poemcrazy, today. literally. and crazy today, too. maybe certifiably.

no more music. what I want is horseback, sweaty hair and warm leather, fly-filled barns and straw. what I want is the highway, spread before me like time, nothing else holding me down. yesterday the road looked like water, maybe because of the heat. it actually looked like water, like someone had sprayed it with a hose, and when I drove over it I was suprised to discover it dry.

am I coming back? do you see snippets of the girl I once was? sometimes I feel a flicker, or like something within me is shouting from a great distance. shh, where is she? where are you?

I thought about lying in the middle of my backyard while it rained, in all my clothes, and letting the wet soak through. I think I wouldn't mind driving to south carolina. I think I want authentic grits and good coffee. today I almost drove home just to run the maryland trails. knees in the river, my dog hopping in the passenger seat, turtles on the side of the road. shannon thinks i'm brave for climbing the bell tower, but I can't see life otherwise.

me: I just had state farm on my cell phone and shannon incessantly talking on my answering machine and that was like a media overload
katie: oh man!
me: with my brain trying to listen to both and consequently listening to neither
me: and I have an EIGHT in the morning appointment tomorrow for damage estimate. ugh.
katie: yeah, I know the feeling
me: and close to being good, but impossibly far
me: what is it I want? what is it I crave?
me: UGH
me: I'm tired of being this person
me: shannon said this is what lost years mean:
me: or rather, she suggested that we do: get well-acquainted with tequila. "have you made the list yet???" she asked. she said, travel, go to class drunk or stoned ('it takes practice but no one will notice anyway'), make mistakes, "find yourself". I think she even said it in quotes, or in the tone of voice that implies them.
me: what i really want to do, though:
me: grow wildflowers, stay out all night with someone I'm desperately in love with, write slim novels, learn to paint, live in a big rickety house in the middle of nowhere, ride horses.
me: and maybe drink margaritas and eat ice cream.
me: do you ever feel like you can have wonderful friends but still be desperately lonely?

and then, my writing session with tom:

I would be the shadow of fingers on piano keys
dull grey-brown, almost colorless
but not unexciting; rather, in motion, fluid,
always creating beauty and sound.
I would be inside-of-an-orange
before breaking it open completely
still new, the air fresh on my skin.
what shape? the fleeting figure of a horse in full motion,
a soft cherry-round circle,
an isoceles triangle.
sound:
the low sweep of lips brushing skin,
bare feet against rough pavement,
a girl surfacing from a plunge into ocean waves
one short deep breath and a splash.
a greyhound, if I could,
every single aspect of me built for motion and flight
no speck unwasted, nothing without purpose.
a used pick-up, blue, with rust on the back fender
and a dent in the passenger door
vinyl interior, slightly ripped
a smell of slight gasoline, wet dog, and sunshine
the bed covered in dirt and motor oil
packs of index cards in the glove compartment
cards filled with words
names
phone numbers
addresses
and things I love, generally.
a pirouette, toes gripping ground
arms flung out
world spinning merrily around..
a ginkgo
something ancient and alive
rare and beautiful
useful, desolate.
twenty-three;
the number of my years on this lovely place
and prime.
which is what we should all be, when it comes down to it:
divisible only by ourselves
and one.

6/11/04

I decided to forsake the strawberry festival [[read: strawberry shortcakes, free massages, and a two mile race I signed up for weeks ago]] in order to watch the entirety of the reagan proceedings. what is free dessert and running in the face of that history? I cried a few times. no matter how people view his presidency, he was still president, and that still means something. who knew I could be so patriotic? when they began to toll the bells -- not just in D.C. but everywhere -- it occurred to me that probably no one was tolling the crouse bells. so I drove up to campus and I asked martha sutter, who consented, and then I let myself into the bell tower, went up to the carillon, and rang the bells for ronald reagan. I played amazing grace, hail to the chief, and god bless america before tolling the low C forty times. I hadn't played the bells since the one time freshman year when bryanna parr taught me how, and I was terrified, but I didn't miss a note. there was something sacred about it; the single light shining down on the levers, just me and the dust and the quiet, and the giant bells. afterward I sat for a moment, thinking of what must be going on elsewhere. and then I climbed through the trapdoor to where the bells were and just stood in awe. I wished desperately that I had my camera. and I realized that I'd found my perfect place to write.

