Tomorrow will be the six month mark of my return to America and of course I have different emotions and ideas swirling around in me. Although six months is a relatively teeny tiny bit of my life, I feel like I've only just begun to feel solid ground beneath my feet after wading through miles of knee deep mud. Perhaps that sounds a bit over the top, but it really has been very hard and I don't quite know what's next. I don't quite know which way to go now.

Not a single day goes by without my heart nagging at me to see more of the world and avoid long standing commitments to work or school or rental agreements. My mind begrudgingly replies, "Well, heart, that's all well and good but how do you reckon we'll keep it together until this magnificent opportunity arises? We wouldn't make it very far careening down a dark road with no map and only a half tank of petrol, so lets make due with the lesser of evils that are available to us at the present moment." My heart, huffs and puffs a bit then settles down, dismayed but willing to comply with the demands of day-to-day, week-to-week, paycheck-to-paycheck.

So, with that said, I'm soon moving into a flat in Oakland. I'm really worried about my finances and hoping that getting a raise in December will alleviate some of my worries. I was just able to pay the deposit but I only have 2 weeks before I need to come up with December's rent. It's going to be a stretch and I simply can't spend any more money until that's done. I need to keep reminding myself that at least I've got a job, and a fairly good one at that.

When people see something as beautiful
Other things become ugly.
When people see some things as good,
other things become bad.

Being and non-being create each other.
Difficult and easy support each other.
High and low depend on each other.
Before and after follow each other.

Therefore the Master
acts without doing anything.
Things arise and she lets them come;
Things disappear and she lets them go.
She has but doesn't possess
acts but doesn't expect.
When her work is done, she forgets it.
That is why it lasts forever.

excerpt from Tao Te Ching

Paul Stamets: 6 ways mushrooms can save the world

Bat for Lashes - Siren Song (Live at Morning Becomes Eclectic)

I used to be one of those kids whose favorite part of drinking soda was the foamy part on the top. I would look forward to those ten seconds of sweet tingling effervescence before it faded away into the glass. Most people dislike that foam and try to pour their drinks to reduce the frequency of it.

This I pondered last night as I ate Nepalese food by myself on my mother's birthday. The latest failed attempt at having a civilized family dinner allowed me the freedom to pick something new. The end result was a new favorite food. This may be a gross Americanized view of Nepalese food but I feel like it's somewhere in the middle between Indian food and Chinese or Vietnamese food. The favors are not overpowering like in most of the Indian food I've tried, and in the dish I tried, the taste of fresh coriander was at the forefront of the meal, accompanied with mixed veges and mushroom. I even tried a Nepalese beer, ironically called Mustang. I guess that's where the reminiscence of foamy carbonated beverages came into play.

The sun is finally shining in all its glory on my two days off. I'm going to enjoy it by pedaling my ass off on my new (used) bike. She's been sitting in my room all most totally unused while I waited on getting her a lock. She's a bubblegum vintage road bike and spunky as hell. I'm looking forward to getting used to riding again and doing it as well or better than I used to.

Quien fuera. Silvio Rodriguez.

Estoy buscando una palabra,
En el umbral de tu misterio,
Quien fuera Ali Baba,
Quien fuera el mítico Simbad,
Quien fuera un poderoso sortilegio,
Quien fuera encantador.

Estoy buscando una escafandra,
Al pie del mar de los delirios,
Quien fuera Jacques Cousteau,
Quien fuera Nemo el capitán,
Quien fuera el batiscafo de tu abismo,
Quien fuera explorador.

Corazón, corazón oscuro
Corazón, corazón con muros,
Corazón, que se esconde,
Corazón, que esta donde,
Corazón, corazón en fuga,
Herido de dudas y amor.

Estoy buscando melodía,
Para tener como llamarte,
Quien fuera ruiseñor,
Quien fuera Lennon y Mcartney,
Sindo Garay, Violeta, Chico Buarque,
Quien fuera tu trovador.

