I really want to post but I’m too busy to get out more than this. Soon, I hope.

Ugh, back to work.

Here is one more piece I’ve written. Thanks for your thoughts on this. I’ve written 2 more but they are too bad to post – seriously.

Laporte

The grandfather clock’s frozen hands point to a
Cramped, cobwebby pantry.
Inside, a pull chain reveals oddities to my child-eyes:
          Bent broom (a witch’s),
                    Dusty jars of peach pit jelly (preserved brains),
                              Boxes of instant pudding (pure magic).

Sometimes we use her wooden-handled egg-beater;
I turn the crank while
Her tissue paper hands
Guard chocolate powder and milk from escaping the bowl.

Another delicious day in Laporte, the door,
The secrets behind them, the wonderful things inside.

I’ve actually enjoyed our poetry unit in class. It was challenging but usually my classes are boring and easy. Plus I’ve realized that I can write a decent poem (as long as it’s in free verse – I’ve tried some of the form poetry and it comes out AWFUL).

Work is ridiculous lately. I don’t even want to write about it.

Had a nice weekend with the fam, and even went out to breakfast with my sister. Just her and I and absolutely no fighting. I tried to be extremely patient, and I think she was on her better behavior since I was paying. I actually heard her take responsibility for the DUI stuff (“I fucked up and now I have to take the consequences”), although she admitted that if she gets to choose between jail and years of probation, she would choose jail to get it over with sooner. I’m not sure she understands what jail time would mean for her long-term, including going through absolute hell trying to get a job, an apartment, etc. @PretendPrincess, we are looking into drug court.

Tonight I’m going to Jen’s house. She’s going to cook dinner for us and then interview me for a paper she is doing on human trafficking (since I so recently studied it). I’m really just in the mood to go home and be alone on the couch, not talking to anyone, but I agreed, and at least it’s a hot meal that I don’t have to cook myself.

P.S. I got the new Droid Razr recently and I lurrrrve it.
P.P.S. Look, that’s me!

I’ve written some stuff I like in my writing class and some stuff that I don’t, but I thought I’d share with you, for better or worse, the stuff I’m pretty pleased with.

1. Creative Nonfiction: “Positive”

The smell of Blue Year’s Eve nail polish is creeping up my nose and mixing with the lingering smell of pancakes to make a punchy perfume in my bedroom. One leg is falling asleep on my comforter, and I’m thinking about how much I hate that I’ve been a glorified secretary for nearly six years. The sound of a Feist song, muffled under a squishy pillow, announces I have a phone call. I see Jerry’s name on the display, and my stomach feels like it has been destroyed by a large combat boot. I am angry and I am scared. The only reason that phony little turd would be calling is to tell me that 1) Ron is dead, or 2) Ron is dying.

At once too dim and too bright, the lights in the hospital room make his fragility painfully obvious. I see a skeletal body and sallow skin, bloody-dry lips, and hands that shake like someone twice his age. Even in this condition, even after a year has gone by, he is mad at me for the ultimatum. I tiptoe up to his hospital bed, around the subject of his illness, and, after twenty miserable minutes, out of the room.

I’m never coming back here again. The words echo in my mind, a mantra, a force propelling me out of the hospital, into my car, and home to quiet and safety and solitude. The second my car door closes the sobs come, distorting my face at first, shaking my entire body, and then easing off until twin rivulets wander lazily down my cheeks, salting my lips, soaking my clavicles. This is why I ended our friendship, because I didn’t want to end up at Ron’s deathbed in the first place. I start the car, something in the engine screeches and begins to smoke, and the tears come again.

In the musty cab of the AAA tow truck, my car limping along behind us, I numbly answer the driver’s polite questions and relive the fight, the angry silence, the feeling that my best friend was going to die and I could no longer do anything to help. What could I have done differently, I think, when he had a habit of going to the bar after leaving the hospital, of chasing antibiotics with ecstasy? Nothing, I realize with absolute certainty. When someone cares more about a good time than his own life, there is no use in throwing your love, energy, and money into saving what he is giving away with both shaking hands.

