The Prettiest Blue Ever.

Tomorrow Susan over at West Coast Crafty is going to post my craft piece that was on SFist. Regardless of my piece, you should go over and check her blog out, she's one of my favorite crafty blog writers.

Also I'm totally taken with this brand new color of duct tape I got recently. It's this lovely shade of blue and I can't stand how good every color looks with it. I'm sort of obsessing over it with pink and white right now, how juicy is this blue?

NPR craft competition.

A great way to combine all that time you spent reading celebrity gossip blogs this year and your crafting skills. Check it out: NPR craft competition.

good books for cold weather.

In between crafting and working I'm managing to read a book I'm pretty into right now, Melissa Bank's new one called The Wonder Spot. It's not earth shattering, but the prose are pretty easy to sink into and she walks a good line between chick lit (god I hate that phrase, but it sort of fits here) and literary fiction. My mind is circling around one line I can't seem to get out of my head since I read it last night, "I went all the way from hating to liking her, and the distance made me feel like I loved her." Maybe that line's sort of stuck with me because it reminds me of my ex and how two days ago I was cursing his name and feeling an utter hatred for him to yesterday when we had this really sweet and pleasant conversation and it reminded me just how much I loved him. Either way, the line sort of appeals to the fiery Italian in me, we go to extremes with people, and when we make that effort, from wringing our hands in frustration to showering you with words of adoration, it just means we love you.

It's cold here in SF, dipping into the 40's and I'm glad I have a good book to read.


what i did this week-end besides eat and drink.

My first fair is this saturday night at the Mezzanine.

I'm not much of a purple person but this sea horse wallet is one of my faves.

Little owl card holder.

Big owl.

craft away.

Below is something I wrote for SFist. Since it took me so long to add all the links and it has some good info for craft shopping if you're in SF, I thought I'd post it here as well. I have to write in the third person for SFist, and even though I think that can be a drag, I'm not changing it back to first person here. It's starting to be that crazy time of year for me again, where I'm frantically making stuff for all the holiday fairs I'm doing, so consider this the official beginning of my crafting madness. I'll post some pics up soon.
***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
We're just as taken with the shiny new mall downtown as you are, but once you're inside it you may as well be in Wayne, New Jersey. Charm your friends and family this holiday season with some gifts you can only get in our lovely city, and rest easy knowing that you're helping local businesses and crafters thrive. Don't know all the local talent San Francisco has to offer, or where to shop for it? We're here for you. Below you'll find a list of some of the craft fairs happening in the bay area this December. Because when it comes down to it, wouldn't you rather do your shopping in a bar, with a drink in hand? We know we would. So avoid long lines for the new Tickle Me Elmo (did they really need to make another one of those?), fluorescent lighting, and those scary make-up ladies trying to push perfume and eighty dollar blush on you. To help get your list started we asked a couple of our favorite local designers what they want this year. So read on and give your Aunt Eunice something she can't buy at the mall in Indiana. You can thank us later.

Jenn D'angelo, creator and designer of Noo Works clothing line, and the woman behind the fabulous Fasionfest at 12 Galaxies, tells us what's on her list: "What would I like to receive? A cute pajama panty set from Boi.oi.oing, a big chunky medallion necklace from Cast of Characters, she makes a lot of stuff from found jewelry so it's always random and cool, a beer holster from Brew Holster Cult, even though I already have one, and one of my cutie heart sweatshirts, zip up." If you plan on charming Jen this year, you'll be able to get her everything she wants at the 12 Galaxies Fashionfest on December 10th from 12-5pm. By transforming your favorite local watering hole into a craft emporium it can't really get any easier for you. Where else can you eat breakfast, nurse your hangover, and shop?

