Real

"I feel

like all my insecurities

and mistakes

have been to make me

the person

you love."

South Carolina 2013.

Two Hearts/ Two More Weeks

When I was in Alaska I drew our initials in a snow heart. I texted him the image, and he responded:

I left AZ June 25th. It has really been too long.

I'm fractured from the fall,
and I wanna go home.
But it takes two when it used to take one.
It takes two when it used to take only one.

Bein' a Woman! (Part III)

At times I am uncomfortable to publicly say anything about romance. I am happy to show simple affection when I am with my beuf, but when I'm not, I get worried about not sounding like my own person. And I am my own person! I've known people (I'm sure you have too) who project so much about their sig others that they seem to fade into a deflect of that other half.

But. The people we care about are part of who we are. To avoid them in projecting our "own personhood" is to neglect something very important about ourselves.

I miss this guy.

And I could write a book,
the one they'll say that shook
the world and then it took--
it took you back to me.
And I could write a song
a hundred miles long.
Well, that's where I belong.
And you belong with me.

Here!

Sunday evening, I went on a four mile run downtown. I was booking it. Had just left improv, Ethiopian with Cobra impending.

I wore my navy heart tank and a sleek straight braid. I ran down the cobblestone sidewalk of popular shops and eateries. All the restaurants with patio seating, doors open wide. All the young dads in spring training hats, sippin' brewskis.

Everyone walks slow. I cut through the sea. I do not mind. The air is saturated with Vacation. This is everyone's vacation. I can feel your brunch bellies and you looking around, being enchanted by the pitchfork t-shirts in the windows, by the bike racks and the ficus trees.

I live where people indulge. Here! Right here!

Spring Writer's Workshop. 2012.

Ran north on Mills Avenue,
listen to the engine roar.

Denver Wedding

Murried.

Berger and I finished Adventureland last night
right before it was bedtime. Early bedtime. He had to drive me to the airport at 5 AM today.
I tied my shoes silently in the foyer.
"I made you breakfast," he said, handing me a granola bar and my soup dish of two cupcakes:
cranberry almond and orange chocolate chip mocha.

They were the wedding cake. I gave them as an offering to Chelle when she picked me up from the airport back in sunny AZ.
Oh,
I missed sunny AZ
when the entire 94 guests shuffled outside the mansion
to take a friendly group photo.
"Here's who's here to celebrate this lovely thing!"
we waved up at the camera.

KWall suggested Adventureland to me a few months ago.
Finally, the first day of her honeymoon, I watched it.
I loved it a lot.
I loved the love.
I loved the love all weekend.

I gave the readings for the special day, a mid-morning ceremony.
I read in a dress patterned with greyhound-shaped zebras.
A caterer asked if I made it.
Hmm. Don't think that's a compliment. When the caterer asks if you made your formal outfit.


Kath--the best Thanksgiving guest.

"I really loved it," I told Berger. I folded the blanket and patted it onto his sofa.
"Do you feel like you changed?" he asked, which is a good post-film question.
"Yes. I feel like you should do things that are good for you, and that you should be happy."

My friend KWall has a new name. My first memory of our friendship was a decade ago on a beach walk. We talked about the TV show Blossom. She was dating her college sweetheart back then. She broke his heart.
Games, games, games.

Declaring Murder: Part II

So, remember last Thursday when I updated with lots of sappy e-mail quotes, and I said I had had a rough day? The roughness was this: a student was suspected of having violent tendencies towards me to the extent that my professor and the department wanted a security guard outside my classroom.

The storm has passed, and I am fine. It was really a "better safe than sorry" thing. This student of mine had been doing poorly all semester: absences, poor work, etc. and, well, his grade was showing it. I met with him one-on-one and sent him helpful e-mails, but, nope. He still insisted on blaming me for his bad grades. And, technically, I did give them to him.

Anyway, he dropped the class--destined to fail, and he was very mad. And he made his dislike of me very known. And, I could deal with that, but then two additional students made meetings with me to argue grades of a recent assignment. Both students failed and for good reason. They were livid, and they took it out on me. I got to sketch rehearsal completely fried and sad.

Chelle explained, "Oh, yeah. I've totally been completely mean to TAs, but really I'm just mad at myself for not doing well." I suspected as much, but it doesn't make the arguments less draining, my consistent politeness to everyone less tense.

I guess I just want to say is we should be honest with ourselves and others--even little toadstools like TAs--because we all have hearts.


Sidestreet in Heidelberg. 2011.

On a positive note? Today in class a student was casting kids to read his scene, and a guy raised his hand.

STUDENT: Okay. But you have to say the "s" word.
(Everyone laughs.)
ME: Thank you for the public service announcement.
STUDENT: Who else wants to read?
(Another GUY raises his hand.)
STUDENT: Okay. But you have to say the "n" word.
(No one laughs.)
STUDENT: Just kidding!

