menudon't

DREAM

I'm working in the store, the old one in irving.. same old dream again, it's night and it's time to close shop but outside it seems so late, too late, like a 3am moonlight late. I screw up something and we have to stay late. I remember this night. I made it all worse for everyone. I've had this dream before. I set off the alarm and we all have to stay. The boss is mad at me. Finally I make it out and go to the airport.
At the airport the light is white and clean. It's empty.. I'm walking to the baggage carosel and on my way back from it, my hands are empty I have no bags to claim, I see Russell Brand standing in black by the door.. I quickly say as I pass.. 'Russell Brand.. you are amazing..' and I walk thru the doors only to trip and fall to the floor. He comes to me and pulls me up.. then we talk in garbled dream speak, his face is caring and kind.. and I tell him about the job and the fuck ups that follow me around like a plague..he says 'love' alot and seems generally concerned for my well being.. in his tight black pants and eyeliner and crazy hair.. I get on my plane, only to see he is on the same flight.. he has a bottle of whiskey at his lap and our chairs are facing eachother. I curl up into the two seats that I have and he watches me as I fall asleep.

Booksigning was good. Not spectacular and not a disaster. Thats all you can ask for. Today only 2 kids showed up for storytime. I'm exhausted. I stayed up too late after a full day yesterday, and today I intend to do the same. I have a dance I want to go tonight, but tomorrow I will rest and be in my home.

LIFE! There is something missing lately. Nothing is filling the void like I want it to. I want yoga to fill me. I want the bookstore success to fill me. I want the community support to fill me. I want the art and the poetry and music to fill me. I can't find the full feeling anymore. I don't fill myself up with food anymore and now I feel so empty. Always trying to fill in the extra spaces with something. Distractions. Lonliness. Spirituality. Next week i will know if this is what my soul is craving. I will be seeing the Dalai Lama on the 9th. I can hardly believe it. What will happen?

aye aye aye

crazy days. it's just a little store. what if they don't like it. what if it is too mom and pop, not slick enough. my handmade signs y todo. sometimes i get to feeling very small. i was on my knees polishing the floor at 9am this morning. I was dusting the shelves and moving things around. i lost my table that i needed and the AC is still out. Nothing every comes easy. I haven't eaten breakfast or lunch, but on the up side I can see my arms slimming down from all the downward dog. I needed someone to rescue my today, but he doesn't get off of work till 3:30. I'm scared. I'm nervous. I'm a mess. I'm excited. I'm hoping someone will be impressed. I'm hoping we sell all these books we bought. i'm hoping everyone is nice and that the night is over soon so I can stand in my living room and do downward dog and the corpse pose till I fall asleep. These things.. wreck my ocd and my anxiety disorder. the medication keeps me from totally wigging out, but it's still there. its still there.. and where would it go? its always been there. today we just have to get thru each hour and make it to the end of the night. deep breath. here we go.

a poem for my yoga girl friend

girl friend i tried to tell you again
when the phone rings and time stings and
brings those old emotion backed lens
everything is clearer, fiercer, and fine
our life divine in lotus
and mudras the spine exhales like a cobra
bent over and skull ragdoll exhale
unto the wood floor
girl friend theres more
than this daily exsistance resistance
to truth in hourglass speed
we do in good deed the love that we need
pasting parts of ideals over the real
marking faces with dreams of gracefull esteem
roll over it, make it to place that is deemed
fantastical, spastical lucid and concrete
the growth of woman will not be discrete
our hair grows like branches our arms
know the motion
wave like the ocean theses hips have the notion
inside is the potion
girl friend girl friend
our ties never bend
come dance with me
at last lets be
entirely to the end.

catching up, slowing down.

swirling emotions, and bad dreams. good vibes and strange nights. losing myself in distractions lately. Yoga makes you breathe and slow down. All the thoughts rolling around in my head so hard to quiet. Even with medications and mindfull awareness.. the slow comes hard to me. had a good talk with friends on Sunday after Bills. Sometimes it's good not to have a timeline to return to. I forget what that feels like. It feels so good that I want C to feel that way soon. Maybe we can forget our troubles in a night that never ends. Maybe i'm just thinking fairytale dreams again. Maybe i'll never learn.

