the front

she wants to brave.

she knows she cannot be.

instead, she contemplates stopping time

fighting the ticking clocks

revolting against the whole idea of life

she knows she cannot

and yet she wants to

she cannot seem to understand.

to prepare.

she observes from afar.

with a beating heart

that beats a little faster

when she thinks of the inevitable.

and this fear

and this front

follow her everywhere.

she wants to let it all go.

to slump down,

limp as she can manage,

and fold onto the floor.

heaving

breathing

avoiding.

instead

she fronts.

she pretends.

and she manages to wake up each day

with a renewed sense of life.

what else can she do?

nothing.

j'aime beaucoup

Carving the Mountains from Juan Rayos on Vimeo.

i like.

a lot.

run-ins with my future daughter

yup.

this post is going to be exactly what the title says.

start your creepy sci-fi background music.........now!

so i'm at a venue.

i'm washing my hands.

and two little girls come up to the sink beside me.

one little girl leaves the water running and goes to leave.

her friend confronts her "dude! don't leave the water running!"

the water-waster sighs and says "whatever dude, the concert is starting. let's go. who cares?"

the wee-little environmentalist says "dude! i care. and you should too. water is way more important than this stupid concert."

blink. blink.

this must be my daughter.

we must be in the future.

i am staring at her.

i wonder if she thinks i am crazy already.

she likely does.

i was hoping it would take her years to figure that out.

to be honest...

i have been feeling insecure as of late.
insecure about my ways of speaking english.

learning a different language is a challenge.

it challenges your mother tongue.

i have to think, harder than ever before, when i speak english.

my inner dialogue resembles this nonsense:

"is that a word in a english?? 23 years and i don't know if that is a word in english?"

"can i say that in english too? or just french?"

"did that make sense..."

"am i making sense?"

"is it still possible for me to make sense?"

the answer, apparently, is no.

but i am working on it.
bear with me.

merci.

truth.

I do my thing, and you do your thing.
I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,
and you are not in this world to live up to mine.
You are you, and I am I,
and if by chance we find each other.
it's beautiful.
- Frederick Perls

so maybe i need this...

things that i know without doubt

they are not many.

perhaps a handful.

but i cherish that handful.

i share it often

add to it rarely

and have to remind myself

that it exists.

that there are some things.

some things that are tangible to me.

that make sense.

that i could prove, if necessary.

one.

kindness is contagious.

two.

forgiveness is hard. but it is possible.

three.

a sun salutation will ease any situation.

four.

laughter will bring you back.

five.

time is all the mighty healer. it is also the greatest test to patience.

six.

saying i'm sorry is hard. not saying it is even harder.

seven.

take care of the earth. she would do the same for you.

eight.

impromptu dance parties are usually always necessary.

nine.

share. you really need a lot less than you think.

ten.

don't forget to breathe. you are capable of almost anything so long as you can breathe.

may you be thankful for all that you know and don't know, have and don't have, today and everyday.

happy thanksgiving.

the thanksgiving bandwagon

let's just be honest with each other.

i love thanksgiving.
i think it is the greatest holiday.
(yes, it beats out christmas)

i love the copious amounts of food
harvest food
pumpkins
grains

oh, it's perfect.

i also will never tire of the good ol'
"what are you thankful for?"

we spend too much time
complaining and whining and longing
over what we don't have.

finally! a day where we focus on what we do have.
alas, we have a lot.

let us celebrate that, shall we?
this weekend,
think about it.
list it.
share it.
remember it.
repeat it. every. damn. day.

Better to light one small candle than to curse the darkness.

Chinese Proverb

cats and dogs

it is pouring today.

i counted each and every lucky penny
when i realized that my umbrella was in my car.

fate.

i clutched it only as a person
who is on the verge of blowing away
and giving in to a nervous breakdown would.

as it turns out,
it is hard.

learning your life
and the life of others
in a different language
is hard.

trying to express yourself
is very hard.

if only i could remember to pause
to breathe
and to formulate some sort of brilliant, yet pseudokindergarten sentence,
i would rejoice.

but, no.
like most (ok, all) other situations i encounter
i say the wrong thing
the most reductionist problematic political thing i could say.

c'est la vie.
right?

i have, however, learned some things:

one.
if you are speaking to a francophone, always ensure they are the first to leave.
it is very possible that they have asked to speak to you and you smiled, nodded and walked away, assuming the conversation was over.

two.
the french love their coffee.
like, a lot.

three.
impromptu dance parties before an exam are helpful.

four.
do your homework. in bed. with food. and music blaring.

five.
if all fails,
resort to a yoga practice.
a good one.

sad sap

it is october 6
but
according to my sweet little calender
it is still the month of september

that, my dear friends,
is life these days.

i am running about a week behind.
and potentially just bombed two tests.

i have one thought.
and one thought only...

fact

i miss women and gender studies courses.
like, a lot.

i am over the moon thankful that i have bust magazine and bitch magazine
to keep me in the loop.

things you need to know about:



check out go kart racing accidental masturbating (it's great)

is it wrong to use this as an educational tool in the event that i have a child?

BUST Magazine

what else?

urban farmers
pirates
sleeping with conservatives in order to convert them (hilarious)
interviews with awesome funny women
yeah, i am officially subscribing.

so i write

when i was younger
i used to write at night

it was the time of day
that words seemed to flow endlessly

proof of such occurrences sit on my bookshelf
old journals filled with thoughts, rambled and eloquent

even today
i still write

when i feel lost
when i feel hopeless
angry
isolated
i reach for my journal
and lose myself in the words

said journal is not locked.
i have no concerns.

i write in "code" if you will.

i am so consumed in my ways
that the words i write are a given for myself
a lost cause for the outsider.

and i like it that way.

what an enchanted story.
it waits to be told.

today

dreaming of a vespa
a cafe au lait
and a little basket full of market goodies.

thinking that i should read the walrus
but it is also a little too intimidating

refusing to admit that i suck at cross word puzzles.
big time.

fully acknowledging that i am running on 3 hours of sleep

and

now

bon nuit.