Amy reminded me of this memory

I knew the wedding was not going to happen on the beach as planned. I saw your anxiety mix into the darkening sky overhead. "It will still be beautiful," I said. "Rain is romantic! You're getting married." You kind of frown and that worried look of uncertainty I've become familiar with can be seen on your face. Your lips kinda smush to the side and it looks you're tasting something bad. Plans had changed to move the ceremony from the beach to the event center where the dinner was to be held. It really is romantic though, the crisp sea air, the green that has come alive all around wooden docks stretching across the water. The light is not harsh, but like that of an illuminating candle. Your satin white is sharp against the gray surrounding you. We start to file into the cramped volvo. It begins to drizzle and we stuff you and your beautiful gown into the backseat of the car like a creampuff. I'm sitting beside you and Andrea. It seems like every time we try to get out of the car the rain starts again. Not just soft rain, but bursts of showers. "Okay, okay, lets just sit in the car for awhile." we all say and agree.
I swear as soon we try to open the car door again it becomes instantly wet outside again. So we sit there after each attempt and wait. The currents of nerves running through this volvo is as steadily present as the rain. We are a vehicle full of charged and nervous energy radiating out into the rain. We are trying to figure out a way to park and get out of the car as quickly as possible. This becomes frustrating and Andrea starts shouting. I don't even remember what she yells but it was something like "WELL WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE GONNA PARK?!" It's deserving of the caps lock because it's that dramatic. This negative tone is too much and I snap back with "WHOA. You don't need to shout like that. This is Amy's wedding." You thank me for laying down the law later. Andrea shuts her mouth and seems to realize you need peace. Silence and then eyes turned toward you. Your eyes are closed and you take a deep breath.

"I just need everybody to be quiet for me, " you say very softly. We respect this wish before we all spring out of the car into the wet Bodega Bay air like crazy bridesmaid jack-in-the-volvos. We huddle into a small room that seems like it's made for huddling or I guess storing your coat and purse in. Spattered on and chattering, we surround you and try to calmly breath together. A protective bridesmaid circle with misty curls and bare, goosebumped arms. Here we are. We tell you how beautiful you look. You do. You are ready. We are ready. You smooth your dress and hair and rattle out a big sigh. "I need something on my lips!" you say. Bridesmaids begin digging for color enhancement.
"Oh! I have a pretty lipgloss. Here!" I think you'll like this shade. You do. It's a soft and subtle pink with just enough shine and it reminds me of you. You spread its stickiness over your lips and add the final touch. In this moment I really feel like your'e my sister. Welcome to the family dear! Now let's get inside and do this. Let's get you married to my brother.

Romantic barf

Romantic Barf:
We went to Stacy's 4th of July party. There were good times and drinks to be had. Many drinks for you to have apparently. I didn't think you had that many until we reached my parent's house. You and I basically lived together there, which was great that we could but, um, yeah....my parents lived there too. I parked in the carport outside and opened the gate gently as not to alert loud and friendly dogs. I imagined my dog Luna's sharp bark fogging up the window and Harlow's fat blonde tail thumping against the gate and her short snout snorting in delight. Creak. No barks or tail thumping. Success! I started walking briskly down the stone pebble stairs to the front door. I'm used to this descend, but to a drunk person it may seem like a long and dangerous path.
"Whoa, baby you're going too fast for me!" I heard you calling behind me. Oops, oh yeah, here let me help you. I walk back up some stairs and you throw your big arm around my shoulders. Okay, there we go. Now we are steadily stumbling down. I open the front door carefully. No barks or tail thumping. You stagger into my bedroom and crash onto my bed like a fallen tree, limbs sprawled out. Your shoes aren't even off. If you were still at the party I believe you would have been the victim of sharpie assault to the face. Who knows what sort of penises (peni?) and swear words you could have woken up to.
Your face is smushed in my pillows and then you roll over and groan. Oh my beer infused lover. I smooth my palm over your forehead and say, "I think you should eat something. I'm gonna make you some food."
At the mention of food, a look of sweaty desperation crosses your face and it looks as though everything in your stomach is curdling in disgust and is ready to leap right out of you. You make some kind of awful garble sound and slap your hand over your mouth and spring up from the bed. Oh god. You almost look like your skiing towards the bathroom, but you don't quite make it there...
In the true spirit of Independence day you barf out fireworks onto the hallway walls. Stars and stripes all over the floor, the door, the bathroom rug, the side of the tub. You barf pretty much everywhere BUT the toilet. The bathroom, by the way, is right beside my dad's bedroom.
and oh my god as horrendously repulsive as this all seems, I am laughing, laughing, laughing. I am holding back squeals because you are this fine gigantic specimen of a man and you are uncontrollably bursting from your face like some foul pinata. Finally you reach the toilet and unleash some more of your stomach's rejected 4th of July BBQ. You make the most gutteral and violent sounds from deep within your throat and the side of your cheek is pressed against cold, white bowl of everything you've eaten and drank in the past few hours. Poor baby. I rub your back and keep laughing. I think of girls who might shriek in these situations or just let the alcohol poisoned suffer alone. It smells fucking terrible, but I love you and in its own strange way this is a special moment. You are vulnerable and slurring your words and hacking up an awful mess but I'm there for you because I know you would be for me. Let it all out to let someone all in, right?

