That's what friends are for!

Today I want to talk about the terrible spectre of loneliness. Jokes! I'll get there.

Last night I got to visit with one of my dearest friends, Meg, who moved to Germany this past year. Meg is teaching english and living with her very nice german boyfriend, Matthias. I met Meg in college; through a mutual friend we became housemates when we transfered to university from community college. We eventually worked together, and also had many classes together, as we had the same major (except she was a double major and also studied German). Needless to say we became pretty close and sometimes really, really annoyed each other.

Meg is hilarious, loyal, yada yada yada, super cool and I love her. However, in talking about how awesome she is, I'm going to move on to a more depressing subject, because that's how I roll.

I feel like people often live smaller lives as they get older, sometimes become increasingly isolated... if you are a part of an intentional community like a housing co-op or a church (alas, I'm not religious) this may be less of the case, but as I get older things seem to be super in flux, and while the relationships remain, the physical presence of certain loved ones in my life is less so. Life! Ah well.

I'm very lucky and surrounded by great people most of the time. However, things have changed. I have two friends who live with each other and are besties, and I think longingly of college when I hear that they have matching hats that they wear when they decided to smoke weed and get silly. Now, I would prefer not to smoke, but I would like someone to wear a matching hat with.

Meg and I, as lady best friends sometimes do (maybe fellas as well, but it doesn't seem so to me), had a best friend's inside joke book that we called, "the bible". In it was shared experiences, memories, general silliness. Last night she picked me up at my house, and I was laughing almost immediately. We hung out at her sister's house, and then I decided I was hungry at 10:30 at night, and we went to the store and joked that we were acting like we were high (so much talk about weed. we weren't)because we were giggling and getting too excited about seeing "perfect food bars" on the shelf, and filled our arms with snacky, munchy foods.

You know, I'll say it again, I'm lucky. Throughout my life, I've gotten close to many people over the years, and have had these moments in time where I got to be especially close to a friend. Then things shift, you're still close, but you don't spend all of your time together. I have in the past tried to make boyfriends that person, but in that case there's the special danger of co-dependence and losing yourself in a romantic relationship (and driving the other person crazy/away. overshare?). Probably not always, but I think it takes more practice for some (me). I think that my sister would be down to hang out all the time, and cook and laugh and etc, but we keep living in other states. Bummer.

At this point, I worry that this sounds like a sad, lonely blah blah that is a time and enjoyment suck. I woke up at this morning and walk/ran to the train station (further from Meg's sister's house than I was thinking. sleepiness!) and then walked from the train station to my house. So I had some thinking time. Meg's sister is an attorney in my office and could have given me a ride to work, but I accidentally washed a contact lens down the drain last night/wanted to take a morning constitutional/see my cat. That's right, my cat. I embrace it. I am not, nor will I ever be a sad cat lady. You have to be sad to be a sad cat lady. I may be unmarried forever, but I think that having an animal to care for is good for most people. Levon is a great comfort and joy to me. And when I get the blues... she's great. Anyhow, I have to change for work, but I let me say that I am pretty happy about opportunitities to see my loved ones.

Gah!

I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee

I just went to the most fun yoga class. Let me preface all of this by saying that I am new to yoga. My funny teacher said that I was "like a gps" and "the leaning tower of Pisa". I'm not very good. Two other things that I liked that he said were, "the best reason to smile is no reason at all" and "the simpliest act of love is paying attention". He advised me to tryto become a masseuse, to have maybe may jobs instead of one, and to not get married until I'm at least 30 (he's seen it many times he said, men want to "capture" a woman, and he sees women giving all of themselves over.) He also invited me to his bikram yoga class and offered me thirty free days at the studio.

I am sometimes very lucky. sometimes I am incredibly unlucky. But, as far as random acts of kindness go, I feel like I've been, I don't know, pretty blessed (I don't know how to describe it). I have a nice bicycle because my mom's best friend's husband is an exceptionally nice guy and gave it to me.

Have I told you the story of the man who once gave me a hundred dollars for no reason at all? Maybe. Maybe I've written it before too, but here it comes: I was working at a grocery store as a cashier (this happened a few years ago) and this man that I recognized, but didn't really know came through my line. He gave me a card. at that time, being a young lady college student I sometimes got attention from the male customers. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted the card to look open later. I didn't want him to ask me out. He seemed nice enough, but it was pretty awkward.

So later, I opened the card and was freaked out as I pulled out $20 bills. I called my manager immediately (I wasn't sure I would be allowed to keep it/nor did I want to keep it) I read the note, my manager read the note, and my friend Elliot who had come to run with me after work read the note. "It's a nice note," Elliot said.

Basically, the man had said that he had come through my checkout line at some point and saw that I was really happy. (And I was really happy that point in my life. I would sing at work. It's a place I'm trying to get back to.)

