I am trying to close the window. It is just past 5:00am and the morning’s traffic is rushing below our apartment and it’s just cold and just loud enough that good god, why won’t this window close. Alas, no luck. Wide open to the urban elements, and to the Bay fog, and to my sleepless frustration.

I was going to say that I seemed to have caught my fellow’s insomnia but as I write this he is sleeping soundly in the other room. So we don’t seem to be sharing this ailment as much as I feel it’s rather been dumped into my subconscious like a pile of sand and doubt and… whatever else comes with that. Hilariously, my dear fellow had opened every old window in our bedroom and turned on the fan to sleep comfortably in last night’s heat, but I think he woke up to the early morning traffic, plowed through the hall to use the bathroom and settled on the living room couch… all the while closing and opening about 18 doors. Do we have 18 doors? Did I just hear the closet? Is he trying to lock the bathroom from the outside? And thus, I am awake. (And let’s point this out onnnne more time - he is asleep. On the couch. Snug as a bug in a quiet dark rug, while I am battling the last of three sticky windows.)

So. Good morning. (And it’s been a while and all that jazz, so - HI I LOVE YOU.)

I’m not upset. Do I sound upset? I’m not at all actually - just the opposite, in fact. Here’s why.

Somewhere between my cell phone screen illuminating the seemingly HUGE and MOCKING time of 4:51am and that sticky window, I decided that it didn’t really matter that I was awake, that my day was such that I could nap if I needed to, and that it was actually way more fun to laugh at my fellow’s dinosaur habits (slam slam slam clomp clomp clomp) than to grumble over them. And all of this, again, at the HUGE and MOCKING time of just past five in the morning. I know. I’m so enlightened.

Two additional realizations followed:

1. I am absolutely grappling with a creative decision right now. I’m making some changes in my artistic world and they are exciting and scary and itchy and jumbled in the way that significant changes always are, and it’s been so funny to see how this decision-making/transitional process is manifesting in other parts of my life. For example, the other day I feverishly decided to go through my closet and “get rid of” all of the “stuff” that I “don’t need” anymore. (FYI, project abandoned early on and clothes live on closet floor.) Or the impulse decision that good god I need new pillows these pillows are old and uncomfortable even though I would like to replace these pillows with identical pillows please thank you. (FYI, no pillows purchased. Conscious decision to “research” before “purchasing” - awareness that I’ll just get ‘em with the next sleepless impulse.) But yes. See? The mental hubbub of the creative decision is spilling out into material things. I don’t know what I want musically, but dang it feels good to get rid of this sweater/blouse/rock pillow. So my morning insomnia just feels like another extension of that. Oh, did you want to be sleeping? Sorry, you have some anxiety to experience! Youuuuu’re welcome! But being conscious of the hubbub and the way it’s creeping into, um, everything, makes it easier to deal with. In that hello again old friend kind of way. I think. At this moment, anyway.
2. Furthermore, I am a person who needs downtime. Me time. Meditation, space, breathing room, whatever you want to call it. In college I remember not being able to sleep until I created that time for myself, which sometimes appeared as making mosaic murals until 3am and other times manifested as novel reading or Mallrats watching or music listening (old and familiar albums, nothing too stimulating). All this with piles of homework and rehearsals and work a-plenty. But sleep wasn’t happening until the downtime happened. I made my peace with it and learned to nap. So now I clearly still need that space, but my internal schedule just seems to have done a switchyroo - I pass out fairly easily but wake up and my brainheart commands semi-alert me time. So instead of hopping on my computer and starting to work, or eyeing that pile of clothes on the closet floor, or doing research on the best pillow my money can buy, I grabbed Goose and a novel I’ve been wanting to re-read and watched the sunrise. Suck on that, 4:51am. I’ve decided to enjoy you.

So here we are. Clearly this time has also granted a lovely opportunity for me to sit here and write all of this down - if only so that when I am exhausted at 3pm I can look back at and say, look how chipper and enlightened my morning self was! Right.

Anyway.

I would do a little summary here or a AND SO I AM GRATEFUL FOR ______ but I think it’s more important to relay that half way through writing this, I made another attempt and was able to close the window. But then the sun came up, it got warmer… and now I can’t get the window open again. Sigh.

