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Archive for May, 2009

after a two-week hiatus in the neverland of home — that place where, robert frost reminds us, “when you go there, they have to let you in” — i am sitting contemplating the eve of my life as a Real Person.

(you must understand what a momentous event it is for me to lift my embargo on capital letters.)

it has been a peculiar couple of weeks.  i have eaten far more fat and sugar than my poor body is accustomed to.  i have been utterly enchanted by two men named john (adams and updike).  i have sent and received several wanton text messages.  i have allowed myself the understanding that many things that were once my sole responsibility are no longer even my concern.  i have become the owner of a car, an umbrella, and a phone that is smarter than i am.  and i have allowed myself to be intimidated, just a little, by the prospect of leaving neverland.

but i’m convinced that Real Life, unlike my phone, is only pretending to be smarter than i am.  lots of people do it, and i’m smarter than lots of people.  i can write checks, pump gas, cook, and wait in line.  i can do lots of other things, too.

on sunday morning when i wake up, i will make coffee, and i will check my email, and i will shower.  it will all be Real.  and it will be no different.

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item, two lips indifferent red;

item, two gray eyes with lids to them;

item, one neck, one chin…

item, one inflated sense of pride; one overwhelming conscience; one martyr complex.

item, one damnable eidetic memory.

item, two ankles, two knees, two wrists, two shoulders, ten fingers, ten toes, with sundry sprains and hyperextensions.

item, one heart, with sundry sprains and hyperextensions.

item, one disposition of occasionally foolish optimism.

item, excessive willingness to forgive.

item, two arms, soft and strong and profoundly powerless.

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it’s damp outside, and gray, and lots of things that i would mind if i weren’t so keen on sitting inside with sugar cookies and watercolors and wine.  although my room is empty, there’s certainly the feeling of company.  the voices in the hallway, and the unlatched door, the soft warm memories sunk in this fleece blanket. i find myself so overwhelmingly fortunate to love a few people who can know everything there is to know about me.  not always right away, but– everything, eventually.

(and your heart was beating faster than cars drive

through montana every night)

and between the pieces that i can confess to other friends, and family, and even sometimes near-strangers: god, if only we could average out all the love in this world.  it feels extravagant to be so well taken care of.  …the near-strangers, that’s an interesting piece.  i said once to someone i loved that i don’t consider myself a trusting person.  and he said he disagreed, that he was surprised, that he thought i was very trusting, maybe even too trusting.  –because i had been, with him.  because he had made it so easy for me to trust him after the briefest acquaintance.

(is your heart still beating faster than cars drive

through montana every night)

and there is something wonderful and loving and human about honesty.  because people are just people, as regina spektor would tell us.  and sometimes those people also hate mushrooms, or prefer gin martinis, or like to be the little spoon.  i love that.  i love the acknowledgment that we don’t have to bumble around in artificial zones of secrecy.

(cause my heart is beating faster than cars drive

through montana every night)

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douchetastic behavior is simply unacceptable.

my state is letting gay folks get married.  well done, my state.

i don’t really ever want to run for high office, but wouldn’t it be nice if we lived in a country where i, as an atheist, could be elected to high office?  some vanishingly small percentage of americans say they would vote for an atheist.  and we say we have separation of church and state.  i don’t mind if other people worship, i just choose not to — and yet that would make me an untrustworthy defender of the constitution?

paul newman makes a good cookie.

polar pomegranate dry + gin = the best way to study for a shakespeare exam.

a wesleyan student was shot and killed today.   wesleyan is a beautiful, safe campus in middle-of-nowhere middletown, CT — lush and happy and loving, so i have a really hard time imagining this.  it makes me imagine a murder on my own campus.  all of a sudden you question your security, your knowledge of your own home.

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