from poetry.com
waking to a gecko on the ceiling
breathing freely in camoflaged living,
i realize i have slept beside him
in so many small, musty rooms -
a million breaths in sync. . .
in love with my displacement,
i am absent to the world,
imitating the dreams of monks,
bowing in the shadows of buddha
and meditating into existance
thousands of yellow butterflies. . .
when i am too close to home,
i crave the scattered smells
and lost colors of mysterious cultures,
and myself moving in rhythm with them -
i am dispersed forever
in tropical winds away from home,
swaying with coconut palms and dancing gods,
spilled, like incense, across pineapple fields
and across oceans like loose sand.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Sicko
i'm not saying that we're completely broken. or beyond hope. i just think we should start to stand for a change. a change that ensures EQUAL healthcare for everyone whether they're rich or poor, black or white, adult or child. so many healthcare horrors. each person's story stamped with denied:
"i was denied coverage because according to my insurance company you're just not supposed to develop cervical cancer @ 22."
"they called it a pre-existing condition."
"they would not help my seizing daughter @ this hospital, because my insurance company would not pay for it. she died upon arrival at one that would."
"they did not pay for my ambulance ride to the hospital after my head on collision because it was not pre-approved. when was i supposed to call to get pre-approval? after i regained consciousness in the ambulance? should i have crawled out of my car and picked my cell phone up off the road?"
"i volunteered on 9/11. now the government will not help pay for the respitory conditions i developed as a result. they say i'm a hero but deny me."
i have some respect for the original plan of hmo's. it had promise. it had hope. it opted to give people the choice to seek out the best medical treatment they could find. it promised doctors the right to practice wherever they wanted.
but things have gotten out of hand. and the plan has become tainted. dirty. and too many insurance companies have blood on their hands from the people they have denied to save the company money.
but wouldn't we all be better off if we instituted another plan. one that encouraged better health. for instance, great britan's doctors get bonuses when their patients are healthier - reduced cholestorol, weight lost, stopped smoking. instead our plan rewards the insurance companies by denying coverage. making the american people worse off in health & $.
our plan just seems ass backwards at this point.
helping so little @ such a great expense.
"i was denied coverage because according to my insurance company you're just not supposed to develop cervical cancer @ 22."
"they called it a pre-existing condition."
"they would not help my seizing daughter @ this hospital, because my insurance company would not pay for it. she died upon arrival at one that would."
"they did not pay for my ambulance ride to the hospital after my head on collision because it was not pre-approved. when was i supposed to call to get pre-approval? after i regained consciousness in the ambulance? should i have crawled out of my car and picked my cell phone up off the road?"
"i volunteered on 9/11. now the government will not help pay for the respitory conditions i developed as a result. they say i'm a hero but deny me."
i have some respect for the original plan of hmo's. it had promise. it had hope. it opted to give people the choice to seek out the best medical treatment they could find. it promised doctors the right to practice wherever they wanted.
but things have gotten out of hand. and the plan has become tainted. dirty. and too many insurance companies have blood on their hands from the people they have denied to save the company money.
but wouldn't we all be better off if we instituted another plan. one that encouraged better health. for instance, great britan's doctors get bonuses when their patients are healthier - reduced cholestorol, weight lost, stopped smoking. instead our plan rewards the insurance companies by denying coverage. making the american people worse off in health & $.
our plan just seems ass backwards at this point.
helping so little @ such a great expense.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Tea Time in Summer
it was one of those weekends that ooze satisfaction:
a trip to ithaca where i was offered the chance to visit with some old family friends & relatives i haven't seen in probably 2 years.
a relaxing friday night where i did nothing but watch one full disc of sex & the city.
playing fetch with matisse @ fallsburg park. i was dirty and sopping wet afterwards but so happy.
a tea party with my niece, my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law. we were all fabulous under a shade tree, dressed in fancy hats.
N on a recent blog told me to "just jump." in execution, it's so simple (and it should be, i've done it before. . . ) but for some reason i'm hesitant. i keep telling myself to just book the ticket and everything else will fall into line. mostly because it has to. but i feel guilty about everything i would be leaving behind - matisse, some undone wedding plans, an extra income, an unpack/unpainted apartment. i know that once i let go of those things, i can go too.
just let go. . .
10 songs i just can't get off my ipod:
walking on the moon/the police/the very best of sting & the police
under pressure/queen & the david bowie/classic queen
orange sky/alexi murdoch/time without consequence
rehab/amy winehouse/back to black
put your records on/corinne bailey rae/corinne bailey rae
wait until tomorrow/the john mayer trio/try!
listen up!/the gossip/standing in the way of control
sand in my shoes/dido/life for rent
down so long/jewel/spirit
the rain/k-os/atlantis - hymns for disco
-edit @ 9:06 pm-
i jumped, baby. i'll be in orlando on July 13 @ 10:10pm
a trip to ithaca where i was offered the chance to visit with some old family friends & relatives i haven't seen in probably 2 years.
a relaxing friday night where i did nothing but watch one full disc of sex & the city.
playing fetch with matisse @ fallsburg park. i was dirty and sopping wet afterwards but so happy.
a tea party with my niece, my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law. we were all fabulous under a shade tree, dressed in fancy hats.
