Still Thinking About Lightning

NPM #5

I think once the month is over, and I come back to these, maybe I'll find a way to combine the two pieces (hence the numbering, 1 and 2)

"Lightning"

2
Purple billows interrupted by an encroaching skyline.
Gray legos randomly stacked like bars of an equalizer.
(Pump up the volume.)
When you strike, we get the whole sound,
but there's only a fraction of the brilliance.
(This used to be wide open plains here.)
Been crowding you for a long time now.
But when you get good and ready,
you'll make room.

For Yesterday

NPM #4

This one is based on a real experience I had yesterday while driving to a homie's house to carpool. Luckily, there was no accident. I managed to keep my eyes on the road and let my peripheral take in the majesty.

"Lightning"

1
It's hard to focus on the road.
Every several seconds there's a flutter of light,
and my eyes dart
off the streets and all across the skies
looking for the finger
that's playing with the switch.

NPM Day 3

I started thinking of this poem last night, but I was too tired (lazy?) to get out of bed and write down what I had.  So I started writing it in my head, repeating the lines that I had and slowly adding to it.  I've tried this before, but to no available.  This is the first time I remember a poem coming to me in the night and staying until morning.  I'm not sure that it is verbatim, but all the ideas that I wanted to convey came back to me so I could write them down.  So glad it was more than a one night stand. Again, just a first draft, but it's a start.

#3

“Stretch Marks”

 

They sprawl across her hips and down her thighs.

Emerging from armpits, they claw at her breasts

in search of milk that was never there.

Then in spontaneous patches they appear –

down the sides of her ribs, on her belly…

 

If she were any other mammal,

this pattern would serve a purpose.

It would attract a mate, ward off predators,

provide camouflage in her natural environment.

 

These crooked lines of rippled skin,

like the lumpy, shiny edge along the seam of a mylar balloon

taut with helium.  She watches them grow.

First peach, then plum.

 

She gently fingers the fault lines.

Has there ever been a body so full of weakness?

There is no balm –

no amount of cocoa butter, aloe vera,

vitamin E will heal these scars.

Scars where there were never any wounds.

Proof

of a different kind of battle entirely.

**

Also, my big brother hits a milestone today.  Happy Thirtieth, T.  Love you.

Second for the day...

This isn't brand new, but it's still not finished. And I like the subject matter. This poem started out very different than it is now; maybe that previous iteration is a different poem altogether. Who knows? Anyway, now I'm on schedule.

NPM #2

“Ruins”

I found your abandoned blog.

There were comments left unread.

No forwarding information,

no farewell address…

Nothing to explain the mysterious disappearance.

I didn’t know where to look—

all the windows were closed.

The links had no leads,

and the search engine saw nothing.

I try not to think the worst,

as I click my way

from one dead end to another,

trying to get inside yourspace.

*( i took "yourspace" out of italics because it felt pretentious.  it was all "ooh, i made a reference to myspace but not.  look!  i meant myspace but said yourspace, isn't that clever? puh-lease.)

National Poetry Month...

For NPM, I will try to post a piece of poetry every day - hopefully original writing. They will most likely be first drafts and they may not rock your world or change your life, but I promise to have fun writing them. It comes as no surprise to me that I am beginning this endeavor a day late, as April began yesterday. But the bright side is that today will get two! two! two posts for the price of one! Many thanks to the priestess for reminding me of this special month.

NPM #1

"Do Not"

do not take me for a ride

do not leave me standing there

do not take me to a beauty shop

to pretty up my hair.

do not take me to the movies

do not leave me on the street

do not take me to the circus

for a death-defying feat.

do not take me to a diner

do not leave me with the check

do not take me on to second base--

put hickies on my neck.

do not take me to the theater

do not leave me at a show

do not take me to a restaurant

then sneak out the window.

do not take me in your arms

do not leave me all alone

do not take my number down

then forget I have a phone.

do not take my hand in marriage

do not leave me on the aisle

do no take me to the in-laws’s house

and expect me to smile.

do not take my love for granted

do not leave me to my thoughts

do not take offense when I commence

to cheat and then get caught.

do not take me to our future

do not leave me in our past

do not take me any place but now

where love is bound to last.

do not take me anywhere at all

don’t leave me stranded so--

I belong here, in this moment,

so love me tight then let me go.

