Well, the days of Camelot may be here and gone. This has been the most trying year of my life thus far and it is still yet a baby. I have been keeping a Captain's log in a small calendar. It's been most interesting. Here are a few details for those unfamiliar with my life: On January 1st I left my husband to run away from a stagnant life (not really his fault, but we were both swimming in it). I ran with my parter in crime, Drew, as pictured learning to knit below somewhere in this blogging abyss. I was going to insert a picture of this, but this blog is so damn slow to load. Nevermind. We made a pact to each other involving freedom, honesty, and tandem bikes. What could make a more solid foundation? I don't know. We waxed quixotic about our personal ideals and how we had both stifled them for years. It was a new beginning.

As we ran we really had no place to go. We were physical and emotional nomads for a solid five days (I have this documented remember). We may still be emotional nomads, but for the time being we had to comfort each other with stock cliches like, "It's going to be alright." "Tandem bike" seemed to be a bit more thereaputic, so that became a staple. We lived in motel rooms, lost most of our friends. I lost my family for awhile. It was devastating. And so freeing. We searched for an apartment and found the best one I could imagine. It seemed like things were falling in line. But there was still much karmic debt to pay.

Freedom comes at a price. Eventually you begin to resist it. Begin to question it. Begin to resent it's ever ebbing refrains. We had our freedom, but we still needed each other so much, used each other for emotional blankets. It began to take it's toll. We took turns being the strong one. It was me at first, but then I began to grow comfortable in this role, and "the ceiling fell around me, the sky was open to me, but my hands were tied, the ropes are tied around my wrists." So, skipping over the hilarious moments, like climbing and peeing on campus buildings, taking funny illicit photos, drinking and going to the park in the middle of the night, stealing street cones, feeding record addictions, freaky salt&vinegar sex, I go straight to the climax of this story...Drew went to California. To figure shit out, etc.

But I can't really let him be the climax of the story. After all, this is my story muthas. Damn skippy. And I'm going to keep on telling it. Since he's left I have refreshed myself too. It was better for the both of us to remember how to breathe as individuals. I don't blame you, Drew. It was the best thing you could have done. I remembered all the things I liked to do (besides knitting...FOR SHAME!) and I've begun again. The phoenix has risen. I have reawakened my love for poetry and reiki, reading for pleasure (and not just the dirty birdy kind either ;)). I am reinventing myself. So fuck you guys if you don't like it! I haven't been this happy in a few reinventions of myself. But this is a good one. I have kick ass roommates, even if they are attached at the hip/lip. Here they are:

Not a great view of Ruben, but Nicole is the lady (half of the Rubnic, get it?) and she is one hell of a lady. I haven't lived with a girl (outside of fam members) for about 4 years, but it is working out splendidly. The cat is another story...That cat's something I can't explain.