why is it that the broken girls in movies are always the most desirable. their flaws make them interesting and attractive. and the leading man comes to their rescue and holds them close. in real life, broken is too much work. the leading men want to have fun. they want the benefits without the effort.
i got an email from my father last week. and it left me reeling. vulnerable and insecure. and my leading man laid the last straw when he casually announced things were moving really quickly. not necessarily "too" quickly. "really" quickly. i spiraled off the handle. all i could hear was that he was bailing. and while he promised he wasn't going anywhere. was only requesting that i be patient with him, i couldn't calm myself enough to hear him. to believe him. and so now i have damaged something good. and i am not quite clear of the exact fallout. we have yet to hang out again. and i am left feeling rejected and scared. and angry that i am thirty-one and my father still has the power to swoop in out of no where and rock my entire being. i hate that he has that power. and i want to take it back. i want to feel safe and secure.
i want to not feel. not this. not again.
i want to take a lot of drugs and fuck my co-worker. and forget.
i wont.
but i want to.
i want it to stop hurting. i want to be okay.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
in these bodies we will live. in these bodies we will die. where you invest your love, you invest your life.
my downstairs neighbor had a psychotic break. the police came to take her to the hospital yesterday. i wasn't home to witness it. i just heard the words left on my voice mail. and felt some sense of relief. and an overwhelming guilt. i should have done more. i should have recognized it. i should have known, walking with her through town on the way home, that she wasn't drunk. she was broken.
saturday night was supposed to be girl's night. me. rae. baines. drinks and dancing. putting the past week's poor decisions behind me. forgiving myself for letting my guard down. same story. different boy. i'll never learn. but when they tell you that you are beautiful and ask you where you've been all these months, you want to trust that what they say is true. that when they kiss you, they feel it. and when they tell you they want to be around you as much as possible, you close your eyes and take a deep breath and enjoy it. don't run. this is what you wanted. he's the nicest boy in town. all your friends say so. and he holds you close and whispers that he wants to be with you. with hands full of your brown hair, he draws you to his chest. he whispers that he wants you. just breathe. this feels nice. don't run.
he'll do that soon enough.
it was supposed to be girl's night, but we spent the evening looking for kat. trying to get in touch with her mom. and listening to her strange tangents. strings of disconnected thoughts. but there was nothing we could do. not unless she was a threat to herself or someone else. fuck the system. that pathetic helpless feeling it leaves you with. suffocating you. heavy heart. tears in your eyes. i sat in the sheridan listening to kat, but seeing my sister. all the pain i tried to escape has found it's way to my doorstep. literally. and now i'm involved. invested. and devastated. and all i can do is wait.
kat fires off an hour of attacks. she doesn't know god cause he's not from our generation. but i pray that he'll save me from this scene. lift me out. make it go away. i don't want it to be true. i don't want to be experiencing this. and the guilt cuts deep. i dash for the lady's room. and all i can see is my sister strapped to the hospital gurney. and my mother holding her hair while she vomits charcoal. and tylenol. and entire bottle of tylenol. and i am no where to be found. and i can feel that helplessness. the overwhelming pain in my mother's eyes. and i want to crumble to the floor. but i am standing in some drunk girl's way in the sheridan and kat is in the parlor leaving clues for her love to find. a scavenger hunt to her heart. it all makes perfect sense in her head. and i can see the pieces. it all sounds so familiar.
but we get her to calm down. she apologizes for verbally attacking me. says that i am a safe place and i have to look out cause they will hurt me. don't let the fathers hold me down. don't let them hurt the babies. and she goes to her hotel room. and i wander down main street. and meet a friend at the bubble. turns out the boy behind the bar isn't the nicest guy in town. i got schmoozed. so i wave hello because sometimes i am pathetic. and i walk home under star laden skies. and i climb into bed. defeated. dooped. guilty and broken. and i cry for my sister. and for my mom. but i don't dare call her. she has too much to worry about as is.
sunday morning finds me walking through town. coffee. and marley dog. on my way to church. but kat is wandering the streets also. on her own mission. she is freeing her possessions. donating all her things to the freebox. i watch her lurch down the street with an armload of skis. clothes. picture frames. and i try to convince her to stop. so she takes my hand and leads me down the stairs to her apartment. she wants me to choose something special. something to cherish and give to someone i care for. to give it a new life. a better life. and she pulls out her book. a duct taped binder full of poems and songs. a stack of her work compiled in a beat up three ring notebook. and she offers to read me a page. and she holds my hand. and i stroke her hair. and i cry as she loses her voice at the difficult lines. the lines that pierce her heart. and she tells me she is angry. and she wants to kill people. and she wants to kill herself. and i tell her she is safe. and i rub her back. and make her slow her breathing. deep breaths. and she tells me she knew we were supposed to meet. and thanks me for being her strength today. she didn't have anymore of her own at the moment. and i go upstairs to call for help. and collapse into jane's arms. and she comforts me. and talks me off my ledge. and kat makes another trip to the freebox. this time with her guitar. and it's gone. and the police are called. and i go to brunch and drink mimosas in the sunshine. and pretend i wasn't just kneeling on the floor in the basement, crying because i was helpless. and scared. and angry. and guilty. and i lay on the floor of my friends' apartment and cheer for spain. and talk about antartica and it's global warming/hose potential. absurdities that help me pretend that this isn't my life. i snuggle in between ben and paul and talk about hiking wilson so i don't have to think about kat. and the police. and my sister. and handcuffs and restraints. and lithium. and how i am the worst daughter for leaving my mom alone to deal with everything all these years.
and i return home to find kat's mom on our porch. i ask her how kat is. and she fakes a smile and says she isn't doing too great. and i say i know. that my sister has mental illness too. and she says, "then you do know." and my eyes well up. and i nod because the knot in my throat has strangled my words. and she nods back. and i offer any help. and she hugs me. and for a moment we are comforted by our shared pain. it has meaning. it has value. and she leaves quietly. and i feel so much love for my own mom in that moment. and then i change for work and pretend that i am a bartender in a ski town and i'm living the dream.