We're stealing some ideas from Jill Bliss, local designer and founder of Blissen, this year. As a local artist with her own line of stationery products available from Chronicle Books and a crafter extraordinaire, we wish we were on the receiving end of Jill's shopping list. But we've jotted down what she wants and we may end getting some of this stuff for ourselves: "Lotta Jansdotter's Smyka bag, Lotta moved away while I was temporarily relocated in So Cal, but now I'm back and missing my Lotta fix! Nooworks' black forest collection, the hearts patterned sweatshirt, actually I couldn't wait for someone to buy this for me I ordered one the other week! Cara Lyndon's, vintage earrings, I keep seeing Cara's earrings in various shops and wishing my ears were pierced! If someone bought me a collection of hers, especially any of the dangling ones with the ear threads, I'd be forced to get out a needle and ice. A Minor Thread, perfect pink tote, I'm a sucker for totes. I'm surprised I haven't bought this one yet. And finally, Lisa Congdon's mod bird, I never got one of these a few years ago when Lisa began making these, which i regret."

Here's a list of some craft fairs to get you started. We know there are a lot out there, so feel free to let us know about others in the comments section.

12/1-12/3 Maven: Urban Design + Craft Fair Fri. 5-9pm, Sat & Sun 11am-6pm 1700 Dwight Way in Berkeley
12/2 Chillin’ 8pm-2am at the Mezzanine 444 Jesse Street in SF
12/7 Appel & Frank 5pm-9:30pm at The Regency Center 1270 Sutter Street @ Van Ness in SF
12/9 Twelve Designs Trunk show 11am-5pm at Levy Art & Architecture, 3361 Mission Street @ 29th in SF
12/9 Root Division 6pm-10pm Holiday Art Sale 3175 17th Street in SF
12/10 December Fashionfest 12pm-5pm at 12 Galaxies 2565 Mission Street @ 22nd in SF
12/14 Feria Urbana 6pm-11pm at The Canvas Gallery 1200 9th Ave @ Lincoln in SF
12/16 Holidayland Gift Sale 1pm-7pm at Blank Space 6608 San Pablo in Oakland
12/16 & 12/17 Gifty Holiday Art Sale 10am-4pm at The Crucible 1260 7th Street in Oakland


I want snow.

I just talked to my friend in Seattle, he said it's been snowing for hours. It's 34 degrees and sticking! I miss winter snow storms. He didn't seem happy, saying it's only supposed to snow once a year in Seattle and that usually happens in January or February. He says global warming is the problem, and while I'm just as concerned as he is, I say go out and play in the snow.


sorry, sort of.

I felt kind of bad after I wrote my last post. I started thinking about all the vegans in my life that I admire. I mean, one of my favorite vegan friends kept me company tonight while I cooked food for tomorrow. She casually sipped her wine while I scooped out buckets full of sour cream and cream cheese for an onion dip from scratch and she wished she could try the tomato fennel gratin and green beans with crispy shallots. Also after I left work, I went to Rainbow Grocery, the best organic/health food/co-op grocery store in San Francisco. At Rainbow I ran into another magnificent hard-core vegan, an ex's sister. She's fantastic and interesting and every time I run into her I think about how I should have just married into that family. Oh well. Anyway, all this to say that I guess some days what drives me fucking crazy about this city is also what I love most about it. I mean it's a town full of people with some of the most out-landish (compared to status quo) ideals on the planet, but they stick to their convictions. Forming groups and clogging the streets with protests. And really, that's what shifts the paradigm at the end of the day. But still, I think you're fucking stupid if you boycott Thanksgiving dinner because someone is cooking a turkey. I'm sticking to that.


Just be happy you were invited.

