Driveway's Clear, You Pray for Silence

I love this bedroom. The one I'm in and the one pictured--which was my bedroom in the fall of 2009--the first time Kay and I broke up. In these rooms I learn to be lonely and like it.

On Saturday I came home at midnight with a headache. No roommates were home. I had accidentally not really eaten all day. I took my box of Ritz crackers up to my room. I was my nurse. Get into a tank top, wet a washcloth, lay still, say a prayer of thanks.

I remember those first nights in Fall 2009--those nights of "No one even knows what I'm doing." I expressed this concern to Muff, who told me to call her and let her know when I was going to bed. I took her up on it. A few times. But I didn't really need to be accountable. I needed to know I could.

I texted her this week. Even though it was 3 AM her time. I let her know--I'm going to sleep, and someone should care. Because I am a living person, and for a while, I won't be conscious. PLEASE SOMEBODY CARE--there's an urgency in realizing you could die in your bed, and no one might realize until three days later.

I think that's right. Sometimes I don't see the roomies for a week straight. My sister would say, "Hey. It's been a while..." but what could she do? Who would she be able to call to check up on me? Chelle would probably call. If I missed rehearsal, she might come over. If someone was home, they'd come to my room and...

I have this wonderful, just wonderful, memory of that 2009 room. It was a Friday night and I was just writing a letter at my desk holding my hamster in my lap.

Today I woke up lonely, and now its midnight, and all sorts of things have happened to let me know I'm loved. Impromptu hellos from no fewer than seven--not an exaggeration--seven faraway friends. I sure liked those lil hi's, but I didn't gulp them down. This is good stuff here on my own.

Letters to Noelle--
marked up cardboard boxes fell.
I fell with them.
Crushed like them.

Here Lies Blanche

Dad buried her under the statue in his backyard.
I wrote on the tombstone, said a prayer.





If I die, see, you won't be so close to me,
and I won't be the one who sticks around.
If I'm awake, see, you won't go to sleep, I promise,
and I won't be the one who lets you down.

Victory Yatches

Favies! Fall 2010

Before my writing clinic I couldn't get the projector to work with the computer and the sound was crazy, and I was like "I suck at technology. I just won't do it." BUT GUESS WHAT? I took a breath and messed with cables and buttons and instructions and I FIGURED IT OUT. This is a MASSIVE victory. Do things you can't do! It is so great! And I got to show the students a slam poem before I started the clinic! Because the projector worked! It was semi-raunchy at the end which I forgot and it was really awkward...BUT VICTORY IS VICTORY!

A stranger with a doorkey explaining 'I'm just visiting.'

Bye Bye Baby

January 2, 2011

Blanche has been staying with her gramps since Thanksgiving. I was in transit for over the school break (including taking a train back here from Chicago) so she was returning home to me in two weeks when my dad next visited.

This morning he called to say she died last night. I am sad, of course. But, hamsters die. Little hearts. And, what kind of life is a little cage anyway? Still, I wish I had gotten to have her just a little bit longer. She was great company, adorable, and she really did lift my spirits. There's nothing like cozying up with a good book and a hamster. I recently put a picture of her on the desktop of my work computer. Yesterday my dad texted me to say he was listening to a duet of Blanche running in her wheel and the strangely similar sound of coffee percolating.

Some great memories of Blanchie:
-As aforementioned, the times she would just curl up on me as I did homework.
-The random places I would bring her--like newspaper pitch meetings, play auditions...whatever.
-When she escaped her ball and I found her just sitting upright under a chair, uninterested in going much farther.
-The way she was trained to climb the bars when she wanted a snack or to be played with.
-When she would lie on her back pressed against the bars of her cage when she got too hot.
-How she would keep Muff awake at night when we were roommates.
-How I really wanted to see her after I had gotten my wisdom teeth out.


I'll be the other hand that always holds a line
connecting in between your sweet heart and mine.
I'm strung out on that wire.

Morbid Wishes

When I brought my sweet little baby hammy home last year I had everything! I bought food, the cage, some treats, some blocks, and, of course, shavings. Dur.

