coming back, being back...

...and feeling to sleepy to really update... after many times of staring at the screen and feeling too scattered, too off, too distracted, etc...

there are so many memories...
i knew going in that it would be the experience of a lifetime, and knowing that set a certain expectation. the experience itself did not live up to the expectation but it didn't fall short, was just different. being there didn't shock me out of my universe, like i expected it to, and because of that, i assumed that leaving, coming back here, wouldn't jolt me so violently, and i was wrong there, too. being "back", being in boston, being in reality feels off. hell, not feeling multiple sets of loud music blasting at me all night feels wrong.

but, the memories...
the first one was when the final trip started, in cuthalion's car - i was feeling insanely sleepy after a really long day, but much like the time i forced my eyes open to stare at the twin towers on my first day(night) in america, i glanced out to the front seat, to see the dash and the road disappearing under the hood and knew that image is one that would always stay with me.
i fell in and out of sleep throughout the ride - the next clear memory is of the moment we went off the pavement. it seemed like at the same moment, the car went offroad and the track changed to something that i can only describe as screaming monkeys. it woke me up with a jolt and i was concentrating on degrogging myself in short order while anticipating what would happen next.
soon enough we caught up with lines of cars, picked a lane and were accosted by a greeter. i fumbled to get out of the car, needing to find and put on my burks.... when it came to be my turn to sit in a chair and ring the bell, i sat down and saw the greeter sizing me up, trying to come up with the right thing to say. he said "repeat after me: i hate my boss" and i blinked... realized that i love my boss, that that is a very happy thing, and hit the bell.
we drove out to our campsite, quickly met the people there already, who were worried where everyone and everything is.
our stuff was in a van and hadn't gotten there yet, and after borrowing a pair of pants from j., sol3 and i went wandering to the man. the temple of dog was in its early stages, and the man shone above it. there were people wandering around, and everything felt so crisp, so full of energy. and we could see the milky way, bright above us.

at some point, our stuff arrived, we pitched out tent and memory gets hazy.

monday morning i woke up early, not certain if i was supposed to make scrambled eggs for breakfast. it turned out i didn't, ended up cooking the veggie sausage and having pancakes. the day then included a bunch of unloading of the truck, and i have a very vivid memory of collapsing onto a hammock in l's dome and passing in and out for a number of hours.

gah, time files, and for some reason, i can't force my head into quick list mode. i'll write more later.

(no subject)

out of all the times i've gone on vacation, i've never had this hard a time readjusting to the alarmclock; both yesterday morning and today, it confused, frustrated and annoyed me in very simple "but i don't understand why it exists" ways, rather then "ug, need to get up for work" ways.
the dreams i was having around the time it rang were rather off, too... a part of it included needing to make sure that everything around me (my hair, the velvet frog, the pillow, etc) was damp with a water + vinegar combo to fight off remaining dust... a part had me in a pet store that had a black baby parrot that was twice my size, and another part involved doing some sort of chasing around a warehouse, with something akin to elaborate carts, in which my "older brother" was killed - only throughout the dream, i knew the dream would lead to him dying, and was convinced the plot came from some movie i had seen or a wonder years episode.

driving away from the playa, i heard a cover of leonard cohen's closing time and it seemed incredibly appropriate.
without any focus on that memory, i put in my leonard cohen cd as soon as i got into my car on Wednesday... only the song that got me closest to crying was so long, marianne, and though i didn't hear it again this morning, its stuck in my head right now.

speaking of songs, a song named alexandra has been one of my favorite russian songs since i was a little kid; its part of the soundtrack for moscow doesn't believe in tears and i'm sure its part of why i like the movie so much, too... yesterday, it clicked that i also really like leonard cohen's alexandra leaving and was pondering how that name has stuck to me - and then, i realized/remembered that my (only) cousin is named alexandra - and having to have 'realized' that made me feel weird.

broken day today, too.
hormones, decompression, needing to process out loud and the walls i was using to hold it all back crumbled.
i'm feeling better now, but leaving work early so i can work on feeling well enough to have a fun evening tonight... i really hate breaking, hate breaking on others even more, and hate breaking on others while at work the most. now that my period should be totally regular, i should really think about ways to both sequester myself away during the rough days and ways to shift life so that minimal emotionally charged stuff happens right before and on the rough days.