Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Poem 4 - Days and Dilemnas
The poison sticks and stays in pores and under fingernails
I linger on the stench
It reminds me of things I have not yet accomplished
The joints pulling apart at my seams in the effort of reaching so far
The surgery of days work, nimble fingers
Swiftly stitching and ripping and carefully
Carving out the imperfections to create
A new whole that begs to be hollowed and built anew
Time tocks away, it disappears
Like early snow on a hot windshield
What an unaccomplished person I would be
My pockets full and this never endeavored.
A widow of dreams and wishes
A lifetime of self-loathed grieving
Or years and fears and the possibility of becoming such despite it all.
Do I dare breathe a sigh or emit a laugh
Between the scales and lengthened stanzas
Or hold in the euphoric atmosphere for later;
My light in a weary, faded world.
I linger on the stench
It reminds me of things I have not yet accomplished
The joints pulling apart at my seams in the effort of reaching so far
The surgery of days work, nimble fingers
Swiftly stitching and ripping and carefully
Carving out the imperfections to create
A new whole that begs to be hollowed and built anew
Time tocks away, it disappears
Like early snow on a hot windshield
What an unaccomplished person I would be
My pockets full and this never endeavored.
A widow of dreams and wishes
A lifetime of self-loathed grieving
Or years and fears and the possibility of becoming such despite it all.
Do I dare breathe a sigh or emit a laugh
Between the scales and lengthened stanzas
Or hold in the euphoric atmosphere for later;
My light in a weary, faded world.
Poem 3 - Divided
Who are you, living beside me?
What treasured parts still fit together
To gingerly compose the image that is my love?
How my heart weeps and seethes in his absence
Its beat dancing on reels
My feet sore at the heels
From this grey stop, so sudden.
A mindless, mindful, graceful, grateful story
We once were.
Strong bodies, young and rose-colored and smelling of sea.
Starred eyes and nights swallowed us whole.
Who are you, living beside me?
Walls and doors and chairs and stale air.
Pixelated goals replace the tangible zeal of tomorrow.
Blurred days and cloudy clouded concentrated thoughts
Shuttered words, so carefully constructed to
Love and hate and harrow and move
But to no avail.
Who are you, living beside me?
An aside, riding in my sidecar
The listless wind has somehow whipped you
Though I stand solid beneath you
Your earth is crumbling.
I shall continue to tear at the fabric of my soul
Until I can save you
And bring you home.
What treasured parts still fit together
To gingerly compose the image that is my love?
How my heart weeps and seethes in his absence
Its beat dancing on reels
My feet sore at the heels
From this grey stop, so sudden.
A mindless, mindful, graceful, grateful story
We once were.
Strong bodies, young and rose-colored and smelling of sea.
Starred eyes and nights swallowed us whole.
Who are you, living beside me?
Walls and doors and chairs and stale air.
Pixelated goals replace the tangible zeal of tomorrow.
Blurred days and cloudy clouded concentrated thoughts
Shuttered words, so carefully constructed to
Love and hate and harrow and move
But to no avail.
Who are you, living beside me?
An aside, riding in my sidecar
The listless wind has somehow whipped you
Though I stand solid beneath you
Your earth is crumbling.
I shall continue to tear at the fabric of my soul
Until I can save you
And bring you home.
Poem 2 - Speak my Love
Speak my love,
Your silent tongue
Mocks my breathless heart
I know not your troubles
But one syllable to start
Would slow the ceaseless churning
Of the scenes inside my mind
Speak my love
This worry is of the darkest kind.
Your eyes are full of coldness
That stills the breath I breathe
The anger hid beneath your chest
Is pain that I can see
I would leap from any height
To rescue you from this
Quickly speak my love
It is your smile I miss.
Your silent tongue
Mocks my breathless heart
I know not your troubles
But one syllable to start
Would slow the ceaseless churning
Of the scenes inside my mind
Speak my love
This worry is of the darkest kind.
