This Month

I am quickly learning that life trumps writing about life. As a result, blogging is on my mind but constantly pushed to the side.

I feel like I should begin with a public apology to the bird on the beach this weekend.

Dear bird,

Just... I'm sorry. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you the fees for the therapist I'm sure you'll be seeing for the next few years. If it means anything, we block sidewalks to rescue snails and my sister-in-law spent years helping other birds in animal hospitals. In all fairness, you could have flown away. When you wake up in a cold sweat after nightmares of my dog chasing you over the sand and her crazed "CATCH IT" barks, please know, it was done in love. She thinks you're great, and she just wanted to play. I hope you're okay and that your heartbeat has returned to a calm steady rate.

Love, Naomi.

The last month of my life. People have always told me that I should be a teacher, so let's do this outline style, shall we?


Cats in the Grass

 

Joel loves this grass (so do Benjamin and Abby, even though she has crazy allergies and spends an hour scratching her ears and biting her paws every time she goes on it). Rolls around in it and takes naps in the shade and chases the butterflies in the sun.

I think he's pretty cute.

 Friends with Benefits

And by benefits, I of course mean, cousins that drive you to Boomers.

My friend Kate has those cousins, and if you know us, you'll know that I didn't even blink when Kate texted me that morning with, "You're coming to Boomers with us in an hour." We don't clear these things or plan them. Spontaneous adventure, please.

 

Waiting for a Catch

Got nothin'. Except a clump of seaweed, which sat on the pier with us until it was dry and cracked and I read facts about our city and burned in the June Gloom. I'll have you know it was very fun. Especially once we finally admitted our failure and then fed the leftover squid to pelicans. We could write a novel -- How to Spot a Tourist 101. They will flock and gape as you dare to step that close to the birds.

The Sunset

The sunset worthy of a perfect, Olympic 10. I saw the imaginary score cards. I heard the clapping. We sat on a bench and talked about ridiculous social standards and health and the whole time, we kept careening our necks back all cramped up to watch this glorious sky show behind us. The beauty can not be measured by pictures.

 

 

(The above two pictures were taken by wonderful Madi)


Spinning in the Sea

It looks like someone stuck us in a painting, with big waves and crazy winds. I love this girl and the place I live. And how the whole beach was occupied but we found this little empty spot that we had all to ourselves, until a little boy swam by us and laughed at us and shouted "YOU GUYS ARE SCARED?"

 

And Rachelle looked like a 50's catalog model.

Sleepover

We ate a lot of pizza and watched a lot of movies. And did each other's makeup and painted each other's nails and had a feathers-flying-everywhere pillow fight. The last sentence is a lie.

They have quickly become some of my favorite people. Not a lie.

Bonfires

We can just conclude that, four weeks into summer, we've had a lot of bonfires and I can't keep track anymore. But they've all been fun and they've all made me really life is so rich and grand and fulfilling and beautiful kinds of happy.

o wrinkled toes, damp beach towels, wet pony tails, getting your feet wet, finding the streams, following the current, diving in, family swims, making waves and coming up for air when you must - See more at: http://kellehampton.com/page/5?s=enjoying%3A+almost+summer#sthash.LKdHfZK7.dpuf

To wrinkled toes, damp beach towels, wet ponytails, getting your feet wet, diving in, marshmallows on fire, making waves, coming up for air when you need to.

We're going on a big road trip next week, and feeling extremely excited about it all.

I thank God every day for this life.

Have a beautiful week!!

Greatness

I felt like writing all day yesterday. I had the feelings and the words for them and my thoughts were constantly slipping into that fancy way of transition between emotion and prose -- "The cerulean sky is absolutely breathtaking today." And when I can't write those kinds of things down, I start saying them out loud. It's obnoxious. Needless to say, though I was filled with inspiration, I didn't write yesterday. I used the surge of energy on other things (like organizing all of my writing materials and walking my dog down the street. Very important things).

And last night, just when I felt the guilt for not using it to update this blog, for example, my friend questioned me about when I was planning to write a new post. And I told him exactly what I told you above (except, not as dramatic). I trusted that the inspiration would come back, and sure enough, I felt it breathing late this afternoon, and here I am. Inspiration spun into the magic it intended being, a day late.

(for future reference, "***"s translate to "Hey, this blog post has no theme. Prepare for jolting subject change.")

***

Apparently a heat wave is sweeping through parts of California, but it is mild and cool here and I've found myself in anything from shorts and flip flops at the beach, to sweaters and blankets on cold morning walks.

