Joy. Happiness. A three-quarter bed in earth tones all to myself.
Quiet serenity. Green trees and a pool. Wifi and a long lost older brother...
The plane has landed at LAX! And now it kinda feels like I'm in Pretoria.
For reals. There are even Jakaranda trees lining some of the streets.
Slept till 11h45, went for a scenic drive, bought some Ouma rusks on Sunset Boulevard and am now
off to braai with real South Africans...
On the amusing side:
My travelwallet credit card is on the blink and when I phoned Standard Bank
in SA they apologised and explained that everyone in the entire world who is
traveling with a SB Travelwallet is having the exact same problem... Hilarious.
I'm glad I'm not stuck somewhere in India hanging desperately to get some bucks
off my card!
Will check in properly tomorrow, I promise.
And post pretty pictures.
You might even see me in my new alien haircut.
xxx
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
A small request.
Dear Universe,
You know I hate friggin aeroplanes.
Please be sure to check that flight number 946 from SF to LA will be super fine this evening.
However, should you feel compelled to make this specific plane do something it wasn't built to do, please keep an eye on me. I will be the cute chick in seat 22A on tranquilizers.
And possibly with a whiskey in my hand.
I'm trusting your good judgement on this one.
(Please don't make decisions based on my bad haircut. It will grow out, I swear.)
Yours truly,
Alice
You know I hate friggin aeroplanes.
Please be sure to check that flight number 946 from SF to LA will be super fine this evening.
However, should you feel compelled to make this specific plane do something it wasn't built to do, please keep an eye on me. I will be the cute chick in seat 22A on tranquilizers.
And possibly with a whiskey in my hand.
I'm trusting your good judgement on this one.
(Please don't make decisions based on my bad haircut. It will grow out, I swear.)
Yours truly,
Alice
Confessions of a haircut addict.
Sometimes Hair Therapy backfires. It's rare, but it does happen.
You walk into the hairdresser's with optimism in your heart, sure that in about an hour's time you will have happily transformed from an ugly duckling into the swan you were always meant to be. You have a clear idea of what you want... and come out with the exact opposite.
Case and point:
I want to grow my hair out and wanted the hairdresser in question to straighten the back and shorten my bangs so I can let it go for the next 3 months till I get home.
So... how come I look like your new alien boyfriend. My hair is shorter than my brother's, and he's balding people.
Hold on LA, my spaceship will be landing shortly.
You walk into the hairdresser's with optimism in your heart, sure that in about an hour's time you will have happily transformed from an ugly duckling into the swan you were always meant to be. You have a clear idea of what you want... and come out with the exact opposite.
Case and point:
I want to grow my hair out and wanted the hairdresser in question to straighten the back and shorten my bangs so I can let it go for the next 3 months till I get home.
So... how come I look like your new alien boyfriend. My hair is shorter than my brother's, and he's balding people.
Hold on LA, my spaceship will be landing shortly.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Bye bye love.
Spent my day wrapping things up in San Francisco.
Tomorrow night I will be fetched at the airport by a familiar face. I don't think he knows how much that means to me right now.
Goodbye San Francisco. It was easy to spend way more time here than anywhere else.
I hope I see you again someday, you got it goin on.
Alice.
- Took a walk to the ferry building to get my dad some sourdough starter.
- Dusted off Cellini Euroline and started packing.
- Bought 6 pairs of new socks/shampoo/dental floss.
- Made a date with Dalia and Emily, my 2 favorite SF people, for goodbye drinks tonite.
- Did some deep breathing and a little bit of bracing. I've been here a long time.
Tomorrow night I will be fetched at the airport by a familiar face. I don't think he knows how much that means to me right now.
Goodbye San Francisco. It was easy to spend way more time here than anywhere else.
I hope I see you again someday, you got it goin on.
Alice.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Dear Universe,
My mother loves me. She's also flippin worried about me right now and sent me an email asking if I don't want to go home.
I want you to be clear on this Universe:
Although my trip has sometimes been hard its also been awesome in the extreme and I will remember it for the rest of my life. Wild horses couldn't drag me home right now. If I was back in SA I would be bored out of my skull and not doing anything worthy of remembering in the far and distant future. True story.
This journey has made me come back to life again, and for that I'm eternally grateful. It's taught me amazing things about myself and the world and it just keeps on coming.
Bring on the adventure, Universe.
I would rather live a life filled with experience than one not lived at all.
Your partner in crime,
Alice
My mother loves me. She's also flippin worried about me right now and sent me an email asking if I don't want to go home.
I want you to be clear on this Universe:
Although my trip has sometimes been hard its also been awesome in the extreme and I will remember it for the rest of my life. Wild horses couldn't drag me home right now. If I was back in SA I would be bored out of my skull and not doing anything worthy of remembering in the far and distant future. True story.
This journey has made me come back to life again, and for that I'm eternally grateful. It's taught me amazing things about myself and the world and it just keeps on coming.
Bring on the adventure, Universe.
I would rather live a life filled with experience than one not lived at all.
Your partner in crime,
Alice
Amen
I called Christine (the client that I texted at home) a second ago. She was too nice.
Subsequently it feels like a massive rock has rolled off of me and I can breathe again. It's always bigger in my head than it actually is. It's over now, all of it.
Tuesday night I fly to LA where I will be picked up by someone I know (how awesome is that) who will take me to his house where I will have my own room. He emailed me yesterday to find out if it would be ok if we had a braai on Wednesday night... He would like to introduce me to his SA friends! I so need some o that.
It's a beautiful day in SF and I'm only here for 2 more, so I'm hitting the streets and seeing the sites, not spending my day on this here lovely laptop.Thanks to everyone who mailed me, thought of me and sent me strength.
It totally got to me!
Big love,
Alice
Halleluja
Welcome to the beginning of Elizabeth Gilbert's book "Eat, pray, love".
This is the part where she finds herself on the bathroom floor at 2am crying in that dead kinda way, except it's not her it's me, and I'm not in the bathroom, I'm on the floor in the laundry, huddling in the corner and hoping not to be discovered. Its one of the only places I can find where I have some privacy and where there are no cameras watching me. Its also conveniently closeby as I have been tending the laundry for the past 4 hours and am now happy to just let rip.
I'm not totally surprised. I've felt this coming on over the last couple of days as my stress levels slowly started escalating. The whole thing with Tara and the housesitting gig in Sedona really got to me. It was so perfect. A place where I could have my own room, a beautiful natural environment, some peace and quiet for a change. Tara wanted references, I got her references. We spoke on the phone. I suggested we skype. I did everything I could to convince her I was the right person but I could hear the hesitation in her voice and by the end of each day I could feel my shoulders arching, my back tight.
On Friday I finally realised that it wasn't going to materialise (when she slammed the phone down in my ear) and it felt like someone had whacked a ten pound hammer into my chest. The blow left me dead and numb.
Where am I going next? How am I going to survive? What the hell am I going to do??
Elizabeth Gilbert had it all figured out.
She ate in Italy, prayed in India and fell in love in Bali. My trip on the other hand has been a tumble of experiences, uncertainty being the common denominator. Hey, that's what I wanted. That's where I thought the freedom came from: no boundaries. Right now I hate nothing more than the fact that I have no cooking clue where I'm going next. It makes me feel insecure and vulnerable.
The Sedona news comes, the hammer hits. I work nightshift and prepare to hit the sack early. After all, I have those readings to do tomorrow in Rockridge. I'm going to make some money, and that alone should serve as some kind of inspiration. Except that things don't go according to plan. My body has an agenda of its own and that is to break down in the laundry and lie there on the floor for a couple of hours gasping like a fish on tiles. I work my way through almost an entire box of tissues and leave around 3am with eyes the size of golfballs, but by 11pm I'm already sure there's no way I'll be capable of doing the readings. It's like I've had a giant inverted pimple explode in my chest cavity and the puss has infected me. I am a zombie. There is nothing left inside of me to give to anyone else except for some pussy splatters and blood on the walls. In a moment of lucidity I pick up my cell and text both clients:
Well what would you say. (Your healer is currently offline, please try again later.) After sending the texts and checking that they go through at 11pm I switch off my phone.
