Sliver

Sometimes I just want to love you. Sometimes I just want to hear you say the same. Our lives should parallel not intersect. I want to run next to you forever, not run in, hit and arc away. Hit the bell, is this round two? Round three? Who will get KO'd? No one wins unless we both get what we want. I know how I'd like it to be...our ideas of clear happiness are very different. It's hard loving an akward man. 

Unruly, reckless, wretched

Our weather is strangling. Only tonight, after a fair amount of time has passed, that I'm supremely pissed at you all over again. Would you have reacted differently if I had just looked you dead in the eye and said "yes, all those songs are about love because that is what comes to mind when I think of your face, your shy, unsure mannerisms. How I could tell that you were nervous and I crushed your mojo (or whatever it is that you have) and yet you were the one making me nervous...which rarely happens in such situations. Obviously...obviously...that's all I can say. And you stopped coming in. You fucking wretched asshole. I am one glass of wine away from walking up and down 3rd south clear north to south temple and the east streets in between drunkenly singling all of the songs on YOUR mixtape until you fucking show yourself and tell me why. Tell me why you stopped coming in. I need a funeral for a customer; you made yourself that: a customer. No longer this sweet, calm, shy, handsome man who I know nothing about other than you order a tall coffee and you maybe? went to Stanford based on the lanyard you wear that holds your military ID. I have that choked feeling one gets right before the tears come, right before the snow falls, if it decides to fall. 

Sandollarmillionaire

I'm laying in my parents secret loft nook high above their two story condo and even higher than the condo below them. I can hear cars moving quickly on the 5 Pacific Coast Highway. They have families and homes to go to, or homes and families to get away from. I can close my eyes and imagine that whirring rush is actually the Pacific Ocean lapping against the San Diego bay but it only takes a half second to realize that it's way less romantic than that. My time here has been roughly soothing. I forget how to relax. I forget how to be smooth and free and non committal. I have headaches and cannot sleep at night and then feel lethargic and unhappy during the day. It's hard to be unhappy here though. Southern California feels like the archetypical grandmothers kitchen. Sunny, warm, refreshing and breezy. You know you are so loved, you know there are going to be soft, chewy cookies waiting on the counter for you. There are flowers everywhere and a cool sea breeze kisses your cheeks at just the moment you begin to feel flushed and uneasy. The palm trees tower, the bougainvillea climbs and the crepe myrtle blossom in December. It doesn't feel like Christmas here, people are surfing.  I walked in to downtown Carlsbad today and drank a mimosa and ate a nothing special breakfast. I walked around with the sun on my face and it felt clean. Yesterday my mother and I went to Cockleburre beach to wait for my dad to get off of work. It was an odd low tide and the ocean had peeled its layers from the shore enough to show its treasure. I found a sand dollar. I saw it laying there perfectly poised and waiting for me. I cannot express the surge of pleasure I felt in that moment. During the early 1990's, while my father was away fighting in the Gulf War, my mother, siblings and I lived in crumbling base housing right on the coast of North Carolina. Growing up near a beach was a constant reminder of how I was a mermaid and my legs were not really mine. My one childish desire was to find a sand dollar. I searched every chance that I got but never found one. I am twenty eight years old now and it is Christmas Eve eve and I am walking along the beach before sunset with my beautiful mother and here is this skeleton of a sea creature that I have searched for for years, just laying there glowing gray in the setting sun light. Perfectly perfect. 

I'm having a good time. I'm relaxing, or trying to. I need this. I deserve this. 

Good as Gone

I heard you didn't come in yesterday...and you didn't come in today. The wretched side of me takes secret pleasure in knowing the ache of a broken routine...especially when a delicious hot cup of coffee is involved. 1) I tried to respect your place, you just didn't think about respecting mine. 2) I decided that you were going to be OH SO TYPICAL and it wouldn't matter anymore; you wouldn't have an understanding of this though. 3) Maybe you saw how absolutley pissed/hurt/anger as hell I was when you came in on Black Friday an it hurt you to not be made to feel special. Guess what. I was made to feel un-special too. You did that and you know you did. Is shame keeping you away? "I'll not let hate be the one to make me naked for you." 4) You told your girlfriend and she urged you not to come in to the store anymore? I will probably never get more than a finger lengths clarity on any of these answers. He'll either come in or he won't. He'll either call or don't. So far its been the latter. 

