I like to prowl oridnary places
and taste the people-
from a distance.
I don't want them too near
because that's when attrition
starts..
but in supermarkets
laundromats
cafes
street corners
bus stops
eating places
drug stores
I can look at their bodies
and their faces
and their clothing-
watch the way they walk
or stand
or what they are doing.
I'm like an x-ray machine
I like them like that:
on view.
I imagine the best things
about them.
I imagine them brave and crazy
I imagine them beautiful.
I like to prowl ordinary places.
I feel sorry for us all or glad for us
all
caught alive together
and awkward in that way.
there's nothing better than the joke
of us
the seriousness of us
the dullness of us
buying stockings and carrots and gum
and magazines
buying birth control
candy
hair spray
and toilet paper.
we should build a great bonfire
we should congratulate ourselves on our
endurance
we stand in long lines
we walk about
we wait.
I like to prowl ordinary places
the people explain themselves to me
and I to them
a woman at 3:35 p.m.
weighing purple grapes on a scale
looking at that scale very
seriously
she is dressed in a simple green dress
with a pattern of white flowers
she takes the grapes
puts them carefully into a white paper
bag
that's lightning enough
the generals and the doctors may kill us
but we have
won.
-Bukowski
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Michael Jordan quote of the day.
I like Michael Jordan. I like that he is good at basketball. I liked him in Space Jams. I liked him in the Hanes underwear commercials and Saturday Night Live. He is a nice man and a pretty man and he says wise stuff a lot.
I have missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I have lost almost 300 games. On 26 occasions I have been entrusted to take the game winning shot... and missed. And I have failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.
- Michael Jordan. (I love you.)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
One good day can lead to another.
"I worry about you."
"What do you mean?"
"I worry that you aren't happy. That you're not okay."
"...I'm okay."
[Am I really that obvious?]
"What do you mean?"
"I worry that you aren't happy. That you're not okay."
"...I'm okay."
[Am I really that obvious?]
Friday, August 14, 2009
Favorite Mistake.
J was my first kiss. We were in 1st grade. During recess we hid behind a bush on the playground, quickly did the daunting deed, then promptly ran away. blushing. giggling. no one knew our secret. I did not tell my mother. I didn't see J much until I transferred to his high school. He was wearing eyeliner. He did not sit at my table. His table was worlds away.
K was my best friend in 4th grade. He lived down the street. He had a sega. and a basement. My mom and His dad became friends. We would go boating. eat dinner together. K was in my class at school. Our classmates told us we were boyfriend girlfriend. Told us we were going to get married...I just wanted to play sonic the hedgehog. One day at recess an impromptu wedding was held on the kickball field. I was 10 years old and betrothed. Later K moved across town. My mom was no longer "friends" with K's dad. We didn't eat dinner together anymore.
Miranda and her brother came to my elementary school in 5th grade. We shared the same bus stop. Their mom worked at Johnson's Corner. World Famous Cinamon rolls. Her brother was a year older. We became "bus friends." We got pink slips together for sticking our legs in the aisle. He was my boyfriend for 2 days. Then my grandma drove me to school.
A asked Aurielle out in middle school. She said no. So he asked me. "I guess." It was settled. We held hands at lunch with the other couples. sweaty palms. looking opposite directions. He gave me a necklace for Valentine's Day. We had our first kiss at the spring dance. Mallory and Nick stood next to us and laughed. They "french kissed." we did not. I do not remember our "breakup." probably in a note.
L was quiet. When he spoke, he was very funny. funny in a way most people didn't get. Funny like you couldn't tell if he was joking, but you laughed nervously anyway. just in case. He reminded me of Jimmy Neutron. He played guitar. He made me nervous. but a good nervous. Every conversation was deep and meaningful. His mother didn't understand him. His father didn't love him. I understood him. But I did not love him. He was the first boy to tell me they loved me. I laughed and told him he didn't. I broke up with L on the phone. My 2 best friends sat with me as I read the list I had prepared with reasons I had to end things. I was transferring high schools and needed a fresh start. We kept in touch. for a while. I heard he got married last summer. She probably said, "I love you too."
