I should have put Male somewhere in the title of my ad. Something like "Seeking: SWM." However, I thought "train wreck" was more accurate. I should also point out that the "W" is optional. I've simply found, in my experience, that white males make the most exceptional train wrecks. If you are a train wreck with the particular combination of being a tall, thin, bassist with dark curly hair, I will instantly fall in love with you. If you possess that particular combination and also drive a VW, I will not only instantly love you, I will take you home on the first date. Clearly, you are my soul mate. If you possess this particular combination and the thought of a woman loving you to the point of obsession after the first date is disturbing to you, even a little bit, clearly you are too healthy. Please do not respond to this ad. I know a healthy man when I see one, and I am not interested. You can't fool me. If the thought of love at all, even after months of togetherness, is disturbing to you, you may be the one for me.
I enjoy long, philosophical conversations that focus primarily on our former marriages. I would prefer that you do not have children from said former marriage as I prefer a man who cannot understand the pressures of being a single mother and will get annoyed when I cannot change my plans based on your golf game or fishing trip. I cannot resist a man who openly belittles my work in nonprofit theater, but will tell me several times in a ten-minute span that I am "hot" and/or a "MILF." I find this line of compliments especially charming when used to interrupt a discourse about the book I am currently reading or something important going on in the world, or after I've used a "big" word in conversation. I find it exceptionally captivating when you periodically disappear. This includes not responding to phone calls, text messages, or emails, and avoiding being physically present until you want to have sex. I love a man who only communicates through text messages. It gets right to the point when you are making a booty call after a disappearance. I find the element of surprise exhilarating, and keeps the relationship fresh. However, I prefer we not call it a relationship, and that we never talk about it or our feelings.
You should be planning a move, preferably out of state. You get extra points if you are a busy workaholic. Please be a ball of neurosis I will never be able to unravel, obsessive about your hair and clothing, and enjoy eying other women in front of me. If you are up for running away when you start to have feelings for me, please email me. Send an amazingly intelligent email, use correct punctuation, and give me hope that this time I've found a man worth putting faith into. Please include a picture of your VW.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Losing Hope
I was hoping I'd lose it.
That's why.
That's why I couldn't -
That's why I didn't tell you.
I couldn't be -
I didn't want to be -
That bitch.
The one who would say you can't leave
because of some life-altering event.
When, really, every event is life-altering.
Where do you draw the line?
I was worried right before you left.
Or whatever you did.
We never really talked about what "we" were.
I liked it that way.
I liked just reading the way you touched me.
I liked seeing it in your eyes,
In your smile.
My god your smile -
I suppose it's only appropriate that
We didn't talk about what we weren't going to be.
Deny what you want,
I saw it on your face -
All over your face -
The morning I woke up
With this baby inside of me.
Our baby.
I opened my eyes to you smiling.
Your eyes couldn't hold all the love inside of them.
And it scared you.
I felt so many things
Laying in your arms that morning.
I knew I'd found a man
Worth loving
If only I knew how.
I knew you'd found a woman
Worth loving
If only you knew how.
I knew you were scared enough to run
by the way you held me close
for so long we were both late for work.
I knew you'd run.
I knew I'd let you.
I knew we'd created something.
I just wanted to stay in your arms
In that patch of sunlight
Watching the snow fall.
I wanted to forget the future.
I knew when you kissed me goodbye
I wouldn't kiss you again.
You didn't know it.
But I did.
A week later, I still hadn't heard from you.
I was worried then.
About being late.
I was worried.
Two weeks later, I saw you with her.
And I knew.
I couldn't tell you.
I couldn't be that bitch.
I couldn't pull you back in.
I couldn't be her.
I couldn't tell you.
You didn't want me.
You chose a familiar, well-beaten path
Rather than to let us grow.
So, how could I tell you we were growing together anyway?
I know I'm not easy -
I'm not a woman who is easy to love.
And I know why you were scared.
I knew this baby would scare you even more.
And I have prayed for three months
That I'd lose it.
Her.
It's a girl.
I didn't want -
I don't want to trap you.
