wondering.

why haven't you fallen in love with me yet?

moving day (again).

today i am moving home.
but am i actually going back?
i mean, "moving" consists of taking your things from one place, and happily bringing them someplace else.
if i don't have a bed to make, a closet to sift through, a table to set, can i really be "moved?"
"home is where you lay your hat."
but my hat has nowhere to be laid.
"home is where the heart is."
my heart has forgotten how to feel; unaware of it's surroundings or the outside forces pulling it in every direction.
home just doesn't feel like "home" anymore.

fusion.

My mom was a free lovin' flower child
My dad enlisted in the Vietnam War.
How's that for fusion?
My mother graduated high school in 1971, didn't go to college at first because of all the violence taking place on the university campus. She was afraid. She was afraid to think. She was afraid to speak.
My dad didn't finish high school--he dropped out at age 17--but if he had, the year would have been 1963. He joined the United States Marine Corp, turned 19 in the jungles under siege. This was his choice.

As a child, I often wondered how my parents ever came together. Why a naive idealist and a war-ravaged nationalist would ever consider marital union? For lessons to be learned, I supposed, compliments of one another. One to stir things up and the other to smooth out the wrinkles.
The wrinkles soon revealed themselves as rifts, while it became evident that the stirring was actually a boil.
My parents divorced when I was five.

. . .I began writing my memoir in Jazz class one summer. . .

stagnant.

do you ever go to sleep to dream?
and then the dream turns out to be nothing like the way you want it.
cant go back there
stay up thinking instead.

the stadium lights looked blankly down upon us,
basking in the spotlight was never meant for you and me.
i didnt expect to see you.
awkward touching that somehow felt right.

revealing our secrets, laughing at the way things were.
sometimes i just can't believe you.

if only you knew i meant you

dreams are good things. . .while youre asleep.
but to awake, to dismiss the designs that please the senses
saddens me greatly.
to awake and find you next to me frightens me
to awake and find you gone makes me wonder
if you were ever really there at all.

i sure am wordy.

today, kids, i learned that i love words.
i apologize to any of you who have painfully been witness to this in the past. to me, there is so much to be explained out there in the world, and if we are ever going to know about everything--at least in my lifetime--we'd better start talking.

time for my couscous dinner.
out.
(unlike seacrest)

what i like about you

ipod.
you make me want to brag about you. everybody loves you,
but you belong to me.

so far, my favorite thing about izzy (yes, he is pink)
is that sometimes i forget that i am wearing earphones
and i just feel like the music is in the air
like in the movies when music just appears out of nowhere
no stereo in sight, the perfect song always just is.

maybe the guinnesses are responsible for the loss of feeling on my skin. . .
but no matter. i am happy that the liffey is there on kellogg and seventh.
i cant wait to show kate.