Wednesday, December 12, 2012


they say it's not the destination that counts. but the journey.

often we get so caught up in the mode of transport on our journey. we are sidetracked by the vehicle we're traveling in. so enchanted are we, we fail to notice where we're going. or where we've been.

we're distracted by the mod cons of our little floating bubbles. we're too concerned with having enough gadgets to fidget with. to pass the time in a waking coma. we're so obsessed with comfort and ease. we pull the window shade down. we close ourselves off from the glare outside. from the imagined unsavory and unwanted. and all the while the pretty scenery is forgotten.

after a age we think to check our progress. we find our destination is somehow lost. farther than last we thought. our path has circled and converged. wound in tighter circles. and diverted in lazy waves.

so we make up our minds to clear our path. remove the shiny baubles that glint and glimmer. extract ourselves from our comfortable armor. throw back the window shades and set back down the road on foot.

so all the journey step by step.
is felt.
is smelled.
and seen.

i wouldn't say i've gone off my track.

so much as to say.

i forgot i was traveling.

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

museum of life or how i pass a grug test

roaming through past history. rifling through times gone by. my grandmother in laws house is a shrine to years well past. brown and orange wallpaper. shag pile carpet. magazines from the 1970's. most in pretty well perfect condition.

it's strange to sleep. with history infiltrating your dreams. avocado painted nightmares. tangerine heavens.

i found a yearbook. with a name that i don't know. it's for senior year 1970. and the art supplies and sewing books. it's like living in a museum. and i want to keep it all. despite the parental voices... get rid get rid. Maybe you want to learn how to pass a urine drug test for a job? About this in the next post.

i've found so much i want to keep. but i have no storage place. i wish i could convince them. of the treasure trove they wish to dump.

Tuesday, December 4, 2012


i was carded today. for a bottle of white wine and a pack of cigs. now. this would be a compliment in any country. but given the fact that the legal drinking/smoking age of this country is 18... eighteen?!

so i presume i look under or between the age of 18 and 21.

that was a nice little surprise for me today.

just a little up for my constant down.

Monday, December 3, 2012


twinkling lights. reflections of presents on colored glass baubles. ribbons. glossy paper and sparkling bows.

it's the eve.

this is my first as a married woman.

it's strange. i know there are many more firsts to be had. and there are so many more seconds to come.

i hope you all enjoy your day as much as i know we will.

merry merry!

Sunday, December 2, 2012

so this is manchester

my new home.

now i'm off to go pick up the fat kitten from London. pay attention. i'm going to LONDON to pick up the cat. LONDON is 3 hours away. i am in Manchester. huge difference. (pointed look to the daddy).

Saturday, December 1, 2012

chicken soup

chicken. noodles. green onion. daikon. bok choy. soy sauce. and a crap load of preserved turnips.

i will kill this cold with yellow slanty eyed hardheadedness dammit!

Monday, November 12, 2012

saving graces...



i owe them so much.

they totally deserve cookies. and lots of 'em.

if you haven't done so recently... i urge you to give your 'rents a call. or a hug. an email. or even a letter.

you'll feel better.

i know i do.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

6 days and redeyes...

it seems i just blogged. in fact. i think i did. 4 hours of sleep on a plane does not a full day make. so today is still yesterday as far as i'm concerned.

seems i booked a different flight that i thought. so instead of arriving in boston at a godly hour. i arrived at the ree-dick-er-us time of 6 am. who is awake at 6 am? certainly not my housemate who in no certain terms said to find my own way home from the airport. luckily i'm an old hand at this. but damn if the hill home didn't kill me.

so i'm home. safe and sound. showered. back in pj's. and cuddling the dog which has lost his winter coat. good thing his mittens weren't sewn into the sleeves or else his momma would scold him something fierce. so it's me and the pup awake now. housemate sleeps soundly. perhaps i'll persuade him to go to ihop with me later. because nothing makes you feel better from a latenight flight and farewells than greasy pancakes.

6 days.

how strange... the me on book of faces... trying to give a

how strange...

the me on book of faces... trying to give a lighter look like on things...

and the then the me here. the true me.

the dark... the angry... the sorry... the useless... the unfulfilled.

everyone wants to talk. but how does it help?

when the one i want doesn't want me?

so i'm left. alone. with the thoughts of my dark mind.

i have family reaching out. which makes me more afraid than the nightmares reaching out.

and i have the comforting darkness...

oh the comfort in that darkness... that sleep. the gentle pain...

what do i do?

i'm only thirty for crying out loud... i should have all my life to look forward to...

and yet i don't.

i can't.

i refuse to accept. i am... as the old cat song song goes... i am a hard headed women.

i am not letting you go. despite what i said last week..

i am. not. letting. you. go.

not now.

and not ever it seems.

Monday, November 5, 2012

grrr- the soundtrack

so i was pushing the next blog button... you know the one. just look up a scosh.

yup... just there.

it's how i find new things to read... and admittedly how i find new things to be angry about.

like how when you find a million blogs with the same plastic family smiling creepily out at you. clones. pod people. i mean. you have plastered the blogosphere with photos of your underage children. you've given landmarks for where to find your little angels. it's just... it just seems like bad parenting.

then there's the ever tasteful blogs that have crappy music playing as soon as you click. because being subjected to your vapid thoughts aren't enough. we also need to listen to your lame music.

oh and don't get me started on the how to blogs... blogs on how to blog! what? wait. what?!

i know i'm generally a curmudgeon on a good day.

somehow these random things make me go nuclear... or nuc-u-ler... whatever.

but then... there are some that just make you smile. like the new link i added... i think i'm supposed to ask if i can link first. but. i just didn't want to risk losing the name. check it out. it makes me smile. and i suppose that's a rarity.



only just.

second chances...

second chance romance?

and because i can't figure out how to use this mac... here's an old apology. it's five years old but still full of my heart.

i may have grown a bit more full figured. but the sentiment is still there.

in fact. the feeling is larger now. stronger. grown deeper. perhaps in order to match vessel in which it's held.

but though my waistline may shrink. my love will only expand.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

singledom: the sequel

living alone (or semi alone) for the past three months has been difficult. it's like being single again. except that there are all of the pitfalls and none of the perks. at least with being single there is the hope of some affection. there is the knowledge that you can always put on a cute skirt and heels and find a friend for the night. but this. this limbo that i'm in. this marriage purgatory where i'm not single. but i'm kinda not married either.

