Thursday, July 23, 2009

baller status

i just bought my first piece of chicago - 1,000 square feet just for me. monday was the closing. 
i wore the same dress i wore when i graduated last summer with my masters degree. it felt like a graduation, the completion of one part of my life, the beginning of another. as i walked through the downtown streets to my final appointment, i saw a homeless man on madison avenue. he said, "good morning, happy birthday!" i smiled and thanked him. it wasn't my birthday, but it might as well have been - a new day, a new beginning, the first day of my new life. 

Friday, July 17, 2009

mi mami bonita.


i've missed my mom. we've been getting along since tuesday. we've laughed. she's not that affectionate, but she high-fives a lot and has a funny laugh. 

i wanted to take her out to lunch today, but she's busy. i'm disappointed. 

maybe, it's because i'm moving out. maybe, it's because i'm beginning to accept her for who she is. even though it's taken me a long time, i'm gonna keep trying. acceptance of someone's identity, their inherent vulnerabilities is basic. it's with my mom. i hope my kids accept me and are proud of who i am. i hope that they'll want to spend time with me, so that they can hear me laugh. 

Thursday, July 16, 2009

juke baby.

mangos. soy milk. fashion blogs. music. eggplants. pita chips. kisses. juke. chocolate. bicycles. friends. hugs. muffins. dresses. family. coffee. 

challenging. discovering. loving. 

i am excited for life! 

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

indulgence.


yesterday was a beautiful day spent with family and you. i haven't met a "you" in a while. a day of indulging in food, hugs, kisses, and conversation. it felt like a day of chilled strawberries dipped in heavy whipping cream, chocolate cake and caramel. 

i can still feel the sunshine on my face as we drove around. i can still taste the apple pancake and eggs we shared. i can still see your smile as you looked down at me. i can still feel the comfort of the hug before you left. when i got home, my white, cotton blouse was wrinkled from the intensity of the day. it made me smile. when i took it off, i didn't unbutton it, i just wiggled out of it, pulled it over my head, and placed it on my chair. i sat in my bra and skirt for a while and admired my blouse. the wrinkles tangible evidence of the embraces we shared. 

i haven't been held, like really held, in a really long time, almost a year. the previous "you" used to pick me up and give me amazing hugs in his kitchen. when i cried, i used to sit on his lap and he'd kiss my hair. it's different with the new "you". i lean and tiptoe and you hold me for a long time, then you let go and hug me some more. when i cry, you hold me close and ask me to breath you in. i don't mind doing that. 


Monday, July 13, 2009

just one day


i have trouble letting go of the past. it's not that i can't move on, it's just that i can't forget. an image, a song lyric, my favorite t-shirt - sight, taste, sound, scent, touch -  they all take me back to a time when i was a person stumbling towards a fledgling identity.  

i still talk to my ex-boyfriend's mom on the telephone. when i hear her voice, my heart melts and it makes me want to cry. she tells the same jokes, asks the same questions. it reminds me that she will always be his mother and i will always be that girl she took a liking to because she never had a daughter of her own. my relationship with her is completely separate from anything i had with him. on the night her son broke up with me, she was walking towards the door with groceries. she left them by the door and sat with me in the car as i wept into her lap. i'm not sure if i've ever wept into my own mother's lap. on christmas and birthdays, we send each other cards. i look forward to these cards. i keep the cards and the envelopes in a box. looking at the address, i remember the countless times i drove there and the memories i took with me on the way home. if i drive down ashland, vivid thoughts race through me like goosebumps and are gone just as quickly.  

she isn't the only person i hold on to. i hold on to other people as well, small yet vital parts of my life - some still here, others gone. my parents, i see everyday. my sisters, so different from me. the oldest, i haven't seen since i was 18 years old. the other lives in the same city i do, i haven't seen her in more than a month. i miss them both. my grandfather, who died four septembers ago. friends i've lost touch with, others moved away. my little lady in seattle, my super-mom in new york. and of course, my adventurous group of friends - dinner, juke, five-dollar-pitchers, streaking, baking, biking, kissing, drinking, hugging, ravenously discovering life at every opportunity. i love you guys. and of course the boys that i've met along the way. the boy who helped me move on and let me ride on his handlebars. the one who was nervous to hold my hand and smelled of pot and cologne. the one who gave me butterflies, who tried to understand me and failed. the one who i danced with and kissed on the dance floor. the one who took my breath away. the one who pushed the envelope and made me smile. and of course, the one who i'll always love and never forget. 

i keep each image catalogued in my brain, along with the laughter and tears each one has brought to my life at one point or another. these people bring me hope, make me believe in destiny. another day with each of them makes me cry, makes me realize how lucky i am to have experienced such life.