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A Phone Call

December 11, 2009

You say goodnight, and I lay in bed, huddled under the covers, still holding on to my phone.

I’ve got that feeling.  That palpable, physical feeling.  I know it was there for all of those 56 minutes, but I’m only conscious of it now that the line that carried your voice to my ear has been temporarily severed.  It’s that feeling that makes a heart feel heavy and light, all at once.  It makes blood pulse through veins and eyes close in contentment.  It makes a body immovable with the weight of this thing being built on foundations one can only hope will remain solid.

It’s a good feeling.  It’s a little frightening.

I told you tonight that I have been known to get ahead of myself.  A childish tendency, something I seem to have grown out of to an extent, but that I can’t promise the urge won’t creep back into my subconscious and start affecting my behavior.  “I try to keep it under wraps,” I said.

“I think it’ll be fine,” you said.

And I think it will.  You gave me plenty of reasons not to get ahead of myself tonight.  That’s not to say things aren’t going well.  They are.  But there will be very little over-analyzation with you.  Very little mystery.  I always know what’s going on in your head.  You’re not afraid to tell me things I don’t even know to ask.  Or don’t think I should.

But you’ve got weird feelings toward these words, “relationship” and “boyfriend.”  You have to seriously ease your way in.  And even though you throw out more colloquial phrases like, “we are an item,” and more casual terms like “dating,” those two words, “relationship” and “boyfriend…”  I think they just feel too real to you.  Too permanent, maybe.

And that’s fine with me for now.  You care about me.  You love talking to me.  You think I’m remarkable.

And I don’t even know what a relationship is.
I don’t know what love is.
I don’t understand how I spent so much time getting so ahead of myself when I didn’t even know where I was headed.

But I’m laying in bed, clutching this little electronic piece of heaven, the one that brings your voice into my room, even when you’re miles and miles away.

And I’ve got that feeling.

And one thing I know is that I hope you’re feeling it too.
And I hope it doesn’t go away.



December 9, 2009

Something new and exciting coming.


Very soon.

An Early Little Merry Hello

December 7, 2009

I don’t know.  It just happened.

Click, download and enjoy.

And a Merry [very] Early Christmas to you!

Official Certified Northerner

December 5, 2009

I was up fairly early this morning, excited to get to Nashville by 10 to meet up with one of my favorite bloggers, Matt Cheuvront.

I went about my morning, munching on peanut butter toast as I ran a straightener through my hair and contemplated weather appropriate clothing.  I didn’t bother looking outside to check the thermometer, or even see if the sun was shining.  Tennessee hasn’t proven to be terribly surprising or harsh.  I didn’t think much of it.

But as I finally headed toward the door with my keys in my hand, I took my first glance at the outside world.  What did I see?


So I pranced out into the fluffy whiteness and took a few pictures with my cell phone and giggled in glee to myself as the neighbor kids burst out their back door covered head to toe in winter wear.

40 degrees outside, the stuff’s already melting, and they look like little white Eskimos.

I brushed the snow off my car and headed merrily into town, splashing through little freshly melted puddles, thrilled at the luck of such a pretty surprise on an already fairly delightful day.

And then I got to my exit.  And there was a cop sitting in front of it.  And turns out, I wasn’t exactly allowed to leave town.

No one was.

Because it snowed.


I couldn’t tell why on earth the interstate might be off limits.  There was no wreck as far as I could see, and the roads were not only NOT covered in snow, the snow had long since melted and dried.  The roads weren’t wet.  Not even a tiny glistening of moisture left to catch the sun.  And they weren’t letting me on the interstate.

I flipped through every radio station I could pick up. FM. AM.  I tried to decipher Spanish for about 20 seconds.  I heard NOTHING of official road closures, or even a mention of inclement precipitation at all.

So I decided this guy was wrong.  He was just WRONG.  It took all of my strength and will power not to pull up to him and say, “Hey, listen.  I’ve been driving in stuff 80 times worse than this since I was 14.  Can I get some sort of special clearance or something?  I mean, you don’t understand.  BLOGGER MEETING.”

Of course, I didn’t, because dude’s only doing his job and following the orders of some other clueless Rule Maker and there’s an exit south of my house that barely anyone uses that I’m just HOPING they’ll have forgotten about.

25 minutes later I’m driving down an empty interstate, dry as dust, contemplating the invention of Official Certified Northerner cards, to be used in these ridiculous situations as proof that my driving ability will in no way be affected by the mere knowledge that snow fell in this place in the last 12 hours.  Even though it no longer exists.

