Friday July 29, 2016 at BATW
from a Facebook post
Marissa was insistent on spending as little as possible on her wedding to Greg. Her friends asked her why she wouldn’t want this special day to be more classy or fancy or memorable. And then Marissa dumped all her friends and moved to a tiny island town and lived in a log cabin where she ate dehydrated beef and played scrabble with her cat. She told them she didn’t want to wake up one day and realize she had wasted all her hard earned money on a thing that might not last. And they were appalled. Was she having second thoughts about Greg? Was she cheating on him with his brother Grant? Was she going to be a Run-away Bride? And Marissa slapped them all in their dumb mouths and ate a bowl of peach cobbler drenched in Añejo 7. It wasn’t about doubting Greg. But a marriage is the thing that people should be focused on. The thing that takes 100 years to succeed at. Not the wedding, which lasts for 8 hours on the day, but then haunts your financial dreams for the next 1000 years, leaving you wishing you just went to City Hall like all the smart people.
Thursday July 28, 2016 at BATW
Letters To A Young Poet
Rainer Maria Rilke
She hopped to her seat at the back of the aircraft and chuckled to herself as she heard the voice in her head refer to it as an aircraft. A craft that belongs in the air, she thought, how magical. Someone thought this thing up and then built a bunch of Popsicle stick models out of it before building the real thing.
She was anxious to get home for her brother’s surprise 30th that her whole family was apparently gathering for. He was the one who invited her to it in the first place, but they were close and couldn’t keep secrets from each other. Her brother had found an envelope in the garbage that had the details on it. She was excited to get back to her life as she knew it best for a little while. Familiar streets and faces, going strawberry picking with the family, spending quality time with her dog.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
From a text
Reese made me throw out my slushie before I got in the car and I wanted to strangle him for the next six hours as a result. I thought it was stupid of him to be a dick to me as I was the only thing keeping him from driving off a cliff. But whatever. It’s like, maybe if you would drink some slushie I wouldn’t have to throw it all away just so we don’t risk getting your stupid car dirty. It wasn’t even going to happen again but Reese holds grudges, like woah. Like woahhhhhh. So. Whatever. I threw it away. But then I sat with my arms crossed the whole time because car tension really messes with a driver’s head. Especially Reese because he holds grudges but he also holds on to guilt. When he’d ask me to change the music, I did it and everything. I’m not a monster. But I took my sweet time and I made him wait for it. And if he got hungry I would give him a chip or or a piece of cheese, but then pretend to fall asleep in between bites. I don’t know if I wanted an apology or if he was waiting for me to be sorry that I was trying to have a little fun on this road trip, but whatever. I think we both lost or something.
Tuesday July 26, 2016 at BATW
from the write up on the painting “Ascend”
Heaven forbid I tell you how I actually feel. I say that under my breath because I’m too afraid to say anything about how I actually feel with full voice. What the eff. Where did that start? When I was a kid? As everything in this life does? I had to do what you did when we were young because I wanted to be you and the only way I knew how to be you was to do what you did or what you wanted. That made sense. I was looking for lightening. Wasn’t about to spend three to five years wishing I was you without trying to make it so. I still want to be you on most days. You were older than me then but now you’re a painting. I see you still: beautiful and still. You’re not going anywhere and I don’t have to run to catch up to you. I don’t have to hold my breath and count to three because you’re not running away from me. I am a mess. It makes sense that I would want to live your life and not mine. But I still can’t tell you how I actually feel. Because my soul is drunk on doubt and it flies high when it’s left to its own devices. You are still the moon, and I love you for that. The shiny thing in my sky that makes me want to open my eyes and see…
Monday, July 25, 2016
From a text
An unexpected family thing came up and I’m not going to be able to make it. I’m sorry. I really am. Shit, Bette, don’t cry. Are you crying? Please stop crying… Bette, I’m not making excuses. My Ma called and something’s going down at the shop. She needs my help. My Dad’s still in hospital, you know. Stop being so selfish. I really don’t know what to say… Shit, stop crying please. Can you take a friend? Call Lynn and see if she’s – … Oh. I see. Well, what about Donna? Could Donna go? I didn’t know that. When did you have a falling out? Bette. I’m trying my best here, but I’m being pulled in a million different directions and if I had my druthers I would take a hot shower, have a drink and go to bed… Bette? Don’t hang up! Bette. I’m sorry. I really am.
Monday, July 25, 2016
From a text
Annie calls me from the other room to see if I’m awake. I am. But I ignore the ring. Letting it finish its tune before I toss in bed some more to make it seem like I’m still asleep. Annie hasn’t been sleeping well on the couch, even though she says she has been. She makes sad squealing noises throughout the night but doesn’t remember doing it. I know she isn’t well but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I told Jeremiah about it and he told me he needed at least eight hours sleep to get through his day and if he could sleep on the couch, he would. I told Jeremiah I would sleep on the couch if he would let my sister sleep on my side with him in the bed. He looked at me like I had just swallowed too many blue pills. He shook his head slowly from side to side and said, I don’t know, Lisa, I don’t know.
For the first time I wonder if Jeremiah is attracted to Annie. Or if he is trying to assert his power.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
From a birthday card
I didn’t mean to be rude but I was. I told you I didn’t think it mattered if you lived or died and I see the error of my ways now and how if I were thinking clearly I could have avoided hurting you. I really didn’t mean to. Not that I ever do, but that stuff doesn’t usually make up enough for the other stuff, so I’m sorry. I am. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I think if I could go back in time I would have assessed you differently and I would have made different choices. Maybe I would have asked you what you meant, or asked for clarification before I assumed you were really asking me the question. Of course it matters if you live or die. I mean, every minute of your life is important so don’t get me wrong when I tell you any of this. I should have been more careful.
It’s always my fault, whether I like it or not.
You are valuable. I mean that. I just meant before in the grand scheme of life, that it didn’t matter because nothing matters, because everything matters, but because it’s everything it’s also nothing. Does that make sense? In the grand scheme of things, and things being the world, and the world being life, nothing matters.