April 2013

Tonight I realized who he was. In this book I’m reading, I’m over halfway done with, and it clicked.

I know who he is, which character. I read the sentences, and slammed the book shut.

It is him. It is him and I feel as I did soon after he left me: used.

I was nothing. I was a curiosity.

Then I became part of the routine, the one it took him two years to break. Maybe he realized he was bored. And so he left. And thank God.

He was not unfaithful, but nor was he supportive.

I can’t believe it took me this long. I read this book the first time relatively early in our relationship. I couldn’t put two and two together. It is him. Is that the fate of an English major? I recall a Venn diagram I saw once, with “The curtains were blue” at the top. The left circle was titled “What your teacher thinks it means” and had inside: The blue represented his despair… The right circle was titled “What the author meant” and had inside: The curtains were fucking blue.

I read into things too much because I was taught to. But then I get lost in books, can’t relate them to real life. They are separate.

Until revelations like this.

I was nothing. I was a curiosity.

Needless to say, this evening has taken a downward turn. But tomorrow is another day.

But damn.

A sunset above the clouds is unlike any other.

At the edge of the horizon it looks like the ocean curling into orange.

The clouds all weave together, like softest snow. It feels like you could just walk right out on them, walk right out to the edge, where the sun continues its descent.

These little rolling hills of cloud, a cushion to the biggest fall.

A soft paintbrush has swept across them, cleaning any impurities for wisps of grey-blue whitecaps.

The closer you get the more you see how layered they really are.

Down. Down.

Engulfed in grey.

I just had to try to capture the sunset from the airplane. Had to. So it’s a bit broken, a bit unfinished. But here for you.

Last night I went to see Great Big Sea, a Newfoundland-based rock/folk band that has been touring and playing for two decades. Two decades! So they played two sets. And had two encores. And it was awesome. One of my friends came down and visited so we went together. The venue, let me just say, was stunning. Before Great Big Sea came on, I just ogled the atmosphere. Check it out!

Okay. So, the band. I was first introduced to GBS in 2009. I actually don’t even remember how I got turned onto them, but I caught a random concert of theirs outside on my last night of my internship in DC. I went alone and rocked out. I was also introduced to Carbon Leaf, who was the opener. They’re pretty awesome, too. Anyway, at this outside venue, GBS played through a big thunderstorm and I could see lightning but they were jamming so much I never heard the thunder until it was over. It was purely magical.

Alan Doyle just released a solo album called Boy On Bridge. I’ve been obsessed with it since my parents gave it to me – signed! From a concert they went to.

I heard several songs I’d never heard before, which was fun. Some favorites – Ordinary Day, When I’m Up, When I Am King. They also did some intense and amazing a capella songs. River Driver was – just, oh wow. Some new ones I really liked: Yankee Sailor, Gideon Brown, and I hadn’t heard Captain Kidd. Sean McCann has an intensely beautiful voice. Alan Doyle is the lead and he can make his voice do amazing things. But Sean has this quality…just, go listen. He did a beautiful song called Graceful and Charming (Sweet Forget-Me-Not).

Pretty much a fangirl post all around. Oh Great Big Sea!

Also, Bob Hallett can play so many instruments. So many.

I almost lost a cousin today. Some people did. A brother, a sister, a wife, a best friend, a son. Or are with them, grieving over the place where a limb used to be. Minutes felt like hours as I waited to hear back from her, checked in with other friends and family in Boston or running today. I can’t recall feeling more helpless or scared in years. More. I was sick, I was stressed, worried, trying not to cry in the middle of the conference room. Thankfully I was alone in there for some of the time. I wanted news. Then pictures started getting picked up by the media. I had to stop. Even after I found out my cousin and about everyone I know in Boston was okay. I’m still incredibly rattled. When I called her I got only voicemail and tried really hard to keep calm. It was chaos, she was letting others know she was okay. But how can you know? My heart goes out to all the runners, friends, and family members of the victims. So many people, from all around the world, were hurt or are grieving today. I grieve with you. Love.

They weren’t in full bloom today but I grabbed a few nice shots.

Seagulls flock the cherry blossoms

Seagulls flock the cherry blossoms

Nellie the dog is safely back home – New England home, not with-me home. I know I will miss her, but it was the right decision. Work is doing its usual of picking up the pace, and I’m looking forward to being able to be more social. I am not ready for a dog. I am so happy to have had a trial run, and she’s been a great dog to have. I’m very glad I didn’t adopt a dog and realize it wasn’t for me! Obviously I would have figured things out and tried harder, but especially now with hiking the AT next year, dog-less is good. I know I’ll miss her and it will take a brief adjustment period to not having her greet me every time I get home, but I think it’s better for both of us. She deserves more time outside of her cage, more time to run around outside.

My mom left with her this morning. I’m home now, and it’s quiet, and there’s an empty cage – no excited hairball to jump on me.

In a totally unrelated note, I’ve become obsessed with “Sorry” by Alan Doyle, of Great Big Sea.

You can’t unring a bell

You can’t untell a story

You can’t unbreak a heart

I’m sorry, I’m sorry