m,

of course i understand, it monumentous! which unfortunately isn’t quite a word, but whatever. you get it.

it’s one foot in front of the other these days, with my eyes not exactly ahead and not exactly tripping over my feet, but somewhere in-between. eventually i’ll get to where i’m going, which is what i tell myself to avoid in-the-moment panic. in the moment it’s all *full moon* in every sense of the word and writing deadlines and even less time for recreational blogging, reading and pop culture intake. at some point a girl’s going to snap. and i feel both ends of the candle burning down, down. or is it across. someday soon there won’t be so much pressure. and months or years down the line there will be more time. lots of time. too much time, even. as hard as that is to imagine.

as you can see, i can hardly be bothered with capitalization.

i *have* managed to watch prorun and grey’s this week (last week’s episode of grey’s, i mean), in a few moments of self-imposed midnight isolation. i can’t say either episode was particularly fulfilling, but the downtime registered, or at least wiped my brain clean enough so that i could sleep and dream about a next-door neighbor’s chickens, living in some state far from here and likely nonexistent. i was excited to buy eggs, even if the neighbor wasn’t excited enough about selling them.

note to self: missing both yoga sessions this coming week due to prior commitments, and so *must* buckle down with the podcasts. oh, and though i went to yoga this past week, it wasn’t really my friend. i never thought i’d say that about you, yoga, but it’s true. you hurt. although i suppose you had your work cut out for you. and still do.

and i’ve sort of reclaimed the downstairs den. although bailey is mournful and tortured as a soul this week, as we’ve placed a series of hard-to-move toys on the couch so she simply cannot lay there anymore. (there’s a new bed in the corner, a twin futon mattress – free! - that in all likelihood is a more comfy spot than the couch.) i just couldn’t take the fur and the clawed-up fabric and the dog-smell surrounding me in a way that said the room and the furniture were no longer for human use anymore. space is limited here, dammit, and that one has to be mine. so it is. it might be too cold for yoga down there, but we’ll see.

this day has passed in a whirlwind of coupons and errands and a particularly looming deadline (tomorrow), of which i have barely addressed. somewhere in there were some crab legs and a grilled roast, a sleeping beauty doll and some other sweet things for k.lo, an especially depressing episode of hoarders and the hilarious notion that k.lo’s party would have been today if it hadn’t been for the crappy weather. i suppose i could have pulled it off in the alternate universe, but at present, it seems like an impossibility that by now it would have been over and done. i hadn’t even bought a new bag of *pretzels* for heaven’s sake. what would people have eaten?

good night to you and more soon as always,

pen

Dear Penelope,

Enclosed please find a poem i wrote for the salon ladies.

we four.
blooms entwined in a common grace.

we patterned, composed
and one of a kind.

sometimes synchronous and
never too far afield-

measured this season's mystery
with divine appointment,

met coincidence no more,
as we bent with breeze
and bowed with rain-

flourished in each sun,
rise up
baked with fragrance

we delectable, we inscrutible four
marveled in secret our inmost

with a hush and downturned smile
stamped crumbs off the plate.

Dear Penelope,

Hello,

Callie and I went to traveltown near griffith park. The unfortunate thing with having a history with travel town is you see the decline and slowly but surely you're cut off from train after train because you know, they're old and falling apart and dangerous. But then as a kid it was big enough and full of wonder no matter what... so we'll take that tack in all the wonderful colors and shapes I found. It was a lovely relaxing time.

Penapiper,

Something happened where the momentum of reading books was lost, but lists were regained. 3 seperete lists but over 30books to read. There were too many series to watch. So I scaled netflix down. I became obsessed with house reruns and forensic files. I powerwashed the patio. I promised to clean out the garage. I helped Joanna move out of her house and off she goes to NewYork. I might have added an addiction to frozen yogurt (chocolate, nuts, fruit-always, no exceptions). I bought a hat. I'm helping the church plant things in the lot next door. I took on administrating a prayer request system and decided to try a modified ignatian prayer retreat with danica (just this last week). I was given a 2nd hand ipod but have done nothing whatever with it. And then there's the holydays necklaces. And my cold and now my sinus congestion and the tick in my shoulder and the ache in my elbow, but nevermind those. I still don't have a job. I woke up today with that small pressure of anxiety upon my heart and I'm sure its all financial, but yet nothing whatever has changed.

