Hiatus

I always hate when my favorite webcomics/blogs/bands go on "hiatus." It's a detested word. It is never used to mean, "I'll be back soon." Instead, it is code for, "I have abandoned this creative pursuit forever, left it stagnant, incomplete, and frozen, and I won't be honest enough to admit it to myself or you." I didn't want to use that word when I stopped blogging last fall (effectively going "on hiatus"), but now that I face the last six months from a new living situation, I can see that my life and my writing suffered from a paralyzing stagnance. My home environment, something that affects my emotional state greatly, was cramped and hostile, crippling everything from social interactions (you can't have anyone over when your roommate lives in the living room and there's no room in your bedroom because two people are sardine-canned in) to creative pursuits (I only touched my banjo to dust it; I only wrote to fulfill assignments) to making food (I had to clean the entire kitchen before using it. Every time.) My whole life was on hiatus.

I don't know what to say here now that I'm back - and, my friends, I do plan to be back and to write often. This whole thing - the roommate situation - was a mistake I hope not to make again. I could rehash what has happened these past two months, but I doubt that that would be beneficial to anyone. The situation cost me a friend, a semester of productivity, and not a little sanity.

These last few weeks have been bittersweet. After two weeks of cleaning and rearranging, Ashley and I now have much-needed private space, room to stretch, and a clean living room and kitchen, but the spectre of guilt still tries to wheedle its way in. Neither of us is much into confrontation, drama, or putting ourselves before others, so the process of detaching ourselves from our roles as the enablers of our roommate and friend has been rather trying. The fact that it meant hardening ourselves enough to throw that same friend and roommate out on the street in order to save our sanity made the whole affair somewhat of an epic struggle. Ashley's the hero of this one; I was her silent sidekick, the go-between with a quiet agenda, the mole - the coward. I stayed quiet and let her take the fall for being "selfish" for casting Randi out into the cold, and for that I owe her an enormous apology.

At last, though, I have an environment in which I can work and be happy, a class and work schedule (15 credits and 11 hours of work) that leaves time for me and for what I want to do, and positive relationships to inspire me. Hiatus? Over.

Cleaning Out a Desk Haiku

in waves like the sea
the typhoon tells me to go
it lifts me away


Date of original version unknown. I had written this down on a scrap of paper and forgotten about it. Talk about your "found poetry." I guess moving is good for some things. Yesterday I found an Old Navy gift certificate for 25$ from my sister and her (now ex-) fiance, so I now have a cardigan and a tshirt on the way. At 4:15 this morning the fire alarms in my building went off, and I had to wait outside in the cold while the Housing staff and the firefighters deliberated over whether or not there was a fire until 5, reminding me that I should have slept in my new room last night instead. I think somebody's trying to hurry me out of here. They're luring me, too. I found an excellent, ancient sewing machine by the trashcans on my new floor. It weighs 30 pounds, but I think it might actually work. Who knows what this summer holds?

Ice is nice – and will suffice.

I'm moving to warmer climates. I foresee that the warm ocean around Florida, California, Texas... these will do quite nicely. Why?

I've seen the Apocalypse, my friends, and it's full of broken furnaces and cold showers.