Welcome!

Sometimes I look at a piece of spam because I’m not sure yet that it is spam. This one, was a message with no subject line, from Nobody, which seemed spammy, but which could have equally been from one unsavvy. It was spam, but it also contained these questions:

Why do you believe that gardeners make obscene gestures at children? Why do people think that guys named “Pete” collect the souls of senators? Your vegetables daydream of bears. To get the conservative vote, President Bush announced that the lions, tigers, and bears are essentially Amway distributors.
Stamp collectors fall in love with creationists. Morons live next door to hot dog vendors! Who will believe Paula Jones now that she’s claiming Cray users secretly admire cheeseburgers? Imbeciles deny that the PH.D. candidates enjoy the company of queen bees.

My favorite 5-year old friend visited today. It’s our first solo sleepover, and since he’s fast asleep, I think it was successful. There’s always the morning, but I think the real test was going to sleep in a strange place without his mother. I’m not sure he’s ever had a sleepover with a non-family member. I drove up to the mountains to pick him up, at the very glamorous location of the back of a Kmart, and we drove down to LA. We stopped on the way at a chain Mexican restaurant recommended by IGR’s lama’s wife. Turns out that Sharkey’s Mexican Grill is a solid source for organic rice and beans, etc. Who knew? Then we went to the Natural History Museum. The living bugs were a big hit. He thought some of the fossils were the best things ever. And we both loved looking at the minerals and crystals and seeing how they were turned into gems. As a side note, I’ve never really craved that kind of rock before, but… Then Thai for dinner, a turn on the swing, bath (largely to make sure there weren’t any lingering creepy crawlies from the trek to the swing), one story from the book, a “chapter” of the ongoing saga of the little boy and his dog (a runaway survivalist narrative that I started up this summer and which seems to have legs). And he’s out, and I’m up. But not for long.

The house hunt is going poorly, or perhaps ok, I’m really not sure. I can’t really fathom that I’m living here. I just came out for the summer. I thought if I stayed in New York I would do something dangerous, but now it seems as though going back would be even crazier. And I have a certain amount of calm and clarity here. Not really along the lines of big changes, but more along the lines of the breathing room to feel that making the big changes is possible. The program is good here. I haven’t made any friends, but I have a sense that I can find faith and purpose. I never felt that in NYC. It was all head and no heart. Maybe that was just where I was, but it kind of doesn’t matter. I’ve done more work here in the past 2 months then in the last few years.

But the house hunting is really that. I think I want to live in a house. That’s one of the main reasons I wanted to be here this summer. I wanted to live in a house. And I am. I don’t know if owning one would be any easier here, but I can find one to live in. Sharing of course, but somehow that doesn’t bother me that much. I was offered a two-bedroom apartment for under $1000, but aside from some problems, and a year long lease, it made me realize that I want something specific if I’m going to be here. I want what I can’t have in New York.

That said, I don’t know how long I can be here.

I’ve become terribly tearful over the last few days. Just really emotional and edgy. Unsure. Not the best thing for looking for a place to live, even with these month to month deals. My faith in myself comes and goes. Can I make a living without having a jobby job? Can I make friends? Can I make the changes in myself that need to be made, that desperately need to be made? I’m worried about building walls, about becoming too stalwart, too self-sufficient again. I want someone to have my back. But since there really isn’t anyone, not really, I have to find a way of taking care of myself that’s not fear-based.

My old friend depression made a minor appearance today. Very scary. Just a taste. Just a little dip. That feeling of it all being too much.

I’ve spent so many years, so much time, trying to figure out what it is that I want. I think the question I’ve been asking is wrong. I think it may be time to ask what my purpose is, how I can be of service. It’s time for faith. I need to feel that there is a reason for my being alive, that it matters somehow. I need to believe that even if things aren’t going my way, if everything looks bleak from my perspective, that there is another perspective, and that somehow things are exactly right. I need to have a sense of a path. I’ve always thought that was too much to ask, that I had to make my own road, but it’s not too much. I’m worthy of a path. We all are.

I’m not ready to say I’m living here, so I’m looking for another temporary place. I just came for the summer, it feels like I’m just staying here, rather than living here. Maybe when I get more of a life (and it wouldn’t take much to beat the one I had in NYC), I’ll feel like I’m living here. But meanwhile I’m sending out emails and making calls and seeing places and nothing is really right. I think something could be right, I don’t think I’ve got impossible standards, but I haven’t seen it yet. I guess at some point I might have to take something that isn’t really it, just so I have a place to live, but I don’t think I’ve gotten to that place yet.

I’m not that tough. I don’t want to be Bonnie to anyone’s Clyde. I just want someone who can love the pilgrim soul in me.

I had a wretched experience at the swimsuit store today. Bright lights. Kill me now.

