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Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
cbertsch
Landslide Brought Me
After I dropped Skylar off at school Friday morning, I decided to do something for myself, something selfish even. Kim needed to sleep without potential distractions anyway. And I didn"t need to be back to get Skylar until after 2. I decided to do the thing that is so easy for residents of Tucson to do, yet which doesn"t get done enough. I drove up the Mount Lemmon Highway to Marshall Gulch near the top, then started hiking on the Aspen Trail. I realized, though, that I didn"t really have time to go far on the trail and also that my Vans would kill my feet if I walked a long ways. But there were rocks to clamber up nearby, the sort for which having worn-thin rubber soles is an advantage. So that"s what I did. I picked my way up the slope and managed to get myself up on top of the biggest boulder in my immediate vicinity, where I then hung out for an hour taking in the view, photographing, writing in my journal and eating the Newman"s Own Organic Ginger Mints that I am utterly addicted to at present. It was a real treat. My spirit felt reinivgorated and my body, especially my ankles and feet, were happy for the exercise I got making my way up and then, more laboriously, down. The subject header here invokes the Fleetwood Mac song, which is one of my all-time favorites. On the drive up I l had listened to the excellent new compilation of covers Just Tell Me That You Want Me: A Fleetwood Mac Tribute, which features a superb version of Landslide by Antony of Antony and Johnsons. The lyrics always hit home for me, but never more than now, when I am struggling to move on with my life in a grown-up way, despite a whole lot of heartbreak part of me is clinging to with extreme tenacity.

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