Thursday, March 31, 2011

Thursday, living dreams.

Dream of zip lining through a flood of trees. It is like a tundra down here. The momentum slows and I dip down into the water below. And men many years my senior surround this vision.

We play songs on broken wings perched on cement stoops.

I grab hold of the line and cascade across the chord once more, through a hillside covered in moss I've never before seen. But it is familiar. This is all familiar; the dampness in the air,  the songs, the men.

He sits beside me and kisses my eye. The pressure pushes my eye-lid into my eye and I can feel this, against the bone beneath my brow.

This time I forget the zip line and wade through the high waters. Resistance weighs as I move forward, cutting through the stream. The tide grows. My boots are entirely filled with water but my feet are not held down. The stain of the water has risen up my dress, darkening the white to a shade of grey almost reaching my chest.

And then I wake up. Not submerged. There is no moss-tinted water running near me. A white dress hangs from my closet door and I picture it wet.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Wednesday, Life in the late evening

Half of it's you, Half is me

An experience, in brevity. The five senses split between two people.

Late, yet on-time arrivals
Gas station donuts and Red Bull
Rolling Minnesota countryside
Houses built on cliffs
Sun setting over the horizon line
Free parking
Sincerely sweet library security guards
The "Best beer in the world"
American Spirits
Stars outside my window
Fur jackets
Book pages fanning through my finger tips
Discussions about experiencing joy
Golden Smog, Uncle Tupelo, Billy Bragg/Woody Guthrie, Wilco songs
Insurmountable joy

[the in-the-moment-beauty of the evening was omitted, as lists can only capture a fraction of an experience]

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Tuesday, life living and Jeff Tweedy.

I'm worried, I'm always in love.

One. Roadtrips are high up on my list of life's greatest pleasures. Ever. Especially with my [best] friend because anything is possible.

Two. Jeff Tweedy at the end point of roadtrips is most favorable. Tonight, he is our endpoint and I am beaming like school girl.

Three. The sun is shining, the moon is high. Fifteen minutes stand in the way of me and my sunglasses, tattered blue jeans.

(Four. I read in a review this morning that Tweedy is playing old songs, Loose Fur and Uncle Tupelo songs, and taking requests. Tonight I may die a content and full-hearted woman.)

Will I catch the moon
Like a bird in a cage
It's for you I swoon
I'm always in love

Monday, March 28, 2011

Monday, living in time.

One of the more beautiful weekends in recalled history. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary. Just very lovely company, food, and events. Friday night was something to behold. I felt like a spectator, a voyeur, watching a minimalist film that I would like to be in. And I was. I was living and breathing and watching and talking.

The art opening at Umber really caught me off-guard. The photographs/writing aesthetic was so warm, entirely similar to my own that it felt safe and familiar. It did not feel like a moment in time from my current life. There were genuine smiles and conversating. And a complete immersion with the content covering the tiny walls. I fell in love with everything I saw and heard.

And then I traveled over to the Cedar and was captivated yet again. Justin Vernon is truly a force to be reckoned with and I do say force with the greatest intention. I was in an extended moment of tranfixed attention for over an hour. One of those moments where you feel entirely isolated and engrossed. Again, it was beautiful. The rest of the weekend continued on. The wrap of sentimentality seemed to follow and cover everything I did. I was all right with this. It felt like I was experiencing everything for the first time. And I felt it.

I thought about individual moments of time that are maybe meaningless, but vibrant none the less.

Grapefruit, wine, eulogys. In no particular order.

One. I only put sugar on you when I feel sentimental.

Two. Part of me is pretty sure that swishing wine between ones teeth is not part of the intricate tasting process. But my father does it anyways.

Three. I'd rather say nothing than say something false.

Friday, March 25, 2011


Tonight, I fell in love with the world.

Friday, Overwhelming feelings (life)

This feels all too apropos.
The week could and perhaps should be catagorized with this photo.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Thursday, living again

I have not yet forgotten about you. Strep throat and outrageous body temperatures have put you on hold. I'll come back. I always do.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Friday: livin the dream

Friday, indeed. Crawling along, potentially the longest, most tedious Friday I can recall in recent history. My boss even set up an hour long training session because of the inactivity. And in it I almost fell asleep, from boredom and time moving far too slow.

