All that glitters...

I've been at my "new job" for a month, and I love it. I feel a bit like I've scammed the universe into giving me a job that is beyond perfect for me, and I'm just waiting to get caught in the act. Sure, like any job, there are things I don't like, but they are few and far between. Overall, my job is an absurd amount of fun.

We're talking, there is a byline in my budget for glitter. Glitter, people. This is not reality.

I'm designing Outreach programs for a small non-profit music festival in San Fran. Basically, that just means that I'm coming up with new ways to show people how to relate to the arts. I like to hope that my programs will put the performing and fine arts back into the vernacular language of our culture, but that might be a bit far-fetched. Regardless, I'm starting out with a small-ish kids' program. I'm putting on ten events in conjunction with our concerts, and every one of them makes me smile. There's a day when we're having a professional muralist come in and work with the kids. We're having a "rock band petting zoo," where the kids can try out the different instruments and hear how they sound up close. We're making Mardi Gras masks, Batik flags, and maracas out of mailing tubes and pinto beans.

I can honestly say that I've never done work that makes me feel this happy. Perhaps it's a bit early in the process to make a judgment call like this, but I really feel like I could build an amazing program, one that will make me proud of what I do. I arrive to work (and leave, as well) feeling hopeful about my world. It's a new feeling for me in recent years, the feeling that life is all going to work out for the best. It's a feeling that I'm growing accustomed to, and one that I would love to snuggle into like a fluffy blanket. This might sound ridiculous, but this job makes me feel, oddly, "safe." It's refreshing to feel like my world doesn't revolve around myself every single moment. And yes, the blog is an odd forum to be making that statement, I realize, being entirely self-motivated and me-centered. What I mean, I suppose, is that this job makes me feel like my identity isn't tied so much to who likes me (or doesn't), my single-ness, my appearance, whatever. My identity also isn't tied to my playing, the amount of time I spent practicing, or what I'm capable of learning to play tomorrow.

Does that sound crazy? I guess it probably is, particularly for those of you who've been in the "real world" for longer than I have. Maybe it's just getting out of school, or maybe my job really is the reason behind it. I just finally feel at home in my life.

And the glitter doesn't hurt!

A mixed bag

Tonight I feel utterly decadent. I skipped a concert that I'd been planning to attend since October, organized a photo album, drank wine, and watched a movie. And today I learned that we get a week of vacation "off the books" at the end of August. So... any suggestions for a great solo vacation? I'm thinking of renting a cabin in Big Sur, or perhaps Yosemite. Any other ideas? I'd prefer that it not involve an airplane, though I'm not absolutely nixing the idea.

Last night, I had one of the strangest conversations with J that I've ever imagined. We talked not only about the new people we're seeing, but also gave one another advice on how to treat our new "people." And, oddly, I didn't end the conversation feeling hurt. I felt a bit sad that I can't ascertain Mushroom Man's intentions. I'm feeling competitive that J's in a more stabile position with his new girlfriend than I am with the quasi-boyfriend. But I'm overwhelmingly okay with the whole thing. Is that odd? I think it probably is. But I think it's a good thing.

Oh God.

Anyhoo...

My downstairs neighbors have been banging on my floor (their ceiling) for the past three weeks. It's beginning to irritate the living shit out of me. I'm annoyed enough that I'm beginning to consider moving. Or shooting them. One of the two.

I refuse to believe how truly abysmal this post is. Eh. Such is life.

Happiness!

It was a great weekend. Malia arrived on Thursday, and Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were nothing but fun. I finally met the gorgeous and wonderful-in-every-way Stacy, along with Jurgen and Matt! And let's not forget about great times spent with Don Q, camping, eating, and Golden-Gate-Bridge...ing. All three of them took gorgeous pictures, to which I will add links as soon as I figure out how best to do that. Ahem. And, as always, the weekend provided myriad Golden Nuggets Of The Spoken Word. A few highlights, you beg? Why, certainly!

