still batshit

What a surprise, it's 3 am and I'm wide awake despite a rather active day. By active I mean I hung two sconces on my living room wall. Or is it hanged? Hung makes me thing of something else entirely. I'm 5 sentences into this entry and I'm already completely off topic. Not that I really have a topic. Well, maybe I do. I'm still here. And I'm still completely out of my mind. I started this blog about two years ago and have written in it here and there, I typically only come back to it when I have something worth saying or something inspires me. the lack of entries says a lot about the state of my life.

I thought I'd do a little reflection on the past year. It was a rough one. I turned to my private journal more than I did this blog, but in the interest of taking a risk and sharing my soul with all 4 people that read this, I thought i'd transcribe some of my more private thoughts. proceed with caution.

4/21/11
Hello, Journal. Here we are. Sitting at Papillon drinking an enormous Stoli Martini. "Hanging By A Moment" by Lifehouse is playing. This was you and your 1st love's "song". It's been 10 years since he dumped you. Isn't that crazy? You live in NYC, you aren't afraid to drink alone @ a bar, you cocktail in a French maid outfit, who would have guessed that this is what 25 and "living the dream" looks like? But you feel greatness on the verge. No question about it. You're about to stumble into something amazing and fulfilling, but first, you must each chocolate lava cake.

Funny the things you ruminate on whilst imbibing. I was certain I was about to do something great, and beautiful things did come in the months to follow, particularly those involving a mermaid. and I don't have to dress like a maid any more. But it also was right before the worse summer of my life. But we'll get to that.

4/24/11
HAPPY EASTER! I'm bartending. Ha! I just served a very interesting lady who studied at Playwrights Horizons. She told me a quote from Tony Kushner, who spoke at her graduation.

"You have to remind yourself, time and again, that you come from the garden, not from the factory."

Also, she gave me a chocolate bunny.

The garden. Not the factory.

Okay. This next one is where we start to get the gritty stuff. I'm having cold feet about making this public. But I'm not sure of many things these days, beyond the fact that all we have is each other and we have to share, listen and love.

7/15/11 (this one is almost illegible. if i recall, which I don't really, I was in a particularly advanced state of inebriation.

a terrifying tumble
regression to my former transgression
safer in your arms than the fight against it
i have no heart for this
no strength. time. the distances is so wide, a gaping chasm of fear. I don't understand. I can't. NO. NO NO NO.

then there is a very rudimentary sketch of a heart and a magnet.

7/28/11
We lost Poppy early this morning. It's my parents anniversary. I can't make it real in my mind. It's so overwhelming how the happiest day (or what once was) is now the saddest. Yesterday was Daddy's birthday. It's a perfect NYC summer morning, 74 and breezy. I'm staring at the East River in Astoria Park, encapsulated by the Triboro and Hell Gate bridges. My dad told me this morning that this will be the hardest thing I've ever dealt with. He's right, but in that way, I am so fortunate. but also this marks the beginning of all the goodbyes I will have to say in my lifetime. As if there was every any doubt, I will truly never be the same. I am glad that Poppy is free. but I will never stop missing him.

Hold tight to the ones you love
For this life, it races by
Every day you learn something about the way our journey flies
We begin as pure innocence
transform to chaos
and if we are lucky, make a peaceful return to blissful purity.
The ladder to the stars is long for some
But each rung takes us closer to home.
It's not the end.
It's a new beginning.

I still miss you every day, Poppy.

7/31/2011 (somewhere in the sky)
In the midst of summer's decrescendo I find myself fearful of winter's stark embrace. I'm a child of summer, with dirty feet and feathers in my unkempt hair. I hope that with each season's turn I will find myself stronger, braver, tougher, smarter, more ready to ride the next loop of my life. I must breathe, I must lightly kiss each precious moment, however joyous of painful, then let it fly. this grief is only fleeting. This life is only fleeing. I mist dance, sing, spread my joy, and learn from my pain, and fill each day with the people and things that help me make sense of this tumultuous journey.

I wrote this on the plane back to Texas for my grandfather's funeral. I've learned a lot in the last few months, but I stopped writing. I'm now in the middle of that winter I so feared. And i'm admittedly a little lost. but I'm attempting to channel that into something good. stay tuned.