Your eyes are full of coldness
That stills the breath I breathe
The anger hid beneath your chest
Is pain that I can see
I would leap from any height
To rescue you from this
Quickly speak my love
It is your smile I miss.
Poem 1 - Ballad of the Anarchists
Stand upon the hills,
Those who own their souls,
And cry to the night as one,
To purge this poisoned air.
Fire! They shout,
Out bloody mouths,
Frothing with the taste of anarchy.
They indulge their eager feet,
Forever drowning in turning sand,
Blissful as long as the endless sea
Remains on the horizon.
An angry world tips the scales,
To loose the furled and knotted minds,
That otherwise would climb the ladders,
Step by step
Content with time.
Compassion, love, honor,
All silently secretly slaughtered,
Apathy, unbridled passion
Wield the scythe;
The swing never whispers
Rhyme or reason.
Pattern the fields with purposed bodies,
Leave behind the selfishness of mine,
March to an even drum;
The heartbeat of possibility.
Let these burdened minds know victory ,
And find peace on distant hopeful shores,
Weary legs wrung with the effort
Of running for so long against the current.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
For the Millions Listening In...
There will be poetry coming soon. I'm not sure how good it is, but it is definitely current. Stay tuned.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
A Milo Moment
Milo... without him, my most horrible days would be ten times more horrible.
Funny things he does:
1. I can't sit down without him jumping on me and commandeering the spot on my shoulder.
2. He chatters at birds and moving lights.
3. He eats the little food pieces that fall out of the bowl first before starting in on the pile
4. He hides under boxes and in bags and thinks we can't see him.
5. He'll do tricks for treats (like a dog)
6. His head is always wet from sneaking into the shower and rubbing against the faucet.. which drips a little.
7. He is half Siamese, so his eyes cross often....which is hillarious.
Funny things he does:
1. I can't sit down without him jumping on me and commandeering the spot on my shoulder.
2. He chatters at birds and moving lights.
3. He eats the little food pieces that fall out of the bowl first before starting in on the pile
4. He hides under boxes and in bags and thinks we can't see him.
5. He'll do tricks for treats (like a dog)
6. His head is always wet from sneaking into the shower and rubbing against the faucet.. which drips a little.
7. He is half Siamese, so his eyes cross often....which is hillarious.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Olympic Fever
I am totally and unabashedly watching every moment of the Olympics. And not just TiVoing it and watching bits when I'm bored. Because we don't have TiVo. I'm literally watching every second of it. I even sunk saved money into a Ralph Lauren Olympic Track Jacket that the olympians are wearing, and it wasn't cheap. I don't think its US pride... I think its maybe a little awe at how willing to put themselves in such dangerous positions for the sake of competition, and maybe a little jealousy that its not me out there doing it. Just thought I'd mention it.
What Goes In....
I read a short story in a brilliant Film class I took two semesters (wow time goes by fast) ago. It was written by Virgina Woolf, who I never cared to read until that moment. Most of the story was about how she was asked to speak at Oxford about "women in literature" and yet she had to be escorted around the campus by a male faculty member, and wasn't even allowed inside their library, being a woman. But a small part of the story was about the differences in food between the lavish meal she received after her speech at the university, and the meager dinner at a friend's house the following night.Of course I'm probably demeaning the entire work when I focus on this bit, because she was highlighting the plight of women and their individual poverty at the time, but her words stick with me. She described in detail this exquisite set of courses at the first meal, citing scents and sounds, tastes and textures... and ended with relating the bliss she felt afterward, sitting on a velvet cushion by a window, having experienced such wonderful sensations. Later she laments at the stale bread, unseasoned meat, and small portions had at a female colleague's house the next day, and draws the conclusion that food and comfort fuel a being like the difference between newspaper and logs to a fire, and the flames don't last long when the tinder is meager.
