here i am

I have no idea why I haven't been writing. No fucking clue. Anyway, I will soon again. If anyone's around still to care. (and even if not) M

At 5:00 this morning an airplane took my baby brother away to the land of sun and sand. That plane carried away my heart ... Took away the one person in my life who knows me well enough to always call me on my shit ... The one with whom I can talk about anything in the universe ... Who makes me laugh until I can't breathe ... Who always fixes my muffler and my brakes ... The most honest man I know ... Who threatens to beat up anyone who would cause damage to my soul, and never loses patience trying to coach me through a hopeless attempt at a bank shot ... The one who isn't afraid to say and do the things that are real ... The one I know will find his way someday ... The one who hugged me for 10 minutes last night, and risked his macho card crying after I pushed a wad of bills into his hand, to help him on his way. Somebody better take care of him, 'cos I find myself once again at a crossroads of our lives where I can't anymore. M

5 wrought iron dancing people with straw clothing - ostensibly of african persuasion. 2 light blue votive candles in some sort of 'ocean' or 'rain' scent. A wooden "Teachers Have Class" door hanging, complete with dangling wooden pencils. 2 mugs - one ugly, one lovely. (The ugly one proclaiming me to be the Best Teacher, the lovely one with an art deco rabbit hugging a heart, and saying "I love you so much" inside the rim). 1 metal silhouette of a cat, with a tiny string to hang it ( where? ) by. Two wool skirts (1 red, 1 blue), and a blue hawaiian print sundress - none of which will fit me nor will I wear. A perfectly drab looking tiny windchime that makes the most beautiful sound.. 2 dollar store "Balance for Your Life" CDs - Peaceful Ocean and Deep Sleep. 1 birthday card with a photo of an ancient skinny woman doing a leg lift against a bus stop sign - the inside of which reads: "As long as you can get it up, you know you're n...

cold brown rice cooked with lotsa olive oil and veggie boullion disappointingly marginally wilted spinach salmon marinated with pesto that I cooked on thursday (tastes like steak for some reason!) cucumbers (not english ... the store didn't have any) tomato basil feta a few basil leaves torn apart hastily lemon juice white balsamic vinegar sea salt cracked pepper a fork that matches none of the other forks in the drawer

It's fall. It's crisp. It's good. I'm back running again (after a couple weeks of tired-ness, sick-ness, other-ness). I'm sort of set back, but it still feels really damned good to be out there. I forget. The run of our play is almost done, and I am super burnt. I am glad it's been done, but I can't wait for it to be done. At work I am a juggler of lightbulbs, a perpetual spinner of precarious and beautiful, brightly colored, idiosyncratic tops. And then every now and again I have the presence of mind to just step back and watch. And I see. And I remember why I do what I do. And it's very kickass. Someone gave me an Azalea for my birthday. Someone who obviously does not know my reputation for being a murderess. I'll keep you updated on its fate. It's gorgeous. My camera has been borrowed and not been returned, but if she's still kicking when I get it back, a portrait, I promise. M

Al momento de empezar a escribir, se me van volando todas mis palabras. Ayer por fin fui de nuevo a correr. No había ido desde que empezó la escuela. Tan cansada. Tan ocupada. Tanto. Pero ahora - a empezar de nuevo. A veces me siento tan sola ... pero a veces agradezco al cielo tener el derecho y la oportunidad de estar sola con mis pensamientos, mis proyectos, mi alma. Soy, mas que nada, al final del cuento, una persona muy solitaria. Ésta es una de esas noches. Mañana pueda ser que me siento diferente ... M

I know it's boring to be happy an' all ... But ... My nightmare of a birthday dream didn't come true! I had a lovely, spoiled and be-gifted day. I felt very, very loved. I had this feeling come over me at one point last night. I just felt at home in my skin and at ease and finally grown up. I felt free. I feel good about 30 now. It's all good. I have people in my life who care about me and think I'm tops. I enjoy my work and am fulfilled in what I do. I am engaged in things I care about. I am talented and dedicated, beautiful and whole. I live a full, rich, healthy, vibrant life. I am the person I hoped I would be when I grew up. Don't get me wrong - I had my tearful moment yesterday driving home at dusk listening to Jackson Browne and lamenting my un-mated-ness. But it just was what it was ... A moment. All things considered, I'm cool with 30. M

It's here. M

The first time I saw D was my first day back at school the first semester of my sophomore year in college. When I opened the door (after my last two roommates, dreading who or what I might find when I entered), I saw her squinting at me from against the radiator at the far wall of the tiny rectangle that was our dorm room, smoking a Marlboro Light 100. I'll never forget the brand she smoked. They fit her. They were slender and inconspicuous, the box long and cream and white and somehow common but sophisticated. I don't know what it was, and I'm trying to remember it now - it frustrates me that I can't - that told me in an instant that we were kindred spirits. She was beautiful, slender, native american. She had almond eyes and high cheekbones and long brown hair ... we shared a sort of eclectically funky style. She was fond of loosely woven brown sweaters and a sort of rust colored lipstick that brought out her eyes, hair, skin ... she wore too much makeup to cover old ...

I'm just writing 'cos I should be writing. I'm so supa dupa tired. I've gotten precious little sleep all week. I'm fighting off a cold (as usual). I'm now working full days whereas last year I was only working in the afternoon. The days of leisurely mornings sipping tea, munching granola and finding it easy to find time for a run are now a distant memory. I need a whole new M.O. I've never been good at this 9-5 gig. Then I still have all the crazy assortment of random other commitments to attend to evenings ... and I just can't seem to make myself get to bed at a decent hour. The night owl dies hard. So I get run down. And that's about it. Eh. Boring. Tonight we had our back to school picnic. It was lovely. It's nice to see the kids outside of the classroom context. To sit at a scrubby picnic table and eat fresh tabouli and sticky watermelon and listen to a half hour's worth of senseless knock-knock jokes (they are appreciative of my laught...

