"All in the Cold Midwinter and at the Midnight Hour"

Or, what I did over my winter vacation.

I've actually been dying to blog about this but wanted to get some other things out of the way first. Like revamping it and updating it, for instance.

A few years ago, I wrote this post about my favorite winter memory, the second winter I spent living in the dispensary, a perfect cabin at Camp Orkila and how blissful that winter was, revelling in my connectedness to the natural world. I sometimes feel there aren't words for how satisfying in a soul way living there was to me. And it wasn't just the proximity to the ocean, the way I heard the owls and the creaking of cedar trees at night, or the thick woods I could walk through or even the months I lived there while having very little work, or all the great books I read, or the great company I had in my friend Tracy, or the walks by the coast.

Some of it was the house itself. I have lived a lot of places. I could romanticize a lot of them in memory. I'm a nostalgic kind of girl. But the dispensary was different. To me, it was perfect. It's really a cabin, all wood walls, and I just love the coloring and the light, it just really strikes something deep inside me and when I'm there, I feel like I'm sort of spiritually home. And it is not something that is only in retrospective nostalgia. I felt it the moment I first walked in, in late 2003. I remember it so clearly. The regular season at camp was over, there were only a few of us left and this girl who I didn't know too well was living there and she invited me to come over and so I went. When I got there she was on the phone and kept telling me she would be off soon and kept talking and I was just soaking up the surroundings, instantly struck with an affinity for the house, the adorable way the curtains hung on the windows, reminding me of some old camping trip or something. While I waited for her to get off the phone, I had a little notebook w/me and I took it out and wrote a poem about the house. If there is love at first sight, well maybe it felt a little like that. I am a place-lover anyway.

So all that to say, it's been years since I spent any extended time there, until a few weeks ago. I still don't know quite how it happened. I was planning on going to Orcas for the holidays, but was having some struggles arranging it, knowing where to stay, how to get there, and somehow it all fell into place. I took the train to Seattle, met with my buddy and writer friend/mentor Janet who drove to the islands, and some friends who are at camp this winter suggested staying in the dispensary. So I did.

It was blissful. In my heart of hearts it was exactly, EXACTLY what I wanted out of my winter vacation. It was like my own private writing retreat, and I desperately needed something to get me started. Something felt so comfortable there. I sat on the couch where I once read Mists of Avalon for a month, and wrote for three days. I slept in my old room, in my old bed and just tried to soak up every moment of being there. It looks a lot different, with different people's stuff there. In the summer, the house is the "health hut" so there were all these doctorly things in there, which just rocked my world of course, lol. In my bathroom there were all these anatomy charts on the walls. It was perfect.

My first night there, I got in late at night, dropped my stuff off and immediately walked by the ocean. I have missed the ocean. I have missed that stretch of ocean, even during all the years living on Orcas but off of camp, I have missed it. I have missed walking it alone. It had been probably close to five years since the last time I did that. It was weird. I used to do it all the time. I used to know all the trees and major logs and rocks. I used to walk there all the time. That got me through the early winter of 2004, which was my first winter on Orcas, and really hard, and really, really rewarding. I had so many insights and realizations and aha moments walking that shore. I walked in when I was sad, when I was working things out in my own mind, when I was caught up in grief, when I was inspired, when I was happy, and mostly when I was most deeply, really me. That shore, with its cold, softer Puget Sound waves, its inky dark water, its curved shoreline shape, its distant, unreal horizon, its other islands, its sky, became like a real, good, true friend to me and I loved it unequivocally. And knew it. There are so many experiences I could recount that took place there, like the time I went skinny-dipping in the middle of February and how gorgeously cold the water was, but most of the experiences were more internal, personally meaningful, subtle and intangible but palpable.

So it was weird to be back. Really weird. Disconcertingly weird at first. It made me think of that phrase, "you can't step in the same river twice." It was beautiful and somber as always. It was the same. I wasn't. I felt so viscerally the difference between me visiting and walking this ocean now from me who had walked and loved that ocean years ago. I don't know if this makes any sense, or even what it means, but the main feeling I got (aside from being a visitor now, rather than a regular part of that landscape as I felt before), was that I felt taller.

