No. 38

1. I am watching a man in very thick black glasses dance with his 6-year-old daughter to Aretha Franklin. She looks embarrassed; he looks absolutely delighted. He is supposed to be doing work, but instead he is dancing. I am so thankful to witness this moment.

2. Dave wrote: Last year was the hardest, most stressful and lonely year of my life, but it has greatly prepared me to be a better friend, a better teacher, a better Christian this year. I finally feel ready. It's like when you never feel like you're ready to take a philosophy class until after you have completed the philosophy class.

This was so encouraging to me. Not only because I'm having a bit of a rough time myself, but because of the message of that last line...sometimes you don't feel ready to embark on something until you've already done it. That is so profound and so helpful.

3. Last night I watched a 60 Minutes segment on food icon and visionary Alice Waters who has written a couple of my favorite books and is the international governor of Slow Food, a movement for which I am particularly impassioned. This interview really changed my entire evening; I felt a small step closer to one of my life's goals, which is to come to a place of complete adoration for the gift of my body, and appreciation for all that I can give it as nourishment.

Alice Waters seems to have triumphantly arrived at this place, and I am inspired by her message--however insane the delivery--and her celebration for life. How can I live this fully? I suppose it starts with tomatoes.

No. 37

1. Church is becoming such a source of joy lately I cannot even tell you. I know I am always talking about how independent and introverted I am and whatever, but obviously I so deeply desire community and church is beginning to provide such a strong, growing, stable one for me. Only in the past couple weeks have I started to feel an unfailing sense of belonging there; I believe because I can be quite shy, and also because I keep leaving the country, it took a while (three years) to be remembered, and known, and socially brave, and all that comes with belonging to a group of people. But I am getting there, and it is so needed right now.

Today Priest Sarah and I and others were delighting in the idea of bringing out some different vestments for certain days in the summer (that’s some serious church-nerd humor you guys), and this one lady I love but rarely talk to said “And Mari can be the fashion consultant!”

I have a place! I am joked about! This is so exciting for me! The easiest way for me to receive love, feel belonging, understand affection, is through people making fun of or joking about me.
Today, I was involved in a fashion joke. So that was great and I am happy.

2. I went to my married friends Tyler and Kelli’s apartment last night for this four-course, three-wine dinner party and I stayed until 2:30 and realized that I have these wonderful precious years to do this kind of insane(ly fantastic) thing. How much I enjoy being with hilarious people!—and eating spectacular food created with fresh ingredients from the farmers market and drinking French wine in grand celebration of Bastille Day and needing to run to the bathroom because I am laughing so very hard.

More than any quality, I love humor in my friends; I am only mildly impressed by winning intellect and keen ability to bake really good cupcakes, but I love funny people and I know so many of them! I am so lucky!

3. Kelli and I went out to lunch at Whole Foods—an unplanned activity which brought me cheer and extraordinary gelato. The truth is that most of my inspiration comes from my conversations (well, and also pie). I am not one for surprises but I do appreciate the complete gift of an unplanned hour with someone, with time to relish a burrito while coming to life-affirming conclusions about the Bible and pistachio ice cream—sometimes even how the two relate.

We discussed gender and sexuality in the Church, which of course I would talk about all day every day if it were up to me. We discussed the beauty of feminine strength and how we love being part of a church which celebrates our whole entire selves—not just our souls, but also our bodies and our minds.

And Kelli said this really beautiful thing: “When I joined the Episcopal Church, I began to truly love my body.”

No. 36

1. Today I was told: "Whenever you're here, I am so happy. Whenever you're not here, I'm sad and I miss you." The barista-customer relationship truly is one of the most precious.

2. This evening was the first time I felt really good about teaching. I taught a grade school gymnastics class, which I prefer a million times to preschool classes, even when they involve tap dancing. The 4th grade girls are funny, sharp, bright, sarcastic. I love teasing them and I love encouraging them. They have invented their own personal languages, their own styles of movement, and already have a solid sense of identity. They are kind to each other and respectful toward me, and they rock at front handsprings. Strong confident girls completely inspire me.

3. My first piece of mail at my new apartment: a small, stuffed, fabulous package from Caitlin the Dreadlocked Poet, who is not dreadlocked anymore but that's still her name, and she is so treasured and knows exactly what I want and need in my moments. A CD full of brilliant Asa, Andu, Joshua Radin, Iron & Wine...fall leaves from Chile, a crocheted magenta scarf, a letter--"I hope this day finds you feeling beautiful"--completely colored my afternoon. My dear friend in Idaho makes me want to be a more vibrant person.

No. 35

1. "HELLO SIR! HOW ARE YOU?!"
"I am very well; how about you?"
"I am so happy you're here! OH! How was your cupcake the other day?!"
"Oh it was overwhelmingly delightful. And you were right; after eating it, my day went beautifully!"

