a diary of what i love and what i do

Sunday, November 27, 2011

I am kitten. Hear me roar.

thank you
that the lioness and the panther can be in the same place at the same time and just be
when i can live in no better than no less than
that i write lists and he plays games
to make a decision to be in this 100 percent 
that the feelings of commitment don't come until i commit
to be what it is that i want to receive
that i still get moved by the message in meetings
that i still get tickled by the love in meetings
for giggle attacks
for days i manage not to fit my feet in shoes too small
for days i do things in two's
a growly hungry tummy
the bulk section at whole foods 
making it just in time
that at different times in my life some tools are used more than others
like paying attention so i don't take anything or anyone for granted
and pausing so i don't let my fears ruin everything
for the lines god gives me sometimes
inapropiate and embarassing, but mine.
to pray to something that really exists
and to live in a solution that really works
that a little piece of gossip was dangled in my face and i took a big whopping bite out of it
for the consequences of that
to get sidetracked and then recommit
for funny dorky laughs
the color yellow
christmas nails
a little bear pin to make a little banana happy
the smell of saliva 
for the anus
and the dahli lama
that god is everything or nothing
that when i stopped putting my hand out, we started to get along
that when i started telling the truth, we started to get along
overhearing other people's conversations and practicing acceptance 
for custom made prayers :
god, can't wait to see what you do with my life, my money, my sobriety, my relationships, my job, my school because it's all yours anyway.
for regular life
a clothes crisis
the 45 minute search for parking
sleeping in and running late
loud commercials
a puffy eye
the niners losing a game
that sometimes you have to wait in the line for the bathroom for a long time and the person before you took a major stinky dump
for regular life
i love it here.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

relieve me from the bondage of self

thank you

for the black keys
for comfort in a sometimes crazy world
sweat pants
'don't notice me too much' black
macaroni and cheese
joni mitchell
watching my program come out and shine through in unfamiliar places
slowing down in the holiday craze while everyone speeds up, missing the whole experience
for friendly helpful people at whole foods
a compliment from a 70 year old woman who wore colorful silk scarves and silver jewelry
to play wifey minus the meaning and just trying the role on for size, like a jacket.
to make decisions together
to sit on it for a second
to find other ways to speak god without saying god but the message being the same
to get use to this "my boyfriend"
to get use to speaking in meetings without the nod and mm hmm in my peripheral
for a bottom lip i could bath in
a body i could melt into
someone i could watch just do stuff all fucking day
insides matching outsides
that he wrote on his hand exactly what i was thinking
for cheap red nail polish
to speak enough tagalog to make an impression
that not all my hustling skills have gone to waste
tired cold feet
one singular white hair glistening in the sea of my brunette mane
for chia seeds in my purple drank
adorable mom and pop meat shops
for that fuck yeah feeling.
to walk into a space and just know
to walk with someone and just know
an instinct i can trust now that it's not soaked in alcohol
for every line of blow i ever did to get here
that when it comes to sobriety, there's no room for sugar coating
for bitches on speed dial while i'm on the train to crazy town
to create a problem out of thin air
then have a mirror held up to my face. it's me.
for a chance to be happy
to watch the self pick me apart to shreds
to break it down piece by piece and chant
with god my lipstick is red enough
with god my hair is soft enough
with god my body is skinny enough
with god my lashes are long enough

i love everything about me and when i say me i mean you.

Love what you've done with the place.

Apartment hunting. Oof.  I am trying to just enjoy the experience for what it is, which ain't always easy. Anyways, just to keep it interesting and to keep things in perspective, I keep stumbling upon this...

Monday, November 21, 2011

all signs point to ---> time to grow the fuck up

thank you

that this blog has turned into a gratitude diary
to let it be what it is. cie la vie.
to be just tired enough to tame my perfectionism
for my sponsees coming and going and growing and changing
that i get to be a part of something like that all because i drank too much
for the invaluable time and wisdom and heart between two alcoholics just trying to get one more day
for milo's wet lashes and teradactyl cry
two men in my kitchen cooking a delicious dinner
for wall to wall carpet
an apt priced a touch to high
and cold feet
but a quiet street
family as my neighbor
a bathtub
and god figuring it all out for me
for the dust from my past kicked up
that there are just some things in this life i may never understand
leaps of faith in love
that my baggage is coming with me until it's not and i don't get to choose when
old nests and new nests
to be grateful for all that i get to experience
for licked lips
side glances
happy dances because the food is so damn good
happy dances because you're so beautiful
a body to move in
love in
live in
that she said "the answer is somewhere there inside of you waiting to come out"
and i suspect she is right
taking leaps of faith in love
throwing out the rule book and the lesbian standards
for knots in my hair
the little tingle down there
for electricity running through the human body
the way he looks at me sometimes
for the hopeless romantic in me
and the little scared girl in me
for nail clippers
stretched leather
taking time away from my phone
and paying attention to what is right in front of me
squiggly light bulb wires
long brown straight hair
white foam bubbles on a black countertop
shades of pink in the sky
a wired haired dog wearing a raincoat
someone to love
things my iphone app could never give me or do for me
for a desire to be here
for all that is possible

Friday, November 4, 2011

so much life to live he said

thank you

that someone with 29 years of sobriety still needs to write gratitude lists
and still gets emotional over the pains of the relationship with his father
for humanness
to go where the love is and swim in it not caring whether or not i lost
trusting god is the ocean and the lifeboat
to forget then remember then forget then remember
it's not about me it's not about me it's not about me
for the self phone
for the break of light through the clouds
for the first chill of the season
and the early darkness
for sticky fingers
for eye boogs
for early morning sleepy sex
for thin walls and not giving a fuck
for big collars on coats
for thin suspenders
for the bulge in his pants
for a big girl life in a big girl world and taking my tools with me
to call bullshit out loud on my thinking "you're not real"
for ho's i can't imagine life without
to get in touch with the moment by paying attention to what my body is touching
the texture of the paper
the fabric on my skin
the smell in the air
the swell behind my eyes
hello body hello god
for the adventures of apartment hunting, early love...it's all just adventure
to be able to say "hey you know what...maybe you're right."
to be able to say "hey, i'm sorry i made that all about me"
for a life not built on lies
that god helped me build a strong foundation in early sobriety
so a little reconstruction never hurt anybody

all of me. why not take all of me?

i love everything about you.