the truth is struggling to be said

i lost a friend in the avalanche yesterday. her name is heather gross. she was skiing inbound and got hit by the avalance... by the time they found her (an hour later) it was too late. although she was still alive, she died soon after she was flown to the hospital.
last time i spoke to her she told me how funny it was because she got asked on a ski date by 2 different guys who were best friends and they didn't know they both asked her out. she thought it was hilarious. so did i. her last facebook comment said "heather is skiing freshness for the next mannny days and maybe does not have to drop out of school". she was soo excited about the snow. i love people that get excited about the weather. she studied linguistics and was good at it, but never took herself too seriously, like so many of us like to do. she seemed to realize it was all temporary...
heather i am glad, we saw obama win together and shared that night...
i know this will sound cliche but i swear it happens to the best people out there. i know none of us are immune to it, but it always seems so untimely to the best ...
she was probably the easiest person to get along with in the department.
"I hear in my mind all of this music, and it breaks my heart", that was her religion, she said.
i am sorry heather. i wish i believed in some type of afterworld and i could say things like, you are better off there or you are in a better place or i will see you there, and all the other stuff people say and i wish i could say it too, because it would sure make me feel better. but i know it is all bs, i know you were here and now you are not. you were a beautiful girl heather. that i know. you said skiing was your your favorite thing in the world. i am glad you were skiing heather when it happened.

a secret (or me trying to wink)

ironically on my radio show today i am interviewing three bloggers.
in fact the whole show is about blogging.
and they don't even know about mine...
does anybody?

today is not just another day

today:

1. it is snowing (finally) beautifying everything it covers, like the first kiss or even the first fight...

2. this morning i dropped dagny off at a high school, where she is 'shadowing' another student. although her mind is set on another high school, this is the one i went to. this building and its' occupants were my fist experiences with this country, this language, this people, in every possible way. as i walked the halls with dagny next to me this morning, it felt odd, hurried, fast. the time has gone by so fast, is it possible that i have a 14 year old daughter? is this really my life, i wondered. oddly, as i stepped outside i realized that i actually have a lot of life ahead of me... instead of feeling old, i felt surprisingly young.

3. at 10:05, by which time i had finished my coffee at least 40 minutes prior, i had a strong urge, need, want to have tea and almonds. i scraped my pockets and found $6.00 exactly. as i ran to a little store in the student housing building by my office, i was wondering if the mean lady who is always there would be working today. there is no way she would let me get away with being few cents short. well, she was there, being her typical self as ever, but my total was $5.97.

4. the snow has not stopped falling...

this is not just another day

he+i

... you grow up the day you have your first real laugh, at yourself...
Ethel Barrymore

well not really the first one, but...

i can hardly wait for

orgasm. the moment i lock my eyes with a friend in total trust, over coffee. first time i get off the train/bus/plane in a new country. reading when there are 5 pages left to the end of the book. going on a road trip with johnny, especially if we end up in torrey. sound of a projector firing up as the lights go dark in the movie theater. first snow. first sip of coffee in the morning on a snowy day, any day. the sound of georgian language, especially randomly heard on the streets of New York. being sad to have woken up because i was dreaming about my grandmother. seeing dagny smile and have a good time with her friends. seeing dagny taking photos. being at a great live music show.

last show i saw was Old Crow Medicine Show. here are some of their lyrics. beautiful.

If the river was whiskey and I was a duck
I'd dive to the bottom boys I'd never come up

I cried last night and the night before
I swore not to cry anymore

tonight i realized that it has been a while since i have been sad. like really down. i have been so busy running around that i have forgotten to enjoy my own sad days. so tonight i will pretend to be really sad.

obama-ration

today in my class, as different people presented different activities in front of the whole classroom, as they were loading up their power points, their computer desktops showed images of obama. wow! i can't think at any other point in my life when i have seen young people's screen savers being their country's president. that's really exciting.

dive

i love radio. 

