heartbreaks and healing.

traffic is so heavy with it being memorial day that i could have driven to san antonio faster than the time it took me to drive south of the bridge for breakfast and back. seriously. i viewed the sickening long line of people at bouldin creek, torchy's tacos, and several other places, crowds of people congregating under the hot sun, and had to settle on thai food takeout, spending more $ than i intended. i should have just stayed home and cooked an omelette.

my housemate, alicia, returned from vacation early this morning. it was lonely at night when she was away. the flipside is i'm not used to sharing a living space with someone at all. i'm used to being able to come home and retreat from the rest of the world, not having to converse with anyone, and now i find myself retreating to a coffee house or going out for a walk through the neighborhood to tap into that solitude i once always had in my home. i'm cooking dinner for the two of us one night this week- a first roommate dinner in the house to celebrate moving in.

my bedroom is looking more and more like a real room. there are still boxes in need of being unpacked, and the trunk of my car is filled with suitcases i don't know where i will store. i need to hang pictures and decorate and strew candles about. we are in that interim state between "moved in" and "settled in." who knows how long it will take before we feel we are settled. mischa seems happy at least and hangs out most afternoons on alicia's couch while her cat sleeps on mine. (ironic).

i'm meeting agatha in person to make the poetry book official before i send it to print. the book release has struck a deeper chord for me than most people realize, leading to scenes like tearing up in public with p. in a diner, and crying in the car to sappy love songs on magic 95.5 that remind me of my friend j. i went on some 'shopping therapy' to buffalo exchange to somehow fill the emotional black hole. when i look better, i feel better.

i've resolved to still mail her a copy of the book with a personal dedication (not a public one), and doing so leaves me in a vulnerable position. p. said it so well the other day: "maybe there is grieving and healing that needs to take places with the ending of that relationship." i think that the act of mailing her the book is my own ritual of letting go, of moving forward, of placing that era somewhere else. part of me is aware that now she is not really worthy of my friendship after how she has acted this past year, and that i deserve someone who treats me well and respects me. but for about two years of life when the bulk of this poetry was written, she was my bestest friend and the catalyst in my realization that i needed to be more committed to self-LOVE before loving someone else. i needed to stop the self-ABUSE through being around certain people who did not honor me. (prior to that time, i never recognized that as abuse).

she was that woman who held up a mirror and told me how amazing and phenomenal she thought i was and i began to listen for the first time. i began to take myself seriously as a poet, as an artist, as a voice, as a woman. it is said that you have found yourself when you find people who can see you. j saw me, not that my other friends did not see me; it was more that she was able to get me to see myself in a higher light, to realize who i am. i think it's important to hear that from someone else from time to time, and to fully realize your value and worth as a person. there is nothing selfish about valuing and loving who you are. it is essential. like breathing. now, i'm being forced to practice her very advice - with her. she moved out of state, severed ties with various people, and is no longer interested in continuing a friendship. i could just never send the book and go on my merry way, but somehow, in order to complete the circle of love and loss, i want to send the book to her. there was a hell of a lot more to our friendship.

i resent that i can be so sentimental, clinging, and unable to let go of relationships that fall apart. i'm searching for a path to make peace with the end of this relationship and to have a heart that is healed once again.

memorial day weekend.

it rained for the better part of the day and i had to work overtime hours and i received a scary looking letter in the mail that i've been selected for jury duty. i was completely unproductive at work and listened to jose gonzalez's song "heartbeats" on repeat. one of the most beautiful songs. no one else was in the office. no real work actually got done, and i don't know how to explain the large chunk of lost time. it just... happened.

i viewed the inside layout of the book and submitted the edits to agatha tonight; it should be good to send out for publishing tomorrow or monday! it was an amazing experience to see the poems in real book format. heart, soul, and 3 years of my life have been channeled into this one paperback book, and it's opened some old wounds as i reflect on the people who have touched my past. i can't believe i'm sitting here staring off into night time space thinking, "what next?" next i think is writing my memoir/novel, the one i've forever been procrastinating on completing, and making enough paintings to put on an art show with other artists somewhere in a public space. thinking: lots of art, people, and wine.