I can't sleep. I toss and turn all night, crying intermittently. There's this pain inside of me that has to come out so I let it wash over me like a giant fire, cleaning my past and opening my future. I fall asleep round 7am and sleep fitfully till about 12h30 when I wake up feeling like there's a raw blister in my chest.
After waking up I start looking suspiciously at my phone. I decide not to switch it on, I don't think I'm capable of dealing with any bad news that might be stored on it. By all rights I should have set an alarm and phoned both of them this morning to check that they got the message, to apologise, but I didn't. I shower. I buy some miso soup which is warm and satisfying. I spend the day in bed watching tv with dead eyes, Yuko looking in on me occasionally, giving me a little massage with her tiny little Japanese hands. (She's very sweet.)
At 5pm I gather myself up and prepare to go and see KD Lang performing in a cathedral just up the street. I bought a ticket for the show in advance, if I hadn't I wouldn't go, but the idea of not having made any money and wasting the ticket is too much. I go to the concert in sneakers and dirty jeans and the ticket lady looks me up and down in a very unpleasant way. I'm a traveler. I have only one pair of closed shoes and these will be them. I have some champagne and regret it immediately when it feels like I might fall over.
I need to keep an eye on the time as I have to be back to work a shift after the show (you don't need a soul or a brain to wash dishes) but the only place I have the time is on my phone, so with a glass of champagne in me I finally switch it on. There are 2 voice messages. My heart sinks. I listen to the beginning of the first:
The concert is a benefit, the money being gifted to a buddhist program that is being offered to schools. The cathedral is big and majestic, the crowd no more than 500. When KD Lang finally comes onto stage she's no further than 15 metres away from me. And she sings. She croons. Her voice a yearning twist in my side. Before I left SA I was watching her videos on Youtube and now here she is infront of me, and even though she wears a suit and her styling is reminiscent of Elvis she's a whole lot more woman than the one sitting next to me in a neglige and high heels.
After the first song it feels like my heart might explode. Here I am, in a cathedral listening to KD Lang whom I've adored for years. She's right here, in this holy place, and I am so, so thankful to be here! What an amazing journey I've been on. How utterly blessed I am to be on this adventure. I suddenly remember how in years to come I might look back on this and wish to be there again, free from everything, nothing tying me down. And just like that I lift back up into the sky, my spirit bobbing up and down like a giant champagne cork on a giant ocean, and I smile.
"Hallelujah"
Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Halleluja
As sung by KD Lang, words by Leonard Cohen
This is the part where she finds herself on the bathroom floor at 2am crying in that dead kinda way, except it's not her it's me, and I'm not in the bathroom, I'm on the floor in the laundry, huddling in the corner and hoping not to be discovered. Its one of the only places I can find where I have some privacy and where there are no cameras watching me. Its also conveniently closeby as I have been tending the laundry for the past 4 hours and am now happy to just let rip.
I'm not totally surprised. I've felt this coming on over the last couple of days as my stress levels slowly started escalating. The whole thing with Tara and the housesitting gig in Sedona really got to me. It was so perfect. A place where I could have my own room, a beautiful natural environment, some peace and quiet for a change. Tara wanted references, I got her references. We spoke on the phone. I suggested we skype. I did everything I could to convince her I was the right person but I could hear the hesitation in her voice and by the end of each day I could feel my shoulders arching, my back tight.
On Friday I finally realised that it wasn't going to materialise (when she slammed the phone down in my ear) and it felt like someone had whacked a ten pound hammer into my chest. The blow left me dead and numb.
Where am I going next? How am I going to survive? What the hell am I going to do??
Elizabeth Gilbert had it all figured out.
She ate in Italy, prayed in India and fell in love in Bali. My trip on the other hand has been a tumble of experiences, uncertainty being the common denominator. Hey, that's what I wanted. That's where I thought the freedom came from: no boundaries. Right now I hate nothing more than the fact that I have no cooking clue where I'm going next. It makes me feel insecure and vulnerable.
The Sedona news comes, the hammer hits. I work nightshift and prepare to hit the sack early. After all, I have those readings to do tomorrow in Rockridge. I'm going to make some money, and that alone should serve as some kind of inspiration. Except that things don't go according to plan. My body has an agenda of its own and that is to break down in the laundry and lie there on the floor for a couple of hours gasping like a fish on tiles. I work my way through almost an entire box of tissues and leave around 3am with eyes the size of golfballs, but by 11pm I'm already sure there's no way I'll be capable of doing the readings. It's like I've had a giant inverted pimple explode in my chest cavity and the puss has infected me. I am a zombie. There is nothing left inside of me to give to anyone else except for some pussy splatters and blood on the walls. In a moment of lucidity I pick up my cell and text both clients:
Hi there, I'm ill and won't be able to come tomorrow. I wanted to let you know asap. If I could be there I wd. Anel
Well what would you say. (Your healer is currently offline, please try again later.) After sending the texts and checking that they go through at 11pm I switch off my phone.
I can't sleep. I toss and turn all night, crying intermittently. There's this pain inside of me that has to come out so I let it wash over me like a giant fire, cleaning my past and opening my future. I fall asleep round 7am and sleep fitfully till about 12h30 when I wake up feeling like there's a raw blister in my chest.
After waking up I start looking suspiciously at my phone. I decide not to switch it on, I don't think I'm capable of dealing with any bad news that might be stored on it. By all rights I should have set an alarm and phoned both of them this morning to check that they got the message, to apologise, but I didn't. I shower. I buy some miso soup which is warm and satisfying. I spend the day in bed watching tv with dead eyes, Yuko looking in on me occasionally, giving me a little massage with her tiny little Japanese hands. (She's very sweet.)
At 5pm I gather myself up and prepare to go and see KD Lang performing in a cathedral just up the street. I bought a ticket for the show in advance, if I hadn't I wouldn't go, but the idea of not having made any money and wasting the ticket is too much. I go to the concert in sneakers and dirty jeans and the ticket lady looks me up and down in a very unpleasant way. I'm a traveler. I have only one pair of closed shoes and these will be them. I have some champagne and regret it immediately when it feels like I might fall over.
I need to keep an eye on the time as I have to be back to work a shift after the show (you don't need a soul or a brain to wash dishes) but the only place I have the time is on my phone, so with a glass of champagne in me I finally switch it on. There are 2 voice messages. My heart sinks. I listen to the beginning of the first:
Hi Anel, this is Christine. Uhm. I thought you would be here by now...I switch the phone back off in a nano-second. The number I texted... It was her home number. She never got the message. She waited for me. She thinks I just never showed. It's all too much for me, my insides curl up and die as I face the fact that I will have to phone this person in the morning and explain to her what happened. After all, Emily recommended me to her friend, who in turn recommended me to this person. I've embaressed at least 3 people by not showing. I've never done something like this before and the shame sits on my head like a disfigured baby. I can't bear to listen to the other message. Actually, I can't deal with this at all.
After the first song it feels like my heart might explode. Here I am, in a cathedral listening to KD Lang whom I've adored for years. She's right here, in this holy place, and I am so, so thankful to be here! What an amazing journey I've been on. How utterly blessed I am to be on this adventure. I suddenly remember how in years to come I might look back on this and wish to be there again, free from everything, nothing tying me down. And just like that I lift back up into the sky, my spirit bobbing up and down like a giant champagne cork on a giant ocean, and I smile.
"Hallelujah"
Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light
In every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though
It all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Halleluja
As sung by KD Lang, words by Leonard Cohen
Saturday, September 26, 2009
My latest Craigslist offering.
