It is NOT an unreasonable excuse...

     Two guys are going through the audio files of a young woman's phone calls.
     "There, I think it's this one."
     "Nooo, I remember it was around the time we got Charlie to review the calls for us when we were busy."
     They both stop like they reached a dead end.
     "There are hundreds of hours of audio between R and C. This is going to take some time."
     "What I want to know is DID R tell C to either use all contractions or not use them at all?"
     "You mean outside of dialogue?"
     "Who cares about the dialogue! Are we really being this fanatical?"
     "Look she saw us talking about whether or not she should be editing it that way. Did she KNOW from the beginning and this was just an excuse to slow us down?"
     "You don't have to spell it out for me like I'm an idiot! I know why we're doing this!!"
     "Now you're wasting my time talking about this."
     "You brought it up."
     "You know better than to question my authority."
     "Ok, ok, so maybe it was this clip..."
     "If we can generate some point of reference we'll have a better chance of figuring out what day it was on."
     "So, R just went to New York, so it HAD to be before that, which was this last Wednesday."
     "I feel like it might have been before she went camping, or when she was in Telluride."
     "We're going to spend more time looking for the file than she is going to spend going over all the edits she made."
     "Good." They both smile.
     "Just do this right. Tell Josh someone misinformed her and now she HAS to "revise" (don't say edit) the whole book."
     "The WHOLE book?"
     "Yeah, because...ok...really? Do I have to spell this out for you?"
     "Oh, because we want to buy some extra time?"
     "Exactly, we make it seem like she's bogged down through no fault of her own, and we've got to find out WHO gave her the misinformation."
     "Okay, but do we lay it on R even if she misheard what he said?"
     "Tempting, but that scenario doesn't work, because remember this guy is totally naive. He has no idea what's going on and we don't want to give him more leverage than he already has. This is ridiculous."
     "Honestly, that brings up that point. What are we doing? Are you thinking this through...the R situation?"
     "All we have to do is distract her with Joe. Did you see how she reacted to him? I was almost jealous."
     "I almost feel better leaving her with R babysitting."
     "Dude, we've been focusing on this for long enough. Do you even realize what it would look like from an outsiders perspective?"
     "Either like we're friends but we're both pussy whipped by the same woman and the weirdest part is we're okay with it. Or like we have some agenda in which we profit from the hard work she's been doing."
     "Or both."
     Silence.
     "Anyway, let's find the file. We can just turn the audio on and listen to the entire thing from one month ago until now."
     "It'll take us under twenty-four hours, because we know it wasn't in the last week."
     "We'll need juice, sandwiches, and porn."
     "We have the porn. Call Kyle and get him to make a grocery run."

