Saturday, April 30, 2005

I went and did it...

I bought a cell phone. I got a pay as you go deal with "the big one" where I have 3 friends who work there, who are all so excited. But why did you go "pay/go"(company lingo)? Well because last time i had a cell phone, I used to get so mad about the fact that I had it and had to deal with it. there may be times I won't even want to use it. I'll totally leave it at home for months, and I'll be one of those people about whom people say "why do you even bother to have to a cell if you're just gonna leave it off all the time?"

I was so glad I didn't have a cell when there was this guy (I call him 'cell phone guy' when I tell the story) who drove me home from a party and wanted to date me, who spent almost the entire ride home (almost 30 minutes) making oh-so-very crucial phone calls while I sat and chilled to his gino-beats. And a few days later, he called me - from his cell - on Friday night at about 8:30 trying to ask me out. I let his call go to VM and saved it for weeks so I could play it for everyone and say "Can you believe the nerve? Isn't that against the rules? To try to ask me out for the same night?" I never went out with cell phone guy, but I did use the story to prove just how cool I was when I was trying to get Butler to take me home after our holiday party. Good times. Well, Butler is truly out of my life and he will never bring me home again, and I'm really okay with that, so I figured it was safe to get a cell phone.

My cell phone is totally sexy and cute, silver flip phone, and it fits inside my hand. I guess my values have changed. So I'm on my way out now, but you can reach me on my cell. A'ight?

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Quantum Pink Hearts

little pink hearts drawn for no one.
little pink hearts in pink felt tip pens.
liitle pink hearts with room for 2 sets of initials and a plus sign.
chubby little anatomically incorrect hearts
but not with the name of my beloved inside.
I carry him with me,
and in that other world
that was created when he chose her,
wherein he's my lover,
together we dream of the life we're embarking on.
little sadly drawn pink hearts that look empty without his name.
behind the hearts, between the protons,
a porch swing, with us sitting side by side, holding hands
2 glasses half filled with wine,
sunset painting itself across the sky before us,
2 cats moving between our feet brushing against our skin
for want of nothing but the contact.
The breeze off of the water rushes towards us
and he brushes the hair away from my face that wasn't there before...
leans over, kisses my face,
"thank you for this good life"
that has really yet to begin, as we sit beside the door
with little pink hearts and our names engraved.
behind those hearts, between those protons,
a girl sits with a pink felt tip pen
and pretty pink paper
drawing little pink hearts
and sad words, alone and never knowing.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Y'all have got to read this, no yoke.

This is Jac's latest post, and it is just the coolest. This girl can just cut to the deepest heart and understand, which can be good or it can be bad. For her or her "victim". hey Jac! I love it!

breathing in the moment

It's funny as I look back on old posts and realize that I don't feel the way I felt when I wrote it. And it's okay. I don't want to delete them, because that's how I felt when I wrote it. It's like that with poems, too. Big Question: do you edit poetry or not? I feel like there is a very finite window on editing a poem. Like the poem I wrote on St. Patrick's Day, I could not edit that now. My relationship with big daddy has evolved or changed since then so to edit it would make it not about the way I felt at the moment I wrote it, which was a very lovely moment. The poem would become a lie. Sometimes "a moment" refers to a very short period, like an hour or a minute, sometimes a week or longer. When I say "moment" I refer to the period in which I felt a certain way without alteration or too much evolution.

How do I feel, right this moment? There's this pervasive sense of being 'between moments'. Not actually possible, some would argue. As always, which way do I go?

Big Daddy and I are having a lot of fun in our talks right now, and flirting quite boldly, but our intimacy has not increased and may possibly be on the decline. I just had to make it that way. Our professional ties are tightening and I rely on his services to do my job, and if things go wrong I need to be able to deal with that rationally. My care for him hasn't decreased, actually it's partly my care for him that's causing me to send more business his way, besides just enjoying every moment of dealing with him. So this is one of those moments where I'm taking advantage of the time to just breathe. Not quite waiting, but maybe a bit.

In my career, it's the same. Between moments. just breathing. Not pushing for the next change, just rolling with the punches. Here, it's because I just don't know what change I want. Do I stick to the initial plan, wait until September and see what happens? Or do I chase down new opportunities? That would really put this thing with BD on the line - are we beyond just a professional tie, if I'm no longer in a position for him to be my Superman at work, will he take the plunge and be my Superman at home?

I'll be moving in September, and I can't start to figure any of that out yet, except to decide approximately where. see? between moments. That's not good, this feeling. I'm alive, it's spring, life is beautiful, I'm going out for nachos and beer with Melissa this weekend (my heart is full as I think of that. I haven't seen her except at Starbucks in so long. I miss my Milly Bee.). I just have to not let this be an in between moment and give it the power it deserves to be lived and enjoyed. Screw breathing anyway, it's supposed to be involuntary. Being short of breath is so exhilarating...

Thursday, April 07, 2005

He yelled at you? I don't like it. Get rid of him...

april 7th at a Starbucks that's decidedly growing on me...

that's a dam good latte. and I told him so. But I didn't meekly approach him, twirling my hair and weaving from side to side with the posture of an eight year old. I said, "hey you, that was a fuckin awesome latte. thanks."