Last Friday (and the Saturday before) included both sets of apparel. (Swimming in the cool and unpredictable pacific under the breathtakingly cerulean sky, and gathering around the blazing warmth of fire in the chill of oceanic night. I told you it was obnoxious. Also, Stephan, read that sentence again and tell me it doesn't sound like poetry.)

(Rachelle took this picture, and it might be my favorite from the entire day. Or ever, for that matter.)

I think the waves flipped most of us under at least once, and by the time I had gotten a mouthful of salt water and that panic attack moment of this is how I'm going to die, and then continued facing the ocean, I decided that I want my entire life to be like this. Freezing, submerged in water for a moment, but then back in the open air and going further out into it, knowing the knockdown could happen again at any moment. But the experience. That's worth it. Always.

Waves make good metaphors for life.

Moving on, more important than the location were the people. I could not know better people to spend days like these with. They are perfect. Warm and colorful and full of life in so many ways. (Lots of hugs) It is wonderful to know that we're all doing this great big thing -- facing challenges and finding ways to overcome them and connecting with each other and living out the very start of our lives, and it's even better to know that we're not doing it alone. That, actually, is the best part.

(the context of this photo and what was going through our minds is the opposite of those pleasant thoughts above, but I'm not going to mention the agitating middle schoolers we shared our bonfire pit with. Oh, wait.)

For me, it was definitely one of those, "Wow, this is really happening," days. People who love each other and talk about being together more over the next few months -- here we were, in the middle of the sand, at the beginning of the summer, together. And we stayed together and talked until the sun had long since gone down, over the glow of firepit flames, and the reality that life can be found where you least expect it just came spilling out of that place. The bonfire was my favorite part. Singing. Laughing. S'mores. I am so happy to be in the presence of such greatness.

Even the not so fun moments like lugging all of our crap across the beach was evocative of nothing but goodness, really. I love the sunshine and sea breezes and the warm pavement on bare feet and going coatless and wind blowing through bubble wands, and I love my friends.

To an entire summer that matches that evening's greatness.

Savanna, Hulisa, Alysah, Kimberly, Fernando, Stephan, Kate, Ashley, Madi, and Rachelle - I love every single one of you.

Explorer of the World

Hi. This is my blog. (There. I typed the first sentence.)

I don't even know where to start. I've been staring at a blank screen for half an hour and I'm really not sure which words I should begin with.

For starters, we'll use Elissa Elliot's. Because they illustrate what I'm intending to do here.

"You are an explorer. Your mission is to document the world around you as if you've never seen it before. Take notes. Collect things you find on your travels. Document your findings. Notice patterns. Copy. Trace. Focus on one thing at a time. Record what you are drawn to." (Elissa Elliot, How to be an Explorer of the World.)

My friend Stephan (upon my telling him of my plans to start this blog) asked me why exactly I wanted to do it. That's the answer.

This is my documentation.

 

I think people are wonderful. They are swirly, messy mixes, like carousels, like constellations. 

I think a lot about that when I look at the kind of person I am and how I am perceived, especially when I start trying to compartmentalize those things (Is good, tulip-loving girl my jam or am I the person who laughs at inappropriate jokes and then reblogs them on Tumblr? For the record, I am both of those people).

But we don't have to worry about those things. We're already all of them, all at the same time. We are friends and people's children, and we can have A's in the arts and C's in math and science and be really bad cooks that sometimes do yoga but mostly just wear sweatpants. We can love fast food and eat it whenever we want (waffle fries, you know it) and also workout and eat healthy breakfasts every morning. We can be people who like peace and happiness, and yet, we can cry over spilled broccoli (me, yesterday, on the hardwood floor).

 

I think the reason we try so hard to put ourselves into one category is because we are always doing it to other people, trying to understand them. Lately, I've been trying to find contradictions in others instead of trying to make sense of them by restricting them to one thing. My friend Kate is a fierce feminist and also loves cute dresses and accessories and anything she deems "kawaii," which I'm still trying to figure out. She can also cook anything perfectly if she's seen it before, and she has a passion for sewing. I think she'll be an attorney or some other big-shot job, making 6 AM calls to Japan while she crotchets in a cafe. My sister is a vegetarian, and I don't think I've ever seen her eat a vegetable. She has always cursed the ground that our school sits on, but yesterday, she had a panic-attack moment of not ever wanting to graduate from it. (She'll still be doing so in two days. She's great. She'll be fine.)

What I'm saying is that I am full of contradictions. As such, this blog will be.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself." - Walt Whitman

And since I love quotes, here's where the blog name came from.
 

"A life lived in love will never be dull." - Leo Buscaglia

 

I hope my documenting is worthwhile.