N on a recent blog told me to "just jump." in execution, it's so simple (and it should be, i've done it before. . . ) but for some reason i'm hesitant. i keep telling myself to just book the ticket and everything else will fall into line. mostly because it has to. but i feel guilty about everything i would be leaving behind - matisse, some undone wedding plans, an extra income, an unpack/unpainted apartment. i know that once i let go of those things, i can go too.
just let go. . .
10 songs i just can't get off my ipod:
walking on the moon/the police/the very best of sting & the police
under pressure/queen & the david bowie/classic queen
orange sky/alexi murdoch/time without consequence
rehab/amy winehouse/back to black
put your records on/corinne bailey rae/corinne bailey rae
wait until tomorrow/the john mayer trio/try!
listen up!/the gossip/standing in the way of control
sand in my shoes/dido/life for rent
down so long/jewel/spirit
the rain/k-os/atlantis - hymns for disco
-edit @ 9:06 pm-
i jumped, baby. i'll be in orlando on July 13 @ 10:10pm
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
dear,
you look at me and say "explain yourself."
i hear you on the other end of the line "tell me."
"what do you want?" "where are you headed?"
"you create your own destiny, now tell me what makes you happy?"
i falter in my words. i hear criticism for a life so undecided, the echo of adults who have time and time again reiterated your own words but have tainted them with judgement, rather than empathy or understanding.
but i know that's not what you mean to convey. when i step away from the conversation and the inevitable emotion that follows it, i hear you trying to push me towards the world i've always wanted. you don't intend to critize, you just want to see me happy, and to you it doesn't matter how i get there or what it is that makes me so. you just want me h.a.p.p.y.
and when you ask, i crawl into myself because i don't have the right answer and i am afraid to tell you the answer i do have. simple things make me happy like a good cup of coffee, a great book, a full night's sleep, playing fetch with matisse, strawberry picking during summertime, singing out loud, a warm blanket, flannel pajamas fresh from the dryer, conversing with friends, a bargain. there are a million, trillion small things that make me happy, but when it comes to the greater things. . . .
i've always struggled. i find happiness after the fact but never in the midst of it. i look back on a certain point in my life and think "that was it" but while i'm living it i tend to focus on a part of the pie that's bad days rather than the larger part of the pie that occupies good days. i am not a consistently happy person, contrary to popular belief.
but you, you, have been the exception. for 3 years now you have made me consistantly happy. jump in air, click my heels together happy. h.a.p.p.y. with your arm around my waist you have given me more confidence than i have experienced before. with your warm body against mine, i have never felt more secure. strolling around in pajamas, i've never felt more sexy. you make me laugh harder than anyone else. you silence the world around me. you silence me. inside.
it's a simple happiness with you. it's also a complex one. so when you ask me what makes me happy, it sounds so rudimentary, so cheesy. you. you make me happy. but it's the truth.
i don't know how the rest of my journey will play out. i don't know if i'll be inspired to finish art school. or if i'll find happiness in something completely different. i don't know if i'll find happiness here in michigan or in florida, or idaho. but i believe that all of those aspects of my life will come together just like it has come together with you. slowly and over time it will develop into a deep love. a deep happiness
right now, what makes me happiest is you. and that's why when you insist "what makes you happy?" i pause. because it's so simple. i want to be near you, with you, hand-in-hand beside you.
i hear you on the other end of the line "tell me."
"what do you want?" "where are you headed?"
"you create your own destiny, now tell me what makes you happy?"
i falter in my words. i hear criticism for a life so undecided, the echo of adults who have time and time again reiterated your own words but have tainted them with judgement, rather than empathy or understanding.
but i know that's not what you mean to convey. when i step away from the conversation and the inevitable emotion that follows it, i hear you trying to push me towards the world i've always wanted. you don't intend to critize, you just want to see me happy, and to you it doesn't matter how i get there or what it is that makes me so. you just want me h.a.p.p.y.
and when you ask, i crawl into myself because i don't have the right answer and i am afraid to tell you the answer i do have. simple things make me happy like a good cup of coffee, a great book, a full night's sleep, playing fetch with matisse, strawberry picking during summertime, singing out loud, a warm blanket, flannel pajamas fresh from the dryer, conversing with friends, a bargain. there are a million, trillion small things that make me happy, but when it comes to the greater things. . . .
