Thursday, December 31, 2009


2009 was a horrible year. I have lost more this year than I have in nearly two decades. I am coping. It is not easy, but like everything, it will pass.

I was standing in a room full of people I grew up with the other night. People I thought I knew so well, people I was once so comfortable around, people I assumed would be a part of my life forever. I have never felt more awkward or upset. I suppose I feel like I'm someone who easily slips to the bottom of lists. I am not new or exciting or outgoing; I am odd and shy and afraid. And I think most people know and understand that I am not going anywhere, that I will always be around to fall back on when needed. I'm just lonely. My former friends don't answer my calls or messages. I am guilty of ignoring calls and backing out of plans as well, but it isn't because I've found something better to do; it's because I don't know how to adapt.

I stand a stranger in my skin. I keep hearing about people I went to school with getting married and having babies. I see photos of weddings and showers and fuzzy little newborns. And I worry. I want those things, but I can't imagine them ever happening. 2020 is not very far away. I will be almost 30. That is not very old, either, but it is impossible to imagine what my life will be like. The girl who stands at the edge of this decade is still very much the girl who, at 9 years old, could not keep her eyes open long enough to welcome in the year 2000.

And then there are times I realize there is nothing to worry about. I am sitting here, typing, trying to care about semicolons and the sounds certain letters make. My mother is consumed by a Harlequin on the couch next to me. We are absorbed and separate and together and there is the moment we both realize my brother is wailing like a thrasher and has been wailing and he's insane and I turn to her and I roll my eyes and she peers over her novel and we laugh and laugh and laugh and I am home and life is beautiful and there is hope.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Snapshot Sunday

Sort of. Didn't really document much, because I didn't do much. But there was a sunset. And there were cookies. And blankets.

I think that's what Sundays are made of.

You visit the store daily. You remind me of all the people I have ever loved, and your ipod is always in your hand and you openly laugh at tabloids. Your laughter is clear and true and it is familiar. Today, I smiled and I told you to have a good day and I really meant it this time. And then you left. Your hat was crooked and your coat was unbuttoned and you greeted the freshly fallen snow with a perplexed grin. My heart sank and you didn't even know and you will never know and you are my illusion and my secret and I hope that your wife knows exactly how dear you are.

Friday, December 18, 2009


You wished me a happy birthday today.
I thought that I didn't hurt anymore.
I was wrong.

Seeing your name on that text message nearly stopped my heart.
I just miss you. And I feel pathetic.


Saturday, December 12, 2009


I am very, very thrilled.


I have a new camera.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Caring is creepy...

It's a luscious mix of words and tricks
That let us bet when you know we should've folded
On rocks I dreamt of where we'd stepped
And the whole mess of roads we're now on


Sunday, November 22, 2009


After years of begging Dad, we finally convinced him to get a dog. We went down to the shelter on Mom's birthday; all of the dogs were barking and jumping, but you were calmly laying there. You had been abused, they said, and I never understood how anyone could hurt you. We brought you home. I thought you were ugly at first, but you weren't. You were perfect.

You followed me everywhere. You slept in my bed, you waited outside the bathroom when I showered, and you paced around my bedroom on the nights I never came home. Whenever I cried, you'd paw at my hands as if to say "Pet me! It will be okay. I'm here." You loved going for long drives. We had some good ones, didn't we? People adored you at stop lights, because you'd sit there so contently and observe the world.

Whenever I brought boys over, you'd bark and bark and bark. You hated them. And you were right to hate them! I should have listened to you. Remember over the summer, when I had that party? You wouldn't stop barking, so we tried to put you upstairs, but you wouldn't move. We had roughly 20 drunken people crammed in the hallway in an attempt to get you to come up with us. But you never came! Hahaha.

But lately, you wouldn't eat. We tried feeding you ham and rice and chicken- nothing appealed to you. You would lay outside and bask in the November sunlight, barely responsive and so, so weak. Mom was afraid to bring you to the vet; she didn't want to hear what they might say. Last night, we cuddled in my bed. Your breathing was erratic and irregular, and I knew that something was terribly wrong.

This afternoon, I got ready for work. You slowly followed me up the stairs one last time and waited in my room for me to finish. I hugged you and kissed you. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. You wouldn't get up when we called you to come out to the car. It was like you knew, somehow. They brought you to the vet while I was at work. After running a bunch of tests, they found out you were full of cancer. Mom and Dad and CJ stayed with you and stroked you while you were put to sleep. They told you they loved you, that I loved you, that you would not suffer anymore. Please know that you were my best friend, and that I will always love and miss you.