Yoga makes me feel stronger than I am. Now I can push up on my toes and flip myself into a number of positions in seamless succession. Still there are lots of things I cannot do. The bathroom scale keeps mocking me. It stays the same place. I at this point have given up and given in to the yoga, zumba, long walks and feeling terrific no matter what that fucker says. Today is overall day. Overall and 75208 t shirt day, baby doll hair clip and pony tail. Flip Flops. Red lipstick. Dj Shadow. I ran into an old friend in Xpo last night. He asked me what I hadn't done in a long time for fun and I said go dancing. It's been a long time, but I dance everyday in the store, in the house, in the supermarkets, in the car. Especially in the store. Everyday when my back is tight and the streets are ignoring my little windows I just turn it up and dance. I asked him and he said swimming. He grew up by the coast. I can't imagine feeling so lonesome for something that is in your blood like that. It's almost like breathing. I miss the beach. I miss the feeling that no one is missing me if I am there. I like the feeling of not having to answer to anything but the ocean and the sky. Sunburn and all, it's worth it. Not this year, maybe next. I've written countless poems about the ocean. I am a fish, I will always long to be there. And yet I respect its power. Jazz jazz and open mic guitars. Cigarettes and trainspotting. My old friend and I try to figure out life over a few puffs and musings. Our train will never come. Not the one we are waiting for. He is broken right now. I'm a fixer upper always in transition. We are both beautiful, happy and sad at the same time. We laugh and think people think we are talking about serious things. It's just life, on a monday night in xpo park. Everything has changed in 20 years. No more bookstore, no more deli on the corner, no more retro shops. Bars and bikes and gastropubs. Is that what will happen to X+? It seems like it could be. I walk back to the jazz bar and let the music hit my back and the wind hit my face. i drive home and he is sleeping. coze up to his warm familiar body. the day holds so much for us. Sometimes I lay for hours listening to him sleep. What will tomorrow bring?

and another note, just ran into a regular that has been coming around. looking for work now, and yes, he knows A.P. and it just proves that everyone in the world knows AP. You probably do to. Crazy wild mad man on the piano and typewriter. Suitcases full of jewels of poetry. Stream of consciousness word play from another world. I love him. He hates me for now, but soon we'll be ok. Things happen and people say and do hurtfull things to each other. We are only human. I had a tall pedastal for him and his words, and well I always do for poets. Genius poets. So hard to contain in your life for more than fleeting moments. I will always love the mad ones. Always have and always will. I breathe in compassion and self love. I breathe out negative thoughts and paranoia and fear. I breathe into the positions that life is put me into and try to go deeper into them to understand thier signifigance in my life. In all life. I breathe in the understanding and knowledge to accept its lessons, but most of all I breathe out the fear. Namaste.

real deal

Oh oh my cranial bones ache at you
Shake for you
Waking mornings more blessed
Distressed undressed and
Mind pressed
Flies fly by the naked sky arounding
Astounding, the menial mess
That you left
Shorn cheeks of red weakness
And peakness, obliqueness
Bobbed in my shoulder nest of you
Knew, blew and screw
Tenacious of the heartbreaker
In two
Falling wicked, who’s sicker
And thicker the hero or shero
In this 33 1/3 world rounding about
Stout and loud
We call a crowd with you and the voo doo that doo
Do you like me like a poet
Or flim flam me like a sullen gullet of now
See I wanna know the real deal phil
Arch nemesis be well with us in the chains of the pains
That a lonely heart creates
Take my
Bandages, my baggages, my handbags of pre marital mercury
And call me a good girl
Meet me in church with this broken mouth
These rotating lips and shorn hips
I’d hide the bounty of my bootie
Tied up in straps, chaps, betting craps
And loose like a noose
To hang infidels like us by
Real real I wann know the real deal gangster
Lay it down heavy on the levy between the gleam of your
Rival teams
Lets break this, reshape this, rewind and find that familiar grind
Who’s played this record today
Let em say
They knew it would happen
As soon as we met.

rain of emoticons.

Saw Austin High Screening last night at The Kessler. Had a great time.. it's a perfect movie that embodies the weird wonderful strangeness that is Austin TX. You know everyone in Dallas secretly wishes they were in Austin, right? Or is that just me? Anyway, see this movie, wherever and however you can. It's gold. Get yourself in the right mood before hand and it's even better. I particularly liked the animation, and 'fantasy scenes'. All the characters were rich and developed and I liked all of them, even if I was suppossed to hate them. Thats always the best!

