the worst could happen

my girl wanted to see me today, so i forced myself out of bed with the help of a friend who called early, way too early by my standards, but not a normal person's.

so i dialed her digits and we arranged a time. to our old haunt for breakfast, then to see the horses. breakfast was slow and leisurely. we enjoyed our time together. the drive was wonderful, we even stopped at a tack shop along the way to check out wares she might need (and ask daddy warbucks for).

we arrived at the paddock, this is by no means a farm, by no means a stable except that they board horses there. when i was told the horses were going into winter retirement and would spend the time in a "pasture" the term was loosely applied. i was appaled the first time i went, but the woman who owns it makes up for the scant setting. her gracious spirit and genuine concern for all things equine, overrode my objections. and besides, what are my objections worth anyway.

the thing that struck me first was the amount of rocks in the paddock. i made a mental note and on our way there, we decided to try to do something about it this time. we were ill prepared, and the owner laughed.

i think this used to be a quarry

she said,

rocks are everywhere. good luck.

undaunted, perhaps naive, we ambled around in the muddy paddock in our ugg boots, which was mistake numero dos. i have cleaned out my car since the relo, and, well, we don't have the proper gear stowed away any longer.

we saved our boots by deciding to not pick up rocks, i went after the garbage, a soda can, golf ball, and plastic bag were the worst i found.

so we decide instead of tethering the horses indoors to groom them (though they are immaculate under their winter coats--i expected no less), we decide the next best plan outside the muddy paddock is to let them graze. the horses made this suggestion and we obliged. spending a half hour with them ambling around the field. my daughter laughing and lounging her favorite arabian on his leadline while he grazed.

i kept telling her,

let him eat.

but she wouldn't listen.

next thing i know, she's screaming and trying to chase him.

i have the old black mare, velvet at my side, and realize since she's taken the alpha role, she'll be quite handy at herding him where we can catch him.

since there was never any possibility of my girl catching barney on foot at a canter, i called out,

get the treats.

she screams,

barney!

and i say,

the treats,

and calmly walk velvey in the direction of the arabian cantering away, tail erect, gorgeous, and lead line dangling dangerously between his feet.

barney realizes once he reaches the back pasture that there is no escape. he's fenced in and turns around toward me and velvey. we're ready for him. i sidestep and her body is angled about funneling him closer to a fence, and i am ready to reach out for his lead.

he stops short of me, after trepsing through some bushes, and turns on his heels, heading toward my child.

she is standing there, arms outstretched, treats in hand.

shake the treats,

i call.

he jerks his head up, his tails still waving like a flag at full mast. gorgeous. his mane blowing in the wind.

she holds the treats out and he walks over for one. she grabs his lead and stands there with him while i walk over. i could see she was freaked out.

i took him from her, and lead him and velvey back to the paddock, where the gate was side open, but i unclip him, he darts off, and then unclip her, and she canters away.

i close the gate, cinching the latches, and turn to see how my girl is faring. i knew she was shaken.

i wrapped her in my arms and said,

you must say goodbye to him.

she was mad, i know her. mad from fear, not anger though. and i knew i couldn't leave there with her holding a grudge against him.

so he walked over to the fence and she went up to him, velvey came over and chased him off because she thought there were more treats to be had.

but i knew it wasn't finished, and held my girl a bit longer.

go make it right, look, he's coming to see you.

and he was, barney was ambling back up the fenceline to see his girl.

he looked good. happy, if a horse can look happy.

i told her,

look at him, he is all excited because he got to run.

i went to the car and let her settle the debt between them. certain we could leave only when she came to the car of her own volition. though still visibly shaken.

we drove the hour home and talked about it all.

i have to go now, library closing. will continue this tale at a later date... ponies are well, my girl is well. all is good.

not yet recovered

belly dance this week kicked my ass, what else is new? my thighs are still on fire from several minutes of repeated hip lifts and drops. we must have done them for five minutes, which is a hella long time for something like that.