RIP, sweetheart.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

One, through, three

The man with the secret:
I look out the window
to the place on the
driveway where
we sat and your eyes were
brimming with acceptance
so much, too much
that you don't consider me
false only because
you never did

The man with the apple:
your lolling metaphors
do not make me ill
and the disillusions we
feast upon
are enough to murder
the indolence of
a common mind
and I tell you I need
and you nod from your
windowless buildings
will your head fall off?

The man with the sounds:
the question marks you
at the end of every word
cause convulsions
like the pauses between
the songs on the
discs I play
that you make for me
when I am not around

and I don't know what to do
with the coffee cups that clatter
when I turn corners;
they are hidden under
a seat in my car

so I leave them there.

Friday, October 30, 2009


So. I have swine flu.

This simply confirms what I've always known to be true:
I am Miss Cleo.

Call me now.

Friday, October 16, 2009


I was observing a kindergarten classroom today. They were instructed to put their crayons on the carpet and their coloring packets in their laps. One little boy in the back was busy playing with his hands and rustling pages. The teacher requested that he stop, but he continued disrupting the class. I honestly don't believe he was doing it on purpose; he seemed like he was elsewhere.

"Miguel, leave."
"What?" He stood up.
"Get out. Go away."
"Why?" His voice wavered.
"WHY?!" he repeated. His face started to scrunch up.
"Miguel, please go away."
"I want to stay!" he cried, "I want to stay..."

I blinked back tears and smiled; a sad mouth full of secrets,
contemplating the places on my fingers
where I tore away too much skin.

Sunday, October 11, 2009


You will never know the tremendous sorrow I feel.

I am unable to be for you
what you have been for me.

Twice a day, at 11:11, I wish for this to be less true.

I would do anything.
And I hate myself for it.

Saturday, October 10, 2009


You got in my car and
we drove to the ocean
and you noticed
the moon.

You laughed at my stories
and we went to
your apartment.

You touched me
and I watched the plant
in a pot painted
with starved letters
spelling, begging

I fell out of your door
and thought about
the words you said.
I swear I do these things
on purpose.

You told me it was lonely here.
I passed a girl on the way out;
she had a scarf
and she was pretty
but she lowered her eyelids
and I don't blame her
one bit
and yes,
it is lonely here.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Snapshot Sunday

Hahah, isn't that such an adorable welcome?

The drive to work was more painful than usual; Sundays are always absurdly busy.

After work, I headed to West Warwick to have dinner at my Aunt's house.

Lindsey & Amanda demonstrated their fabulous cartwheel skills.

Then we played "models," which mostly consisted of us making silly faces.

And finally, Max. This isn't from today, but he's so CUTE.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

October, revisited.

There are crickets and the sun is falling.

I couldn't breathe,
and it felt similar to that feeling where hours of laughter subside into the occasional chuckle.
So I did what anyone would do at a time like this-
I shoved my window open and thrust my arms out to become October.
Is this where I went wrong?

Maybe I'm just angry at the breath you merge with mine.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Down we go away

For a little less than 10k a year & 4 excruciating hours of aesthetics per week, you too can become a master of nonsense, reflection, and notebook doodles.

(click to enlarge)

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

It's just that...

everything I try to do, nothing seems to turn out right.

A test administered by no one at all,
and I failed.

I just wish that I didn't feel the things I do so strongly. I wish that there weren't all of these unspoken guidelines. I wish that I could be pretty. I wish that my best friend loved me the way I love him. I wish I had someone I could talk to about these things. I wish Ian would come back home. I wish I wasn't crazy. I wish I knew how to handle liking someone so much, but it's never happened before. I wish that you still cared enough to visit me at ungodly hours. Was I so different then? I wish I could start over.

I would have done it all differently, you know.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Snapshot Sunday

I knew this day was going to be terrible from the moment I peered outside. It was rainy. And by rainy, I mean wormy.

It was obviously imperative that I break out the worm boots immediately. I had to get gas, you see, or else I would be unable to make it to work. Unfortunately, I had no money in my checking account, so I had to take money out of my savings. And since I'm terrified of going inside the gas station to ask if they could please put $20 on pump 6, I forced CJ to come with me.