Hello Alice. How has your trip been? I've read some of your blog... =ntersting propositions... Heres one you may not have gotten... WOULD YOU CONSIDER MARRIAGE, A whirl wind romance, Allowing you dual citizenship??? I live in the rural coastal town of Charlestown, Rhode Island. I have five acres of densly forested land along the Pawcketuck river. Just minutes to the beaches, the university, and more. RHODE island is convenient to NYC, and Boston. I would love to hear back from you either way. If nothing else, maybe I could put you up till your plane takes you back home on the 17th?
Friday, September 25, 2009
Free falling.
Alice has just been let down. In the extreme.
I thought I was going to housesit 2 kitties in beautiful Sedona for the month of October, but after getting the phone slammed down in my ear I think it's kinda over between me and Tara.
The stress is strong with me.
Looks like I'm flying to LA on Monday evening (haven't booked it yet) and staying there for two days before going... well, I've no freakin idea where. No clue. Clueless. Nada fokol.
Have received some pretty interesting responses to my postings to house-sit though:
I think I'm falling apart today.
I don't know where my adventure goes from here.
I thought I was going to housesit 2 kitties in beautiful Sedona for the month of October, but after getting the phone slammed down in my ear I think it's kinda over between me and Tara.
The stress is strong with me.
Looks like I'm flying to LA on Monday evening (haven't booked it yet) and staying there for two days before going... well, I've no freakin idea where. No clue. Clueless. Nada fokol.
Have received some pretty interesting responses to my postings to house-sit though:
- to live with a guy in his Chicago flat and be his personal maid.
- to live with a erotic writer and "help him with his work".
- to live on a houseboat in Oklahoma city with a couple who can't spell.
I think I'm falling apart today.
I don't know where my adventure goes from here.
Enjoy the silence.
Dear lovelies,
The silence is not intentional.
I am busy planning the next leg of my trip and it's taking up a fair amount of time.
I hope to be housesitting in Sedona for the month of October which will be a pleasant break from the noise I currently live in.
There is a good chance that I'm leaving SF this coming Sunday... It's all a bit crazy right now.
I will let you know what's going on as soon as I do.
Now, back to craigslist...
The silence is not intentional.
I am busy planning the next leg of my trip and it's taking up a fair amount of time.
I hope to be housesitting in Sedona for the month of October which will be a pleasant break from the noise I currently live in.
There is a good chance that I'm leaving SF this coming Sunday... It's all a bit crazy right now.
I will let you know what's going on as soon as I do.
Now, back to craigslist...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Reality.
This byline was in the San Francisco Chronicle this morning.
What do you do when you love a place so excruciatingly much but at the same time don't want to live in fear for the rest of your life?
What's the solution?
South African Crime:
South Africa's murder rate - one of the world's highest - has dropped slightly, but the country faces a distressing rise in rapes, robberies and hijackings, South African police said Tuesday. The number of murders decreased 3.4 percent to 18,148 between April 2008 and March 2009. Sexual offenses increased 10.1 percent, with a total of 71,500 reported offences. Robberies at homes and businesses increased more dramatically, up 27.3 and 41.5 percent respectively.
What do you do when you love a place so excruciatingly much but at the same time don't want to live in fear for the rest of your life?
What's the solution?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Back to the future.
Depression is unsexy.
A good cure for a bout of The Downs is to take action. ANY action. So I did.
It turns out I am set to leave SF on the 1st of October - next stop: Los Angeles! How awesome is that. Will probably be there for about 5 days and then... Well heck, I actually have no idea. The plan is to slowly work my way back to the east coast over the next two months, staying wherever I can for free. Who knows what will happen. The most probable options will be New Mexico or Arizona next.
Finances are a small cause for concern but hey,I'm not going to sit here and cry about it. Besides, I did 2 readings last week and have 3 lined up for this Saturday. That's right folks, I'm going to make $300 on Saturday. (Ofcourse this could mean that SF has finally caught on to what I do and that once again I am leaving just as things start panning out for me. I really, really hope that I am wrong about this.)
Do you remember that Salticrax commercial? A guy eats crackers with caviar at the beginning of the month and dry plain crackers at the end of the month. My trip in a nutshell.
Hold thumbs.
A good cure for a bout of The Downs is to take action. ANY action. So I did.
It turns out I am set to leave SF on the 1st of October - next stop: Los Angeles! How awesome is that. Will probably be there for about 5 days and then... Well heck, I actually have no idea. The plan is to slowly work my way back to the east coast over the next two months, staying wherever I can for free. Who knows what will happen. The most probable options will be New Mexico or Arizona next.
Finances are a small cause for concern but hey,I'm not going to sit here and cry about it. Besides, I did 2 readings last week and have 3 lined up for this Saturday. That's right folks, I'm going to make $300 on Saturday. (Ofcourse this could mean that SF has finally caught on to what I do and that once again I am leaving just as things start panning out for me. I really, really hope that I am wrong about this.)
Do you remember that Salticrax commercial? A guy eats crackers with caviar at the beginning of the month and dry plain crackers at the end of the month. My trip in a nutshell.
Hold thumbs.
Monday, September 21, 2009
A sane one.
The naughty Aussie chef, Dylan. He's 21 and cooks up whatever you ask him to. He's also the object of Yuko's affection. This boy's having the flippin time of his life, comes to work every morning with bloodshot eyes and refers to the Hostel as The Zoo. My sentiments exactly guy. He lives with a guy from Paraguay who's a parrot. His entire vocab consists of only a couple of English sentences. He is known to say: Ofcourse! or Good Job! Actually, those are the only two he says. After the 567 time he says something like that, how does one respond??
A good sign.
This is what happens when your Japanese roommate falls in love: She spends her time folding origami hearts out of dollar bills...Ode written on a paper plane.
Dear Lover o mine,
you beautiful thing!
The first time I clapped eyes on you my heart unfolded to a size I didn't know it could, colored itself red and put on its dancing shoes without asking permission.
That party-heart seeked you out like an unruly magnet and I was a willing slave. You made my knees weak, my world new, and after spending about 2 minutes with you I knew that we would change each other.
My world opened up like a oyster and love and happiness flew into it to make unexpected pearls of joy. I was a blubbering heap of mush, a champion among people. My heart stopped daily, then went into overdrive when you called. My health deteriorated. I felt better than I had in years.
The truth is that you're in the Top Three Best Things that ever happened to me.
So:
Thank you for three great years of loving you.
Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for being the most excellent mirror I could have asked for. You showed me up no end.
We broke up three months ago and I am certain that its the right thing for now even though I don't always want to believe it and the truth is I haven't let you go.
This is a Bad since it interferes with my happiness and so I have to let you go in as many different ways as its going to take for me to let you go.
So today I let you go like a pretty balloon in the late afternoon and watch you drift slowly out of the parameters of my life and into the night.
I wish you the absolute best in the future,
may you flourish and grow.
May you learn to fly helicopters and find joy in the little things.
I'm rooting for you.
Yours truly,
Alice
you beautiful thing!
The first time I clapped eyes on you my heart unfolded to a size I didn't know it could, colored itself red and put on its dancing shoes without asking permission.
That party-heart seeked you out like an unruly magnet and I was a willing slave. You made my knees weak, my world new, and after spending about 2 minutes with you I knew that we would change each other.
My world opened up like a oyster and love and happiness flew into it to make unexpected pearls of joy. I was a blubbering heap of mush, a champion among people. My heart stopped daily, then went into overdrive when you called. My health deteriorated. I felt better than I had in years.
The truth is that you're in the Top Three Best Things that ever happened to me.
So:
Thank you for three great years of loving you.
Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for being the most excellent mirror I could have asked for. You showed me up no end.
We broke up three months ago and I am certain that its the right thing for now even though I don't always want to believe it and the truth is I haven't let you go.
