Archive | June, 2006


I would give anything to not have to move tonight.

Or for it to happen without me.

I have no qualms about cleaning, about setting up house, about getting everything all straightened out.  But moving, with the chaos, and the mess, and the dogs, and the cats, and the people in and out, and trying to get everything set up for The Boy to come spend the weekend with us..

.. sigh.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel.

I just pray it’s not got a locomotive behind it.

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Love Letter for Bryan, #467

I told you last night that I did not have a list for you.  That if you were to walk away tomorrow, and I wanted to jot down things about you that I never, ever wanted to forgot or grow bitter against, I would be at a loss.

Because you are not things to me.  You are not places.  You are not movies, or songs, or activities.

And you were right; in the beginning, you were a list.  I had a list that was “you.”  It had things on there like “lime green jello” and “peeps soup” and “chicken wings” that now mean NOTHING to me.  I have no idea how we came upon those, or what they meant, or why I still chuckle when I read them.  I saw your Peep hanging from your mirror the other day and wondered, “Why in the hell did I give him that?”

What I have for you are simply emotions.  I say “simply”, but they’re not simple.  And I’m afraid that, should you walk away tomorrow, I would forever be changed in so many ways with no way to thank you.  So I try and thank you each and every day, in small little fashions, and hope that you fall asleep knowing how much you are truly appreciated.

You have been patient with me when I was stubborn.  You have been kind to me when I was unloving.  You have been calm to me when I was a whirlwind.  Learning to live with a boy was much harder than I anticipated; you made it so much easier by being you and letting me be me.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I have never been the helpless little damsel.  I have never been incomplete, searching for some final piece to my puzzle.  But you have made it easy to let myself be loved, and your love is milk and honey in a concrete world.

I contemplated last night, when you stirred and pulled me closer to you, how I had shunned any kind of affection before you.  I did not like to cuddle.  I did not like being touched.  I did not like anyone inside of my space bubble.  But your “forbidden” forehead kisses and wide arms have made me rethink how I like to be loved.  I love your hands in my hair, and I can’t sleep without my head on your chest.  These things are new; these are things I want forever.

Tonight, we move into OUR first house.  We will be tired, exhausted, with terrified and nervous animals, and most likely I will be ready to pull my hair out because I don’t know where my socks are, but I know that, in the end, we will fall asleep next to eachother, ready to start this next chapter.  And things will be fine.  Good, even.

And we will spend Friday making a list of things we need to do.  That’s the only list I need.

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Lil things

We moved for HOURS last night.  My arms are on fire.  My back is in knots.  And HOO-RAY, we have another two to three good hours to do again tomorrow night.

But.. it’s pretty cool.  Our new house, I mean.  It’s growing on me. 

I ADORE THE NEIGHBORHOOD.  A friend of ours who does amazing theatre lives a few houses down.  And HE has a front porch with a swing.  I’m so crashing it.  It was very cool, as we unpacked our stuff last night, to see throngs of people just walking through the neighborhood.  I love eclectic places.  This is it.

OOOOH, and.. AND.. we can walk to Sazio!!  Man, I love the whole “walking” aspect.  I’m a hippie at heart.

We can still use a bit of man power this Thursday night, should anyone feel so inclined.. it’s REALLY not that much to move.  We did a helluva lot of work last night (THANKS AGAIN, LIGHTHALLS!), so it’s really just moving our bedroom, the stuff in the shed, and the patio furniture.  Wow.. that’s really NOT a lot.

However, we have one obstacle that we have no idea how to overcome: our deaf dog, Mabel, has taken to barking.  Incessantly.  All the time. (Which is redundant, but that just shows you HOW MUCH she’s been barking.) At nothing.  To the point that she wakes us up, religiously, at six a.m. with uncontrolled barking.  Just standing there, barking.  Now, she’s deaf, so us yelling does nothing.  We have to physically drag our asses out of bed to shake our fingers at her.

I don’t think this will fly with the new neighbors.

We’ve considered a “shock” collar (with a low, LOW voltage), but the people at PetSmart judged me when I told them she was deaf.  “We don’t condone putting this one deaf animals,” they told me. (If Mabel woke THEM up every morning at 6, they would most certainly condone a whole number of things, half of which are probably illegal in this state.) Our friend, Nina, used a citronella-spraying collar on her dog, but I can’t IMAGINE the smell of citronella occupying the house.

So if you have suggestions, fling ’em on out here.

In other, departing news.. I will be appearing (along with Steph and Keboobalah) in Shel Shorts with RT’s Alpha Stage, later this summer.  Pretty stoked about that.  So after you venture out to see “Seussical”, you should come see a raunchy, adult show.  Sounds like fun, huh?

That is all.

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Adam & Eve v.2

All day yesterday, I had a melody from “Children of Eden” stuck in my head.  I had no idea why.

Then, after we had sweat and worked for several hours, and finally were relaxing in the backyard around a lantern, it hit me..

It’s time to make a home
Heaven knows the life’s been hard
Summers brief and arid
Winters bleak and numb

Look what we call home
These old walls are stained and scarred
I can still remember
What each scar was from

You could call it run down
Worn out
And I guess you’d come
Close to home

And I remember, in someone else’s garden long ago
We had all we could eat
But it seems the fruit our own hands grow
Somehow tastes twice as sweet

On this barren plot
We’ll plant our wheat and dig our well
And we’ll be a family
Steady as a star

Look at what we’ve got
Only what we’ve made ourselves
Though it’s next to nothing
Look how rich we are

Funny now how Eden doesn’t seem so far

Come sit besides me in the dying light
What storms the morning brings, we’ll weather all right
Your hand in my hand
And as we sit here, huddled in the gloam
Paradise seems strangely close
Close to home

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Although I may write more later, right now all I can muster is:


Thanks, guys.

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