The next J was Alex's best friend. Alex dated my best friend, Casey. Casey told J to take me to Homecoming so we could double. One day, I walked into the parking lot and my car was covered in toilet paper. On the window it said, "If you gotta go, you gotta go, and you should go with ME!" I couldn't pass up on good toilet humor, so I said yes.
He brought me a corsage. He shook as he pinned it on my dress. I think he touched my boob on accident. He was nervous. I was nervous.
We began dating soon after the dance. I was infatuated. literally so in love, it hurt. We spent every moment together. He worked at big city burritto. I ate a lot of burritos. I told him my secrets. He told me he loved me. I loved him too.
He was the first boy I let see me cry.
A year and half later. We fought more. We harbored resentment. We became crutches for eachother. We lost our friends. We were no longer kind.
We let the thought of breaking up swirl around in our head. We said it aloud. We broke up.
I was lost.
I went to college. I was depresses. I was lonely. I missed my friends. my home. my mom. him.
My roomates went out. Went to parties. I stayed in my room. Watched cable. counted the seconds until I could drive the 3 hours home.
At semester a new school. That should do the trick. I forced myself to go out. I went to parties. I played the role of college girl. I went on dates. I tried to be normal.
Then he called. I heard his voice. It was the same. I wanted something familiar. I wanted him. But he did not want me. He wanted college. He wanted new friends, new experiences, new drugs, new him. I clung on to the hope that the old J was still in there. He was not.
I moved home. Commuted to school. Appreciated my mother. School. work. home. I needed routine. I needed stability. I needed to let go. But before I could. he called again. We got coffee. I visited him at his new house. He kissed me. I wanted to cry. I thought things would be better.perfect again. But he only wanted me when he wanted me. And that was few and far between. Still I waited. I came when he called. I left when I could tell he was bored. I waited. Until I could't wait any more.
He told me he was afraid of getting back together. We stood on the corner of 13th and Grant and I cried. Cars whizzed by. People cautiously glanced as they walked past. They knew the drill. Young love. heartbreak. It happens every day. It hurt like Hell. I finally let go.
I moved out. Moved to Denver. New city. New job. New school. New friends. New life. I was terrified. But I was happy. I dropped my phone. Got a new phone. Changed my number and deleted his. I felt strong. But I had not dated since high school. I didn't know how to play the game. I didn't want to play the game, to sell myself to someone. Like me like me! that was not for me.
H was a friend of mine at work. He oozed confidence, bordering on narcissism. Sometimes he was just a jerk. He fascinated me. I had never met someone so sure of themselves. I missed the days when I was confident in myself. Love and loss has a way of tearing that from a person. One night he asked me to coffee. I felt completely platonic towards him. I hadn't been on a date since J. I said ok. He was smooth. I was naive. He made me feel special. I realized that there could be life after J. I knew H was moving, so I kept my guard up. I wasn't ready for another loss.
But I was swept off my feet. I didn't know what I was doing. But he sure seemed to,and it felt nice to let someone else take the lead. I practically moved in to his apartment. He drove me to work. to school. he watched football while I did my homework. He made me delicious food. got me hooked on coffee. We talked about life. We talked about what we wanted to do, to become. I actually felt safe.
He was moving.
One night he told me, "Why don't you ask me to stay?"
I laughed. I told him he would resent me.
Then he moved.
We half-heartedly kept in touch. I think he got back with his ex-girlfriend.
I drove myself to school and work. Did my homework in the library. Ordered triple grande nonfat mochas by myself. And let another one go.
Z also worked with me, and quickly became my best friend. He understood me. He was a genuinely good person. Maybe the most genuine I had ever met. I could be me around him. I could snort when i laughed, whine about mundane things. even cry when my printer broke on the night before a huge paper was due. We became quite inseparable. After work we didn't need to even ask what the other was doing. It was assumed we would be doing something. most likely getting cookies and cocoa at a vegan cafe on the same street where J broke my heart.
