Book of erotica to comfort you about your recent lack of snuggles: $20.26.
Baking mix to make brownies to ease your romantic sorrow: $3.19.
Moleskine journal to document all your angst: $29.90.
Having the boy of your dreams show up at your door to ask you out unexpectedly: priceless.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
word vomit
"i still like him a lot."
i say this like i'm expecting her
to be surprised, even though
she's my ex-girlfriend so she knows
exaaaaactly how long it takes for me
to evict illegal inhabitants
from my harrowed heart.
she smiles because she knows i'm
pathetic & i can't help it
& maybe she remembers (warmly?)
the quiet excitement of that time so long ago when
she was the bad habit i just couldn't kick.
it's tricky business spilling angst
to an ex whose eyes still kinda sorta
mean something. it stings a little
retelling emergencies to a face that still
sets off soft alarms in my head.
as if i can
help it,
though.
i say this like i'm expecting her
to be surprised, even though
she's my ex-girlfriend so she knows
exaaaaactly how long it takes for me
to evict illegal inhabitants
from my harrowed heart.
she smiles because she knows i'm
pathetic & i can't help it
& maybe she remembers (warmly?)
the quiet excitement of that time so long ago when
she was the bad habit i just couldn't kick.
it's tricky business spilling angst
to an ex whose eyes still kinda sorta
mean something. it stings a little
retelling emergencies to a face that still
sets off soft alarms in my head.
as if i can
help it,
though.
November 2009
I talked to her for the first time tonight. She really likes me. She's not a mind-games girl.
How do you tll someone you think they're wonderful?
That you think you really like them back?
That you think about that almost constantly - that you wish they were sitting next to you right now.
That when you talked bout heartburn it was about them - her.
She's beautiful. I want her.
How do you tll someone you think they're wonderful?
That you think you really like them back?
That you think about that almost constantly - that you wish they were sitting next to you right now.
That when you talked bout heartburn it was about them - her.
She's beautiful. I want her.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Encounters of the Adorably Awkward Kind
(Two months ago, I wrote this as a fictional introductory piece for a creative writing course. Ultimately I concluded that I hated it, & ended up submitting a poem instead. Now that I come back to it, & am no longer interested in the person I wrote it about, it actually seems kinda cute, & only a little bit crap.)
“Um… So, tell me about yourself!” he chirped, a little too cheerfully. “I mean, I know you do improv, obviously, but… what else do you do?”
I giggled nervously and readjusted myself in my seat. “I play music. Guitar, piano, ukulele, singing, writing my own songs… And I like to hula hoop, and write…”
“Do you write about me?” he asked, and suddenly my body filled with guilt as I realized it was a serious question.
I sipped my latte to stall for time. “I write about everyone in my life. It’s not a big deal. I don’t write anything bad about you. I mean, obviously I think you’re pretty great, so…” Another unattractive nervous laugh. This was not going well. “Uh, you tell me about yourself now!” Smooth.
He looked so cute. It was extremely difficult to listen because I was too busy staring. I nodded periodically to make sure he felt I was keeping up, but mostly I was thinking back to the terror I’d experienced when, a week before, I’d finally gathered the courage to march up to him and ask him if he’d maybe, um, I dunno, like to get, like, a coffee or something sometime, or whatever. And he’d said yes. Simple, like it was nothing. And here we were.
“That’s so interesting. You’re so interesting,” I replied enthusiastically. I meant it, even though I hadn’t heard a word. I mean, there’s a reason I asked him out, other than his obvious physical charms.
He took a big bite out of his espresso-flavoured brownie and I glanced surreptitiously at the clock. A few long seconds ticked by.
“So… Are you my girlfriend now?”
My stomach pretty much fell to the bottom of my abdominal cavity. I swallowed. “Uh. Do you want me to be?”
Just as he went to speak, more words poured unstoppably out of my mouth: “Because I’d be into that. But only if you are. I mean, I know we’re both super busy. So I don’t know if it’s for sure the best idea. Even though I want to. I guess. Do you?”
“Yes.”