I left feeling like I'd done something important.

and gosh, we should all be so blessed to be loved like that, to have a nancy reagan by our sides, faithful and protective. I can't even think that without crying.

5/25/04

things to do today:
--keep standing here at work, listening to howard stern and hoping no one comes into the store because I don't feel like dealing with them
--go into the office & print out 100 or so copies of the SFO letters, grab the address list and some envelopes, and jet out
--oh, but before that, check Tapia's email and make list of people who are and are not playing in SFO this year
--go home and fold letters while watching kids movies or dr.phil
--potentially go grocery shopping first, because I really have no food at all

I think that's it. I think I might lay in bed and do nothing, except knit and read and fold letters. OH:

--go to library, get the rest of the green knowe books, return some books & CDs I'm done with

p.s. my body hates me and I woke at three this morning to throw up fiesta wrap from last night, which was more than moderately unpleasant. stomach, digestive tract, why can't you digest like a normal person? I was up from three until four something, and then again at five, and then I stayed up until six thirty and fell back to sleep until eight fifteen, when I got up and threw on clothes and went to work unshowered with my teeth unbrushed. and still feeling like I'd throw up. but I'm better now, mostly, just hungry. I'm eating special K red berries out of a baggie. I guess food shopping is a priority. but it was kind of nice to sleep on the couch and listen to the news as I dozed. these are the times I'm most glad no one lives with me, so I can sleep in the bathroom and lay on the couch and moan and not worry about waking anyone, having anyone fawn over me, etc.

my birthday is in four days! :)

5/21/04

if it were possible for me to get back into my car and drive back to maryland right now, I would. I can't explain how strong a desire I have to be away from here. I haven't been this homesick since my first days at SU. I'm not ready to come back to this life! I want cicadas, dogs, trails, rivers, my mother. I forgot to take the trash out, so the whole apartment smells awful, and I'm too sad and repulsed to try and conquer it now, so I just set the whole can outside. a spider has decided to make her home in my bathroom -- ALL of my bathroom. I've walked through lots of web. she and I are going to have a "discussion," and her little egg sac too. who knows what might be lurking in my bed. I smelled my laundry just to capture the smell of home, which never got old. I had one phone call on the machine, from some stupid satelite person calling to see if I wanted service. the phone charger doesn't seem to have been working properly and so the phone handset is completely dead. I don't know if more people called or not; the caller ID only shows the one call, but I doubt that's right. it probably died before any others. I cried briefly, outside. if it weren't dark I'd go biking. tomorrow I have to work. I don't care one bit about it. I was going to get the rest of the green knowe books from the liverpool library but I thought, oh, there'll be a lot to do when I'm home, I'll just get them tomorrow. now I'd do anything to have them, but the library closed ten minutes ago. I don't have any materials for a mobile, and it's too late to go out and get them. at home I couldn't recall this feeling of desolation, of feeling like nothing and nowhere. there I felt full and happy, wholesome, breathing wonderful air and sitting in the dark, writing. bugs flew at the screen. my dog panted under the kitchen table. my feet were dirty from walking. my sister gave me random hugs, and my brother and I burped at each other.

5/20/04

I took a vicodin. I'm waiting to see what happens. my legs are starting to feel funny. rossi and I are telling stories about things we've done stoned. I feel like tonight I could wrap my arms around the world, in love. tonight driving to jen's I decided I don't want to go back to syracuse, because I don't feel like facing my responsibilities. I wish it were possible to relocate all the syracuse people I love to maryland and then stay here with them all around me and then I would be happy. but of course that'd never work either. I guess I'll just have to keep my heart spread all over the globe. today I bought two new shirts, had a root canal, drank coffee, and spent the afternoon playing cards with my mother and eating sandwiches. I cleaned out my car, played my bass, and packed. I had some dessertish (what the hell do you call a meal like that, man? :) ) thing with jen down at towson diner. this place is where I belong. but then I talk to rossi and it's funny, and that night in the band office with the pigeon was priceless, and I belong there too. this is geographic, here; I love the woods, the way the earth smells, the sky, our fields, the back roads and weather. but in syracuse, there is friendship and love -- when you are young and single and living alone, your friends are your family. that feeling of belonging, I get it mostly on nights going to crouse late, meeting erin or rossi or just practicing, feeling a sense of completely belonging. oh, world.