I am sometimes very self-conscious about how enthusiastic I can be, particularly on issues such as cupcakes. It is really nice and wonderful to talk to someone as enthusiastic as I am. Particularly on issues such as cupcakes.

2. A guy from church found a CTA 1-day Fun Pass on the floor of the Belmont Station. He gave it to me. I rode free for 24 hours, saving me $7.25. I bought a carrot cupcake and incense. Thank you so much, Guy From Church.

3. "Are you aware that you are my rock and my inspiration?"
"You are my rock star too, dear."

No. 34

1. My landlord is taking his sweet time in turning on my cooking gas, so I am oven-less for another week. Ergo, I have been brainstorming meals that do not require any heat. Perhaps this will be the week when I finally become a raw vegan like I've always dreamed of! Perhaps not.

Today I thought of an idea--hummus and pita!--my staple in the last two years of college. So I schlepped all the way over to Salam ("peace" in Arabic), my favorite restaurant in all of Chicago. It's a tiny Palestinian dive restaurant smelling of oil and chickpeas with sweaty guys behind a counter displaying piles of pale pink unidentifiable meat. And I love it. And their hummus is delightful beyond belief. Beyond what you can believe delightful to be. I lie not.

In her homily this morning, Sarah discussed ideas of home and what home can mean for different people, and all the tiny constituents which make home so home-ish--the smells, the feelings, the people. And walking through Albany Park again felt so undeniably home-y. I guess I didn't realize that when I call Chicago "home," I am thinking of Albany Park. I am thinking of falafel fresh out of the oil vat, Ecuadorian bachata blaring as I walk to the El station, Korean newspaper stands and all the baklava bakeries I could ever want--Al-Khaymeh, Holy Land Sweets, Jaafer Sweets, Nazareth Sweets.

My neighbors remembered me: Nacho the pita-baking Mexican asked how I had been--I haven't seen this guy in over a year but he remembers my name; his hair has grown. Sayyid from Salam still knows my order (small hummus, extra khubz--"pita") and gave me free falafel; "My boss doesn't know" he whispered with a wink. The couple who owns that wild Latin Catholic-magic store with all the saint statues were still watching the same telenovela they were watching last time I came in months ago, and helped me find a Virgen de Guadalupe candle for my mantle.

Now I won't be taking out hummus and shwarma but rather coconut curry, and Ethiopian dishes I have yet to learn how to pronounce. I love my new neighborhood and I can't wait until I can claim it as my home--have MY coffee shop, MY grocery store, MY Indian place (there are literally dozens to choose from)--but going "home" to crinkly rusty old Albany Park is so, so sweet. As is this baklava from Jaafer Sweets I am devouring like it's my last meal.

2. Church felt joyful today. And I felt joyful on a post-church excursion to Tyler and Kelli's to see their new dining room painted dreamsicle orange with light grey trim. "Whaaaa?" you say. But it works, and beautifully. They let me borrow The Omnivore's Dilemma, which I fully expect to change my life, and gave me back my beloved Book of Common Prayer which already changed my life a few years ago.

3. Barah Sauer drove me home last night, a huge relief from the otherwise 2.5 buses I would have had to take at 1:46am. She laughed at me and I laughed at myself and we listened to Regina Spektor really loudly and sang really loudly and everything about it was cherished.

No. 33

1. I found a lovely coffee shop two blocks from my new apartment, offering free wi-fi, Intelligentsia coffee, and pretzel-chocolate cookies from Southport Grocery which are one of my many weaknesses. I am happy to report the barista and I had winning rapport, and there are reading lamps at every table.

2. G-Chatting, mid-crisis, and Jon says: "What gives me hope for you is that you by nature do so many things so very right, habitually. So, I don't know when the awful's gonna end, but I have all kinds of faith that you'll come out the otherside, and better than before."

3. I read an interview with John Krasinski who described Alexi Murdoch's soundtrack for "Away We Go" as "very melancholy but so sweet." I feel like this is how my entire life is. It's encouraging to have it validated in this way...that melancholy but sweet things have value exactly as they are, for exactly what they are.

No. 32

1. Today's weather was so fall-like, so Seattle-like. I wore my knit beret which my mother sent all the way from our Ellicott City shoe closet for my ears, and delighted in apple pie with Ellen on the top floor of a well-worn, creaky-cozy coffee shop where drizzle collected elegantly on the windowpane adjacent to our table as we talked and laughed loudly.

2. Text message: "I am wherever you are."

3. I read this in the introduction to a book I am reading, written by a female rabbi:

Beloved of my soul, compassionate parent, draw Your servant to Your will. Let your servant run like a gazelle to bow down before Your splendor. Let Your affection be sweeter than honeycomb or any other taste. Splendorous one, most beautiful radiance of the world, my soul is sick with love for you.

This is a medieval poem sung in Hebrew during Shabbat liturgy.