White Houses

There are some songs that we love, for the sake of love. There are some songs that we love because the story they tell, and those which we love for each line.

For me Whites Houses, is like a stream of memories, at light sped, each with its own pang and its own story.

The first five beats
726 is banging out the notes.

"Five beats to start, 565, you're counting wrong."

He taps me when its time to go. Sometimes i get lost, just watching him play, feeling every note. Here, he has no doubt, no worries, he is the master. I'm trying to remember to breathe, to add phasing and he waits for me patiently. We bicker about phrasing, about slides, but I am the singer, I win. (well mostly, I win). In the end, we have a million takes, the sun has gone down and the hours have flown by. Here in our sanctuary, I do not miss them. Here we are safe, from the world and its endless to-do list, from our relationships. Here we are even safe from each other. Here we are the perfect pair, and we can't find the reasons to deny or complicate it.

Crashed on the floor when I moved in
Arriving at Glisson, I'm nervous. I've never been camping or evenstayed in a cabin. No summer camp. Not even big groups of girls, but i pick bed and make my top bunk home for the weekend. I remember the fresh pine wood, and concern for splinters; sleeping fully clothed because it was so cold. Seeking the face of God in dark night, and praying that the girls that surround me would be sisters in Christ.

This little bungalo with some strange new friends
Stayed up to late and I'm too thin
The girls and I huddle at sleepovers, we're headed to middle school, then highschool. Surely we can stay friends forever

We're spinning empty bottles its the five of us
The pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day, No I can't resist the day
Sleepovers at Lew's house. Phone calls to our parents about how we are just watching movies, leaving out that the boys are coming over to spend the night too. We cover the bonus room with pillows and blankets. Everyone in there own pallet with the boy-du- jour. Liz is making out with Camren, Lew's little brother is trying to bum cigarette's off someone. Everyone knows i'll end up with 726 before the dawn, but the tension is high. Lew groans at the though of another round of pain and tears. But here we ago again, was there a movie or just loud music, lets curl up on in blankets and watch the dawn.

Jenny screams out and it's no pose
Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
I'm so excited I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
Simple pangs of jealousy: Lew for her party skills, Shannon for being everything i'm not. Lbu for always laughing, staying in control and keeping them wrapped around her finger.

The summer's all in bloom
The summer's is ending soon
It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets
In White Houses

Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt

I sneak into his cars cracked leather seats
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
The feel of leather seats, sticking to my bare skin. The heat of the car, with the air conditioning off, as we work to devour each other in the back of that tiny car. The bright glare of sunshine that can only come in the middle of the afternoon in the South. The sight of broken construction tools and cars, that we are hidden between, hoping with logic that only the young and lustful can achieve that surely no one will find us here at our spot; along the back hidden country roads. I cry out, and fear not the pitch and strength of my voice; there are no parents to find us here. Gasping for air between cumming, is the sent of stale coffee, cigarettes, leather, sweat, and the thick slide of heat down our throats in the summer day.

Boy we're going way to fast
It's all to sweet to last
It's alright
And I put myself in his hands
The perceivable feeling of falling, Of letting go. Of choosing not to worry. Will. Joyfully falling

But I hold onto your secrets
In White houses
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades
In White houses

My...First...Time
Hard to explain
College lover and I as we sit on the edge of the bed. Swimming in blue, Tuesday afternoon. The moment, really the moment. Excitement.

Rush of Blood oh A little bit of pain
726's basement. I lie with a pile of pillows behind me, on that old whit couch. I cry out. Broken, blood, tears. He comes to hold me, chase away the demons."It's ok, its ok. Did i hurt you?" I shake my head willing myslef not to hurt. Tears steam across my face. "Shh, shh its ok," and he holds me until it is ok.

On a cloudy day
It's more common then you think
Back to the memory of College lover. The happiness, the randomness, going to see 726 and his gf for dinner, grinning from ear to ear, because of the reasons we are late.

He's...My...First...Mistake
When was loving a mistake?