the young girl who wanted to stand beside me, did. she's so cute, her hair pulled up in a huge messy bun on top of her head, ala pebbles flinstone. and she was going at those moves like she was trying to launch the coins from her butt to the next town. so aggressive, exaggerated, it was cute. she got the form down, but i don't know that she can keep up that kind of pace. beside her, i'm all about the tight egyptian style, keeping my center and moving in small deliberate movements. not to say her movements weren't deliberate, but she definately had momentum on her side, and woe to the person who stepped into her path. it was cute. sweat was pouring down my face and body, i was exhausted, but happy.

went to get my girl for a swim after that, but she wasn't feeling well so we went to my apartment. she said,

my chair is moved again, curious.

i laughed. what can i say. i move stuff around.

but it was hard for her, because she made me this little foam heart with pony beads that spell out mom. and it fell off my fridge while she was there, it had fallen off the night before and i neglected to paste it back up sufficiently, so this was about it's third plummet. only this time, we heard a pony bead roll away. and she put her head down and cried,

it broke.

and i told her,

it's okay, we'll find it. we'll fix it.

those are the kinds of things that strike me. she has these pangs of sadness, and i can't do anything to help her through. it had been a week since i'd seen her last, and she said,

every weds, we'll go swimming or get together okay?

because i have weds off for belly dancing, i know this is doable.

yes, baby.

this seemed to make her happy. it's not like i don't want to see her, i just don't have regular days off.

i told my ny best friend this story, about the pony beads, and she cried. i hugged her and she said,

i feel so bad for her.

i do too,

i said,

but she'll pull through.

what else can i say.

my friend did note my youthful appearance and overall seeming goodhealth, it's been a while since we've seen each other. and i had the whole day for her if she wanted it. she took it and i was glad. i needed a coat. so we added that to the agenda, and after feeding me this to die for persian dish and strong coffee we set out. i found a second bathing suit, boyshort style, as i like and have worn the last two seasons. chocoate brown and pink, which is nice. but i will be covered this year, no midriff showing. which is probably good for everyone else, i don't care either way.

the next store we hit, after a fine convo with the cashier, also named suzanne, was where i found a hot pink trench coat. since i have a nyc poetry reading coming up, and no thing to wear (or no thing i want to wear), i decided to grab it and see what i could come up with.

i found a pink leopard (so tacky, i love it!) shirt to wear under the pink trench. i also got a purple zebra, and slinky black zebra number which is more for someone else who may like it. ;) if you catch my drift.

anyway, i kept telling my friend,

i don't want to be tacky.

she said,

you're not. you're confident.

and another friend suggested (upon hearing of my pending acquisitions) that he contact what not to wear. grrr.

support, i have, apparently.

the whole excursion led to many discussions about where i'm going, who i want to be. how to be who i am without subjecting myself to someone else's standard.

i don't work on wall street or in an attorney's office. the dress code is simple, so for my own life, i'm kind of a jean and t-shirt gal.

we left that store, and went to our last stop where i stumbled across a land's end goose down threequarter length winter coat for about a third of the price it was originally. i was stoked, put it on and haven't really parted with it since. it's nice to be warm.

it was a miracle i found it, but my logic was, it'll be an incredible deal if i do find one now. and it was. i had found a jacket at my old haunt, but neglected to buy it. so it got away from me, i lamented that jacket, but knew there was a better, more perfect one coming. or waiting for me to find it.

and i did, finally. it's way better than the one i would have acquired previously. and i don't look like the michelin tire man, which makes me happy.

we ended our day at the local wiccan store. they had belly dance apparel, some of which i tried on. nothing i couldn't live without. you know my mantra of late. i won't bring it home unless i love it (that applies to people and things).

we had a long discussion about how to amend some workout pants to become belly dance pants, with embellishments, and my friend produced the most gorgeous outfit she is preparing. my god it's fabulous. i was glad to be a creative consultant on that one, and was surprised at how many sewing ideas i had to pass along. it was a great time.

i went in for a physical today. i'm doing a battery of tests and visits to specialists of all kinds (i don't mean that in a scary way, just a general way), because i FINALLY have insurance and i'm going to use it.

so, the bloodwork all came back normal, she basically said,

you're in great health.

and gave me a script for a mammogram. sigh. here we go. she said it would be two months before i got in but i get to pancake my breasts in only two weeks. yay for technology. yay for pain.