What? I don't know what that means. My actual height hasn't changed. If I felt heavier or bigger it would make at least some sense, but I just kept getting this unshakable feeling that I was taller than the last time I'd been there, alone, at night. It was such a strong, distinct and precise feeling, so unmistakable, but also so not actually true in reality. So I thought it might be symbolic, but of what? I don't know. I do think it meant something though.

I also felt like I couldn't re-enter that old self that used to walk that sea. Sometimes, I sort of do this thing, if I'm really hit w/nostalgia, where I can almost re-enter an older time. The almost part is painful, like it's just within my grasp, so almost there, but always not quite, just almost. In this state I can conjure up the old feelings like body memories and capture a sense or a "feeling" about the older time, something I never would have quite felt when I was in it because it's a sense or feeling colored in by memory. It's hard to explain. But I couldn't do it. I was so not the same person as I once was.

The distance felt so undeniable, an inarguable fact. I felt the distance and I felt like I was somehow more detached, more cynical maybe, though that doesn't quite describe it. Distant is really the word. The tide was out and I climbed up a huge rock that I always used to sit on. I sat there for awhile, thinking about what happened between back then and then. It made me feel sad, and I felt like I should have felt more profoundly sad, and on some level I did, but it felt like things were only getting to that level, and not to anything deeper.

It just got me contemplating, and thinking about how I haven't been writing much, for years. Not really. Not the way I used to. Not anything other than blogs or journal entries. No poetry. No stories. No memoir. When I start, I write for a few days and then I turn away and just don't want to go back to it. Something I've been sort of circling around for months now suddenly became crystallized.

I write because I don't want to feel.

And if I write, I will feel. And if I write, I will write about a particular situation and I don't want to feel one sliver of it. I don't. It was awful. I was in a horrible relationship - that is not to say the guy was horrible, I want to make that clear, and I was no saint either, not by far - but somehow the mixture of the two of us was destructive, to me anyway, in ways I couldn't see until after he left. What kills me, the part I have the hardest time with, is my part in it all, the fact that I betrayed myself. I betrayed myself every day, day in and day out, every day we lived together. I did it so much it became invisible and I stopped even seeing it. For whatever reason, of all the things that happened, THAT is the part I have trouble accepting and facing, that betrayal of self. I shut my mouth about what I thought. I didn't say anything when he would make these outrageously sexist comments that seriously offended me. I didn't say anything when he ridiculed things I believed in politically, I just stopped saying them, or pretended to agree, to keep the peace. And then there were the things that were actually directed at me, that I still would never want to say b/c I feel so awful that I didn't say anything. And those are just the surface-y things. It went so much deeper. I wasn't myself. I wasn't free to be myself. I've gone through a lot in my life, a lot of horrible shit in one way or another, and always I felt like there was some intrinsic, spiritual core inside me that survived, that sometimes was even enriched and deepened by loss in the right context, an inner guide of sort of led me through, and when things got really awful I would often have calming or sacred or healing experiences around nature. It always felt like that part of me didn't survive that relationship. Maybe because I suppressed it and abandoned it at every turn. I've felt really lost. Really afraid to feel. Ever since. It's been awhile now. I don't want to keep feeling that way.

And, sitting on that rock, I realized that continuing to not write is, in a way, just a continued betrayal. There are a million reasons not to write, but that, and the fact that it could be hard doesn't mean I shouldn't do it. All I know is, I feel like that story is inside me, screaming, clamoring louder and louder every day to be let out, to be put on paper so it can be real, so I can look at it and maybe see things I never saw, so I can write into truth that goes beyond what I consciously know, because that's what happens when I write, other ways of knowing surface, some sort of healing alchemy stirs into motion. And I always feel better after. Not always during writing difficult things, but I always feel better after. And a lot of times it's funny. I mean what can you do sometimes when things are really, really dark, how can you face that darkness without a way to laugh? So a lot of times it ends up funny in ways that surprise me, dark ways, ironic ways, funny ways that aren't really funny, not really because they're heartbreaking, but they're also funny. And laughter, like crying, is release. But most of all, when I'm writing, I am really, distinctly myself with all my complexities and not the face I put on for anyone else, or the self I put on in this shitty situation, but wholly myself. And it is terrifying! But also rewarding. So I decided for 2010 I am going to write. I am carving out the time. I don't know where it will take me, and I am really just writing for myself, longhand, but the point is, I am writing. At the moment I'm writing about writing, but still.

