jack.

It was unbearably hot in NYC today & while his mother walked around our store a little boy, jack, who couldn't be any older than 4 & 1/2 took refuge on our couch. He was half asleep when his father & older brother finally arrived in the store and joined them on the couch. His older brother was restless and jack was unable to finish his nap. The father tried to get them both to sit still & jack suggested they sit back & close their eyes.

Great idea.

& then he said the most amazing thing any 4 year old boy could say:

Jack *with his eyes still closed*: you know what i do when i sleep?
father: what do you do?
jack: i think
father: think about what?
me *in my head*: think about what? you're a zygote
jack: ava...
father: what do you think about ava?
jack: that shes so pretty & shes my girlfriend... *smiles with his eyes still closed*

I melted.

Here was this adorable little boy - could barely walk in a straight line, could barely hold his head up - with such pure, innocent feelings about a little girl who i could only imagine is as precious as he is. I couldn't help but smile & be kind of envious of ava - it must be nice to be loved in that way - to be the reason jack can't really sleep at night.

& then he said the most outrageous thing any 4 year old boy could say:

jack *still with his eyes closed*: but then theres piper...
father: whos piper??
me *in my head*: who is piper?!
jack: my other girlfriend
father: what?
me *in my head*: what?!
jack: i like ava but i like piper too but i think i like ava more...if this was me *holds up right hand* and this was ava *holds up 2 fingers on left hand* and this was piper *holds up other 3 fingers on left hand* i would have to pick ava *wraps right hand around 2 fingers on left hand*
father: well if you don't like piper thats okay but you have to tell her...
jack: i know but...
me *in my head*: what the hell...

jack! how could you do this to me?...& piper? how could you melt my heart & then solidify (am i using this word correctly? probably not...) it again & then shatter it into a million pieces and stomp on it with your tiny little uncoordinated feet??
a love triangle?! you don't even have your big boy teeth yet!

Jack, my sweet, sweet jack, you're probably going to grow up and use those gorgeous light brown eyes to get any girl you want. you'll probably write her letters or poems or songs. she'll fall madly in love with you...& then you're going to leave her for her best friend.

boys like you grow up to be the guys that leave girls like me & piper alone on a friday night in bed with a pint of cookie dough ice cream & back to back episodes of say yes to the dress.

-r.

Friday May 25th 2012

On my way home tonight I stepped into a train car full of sailors. All week I have been looking for sailors. For months I have been anticipating fleet week - hoping to find some strapping, young marine to sweep me off my feet & finally I am surrounded by men that fit that description & I looked. like. shit.
Really, universe? The one day I just rolled out of bed, threw on a tshirt & pants that, save for the zippers on the legs, are pretty much pajama bottoms, & flip flops?

As I slumped down into a seat as far away from the sailors as possible, I started thinking about how this pretty much sums up how i've been feeling for a couple of days - out of sync.
I'm not in line with what I want the universe to want for me or what the universe wants me to want for me. Something is off.
I'm not quite sure why.

I've got a lot going on or rather I should have a lot going on, but i'm not being as proactive as I need to be.
If all goes according to plan i'm going to be moving in 2 months but ummm that plan? What is it? I've been flailing through the past couple of weeks - working, sleeping, eating, drinking (1-2 stellas a night, 2 nights a week at most) but the planning?
I'll be in Boston at the end of this week & I should have apartments to see lined up & things of that nature but nope. nothing. i've got nothing.
& its funny because I am soooo excited to move, but I lack the motivation to put the work in.
& this apathy is something i've been battling for some time now. I'm not exactly sure apathy is the right word because I do care, I am aware I'm just not showing up physically, mentally, emotionally...

For a couple years now I've been feeling like I've lost myself.
I'm not doing the things I used to do.
Saying the things I'd normally say.
Loving the things I used to love.
I'm not reading. I'm not writing*. I'm not creating.
I'm kind of just living my life without really living it right now. I'm here but i'm not here.

Meeting Zadie Smith on Wednesday was a bit of a wake up call. I can't keep going on this way. White Teeth was published when she was 25. Shes only in her late 30s now & given maybe 100 years there are people on this earth who could never accomplish what she already has. I do not want to be one of those people.

I need to be an active part of my life. I've really got to take control & steer this the way I want it to go. I can't just let me take it where ever the hell its going to go.

un-accept-able.

Memorial Day weekend marks the start of summer. It will also mark me starting over...yet again.


*the mess that is this blog does not count.