"But memory fades, tricks, becomes convenient, reshapes itself. It’s been [nine] years..." just breathe. sometimes that's all you can do. and sometimes, even that feels nearly impossible.
saturday night was supposed to be girl's night. me. rae. baines. drinks and dancing. putting the past week's poor decisions behind me. forgiving myself for letting my guard down. same story. different boy. i'll never learn. but when they tell you that you are beautiful and ask you where you've been all these months, you want to trust that what they say is true. that when they kiss you, they feel it. and when they tell you they want to be around you as much as possible, you close your eyes and take a deep breath and enjoy it. don't run. this is what you wanted. he's the nicest boy in town. all your friends say so. and he holds you close and whispers that he wants to be with you. with hands full of your brown hair, he draws you to his chest. he whispers that he wants you. just breathe. this feels nice. don't run.
he'll do that soon enough.
it was supposed to be girl's night, but we spent the evening looking for kat. trying to get in touch with her mom. and listening to her strange tangents. strings of disconnected thoughts. but there was nothing we could do. not unless she was a threat to herself or someone else. fuck the system. that pathetic helpless feeling it leaves you with. suffocating you. heavy heart. tears in your eyes. i sat in the sheridan listening to kat, but seeing my sister. all the pain i tried to escape has found it's way to my doorstep. literally. and now i'm involved. invested. and devastated. and all i can do is wait.
kat fires off an hour of attacks. she doesn't know god cause he's not from our generation. but i pray that he'll save me from this scene. lift me out. make it go away. i don't want it to be true. i don't want to be experiencing this. and the guilt cuts deep. i dash for the lady's room. and all i can see is my sister strapped to the hospital gurney. and my mother holding her hair while she vomits charcoal. and tylenol. and entire bottle of tylenol. and i am no where to be found. and i can feel that helplessness. the overwhelming pain in my mother's eyes. and i want to crumble to the floor. but i am standing in some drunk girl's way in the sheridan and kat is in the parlor leaving clues for her love to find. a scavenger hunt to her heart. it all makes perfect sense in her head. and i can see the pieces. it all sounds so familiar.
but we get her to calm down. she apologizes for verbally attacking me. says that i am a safe place and i have to look out cause they will hurt me. don't let the fathers hold me down. don't let them hurt the babies. and she goes to her hotel room. and i wander down main street. and meet a friend at the bubble. turns out the boy behind the bar isn't the nicest guy in town. i got schmoozed. so i wave hello because sometimes i am pathetic. and i walk home under star laden skies. and i climb into bed. defeated. dooped. guilty and broken. and i cry for my sister. and for my mom. but i don't dare call her. she has too much to worry about as is.
sunday morning finds me walking through town. coffee. and marley dog. on my way to church. but kat is wandering the streets also. on her own mission. she is freeing her possessions. donating all her things to the freebox. i watch her lurch down the street with an armload of skis. clothes. picture frames. and i try to convince her to stop. so she takes my hand and leads me down the stairs to her apartment. she wants me to choose something special. something to cherish and give to someone i care for. to give it a new life. a better life. and she pulls out her book. a duct taped binder full of poems and songs. a stack of her work compiled in a beat up three ring notebook. and she offers to read me a page. and she holds my hand. and i stroke her hair. and i cry as she loses her voice at the difficult lines. the lines that pierce her heart. and she tells me she is angry. and she wants to kill people. and she wants to kill herself. and i tell her she is safe. and i rub her back. and make her slow her breathing. deep breaths. and she tells me she knew we were supposed to meet. and thanks me for being her strength today. she didn't have anymore of her own at the moment. and i go upstairs to call for help. and collapse into jane's arms. and she comforts me. and talks me off my ledge. and kat makes another trip to the freebox. this time with her guitar. and it's gone. and the police are called. and i go to brunch and drink mimosas in the sunshine. and pretend i wasn't just kneeling on the floor in the basement, crying because i was helpless. and scared. and angry. and guilty. and i lay on the floor of my friends' apartment and cheer for spain. and talk about antartica and it's global warming/hose potential. absurdities that help me pretend that this isn't my life. i snuggle in between ben and paul and talk about hiking wilson so i don't have to think about kat. and the police. and my sister. and handcuffs and restraints. and lithium. and how i am the worst daughter for leaving my mom alone to deal with everything all these years.
and i return home to find kat's mom on our porch. i ask her how kat is. and she fakes a smile and says she isn't doing too great. and i say i know. that my sister has mental illness too. and she says, "then you do know." and my eyes well up. and i nod because the knot in my throat has strangled my words. and she nods back. and i offer any help. and she hugs me. and for a moment we are comforted by our shared pain. it has meaning. it has value. and she leaves quietly. and i feel so much love for my own mom in that moment. and then i change for work and pretend that i am a bartender in a ski town and i'm living the dream.
"But memory fades, tricks, becomes convenient, reshapes itself. It’s been [nine] years..." just breathe. sometimes that's all you can do. and sometimes, even that feels nearly impossible.
Monday, May 17, 2010
there are no mistakes. there's what we do. and what we don't do.
never in my life have i been in a situation to decide between two jobs. "do what's best for you," offered my good friend when i questioned what to chose. i don't know what that means, entirely. what if i make the wrong decision? does that even exist? i am torn between a position at the hotel which will provide status and experience and a dependable income. but at the expense of early and long hours and an inflexible schedule. i can already feel myself dripping with jealousy and resentment as all my friends gather for dinners and concerts and ultimate frisbee...and i am tucked away in mountain village. or i could find myself behind the bar at brown dog. the restaurant that i left this winter. i am forcing them to make a decision as to whether or not they will offer me more than the lowly server's position. a better wage and a four day week makes me want to settle back in at BDP. the flexible schedule and free access to festivals makes this summer sound promising and exciting. but will i feel like a failure. for stepping down the ladder? is that even a valid concern? i came here for community. i came here for adventure. fulfilling demands for omlettes and cappucinos doesn't seem very adventurous.
i need money. but i feel the richest when my heart is satisfied.
i need money. but i feel the richest when my heart is satisfied.
all my life i've been searching for something. something i can put my finger on.
i have been trying to capture the proper words to describe my adventures east. the city tour twenty-ten. but nothing seems to properly encompass the feelings i felt while sitting across the table from some of my favorite people. sharing meals and conversations. walks through parks and rooftop sunsets. i am so grateful for these moments. and i carry them with me even at this present moment.
