and I’ve always greatly admired your nose.

being your sister=very very lucky, indeed.

And you’re standing there in the dark, clutching a fist full of rocks you’ve scooped from underneath your feet; you’re not wanting to get close enough to whatever it is that’s terrifying you to actually throw them, but at least you’re armed now, and if not dangerous, well–you’re no longer just an innocuous girl. You’re not waiting to be a victim, legs and arms exposed because you were running and wearing shorts and a tank top and you never did expect to be so scared and vulnerable.

Not tonight, anyway.

But then your brother laughs just a little. “It’s just the sprinklers going off!” he says. And you laugh at yourself too and you let go of those rocks and they hit the ground with a thud, respectively, until you’re no longer feeling so weighed down by the weapons you clutched while you were fearing the worst.

Sprinklers, that’s what they were.

And now when you pass those sprinklers, you laugh a little inside your head. And you remember that what you feared so badly was something that couldn’t hurt you, after all.

So you don’t need to walk around with rocks in your hand; you don’t need to run away so fast; you don’t need to fear that every sound you hear is the worst.

Because sometimes the monsters you fear really are just sprinklers.

• Today my sister and I saw a cute young Amish man. I write this down because this has never happened before. I am sure they exist–and I am now positive that they exist–but I had just never before actually witnessed it. We were leaving Giant and he was just walking in and Jenna and I were both like, Oh. And then we saw his horse and buggy tied at the sign that indicates if you have a horse and buggy, tie it up here! but it says it with a picture because, in this case at least, I guess a picture is worth a thousand words about horse and buggies. And I joked with Jenna about leaving my phone number on the seat of his buggy. This is funny because he has no phone, you know. Well unless it is in his barn for business purposes but a). calling me, one of the English (as the Amish call any of us who are not Amish), could hardly be considered a business venture. Now I don’t know why I put in an “a).” there because I just realized that I have no “b).” Oh well.

• I have started writing. Started writing? you might all be thinking. But yes, I am writing something of a project and right now it is going all over the place and I am not quite sure what it will be eventually, but it’s this nice little secret that keeps me smiling when otherwise, I’d just be standing in line, about to order a bagel or something. Though the anticipation of a bagel would probably make me smile too. But now I have all these words saved and it’s a work in progress and I can order a bagel, so double whammy reason to smile. This, despite my invisalign, because sometimes that makes me not want to smile.

• My date with Ollie, which I talked about last night, was quite a delight. We had a great conversation throughout the night, some of which was on a more personal level. Which is why when Jase asked Ollie what we talked about last night, he simply answered, “Actually, Daddy–it was a private conversation.”Oh hahaha. Love that kid. Loyal to the max.

• This morning I had a few bites of some of my favorite cereal, only to look down and see a dead moth floating around in the milk. That was quite a bummer; no way around it. I dumped the whole bowl and had to start from scratch again. But you better believe that I thoroughly checked every spoonful before it went down the hatch.

• I need to get some sort of job before too long now. There are a lot of things I do, and some that even bring in some revenue, but I think I need to werrrrq, as some of my dear tour friends would say. So I am wondering what that shall be. I am actually not worried about it right now. Just sort of anticipating an open door and thinking huh. I hope I like it.

• And last but not least, never least!, have you noticed the moon lately? It’s hanging quite low. I think it must be lonely, cause it seems to want to be a part of things down here on earth. And I don’t mind at all. The moon has always been a friend and a comfort in my life. I’d love to have a party that the moon attends; but perhaps that sort of happens every night anyway.

Okay, so that’s not like the most fun thing, but bear with me.

Because see, since they have no pockets, that means that I hand my camera over to other people  to store in their pockets for the day.

Thank God not all of us are in the habit of wearing leggings. Although, Jase did admit today that they do look quite comfortable.

But by the end of the day, I find pictures that I didn’t even know were taken.

Like this one, compliments of my sister Jenna.
And there are so many things that I love about this picture. Our shadows stretching out long behind us, mingling with each other. The light spilling out over the mountain, like the sky alone can no longer contain its rays so the mountain steps in to bear some of the grand burden of light.

And the sense of togetherness, too. How we’re all walking in the same direction, resolutely, almost.

It makes me think of another picture. One that was taken about six months ago, out here in California, too.

And I love this picture so much.

But it’s interesting. Ollie’s little hand in mine felt like a role reversal. Usually it’s the adult bringing comfort to the kid, right? But at that time in my life, he was comforting me; he didn’t know it, but he was helping to fight what came over me so easily then: a feeling of aloneness.