thus radioactive 6:00 pm on krcl every friday and occasional 'dirty boulevard' on mondays at 10:30pm, sitting in for jionny.

our music tastes are similar, we are 'salt lake friends' which is this general term that i have come up with referring to that special bond that one builds with another over years in this city, without ever being 'best friends' or 'lovers' but somehow the bond is strong, in fact in some ways impenetrable. perhaps this happens in every city, but it is different in this city. anyway that's another topic. here is what i did want to say

i often dive in the water, not wondering if i am a good swimmer. i dive in because i really want to swim. i want it so badly that i forget to ask myself: toma do you know how to swim? i often can't wait and don't even take my dress off. this spontaneity is exciting to my body, my brain. in fact i feel really natural in the water, i feel as though i have always been swimming. but is what seems always what is? i start thinking maybe this is not good, maybe i will drown. i don't want to drown, i want to stay in the water for a long long time, swimming. beautifully. i want to charm the beasts. i want to go as deep as i can, in the darkest parts of the ocean. i act fearless of the darkness and the cold water and the beasts in the water,  but reality is i have always been scared to drown.  

i love radio. that is how 

mexico day G

   great   greater   golden

mexico day F

fearless    

free     

full

mexico day E

    early    easy    exciting

mexico day D

   dark   deadly   devine

mexico day C

    calm

    conversational

    conscious

mexico day B

bloody
bold
brilliant

mexico day A

afloat
alive
alone

conference

it was great! meeting everyone was great, especially bernard, a french priest with perfect georgian, sasha a young extremely smart student who spoke in georgian so well that he was correcting my speech (or trying to) plus, he spoke many other dialects that I can't even pretend to understand. Mr. Gippert, a german professor also with immaculate georgian, etc. my presentation was fine, but nothing compared to the dancing and conversations that went on, in between the presentations.

more of tbilisi

more of my hometown. this is the area i went to school in. it is near downtown. the last building is opera house. we went to a performance few nights ago, instead of opera we got a lot of ethnic dancing and some opera. it was great. those are the streets keti (my best friend) and i wondered as we skipped school back in 1991. not much has changed, it all looks the same as we skip the conference and wonder the streets.

dancing

http://tvali.ge/index.php?action=watch&v=16708

watch this!!

it is really stupid that i can't figure out how to do this (if there is anyone out there that can help, it would much appreciated and needed :)) meanwhile please copy and paste the link. this happened in a russian restaurant, they got them to play traditional georgian music.

there is a lot of pride (vulnerability) in the air right now.

p.s. the guys are much better in this clip than girls, however don't think that is always the case!

reading

this is another long time friend. he has been a poet for a long time here in tbilisi. i went to a bookstore and the cashier was reading his book. it was nice. all of my friends from that circle are still writing and publishing sometimes (it's much easier here) and doing readings and experimental theater. i went to a reading where a german guy read a part of his story, it was about the caucasus. the german guy is doing his dissertation about georgian mythology and if the heros from them translate into the modern times in Georgia. i thought it was pretty cool. they asked me to translate some of the contemporary georgian poetry, i might. but somehow that seems intrusive right now. i like just reading it and returning to tbilisi and seeing the names of friends and classmates and acquaintances on the shelves of the local bookstores.

old tbilisi

this is where i would like to film the script that i have been writing for (?) years.
life here has not changed for long time. or at least it seems that way.

war

there has been so much suffering in georgia in the last few years. people here are amazing, because i still see them smiling and opening their doors to strangers and on the streets treating russian people with so much love. it is not people's fault, as my aunt told me. georgia use to be the country of so many ethnicities and religions. it is so sad to see a place like this to be torn by a political war. i grew up spending summers in abkhazia and in ossetia. The escalation of the conflict into normal georgian territory has brought countless harms to georgia's infrastructure, economy, and - most imoportantly - people. people have worked so hard to rebuild this place since the 1990s, this has put everything back by countless years.

