Columbia Haiku

The last steps to home:
A new place to rest my head
And old, true, close friends.




The everyday-ness of love in my life right now is a bit overwhelming, and definitely not something I've experienced in this capital city before. But as I prepare for a bit of reading this Tuesday night, I feel full. For the first time in a long time.

ps- I thought of writing an ode. But odes are lonnnng. Haikus are much better for my about-to-go-to-sleep, writing-on-a-whim style. 5-7-5 and done. Woot.

"A loose interpretation of work"*

After a little too much recent web browsing, I stumbled upon this funny nugget. My personal favorite is the entire text of George Orwell's "Animal Farm" disguised as an ad agency's power point. Geeeenius.

(Now, obbbviously, I would never dream of doing this at work. But it is certainly original and if you find yourself in a mind-numbingly boring job with a computer monitor that faces office traffic, it may be just the stimulation your intellect needs to survive until 5:00.)

Also, the lovely Skirt! Morning Muse directed me to the 'advice to sink in slowly' site. I love all these quirky posters created by recent graduates with words of wisdom for first year students. If you're the gift buying sort, I need nothing more than the postcard pack wrapped in a big blue bow. And it's only 6 quid!



What will you be doing with all your extra light on this solstice day?

*Andy Warhol

There is only one man in the world allowed to take care of me.

I have a pretty good track record with males in my life. And I think my luck, or good judge of character, can be traced back to the very first male in my life- my father. This is a man who laughed instead of getting angry when my brother and I accidentally set the toaster on fire. A funny man with leathery skin that smelled like summer after he would mow our lawn. A man who taught me to make the gooiest grilled cheese sandwiches, the value of working hard, and the art of asking for help. Financial adviser, roadside assistance operator, and giver of honest hugs.

I was able to be home on the day we are told to honor and recognize all the father figures in our lives. We celebrated with church, a trip to Best Buy (how cliché) and arguing over who would fill my car with gas (I lost...surprise surprise. I'm a spoiled girl, but at least I know I'm spoiled, right?)

I was also home long enough to scrounge up these gems of us in all our 80s glory.

Weekend Lessons

Summertime is here, and that means great live music in abundance. Sadly though, almost all of these shows require a bit of travel, and travel requires tanks of extremely pricey gas. So even though one of my favorite bands was playing at one of my favorite venues this weekend, I opted to play it cheap and find adventures here in town.

I finally visited the local art museum, and while the flashy Egyptian exhibit was impressive, I was drawn mostly to two smaller galleries upstairs. One displayed the amazing photographs from Constantine Manos' book, "A Greek Portfolio." The other was a small collection of etchings by Alfred Hutty depicting Charleston and various lowcountry beauty. Hutty arrived in Charleston in 1919 and immediately sent his wife the message, "Come Quickly. Have Found Heaven." Oh Al. I know exactly how you feel.

In addition to the museum, I fought off the triple-digit heat by lounging in the pool, hopping from one air conditioned boutique to another, and grabbing gigantic iced mochas from Adriana's. I also realized that Publix commercials will make me tear up for the rest of my life (have you seen the new Father's Day one? I'm such a sap), and that I could probably spend entire Sunday mornings in bed (and probably would if the sun didn't come out).

It was a good weekend. But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to travel for some of the good music happening this summer. Who's with me?

Magicians and motorcyles.

On my way home from work yesterday afternoon, I found myself behind a man riding a motorcycle. He was wearing a fancy suit with a bright green shirt and (are you ready?) a top hat. A tall top hat. My amusement was immediately followed by concern because top hats, while dashing, do not usually function as helmets also. But I concluded that since he was obviously a skilled magician, on his way to pick up his magic scarf/doves, or his rabbit to later be pulled out of the fancy hat, he probably didn't need the protection anyway.

I tried to take a picture as I passed.



















Obviously, my taking-pictures-while-driving skills need vast improvement.

Summer Storms. mmmmmm.

There is the most magnificent thunderstorm happening outside right now. I LOVE thunderstorms. Nothing can really live up to a good storm in the mountains, but this one right now in the middle of this city comes pretty close.

I was supposed to work an outside event tonight, which ended up being canceled, but it gave me the opportunity to witness the energy of the storm gather, to smell the first cool drops hit the dark pavement. I've been frustrated lately with my current music selection, and it seems God responded with heart-shaking thunder and startling cracking lightening. The rain is coming down in sheets and my porch door is open and I can feel the dampness seeping into my bones and it feels right.

What to do with my unexpected two hours off of work?
Blog?...check.
Laundry?....maybe.
Cloud gazing and curling up early with three good books?...definitely.

Remember, God, that we are the plants in your fields
so connected to the
earth

that you know what would happen
if you did not rain
upon us.

St. Teresa of Avila
(who, fyi, was a badass. obviously.)

Will Travel For Hugs.

Let's all pack up and move this year
Slip the liars and disappear
Leave memories for auctioneers
And those just standing still
M.N.

There's something both comforting and tragic about having so many close friends living so very far away. On one hand, if I close my eyes and imagine these friends, it's as if the earth is pulsating with warm, gentle vibes just for me, with epicenters in San Francisco and Copenhagen; Brazil and Colorado; Amsterdam and London and Washington DC and even (on particular Wednesday evenings) WaKeeney, KS. I am a lucky and loved girl.

But when my eyes are wide open and I have a hard day, imagining these love-vibes is not a sufficient replacement for a deep strong hug. And even the magic of skype can't recreate a hearty laugh with an beautiful friend over a few cold beers under a warm starry sky (How's that for a lesson in prepositions?).

I crave physical connections. If I like you at all, on any level, chances are you have endured being hugged, patted, poked, squeezed, punched and generally touched by me. And when a separation happens and you leave or I leave and I'm unable to love/abuse you physically, I feel a little bit disconnected with not only you, but myself. Note to self: become better at phone conversations. And find new people in my geographic region to prod and jab.

It's so exciting to watch how everyone's path is being laid out before them, stone by stone. Or rather, to see which stepping stones we're all choosing. Jobs, marriages, families; it's all so adult of us. Yet most of the time I still feel like a pre-adolescent version of myself, watching from the outside, itching for my adult adventures to begin but secretly being happy that I have some more time to just be a kid.