Today and most days.

Driving to work. Why was I more concerned with other drivers seeing me take pictures than I was with not crashing my car?

Work.


Working. (Reading my favorite book all day? I know, life sucks.)


Lunch.



And what I've been waiting for all day...

musings

I have never thought of this blog or even my poems as a way to share things with people, as strange as that may sound. I've always written for myself as a way to remember everything, and if other people want to look over my shoulder as I do, all the better. It's self indulgent I guess, and the very act of publishing, online or in print, is a bit pretentious to begin with - assuming that the world would be interested in what I have to say. I didn't come to this realization until I read a book by Ben Marcus called The Age of Wire and String. A decent book, experimental in language and form, but I finished it with the thought that Marcus only wrote it for himself, for fun. (p.s. I know that writing a book is not fun.) But, you know, I would much rather read something a little more challenging and experimental than something written with the audience in mind, something attempting to cater to me, ie. those "chick lit" books about shopping or nannying that get turned into blockbuster movies. I will watch the movies, YES, but the books I could care less for - does that make me a hypocrite? Anyway. Recently I've been thinking of starting a new blog, one that isn't so clouded and surreal, one that people would actually want to read. But ummmmm... I don't want to do that. So I changed my template instead. Ta-da, here it is.

please!

more and more!

You had written a note about me, a life story of sorts, and someone turned it into a play. The stage was decorated in tissue paper flowers and had multiple levels, and like a doll house, the audience could see into each different scene as they all happened at once. For the finale, I frolicked out onto the floor in a grey heather leotard with a frilly pink ostrich tail, but halfway through became self-conscious about people looking at me. What followed was a series of nightmares involving pigeon massacres, Elliot Smith's haunted apartment, and witches trying to burn me with their blue eyes.

Mom asks, "What are you eating at night??"

Would I ever smell the wooden floors again?

I am dreaming in foreign languages again, and standardized tests. I was convinced I was really Answer C when the mumbling  Spanish voice was telling me that the correct answer was a new job next to me, but it was just my pillow and I woke up disoriented from having gotten stuck in the Science of Sleep world again. The new star keeps showing up everywhere, while the old ones are still hanging about during the day, hoping for a comeback. It's almost too much. Stuart and Snoopy explain my sentiments below. 

A new dreamsicle.

An illustrator had turned my book of poems into a graphic novel. I was proudly parading it around at a writing summer camp of sorts in the mountains, but the illustrations were all inside my copy of The Big Book of Illustration Ideas 2. Jenn was there and she told me that Ursula LeGuin read it and wanted to meet me. In the dream I loved LeGuin and was really excited, but actually I've only read one of her stories, and that was years ago. 

Oh and finally, my dreams have found a new superstar. Does this mean I'll stop dreaming of ghosts now? What if I don't want a new star? 

In the news I see pictures of people in the midwest with their faces covered in icicles, but here the sun is shining and it feels just like spring '07.

The dreams are back

just in time for Christmas! Funny, it wasn't Christmas in this one. We were inside doing the things we used to. You had a scruffy face, not at all like the real one. It's so strange to me that I'm always trying to work things out with you in my dreams. Don't you miss me? I asked. Aren't we friends? No and no, you said, We were never friends. I wish my dreams were more dreamlike and less truthful, what's new.

In another dream I met an unhatched egg who looked like an old cartoon pirate and had an orange beard like Matty2Fatty's. A sign of things to come?