my my and mooses.

so i finally did it. i became a driver, and regretfully i won't be using the phrase "i'm a pedastrian" with as much enthusiam as i often did.
so i'm cruising down the highway tonight on my way home from work in the pitch black (4:30 pm, mind you), concerned more about my descending speed needle and my cautious, "fine buddy, drive as angry as you want behind me but i'm new at this so i'm not going any faster" attitude, when i notice flickering light from the headlights in front of me.

this can only mean one thing: there's something in the middle of the road.

as i slam on my breaks and thank god that it's not as slippery as it was yesterday, I realize that this is no deer. it's a big fucking moose.
okay, it wasn't that big. but even the small ones are massive. as it's just taking it's time across the road, i reflect upon the fact that god was trying to kill me on only my second day in the race.

thanks alot, guy, it sounds like a great idea. but i think i wanna hang around here a little longer. at least until i get to see my siblings again.

reflections of a lost soul.

i used to write.
more poetically, more profoundly, more often.

i clearly see several contributing factors to my absence:
the pathetic decline of my vocabulary and spelling abilities since leaving college.
the change of pace in my everyday life. motivation makes things happen. simple times call for simple measures.
i no longer feel as though i have an audience. and if i do still have an audience, i probably wouldn't recognize them if i saw them.

any of these hindrances are conquerable. a little discipline and "practice makes perfect" attitude could put me back in the game.

but what worries me,
what really scares me,
is perhaps that i see the world differently than i used to.
i'm jaded.
i'm tired.
i'm dead to the simple pleasures and easy joys i used to love about the world.
a shadow on the wall of lace curtains cast by moonlight seems lost on me now.

most of the time.

i hate the fact that half of my family lives in ireland. sure, the world is smaller today than it has ever been, but i often feel way farther than just a phone call away.

we are all missing out on so much. i guess i am just disappointed. i'd always thought these would be the years my little sister and i were going to live in the same apartment, have the same friends, and take care of each other. when my brother would be a raging success in a major u.s. city, and we would talk twice a week about girls and school and seeing each other soon.

i feel absolutely worthless with the realization that i can do nothing for the them from here. i feel like i am dining at a table that's missing its legs. and it won't even be repaired for the holidays.



woah. . .did someone say emo?

it's out there.

the moon is so bright on my
pillow tonight
that it's keeping me awake.
either that or the stinging pain
in my temples.

the moon or all of life's big questions
being shouted at me from the depths of my
own head
the brightness of the moon or the terror in
my heart.

have i done something wrong?
have i done something wrong?

baby it's too late.

and i am tired.
i spent all night making paper flowers, just wondering how many more nights i have to waste before i matter again.
waking up in the morning is so depressing. luckily, if i sleep all day, night shows up faster and i feel better sooner. i have come to the conclusion that daylight was just not designed with me in mind. thanks alot, god.

"I R stuck in park."
is what my uncle used to say.
i certainly feel that way now.

there are things i want to talk about. opportunities that i want to take. and i can't seem to find the right mountain to stand on so that everyone can hear when i cup my hands over my mouth and just yell.
not to mention. . .it really sucks knowing that i can't call up jimmy john's now (at one in the morning) and bribe them with jello shots and weed to ensure that my sandwich arrives before noon the next day. hypothetically speaking, of course.


i miss my life.

why am i the angriest person in america right now?

oh yeah, because the political season is in full swing right now.

it began with CNN breaking the news that the 2008 Republican National Convention will be held in the Twin Cities.
so I submitted the following commentary to Minnesota Public Radio:

When Wolf Blitzer first announced this news, I thought my head and heart might explode.
How low is the GOP going to go, invading a blue state like this?, I thought. Granted we are closer to lavender than we've ever been before, but I was hoping 2008 would be the year DFLers get back on our feet, and swing the state back into the realm of Deep Ultramarine where we belong. How can we do that now? With the likes of Tim Pawlenty and Norm Coleman convincing the Twin Cities that we should be proud to have the "most powerful people in the world" here in St. Paul?

I'm not convinced.