As I got off that rock and walked the sea back to the dock, I started thinking about an experience I had when I was living in the dispensary. One morning I woke up really early, just around dawn, and it was one of the most glorious mornings ever. I was in the middle of Mists of Avalon (which I will tell anyone, is a great book to read in winter, it just is). I was at this part where Morgaine, the main character who was trained as a priestess in goddess worship, who has sort of left behind her training to live in the world. Then, much later, at the point where I was reading that morning, she was reconnecting with her roots, rediscovering ley lines and the old ways. Something about the feeling and that morning was so infectious and filled me with this magical feeling like I too was waking up to something. It was winter, right before solstice, but there were some brilliant sunrise colors. I went on a walk through the woods to a place called Chapel Rock in the early light and just felt so inspired and connected to the natural world and like I was coming undone and blossoming inside myself.

Awhile later, when I left camp the first time and stopped living there, I was pretty heartbroken to leave. I feel like people never fully understand this because people are so used to loving people (which of course I do too) but I loved that land. Leaving felt like tearing a part of my heart out. I had never had a relationship with land quite like that and it really, really broke my heart to leave. I had my reasons, and I think they were good and wise, but really, really difficult. I was in mourning in the days leading up to my departure. And I remember my last day of work that time around, being there in the morning, and being really caught up in the mourning, thinking of all the things I was leaving, remembering fall mornings washing the lodge windows and seeing the brilliant colors of the trees, revisiting a tree I had once leaned on in a time of great sorrow, knowing my life wouldn't be quite the same after I left. And it wasn't. I always missed living there in fall and winter with a yearning that could cut through me, and years later, I still sometimes do. I was afraid I wouldn't be my true, in touch, soul-satisfied and whole self that I was while living there.

And I remember thinking that morning, as the hours slipped away, time feeling so unreal, that maybe it would be okay. Maybe we have to lose ourselves or just lose sometimes, so that we can have a morning of awakening like the one I'd had that winter morning, reading about Morgaine's. I even wrote something about it, because years ago, I wrote about that day. Let me go find it.


I’m a little worried still that I might just be numb, but then I think again, so what? Maybe it’s not so bad that we lose ourselves now and again, just so we can experience awakening. Maybe I will indeed have another day like that one in winter when I woke up so early with Mists of Avalon and couldn’t even contain my yearning for life in the wild early hours, when I felt acute and alive like the most divine lust. It’s never a straight path, there are so many spirals and levels that i’m sure there will be more euphoria mornings.

Okay, I must say, reading this years later, I am embarrassed by that last line, b/c it's a reference to Chris Cornell and it's kind of corny, and he sucks so bad now, but the words are perfect for the feeling.


So anyway, a few weeks ago, on the solstice and at night, walking back along the ocean, I was thinking kind of similar thoughts. Maybe it's okay if parts of us go underground for awhile. Maybe we need that for survival, even if it's surviving something that shouldn't be the way it is, something that needs to be changed. Survival always comes first. Sometimes those parts go underground because we need to live in the world, like Morgaine, and maybe that's okay because there is eventually if we allow it, the joy of rediscovery, awakening, coming home to ourselves. And it's somehow richer because there's some mettle behind it, if that makes sense. There's wisdom. There's life lived. Morgaine would have been pretty boring to read about if she had just stayed on Avalon, never joining the struggles of the world and living a human life.

It felt like that is what my journey to Orcas for the holidays was about. It was an inkling. It wasn't as vibrant or as innocent as the morning years ago, but it was a glimpse of how to dig up the buried parts, and for me, it's always primarily through writing and nature. So I'm writing.

I spent the next few days walking around, writing, soaking up the feeling of the dispensary, trying not to forget that thawing out and coming home may not be easy, but they are worth it. And now I'm back home in my new home, and I'm still writing. So, that's something. I guess I got what I wanted for the holidays, and I think I'd take this more difficult gift which might require some wrestling with over anything I could find in a store, any day, and especially in winter.

