i’m sitting in my tidy, narrow bedroom, typing on a borrowed ibook, trying to write what you’re reading: my final rawr post. i don’t feel ready to write it, nor do i feel up to writing it well. conclusions have always been a weakness. i once received a paper back from a favorite professor with this comment: “mostly strong piece. i regret you apparently wrote the last bit during the walk to hand it in.” but a conclusion can’t help but conclude, even if it’s a bit crap.

mhhm, i like this room. it’s smaller than most in the co-op, making me think it must have been allotted to a junior nun—or a particularly pious, worldy-goods-shunning nun—when this building was in its original use. there’s just enough space for a single bed and slim desk and dresser. all my stuff fits easily. i seldom seek solitude, but it’s a gift to have it on demand.

i hung a small, framed photograph above the dresser. it shows someone in a long dark coat and light beret flashing the peace sign in front of the statue of liberty. everyone seeing the picture for the first time says something along the lines of:

“this is neat. hey, wait a minute. that’s not you—it’s john lennon! whoa, it looked just like you at first!” and, you know, it really does. i sure don’t mind the mix-up.

sunday nights are bustling around stone soup co-op. we all have chores to own up to (mine this week was to clean out our communal fridge—i found some shockingly liquefied cabbage) and then share a tummy-rubbing meal at 5:30. in my sixth month here, i’m as comfortable and contented as i’ve been yet. i’ve made two handfuls of wonderful friends, plus a few worthy enemies. while whine-pining for my own place, to share with only my lover, i’ll miss the easy fellowship and enjoyable weirdness of this place. i’m not sure what i would have done without the chance to live here.

as for the leaving of it: kim and i have our pair of hearts settled on settling in pilsen. it’s a neighborhood i’ve always wanted to live in—and it seems a good idea to start our american life together some place to which i don’t already have specific stories and memories attached. pilsen is unabashedly urban, a neighborhood with its own essence and beauty. and cheap-ass flats.

it will also be a tolerably short drive to my library. turns out, as outreach co-ordinator for children’s services (whoo-hoo!), i’ll need a motor to deliver storytimes to daycares and schools all over oak park. thankfully, my stepdad has made a car for me. a 91 teal-blue jetta ain’t exactly a leoninely cool car, but i gratefully plan to work it.

i’m listening to oldies while writing this. how humbling to realize i know every word to crystal blue persuasion.

anyway, yes yessidy yes, kim will be here soon. how many times have i uttered/written/sworn/pondered that? we just need to convince one branch of the federal government to accept the official documents of another before he can finally interview for his visa. then he’ll just quit his job, gather up his life, self, and gritty, and fly to north america. piece of cake. really fucking frustrating cake.

at least i’m well distracted by my new job. it’s turned out even better than i’d (wildy) anticipated. and it’s in the effort to re-focus on becoming a librarian worthy of such a fantastic place that i’ve decided to stop blogging. [i’m reluctant to even mention it—for fear of disappointing myself, mostly—but i also hope that 2006 will be the year i finish writing a children’s book.]

it hasn’t been an easy decision to stop blogging. though it’s been hard in the last couple of cold, unsure months to get myself to post, for three years i’ve depended on rawr to be a wide-open space. an exercise to keep the parts of my brain in charge of writing reasonably stretched-out. a way to keep interested souls updated and connected. a way to

RAWR!!!
RAWR!!!
RAWR!!!

thank you so much for reading.