happy sad happy sad happy happy sad sad

jump on the rollercoaster with me folks!

we just sold our house.

i'm happy.

money. we can finally start looking for a house here. we got a great offer. we can move forward.

i'm sad.

such a beautiful place. secrets stashed in the corners. buried under spackle and paint over the living room window is the scar from the plate i hurled. sweet things happened there. it would have been good for our future children. blood, sweat, and parts chipped off toes went into landscaping the backyard. the library was my favorite room - unless i was in the shower in the bathroom under the skylight. we never had a lemon from our own tree.

we'll never have a house that pretty and functional again.

ride over.

the beauty of being together

inside jokes. holding hands in the cold weather. built in date for those annoying office shindigs. wonderful dinners waiting at home. lots of laughter. help when i can't fix something myself. working with someone, not against. guaranteed booty from a trusted source. another income. two people with different ideas and goals struggling to mesh just because of love. eskimo kissing. spontaneous kitchen dancing. conserve water - shower with a friend. voicemails containing our song. you got my back, i got yours. you rub my back, i rub yours. someone to try my new recipe concoctions. middle of the day email conversations discussing how to escape work. combined daydreaming. warm toes. sharp political debates. car games like 20 questions. sharing perfect secrets. sharing not-so-perfect secrets. harmonizing partner. different circle of friends. extended circle of family. kissing. kissing. kissing. whispering fears makes them seem less real. mistletoe. splash wars in the pool. pinky swears. travel partner. no more agonizing over future dates. someone else to help carry the luggage. extra shaving cream always available. forever broadening horizons. staying up all night and watching the sunrise. giggling with someone. foot rubs. heated discussions. christmas presents that don't make any sense to anyone else, but mean more than the most expensive thing in the world. a more complete book collection. the little, every day things. making up "would you rather" scenarios on the road at 3am. combined nervousness when taking pregnancy tests. taking pictures of us together. telling bedtime stories. future kids. flowers. knowing that it's ok to not figure eachother out. love letters. pointing out the shooting stars that the other would have missed. making out in the desert. lunch dates. sharing the harry potter obsession. spring thaw. touching fingers, ET style. the first i love you. every i love you after that. smiles across a crowded room. always finding a rhythm together eventually - even when creating a new beat. walking through security checkpoint and landing in a hug.

you?

thankful for

santa fe with my husband
roxy/remi phrases like devilicious, moofuckingmoo, & "pulling a memphis"
lavender
cuarenta y tres con leche
new jobs, new opportunities
lemon trees
european vacations
staple removers
parades
mimosas
elvis
the underappreciated, underutilized sharpie marker
the underappreciated, underutilized dirty martini
road trips across the country
games of "would you rather..."
poker
pumpkin ice cream pie
the fact i can still feel a little hope in the face of this shitty year
spending thanksgiving with my family

just like the cheney's, we're going on a road trip.

only we are moving, not hitting all 50 states, and larry king will not invite us onto his show to talk about it.

santa fe, somewhere oklahoma, knoxville, northern virginia. we'll be driving the I-40 line.

our internet will be cut off today at some point, so perhaps after we arrive in VA on turkey day i'll write something. that is unless i fall into a tryptophan coma.

bye phoenix! we'll miss you.

written almost 3 years ago, for a time long over

at the horizon,
shades of us
happening.
you, slow tuesday jazz
me, a warm red raincoat.

sometimes I see our other selves
in another world
and we're playing,
drawing out rhetoric in thin long lines
climbing boulders and
breaking glass
to make ourselves obvious.

sometimes we are just
sprawled,
legs tangled,
on soft red furniture
in our loft apartment
with twenty foot windows
and fifty foot dreams.

i watch our shadows.

wondering where
we'd be now
makes me hate
where i am.

The first time I remember tasting New York tap water was when I was staying at my Aunt's gorgeous house upstate. Noticing the consistency of the liquid in my cup I told her that I didn't want milk. She looked at me, laughed, and told me to drink my water.

A few years after that, she came to Phoenix. She was thinner, divorced and had a kick ass leather jacket. I idolized her. She was this cool force - successful, talented, funny. She was an electric breeze that came into my life.

Since we didn't live in the same state, we didn't see each other much. But I thought about her. Bragged that I had a cool aunt to my friends. Heard stories from my parents about what she was up to, where she was living.

The times we did share were in Phoenix, in New York. Shopping trips in Manhattan. Me asking her questions in the guest room in Phoenix. Standing outside Mamma's house in the Bronx. Now these times are in Virginia, sitting around the table at holidays hearing the banter between she and my dad about thier shared childhood as they retold, relived their memories on E. 191st Street.

I don't really idolize her anymore - idolotry to me sounds removed, cold. What I do have for her is warm admiration. I cherish our talks, know that we'll have more giggling moments, more serious conversations, more mimosas.

Happy birthday, Aunt Doretta. Love you.

things i love about fall #1

songs that represent autumn/fall to me

kiss - london after midnight
millenium - killing joke
killing moon - echo & the bunnymen
karma - delerium
now i fall - wolfsheim
another world - beborn beton
christian woman - type o-
fall with your knife - peter murphy
cry little sister - from the lost boys soundtrack
how soon is now - the smiths

anything type o negative, nin, dead can dance, tori amos

forget milk. got goth?

