Oh those Latin Americans..

they can really drink you under the table.

I am so thrilled to be back in school you can't even imagine. I am ecstatic to have a schedule - boulangerie for the best bread at 6pm, groceries at the market on Saturday, class orientation at 9am until 9pm. I'm too happy for anyone to be this happy. I walked home tonight - and not intoxicated but filled with a few beers with friends from last year - with a wide grin to send to the ladies on the corner, the men in the arab grocery stores, the couple holding hands on the metro, the people on the street. I am too happy for this world!

Yes, I loved my summer in Geneve, and yes, I felt free, but more than that, I feel ... like fireworks, like a birthday ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, like Christmas right before you open the presents... I feel this about every day of life. I am so thankful thank you thank you thank you to whomever is owed these thanks for me being alive and free and fortunate and lucky to live.. LIVE. Even in the struggle of fear of the financial collapse, the fear of no job next year, the fear of deciding classes, the fear of what Presidential candidates are deciding each day, the fear of poverty ever-lasting, the sadness of corruption, the depression of losing all holds on reality.. despite these, and WITH them, I am still blessed to feel such utter contentment with life.

"Death is the Easy Way" by My Morning Jacket played on my headphones as I walked home. Replayed over and over again. It's a horribly depressing song, but it inspired in me a sense of freedom and remembrance that death is the easy way and life is hard and messed up and difficult and messy and not easy and my god I'm so lucky to have it. And I'm not at all naive enough to think that this moment will last. I know that in 4 weeks I'll be stressed out and complaining and freaking out and wishing for simpler times. But I will still, even then, remember how lucky I am to feel the feelings of those emotions and experiences.

It will be 11 years this October when Mike killed himself. I can see him standing here right now. I even almost forgot his name but I could still see his face, his fresh-faced youth snicker and blonde hair and glasses. His punk look and detached coolness. He was dating Liberty, my roommate in Minneapolis. She was one of eight roommates at the time in our 3-story house. I had just meet her in the kitchen one day, after I had re-enlisted into college after a two year absence. I moved in with my old friends and she was new and blonde and black clothes. We all were then. And she came with Mike later, who became a funny, comical character around the house. He was in a band, as were so many of our friends then. He lived with like five other guys over at Dead End Alley - named that for the street sign just outside their house. Minneapolis was and is a cold place with generously warm hearts and a ton of community. But he was suffering. And Liberty helped in so many ways. She'd made an appointment with him with a psychologist or some such. The day before the appointment, he climbed into a car in the carport of Dead End Alley and hitched a tube between the exhaust pipe and the window.

He is my inspiration. Every autumn. It used to be every day, then every week, then month, then he just kind of melted into my own thoughts and personality. He has become a talisman in a way. Live now. Life is short. Live well. Live with all the emotions of life. Life is bigger than just happiness. Life is broader than just joy. Life is all the pain and sadness and hatred and depression and happiness and success. Life just fucking is. And this is his gift to me.

I can still see him standing there.

Slightly goofy and too smart for his own good.

And I'm smiling now. Laughing even!

God, he's given me a good thing.

Life is short. It should be lived to the fullest in any way possible.



Yah.

Yeah.

Well, here's to Mike. And to my friends Eduardo and Juan Pablo and Kimberley. For tonight. We hadn't seen each other since last year and they invited me for beers. We were close in varying degrees last year. Degrees that came and went like waves. Disgust, anger, rejection, friendship, confidence, love, hatred, jealousy, indifference. But we had such good talks tonight. There are some people in life that are just that. Friends in unique degrees, who are deeper friends than we know, revealed to us only in special moments. These people are ... well, I hope never to lose them. Like Dasha. She is far from me but we are friends. I know this without having to read her words. But it's icing on the cake to see a sentence from her. I'm not afraid of being far from my friends because I know I can find them again. Petty, but Facebook has helped this triple-fold. Regardless of it, I am so fortunate to know that my friends, family, loved ones are out there - in the world. Rooting for me. Working on just causes. Loving each other. Loving life. This sustains me. And, my god, I'm so fortunate for this knowledge and feeling.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Thank YOU.
yes, YOU.

Life is short. Be it. Live it. Be here now.

Mad Dog Palin

"John McCain's running mate may be a tawdry, half-assed fraud — but that's not as scary as what her candidacy really says about America."