i mean. yes. i am married. i wear my ring. my eyes don't wander. and the only pants my hands have been in are my own. so it's not that i'm single. but i am.

i sleep on a futon. or on the floor. or on a couch. or an aerobed. either way. i'm alone.

i make dinner for one. drinks for one. tea for one.

i wake up alone. well, i always did that. he wakes up early and i'm still comatose by the time he's showered and out the door. but now i wake up and there isn't even a shadow of him. there is no warm imprint for me to roll into. there are no phantom kisses on my forehead as he rushes out the door. it's just me.

i'm hopeful that a change of scenery will liven up this psuedo-single life i've been living. though, i have a feeling that walking past places where we were together will make my eyes sting with tears.

so my newly not-quite-single life starts again on friday. i'm hoping these next three months go by fast. so i can get back to my very-married life.

we'll just have to wait and see.

Friday, November 2, 2012


today was a weird day.

one of those days where nothing seems to go according to plan.

it all started off so well.

i transferred money on friday to my credit card. the money arrived and i paid my visa application fee online this morning.

then i got an email from the credit card. for the charge i just placed. okay. weird. but okay. i can deal with that.

i also had to get ready for work. on a saturday. i know. but i figure why not accept the temp job for a saturday given the fact i've been off for thursday and friday. so i wake up at 6 this morning. get ready. deal with the credit-card-visa-payment-online junk and head out for work around 7:30 am. it's saturday and i don't trust the weather or the busses on saturdays.

i get off the bus early and take a small detour into a part of town which is home to my bank. i deposit a check. i take out cash for dinner later and brunch tomorrow. i've still got time. it's only 8:00 am. i have time to make it to work for 9.

i get to my subway stop. i follow the directions given by the agency. i walk. it snows. i walk. it blusters. i walk. i stop and ask directions. i receive blank stares. i walk. it begins to sun. i call the agency. i received crap directions initially. i turn around. i backtrack. i give up. it's now 9am. i take a cab to my assignment. i call the agency... "i'm here now." "oh, great. you're a bit early." "what? i thought it was for 9am." "no, it's from 10am to 4pm today." "oh... i'll go find someplace with food."


i then realize i'd written the time correctly on my direction sheet. why did i not notice it when i was scouring it for a clue as to how to find the freaking place?

so i wander. i find coffee. i get a small tub of oatmeal. i add soy milk. i add too much soy milk. it overflows. i sigh. i pay. i eat. i leave. i drink my coffee on my way back to the assignment. then i feel a bit of warm. a bit of warm on my chest. i look down to the coffee colored stain now spreading across my breast. i sigh. i bite back a curse and a wail. i chug my coffee. i find a pharmacy. i purchase a stain remover stick-thingy. i deal.

i twist my ankles on the slippery-snowy cobbled streets.

i make it to the office. i'm hot. sweaty. and flustered beyond belief. oh and i'm surrounded by little things born in 92. a school. my assignment. is. at. a. school.

i finish the day 6 hours and several papercuts later.

i join friends for dinner. i use their printer to get the visa application into a hardcopy. we laugh. we play video games. we get ready to drive me home. i get home. i get settled. i check my paperwork for the visa. i check my paperwork for the- fuck! if this was a movie you'd now see the screen pan all fast-like from my room over the streets over the river over the bridge and up the stairs into the living room of my friend. and there on a box. would be my visa application. freshly printed.


it really has been one of those days.

Friday, October 12, 2012

lists and lists...

from insider...well technically from VGT...

ooh only 22 things i haven't ever eaten... and only about two that i would never eat...

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.

2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at linking to your results.

the VGT Omnivore's Hundred:
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho
13. PB&J sandwich
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu (kinda, I've had Soju, the Korean version)
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant. (kind of... it was a one-Michelin-star)
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

winter in bloom...

staring out over the blank canvas of the world. a city slumbers beneath a downy blanket. knitted and purled by frosty needles. watching district and borough disappear under an expanse of white. the sheet pulled taut.

quiet chimes. the subtle ringing of millions of miniature glaciers. colliding. settling delicately upon urban tundra.

grey infused with the remnants of sun. tinged pink with the reflected and refracted light of humanity. the warmth of life bouncing and diffusing back. outwards. inwards. breathing.

perhaps a celestial baker. gently garnishing our night with sugar. sweetness to cover the sour. the light powdering melts and glistens. shining. sparkling.

or else the secret life of trees. comes to light in the dark stillness of winter. forcing white buds out from cold black limbs. pushing upwards. unfurling like a chrysalis. until the bleak street is glimmering and whispering. heavy with the weight. dipping towards outstretched hands.

crystalline blossoms.



a bouquet fit for the white witch.

a day for awesome...

standing outside. enjoying the cool air.

i hear a car. i hear music. i can just barely identify the music as celine dion.


celine dion singing my heart will go on.

i look at the car. it's a pizza delivery car.

i figure the owner is a girl...

the music is blaring.

the window comes down.

the door opens.

a very butch man exits.


he delivers the pizza with celine wailing in the background.

it's like he delivered pizza with ambiance music.



Saturday, October 6, 2012

well that figures...

You Are a Werewolf

You're unpredictable, moody, and downright freaky.
You seem sweet and harmless, until you snap. Then you're a total monster.
Very few people can predict if you're going to be Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde.
But for you, all your transformations seem perfectly natural.

