in the corner which emanated red light across the ceiling. The air inside was hot and thick like the interior of a black car parked in the sun. Various items had been strewn across the floor and counter. Things were knocked off of small tables and drawers and cabinets hung open. Finally, Jadeās eyes found April. She was barely clothed and lying on her stomach across the couch, surrounded by the layers sheād been wearing. Jade removed her soggy shoes and jacket and knelt at her side. April had clearly been crying Ā for some time. Jade regretted leaving her alone for so long.
āYou donāt understand. Itās more than just a ring!ā April choked out . She sniffed loudly. Ā
Jade got up and returned with an offering of tissues.
After blowing her nose loudly several times, April continued. āIt cost three thousand dollars! Thatās an enormous amount of money for me to be carrying around on my finger. I didnāt even want something so expensive but he insisted I have the biggest diamond he could afford! Everyone is going to be so mad at me. I donāt want to have to tell them I lost it. Theyāre going to hate me. I should just break up with Evan now! Whereās my phone? Iām going to call him!ā
āThatās an enormous burden, to have that kind of responsibility,ā Jade thought aloud, though she felt quite timid in the presence of such an emotional display.
āExactly! I hate it. Why donāt people buy outdoor gear or something for the people they love instead of a ring? Think of what three thousand dollars can buy!ā
āMan, that would make so much more sense.ā Jadeās eyes wandered towards the ceiling as she counted on her fingers. āYou could get top-of-the-line Vasque hiking boots, a gravity water filter, a down sleeping bag, a nice pack, a climbing harness, and a super lightweight sleeping pad⦠and still have money left over. Think about all the incredible experiences and memories that equipment would make possible. All the places itād take you. That sounds like a way better way to express love.ā Jade sighed. āBut maybe it would be better not to spend the money on material goods. Because things are only things. They come and go.ā
April sniffed again. She sat up and looked around her. āI canāt stand all this stuff! Itās polluting me! I hate it!ā She began to sob again.
Jade looked at her gently, still crouched by April on the sofa. It occurred to her that April was depending on her to find a solution to this predicament. She stood and began folding a pair of pants as she said, āItās like that book we looked through last week, Be Here Now. You can only Be Here in this Now. Thatās all there is. Each of these things, your ring included, are merely objects. Theyāre all very temporary. And so are we.ā The words came to her from somewhere deep inside. She felt them flow out of trapdoors within her which had never been unlocked before. āWe canāt mourn the coming and going of material objects when there are far more important things to celebrate.ā Jade hung up jackets in the tiny broom closet by the door and continued in a calm voice which April found to be very soothing. She listened intently. Meanwhile, Jade was afraid to say the wrong thing and provoke April further, but she couldnāt keep the words from coming out.āThat diamond is simply a rock, made of minerals and atoms just like us. True, it may refract light in an especially alluring manner, but I think the light you shine is far more brilliant and Iām sure your fiancĆ©e would agree with me on that one. When he gets back from his brotherās house tomorrow, you can explain everything and Iām sure heāll understand completely. Anyone who would refuse to forgive you over a rock isnāt worth keeping around.ā Jade had moved into the kitchen and was washing the dishes in the sink.
The gears of Aprilās mind were whirring with these new thoughts. She watched with wide, red eyes as Jade came back to the living room began returning fallen objects to their proper places and organizing small items here and there. āYou know, there was this quote on the wall in one of my old English classes which has always stuck with me. It was Emerson, I think. āRings and other jewels are not gifts, but merely apologies for gifts. The only true gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me.ā Or something like that. What he meant is that the only true gift is to give part of oneself: your talents, your time, your genuine effort. I think thatās beautiful. Oh, look.ā Jade had been tidying things on the coffee table when she had seen something interesting in a small ceramic container of Aprilās ritalin pills. She picked up the diamond ring and extended it to April who released a great volume of air from her lungs.
āI must have taken it off and put it in there for safe keeping while we were getting ready! I completely forgot! Oh my god!ā April slipped the ring on her thin, long fingers, then removed it and set it back carefully in her ritalin container. She sighed. āEvan and I certainly have plenty to discuss when he gets back.ā She looked around at her apartment: once a post-tornado trauma zone, now in order and void of stray rubbish.
Jade handed her another tissue and smiled warmly. April extended her slender arms and the women embraced. Out the window, earthbound snow continued to drift from the glowing clouds.
Happy SundayĀ !
My windowsill and little things Iāve pocketed on my travels
Rock climbers don't have thigh gaps.
Yesterday
I overslept by an hour, and munched a quick bowl of cereal before heading to the ceramics studio. After working on the wheel and throwing several pieces of varying size and shape, my ceramics buddy came over and we made burritos and had hummus with broccoli and pita. Then, we cruised over to Stoneworks to hit the walls. In spite of a fear of heights, she scaled a wall all the way to the top! Very impressive. A protein-spinach-berry smoothie at my place and we headed back to campus for a Pow Wow. Very cool, very loud. I watched a couple of episodes of Girls online and read and fell deeply asleep. Perfect day in the SW.