And that other picture has a greater feeling of being surrounded. Again, of togetherness. Which is about right, presently.

And these days when people ask me how I am, there’s one word that comes to mind: grateful. And yes, I’m so much more; life is usually evoking more from me than one word affords.  But still, when I was showering tonight, washing out the Pacific Ocean from my hair, I couldn’t help but remember how good life is and how it comes and goes, like the waves that beat upon the shore, taking and giving but always remaining mysterious and awesome and interesting and full of magic and when the waters recede, I think I’m still here; when the waters recede, I know I’m still here.

And I’m grateful.

You know, in the mountains.

And I passed that sign again–the one about the mountain lions that hunt in the area. Okay, so it didn’t say hunt, but that was the point. And then I read that you shouldn’t hike alone and I thought, Ohhhhh shoot. Cause I was totally alone.

And then I abruptly turned around and headed back to my family’s house. Where there aren’t mountain lions and where I am not alone. But I didn’t get there before every little squirrel that happened by scared me, cause I was sure that it was something not nearly so innocuous.

I usually pride myself on not feeling very afraid of nature, but it seems you hear enough about the folk singer getting eaten by coyotes in Canada and the little twin babies getting mauled by a fox in Britain and the lady getting struck by lightening and killed in North Carolina, and suddenly my imagination goes a little wild when I’m by myself and outside.

Not head dance wild, but wild, nonetheless.

Anyway.

Today was the kind of day that is gonna make me sleep and sleep right well tonight.

We went to the beach and the weather! oh, it was divine. The sun was not shy at all and there was a slight breeze and enough warm sand to keep you from being cold. Especially when a small boy accidentally dumps a whole shovel-full of sand right on your head. Just like you are simply the beach and a little bit more sand moved around when there’s already tons there is no big deal. But instead you are a person and now your scalp is covered in enough sand to make you wonder if you should perhaps suggest that some people park their umbrella right here, right on your noggin, should the beach get too crowded.

But really, it was just funny. And gave me even more incentive to get in that water. Which I did, along with my boogie-boarding peers, Jase and Lyric.

And man, was it fun.

And man, does a wetsuit really make a difference in terms of actually being able to stay and enjoy the ocean cause look! my teeth aren’t chattering and oh! I can feel my legs and haven’t yet lost a toe from frostbite.

We caught some glorious waves and were not caught by any glorious sharks, so win win.

For us, though. Probably not the sharks.

And then we went riding around on bikes, which was, in plain old English, a blast.

Except for the part when a lot of people around here see the words BIKE PATH and, though they have no bike at all, proceed to stroll on it. Luckily Jenna was with us and she has no problem at all with reminding them of the meaning of those two words; that there’s a lot of beach all around that is perfectly useful for walking on, whereas bikes really cannot ride on the sand, so please–MOVE.

But really, it was lovely.

And you’re probably thinking, whoa! that sounds like an amazing day. The only thing that could make it any better is a monkey…

And you’re right.

Which is why, upon my brother’s urging (and funding, I may add), I decided to shake a monkey’s hand on the Santa Monica Promenade. Again. I had already done this magical thing once before, but when it comes to shaking this monkey’s hand–once is never enough.

Trust me.

But don’t take my word for it–take a look for yourself.

monkey!

*and please pay no mind to the fact that I am dressed like a wannabe ninja, thankyouverymuch.

**and please DO pay mind to the fact that the monkey tips his hat after he shakes my hand. Adorable.

I know we’ve come a long way since the Wright brothers hung in the sky for a hot second and wowed the world, as they should, but man, either my legs are too long or budget cuts have resulted in not only five or six pretzels thrown your way during a flight across the country, but also enough space to keep a small seven year old quite comfortable. Not full, mind you, considering the rationing of food, but at least comfortable.

But right, I know. My legs are too long. I’ll work on that. That’s on my list of things to do and I think it’s number three, right after telling the world My Life Plan, down to the minute, as well as reliving the past six months cause that was fun.

But the funnny thing about that tiny bag of pretzels is the amount of joy it brings me. And when somebody nearby declines it? It’s like alarm bells go off in my head, something to signal that Something’s Terribly Wrong cause why would anyone turn down a bag of five miniature pretzels? When they are free (sort of)! And dinner!

In fact, my sister only ate half her bag, meaning there were roughly two and a half still in there. And when she said I could eat them, I was excited about it. Embarrassingly so.

