Rest Stop in New Mexico

Melba sat in the drivers seat in the sun. It was warmer inside than the outside cold air that hangs around Berkeley in the mornings. She watched the pedestrians around her, the skateboarders, pavement bicyclists and joggers keeping warm. Juxtaposed on the street were two men, one man was dressed in a blue shirt pressed and crisp as if in that minute it had been taken out of the laundry bag from the dry cleaners. He is talking on his cell phone, pacing back and forth in a 10 ft area. He is on the east side, with the sun shinning on him. On the west side is man in the black pea coat, he huddles in the mixed light, slightly blocked from the sun in the shadow of the building, he too is on his cell phone, he is not moving. She wonders why we all behave so differently from each other, why we don't always see the easy way, or why we don't always choose it.

Adventures aren’t all comfortable is what she’s telling herself, that’s why they’re called adventures. They’re up and down and much easier when you don’t drag around a lot of stuff to cope with, both in your mind and in your suitcases. She’s giving herself a pep talk, the type she’d give to anyone who would listen if they were doing what she’s doing. She’s fixing the moment because it doesn’t feel upbeat. It feels like she’s crying, though she's not and she’s not wanting to go there. It’s easy to get lost in a city and even easier to get lost in one’s mind.

The sun reminds her of last week, sitting in the car in Nevada watching the sun change the skies and tree's colors, even on the buildings, it's happening every few seconds. She drove around the parking lot twice, She's pressing the button on her new SLR. On the second drive around as she passed the adobe picnic building, she saw the reflection of the car after the fact. Then she backed up and from inside the car, it too warmer than the outside sun setting evening, she snapped the moment. It looked like a picture inside of a picture, that's the way her life seemed today, a life in someone else's life.

Blue Sky list, not fiction

I want to be grateful
I want:
to remember the love all the time
warmer days to stay around with bluer skies
my smile back intact/my chest bones opens/easier breathing in and out
more laughter/let go of concern
25 hours of work per week that pays me better than ever
a bedroom of my own to close the door to
my house to rent to the right tenants ASAP
my own clear boundaries
good diet/food
lots of music, movies, art
walking time everyday
invitations to be where people congregate in comfortable living rooms
not to be judged for anything other than being myself
to give without losing myself
a woman's writing group
to remember peoples names
to get in touch with contacts given to me by friends
time to get the letter off to mom
to be safe each and everyday
to remember charity everyday

the sign

She's still thinking of Blue, she turns and the blue car, washed by yesterdays rain could clearly mean nothing, though she will give it a story.

They dash out of the door, the buses on San Pablo only run every 20 minutes. They thought they could sneak in a coffee while waiting for the bus and they do, coffee cups in hand they catch the doors as they are closing and get on, laughing at each other's breathlessness they sit, kissing with coffee breath. Peeling off a layer of hat or scarf they drift into silence. He's worried about the car, there's been too many expenses this month and he doesn't like how money leeches his sense of providing for them both. She's got her job, and she'd feel slighted if he told her he's worried because she feels he doesn't value what she's doing, but he wants to carry more than half the weight. It's nothing more than pride, he knows he's setting himself up.

The thought of leaving the timing belt un-repaired and using buses is appealing right now, parkings always a bitch, too often someone is finding his space on the block on Dwight Way, where he has all day parking. He likes that the bus goes close enough to his studio and the walk to and from home makes up for no exercise he's been getting since giving up the gym. Giving up, they're both always trying to figure out what to give up. The coffee out? no, it makes them feel rich to see the neighbors and friends, and the friends with kids, they can smile and be pleasant with the kids eating biscotti without having to sit in their houses while Molly/Brent or which ever child whines for more food, more attention, more cartoons. They don't want kids. Thats an easy choice right now, They see how thats the worst possible financial decision for them. They've already given up ski trips, and they might give up the Sunday paper. But the car, no wheels, he slides into the thought, no car for going to see the music, the stuff they've been getting into lately which is not playing locally, it's a hard one, 'fuck the money, we need the car, we'll cut corners somewhere else' he thinks, he turns to her and smiles, he loves looking at her lately, he loves how much he's come to brush her cheek with his finger, waking her in the mornings the same way each day, her downy hair from her ear to her jaw bone, the few freckles there, distinguishing her cheek from other cheeks.

she's been self indulgent, like a piano making melodrama, she's been over sensitive, over whelming others and herself, like the black keys pounding louder than they need to. Isn't it allowed some times, isn't it her prerogative, to be difficult if that's what she's wrestling with. Last night she was crying into his listening, tonight she's looking out of the window orange/red dots reflected into the raindrops dripping down the picture window, dropping as fast as her self indulgent tears from last night. Only tonight there are no tears, only detached views under the rims of her glasses. She told him right from the beginning the truth, she couldn't give herself.

She didn't want to go there, but then she wanted to change how she is, to give more than she can. Why not, some people say she's too giving but he won't agree. He'll say she's too selfish. Maybe she is, or maybe she finally wants what she wants without fear. Without fear is what lets her talk to anyone, anywhere. It's why he wants her, she's without fear...most of the time ...it's what let her rub her hand over Helen's back tonight, to say "I'm sorry" with no words.

Blue where are you when she needs you? And they don't call her, the men. Are they afraid of her what? Her what? What are they afraid of? The lioness, the hare.