only two more dentist visits and an eye appointment, which reminds me of something i need to do...and i should be good to go for another fifteen years. i don't make it into the doctor very regularly. what can i say, i'm busy.

i knew i was healthy as a horse. i knew it. every complaint i've ever had has nearly dried up and gone completely away. i do have dry scratchy fingers though, from all the dishwashing, but, i'll figure it out. someone told me to sleep with gloves on, but i don't want to.

stubborn is as stubborn does.

i have to go in to work relatively soon. i picked up an extra shift this week causing my boss no end of grief (i do what i can, what can i say?), and i believe it will be all right. he has allowed me (albeit begrudgingly) to amend my schedule to accomodate this shift, and so it will work out okay. i see why he didn't want me to do it, but i have to take care of myself now. i have to work. have to.

my body was jello after that long day though, and the happy sounds it made were just a bonus. i hadn't heard myself make happy sounds ever really. mostly, i make sad sounds. i make, i'm exhausted, the air is deflating from my balloon sounds. but not that night. curious.

i think my issues with touch are being resolved, but i've run a deficit for so many years, it will be a slow process. one i do not foresee ending anytime soon. sadly, as the case may be.

better go, getting too personal, what else is new. have to look at the proofs from the journal still and figure out what to send for my three line bio. these things stump me everytime. and i just don't know why.

it will be well. i should just say some random bullshit, she loves jello and chihuahuas come hear her read.

:D

tales time tells

william stafford's the darkness around us is deep, is a powerful piece of work. i found a few little gems i'm masticating at the moment. this, about his mother, struck me

my mother would say abrupt things, reckless things, liberated things. i remember her saying of some people in town,

they are so boring you get tired of them even when they're not around.

i don't know that my abruptness will be looked back on as a redeeming quality. time tells that tale, not my perspective.

had a meeting today, let's call it a festivus celebration. started with the airing of grievances, but unfortunately we had to quit before the feats of strength.

i got called out, i don't mind. but i defended myself, fought off the dogs baying at my heels as it were. and i think i'm supported but time will tell the tale, not my perspective, skewed as it is.

belly dancing tonight.

now, i'm trying to decompress on my "day off" when i had to go in to work anyway. and at least i was able to say some things that need to be said, and i didn't let anyone defend me because i'm quite able to defend myself. the bullshit has to stop.

see, my mind will keep hovering around that dead carcass in the road, a vulture on the thermals, waiting to dive in. i should let them land and get the stench off the road out of my nostrils. but they are large, frightening birds, and i want beauty. i've forgotten what beauty is. i felt strong today, i had to go get my fill of someone's eyes before i did stand my ground, but it helped. i knew it would.

and stood i did.

the ex is making demands and i'm inclined to get him off my back.

the mfa program is courting me still, want to hear back in the form of a deposit. which i shall return post haste.

have a couple proofs for a journal my work will appear in. god it's been years since i've had anything accepted (years since i've submitted anything), but this little gem of a journal will be a nice, long awaited prize. too long i've had to wait. i can't download the proofs here at the library because the poem is too damn good (it's bloodlust, incase you're wondering), to leave in some temporary file for some doughnut eating hacker to happen onto.

the librarian just tried to kick me off the computer because my offensive chai. i offered him the cup to dispose of, he turned up his nose and walked away. ah, i'm such a bitch.

whatever.

i need to go find a winter coat. the last one i wanted i let get away from me. but first to fulfill the demands. grr.

time will tell what my perspective cannot.

SHIT! good thing i rechecked my email. i've just been asked to read at bluestockings in NYC on 3/31. HELL YEAH! so kids, if you're in the city, come see me...

believe the bad

i've always said it, that line from pretty woman pretty much sums up my mentality,

the bad stuff is easier to believe.

so the sieve that is my mind will strain out the complement and keep the crap. what can i say, i'm broke. i keep trying to retrain my mind, but somehow, when another person is involved in the equation, it's not so easy. i keep looking at them thinking, just give it time. but then that's a fatalistic way of thinking, a way i'm trying to stop being. it just comes so naturally.

greeted at work the other day by one of the kids i adore, and he said,

i've missed your whining and your bad attitude.

which made me smile from ear to ear. and he smiled. then my tiny trainer chimed in,

and your abruptness!