I was trying to be a skimpy shopper as usual, so I bought the young lady a huge honkin' bag of pine shavings. I figured it would last me the year. Wrong. The little bag I bought to use for the first couple weeks of Blanche's new life ended up lasting me the entire year. Thus, I still have the huge bag. I bit the bullet and opened it a couple weeks ago. I keep it--you have to realize this is a bag of shavings about two and a half feet tall and a foot wide--in a garbage bag so the pine doesn't fall all over the darn place.

Okay SO. The other day I was tying it up to bring to my dad's house (the seasonal hamster sitter who incidentally just discovered the garbage bag full of shavings in his living room and exclaimed "This isn't--No!" as I was typing this) and I thought, "Good God. What if Blanche dies? What the heck am I gunna do with a trillion pine shavings?!?!" So I got quiet and made a little deal with the universe. I said, "Universe, I will help out the environment by not buying these shavings in vain if you make sure Blanche lives until they're gone. Alright?"

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket. Never let it fade away.

Never Gonna Get It

Lately I've been feeing sorry for Blanche. She has figured out that the top hatch of her cage is freedom. She now spends 75% of her time climbing the bars, doing a backbend, and waving her paws and/or teeth at the latch. She grabs hold just as she falls back--pomp--into shavings. She may be improving how long she can hang on to the latch, how long she can stand on one foot as she bends, how to swing and grasp the ceiling in one try, but she's still never gunna get out. The hatch opens up, and unless she built some type of cannon, she could not propel herself fast enough to bust out of the cage.

Plus, freedom would be horrible. She'd be sucked up in a vacuum cleaner immediately. I live far from the forest.

I aspire to be the kind of person never pitied for her goals and progress in achieving them. It's possible that her attempts at escape make Blanche's life meaningful, but I sorta doubt it.

They hand you the knife and tell you to cut it up right.

Random Thoughts

My stomach is arguing with me. Rude. I fed it salad, coffee, greek yogurt, a piece of pumpkin bread, a sip of cider, a FiberOne bar, and a shortbread cookie. My guess about the culprit: the GD cookie. Uck my innards are making all these noisy little squelches. Stop that! I just tried to calm my tum tum with string cheese. Perhaps not a good idea. One can never tell.

This is a true sentence: My sister married my mom.

Sometimes when I am feeling blah running, I pretend I am in a music video of what my iPod is playing. Tonight on the dark dark track I was in Powerline's "Stand Out" video. Nevermind that it is a cartoon. Never you mind!

I love my Koh Hos. I spent a fair amount of time this morning texting Trelly while we both watched The Biggest Loser in our respective cities.

Honestly, when I think about things I enjoy, eating greek yogurt is consistently at the top.

Scream 4 comes out in April!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY HAMSTER IS SO FREAKIN' CUTE! (Yeah, I am one of those people. Whatever. Be grateful I haven't made Blanche her own Facebook...imagine how cute it would be! "Activities: Running, Napping, Climbing, Planning Escape, Waiting for Special K to Fall from the Heavens")



And my first sin was a fear that made me old.
And my first sin was a fear that made me old.

Fammy&Hammy

Brought Blanche into the back on my dad's house where there was a little sign hanging that said in pencil "Welcom Blanch" and left her to her own devices. We got a pizza and watched Bride Wars--something perfect for my schooled-out brain. At a pause Char announces, "Is that...Blanche running?" Yeah, yeah it is. Her wheel. "It sounds like...coffee." He was right. It did sound like coffee bubbling to an end.

Later we started watching Star Trek and he fell asleep. Periodically, he would pretend to be invested in the movie...nodding and blinking his eyes open. Suddenly he sat up and said over the film, "Coffee's ready!" and dropped back into a snooze.

You Think

You think you're going to be alone, but that is when the most love pours out of every corner.



Even my hamster greets me with more happiness and encouragement. My sister does ridiculous things like commission friends to decorate my room with stars and balloons. Muff comes to my room to BE a presence, she tells me I can call her--even if I just want someone to know I am going to sleep. And because of all this, I am feeling really good.

Pookie: Pookie. I want to make you happy. But all I can do is think of things to buy you.
Me: All I can do is think of things to eat.

But, that was a while ago. Now, I think, I don't need anything.