Your greatest power: Your ability to tap into nature

Your greatest weakness: Lack of self control

You play well with: Vampires

Thursday, October 4, 2012

sleeping but not dreaming...

walking. past clouds made of laughter. they let out a ripple of golden giggles as i brush my fingertips across them. the sky breathes a sigh and rolls over and away dragging a gilt trail of burst smiles with it.

i turn away from the receding skyline. my hands are speckled with the remnants of laughter. i wipe them on my jeans and continue walking.

the ground undulates like the surface of a lake. radiating away from each of my footsteps. wave after wave of spring grass rush away towards an unseen shore.

i feel a lightness. air. i bend my knees. lift my chin. i leap upwards and gain momentum. i sing a chorus of nonsensical words. i watch as the song escapes my lips and wraps me in a warm updraft of air. carrying me higher and farther.

in the distance on a hill, a mirror reflects my flying self. i watch as i land. pirouette. and peer catlike into it's smoothness.

my mirror self looks upwards and meets my gaze. she glances down the length of her body. an arched brow dares me to do the same. i step closer. eye to eye. the mirrors frame expands until we stand face to face with no discernible borders.

her eyes skip across my body. i watch as she appraises me. my brow arches and i look down.

i am startled to notice the jagged edges. my body is halved. my female curves replaced with coves and peninsulas. one legged. one armed. a puzzle half finished. the mirror self smirks self indulgently. she turns and begins to walk away.

i feel a tear race along my cheek. following the gentle slope. before falling slowly down to the ground. the placid surface of the hill erupts in tidal waves as my pain travels outward. my mirror self is halted mid stride. she turns. horrified. she raises her hand in an arrow pointed behind me. before the waves hit her. she shatters into a hail of crystal shards. each piece of my mirror self melts back to tears. and she is swallowed by the thirsty earth.

i turn sadly. behind me. to where she pointed. my eyes are heavy with loneliness.

on the horizon. climbing my hill. a half finished figure. reaches the apex. brushes the tears from my eyes and pulls me closer. i hear the laughter of the clouds. i feel their golden warmth. i raise my eyes into deep blue. his smile is whole. and i wake.


i wake. whole. and happy.


me? never.

in any case this is my adorable wedding blog. go.

ooh and ahh at the cuteness.

or not.


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

time and space

i'm not sure what to say. i know what i want to say. but forming the words. putting them to paper or whatever you call this. the simple act of creating them out of more than just thought and air. committing them to reality.

do i feel i'll jinx it? do i think that by discussing it i'll make it worse? or i'll push everything over slightly in my rush to fit the words into this space. and then nothing will settle back into place.

i don't know.

i've been home for two days now. well, in this place i called home. it's different now. i suppose six months will do that to a place. six months alone will drive anyone a little mad i guess. boxing up our life. shuffling it all into cardboard containers. wiping the space clean. for the future reality of a move. a move somewhere.

or perhaps the act is symbolic? cleaning the space so the new us can figure each other out? a blank slate. or six months alone and you need to do something to keep from going completely mad.

i don't know.

we've been apart for six months.

i suppose if i give a little more time and space. we'll get used to each other. and it won't feel like i'm just visiting.

i hope.

Monday, October 1, 2012

decisions decisions

it's funny how life is.

i was so unhappy as a single. so tired and quiet inside. laughing and bright on the outside. hoping against hope that the act would come true. shedding light with a smile. letting the world and troubles roll off my back. tumbling away from the depths of my black curls.

and yet.

here i am.

not a single.

a half in fact. part of a pair.

and i am happy. before anyone thinks otherwise. let me clarify that one statement.

i. am. happy.

the happiest. not really wanting for anything. my love is full. he is at my side. and i at his. we have carved out our own place. nestled in. fed our roots deep into the world. we aren't shifting from this embrace anytime soon.

and yet.

it is that one pair of words. the "not really" of the statement above. i don't "really" want for anything. oh we all want don't we. want more. more money. more time. more summer. more laughter. more food. more space. more luck. more love.

i don't "really" want for much. but i do find my mind wandering. to the sad single days. when i did have more time. more time for me. though, admittedly that time was ill spent. sulking. or pining. or wishing for what was or could have been.

and here i am. time wasting. sulking. pining. wishing for what was or could have been.

again... i should clarify.

i have ideas. ideals. idols. but i don't fit the molds. i don't fit much these days. these child bearing hips though not in use do find a way to stretch my patience. my coffee skin and chocolate hair seem to call to their kin. until i am more than i was. and still less than i am.

i am a dreamer at heart. i think and think. and i do less and less.

but decisions must be made.

i have all the time in the world.

and so many ideas to release into it.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012


so... this is one of my favorite new blogs... it has nothing to do with ponies. sorry to trick you.

it is pure awesome though. i don't often laugh out loud. but this... this actually had me in hysterics.

it's my gift to you people. enjoy.

tips for walking your daughter...

always bring lots of water to keep your daughter well hydrated.

always point out random trail markers... rusty water tanks, rusty fences, old windmills.

always explain how the trail is different from season to season.

always keep your daughter well conversed so she doesn't notice it's been 2.5 hours and 7 miles.

always realize she'll want to go again as soon as her legs have stopped being all wobbly.

thanks dad. same time-ish next weekend?

Monday, September 10, 2012

birthday math

this year i turn 28...

i will be 4 times the age i was when i realized people have their own inner monologues.

i will be 4 times the age i was when i realized my own mortality.

i will be twice the age i was when i vowed i wouldn't ever forgive my dad.

i will be twice the age i was when i thought i couldn't be happy again.

i will have lived 3 years longer than i thought i would have.

i will have wondered for years at the curiosity that is other people.

i will have long since forgiven my dad for being human.

i will have accepted my mortality.

i will have found complete and utter happiness.

here's to many more.

Saturday, September 8, 2012


meh. work. home. dinner. bed.

right now that is my life. it's good though. i'm not complaining. but it doesn't make for interesting reading.



Friday, September 7, 2012

invisible things...

... the tenuous strings of love.

... the explosive destruction of unfulfilled expectations.

... the heavy armor of solitude.

... the tightly wound chains of fear.

... the corrosive nature of broken trust.

life is full of unforeseen pot holes in the road. but we can't stop driving just because we hit one. we have to drive more carefully and watch for signs of them. but we can still enjoy the trip.

and it's much more fun when you aren't the only one in the car.

Thursday, September 6, 2012

the silence of marriage

there is a silence that follows a marriage. a quietness that descends upon a couple like a fog kisses the dewy earth. clinging gently. a tangible sigh which caresses the cheek and alights upon the brow.

it is not a heavy silence. it is not ominous or foreboding. it does not sneak in to your waking world with stealth. it does not disrupt your thoughts. it does not wind it's way into your smile. it simply is.

this silence that covers your home like a blanket is soft. a quilted warmth stitched from whispered words of love. filled with the lightness of laughter. and scented like a thousand shared sunsets.

Monday, September 3, 2012

i SO thought i posted this...

*** this originally happened in mid'06. somehow i didn't post. mayhaps because i was so trembly with anger***

this is an email i sent to English about my dealings tonight with sonystyle and with fedex...

this is what i just sent in response to the customer service survey they sent me.