dagny on a shelf

this is a photo i found on a shelf of my aunt's apartment. there must be so much of filling in the gaps, they know so little about all of us. they knew me when i was 15, the funny thing is i don't think we all really change that much. certain essence of who we are stays the same. when i am back i realize how not changed i am. i hope my daughter will have a desire to find her roots one day.

kindergarten friends

these are some of the girls i grew up with. they are so sweet and nice to me, it is hard to imagine i had ever left them.

a view so familiar

this is a view that is so familiar to me. it is taken from our apartment's balcony. the caucasus mountains surround the whole city. war or no war, they stand high. we live on the 5th floor. "mtkvari" river flows in front of the apartment building. the sound of traffic from outside makes me think of every single night falling asleep. these are the same sounds my grandma must have heard in the last few years, while i have been away.

On the way to Tbilisi!

Chicago airport - at first the hummus snacks and random conversationalists such as a strange icelandic man, two french guys in way too nice of clothes and nice minneapolis lady who would not shut up, was all endearing, but now i have been here too long.

contrast

rough and tumble of urban streets, overflowing daladalas, speeding fruit vendor bicyclists, sidewalk hawkers, paddle stoned arabic towns, masai selling jewelry and natural remedies, young suit wearing obama supporters, muslim children with kuran books under their arms and modern high rises. The culture and society here has so many layers, so much more complex than we often give it a credit for, by calling it a general term like "3rd world country"...

transportation

everything, EVERYTHING seems to evolve around transportation here.


watching fishermen return home on boobooboo beach, as the moon rose bright orange

getting from the mainland to zanzibar, during which most of those people threw up


be it walking to the water to do laundry, carrying goods to sell at the market, daladala ride (minivens, crowded to the point where you feel and breath every human being in that minivan which usually consists of many of those human beings), fishing on a tiny boat or taking a jet plain from Dar to Kiganza for which you just show up in the morning, because at times they cancel it and at other times they leave in the morning rather than afternoon and they are surprised how "uptight" we are in America. ... transportation is the pulse of Tanzania. the boats took my breath away.

T.I.A. - this is africa

laughing, hard working women are the backbone, yet marginalized in politics and education

this was at the wedding, where the bride looked really really sad and wouldn't talk. later it was explained to us that it would be very inconsiderate of her to act happy to be leaving her siblings and family. weddings are all day all night events, with much dancing and singing, even if brides are pretending to be sad.

my very first impression of tanzania was the ride from the airport to the hostel. everything seemed to move in slow motion. fabric fabric everywhere, yellow, green, purple, nothing matches, instead it's more like wild flowers in the field. every woman is wrapped in combinations of congas to cover lower body, the top, some hair, some to carry babies on the back, some to hold things on the head. where is all this fabric made anyway? we pass women moving, men standing in groups. seems to be the norm, women with loads of water, fruit, children, men standing, watching... children everywhere, on women's backs, in the dirt, on the roads. as we approach the actual city, it becomes faster paced just like any city. dar resembles american industrial city from the 70s. it is full of bodies, like no other city i have seen. the skin color is shades of brown and black, many women are fully covered in burkas, others covered except the face. endless pattern and color combinations drape everyone's bodies. dar is a bland of africa, arabia and india. indian women don't wear congas, their fabrics are thinner and airier, with less patterns, yet as colorful. the city is beautiful, not because it is pretty, because it is not, but because it is full of activity, bussle, full of chaos. the most fascinating part was to watch people transport things. huge, enormous size produces were carried on people's heads, bicycles, backs. one of my favorite times in dar is when we first got there. dagny and john passed out in our hostel "jumbo inn" (which by the way i totally recommend), i couldn't sleep. without knowing the city at all, i decided i needed the explore it alone, boldly, unknowingly. i began to walk and soon ended up in even busier part of the city. i walked fast passed the friendly: "jumbos", stares. i felt like i couldn't stop, i just had to keep walking. there are very few street signs in dar, so of course within 30 minutes i was lost. i kept walking without wanting to stop. as the minutes ticked away, i felt like i was breathing something that i had never breathed before, it was exciting and black and completely unknown. as i tried not to get hit by cars and dala-dalas coming from all directions with seemingly no sense, i walked and walked, trying hard to hide a huge grin on my face. i did eventually recognize the mosque that was near the hotel. it was difficult to miss it, muslim or not the prayer sang through the speakers five times a day lures you near.

