August 30, 2004

It's hard to write about the end of camp because everything was so spectacular and so, relatively, nothing is worth writing about more than anything else, and I certainly can't write about everything...

It feels strange now to eat my cheerios alone. It is odd to feel so inside a building, to not know exactly what the weather is like at any moment, to be able to shut out the sound of the rain. When I wanted to go to a movie last night, I had only a handful of friends to call, and not three hundred.

Communal living is for me. Life can be a lonesome business. I love to feel independent and free and motivated and strong, but I find it easier to live this way when I am surrounded by others. Now, alone in Portland, I find myself procrastinating, and calling Sam more than usual, and actually feeling bored. How can I be bored when there is so much to do?

Lila Rose and I have talked about raising families together. I like this idea. Sam and I have actually begun thinking about buying a house, and yesterday I went to look at a lovely duplex, yellow walls and hardwood floors and sunshine, and I imagined lots of people and communal dinners and group projects and dogs and kids maybe, sometime. I need this kind of home base. I need to share my cereal.

After I left camp, Sam and I drove to New Hampshire where we had out belated birthday dinner (special chicken, yum) with Mom and Dad and Meghan and Dan and Bethany. [Okay, this is really weird. Just as I wrote the word "chicken," a chicken began squawking somewhere in my neighborhood. A chicken. In the city. And it's, like, very loud. I'm sorry, Chicken. Please forgive my omnivorosity.] We spent a delightful few days with my family, eating good meals and shopping and laughing and seeing friends and sleeping in. One afternoon Sam and I drove to Peterborough to visit Gayle and Rick. We rode tandem bicycles to the McDowell Dam, where we picnicked on bread and cheese and deviled eggs and tomatoes and mozzarella and chocolate before laying in the sunshine.

Though I currently feel a bit aimless, it is good to be back in Portland. While in Connecticut, Portland began to feel like a foreign land, so far away, so different from the east coast. But when the plane landed a few days ago, and I stepped out of the airport into the cool Portland air, I remembered the city and we were friends again.

When I arrived back at the house, Darius and I had a ridiculous run-in with a big ol' spider in my room. The encounter began with Darius jumping on my bed and me running around shrieking (we are both quite the arachnophobics), and ended with yelling, laughing, and the saving grace of a vacuum.

[Seriously, this chicken is the loudest chicken in the universe.]

I worked at Imago for two days, one day in rehearsal and the next in performance. It was weird to be back because it wasn't weird at all. I expected culture shock, but it all felt so natural and regular to be hopping around again with the Frogz folks. I did feel much more re-centered, though. Camp has helped me to put everything in perspective, to remember what is important

Yesterday morning, my first time idle and alone, started out very well. I went house hunting and walked all over the southeast and got a bagel at a coffee shop on Belmont and read the paper and bumped into Eric and went grocery shopping and did laundry. But then my steam ran out and I turned into a real lame-o with "nothing" to do and I found myself lying on my bed and calling Sam as a crutch. I had wanted to go to the movies, but I couldn't get in touch with anyone. Sam (wisely) encouraged me to go anyway, to take myself out on a date, to hop on his bike and ride downtown.

And I did and it was excellent. While I was riding across the bridge I spied on about a thousand summery festivals on the banks of the Willamette and I saw people dancing in the street and munching on fried dough and hot pretzels. And I remembered that a whole lot is happening all of the time, camp or not. I decided then and there to get out more, to read the paper, to take some classes, to go to community events, to paint and throw clay and make books. There really is so much to do.

The movie was incredible. Garden State, written and directed and starring Zach Braff. It was honest and real and vivid and wonderful. It made me feel alive again and I rode gleefully home to toast a bagel and look up classes online.

This morning Abeeza woke me up by batting me repeatedly in the face, his whiskers tickling my nose. This was at 5:30am. I managed to put him off for a couple of hours, but his meows became so incessant and pitiful that I roused myself to feed him. And now the sun has come out and is gently lighting up my room. Today I will visit Jaime and see the boys and call Colleen and get outside, and work hard at remembering that there is no time to be lonesome, no time to be idle.


[P.S. The server was down for a few days. If you have been emailing and gotten anything bounced back, everything should be working again now.]

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