leaf mouse

when I was young I loved thunderstorms (I still do). I would stand looking out the front window, the shadows of the raindrops on the window running down my face, watching the shivering trees and the rush of water against the curb. it happened often during these times that I would see a leaf, scuttled to and fro by the wind. . .something about the way it moved seemed so. . .rodently. I would stare at it, fixated. Maybe. . .maybe, it was. there was something about the way it moved. . .sometimes, standing there, I would be sure it must be some poor creature frantically running through the puddles. sometimes I had this strange feeling, like I knew in my heart that it was a little mouse (what a silly thing to know in your heart). I was so certain I nearly ran out in the rain just to save the drenched thing. for some brief moments I would have bet my life on it. . . and then the rain would blow it flat against the pavement. there are times in life when I am so sure of what I want, of what something is, and where it is going. and after I realize it's just a leaf I do not understand how I had been so sure, but yet I guess it doesn't matter because next time I will bet my life on it being a mouse all over again.

18 things

here are 18 things I feel the world should know. . .

1. the icing that comes with the tube of pillsbury cinnamon rolls tastes the way your hands smell after holding a grasshopper. strangely enough, that's not a bad thing.
2. matching your clothes is overrated.
3. roadtrips are not.
4. commitment is sexy.
5. ripped jeans are only cool if you actually made the rip, and accidentally too.
6. don't kiss people you don't know.
7. ridiculous is spelled with an "i".
8. but I'm not picky, because grammar is an invention.
9. early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. it's made me two of those things (the most logical explanation is of course the fact that I'm not a man).
10. it's dumb to like things just because everyone else does. it's also dumb not to like things just because everyone else does.
11. don't drink PBR.
12. you're never too old for a shirley temple. admit it, they taste fricken good (and everyone likes the cherry).
13. it makes perfect sense that everytime someone says the word "yawn" it reminds me of chocolate chips (and crunching through leaves make me wanna say "baklava").
14. get married young.
15. spinach is good.
16. and so are parents.
17. you didn't really make it if it came in a box or can.
18. you don't know everything.

bitter taste

everyone wants to leave a legacy, but legacy lies, not in the grand things you do, but in the small things, and if not that, even if it does depend upon your larger accomplishments, the "small" things you do are the foundation upon which those accomplishments will either stand or crumble. if you want to leave a legacy, make it a goal to never leave a bitter taste in someone's mouth, whether a total stranger or someone close. life is messy and tricky, and people will not always act as they should, but the only person's actions that you are respsonsible for are your own. it doesn't mean you will never hurt anyone, or that everyone will always like you, but in the end you will still leave them with either a bitter or sweet taste in their mouth depending on your actions. live love, have compassion, be selfless. how good it would be if your legacy was to leave the smell of jesus lingering behind you everywhere you go and upon everything you touch. how good it would be if it could be said of you that the impact you have upon every person you cross paths with in this life is to leave a sweet taste.

o brother

o brother, why’d you let my hand go?
don’t you see
that now it’s growing cold,
lost its memory of your skin.
and brother maybe for a while
our hands were clasped so tight
we crushed our fingers,
so for now it feels just right
to spread them wide.
but soon the numbness fades away
and feeling creeps back in,
and brother, winter’s round the bend,
which means cold palms and fingers.
how I’ll wish to run to warm your hand,
but brother I can see
your mind’s made up.
so maybe I will send you mittens in the mail,
and pray you’ll find someone
who loves you with your secrets, like I do,
someone who will know your hands and heart like me,
and never let your hand grow cold.

solo

I am not a maker of rash decisions. but I woke up saturday morning and looked out the window (which is no longer broken) and said. . .I'm going home today. so I took care of things and packed my shtuff and got in the car and left. three and a half hours of highway and fall colors and coffee and music and my own thoughts. it was an exercise in solitude, in the art of being alone. and I loved it. so I had a weekend full of baby and my own bed and dad's waffles, all the while further learning how to be happy with just me, and the little things I adore. I've found that in a way I've sort of lost touch with myself the way you lose touch with an old friend. and so I love my friends, but I am learning to love being alone as well. people who avoid solitude probably are afraid of what they will find in their own mind if left to really think. it takes a certain maturity to really thrive in solitude, to find joy all by yourself, to be content with just the leaves, your bike, and you. and while happiness is better shared, learning to be happy when alone makes you an even better sharer of happiness in the end. so maybe you should take a roadtip by yourself to remind you of who you really are. let me know if you do.

scotch tape

I stick better than scotch tape. . .a whole lot better. it sucks, for me at least. my mother always says "my girls are loyal to a fault. . ." and so apparently we spend half of what should be a good night staring down the street for a car that is never going to come. one minute you're happy indian and the next minute you're crying while you brush your teeth and stroking your own forehead just to try and fall asleep. you continue to defend and believe in those who would rather have forgotten you a long time ago. I'm starting to think that loyalty is hardly a virtue for those who have it. it's like intentionally closing your coat in someone's car door. . .with you still in it. and the people to whom you really wish your loyalty would matter will most likely label it a much baser thing. so it's sort of the virtue of the brokenhearted. maybe someone day it will be good but right now it's just. . .not.