This is a Bad since it interferes with my happiness and so I have to let you go in as many different ways as its going to take for me to let you go.
So today I let you go like a pretty balloon in the late afternoon and watch you drift slowly out of the parameters of my life and into the night.
I wish you the absolute best in the future,
may you flourish and grow.
May you learn to fly helicopters and find joy in the little things.
I'm rooting for you.
Yours truly,
Alice
Sunday, September 20, 2009
SF friends.
A true story. Spent a beautiful Sunday braaiing at my friends Dalia and Emily's house. They live in the Haight/Ashbury district in San Francisco, and Janis Joplin lived 2 doors down. This sign is spraypainted on their steps outside.
That would be miss Dalia Burde. She grew up in SA but has been living in the US since she was 19. This woman is like turbo-powered Red Bull on rocket fuel. With as much love and kindness to boot.
Emily is on the left with the big smiles, she's the loveliest new friend I've made in years. Happiness radiates out of her like crazy. Respect lady!
And this would be typical mode of transport for SF. Handy indeed.
A Sunday well spent. Thanks for the love and kindness D&E, duly noted and deeply appreciated.
Alice.
Awake
"How is it you can all talk so nicely?" Alice said, hoping to get it into a better temper by a compliment. "I've been in many gardens before, but none of the flowers could talk."
"Put your hand down, and feel the ground," said the Tiger-Lily. "Then you'll know why." Alice did so.
"It's very hard," she said; "but I don't see what that has to do with it."
"In most gardens," the Tiger-Lily said, "they make the beds too soft - so that the flowers are always asleep."
Assembly.
There is nothing to be done when it comes to matters of the heart.
It takes time to separate yourself, re-assemble yourself and to let go of past expectations, hopes and dreams.
So I go on my travels through America, sometimes as a traveling gypsy filled with freedom and unlimited options, and sometimes as a lonely girl living in a world long past.
Only time.
I need more time.
It takes time to separate yourself, re-assemble yourself and to let go of past expectations, hopes and dreams.
So I go on my travels through America, sometimes as a traveling gypsy filled with freedom and unlimited options, and sometimes as a lonely girl living in a world long past.
Only time.
I need more time.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Dear Universe,
You always come through for me, even though sometimes you take your sweet merry time about it.
I love my new roommates.
They sleep alot, are quiet and considerate and soft sensitive types just like yours truly.
It's a match made in heaven.
Besides for that I got a charming call from friend Emily who says she might have a house that I can sit from
8 - 20 October, which I have deeply positive feelings about. Free living and no cleaning! There might even be a live pet that I can pet to get rid of some of my affectionate feelings if all goes well. I might kill the poor thing with love.
If I get the gig I can shove off to LA after the 20th and then travel till December 1st, when I will be back in NY with the good cousin Jana.
All and all I might be looking at another 2 weeks of cleaning the most gynormous kitchen in the world. And then more travel.
Sweet,sweet Universe,
Alice
You always come through for me, even though sometimes you take your sweet merry time about it.
I love my new roommates.
They sleep alot, are quiet and considerate and soft sensitive types just like yours truly.
It's a match made in heaven.
Besides for that I got a charming call from friend Emily who says she might have a house that I can sit from
8 - 20 October, which I have deeply positive feelings about. Free living and no cleaning! There might even be a live pet that I can pet to get rid of some of my affectionate feelings if all goes well. I might kill the poor thing with love.
If I get the gig I can shove off to LA after the 20th and then travel till December 1st, when I will be back in NY with the good cousin Jana.
All and all I might be looking at another 2 weeks of cleaning the most gynormous kitchen in the world. And then more travel.
Sweet,sweet Universe,
Alice
This is important people.
Dear friend-person,
hello there,
If you read this blog and you like it, please join me followers on the left of this screen.
It looks impressive if there are lots of people following me and generally gives me a sense of well-being. It can also put me in line to be noticed by important blog-type people who dole out prizes once a year to people who write enormous amounts of nonsense on a daily basis for their own amusement.
Some people have encountered some difficulty in succeeding this feat of being a follower of my blog. If you are one of those people, I apologise. I don't know what the problem is, but I'm here to say: Keep Trying!
Don't give up!
Be a winner!
Be a friend-person and follow my blog!
Love your work,
Alice
hello there,
If you read this blog and you like it, please join me followers on the left of this screen.
It looks impressive if there are lots of people following me and generally gives me a sense of well-being. It can also put me in line to be noticed by important blog-type people who dole out prizes once a year to people who write enormous amounts of nonsense on a daily basis for their own amusement.
Some people have encountered some difficulty in succeeding this feat of being a follower of my blog. If you are one of those people, I apologise. I don't know what the problem is, but I'm here to say: Keep Trying!
Don't give up!
Be a winner!
Be a friend-person and follow my blog!
Love your work,
Alice
Growing.
"I wish you wouldn't squeeze so," said the Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. "I can hardly breathe."
"I can't help it," said Alice very meekly: "I'm growing."
"You've got no right to grow here," said the Dormouse.
"Don't talk nonsense," said Alice more boldly: "you know you're growing too."
"Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace," said the Dormouse: "not in this ridiculous fashion." And he got up very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Dreams and memories
When I'm in a certain amount of emotional discomfort I either day dream about my future or live in memories of my past. You may have picked up on this in some of my previous notes.
Living in either of these timezones is slightly more predictable and comfortable sometimes than living in the Now. Which can be fun.
But mostly memories are just foggy illusions, completely insubstantial and exist only in my head which is a big dark roundish space no one else can really access unless I yank something out of it and throw it onto this here piece of paper.
Dreams and memories both take me from my life in San Francisco, which is kinda silly considering how much I want to be here and how amazing this opportunity is. I don't want to get too wrapped up in that. Besides, I can never have the past back Universe, but I can create a flippin awesome future.
Will you help me?
NB: Thank you for a beautiful sunny day in SF. And for a room I can get some sleep in. (I was knocked out for a good 3 hours just now and feel better already.)
Your old friend,
Alice the Dreamer
Memory 2
Once we almost drowned.
We were at Kogelbay. You went for a surf whilst I lay in the shade of a rock drawing pictures in the sand. Students were having a braai further down the beach and I remember the smell of sea and meat, the seagulls circling in the sky, a blood red sun.
You'd been in the water for 2 hours before I decided to go for a swim. I didn't see you getting out and putting your board down, but I remember your hands on my hips and the curve of your mouth when I turned to greet you in the water. Everything faded to blur around you as we drifted about, only partially in this world, mostly in our own.
We were still entangled when I realised that the shore had become a haze in the distance. We tried to swim back but the current kept us in place and the harder we fought the less we moved. (I had had dreams like this before, nightmares of paddling till exhaustion and drowning like a wet leaf.)
And then: seconds feel like crystal clear hours. I'm drifting above my body and watching the disaster take place. This is my sticky ending, the way it's going to play out. I reason with God. Is this how I am to die? Here, out at at sea, am I to lose everything to heavy water and giant sky?
You push me to shore everytime a small wave surges past in the hope that it will be enough to propel me out, but you're tired. We're so far out that the sea is almost a dam. Tears on my face. The sun blinding us. You push again hard and this time I manage to clamber onto a sandbank and catch my breath. But on turning to find you you have disappeared under the water and now I'm waving to the people on the beach, hysterical, hoarse screams muffled by crashing waves.
That day I pleaded with the Universe to deliver you back to me, even if just for a short time. In that moment I knew that I wanted you, that it was real, that it was important.
I must've been right.
You emerged seconds later and collapsed at the edge of the waves exhausted where I crouched over you and cried like a child as a few bewildered students watched in scattered formation.
We were at Kogelbay. You went for a surf whilst I lay in the shade of a rock drawing pictures in the sand. Students were having a braai further down the beach and I remember the smell of sea and meat, the seagulls circling in the sky, a blood red sun.
