March Luck

There are so many wonderful people that surround my life. They waltz in and they take pictures of me while I scoot home in shorts and galoshes in pouring rain. They greet me at the testing center with Jamba Juice. They get the margherita flatbread because I don't eat meat. They put tiny gold boxes on the metal table. I laugh until I cannot stand.

I ask How did this happen to me? On a good day, on a day I have put on real clothes and eaten oatmeal I say I deserve this. And on days I show up ten minutes late to work because I was Googling the cast of One Tree Hill I ask harder, more times, with earnestness.

The theories:

1. People are not only good. They are great. The odds, they're fabulous. It seems like a miracle to be so connected, but we're all miracles, so it's not.

2. I am just so lucky.

Post Encyclo last night. Ladeez.

And Lights

Light is a miracle too. There's this power that illuminates! That light even exists at all is incredible. And then when I think that I have the power to erase the dark from an entire room with the mild force of my finger on a plastic wall tab...and I am given this power--no, I feel entitled to this power--without even having to ever understand it?

Biking home tonight the AMPM looked so beautiful. Barf if you want, but it did. The purple top being lit up by a trillion pennies of light. Little spots pouring down onto each pump. Red 98 CENT sign in the background. Next to the block letters of the Mexican place I've got a gift certificate to. Ro smokes two cigarettes on my porch and the end is a teeny torch, making our faces glow. The jets crossing over my condo, blink blink. Blink blink.

You little wonder, you. Wish you could see it too. Baby, how I see you.

Wasser

A moment of appreciation for water. Life is truly a miracle. Not only is my civilized life a miracle in that this magical fluid lives inside metal cylinders ready for my every need, but Life as we know it on Earth is a miracle because there is this substance that cleanses, that hydrates, that in different forms both  floated and sunk the Titanic.

I am so grateful for water right now. I am in a sleepy slump--still behind a giant paper mill of grading, but also in bed--with wet hair from rinsing on the account of chlorine in my hot tub, which Bug and I just melted into after nomming on the s'mores bars I made. A plastic movie theatre cup on my bedstand--full of the stuff.

Lil melon I picked up at the farmer's market in September. Had to bike home with it.

So I hope I never see the ocean again,
pushing and pulling at me as I go deeper and deeper in--

'til I'm so far from my shore, so far from what I came here for.
I let you surround me.
I let you drown me out with your din,
and then I learned how to swim.

Let's Hear It For Science!

When I walk down the garage staircase of the Museum of Science and Industry, I think of all the times I've peered out with the tiniest spark of excitement onto the bright white cavern of a ticketing center and gift shop. Field trips, on a half day with my middle school besties, with Wiz when she visited, with KHo on Spring Break of 2007, with immediate family, with distant family.

I intended to go to S&I last Monday morning for bite of nostalgia--see the Swiss pinball machine, the chicks, maybe buy a postcard and head out. Right before leaving the apartment, I wondered if maybe I should just get some work on my new play done. But, I figured, I could be brief. I stayed for three hours.

Because! Because! Once I was there I was suddenly hit with all the things I love there. The circus exhibit! Omg the model train! Historic Main Street USA for goodness sake! I had forgotten my old friends, and this was the first time I was ever alone with them. I soaked in every signpost about Barnum and Bailey, every turn in the miniature tracks, every brick in the faux road.

And, then, I was captivated by new things! Like you're supposed to be at a museum! I wanted to know about the greatest inventions of today--like a printer that prints edible paper that tastes like what it looks like! Like seeing "What if you could send a hug in the mail?" on a wall next to an ugly sciencey sweatshirt. Because I had gotten in free for being an IL resident, I splurged and bought tour tickets to the Smart Home. Wow eco-homes! The future! The future!

I felt overwhelmed with love for mankind, hope for the future, and a heightened sense of passion for education. I prolonged leaving and stopped in to finish basking in the feel of one of my favorite Chicago spots at the tiny cafe. They had just started serving pumpkin lattes.

It was the best way to spend my morning. I can't believe I almost missed my own life.