Rainbow!


If you haven't heard of this event nor thought about going... we'll really never get along - sorry.

This place was so magical. It was a gathering of people who emphasized love and protecting one another in an act of sacred silence. I entered this event believing that it was like other festivals that I had attended in the past. But this one blew Burning Man, Stilldream, Coachella - everything - out of the damn water.

This wasn't just an experience, it was like going home to the tribe of my family members. Everyone greets eachother as brother and sister. But my partner is here now so i'll have to speak about it later. WOOHOO.

Off to Movement Play09 pretty soon.

I'm slowly boxing the things up in my trailer to prepare for my move which will occur late July. I really don't need to be preparing this early for the move but I feel I should start since Harold has already moved several things around in his house to make room for me and all my stuff. It'll be nice to have time to get used to his place while I don't have as many obligations to school. I'm not quite free yet though. I will be attending court on Thursday to FINALLY receive my sentence from the DUI I got in February. And on Friday I'll be practicing the graduation ceremony and attending the Anthropology graduation brunch. Then work, and a whole damn week of freedom! YESSS! I'll likely attempt to get more shifts at work, just to keep me busy and to have some sort of cash flow while I'm getting weened from the teet of UCSC's checks for being the Trailer Park manager.

I wish I could attend Rainbow Gathering in New Mexico but I'm having a problem negotiating the time. I'll be camping with my family in late June, around the same time that I'd be leaving if I went to Rainbow. Shortly after that, I'll help my parents out at the Galt Festival. I've made it out to seem like I don't really like it. And it is work, which I don't really enjoy, but I've missed working with my family in a way. Having been used to it for years, it is silly to think that I've been on "break" and will one day return. I will be helping out more, no doubt. I just hope I can do it some other way. I want to do what my mother does but in the Santa Cruz flea market or on Pacific Ave. downtown. Selling popcorn, cotton candy, and drinks. One person can do it, or I can have help. I'd do it everyday. It'd be a great form of income and I wouldn't have to worry about making too much money and losing my right to higher education.

Its been devastating to witness California close its parks and shut off opportunity for higher education for graduation students. Its like the world has become some big highschool and the policy makers are all the bully jocks that dictate to the rest of campus how the social world will play out. I want the nerds to take over just like in Revenge of the Nerds. Scientists, Mathematicians, Businessmen, and Economists are needed to persuade the rational, logical policy buttheads to invest in the real future, kids. Not in the corporate global future. I am still figuring out how I am going to make my mark. I'll be applying to lots of UC's CSU's, and some medical and maybe even legal programs. Talk about EVERYWHERE. I need to really buckle down and see what's best. I don't want to work with snooty legal people, but that is the most direct method to get the change I think needs to occur. I'd love to work with people, but I haven't liked math in years and I'm mediocre at biology (though it interests me). As far as the medical part goes, I'm thinking medical anthropology with an emphasis in dentistry so that I can go abroad and help people who cannot afford work they may urgently need. And dentists have relationships with their clients, another plus. And anthropology will give me a great background in relating to people and understanding difference.

Oh me oh my. Rambling on. I'm going to hoop now. I've been keeping up an average of 30-60 minutes a day to prepare for Movement Play 2009!

The tattoo parlour scene:

I anticipated seeing the unexpected when I walked into the tattoo parlour around the early afternoon on Thursday May 7th. The deal was as follows: 100 bucks for whatever the artist wants. I had two people at work that took up this deal and they were pleased and simultaneously excited about the subject matter which they surprisingly agreed upon. My boss Molly got a horse skull which faced up on her right calf and the bottom half was a black widow dripping blood. Jeff, another co-worker, got a panda tearing into a decapitated head of a man with a mustache and a monocle. I found this tattoo to be particularly ironic since Jeff is a strict vegan. Then again, the topic seems quite fitting to his unwillingness to love humans more.

We called it the Bagelry Deal from Love Dog Tattoo in Santa Cruz because so many of us have received the deal. In fact, a week after I got mine, Jeff got another tattoo of a lion with a monocle with "muahahaha its alive!" fingers. Again, the animal theme for the vegan. Fitting.