i've always struggled. i find happiness after the fact but never in the midst of it. i look back on a certain point in my life and think "that was it" but while i'm living it i tend to focus on a part of the pie that's bad days rather than the larger part of the pie that occupies good days. i am not a consistently happy person, contrary to popular belief.
but you, you, have been the exception. for 3 years now you have made me consistantly happy. jump in air, click my heels together happy. h.a.p.p.y. with your arm around my waist you have given me more confidence than i have experienced before. with your warm body against mine, i have never felt more secure. strolling around in pajamas, i've never felt more sexy. you make me laugh harder than anyone else. you silence the world around me. you silence me. inside.
it's a simple happiness with you. it's also a complex one. so when you ask me what makes me happy, it sounds so rudimentary, so cheesy. you. you make me happy. but it's the truth.
i don't know how the rest of my journey will play out. i don't know if i'll be inspired to finish art school. or if i'll find happiness in something completely different. i don't know if i'll find happiness here in michigan or in florida, or idaho. but i believe that all of those aspects of my life will come together just like it has come together with you. slowly and over time it will develop into a deep love. a deep happiness
right now, what makes me happiest is you. and that's why when you insist "what makes you happy?" i pause. because it's so simple. i want to be near you, with you, hand-in-hand beside you.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Conversations About Dogs
i went to bed @ 9:30 last night and slept until 9am this morning. i probably could have slept longer but a certain dog had way surpassed patience and decided he wanted to get a start on his day. so rather than jumping off the bed and passing time by chewing on a bone until i awoke, he cuddled close to me and then started awning -aaaahhhhwwwwwooooo. then he stretched. the kind of stretch that takes up 3/4 of a king size bed and lets me know that my presence in the remaining 1/4 is an irritation. i woke up to 2 big fuzzy, chocolate fur covered paws clawing me in the face. yes, yes, i'm getting up.
N called me on saturday @ about 10:30 am: "it's so nice not having a dog wake me up."
i had been up since 7:30 with said dog: "i'm happy for you, baby." i sighed and pulled harder on the other end up the rope. by that time we had taken a walk, played fetch in the yard and eaten breakfast and i was trying to map out how i coud entertain the little fella for the rest of the day. . .
i spent the afternoon with my friend, Sara. she kept repeating how much she wanted her own little furry friend, "but i took this test on petfinder.com that was supposed to match my interests with a kind of breed that would suit me and after i had answered all of the questions they said no breed matched my tastes." she looked kind of pensive for a moment and then resumed eating her sandwich.
"well," i asked "what did you say you wanted?"
she took a sip of her water "a dog that's not too big but not too small, doesn't chew, doesn't bark, doesn't shed, isn't too active, isn't aggressive but makes a good guard dog and that's friendly toward children."
"ahhh," i said, "so what you really want is a stuffed animal with big teeth that you can set by the door."
she smiled, even laughed a little "i know. i need to loosen my criteria a little more." we sat silent for a moment and she said "do you think Matisse is the perfect companion for you?"
i looked down and thought for a moment. thought about the last 5 months - the things he's chewed, the nights he's kept me up, the mornings he's woken up early, the barking. and then i started thinking about the long walks we've taken together, the days @ the beach throwing the ball into the water time and time again. and the times he has been a bed time companion when N's gone.
"yes," i said. he's the perfect companion for me."
N called me on saturday @ about 10:30 am: "it's so nice not having a dog wake me up."
i had been up since 7:30 with said dog: "i'm happy for you, baby." i sighed and pulled harder on the other end up the rope. by that time we had taken a walk, played fetch in the yard and eaten breakfast and i was trying to map out how i coud entertain the little fella for the rest of the day. . .
i spent the afternoon with my friend, Sara. she kept repeating how much she wanted her own little furry friend, "but i took this test on petfinder.com that was supposed to match my interests with a kind of breed that would suit me and after i had answered all of the questions they said no breed matched my tastes." she looked kind of pensive for a moment and then resumed eating her sandwich.
"well," i asked "what did you say you wanted?"
she took a sip of her water "a dog that's not too big but not too small, doesn't chew, doesn't bark, doesn't shed, isn't too active, isn't aggressive but makes a good guard dog and that's friendly toward children."
"ahhh," i said, "so what you really want is a stuffed animal with big teeth that you can set by the door."
she smiled, even laughed a little "i know. i need to loosen my criteria a little more." we sat silent for a moment and she said "do you think Matisse is the perfect companion for you?"
i looked down and thought for a moment. thought about the last 5 months - the things he's chewed, the nights he's kept me up, the mornings he's woken up early, the barking. and then i started thinking about the long walks we've taken together, the days @ the beach throwing the ball into the water time and time again. and the times he has been a bed time companion when N's gone.
"yes," i said. he's the perfect companion for me."
