Keeping Score

Butterflies - 2. Me - 0.

i think i'm screwed.


Conversations with Los

[los:] eeek!

[whole foods check out girl:] what?

[los:] i am buying this christmas tree...for a jew.

[guy in line in front of me:] i think you should reconsider.


Fairy Tale

once upon a time it was good.

once upon a time it was nice. and safe.

once upon a time it was warm socks and oversized sweats. it was poetry in bed and nights spent on the roof. it was bourbon in the bath and arguments over proper crossword penmanship. it was sly glances over a pool table and looks that no one else saw. it was ripped clothing and tiaras and deadbolt necklaces. it was clem snide softly and counting crows loudly. it was talks over vodka tonics while our knees touched under the table.

once upon a time it was reading aloud to one another on a car ride in the snow. it was a phone call from you as you cried alone in your bath tub. it was snowball fights in the streets and late-night texts. it was movies with my head in your lap. it was nights under hand-made quilts. it was back flips off your couch and rainy nights at wolf trap. it was whispered words and dreams spent underneath you.

once upon a time i saw a side of you that i thought no one else saw.

but now i'm seeing a side that everyone sees.

and my push has come to shove.


B to the Third Power

yesterday was Bonnie Bacon's Birthday and we celebrated hard core. the night started off calmly enough, though. here are exhibits a & b that we were, at one point, well-behaved.

we went to helix for dinner & drinks and were joined by lots of friends. if anyone can bring out the people, it's bonnie. it seemed that every single person who came in was there for her party! consequently, there were toasts and birthday cards and the telling of bonnie stories. helix was even kind enough to create a bees-tini in honor of the occasion!

our waitress, who i must say did an excellent job of handling all of us, was also named bonnie!

very quickly, and it always goes this way, the night just got rowdy. by 8 or so we had most of the bar to ourselves, and we were all having a blast.

but especially bonnie.

and then POOF! we had a drink fairy. some creepy guy in the corner kept sending us drinks and, even though he bugged us out, we flirted shamelessly to turn that one drink into six. and then there were birthday shots. (author's note - thank you to whomever sent us those shots; we still don't know. i don't do shots unless in mexico, and i firmly believe that alcohol and milk products just don't mix. as a result, there was at least one shot that was left on the table. but it was appreciated.)

finally, bonnie had had enough and she got up to dance. and by dance, i mean she made us all laugh so hard we thought it was our birthday! see for yourselves.

of course, she was ultimately rewarded with a cherry.

it was a great night and i am just too sleepy to write any more.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEES!!! i hope you had a great night.


I'm Tellin You

if it's not one tall, skinny black man it's another.


my breakfast today consisted of oatmeal with raisins. usually DUH produces the thickest, most viscous oatmeal you've ever seen, let alone eaten, but today it was much thinner. runny, even. somehow, i managed to keep myself completely clean. and, i was eating it with a plastic fork.

self-contained banana with a piece of dry toast, and i look like i need a bib & a highchair. but gimme some runny oatmeal eaten with a fork - i'm golden.

just me then? go figure.


Wondering If I've Crossed Some Line...

i just signed an email to my father "word, the future mrs. mos def"


Confidential to the Butterflies in my Stomach

do ya think you can tone it down a bit? you're way fun and all, but you woke me up before my alarm this morning and you just made lunch a little difficult. despite the swagger you've put in my step today, we don't want to get ahead of ourselves, now do we?

sure, it's been a while since we've been excited about someone. he's a clear departure from the boring and predictable possibilities we usually encounter; i can see why you're excited. twice now our surroundings have melted away as we engaged in conversation, rapt words and locked gazes. and the casual brushes against his arm, his funny jokes, and the way he smelled as i leaned in to hear his whispers certainly heightened your tizzy.

but now we've got to get back to business. it's monday and all i've done all day is read and write and day dream. it's got to stop. well, maybe not totally stop. that'd take all the fun out of it. and i'm excited about just being excited again.


Just a Chip Off the Ole Block

"emmy!!! email me back!!!!!!!!

dont be hatin just b/c i'm black.

peace, margaret"



well, here's one, at least. still working out a few kinks, so please pardon my mess.


To: E. Carlos

From: B. Bacon

RE: The Weave's ghetto quotient.

Please be advised that due to the aesthetic condition of The Weave's car, her ghetto quotient has become unacceptably high.

We convened a meeting on the subject and determined that the remedy is for you to make one of your cute signs that says the statement below. This sign will be posted on three sides of The Weave's car for the next two weeks.

"Please don't think I'm ghetto. My car got hit yesterday and I'm getting it fixed tomorrow. Thank you. If you don't believe me, ask Pharell. We are engaged. The Weave"

May I suggest decorating the signs with some bling to make them more

You have your assignment. This message will explode in three minutes.



i've been without email or internet for the past week, and it just about killed me.

welcome back.

alone in my old, creaking, thunking, enormous house i became a little crazy. and a little confident. maybe a change is needed.

i need...something.

maybe i'll call him. maybe i'll quit. maybe i'll move. maybe i'll chop it all off.

good Lord. do something.