April 23, 2007
i watched the video for johnny cash's version of "hurt" tonight. the song popped up on my ipod's shuffle, and i thought i'd love to see the gorgeous video again. i wrote a lot about its effect on me in may 2003:
back in nashville, marlei and i sat on the porch tonight with cups of tea. look at the moon, we said. it's convex and close, barely hung by some invisible string just to our left. it grew dark and red with each moment of conversation, covered by clouds sometimes. we had no idea about the eclipse. we had no idea about illumination and shadow as msn headlines, cnn articles. we just saw our moon, and watched it like a holy moment.
two hours later, the world is transfigured. the trees hang heavy with rain, bowing quietly while still peeking up at sky. because the moon has shed its red skin now and is shining white over the yard, a vision so stunning, we all can't help but stare. i stood barefoot under its wet light in the grass a few moments ago. the night is black and white and starry. the air is hazy and sluggish. the crickets, loud. no wind. cigarette smoke and breath linger awhile before dissipating. i stood in the middle of the yard with much trepidation. i let my tears sit on my eyes. i tried to utter prayers aloud but didn't get much past thank you. i thought of june carter cash, and how beautiful a night it is for her family to let her go. i remembered the last lines of johnny cash singing 'hurt': words like a prayer or promise or plea to start again, to keep himself, to find a way.
so many needs. so many shadows. so much light. i don't know how to reconcile it all, but i feel compelled to preach a gospel of moments.
(ah marlei, i really, really miss you, friend.)
so. when june carter cash appears in the frame with johnny, and they both stare out with wise gazes of regret and hope, the tears well up inside me. even here in my cubicle on a monday night. their relationship was a force of nature. bigger than all the mistakes and drama. bigger than bottles and pills. and it's all there in that video. they kept themselves. they found a way.
and trent reznor wrote the most incredible love song ever? for them. he sure did. wow.
i don't have much to say beyond that. i'm just amazed and haunted by june and johnny. i miss them. they make me miss nashville. they make me realize how powerful is the relationship between helen and i.
as my father would say if he read this entry: "child, you are a sap."
April 21, 2007
a beautiful day.
it's a rare saturday when i am at home. i got to take most of the day off...because we were slow, and because i am still recuperating from the virus/sinus infection.
and so i'm sitting on the porch. chloe is at my feet, happily washing herself. helen is out in the front yard making her herb garden. as i write, she is fashioning a border out of all the wine bottles we have saved since last fall.
there are a lot of wine bottles.
the cure is playing on our record player. and i'm enjoying a cup of coffee.
really, now, does it get any better than this?
our lives are in a lot of transition these days, and it's very easy to get caught up in how much is changing in our collective and individual lives. on days like this, however, i watch my love doing her thing in the yard, and exhale a truly happy sigh.
our lives are so good. so complete.
a bananie could not be happier.
happy weekend, folks.
April 17, 2007
sick...and not tired.
i know, i know. it's been very too long since i wrote. there are things i want to say; my brain is brimming with words. but. quietude is good for now.
i will say that a lot has been going on in bananieland. there has been news to report for awhile now, and here is just a bit of it:
1. we--fingers crossed--have sold the condo. it took a long time to get it ready to put on the market, but after a few backbreaking days of painting and tile-scrubbing, helen recruited "condo joe", a local realtor with a reputation of selling units quickly. after less than one week, there was an offer...of the asking price! the closing date is may 8, the day after we return from chicago.
2. chicago. helen and i are going away together for the first time since january 2006! (houston does not count.) my dear friend and former boy
, is getting married on cinco de mayo. not only are we flying up to attend the wedding, i am the
photographer. to say i am a wee bit nervous would be an understatement. mostly, though, i am honored. and i am grateful that my life has come so full a circle that i am able to play such a huge role in curtis' big day. five years ago, i would have never believed that i could be so comfortable with the direction of my life.
