My experiment (searching for the ether of your voice, that encompassing fluid that carries my electric soul from planet to planet) returned a null result. But, the forces are there, acting at a distance, inverse squared, attractive repulsive, fundamental, empirical.

My husband is lost at sea. I've made it safely to your shore, your light-eye beaming, stellar, bright as fusion. But, I'm dead, dead, dead. Walking without breathing, numb to the sense of touch, stunned at the supernova failure of my life. Walking dead. Zombified. Painted zombie life; daily motions machined into the brain with screws and rivets, clicking, ticking, worm gears rotating.

It's a predeterministic world. Born with a fortune tattooed under my tongue, an equation ruled by dark matter and unknown forces, and no universal constants to keep me bound to anything but this null result of a life.

It's time to put this journal to rest.

My audience of one has evaporated anyway, and apparently I am too practical a person to be a poet, writer, dreamer, or otherwise.

So, just fuck it anyhow.

it's Friday, once again, and he's gone, gone, gone--paying me no mind, not a kiss, not a touch, no sweetness for me on Friday nights. Friday nights are tough.

I've become a long forgotten vial of insulin.

I am a raindrop suspended in his sky never to refract his light again,no dispersion,or reflection off these walls,


I am the forgotten sister of his new muse,
With dirty lips,
Chaffed thighs,
Elbows like tree trunks,
the seventh sister he'll come back to when his light goes dark again.

i am feeding you, feeding you
in the dark, i know you're there
across the map, through those blue-veined
interstates, through that rolling topographic
appalachia, down to the parabolic curve
of the gulf of mexico, it cups you,
it keeps your brandy warm in its snifter,
almost cuddling you to cozy,
but you don't get too comfortable there
you're always hungry and you've come to me
for food, it's not enough to overnight
ship freshly baked, hand pressed
cookies with pink sugar frosting,
nor is it enough to hang my most delicate
lingerie onto the diffraction spikes of Vega
in hopes that you'll grab it when she tip toes
across your meridian, way down there, way over there
and I cloud-stared yesterday thinking I was you,
those strange stacks of flat bottom clouds
shape shifted from wolves to bears, to a pegasus
and finally to a graying mushroom cloud
that was ready to engulf my rabbit with stopwatch

To me one of the nicest things about being in my thirties is that at clubs/bars, etc. I don't feel like I have anything to "prove" anymore. I'm just there, comfortable in my own skin. Quite ok that I don't have the "coolest" outfit on--you know the right shoes/hair/corset/stockings/band tee shirt.

I really like being 35 at this very moment. It fits.

Although I was up 'til 3AM waiting for George to come home, I managed to get up by 7AM and had a banana and bagel to fuel for the 5K race. I feel like I had to run this one after all of the races I traveled so far to run--this 5K was in my neighborhood. And the money goes to families who lost family members in Iraq and Afganistan.

I managed to get my personal record (PR) today! I finished the 5K in 25:14, which is an 8:08 average pace! That's my fastest yet! I'm happy with my time and feel that I am definitely improving as the summer goes along.

Tonight, I'll be in Raleigh doing a show with Nightmare Sonata who is opening up for Wednesday 13. Should be interesting.

hot wicks, incense, cedar, and now I bleed when I give my love to him
i am sick with it, anemic with it, going into sugar sock with it,
i am a magnet dropped too many times to ever stick to his hot metal again
broken or rather opened with dull fingers like a blood orange, but he
has no ribbon left to tie across my chest, no poetspeak left
to save the planet from the attack, no planet left to bury your talisman heart
that smolder-burns, but burns all the same
i am feathers and wax fashioned into a flying machine, run
on water vapour and sunlight and the spherical drops that suspend
themselves between our two planes: in parallel
they do not intersect,
so send me a comet with a trajectory that can actually hit this skin
inject me with some primitive rock and radiation, make this bloody
pit inside of me heal, this wound close from the soft decay
of his body as the crater and the impact mend us into one.

you don't try anymore
to catch me in your musical snare
to stretch my belly, these alabaster scars,
like a tam, tap, tap, tap, tap
out a tune, a rhythm, a jingle, a far fetched
shoothing star that you photographed
(with only your memory, but isn't that all that matters
anyway?) So I'm renting out clouds and raindrops
and sending them your way, not in the way that you think,
but in weather patterns that create subtle cloud
stretches and strands that you'll tie around your wrist
'cause that's something you'd do fer me, yeah,
and then ask for a lock of hair
and send me the crescent moon in a locket
to gaze upon when the blue hour comes
hot and cool, sweating, freezing, needing
lonely as lonely as sweet bruises from my kneeling
and prayin' and my running from state to state
and forgettin' that there 50 of 'em.