With this being said, I've started actually cooking at home. Like an adult. It is a lot harder than it looks. I vaguely remember the first time my mom asked me to help her trim the fat off of chicken breasts, and I only remember the slimy, sticky skin of the chicken, but not how freaking difficult it is to keep the stupid chicken from sliding all over the place. Anyway...
This whole escapade started out with the discovery of WHOLE FOODS. It is my mecca. You can get granola, olives, and spices from little containers where you can get just enough for a snack or enough for a month... which is always the case with their Country Spice Granola (drool). So after going there a few times and walking around in wonder with Chris, we discovered applewood smoked bacon. And after that, breakfast became gourmet. Suddenly it was fifty times easier to wake up to coffee, guava juice, scrambled eggs and a few slices of applewood bacon. Do you know how freaking good it feels to actually eat breakfast? FREAKING AMAZING, that's what.
The next great leap in Chris and my quest to eat real food came when I was at the end of recovering from my tonsil surgery, and he rented Julie and Julia. Great movie, very cute, but I absolutely hate Amy Adams' haircut. The pixie doesn't look good on anyone, even on Julia Roberts when she played a pixie in Hook. Anyway, Meryl Streep can knock the acting socks off of anyone, and I fell in love with her side of the story and kind of ignored the main plot line, waiting for her flamboyant intrusion into french cooking to come on the screen again. After the movie, I was yearning for some striped french wallpaper in my apartment, but nothing more than that. Chris, however, was already looking at prices for Julia Child's cookbook, and whisked me off to CostCo, dizzy from the codine.
We ended up buying Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and an Italian cookbook. We salivated going through the recipes, even though most of them we couldn't even afford (let alone attempt) to make. But I really wanted to try crepes....
It started out a little rough....
But in the end it was really good... but I don't think I'll make it with cheese sauce again :) Dessert crepes American style would probably be better. No offense Julia child.
Wine with crepes? I think so. I think so very much. Even though my tonsil wounds were a little angered. :P
After that success... I decided to jump in. Abandoning Julia Child for the moment (I can't afford $80 of supplies for one meal!) I searched for really healthy, cheap recipes on the Cooking Light website and looked for all the five-star ones, so that anything wierd tasting would just be my fault :) And the salmon was a HUGE hit. I can't get Chris to eat anything, but he downed that salmon. I also made grilled asparagus to go with it, but of course chris avoids anything green, so I got them all to myself!
So... since then I've made some really successful dinners - baked parmesan chicken, light enchiladas, chicken casseroles... and all of them have been winner :D So in closing, I guess Virginia Woolf would have said I was a very inspired individual, and looking at the amount of photography work I have to do this semester, i certainly hope so.
With this being said, I've started actually cooking at home. Like an adult. It is a lot harder than it looks. I vaguely remember the first time my mom asked me to help her trim the fat off of chicken breasts, and I only remember the slimy, sticky skin of the chicken, but not how freaking difficult it is to keep the stupid chicken from sliding all over the place. Anyway...
This whole escapade started out with the discovery of WHOLE FOODS. It is my mecca. You can get granola, olives, and spices from little containers where you can get just enough for a snack or enough for a month... which is always the case with their Country Spice Granola (drool). So after going there a few times and walking around in wonder with Chris, we discovered applewood smoked bacon. And after that, breakfast became gourmet. Suddenly it was fifty times easier to wake up to coffee, guava juice, scrambled eggs and a few slices of applewood bacon. Do you know how freaking good it feels to actually eat breakfast? FREAKING AMAZING, that's what.
The next great leap in Chris and my quest to eat real food came when I was at the end of recovering from my tonsil surgery, and he rented Julie and Julia. Great movie, very cute, but I absolutely hate Amy Adams' haircut. The pixie doesn't look good on anyone, even on Julia Roberts when she played a pixie in Hook. Anyway, Meryl Streep can knock the acting socks off of anyone, and I fell in love with her side of the story and kind of ignored the main plot line, waiting for her flamboyant intrusion into french cooking to come on the screen again. After the movie, I was yearning for some striped french wallpaper in my apartment, but nothing more than that. Chris, however, was already looking at prices for Julia Child's cookbook, and whisked me off to CostCo, dizzy from the codine.
