we'll talk...

Days ago, I had a completely different impression of that damned expression.

And, now… Same designation, altered notion.

There is anxiety in rebooting a friendship.

A long distance one, at that.

The fear of buggering it up.

Countered by the relief that I’m not fully insane..

(I really did wonder if I was slipping.)

It’s been years, now.

And time has been squandered.

But, let’s just see what we can come up with in these last fifty days.

No pressure, no plots, no plans... 

But, never say, “We’ll talk later,” again.

History has revealed us to be daft idiots.

And those blunders, I don't wish to repeat.

winter of our dis-connect

Email is quite a thing.

Always think twice before clicking ‘send.’

Especially those with a vibe of the ‘off-the-rack.’

CTRL+C, CTRL+V to multiple recipients.

Clock-in. Write-up. Wrap up. Sign-off. Un-plug. Withdraw.
It's simply gauche.

Amethyst Sunbird by Helge Denker, 2006 postage stamp | Namibia

Gypsum, Fluorite, Dioptase, Mimetite by J. van Niekerk, 1991 postage stamps | Namibia

positively 4th street.

I couldn’t get the tune out of my head.

Then the whistling started.

But, what were the lyrics?

How would I find this song in my collection?

I knew the genre, right?

60’s rock. Chirpy intro, overall depressing theme.

To whom could I call and attempt a rendition?

Who would understand the strangled warble over the patchy cell service?

Unfortunately the only one who came to mind who could manage the task wasn’t a viable option.

It seems to go, that you’d consider other failures and false starts in times like these.

It triggered, too, another memory that once I’d had another person, who could take a 30 second phone call and manage a tune to match my memory.

Mistakes made today:

◦ Waiting until the last minute to buy bread. Slim pickings limited to white loaf.

◦ Arriving on time to combi. (Which is two hours late, in my book.) Waited two hours more for repairs.

◦ Leaving my green Coach in the combi. Contents included, but not limited to: my passport, American VISA, Namibian ATM card, all remaining VICA for the month, my MTC Netman dongle, last mint Blistex from stash, new neon-pink alpaca-knitted parrot finger-puppet, lock and key earrings.

◦ Bungling traditional Ruk greeting in haste to find combi, in effect, was rude to best friend’s mother, Clementine. 

◦ Opening my email.

Wonders experienced today:

◦ Overabundance of brie in the dairy aisle.

◦ Lone giraffe loping ahead of our combi in the full moon.

◦ Best friend Em, and cousin, Kavax, (also our combi driver) having already dropped off my purse back at my home, even as I was setting off under the night sky on the hunt in the general direction of the rukanda (location).

◦ Managing to remember the opening lyrics. Finding the tune on google. Finding it in the ranks in my zune.

◦ Not having to make a call to the south, because, it would have driven me mad, not knowing.

◦ Appreciating the irony of the song, the recall, and the trigger.

a rock, an island | Clear quartz found near Botswana, one breezy winter morning, last year.

off the map.

Something I’d left off from a list made so recently.

A long distance relationship.

Considering the languages of love… touch, words, gifts, service, time.

My tendencies run toward the former and latter.

Introducing a distance of any kind unravels my ideas and presumptions of what a relationship comprises.

I’ve had poor judgment in the past.

Really, I just shoot myself in the foot.

My temperament is the flaw. I don’t stay angry long enough.

The tempest passes. I tend to move on, without requiring an apology or definite resolution.

Which has been imprudent on my part.

If people aren’t allowed (and on occasion forced) to confront themselves, and their actions, and their words, they never learn how to communicate. To adapt within a friendship. The same issues will continue to arise.

I also forget that while I’m candid, others tend to be more reticent, or duplicitous.  

It doesn’t occur to me someone might lie, until I’m standing there, watching their face shutter as a manufactured version of an experience is produced.

We humans are aware when we've been lied to.

The trouble is acknowledging it in real time.

There is an alarm, an electrical short, a clicking noise, something that makes our brains slam on the brakes—making that terrible screech you hear right before the car crashes; so often we let that millisecond pass by only to feel the delayed whiplash later on.

That little bit of doubt is towed away. Off to where it stacks up almost out of sight…

Riiight on the periphery.. A fuzziness out of the corner of the eye.

You didn’t see it coming? Scout’s honour? Pardon this healthy dose of skepticism, then.

Friendship is a journey best embarked upon without a map.  