But I had to tell you.
That's why I asked you here.
So, I could tell you -
The way your eyes told me -
Only I'm telling you -
In words -
Because that's all I have now.
Words
And her.
I'm taking our chance at love
And I'm walking out of that door with it.
I'm giving you warning -
The warning you didn't give me.
Don't worry.
I'll hold her close.
And keep her in the sun.
I hope she has your smile
So I'll never miss it again.
That's why.
That's why I couldn't -
That's why I didn't tell you.
I couldn't be -
I didn't want to be -
That bitch.
The one who would say you can't leave
because of some life-altering event.
When, really, every event is life-altering.
Where do you draw the line?
I was worried right before you left.
Or whatever you did.
We never really talked about what "we" were.
I liked it that way.
I liked just reading the way you touched me.
I liked seeing it in your eyes,
In your smile.
My god your smile -
I suppose it's only appropriate that
We didn't talk about what we weren't going to be.
Deny what you want,
I saw it on your face -
All over your face -
The morning I woke up
With this baby inside of me.
Our baby.
I opened my eyes to you smiling.
Your eyes couldn't hold all the love inside of them.
And it scared you.
I felt so many things
Laying in your arms that morning.
I knew I'd found a man
Worth loving
If only I knew how.
I knew you'd found a woman
Worth loving
If only you knew how.
I knew you were scared enough to run
by the way you held me close
for so long we were both late for work.
I knew you'd run.
I knew I'd let you.
I knew we'd created something.
I just wanted to stay in your arms
In that patch of sunlight
Watching the snow fall.
I wanted to forget the future.
I knew when you kissed me goodbye
I wouldn't kiss you again.
You didn't know it.
But I did.
A week later, I still hadn't heard from you.
I was worried then.
About being late.
I was worried.
Two weeks later, I saw you with her.
And I knew.
I couldn't tell you.
I couldn't be that bitch.
I couldn't pull you back in.
I couldn't be her.
I couldn't tell you.
You didn't want me.
You chose a familiar, well-beaten path
Rather than to let us grow.
So, how could I tell you we were growing together anyway?
I know I'm not easy -
I'm not a woman who is easy to love.
And I know why you were scared.
I knew this baby would scare you even more.
And I have prayed for three months
That I'd lose it.
Her.
It's a girl.
I didn't want -
I don't want to trap you.
But I had to tell you.
That's why I asked you here.
So, I could tell you -
The way your eyes told me -
Only I'm telling you -
In words -
Because that's all I have now.
Words
And her.
I'm taking our chance at love
And I'm walking out of that door with it.
I'm giving you warning -
The warning you didn't give me.
Don't worry.
I'll hold her close.
And keep her in the sun.
I hope she has your smile
So I'll never miss it again.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
To My Grandmother
From the myspace archives.
To My Grandmother
(written November 17, 2008)
I still remember
white bed
blurry at the time
due to watering the pink roses
that you stitched on the spread
with a prayer in each
for me
I still remember
gentle hands
smoothing my hair
stroking my face
rubbing my back
hands that smelled
of cigarettes and lotion
and pearlescent polish
I still remember
shh, shh, shh softly
never telling me
not to cry
to stop that mess
or you'd give me something to cry about
just gentle clucking
I call my daughter Chicken
My little Chicken
I still remember
pride in your voice
the way you would say it
as you held me close
letting me smell
a hint of magnolia
from the blossoms
always in a glass bowl on your table
flowers bloom
from cracks left behind in rocks
you saw one forming
in your arms
under your hands
I still remember
confusing you
with the Virgin Mary
wanting to call you Mother
to always breathe
cigarettes, lotion, magnolia
to always hear
clucking
to always feel
warm
soft
now I only hope
the cracks left behind
grow pink roses
To My Grandmother
(written November 17, 2008)
I still remember
white bed
blurry at the time
due to watering the pink roses
that you stitched on the spread
with a prayer in each
for me
I still remember
gentle hands
smoothing my hair
stroking my face
rubbing my back
hands that smelled
of cigarettes and lotion
and pearlescent polish
I still remember
shh, shh, shh softly
never telling me
not to cry
to stop that mess
or you'd give me something to cry about
just gentle clucking
I call my daughter Chicken
My little Chicken
I still remember
pride in your voice
the way you would say it
as you held me close
letting me smell
a hint of magnolia
from the blossoms
always in a glass bowl on your table
flowers bloom
from cracks left behind in rocks
you saw one forming
in your arms
under your hands
I still remember
confusing you
with the Virgin Mary
wanting to call you Mother
to always breathe
cigarettes, lotion, magnolia
to always hear
clucking
to always feel
warm
soft
now I only hope
the cracks left behind
grow pink roses
Sarcasm Explained
From the myspace archives.
