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I just walked back to the office from lunch with a marriage license and half a tuna melt. The enormity of this situation has set my soul quietly back in awe. I have had plenty of tuna melts before, but this is my first marriage license. It is a big damn deal.

I am so happy I am afraid of incurring a jinx with every breath I take. Thus the tuna melt subterfuge.

sky heart

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crowding the ice box

June 11, 2014

Wow.

I just closed my office window all by myself by simply pulling it down. With my arms.

It’s a cranky old window, gorgeously paned and all that but sticky and stubborn; until today every time I’ve opened it I’ve had to basically hold onto it and jump in the air to force it up, and every time I’ve closed it I’ve had to lift my feet and hang off it with a cold dead fingertip grip to budge it.

window

Either it’s becoming accustomed to use or those pushups are paying off.

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a wrecking force

June 11, 2014

I totally want this. Nam sayin?

512NsHX1ksL._UL1500_I am

 

Polyester!

June 6, 2014

I wonder how it came to pass that lo, the shopping cart was the chosen house stuffs transport of homeless people. Did one super trendy homeless person start it, and then everyone else was like, ‘hey, that’s a fine idea!’ Or is the phenomenon owing more to the actual functionality of the shopping cart when it comes to hauling things around? I do totally understand its merits, such as I am aware of: free, wheeled, very good for carrying things, not (much) wrecked by rain…

However as a career bad cart chooser, I cannot imagine they are very awesome to deal with. Of course I don’t have to move all my house things around more than once a year or so most of the time, so maybe I am putting undue focus on the downsides of a very necessary and noble mechanism. All I can say is that the older I get the worse I get at choosing carts, and I was never good at it to begin with. My current high score is the cart whose front wheel or so has completely given over giving a fuck and is orbiting its axle like a dog on a long leash orbits the tree it’s tied to. I have this entire new skill set I like to call Cart Drifting.

Anyhow. I guess you just wonder, when you hear the unmistakable rattle of a laden cart over sidewalk earlier in the morning than you were even awake beforehand. Are there any good shopping carts out there? And if there are, do they all belong to homeless people?

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I can feel the life oozing back into me. Blood flows, the dull pump of my heartbeat rushes audibly in my ear canals again, I can feel my lungs inflating with air; whole long breaths like I haven’t had in months. Tears of gratitude burn in the corners of my eyes. I am going to live.

I am almost done with math class, bitchez.

As one of those flutterby sort of creatures who has spent most of her existence and energy on the not unfortunate quantity of things that come naturally and easily to her, I am always amazed by the toll an actual effort of will and work exact on my entire system. Math class has been hard. It has been hard all by itself on its own time by the strength of its own merits. It has been hard to be around and communicate with. It has been hard to enjoy any success in. And it has been hard on me, body and soul. In place of my whimsy, a chronic vague dissatisfaction at my utter inability to factor out the damn x. Instead of my joyousness, a creeping fear that I will never be able to remember to simplify before I multiply. And where my open heartedness and patience and love for the rest of the human race used to be (barring persons who ride the elevator up one floor or the persons who shoot inexplicably into oncoming traffic, yes, I have my limits) there has been an unsought conviction growing that I will never be able to approach the parabola of a quadratic function with anything resembling confidence. What I am saying is, math is not one of those cheerful little gateway drugs like marijuana or smirnoff ice. It is the full on dark and dirty whole shabang, and it will take you over and scratch out your finest personal qualities and destroy your life. Consider yourself scared straight.

However, now that I only have one itty bitty (whoppity whopping) final exam left in the entirety of the class, now that I can actually breathe like a healthy human again, I am pretty stoked that yea though I walked through the valley of the shadow I have not only emerged, but I may in fact emerge victorious. I also may not. There is really no telling whether or not I am going to pass this class, because this class is an abusive relationship both passive aggressively emotionally damaging and also fist to the face bone crunching. But oh my god. I have made it through the wilderness. I have made it throo oo ough. And I do have to say, now I have an entirely new vocabulary with which to craft my metaphors and allegories. Math is a total minefield of excellent words and really complex relations to liken other shit to. This is totally not what I was supposed to take away from my intermediate algebra class, but hey. We all have to work with what we’ve been given.

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May

lights

garden

clinks

baby animals

chunk

isabelle's foot

Behold the remarkable length of MAH HAYRS!

Behold the remarkable length of MAH HAYRS!

 

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