We have this old trucker hat that floats around my house
gathering dust
and clashing with our decor
USS SARATOGA CV-60
But it has a great story behind it.

We used to live in a Navy town
and so many grew up fatherless out of necessity
My grandparents came to visit one summer
and my neighbor's husband was on duty
she was nine months pregnant and my mom was supposed to bring her to the hospital when she got the call
my mom was away when we received the call
and so my grandpa ends up driving this woman who he has only met once before
to the hospital to give birth

my grandpa and this woman ended up being great friends and when her husband returned shortly after he brought my grandpa this hat. Which he wore for the rest of his life.

The other day was a rough day in my life
I spent the afternoon laying on my back in the middle of the living room
staring at the ceiling
feeling like an idiot for being so upset

But then I thought of all of the reasons why I was upset with the world
and I realized
sometimes
Angry is correct
and often
sad is as well

Today work was...
annoying
and hilarious

Sales are down today.
Slow moments and I'm standing there near the counter
meticulously sweeping perma-dirt out of the old cracked wood floor
and Steven walks up

-- A Few Notes About Steven --
1. He mumbles something fierce
2. He always sounds like laughing, even when he's serious
3. He uses many profanities (not applicable to this story, only a little to the next)

and Steve walks up holding a bottle of ammonia
"isn't this what the mob uses?"
I stare at the bottle in his hand wondering what he could possibly mean
then I think I figure out what he could have possibly meant
and I mutter something about chloroform on rags
and he stares at me
and I stare at him
and we stare at each other
Then I understand
and start to laugh
bubbling from my mouth comes
"no we put vinegar in the mop"
laughing still
"that was weird" he mumbles
and walks away

I'm still laughing

----------

Later comes over the intercom
Hey Sharon (a boss of mine)
there's a cat in the dumpster
and Sharon just about flips a lid
She says enthusiastically over the com
"Capture it and we'll keep it in the break room tonight!"
She justifies this by saying that the last cat she found in the dumpster
she accidentally killed with the high/low

So Steven walks past a few minutes later
"that cat is meaner than shit"
I mean to ask how mean shit actually is
but decide to hold my tongue
Because Jeremy is coming over the com

We hear this yowling and he shouts
"It sounds like a Bobcat!"
and some more rustling

Needless to say,
the cat did not spend the night in the break room

----------

Now for the part that wasn't as entertaining.
It's 8:04 and we're closed
but there is one customer left in the store
which is common,
they enter before we close and need a few things

In this case the person needed some help with screen
but she's already been helped
She knows we're closed
some lights are even off
all of the employees are waiting around
All of the grills are inside
and she decides to meander
for ten more minutes

Then she gets to me at the counter
finds out that half of the random items she picked up aren't on sale
and decides not to buy them
and leaves

Who does that?

With the end of children's shows like Mr. Rogers
and the onset of the chaos that is The Wiggles
I fear that one day
my children will be better at making fruit salad
than friends.

Things I fear about the future:

When I inevitably start using acronyms no one understands.

When all I have to talk about is work and my children.

When my children start to resent me.

When the things that drive me crazy about my parents start to be true of me.

Today I was bothered by the relativity of inspiration
how, in a frenzied moment of motivation
I finished a few agonizing tasks
and yet they are nothing

Or when I told you my greatest fear
and you laughed

And when I mentioned my confusion about the future
it was not met with any kind words
simply "yeah"

But what better could I give?

And so now, tired from a day of action, accomplishments
I stand no closer
to anything

I'm starting to get sick of words
believe it or not (not)
My own words
and the ones that run through my head
of waiting
pushing things aside

I'm tired of postponing my intentions
replacing them with boredom
and disappointment

I will do something
perhaps tomorrow
or the day after that

but someday
someday
I will leave this lethargy
that I unintentionally slung over my shoulder
mistaking it for rest
or warmth

instead it's cold and I will shrug it off

I will

i swear.

So tonight at work (come to think of it, it's morning now)
So last night, at work
I'm standing behind the counter calling people to tell them their special orders are in
I had about 15 people to call
and I'm using my phone voice
the slightly lower one
the voice of precision

And this guy I work with walks over
"Have you ever considered going into radio?
You have a very smooth voice
easy to listen to
I believe the word is 'sexy'"

by the way
this guy is my dads age.

so I awkwardly discussed how I always have wanted to be an NPR reporter
and we talked radio

so after the feeling of creepiness
and the urge to laugh out loud
faded away
I started to imagine

Now I just need to come up with a kick-ass radio name
Elizabeth Laine reporting from Kuwait

It felt as if my brain were somehow smaller
like there were some things I just couldn't access
walls
but thoughts began to pierce through
jagged
spiny
it was a time both numb
and feverish

Sometimes when I'm at work I have these moments.
Little thoughts that I felt needed to be documented so they could be remembered and perhaps expanded upon later.
So I print out strips of receipt tape and get them illegibly scrabbled down.

