Happy new Year

Writing fiction is hard.
I have fleeting ideas as to what I want to say but
it won't come out the way I want it to!
I have used the kindle fire a great deal
in the last few days
and there are feathers floating on my bedroom wall
and the dreams they catch are dark.
I miss the purr of my cats as they sit on
my back
but the pain of missing them is alleviated
by the smiles of my children.
One of the best statements I've ever read
thank you Captain Awkward and Shakesville
No is a complete sentence
I try to always remember that when dealing
with people.

The holiday season is finally over
but the Christmas tree is still up
and I can still see the train run around the tree.
and the sound is vaguely comforting
I've heard it in every house I've ever been in
at various points in the year and I associate it
with my father
and it is a pleasant memory.
Post holiday fun means
playing with Christmas toys
and drinking sparkling grape juice out of
champagne flutes
I have the prettiest ones, I assure you.
And reading all the new books.
Finishing visiting extended family and
back to normal things like choir and movie nights.
Sharing my music with various people
Wait for my TV shows to come back on
watch violent and awkwardly sexual things
Thanks American Horror Story
for helping me address some truly dreadful topics
once a week.

Playing 'Party in the USA' just to annoy my husband
and spending time with my friends.
New jeans and sweaters and coats
and cigars because it is cold outside,
hopefully, at least, because I still haven't gotten to that,
which is quite tragic and will have to be remedied soon.
And eating the leftover food
and writers block
all over the damn place.

Post-Christmas Insanity

Merry late Christmas
again, I suppose
Kindles and books and music
and happy little boys running around
everywhere, with toy cars and new socks,
trying to knock over Christmas trees
and every one is drinking the egg nog.
Three separate Christmases and one more
this weekend.
Today will be the quietest New Years Eve you can imagine
just being with him is the most pleasant thing
I can think of,
because it is quiet and pleasant
and just what I need right now.
I went and saw Les Miserables.
I cried about 10 times.
It is just so lovely.
I went this weekend to see extended family.
I only cried once.
Ugh.
Christmas wins.
Freezing, frozen Christmas wins.
Fortunately, my children were a huge hit
and my parents bought me two winter coats
which will make going outside a great deal easier.
In completely unsurprising circumstances
he didn't talk to me hardly at all last night.
I could over analyze it, but mostly I just assume he was tired
from staying up all the nights I was gone until 3 in the morning.
Are my feelings hurt? A little, but nothing is terminal
and to be fair, as soon as I got home, I went to go spend
time with one of my best friends. Across town.
For hours.
Because of all of these factors
I feel both less and more stressed.
I've done badly this month
in my writing.
fuck.
Not enough.

Happy Birthday, Love.

Hi you
So it was your birthday a few days ago
and I feel like the worst person ever
because I didn't get you anything.
Even though I gave you fifty dollars
and you said that was okay
I feel like it isn't.
And you won't tell me what you want
for Christmas
and it is upsetting me
because even if I don't have money
I want you to be happy.

And that is what it comes down to
More than anything in my life,
I want you to be happy.
More than my own life.
And you piss me off sometimes
and you break little bits of my heart
in ways that I never thought possible,
but that is the truth of it.

We are best friends and
I've had many of those and
I know that means pain to some degree
because you know me well enough to hurt me
but also well enough to love me
more than anyone.

You love me when I'm sweaty
and when I'm gone the majority of the day
and when I steal your socks
and your 3DS
and when I don't want to play
with you.
And when I'm angry at the kids
or you
and you make me smile
and sometimes you stand outside the shower
and talk to me while I wash my hair.
And deal with my weird questions
and my constant music
and for a long time
 you dealt with my various hostilities
with extreme finesse considering who I
Was being difficult with.

You are my perfect mix of man
and child.
We play together and work together
and I enjoy that.
Try not to be so hostile
and I'll do my best not to
as well.

I love you
and Happy Birthday.

