urbanite

it's so strange that i'm an urbanite now. and i really am. i'm a creature of convenience. I'm a cookie cutter city dweller. with spikey hair and tats and piercings .and lots of black in my closet. i take the bus everywhere. I talk about myself way too much. i analyze myself and all my friends. we're all neurotic and way too conscious of motivations for everything. i've seen a nice list of indie films and read all the good books. i go to the store at 1am for little nothings, because i'm used to having anything i want easily attained at any hour i wish. i never shop for more than fits in one bag at a time, because who needs a large grocery trip all at once when i can just go the next night and the next night. I hang out in bars and drink micro-brew beers. i know my tequila. i've eaten at at least 3 of the top restaurants in the city. i've never been to the opera or a ballet but i want to. i belong to a gym that i never go to. i've been to yoga classes and samba classes. i pay a disgusting price for my hair cuts. my hair is never the same color. i own three computers (only using one). i have an ipod and two tv's and a cool victorian-style house. i throw parties and go out dancing as often as possible. i need people around me or i feel isolated and alone.

for years , while trying to decide where i would live as an adult, i had san francisco crossed off my list. it was too small yet so big. the buildings crammed together. the people in throngs. it made me claustrophobic. i always got lost. it scared me. now i've lived here longer than anywhere else post-vermont. i thought i'd live in the country again, somewhere close to a city but far enough away that i didn't feel its magnetic pull.

as a child i never lived closer than 10 miles from town. i talked to myself and climbed trees and had not just one or two invisible friends but a whole god damn troupe of invisible animal friends. a chipmunk on my shoulder and a big panther by my side. hell, if you were an only child living in the boonies...you might talk to invisible critters and make a real live turtle your best friend too.

i wandered in the forest alone. i went hiking with my parents. i had ballet classes and a pond near my house that i learned to swim in.

one of the things i miss the most about country living, aside from my ability to be alone...

horses.

after i quit that 4-h group and refused to give them my free shit-shoveling child labor anymore... i had a pony most of my childhood. his name was Bear. I woke up one christmas and under the tree there was an apple with a note attached "take me to the shed"

i went to the shed and there was a shaggy shetland with a red bow tied around his neck.

now , this sounds damn adorable, i know. hell, a lot of my childhood sounds fuckin adorable.

but this animal was an evil beast. he kicked my best friend in the stomach, continually took on horses three times his size and repeatedly tried to remove my fingers.

when i was older and we'd moved to the Salinas Valley in california... right around the time of my infamous rooster story. i graduated to a real horse. (you may wonder what happened to Bear. my dad sold him for $40 and bought me a bike)

Sadie and i went through our trials. id' put her saddle on and she'd puff out her belly. (this is normal horse trickery) and if i forgot to give her a gentle knee to the belly while tightening her cinch, i'd end up with the saddle sliding around to her belly mid ride. she pretended to be afraid of cows and would take off in a mad dash, with me bouncing around on top.

finally, she figured i was around for good, we got rid of the saddle and bridle and i'd just get up on her bare back with a lead rope and we'd traipse the countryside.

between the age of 11 and 15, there weren't many days that we didnt' go out for a ride. there's a certain freedom to being alone on a trail with a horse.

i always thought i'd end up in the country with horses again.

and here i am, thinking about going to macys to buy my fancy soap. wondering about my next party. thinking about taking scuba lessons. thinking about dry warm summers spent in the crook of a tree with an assorted menagerie of invisible critters.

admission: sometimes i still talk to things that aren't there . fuck you, i'm not crazy.

p.s. cussing is fun. embrace your inner potty mouth

p.p.s. i reiterate: Slaid Cleeves 'Broke Down' is a most awesome album

p.p.p.s The Police totally rule. today is all about rediscovering the police. i was mildly obsessed (through my first love) with the police when i was a teen. they rule.

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