I thought we were best friends. He had other intentions. When he realized I only wanted friendship, he no longer stuck around. That hurt almost worse then some of my breakups. I lost my best friend. Z doesn't much speak to me these days. mumbles a hello at work. No more late night coffee. No more dinners. No more snorting when I laugh. In all honesty, he was probably perfect for me.
N was a player. Smooth talker like H. He made girls blush, even swoon. But they all knew he said the same thing to every girl. I knew. I kept him at a distance. A little harmless flirting, but nothing more. He drank. he smoked. he partied. he went through girls like water. I kept my distance. Then he decided he would "change his ways." sobered up. We became friends. He told me he liked being sober. I liked him sober too. I let myself believe that this was the real N. If he would just stay clean stay sober, I could give it a go.
We were ridiculously cute. a little nauseating even. and I loved it. sushi dates, bowling, deep conversations. Then slowly he started drinking again. And He was no longer N. I tried to stay. tried to be there for him when he drank too much, when he got too rowdy, when he got depressed. I was losing myself. Too busy trying to fix him to notice that I was falling apart. One day he told me he bought a one way ticket back home to California. he was leaving the next day. I drove to his house. I cried. I knew he wasn't coming back. and he didn't.
Some of them I no longer speak to. Some of them come in and out of my life. Days, weeks, months of time go by, and the phone will ring. I delete numbers and add them again. I forgive as best I can. I let the hurt subside. I appreciate the lessons learned. My views of “love” are constantly changing, morphing after every heartbreak and loss. Love is not a contest. A competition to see how long you can keep someone interested. Love does not require you to change who you are. To become an image of what someone else wants. Love is not sex. Love is not “fixing” someone, taking on their burdens and pains. And forgetting who you are. Love is not one way tickets and unanswered phone calls. Love is not a text message at 3 in the morning. It is none of these things we sometimes believe, and I am not sure what love really is, but I think it feels something like snorting when you laugh.
K was my best friend in 4th grade. He lived down the street. He had a sega. and a basement. My mom and His dad became friends. We would go boating. eat dinner together. K was in my class at school. Our classmates told us we were boyfriend girlfriend. Told us we were going to get married...I just wanted to play sonic the hedgehog. One day at recess an impromptu wedding was held on the kickball field. I was 10 years old and betrothed. Later K moved across town. My mom was no longer "friends" with K's dad. We didn't eat dinner together anymore.
Miranda and her brother came to my elementary school in 5th grade. We shared the same bus stop. Their mom worked at Johnson's Corner. World Famous Cinamon rolls. Her brother was a year older. We became "bus friends." We got pink slips together for sticking our legs in the aisle. He was my boyfriend for 2 days. Then my grandma drove me to school.
A asked Aurielle out in middle school. She said no. So he asked me. "I guess." It was settled. We held hands at lunch with the other couples. sweaty palms. looking opposite directions. He gave me a necklace for Valentine's Day. We had our first kiss at the spring dance. Mallory and Nick stood next to us and laughed. They "french kissed." we did not. I do not remember our "breakup." probably in a note.
L was quiet. When he spoke, he was very funny. funny in a way most people didn't get. Funny like you couldn't tell if he was joking, but you laughed nervously anyway. just in case. He reminded me of Jimmy Neutron. He played guitar. He made me nervous. but a good nervous. Every conversation was deep and meaningful. His mother didn't understand him. His father didn't love him. I understood him. But I did not love him. He was the first boy to tell me they loved me. I laughed and told him he didn't. I broke up with L on the phone. My 2 best friends sat with me as I read the list I had prepared with reasons I had to end things. I was transferring high schools and needed a fresh start. We kept in touch. for a while. I heard he got married last summer. She probably said, "I love you too."
The next J was Alex's best friend. Alex dated my best friend, Casey. Casey told J to take me to Homecoming so we could double. One day, I walked into the parking lot and my car was covered in toilet paper. On the window it said, "If you gotta go, you gotta go, and you should go with ME!" I couldn't pass up on good toilet humor, so I said yes.