And I also think it’s interesting being stuck together with a bunch of people for a pretty long time. You wouldn’t turn to fifty or so strangers and invite them on a road trip to Nova Scotia (can you even road trip to there? I don’t know), but that’s what we do when we fly. Except for the whole ending up in Nova Scotia part. Unless you’re flying there, which I’m not. But maybe I will. Unless it’s the kind of place that you can road trip to–then, I should probably do that. With fifty or so strangers. All of whom have legs that are too long and live off of tiny bags of even tinier pretzels and pretend that they’re free even though we just paid out the nose for the seat that doesn’t have enough leg room. But, I digress.

And today the guy across from our aisle pointedly looked at me and mouthed a word. I get nervous when people do this because I suspect I am not the best lip reader around and sometimes the ones doing the…what’s it called? lip speaking? Hmmm. Well, you know–when they mouth something to you, they get frustrated and impatient and start to act like they unfortunately chose the one idiot in their nearby vicinity to communicate with when you just can’t understand what they’re saying. But you’re trying, goodness knows, you’re trying with all your powers of comprehension.

Anyway.

This time I got it on his second try. “Pen,” he said, with an accompanying and handy flourish of his wrist that was hovering over imaginary paper. So I told him I’d look and then proceeded to not find one, which was disappointing because honestly? I really like to help people, even just by giving them a pen. It makes me happy to supply a need and maybe that is why I can sometimes stick around longer than I should because I believe that somebody needs me. But then I realize that you can be used dreadfully and hey, you should probably keep your own pen from now on, at least when it comes to some and at least when you’re not really talking about pens anymore.

So my sister Jenna then looks for something, finds a pencil, and hands it to him. He tells her thank you and then cranes his neck to thank me. Which was strange, since I didn’t actually do anything, but oh well. There are worse things than being thanked superfluously.

But then when he gave the pencil back to Jenna, he said thank you again. Jenna said you’re welcome and then he kept thanking her. She was like, “Yeah. You’re welcome.” At which point he was like, “No. I’m TRYING to thank her!” And motioned to me. Which is when I put his profuse gratitude to rest by saying you’re welcome. And then Jenna mentioned to me that he was really weird, that she was the one who was actually helping him, and that I had really done nothing. Good points, all of them. And then we laughed.

And now we’re all in Alanta, waiting to fly again and this time end up in Los Angeles and who knows what will happen between now and then? Something interesting, at the very least, because say what you want about life, but it is always interesting, I think.

Which means that Shane is playing the guitar and I am blogging. But I was just singing, promise.

And we’re recording Shane’s very favorite song that he’s written, so basically it’s his baby. And I can see why–I love it too.

And he also just told me that “this ain’t no R&B show,” because I suppose one could accuse me of being too fancy with the vocals from time to time. Ahem. To which I have a couple different replies.

a). But isn’t everything?!
b). But I thought you said we could use autotune. On everything. Like Cher in I Believe, cause that changed all of our lives, starting with my sister Jenna’s life. And finally,
c). Of course. You want simple; I can do simple.

Which is what I actually said.
And what I actually did.
And truthfully, I’m excited about this song. It’s quite pretty and close. Intimate, I mean. And the words, they’re the kind that can live without a melody but in this case, the melody is perfect.

And what else?
Well it’s June now. The sweet smell of honeysuckle keeps reminding me of this and I love its persistent nature. Summertime feels here because I keep finding myself with corn on the cob and the grills seem to be working overtime right about now. I bought a little boys t-shirt that’s just the right shade of green; I told my friend this and she started her sentence with, “it’s so nice when you can buy little boy’s shirts because you have a…” so I finished her sentence with “…a little boy’s build!” We laughed. Then she said she was gonna say a versatile size. I guess that works too.

But yes, it feels like summer and I’ll roll down my windows and drive by this landscape that is both home and mesmerizing and try not to miss a thing.

I mean rolling-out-dough-at-3:30-in-the-morning ridiculous.

And as if that isn’t ridiculous enough, please bear in mind that I was rolling out dough with some sort of tool that, as far as I can guess, is used to crush pills. The word that comes to mind is pestle but I could be making that up because after all, I am ridiculous.

And I know this kind of behavior is not considered normal. But neither is feeling very irritated by air conditioning, I imagine.

Yes, air conditioning.

It irritates me.

It seems that right when the days are rather perfect, with the breeze cooling off the sun’s rays just enough to keep you outside and contentedly wearing dresses and shirts without those cumbersome sleeves, you go inside and bam! you are freezing.

Or rather, I am freezing. All because of air conditioning. And I realize it’s a double edged sword, that there are many hot summer days for which I am grateful to walk inside and be blasted with that cool air, but today is a different story.

Isn’t every day?