Speaking of, the lyric I used to title this blog is from a song that Tori does on "Midwinter Graces." And what shocked me is when I came home and had my own little holiday thing in my apartment, drinking hot chocolate and watching (yes, here we go again) the Christmas episode of Grey's (and I love, love, love, love it, one of my all-time favorite episodes, it's sooooo good) and another version of this same song was on there! Love it.



Currently Listening:
"Abnormally Attracted to Sin" - Tori Amos

mpeccable peccadillo
You are off your guard
Pussy will calls there by the church
"don't go in if you are
abnormally attracted to sin"
Abnormally attracted to sin

She may be dead to you
But her hips sway a natural kind of faith
That could give your lost heart
A warm chapel
You'll sleep in her bell tower
And you will simply wake
Abnormally attracted to sin
Abnormally attracted to sin

Impeccable peccadillo
I know who you are
Tales of longing sway
Lost without a verse
Hymns of swing lay low
there by the church
"don't go in if you are
abnormally attracted to sin"
Abnormally attracted to sin

She may be dead to you
Kind of faith that could give
Attracted to sin
To sin
To sin

I Just Had the Coolest Afternoon!

Wow.

Okay, I just had an awesome afternoon. Today I met with a woman who works as a naturopathic physician who is totally blind. I mean, WOW. Totally inspiring. It's one of those times that reminds me that my visual impairment is NOT an excuse to not do things! I mean this woman is a doctor! She went through classes like gross anatomy and diagnostic imaging with no eyesight at all. How amazing is that?!?! It makes me feel like, yes, I can do science stuff, and there are all kinds of alternative techniques to do visually-intense things, in school and in life.

She also invited me to a group of blind and visually-impaired knitters and I'm going to do it. I'm good with my hands, and that is something that I've always felt that if I were taught how to do, I could really do by feel. So I am going to go get my knit on and be a stitchin' bitch! It'll be really nice to get connected with the visually-impaired community too. I'm psyched about that!

I came away from that appointment feeling really fired up and inspired. I also felt SO affirmed in my decision to attend school rather than that program in CO. She had some insight about that and the organization that totally backed up the feelings I was getting about things. I still want to make a post about that someday, about groups and organizations and their "central dogma" to use a bio term, but feel I need to really carefully consider my words b/c I am worried about the response. Anyway I felt like I learned SO much from her today about what I can do to succeed in science classes. She keyed me in to some really great strategies and techniques, and she's local so I feel like she's someone I could talk to if anything came up. WOW.

Not to mention, if I haven't already that there is a visually-impaired chemistry prof. at my school, who just happens to be the brother in law of a good friend of mine from Orcas. He helped me move in even! So I just have to say, it's yet another thing that makes me feel like I am SO GLAD I am here. I feel like Portland is just teeming with resources. And I was kind of in a funk, so this inspiring afternoon was just what the doctor ordered! It really is good to remember that whatever I choose to do in life, the eyesight is not a good enough excuse not to. I mean hell now they have blind people working for NASA, and there is a woman in WA who is working hard to be an FBI investigator even though she is blind. So it's like, fuck yeah!

The coolest part was, this was a chance meeting in a way. One of the presenters for my one-credit class a few weeks ago said something that made me want to ask her a follow-up question. The class is huge, so I waited at the end of the line to talk to her and when we met, she asked me about my eyesight and I said yeah I am visually-impaired, and she said, "Oh I have to connect you with this person I know, she's brilliant..." and so she called me a few hours later with this woman's contact info, and we talked and decided to meet this afternoon. It was just awesome! This seems to be the place of chance encounters, let me tell you. There is a crazy story about how a girl who used to live on Orcas randomly met the director of the company that put on my India program, and they bonded over the fact that they both knew me, and then there were some other WILD coincidences with that. Just makes me feel like I am in the right place!

Okay well, I have to get ready for class. We have our second exam on Monday, on much harder material but still I am going to fucking ROCK IT!

Currently Listening:
"Someone Else's Life" - Joshua Radin - I still don't know what to think of this guy. It's like I can't tell if he's really emotionally sincere, or a real tool. I mean, I like him a lot but I do get a feeling that something is lacking somehow, some element of rawness or depth or intensity or something. Still, I like. A lot. And he worked with Tori, a major point in his favor in my book!

