litter

living with someone you love is hard. living with someone you absolutely adore might be especially hard. in a bad relationship, you know what to expect. you can numb yourself, turn to apathy like liquor to drown the things that hurt. in a good relationship, you are forced, unexpected, to see the little bits of your love-and they're there in all of us, turn off your romantic eyes and you'll see it-that make him human.

human-ness in someone you love can be hard to take sometimes.

there is this person out there, in here, wrapped in your blankets, cold feet pressed against your own, miles away sending digital hearts to a little glass screen, using your soap and your toothpaste and dirtying up your dishes and stopping for milk on the way home, and something about him is simply right.

things are very rarely always right, all the time.

accepting that tastes like aspartame.

it's when you can take a breath after screaming rage, silent in your head, angry, furious that this perfect creature isn't, and in that breath is the knowledge that yes-
this is perfect-that you know.

and fuck, i am not stuck here. i am not bound by faith or circumstance or some archaic rule book to settle into the space between your arms at night. necessity is not the driving factor here, but choice. and in that first quivering breath after fear creeps in and tells you to run is the absolute truth: the worst of this is better than the best of anything else.

we are stitched together, patchwork hearts, magnets, telepathic, take your pick.

i could take your pieces
toss them blindly from the windows
driving
mad and happy
restless
littering the road
with
things i
shouldn't really need

i lost my words.

together they are something
i'd call magic
if i wasn't such a
cynical old fuck

together they are bound into this thing that i can
not define cannot
explain cannot
begin
for a fraction of a second
to imagine life
without.

on gratitude

i don't believe in a sentient universe or an omniscient god; i'm not smug enough to say i know what's out there, if anything, but i can say with some certainty that it's not lining our lives up like bowling pins and changing the course thereof with a well-aimed flick of the wrist.

i do, however, believe that life offers gifts and opportunities. it offers these things blindly, with no thought or concern toward who might pick them up or what might be done with them, or even the knowledge that they have been placed. they are simply there. they are gravel that we walk on, and we can choose to see the patterns in the rocks or we can walk on, complaining that our feet are sore without realizing it might have been an easier path had we bothered to put on shoes.

(i'm full of biscuits and gravy, omelets, hot cocoa and metaphor this morning. forgive the sappiness here, please.)

a friend implied this morning that it was dumb to express gratitude today because today has been designated to do so. he and i are generally on the same page in regard to society; we've have many all-night conversations, railing in our post-punk apocalyptic manner against Them and They and the fuck-all that society stands for and expects and destroys. i disagree with him here, though. i think to deny your gratitude today is to play into what They want-a nation of automatons, lemmings falling into the sea of apathy, led by the holy leader television. today should be an And, not an Only. if we remember today how thankful we are, we might still recall tomorrow, and the next day, and then maybe one day we'll forget to be disconnected and disenchanted and gratitude will be second nature.

another friend has "gratitude" taped to various surfaces all over his house.

i can't tell you who is happier, but i can tell you which of my friends seems more content in life-and it's not that blind, dumb, apathetic contentment. it's joyful contentment, true gratitude for where he is.

i love both of these guys, but if i have to choose a side, i'll err on the side of extraneous gratitude.

my life has not always been easy, but whose has? right now, some things are harder than they have been in a long time, but other things are going better than i ever could have imagined-and you all know my imagination. had i not taken and accepted and appreciated the gifts i've been given, what i'm struggling with now might have been impossible. i might be going through hard times alone, rather than surrounded by this incredible network of family and friends that i've built over the years.

i am grateful, most of all, for the gift of love, and that i was able, finally, to accept it. from my children, my family, and my partner in crime... there is nothing better in the world.

i will always be cynical, and probably more jaded than i have a right to be. i may never achieve my sweetheart's level of optimism, opting instead for cautious realism with a side of something that's almost-but not quite-hope. but i will always be grateful for who i am, and where i am, and most of all, who i have beside me.

jesus, dean and gene ween

Read it here.

metaphorical jeans.

you know that one perfect pair of jeans you had?


when you bought them, they looked amazing on you, made your butt look awesome, made you feel like you actually looked good for once? and so you only wore them when you had someplace to go, somewhere you knew you were really going to be seen?


and after you washed them a few times, you realized that they didn't just look good, they were the most comfortable thing you'd ever worn? and they went with absolutely everything-you could dress them up or down, lie around in them all day with a grungy old t-shirt on top, or put on a kickass jacket and boots and go out and make everyone else around look like aesthetic garbage?


and then you realized they were starting to get holes in the knees, and the hems were getting frayed, but you didn't care... that only made them better, made you want to wear them every day, and you knew that you'd never find another pair just like them, so you started wearing skirts and cords instead?


you know where i'm going with this.


i love my broken-in, comfy, perfect-fit metaphorical jeans.

the universal dilemma

pretty sure every girl has been here. (and every poor, put-upon guy, too.)

me: i hate what i'm wearing. i'm having a bad self-esteem day.

beau: i'm sorry sweetie. you look fine.

me: AAAARGH i don't want to look fine, we're going out. i'm not supposed to just look fine.

beau: i think you look beautiful.

me: that's the good boyfriend answer for 'you don't look that great but i always think you're lovely.'

beau: [rolls eyes]

me: i don't like this shirt. should i wear the purple one?

beau: which purple one?

me: the one i was wearing all day today.

beau: yes.

me: does it look better than this one?

beau: i don't know.

me: do you hate when i'm a girl?

beau: yes.

girl brains

what we say when we get his voicemail:

hey sweetie, it's me, just thought i'd call and say hey cause things were a little funky when you left, so yeah, i'll be up for a while if you want to call me back, but no biggie... i love you very much and i'll see you soon. hope you're having fun. k bye, love you.

what we're thinking:

dude, really? we were griping at each other all weekend and now you're working late and you're too busy playing with your dumb friends and your dumb instruments to answer the phone. i was GONNA go to bed but now i'm cranky and don't feel like sleeping so i'ma stay up and call my sister and tell her what a wiener you are, mister i-don't-answer-the-phone-when-my-awesome-girlfriend-calls.

what we mean:

i hate that we were pissy with each other and i just wanted to make sure, before i went to bed, that you knew how much i love you. it sucks when you work late and i can't kick you out of bed with my booty. blah. hurry up and get home, i miss you.

what we'll say if you call back:

hey, no, i was up, just talking to my sister... you know, kids and stuff... recipes... yup, everything's cool, have fun and take your time, i'll see you whenever, no hurry. k love you too, bye sweetie.

what that means:

i wish i was two years old because i miss you and i'd rather have a big old stompy fit than be all cool-girlfriend-ish, but whatever. you called back, so i'll be sweet when you get home.

what we'll say if you don't call back:

nothing.

what that means:

you're screwed, dude.

i'm the worst mom ever.

thing one: do you want to play dungeons and dragons with me and mike, mom?

me: um, no thank you.

thing one: why, don't you like it? did you play it when you were my age?

me: no sweetie, when i was your age i went out with boys who beat up guys who played dungeons and dragons.

...cranky mom goes to play dungeons and dragons now.