No Other Gods

"Thou shalt have no other gods before me," is a thing a lot of people get taught. I have the ten commandments written on an index card behind my bedroom door. They're a decent read.

Ditto American Gods, which I am currently involved with. Gods of past, gods of present, gods of this "culture."

When I was leaving Vancouver, I had a stress lump in my throat. "I'm on vacation, I shouldn't be this way," I thought. I texted my sister, and she responded, "Responsibilities are gods." True, sis.

I am going to worship gods. It's going to happen. I kneel at the shrine of Mindy Kaling and gym shorts. But I want to choose what to worship. I am not going to be tricked into it! No tripping into manholes of concern.

Ideas are more difficult to be killed than people, but they can be killed, in the end.

Dogfriend

My boyfriend is laying on my bedroom floor,
facedown. Like a tired puppy. It's Friday at 5:50 after all.
I am standing in my closet
whimpering
also like a dog. Because I have to change out of running shorts
because I have to go to the theatre
(accentuated R-E).
"How cold do you think it will get?" I ask.
"High of 50s," he says into the carpet.
"So I should wear pants," I grumble, then
counter, "Maybe
I'll just wear a dress....no,
I'll regret it. BEAT. I'll just wear
stupid pants."
And the dogfriend barks:
"Don't wear pants."
"...But why?"
"Because you don't want to!"
And I don't!

Halfway

I am officially halfway done with my MFA. It was a good semester.

Fall 2012 in 26 Snapshots

Pumpkin bagels on top of the crockpot.
John D. croonin' out my laptop speakers.
Imagining Slender Man in the corner, by my closet.
I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her. Oh-oh-oh.
Longform sets on the park blacktop. Planes overhead.
Grey running shorts. Orange spotted dress.
"We Are Never Getting Back Together."
Chickpeas in the food processor.
Sitting in the back row of Primary Colors with Hill.
Warm-ups with Barren Mind in a Santa Monica parking garage.
Riding my scooter to Los Favs.
Shy boy sitting on the MU stage holding a sign that says "Period."
Wearing combat boots.
Watching The Mindy Project while grading screenplays about sushi.
Ro sitting at my kitchen table.
Stretching in a circle of green improvisers.
American Horror Story discussions in the ed building basement.
"Ball is fine."
The red cover of Topdog/Underdog.
Miming skipping rocks on a railroad track in Wisconsin.
The sink in Ermo's office. The plastic mug on his desk.
The town lake bridge in lit blue.
Ru saying YOLO.
New squishy bicycle seat.
Pincushion sprawled across a sofa in the theatre building foyer.
Opening the door from a dark room to a woman holding two blankets.