missing

the storm came
before we’d pitched the roof
and the
r
a
i
n
filled our shoes
until we sloshed around
desperately trying
to keep
things
dry.
but our toes had already pruned
and the water soon reached our knees —
a distress signal we chose to ignore.
our hands were still dry, after all,
and we could still do things
like cook
wash the walls
and smile.
but then,
the water rose
and we were neck deep.
but our eyes could still see
and our lips, they weren’t wet yet.
so we chose not to talk
about the suffocating rain
and about how hard it was to tread water
when floating
or drowning
seemed a better option.
and then, to the thunder soundtrack, the rain filled our mouths
pushing up and out —
burning our nostrils
mixing with tears and bits of old dinners
and birthday gifts
and place settings of expensive china
long forgotten and shattered —
teacups
silver-plated spoons
and that really nice tablecloth
the one that we never used
because dinner parties seemed inconvenient
beneath an open sky
that never
seemed to stop
raining.
and we held our breath
puffing our cheeks like blowfish
swimming through the kitchen
and over the couch
and next to that painting
and that photo
until we had to open the windows
just to breathe.

the good list's pallindrome.

otherwise known as: things i dislike.
or, " tsil doog eht"
Part I

automatic paper towel dispensers
slow cars in the fast lane
sidewalks crowded with poky walkers
concert-goers who buy and wear the tour shirt at the concert
blisters
raw mushrooms
gum chompers (with only a few exception including myself)
pet hair on anything but pets
lint in general
insomnia
how sweaty i get when i workout
painful zits
the crack in the E's windshield
the amount of money it will cost to fix the crack
florescent lighting
forced clapping at things like company meetings
hurried creative processes
itchy wool sweaters
long, skinny tanks that shrink after one wash
my lame cell phone battery
humidity
my inability to read an entire book
that i'm done with school
the idea that some people really believe global warming is a hoax
when the cappuccino machine at quicktrip spits water instead
that i'll never have summer feet. thank you, running.
swimsuit shopping
myspace friend requests from girls wearing lingerie
the day after the longest day of the year

craving.

so i've been having these swallowing problems coupled with pain behind my breast bone for a month. last night, i lost the ability to swallow food or liquids, and um, i'm not doing so well.
so my absence lately has been due to that.

i'm going to see a GI specialist today. i can't swallow and all i want is a blue koi noodle bowl. seriously. can't stop thinking about it.

that's really all. enjoy eating and drinking today. i guess it's one of those things you don't realize is so great until you can't do it anymore.

no thanks.

i got this in the mail today.

i was appalled for more than one reason. but mostly, i suspected that this "church" is preying on ignorant people who really think that if they send back a prayer or money, they will be "blessed." the most sickening part of it, though, is the way it is written - full of scary language and empty promises.

couple that with the nonsensical instructions to write a prayer, place it on top of a specific page in the bible, under the bed, for the night - for what reason? it doesn't say. but it does instruct you to, in the morning, wait until after dawn to open the "prophecy."

i opened it immediately. it was like a bad horoscope - promising blessings and power and that if i returned this "anointed prayer handkerchief to this 56-year old church," i would be blessed beyond measure.

sounded pretty shady to me. so, i began to wonder if anyone is actually manipulated by this letter. and if so, who are these people?

i did some research. and i found this.

it made me sad. and horribly angry that people misuse the name of god and the power of jesus for things like this scam.

this is why i don't like to call myself a christian. i am a friend of jesus. but religion is not for me.

my weekend with gus.

falling

the melody of a fallen tree
is delicate
leaves still affected by the breeze
limbs outstretched
trunk strong, but not tall
roots profound, but not entrenched

it exists where it fell
changing
as it’s covered in moss and dew
and cleansed by rain


falling is something different entirely
it’s vibration vibrato
perceived danger
crushing anything in its path
— and it’s beautiful
the falling
because nothing, nothing
nothing
can stop it
as it bends and breaks
and staggers toward solid ground

a landing that seems
new and green
like spring
hope
promises of nothing
and everything
all wrapped up in a hillside
or meadow
or in that last patch of winter snow

and the impression the tree makes in the soft ground
is glory and splendor
and as it penetrates through,
it’s clear
that while its impression may fade
the ground never forgets
the moment it felt the falling

remembering

she sits
on the bench that’s been there since the 70s
with her face poised perfectly for smiling
and for making eyes at strangers.

she's a well-mannered liar
screaming on the inside
thinking about her thighs
and the way they feel bigger today
and how she can never quite seem
to lose those last five pounds.

and she contemplates her outfit
and if the brown skirt she chose
really does match the black top.
and why hasn't anyone looked at her?
she's cute, dammit, and she’s wearing new shoes.

she's tired and walking seems too arduous
so, she pretends to be on an important phone call
when she should be eating lunch
or at least drinking juice
because the lightheaded feeling
won’t go away on its own.

but she's used to the spinning, dizzy numbness
it's her constant companion
each day between alarm clock and dinner.
it's easier to skip lunch, she thinks
and so, she does.

today, she's a voyeur
watching strangers
eating
smiling
talking over pizza
or hamburgers
or a turkey club with crisp bacon, dripping in mayonnaise and cheese.
and she wants to smell their breath
to figure out how they can eat and be okay
because she can’t even smell bacon
without thinking about throwing it up.

she keeps sitting beneath a sky wearing its finest blue jacket
checking for text messages
scanning the street
dreaming of eating a bucket of fried chicken
or chocolate soup
and then running
endlessly, effortlessly
shedding 15 pounds and 8,000 calories
she knows she will run later
before rewarding her stomach with half a bagel.
and maybe, if she pushes her body to its bitter end
she'll eat cream cheese, too.

the illusion of control gives her comfort
and, happy, she remains in her quiet prison
where nobody can hear her screaming
if she never opens her mouth.

to my diggity deich on her 30th birthday

We've been friends a long time. That means, I've had several bad haircuts that resembled carol brady (see below). Thank you for always laughing at them with me.

