Back from DC

I got back yesterday from DC, near where I used to live, actually.  It was odd to see my old house with the trees way overgrown.  I guess not overgrown, but grown more than when I lived there.  


My man was donating stem cells; that was the reason we were there.  My boyfriend donated stem cells to a lady with non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.  We don't really know who she was, not that it matters.  I'm sure he would have given them to anybody.  But what wasn't really clear was how crappy it was going to make him feel.  He was really hurting all week.  Can you believe it though?  His unit asked him if it was "mandatory" that he go and do this for somebody.  Ugh.  When he told me that, I wanted to kick his collective unit in the head.  Granted, his chaplain apparently got teary-eyed when he told him about it.  At least somebody understands the sacrifice he was making.  I'm sure that my man would have rather not felt like complete crap for a week, and then probably two weeks from now.  Lots of drugs and hormones. 


I also got to spend some time with my best friend from kindergarten.  That's right, from 1988.  We've literally known each other for 22 years.  Probably closer to 23.  Maybe it is 23... Eh.  When we were kids we wrote stories.  That's what they were called: "the stories."  And I think I lost one of them.  Oh Budget Rent a Car. You suck so bad.  Now, normally, I wouldn't blame them.  I left something in the car.  I'm the idiot.  However, they've been giving me the run around.  What the heck?  We called four times last night.  I mean, really, they should have been able to find it, it was on the back seat.  But it was my fault.  As punishment, my best friend informed me I'd have to rewrite it.  If only!  So, I will instead write on the new story I've been dreaming about.  I do someday want to be a writer.  I have had this one story in my mind a long time, maybe it will finally come to fruition.  


I think I'm going to read some more Rumi.  I've heard that Rumi makes you a better writer.  He, back in the 13th century, wrote some intense stuff down.  I have come across so many awesome quotes in his poetry, and I've only been reading it for a day or so.  I am so a fan.  This is one called "The Road Home":

An ant hurries along a threshing floor

with its wheat grain, moving between huge stacks
of wheat, not knowing the abundance
all around. It thinks one grain
is all there is to love.

So we choose a tiny seed to be devoted to.
This body, one path, or one teacher.
Look wider and farther.

The essence of every human being can see,
and what that essence-eye takes in,
the being becomes. Saturn. Solomon!

The ocean pours through a jar,
and you might say it swims inside
the fish! This mystery gives peace to
your longing and makes the road home home.

I love the last bit. I don't always interpret poetry right.  But Rumi isn't really around to ask what he meant for sure.  I know the world he lived in was not like it is today.  I mean, most people died early they had to walk everywhere or, I don't know, ride a camel maybe in this case.  

Camels are huge, by the way.