and together we all laughed. i'd like for it to be a funny situation. my boss keeps telling me,

it's because it's true, it's funny.

but that isn't right. it's usually some mix of both, i guess. because i've always thought, if it's not true, it's funnier. the far out possibilities.

so i'm up, having done bloodwork at the lab, i'm going in for a physical. i feel great but i haven't seen the inside of a doctor's office for over a decade, so it's probably time. and i have to get all those horrible torturing of women tests done. can't wait for that. but i'm that age now.

that age.

what is, that age?

i don't feel old. i feel older. like i'm getting on, but i feel healthy. i think it has a lot to do with attitude. so i try to do good. god i suck at this, since i don't blog anymore, i'm just rambling on. let me tell you about my belly dance class on weds. it was the bomb.

i got there early, my instructor walked in and we perched on the rolled up wrestling mats lining the tiny auxilary gym. she is always good to talk to because she inspires me in my life. she's been down the failed marriage road, and tells me to do certain things (i didn't even think possible before she suggested them). so our classes are nice catch up times. we still have not gone out, i don't get to go out much, but that's okay.

the class starts filing in. and it's packed. they are always packed at first. i took my spot at the front of the class. it helps, i think, to have someone to watch when the instructor turns around and talks. so, i'm that girl.

a couple of high schoolers are standing in the front beside me, cute tiny little butts. but they are yammering on and my instructor told them to be quiet.

so we are doing all kinds of things, not easy things by any means, and she's very fast (not for me, but for a beginner). isolating the hips is not as easy as it appears. and for beginners, it's tough to punctuate a hip circle fluidly. that's the easiest way i can say it.

so we're doing choreography, and this semester that is my focus. i'm going to get the choreography down if it kills me. she doesn't do much of it, but i must attend to what she does. because for me, it's just enough to challenge me.

we did two horizontal hip circles in one direction, then the other, then two vertical hip circles toward the back, then toward the front.

now, young people tend to snicker at the way we have to do these things, because they aren't particularly comfortable with crouching into the seated position and thrusting the pelvis forward. then reversing the process. it's not easy, either.

so we did that for a while. then moved on to kicks, which the teens couldn't get. at the end of class they were asking me,

how long have you been doing this?

a couple years.

oh! stand by me next time.

(i was only two people away, it wasn't like i was in the back of the room). but i said,

you're young, you'll get it quickly.

so one of them stayed there with me and asked how to do the kick, because she couldn't get it. it's not the easiest move, and i realized how belly dance centers on a midline. for this kick, your knees trade off the midline position, the balls of your feet literally touch each other, and you pedal your heels. once you get the form down, you can get speed. not the other way around. it was tough, that was certainly heavily aerobic, and the class felt my instructor's wrath.

but i loved it. ached for days. i could feel muscles in my body that i've neglected, and that feels good. i mean, truly, when do you work out your thighs and buttocks? it's not an easy area to pinpoint.

i'm improving a lot too. so i'm doing what the instructor does, but adding my own shit in. and that is just how it's going to be. i can't go back. i have to move forward. she understands this, and i think the class will benefit from it in the long run.

she told me, last semester,

you dance really well, and the energy of this class is good.

i hope it's a productive semester. at least it will help me dance through my days and remind me of what matters. i tend to disconnect from my body still, unless i'm driving it, working it, dancing it.

i have a dear friend in orange county who has invited me to many belly dance things, maybe this semester i'd be up for performing something for a group of belly dancers. i don't know. not sure i'm there yet.

it oozes out of me though, like yesterday at work, and all last week. i can't help it. the kids laugh and we dance a little. so that's good.

i must away, work soon.

and an irresistable force later.

not yet let go

i keep trying, i really do. and i've plenty of diversions now, though not enough to keep a mind like mine occupied, but plenty for the average person. i shouldn't have to look back over my shoulder, or think about how much i'm trying not to remember. but sometimes i do.

my girl and i tracked down her beloved horses the other day. it was a nice drive, and i actually saw a swan. my vision has not failed yet. that is scant comfort.

there are no words for this place. i should not have checked my email, it only served to anger me.

and i'm not very nice when i'm angry.