So what do you say to the woman you have spent most of your adult life longing to be?: The day I met Zadie Smith

I was mid conversation with my manager & supervisor when i saw a woman hurry over into the fitting room. She was carrying 2 of the same dress, 2 bags, & was on the phone. I rushed over to help her get settled & asked her if she found everything okay. she nodded without saying a word & looked me right in the eye & instantly I had the feeling that I knew her from somewhere or had seen her before. She closed the curtains & changed into the dress. I lurked around the fitting room waiting for her to come out. She did & asked me to zip up the dress & asked for a heel in her size. I nodded & stared up at her unable to speak, not because I had confirmation of who she was, but because she looked amazing in the dress. I went down to grab her shoes and as i rushed past my supervisor I said "I think i'm helping zadie smith right now! i'm not sure yet but! i will find out! & if i am! i will die!" & i zoomed back up the stairs and handed her the shoes & she slipped them on & was 3 inches taller and looked exactly the way im sure the designer of that dress intended.
(i could & will keep going on about how amazing she made that dress look...but for now i digress)
This point on is a bit of a blur, but I think she asked me my opinion & I went on about how great it looked & she agreed that it was a lovely dress & I asked what the occasion was & she told me it was for a wedding & I said the dress was perfect for a wedding & she agreed & said she'd think about it and she walked over to another rack to take a second look. I took the opportunity to ask her name & the conversation went like this:

woman: ...I'll think about it
me: great...whats your name? so i can...
woman: zadie *smiles*
me: smith?
zadie: yes? *looks at me like im a bit of a looney tune*
me: oh my god
zadie: ...
me: you're my favorite writer
zadie: *smiles* *nods*
me: i've read white teeth every year since my senior year of high school
zadie: well you need new books *smiles*
me: *melts*

I laughed or something awkward like that & walked away while saying "oh my god" to myself. Zadie Smith walked back into the fitting & closed the curtain. My supervisor, L - the only other person in the store at the time to know who she is came up to see if I had confirmed that it was her. She came back out of the fitting room with her bags of books & the dress & told me she'd decided to get it.

**


She watched me as I wrapped up the dress. I couldn't even look up because I was fighting back tears of joy. The calm, cool, collected thing to do would have been to just stay quiet, but she is my favorite writer! one of the women I admire most! i couldn't not say anything....right?!

me: i just have to tell you again that you are seriously my favorite writer.
zadie: aww thank you. you're making me feel old by saying you've been reading my book every year since high school
me: *giggles* its only be 6 years
[since when do i giggle?! never! but i did...]
zadie: ::nods::
me: are you still teaching at nyu?
zadie: yes im still there
me: i went to school for writing
zadie: really? whered you go?
me: southern new hampshire university
zadie: *nods* yes, hmmmm, i've heard of that program
[WHAT?! how has she heard of my tiny school in nh???]
me: *stares up at her with wide eyes*
zadie: howd that go?
me: good...i'm going to emerson in the fall for publishing & writing
zadie: emerson? you should be proud!...hmm thats good. we need someone to save the publishing industry

[ummmm...are you implying that i should be that person? because i'm totes down to accept that challenge!]

we went on to talk a tiny bit about epublishing, ebooks, the pros (not having to carry around 1,000 books at a time...as she was today...& by 1000 i mean like 5...but still A LOT!), the cons (the fact that books are now getting the mp3 treatment aka illegal donwloading)

somewhere in there i managed to complete the transaction.

I said thank you as i do with every client, she smiled and wished me luck & just like that she was gone.

As soon as I was sure she was out of the store & i ran to the front & yelled "i just helped Zadie Smith!" & collapsed onto the front register.
my eyes were teary, my cheeks were flushed, my heart was racing.
I don't think anyone else understood what had just happened to me.

I read White Teeth for the first time my senior of high school in 2006. Since then whenever someone asks me for a book recommendation, the first thing to come out of my mouth is almost always "...White Teeth by Zadie Smith"
That book lived on my desk for all 4 of my college years.
I've read it numerous times.
I've gifted it for christmas.
I read On Beauty in about 2 days & thats only because I had to live life & couldn't just sit & read

I could go on & on about what she means to me -listing all the reasons why i've been wanting to be just like her since i was seventeen- but that could take hourssss & i have to be at work at 8am.

I will say this

Zadie Smith changed my life & I met her today & she was as beautiful & as lovely as I always thought she would be.

-r.


** there she is in ksny karolinas in spearmint green

untitled.

I left the bowery poetry club last month feeling inspired for the first time in years. As I walked around the city trying to let everything I had just heard take root, I wrote a poem...on my blackberry.
Its the first thing i've written since i stopped writing in 2010.
i'm also pretty sure its the first poem i've written since my poetry workshop my junior year of college.
it is about my mother.
& i wrote it with every intention of keeping it to myself, but i think i owe it to her to share this one.

so...