brianna and i are never in the same city. but i love her to little bity pieces. hey friend, i hope you are stalking me! because i love that we share our lives so intimately and openly. i love your heart and your spirit. and i hope someday we can make dinner parties a weekly event!
cuddling with erin. or not. since the pillow barrier made the point quite clear :) dinners at the nut. hanging with the family. planning adventures. sharing our hearts. i miss my sis.
wedding fun. lunch at the biscuit. helping my sister, lauren, move into her new life. it's amazing to be this comfortable with someone. to pick them out as "mine" and have them pick me too. I knew we would be friends. i love that we are family.
bonding at the dog parks. filing each other in on the past year. and the comfortable feeling like i just saw katie last week. colorado adventures. big risks. love this girl.
sitting next to alex, i am reminded of what a wonderful man he is. being drawn into those endless conversations. reminds me of what i should be looking for. grateful for what we had. a year gone by and it seems like yesterday. telluridian magic.
the sound of sarah's voice echoing "audie" as the elevator doors opened to reveal my long lost friend. a wound healed. my heart is happy.
finding sameness in johanna's life. laughing at the thirteen years of distance and the remarkable similarities in our stories. and her cleaning pep talk: gotta make it clean like audrey's bedroom. all these years and that has stuck with her. too funny.
blackened soles. charcoal aromas. grilled tofu made especially for me. jam's curls and adorable style. and the way she always asks questions about you. i miss my roommate. our beach days on the front lawn. what a warm spirit.
i knew i was going to know kyle for a long time. but sitting in a living room in denver, drinking beers, and watching him and mike play rock band with friends is a welcomed surprise. things always end up better than i ever could have planned.
i already miss you all. and hope to see you very soon, indeed.
brianna and i are never in the same city. but i love her to little bity pieces. hey friend, i hope you are stalking me! because i love that we share our lives so intimately and openly. i love your heart and your spirit. and i hope someday we can make dinner parties a weekly event!
cuddling with erin. or not. since the pillow barrier made the point quite clear :) dinners at the nut. hanging with the family. planning adventures. sharing our hearts. i miss my sis.
wedding fun. lunch at the biscuit. helping my sister, lauren, move into her new life. it's amazing to be this comfortable with someone. to pick them out as "mine" and have them pick me too. I knew we would be friends. i love that we are family.
bonding at the dog parks. filing each other in on the past year. and the comfortable feeling like i just saw katie last week. colorado adventures. big risks. love this girl.
sitting next to alex, i am reminded of what a wonderful man he is. being drawn into those endless conversations. reminds me of what i should be looking for. grateful for what we had. a year gone by and it seems like yesterday. telluridian magic.
the sound of sarah's voice echoing "audie" as the elevator doors opened to reveal my long lost friend. a wound healed. my heart is happy.
finding sameness in johanna's life. laughing at the thirteen years of distance and the remarkable similarities in our stories. and her cleaning pep talk: gotta make it clean like audrey's bedroom. all these years and that has stuck with her. too funny.
blackened soles. charcoal aromas. grilled tofu made especially for me. jam's curls and adorable style. and the way she always asks questions about you. i miss my roommate. our beach days on the front lawn. what a warm spirit.
i knew i was going to know kyle for a long time. but sitting in a living room in denver, drinking beers, and watching him and mike play rock band with friends is a welcomed surprise. things always end up better than i ever could have planned.
i already miss you all. and hope to see you very soon, indeed.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Every day counts. One night matters.
i have had some down time lately. no one is in town. i am currently unemployed. and it has snowed the past three days. yes, in may. so i have been catching up on hulu. glee. house. and to my most delightful of surprises...Friday Night Lights. This phenomenal show has returned to NBC from the depths of Direct TV just in time to entertain my chilled and lonely little body. I am super excited to get back in the swing of things in Telluride and ready for all my friends to return from their respective hajj. but in the mean time i will curl up in my awesome new bedroom with a hot cup of tea and matt saracen. Yeehaw!
Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose.
Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
somewhere in middle america.
nebraska at dusk makes me homesick. long stretch of road between me and colorado. sixteen hours inside my head. i'm lonely. i want a hug. i miss nick. i am pathetic. damn state. you and your stupid corn.
it was this thing that happened today. other things will happen other days. things will happen tomorrow.
So, I got my mom hooked on drugs...technically just a show ABOUT drugs. marijuana, to be precise. Which is funny, if you know my mom. I managed to convince her to try one episode of "Weeds." Four episodes later she was a "junky." i hope she knows that Weeds is the gateway show to a much more serious Showtime addiction. Bring on Californication and The Tudors.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
oh, all that i know, there's nothing here to run from. and there, everybody here's got somebody to lean on.
every evening at eight-thirty, my sister's alarm clock goes off. "good morning hillary. it's time to get up and take your medication," my dad's voice cheers from the four inch plastic cube. the first time i heard it i almost hit the ceiling. cartoon cat style. clinging to the tiles by his bare little claws.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
i heart wawa.
morning walks with the marley dog. a little alone time and a yummy breakfast. wawa coffee (with soy milk) and a muffin from sweet potato cafe.
Monday, April 26, 2010
i wanna talk about it. all the crazy things that we can not tell. i wanna turn back the time. i wanna live in the story i tell.
this is what today sounds like.
sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, sipping malbec, and snacking on ceviche and tortilla chips. chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. music low. lightening bugs flash outside the screen door. the wind blows the curtains back, holds them suspended, momentarily. falling softly back in place. catching up after a long day of arts and crafts and gardening.
this is what i sometimes dream my visits home would be like.
instead i find myself standing in front of the sink, washing the dishes my sister has let pile up, while she sits indian style on the couch across the 300 square foot space, channel surfing with my mom. the television blaring at high volumes to accommodate my mother's hard of hearing and my sister's proclivity to heavy breathing. hillary shouts commands and spills coffee in her lap. caffeinated. she'll be up all night. and she comments on my silhouette. i'm too skinny except for my thighs. and my butt. and my chubby cheeks. but i have good hair. so it's okay.
