Author Archive

barefoot and forgetful

Thursday, January 1st, 2004
a red dress
flowing free
in the breeze
she sighs
but the sun is bright
and she feels warm
and carefree
she runs
away from
problems and pain
away from empty hearts
and cruel looks
the city lies behind
the hills and fields ahead
she hears the wind call her name
and she looks forward
to the unknown
– 10:36 PM


Thursday, January 1st, 2004

I’m a public youth services librarian in the Rochester, NY area. As woman in her twenties, I haven’t had too much experience as a librarian yet, but the experiences I have had have been very interesting.

I’m also a relatively new mother of a little guy who keeps me on my toes. Thank god he’s so darn cute because I might have lost my mind.

And so the embarrassment begins…

Thursday, January 1st, 2004

I’m going to do it. I’m going to start posting poetry and short stories. Even if I embarrass myself. This is what I originally wanted to do with my blog, but didn’t have the guts to do it. So here it goes!

Christmas in Stitches – Literally

Thursday, January 1st, 2004

Hi again. I just thought I’d talk a little about my Christmas… It sucked! I passed out on the kitchen floor Christmas Eve, and cut my face up under my cheek. My husband and I had to go to the emergency room and I needed to get seven stitches. They put me on an IV and I received two whole bags of fluid. Yummy yummy. Everyone who came in thought maybe I might be pregnant, but no such luck. We finally got home around 11 pm and had to finish wrapping Christmas presents, so we went to sleep around 2:30 am.
Luckily the rest of the Christmas was uneventful, but tiring.

lists and lists and still I can’t remember

Friday, December 12th, 2003
I have begun to make lists
things to do
what I ate for dinner
before it spills out
of my head
and disappears forever
I am too young
to lose my head
there shouldn’t be
enough in it
to disappear forever
I want to keep
my first kiss
my 21st birthday
my first hangover
my wedding day
I don’t just want lists
that remind me
I had fun
I got sick
I was happy
I need to remember
who I am
why I am here
why I shouldn’t disappear
Its just too hard
to stay clear
to remember
who I am
and why

waste matter memories

Thursday, December 11th, 2003
I can no longer
such as
washing my hair
locking the door
brushing my teeth
hugging my dog
my head is cluttered
by too much
waste matter
such as
song lyrics
all begin to disappear
soon, I will be left
with nothing.

For my mother

Wednesday, February 13th, 2002

gentle hugs become
with the need
for comfort
only a mother
can give
always standing by
never turning
your back
unless you know
its time
to let go now
never giving up
the hope
a joyful return
back home.

Written: February 13, 2002

The night that changed everything

Wednesday, September 17th, 1997

Entering the house it was dark, warm, and smoky. Breathing in the smoky musky air, I could see that this was a home of smokers. Almost immediately my friend Jamie assaults me, something that I always accept, not only from her but just about anyone who would actually want to hug me.

It almost seems impossible that she would be able to hug me this tight, her body being as waif-like as it is. Afraid that I might crush her body from my fierce need for contact, I finally let go of her. We sit down in the living room, after I manage to find room by pushing aside piles of clothes and papers, mainly which are newspapers and scribbled upon pieces of paper which hold casually drawn figures and scenes that seem beautiful and dreamlike to me. The couch may once have had springs, but that no longer holds true anymore. I sink down into the couch and almost hit the floor. After becoming accustomed to both the couch and the darkness, I look around. To say that this house was well lived in would be putting it lightly. The house had piles of things anywhere that there was space. Books were stacked up like mini skyscrapers trying to reach for the smoky sky above.

The piles of clothes reminded me of large looming mountains containing condemned monsters within. Empty and half-full cigarette boxes of various brands were on tables and couches. Ashtrays holding butts and ashes from the six or seven different brands lay about in all corners like soldiers waiting to serve this miniature city. Jamie and I began talking small talk in order to catch up on what had been going on for the past year. As we were talking, she asked me for a cigarette. I had only just started smoking and was completely willing to give up one of my precious death sticks if it meant less for me. We both lit the cigarettes and I watched the lighter burn a little before lighting. I watched the golden flame from the lighter knowing that this was exactly what I had been taught not to do when I was little. I sighed and lit the cigarette anyway, holding it in my mouth and sucking in the burning smoke from the glowing stick. The smoke entered my body, burning my throat. I put one of the soldiers to use, flicking the ashes into the ashtray.

I have listened to what Jamie was saying and half staring at the television screen, watching the news talk about death and the stock market. I looked at Jamie, smiling and nodding. I hadn’t heard a thing that either she or the television said. Another girl came into the room smiling and telling me that her name was Gayle. I nodded and smiled shyly. We all sat there smoking and talking a little, mostly staring at the TV.