Sarcasm Explained
(written October 21, 2008)
I like to stay in my room while the kids are first awake, getting breakfast, getting ready for school. I love to listen to them when they think I'm not listening. This morning, I caught a gem.
Girl: I'm telling.
Boy: Nooooooo!!!!
My daughter walks into my room with her nose in the air. My son walks in quickly at her heals. He's carrying a rod from a set of blinds I took down. Uh-oh.
Girl: Mom, T__ just put that curtain stick thing in his cereal.
Me: Gimme the curtain stick thing.
The kids leave my room to go back to the kitchen.
Boy: Thanks a lot, M___ .
Girl: (sweetly) You're welcome.
Boy: I didn't really mean thank you. I meant something else. I meant you're a meanie.
Girl: Mooooooommmmm!!!!
Good morning, kids.
Sarcasm Explained
(written October 21, 2008)
I like to stay in my room while the kids are first awake, getting breakfast, getting ready for school. I love to listen to them when they think I'm not listening. This morning, I caught a gem.
Girl: I'm telling.
Boy: Nooooooo!!!!
My daughter walks into my room with her nose in the air. My son walks in quickly at her heals. He's carrying a rod from a set of blinds I took down. Uh-oh.
Girl: Mom, T__ just put that curtain stick thing in his cereal.
Me: Gimme the curtain stick thing.
The kids leave my room to go back to the kitchen.
Boy: Thanks a lot, M___ .
Girl: (sweetly) You're welcome.
Boy: I didn't really mean thank you. I meant something else. I meant you're a meanie.
Girl: Mooooooommmmm!!!!
Good morning, kids.
Streams
From the myspace archives.
Streams
(written October 20, 2008)
Tonight, attempts to shut down thoughts only create more thoughts and sleep escapes me. I read the same three pages over and over, and I still don't know what they say, but my thoughts interest me more. Even though I'm not sure what the words on the page say, I wonder why I can't write like Kerouac. Not that his style is much more than what you'd read in my journals, minus the bad poetry and rewrites. For some reason, I think of the color pink but I see strange shades of lavenders and greens. My walls behind my closed eyes. So, I get up. I write. I can't find my journal, so readers of my blog get to suffer this evening. No funny anecdotes to relate this evening. Just want to sleep and hope that exorcising my thoughts will bring me just that. The problem is the thoughts run so fast, I can't quite remember them all from moment to moment, and in just the time it took to search for my journal, which I now remember I threw in my purse in a just-in-case moment, to fuckthejournal, turn on the computer and get here . . . Where was I going with this? Sleep. Funny. It's early for me. But I fell asleep on the couch tonight, 8ish, son snuggled onto my hip, DVD with animated animals who talk and I've seen it so many times I can recite every animal's inner dialogue. But I think he needed mom's hip tonight. They spent the weekend away, and I loved the quiet, the peace, the clean, the doing yoga in my underwear in the living room hearing only my sounding breath and feeling my own smile. Sometimes, it's nice to not hear "MOM!!" or feel the tug on the leg or wear a bracelet that says I can be interrupted during my class because I am Mother. Infuriating. And then he asked to watch TV with me. Of course. And all is well. At times I see that smile and I can't breathe. The universe, God, higher power, whatever name you want to give it, gave me that smile. And it put me to sleep on the couch with a smile on my own face. They are both sleeping now. There is quiet, but the quiet is filled with something I can't explain, not even to myself. And I can't sleep. And I have thought of things that have nothing to do with my children, but thoughts of a universe filled with magic because I'm not sure what else to call it right now. My universe. Overlapping other universes. Waves in all directions. People, amazing things that they are. Amazing energy in my life. Exciting and terrifying. And I wonder how I am calm and smiling when all I want is sleep that I'm not meant to have right now. I wonder how other people can ignore or deny or make fun of the energy surrounding us all. I have only begun to learn to follow where the universe is pointing, and I'm getting better all the time. It keeps a calm smile in my soul. Maybe other people would be happier if they did the same. But it's kind of hard to follow something you ridicule. Like the government. But those are thoughts I can't deal with now. I'll never sleep. Responses to questions could have been better, but somehow I think my disjointed monosyllables or notquitesentences were understood and taken to heart. I think of my grandfather sitting in the chair in which my grandmother used to sit. And I think of her blanket that I pulled out when the chill came into the air. And I