So I turned to the bright side of things. Perhaps the reality of watching well-known Conservative leaders take over the Twin Cities for four summer days in 2008 will help to unify the Democrats, Independents, Green Party, and others to keep our state from becoming a Republican stronghold. Over the years, we've enjoyed the luxury of having political options; the Green Party has gained adequate recognition in Minnesota over the last few years because of the DFL's precedence in matters such as environmental protection and education.
These are the the issues that should and will solidify the success of a progressive, non-Republican win for Minnesota in 2008, in spite of George W. Bush and the GOP National Convention.

Immediately upon finishing this statement, CNN breaks another story:
"House passes bill allowing Immunity to Bush Administration regarding International War Crimes."
oh, how wonderful.
the senate votes on it tomorrow. it can't possibly pass, can it?



right now i am sort of wondering if i will be dead in a few more months. or if the world will be dead because of the people in charge of it--who are supposed to be taking care of it. you can sure bet that i'm not going without a fight. i don't care that September 2008 is still two years away, i'm ready to march around the Xcel Energy Center hoisting signs in all my liberal glory.

i think the thing you said is true.

none of this makes any sense.
i see so clearly how to make my way out.

but there's so much holding me back.
most of it is on the surface,
most of it doesn't matter at all,
some of it matters everything.
and to make it worse

i think that you've fallen out of love with me.

boof.

BOOF ('büf): verb
1. to pitch an amazing game in major league baseball; to lead one's team to easily clinch a playoff spot in the postseason.
"With help from Torii Hunter, Joe Mauer, Jason Tyner, and Nick Punto, the Minnesota Twins BOOFED their way past Kansas City tonight to win the AL Wild Card Race."


2. to flounder miserably in one's debut year in major laegue baseball; to fail so deeply that fans would forever use one's name to describe a big loss.
"Way to BOOF it out there on the mound today, Johan."


Lucky for us, Boof Bonser did a fantastic job out there tonight, and we don't ever have to use that second definition.

escapism.

it's all about getting out.
that's everything to me.
all these leaps and bounds seem exhausting, though!
if i wasn't so well-adjusted, i wonder what i would be doing now.
who i would be seeing, how i would be feeling today?

"i've been so damn tired."

at night, i can't sleep.
i've backtracked every step i've taken in the last three weeks.
some of them i would step on differently, and others i wouldn't change for the world. all of them, i would have thought about more before taking.

or maybe that's my problem. maybe i've been thinking too much.
if i wasn't such a fucking scared little girl about everything, i wouldn't have to overthink everything.
logistics and statistics.
they will be my end.

"i'm guess i'm just a worrier. that's why my friends call me whiskers."
ah. . .yes. i remember.

i feel better.

the winds of change are sure taking me on a whirl of a journey lately.
but today i achieved everything i set out to do. those long-term worries that have been nagging at me everyday from the back of my mind.
i'm shooting down the demons one by one.


soon, i will be where i want to be.

someone tell me what to do

because i am having my doubts.

doubts about my integrity and what i deserve.
doubts about my ability and ambitions for success.
doubts about my responsibilities and willingness to endure.

life.

i am afraid. and i don't know how not to be.
does everybody feel this way?
please, somebody, tell me what to do with myself.

if you didn't know yet, let me tell you now

i'm starting over.

riding the wake.

i am compelled to write my usual whiny and complacent couple of sentences.

but this time i am inspired by "some something" other than apathy. i haven't been so happy as i have been the last two days in years. tessa and i haven't stopped laughing, skipping, hopping, gasping for air yet. every minute of the day goes much too too fast. my face hurts from smiling, my gut hurts from laughing, and i have more pictures of nature than i can ever decide what to do with.
i want her to take me with her.

today, i cannot seem to figure out how i ever let my life get so far off track. when did i get here? when did i start feeling like just another bump on the log? and why the fuck do i keep thinking that i am not good enough to do or be anything else?
i'm stuck. i feel like i've got one foot out the door and the other in a vice. but at least i know i am going to get out of here.

reflect this.

either the leaves have to start turning red and yellow or i am out of here.
i am tired of stupid questions: "where is highway one?"
and i am tired of answering them with a smile on my face.

i haven't had a chance to breathe since i got back on monday. i haven't had time to collect myself, sort through my shit, wash my clothes.

