Lounging in my Underwear

Author’s Note: I just wanted to give a heads up to any close friends that read this blog- this poem is definitely (there’s no way to say this that isn’t embarrassing) erotic, though I hope in a sensitive rather than sleazy way, so please consider if reading any further is gonna make you feel uncomfortable (I totally don’t blame you if it would).  … Desert Green Our little corner of the earth- You know the place- The one where I take you, late at night When you fly into LAX, And I help you escape the cold chrome of Terminal 5- And drive you out to the middle of nowhere, to thank you for enduring the hell of a cross-country flight- That place, our place Is robed in springtime green. - Have you ever seen the desert in bloom? - The buttercup petals of Jerusalem sage,  Adorning lanky stalks like mink stoles, A protection from breezes chilled by the coast, And the lavendars and greys of San Luis sage buds Sweet and round, like a child’s cheek.  The chaparral whitethorn perfumin...

The cycle of death and rebirth has held tightly to the human psyche since, at least, the dawn of agricultural settlements, if not sooner. The Sumerians celebrated a holiday similar to Easter in the spring, during which the goddess Inanna was venerated for overcoming death and her sister’s duplicity in the underworld and returning to the realm of the gods. She left her loser husband (who hadn’t even mourned her!) Dumuzid in her place. The Akkadians, Babylonians, and Assyrians venerated Ishtar, their equivalent of Inanna, with the same holidays. The Israelites and possibly Canaanites celebrated Purim, and the Greeks have the myth of Hades and Persephone to explain the cyclical seasons.  Talking about religion is awkward at best and presumptuous and pushy at worst, so I promise to keep this next bit brief. Being raised Catholic (and still being loosely so), the Lenten season signifies a time of reflection, penitence, and growth in my religion. We’re called to think about our shortcomi...

I wrote a post about medical complaints last night, but it was a bit of a bummer to write, and certainly would be more than a bummer to read. I might share it at some time, but I don’t think it would make anyone happier for me to share it now. We packed up much of my condo, today- my parents and I, that is. It was shockingly quick work. All of my tchotchkes and Nick-nacks- my Russian matryoshki, my German and Czech crystal sets, my thrift store artwork- fit neatly in Home Depot bins. My back is sore, but my poor dad did most of the heavy lifting down the stairs. I owe him a drink. My mom dutifully helped me deep-clean the place. I’m very lucky to have parents like them. My whole life, I’ve never had to be truly alone. It makes me feel guilty that I’ll be far away as they get older. My mom has already had two hips and a shoulder replaced. I wish I could be in two places at once- Boston with Nick and LA with my parents. They’ve done so much for me- what have I given them in return? My mo...

I wrote this at 4:30 AM last night, so make of that what you will.  I’m about to take on a huge, life-changing event: moving from the west coast to Boston to live with my Scallop. ❤️ Man, I never thought I would leave California. Though I was born in Illinois and lived there as a kid, I’m a California girl, through and through. I love drives along the coast, lazy days basking in the sun in Ventura or Carpinteria, fish tacos, hikes in the chaparral, and In-N-Out. My parents were both raised in the San Gabriel Valley and met at Pasadena City College. My grandparents on both sides all grew up in Los Angeles: Inglewood, Watts, Alhambra, and El Monte. Though my dad’s side was active in the Finnish community and he even lived in Finland briefly as a teenager, my family are Angelenos. How am I gonna adjust to Boston life?  I’m fortunate to have Nick there, along with my friend Drew and some really amazing extended family out in Western Mass. I really like Nick’s friends that live out...