Had Dr appointment yesterday, and I am ALL GOOD. False negatives retested, blah blah blah, and I am all good! The Dr. is proud of my achievments, the yoga and zumba and walking and biking have paid off in bringing down my glucose levels. Hasn't done much for my weight loss, but I must argue, along with Felicia that I must have grown some muscles... so there! oh yeah and there's a yoga bootie just fighting to get out! Amazing!

Finding myself alone again today at the shop. It's been good here lately the store looks full and beautiful, in the works to getting the air back on, and just keep on keeping on. Last night we ran into a couple that were so happy we were here, and excited to have a bookstore in their neighborhood. It just makes it worth it for a while, after you've been discussing, planning, suffering at the hands of this wicked fate of being what is considered an obsolete type of business, being broke, working long hours and planting a smile on your face to show the world that everything is ok, even if its not. It gets exhausting. Then someone tells you how they've been turned on to something or someone, or has met the amazing group of poets or artists that we have the pleasure of knowing.. and it all fits together. Small moments. We'll never have that huge moment here.. it will always be the little sweet things. The faces of the kids we read to at storytime, the friends we make who find that book they've been looking for for years, the voracious readers who will talk to you and share thier love, the musicians who can sell thier work here that are so appreciative but it US that appreciate all of them, all of you and everyone. I'm going off on this tangent, because this life is so fleeting. I know I am so lucky to be doing this, however crazy and unwise my business decisions are, I will be here until I just cant do it anymore. I guess you'll have to drag my body out of here. Because I love this store so much. I do. I really do.

Been writing volumes on Forrest Fest. Couldn't have imagined that it would inspire me so, and it was the entire experience from leaving Dallas to traveling all the way to and from Lamesa. It was the fire I needed to get me back. To those of you who read me, thanks. It's good to know you are out there. More poetry to come. Stay tuned. and love love love.

mending fences

i've been having to do more talking than i usually like to do. i like to muse on things, I like to sit back and nod my head and take in the millions of details for words for later poems. i don't like serious. i don't like it one on one baby, but i do it because I have to, and because no one really digs the cryptic jazz all the time. Theres the delight in the cryptic, the taking from one part and melding into the second and third and then you have a group of things that form a puzzle and the picture comes thru. but with us, I can't find all the pieces and i think some of them have been missing for a long time, probably swept up in a rush trying to clean all the messes up. and yes theres been alot of messes, baby. I clean up good. But on the inside its all barbwire and broken thistle flowers and red clay dirt and dust mites. Maybe we can build a fence around us instead of between. Maybe we can finally start this life again clean. i'll need a hammer and maybe some glue. i'll leave it up to you.

no more premeditations

giving up premeditation,

str8 into life with no mind to hold me by,

head to the sky i clicked my heels to they rythem of lust,

wanted to catch your breath like a baby in my wilful lungs

but just kept tapping high heels like

loaded guns of skin on steel

on the asphalt

an imaginary line of will

that keeps us from floating up,

im giving up premeditation

and going down with meditation,

maybe this will clear my mind,

maybe someday i'll forget your shaking lines

and come clean with the answers you demand in time

never love a poet

I'm free.
Sometime cum and amuse me
Poetry hangover blues/dancing shoes parading west
down vest and cockatoo
My thread is red and will be missed turned to ashes by wildfires lips

Rusty alligator tooth windmill moaning free
dead tree
holes full of ragamuffin ruts and imaginary hands.
Snap the lens like a strobe globe of time.
We'll shoot down the fool moon and start new.
Now I know where to find you/(me) too.

A body cannot fill me like your poetry can
teeth pulled back,
jaw slack,
inhale and the spirit must come thru
quarter
nickel
cigarettes for two
tin can
earth kablam
only weeks until judgement day come what may
let's SWING it PROPER
beat daddies, laddies, stone cold fatties ,
exhale poetry into naked ears like erect sighs
thighs and gibberish lies...