She back to school. I am now attempting to get my sanity back so that I can be productive. I get depressed when I don't get anything done in a day. So, today....


2 hours of NASA work
1 hour at gym
go to new office to unpack
start on syllabus for Fall semester



cancel XM radio
download bank info
buy cereal, OJ, and bread

pay pier one bill


ok, that's a start.


I really like Robyn Hitchcock, btw.

For the first time ever, I ran 10 miles!


Rock and Roll Half Marathon, here I come.


(12 miler scheduled for Wed.)


Now....back to my frozen veggie bags on my knees.

I've been looking at this angel for a long time now, and it finally hit me...

starhead


wow.

yellow bananas spotting next to the stove
a red tea pot, holds a virtual kitchen in her convex bosom
a half full coffee urn scorns its brilliant blue digitals
lite coconut milk can with two triangulated holes begs for more Tom Ka
7 oranges like the Pleiades await her small hungry breakfast mouth
a whisk from beating eggs for cookies
champagne cork upturned, a green bottle empty from nothing to celebrate
crumbs and oil
a running watch
the dogs collar coiled like a 'C'
in white cabinets, the soft tink of wine goblets as truck moves down the street
buttercream candle aluminum foil
the reminder of the black widow smashed in the garage
clunk, clunk goes the ice maker, whistle
muffin tins ripped of their treasure
a quarter cup of lonesome thrown into the sink

This set on Flickr is why I am fast becoming obsessed with Flickr photography:


http://www.flickr.com/photos/gadl/sets/72157594279945875/

I am not sure why I like this one, but it captures something about my personality. Blurry around the edges.

I knew at the beginning of the summer that Zelda was not going to last much longer. Isabelle tried her hardest to play with the aging Zelda kitty, but I often had to stop her from picking Zelda up since she was getting so frail. While we were in PA, we visited my aunt's farm. My aunt Jackie always has this runaway kitty problem in which she never gets her kitties fixed and there are litter after litter of kitties everywhere. Population control last summer was the fact that her two German Shepherd dogs began hunting the kitties like a pack of wild dogs. This summer, one of the dogs is gone, but the remaining dog just had a puppy and is being ultra protective. That's not great news for the three new litters of kittens.

We rescued Shadow this summer, brought him home to North Cackalackee.

Here he is:







He's getting so big since June. He's sleek and shiney. He's playful and loving.

Isabelle is thrilled.

Hey, it's raining in North Cackalackee.

Have I spent my summer wasting? Sometimes I feel so, but I back track that thought and think that I've accomplished and done a lot. One of the main things I was supposed to do this summer was to decide if George and I were going to have another baby. Really that was the overall umbrella BIG THING for me this summer. In theory it would be amazing for Isabelle to have a sibling. I have four siblings and I find them all to be such amazing sources of inspiration for me. And support. They have all helped me through so much. So, a brother or sister for Isabelle would definitely enrich her life. As for me....I don't think I can take it. I'm a horrible parent as it is, and my frustration with Isabelle grows each day. I will not be able to take her out of daycare again for the summer. As much as I love her, she makes it really hard sometimes.

So, I cancelled the GYN appointment to remove the Mirena (IUD) yesterday. I guess the decision has been made. No more kids.

The next big summer thing has been my training and racing. Two 10K's, a 4 miler, a 5 miler, and four 5K's. Now, I'm training for the Rock and Roll Half Marathon in VA Beach at the end of the month. (& I need to do my 10 mile long run this week! I missed Megan & Lisa's morning run yesterday---boo!) Running culture is pretty cool. Good looking people. Nice legs. Folks who are motivated to keep themselves healthy. The nice thing about it is that folks give you automatic props for being there and stepping up to the start line to run.

