There was this girl. We were young together, she more so than I. I haven't seen or thought of her in years, and I never thought to notice her much then. But I remember her face. I remember the shape and shade of her hair. I remember the shining of her eyes, and the crescent moon of her smile.
I have not seen her in several years, and then only in passing. Thought of her have never crossed my mind. If you asked me how I knew her, I could not tell you. I never knew her last name, or her favorite song, or whether she preferred her tea hot or cold. I never knew if her mother was kind but sometimes sharp with her words, or if her father still tickled her like he did when she was three. I don't know if she ever kissed a boy out in the senior parking lot, when the teachers weren't looking for them. I don't even know her last name.
I do not know if she texted while she was driving. I don't know if, frustrated by the nearness of forbidden fruit, she had been drinking with her friends this weekend. I don't know if the boy, perhaps the one who had held her tight the last time she cried, was trying to show her some funny picture on his ipod. I don't know if, for just one insignificant, happy, forever moment, your eyes were forced tightly closed by largeness of her laughter.
But I know that she is dead.
I know that her mother sees no reason for living anymore.
I know that her abuelo has laid in bed, curled upon himself, since the night it happened.
And I know that, for some reason, some indefinable deeper-than-science reason--I know I am grieving you, too.
I'll miss you, Jetselli.
Monday
Thursday
Extension
Ever go to update your status on [enter social networking site of choice here], and suddenly there just aren't words for what you're feeling? That's me a lot of the time. I posted something abstract/vague/metaphorical enough to suffice for my overall mood, but here I thought I'd give you lovely readers the extended version.
- Glad to be done with work for the day, but
- still stressing about work tomorrow and
- vaguely worrying about work tomorrow, not to mention
- Attracted to two (very) different guys and
- trying to drop the right hint that the third guy hasn't got a chance but
- feeling more than a little bit sorry for him and
- distracted by ghosts of boyfriends past, so
- feeling vaguely inadequate around the one of them, but
- not hoping too much for the other
- and I haven't had much socializing lately, so I'm feeling lonely
- and my birthday--ohdearheavenpleasenotthisagain--is coming up soon
- and my family is facing a new addition
- and my relationship with my dad sucks (nothing new, really, but still)
- and I think my mom's mad at me, but I can't figure why
- and I keep thinking up all this awesome-sounding poetry, but I can't ever remember any of it when it's time to write it down
- and it looks stupid written down
- and so does my resume
- which is probably why I can't get a decent job
- and I still have homework to do tonight, only
- I just really wish someone would talk with me
- and hold me
- and tell me that things will be all right soon enough, you'll see, there there.
Monday
One tequila, two tequila...
So. Internet's back. Huzzah. I'd like to say that I wrote something to post while it was down, but I'm told that lying is bad for the soul. (But I've heard the same thing said of Calculus, and with only a hint of irony, so we'll see which one gets to me first.)
I have a birthday coming up here soon. It's funny to think that this is one of the last 'milestones' I'll be hitting any time soon. (I somehow don't think I'll be celebrating the quarter-of-a-century milestone with nearly as much enthusiasm as I have now.) And even though it's not actually my birthday for a few more days, I think I've already gone through the majority of the festivities. Thank goodness. I've never been one to enjoy random, meaningless gifts given to commemorate the fact that I've managed to survive for so many years. Honestly, my parents probably deserve to be gifted more than I do--they're the ones who've let me live!
The one thing I do like is having an excuse to have friends come around. Summer birthdays suck when you're still in grade school, because everyone's always out of town, and not everyone lives near enough to arrange a ride. The last couple of years, though, have been a lot better. My social circle is smaller than it was, but the friends are of a better quality. And they all tend to have their own cars, or their own means of getting here, which is less for me to worry about. Under such conditions, even I don't mind playing hostess.
That being said, I plan to spend my weekend celebrating the anniversary of my emancipation from my mother's womb, and the fact that I haven't driven my parents to murder me [yet], and the fact that I am legally permitted to purchase and consume alcoholic concoctions. I wouldn't expect another post until later next week (unless I happen to "drunk post." I've already made plans to have my phone confiscated, but I've only just thought about the computer...).