Let's not get tripped up on this all traditional shit,honey,
dont get hysterical,
get small
Neal and Jack got things to do /n all
spinning words like birds into the beat blanket of stars
shooting verbs l-l-l-Ike mars
all stone sweet and majestic to
stomp my flesh heart yearnings stout
like a smoked out cigarette
no next chances on horse blankets and shalls
we exchanged it all
with the weight of my breasts in your hands

Oooooooooh...
and the carcrashes of disappointment!!
covered in dew,
each one like broken confetti eggs of dreams
You've made a glitter filled omelet of me
less than the sum, more than the making
breakfast alone in a room full of eyes shaking heads
marking my face with whisker burn telltale poetry of your consumed art
Just a swallow and now
I'm less than hollow
hallowed be thy seeded game

Gordon Thornton at Ruta Maya

eyes open, ears open, jaw dropped. just one of the many i had the pleasure to hear and meet this weekend. holy yes.

beret baby be beat

I met Neal Cassady in West Texas, playing guitar and babbling ba ba bas in his strumming lines of stream of consiousness in the last patch of green left standing in the arid smoke filled sky. I met Carlo Marx softspoken shuffling steps in the red dirt. I drank wine on ice with Gary Snyder, and smoked ciggarettes with a young Sylvia Plath. The swingset squeals make heaven music with the train track tracks cracking and bumping in sex rythem cars, under the stars, all eyes for the beatnicks being swallowed by the forrest sky at night. Red threads bit and stick and salt innuendo, parachutes and wind to catch us on our descent, cat in the hat on speed, laughing in cars, child eyes wide cautiously optimistic, STRUM STRUM STRUM, Torso to the side and chin down, STRUM STRUM STRUM, torso down and lips open, STRUM STRUM STRUM and gear shifting is difficult on the way back home, desexed and closed to the house with christmas lights and poets sleeping on the floor. spitfire or southern belle left twisting in the sheets dreambean in cotton coocoon, will return again soon and we'll sing this song to wake up our dorment dreams

this old paper pulp /n elementery notes
yes or no
maybe always everything such means so
much
school boy crush what a rushin
tulips (two lips) blusin' mentaly hoden hands
and lavender kisses tumble over the
not so full/fool moon spoon
yikes conapsis!colapsis verbal relapsis lax and dreamy
schoogirl creamy
flower bubbles sprout and bow
little cockatoo namedd REDY early to BED y#
he;s no funny chirpness clap and pluck
bequeathed to fuck
to be guitar string and STRUM and not be STRUNG can EYE s/pend the night
leave that one eYES n/ the AM win this has been done.

colab by g.t and e.o.s.

and theres fire on the roadways bringing us back home. blood spilt and beer shits, fast food wrappers and guilty cigarettes, skeleton wakes up, bones grinding in thier zippers, beat filled jeans, string beans, forever calavera hands, shifting grins and shrugging shoulders, walking back to georgia on the train tracks

mango chili overdrive or how i stopped worring and learned to love the blog

Zumba was a riot. My body is getting used to this activity, the trouble is I'm eating ravenously. I'm trying my best to eat better things but i feel like a black hole of emptiness swallowing everything in site, but damn my legs and ass are looking goood!!!

Everything fell into place thanks to my good friend Rosie, we'll be leaving at noon tomorrow for Lamesa, TX where I will be at my first(!!!) poetry festival. Good friends, some poetry, some new faces and friends will be the order of the weekend, and I'll get to hang out with my favorite person, who I never get to see, Rosie. Hopefully she won't get too sick of me!

Saturday C will be in charge of the store, the storytime, and the record store day sale. Woop. I got out of alot of work, huh?

This morning I had a horrible nightmare. It involved alot of people I know and love, but mostly it involved C, and his dissapearance. I was so heartbroken in my dream that I cried for him and even cried for my mom. I woke up crying from this strange but very realistic dream, and the cat was sniffing my face and licking my nose as I felt the hot tears from my eyes. I don't know what brought this on. But I felt so afraid and the house was empty I instantly for a second felt that the dream was real and I texted Carlos who responded quickly.. I don't know, I usually don't get so caught up in my dreams that I forget reality.. and why was I crying out for my mom? And why was everyone from the poetry scene there? Why was Clebo there? Why were people walking on water? I've seen that pool before, I remember we were all walking on its surface once and that the water turned to glass under our feet.. and in the bedroom there were strangers having intercourse and I was disgusted by the open windows, Clebo was in the hottub wearing his hat and drinking whiskey, Jason Edwards was swimming in green swim trunks, all these people i haven't seen in years.. and then the note from C, telling me he tried his best to be a family with me, but that it just didn't work, and his cell phone sat on the motel bed, our family picture on its screen and I knew he was gone and I couldn't call him..wandering in and out of the hotel rooms hoping that one of these people weren't him but hoping it kind of was so I could grab him and bring him back home.. hot, thick blankets and dry mouth, i cried out to the only person I thought could help me, my mom, who is dead but in my dreams she is only a call away,, she didn't answer this time,, and i cried and cried till i woke up in a state.