different

Move for me

I miss feeling like a good person and I hate all these emo posts. I'm not sure if I'm a good writer when I'm really happy though.

see..? Emo again! argh. 2013 is to come clean. It even rhymes...meant to be. Shit! What do I do? I know what to do, but what to say? Why'd I make things so tangled and piled up for myself. I guess I've always been like that.

How could you
When I cant even
take my own word for it?
I'm going to
Okay maybe not
I'll do it then
Yeah, we'll see
My thoughts circle around
the spokes of my troubles
but there is no going forward
and all though it's crazy to see
me spinning in place,
It's actually pretty boring.
Sweating over not going anywhere.
I guess all this is at least a form of exercise,
when I'm ready to be the person I can be.

Don't get jealous now,
It wasn't right.
Was it?
No, but for a time.
For a time it felt that way,
that way that you used to
that I and we when it existed,
used to.
I forgot what it was like to be wrong,
to be afraid to be hurt,
afraid you wont call or put me at ease.
Did I ever make you feel like that?
Sure,
probably.
I have a hard time with change.
You know that,
but I really do like it,
when I realize that it's been awhile since it changed.
Everything seemed to fall in my lap
when I got up from yours.
Of course I cried,
all the time,
then here and there,
and then at odd times.
It's not like you can expect anyone to wait.
Would I even want to be with a man that waded through his sorrows
and spent his years in a state of guilty patience?
The answer is Nope.
I thought you were the love of my life,
but my life changed and so did yours,
and it still will.
How many forevers will I have?

Big cup of coffee, made it myself. Well not really, but I put the grounds in the little filter thing and the little filter thing went into the mouth of the top of the coffee maker thing and it did its thing and now I'm drinking the product of that, and its DeLiCiOuS. Now I'm trying to make myself pretty while I don't really listen to the tv. Soon I will take far too long to pack only a couple nights worth of clothes and movies and fun things to bring for friends kinda far away. Ahhhh....a nice little road trip by myself. Over into Santa Cruz's misty redwoods. Cold, fresh, air. 2 hours of loud music that I chose. Lunch I packed. It's the little things.

In the depths of something deep,
I don't know where, but I know its away,
I call out to where you can not hear,
& Memories tell me what you would say.
I hope hollow conversation does not follow you
Wherever you are speaking,
I hope for words as full as your heart,
that you find the peace you are seeking.
It's strange to be lost without moving
but you are still you,
Created to love and be loved-
and for this your life's worth proving.

a good pickup line

baby if you let me I'll hold you like a good conversation

Resolutions

No meddling
No looking
Kill the curiosity
of burnt bridges
Just focus on the inside
Leave the past
Don't be afraid
to be better
Don't be scared
of yourself
Don't swallow pain
and expect it not to come back
You wouldn't have to rush
if you weren't late so much
Find meaning
in the unexpected
the simple
the sweet
Be unapologetic
No sorry's to carry around
Be good this year.

Lessons from Donnie Darko

The end of the world is the day you die.

It's hard to be so contradictory sometimes
a shy waitress
a lazy smart
affectionate and distant
open and closed off
a terrible communicator
who wants to reach everyone
I want to be in the social center
and left alone all the same
I want you to look at me
but not too hard
I want to laugh and talk for hours
but I don't want you to sit with me when I'm eating
but I do...
I want you to answer all my questions
but keep me guessing
give me your love
but don't just give it to me
I want to be known
but not criticized
I want to be grounded
I want to escape
I want to be honest
but I heard the truth hurts
I dont want to hurt
but Im bored if I dont
I want to be the best version of me
but I'm afraid of it
I don't know what I want

My family used to get sandwiches every Friday from this one deli in Lafayette. I finally got my license when I was 17 and this meant every Friday I became the chauffeur of sandwiches. Every Friday I'd go in and see my deli man behind the counter. Dark hair, thick eyelashes, deep gaze. Italian and cool looking. Yeah, I'll buy your meat. He didn't make the sandwiches though, he sold the slabs. Slab of beef, Slab of what's that, Slab of pickled This, Slab of corned That. So I always saw him, but never actually spoke to him. I know he saw me too. Every Friday for a couple of years. I looked forward to it, I saw him smile and looking forward to it too when those automatic doors let me inside. I'd order the sandwiches from someone else, but I'd be looking at him. He'd be looking at me too.

