Monday, December 31, 2012

everything old is new again...

new year's eve...a little over a week into official winterland and i am trying to resist the urge to hibernate...i imagine that if i locked myself away...with pen, paper, laptop and coffee brewing...that suddenly my eastern european roots...those of the suffering russian stock...would run through my veins...out my fingertips and i would be the next tolstoy or maybe pasternak...but this has not come to pass...mostly i would eat and get fat...because the russian stock would send me in search of bread...i would dream of lush pumpernickels and such...as 2012 closes i promise not to beat myself up so much...the stack of poetry rejections will not define who i am as a writer...certainly not as a person...maybe there will be a few unspoken resolutions..ones i know i may partially keep...such is human nature...as i catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window i wonder what i would look like...a russian writer 100 years ago...getting it all on paper while revolution swept like a blizzard around me...well, maybe the moment hasn't arrived for my inner-tolstoy...but i bet i'd rock one of those big russian hats...lara and anna karenina would have nothing on me...wishing you peace in 2013....

Friday, December 21, 2012

Death, be not proud...

as i sit and write, it would seem those mayans were wrong...or were they?...it has been a week of death, so to speak...an unfathomable tragedy at sandy hook elementary...which left those of us with no direct connection to the victims with a punch to the stomach and a catch in our throat...not with the personal task of a burial, a wake, a shiva...but then this week death started creeping from the perimeter...a lovely woman i have had the fortune of knowing from my writer's group lost her husband of many years to alzheimer's...i embraced her at shiva and saw her loss, her pain, and relief as well...her wish for his peace was answered, but what of her peace?...and then a funeral for a cousin, whom i had known so well as a boy, so much less as a man...a contemporary, born five weeks apart...sitting at his service and thinking about loss...what does it mean?...the eulogy and accounting of his life muffled by my memories of so long ago...the ones we try to grasp before they too are buried...memories of unspoken dreams of youth and sometimes in the pure bliss of having lived for the moment...i promised as i was handed the shovel graveside, battling a cold december wind, that death would never wrestle my memories...when it is my turn my soul will fly intact...floating with the unsung songs of all who went before me...

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

the root of the matter...

tuesday...the sun makes a return...i should be sitting at a large rectangular table at the old church in huntington...listening to stories, essays, prose, poetry and all in between...all delicious...served up by my fellow writers at the women's center...instead...i am seated in a dentist's chair...root canal...i am told the presentation of the roots, canals, etc. are unusual...rare...and i am laughing on the inside thinking what a waste...the unusual and rare in the base of some forlorn molar and not my head...the tooth is stubborn and i need many shots...i will probably drool till at least new year's...but i am not worried...even with hopes of being in the city a few times for the season i know that this look will allow me to blend in with the masses...really, does anyone flinch when they hear horror after horror...subway pushings, shootings in broad daylight...even lady liberty must want to put down that book and puke these days when she gets a gander at these masses...yearning to breathe!...yes, i'll move my lips with purpose editing my latest poem...drooling...smiling on the inside when the row of subway seats is given in haste to this mad poet...

Sunday, December 2, 2012

We are such stuff as dreams are made on...

sleep...the curse of mid-life...we either get too little...or too much at the wrong times...or more precisely, find it easier to sleep at any time other than night...on a train (past your stop)...during a play...a movie...a sermon...through the last crucial 5 minutes of your favorite tv show...sometimes the very act of sleep becomes...well...tiring...because of dreams that leave you anything but rested...lately i have had vivid dreams...and i am the goddess of all creative in them...i create an amazing campaign slogan for a product...footnote...i am neither a copywriter or marketing exec...i am taking curtain calls while being showered in bouquets...ironic as i have not been involved in theater since freshman year of college...yet, when i sit to write...there is nothing...when did i slip into this parallel universe?...where are the poems?...and as i wait for creative divine intervention...you will have to forgive the kvetching stream of consciousness (or unconsciousness) of this blogger...sweet dreams...