Maybe you were all faster in me
we gave each other give up so easily
The silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
Coming from college, and knowing that "the girls" are broken. Knowing how we grew apart, it wasn't the distance, it was the lifestlye and the love. We chose to let the love go. I don't think it will mend.

So I go and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading
In white houses

I lie, put my injuries all in a dust
In my heart just the five of us in white houses
And..maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep in

White houses
In white houses
In white houses

A top 10 reason why I love my job:

A 5:30 p.m. Conversation

Me: it should be nap time
or there should be a way I could read while (insert mindless work task here)
that would be great too

Boss: there is a way you can drink and (insert mindless work task here)
oh, wait, you hate beer*

Me: :(
i'm getting better at it
another year or so
i'll prolly be able to stand it

Boss: i think we should pony up and get some flasks

And who says the Mad Men era is dead

*readers note: we almost always have beer in the work refrigerator

Rain Strom

The rain was coming. He loved the rain, said it brought peace. More than rain, he loved the storm. I like to think it was because he had so many storms in his mind, it made him feel better to see some of that manifested on the outside. I, on the other hand, hated storms. I hated to hear the sound of thunder, hated the lightening that was so shocking. I mean he did know that people die by lightening, right?! But that was us, I said go, he said stop. We weren’t total opposites but we were different enough to be ying and yang. I guess that is the way it always is though…

726 and I were different in that we actively tried to merge with each other, to quell the differences between us. I don’t think it was conscious, but it was something that happened to us on every level that I can think of. To this day, I notice myself climbing stairs like him, making jokes like him, arguing in that take zero-sum killer method I developed by fighting with him. I think because of our tender age 726 and I became one person, more so than the average serious couple. I also believe that’s why I miss him so much, he is in so many ways (except the traditional) my other half.

I digress though…

It was storming. The air was electric, the way it holds a charge before it rains. He was excited and I groaned internally. I knew what was coming.

“Come sit in the rain” he said. He was light up like child at Christmas. He eyes were filled with excitement, with joy and with the hope that I would go with him.

“You know, I hate the rain, it’s cold and thunder means there is lightening.”

“Exactly” he replied. His smile widened into a grin.

He grabbed my hand and drug me outside. The truth is, I always wanted to go with him, wherever he went, I wanted to go.

We raced down the stairs and up the driveway. When we got all the way out into cul-de-sac before I halted.

“ I am not going out in the open.” I said with full pout, and a tinge of my fear.

“Please.”

“It’s not happening…” there was more fear in my voice now. Even my pride couldn’t hide that fact that I was scared.

“Ok, just the edge then”

So we sit under the tree on the sewer drain at the edge of the cul-de-sac. I try to convince myself that the lightening will hit the trees before me. I try not to think about how much sitting on water will increase the likely hood of a strike. He, however, is completely joyful, the rain is coming…

We sit there until we are soaked and until I can’t take the idea that being wet is greatly increasing our death wish.

But before we go in, he stops and leans down to kiss me. The water runs down our faces, he smiles and says, “Thank you, I know you hate the storm. I love you.”

We walk back up the house in search of towels, but I don’t really care about being wet or being cold. This is the best storm of my life.

on crack

"Ms. L" work therapist (wt) said. "You are on crack"

A little indignantly, I reply:

"You 've been saying that for quite some time now, like two weeks. Don't you think, maybe, i'm not 'on crack' I've just established a new sense of normalcy?" ( or maybe- i think quietly- you don't really know me)

"No" WT replies matter-of-factly

I pout.

"You are on a journey and you're not there yet"

I pout more.

"But being on crack while being on a journey is not so bad"

Well I'm already off the Wagon

Photo credit: Max Z

Life has a funny way of making you prove things.

I wanted for Lent to write everyday. As a matter of focus, a matter of making time for me. Last week wasn't having any of that. I worked late everyday, and each day was filled with not only stress of projects undone, but the growing intensities of corporate grown up life. By Friday night, i could not even be tempted by food, i only wanted to go home sit in the silence and read. Eventually i ate some yogurt, happy in my living room like it was the finest of restaurants.

