My BFF Kate

Holy Shitballs! My BFF Kate is so talented. Look y'all.

my anti-feminist shower

So something has been bothering me for the last two weeks and it is this: my shower is the most anti-feminist thing I have ever encountered.

Firstly, my roommate has this Aussie shampoo which reads, *ahem* "It's the reason you've dated a chain of Mr. Wrongs. Now watch as healthy, touchable hair lures many Mr. Rights." Oh, gag.

Secondly, my Suave shampoo reads, "Every mom can ride the bus to beautiful. Instructions: Get kids safely to school and retreat to shower. For best results, use with Suave blah blah blah before your own grown-up playdate. Then apply conditioner. Leave in for three minutes...more blah blah...Use the time to plan an outfit that does not involve an elastic waistband. And while you're at it, do something else just for you-like blah blah blah and restock your lingerie drawer fully with the likes of things that drawer has never seen." P.S. I am wearing elastic waistbanded shorts right now, and they are damn comfortable.

Ok, so because my life lacks feminist oriented luster and I actually crave to read the shampoop bottles (which is way lame) I have taken to being utterly disgusted when I take a shower. This is sad because I just bought a new shower head that is pretty damn fancy and I'm not even able to get my money's worth out of it because when I get in there and am reminded of the heterosexualized mainstream product trying to make me into a mom and my roommate into a straight lady I just want the fuck out of that shower. This is not to say that being a mom isn't wonderful or that mom's don't deserve to feel beautiful or that maybe my roomie's Aussie products won't give her the man of her dreams. It's just that I don't understand the appeal. Beauty is on the inside and at the end of the day what makes me feel beautiful is not that my hair looks good, it's that I did a good job at work or that I had a really meaningful conversation with my mom or that I wrote a poem that made me feel like T.S. Eliot. Not that I am anything as good as T.S. Eliot but it's cool to feel like I might be for just a brief second in the same mindset as him. But I'm pretty sure Eliot wouldn't care what kind of shampoo I use or even if he would mind if I had showered that day.

Thoughts?

1:11 am EST

is there room
how much is required
may i breath for that room for cream
or the spot in the floor where a table might
chance for a position there
will it fit
i am
sitting pondering the presence of
a shard of glass
and what used to be attached to it
forming the complete transparent unit
it was beautiful in its entirety
it remains lovely in its fractured state

will it fall
once pieced together again
will it seal itself
mending the silent impact that forced it apart
maybe with tape
or magic glue
it may take more than one application
it may take some forgetting
it may take running out of mending options

units of time unknown to the materials required

of the raw edges to find their way
back together for a suitable fit

like that spot you know is so very comfortable
in your bed at night
amongst the pillows and the blankets
the course sheets just so
and your arm this particular way
underneath that unique spot
beneath her neck
with my leg like that

sometimes you can find it quietly
easily
other nights it can take some time
and several tries to discover it again
and others still are lost in the search
leaving you unable to be

It's probably sad that I'm publishing this on an open to the public blog but apparently I have no life or self respect so whatevs...

Have you ever noticed the pieces of yourself that got lost when you dated someone and how nice it is to have those pieces back in your life once you're single again? Well, I got so excited about these things that I made a list tonight because I was drinking wine and well...that's what I do when I drink wine...I make lists. *drum roll*

1. Drink lots of wine.
2. Read lots of internet news slash astrology articles.
3. Listen to Ani DiFranco. on repeat. everyday. because she's fucking hott.
4. Get excited about random things like Melba Toast.
5. Eat raw everything because I'm tired of cooking for one.
6. Shop online.
7. Sit around contemplating who writes better poetry Tennyson or Eliot?
8. Talk like I'm Jewish.
9. Do number 8 with other people who like to do number 8.
10. Wear dirty clothes.
11. Not bathe until it's absolutely necessary.

This could keep going but I think I'm losing self respect so I'm gonna just finish this wine and do some more of number 7 and then go to bed.

12:27 am EST

part of the destination is getting there
the journey is the adventure
and so on and so forth

we walked this way
over cracks and dandelion petals
and dog poop
through water
and over muddy trodden grassy patches
into a full days worth of doings.
the sun shone warmly, filtered through the raindrops
and you could trace a rainbow with your finger through the sky
from one end to the other with one eye squinted.
that arch was full and complete,
just like that day,
just like that journey.

it was the
tasting
and the turning towards the unknown.
with me pondering and you playing
and my fingers wrinkled from the moisture in the air
just like after a long bath; they were the same
leaving me feeling
fulfillment in the loss,
the pleasure from the pain.
my stomach was empty but i felt full
my feet happily ached
i was satisfied and fatigued
body heavy with exhaustion
the pockets of life were full with the gifts collected
on that wakeful walking adventure

and i think that every day ought to be this way
and i think you feel that way too.

3:01 am EST

i could read you a lot of bullshit
about babbling brooks that bubble over with excitement
when the thought of you impedes my mind
and about how my soul sings out from the swelling sea
when i look into your eyes
or about how i want to watch the seasons change with your hand in mine
but i won't because these things won't do
until you're due for them

i myself am humming often now
and yelling lyrically against the whirling winds that come through my car window
as i drive here and there
near and far from you
while you rest
or are doing what it is that you do

i wonder alone, as i wander you
meandering moments of misery and mystery
daily dialogue of disdain and deliberate diction
force a silent aching
but i am quiet
for you
i remain in a state of hopeful hysteria
am i ok?
i haven't a hope for that in this moment
but i will be in the moments you are in my presence
which are my hopes
all of them

i have a boy crush

For the past week I have been listening to the most amazingly talented musician. His lyrics are iconically moving and his voice brings my body to a full fledged quiver. He is Gregory Alan Isakov, and his fiddling sidekick has induced frantic yellow page searches for viola rental options. Check him out...you won't be sorry.

here

or

here

or

here

I was introduced to Gregory at a Brandi Carlile show last week at the fabulous Eddie's Attic in Decatur. Let's just say I was so taken aback that I marched right up to his table after the show to purchase his cd and didn't even look in the general direction of Brandi's merchandise. Don't take this as a dig on Brandi's performance, presence or musical talentencia. Because her portion of the show was also impressive slash astounding. I think it could just be that I was too drunk for her portion of the show to be as impressed as my sober introduction to Gregory. It could also just be about his hat?

Basically, I have a boy crush on so many soul singing levels. And you should have the same soulful boy crush as me...I'm just sayin'.