Later that evening, I make the calls to my family, telling them it won’t be long now, looking for comfort. I am confident that my choices were for the best, and I know I wouldn’t change anything if I could do it over. Still, when my grandmother tells me later that I’m much better off without people who live that kind of lifestyle, a part of me wants to slap the sympathy right off of her face.

2. Poetry: “Ritual” (this is a re-write of an October 2005 post)

I position the tarnished old kettle over my cup and pour the water, delicate clouds escaping, rising.
The steam warms, then cools, my fingers.
I open the fragrant paper packet, sniff the delicate blend of tea and spearmint, and memories return.

At the first tentative dip into the hot water, soft green tendrils reach across the surface.
A rich hue develops as the tea yields and releases, as if paint-covered brushes were soaking.
Moments pass.

I raise the cup to my face. The steam warms, then cools, my nose.
The packet of leaves bobs to the surface and gently presses against my lips, a familiar kiss.
The feeling of the tea as it slides over my tongue and down my throat is nothing short of sublime.

I hope you enjoy and I welcome any constructive criticism or lavish praise (ha).

It’s quittin’ time. Bye!

Bullet points in 3, 2, 1.

• Talked to my sister last night, which was like talking to a huffy, volatile brick wall. Oh so much fun.
• Figured out how to make my villanelle-style poem not suck as much. It has repeating lines in each stanza plus a rhyme scheme, but if I don’t make rhyming word also the end of each sentence, it will be less cheesy and obvious. It’s about Quinn, Daria’s sister, btw. I figured something light would be more fun than a super-emo sob-fest. Who wants to read that?
• Pretty much wanting to kill some choice people at work today. They’re the type who want everything right now, and don’t understand that Photoshop isn’t a magic tool where you can click once and everything turns out perfectly. It’s actually – you know – work.
• Some random photos:

A chocolate-covered, decorated Oreo that was left on my desk this morning by “Cupid.”

My breakfast this morning – cheddar cheese, apple, granola, water. Pretty satisfying.

Kind of a terrible picture of my dad, but his girlfriend Anne and one of her Jack Russell Terriers (Daisy) looks cute.

The other Jack Russell, Chopper. I *just* missed him full-out snoring in front of the fireplace. Awww.

My sister got a DUI a few nights ago. I just heard about it last night – from my grandmother – because neither my sister nor my mother even bothered to tell me about it. Apparently my sister waited days to even tell my mother. She is facing possible jail time, especially since this is her second possession charge (on top of the very expensive DUI). I’ve heard she was terrified to tell anyone, which I understand, but dammit, I feel out of the loop and bummed that she didn’t think to call me.

In some ways, I’m glad, because *maybe* this will be a serious wake-up call for her. On the other hand, I don’t believe jail is good for anyone’s self-esteem, spirit/soul, whatever. And ultimately I feel like it will just cost my family a lot of money and not really do anything for Megan. Her actions have to have consequences, but most of the time, the consequences seem to be for the family, and then nothing gets through to Megan. I also feel fiercely protective of her at the same time and want to throw up when I think of her actually spending any amount of time locked up.

P.S. I wrote a decent poem and a really crappy one. Two more to go.

1. This day, week, month, and year are going by SO QUICKLY. I really need everything to stop so I can catch up.
2. Thinking about Komen/Planned Parenthood, Valentine’s Day, the Super Bowl, and all the other stuff I really want to blog about at Soldiers in Petticoats, and feeling like there’s just no way to get it all done, what with work, school, the side jobs I am doing (copy editing, web content and design), etc. It’s sad, but if I was offered more hours in the day, I would take them (rather than simplifying my life).
3. My creative non-fiction pieces for my Art & Craft of Writing class went over really well (we’re talking no edits but lots of compliments, sometimes embarrassing, gushing ones) with my group. We just started our poetry unit, which scares the shit out of me. Poetry seems the most intimidating of all forms of writing because every word has to pack a punch and be rife with meaning. What if I end up writing horrible, laughable, trite teenage girl poems and then get laughed at or looked down on? Nooo!!!!!!! A tip I got from classmates and the lecture last night were to not write about anything too emotional or personal, which I think is a great way to start.
4. This weekend is busy. Friday is Jen’s birthday and we’re going to Chloé Mezze Lounge for dinner (I’ve never been there but it looks shi-shi and fancy and delish). There’s also this (Unicorn Love Party), but it’s a bit too much excitement/drinking/crowd for me, so I’ll probably just come home. Saturday I’m having lunch with Greg and Paige in FoCo (they will have just gotten back from Hawaii, and they’ll probably talk constantly about it, which will be almost unbearable because I’ll be jealous) and dinner with Dad and his girlfriend Anne (I hear she’s a good cook, so yay to that). Then Sunday I’m going over to Ash’s house to hang with her, Rob, and Jen and have gumbo. I’ve never had it before so it should be interesting (I hope I don’t hate it).
5. Tonight I get my brand new mattress set. YAY! Here’s to a good night’s sleep, finally.
6. Here is my brand new rug, by the way (the non-”rugly” one, absolutely not made of old denim jeans). Angry kitty sold separately.
   
