Snail Mail

I crouch down on all fours and the cold tile licks at my knees. As I peer through the clear patches in the tiny opaque door my breath catches, I have mail. I try to woo the lock open with a delicate mating dance of the most precise twists and turns, but it doesn't budge. I tuck my annoyance back behind my building anticipation and try again. On the third try the lock surrenders and I'm smug as I rob the box of her treasures. Today, I have received three letters and I'm already tearing open an envelope as I race back to the office. The first is from DP. She has enclosed a short note, two photographs, a coloring book page, and a beautiful red and gold bracelet from her family in India. The next envelope is from EH. She is quite the character, and my curiosity peaks as I pull out a small square of thick white paper. It's a lovely and tender block print that makes me laugh aloud. It depicts a fork crying as his spoon partner elopes with the moon; an image from a game of telephone pictionary played back in May. There is no note. The last envelope is heavy in my hands, and I have a good guess as to what's inside. I open this one more slowly, savoring the moment. Inside are 23 photos from BM all from his adventures in Spain and Morocco during his spring semester abroad. He has written a letter that spans the back of the entire collection. The photos follow a specific order as he takes me on a magical journey through a distant land. When I finish reading, I flip the stack over and read it again. Not only are the photos stunning, but BM's writing is as well. He transports me to another time and place, and it's as though he is sitting right next to me reading the words aloud. I feel the remnants of an old flame spread through my abdomen, sending color to my cheeks. I know nothing will come of it, and that's alright. I haven't felt something for someone in so long it's just nice to know I still possess the ability. I arrive back at work with my head brimming with ideas for my responses. Needless to say, I love snail mail. I like to hold a letter in my hand, to feel the paper, to see a person's face in the lines of their handwriting. It is one of the most tender ways to show someone you care. So as I tuck the letters into my bag, the bliss lingers.

This American Life

"This American Life" has saved my life. OK, that's a complete dramatization. However, the radio program has acted as a buoy to lift me out of the daily monotony of my job. I've grown to really enjoy talk radio. There's something refreshing about the absence of the image. It forces me to listen. When you can't see someone's clothes, receding hairline, oddly shaped mole, or perfectly bleached teeth, you actually pay attention to what it is they're saying. And these people have some amazing stories to tell. Some share tales of extraordinary events, and others shed light on the beauty of the ordinary. The show features just about every kind of person and story you can imagine and pulls at strings across the whole spectrum of my emotions. I comb through the archive each day to listen to a few episodes and so I will include the links to a couple of my favorites. If you choose to listen and like them, you can find the entire archive on their website. If not, that's great too. All I know is that there is a little bliss in remembering that every single one of us has one hell of a story to tell.

Recent personal favorites:

Amusement Park:
(Guaranteed to put a smile on your face)
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/443/amusement-park

What I Did For Love:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/457/what-i-did-for-love

Shouting Across the Divide:
Warning: this made me furious and made me cry in the office...
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/322/shouting-across-the-divide

Special Ed:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/207/special-ed

Adventure!:
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/448/adventure

Solitude

Amidst all the chaos and bonding and new relationships this summer I've managed to spend a lot of time with myself. Everyday I bike/walk/longboard to Core Club on my own. I eat many of my meals absorbed in a good book or magazine. Today I was the only person in my yoga class. At work I have my own office. My summer roommate moved out this afternoon, so I have the space to myself until I couch-surf at KC/MW's next week. I wandered into this awesome used book store the other day and got lost alone amongst the smell of dust and wisdom for almost an hour. Speaking of books, my two main reads this summer have been "100 Years of Solitude" by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, and "Desert Solitaire" by Edward Abbey. Notice the titles. I realized today that it has been almost a year since I broke off my relationship with LJ. Sometimes on my solo treks I play pretend. I've grown comfortable with the static in my mind. I dance like a wild woman when no one is watching. I’ve learned to laugh at myself when I realize someone is in fact watching. I take absurdly long baths, lingering in the nakedness. I take myself on dates, a hobby I picked up from the amazing HR. So although I really am quite a social creature, I've taken time this summer to hang out with someone I've really grown to love. And from this I’ve learned that while lonesomeness is easily one of the most terrible statess, it's often mistaken cousin, voluntary solitude, is truly bliss.

Indulgence

HR, one of my closest friends at Oxy, is the queen of indulgence. I would have made her proud this weekend. On Friday, MS, ACM, and I treated ourselves to dinner at the Green Street Tavern to celebrate MS's last weekend in town. The next morning KC,MW,MS and I had brunch at Auntie Em's, an Oxy staple. With my belly full and my wallet considerably lighter, I revved up for our Saturday hike. KC, MS and I spent the day at Switzer falls. The falls are located only 20 minutes away, and here's the kicker: YOU CAN SLIDE DOWN THEM. Needless to say, I could not have asked for a better day. However, all of this fun was also served with a heaping pile of guilt. I can't help but wonder why I have all of these wonderful experiences, people, opportunities, freedoms, (infinite list) in my life. I don't feel as though I've done anything incredible to merit these gifts. I certainly don't believe I deserve these things more than the next person. But I suppose I'll never come to a definitive answer, so all I can do is feel unspeakably grateful. Occasional indulgence is amusing but gratitude is always bliss.

