pants free

Sometimes you just can't be bothered to put pants on. Is pantslessness really as terrible as we act like it is? So indecent? So offensive? We all have a body, most of our bodies look pretty similar. We have the same parts.

I'm feeling lazy today - just let me check my mailbox judgement free; pants free.

a night with the shins

Wearing yoga pants we got in the car and I drove barefoot. Destination; fireworks. A last minute decision. Marty McFly in the back of our minds soon swept aside by The Shins. Through open windows the night sucked away the lyrics so fast that they barely had time to kiss our ears. No one else was kissing us anyway.

We didn't talk.

Together we were holiday orphans. No hot dogs, sparklers, potato salad or outings requiring coolers. But we had our sense of humor. And some wine. Oklahoma isn't somewhere you really want to be in July but if your blonde best friend is in the passenger seat and you drive fast enough either the heat won't catch up or you just won't notice it.

We missed the fireworks so our purpose defaulted proverbially from the destination to the journey. The word journey conjures up a purpose but we were gypsies. I've often felt like a gypsy. Is it really so terrible not to belong somewhere specific? I prefer belonging to people instead of places.

pink shoulders & fish tacos

With the pink shoulders of a baby strawberry I reflect on an impromptu lunch in the sun. Small, soft tortillas heaped with bright lettuce, crispy bits of fish wink at you cheekily. I bet you can't wait to taste me.

Throwback music in the air and conversation with a throwback friend. Could the essence of happiness be distilled from moments like these? To be bottled up and sprinkled over gatherings not quite as lovely as ours? 

Trestle tables shared with strangers can bring new friends or the closer intimacy of two people together in a crowd. 

Watch. Listen. Taste. Talk.

A perfect Wednesday afternoon in a perfect place at the perfect time.

epidemic

How many broken hearts have you swept off the floor tonight?

The emotionally single moms, the mental widows with holes in their chests.

Their bodies are here but the souls are trying to escape.

Dissociation.

How many pills would it take? 

How long can I hold my breath?

Just a flick of the steering wheel in the right direction and I won't have to face him ever again.

Why do they lash themselves to us with no intention of love?

1, 2, 3, 4 - I could name half a dozen more.

What is this epidemic?

a saturday morning

Bits of dream still stick to my eyelids
While sun and shadow dapple homemade quilts.
Little paws demand attention
My commitment to unconsciousness wilts.

There's a lemon glow from my eastward window
Avian sun worshipers begin their daily chants.
Hardbacks, paperbacks are splayed to present points
Pull on those worn, plaid pajama pants.

resolute realism

I dislike Resolutions because blah blah blah... Anyway, I prefer yearly guidelines.  A loose list with no crushing guilt if things don't work out - because I'm trying to morph into a Type B personality over here. Also known as The Lazy Person's Resolutions (?). I prefer that we just call it realism.

• Travel, travel, travel
• Asking "why not?" instead of "why?". Adventures to hopefully ensue.
• Pursuing a degree I really care about instead of putting it off because it could literally take 10+ years to finish.
• 2015 is the year I will really dance. I LOVE to dance and I've always put it on the back burner but this is my year to cut all the rugs.
• Learn passable Italian (Refer back to #1... and so my sister and I can have secret conversations - though possibly hampered by the fact that most of our words will probably encompass food and toilets.)
• Write more things, even though you may never see them.
• Try to continue a 75% (ish) vegan diet because, why not?
• Become a Hugger (This may be the hardest one. Help me; Hug first because I'll probably forget...)
• And for the love of God; stop dropping my phone.

I never could have forecast all that happened in 2014, I'm looking forward to the same ambiguity from 2015.

pinprick

Out the window, in the grey, I see a twinkle.

The neighbor's light shines a hello.

A pinprick of fire.

Traveling across the fields, between the trees and through the fog.

This day feels lonely and cold, especially after my nightmares of the dark before.

You are not alone.

The light tells me.

Warmth, goodness and peace can still be yours.

A cardinal dressed in red dances through my twinkling reminder.

There are always bright spots in the darkest moments.

(Rescued from 12.03.11)