Which is why I interrupted my parents while they were watching the season finale of 24 to ask them if we could please turn off the air conditioning, for the sake of all that’s good in this world.

Or maybe just for the sake of me.

Which is not even close to all that’s good in this world, thank goodness for that. I mean, I’ll take a small part of it, but all is way more powerful than any one person, I think. It takes a whole lot of everybody and most of everything and then God, too, though he’s sort of above this world and all around it, too, to constitute all that’s good in the world.

And another thing about air conditioning: it confuses me. As in, should I dress for the weather outside or should I dress for the air conditioning inside? Or am I just condemned to always have to carry around a sweater with me wherever I go all summer long?

And I know, there are worse things, because remember? Divorced.

But ask me in August. I will probably be applauding whoever it was who invented the thing that is irritating me so much right now.

And do you know why else I am ridiculous?

I am now the proud owner of silly bandz (oh but that ‘z’ makes spellcheck all hot and bothered!). And I have three of them. And they are adorable. You didn’t ask, but I will tell you anyway: I have a black microphone, a blue elephant, and a yellow duck.

Perfect.

And thank you, Jenna.

So I suppose these are some of the things that make me ridiculous right now. The cinnamon roll making at 3:30 am. The irritation at air conditioning, something that most people in the world relish, with good reason. And the silly bandz.

Oh, and I forgot to mention the part about swimming in the ocean at around 2 am this morning. I suppose that ups the ridiculousness too.

It’s just that we were so close to the beach after Shane and I played a show at Greenwoodstock yesterday. So a group of us hopped on over to Cape Henlopen, because it’s good for the soul to be with the ocean. And we were cold in the water, but not nearly as cold as you’d think. And we had a dance-off too. I think we all decided that it was a seven-way tie, but still. Nobody danced anymore after I did my split, and that’s something that I didn’t mention aloud, but did notice.

And I guess if all of this is considered ridiculous, than I am okay with it.

Especially ones that are perfectly square, not necessarily rectangular. Though, I would never turn a rectangular card away. But there’s just something about the symmetry of a square that makes me happy.

And then when you add some good words on top of a square card?

Well, it’s real, REAL nice.

Like this one.

I saw it today and I had to read it again and again. And then, well, I already believed it, I think, but I started to believe it a little more.

And something else I like are photo shoots with my sister.

Her name is Jenna Veronica but at some point, my brother Jonathan and I gave her the nickname of Jarna Vern and it got enough of a reaction that it stuck. I guess after years of still being called that, Jenna has finally stopped fighting it and now she just goes with it.

And look at her with her yellow sun glasses.

In case you were wondering, I approve. Very much so.

And I think Jenna was maybe my biggest fan during A Chorus Line. Because that crazy girl saw the show at least five times. If that’s not love, I’m not sure what is.

And today we, along with some other members of our fantastic family, went to the beach.

And it was warm in the car and even on the boardwalk.

But not so much on the actual beach.

So we mostly lay like this,

talking about how it’d be nice if the wind would dial it down a bit.

And then we laughed, because how annoying to tell the wind to dial it down?

And we did a good job of pretending that we were warm enough.

But there’s a difference between being truly warm and being warm enough.

If you’d like to know the difference, just go on down to the Delaware beaches in the beginning of April.

But try to go with a few people you love, it’s better that way.

And try not to bite them.

But if you absolutely have to–and I understand if you do–try to bite in such a way that it doesn’t actually hurt.

Well, at least if you park your car in Fair Hill. Next time I go to MacDonald’s with a Marylander (and there are a few in my own family), thanks to Fair Hill, I think they should probably buy me something from the dollar menu. And maybe even a couple of things if they’ve been there more than once.

But yes, today I went to wander around by myself in Fair Hill. I almost didn’t, though. I almost went to the gym. But then I saw how the sun was shining in a glorious manner and, well, that it was being featured right now! and since you never know if that nice little off-broadway show I like to call The Sun is on a limited run or not, I decided to go see for myself what it was up to.

And anyway, buildings can be so predictable. So can running around in circles, for that matter. And since a friend of mine has recently–and so very kindly–suggested that I might be obsessed with my phone, I did something very gutsy.

I left it behind.

That’s right.

And I was all, who’s obsessed now? But it was a rhetorical question, which ended up being a very good thing since nobody was around to be like, not you!

I did, however, grab my camera (since nobody had mentioned me being obsessed with that) and one of the first things I had to capture was this sign.

What’s funny about me is that sometimes even my thoughts are sarcastic. I read the sign and I smiled a sad little smile as I pondered how amazing it would be if the sign said something about not putting yourself in a position to be lied to and wounded over and over again. And it was with some disappointment that I read something about locking your car and blah blah blah because getting your stereo stolen looks like a walk in the park right about now; I thought we were talking victims here, people.