My mother exists to me now only in memories
But that does not make her any less of a woman.
She loved me with everything she had
I never loved her enough & I feel it now in my chest - all my breaths are shallow.
Ask me about her now & as tears form in my eyes I will tell you how I struggle to remember the sound of her voice, how i squint to remember her facial expressions, her thick lips, & her wide eyes.
My mother exists to me now only in my memories
& to my father in my hips when he tells me that my pants are something my mother would wear
in my tone when I have reached my limit & anyone & anything pisses me off.
In my eyes that are big & round like hers
In the scent i wear - he doesnt like it, so i don't wear it anymore.

Perhaps she exists in my sobs. I cry hardest when I think of her. When I think of memories we will never make, the time we'll never get to spend together. The husband she will never get to meet, the grandchildren she will never get to hold - my children.
How can I bring them into this world knowing that in an instant I can leave them alone & incapable of ever getting a good nights sleep.
Unable to find peace.
Needing warm milk & a lullaby.

So okay my mother exists to me in my anxieties. in my fears of after life.
In the simultaneous heaviness & emptiness in my heart.
In the words that I cannot speak.
In my regrets.

Theres no going back

Only forward now & it hurts to take her there
but
she died for me
so its the least I can do

"Dear Mom,..."

I apologize in advance for the ramble-y, in-cohesive-ness of this post (& this sentence), but most times there is no perfect way to say all the things you really need to say...especially when you're an emotional wreck.
-bows-

It was April 2010 & I woke up one day feeling the lowest i'd felt in years. It was a Sunday.

Its still pretty hard to explain, but I was such a mess that I knew I had to speak to someone...& soon.
That Monday I was sitting across from a counselor who was patiently waiting for me to tell her why exactly it was so urgent that i see her.
I was pretty close to graduation & felt like i was being buried alive in final papers & senior theses & post graduation plans (or lack there of) so I figured that was a good place to start.
& it always feels better to just be able to talk & talk & talk to someone who is basically just going to sit & listen so of course i felt a little better but there was still a heaviness & my counselor could feel it too and so she forced me to keep talking and eventually there were tears which mean we'd finally gotten to the source of whats been troubling for the last couple of days [& years].
My mother.
I spilled my guts and she listened & nodded & understood as much as she could through the sobbing. I told her about how I wanted to be happy about finishing college & graduation & my future, but I couldn't because the one person I wanted to be there would & could never be.
I'd felt that way for my high school graduation (which was a little less than a month after she passed away), I felt that way then, & i'll feel that way when I finish up grad school in 2 years.
Counselor let me know that it was a pretty normal feeling to have, but also concluded that i just haven't fully mourned my mother & i couldn't feel better about anything until i finished that process.
6 years later & i still haven't.
2006 is a blur of shock, grief, planning, moving, graduations, freshman year...there was no time for me to deal with anything & at the time I definitely didn't want to. Of course that shock & grief would come back when I realized that one of my graduation tickets wasn't for her. Of course that shock & grief would continue to come back every mothers day. I needed to get it all out of my system. It just didn't seem possible at all.
Counselor suggested I write my mother a letter. She said I needed to say everything I wanted to say to her now.
I nodded.
& I actually made an attempt, but I only got as far as "Dear Mom,"
Thats still as far as I can get.
I've tried again since then & its just impossible.
Its not that I have nothing to say, I have too much to say. I now have 6 years worth of things to say.
I can't fit the last 6 years of my life into one letter or 2 letters or 3 letters.

I was at my mother's funeral & her godson walked in. We hadn't seen him in years, but i recognized him immediately & the first thing I said was, "i've got to tell mom that i saw Rodrick." It wasn't until maybe 5 minutes later that I have that "oh...wait..." moment that I continue to have way too often. That pretty much sums up how well i've accepted this loss...not very well at all.

Last Sunday I went to her grave for the 1st time in 5 years. Once they put the headstone it was just something I had to avoid. Trust me, you never want to see the name of someone you loved etched into stone about a start & end date. Its just too real.
but i'm moving soon. starting another chapter of my life that she won't be around for & who knows when i'll be back & i had already felt like such a terrible daughter for avoiding it for so long that i felt more than obligated to go.
As I was walking over to her I was certain I wasn't going to make it, but surprisingly enough I felt a calm I haven't felt in a very long time.

