tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

i have a friend who is newly in love. isn't that nice? it really is. every time we see each other, she reminds me, "i'm in love, you know?" and i always remind her that i'm so excited for her. she likes him AND she loves him. that's fabulous. she thinks that when he posts pictures of planking, it's funny. and she'll show me photos of him on his facebook page and swoon over how handsome he is. and she's happy when she says his name. it's great. it's nice to have a friend newly in love.
in the scheme of things, i'm newly in love, too. 8 years, really, is a blink of an eye.
i'm a lucky girl.


in other news, i really would like something cold to eat.

still don't know what i was waiting for

i want to start keeping a food journal.
but i want to do it for the right reason.
not because i'm some freak -
but i am a freak about this thing.
maybe it'll help, that's what i've been thinking.
probably it will help. but i should probably start on a day when i don't eat french toast and back for breakfast?
i don't know. maybe i should start writing again.
maybe i should try to find a Rupert Giles for my life.

i don't even know how to start.
i should probably just watch Buffy on netflix and kitten videos on the internets.
maybe i should skip work today to do those things...

bottom of the bottle

please let me tell you about how well my friends know me.
this is a little collage of birthday gifts received:
UV protection for blonde hair!!! Did you know I have a real problem called hairexia? I do.
The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry!!!
Bright finger nail polish!!
and
OPI (!!) Shatter polish.
I mean, talk about hitting the nail on the head. Also for birthday gifts I received American Eagle money (!!), 3 little writing journals, a book with poetry prompts, a bottle of whiskey, two adorable little bottles of fancy alcohol, a cute pink bird to hold all my paper clips, a red winged black bird key chain, a X-files book and lots and lots of love. I think I must either be a) super open and vulnerable about my life b) *really really* easy to buy for or c) a combination of those two things.

anyway, i want this blog post to be a little braggy. because honestly, i do have the best friends. and not only because they buy me things, but mostly because they know how to buy for me.

i'm not the man they think i am at all

I've said it before and quite honestly, I'll say it ten thousand times before death becomes me, Tennessee lives in my bones. All in all, I'm just an ol' girl from a hollow. I try to function properly away from the mountains and away from the water, but I'm failing miserably. I don't belong here.
I'm supposed to be somewhere else. Somewhere not here - somewhere tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
I envy the people who up and move.
Just down right jealous. I want my skin to fall off in southern dirt - and my bones to be eternally red from the clay they absorb. When I'm sad, I want to be sad with cicadas and katydids and tall, flaky cedars.
It doesn't matter.

I'm still swaying from spending a week on the lake. It was fabulous.
I'm jealous of the week I just had. I want to go back to there. I want to do my birthday all over and get just as drunk. I want to get mad at my brother, throw down my biscuits and gravy and yell at him all over again because hugging after a fight like that is so sweet. This past week rocked my face off my skull. I miss it already, like I miss a lover who just moved away to bigger and better and prettier.
Vacations cause voids. I'm going to say vacations are void-ish.

good morning, 'merica, how are ya'?

I'm starting to look more like the person i know. summer does that to me. brings out my real skin tone, let's my hair do what it wants -you know. and when i'm near the water, my body feels weirdly at ease. it doesn't make sense. it might have something to do with my gray eyes and the ancient water that's kin to my blood. maybe.
i should live near water.
it's just too damn bad that i'll never be able to afford it.
enough of that.
let me tell you, husband and i went to St. Joe, Michigan yesterday for a wedding. i basically am in love.
we stayed in a motel about 15 minutes away from the beach. 15 minutes.
did i ever tell you that for 3 whole years i commuted 26 miles (about 35 minutes) one way to work everyday? 15 minutes seems like child's play.

the fireworks in the background remind me to tell my readers "happy independence day". i will also add, don't go chasing waterfalls.

i will remember you

your memory rests heavy on me today. i feel you on my skin.
i think i'm real fucked up, drinking to remember what it's like to feel, listening to ballads from my childhood. i like to remember. i like what i am when i remember. i'm little. and happy and sticky with summer sweat and dirty feet and poison ivy and a sun burned nose.
you loved me like no one can.
i loved you uniquely, too, you know?

what i want to say, i say everytime i write a poem.
but here it is again,
i don't believe everything happens for a reason.
i believe that your death was just another way for chaos to live in my blood.
but that i believe chaos is part of it.
you were part of it and we loved hard for a few years.

so, after years, i wish you were next to me.
people talk about their dads, and they don't get it.
they don't get what it's like living without - i get it.
and i fucking hate it. more and more everyday.