He was not happy. He knew no one in town, he might have been drinking too much, he was unfulfilled. He said that he looked at me and figured that he wanted to be in that place that I was in. So he wrote a list, and gave himself a deadline. He worked hard, ended up divorcing, really struggled, and now he was happy.

I saw him later in the store and we talked about his gift to me. He said that he felt like he had to do it, like he was on a crashing plane making promises about what he would do if his life was spared. When he wrote the list, I guess he thought if it worked he would give me $100. I tried to give it back to him multiple times (a nice gesture, but the letter I prized) but I ended up just giving him a mango. then I moved away and moved back and I haven't seen him again.

Anyhow, I don't believe that these things really speak to what kind of a person I am (except sometimes very lucky and sometimes unlucky), but they do speak volumes about the kindness of others and the impact we can have on other people, even strangers. I am not always a kind person, but that is my worthiest aspiration. All things will come from it. Health, from kindness to myself. Wealth, for the riches of integrity and good relationships. Strength, for doing what is not always easy.

Okay, clearly I was just in a yoga class. I'm done. Love, Rachel

how did you not see that baby lurking in the bathwater?

I broke the babka. I just made my first chocolate babka (anyone else remember that Seinfeld episode? apparently cinnamon babka is a lesser babka. I like saying babka.) Earlier, as I was preparing the layers, I initiated a conversation with my housemate about the babka, where I had the delight of using the word in almost every sentence. Babka.

Well, I broke the babka, because I was impatient to move it out of the pan and onto a plate. typical. It'll still be tasty, but slightly less impressive. I probably won't eat it, but will watch the rate of consumption of it by my housemates to determine if it's work baking again.

Speaking of broken things, I've noticed that I seem to be surrounded by a lot of quirky appliances, for lack of a better term. Most of my electrical appliances come to me or are soon on the fritz. my record/cd cassette player/radio does not have full funtionality,my cell phone deletes telephone numbers at whim (I should do something about that, but I keep forgetting). Our house is an old unit, something is always breaking, the clothes dryer is turned on with a fork and has no working timer. The stereo doesn't really work... all of this, let's call it charm.

For the most part it doesn't bother me, and it can be kind of funny at times (my cousin and I commiserating on the terrible cars we once had), but... it's a nice thought. If something is broken, but still adequate (like my old laptop that I had to hook up to a monitor because the screen was broken), why not make do? maybe that's being cheap or lazy, but I think there's some wisdom in it too.

Juicy, Biggie Smalls. Gangsta

hello friends. I have had the luck of chatting via the internet with one of my best friends (so great! so smart and hilarious and cool!) meg, who is currently living in Germany. To anyone who is anti-facebook or internet communication, I have to say that I feel like at least 90% of the people I love are on the move, or will be, and I thank god for anything that allows semi-easy communication.

Moving on, it's a good morning. I woke up at 6:30 or something, not realizing that I didn't have to work, but that's being a grown up, I guess. When I was younger I bet my mom's friend that I'd still be sleeping until noon when I was thirty, but that's clearly not happening. 6:00 or 7:00 more like it, with 9:00 sleeping in, and 10:00 really late, unless there's another person to influence me. Hey-o! Ignore that last one. I am a sexless character, absent those characteristics.

Anyway, meg and I were chatting (as it is described), and I thought, I love a man who likes to see me eat. I feel like that is a sign that someone truly cares about you. I have had some a*hole boyfriends (no offense to any of you who might be nice people but were terrible as my boyfirend) and have been a jerk on countless occassions myself (romantic relationships are the weirdest kind of relationships), but anyone who encouraged me to eat/made me food/ate mexican food with me, I think, it couldn't have been all bad.

I (overshare) have a not great relationship with food. I used to, and still do in some ways, think that if I could just lose some weight, all of my "problems" would somehow magically disappear and I'd be a better person. One of the better things that happened to me was when I went to college, gained weight, frumped out, and still had friends and went on dates. I had value beyond achieving whatever idea I had that I was not measuring up to.

I still worry about getting older and becoming a sexless (earmuffs, apologies) creature, wearing mom jeans and getting jowly, but what are you gonna do? And I have a twin sister (not identical) who is in excellent shape who I can see as an example of our genes treated right. whatever. she's a mutant. a perfect mutant, who is my best friend, but where did she come from? She's unlike the rest of our family.

Anyway, as a person who, in effort not to be unhealthy about things (I wish I weren't this way, but that's okay) refuses to eat: bread, sweets, dairy most of the time, and sometimes grains and floury deals(which sound unhealthy, but if you saw me eating a burrito or naked, you'd know I'm okay). I love a man who likes to see me eat taco bell, but doesn't make me feel like a freak for the agreement I've come to with food. That is all.Now everyone, go and listen to randy travis "They say time takes it's toll on the body, makes a young girls brown hair turn grey, but honey I don't care, I aint in love with your hair, and if it all fell out, I'd love you anyway." I's a sap.