Wednesday, January 25, 2012


because it's wednesday
 because i want to
  because there is no one to tell me i can't
   because i love him 
    because i don't
     because there isn't anything past "the end"
      because i wish i could rewind
       because it's hard to write about your life
        because i always see things to the end
          because to write is to see
           because it's either yes or no
            because my friends are there
             because sometimes they aren't 
              because getting angry is easier than being sad
               because smiling in a rainstorm is the only thing you can do
                because i'm unapologetic about who i am
                 because i'm flawed
                  because i realize it
                   because i can

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Free Fallin'

today i purchased tickets to see the one and only Tom Petty. Tom Petty people! 

okay perhaps i'm a little more excited than i should be, but i feel i need to stress the obsession i have with live music. i don't just like seeing musicians i love it. there is something beautiful and lovely from the beginning of that day to the end. 

the day of the show has a certain buzz to it. whether i'm driving to another city or seeing someone local, there is a moment where the momentum of the buzz grows, a halo of electric excitement encompasses me and grows as the clock ticks closer to the time i step into the venue. even when i know that traffic and parking will inevitably be difficult, this is the only time i revel in the complications of a plethora of individuals all heading in the same direction. the pied piper is calling and we all heard the tune. 

i want to stand in a crowd of people and sing and move until there is slick moisture covering my body. i want to sing out and join the choir of people as they all sing as off tune as i am, but we still sound wonderful when the singer holds the mic out toward the masses. i want to turn and smile at strangers as they turn and smile at me when the song that we love comes on and we sing even louder and more off tune than we were before. and, at the end, the end when my screams have become hoarse and i feel the euphoria of a magical moment the last song will come on as they come back out on stage after our pleads of " JUST ONE MORE". and they'll play. they'll play even when they feel exhausted because we've taken everything they have for night. 

as i walk out with my friends, the people that shared that musically induced high, we'll be slightly deaf as if under water, but we'll smile because no other words need to be spoken.

Monday, January 16, 2012

The Pretzel

This weekend someone said to me, "Don't turn yourself into a pretzel for someone." When I stared back confused they elaborated, "Sometimes when we meet people, we turn ourselves into what they want us to be, usually unintentionally, but we do, and by the time we realize it, it's too late. So, remember don't turn yourself into a pretzel for someone, anyone."

This is an interesting idea for me because, how does one keep from losing themselves in anyone? The best example is a relationship, of course, but sometimes we lose ourselves in friendships, in workships, in any ships especially when they first set sail.

Where do commonalities begin, and where do they morph into what we believe that individual wants/needs?
How many times have we all feigned interest in what someone else is saying, when in all actuality we are simply waiting for our turn to speak?

The worst I suppose is when you're in too deep and you realize you're already that pretzel. When further elaborated on, a moment flashed in my mind of a time in the past year where I had been indeed pretzel-fied. How do you go back, unbend yourself slowly,trying not to break anything, trying to find the road back to where you were yourself and not a version of yourself. A version which in most instances, you don't really like.

I suppose there is a fine line between, balance, meeting people half way, and oneself. The portion of ourselves that we often kick to the curb, is the voice in our heads, that sets off alarms and ties our stomachs into knots in an attempt to tell us that something is, in fact, not right. But do we listen? No, we don't, I don't. I get caught up in the ship and forget to abandon long after I should have.

It's important to be reminded of the basics, before we've bent ourselves so far that even when what once felt fabulous now brings more trouble than it's worth.

The ship has sailed.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

The Inevitability of the Inevitable

Outside it was still. The air quiet except for the held breath being exhaled slowly from my lungs, to my mouth, and out of the lips I liked nervously. I stood at the bottom of the short cement staircase and moved my feet, first right, then left, with precision, determination. The two large wooden doors opened and the first sight that filled my line of vision made my body clench into it self, my stomach filled with only coffee, grew tight, solid. The long silver rectangle in front of me was surrounded by strangers, and yet the gaze I held with them for the instant I awkwardly shuffled in, made them intimately familiar. I quickly walked to a space in the back and sat, supported by the hard wooden pew. 

As the mass began I searched the people in the small church. Sunlight streamed in through tall windows illuminating the dust motes that swam around the coffin, the people, me. The priest began the sermon his words short and clipped with their Spanish accent. The rhythm off, from the mass now playing in my mind, in another church, another pew, a different person sitting beside me. 

"Escuchanos Senor," the congregation said in unison. 

I turned, warm hand on my knee, handkerchief clenched with index finger against her palm as she looked at the priest with such reverence. 

"Hace caso Prieta." 

I looked back at the priest, the one giving the sermon in English, my knee cold. I swallowed the lump in my throat, a mixture of sympathy, scented candles, and incense. I looked forward to the corner of the church, the figure I searched for blocked by the other parishioners, worried, knowing this day was not easy. The inevitable loss never easy.