July: My Main Squeeze.

I love the beginning of new months. Love them. I feel like 30/31 days is just enough time for a month. You're just getting sick of it by the time it finally ends. And it's gonna be July now. The heart of summer. Where the sun shines it's brightest, you drink the most iced tea, attend the most BBQs, spend the most time outside, and wear the least amount of clothing. Those are all pretty much my favorite things. Hence, July is my favorite month...next to October, because I really do just love the beginning of the season of fall.

June is such a tease. It's supposed to be summer, but really, it's just gloomy most of the time. Stupid June. I've tossed you out and moved on to July.

I can be a ho when it comes to months.

Struggles.

I suppose it's inevitable, that things get worse before they get better.

I've never been the type of person that just got things handed to them. For almost everything that I have truly ever wanted in life, I have had to work for it. Which is something I honestly take pride in. I feel like I've learned a lot and gained much independence. Through working for what I want, I've grown up immensely. And I hope to keep working for things that I truly aspire to have in life.

But sometimes, it's really just kind of hard. Struggling to get by. Letting money stress me out so much. Not knowing about school, or any of my future for that matter. I didn't used to be like this. Money never stressed me out so much before. I never let it. But now, it's almost inevitable. It's so grown-up. I have grown up. And the truth is, I have big responsibilities now. Taking care of myself, my life and everything that goes along with it. And that makes one part of me really anxious and excited to be so independent, but it makes another part of me scared shitless.

But I'll just keep working. I may not have a set goal for my life, but I have an idea. And I know the last thing I want to do is move backwards when I have come so far.

Freedom: Summer 2010.

Back in Portland. And it truly is so good to be back. Simply put, I am happy here.

And it's summer. Which is just goodness in itself. And people are correct when they say that Portland summers are fantastic.

There is just love all around.

And the sun shines bright until almost 9 PM.

I went on my first run through my new neighborhood today after work. And let me tell you, Multnomah Village sure does have some hills. Geez.

But it's good. It's great. Everything. It's everything I want. Everything I need.

Even though my apartment has zero furniture and I'll be sleeping on the floor for the next two weeks and I'm riding a bicycle that's about to fall apart at any second and I'm working over 40 hours a week and I'm flat broke and I need a haircut (talk about a run-on), I feel that I honestly am at my best here. On my own, struggling to get by. There's something liberating about it.

Ya know what it is? I feel free, and right. All over, everywhere and everything.

Back home?

Im flying back today to Portland, Oregon from LAX (ughhh, hate LAX. Everyone at every other airport is so much nicer.)

I keep saying that I'm flying home. And in my eyes I am. Portland is my home now. Which is weird. Ventura used to be such a home, and then so quickly it grew to this place that once was. Now it's just "where I grew up" and "where I went to high school."

This whole experience of me visiting Ventura has been so great, but also so strange. I've realized a lot of things now that I never had before. Strangely enough, I have gained a certain confidence. A confidence that I will be able to make it on my own. And a confidence of where I belong.

But for now, later Ventura, I'll see ya in the winter time.

Pokes n' Jokes.

Im not usually one to get all into the controversy of politics and shtuff buttttt, this was funny. I thought.

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below. She shouted to him, "Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, but I don't know where I am."

The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, "You're in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above ground elevation of 2,346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and 100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.

"She rolled her eyes and said, "You must be an Obama Democrat."

"I am," replied the man. "How did you know?"

"Well," answered the balloonist, "everything you told me is technically correct. But I have no idea what to do with your information, and I'm still lost. Frankly, you've not been much help to me."

The man smiled and responded, "You must be a Republican."

"I am," replied the balloonist. "How did you know?"

"Well," said the man, "you don't know where you are or where you are going. You've risen to where you are due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You're in exactly the same position you were in before we met, but somehow, now it's my fault."

Dawn.

I've always been a morning person. Maybe it has something to do with acclimating to it after four years of waking up at 4:30 AM for morning water polo practice, but I don't know if that's all of it.

I love the mornings. The possibility of the day with the wake of the sun. Getting out of bed and sitting on the couch with my cup of coffee, contemplating what events may take place in the next twenty four hours.

Mornings bring mystery. The stillness in the early hours. Anything can happen with a sunrise.

Submission.

You're pushing too hard

Right into my brain.

Squeezing so you fit into every corner.

Every paper,

in the files,

in the boxes,

that hold my memories.

And I'm pushing you out.

Real hard.

Im in a frenzy of frustration.

But you're strong. Real tough.