sometimes it's really hard to come home. i have to mentally prepare. relax. breathe. let things roll. when i get anxious my insecurities fly to the surface. food issues rally and i become self conscious and irritable. and it's hard to ignore my sister's pokes and prods and needling comments. but i do. or i try my best. and i bite my tongue when she taunts my mom with accusations of special treatment. always comparing herself to me. complaining that i am the favorite. that i am loved. more. and i roll my eyes when she isn't looking and choke down that lump. the one that rises when my little voice whispers in the back of my mind. "dad likes you best. so i guess we're even." sometimes i just want to shut her up. tell her to shut the fuck up. but it's no use. we aren't playing with the same rules. we aren't even playing the same game. and i feel ashamed and embarrassed that i would even try to compete.
the weather has finally cleared. and we were able to walk in the state park. five miles through the trees and along the creek. hillary complained the entire way. but i walked ahead. and tried to make light. it must be hard to be her. and be uncomfortable in her body. and be wary of other people. and have such a short attention span. so we retire to her living room. piled onto her futon watching movies that don't suck and snaking on humus and tortilla chips. and watching the sun cast shadows across the carpet. and feeling the breeze blow over our bare feet. planning the dinner we will prepare together. and getting excited about this evening's episode of glee.
well, i am getting excited. hillary and mom are skeptical. how can you question a show about random burst of music and synchronized dance? real life needs a little more music. when i was little hillary and i used to choreograph dances to michael jackson's thriller album and our favorite, madonna's like a prayer. this video brought back so many memories of fifth grade. hillary and my version wasn't quite the production but it one of my fondest memories of our time growing up together. family is good. even when they are hard.
sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, sipping malbec, and snacking on ceviche and tortilla chips. chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. music low. lightening bugs flash outside the screen door. the wind blows the curtains back, holds them suspended, momentarily. falling softly back in place. catching up after a long day of arts and crafts and gardening.
this is what i sometimes dream my visits home would be like.
instead i find myself standing in front of the sink, washing the dishes my sister has let pile up, while she sits indian style on the couch across the 300 square foot space, channel surfing with my mom. the television blaring at high volumes to accommodate my mother's hard of hearing and my sister's proclivity to heavy breathing. hillary shouts commands and spills coffee in her lap. caffeinated. she'll be up all night. and she comments on my silhouette. i'm too skinny except for my thighs. and my butt. and my chubby cheeks. but i have good hair. so it's okay.
sometimes it's really hard to come home. i have to mentally prepare. relax. breathe. let things roll. when i get anxious my insecurities fly to the surface. food issues rally and i become self conscious and irritable. and it's hard to ignore my sister's pokes and prods and needling comments. but i do. or i try my best. and i bite my tongue when she taunts my mom with accusations of special treatment. always comparing herself to me. complaining that i am the favorite. that i am loved. more. and i roll my eyes when she isn't looking and choke down that lump. the one that rises when my little voice whispers in the back of my mind. "dad likes you best. so i guess we're even." sometimes i just want to shut her up. tell her to shut the fuck up. but it's no use. we aren't playing with the same rules. we aren't even playing the same game. and i feel ashamed and embarrassed that i would even try to compete.
the weather has finally cleared. and we were able to walk in the state park. five miles through the trees and along the creek. hillary complained the entire way. but i walked ahead. and tried to make light. it must be hard to be her. and be uncomfortable in her body. and be wary of other people. and have such a short attention span. so we retire to her living room. piled onto her futon watching movies that don't suck and snaking on humus and tortilla chips. and watching the sun cast shadows across the carpet. and feeling the breeze blow over our bare feet. planning the dinner we will prepare together. and getting excited about this evening's episode of glee.
well, i am getting excited. hillary and mom are skeptical. how can you question a show about random burst of music and synchronized dance? real life needs a little more music. when i was little hillary and i used to choreograph dances to michael jackson's thriller album and our favorite, madonna's like a prayer. this video brought back so many memories of fifth grade. hillary and my version wasn't quite the production but it one of my fondest memories of our time growing up together. family is good. even when they are hard.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
headed down south to the land of the pine. thumbin' my way into north caroline...
for the second time, in as many ski seasons, i have had the pleasure of venturing a little further west to soak up some sun and sand in the desert of utah with a few of my favorite telluride folks. this year's adventure found us in moab for one glorious evening by the campfire, and then two fun filled days in goblin valley. climbing mounds of hardened dirt and hiking slot canyons. feasting by the fire and sleeping under the stars. it's a good time to slow down from the slowed-down life. telluride is simple living but things tend to get hectic the last weeks of the season. there are moves to be made (just lugged all my belongings three blocks down the valley to a new awesome home for the summer. wait til you see my view!), jobs and unemployment options to be sorted out. parties to attend and friends to say farewell to. i have gotten quite good at most of the aforementioned. i can pack and move in an afternoon, work keeps slipping into place miraculously, late nights at the bars are a welcome interruption to my previous 4:45am wake-up calls, but the goodbyes still get me. it still hurts to know my favorites will be a little farther away than i would like. and sometimes there's the possibility i may not see them again. but paths tend to twist and turn and i wait and hope for the next time they cross or merge for another adventure.
so i've moved all my things into a new house. piled high in the corner they will wait for my return. i've got a little traveling to do in the mean time. utah was just the start. thrown on the front leg last minute, but much needed and very delightful. watched sunsets with the boys. made some new friends around the campfire. was reminded how small the world really is. as if the arching dome of nightly stars didn't impress that point enough, i come to find my new friend jay is cousin's with my ol' charlotte friend tim. i love random connections. 
after exploring the rocks and sand i headed east with my trusty sidekick marley dog and dave byers, our newest partner in crime. he is headed for the appalachian trailhead in georgia, and i said i would be much obliged to take him, if he would let me document his first steps. so the journey goes. 
now off to charlotte, north carolina to see my "family" and photograph my friend's wedding. looking forward to some southern hospitality and catching up times. bring on the hushpuppies!
so i've moved all my things into a new house. piled high in the corner they will wait for my return. i've got a little traveling to do in the mean time. utah was just the start. thrown on the front leg last minute, but much needed and very delightful. watched sunsets with the boys. made some new friends around the campfire. was reminded how small the world really is. as if the arching dome of nightly stars didn't impress that point enough, i come to find my new friend jay is cousin's with my ol' charlotte friend tim. i love random connections. 
after exploring the rocks and sand i headed east with my trusty sidekick marley dog and dave byers, our newest partner in crime. he is headed for the appalachian trailhead in georgia, and i said i would be much obliged to take him, if he would let me document his first steps. so the journey goes. 
now off to charlotte, north carolina to see my "family" and photograph my friend's wedding. looking forward to some southern hospitality and catching up times. bring on the hushpuppies!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
my ears are always open to your laments. and my will is always weak for your advances. and i'll play the maid and clean up the mess.
eharmony is not for me. i don't know why i thought it was a good idea. i live in a town of two thousand people. so basically i'm paying to be set up with long distance relationships. been there. done that. the long distance part. not the paying...meh.
soon comes rain. dry your eyes. fall asleep. spin the sky. skeleton me. love don’t cry.
