the family is off to mexico

It’s my first time south of the border, though  national boundaries are sorta arbitrary, aren’t they.  My home did use to be Spanish territory.
One thing is for sure… I won’t need no electric blanket in 80 F, 90% humidity:)

dream

I was doing a project in which I had to practice and photograph in the gymnasium. The gymnasium was a sort of mix between West’s new gym and the contemporary arts dance room, and I had to strategize how to use it when no one else was. On the way inside I had to pass a “camp” lunching on picnic tables. Because I was doing something out of the ordinary, and sort of stuck out, I felt like I needed to entertain the campers. It seemed to be working; I think they all thought I was goofy but I was happy with the response.

all I need to know

The other day, I went far into the foothills across the street from our house with the dogs. There was a time that I did this every day; growing up I don’t think a week passed without an expedition into the wild hills. Yet I hadn’t been in almost a year. Oquirrh, Sophie, and I went over the first hill, up along the ridge, into the luge of Perry’s Hollow, briefly through the Car Graveyard, and back home through the streets. It had recently snowed, and except for the very rare fellow hill-lover, the only sounds were magpies, scrub jays, and the jingling of the dog’s paws and tags passing by so quickly that they almost created a Doppler effect. Little Black’s Peak was partially covered by a cloud and it was so beautiful that I waxed poetic.
I wondered if a lot of how I feel about relationships/ life I learned from the dogs and the hills. It is the time that they get to be the most free, and I can’t help but be infected by their joy. I jog or walk when I feel like it, they jog, walk, run, and roll as they please. If I leave them behind, they catch up, if they go far ahead, we meet again eventually. I call out to them every so often, probably for comfort, and once in a while they run up to me and let me gush and pet them all over. The trail may be pristine, or it may show signs of mule deer hiding nearby, but the dogs have no fear of leaving tracks and joyfully run and roll all through the fresh snow. Ice, mud, and snowballs stuck between the toes could never limit their exuberance.
The old cars are still there, maybe only slightly more empty and rusted than before. The Leaf Glade is as usual stunning, Snake Valley is smaller than ever, and the Root Pit is still (though barely) distinguishable. There’s no sign of the hut my friends and I built there when we were younger, but there is an abandoned mattress in the middle of the valley.
I’m always amazed that even the small trails remain year after year… I can’t be the only one to walk them.

dream

The pipe band organization had a parade, so we all gathered on the side of the street. The street sloped and had a short wall on the side to lean and sit on. I saw a grade 1 drummer and a grade 1/2 drummer go off to a grade 1 meeting to discuss music changes. I wondered why nobody told me about this meeting and decided I wasn’t really invited. When the two drummers returned I tried to be nonchalant and cheerful, but I felt a little insecure. For some reason I had my laptop with me, and I asked for the grade 1 drummer’s email because I hadn’t been able to send her my mass xmas email; she gave it to me and I wrote her a message saying hi.
After a while the bands started separating. I went to my old band; the pipe major was there and a few other members. But they pulled out trumpets and trombones, and my pipes seemed to have an extra stock. I thought I had forgotten my blowpipe. I took a cab away from the site, and picked up a drunk Nathalie along the way. She curled up in the fetal position and slept. I had the impression that we were in India.
For some reason I had to get out of the cab. I left in a rush and jumped on a boat travelling along a street canal the other way. On a platform of the boat I talked briefly with a hobo, who had a big nalgene bottle with orange flagging attached and a note about nestweb. He said he’d picked it up in the woods and described a site I recognized from the summer. It made me smile.
I realized I’d left my pipes in the cab. I didn’t know where the cab had gone, but I got off the boat and tried to go the other way, hoping the drunk Nathalie had picked the pipes up.

my family, on the way home from the airport

sister: Okay, so we’re going to meet at Squatters for lunch tomorrow at noon and then do christmas shopping?
self: whoa there. Why Squatters? Why not somewhere a little more vegetarian/vegan friendly, like Oasis, or Sages?
brother: I agree. Or that one place with the buffet…
self: Oasis?
dad: I want to go somewhere with food!
brother: no, it’s like Oasis or Sages but
self: Oasis?
dad: I want to go somewhere with food!
brother: but you pay however much you feel like paying.
self: Oasis?
brother: no…
self: wow, not Oasis…
dad: I just want to go somewhere with food!
brother: One World. That’s what it is.
sister: I want to go to Squatters.
mom: just like old times. can’t agree on where to go.
sister, sadly: well, I want to go to Squatters, but if everyone wants to go somewhere else then I guess that’s fine.
self: Sister, you made this decision without any input or consent from anyone else.
sister: Why am I all of a sudden the villain in this situation?
brother: Sister, when you bring an emotional appeal into an argument, you illicit…uh…
self: it’s passive-aggressive. your argument loses validity.
brother: so sister, you want to go to Squatters. I’d be happy with One World or Oasis or Sages, but Squatters would be okay too. Selfsister, if you had a second choice what would it be?
self: I guess it would be between Oasis and Squatters.
brother: then because it shows up in each of our preference lists, we should go to Squatters.
sister: so it’s settled.
mom: that’s great, because it’s so close to work.
(long deliberating over flusteredness pause, I mean, long enough to arrive home, go to the bathroom, and have to holler to be audible)
self: Brother, we’ll go to Squatters because that’s what we decided on, but there’s a fallacy in your argument.
brother: it wasnt an argument.
self: then in your logic. I had to choose a second choice, but Sister didn’t. if Sister had a second choice, she’d probably choose Oasis, and we’d go there.
brother: Sister did have a second choice, it was “anywhere else”.
self: if I didn’t have to choose one, we would still go to Oasis.
brother: good point. Sister, if you had to have a second choice, what would it be?
sister: I guess Oasis.
brother: then you’re right. Thanks for pointing that out, Selfsister.
self: thats right. don’t push me around.

And addmittedly, happiness and self satisfaction FLOWED just because I was “right”. Squatters was delicious, surprisingly veg friendly, and we all managed to get along okay. And in retrospect I could be a whole lot nicer to Sister.

hello world!

welcome.