Somehow
I'm leading someone else's life
I cut a star down with my knife

And right now
I still see the way the moon
Plays this tune
Though our lights died.

My hands shake
My knees quake
It's every day
The same way.
Cos then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
In my worn through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost,
I look at my picture of you.

And somehow
I'll make tonight our own
I'll show you every way I've grown
Since I met you

And right now
I'll be the boy in your next song
I'll learn the parts and play along
If you let me.

My hands shake
My knees quake
It's every day
The same way.
Cos then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
In my worn through shoes.
Then there's you.
Then came you.
When I'm lost,
I look at my picture of you.

If you let me,
I'll show the world to you.
Yes, if you let me,
I'll know just what to do.

Cos then came you.
Then there's you.
I keep your picture
In my worn through shoes.

When I'm lost
In your eyes
I see a way for me

Class Sign-Up Predicament (A Blessing in Disguise?)

So I have a bit of a predicament for signing up for classes.

I have to take between 6-8 credit hours each term this year. If I take less than six, I don't get financial aid. If I take more than eight, then it's more than half-time, and I simply can't afford it even with the financial aid. Also if I take eight or less all year, then next year I can be considered an Oregon resident for the rest of my schooling, which will make all the difference in the world. I will seriously be paying less going full-time next year as a state resident, than I am this year at half-time. By a pretty significant amount!

So pretty straightforward, right? 6-8 credits shouldn't be too hard to manage. Most classes are 4, so it should be easy.

Except that the Biology class I'm taking is a 5-credit class b/c it includes the lab. So that alone is not enough, and if I add any regular class, that puts me at 9 and I'm over my limit. So what it basically means I have to do is take some more unusual classes.

This quarter it was fine, there was an easy 1-credit class to add, kind of a career exploration class for science people. We see presentations every week, and have to turn in assignments answering questions based on the presentation and have a final essay to write at the end. It's just pass/fail, no real grade, but I am loving the class, and the assignments are pretty easy, just some self-reflection basically.

It's funny, I took a similar class in the physics department when I was in school before, and it was a lot easier, there were no assignments, no final essay, all you really had to do was show up. And at that time, it really turned me off to physics, because other than teaching, all the careers we heard about were related to defense. And anyone who knows me knows that there is absolutely no way I would EVER do that. So that class was a real bummer even though it was a lot less work. I'm glad I'm liking my current class a lot better!

But the point is, there are no classes like that next term. There are still some cool options, though they took some digging in the class schedule to find. There's a handful of PE classes I might be interested in - self-defense, swimming, yoga, belly dancing - as well as some potential music classes - voice, piano, guitar - aimed for beginners who are not music majors, like myself. I am really thinking about signing up for voice for next term.

I have wanted voice lessons my whole life so bad. As a kid, anytime I asked, my mom said I didn't have enough natural talent, which just crushed me every time. I remember the summer before my junior year of high school, I was writing a lot of poems and songs, and I kind of strategized all summer, preparing my case to ask again. There was a program for music lessons for visually-impaired people that made lessons super affordable, and I could cover the rest out of allowance. I thought that might help my case. And then after the second day back in school I finally worked up the courage to ask again, and got the same response. It was the perfect start to probably the worst year with some of my darkest days. I never asked again, and though I always thought about signing up for something like that in college, I never had the guts b/c I knew what kind of response I would get from my family. It's like, how many times are you going to let someone punch you in the face? So I never went near that topic again. As an adult I could never really afford it, though I never really stopped thinking about it, through the years. When I was in India, there were a few times where it really came to me how much I wanted to be musical, and how I've sort of given up, and how I don't want to give up b/c it means too much to me. I promised myself I would look into it upon my return to the US.

So now, the opportunity is there, it would be part of my tuition, and it fits my schedule (could go to that right after bio class) and the prof gets good reviews. It's a little scary b/c it's been so emotionally loaded a topic for me, and I've felt a lot of hurt around the topic. I think if I take a class like that, it's going to stir some stuff, shake me up some. Maybe that's a good thing. It feels like it could open up a can of worms of feelings that have been kinda stuck and lodged inside. Maybe the possibility of not shaking stuff up is a lot worse. I think when you grow up in a situation that feels oppressive and gives you certain beliefs about yourself, it is all too easy as you get older, to take over the oppression yourself and keep holding onto those beliefs. I don't want to live like that. I know I don't have any kind of stunning voice, but still I think I am okay, and if I take the class, it can only get better, right? I love to sing and I want to do it better, better express myself through music.

