One last day of nothingness

On the curbs today: Christmas trees, disposed and dry, lying on the grass, waiting to be taken away.  Remnants of holidays hauled off and forgotten until next year.  In the trees, found gloves and other winter wear, adorning the otherwise bare branches.  The difficulty of going out in the cold, because I don't want to be cold.  But go, I do.  Walked the lake.  Cooked.  Watched some tv.  Walked out again to run an errand (actually, did that 2x.)  Made kale chips because I wanted "junk" food; tastes an awful lot like potato chips somehow.  All procrastination.  The intention was to write.  Finally, walked over to the coffee shop, drank hot chocolate, journaled, and then wrote more on the piece.

Lost glove, January 2/L Herlevi 2015

So...one of them puts in a personal ad.  The other reads it.  Realizes that they know who it is, and likes them, but figures, "well, if they liked me, they could've asked me out, but didn't, so..."  But then decides, what the heck, that since it's anonymous, to answer the ad anyway, who's gonna know?  The replies go back and forth and they decide to meet, under that pretense of being strangers, which is false.  2 hasn't come clean, yet.  Keeps putting it off.  Keeps meaning to get to it before they are scheduled to meet, but chickens out time and again.  So...here we are at the meeting place.  1 (the one who placed the ad, and who really is unaware) is there, 2 walks in, chickens out, walks back out.  Really doesn't want to hurt 1, so attempts to enter again, slightly altered in appearance from before...and where does that go?  The jig is up...how does it end (for now)?  Do I need the fourth character?  What's the "special?"  Need something tangible by Sunday.

Words or no?  Still unclear.  Need to figure out the length of it, too.  Still, the concept needs to be solid first.

Another break.  Time to mull it over more.

(Though I found all this from observing life, there are examples of it all around, (mistaken identity, tricksters, personal ads): Cyrano, Shakespeare, that Piña Colada song, "Must Love Dogs," etc..That song has been running in my head since Christmas from an association from an old Jazzercize routine, Knox Blox (piña colada and mocha) that my mom took to her class.  My brother was commenting disparagingly about Knox blocks(?) and I was remembering that I kinda' liked the mocha ones.)

Triggers everywhere.  Just got to write it down when it comes.

Caw!

Woke up to a single loud caw outside my window. With my eyes still closed, I lay there thinking, "Why is there a crow cawing at 3 am?" Finally opened an eye to see that it was light out. Looked over at the clock and it was almost 6 am. So, thank you Spot, for waking me up.

I don't know who put the idea in my head that taking the clown class would be a great idea. Must've been a conversation from over the winter quarter. I know that I came into spring break with the idea that I really wanted to take it, to study with George Lewis. I remember asking someone that also taught at the school if they thought the class would be offered again, and she thought "no" because he no longer had a home here. I did know that if given the opportunity to take it, I would make it happen. A few weeks later, I asked someone else, and she said,"yes" but as an intensive, and the day that it showed up on the schedule, I signed up. And then I heard scary stories about it. But a couple of years ago I met a woman (a classmate) who loved it, and she thought I should take it. I wasn't really interested then and I put it out of my head, thinking I could do it later. She said you'd love it or hate it...I'm aiming to love it, even if that's in retrospect. Anyway, that starts Sunday. I'm excited and scared. Only 36 hours of class:) (over three weeks.) At any rate, I've dedicated this year to transform what's not working for me in my life, or how I stand in my own way-and for the record, when you decide that, a whole lotta' shit comes up.

From instructor: "Comfortable clothes to move in, drinking water...an apple for the teacher...their courage strong like a lion, their heats tender as a lamb. Tenderloin of lamb. Yum!"  Assuming, that's a typo and it's meant to read "hearts." Yikes. Is this the next closest thing to boot camp?