Oh, You Pretty Things!
11 March 2009 at 4:52 pm

I'm not so big on the hippie scene here (or anywhere, for that matter), but there is something to be said for sitting next to a bonfire surrounded by dancers and drummers and full moons, and that something is this:

Kristie dates so I don't have to. In fact, she does pretty much all of my socializing for me. It saves me an incredible amount of time and exasperation.

She called to invite me out to dinner with her boy and her boy's friend (platonic on every possible level) at La Super Rica, which is a taqueria second only to Lily's in locals-only status (don't tell anyone I told you). I've never been there, but there's always a line out the door. I was on my way back from picking up some DVDs I'm transcribing to help pay for my trip to London and it was right on the way, but I was cashless and have a fridge full of farmer's market goodies that need to disappear before I jet off to DC.

I'd had Kristie over for dinner the night before and had made a huge endive fennel salad that survived our peckish habits, so I devoured that and got to work turning my linen closet into an office.

Kristie invited me to watch the sunset at Mesa lane, but I didn't get the text until the sky was just past lavender, so she suggested we all go somewhere to watch the stars. I wanted to finish the lighting in my new office, since I'd been thinking about starting the project for weeks and wanted to keep the ball rolling (lest it turn into the rest of my apartment, which is so full of half-finished projects I'm considering investing in Ritalin to help with my nesting ADD), so she and the boys cruised over for a beer while I hammered away.

Eventually, we packed up a bottle of wine, blankets, and sleeping bags, and headed out to the wild blue yonder to see about finding some stars. When we realized that the moon was going to overshadow (undershadow? overbrighten?) any decent stargazing, we decided to head to Knapp's Castle, where a drum circle takes place every full moon (I can't remember who told me about it, but it's one of those things you just sort of know after you've lived here for a bit). Kristie and I giggled about the last time we had driven up in the winding, spinning, twirling, swirling hills, the result of which was me dispelling the contents of my stomach out the window of a moving car, an event I have pledged to never repeat.

This is a more-the-merrier event, and though the moon was bright, it was still past 9pm and we were still in the hills, so I couldn't tell if I knew anyone. Darkness: the great equalizer. We drank the bottle of wine, passing it around like hippies or hobos or 20somethings who don't care that they know better, while Kristie immediately made friends with everyone, which is my least favorite thing to do.

Eventually, someone started a fire, and Kristie and I sat practically on top of it snuggled under a blanket while tens of people drummed incessantly around us. The energy from good drum circle is pretty incredible, even for an eyerolling cynic such as myself.

I thought we were getting home at 11:30pm, but it turns out Carlos forgot to spring his car's clock forward, so it was 12:30 when I turned on The Sword and The Stone and drifted off, only to wake up panicked that I had missed my first 6am boot camp class. Fortunately, it was 3:30am, but MAN, is there anything worse than the few seconds between "Mmmmfuzzydreamcycle" and "Where the fuck is my phone?*"

I managed yank myself out of bed at a more appropriate hour for the occassion (though 5am is never really appropriate) and cruised by Our Daily Grind to pick up coffee for Kristie's roommate Jaime, who had amicably offered to hold my hand through the trauma that is attending a fitness class for the first time. I foresee much soreness in my future.

These mornings, these nights, this life, I could live it so much differently, but I think I've found the balance between the spontaneous, destructive gratification that defined last year and the structured, stressball workaholism that defined the majority of my life, and I'm going to hold onto it as long as it results in sequences like this.

*I don't have any time-telling devices in my studio besides my phone and my computer. Generally speaking, I don't like to know what time it is.


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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.