Thursday, August 7, 2008

Julie's Here!

Well, in Maryland. She'll be here, as in my house, in a few hours.

For those that don't know, Julie's my best friend. We've known each other since kindergarten. And in the two years I've lived here, she has never visited.

We have no plans yet. I need to figure out the very best of Maryland to show her.

Yippie for Julie!

Monday, August 4, 2008

I must confess

I get an odd pleasure out of seeing ugly babies. You may say, "oh Melissa there are no ugly babies," but there are. There really are. They're still cute. I will say that. But they're ugly too. Or funny looking. And I love it.

It must be like John's love of ugly dogs. He loves the big dumb looking ones. Dogs you just can't help but love. They're so ugly they're cute. You can't blame them. Just like you can't blame a baby for being ugly.

Really, this pleasure only comes when people I don't really like have ugly babies. I think if someone I like had an ugly baby I would just feel sad. But that's never happened, so I haven't had to face that. Nope, all the ugly babies in my life are people I was never too fond of. And I guess it just makes me feel good that some self-centered people got stuck with ugly babies.

I know, it's a horrible thing to admit!

If it makes it any better, I do always hope that the babies will grow out of their awkward baby stage and just be really cute kids. I don't wish life-long ugliness on anyone.

Now, karma tends to bite me in the ass a lot. So, knowing that we do have some weird genes in our family, I will probably end up giving all the bad ones to my children. Then I'll be the one with all these ugly babies. And all the people who don't like me will laugh.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Random Lines

Tonight I am writing random lines in my head that don't seem to be formulating themselves into poems. Probably because my head is just foggy today. To many jello shots last night, I think. So I figured I'd better at least get some of them down, in the hopes that they might become poems later.

Can you not pluck an orange
blossom from the tree
branch and turn it
into nectar?

the brush
of lavender against warm
skin

the cool slip
of a newborn
kitten’s tongue

grapefruit juice on an open wound

Will you forget the breeze,
sulfur and pine across skin

Do you not realize that your kiss
gentle,
moist,
on my hipbone
makes me feel the way milk must
as it drops
and swirls into a mug of earl gray