an apology

an apology note from an old friend made me think… what does “sorry” mean, anyway? one single word against a load of pretty bad actions. it doesn’t seem fair, but a seemingly sincere “sorry” can overpower ‘bad’ things , i guess. maybe. right? and, i mean, ‘bad’ ? what is bad, really? so… i guess it’s better to read a short, informal apology note– a surprising “sorry” , than to be illiterate. /sober sarcasm :) so, apology accepted.   waitaminute…. hmmm… (not that i am searching for one!!) but, i imagine…

still life with pail and stick

Q: what did the stick say to the pail?     A: nothing. they are both incapable of communicating. they just sat there getting rusty and old. lifeless. unable to move on their own. simple, inanimate objects. ppppBUT …. if they had a voice, i imagine the stick would say to the pail, “hey, you look a little pale!” and, the pail would reply, “c’mere, stick, so i can hit you with yourself !” :) and the audience (the lifeless chairs and trash cans) would laugh and laugh. the end.  …

Um, party of one.

there’s always room for breakfast. well, sometimes, there’s just not time for it. breakfast can be something to look forward to. you go to bed and think…hmmm… what am i going to do tomorrow? what exciting thing am i going to come up with in the morning? who’s going to like this or that? and what does everyone feel for? but , when you can’t figure it out… well, at least you know you’ll have breakfast. and, even if it’s not the most gourmet, or  the most leisurely breakfast and you find yourself eating…

someplace

  sometimes, you may feel handicapped, and you feel you’ve chosen the wrong place. you have to remind yourself where you want to be, and you have to vocalize where you want to go. you want to visualize the road ahead. you make a plan but it’s still too vague. sometimes you look around and see brave faces, and you remind yourself you have what they have. you have your legs and your feet, your arms and your hands, your brain and your heart, your eyes and lips. you realise you’ve…

champagne and french fries

maybe you know this or maybe you don’t. i love champagne. i love chips. and i love fries. i love champagne with fries. that can be my dinner. and it’s how i celebrate. celebrate anything. i kick off my shoes (or flip flops) and pour a glass of champagne and get my salty fries. what do i celebrate? too long to list. but it’s anything from: an unexpected, sweet bird pecking at our kitchen window. to newborns, to ‘i quit my job’, to ‘i got a job’ , to ‘i met…

the convenience of insanity and loneliness

    the moment you hear their laughter and see their smiles love passes by in full speed. and, when they’re gone, loneliness weigh you down. heavy and in slow motion. and with love’s circumstances, you feel numb. you hear a clock ticking. you’ll hold on to forgotten breaths. and, then melancholia intrudes. it harbors doubts. yet, you’ll find your own way through a muted, stagnant gloom. and with all your knowledge you’ll make your own light. but you’ll sense slow movements as you teeter and, sometimes you hear a comforting ring. and you stare at the telefone.…

my very own running soundtrack

the reason i plan on running the l.a. marathon, is… well, no real reason other than peer pressure (hee) and well, it’s on Valentine’s day. favorite day. it’s so cool that we dedicate one day for all things cheesy and hearts. and i told my family, i’m not a runner. so i will run with my heart and my legs will follow. or my legs will take me there. something cheesy like that. LOVE!!! :) but i’ve been forgetting that, lately. i’ve been forgetting the cheese and saying things like, “what…

take center stage

Well… i was thinking…Nothing big, nothing original, nothing that hasn’t been already said here and there and in other places… should i color my hair…?  i mean, my gray is really showing, what the hell?! but then i thought…i like gray hair… and wrinkles… …but, not on me. the wrinkles, i’ll take. the gray hair, not so much. :)     ahem, yes, I was thinking: WOW!, we go through, and, seamlessly, pass from one stage to another, in life. i mean. hee. Mostly, most times we don’t even recall or…

lalalalala…

primal and maternal instincts tell us to protect and love and survive. in my home, i would not take a group of people that needed help if i knew that in that group there were a couple that could cause great harm to me or my family or my neighbors. i’m sorry, i’d turn every single one of them away. feeling guilty , i’m sure, but i would dismiss the fact that there may be a bunch of good people in that group, knowing that there is one that’s dangerous… because my…

the thing about wine and relations

a glass of good good wine will let you forgive and forget, even your worst relations. maybe. but, sometimes, it will make you remember the good and the bad alike. it will help you lure others in to your way of thinking. it will make you pouty and shed a bucket of tears when no-one thinks like or agrees with you. Or , because of other things forgotten or missing. it will make you roll your eyes, and at the sametime, somehow, sympathize with the cry-babies. (ah sweetheart, dry your eyes, gah!) it will…

Skunked wine and tribulations

two feet from the bus stop, at traffic light. at the corner of laurel and ventura. a man in a long sleeves tee-shirt. it seems like the tee used to be white at one point. he is wearing pants. not sure what kind …all i see is filth on them. they seem to be army style… cargo pants. (love those pants) he sits hunched over in a wheel chair. but he isn’t waiting for the bus or to cross the street. at least it doesn’t seem that way.. he seems…

coffee and dark sky and love at the window

grab some coffee… and what ever else.   everyone stops and break for love… and all we dream about is love. right? i mean, don’t you ? that’s all. we just day dream… love in the morning and love in the afternoon. and, love,  while the lunches are being made. and the morning rush hour is making us curse underneath our breath and fowl language is forcing its way out between our tight pursed lips…love. all we want to do is sit down and say fuck it. …i love you…. (be late to…

your life inside simple episodes

it’s kind of mad and unreasonable, no? but…sometimes that’s how we can be… a little nutty and irrational at times. I mean to think that…well.. sometimes things that  feel so powerful and are so important to us , like love or being in love and friends and family, take up our whole entire life… while, sadly, others only see these things as  some kind of trivial little episodes they’re  participating in… or only see themselves as simply passing by in our life.     and, then …it hits you. It’s…

the elephant in the room

does every household have an elefant in the living room ? i’m sure they do. sometimes it’s wild and pink other times it’s bleu and too mellow and… ….other times it’s tamed and contained in a frame.   Bou’s art when she was 3, and 7. she’s a doll. each piece of art she paints she tells me it’s just for me. (i think charlie will have to not read this. hee.)

someone’s at the (back)door.

when you have known a person for a while, and they tell you, you are their friend, and you consider that they are your friend… but, for some unexplained cryptic reason, they still refer to you as “someone” to all their other friends, well, that’s when you know, you should stop being that person’s “someone”. hee. (are you still with me? or did i lose you, again) but , really. “someone” is for a person you don’t know… for a person you ran into at the subway. at the market. at…

i love words. and there are a few magnets in the world.

…and i don’t speed read. i tend to re-read and contemplate over words…over and over… and over. i like to pay close attention to each sentence and hear what you’re saying and writing. i like to know what is going on in your world. whether i read your narratives or letters or texts or messages or stories… …well, they paint a picture in my head. and if i look at a foto it tells me a story… i take a while to look at things. i take a while to…

up and down

when you pace a room… you pace up and down a hallway… and you look back… you see all those terrible things left behind. some things, you feel guilty about. some things, you feel sad about. Some things , you feel weren’t taken care of properly. they are still there. all those things that make you worry are  there.. and they’re running behind you. (run faster!!! they’re catching up!) they’re pacing up and down with you.     you should…. stop… turn around…. face them…. and take care of them.…