Lost Dog
This is a scene from a short story I'm working on. The narrator and his dog, Atlas, were visiting hot springs in the desert of Death Valley when Atlas ran off. On the dogās second day lost, the narrator is now on his way to visit a dog breeder out in the cuts to inquire about his missing companion.
Carefully stealing quick glances at the written directions in my hand, while simultaneously keeping my eyes on the road before me, I drove off the main highway onto a partially paved road. I became familiar with how worn and flat my seat cushion was as the station wagon clobbered along, leaving long trails of dust rising up behind. The pavement diminished quickly and it became a true dirt road. With each lurch forward, I felt my chest rise with the anticipation that Atlas might be at the roadās end.
After twenty minutes of creeping along carefully, a few small wooden buildings and a chain-link kennel behind a shed came into view. I pulled up next to the building which looked most like a house and got out. The sound of many large dogs barking filled my ears. Just as I was about to knock on the front door, I heard a gruff shout over the dogsā noise.
āHowdy there!ā
I turned to see a heavy older man with a bristly grey beard walking towards me.
āHey there. Iām Jack.ā I took a few steps in his direction and extended my right hand. The man shook it with rough but warm hands and smiled.
āYou must be the young fella I talked to on the phone. Nice to meet ya. Lookinā for your dog?ā he said.
āYes.ā I replied. āHeās about two feet high, three feet end-to-end, with a long bushy tail. Mostly grey but with black and white patches. Tall, sharp ears. He answers to āAtlasā and food. I thought maybe he smelled your dogs and came looking for company or scraps to eat.ā
The man paused for a moment, as barks continued emanating from the large kennel but the shed in front of it obstructed me from seeing the canines within. āSorry, son, I havenāt seen your dog. Youāre welcome to poke around here and look for signs of him. If I see him, or hear anything, Iāll be sure to give ya a call.ā
I sighed. āThanks,ā I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
āSure thing, and listen,ā he paused, āThe good ones always find their way back home.ā He walked back to the side of a shed where it was clear he had been repainting its dusty, wooden exterior. I glanced at my filthy car and saw that it, too, would need a new paint job if I continued trucking all over desert roads like this.
My thoughts quickly returned to Atlas. I tried not to get my hopes up. Walking around the edge of the little house, I could finally see the kennel where all the racket was coming from. Fifteen, maybe twenty, large wolf-like dogs were staring at me from behind their wire enclosure. Their magnificent eyes ranged from black to amber to an icy blue, the older dogs looking at me dead-on, while the younger, slimmer ones barked incessantly in my direction. I remembered what the old man had told me over the phone that morning. He bred sled dogs and led teams through the mountains in the winter when snow piled up on rocky peaks. The dogs appeared to be husky and malamute mixes, panting in the warm, dry air under their thick, full coats.
Peeling my eyes away, I looked at the dirt below my feet as I carefully searched for any sign of Atlas -- a paw print or wisp of his shedding coat. Unfortunately, the grounds were overly yielding. Paw prints of every size coated the ground. Fur clumps of every color clung to protruding nails and rested in the dirt against various structures. An hour later, after picking my way all around the acreage of the dog ranch several times, I found a small vegetable garden, two antique-looking dog sleds, some interesting quartz samples which I pocketed, and small pale green cacti, but no sign of my Atlas.
With a nod of thanks to the desert dog breeder, I returned to my station wagon and headed back down that awful road. I held onto hope as my eyes constantly scanned the desert valley surrounding me for a glimpse of my wayward pal.
Drug Addict Taking Apart a Calculator
Anything to take her mind off the cold. Anything anything anything to distract from the ferocious craving which held her. She searched mindlessly through the dark, forlorn house. A moldy sock, a broken drawer, damp matches, half a pencil, piles of trash and bottles next to a colorless couch with springs poking through.
Off the hall -- the rooms were colder there -- she found an unfamiliar box. Something she hadn't seen before in her many hours wandering the house, waiting for the next fix. Inside the box were wet file folders, mildew on manila. Something with hard corners felt firm under the melting papers. Her black, filthy nails reached for it and pulled out a plastic, square shape. She stood, hunched, and trudged back into the house's largest room.
As if giving into gravity, she collapsed onto the broken couch under the smeary window. From sunken orbits, dark eyes peered at the object in her hands. Buttons stood out on its face with numbers and symbols on them. She pressed "ON" but the calculator remained lifeless. She growled in frustration.
When would he return with that release she needed? Needed. There was no life without it.