i'm so overwhelmed, so overwhelmed, so overwhelmed.



anyone heard me scream in awhile?
me neither.

overstimulation.

from work to car to bed to train to couch to bed to train to car to work.
i's been a crazy week, and i am happy to be sitting here alive and still able to think. . .kinda.

i still find that chicago is an amazing city, but it's much more intimidating when on your own. yet i survived it all, had a good time, and am now anxious to know when i will see that particular skyline again.

and speaking of skylines
my most familiar, my most developed, my most endeared skylines have just disappeared. i had high hopes for them, and now i am afraid they will be lost to another shining example of people's lack of faith in the arts. and today i have slipped another notch on the ladder of dignity.

when it all comes around. . .i'll be there. with bells on.

in the morning

chicago.
it consumes all my thoughts.
that's the city for me.
the city for me.

soon.
i will be back in the city soon.
and all too soon, i'll be gone again.
with a week's worth of memories more.

fuck.
i've got to start planning my life.

not for all the love in the world.

on days like today, and on nights like last night
it just feels good.
it feels good to fill your lungs with enough air to belt out a chorus line
for no one to hear
and just to be able to sing it

this time is a good time

somehow it got to be morning.
i have been dealing lately with feelings of disappointment. sometimes for good reason, sometimes for no reason at all.
but even the few beers i drank before midnight take adverse effect and leave me feeling like nothing but a big alcoholic.

"there seems to be a running theme about being fine and alright."
i've noticed it, too.

i am wide awake now in the early morning hours,
jolted by the dream i just had.
disappointed, even in the realm of imaginatation.
(but whose imagination?)
even upon waking, i could feel the intensity of such emotions

loss
betrayal
anger

and a lyric in my head. with nowhere to go until i acknowledge it, listen, admit it to myself.

"the fools we are as men."

as i peer out my bedroom window, the deep blue of a early morning summer sky gives me peace.
peace enough to let me back down to sleep.

the things i learned today.

because we learn new things everyday. . .or so they say.
today i learned that even i can be in a good mood.
i learned that i don't hate ranch dressing as much as i thought.
i learned that i have an hourglass figure.
you know, like "i'm all curves."

i learned that men are gross, at all ages, and women rarely hesitate to defend their behavior.
i learned that i can walk fast, bike faster, and wake up early.
i learned that i can cook, and i can eat, but i don't expect it to taste any good.
i learned that i can be nice, just randomly.
as long as there is something in it for me.

i know. i'm not as smart as i look.
but i am just enough of a jackass that it doesn't matter.

winding down, cranking it up.

it's the small things that kill me.

the little decision i'm forced to make by myself that makes all the difference.
the one sung lyric that fills my heart
the tiny brush stroke i can't ignore
only one small word reminding me that he hasn't forgotten.


the music, the people, the love.

the next red light.

the smell of fire is strong this morning.
and my head is spinning, along with the room i am sitting in.
bad ideas all around last night.
well. . .not as bad as they could have been.
the point is that i feel like ass, and all i can think about is the breakfast bagel that is waiting for me downtown.


downtown. . .yeah right.
a forest fire is raging 20 miles away, and i use the phrase "downtown." as if ely were more than three blocks around.
anyway. the smell of fire is constant.
i haven't really decided how i feel about that one yet.

sugar and the jitters

i'm running low on tea. and what's left of it is now cold.
but it's still sweet and creamy, with enough kick to keep my eyes open for at least a few more hours.

my belly is nearly empty. that's because there were no eggs for breakfast, as i had been promised.
his word isn't any good, and he doesn't respect me enough. but his smile works, his eyes are deep, and his voice just kills me.
so he is forgiven.

each moment i spend with him is an act of sabotage.
and for what? a poorly kept secret and a summer of awkward suspense. but how happy this makes me. . .an ounce of satisfaction goes a long way these days.

honey in the honey pot.

i swear i'm happy.
though you might not guess it from reading my blogs.

i'm especially happy on the days the twins win.
even better on the days they beat the cubs.

and i am all over the place tonight.
my sister is coming home in the morning! it could rain and hail and be 30 degrees all day and i wouldn't care. because kate would be there.
it's possible this could be the last time i see her in a great long while.
and that hurts.
but she is my baby sister, and i love her nmw.
that's no matter what.

and that matters.

a recurring playlist keeps running thorough my head. i can't decide how it makes me feel, or what inspires the tunes. but i do know that the songs i hear remind me of a memory i haven't made yet.
it's very confusing.

i probably need help. you know, of the professional nature.

when i see you, i always see you upside down

i don't understand why life always has to be so hard.
my mom, the crazy but wise and always-right-in-the-end voice in my head, reassures me that it'll work itself out.
but i'm torn between reality and the dream.

