have those moments where you think "Geeez - I SUCK"
Yeah, me too.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
I Worry
like it's going out of style there's only one left hanging on the sale rack and if I don't grab it I will have nothing to wear.
I worry about people like a turtle carries its shell.
Like cherries hug their pits Like bananas sleep in a peel
Like gravel gets stuck in tiny groove-mazes carpeting tires
Like jeans post-pushed in a pool become twenty pounds more & with every bend of a knee feels like your body is slowly turning to cement.
I worry about the people I care for more
than forest fires turn trees into chewed tobacco.
More than Marilyn Monroe wanted true love More than Joe DiMaggio tried to love her
More than indoor lighting gives moths window-bruised foreheads
More than a cat hates to be on a leash.
I worry about the people I love
As I'm falling asleep As I'm brushing my teeth As I'm making a right hand turn into my neighborhood & my blinker is ticking off every minute I haven't told this person or that person how much they mean to me & how I wouldn't be able to breathe if I lost them
As I'm walking from the kitchen into the front yard, a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand, key to the mailbox in the other, wondering if maybe today I'll have a letter waiting from you, or wondering if tomorrow you'll wake up & realize you no longer want to know the sound of my laugh.
I've tried to get comfortable in this t-shirt of emotional discomfort, sleeves too tight on my shoulders, but I'm worried that if I DO get comfortable I'll forget how lucky I am to have people I love to the point of worrying
like it's going out of style.
I worry about people like a turtle carries its shell.
Like cherries hug their pits Like bananas sleep in a peel
Like gravel gets stuck in tiny groove-mazes carpeting tires
Like jeans post-pushed in a pool become twenty pounds more & with every bend of a knee feels like your body is slowly turning to cement.
I worry about the people I care for more
than forest fires turn trees into chewed tobacco.
More than Marilyn Monroe wanted true love More than Joe DiMaggio tried to love her
More than indoor lighting gives moths window-bruised foreheads
More than a cat hates to be on a leash.
I worry about the people I love
As I'm falling asleep As I'm brushing my teeth As I'm making a right hand turn into my neighborhood & my blinker is ticking off every minute I haven't told this person or that person how much they mean to me & how I wouldn't be able to breathe if I lost them
As I'm walking from the kitchen into the front yard, a cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand, key to the mailbox in the other, wondering if maybe today I'll have a letter waiting from you, or wondering if tomorrow you'll wake up & realize you no longer want to know the sound of my laugh.
I've tried to get comfortable in this t-shirt of emotional discomfort, sleeves too tight on my shoulders, but I'm worried that if I DO get comfortable I'll forget how lucky I am to have people I love to the point of worrying
like it's going out of style.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Going Postal
I stood in line at the crowded holiday post office. I had three manila envelopes in my arms, all stuffed with application material: letters, transcripts, portfolio, etc.
The woman in front of me had four boxes wedged against her body - a bright red sweater bunched awkwardly around her waist exposing two inches of flesh. I couldn't stop staring.
She must have felt this because suddenly she turned around, caught sight of my envelopes, asked, "You mailing Christmas stuff too?"
I shook my head, explained I was trying to meet application deadlines.
She craned her neck in order to read one of the school names. "Oh," she said with a scoff, "you do not want to go there."
Obviously I do if I'm currently holding an application in my hand. But instead I just asked, why.
"The weather is miserable, you'd hate it."
I.would.hate.it.
I would?
Have we met?
This prompted the woman behind me to pipe in, "My nephew goes there and loves it!"
These women started discussing the school and I found myself no longer included in the conversation.
I've had countless people ask me where I'm applying then promptly inform me where I should or should not attend. They always have "solid evidence" to back up their statements - ie:
Their governor is an idiot.
OR
I went there for vacation and they have the worst food imaginable.
OR
Good luck finding a decent husband.
Complete strangers informing me what I will like.
These two women, strangers, felt the need to look at me and explain what is best for me.
I feel sorry for whoever is on the receiving end of their gift boxes and Christmas cards. I can only imagine what's written inside - "You are just going to love this!"
The woman in front of me had four boxes wedged against her body - a bright red sweater bunched awkwardly around her waist exposing two inches of flesh. I couldn't stop staring.
She must have felt this because suddenly she turned around, caught sight of my envelopes, asked, "You mailing Christmas stuff too?"
I shook my head, explained I was trying to meet application deadlines.
She craned her neck in order to read one of the school names. "Oh," she said with a scoff, "you do not want to go there."
Obviously I do if I'm currently holding an application in my hand. But instead I just asked, why.
"The weather is miserable, you'd hate it."
I.would.hate.it.
I would?
Have we met?
This prompted the woman behind me to pipe in, "My nephew goes there and loves it!"
These women started discussing the school and I found myself no longer included in the conversation.
I've had countless people ask me where I'm applying then promptly inform me where I should or should not attend. They always have "solid evidence" to back up their statements - ie:
Their governor is an idiot.
OR
I went there for vacation and they have the worst food imaginable.
OR
Good luck finding a decent husband.
Complete strangers informing me what I will like.
These two women, strangers, felt the need to look at me and explain what is best for me.
I feel sorry for whoever is on the receiving end of their gift boxes and Christmas cards. I can only imagine what's written inside - "You are just going to love this!"
Saturday, December 26, 2009
My lovelife According to Disney?
shit's deep man....
You are:
BELLE
You are fiercely independent and loyal to those you love.
You have a tendency for stubbornness - this being a strength and a weakness
You are fearless when it comes to getting to know people.
You value intelligence and have no time for vanity, arrogance, or popular trends.
You will take personal risks for those you love.
Your Love Life:
You are drawn to complicated people, particularly those who may have a “wall”.
You aren’t swayed by physical appearance - you understand character lies within.
You tend to fall into relationships that are complex, difficult, and possibly dark.
You are:
BELLE
You are fiercely independent and loyal to those you love.
You have a tendency for stubbornness - this being a strength and a weakness
You are fearless when it comes to getting to know people.
You value intelligence and have no time for vanity, arrogance, or popular trends.
You will take personal risks for those you love.
Your Love Life:
You are drawn to complicated people, particularly those who may have a “wall”.
You aren’t swayed by physical appearance - you understand character lies within.
You tend to fall into relationships that are complex, difficult, and possibly dark.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
A Dublin Moment
National Museum (14:36)
Went to see the "bog people" today.
One of them
(a hand curled softly, fingernails
trimmed and real.
legs and head were gone
lost somewhere down there -
the skin darkened from
hundreds of years feet below
mud, water, silt, mud
but the hand still is curled
waiting, as if in sleep)
made me miss you.
If it rains here, it only lasts about 15mins
then the wind shoves it elsewhere (England?)
You would love it.
Bare feet near a back door, drops of water releasing themselves from the eave above
you loved it.
Went to see the "bog people" today.
One of them
(a hand curled softly, fingernails
trimmed and real.
legs and head were gone
lost somewhere down there -
the skin darkened from
hundreds of years feet below
mud, water, silt, mud
but the hand still is curled
waiting, as if in sleep)
made me miss you.
If it rains here, it only lasts about 15mins
then the wind shoves it elsewhere (England?)
You would love it.
Bare feet near a back door, drops of water releasing themselves from the eave above
you loved it.
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