Archive for March, 2009

the first:

i am really inclined to think that the story’s almost entirely in the telling.  an argument, a song, an event can change so drastically, if it is spoken or retold through different lips.  something that comes to mind: you may think the most visible part of outkast’s ‘hey ya’ is the instruction to “shake it like a polaroid picture.”  but would it be too liberal-arts of me to point to its melancholy?  andre 3000 is, after all, just being honest.

the second:

i want to sink into these blankets and embrace them like a new skin, and not shed them until they grow too tight and warm and confining.  and then i want to shed them off and let the mild morning light dance through my curtain and play into secretive shadows on my sleeping skin while i mend, and revive, and awaken.

p.s. it’s my birthday.


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greek yogurt and goat cheese are remarkably versatile foods.

artificial deadlines don’t portend compliance.

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in the interest of accommodating the first of the three premises on which this blog is founded, i would like to announce that i have two glorious, sweet, juicy, ruby-red grapefruits in my refrigerator.

that is all.

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annie lennox is my early 90s rock diva alter ego.


(yes. that is hugh laurie in that video. and john malkovich.)

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there are necessities and reminders:

a stack of library books.  pictures, postcards.  a wedding announcement.  a pair of champagne flutes.

a carnation.  it’s been there for two weeks.  it’s still in full bloom.

i had thought that in this time it would have slumped in the vase, its blush would have faded, its petals would have dried and fallen.  i had thought that after this time, it would be gone.

i had thought something else would be gone, too.

so i’m going to keep an eye on that carnation.  i’m going to wait for it to wither.  i’m going to wait for the water to dry, for the stem to thin, for the leaves to curl back and drop away.

and when it does…  i’m going to take it as a sign.

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your absence has gone through me

like thread through a needle.

everything i do is stitched with its color.

[w.s. merwin]

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you know, stasis is really my thing.  i can enjoy being almost anywhere.  i can enjoy crowd and countryside, constant diversion and utter peace.  i can withstand smog and isolation.  such is the life of a country mouse-turned-city mouse.

traveling from place to place is something entirely different.  two hours in a car.  five hours on a bus.  an hour in south station.  two more hours on a bus.  a half hour walk.

but after all that, when i finally arrived at my destination, there were smiles and hugs and homemade clam chowder and salad and a glass of wine with my name on it.

traveling, i have come to believe, is like carrot cake.  it’s worth picking your way around all the nuts you can’t eat, as long as you get to smear the frosting all over your face afterwards.

ok, so it’s not a perfect metaphor.

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