I wish you all good things, until next time. <3
I have a birthday coming up here soon. It's funny to think that this is one of the last 'milestones' I'll be hitting any time soon. (I somehow don't think I'll be celebrating the quarter-of-a-century milestone with nearly as much enthusiasm as I have now.) And even though it's not actually my birthday for a few more days, I think I've already gone through the majority of the festivities. Thank goodness. I've never been one to enjoy random, meaningless gifts given to commemorate the fact that I've managed to survive for so many years. Honestly, my parents probably deserve to be gifted more than I do--they're the ones who've let me live!
The one thing I do like is having an excuse to have friends come around. Summer birthdays suck when you're still in grade school, because everyone's always out of town, and not everyone lives near enough to arrange a ride. The last couple of years, though, have been a lot better. My social circle is smaller than it was, but the friends are of a better quality. And they all tend to have their own cars, or their own means of getting here, which is less for me to worry about. Under such conditions, even I don't mind playing hostess.
That being said, I plan to spend my weekend celebrating the anniversary of my emancipation from my mother's womb, and the fact that I haven't driven my parents to murder me [yet], and the fact that I am legally permitted to purchase and consume alcoholic concoctions. I wouldn't expect another post until later next week (unless I happen to "drunk post." I've already made plans to have my phone confiscated, but I've only just thought about the computer...).
I wish you all good things, until next time. <3
Tuesday
Cracks in the Concrete
So I have(/had? You'll see.) this friend, right? We call him Turtle. He's a pretty great guy. Sweet and funny and creative--generally well-likeable. We 'dated' for a few weeks in high school, but he reminded me too much of my little brother to keep it up for long. (I told him this, and after meeting my brother, he totally agreed.) We've been slightly-awkward-but-still-good friends ever since.
Until about five months ago. I was going through a rough patch with the guy I'd been seeing. Turtle had always been receptive to my 'guy issues' before, partly because I so rarely get to see him (Turtle) and partly because there's not usually a whole lot going on on that front. And partly because Turtle's a theatre-guy, so he's used to all the drama.
So we were walking back to my car from a nearby Starbucks. (Yes, I know that makes me a corporate sell-out. But they have good chai. Bite me.) And we're--well, I'm--just talking about nothing too particular, and then he just leans over and kisses me. Mouth, not cheek, and no tongue attempted. At the time, I was too surprised to do anything. He said goodnight, turned around, and headed for his own car; I got in mine and started driving home. What else was I supposed to do? I wasn't entirely sure it had even happened.
We met up again the following week, same place. (Do you know how hard it is to find good chai in this part of the country? Not even Twining's does good chai, as much love as I have for their product. It's insane!) Same scenario: we talk, we get to my car, he kisses me, I don't react, we part ways. Although this time, on my way home, he calls me. He says he was sorry, that he didn't know what came over him, and that it doesn't have to mean anything.
That is exactly what he said, "it doesn't have to mean anything." But I know that he wants it to. Even though I was (albeit technically, since I had already decided to ditch the guy but hadn't actually done so yet) seeing someone, even though he knew how I thought of him, even though he knows I don't particularly believe in second chances in that context. I suppose I'd known for a while that he wanted more than a platonic, "let's be friends" situation from me. But I never expected him to try and act on that, especially not when what I really needed was a good friend. I thought he had a little more... control? respect? adroit-ness? than that.
Like I said, this was all five months ago. I haven't talked to him since then, and he hasn't called me either. The reason I'm dwelling on this now is that he messaged me via social media last night, saying that he was in a bad spot emotionally, and that, even though I was mad at him still, could I please call him and talk. This is not unusual at all; I'd get calls like this from him every so often for something not such a big deal, and we'd talk things out, and he'd be okay. But I've also never been this... upset by him before. (I hesitate to say 'angry.' I don't think I was ever angry at him for this, it was more like hurt/confused/aggravated/alarmed/guilty I think.)
So part of me wants to see what's up with an old friend, but I still feel the need to keep him at arm's length. Can I do that? Can I distance myself enough so that he doesn't have a chance to bungle things that badly again? Or should I be willing to fall into the intimacy we used to share, at the risk of taking the same blow to the chest?
What say ye, faithful readers?
Until about five months ago. I was going through a rough patch with the guy I'd been seeing. Turtle had always been receptive to my 'guy issues' before, partly because I so rarely get to see him (Turtle) and partly because there's not usually a whole lot going on on that front. And partly because Turtle's a theatre-guy, so he's used to all the drama.