**

Twenty-Something T____sdays

"I wish somebody would have told me

I could choose to be an extrovert

(or anything else I wanted)

when I was twenty-five."

- An Amazing Woman I Know

image found here.

damn you, Jung!

There’s this online personality perception assessment called “Johari Window”.  It compartmentalizes the personality into quadrants:  that which is know to oneself and others is the arena; that which is known to oneself but not to others is the façade, that which is known to others but not to oneself is the blindspot, and that which is known to neither oneself nor others is simply the unknown.

On the website, there’s a grid with all positive attributes.  The participant chooses 5, then sends a link to whomever for additional feedback.  The respondents have the option of including their names or replying anonymously.  But why would anyone want to be anonymous about positive feedback?  They probably wouldn’t, which leads me to the flip side of this tool…

There’s a criticism component of this assessment called “Nohari Window”, and it follows exactly the same process but uses personality flaws. I used the Johari version some time ago; I sent the link to several people whom I think really know me and have for some time.  I did not use the Nohari window at first because I was perfectly fine handling my flaws with a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy.  “I learned [a long time ago] never to ask a question I don’t want to know the answer to.”*

But I’ve just begun this series at work that asks for information that could be easily attained using these personality assessment tools, so I dug through my old emails to find the Johari responses, and then I sent out a link to the Nohari version.  Again, I chose several people whom I’ve known for some time and in depth – there was some overlap. “You can be anonymous, if that’s more comfortable,” I said in the email.  Oh, be careful what you wish for...

Now I know I asked for this, but I didn’t think it would really affect me. (Apparently I’m an idiot.)  It was sobering enough choosing 5 flaws on my own ("idiot" was not in my top 5); then to see some of those confirmed by others was a trip.  At least I could argue that I was self aware, right?  But the blindspot category really gave me a gut check because those are aspects that others see in me that I don’t.  Only 2 people have responded so far, and I'm considering sending it out to even more folks.  (What can I say?  “I’m an emotional cutter”.**) 

I’m so glad that I suggested the anonymous response because my discomfort disappears when I close the site window.  The anonymity allows the respondents to say what they feel; it lets me benefit from terse and constructive criticism, and nobody’s tires have to suffer in the process.  (I kid!  I kid!)  So as soon as I stop playing gumshoe,***I’ll begin to work on the flaws in my blindspot.  Or maybe I’ll just keep the Johari baby, and chuck the rest of this bathwater.

 

* Darius Lovehall, Love Jones

** Carrie Bradshaw, Sex in the City

***Dull? Seriously? Who said that?  What do I have to do, bungee jump?

images procured from the internet. just google "self perception" and "schizophrenia" - but not together. who knows what may pop up!)

Twenty-Something T___sday

“The best thing about life in your twenties

is the slow realization of endless possibility 

that seems to bloom under the skin,

imparting dewy confidence and bravado 

that suddenly mists your body

with a golden shimmer of prowess.

The best thing about your twenties 

is the slow, delicious awakening 

to the fact that you are indeed exquisitely, perfectly poised

to be absolutely anything and anyone you wish.”

-An Amazing Woman I Know

***

Can we just relish these words for a minute?  How often does one get to read or use such a phrase as "delicious awakening" or "dewy confidence"?  Being a twenty-something never sounded so good.

*(the perfect image to accompany this post is here.  i couldn't seem too, ahem, "borrow" it, so go take a look to get the full effect.)

Twenty-Something T____sday

If I had known at 25 

that life flows in cycles, 

then I wouldn't have thought 

so many things were the beginning and end, 

but merely seasons. 

-An Amazing Woman

now that's a trend of a different color...

i had to share this.  

my actual (edited) thoughts on this matter 

to come later.

Twenty Something T____sday, 2.0

"I wish somebody would have told me 

that cosigning anything for anybody is a bad idea 

when I was twenty-five."

 -An Amazing Woman

Timely, eh?  "Twenty-Something T___sdays" is back and hereby renamed because 1) I am out of order for keeping this knowledge to myself and 2) I reserve the right of flexibility with regard to which day I post.  I picked this gem because we all need one more economic/ finance reference to wig us the hell out, don't we? While this tidbit came to me a few months too late, I think it calls to our attention the importance of financial health.  What does that even mean?  I'm not sure, but let's have a go at it.

