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Craving Salsa.

I feel like I need to write in the form of a list. I miss list blogs. Some of my favorite past posts, especially those not published here, were written in the form of a list (I’m super nostalgic for Colorado College and London, FYI).

FIRST FRESH SNOW OF 2016.

It’s mid-March and the expected madness is at play. So much is happening every day and there are so many moments to share, that I feel I should share, that I WANT to share, but then the very idea of attempting to articulate all of it, some of it, completely consumes me and I just don’t. I’ve forgotten the art of blogging, which I think is totally acceptable and fair, albeit frustrating. It’s only a blog.

I also feel like I’ve forgotten how to write a new book. I’ve been revising and rewriting and editing and revising NOTHING LEFT TO BURN off and on for the last 10 years (!!!). And while, yes, I drafted another novel somewhere in there when I was 16/17 and one of the rewrites of BURN was so severe that it may has well have been a totally New Thing, I’m utterly consumed by terror and–as with blogging and journaling and ALL forms of writing–too many thoughts.

Water Station.I live in graduate housing at UAF. We get monthly emails about the poor state of our water. “People who drink water containing trihalomethanes in excess of the MCL over many years may experience problems with their liver, kidneys, or central nervous system, and may have an increased risk of getting cancer” and “If you have a severely compromised immune system, have an infant, are pregnant, or are elderly, you may be at increased risk and should seek advice from your health care providers about drinking this water.” I’m not severely comprised but my immune system certainly doesn’t need another factor working against it, plus the water tastes rancid. So I go to a water station and fill up 7 gallons of drinking water a week.

Back in November, I couldn’t carry the water jug. Now I can lug it from my car to the apartment and (most weeks) even lift it above my head onto the fridge. This feels like the sweetest of victories.

My writing pause may also have to do with significant things happening with past writing. I need time to process, to recover, to let joy and terror sink in, to not be productive, to refill the well. I’m not saying anything new but the repetition is calming me.

On the first day of the month, I attacked a giant sushi boat for damn fantastic reasons.

As mentioned a few weeks back, I moved out of my studio and into the one directly below mine. Sharing 380 sq ft with another person is an odd thing. But I kind of love it, as a temporary set up, it’s damn cozy and warm. And I no longer have to walk back and forth and up and down those stairs twenty times a night, no longer have to carry down pots of soup and be caught by neighbors in my PJs. I can stay right here. It’s so nice to just stay right here.

I also forgot how to design and code websites, which I miss have the ability to do. I need to relearn at least the basics.

goodbye California ID. Last week, I said goodbye to my California driver’s license. The Alaska DMV wouldn’t let me keep it as a souvenir–surely a mini tragedy. While having an Alaska license for a few years will be swell (and my CA one was set to expire in August), I already miss my gleeful newly permitted 15-year-old face.

Today, I was preliminary diagnosed with an ulcer. Ulcers don’t run in my family. My mom says, “We don’t do ulcers” (to which I rolled my eyes). I have low blood pressure and severely low cholesterol. I eat generally healthy. I shouldn’t have an ulcer. I clearly know nothing about ulcers. My anxiety has been stupid high this year, paired with other significant mental rubbish that has been left untreated because of a shortage of psychiatrists in Fairbanks. I did’t know ulcers or heartburn could hurt so bad. I didn’t know stress could do such damage. Actually, that’s a lie. I’ve known the implications of stress since I was seven. But taking medication for the acid in my stomach? That’s a new one.

I’m visiting home in less than two weeks for AWP Los Angeles and I CANNOT WAIT TO HOLD MY DOG. And have a break from Alaska.

It’s spring break and so damn beautiful in its own Alaskan way. The sun is already setting after 8 PM, but we had the first real significant snow fall (10 inches) since December, which felt so, so good. I forgot the hush. The soothe. The brightness. How clean it feels. But I’m petrified of the growing light. My one advantage this year is that I know what to expect: madness, endless day, insomnia, people yelling in the Writing Center when they really mean to be talking softly, me running in circles, me pacing.

trooper <3

My Mini Cooper is my baby, more and more. I’m so happy I drove it up the continent this summer, even if I have to drive it back down in two months. I think I’m moving to Utah, and then Seattle several months to a year after that. Does this surprise anyone? I can’t stay still. Not yet.

This space will be changing significantly soon (next week?). I’m CRAZY excited (for so many things).

I want to spoon myself hot salsa so bad right now.

What a thick, passage-y list. Oops.

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