"i should have given you a reason to stay."

but i'm afraid that if i stay, all i will ever want to do is get out.
and if i go, i might fail but at least i will have somewhere safe to come home to.
i feel like the cliche in a clash song.

abandonment. the ultimate price to pay. i don't want it to come down to that.
apologies. of the deepest variety. but i just can't this time. i can't stay. i can only realize one dream at a time, one step at a time.

"this is fact, not fiction."

i'll come back. but please let me go. . .at least for now.

a perfect life.

i dream of sunny days spent in the warming chill of midwest autumn air,
absorbing the constant buzz of everyday.
getting lost, just so we can explore our way back home.
i'm an idealist.
i've always known i was to be surrounded by the beautiful things--art, music, people.
a simple life in the midst of complication.
humbled by people who are smarter than me, though there can't be many!
a little less ordinary, and yet familiar in every way.
safe. unfathomably happy.
then, with one thoughtless remark, the dream is gone.
the dream becomes only a dream, and my reality is a disappointing one.
there are no more good mornings,
just anxious, sleepless nights
and days spent in a haze, hoping for an escape.

currently on hold.

hate waiting..
i didn't really think that the busy signal was ever that ineffective. who decided that forcing customers to listen to tinny elevator jazz and berating them with mini-radio ads was a better idea?
couldn't i just call back later?

sunburns are so less than awesome.

sunscreen.
my best summer friend.
especially when planting a garden.
did it fail me? you might wonder.
no. it worked perfectly on the places i actually applied it.
but i missed. two large bands across my upper and lower back.
the tops of my ears. and the tops of my feet.
and now, it stings to the touch, it hurts to move, it hurts to wear clothes.



at least i will have heaps of delicious vegetables to munch in appox. 65 days.
woot.

yes, you.

you don't know it, but i've celebrated you with ice cream.
she never knew it, but you trusted me with a big secret and i absolutely did not blow it.
you simply don't care, and that is why i love you.
you made me laugh like no one had before, but i felt too vulnerable.
you probably couldn't tell, but i always admired you most.
you didn't know, but i took every word you said like it was gospel.
you have no idea, but i write you letters sometimes, with no intention of actually sending them.
she will never know what you were like before, when you were with me.
you and i don't get along, but that doesn't mean i don't adore every inch of you.
you know everything and more, who am i trying to fool?
you're so not, and neither am i.
you didn't mean it, but i didn't pick those flowers for her.
you might be younger than me, but you're the only jewish grandmother i have!
your feelings were hurt, but i was only quoting a movie.
you must have some idea, that while the look in your eyes makes me buzz, i can't stand to be around you.
you absolutely cannot hurt my feelings, that's why i let you call me "fatty."
you rarely remember to call, but when you finally do, it makes my week.

just call me "savior."

I first saw him about 2 months ago.
Crouched down next to a heap of dirty laundry. I didn't want to disturb him, but he made me feel uncomfortable. I hestitated before turning to leave, and walked away knowing it was the right thing to do.
Everyday for the following weeks, I could sense his presence. He wasn't going to sneak up on me, I knew that. But I wondered if I would ever see him again.
***
Lifeless.
At first I thought she was dead. I felt completely helpless, probably the same way she did before she died. I could almost hear her crying for help.
La Mariposa.
I quickly walked past her frail black and yellow body, hoping no one had witnessed such a shameful interaction.
***
This morning, he came back into my life. It was as though he'd perched there all night, quietly waiting for me. Now he was nervous, anticipating, scared.
I was scared, too.
I looked at him for a long time, while wiping the sleep out of my eyes. I needed to decide what to do about him--and fast.
So I went to the kitchen cupboards, pulled out a small, clear drinking glass and a blank sheet of paper.
***
I opened the back door to look for her after several minutes, probably driven by guilt. I spotted her only a few feet away. Her fragile wings caught the sun's earliest rays, as she lay barely moving on the gritty cement sidwalk.
I wanted to save her. But how?
El Jardin.
The only two words I know in Spanish: they belonged together.
If she was surely going to die, she was going to do it with some dignity, atop a bouquet of healthy purple blossoms. Not under the boot of some aloof, ignorant tourist.
I scooped her up, and laid her gently in the garden to spend the rest of her life surrounded by the beauty of nature.