Night Table

Lindved night stand from Ikea

Lace doiley cover from who knows. I thought Aunt Pearl had made it until I found a tiny "made in China" tag while hand washing it. 

Small, strange metal lamp with a glass sphere in the center. It belonged to a woman named Katherine Klingstine. It used to flicker and go out all the time so I took it to a shop and had the entire thing rewired and you know what? It still flickers and goes out sometimes. It has a custom beaded lamp shade that my mother made. The shade was part of a set that decorated a chandelier in our old town home in Maryland. This is the only one left and I can't bare to part with it.

Ihome stereo that charges my iPhone and sometimes plays music (when it feels like it). 

Earplugs that block up to 33 decibels

A 30oz Trenta cup of water from Starbucks

A large container of antacids

Vicks vapor rub

Vaseline Intensive Lotion

Kiss My Face Peaceful Patchouli Lotion

Dior Eyeglasses

Badger Balm Sleep Balm

A box of generic tissues from Smith's

Minteas Lime Mojito Mints

Orthopedic foot massage ball 

$1 Aquarius diary from Michaels Arts and Crafts

Covergirl Outlast Lipstain in Roxberry

Writing utensils 

Five different eye masks 

Haven Air&Linen room spray 

Books, periodicals:

The Outlander by Gil Adamson

Women by Charles Bukowski

NYT Sunday Magazine

Two old diaries

China Girl by Lisa See

A tattered, cover less paperback copy of The Eight by Katherine Neville

Love & Rockets New Stories #1 by The Hernandez Brothers

The Lady and The Unicorn by Tracy Chevalier 

Rookie Yearbook One by Tavi Gevinson

Slug Magazine December 2012

Vosges chocolate catalogue

Listening to "Little Black Sandals" by Sia

"Sleep To Dream" by Fiona Apple

"Shuck" by Purity Ring

Tall Coffee Shit Head Notice Me Never

I'm in the eighties movie I always secretly wished for myself. I'm working a low class job while putting myself through school. I have a ton of friends and a few really good girlfriends that I'm so close with. I drive a little red convertible like a bitch who plays tennis on the weekends. I drink and dance and kiss boys and maybe once in a while a coke conversation will come up. The parallels exist. And just like in my eighties movie the boy I am in love with only is in love with the ego boost flirt sesh over his tall coffee and nothing more. Far be it for me to have feelings and consider myself his equal; I realize now that he is a Royal Tenenbaum and I am more likely an Andie Walsh, trying to pass off my hideous pink prom dress as cute and sexy. Well, that's the risk you take I suppose when you put yourself out there. I know this lesson too well, know this all to familiar agenda of a man. He can listen to that cd and wish on a hundred stars I never gave it to him...but I'm guessing he won't wish that. I think he's glad/sad/mad? I don't know really, I know him just about as well as he knows me. He has my heart and mind on 16 tracks and I have google. I can't ever keep my cards close, I want to immedietly show my royal flush and then I expect everyone to hand over their chips. I say I am seemingly clairvoyant but that is an understatement. I knew he was fishing for an answer and I wasn't giving it. Our hearts are wrong sometimes. 

Somewhere in time

I sit here fortifying myself in vodka and extract. Thinking on someone who is not more than a city block away. I can't help but begin to wonder about his heart. Will he claim his prize? I look like a Christmas present getting out of my car in a green coat, will he see me that way? I could count the words we have spoken on two hands and two feet...but the looks are endless, uncountable just as the stars in the sky. Engineer a machine that can read the way I feel when you are near. A heart beat equals what? Stand there in your pea coat, let me tease you and smile to you (and truly, it is only for you) and laugh. Tell me something about you. Droplets of information that are as precious to me as uncut diamonds in a blue velvet cloth.To me you are gem that has never been polluted, occluded. There is a snow storm coming...and at the center will be us. Our emotion churning the brave flakes that risk their lives to land on our warm bodies. We will have our time. I will get my kiss and you...you will get yours.