Corazón, corazón oscuro,
Corazón, corazón con muros,
Corazón, que se esconde,
Corazón, que esta donde,
Corazón, corazón en fuga,
Herido de dudas y amor

first aid

There was an attempted bank robbery next door to my workplace yesterday. Around 3pm, one of our regulars who works at Citibank on Solano Avenue opened the door of the cafe and shouted, "The bank's getting robbed! Call 911! Get everyone inside!" We proceeded to ring the cops and usher everybody in and lock the doors. There were foolish people trying to peer outside through the windows, but after I warned them of the risk of getting shot, they stood on the other side of the counter. It really amazed me that while something dangerous was going on, everybody was still concerned about trivial shit like cashing their checks or wanting to move their cars to avoid a parking ticket. I mean, do you really want to possibly lose your life over a $30 fine? I just don't understand people sometimes...

I've had a really good week so far. On Sunday, I ventured to Green Gulch Farms in Marin county to attend an organic flower gardening class. I took home sunflower, melon, marigold, and zucchini seedlings. I'm hoping they'll be patient enough for me to plant them in a week or two.
After two really good job interviews, I'm just waiting for a call back on Monday or Tuesday.

My brother is moving out of my mom's apartment, which means I'll get to move in. That's the biggest relief I've gotten since I've arrived. It feels good to know that I'll have my habitat in one place for a while.

While all these good things are falling into place, I can't help but feel a little sad too. I feel like this is really the beginning of something possibly permanent. I'm scared to let my roots sink in deep into the rocky terrain of my Californian life because I really don't like the idea of being far away from my fantasies and endless possibilities. Now is the time for action, but I'm not sure what the definitive course of it is.

Song of the Moment: "Siren Song" by Bat For Lashes

2 AM draft

Since I said goodbye to somebody this past week, there hasn't been one day when I haven't felt that stark lack of companionship echoing like a dropped porcelain bowl clattering sharp against brick.

But in all honesty, I've never been as happy as I have been in the last month. Melbourne was the defibrillator my heart longed for. I love Australia and I can't wait to come back as soon as I can. It may not be the same once I feel the absences of people whom I've shared beautiful memories with, but nevertheless, there's so much I still have to do and see.

This trip became everything I could have ever hoped for. It has been one of sheer contrasts; never before have I had episodes of brave self reliance followed almost immediately by unwavering insecurity, or better yet, how the very places that I've WWOOFed at could not be more different from one another. The skills I've learned from each of them have been remarkably varied and I couldn't have planned it better. Life gave me a few good kicks in the ass but followed them with optimal stages of healing and growth. Everything has been unwittingly allocated in its perfect place and time, no matter how much I tend to doubt so.


Song of the Moment: "Ghosts" - Laura Marling

Here, I am in Tasmania. I've been here for about 3 days and have already seen some spectacular landscapes. Today I hiked Freycinet National Park for about 5 hours and got my legs wet at Wineglass Bay. The huge pink granite boulders and seemingly endless eucalyptus forests have been humbling and inspiring. Last night's cloudy sunset gave the mountains a rosy purple hue. It kind of felt like I was entering Jurassic Park and there was a good chance that a bracheosaurus was going to rear its head up from the trees and sneeze on me. I did, however, see two wallabies and an echidna, along with some lizards on the trail. I definitely celebrated like a 5 year old child on a few occasions.

I found that central Hobart has a similar vibe as Wellington's CBD, only visibly neater. Its streets are more straightforward and square, unlike the fickle vines that run through Wellington. The harbor is smaller but ends at Salamanca Place where the Saturday market is held. There was an impressive array of vendors, foods, and typical Tazzie products on show ranging from purely practical to ethereally decadent. My stomach is growls at the recollection of honeys, chocolates, and fresh organic strawberries!

I also made sure to stop by City Organics on Criterion Street. They really make the most of their teeny tiny shop. I recognized many staples and tried a few local delicacies. I had forgotten how wonderful grapes are! It's such a shame that in New Zealand, you can hardly find ones that haven't been imported from California after copious injections of nasty chemicals. Surely, in a country that produces so much wine, there should be some grape producers willing to sell a raw product. No?

Tomorrow, I will head to Bay of Fires and hit the beach (weather permitting). On Tuesday I'll head west to Launceston where I'll meet my WWOOF host. My main concern right now, though, is catching up on the sleep I lost last night in a cold car.