tessacrat.

in response to the late-night inquiry of "am i being closed-minded" for tuning out repubs?
am i being one of them? she asked me.

dems discuss. repubs make excuses.
dems argue with compassion, to make this world better for everyone. that's everyone, not just people like them. and that's the world, not just america.
republicans argue to save face.

so, the answer is no. might i add, tessa? you must remember that you are a special breed of democrat. you are a minnesota democrat, making you a dfl-er. your new "friends" in new york can't touch that.

use this one on 'em next time it comes up:
from Sims's Frontline
"why would i waste a mile in your crooked footsteps?"

rain, rain, go away.

it's been 8 days.
8 days! 8 days! 8 days! eight days! EIGHT DAYS!
eight days since i have seen the sun.
eight days of rain.

this summer thing is on my list. it's slacking, and we are not friends anymore.

i ripped my pants on a rocking horse.

apparently it's still my birthday. i love this week.
i arrived at work today to find an adorable little strawberry shortcake sitting on my desk. it is glorious!
really, strawberry shortcake was the only think i could think of that i wanted for my birthday and didn't get.
you know, that and a million dollars.
but i was spoiled rotten by my friends, my family, and some people who barely even knew me. well i know them now.
and i thank them whole-heartedly.



but i'm not gonna hug you or anything. . .that's awkward.

i promised poetry.

but poetry would be far too kind a description for the events that took place this weekend.

i tried to put into words the sights, the sounds, the feelings, the people, the places, the air, the food, the drink.
oh god. . .the drink.
it was all a blur.
my photos even seem too kind a depiction of the things my eyes remember seeing.



my last peek at the white light moon before dipping into a tunnel underground.
then glances exchanged in the blackness, the empty void of reflections missed.
the feather light feeling in my stomach as i climbed the stairs in an open-air stadium with a million other people.
sitting on a barstool, the unfamiliar laughter seeping from my own gut.
the apex.
the quiet complaints, the innocent moments of memories recalled.
and i find myself craving more.


katie and i are moving to chicago. i decided.

the sun rises in chicago

sometimes i drink.
i drink to celebrate.
and then i forget to go to sleep because i drank too much.

in chicago.
and it's awesome.

i can't help myself.

the most beautiful thing in the world.

right in front of my eyes,
but so hopelessly out of reach.

birthday resolutions

alright, i thought i had something to say about how to change my life for the better upon turning 23.

i don't.

instead, all i can say is that i am fucking excited to be spending the weekend in chicago with my little sister.
until then, of course, i have work to do.


and oops. i hope i didn't screw anything up. seriously, oops. and i mean that in more than one way.

30 questions, one drunken night in wbl.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
dad's house is boring.

2. When is the next time you will have sex?
i'm never having sex again, as always.

3. What's a word that rhymes with "DOOR"?
score!

4. Favorite planet?
i rather enjoy venus.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your mobile?
katie. . .i knew it.

6. What is your favorite ring on your phone?
number 11, the one where tessa giggles.

7. What shirt are you wearing?
a little brown tank top. it's new.

8. Do you "label" yourself?
yeah. i'm an asshole.

9. Name the brand of shoes you're currently wearing?
i have bare feet.

10. Bright or Dark Room?
dark. preferably when its night.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?
it was taryn. we are going to rock it at mollys wedding saturday.

12.if you're alone in a room with two beds, which one do you sleep on?
the one with better pillows.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?
drinking at a dinky little place in white bear.

14. What did your last text message say that you received on your mobile?
"PUFF PUFF PASS!" it's 4/20, you know the drill.