In the midst of all of this came...

Rom-Coms from the ninety's.

This morning I started to crave films such as You've Got Mail and She's the One. It is so strange to me when entirely irrelevant and more-or-less unappealing things are suddenly injected into my life and are in some way made desirable. Needless to say, I'm really looking forward to viewing Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks banter back and forth in witty dialogue whilst flirting with each other and disaster in my near future. Sounds like a splendid time.

And then I started thinking about the film His Girl Friday. One of my all time favorites. For a moment in time I was [ever so fondly] referred to as His Girl Friday by one of my dearest. Does it mean something, or anything, that I take deep pleasure in being of assistance to others? There is a worth-contingency that rests on knowing others rely on and count on me for anyandeverythingtheycouldneed [especially regarding organizational competency, planning, baking, cooking, editing, the absurd, film, writing, music, the obscure, laughing] at any given time. I'll most likely drop everything.

Reliability sometimes comes with a fantastic nickname and if you're lucky, an even better film reference. Consider why it is you find joy in being available for others. Perhaps this gives you a sense of worth. Whatever it is, ensure that self-preservation is accounted for, and if it is, keep on keepin on.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Thursday: Appointments (life)

For St. Patrick's day, I ate a boiled potatoes with grey, phallic looking sausages. They call it coddle. Who knew.

In an hour I have an eye appointment, meaning I get to leave cubeland-flourescent0-fun-zone early to have my eyes dilated and look like a crazy person. I think my exuberance is radiating from my cube and my co-workers too want to cry yellow tears. Or perhaps they just want to leave early. Maybe the optometrist will try to convince me to wear contact lenses for the ninth time. Who knows. The future is nebulous.

Consider that maybe you need to start letting go. After five years of saying you have an "important reading test" immediately after your eye appointment, perhaps they have finally caught on and know you hate having your eyes dilated. Maybe it's not as bad as you remember. Think of this akin to a situation from your childhood. Remember when you made it through your first doctor appointment without crying and you got a Beauty and the Beast sleeping bag? Or the first dentist appointment you behaved well at and you got bright blue and neon green Rollerblades? This will be just like that. Except now you have to suck it up alone and buy your own reward.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Wednesday: cutting it close (life)

Well this is a relief.

Forty minutes before the day ends - just enough time to throw together a worthless entry to fill the daily post void when really I should be sleeping.

Daily highlights:
[From Harper's Weekly Review]
During a hearing on energy-efficiency standards for appliances, Senator Rand Paul (R., Ky.) accused a Department of Energy official of oppression: “Frankly, my toilets don’t work in my house,” he said. “And I blame you and people like you who want to tell me what I can install in my house, what I can do.” The official, Kathleen Hogan, the deputy assistant secretary for energy efficiency, replied, “I can help you find a toilet that works."
Newly unearthed photos show Eva Braun in bikinis, practicing yoga, and in blackface, impersonating Jewish actor Al Jolson impersonating a black man.

That's really something.

Tonight I went to the Convention Grill with Mark and I ate a bacon-swiss-mushroom-fried onion-burger with a chocolate malt and french fries. I told him about the dream I had where my sister was dating Pete Yorn and I woke up legitimately upset. He looked concerned. And followed it up with a preposterous statement that Pete Yorn is married to Madonna's sister-in-law, which I quickly refuted. This turned out much like our debate at his show a few years ago where he insisted that The Passenger was on Iggy Pop's The Idiot, when clearly it was on Lust for Life. We argued intensely for a while. I was right and I think he is still a bit sore from that loss. I was also right in disproving his statement about Madonna and Pete Yorn. We left shortly after and I insisted on splitting the bill after he had already made it a point of buying me dinner.

Why am I unable to let people take me out to dinner? Some how have a tendency to screw up nice gestures. Perhaps I should work on that.

