Just a reminder...

No matter what these idiots shout at funerals...

No matter how anyone may have misinterpreted the words of the bible...

No matter what anyone writes on their hate-filled & madness-driven picket signs...

Please, please know that you are loved. If God exists, then God loves you. In your heart of hearts, you know that anything else would be unfathomable. Why, WHY would any creator create all this, if not out of unconditional, rapturous love?

Feel the love. It's there for you. It's everywhere for you. I promise.

a dream

I dreamed I was working at a café/bookstore, as were mom & dad. _____ came to visit me as I was closing up for the evening. We were casually talking, & as I was reading things on the bulletin board, she wrapped her arms around me from behind & very sensually kissed my shoulderblade. We proceeded to physically flirt all the way to the park, where they were holding a grotesque, humongous pig-eating contest. I said hi to Charlotte, & told her I liked her suit, which was striped white & pale orange. Zoe was there, flirting with a boy named Charlie. ______ & I held hands as we walked over to see Kaiya & Olga, but I woke up before we got there.

I miss that goddamn nuisance.

WARNING: This post contains information about menstruation (GASP!), so if you are not into that, leave now, rather than writing me rude comments later. Thanks.

I have an ovarian cyst.
This means I only have about six periods each year, on average.
Right now it's June & I haven't had one since February.

For me, there is a certain amount of shame associated with telling other girls & women about this - not because I'm embarrassed about my physical condition, but because their immediate reaction is almost always, "You haven't had a period in ____ months? You're so lucky!!"

Here are three reasons my ovarian cyst does not, in fact, make me "lucky":

1. At any moment, it could be twisting around my ovary on the slow path to an explosive medical mishap that would land me a spot in the emergency room. The only way to monitor the cyst is to do these incredibly aggravating pelvic ultrasounds every once in a while. Let me tell you, one pelvic ultrasound is one too many.

2. When I do menstruate, it tends to be heavy (2 or 3 DivaCups' worth each day), last a long time (my record is 14 days; the average is about 6), & be riddled with cramps & emotional imbalance.

3. When it's been a long time since I've bled, I actually start to miss it. I feel like I'm missing out on a key part of my femininity by menstruating so rarely. I feel disconnected from my pure, primal womanhood, like I'm not really a member of the club, not really a strong, beautiful, healthy, sexy woman. Not to mention, I love my DivaCup & it bums me out that I don't have even more opportunities to use it to do good for the environment & for my body!

So no, I'm not "lucky" just because I menstruate less often than you. Stop making me feel like a spoiled brat for having a legitimate medical problem. If you're determined to be jealous of me, I'm sure you can find better, less offensive reasons! ;P

commitmentphobes

fuck commitmentphobes.

you're not scared to touch me;
you're just scared to say you love me.
you're just slightly like my father
& you wonder why this bugs me?

it takes guts to say "i like you"
but i do it every day.
do you notice? 'course you notice!
it's just not a game you're brave enough to play.

i bought you flowers, tokens
of this irritating attraction
but you stared over my shoulder,
pumping your veins with liquid distraction.
probably on purpose,
to elicit my reaction.
you probably thought i'd leave,
but if you'd think for just a fraction
of a second, you would see
that this is not my kind of action.

fuck commitmentphobes
& your slippery slimy hands.
i never liked your stupid moustache.
never liked your emo bands.
fuck the way you're like an ostrich,
head submerged beneath the sand.
fuck the way you run away from all uncharted lands.

here's a newsflash, honey:
hard-to-get's not sexy.
no, it's not your face that's funny -
it's your distance that's perplexed me.

relationships are one plus one
plus sharing. talking. bonding. freeing.
when your gaze glazes over
i wish i knew what you were seeing.

i KNOW i'm great. i KNOW i'm hot.
i KNOW that's not the issue, lover.
it took a lot of pondering,
but the problem, i've discovered,
is that you are insecure.
you think a better life will tempt me.
so you drift away, more each day -
you think it's better to pre-empt me.

here's another newsflash:
i don't leave if i feel loved
& closeness makes me want to stay.
& if it's what you want to hear,
i'll say again what i say every day:
i really, truly like you, okay?!

no, maybe it's not okay.