I've taken Isabelle up to PA three times. We've gone to the Pittsburgh Children's Museum, camping in the pop up camper, Story Book Forest/Idelwild Park, bike riding at Ohiopyle twice, Cucumber Falls twice (where once she waded in the water and climbed rocks), ice cream at FireFly a few times, swimming, Laurel Caverns, cavern putt-putt, Connellsville park, picnic on the rocks at Ohiopyle, hike to Green's Cathedral at Jumonville, visit to DC to see the Natural History Museum and the Air and Space Museum, (lunch at Teaism--yes, that's more for me), hanging with family during the wedding/dancing, visit to MD to see Uncle Bjorn and Aunt Sarah, a weekend with Betsy and Lucian with one day at the beach swimming and building sandcastles and the other day jumping in the bouncy world of Kangaroo Jacks, and more swimming at the Mackintosh on the Lake pool. Still with all of this, I feel like I didn't do much this summer.

I feel antsy when I don't get to run. I should run in the mornings, but I find myself depressed and unable to wake up at 5:30AM. Then I feel sick all day because I didn't get up to run.

I look forward to school starting back up again. At least I'll have a schedule again and Isabelle will be back in daycare. I'm also picking up a third job--at Entree Vous. I'm doing it for the discounts on the food.

what is the name of the woman
who dreams of the blue hour
the hour of morning when her hair
and breasts are moist from sweat
when the light through linen curtains
from a virgin dawn casts
a delicate sfumato around her curves
into shadow that blends
your two bodies together?

My sister Raina's wedding was really, really lovely and amazing. It was sweet, tender, sassy and sexy. To make matters sweeter and almost surreal, both Raina and Tommy were virgins. Holy cow. I didn't know that still happened these days! Everything went smoothly for the happy couple.

As for me, why do I always feel alone, alone? George got sick the morning of the wedding. He had (still does, too) a fever. That meant I had to delegate all of George's duties to other people--mainly care of Isabelle during the wedding and reception so that I could be the wedding photographer. My mother and step father happily took on the job of taking care of Isabelle. George pretty much sat in the balcony during the wedding and took photos from above which was good.

So, there I was hopping from spot to spot--trying to get the best photos---yet trying not to be too obtrusive. Not really getting to soak in an appreciate the amazing moments unraveling before me between my sister and my now brother-in-law. As I am uploading the photos today online, I am finally getting to really experience the wedding for the first time it seems.

After the wedding service, we checked into the hotel and George went straight to bed. That left me alone to photograph the dancing and the cake cutting and the general mayhem that occurs during a wedding. Raina's stepfather, Clint, had his band Passport come out to play some songs. They were really good and often I was checking to see if there was a band playing or if it was the computer playing the songs. They played some Johnny Cash which was so good. I went ballistic and danced, bounced, and paraded my ass off. It didn't phase me energy-wise as all of the running I've been doing has me in some pretty good shape. Nice.

So what has me underwhelmed? That's the point here, I guess. Granted George was sick, but I really often wonder if he hadn't been sick if it would have been something else. What am I getting at here? I suppose I just wish I had a partner that was fun, got along with my family with ease, loosened up, made me laugh and feel silly sometimes, wanted to spend time with me with a passion, and praised me behind my back and to my face.

To have that look that Tommy gives Raina. Wow. What can I say, I'm jealous.

Awake at 5:30AM. Toast.
Fake butter spray. Extra Fiber.


Ran (jogged) 8 miles with Megan the beautiful redhead. She's a real redhead unlike me. Averaged a 10 minute mile which isn't bad considering. Next week...9.5 or 10 miles for a long run.


My legs feel like limp

jelly rolls


my knees feel like kneaded meat


My evening mojito tastes nice. I have packing to do. Raina's wedding is Saturday. That means back to Pennsylvania again. It will be sweet to see my Grandma Moreau. It will be so good to see long lost family members again as well.

back to dreams of fire....