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Showing posts from November, 2012

Fragments 11/25

Saw a truck today: a gorgeous thing, parked on the too green for November in Maine grass in front of a peeling yellow house. Large, heavy, round hood, curving fenders, the Kate Smith of American trucks circa 1938. A small square table in a popular downtown eatery with my daughter this morning. I hate the word eatery. I thought you should know. She appologetically helped herself to my bagel. I drank her Orangina when she got up to get more napkins. My girl, black leggings, old blue sweatshirt pulled out of shape. Blue wool hat she wears everywhere. Her uncombed hair peaking out from underneath, hat pulled down over her forehead, hat resting on the tops of her glasses, her bemused grin, big teeth and braces... My girl is teeth, long skinny legs, and a blue wool hat. Gearing up for the winter, gearing up for Christmas, gearing up for what lies ahead, big mystery, big worry. What's next. Over the day, a transparency, a filament of shadow. The girl and I walked and ta

Assy ass.

There are days when I just can not stand to be near myself. I feel like a lazy ass, a dumb ass, a fat ass. An assy ass. Today is one of those days. Yesterday was one of those days. And the day before. And also the day before that one.

This ain't no Doll's House and I ain't no doll.

I think it was last year that I decided to blog every day for a month. I think my cool friends Lanna and Edmund inspired me to do this thing. And I think it made me sort of happy. As happy as I get.   Maybe I'll try to do this thing again. I have less time to myself than ever before. Even when the door to my room is shut, I'm not alone. The voices of upset kids, the hysterical barking of the dog, the ringing phone, all constant reminders that I am needed and my time away alone is time that should be spent attending to everything else.  I've had a shitty year, looking November last to November now.  I'm worn down, quite miserable. I don't much like my own company right now, and yet I long so desperately to be alone. I recall reading Ibsen's A Doll's House way back in high school or college. I was stunned that a mother would leave her children like that. Only a horrible selfish person would walk away from her own children.  There are days like