i must go now, burn off this latest frustration.

safety

sometimes i see you on the periphery of my life, i don't even look up long anymore. i just keep driving. it will take more than a flyby to get my attention. i'm pretty much over it.

at the hudson yesterday i saw this bird, flying high, higher than usual, higher than most. sure enough, it was a bald eagle. just winding its way higher and higher making the most graceful spirals through the sky following the course of the river.

we have not long before we must choose some road. right now, it's about taking care of me, putting humpty dumpty back together again. or at least gathering up as many scattered bits as i can and making a mosaic. i'm everywhere. demands are still more than i can manage, but it's sometimes easier. honesty helps.

my boss asked,

why do you take things out on me?

because you're safe.

which is a good and bad thing. but we're both short of boundaries in the same ways and so we muddle through. it's figuring out how everyone else fits in the puzzle that is my dilemma. not that i fret over it, just that i have to do something with those pieces. i must grow. i must develop the vision. i must move forward.

more often than not, healing the broken bone means more pain, setting it aright. filling the decayed tooth means grinding out the infected site, and beyond, into the healthy portion.

last night we were driving through the mountains, not him, someone else, and he asked why i tan so much in the summer.

i'm not saying i'm impervious to damage. if that's what you mean.

right.

i bake myself from the outside, while you bake yourself from the inside.

for you see, those i love now, all seem to smoke. i even took a drag recently, first time in a great while and i had a day from hell. it was not horrible. i can see how people find it to lean on. i'm not so wobbly as all that now, and it's foolish to pick up that kind of habit now. plus, i'm privy to plenty of second hand smoke, if i want to vicariously smoke now, i can. it's everywhere.

i don't know how to help those i love. and they don't know how to help me. all we can do, i think, is as little damage to each other along the way. we're all fucked up in different ways. the trick is, the key is,

finding someone who's not afraid of your shit. and loves you even when they know the worst thing about you.

or so i'm told.

and i tend to believe it.

because he writes

so my boss is worse than a group of prepubescent girls. i told my friend at another store something, he tells my boss, who tells me not a half hour after i'd hung up the phone. i get to work this am, five am, mind you. bright and early, to be greeted by a dear kid i adore, who tells me what i said on the phone.

who told you,

i asked.

guess.

but i knew. sigh.

he said,

everyone knows everything.

i guess.

i said, but it was payback for something i heard and mentioned to him that he had told someone else. who probably shouldn't have told me. what goes around, i guess is what's coming around.

better be careful what i say. at least my words are coming back to me, not some crazy operator game where things are all confubbled. the truth is confused enough, i guess.

so we had a great morning, one of the girls who can't stand my guts was scheduled to come in and when she did, the mood shifted dramatically. finally, i forced her to talk to me. i gave her no out. she had to stand there and scream at me for all i cared, but it was going down.

my boss walked in in the middle of it and said,

good.

and left us alone to have it out.

we did. it's better now.

ultimately, i apologized for percieved (or accurate) bitchiness. and told her,

call me out on it. i'm not perfect. if i make a mistake, tell me about it.

when i became mother theresa, and no one could speak against me i don't know but i never asked for that role. so i told her,

let me know when i blow it.

then i apologized sincerely, and asked her to do what i initially asked her to do before she started pouting.

she did. the mood lightened about ten thousand degrees. it was such a downer working with her before, i trust it will be markedly improved in the near future.

then my boss came in and i got on him about slacking (you see i'm the same bitch with everyone, i'm no respector of persons), and my boss loves that i call everyone on just about everything. people don't call me on shit because i call myself.

so, that's it. i need to go home and crash, i'm tired.

five am is waaaay too early, but i loved it. we had a blast this morning and did a fine job. the girl's argument was that she knows the customers and drinks. and i told her,

i need to get to know them in the am, because i'll be opening too.

and she said,

we have a way of doing things,

and i said,

but i'm the supervisor.

she said no more. i think the point has been made, and that she agreeably stood on the other side of the counter and told me what drinks to make pleased me and my boss to no end.

what a nightmare that was.

my god am i that difficult? my boss says, with a grin,

YES!

sssshhh!