We ended up buying Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and an Italian cookbook. We salivated going through the recipes, even though most of them we couldn't even afford (let alone attempt) to make. But I really wanted to try crepes....
It started out a little rough....
But in the end it was really good... but I don't think I'll make it with cheese sauce again :) Dessert crepes American style would probably be better. No offense Julia child.
Wine with crepes? I think so. I think so very much. Even though my tonsil wounds were a little angered. :P
After that success... I decided to jump in. Abandoning Julia Child for the moment (I can't afford $80 of supplies for one meal!) I searched for really healthy, cheap recipes on the Cooking Light website and looked for all the five-star ones, so that anything wierd tasting would just be my fault :) And the salmon was a HUGE hit. I can't get Chris to eat anything, but he downed that salmon. I also made grilled asparagus to go with it, but of course chris avoids anything green, so I got them all to myself!
So... since then I've made some really successful dinners - baked parmesan chicken, light enchiladas, chicken casseroles... and all of them have been winner :D So in closing, I guess Virginia Woolf would have said I was a very inspired individual, and looking at the amount of photography work I have to do this semester, i certainly hope so.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Having Things Ripped Out of You Is No Fun.
So I've been an immovable lump on my couch for the past six days, and for good reason - tonsilectemies hurt like a bitch. Thinking back to the dread I felt sitting in the waiting room joking with my mom and Chris (the ultimate support group) it wasn't silly at all. I am so glad I mentally prepared myself for the worst, because on the fourth day of recovery, I just about reached it.
Surgery Day: Joked with Chris and my Mom far too much about getting a new outfit and jewelry for surgery - the paper-thin gown, incredibly attractive cap, non-slip beige socks, and my spiffy hospital ID bracelet. I neurotically explained to the nurse that I have the most uncooperative veins in the world (and related my horrific heart ct scan story) and she assured me she'd been a pediatric nurse for twenty years- but I didn't believe her until she got the IV in me the first time (hallelujah). They piled me high with warm blankets and I wiggled my toes in my non-skid socks until they wheeled me into a really small operating room with three gowned people I didn't know and the blissfully familiar face of Dr. Blazen. The last thing I said was, "Am I supposed to feel drowsy?" I woke up very very slowly... like not being able to come out of sleep but still being able to hear everyone's conversations. Apparently the surgery only took twenty minutes- my doctor is now my hero. Every time I spoke or smiled or took a sip of water three nurses exclaimed at how well I was recovering. Nothing really hurt too much, it just was puffy and swollen and achy. I was on so much medication, I don't remember much of the rest of that day.
Day 1: Movies, hydrocodone= my best friend, soup broth and vast amounts of water. I also ran into a wall trying to get to the bathroom. Didn't really sleep, woke up every hour or so to keep hydrated and to keep my meds up so I didn't accidentally sleep more than four hours and wake up in excruciating pain.
Day 2: Movies, hydrocodone = still my best friend, eggs and vast amounts of water. Didn't really sleep again, but I'm getting really tired of being so tired and disoriented constantly from the medication.
Day 3: rinse and repeat
Day 4: Everything hurts. Ears, throat, head, stomach. Have to keep totally on top of taking the codine so there aren't any time lapses to fall into, and keep an ice pack on my neck all day. I'm sure my throat will rip open and I'll have to get re-cotorized like everyone warned me might happen.
Day 5: Nausea starts up. What fun. A little more aware of myself, can go without meds for short periods of time, I think I've burned through all my movies. I start on books and keep HGTV on for the day.
Day 6: Still Nauseous. Chris Redboxes me more movies :) what an awesome dude. Switch to liquid tylenol but... that stuff is all kinds of icky. I think it just made things worse.