You and me we sweat and strain, bodies all achin' and wracked with pain.

EDIT: Chelle just read this and texted me, "For the record my TAs aren't as nice as you and they never can speak English."

Attack It Now

Tokyo, 2008

Today was another snow day here, but I still had work to do. I shoved on my boots and trekked to the office. No one else had come in. I was alone at my desk--half nose to the grindstone, half a child jumping on her bed, or, in my case, playing a video of the slide theme song from Mario 64 Vince sent me.

And suddenly, the heart heave was back. But today it was a heart pop. A little POP.

OW, I said. What's going on in there?

Wizzy was on GChat, so, being alone in the office and all, I started talking with her. I didn't have a direction at first, but after a few minutes of chatting around the problem, I was able to figure out what was bugging me, and she, of course, gave me some great ideas to help squelch the POP.

Done. I'm glad I attacked right then. Right at the first POP I said, "Halt. Somethin' ain't right, and that ain't right. REINFORCEMENTS!"

It's like what Hilmo told her camper who claimed she always gets homesick at the end of the first week of the summer. Hilmo was like, "You better take care of that now, lady friend! If you saw a monster one-hundred miles away, but coming towards you, would you just wait until it was right in front of your face to do something, or start figuring out resolution immediately?"

Well, dur! Why do we ever wait!?

**IN OTHER NEWS I HAVE MADE IT TO THE INTERVIEW PORTION OF THE JET APPLICATION.

I am the road leading to no return--secret of life nobody want to learn.

Running in the Dark

This morning I woke up with a heavy chest. It was difficult to get out of bed to work out. My body was saying, "Everyone has a snow day. It's silly you're still going to class." The class I am auditing for my department research met despite the rest of the college shutting down. Too much to do and a professor who lives on campus.

The class is at eight, so I was sliding down to the gym at 6:30. Slowly clomping and skidding. The sky, overcast, offered not light. There were no cars passing. I got the gym to find it open but deserted. No lights. I pecked around for switches. I found a couple--not the big ones apparently. Just some little spots on the corner. I hopped on a treadmill anyway.

It was the first time in a long time I felt myself running away anger, hurt, stress, sadness. All the little monsters. They came up from an unknown soil and manifested inside my legs. I felt alone. I was.

In the dark I ran, and really with each step I looked forward with hope. The frosted cars in the lot, half a Mojo bar I remembered in my Hello Kitty lunch box.

In class, I felt the vicious internal jabbings get quiet. And then farther. And then they were in Tallahassee, and I was sitting in my little class discussing methods for tutoring writing. And my chest wasn't heavy, and I don't know why that was. I don't know why that was.


Jamin, Fukoi, 2008


And I know you have a heavy heart. I can feel it when we kiss.
Sop many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it.

Spirited Away

On the morning of New Years Eve, Pookie started watching Spirited Away. I was about to go running, but I was stuck to my seat. Totally absorbed. My heart literally got heavier. I missed Japan so much. I know the right thing will happen with next year, but right now it feels like my whole body is yelping for Nihon. I even started reviewing my hiragana.


Mahji, Fukoi


Nac & Jamin*, Tsuwano


Grinz, Kyoto

*Jamin used to be referred to as Bradley on this blog. However, after the creation of Jamin/Bradley's fake name, I made a real friend with the name of Bradley who I also talk about on this blog...with a different name...Too confusing. So, now, forevermore I'm using Jamin' for my bestie once called Bradley.

You'll be saddened to know the train tracks you once walked as a young boy are now nothing more than a graveyard.

The First of May

30th of April, seems like yesterday.
Bought a house above the ocean where our kids could laugh and play.
I called you from Paris
to tell you that I put our names on the observation deck
of the Eiffel Tower.

Remember those nights?
Playing "Summer Wind" in the juke box at the bar we used to go--
We made out in the bathroom and you walked me to my house.
I tried to convince you not to go home.

I didn't go to the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. But, with The Ataris in mind, on the observation deck of Sacre-Couer I drew a heart with ETC. inside. A mini-trademark for Alice. I thought about names, but I have done that once before, and it didn't work out. I preferred the infinity of whatever love was going to bring my way etc. etc. etc.


Pookie on observation deck, 2009

Last night I was thinking about the foreverness of relationships. It's such an important idea--commitment--and perhaps even lifelong. But how will you know if your lover will love what you love for that long? Maybe it's not important that my partner appreciates the big stuff--theatre, education, social justice. It seems like it really is...it really should be...but who can say?

I think about Grinz's boyfriend hitting a grand slam at yesterday's baseball game. Nothing mattered in that moment but the ball sailing out of the park, Grinz yelling with joy, her face heating because "Alice, everyone was looking at me like I was the luckiest girl in the world!" because she was. Right then, she was.

If only I had one wish I'd want a million trillion lifetimes that I could spend with you.