This is how you get a bed...

first... you fuel up. protein! and veggies!

then you haul out the bed/futon you are replacing, and meet with a guy from craigslist on the curb...

and try desperately to tan your blindingly white legs...

without burning your eyeballs out. 

then you get sidetracked by a used bike sale at the Hub and test ride bikes in the parking lot...

and strike sexy sexy poses on said bikes...

then you purchase a bike and cram it into the back of a Subaru. 

Whilst driving to drop off your new bike, you then get sidetracked by a quality tattoo/piercing shop and decide to get your septum pierced, 

and while you wait, you make crazy monkey faces with the crazy wall monkey. 

then you sit still and let the artist do his work.

very still. 

once you have exchanged money for mattresses from another craigslist consumer, you strap it down to the top of your Subaru and drive very carefully, and very slowly. 

once you reach home, you enjoy the fruits of your labor! 

Blogger malfunction...

So, I totally wrote a post last night, saved and published it, then went about my merry way...only to check it this morning and find it's not there. Ummmm, k? Was I dreaming it? I am so confused. This is why I should really be posting from a computer and not a smartphone with limited internet access. Oh well. Basically, I was just talking about the fact that today, I am selling my futon. And I feel like I'm officially a grownup because I'll be sleeping on a real bed. No more college-esque "hey, wanna come over to my place? I gotta futon..." Nope. A real bed. Mattress, boxspring, frame(which I may or may not use). I'm actually excited about it, that bed is really comfortable. Goodbye back and neck pain. 

Now to just get these items out and in through my very tiny doorway...

Sunrise world...

There's this different world that exists at sunrise. A silence to the air that is broken by summer birds and the bugs that haven't yet figured it's daylight yet. The street lights also have not been informed and they glow against the dawning sun that sits behind pink and purple clouded skyline. The air is yet chilled, thick and heavy as the Midwest summer air often is, not yet warmed by the overhead rays. My shirt, with its arm holes cut down to my waist, let in the quickening breeze that licks around my exposed sides the faster I pedal my bike down the trail. My body warms with exertion, inner heat emanating from my center and gradually spreading to my extremities. The trail is quiet. Alone. The smell of bakeries on either side, just warming their ovens and taking out their first loaves, wafts down to my nose as I pass. The trail cafe is still closed for another few hours. Down, down to the falls. I pedal faster, push harder, speeding down the road with a different kind of energy. The energy of a full night's rest, legs not wearied yet from working all day. Fresh and blood pumping new, I feel the optimism of new day fill my lungs. I could get used to morning rides and day shifts. I could do this every morning. If I wanted to. Up at 5 and on the road, then back to a shower, quick bite to eat and off to work. Yes, I could do this. Enough of the exhaustion of night shifts that leaves me slave to all-day naps and solitary nights. This. This is what I need. This is up and awake and being alive with the rest of the world, this is communion with the living, this is flowing with the natural cycle of the day instead of fighting against it. This. I want this. I am reminded of a sensation I have not felt since the days of working on the farm. This sense of rightness and congruence with the earth. As day rises, so do we, shaking off hibernation of night to stretch limbs and joints into morning rituals. We wake. The earth wakes. We begin our day's work, rejoicing in the newness, the clean and fresh and reborn day. I remember on the farm, those mornings before the sun made the air hot. The beautiful chill, the dew that collects on your ankles as you walk through the grass and take a seat among the rows of your impending labor. And it is good. It is a good labor and one you are proud and willing to do. It is working with your hands until they are darkened by dirt and soil, black that settles into the cracks and seems to never fully wash out. It's a joyous responsibility to tend the ground, to nurse it, to coax life from it, to revel in the yield. Memories of this good work fill my mind, thoughts that have not been there for years are now brought forward as I work my muscles now on the early morning trail. Traces of many different flowers and plants from nearby gardens mix together with the smell of sprinkler-wet black top and fresh-cut grass. This. Yes. This.

the blog wherein Beckett dumps a lot of photos on your face...

to start our gluten free cooking/baking day, we headed for Seward Co-op for ingredients. We are obviously very excited

Of course, we got a lot of Gin Gins to keep us awake (I had been up since 5 in the morning, biking, working out, working, then called out to Wisconsin and back for a work stat. I needed a pick up) and now Jolene is addicted to them too. 

I scooped out zucchini 

and we mixed up quinoa, white beans, finely ground almonds and two cloves garlic, grape tomatoes, olive oil, and Parmesan 

I began prepping the lamb burgers, pre-mixed with feta, garlic, and red onions

then pan seared them in olive oil

meanwhile, Jolene mixed ingredients for the chickpea chocolate cake (chickpeas, eggs, baking soda, organic sugar, melted semi-sweet chocolate chips)

once the burgers were done, we covered them in the quinoa stuffing

still mixing

more mixing

while she was mixing, I put the remaining stuffing in the zucchini and baked them, 20 minutes wrapped in tin foil, then another 5-10 minutes uncovered, drizzled in olive oil and Parmesan for the last 5. 

(also, holy wow you can tell I need a haircut. that's next week)

sooooo gooooood! 

and then I fell asleep on the couch with Buddy on my lap before the cake was finished. No cake for me :( 

(but I had to go back to work in a few hours, so I needed the nap)

June 6 is (international?) Donut Day!! So I went to Gigi's and bought their last donut. Not greasy, just very light, mildly sugared and delightful 

the folks in the kitchen have claimed that I am officially awesome because of this customized burger that I ordered. Spinach and walnut, avocado and bacon, herb aioli. 

