Adele

Think of me in the depths of your despair

Make a home down there

(Rolling in the Deep -- Adele)

Belated Thanksgiving & 10th Month Post

Simply put, I am thankful that my cousins Tina & Harry are visiting, that Jeschia is in town, that I have a won-dee-ful famiry. Thankful for the group effort in making mac & cheese, Drew's generous (but fast depleting supply of peanut m&ms, free frozen yogurt (nevermind the unchisel-ble ice). I am thankful for Andrew who makes an unforgettable Andrewcation possible. I am thankful for our 10 months together as Bear & P.

See clearly

How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me

Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

On manhood

Me: Jordan. There are quite a number of guys who would actually be okay with being mannies. Stay-at-home mannies. Which surprises me because what about taking pride in being the Alpha Male?

Jordan: What Alpha Male. Look at me. Look at these loafers. Do these loafers look like they can support a family? You've got another think coming.

Audre Lorde

"Every woman I have ever loved has left her print upon me, 

where I loved some invaluable piece of myself apart from me—

so different that I had to stretch and grow in order to recognize her."

Briefly

Altered Herbert

Never
did I speak with her either about love
or about death

only blind taste and mute touch
used to run between us
when absorbed in ourselves
we lay close

I must peek inside her to see what she wears at her center

when she slept with her lips open
I peeked

and what
and what
would you think I caught sight of

I was expecting branches
I was expecting a bird
I was expecting a house by a lake great and silent

but there on a glass counter
I caught sight of a pair
of silk stockings
on the glass counter of the little soul

Audrey

Ugly Christmas sweaters

I have been searching high and low for an ugly Christmas sweater with a reindeer pattern. I secretly really want one (not so secretly now, I guess). The best Christmas sweaters are ones that make you feel nostalgic for kindergarten rooms and gingerbread. Also for wreaths made out of construction paper smelling damply of Elmers glue. And it just so happens that the ugliest sweaters are the most effective in bringing back those warm feelings. While I didn't find my reindeer sweater, here are a couple that I've been eyeing. They are pretty standard, but wait till you get to the bottom.

Now check out this bad baby. It deserves honorable mention.

Scattered thoughts on Boston

Cobblestones and wooden shutters make up Acorn Street. Peeking into windows here is altogether different from peering into New York ones. Here are residential homes that feel more permanent, rooted. He tells me he loves Beacon Hill, how history leaves no corner untouched.

My forest green scarf is too thin but he brought his grey striped scarf for me. Standing in front of John Hancock's tomb, signers of the Declaration of Independence -- "Don't point with your feet, hunny." I feel bad like a child about my mistake and give his arm a slight squeeze, tell those resting that I'm sorry.
Sunlight splitting branches. The air smells free.

In the car he asks if I like trees when they're bare or when they're fat with leaves. Bald branches look like feathers from a distance, but up close they are threatening. So I conclude that I like bamboos. He likes big, old trees -- ones that have been around since forever, he says.

I feel this happy inner seed in me.

Eating tiramisu while propped against two pillows, sitting side by side on a Quincy market bench scooping up creamy clam chowder. His lobster roll is overflowing. At Shabu-zen, we have watermelon slushies that go down to our bellies smoothly, it tastes the way all watermelon slushies are supposed to.

Seeing Jess' shoes before I see her face. How do you love and trust in Him -- what does that mean? She sits in the backseat and when I talk about J.D. Salinger's "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," I turn my head toward the window because that's the best I can do to face her. And how is screenwriting? A little bit of aggression is an essential component when it comes to kissing. "I can't be doing all the work," she says. We consider the appeal, effectiveness and possibility of using okcupid and match.com. We marvel at throws, at pillows and later, in the hotel lobby, at the male psyche. Wine improves her sense of direction. During this trip I learn that she finds hot pot appalling.

"All parks sound the same."

Travel through gridded streets, recite them alphabetically. Arlington, Berkeley, (what's C? Clarrrerendon? -- Clarendon), Dartmouth, Exeter (like the boarding school? -- Yes -- talks of preps in ties). Newbury in the night, Newbury in daytime. Flashbacks of shopping there with Ann. Drew tells me, The Europeans used to sit in front of Armani. Drew tells me a lot of things from his life in Boston. I listen with warm intrigue; I would like a second round of his memories.

Going away

Every time I'm about to go on a trip, I have to cut my nails. I'm not sure when and why it has become a prerequisite. But it makes me feel clean and ready.

 Drew and I are going to Boston for the weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is one of those times that calls for a blaring sequence of exclamation marks. I feel a lot of joy.

The deaf violinist

"She once told me that she loved me because I was the only thing she could hear. She can feel the vibration of the strings through the carved vessel of her instrument, but I am inside her. I am a song soaked into each bone of her secret body where the world has not been able to wander."

--Simon Van Booy

Delicacy

Today I invented a new snack. 

And because I am transcendently generous, 

I will share it with all of you. Behold. 

Almonde wrapped with string cheese

Forget what has swallowed you

I land in a room where promises and good china collide, both broken for the same reason.
There in that room, that's where I find it --
the small-knotted fist: your jealousy.

how we so often mistook it for love.

Of the moon

Calpico

I love you rotten,
Delicious rottenness.
Raspberries leaking, plastic bag bursting till
Vomit drains out. Mark's face and Alyssa's baby splashed
Atop pulpy nuggets, orange hot sauce.
Crab legs fall from collarbones.
Peer at my cavity, see the hole,
My vanity. Dream Woman Muse.
Chalky red lips oddly without
Grooves; forefinger hooked around thumb.
This isn't me, submissive
Before you. This is me, head between
Knees, shutting eyes remembering you
Matter infinitely.

Before bedtime

-- I had a Lean Pocket (broccoli and cheese) for dinner today. Bear heated it up for me. The first time I ever had a Lean Pocket was when Anelise shared hers with me (I believe it was the pizza flavor). I was really skeptical and then quickly became a fan. My mother would not approve of my frozen foodieness.

--Today I missed my sister extra much. I think it had something to do with opening our fridge and spotting her jar of jalepenos that's been there since last December. I counted four tiny ones left, sunken pitifully on the bottom. She used to eat them with kettle chips for dinner... until I'd hand a bowl of whatever veggies I could steam up next to a block of tofu and scallions and soy sauce. For dessert once I placed a mini Snickers bar. And then around midnight I fixed us both some peanut butter toast.
Neither of us ever really cooked but I guess that leads me to the best part, which is that we were fine with our own way of providing for each other. I think anyone else would have snorted if I laid a bowl of steamed greens in front of them, and given me a look like, "Really? Go fix me a real meal." But Ann and I were never like that with each other. I remember how touched I was when she heated up a bowl of canned soup for me the first night I got back from summer in Taiwan. It was as if she had made it all by herself.

-- Bear is a can-do man.

-- Isn't this great: "Ugly rows of apartment buildings the color of dried blood and mustard." (Tennessee Williams describing St. Louis)

-- Humidifiers intrigue me. I can actually see the mist spewing out of this one! Pew~Pew~Pew~ in soft waves. Oh, moist-me.

-- Could I pull off parachute pants?

-- I really miss my sister.

Dim and fur

Playwriting

is not my forte. My favorite part of it is probably writing stage directions... and coming up with character names.

Also I think I will be one of those people who wears socks in bed from now on. I can't abide another night of ice cube toes. Oh here is a possible dialogue snippet. 

Drew: I love it when you wear those big socks.

Me: Really? 

Drew: Nope. 

Except Drew probably wouldn't say that. I'm not sure if he is pro-big socks or not. 

Yum

My favorite of all time since the 3rd grade