Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Summer Dance!

I grew up in a small, conservative, farming community in Ohio.



There was a church on every corner.

There was a video on Amish buggy safety in my driver’s education course.

There was a bimonthly meth lab explosion.



I never would have guessed that less than an hour away from my “dirt road off of a dirt road” a couple thousand dirty hippies were having an annual, weekend, drug infused, orgiastic, dance party in the woods called Summer Dance.



Why the hell didn’t someone mention this to me!?

I would have complained way less about my life situation – pinky promise.

A recap of this year’s Summer Dance:

To Bring:

Water – Keeping the endless drugs circulating through your system is an essential step to not dying.

Ensure vitamin drinks – You’re not going to remember to eat, so this is a quick way to keep your energy up and save money on your twentieth slice of Disco Pizza.

Flashlight – Without a flashlight, you are leaving yourself at the mercy of your tribe and this is lame. I lost my flashlight the second night and was forced to navigate my way back to my campsite using only my wits, my cell phone, and a pack of glow sticks.

Cigarettes – bad for you, so I hear, but crucial because they can be traded for food or supplies, or they can be given away to build good will and spread joy.

Arriving:

Summer Dance is still so grass roots organic that pulling in you’re handed this flyer:

*** Notice to Nelson Ledges Quarry Park Patrons ***

The sheriff is making arrests in the park. Anyone selling illegal substances will be arrested. 
Anyone looking to purchase illegal substances will be removed.

We cannot tell you how serious this is for the future of NLQP

Things must improve or music festivals at Nelson Ledges Quarry Park are in serious jeopardy

The subtext of this flyer says:

Seriously guys, this year you can’t just go camp-to-camp selling drugs to one another like Girl Scout cookies.

Try some Finesse.

Ask the person their name first before asking if they have any ketamine.

Ask them where they’re from before you start your sales pitch about the five strains of kind bud you smuggled in. 

Ask them how much they love Lotus before clinking your hits of LSD together and cheering to “enlightenment.”

Camping:

Tents – surprisingly comfortable after a night of wandering aimlessly in the woods trying to find drum circles to join.

Peeing in the woods – possibly my favorite thing in the world, but beware of poison ivy in the high grass. :/

The Music! :

Lotus is one of my favorite bands ever, ever, ever! And two nights of those beautiful sounds, played by those beautiful men, with some of my best friends in this world, next to a lake, under a clear, star-filled sky – well… that’s what us simple, country folk call “Perfection.”


Big Gigantic also killed it! Saxophone <3 Gets me every time.

The Ledges:


Gotta jump off of them in to the lake or you’re a loser. By that I mean, at life, you’re losing.

The Sling:

At 3 a.m., my tribe came upon a dub step party in the woods, and above the intoxicated hippie heads spun a girl in a hammock-like contraption. Hands to head, the vibrating masses took turns pushing her, spinning her faster.

A guy comes over to me:

“You want to get up in the sling?”

“You mean that thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Hahahahahahah Noooooo! No! That’s the opposite of something I would ever want to have happen to me. But thanks for asking…”

Who says yes to this? What combination of substances makes this sort of thing sound like a good idea?

“Hell yeah! I love having no control while drunk assholes spin me for fun and refuse to let me down! If I could pick one thing to do for the rest of my life, that would be it! Bring me up!”

Glow stick paths:

Not to be trusted.

The first night, my tribe was trekking through the darkness. We had only one mini flashlight, a light saber, and some light up gloves to find our way.

Ahead of us there was a path built out of glow sticks, so obviously, we followed it.
Off to the left of the path was written “Duck” in glow sticks.

“Duck? What’s that about?”

We look up and around for something to duck under And… PUDDLE!

God damn hippies made a glow stick puddle trap!!  Genius!

My feet drenched, but laughing hysterically, made better by the fact that the other guy who was tricked in to the puddle at the same time as me is furious.

“Now my feet are all wet! Everything is awful! I’m so mad about the glow stick path shenanigans!” 

Too good.

Yoga on the beach:


Lost my tribe and started doing yoga alone on the beach waiting for them to wander out of the woods again. People started coming over asking to join me. Ended up leading a 30-minute session for eight music lovers who hugged me goodbye and thanked me for spreading the LOVE. Namaste :-)

To sum it up:

Summer Dance rocked my world for the 2nd year running.

Thanks to all who made Summer Dance “groovy”! You know who you are, and I love you all heaps. Duh. :-) 

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

He Said, She Said - LOVE

“I do not regret it. Spending the day with you.”

“I will never not dance with you.”

“Nails are the entryway to the doors of perception."

