I miss all things Italian. And I don't think it'll ever go away.

Paper planes

You'd asked me to go to the airport with you, and I'd turned you down. It was an hour away, and you were afraid you'd fall asleep. It was 2 a.m. I wasn't jumping at the chance because then, you were you, and it wasn't a big deal.

But really, with my obsession with airports. What was I thinking?

Note to self: Make the mistake first. Fix it later. Action versus inaction.


Photo courtesy of Creative Commons. "100,000 Paper Planes and Melodies Over Monroe" at the 2009 ArtPrize Paper Plane Event in Grand Rapids, MI.

More than 20,000 artists gathered in the crux of the city as Monroe Avenue was shut down on September 27th. 100,000 paper airplanes were released from the rooftops of 6 major buildings as 20,000 musicians of all walks played a single melody. I know this event happened far far away from our fair city, but it was too cool not to write about.

rough draft: so how do you play the game?

Do you want to hang out later? She'd texted him as they were waiting in the car at the airport terminal. She didn't know where she was going with it, but she'd had a few drinks.

Sure, he'd said.

That was how the end began.

She never used to ask, she'd just come over, plop down on his futon and they'd watch movies. He could never watch them alone. She didn't like watching movies alone either. She was easily distracted. She didn't know him well then. But he had a lot of free time that summer and so did she.

Come to the airport with me, he said.

What? It's 2 a.m. Why?

I have to take my mom.

Isn't that going to be awkward?

She secretly loved the idea of meeting his mom. Even though mothers never seemed to take to her. She was better with fathers.

...

She had had a feeling he liked her, and she was hardly ever wrong. So she toyed with the idea, and then she found herself wondering what it'd be like. It was one of those things.


"----

I walked by your room earlier this evening, and I paused. I'd heard your room was still unlocked. You'd left sheets on your bed, some old clothes folded, and your keys laid on your desk. Your keys. I, I had my keys together as I was walking around the city today, and I had them in my hand, and out of nervous habit I started flipping them with my fingers, in my hands, and it was the same sound, the way we always knew who was entering the kitchen, or the stairway because you always had those keys in your hands. You had this ocd habit of locking your door every time you left the room. And now you're gone, and your room, it still smells of you, the door's not locked. You're not there anymore.


....


He was from Edmonton, a small suburb outside Oklahoma City. She found herself toying with the idea of moving to middle America. Living in a town where life was paced, where people had down time, where kids had bonfires, and everyone really knew everyone and weekends were spent boating on the lake or fishing in the middle of the night. It was a nice idea.

....

They were all perfectly wrong. Living embodiments of the idea of perfection in imperfection. They were all a part of the game. A series of overlapping realities, from careless banter to sex that meant more than nothing. Eventually, it was all fucked.

So if I'm merely acquainted with someone or if I've never met them I TRY not to stalk them around the internet because then I form this opinion of them when I don't even really know them. And generally you cannot form a realistic opinion of someone based solely on their online profile. It just doesn't work.

I've signed up for Date Lab on Washington Post.com out of boredom and I've half made match.com profiles that no longer exist. And the other night I fiddled on OKCupid, but got bored real quick.

And then I thought, doesn't anyone form relationships organically anymore?

It's really sad.

Even though my opinion of online dating sites has altered over the years; they're not filled with total weirdos. I think, aside from the fact that match.com makes you pay some absurd amount. I think I will refrain, not because I don't feel that desperate. But because shit, I kind of like it the organic way. Like in real life, over a random passing or who knows. But you know.

Maybe I'm a bit old school here.

And I'm not just ragging on online dating.



As organic food is healthier for you, I think organic relationships may suit me better.

won't stop to surrender

getting off the great mope train.

I went out to Josephine's last night for Ray's birthday despite having a 9 a.m. final exam this morning. I didn't drink, and I still had a damn good time. I think I may cut back on the alcohol. I hate the feeling of getting wasted for the sake of getting wasted. Then having to wake up to nurse a hangover. Nothing about it seems attractive anymore. My former self of 4 months ago would beg to differ, but I guess it's different when you're running through the streets of Florence in the pouring rain, by the most beautiful piazza in the whole damn world. Who has to worry about real life then?

We left at 2 a.m. and I passed out around 3 a.m. Woke up this morning at 8 a.m. and headed back into the city.

And you know, this morning was the first time I've thought, today is marvelous, in awhile. Lackluster has accounted for most of the past few months; men who were around, who were just around because I was that bored.



But maybe this city isn't a lost cause.

Feinberg chronicles the grittier side of dreams

Blaze Starr at the Plaza on New York Avenue & 14th Street, N.W.: Photo by Paul Feinberg, Another Washington

Tuesday mornings are spent in production for the American Observer. In the future, my wrinkles and stress lines will be traced back to this time.

The sound of settling.

One evening

It's an old song, but I heard it for the first time in Claire's UCL dorm last January. It was one of those cold London mornings, and I was getting ready for the day, and it came on shuffle. And it reminded me of one of those evenings, getting ready for a date with a new man, over dinner, or drinks in a pub, dim light, candlelight, one of those stories that just has this great potential to end terribly, but for awhile, in the beginning, it's something worthwhile.