     Of the many times I did this he actually came out from behind the deli counter once which made me think of when the wizard of Oz is revealed to be only but a man. He was shorter than I thought but still pretty damn cute. I'm also shyer than I thought so when he did come out I actually redirected my shopping cart and pretended to be invested in finding an ingredient. Oh my god you wiener says my thoughts. Shut up my defensive self says back. I guess he didn't take my awkward reaction personally though because the next Friday we are staring at each other again. Someday I'll know his name. He will know mine. Give it a couple years-say when I'm like...20. More confidence than when I was 17, more experience, more style, more expectations, more of an idea of what I want-but not very much. I'd been away at school for awhile in a city where my deli man didn't work so when I came home for the summer, I was ready to pick up some sandwiches. I pause in my car before going in. Just say hi to him! I counseled myself in the car. Today's the day. It's been like 3 years. But what if it's like one of those things that is just better kept as an exciting, distant, flirtation? You know, like that friend you always thought was kinda cute and might be a good kisser, but nothing has ever happened because lust doesn't always translate into the future. What if- Shut up my defensive self says again. Go say hi, you wuss.

Defensive me ironically is a bully too. So I select a cart, go in, and get straight to ordering sandwiches. He sees me. We see each other. Same old staring game trying to hide little passing smiles. While I wait for sandwiches I shop around and think of how I'm going to say hi. I think so much about it that I don't even realize I've picked up the sandwiches and paid for everything and left. Shit! Now how are you going to say hi? I pack everything into the trunk and then come up with what I think is a wonderful excuse to go back inside. I need to buy a Red Bull. Oh yeah, I forgot...So I go buy one. Yep that's all I go back to buy. I take a sip hoping I will get "wings" of confidence. Then I walk up to his counter. There's an old couple in front of me. Another deli man asks if he can help me and I awkwardly shake my head no and point to my deli man. I think he might have seen me do that. He quickly helps the old couple and then *finally* we are face to face. This is what I say with a shaky voice: "Hi, um I don't really need to buy anything, I've just always seen you here and I think you're really cute, so, I just wanted to tell you that. Um, yeah."
He smirks and says "Yeah I've always thought you were cute too." I smile and try to keep eye contact. Alright...so...Well uh can I get your number then?"
   Yes! I write it on a napkin and smile like a lunatic when I get inside my car. He waits for the designated guy code of days (3) to call me. We talk for a long time. It's a fun conversation. What you like, what I like. Do you know who I know? Where'd you go to school? How old are you? Crazy that we're talking now. I'm excited about all of this of course. I tell my brother the story but when I tell him my deli man's name he instantly frowns. My brother recalls going to school with my deli man. Deli man was a dick to him and many others apparently. Well I'm kind of used to going out with dicks so I shrug it off. But we had such a good conversation! He's so cute! Maybe he's changed. People can change a lot in a few years. Yeah or maybe you should have just left it as it was-an attraction every Friday. Shut up. 

So I gave him a chance. He called me a few times and then after a few phone conversations I asked when we would hang out. He said we would soon and I was ready to, but it just wouldn't happen. He kept calling me though so I didn't understand. I started to get frustrated and he could tell. "Hey I just want you to know I think you're a sweetheart, and kind of a nerd, but I've kind of been seeing someone so that's why we haven't hung out yet. But she's not really someone I'm that into so" I cut him off here because I don't need to hear anymore and now I'm just pissed. "What the fuck, why'd you even get my number then? Why have we been talking?"
"Whoa, don't get so mad."
"Well that's unfair to that girl, you should just end it if you're doing shit like that."
"Who are you, the relationship police?"
Then I tell him exactly what I think of him with a string of swear words in there so he will take back about what he said about me being a nerd sweetheart and I hang up on him. I realize I got way more angry than I should have but at this point in my life I'm extremely frustrated by the bullshit of dating. I can't just say the bullshit of men because women have their very own brand of bullshit.
I'm pissed because my gut was right, but defensive self says At least you tried. How would you have known? Maybe later in life you would have been pissed that you never were bold enough to say hi to that deli guy. This scenario does not dictate your results for the future. 
So I keep trying to find someone special to say hi to. I fail some more. I have fun and get hurt. I walk away, but I come back.

A few years later I go get sandwiches and bring my exceptionally sexy boyfriend who I happen to be crazy about and happens to be crazy about me with me. I swear it's not to smite deli man, my family just still loves these sandwiches and deli man man still happens to work there. He looks irritated and I wonder for a quick second if I'm being rude with all my public displays of affection with my boyfriend but then I look over at deli man and think Who are you, the relationship police? 

If you can dream it, you can manifest it in the real word.