“Are people going to think I’m strange? Or is it good? And creative?”

“I love you. I love you. I love you. Listen, to me. I love you. I don’t say that to many people. I Love You.”

“I like spending time with you, and I love fucking you.”

“The sound of happiness. Heard this today and thought of you.”

"I can be in a room with a hundred people who love me and I'll still feel lonely."


“Thank you for you.”

“I’m so fucking sorry. Super immature. You’ve heard it from me before, but I’m sorry.”

“I promise you that one day I’ll make you proud of me.”

“Don’t trust people who make promises, but I promise the next time I am with you, I’ll take you out dancing.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a relationship like this. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.”

“I make sense when I’m with you. We’re freaks together.”

“I’d marry you if you weren’t so naughty.”

Release the tension with the exhale.

“What are You doing Here?”

“It just gets so lonely, you know? I just let the bullshit get to me sometimes, even when I know I shouldn’t.”

“You are in my head constantly.”

Inhale the healing light.

Exhale your worries.

“You are missed.”

“My aura is turquoise!”

“Mine too!”

“Let the organization commence!”

“The first time we met, it felt as though we’d already known each other forever.”

“Hahahaha! It’s going to be so good!”

“You’re so great! Now I know how people feel when they meet me!”

“Just why!? Can you at least give me a why? Or are you not human enough even for that?”

“Honestly, I don’t know why, but talking about it isn’t going to do either of us any good.”

“I guess I’m not funny.”

“If I call will you answer?”

"You're definitely not a saint." 

“I’m feeling good.” “Yeah.”

“On the way.”

“What are we going to cheer?”

“Fate. You and me. Finding each other.”

“If we leave it with your last words still being “fuck off and die,” at least I’ll know I did my best.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking.”

“No! Keep talking.”

“You’re still an idiot, but you’re a beautiful idiot.”

“I can’t get you out of my head. I know you don’t care about me, but please let me take you out for dinner some night so we can clear this up."

“I’m just like blah blah blah.”  

“Did you know Pretty Lights got their name from a Pink Floyd poster? ‘Come and See the Pretty Lights.’” 

“I’m sure I can figure out the spacing, I just need to invest some thought.” 

Friday, July 29, 2011

Bill Hicks has been a favorite since 7th grade


"The world is like a ride in an amusement park, and when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. 


The ride goes up and down, around and around, it has thrills and chills, and it's very brightly colored, and it's very loud, and it's fun for a while. 


Many people have been on the ride a long time, and they begin to wonder, "Hey, is this real, or is this just a ride?" 


And other people have remembered, and they come back to us and say, "Hey, don't worry; don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we … kill those people. 


"Shut him up! I've got a lot invested in this ride, shut him up! 


Look at my furrows of worry, look at my big bank account, and my family. This has to be real."


It's just a ride. 


But we always kill the good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok … But it doesn't matter, because it's just a ride. 


And we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings of money. 


Just a simple choice, right now, between fear and love. 


The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. 


The eyes of love instead see all of us as one. 


Here's what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. 


Take all that money we spend on weapons and defenses each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace."


Bill Hicks is the man. 


http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Bill_Hicks

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Ripping My Heart Was So Easy

It’s been a wild year!



One year ago, almost to the day, I had my heart unceremoniously stomped on.

Actually, that description barely does what happened to my poor little heart justice.

This is better:

A hacky sack circle was formed where a bunch of lousy stoners wasted an entire afternoon kicking my heart around before forgetting about it when they left to smoke blunts and watch Entourage.

So

That wasn’t Too Much Fun.

Then came the nightmarish aftermath.

That was…

Actually…

Pretty damn fun!

I mean. It sucked. I was lonely and despairing and all of that great junk.

I could listen to sad songs all day and have them really Mean Something.

Bawling along to Steely Dan’s “Reeling in the Years” - while one person’s tragedy – definitely, super funny.

“The things you think are precious, I can’t understand.”

I may have freaked out a man or two who showed interest.

“Do you want to get coffee sometime?” they’d ask me.

“Sure!” I’d answer.

“OR, instead of coffee…

“Do you want to sleep over at my place every night and cuddle and make food together and NEVER LEAVE ME?”

This is the subtle art of seduction.

No one is able to resist insatiable neediness. ;-) tip tip tipity tip.

So what was the fun part?

Well, you see

“Freedom’s just another word for Nothing Left to Lose.” :-)



Pre hacky sack heart I’d been thinking, “I could settle down in Ohio with this man, get my entry level job, have a little grow op and maybe a dog. Sleep through winters.”