"I need to have the shipping address changed and due to your policies and contract/partnership with fedex I can not have my order shipped to my office unless my office was in the same zip code. After 4 calls (2 to SonyStyle and 2 to Fedex) I am still without a viable solution. I understand the working relationship SonyStyle may have with FedEx but the fact that neither company is willing or able to help me leaves me very unsatisfied.

I now have to take an unscheduled half day at work in order to receive my shipment. I find this to be most unacceptable however, given that I purchased merchandise from SonyStyle and FedEx will not reroute the package without your consent, this appears to be my only option.

The customer service reps were helpful and seemed understanding but were completely unable to help me. Perhaps you should consider changing your shipping policy, or going with only one shipping company (such as UPS) who will allow customers to call and have packages rerouted without the hassle."

and i was nice on the phone... and i'm sure they could hear my frustration (which is less me being
angry and more me on the verge of crying)... but they still didn't offer any solutions. i am so frustrated. i know i'm not explaining it nearly enough...

so sony shipping policy is that it is a direct signature so someone has to sign with the shipco (in this case fedex). fedex will try 3 times to deliver... if unsigned they will hold it for 3 days at their "station" (i assume dispatch location) at the end of 3 days if it's not signed and picked up they send it BACK to sony who then simply credit my card the amount i purchased the item for.
they don't at any point in time allow the customer to have it rerouted. if i were to reroute the package i call sony, if the new address is not in the same damn zip code they won't reroute it. so what's the fucking point of even having a damn thing rerouted if it has to be the same zip code? i have no where else to have it sent in this fucking zip code.

to me fedex should be able to contact the driver who handles this zipcode and have him bring the package back to the station (which i'm sure he has to fucking do anyway at some point to pick up more packages) and simply hand the package off to the driver who handles the zipcode in boston. but no. it's like, oh once it's in the drivers hands it has fucking aids and can't be touched by anybody else.

so... now. i have to take a half fucking day. or else the laptop goes bye bye back to fucking california. we are so never using sonystyle again. hate them... hate their shipping policy. and it's not all fedexs fault. the guy couldn't even get into the account because of the deal they have with sony. so even if he wanted to the guy couldn't help. he even told me to try and have a nice day since he could hear me starting to cry.

so needless to say... i've had better nights. i hate sonystyle. and i only sorta hate fedex. stupid stupid companies.

if i had mind powers this wouldn't be happening.

monday never came

she fell in love on a wednesday. as far as things go, she felt wednesday was a perfectly nice day to fall in love. there were enough days left to be distracted by work but, not too many days left, to risk forgetting the first gentle tingles of love.

the exact moment she fell in love is difficult to pinpoint. it could have been the second she noticed that the way he walked was full of an understated confidence which, she had always felt, was impossible to achieve except perhaps in movies. or the multitude of times she had lost herself in the way he spoke that she feared he would think her slow and dimwitted. or it could have been the hours she felt it took to describe the color of his hair to ever more bored acquaintances and strangers she passed on the street.

more likely however, it was the instant his eyes showered her in sincere interest. as though the deep blue orbs were in fact spotlights which drew her from the hidden depths of the background players to star at the front of the stage. the heat of his gaze stripped her bare. burning away all the layers of self consciousness and self loathing. leaving her naked and clean for all world to see and judge.

it was in that one minuscule moment that her heart whimpered in surrender and, like a puppy with her tail between her legs, her whole inner self rolled to expose her tender side in complete submission.

for the rest of the week a smile took residence upon her face. it stayed like an unexpected but welcome guest who would never over stay their welcome.

she knew she shouldn't have fallen in love. the circumstances were stacked against her like so many dusty books in a library, heavy with words and knowledge, leaning precariously, ready to tumble. she found herself clothed in the familiar layers of doubt and cynicism. she knew he would leave just as everything else that was good in her life eventually did.

when the day came she was aloof. her visiting smile was packing up it's glow and readying for departure. she pretended she didn't care, not really, not this time.

she knew he could see the truth even before her tears betrayed her performance. she knew he could see past the thin curtain of confidence into the frailty of her heart. she knew as he played his part and, gently kissed her goodbye, that her heart would never be her own again.

she fell in love on a wednesday. she thought her heart would be broken on a monday.

she never knew that monday would never come.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

flights and science

oh science. delicious science. why must you be so expensive and tiring? especially after waking up at 4 this morning. and no wifi connecting at the airport? but at least science makes bed all floofy and comfy.

does science know i will only close my eyes for a second. but be lost for hours?

can science explain why there were only three choices on the airplane for liquid refreshments? and less one for solid foodings?

oh science.

how you forsake me.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

for really?

so after many beers and many laughs... i'm home...

really? at 8pm?



the author and i had a very good "singles" valentines dinner. with much much beer... lotsa food... and an equal measure (if not more) of laughter.

so i'm pretty well tipsy. not toasted. or slaughtered. or hammered... or gazebo'd.

but tipsy.

and i just walked the 15 minutes home. which i could have taken a bus for. but given the fact i walked and didn't see a bus the entire time. i think it was good to walk.

so i think maybe i just worked off the fried calamari dinner... and the 3 pints of blue moon.

cup of tea in hand now. and i'm going to watch some tv before crashing into my aerobed for a good nights sleep.

happy valentines to you all.

and i can't believe i'm home already!

lonely heart and empty wallets...

it's now been five months since the whole thing started. we traveled to watch a dear friend place and lock the wedding shackles. and in doing so, we waived our right to be together. we gave up our place in line. handed over our wad of cash. and flew to california for a strange sort of goodbye/holiday.

we talk every day. or at least we try to. time constraints. work. the rotation of the earth. these things are hurdles.

this is the first month out of the five where i've been working. thank goodness for staffing agencies and the large expanse of massachusetts that's been corporatized. the first three months were in a delightful little town. a town that has an old timey park complete with white gazebo and a plaque reading "a main street town". it's lovely.


small. quaint. village-esque. read: not much going on.

but that wasn't the main problem. i was depressed. i get that now. i didn't really feel depressed. i just. i was just not motivated. i wasn't interested in doing a whole heck of a lot. cleaning. laundry. cooking. looking for a job. filling in visa forms. none of it.