Did I get busy? Why was there suddenly no time to talk or communicate. I don't know. It's perhaps totally probable pen that a minor break from self occurred. Still is occurring. And yet recognizable as me. Hence the wild/wacky year as you call it. A couple shout outs of course go to sarah and our walks around balboa lake, and to the indian spice market and henna tattoos and the fish finding mission, my obsession with geese. I love fish and birds and most animals. They literally spark the happy button. But she as well as the birds fell prey to what Wagner fell prey to. A scan of blogs can only convey so much, as much as I love it. I mean April is a complete mystery for precisely that reason. It is sort of my online journal. And that present self apparently wanted to remain a mystery to the future self. Danica is right that 20 hours of my life was invested in the 'ring cycle'. Fantastic times. Dark chocolate, truffles, shots of bourbon and clementines and strawberries at every break. That one time where i reached into my bag and ate a slice of salami. It must have reeked. But seemed so necessary to keep me conscious. She and I as well went on a record 17 official outings. (Counted yesterday). Which doesn't include 4 opera outings, teas, lunches or other non-thorne faire. That is dedication to seeing each other. And the end result for me in the last 2 years of all this accumulated awesomeness of going here and there and getting in to this and that- is click my heels in the air kind of contentment. That I almost think I back away from trying to crack open anything that might lead to dissatisfaction.

I was flipping through the 'birthday book', and on the sidebar it says under weaknesses besides at my lowest being depressed and the other superficial, which even in some things I must be guilty of, the other was erratic which I've never related to, so I looked it up, and i feel more kinship with the word now than otherwise:

Main Entry: ¹er·rat·ic

Etymology: Middle English, from Latin erraticus, from erratus, past participle of errare

Date: 14th century

1 a : having no fixed course : wandering b archaic : nomadic
2 : transported from an original resting place especially by a glacier
3 a : characterized by lack of consistency, regularity, or uniformity b : deviating from what is ordinary or standard : eccentric

synonyms see strange

And I sort of agree here with me and my erraticness. People who wander make their home anywhere. They attach themselves to things and people as long as they can and might possibly not have any opinions about where to go and what to eat, because they're not fixed in preference, they're floating and on a tour of the otherpersons life, or tv series or book. They have nothing to say because its not their crisis, and they have none of their own. I would imagine, anyway. There's a consistency of person but I'm definitely on no fixed course as far as a job. A fine line between trusting God and running aground anywhere and calling it God. I feel erratic in my art forms which fuels the manicness I feel when I go to document it. Same with my outings. Its an interesting distillation of what is just currently, a season of my life and yet as we get older we may call it by a different name. Perhaps my erraticness will come out in different ways having been ruled in my earlier years with depression and then later superficiality might come to the fore- having overanalyzed myself and things for so long, i may just feel a little bit glad to not know too much or say anything about anything at all. Like now. And like it said above a boulder misplaced by a glacier, that might be me right now, feeling at home but not quite where I should be. I can't explain. But it'll be interesting to see what the coming back around might look like as comet. And perhaps its a calling to wander, and a nonfixed patience to be of service to others, so that instead of me- it is us, it is them, it is we. And that's a good thing too.

I like the pinetrees and their anachronistic and independent tendencies. Possibly a little too willful but tough/resistant and plentiful. And your freelance blogger self- that slow small germination growing into something. No need to dismiss dreams at the start when they may just take a while to form and spring forth. If only the progress was discernible sometimes. And yet now that its here, its real and won't leave you. Even if the bloom is short or turns carnivorous.

Next time we can talk all about my strengths: Playful, Unrestricted, and Natural.

Penolin,

Heyz you.

I will note that a few things did fall victim to my lack of documentation

m,

After two weeks without yoga: blah. I’m trapped in a chicken/egg cycle with yoga and cursed sciatica, coupled with the lack of personal time and space to try it at home. Well, anyway. I will probably go back tomorrow and see what happens.

I opted for the cheap haircut, the in-between trim, and it’s acceptable. For now. Frankly, it’s not short enough in the back, and I want to take the scissors to it myself, but then reason slaps me awake, shouting that it would be a very bad idea. And basically, my hair looks pretty much the same, it’s just the subtle nuances that come with a better cut. Chrissy takes an hour, all fast cuts; this girl, who was like 10 years younger than me, took 20 minutes, all slow cuts. Which, you get what pay for. But there is definitely a difference.

Have definitely reached the point of INFJ/HSP saturation where I need some downtime. NEED. And then there’s a shortage of available down time, or alone time, or even an extended quiet time would be nice. And so I don’t get what I need and lash out with claws and fangs and insult or alienate everyone in my path. I am actually extremely irritated about it at the moment, and have felt for the past 10 hours like I might burst into tears at any moment. Kind of like that soggy, rainy day feeling, except it’s right behind your eyes?