15. Where is your letter box?
it occurs to me this is written by some damn brits, because i don't have a freaking mobile and i certainly don't have a letterbox! yeah its by the back door.

16. What's a word that you say a lot?
obnoxious

17.Who told you he/she loved you last?
charlie jandrich, but i was laughing and he was lying.

18. Last furry thing you touched?
i try not to come into contact with many furry things.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?
just the regular alcohol.

20. How many rolls of film do you need to get developed?
taking pictures is hard for me to remember to do, so none.

21. Favorite age you have been so far?
i really liked 17. i never thought i would make it that far, so i made the most of it.

22. Your worst enemy?
pretty girls whose thighs don't touch.

23. What is your current desktop picture?
its a matisse painting of a naked woman on a lounge chair with some oranges. it's pretty.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?
"k goodnight," to sister kate.

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly, which would you take?
fly, duh. if someone just gave me a million dollars, i would drop dead in pure shock.

26. Do you like someone?
no. . .at least i don't think so.

27. The last song you listened to?
"dancing in the dark," bruce springsteen. you know, the boss.

28. If the last person you spoke to was getting shot at, would you jump in front of the bullet?
holy shit yes. thats my darling one and only little sis. if she caught the bullet i would want to die too. and that is hardcore.

29. If you could punch 1 person in the face who's in your life right now, who would it be?
ha. that reminds me of the time when silas wanted to punch that girl in the face "until she died." that was sweet. um. . .i would punch. . .well no one in the face. thats mean.

30. What is the closest object to your left foot?
my right knee. thats right, i am sitting indian style (thats cross-legged to you) on the floor in my sisters room.


um. . .this was stupid and sobering. i'm never doing this again.



and ps. i am mad that i'm not going to chicago tomorrow. shooot.

static radio

on a day as gray as today,
i've got the radio on, sitting alone
surrounded by familiar things, in a vaguely familiar place,
and feeling like a complete stranger.

the pulsating waves of music infiltrate the air,
i breathe it deep
in and out.
a constant buzz doesn't interfere, doesn't annoy.

instead it echoes the sounds i imagine the clouds are making outside.
low, constant, unchanging
comforting.

black tea has all the caffeine i need.

i felt like i was having "a case of the mondays," until i realized that it is tuesday. which makes my case of the mondays even worse.
this black tea is both my savior and my sustenance,
my current addiction.
i cannot even see the sun, but i know it's shining there in the southern sky because of the rays bouncing off the building to the north and falling into my lap.


good lord (in honor of easter).
i have a wedding to attend this weekend.
there had better be an open bar.

the chocolate cake voices

i have had the same bob dylan disc on rotation for the last three days. oddly enough, i'm not ready to throw it out the window.

"he was a friend of mine."

it reminds me of Ramblin' Jack Elliott's story about being snowed in on a mountain with nothing but The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan record. after being stuck there a few days, being able to play Don't Think Twice, It's Alright like it was nothing.

"let me die in my footsteps, before i go down under the ground."

today i feel like i could pick up a harmonica and make something beautiful come out of it like dylan does. but for the sake and sanity of the people around me, i promise i won't even try.

last night i dreamt

last night i dreamt that i had tattoos.

two of them:
one on my thigh and one across my stomach.
they were strings of small red flowers
and i loved them.

i woke up and wondered where they went.
half relieved, and half missing them.

first rain.

it all looks like a blur from this window seat.
sims is in my ears telling me it's all

"just for you, just for you."

just for me.
it makes me smile.
but i'm not sure if it should.

i will spend hours in this tiny, dark room
just listening to the rain against the tin roof, tin walls.
i feel like it's coming down
just for you, just for you.

and it's effect on me is indescribable. . .
except that it's nice.

he may be a saint, but he ain't saintly.

saint patrick's day weekend.
wow.
in a way i wished it would never end.
each day topped the next as the "best day ever." it really was.

the best day ever.

i came home to ely to find out that some crazy meth heads went ballistic on the town while we were gone, shooting out store windows, cars, whatever inanimate objects they could find to put a bullet in. i could have been scared for my life, but instead i was watching my brother's drunk friend strip off his pimp costume on the big screen at the game. i can't believe he is a teacher. . .the most influental job in the world and he walks around with a sock roll stuffed in his pants. jfh. way to go. i really hope you scare those australians.