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Thanks for the memories...

turkey day 2012...without halloween this year, i find it hard to believe thanksgiving is here...i was in line at fairway a few days ago...lost in thought at check-out...and there they were...so close...the foil-wrapped chocolate turkeys...i was sure that if i gave into temptation and bought one or two with the intention of giving them away...that this would never happen...i would inhale them before i hit the first traffic light...but they did remind me of childhood thanksgivings...i seem to remember the day was always cold and i was in feetie pj's in front of the tv...watching the parade...the aroma spilling out of the kitchen, warm and soothing...excited that my family would be there in a few short hours...a large hug from my aunt sharyn as she happily put a foil-wrapped chocolate turkey in my small hands...the smile plastered on my face knowing chanukah was just around the corner...this year as thanksgiving arrives, with chanukah and christmas closing in, i feel somewhat guilty...we have been blessed in being spared the wrath of hurricane sandy...this is such a difficult time for so many...it is only right that we offer some prayer, however we believe, tomorrow for those who need it and so much more...and yes, this year, i am truly thankful...but i may have to hit fairway...the chocolate turkey is calling...

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

love in the time of cholera....

love in the time of cholera...i am looking at my copy of the book...a little beat-up looking...we are using this and many soft-covered books to block the sun from beating in through the small "upper windows" in our living room...until our blinds are put in...i am getting used to the look...all those wonderful books giving the collective finger to the new technology..but that, as they say, is another post...the title has me thinking...it certainly is catchier than "love in the time of vitriol"...which seems to be the subtext of life these days...and i am blue today..not because my candidate won, or lost...but because of the diviseness in our country...because it has become so easy in our society to point fingers at everyone...but ourselves...because everyone is the cause...and so few want to really be the solution...because i should have felt something one way or the other when the dye was cast, so to speak...and i did not...because really the only thing i see when i close my eyes is not red, white or blue...it is the grey of ruins...so much of the staten island i knew...and the happiest memories of youth...sundays at seaside...floating out in a violent ocean...i still reach for that optimism at crossroads...still try to reach across the breach of despair...love in the time of cholera...

Thursday, October 25, 2012

elegy

i sat down several times to write an elegy...for the passing of my dear friend, june...but the words won't come...maybe it's impossible to write mournfully of someone so electric...so honest...so dear...our first meeting well over a decade ago...tennis lessons at a public tennis court in huntington...maybe laughing more than hitting...a fast friendship...then moving our tennis talents (apparent mostly to us) to inside courts and lessons...discovering that with her forehand and my backhand we made one great tennis threat...thursday happy hours...saturday morning breakfast marathons at panera...dinners in town, sometimes with mike and jim...sometimes with other friends...always her magnetic smile...she knew me at my best...my worst...and all in between...watching our kids grow into wonderful young adults...in my life there have been less than a handful of people who have for no reason, shortened my name and called me "sher" (really, almost sounding like "sheh")...first, my brother...given what else he could have called me, it was a term of endearment...then a boss many years later...which first startled me, and then i hardly noticed...and then, june...when she said it i couldn't help but smile...to this moment i can't tell you which of us was "thelma" or "louise"..."lucy" or "ethel"...but i can tell you one was never really whole without the other...i only know that next time a bartender asks, "what'll it be"...it'll be june whispering to the bartender, "hey, this is my friend, sher"..and i"ll smile...

Sunday, October 7, 2012

red, white...and blue....

it is fall...and a presidential election year...a political fall...pun intended...they debate...we debate on winners and losers...generally, we are the losers...change is slow, and impatience quick...because this is the most important race...since the last one...and others before...gas prices rise...interest rates are in the toilet...need i go on?...this blog is not a pro or con...it is not red state or blue state...although thinking about it gets me blue...i often look at the process bottom up, not top down...i try to pay attention to who is elected locally, then state...so much of my quality of life, or lack there of, depends on this...many are well-intentioned...and get swallowed up...some toil quietly, unrecognized for their efforts...so, when the results are in this november...and half of you want to run for the border...maybe run instead to a school board meeting... or town hall meeting...speak up, and speak up loudly...it is your right and responsibility...i hope to feel this way again...i hope to feel less mute in the political cesspool...i hope when i speak...someone listens...then maybe i will feel less red, white...and...blue