erin's mobile is my first project when I get home. I will do my garden chimes at the same time. I have to rent in the cut again to see the one she has, the mobile, because that's kind of what I have in mind for the backyard, or maybe my front window. something really tactile -- coins and buttons and glass. I want it to make soft clinking sounds, no tones per se. I can hear it in my mind's ear.

tomorrow I drive back. how do I feel about it? I don't know. next week I told josh -- I called him at half past midnight tonight to tell him -- that he and I are going to drive to ocean city for the day, just the two of us, to catch up with one another's lives and just to hang out and be. and because I love adventures, however small.

5/19/04

today, on the NCR trail:
a calico cat who kept rolling over flirtatiously when I pet him
three chipmunks
three rabbits
a squirrel
a chocolate lab and his man friend
an androgynous person in all black listening to headphones and riding a bike
a baby turtle the size of a fifty cent piece, which I rescued from mid-trail and held for five minutes before returning to the leaves on the trail's outskirts

my parents bought me a bike for my birthday, which is in ten days. I like it. it's blue. they also bought me a hitch for my car, with which I can lug my bike everywhere, safely. I bought myself a lock. because the boy/man in the bike store who helped me was nice and good-looking and my parents agreed when I said he must have thought I was cute. he helped us the whole hour we were there, laughed at me when I braked with my flipflops instead of the brakes, and told me that he'd gone to RIT and missed upstate new york winters. he was from connecticut but had a developed maryland accent, probably more than me, even though I've picked it up again while home.

tomorrow at eight a.m. SHARP I have a root canal. then I'm going to curves to get my mother her late mother's day present, a free month. and then to michaels to pick up materials for mobiles. and then to the mall to get myself a new shirt or two. and then I'll eat a snowball, because hopefully my mouth will have unnumbed. and then maybe jen and I will go to dinner, or I'll go swimming with my siblings. or I'll go for a bike ride. or I'll run a trail. and I have to call work. and I'll give my mom her present. maybe I'll take pictures.

I rode twenty miles today, or so. maybe only eighteen. I have read two green knowe books. I love them. large beetles or cicadas are flapping uselessly at the window. syracuse takes something out of me, and maryland puts it back. biking today was the only thing I wanted to do in the world, and it felt so good to be in the woods. and if I ride fast enough I can tell myself stories out loud because the wind catches my voice and no one else is around to hear, anyway. today I decided I want to live in a house with land all around, and quiet, with dogs and animals to love, with horses, where I can do my own yardwork and gardening and it smells good, like earth and tree bark. that's all I want in life. now a moth's quiet wings are pattering at the screen. I parked my bike to explore an area of trails I'd never noticed before; I went running up a steep embankment and the effort felt so good, I wanted to run forever. I want the place I live to have water. I love water in a hierarchy based on how fast it moves. lakes more than ponds, rivers more than lakes, oceans more than rivers. but there's something about the gunpowder; it owns me, somehow. I think if I died I'd want to dissolve right into it, or partially into it and partially into the ocean. I wished today that mulberries were spring harvests, so I could turn my fingers purple eating them off the trail, near the sign that says "caution: poisonous snakes".

oh, this life! my brother went from tiger to wolf tonight in boy scouts. I wish I had been a boy scout. I wish I had been a boy scout, an eagle, a rock, a horse, and a hurricane. in no particular order. goodnight.

5/17/04

things seen while running:
four separate instances of horse droppings
a single footprint of a runner/walker before me, in the mud
"fuck" spelled out in what appeared to be fishsticks, though some of them were missing

the ridge trail, today: straight through the archery trail, then downdowndowndown to the bottom, across the stream and then UP, I had forgotten how long and steep that UP was; the terrain changes to rock, you have to leap over some logs. a gradual descent, a right hand turn, a path. you skirt the ridge. you descend again, cross the river again, and then up an ascent so steep it's steplike, you have to raise your knees to your chest. I've been trying to run it again for five years; I could just never seem to get to it. I think running these old trails is as much about memory as it is about fitness. I wanted to see: could I remember every turn? I did. I remembered, even, where certain trees had fallen, the slant of the branches. I washed my face and arms in the river. I peered down the ridge. why go back to syracuse? maybe I could just stay here.

my hands smell like crabs and I am deliciously tired. tomorrow I may buy a bike; steve said he'd go halfsies with me ('but don't tell your mother!'). then when I get back I could tote it on my new hitch; I could take it to the lake and ride all the way around. all the way! I think my mom has a birthday present for me. steve mentioned it. I am so easily excitable.

thursday I have a root canal. YUM. I will not be able to feel my face, and then I'll go hang out with josh. and maybe eat snowballs, because that's what I do. my hands will probably still smell like old bay. my hair may still smell like the river. these things feel right, somehow.

