today

i woke up, tied my running shoes, put on some dryfit, blasted some iTunes and set out for a 7.2 mile run. (maybe not exactly in that order.) but anyway, it was a good run, except for the nagging pain i felt the entire time. where was this pain, you might ask? the arch of my right foot is where. it hurts because a blister the size of montana currently resides there. it moved in last weekend. i think it's gotten to like its new pad.

but, i don't like annoying neighbors.

so, when i got home, i operated. and i punctured that stupid thing with a needle (sterilized, of course.) it began to burst. it squirted 17 times. blood. fluid. water. sweat, maybe. and each time it erupted, it was warm - hot bathwater warm. and it felt good to release the nastiness. so, i didn't mind that blood got all over my white towel and my hand and other places. (okay, i sort of minded that it got on the white towel.)

when i was done with surgery, i slathered it in antibiotic ointment and protected it with a bandage the size of texas. and now, i'm limping around like a rock star. being awesome. and hardcore. and, it hurts like hell.

that's all i've got.

my mirror.

i look
at this slightly shattered,
imperfect
piece
of
glass
and for the first time
i see
pieces of me
that were hidden
behind miles of scars
and
wide
deep
gaping wounds.
but this glass -
this reflection
doesn't veil my face
in lace
or silk.
instead,
it embraces
my imperfection -
making things like
freckles
and a few white hairs
seem beautiful.

acceptance.

i ran 6.3 miles today. a new route. it felt good to pound new pavement. really good. the kind of good that is filled with honey and dew and spring.

it was a perfect morning. mid 60s, breezy and it smelled like flowers. the sun hid itself for the first half of my run - behind slightly stormy clouds. but, on my way back, it showed its face - burning mine slightly. i guess it's freckle season for me again. i used to hate them. ugly. brown. flecks. i don't hate them anymore.

about green things.

i'm aware that green has become the new black. but, i'm still hopeful when i see the amount of media and attention the state of our planet is getting.

two years ago, it would have been nearly inconceivable for a studio executive to be turned on by a pitch for a film dealing with climate change based on a power point presentation given by a former vice president. the only thing green in Hollywood, then, was money.

but things are changing. slowly. and, while it's a bit trendy to be environmentally conscious now, the attention the state of affairs is getting can only be a good thing.

in the midst of progress, though, is severe irony. two days ago, president bush came to kansas city to praise two American car makers for building energy-efficient vehicles. but in the process of getting himself and his entourage here, he burned at least 1,100 barrels of oil. read about it here. good reporting by scott canon. so sad, but sometimes the truth hurts, i suppose.

a note to you, yellow sports-car driver.

If you are driving through Topeka at the highly popular hour of 11 a.m. and you see a funeral in procession, it’s probably not a good idea to cut in front of a car in the procession. It’s actually rude and completely unthinkable. And I secretly wanted to rear end you. I’m glad I didn’t. I hope you realize how selfish your actions were. We cursed you under our breath.

treading water

This weekend, my life changed completely. And, I’m not going to write about it here. Not now. Not yet. But the point of the change is to propel more change. And, I’m already starting to feel the wind — pushing and pulling. It’s making my hair break loose of its rubber bands, and it’s catching my skirt, ballooning it like a parachute.

And as uncomfortable as this newness is. I think I’m going to be okay.

rain

it’s cloudy
and there’s a storm brewing
i can feel it —
in my bones
and joints
and in the way my hair is curling
just slightly at the ends
from thick humidity
that sticks
to my soul.
and I want to open my umbrella
sharp black protection
with brightly colored polka dots
hot pink
yellow
orange -
i want to use it
to protect my skin
to stop the rain
from blurring the tears
making a mess of my face
eyeliner running
black
ugly
marks
covering freckles
signs of youth
gone.
but that would be too easy
and I’d learn nothing from this rain
and maybe, just maybe
the black
ugly
marks
need to be washed away.

it's march, and it's madness

so, north carolina won today. it was a good game. and as ACC tourney champs, the team was bestowed with hats and T-shirts at the end of the game - a victory celebration per say.

as i watched them rejoice on camera, the fact that i am a slighted mizzou fan may not have helped matters. i also may not have been in a conducive viewing environment, as i was watching from the comfort of my new, sexy gym.

you see, my Ipod was my soundtrack to the shots on screen - the crowd going wild, the emotions of the team and the coaches and the cheerleaders. hero shots and shots full of action coupled with lots of jumping, tears and fist pumps - all took place as jose gonzalez played in my ear. i couldn't hear the announcer or the on-court reporting. but that didn't mean i missed a vision that blew me away. minutes after the game ended, an ecstatic north carolina basketball team was almost all clad in tourney T-shirts and winner's hats. the hats still had price tags on them. i imagine the shirts may have, too.