Only in San Francisco will you hear a story of someone boycotting Thanksgiving dinner because a turkey is being cooked. Seriously. I got word of this from a friend today, to protect the innocent I won’t name names. But this friend, we’ll call him John, decided to have Thanksgiving at his house this year. John invites a ton of people over, mostly vegetarians, but turns out there are a few folks coming who eat meat and would love a real turkey. Imagine that--a real turkey on Thanksgiving Day. So John decides to cook one up, despite that fact that he’ll probably eat the Tofurkey, he’s a good host that John, really accommodating. Well someone’s feelings got hurt, it turns out one of the friends of the people who asked for a real turkey in the first place is vegan. Once he caught wind of a real bird being cooked he decided to boycott John’s Thanksgiving Day meal. If you ask me they’re all probably better off with out the vegan there anyway. Some vegans take themselves a little too seriously. Especially the real preachy ones, it hasn’t happened in a while, but when I worked at a non-profit I came across a lot more of them. When they go on and on about how much better they are then you for not using any animal products I want to just rip their leather shoes off and stick some rotting pork in their mouths. To be clear, I heart many vegans, but I like the ones who can watch their boyfriend eat a double beef burrito and laugh when he says he might have to throw up. I don’t know any vegans who would boycott a meal at my house because I chose to cook meat, especially on Thanksgiving Day. My mom made a Turducken two years ago on Christmas day when I was a vegetarian. Did I cry? No, because we don’t do that where I’m from. Back on the east coast you suck it up and sit at the table with carnivores. I love this city. But only here will you hear about a vegan boycotting a thanksgiving meal because a turkey was being cooked.

winter in San Francisco

We may not have snow here, but we do have giant pine cones.


fancy office speak.

I guess everyone has already seen this, but it's new to me. And I can't even believe how perfect it is. From the backs of the balding men to the intensity of the dude singing. Wow. And when this stops being funny to you, go over to you tube and watch David Cross doing a parody of it. Consider this another addition to all the office speak posts.

Thanks for sending this link Jean, it made my day.


a thanksgiving dildo.

This year Nekoda will cook up a storm again, hopefully making my favorite roasted root veggies with rosemary & thyme. And Chip will no doubt bake up his Kentucky sweet potato pie. There will be a tofurkey, which I will happily devour, despite the fact that I am a card carrying meat eater once again. We will drink endless wine and probably bourbon, and maybe when we all get full enough and drunk enough we'll run around in the park. I will roll home.
Last year I was at the farm. It was the first year I've ever lived in San Francisco that I spent away from my friends. I blame it on a bad boyfriend. The farm was nice, I think it rained. We built a fire in a make shift fire pit outside. It was a hippy Thanksgiving that could have only happened in California. From the wacky old dead head to Jon, my boyfriends best friend, handing me a giant glass dildo he had blown just for me during dinner. If everyone wasn't so stoned I would have blushed even more. And not like you need to know, but it's been just about a year, and I've never put it in me. The thing is so long and thick I'm scared it will dismember something inside of me. After Jon handed me the dildo, reaching across the yams and cranberries, he said "I expect a full report." No one even batted an eye and I thought then of my mother and what she would say if I told her someone gave me a hand blown glass dildo during Thanksgiving dinner. God bless this state, and how far it is from Jersey.
Everytime I open my sock drawer that dildo bangs around, but I don't know where else to put it. I imagine a future lover finding it years from now, "Wow, what do you do with this?" He wouldn't believe me that I've been too scared to use it, or that someone gave it to me as a gift on Thanksgiving day. Or worse, he'd insist we try it out.
I should get rid of that thing. Drop it off at Good Will or sell it on ebay. I'm sure someone would love it. Can you regift a dildo? Is that wrong?



It's Sunday, Jack says you should take a nap.


Another review.

This time I reviewed Beach House for SFist.com, check it out.
Beach House Review


more fun with work words.

Since a lot of you probably won't see the comment Jean just left on my office speak post, I figured I should post it here. Because it's really fucking great. Feel free to comment with more. You know you can make a bingo board with the words & phrases filled in instead of numbers and discretely play with your favorite co-workers during meetings. Not like I would ever do that at my job. Onto Jean's list:

here are my favorites (despite the sports metaphors, my department is all women). keep in mind this is only a partial list:

full court press
rolled up
tap in
place hold
radar screen
low hanging fruit
loop in
flesh out
pan for nuggets
tough nut to crack
dragon to slay
still has legs
cross pollination
on top of that speed bump
lots to tackle


I'm on Sfist!

