a dapple of my weekend, in dc

You know those weekends that literally feel like they only lasted about five hours and make you feel physically ill to see them end?

Yeah, that was this weekend.

Since we had a car in the city, we took full advantage of driving ourselves around everywhere, even if that meant giving up a perfectly good parking spot and sitting in Fourth of July traffic. At least we got to drive by Lincoln sitting up in his chair.

Since the weather was oppressively hot, we spent quite a bit of time by the rooftop pool, having breakfast and playing water games and drinking cold mimosas.

No weekend would be complete without Eastern Market of course, so we bore the heat for about 20 minutes, admiring doorknobs and tasting hummus and buying the late-in-the-day on-sale produce. We then went promptly across the street into an air conditioned shop and gulped iced teas.

And of course, we trekked to the mall with a million other tourists to see the fireworks above the monument on Sunday evening.

Not included in photos: barbecuing with friends in front yards drinking beer, kayaking down the Potomac (if only my camera was waterproof!), going to the salon for extremely intimate waxing sessions (yipes!), relishing in bars just around the corner from Rachel's apartment, deciding to go home and eat artichokes instead of bar-hop some more, and falling asleep during movies on air mattresses.

Oh yeah, and we were eating something delicious every other minute, just as it should be:

And then I drove home alone with my book on CD, sadly.

Reasons Why I Love Being A Grown Up

Number 3:

Having a party specifically to commemorate the year 2000 and being 13 again.

We did this by swimming in the backyard, eating pizza in our bathing suits, drinking lots of soda with no parents home, listening to No Strings Attached, watching a movie in the living room, and then having a sleepover.

Some days I wish I was 13 again.

But not really.

off to: dc

My oil is changed and my tires are new and gas tank is full (which also makes me now broke) and I'm ready to head to DC.

Or, the City of Sisterly Love, as I like to call it.

Enjoy your holiday weekends and I'll see you back here on Tuesday!

PS

Thank you for your all your sweet comments on my recent posts.....you don't even know how consoling they are :)

clarity

"Turning toward a large wave in the ocean is the best defense. Diving into the huge wave can save you." --Sark

"I'm no longer afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my own ship." --Louisa May Alcott

I've been searching for little moments of clarity in my life. Any ray of sunlight cracking through the blinds, a spot of green thrusting through the pavement, the tiniest stream of water trickling. All of these suffice. I welcome them with congratulatory arms and a wide smile, an inner patting-myself-on-the-back. Acknowledging moments of clarity is like praising a child for something seemingly small and arbitrary, like peeing on the toilet. Except they're not.

I realized that I wanted growing things surrounding me in my bedroom. I bought houseplants and pretty pots.

I realized that I wanted to pick raspberries from the bushes in the backyard. I brought a bowl and a book with me and lounged in a lawn chair afterwards.

I wanted clean sheets. I changed them, washed them, and put them back on.

I wanted green tea. I ordered it.

I felt drawn to read Rumi, to soak up his every word. I purchased The Essential Rumi, on Amazon, used.

These little cracks of sunlight and buds of green and droplets of water are not just that. For soon the blinds will be thrown open and the plants will overtake the streets and the floodgates will break. These moments of clarity will let in a million moments of clarity, and my layers and layers of clothing will be pulled by the threads, little by little, until they can be torn off and I'll be able to see my soul, pure and bare.

I just made a pretty sizeable rip. A whole ray of sunlight burst in, for I was able to witness the part of my soul that was whispering to me, yes! yes! you know what you want! And I realized: I don't want to go to grad school. My life right now is not about more schooling and social justice issues and confines and flat-broke-ness. I need to explore myself. My soul needs to breathe. I saw that my soul wasn't coaxing, or coercing, or shouting these things to me, either. It was just talking, plain as day.

Before it was starving, but now I'm offering it these little crumbs, as I listen to its words, and slowly, it's gaining stength. I'm gaining strength.

I'm pulling up my blinds, very slowly.

apology

I think I mentioned this a long time ago, and never came back to it to explain, but I've begun working in a new office doing new things with new people for the last two months of my AmeriCorps term.

Which means, CEOs and CFOs blocking any fun websites, including all those under the category of "Web Communications."

Thereby, all blogs. Including my own.

So my Google Reader is full of posts of pictures that don't load, and I can't even go to the sites to comment on the words. And once I'm home from work at night, the last thing I want to do is go sit on a computer some more.

So this is my apology for my lack of commenting. I'm reading, I promise, I just can't comment!

This has sincerely made me realize my infinite love for all you bloggers, though :)

let's become alive

I've felt an overwhelming need to surround myself with growing things lately.

Over the past week I've searched thrift stores for old pots and raided Home Depots for green plants. I intruded on my backyard with scissors in hand and plucked stems to fill vases.

My bedroom is slowly becoming the alive oasis my soul is yearning for.

A voice speaks to your clarity.
Move into the moment of your death.
Consider what you truely want.

Now call out commands yourself.
You are the king. Phrase your question,
and expect the grace of an answer.

--Rumi

awkward stage

Dear Jannalyn,

Aren't you glad we got out of our awkward stages?

To commemorate this fateful time, I made you some Muddy Buddies, hurray!

I'm so glad you come back "home" now, to play cards and drink made-up-cocktails with me every night,

and for even bringing your sweet little pup with you.

Let's go through many other stages together, okay?

Love,

Ruth

Tell me: do you look back on your awkward stage fondly?

a dapple of my weekend

No words, just photos.

imagining

Imagine a woman
who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who believes she is good.
A woman who trusts and respects herself.
Who listens to her needs and desires and meets them with tenderness and grace.

Imagine a woman
who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.

Imagine a woman
who authors her own life.
A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf.
Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.

Imagine a woman
who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.

Imagine a woman
in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.

Imagine a woman
who honors the face of the Goddess in her changing face.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life energy disguising the changes in her body and life.

Imagine a woman
who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.

Imagine yourself as this woman.

--Patricia Lynn Reilly

happy birthday, james

You just might be my favorite (big) little brother.

I love you.