This is what today sounds like.
I played beer pong last night for the first time ever. Civil War actually. Which is apparently a much more intense version, with two teams of three players tossing ping-pong balls into the opponents nine cups. When your friends are twenty something frat boys, a game of beer pong is a common occurrence. But until now I have remained oblivious to the rules, only knowing the concept sounded completely unsanitary. Especially when played in the kind of dirty dive bars that host tables.
We played in my friends’ apartment. Using a broken closet door and two chairs as our makeshift table. I was picked last for my team since I was the weak link. The boys thought it was unbelievable that I had never played before and were teasing and taunting me. Steve said he couldn’t believe my sheltered existence. I wonder what he would say if he knew that while other college kids where hosting keggers and playing flip cup, I was helping my mom care for my mentally ill sister and attempting to keep my head above water between work and class. A brief stint with drugs and sex, ended by a friend’s death. An overdose on oxycontin. There are definitely a few normal college kid things I missed out on, but I would never claim to be sheltered.
The evening wound its way to Ob’s, where all good evenings find themselves. And we chatted and played music on the jukebox and reminisced with visiting friends about last season. Somewhere in the drunken haze I found myself in a serious conversation. Standing in front of one of my favorite people, I explained myself the best I could, and he hugged me and held me tight. And told me I was beautiful. Amazing. Talented. And that he couldn’t be in a relationship with me. He pulled his sleeve and whipped my tears. And encouraged confidence. But it's hard to hear these things. They hit my ears and fall silently to the ground. How do I learn to believe these things? How do I learn to own these traits? This is my story. The turn the tale always takes. And it left me frustrated and feeling even more alone.
I have been having trouble sleeping lately. I hate sleeping alone. It's sad and pathetic. But true. And I realized one night, as I crawled into bed, that the limp covers next to me, and the cold pillows, remind me that I am a failure. Every night. Every single night, I am plagued by the idea that I have failed to become the wife and mother that I thought my thirty years would bring me. I imagine the day when I will have warm arms wrapped around me. When someone will stand before me and tell me I am beautiful and amazing AND actually pick me.
I watch as all my friends get married off. And while I would someday like to be married myself, I realize I am enjoying my freedom to travel and try new things. If I was to settle down it would have to be with someone who isn’t interested in in actually settling any time soon. I like this gypsy life, but it would be even more exciting if I had a companion to share my adventures with. I have seen so many amazing things in the last couple years, but when your adventures are alone or armed with your trusty canine sidekick it’s kinda like they never happened. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone you can turn to and say, “Hey, you remember the time when we…”
But for now I am trying to stay focused on what’s in front of me. The things I can actually do something about. I had my first art show in town. My work is currently hanging in the Ah Haa School of Arts. And I had an opening reception that was well attended. Part of the first Thursday gallery crawl. My roommates came to support me. And the fellas. And a lot of people I have never met. They seemed to enjoy my work and the manner in which it was displayed. Gotta love ghetto rigging on a budget. I sold two photographs. Which might not sound like a lot, but it’s always flattering when someone likes my work enough to hang it in their home.
So I’m trying to stay crafty. I decorated my bedroom with branches and birds. Trees and birds seem to be ever present in my life. They make me happy. So I’ll keep them around. I am learning to knit. I have been cooking up a storm and am getting ready for spring time activities like running, hiking ,and bouldering. I’m setting goals. Imogen Pass run and summiting some fourteeners. Selling yummy vegan goodies at the farmers market. Like I said, you’ve gotta make your own adventures. And the opportunities abound out here in Colorado. I’m hoping to wrangle some friends into camping trips and fly fishing tours. And I still want to learn to shoot bow and arrow. I hope to occupy myself with so many wonderful experiences I don’t have time to concern my self with the ticking biological clock. And I hope to be so worn out from my exhilarating adventures that the empty side of the bed goes unnoticed as I drift into dreams of bluegrass and sunbathing on the front lawn. And maybe heading down under for the next winter season.
I played beer pong last night for the first time ever. Civil War actually. Which is apparently a much more intense version, with two teams of three players tossing ping-pong balls into the opponents nine cups. When your friends are twenty something frat boys, a game of beer pong is a common occurrence. But until now I have remained oblivious to the rules, only knowing the concept sounded completely unsanitary. Especially when played in the kind of dirty dive bars that host tables.
We played in my friends’ apartment. Using a broken closet door and two chairs as our makeshift table. I was picked last for my team since I was the weak link. The boys thought it was unbelievable that I had never played before and were teasing and taunting me. Steve said he couldn’t believe my sheltered existence. I wonder what he would say if he knew that while other college kids where hosting keggers and playing flip cup, I was helping my mom care for my mentally ill sister and attempting to keep my head above water between work and class. A brief stint with drugs and sex, ended by a friend’s death. An overdose on oxycontin. There are definitely a few normal college kid things I missed out on, but I would never claim to be sheltered.
The evening wound its way to Ob’s, where all good evenings find themselves. And we chatted and played music on the jukebox and reminisced with visiting friends about last season. Somewhere in the drunken haze I found myself in a serious conversation. Standing in front of one of my favorite people, I explained myself the best I could, and he hugged me and held me tight. And told me I was beautiful. Amazing. Talented. And that he couldn’t be in a relationship with me. He pulled his sleeve and whipped my tears. And encouraged confidence. But it's hard to hear these things. They hit my ears and fall silently to the ground. How do I learn to believe these things? How do I learn to own these traits? This is my story. The turn the tale always takes. And it left me frustrated and feeling even more alone.