i have a confession to make, and i can tell you because you're the soul of discretion. and no one can hear, it's just me telling you. leaning in, whispering in your ear. i like it that someone responds to what i'm wearing. that it gets noticed. that they say,

you look thin today.

that the blue polish on my toes and fingers gets met with approval and smiles. that they like my platform black sandals, though this is not why i wear them. neither is it because i'm so much taller with them on, a towering five two or three, to be exact. but they make me smile, and i think i return the favor. i'm not perfect by any means, they know this, i know this. but it's nice to have them there to appreciate what i can do well.

i got to play secretary a bit today, and that is a comfortable role for me. it comes so easily. so mindless to me. and so, i did it and enjoyed it. working on my day off again, i know, but we are in precarious times and i need to do what i can to help my store. it is the bigger picture i'm after here.

plus, my boss and i have a certain rapport which i enjoy.

he amuses me,

i told a manager from another store who commented on how i could run our store alone.

i wouldn't

i said,

he amuses me.

he makes me forget what i'm trying not to remember. or, reminds me of what i've forgotten, i'm not sure which it is. perhaps some of both. perhaps some of both.

and that he wants to talk to me about the breathtaking moments in my poems, not him, somone else. this pleases me deep down because it has been years, literally years earning this one's respect. and i do not take it lightly, the confidence of another poet. though to hear me tell it now, i do. i'll never change.

we're supposed to go out friday night. not him, someone else. and i hear,

you're dating.

and i say,

no.

but they don't believe me. and i don't know how to explain it so i don't try. it's not a date though. it's just a friend whom i've met. that's all i can say.

men are not supposed to be and certainly are not my prime motivators, but i do enjoy their company. always have. i hadn't realized there are so many variables. i guess i didn't have to realize it before. but now, i'm trying to think through things and be wise. to not make foolish decisions or impulsive decisions. as easy as it would be to be wild now, hedonistic as i once said, i can't. i'm not wired for that. it takes too much of a toll on me, and i'm still waiting for you. i'm always waiting for you.

so while i spend time in the company of others, now more men than ladies (so strange), i wonder where you are. i still leave the door unlatched and have a bag packed incase you decide to show up.

comfortably numb

it's hard not to try to separate myself from the pain. but life is pain. anyone who tells you different is selling something.

i'm in a curious place where i'm not sure what to do, or how to go about doing it. i am just trying to be honest and move forward. (same old story, i guess)

went to get a manicure/pedicure today. i needed to be pampered a bit. i can feel how fragile i really am when i'm all alone, no one bolstering me. no one to survive. just me to look after, my desires to fulfill. it's curious. and i could miss it if i'm not paying attention.

but i crave nothing at the moment. i walk around the grocery and nothing appeals to me. i walk around the store, there is nothing i want or need. i have a few things on a list in my mind, but i don't feel like getting them so i'm making due. i don't want anything.

i needed my books though. in my frenzy to grab everything that mattered to me (and i still have one thing that i keep overlooking), i neglected my books, because they were "just my books" and i only had so much time and carspace. not to mention i'm in a studio not a sprawling ranch style home like in texas.

anyway, i finally have them. i've not yet unboxed them as i'm not sure where to put them, but they are there. it was prompted by being in the bookstore with a friend and i saw one of my books on the shelf. i opened it up and read a poem to him. i knew right then that i needed those books more than anything. i had to have them around me to help me through this. if for nothing other than the psychic comfort they provide.

and so, i do. i will have my girl a couple days next week, she has spring break. she's stoked because she's only been in school two weeks and has a week vacation coming. we plan on tracking down her horses, the ones we love, and going to visit them. they've been split up, and her instructor has changed barns a couple times since our last visit (my girl is still riding, but i'm not involved in that anymore because i'm not paying the instructor. sigh).

it matters more that she rides than i get to spend whatever time i desire around horses. and if i really desire to spend time with them, i can find some and go spend time with them. but i'm not there. it's too much to extend myself that way. i still have nothing to give.

all this from a pedicure. but as i'm sitting there being mildly pampered (it is by no means a spa experience), i am grateful for the small comforts i left my husband to maintain. he objected to pedicures. even to me buying fresh cut flowers. the man never understood me, i don't know how we even hooked up or why.

