whatever, etc...

Mike and I sat outside last night in the dark and listened to a large animal in the field kill a small animal in the field. It was neat.




I think I may be too abrasive sometimes.



shalom.

i wish i were a freeway laid out clearer than a bright day

listening to: "broken" - tift merritt

i feel as though i've become dumber since i left michigan and oregon and settled down in indiana. the people i know here say i'm one of the most articulate people they know. what does that mean? i am secretly dumber than they think i am? ummm.



shalom.

needs no conversation

listening to: "islands in the stream" - feist & the constantines

I've been thinking about it, and while I feel impassioned in the mountains, I feel peaceful in cornfields. I'm wild about mountains, but I'm at home with fields and fields of green silks. I grew up behind a cornfield, I know the scratch of running bare legged through knee-high plants, the sting of loose rocks of feed corn flung hard at tanned arms, the throb of corn cuts at night after an afternoon spent in homemade crop-circles. I know the amity of a darkening twilight overlooking the field, watching fireflies wink on, and I swell with pleasure in the early morning, watching sun creep up over dew-wet plants. I feel small in the mountains, apart from them, swallowed, and I like that. But when I'm surrounded by cornfields, I feel oneness and belonging. Four years ago, I claimed placelessness-- emotional wayfaring-- transience. I was proud to be apart. But now, though my friends laugh and shake heads, I am so pleased to wake up somewhere familiar. The window in my bedroom overlooks a cornfield again, and it tickles me.



shalomshalom.

baby get ready

listening to: "fishin in the dark" - nitty gritty dirt band

I won't lie-- the only reason I have good-energy days at work is because of the midol-- cures body aches and contains caffeine, and, unlike coffee, doesn't make me pee every twenty minutes. Eh, no, today was a pretty fab day at the Bux. I did a good job and my team did a great job and I'm proud of us. Because we're cool.

44 days until the wedding and I wish it was 4 days, despite the fact that everyone keeps telling me, oh, no, megan, savor this moment, blah blah blah. Honestly, I've f'ing savored the moment. I'm ready to get this show on the road. I'm frustrated with all the wedding planning nonsense, irritated with the greed of the marital-industrial-complex, pissed off about all of the gender stereotypes you think you won't have to deal with because it's 2009 but still somehow find yourself getting your nose rubbed in with more frequency than you expected, and altogether anxious to be on the other side of this. We bought a house in Brownsburg at the beginning of July-- a beautiful house with vaulted ceilings and wood floors and a cornfield in the back yard. Mike has been living there since we closed on the house, which means he is 45 minutes away and I am at my parents' house with only one job and lots of wedding drama to deal with by myself. On the upside, my time at the coffee shop is going well-- I'm interviewing (for almost 3 hours) next Thursday for a position as store manager, which is badass, in case you need me to point that out to you. Also, I forgot to say, in the new house, I get a room that is all mine and it is a library. Well, not yet. Right now there is still a life-size sticker of Dora the Explorer on the wall, but soon it will be a library, with bookshelves and an antique couch. I haven't had a bookshelf since junior high. Just sayin. Anyway.

I've been scribbling some, mostly dream poems, pretty nonsensical, with the occasional brutally realistic love-poem thrown in. I've been sleeping a lot-- and I could sleep more, but I'm trying to resist becoming a slugabed.

I'm going to try to post more. My computer is dead and it's hard to find time.

shalom.