Check it out! I have a review on Sfist today.
Southern hospitality, Mission style



This week-end I had the treat of meeting and dining with the owner of Love at First Bite, a sweet little cupcakery and bakery in Berkeley. My friend Julie, who moved here from Whidbey Island with the owner Pat, to start this little business, was familiar with my duct tape wares and she wanted to discuss selling some in the shop. Love at First Bite is a small little bakery, packed with some of the cutest stationery and trinkets I've seen under one roof in a while. I wanted to touch everything. Especially the mini mini cupcakes, that I wish I had taken a picture of to show you. They are bite size and adorable. I mean if you can't get happy around a bunch of cupcakes something's not right with you. We ate at Cesars around the corner and it was good, nice and empty when we got there and overflowing with people by the time we left. Lots of great tapas, including this anchovy dish with the fish just sliced down the middle and laid flat on some flavored mayo and toast. I was a little afraid to try it, but other than the slime factor it was tasty. But you don't want to hear about anchovies when I have cupcakes to talk about. One of my favorite things about Love at First Bite are the names and flavors of their cupcakes; Monkey Love, Pretty in Pink, Pumpkin Bliss. Yum, the names alone make me hungry. There has been quite a cupcake craze going on lately and I'm glad these ladies are catching the wave of it. Good news was they loved how the wallets came out (I have to say I think they look pretty good myself) and so they'll be selling them alongside all the other adorable things in the place. Below are some pics for your viewing pleasure. And since my last post was so fraught with drama and bitterness it only feels right to post some happy pictures. There's a whole slew of cupcake blogs out there but my favorite is All Cupcakes, All the Time it makes me squeal almost as much as Cute Overload. Enjoy! And go eat a cupcake.

Julie, happy with the card holder I gave her.

The inside of Love at First Bite.

A close up of one of the samples I made for the store (and later gave to Julie). I made the cupcake out of oragami paper, but I'm going to try some others with felt too.

A blurry picture of another wallet.


a bad idea.

I don't really know what made me think it was a good idea to call up a bartender at two in the morning and give him my number, telling him I thought we should "hang out sometime". Not to mention that this particular bartender was 18 years sober and had told me that he doesn't date girls that drink anymore. Sure, he would totally be into hanging out with a wasted girl he had been serving drinks to all night. Forget that he worked at my neighborhood bar, where I briefly worked, and drink often. Forget all that. I was under the influence of my friends that night and they were certain he was hitting on me. And after he followed me out of the bar, I was convinced they were right. But when he followed me out of the bar he didn't really have anything to say, he just kind of looked at me and asked me why I left the bar without saying goodbye. "Well you were talking to a customer" I told him, but what I was thinking was, how come you followed me out of the bar and you aren't making out with me now? It was confusing. And when I met back up with my friends they yelled at me and told me how badly I had blown it. So when I got home that night, more than a little tipsy and still hearing my friends chastising me, well I thought how I would be really flattered if i was bartending and some guy I had thought was cute got home all drunk and late and decided it to call the bar he was just at to give the cute bartender there his number. I would be totally crushed out. Maybe. It seemed to go well enough, I mean, really, I can't honestly tell you how the conversation went cause I was sort of too drunk to remember. But I did give him my number, I know that and I can only hope I wasn't so wasted I gave him the wrong number. I might have done that. Either way it's been two weeks and he hasn't called. And I did tell him I would vist again on the day he worked and I haven't yet. Mostly because I'm assumming that if he wanted to hang out with me he would have called me. And I think that's sort of a fair assumption, but you see, this is my neighborhood bar and I'm sort of bummed I've felt too akward to go back. So Dave and I are on our way there now. Wish me luck.
** update **
On my home tonight, Derek called from New York. Years ago, Derek was just as in love with SF as I am now, but he told me that once you're in NYC you don't even think about SF. And I seriously started thinking about moving there. Not just because I'm tired of certain things here in SF. You know, I have a lot of people I love there, including my family and it's New York. But then there are so many reasons I've been staying away. Bartender guy, not as cute the second time around. I still didn't have to pay for any drinks and he was sweet and all but tonight he told me he's going to quit bartending and go to Cosmotology school. I'm not kidding. He wants to cut hair. Oh he's not gay, he's just a straight man in San Francisco. And at one point in the night he farted really loud and sort of giggled after he did it. That's funny and all, but not so hot. Maybe I'll get a haircut from him in a year, but that's as close as I think we'll ever get. God, New York sounds good to me now.

a note to myself.

