this will happen again (or, brooding as prose poem-type thing)

-

You think you’re over it, and it’s a normal day, and you congratulate yourself for reentering this land. You don’t believe in normal, but you’re back to a place where you can contemplate semantics, and that means something. You watch a baby bat drink formula from the tip of an eye shadow brush. Your to-do list says Christmas cards.

Tonight there will be no choreography of preparation and acceptance, of reprimanding yourself for not being a Nice Person while taking care not to pressure yourself to be a Nice Person. You’re just here for some cake. And then it hits you. When they say like a freight train, what they mean is: It’s not the train’s fault. It never saw you. Or, if it did, it couldn’t stop in time. Stopping wasn’t its job. But then the train moves on and you’re peeling yourself off the tracks, a flattened cartoon, thinking I’m so sick of this until the next train comes along.

Comments

BluebirdBlvd said…
Oh, I love your phrase "the choreography of preparation and acceptance." Why does the writing of Xmas cards often signify a summing up of goals even more so than New Year's Eve, the more traditional receptacle for goal-setting and previous year goal-measuring?

On a cathartic note, I'm wondering if this is a good time for you to get a huge package of googly eyes to put on all of your Xmas cards.

Nothing says, "this holiday is odd" like a Hello Kitty Santa Xmas card with three googly eyes (one extra googly in the middle of the forehead) instead of the usual two black dots.

It may not fix the hurt in your heart, but googly eyes are the balm of Gilead when it comes to unthinkable situations, IMHO.
December 13, 2011 at 10:05 AM
Tracy Lynn said…
Sadly, dude, that's what life is, a train that doesn't take consideration of your needs, and instead hits you in the small of the back on the way to somewhere else.
The upside is that sometimes it hits you with something amazing in addition to painful.
Love you.
December 13, 2011 at 3:08 PM
Cheryl said…
B: I never actually made it to the Xmas cards section of my to-do list, but now I'm glad, because it's not too late to add googly eyes. Brilliant idea!

TL: Here's hoping a train full of unicorns and chocolate is coming 'round the bend.
December 13, 2011 at 5:57 PM
Jesi said…
my Thursday (today) is exactly like your Tuesday. except i got hit last night. ha! but one of my co-workers is pissed at me right now because i'm in a bad mood. ugh! can't i be in a bad mood and hide in my corner of the office in peace? what's funny, is my co-workder is the queen of bad moods.
December 15, 2011 at 12:16 PM
Cheryl said…
Luckily my coworker is pretty cool. :-)
December 15, 2011 at 1:58 PM
Jesi said…
i just re-read your/this post and i thought, this is a freakin prose poem! and it is! very beautiful!
December 21, 2011 at 9:00 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

soleil for a day

-
Image
1. cirque love Since starting gymnastics at age five—or at least since reading Geek Love in college—I’ve wanted to run away and join the circus. Actually, the problem was that I wanted to join the circus but I didn’t want to run away. How fortunate, then, that AK found out about Cirque School , where you can lea rn the trapeze arts without ever leaving L.A. She gave me a class for my birthday, which I finally redeemed last night (after reading up on it, I decided it sounded kind of hardcore, and that I needed to build up some flexibility and upper body strength before going—I’m not sure that happened, but a month passed, I was a little closer to reuniting with my left splits and I was itching to take the class). The classes are held at Absolution L.A. , a small West Hollywood studio walled with honey-colored wood and stocked with pilates machines, trapezes, a climbing wall, red vinyl chairs and other items of expensive-looking fu rn iture. It reminded me, I told AK later,...
Read more

seasons of love

-
Image
Everything Cheryl does, she’s totally joking and completely serious.             --AK 2,628,000 minutes 2.6 million moments so dear 2,628,000 minutes How do you measure, measure five years? In new jobs , in boob jobs , in blog posts, in cups of coffee In coffee, more coffee, in coffee, and tea In 2,628,000 minutes How do you measure five extra years? How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love Seasons of love 2,628,000 minutes 2.6 million plans gone awry 2,628,000 minutes How do you measure public places I’ve cried ? In grants that I wrote, and novels on the side   Facebook rabbit holes are no source of pride It’s time to kiss Dashaboo Though he’s sticky with jam Let’s celebrate, remember five years Of making people deal with who I am Remember the love Remember the love Remember the love Measure in love Rent rent rent rent reeeee...
Read more

is weight loss tv kind of unintentionally radical?

-
Image
Hear me out: I've been watching weight loss shows lately. Things with titles like 1,000 Lb Sisters. One of the shows is... 1,000 Lb Sisters. The other is 1,000 Lb Best Friends.  If you're not familiar with either of these shows, first, congratulations on having good taste and not consuming fat-shaming media. Also, here's my best attempt at a summary: The sisters in question are Amy and Tammy Slaton, who landed a TLC show that first aired in 2020 after their YouTube channel became a hit because they were genuinely funny and raunchy (lots of fart talk) and very fat. The premise of the TV show is that they will try to lose enough weight to qualify for bariatric surgery.  I assume there are medical reasons that people have to lose weight before they can have a medical procedure that helps them lose weight—to demonstrate that they can make the lifestyle changes that will be necessary after surgery? Because operating on someone with extreme amounts of extra fat is riskier? Nevert...
Read more