And so I am grateful for a) laughing at myself and b) writing whatever the hell I want, without editing, without reviewing, and putting it on the internet after two plus months of ignoring a self-proclaimed daily blog. Because I can. Am. Just did.

How are you?

Hub-a-dub-dub,

L

Carpal Tunnel is a biatch.

hugs,

L

ps: oh. um, grateful for advil? ice packs? wrist braces? OH i know. Chinese Food! Unrelated, but delicious.

My body is so awesome at telling me to slow down. Really. I feel like my sinuses are one of those beeping alarms that go off in new cars when you’re backing up and get too close to another car or something. I get my engine going and I’m rearing to go and my sinuses are like BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Yeah.

Beep (sniff).

So I’m a wee under the weather, which is a shocker to well, no one, and I’m trying to be good to myself and sleep and nip these sniffles in the bud. 

I did, however, want to pass along an amazing video and kudos to my dear Emily, who choreographed and directed a FLASH MOB this past weekend for SF Pride.  In case you don’t spent regular hours on YouTube, a flash mob is a huge seemingly spontaneous dance that happens in a public space. The most famous ones were orchestrated at a few train stations in Europe, where music started blaring and hundreds of “travelers” busted out in an amazing choreographed number, only to walk away as if nothing had happened as soon as the music stopped.

So after a month of rehearsals and secretive word-of-mouth, about 60 of us gathered as spectators at the main stage of San Francisco’s Gay Pride Festival and when the music started…

Incredibly, the video went viral and was featured on this morning’s Huffington Post!! (Note, you cannot see me at all, I was holding down the back border on the left side. So you know, those people got an awesome view of my backside.)

So I just want to say thanks to Emmy (for her idea, perseverance, and dedication in this last month) and to all of the other dancers.  It was a true honor to stand up for marriage equality and I must say, more than the political strides made here, I felt like I was a part of the history of San Francisco in a way I’d never felt before. I have had the distinct pleasure of growing up in the Bay Area, where civil rights, equality, acceptance, and peace thrive — in many ways I’ve never known anything else.

So thank you, San Francisco. Yours is a bubble I am happy to have been raised in.

We go together,

L

How many times can a girl mention English Breakfast Tea in a blog good-GAHD!  Ok no, this isn’t about tea.

This is about Kara. Say hi to Kara.

Kara deserves an ode, but because I’m honoring the rule of five minutes HI I LOVE YOU, I’m just going to say this:  I love Kara.  Because she exudes kindness, warmth, energy, and soul - yes.  But also because we were at the hipsteriest hipster bar last night, and she tried to order tea.

Naturally, they didn’t have tea. So she settled for $6 Cab (a dollar cheaper than the Merlot!).  But I just so appreciated the effort.

Tea, dude. We go hard.

Hipsteriest hipster,

L

PS:  Photo by Emmy Zulauf, of Gunboats. Told you she was (multi) talented.

SENT. In the MAIL. From NEW ORLEANS.  From one of my most favorite people in the world.  Thanks, Alison!

(Not pictured: English Breakfast Tea.)

In the simple things,

L

Hmm, how do I write this and not go, you know, straight to hell. Hmm.

Today I received some very interesting news. I have to say that sometimes the universe delivers karma in the most beautiful package, all tied up with a bow, and even when it’s like, “Wow that’s terrible” it can also be, you know, “Muwahahahahaha.”  Yeah.  Ok. 

So something happened. I am NOT grateful that said happening happened.  That would be cruel.  I AM, however, grateful that as news about said happening leaked, FOUR of my friends called me simultaneously to let me know about said happening.  My friends know me.  They know me well. They know me so well that stuff that may seem like bad news for a normal person actually makes me laugh. A lot.

So basically, I am going straight to hell, but in the words of one of these friends, “You’re in good company.”

Karma’s a biatch,

L

For over a year, my fellow has been getting up earlier than any person in their right mind three days a week.  It was for work, and for a program that he started and really loved… but that has all but made him a crazy sleep-deprived pile of exhaustion for wayyyyy too long.  So today was his last morning.  Not forever, ideally, but for a good long while.  So that he can remember what it feels like to sleep regularly (and so that I can remember what he’s like when he sleeps regularly). 

