Open Your Big Eyes, Take in the Sunrise

When I was a little girl, maybe 6…7, we would have Sunday night dinner at my Gram’s house. We would drive home at the end of the night, 2/5 of the car asleep, and we would suddenly fall above something I used to call Fairyland. Not sure if my parents or I coined the term, but it was at the top of the hill, where all the lights of Almaden would shine, and it was Fairyland. It was my favorite thing. I was reminded of it when I landed at SFO last week: Magic.

You see, lately, I feel very small. Not like I’m minuscule, or powerless, but as I’m always reminded, I’m just a piece in the puzzle we call life–a contributor.

I had several ups and downs this summer, from moments of helplessness, to feelings of being on top of the world. And I’m so happy to have experienced them both, along with the nuances in between.

It makes me human.

I’ve been thinking a lot about being human lately. Feeling very small. Friends have had babies, friends have dealt with loss. I was on a boat in the Chicago River in July with my mom, looking up at the great American Skyscraper, and I felt tiny. I was pulled inside the circus tent I bought my 2 year-old Goddaughter last week, and once again felt like a child. This summer, I experienced water balloons with 5-year-olds, a car break-in, and weeping like a child at the news that one of my students was finally in remission. I felt very small.

But not in a bad way.

When I was 22, wet behind the ears, fresh from college, I set out one morning to Clement street, a few blocks from where I lived, following rumors that I would run into Robin Williams, a “neighbor”. I was selling books back to Green Apple, one of the finest independent bookstores, which have always been close to my heart.

Fences Mean Nothing

Tags

driving, Eels, family, freeways, Gram, happy, Jude, lilacs, love, mom, Side of the Road, surprises, winter blues

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the sides of the road. Odd, I know. Maybe not since I spend 2 hours in the car each day commuting. For instance, the picture above is a  work of “art” I found…you guessed it…on the side of the road. Not a freeway or highway, but Gough, a decent enough, heavily trafficked street in San Francisco. So that counts.

Every year on my main highway, when the daffodils and mustard greens pop open yellow, I send my mom a picture. Don’t worry–I just aim while keeping my eye on the road. It usually takes several takes to get a decent shot, and even then, I have to zoom and crop. But I know how much she loves the pictures, as do I. And once upon a time, I would print those same pictures, and bring them to my Gram, who treasured their timely arrival. It’s just something I do, I guess.

In early March, I saw an abandoned, very brown Christmas tree on the side of the highway, and I laughed out loud. And the best ever Side-Of-The-Road-Experience was the burning mattress. For that one, fortunately, I had a witness. We were dying laughing. The sides of the road mostly produce trash, laughs, and the occasional pieces of strewn clothing. I remain vigilant to my constant scanning, and usually, it produces

They are Tangled Up in the Light

Tags

DPchallenge, Dublin, Guinness, Ireland, love, travel

It’s my 8th time to Dublin. I’m a snob, I know. I’ve seen Bloomsday in 1999, seen U2 at Croke Park in 2008, and know the Irish Punt. Ireland is like a second home. And as I am here once again, with a fresh set of eyes with my uncle who is a first-timer, I know why I love it here.

In my 7 previous times, I have missed two important things in Dublin–the Guinness museum, and the National Library. As always? I’m here when the Library is shut, which is unfortunate because the two missing links in our geneology is when my great great great grandparents came over in the famine. I guess I’ll have to book another trip 🙂

But I did get to for the first time go to the Guinness factory and let me tell you–amazing!

Guinness is one of those iconic figures in my life. I love IT. The beer, what it stands for, and now the brewery. It is gorgeous. Anyone, including those who don’t drink, will find themselves in awe .

Glass, barley, water–it has all.

To steal from the Jayhawks line, “I never knew how it should be”.

So here’s to Dublin. Here’s to the place that keeps reinventing itself. Here’s to the place I never thought could once again impress me. It has.

—
Moonlight in Vermont–Willie Nelson
Love Don’t Wait–Michael Franti
Hide Your Colors–Jayhawks
Elderberry Wine–Elton John
Orphan Girl–Emmylou Harris
The Finer Things–Steve Winwood

You’re In Need of Something You Can’t Find

Tags

charm bracelet, dreams, gift, Gram, Lenny Kravitz, lost things, mom, postaday, San Francisco Giants, searching, start again, World Series

I seem to have lost my sense of time in the past few weeks. I don’t know where it has gone. It’s kind of like I am in a hamster wheel. Perhaps it’s not the worst place to be, but this annoys me. To my credit, this fall has been intense. For starters, once again, the San Francisco Giants, the baseball team I grew up with, moves on to the World Series tomorrow night. I have been watching a lot of baseball, which is usually the case in the post-season, regardless of who’s still in. Well, with the exception of the Dodgers and the Yankees.