i think lots of reason are obvious. others maybe are a bit more deeply rooted. hidden by years of undergrowth and strangling figs. you'd have to hack with a machete just to reach the spot where they are buried. perhaps dig a little with your fingers. to find more explanation for the depression. regardless. i was unhappy.

it's a vicious cycle really. you're sad about something. so you stop doing other stuff. then you get sad about the things you stopped. then about how you have no money. then about how you're lazy and aren't "really" trying to find a job. and then it's all a giant katamari ball full of little clones of your insecurity. all legs and arms wriggling. screaming and wailing. as you push yourself farther and farther. gathering speed. and collecting more of your crazy. more of your "issues".

but i'm here now. i'm working. i'm motivated. despite this weekend playing video games, i'm getting myself out. i make plans. i see people. i've been blogging *waves hand to blogosphere*. i've been reading. i've even been eating healthier.

and yet. i'm still unhappy. don't get me wrong. all the above is great. but the daily chats. the talking long distance to someone who by all rights, should be next to me. it tears at my heart. you've got to think about it. four months. of me not working. of my debt still being there. of me being depressed and lazy. he's a saint. but i can hear the weariness. as we discuss yet another problem that came up. new tires for the car. my credit card being over the limit (!). the car stalling. the challenges of feeding ourselves for less than 20 bucks a week (10 gbp for him).

this situation blows. and not the good kind like through a party noisemaker or a bubble wand. this is the really crappy kind. like a warm breeze over the thawing shit, from the neighbors giant dog, which has been buried under the snow for the past three months. or the musty smell of day old vomit and urine which wafts off the homeless dude on the bench as he sits in the sun.

so even after we cashed in my pension plan from the old office. we're still short. we have to wait til he gets paid and i get paid this week. and then, fingers crossed, i can pay the application fee.

of course. then that leaves me the small problem of working up enough funds to fly home.


Thursday, August 9, 2012

the coincidence of dreams

last night i dreamed the world was white. i built a snowman with my dad. my cheeks were tinted with exuberance and chill. my laughter crystallized and floated down to mingle with my fathers sonorous voice in the soft bed of snowflakes.

it was early morning. the sun was out. so were the stars. it just me and my dad.


i woke up this morning.

i pulled back the curtain.

the world was white.

i made a snowman about a half hour ago.

now i'm just waiting for my dad.

birthdays and singles night...

the past few weeks have been riddled with birthdays. close friends have celebrated landmark days within weeks if not days of myself and each other.

it was the author. the dm. me. the bestfriend. then my brother yesterday. tall karen and the chop share today in fact.

so as usual we do the whole count back 9-10 months. and you get to spring. twitterpated? the world in bloom so everyone gets a bit romantic?

i suppose 9-10 months back it's shortly after v-day. everyone is a bit more relaxed and loved up from cheap bouquets and heart shaped boxes full of sugar and cocoa butter.

which brings me (oddly) to the second point tonight.

singles night.

well... kinda. technically i'm not single. but i can at least celebrate v-day with single ladies.

or at the very least with the author. and as she has so adorably demanded...

flagons of mead.

if you don't hear from me for a couple days. it's because i'm working off a hangover. which i think is fair enough given v-day and my lack of an actual valentine.

mebbe i'll get the author a rose and a crappy little heart shaped box of russell stover's finest.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012


my office is located in a market place. well, the market is located on our offices butt really. so every once in a while, very much similar to a butt, the market makes it's presence known. not with noxious fumes, but with a bag of schwag. coupons, candy, random chintzy things... and gift cards to the stores in the market.


i got about $35 bucks for bananannaananaaanana republik. which means i may be able to purchase one sock from a pair. i'll put the other one on layaway.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

just call me...

spider killer.

in this new apartment i've killed two giant spiders. and i mean giant. not the boulder in your shoe type of giant. but honest to goodness giant. about an inch and a half to two inches.

last weekend the first spider crept out towards me from under the laundry pile i was folding. this teaches me one of two things. either fold the laundry sooner and don't leave it in a pile for a week or so. OR. don't do laundry. i'm going with the second. so the spider icks it's icky way towards me. i shriek in a totally dignified manner which startles the damn thing into beating a hasty retreat... into the sleeve of one of my hubby's sweaters. i weigh my options, shake out the sweater and chance having a spider land on my feet. OR... scream for the man to deal with it. i chose neither. i begin to bash the hell out of the sleeve. all while screaming "spider!" *bash* "spider!" *bash* "spider!" *bash* "SPIDER!!!" finally the man comes into the room. pushing me aside in a totally manlike manner. sweat glinting off of his bulging biceps. his long golden hair wafting in the breeze. his loin cloth stretched... "oh conan..." i gasp in a typically weak-femaled voice... wait. no. uhm.

anyway... spider bashed. husband comes in to the room and tells me to back off while he deals with it. he shakes out the sweater. out rolls the quite dead and thoroughly bashed spider. i am oh so pleased with myself at this point. i mean. i killed it. me. little me. all by myself. i gaze at him happily as he carts away my kill. surely he'll make it a trophy to hang above the mantle. an icon for us to gaze at in pride.

nope. into the bin it goes.

now, onto just this moment passed. the kitten is rolling around on the living room floor. intently focused on my purse. we assume she's engrossed in her own shadow which is the norm for her. i head to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. i walk back into the room. there, in a mexican standoff is the kitten and another giant spider. obviously this spider is here to avenge the savage bashing of it's kinsmen? kinswoman? kinspider. i can see the menacing glint in it's many eyes. i can almost hear it say, "ha-low, my name is in-eego manylegged, you bashed my fah-thar, pree-pare to die."

i gasp in fear. i contemplate tossing the water glass at it. my conanish, i mean couragous husband is miles away at the computer, listening to musak. he turns in my direction at the gasp. he see's the spider. he rises. just as he stands i grab my flipflop. position it above the icky critter. and mutter "you gotta ask yourself, do you feel lucky punk?... well, do you?" and i bash the living hell out of it.

okay, maybe it wasn't that dramatic. but i did kill it. i smooshed it under the flipflop. flipped the flop over to inspect the damage. then went quickly to the nearest chair. and stood on it until the husband had removed the remains.

yea. i am one kick ass spider killer.

i am. just ignore the fact that i am sitting in odd yoga poses in order to keep my feet off the spider infested floor.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

eee-vile genius

question: what do you do with a dozen homemade donuts which have gone stale, despite your hunny eating as many as his mouth can fit every time he walks into the kitchen?

answer: you make donut/bread pudding.

my evil genius knows no bounds!

mwahahaaa! muahahahaaa! ha. ha!