Not before the following epiphany, though:
When did i become so "small" of voice? So quiet and want to be unassuming? Why is it important that I make everyone's day "one smile brighter?" not that it's a bad thing, but is it for them, or for me? Is this about being a people pleaser? maybe it's not a big deal, not reflecting some personal insecurity. But in my belly it feels like maybe it is. Complete strangers who won't ever see me again have to think "what a nice girl..." I may be a complete doormat loser, but shit, I'm nice. When the fuck did that happen? Who knew what a neurotic freakazoid I really am? When did we decide "nice" is our defining feature? Bullshit! I can be a fucking bitch, I can be (albeit currently celibate, nevertheless) a complete sex-fiend slutbag, and I like being a loudmouthed opinionated shit disturber. I'm obnoxious and I'm funny. In fact, the louder and more obscene, the funnier I am. So where the fuck did my voice go? I didn't lose my ability to use words to express myself, I just stopped actually expressing who I am. I lost my voice. I am not quiet. Do you know that there are people meeting me recently who think I'm fucking quiet! What? A huge "fuck all o'y'all motherfuckers" to the people who saw me change into this mouse and let it happen! dudes! what the hell?

Say it. It fucking doesn't matter if every stupid person I meet thinks I'm sweet as pie. I don't mind being sweet as pie - as long as it's rhubarb pie. that pie has bite. I may not be eating myself alive with anger and fear and self-hatred (I don't miss that!) but that doesn't mean I can't have some attitude. I'm going to give up my ridiculous obsession with making sure everything I say and every reaction I have and everything I feel is perfect and making sure everyone know how perfect I am. I'm fucking not. A perfect person wouldn't swear this much, I'm quite sure. Yesterday I had an arguement with a coworker. He got defensive when I called him on some shit and tried to deflect blame. I was grumpy from tired and so I didn't control my words quite as much I normally would do. I argued back. A lot. It went on for almost 10 minutes. Fuck. It felt so good. And then I felt bad because I'd misbehaved. I don't feel bad anymore. I never apologized and I won't cause I wasn't wrong. He knows now not to try to blame me for his shit. I ain't a doormat. Hell no. When I told Dave about it, he was positively indignant on my behalf, which is sweet, but just shows me he has no idea who I am. That's okay. He wants to, and that's the important part. I just have to make sure it's really me he gets to know!

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

the beekeeper and the pope

I bought the new Tori Amos CD last night, The Beekeeper and I bought the one with the bonus DVD. I actually have not had a chance to listen to the whole thing straight through, but it's very long. And it's so very Tori. Soulful and passionate and I just love the way she plays with the sounds of words, so you know what words she's singing but she's singing them so differently. I just love that. Did anybody know she collaborated with a journalist to write her autobiography? I'm considering picking it up, I just think she's so interesting. her poetry is so mysterious and yet evocative of personal experiences as I listen to it. I may not be able to listen to anything else but Tori for a while. I may have to immerse myself a bit. Each song (so far) has such a distinct sound - a few are decidedly funky, soul, hip-hoppy. Like I'm not kidding, it's really fabulous. If you already love her, this will only add to it. If you don't know her, I dare you to not love her. okay, enough.

I'm this close to posting my first ever article on my newsy blog. It's going to be where I work on some writing, research and journalistic skills to see if I have what I have it takes. Ironically enough, for those who know me, my first article is going to feature heavily the pope and his death, but mostly the news coverage of said event. Working title: "What I learned about the News Media from the death of the pope." If you're curious, I think it'll be ready tomorrow night. I'll get back to you on that.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

¿the case against dating?

i'm not a big fan of the modern construct we call dating. Definitely there are circumstances where it works, where it's beautiful, lovely and beneficial to the lives of both people involved. But it seems to me, as a concept, it is fraught with drama, trauma and more trouble than it's worth. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, in terms of my present, my past and my future. I currently do not have a boyfriend. I have not had a boyfriend in a long time. I've loved guys who I never dated and I've dated guys I never loved. There have been times when I filtered from a guy the connection that was available - part mental, mostly physical and little to no emotional - because it was what he had to contribute and because I didn't care to fight for more.

I just think sometimes we date because we think we are supposed to. We are groomed, in our society, to "partner up" and forge these relationships and be romantically entangled. Like in the movies. Someone who will be on our arm at all the parties, someone to talk to whenever we have something to say, someone we can have sex with when we "feel romantic" (read: need physical release). Someone who looks good beside us. Look, I think these things are great. But this is not enough of a reason to have a relationship. Relationships are hard. They come with complications, entanglements, confusion, hurt and pain. Even the good ones.

So, do I want a boyfriend? Hell yeah, with a very important distinction. I want a partner in crime, I want him to be someone who is so very special. Not just any boy will do, you see. He must be strong, and sweet, and able to function emotionally, and intelligent. He must be of such integrity and character. He should have good (or atleast distinctive) taste in music and movies and books. He should be able to discuss politics and economics and world matters with me, and he should have a different set of expertise than me so we can teach each other. He should be worthy of my respect and admiration, he should impress me everyday with some new part of himself. And he should be as impressed with me as I am with him. He should be worth all the trouble, and he should see me as being worth all the trouble. He must fall in love with me as hard as I fall in love with him.

I didn't intend to turn this into a wish list. But dammit, Lisa, you got me thinkin with your post What I want in a lover besides love. I think what I wrote is not really the case against dating at all. It's an explanation to why I am not too upset that I don't have a string of "This guy I once dated..." stories anywhere near as long as some people my age. I'm not sure that I missed much. And I know what I want - and deserve - so clearly that I won't settle for anything less. exeunt...