grapefruit is better with brown sugar

Esther heard soft exclamations from her parents as they scuttled around here and there, grabbing keys, opening doors, starting cars, driving down streets. The house grew uncommonly quiet and the silence seemed to crawl up Esther's spine and twirl her hair with slow, terrifying movements. Esther pulled the covers tighter to her chin. She closed her eyes as tight as she could and repeated over and over, through trembling lips "fall asleep, just fall asleep." As she balanced on the ledge that separated sleep from waking, Esther saw her grandmother walk into her room and sit at the edge of her bed. "Let's see here," muttered the old woman who had died two years before. She began to pat her hands down her body, as if she was looking for a lost pair of car keys. Her fingers, which seemed too many for each hand, climbed up to her wrinkled face and began to scratch at her eyes. To Esther's surprise the fingernails started peeling away layers and layers of skin which her grandmother calmly put into the pocket of her grey shawl. The woman peeled and peeled, murmuring things like "mhm, quite" and "just about there now." Finally, she said "Oh good, we've arrived" as one of her twenty fingers wiped away a thin layer of murky water. Almost instantaneously the woman's eyes began to shine bright like halogen lights on the moon. She reached into her pockets and brought out handfulls upon handfulls of the skin she had peeled from her eyes. She held out both hands to Esther; "See," the woman radiated, "just like onions." And she started to laugh. Without knowing why, Esther began to laugh too. "Yes," she giggled, "like onions." The two laughed and laughed and the grandmother began to throw fistfulls of the shredded skin into the air like wedding rice. The confetti skin sumersaulted and began arranging itself into a smooth, milky ladder in the middle of Esther's room. The ladder went up and up until it broke through the ceiling and into the sky. "Come on," said her grandmother with lamp eyes. "Let us fall through the cushion of the earth." And with that the woman threw off her shawl to reveal the body of a brown newt and with her twenty fingers and fourteen toes she climbed the stairs through the roof. "Yes, let's" Esther muttered and she settled futher into her warm pillow.

strange....

http://www.landdog.blogpsot.com/


who knew?

Mixed Tapes

So I'm listening to a lot of mixed tapes recently. And almost all of the ones I have are from boys. which is interesting. even more interesting is actually listening to the lyrics. Cory's new tape seems to be able "the one that got away." Lucas' tape seems to be all about lovers leaving. So my question is: what do mixed tapes mean? Are they like little musical letters? Are they totally un-related to things? DO people not realize that they put more into them then meets the eye? I can't decide. And I doubt it really matters. It's just an interesting thing...people and how they relate to music.

Speaking of which, I feel like something is wrong with me. I'm not as "into" music as I've always been. I was listening to the new Radiohead album and realized that it was only the second time I had listened to it, even though I've had it for a few months. I remember when Hail to the Thief came out, I was the first person at the record store and I listened to it nonstop for what seemed like ever. Maybe it's because I don't think In Rainbows is as good...not sure. When did I stop being crazy about music? Maybe I just have to find a new good band...

Alright...here I come Trader Joe's.

HEY

MOBILE WHO ARE YOU?

There are no words...

...that can express my complete awe. How it's possible that I am the one person who is in this building right now and preparing for the holiday party is beyond me. It's really amazing. I wish I was in a band. That would make all things well.

to forget?

I just wrote an e-mail to an ex-boyfriend of mine and the e-mail was returned to me...david is no longer accessable via that particular e-mail address. I don't really know why I was writing in the first place. I guess just because I was thinking about him and hoping that he was doing well. I know he's not really the type to keep in touch and would probably much prefer that I not contact him, but I thought I'd be selfish and do it anyway. When I got the delivery failure notice I was a little weirded out, I guess I still am. I've never been very good at letting go or forgetting. I don't mind losing touch with people, but every once in a while I like that people remember each other and send a little energy to a person they haven't seen in years. So to know that this opportunity was rendered impossible is a strange experience. How can you just have a person slip from your life forever. Is that what you do now? I guess so. But I think it will take a lot of getting used to.

To Mobile

I do not know who you are...I don't think. and when I go to find out who you are, blogger will not let me see your profile. How mysterious. But thank you for making comments. My heart, she is warmed.

In other news:

Scumble, the cat is sleeping. Cheesy Spanish music is being played while my sister studies. I took a lot of Santa Fe pictures today to prove to the Brazilian Nanny that my sister is getting that they're not White Slave Traders. I almost went on a train ride...but could not in the end.

Too many things are happening that I cannot fix!

It is late and I am tired

But for some reason I cannot fall asleep. Though my eyes are heavy heavy heavy. I'd like to sleep. I really would. But there is something about the size of this bed that is preventing me from doing so. It's technically not particularly large- the bed in the room I sublet is larger. But it feels so expansive tonight. I've tried making it less so. I've stretched out my arms as wide as they will go. I even rotated myself sideways to take up more room- but to no avail. There is a gaping, empty eternity over at the other side of the bed and I can't help but think of all the different ways it's been filled. The backs that I have fallen asleep to. The way someone else fits into your dreaming and the impossibility of covers when you get close to someone else's skin. How you find a puzzle piece in the other person's body and a separate one in your own and the game becomes how to somehow fit them together. I suppose it is a lonely night. How can it be anything but when you remember the people and realize that there are many you'll never see again. Is that not strange? A person whose smell you can conjure up on sleepless nights...gone from your life story now. Not that it's bad-people leave for a reason...just strange. And so that is what I find in my mind right now. At 1:30am. I can hear the pipes in the house speaking. Scumble, the cat, has positioned herself in the perfect place to inhibit me from stretching out my feet. Old scenarios play and replay themselves in my head. Names reemerge. Faces melt into one another. Places become mazes of time and Cleveland seems like a wilderness of forgotten promises. I'd like to fall asleep now. Wish me luck.

Ba Ba

I cannot believe that it is already December. Holy cow.