Muffy Stuff

Home again. It was a glorious week in Richmond as usual. Started with freezing rain, but by our last day together, the sky had cracked blue, we sat in the park next to a brook watching buffalo and journaling.

Something I admire about Muffy is her refusal of regret. It seeps from her. No regret, no, no, none. Horror stories are always qualified, "Obviously I think everything worked out perfectly." The here and now is what is, and from most informed angles, what is is perfect. You can either take that to mean, "at least for us middle class Americans" or an absolute, "for everyone there is perfection attainable." Regardless, if you're reading this blog on your technological device, something's going right for you in the cosmic scheme of things. Perfection is in everything.

Not to sound like a complete hippy, but it's fascinating to consider there is no past or future, only now. Not just in an inspirational speech way--yes, make the most of now--but beyond that. The past exists in our thoughts today, now. It becomes our present. Ditto future. Only this time it's not exciting to consider "the future is now." Mental toil over tomorrow and the next shadows what is here. The reliving reliving of the past makes it alive.

Pop-tarts demolished at Ted's Bulletin in DC.

I'd be the last person to say "forget your past" or "don't worry about the future." You should plan for the future, let the past inform who you have been. Who you are though, that's new. That's very new.

Spring Break 2014: Best Friend Reunion IV

Muffy and I are halfway through out Fourth Annual Best Friend Reunion. I am so grateful for this person for a trillion reasons. But something I always especially cherish is that we were not seeking friends when we met. Halfway through college, content in relationships, satisfied with school. It would have been easy to let it all fly away, confetti post-parade. But here we are! I am sitting on her bed! The same bed I stayed in two years ago on my visit! The same bed we had girl talk on the night before she got married! If there is a spark of love, you must nourish it! It will not lead you astray! Love does not lead astray!

Skyline Drive National Park in Virginia. Yesterday.

There's no hiding for me.

I'm forced to deal with what I feel.

There is no distraction to mask what is real.

I could pull the steering wheel.

Are S, D, & D Real?

"Valentine" statue from VA. 2012.

If you want your life to be good, you have to be good.
Be good. To not is a contradiction of everything you believe.
If you set your sights on a good life, no one can take that from you!

I MISS VIRGINIA

It's been a great afternoon. Sincerely. Chelle greeted me at the airport with breakfast burritos stuffed with potatoes and pinto beans. Green sauce. We laughed these giant laughs and cast our nets far in the catch-up game.

I snuggled into bed eating the Reese's eggs Muff had decorated my guest room with. Trying to inch closer to Richmond. Super sunny here--I swam in the pool because I have one. My elementary school self would gasp at the idea that I don't jump in this body of clear water at least once a day, every day.

But, oh, I unpacked my suitcase and a tiny note "Love you so much" unearthed itself. Oh, just less than 24 hours ago I was in that white living room with one lamp on in Virginia, eating Spring Oreos with these PEOPLE, these LOVING PEOPLE. Oh, I suppose there are far worse fates to love so many people from so many different places, that no matter where you go, you're missing someone.


Hosts with the mosts.


Besties. Old Roommates. Love.


Cherry blossoms on the ground.

I mean, there are worse fates, but right now, I miss my dear friends.

I'm not drowning. There's no one here to save.

Made Up Journal Entry: Clarity

Right now.

It felt like June in Illinois today. The sheet of humidity. I watched farmland out the window from the backseat as Jamba drove us across Virginia this afternoon. Muff sat passenger side thinking. Think, think, thinking--little knots of think. She was trying to arrive at what she has been searching for this past year. What's...what's...what is it that she's been...looking for? Think. Think. Think.

At eleven PM, Jamba was asleep on the living room floor. Muff and I drank water in the kitchen. Suddenly, it was imperative to move. We started dancing, but we quickly turned into jiggling, wagging, slashing creatures of the night. Kicking our feet in zig zags. I doubled over with laughter. Muff literally fell on the floor. "Butt-down on the kitchen floor," she just said. She is next to me right now as I type. (See photo.)

Lightening lit up the sky. We crept past the sleeping husband, onto the front porch. We sat on the wooden steps and watched the lights come on and off. Natural fireworks. LIGHT-EN-ING. LIGHT-EN-ING. LIGHT! We were silent. Everything--clear, as it always is. It started to drizzle, then to rain. So we walked back inside.

Immediately, Muff knew. Think no more--she knew. There's clarity in spontaneous dancing and midnight storms. The clarity showed her: "Oh. I needed clarity to realize how much I need clarity--or how much I'm constantly trying to have it."

And you can tell Jane, if she writes,
that I'm drunk off all these stars and all these crazy Hollywood nights.

Get it Out of Me

When it comes to art, Muff and I have no desire to leave our mark on the world. That's not what it's about at all. No fingerprint on the cake icing--it will melt in the sun.

It's more like, "If there's this Live stuff in me, I feel like it's my...duty? Yes, duty--to get it out."

However, most male artists we know have dreams of immortality. The marking bit and all. Is it just us, or is this genetic? Men want to spread their seed, prove their territory, make sure it is passed through the ages. Women want to just get the stupid Life out. It's gestating in there, and it needs to be born.

I recognize the inherent faults with such a simple metaphor and generalization in the context of gender and queer theory, but, it's still interesting to consider, no?

Rich!

I am RICH! I write to you from Muff's bed, covered in pastel yellow sheets. It's 3 AM (I must be lonely?) and I've let the lovebirds to sleep. But I am up, up and energized. It's juuust getting to bedtime in the desert.

1. The song "Alone" covered in Glee Season One has been stuck in my head ALL DAY. Do you have any idea what it's like to have Kristen Chenowith's belting energy bottled up on a day of planes?

2. I repeat, I AM IN MUFF AND JAMBA'S HOUSE RIGHT NOW. I was greeted with the utmost love. I sank into their embraces at midnight in the Richmond airport and I felt so grateful, welcome, satisfied: "My friends. My friends."

3. Decorations for my stay:



4. Dinner at one AM: veggie corndog, HOMEMADE RED PEPPER HUMMUS, Oreo cupcakes, Cadberry eggs.

5. This is my other family. You guys, friendship is the best.

'Til now, I've always got by in my own.
I never really cared until I met you.

Muff and Jamba--Married October 23rd, 2010

Everything changes today.
Usnavy's on his way--
off to a better place.
Look at Vanessa's face.