Phoenix Weekend, April 2015

Changed into shorts as soon as we landed. A caramel apple pasty. Gathering like high schoolers in the hotel lobby. Every day a new morning run--sand and buildings from the 80s and cacti. Buying birthday balloons for Mama Bisque. Earned iced coffee. At least six donuts. Screenplay revisions with Shells, the best breakfast burrito. Galloping through a rare rain. It followed us. Artisanal strawberry Pop-Tart on the patio with Ro. Diamondbacks game and a churro dog (churro in a long john covered with ice cream), all the messed up thoughts. My old house. Cager makes a pillow fort after Catfish. Night cap ice cream pretzel cone for free because they were already evening the register. Family brunch on the sunniest day. Dresses and a massage, poolside talk with Hill, burnt shoulders. The last double date, shaved ice, I stand in a parking lot waiting for my last friends to arrive. Ru screams out the window, and I get in the backseat. Good morning and goodbye.

Were We Wild And Young?

When we were 16, my friend wrote on her LiveJournal, "I shouldn't be sad. My boyfriend's awesome and the Sox are winning." I doubt she remembers the day or why she was blue. The journal has been deleted, but that line has always stuck with me. And perhaps high schoolers can be myopic and immature, but sometimes they're more keen than any of us could dream to be.

I don't remember, were we wild and young?

All that's faded into memory.

I feel like somebody I don't know.

Are we really who we used to be?

Am I really who I was?

The lights will draw you in,

and the dark will bring you down.

And the night will break your heart

only if you're lucky now.

Push Back

On Tuesday, Pookie and I went to a Cards game. I was excited to see The Giants because I have fond memories of many of them winning the World Series last fall. One of Pookie's friends was with us--a longtime Cards fan. I said, "Oh, yeah, well we're Giants fans."

I don't know why I felt like I needed to do that.

For some reason, we sometimes believe that pushing back harder than we need to is cool? Is helpful? Gets the ball rolling? Not like when we do it we MEAN to be accomplishing some side goal. It's just this mistake we make, and I'm not sure why we make it.

Like, I'm not even that big of a Giants fan anyway! Let's be real--it took Pookie and I a few minutes to make sure we were even reading the scoreboard correctly.


The baseball princess.

I know it's not the end of the world that we get defensive about random stuff that doesn't matter. (For some reason I am imagining the boy who lived across the street from me in middle school always arguing with me that cheesecake was GROSS and HOW could I LIKE it. I mean, he wasn't going to change my mind.) But, maybe it does matter. Because maybe if we stop pushing back in those little inane ways some good stuff will start to happen:

1. We'll talk about something more important.
2. We will exercise our ability to have a positive and educational mindset instead of an arbitrarily abrasive one. Even if we're joking.
3. The things we really do push back about will be accentuated. It's kind of screwed up that I can argue about how horrible pantyhose is with the same conviction I debate gay rights.

But, then again, I really do hate pantyhose.