a couple of years ago, i was invited by e. to see an art show that two of her friends were having at a gallery where i later modeled nude for the man who owned it (ha). i believe it was called "the red slip project." the photographer had photographed many different people wearing the red slip, and the painter had a collection of her brilliant paintings upstairs. i remember being blown away by talent. i definitely feel the desire to become more active in the artist community. i've been hiding out in the shadows for a long time talking about creating but not creating seriously in the open.

enough talk of art. my house is a bit of a mess and i'm exhausted. good night....

yesterday a woman blatantly came onto me- the attention was flattering but not reciprocal on my side. how does one communicate "you're just not my type" without deflating another's ego? because she was so brutally direct, i was direct with my answer, and she slinked away, a hint of woundedness in her voice. i was at the grocery store near my office this afternoon- i had gone in on a mission to find the saltiest, greasiest potato chips to fulfill my p.m.s. cravings, and the effing organic store did not carry any of such, giving me no choice but to select the salt and vinegar, low fat, air-puffed potato chips (tasteless)- and standing in the checkout line was a woman who literally made me almost lose my potato chips. she looked like ani difranco. i'm not exaggerating. the resemblance was uncanny. she was so cute and exuded this amazing ENRG and i thought to myself, "yes!" sadly, there was no way i could strike up conversation with this ani d. twin (and what would i even say?). she was ahead of me in line and walked out, disappearing into the parking lot, and i was left with my fantasies and the $3.00 bag of potato chips i could not stomach to eat.

mercury or lead tomatoes anyone?

i had these grand gardening plans to plant an elaborate vegetable and herb garden in our backyard. that beautiful vision came crashing down when my sister, the real estate lawyer, mentioned that i might want to have the level of lead in the soil checked before doing so. because this is such an old house (circa 1930ish) and had lead paint on the outside of the house at one time, it would have leaked into the soil and most likely is still present. she said that she often handles cases with old houses where she reviews the level of lead reported in the soil. there's nothing like growing organic lead vegetables, is there? she said that i might be able to have the city check the soil for free. i'm thinking that we could consider planting a raised bed in the far part of the backyard, or have potted vegetables and herbs on a patch. no lead soil, of course! growing in lead soil would sorta defeat the purpose of having a vegetable garden. i wonder if other avid gardeners out there know about checking the soil for lead concentration. i love our old house, but dammit, my garden plans are thrown off track. i can still proceed with planting the flowers and bushes since we won't be eating those.

in true texas tradition it has been raining in a torrential downpour this whole day, and the driveway has been transformed into a serious pathway of mud. i had to get out my high doc marten boots and the umbrella to reach my car. the backseat is still filled with some boxes i haven't had the energy to bring into the house, and i still have to organize my bedroom this weekend. oh-my housemate has left for a week-long vacation leaving me alone with the house and the two cats. i dig this solitude. i've caught up on sleep, done some cooking and entertaining to candles, and have actually had the chance to read books for fun. i'm reading a memoir by anne lamott and a book on ancient spiritiual wisdom to live by called "the four agreements." what i've found most useful is the part on how our words are the power we have to create. you can create beauty, love, and 'heaven' with your words or you can destroy everything and create hell. our words are pure magic, or our words are black magic. i'm fascinated with musicians, poets, writers, and motivational speakers because of their power and influence on the world with words.

my brother, his girlfriend, and my sister are in town for the weekend. i had them over last night for wine, french bread, and cheeses, and that has been it as far as the excitement goes for now.

sneak preview

agatha still needs to add my name to the front cover of the book, but i thought i would give you a sneak preview of her design. you've been listening to me ramble on about this project for months and deserve a visual image. i'm hoping to send the pdf to the publishing place this next week.

good morning.