So I think I'm going to sign up for the class for winter quarter. It scares me, a lot, but sometimes those are the things that are really worth doing. And then in spring I might take the piano class. Sometimes, even (or especially) in school, you just have to follow your heart.

I never would have found this class if I wasn't in the predicament of needing to dig to find classes that are 1-3 credits, so even though at first I was like fuck, how am I going to stay within my credit range, I think it definitely turned out to be a blessing in disguise!


Currently Listening:
"The Good Left Undone" - Rise Against (who I saw at Lolla). Okay I must say that I completely misunderstood the chorus of this song the first time I heard it. I thought he was saying, "All because of you/I haven't slept in so long/When I do I dream/Of running in the ocean/reaching for the shore/Where I can let my hair down/I forgot your voice..." Not so terribly terribly off, but, definitely different.

In fields where nothing grew but weeds,
I found a flower at my feet,
bending there in my direction.
I wrapped a hand around its stem
and pulled until the roots gave in,
finding there what I've been missing.
And I know....

So I tell myself, I tell myself, it's wrong.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

Inside my hands these petals browned;
dried up falling to the ground,
but it was already too late now.
I pushed my fingers through the earth,
returned this flower to the dirt;
so it could live, I walked away now.
But I know...

Not a day goes by when I don't feel this burn.
There's a point we pass from which we can't return.
I felt the cold rain of the coming storm...

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

All because of you.
All because of you.

All because of you,
I haven't slept in so long.
When I do I dream
of drowning in the ocean;
longing for the shore
where I can lay my head down.
Inside these arms of yours.

All because of you
I believe in angels.
Not the kind with wings,
no, not the kind with halos;
the kind that bring you home
when home becomes a strange place.
I'll follow your voice;
all you have to do is
shout it out!

House, Music and Coincidence

Three things I love very much.

So, I wouldn't exactly say that I believe in magical musical synchronicity, because t he skeptic in me doesn't believe in much of anything, but I sort of do. Sometimes I go through phases where I can predict what song will come on next, among tons of possibilities. Sometimes the perfect song comes on, for example, if I'm writing to someone or about to call them, and then somehow the one song that really makes me think of them comes up, (and just for a reference point, I have over 11,000 songs on iTunes). Or sometimes I'll be thinking about a song and it comes on. Or a song that just magically fits the situation. What I'm saying is, I don't know how it happens, maybe it's some sort of mind over matter thing, maybe it's completely random and I assign it meaning, but I do sort of believe in something there.

But I'm getting a little off track (though I must say that one of the songs I'm planning to write about in this post just came on), what I wanted to write about was music, House and coincidence intersecting. Oh and dreams, I've been dreaming partly in songs this past week.

I think I've clearly established the fact in this blog that I've seen every episode of House several times. So it shouldn't have come to a big surprise when last March, when I was at the writing residency (which just totally rocked my world), I came downstairs and a song was playing that I knew I knew, but couldn't place. As it played on, I suddenly realized, "Oh, that song's on an episode of House!" It was that song "Colors" that I included in my last post, by Amos Lee. That was the first time I ever heard a song from the show in the real world. It was pretty cool. I really love that song.