Ode to Claire

11:11:14 PM Claire Metcalfe: i came up with the best halloween costume the other day
11:11:16 PM Claire Metcalfe: so good
11:12:17 PM Kim Ha: CLAIRE
11:12:21 PM Claire Metcalfe: what
11:12:24 PM Kim Ha: you jsut gave me a list of HEALTHY 20 CALORIE THINGS
11:12:26 PM Kim Ha: OLIVES
11:12:29 PM Kim Ha: saLAD
11:12:30 PM Kim Ha: CHESTNUTS
11:12:35 PM Claire Metcalfe: crisps.................
11:12:38 PM Claire Metcalfe: a lot of them
11:12:42 PM Kim Ha: leaves and sticksss
11:12:45 PM Kim Ha: what is the halloween costume
11:12:47 PM Claire Metcalfe: biscuit.. those buttery things
11:12:51 PM Claire Metcalfe: ice cream
11:12:54 PM Claire Metcalfe: but moving on
11:13:06 PM Claire Metcalfe: at least there was no alcohol
11:13:16 PM Claire Metcalfe: the PIED PIPER!!!
11:13:30 PM Claire Metcalfe: im going to attach rats on fishing wire to me
11:13:32 PM Claire Metcalfe: fake rats
11:13:43 PM Claire Metcalfe: so they trail behind me when i walk
11:14:45 PM Claire Metcalfe: and also i was thinking of dessing bosco up as a rat too
and have him follow me



Exactly why our friendship has lasted so long.

New York, I love you

I've tried watching Paris, Je t'aime twice and both times I got distracted. Anyway, I want to see this flick.

And I want to live in NYC or LA for a time after graduation. Though I've never had a desire for either city, in fact I've never even taken to either very much, ever since I got back from Florence, I don't know, something's changed. We'll see where I end up a year from now. I'm just restless here. I've spent my entire life here. That's probably all this city will ever be to me, home.

You know I'm just going to break your heart

I don't know what it is about these days. I'm tired of all things related to the opposite sex. I'm tired of dating, I'm tired of looking, I'm tired of trying to get over it, I'm just over it.

I don't have the energy.

And is it weird that I just want to sit at a bar, or in a cafe over a cup of coffee with an old friend and conversate? I'm not looking for an easy hook up. I'm really not looking for any hook up. I just want to go back to the days when it was simpler. When it was all talk and banter and nothing else ever went into play. Just old friends over coffee.

It seems comforting.

As much as I'm anti-institution of marriage. Weddings make me cry. I'm one of those. And last night we were at this girl's bachelorette party. I don't know her, but I'm figuring she's found someone she's excited to spend the rest of her life with.

Now that's deep. Probably the only deep thing in this world. That's a long time.



And I keep looking at your pictures on your facebook. I don't know what the hell it is. I screwed you over, and here I am wondering. I know it's just the whole idea that I'm so enthralled with. That someone could want to be with me to that degree, and I threw it away. Because I didn't want it. Well, fuck, what if no one ever comes around like that again? And my friends keep telling me my problem is this fear of commitment, running away when anyone gets too close, and though I'll admit to it. On the other end, it's not like I've ever been met on the other side of this string.

Sigh. It's one of those Sundays.

Where you wake up and wonder why you drunk texted the people that you did.


I miss talking with you. That's really it.

And maybe it's because I have no other distraction right now and I'm incredibly bored. or maybe it's because once upon a time, you mattered. And I hate losing touch.

Where everybody knows your name

Twenty years ago, you were my favorite.

You're completely who you are, you're completely crazy and you do what you want.

And I admire you.


You may just be the only other human on this earth that I actually admire in that way.

I don't know what it is about death and accidents that make us slow down our all too busy lives to watch the events as they've unfolded. I mean, when there's a car accident, I'm one of the people along with every single other person on that road that has to slow down and look.

So when I hear about people who've died, sometimes I'll go read their journals or their Facebook pages. That's right, I stalk down complete strangers who are no longer even alive. I don't know why really. And then I read what their loved ones say about them. And then sometimes, weeks, months, even years after the fact, I'll go back and check up to see how their loved ones are faring.

I know it's weird. And of course I don't do this with every single person who's died that awakens my curiosity. But it happens.

maybe we'll make something out of this life

I'm stubborn. You told me that once. I can't remember what we were talking about, but you just said it and I thought, no one's ever really said that to me in that way, except for my mother. And somehow it got you a point in my book.

I don't like being told what to do, and these days I'm cranky to a fault. In our Observer class the other day, the class where we produce our online magazine, the professor asked us if we saw ourselves in positions of leadership. I mean, we all chose to invest our time and money into this program, so it must mean we're setting ourselves up for bigger things, right? And all this time, I had thought, I was just trying to set myself up for a job. But then, I guess it makes sense. All this time I've been freaking out about ending up in a real cardboard box on the street somewhere because all of these degrees hanging in their frames on the walls don't really seem to mean anything in the real world. But then I thought about it, apparently only 26 percent of Americans actually receive a degree higher than high school diploma. Well damn, if I'm only competing against 26 percent of Americans - probably less, since I have even more than that, then why the hell does it seem so impossible?

Anyway, point being, my professor asked me directly and I responded with a hesitant answer. I mean, shit, if I ever get into some position of leadership, it would've been beyond what I ever foresaw. But afterward, I found myself thinking, it may be the only way to go, since I have this thing about control.

And I'm consistently paranoid about miss-perception. Years ago, before the age set in, I was always just this nice girl. And these days, I fear people meet me and think I'm unfriendly, stuck up or hostile. I always wanted to be one of those people that you meet and you instantly get that good feeling about. Sadly, my inward feelings of awkwardness and shyness have had this tendency of giving off a not so friendly vibe.





Sigh.



That's pretty much my one word reply to life at the moment.

Oh yea, I turned 25 last week.

I always wanted to do something big with my life. Write a book or something. Be a part of something big. And dedicate it to my parents.

I'll probably never get there.

You think, you've experienced your highest highs and your lowest lows and then you've got the every day muddle, the way it feels, every day. And you wonder if this is what the rest of your life is just going to feel like?