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Beautiful Shoes are Forever
back before bonefish restaurant had opened, the resturant offered an evening when staff could bring in family & friends to sample the food. Anie graciously extended the offer to myself and her boyfriend, Paul. the food was an appealing offer, but at the time i think what really cemented our decison to go was the 3 drinks they were offering at no cost. but i digress. . . .
that evening i met Paul & Anie at the restaurant decked out in a fantastic denim skirt with a black ribbon sewed around the top of it, a black button down shirt that showed just the perfect amount of clevage and a pair of hot pink stilettos - the perfect and only necessary accessory.
i met them at the booth, paul hugged me and andrea (as only a best friend could do) looked me up and down and said: "i love the come-fuck-me shoes."
huh?
well, i knew they were hot. but come-fuck-me shoes? at that point my life i had been complimented on my shoes, told they were good looking, suitable, even gorgeous but never come fuck-me-shoes. there was only one reaction to have to this compliment: awesome.
since them i have accumulated a couple pair of come-fuck-me shoes that are pulled out on special occasions to make my feet (and attitude) look spectacular. you'll be happy to know that the hot pink stilletos are still among the choices.
and tonight, i found another pair in snakeskin. i fell in love upon seeing them. strutted around in the store and praised issac mizrahi for yet another beautiful fusion of quality and price. they are, i'm happy to say the newest addition to my come-fuck-me collection.
that evening i met Paul & Anie at the restaurant decked out in a fantastic denim skirt with a black ribbon sewed around the top of it, a black button down shirt that showed just the perfect amount of clevage and a pair of hot pink stilettos - the perfect and only necessary accessory.
i met them at the booth, paul hugged me and andrea (as only a best friend could do) looked me up and down and said: "i love the come-fuck-me shoes."
huh?
well, i knew they were hot. but come-fuck-me shoes? at that point my life i had been complimented on my shoes, told they were good looking, suitable, even gorgeous but never come fuck-me-shoes. there was only one reaction to have to this compliment: awesome.
since them i have accumulated a couple pair of come-fuck-me shoes that are pulled out on special occasions to make my feet (and attitude) look spectacular. you'll be happy to know that the hot pink stilletos are still among the choices.
and tonight, i found another pair in snakeskin. i fell in love upon seeing them. strutted around in the store and praised issac mizrahi for yet another beautiful fusion of quality and price. they are, i'm happy to say the newest addition to my come-fuck-me collection.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Even Blogs Have to Grow Up.
when N moved to Orlando recently, he started his own blog on blogger. i was instantly jealous - "it looks so grown-up! it looks so refined! it has such cool features!" so, like a child @ christmas who wants their siblings christmas presents rather than their own, i jumped onto blogger and got my own account. it was time. i had all but abandoned my blog @ xanga. it no longer inspired me. i would attempt to update and sit for what seemed forever (but i'm sure in actuality was merely minutes) thinking about to write. i would dig in the back of brain, finally find something, write it down, re-read it and then instantly delete it. writing, for me, had never been so hard. and i believe that when things get hard, sometimes change is the best cataylist for inspiration.
i cannot start this site without acknowledging my old site. the one that got me started. the one that has about 2 years of writing on it. the one that feels like my favorite book as kid that i can't give up as an adult and still resides on my bookshelf in a place of prominence. so over on the links side of this blog you'll find "vintage logan" with a link to iprefermartinis. if you're interested, check it out.
now, the day stretches out before me. i turned off the air this morning and opened the windows. i craved the smell of summer, the breezes that blow the curtains, and the noise of passing cars & birds. now, i'm debating what to do with my day: go to the beach to watch the waves come in one by one while listing to my ipod and reading books and magazines. or stay here to clean and watch sex & the city, sit on my porch, go on a bike ride and generally enjoy alone time in the comforts of the apartment.
this great debate is one of the most beautiful things about weekends. no obligations. no getting out bed to a buzzing alarm. to have the day ahead of you, to do absolutely anthing you want. . .
i cannot start this site without acknowledging my old site. the one that got me started. the one that has about 2 years of writing on it. the one that feels like my favorite book as kid that i can't give up as an adult and still resides on my bookshelf in a place of prominence. so over on the links side of this blog you'll find "vintage logan" with a link to iprefermartinis. if you're interested, check it out.
now, the day stretches out before me. i turned off the air this morning and opened the windows. i craved the smell of summer, the breezes that blow the curtains, and the noise of passing cars & birds. now, i'm debating what to do with my day: go to the beach to watch the waves come in one by one while listing to my ipod and reading books and magazines. or stay here to clean and watch sex & the city, sit on my porch, go on a bike ride and generally enjoy alone time in the comforts of the apartment.
this great debate is one of the most beautiful things about weekends. no obligations. no getting out bed to a buzzing alarm. to have the day ahead of you, to do absolutely anthing you want. . .
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