Sunday Sunday

na na nana na

but it's not. it lied. it is gross and rainy and windy and cold and gray and i don't want to go outside even though I need to get milk. but how badly do i need milk? it is really a need or is it a want?

berg.who cares. the carton is empty. in the livingroom the Matrix soundtrack is playing, the people upstairs are taking a shower (their floor my ceiling), at least their little girl isn't playing Christmas songs on the piano cause that would totally be confusing with the matrix playing and all.

went out with the girls last night and had Ethiopian food which is great cause it's mild yet spicy and you eat in a circle from a circular platter with your hands. it totally feels like home (even though i don't eat much with my hands at home...hmm except a sandwich sometimes, never soup) and is really neat cause there is incense and bright colours. something i would never get to enjoy in Nova Scotia.

i'm missing my bunny and my jenny and home but that is nothing new. i want to crawl into my bed where it is warm cause in dreams i am home and there are not readings for me to do or classes and work to go to tomorrow. i'm not hungry or thirsty or alone. dishes don't need to be done, all my clothes are clean, the plants don't need watering, Mona isn't meowing for attention, i can have a bath and not worry about the ring my bubbles leave behind.

putting myself down on paper

Putting myself down...

on paper.

Hmmmmm. Resumes, applications, references, proper format, education, experience, professional affiliations. It is so damn limiting to introduce people to me this way. I am three-dimensional. Yes, I am. Sigh.

But I have the afternoon, I should not be complaining. I bought myself a pretty plant with bright pink flowers at the supermarket along with wraps and soy and red peppers. I think it will cheer up my room as the plants I have in here now are here in hospitalization. I don't know if they'll make it.

And I woke up before my alarm today, 6:24am and there was no light from outside even though I keep my curtains open so I can wake up to the sun in my eyes. And outside was slippery and windy and I slid and fell on the sidewalk on the way to the subway this morning in front of an old lady going painfully slow in her fuzzy ankled zipper snow boots. Now I"ve got a bruise on my elbow and one on my hip for all to see.

I have no idea what is required of me for class in the morning. I need to hang up my coat and my scarf and my sweater that I threw off when I came again inside. And I want to go to sleep but I don't think Mona will let me cause she's sleeping on the bed, right in the middle.

backyard kitten

i will marry a man

i will marry a man
with long leather curls
all shiny and stiff
stubborn and keeping their place.

i will marry a man
in a blue checkered suit
that fits in all the right places
but with pants too long
to see his gliding feet.

i will marry a man
that knows the language of love
is very similar to the language of money
when it's still trees
because he listens carefully.

i will marry a man
with long nimble fingers
that can reach down and around fences
and undo the knots
i make in my hair.

i will marry a man
with eyeliner eyes
that always look surprised
that in the morning
i'm still there.

Drinking Tea

My sister and I when I was home for the holiday made stupid silly videos on her cell phone (it doesn't make any sense to me how they can do that) about drinking tea and tacky houses and their Christmas lights. I'm reminded of her as I am up drinking tea and being silly procrastinator yet again, disillusioned, forgetful of where I am and what my role is and what I should be doing at this moment (sleeping instead of working on an assignment due when the sun rises?)

I haven't felt like writing in a long time. It is a horrible feeling, that one in the pit of my stomach telling me I have nothing original to think about, that it has all been done and there is a void where my imagination used to be. The winter does that to a person, the cold puts part of you in hibernation.

But I feel loved today, the part of me that isn't sleeping away the winter in a cave waiting for the grass to peek out under the snow all green and ready. Yes, I feel loved and there is nothing better than that and of course words escape me because there aren't words good enough.

This isn't poetic, this isn't beautiful but I am keeping it anyway. I am not going to select all, make it blue and then make it all go away. This isn't a contest, putting all the good stuff to the top (the cream in the milk) and hiding the rest away under a wig and make up painted on blush and blue/green/pink/ eyelids. This is me sitting here wearing the ring that my boobaluke won for me at an arcade thinking that it is the most beautiful thing because it is from him and it makes me feel less lonely. This is me sitting here drinking tea and thinking thoughts that aren't worthy of repeating, but worthy enough to stand their ground and be. This is me sitting her drinking tea remembering my sister's newfound love of it and smelling it on the night breath of my momma as I put a blanket over her before I go up to sleep.

I think it's always funny how plain old orange pekoe tea reminds me of home - the taste and the smell - and always makes me smile. The caffeine isn't bad either.