Back to Blue, tell me about my prodigy, what do you see? Is there something I can do? Is there something I can relay that will stop the events from happening before they do? What if I don't think, what if I trust. Yes, I didn't make the bus, not today, and I can't plan for tomorrow. I can't plan for anything. It's out of my control, even though I want to convince myself and all of them that it's up to me. Indulgence, I'm indulging myself. It's where I started. At 23 wpm. Looking up and out one last time, there's a funny man, he's waving under the umbrella dripping no tears, only raindrops, and smiling.

Tomorrow's Saturday, chick day, chick calls, free minutes, maybe less rain.

Blue didn't call, the day after or for three more days following that. She didn't know what it was that pulled her to him. It might have been that she was drawn to his world of make believe, when hers was too helter skelter on it's own, uncomfortable in her world, someone else's crazy is soothing, it gives the illusion that her own life is normal.

She thought of driving up to Telegraph looking for him, but she wants to travel around town on the Bart anyway. In someway today she'd make it happen, maybe Perry, the manager of her storage unit would be willing to show her around, it's his day off and he likes walking, this might be a way of killing three birds with one stone and she's moving in three's these days. Three men, three rings, the list is endless, trilogies of life.

Drinking tea she sat smiling at the thought that, when she'd opened her P.O. box the Tennessee counter clerk had sent her on to get her box saying in front of all the line of customers, "tell Maria I said you're cool". It wasn't what she'd meant, she'd meant that I'd passed all the requirements for the box, but this is Berkeley, it's where cool is cool and the clerk speaks in song and the stout man walking into Trieste has eyebrows bushy and wild that stick out two inches, that is his cool. We all have our cool. Hers is the hat right now. Berkeley is where the mind reader in the blue hat - says "they know me as 'blue' on Telegraph if you need to find me". He's really old money from England and a crazy artist, but maybe really makes money from his art, which he says will scare her. He says he created a good deal of the Star Wars metalworks, she wants to see it. He knows the Angel Pub and he knew the pond was gone and he knows Dick Turpin was not hung at Tibbits Corner, he knows they dragged his body there only after a judge told them they should have hanged him at Tibbits, but it's too late because he's already dead. He's told her that he can see the distinguishing mannerisms she uses and knows what part of her brain she's using, and that she is unique. Of course that works for her. "We used to cut up the brain you know, dissected them, we know what's going on there" and it's interesting to listen to him, even though he's crazy. In any case after that he tells her they're like sister and brother and that will work for her. How many characters can you gleam in a day - all of them she thinks.

Thank you for everything....it's Hard to leave

Today I'm 57, not 47 as previous typo'ed.

My apologies if you are checking to read some news, there is just no time to write, I'm still packing and a day late outta Dodge.........but it's been a lovely few weeks being here and feeling very loved, I will miss you.

The party was so sweet, thanks for all the food and good company and belly dancers, singers, cooks etc and we've collected over $800, a thank you letter will be in the FWR,
also as soon as there's time to write I will also post many many photo's that Phil took in FF, wonderful ones, everywhere with all of you,
More soon, love Debs

photos will be posted in a day or two.....

please come to the party, after the 10th I may be on 'blog vacation' for a week.

sunrise skies
gray and blue today
like corrugated cotton balls
I'll miss this mornings facing east
looking as the sunrises
with tea beside me
now Rooibos, less robbing
the body of calcium is what I'm trying to do
sometimes i don't free write at all
if only i could type as fast as my thoughts
well there's a reason not to keep saying
I'm still not touch typing yet

New Years in Iowa City, with Phil and Resolutions

I'm at the Sheraton, Andrew made a flight out today, which is amazing since it's freezing and snowing. American Airlines isn't even flying today, major delays out of Chicago.
Phil's flight got cancelled out of Chicago into Moline last night, luckily he managed at the last minute to get a puddle hopper to Cedar Rapids 6 hours later than originally due into Moline. That was good too as I had made it as far as Iowa City, didn't want to drive to Illinois and had booked us into this hotel at a great price. I thought if we'd be stuck somewhere up here, being walking distance to the Mill, where an Afro-Caribbean group were playing at midnight might have it's merits.

"Euforquestra is an eclectic world-beat ensemble from Iowa City, IA with interests in different cultural and traditional musics from all over the globe. The band has made a mission statement out of preserving different traditions, indiscriminatingly trying anything at least once and fusing different styles that appeal to them. The self-proclaimed "Afro-Caribbean-Barnyard-Funk" touches on such genres as Afrobeat, Afro-Cuban, Samba, Soca, Funk, Reggae, and Bluegrass."

Web site: http://www.euforquestra.com/welcome/index.html

They did, we sat in the "seniors section", and danced in the New Year with a few Fairfield kids, in the distance, doing the conga at 12:30AM. Afterwards trying to find food we hung out with all the crazy kids looking for food like us at 1AM. We ended up at Pizza on Dubueque, with the girls who had barely a stitch of clothing on and bare feet in the snow, ah to be young and foolish again (not!)
New Years Resolutions:
1. Give to charity more
2. Love and accept more
3. Let go more
4. Write tons and tons (get the book DONE) more
5. Travel more, all the places I want to
6. Listen better than ever (more!)
7. See my kids more
8. Do more for the world
9. Do more for the world
10. Do more for the world

Wishing you the Best of Years to come with, well,... with more PEACE for us all
I love you Debs