it's strange not having my girl with me, but the times we are together now are much, much better. i couldn't separate her out or protect her from the madness i was experiencing and feeling at that place, what we called our home in the loosest sense of the word.

but now, she is soundly apart from it all, and i'm grateful. she cried when i went to drop her off the other night. she's not used to it. neither am i. but what has to be is what is, and i'm grateful for the time to be close to her again.

i must away. i don't want to be here, and where i'm going i probably don't need to go but friends want me there and so i shall appear. i shall find my way into their arms and their eyes, if not their hearts.

peace.

not the same as i was

it's hard to find words to say this, to make it clear because i've so many of the same faults, so many of the same issues, so many of the same tendencies. but i'm a completely different person. the woman you left is dead. she has never found her way out of grief, the person i am today is someone else.

and it makes me wonder what makes us who we are? some crazy convergence of coincidence or some determining factor, genetics, shall we say. some bullshit accident, or fate?

i don't know. i don't believe in anything these days. i find the word faith hollow. and i had someone recently say,

i thought it was faith but i was just being an idiot.

and how many times i think that's what i've done. walked blindly across the train tracks when the train is bearing down and believed it would all be well.

but there was always someone to swoop in and help me, to show me how brave i was to step out, when i knew the train would slam me upside the head and leave me scattered and in bits.

i'd like to think i've pulled it all back together. i've found the parts of me strewn endlessly strewn all over new york. but i haven't. i have a feeling some of me is in california, arizona, and texas too. some bits i'll never get back. that jersey sees more of me than anywhere, and, well, i'm tired of not being whole.

i don't even know what that word means anymore.

wholeness.

wholesome.

some holes, for sure. many holes is more like it.

i've got to get to barnes and noble tonight. i'm missing the second book in the twilight saga. always late to the party i am. but the fanfare and crowds have never interested me. so i'm just grateful when i finally arrive.

and well, as usual, i'm late.

and in the mail today, plr #37, finally published. i'm in it. and wouldn't you know, i find the most mixed up poet in the book (aside from me, of course) to strike up a friendship with.

classic.

reacquainting silences

there is no sound, no noisy siren outside my window going off every night at 7pm and sporadically as people nearly off themselves or minor fires need abating. no police sirens as they zoom in and out, no early morning trash truck dumping the dumpsters in the adjoining lots, lids crashing as i sleep, or try to. no foot traffic, no buzz of cars or rumble of trains, bells gently tingling in the middle of the night. i always loved that sound, of all that was my favorite noise.

of all, i think i have too much time on my hands now. what i thought would be happening, is not. how many times i have said this. it makes me wonder why i plan at all (though, you know i don't plan, so it's a strange quandry for a non-planner such as i).

i just enrolled for another semester of belly dance. i need a diversion. a clan of women is a good one. the women i work out with still annoy the shit out of me, but i've been a top loser for months now. probably six months or so. i'm sure they are sick of me too. today i forced myself to go, and while i only lost one pound, the inches are what are melting away now, and that pleases me more than the pounds. it's one thing to stuff yourself, muffintop and all into your skinny jeans. it's quite another to have no alternative but your skinny jeans, the others literally fall off my hips now, and this gives me a perverse pleasure. perverse, only because i like the word. ;)

so, i've not changed. what a surprise. i'm frustrated by my constancy. my pettiness. my emotionalism (overly so, some might add). but without the outlet of words, these pressures become volcanic. and i blew last night. though i had no intention of it. and though i try not to.

what can i say. beware the lone poet who is not writing. i guess i'm like a cannon now in some ways. able to blow a hole through men who cross me. though i think i had this ability before, now i'm just not stemming the destruction, just letting shit fly. i guess because i have a lot on my plate. that is a likely excuse. but i'm trying so hard to behave, to be "on" at work. to be "happy" and make it "fun". i summed it up for a co-worker,

people want you to lie to them. and i just can't.

that's what it comes down to for me. though i know no one wants to walk in for a coffee and be bummed out, i just know i like to encounter genuine human emotion not some trumped up pseudomaniacal frenzy that they've mustered just for me. it allows me the option of compassion. (or, pisses me off, but that is my own issue).

