masterfade and other musings

I shouldn't be blogging right now.
For one thing, I am at work.
But I am internalizing shit. I am transferring.
Fuck.

I saw you standing all alone in the electrostatic rain
I thought at last I'd found a situation you can't explain
with GPS you know it's all just a matter of degrees
your happiness won't find you underneath that canopy of trees
if the green grass is 6 the soybeans are 7
the junebugs are 8 the weeds and thistles are 11
and if the 1s just hold their place the 0s make a smiley face
when they come floating down from the heavens

you took my hand and led me down to watch a papillon parade
we let the kittens lick our hair and drank our chalky lemonade
you squeezed my hand and told me softly that I shouldn't be afraid
'cause all the while your finger's resting gently on the masterfade
the masterfade.

"Masterfade" -Andrew Bird


I wanted to make a few lists, since I don't have time to sort out what is going on inside right now.

Things I can do well without thinking about it:

1. Parallel Parking
2. Picking up songs on the guitar
3. Complimenting people
4. Gardening
5. Mixing strong drinks
6. Spending time with myself
7. Daydreaming
8. Loving unconditionally
9. Being funny

Things I cannot do well (even when thinking about it):

1. Confronting people who hurt me
2. Comprehending the words no or never
3. Hiding my feelings
4. Feeling at ease with others
5. Balancing my checkbook
6. Finding and keeping real friends
7. Relaxing
8. Anything that requires math or physics or laws of relationships
(1+1 =?)


Things that men just don't understand about me (and perhaps women in general):

1. That starting a conversation with "your boobs look nice today"
isn't going to score you any points.
2. I'm much more interested in your mind than your penis.
3. Playing hard to get is what I should be doing, not you.
4. Describing me as "nice" or "sweet" is unimpressive. Use your vocabulary.
5. At 35, calling me cute sounds the same as me calling you cute.
6. Don't just stand there. Do something.
7. Never never never touch me when you are angry.
8. I have high standards. And a long list of dealbreakers.
9. At my age, I can afford to be picky.


Lately I have been having trouble leaving (and picking up)my daughter with her daycare provider. When she knows that we are going her mood drastically changes. Byt hte time we arrive, she is in tears, and finally up to the house to drop her off, she is wailing. It takes everything I have to turn around and leave.

I know how she feels--like she will never see me again- such intense feelings of guilt, loss, abandonment, grief, loneiliness, sadness overcome me that I think my heart has stopped beating for several seconds.
And it happens every day. Over and over again.


G

When we two parted

WHEN WE TWO PARTED

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.
****
They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shrudder comes o'er me --
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee so well --
Long, long I shall rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

***
There is nothing so gut-wrenching
than to be stopped in your tracks
by the sight of an ex-love enraptured by his new-found joy.

I have had the fortunate occasion only a few times in my life,
but every time it seems to take just a little more of my heart from me.

Given plenty of time to prepare myself for the inevitable (he warned me that she would be staying at the house), I was surprised at myself when at the mere sight of her sporty car in my old driveway, I was uncomfortable. She had been living with him since Tuesday, and I guess in the back of my mind, I hoped she would be gone.

I was here only to pick up my child for our usual tradeoff. Sundays. My favorite day of the week(sarcasm).

It was no surprise when I entered my old house, it was a total disaster. But what made me so distraught were the danty ladies shoes, three pair, that were lined up at the doorway. Her clothes were hanging from a doorframe, newly washed. The upstairs shower, my bathroom--my shower, was running. She was taking a shower in my bathroom.

I did my best to avoid any sort of conversation with him, but as usual, he had not prepared my daughter's bag. I had to stand and wait for him to pack it.

It was absolutely the most humiliating feeling
to stand in my old house
waiting
while someone else moved into my place
with such ease.

My heart broke just a little more today.

In other news,
I read that Andrew Bird was coming to Second Story June 4.
I used to hate it that no one ever cared what I had to say about music and artists
but I have been talking about Andrew Bird for months
and now he is coming.
A professional whistler, violinist and interesting lyricist
I would recommend him to you if you are interested in seeing a really cool artist.
(and you can thank me later.)