Read what you write, read it and absorb it and take it all in and listen. Alcohol is not your friend. Remember that. Remember you will not like yourself the next day. You will wake up with a shame over all over from feet to scalp and you will frantically call all of the people you offended the night before. Apologize; say it was your evil friend the drink that made you do it, made you too honest in those places where silence would have been just fine. The page is a safe place to be, so visit often. Fill it with words and dots and read them to yourself out loud, shouting, whispering. Memorize the rhythms of your voice and get that down on paper. Sometimes maybe you should do this instead of leaving the house. Sometimes maybe you shouldn't even think of leaving your room. Get blank paper, computer, pen, and fill it, fill it with words big and small, abstract, ordered, just remember you need to do this. The page will not hate you in the morning because of something you told it last night. Trust me. Remember this, you can stay home some nights, in fact you should. Turn off the TV, the radio, don't even play music. Write it down. Write it and read it and memorize it and then write it some more. Do this often.



i watched as they poured the batter
both of them looking eagerly on
as if there were a child
being born in that pan
they knew the exact moment to drop the berries
onto that creamy white oval

i watched from the doorway

but i wanted to eat what they have
i wanted the sticky maple love they share

i want to tell you about these pancakes
i want to tell you about the perfectness of them
i want to tell you in as few words as i can
and i want you to get it

but you are always talking about the history of us
you say,
we can not make pancakes together, not on a sunday morning,
we have too much history
but we have no history
no one has diligently written down the details of us
no one has questioned,
no one will be reading the story of our love in high school
history classes decades from now
you and i,
we do not matter enough to make history together

we are more like a fox news report at 2 in the morning
the only viewers passed out and farting

you throw the word around like a toy
like something easily acquired

i have no history with you

maybe years down the line when we are fatter and uglier
maybe then

when we can recall the time we burnt a chair in the road
when we can laugh about drinking sangria
and almost killing ourselves on the drive home

when i can explain the simple fact of a pancake
and you can shut up long enough to understand


With the Dems now in control of the House, the Senate still to be called and a woman from SF as the Speaker of the House, this is how i'm feeling...

Thanks for the lovely photo Molly!!

not like it means anything.

San Francisco
Proposition J, Call for Bush/Cheney Impeachment
Yes   90,937 59.4% 
No   62,036  40.6% 
99% of precincts reporting
Updated 11/07 11:41PM


It happened!!!

Britney finally dumped that dip shit husband of hers. I mean this is huge huge news. I love how she waited until she got all skinny and attractive again before she filed for divorce, maybe she's not as dumb as we all thought. This is huge... Just kidding. I don't even think I can carry on the joke. The democrats took control of the House of Representatives! And this is all proving to me that I'm nowhere near as jaded as I thought, 'cause the whole thing kind of makes my heart flutter a little. I know that even if the Dems take the Senate too (and right now they need three votes) the President will veto everything. Really, either way there will be complete gridlock. But I don't give a shit, for the first time ever we have a woman as the Speaker of the House and she's from my fucking city. Bring those San Francisco values to the House, Nancy.



About a month ago I woke up in a panic. I was certain it was Election Day and I was totally unprepared, about the only thing I was certain of was that I was going to be voting for Chris Daly as my supervisor again. I called my boss on my way to the polling station and left a message saying that I forgot it was Election Day and I was going to be late. I saw a cute guy walking around the corner with a dog, I thought, "Aww, cute voting guy, I'll smile at him because I bet he just voted." But I got to my polling station and the doors were shut, there was no sign in front of the building written in marker which said 'Polling Station! Vote here!' I was confused. Then I realized it was a Thursday. Then I realized that the election was in November. I unnecessarily called my boss back and left a message saying I was wrong, it wasn't election day and I would be there on time. The whole thing sort of made me feel a little shameful about how uninvolved I was in politics these days. For a good ten minutes I genuinely became nostalgic for the non-profit I used to work at, where it was part of our job to be well-informed citizens with opinions on issues, especially around election time. I don't miss the busted bathrooms and having to manage grown-ups that acted like children, but I do miss the political atmosphere of that place. I miss how inspired I was by people who volunteered hours and hours of their time just to sit in a phone bank and call apathetic voters who were pissed off you would even think of interrupting their favorite TV show, all in the hopes of reaching one person who would actually listen and place a more informed vote.

