Postage Stamp Potluck

Etta made a rubbing of Mike's belt. She said "now I will remember this day forever." I'm wondering if this post will help me remember more vividly. I want to remember the way that Carry Carrie Kerry and Johann came in with the cake and the chi chis that I admired but did not eat. I want to remember the way Ray talked about the farm, and told his farm love letter story with a real sense of completeness that I could taste in the peaches. The way Brooke remembered an old love note and reproduced it on the spot. It had the words "I will miss touching your bum" and "I will not miss touching your bum" with illustrations. Corey and Katie thought I didn't wear skirts and I proved it to them by providing witnesses. Dave sealed the deal. Thanks Dave.

New nicknames were born and spirit animals were revealed. Bennyluv mistook Saturday for Sunday and then said, "What, you never played the old Saturday-Sunday Game?" with a mock sheesh kind of tone. Wesley was a river otter. He sat next to Heather, the wolf, who feeds me leftovers. Wesley told a story about a roommate's old girlfriend who came to the house and wrote in lipstick on the mirror, "Dear Ezra. You are an asshole, Fuck you. XOXO, name" He erased it before Ezra woke up, because he really liked Ezra. Later the roommates said, you shouldn't have erased it!

OK, the best thing about the potluck was people kept showing up, which means that new food kept showing up in half hour intervals. And there was secret garlic toast in the oven. I played waitress with the mini baclava. The other best thing was the realization that the people I surround myself with are also sweet note assassins.

Ben helped me make a dream real. There was bonus whispering! We laid in the grass with our heads really close together but our feet really far away. He said that he was still growing into his arms and legs and that they were sore and that he may never get there. I like the idea of growing forever. I don't like the idea of other forevers. After awhile I asked him if his eyes were opened or closed. "Closed." "Me too." We asked about different body parts being open or closed. It seemed like the more important ones were open. I realized that one of my hands was opened, and the other was closed, because if they were both closed I would be lying on a fist. Today I'm tired and grumpy and worrying I am not as open as I thought. Or I'm not as open as I would like to be. I want to be able to "just be" more of the time, without thinking about what may happen, What is happening, what is going to happen next, what does this mean, what does it all mean? Lying in the grass, we were just being, and just being is the most open thing. I like meeting people who can calm me to a state of just being, because those moments are gold and because it has lasting effects. Today I was late for work and I didn't even care.

All Posi, All the Time

We spent the morning trying to figure out what constitutes credit card fraud. Joel was worrying that he may have been a conspirator. He was left with a bad taste in his mouth over a transaction. Things could eat Joel up, really get his mind going.

Yesterday I figured out all of the types I gave to Joel were off, and all of the types he gave to me were off. Like "you seem like the kind of person that does this", to which he responds, "no, that is not me at all."

Kate and I split a buttered bagel and it reminded me of school bagels and how they were fried in butter and tasted like no other bagel. Alden came through my line. She reminds me of Tom Dewing in her subtle gestures. Yesterday I told Ben he also reminded me of Tom Dewing. Heather and I spotted it in his smile, though Heather had only met Tom once. I asked Ben how he spent his last Wednesday but it came out "what was your tradeoff?" with scale weighing hands. He said he was mourning for his grandmother, another speckle towards the Tom Dewing comparison. I often feel turned away by similarities. Stuart reminds me of Greg. TD2 reminds me of TD1. But not this time. Ben is rad.

Kate and I decided to be all posi all the time. When I first met Kate I discovered she was also a storyteller. Something her mom said that she is applying.....What's the good worrying? Does the bee worry about where it will get its honey? Does the bird worry about where it will find its seed?

I think I was already practicing though. I am in loving again. I am capable of crushing again. I did jumping jacks in the break room and asked, "Does this count? Does this count?"