I got to work 10 minutes late, i had overslept and had a list of things I had to do before I leave tomorrow. Mary came in and could tell I was sad. She understands missing people, but like a mother she reassures me that C isn't going anywhere..she gave me a breakfast taco. I ate it. I think it made me feel better.

and on and on.. this day full of questions plans and excitement. he told me last night that he'll miss me. not half as much as i will him. I think the nightmare was from the mango chili paleta I ate last night, along with the chicken wings and carrot sticks. Or maybe I just worry too much.

oogie boogie self sabotage monster on the loose! no worries, it's just me.

I had my first session of Yoga with the Tranquillo owner last night. I was told he was intense..and he really was! I have never been so challenged in my life, and once again, I'm still in disbelief that I can even do this. At moments I could feel streams of sweat pouring down like rivers in my eyes and face and down my body and I think.. this is what it feels like to be alive. To someone who has never felt this it is a strange and facinating sensation. Yeah it was hard, but it didn't hurt, it just challenged me. I had to stand back a few times and let it wash over me..but I DID IT..and again..I thank the universe for this new found health and power, and pray that i can continue down this path. I feel so fortunate.

This weekend I will be in Lamesa Tx for my first poetry festival. I don't know how to behave, and I don't even know if I have a proper ride and if I will get there on time! Oh so disjointed, and self sabotaging! How old and unrefined of me. Scared. I'm scared to be around all these new people. I'm scared to be judged and at the same time I want to be anonymous.It's all so dramatic. It's all so real. What the hell am I? An a actual poet?? I guess so. Damn. Here she goes, now how am I going to screw this one up?

The store is slow. It has been now going on for two weeks. Maybe it will be good to get away. Maybe. I really have to do this. God, I'm scared.

poetry, you've got me where you want me, on the sofa unrequited again

Photo by Rosie Lindsey

Poets on X+ was great, laid back, fun, funny, entertaining, happy, loving, sharing, and amazing. I'm so glad to know such wonderful people who just happen to be the most talented poets, artists, photographers in the OC ! What a life!

Nice short list of strong poets, followed by Lilly Penhall who took the spotlight and spread her energy all around. She was brilliant! I'm so glad she agreed to do our feature. Carlos and I stayed late at the gallery cleaned up a little and locked up and went out for a late supper. When we got home we collapsed. It was a sound sleep.

I didn't go to yoga yesterday, and I am already regretting it, as I won't be able to go today either since I am in charge of the store today. Tomorrow I'm going to slow flow and give it a try out. My muscles are not sore anymore, and I kind of miss that. I want to stretch them out again.

The AC is out in the shop. This has almost surpassed the slowest week of my life at Tyler/Davis. It's been dead, and today it's Saturday and I can't get a bite. I know there are alot of events going on in Dallas this weekend, but DAMN, can't I catch a break? The AC keeps anyone from staying long enough to linger, the door open with all the car exhaust and the annoying music from across the street.. and damn.. nobody wants to read anymore. I'm slipping into my negative cycle here. I know I need to stop, but sometimes, I just want to scream. Everyone sees on the outside what a dream it is to have your own business, when in actuality, its a nightmare most of the time. We had to close early yesterday because it was just too fucking hot to stay. I'm frustrated. lets move on.

Sweet P is with me at the store today. She's reading Gaiman short stories. We ate gorditas for lunch and were having a great little conversation till I asked about boys and then she crushed her coke can like the hulk and sulked for the rest of the meal. I have no idea how to talk to her. She is some other kind of beast. I guess I sometimes forget we are not friends, we are mom and daughter. It kinda makes me sad in a way, but I understand. i just wish I could have it both ways sometimes, but that is MY affliction. I just want a good friend, and I need to not put that on my daughter. I need my own friend.

