Sunday, April 8, 2012

visiting and running for the train...

so i did a lot of running this weekend.

running down the hill to the bus stop so as not to miss the hourly bus.
running up the escalators to purchase my train tickets so as not to miss the two hourly train.
running from the car to the platform to jump on a slow moving train as i nearly missed it due to a slow moving car in front of her as she drove me to the station.
running from the subway to the bus stop only to realize the bus stopped running at that time.
running to the subway to catch the next train.
running from the train station to the street level bus stop in hopes of catching the next half hourly bus.

it's been a lot of rushing.

and in between the rushing there was much laughing, eating, baking, drinking, and celebrating.

'twas a good weekend.

Saturday, April 7, 2012


there are days when i open my eyes to the clean light filtering in past rented curtains. and i sigh in contented happiness. i stretch my limbs in feline grace. closing my eyes i wrap my hands around my heart. warming my fingers around the glossy shape as though sipping from a hot mug. i let the heat of ,my imagination circulate and ignite the nerves from my toes to my fingertips.

here on this cloud of flannel and down. curled into a ball. i am the queen of my dreams. i grow wings in an instant. i sing magic. i see past the images of our daily selves. in this moment of mostly awake and near sleep. i control the things which i can not contain. i harness the fear and anxiety. that which would make me weep can only make me laugh.

there are days when i open my eyes. only they never really open.

i am in a never ending day dream.

there is a soundtrack which follows me. the worms in the grass swim beneath my steps. the birds speak to the trees to announce my entrance. there is a stage of soft green growth and the daffodils show my mark.

i have a script to read. it is ever changing. i get distracted and forget the lines i was never meant to say. i can not remember which play it is. which scene i am in. where i am.

there are days when i open my eyes.

and there are days when i see without them.

there are days when i never need them.

i am blindly content.

i am naive and happy.

i am dreaming while awake.

contented and sad

flight tomorrow. all set. ready to jet.

flying to glasgow... transfer to london!

sigh of happiness.

only a few more goodbyes.


Wednesday, April 4, 2012

starshine and caffeine

nightime. though i am much like a tree. spreading my limbs to catch the sun. warming my veins and coming into full bloom. i often feel the need to sit in the near silence of night.

the cool air lifting the tendrils of black hair. the inky night sky blending into the irrevocable asianess of my body.

i stand. a cup of hot tea replacing the heat of sunshine. with the soft glow of city lights in place of uv light.

if only for a moment.

i count the stars. i sigh at the familiar pattern of dark hills. the curves mimic the outline of my own frame.

as much as i run from this place. this land of cars and smog.

i can't outrun my history. my heritage. my home.

a latenight caffeine fix. and a few moments of nightime solitude.

before the sun rises.

and my trembling leaves unfurl once again.

Monday, April 2, 2012

building blocks..

i wouldn't say i'm desperate for a child.

but my clock is ticking.

and like every other woman i worry that my alarm will go but i'll have hit snooze. i'll miss the bus and my body will decide without me whether i can or can not conceive.

there's a misconception. how apt a phrase. there's a misconception that as soon as you decide upon this course. this baby path. this road to familyness. that you'll be set upon by the stork within hours. that is is not a choice of when you bear the fruit. but how often.

we're bombarded with images of young mothers. too young. too many. throwing away their progeny. of women whose fertility is so strong it defies modern medicines. of women who can as much contain the virility of their bodies as mortals can capture and contain the beams of the moon.

and there are those of us who need to work a little harder. bear the insult of pokes and prods under bright lights with no hint of softness or romance. where our femininity is called up front for judgment. the female mystery laid bare and found wanting.

we go through the motions of normal life. smiling at those fortunate to have a bundle of joy. secretly wishing it was us. we fear our inner monologue is overheard. and our eyes betray our guilt.

we envy a woman in the shop. her child a beacon of our imagined failure. we wander the aisle as though shopping. stalking the lanes for our own image in miniature. we entertain the idea of lifting the squirming smiling creature from her trolley and wandering away with our purchase.

but we'd be caught of course. locked away for 20 years for child napping. no hope for parole because we are guilty. not just for stealing. but of being barren.

our husband comes to visit. the conjugal visits wither and diminish. after all he was only along for the ride. he wasn't ready for the pitter patter of little feet anyway. besides, his new girl is younger and fertile in the event he change his mind in regard to the status of his family minded ways.

"it's okay" we think, as we sign on the dotted line. that nice butch lady in the corner knows someone who can get us a baby once we get out and start a new life together.

before we know it, we've glazed over in the shop. spent 20 years in 20 seconds. and the young mother is nervously watching. seeking the sick desperation in our eyes as we gaze at her child.

so she pushes off from her perch next to the canned goods. in an act of recovery we continue with our line of sight recently vacated by the wide eyed babe. we reach forward and claim a tin of peaches. the young mother looks back. guilt filling her face. as she realizes she has blocked the store with her fertility.

and there it is.

the choking of aisles by both the barren and the burdened.

a standoff between wombs.

but i'm not desperate.

just waiting.




Sunday, April 1, 2012

lazy bitch...

so i was looking over the short list of the years in past blog posts. i only have 9 from 2009... and a whopping 12 from the year before.

*fist shake* damn you facebook. *fist shake* damn you marriage!

i like how in this year i already have like 17. this is the 18th. it's like i made a new years resolution to blog more or something.

i didn't. but wow.

what a lazy bitch i've been.