Friday, September 28, 2012

she stoops to conquer

and so now it is almost two weeks since we moved into our new condo...it is called an apartment suite...and it is spacious enough for the four of us...i do count donut, our cat, in the total, since if you know cats, he has established spreading and shedding rights in every room, nook and corner...but...we lived in a large center-hall colonial with a large unfinished basement ripe for throwing stuff...all the stuff you think you need...and so packing for storage when we had to, rather quickly, move to our rental was painful...we had months while the house was on the market to prep...and some of us did (me)...you get the picture...during the last panic days in the house...when closing was moved up a week just to definitively test the value of my blood pressure meds...we started that act of random throwing into boxes...generically labeling them...so when the storage company came, and we looked at such boxes, we had no idea what the fuck was in them...and so now as we unpack and try to put it all away...excuse me... i need to scream a loud silent scream and curse at the boxes...we are getting there...it also became fall somewhere in this mess and i suppose we will suddenly wake up one morning soon looking for jackets, socks and shoes...for my jewish followers, did you really expect anything less than the humid disgusting weather that was yom kippur?...i love fall but i get that sick feeling underneath it for what comes next...winter...i do take some solace that moving has removed the sheer terror that was my driveway during icy snowstorms when i could have invited olympic hopefuls to try their luge runs on that driveway...i try the optimistic approach...a new season..hoping it loosens the writers' block that's held me all summer (poetry)...so when leaves fall at my feet in a few weeks i can bend, let one slip through my fingers, smiling a box-free smile....

Friday, September 14, 2012

what's so funny 'bout peace love and understanding

hey, if you're gonna steal a song title, steal from the best? right...so here we are...september...squeezing the last days of summer and frowning at fading tan lines...and I am in moving hell...again...the last phase of our saga...from the rental on one side of the condo complex...to our new apartment on the other...sounds easy, right?...i keep muttering to myself...where did all this shit come from???...after all the donations, tossing, selling and packing in april...i thought i was ahead of the game...my daily list of appointments and calls makes me nauseous...the fact that i am not writing has me concerned...but there is a bright spot...i am too busy or exhausted to really see all the news...which is a very good thing...because the news leaves an empty spot somewhere inside...and i imagine it is the same for anyone reading this...it angers and saddens me that hatred hides behind claims of piety...the world is burning on the heels of the anniversary of 9/11...in advance of the holiest of days for jews around the globe...and i suspect far from coincidental...sometimes i feel 9/11 and the aftermath left me numb and unable to really feel fear...every bombing, assassination, heinous act...leaves a feeling of hollow resignation...i am the hostage...my mouth taped so i cannot scream...limbs tied so i cannot run...and so i turn the tv off...head to another box...and dive...way back to the past...wishing all who celebrate a very peaceful rosh hashanah...and even those who don't...may you and yours be wrapped in peace and love...

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

see you in september

ah, september...a month that evokes such strong memories...the earliest, of course, school days...the excitement of new clothes, which you insist on wearing even if it is 90 degrees...a lunchbox with your favorite tv character smiling from both sides...mix the aroma of new crayola with the pungent smell of freshly sharpened pencils and vinyl and you are back walking into the new classroom that first day again...flash forward to college...when august ushers the new and september finds you buried under the weight of heavy reading and term papers...maybe typed on an old smith corona with white-out at your side...on top of that old webster's....and then a few years later...september, just another month in a work year, maybe marked by your fading tan line and one last outdoor happy hour...then the married september...the jewish edition..."where are we breaking fast?" "what should i bring?" "is it too warm for a wool suit??"...blink, and you are shopping for your children...calming nervous tummies and fainting at the register total, class supply list in hand...and now september....when in a few weeks i will hopefully move from our rental into our new condo...my "to do" list longer than santa's...the thought of the 50+ boxes in storage making me want to run...run backwards..."i dream of jeannie" lunchbox in hand...skipping the streets of canarsie...first day...new beginnings...

Monday, August 13, 2012

rachel getting married

last night after watching the olympics closing ceremony...and btw...couldn't katy perry make one of the conditions of her divorce be that russell brand can never open his mouth again?...i flipped through the evening news...all newscasts had the same news...never good...with the same teaser and highlight...my head perked up...maybe the upcoming finale of the ceremony would have the stones and zeppelin...you know...those lesser british musical icons...but no...lo, and behold...jennifer aniston is getting married...again...and in case we've been brain dead for the better part of the last decade...she's beating her ex...you know, that guy...oh, yeah...brad pitt...to the alter...or so she thinks...because we all know when that ground-breaking news broke angelina was kicking his ass out of bed and speed-dialing rent-a-minister...somewhere aniston's agent is kvelling...realizing that this news makes us get misty-eyed and we'll forget that her post-"friends" career, although not a box-office nightmare, has...for the most part...except for a small gem, "the good girl"...been a critical nightmare...but for now, she can focus on the wedding...maybe leave the one-star reviews to kate hudson...but jennifer should watch out for the thud at the front door...that would be angelina tossing the kids out of the car as she bolts for the wedding chapel with brad...