But then I walked right past that sign and I let my thoughts compete with my legs for miles per hour. And I suppose I looked like this–

while I was walking around, and the reason you need to know that is, well, maybe you don’t. Need to know it, I mean. But I will still ask–do you see that warmest of wraps I am wearing? It’s something that was specifically made for wearing outside in rugged mountainous terrain. And wouldn’t you know it, but I am pretty much always cold in my parents’ house. That’s right. So dinner usually goes something like this:

Me: Mmmm, this food is really good, mom; and pop, can we throw some heat all up in here?
Mom: Thanks, Jess.
Jenna: It’s not cold.
Pop: Why don’t you go put your coat on, Jess?
Me: Because I’m going through a divorce, pop–so CAN THE HOUSE AT LEAST BE WARM????

Okay, so I’ve never said that last part. But haha, maybe I should.

And instead of manipulating my pop into turning up the heat with the ‘D’ word, I got that wonderfully fleecy thing, my Warm Snuggly, as I like to call it.  And now dinner goes something like this:

Me: I’m warm, I’m warm, I’m warm…

So yes, isn’t that good?

But I was walking, all warm in my Snuggly, and I was just thinking. It’s nice to not be so afraid of my thoughts anymore. I’m starting to trust them again; I let the leash go a little longer again, I guess.

But when I saw this tree, I thought me too.

And I wondered if the morning of his demise was just like any other. I wondered if he had any idea that by the end of the day he’d be chopped down to just a fragment of what he’d been, that his roots would be mostly pulled up and exposed for just about anyone to see. And sure, he was still among all his other tree friends, but he had changed so drastically that he wasn’t quite sure what to do at their parties anymore; wasn’t quite sure what to say when everybody else was talking about their beautiful leaves and how close they’re feeling to the sun these days.

And I thought about how just the other day I was having lunch with some nice new friends and we’re girls, you know–we talk about our men and how we met and wow, isn’t it so nice that everything worked out perfectly? And there they were, sharing their pretty stories and suddenly it was like I had amnesia. Only it was all wrong, opposite or something, because instead of trying to talk about it yet not being able to remember a thing, here I was remembering so much, but biting my tongue because relating my story of how we met doesn’t quite feel worth the breath it would take.

And still, I see things that make me pause. Things that speak of mystery. Things like a tree who looks like her nanny came and braided her pigtails during the night.

And well, life can’t be all bad if we’re talking trees with pigtails, right?

But it’s strange.

And if you’d like proof of this, then I only need to reach into my purse and pull out the kind of letter written to the man I married that a wife should never see. I have been carrying it around for these past few weeks, sort of by accident because I simply keep forgetting to get rid of it.

And no, it’s not from me.
And no, I won’t tell you how I got it.
And no, Jerry Springer still has not called. Fingers crossed.

And to make the matter even stranger, the other day I was driving with my friend when suddenly he was on the phone, needing to write down an address for a gig we were going to play. And so I reached into my purse, grabbed the folded up letter, and gave it to him to scrawl down the words 2nd and Front.

He handed it back to me like it was just an old piece of paper anyway, actually even better–an old piece of paper made useful cause now it told us where to go and play some music.

And I think that’s like redemption and I think I will make a habit of scrawling down better words in place of the ugly ones that have hurt me so much.

And then, something else: the water at Fair Hill.

It was like a kid who had just gotten out of class, it was running so much. And all of the little gurgling sounds it made was good news, indeed.

And if this isn’t a sign of spring nearing, I don’t know what is.Because all of the sudden I looked down on the path and saw these two perfectly good gloves tossed aside.

And I can just picture it. Someone, maybe Mother Nature herself, is walking there, still bundled up, still bracing herself for the cold and the wind and that chill that grabs at your fingers and toes, especially. And maybe she looks to the left just like I had done; maybe she notices those little daffodil shoots pretending to be nonchalant about nosing their way through the earth this March. As if they hadn’t been waiting all winter long.

Come on, daffodils, stop your fronting.

But then she feels the sun, and feels it stronger, even, than the cold. And so in one of those rare times when caution is better left to the faint of heart, she strips off her gloves and goes on her merry way, confident in the approach of Spring.

And confidence. There’s a word to challenge me. Cause it doesn’t change a thing about what’s happened, but it might just change everything about what will. And I think I’d like to take my gloves off, too.

Confidently.

I think I’d like to say that something warmer, something even filled with flowers is coming my way also.