The October 2nd issue of Rolling Stone has an article by Matt Taibbi, 'The Lies of Sarah Palin' which is an excellent commentary on what this election represents and has devolved to. You can read it here.

this is my love of language

Oh, Paris, city of...

Lights
Traffic
That special smell of urine mixed with fresh bread with salty armpits and gorgeous cheese
Hot sun and cool wind
Grey tin roofs
Staring
Eyes demanding a "pardon" if one bumps into another person
Welcoming smiles from the local boulangerie and cave
Dog poop in the grates around trees
Short chimneys lined like ceramic pots waiting for gods
Flies who know to dart into an apartment and can find their way out immediately
Daredevil pigeons that blow the hair out of your face
Groups of chanting, drunk tourists
A new "traditional" restaurant on the corner (replacing the old Italian one)
A burned, empty building where I had my last panini (little bugs crawled on my shoes there)


I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. I am frantically trying to re-build my nest. The apartment looked the same when I got in and the first thing I did was unlock the shutters, push them open and let the air in. It rained just after I bought dinner. The subletters left a bit of food and odds and ends. I made my bed and fixed the futon. I took a shower and adjusted things (soap dish over here, shower head like so). I remembered this place. Now, I'm trying to unpack the boxes I left and the things I brought back from Geneve. In between, buying groceries and amenities. In between, running off this afternoon to school to meet with my colleague to talk about the conference, see some friends there. I am Scandinavian American, and we like to keep busy. .. I guess ..

Meanwhile, I'm walking the long way to the supermarche to absorb the city again. It's brilliant. It's brilliant to see the tourists (less now than the past couple of months though) with eyes wide open and giggles as they walk from Pigalle to the Moulin Rouge - all the sex stores surprise them. UK frat boy types posing with arms spread wide in front of the 3-story Sex World store. Older couples giggling with cameras around their necks. And, on the benches, along the promenade, sit all the regulars - some with beers, some waiting for their man, some with sandwiches. I love this neighborhood.

It's easy to jump back in, although it takes me my own sweet time to do it. I miss having the awesome flatmate I had. I miss the lake and the old town and my dear bicycle. I miss petite chat Lion. I made some good friends there and I miss them.

Easing in....

Leaving on a jet plane

Well, rather, on a fast train.

Bought my ticket to Paris on Monday. Leaving on 9/11. Seems appropriate since I left the USA for Paris on the same date - after all, tickets are cheaper then. It's my reinvention of a bad day into something good, some change.

Cinque Terre was great. It wasn't the pilgrimage I thought it would be, but it brought me closer to my good friend. It was a lot drier this time around so we weren't slipping on rocks the whole hike. The pasta was excellent, the seafood fresh, the sun boiling, the exercise cathartic.

Since I got back to Geneve, have been working on photos, working on the conference I'm planning for the students of my school and 4 other schools that will happen in November. (How oh how did I rope myself into this one?) Also, caught all the DNC and RNC action online. Interesting differences. I'm scared, I'm hopeful, I have no idea what's going on. It feels strange not to be participating in another one of the most important historic events of my country. Strange, but relieving. I don't envy my past co-workers who are working so hard for this election. I'm slightly disillusioned, but yet inspired still by Obama. I can't imagine what the campaign trail does to a person, but I hope everyone is taking their vitamins. (Especially after the news clips of Hilary talking about eating pizza all the time.)

.....
9/11/08

It's always strange to see an empty room without the hope and excitement of filling it. I can't wait to arrive in Paris, although I'm not looking forward to the miles of up/down stairs with my backpack and suitcase. They need to invent elevators. Seriously, I still wonder what physically-challenged people do to get around. And, then, I'll have the long climb of 101 stairs to my apartment. I'll go up, unload the backpack, go down, separate out the suitcase and go up with both. Then, I will pass out. No, then, I will make the bed, check the apartment, get food, get wine, and slowly unpack to fill an empty room with future.

Last night, the flatmate and I had a wonderful meal, drank really great wine, and read tarot cards again. It's quite interesting this pagan ritual. Interpretation can play a major part, but I never, not once, picked up the "fool" card. In fact, it seemed as if my fingers were blessed to pick out only cards with strength, communication, warmth, internal power, and victory. I'm excited about this next year of school, and I can't wait to see what happens afterwards.

Well, see you all back in Paris! Oui, oui, Paris.

Ciao, Geneve!