What's On Your Sleeve?

Nonchalance is not in my repertoire.
I wish it were.
Oh! To be flippant and free
from the weight of opinions
and desires,
To not be bogged down
By the whys and what ifs
and maybes.
But me,
I wear not just my heart
on my sleeve,
but my head, my mouth, my skin,
as well.
And it's impossible not to care
When left exposed like that.
I want to cut myself open,
Tuck them back inside
And sew it all back up.
But the crooked stitches would show:
The flaws left out
for visual fodder.
How do you do it?
Or am I just blind
To the seams and organs?

okay

sometimes okay should be enough
happiness should be found in the simple
the melody of a song
a beautiful family
a conversation with an old friend.
but at times
life is too much
and knowing it's good
doesn't make it so.
thankfulness is overshadowed
by disappointment
the uphill never peaks.
a longing for
the joy of the downhill run,
carefree and easy.
but feet drag and breath is heavy
and past and future joy
cannot sustain the present.

three

1
He has seen more than I
His height betrays his age
He has watched from his steady home
The ever changing parade of fashions
On this outdoor runway.
He has seen the timid, soft-feathered duckling
become the sleek, assertive duck.
He watched as lovers kissed
and others fought, spouting words of hate.
He has taken part in picnics
and observed teenagers tasting their first drink,
puffing their first cigarette.
Oh, the stories he could tell.
But no one will ever hear.
His is a life of silence,
A life of beauty and strength,
But quiet.
The only sound,
The sigh of a breeze
passing through his leaves.

2
Perfection exists:
in a cold glass of Pimms,
a view of the river,
the dome of St. Pauls.
Making you feel
a little closer to heaven;
the eternal joy of a life enjoyed.
Can I sit here forever
in this moment of bliss,
where I taste the divine?
It blows over me
like a welcome breeze
on a scorching day.

3
Just because I should know better
doesn't mean I do.
I grow tired of the constant battle
between my head and my heart.
I want to dream big
but an exposed heart
is often left raw.
But one sheletered,
is that better?
The possibility of pain is small,
but the chance of joy even smaller.
Shall I take the gamble,
toss the dice,
lay my cards on the table,
or maintain my poker face?
Cause this is an all or nothing situation.
Not sure if I can give it all,
not willing to end up with nothing.

A Park in London on the 4th of July

Ah, the irony. I am in England on the day we Americans celebrate our independence from England. But it was a beautiful day and I spent it in a park with friends. Started at the best farmer's market ever, Broadway Market in East London. Mushroom and cheese sandwich, Vietnamese coffee, and salted caramel Violet cupcake (apparently Stella McCartney, Keira Knightley, and Jamie Oliver are fans). Seriously delicious. Then Mark brought Cara and I red wine. The Europeans get it right here. Good food, wine, and friends, outside on a gorgeous day. There was one 4th of July party going on: American flag hanging, BBQ, "American" attire (consisting of cowboy hats and boots and Red Sox and Mets Tshirts). And they were British. Funny. And some of my musings from the day:

Burst of green overhead
A mosaic of blankets laid every which way
Clouds of gray smoke pouring from BBQs
Tall cans of cold beer
A melting pot of people
Celebrating independence?
Probably not
Far too many British accents for that.
But perhaps freedom.
Freedom from clouds and rain
From work and everyday mundane
A celebration of sun and Saturday and summer
So happy fourth of July
from this American girl
sitting on a London plot of land.

***

Are people more in love in the summer
or does the warmth and sun
force couples out of hiding?
Winter is all wine and fireplaces and
cuddling under old quilts.
In the winter, love is private.
But once the golden rays of sun
streak the brilliant blue skies
People are awakened
from their lovers' hibernation.
Summer, that time of little clothing,
melting ice creams,
the carefree "school's out" feeling,
sweat dripping down the body's covered valleys,
the seductive pull of the ocean, the pool.
And instead of a cuddle under a quilt,
a cuddle on a quilt
surrounded by trees
beckoning lovers to come
lay among them.

I Am Sad

Why, you may ask? How is this possible? I am in the middle of a lovely holiday, seeing breath-taking sights, drinking pints, not a care in the world. But unfortunately, tragedy struck on my last night in Liverpool. I was sitting at the Cavern Club, former musical venue of the Beatles. I went to take a picture of something I found fascinating. And it just didn’t work. The instructions on screen said “Turn camera off then on again.” I followed them, and it still didn’t work. Since that night, I’ve tried everything. Fully charged battery. Check. Change the memory card. Check. Download pictures. Check. Give it a bit of a rest and try again. Check. All efforts were unsuccessful. And now, my one-year old camera is dead, and I have five weeks ahead of me, and one behind, photographically undocumented. It really is a tragedy.

So, since I have no photos to share, I will give “word images” of some highlights.

2:30 am. Hostel hallway in Liverpool. Tousled hair, squinty eyes, pajamas, wallet in hand, asking hostel worker if we have to evacuate due to the fire alarm.

Teeny, tiny, narrow country English, lake-side road. Anna squeezing our car between a stone wall and a tractor. Me gnawing my nails and praying we fit through.