So, Here are a few of them

On Killing Bees:
-The bees look to be in so much pain when they die.
It's nearly human, the agony.
You've snuffed out something so small
but purposeful.

-The Bee Peoples of the Northern Garden Hut are mourning the recent loss of their queen.

On Weather and Things Like It:
-Aw. Nice. Boob sweat.

-My arm hair is bleaching in the sun.

-It smells of "gonna rain"

-I need some cooler pants. It's hotter than blue blazes out here.

Inside and Around:
-Today I inadvertently set someone up for a "that's what she said joke"
A woman comes up to me
she says
I'm getting one of those chairs, a woman told me you had more and that she'd bring one up.
So, I help her check out and
before she leaves say
she was bringing one of those up for you, you said?
she responds
"that's what she said"
a line of people chuckled

-I lost the almost-best pen in the world.
It's just a little bit less than what a perfect pen should weigh
and writes just shy of heaven.
oh zebra, return to me

-A man comes in and says to me
You know, it makes sense that your name is Libby because your hair is the color of pumpkins
I know exactly what he means. I get this all the time
but his wife looks at him
"honey. that makes NO sense"
shaking her head

-It's nearing flag day and this women calls in wondering if we have "Don't tread on me" flags.
No. No we don't. Ethan and I exchange amused looks.

-It's official: Irish accents are best thing in the world.




Things I learned
My ability to think creatively drops dramatically when I'm hot.

I have this tendency.
Every year after school ends
I disappear
for a while
no one can get a hold of me

I read a book (Lord of the Rings)
I (don't) clean my room
I swing (sleep) in my hammock

and then return
my humor a little off
and too many unspoken words in my mouth

So.
If you can't find me.
I'm here.
I'm just elsewhere.

Life hands me lemons
and perhaps I'll make these.
(But in all seriousness, those are some of the best cookies I've ever eaten)

Now if only life would hand me key limes

I suppose I should now bear some semblance to what we like to call
A WOMAN
But I find myself dreading those moments when I have to walk out the door
to go someplace to hug someone
the thought of someones arms around me and mine around them
and the drive there
and the awkward moment when I say congratulations
though. we're both there
And the worse moment when I step out of my car
to go some place hauntingly the same
where I stand in line to give him a hug
but without my fall back congratulations or excitement
I look him in the eyes. and I look. And I say, real quiet
hey.

and that's it.
Here I am.
an adult (mostly)
a woman
and I'm not feeling strong or powerful
because I'm trying to find the words
the right ones
the ones that say every thought I've had
and sum them up
so they mean something
to wrap them in a small parcel of significance and memorability.
but no.
I just say
hey.

Did I grow up to be terse?

no.

maybe that marker didn't mean all we thought it means
maybe I'm still a child
and like a child to whom you request
"use your words"
being able to speak
doesn't constitute having something to say.

I wish for you that you never say
"it passes the time"
in regards to anything you do

I like my job,
don't get me wrong
but lately
I've been missing so much of my life

yesterday my mom's college graduation
today her fiftieth birthday party

I'm off counting geraniums.

You Know.
I'm Going to Miss this.

We're not so good.
But I love it so much.

----------

I've seen how it will end.
Not quite satisfied.
Lacking that little bit of closure.
The One I require.

But There is nothing I can do.

Anxiety slipped of her skin in trembles

----------

No we don't eat that.
That's grub killer.

----------

Today I took down a flag for the first time.
How it is that I've gone this long with out that one activity under my belt?

----------

Fiberglass ladders weigh too much.

----------

I made throwing stars out of old receipts.

----------

My spindly arms are no good against a behemoth.

----------

Who would have thought that work would be the best part of my day?

Worry grew in little rows on your terraced brow.

-----------

APs are done. Time to make my life better?
Like there wasn't time before.

I love getting older. Don't get me wrong.
But you know it's an 18th birthday party
when no one eats the cake.
We seem to have lost the beautiful part of ourselves
that doesn't care.