'cause i deserve better
than someone who'll make me feel alone,
& i deserve so much better
than someone who refuses to think of me as home.
or someone who calls me too clingy
if i pick up a phone.
or someone who doesn't wanna hear who i am,
just wants to hear me moan.

fuck commitmentphobes.
fuck your whole species.
if this is your thesis,
then kindly release me.

i'm done trying to act like i'm "cool."
i've never wanted to be "cool."
i want to care, i want to fall open
but i can't with a lover who's romantically frozen.

you thought i'd leave you for someone better?
i'm leaving 'cause alone feels better than together.
i'd rather date myself - just me.
god knows i make better company.
's'that jealousy i hear? you jealous of me?
i guess you shoulda taken better care of me.

yeah, fuck you, commitmentphobe
for being so distant.
this boat is damn fine but you've gone & missed it.
this girl is damn fine but you ditched & you dissed it.
this story's the truth so don't try & twist it:
from the moment you saw this & wanted to kiss it,
we both needed risk but you're too chicken to risk it.

a messy manifesto of my romantic future

Romantic confessions. Letters sealed with kisses & spritzed with perfume. Heart-shaped jewelry.
Big bouquets of colorful flowers. Boys with glasses & tattoos. Midnight picnics. Sunny days.
Endless snuggles. Being the little spoon. Borrowing his clothes.
Big pink lips just ripe for the kissin'.
"I like you so much."
Virgo boys. Soft, touchable hair. Improv shows.
All-night-long phone conversations. Journals full of just one person. Declarations of love.
Fidelity. Trust. Honesty to the point of dorkiness.
Objects with sentimental value. Movie theatres. Coffee shops. Breakfast in bed. Purple hair. Labret piercings. Leather jackets. Fauxhawks. Bedhead. Big toothy grins.
Hands on hips. Hands on waists. Hands in my pockets. Holding hands.
Writing love songs. Streetcar rides. Leaning my head on his shoulder.
Truth or dare. Hickeys. Learning to please.
Introducing him to my family. Meeting his family.
Accidental discoveries of eccentric erogenous zones. Relentless giggling. Private-ish nooks.
Lingerie. Short fingernails. Crunchy tongues. Leather boots. Whirlwind romances.
Quirks. Board games. "You're my favorite."
Gross coupley photobooth strips. All-nighters. Dinner parties.
Androgyny. Acceptance. Nerding out. Adorably bad drawings. Getting dolled up. A duel of wits.
"I'm so in love with you."
Massages. Slow-dancing. Falling asleep in his arms. Warmth. Joy.

writer's block & comfort food

if you wanted to inspire
cataclysmic creation, the kind of which i know
i'm capable, you should've stuck it out
a little longer, let the love well up a little louder,
get a bit bigger & brighter before you
broke all the borders &
let it all loose.

the love was half-baked,
all creamy & goopy & not fully-formed,
not yet, then, now, ever.
premature evaporation:
the mortal enemy of all
angsty adolescent artists.

now there's nothing good to write or
paint or sing, just a flop & a mess
covering everything.

stay golden

if you don't wanna hurt me, then don't
if you don't wanna cheat, then stay faithful
if you'd rather avoid causing damage
then avoid it as best as you're able
stay golden

if you don't wanna bruise me, then stay away
but do it in your most affectionate way
stay golden

if you don't wanna make me pine for you
then tell me you'll always be mine like it's true
stay golden

imagine how different your life would be if you'd stayed
how different the lovers you always leave naked & splayed
go over the doubts, the what-ifs, & the weary if-only
& realize: if you destroy all your friends, you'll be lonely

if the apocalypse comes in a week
then you'll be left mumbling & meek
stay golden

& meet some new people but see
that they're not a replacement for me
stay golden

open your mind to the chance that you'll be changed
open your mind & let your silly self be rearranged
stop expecting love to make you feel small
you might even find you like it after all
stay golden

bye, kate

this is a story that isn't very
happy - on the 15th of january,
i went for coffee with my then-boyfriend
unaware it would soon come to an end

we talked & it was so ordinary
on that 15th of january
i cast away my slight distraction
the dead-dying-dead missing attraction

suddenly silence - my unhappy honey
said "you're so amazing - you're smart & you're funny
but you think i'm someone i really am not
i don't want to hurt you - i think we should stop"

i thought i would cry or scream or something
but i just sat & stared, feeling nothing
i guess i had known, i had known all along
i wish i cared more - it would make for better songs

he put on his coat & his scarf & his gloves
i was glad that i hadn't yet fallen in love
when there isn't much damage, there's not much to mend
he said "bye, kate" & that was the end

that was the end
we'll still be friends

my subconscious mind's worrisome antics

Since acquiring my First Official Boyfriend™...

December 21st
I dreamed about my booooyfriend, naturally. We were snuggling in bed & he began to discover that freakishly sensitive spot on the back of my left shoulder, kissing around until he hit it & I started to giggle & squirm.

December 22nd
Dreamed that Charlotte started to like Cadence & consequentially, Cadence & I had an extended debate about whether you can really "just start liking someone" after you've already known them for a while. My stance (which isn't actually true & I don't agree with in real life) was that you'll think someone is cute from the first meeting, & you'll always have a mini-crush on them, until you start to notice the "deeper details" & that makes it into a full-blown crush.

