“Cause no one seems to believe that we can fly”

Apparently March is no-update month for me. Sometimes I need to take a break from writing just to give my ideas (and words) a chance to replenish themselves…

Last night Teresa and I went to see Missy Higgins at The Fillmore. The opening act, Lenka, was great—she was very entertaining and her music was catchy and fun. Justin Nozuka played next and left us thoroughly underwhelmed. I’d never heard of him before the concert. There were quite a few teeny-boppers there to see him (screaming in shrill voices), and Teresa and I were amused when he announced that one song was inspired not by Johnny Cash, but by the movie Walk the Line.

Missy, of course, was fantastic. She played a lot of my favorite songs, including “Any Day Now,” and a many others that I appreciated in a new way hearing them live. She can really rock out when she wants to. We were standing about 10-15 people from the stage (we moved up after the screaming preteens cleared out). She ended the set with “Steer,” and when she finished the lights and background music came back on and people started to filter out (including the tall, obnoxious guy in front of me who kept blocking my view trying to record things on his cell phone, and the couple next to us who spent three-plus hours making out). The people around me were exchanging confused looks and saying “Really? No encore??” So we stayed and cheered until they turned the lights back off and Missy reappeared. She explained that they generally don’t do encores, but since this was the last night of their tour she’d play us another. Then she asked which song we wanted—”Freebird?”—and they broke into “Eye of the Tiger,” just kidding around. “What are you guys in the mood for? Something upbeat, or a ballad…?” People shouted pretty loudly for “Special Two,” so that’s what she ended with. There weren’t very many of us left by that point, and basically… it was pretty sweet.

In other news, my friend Kristin came to visit this past weekend from JVC Northwest. I took off work Friday and we went to Berkeley and crashed UC Berkeley’s birthday party, getting free cupcakes in the process. Afterward we rode a cable car to Ghirardelli Square and walked to Fisherman’s Wharf, where we saw the seals and stalked the bush man and danced to a steel drum band playing Bob Marley. Saturday it was raining so we walked around the Mission and plundered the pirate store at 826 Valencia (freaking AWESOME), before going to the Nile Café for hookah on Saturday night. We spent Sunday walking around the Haight and Golden Gate Park, and we went to see the bridge and tried not to blow away in the CRAZY wind. There was also Scrabble and tea and an anti-war protest that turned into sort of an all-purpose protest… All in all it was a fun and busy weekend, and it was great to see Kristin again and swap JVC stories.

…And now you are more or less caught up :~)

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Saturday, May 3, 2008, 3:25 p.m.

I’m sharing an old journal entry that I liked, because I don’t feel like writing something new. I wrote this in Village A1, in my pajamas in the scoopy chair. Keep in mind that it wasn’t written to be read.

“The world is so goddamn beautiful.

It’s so fleeting, this kind of feeling, and I just want to hold it here in my hands for a while and try to let it soak into me, permeate me, change me. I want to be made of light. The world is made of light, and I am made of the same substance as the world—I am a part of all of this beauty and it is a part of me. It’s always here, all around me, in secret pockets and hidden corners and right in front of my face, and it’s within me as well, even when I forget how to find it. There will always be a way back there. It’s a cycle, and the cycle itself is full of beauty.

I want to write it here, to hold onto a piece of it even once the moment is gone. I don’t know if I can capture it, though, in describing concrete events. I want a record of the fact that even fairly crappy semesters can have happy endings. And I don’t want to move on yet, because when I feel like this, I feel like nothing can top it, like no matter what I do now there’s no way to go but down. It’s an exhilarating and terrifying feeling. Because it’s only for the moment. Everything we do and feel and experience is only for the moment, and what is life if not a collection of moments? If I’m happy I won’t stay that way, and if I’m sad I won’t stay that way either. The impermanence is frightening and comforting at the same time. There’s nothing to do but live the moments as they come—savor them as much as we can, and relinquish them once they’re over. We can keep the memory but we can never return to the moment itself: we must go off in search of new ones. …That’s life.”