----------

We were worried about never being by ourselves.
Always knowing where someone is.
Their car parked dubiously in it's spot.
-I didn't want to know that.-
But as I spent this weekend at home alone
and all I did was listen to the same depressing song
over and over and over
I though, maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to have someone around.

----------

This woman is paying for batteries.
Two packs of batteries.
Behind the counter, I'm out of bags
so she stands there, after paying
looking at me
the bag?
she spits at me,
oh I'm sorry, I'm out, I'll see if I can find one for you.

you must be new.
venom
and she storms away.
jerk.

----------

dude. I need some endorphins.

30 days until my life is different.

These walls don't hold us in today.
We don't gather in these halls.
Little scraps of paper give destination and estimation of return.
From the way the wind hits the windows you might think this house alone.
But look at the walls
and remember that
for a moment
we were so picturesque.

I am a particularly wearied individual.
But all things considered, I only cried once today.
That's a good sign.

Sometimes I feel as if my life consists of
school
homework (sometimes)
sleep
homework (always)
school
work
sleep
eat

Mostly in that jagged order
and sometimes I find it difficult to differentiate where I am

Dressed in our finery
we suck in our stomachs

Pretending this elegance comes naturally
and who is this maybelline of whom you speak so fondly?
She must be a real beauty
but nothing to you

of course not.

---

Suck in your stomach
I don't want to see your organs
Not what's inside of you
just the outside
for now

Almost every one of my posts is accompanied by a song. Well, that's my life, every moment is accompanied by some song or another.

This song is one of my absolute favorites.
The music: Perfect.
The lyrics: Perfect.

Every other song I have posted pales in comparison.
Really.
Pale. Pasty.

The Engine Driver - The Decemberists

I'm an engine driver
On a long run, on a long run
Would I were beside her
She's a long one, such a long one

And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go

I'm a county lineman
On a high line, on a high line
So will be my grandson
There are powerlines in our bloodlines

And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

I'm a moneylender
I have fortunes upon fortunes
Take my hand for tender
I am tortured, ever tortured

And if you don't love me, let me go
And if you don't love me, let me go

And I am a writer, writer of fictions
I am the heart that you call home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
I am a writer, I am all that you have home
Home
And I've written pages upon pages
Trying to rid you from my bones
My bones
My bones

(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go
(And if you don't love me, let me go)
And if you don't love me, let me go

Hey, these folks are coming to Calvin on Friday!

But really. These guys are so awesome.

Welcome Wagon 1
Welcome Wagon 2

I'm no longer sunburned from senior service day.
I'm no longer overwhelmed at work.
I'm no longer busy as can be...
now I'm almost a little bored.

That's kind of nice.

Have a good song
Where is my Mind - The Pixies

Today I found out that it's okay to cry at work when all of the ladies you work with are moms and grandmas.

Today I found out that weeping all the way home makes it difficult to see, especially when your contacts pop out at red lights and you have to put them back in.

Today I found out that you make a really good impression meeting your brother's girlfriend for the first time when you walk in the door with tears streaming down your face.

Today I found out that it gets quite a laugh when you, in an immense emotional state, wipe your eyes and say 'don't worry, I'm always like this.'

Today I found out that ... Forget this. I'm going to bed.

It's really about the sweep of the shoulders.
That angle.
The quiet confidence.
Capable without all the pomp and circumstance.

You know the one.

My Brain is a large gray mass.

So say my nerve ends.

I was remembering this time when I was working on my psychology project with some friends. We were paper macheing and laughing at some of the random pieces getting glued to this balloon.
As I was painting over the horoscopes I wondered what mine was for the day.
While scanning the page I exclaimed "Cancer!"
My friends replied "What a horrible horoscope!"
-what? no... my birthday is in July... Cancer...?-

Perhaps it's not that funny on the retelling but in my head it's hilarious.

My Thoughts. They're Growing.
They're Increasing in Size. In Pressure.
My head gets bigger.
My head is a watermelon.
my thoughts are those little white seeds in this seedless watermelon.
but, look, a little black seed
i keep looking at that one black seed
transfixed.
and it grows
it grows a little seedling
it grows another watermelon
and now i have two heads
and they're yelling
louder
they're yelling
Because of a little contradiction
A pithy Misdeed
And Now I Have Two Heads

And they're both torn.

So I got a job.
WOOH!
And not really.
18 hours a week. Goodbye childhood.

BUT
for the first time in my life I will have money.
That means I can actually buy things.

I was telling my list of things to a friend and she thought it was rather odd.
I've been mulling over it for a while and felt like sharing it.

