bookish dreamer

No, really, it did. We had sheets of rain suddenly descend on us, directly after the clouds rumbled ominously and the sky dazzled with some bright light. For about half an hour. Then, like a garden hose turned off, it stopped. Man, I missed weather. This is actual weather. Not the pansy ass stuff that LA calls rain.

Poor Neil though, had just washed his car before the deluge began. It's now covered with rain spatter and muddy kitty prints again. I have trouble being terribly sympathetic, since my car is dirtier than his.

Seems like a whirlwind, but at the same time, like a gentle smooth glide.

To sum up:

I am on spring break. I love it. There is nothing finer than being told you must stay away from school for a while. I even managed to skip my last class (intentionally) and tried to get drunk with fellow class mates. Key word here is tried, since I learned there's a world of difference between 19 year olds who don't know how to drink and 29 year olds who are well practiced at it and have a lot of alcoholics in the family. Yeah. Different amounts of alcohol are required, different types of drinking style are employed, and taste is occasionally optional. Fun though. And I learned more about yaoi in five hours than many of you will ever care to know. Probably more than I'll ever care to know. Anyone else want Japanese manga gay porn? Just let me know and I'll share. Neil was the nicest most patient boyfriend ever and even came to get me and help me get my car.

So, to celebrate the fabulousness of my vacation, I took the money George Bush probably should've been putting into our declining infrastructure (but instead gave me in something called a rebate) and bought myself a new computer. The first truly new computer I've ever owned. It may not be super spiff to all of the fabulously equipped computer people out there, but to me it's the coolest thing since sliced bread. I'm finally getting to enjoy the little pleasures of the modern modern age: no stuttering, a DVD player, being able to run a program and download something and listen to music all at the same time. My friends and my beloved have kindly set me up with every program known to man, and, along with a little help from UT's public licensing program, in 2 days I've transferred everything from my old baby to my new bright and shiny darling. She purrs, she sings, she makes me happy.

And then, not only that, but I gardened! My arms and back and shoulders and legs are all sore from digging in the dirt (and despite my best efforts, dirt remains under my fingernails and toes). It's little, it's young, but it's *our* garden. We even bought edging, so my herbs are separate from the grass. Strewn in the dirt along with the bigger plants are four entire packets of wildflower seeds, so hopefully in a couple of weeks we'll have little fledgling bluebonnets and other lovely Texas natives. I've got half a dozen plants left, and need some more soil. We've got big plans for stepping stones, bark to cover the parts that won't grow grass, and the leaves are finally beginning to show up on the trees. I can't wait for Maija & Ryan to visit now, because they'll hopefully get to see it all in it's first flush of growth.

Speaking of visitors, managed to grab a cup of coffee with a friend from LA in town for the weekend, and it's funny to see Austin through someone else's eyes now. Sure we've only been here a couple of months, but I see now that it was time. Whatever life we're making here, it was time to leave LA. I loved that city, and she and I were bitches together in the grand scheme of things, but Austin -- Austin's got this warm snuggly feeling, this relaxed and sunny heart, that doesn't really hold with all of that uptight shit. He said that I look happy, and I don't know if that was just polite hyperbole or if he truly meant it. Regardless, he said it, my heart lifted, and I grinned back. It freed something in me. I am happy here. Quite.

Other stuff happened. It may get chronicled. It may not. Isn’t that the way of it?

Yeah, I kind of wish it was in a naughty way too, but instead, it was all about dirt. Real dirt. The kind that squishes through your toes when it's wet, and smells great when it's tossed. Dark, packed tight, almost clay in consistency. That's what I started my garden in this weekend.

Two garden stores yielded up their contents to us, with pony-tailed women as guides to fragrant and fuzzy plants. And we've decided that we're planting an herb garden. No oddly bushy plants for us, unless they have sweet smelling leaves. We filled the back seat with pairs of lemon balm and rosemary, oregano and chamomile. And stacked the trunk high with fertilizer.

We walked it all into our back yard, and I realized for the first time the strange immensity of space. It's only a 36 x 25 foot yard, but when you're working with a small shovel and your bare feet, even a 4 x 4 plot is a little daunting. But my toes got dirty, my knees got dirty, my hands sorted weeds from soil and spaded little places for my babies to grow. And now, in one little corner of our yard, there are a couple of rows, and it looks like it could be a garden. It's weeded and turned, fertilized and planted.