Seven

The days have been tip-toeing smoothly and I'm feeling like the pace is finally just right for now. By this time next week I will be in Melbourne airport marinating in eagerness and excitement while I pass the time until my arrival in Tasmania. Considering I haven't been on the road in quite some time, I'm starting to feel a little nervous and worried that I'll over-pack again. It's a bad habit of mine, one that tends to slither in and go unnoticed until zippers are stretched to their limits. The great thing is, since I'll be weeding and shoveling horse shit around most of the time, I can't possibly convince myself that hoarding a treasure trove of eyeshadows and jewelry is totally worth the "one time I totally wish I had it". Hey, maybe I'm getting better at this... maybe its just a matter of time before I ditch my stuff and learn to be more resourceful. Although, I don't know how I feel about having less than 5 pairs of socks... I guess that why sandals are appealing for people whose feet never get cold.

My tongue has healed well from my frenectomy. Its definitely a bit miserable when you can't enjoy something as lovely as food. Now that it's thankfully over, I'm getting used to my tongue constantly moving and flexing. I guess there are new bits of muscle that have never been mobile and are now free. I didn't really notice for a few days but after a close call with a tooth, i've been more careful of its whereabouts. With luck, my R's will be rrrrrolling in no time.

Yarrow

Achillea millefolium: with its bedraggled, feathery leaf
and pink (less red
than mauve) or off-white flower, its tight little knot
of a head,
its like something keeping a secret
from itself, something on the tip of its own tongue.

p. 44, The Annals of Chile by Paul Muldoon

I'm totally stoked on having some days off! The Christmas ritual is lost on me but I will not pass up the chance to enjoy stuff and do something fun and liberating. Hopefully some sun, bike, beach and books will be in order. I'm being cheap so nobody gets presents from me this Christmas, but believe me, the money is going towards a good cause.
Next port of call: Hobart, Tasmania!

I'm also in the process about writing about orcas. Don't wonder why I'm such a nerd, just acknowledge that killer whales are fucking awesome and we can get on with it.

But before I finish I'll share a vegan avocado and butter bean spread/dip recipe I made up yesterday.

3 avocados, mashed
1/2 tin of butter beans (approximately 1 cup) mashed
2-3 Tablespoons extra-virgin flaxseed or olive oil
1-2 garlic cloves finely minced
5 basil leaves finely chopped (about 10 cilantro/coriander leaves can be sustituted)
salt and pepper to taste

Big, huge pile of crap doesn't begin to describe my room right now. I just moved again and this time I had more stuff than I think I've ever had in my life. No, that's definitely a lie, but still, 12 boxes full of stuff and 2 sarcophagus sized suitcases, not to mention my futon. Definitely more than any "backpacker" could imagine having. My new room is probably half the size of my last one (and nearly half the cost) so getting rid of shit is definitely priority #1. Waking up and coming home to this mess is really going to suck so I have to do a little bit everyday even if it means chucking some stuff out the window.

In other news, I am fucking gutted at what is going on back in the San Francisco Bay Area.

1. Another huge oil spill into the bay? Really? I mean, the gigantic one nearly two years ago wasn't enough of a "learning experience" for anybody? Of course, there's all this investigation as to why the response took so damn long (nearly 4 hours) and why it happened but come on, put your fuckin' gumboots on and go save some oiled ducks. There is no telling how many dead animals there will be since migration season is at its peak.

2. 15 year old girl gets beaten and gang raped while onlookers take pictures and videos with their cell phones. Reading this in the international section of a New Zealand newspaper was not the way I expected to start my Thursday morning. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I can't imagine what could compel some 20-odd students to spectate this heinous event and not think for one second that the victim was a human-being and didn't deserve the horrible things that took place. Sure, the men and boys got her drunk. Sure, there was shitty security at the homecoming dance that was taking place that evening. Yes, the attack took place in a remote and poorly lit area with no working cameras. But still, how could these people just watch and jeer as one of their classmates was seriously abused and dehumanized before their very eyes. They are sick and I'll expect there will be some serious karmic debt hanging over them.

Conclusion: I am incredibly home sick but hearing shit like this makes me want to never go back.