Post blunts and Entourage: “Fuck it. I’m gonna Viva la Vida Las Vegas! And I’m Never Going to Sleep Again!”

My lack of mental stability allowed me to make a series of impossibly risky, unhealthy, and ultimately, super awesome decisions.

“Sometimes shattering defeat is the key to real success.”

One Year Later


I’m impossibly happy.

Happier than I even knew was possible.

My life is going wonderfully.

OR

I often suspect that I’m actually a schizophrenic old woman in an insane asylum simply hallucinating that I’m young, healthy, and free, living the life of (way better than) a rich old dude in Las Vegas.

I became a yoga instructor, and that has changed my life profoundly and beautifully forever.

I’ve gone on some of the most Wild Adventures of my life. And this is really saying something good.

I became my own best friend. I think I’m groovy. 

And, most importantly, I’ve met so many wonderful people. 



Each new person that inspires you makes you grow. Makes your light shine brighter.


Listen, baby, I AM bulletproof.

I lived my junior year of high school in Brazil as an exchange student.



It made me immune to fear.

“Wow! You’re really brave!”

“Thanks, but I prefer to think of it as completely shameless.”

Once I learned at 16-years-old, I could thrive in a foreign country where I knew no one, didn’t understand the culture, and literally, was not speaking the same language

Little things like driving cross-country alone to live in Las Vegas where I knew no one and had no job became EASY.

“Are they going to speak English when I get there?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, I think I’ll manage just fine! That’s my first language!”

Turns out, the hacky sack heart incident has done the same thing for my emotional strength and stability.

Once I learned at 22-years-old that I could be crushed completely by someone I deeply and profoundly loved, and still love very much, and come out of it a better, more complete, more interesting person

Little things like almost anything else became Easy

Why Sweat the SMALL stuff When There’s Fun to Be Had and LOVE to Go Around?

Between yoga and meditating, I just don't get upset for all too long anymore.

I’ll feel down, but then after staring at my arms and legs in different wacky positions while breathing audibly in and out through my nose for an hour or more, I’m walking on sunshine again.




“Ania, look! I can put my leg behind my head! Ania! Are you watching me? Ania! Watch me!”

I yell to Ania from a mountaintop. I’m like a little kid in a pool to their mom.

She ignores me. :P Silly Ania. :-)



It’s you. And you’re breath. And this is More Than Enough.

MORE THAN ENOUGH.

So, happy one year of being over 100% single to me!

I’m looking forward to the two-year anniversary. I’m sure it’ll be even better. 

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Between Courtly Love and the Glory Hole

I read a story the other day. 

A man was arrested when his neighbors called the cops.

He’d been making passionate, thoughtful love to the hole in the top of the picnic table in his backyard.

Sorry picnic table umbrella – you have some competition for this fickle hole’s affections.

Wait… so…

What?! Men will have sex with the holes in picnic tables!? The male libido is ridiculous.

I’ve never once been tempted to have sex with an inanimate object I’ve found in my backyard…

It’s hard enough living as a woman, but feminism aside, I’m glad I don’t have to try and control a penis. 

Men at least make it seem super hard.  

Hehehe super hard.

So I was listening to some music with some friends in college, and I was the only girl in the group.



One of the guys tells me, “We were talking earlier, and we said the ideal romantic relationship for a man is the glory hole. You’ve stuck your penis somewhere, you don’t know exactly who’s servicing it, you don’t have to talk to this person, and then you’re on your way.”

*Sigh. Why couldn’t I have been born a lesbian? Why do I love you lying bastards so much?

“How would you explain a woman’s ideal relationship?”

I lay some enlightenment on the Neanderthals.



“Courtly love is the woman’s ideal relationship. Knights used to go on brave quests to prove their Love for a lady. They’d write them beautiful love poems and dedicate all of their honorable actions to their missus, but they felt it was an imposition to actually approach or talk to the object of their affection.”

So ideally, I’d like a man to worship me and send me neato presents from afar, possibly write some groovy music about me, all while leaving me the hell alone.

This sound super reasonable to me. 

So, the trick to a satisfactory male-female relationship?

Find a compromise between courtly love and glory hole.

That should be super easy. 

Friday, July 15, 2011

So This is LOVE?! dodododo - Cinderella

While on a free 10 day trip to Israel thanks to the Jewish Powers That Be, I met Dan when I was standing in (not on) the Sea of Galilee and knew immediately he was the man of my dreams.



Then, like most dreams, I totally forgot about Dan. 

Turns out Dan is super hard to remember.

But he just came up again, because I was feeling gassy and disgusting and kind of sick the other day, so I was thinking about him.