the beginning of time

i lost my journal. it is crazy how violating that feels. nobody stole from me, i just lost it. i spend the first day in dar es salaam looking for a notebook. i feel like i need to rewrite, recreate at least some of the event from the journal. so, here it is day 1. the travel in general was long and semi stressful. we couldn't get on the flight from new york to cairo. the quite and empty area of that specific terminal literally turned into the most hectic, crazy, busy part of the airport. the seats were oversolled and there was much hussling, angriness and confusion going on. we pretty much stayed on the side, but as the result didn't get on. instead we decided to call every friend we had in new york and see who was around. dear amila was the first one. we walked through beautiful, hot (i didn't know really what was coming ahead) brooklyn, walking around the street, having delicious morroccan food with delicious morrocan server and taking zoy for a walk. in the morning we met up with another friend cara, who lives in east village and had breakfast together. it was lovely to catch up with both of those beuatiful ladies. john stayed stressed making many calls trying to figure out if we need to switch our connecting flights or if we could just go with things. it was a huge relieve when we found we got on the flight next day and it was first class. see, one should never complaint, but feel lucky when nice things happen to them...

dear diary, what is wrong with my family?

my father was in town, mr. zurab. as always he was here only for 48 hours and has created utmost chaos.

familiar story: few friends that got to spend some time with him thought he was absolutely fabulous. he is funny, he looks like mafia guy, he buys everyone countless shots, he has traveled around the world, he philosophizes about life... but also my mother and him can't be in the same room for longer than about 24 hours. my mother begins to nag, to bring up past, why he left her, she starts asking questions about his new wife, his travels... he in return wants her to leave him alone, life goes on as he says.

meanwhile each and every time i am about to have a nervous break down and even worse than that, i get really really sad.

you see when i left home at 15, my parents were happily married. in fact very happily married. i have amazing memories of my childhood. i remember countless parties at our house with many of their friends, mom and dad holding hands and exchanging what at that time seemed too many kisses and boob/ass grabbings, i remember bouquets of flowers and much laughter.

as an exchange student after 9 moths i was very happy to return back to all this. although united states was super interesting and different and amazingly plentiful, i was happy to return to my home, my friends, my city and my parents and rest of my family. well, of course everything went upside down. the soviet union broke up, the war broke out in georgia, my parents couldn't handle economic pressure of literally being left on the streets, so they got divorced. there was no country or no family to return to. to this day every time i leave even for short periods of time, i get so scared, like really scared and worried that i won't be able to return to things as i left them.

i love my dad so much. i can't think of another man in my life that i love as much i love him. i find him totally entertaining and wonderful, but i just don't know how to be around him anymore. i definitely don't know how to be around my divorced parents together.

at times like those, i wonder what if i never came to the u.s. on that stupid exchange program, what if we were still all together when the soviet collapsed and everyone was so freaked out, what if the soviet union stayed intact, how different everything would be.

i love my own family here, i love john and dagny and all my friends. in fact i love my life in salt lake, i really do. but i feel completely detached, de rooted from what is part of my soul.