Look at you now, Mrs. 30.

Happy, happy birthday. Thanks for hanging in with me until I got the hair issue figured out.

Love you.

-J-Dubb.

ranting

sometimes, i'm a little bit hard on people who use words incorrectly. i can also be somewhat judgmental about ads that suck, television that sucks, art that sucks um...poetry that sucks. okay, i'm a total snob. yes.

but i have to get serious now about the topic of naming rooms for the purpose of selling houses. i've noticed lately, as i am a huge fan of real estate in general, that more and more home listings are referring to family rooms as "the bonus room."

this egregious misnaming bothered me slightly at first. but today, it became more than an irk. see, i was looking at someone's myspace page for pictures of their new house. and beneath the photo of the family room, the caption read "the bonus room."

seriously. bonus room means nothing. NOTHING. is it where you hang your bonus check from work? is it a room that you didn't expect to get with the property you purchased? was it such a surprise that you actually jumped up and down proclaiming, "i can't believe this house came with this bonus room, it is so much more than we asked for." no. that is not the case. you bought the house and the room under a pretense that it was an extra. but it's not. you paid for it with the selling price and interest rate and anyway, call the room what it is. use den. or family room. call it cozy or sprawling or whatever. just don't, DON'T, call it a bonus.

just another way that using words to mean something they don't dumbs down the english language. think about the kids. the children, after all, are the future.

and who wants our future using the word "bonus" to describe run of the mill ordinary things? i for one, am against that idea.

laundry list, part deux. (or, things i like)

Greek Song by Rufus Wainwright
Whole Food’s homemade flour tortilla chips
Wearing funny necklaces
Sushi
Laughing
People who say funny things without realizing it
The Juco Channel
Green Tea with Blueberry
Lox
Caring is Creepy by The Shins
White chocolate
Grace
Found art
Dwell (the magazine)
Seven Jeans (the 7 pocket style)
Umbrellas that fit in my purse
Color
Sunflowers
Vases
Using teacups and saucers as votive holders
Antique shops
Old photos
Death Cab For Cutie
Terrible greeting cards
Shopping
Swing sets
Forgiveness
Spring
Anything from Hallmark’s Mahogany line of cards
YJ’s
Wine
And occasionally, tequila

yes.

"Years ago, I recognized my kinship with all living things, and I made up my mind that I was not one bit better than the meanest on the earth. I said then, and I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it; while there is a criminal element, I am of it; while there is a soul in prison, I am not free"

- Eugene V. Debs

"The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that life in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt?"

- Frederick Buechner

he shaved his head because cancer sucks

this is a story of my friend/coworker joel. joel decided to raise money for the hope lodge through the american cancer society's shave to save fundraising bonanza. he spent months selling T-shirts, holding events at work, events off site and panhandling around the office for money, spare change and whatever else he could get.

the big head shaving day was set for may 2. until then, joel grew his hair. and it got longer and longer and one day, it was longer than mine. here is a picture of him hours before meeting gary lezak and getting his head shaved. note the fact that he looks a bit like jim on the office, no? oh, and that shirt he's wearing...pure shave to save genius designed my one mr. andy mcleod. not bad, huh? you, too, could have had one for only $20.

the event, held at the hyatt, was a nice affair. a luncheon, a speaker, gary freaking lezak. and then, there was joel. my friend. who is always the center of attention. because he's funny. just look at this picture that was displayed, projected even, for all to see.

gary lezak is a cancer survivor and, hence, is the master of ceremonies for this event. here he is talking to joel minutes before his hair would be gone. GONE.

this is when he asked joel a question, and joel, being himself, said something sort of funny. that's his mom to his right. she took the first swipe at his hair.

see, there she goes. and gary lezak promptly posed the question of the hour,"how does it feel?" i don't remember what joel said. but everyone else answered "it feels good." save one lady who said it felt tickley and like vibrations she'd never felt before. yeah.

this is the group of people, including joel, and including women, who shaved their heads for cancer. i commend them entirely. and, as a woman, i have so much respect for these women who shaved their heads for this. i complain when i have a bad hair day. these women are courageous.

in the end, joel ended up looking like this. he went home that night and shaved it again with shaving cream. and then, again, in the morning. he says now he'll let it grow back out. joel raised thousands of dollars for the hope lodge. and now, he has a shaved head to show for it. i'm sure when people asks he tells them why he did it. he probably also tells them about how his head gets cold now and he carries a hat around just in case it's unbearable.

i've seen cancer take the lives of people close to me. i've also seen people beat it. billy beat it. at the ate of 29, he had his leg amputated below the knee to beat it. cancer is real and the need to find a cure is real, too. for billy. for my grandma. for my great aunt. for my neighbor who died from lung cancer after never smoking a cigarette in her life. for her family. her kids. her husband who has no idea how to go on living. for them. for us. for hope.