Me seated on a grassy hillside staring out at a postcard-perfect lake surrounded by lush green hills, sheep chewing their green grassy dinner nearby.

A sunny day in Glasgow. Corner coffee shop. Me standing, cell phone in hand, arms straight and stiff at side, uncomfortable look on my face. Strange Scottish man, curly longish hair, hugging me. (Side note: not hot, not rich, not my age, not a missed opportunity. My quote as he hugged me “Oh, ok then.” His reply: “If the sun doesn’t come out today, my day will still be bright because of your smile.” Seriously? Seriously.)

Seated in a booth at Kama Sutra Indian restauarant (Truly. The menu cover had a romantic black and white photo of a couple in an intimate embrace) in Glasgow with Anna and Gerry. Three starters on our table; me taking my first bite of haggis, Indian style. (Scary, but surprisingly tasty. If you don’t know what it is, don’t google it cause you’ll think I’m gross. Although, as Anna said, anything fried and dipped in sauce would taste good.)

Outdoor seating on pedestrian only Rose Street in Edinburgh. A small salad, a glass of white wine, crusty white bread, and a heaping bowl of brothy mussels. Squinting in the bright sun. Tide pen in hand trying to “erase” the soupy mussel mess I got on my white T-shirt.

Seated in an old Edinburgh square surrounded by stone buildings and cobblestone streets. Half pint in hand. Dusk. Male and female actors telling the stories of Scottish literary figures.

Really really hope I can get my camera fixed.

Tomorrow, big tour around day in Edinburgh. xx

Road Bumps

So far, so good. It's been a busy, fun, tiring, exhilirating, relaxing, tasty, frustrating few days. Started off with a delayed plane and a center seat. I was able to change to an aisle (!) and when I boarded the plane, no one was seated next to me on the window(!!). I had two seats, an aisle, and a window all to myself. Awesome. And a word of advice: if you are on a Virgin flight and they ask you your meal choice, don't waiver between chicken or pasta; instead, ask which includes the rich, chocolatey, fudgy brownie. Trust me, you will thank me later.

After a well-slept flight (thanks to Ambien and Lisa), I rushed off the plane. I got a bit of the 9th degree at customs (How are you paying for your trip? Umm...my salary?, Schools in the US are on summer holidays? What...yes. Why does customs always make me nervous?). Eventually, I made it through, got my luggage, and met Anna. Because of my delayed plane, we rushed to the bus station and stepped on the bus literally a minute before he closed the door and drove off! Phew!

Made it to Bath. Had a lovely meal at a lovely restaurant. Except I got fish. It was a very bony fish. Needless to say, eating it was a bit of a task. Next day, Anna and I went on a FREE 2 hour tour. Informative, fun, great overview of Bath. Ate at Jamie's Italian. Anyone who knows me knows who Jamie is. They had carbonara on the menu. Pff...I make that! Did eat the best antipasto plate ever-mozzarella, mortadella, salami, olives. And truffle pasta. I swear, Jamie can do no wrong. The early evening was spent soaking in the rooftop baths, and the underground baths, and sweating in the steam rooms. However, there were these 18 year olds making out the whole time. I saw the boys tongue twice. And I was trying hard to avoid seeing them. Gross. Ended the day with pints and crisps at The Pig and Fiddle, outdoor at picnic tables. If I lived in Bath, this would be my spot. Truly ended the day with chips with cheese from a "taco truck" style auto (except they don't serve tacos, mainly just burgers). Anna and I like to call out "-Insert current city of residence- Kogi" every time we see one.

Ran around Bath the next morning. Most of today was spent in the car. Anna drove, and she has been a quick learner. I clap every time we make it through a round about. However, our two hour trip took about five. Two of those extra hours were spent driving around Oxford. Oxford loves bikes. Oxford likes pedestrians. Oxford hates cars. HATES. Streets are not labeled. And even if they were, they change names after one or two blocks. If you are lucky, they continue beyond one block. Because streets in Oxford like to dead end or close to only pedestrians or bikes. I thought finding a hotel in the city centre was a good idea. It is now we're here. Not so much getting here. Oxford will punish you for having a car. Not only in the form of confusing streets, but financially as well. It cost 22 pounds to park our car somewhat near our hotel. Thank you Oxford. I must say, though, Anna is a star. She has the best attitude ever. I get stressed and try to stay calm, but usually fail miserably. Anna is a rock. A positive rock.

Our hotel is adorable, our room like a little cottage. We saw the "quarter boys" that ding the bell every fifteen minutes on a clock tower. We saw the place where Bloody Mary burned martyrs at the stake. We drank and ate at The Eagle and Child where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien used to hang. We walked and then negated any good that did by eating tasty, creamy homemade ice cream (I told Anna, only eat ice cream from places with a line...this line went out the door). And the sunset was beautiful.

Sorry this reads a bit like a list. I promise once I get to London my prose will be more polished. Or maybe as my trip goes on I'll be more concise. Loads of love to all.

only time will tell

So I stumbled across this comic online at xkcd.com. There's some great stuff on the site if you have a few minutes to kill, but this one stuck out to me as super appropriate to the crazy world of dating and relationships.