So my holiday blues have become
orange,
and red and green
because I behaved like an adult
and everything was talked out quite well
without screaming or crying and it all worked out
quite pleasantly, at least in the plans for
Thanksgiving.
So there went my major anxiety, which is nice
because my sanity was shot straight to hell there
for a couple of hours
and so now it is late at night
and I am on Ambien
and therefore am very very tired

Holiday Blues

I have been having some trouble writing over the last month.
My word count is way down and all I can think about writing
is how depressed I feel, which is very, but it is still an extremely limited
thing to write about. I feel like there is really only so much
you can write about as far as feeling depressed.
But once again, here I am, trying to write about it
and feeling stilted as fuck.
I feel depressed nearly all the time.
It is the holiday season, which is what I consider
Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years.
I haven't liked this season for a very long time.
Now don't get me wrong,
I like the cold because it is so rarely here in this area
I like the new Starbucks flavors that aren't really new
like peppermint and pumpkin and gingerbread.
Sometimes there is even extra time with my husband
which is lovely and rare
and there are sparkly decorations
and delicious food
and my uncontrollable urge to buy bottles and bottles
of sparkly grape juice
which I then drink in beautiful champagne glasses
or straight out of the bottle, like the
classy fucking lady I am.
And generally there is turkey and gravy
and root beer, all of which I deeply enjoy.

But this year, there will be a Thanksgiving without
my husband
and a Christmas without
my husband
and probably not a New Years without
my husband
and I hate that I have to play divorced person
between my parents and my husband
and his parents.
Because honestly, at this point?
I like my husband most days
I like my parents most days
and I like my in-laws most days
and I'd like my kids to have pleasant holidays
ones where mommy doesn't feel like recharging by being
by herself all the time
and ones where she isn't exhausted by the end of the
holiday time
and ones where everyone can just
shut the fuck up
and play nice for a few hours a fucking day.
Which only happens twice a year
plus my and the kids birthday
which is four goddamn times a year
we all have to shut the fuck up
and pretend we like each other.
and as someone who went to high school
and spent ALL YEAR
with people she had to pretend to like
multiple ones
with only three months a year I could avoid them
I don't understand how you can't just shut up and fake it
three times a year
for me and my kids.

And someone told me on Sunday that if
she couldn't  have me for 4 hours on Thanksgiving
that she didn't want me at all.
I don't know how to respond to that
I didn't, though. I just was like....okay
thanks for letting me know
because I am tired of being the one
who says sorry
and caves
and then feels horribly guilty for spending time
with her kids and husband
rather than her kids and parents
or vice versa
because no matter what I do, I feel guilty,
so one year, I am going to go on a vacation for these weeks
and then everyone will be disappointed
but I will be alone
and I won't be disappointed because I'll be doing what is
good and right for me.

my love, a love story

I fell in love with him
the day we went to Target
and sat down in starbucks
and talked over coffee
which he then told me
he didn't like.

I listened to him tell me
about his life
and slowly plucked
the hairs on his arm
an uncalculated move
and not something I remember
deciding to do
it was around that time
I fell in love
because he bought me coffee
and held my hand
and was kind.


Or maybe it was our first kiss
after the Christmas Eve mass
my arm was broken
and I wore a purple dress
that clashed with my red cast
but I felt radiant
and my parents took
a picture of us in front
of the poinsettias.
and we were both young
and thin
and happy
for that four weeks
but that first kiss
my first kiss
with a man with a beard
it was different
than any I'd had before
"kiss me now"
in a pew at the church
after mass
I felt myself start to fall.
too bad that things that fall
get broken.

and four weeks later
he came over
and told me
I love her
and I kissed her
and I'm sorry.
and he cried
and I cried
and we spent the rest of the weekend together
I cried a lot
and we watched stupid movies
and on sunday
he dropped me off at my house
for the last time
I told him not to contact me
until I contacted him
and he drove away
and I didn't go to school for two days after
because everything hurt too much

but he didn't contact me
like I asked
and I hurt
and hurt
and hurt
and hurt
but because it was my senior year
I eventually let go
and graduated
and partied
and played
and then it was june
and things changed again.