Plastic Box

Emergence

It's been a summer...which is, coincidentally, the name of a Newfound Glory song I've been listening to over and over and over again since Memorial Day weekend.

 

To recap, I just got back on Thursday from a FABULOUS work trip to Chicago, seen here in this view I snapped from the 95th floor of the Hancock Tower. Preeeeeetty:

Maren and Rob graciously invited me over for dinner and I finally got to meet Mikey and Juniper!

 

In other news, I'm continuing with the counseling sessions and I think that Jon is going to start attending with me. I won't overshare here in this space, but it's a huge part of what's going on with me...with us...right now.

 

On a lighter note, have you SEEN this site?? Or...am I...just...nerdy? GRAPHJAM

 

 

"What do your roosters say?"

omg omg omg omg

David Sedaris has released another book of essays, called When You Are Engulfed in Flames. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! This on the heels of Augusten Burroughs' release of A Wolf at the Table.

Eenie meenie miney mo... which twisted, funny, disturbing memoir do I read first?! Okay, that didn't rhyme, but please to forgive.

If you haven't read either of these gentlemen's works I encourage you to do so, and if you say The Santaland Diaries I will point you back to the library. While it is hilarious and wonderful in its own right, it doesn't capture the poignant, sensitive Sedaris that is just as rewarding as the comedic one.

And if anyone has struggled with, thought they might know someone who has, or just think addiction is an interesting topic, read Burroughs' Dry.

In the meantime I'm going to try and find a way to schedule in "fun reading" this summer. Carry on.

The Joy of Monday

Okay...the joy of THIS particular Monday.

The sun is shining, I got me some purdy new front teef at the dentist, I won another "major" award at work (That's four this month. Woot! Mama needed some new teef!), and my husband is bringing home sparkling wine to drink with my leftover mac 'n cheese.

After all the shit shit shit that's been tumbling around in my head and in my world for the past few months, I am putting it all aside tonight to find and enjoy the gifts of this day. All those demons can come back tomorrow because I am full up for the rest of the night.

I've been lame about picture-posting too, so here are some snaps from early-summer activities so far.

Duct Tape Festival - Jon got yelled at by a Boy Scout leader for molesting a duct tape statue of a mermaid (see below), and we went on a treasure hunt to win...more...duct tape.

House - Glorious summer has arrived and doused us in green.

Sex and the City movie with Erin and a work happy hour in Coventry - Thus begins my overscheduling. I can't help it. I am a flitting social butterfly.

COMING UP....work trip to Chicago to finally meet Maren's son Mikey and new daughter Juniper. We'll squeeze work in around that sort of fun stuff. ;)

Adieu.

Hourglass

While on the poetry kick, I thought I'd share one that I wrote for my dear Marti, whom I've known my entire adult life thus far...all (almost, but not quite) 12 years of it. Someone who will always know me and someone for whom I would do anything. Some friendships are funny like that.

For Marti

They hug goodbye sometimes
And wave through windows.

They’ve been through comings and goings,
Highs and lows,

And it’s hard to say
How many tears were joy or sorrow,
But all were shared between these two,
Making up for childhoods apart.

There are few who understand “always”,
But look here and you will find it.
For theirs is the road that fades into the sunset
With bends and valleys,
But no end.

The Sum of Her

I have things to write and pictures to post, but they will have to wait. Until then, I give you three summer poems that I wrote several years ago, living in my dusty but most favorite apartment in German Village. In the years since I left, every time summer rolls around I think of that place...

These aren't incredibly good, but...eh...they fit the season.

Almost Light and Purple

Standing at the lilac bush this morning
I have my hands thrust full up to the wrist
In the wet, cool petals just barely purple.
Last night’s rain has soaked their heavy, fragrant bunches
Scattered on the bush,
And the cool, captured raindrops spill in rivers down my elbows
As I move my fingers through the flowers.
I can’t imagine being happier
Anywhere in the world
Than exactly where I am at this moment,
Hands full
And nose wet.

Firefly

I saw my first firefly of the summer last night.
Odd,
How late in June already.
A single flash of light
But no others followed, as they usually do.
A lone traveler
Like me.
It feels great to sweat after midnight,
The dark and the heat not logically a pair.