Thursday, August 2, 2012

lead us not into penn station....

it is lunchtime on a wednesday....i am in penn station and it is a leper colony....i suppose you could break it down like this...grand central has that architecture, nice restaurants and well-suited commuters...port authority has cleverly pushed the masses upwards on platforms away from the naked eye...but penn, and particularly the lirr side...it's all out there...and noontime, summertime...a double-treat...the tourists, wandering around aimlessly toting 1000 lbs of ugly luggage, swaying side to side, maximizing full tripping potential...the stroller brigade with toddlers lagging behind..in flip flops...walk behind them on the stairs and there is one hour you will never get back in your lifetime...but i have figured out a way to lose weight!...just inhale the aroma wafting from the far corners...what is that?...dior, chanel...no, it is a '70's staple of the city...eau de piss #5...i made this trip yesterday for two reasons...very different...the first, a follow-up with the neurosurgeon who removed a benign tumor from my skull 7 years ago leaving me a little shaken and resembling something like hellraiser with my "55-staples" hairline...this time he smiled and said we were done...no more follow-ups...i was within two blocks of the time warner center and some pretty nice watering holes where i could have toasted this news...i opted for the little coffee shop around the corner where i had stopped so many times over the years before and after appointments...it seemed more fitting...and started this blog...several hours, and rain showers later...it was the beacon theater for a night with the "dukes of september"...that is michael mcdonald, donald fagan and boz scaggs....from the balcony...when they came on stage it looked something like jerry garcia's straight-haired brother, martin scorsese, and neil diamond...but while donald and michael strained a bit, there was boz...senior of the three...blowing away the audience....especially with "lowdown"...and there we were in the '70's...in the city...gritty, but never sweeter

Sunday, July 29, 2012

show me yours, i'll show you mine

somewhere in a parallel universe, social media, particularly facebook, is a happy place where we reconnect with those we knew well, distant family....you get it...but in the real social media world everyone is a political expert, poised and ready for their fifteen minutes...and it evolves, or disintegrates (you choose) from there....i try to be tolerant, even read along...but it is hard...sometimes i shake my head and  admit that i learned all i needed to know about politics when i ran for student goverment in high school...i lost, but found out after that all the winners were alphabetically first on the ballot....i was an "L"...i never really needed to put up a poster...third on the ballot, third in results...if you think we as a nation are more evolved...well, it is a fact that weather is a large determining factor in turnout and votes...sad to think that my four grandparents left the anti-semitic cesspool that was eastern europe in the early 20th century for rights that we leave to the rain...i'll tell you what...you can put your opinions on facebook, or twitter, or whatever...as long as you realize they are just that...your opinions...and they may be so polar opposite mine that your skin crawls...just don't leave enough space for me to read between the lines and see intolerance, and hatred...then i just will have to hit delete...and if you really love the american dream...then walk the walk...in november, and every november...help someone get to the poll and take part in the dream...just don't pull the lever for them...

Monday, July 16, 2012

prose and cons

i am back from the southampton writers conference..kind of like summer camp for writers...first...i was a wreck heading out there...this was definitely a push out of my comfort zone...both physically and mentally...physically: living in a dorm if you were born let's say before '85...not so much fun...four months since my left-knee arthroscopy...three months after schlepping morning, noon and night when we moved...and there i was schlepping again...clothes, bedding, enough crap for a month to the dorm room...and white cinder block walls, the drone of the a/c and an industrial mattress do not a good nights sleep make...the communal bathrooms...do i have to say anything?...my personal favorite moment was when the lights went out in the bathroom while i was in the real luxurious shower stall...daisy shaver in hand, of course...realizing that deciding to do this at 3 in the afternoon, none of my suitemates in a screaming distance, was not the smartest move...luckily this lasted about one minute...no tv...i know, i know...i was there to write...but fuck, i was a tv major in college...i need a dose at least once a day....mentally: reading your work, allowing the criticism of peers...then rethinking the wheel and starting again...once my stomach stopped flip-flopping as i read and listened it was kind of freeing...my "classmates"...let's just say there are a lot of talented writers out there...but this wonderful group...these poets left it all on the page and then some...mary karr, our "teacher"...the original badass...the high-five from her after reading my revision that last day...pretty good...dining under tents in the southampton sun...people from all walks of life, from all around the globe, all born with a pen in hand, a need to create...and then enjoying the local scene...playing hookey at cooper beach...saturday night drinks at a semi-dive bar that looked like it doubled for the bar in "perfect storm"... the local bar flies trying to buy a round for me and my friend...then feeling the need to comment on our "breasts" on the way out...we laughed, but probably both took that writers' mental note...great line...and great time