You'd been in the water for 2 hours before I decided to go for a swim. I didn't see you getting out and putting your board down, but I remember your hands on my hips and the curve of your mouth when I turned to greet you in the water. Everything faded to blur around you as we drifted about, only partially in this world, mostly in our own.
We were still entangled when I realised that the shore had become a haze in the distance. We tried to swim back but the current kept us in place and the harder we fought the less we moved. (I had had dreams like this before, nightmares of paddling till exhaustion and drowning like a wet leaf.)
And then: seconds feel like crystal clear hours. I'm drifting above my body and watching the disaster take place. This is my sticky ending, the way it's going to play out. I reason with God. Is this how I am to die? Here, out at at sea, am I to lose everything to heavy water and giant sky?
You push me to shore everytime a small wave surges past in the hope that it will be enough to propel me out, but you're tired. We're so far out that the sea is almost a dam. Tears on my face. The sun blinding us. You push again hard and this time I manage to clamber onto a sandbank and catch my breath. But on turning to find you you have disappeared under the water and now I'm waving to the people on the beach, hysterical, hoarse screams muffled by crashing waves.
That day I pleaded with the Universe to deliver you back to me, even if just for a short time. In that moment I knew that I wanted you, that it was real, that it was important.
I must've been right.
You emerged seconds later and collapsed at the edge of the waves exhausted where I crouched over you and cried like a child as a few bewildered students watched in scattered formation.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The dark cloud.
Alice is in a mood. A black cloud with thunder and lightning has been following her around the past 48 hours and everyone can see it. Thusly Alice is left alone. Alice needs to breathe. To sleep. To move to a different room. And she has!
So that would be the good news:
A fellow cleaner left the city today and a bed opened up in a room containing one Russian (I know, they're everywhere) and one Japanese girl (who is hoping to go to circus school). Alice moved into that lovely bed before the previous sleeper had completely lifted her ass off it. Ah yes.The promise of silence, or at least congeniality.
I know I should sound more excited about this but I'm not feeling excited, I'm feeling generally moody and pissed off. Which is actually a welcome change from feeling melancholic and sad. (All this might be ascribed to the fact that I ran out of my herbal hormone boosters about a month and a half ago. God I loved those pills. They regulate your hormone production and they totally changed my life.)
I worked a double today (in between moving) and now have blisters FROM WASHING DISHES. That's crazy talk people. I washed so many dishes today my mother would've given me a standing ovation. I'm trying to think of my hostel as being a very strange kind of ashram. A place where I can spiritually grow through hardship and that sort of crap. Or sumthin.
I walk around most days with my emotional center hanging out for everyone to see, like a rogue tit I can't subdue. Slap bang in the middle of my chest. Most of the time mine is buzzing with... well, with emotion. All kinds. I listen to music, bang, my emotional center goes into overdrive and opens right up. You need to worry when a song by Taylor Swift makes you feel emotional people. And that's what's happening. I'm folding washing and the next thing I know Taylor Swift has me crying. I mean am I for real?
I guess all of this is good. They say anger is... well its one of the stages of bereavement and mourning. And I guess that's what I'm doing.
It would have been nice to have a little privacy doing it though.
Did I mention how good this Corona tastes right now?
So that would be the good news:
A fellow cleaner left the city today and a bed opened up in a room containing one Russian (I know, they're everywhere) and one Japanese girl (who is hoping to go to circus school). Alice moved into that lovely bed before the previous sleeper had completely lifted her ass off it. Ah yes.The promise of silence, or at least congeniality.
I know I should sound more excited about this but I'm not feeling excited, I'm feeling generally moody and pissed off. Which is actually a welcome change from feeling melancholic and sad. (All this might be ascribed to the fact that I ran out of my herbal hormone boosters about a month and a half ago. God I loved those pills. They regulate your hormone production and they totally changed my life.)
I worked a double today (in between moving) and now have blisters FROM WASHING DISHES. That's crazy talk people. I washed so many dishes today my mother would've given me a standing ovation. I'm trying to think of my hostel as being a very strange kind of ashram. A place where I can spiritually grow through hardship and that sort of crap. Or sumthin.
I walk around most days with my emotional center hanging out for everyone to see, like a rogue tit I can't subdue. Slap bang in the middle of my chest. Most of the time mine is buzzing with... well, with emotion. All kinds. I listen to music, bang, my emotional center goes into overdrive and opens right up. You need to worry when a song by Taylor Swift makes you feel emotional people. And that's what's happening. I'm folding washing and the next thing I know Taylor Swift has me crying. I mean am I for real?
I guess all of this is good. They say anger is... well its one of the stages of bereavement and mourning. And I guess that's what I'm doing.
It would have been nice to have a little privacy doing it though.
Did I mention how good this Corona tastes right now?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Adapt or die.
It's official:
The Russians sleep between 3am and 10am.
Either I'm going to adjust to their schedule or die from sleep deprivation.
Make me strong Lord.
(That's right. I'm moving on to God now.)
The Russians sleep between 3am and 10am.
Either I'm going to adjust to their schedule or die from sleep deprivation.
Make me strong Lord.
(That's right. I'm moving on to God now.)
Dear Universe
Today I'm halfway through my trip!
And it shows.
Here's to another three months, may they be as filled with wonder, excitement and beauty as the first three.
May I learn what I need to learn.
May I open up like a flower.
Thanks Universe, what an awesome ride.
Friends for life,
Alice
Today I'm halfway through my trip!
And it shows.
- The death of Cellini Euroline.
- The holes in my socks. All of them.
- My 1 pair of smelly shoes that I wear everyday.
- The looseness of my clothes.
Here's to another three months, may they be as filled with wonder, excitement and beauty as the first three.
May I learn what I need to learn.
May I open up like a flower.
Thanks Universe, what an awesome ride.
Friends for life,
Alice
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Memory
In 2006 we attended a wedding together.
It was outside Tulbagh on a farm in desolate wild countryside. I was in love: your heart, body, the irreparable sadness that stained your face.
On the last day we went for a swim in the dam, do you remember?
I swam out first in the morning air, pushing the water aside. It was quiet except for ducks waddling about and the slow humm of insects baking in the sun. You sat to the side chewing on a stem of grass, following my slow progress. When I had almost reached the other side you walked around to where I was heading, slipped into the water and waited for me. When I reached you we kissed and embraced. You picked me up and whispered for me to hold on.
I leaned my cheek on your shoulder and the water stirred around us as you pushed back into the dam, slowly walking with me, clasping me to your chest. I'll look after you, you whispered in my ear. It's ok, you're here with me. Don't be afraid. I'll be by your side. I'll never leave you behind.
It was outside Tulbagh on a farm in desolate wild countryside. I was in love: your heart, body, the irreparable sadness that stained your face.
On the last day we went for a swim in the dam, do you remember?
I swam out first in the morning air, pushing the water aside. It was quiet except for ducks waddling about and the slow humm of insects baking in the sun. You sat to the side chewing on a stem of grass, following my slow progress. When I had almost reached the other side you walked around to where I was heading, slipped into the water and waited for me. When I reached you we kissed and embraced. You picked me up and whispered for me to hold on.
I leaned my cheek on your shoulder and the water stirred around us as you pushed back into the dam, slowly walking with me, clasping me to your chest. I'll look after you, you whispered in my ear. It's ok, you're here with me. Don't be afraid. I'll be by your side. I'll never leave you behind.
My room
At the top: the entrance to our cave. The door is covered in ads for parties that the hostel has hosted in the past. To the right of the door is our lockers. That's where you put things you don't want to get stolen.
Bottom: A huge fridge. Top left from the fridge is my notorious nesting spot. To the right is the place where the Russians bunk.
I hope these pictures clarify. The room is small. Three people should not live in this close proximity to one another. It should be illegal.
RIP Cellini Euroline
Even though I only met him in his Golden Years there was an instant connection between us and it was that connection that probably got him in the end.