confessions of a football player

he plays football, american football for university of utah. he is huge. he drives obnoxiously, unnecessarily huge truck. i see girls stare at random parts of his body as he walks into the diner, which he does pretty frequently. most of the time he sits at the counter. most of the time he is alone, other times he is in a group with similar type of dudes. when he sits at the counter, he likes to talk to me and i guess i don't mind talking to him. yesterday it went like this:
- do you like sports?
- yeah sometimes.
- what kind is your favorite?
- i don't like football, i am sorry... when i was little my granpa watched a lot of soccer so i like soccer because it makes me think of him and home in general, i like basketball games too, they are fun to watch and baseball is cool because you can just have hot dogs and beer and watch the sunset.
- (with total excitement) i love soccer!
- really? soccer?
- yeah, i think soccer is so much more fun than football. i can't really usually tell anyone this but i think soccer is awesome. i think its my favorite sport. i don't really like the football fans and cheerleaders and all that shit.
- i agree, soccer is so much better. its kind of funny that you like soccer, don't you think? so, why do you play football?
- i guess i am built for it. have you been watching the euro games going on? Spain was winning...
- yeah, little. here, i think your eggs and toast are up...

later that evening i went to a soccer game with tinisha. it was super fun. as i watched the game, i thought of my grandpa vano yelling 'goooooool' and eating a lot of watermelon and i thought about the regular at the diner and about how much more complex people are than the stereotypes that we form would have us believe...

a farm? a farm. a farm!

there is a millionaire that lives up above park city and he has a farm. it is not an ordinary type of farm, it is a car and motorcycle farm. it is called ' a farm' i suppose to just be cute. he owns literally hundreds of cars and bikes from the 20s and 30s, sitting there among the beautiful uinta mountains. some of the machines are literally like pieces of art, the colors are of different era, but surprisingly resembling the future. as we rode our motorcycles through the property, it felt surreal, like a movie set. i found this rooster in the abandoned kitchen in one of the barns.

all hikes should end at a bar

while at torrey, three of us decided to go on a long hike. it was a hike i remember doing with dags and john years ago. both sofe and coley tried to convince me to go on a shorter one, put i was persistent. i remember the narrow red rock that surrounded the most of the walk, the waterfalls, walking in the water on the shiny, poky rocks...

the first 5 hours of the hike we were doing fine, we had enough water, none of us were too tiered yet. in fact we found a skeleton of an elk. the whole thing was still there, it was pretty cool. we saw cougar prints and beautiful flowers. as another hour or so passed and we couldn't see the end of the hike (visitor center), we began to panic a little. it was mostly sofe. she made us get off the hiking trail and we started to head up toward the top of the mountain, very tall mountain, so we could see over and see a road perhaps... after another long hour or so, we found a road that was a dirt road but there were some car tracks on it. as we followed the road in the direction that seemed to make most sense at the moment, but for no particular reason, we walked and walked and walked and ended up at the entrance... to the patio, the only local bar in torrey. not only we didn't anticipate that at all, we thought we were hiking totally different direction. when we walked into the bar, we must have looked pretty bad, because when we asked the bartender if someone could give us a ride to our car, which was back in the park, he said, absolutely no problem but sit and have some water and beer first. which we did. we had one and two and three, happily. we stayed long enough to make friends, i think there was tim who likes to play music, lorain who collects rocks and rollerblades, mr.x who wore his shirt open really low and kept asking us if needed a ride, kile from loa who was really proud of it and said small towns in utah are like mafia families, it is all about which family one comes from, and there was doug who i knew from long ago and who bought us many beers.

although lost for a while, this hike had the best outcome and the best destination ever.

some heels for camping?

i love outdoors and i love new york city. i love the trash, sirens and dust of the busy streets and i love the serenity, eerie quietness and calmness of remote spots. i love pure beauty of both of them. i feel lucky that i have lived in utah and have had this amazing opportunity to experience the desert, red rock and surreal beauty of lake of salt. there is a chance i would never know this place if it was not for the randomness of me coming to utah and still living here now.

in fact one of my favorite places in the whole wide world is a little town called torrey. torrey is in southern utah, right at the entrance to capital reef. there is something about this place that connects to me in such a deep and at the same casual way, as though we have known each other for a long, long time, known each other well, if you can know a town that way.

johnny and i go to torrey often. this time i went to torrey with some of my favorite girls: sofe and colley.