When I approached my car, I discovered that I had neglected to roll my windows up the night before. I thought I was going out, so I told myself I'd roll them up when I came home, but I ended up staying home and crying. Big mistake.

CJ was not exactly amused by this ordeal.

When I got to the ATM, I literally died laughing. Because this is my life. Luckily, I ignored the sign and withdrew regardless. The receipt didn't print out, but I was able to get the cash.

After work, I came home and had leftover stuffing and corn for dinner. :(

Then I went to Anthony's dorm to work on my paper.

And to find him a fat girlfriend. As for the paper? I have half a sentence completed. Beautiful.

Saturday, September 26, 2009


When I woke this morning, I realized how wildly enamored I am with this season. Words cannot express how positively lovely the New England fall is.

Apples. And sweaters. And pumpkins. And hay rides. And corn mazes. Red, orange, yellow. I could just die!

I've never encountered someone like you. Whenever I meet someone new, I constantly wonder if there is someone better. That thought has not once crossed my mind this time. It's just that you make me laugh and you know where Venus is and you say "nice" and you put my armrest up when I'm not looking and you know that I like Sprite and your armpit smells fabulous. And it's just that I feel like I'm not pretty enough or smart enough or interesting enough or logical enough and I worry too much and I'm annoying and awkward and insecure. I'm terrified that I'm going about this all wrong. I'm unsure of what you want, but I could never bring myself to ask you.

Questions, I'm full of them.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Snapshot Sunday

As I attempted to photograph my delicious home fries, Max decided it was best to pounce on them instead.

After breakfast, I helped CJ create an acronym for his science class homework.

Then I organized my desk drawer. It's full of supplies I have little use for, but they're so lovely to look at!

I desperately wanted to go back to bed, but I had to go to work.

So I did.

We finally found the tape for the nametag maker, so I made myself a few new ones.

I was bored, so I pulled out all of the 5 cent bottle return slips to illustrate that many people redeem them (and not just you, dear boy).

This activity was interrupted once I spotted my most favorite man ever. I had Cristina pretend I was photographing her while I zoomed in on him. He is the most divine man you will ever meet! We're making much progress in our relationship. He asked for my first name, and I asked for his. It's Armand. Perfect.

Later on in the evening, I organized the junk drawer. It was ungodly satisfying.

This is Cristina being adorable.

This is the man that made Cristina's heart stop beating. He didn't say goodbye to us, though, so her love for him diminished.

As our night came to an end, I balanced the lottery. It was even. Hooray!

Then I walked to my car, and creepily took a photo of it. I'm pretty sure the people in the car behind me were noting my odd behavior and cracking up.

The End.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Lovely bones

I may or may not have a heart attack.

The Lovely Bones has been made into a movie.

It is such a stunning novel. Though films tend to pale in comparison to their written counterparts, this one appears to be delicious in its own right (especially the glimpse we get of Susie's heaven).

The release date is set for sometime in December. From what I gather, they're planning on the 11th, but I'm hoping they hold out just one more week. What a fabulous birthday present that would be! Now I just need to find someone to see it with...

Sunday, September 13, 2009


Goals for the fall semester:
-Visit Stowe or Burlington/admire the gorgeous foliage
-Navigate my way through a haunted corn maze
-Pick apples
-Fall in love
-Wear sweaters
-Get accepted to FSEHD
-Join some sort of club
-See a psychologist
-Meet new friends
-Visit my grandparents more often
-Get arrested with Dylan Klegraefe

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Paint it black

As you all know, I'm a freak. Every time I go to the bathroom, I look at the shower. And I see this:
And the first time I noticed it, I thought "Hm. That looks oddly sexy. I want to stare at it all day. If I ever get a house, I want everything to be black and white." And then today, in the shower, I reached for the shampoo and cracked up because it really does look sexy, and I'm nuts.

I also painted my toenails black. Every time I look at them, I get aroused. Feet generally gross me out, so I guess the color black must really do it for me. This is bothersome.

The only reasonable explanation is that I have some sort of obsessive issue. For instance, I have been listening to ONLY The Decemberists for the past 2 months. I can't stop. On the bright side, my shirt finally came in, and it's beautiful.

I'm also very fixated with the idea of my closet being organized, which is actually a good thing.

In conclusion, I am making an appointment with a psychologist tomorrow.
That is all.