When I saw Stefan, a short white male with a newspaper boy hat and a Morrissey shirt behind the counter drawing, I was sure that he was working on my piece. He finally said, here's what I've got so far. Relief. It was a carousel horse with a rose and a moon. I partially expected something feminine because of the way I presented myself when I schedule the appointment. I wanted to make some sort of magical impression on him by wearing green and blue yarn braids in my hair and dressing in my flowing attire with a deep green scarf. I think it worked since one of his co-tattooists said, "You're pretty lucky, I've seen some gnarly Thursday ones and he gave you a pretty one." This was definitely true and seemed even more real when I saw the images he made of a woman with a mustache or the various pin ups that were killing themselves.

It took him two hours to perfect it. I looked at all the tattoo books that were neatly organized into leather booklets full of photos, not drawings. Then I looked at a few of the tattoo books of couples covered in tattoos, or specific art that people had made which were digitally fixed to an image of a fake body's back. I preferred the skin art.

I didn't take a book with me because I expected I would be very involved with the process. Also, my former tattoos didn't really take that long. Little did I know that 6 hours of pain would soon ensue. I looked around for something to read and of course, all the books in the shop were of drawing styles. I had already looked at most of the magazines when I was waiting, but then a book stood out. At the station across from Stefan's was a book of flowers. I looked inside and was pleased to see written descriptions of the flowers in addition to lovely photos. My leg was sterilized and I laid down to begin the process.

The outline never hurts that bad, but it kind of does when its that big and about 3.5 hours to complete. I had gotten to the end of T in the book at this point. I remember seeing the most lovely pictures of Tulips as he said, let's have a break so I can eat up this sandwich. I took a few bites of the egg salad sandwich I had bought from Zoccoli's which had made me 20 minutes late (which I later found out didn't matter. I should have gotten some chips too!). Stefan was ready after 10 minutes. What a champ!

We didn't really talk during the process. I felt kind of obligated to give him his space because it seemed like it would help to keep him focused on the art. Considering how pleased I was with the result, I'm glad I gave him that space.

When the shading began, I was very happy to have that book of beautiful images in front of me. When he was rub away the ink from a tender spot, which prepared me for pain because I knew he would then tattoo that sensitive spot, I searched the next page for the most beautiful flower to marvel over. This type of beautiful imagining is used in childbirth to help deal with pain. I held onto the pictures in my head as I made tight fists and blocked the pain from flowing to my baby. I feel I did this effectively.

Why did I choose to get a tattoo if I'm pregnant? Would this harm the baby? What are some of the stated risks?

I asked myself this before I got the tattoo. From the time I made my deposit of $40 to the time that I got the tattoo, I had realized that I was pregnant. The symbol of the tattoo, being an unchosen image that will stay with me for life, was a symbol of accepting chaos and the unknown into my physical being. This was exactly what happened when I found out I was pregnant. So I already had the emotional response of that chaos. I felt it was perfect for me to continue with that symbol in having it physically, to act as a reminder of the beauty of life as a mystery.

I believe that pain is subjective. I personally feel that pain is something that I am very capable of tolerating. I endured this tattoo with the help of flowers for 6 hours. I definitely felt it, but it did not compare with how I magical I was feeling inside with all that I had learned. This tattoo wasn't just a symbol for my soul, it was a marker of the child as well. In my mind at that moment I was becoming a mother and this was a part of the pain and beauty which are symbolic of motherhood. The accounts I read about mother's getting tattoos were never described as being events where miscarriage or problems arose. The women who posted advice online said that they did it and had a healthy baby. Also, these women said they were further along than I was. But I'm sure it wasn't a one-sitting 6 hour session.

That difference is one thing that makes me feel guilty and selfish. Another is that I signed the waiver from the parlour saying that I was not breastfeeding or pregnant. When I overheard a couple come in to talk about a tattoo, they asked why you can't get them because of those reasons and the owner said, the child can acquire adrenaline from the mother. ... Hearing this made me both excited and worried, but mostly excited. I'm enjoying this experience with my baby? What a wonderful gift! And only I have to feel the pain, the child just feels the rush... Hell, I would be so lucky :P

And despite the validity it may have here, I was blocking pain from my child. I held my left forearm at an angle pressing down against the left side of my pelvis. I continued to hold whenever there was any pain surging through my body. I breathed out and accepted the beautiful images of Passion flowers or Harold's Trumpet, thinking about the beautiful life that the child within me would one day live. I thought about the child going to gardens with me, the same botanical gardens around the world that this author did. I thought about how one day I'll have the story of this tattoo for my child and that he or she can know that they will be a part of my forever.

