Matching Socks

We were walking near her house, and it was cold so I had my fists jammed in my pockets. She sent daughter back to her house to get me a pair of gloves. The kind of thing she does all the time. I don't even think she thinks to do it. Her kindnesses are automatic. Tonight, I asked my sister why she fell in love with her second husband. She said, "Because I've taken care of people all my life, and he took care of me." I said, "Well, I knew he was the one for you when the two of you wore those dreadful matching socks last Christmas." She laughed. I suppose I could say the woman I'm seeing matches me, that I feel matched. I could be more prosaic and say, "She suits me." I don't have a word. I turned around and there she was.

Opening the Door

She's coming on Saturday. I sense we'll have chemistry unless she has a yen for polyester and unfortunate facial tics. Even then. I plan to say a few words about my past and present, mostly my present. I have rehearsed them. My lines are down, simple yet elegant. Of course, dry mouth could happen. I could lose my voice. I could lose her. In our first conversation, she said, "Face your fear." She didn't know how much fear I have. How I have had to talk myself into trying again with someone. To opening the door.

She Calls Me

She called me the same night I called her. I was still awake. "Hey," she said. I said, "It's 1:30 in the morning." "I know," she said, "I thought you might be worried about those calls." "Well, I'm just not good on the phone," I said (not true). She laughed. "It's okay." We talked for two hours. She told me later she saved the calls and listened to them over and over because she found me so "endearing."

I Call Her

Made a fairly spazzy call to a woman. Sentences that trailed off, nervous laughter, phrases that could be misinterpreted. Insecure about my first call, I made a second. Described myself as "an idiot" and "desperate" and "strange." Called a friend in a panic. Pacing. Swearing. "She'll probably think you're endearing, " he said. He was really nice to me about it. I could not listen to him be nice to me about it. Signed off and hung up. Realized how afraid I am. That she might still be interested. Which seems unlikely.

Mid-place

My friend, Rosa, helped me revise a poem and then sent me this lovely response to the revision. "You brought it where the heart is and where the soul can rest."

Tina Fey's Eyebrows

My friend Sara says the characters in the TV shows she loves are her "parasocial relationships." I guess I have one with Tina Fey, but more of a parasocial infatuation. I recently did a speech for my Toastmasters group entitled: Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from Tina Fey. I was serious. I'd like to spend the night with her drinking drip coffee in an all night diner just to hear her talk. Hear her say things like what she told an interviewer from Esquire about her love life in high school. "I don't think we should discount the fact that unplucked eyebrows and short hair with a perm may not have been the best offering."

Harold Thurman Whitman

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive and do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

Leaf Men

Woke up to the sun flooding through my windows. Actually felt happy and snuggly with none of my Monday morning job search angst. Until just now. Read a children's book last week featuring a squad of little green men (The Leaf Men) who lived in the garden. When the doodle bugs are confronted by the evil spider queen, they cry out, "Leaf Men! We are in need!" The Leaf Men came and protected the doodles--saved the day. I want Leaf Men.

Gopher Issues

A friend of mine says his issues are like that gopher game at the arcade. Everytime he slams one issue (gopher) down, another pops up. I told my therapist about it yesterday. "My gophers are winning." She laughed.

Loose Tooth Anxieties

"Cultivate a calm awareness and acceptance of the show" (Stephen Levine). The show. The things I get so wrapped up in. Last night went to see a delightful play, Blind Spot. During the entire first half, could feel the anxiety in me. Laughter all around, and I couldn't quite join in. Worried my lack of laughter like a loose tooth. Suddenly, in the third act, the play captured me, the plot and props so imaginative I surrendered myself, my loose tooth anxieties, to the adventure on stage. Why I love theatre. Plays dream me back to life.

Great Word

PREDILECTION: A predisposition to favor someone or something in particular (from the Latin, prediligere, to prefer, and diligere, to love.)

Too Small

"Instead we touch on the strength of the open heart which has room for it all" (Stephen Levine). My problem right now is my heart is about the size of a matchbox.

Luck Stays with Me

Read last night at an open mic at Richard Hugo House. Forgot to put a stick of gum in my jean's pocket in case of dry mouth. Big mistake. Made it through the first page and then felt the unmistakable. Knew it would only get worse. It did. Prayed to the Goddess of Side Effects that my lips would not begin sticking to my teeth. She answered my prayer. Still. Amazing what dry mouth will do to a writer's on-stage persona. Like talking through cotton. Grim. Luckily, my story was grim.

Dust-Bunny Farmers

Excerpt from an intriguing review for Blind Spot at the Annex Theatre: "Young Kirsty Vanderkamp [distracts] herself from the unbearable reality of her parents' separation by shrinking herself to the size of a match head to explore her home [...]. Pretending to be an intrepid journalist [...], Kirsty is able to spend time interviewing a family of dust-bunny farmers who live in the vast expanse under her bed, the effete folks who live high above in the china cabinet [...] and the freedom fighters who live in the drainpipes." (Kevin Phinney)