30 (Almost)

Sally knows what it is like.

Sally knows what it is like.

Tonight is a melancholy kind of night. Which, let’s admit, first, in my time zone it is actually morning, and second, the occasional melancholy night can be an excellent opportunity for nostalgic remembrances. But I have experienced several in a row lately, and that is not terribly desirable.

Here is the truth: I am going to be thirty. (Insert When Harry Met Sally “going to be forty” quote) And I have not been in a serious, romantic relationship since I was twenty-one. And, to be fair, I have been mostly unconcerned on that front since I turned twenty-five. But there is something magical about 30 that can make you question your life.

So I went on ChristianMingle.com, just to look around and make sure I was even in an area where eligible men existed. After investing some of my free time completing most of a profile and personality-dating quiz, I discovered that being on a dating site in a town where you grew up is not optimal. People recognize you, and you get a kind of attention you never bargained for. Plus, ChristianMingle.com does not understand your history with the people on its site, and it will insist that this person is a 98% match for you, when the universe clearly understands the atrocities of such a match. These results led to some hilarious texts between my friends and me, which made it all worth it.

Delete profile. (Internet dating just isn’t my thing.)

So instead we have melancholy nights for a little while. And, honestly, I can live with that better than existing in the middle of a poor relationship life choice. If I were not to have a serious romantic relationship again, I would still thrive.

And anyway, it’s only thirty…right?

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Definitely Not Friends

Pushy – a bully
A chip on its shoulder
This day has interrupted a conversation
I was having with spring.

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Take that, Education!

An blue icon with a graduation cap and tassel.

An blue icon with a graduation cap and tassel. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I told someone not long ago that I’m glad to have recently traded my pretty decent poetry and scrambled emotions for pretty mediocre poetry and a decent life. Sometimes we’re just the more important piece in that puzzle. So, as a pallet cleanser for you and me, let’s take a taste of something that’s not poetry…

I was home schooled for a while, and then I got an undergraduate degree, and then I got a graduate degree. Apart from the debt I accumulated, I am an intelligent individual…or at least I am sometimes.

Today I was searching for apartments. Oh. My. Have I been searching for apartments. Let me just tell you that apartments are expensive if you live anywhere with lots of people. EXPENSIVE! And if you see a listing anywhere that is not expensive, it’s a lie. L-I-E. A lie to get you in the door where they can tell you that actually their rates are a little higher right now. It’s true. And there are application fees, administrative fees, pet rental fees, as well as your ordinary deposits and garage rental fees.

So here I was, lost in the maze of rental residences. And then, a light appeared. A beautiful apartment, not big, but close to my work and one of the cheapest I had seen yet. I rushed back to my parents’ basement (I know, shame and stereotype) where I’ve been for a few weeks while I look for an apartment. After running the figures with my mathematician father (who prefers to be called math-a-magician because he does math-a-magics) I found that the apartment was doable, but way, way too close for my budget. So I did what any perfectly sane, graduate-degreed adult living in her parents’ basement would do: I sulked.

I sulked and sat, and whined, and said “don’t you think?” to which he shrugged, and then I sighed. I was pitiful. After several hours I finally decided my performance was over and it was time to go to bed. And then I learned the magic of real math. While I sat on my bed I started thinking.

I looked at my pay stub, and I looked at the calendar. And then I looked at the pay stub again and looked at the calendar. I counted, and added, and subtracted, and almost got out the calculator. Instead, I switched out of that app and turned to my favorite contacts. I called my dad who was two floors up and going to sleep. And I calmly informed him that we’d have to look the numbers over again because I’d left out half my paycheck.

Take that, graduate degree.


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At the edge of the woods, at sunset.

At the edge of the woods, at sunset. (Photo credit: Jasmic)

A me I thought I recognized
Sauntered by the other day
As I was in the woods
Walking through webs
Of spider’s crochet

I spoke a greeting
She merely nodded, mute
And beckoned me on
Through twilight’s skirts
As branches clashed in dispute

She lit the way for me to see
As we traveled by nighttime
Past rocks and meadows
Into a small break
Past a clothesline

There I was – so many me’s
Each one I had once dreamt
Planned out for myself
Made up a story
Disregarded with contempt

And now I have a choice
To look on them again and see
If there’s one I want to become
One that will make
The best new me

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English: Pass under Flint Hill. One of the pas...