Must be all those weights you've been lifting.

Boxes you've been moving.

And rearranging

Inside my spent head.

As much as I fight you-

I've gotten used to your cacophonous company.

Punchbowls.

There's a lot of things that I can't get enough of. Like music, sports, people. But seriously. I cannot get enough of being outside. It's like an addiction. No matter where I am, what I'm doing, things are like ten times better when you're doing them outside. Something about the fresh air, the openness, the light. Love it.

Any who, so I hiked a lil' six miler today with a small group of friends. We went to the punchbowls around Santa Paula. I've done that hike before, but it doesn't get old. The trail is all washed away, so it's like a pretty legitimate hike, I would say. Lots of river crossing, boulder hopping, some rock climbing, bush whacking, sliding, crawling, running. Lots of bruises and scrapes, sunburned shoulders, beat up shoes. But honestly, it's the best. Nothing like it. Just being out where no one else is. Away from everything, roughin' it. (not really in this case, but ya know.)

We finally made it to the punchbowls after a good three hours of hiking in. And even though summer just started, we decided to go in the water. And my favorite part of this whole hike, was when I changed into my bathing suit. Naked. Right there, in front of all of nature. And I know it sounds silly, and extremely hippy-esque, but being naked in front of trees and rocks and rivers and bugs and plants, there's something freeing about it. Like all of nature was watching me, but it was so okay. It was serene and natural. (I am kind of embarrassingly laughing at myself while writing this, but seriously.)

Anyways. After we had all changed, we lined up on the rocks and leapt in to the great shock of freezing cold river water washing over our bodies and our faces. Piercing us like needles. But none-the-less, it was truly enjoyable.

After eating out PB&J's we hiked it all the way back. I didn't want to leave. Sometimes I wish I could just purchase one of those awesome, really cool backpacking back packs and just load it up with my necessities, and then go off, and live in some mountains or forest for a lil' while. With just me, and my pack, and the great outdoors. Sleeping under the stars.

Cleanin' out my closet.

I've been moving stuff. Lots of it. Going through drawers, cleanin' out my closet. Deciding what I want and what I can live without. What there's room for, and what I'm forced to throw away. Things being condensed, things being spread out, things once lost that are now found.

But that's just it, they're all things. Made in factories or in my elementary art class. It's funny how we can get so emotionally attached to these material items. Especially when they are stored away in boxes, placed on shelves, thinking their only purpose is to collect dust for the next ten years.

But it is enjoyable. To take it all out. Let it breath. Look through it and let it stir your memory. Let nostalgia fall onto the room like a dense morning mist on the southwestern coast. Without these material artifacts, I would have forgotten all about a lot of happenings in my life. So really, they truly are of immense importance. Serving as reminders to my childhood, to things I was once proud of, what I have achieved. Books filled with my thoughts, emotions, and memories. Not only am I reminded of my childhood, but the person that I once was. How I have changed. Thing that were catastrophically important to me when I was 12 are so insignificant to what I cared about when I was 15, which are the polar opposite of what I care about now. I recognize from my writings how easily swayed I had become. Who knows when I changed. Maybe it was gradual. S'pose it just came in one swoop and I didn't even recognize it. I guess what matters it that I did change.

I feel that a big part of saving all this is because we're scared to forget. I don't want to ever forget what it's like to be a kid. To run through the street barefoot or swim in the ocean. To be dirty and silly and spontaneous. To use my imagination and to still laugh at things, like flatulence.

Rapt.

Seeing you there,
Pensive in stance-
I just want to know you,
Can't we just dance?
But your thoughts have you glued,
Your eyes in a trance
Your hair all a mess
And your hands in your pants.

And I wanted to tell you,
I just want you to know;
You're doin' just fine
You are not below
But high on this land
And as well in your mind.
I know why you're searching
What you're hoping to find.

But I dont understand
I cannot see
Why we are binded,
Why cant we be free?
And I know that it's quite hard
To sometimes perceive
What it really might be
That this time may conceive.
And for myself, and for me
It's most hard to believe
In all of this future
Moving swift with the breeze.

Postcards from Italy.

Somethin' about this song. Shown to me this morning by a friend.

Like when the trumpet comes in. It reminds me of adventures in summer, on top of a train or something. It gives off this certain thrill.

At about 2:02, thats my fav. When there's the trumpet solo, and then he comes in with that real beautiful last verse. Love it.

I love solos in songs. Trumpets, drums, guitars, violins. You name it. I love it.

Sports.

