nomad'z land

thats right. THATS FUCKING RIGHT. well, maybe im exaggerating a little bit…

i think only j knows this about me, but whenever the song “freebird” comes on in the car, it must be blasted at maximum volume and i will not exit the vehicle until the song is finished, even if it just started and ive already reached my destination. there may be ties to forrest gump somewhere in this anecdote but that is beside the point (i still hate you, jenny). freebird is the ultimate ear drug for me and i just NEED it. i feen for that shit, dog. when i hear it, i get transported to this other realm where im a real-life hippie who drops loads of acid and doesnt experience paranoia or negativity ever. like, i totally have visions of j and i performing this song on stage together one day, full fucking force. in front of an audience of millions, everyone cheering so hard their hair and teeth fall out of their faces. i would have to learn how to play the drums first, but theres time for that later. unless i die sooner than that, in which case damn it.

serendipitously, j and mikey were playing warren haynes’ christmas jam in asheville, north carolina (see below) where, coincidentally, artimus pyle resides. artimus pyle is the drummer for lynyrd skynyrd, makers and creators of my ear drug, freebird. look, im not groupie status about lynyrd skynyrd, so sue me im not quite up to date on the exact names, birth dates, and mugshots of said band members. so la-di-da, im hanging side stage with mama during js set, sipping a beer and sweating my balls off (read below my inexperience with utilizing layers correctly), when i turn around and see the most glorious outfit id seen since, well since id last looked in the mirror (ha ha… ha.) i just loved it. its totally what i would wear if i were a much older man. or if i were just myself, a 29 year old man. after crushing on this outfit for two minutes and 34 seconds, i decided to approach this older gentleman who had an air about him that said “i am a famous rock star, you can suck my dick and the best part is that i probably wont even have to force you” — you know the one, you can tell theyre famous but you dont really know who they are then the next thing you know its the morning after and youre in some unfamiliar hotel room with a massive headache and you cant find your clothes wait what? — and with a flamboyant and demonstrative flash of my hand, i said “excuse me, but i love whats going on here. this outfit. its amazing.” then he said something to the effect of “hot ladies” in regards to me and mama (apparently i need to work on my listening skills), to which mama may or may not have giggled. then he shook my hand and asked me for my name, to which i cleverly responded with a breathy “depends on whos asking” with a wink and a smile and a shimmy of the shoulder… no, i did not say that, why would i have said that. i am not that lame unless im drunk, its five years ago, and he were 35 years younger (just kidding, even then i would never). anyway, what i really said was “sharon, whats yours?” and he said “artimus pyle.” and i said “no shit, is that your real name?” and he said “… artimus pyle…. of lynyrd skynyrd.” and he kind of said the last part as a question, as if the question’s literal meaning were “bitch. you dont know who i am?” (but he actually was very pleasant). somewhere inside of me i must have thought “ohhhh” (it wasnt until later when j was like, “dude. freebird. your jam.” that i was like “OHHHHHH!!!!! shiiiit!!” i offer no excuse for this temporary retardation) but outside i just said “oh. well i need a picture with you and your outfit because its amazing and the next time we see each other i will be wearing the exact same thing.” and he said “sure.” then he mistook michael for my boyfriend instead of j and i felt like i needed to change the universe because i dont want to live in that one. no offense to anyone.

welp, after he guest-drummed during my boo’s set (right!??) i got my picture with ol’ artie and his fab outfit. wish i got his shoes too, darn! maybe next time. thanks boodle! i can tack on artimus pyle to the list of awesomely famous people ive met since weve been together, added to santana and prince……….. oh wait……….. 😉

I KNOW. EPIC.

last show of the year (in the states) hallelujers! j and mikey played warren haynes’ christmas jam, their last in a few-day run for radio christmas shows or something in the south, but this was no radio show, to be clear.

i flew what seemed like all day to get into asheville where js mama picked me up and we proceeded to drink cause thats what happens when we get together. met her squeeze jimmy who turned out to be quite likeable. mama and i then ate way too much food at some mexican place and also drank some more. i returned to my hotel where i was in and out of consciousness cause i never watch tv going to sleep and i was hooked on stupid reality show shit so i was reluctant to turn it off. you know i realized i never watch reality tv anymore and im not on social media. therefore im probably a much better person than i was a few years ago when i was on it and  i mean ON IT. anyhoo.

got in a solid workout the next morning, then andrea picked me up with her swollen ass twisted ankle and we moseyed on to get some juice and shit then to my boodles at his hotel! yo. this hotel was banging for several reasons. one it was walking distance from the venue which we didnt even walk to cause it was too cold plus were lazy/tired. two it used to be an ivey’s. you know IVEYS remember in.. fuck whats the book. THE HELP. i think its the same place she went to shopping. so i was really confused when i was looking for js room and it said “4th floor womens wear” i was like what the fuck i want to see my lover not shop. which sounds very unlike me, hmm. oh yeah im broke, thanks for reminding me. money not love though, so i still win.

