Wednesday, November 16, 2011

on the complications of clasping

I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling.

I let him clasp me to his chest and I stood there feeling the warmth of his body as we leaned up against our cars in the parking lot. He pulled back to look at me and said, "The more I look in your eyes, the more I want to keep looking."

But I found myself in the familiar struggling place. "I'm not alone in feeling this way, am I?" he asked.

I tried to explain but I didn't know how. This connection feels awesome, yes. But...

And that was the night I met a longterm penpal visiting from 3,000 miles away. We hugged, and then I pulled away.

Monday, November 14, 2011

It was time to buy PANTS.

The girl is 10 and the boy is 12. They kept cracking me up.
Mom: "You need pants!"
Boy: ::rolls eyes:: 
And that's how we found ourselves in the JC Penney.

Fifteen minutes later, mom handed an armload of jeans to the boy.

"I HATE this place," he said, trudging off to the fitting room.

I ran off with the girl to make fun of obnoxious jewelry.

Pants were eventually purchased and we left the store, much to the boy's relief.

But guys, the JC Penney is right next to a Walmart.


See full post)

Dudes, I'm visiting Vermont.

How can I not stop in Walmart?

It should be a mission: visit a Walmart in each state. Catalogue teh crazy.

Of course I want to contribute to the People of Walmart (POW) blog. I consider it a civic duty, actually.

I explained this serious mission to the kids. (Actually the kids initiated the idea. "There were really strange people last time we were here.")
Me: "Ok kids, now if you see anything um, unusual, and want to point it out, let's have a code. Say 'I'm hungry.'" (Because, you know, kids want to say stuff like "LOOK AT THAT THOUSAND POUND LADY!" which is wholly embarrassing in public.)
(For the next 30 minutes -->) Kids: "I'M HUNGRY!! I'M HUNGRY!!" 

One other thing about Vermont? It's fucking COLD in this mofo. I packed 5 outfits for 5 days and have worn ALL FIVE OUTFITS EVERY DAY. And I was still fucking freezing. It's not even the dead of winter!

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

I've got terrible hair and an old car. Hollywood is 3,000 miles away.

In the movie version of my life, I am driving down the interstate steeped in thought with tears streaming down my face, that conversation replaying in my head. Smiling though -- these are tears of gratitude and appreciation, not misunderstanding. They're the sweat of healing as it exerts old barbs of hurt from embedded places.

It's hard work, healing.

Some very appropriate song would be playing, perhaps one made specifically for me, right now. But this is no movie and all I've got is the radio streaming Adele, and so I listen to "Someone like you" and discard the bits that don't count. I'm left with:
Nevermind that I'll find someone like you

I wish nothing but the best for you

Don't forget me, I begged, I remember you said

Sometimes it lasts in love, sometimes it hurts instead
Aqua-eyed boy is home. He made it through deployment safely.

We didn't need to catch up because we were already caught up. We needed the inexpressible. To be understood. Not just to understand our ties together, but the kind of understanding that should have come from home delivered to young psyches by healthy parents and happy homes. Not homes struggling with fires and pain and loss and shame.

We sat on a park bench overlooking a small canal and held hearts, not hands. It was our deepest, most honest conversation yet. He reached into the darkest parts of my soul and gently picked out shards of glass. Monkeys pick nits from eachother's bodies, allowing themselves to be vulnerable for their own good. Evolved species we are, modern-day lice infest the cerebrum and can best be reached through the loving gestures of another.

In the movie version of my life, this scene marks a turning point. Scenes of friendship where the characters dance in the kitchen wielding spray cleaner and sponges, nap like kittens,  read quietly from opposite sides of the room, make specialized chai and bristle over the discovery of raucous billing mistakes, and ends with the outpouring on the park bench. Fluidity that speaks of togetherness, where you can simply be because the sense of comfort is so great; how is unimportant. The turning point isn't all this, though. These things were there before. It's the peace with what will be.

If this were a movie, we'd maybe fall in love. But go with what you've got, right? I've got terrible hair, an old car, a long drive down a boring interstate, and Adele on the radio. Absolutely NOT Hollywood material... but it is real life. We fall, yes. But instead into a deeper friendship. We acknowledge that one day there will be others and we will rejoice in each other's happiness. We hug. And we laugh.
I wish nothing but the best for you.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

This is why I hate chat.

This is why I hate chat. 
Me: brb

Them: what's up?

Me: brb something needs addressing.

Them: yes?

Me: brb = be right back

Them: ?? asplenia?

Them: asplenia?

::immediately emails:: "Asplenia, is everything okay??? Do you need me to take off work and come get you?"
I just developed a nervous tic. DUDE ALL I SAID WAS "brb" -- not "I'M SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUSTING"! ::headdesk::