I love sports. Like they're probably on my top ten favorite things in life. I love the competitiveness, the aggression, the excitement, the feeling of a team, the hard work, the sweat. All of it. The let down after you lose, and the high after you win. The energy, the perseverance, and determination. Can't get enough.

Lately, more than playing sports, I have been watching them. And one thing I've noticed it that I have been brought so much closer to a lot of people because of it. I find myself at parties disputing the latest basketball game, or getting excited about the world cup with all my friends. Moral of all of this: Sports bring people together.

Right now it's 7:30 AM and all my family plus my friends woke up an hour ago to witness the USA vs. Slovenia World Cup game. To get such a large group of people hyped up about the same thing, is honestly really cool.

Well, shit.

"Why don't you ever understand what I'm trying to tell you: it's with your six senses that you're fooled into believing not only that you have six senses, but that you contact an actual outside world with them. If it wasn't for your eyes, you wouldn't see me. If it wasn't for your ears, you wouldn't hear that airplane. If it wasn't for your nose, you wouldn't smell the midnight mint. If it wasn't for your tongue taster, you wouldn't taste the difference between A and B. If it wasn't for your body, you wouldn't feel Princess. There is no me, no airplane, no mind, no Princess, no nothing, you for krissakes do you want to go on being fooled every damn minute of your life?"

-The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac.

Bliss.

Met up with old friends for coffee this morning.

Picked up the best person evaaaa, drove to the beach.

Volleyball, ocean swims, layin' on the sand, in-n-out, and sunshine.

Watching the game at Rookie's downtown tonight.

Best day since I've been home.

Sometimes, you just need someone to relate to you. Listen, and then relate. It helps to know you're not the only one who feels that way. Reassuring. You don't feel as guilty. You don't feel as confused. You just feel better.

Movin' right along.

Bought my second summer read:

The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac.

Once again, my good friend Claire introduced me to Kerouac a lil while back. Claire has obviously been influential in my life. Any who, Jack is awesome. Total beatnik stuff. I can dig it. His writing is flawless and his ideas and perceptions are highly influential.

Joni Mitchell's Blue Period was a good read. Definitely interesting. She led an awesome life and wrote some amazing songs, inspiring people throughout the world. And in reading her interviews, she seems to not have such a big head about it all. Which makes me like her more.

I have become highly introspective in the past three days. I think also, my creative juices are beginning to flow. All I want to do it write and read and draw. I bought new moleskin journals today. I am feeling both experimental, as well as expressive. Maybe I'll put some stuff up, maybe not.

Nostalgia to the max.

Not being home for six months is weird. I guess I missed it more than I thought. But Im also remembering the things that I don't much care for here.

Just driving all these familiar streets and stopping in at the usual places.

Seeing all my friends and family is great. But it's something about this town. It's almost haunting me with all my memories here. I have a sort of anxiousness. It's never happened to me before.

It's like this place that I grew up in and had way up high on a pedestal, isn't really what I remember it to be. I mean, it is still beautiful and bright, with the smell of sea salt in the air. My face remains makeup-less and my hair is full of sand and bits of seaweed.

It's just somethin' else. Maybe the people. Maybe it's just me. I don't know.

Flyin' Away.

Im flying home today. In approximately 2 hours and 50 minutes.

It's strange to look back on this year. Everything that's happened. The people I've met. The things I've seen and gotten the opportunities to experience. The lessons I've learned.

I've grown. I can tell. Not like height (unfortunately) but, like, I think I've grown up. I've changed. People are so malleable. I like it. It's interesting to look back on who we were, and then see who we have become today. As humans, we're all over the place. One day we're all bitches, and then some life changing experience happens and we become sympathetic and understanding and kind.

But I like the type of change in people, when they don't need a life changing event. They just realize it, that they could use a change. All on their own. I think that's admirable. To have the strength to see a flaw in yourself, and then be willing to put in the effort to fix it.

But really, I don't believe that people need to be fixed. More just that they need to grow.

New ends, old beginnings.

Officially done with my first year of college.

No more long nights and early mornings of endless reading, writing papers, studying.

Three and a half months of goodness awaits.

Didn't waste any time, I bought my first read of the summer: Will You Take Me As I Am: Joni Mitchell's Blue Period by Michelle Mercer.

Joni Mitchell fascinates me. My good friend Claire introduced me to her around the beginning of my senior year of high school, and I immediately fell in love. She's just so poignant and mysterious. I am one of millions of girls who are awed by her pure emotional and musical talent. I'm really looking forward to reading this one.