are you able to follow me? this is ridiculous, i know. ummm trying to skip over unimportant details. so i was wearing like layers and layers of clothing which i ended up peeling off my two-pants ensemble cause i was sweating beastmode. crikey. j and mikey also ended up removing their long johns. hehehe. personally me likeyed their pre-jam jam session where all sorts of scoundrels (i think they were all warren’s band actually) were coming up to play with them cause theyre so dope. i googled who they were ready? ron holloway on sax (amaze; he played with dizzie gillespie what!!); ron johnson on bass; casey driessen on fiddle (loved his shoes — red ostrich, say whaaa); jeff sipe on drums (i think mama had a crush on him); ike stubblefield on the keys (hes played with everyone motown); and i think thats it. then they went on real stage which was cool and which is where i met artimus PYLE which necessitates its own blog (to follow). short set, about 45 or so?

after the show we hung with the baker family whose daughter azaria has aicardi syndrome. i love seeing them, so so sweet and their little boy aidan loooooves j but who doesnt. amazing beautiful people and its always a nice surprise to see them pop up in random places. i also love knowing that my man is a legitimately genuinely good and kind one. it makes me want to be better and we all know sometimes im a real fuckin bitch. but mostly im sweet as pie so were just a match made in fucking heaven i guess! oh god im so over myself.

got back to the hotel late as fuck, j slept 3 hours before leaving back to sf before leaving that same night to bali. what a life. what a fucking life. first world problems but shits exhausting. ill just fucking say it. anyhoo i slept a while more then mama picked me up for (more drinking and) a trip to the omni grove park inn which is historical and amazing. did you know that thomas edison, henry ford, and harvey firestone passed through this place often back in the day and that f scott fitzgerald stayed here when zelda was in an insane asylum in asheville? HISTORY!!!! literary historical figures i die. i just fucking die. also! ten presidents have stayed here which is a lot less interesting than fitzgerald unless were talking jfk who did not stay here. anyway blah blah it was wonderful and then i came home. 30 degree difference if not more so again my layers proved futile. and i was sweating again.

i also finished this book entitled “an abundance of katherines” by john green which is on muthafuckin POINT. i will end this blog with two of my favorite quotes from the book and boyyyy there were a ton:

“mysterium tremendum et fascinans. the fear and the fascination. the great and terrible awe” (duality!! duality of life. perfectly put.)
“i dont think your missing pieces ever fit inside you again once they go missing.” (ughhhhhh is that just real or what. thats heartbreak in the most eloquent nutshell of life.)

okay see yaz.

holy CARP yes CARP its so cold. you know carp like the fish.

j n da band all moseyed on down (up? i dont know) to napa for the day saturday to play a fundraiser for mikey and saras foundation at this winery, whitehall. 1) amazing wine and AMAZING AUTHENTIC PIZZA MADE BY A REAL ITALIAN out of a wood oven oh my godddddddddddd best pizza of my life and you know i KNOW my muthafuckin pizza. bury me in pizza. or cremate me in a wood pizza oven with some cheese and pepperoni. guuuuurl. 2) ive re-lost my drinking mojo, fuck! i even was drinking lots n lots o wata but nausea still kicked in. im definitely not pregnant so it cant be that. fail. maybe i have some unique liver cancer. ill go get checked out now.

so it was COLD COLDDDDD so cold and i was so pissed i forgot to put my fleece leggings on under. waaaah! not that we were outside the whole time but still, shiet. drove to napa with cat, bulby, and cats dog harry who ended up eating my lip gloss. lip gloss is no longer poppin 😦 love the owners of the winery, tom and jackie who btw is gorge. rich people who are actually nice are dope. like my beanie. yes i am wearing it right now.

well, thats about it, we got there, we drank, we ate, they played, oh my god the version of “im alive” they played was soooooo good. i was nearly moved to tears. can you imagine, how embarrassing would that have been. i may be a hippie on the inside but i am not going to start showing my emotions to randoms via tears, j would never let me live it down.

oh!!! i forgot the beginning. most important part!!!! flight to sf was delayed (of course) so i flew into oakland thinking j would be home but he was at mikeys which is pretty much by sfo, whoops! so GUESS WHAT. i will tell you what: i took the BART BY MYSELF from oakland airport to as close to mikeys as i could get. i know!!!! im in grad school AND i took public transportation by myself for the first time?? (cabs dont count, if they did i would be a connoisseur) it was very exciting. i just kept telling myself to act cool and tough in case someone tried to mess with me which i was like oh god pleeeeease dont let anybody talk to me.

then i get to mikeys and had to take a peepee so i did then the toilet flooded (it was like a slow motion black and white where the toilet water is rising and making crazy noises and my eyes grow wider and the camera zooms in on my widening eyes as the background moves farther behind) and i screamed HELP!!! so mikey and j spent the next 20 minutes cleaning my peepee off the bathroom floor. in my defense there was already tp in there and i was already on my way to sit when i noticed it so i figured it would just go down the drain as we naturally expect. wrong. thank gods i didnt diarrhea. and that my pee was pretty dang clear. also in my defense they sopped up most of the at least 1-inch pee flood mess and i cleaned the rest aka mopped it clean. im just not good with that kind of stuff. i figure itll come to me when i pop out a kid or two. if not, well, thats what my parents and hired help are for. and j. cause j is good at that kind of stuff.