Its a week old now but here's the damage!

I have a heat in my body today and I'm not certain why. Its not a comforting one, but a nervous one. My body feels jittery and unstable. Whhhhhy?! *shrug*


I'm getting a tattoo soon. Its going to be "random," as in, the artist chooses the piece and not myself. And I don't get to make any suggestions. EEP! I'll post it when its done. It'll be sizable, ornate, and pretty damn cheap. Sounds like a good tattoo to me!

I'm a bit scared to go to Africa now that this Swine Flu is about. Ghana has people with AIDS, meaning low immune systems, meaning a very dangerous place to live during a pandemic. The world will take care of me as long as I'm aware of the things around me. I'm aware of this.. is it a sign? Harold bought me hydrogen peroxide for my drinking water when I go abroad. It kills anything in water so I don't get sick. *swoon* What a darling man.

I'm pretty sure we're contemplating a move to Alaska shortly after I return from Ghana. Maybe that's what is making me so wound up. Life is in full gear and I'm raising the ladder.

I had a conversation today with a colleague who was contemplating how she, an aspiring Anthropologist, would write about botany. She is on a Natural History Field Quarter offered at our school in which students from several disciplines come together to go to UC Reserves across the West Coast. These are pristine lands which are meant to be kept in a static condition. She can't talk about humans in her field because it is a class about environmental science, looking at the changes in flora and fauna over time. But this made me wonder about the philosophy of time regarding humans and nature.

Two ideas here:

Humans appropriate their knowledge on a linear basis because we live our lives that way. You see certain things that are cyclic in your life, but do you understand that that potentially goes on forever? Certain events may exterminate a species, but doesn't this give a reactionary rise in the food chain for other species to experience life in a new way? Is that meant to be the order of things? I feel that linear thoughts are inescapable to the temporal human mind. Circulating beliefs determine that: The Earth is coming to an END! .... Is it because there has to be one eventually? We don't know the source of the beginning. Our technology is fresh, complicated, and our laws of science have only been tested through a small portion of our civilized global consciousness. Yet to admit fallacy would be ... finishing. :P

And my second idea draws on the avoidance of unfinished cycles. I think that some scientific disciplines do not aim to correlate with cyclic processes. No human can relate to living forever or in a cycle of life. We collectively do not remember before birth or expect to understand what happens after death. Why, then, do we suppose that the Earth, galaxies, or the universe is on a fixed temporal sequence as we know ourselves to be? When cycles are discussed, its as if one sequence is representative of the whole, with some variant punctuated equilibriums to make sense of change over time.

I hope I'm making my point clear. Do you think a temporal approach to the sciences is informative?

Not sure how I found this... but it made me giggle anyhow.


School is approaching. I'm very excited to take African Dance, Community (My senior seminar), and Communicating Anthro... well... That class is going to be hard, but I'm ready for it.

o_O This is hilarious. I've become a little obsessed with ImprovEverywhere.com

It begins, 23.


My foot is just about entirely recovered, and just in time for me to start teaching Hoopdancing!

I have a beginner course and a hoop-making course which I will have to squeeze between my finals/studying for school this weekend. I'm very excited though. I've been out of the hoop for two weeks though, so I'll have to step it up, so to speak, before very long. I have recently started a youtube profile, seeing as how I should record my improvement and be more aware of my mistakes when hooping. I'll also use this format for movies when I'm in Ghana. It'll be a great treat!

I missed seeing my friends on my birthday, which ended up being sort of a blunder. Some weren't around, some didn't think it was a birthday party. Oh well... I had a relaxing time with my love and Jas stopped by for some fun conversations. Then a few days later there was some strange trifecta occurrence that happened in Kresge between Jas, Jillian and myself.