I woke up this morning at around 3am - sobbing. In my dream, it was my birthday. The entire day had gone by, and the wan light of dusk was filtering through the half drawn shades. No one had acknowledged my birthday in any way, shape or form. No party, no cake, no card, no phone call, not even a "Happy Birthday" in passing. It hit me like a sonic boom of vacant pain - I'm 30, I'm alone, and no one loves me. I started to cry, woke myself up crying. And just kept on crying until I fell back asleep ... M

... Nothing I can say. I can just scream angst into the void. This country. Fuck. M

Well, here I am. It's another muggy humid day. It's Saturday. I should be resting, and I did rest ... but there's lots to be done, and I'm in one of those moods. One of those letsgetstuffdone! moods. I have to take advantage of them while they're here. So I napped, and now I'm ... well ... I'm getting stuff done. It's been a hectic week of too little sleep and nine million things to keep track of as I begin to prepare for the school year to start. It's always the same - a little daunting, a little exciting all at once. But as each year passes, it gets to be a little less of the daunting, and a little more of the exciting. I still like shopping for cute crisp fun useful school supplies. Funky notebooks, the smell of pencils. I guess like everybody. I've been eating like crap (people like to show their love and appreciation with bad-for-you-foods ... I gladly accept - next week is a new week, and I'm too exhausted to cook!) and have been too...

Well, I just got home from seeing Hank III, and I must say I had a very excellent time. Unlike my good friend Asia , I did stay for the assjack show in its entirety, so maybe I can weigh in on that side of things. Though what can you say, really? They kick ass. (jack) I haven't let quite that far loose in a long time. My inner former jr. high punk rock self came back to say hello for an hour or two. Okay, granted, I was on the edge of the pit shoving them back in, instead of in the middle of it myself - but then again, I was wearing pink suede pumps so ... some things do change, I guess. I wanted to be in there though. And I probably will have whiplash tomorrow. I forgot just how cathartic that whole experience is. The energy. The release. The only place in the world where violence is friendly. The way everyone stops and steps aside if someone loses their glasses ... or hastily hoists up the fallen so they don't get trampled ... or lovingly elbows their neighbor in the face ....

Sunday evening I was in the midst of one of my rare cleaning frenzies, and I was trying to finish up the vacuuming before I headed off to work. I my haste, I got caught up in the cord of the antique brass standing lamp in the living room and it wobbled hesitantly, then decided to go on ahead and topple over as I watched ... It crashed down and I had that suspended in a moment hope that the thick translucent hobnail glass shade would prove to be strong and sturdy and by some miracle not break. No such luck. I numbly vacuumed up the gleaming white shards with tears in my eyes ... Then I carefully unscrewed the base and quietly put the lamp in the closet. We bought it on a whim - not even knowing if it was in working order - at one of the first auctions we attended together. Back when the world was fresh and new, and we were fresh and new, and time and pain and disillusionment had not yet taken their toll on us ... It turned out that when we got it home, it didn't work. At first. But ...

Dating sucks again. I give up. For really real this time. I know this is gonna sound trite, but I'm holding out for someone who is enthralled by me in all my gloriously idiosyncratic uniqueness and appreciates all that I have to give and who can give me what I need, too. The rest of the game is just rubbish and bs and mental and emotional exhaustion and frankly - prefiero estar a solas que en mala compañia. I'm moving in a year hopefully anyway. I'll start over when I start over. M

Si*Sé finally has a new album coming out!!!! You can also hear songs from the old and new albums here . Uh-huh, uh-huh-uh-huh, uh-huh! Just had to jump for joy. M

I always try really hard to make friends with a praying mantis whenever I happen to meet one, because they freak me out so very, very much. Sometimes I think maybe this very dynamic is a metaphor for the way I live my life. Of course, I'm fond of exaggeration and generalizations. M

Okay - here are the two things (cool, or not so cool, depending) about the point I'm at in my running currently: #1 every mile I run could qualify as a so-called "junk mile." #2 there is no such thing as a "bad run" ... Even if I backslide, which I did today. My heart was just not in it. Everything in my being did NOT want to be out there today. My feet were just not beneath me. I was heaving at it from up in my sinus cavity. Of course it is 100 degrees out right now ... and I have had this totally obnoxious cold thing that won't become an actual cold, and won't go away ... it just sits there in my head somewhere, threatening. But it's okay, because even though I went back in time, I was still out there. I made myself be out there and do it. Every time I run, something gets stronger in me. It's the one and only thing in my life I've ever done wholly and completely for myself - with absolutely nothing to prove to anyone except myself. ...

Okay - I'm alive! I made it out of academic quarantine, I got my work done, and I'm freeeeee! So now more will be revealed. I promise. Thanks for waiting, dear friends. All 4 of you! But first, many dishes must be washed and many stairs vacuumed and many clothes put away and the like. However, I will leave you with these few morsels to tide you over in the meantime: 1. Dating suddenly starts to do the complete opposite of sucking! 2. I did it! I ran the whole 30 minutes (almost 3 miles) straight!!!!!!!!!!!! 3. This site TOTALLY kicks ass. 4. I'm dancing around in the kitchen in my underwear to The Chambers Brothers, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it! M