Saturday, August 4, 2012

just not right...

this... it's just not right. if anything were to disuade me from eating a christmas goose, this would be it...

just look at it!

looooook at eeeeeeet!

it's so sad.

turning of the leaves...

it's not autumn. the leaves aren't coloring. fading. or falling.

but my internal forest. the woods that hold this shell up. that keep this form moving and swaying in the breeze. those trees are changing.

storing energy. releasing life. pushing buds up from dark dead limbs. bursting open with a frenzy of petals and scent.

i am forcing my trees to stand tall. to reach outwards. to leave myself vulnerable and open.

i could allow myself to harden. to wither. to let all my leaves drop and my heart to shrivel.

but i won't.

my forest has grown. matured. deepened.

i will not let a small flurry of clouds and stormy weather determine the seasons of my heart.

i will bend. i will not break. i will be gentle. i will be strong. i will raise my arms and my eyes. i will lift my voice.

i will live.

Thursday, July 5, 2012

still surreal

it's strange to think that just over a year ago i moved from the states into a new land. even stranger still to realize that it's been almost a year since i got married. and perhaps, even more strange is that fact that we are seriously discussing buying a house so that we can have a home to raise a baby.

somehow the talk of mortgages and 3 am feedings makes all the amount of growing up i've done in the past two years seem so very inconsequential.

now, don't jump to conclusions. there is no bun in the oven. well not the non-edible kind at any rate.

but there is talk of it. and while the other half is still unsure. we are making the plans. and my goodness there is a lot of planning.

i suppose that is the problem with marrying a project manager type. everything gets listed and weighed. we don't do anything before the costs are tallied.

it is a very different way of living than i am used to. i tend to jump first. then check to see if i have a place to land. or if all else fails. i squeeze my eyes shut and will wings to sprout out of my back.

but i suppose i can't do that anymore. i can't jump anymore because i have to think about someone else's heart and not just my own. especially not if i am really thinking about being a mom.

it's all part of growing up i guess.

i don't really mind.

in a way. i think i still shut my eyes. and took a step forward. without ever really knowing what i was stepping off of.

but now. i have someone holding my hand.

and his eyes are open.


...visits with your husband. planned sleepovers.

trying to ignore any tension. pretending to unsee any elephants.

but at ease. comforted. in the falsely familiar.

treading water carefully. holding your head up high. protecting your heart from the surge of emotions and high water.

hopeful that your feet will touch land.


Tuesday, July 3, 2012

daily drudgery

life is pretty still at the moment. after the move down to warwick. it's as if we have become goldfish. growing only as large as their bowl. only we've shrunk. we venture out less. we enjoy the confines of our small home in the confines of our small town.

husband is getting into the ebb and flow of emails and paperwork which rolls over his desk. he is happy on his island of industrious labor.

i am working. it is good to get back into the routine. wake up. shower. dress. work. converse with other beings of the human persuasion. go home. make dinner. cuddle with husband until sleep calls to us.

our antisocial cat has wandered into the world outside our window. though, as a recluse she remains as unfriendly to strangers as ever. the sound of the trains and cars send her careening back into the open window. eyes wide and tail spiky. her forays into the jungle of domestic plants has given her more courage with the small rodents in our house. she attempts to sniff and say hello. but alas, the larger of the two is still very protective of her sister. and the kitten now has a small scab on her nose, the same size as a set of rat teeth.

the rats are happy. they have branched out from only owning two levels of our bookcase to now calling three and sometimes four levels home. the dvds still stand proudly on the remaining fifth level. there are tea boxes, rocks, cardboard stairs, and tin cans. a world of happy rubbish for the rats to rule. it's amazing how such small creatures can make such a large mess of your house. the mess i think is equivalent to the amount of love and entertainment you receive when you give a pair of rats a home.

so life is good. it is simple. it is day by day. a walk with my husband. hand in hand. simple.

simple and happy.

Monday, July 2, 2012

non-showered glory

so today is the second day this week where i have actually gone a full 24 hours (possibly more) sans shower.

i know it's gross. but. really. i'm ill. which actually when i think about it is even more reason i should have showered. meh.

but just because i didn't shower doesn't mean i did not have an eventful day. okay. maybe it does.

but you know... i did do stuff. stuff that did not involve me leaving the house.

i tidied my room. i now have more clean surfaces for which my clutter can grow from. i started my visa process. *fist shake* damn visas. i even put out my little collection of cookbooks that has multiplied since i arrived back in the states in september. this is not my fault. people buy my gigantormous cookbooks. crazy people. people who forget that i'll have to travel with it now since i'm kinda still in housing limbo.

let's see... what else did i do? in between my nap and dozing on the couch i also hung (snigger... i said hung). ahem. i also hung a curtain on one of my windows so that i can keep some semblance of heat in my otherwise drafty room. why only one curtain? because that's all i could find in the basement. plus at some point i actually enjoy to have the sun in my room. despite other peoples idea of me shunning the daylight.


you know. listing all the things i did today does not do much to prove the point that me not showering for a day is an okay thing. it's like the pros are disproportionately in favor of showering given the lack of any valid excuse for not doing so.


i'm ill.

i still say that excuse trumps all others.

Monday, June 11, 2012


does it hurt more because i loved so much? or because of the wedding bands?

i can't go back and change what was. and to work on what is now, seems to be fruitless to you. because you can't see past what i let you down with before.

i don't want to give up. i don't want to go. i don't want to lose you.

it's not just the "right now" feelings.

it's the fact that i actually want to fight. i want to do more than just run. or let things run their course. i want to make the effort. and though you had longer to let these feelings simmer, while i was for some reason unawares... and you enjoy your solitude... and you don't want to put any trust in me.

i will still fight.

because the me that i am when i'm with you... is worth all the little lonely me's when i'm not.

Sunday, June 10, 2012



so. tired.

3 years yesterday.

and we spent it in different places without each other.

raise your eyebrows if you want.