I'm still on the prowl for Ratatat tickets, but I'm giving up quickly since I don't really have enough to pay a scalper (likely overpriced!)

Onward.

Sleepless nights.



I'm starting this blog on the dawn of the day that I should've been born... a month before my actual birthdate. I'm not even aware until right now that my birthday is coming up. Maybe I'm forgetting it on purpose. 23. Ouch.


My mom is turning 50 tomorrow. I made her a happy-morbid DVD slideshow and I'm not sure how she will react. Last year we went to Massachusetts and visited my grandfather on his deathbed. He was delerious and fading in and out of consciousness but we wanted to be there... to at least say goodbye. I'm not certain if the video I made is beneficial or malicious. I acquired photos during our entire time abroad of relatives and him, Joe... dying.

I manipulated these photos, which I thought I did quite nicely, into a sequence that is quite chronological. Our flight down, our staying with cousins and aunts/uncles, then seeing him several times at the hospital. The only thing that seems wrong is "My Way" playing in the last sequence of my mother and I seeing our grandfather dying before we board the plane again, set homeward bound.

"And now (Slides of the hospital room start)
the end is near
and so I face the final curtain.
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain (picture of my mother and grandfather [him finally awake])
I've lived a life that's full (pictures of grandchildren and sons/daughters in group poses displayed)
I traveled each and ev'ry highway (children jumping on trampoline and laughing)
And more, much more than this, I did it my way"


I hope that's fitting. I hope when I send these copies to my cousins, uncles, aunts, grandelders... that this isn't morbid and rude. He died. I've understood that since now. This song is intense. I hope they don't have hard feelings towards me about this. He LOVED Sinatra. It just seemed fitting. Wish me luck.

From the CIA Factbook.



This ain't disturbing at all. We're at the end of the list.

Situation:
Me coming out of the bar wanting to sing off some alcohol with some local musicians.

Predicament:
Very sketchy bro walks up at 3 am asking if we want to buy some weed.

Side Note:
2 cop cars across the street.

So I am sitting with some homeless musicians making some wails and groans and singing to the chords and beats through a guitar and hand drum that they are creating... some random, very sober guy with a crew cut walks up and leans against the pillars next to us and throws one of the transients a bud... briefly. The guy who catches it says, "Wow... Thanks!" Then the tall white male asks, "You guys want to buy some weed?"

I carefully examine my surroundings with two cop cars across the street and this well-spoken white 30-something asking me in clear vocalizations if there is a sell here and I respond, despite wondering the motives of the people in this singing group:

"I think we're okay; but if I'm not speaking for everyone please go around the corner and do your business there because we don't want to be witness to any kind of crimes between a crew-cut older guy in front of cops"

He responds: "Why judge me because of my hair, you have dreadlocks!"

Oh baby... right away I smelt pig and I told him,"Again, no thanks! We don't want to be a part of this. But if I'm not speaking for everyone than you guys can follow him"

wow... I walked away about 15 minutes later after some more singing and within seconds of my passing I saw him talking to the cops across the street with nods and thanked all I could for this intuition that I possess.

*sigh* I think I'm ready for South Africa now.


..*I'm going to South Africa for internships and hula hooping practice in July *hip hip hoooooorah!**..


(((I just noticed that this community computer is set to 1970 and my previous 3 posts have all been inappropriately dated. I've fixed that. Read on!)))

Hmmm... I am listening to two fathers-to-be talking about their girlfriends and the stories they have when they were told and how they are going to deal with it:

They pause, one says "One day I was asking myself: let's see what I can get from the powers to be to keep me in Santa Cruz" then his gf told him that.

Another says, "I was raised Catholic... Its more cultural than religious... I was in Notre Dam and I was going to pray and I had scattered thoughts. I asked What?! I said I'll just give it up to your will... It was a week before I found out. It was really kind of creepy."

Silence

Ah this is fun over hearing this fun conversation.

"I really felt like that's what it was. It was a stream of desire ... Whether it was conscious and sometimes it was unconscious. Nothing was going to stop it. Nothing was going to stop it"

- "Yea it totally put a test on my nihilistic tendencies... like there isn't a purpose to anything? Last June I was asking why am I inhabiting this... piece of trash (Santa Cruz)? Now I have a sense of purpose. I don't think I've ever had it before."


