Suitcase Swimmers

Ahhh!

Busy days full of freezing fingers and broken bike chains thanks to getting rear-ended and welcome back to america, my darling and everything is different but you remind me of the best parts of me hidden somewhere inside.
"Oh, there you are."

I am about to vote for the President. If you asked me at age 12, "Did you know the first time you ever vote for a president, you'll have to do it early because you'll be filming a movie all day the real election day?" I would looked at you for half a second and answered, "Well, duh." If you would have asked me that at 20, I would have looked at you for half a second and said, "Yeah right."

On set for eleven to twelve hours for seven days wearing a wedding dress and crawling around. Yes please!

I am filled with hope for many reasons. The biggest one is our next President. Ah!

And suddenly I'm ready for the winter.

Song for the New Breed

There is something very terrifying in stopping into a party at a house you used to party at, overflowing people you casually partied alongside and realizing it may as well still be three years ago because everyone is in the exact same place, talking the exact same bullshit and believing it and in it.
Still more terrifying is realizing that if your partying alongside was more than casual or more frequent or never ended three years ago, you could be in the same place with same bullshit and believing it all the same.
And so you're thankful in your terror until the most terrifying realization:
You still could be, still might be one of those people in the exact same place with the exact bullshit being pulled, but believing it and in it much more fervently with more than a dash of denial.



You know it's time that we grow old and do some shit.

blindsided

Organizing digital files will cause a tidal wave of nostalgia. You will be knocked down.
But when you get back up, despite wet cheeks, you will be smiling.

We were bravest at 17 and our angst was accurate.
We were craziest at 18 and didn't dress as well as we thought.
At 19 I believed in everything despite February and destroyed even more when I was 20.
I'm still posing at 21 and feeling frantic.


If only sounds could be translated into letters, then this would all make sense.



I only write country western songs, ok?

tell me at least six things you may or may not consider personal

August was a steady month of early bedtimes.
Suddenly it's October and I'm always tired.

I should be writing some of this down.

Readings around town, sticky dance floors, theme nights, Three Penny Opera, screaming at the wind
Songs about poltergeists, free chocolate pudding, $5 pitchers, open mic sing-a-longs and stolen statues of David
A leak in your sun roof, knee high socks, watching a biker get hit in slow motion and pulling his bent bicycle out of a puddle
Fat tires, McCain-as-goblin, fancy wine at your friend's bougie job, wondering if you really like me all that much or if I'm just used to being loved more than anything else in this world...

I'm best at beginnings.
Yeah?

I'm not talking about jet ski accidents.