She turned and looked through the window. It was grey and dark outside. She had stopped guessing between dawn and dusk. In the pale light, she examined the calculator. A faint, colorful memory wavered somewhere in that cratered brain. Her father, a thousand years ago, had used a TV remote to show her how a circuit works. Perhaps calculators had similar systems.
Using a rust encrusted nail which had been jutting from the rotting wood wall, she worked off the flimsy plastic cover. Underneath, red, blue, and green wires ran between buttons and a tiny chipboard was tucked beneath the delicate screen. A wire was loose and wouldn't stay put when she clicked it back in. Her soggy mind went over the house's inventory.
She hurried over to the crooked table in what was once an open kitchen. Her long thin fingers raked the table's underside. Grasping a solidified gob, she scraped off the ancient gum and popped it in her mouth. It took effort, but after an eternity of mastecation, she had softened it.Ā
Returning to the window's bleak light, she held the rebel wire in place, then pulled the wad of old gum from her mouth and manipulated the wire into submission.Ā
Clicking the calculator's cover delicately on, she paused. After a deep and rattled breath, her eyes opened wide and expectantly as she pressed the "ON" button for the second time that day...
The little screen remained dark. The empty, forgotten house filled with an animal's howl. Lost, alone, broken.
This is my homie, Jake. He is coming to Portland on Friday!! I am beyond stoked.
Grades are in! First term of college accomplished.
December 13
In bed past noon for the first time in four years.
Apple cinnamon oatmeal and vanilla cinnamon black tea for break fast.
A run which turned into following a winding, half frozen creek while ducking mossy branches, being dripped on, and snagging my jacket on thorns. I found a giant jar with fish printed on it and took it home.
Sixty-five squats.
Ravioli for dinner which hurt my tummy.Ā
Guitar.
Read some of a Ram Dass book.
Half an hour of Add-On with two guys at the climbing gym. They close early on Fridays. I forgot. It's ok; I was tired anyway.
Drove back to my apartment and made almond butter toast. Ate an apple after.
Wrote a letter to friend.
Played with glitter glue.Ā
Continued to ignore the Ex. Still hurting. Not regretful, just feeling abandoned and isolated and locked in this solitude.
My favorite person is about to move halfway around the planet. I don't know what to do about that, but be happy for her and try not to let her hear me the tears when she calls.
What's the point of keeping an interested mind, a strong body, and healthy self respect if I'm doing this alone? I don't want to be alone anymore. I'm done. I give up. Please, I just want a hug. I want to sit with a friend and cry on her shoulder or have him bring me a hot drink and a familiar smile.Ā
Please.
I want a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Universe, send me someone I can call a friend. I'm really trying. I promise. Please.
Jake and I are going to make an album together.
It's going to be called "Ballin' & Bawlin'"
What to Do with the Next Forty Years
In the 1960s, the British philosopher Alan Watts taught at the Academy of Asian Studies in San Francisco and eventually became Dean. Throughout this chapter of his career, he was often questioned by students wondering what they ought to do with their post-college lives. He said, āWhen we finally got down to something, which the individual says he really wants to do, I will say to him, you do that and forget the money, because, if you say that getting the money is the most important thing, you will spend your life completely wasting your time. Youāll be doing things you donāt like doing in order to go on living, that is to go on doing things you donāt like doing, which is stupid. Better to have a short life that is full of what you like doing than a long life spent in a miserable way.ā This only brings to mind my old neighbor, Erick, and the many conversations we have had out in the backyard, as he grilled whatever he had caught in the bay that morning.
Erick is a great human being. Heās a green contractor, an amazing dad, and fun to be around as he is always telling jokes and stories. One day, he told me something in particular which I think of often as I try to decide which college degree to work towards. His usually smiling face assumed a serious countenance as he looked right into my eyes and said, āSarah, if you can figure out a way to make money doing what you love, youāll never have to work a day in your life.ā His life is a true example of this. He loves traveling with his family and building things, and has found a way to do both and financially support both. Watts was right; one must use his or her time towards something they love. Erick is right, too; one must find a way to support this love with at least a small paycheck.
When I imagine the application of this in my own life, the daydreams begin. How do I find a way to make money hiking, backpacking, reading, travelling, speaking spanish, cooking, rock climbing, and playing guitar? Ā I want to climb mountains and hike the Pacific Crest Trail. I want to go to Costa Rica and Mexico, waking up at four oāclock every morning to help hatching sea turtles make it from the beach to the surf. I want to live in a 1950s California ranch house on the Lost Coast and fill it with books, incense, and rescue dogs so that I can devote every waking hour to penning my first novel or short story collection. I want to learn how different mountain ranges form and why leaves vary so much in shape and how pachyderms were impacted by their environments over time to evolve into the African and Asian elephants. I want to understand the physics which hold our universe together -- moons, planets, stars -- without having to worry about understanding complex math. I want to help rehabilitate motherless sea otter pups. I want to find a way to help the next generation grow up in a less sexist, racist world. I want to wake up at folk festivals in conifer forests, surrounded by strangers who are already family, and spend the days exploring and meeting fascinating individuals and hearing their stories. I want to spend a year or two in a greasy jumpsuit as the apprentice to a mechanic and understand how every mechanism moves interdependently as a way to better understand how we all move together to move forward together. I donāt want to live my life waiting for the weekend.
