twilight

Hello little quiet part of the world. You haven't seen much sleep and neither have I.

train

I sat flush faced waiting for the Iowa-bound Amtrak, calming my mother's nerves while maintaining my own. Like a switch-flip I'm waiting on the train and a familiar face is approaching- her seat is next to mine. Why are the first two things that come to my head- "woah" and "wtf"? What would I have thought thirty years ago? Most of my time lately has been spent cooking or packing or in transit. Do you think you can express yourself through flavor in the same way you can express yourself through an instrument or through an image on a piece of paper? I am particularly fond of the way cinnamon, red pepper, and mustard seed go together with paneer cheese, lentils and spinach. They were fast friends. I'm more and more aware that it's impossible to be in anything but transit.

Some things I know include (*except this):
(1) The lyrics to 'The Pretender', Jackson Browne-
I'm gonna rid myself of love
in the shade of the freeway.
Gonna pack my lunch in the morning
and go to work each day.
And when the evening rolls around
I go on home and lay my body down.
And when the morning light comes streaming in
I'll get up and do it again.
Amen-
Say it again-
Amen.
I want to know what became of the changes
we waited for love to bring.
Were they only the fitful dreams of some greater awakening?
I've been aware of the time going by.
They say in the end it's the wink of an eye.
When the morning light comes streaming in
We'll get up and do it again.
Amen.
Caught between the longing for love and the struggle for the legal tender.
Where the sirens sing and the church bells ring
And the junk man pounds his fender.
While the veterans dream of the fight,
Fast asleep at the traffic light.
And the children solemnly wait for the ice cream vendor.
Out into the cool of the evening strolls the pretender.
He knows all his hopes and dreams begin and end there.
(All the lovers as they run through the night)
(Leaving nothing but to choose off and fight)
(And tear out the world with all their might)
While the ships there in their dreams sail out of sight.
I'm going to find myself a girl who can show me what laughter means.
And we'll fill in the missing colors in each other's paint-by-number dreams.
And then we'll put our dark glasses on-
And we'll make love until our strength is gone-
And when the morning comes streaming in
We'll get up and do it again.
Get it up again.
I'm going to be a happy idiot and struggle for the legal tender.
Where the (*not this word) taking and lay their claim to the heart and the soul of the spender.
And believe in whatever may lie in those things that money can buy-
Where true love could have been a contender.
Are you there? Say a prayer for the pretender-
Who started young and strong only to surrender.
Say a prayer for the pretender.
Are you there for the pretender?
Say a prayer for the pretender.
Are you there for the pretender?

(2) Bonsoir, je suis Whitney. Je suis enchantée de vous voir.

(3) Simple algebra.

(4) a. That octupuses and octopi are both gramatically correct. b. That octopuses are the only cephalopod to be conclusively known to use tools.

(5) On A Clear Day You Can See Forever.

i wonder how many among us have been to the chicago public library on the top floor, american girl place, and temple in 12 hours?
i'm in need of guidance, or some such thing, because the noises in my head are many and loud and possibilities are endless. instead of feeling boundless, i need to find my limits. i think my search for guidance, though, is sending me on a tour of chicagoland temples which may further extend my bounds rather than create them.
temple no. 1 feels churchy and kind of cold. modern brick and flipping through pages to find hymns feels like my monotonous childhood experience with church. i don't like pointed questions about guilt when mentioning how i feel guilty when asking others to donate their money.
what i dooo like is singing in another language off-key, dharma students whispering to their dad when they know an answer before saying it aloud, bird and sun references, and the gong.
also, post-service tea time.

someone touched my shoulder at sunset as if they were a friend, and when i turned around to see who they were i did not know them. i said, "oh..k", and they said absolutely nothing but stood there and followed for approximately one block before they decided to turn around. the surreality added to a completely uncertain shift in perspective. like paranoia in being followed. then some awesome dudes harassed mike and i on a bench waiting for a restaurant to open. then screamy people were screamy and screamier. i haven't felt so paranoid en mi ambiente desde argentina. i am not digging you, iowa city.

humans are the oddest of all. more odd than a sardine in a can or whitewash. brains may be more vapid than circuit city during its final days in business. there is a photo of mao on the wall that may be speaking to me. it is surprisingly comfortable. he doesn't say much.
i may very well be slipping through a mental crack when i go to sleep. each time i wake up remembering quite everything. the quite is very important, quite everything. they are being stored as memories, and it is contributing to this new grasp of reality that may just be a tuft of hair leading me but not to rapunzel. new york is inconceivable at this point. april is inconceivable. but mostly it is mao as incomprehensible as ever.

thoughts on the animal kingdom or some such

Wolves are very important. I am thinking on the man in Valparaiso with a crew of three wolf-like canines. I bet he is very important too.
Sometimes when you meet a balding dog, you never forget him. This is also very important. While wolves are tough, some dogs lead rough lives and should not be left to the dust!
I am going to war with the cat across the street who is really out of line and harassing my cat. It is very important that I employ an effective strategy on the offense and defense end. I may find statues of wolves and audio of horrible growling and thrashing sounds to insert on front porch. He must be taught a lesson.

I hope to bring the prarie to the city one day. Harvesting vegetables is extremely satisfying but not as much as weeding. I like to think of weeding as an act of heroism! I like to think of harvesting as an act of piracy with loot of VEGETABLES!
I have learned that some families on farms call their pigs ham, cattle hamburger, and the like so that their kids can understand them as something other than a pet. There is a cow you should meet whose best friend is a runaway show pig. I have seen cats play dead when getting roughed up by brutish dogs. I have seen larvae slither in the sun and taken a liking to fire ants! Wild roots, wilder ness.
As little bits of Iowa return to their prarie roots: http://www.inhf.org/prairiemgmt.htm
Free posters with prarie restoration information available through the Iowa City Department of Agriculture (in case I am not the only interested party).