I have been having trouble sleeping lately. I hate sleeping alone. It's sad and pathetic. But true. And I realized one night, as I crawled into bed, that the limp covers next to me, and the cold pillows, remind me that I am a failure. Every night. Every single night, I am plagued by the idea that I have failed to become the wife and mother that I thought my thirty years would bring me. I imagine the day when I will have warm arms wrapped around me. When someone will stand before me and tell me I am beautiful and amazing AND actually pick me.
I watch as all my friends get married off. And while I would someday like to be married myself, I realize I am enjoying my freedom to travel and try new things. If I was to settle down it would have to be with someone who isn’t interested in in actually settling any time soon. I like this gypsy life, but it would be even more exciting if I had a companion to share my adventures with. I have seen so many amazing things in the last couple years, but when your adventures are alone or armed with your trusty canine sidekick it’s kinda like they never happened. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone you can turn to and say, “Hey, you remember the time when we…”
But for now I am trying to stay focused on what’s in front of me. The things I can actually do something about. I had my first art show in town. My work is currently hanging in the Ah Haa School of Arts. And I had an opening reception that was well attended. Part of the first Thursday gallery crawl. My roommates came to support me. And the fellas. And a lot of people I have never met. They seemed to enjoy my work and the manner in which it was displayed. Gotta love ghetto rigging on a budget. I sold two photographs. Which might not sound like a lot, but it’s always flattering when someone likes my work enough to hang it in their home.
So I’m trying to stay crafty. I decorated my bedroom with branches and birds. Trees and birds seem to be ever present in my life. They make me happy. So I’ll keep them around. I am learning to knit. I have been cooking up a storm and am getting ready for spring time activities like running, hiking ,and bouldering. I’m setting goals. Imogen Pass run and summiting some fourteeners. Selling yummy vegan goodies at the farmers market. Like I said, you’ve gotta make your own adventures. And the opportunities abound out here in Colorado. I’m hoping to wrangle some friends into camping trips and fly fishing tours. And I still want to learn to shoot bow and arrow. I hope to occupy myself with so many wonderful experiences I don’t have time to concern my self with the ticking biological clock. And I hope to be so worn out from my exhilarating adventures that the empty side of the bed goes unnoticed as I drift into dreams of bluegrass and sunbathing on the front lawn. And maybe heading down under for the next winter season.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
somedays i feel affected and then it all disappears. rain and clouds above my head, and then it all disappears.
dakota skye.
i recently stumbled across this film while searching through netfix, trying to figure out when the next episodes of weeds were going to be mailed out. i got sucked in. and i have watched it twice. i'm a sucker for cute, nerdy boys. especially ones that like bowling and hiking mountains.
i realized i've never had a man tell me they were "in love" with me. mikal told me he loved me. and when he performed with his band he would hold his closed hand in the air in front of his chest. he heard once that the human heart was the size of your fist, and as cheesy as it sounds now, this was his way of telling me he loved me with all his heart. our little secret, laid before the crowded rooms.
but then he would cheat on me, and his actions never matched his words. so i love you became a string of painful syllables. too easily tossed around.
i read this passage in jon krakauer's book "into thin air. it made me really happy. and really sad, too.
"i was forty-one now, well past my climbing prime, with a graying beard, bad gums, and fifteen extra pounds around my midriff. i was married to a woman i loved fiercely-and who loved me back. having stumbled upon a tolerable career, for the first time in my life i was actually living above the poverty line. my hunger to climb had been blunted, in short, by a bunch of small satisfactions that added up to something like happiness. "
someday.
i recently stumbled across this film while searching through netfix, trying to figure out when the next episodes of weeds were going to be mailed out. i got sucked in. and i have watched it twice. i'm a sucker for cute, nerdy boys. especially ones that like bowling and hiking mountains.
i realized i've never had a man tell me they were "in love" with me. mikal told me he loved me. and when he performed with his band he would hold his closed hand in the air in front of his chest. he heard once that the human heart was the size of your fist, and as cheesy as it sounds now, this was his way of telling me he loved me with all his heart. our little secret, laid before the crowded rooms.
but then he would cheat on me, and his actions never matched his words. so i love you became a string of painful syllables. too easily tossed around.
i read this passage in jon krakauer's book "into thin air. it made me really happy. and really sad, too.
"i was forty-one now, well past my climbing prime, with a graying beard, bad gums, and fifteen extra pounds around my midriff. i was married to a woman i loved fiercely-and who loved me back. having stumbled upon a tolerable career, for the first time in my life i was actually living above the poverty line. my hunger to climb had been blunted, in short, by a bunch of small satisfactions that added up to something like happiness. "
someday.
Monday, March 1, 2010
but you've run away from me, and you've left me shimmering like diamond wedding rings, spinning dizzily down on the ground.
this is what today sounds like [moth's wings - passion pit]
two of my friends stopped by the other night to pick up my new roommate. (who is adorable and sweet and so incredibly interesting. AND she makes the most amazing bread i have ever tasted). i was attempting to take a nap but it's difficult to sleep in a house with the comings and goings of four other people and marley dog barking when guests come to the door. so i came down to make tea and found the crew standing in my kitchen. two of my favorite people in town. and we chatted briefly and then they left. and it occurred to me through the conversation i had with sophia, that they were going to my other friend's house for the evening.
and i wasn't invited.
i smiled and waved as they walked out the door. but when the handle latched closed, my heart sank. i have never felt so left out. and i have no idea why. i consider these fellas to be some of my best friends in town and it kills me to know that they didn't even think to invite me along. meh.
so i spent the weekend hanging out with my roommates and a new friend and his sister. and i saw concerts and skied and ate yummy food. and it was fun. and i realized i can't rely on other people. i have to entertain myself even though i would rather spend my time in the company of others. sometimes it just doesn't work out the way you would like.
so i am enjoying some simple things.
-bouldering at the rock gym on tuesdays and thursdays
-netfix (i am addicted to the showtime series "weeds"
-dakota skye
-homemade hummus and target brand tortilla chips (blue corn with flaxseed. yummy)
-living in the purple scarf sarah gave me.