Friday, June 8, 2012

there and back again...

so i'm back in california... for the moment.

just a little detour before i move to the east coast... which is also just a detour before i go home.

i realize with all the strangeness in my life that i have a great selection of friends. willing to house me without rent. willing to deal with me for inordinate amounts of time. it's sweet really. though i believe the "without rent" has the unspoken caveat of "if you cook/bake for us"

it's nice though. to have people i can ask.

i hope they all know that if they ever need something...

... they might as well ask someone else to help.

just kidding! go on. ask me for help if you ever need it.

if i'm around. i'll help.

Friday, June 1, 2012

the holiday that wasn't

we had last week off. drove up to scotland. took the cat. bad idea number one. about 45 minutes into the 6 hour drive my lap was the proud home to a steaming pile of cat puke. even more unlucky for me was that we were about 20 minutes away from the services exit. after getting to the services and finding a rubbish bin to unload the nasty, i shook out the hooded sweater i had sensibly placed on my lap in case of kitty pukeage.

back on the road.

another hour or two went past.

an hour or two of happiness shattered in an instant. the first time was easier to deal with. it was more like moist cat food. the second was much more horrifying.

so we stopped at another services. shoved the cat into her litter box. and positioned it so she couldn't escape. we figured the dark would be better because she could sleep. no. every time she heard me talk she let out a plaintive wail. for 3 more hours.

when we got to scotland we took her in and locked her in the bathroom so we could get settled and so i could clean her off. you see, in the 3 hours she managed to be sick AND do major wet number 2's all over herself AND the hooded sweater which was in the litter box with her.

so now, we're all settled. the cat has food which she gulps down frantically. makes sense since her tummy was quite certainly empty. oh, one thing we forgot to mention to the wendy kitten... this house we're staying at, has 2 small children and another kitty. oh the joys that will be the introductions.

next day after some much needed sleep we all enjoyed the peaceful yowls and delicate growls of a supremely pissed off wendy.

now, we had two days of relative happiness. then monday thru thursday we had to wake up at 7:45 to take the girls to school for 9. which involved much tears and bickering. and the girls weren't much better. in the evenings it was homework and dinner. oh and trying to get the girls to eat their veggies. which involved even more tears and bickering.

then home thursday night. up early friday morning for the 2 hour drive down to london. the 20 minute line at the american embassy (which to be fair if i were not american would have been an hour or two line). then the whole passport thing. see, i lost my passport. which according to the records at the embassy is my second time at doing so. but really it's not. the first time i "lost" my passport it was simply in transit because the post office decided not to deliver it because my name wasn't on the mailbox as i had just moved into the apartment. now, normally i would sort of understand this, except i moved into an area where the names on the mailboxes changes every semester. i mean, i was living 10 minutes from harvard. duh postal people. just deliver the damn envelope. especially since they delivered mail for a dude who hadn't lived in the apartment for at least a year and his name wasn't on the mailbox either.

ahem. i digress.

so, passport. actually lost for real this time. forms filled out. payments made. oh thank goodness the american dollar is such crap right now. it only cost us 47 lbs instead of the 97 dollars. so forms done, paying done, waiting... getting scolded by the mousy embassy dude for my lost passport, agreeing to an oath from a nice american lady and having her commiserate about the not lost passport/postal fuck up. one hour later we're done. got lunch. drove home.
did some shopping for the week to come. slept.

saturday. up at 8:30 so we could leave in time to drive the 2 and half hours up to manchester. had lunch with the in laws. checked in to the hotel down the street. enough time to get changed and freshen up to walk "15 minutes" down the street to hubby's friend's parent's house. his definition of 15 minutes is really far off. i think it's the equivilent to his definition of "9 inches". so we head out to the friend's house only my cute shiny heeled shoes broke about 5 minutes from the hotel. so back to the hotel for the sneakers and then back out.

at the friend's house it was all "hi" , "how are you", "your kid is super cute" , "let's go get sloshed". from there on it's a slight blur.

not really. football game surrounded by happy boys who haven't all seen each other for a year at least. since the smoking ban footgames are much more enjoyable for me (no sneezing or smelling like an ashtray for the rest of the night). i even got a warm cake and custard dessert even though the kitchen was closed.

then it was off to another pub to play pool... or really to watch the hubby kick ass at pool. it's amazing how even after dating for 2 years you are surprised at someone's talents.

a few pints later it's dragging the hubby back to the hotel. we walked the whole way because we just couldn't be bothered to look for a taxi.

the next morning we headed back to his mum's house for some fatty breakfast and chatter. and may i just say i love me some fatty breakfast. i think black pudding is my secret love. it's just so wrong and oh so right.

then it was off to visit (or attempt to visit) some more family. we barged in on one auntie still in her pj's. finally at 2 in the afternoon we made our departure via the shopping center in manchester. i needed new clothes. probably from all my fatty breakfasts.

clothes shopping done (don't ask how it went. i hate shopping. i hate people. it was my worst nightmare come to life.) we went off for a quick lunch. bumped into a couple who's wedding cake i made. chatted. left.


then back to work the next morning.


so how has everyone else been?

Saturday, May 12, 2012


cold butter. moisture condensing on the smooth yellow surface. a little block of sunshine. cut into irregular cubes.

i drop the small lumps into a bowl of flour. silky and smooth. dry liquid. the dusty splash as the butter belly flops into the white sea. little clouds of wheat dissipate into the air. the minuscule grains flutter and land around the bowl. dusting the counter.

i smile at the moment when my fingertips first plunge into the expanse of flour. my hands undulate like a sea monster under an unsuspecting ocean liner. searching. hunting. i strike and grab my prey. sliding and spreading my fingers over and into the chilled fat. mixing the flour into the butter. quickly. with purpose. soon the once smooth sea of flour is dappled with yellow. the texture is coarse yet uniform.

a splash of icy water curdles the surface. uniformity is destroyed. clumpy and grainy. tossed about until a small amount of pressure is applied and a shape is formed. held. pressed and flattened. a disk of pure joy.

once rolled out and shaped further. this humble lump is both modest and mesmerizing. a shell for more interesting ingredients. a costar. never the main player. yet, failure with simplicity and even the best filling becomes somehow, less.

tender and strong. flaky and sincere. simple and complex. sweet or savory. hot or cold.

i take comfort in pastry.

i'm made from the same recipe.

