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.