December 23rd
Dreamed about prom dress shopping. Wuh-oh. I really cannot tell at this point whether this relationship has tons of long-term potential or none at all, so it's hard (impossible) to imagine what June (prom month) will look like...

December 24th
Dream: he & I were in my room. We started to kiss, but he went through each step very methodically as per an ABCs WikiHow-esque protocol (Approach, Begin to move in, Closer, etc.).

December 26th
Had a dream wherein I was attacked by a bunch of men & then my former best friend saved the day by showing up & stabbing them all to death. Symbolic much? Sounds like I'm waiting for my ex-bestie to rescue me from the scary clutches of my boyfriend. (None of that is really true but I guess some of it might be, subconsciously.)

January 10th
I dreamed that we were making out & he suddenly said "I love you" & went on to say that he knows you're generally supposed to be together about three months before you say that, but his feelings were undeniable, etc. I did not respond in kind but I did tell him I was on the verge of falling & would be there soon (truth). At least I didn't say "thank you" like Ryan Atwood on The O.C.

January 13th
Ummm don't judge - I had a sex dream about my [subject omitted to protect the sexy innocent] teacher last night. That's so embarrassing & awesome.
I also had a dream that I had an old-fashioned, little-kid-style birthday party, to which Rejection-Boy shockingly showed up. His hair was gelled into a rockabilly pompadour & he looked goooood.
Odd that I had such romantic dreams & my boyf was nowhere to be seen... I still like him best though, don't you worry!

mushy haikus written in the library today

kissing your rose mouth
feels intimate, delicious,
like sharing cherries.

face buried against
my soft welcoming chest, you
feel exquisite now.

my left shoulderblade
is hypersensitive to
your evil kisses.

you can seduce me
into immoral hijinks
in your cramped office.

desk in the corner:
sometimes practical surface,
sometimes makeshift bed.

our eyes alight with
mocking humour, we cut each
other down again.

you know how to touch
to make me gasp or giggle
when i oughtn't. whoops.

soon, i will take you
to meet my grandparents. the
pressure's on us both.

since sunshine exploded

oh dear you near you clear you i
like you i want you i need you
it breaks you it makes you it
shakes you i teeter and tumble
you smile and you mumble and
nervousness takes you like kisses
can quake you and i can't control you
but i'm bound to know you and
you won't regret me the day that
you met me and planets will travel
right into the gravel and stars
cannot touch you and i will not rush you
and talking is coded since sunshine
exploded and you are my darling my
sweet chirping starling

time stretches like baby pink bubblegum

time stretches like baby pink bubblegum
between our aching mouths sore from
talking into kissing then connecting
in more ways than i (at first) knew how -

& your brown brown eyes search for signs
that some part of me is lying but
my body & my words, when faced with you,
can only tell the naked bright white truth.

exhaled against your lips a silent prayer
that you would never leave me, you'll stay tied,
confined, but nicely, sweetly, trapped by girlish wiles
& knowing no one has it better
than you & me as we
sink slowly at starbucks & streetfolk stare.

the lifeblood of this love-precursor lies in the
languid details, the way i'm weird & you're weirder
& we both think weird's kind of wow. 'cause normal people
are boring, you know it, i know it,
& i also know i'm never bored
by you.

a chronology of us so far

December 20th
So basically, I have the boyfriend I've been wanting for seven months... I don't even know how to express in writing how happy I am so I won't try. But I'm VERY happy.

December 21st
You know what's kind of great? He's a full fourteen inches taller than me, so I physically cannot kiss him unless I stand on something or he leans down. I like this - it's very chivalrous & old-worldly & lovely.

December 22nd
i. A common question these days: "So how is this going to affect your improv?" My usual answer: "I guess we'll find out, won't we!" We have an exhibition night coming up really soon so I hope our improv chemistry doesn't tank as a result of our real-life chemistry finally being acknowledged.

ii. Based on my Date Evaluation System which I half-jokingly devised in July (whose point system, due to lack of organization, ranges from -62 to +97), our first date gets a score of +69, which is (so say the numbers) the best date I've ever been on. I actually laughed out loud while doing the evaluation because some of the criteria fit so perfectly - e.g. +6 if they reveal an intimate secret about themself (neither of us can go an hour without revealing our intimate secrets); +5 if we hold hands or link arms (or both) with an additional +5 if it's initiated by them; +8 if they say some variation of "I really like you" (or, you know, those exact words!).

December 23rd
A part of me keeps feeling like this is somehow wrong... but it's probably just nerves over the whole "first boyfriend" thing, which is all so new & foreign - except for those moments where we're fitting together & we're laughing & it feels like it's been this way forever, like we've been going out for months & months already, are established, are gorgeously comfortable & lovey-dovey (oh I do hate that word, but it works here). I'm definitely still figuring all this out & it's going to take some time for me to fully trust, accept, & forgive him. But right now the thought of him makes me feel swoony about 58% of the time which is more than can be said of almost anyone else in the world.

