Vanilla with Salt

aidosaur:

OMIGOSH IT’S A CONTEST

Hey Chickadee is a small company run by two pals of mine — they make apparel and jewelry designed by a spread of super-talented artists (Jess Fink, Emmy Cicierega, and Miss Monster to name a few).

I’ve now done two designs for them (the matryoshka doll pendant/earring design in the banner, as well as a Musicians of Bremen tee design), and Andrew and Claire were nice enough to give me a $20 gift certificate to give away!

So here’s the rules: Reblog this post (‘liking’ doesn’t count, sorry) and you’ll be entered into the contest.  Next Tuesday (August 2nd, a week from today) someone will be randomly chosen to win the gift certificate.  I’ll make a crazy blingee with the winner’s username, because I guess that’s what I do now.

Thanks, guys!  Have fun!

No make-up today, but at least I got dressed. I slept in past eleven and ate apple pie for breakfast. Blew off an awesome bike date and played World of Warcraft for much too long. What’s wrong with me?

I’ve gotta get out of here.

Lost Labrador-retriever
-greyhound mix.
I stink of Morgan’s perfume,
spice-musk-sass
blended with malt
and hops for the perfect
stench of “fuck you”
another lost afternoon

.

your family’s looking for you, dog
uptown signs scream your name

through four neighborhoods

.

you won’t be found

.

through tarp drawn signs
posted on chain
link fences, electric poles,
message boards
gone
like a wasted afternoon
faded like Morgan’s perfume

I realize now why it hurt so badly to watch you hit on that less pretty mess-of-a-girl last night. It wasn’t because I was jealous, it was because you were showing me that you have low standards.

Ouch.

I know you’re back, but I’m not going to look for you. You aren’t allowed to be the zombie in my life. But if it happens, well, I understand that that is just how bad love goes. You love to interrupt my life. At least I’ll be prepared this time.

it’s 3am, all I want

is a familiar song on

the radio, anything

to shake me down from a night

spent combing fingers through dead

ends damp, work sweat, mascara

smeared face down, beer runs, pick-ups

empty now with that bottle

that should have put me to sleep

but it didn’t—some stranger

to me wants to fill my bed

let him or not I’ll still sleep

alone, and the radio

still won’t play El Scorcho

Things I have learned being 22:

• You can never really know people. I now have a much better understanding why the Spanish language has two different verbs for “to know.” Usted puede conocer a una persona. Pero usted nunca puede saber una persona.
• Romantic relationships are things that can only really be understood by the people in the relationship. Everything else is merely 3rd party speculation, gossip, and kind of a waste of time.
  
• Conflict is important. Not usually fun, but important and more important that I thought in writing.
• Tequila = insane nights, but Four Lokos = even crazier. They’re called loco for a reason.
  
• It is never worth wasting time on people who treat you less than human. Broke or not, I still do not regret my current unemployment.
• I am a poet. Fiction writing might be what I want to focus on, but I am going to have to figure it out like Sylvia Plath.
• I lack direction. Accepting I have no clue what I want to do with my life and all the other responses were just bullshit was a more difficult realization to come by than I thought it would be.
• Being a billy goat might not be fun, but it seems to be what I am. My mom told me about this story she read once, years ago, about billy goats. They climb to impossible heights jumping from tiny rocks and cracks on the sides of mountains. To an observer, this would seem frightening and catastrophic, but the billy goats seldom stumble or fall. Sometimes it takes them time to make the next step, but ultimately they know what is the best path for them. My mother then told me that this was why she didn’t really worry about her daughter, the billy goat.
• People are great, and companionship feels awesome, but ultimately you can only ever rely on yourself. The more I depend on people, the more they surprise me (unfortunately in the most negative ways). I do not intend to live life alone, but my foundation must always be strongest in myself.
  

Twenty-two has been a difficult and exhausting age, that I wrongfully assumed that I wouldn’t want to move on from. I am ready to turn twenty-three, because I feel that there is not a great deal less that I am unprepared to handle.

That’s how long the world has somehow kept on turning without you guys, despite my own feeling a little halted.

My First:

1. First best friend: Steffi Gerow
2. First kiss: Sean Fitzgerald on St. Patrick’s day, while I was supposed to be giving him his Confirmation interview in the game room of the St. Patrick’s Youth House. Yeah, I was one of those naughty Catholic school girls.
3. First screen name: cactuskitty14
4. First funeral: Doris’s husband
5. First pet: Herman, a snail my mom caught for me from my abuela’s garden. My mom made him a little house out of a used mayonnaise jar and I brought him into preschool show and tell.
6. First piercing: My ears and that was the first time I ever had ice cream.
7. First true love: He wasn’t very true and I never really said it, but Sean Fitzgerald (as much as I hate to admit it).

My Last:

1. Last cigarette: December 23, after dinner with my brother. It was the first cigarette I ever smoked with a member of my family and it will be the last cigarette I smoke for a long time (hopefully ever).
2. Last car ride: Matt drove Suzy and I back from our dinner at Pizza Nova.
3. Last kiss: Last night (or rather early this morning) with someone I should not have been kissing, but cest la vie!
4. Last good cry: I think it was Saturday, January 16th, after telling my parents about the funeral. However, I’ve cried since then, but it’s been more tearing up. And I wouldn’t call any of it good.
5. Last library book checked out: Blonde by Joyce Carol Oates
6. Last movie seen: Gantz
7. Last phone call: Suzy called me this afternoon while I was out with Luffy. She wanted to express her anger towards old people texting while driving.
8. Last time showered: This afternoon because I reeked of booze. It was disgusting.
9. Last shoes worn: My sandals.
10. Last CD played: Tegan and Sara’s If It Was You
11. Last item bought: A new journal for the new year.
12. Last annoyance: Indecisive customers at work yesterday.
13. Last disappointment: The Chickenfucker’s text last night. However, it was not even close to being one of the biggest disappointments recently.
14. Last shirt worn: My Lancers shirt. :)
15. Last song you sang: Some disco song that was playing on the radio while Matt drove us home.

My Current:

1. Current mood: Exhausted and a little sad.
2. Current taste: I have a slight garlic-olive oily flavor still left my mouth from dinner.
3. Current hair: Shorter, blond and adorable.
4. Current clothes: Sweats, Lancers shirt and my Berlin sweatshirt.
6. Current desktop picture: Amber
7. Current book(s): Alice in Wonderland, Haunted, & Eat Pray Love
8. Current color of toenails: Rescue Me Red
9. Current time-wasting wish: That I could restart January with the knowledge  have now.

marco bleaches away grief.

he snips the weight of despair,

the love lost,

the strongest sense of loneliness

known from being alive.

you have inflicted this

upon me.

he cuts dead weight,

stagnant disbelief—

creating a physical manifestation

of all I have lost.

my scalp burns

as my chest continues

to be crushed under the sudden,

always unexpected,

blows of grief

the divine torture

your hands have caused

us.

however marco knows

(as i know)

that he can chop,

bleach,

color,

and kill—

no superficial loss

could ever sufice

to equate the agony

of being left behind.