• Financial - adj.  pertaining to monetary receipts and expenditures; pertaining or relating to money matters; pecuniary: financial operations
• Health - n. 2) soundness of body or mind; freedom from disease or ailment: to have one's health; to lose one's health. 4) vigor; vitality: economic health
  

I'm tickled by the fact that the definition of health references money.  I guess even the dictionary knows that finances affect our soundness of mind.  If I'd known anything about cosigning, I would never have asked my sister to cosign a student loan for me.  I think we each only had the slightest idea of what that meant.  I just knew I had to finish school, and she just knew that if she could help me she would.  Thankfully, I am gainfully employed and on my ish, so she has no headaches - no phone calls from my lender saying, "Hey, did T change her number because we can't reach her..."  My sister has probably forgotten that she even did this magnanimous thing for me, and that's just the way I like it.  We're both young professionals trying to make our way in this world, and the last thing she needs is something else to worry about.

If I'd known anything about cosigning, I would have thought twice about cosigning for my relative.  I thought cosigning could not affect my credit.  I thought it would be just a signing of papers and then completely out of my hands.  I thought that my Relli would handle business in a such a manner that I could "forget" that I'd cosigned.  No. Such. Luck.  Let me be clear, my Relli is a hard worker; a very smart person with integrity.  Relli is taking care of a family of five, and busting the proverbial hump to do it.  But Relli has a problem with authority, so if payment is a little late and the lender calls, Relli's all, "Get off my back, Jack! When I got it, you'll get it, Sucka!"  That's when Relli answers the phone at all.  If Relli doesn't answer, the lender sends me mail, calls me - like an excited dog, "Hey! hey, did ya hear from Relli?  Didja, didja, didja? You know you cosigned, right? You know the payment's late, right?  Hey! Hey!  Throw the ball yeah, yeah, yeah..." So I'm more involved than I ever planned to be.  So much for the requisite birthday cards and holiday visits.

When my relative came to me to cosign, I did take a little time to think about it and do some superficial online research. I thought about my sister doing it for me.  I thought about how difficult it must be to ask for such a thing in the first place.  "What if you say no," I thought, "and Relli can't get out of this rut? What if you say yes, and this training improves the trajectory of Relli's current situation and future?"  I believed in Relli, so I said yes.  I don't regret cosigning because we're family, and this is what family does for each other. (Right, Cosbys?  Winslows?  Anybody?)  Plus, it's not like this is a perpetual concern for me.  Usually, Relli takes care of business, so I don't even have to get involved.  But when I do have to get involved, my emotional state goes from worry (I hope everything's okay) to annoyance (c'mon, Relli, get it together!)  to thankful (I'm in such a blessed state that I can help).  Then the reflux goes away.

I'll take this bit of advice and put it in my pocket, or my wallet, as it were.  I don't mind paying it forward, as long as you pay it back.  Ya dig?

Here's a fellow 20-something who blogs more consistently and candidly about coinage (amidst regular life stuff).  Check her out.

A Meeting, A Menu & a Meltdown, pt I

HomeBoy has this friend from work, and she invited us over for dinner eons ago. We didn’t really meet the family, but good times were had by all. Upon parting ways we exchanged the well-intentioned but hardly definitive pleasantries: “let’s do this again”, “we’ll have to have you over some time” yadda, yadda, yadda. Not that it was untrue, you understand, it’s just that invitations like that (in my experience) have no real expiration date. The true meaning is not to plan another activity but to let the other know that your door is open to them. That’s the important part, I think. But then again, many social norms are lost on me…

Over a month ago, HomeBoy relayed the message that his colleague was, ahem, waiting for me to invite her and her family to our house. We were both a bit perplexed by this. Had we waited too long to return the favor of her invitation? Why couldn’t HomBoy extend the invitation to them? He and I decided that there was some cute, albeit archaic “lady of the house” undertone. (Well, maybe the archaic part was all me.) So, in spite of my nervousness about the state of our Queen Mum and how poorly I perform with new people and my neurosis about being Muslim enough I said, “Let’s have them over this Saturday for dinner.” And then I died.

I decided on a menu of salmon, spinach and brown rice. Halal and simple enough. I asked HomeBoy if he thought we should get a dessert.

“Well, she said she would bring something,” he said.
“Cool. What?”
“I don’t know.”
“Thanks. Thanks for that.”

