Home again

What a trip that was. I can't articulate where I am after it. It was kind of a whirlwind week, and while I was skeptical in the beginning, the time spent with family and the scenery and fun activities made this vacation memorable. I'm home, and I'm tired because of jet-lag but I can't really sleep. I was comfortable on the ride in (I was bumped to first class from Mexico City) so I didn't suffer any aches or pains after the ride. I constantly felt guilty, though, not being able to sit with Ate Faye. 

Anyway, I find myself in a strange emotional place after it. Maybe it's just a sligh displacement. I guess more than anything, though, I feel a stronger desire to figure myself out. Get things going, figure out my future, be a better person - more involved in my music and my art, less concerned with expectations or self-inflicted pressures that debilitate me. I just want to be - I just want to live, exist, and find freedom in being myself. I want to take the time to write and take everything in, and I don't want to gloss over ideas, just carving the outer layer to song ideas, or things that could be better-developed. I have become too careless with too much of this. I know I'm rambling, and I'm not sure how one topic is segueing, but I can't care. I'm tired and this is what's coming out! Maybe that's why I get so insecure sometimes... because I know that I could be delving more into things, instead of stopping before I've gotten my knees wet. And when I see that in others, I know deep in my heart that I should be doing the same.  

Here I go pushing myself again. . . 

Cabo San Lucas, Mexico

There is a vivid conflict in this place; one so obvious and omnipresent...it follows and haunts like a ghost. Here I feel torn between reality and built-up imagery. American bars and music, more white tourists than you'd think you'd see all the way down here, hawkers trained in just a few essential English terms: "Barrato...almost free." They've made sure Thanksgiving will be alive and well here, catering to the mostly Californian clientele, probably almost 100% American. They've been opportunistic with the local culture (who, the American capitalists or the locals - you decide). Mariachi bands that charge 50 pesos per song, tour guides with Mexican accents sometimes, I swear, that are exaggerated for effect, sombreros on sidewalks for sale to the novelty-seeking, a take on Mexican food that unadventurous putis can stomach. I can bet 100 bucks the food I've been eating is nothing like real Mexican food. Not the kind you'd find inland, or maybe off fishing villages on the Mayan Riviera.  

You have to strain to find the real things here. A sunrise and a sunset over the border of the Pacific and the Sea of Cortez, crashing waves and the rip tides that threaten mercilessly, desert canyons full of butterflies adapted to the dry climate, taxi drivers willingly sharing the stories of their lives - how they are paying their way through college, how many kids they have, who's depending on their hard-earned cash - a mariachi band member dozing off on a bench beside a local store, tropical fish - ones who aren't afraid to bite. I have a scar to prove it.  Floating hundreds of feet above the bay with lovers beach to the left, my feet dangling over a velvety blue water, the waves shrinking as I fly higher, higher. These things are there. But they're hard to see. 

I took a walk to the resort's edge, just by the beach, where the lights weren't as heady and the crashing waves bellowed in the distance, patches of stars peeking from a partly cloudy sky. I wanted to find some isolation; some peace in a place where it should belong. I heard them coming closer, four teenagers, two with cigarettes in hand, laughing, spitting, cracking open a can of beer. They were speaking loudly, to best the roaring waves, off on their own adventure. It was hard not to feel angry then. But I couldn't think I was any better. Wasn't I doing the same?

I think God's answers are always clearer in a place closer to nature. I wanted to just sit and listen; to speak into the howling wind for no one but Him to hear. I hope He did.  

One repose, just for a little while.

I don't know. I just don't know. Maybe things are getting more ominous because there's a vacation ahead... maybe I'm allowing myself to sink into such a negative state. Maybe I'm just too quick to let things get me down.

Or maybe it's this violent darkness overtaking as winter looms closer. I always sensed I was linked to the change of weather; I think it's only become more acute through the years. 

