Jacamo Fi Na Nay

I woke up early this morning hoping to find sunshine. Alas, the one time I successfully start my day early it's dark and ominous here in the Big Easy. I've got a little less than 2 weeks here at home. My decision to go back to Salem early was a hard one for my parents to hear and thus a hard one to make. I suppose going to school so far from home has its consequences. However, having such a limited time in one place with certain people always succeeds to create a urgent sense of optimism and opportunism. Thus I am awake early ready to get the most out of my day and my city.

Yesterday was the first day of summer, summer solstice. I don't buy it. How can that be the first day of summer if I have been sweating bullets since I got here in 95 F, 87% humid weather? I've lost about 10 lbs since I've been here and I swear I must have sweated it all out. Ya'll shoulda seen me camping in Florida, sleeping in my underwear on top of a sleeping bag in the tent. For the first time I sang Nelly's "Hot in Heere" in the most literally appropriate scenario.

Being home has been really good. Making the transitions between Salem/Home and Home/Salem are always difficult for me. There's always something going on and this city never sleeps. But again I find myself conscious of an underlying state of fear necessary for survival in this city. I feel myself suspicious of people in a way that can't compare to the suspiciousness I feign against Salem hobos. It's racist and it makes me feel like a bad person.

But New Orleans is such a beautiful mix of cultures and people love it so fiercely. It's simultaneously stale and fresh, dangerous and safe, ugly and beautiful. But from the Oyster, Zydeco, and Seafood festivals to birdwatching in the Bayou Savage swamp to meandering down the ancient streets of the French Quarter and hearing people everywhere call me "baby," I really do love this place and it will always be home.

Coming back to Salem I have no plans. Nor do I have a job. I am hoping that in my idle state I will become fiercely creative writing novels, composing ballets and knitting sweaters for my future grandkids. But while there's people I love down here in the South, there's people I love up in the Pacific Northwest whom I am so excited to see. Natty, I'm truly bummed you won't be there (and that goes for all you roamers).

But I'm ready to explore Salem, it's still a mystery to me. I'm wondering if I can find a love that can compare to the fierceness with which I love New Orleans, and I don't doubt it's possible. Especially in that summer sun (there is sun there by now right?) Anywhere there's people there's love and culture, sometimes it's just not so obvious.

Love yall.

ps. anyone who has any sort of (il)legal access to HBO should watch the show Treme. Talk about a beautiful, realistic portrait of the life I experience in New Orleans.

pps. I picked up a great magazine called Bitch. It's a collection of feminist responses to pop culture and the media out of Portland. There was a great article about representations (or, until recently, lack thereof) of the female orgasm in hip hop/rap songs in the last decade. So great.