And even though it's officially summer. It's still pouring outside. According to the internet it's supposed to be nice and sunny on Saturday. But who knows these days.

The sun has forsaken us. I think it maybe ran away. Eloped with Mars or something. They were always in such close proximity...I always thought they would make a nice couple.

Time Travel.

"Love the world and yourself in it, move through it as though it offers no resistance, as though the world is your natural element."

-The Time Travelers Wife.

Cannot wait for summer reading. In the sun and the fresh, warm air.

Any suggestions?

I want to start a book club.

Just to add it to my list of nerdy qualities.

And because I love books.

Which is already on the list.

Another thought, how awesome would time travel be? I mean, I suppose that it could be thought of as a curse, and things could go awfully wrong.

But at the same time, it would be so cool!

I mean, you could go back to whatever time you wanted, and meet the people of your dreams, and see the concerts of a lifetime, and witness amazing historical events.

But I guess we were born in this time for a reason. It's been pretty good so far. Despite the whole climate crisis and the world supposedly ending in 2012, the past nineteen years have been pretty aiight.

Truly Madly Deeply.

I will forever love Ray LaMontagne. I mean, his guitar, his raspy voice, his harmonica. If he wasn't like 30 years older than me, I would put him in the running for my potential husband.

"Music is a moral law: it gives wings to the mind, a soul to the universe, flight to the imagination, a charm to sadness -- a life to everything." -Plato

So for the past four days straight, I have done nothing but homework. It's been kind of fun. Not too exhilarating, however, I have come to some conclusions about homework, and other things that are not too pleasing to do.

Here it is: You just gotta do it.

I mean, when I came to Portland, I came to go to school, knowing that it wasn't always gonna be easy. So instead of dwelling on all the work I have in front of me, I might as well just do it. And feel good about it when it's done. For goodness sake, I like school. I should want good grades. I sort of forgot about that this term. But better late than never to remember.

Also, I've been like super content and happy lately. Kind of random? But good. I think that I just feel real balanced. Like things are good in several aspects of my life. Plus, I have like the best friends ever. Whether its back home or in Portland, they're all awesome. And even though school is stressful, Im finally motivated to get stuff done. And summer is so close I can taste it. And home is just a plane ride away. New apartment. Volunteering. Guitar lessons.

Sweet, sweet freedom.

Dreams.

I had this dream last night.

And everyone was laughing, but their laughter was like liquid...kind of like throwup....but prettier, like water...with glitter.

And I was trying to run around and save everyone's laughter in all of these jars. And it was like so important to me, like my life mission.

And that's all I remember.

Laughter is important to me. Like it definitely could be my life mission to save it if it ever decided to come pouring off of people's tongues in liquid form.

The average child laughs 300 times a day, and the average adult laughs only 15. (according to the internet)

I better laugh a lot when Im old. Or there better still be things to laugh about when I'm old.

OMSI

Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.

Seriously, my mother ship.

Today I interviewed to be a volunteer for this summer program called Rising Stars where I will mentor young adults on how to be awesome leaders.

AND I GOT IT.

Holler!

And then after the interview they gave me a free pass to look at the museum. I literally spent like two hours in there by myself. It's fantastic. If you ever come to Portland, go to OMSI.

According to my calculations, in just today, I gained like 50 million points in the category of being a nerd.

Also, the sun finally came out today, and it was BEAUTIFUL! Hallelujah!

Im a happy kid, despite all the ass loads of homework I am about to endure.

Also, this song is spectacular. I am obsessed with the Black Keys at the moment. They get me in my summer, rocky, bluesy, feel. Ya dig?

So it begins.

Even though it's the very end of my freshman year of college, this is the most stressed I have been in a long time.

Presentations

Sociology Paper

TEN short essays for Sustainability (seriously, so mean.)

Readings galore

Study study study study study.

ON TOP OF:

Moving into my new apartment

Working

Getting ready to go home

Social life.

All within the next ten days.

Geez.

It's gonna be ok though. I can do this. I have done worse. Maybe? Probably not. But still, there is a time for everything.

BIG summer plans have come up.

Outside Lands Music Festival 2010 in San Fran with IZZZAAAYYYY at Berkeley.

Guitar lessons.

Metal smithing class with Kyle where I will learn to make awesssommmmeee earrings.

And just summer. With sun shine. Hopefully. I mean, it's June and it's still down pouring here. I just can't take it anymore. I am like a child of the sun. I need it. Like not even joking a little, I NEEEEEED it.

Hooooookay.