I had to laugh because if one is preparing a meal, and a guest offers to bring something, not only do you thank them profusely but you FIND OUT WHAT IT IS. So there’s one less thing you have to worry about. He who was doing no cooking at all could not have thought to ask this important question. So I laughed because it was more cute than frustrating. Fine, I’ll buy a dessert. As the week progressed and the day of reckoning came steadily upon us, I started to get a little paranoid.

“Should we have appetizers too? Should I order some samosas? Am I doing too much?”
A blank stare, then a response.
“No, that’s a good idea. How many per person? How much will that cost?”
“I don’t remember, but I can find out.”

So now we have 3 courses going on, 2 of which I’m not even cooking (because I am a self-aware woman after all). So early Saturday afternoon we start to pick up the odds and ends for our evening of entertaining. We opted for mini cupcakes for dessert and a pita chip + veggie dip appetizer over the pricey samosas. Everything was feeling right. We came home, I started cooking, got dressed, etc. Except for my increasing heart rate and body temperature, all was well...

It Really IS Out with the Old

My high school boyfriend, who barely made the transition to my college boyfriend, is relocating.  He sent me this message today:

 

Goodbye my orange moon, thank you for your light and remember, Mr. Lionel is always the man

 

-The Former

 

 My response was this:

 

(my, that sounds finite)

 

this occasion feels like it warrants a more momentous message, but I will follow your lead and keep it simple. 

i wish you love, many adventures, hard-earned successes, opportunities for growth, and all the happiness a skeptic can hope for.  so long, sir.

 

“you say goodbye, and I say hello”

 

-Me

**

 

I fancied myself a creature of extraordinary relationships.  This boyfriend of yesteryear, he of the end of my high school and beginning of my college career, was my first real love.  We experienced an intense crush, a high school senior prom and senior trip (with food poisoning on the side), a sweet post-high school summer, an emotional breakdown, separating for college (he in the North, I in the South), his breaking up with me one semester into our freshman year of college, my beginning to date homeboy (who would become HomeBoy – peep the capitals, that’s significant) which felt like a second break-up, slanderous emails, reconciliation and innumerous well-intentioned but malevolently-incited freestyle battles.

 

I felt special for being able to say “I’m still friends with my ex”, despite that fact that he and HomeBoy are not fond of each other.  HomeBoy is supremely secure in our partnership (as he should be), and, to be honest, the friendship that existed between myself and “The Former” had become little more than bare bones.  I sometimes pondered the significance of our continued communication.  It had become a “2 calls per year” sort of thing – one for birthdays and one in late spring to discuss the anticipation of summer blockbusters.  (Neither of us celebrate holidays.)  There may be an additional call here or there to share a new piece of writing or hold the other accountable for the writing that isn’t being done.  But that was all.

 

I struggled with whether or not to make some sort of formal break, or just let it continue to decline – fade into obscurity.  Two phone calls a year would surely dwindle to one and then none at all.  I would go to a book store with my husband and kids (many, many years in the future) and see his name on a book and smile; he would do the same in a book store half way across the world (or at least across the country), and that would be that.  So when I received  this message today, I was relieved and yet… there was this teeny, tiny feeling of loss.  So I cannot boast “I’m still friends with my ex” anymore, but we are neither enemies nor strangers.  I guess we  aren’t anything except “he” and “I”.

It is as it should be.

Resolved

"The past isn't dead and buried.  In fact,it isn't even past." - William Faulkner

"Self-improvement is masturbation." - Tyler Durden, FIGHT CLUB

All and all, I have had a good year, and I am thankful.  Still, I think that next year can be better.  Here’s how:

 

FAITH – I’m happy being a Muslim, but my practice could use a little more practice.

FAMILY – Reach out to the distant ones.  Get closer to the immediate ones.  Stay in better contact with friends, the chosen ones.  Give more love to all of them.

 

FITNESS – Let’s just say that most of the pictures I’ve taken as of late have been from the shoulder up; this is no coincidence.

 

FINANCE – I have gotten a little splurge-y lately, so I’m going to reign that in.  Also, I will try to pay off, in full, 1 of 2  student loans that I have.  This is super ambitious considering the amount, but I feel inspired by a friend who finished paying off her loans this year.

 

FUTURE – Set more goals.  Make a few plans.  But always know where the exits are (wink, wink).