5/16/04

the air always smells like damp woods, because the river is everpresent, near you no matter where you are. today while reading I came across a moment where the main character drinks coffee with chicory and suddenly with great clarity I knew I couldn't stay in syracuse for much longer; oh, how I miss this area of the country, the beginning of the south. what a funny place maryland is: to new englanders and new yorkers it's South; to the deep southerners it's North. we were a free state; we floated, I guess that's why we don't have a classification. it's home, no matter how you classify it. the grass has a buttery smell and people say their o's and a's in a funny way, we eat snowballs and crabs and the sky is big. the cicadas are here; ours began climbing up the trees this evening, while we ate out back. I found one still shedding its skin and carried it around. later my uncle had one climbing the leg of his shorts; he implored me to take it away. I did. it kept climbing to the top of my fingers. I let it dismount on some tree bark. tomorrow we will hear them singing.

I feel like a wild thing. I don't know what that means. I feel like some force has been unleashed in me that I am desperately afraid to lose. it is this air and this water. yesterday my sister and I waded in the river for an hour. I loved how she is just like me, eager always to be in the water, not afraid. we pretended there were sharks, and the bottoms of our flipflops got so caked with mud that we could barely lift them, so we took them off. my mother and brother joined us after his baseball game, and we waded upstream until we started to sunburn. I found a baseball, and kept it. I desperately want to go tubing, or to drive to ocean city, just randomly, and spend the day. today I ran the entire cross country course from memory. every school must have its funny things, its nicknames and inside jokes. our crosscountry course and the dip, the cornfield, the maze--they felt like old friends, I had no idea I cherished them so much. I didn't stop once, not even at the vomitous second run of the dip, two and a half miles in. our cross country course is the hardest in the state, and that's why. we hold the state championships there every year.

[[oh, that smell, wet tree bark and river and soil, the sound of crickets, the cool night air. why did I ever leave maryland? what is keeping me at syracuse?]]

josh called today to see when we could get together. I want to steal him away for a day, take him to the ocean, tell stories in the car about what our lives are like. he has to work every night, and it is impossible. I talked to paul, my junior-year boyfriend, pre-rob, for two hours, and I haven't seen him in three years; I forgot that he can make me laugh more than anyone else on the planet, over the stupidest things. we probably spent ninety percent of our time talking shit to each other; in my opinion the choicest moment was when I jokingly said, 'these days I'm so popular I'm like prom queen,' and he replied, 'we WERE prom king and queen, don't you remember? at least, that's how I tell the story." it was my favorite prom, come to think of it. tonight we told stories to each other about that year of high school, unlike all the others. I said, did it really happen to us? were we really those people? we tried to recall what had made the four of us friends. he almost remembered. I said, I think it was something in the air; after that year, everything went back to normal again, like it had all never happened.

5/8/04

three weeks until my birthday.!

I have a million projects to work on. I am lethargic. I discovered yesterday that there are two lilac bushes between my yard and my neighbors, and you can bet I'll be out there with clippers in about thirty minutes to get some blossoms. oh, I just love the smell. what is up with this cold? monday I start a new regime of nutrition and exercise. when I try to stop drinking coffee I end up just drinking a LOT of it instead. this week I'd like to do a lot of biking and hiking. and reading. those are my goals for the summer. oh, and running. and art. and should I cut this mane off? I think I might. I think monday might be a good day for a massage. and maybe a haircut. and then maybe I should save my money.

in other news, I've begun a potentially long-term project of archiving the stacks and stacks of mysterious manuscripts we have lying around in the o.library, written by one I think as yet unknown michele r. annunziata, a utica man who was around in, if I remember correctly, the 1930s. the orchestra library, my office/hovel, has at least six boxes full of manuscripts and letters, paraphernalia of this man; I can't imagine how long it's been sitting there, neglected. who knows what kind of gems we might have, unknown music just waiting to be discovered. I started tonight, but my finale skills are pretty poor, and my arm cramps up quickly. still, there's something exciting about it; there's a whole opera! now I just have to find someone to translate the italian...and an unfinished piano concerto, still in working progress. AMAZING.

this website will go through drastic changes, hopefully, in the next couple of weeks. just so you know. there might be robots. just so you know.

