Festival buzz...

This time last summer the buzz was just starting. Almost indiscernable, it was just a subtle thing, haunting my ears. Not really a sound but a vibration nonetheless that would build and build on itself until that wonderful weekend in August that I wait for all year. And then, for those four days it was a full fledged vibe, a buzz of sound and movement and energy that slowly dims over the long winter, only to build again when the warm weather hits. God I love that weekend. I can't wait for it this year either, though for me the vibe is once again a slightly different thing.

But another energy is surging around me this year. An earlier buzz laying claim to my ears. A different vibratto energy punctuated with laughter and emotion and ( ok, I admit it) a wee bit of stress. Like last year but different, building to a different climax. It is still that sense of happy anticipation mixed with a dash of anxiety in just the right balance so that you can smile when it all comes together.

A note to the numerous...

I want to sit on a bustling patio and drink slushy drinks with you.
I want to talk about everything and nothing for hours while we watch the people go by.
Or maybe I want to share a frosty beer in the corner booth in a pub, toasting the summer but isolated from the world.
I want to hide in a refreshingly air conditioned movie theatre with you, playing hooky from life for hours at a time.
I want to sit on a picnic blanket with you, watching people play frisbee or soccer in the park while we eat watermelon and strawberries.
Or maybe I want to play frisbee (or a round of disc golf) with you.
I want to climb on playground equipment, giggle on the teeter totter, swing on the swings and be silly with you.
I want to walk on a beach with you: getting our feet wet for the first time this summer. I want to sit on the rocks and watch the waves and talk (or not talk) with you... for days maybe...
I want to go on a road trip with you. Pick a destination and we'll go - listening to and talking about music as the road stretches out behind us.
Or maybe I just want to stay at home with you, curled up on the couch watching movies and eating popcorn while the world spins on around us.

Or maybe I just miss you. Maybe I feel that our time together has not been of the highest quality...or quantity ....lately.

....and maybe I can just think of a million things for us to do because we have no time to do it.

Note: this started about one person and became about many people. I think it's yet another cry for help from out of the busy.

That smile

It's interesting that when I think of what I want in a man, so many of the pieces come from him.

It's like I'm imagining some sort of Frankenstein where I can pick my parts ( not in the dirty way....although....now that I think about it...). That voice, this brain, that wit and perhaps above all... that smile. There are also considerations like how my head fits into the crook of his shoulder, how the hug fits, what he looks like barefoot and wearing jeans, can he cook and does he still surprise me once in awhile...

Not that he's real of course, he's just my Picasso, my jigsaw of all the best parts.

strange communal transition

It seems everyone I know is in some state of flux. Counting the number of people moving would take more than one hand ( if I needed fingers to count). We are seperately packing boxes, loading cars, driving away, flying away...

Most often when a person moves, it becomes a communal thing, a group effort, even a party. Everyone helps and it goes quickly and having friends around somehow makes it all more bearable. And always there is pizza and beer at the end. This time is different for all of us. We are each too busy to help the others. Too preoccupied with what is happening in our own lives to notice the chaos we are all spinning through. Our lives are too busy, too scheduled and the simple act of packing boxes has to be squeezed into the moments between. Sadly solitary moments.

We want to. We want to take the time to say long goodbyes to the few who are actually leaving (or who have already gone). We want to spend long afternoons in the park (we are all disc golf addicts now) and we want (more of) those long nights by the fire together that we are becoming accustomed to. We don't want to miss anything... or anyone.

But the world spins faster in the summer, and boxes must be packed and unpacked, and flights have to be caught, and then there's festivals, so many festivals. It's the kind of busy that buzzes like bees. The kind of busy that you simultaneously love and curse...

I have to go. I am actually too busy to be writing for so long.

Something I've learned

No matter what - it is never ok to consume a drink with a name like "buttery nipple". It is never a good idea to tell a bartender to "surprise you". And following up with shot of Jack is always always a bad plan.