Almost

"Hi baby, what's up?"
"Not much, you?"
"Driving home."
"Do you want the bad news? Or do you want to wait?"
Thinking it had something to do with the fact that my husband hadn't finished packing for the move, I breathed out slowly. "Ok, give me the bad news."
"Nelson was killed in Iraq."
"What?"
"Nelson."
"What? No."
He's silent on the other end of the phone.
"No! That's not possible."
"He was killed in battle."
"NO! It's not possible."

It couldn't be true. Not Nelson. Not sweet, smiling Nelson. So polite. So damn smart. An incredible young man. My former student - one of the ones who helped me remember on a daily basis why I loved teaching high school.

I didn't believe it. The tears that came weren't real because it couldn't be happening.

I hung up with my husband. I called Bettina.

"I have some terrible news."

My voice broke. Her disbelief washed over us like the second tidal wave in a suddenly stormy sea.

We know that too many of our students meet unfortunate ends. Death shouldn't steal their hopes, our hopes for them. But it does. And now one of the finest young men I have ever met has been killed?

Bettina and I try to reconcile the news with reality - what should be versus what is. For 20 minutes, we tumble through stories, recount our daily lives, try to cling to scraps of hope.

"Kevin's calling me on the other line. Maybe he knows more. I'll call you back."

I pick up the line.

"It was a mistake. He's ok. I don't know the full story yet, only that he's coming home. He wasn't killed."

The tears that come from relief feel nothing like the hopeless ones of only moments ago. Reality turns real again. In that split second, I can almost understand what a second chance truly feels like. I can almost understand what a mother must feel when finding out her own is still breathing, even if slightly scarred. I can almost understand why belief in a god is necessary.

Almost. Thank God.

the beauty of being alone

listening to the same song over and over again without someone telling me to turn it off. loud, obnoxious karaoke in the middle of the night. finding a single ticket to the theatre when all the seats together are sold out. painting toenails on the couch while watching "Real Sex" and smoking a cigarette. night breeze through the window, sprawled on the bed, only frogs and me breathing. conversations with the dog, no interruption. the peace of only me. obsess. obsess. obsess. sleeping with the blinds open and waking up to sunshine. stretching across the whole bed. the spaces in between. cheese and crackers for dinner; every night. long hot showers. putting on that black dress and looking incredible for me. the delicious wait for the next first kiss. rabidly reading, without pause. rabidly daydreaming, without pause. knowing that everything before me is possible. shameless flirting. the entire closet filled with shoes, purses, and as many damn scarves as i want. strength. girl trips. whenever, wherever. not having to explain that gambling loss. calling my ex and thinking about slipping into old, bad habits. meeting my ex and slipping into old, bad habits. dumping him the next day and moving on. deciding to make cookies, eating half the batter while mixing and throwing out the rest without even turning the oven on. another tattoo without judgment, without telling anyone. painting poetry all over my walls. watching "practical magic" over and over. reaching the summit and feeling accomplishment. cleaning the house and knowing no one is coming home to mess it up. endless buffy marathons. no planning, just living. experiencing the train station, eyes closed, feeling the breeze from the train stir the cool, humid air. walking around naked. picking out my own jewelry and flowers. spontaneous disappearing. listening to garrison keillor every sunday morning. embracing more challenges - keeping my edge. afternoons spent with pictures. amassing an impressive collection of "toys." change. write without accountability. speak without accountability. cute containers of soup for one. not shaving my legs. not shaving there either. spending the holidays with the people i want to see. not having to explain why i unloaded an entire can of raid on a cricket. knowing new sex will happen. not sharing the last bag of popcorn. whispers to the moon are secret, pure. it's ok to be eccentric, odd, "out-there," weird, depressed, mad, drunk. red painted walls. learning, exploring, becoming a better me. simplified tax returns. contemplation. feeling complete.

you?

Say it with me people

"Regime change."

Doesn't it sound pretty?

Unfortunately, when I woke up this morning I knew GB is still president

But, the good news is that I am so proud of Arizona. According to the AP "...Arizona became the first state to defeat an amendment to ban gay marriage."

While I can't agree with everything the voters have done in my state (cough whatthefuckareyouthinkingjonkyl cough), I am excited and happy that in Arizona the constitution doesn't define commitment and love based on gender.

In other news, I'd like to shout out a big "goodbye motherfucker" to Rick Santorum. Perhaps with your new time off, education will open your mind a bit?

Celebrate with Mr. Hanky

My company is currently celebrating a big anniversary. To commemorate the founders - and to celebrate the milestone - our campus is holding fun activities all week to get us in the spirit.

Today, we are using Play-doh to be creative and build a sculpture of our choice and enter it into a campus-wide competition.

When I found out about this, I was actually excited! Play-doh? Oh yeah, baby.

This morning, I received my tub of goo. It smells delicious - just like childhood. The problem? Mine is brown.

Somehow, I don't think Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo is an acceptable entry for today's contest.

previous music

Brandon Elliot Smith (a former student of mine) - You Lied

Sarah G - Hot Pink Champagne Cotton Candy Makeover

Beat Gorilla feat. Lisa DeBenedictis - Brilliant Daze

Gillian Welch - Soul Journey