#1. A new mp3 player. My old zen micro photo is SUPER outdated. I got that thing before the eighth grade.

#2. A leather clue pad. I have a cheap regular note book but it simply doesn't have the class of this one.

#3. A mechanical pocket watch. My current one is nice and all but I would love one without batteries. Isn't this just gorgeous?

Man. Saving up enough money to buy those things is going to be tough. I'll probably blow it all on heinously priced coffee and movie tickets.
Well. That's youth for ya.

So last night I'm babysitting and this ten-year-old girl says to me
You speak all proper. I feel like I should be drinking tea.
and I responded, while pretending to hold a monocle to my eye
yes, let us have a spot of tea.

after she went to bed I sat on her couch and pondered
What are the point of words, if not to have a little fun with them.
Why can't I call my friends honey lamb and use "the facilities"
Why can't I refer to films as "moving picture shows" or "the talkies"

Why not?

When you're a kid you learn to communicate what you need.
When you grow up, you learn to communicate how you think.
So I tell that little fifth grade girl.
It's okay that you're a nerd.
I carry a pocket watch.

Life, having neither hands or any other sort of appendages, is miraculous in its ability to hand off its possessions. In addition it is capable of growing lemons in an inhospitable environment. I request, therefor, that we receive the aforementioned lemons with an air of awe and gratitude for they were not meant to pucker your cheeks but instead as a young child's "Look what I can do."

I am thoughts and things
and Ideas and exploding
from the inside

a few words have swollen inside my head
and no longer fit.
they're elbowing one another

life makes it difficult to live
so I blind myself with beautiful moments
chords, swells

I'm having too many of those moments where I want to thrash my arms
but instead find myself
arms pinned tightly to my sides

because if I yelled
and screamed
and was angry
for a moment

what would be different?

We don't talk about those things.
I pretend I don't know.
I'm the only one.
And she likes that about me.
I'm the only who won't bring them up.
She is fond of my cataracts.

I want to tell you these things
because they balance so precariously
like a lemon in a still life
the light just doesn't hit them right

but I don't want you to know it all
not in real words
because then I'd have to face it as well
the truth
against the way
I wish it was

She's is still embarrassed to tell us.
Even though she knows we already know.
To rip off the truth like a bandage.

She left her chest bleeding that day.
Opened up, we could see a heart. Two lungs.
And her sadness spilled out the side.

Us girls, we never know, do we.

Being of the female persuasion, I find that I often misread cues.
Pondering meanings I get lost in potential
then feel like drowning when it doesn't follow through.

Maybe it's not the female, maybe it's the human.
Because I've never been anything else.



Take it Frank
Gotta love Sinatra

Some of you may know, I often come up with these theories...

The other day is was
"People swear more in enclosed spaces like cars and stairwells."

Yesterday it was
"Love and loneliness feel a lot alike, both are fine when you're around people and distracted but when you're away it gnaws at your stomach."

The person who
On those days when my brain sticks
Like a rusty hinge
I watch
And he tells me what I should feel
How I should react

And I know he’s right
In the backs of my eyes
He always knows how to react
When his hands wring the back of the chair
And he stares at his feet
I know I’m lucky
Even when I’m not




"The highlight of my childhood
was making my brother laugh so hard
that food came out his nose."
-Garrison Keillor

Anyone else love Toothpaste for Dinner?
This one particularly.

I've read this many times and each time pondered how wonderfully true it is.
Kurt Vonnegut, though not a middle-school girl, has found a way to perfectly describe my younger years.

Drama so perfectly captured.

If you've ever wondered why I want a banjo in particular
hear this song.
such beautiful tunes

The Dress Looks Nice on You
Sufjan Stevens

I grew up in the sea
Fighting waves
And water
And I was invincible

I increased in size
But not in stature
Like I’d thought I would
Only to find myself

A mere goldfish
Propelled by currents
No longer swimming
On my own

I bought new shoes from Urban Outfitters
and they have came to me smelling of bacon bits
what great misfortune have I suffered in mine life
at the hands of the gods of fashion!

These days I'm speaking only sentences of the not-what-I-meant variety.

I never want to see Faulkner's fat face again.






























Okay, so he doesn't have a fat face, but he does have fat novels.
So full of waste.

Today I was passed a gift from a friend.
She sent me a bag of childhood.
Crayons, coloring book, pop rocks.
And with it, a note.
"just because!
You are beautiful,
have a great day!"

Some people are just too much.
Just the berries.



And now, the best rendition I've ever heard.