Rest in peace Cellini Euroline.
I hope you incarnate as something other than plastic in the near future.
Your friend, always,
Alice
Monday, September 14, 2009
The search continues.
My friend Roxanne knows me best.
She is a South African who grew up in America, and she says I won't enjoy Hawaii.
I know. Who would have thought it possible, but I hear her. It's going to cost a bundle to get there and back to the mainland, and if you're going to be there for an extended stay, there isn't a hell of alot to do.
So I'm open to suggestions. I am looking for big, wide open space. I want some beauty, no more big cities for a bit. Something rural and beautiful. A porch, a book. I need a vacation from my vacation.
Anyone ideas?
Remember: low budget is key.
She is a South African who grew up in America, and she says I won't enjoy Hawaii.
I know. Who would have thought it possible, but I hear her. It's going to cost a bundle to get there and back to the mainland, and if you're going to be there for an extended stay, there isn't a hell of alot to do.
So I'm open to suggestions. I am looking for big, wide open space. I want some beauty, no more big cities for a bit. Something rural and beautiful. A porch, a book. I need a vacation from my vacation.
Anyone ideas?
Remember: low budget is key.
The Loves
When I was nine I had a bad case of the Loves for a boy in my class, Jan-Willem Lotz. I thought he was hot.
I would wait patiently for him each morning outside our classroom, undeterred by silly distractions like friends, ballgames and my snotty nose. Eventually he would come bouncing along in his small grey shorts, a maroon tie around his neck. Ag jirre he was cute.
But then it would happen. Within seconds of his arrival I would burst into hysterical fits of giggles, followed swiftly by verbal or physical abuse, all directed squarely at him, my one true Loves. It was my special way of letting him know that I liked him and it came as naturally to me as most other things that you never spend any time thinking about.
One rainy day I whacked him over the head with an umbrella. He screamed, cried, and then went and told on me. I was sent to the principal's office and almost died of the pain and humiliation. My Love had turned me in. How could he not have known that my brutal attack was in fact a declaration of my deep and unending devotion? Confusion followed. It still persists.
I am "flirt-challenged", so to speak, mostly because I'm deeply unsubtle when it comes to attraction. I find it hard to make small talk with someone when all I want to do is have them shut up and rip off my clothes. I become slightly awkward. I stumble over my words. I over-analyse the situation and wonder why they haven't stopped mid-sentence to kiss me. Thusly, if I'm attracted to you, I might:
Dylan, a 21 year old Ausie staying in the Hostel has been imparting advice on the Art of the Flirt. He says the trick is to talk very casually and to make sure that there is lots of physical contact happening, as in: touching his arm, brushing up against him, laughing and smiling at the stupid jokes the oke is telling, that sort of thing. Sounds like an awful lot of work to me.
I hope it doesn't turn out to be my fatal flaw.
I would wait patiently for him each morning outside our classroom, undeterred by silly distractions like friends, ballgames and my snotty nose. Eventually he would come bouncing along in his small grey shorts, a maroon tie around his neck. Ag jirre he was cute.
But then it would happen. Within seconds of his arrival I would burst into hysterical fits of giggles, followed swiftly by verbal or physical abuse, all directed squarely at him, my one true Loves. It was my special way of letting him know that I liked him and it came as naturally to me as most other things that you never spend any time thinking about.
One rainy day I whacked him over the head with an umbrella. He screamed, cried, and then went and told on me. I was sent to the principal's office and almost died of the pain and humiliation. My Love had turned me in. How could he not have known that my brutal attack was in fact a declaration of my deep and unending devotion? Confusion followed. It still persists.
I am "flirt-challenged", so to speak, mostly because I'm deeply unsubtle when it comes to attraction. I find it hard to make small talk with someone when all I want to do is have them shut up and rip off my clothes. I become slightly awkward. I stumble over my words. I over-analyse the situation and wonder why they haven't stopped mid-sentence to kiss me. Thusly, if I'm attracted to you, I might:
- Completely ignore you
- hit you over the head with an umbrella
- ask you if I may kiss you (hoping you don't have a girlfriend lurking with violence in her heart).
Dylan, a 21 year old Ausie staying in the Hostel has been imparting advice on the Art of the Flirt. He says the trick is to talk very casually and to make sure that there is lots of physical contact happening, as in: touching his arm, brushing up against him, laughing and smiling at the stupid jokes the oke is telling, that sort of thing. Sounds like an awful lot of work to me.
I hope it doesn't turn out to be my fatal flaw.
"I wish I could manage to be glad!" The Queen said, "Only I never can remember the rule. You must be very happy, living in this wood, and being glad whenever you like!"
"Only it is so very lonely here!" Alice said in a melancholy voice; and, at the thought of her loneliness, two large tears came rolling down her cheeks.
"Oh, don't go on like that!" cried the poor Queen, wringing her hands in despair. "Consider what a great girl you are. Consider what a long way you've come today. Consider what o' clock it is. Consider anything, only don't cry!" Alice could not help laughing at this, even in the midst of her tears.
"Can you keep from crying by considering things?" she asked. "That's the way it's done," the Queen said with great decision: "nobody can do two things at once, you know."
Sunday, September 13, 2009
The Lone Ranger
Travel by nature is a solitary experience. (If you're traveling alone obviously.)
No connection, no matter how intense or true, will last for longer than the time that you spend in one place. And usually that's not very long.
In four days time I will be exactly halfway through my journey. That means that I've been out of SA for exactly 3 months.
It feels like much, much longer than that.
No connection, no matter how intense or true, will last for longer than the time that you spend in one place. And usually that's not very long.
In four days time I will be exactly halfway through my journey. That means that I've been out of SA for exactly 3 months.
It feels like much, much longer than that.
Hugh Jackman
The Russians are in love with him.
They find interviews with him on the internet and then watch it with Russian voice-overs and giggle alot. They buy new bra's at Victoria's Secret and then wear see-through tops to show them off.
The Russians are bouncy and they speak alot of Russian. They're pretty consistent about that.
They don't sleep. They drink insane amounts of alcohol and recover from it surprisingly quickly.
They live on food that has been left behind by travelers passing through and they never have any cash.
They don't know how they're going to get home.
I guess they're pretty brave, to be here so young.
I wouldn't have been able to do it.
Hats off.
Now move next door please.
They find interviews with him on the internet and then watch it with Russian voice-overs and giggle alot. They buy new bra's at Victoria's Secret and then wear see-through tops to show them off.
The Russians are bouncy and they speak alot of Russian. They're pretty consistent about that.
They don't sleep. They drink insane amounts of alcohol and recover from it surprisingly quickly.
They live on food that has been left behind by travelers passing through and they never have any cash.
They don't know how they're going to get home.
I guess they're pretty brave, to be here so young.
I wouldn't have been able to do it.
Hats off.
Now move next door please.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
The island.
First winter rain fell in San Francisco this morning,
accompanied by uncharacteristic thunder and lightning through the night.
Alice doesn't care though.
Alice is going to the land of milk and honey in the not so distant future
and is so excited by the prospect that she is struggling to sleep.
Life is really, really good right now.
accompanied by uncharacteristic thunder and lightning through the night.
Alice doesn't care though.
Alice is going to the land of milk and honey in the not so distant future
and is so excited by the prospect that she is struggling to sleep.
Life is really, really good right now.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Excitement happens.
During planning future of my trip slowly realising that I need to consider winter in equation.
This is upsetting. I skipped a winter when I came here and I'm not prepared to give up now.
Thinking the Hawaiin islands might be good. Thinking I will get a job at a hostel on an island and
hang out there till December.
Hell Yeh!
This is upsetting. I skipped a winter when I came here and I'm not prepared to give up now.
Thinking the Hawaiin islands might be good. Thinking I will get a job at a hostel on an island and
hang out there till December.
