Forever Young: 06/26/12

Blog Manifesto

This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

my day.

you ever get a sick sinking feeling?
the one in the pit of your stomach..
the one that warns something is gonna happen.. something less than pleasant
the one that tells you what you dont want to happen.. will

i got that feeling

ya know.. today was turning out to be such a nice day.
reese.. my weekend was boring.. well not boring to me, just uneventful..
so im going to talk about today.

sun shining
nice and cool
friends chatting freely and openly.. sharing.. unburdening..
being what friends are supposed to be.. positive and supportive.

then i got the sick feeling.
nevermind. i will think about it later.. i have things to do today.
so it gets shelved.

fast forward an hour
i let the dogs out
run upstairs for my shoes
and i hear a yelp.
no worries.. i ask bax casually.. what's up with oli, why is he crying?

oli?.. here boy.. wanna treat? i gotta go.. where you at? olimon?
no answer.. no oli
he isnt inside
he isnt outside in the enclosed yard
gates are shut tight
no holes dug under the fence
he isnt stuck in the garden
or under the bed
or in Bianca's room
or in the basement
or in the shower
or under the deck
or under the shed

PANIC
someone fucking took my dog

hop in the car.. bax, ok buddy.. lets find your bro
nabes on the march
me cruising in the car
two blocks down.. BEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP 'he's in your backyard!'

RELIEF
the dog that can decapitate 24 bottles of vacuum packed water with barely a rip in the plastic couldnt seem to push the door to the compost bin back open after going in and the wind closed it behind him. and not a peep from him when i walked by calling him over and over. >.> GAH

fast forward
im at work
playing piano to kill time as i wait patiently for the new student to arrive for her first lesson at 3pm.
my mind is preoccupied with that sick feeling again.
and im in no mood to deal with rude, inconsiderate people who seem to love wasting my time.

3:00 passes
3:10
3:20
3:25 RING RINGGG
i pick up the phone and give my usual greeting, knowing full well who it is on the other end
a casual voice says..
'hi, this is blahdee blah, and i have a voice lesson today that i need to cancel'

oh, the lesson scheduled for 3pm today?

'ohhhh, was it 3? i thought it was 3:30.'
not even an apology.. >.>

and here is where i nearly blow a gasket. i want to say.. lady, it doesnt matter.. 3 or 3:30, it is still last minute. instead of doing my usual swallow my pride and offer a reschedule routine.. through noticably gritted teeth i say something i have never said before in all my years of teaching..
well, blahdee blah, i am not taking any new students at this time. if you are still interested in the fall, there may be some openings. registration is blah blah blah. you may call then. thank you and have a nice day. good bye.

and my 3:30 student didn't even show. -.-
figured i would make it a real winner of a day and call my brother again.
he actually answers.. and says.. 'go fuck yourself' after i say three little words.. i love you.
guess he thinks im somehow being self-righteous :/

so.. the sick feeling returns. and i have time on my hands to think about why.
i feel this long goodbye.. tumbling out before me
after talking about children and parenting and enabling and pleasantries today..
i cant help but feel like i am somehow being firmly but gently thrust from the nest.

i feel tears. my fucking hem wont do..
there is no comfort for this.. pain
it never hurt this much when i left home.

well, i dont want to go dammit.

i belong here..

dont i?