-new music (check out Prepschool) i love techno/disco dance music
-free yoga on mondays
-cranial sacral massage
-hot tea and warm socks
i have to learn to be less sensitive. just go about my business, enjoying the little things in life and when someone actually "shows up" be pleasantly surprised and enjoy the moment. more smiles. less tears.
two of my friends stopped by the other night to pick up my new roommate. (who is adorable and sweet and so incredibly interesting. AND she makes the most amazing bread i have ever tasted). i was attempting to take a nap but it's difficult to sleep in a house with the comings and goings of four other people and marley dog barking when guests come to the door. so i came down to make tea and found the crew standing in my kitchen. two of my favorite people in town. and we chatted briefly and then they left. and it occurred to me through the conversation i had with sophia, that they were going to my other friend's house for the evening.
and i wasn't invited.
i smiled and waved as they walked out the door. but when the handle latched closed, my heart sank. i have never felt so left out. and i have no idea why. i consider these fellas to be some of my best friends in town and it kills me to know that they didn't even think to invite me along. meh.
so i spent the weekend hanging out with my roommates and a new friend and his sister. and i saw concerts and skied and ate yummy food. and it was fun. and i realized i can't rely on other people. i have to entertain myself even though i would rather spend my time in the company of others. sometimes it just doesn't work out the way you would like.
so i am enjoying some simple things.
-bouldering at the rock gym on tuesdays and thursdays
-netfix (i am addicted to the showtime series "weeds"
-dakota skye
-homemade hummus and target brand tortilla chips (blue corn with flaxseed. yummy)
-living in the purple scarf sarah gave me.
-new music (check out Prepschool) i love techno/disco dance music
-free yoga on mondays
-cranial sacral massage
-hot tea and warm socks
i have to learn to be less sensitive. just go about my business, enjoying the little things in life and when someone actually "shows up" be pleasantly surprised and enjoy the moment. more smiles. less tears.
always, always she waits for you.
i think one of my biggest fears in life is that my mom will somehow find this blog and read about all the horrible and awful things i have done. that she will finally realize that i am not as special as she once thought and that i am so terribly flawed and fucked in the head that she will cry herself to sleep and ask her god for a daughter that doesn't break her heart.
luckily she seems to be some decades behind the times when it comes to electronics and the workings of the internet. but there is always the chance my aunt could participate in the foiling of my carefully crafted existence. all she would have to do is google me. that is some scary shit. but i knew my words were out there for the world to read. i just haven't given much thought to how they may affect those that i write about. or those that are not privy to my deepest darkest secrets on the regular.
my mom came to visit me in telluride over valentine's weekend. i was sick the whole time but she cooked me yummy foods and we got to spend an evening at the hotel before she left. her idea of a hotel is the super 8 so lumiere was quite the treat. and it was such a pleasure to be able to give that to her. she means the world to me. and it breaks my heart to think that if she really knew me in all my messiness, she might be disappointed.
luckily she seems to be some decades behind the times when it comes to electronics and the workings of the internet. but there is always the chance my aunt could participate in the foiling of my carefully crafted existence. all she would have to do is google me. that is some scary shit. but i knew my words were out there for the world to read. i just haven't given much thought to how they may affect those that i write about. or those that are not privy to my deepest darkest secrets on the regular.
my mom came to visit me in telluride over valentine's weekend. i was sick the whole time but she cooked me yummy foods and we got to spend an evening at the hotel before she left. her idea of a hotel is the super 8 so lumiere was quite the treat. and it was such a pleasure to be able to give that to her. she means the world to me. and it breaks my heart to think that if she really knew me in all my messiness, she might be disappointed.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
i will follow a set of deep tracks. other people stay hidden as the cars rest under snow drifts.
i love snow. it's magical. and it has been coming down for the past two days. we must have gotten at least a foot just this afternoon. and the best part is today was my day off. i spent yesterday frustrated that i have no social life because of my early hours at work, but today i spent the afternoon on the mountain with good friends and new friends. and i get to do it all again tomorrow.
Friday, February 19, 2010
i wish my smile was your favourite kind of smile.
"i wish the way i dressed was your favorite kind of style. i wish you couldn't figure me out, but you always wanna know what i was about." -kate nash nicest thing
i think i am really good at having really intense, really brief encounters. good in the sense that i seem to find myself in these situations of getting to know someone quite often. but just as quickly as they utter the phrase "you blow my mind," they are gone. and i am bad at this type of encounter in the fact that i am invested and it hurts. i wish i could just cut people out. sometimes i wish that i didn't feel so much. getting left behind burns. and i am afraid i will be alone forever. meh.
i think i am really good at having really intense, really brief encounters. good in the sense that i seem to find myself in these situations of getting to know someone quite often. but just as quickly as they utter the phrase "you blow my mind," they are gone. and i am bad at this type of encounter in the fact that i am invested and it hurts. i wish i could just cut people out. sometimes i wish that i didn't feel so much. getting left behind burns. and i am afraid i will be alone forever. meh.
Friday, January 29, 2010
heartbreak & head injuries.
if..ehem..i mean when. when i get married (gotta stay optimistic about these things) i would like to register for two items. they are expensive so feel free to all pull your money together and chip in as group gift. i think it could be a reasonable $20 a head if split up properly. firstly, i would like to be the proud owner of a dyson vacuum cleaner. the pet hair model. cause let's face it people, the marley dog is cute, but he leaves a mark. fur everywhere. and also, this is me we are talking about. i will clean all day long with that magic machine. no other household will put it to quite such good use. the second item i will shoot my little gun at, will be a kitchenaid electric mixer. this is my most coveted appliance. my most coveted anything, really. i have thought long and hard about breaking down and buying one for myself, but i have a little superstition wrapped up in this situation. for me this perd'y number would be the absolute perfect wedding present. the artisan model. in tangerine. and although i could probably rustle up the $263.99 that it would cost to purchase this modern marvel, i feel i would be dooming myself to a life a singleness. by purchasing this mixer for myself i feel i am basically giving in. giving up. admitting that i will never get married. that i will never find my teammate. that i will always have a cold and empty side of the bed. and i am just not ready to do that. not just yet.
