1. caterpillars on Josh's front porch
2. playing fetch with Neko over and over and over
3. caterpillars crawling on my legs
4. The bump with Hayley and good conversation
5. discussing homeless people stories with Josh and Maddie
6. thinking of Chicago
7. text message from Jordon about how great next school year will be
8. Mr. Caldwell wasn't there!
9. I thought there were no cookies left in the cafeteria, and there were
10. My FAFSA finally fucking went through!!!!!
11. windows down all afternoon
12. Steaz diet black cherry green tea soda
13. talking mannerisms, and finding out that I say, "inneresting," and everyone else says, "intresting."
14. making a list
15. my dad
16. the sun
17. not caring enough about AP exams to know when they are
18. doing laundry so that I will have clean clothes
19. wearing shorts
20. feeling pretty
21. feeling better
22. Multiple Choice AP Lit practice tests
23. "Ethnic Poetry" by Julio Marzan
Monday, April 27, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
non-iversary
I don't know how to say what it is. It's 365 days. Actually, it's 366. Leap year. Who knew.
A year ago this morning, I woke up and got SCREWED.
And now, today, everything is alright. It's better than that, though. It's great. I'm happy. I'm thrilled. I'm ecstatic. I'm in love. It's cool.
A year ago today, numbers impacted my life more than I was ever going to let them.
A year ago today, I was throwing up and crying and couldn't eat.
A year ago today, I'd never been to Chicago, and thought maybe I'd never go.
A year ago today, it was impossible to explain myself.
And now here I am. I'm 18, in discrete mathematics, ready for lunch already, love Chicago and will be living there, and if you ask me to explain myself, I am fully prepared to admit everything. Because it got me here, and I love it here.
A year ago this morning, I woke up and got SCREWED.
And now, today, everything is alright. It's better than that, though. It's great. I'm happy. I'm thrilled. I'm ecstatic. I'm in love. It's cool.
A year ago today, numbers impacted my life more than I was ever going to let them.
A year ago today, I was throwing up and crying and couldn't eat.
A year ago today, I'd never been to Chicago, and thought maybe I'd never go.
A year ago today, it was impossible to explain myself.
And now here I am. I'm 18, in discrete mathematics, ready for lunch already, love Chicago and will be living there, and if you ask me to explain myself, I am fully prepared to admit everything. Because it got me here, and I love it here.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
Nine
A woman on the tv in gloves and fleece and a boa has the same color hair as she does. A too-fake blonde with too-real black and white mixed in.
My boyfriend calls and tells me he loves me and I wish that's all she wanted.
The lobby played 92.9 and I stopped for long enough to hear a listener call in and say, "she's been through so much for me. I wouldn't blame her if she gave up all hope, but she lives life to the fullest, and I love her for it."
A little girl from my church texts me and I can't bare to respond, but cringe more knowing she will ask her on Sunday where I am. What could she possibly say?
I start to cry seeing that she is number 11 on my recent recipients list for text messages. 11 out of 20. My life has never, ever, ever, been that way.
I miss something and I don't know what it is. Maybe it's checking the mail, or the smell of the house, or how she would buy junk food when I had been gone for long periods of time, and it'd be sitting out for me. The way I knew that was her way of saying she'd missed me. Maybe it is just thinking of her alone, when all her defenses are dropped, and she is as vulnerable as I am in this moment. Maybe she's, though. There's no way for me to know.
My boyfriend calls and tells me he loves me and I wish that's all she wanted.
The lobby played 92.9 and I stopped for long enough to hear a listener call in and say, "she's been through so much for me. I wouldn't blame her if she gave up all hope, but she lives life to the fullest, and I love her for it."
A little girl from my church texts me and I can't bare to respond, but cringe more knowing she will ask her on Sunday where I am. What could she possibly say?
I start to cry seeing that she is number 11 on my recent recipients list for text messages. 11 out of 20. My life has never, ever, ever, been that way.
I miss something and I don't know what it is. Maybe it's checking the mail, or the smell of the house, or how she would buy junk food when I had been gone for long periods of time, and it'd be sitting out for me. The way I knew that was her way of saying she'd missed me. Maybe it is just thinking of her alone, when all her defenses are dropped, and she is as vulnerable as I am in this moment. Maybe she's, though. There's no way for me to know.
Friday, October 3, 2008
33
What the water wants is hurricanes,
and sailboats to ride on its back.
What the water wants is sun kiss,
and land to run into and back.
I have a fish stone burning my elbow,
reminding me to know that I'm glad
that I have a bottle filled with my old teeth.
They fell out like a tear in the bag.
Move.
Quickly.
and sailboats to ride on its back.
What the water wants is sun kiss,
and land to run into and back.
I have a fish stone burning my elbow,
reminding me to know that I'm glad
that I have a bottle filled with my old teeth.
They fell out like a tear in the bag.
Move.
Quickly.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Banana Peel
For some reason my ears are extremely sensitive in this moment, and I'm hearing instruments previously ignored as my computer shuffles it's way through my itunes library. Stange, stange, strange.
Two days of school have passed, with both encouraging and discouraging news, classes, teachers, all of that fun stuff. Every one is telling me to just have a good attitude, buckle down and steer straight through the last year, with my studies on my mind, and every now and then I wonder how I became so negative in regards to high school. It's a small deal, but some where along the way I stopped joking about the silliness of it all, and started believing myself.
I even find it obnoxious, so I know those around me do too. I can groan and moan and raise my eye brows and blow the whole thing off if I want to, but it just causes more and more chaos, so all I really want to do is coast. Lay on my back for a little while. Float. The sun. Chicago. Stuff like that. Good things. Things that I like.
It's not going to be the case, though. There are other things that must happen. For example, lots of reading. It's not that I mind it, because I don't, it's just that it takes up so much time that I would rather be spending floating, and being in love, and doing the kinds of things that make me feel so happy that I just might explode.
Countdown to 18: 85 days.
Two days of school have passed, with both encouraging and discouraging news, classes, teachers, all of that fun stuff. Every one is telling me to just have a good attitude, buckle down and steer straight through the last year, with my studies on my mind, and every now and then I wonder how I became so negative in regards to high school. It's a small deal, but some where along the way I stopped joking about the silliness of it all, and started believing myself.
I even find it obnoxious, so I know those around me do too. I can groan and moan and raise my eye brows and blow the whole thing off if I want to, but it just causes more and more chaos, so all I really want to do is coast. Lay on my back for a little while. Float. The sun. Chicago. Stuff like that. Good things. Things that I like.
It's not going to be the case, though. There are other things that must happen. For example, lots of reading. It's not that I mind it, because I don't, it's just that it takes up so much time that I would rather be spending floating, and being in love, and doing the kinds of things that make me feel so happy that I just might explode.
Countdown to 18: 85 days.
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