Not everything's in the ground though. The light gave out on me. I'll have to wait till the sun rises tomorrow.

A cozy mix of good wine, bad smoke, and lovely company left me feeling happily content. It's as if, at the exact moment my tummy rumbled for food, someone said to me, "here, here's some lovely brie en croute, some fabulous fusion sushi, some lavender creme brulee and a bottle of Arthur Earl's Nebbiolo. And each taste was exquisite and distinct and persuaded me to appreciate how they complimented each other. My friendship tummy is full, and happily sated. Yum.

It's just one of those funny things you forget when you're bored with the daily hum drum of a job that has no ending and really had no beginning. A job that wraps you up in its painful regularity, showing an endless hallway of relentlessly unchanging day in and day out.

It's one of those things you forget to fantasize, when you remember the classroom spaces that were your favorites, your friends and brilliant teachers; that crazy mental hustle and bustle that you felt like you were just starting to appreciate when you left.

It's the thing that never shows up in those daydreams. It's the stuff that they never seem to write on the syllabus. It's the oil that makes the wheels of the brain grind smoothly.

It's homework.

And, let me tell you now, do not (i repeat: do not) get sick and slack off and put aside your homework. Don't do it for a day or an hour, much less a weekend.

Because it's a pain in the ass to get yourself back to the place you started from, that mythical 'ahead' place where you have plenty of time to study for tests and you get your papers done a day in advance. Don't put the books down for a minute because as soon as you do, you slip from ahead to behind, and you feel like you're clawing your way back up.

However, I did get (yay me!) an A on my linguistics homework and a B- on my first lit paper in 7 years. The sad part is that I got marked down for the grammar. And I deserved to be marked down for the grammar. Sadly, I just came from a job where I was an editor of sorts. Ye gods, TBG, you should shudder at what I left behind.

That not everything is a metaphorical Buddhist tale (although, I think I knew *that* one already). That the cute boy in my class, although funny and intelligent, and cute, is a troublemaker. 10 years ago I would've been intimidated into silence by that. Now it amuses me. I begin to feel like finally, this time I might get it right. Don't quite have 'it' identified, but i'm sure i'll know it when i see it.

I still grin walking to class at 9 am in the morning. I know, it's practically sacrilegious to be a student and awake at 9 in the morning, much less happy. And I'm on my way to linguistics. But, the smile creeps out, until it's a full blown showing of the teeth, the kind that calls forth responses from people I walk by. I love that - that instant smile they can't help, that tentatively darts out from their sleep walking features (everyone's always a little tired in the morning), and then gets bigger when mine expands in response. Smiling at other people is damn fine therapy for the soul.

So is being able to come home to a warm house, to feel blood return to frozen fingers and toes, and best of all, to have a wonderful, attentive and intelligent man ask you how your day was and listen, with at least half an ear, about your absurd social observations, revelations, and strange educations. Then to be able to turn on your computer and find friends there? Good friends, kind friends, wise friends. There’s no better joy than all of that bundled together.

this part, right now, every day, is the fun part. ye gods I love it.

Well, I've relocated. To LJ. From Blogger. It's a whole new and strange universe. We'll see what happens from here.

I'd love to say something profound and exciting, something that tickles your toes and delights your eyes, some piece of prose that makes you sit up at your computer screen and scream, "wow" into the quiet of your desktop reflections.

Instead, well, instead there's just me, waving quietly from the corner of your friend list (if you're reading one of those).

I'm wondering if the html becomes instinctual and the interface eventually moves from this sterile playground to familiar friend? I'm going through the growing pains right now, you see, the parts I truly hate, the evil *change*. And it's been the banner year for that. Going back to school, moving to Austin, of all places, quitting the job, getting loans, leaving beloved friends. I figure, why not LJ? So you'd think I'd be used to it by now. But I'm not quite there. Soon though. Soon I'll look change in the face and give it a big ass bear hug when it comes along, right? Right.

Still not *quite* there yet.