Thank you and good night.

Protected: a letter

December 4, 2009

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Who’s Paying for Dinner?

December 3, 2009

I don’t strategically reach for the bill, just fast enough that it seems I want to pick it up, but just ever so slowly enough that I lose the race and you gets to it first.

I don’t continue to grab at it playfully, letting escape verbal protestations of how it’s 2009 and I’m a woman, and I have a job too!

I don’t pay.  And I don’t pretend I want to.

You asked me out?  You can pick up the bill.

I know some guys like to see that show, even if they plan on paying in the end.  They like to think they’re being super impressive by getting to/having to say “No, I’ve got it,” as if it somehow cements their Male Role in this potential relationship.  But you know what?  If you’re one of those guys, you probably don’t want to date me.  I’m just not into theatrics… unless there’s a stage and a curtain.

But before you think badly of me, let me tell you this.  If you stick around long enough, I will make it up to you.

On one of those nights where we might not otherwise get to see each other because you’ve been working all day, and you’re likely to crash out at home while you nuke a couple hot dogs for dinner, I’ll do my damndest to make your long, unbearable week feel just a little bit shorter.  I’ll dig out new recipes and old recipes and I’ll spend an entire day shopping and cooking and baking and cleaning, and when you show up, it’ll be ready.  And you’ll get to eat a real meal, complete with pumpkin pie, and sit down and relax, and when you offer to help clean up, am I going to let you?


Sit.  Keep me company.  That’s all I want.

Because, listen, if you show me you appreciate me, I’m going to do what I can to show you I appreciate you right back.  Because I do.  But I think we both know homemade baked stuffed shells and pumpkin pie are so much better than pretending I’d rather pay for the coffee.

Well, anyway, I know someone who knows it.

Paying it Forward

December 2, 2009

October 29, 2009.

My brother’s 20th birthday, which, of course, I don’t get to spend with him because of the MILES and stuff.

The day I meet this incredibly amazing guy who is funny and considerate and easy to talk to and after an hour or so of music talk, pass him my number and continue to have conversation after wonderful conversation.

The day I show up at a coffee shop to play to what I’m assuming will be probably two people I know along with a handful of other random, lovely people who I’ll never see again, only to watch as at least half of the people I work with (and I work with a lot of people) come in one by one, sit down together, drink coffee and cheer me on.

That day was a GREAT day.

And I’ll remember that date specifically, maybe forever, because it’s already a date that matters.  It’s my brother’s birthday.  It’s also the anniversary of my grandfather’s death, although, while I always think about it, I usually don’t mention it… why bring a party down?  Either way, the date is significant, and I’ll remember it because of that, but the really, truly wonderful thing about this date in 2009 was that last bullet point.

People coming out to support you when you think they won’t have time or don’t really care all that much or just probably aren’t even thinking about it.  Seeing tables full of people you work with, smiling back at you, along with a couple of friends sitting a few tables ahead of them, and even more familiar faces on the couches to your left.  Seeing a room, albeit a small one, but A ROOM, filled with people who are there because of YOU, and not for one of those things we all feel obligated to go out and support like high school graduations and weddings.  It’s not as if I suspected any of these people didn’t like me or didn’t think I was a lovely person, but taking your time like that and showing up somewhere… it’s a big deal.  It’s a really big deal.  I mean, most of the people I went to school with didn’t show up to my senior recital, and the ones who did mostly did because they were getting credit to be there.  These people showed up because they wanted to.

So when my friend and coworker Kelly told me she had her senior art show coming up and she said, “You should come!”  I said “I WILL!”  And just like I always do when someone says the same to me, I think she was thinking, “Well, she has good intentions now, but we’ll see.”  It’s much easier to think that way than have to be disappointed later, when it counts.  So when I showed up with an hour of the show left to go last night with a big smile on my face and a big hug just waiting to be given, her eyes lit up and she exclaimed, “YOU CAME!”

And I said, “I told you I would!”

And then we stood and talked and looked at her work and the work of the others in the gallery, and we smiled and we ate chocolate and I was there to support her.

And she thanked me over and over and over again for coming.

And she’s talented.  She’s really talented.

I didn’t go there because I necessarily expected that my presence would make or break her night.  That’s silly.  But when I got off of work last night and thought, “I’m tired, and I’ve still got recording to do, should I really go?” I remembered October 29, and the way seeing everybody sitting in that place because of me made me feel, and I thought, Yes.  I have to go.

It was so worth it.

Plus, I picked up a little surprise for my mom while I was there.