I knocked over a glass of wine, and the violet rivulets ran into every crack of the table's facade.
My soul pained at the absorption of all of the heaviness, seeping into crevices I had not previously known.
Each new tributary mirrored an unspoken desire or a compromise I didn't want to make.
These red vines encompassed me with each trickling invasion.
But I do want to live out loud and make no apologies, and I do want to have a little soul staring back at me with full-bodied love. And I do want to sing and be silly and not be made a fool for doing so.
The tannins will destroy the veneer and the structure of the table, embedding into the foundation that makes it a table. I can't remember when I wasn't apologizing for something for which I didn't feel sorry.
Friday, June 07, 2013
Thursday, June 06, 2013
Contents under Pressure May Freak Out
I'm sort of an emotional ticking time bomb. I'm pretty much okay 95% of the time, but that 5%, hold on to your hats, or my hat, I guess, if I could pull off wearing a hat. I've had this underlying feeling of annoyance for the past week (ish), but like all good WASPs, I pushed it down and covered it with food and wine. Today, it burst forth, making me cry on my drive home from work, because the only thing I could find on the radio were a. love songs, b. songs of personal import, and c. NPR, who I love, but sometimes bore and/or irritate me to distraction.
I think I've somewhat narrowed down my annoyances to these:
1. Is everyone a couple, and if so, why are they all pregnant? I am not a bitter person, well, that's not true, but I've never, ever been jealous or covetous of anyone else's happiness. My very best friend in the world is having a baby, and I honestly could not be happier. However, I find myself otherwise surrounded by some couples that, if I played the odds, I would clean up betting against, yet, there they are, happy and child-flushed. I know they could be arguing over why hubby watches gay porn, but from the bittersweet outside, I feel a little sad.
2. Wouldn't it be nice if you knew how your life would play out? I was raised Presbyterian; we believe in all that pre-destined, no free-will business. If that's really the case, just give us a heads up. Maybe I would've not begun a love of soft cheeses and fried pickles if I knew I would be single in my mid-30s. Dating or being naked in front of anyone is the furthest thing from my mind, but, damn...if I had known there'd be all these other mid-30's divorcees to contend with, I might've given it a second thought.
3. Cooking for one person is a pain in the ass. I didn't even really cook before I got married, and then I became a pseudo culinary adventurist. I had magazine subscriptions, daily e-mails, I learned how to use paprika and rosemary. And now, if I want lasagna, it makes more economical sense to buy the sad Stouffer's frozen lasagna, which has far too much oregano. I made lasagna last week for three people, and I just threw away leftovers. Frozen dinners make me sad.
4. Random insomnia makes me mad. I've gone back and forth, first not being able to sleep without another person, then overtaking the entire bed to assert my independence, and now, just sort of confusedly sleeping anywhere from my side to the middle. I never thought that snoring and twitching would be oddly comforting, and that pisses me off on a giant scale. I've always slept fine. I can nap anywhere; I slept in an airplane seat on a flight from Detroit to Paris in a little ball, no problem, and now, I can hear murderers waiting until I fall asleep to slip into the bedroom to kill me. Little do they know, I have an 8-iron under the bed...so....that should serve as a warning.
5. This spot is reserved for all the things I can't delineate. Sometimes, I may need help putting on a necklace or identifying a spider. I abhor taking out the trash, and I miss hearing, "You look nice." I have a wedding DVD I secretly want to watch, but fear I will either explode or throw up if I do, so I don't. I am only "with myself," and it's sobering to absorb what that really means. I don't regret my marriage, but I am sorry that I am now saddled with such distrust and cynicism, that it's hard for me to picture being really happy again.
"A divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there's less of you."
Margaret Atwood
I think I've somewhat narrowed down my annoyances to these:
1. Is everyone a couple, and if so, why are they all pregnant? I am not a bitter person, well, that's not true, but I've never, ever been jealous or covetous of anyone else's happiness. My very best friend in the world is having a baby, and I honestly could not be happier. However, I find myself otherwise surrounded by some couples that, if I played the odds, I would clean up betting against, yet, there they are, happy and child-flushed. I know they could be arguing over why hubby watches gay porn, but from the bittersweet outside, I feel a little sad.
2. Wouldn't it be nice if you knew how your life would play out? I was raised Presbyterian; we believe in all that pre-destined, no free-will business. If that's really the case, just give us a heads up. Maybe I would've not begun a love of soft cheeses and fried pickles if I knew I would be single in my mid-30s. Dating or being naked in front of anyone is the furthest thing from my mind, but, damn...if I had known there'd be all these other mid-30's divorcees to contend with, I might've given it a second thought.
3. Cooking for one person is a pain in the ass. I didn't even really cook before I got married, and then I became a pseudo culinary adventurist. I had magazine subscriptions, daily e-mails, I learned how to use paprika and rosemary. And now, if I want lasagna, it makes more economical sense to buy the sad Stouffer's frozen lasagna, which has far too much oregano. I made lasagna last week for three people, and I just threw away leftovers. Frozen dinners make me sad.
4. Random insomnia makes me mad. I've gone back and forth, first not being able to sleep without another person, then overtaking the entire bed to assert my independence, and now, just sort of confusedly sleeping anywhere from my side to the middle. I never thought that snoring and twitching would be oddly comforting, and that pisses me off on a giant scale. I've always slept fine. I can nap anywhere; I slept in an airplane seat on a flight from Detroit to Paris in a little ball, no problem, and now, I can hear murderers waiting until I fall asleep to slip into the bedroom to kill me. Little do they know, I have an 8-iron under the bed...so....that should serve as a warning.
5. This spot is reserved for all the things I can't delineate. Sometimes, I may need help putting on a necklace or identifying a spider. I abhor taking out the trash, and I miss hearing, "You look nice." I have a wedding DVD I secretly want to watch, but fear I will either explode or throw up if I do, so I don't. I am only "with myself," and it's sobering to absorb what that really means. I don't regret my marriage, but I am sorry that I am now saddled with such distrust and cynicism, that it's hard for me to picture being really happy again.
"A divorce is like an amputation: you survive it, but there's less of you."
Margaret Atwood
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