Sunday, September 23, 2018

Almost October

 Last week was oddly stressful. There was a surprise meeting with no details and that is never a good sign. This however was a an appreciation meeting, all the more reason for people to use the details section of a calendar invite but oh well.

I do puzzles almost each night, a little bit, it works very well for my brain. This is a 1000 (minus one lost piece) puzzle that I just finished. After this, the big pieces of a 500 piece puzzles seems inelegant and bulky.

I visited a Little Friendly Library (actually two) for the first time. I love the idea, the selections were...meh but that means zilch. I am glad they exist. I have been reading a lot more lately, partly because I bike to the local library some weekends (my bike rides are more fun if I have a purpose such as groceries or books)

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Septembers/End of Summer

The days are flying by, so sometimes I let the weekends crawl and it feels glorious except when I remember the entirely uncertain premise my life is built on here and all the things that remain undone or unlisted or un-imagined. Also I got a matching night suit set and it makes me feel much more grown up. As does the weight, a general sense of worry about the little family I have, the dawning realization the different forms drifting can take. This may not be my last city stop in life and that is, as the kids would say, totes okay, but that won't stop me from slowing down just so I can remember some moments.

Sunday, August 12, 2018

And suddenly its August

Chicago evenings

It has been a while hasn't it? To be fair, between April and now, things have been very uncertain (more so than in general) and so I was mostly focused on existing, ping ponging between stress and coping, stress and coping, mostly unhealthy ways of the latter. I honestly don't remember much until early July for what it is worth, although I know a lot happened. I was out at a park with a friend today and this was around 8:30 pm -- the days are getting shorter and summers are coming to an end. My fourth summer in Chicago, if you can believe it. I can hardly believe it.

Saturday, April 14, 2018

On Languages

This a piece I wrote a long time ago and I think it never got published anywhere (not as far as I can remember) so here it is:

Learn English! Learn Spanish! Learn French!
Brightly colored billboards dot highways, city streets, town alleys all over the world. They promise you a job, a better life, the entire world in an unreasonable span of time. Their lurid colors and bold fonts mask the dismalness of your life and firmly position language as your exit path to the promised land. Language, not for love, not for life, but to escape.

I’ve always loved languages, because they allow me to lament. To lament the loss that was given to me in my childhood and has carried me all the way to my adulthood. This is the companion of a lifetime, more constant than any loves and hatreds. At this point in my life I have lost an entire country and several cities and the counting hasn’t stopped. Of course, I must not be unfair. If I look at the scorecard, there are countless additions as well. Researchers claim that women have a richer vocabulary than men; feel free to blame my voraciousness on that. All I ask is that you allow me to put you in the category of people who need gender binaries to navigate the world. A stereotype for a stereotype is only fair.

Friday, March 30, 2018


One of my all time favorite poems is One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. Every time I read it, the words just pull me in a little bit more. How could they not?

"The art of losing isn’t hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master."

I think about these lines a lot, especially in the past year or so. A lot has been lost and most of it never really belonged to me. When I am feeling particularly self-indulgent, I tell myself, what have I not lost? I have lost a parent who I never really felt I had. Now in my early thirties I feel that I have lost my youthfulness, whatever that ephemeral term meant. I have also lost my metabolism and that is a pretty concrete concept. 

Sunday, November 19, 2017

The Loneliness I Choose/ The Art of Traveling Without Ambition

(old piece)

I am finally convinced, after years of fighting it, that loneliness is part of our human experience. The people I like the best are the ones who can't, won't dim the discomfort of questions and doubt. I am never sure if I am my best, happiest self when living my life on my own terms. All I know is that I do not know how else to live it. Along the way I have learned that the adjective brave is awarded freely, even to actions that are steps away from cowardice. I think of my leaving home, I think of my time in graduate school, I think of moving and I know that there is more privilege and necessity in these periods than there is brave.

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Popping In, Hey Hey You

My wonderfully apt shower curtain
It's been a while hasn't it? I'd count the days except they would turn into months and I'd tell you all the things that changed except it would become a book. The best parts? I moved into my own apartment, I have my own room AND a spare room, I have grown up furniture. My recliner now has a companion love seat and I have a dresser. The dresser is gorgeous, it has a mirror that brings the room together. I enjoy having a room of my own in an apartment of my own and it has felt both natural and decadent, a little whisper of how marvelously selfish of you? The feeling of waking up and wandering into the living room and using the coffee maker to make myself a cup of average coffee (my skills are still sub par), of eating a meal at the table, so simple and yet so significant.