December 24th
Every time my hands get cold, I think of him.

December 27th
Very interesting fact: both of his parents are Taureans so he knows aaall about the kind of strength, stubbornness, vivacity, & intensity he can expect from me.

December 28th
At one point we were at a busy intersection, & Kathleen said in her responsible-teacher voice, "Everyone hold hands with a buddy!" He said "I've got my buddy!" & indicated our intertwined hands.

December 29th
Hey, Kate? Remember, always, because I know you tend to forget: he likes you, he wants to touch you, he calls you every night, he grabs for your hand, he holds you, he buries his face in your hair, he thinks you're cute & pretty & amazing, HE asked YOU out, he cares about you, he wants to spend time with you... Never doubt these things, even though you're prone to, because they are true. Unequivocally & objectively.

December 30th
Uh, so, yeah, basically I have the best boyfriend ever (clingy & romantic, yet masculine? nerdy & smart, yet down-to-earth? WHAT?!) & I am starting to feel like I could fall in love with him very quickly very soon, though I don't really have the slightest clue what that is supposed to feel like.

December 31st
"Stop that, it's making my skin crawl!"
"If your skin were literally crawling, there would be [green alien blood?] under it, which would have a potent smell..." (geeky tangent about crawly skin as per sci-fi logic)
(sarcastically) "You're making me feel sooo beautiful & attractive..."
"No, I was saying you DON'T have that [green alien blood or whatever], so actually you ARE!"
"Oh. Okay. Glad you think so."

January 1st
Oh, hello, 2010! I have someone to share you with! That is kind of really ridiculously awesome. Wow. Here we go.

This ain't no credit card commercial

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.

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.

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.

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.

sometimes i am ugly

sometimes i have dreams where
my teeth are crooked & my
skin crumples like old paper & my eyes
sink into my skull &
i am as ugly as you
make me feel;

sometimes i shuffle around the house
in old sweaters & sagging pants
& i can't remember that i could ever have been
a blushing beauty queen
in pink & green taffeta ruffles;

sometimes i see you walking by
eyes apprising a prettier girl than i
with her thin arms & flat belly &
simple, nonconfrontational curvature
so boring but i can tell you
are loving it;

sometimes i sit by the window
away from the mirror
& pretend all the birds & swaying trees
are my face, my hips
my smile...

Things to be grateful for

(I make a gratitude list at the end of every day. Here are some of my favorite items from the lists made over the past two months.)

insane, stomach-scrambling, hopeful nervousness

allowing myself to experience pure untainted joy

pretty gay boys who awkwardly compliment me

excessively physical improv games

eye contact from across the room (or closer)

waking up slowly, gradually, & lazily with the help of music & sunlight

Dustin Hoffman

having a clean creative space

men who roll up the sleeves of their formal shirts

playing chess with my best friend in her hippietastic living room while blasting Fleet Foxes

elaborate kissing fantasies

meditating on the roof

singing in the shower

moving forward

Sex Matters by Osho, which is fascinating

optimism springing eternal

cashmere sweaters

waiting at bus stops in brisk, early autumn weather

the phrase "go steady with me"

feeling like a part of a whole

the realization that more enthusiasm is always better

people who don't know that their hair is sticking up

making funny people laugh

giving people silly nicknames (e.g. "Sexy Irish Boy")

noticing that cute people are watching me

prattling on about The Boy to anyone who'll listen

improv improv improv improv forever

independent pizzerias

silently sitting really really close

big toothy childish grins

intellectual debates on the subway

laughing so hard I start to cry & can't breathe

the all-consuming bliss of unity

people who say, "Tell me everything"

chocolate peanut butter ice cream

unabashed vulva worship

the ways in which we all inspire one another

moments where I realize that something I previously considered a hindrance is now a blessing

nervous laughter

walking home in the dark holding a teddy bear

when other people's happiness rubs off on me

smelling so awesome I make myself swoon a little

pizza

freaky universal serendipity

whimsical typography

channeling nervous energy into something great

if sex were as simple...

if sex were as simple
as seeking & finding & fucking
& leaving & living & dying
then life would be less
& i wouldn't worry
or wonder what might have been.

but it's not that simple:
it's yearning & wanting & crying
& finding & losing & lying
& hoping & begging & wishing
& fucking & touching & kissing
& losing & hurting & meeting
& stabbing & yelling & cheating
& all this expected, protected
by standards so solid that no one remembers
what love & sex mean
when they're all by themselves
with no hectic pressure -
just primitive pleasure.

so seeking & finding & fucking
& leaving & living & dying
is honest, is simple, is better
than making these messes together.