Also, it’s true that with this latest job that I can officially call myself a freelance writer. Which is awesome and amazing and I feel like it can only lead to bigger and better things, however long that takes. It will happen. BUT, one shadow that I recognize in all of this (i.e. all 3 current jobs) is that there’s little measure of how you are actually doing. Do they like you? Will they keep you? If they are thinking of letting you go, would they say? Feedback is limited, you take what you can get, and then make up the rest yourself. Which to some extent I realize is the case with everything you do in life, but it feels much more precarious with the things you’ve made to matter a lot. And so then you tell yourself: just forge ahead, and whatever is meant to happen, will. And you’re goodenough, smartenough, etc. But you know they are just words, the ones you need to make you move forward, the ones that would do little good if it all fell through.

Oh: random side note! We discussed, of all thing, long-leaf pines in church (class) today. As part of the new series, which is the environment as a spiritual issue, we talked about those species that are unique to our area. And there you go. Did you know that they are able to survive low-lying fires? And as a crop, not the greatest, as they are completely unpredictable in their timeline of growth. And they are present all along the Southern coast, down to Texas. So maybe there are some answers for you regarding these un-beachy trees. Also, the Venus fly trap and other pitcher plants are endemic to our area (within a 100-mile radius), which is pretty freaking cool, too. So despite all the blah—at least there is still that idea of loving where you live.

p

Dear Penelope,

The girl had taken notes about last year and were tucked in a todo to tell you about. i'll let the list lend an investigative thread and you can ask me later what you want to know more about.

The last year in review:
-Climb volcano, zipline,waterraft, come back from the mountaintop
-Lost job immediately after
-Rash of unfortunate tickets
-I visit Penelope
2/22 ?
-Mexico
-Print out emails.
3/7 "most days i feel God has put me here, other days I feel imprisoned, a glorious captivity but nonetheless."
3/27 "today,i" posts begin for a month
4/13 documenting my life freak out, too much.
-human bondage quote on relationships and artists and money
-danica outings (villa,downtown,moca,lacma,balboa,siagon,japgarden)
-hikes callie,brigid,kerry (out into nature)
-poppies
5/13-letter to self
5/26 the penelope letters
*stopped creative writing
5/18 G4network
6/09 Art department and Scully (priceless)
*knee has had it
7/7 muriel
-wheat allergies
-spiritual healing from the church
-my intention set "i want to be free"
-6th grade teacher finds me on FB as well as my first BF lori
-Back to my 15min miles
-July to August: visions and the letters
8/21 biola for a spiritual formation degree?
-ministry of friendship
9/3 Chicago (jerami,uvula,misty and cath)
-swim a mile
-no running,no jogging, knee is still not having it
-wedding bouquets
10/20
*lists fail me
10/29 upper rooms?
11/14 "slings and arrows"
12/4 catch flu
-start acupuncture
---
possible resolutions (or at least thats what i infer it means. surrounded by a box with the words "to do" and an arrow:

less corn
less white rice
more greens
more fish
less sugar
-
24lbs?
acupuncture
swim
....

all right i'm off to slather cocoa n'shea butter oil on my dried out skin, not shave, and mostly dress for the day. there is nothing particular to do but hangoutwithamber, undo and redo a necklace, wait for the last of the storms before a respite of sunshine and pray for an hour. it is not as easy as it would seem.

Dear Penelope,

Oh where have I been and where have I gone. What is laid waste behind me.

m,

I gave the fish too much love, apparently. To address mortality rates, I began at some point feeding them twice a day, instead of once, and it must have been as a result of the extra food and waste and phosphorus in the tank that we now have slime algae. The spinach stuff that comes off in sheets? I had to remove it by hand today, which was mildly gross, but not uninteresting. And then apparently I am to starve the little creatures (feed one time daily) and change the water more frequently, until all the slime is gone.

Want to watch “Idol” at the moment, even though I’m not a fan. But the DVR is preoccupied recording two other shows. And for some reason the silence is unwelcome. Whereas, later in the evening, I will want it quiet.

Currently becoming an organized machine with the help of OneNote, which is a like a personal tabbed organizer, except it’s on your computer. Instead of 7 different notebooks, post-its, etc., half of which are crayon-scribbled on and/or losing pages, all over your house. Oh and the copying and pasting of pictures, like say of a book you want to read, into OneNote? Joyful.

Sunday I decided to go to the adult education class at church while K.Lo and N.Lo were off doing their thing, in Sunday School and the nursery, respectively. And no one batted an eye, so I guess it’s okay to go. Although I still have no idea what to do with myself between the end of class and the beginning of service, so I end up wandering around and fielding curious stares and questions about my status: New here? Student? Kids—but where’s the husband? Sigh. Anyway, it’s becoming a routine and a groove, Sunday is, but 9:30 – 12:30 with no food save for a few cookies… I’m just saying. Should I squirrel away nuts in my pocket?