our adventure started at... target. sofe forgot her swimming suit so why not do some shopping? i am not sure what town we were in, but we saw a polygomist family in the parking lot. i have such an interest in that whole culture, subculture i guess. but that's another story.

eclectic, accumulating, post-modern and sad

i got woken up by my hone buzzing at 7:00 am, never a good sign. the cook from the diner said there was no opener at the diner. the first server was late, super late. tomas said he can give customers coffee and maybe they'll wait? from that moment on, the day at the diner was truly exhausting, like it in the way that only happens once in while. even the best employees seemed to have gotten up on a wrong foot. by the end of the day and many breakfasts and lunches served, i needed a drink.

the wedding in the afternoon. john is in canada, but i didn't want to miss it. it was elise and travis. and unlike many other people, i actually find weddings kind of interesting. i had two dates. one of my dates scotty LOVES weddings and funerals, as soon as he heard i was going to one, he asked if he could join. my second date was duncan. duncan's dad Utah Phillips, amazing, very respectable, beautiful american folk singer, had just passed away a week ago. i know it has been a crazy time for duncan and we haven't talked since he came back from california, his father's funeral. so much of duncan's life seemed to evolve around going on the road with his dead, help with benefit shows, etc. i figured the wedding might cheer him up and it might be a light place for us to catch up.

before we left for the wedding, we set at my house and drank whiskey. duncan brought me three books from his father's private library. they were about writing systems and one on prague. it was really sweat of duncan. this morning dagny left for virginia, it is strange not to have her at home. it was so nice to hang out with the boys that we showed up at the wedding as the bride was about to enter the back yard, we were right behind her. farley was taking random shots of random people doing the social wedding things, like eating cake, having drinks, laughing and playing with someone else's kids. duncan was in a dark mood. he talked about the funeral, hundreds of people that showed up at the funeral. utah phillips was history, his music, what he stood for and the type of affect he had on his family. he definitely had a strong impact on duncan, this evening it was all coming to surface. scott walked around the wedding consuming drinks and food and saying some of the most bizarre comments i had ever heard.

progressively we got more and more drunk. everyone kept asking where john was, i explained over and over again. salt lake is so small, so protective... we decided to get away and went to .... strip clubs. night continued to get weirder, but super fun. first club was foxy and fancy, the second one was simple and working class with florescent lights. duncan felt comfortable here. scotty felt comfortable in the first one. i felt comfortable... in both.

night ended with duncan having to leave abruptly because he was having a difficult time, scotty and i staying very calm and enjoying ourselves. later we met up with lisa, scotty's girlfriend, who had a really bad day at work. it reminded me about my crazy morning at the diner. lisa said she was ready to give up on her business, beehive tea room. i would probably feel the same, if there was no john and i was doing it alone.

the worst thing that happened today and the most important one is that bob from the diner passed away today. in the middle of the business, we got a strange phone call with the information. really? bob who was so looking forward to going back to alaska, who set at the counter every single day, drank coffee and talked to every single one of us. bob was probably the most simple, nice and polite man that i had ever known. i have no idea how to deal with his death. in fact i have no idea how to deal with anyone's death. it is THE most difficult and confusing topic for me.

i wish i could have gone to tbilisi to see my grandmother before she died. goodbye bob.

jean-luc godard

i interviewed richard brody from the new yorker magazine, who just finished a biography of jean luc godard. most of the time i was just jealous that he had met a person who made a film that i feel like has changed my life, 'breathless'. i know that sound totally cheesy but it is the truth.

although a simple procedure, i am having super hard time creating a link, here is an address you can paste if you want to hear the interview.
http://stream.publicbroadcasting.net/production/mp3/krcl/local-krcl-715342.mp3

you need something?