But last night. Sitting in the gallery with uncle steve.. telling him that sometimes i want to pinch myself when we are there having the reading. it's really all I ever really wanted. I just wanted to host a reading that takes its own personality and movement and growth. i like to sit back and just take it all in. All these great people. all these great spontaneous moments..with my arms out ready to fly.. the words give me wings..it's just like me to feel that way.. another way to escape.
got drunk, jack would have been proud,rambling down the alleyways to the greasy diner and in the last red vinyl booth the old timer in his cowboy hat and western suit talks and laughs to himself, all the waitresses and even the cook, who unfortunately looks like she may have hit the pipe one too many times, white face, skeletal features, hollowed out eyes, well she moves like a dancer in front of the grill, breaking eggs into silver bowls with panache, flipping burgers and sprinklling cheese, toasting bread and slathering butter, turning pirouettes as she flips pancakes, she almost has 8 arms, this skinny girl, in baggy skinny jeans with rhinestone designs on her pockets that are sagging over her skeletal body, while the other waitress cuts a huge slice of chocolate merange pie like a skyscraper and places it inbetween us with two forks and two white napkins..and his eyes are tired..and mine are rolling back with drink and smoke and all the words i wanted to say to everyone of the people i know and love, shake thier shoulders, hey, don't you know i love you? don't you know that even in your darkest hours im shooting love bows and arrows into your hearts? that i long to feel your embrace and see your smiles and hear your laughter at all hours of the day echoing in my mind..oh humanity, such and eggshell of delicacy and purity and pure potential..every moving onward..oh this life is so beautiful, with its pirouetting cooks and starlight, moonlight crooked smile peeking at me thru the chainlink fences of this suburbia dream..then i look up and like a cat he's sitting there smoking cigs in his boxer shorts, he listened to every word we said..and I wish I had said something more than my drunken rambling, and i wish i could have yelled up to him, hey you, don't you know that crooked smiling moon is seeing you in your boxers? and he'd laugh and break the serious in his face, his lines would melt and shoulders would bend low in relaxation..and the door of the gallery, the back door I mean, it was letting in ghosts all night man..dig.

lone

i'm ready for a best friend again. someone to drink with and talk shit with. someone to confide in and be there for. Someone to work out with, and play with. i want someone to thrift with and share clothes with and paint nails together and all the things I used to do with my best friend. i've let her go. Now i'm ready for a best friend again.
Emotional turmoils ok, as long as you are willing to work on yourself.
Baggage from other best friends, accepted but i will make you feel like a friend should.
i will bring you food when you are hungry and remember you birthday.
i will not be as flakey as i've been in the past.
I'm ready for a best friend again. Universe: answer my plea. It's getting pretty lonely being the 3rd wheel for everyone elese's BFF relationships. i don't know, maybe i'm kidding myself. Maybe all I can have is 'friends' and not a best friend. It's never worked for me.
But I'm so lonely. Only the blank pages listen to me anymore.

go with the flow, yo

Flow Yoga.

Terrifying and fierce. Gentle and reassuring. Deep and spiritual. Why am I the one that cries at the end of yoga sessions? I don't know why, but it is very triumphant for me to be in that class and challenge myself and make it to the end like everyone else. I've come so far and yet I still have so long to go. Laying in repose, after the stretching and challenging to myself, I thought about Richard. I thought about how I wish he was here to see the changes i've made in my life. And then I wept softly as the lights got dimmer and i dissapeared into myself. Breathing in and out like a mantra. Sending waves of sorrow and waves of joy into the unknown where he's sleeping, or swimming or writing poetry or sailing away in the clouds. Heaven is on earth, i think, when I look up into the sky, into that beautiful blue, or i look into my lovers eyes, or I hear my child laugh or just see her smile. Life is for living, growing, doing, and laying in repose and loving it all. 14 days. 2 days down, and I feel like a new person already.

After yoga, i was blissed out. We went out for dinner then to the Suite art show at the Belmont. It was supercool. P was really excited to be there and I saw a print I want so BADLY that is just like my bike! Pink and white and it even has doves around it. We are going to go back and get it next week at the 1976. I can't wait to hang it on my wall! We also ran into CJ and jabbed about thangs. Love him. Ran into Suzi and jawwed it up too. We finally made our way home and I'm un my jammies and ready to hit the sack. Sleep will be so good tonight, and tomorrow I will be trying Flow Yoga again. Take 2.
Namaste

dirty martinis and red lipstick

Yesterday I went to Zumba for the first time in about a year. It was a blast. I went with my 2 new friends, and although i'm the largest person in the room I felt happy and free and enjoyed the way my body moved so much easier than it used to. It was hard to be faced with all of me, wobbling and out of place, but there was laughter, and acceptance. i accept you body. fat and all. You've gotten me far and I'm making sure that i take care of you so that I can still keep going. So I have a 14 day pass, and I'm going to make the most of it. I think it will be a joy to spend 1 hour a day on myself.

