When The Clock Strikes Twelve

When The Clock Strikes Twelve

I wanted to write of midnight and the passing of time.

I wanted to tell you of a kiss that was both incoming and outgoing.

A kiss that was a first and the sadness in the eyes of the one who gave it.

You were my first midnight kiss,” I said smiling.

I’m sorry, ” he replied as he kissed me again

And suddenly my midnight kiss was bittersweet and painful. And I stood there quietly listening to the pulsing of my heartbeat in my ears and the explosion of fireworks in the night sky.

Don’t be sad for me.” I whispered. “Just let me enjoy this moment.”

Jerkface (Because I’m not Good at Titles)

Jerkface (Because I’m not Good at Titles)

I desperately wanted you to be mine, but you gave yourself away to so many others.

In secret, you threw me the remaining scraps of your attention.

And like a starving dog, begging under the table, I desperately gathered what I could to survive.

Why were you so cruel when I loved you with everything I had?

I add these to the list of questions that will forever go unanswered.

Honey

Honey

I love the color of your eyes in the morning sun as you hold me close to you– warm honey gazing at me with longing.

I love the sound of your voice, rough and sweet as we stretch and you ask me how I slept.

This is what I’d been missing. This is what I’ve been waiting for.

Curling up in your strong arms–warm and safe– for a few moments nothing else exists.

On Giving Thanks and Eating all the Food

On Giving Thanks and Eating all the Food

*I wrote this four years ago. It came up as a memory on the Facebook. Since Thanksgiving is upon us I thought I’d share it again

I don’t really cook.
 
Scratch that.
 
I don’t cook.
 
Occasionally I will bake things that look really nice and taste just as good. Sometimes I make beans and I don’t burn them. Other times I manage to make spaghetti. 
 
I know what you’re thinking, “HOW IN THE HELL DO YOU BURN BEANS? YOU ONLY HAVE TO BOIL THEM.”  Oh my friends. If you only knew. I once burned the spaghetti. You can’t win them all, my little turtledoves. You can’t win them all.
 
I digress.
 
It’s Thanksgiving, a holiday that makes me so happy that I’m ‘Merican. Trust me, rest of the world, you are missing out.
 
I’m sitting in the kitchen smelling the turkey I just put in the oven (but did not prepare, putting it in the oven is the only thing I could be trusted to do) and watching the parade. There’s cajeta boiling on the stove because I learned the hard way, last night, that I do not know how to make praline topping the way the Pilsbury cookbook told me to. It’s okay though.
 
And as I watch a bunch of overly excited elementary school students dance to a song about Santa being real or something I realize I’m supposed to be reflecting on what I’m thankful about.
 
I know there are those people who like to ruin Thanksgiving by moaning, “you’re supposed to be thankful every day.” And all I can think is, “shut up, nobody asked you to talk.”
 
Because let’s face it. Sometimes life just gets in the way of gratitude.
 
There’s work, and chores, and responsibility, and those family members and friends that just annoy the heck out of you, and bad hair days, and traffic tickets, and inconsiderate people and too much traffic, and accidents, and paperwork, and burnt food, and sleepless nights, and prolonged hospital stays, and everything else that keeps us too busy to even want to say thank you to anyone.
 
So I think that it’s wonderful that on every fourth Thursday of November we, as a nation, together, say, “stop, collaborate and listen– er… give thanks.” Or something to that extent. I’m sorry, I use any opportunity to keep Vanilla Ice relevant. 
 
And when I’m feeling low and sad I forget that I have so much to be thankful for. But rather than bore you with a long list of things you probably don’t care about I’ll tell you the two that are always at the forefront of my mind.
 
I thank God for my family, extended and immediate. For my parents who are supportive of me in everything that I do and for my wonderful sisters, with whom I have a freakishly close bond. I’m thankful that even though they say I followed them home from the monkey zoo, they decided to keep me.
 
And then there’s my adoptive family. My friends, near and far. They say you can’t choose your family but you can choose your friends. And I’m so happy that they chose me. And even when I’m crochety and moody and mean they still love me for some reason. What would I do without you guys? Probably sing less karaoke…
 
So on this day full of nummy nums and warm feelings, I hope you are gathering ’round the table with those who mean the most to you, getting ready to stuff yourself till your pants burst at the seams.
 
And I hope that you remember that no matter what, you are loved and there is nothing I can think of to be more thankful for.