It's weird and nice how when you're with someone, all sorts of simple gestures and seemingly ordinary things turn into unshakable memories. Fanatical use of black pepper. Cups of sweet milky gumboot tea whirl-pooling over a sink. Loud fake indian accents in a quiet restaurant. The unmistakable chime of their far away accent on the other side of a store. A shallow belly button pulsating with laughter, sometimes lined with lint. Dark green lesbian soccer mom station wagons that seem to zoom past me a million times every day, their omnipresence pronounced by the solitude of a windy city street.

I met this pigeon when I was at the Te Anau Bird Sanctuary. I was retarded and filmed it sideways because I thought I could rotate it once it was uploaded but alas, I suck. The bird is pretty awesome though. I couldn't tell if he was performings a mating dance or a declaration of war.

There is a lot I miss about California. I don't think homesick is the right word for it because I don't really know where my home is anymore. I don't know if it's in San Pablo or Albany or Berkeley or somewhere I still haven't found. I miss Luno, I miss my family, I miss my crazy friends, I miss my bed, and my car. But I know home is still somewhere else. Somewhere further out waiting for me to stumble in unannounced.

Ruffled feathers

A customer creeped me out really bad. She had big, dull gray blue eyes and a small sharp face that was coated with a thin film of blonde hair. I was serving her at the last checkout counter when I asked if she had found everything she needed. Her reply started off meek, "Well, yes, I guess so. I would have stayed longer but I just don't like the music you play here. Do you like it?" 

I was a bit taken aback but, nevertheless, I attempted to conjure up a friendly conversation. "Well, sometimes I don't but, for the most part, I enjoy a wide range of music. What kind of music do you like?"

Her voice shifted forcefully as she hissed a wide-eyed reply, "I prefer music that sounds heavenly. I only like music if it sounds like what God would have wanted heaven to sound like. You know that Lucifer tries to get to people through any means? You see, there is evil everywhere and that's why the world is going to end soon. There's going to be a huge war and the governments are going to make everybody go to church. And you see, the Catholic church is starting to make a come back and that's baaaaad news. Here, let me give you this, I'd like you to read it." She slides a pamphlet onto the counter as her rambling takes a strained pause. 

I look up at the deranged spark in her eyes and try my hardest not to recoil and tell her to go fuck herself.

"No, No. I'd rather you keep that. Do you want your receipt?" I struggled to maintain a calm, polite composure. It wasn't until later that I realized that I should have told her I was a Scientologist lesbian who enjoys making porridge out of baby eyeballs on Sundays. But on second thought, she might have attempted an exorcism.

I feel like a greedy fat kid in a candy store with only enough pocket change to buy one thing. The pressure is killin' me. I'm torn between one candy bar that looks really really good, the wrapper is beautiful but the contents has yet to be discovered. The other is one, which I'm quite familiar with, has been hella good so far and I feel like it has the most to offer, yet I don't want to spoil a great thing by overdoing it.

5 months and 3 weeks ago, I was sitting in a terminal at San Francisco International Airport as I anticipated the commencement of my escape plan. After a long awaited bittersweet goodbye to friends, family, and habits, I threw myself into an abyss while clinging tightly to hope and the two cumbersome suitcases that rolled alongside me. I was face to face with a fear that I had never been acquainted with before. An anxiety that, for once, was natural and expected. This was the first time ever moving away from the house I've lived in since birth. And what better place than the other side of the Pacific ocean?

The three summer months preceding this careless abandonment of home had been marked by late night escapism, lazy afternoons with pot and good company, and, of course, that much cherished "light at the end of the tunnel" feeling. It simply didn't get any better than that. Making every day count. Making every hour worthwhile. Taking in all the goodness that life had to offer. Of course, those are just the highlights. The rest will unravel with more selective nudges.

For now, I live week by week and paycheck to paycheck. I have a job that I like and it keeps me on my toes. I finally recognize the "little things" that everybody talks about and welcome them, often appreciating their scarcity. I am nearly halfway through my one year visa and nervously pondering the options. What to do, oh, what to do?

I woke up late today and am still in my PJs, even though it's almost 7 pm. I finally got a new camera and have been experimenting with it all day around the house.