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Write Stuff

an interesting conversation sprouted at my last writers' group meeting...we were discussing a piece someone wrote...a very pungent essay that talked about the virtues of princesses versus queens...first in fairy tales via disney...and in media...you know the drill...princesses admired for their beauty, and subservience...queens portrayed as horrible bitches mostly for any hint at assertiveness or power...and we talked about the old catch-22...what happens in society when princesses grow up...then, being a writers' group, we moved on to talk about women writers...and the way women conceal identity to reach a bigger audience (j.k. rowling, anyone?)...and i started to get depressed...and i get more depressed since i know a lot of women out there will tell me to look at e.l. james and the incredible success of "fifty shades of grey"..(please note the e.l.)...and then i have to watch local news shows cashing in on the pseudo-erotica cash cow that is "fifty shades"...segments featuring women's book clubs gushing over the trilogy...because it's never been done, you know...to which i say...erica jong anyone?.."fear of flying" was clever erotica for an evolving, savvy group of women...encouraging women to go for what they wanted...you know...queens...not giggling princesses...

Monday, June 25, 2012

Mom's the word...

today's rant is actually not a rant...more of a reflection, and i hope you forgive if this gets too sugary...tomorrow lauren...my one and only...turns 21...i will spare you the "gee how did that happen?"...or "but i still feel 21!"...which i don't feel or look thanks to my being distracted these weeks, forgetting to see my colorist...creating a root crisis of epic grey proportion..i am feeling my candles these days..but this afternoon, as the hours lunge forward i remember those hours 21 years ago quite vividly, and the cavalcade of "mom" memories flash every time i close my eyes...every achievement, every disappointment, every "boo-boo", every giggle...all the minutes I wasted second-guessing my parenting skills...and in doing that almost missed the sheer joy...then forgetting to breathe since being a mom is much like being on a treadmill...one that never stops...but luckily we do stop it once in a while...catch our breath and then marvel at our handiwork...when i held all 6 pounds 12 ounces of her all those years ago, i wonder if i grasped what a miracle motherhood would be...and all the places we would go...

Monday, June 18, 2012

Martha, my dear....

Ah...sir paul turns 70 today...if i close my eyes i am a wide-eyed (and much blonder) 5-year-old clutching a beatles album....the requisite crush on paul (it wouldn't occur to me until i was older that john was the "hotter" beatle...but i digress)...when he married for the third time, this time to a jewish long island woman my age, i had to think...damn, so close....but although paul's songs dance in my head today, that is not why today's blog is titled "martha, my dear"...it is more than 6 weeks since we moved into our rental, as our new condo gets closer to completion...the building we are in is one of the first completed in the development and only offers cablevision...and so after so many years since my "divorce" with cablevision (our irreconcilable differences caused by their use of the term "customer service" - truly an oxymoron) we are reunited...we have a spanking new phone number, which we can take with us to our new place in a few weeks...and that is where martha appears....we all know phone numbers are recycled...for all the issues you can have with verizon, for my 50+ years this was a non-issue...oh, cablevision...maybe you should stick with one utility to screw up....it would seem my new number was "recycled" too soon...and so we get calls for martha...from colleges....from many people who i cannot understand as they are insisting martha is here...in spanish...to which my years of french do not help...i know you will tell me there are block lists, etc...and i have explored many options...which become complicated when so many of martha's ardent admirers are "private callers"... so now i figure, if it's quiet, and not an ungodly hour of the morning or night...maybe i should chat along...discover the power of this martha...after all, the love you take is equal to the love you make....

Monday, June 11, 2012

the unbearable lightness of monday

it always seems to go this way...i read a book, poem, or essay that blows me away and then feel muted as a writer in its path...the past two weeks were the perfect yin and yang of being a writer...accepted into a workshop, rejected for publication...but back to the workshop...next month i will be attending a poetry workshop at the southampton writers' conference...and the writer leading the pack will be mary karr...although i have read so much about her, and some of her poetry online, i hate to admit, i never read any of her memoirs...and so i went to our new library, got my card and got going...backwards, as i started with "lit", her latest....i could not put it down, and i find myself thinking about so much of it, so often...so, of course, i start thinking about my poems...my work...and then, of course, i think about the peanut m&m's in the cabinet...the new bag i bought to replace the old one i almost decimated last week as i struggled to write something more than a grocery list...the one in my basket at target this morning when my cell phone rang...a call from the conference coordinator happy to answer my dimwit questions...but i can't hear him because every aisle is bursting with the cries of rugrats..."i want this, i want this, i want this"...as i find a quiet corner, i chirp happily into the phone, as my inner voice yells, "hey, kid, i want this too"...and you're not getting my m&ms...