If I were to satisfy these desires, I would spend the next two decades in college. Oh, no problem. Thatās just a degree each in the following: zoology, english, geology, botany, archeology, astronomy, auto mechanics. But then thereās the fact that Iām not exactly known for my patience. Iām ready, now, to be using my energy and strength and brain towards all of these.
For the time being, Iām taking a geology class next term to see if itās a good fit. I spent five months over the summer travelling about California and Mexico, climbing everywhere I went. In each locale, I could not contain my curiosity in regards to the immense variations in rocks and minerals which I found. The natural geography, too, was fascinating. I was always reading signs at vista points which described glacial or tectonic plate influences on valleys and mountains alike. My older brother (whom I admire profusely) is about to graduate with a degree in geology. His house, much like my apartment, is filled with rocks and minerals of every shape, size, color, and texture on each table, windowsill, and shelf. That must be a sign. Yet, my space also contains many plants and charts of pines and wildflowers. And maps. And tie dye. And astronomy-related objects. And pens and journals. And books. What am I to do? Oh where am I going? Canāt I just go climbing and worry about all this some other time?
Well, at least I know what I want. Now Iām on step two: figuring out how to get it. Thatās the challenging bit. But challenges are welcome. Hopefully, I will like this geology class and in a couple more years, graduate with a Bachelorās of Science degree. Hopefully. Then, I can contract out my skills to private companies building mountain roads and such as a freelance geologist. Their employment rate is 100%. Thatās comforting. I can work where I want, travelling from state to state as I get contracts. After a day of sampling and surveying, I can find nearby hot springs, or climb a cliff face, or run with my dogs (who, of course, Iāll take with me everywhere). Iāll be far from fluorescents and shopping malls and plastic wrap. In this way, I see a harmonious balance of doing what I love while simultaneously supporting myself. Financial security is as important to me as the independence to live as I like.
But, maybe geology wonāt be āmy thing.ā Calculus may prove too difficult and Iāll wind up switching degrees to⦠zoology! And I will miraculously be hired at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, my childhood wonderland, as a caretaker of the southern sea otters, Enhydra lutris nereis. Iāll feed, train, and heal these clever marine relatives of the weasel family, and my voice will be carried over the loudspeaker as aquarium visitors learn about their unique feeding and social habits. Sea otters rest together in groups called rafts, tying one another together with kelp so they donāt drift apart in their sleep. Sometimes, these otters eat so many sea urchins that their teeth and bones turn purple. Do I really want to recite this dialogue every day for decades? On further thought, maybe the routine would be dull.
How about becoming a novelist? Thereās a thought. Sitting here, writing this, I keep thinking, āSarah! You need to stop becoming distracted and finish your assignments!ā But then I realize this actually is an assignment. Writing feels so natural to me. I love it. This isnāt work at all. And so I wonder: how do I find a way to make money through writing? Book sales will be just about extinct by the end of the decade; much like Ray Bradbury predicted in Fahrenheit 451, people donāt read anymore. As Watts said back in the 1960s, āitās so amazing as a result of our kind of educational system, crowds of students say well, weād like to be painters, weād like to be poets, weād like to be writers, but as everybody knows you canāt earn any money that way.ā So if I end up writing, it will purely be for my own therapeutic needs. I know better than to think I am some unbelievably gifted author who could become the next Rowling or Gaiman, Steinbeck or Kerouac.
If I allow my mind to wander, and imagine for a moment that money truly was not a factor in my future path, I think I would write. Likely, Iād produce travel narratives of my adventures. I would travel, spending half the year on the road at least, and write write write constantly. I would learn and feed my soul with words and music, a pack of dogs, rocks, and food from every culture. Stories would become my currency.
For now, my future is up in the air. I cannot rightly say where I will be in a decade, or five years, or even two. This is a frightening fact, but I am not so timid as I once was. I am determined. I will persevere. I will explore and take risks and learn. Those who cannot find a way to live the life they desire are merely daunted or lacking the necessary will and creativity. I only know I must use this life to thrive while serving a purpose and am determined to do so. Perhaps I will find this as a geologist, or a writer, or perhaps some role I havenāt even imagined yet.
It was 26 degrees
and I ran for twenty minutes. Brown rice, black beans, and lime for dinner.
My brother left his little sister and dog alone in his attic for a couple hours. We got bored.