i broke up with my boyfriend recently. or he broke up with me. i'm not really sure exactly how to describe this one. all i know is i went to bed wednesday night, exhausted after a long day of work and was woken up four hours later by his drunken and belligerent shouting and he continued to me out of character and distant. so i asked him to leave. and two days later he went back to new york. he came by my house before his departure with a weak apology for his behavior. self sabotage. acting out at my expense. he was sorry. but that's where the line was drawn. no efforts of reparation. i sat there holding the telluride truffle treaty offering he placed in my hesitant hands. for once chocolate was unappealing. he sat near me on the couch avoiding my teary eye contact. and then he left. and i may never see him again. he didn't fight to get me back. he didn't do everything in his power to heal the hurt. he silently slipped away. and i find myself alone again. and farther than ever from the wedding isle.
so it seems almost comical that the following day i should be the victim of a most unfortunate accident. i dragged myself to work. eyes slightly puffy from crying myself to sleep the night before. that burning in my chest. each breath fighting back more tears. i went to work and threw myself into the service. helping the sushi chef grate daikon, i pulled down the food processor from the overhead shelf. in one quick movement i managed to snag the plug part of the cord under the kitchenaid electric mixer that makes it's home directly to it's left. and moments later the crashing noise brought both my bosses rushing through the swinging doors. "Are you okay?" he asked first. I stood laughing. Stunned. Frightened. I felt for my skull. A delicate touch sent pain shooting through my head. I winced and the facts of the story came to light. I had somehow managed to conk myself on the head with the entirety of my beloved appliance, and yet still remain standing. my boss reached for a cloth napkin and filled it with ice. he led me towards the dinning room to sit down but my legs felt weak and uneasy beneath me. i sunk slowly to the ground and leaned against the island. was this a sign? what was the universe trying to tell me? the doctors in the emergency room seemed amused. and also relieved that i didn't seem to be suffering from any severe malady or trauma. lots of rest and ibuprophen. see me back in the office in four days. seems i am lucky i have such a hard head. maybe i shouldn't be so stubborn about the kitchenaid afterall? if i owned my own, maybe the vendetta wielding one at work wouldn't be out to get me. it's the exact one i would have purchased. even it's orange gloss mocks me. i am glad i didn't die, but it would have been an interesting story.
i broke up with my boyfriend recently. or he broke up with me. i'm not really sure exactly how to describe this one. all i know is i went to bed wednesday night, exhausted after a long day of work and was woken up four hours later by his drunken and belligerent shouting and he continued to me out of character and distant. so i asked him to leave. and two days later he went back to new york. he came by my house before his departure with a weak apology for his behavior. self sabotage. acting out at my expense. he was sorry. but that's where the line was drawn. no efforts of reparation. i sat there holding the telluride truffle treaty offering he placed in my hesitant hands. for once chocolate was unappealing. he sat near me on the couch avoiding my teary eye contact. and then he left. and i may never see him again. he didn't fight to get me back. he didn't do everything in his power to heal the hurt. he silently slipped away. and i find myself alone again. and farther than ever from the wedding isle.
so it seems almost comical that the following day i should be the victim of a most unfortunate accident. i dragged myself to work. eyes slightly puffy from crying myself to sleep the night before. that burning in my chest. each breath fighting back more tears. i went to work and threw myself into the service. helping the sushi chef grate daikon, i pulled down the food processor from the overhead shelf. in one quick movement i managed to snag the plug part of the cord under the kitchenaid electric mixer that makes it's home directly to it's left. and moments later the crashing noise brought both my bosses rushing through the swinging doors. "Are you okay?" he asked first. I stood laughing. Stunned. Frightened. I felt for my skull. A delicate touch sent pain shooting through my head. I winced and the facts of the story came to light. I had somehow managed to conk myself on the head with the entirety of my beloved appliance, and yet still remain standing. my boss reached for a cloth napkin and filled it with ice. he led me towards the dinning room to sit down but my legs felt weak and uneasy beneath me. i sunk slowly to the ground and leaned against the island. was this a sign? what was the universe trying to tell me? the doctors in the emergency room seemed amused. and also relieved that i didn't seem to be suffering from any severe malady or trauma. lots of rest and ibuprophen. see me back in the office in four days. seems i am lucky i have such a hard head. maybe i shouldn't be so stubborn about the kitchenaid afterall? if i owned my own, maybe the vendetta wielding one at work wouldn't be out to get me. it's the exact one i would have purchased. even it's orange gloss mocks me. i am glad i didn't die, but it would have been an interesting story.
you were restless. i was somewhere less secure.
it's been a while since i have written. months actually. and like the good and loving friends you are, you have gotten on my case about it. sort of all at once and out of the blue. in a week's time you have all politely pleaded for a much over due update. which makes me happy to know that anyone cares about the contrived little thoughts that make their way from my head to the page. and it makes me sad to know that i haven't made the time to organize the mess that becomes these writings. a lot has happened in the past few months. i embraced a relationship. and subsequently ended said relationship. i started a new job. found my way to the emergency room. again. and have cooked and baked so many delicious and nutritious food items. it's been a good time. and a hard time. but when is it every really anything else?
i would love to catch you all up on the comings and goings of my mountain town living. but first, a little story...
i would love to catch you all up on the comings and goings of my mountain town living. but first, a little story...
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
the odds are good. but the goods are odd.
in a town that fosters such delightful phrases for male/female relationships as "you don't lose your chance, just your turn in line," a girl can be forced to take some pretty drastic measures to find a mate. especially when, left to her own devices, she repeatedly choses different versions of the same man: the alcoholic, abusive, selfish prick. think musician or politician. what is it about me and men who schmooze and entertain for a living?!
i've recently ended a relationship. one that i mistakenly saw great potential in. and although part of me feels that it is very fresh and i should give it time to settle in and mourn the loss, another part of me insists that i trudge forward. i am at such a jaded juncture, i feel that if i don't press on, i may never put myself out there again.
so, i did it folks. i joined the dark side. even though the old saying goes "can't buy me love," my credit card deposit has my fingers crossed that e-Harmony will match me with mr. wonderful. i am officially one of those people. meh.
[pricks need not apply.]
i've recently ended a relationship. one that i mistakenly saw great potential in. and although part of me feels that it is very fresh and i should give it time to settle in and mourn the loss, another part of me insists that i trudge forward. i am at such a jaded juncture, i feel that if i don't press on, i may never put myself out there again.
so, i did it folks. i joined the dark side. even though the old saying goes "can't buy me love," my credit card deposit has my fingers crossed that e-Harmony will match me with mr. wonderful. i am officially one of those people. meh.
[pricks need not apply.]
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