Ollie

(Tuesday) As we crest Fiji, KC and I find that we are not alone. For those of you unversed in Oxy lingo, let me back up. Fiji is a hill at the edge of campus which offers a completely unobstructed 360 view of the surrounding area. The virgin ascent is an Oxy rite of passage. After that you're hooked. Tonight, a wiry man in his late 40s wearing a faded windbreaker and old denim reclines on one of the benches. Now normally, running into a strange man would trigger my fight or flight instincts, but this fellow has absorbed the serenity of his perch. Situated above the smog, with lines of lights trickling down distant roads, and sounds soothing one another, the venue offers a perspective to tame LA's infamous chaos. The sprawl becomes understandable, manageable, peaceful. KC and I plop down on the neighboring bench. The man turns to us, "I'm sorry I'll be getting out of here in a minute." We assure him that his presence is no bother. That's all it takes. Before we know what's hit us we are immersed in a conversation that is equal parts astronomy lesson, life-story sharing, and theological discussion. The man shows us which planets are visible tonight, and explains the mythology behind the Eagle Rock that gives the city its name. He has a childlike quality to him that I can't pinpoint, and it causes me to wonder if his teachings are complete fabrications. It doesn't matter. He goes on to agonize over the state of humanity, or in his words "my brothers and sisters of this planet." I ask him about his God and learn that he is Muslim. He tells us about growing up in Eagle Rock and long summers spent tearing around Oxy. He tells us he used to be a punk who would lie, cheat, and steal. He laughs and so do we. We learn about his childhood mentor, an Oxy baseball legend and coach. He tells us this coach used to say, "Now look, there's only two types of people in this world: those who care, and those who don't. It's that simple." I can tell that this man is the first type. I want to believe that I am also. We all pause to take in the evening and its then that KC and I realize that we've made some hungry mosquitos very happy, and that night is fast approaching. As we prepare to leave, the man says he wants to wait at the top so he can see that we get down OK before he descends the opposite side. We turn to thank him and introduce ourselves. He tells us his name is Ollie. I reach out my hand and he responds with a firm shake. And then we hug. With the precedent set, KC skips the handshake and goes straight for the embrace. We all laugh again. Ollie smiles at us and says, "Thanks. I don't get many hugs these days." My heart breaks. I want to stay up on Fiji and hug Ollie until the end of time, but instead we part ways and walk off into the night.

Fences

This weekend was a blur of activity. Actions, and interactions all bleeding together in the wash. In order to take it all in imagine you are driving by a wooden fence. As you zoom past you catch glimpses of a scene through the spaces between the slats. You weave together the negative space, crafting a loose net that catches the essence. Got it? Good. Start your engines. Friends sit atop a washer and dryer on PF's balcony. Music and chatter creep out from under the door frame. The party beckons but it can wait a few minutes. Flash. Another house. A few more people. Bodies spilling out onto the front lawn, drawn by the irresistible coolness of the night. Flash. Five kids swim in a sea of light. The waters of the illuminated Eagle Rock Pool churn as the companions leap from the life guard stands, race, backflip, flop, play. Clothes sit abandoned in piles by a chain-linked fence that was so recently scaled. Inhibitions and maturity keep them company, all useless on a summer night. Flash. A similar scene, yet an entirely different vibe: the Oxy pool during the day. Swimmers stuck on replay, following invariable routes back and forth, back and forth. Sunbathers lay prostrate praying for color. Sunscreen and tanning oils saturate the air. Music blares. Shoulders burn. Flash. KC and I sit in comfortable boredom on a set of steps. ACM and MS pull up. Flash. Shouts fill the air. Someone darts through the crowd pursuing a rogue ping pong ball. I catch the competitive spark in KC's eyes, which before long will evolve into a drunken gloss. Flash. "City Hall" fills with aromas of sauteed garlic, as I take my turn to feed the family. Food and drink get lazily passed around as Sunday draws to a close. We try to reflect on the weekend, but its a task better left to Sisyphus. There's too much. Lately it seems there is always too much, and in that I catch some bliss.

Dark Knight

Daisy's mental status:zombie mode. Cause: Batman midnight premiere triggered racing thoughts and inability to sleep further compounded by an 8 am arrival time at work. Suggested treatment: caffeine. Worth it? Absolutely. Last night brought about an unexpected surprise. I initially had plans to hang out with KC, MW, and PF to play a few games of bp, but after another exhausting BUTI workout drinking sank faster than the Titanic on my priority list. Just as I committed myself to a night in however, I got a call from MS. Because she would be turning 21 at midnight, she had an extra ticket to the premiere of "The Dark Knight Rises" and wanted to know if I was interested. She already knew the answer. My borderline unhealthy obsession with Christopher Nolan was itching for some fuel. Needless to say, the movie was incredible, and well, I'll leave it at that. After the film, we dragged our bodies from the theater while our minds lagged behind, still absorbed in the alternate reality we had occupied for the last two and a half hours. But soon enough we yanked ourselves out of the daze and launched into an analysis of the movie that would continue all the way home. We were so absorbed that we barely noticed the coupon that an employee handed us as we exited the theater. Assuming it was useless garbage, we were thrilled by our final surprise of the evening. It was a pass to enjoy a free movie. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MS! We couldn't believe our luck, and I was astounded at the abundance the universe had endowed me all in one evening. I would tell you what movie we will be seeing next week, but I think you can probably guess.