   It’s hard to tell, but the rug is a dark gray / brown color, solid, but with swirly patterns.

   
   I moved the ottoman over (covered with a patchwork quilt because Tilly – that thing with the tail on the left-hand side – likes to dig her claws into the leather). Still figuring the furniture arrangements out.

   
   She was really just meowing, but that picture looks like one of those dead stuffed fish with all the sharp teeth sticking out. Gross!

7. Time to get back to work. This afternoon I will be playing with Photoshop for a project, which should be fun.

This morning started out just *super.* Denver got about a foot and a half of snow Thursday-Saturday. When I got to my car this morning, I found not only a foot of snow to clear off but also a solid shell of ice on top of the snow. I had to hack into it before I could even get the snow off, and then scrape off the ice that was under the snow from there. We’re talking about 25 minutes of work.

Yeah yeah, quit whining, right? Well, first of all…no. And second of all…this was all made worse by the fact that there was literally what could have served as a swell ice skating rink under the snow in the parking lot. I slipped and fell on my knees, and landed in such a huge patch of it that there was no place to get my footing. Every time I tried to stand up, I would fall again (much like Bambi on that iced over pond – remember?). I actually had to resort to crawling on my hands and knees to a patch that was dry enough to regain my footing. Then I had to move my entire car (one little area of the rear windshield cleared, everything else snow-covered) to a different location so I could actually finishing cleaning off the damn thing. I got to work cranky, freezing, soggy from knee to toe, and with COLD DAMN COFFEE. Arg!!!!!!!!!

Some good stuff: My mom came to visit yesterday. We went mattress shopping and I bought one from a hole in the wall place that I actually really love. The salesmen were nice and not pushy, unlike the ones at the big box stores who hover and slobber over you and are pushy assholes. I feel SO GOOD that I didn’t buy anything from those people. The place I bought from was small and dingy, but the people were nice, the mattress was well priced and so comfortable, it contains soy in the foam instead of chemicals, they charged me a lower delivery fee than they were supposed to, and the whole experience was just laid back and pleasant. I’m excited to get my new comfy mattress on Thursday!

It was also just really nice hanging with my mom. I would say our relationship is much better than it once was, and I find I’m not really angry with her anymore like I used to be. We shopped, got Vietnamese take-out and went back to my place to finish the last season of True Blood. It was just nice, relaxing, and comfortable. I love days like that. Extra bonus? I didn’t hear any whooping and hollering (yes, I said hollering) from the Super Bowl watchers, which almost never happens. I’m planning on watching the commercials at some point, since I recorded it.

Tonight I have my Art & Craft of Writing class (every Mon/Wed evening), which is in the tiniest, most cramped and uncomfortable classroom you’ve ever seen. I barely fit in the desks so the entire 65 minutes I’m miserable.

I leave you with an amusing picture from yesterday: the ugliest rug I have ever seen. Note the $179 price tag.

I have a new post on my other blog (Soldiers in Petticoats) if you want to check it out.

Also, I’m curious as to who will be watching the Super Bowl. From what I’ve read, 70% of Americans are expected to watch. I actually hate football quite a lot, but I’m thinking of recording it just to watch the commercials (the best part, obviously) and blog about what I see from a feminist perspective. It could be pretty juicy.