3. five years. my blog is officially five years old. wow. so much lived in so short a time. for those of you who have not been around long enough to know some of the highlights, here is a brief synopsis of five bananie years:
2002: i live in nashville. i have really long hair. i am dating aforementioned curtis. i work for a christian music company. i am a fulltime student. curtis' and my relationship doesn't work out (for reasons not yet disclosed...). i quit my very secure job and move to northern ireland for three months. i write a lot there, and do much soul searching.
2003: i am a part time nanny. full time student. part time freelance writer for various christian publications and companies. i come out as a lesbian to close friends, but not on the blog, because i am scared.
i meet and fall in love with helen. i begin an existential crisis. i also begin a job at starbucks. i lose a lot of weight. i get my first tattoo.
2004: i graduate from college, finally. i get my second tattoo. i spend a summer in austin, trying to figure out the logistics of a relationship with helen. existential crisis comes to a head. i check in to a psychiatric hospital. i sprain my ankle really really badly. my hair is shorter. i adopt charley. i move to austin.
2005: helen's grandmother passes away. i work as a temp. it is not fun. i quickly realize that i hate work in human resources. i quit temp job and am unemployed for a few months. helen has a bad bike accident. i shave my head. i begin working as a temp for a fruity computer company. i get my third tattoo. i start taking photographs.
2006: i am still at the fruit. i'm diagnosed bipolar. drunk jim dies. i enter psychiatric hospital again. i gain a lot of weight. we inherit drunk jim's dog, moe. we are subsequently all but kicked out of our condo due to excessive pets. oops. we find paradise, the house. helen and i both enter grad school. (i quit after one semester.) i get myself a personal trainer. boomp dies. we adopt clem, bringing our pet count to eight. yes. eight.
2007: you know...
whew. that was long. and probably boring. but damn. a lot's happened, yes?
April 4, 2007
gunther pickles has been off his antibiotics for a month now. i've said before that when he's on his meds, he is like deniro in the movie, awakenings
. without the antibiotics, he slips back into a ghostlike shell of a kitty. his appetite goes. he becomes lethargic. he gets kitty diarrhea, which is quite nasty.
so. today, we took him to see his internist. yes, my eight month old dwarf cat has his own internist. she weighed him and gave him a quick checkup. despite this recent setback, my wee man has gained a whole 1/2 pound. that's right, folks: gunther is now a whopping 3 lbs, 2 oz! his vitals looked good, and so dr. internist prescribed a 3 week round of antibiotics--and that's all she charged us for. i love his new clinic! the vet techs all swoon at gunnie and fight over who gets to hold him. dr internist goes out of her way to see him on 2 hours notice. and then she actually helps
after one dose of meds, gunnie has eaten double what he's had over the last two days. he's perky and bright eyed. once again, dr internist told us that he will probably have a short life, but that she's committed to helping us keep him as happy as possible while he's here. we've accepted that fact, and so we're just making sure he feels like he's staying a swanky resort.
chicken + vanilla yogurt + fancy wet food + more chicken + his mama = gunnie's own personal heaven.
i think he likes it here.
April 3, 2007
i cannot believe that i live in a place where it can be 85 degrees at the beginning of april. where am i, texas?
aside from mild complaints about premature bug season, i am a content little bananie. quiet. (you may have noticed the latter.)
it's a day off, glory be, and at 2:00 i'm still in jammies. my laptop is quite warm, after hours of traveling from the porch to the couch and back to bed. i've caught up on a lot of blogs today, and i've digested new ones.
the hammock may be calling me. helen should be home soon. i'm happy.
i'm happy! content. not striving. not struggling. not even second guessing myself. what a shift from the girl who was certain that the wrath of god was nipping at her heels. i am no longer the girl who (hates that she) believes every important decision she makes in life will be less than acceptable in the eyes of god and the church. that her relationship doesn't count. that she could never marry and actually be married.
the huge burden i've carried my whole life has been lifted. i am so grateful for the relief. i may not know what i believe anymore, when it comes to religious practice, but i am happy to say "i don't know."
i'm living my life.
and now to the hammock...