4/29/04

our birthday is in one month EXACTLY. just keeping you posted.

oh gosh, what a lovely day. I walked to Montana Mills this morning and bought myself a cup of coffee and a loaf of cinnamon swirl bread, and oh, how decadent. The lake, if I pretend, could pass for the ocean, especially today. Farther inland, just a block or two, distance-wise, it was purely sunny and warm, but the lake is so turbulent, with white caps, and the mysterious wind which always comes off of bodies of water. Is it from the tide? or are the strong waves from the strong wind? I was going to skip stones a la Amelie but the waves were too strong. There were four ducks -- two males, two females -- swimming their way against the current across the lake, and I fancied that Stephanie and I must look just as they did when we paddle our way strongly through the breakers each summer. tomorrow I have no real plans, which means I can spend the entire day on foot, exploring my little village, running, browsing through the shops on first street. I indeed do not have to give a jury this year, which is just fantastic. I have one project and then my year is DONE. tomorrow I will buy a bass, and katie a guitar. and we're half a band! ROCK.

4/25/04

a lovely day watching my cousin in her last normal season game for towson lacrosse. despite the rain and cold; it was good to see you, tippy! I spent the afternoon driving around eastern central new york, passing through the countryside of oneida, madison, etc. I saw vernon downs and sat in awe at the amount of flat, lush green fields. it was a great adventure, singing beach mix CDs at the top of my lungs, feeling free and happy. I only have two classes, two days left of school, one project and then I'm done. I suppose I should practice for my lesson. tomorrow I begin running, full time, for real. megan & I have vowed to try and reshape our bodies together, get ourselves into being athletes--dancing or running, as the case may be-- as we once were. I've laughed a lot tonight. I have to call Sar and get directions to hiking trails.

4/24/04

the boys at work make me feel good about myself; when I said, 'gee, is the heat on? I'm getting hot," both tom and mike immediately and in perfect unison, unplanned, said, "GETTING hot??" I smiled. thanks, boys.

tonight I ate broccoli, and then later a peanut butter and potato chip sandwich. yes, that's right. my teeth are driving me mad, and still no phone call from utica. curses. zoinks.

hey, my birthday is in 34 days. thank goodness you know just what I want. or at least some of it.

4/23/03

in a funk lately. I am still reading Infinite Jest. I sent a letter to David Foster Wallace, and I'm afraid he might think I'm crazy. really secretly I'm hoping he calls me. my tooth is absolutely killing me. I was out until four last night, with shannon & the girls. what will I do when she leaves? my IBS is out of control lately, like a monster is eating my stomach from the inside out. I have two more days of school. OH MY GOD THIS TOOTH. I think I might start making mobiles for money. let me know if you want one. I am going to revamp this website when school is out and I'm no longer manic depressive. maybe it will involve robots. I like robots, they make me laugh.

4/15/04

this just fucking cracks me up. and also kind of creeps me out, simultaneously. but really, it's inducing, like, fits of hysterical laughter.

many of you wonder what I am up to. today I am cooking dinner AS WE SPEAK in the crock pot. I run on occasion, by the lake. I am housesitting for the lavertys. I am drinking WAY too much coffee lately, but oh well. generally I feel pretty good about things. I would not mind hanging out with you sometime this summer, if you're anywhere within a few hours of here. I am pissed about owing taxes, but I paid them just the same, even though I make well under the poverty line. my bag is blue and black checkered. I have a week and a half left of classes, including two concerts. the monitor screen just wiggled very strangely. I have been carrying my duct tape wallet again, and tonight I think I'll buy a vacuum. that's all. soon maybe I'll have a computer that can handle the DSL service which has been running in my apartment for three weeks now. jason thinks I must be doing top secret things, because I don't write here anymore. really I'm just lazy.