This Saturday was a blast from my past. I bumped into someone that was once a bigger part of my life for a few months...last year. Man, last year was a blur...back then, even now. I checked our history of wall conversations, feeling a little off-put by how our sentiments had changed. Where once was familiarity and casual talk was now politeness and a slight forcing of comfort. I see now that we really weren't meant to be, but that we were meant to be for that time. He was in my life for many reasons, even if it didn't work out or follow through. For a second, I thought that maybe I hadn't been standing still at all. If I look back a year from today, worlds have changed. Even though I feel the same, and have scarcely traveled as avidly as I did back then. Still, surely we can move while we remain physically unmoved. It's an amazing thing - time. It's a wonder that it will always defeat us; we are always merciless to how it shapes and makes us what we are.

One of those weeks...

When everything that can go wrong seems to go wrong. I spent half the week in a bad mood, constantly getting into fights with Rob. Mostly it was over stupid things: something he said or didn't say, something he didn't do that I believed should have been done, a habit of his that I found annoying. Then I got a cell phone ticket, for a most unfortunate two seconds of my life.  Then today's gig was almost a nightmare. I couldn't figure out how to sing Meaningless, thanks to not hearing the monitor and barely myself. I knew I shouldn't have even done the song. I also botched up a bunch of the words and got self-conscious with all the people milling about. It was just not a good crowd. I need to swear off gigs with bad sound systems, crowds that don't understand and other such things. I need to be more perceptive of gigs.

I'm starting to fear that I'm not cut out for this.

My band and I practiced yesterday and we realized how much work had to be done to get the songs up to par with the recordings. Not to mention the need for a fourth member - preferably a guitarist and vocalist in one. 

I'm fantasizing what life would be like if I didn't have to invest my soul, money and mind into such an ambition. I'm wondering what it'd be like to just worry about work, and a love life and the little hobbies on the side. I'm wondering if I could have had it easier at one point. I've always thought I was good at making things harder on myself. Maybe it's time to up and go. 

Sigh. I don't know. Maybe this week won't get any worse, but I'm not holding my breath.

Just hoping Mexico will do the trick to get me out of this funk and get me back into some perspective. God, help. 

Ay me...

What an expensive hobby music is. :-/ Let's hope I can get through this, and get through this big!

Yes, we did!

Sure we can't change all the problems in America by voting someone into office, but this can be the start of something great. We have given ourselves the opportunity to make something wonderful out of democracy. The American beacon of light shines stronger and brighter when it embraces diversity, strives to understand difference and looks toward a common goal. This is the proudest moment for me, for my country. And for once I can say, the last thing on my to-do list is to move somewhere else.

:)


Let's do this.

Get ready for Black Tuesday...

I'm just fearing the worst for election day. Fearing so much, I almost forgot it just turned November. What? How? Where has it all gone? It seems we age so much quicker now in our adult lives. What a shame...there's so much more to remember.

Anyway, I don't think elections will be the same. I don't think it'll take a day to count up all the votes, especially with the monthlong early voting processes all over the country...and I don't think it's going to be fair. I fear some will be disenfranchised (Fla 2000 anyone?). Oh it hurts to hope for the best so I'll just hope for something good.

Yesterday was Halloween, and it was an interesting one. Rob and I went to a house party in Nyack. Oh House Parties. Beer pong, pot, girls in skanky costumes... I felt out of place but not uncomfortably so. I think I've figured out how to be comfortable in my own skin.

Lorraine's last day was on Friday and it made us all sad. I came home in the morning and she was already crying, so I gave her a big hug and reminded her that she had her freedom and her travels to look forward to. Poor Lorraine. To be 63 and practically laid off her job that she held for 38 years, without the slightest dignity from an uncaring company...it hurts to think too long about it. She cares so much for the work she did, and she didn't get to go the way she wanted to. She lives alone and has her travels and her concerts and activities to occupy her. Now what will she look forward to without work? I hope she can still find a way to travel. If I had more money I'd buy her a Mexican vacation - she always loved Cozumel.

Which just makes me miss Isabelle more. :( Oh me... I'm afraid to call her, like a longlost child. Somewhat ashamed of not having called and unsure how to break the wall. Ah... how can I muster the courage?