A few days ago I saw an article about a ballot measure in Arizona which will determine whether or not Arizona voters would essenitally recieve a lottery ticket just for showing up at the polls. If the measure passes (and you want to place bets it won't?) one lucky voter in Arizona will win one million dollars for voting. I don't even think I'm able to comprehend just how many layers of wrong this is. There are people who will be voting just to get a fucking lottery ticket. The state is essentially bribing people to get off their fat asses and vote on issues that effect their lives, their children’s lives and the rest of the world. Damn America, that's sad. Not to get all preachy and on my soap box (I sort of already have, huh?) but it’s our civic duty to vote, and it's really a sorry state of affairs when we need to come up with cute ways to convince citizens to go to the polls. If the chance of winning one million dollars is what's bringing someone to the polls, you think they're going to place well informed votes?

Also, something else that should get you riled up, if you're a woman, you haven't even had the right to vote for 100 years yet. The 19th amendment, which prohibited both the federal government and the states from using a person's sex as a qualification to vote, was passed in 1920. And something far more disturbing, if you're a person of color, you didn't recieve the right to vote until 1964 when Universal Suffrage was passed all over the US. Universal suffrage gave the right to vote to everyone, regardless of race, sex, belief, or economic or social status, and the South didn't pass this until 1964. 1964.

All this to say that tomorrow is Election Day. Vote. Please. If you're in SF Blue Space will be holding an election night viewing. Oh and one last thing, that completely epitomizes why I love living in San Francisco, tomorrow, on the ballot, we will actually be voting on the Impeachment of Bush and Cheney, it's proposition J and you can bet your ass I'm voting yes.


i am not addicted to my phone.

I'll be a better blogger this week. I promise. But it's been a long weekend and I lost my phone. Out of the 100 or so numbers I had in there I had one committed to memory, make that two. It sort of terrifies me how attached I've become to that little piece of technology, but it makes my life easier and I liked my razor phone damn it. In the hopes that it will magically appear, I think I'm going to hold off on buying a new one, and I sort of look forward to the next few days without a phone. I say that now, by tomorrow night I'll probably be having a panic attack.

Molly’s art show was this weekend and it was fantastic. There's nothing like being in an entire room full of her creations. You can make an appointment to see her art, which will be hanging all month, so if you're in SF just get in touch with the gallery.

If you haven't seen I Am A Sex Addict yet, I highly recommend it. JJ and I watched it today and I think it's one of the most upfront, palatable movies about addiction I've seen. Caveh Zahedi manages to be funny, introspective and gut wrenchingly honest while telling the story of his addiction through the relationships he's had in his life. At times he reminded me a little of Woody Allen. I'm really looking forward to seeing Volver, I'm a big fan of Pedro Almodóvar, and this one looks good.


give me some country.

seriously. i'm not trying to be cute here. give it to me. even Jersey country, 4 acres of litter and evergreens and daffodils, I'll fucking take it. The gunshots sounded like a toy to me tonight and that's sort of not OK. Everyone got up from the bar and ran outside. It was four shots at some truck that was driving by- no one got hit, but is that an OK consolation prize? Josh just got back from visiting NYC, and he's young and was acting all hard saying SF violence is nothing like NYC violence. I sort of wanted to punch him when he said that. Violence is violence and it doesn't matter which coast you're on. Seriously. Give me a house in the mid-west with Gillian Welch playing in the back round and a tornado on the way. I'll wear overalls.

some more advice.

Unless you want to receive a message that says:
all up in my business...damn girl.
Do not, while having drinks with your ex-boyfriends best friend, drunkenly mention that you may not be as over your ex as you thought you were and continue to probe about who he is currently seeing. Twenty bucks says it will get back to your ex. If I didn't have the memory of my ex calling me two months ago, crying, apologizing for cheating, and begging me to give our relationship "another shot", I'd probably feel a lot shitter right now. But I have a feeling that one will be my trump card for a while. (and i am completely aware of how emotionally immature this is.)