Friday, May 11, 2012

flouncy skirts and ash-fault

lunch with the adorable ex-coworker. i flounced my way in to town. then i flounced my way to lunch with a dapper ol' man on my arm. though as he likes to describe himself he's "the leading man type in the beautifully tailored suit".

so after much laughter and a big plate of linguine in the north end of town. my dapper pal and my flouncy skirt wandered back to the college crush. i turned my nose up at the dunkin' excuse for coffee. in place of the slow drip cuppa i knew would be in the "luxury apartment home".

after a failed goodbye to my dear friend. we planned another day out. maybe to the circus.

i hate saying goodbye.

to this town. to my friends. to my family. to the history i've built here. to the history i've revisited here. i've a few days left in this town. i'm dragging my feet in leaving it.

3 days.

and yes dad. i know about the ash. but from all the reports i can see it looks good for the moment. and the moment is good enough for me. so i can only hope this moment lasts till next tuesday at the least.


cross purposes

i've been reading. nothing terribly interesting. well. sort of. relationship stuff. marital advice. trying to look into the minds of men. or at least the mind of one man really...

i suppose a bit of back history is needed.

i was raised by a woman. from a different culture. a culture where women are not really whole. not without a man. subservient. submissive. always in a way, ten steps behind. from a young age i was warned away from men. they aren't to be trusted. they only want one thing. and once they have it. they don't need you. you're dirty. you have to accept it. you just have to try to keep them happy. so they don't leave. but in the end. they will. they always do.

and so. being raised this way. quietly. i've accepted this. i may have facilitated this. i am a woman. it's my fault. it's always my fault.

but then. i'm american. i was raised by the women in film. always strong. stubborn. will minded. and strong willed. independent. bolstering my emotions with feminism. women's suffrage. bra burning. allowing myself to be man-minded. letting my libido lead the way. trying to be easy. easy going. pretending to be cold. pretending to be strong.

it's all been at cross purposes.

i'm of two minds. i always have been.

push them away before they discard you. it's always been the way. i have a trail of broken relationships to prove it. i have the notches on my bedpost as evidence.

but love them. if you don't. if you aren't loved. what are you?

let them walk on you. just don't let them walk out the door.

but you can't control them can you? you're only a woman. a girl really. crying in the corner. mascara running. heart bleeding. weak.

and alone.

you can't trust men. they'll always leave you. because they don't want to face their own fears. they haven't been brought up with emotion. they are born and raised to be men. to be strong. to lead. to dominate. to win.

but never raised to embrace their own hearts.

so how can you trust them with yours?

they're taught to argue a point. to make a decision. to stick to it. to stand up for it.

even if it's wrong.

and we're taught to embrace them. to back them. to stand in the shadows. to hold their hand. to mix a martini. to be quiet and pretty. to agree. to lay still. to smile. to accept.

even if they leave.

and they do. don't they?

so i'm left alone. for the time. unless something clicks. until some invisible switch is turned.

until then. i'm alone. with the anger. and sadness. the sharp objects that sigh against my skin. the glass that shatters in the sink. the photos that burst into flame. and my quiet pulse that begs to be let free.

but don't do it. don't hurt yourself. he says. even though the pain i cause. is never comparable to the pain he causes. my pain is only feminine.

always ten steps behind.


and shadowed.

nothing to take notice of.

until it's gone.

Thursday, May 10, 2012



there are better things to be doing. more happy things to be doing. dancing. singing. laughing. reading a book. sitting happily. enjoying silence.


i sit here. not dancing. not singing. not laughing. not reading. not sitting happily. not enjoying the silence of this flat.

this silent empty flat. where for three years we were happy. i was happy. i was complete. i was full.

now. quiet. i don't speak. unless spoken to. and here. alone. there is not one person to ask me any questions.

i spend my time. wasting it. reading articles. from other women. who have lost and regained. who have found a way to fix what was broken. i read how men need space. how we women should let them "miss" us. we shouldn't communicate. we should let them simmer. and steep. until, like a cold tea bag, they remember what it was like to be warm. to be loved. to love.

i empty bottle after bottle. day after day. week after week. tear after tear.

i told him... i told you. not to read me. so you couldn't see the pain. see the raw sadness. see the hopelessness settle around my shoulders. so you couldn't see my duality. the me that i let you see when you visit. the old me. the happy me. not the me now. the me that is broken. empty. halved by an exile imposed by governments and our own indecision. the me that is small and crying and wishing for you. wishing for you to come home. to come back. to make this strange place home again.

all the articles. tell me not to say those words. tell me not to hope. not to wish. not to beg. not to cry. not to promise. not to speak.

but they don't know me.

they don't know you.

they speak of other men. other men who left. who were somehow cajoled into returning. men who were manipulated in some way. men who were always more willing. more willing to go back. to love. to trust. to forgive.

they don't know you.

they don't know how stubborn you are. how hardheaded. how intensely you can feel. or how intensely you can chose not to feel. they don't know how you are able to forgo friends and family. how in fact, unlike the saying... you are an island. quite happy to be alone. to only worry for yourself. and how your actions can affect you. to not worry about inhabitants. people. creatures. risk. to not have any of these things.

but i think you forget. even islands have worries. they can't control the weather. the tides. the ebb and flow. these destructive powers. in so many ways much stronger than the risk of loving and trusting one person.

why do i say these things here? and not to you. direct. personally. secretively. in a way that keeps your face from going hot and red. in a secluded place where others can't see. can't read?

i feel safe here. it's my little world. surprising is the fact that i am here. i should be curled in a ball. alone. in the dark. not speaking. not letting anyone in. spiraling into my despair. like i was. during those fateful seven months.

i should be angry.

but like i said. i can't.

i don't have much left in me. i've given it all away. it's traveled. quietly. down south. tucked inside a wallet. placed in a pocket. in a coat. on your arms.

and now i lay me down to sleep... i pray for someone, my soul to keep. if i should die. before you wake. i pray for someone... to notice.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012


bleh i say. to "feelings". to "emotions". to just being a neurotic girl.


i want chocolate.

or a ticket to the uk.

either one will work.


there is no convincing. there is no further evidence.

what we had. is what we had.

what we could have is not part of your equation.

if i go. you'll be left alone. if i stay. you chose to be alone.

quiet is in order.

so i shall be.

for once.