 

I hesitate to add anything more to this list, even to feed my need for alliteration.  If I can pull off these five, that will be quite an accomplishment.  Besides, they are broad enough; if I wanted to include anything else, I’m sure I could rationalize said addition falling into one of the above categories.  I don’t want to go overbroad.  I’m [re]new to this.

 

I stopped making resolutions a few years back.  It seemed like too much pressure, and it was a big illusion anyway.  Why and how would the changing of one year to the next, via one day to the next, via one minute to the next, totally transform the way I lived my life?  I would suddenly break old habits and start new ones?  I would instantaneously abandon more pedestrian interests in pursuit of elevated endeavors?  I would leave the past behind and start anew?  Yeah right!  I knew better.

 

Yet, I wasn’t as clever as I thought.  While I nixed the NY resolutions, I suddenly began setting birthday “goals” that I would attempt to fulfill until my next birthday – a year later.  So I took the same illusion and moved it out by 6 months.  Revolutionary.  I’m back to December 31, setting intentions, making resolutions – whatever I want to call it.  I’m thankful for a chance to start fresh – even if it is an illusion. But I am not fooled.  I know there is nothing magical that occurs between 11:59pm tonight and 12:00am tomorrow morning.  If I am to have any success with these intentions/resolutions, the magic will have to come from me.

Rules of Thumb

I’ve come to learn that I cannot drive or cook when I am emotional, which means I am destined to be a pedestrian with a penchant for take-out. 

Let me explain…

 

I am, always have been, a feeler.  For better or worse, my emotions are the driving force of me, and my heart trumps my head on many occasions.  Indeed, not only does my heart overrule my head, sometimes my heart is so convincing that my head gets swept up in the commotion.

I’ve already told of the St. Louis incident.  Well, this time it was a culinary catastrophe.  HomeBoy and I came home one evening last week, and I was preparing to cook.  I’d received a few phone-calls and emails from family members in need throughout the day, and it vexed me.  I have no problem giving, and I love to help (esp. people I love), but I felt so overwhelmed.  Maybe it was the fact that hands were coming from so many directions at once; maybe it’s because I felt confused.  I thought the last time I did this would be the last time I did this. I became frustrated and anxious and just a little paranoid.  Note to self: these are not the emotions to indulge when chopping onions.

 

Somewhere between wondering how I could help and recalling the wisdom of “teaching a man to fish”, my hand started bleeding.  I had chopped the corner of my thumb clean off.  The sounds that I let out – I did not know they were inside me.  The way that I wailed and cried, moaned and cursed, you would think I was at war and just lost a limb!  HomeBoy ran to my aid and saw me bleeding.  He went to get gauze and bandages and told me to put pressure on my thumb to stop the bleeding.  But I couldn’t stop the crying.  I cried for the pain in my thumb, but I mostly cried for the pain in my heart and head.  HomeBoy cleaned me up and tried to console, “I know, Baby.  I know it hurts.”

 

“Yes,” I thought, “You know that it hurts, but you don’t know how it hurts – or why.”

But HomeBoy didn’t know because I didn’t tell him.  I didn’t tell him because I still worry about burdening people with my cyclical thinking and neuroses – even the people who make it plain that they want to be there for me.  It’s been just over a week since bloody Wednesday, and I am so much better in so many ways.  My thumb is healing nicely, and my heart is much better.  I’m realizing that if I don’t release at least some of what is inside, it will find its own way out – through a rental car fender  or an unsuspecting appendage.

 

 

Happy Birthday X2

December 7, 2008

Dear M&M,                                                                                               

 

I chose this card for both of you for 2 reasons: 1) I like Dr. Seuss 2) you’ve come a long way from being “Thing 1 and Thing 2”.  When you were little, that’s how I thought of you: Mark and MeLissa, always together; always in a set – a pair.  But you two are nearly young adults now and have your own identities, personalities and lives.  I don’t know if I tell you enough, but I am so proud of you two.  You are strong, smart, kind and funny (and you’re cute too, but let’s not get a big head about it).  You have handled all that has come your way, for better or worse, to the best of your abilities.  You continue to become phenomenal individuals because of and in spite of your surroundings and family.

As you approach young adulthood, I want you to examine your lives. Take a good look at the people in your lives and learn from them; they can teach you what to do or what not to do.  Both lessons are equally important.  Determine what you want from life.  Set goals and stay focused, and ask for help whenever you need it (you can always ask me).  Follow the rules, of course, but don’t shrink or back down for anyone.  Enjoy yourselves, but act responsibly, and surround yourselves with others who have common sense and a conscience.  Remember that the world doesn’t own you anything, but you don’t owe it (or anyone else) either.  This life is an equal exchange – you get what you give.  