I came home around nine. My thoughts quickly dissipated. I made scotcheroos for the 15th work potluck of this month and wondered if there is or ever would be a category in the State Fair for bars. They are, after all, a staple Minnesotan dessert/potluck item. Maybe I should write a letter to the baking gods and make a suggestion or two.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Tuesday, Living (in Minnesota)

The spring thaw is upon us. It feels incredible and new and fresh. And is entirely what I need at this exact moment in time.

I started to think about living in Minnesota. This state is so deeply a part of me, from the change in seasons I anticipate, to my Norwegian heritage I too adore. Because I've lived here my whole life, I started to question if there are places and things I have not experienced out of routine. Thus began my Minnesota bucket list: Things I want to do-see-hear-witness-enjoy before the end of the summer. This also includes a bit of Wisconsin when necessary.

For some reason I feel like I'm currently seeing the city in a whole new light. While driving home yesterday evening I looked at the buildings I've looked at since I was a kid. Stores and houses between 28th/Park and Hennepin/Lake. And the skyline. And when I got out of my car, I smelled the air. It smelled entirely of Minnesota air. No better way to describe it.

Naturally my thoughts progressed to friends, to the people I see on a daily basis and have for so long. I am a terribly lucky human being. Perhaps I have gotten sentimental. Sure. But honestly. I know some incredible people who do equally incredible things. My friend Mark and I had a great conversation about places last night, about life and what people do. He is a shining example of a talented lively person I'm entirely fortunate to know. Through the course of our chatter I realized that his insight was entirely true, albeit a bit dark given his nature. It is nice hearing opinions of those you care about.

I'm ready to take on Spring. Ready to take in Minnesota and the people I've known and have yet to know. It's going to be bright.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Monday: PI DAY!

What goes on for infinity and tastes amazing? Pi day.

A happy Monday indeed.

Part of the initial weight was lifted off my shoulders Friday evening. After nearly a week of holding in the news, I told many of my close friends. It was a relief I never could have anticipated going so well. Three of my five meals were paid for as a result last week... I should have taken that as a positive sign.

Dinner last night at my folks house also helped ease into my decision. Of course they're sad. I knew they would be all along. And part of me questions: have I always stuck around because I was afraid to leave them? Oh the complexities. Regardless of past decisions, I'm working through the present one.

Over the next five months I will say countless times, It's setting in and I'm really okay with it; I'm excited and it's great. But chances are these statements will be followed by mini-meltdowns. Fourteen hundred miles is a long way for someone who has never been anywhere.

What I do know is that yesterday - in its entirety - was spent baking. I made three large pies and six small ones, to make up 3.14 pies in honor of the mathematical holiday today. It made everything feel okay.

In moments of solitude realize that you have much more to look forward to, for it is in the intricacies, the everyday that you are happy. And that no matter where you're at, you will always have yourself - your past and present of what y0u love and are.

All I own I carry with me.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Friday: Life Signs

For the past year I waited for clearly defined signs and paths to lead me where I was supposed to go. Perhaps post-graduation depression, maybe actual floundering and uncertainty. Who knows. What I do know is I'm almost positively sure that sign has now presented itself to me. Not pretty sure, sure sure. When the first arrived on Sunday I said, Wow, Okay, but thought that perhaps there was too much coincidence or chance was involved.

Of course I couldn't take it for what it was worth, and needed a second, more concrete "sign" as verification. So I said, If THIS comes, then indeed, it is a sign of what I have to do. And unfailingly, THIS arrived last night.

Sometimes, all you have to do is ask for more direction. If you find yourself wandering aimlessly for too long, question your options. Decide on two or three desired outcomes and make a pro/con list. Then identify the "signs" for each. If nothing happens, try again. Eventually it will all come up Millhouse.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

thursday, life

I'd be entirely lying if I said I wasn't scared out of my mind.