today i woke up in our new house, feeling refreshed after eleven hours of deep and peaceful sleep, the sunlight greeting me through the living room shades. i got mexican food for a big lunch at el chile down the street. people sat outside at tables drinking oversized margarita glasses, and the smells of cinnamon, chiles, and cilantro stopped me to drink in the ambience. there is this quote i heard that resonates with me: "the greatest voyages of discovery are made not with seeing new landscapes but with having new eyes." i don't need to leave the city to experience a changed perspective. our neighborhood has the mexican restaurant, a hipster coffee house, and streets of old houses filled with college students, married couples, and young people living together, railroad tracks cutting down the center of it. being in a house is already changing my outlook. i feel more grounded. we live right next to a quiet, trickling creek and one house from the railroad tracks. nestled behind us are two duplexes, and we share the same gravel driveway. some of my good friends live in this neighborhood. we sit in each other's houses and talk and drink. is it a surprise, i wonder, that i love drinking? i remember being that girl who would have half a beer at parties in college, the perpetual designated driver, the one who hated the feeling of life becoming foggy and ambiguous. years later, i've acquired a great love for wine, beer, and whisky. p commented the other day that i must like "everything being foggier." maybe. she met me yesterday evening for the photoshoot in front of a victorian brick building, with a chain fence and graffiti and an alley way to play around with. i selected her to take my photo for the poetry book because a) i wanted it to involve local women artists and b) i feel comfortable and at ease around her. word of advice is to never model for a photographer you do not feel chemistry with because chances are the photos will not reflect the true you. i did that once some time ago, and was not happy with the photos. i had a hard time determining what to wear for this shoot, and settled on a blue jeans, tank top, and puma sneakers look. nothing formal or dressy. i think agatha is finalizing the layout this week, and then the book will be published! the book has been 'my baby' for several years, and the novel is like 'my marriage.' i have to wonder when i will meet my real significant other, outside of the world of books. i've shifted my thinking from "if" to "when" it will happen. i will fall in love and probably get married and probably have a child one day. on friday, i went to see a woman i used to date perform. she is now the lead celloist in a band. i sat down near the front of the stage and watched her play. the music and the movement of her fingers across strings under bright lights made my past flash before my eyes. she had no idea, did she, that i had come out just to see her, and surely no one in that audience knew about the history i had with her. for about 3 years she and i have not spoken that much and i was determined to reconnect. after she got off the stage, i tapped her shoulder, she turned around, and we spent the next two hours immersed in conversation. she lives in a house with her girlfriend now. we are going to start hanging out again. the eerie fact i learned is that her birthday is the same day as my ex-girlfriend's. june 7th. i don't know what it is about people born on that day, but we are drawn to each other for some reason. after 2 a.m., she lugged out her cello from the club and walked me to my car parked eight blocks down the street. i rolled home around 3 and crashed on the couch.

hello my friends and lurkers:

thank you for still reading. i'm alive and writing, albeit finding my way through a state of chaos, which is what the month of may is going to probably be. we moved into the house this weekend, and the amount of work carved out feels neverending. i've been sleeping on the couch in the living room because my bedroom is cluttered with boxes and trash bags. i forget where i placed the bed sheets and my socks. last night i carried the last box into the house after spending midnight to 3 a.m. cleaning the apartment, feeling like a mad woman scrubbing pumpkin pie stains off of the inside of the oven from that pie i had baked in november for the autumn party (?) by the time i drove to the house and unloaded the car, tip-toeing through the dark grass, it was 4 in the morning and i had to wake at 6:45 to get going to the office. so much has gone awry that it's been no surprise to discover that mercury is retrograde.

here goes. *alicia's grandmother had a sudden anneurism the night before the move in day and she had to get a quick flight back home to be with her family. *i drove out to her apartment in north austin to feed her cat since she was away and the door to her apartment would not lock on the way out. i tried for 15 minutes and nothing would give. it was broken. *our landlord fell sick with the flu on move in day and could not give me the house key personally so i had to have copies made from her maintenance man and get a signed money order check to her office in the middle of rush hour lunch traffic. *then i had great trouble finding her office. *my dad went over to my apartment building to let the carpet cleaners in and my security pass would not allow him access - turns out it was suddenly broken. i had to contact the main office while i was out at lunch and did not have the phone number, which led to me randomly calling friends to see who could look up the number on the internet. *$90 later the carpet cleaners could not remove the major tea stain in the living room and i had to attempt to remove it with bleach. my dad and i got into a small argument because he criticized the rest of my apartment and i was upset that he was getting into my business. *while moving in, the front porch light and bathroom lights suddenly went out, and i had to move in box after box in the dark. *we had the maintenance man come out to fix the lights this evening, and after he left, a fuse blew out half of our electricity, including the air conditioning window units on this sweltering, humid, 95-degree day. i was able to tinker around with the fuse box, luckily, and turn the electricity back on.

i'm so looking forward to a hot shower and a full night of sleep. photos coming.