breathe in until you can feel it in your shoulders.


Yesterday was the reading. I know it's silly of me to get so worked up and anxious, but that's what I do, so I couldn't really help it. It's a relief to have it over with, but I had the best, best time. Tuesday half of the class read and the rest of us went to support, so I kind of had a feel for how Wednesday would go. It's crazy how different the experience of hearing a story out loud is from reading it on your own--a lot of the pieces came alive for me in an entirely new way. On Wednesday we read in the Mug, which was smaller and more intimate than the big theater the class used on Tuesday. Anabel dimmed the lights and put on sick music; Liz and Christine set lit candles on the round tables and stools arranged diagonally throughout the space. I was on cookie duty and brought the yummiest thing the Retreat had to offer--those chewy chocolate-chip bad boys, courtesy of the Keebler elves. (Only the best.) I was really surprised by how many people came--there weren't enough seats, so most of us stood. Each person read in front of this incredibly bizarre sculpture, which was hanging from the ceiling (not ours)--an enormous tangled rope, hung with netting and wire and all kinds of objects. I took an inventory to distract myself when I got nervous: Trash bag. Coca-Cola can. Amputated doll arm? Hmm.

Even though I've been stressing for weeks, once I got up there I didn't feel anxious at all. Bernardo wrote the most beautiful introduction for me, which made me laugh and put me at ease. I didn't expect to feel anything but tense, but somehow I just really enjoyed it. This is corny, but it felt like such a gift to be able to read aloud what I've been working on this semester, and to have people there who cared enough to listen. I already miss our class--I feel like it's changed me, opened me up--made me both more internal and more connected to those around me, and certainly more exploratory.

Today it is overcast--weather.com says 77 degrees, but this is definitely a lie. Good news is that it's supposed to be sunny all around when I get to San Francisco next week. I am a little bit in shock that it's so soon. I feel like I have so much to do before then--papers and packing and finals, and how in the world am I going to move all of my shit out of my room and back to the west coast? I need yoga now, please. At least I have three hundred things at home to look forward to--Dolores Park with my bitties, my Fillmore crew, love with Mart and Elana, International Orange, Farmer's Market, being with my family inc. child genius younger brother Ty, the Japanese Tea Garden, Baker Beach, barbecues, big hills, sourdough bread, pounding that city pavement, and this one, of course (people get us confused):

Oh, San Francisco, you pretty thing. See you so soon.

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