Sunday, June 3, 2012

not lost in translation

today mike and i spent the afternoon with my friend, sabine, and her husband, frederic...sabine and i became penpals in 7th grade....i would write to her from staten island in french, pouring through my small english-french dictionary and notes from miss larsen's french class-she would write to me in english from lille...and so it went until somewhere around the time we hit 30, and lost each other in the lack of a forwarding address, or some other crime of the snail-mail era...until 2 1/2 years ago when sabine found me on facebook...and so we brought this extraordinary friendship into the 21st century...and then we finally met, after 38 years, when mike took me to paris for my 50th birthday celebration....it was an incredible day at versailles...a memory i will carry with me forever..and now today, sabine and frederic are in new york, and we are taking them to the 911 memorial...through back and forth emails they have decided that they want to visit the memorial this trip and it would mean more to be with us...and here the four of us are, winding through security lines and finally at the site itself....mike-no french, me-butchering french, sabine and frederic-both with very good english...for quite a while words are not needed, and then all is understood...and after our visit, and a subway trip dodging thunderstorms, we have a wonderful dinner, enjoying each other's company as if we do this all the time, and i think that the simple joy of friendship is never lost in translation....

Monday, May 21, 2012

Highway to hell....

or should i say "parkway" to hell....the belt parkway....an appropriate name, because if you travel enough times on this road you may want to take your belt and wrap it around your neck...and it seems to be the road i can never leave...from my early childhood in canarsie, youth through early-twenties in staten island...and now so many years later from long island to new jersey to see my mom....it is the road that comes to a grinding stop for no apparent reason, compounded by drivers with skills rivaling annie hall, and further frustrated by a construction project between exits 13 and 11 that has no ending in sight....i do sometimes smile at the dimming childhood memories i have...of being the first car waiting as the drawbridge went up and down for boats, or counting menorahs in the apartment building windows as we crept from the verrazano to knapp street to visit my grandparents..but that is dwarfed by the ultimate joyous recollection of visiting my parents for dinner on a sunday one november..our beautiful trip from forest hills...the glory of the van wyck...the majesty of the merge to the belt...and then nothing...oh, yes, did i mention it was marathon sunday...thinking how i could have walked faster and pondering what would be the degree of difficulty to climb into the backseat to change lauren, only six months old...would there ever be another staten island family dinner on that sunday...fuggedaboutit!

Thursday, May 17, 2012

the cat's meow

4am....our 10-year-old tabby, donut, is meowing....no...he is bellowing....it is 2-weeks since we moved from our home of almost 20 years, a large colonial, to this 2-bedroom rental...temporary digs until our new condo is ready...for 2 weeks donut has voiced his opinion...sometimes starting at the lovely hour of 2:30am...the time when you're in a relative coma, and the dream is getting interesting...other times he starts at 4am..quiets after i feed or pet him...or stops and starts at 5am, 6am...each time when I go to see what the problem is he gives me your basic cat response...regal pose, corners of his mouth arched in a smile and silent...till i return to the covers, my fading dream, only to hear a loud "meow"...he is pushing me over the edge...for the past few nights, well maybe it is the sleep deprivation, but i seemed to hear, "meow, meow, meow, fuck you, why did we move, where are my stairs, meow, haha, hi neighbors"...i am sure there is an animal behaviorist out there shaking his or her head, affirming i am a bad owner, doing everything wrong, to which i would reply, "meow"...

Friday, May 11, 2012

in the beginning

if the poet in me speaks to the serious side of life, then the blogger in me speaks to the rest...all the rest...all the "wtf" moments...the ones that you have to write down otherwise who would believe you?....like the guy who tried to buy an open bag of oreos at my moving sale two weeks ago...or the people who bought the couch and loveseat who proceeded to arrive 17 hours late to pick them up...picture this: two women, one nine months pregnant, and a man with a wrist wrapped in post-surgical tape...the three of them looking at me as if I would morph into the Seven Santini Brothers...collapsing in bed the night after the sale only to find someone sold our alarm clock...and emergency flashlight kept at the side of the bed...I guess they needed it to find the oreos....