The Ash Tree

I feel confident in my ability to create a good first impression usually.
I only say that people are impressed by me, because I can see that they are.
A lot of people have told me I'm beautiful.
A secret I don't frequently admit (surprisingly) is that my fiancé tells me I am the most beautiful woman in the world, and I think it's true.
When I look at myself in the mirror this is what I see: full, shiny hair the color of corn silk, maybe a little darker.
When I wear my signature lipstick my lips look pretty, also I know how to part them slightly in the middle, like a model.
When I have no lipstick on I think they look a little thin, but I would never admit it.
My eyes used to be almond shaped, but now they are very big and round.
I secretly think hazel is a better color than blue, because when I was a kid someone made fun of the color of my eyes.
The child had blue eyes and liked a girl with the same.
Blue is overrated!
I hate things that are overrated, unless I'm overrated, even then sometimes I hate it.
My body: My feelings about my body change from day to day.
I'm tall, but not too tall.
My upper body and my lower body are like two different countries.
Sometimes when I go out I don't feel particularly attractive, but I know I am because people stare.
I think I used to spend a lot of time quietly thinking, but now I talk a lot.
I have to get my opinions across and share what is going on for me to feel validated.
I'm afraid I might have turned you off by talking about how beautiful I am.
The truth is that I am deeply insecure.
People always leave me!!
I have spent a lot of time analyzing why this must be and I am no further.
What I came to was that they don't like me when I am myself.
I am just being myself!
So if I look back I see how many times I have reinvented myself.
Since it is not how I look that they don't like I feel like it must be something deeper.
Sometimes I know I am worthy.
Look, I know what I have done for people, and I did everything I could.
Somehow I am being misunderstood.
Sadly I don't know if it will be one of those situations where later people see the truth.
I don't think it can be, because a lot of what I've done is a secret.
And I can't even describe it to you here.
The inability of people to see certain positive aspects in me makes me hate them.
It is that feeling of speaking, but no one hears the words, until I'm screaming and still no sound.
There is a feeling of people not realizing how important I am.
I try to show everyone by creating proof, but I finally realized what is truly important about me is not what I am telegraphing.
So what does it mean?
Should I abandon the image I created to show the world?
Maybe if I abandon it the real me can come out.
She is so afraid.
There are people who noticed her when I wasn't looking.
I wonder who they are?
Will they hurt me?
I don't want her to be exposed.
I'm afraid she'll be threatened.
So like a protective mother I ferry her to safety wearing an extravagant disguise.
Talking about it here is a big step for me.
If I can see from the reception of this poem whether or not people love me, maybe I'll take a leap.
I am a part of history.
Not a big part, but I am relevant to the world.
My survival is more important than a lot of people know.
Sometimes I think that if I disappeared no one would care or that they would be happy.
There must be people who know that and what are they doing to help me?
In the past I created a set of unspoken rules with people.
The people in my life must support me no matter what.
It is everyone else's responsibility to accept my behavior whether it be bad or good.
What I forgot to ask myself is: is it okay for me to accept my own negative behavior?
The answer I found repeatedly was "no."
So I am setting a double standard.
If I really expose the truth maybe I want to be alone.
Or maybe the cast of characters in MY life no longer serve me.
I have to do what I want to do for myself.
I cannot go on doing what I think other people want.
They seem to think I am doing whatever I want.
But when everything got fuzzy was after I started working on other people's agenda.
I started lying.
A little in the beginning and then more and more.
And at least a couple people started noticing that the story didn't match up.
I found myself telling a story to people and I started believing it.
I feel like I must be going crazy for real.
I'm an actress, but this is ludicrous.
The weird thing is that I heard people questioning me.
Question marks all around me.
I think maybe I can get away.
If I start over somewhere else and try hard enough the questions won't follow me.
I want to say to someone that I am still here, inside.
I am still here.
It is a miracle.
Can't you all see?
It is a miracle that I exist as I do.
Be happy I exist in any form at all.
You may be surprised to hear me express myself this way.
Someone I used to know seemed like she never caught onto my act.
I wonder how she could have known and never revealed it to me?
It makes me feel exposed.
I don't want this bright light shining on me like this.
Stop looking at me!
The reason I don't want anyone near me is that they begin to see what is going on.
I have a right to be dignified.
Well, not that many people know.
Maybe I can just salvage what remains and carry on.
I wonder if people know that I don't give up easily?
When the surface of the water calms down I could slip into a deep current and be ferried away.
If I already feel alone how hard could it be to start over somewhere where no one knows me?
Enough, enough, I know who I am.
I am the Ash tree.

Getting Hijacked

I'm already getting hijacked?
People get hijacked by their children, by their cats, by their minds.
I finally "let go" of some parts of my past that no longer serve me.
Instantaneously I found myself with a fresh serving.
Sometimes things go on and on, but then you wake up one day and everything is different.
I'm not incredulous though, I'm just slightly appalled.
For some reason I thought I was going to react the same way I have.
I thought, why should this day be any different?
And then I got hijacked and it was different.
Hijacked.
The word brings to mind a serious threat on board an airliner.
I don't know if I have to explain that this is not what I'm talking about.
If you know me you have probably been hijacked by me at some time or other.
It can take forever to disentangle yourself from the mess.
You find yourself sorting through the remnants maybe muttering to yourself.
Cue deafening silence.
What I'm trying to say is I think God hijacked me.
Or one of his democratic organizations.
My part is becoming increasingly complex...I can't keep track of what I'm doing.
I try to remember who I am only to find some aspect of myself taking over and running the ball.
I'm not really very good at defense.
Apparently I'm also not a very talented writer since I'm using football analogies?
What has the world come to.
No question mark.
I am only beginning to realize how much I offend people by being myself.
Offense.
Let me let you in on some more of my offensive opinions and thoughts.
Actually I don't want to be a writer and my own critic.
It cancels too much out.
There are critics on every corner.
Just wait, I tell myself.
Waiting...
My flight has achieved cruising altitude.
I don't really know that many passengers.
Plus, I'm flying commercial, not in a Lear jet.
Lear.
Ugh.
Already we're recycling some of the same faces?
Aaaggghhh...
My modus operandi right now is to accomplish four things, four solid things every day.
If there are some missteps and I only accomplish one of the four, that is still one more than zero.
Which even if you are a monkey reading this you should be able to calculate.
I think the cockpit is filled with baboons.
I sound like a writer I know.
Stop it.
Fine.
I don't know how to neatly bring this together in the end.
You know, somehow insert the word hijack again, and finesse the whole thing.
My blog is hijacking my reputation.
At least it doesn't precede me.
I can't, I have to stop, no moooore.
Smiley face.