Hell Yeh!
The Cold War.
The Russians are getting out of hand.
There are now four, two living with me: Katja, Eyvgenia, Darina and another nameless one.
Have realised they are 19 which means I am 14 years older than them.
This morning at 4h30 came back from clubbing screaming and laughing and generally turning my thoughts pathological. Also skimping off work and go to our room whenever they see a gap because generally they are hungover as all hell during the day.
Communication gap also uncool. Darina talks alot but have no idea what she's saying and just nod and smile.
Hide the pills.
There are now four, two living with me: Katja, Eyvgenia, Darina and another nameless one.
Have realised they are 19 which means I am 14 years older than them.
This morning at 4h30 came back from clubbing screaming and laughing and generally turning my thoughts pathological. Also skimping off work and go to our room whenever they see a gap because generally they are hungover as all hell during the day.
Communication gap also uncool. Darina talks alot but have no idea what she's saying and just nod and smile.
Hide the pills.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Connected
Writing this blog has been the most amazing experience.
Not only has it been the thing that has kept me sane but I've just had the most amazing sense of support. Every now and again I realise that someone out there is reading about my journey that I haven't seen in years and it blows me away.
Thanks for reading folks. It means the world to me.
Not only has it been the thing that has kept me sane but I've just had the most amazing sense of support. Every now and again I realise that someone out there is reading about my journey that I haven't seen in years and it blows me away.
Thanks for reading folks. It means the world to me.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Alice in pains.
Dear Universe,
Letting go is hard.
I don't like it so much today.
I might be in the "it gets worse before it gets better" part of my healing, but
It might suck less if you threw in a massage, mani and pedi.
And stuck a needle of morphene into my heart.
Just a suggestion.
Yours truly,
Alice
Letting go is hard.
I don't like it so much today.
I might be in the "it gets worse before it gets better" part of my healing, but
It might suck less if you threw in a massage, mani and pedi.
And stuck a needle of morphene into my heart.
Just a suggestion.
Yours truly,
Alice
Greener pastures.
Have come back to two Russian 20 year olds living in my room.
Looked almost as excited to see me as I was to see them. Spend their time watching people getting Punk'd with Russian voice overs on the Web. Yup. Have come to America to watch Punk'd in Russian.
Right this second am perched in my birdie nest bed watching one attack the other one's hair with Clairol Blonde. Smell might kill me before the spuitpoep does. For the rest they spend alot of time tweasing eyebrows and speaking Russian to each other.
Need new battlefield.
Looked almost as excited to see me as I was to see them. Spend their time watching people getting Punk'd with Russian voice overs on the Web. Yup. Have come to America to watch Punk'd in Russian.
Right this second am perched in my birdie nest bed watching one attack the other one's hair with Clairol Blonde. Smell might kill me before the spuitpoep does. For the rest they spend alot of time tweasing eyebrows and speaking Russian to each other.
Need new battlefield.
Dear Universe,
The spuitpoep is strong with me. Not surprising since I've been eating absolute crap and inhaling playa in the desert for a week. That evil white powder probably ate its way through my lungs and down into my stomach. Also starting to feel somewhat nauseous which is just great. Really just great. Can you speak to someone about this please? I'm supposed to be back in the kitchen in the morning and it aint going to be pretty if I'm throwing up all over the show.
But besides for that:
Universe, I have a request. Two in fact:
Thanks for everything, you did pretty darn good on the B Man wishlist.
I appreciate it,
Alice
The spuitpoep is strong with me. Not surprising since I've been eating absolute crap and inhaling playa in the desert for a week. That evil white powder probably ate its way through my lungs and down into my stomach. Also starting to feel somewhat nauseous which is just great. Really just great. Can you speak to someone about this please? I'm supposed to be back in the kitchen in the morning and it aint going to be pretty if I'm throwing up all over the show.
But besides for that:
Universe, I have a request. Two in fact:
- Send me some readings. I am good and ready and mobile and keen. Did my first one in a while this morning and immediately felt better and then instantly worse when I got home and the spuitpoep kicked in. No I'm serious. I worked out that if I do another 59 readings I will have the same amount of money I arrived with. Sounds good to me. Then, when I'm well loaded up on readings and bucks:
- Please help me to find a nice next destination. That's right! I'm ready to move on to greener pastures and I need some direction. Kinda over doing the big city thing for now. Hey were you around when they were making "The Bridges of Madison County"? That would be nice. Big open expanse. Some farms. Conservative folk. (I'll go down like a charm there!) Sure I want to go visit Andre in LA for a couple of days but after that I'm ready to hit... (please insert here). Is it Ohio? The South? Am I going to Alabama? Am I going to go see the Mississippi River Universe??? I love not knowing.
Thanks for everything, you did pretty darn good on the B Man wishlist.
I appreciate it,
Alice
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Somewhere
"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don't much care where - " said Alice.
"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.
" - so long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation.
Life of Elle.
Americans understand about having fun. After a week of living in the Nevada desert with 50 000 of them this is now abundantly clear to me. They have it and then they yank it by its chain and suck the marrow out of it till its bone dry and then they get a new bone. In short: they crazy folk.
How do I go about describing my week in the desert.
Close your eyes. I want you to imagine Alice frolicking through Wonderland in her little blue outfit. You know the scene right? She has long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and is just having the most wonderful time when suddenly she comes around a corner and finds Tankgirl panting away with her pants around her ankles getting orally gladdened by the Mad Hatter, the mouse and a few other bystanders. Now imagine the look on little Alice's face. That is the exact look I have right now, and it might stay with me for awhile.
Black Rock City exists for 1 week only each year in the Nevada desert on something that is called the "Playa" but should rather be called "hard nasty white powder that gets into everything including your orifices and eats away at your flesh". Combine that with 40 degree (and up) temperatures in the day, dust storms that can last 24 hours, porta-loos used by all 50 000 participants and you have a basic idea of the challenging conditions you face at BRC. I spent the entire week living on Granola bars and Oreos because food is the furthest thing from your mind.
NOW
Add lots of naked people on drugs and dress the others in tutus, gas masks and goggles. Throw about a couple of art installations, a whole lot of art cars, neon lights and big, raging fires and BINGO. The Burning Man Festival!
It's traditional to have a Playa Name. Some of the ones I encountered were: Fruitloop, Crunchy, Beast, Mango, Cowboy, Pointer etc. I arrived as Anel and when I got to the first "Anal" I became Elle. So I spent my week as Elle and quite enjoyed being her.
Here is a brief rundown of my days in Black Rock City:
Day 1
Driver Mauricio is 4 hours late. 6 hour journey to Burning Man turns into a 9 hour journey. Arrive BRC at 4am. My nerves are shot because I hate driving at night. Edgy and sleep deprived. Drive around searching for camp. Can't find camp. Part ways with driver who loses keys to car. Pass out in sleeping tent for a couple of hours till awoken by overwhelming thirst and a burnt face. Find water. Find camp around 4pm. Start feeling the Happy. Put up tent and cute little outift as the sun sets and the lights come out. Run around the Playa getting drinks from naked old barmen with great sense of humor. Watch fire show. Meet random strangers. Have the best friggin time ever and get drunk. All is good.
Day 2
Wander around the Playa to see what there is to see. Get free costumes from various costume shops. Get coffee. Drink lots of water. Get a pee cup to avoid sitting on any loos. Get my hair washed at the hair wash. Consider getting my body washed at the Carcass wash by 6 strangers but decide against it. (Spend a good amount of time observing other people getting washed though.) Back to camp. Meet crazy people. Go out with Beast Fruitloop and Pointer. They are all from Chicago and I really get on with them. Pointer decides to wear humungous silver platform boots and falls down alot. He falls, rolls and gets back up again all in one fluid motion. I am impressed. I also witness a threesome and another guy jerking off in the corner. The Alice face begins.