Yes, of course, you should know how to read a compass, discern which cardinal direction moss grows toward in your neck of the globe, by all means, know how to find the Southern Cross. Employ all relevant survival skills; a babe in the woods is of little use to anyone.

The trouble arises when one person produces the map early on. Oh, you've mapped out each petrol station, every toilet and coffee break for the entire trip? That was so… ... Thoughtful?

And they sit there looking at you as if they’re not a complete ass. Expecting the other to agree heartily with the terms, conditions, and limitations of their attachment. 

Such maps are symptoms of the following: a) emotional unavailability, b) control issues, and, c) residence in an entirely different sphere of reality.

Efforts such as these made to manage the evolution of relationships are baffling.

Relationships are nebulous entities. Thoroughly disobedient mechanisms; they exist of persons who share linked realities, but wholly different perspectives.

Some considerations as I ponder this new journey..

I'm in uncharted territory, folks.

Now Playing:

11 songs | 43 minutes, 49 seconds

láventure fantastique | Fantastic Plastic Machine |Bran Van 300 / Towa Tei

Red Alert | Basement Jaxx | The Singles

Hush Boy | Basement Jaxx | Crazy Itch Radio

Oh La La | Goldfrapp | Supernature

Jus 1 Kiss | Basement Jaxx | The Singles

Archangel | Burial | Untrue

Romeo | Basement Jaxx | The Singles

2 Times / F&A Factor Electro Mix | Anne Lee | 2 Times

Lights (Bassnectar Remix) | Ellie Goulding

Little Better | Gnarls Barkley | The Odd Couple

Heavenly Sweetness (Remix) | Better Daze | Thievery Corporation


The above image 'You Are Here' has been borrowed, and altered, from the original on www.jimkudrick.com. Sadly, neon signs are few and far between this side of Namibia.

bonne chance..

Everything gets better after it gets worse.

Even a scorpion sting.

Such as masquerade parties in the south. 

Serendipitous, practically magical travel to get there. 

Cuddling, at times shamelessly.

Weird drunken conversations. 

John Roberts versus Ruth Bader Ginsberg. How was that even a debate? RBG. 

Back to teaching. 

Back to reality. 

Thanks for all the love, emails, chats and texts from the states, and from here in Namibia. 

Couldn't do it without you.

My mask, made on the fly, for the party... 

how to save your own life.

How perfectly apt.

And how lovely I just read this work.

Four years ago, I ended a relationship with a man I'd dated off and on – mostly on – for years.

He didn't love me, really, and he cheated and strayed, but I stayed about knowing he was my best friend, my family, and for the past decade, he has been there for me, even when we were both at our worst.

I never hoped for a reconciliation, I still don't, I never will.

I love him, but not in the way it is vital to love someone to make it work.

Several years ago, I moved on, began dating, shared the quibbles of dating life with him (as you would a best friend), defended him to my then boyfriends, explaining if you love me, then you'll try to understand why I keep this schmuck around. He's family.

They eventually understood. And that we (subsequent relationships) didn't work out had no bearing on him – why we didn't work out – more that I had (and continue to have) bad judgment when it comes to men.

Could it be any more insulting for someone to suggest that something that just happened to you has no bearing on your life? That has been the suggestion of my best friend for years. 'This is private.' An essential demand to not air our dirty laundry.

Screw dirty laundry (though what an ironic phrase, as laundry is usually that which has just been cleansed)..

So. Let the cleansing begin.

Not the list of dirty laundry.

That is too long, detailed, and petty for anyone in their right mind to want made public on the internet.

Just this bit. He just chucked me out of his life. Via email.

I'm not sure how to respond.. I'm reeling..

I thought that falling for that dimwit in the south and being rejected was a low point.

I thought letting it go and feeling goofy over another – was trending toward an up point...

It all went down. Down, down, down tonight.

Along the lines of this.

Don't respond to this email. I've removed you from my social media contacts. I want nothing further from you. But try me through video chat when she's not here to notice, I might still be able to be your clandestine friend. But I love her, you see, so you're out.

How anemic any reply must be from here.

Thousands of miles away.

Worst day of service in the Peace Corps. Wholly unrelated to service.

It really is vital to have loved ones behind you.

You tend to stumble when they let you down in an epic fashion.  

or, but might you handle it on your own, after all?

after drinking too much gingerfizz.. 

and considering the bond humans make when thrust outside of their element, into unfamiliar situations.

it is a comfort that one might be only a ten hour combi ride away.