Before tonight I'd never enjoyed the feeling of fear, of the unknown. Now, I'm laying in bed, eating coconut milk filled mochi and picturing myself in the future tense. It's amazing.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

An homage to food: Living

A look back at my favorite food moments from the past year:

17th Street Benedict from Bluebird in Kansas City, MO

Winning second place at the MN State Fair

First Lattice-topped Apple Pie

Chocolate cupcakes with Salted Caramel Buttercream

Pumpkin Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Buttercream

Beet salad with goat cheese, candied pecans, mixed greens and Bell's Two Hearted

Assorted cupcakes for Cause Trivia 1 Year Anniversary

Satchel's German Chocolate Birthday Cake

Old fashioned Candy Shoppe for my birthday

Carrot Cake for Maija's Birthday

Cappuccino from Dogwood Coffee

Wednesday, Life.

Last night I threw together a quick batch of salted nut rolls for my father. Somehow covering fresh nougat with caramel caused my thought process to redirect to coffee. See, ever since my terrible bout with food poisoning in December, coffee hasn't really been on my radar, so it was unexpected to be day dreaming of the stuff. I thought about the styling I did for Target. It's frustrating to have never seen the print version, BUT! what it made me realize is that it has now been published, and therefore means I can show my rough images!

(Sincerest apologies for the long-winded introduction for merely showing photos of pretty lattes)

What a job. I e-mailed back and forth with the art director for about a week with regards to the type of machine and grinder I wanted, showed up to the studio day of, and poured lattes for three hours. And was compensated generously, to say the least. Perhaps I ought to get back in the world of food styling.

Nicole graciously took me out for celebratory sushi after my quick baking stint yesterday evening. Initially planned as a congratulatory dinner for her recent permanent job acquisition, the meal was quickly diverted to my recent news. Wonderful conversation and equally lovely sushi. Midori's Floating World is potentially the best in the city, aside from Origami. Quality of service and price wins without question.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

tuesday, living

Lists: Let them begin, I suppose.

My head has been reeling with thoughts that jump to another thought that jump to anxiety, then to excitement, and back around again until I tell my brain to stop. And then I pretend that none of this is real.

It's a cyclical event that's been occuring for the past three days. I sort of feel like I'm in the movie Groundhog Day.

Speaking of films. I watched Darjeerling Ltd finally this weekend, and whoa. How had I not seen that before.

Anyhow. I keep freaking out. But I think it's ok. It will be ok. I just need to save money and realize that this is entirely for the best. And that it's the sign I've been waiting for.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Monday: Life and living.

LIBRA (Sept. 23-Oct. 23). There are some problems that are best sorted out in your subconscious mind. Sleep, meditation and activities that require creativity will help you to synthesize and process your life

The Holy Shit factor has set in.

I'm pretty sure my stress level has risen exponentially, which is funny because I thought it would have gone down, more of a sigh of relief.

But, if for once in my life I should actually take advice from my horoscope, it looks like today is the day.

The new Stars record came on my stereo this morning. Apropos. Always happens to me:

I've never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the gold and the gain
Changes, I've never been good with change
I hate it when it all stays the same
Caught between the cold and the wave
My heart beats up again

Needless to say. If that wasn't perfect timing, I don't know what is.

So I am learning to breathe again.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Sunday. Life, living.

I feel like it's appropriate to write something about this moment in time but I'm not sure what.

I wasn't running. The brown fields of Iowa passed my periphery as I drove.

The envelope wasn't big as I'd imagined. I didn't shower today and besides my boots, I'm not wearing anything I thought I would. Now I sit here eating stale pecans. An unbearable lightness of being.

This morning I woke up at three and laid awake next to my sister. I knew an envelope waited for me at home. The future played through my head like a janky sixteen millimeter film I would make about the situation. The future is right now. It doesn't look dissimilar to the one I'd thought of this morning, but it feels real and present, like I am in it and am breathing but I don't entirely understand yet.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Friday: Life

My cohort Bethany contacted me this morning to say that MSq had been de-commissioned last night, that Bob was thrown out of the meeting because he called the head of student organizations a Nazi dictator. See, his actions are entirely him. That put a smile on my face; fighting like the tough bird he is (and adding to my favorite Bob moments of all time). **Aside: Nothing can top him telling a student in front of the class: It's student's like you that make me want to hang myself.**

What saddens me about this potential loss is complex. The tiers start with Mitchell and cascade down to the state of the liberal arts mindset of today. MSq was the last tangible thriving bit of Mitchell on campus. It was the longest standing student organization and a nationally recognized publication. It is potentially heartbreaking for Bob, for Cass, and the countless published/unpublished. And for the lost eighteen year old who was somehow picked out by John Mitchell to be saved by this literary publication, this would be a travesty.