Also, all the workers had a good laugh when I told them that I used to go by the name Becky. They all pretty much yelled at the same time "NOOOO!!!! God no!" 

My feelings exactly whenever I hear it these days. 

There are just those days...

...when the best we can do is make it through with the knowledge that a brighter day will follow, that the sun will rise, that things will look better in the morning.

We got 4 stat calls today aside from my regular 2 hour route. The last one came half an hour after I had finally gone to sleep. My mindset of late has been a sincere effort to "be in love with everything." It helps the way I view things in day to day life, but let me tell you, I was not in love with that hospital in coon rapids that was depriving me of sleep tonight. By the time I'd delivered the medicine and returned to work in St. Paul, I knew it was utterly pointless to drive home and try to sleep for a few minutes before turning right back around for my shift at midnight. I put my stuff away, clocked out, and found a dark corner under a desk in the front office area. The lights out, my on-call pharmacist doing the same thing and sleeping on the couch, I settled for the floor and hoped my back wouldn't feel too terrible in the morning. Hopefully, no more hospitals will call for stats, and I can get an hour of sleep in under the desk. Using the brown leather jacket (that you often wear more than I do) as a pillow, it's a small, comforting reminder of you, and I am compelled to leave a few words here for you to find tomorrow. I love you from the bottom of my heart, always. And though we may have had some rough days, each in our own corners of the world, we press on, and that love carries me forward through body aches, sleepiness nights, and lonely blog posts. You are the only way I can have any amount of success in my "love everything" goal. I just wish I could hold you tonight, if only for a minute.

June brings summer storms...

...and with it, a perhaps stormy attitude. As the thunder rattles the building, streaks of electric blue light flash outside against the muggy grey of afternoon sky. Rain hits the windows, normally a sound of comfort for me, but today I feel more trapped. I went to the farmers market this morning for an hour. Pickings were slim, and I felt the storm coming in. Time to go. Zach came over for an hour or so, and we sat catching up on the past 5 years since we'd seen each other last. I was struck by how much has happened. How much has changed. The many different lives I've led in such a small span of time. He as well. The storm continued after he left, and I spent the rest of the day truly at a loss for what do with myself. I yearned to go outside, to take my bike out, work and stretch muscles, pedal and pound out my stress, and sweat out all the annoying thoughts that flood my brain. Flood. I think of the steady downpour outside and begin to picture it coming through the windows, filling up our living room, surrounding and engulfing me as I sit in my arm chair. I try to collect some sense of peace, quite, stillness from the water that has now entirely filled our apartment, try revel in the tranquility of drowning. I can't. My mind is elsewhere and everywhere, and though I feel like I can't breathe, it's not a peace but a panic. I don't do well when I'm bored. It only aggravates and frustrates me. Rick and Jolene come over at night. We make a huge batch of curry and fill ourselves to satisfaction. Our conversation is good and goes on well into the night. But, eventually, they must go, and I am left again to deafening silence and solitary sleeplessness. I would take a sleeping pill, but on call starts in a few hours. I am realizing that I picked up too many extra shifts, and it is taking a toll on me physically and mentally. I want the sun to come back. I want to feel the air drift over my face as I cut through it on the trails. I want to feel my skin burn and turn to brown in summer rays. And I want to stay out and avoid coming home to an empty apartment.

I feel like maybe I'm being needy and whiny right now. But maybe it's just the weather.

Uptown Kinda Night...

The hum of the night, the hum of the cars,
As whirring and blurring and traffic lights change,
The pace of my feet keeping time, and forward, always forward,
Carry me through the lucid, night air.
Join us in Uptown, join the dance,
The whirring and stirring, the writhing, contorting mass
Of flesh and of fog, and cheap alcohol special,
Drenched in sweat and whiskey soaked enthusiasm.
Outside for air are the words, the words of half-grown children,
Mix with the words of the ancient crowd, and the old men sing
Sad songs of girls or of boys they have loved in their youth.
Love past. Long past. Life passed.
The one-eyed wince of cigarette pulls,
Who needs to live forever when we can live it up tonight?
We throw our hands towards the starry sky,
We lords of the night, and romantics clinging to hour-long love affairs.
Hangovers.
Hospital beds. Receipts of the night's revelry
Are for those who will live tomorrow morning to pay the bill,
But they are not for us to worry tonight.
We fill our lungs a little deeper, open chests a little wider,
The more our ribs to push.
Pupils dilate against nightlight backdrop and the twinkle of the teardrop strings
Prevail now over daylight.
Join us in Uptown.
You're in Uptown, baby. Uptown, downtown,
You're a jazz town, a snap town,
The rasp of the vowel when you say the word,
Jazz.
Jazz and the snap of a snare plays on behind sweat sticky brick walls
And thunder drum rolls. Uptown.
She's the gentle Jezebel we take to our beds for the night and
Throw our stones at come sunrise. We dance and whisper in her ear,
"Hate me in the morning, only tell me you love me tonight."
It's a town I could love if this weren't already lust.
America, the beautiful bastard, is a gluttonous youth,
A horse straining against our parental starting gates,
But, oh, doesn't she know how to party?
You'll know her when you see her. You'll feel it in your feet.
Look to the ground and see it on the dance floor,
And you'll know, you're in Uptown, baby.
You live in Uptown now, baby.