So I’ve dug up our old Love Letters to make a public declaration of our love for each other before I forget again.

My Dearest Leah,
Israel is so beautiful without you.

Dear Daniel,
How I miss your grating voice and abnormal appearance. Standing by you always made me feel like a better, more attractive person.

In comparison, of course. 

Not like, you actually make me a better person.

My Dearest Leah,
It sucks that you miss me so much.. 

What sucks more is that we would actually make a really great couple if I wasn’t completely out of your league.

Dear Daniel,
I'm going to need your telephone number. 

It is really important we get in touch.

Your cooperation might make the judge look more favorably on you in the future. 



Let me explain.

Remember that one night when you were black out drunk and I told you that I took care of you all night and watched you to keep you safe and then in the morning I told you that you were sore because you fell on the nightstand and hit your pelvis? 



Well... That is kind of what happened. I DID "take care of you" all night.

And you did fall and hit your pelvis on "something" repeatedly.

Against my will. 



Basically, you horny asshole.

NO means NO and I'm keeping it.

AND You Are Paying For It! So call me!



Dear Leah,
All I was doing was trying to populate the Jewish race.

You can’t be mad at me for that, right? Birthright told me to do it!


I can't wait to hear your voice..  it’s like a whisper from an angel to a child :) or like a devil woman screaming NO when she really means YES.
either/or.

My Dearest Daniel,
The first night we met, I saw fireworks! 

It ended up being from dehydration (I almost died), but I at first thought it was because I liked you so much. 

I miss you.



Dear Lumpy butt,


The first night I saw you, I was a little nervous at first that people would wonder why I would be interested in someone so below me physically, intellectually and so on.

However, I figured that people would eventually pity me for my poor luck with women and decide to buy me gifts to compensate.

Since then, I have received a ridiculous amount of charitable gifts including a trip to Vietnam, fine jewelry, and charitable donations in my name to the American Association of Plastic Surgery.

I am so happy that we have met and that you didn't die of dehydration (it just would have been embarrassing for you.)

Hope all is well in ugoville,


Dan

To The Love of My Life,



Ever since I met you, you've been all I can think about, other than: myself, my friends, my job, how much I dislike China, and getting things for free.

I want you to know that I've remained completely faithful to you. 

Not physically faithful, of course - I've had sex with more guys (and girls) than times you've gotten the clap.

I trust that you've been faithful too. 

I'm sure you have, it's way harder for you to get someone to have sex with you than it is for me.

I want nothing else than to be with you. And a puppy. And chocolate.

Someday I shall see you again, meu amor.

Until that day, I'll totally miss you a lot. 



with love and lust

Leah

*p.s. I'll fill your necklace for you any time you want.



* The necklace in question, on Tom's forehead in this photo, is disgusting and Really Exists in Israel. I’m not going to explain the entire concept because it’s very boring. But it involves vaginal juices in exchange for sleeping in…

My Dearest Leahkins,
Saying nice things to me?

Wow life must be getting pretty desperate for you.

How embarrassing.

I bet it’s hard to show your weird face in public sometimes. You already had an unfortunate amount of my pity.. but now?

We better have sex very soon then.. I'm sure it will give you a slew of new insults. My awkward sexual inabilities will force you back into a pattern of cruel jokes and immature degrading.. 

And after all isn't that what the Jews would want?

For us to work so hard to preserve this tradition of sarcastic snobbery and wit.

I'm pretty sure that's what Birthright taught us.

Lachium



Dear Daniel,
I miss your sexy ass. I want to touch you in naughty places and fill up your necklace vial so you can sleep in for a week!

If I'd planned better I could have tried to visit before Christmas... maybe this summer.

Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you.

That is how I know you go on!

Can't wait to serenade you to sleep with our song just like it used to be.



Dear Leah,
I don’t remember you ever serenading me to sleep will Celine Dion, to be honest. 

Maybe it was so horrific my mind did me a favor and blacked it out..

Next time, you should try stripping for me.

I’m sure nothing would put me to sleep more quickly.

 

It would be so awesome if you came to NY (for you at least), but I have to warn you that I can’t really be seen in public with someone of your physique and stature.

Sometimes its hard for me to be so beautiful and loved because it makes me inaccessible to homely people like you.

Hopefully spending time with you can be put towards my community service hours the courts have sentenced me with for driving my car through that football practice after my afternoon Jack Daniels binge.

Either way, I’m sure we can hang out in dark places or at strange hours of the night to catch up.



I miss you like a recovering addict misses crack and I look forward to reading your creepo magazine.
Dan