Let It Snow

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My fingers are pink and numb, my nose tulipy red: I’ve just come back from prancing around in the snow, making snow angels, kicking up powdery light snowdust. Our boots sunk three inches deep. Light mound of snow layered the field, coated every surface, nook and crevice like frosting (Ah, Frosty!)

The snow was too fine for snowmen or snowballs, so we resorted to dragging our boots through the snow, windmilling bodies into snow angels, tossing handfuls of snow. “Snow, please,” I’d say, since I’d forgotten to wear mittens. Then a sprinkle-shower of snow would scatter over our heads.

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wya

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Of all the relationships in my life, the “wya”–where you at?–relationships are my absolute favorites. wya. Out of work, let’s get dinner? wya. Just got lunch, headed back home. wya. About to run errands, come with? wya. Near Starbucks, join.

Simple blue whale-tailed bubble, three lower-cased words, demarcation of easy closeness, comfort candidness. It conveys the message that: being with you is as it is being by myself.  And: I like you enough; I don’t have to try around you.

With most people, you have to make plans. Peer at your calendar, set a date, time, and place. Do this all days in advance. It’s a delicate social dance. Some people are, well, more of a headache to make plans with; it feels obligatory or it’s a back-and-forth game of swerve! or, whatever it is, just feels like work. A lot of people are at the in-between, where they’re still plugged into the schedule, it’s not too difficult to spend time with them, but it’s not as easy as, you know, the wya relationships.

For just a few people in the world, and there don’t have to be many, I can shoot out a quick wya test–no plans, no pretense. There’s a quote that goes, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude. Hints at romance, but it doesn’t have to be. I’d say that these wya relationships are just as sweet as, if not more than, solitude.

3AM Toast

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There are few things in the world as cathartic as 6-hour long conversations with good friends.

So here’s to a sense of identity, to men who shoot down the moon because their beloved drank from vials of morality. To figuring out what it is that imprisons us—the future? loci of control? the internalization of social pressures? To values and meaning, valuing meaning.

Here’s to dreaming of one day becoming the security guard who stands on his bike at 1 in the morning as he glides down the bridge.

“What are you doing?”

“Figuring out what imprisons us.”

(and other things unsaid)

Here’s to finding yourself and the right words.

Reading Rumi

Lately, I’ve been reading love Mad Poems of Rumi. Ever since my English teacher said Rumi was a whirling Dervish who spat his poems stream-of-consciousness to followers who then hastily jot them down–well, I’ve had a hard time getting the imagery of a twirling man (arms spread, seized by love and/of language) out of my head. In these poems, he is consumed by love. Then I wonder if Rumi believed in soul mates and if he thought Shams was his.

Attitude of Gratitude

“Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.” – Eckhart Tolle

It’s been a minute since I’ve sat down and counted my blessings, been actively grateful for what I have in life. Ironically, I’ll do this sort of thing when I’m at my lowest. So it’ll be in fits of sadness or confusion or negative what-have-you’s that I’ll write out the things that make me happiest. Projects I’ve embarked on in the past three years: three good thing that happened today and why; 100 happy days; list of reasons to be happy, stuff like that. But when I am cruising on happiness and genuinely content, as I am now, and as I have been, I’ll do everything but. 

The daily quote by Tolle on Momentum, a Chrome installation, reminds me otherwise. So, in the spirit of acknowledging the good, and not just when it’s bad, here are 10 things that in my life that, well, bring me happiness. Or at the very least, that I am grateful for. Continue reading

Indie Throwback Playlist

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The kind you might drunkenly sing at the top of your lungs in the middle of the night post-Comedy house laughs, boozy Oreo milkshakes and whirring pinball games that you win by, oh, thirty million points.

  1. Someday, The Strokes
  2. Take Me Out, Franz Ferdinand
  3. Young Folks, Peter Bjorn and John
  4. Riptide, Vance Joy
  5. Where Did Your Heart Go Missing?, Rooney
  6. Midnight City, M83
  7. Ho Hey, The Lumineers
  8. Tighten Up, The Black Keys
  9. I Wanna Be Yours, Arctic Monkeys
  10.  A-Punk, Vampire Weekend
  11. Oxford Comma, Vampire Weekend
  12. Float On, Modest Mouse
  13. Mardy Bum, Arctic Monkeys
  14. What You Know, Two Door Cinema Club
  15. Stolen Dance, Milky Dance
  16. Are You Gonna Be My Girl, Jet
  17. Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked, Cage The Elephant
  18. No You Girls, Franz Ferdinand
  19. Sweet Disposition, The Temper Trap
  20. Welcome to the Black Parade, My Chemical Romance

(Honestly I’m so happy right now my heart might just explode.)

Solar Eclipse

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Shadows, passing moon, a darkening sky. Even though it’s ten degrees cooler my dress is sticky with sweat. I’m holding up a bright yellow Cheerios box that reflects the sky since I didn’t order solar eclipse glasses in time (you can’t see it with the naked eye–you’ll go blind). When I look inside the box, I see a little orb of whitish blinding sun glaring at me from the back of box; I see a black dot, the Moon! inching across the orb.

The Solar Eclipse: when the homewrecking Moon passes between Sun and Earth.

Some parts of the country saw the solar eclipse in its totality. Others, only partially. If you google solar eclipse, you’ll find a ringlet-of-fire-looking thing–the sun’s corona–staring back at you the way it did in my textbooks. That’s what the people in its path today saw. Alas, I didn’t, not in its entirety. Taken from the small cut-out opening, this picture shows the blurry partial eclipse seen from my location. The sun looks, ironically, like a little moon where the moon passes over.

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Like seeing science in the flesh. I remember the first time I peered into the telescope to see a massive spotty Jupiter staring right back. I experienced less an epiphany than I did surprise: I knew the planets were there, but they’d always been more…conceptual to me. Science had always been removed by textbooks, grades, illustrations to recreate. Earth was a plastic globe spinning on my pre-k teacher’s desk–according to her, it rotated constantly, and I imagined it spun on its own at night. In physics, in astro, I memorized definitions, calculated coordinates, listened to songs about stars in the sky, but I didn’t always get it, just regurgitated for the grade.

But for a moment, today, I got it. The sheer coolness of solar eclipse wasn’t so much about it being the first in several years (there’ll be another in 2024), or the well-publicized hype. It was more of a small a-ha moment, when things clicked in my head, when textbook definition met astro illustration met real life demonstration. Like in the fourth grade when I watched vinegar and baking soda bubble volcano-ey; like in sophomore Chemistry when my teacher said, “there’s no such thing as cold, only the absence of heat”. Like the moment I understood that basics and acids, when combined, neutralize to create salt and water. Quirky instances of science that, at some point, sunk in beyond the understanding-for-a-grade level.

And today it sunk in–the light-spitting corona; a massive crater-riddled Moon. Us, wee little people, pointing paper glasses towards the sky, oohing and aahing on a (carbon) coughing-sputtering earth.