If I didn't know i had a work/life balance problem, it's only becoming more clear. The problem is, How do i make it better? To be sure, i don't know and i only hope that is a product that comes with patience, time, and prayer.

As is, i am apparently quite loopy and unpredictable. As if something in me has snapped and all i have left is wacky, sarcastic and creative. I rather like it, but my co-workers seem to think i'm on crack or that i've cracked up. Honestly i'm not sure they are wrong, but i don't think i mind either. I recognize that mind is seeping some, but it makes me feel so much better to dream a little and take time apart to draw comics and make delivsh remarks of my superiors.

I've also been rereading Twilight. I never used to reread things, ever. Once i knew what was going on I simply didn't care anymore. But with twilight, its not that i know what going to happen - becuase in a certain sense you always knew what would happen, but rather that i like feeling with them. For most of my life, i have been in a relationship. Now that i'm not, and haven't been for nearly a year and half, i've found i miss that part of me. Not all of it, becuase in some many ways i'm not really ready for it all agian. But i miss being in love. i miss wanting to deperatly to kiss someone, to stroke their checks, to come up behind them and wrap me arms around their neck. When i read, its like i have some of that. It reminds me and gives me faith (although i know this is a silly fear) that i am still me, a lover, a sentimentalist even though i'm with myself. Secretly I'm terrified that when it is time to date agian, that i will have forgotten how to love, how to make love, how to be coy and cute. I have no fears that i can be patinet and trustworthy, that i can be solid and resound, but i do fear that i will not know how to be vulnerable and weak, not to how to cry and allow myself to be held.

For those of you who know me, these seem like such silly fears, they are so very unlike how I have always been. But when we grow up- when we intentionaly grow, Do we grow away from who we have always been. In part that is our hope, becuase undoubtly we did things that did things that were childish and foolish, but do we also lose our ability to love like a child; have faith like a child?

Loving the Flare taught me that i could love like i had with 726, but i still got burned. Faith is difficult in the fire, even though we have been told that God purifies in the fire, that he forges us. Its still scarey.

Take My Life, and form it
Take my mind, Transform it
Take my will, conform it
To yours, yours, Oh lord.*


*While I've nevder wholey subscribed, and still don't, to the full meaning of this song. I can't help but admire the faith. Life is something we form, we make and when we do, we have to potential to be anything we are brave enough to become.

So Take this Life and Transform It

The little things

There are those people who say "don't sweat the small stuff" and I've never been one of them. As a general rule I'm working on being more patient and more even tempered which might lead you to believe that I am not sweating the small stuff but that's not actually true either.

The truth is I live by the small stuff.

I am completely uplifted but your tiny compliment as I am torn apart by your burn. I will cherish and hold grudges for every glance, every word and every touch. It is, in a way, the secret to my emotionalism. I love every moment. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not the carpe diem sort, I am instead bound by a rather strict personal conduct code and think that carpe diem only works for people who have experienced death, and know what they are living for or people who need an excuse for the random irrational behavior.

But this philosophical discussion is not why I'm writing, I'm here to document my little thing for the day.

A warm bed and loud alarm clock
Burning my bagel and dropping half of it on the floor
Finding out that the 13 year old in me LOVES the Jonas bothers
Showing my crazy boss Hanson
My big boss giving my lame work in as consolation prize for the work they hyped but feel through
Calling college lover despite my pride
Hearing him say "i miss you too" and feeling him mean it
Helping someone at dance
Being walked home more than 6 blocks out the way

You never know what is at the end of the day

Baci moments

Baci are these little Italian chocolate kiss kind of candies and they come with little sayings:

The night is silent, and in its silence, dreams are hidden
K. Gibran

A kiss strikes like lightning; love passes like a storm
Proverbio arabo

Learning not to love others leads to not loving oneself any longer
(anonimo)