Category: feelings

a memory of my name + a middle of the night feeding = a google search that led her to me

updates / family member x humor squared = current conversations of days past

proper age range + houses separated by a street + arts & crafts & movies x a mischievous sibling = therapy bills / basketball playing parable

saxophone practice (with sunglasses) x 2 = earmuffs purchased

a near perfect memory of hers + toddler memories of my own = a full picture of a state long ago

a blog comment + an email exchange + a family conversation = warm hearts all around

TAKE THAT, algebra.

there was an off leash dog named echo running joyfully across the grassy field towards the other dog. “echo, come back!” the other dog’s owner was in a hurry and didn’t have time to stop. echo’s owner called after him, but he ignored the human in favor of someone like him.

echo! come here!

echo!

echo!

echo!

i’m in an adult-level situation involving a tropical storm, a branch, a dent, a nor’easter, puddles in my car, and car insurance. i’ve done steps one and two. step three involves an appraisal.

me: i’d like to schedule an appraisal.

him: no you don’t.

me: what?

him: you just bring your car in during our office hours.

me: *looks at noticeably slim available times*

him: we’re not the insurance company. we’re an independent contractor, so if our hours don’t work for you, you’ll have to call your insurance company and get them to send someone out because we can’t just come out to your car.

me: oh, okay. this is the first time i’ve ever had to file a claim so i wasn’t sure of the proper process. i see you’re open tomorrow morning, which will work for me. see you then.

here’s hoping the echos of adulthood i’m projecting today still linger tomorrow.

after yesterday’s rain clouds, the (metaphorical) sun is shining today. it’s been a long time coming, but oh how bright those rays are.

the backstory:

(1) back in early march, i read this post and loved the message so much, i quickly sent it to adriana and commissioned her to write me a poem because i needed to imprint the message of “love yourself. fight for yourself…love is not the end all be all. LIFE is” on my brain.

(2) she accepted and in late march created me this.

(3) <333

(4) i saved the link on my phone and i read the poem daily.

(5) i mentioned on twitter than i wanted/needed someone to design this so i could print it out and frame those gorgeous words.

(6) a local solution arrived in the form of heather. she was taking a letterpress class this semester and had been pondering final project ideas when she saw my shout into the ether.

(7) she accepted and over the course of the past few weeks created me this:

(8) <333

(9) i can hardly stand the beauty, the hard work, the talent of my friends. i want to shout about them from the rooftops and from all corners of the internet until i lose my voice and all your hear are the echoes in your heart.

(10) now i have to find a frame and a nail and a hammer because this baby’s getting hung in my apartment. *looks up youtube videos on how to hang something*

everything in my life seems to be leaking, dripping, filling up with water. my kitchen sink, which i use for everything since my bathroom sink has next to no water pressure, has been rendered useless because the pipes underneath leak. also, my toilet runs (again). my landlord is in the opposite of a hurry to fix either problem despite the fact his wife assures me he’ll be there as soon as possible. my car (when parked outside in a nor’easter or hurricane) allows water in on the driver’s side. there are no visible holes to allow such water in, but this never happened until a tree branch fell on my car and dented my roof… i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t even know how to clean up the water because it’s so much and paper towels / beach towels don’t stand up to the job. will mold and/or mushrooms grow in my car?

*opens umbrella* *realizes leaks are coming from the ground, not the sky* *closes umbrella*

i thought this was all stuff adults were supposed to know how to do? maybe i was absent that day.

all the rain. a red umbrella for color because it certainly wasn’t for protection. gigantic puddles. wet elbows. jeans in dark denim not because they were in style but because they were soaked. sidewalks crowded with wind and despair.

tonight was my last official class. almost everyone was there buzzing with comments for the workshop and giving the prof the benefit of the doubt before rolling our eyes at his latest tangent. he brought in munchkins and napkins. our homework had been to write a 50 word story. the technology in the room was broken, so a classmate was reading aloud from his laptop. i nominated one written by a very quiet but “listen when she speaks cause it’s right on” girl. i was/am obsessed with her story. it was pure poetry and it was good life advice. the smile on her face when i said “read hers! read hers!” illuminated the overcast night.

a classmate pulled me aside post class, “i know you’re a very busy individual, but could you read my piece one last time? i changed it wholeheartedly.” my smile illuminated the overcast night.

the rain dissolved into mist. my red umbrella returned to its useful state. the sidewalks were crowded with people again.

“great minds think in the same channel.” maga on us dialing each other at the exact same moment.