He brought me a corsage. He shook as he pinned it on my dress. I think he touched my boob on accident. He was nervous. I was nervous.
We began dating soon after the dance. I was infatuated. literally so in love, it hurt. We spent every moment together. He worked at big city burritto. I ate a lot of burritos. I told him my secrets. He told me he loved me. I loved him too.
He was the first boy I let see me cry.
A year and half later. We fought more. We harbored resentment. We became crutches for eachother. We lost our friends. We were no longer kind.
We let the thought of breaking up swirl around in our head. We said it aloud. We broke up.
I was lost.
I went to college. I was depresses. I was lonely. I missed my friends. my home. my mom. him.
My roomates went out. Went to parties. I stayed in my room. Watched cable. counted the seconds until I could drive the 3 hours home.
At semester a new school. That should do the trick. I forced myself to go out. I went to parties. I played the role of college girl. I went on dates. I tried to be normal.
Then he called. I heard his voice. It was the same. I wanted something familiar. I wanted him. But he did not want me. He wanted college. He wanted new friends, new experiences, new drugs, new him. I clung on to the hope that the old J was still in there. He was not.
I moved home. Commuted to school. Appreciated my mother. School. work. home. I needed routine. I needed stability. I needed to let go. But before I could. he called again. We got coffee. I visited him at his new house. He kissed me. I wanted to cry. I thought things would be better.perfect again. But he only wanted me when he wanted me. And that was few and far between. Still I waited. I came when he called. I left when I could tell he was bored. I waited. Until I could't wait any more.
He told me he was afraid of getting back together. We stood on the corner of 13th and Grant and I cried. Cars whizzed by. People cautiously glanced as they walked past. They knew the drill. Young love. heartbreak. It happens every day. It hurt like Hell. I finally let go.
I moved out. Moved to Denver. New city. New job. New school. New friends. New life. I was terrified. But I was happy. I dropped my phone. Got a new phone. Changed my number and deleted his. I felt strong. But I had not dated since high school. I didn't know how to play the game. I didn't want to play the game, to sell myself to someone. Like me like me! that was not for me.
H was a friend of mine at work. He oozed confidence, bordering on narcissism. Sometimes he was just a jerk. He fascinated me. I had never met someone so sure of themselves. I missed the days when I was confident in myself. Love and loss has a way of tearing that from a person. One night he asked me to coffee. I felt completely platonic towards him. I hadn't been on a date since J. I said ok. He was smooth. I was naive. He made me feel special. I realized that there could be life after J. I knew H was moving, so I kept my guard up. I wasn't ready for another loss.
But I was swept off my feet. I didn't know what I was doing. But he sure seemed to,and it felt nice to let someone else take the lead. I practically moved in to his apartment. He drove me to work. to school. he watched football while I did my homework. He made me delicious food. got me hooked on coffee. We talked about life. We talked about what we wanted to do, to become. I actually felt safe.
He was moving.
One night he told me, "Why don't you ask me to stay?"
I laughed. I told him he would resent me.
Then he moved.
We half-heartedly kept in touch. I think he got back with his ex-girlfriend.
I drove myself to school and work. Did my homework in the library. Ordered triple grande nonfat mochas by myself. And let another one go.
Z also worked with me, and quickly became my best friend. He understood me. He was a genuinely good person. Maybe the most genuine I had ever met. I could be me around him. I could snort when i laughed, whine about mundane things. even cry when my printer broke on the night before a huge paper was due. We became quite inseparable. After work we didn't need to even ask what the other was doing. It was assumed we would be doing something. most likely getting cookies and cocoa at a vegan cafe on the same street where J broke my heart.
I thought we were best friends. He had other intentions. When he realized I only wanted friendship, he no longer stuck around. That hurt almost worse then some of my breakups. I lost my best friend. Z doesn't much speak to me these days. mumbles a hello at work. No more late night coffee. No more dinners. No more snorting when I laugh. In all honesty, he was probably perfect for me.