Oh, and the class content! happened to be stewardship toward the earth, which is in its beginning phases, as a project. Like could/should it be considered a spiritual issue? I feel like maybe yes.

And my reasons for super-organization at this juncture: completely necessary to keep my brain from exploding. With the 3 little paying jobs, and the 24/7 non-paying job. And all the other stuff in-between. Not that super-organized isn’t part of my nature, but I feel like I took a definitive break post-grad school, or maybe even in grad school, like I was suffering burnout from the mere concept of structuring one’s day. 

Which for you means that I may have ideas about what our days will look like in March. For your visit. Your visit!!!!!

xo,

pen

m,

New experiment: seeing the world in shades of gray. I’ve been working on it for a little while. It works better if you don’t try so hard. Like anything else. The point is to classify *stuff* (ideas, events, actions, truth? people? etc.) in your mind as what they are, which let’sbehonest is usually somewhere in the middle. Neither black nor white. The trouble with black and white is that it involves judgment, and a lot of times in a judgy mind like my own, that judgment falls back on oneself. Which can keep one in check but can also demoralize. Or paralyze. I’m speaking in very abstract terms, but I hope you can see sort of what I am saying.

In conjunction, another idea has dawned. The fact that I (we all) have lots of baskets. For proverbial eggs. Maybe it was the new blogging job (eee! still tap-dancing) that made me see it, but it takes a lot of pressure off to know that if, in fact, one area of life happens at any given moment to be shit, that it’s not all of life. There’s other good stuff. I see the good stuff a lot of times, but don’t really *see* it. Not enough to stop the shit part of life from dragging me down. All the other baskets are buoys. They don’t cancel out the black and keep you from addressing it, but they lift you up out of the muck. One day maybe I’ve done a shit job as Manager, but hey, I wrote something really great. Or was a good wife or friend. Or a smart shopper. Or all of those. There are always other things. The contents of one or a few baskets could be black and others white (and they are always changing), but together the collection is shades of gray.

yours as ever,

pen

Penolin,

This is my moms fish. I'm sending it to Misty and her new babe. Thanks mom! I revel in its patent awesomeness. I want to keep it.
Here you will see the pillow obsession that trumped all other list projects, and what led me down that dark road of 2 joann's visits and forgetting callie at the airport and working on these for 2 days straight with the knowledge that I wouldn't be using them until... next year? wtf. my only question is whether to let one of the seems out on the nativity pillow and make the pillows a plump 20" or keep them at 18"- it is quite the extravegant border. But i thought i'd go all out as these are my first pillows ever. I tried quilting the toile but then thought better of it, esp as i was like, let me outline all the trees... sigh, nevermind. There went like 2 hours of my life but then after all the end result is pretty fantastic- fancy or non fancy as it might be. I have advent pillows!

Ah pillows. Anyway, last week i saw cath and i almost got ran off the road by a land rover just as i was about to pull off the freeway for gas. I looked, i went to move right and suddenly there was this landrover blarring at me. I moved back, missing the exit and so did she! Beeatch! What was she doing there! Apparently not exiting, just steering me along the course that was my destiny. So then I thought surely at the next exit there will be a gas station. Not for 4 miles in any direction, just a wasteland of shopping and sterile corporate landscaping. So then I thought, well, we'll keep going and eventually we'll see a sign. Oh not so. We hit a tollroad. The 73. I guess I don't feel too bad contributing $5, yes FIVE, dollars to the infrastructure awesomeness that is the OC but man, I was trapped and there was no where else to go. I asked the toll lady who was quite nice where the nearest one was, she said if you can make it 8miles to the 5 it'd be better. I said, I didn't think I could. She said, ok but then you have to get back on the toll. Dammit. No. Anyway, so she says, the 4th exit, turn left, there's a gas station there. We go another harrowing 4 miles at least, a long way down a street and finally as we hit a turn we see it tucked away. Damned OC people and their hidden facilities. My Lolly took 20 gallons. She only ever takes 18. I think I could've made it to the 5 maybe? But the mental tension. It was too much. We then persevered to have a lovely time at San Juan Capistrano. I don't know how we ended up there, but suddenly cath felt there was no time to hike and I convinced her we should go. Strangely I don't know how I end up there, every year or so it pulls me in it seems.

So the only other thing, and then really I need to go outside and accomplish an uber gardening list is this prime rib o' awesomeness. Best advent meal ever. It almost makes me swoon. That first cut with a little fat, crispy, seasoned, juicy meat. Oh my goodness so GOOD. This is my favorite right before skirt steak and ribeye. Damned deliciousness. Mom is so good to me to buy it and cook it. Ok, no seriously, I have to go. Stop talking to me.