Ah.... boys. I'll stop eaves-dropping now.

Enjoy? :D

(I've been practicing fieldnote taking lately for my Anthropology. I couldn't help but collect some information about a conversation between two men in between-places.)

*I don't think this necessarily counts as eaves dropping since I told them after I typed this that I was logging up their conversation on my livejournal because it was culturally significant and that perhaps someone else might read it and gain a connection.. So hah. Good Anthro work indeed!*

Accomplishments, sensory overload, hearing the world speak like I never became human... These things have expanded me...

then the ex gets a new girlfriend.

This has, for many people, including myself, always been an unsettling feeling, even when one has moved on to new love. It seems to melt a wax that has been left jagged and uncertain of itself into an attractive mold of the imprints left by both people.

The relationship was a plant and he and I were both blossoms growing from newly started stems. It seemed that his blossom was already fading as our relationship fizzled away. As a dying flower (to use this metaphor which hopefully doesn't bring negative connotation to the reader as I mean death as a process of life and necessary for evolving), I dissembled all those fibers that hold me to a world in which I no longer belonged (which is the atmosphere he and I created in a microcosm of love - of friends, events, history), and I was free to fall to the earth and decompose, bringing my love of life back to the world in its entirety. My seed has been taking ground and now I have a developing world with Harold but I know nothing will ever be the same.

MMmmm. I've been manufacturing poems and hoops. Both of which I have also been sharing with my community in Santa Cruz. I'm nearly finished with my audio documentary about Santa Cruz poetry; I shall post it here when the product is finished.

Today I hooped until my legs were bleeding.. I hadn't even noticed it. I think the scraped tape took a few scratches when I was jumping in and out of my hoop. All this talk of hoops makes me want to go outside o_o Addicted.

I've been researching aerial hooping and I wish I had nearby facilities to practice such an art. Soon... soon. For now I still have to round about my circus acts. Silks, soon. Poi, beginner. Hooping, advanced. Juggling, beginner. But it never seems to be enough. I'd like to do acro yoga while hooping... Ooo. Or slack line hooping? Hopefully not impossible.

Back to the circle.

((I added some twins from my new boyfriend's dreads to my hair. He's growing on me quite fast and I don't mind being idealistic with him about our potential future together. Wee-hip-hoorah.))

The trailer park is quiet. Note to self: Weekend of Thanksgiving makes for an EMPTY campus. Next holiday I'll have to remember to jump around the campus, stairs and such, making noises and singing loud enough to hear echoes layered over.

Okay, now back to circle.

I've been obsessed with this song lately. The lyrics reflect a lot of my life and have enabled me to pull through some hard times. I've been making a lot of private entries recently. No offense... I've just been scared. Please hear this song. It is beautiful and you will love it.

Lyrics to follow:

Joanna Newsom - Sawdust and Diamonds

from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?

there's a bell in my ears
there's a wide white roar
drop a bell down the stairs
hear it fall forevermore

drop a bell off of the dock
blot it out in the sea
drowning mute as a rock;
sounding mutiny

there's a light in the wings, hits this system of strings
from the side while they swing;
see the wires, the wires, the wires

and the articulation
in our elbows and knees
makes us buckle as we couple in endless increase
as the audience admires

and the little white dove
made with love, made with love:
made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers

swings a low sickle arc
from its perch in the dark:
settle down
settle down my desire

and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
though no longer bereft, how I shook!
and I couldn't remember

then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in
and cleft me right down through my center
and I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never

push me back into a tree
bind my buttons with salt
fill my long ears with bees
praying: please, please, please
love, you ought not!
no you ought not!

then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
and in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow

it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed
as I crash through the rafters
and the ropes and pulleys trail after
and the holiest belfry burns sky-high

then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
and in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
doubled over with the hunger of lions
"hold me close," cooed the dove
who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds

I wanted to say: why the long face?
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face

and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?

in the trough of the waves
which are pawing like dogs
pitch we, pale-faced and grave
as I write in my log

then I hear a noise from the hull
seven days out to sea
and it is the damnable bell!

and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
it tolls for me!

though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water
and they will recognise all the lines of your face
in the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter

darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
but if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?

