and but so

I feel like there are multiple facets of knowing a person, maybe the chronos and kairos of a person, if you will. So even if you’re not completely, vigilantly up on the chronos, or day-to-day (which completely DOES have value, and I love fiercely that you’ve always demanded these details), there is also the kairos. the essence of a person that you know, in spite of those daily shiftings and emergings. and despite all chronos you’ll immediately recognize the kairos after however long apart.

You are MY shiny object. Other than you not being an object and the fact that I don’t really own you. Not really. But you know what I mean. Mine! Shiny! If I were the type to ever talk AT someone until their face fell off, you’d surely be the subject. And that means something, yo.

I feel like I’d struggle but ultimately would hold off on the slaying of words since she IS leaving soon and why leave sour. Her chronos is annoying the shit out of you, but I know her kairos held something.

Yay for the foreign curmudgeons! Like Viktor on ProRun, who I kind of love. Also, accents add something, like the curmudgeonliness is all the more appealing in its delivery. I adore the “things keep getting stranger” comment. And your student scenes, even if it feels like they’re being all unnoteworthy.

You’ve asked me before what I see for the end of your term-sentence, and I do see that obviously you’ll be home after the year, but for the return? I see a changed locale. Even if it’s mainland, but maybe it would be another country in SEA…

Am so sleepy today, could have slept even longer than the 8 or 9 hours I fell into magically last night. I feel slightly cold-ish, like maybe I picked up errant germs at the store or the consignment sale or something. Because no one else has brought it home to me. Book club was a delight as usual, with just three of this time and we spent maybe half and hour mentioning the book almost as an aside. Maybe because we all liked it. And there were no official discussion questions. And we were discussing other things, like children and schools and loose teeth (K.Lo has FOUR allatonce) our geeky pasts (presents?) and oh maybe some church politics. And the dynamic between the women who have been there all their lives and those of us who have chosen to be there, now. Mainly how they don’t talk to us and what is that all about. Is it their financial status or the fact of their comfort zone or maybe they’re just a-holes...? Just pondering out loud. Clearly there hasn’t been a need to expand their worlds beyond what they know. And it’s interesting – of course I’m completely projecting – that it ultimately ends up seeming the difference between having a static faith and a dynamic one. Actively seeking vs. sitting still and being perfectly fine with what is. never stretching beyond. I don’t think I’ve ever in my whole life fallen into static. Like it’s not even in my dna.

More chronos: shutter painting is happening soon. (shutters: black; door: teal.) Ice maker/water dispenser FIXED because of a penelope produced solution, after more than a year and a half I’m just saying. Point, penelope. Gloating, penelope… Potluck dinner at friends’ house tonight (same locale as bookclub), which frankly I’m hoping doesn’t last that long, although I realize I’m baiting Condescending Wonka to mock me and my pretend cold and my wearying introvert. And I want to upload some photo addendums. But then my phone isn’t saving them like it’s supposed to. Which is vexing. But I’ll see if I can figure that out.

love to YOU

penelope

P.S. the literal “fall” in the backyard, the gumball or acorn demonstration of gravity on the metal roof has evolved into a game of Kerplunk, louder, more echoey and insistent as imaginary sticks are removed. someone’s about to lose! anyway j.lo’s going to investigate this weekend what exactly it is that’s falling from the tree (and why this year but not last?). my money at this point’s on marbles.

When we were,

young.

We understood the value of detail like acorns or gumballs dropping on tin roofs. Magical. As the detail now goes out beyond us, to a memory of that one time on that one particular day in an approaching fall.We saw things and we communicated them with a breadth that would shock us now of what it was to describe the infuriating nature of salt build up on windows and how mildew almost destroyed a fragile pile of memories that rose up in conflicting bites of savory and sweet and bitter. I just found some on my bowling shoes. Not sure what to do about it. At least we did all that work before hand and the roots while sometimes i think they must be shallow are actually really deep. Not that our friendship is dying off, but that it's spread beyond is such a lovely thing. A canopy. A network I wish would outlive us. Is that my sole reason to want kids? Maybe.

But long distance is hard right? Let's get back to that. We seem close. Maybe just nextdoor away. But that's only because I can picture what you're putting on your eggs right now as i cook mine. We spent a couple years perfecting Chi-NC, We spent even more years managing NC to LA- for better and worse and less blogging and now KOR. what do we have if we don't have letters? or emails? or postcards? Especially if the details are lost. If we don't push ourselves to share them... because that's when we see the fragility and the strain and the sudden forgetfulness of really important things. Not just vacations, but shifts, across continents of what shapes us.  Of course we won't let that happen. I'm too neurotic. You're too sensitive. But we can see how suddenly our knowing of one another can in an instant cease to be.

But revisiting always brings about discovery and familiarity. And I love that. Anyway, you'll be spared from more meandering philisophic since i'm itching to just sit and stare into space and perhaps write a postcard or two as i nurse the last of my large iced latte in the atmosphere of the idyllic inbetween of approaching fall and reminents of summer as a Kpop soundtrack plays over head and the wind rustles a plant that looks like it is either dying from lack of water or is still traumatized from typhoon sanba. (Matt says he survived a typhoon but he was really only out and about in a tropical depression... I hope this lovely weather lasts through his coming too. Yesterday morning his mom emailed me and asked if i'd heard from him and i hadn't in the last week. I wasn't too worried but I was prepared to do some calling if I had to but he surfaced not 6minutes before I came home to check on his itinerary. Ah international traveling.)

And me, this sunday will mark my official 9months/36wks out. 19wks/4 months left.
I am wearing an emily shirt (an eddie bauer red and white pinstriped cotton longsleeved thing and black workout pants- luckily with working elastic) and flipflops. my toenails are hot pink. and i'm wearing my grandfathers wedding ring on my right hand. The layering in my hair is growing out pretty fantastically and i'm determined to do (unrelated to hair) more ab exercises to help strengthen my lower back... and volleyball this weekend... and who knows what else. good food i hope. and sitting by the shore.

Sending my love in your direction,
xo
m.