Saturday, December 29, 2012

The Mean Reds


I woke up today with the mean reds.


Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?
Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues?
Holly Golightly:     No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what
you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling -Breakfast At Tiffany's

I had absolutely no REAL reason to have the mean reds, I but I did.  Despite spending the last Friday night of 2012 JUST as I wanted to, (RAWR) I woke up this morning and felt a sadness I could not explain. All morning/early afternoon I felt weepy. Nothing untoward happened.

Maybe it's 'cause I had just enough to drink last night to feel something, but not be drunk. 
Maybe it's cause I stayed up almost until dawn.  
Maybe it's 'cause I woke up too early.
Maybe it's 'cause last night's full moon ALWAYS throws my hormones out of wack.
Maybe it's 'cause it was snowing outside today and then it turned into awful cold rain instead. 

Monday, December 24, 2012

Damn You George Michael.

I've been carrying this piece around for the last three years. I've written and rewritten it. Edited it, cut it. Today I figured I should just put it out there and be done with it so that another holiday season doesn't slip through my fingers without me posting it. Happy Holidays!

I love the holidays. I overdo it, because I come from a celebratory tribe. Mommy loves to entertain and Daddy loves to shop/gift. When I was a toddler, I recall a "Happy Birthday Baby Jesus" party thrown by my parents so that I may know the true meaning of Christmas. Later when we moved to DC, Christmas became an even more elaborate affair. Christmas Eve we'd head over to our aunt's house for one of the premier holiday events of DC's social scene. The next morning, my brothers and I would wake up to find various quadrants of the living room assigned to each of us and draped in everything we asked for. As the eldest, it fell upon me to become  Daddy's elf.  I was our family's holiday quality control.  With me on Team Santa, we always got EXACTLY what we wanted. 

Christmas Day always meant brunch of grits, fried oysters and crab claws, scrambled eggs with scallions, biscuits and coffee.  Later in the day, we'd put on our Christmas outfit, and drive out to the boondocks for Christmas dinner with family friends aka Thanksgiving pt deux.

I don't really remember what Christmas was like after my parents split up.  Traditions were shattered, friends and family divied up, lines in the sand drawn.  In undergrad, there were more than a few times that I simply didn't go home. It was easier to pretend that nothing was wrong or that nothing had changed if I just stayed away from home 'cause being there would just be a sore reminder of all the stuff we weren't doing anymore.

When I became grown, I decided that the best way to beat the holiday blues was to create my own traditions, thus, my annual Holiday Party was born.  I decorate, buy and cook too much food, too much booze, and fill up my prewar one bedroom with as many people as can show up in the hopes of erasing the years that there was no Christmas for me.

And then I got married. 

Monday, June 11, 2012

#61112

she never knew that he really existed.
so much of her time was spent focusing on trying to make do in a life without him
then she stumbled upon him by accident and what a fall it was.
some people go through life without ever being touched in special places
the way that she has over and over and over again.
each time,
she gets better at being someone's woman,
though she's never been his.
each time,
her lover gets better at being her man,
though he's never been hers.
she told him he was her partner and the world turned into hues of purple spilling over with her passion.
never had so simple a word blossomed and stained the world so exqusitely.
she stares at him when he's inside her.
she takes all of him in and glows magentas and pinks.
flowers burst through her skin when he touches her.
the purr in his voice makes her shine like stars on clear nights.
he makes her shine.
she'd gotten dull and almost varnished by those who'd tainted her with their ill will,
and she'd loved them anyway.
love is never wasted and she loved to love.
she loved being in love.
being in love suited her,
it made her beautiful.
others noticed the change in her gait,
in her smile,
in her touch.
folks would wonder what was going on in her mind.
she would see the beauty of the world and none of the flaws.
spring made her do that.
her lover made her do that.
she was unable to see the couple fighting on the block
or smell the urine in the train station.
she didn't want to keep writing about him,
but she couldn't help it.
he was in her mind,
in her heart,
in her skin,
in her sex.
loving him is both effortless and impossible to do without going crazy.
certain moments make her feel like she's not strong enough to take it.
she needs him
he needs her
making him hers was the only way things could have gone.
she never planned on releasing him,
letting him rest within her coils was the only way.

when he is not near, she longs for him and tightens with anticipation.
she wants him by her side always.
she wants to greet every morning with him and close out every night wrapped in his embrace.
she doesn't want to know life without him in it.

she had to possess him, entirely,
wrapping her limbs around him enveloping him in her cloud