About two months after that, I was working at camp on Mother's Day Weekend, and who shows up as a guest at Camp but Dave Matthews and his family. I never met him (and honestly, didn't particularly care to). I'm not a big fan, but I do really love this one Dave Matthews song at the end of the House episode "Love Hurts." The song is called "Some Devil," and has this great line, "You said always and forever is such a long and lonely time." I don't know what it says about me that I'm drawn to that, but whatevs, I dig it. Anyway, so that whole weekend I couldn't get that song out of my head. Then one of my co-workers said that DM was in an episode of House. I'm not good at celebrity recognition (and really didn't even know what DM looked like), so I wasn't aware, and my friend went to go look it up, and came back and said, "His name on the show was Patrick--" I interrupted b/c I instantly knew what episode he was talking about, "Half-Wit," where the patient Patrick, is a guy who got in a bus accident at an early age, and was left mentally retarded but a musical savant. So then we joked around (we'd all been joking around about our celebrity guest all weekend), about going up to him and being like, "Hey, aren't you the guy who played a retarded guy on that show House?" and then these guys I work with were joking that they'd follow that up with, "Oh and weren't you in that band, Hootie and the Blowfish or something?" because we always used to listen to this 90s rock station on satellite radio and they'd always ask with any pop-ish song that came on (including DMB and other bands) if it was Hootie. We were sort of joiking about that, about pretending not to know who he was because DM was all anyone on staff was talking about all weekend. There was a lot of gushing, and we were too cool for that, of course, lol.

So, fast forward a few months to this past summer. I always listened to Democracy Now! on my iPod on my long walk to work, and I always paid attention to the music played during the breaks, because I always pat attention to music. A few times I heard songs by Rage Against the Machine, one time I heard Soundgarden's Hands All Over during a broadcast on global warming. One day I heard a song that I ikmmediately recognized as being from House, from the episode "Family," which I later looked up to find the name and artist, Brett Dennen's "Ain't No Reason." It totally excited me to have House and Democracy Now! coinciding somehow. For whatever reason that song, and a few others from the last half of Season 3 (like Josh Ritter's "Good Man") have always really stood out for me.

The next day or so, turning the corner from my road to head to work, again listening to Democracy Now! I heard a song I recognized, but couldn't tell from where. I just knew I'd heard it before, but when the break was over, Amy Goodman only announced the name of the song, "Time to Pretend," and never the artist. I didn't think much of it. Then the next day, still crazed over the song "Electric Feel" by MGMT, I decided to listen to the rest of the album. I put it on and went to the other room to straighten up my apartment, and as the first song played, I was like, "OMG, that's the song!" and I went and looked at my iTunes screen and it was indeed "Time to Pretend." I was just like, whoa. It's funny when the same songs keep cropping up. And I can't go anywhere or do anything without paying attention to what music is playing, whether I want to or not.

Then, a little over a month ago, some friends visited from NJ, and we went out to this pretty nice restaurant on the island during their last night here. Music was playing quietly in the background, to the point where I had to almost strain to hear it, but even in those cases, my attention is always drawn. A song came on that again I vaguely recognized but couldn't place. I was sort of singing along, I knew the words, I just couldn't place it. And then it hit me that this song, too, was from House. After coming home and doing some research I found it was "In the Waiting Line" by Zero 7. The wildest part was, I already had the song on my computer and didn't notice it. A friend gave me his whole music collection and it's so massive that months later, I still haven't listened to all of it, so that was a nice surprise.

By this point, I could pretty much sing along to any song from any episode, b/c I'd seen them all so many times, and I was starting to feel a real fondness for the music on the show.

After that was when I gave in to the obsession and started collecting the soundtracks from the various seasons of House. I found that the Zero 7 song wasn't the only one I already had. I also had a song by Gomez, and "Feel Good Inc" by Gorillaz, which plays during one of the very few scenes where House is running.

Just when my TV watching habit couldn't get any worse, I suddenly got into watching Grey's Anatomy. I had a lot of resistance to that show. A girl's not exactly apt to love a show that the guy she once lived with used to drool over and referred to as his "slutty hospital show." But because he had liked it so much, I had seen a lot of episodes (albeit oozing with jealousy all the while) and then last winter, some of my girl friends would come over and we'd watch it on Thursdays, but not enough to really keep up with the storylines fully.

So for whatever reason, I started watching all the old episodes on my computer. I think it's partly that I've exhausted House and I needed something medical to watch. When I had TV, I used to watch all these mystery diagnosis shows on the Discovery Health Channel, which were great. Sometimes, because of my prolific House-watching, I could solve the mysteries before the answer was revealed, or knew what specific diseases and their treatments were before it was discussed. So I had to fill that void, and started watching Grey's Anatomy, and LOVING IT way more than I thought I would. I'm a little obsessed. It's different than other shows I follow, namely House and The Office, because they're so witty and super intelligently clever, whereas Grey's is more emotional, but OMG I love it so much. And especially Dr. Alex Karev.