Here's to hoping the English dept. can be creative with fund allocation.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Thursday. Moments in Life

Sometimes I wonder about what life would feel like without anticipation.

What if everything ever just happened and you had nothing to look forward to besides the possibility of something happening?

At times I think that I like the build-up better than the actual event, more than the actual feeling.

Some days I wake up and consider what it would be like to feel nothing at all. Once I tried to teach myself to see without my glasses. It didn't work and I got a headache.

I attempted to live without remorse or regards to other people's feelings. It lasted roughly twelve hours and I felt terrible and empty and selfish. Often I have wondered if I feel too much. I think I would rather feel too much than feel nothing at all.

One morning upon waking up I tried to tell myself that This won't matter in a year, Let it go, but I was wrong. It mattered. Everything does.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Wednesday. Life

Getting take out.

There is something about ordering take-out that screams single white female to me. Maybe it is the visual of sitting at home alone, in pajamas with a carton of fried rice in one hand and chop sticks in the other, watching a rom-com that leads me to this. Who knows. What I do know is last night was the first time since moving into my apartment nearly two years ago that I legitimately ordered take-out.

It went something like this.

I called Kinhdo. The guy who answered the phone - perhaps too affluent and well spoken for his own good - implied that perhaps I had ordered this a few times in the past and have finally tweaked it to perfection. Mock duck fried rice, no msg no onion, extra vegetables. I think he meant I was a pain in the ass. He tells me, Fifteen minutes. I show up in fourteen.

A blind man sits in the waiting area as I enter on the corner of 28th and Hennepin. I nearly trip on his cane as I walk towards the register. We have the same glasses. Momentarily I pause and look him straight in the eyes. I wonder if he sees me, if he knows that we are wearing the same glasses. The man at the register interrupts our glance. He asks if I'm Emily. And I am. My order of course is running late and I eye at the last chair in the waiting area. Before I turn to sit down I hear my name again.

An old man with a long grey beard and glasses walks over to me. It's David. He's a regular at my coffeeshop. As he approaches me he extends his hand and asks how I've been. I answer Well, with a smile, and do not ask how he is because he will answer Not Well. I've been writing again, he tells me. David used to run a halfway house for crazy people. Mentally unsound. He knows them well as he is one. Harvard educated, incredibly intelligent, drove himself mad. I shift my glance towards the vacant chair and he insists on getting back to his meal, and that he was delighted to see me.

Multiple tables walk in. They look at me as they pass and know I am getting take out for myself. My mind drifts as the woman next to me brushes my arm with her newspaper. I recognize this strange holding pattern the three of us are in --the blind man, the woman with the newspaper and myself. A vision of us eating together crosses my mind and I wonder how we would interact since not even the slightest eye contact has yet to be made. I pull out my phone and type, A blind man has the same glasses as me. Maybe he's not blind.

The affluent man speaks my name. He rattles off some line about me having to have been a baby when I started coming to Kinhdo because I mentioned being a customer for over eight years and he fumbles on his words. I can tell he is nervous. He places my order on the counter and I leave with little said.

When I get home, I replicate the exact image I loathe. Carton of fried rice in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and watch An Education on my laptop. For one night, and one night only, I am that single white female.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

tuesday, living

Migraine's suck out my will to live. This one started last night around eight and has to be some sort of revenge. My mother's been telling me to go to the doctor and I keep putting it off. Similarly I've been putting off having my eyes dilated for over four years. Clearly this is a painful amalgamation of the two. It's hands down the most fucked up migraine I've ever had. Symptoms: numb left hand(here and there), crazy vision, disorientation, falling over. The list goes on. It's gotten better as the days gone on, but has persisted since nine last night and is a pain in my ass.

Needless to say working at a computer is totally fantastic. And producing a thoughtful post today is just not in the cards.