so, the bottom line is, i will just have to suck it up and play nice.

i have to stop caring, being overly involved, concerned, whathaveyou for things beyond my control. this has always been my central issue. i have to reel it all in and establish some fucking boundaries and, well, i'm just finding it difficult at the moment.

so i'm trying not to vent, not to blow off steam in this way, but i know this is my outlet and i shouldn't neglect it, or shit happens. and it ain't good. all i can ask for is a little understanding.

the place where i park my car is a sheet of ice. i need to do something about it before i fall on my ass. i tell myself this as i navigate the slick, but do i, no. i keep taking my chances. lost my front license plate, not sure how. my girl thinks the sapling did it because i touch a sapling when i park up to this tree. and the sapling was getting mad about it, apparently. i'm grateful for the sapling because invariably i'd hit the tree if not for the sapling. but, and she's probably right, the sapling isn't too keen on being my bumper guard. what can i say, still having too many conversations with inanimate objects.

or are they?

i miss my bunny. held him yesterday. i know they plan on getting rid of him, but i'm trying to devise a means to have him by me so i'm not so horribly alone. i don't mind being alone, mind you, i just know having someone other than the meece will help me not be lonely.

i've made awful decisions in my life because of loneliness. and my entire marriage was an exercise in making right decisions while grappling with loneliness, i'm just trying not to be a...

phone call.

i must away. to quote a line from a favorite movie,

i must go where i am invited.

peace. out.

here is where i come

to lay them down, these thoughts, these burdens. to skim off the fat of pain and grief, and get down to the distilling liquer of life. whatever that means, i'm not sure. but i've missed it. being here. rambling though it may seem. i've not had inclination to pick up pen or peck at keyboard for sometime now. and while i lay in bed this morning, body aching all over from having been bedridden for two days, i mustered the strength to strip off the sheets, toss it all in the wash, and begin my day afresh. full of meds, but moving. that is something.

i'm not sure if we succumb to sickness more easily when we're sad of heart, or if the timing is just uncanny. but in my grief, i lay down and did not get up for two days. though i would have pried myself off any bed and gone to meet her. but she said,

no mom, not if you're sick.

and so i lay there in my haze and rested.

i was grateful for the reprieve because one need not go swimming when sick, it leads to worse sickness. but i miss her. and wonder along with my friends if there wasn't something else i could do? i can sum it all up so easily, make it stand upright and look pretty. make it make sense. but then, at those moments, nothing makes sense. and i have to ask myself, did you make the right choice?

and lying abed, alone, i still had to answer, yes.

i cannot see the good that will come of this. all i can see is the broken glass and blood trails from crossing over, but in time i won't recoil at the pain, i will find a way to function in spite of it. and it came to me today, that i would rather be absent in body and present in spirit, than present in body and absent in spirit. i grew up with detached parents and i can't do that to her. but it seems my only way back to attached engaged parenthood is by utterly and completely severing the ties and walking away. complete detachment.

convoluted and strange, i know. but it is what it is.

and i won't be able to put it into words for a while. i'm just feeling it now, living it. maybe in july when i start my mfa i'll find my way to some words. maybe then, i'll begin to understand what it means to articulate the choices i've made. at the moment, they descend like a cloud bank hovering over a mountain. and i can no more grasp them than make them leave. so i just walk through mist and shadow, trusting.

after all this, i still trust.

he said to me,

i don't trust you anymore.

which is fine, because i stopped trusting him ages ago. it just makes things more complex is all. and i'm not divorced yet, or even legally separated, just estranged as they say. and this is no comfort to me. this feels like i'm living a lie. i would like to be apart, away from him in name and deed forever. but won't be. i know this. as long as she is mine and his at the same time. we will be in the periphery of each other's lives. i had thought it would be different though. i'm naive. what can i say.

the snow flurries dance on the breeze and it's grown cold. the train whistles in the distance carrying so many where they need to go, and i am here, wondering where i'm headed. if my choices are sound and what comes next.

there are no wrong choices, i believe this. we must live with the consequences of any decision we make. it remains to be seen what will come of this, as so many other things. but i trust. that, perhaps, is my worst liability.

i stand, palms up and arms open, trusting it will be well.