I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
no, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright
so: enough of this terror
we deserve to know light
and grow evermore lighter and lighter
you would have seen me through
but I could not undo that desire

oh, desire...

from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?

Hahahaha.

Last night I had a fun time at Dana's place watching Titus. Newage Shakespeare films always mess with my sense of time. The old English, the motorcycles, the chorus-like child character who starts off in his kitchen killing action figures with ketchup and plate flying saucers whilst having a paper bag on his head.... then cut scene to Anthony Hopkins. Good, but strange. I also saw this spread from Scott McCloud's Making Comics:




AWESOME.

My morning was very bizarre. I had work at the Bagelry at 6am. I started the day cutting avocados for their delicious guacamole. I accidentally sliced my pinkie finger so I headed to the first aid box to clean up the wound so I could continue my cutting (with a finger cot of course). I used an alcohol pad a few times to clean the wound but it just kept pushing blood out... and pretty quickly at that. When the blood started to run down my hand I figured I should run it under water a bit to have it slow the bleeding and clean the wound more than just some alcohol which seemed to make it bleed more. I started to walk toward the bathroom and felt disoriented when I had to unlock the door outside the hallway where the bathroom was. The dizziness started there. When inside the bathroom I let the faucet run full force and placed my finger under the water. I looked at my fingertip bleeding and felt very dizzy. The next thing I knew I was on the floor with my hands to my sides not knowing where I was. I felt like I had a mixture of passing out and falling asleep. My finger wasn't that bloody so I don't think I was down for long; the sound of the faucet still running was what woke me up. I stood up, barely being able to walk and headed to one of my coworkers and told him what happened. Juan was really awesome and told me to sit down and gave me some orange juice and a slice of toast. Unfortunately the toast had raisins and the orange juice seemed a bit acidic, which made me want to throw up. I asked Bryn to assist me to the bathroom since I felt like I was going to throw up. A few gags, ew... but nothing came up, so no worries. She asked if I was pregnant and I chuckled stating I was on birth control, not that that makes me not pregnant, but I think a better answer would've been that I just got off my period yesterday and I haven't been sexually active recently. Needless to say, something went wrong and I took off work for the rest of the day.

I've never passed out before. I've been very excited and full of energy; it almost seems like its an endless supply. I was thinking about stuff that I had learned from Chris about channels and how perhaps I triggered something deep that made my body shut down. I am coming to understand that all wounds happen for a reason, whether intentionally or not. I have a very busy couple of days coming up with my family's business where I'll be moving around from dawn until dusk at 3 locations that are all 30 m. from eachother. Its going to be pretty draining, and its a good thing that today I'm taking it easy. Its difficult to lift things and I'm needing to tell myself that today I can't clean boats, even if I want to. So I'm going to the harbor to tell my boss about my predicament and hopefully he'll understand or at least I can clean things he absolutely needs to get done. I'd feel like a bad employee if I'm enjoying the perks of the job without doing the job itself, but its starting to appear that way and I don't want it to be the case. I'm going to clean up my trailer, pack some stuff, and head out.

On another note... though I don't kiss and tell, I have a story in my energy field right now that's making me a happy skipper. Harold, Chris's ex's ex is a swell guy and quite the kisser! :x And the other guy who was my "prize" that I had my eye on has been calling me lover despite us barely knowing eachother, so that's gotta end. Egads, twice. I miss hanging out with my bitches. I'm going to see if Ashton is in town. She's a good energy and I miss her. That is all.

Hmm, so that guy that I wrote about yesterday (the one that was Chris's ex's ex) apparently sought my number and wants to have drinks or something. Hmmmm... I've been feeling pretty excited about life.

I'm listening to some funky harpsichord music and about to pass out from my long day of hula hooping and gigantic drum circle goodness. I love the farmer's market. I wish there was one every day o_o (Which there technically are probably, but not all of them have drum circles as background music.

I think its kind of bizarre that all of my friends became single within a few weeks of eachother. Kassondra and Larry, Dominica and Jeff, Ashton and Dan.. I suppose its time for us to have a great summer. *grin*