And just like that, my lungs filled up with happy and my blood was pumping happy and my pores were dripping happy. It hurt to breathe and all I could do was smile, and then I started to laugh, and then so did he, and it was, hands down, the best date I’ve ever been on.
“Um… So, tell me about yourself!” he chirped, a little too cheerfully. “I mean, I know you do improv, obviously, but… what else do you do?”
I giggled nervously and readjusted myself in my seat. “I play music. Guitar, piano, ukulele, singing, writing my own songs… And I like to hula hoop, and write…”
“Do you write about me?” he asked, and suddenly my body filled with guilt as I realized it was a serious question.
I sipped my latte to stall for time. “I write about everyone in my life. It’s not a big deal. I don’t write anything bad about you. I mean, obviously I think you’re pretty great, so…” Another unattractive nervous laugh. This was not going well. “Uh, you tell me about yourself now!” Smooth.
He looked so cute. It was extremely difficult to listen because I was too busy staring. I nodded periodically to make sure he felt I was keeping up, but mostly I was thinking back to the terror I’d experienced when, a week before, I’d finally gathered the courage to march up to him and ask him if he’d maybe, um, I dunno, like to get, like, a coffee or something sometime, or whatever. And he’d said yes. Simple, like it was nothing. And here we were.
“That’s so interesting. You’re so interesting,” I replied enthusiastically. I meant it, even though I hadn’t heard a word. I mean, there’s a reason I asked him out, other than his obvious physical charms.
He took a big bite out of his espresso-flavoured brownie and I glanced surreptitiously at the clock. A few long seconds ticked by.
“So… Are you my girlfriend now?”
My stomach pretty much fell to the bottom of my abdominal cavity. I swallowed. “Uh. Do you want me to be?”
Just as he went to speak, more words poured unstoppably out of my mouth: “Because I’d be into that. But only if you are. I mean, I know we’re both super busy. So I don’t know if it’s for sure the best idea. Even though I want to. I guess. Do you?”
“Yes.”
And just like that, my lungs filled up with happy and my blood was pumping happy and my pores were dripping happy. It hurt to breathe and all I could do was smile, and then I started to laugh, and then so did he, and it was, hands down, the best date I’ve ever been on.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
three little poems about the same person
1. disorienting
oh funny freak i find you sooooo
disorienting & you don't even know it.
that eye contact you thought was
nothing? it was so much. those few
words you thought were empty? they were
overflowing with meaning - for me.
mid-conversation i spot you peripherally
& i'm gone. my sentence ends whether it was
finished or not. that's your effect on me.
i hope you know. i hope you never know.
i hope you feel it too even if i
know you don't. i hope you
feel it too. i hope. i
feel.
2. something terribly interesting
you walk by
& i
pretend to do
something terribly interesting
so you won't know
that what really interests me
is (of course) you
3. haircuts help my heart to heal
(so far) every time someone
has bruised, broken or betrayed
my little heart, i've spent a day & a night
swaddled in bedsheets & dripping in tears,
& the next time i saw
the criminal in question,
they'd changed their hair
(colors, cuts - why?)
& it looked so different
it was hard to imagine
they were the same
person i'd been so
affixed on
for so damn long.
oh funny freak i find you sooooo
disorienting & you don't even know it.
that eye contact you thought was
nothing? it was so much. those few
words you thought were empty? they were
overflowing with meaning - for me.
mid-conversation i spot you peripherally
& i'm gone. my sentence ends whether it was
finished or not. that's your effect on me.
i hope you know. i hope you never know.
i hope you feel it too even if i
know you don't. i hope you
feel it too. i hope. i
feel.
2. something terribly interesting
you walk by
& i
pretend to do
something terribly interesting
so you won't know
that what really interests me
is (of course) you
3. haircuts help my heart to heal
(so far) every time someone
has bruised, broken or betrayed
my little heart, i've spent a day & a night
swaddled in bedsheets & dripping in tears,
& the next time i saw
the criminal in question,
they'd changed their hair
(colors, cuts - why?)
& it looked so different
it was hard to imagine
they were the same
person i'd been so
affixed on
for so damn long.
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