I spent the day out at the horse show. EW was riding, her brother, his friend and I were along for the ride. As far as that kind of thing went, it was pretty low key. But there were fancy cars and fancy horses. When I think about riding these days, I want to be on the trail. I want to be going places you can only go on a horse, like into the past. This is a whole different thing. And as ridiculously expensive as it is, what’s nice is that everyone involved seems really into it. They are really into the horses, and into riding. I thought it would be a day of reading and doing the x-word, but I actually found myself paying attention. And feeling ok. Then we all went to an Indian restaurant. One of those total LA places–the front was on a deserted part of a crummy road, the facade was broken fencing and a couple of old notices, but inside was totally warm and friendly and yummy. Sometimes I like the stark contrast. But most of the time I think would it kill people to make the public part as lovely as the private?

From what I can tell, the whole east side of Los Angeles smells of skunk tonight. The animal, not the weed. It’s kind of nice. Reminds me of when I found out, last winter, that the smell I was smelling all over London was fox, and not mary jane. I like the idea of the impurity of urban space. Except when the impurity is rats or cockroaches. I don’t mind living with spiders (once I’m sure they’re not black widows or brown recluses) and skunks.

I’m apartment hunting. No matter where I wind up next, I have to have a place to put my stuff. It feels ok not to have a real home for a while, but it’s making me a little anxious that I haven’t found anywhere just to live comfortably for a month or two after I have to leave this place. Reminds me of how alone I am. How few resources I have. But once I find a place it will be that much better.

I’ve been thinking alot about faith. I’ve tried to live as tho I have faith, and to cultivate faith, but I’ve never really crossed the line over to being a believer. I did some formal work years ago in that area, and within weeks my best friend died and my boyfriend began to go horribly crazy. It only occurred to me recently that I never really recovered the faith that I lost then. When my mother was dying, she asked Paige to take care of me. Most of the time Paige was completely incapable of even taking care of herself, but she would always tell me that things would be ok, that things would work out, would get better, that life would one day be glorious. And I believed her. When she died, there was really no one else to tell me those things. I can tell others, but not myself. Sometimes I just want to be told that everything is going to be all right. I just want to believe.

The hill across from the porch was filled with mourning doves this afternoon. At first there was just one pair, then more and more. So sweet and so beautiful. Cooing. Their call sounds so sad to us–hence the mourning I suppose–but I imagine it means something else entirely to them. Maybe I’m just projecting contentment onto them because of their paired existence. How bad could it be?

The sister of a very dear person in my life is going through some major health issues. It’s very difficult and sad, and often the worst part seems to be the uncertainty. What is giving me faith at the moment are the James Herriot books. You know, the vet. Most of the books take place in an age before antibiotics and steriods, and most of the time the most sophisticated thing he did was boil the knife before surgery. And yet the animals recovered. They recovered from broken bones, infections, cancer, and various mysterious disorders. Sometimes Herriot knew why and sometimes he had no idea.

On another note, I joined the library today. They didn’t care that I only had a PO box as an address and a NY driver’s license. They were happy to hand me a card. I love libraries. And this one was super nice–very modern, but with lots of local and personal touches.

I have a terrible sadness tonight. The person I love most is hurting, and there’s nothing I can do to take his pain away. I have never been able to provide the support and comfort he deserves. I guess the best service I can do is to disappear.

I’m in exile here in LA. I think I can make it work. There’s a softness here. I don’t expect as much. It’s not where I would have chosen to be, but it is perhaps where I belong. On the edge of America. The last stop.

But I think the future, if I have a future, might be Canada. I can’t see myself growing old alone in the states. The Golden Girls never really talked about money, but I have a feeling they weren’t living on social security. My future is totally insecure. I need some security. Faith is all well and good, but so is a national health plan.

My NY Cobra doesn’t really work out here–Oxford isn’t really national. So I’m looking into other options.

I’m a newcomer. Scared shitless. I’m finally asking for help. I’ve never felt I deserved it before. I thought if I could get by without it then others needed it more. As though love and support were only available in finite quantities.

There’s a wedding in September. I’ve been to so many weddings alone. Horrible. Last year I didn’t go to a wedding because I couldn’t bear to go alone. I think I lost a friend because I couldn’t show up, but I thought I might cry the wrong kind of tears and not be able to stop. But I don’t think I can go to England. I want to see Amber and Gordon and Maisie and Beatie, but I don’t think I can be around anyone else’s kids right now. Cuts too deep. I always thought I would be a good mother, a good partner. I’ve been so wrong.

There are many amazing things about Amir, and everyone that knows me has heard about them again and again. One of the most unusual, which tends to go unmentioned, is that if you look closely, you can usually find glitter on his face or body. Where it comes from is a mystery–I believe he just generates it, one piece at a time, to share and enjoy.

I’m excited about having proper b-cards. I wish I had some design chops. I’d love to go to design school, or at least take some classes. I feel so very chop-less.

I’m enjoying being neat and organized. I’ve been putting things away. I finally went through most of the papers that I brought out here and that had arrived since. Most everything is squared away. Now I just have to decide if I’m staying. Love is the only reason not to stay. Love is the only reason to do most anything.