N was a player. Smooth talker like H. He made girls blush, even swoon. But they all knew he said the same thing to every girl. I knew. I kept him at a distance. A little harmless flirting, but nothing more. He drank. he smoked. he partied. he went through girls like water. I kept my distance. Then he decided he would "change his ways." sobered up. We became friends. He told me he liked being sober. I liked him sober too. I let myself believe that this was the real N. If he would just stay clean stay sober, I could give it a go.
We were ridiculously cute. a little nauseating even. and I loved it. sushi dates, bowling, deep conversations. Then slowly he started drinking again. And He was no longer N. I tried to stay. tried to be there for him when he drank too much, when he got too rowdy, when he got depressed. I was losing myself. Too busy trying to fix him to notice that I was falling apart. One day he told me he bought a one way ticket back home to California. he was leaving the next day. I drove to his house. I cried. I knew he wasn't coming back. and he didn't.
Some of them I no longer speak to. Some of them come in and out of my life. Days, weeks, months of time go by, and the phone will ring. I delete numbers and add them again. I forgive as best I can. I let the hurt subside. I appreciate the lessons learned. My views of “love” are constantly changing, morphing after every heartbreak and loss. Love is not a contest. A competition to see how long you can keep someone interested. Love does not require you to change who you are. To become an image of what someone else wants. Love is not sex. Love is not “fixing” someone, taking on their burdens and pains. And forgetting who you are. Love is not one way tickets and unanswered phone calls. Love is not a text message at 3 in the morning. It is none of these things we sometimes believe, and I am not sure what love really is, but I think it feels something like snorting when you laugh.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Doing Thangs!
I forgot that I am determined not to let this blog turn into another sappy version of the livejournal high school days where all of girls would just write about how hard our silly little lives were growing up in middle-class suburbia:) that being said, I though I would chronicle my day that may possibly go down in history as the most boring, lazy, and overall least productive day....
-sleep till 11:00 (when i first got here I was waking up at 7 every day to go jogging. ha)
- eat some baby carrots. (I have been living off of baby carrots, chocolate power bars, and grapefruit for the past few days.)
- prance around in my Huey Lewis T and undies listening to Fugazi...until I come to the conclusion that Kav and Ang's neighbors have probably seen me in my underwear or naked far too many times on this trip.
- take stupid pictures of myself on photobooth
- lay in the backyard and pretend i am at the beach:(...run inside when I see creepy construction workers through the fence.
- call mother and whine a little
- creep the space.
- read read read (Bright Shiny Morning- I'd highly recommend it!)
- make a life plan. hahah. silly me allllwaayyys plannnnning.
- have the best heart to heart with my bff.
- eat a grapefruit!
- Listen to Flaming lips and blog my life away.
Yes, I am quite convinced this may indeed be the least productive, but somehow ok day I have had in a while:) But I must say i am ready to have my car back! I may just have to take little Mimi out on all day drive when i get home just to reconnect! Although the 15 hour rode trip may make me change my mind. Fingers crossed we don't kill each other on the way home:)
Everyday it's getting faster. A love like yours will surely come my way.
I think that we all have those people in our life that are put there because you really just wouldn't be complete until you met them, until you gained insight from them, until you loved them, until you lost them, until you found them again.
I think we are lucky if we find just one of these people in a lifetime- perhaps some have more, and perhaps some never find those people at all. Maybe they are afraid. Afraid to be vulnerable? Afraid to put that much trust, that much of themselves into another person? Or afraid of the pain that might come when that person is no longer in their lives?
Being carless here in sunnny Pasadena has given me the time I have so desperately craved these past few months to just sit quietly in my own thoughts. To look at my current situation, to really dig deep and figure out if i am on the right track, where I want to be going, how I am going to get there, the people I should be surrounding myself with, and perhaps those that I should let go from my life as well.
Life is not black and white. I am learning to grow from the gray areas.
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