English: Pass under Flint Hill. One of the passes into Stobo Hope, between Flint Hill and Ladyurd Hill. Looking north, the far side is forested. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I feel like how I am perceived is out of my control lately. Like being me comes off to those with any clout as annoying and not to be tolerated. I was feeling pretty good about life, but sometimes I realize I’m being a particular pain to others, and that makes me relive some difficult times once more.

Running, fun-ing, climbing high
Feet against pavement,
Laundry drip-dries.
Reaching toward a brighter day
Old widower in funny toupee
Reveling at the very tip-top
Feet won’t catch a grip
Over the hill softly hop.
And now it’s a mountain
Falling free-will
Nothing to catch me
But another uphill.

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Well, life is super busy, and I am not doing the best at this posting thing. Maybe 4 times a week is a little much…

I have been moving Mindy Gledhill’s song Anchor. and it makes me inspired. :o) Wouldn’t it be great if we all had someone in our lives who just let us get away with things that sometimes can be so annoying? And maybe who would even think it was funny or cute once in a while. It could be good.

I sing and sometimes
Stay in tune
You smile and I know
I’m the song for you
I can’t keep my car
Neat and slick
You laugh and say
It’s impressive to drive a stick
I might forget where
I left my phone
You smirk and hug me
I breathe in your cologne

Please don’t over think
Or call me softhearted
I’ve thought you’re good for me
Since the day this all started.
You’ve given me perspective
To view my faults like you think
Let myself be loved as I am
Shrug a little and wink

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A Minute’s Vacation

e just spent about 2 hours with a lot of very young people. Sticky, stained, stinky young people. And yet, I was once one of them.

Also, when did renting get so expensive? This is the deep question I ask as I look for housing. Sometimes, if you can’t take a vacation, it might be good to mentally check out.

Hammock - Polynesia.

Hammock – Polynesia. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m sitting in a swinging hammock
As I sip on a frosty-laced drink
In my hand there’s a mango
On the ocean the sun’s turning pink

I don’t need a fan to cool me
Off the water there’s a chill breeze
The glorious feeling of freedom
Is nothing at which you should sneeze

I’ve left the worries of work behind
They’ve learned not to bother me
While I’m sitting here catching rays
A laptop won’t fit on my knees

In a minute I’ll wake up and realize
I’ve been daydreaming at my workstation
I just checked out of the here and now
I’m enjoying a minute’s vacation

May you enjoy a minute’s vacation today, and may it be wonderful.


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A Writing Career

Back of lumbar region, showing surface marking...

Back of lumbar region, showing surface markings for kidneys, ureters, and spleen. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A thousand poems I’ve started
A million poems I’ve read
A gillion people would laugh
If they saw what goes on in my head

A thousand times I’ve written
A million times I’ve erased
The gillion of hap-hazard ideas
That come, and I instantly hate

A thousand times I’ve wished
A million times I’ve seen
The gillion of nice things I’d have
If I’d simply sell my own spleen

Once upon a time I wrote a book. And once upon a time I thought I could get it published. Now I’m thinking that I’d better self publish online and enjoy the thought of even a few people just having enough interest to consider a book like mine worthy of downloading. Writing is very rarely a career, but it’s a great joy.

P.S. Please don’t resort to trying to sell your spleen. It’s kind of, somewhat important to your immune system. Plus it’s pretty illegal.

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Whoops. Took a day or two off and didn’t even realize it. I guess life is going faster than I knew.

English: Sparkler, violent reaction (guy fawke...

English: Sparkler, violent reaction (guy fawkes) Français : Cierge magique pendant la nuit de Guy Fawkes, en Angleterre. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Friday night I played with sparklers. :o) And it was very fun.

A star between my thumb and finger
Blazing, hanging, bright affair
Burning with a passionate fire
Running out of wick and torch
Comes to darkness in midair

A life that’s gone in just a blink
More than a flame with one wick
Nearly explodes with vitality
A dangerous item when ignited
Beauty contained in a sparkler stick

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To My Good Friend, the Wind

It’s nice to be in a windy place. I like it. Many people don’t like the wind, and in the summer it is a drag sometimes. There are moments it feels like you’re standing in front of the exhaust of a car. Still, the wind can bring a lot of relief. And for me, it feels like a friend.

English: Modern wind energy plant in rural sce...

English: Modern wind energy plant in rural scenery. Français : Une éolienne moderne dans un paysage rural. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Fold your arms around me
Lucent arms, full of strength
Squeeze me tight
Let me associate myself with the now

Verdure scents reminiscing of when
I, too, was green
Unassailable in your grip
Always stirring, always linger

Gather me up
Let me educe the good
Recalled in this moment
When I feel safe in your grasp

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