i lost my check from the university of utah. i went to the payroll services website and it told me that i had to go in person to sign something. when i got there, the day was hot. i rode my scooter, the song that was playing on my ipod as i rode my bike was perfect. i followed the instructions and went exactly where i was told to, to get a new check. the receptionist was on the phone. she pointed her finger in the air, signaling me to wait, wait silently. i did. her conversation of personal nature continued for a while, but i found it amusing, so i waited. finally when she got off the phone, without saying a word she held her finger up in the same manner as previously, again. she walked to her purse and got a bottled water, she unscrewed the top very slowly and took three long sips of water. next she got a make up kit, one of those shadow boxes out, opened it and began to apply make up, looking into a little mirror in the box. i began to open my mouth to ask her a question and her finger went back up into the air, again without uttering a word. when she finished applying her make up and put everything away into her purse, in very slow steps she approached the counter that separated us. she looked at me in that expression that usually means: " yea, you need something?" i told her my name and where i worked and that i was a student and an employee and that i had lost my check and needed it replaced. without looking away from me she said: "what do you mean?" so i repeated everything that i said before. the whole time i was talking, she had her eyebrows expressing the look of utter confusion, like i just fell off another planet. i remember in my head wondering, if i had accidently been talking in georgian. after what seemed like a long explanation on my part, she just said: "did you loose a check?" i wanted to yell, yes, that's what i have been trying to fucking tell you. i can't be the only fucking person employed by the entire university of utah that has ever lost a check. instead i just said: "yes", signed the paper and ran far, far away.

42 years around the sun - for john

it is amazing how one day can go from absolutely shitty to absolutely beautiful. johnny turned 42. i love surprises, in fact i love anything that is spontaneous with as little planning as possible. i had 42 clues and little presents planned for john to lavish in his bday: massage, beer with friends, sushi, dinner with family, afternoon tea, movie, etc... however perhaps i was trying to plan a perfect toma birthday, because john hates surprises and has a really hard time with things that he doesn't know about. his phone kept ringing and he had to do bunch of stuff for work, diner, etc. in the morning dagny was totally rude to me and i couldn't stop crying for an hour after i dropped her off at school. but as the day progressed and i managed to get john more and more relaxed and dagny got out of school and acted like nothing was wrong, evening somehow turned into a total magical time. farley, lois and lisa dropped off beautiful flower and rum, beautiful rum. roy and anne brought by books, great books. my mom came back from her travels in canada and brought gifts and stories, murry joined us as we set into the late hours at the bakery drinking coffee and listening and laughing and talking. dagny sowed bunch of materials together and wrote a poem for john. the poem said how much she loved him and how hard it was for her to express it sometimes. could this be the same person that told me to fuck off earlier in the day? coffee was sweet, the night felt warm to my skin.

two great photographic events yesterday and today and no photos. boo... went to a wedding reception for matt and april yesterday. it was funny, because it was all the people that hang out at trolley cart bar, but everyone was dressed up. it is funny to see the same people in different contexts, it is kind of endearing.

tonight was saturday's vooyer 30th party! salt lake acting company is such a great theater company and i think they truly do a great job. i love the theater world, even though i was never the drama girl, i feel really attracted to that whole world. i wonder what it would be like to direct a play vs. films? finley, mary, sofe, colley, eligio came up and worked the party with us. they are awesome!

while we were finishing up serving meatloaf and fancy cocktails, dagny called and wanted to go to some party and her friends' mom was going to pick her up. i finally got the friend's moms number and when i called the mom sounded little too young for me. right away i turned into a suspicious mom and went to check out this party. dagny wasn't there yet, she said she was waiting for irie to finish up her side work at jumba juice. again, being suspicious i rode over there. i saw dagny sitting in the corner waiting for her friend to do her side work. i ended up waiting for her. by the time irie finished it was 11pm, dagny didn't want to go to the party anymore. sometimes i imagine the worst case scenario, i really need to be more trustworthy. but then again, i am a parent and can't help it.

a new place for old things

this is a purse that i got from my lovely friend colley today for my birthday. although it has been almost two months since my birthday, i kind of like that we never got around it, till now. if colley wasn't so against such things as TVs and computers, she would know that i liked my yellow new purse so much that i even took a picture of it!