Long Overdue

It's been a while, my friends.

And back, by popular demand(not), is a post where all the little strings of my thread in my brain come together - not to become some sort of fabric or item of clothing, but a giant ball of knots that only Maniac Magee himself could untangle (side note:  that book is still awesome, and you should reread it as an adult, unless you are a child in which case, i wasn't aware children read my blog.  actually I wasn't aware much of anyone read my blog.  except wonderful people.  if you are still reading at this point, i can say with 100% surety that you are a wonderful person).

Yesterday I walked home around 1:00 pm and just about everything about the walk wanted to be blogged.  But they were all different things.

There was the way that when you tilt your face towards the sun and there is a gentle breeze and life seems perfect that you can let the world be perfect in that moment.  There are a lot of moments like that in life, where you just feel good and everything feels right.  They are the tender mercies that I've heard about.

Also, right after that happened, this guy gave me this look like what the crack in the jack are you wearing slash I think you might be from outer space slash your hair looks nice.  1-2 of those things might not have been communicated in his look.  Then I realized that most of the time, I am a spectacle.  Coral pants and shirt that can only be described as ugly, but in a cool way and sunglasses.  then I realized that what is a spectacle without spectators.  And I gained new-found respect for you, my dear blogger-dom. 

I was thinking about the spectacle/spectator relationship as I found an empty classroom last night and danced in it with complete fear that someone would walk in on me for about half an hour.  Then I doodled on the chalkboard for another half hour.  It was largely productive and largely unproductive simultaneously.  I took a picture before I erased it all:

Betsy the elephant is probably the best friend I've had for the longest in my life.  We're going on like 8 years of best-friendship now.  That's pretty significant.  And sad.

Also, yesterday I dropped a class. My photography class.  Because going to that class feels a little bit like standing naked in front of the person you like's parents/the casting agent for skinny-model-agency/Adam Levine.  (Sorry, I was just watching the voice.)  Which is to say that just because I have no talent or experience in photography doesn't mean that you should completely disregard all of my work and make me feel like a waste of time.  It's not actually that bad, but it isn't exactly the supportive environment I had hoped for.

You know what they say about how to get to Carnegie Hall though?  Practice.  By which I mean, I am not giving up on photography, I am just giving up on that class.  But also, I mean, I have already sung in Carnegie Hall in my life.  This is not a joke, that actually happened.  This is a picture of me right around the time of that performance:

This photo could have been taken anywhere, but will you believe me when I say it was backstage in Carnegie Hall? Also, at least one of those girls looks really pretty.  And usually I ask permission before I post photos of my friends on my blog, because it's on the internet, but this picture is already on the internet, so I didn't ask.  Sorry Britt!  Love you!

This is now nearing that point where I've said most of the things that I can remember that I wanted to say and now there is not much more of a point to writing.  That's kind of the definition of my blog though.  

Yeah, man.