After the workout we walked to the car, thru the neighborhoods at night, smelling elotes, and all the good stuff thats always cooking down in the Bishops. Fel dropped me off and I hit the shower and put on my dress and got down to the Swirl. It seemed pretty quiet and then all of the sudden it was well, madness! I had one glourious dirty martini with four olives. It was like a taste of heaven. I felt so pretty last night, and I got alot of compliments. I am learning to accept them..it's always been hard for me..but now, I just feel so good sometimes about myself, it's like a suprise gift when I like who I am. Almost like a birthday, or a suprise kiss or hug from someone you love. I'm always at my best when I feel like i'm taking care of myself. Anyway, the swirl was great, by the time I read it was pretty thinned out, and I was glad, cause I read a new rewrite that I'm still not satisfied with, but at least it sounded ok. The best part of the Swirl is talking with other poets about thier craft. Oh I can talk all day about writing! I love to hear how other people work, and what they think about the craft, and discussing other writers. The construction of art amazes me. I went to sleep last night dreaming about russian nesting dolls in the shape of all my friends..and we were all fitting inside each other happily, it moved in unending circles, and everyone was fitting into everyone and i smiled myself to sleep thinking, no one gave me this idea..what a wonderful thing imagination is! what a gift to be a writer, even if I don't capitalize everything or write things in proper form. what a gift it is to just want to write and to do it so freely without care of what anyone else thinks. I feel blessed for that. And friends. And zumba. And dirty martinis, and men who stand up when you walk into a room and make you feel beautiful. Thank you, you know who you are. <3

ride like the wind, petticoats and broken sidewalks

What is there to say? Bike rides and broken rusted pipes and crushed cans of energy drink on the sides of the road. i bought my summerdress, it's still very tight, but it looks ok. i found it at the thrift for 10$ with the tags still on. I wore it and out on eyeliner and lipstick and i wore my crazy hair tied back tight. I'm beginning to wear it away from my face.. its intersting to see my face now, really look up close at it and see whats been under the layers for so long. I once weighed 320 pounds. No one believes me, and i don't have any pictures really because i refused to be in them at all. there is one, its blurry and I can scan it. I will do that tomorrow. Anyway. I wore my dress and everything was fine, until i opened up my fat insecure mouth and got myself in trouble. I hate fights. My mind gets mixed up and I can't remember why I was mad in the first place so I just cry. And i get on my bike and go..crying all the way up the streets with my dress flying up around me, and my eyeliner running and I think about all the horrible things I say and the way I treat the people I love. Sometimes I can feel the crazy rising up in me. For years pushing it down and away and plastering a smile on my face. I'm a mess. I ride to my friends house and I feel like an intruder but the fan feels good and there is bottle water and I wash my face in the sink and I stop crying about things I can't change.

Today, the doctor tells me nothing, just draws more blood and tells me he will call me with the answer, if there is any. I rode my bike to the office and back, and I notice how much greener all the green is when its up close..i mean you can smell the green of spring in the grass and trees, and when it's hot the shade you roll by refreshes you for the moment with its lush blanket.. I ride slow on the way back, I ride steady and look at every detail of each manicured lawn, half open window with curtains fluttering in and out of the windows. I cut through the park, and a lonely duck cusses at me as I whirl by, I quack back and he flips around and shows me his duck tail ass and dissapears under the lagoon water. The park is desolate, and the streets are being torn apart by big machines and men with hard hats. I wish myself invisible as by now I am huffing and puffing like only a fat girl on a bike can. Finally I give up and hop off the bike and walk it up the incline to the main road. I'm glad that I have taken my time as I look up into the trees and see the squirrles following each other up and down the trunks in spiral staircase fashion, flipping from branch to branch in thier own symphony of movement..so graceful and quiet. The wind is torrential..at least it pushes on me and pulls my bandanna off my head with a great force.. i manage to grab it as it flys behind me..its funny that someone recognises me as i hop back on my bike on the main road..they are yelling from thier balcony.. 'Ohhhpalleeenaaahhh don't get blowwnnn awaaaaay!' and I wave and smile and pedal back home, thankful for water, a half carton of left over pad thai, and a warm sweater on my shoulders.