wonder why thoughts of her keep me awake, among other things. My nephew is two and I heard his little voice say "Hi Aunt Leann" in the phone today, and I wonder what it must be like to be so tiny and to be handed a voice and told to tell that voice named Aunt Leann that you love it. I miss him. I've only met him 3 times for a couple of days at a time. How do little people imprint themselves on you so quickly? I worry. And it keeps me awake. I remember a time, I ran myself to death with work, school, babies, love, hate and I never had trouble sleeping. Now, life is calmer, happier, more love and I can't say I hate. So, why does sleep escape me now? I have more time to think, maybe. And thoughts lead to more thoughts. But I think I am too tired to relate anymore of mine tonight.
Streams
(written October 20, 2008)
Tonight, attempts to shut down thoughts only create more thoughts and sleep escapes me. I read the same three pages over and over, and I still don't know what they say, but my thoughts interest me more. Even though I'm not sure what the words on the page say, I wonder why I can't write like Kerouac. Not that his style is much more than what you'd read in my journals, minus the bad poetry and rewrites. For some reason, I think of the color pink but I see strange shades of lavenders and greens. My walls behind my closed eyes. So, I get up. I write. I can't find my journal, so readers of my blog get to suffer this evening. No funny anecdotes to relate this evening. Just want to sleep and hope that exorcising my thoughts will bring me just that. The problem is the thoughts run so fast, I can't quite remember them all from moment to moment, and in just the time it took to search for my journal, which I now remember I threw in my purse in a just-in-case moment, to fuckthejournal, turn on the computer and get here . . . Where was I going with this? Sleep. Funny. It's early for me. But I fell asleep on the couch tonight, 8ish, son snuggled onto my hip, DVD with animated animals who talk and I've seen it so many times I can recite every animal's inner dialogue. But I think he needed mom's hip tonight. They spent the weekend away, and I loved the quiet, the peace, the clean, the doing yoga in my underwear in the living room hearing only my sounding breath and feeling my own smile. Sometimes, it's nice to not hear "MOM!!" or feel the tug on the leg or wear a bracelet that says I can be interrupted during my class because I am Mother. Infuriating. And then he asked to watch TV with me. Of course. And all is well. At times I see that smile and I can't breathe. The universe, God, higher power, whatever name you want to give it, gave me that smile. And it put me to sleep on the couch with a smile on my own face. They are both sleeping now. There is quiet, but the quiet is filled with something I can't explain, not even to myself. And I can't sleep. And I have thought of things that have nothing to do with my children, but thoughts of a universe filled with magic because I'm not sure what else to call it right now. My universe. Overlapping other universes. Waves in all directions. People, amazing things that they are. Amazing energy in my life. Exciting and terrifying. And I wonder how I am calm and smiling when all I want is sleep that I'm not meant to have right now. I wonder how other people can ignore or deny or make fun of the energy surrounding us all. I have only begun to learn to follow where the universe is pointing, and I'm getting better all the time. It keeps a calm smile in my soul. Maybe other people would be happier if they did the same. But it's kind of hard to follow something you ridicule. Like the government. But those are thoughts I can't deal with now. I'll never sleep. Responses to questions could have been better, but somehow I think my disjointed monosyllables or notquitesentences were understood and taken to heart. I think of my grandfather sitting in the chair in which my grandmother used to sit. And I think of her blanket that I pulled out when the chill came into the air. And I wonder why thoughts of her keep me awake, among other things. My nephew is two and I heard his little voice say "Hi Aunt Leann" in the phone today, and I wonder what it must be like to be so tiny and to be handed a voice and told to tell that voice named Aunt Leann that you love it. I miss him. I've only met him 3 times for a couple of days at a time. How do little people imprint themselves on you so quickly? I worry. And it keeps me awake. I remember a time, I ran myself to death with work, school, babies, love, hate and I never had trouble sleeping. Now, life is calmer, happier, more love and I can't say I hate. So, why does sleep escape me now? I have more time to think, maybe. And thoughts lead to more thoughts. But I think I am too tired to relate anymore of mine tonight.