You have so much ahead of you – graduation, college, your first real jobs… the list goes on and on.  But you also have so much behind you – memories, achievements, lessons learned.  I’m behind you too.  I’ll support your dreams, try to understand your trials and celebrate your successes (of which there will be many). I have only request – I ask you to look to each other for friendship; you are far too mature for sibling rivalry, and it is time to start confiding in and sharing with each other.  Use each other as a resource, and develop trust.  Believe in one another and love one another and protect each other – fiercely and ferociously.  This is very important.

Finally (but also primarily), remember that God is all knowing and all powerful.  When you’ve done all that you can do – tried your hardest in any situation –  sit back and be patient, for the rest is taken care of.  Happy Birthday.

 

More Love Than You Know,

Big Sister

(image came from here.)

silent nights...

things i should have written about long before now:

- the election (my reaction to the outcome, at least)

- my dad's visit (it's been, what? 3 weeks now?)

- thanksgiving (the obligatory post about all there is to be thankful for...insert warm fuzzies...etc...)*

- twenty something tuesday/thursday (what? so you have all these good bits o'wisdom and you're not even gonna share 'em? get with it!)

- home renovation progress (though that saga will always continue)

things i can still write about without feeling stupid-late:

- holiday movies, on TV and in the theaters (i don't celebrate the holidays, but i am always in front of the tube when it's time for The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Home Alone or Charlie Brown anything!)

- new years resolutions (some will call them intentions, others will call them wishes; po-TA-to, po-TAH-to - any reason for a fresh start is good with me)

- other blogs (why not, right? i mean, any medium that lasts eventually begins to comment on itself)

- home renovation progress (i said the saga continues)

resolved:

because in the past (and probably in the future) i have neglected to post in a timely manner about things that i find worthwhile, i would like to present...

THE RETRO-POST
"because the memories get better, the more i forget"**

* before anyone gets up in arms (insert mccain joke here) i'm very grateful for the innumerable good people and stuff in my life - every day


** okay, that's not really true, but it's funny

what's black and brown and blue all over?

To Do:

- brush & floss --- X

- make prayer --- X

- eat breakfast --- X

- get to work early --- X

- participate in making history (again) --- X

It's only 8 am, and already a very productive day.

Autumn All Day

It was quintessentially autumn all day yesterday - crisp high winds rattled leaves from trees. Some were brilliant oranges, golds and reds. Some were a dying brown. Still others were green, but they were all flying. All in swirls of delight, little dancers on a bright blue backdrop. They seemed to move to the rhythm of the music we played in the car on our way to pick up some odds and ends. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Then it was 30-something degrees this morning. Was it thirty-five degrees? Thirty-nine? Is there a difference?

I guess this is what they mean when they say, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Well, it was autumn in Kansas City for an entire day, and I didn't sleep through it. So that's good.

(Sheesh, and also "Brrr".)

breakdown, and let it all out...

Here's the funny thing, all this time I thought catharsis only worked if you spewed all over other people. I wrote a post nearly two weeks ago about what was causing my writer's block, and I have read and reread that post many times since then. I have been hesitant to post it because it contains some very vulnerable sh*t and I wonder(ed) if it would affect the way folks interact with me (especially since a number of my readers are people I interact with outside of the internet). What I've come to realize, however, is that by virtue of writing down what I have been avoiding, I have become substantially less blocked. Am I half way through the next great American novel? No. But I am writing - in this space, comments on other spaces, in my leather bound journal, poems, honorary pieces for special occasions, funny bits and pieces... I was not doing that before because the only thing that wanted to come out of me was the thing that I wanted so desperately to keep inside. (This is strictly metaphorical and not at all anatomical, folks. Don't be alarmed.)

I spoke to a very good friend of mine about this writer's block and my struggle with it. Why, if I knew what was causing the problem, would I not fix it? Why not remove the block? Well, maybe because that block is the cornerstone in a much larger wall - perhaps even a dam. And am I ready for it all to come tumbling down - am I ready to sink or swim in it - just so I can get some words out? That's a tough one.

Shouts out to the other earnest, inconsistent bloggers out there. We'll get around to it, and we'll wait.