something about us (ode to autumn revisited)

you are my one, my only.

how could i go on without the sweet caresses of your embrace?

without the gentle comfort of your scent?

stepping out into your crisp, cool air

is an invigoration only akin to sex and coffee first thing in the morning.

curling up with a blanket and a pumpkin spice latté while watching you rain

is almost better than nuzzling my face between a warm pair of breasts.

but i know that you cannot always be mine.

you think i am too clingy, and you feel the need to put some distance between us.

soon you will leave, and give your friend winter

the go-ahead to fuck me in the ass while you're gone.

and i let him

because i know that enduring his cold disinterest

is the only way to get you back.

so while you're here,

i wanted to remind you how deeply i love you.

how, without you, my life would be stripped of its happiest moments.

without you, my favorite plaid jacket would stay hidden forever.

my favorite flavors would forever be a mystery.

and i would forget why i started running.

i know you hate when i get clingy,

so i won't tell you how much i'm going to cry when you leave.

but, just this once, won't you think about staying?

because i suck at life

here i find myself, yet again, writing on this here blog machine as a means of procrastination. i have to write a presentation paper on a moretti article which, unlike most secondary reading for this class, i actually comprehended. the problem is, i'm not a tree maker, so i don't quite know how to make a presentation on this piece that isn't a mere summary. thus, i write blog instead. 

i don't really have much to say; i'm tired of telling the identity theft (and loss of precious percocet!) story, so if you don't know about it already you can ask me at a later date. or ask someone else who can tell it. i have, however, been thinking a lot lately about how i feel uncomfortable in much of the clothing i own. a good portion of the time, i dress myself for the day, theoretically okay with what i have put on, only to later realize that no, in fact i hate what i'm wearing. why do i even own this atrocity? who was i when i bought this? because surely i wasn't myself. and then it occurs to me that i no longer have a sure sense of what is "myself" when it comes  to clothes. sure, i've had different phases, and i've never maintained a consistent aesthetic, but at any given moment in my life i've always felt like me in my clothes (we'll conveniently ignore ages 14-17 for the purposes of this exploration. i'm going to chalk up those years to extenuating circumstances). for example, although i now dismiss most people with dreadlocks who wear skirts over their jeans as stupid hippies, there was a time when i felt comfortable in such an aesthetic. even my 9-year-old fashion (bold as it was), with my neon blue leggings, canvas flats, and oversized, overworn t-shirt with bunnies on it, felt, at the time, like me. 

but now i don't feel like me. i've thrust myself into a semi-professional environment, with neither the money nor the time to develop a wardrobe that reflects both my environment and my personality. i still wear the things i have, but they are beginning to feel less and less like me. and when i do acquire something new, it seems out of place in the clothing limbo that i currently feel stuck in. it seems that part of the problem, like i mentioned, is a lack of the resources necessary (money and time) for the creation of a new aesthetic. another part of the problem (perhaps the most substantial part) is that i still haven't quite discovered what that aesthetic is. in other words, despite constantly realizing what isn't me, i still can't figure out what is me (the right now me). 

am i having an identity crisis? maybe. mostly, though, i just don't want to write this presentation. 

you only think you're pretty

oh. my. christ. 

how am i already this tired and overworked? post-prelims better be fucking awesome compared to this because there's no way i can deal with feeling this way for the next 5 or 6 or 10 years straight. 

on the plus side (there's a plus side?), i like teaching so far. the first day was pretty goddamn awkward, but we seem to be developing more of a rapport now. i had them all sign up for office hours to talk about their first papers and it wasn't as awkward as it could have been (at least on my end). one girl told me about how she's kind of weirded out by her dorm experience so far because her roommate is 24 (which is a year older than i am). made me think about how simultaneously young and old i am. i may retract this when i am older, but there is no part of me that wishes i were 18 again. maybe this is because i thought dorms sucked, or because i was a pretty lame and awkward 18-year-old, or because the convenience of buying alcohol whenever the fuck i want (which is always) totally beats whatever thrill kids get from drinking illegally. but at any rate, i like where i'm at. i still don't feel entirely like an adult, though i'm not sure that i really ever will. there's still so much of me that is a 5-year-old little girl dancing around naked by the pool (because all southern california apartment complexes have pools, you know). 

but yeah, teaching. one kid today told me that i'm a "pretty cool ta." i can be down with that. i had a bit of a pleasant surprise when it turned out that one of the two kids who i had mentally pegged as potential slackers wrote one of the better papers in the class for the first short assignment. the other kid has yet to disprove my slacker assessment (i think he's at -3 right now in my mental points scale), but i'm still hopeful. 

although i'm not a fan of trite status updates, i would like to just say that my semester has not started with the bang i had hoped it would. it being the case that i am taking two classes in my area as well as japanese, i think i was hoping that the semester would instantly transport me into excited-for-schoolwork mode. i'm not saying i hate my classes, they're just not the instant boost of magic that i had previously wished for. there's still potential, though, especially in my poetry class. i'm presenting/leading discussion on the week we're doing aurora leigh. i'm pretty excited to revisit the poem that (as cliché as it sounds) is at the foundation of my literary endeavors. the name that became my alter-ego. the name that is everything i would be (could be?). me and aurora go way back.  

candy-flavored candy

i wish it were last summer.

okay, i only kind of wish it were last summer. this summer has its moments. and there are a lot of things about right now that i wouldn't trade for the world. like ben, and the security i feel with him now (seriously, the devoted, committed, domesticated boyfriend you all know and love has been a long time in the making). i also wouldn't want to go back to not knowing the people i now consider vital to my graduate existence. like junior. oh, what a pit of boring my life would be without you. gracias por tu presencia en mi vida. (see, i too am sophisticated enough to use google translator. take that, boyfriend.) 

but last summer was so goddamn awesome. in a lot of ways. for starters, i was still in spokane (where the summers are perfect and humidity-free), spending as much time as possible with all the people i knew i wouldn't see for such a long stretch of time (even longer now, as this summer has not yielded the opportunity of traveling out west). i had just graduated from college and had literally no responsibility whatsoever. i went dancing at prago every weekend, always dressed up and looking fabulous. i also weighed about 10lbs less than i do now (mostly thanks to my old friends, cigarettes and a lack of appetite), which helped with the fabulousness. graduate school still didn't seem real--even in the days before i left washington, madison and grad school were these far away realities that seemed likely to stay that way. 

i was also still dancing, which, for as much as i didn't care for it, was quite fulfilling in its own way. and as poor as i am right now, i can't say that i don't miss being able to leave every night with anywhere from $200-$400 in cash. but more than that, i really just miss the dancing itself. okay, maybe not so much "table dancing" (i don't know why they call it that; there were no tables involved), but stage dancing was so much awesome. it made me feel sexy, sultry, beautiful, amazing--all the feelings that are, for most women, hard to come by. when i was up there it was just me and the song. there's something so right about dancing; it's like it makes the music go straight into my soul, and the beauty i felt from that didn't come from the money or the outfits or the heels (although they might have helped a bit), but from the connection of my body to the music. 

so basically, the thing that sucks most about this summer is that, for whatever reason or combination of reasons, i feel ugly. i'm not sure if reminiscing about times that i felt beautiful makes me feel better or worse about my current self, but i can't really help it.