Been a bit restless today, did not feel like writing until now.
Got my period this morning and other than thinking I was a useless worthless piece of shit for the bulk of the day before yesterday and crying about Jake and Amy last night, oh and doing bad math on antibody numbers. I have skated through this one okay. They aren’t all awful. I get a freebie every now and again.
Pain is manageable.
I scrubbed and blessed my room on the new moon in anticipation of being a sad, bed ridden zombie girl hosting some kind of hacking ripping tearing burning Viking skirmish in my uterus. But as it stands, I am alright.
The floor is already needing a mop again and that ain’t happening. It is actually hot in the attic and my darling man child left his cats with me for a bit so…no open door until they go. I have sky lights, no openable windows. So no extra exertion shall occur upon this day.
So be it. This is temporary. The period, the attic, the cats, the quarantine. Everything is temporary on a long enough timeline.
I think we are past the point of no return, and I have no desire to go backwards.
Anyone listening? My prediction is you have about 34 days left to do whatever it is you promised yourself you would do if you had time.
Before all this happened…
I had a plan.
Didn’t really plan past June. Not far anyways.
Newfoundland, states, Owen Sound.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I don’t have a plan now.
I have money and travel vouchers.
I have a car that’s no longer encased in ice that I can now afford to fix.
Another car I can buy or trade or whatever.
And I have faith.
I am actually okay not knowing. This is the first day I could say that and mean it.
I really think everything is going to be okay.
And maybe my plans weren’t the best version of what they could be.
Maybe this will be bigger and better than I could have planned on my own.
Definitely.
(happy sigh)
I didn’t plan on going to Arizona, but I went, and I had a good time. I didn’t plan my last trip to Wolf, but fuck I am glad it happened.
Maybe I can’t plan big enough. But I still want to see Graceland.
When I was young, we had one radio station that came in clearly. CKNX. A lot of Canadian bands and a lot of generic crap. They played old comedy sketches on Sunday nights. It was heavy on top 40’s and the can con.
My dad’s best friend had the most amazing record collection. Stacks and stacks of vinyl. They always had music playing when we went to visit. God I loved their house. No furniture that couldn’t be climbed on. Trees for outdoor climbing. Nothing but cows and fields for days. And so many toys and good things to eat. The house of pink applesauce. I went back a few years ago and it is still somewhat the same. The worn out couches are new worn in couches. The revolving door of barn cats all have new faces and new names. The woodstove is new, kitchen too. But the vinyl and turntable remain.
My mom always had the radio on, but it wasn’t the same. I didn’t have to wait for a song to come on; I could choose what I wanted to hear, and it was glorious. I think the adults thought it was cute that 10 year old me wanted to listen to Sting and the Velvet Underground. But my generation grew up listening to Rumors, took us a long while to figure out what players only love you when they’re playin’, and laying me down in the tall grass and doin’ my stuff meant. It’s funny how uncensored our childhoods were.
My dad has also stood on the corner in Winslow Arizona. He loves the Eagles.
I had a musical childhood.
I also had trouble sleeping as a kid and my dad bought me a double cassette player. I loved it. Did not help me sleep at all because I would just stay up and listen to music, but I was happy. He and his best friend, realizing I had a thing for music, made me tapes from vinyl.
It is how I got introduced to Peter Gabriel. I heard In your Eyes on the radio one night coming back from dance class in the car with my dad and we had a conversation about Genesis and Phil Collins. It didn’t make sense to me that something so beautiful could have come from something so generic. And a day later I had a copy of that album for my little ghetto-blaster tape deck thingee.
It remains part of my definition of love to this day.
Part of me wanted to fit in with my friends and listen to pop and part of me loved being in my room alone and listening to this next level deep shit. Then grade 8 happened and the Joshua Tree came out and my musical tastes went one way and the other kids kept listening to Whitney and Madonna.
In addition to the album So, I had a copy of Graceland by Paul Simon. We listened to Simon and Garfunkel live in Central Park so often when I was little. I find his voice really soothing. Graceland is playing right now.
I listened to it before I went to the festival in Arizona.
There’s a line that says, “take this child orphan to Tucson Arizona, give her the wings to fly through harmony and she won’t bother you no more.” I went to Tempe, but still. Love that line. Had to hear it while I was packing.
And then there is now, or what was supposed to be now. I was going to take Attica to Pensacola for the swimming, NOLA for the magic, Shreveport because of True Blood and I really want to go to Memphis.
The line is “for reasons I cannot explain there’s some part of me wants to see Graceland.” I can explain. Its from the song.
And I too want to stand on the corner in Winslow, Arizona.
And I have to go here too… future me does anyways
So there I was and there you were
All black and white but you colour
Dry season in the town of Broome
I found my staircase to the moon
John Butler, Just Call
But before that happens
I have a reason to believe we all will be received in Graceland.