some day i guess i will bounce back from the craziness that ensued. but it wasn't yesterday, and i certainly don't feel like it today. i'm just going to ride this wave for a while.

ps. i'm drunk

the weekend is over.
over.
i have accomplished nothing at all,
i promise.
there were alot of drunken facts to be remembered,
and i am not convinced i did an awful job at it.

after a parade, a cat fight, several awkward gropings thwarted,
i am ready to go home,
go home.
go home to ely.

and i don't know when i'll be back again.

nerf footballs and frisbee.

it should be that time of year.
the ground is wet and the air is warm.

but the sky is heavy and low
and the snow is piled high
under a sheet of ice
that came down as morning rain.

i'm thinking about last spring.
just sitting around in the grass
on big fleece blankets
with your head in my lap
or her head in mine
or my head in yours.
it didn't really matter,
they all traded each other anyway.

the frisbee games never lasted long for me
"fear of perspiration," i guess.
no. but that makes me laugh.
midnight football on the quad
"you had fun, you won!"

the season i thought would never end.
it was all it could be,
and it's all that there was.

fuck college.
i loved that shit.

oh blog.

when this day is over, i hope i will be able to sleep.
i told him i am trying my best to get over this insomnia.
not even.
it's just an aversion to night sleeping.

all turned around

it was a good weekend.
such a good weekend, in fact, that now i am confused.
where am i supposed to be?
where do i want to be?
why am i so far away from my friends?
"what happened to you?"
"you did."

the best part of all was the art museum.
you guys don't know how much i would give to be able to go to the art museum every week with you.
mfs, krs/c, jnn. . .the three of you are (and i mean this whole-heartedly) my favorite people on the entire planet. i wish i could spend every day with you, eating burritos and looking at art. i love you.

be the message

Today is Valentine's Day.

As much as that displeases me, it's nice to see the sunken sky, gray and dismal. Threatening to drop "flecks of snow."
A sweet song heard through the speakers, but it's one of heartbreak, not passion.

"Baby, that's not all."

An early morning shopper reassures me that men are the ones who really dig this day. She tells a tale of drunken secrets spilled the night before; this is her desperate dash to make it right. Maybe he finally told her he loves her.

They say this is a day to spoil your significant other. But the people I am thinking about are my mom, my sisters, my best friends, and my brothers.

"Think of another and give a little of your heart to the least expecting."

I love you too, mom. Now here is a woman with the power to make me cry out of love. The intensity of her compassion and strength is an honesty I wouldn't find anywhere else in the world. Sometimes she can be so profound.

My true loves happen to be people I don't especially like. Their similarities: thier stubborness, selfishness--none of it matters because each one of them knows the ins and outs of my life, my love, my dreams, my goals, my frustrations. We speak each others' words. We laugh for no reason, and have every reason to enjoy it while it lasts.

I hope it snows today.
Snow makes me feel closer to heaven, and reminds me that I walk on the earth.

Wish granted. . .
and it's a blizzard.

my mormon neighbor

my mormon neighbor is getting married! next week, for christ's sake!

"why," you might ask, "would someone get married before finishing school, with only a week's notice?"

oh yeah well, that's because she's going to have a baby. A BABY!
a little squirmy, squishy, saliva-spewing bundle of gross.
it's just a little much for me.
that and knowing that things won't ever be like they used to be. no more crazy club nights, no more 151, no more "best white friends ever!" well maybe that won't change. after all, yengmy is still in tact.

so here's to you, mai nhia. you've been a great friend to me, and i am very very happy for you. i just can't hide the fact that i am incredibly freaked out.
i love you.

the dark side

it is cold, cold, cold out there!

so i'm posting to ensure the masses that i am not as depressed and emo as my blog may indicate.

today marks the opening of the Ely Artwalk. this is the biggest and best show i have ever taken part in. on my way to the post office today, i passed all the store windows on chapman street, including mine. on the way back from the post office, i hurried down sheridan street (north side. . .i never walk down the north side) because i couldn't get enough.

concept: over 160 artists showing over 700 pieces of art in the windows of participating stores all over town.