I was born in the sea
Twisting
Cell by cell
Face bronze and alive

And I stepped onto land
Sprouting shaking legs
knobby knees
and arms to hold myself

On land I lost
The sand in the wind
And the wind in my hair
And the son by my side

It’s harder
Where the sun don’t shine
The ground is cold
And unyielding

Beauty is a paradox
Know it,
and you lose it
Deny it,
to find you need it

when you told me I was beautiful
I was afraid.
What of it?
Now that I know

Can you tell me?
Quantitatively?
That when I tell you,
You have twenty-six beauty,
You'll believe me?

Today during Orchestra I had an
EPIPHANY
(to be read in a booming voice)
A random time, I know.
But today I realized that I exist.

I'm real.

I always knew that every one around me was real because I interacted with them on a daily basis.
It had never struck me before that I actually exist.
I exist to you like you exist to me.

How strange.
To be honest, it hasn't affected me at all.

I'm not usually a romantic.
In face, I intentionally limit my exposure to romances.
It's a part of myself I don't like.

I don't like when I finish a book and I'm unable to live in my own head.
Well, not like that so much.
There are books I've been haunted by that have made me more.

Sometimes, though, I feel when I've finished some sappy romance
that I'm incapable of perspective
as if I look for all of these romantic ideals
unsatisfied with normal when things are just fine. sometimes better
totally bogus

but this, this is okay.
Get a glimpse of this.
This is fantastic beyond words.

Band of Horses, No One's Gonna Love You

In the books it says I'm studying Physics right now.

Yeah. Not gonna happen.

Have this song in memory of not studying

No Rain by Blind Melon

Today I did a lot of things over again.

I loaded about three hundred songs on my computer from my brother's hard drive.
It didn't work. So I did it again.

I drove into town to bring him home.
Then I drove back again.

I screwed things up that were quite alright.
Then made a joke to diffuse things.

But I only changed my pants once.
Which is quite amazing.
Because I change my pants a lot.



The Next Day...

I drove my sister to the airport.
Then drove back home.

I drove my brother to meet some people.
They didn't show up.
I drove back to pick him up.

I loaded the unworking music on my computer.
Only half of it worked.

My sister's flight was cancelled.
Her phone broke.
I drove to the airport.
I waited outside the airport.
I drove around in circles.
I asked a guy to go get her for me.
We tried to find the cell phone parking lot.
We tried to find his mom.
By the time we found it,
She'd already left.
But we had to take another loop.
Then I drove home.
In the dark.
In the rain.
My sister hit her head on the trunk.

That was today.

Today something strange,
no, different,
happened.

I felt different
for just a moment

the air in my lungs was lighter
the backs of my eyes were a different color
and cold fell off my skin

it was yellow
and it was fall
then it was gone





While this happened I was driving the 4.5 mile intro to "I will posses your heart" by Death Cab for Cutie

Sometimes talking to you feels like swimming through jello.
I want to say something.
I want you to laugh.
I want to respond witty and quick.
I want other people to think we're having fun.
but my brain feels like sludge.


A great song
Radical Face - Glory

we grow old
and creak and groan
ancient limbs
knobby joints
weary roots
curved spines

the angels that stroke our vocal chords
get bored and walk away
to new voices
the angels that used to sit at our feet
stop kissing your cheek
and walk out the door

because the wind
that shakes the trees
rattles your bones,
sit in your chair
place a peppermint
on your tongue
and look at the beige wall

the woman down the hall
hums a tune you've forgotten

I want to post something but I can't think of anything to write.
So here's something from creative writing, how about a haiku:

Olive trees are blue
why then, Crayola, do you
make those crayons green?

As the cold creeps in
the oldest tree trunks creak
like arthritis

like powdered eyelids
in a lazy blue blanket
sails are rocking chairs

As much as I would shout otherwise, I am quite like the Compson brothers from The Sound and the Fury. The one by Faulkner.

Like Jason I am selfish and demanding, holding myself to a standard that makes no sense. Like Benjy my thoughts are incomplete, dropping off at the slightest distraction. Like Quentin’s thoughts, mine can be dark and foreboding.

But maybe I can love like Benjy. Or maybe see the beauty in every ounce of brokenness, like Quentin. And perhaps I can have as little as possible in common with Jason. That guy is a jerk.

Maybe I can be good, if I try. Like they didn’t.

You know those things that just define you?
I've found one.

You've probably heard this before, you know. The irony that people use the works of other's to define their own individuality.

Well I don't care, this song rocks.

Mistress by Sufjan Stevens

I realized something.