Choosing to take care of yourself at the cost of giving up something you love is not an easy choice.  It isn’t.  And the realization that something you love is also hurting you, well - that sucks.  So today I want to acknowledge my fellow, and his courage, and his wisdom, and his strength in letting go.  I am so proud of him and so grateful to have such a smarty-pants in my life.

Three cheers for nap-time,

L

Remember a month or so ago when I was talking about actually recognizing where I am, and being thankful for the present?  Yes, now. 

Today was another one of those days.  I spent the day scoring my dear friend’s short film (made in the last two days for a 48 hour film contest), and now I’m off to a show which I’ll be reviewing for another article this week.  I am deeply grateful for both doing what I love AND taking the time to recognize it. 

Shooby-dooby-shnooo,

L

I was going to write about the banana bread I just made, but realizing that tomorrow is Dad’s Day, banana bread was vetoed for dad.  You hear that, Dad?  I vetoed my gratitude for banana bread.  This is a big deal.

Where do I begin.  How do you swallow a love so grand and type it out in minuscule Garamond (that’s this font, apparently - yes, I looked it up).  How do you even begin to express gratitude for your most favorite person in the universe? I don’t know. I actually don’t.  It feels too big.  Ok.  Let me say this.

Aside from his groundedness, his care, the gentle and affirming way he loves me unconditionally — aside from his brilliance, talent, and the ease at which he seems to put everyone who has the honor of meeting him — aside from his delicious cooking, contagious laugh, and the strength that unfolds from every breath and step and thoughtful word…  Aside from ALL of this, I am most grateful for what we share in this.  

You and your dad thinking the same shit is funny, 27 years later, is an invaluable gift.  I am so grateful.

Happy Dad’s Day, Dad!  I love you to the moon.

Choppin’ Broccolehhhhh,

L

PS:  Just for good measure: “There’s a lady that I know, and if I didn’t know her, she’d be the lady, that I didn’t know.”  Geeeenius.

Ok, so you know when you haven’t talked to a good friend in a long time, and you keep putting off the conversation because you want to find time for it — like, real time, time to catch up and ask questions and be all up in each other’s lives again?  And because this real time doesn’t really exist, the call keeps getting delayed, and before you know it you haven’t spoken to one of the most important people in your life because 5 minutes to just say HI I LOVE YOU doesn’t seem like enough?  Right?  Right?

Ick.  So totally what is happening with this blog.  I LOVE writing here.  I love how connected I feel to the folks I know are reading and I love taking the time to pause and be grateful each and every day.  But life kind of took off in the last month and suddenly I feel like I need to set aside that real time to really write and catch up and ask questions and be all, you know, gratitudinal.  And because this real time doesn’t really exist, the writing keeps getting delayed, and before I know it I haven’t been to this here blog I LOVE because 5 minutes to say HI I LOVE YOU just doesn’t seem like enough. 

Right.  Or wrong, rather.  Two things:

1) Real time really does exist.  It’s just about making some choices and re-shuffling and breathing more and busy-ing less.  I am aware.  I am aware.

2) 5 minutes really is enough.  All week I have been thinking of really fabulous stories to relay here — like the trip I took to my new “office” in Muir Beach last week, or my first music review getting published, or how my fellow reacted to my fully blown oatmeal-induced breakdown on Tuesday morning (short story: we were out of oatmeal, and I really wanted some oatmeal. hilarity ensues).  But in order to maintain this practice, I will not write epically every day.  (This is the part when you go, um, were you writing “epically” before?! And I say, YES JERKS, and you say, Ok, and we’re friends again and this blog is a hit!) 

In other words, 5 minutes is enough relay my gratitude.  It is.  It’s more than enough.  So my posts may not be the perfectly composed nuggets of wisdom they’ve been for the last two months (RIGHT?!) but I do intend to write daily, and sometimes they may look like this:

Goose, I am grateful that when I was feeling sad today, you knew just when to come over and try to sit on my face.  Thank you.

And then sometimes I may include a picture:

the best picture of Goose EVER.

Because it’s enough. It has to be.  It is.  I miss writing here too much for it not to be.  And you are too good of a friend to wait for real time to catch up with, well, real-time.

HI. I LOVE YOU!

Epically,

L