Life Lesson 3249874
From the myspace archives.
Life Lesson 3249874
(written September 18, 2008)
The following conversation was held this morning while getting ready for school:
Boy: I wish I could be a dad forever.
Me: When you have kids, you will be a dad forever.
Boy: But I need a wife!
Me: Yes, you do. But go to college before you get married.
Boy: I know! But when I get a wife, she'll get babies in her belly. And then she will pop them out. They will pop right out of her tummy. But I won't get babies in my belly because I'm a boy.
Does this really need any extra commentary from me??
Life Lesson 3249874
(written September 18, 2008)
The following conversation was held this morning while getting ready for school:
Boy: I wish I could be a dad forever.
Me: When you have kids, you will be a dad forever.
Boy: But I need a wife!
Me: Yes, you do. But go to college before you get married.
Boy: I know! But when I get a wife, she'll get babies in her belly. And then she will pop them out. They will pop right out of her tummy. But I won't get babies in my belly because I'm a boy.
Does this really need any extra commentary from me??
My Ugly Day
From the myspace archives.
My Ugly Day
(written August 24, 2008)
My Ugly Day
(written August 24, 2008)
Lately, I've been getting more attention than I'm used to. In part because I've been working out like mad, and look great. In part because I'm newly divorced, and men can smell the single on me. In part because I've been in a happy place and am putting out lots of positive energy into the universe and I'm getting it back. In part because I'm confident and finally becoming my own person. It's been nice for the most part. I'm not entirely adjusted to it, and I've had to dodge a couple of cars. But hey . . .
Today, I got a lot of attention when I was walking the public streets. After my words above, you may be wondering why today is special. Two words: Savor Providence. I was working the event today. So that the staff and volunteers stood out, we wore neon green t-shirts. Medium was the smallest size they ordered. When I was handed mine, I asked if I could just wear a belt and stilettos with it and really rock it out. I was told no. Sigh . . . So, I show up in my huge bright green shirt and jeans. I was a pair of tapered acid wash jeans and a scrunchie away from being the coolest kid from 1989! As long as I was in the box office, I was fine. People understood why I was wearing it. Ordinary civilians, on the other hand, had no idea what to make of the hideousness that was The Savor Providence Uniform while I was roaming the streets for icecream.
My friend, who never fails to point out that he can't believe I have two children, said "Oh, my . . . Don't you look . . . earth-friendly today." I ran over to the mall today, and was not stopped by the T-mobile guy this time. I guess he didn't want me too close to the merchandise since I was obviously on break from my community service. The chick in front of me on the escalator did the turn around to get a better look at me but pretended she wasn't looking by continuing to look around over my head. You could see the "Oh, dear God," go through her head. Trust me, love, I felt the same way. The guys who are always sitting out on the street and call me "the pretty intellectual girl" looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. Traffic did not stop to let me cross today. The street cleaners looked at me with pity.
Next I should see if I can sneak into prison with this thing.
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