I left my sandals on the doorstep
And dragged my dirty feet up the stairs,
Reluctant
Because I wanted to curl up outside.
I don’t care about the stars
Or the moon.

It’s all about the earth between my toes,
Its heat forming a barrier
Between me and all things celestial.
Sweat, dirt, grass, fireflies,
The lowdown freedoms
You can touch
and smell
and breathe.

Upon Waking

The sun rose this morning and tore the sky
In strips of magenta and purple.
It was my joy that made it rise
Because I could not sleep,
Thinking of you.

End of a (short, half-assed) era

If anyone has attempted or is thinking about going to www.badfitgoods.com, you will notice that it has gone the way of the parrot (for all you Monthy Python fans):

"He has ceased to be! He's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! He's a stiff! Bereft of life, he rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im to the perch he'd be pushing up the daisies! His metabolic processes are now history! He's kicked the bucket, he's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!"

Despite lack of time, energy, and motivation to run a side business...I learned that I really hate Web design and all things involved with maintaining an independent site. Apparently I have a very "will you start my orange" attitude toward this whole Interweb deal.

Stil sewing and crafting, just...not advertising. You know, to the three of you who found the site in the first place. ;)

Hot and Bothered

I was outside sunning myself just now, but when my bikini bottoms started melting into the chair cushion I decided to move this operation inside. Still hot but it's that good summer feeling, of not caring about being sweaty, catching maple-seed "helicopters" in the palm of your hand, walking barefoot until the bottoms are dark.

The hummingbirds love the feeders that Jon has hung outside the kitchen and I'm watching them as I should be working, cleaning up administrative tasks that I haven't had time to finish these past few crazy months. The hornets aren't falling for the "Fatal Funnels" that we stuck in old mik jugs and I'm tracing their spiteful patterns across the shady deck where I want to be working. It's all so beautiful here.

I started counseling yesterday and I debated whether or not to write anything about it here. But as I am certainly not the only person, even within my tightest circle of friends, who is going through some major issues right now, I thought what-the-heck. I hope that by sharing some of the "homework" that Dr. Mary gives me, we can all grow from this experience, my dishing on her couch on Saturday mornings about marriage, work, and trying to be a big girl.

So let the summer of 2008 commence! I can honestly say that it's the biggest unknown I've yet to face, and there's so much to feel about that.

Tinder

"Love is fire. But whether it's gonna warm your heart or burn your house down you can never tell."

- Jason Jordan

Grip of the black death

Ick. And also, blech.

I have been mega-sick for about 5 days now and I'm very much tired of it, kthanks. Ready to be well again! Floors need vacuuming! Errands need running! And my cubicle? It misses me.

This is what I get for my long-running proclamation: "Oh, I never get sick!" And I didn't use to. But this year, this FABULOUS 2008 (she says, thick with sarcasm) has been riddled with little bugs. Ah well.

Despite the thickness in my throat on Sunday I made the trek to Chrissy's lake house to see my girls, do some boating, and just generally hang out on the dock and in patio chairs near a bonfire. Here are a few pics, but you'll have to forgive the sparseness. Blame it on the frikkin Andromeda Strain that I have contracted.

On Saturday night, I went to see Eddie Izzard with Michele and Jenna. Our seats were Right. Down. Front. Eeeeee! I'll post pics from that experience as well. I will, I swear!

Lovey

I had a great one today and it just so happens to be the title of one of my favorite poems.

So there.

Morning
by Billy Collins

Why do we bother with the rest of the day,
the swale of the afternoon,
the sudden dip into evening,
then night with his notorious perfumes,
his many-pointed stars?

This is the best—
throwing off the light covers,
feet on the cold floor,
and buzzing around the house on espresso—
maybe a splash of water on the face,
a palmful of vitamins—
but mostly buzzing around the house on espresso,

dictionary and atlas open on the rug,
the typewriter waiting for the key of the head,
a cello on the radio,
and, if necessary, the windows—

trees fifty, a hundred years old
out there,
heavy clouds on the way
and the lawn steaming like a horse
in the early morning.