Dear Penelope,

I totally did go to the roseparade. Sat comfortably in a lawn chair about 10ft from the curb at mile 5. And it was a good sort of lowkey notsofancy thing as much as it seems more. After all its just a small town affair. As staci pointed out by the end of the parade all the veneer is gone, floats have broken down for good and are being towed, one of the giraffe necks on the humor float refused to work and was broken in the down position, the ship float refused to sail, jack from jacknthebox didn't reappear as we saw him from down the way, the skateboard dog was tired and going to take a nap, the tuba player that looked really peeked collapsed not 100ft from the finish line and the marching bands went around the support vehicle loading the tuba, we could see which schools didn't train, weren't really ready. You could see in passing vehicles who didn't make it. And the flag girls dragging their flags. We cheered for all the cleaning crews picking up horse poo and of course we stood and applauded the veterans, and the heros and the olympians. I might have even choked back sentiment at one point. It was star-studded this year. Of course Jack Hannah was my personal favorite and he was on my side of the float and Jackie Chan. For our enthusiasm we were thrown a couple of roses from various hot guys in cowboy hats and there was a particularly attractive fireman on one of the floats. I may have said Yummy, loud enough to be heard by the guy in front of me, but i just explained i was hungry, and you know, and those poor haggard float people need to hear our cheers and jumps of glee even on the 5mile mark.

New Years Eve I went to bed at 10. I did not go to game night and I woke up around 8am thinking I wasn't going to make it to Joanna's house in time but then i thought, well she is moving to New York, I will never have another friend a block from the parade route again... if you look at the group pic, the two dudes surprised in front of us were part of a group of guys who do guy things like camping out for days and guarding their grass spot. It started back in November as they floured the space divisions on the meredian, then became a vigil nights prior, which is held every year by Joanna's neighbor. We even met the woman who had lived in J's house previous.

So by the end the sun is blazing in the low 80's we're sure and we're thinking how many more floats? I'm thanking God my base layer was a tanktop. And julie is complaining that i'm invading her personal space because our armchairs are too close, constantly. I start yelling louder and louder for everyone that passes- good job band guy! hang in there dancing girl! pretty horses! i love clydesdales! i get a couple phonecalls just as the cymbals start clambering and the drums are drumming. Woo hoo! Go! Dancers Go!

I made it home after a walk around BalboaParkLake and some take out from Wendys. A fire was blazing in the place, i cut out fabric squares for pillows and was very opininated about Sarahs dress, who stayed to help usher in a pretty relaxed and lovely end to the day. We watched District9 and UP! and called it a day... Cathy says i get like a billion points for being early morning social- and said, that whatever I did on NewYears Day was indicative of what I would be doing for the year- so to sum up lets see: showing up for friends, annoying people, being enthusiastic, hauling items in lolly for notruckfriends, doing random things, getting into nature, exclaiming: I love geese!, watching too many movies, staying up late, doing craft projects, trying new things like tasty acornsquashseeds, getting gifts, eating chocolate, having fastfood, and possibly a little fruit and vegetable in there somewhere, drinking tea and hot cocoa, and mimosas... my my its going to be quite a year.

Tomorrow I totally promise to in some way encapsulate '09. I made a list and notes and everything. Today its more pillows, glitter candles and sunshine.
xo, m.

m…

Happy New Year! Did you really go to the RB Parade today? We decided that as far as broadcasts go, Al Roker is a harmless commentator, but HGTV does much better, refraining from wisecracks. I’m just saying.

Currently avoiding what I told myself I’d do tonight, which is bring down some boxes and begin to de-Christmas. Eh. It will get done this weekend regardless. Am tired. It’s Friday night, too.

Annoyed realizing that though I put in time sheet last week—granted on Dec 23, for admin work, still have not yet received payment. It’s a pesky, mundane little detail, but I mean honestly. Pet peeve alert. I should *not* have to ask twice. Which I just did, via email. I want that shit hand-delivered at this point. The end.

Watched “Adventureland” tonight, which I really loved. The lead had a Michael Cera vibe, and I’m happy to see KS can act outside of “Twilight.” The rumors are apparently true. Favorite line was something along the lines of… I’ve been working doubles, and can’t figure out why my paychecks are so small. In response: Well, we are doing the work of lazy, incompetent idiots.

Or something like that.

…Mind abruptly blank. Sleep calls. I feel like this letter may have been mostly pointless, but will you water my Farmtown flowers?

Talk soon,

pen