So we were walking back to my car from a nearby Starbucks. (Yes, I know that makes me a corporate sell-out. But they have good chai. Bite me.) And we're--well, I'm--just talking about nothing too particular, and then he just leans over and kisses me. Mouth, not cheek, and no tongue attempted. At the time, I was too surprised to do anything. He said goodnight, turned around, and headed for his own car; I got in mine and started driving home. What else was I supposed to do? I wasn't entirely sure it had even happened.
We met up again the following week, same place. (Do you know how hard it is to find good chai in this part of the country? Not even Twining's does good chai, as much love as I have for their product. It's insane!) Same scenario: we talk, we get to my car, he kisses me, I don't react, we part ways. Although this time, on my way home, he calls me. He says he was sorry, that he didn't know what came over him, and that it doesn't have to mean anything.
That is exactly what he said, "it doesn't have to mean anything." But I know that he wants it to. Even though I was (albeit technically, since I had already decided to ditch the guy but hadn't actually done so yet) seeing someone, even though he knew how I thought of him, even though he knows I don't particularly believe in second chances in that context. I suppose I'd known for a while that he wanted more than a platonic, "let's be friends" situation from me. But I never expected him to try and act on that, especially not when what I really needed was a good friend. I thought he had a little more... control? respect? adroit-ness? than that.
Like I said, this was all five months ago. I haven't talked to him since then, and he hasn't called me either. The reason I'm dwelling on this now is that he messaged me via social media last night, saying that he was in a bad spot emotionally, and that, even though I was mad at him still, could I please call him and talk. This is not unusual at all; I'd get calls like this from him every so often for something not such a big deal, and we'd talk things out, and he'd be okay. But I've also never been this... upset by him before. (I hesitate to say 'angry.' I don't think I was ever angry at him for this, it was more like hurt/confused/aggravated/alarmed/guilty I think.)
So part of me wants to see what's up with an old friend, but I still feel the need to keep him at arm's length. Can I do that? Can I distance myself enough so that he doesn't have a chance to bungle things that badly again? Or should I be willing to fall into the intimacy we used to share, at the risk of taking the same blow to the chest?
What say ye, faithful readers?
Writing Exercise #1
I took a creative writing class about four years ago. No, I am not suggesting that anyone else do so. I am not endorsing your local community or community college writing courses. There's nothing taught that you can't learn from your own extensive reading & experimentation, although the networking can be helpful & the setting works better for some than others.
I did, however, have a whole lot of fun with the exercises we did. I came across my notebook for that class just recently, and thought it might be fun to redo a few of them, to see how my style [and, I suppose, myself] has changed. This one turned out alright, so I thought you all might like to see it & try it out for yourselves.
The object of this is to get your juices flowing, and flowing fast. Set a timer for about thirty seconds (I'd say no more than a minute), and write as many sentences as you can think of that start with personal pronouns (I, me, my, etc). They don't have to be true or original. They can be about you, or a character you're thinking of, or the person sitting next to you. Just start writing already.
I am short. I have short hair. I have a short temper. I love, I want to be loved as much as I am loved, but that hasn't happened yet. I wonder what's wrong with me sometimes. I can't see. I am a princess. I hate pink and frills and bows. I want love. I am perfect, just a little worn. I am sick. I like to look at summers through the window. I like swimming. I can sing the blues with a smile on, and still turn heads. I sing love songs with tears in my eyes at midnight by myself. I am inspired by quotes on swing seats.
I did, however, have a whole lot of fun with the exercises we did. I came across my notebook for that class just recently, and thought it might be fun to redo a few of them, to see how my style [and, I suppose, myself] has changed. This one turned out alright, so I thought you all might like to see it & try it out for yourselves.
The object of this is to get your juices flowing, and flowing fast. Set a timer for about thirty seconds (I'd say no more than a minute), and write as many sentences as you can think of that start with personal pronouns (I, me, my, etc). They don't have to be true or original. They can be about you, or a character you're thinking of, or the person sitting next to you. Just start writing already.
I am short. I have short hair. I have a short temper. I love, I want to be loved as much as I am loved, but that hasn't happened yet. I wonder what's wrong with me sometimes. I can't see. I am a princess. I hate pink and frills and bows. I want love. I am perfect, just a little worn. I am sick. I like to look at summers through the window. I like swimming. I can sing the blues with a smile on, and still turn heads. I sing love songs with tears in my eyes at midnight by myself. I am inspired by quotes on swing seats.
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