Day 7: Saw doctor... she said in not so many words that I am a wuss and that my digestive system is backed up because I've been a big couch potato. And she said everything was "healing nicely" and I could take aspirin now (sweet).
And I'm at today, dreading school tomorrow after so long on my couch. I'm used to planning and stocking binders with fresh lined paper and plugging my schedule into excel and my computer calendar... but I'm not quite up to it. Well.. I thought I slacked off last semester and I got three As and a B, so maybe I'm not a total loss.
I can't help but feel like this is an omen for this semester: painful but necessary.
Surgery Day: Joked with Chris and my Mom far too much about getting a new outfit and jewelry for surgery - the paper-thin gown, incredibly attractive cap, non-slip beige socks, and my spiffy hospital ID bracelet. I neurotically explained to the nurse that I have the most uncooperative veins in the world (and related my horrific heart ct scan story) and she assured me she'd been a pediatric nurse for twenty years- but I didn't believe her until she got the IV in me the first time (hallelujah). They piled me high with warm blankets and I wiggled my toes in my non-skid socks until they wheeled me into a really small operating room with three gowned people I didn't know and the blissfully familiar face of Dr. Blazen. The last thing I said was, "Am I supposed to feel drowsy?" I woke up very very slowly... like not being able to come out of sleep but still being able to hear everyone's conversations. Apparently the surgery only took twenty minutes- my doctor is now my hero. Every time I spoke or smiled or took a sip of water three nurses exclaimed at how well I was recovering. Nothing really hurt too much, it just was puffy and swollen and achy. I was on so much medication, I don't remember much of the rest of that day.
Day 1: Movies, hydrocodone= my best friend, soup broth and vast amounts of water. I also ran into a wall trying to get to the bathroom. Didn't really sleep, woke up every hour or so to keep hydrated and to keep my meds up so I didn't accidentally sleep more than four hours and wake up in excruciating pain.
Day 2: Movies, hydrocodone = still my best friend, eggs and vast amounts of water. Didn't really sleep again, but I'm getting really tired of being so tired and disoriented constantly from the medication.
Day 3: rinse and repeat
Day 4: Everything hurts. Ears, throat, head, stomach. Have to keep totally on top of taking the codine so there aren't any time lapses to fall into, and keep an ice pack on my neck all day. I'm sure my throat will rip open and I'll have to get re-cotorized like everyone warned me might happen.
Day 5: Nausea starts up. What fun. A little more aware of myself, can go without meds for short periods of time, I think I've burned through all my movies. I start on books and keep HGTV on for the day.
Day 6: Still Nauseous. Chris Redboxes me more movies :) what an awesome dude. Switch to liquid tylenol but... that stuff is all kinds of icky. I think it just made things worse.
Day 7: Saw doctor... she said in not so many words that I am a wuss and that my digestive system is backed up because I've been a big couch potato. And she said everything was "healing nicely" and I could take aspirin now (sweet).
And I'm at today, dreading school tomorrow after so long on my couch. I'm used to planning and stocking binders with fresh lined paper and plugging my schedule into excel and my computer calendar... but I'm not quite up to it. Well.. I thought I slacked off last semester and I got three As and a B, so maybe I'm not a total loss.
I can't help but feel like this is an omen for this semester: painful but necessary.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Ripping out the Pieces
So in two days I get to have my first major surgery. I'm actually super excited about it, because it will be the day I triumph over all of those doctors who just gave me codine every time I had a sore throat, and never looked twice at my tonsils. Everyone writes me off when I say I'm getting a tonsillectomy - like because its really common I shouldn't worry about it. But when my doctor said that its "normal" to spontaneously bleed out of my throat and need to come in to re-cotorize the wound... i got a little freaked out.
But if it means when I get sick it will last a week instead of a month... I'm ok with a little pain.
But if it means when I get sick it will last a week instead of a month... I'm ok with a little pain.
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