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.