and, even though i wanted to get emotional with them, cry a tear of joy, think about how Roy is great and deserved to win and, perhaps even muster a little yelp, all i could do was bitterly whisper to myself about how putting the winning T-shirt and hat on AT the game, on the court, is much like wearing a concert tour shirt AT the concert it's advertising.

in my head, my rant may have read like the following:

yes, you won. congratulations. yes, you now have a really cool shirt and a hat, which you will probably parade around in later. it will grace the scene at bars and nightclubs and on your college campus, no doubt. but, please, wait to put that oversized shirt and that new, stiff hat on until you've left the arena. because, we know you won. it's obvious. and, we know you look ridiculous in those starched, new, bright white, beacons of winning. they were clean until now. now, they likely suffer the stench of a sweaty gamed out gamer. so, at the very least, now that you've soiled them, wash them before you make a second appearance in the presence of their glory.

i may be wrong. but, i couldn't get past it.

indulging

i'm ashamed to admit that i continued cheating with the sexy gym. and, i couldn't stop. there was just something about it that drew me in - the same way a chocolate bar sitting open on a counter draws me.

i think the most appealing quality was that its hours didn't control me. i could choose. and treadmill lines didn't determine the length of my workout or the miles i would pound out on sore, battered feet. no, it had more options and anyway, i signed up.

on the dotted line.

and now, i have two gym memberships.
i can't get out of my uglier gym until december.
i am totally over indulgent in this, and this alone. but it kind of feels good.

laundry list

that which makes me tick
(or) things i can't live without -
part one


Black T-shirts
Poetry
Music
Words
Sushi
Pickled ginger
Whole Food’s whipped cream
Organic garlic dill cheddar cheese
Fresh baked bread
A few good pair of jeans
Scattergories
Truth
Empathy
Humor
Sarcasm
Corrective lenses
Running shoes
Insoles for my running shoes to correct horrible overpronation
Running
Dryfit
Singing in the car
Interpretive dancing in the car with my sister
Chocolate
Coffee
Spring
Autumn
Creativity
Art
One pair of pointy heels (per oprah's suggestion)
Several pair of flip flops (per comfort's suggestion)
Natural light
Color
Morning
The way the world looks while being blanketed in snow
Memories
Nice-smelling hand lotion
Social and Political awareness
Blue Koi noodle bowls
Crisp, slightly sweet reisling
Being outside
Laughter
The idea of New York
Backrubs
Lazy weekend mornings
Dreams
the em dash

the night and i

i don’t remember
how to sleep
through an entire night
eyes shut
fairytale dreams
occasional nightmare
unrest
nights sweat
alarm clock check
then
return to pillow
feathers
cotton flowers
ah

but not now
— this —
this is different
it’s constant
a pit
where it doesn’t belong
or feel right
it's space heaters
and dry air
it’s dark rooms
and nightlights
it’s constant trips
to the bathroom
or to the faucet
for water
quenching thirsts
that I ignore

it’s tossing
turning
changing
from flannel pants and thermal shirt
to shorts
T-shirt
strip warm socks
put on thin ones
it's adjusting pillows
constantly
it's checking the clock
twice in three minutes
and it’s sinking
this insomnia
this state of constant
struggle
to do something
as simple
as sleep.

dust

at once, the rug is pulled out
and the dust settles
in piles -
hundreds of piles
ugly
dirty
piles
filled with dog hair and pieces of pasta
sweater fuzz
potting soil
shoe leather
dead leaves
and you want to dust it off
make it clean
somehow
again
or for the first time really,
but you don’t know where
you put the broom
or why the dust
seems more familiar
than a broomed floor ever would.
and so, you place the rug
over the dust
with its ornate design
tassels
loomed art for trampling
and your forget
for a minute
about how dirty the floor
has become.

notes to myself.

1. when you're flipping through runner's world and swear you see an old friend in one of the photos, go ahead and freak out. because it's probably really him. and that's really cool.

2. find out how you, too, could appear in an issue of runner's world.

3. perhaps it would be cooler and less egocentric to appear via byline rather than via hero shot.

4. look into this byline bit.

5. do stick with the style of jeans that works best with your body. if that means having the same pair in a few different shades of blue, so be it.

6. instead of running a 7-mile long run through blowing snow and a 10 degree windchill, opt for the treadmill at the gym you're cheating with. it has fans, no time limit, and no mirror in which to watch your every early morning move.

7. turning the mostly unused breezeway into an office was a good idea. buying an area rug for the cold tile floor was a better idea. a wireless router was a brilliant idea. now, all you need is a mac.

words

they’re just words -
these things I set on paper
and hearts
and in my soul.
words made of
clumped letters
become
created meaning
only to join with
commas and periods
and the occasional em dash.

these words
i write.

and they’re alive.
vibrant
glowing
changing
holding deep truths
or nothing at all
anguish
joy
tears
seasons
falling leaves and dying limbs
budding trees
pink
new
birth.