In other news, I’ve been feeling like I have to fart since last night but nothing is coming out. Wtf.

Facebook is annoying, and I miss blogging and having a community of readers/friends. Let’s rally.

Update (with cleverly organized and oh-so-original bullet points – the ROUND kind!):

• Ok, first? *facepalm* for what I’ve written already. I’m really sleepy but also highly caffeinated.
• I’m definitely regretting the lack of posts all of last year. I feel like I can’t remember a damn thing that has happened. That stops this year, both because my memory blows and because I need a healthy outlet for my feelings.
• I spent the first 2 weeks of January taking a grad-level course in Human Trafficking. We’re talking an entire semester crammed into 9 super-intense days. The class was incredible, but I kind of wanted to kill myself by the time it was over. HT involves some of the shittiest human beings in the world, and hearing in detail about what they do to their victims is heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching, every kind of wrenching. (I aced the class though – silver lining.)
• On December 16, 2012, I AM GRADUATING FROM COLLEGE!!! Yes, me, the person who has been bitching about working full time and going to school since August of 2005. It’s finally going to happen. I have my classes this semester to get through (Art & Craft of Writing, Prejudice & Discrimination in Contemporary Society), then an independent study this summer in Feminist Blogging (how amazing is that?!), then just one more class and a 1-credit weekend thing to deal with and I’m done! Just thinking about this lifts me up when life is feeling stupid.
• In my spare time (*scoff*), I’m on the planning committee for the Colorado Teen Literature Conference. I’m using social media to get the word out, crafting and sending press releases, etc. My official title is “Social Media Maven”.
  
• I haven’t been singing with the chorus because I just got way too ambitious last year and then felt completely overwhelmed and couldn’t handle one more thing going on. I may or may not sing this year, either, because I know I’ll be going 900mph until graduation. I do miss singing though, and I’ll consider going back to the chorus if 1) there isn’t any stupid drama going on, and 2) I can’t find a higher-caliber chorus. It’s great that all skill levels are represented, but honestly I want something a little better. I’m not a pro, but I can read music and hear perfect pitch, so I don’t want to be dragged down by people who aren’t there yet. (Not meant to be a bitchy comment, but no matter how I write it, that’s how it seems.)
• Things at work are busy, ridiculously so. I’ve gotten to that point where the wonderful things about working here (the people in my unit, the freedom I have to do my work without being micromanaged, a wonderful and laid-back boss, continuing education from tech experts, steady work and paid holidays) are just barely evening out the things that I hate (bureaucracy, declining wages for the last 5 years, no opportunity for advancement, not working in a field I’m truly passionate about, truly unrealistic work load that keeps increasing). I went from supporting 2-3 people to 13 people to 14 people plus babysitting an incompetent admin and taking on nearly a quarter of one of our consultant’s job duties. I keep wondering when the hell it is going to be enough. My pride and work ethic won’t allow me to not meet goals or get things done no matter how much I resent it, but there’s a part of that believes if I just put my foot down or started doing half-assed work, I wouldn’t get asked for things as much. Then again, it could get me fired, which is terrifying in this job market and economy.
• I’ve become a real stay-at-home person lately (well, even more). I’m SO happy just being in my apartment with peace and quiet and the freedom to do whatever I want. Since Nick is in South Korea (next stop: the world) for several more months and Robert is wrapped up in a pyramid scam/cult and never calls, it’s pretty much me, Jen, and Ash. In the past I might have felt abandoned by this but I’m really OK. I see Greg and Paige when I go to Ft. Collins sometimes too, but really it’s only a few times a year these days. In some ways it’s good though, because we are glad to see each other and we don’t get on each other’s nerves (they have recently gone gung ho with being Catholic, which clashes with my atheism if we don’t keep ourselves in check).
• Speaking of G & P, they introduced me to the best. game. EVER. over Christmas: Kittens in a Blender. Seriously, go buy it now. I love it more than Clue, brie, and Daniel Radcliffe (but not as much as Scrabble, feta, or Robert Pattinson, OBVIOUSLY).
  

That’s all for now. Ta-ta, toodle-ooo, and tut-tut, it looks like rain.