Since I was a teenager, I have had a reoccurring dream where I am searching everywhere for something I have lost. Sometimes it happens when I really have misplaced something I care about, other times when I am overly tired. I tend to lose everyday things for a few hours–a day or two tops–but for the most part, I am able to have reconnaissance missions to locate them. Except twice.

In high school, I lost a gold and sapphire birthstone ring I received in 3rd grade. It was for my birthday, and I had scoured the Best Catalogue over and over. With enough nagging and proving to my mom that I wouldn’t ever lose it, there it was on the fireplace hearth, ready for me to open after dinner and cake. I bent the hell out of the ring over the years, and had it straightened with my dad’s pliers, broke the shank in half, and even had to have it resized. This ring survived endless abuse, but it was loved. Until I lost it, and then it was adored and revered.

I was in high school, maybe college, and the ring went missing at some point. I didn’t wear it daily; it had a permanent resting place in my jewelry box. But then it didn’t. I stewed, and searched, and got teary. I mentioned it to my mom, who was as baffled as I was. It came up in conversation that Sunday when my Gram came to dinner. The next day, she called our house and asked to talk to me. She told me that she had a dream the night before about my ring, and I should check behind my nightstand, under my bed, anywhere near where I could have taken it off in my sleep. Low and behold, I found it underneath my nightstand. It was the last piece of jewelry I lost. Until 2007.

When I graduated from 8th grade, I received a 14 karat gold charm bracelet from my Gram, with a charm on it. It was a gold filigree cross. That same day, I received a shamrock from my parents, a “13” from the family I babysat, and I was slowly on my

Hey, I’ve Got Nothing to Do Today But Smile

Tags

birthday, change, fiction, growth, happy, life, Simon & Garfunkel, Smile, The Shins, wriitng

I should have a ton to write about, but I guess I don’t. After going through all six songs tonight, I know I love them all, and know them all well. The lyrics from “I’m the only Living Boy in New York” capture my post tonight–it’s been a good day, week, month. Sometimes I feel like I might wake up from a very long dream, and sink back to where I was a year ago. I hope this doesn’t happen.

So why was it great? Why do I have nothing to do but smile? Last weekend was my 35th birthday, and for me, it was a complete blowout. It was amazing. Dinner with friends, bowling, drinking way too much, dancing wherever and whenever I wanted, hiking 24 miles over the course of 3 days, hearing from people I love, and regretting nothing from where I went from 34 to 35. In fact, it’s made me a little humble. It’s been a journey to say the least.

I am haunted by Simon and Garfunkel’s lyrics: “Half of the time we’re gone, but we don’t know where”. This is a fair statement for parts of the last year. I’ve come a long way–personally, professionally, physically, emotionally, literally. I’ve mentioned before the rough year career-wise, and making a major change in my health, which resulted in a great and permanent weight loss. But, the literal change, this last one is very important to me. Last November, I picked up my portfolio I created for my final graduate class at Bread Loaf–my first fiction writing class since being an undergrad. I worked my ass off in that class because I wanted to. I knew I would get an A, but I didn’t blow it off like so many others in our class. I put everything into my writing, and I guess I haven’t stopped.

The outcome by the end of the course were five very different short stories–most which began short at only 4 pages or so, but ended up between 15-20. I let them rest between August and November, and when I went to Chicago for a conference, I brought those to “work on” because I knew I would be dining alone for the weekend. I revised and rewrote, tore apart, merged, scrapped, and every other verb one can associate with writing and editing.

Next Monday, the 24th, I begin my first class since Bread Loaf–a fundamentals of fiction course through Stanford’s Continuing Studies program. I volunteered to go first to workshop a story that has consumed me for nearly a year and a half. I love that it has consumed me. I love that I’m not stopping.

It’s not in the right context, but if I could sum up my year in the line of one of tonight’s songs, it would definitely be The Shins’ line, “And I’d swim to the poles just to find the right satellite”, meaning, I will never stop searching for meaning in life, the right story to write, the perfect health to be had, the right smile that might not be on my lips at all times, but at least behind them.

Hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile 🙂

Rain–The Beatles

I know–Bob Marley and the Wailers

Hang ‘Em High–The Meters

The Only Living Boy in New York–Simon & Garfunkel

Turn a Square–The Shins

I want to Pay You Back–The Chi-Lites