Last night a power breaker went off and we were out of light for hours. First we sat on the porch and talked to the neighbors that were in the same predicament, then we sat alone and silent, still akward from our argument from earlier that day. It always takes 24 hours before it seems normal again. 24 hours of going thru the motions. cleaning the house, and the dishes and the laundry and doing the things a woman is supposed to do. Subserviant pennance for being out of line, I do this to myself, not one expects it. Its what mom did. It's what I do, and if my daughter pays attention she'll inherit this same bullshit move. I don't know why. I stay out of the way, don't ask for anything. make a stellar meal or two, it makes me feel better. maybe i'm not that crazy, i think, afterall i can run a house ok. i can make a dinner and clean a dirty shirt. control. control. when i ride my bike, i am in control, if i cant pedal i get nowhere. if i pedal fast i can get there quicker. if I pedal slow i can be steady and take my time just for myself. no one leaves the argument before me. control. control. one day i'm going to give up. one day i'm going to let go..it gets so tiring to be in control. and then i end up at my friends house in tears drinking all thier water and slopping up thier sofa with all my snot and tears. This wind is my whirlwind. How would you feel with the wind slapping you around like this all the time? well thats how it feels.

i feel restless like the cat moving from one chair to the next. somehow its all suppossed to get better. i guess i just have to keep on moving in order to find it.

goodbye march, hello sexy

Goodbye March. I have the joy of sharing with you that I have got 3 more pieces published. I just found out last night after we rolled in after the Great Dan Savage experience at The Kessler. I can't imagine a nicer, more honest and frank person who give his advice so freely and unapologeticlly. I can't help but think that boy he had a hell of a mom. He is just a prince. I even asked him a question privately about talking about sex with my daughter.. and he gave me reassurance that i was doing it right (!!!!) and boy what a load off my shoulders. I come from an upbringing that NEVER talked about anything sexual. For my 12th birthday I was given a copy of ' Are you there god, it's me margaret' and that was the extent of my sexual teaching. I don't know how I got where I have, and I am lucky I didn't make any mistakes. But for the most part I was terrified of any kind of sexuality until I hit about 18, and then all bets were off. I'm glad and I thank the universe I didn't get myself killed somehow. AIDS was rampant, and so was Acid and X and all sorts of stuff that could get you preggo or killed. So if anything my parents made me terrified of sex, so I guess there is that! Today I returned to my new doctor only to find out that i GAINED 12 fucking pounds in 3 weeks. Red light. They ran all sorts of tests, and are asuming its the medication, which was changed today..but I just got a letter that they want to run MORE tests on me on Monday. I'm not worried, yet. But I def feel like something might be up. I had a pap, and a pregnancy test. (negatory.. thank goodness, but for 10 minutes I ran over the thought of holding a baby in my arms again, changing diapers, teaching it to walk, talk, read and getting it to the Presidency) About 7 years ago I went baby crazy and I just thought I'd die if I didn't have another one. I had some losses, and I gave up. It's not an issue for me anymore, because I meet young parents with little ones and I can just spoil them and coddle them all I want, buy them clothes and books and talk to them all day until they go home. It's like a surrogate granny. Oh I know I'm going to be a good granny someday, at least I hope I get a chance to be. Ok where is this blog going? oh yeah So more tests on monday. I dunno. I feel really good. I love my klonopin, in fact I feel more like my old self (we are talking way back in my 20s) again. I don't know if I could function on this level without something, but for safety sake i'm booking an appointment with a shrink, so maybe just maybe I can get all this worked out. I've got a lot of living to do and I'm ready to get this on the ball. Tonight, conjuntos at The Kessler. Hell Yeah. I may be dateless, but i'll dance my ass off. Gotta get this poundage lost somehow. And tomorrow the kids reading, so I have to go buy some clementines like the last time, the kids ate them up! I'm sure there is more I need to say, and in a more poetic way since this is National Poetry Month! (hooray) so I'll write this little one right now: wind rakes my hair with its whispiness i am a dandelion with a million wishes waiting to exhale pluck me from my concrete curb crack lay me on my back and let me tumble like a bob dylan song over the meadow and onto the rusted traintracks i breathe and i'm ready to swept away... eos.