Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Eye Games

Sometimes my eyes play tricks on me. 

Not big ones, well sometimes- like that one time I tried to buy a dress at the store that I thought cost $48 dollars, which would have been a bargain, but really it was $84 so I had to tell the lady-with-a-nose-ring-behind-the-counter "no thank you" and that was kind of awkward, 

but usually they are pretty subtle. 

Like yesterday I was walking in my kitchen. And I really wanted an avocado. so I start looking through my fridge. I pick out a container of feta cheese- its expired. Out of the corner of my eye- for an instant- I see an avocado. So I drop the feta- literally it falls all over my kitchen floor- and I race over to the counter, mouth watering in anticipation of this gorgeous avocado.... and then I get there and there is no avocado! 

too keep my eyes in good shape I pluck strands of my hair and squint to determine the color. It's hard to tell if I am right though, because each strand seems to be a different color. Some are really dark brown, some are red, some are brown at the top but then red at the bottom. 

Someone once told me they saw I had gray hairs.

I have yet to find one, although, I once found a platinum blonde hair.. I didn't believe it came from my own head so I had to pluck a few more and compare their consistencies. 

Really, my eyes should be good and sharp.. but I think they just get bored and team up with my mind to play tricks on me. 

Thursday, October 30, 2008


Working with kids is hard. They require at least three times the amount of attention, reassurance, support and instruction as an adult. 

sometimes it really wears me out.   

Say I've planned an activity that I think will last an hour. I careful map everything out ahead of time, perfecting every little detail so that the whole thing will run smoothly. - Then comes time for the kids to do the activity and it takes 5 minutes. All of a sudden all of the work I've done to prepare is strewn across the floor in a frenzy of expedient childhood creativity. It's almost heart breaking.

And just as the prospect of cleaning up yet another mess begins to make my blood sugar drop and my stamina fade, the kids dash to the next game, project or source of amusement with enough energy to begin a marathon. 

It makes me feel like a donkey in a room full of energizer bunnies. 

But its not all bad. Every now and then I have a moment. A moment where the kids prove me wrong- like when I assume they wont understand but they do. A moment in which they show signs of maturity- like when the console each others fears. A moment where they are more in touch wit their natural human instincts than many modern adults- like when they cry, laugh or just smile because thats what the world is begging them to do. 

Simply by looking past the paint smears, and into those wide 6 year old eyes   I see their brains processing, their minds racing and their emotions projected. 

They know more than I ever could have guessed.

They perceive the world in a way tainted by juice boxes and step stools, true. But they still perceive it. 

Little kids have the ability to see the bright side of everything. 

When it rains they welcome the fresh pools as stomping ground. 

When they fall they laugh it off as the best joke in the world. 

And despite the drained energy and unappreciated time, at the end of the day I can't help that its not me teaching them, But them teaching me. 

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


He rolls his selves  exactly half way up his arms everyday of the year. 

No matter the season, his  fingers, his hands, his wrists and that select 4 inches of skin- all remain exposed. 

When the cold comes in,  I tug my shirt sleeves down past my fingernails; while he passes by seemingly immune to the fact that his arm hairs are reaching new heights. 

in the thick, damp heat, the sweat collects beneath his cotton stripes, fighting to escape from perfectly folded exits. 

He's consistent I'll give him that- but he's stubborn too. 

Why can't he see that its okay to indulge in the protection of a nice winter sweater. He doesn't have to make things hard from himself. Does he desire no luxuries? Has he already lost feeling?

Why must he force his body to cry beneath the disguise of a button down. One must be comfortable in order to have fun.  He deserves to escape into a comfortable T-shirt.

At the end of the day it's his call.

He could indulge if he wanted to. He could be comfortable if he wanted to. He could have feeling if he wanted to.

But he'll choose to stick with the routine.

Find the Feeling

( Direction advice: Your friend asks you how you'll make an important decision)

I'm looking for a feeling.

a prickle in my toes

a buzz in my ears

a pinch in my stomach

I'm looking for an undeniable sign 

a mark so irresistible it will stop me in my tracks,  look me in the eye,  and with a smirk, literally say 

" you've found me" 

but what if I can't go looking for it?

maybe I'm trying to hard to find it- to feel it. 

What if it has to find me?

I guess I'll have to wait.

Wait, and wonder, and wash my mind free of worry. Because if I worry, then for certain I'll be trying to hard. 

You can't force a feeling after all.. 

I want to know that what I want , wants me back. And that we are meant to coexists. 

In fact, now that I think about it, the whole process has got to be a natural collaboration.

When I find the feeling the feeling will find me. And I am certain I will know it. 


I wished on my first balloon when I was six. 
My best friend at the time was a stuffed puppy named wizard. I lost wizard at a movie theater the night before my birthday. I was devastated. To try and cheer me up my parents filled my room with balloons. red ones. Well, although it was incredibly cool- I was still upset. 
So my mom took my hand, and wrapped my little fingers around a balloon string. We walked outside to an open area and she instructed me to release my balloon and make a wish.   I wished I would never have a best friend leave me again.     
This became a tradition. Every year I make a wish.
 I clench the string tightly, close my eyes and translate my wish through nothing other than brainwaves. Pure, Imaginative creative beautiful brainwaves.  And once I am content with my wish, I let go.   My red balloon leaves my hand and floats up into the air- Taking  my most personal desires on a journey threw the clouds and to the stars.
 Wishes are powerful things. If your not careful, you may waste one.  I mean you may not realize at the time,because the thing your wishing for could be so Good if you had it here and now. However, in the long run wasteful wishes don’t do you any good.   I don't usually wish for material  goods. Its too narrow. Either you get it , or you don't... but then later on you might ...and you may not even want it anymore. I wish for feelings and experiences. I wish for satisfaction. I see no limit on wishing- If you can think it, and believe it, then the sky is the limit. pun intended.
Wishes inspire. They motivate They make you take time and actually think about what you desire and what needs to happen to make your dreams come true.


Monologues come in handy more often than one would think. Wether it be for theater studies, acting class or an audition; its always good to have a monologue prepared and ready.

As a writer ( with creative ADD) I create more ideas than I have time to elaborate on. So, here I present my self standing monologues, without a story to live in. 

Feel free to read, comment and try them on!

Kind of like recycling right?

Much Love,