Colorado

Black Velvet

Despite what she thought
I realized that just because I didn't use the information I had before it might be more useful now
What I thought came from years of what I felt
So without giving too much away I must tell you what I discovered
I learned something about myself that seems true
My home is below Ann Arbor and I stand there under trellises of flowers
It seems like I'm waiting for something but I'm not
It's subterfuge
I suppose I stand where I got married
I don't accomplish anything
I don't want anything
Despite the lack of interaction I'm healthier than I was surrounded by friends
My closest friend is myself
In the daytime I live through my eyes
At night I smell the honeysuckle
And I am never away from my footprints
I like to watch my shadow shout to me
"You are alive!"
In the prism where I was born I had the same right
But beyond me I only see outlines
I think I know what I'm looking at
But I don't really know
I think I smell the flowers
But I only sense what I remember
To ponder is light for me
To sink into the background is like black velvet
Sometimes I tried to administer false truths to people who would listen
But they backed away
I felt them recoil from the lies I told to get the attention I wanted
No longer
Since I don't want anything I don't need to prove I'm in love
It doesn't seem to matter if someone else is in love with me
Publicly it might matter in a superficial way
Silent love does not interest the people who come to watch the shore with me
They want to know if I love someone else
If I don't, it is proof I'm not what they're looking for
Some days I bend toward the earth
Or reach toward the sun
Or push my roots deeper into the ground
When I love again I will be beyond reach of the passersby
Has my ability to love broadened or am I narrow?
To grow I know I must strip everything from the past away
And tomorrow doesn't promise to keep me warm
There is no promise but the ones I keep with myself
I am only standing here subdued
I may never move again
But I stand married to no idea or religion or hope for the future
I stand bound to a concept
It tells me things when I listen
And I know I am in love with the process
Of finding and finding again
Tossed off are the misperceptions
And welcomed are the only words I truly know
Seared into the soft gray matter
Like strings of sparks and the ashes of stars

In Those Moments

Those moments when something happens
And my first impulse is to tell you right away
But then I realize I can't
We're not supposed to
I can't cross that line

So instead I'm stuck with brilliant material no one else will understand
Agh, I'm like balloon person tethered by people from a distance
I stopped looking at strangers too
I feel it's impolite
Who cares?

With you I wasn't bored, but I was in trouble
Now I'm so busy somehow
I'm pretty busy hating this eclectic coffee shop mix
I've become more confusing
Because I spend a lot of time with my mouth shut thinking

Thinking with your mouth open
Doesn't look like you understand your thoughts
When I write something great do I know it?
I heard the question
But I felt like avoiding it was the best policy

I think of something
And again I think who cares?
If I don't care you won't care
Hypothetically people exist who do care about that which I don't care about
Either this is complicated or very banal

So when I realize I can't text you or call
The final word from above is that you might not want it at all
To give myself pleasure at your expense is cruel
I don't believe it though
I'm pretty sure we could pick up right where we left off

Besos

I see adobe all around me.
This is a different land.
A land in which new characters appear.
They speak to me telling me their story.

I am reminded of how many places there are in this world.
I will go many places.
The architecture speaks to me about histories long and short.
If I truly look at everything with my eyes open I can't miss it.

In this area my eyes transform from sapphire blue to turquoise.
The colors here are bright, infused with life.
Life is not tame.
Wildness is organized all around.

The mentality speaks to something sacred.
In between the cracks and the broken crosswalks.
Inside the mountains there are gemstones unconquered by our hands.
I walk beside you.

You are with me now.
In a way I am imaginary.
The fleeting feeling of being absolutely in control.
I let the ball roll.

And the yet unsatiated parts.
Prisoner to some inconcrete, unapproachable obstacle.
I'm searching to fill that last small void.
Before I depart and find another need to meet.