Thursday, July 21, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Wherein I discuss rocks and squirrels...
Before I begin, let me say by way of explanation that as much as I would like to chronicle all of the long, sordid details of my journey since leaving Los Angeles, I cannot. I find that I lack the energy and the patience necessary to such a process and am not willing to sacrifice my precarious peace of mind to it. Forgive me. If and when you want a rundown, call me. I'm much more comfortable rehashing it all over the phone.
I'm currently sitting in the Temple University dining hall, slowly nibbling at a delicious sort of Spanish rice garnished with capers and green olives, and it's a very good thing I'm nibbling slowly--which I would not otherwise be doing except that I a) am also writing to you, and b) just finished reading Eat, Pray, Love which has inspired me to slow down my usually warp-speed dining habits so as to better enjoy my food--because, mid-bite, I feel my tooth graze what turns out to be a very solid, very tooth-breaking, pea-sized rock. Thank God for those daily, subtle nudgings without which we would inevitably end up scared, lonely, delirious, and dental insurance-less in an unfamiliar Philadelphia medical office. (Although, had I chomped down on that rock, I might have ended up snagging a fairly sizable settlement from Temple University.)
So, while I am not up to the task of familiarizing you with the ins and outs of my last week and a half, I am more than happy to tell you instead all about how I feel and the minutiae that inform those feelings. For example, on the way back from the dining hall just now, as I detoured around a construction site, I crossed paths with two gray squirrels. I have, in fact, passed them (at least I assume it is the same set--not being a squirrel, I find it difficult to tell one from another) in the same general spot everyday for the past week. These squirrels remind me of the squirrels at USC. Except the squirrels at USC seem somehow more urgent, less focused, and slightly more crazed. These Philadelphia squirrels seem instead dazed. Every time I pass them, they only notice me when I'm nearly upon them, letting me far closer than those USC squirrels ever did. Moreover, they look sad. Walking home just now, I began to wonder if the squirrels were not one time residents of what now is that gaping, fenced-off construction site. I wonder if they are animal kingdom IDPs.
I'm currently sitting in the Temple University dining hall, slowly nibbling at a delicious sort of Spanish rice garnished with capers and green olives, and it's a very good thing I'm nibbling slowly--which I would not otherwise be doing except that I a) am also writing to you, and b) just finished reading Eat, Pray, Love which has inspired me to slow down my usually warp-speed dining habits so as to better enjoy my food--because, mid-bite, I feel my tooth graze what turns out to be a very solid, very tooth-breaking, pea-sized rock. Thank God for those daily, subtle nudgings without which we would inevitably end up scared, lonely, delirious, and dental insurance-less in an unfamiliar Philadelphia medical office. (Although, had I chomped down on that rock, I might have ended up snagging a fairly sizable settlement from Temple University.)
So, while I am not up to the task of familiarizing you with the ins and outs of my last week and a half, I am more than happy to tell you instead all about how I feel and the minutiae that inform those feelings. For example, on the way back from the dining hall just now, as I detoured around a construction site, I crossed paths with two gray squirrels. I have, in fact, passed them (at least I assume it is the same set--not being a squirrel, I find it difficult to tell one from another) in the same general spot everyday for the past week. These squirrels remind me of the squirrels at USC. Except the squirrels at USC seem somehow more urgent, less focused, and slightly more crazed. These Philadelphia squirrels seem instead dazed. Every time I pass them, they only notice me when I'm nearly upon them, letting me far closer than those USC squirrels ever did. Moreover, they look sad. Walking home just now, I began to wonder if the squirrels were not one time residents of what now is that gaping, fenced-off construction site. I wonder if they are animal kingdom IDPs.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Dear Family and Friends, Dear Universe, Dear Self-
I'm not really sure if I'm breathing anymore. Except that I am, as I have a cold and am therefore painfully aware of every belabored breath. What I mean though is, air and I have lost touch. Over the last week and a half, even over the last two months, I have been so preoccupied with the changes happening in my life that I've forgotten how to breathe. I'm either suffocating or hyperventilating, but never just inhaling and exhaling. (I mean this metaphorically, of course.) To those of you, like air, that I have neglected in my preoccupation, I'm sorry.
There is so much to tell you of my travels and general goings ons, indeed I'd planned to tell you now, but I am ill and tired, so it will have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say that I am safe and whole and coping, and that I love and miss you very much.
With warm thoughts and heavy eyelids,
MacKenzie
PS: Listening to this song while writing to you, I realized that it captures quite aptly my attitude and emotional state. In the verse and chorus, Miriam Stockley sings about a perfect day, but the bridge suddenly becomes dark and sombre. Read what you will into this.
There is so much to tell you of my travels and general goings ons, indeed I'd planned to tell you now, but I am ill and tired, so it will have to wait for another time. Suffice it to say that I am safe and whole and coping, and that I love and miss you very much.
With warm thoughts and heavy eyelids,
MacKenzie
PS: Listening to this song while writing to you, I realized that it captures quite aptly my attitude and emotional state. In the verse and chorus, Miriam Stockley sings about a perfect day, but the bridge suddenly becomes dark and sombre. Read what you will into this.
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