mine are located at roger's printing. seven pieces. an entire store front devoted to me and what i have to bring to the world. i can't get over how fucking awesome it is! i hope everyone gets the chance to see it. if not this year, maybe next.

due to the euphoria this experience has created, my dark side is dead. for the moment. but don't worry. . .my next project is called "Self-Portrait as a Cynic."

alcohol is not okay.

god damn it all to hell.

i wake up to the stale smell of cigarettes on my fingertips,
heart racing
and i think
"i am never doing this again."

a bad influence

I am drifting, aimlessly
wandering.
I am searching
Until finally I am
falling.
The distinct slap of reaching
bottomness resonates within my body.

"i am going to die. there is no god."

Lying so still, my
heart is racing as I
open my eyes.

Feeling
as though something
has just propelled me
through all of space and time
and space.
Fearing
that I've just glimpsed the truth.

This is my reality.

texture is a bitch.

what's making me happy this morning?
raspberry yogurt. and that's about it.
this being hungover at work thing really sucks.

and all the shit from the night before won't let go either.

wait. . .is this yogurt even still good?
the date on the cup says yesterday.
but god damn it, it really makes me happy!
how can something be so good and so disgusting at the same time?

anyway, the yogurt is not important.
what the hell is happening to me?
and what the fuck do people get out of hating each other?
and why do i have to have anything to do with it?

bitches.

emo runs rampant

my first morning action was to crank up some dashboard confessional.
"i'm talented at breathing, especially exhaling."
pat must be home.

while he slaved over a hot kitchen stove to make the family happy with crepes and a fruit sauce, i rocked the postal service.
"i'll be the platform shoes, undo what heredity's done to you. you won't have to strain to look into my eyes."
the lyrical masterpiece resonated in his absence.

check myspace. the home page advertises the likes of connor oberst and his bright eyes crew as well as as the postal service's silhouettes video.
"i've got a cupboard with cans of food, filtered water, and pictures of you."
it's madness. i've been sucked into an emotional black hole, and i fear that i won't be crawling back out for some time.

let us take a moment to mourn the death of any elements of cool i might have once posessed. rest in peace. kinda like helena does for my chemical romance. oh suck.

"you talk way too much"

i know. . .so what do you want me to do about it?

i realized (while in the midst of my morning shower) that i am completely content with living vicariously through other people.
i am home base.
while everyone else runs around, past, and through me. . .they always come back. and that's cool. that's just my style.

craziest-ass dreams last night. including a rock-star version of "cute boy in the middle," a synchronized swimming chorus line, creepy hotel elevators, and family affairs. if only it meant something. . .anything but a jumbled, confused mess. i already know what that looks like.

sad emo fuck.

i apologize. apparently my heartfelt poetry is just a little too heartfelt for some of you (jenni). perhaps you are just bitter because fuckshit favre-a-like is a cock. it's okay, you have the right to be. the fucker should have never called.

umm, anyway. i heard from both of the younger sibs today, that was pretty kickass. i miss them.

my big plans for the day are to eat mass quantities of chocolate and watch sammy alito get reprimanded by the likes of my boy ted (kennedy, that is). holla.

when sleep is scarce

it's a constant battle with my own eyelids,
fighting to stay awake.
just 12 hours ago, i knew it was a bad idea
but pain doesn't have a hold button.
sadness can't just be turned off.
laughing ought not be postponed.
sleep just lingered patiently in the background.

"there's nothing you can do that can't be done."

he doesn't know the thoughts i think
until the fateful nights when booze becomes to much
the constant flow of bad decisions, honest thought.

"love is all you need."

up all night

i stayed up all day,
a big accomplishment for me
waiting to leap for just a fleeting second.

i stayed up all night
studying the sparks that spewed forth from the flames
drugs, money, sex, magic.

eavesdropping from hundreds of miles away
connected to each other in a single spiral cord
"i miss you" and "you're fantastic" and "i wish i were there beside you."

i peer through the window
anxiously awaiting the suns first rays
upon this massive display of fire and ice.

the emptiness in the pit of my stomach. . .
is it here because you are not?
or maybe i'm just starving to death.

so this is the new year. . .