I think just being there was better than any letter I could have written.
It was definitely a step I needed to take & hopefully this means I'm well on my way to getting to a point where my mother isn't a source of anxiety. where I can remember her voice, her smile, her scent, her everything without wanting to forget it immediately...

maybe next year?

rip mommy
9/13/49-05/19/06

"Its Just Not Right. Beastie Boys Don't Die...": RIP MCA & What the Beastie Boys Mean to Me

A customer said that to me tonight at work. I had just pointed out that we were both wearing the kate spade ny "NO SLEEP TILL BROOKLYN" bangle made & purchased by us both long before Adam "MCA" Yauch's untimely passing on friday. We were both experiencing the same level of disbelief & as she walked away she said "its just not right. beastie boys don't die."
It is exactly what I have been thinking for the past 3 days.
Earlier today another beastie fan noticed my bangle. his girlfriend was swiping her debit card for the bag she purchased & he pointed at my wrist & said, "is that your MCA commemorative bracelet?"
i nodded & explained that i had purchased the bangle originally out of my love for all things beastie, but inevitably felt more of a connection to it now more than ever. He went on to explain how MCA's death was much harder to deal with than other "celebrity" passings. he told me how yes, he was a big MJ fan & yes everyone can't deny their love for at least one whitney houston track but something about this felt different. whitney & michael had a very critical road to play in their deaths, but MCA lived his life in such a way that didn't exactly foretell a death at 47. He mumbled something about how unfair MCA's death seems - that he could lead a life so pure in comparison to others & still this cancer could come & take him too soon.

Saturday afternoon i was helping a woman from australia & her friend from paris with some shoes. i'm pretty sure they were both native to england, but time has placed them in two different countries. the trip they took to new york city brought them back together much in the way the beastie boys had brought them together in the past.
She came over to me with the "NO SLEEP TILL BROOKLYN BANGLE" & asked me if I knew who the beastie boys were. instead of responding with "DUH LADY!" I nodded & told her of 15 year old rudine's seemingly unhealthy relationship with the boys. i told her that the day before my best friend had called me crying with the terrible news & that their music & the beastie boys themselves helped us get through the last couple years of school. she & her friend had to be about 20 years older than me & my best friend but she understood completely. She asked me if i knew of any tributes or parties or anything going on in brooklyn that night & i told her i didn't but i'd definitely be looking for something. she asked for my number so she could text me to see if i found anything & i didn't even hesitate to give this stranger my information - it just felt okay. she stood there twirling the bangle in her hand, reading the line over & over & suddenly starting rapping the first verse to sabotage the way ad rock would, almost screaming. she bought 2 bangles - 1 for herself & 1 for her friend.

The Beastie Boys were formed in 1981 & the lineup as we know it now -MCA, Mike D, & AD ROCK- started performing together in 1982. I obviously didn't exist yet - not even in thought. It wasn't until the release of "To the Five Boroughs" in 2004 that i even gave the beastie boys music much thought. It was the summer before my junior year of high school & i remember being on the phone with my best friend & our other best friend at the time, waiting for the check it out video to come on the fuse network. If it was a really good day there would be one of those 30min runs of just beastie videos.
I don't think I could really put into words just exactly what attracted us to the boys & their music, but it was definitely more than just a need to fill the void that NSYNC left.
I went out & bought "To The Five Boroughs" & within days I knew every word. We each had our "beastie". Mine was Mike D, Sasha's was MCA & our other friends was AD ROCK. We went out & bought every cd: paul's boutique, check your head, license to ill... we were able to quote songs at the snap of a finger. It was kinda strange really, 3 catholic school girls from the bronx, listening to license to ill for the first time more than 20 years after its release & loving every minute of it.
Just the other day I was sitting on the bus listening to my ipod on shuffle when "Shazam" came on, immediately i took out my phone & started tweeting lyrics to sasha who responded as she usually does when it came to all things beastie boys - with the enthusiasm she reserved only for the things she really loved. A couple days later MCA was dead & suddenly our memories from 2004 are bitter sweet.
It kind of feels like we've lost a friend & Adam "MCA" Yauch did not know a thing about us. We never got to meet him, never even got to go to a show ,but just having their music on our ipods and their lyrics ingrained in our brains is enough.

Theres something about this that makes us have to face things that we're just not ready to deal with.
"Beastie Boys don't die..."
Oh, but they do & one did & the other two will & it sucks.
Are we already at that age where we're losing those tangible pieces of our childhood?
Imagine how Mike D & AD Rock are feeling. MCA wasn't just a band mate. He was their best friend & brother of 30+ years.

Wikipedia has MCA listed as a "former member" of the beastie boys. Never. MCA IS a beastie boy. period.

Rest In Peace MCA

*i highly suggest googling Adam Yauch & reading more about his life & his life's work. He was more than just an amazing rapper. Its almost unbelievable...except that he was awesome so i can definitely believe it.