Just then, the door crashed open and a tall blond girl rushed in the room, carrying with her the scent of Sunflowers perfume. She threw the entire length of her body onto the couch and lit up a cigarette. The girl acknowledged my presence, remembering me from a past adventure with Jamie somewhere. Somehow that made me feel good and I smiled to myself unconsciously.

Following behind her was a lanky guy; he must have been over six feet tall, fair-haired, which was slightly thinning. He looked like a beanpole, with a cute baby face. He was wearing a pink dress shirt and a Charlie Brown tie, which he then proceeded to tell everyone he had spilled something on. He also had some tan pants on, but they seemed too baggy for his slim figure, so I didn’t care for them too much. I’m usually not attracted to the skinny normal looking type, and end up with the teddy bear, grungy type, but there was something about him that I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of.

He walked into the room with an air of nonchalance, as though he was surrounded by people he knew really well and felt comfortable around. The guy ran up to Jamie and gave her a big bear hug, which seemed to last forever. He then proceeded to tickle her, and for some reason I started to feel insanely jealous. I had no reason to be jealous, I didn’t know this guy, but for some reason I wanted him to tickle me instead. But rather than join in this game, since, one, it seemed a private game for the two of them, and, two I hardly knew any of the people in the room, and even Jamie seemed like a stranger. So I hid in my corner and stared at the ashtray wishing that I could suddenly implode, knowing that no one in the room would notice. They then went to another game using a plastic ball that they flung at each other. This included everyone except me. I was too busy being passive, too busy being just another pile of clothes on the couch. So I would end up losing out because I was afraid that they would hate me or not want me in the group. Sighing to myself again, I realized what a loser I was being.

Somehow in all their excitement, the guy’s pen, which made me realize that I still had no idea what his name was, was flung at me. I grabbed it, the plain white pen as close as I thought I would get to touch him. Why did I think about that? I couldn’t think straight. All that I knew was that I wanted to be close to him like Jamie was. I wanted to learn about him, to at least know his name. Anything! But I sat silently clutching on to this cheap white clicky pen as if it held all the secrets to my immature and petty seventeen-year old life.

As I was contemplating this, the guy must have realized that his pen was missing. He asked me who had his pen, his voice warm and friendly, flowing through me like melting honey. I couldn’t help but smile, if not from the knowledge of who had the pen, then from the sound of his voice pouring over me. He started grabbing at me, looking for the pen. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be the nice stranger or if I wanted to hold the pen forever. Finally I just gave in, even though I loved the feel of his hands touching me. I took one last look at the pen, allowing my warmth to saturate the pen, then handed it to him. He smiled a smile that was so wonderful, so beautiful, and yet so silly at the same moment. I might have smiled back, but I turned my head to watch Seinfield before he noticed.

He sat down on the ottoman and started talking about how much he wanted to move out of his parents’ house and move into an apartment on Park Avenue. I was too busy looking at his face to notice what he was saying. He looked so happy; his face was so alive it was almost glowing. I couldn’t remember the last time I had looked into a mirror and found a face that happy.

Jamie started complaining about being hungry and begged the guy, Jeff, I think she said, to take her out to eat. He consented, and I was invited along. I couldn’t help worrying about everything and anything at that moment. Then I realized I had to ask my parents. Damn it! I cursed myself. What if they say no? I might never get this chance again. Chance? Chance for what? But deep in my heart, I knew what.

I dialed the number, knowing that they would say no.


“Hello?” It was my father.

“Hi daddy!” Damn! That would give it away. But I guess it didn’t really matter.

“What?” I hoped that he wouldn’t get upset.

“Umm. Yeah, well. I wanted to know if I could go out to eat with Jamie and some friends.” Silence.

“I’ll have a ride home.” I looked up at them hopefully. There was a nod in acceptance.

“Well…” I could hear my mother’s voice in the background, indecisive.

“Okay. I guess. Call if you have any problems.” Great! I was getting really excited now.

“Thanks daddy!” Don’t sound too excited.

“Bye daddy.”

“Buh bye Cathy. Don’t get into trouble.”

Click. The phone was silent, but my mind was full of enough thoughts now that it didn’t really matter anymore. Now there was the dialtone.

I looked up at everyone and smiled shyly. “Its okay.”

We walked towards the door, and as I walked passed Jeff I took one last look at him. He noticed, and winked at me, smiling. Embarrassed, a deep blush rose from the depths of my skin, and I looked away, walking into the warm heat of late summer.

Written: September 17, 1997