I think a fox died in my mouth.

Would you care for a trypleberry muffin?

My hair looks like the apocalypse.

There are more, but those are the only ones I'm remembering at the moment. Because I rock like that. sigh.

In other news, my office has finally reopened after Fire Break 2007. It ended up being a delightful week off. Interestingly, we have now discovered that the fire was set intentionally by a crazy man who thought there were evil spirits in his bedroom. Awesome! Luckily, no one was hurt, and he's getting professional help now. And hey, I got a week off! So... HA! I was actually pretty anxious to get back to work all week, and now I feel like I've lost some major momentum. Yesterday I stared at my computer screen a bunch, and then read a lot of education materials. I think it'll take me a few days to get back in the groove. Eh. Such is life.

Lastly, have y'all seen this? Because... wow. That's really the only way to put it. Wow.

Happy Tuesday!

Very little to say...

Today my place of work caught on fire. The building next door burned to the ground. We evacuated with no alarm, only because my boss happened to see flames shooting past his window. Ten seconds after we passed the front door, the windows blew out in the building next to ours.

You never think that this happens, not in our era. You don't think that a building will burn to the ground in under an hour, as you watch from across the street. You don't think that the smoke alarm in your building will simply never go off.

I am not a religious person. But whatever or whoever is up there, I'm thankful for my life, and for the lives of my friends.

I don't have anything deep or meaningful to say. I'm shaken to my core at the moment, even after three hours and as many glasses of wine. Okay, that's it.

Descriptions of Point Reyes

Yesterday I spent the day in Point Reyes with one of my all-time best friends, Biodude. We drove up to hopefully catch a glimpse of the migrating gray whales, and to enjoy the beautiful weather and the extra hour of daylight. I've spent 24 hours trying to construct a narrative that would accurately depict my impression of Point Reyes as my new Favorite Place On Earth, but to no avail. All I can come up with are these scattered impressions, which will probably make me sound like a pretentious lunatic, but whatever. It's my blog!

There's something about the air in Point Reyes. It's the scent of the Pacific mingling with dust and the indescribable aroma of sunshine. To inhale is like diving into a cool lake, a lake that is so clear that you can see the stones at the bottom. With each breath, I could feel my heartbeat slowing, my muscles loosening.

Sea lions! Nearly a hundred females and babies, their smooth, oblong bodies like so many gray and brown stones spread on the beach. And one gigantic male, like a slab of earth lying, immense, in the middle of his harem. Seen from far away, their movements were barely discernible, the occasional flip of a limb the only sign of life.

We hoped all day to see a whale, scanning the horizon as we hiked the coast trail, searching for a telltale puff of mist to signal a moving pod. On the rare instance that we passed other hikers, they would invariably tell us of the whale they'd just spotted, "closer than you'd think." As we sat on a cliff, silently staring at the endless spot where the ocean and the sky collide, we were both ready to go home. As we leaned down to pack our belongings, something made us both look up at a spot only about 50 feet away. At the burst of mist, we both shouted, standing completely still until the hulking dark shadow in the water was completely out of sight.

I sometimes think that I am the luckiest person in the universe. Not only because of my habit of finding the greatest-ever parking spot, nor because of the odd carnival games that I seem to win despite my lack of games-and-sports prowess, but also because I have some of the most amazing friends in the world. I think the definition of a great friendship is the ability to see one another for the first time in eight months, and then immediately spend a solid two hours staring at waves crashing on cliffs in complete and companionable silence. To trust someone enough that words are rendered unnecessary: that, to me, is love.

Is there anything as divine as the feeling of wet sand and icy ocean water on trail-worn feet? If there is, I dare you to find it.

We were at Point Reyes for six hours, maybe eight. And as we were walking back to the car, after an hour of climbing rocks on the beach, I looked at Biodude and said, "I feel like I've been on vacation for a week." He nodded. Then he said, "Next time, you should probably wear even more sunscreen."