And the point is, of course I pay attention to the music there too. I've noticed some cross pollination between Grey's and House (and have recognized at least two people who appear in both shows - there's a woman who plays a freaked-out mom in an early episode of House who plays a woman who's dying of cancer who won't stop eating cake on Grey's, and a patient in the House episode "Fools for Love" plays Meredith and Derek's last clinical trial patient on Grey's. Damien Rice is in both show, twice in each. And Brett Dennen has songs in a few Grey's episodes. I also noticed in Grey's that during the first season, the makers of that sh ow must've been obsessed with Tegan & Sara - practically every song from So Jealous is on that first season, including my two favorites, "Fix You Up" and "Where Does the Good Go" and even in the first episode of Season 3, "Time Has Come Today," the one where Izzie is laying on the bathroom floor, there's a bunch of flashbacks, and a few of the flashbakcs are to a "mixer" that happened just before the first episode, and Tegan & Sara is playing in those flashbacks too! Weird.

But what really blew my mind was in the last episode I watched. I didn't watch the seasons in order, and actually got to season 2 last (a lot of which I had already seen, but it's amazing how much I didn't remember), and in the last episode of that season, what song comes on but "Colors" by Amos Lee! It came on during a "prom" they have at the hospital. It gave me chills. That's the only song that has actually been on both shows. It was a great way to end the viewing marathon with, it just seemed so synchronous, and so funny since that is the song I've been all hung up on, and included in my last post. It gave me chills when it came on.

So this is all obscure and kinda useless to anyone else, but it makes me happy, so I'm writing about it..

And here comes the dream part. A few nights ago, I had a dream that was very strange. It reminded me of the Orcas Island Writers Festival, there were all these tents set up with different workshops going on inside, and somehow Alex from Grey's was in this dream (and just for the record, I don't usually dream about fictional characters, but this time I did, and we were dating, and he had a baby daughter...???), and in one of the tents, the song "Hit the Ground" by Lizz Wright (which is a House song) was playing. What struck me was how clearly I heard the song in the dream, every word. That's unusual. It was really, really striking. Then last night I dreamt about Damien Rice's "Sleep, Don't Weep" which is not one of my favorite songs off of 9 Crimes, but is in an episode of Grey's Anatomy, in a three-parter that has to do with a ferry crash (I must say one of the things that draws me to the show is that it takes place in Seattle, and that they're always showing ferries, but I do NOT like the idea of them crashing being put into my head). Again, the song was very vividly in my dream. The rest of the dream was much stranger though, I mean just beyond bizarre, trying to escape some sort of haunted, evil house with a brother of some sort that seemed and looking nothing like my brother. Weird shit, I tell ya.

Again, this may be my strangest blog post. I realize no one is really oging to care about the intricacies of my favorite TV shows, but I don't care, it's all been in my head, some of it for months, and I need to get it out. So there.

Oh and I must say, about two weeks ago, I went to Seattle and saw my friend Eileen (also known as BlueShine), who's recently returned from Iraq, and we were just talking, shooting the shit, and she was telling me that there was one point when they couldn't really go anywhere, and she watched House for twelve hours. Oh, it warmed my heart and got me all excited to know she was into House too.

Anyway, I'm shutting up now.

Currently Listening:
"Hope for the Hopeless" - A Fine Frenzy - of course, a song from House, one I've been listening to a lot lately and lovin' it. I love this woman's voice. Here's the words:

Stitch, in your knitted brow
And you don't know how
You're going to get it out
Crushed, under heavy chest
Trying to catch your breath
But it always beats you by a step
All right now

Makin' the best of it
Playin' the hand you get
You're not alone in this

There's hope for the hopeless
There's hope for the hopeless
There's hope

Cold, in the summer breeze
Yet you're shivering
On your bended knee
Still, when your heart is sore
And the heavens pour
Like a willow bending with the storm
You'll make it

Runnin' against the wind
Playin' the cards you get
Something is bound to give

There's hope for the hopeless
There's hope for the hopeless
There's hope
There's hope
There's hope
There's hope