Treasure Spot

aaaaaahhh, Astoria.

Poor Sacramento

So dissed, all the time.
Sacramento, I love you, too. In a sort of slow and comfortable way. In a sort of safe and connected way. Before we were bound here by Jack's wonderful school/my rad job, it was only our dear and amazing friends that kept us around. And my mom, and Dana's grandmother- sweet, happy things like that. And then Dana suddenly had his own business that depends on his established reputation, and I suddenly had a job that isn't leavable under present circumstances, and the friendships have gotten deeper and lovelier... and years have gone by and we still haven't moved to Portland, or anywhere, for all of these excuses and more. But, Sacramento, you're just the right place for right now. Right? You feel pretty good. You're getting better all the time. Folks that have been lurking for years are finally stepping up and making businesses NOT directed at state workers and farm workers and sports fans and fancy ass governors. Places for the rest of us to go. Kindred spirits. It's going to get really awesome, right? I'll do everything I can to make it so.
This is our place now, and I am content with that. Except when it's 108 outside. Our time somewhere else will come. Who knows when... Who knows what will happen, ever?

Still crushing after all this time.

City of Portland and Portland Friends: I love you. MEGA CRUSH!!! I really have it bad for you.

It has been almost 7 years since I last visited Portland, a city which 7 years ago, I only stepped into for 4, maybe 5, whirlwind wonderfun weekends. That town really sunk it's claws into me, in the nicest nicest way. And by 'town', I mean the quality and quantity of happenings that I am interested in, the beauty, the progressiveness and maybe most importantly, the folks. Good, good, good folks, that I honestly can't get enough of. I have been trying to get back there all this time, and finally, in yet another whirlwind weekend, Dana and I were able to make the trip. I did some really really fun stuff, actually in Astoria, and Dana did some really sad stuff that was sort of fun, too, and this morning we met up to tell our respective stories and head back home. Let me say that it was a hard ride. We were full of emotion from our times and friends, and then also we were so overcome with the reality of being locked into Sacramento: We cruised the town a bit before we hit the freeway, teasing ourselves, trying to hash out ways that we could make living in Portland possile... and let me just tell you here now, that I cried when we pulled out of there. I wasn't too sure if Dana would make it without a tear, but he avoided that situation completely by laying his seat back and falling right to sleep- after a few head shakings of disappointment and some heavy sighs. I didn't mean to cry, but I was looking around at the beauty and thinking about the wonderful places (and when I say 'places' I'm actually talking about something much deeper) my life hasn't taken me, but then also all the wonderful places it has, and suddenly I had some tiny puddles spilling themselves onto my face. Just a few, and then it passed. And I thought, when this day is over and I step in my very own front door, it will all be a dizzy beautiful blur-- but it is crystal clear to me right now, every joyous minute of it. And the small sad moments, too.

Portland, you are a neverending dance frenzy inside my heart. Portland old friends and new: SO MUCH LOVE.

It's been too much.

Well.
I've had some moments since last I posted where I thought I had something to say. But all in all, I have been much too tired and overwhelmed to even begin to open up and lay it down. I can say it all quickly now, and come back to it later. Because I need to come back, and think and process and hash it out. Out of my mouth and out of my fingers. Maybe not here? I don't know yet.

Here IT is:
I was in a big and truamatic car accident. I am hurting and slightly freaked. I am dealing with it all quite well externally, but that doesn't mean I'm not constantly thinking about, and constantly drained by it. I lived through a month where nothing else happened for me but straightening out the accident. It wasn't my fault, but I did see it coming. When I said I lived through a month where nothing else happened, I meant nothing else but my favorite grandmother dying. My favorite Mammaw. My most favorite person of all time died two days after the accident. I have been so busy straightening out the accident, that I have put my mammaw and my crushed heart at the bottom of the list. I can't go there now. It's really, really complicated. More so than you can even begin to imagine.

There are so many things that we don't know about people. People that we interact with every day; people that we call friends. For instance, a lady I work with every day decided today to speak a bit of poetry to her favorite coworker, who is leaving to become a nun in Mexico. There's one thing: I never knew this second lady was even religious, and now she is leaving to become a nun. Really intense and beautiful. Then there's this: The first lady, the one with the poem, was the most engaging orator I have ever seen or heard. She was literally the most beautiful poetry or story speaker I had EVER SEEN. She had so much emotion in her voice and in her face, and her hand and body movements were like a dance. She is from Panama, and spoke in Spanish. Most of us had no idea what she was saying, but we were all sobbing. Overcome by her hidden talent, and how much of herself she was willing to share with us. To expose. I have never seen such a heart come out of a mouth before. From this woman who is so controlled and hardly speaks of anything but practicalities. HOW CAN WE EVER KNOW HOW MUCH BEAUTY IS INSIDE? Or, sometimes, ugliness. Everyday people. With things inside that we will never know about. Hidden by the everydayness of it all. Hidden by just trying to get along with one another; just trying to relate.

And these are the complications of which I speak. To think about my dear mammaw, I have to take a long and true look at some parts of myself that are mine alone. Some things that have been tucked away and not presented to the general public in a very, very long time. Which doesn't necesssarily mean I have to go there by myself, but... I'm too numb from too much all at once to go there yet.

So. here's a framework, for me to revisit, and try to get all the ideas a little more clear in my head and heart.

But there's this: It is silly and brilliant:
An email my son spent a very long time typing out, and put A LOT of thought and heart into:

**Hi simon weller you in for som rad stuf that you going to lov becaus you might lov in the hom and som stuf lik that you and som stuf that you might lov and I might talk with you in no tim so you might want to go on a rid with me and I might lik that well I no it is that if you want**

Which is all I intended to post in the first place, before I was overcome by long explanations of a short month.