Day 3
I get depressed. Like super depressed. I'm in the most amazingly decadent crazy place on the planet and all I can do is cry and cry. Don't really know why. Wander out to the Temple which will be burnt on Sunday night. People write inscriptions to their loved ones on the walls - some go to great lengths to bring all kinds of memorabilia to leave at the temple to be burnt in remembrance of people, relationships and loved ones who have passed away. Write a long inscription on the wall and cry uncontrollably. Sob into the night and feel like a huge weight is being sobbed right out of my heart. I can't stop the crying.
Day 4
I go to listen to some music at the main tent. There is a woman playing the most beautiful music I have ever heard and so I sob some more. Completely distraught by the fact that I am now entering my second day of sobbing at this amazing festival and hoping it will end soon. I feel convinced that the second singer will be more upbeat but instead she sings the entire "Boys for Pele" album by Tori Amos which brings me almost to the edge. By sunset I start feeling a sense of completion and I put my funky outfit on again.
Day 5
I really thought about it and I don't know about this day. I just don't know. Toothpaste.
Day 6
I cue for an hour to see the Tarot reader in the main tent. He gives me the news I knew I had to hear. My journey for now is only about me and not about anyone else. I should stop looking for relationship right now. It's not going to happen. I feel strangely relieved to hear this news coming out of someone else's mouth and realise that it is really, really good advice. This is my time, my rage, my walk. I intend to shake my ass whilst I walk it. Turning point for Alice.
Day 7
Sandstorm. It doesn't stop. Gets into everything and under everything. My eyes keep watering and my nose bleeds from the Playa. Hate the fucking sandstorm and wish it would stop. By the time we burn the man I have completely forgotten about the storm and stand in absolute awe as it slowly dissolves into a fiery end. There are fireworks and happy people everywhere. I feel semi-lonely but really proud to be there and proud of my journey up to now.
Day 8
Have beautiful connection with Beast from Chicago and it means the world to me. He gives me his Emergency Medical Team badge from back when he worked as a paramedic and my heart goes all mushy. Pack up and ready to go by 12 but Cowboy only ready by 4pm. Another night time drive. Hate it big time. Cowboy is a Italian-Jewish bachelor-lawyer in his forties with alot of brain and not so much social skills. Stuff blow off the roof of the car twice. He drives around for an hour trying to find his plastic forks on the Interstate. I become somewhat concerned for his mental well being. Convince him to sleep over in Reno and we share a bed at the Aloha Inn for $70. Drive the rest of the way the next day. Altogether it takes 12 hours to get back to SF. I am dead on arrival.
THE END
How do I go about describing my week in the desert.
Close your eyes. I want you to imagine Alice frolicking through Wonderland in her little blue outfit. You know the scene right? She has long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes and is just having the most wonderful time when suddenly she comes around a corner and finds Tankgirl panting away with her pants around her ankles getting orally gladdened by the Mad Hatter, the mouse and a few other bystanders. Now imagine the look on little Alice's face. That is the exact look I have right now, and it might stay with me for awhile.
Black Rock City exists for 1 week only each year in the Nevada desert on something that is called the "Playa" but should rather be called "hard nasty white powder that gets into everything including your orifices and eats away at your flesh". Combine that with 40 degree (and up) temperatures in the day, dust storms that can last 24 hours, porta-loos used by all 50 000 participants and you have a basic idea of the challenging conditions you face at BRC. I spent the entire week living on Granola bars and Oreos because food is the furthest thing from your mind.
NOW
Add lots of naked people on drugs and dress the others in tutus, gas masks and goggles. Throw about a couple of art installations, a whole lot of art cars, neon lights and big, raging fires and BINGO. The Burning Man Festival!
It's traditional to have a Playa Name. Some of the ones I encountered were: Fruitloop, Crunchy, Beast, Mango, Cowboy, Pointer etc. I arrived as Anel and when I got to the first "Anal" I became Elle. So I spent my week as Elle and quite enjoyed being her.
Here is a brief rundown of my days in Black Rock City:
Day 1
Driver Mauricio is 4 hours late. 6 hour journey to Burning Man turns into a 9 hour journey. Arrive BRC at 4am. My nerves are shot because I hate driving at night. Edgy and sleep deprived. Drive around searching for camp. Can't find camp. Part ways with driver who loses keys to car. Pass out in sleeping tent for a couple of hours till awoken by overwhelming thirst and a burnt face. Find water. Find camp around 4pm. Start feeling the Happy. Put up tent and cute little outift as the sun sets and the lights come out. Run around the Playa getting drinks from naked old barmen with great sense of humor. Watch fire show. Meet random strangers. Have the best friggin time ever and get drunk. All is good.
Day 2
Wander around the Playa to see what there is to see. Get free costumes from various costume shops. Get coffee. Drink lots of water. Get a pee cup to avoid sitting on any loos. Get my hair washed at the hair wash. Consider getting my body washed at the Carcass wash by 6 strangers but decide against it. (Spend a good amount of time observing other people getting washed though.) Back to camp. Meet crazy people. Go out with Beast Fruitloop and Pointer. They are all from Chicago and I really get on with them. Pointer decides to wear humungous silver platform boots and falls down alot. He falls, rolls and gets back up again all in one fluid motion. I am impressed. I also witness a threesome and another guy jerking off in the corner. The Alice face begins.
Day 3
I get depressed. Like super depressed. I'm in the most amazingly decadent crazy place on the planet and all I can do is cry and cry. Don't really know why. Wander out to the Temple which will be burnt on Sunday night. People write inscriptions to their loved ones on the walls - some go to great lengths to bring all kinds of memorabilia to leave at the temple to be burnt in remembrance of people, relationships and loved ones who have passed away. Write a long inscription on the wall and cry uncontrollably. Sob into the night and feel like a huge weight is being sobbed right out of my heart. I can't stop the crying.
Day 4
I go to listen to some music at the main tent. There is a woman playing the most beautiful music I have ever heard and so I sob some more. Completely distraught by the fact that I am now entering my second day of sobbing at this amazing festival and hoping it will end soon. I feel convinced that the second singer will be more upbeat but instead she sings the entire "Boys for Pele" album by Tori Amos which brings me almost to the edge. By sunset I start feeling a sense of completion and I put my funky outfit on again.
Day 5
I really thought about it and I don't know about this day. I just don't know. Toothpaste.
Day 6
I cue for an hour to see the Tarot reader in the main tent. He gives me the news I knew I had to hear. My journey for now is only about me and not about anyone else. I should stop looking for relationship right now. It's not going to happen. I feel strangely relieved to hear this news coming out of someone else's mouth and realise that it is really, really good advice. This is my time, my rage, my walk. I intend to shake my ass whilst I walk it. Turning point for Alice.
Day 7
Sandstorm. It doesn't stop. Gets into everything and under everything. My eyes keep watering and my nose bleeds from the Playa. Hate the fucking sandstorm and wish it would stop. By the time we burn the man I have completely forgotten about the storm and stand in absolute awe as it slowly dissolves into a fiery end. There are fireworks and happy people everywhere. I feel semi-lonely but really proud to be there and proud of my journey up to now.
Day 8
Have beautiful connection with Beast from Chicago and it means the world to me. He gives me his Emergency Medical Team badge from back when he worked as a paramedic and my heart goes all mushy. Pack up and ready to go by 12 but Cowboy only ready by 4pm. Another night time drive. Hate it big time. Cowboy is a Italian-Jewish bachelor-lawyer in his forties with alot of brain and not so much social skills. Stuff blow off the roof of the car twice. He drives around for an hour trying to find his plastic forks on the Interstate. I become somewhat concerned for his mental well being. Convince him to sleep over in Reno and we share a bed at the Aloha Inn for $70. Drive the rest of the way the next day. Altogether it takes 12 hours to get back to SF. I am dead on arrival.
THE END
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