come for me, cover me, comfort me, you come for me

Somehow I feel more rested and calm from chilling out and falling asleep early last night back in Boulder then I ever did back in Albuquerque. I just don't know. Did I somehow fail the purpose of a "break"? It almost felt like all the things that I explicitly wanted to do with my time somehow didn't happen. Or didn't happen with as "good of an experience" as I was hoping. I still felt desolated with trying to spend time with Chey, even after all the phone conversation we had before. I came in touch with some friends back at home, but somehow I felt a little isolated.

Some of the better moments came with some of the family. It was fun truckin' around with Mom and Dad on the last night to go get a happy hour cocktail and then watch Chey march in the Twinkle Light Parade, and then Sadies after that was spectacular. The place was really crowded, we were lucky to get a seat in the bar area, but the Milagro margarita and smothered New Mexican goodness was hella worth the wait. Later that night was probably one of the other really good moments. It started with trying the absinth with Dad, and we were intrigued by the pungent licorice smell it radiated. After Dad went to bed, Neal, Cameron, and Dyl stopped by, and we smoked in the backyard. We watched some TV and talked for a short while, and Neal showed me some of his new beats, some of which were exceptionally better then any of his other stuff I've heard before. Also, Robbie kinda got more then what he bargained for when we smoked in the backyard. He was chomping at the smoke quite a bit and therefore probably got pretty baked. He was running all over the place, his pupils were pretty dialated, and at one point he looked totally entranced and scared, as he was burying his head next to Neal in probably some sort of fright. However, he definitely got the munchies later that night (with me as well...hah), and he ate the rest of his dog food and some of the Sadies leftovers we brought home.

Otherwise, Albuquerque feels a little more distant as home these days. I might have said that before, but this fall break might have been just a verification of such a statement. I have to drive everywhere to meet people, and it is really hard to get around. I spent a lot of time at home, sometimes the entire day, and I would fill that time praciticing trombone (which actually was something I am glad I did). Some of the streets are falling apart, as I saw over on the east side of Central, where blocks are filled with foreclosed stores with giant empty windows and weeds growing all over the sidewalk. Everywhere around there, even the air force base, just seems to grow smaller, and my desire for everywhere else in the world has just grown that much larger. 

The other reality check, and probably still the most depressing moment, was a return to Grandma's house in Dulce. I know, I just KNOW that I have seen the town and the reservation go through better days then what it is right now. More and more houses are growing older, the trash still has not been removed from a good portion of people's yards, and some of the newer facilities are somehow starting to degrade (I think). The snow and cloudy skys through the two days we were there did not help brighten that perspective either. Grandma's "new" house is just so clustered with sheer "crap" in some places, and it is hard to still think that she is taking care of the children born from a mother that she can not even bear to call "related" any more. It is still hard to view the old house falling apart, and with the house falling apart comes the falling apart of hope and memory of what lies inside that house. It justifies why Grandma and Jason and the other cousins come and visit so much at times, probably: the place is becoming such a wasteland.

With that understanding, the most important commitment I could make is to at the very least learn the language again. I spent some time with Grandma Mina going through the Jicarilla dictionary to make sure that I had some of the pronunciations and grammatical structures correct. The language itself is unlike anything else that I have ever studied, but somehow, I feel that being that this this language of MY people, it should not be too hard for me to take everything in, so long as I stay commited to my study for the next months. It is a hard commitment because I feel that so many times it has always been "casually" mentioned with a "small" amount of guilt that I should be studying our language, but it truly has never been PUSHED onto me to learn it, as in if I do not learn the language, I could probably call it extinct. The fear of that reality should push me even harder these days.

Another important commitment is the commitment to take at the VERY LEAST a half-hour a day to shut my eyes in a quiet location and to focus on my consciousness and my own being. So often so much time, even hours at times, is spent falling out of consciousness and doing things that are so fucking counterproductive towards my life. I find and catch myself sitting in the bathroom picking at my skin for hours because I start worrying about my problems and how that will affect my future instead of actually going out and "making that future" by sorting out those problems and getting them done. Life is so goddamned hard, but it is just so hard because too often we MAKE it hard for ourselves.

-c