This is old, I am not 'almost 30', I am 30. My break-up can no longer be called recent, well, depending on how you classify certain things. But I got nothing right now. I'm tired from two late nights in a row and I want to sit on the couch and try to get into Top Chef. If that bartender that followed me out of the bar Monday night actually calls, maybe I'll have a good story for you soon. But here's this for now.
.................. .......................... .......................... ........................ ...................
We are sitting at the bar, you don’t need to know what time it is, but I will tell you it is too late and at this hour we should both be home, or making out with each other in a car. But we aren’t, we’re talking about our respective recent break-ups. There is a fire going behind him and the table is long and rectangle and I won’t finish this beer I’m sipping on but I’ll do my best, because it’s well past closing time and the bartender didn’t have to pour us these drinks.
He is saying how he feels like something died in him this time, how he’s mourning this great big loss in his life, even though he knew it had to end. I feel so much more pragmatic in talking about my break-up, and it takes him off guard. He looks at me and I know he’s wondering where my emotions are.
I’ve been wondering the same thing lately.
Things are different in me.
For one, I’m eating bacon. Thick, fried, slabs cut off the side of some cute little soft rolly polly pig. I think about it every time I take a bite, and I don’t flinch one bit. I ask for seconds. I order BLTs. For Christmas this year we cooked a chicken, an entire chicken, in my oven. I could taste the death in every bite. Dead bird. I love birds. But now I want BBQ chicken and Club Sandwiches and Cobb salads.
Something has finally shifted in me. I attribute it to almost living thirty years. I’m not as fresh faced and doe eyed as I used to be, I know now that we will never utilize the earths surface to its fullest potential, that me not eating chicken won’t change a god damn thing. I need protein and I’m too tired to fight small battles. I’m hanging up my activist cape and savoring the sweet smell of frying bacon.
We are back at the bar. You don’t need to know who I’m sitting with, but I will tell you he is about my age and as the night gets later my urge to kiss him is growing. I don’t want him to think I’m insensitive so I say, “Don’t you feel like you’re getting more jaded as you get older?” He looks at me a little shocked, “No way, he mutters, I’m getting softer.” I want to tell him that sometimes you need to start building walls around you’re heart and when you don’t do it fast enough the lining of that vital organ starts to weaken.
I want to tell him about my brother again.
About his wife and 1 year old boy and how he’s used up all his happy endings. You only get so many in a lifetime, and I think he’s even stolen a few of someone elses. It goes like this, relapse, use, detox, sober, relapse, use. Maybe live on the street for a while, maybe sleep with prostitutes, maybe be a prostitute, depending on your money situation at the time. If you have a home and a wife and a kid and a decent job, you’ll sleep with crack whores. If the money’s tight and you can’t even get a cash advance, then you’ll whore yourself out for your next high. And you go and go and go until the money runs out or the family finds out and someone comes and saves you. My brother doesn’t deserve to be saved anymore. Because someone has always saved him. Someone has always dropped everything, gotten on a plane and bailed his sorry ass out.
I can feel the bartender behind us getting restless, kicking the other drunks out, before we leave I want to tell him, sitting across from me, his glass almost empty, I want to tell him that before 15 years of this I was softer. But I can’t afford to be anymore. Something tells me he won’t understand. I barely get it myself.
We finally get kicked out of the bar and we walk to my house just a block away. He is full of good stories and I wonder if he knows how much of a sucker I am for good stories. I want to hold on to him, I want to keep him in my life, because the longer we sit here, on my couch, my eyes starting to close, begging sleep, the longer we sit here, the softer I feel. And maybe I can tell you why I can’t afford to be soft anymore but I can also tell you that I can’t carry these bricks in my chest forever. And maybe if I reach across the couch right now and kiss him, maybe one day we’ll be talking about turkey dinners and we’ll wake up to one another frying bacon in our small kitchen with yellow curtains and too much sun.