cheeseroom

let’s catch up

Since my eye appointment in October, I’ve been getting migraines about once a month. Up from maybe two times a year, this is a lot. Too many. I’ll mention it at my next doctor appointment in February. Besides living in fear of that dreaded aura signaling a possible forty-eight hours of discomfort, things are good. How are things with you?

Here is a Thanksgiving list of ten of my favorite things in no particular order, maybe: 10. Watercolor. I’ve been painting a lot lately. I have an Etsy shop now, and I’ve made four sales! If I decide to sell it, my November work will be listed some time next month. Though it flatters me to be commissioned, it’s not one of my favorite things. The pressure of specific peoples’ expectations is…

Now, I guess, I almost sort of regret that I always said Zayn was tied for last as my favorite member of One Direction. Because I realize that without him, without Liam, even, the band does not exist. I mean, it does, technically, but not in the way it did, the way it should, or ever will again. And I’m closer to thirty than I am to sixteen so maybe they’re not as much mineas maybe NSYNC should…

all guilty of something

we’d seen a lot of episodes before. bits and pieces throughout the series. don’t usually feel i should like a show until i’ve seen it from the beginning. every episode. in order. because i’m tired and i’ve been tired all month, after completing the first season in criminal minds, i have only common and expected comments, i think. the first of which is that i now want to be in the behavioral…

I worry all the time that my life narrative won’t make sense if I don’t write down now what I’m feeling and what I think about how I feel and what I think I should feel about that. But when I’m tired or lazy, or when I miss a day of blogging when I thought I wouldn’t, I like to zoom out a little, take a step back and remember that I wouldn’t have liked myself very much anyway if when I’m…

party and party and yeah

It’s finally Friday and I have no plans except to lie on the couch with Daniel and pizza and maybe a Criminal Minds marathon on Netflix. I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I look forward to it every day it’s not the weekend. School was much of the same. If I ever reach it, I wonder what retirement will be like.

Maybe someday I’ll have an excuse for why my blog has been so lame.

not the first thing

                  Somewhere in the closet there are two little squares on which I’d been meaning to paint since January. I don’t actually know the first thing about watercolors.

in the office, it’s cold. i’m cold and there’s four hours left. the beds of my nails turn a purplish blue and i wonder if it’s the light or if i’m really dying. i can still taste the garlic on my tongue from the sandwich i ate at lunch, and its hour-old flavor is nauseating. i sip water and i nibble on sweet tarts to pass the time, but it moves as if i’m watching it, as if it knows how badly i…

i wore green today because it’s what you’re supposed to do, but outside of the apartment, i never wanted anyone to see me and the clothes i was wearing. in school, people would say it’s lucky i’m wearing green because they’d have to pinch me if i wasn’t, and i always thought that was dumb. no one really says anything about it now. no one said it to me today. that’s the way it should be. but it…

look http://wp.me/spbIm-look

When I was younger and intentionally fascinated with things that would make my mother cringe, I would take her old sewing needles and thread them through a thin layer of skin on my fingers and tell her to look.

The sun has already set on our weekend. Daniel’s working on his computer next to me, and Zuko is pawing around our desk trying to make us notice her. Along with a cool March breeze, shouts and laughter from the kids in the pool downstairs travel through our open jalousies. Dinner is ready, cooling on the stove top, and I’m tired. It’ll be another long week, but if I can expect weekends like this…

barely avoiding a lake

the friday five

1. Anna closed her eyes and fingered through a stack of old paintings, portraits of hands in all colors, palms up, waiting, wanting. “I know you’re lying, Jerry,” she said, exasperated,

Is what I would have written for Fiction Friday if I knew what to type after that last comma. Whatever. I already have a little story-type thing with someone flipping through a stack of paintings,…

even after all these years

Six years ago, over pizza at the mall, I agreed to be Daniel’s girlfriend. While I weighed the consequences of either decision, I realized my hands were on his arm like they’d been there before. I was hesitant, but not really, and I think he knew we’d be together. I’ve always felt so much a part of him. Even more, now. Can’t imagine anything better. (Except us with more cats.)