ugh okay one more thing while were on the subject. speaking of kids. we were watching “the road” last night with viggo mortensen. i had this realization that i just might make a terrible mother, but if j is my partner in childrearing then the kid wont be so bad cause he is really good at stuff. the kid just kept annoying the fuck out of me and i kept saying “ughhh shut the fuck up kid” and j would be like “well, think about what hes been through, poor guy” then id be quiet and think “ah shit im such an ass hole.” in conclusion, this is why aint nobody havin kids anytime soon. oh god am i going to be a terrible mother. 😦

by phase, i mean semester. i began my first semester of grad school (15 weeks ago?!) with equal parts trepidation, eagerness, anxiety, excitement. well some of those are kinda synonymous so nevermind, i already digress. i think learning how to balance all the shit i piled on all at once was a big hurdle for me — grad school, prereqs, work, traveling, relationship, friendships. volunteering, therapy, rehabing the knee, me time.

i was having a conversation with someone on the plane the other day about being “busy”. we came to the conclusion that there is always going to be somebody busier than you. but the busiest person in the universe is probably someone with all you can imagine PLUS rearing like 6 kids at one time.. as a single mother. the lesson i got was not to stop whining and bitching and moaning, but to allow myself to be in awe of how much can possibly be fit into a period of 24 hours. or how much information can be stuffed into 1300 g of brain.

im not sure i can encapsulate all ive learned in this first semester into one book much less blog. not just what i learned in my classes or in books, but from my fellow art therapy students and from myself. i dont think ill be able to truly reflect on it and understand what ive retained until ive had super super super downtime, so expect some really hippie dippy trippy shit in my bali blog whomp whomp.

a big thing is perspective — to put it succinctly: few things, if any, that we swear will just kill us, will actually kill us. what i mean is, im not going to keel over and die from taking 10 classes in one semester. my heart isnt going to stop pumping blood throughout my body if i dont get all my homework and projects and reading and work done on time. my lungs will not say “fuck you” and deflate, never to inflate again, if i dont figure out the next ten years of my life, or even the next fucking year of my life. at the same time, sure, i need a plan of some sort. plans are good. priorities are good. but theyre not going to dictate whether i live or die in this moment. or the next one or the one after that. also, we have the capabilities to be stressed and freaking out aka were still alive!! so man up self.

another big’un is compassion. this one is a doozy. a toughie. first up is compassion for yaself. ive learned that once i get that going its so much easier to be compassionate to others. negative self talk is such a bitch to get rid of, god damn. but if i remember that its a part of me that, like anything else in life inside and out, can only be dealt with effectively with LOVE rather than hate, well, it makes a world of difference. after all, hate is a pretty big synonym for fear. oo back to synonyms im so good at inadvertently full circling these thangs.

in conclusion, oh wait. one more thing. i dont know if id ever tell any of the gals this, and i definitely wouldnt name names, but there were definitely some people in my class that i was for sure id not like. then i got to know em for longer than a two second conversation and i was proven wrong, so wrong. and now were like this crazy family. in our last class of the semester, group therapy, we laughed and were cuckoo and cried, and it was great. sidenote: its not weird that we cried cause at the very least, one person cries each week in class, and its totally acceptable which is awesome. anyway theres this perfect and consistent mixture of honesty and compassion and willingness to learn and grow that ive never seen before, at least in a group of people, that gets cultivated in each class and grows every day, and maybe its cause youre mixing art and psychology, so its just emotion x100000000, but fuckballs, i am so grateful for this grad program and all the people in it, all my teachers, everything ive learned in and out of class. i think its the beginning of a beautiful thing.

ps im also ever grateful for my family and friends and my amazing boodle who have been so fucking patient with me and not given me shit for being batshit weird at times, and for not giving me crap for being so unavailable as i did my best (and sometimes didnt have enough in me to give a shit to do my best) to navigate my way through this transition into real life. i love you more than i could ever say.

flew up for the night to see my sweetface and go to lynn’s photo exhibit for her new book rock and roll stories at the san francisco art exchange. lynn goldsmith is the coolest woman of this and last century probably. someone that cool should be a major dick but shes totally dope. i think shes photographed everyone and i mean everyyyyy one since the 60s. naturally ive been inspired. for my first exhibit im going to recreate her most prolific subjects and photographs, seen below. mission statement: in my work, i toe the line between idiocy and genius.

our sweet geoffrey charles weil flew the nest to sunnier climes with perhaps better pakololo. we said our goodbyes and drowned our sorrows in popcorn and beer at pineapple hill which turned out to be a pretty solid reunionfest. god i love popcorn. we love you weil stallion!!