Monday Night Musings

I remember when Fridays smelt like pizza
and Mondays were exciting.
I remember looking at a boy and deciding
"I'm gonna have a crush on him."
Then telling everyone I knew
not to tell.
I remember when ponytails
just meant pulling your hair up,
and not putting bobby pins in.
I remember when summer
lasted a lifetime,
and school lasted two,
and I remember when missing school
didn't mean getting a part time job of makeup work.

I imagine a blonde
in her world
of school lunch calendars
and late nights til 9.
I see her
in a pink t shirt
at the next door neighbor's
playing her game of witches
and princesses
and fairies
and house.
Then she'll run in
feet dirty and hair a mess
chattering about 100 day
and the mean boy in her class.
I'll just smile
and nod
because I remember when Fridays smelt like pizza.

inspired introductions

I haven't even gotten halfway through the blog list, and I'm already here. So this is Paris, huh?

I haven't even gotten halfway through the blog list, and I'm inspired. I thought I had it before, but then I remembered what it really felt like. What it really feels like to let go and have your fingers be ignited as your thoughts spill on the computer and you're going way too fast to even think about pressing the backspace button.

Do me a favor, ignore my last post. They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression, but that's a lie because BAM here I am, my second introduction post, and I'm asking you to read this one instead. Scratch that, read both, I'm not ashamed of my first one. My first one was a stepping stone to find what I wanted, what I needed, and I think I might have found it. Only, my Paris isn't Paris at all. My Paris is Athens, my Paris is San Luis Obispo, my Paris is a scene from a movie of a lonely girl at a lunch table people watching and writing.

I know I vowed to not take U turns, but now I'm actually starting the car.

To open up is to be. To fly, to jump, to sink, to sing, to take all the ups and downs, and be okay. To open up is to be healthy. And I'm not talking about the BMI, in your weight range healthy, because I've been sick for too long to care about that healthy anymore. 

So, now I'm serious. Now I'm really not taking U turns. I sure took a nice swerve to the left (or was it to the right?) but I think you hitting me last night helped me realize.

I think the fact that your blog bulged with YOU made me realize.

I think that fact that you might not ever read my blog excites me.

I'm breathing in the air, cigarette smoke and all...

Here I am.

I'm Bad At Titles, Just Know That Now.

(does anyone else feel that the pressure to make this first post good is excruciating?

is it just me?

is it weird that i said that?

i'm almost regretting this whole one-sided conversation we just had.

oh well.)

Hi. I can't tell you my name. Even if I did, you probably wouldn't recognize it, but I'm okay with that. I've gone through two and a half years of high school, and the only thing I've learned is how to be okay with things like that. And really, I'm okay with it.

But I'm not okay with regret. I'm not okay with thinking of what could be. I'm definitely not okay with turning around and crashing under pressure. And, that's why I've pledged to myself that I will no longer be taking any U turns.

I might turn left,

and I might turn right,

but there will be no turning around.

Because I owe it to myself to move forward. I owe it to myself to love me, and keep going. I owe it to myself to fix my mistakes, but not let that lose sight of who I am. I owe it to myself to go straight, because I don't want to turn back to my past, I don't live there anymore. There's a reason it's behind me.

I'm sitting here at my computer deleting half of the things I've written because the clouded memories are becoming more clear. I'm remembering him at the park, and her text messages. I'm remembering my first cell phone, and how long my mom's hair used to be. I'm remembering that day in California when you said I was wrong, and I cried, because I knew I was right. I'm remembering the lies. I'm remembering the truth, but then I remember the lies again and it's like there was no truth. I remember playing Charmed, but I can't remember if I was forced to be Prue, Piper, or Phoebe. I'm remembering the dark. I'm remembering the confusion, I'm remembering the hatred, I'm remembering it all and it's taking everything in me not to shut down the computer, go to sleep, and forget this whole blog.

I put my head down to the keys to let my fingers tell the truth...

Darling, it's okay, there are no U turns in Paris...

Darling, it's okay, there are no U turns in Paris...

Darling, it's okay, there are no U turns in Paris...

Darling, you're okay, you don't have to take any U turns in Paris.

I think I'm ready to press publish now.