it's strange.
when your ex-fiance.
who you haven't spoken to in over 3 years.
texts you from their new number.
and won't tell you it's them.

cook book.

Ian and I were just discussing that we love to cook, but we hate cooking for one, so we resort to the following dinners more often than we'd like to admit.


1. bowl of cereal.
2. grilled cheese.
3. pastina.
4. P B & J, or H, or H and C.
5. container of chocolate frosting.
6. combination of crackers, cookies and whatever you have in the fridge.
7. pickles.
8. overripe banana.
9. cheez-its.
10. frozen veggie burger, microwaved, on a plate with ketchup. no bun.


this list could probably go on and on.

just ridiculous.

everything.


why am i the one apologizing?
i don't have to prove myself to anyone. Ever.

something has changed.

maybe i'm crazy.


in other news.
if Erik flakes,
i'll be driving to Newport alone on Saturday.
while
spending the day
wishing you were there.

i am killing my tv this week.

i have too much to do.
and
so much that i want done.


i spent the weekend being exhausted.

being so busy is a good way to keep my mind off of other things.
things that i, sadly, cannot control.

like
how much i miss you.




because, if it were up to me...
well, it's not.


i lost it this weekend.
i lost it forever.

i searched my sheets.
the street.
the couch.
the bathroom floor.

and cried my cowgirl eyes out.

keeping my germs to myself.

it's all our fault.

living in a den of fears.

i slept and slept.

in my entire bed
last night.

i woke up diagonal.



4amish sonar.
wasn't you.

this weekend:

i am going to wear dresses,
and feel pretty.


and go to a street fair.

and possibly listen to people play saws.

and

hopefully eat nachos.

i will also do the sunshine dance
and
wear sunscreen.

You're all i need.

Making dinner.

all of the coffee in the world
will not repair my head.

and my swollen eyes will remain half closed.


last night
was
more than i hoped for.


unreal in every possible way.


dasein.
kismet.

met a boy in an empty village.
he sat on a curb-side.

his hair was long like yours.

he asked, "are you new here?"
I replied, "no, been here all my life."
he said, "I'm new here." and looked down at his toes.

he seemed lonely.
and
I saw my loneliness in him.

I walked on.
and on.

and
somehow
ran into him again.

he said "hi, again."
and I said, "are you having fun yet?"
and
he said "not yet."

I said, "don't worry, you will."
and
smiled.

knowing.
he has never had to live through a broken heart.

where are the shadows of which you speak?

are they behind a bench?
shaped like an abacus's sphere's?

are they snug in a bathtub?
hidden behind words so true?

are they within a song?
at the foot of a light house?

are they written backwards?
inside the front cover of a book?

are they real?
were they ever?

are they at disney world?
or with a weimaraner named Carlos Tamale?

is a mini lion standing on them?
next to a painting of a giraffe?

i always wonder.

my mind was blown.
by chocolate covered strawberries.

in a box.
with a card.
with two z's.

my new favorite thing in the entire universe.

video chatting.

ha!
weeeeeeeeeee!

funfunfun.

snuggin' with my love.

favorite.weekend.photo.

all i want.

is

to share my favorite things

with

you.

all of them.

like
the philharmonic tomorrow night.
or
mexican food.
or
a rowboat ride.
or
sitting on a park bench
at night
in union square.

and
eating a cupcake.
on my birthday.

center part.
high school style.

i woke up
with
your shirt under my nose.

my arms wrapped around it.
as if it were you.

your scent lingers.



and



imissyou.

whenyou.
stringwordstogether.
withoutspaces.
and
putaperiod.
attheend.

youmeanbusiness.

more memories.

sometimes reminiscing is completely necessary.

like right now.

remembering that crazy storm in central park.
with all of those silly people.
on row boats.
getting soaked.

and us.
underneath a bridge.
and
missing the brazilian girls.

i suddenly remembered why that song reminds me of you.

it's the air of uncertainty.
which always, somehow, turned out to be the best part of it all.



it was always our fiction.

because there,
we were safe from the truths we feared the most.

i hope it doesn't go unwritten.

looking forward to tonight.
but
not to the rest of the month.

July better move by swiftly.

because August shall be full of adventure!

love.

long weekend.

ferry thunder storm.
rainbow.
kismet.
fire island.
paul johnson quartet.
mussels and scallops.
chocolate cake.
little kids.
dancing.

HPP.
dan and rick.
darts.
and
ray lamontagne on the juke.


friday morning errands.
and
trip to mom and dads.
getting caught in the rain.
wii fit.
baby chase.

lindenhurst train station.
felt different this time.

Mama's ravioli.
and
cheese cake.
Vicki Christina Barcelona.
absinthe bar.

Saturday morning early.
wake-up.
and
hit the road.
with egg sandwiches.
and
air in my tires.

fastest trip to brooklyn.
then
subway to Yankee Stadium.
one iPhone.
two headphones.
green and blue.

Yankees vs. Toronto.
water. egg roll. noodles. ice cream.
no cotton candy.
again.

8th inning nap.
and
extra innings.
and
leaving early.

sore thighs.
and
long walk.
down 4th.

evening nap.
and
growling bellies.
and
trip to the Promenade
for fireworks
and
friends
and
food.

backyard bar
and
3:30am trip back to the island.

sunday morning.
passed me by.
afternoon lounge.
with my Dylan.

bay shore BBQ.
with old friends.
and
puppy pals party.
keg of stella.
blueberries.
bug spray.
badminton.

bob dylan
and
an easy chair.

i cannot believe.
that
this friendship bracelet
has
survived.

almost
an entire year.

i have nightmares about losing it.
i have visions of what i can make it into when it finally falls off.
i have delusions.

delusions of its meaning.
of its worth.


why do i hang on?
to little things?

because it's the little things
in life.
in my life.
that make me feel whole.