aubade, but not really

new day, i love you.

you pull me out of bed, beckoning me closer to the sun, closer to life just-bubbling up from the pot. you tell me to wash the dreams from my eyes. you tell me to make things new.

there's always something mystical about the first moments of the day--what might happen when i walk out the door? who will i meet? what will i see?

new day, you let me catch your breaths and ride them. you fill me with air.

things are right in the morning.

things are all right in the morning.

new day, let me hold you just a little longer. you age far too quickly--your eyes sag, your limbs grow thin. you give way to the forceful sunlight too easily. you become strong and violent. let me have you longer and longer. don't go, don't go.


---

so, that was a weird not-poem but kinda poem. love song to the morning, if you will. will you?

a good day

it's  monday. monday is inherently glum, it seems.

this monday was absolutely no different. BUT--i don't like feeling glum. in fact, it goes against my personality. i enjoy being happy--how else would i be the wise-cracking, always-humming-a-tune ashley you've all come to know and love? well, maybe some of you don't know me...or love me...but you get it.

things always seem worse in the morning, don't they? you've just broken free of the protective womb of sleep, you've just rubbed the sand from your eyes, the cold punch of air outside your bedsheets makes you crazy. you've been there. or, maybe it's the middle of the day, and your job is getting just a bit to frisky. or maybe the humidity ruined your hair. or maybe your mascara's running, or maybe your nail chipped. whatever it is, sometimes, it seems like the world is against us.

but, it's not.

i always just try to realize that it's not the end of the world if a little thing happens to me. i swallow that comfortable glob of self-pity that we've all felt, and i try to think about the good things in my life. i reach out to my family, i pray, i sing songs, i smile. whatever i have to do to make things a little better in that moment, whatever i have to do to slap myself out of gloom, i do it.

today is an especially awesome day--as i'm going to get to hang out with some awesome friends and hopefully plan an excellent sisters adventure this weekend. remembering that things are okay is the hard part, sometimes, but you have to do it. if not, that glob of gloom will cover your whole body, rub off on others, and eventually paint your life gray.

and, although gray is one of my favorite colors, its metaphorical implications are kinda bad.

FURTHERMORE, that gloom makes my writing suffer. that simply cannot happen. my writing is very important to me. maybe y'all will get to see it soon.

chin up, take a deep breath, smile a little.

until next time,

a.

a remedy

more like remedies. for what ails you. whatever it is that's ailing you.

for withdrawals (from a friend or loved one. not drugs, you crazies)...

a cup of hot tea (for warmth, because you miss their warm embrace, their warm smile, their warm fuzzies). the steam from tea clears my mind. the thirst-inducing qualities of tea make me forget about missing someone and think about water.

a shared song. that is, a song you both like and listen to together. hearing this song will stir up good memories and make you smile. you'll move and groove, and you'll feel like you're with the person you're missing.






a humdrum night (where your four walls start closing in on you)...

virgil tibbs. okay, so, maybe not specifically virgil tibbs (or sidney poitier, as he's called in real life), but pop in a good movie or watch something you've always wanted to watch but haven't had the time to watch. some of my favorites are in the heat of the night; hairspray (both versions); a goofy movie; an american in paris; singin' in the rain, mildred pierce; corrina, corrina; forrest gump; a patch of blue...to name a few.

a nummy yummy dinner (and dessert). i find that a little good food (and the time spent making it) can take my mind off most anything. i'm enjoying the moment, i'm cooking up some goodies, i'm trying not to burn my house down, and when it's all done, i'm full and tired and ready for bed. problems solved.


stress (i'm a scholar in this particular ailment)...

there's really only one remedy to this--save talking to my mama.

have some good, old fashioned fun.

take a walk, play tag, blow bubbles, tell some jokes, sing a song, bake cookies, read a book, whatever. just have some fun. take pleasure in one activity and realize that life's still good, no matter what's stressing you out.

the good thing about bad times is that they usually end.

until next time,

a.

assembly

that is, assembly of scenes from the day.

my life is not, by any means, dramatic or wildly interesting, but i find pleasure in the mundane (for those grammar fiends out there: is there a noun form of mundane? i've wondered. haven't looked it up). here goes...

1- the elevator. we all encounter these everyday. but, i've found that elevators are some of the most interesting places in the world. there, you'll encounter frightful folks, hurried folks, and people just floating along. i used to be a little fearful of these things, myself. but, since i've been at college, i realize that these are some of the best places to observe people and get material for my writing. sounds creepy, but if you're a writer, you know what i'm talking about.

2- the street. mundane, yes. but as i embarked on a rather long (and rather hot) trek from one place to another yesterday, something about the hum of the street made me smile. the cars were the same (angry, steaming, heaps of metal scooting along), the street was the same, but i was happier just being around them. this, friends, is what being indoors all day does to a person. you start liking stinky, grumbly hunks of metal and glass.



3- un arbol. only because it's rude to take pictures of people as you walk down the street. it's a pretty tree, but the people in front of me were way more interesting. alas. decorum wins again.

 4- homemade french manicure. couldn't sleep. realized my nails were looking rough. painted them in a french manicure style. if you want to do this at home, all you really need is some white fingernail polish (with an art brush--these come in sets, so you don't have to buy the single ones that cost like five bucks), french manicure topcoat, clear coat, and patience. i painted my toenails, too, but i figured since i'm not a fan of airing out my ashy skin, i'd spare you that photo. :)

5- an army of nail polishes. over the years, i've collected quite a few nail polishes. this photo does not do them justice. it does, however, show how horribly i have [not] organized them. what can i say? i like pretty paints.

there you have it, friends. my life, mundane as it may be, laid out for you. i watch people. i take walks. i paint nails.

until next time (and because i want to stop writing to listen to louis armstrong sing "la vie en rose"),

a.

anxious

that, folks, is what i am.

why? because i'm nearing an important birthday? because i'm nearing an important assignment's completion? because we're having meatloaf for dinner?

nope. although meatloaf's pretty special...

i'm anxious because this weekend, i'm going to encounter the great blue beyond up close and personal.

i'm going to see the last space shuttle launch.

for years, space was a cool thing to me. this, perhaps, was because children love all things associated with astronauts, shiny suits, and little green men. aliens, to me, were nothing more than basketball-playing mon-stars or strange brown wrinkly things. i was not afraid.

then, when i got all old and stuff, things got creepier. big, black, endless space full of danger and the unknown was all i thought of when i thought of nasa, and that ben afleck movie didn't help things much (and did you see those weird looking, disguised-as-humans aliens in men in black?). space was just empty space, ready to make you implode with one wrong breath.

but, i think i've gotten better. i'm really excited to see what could be the most historical thing i'll ever witness (with my own eyes, standing right there in front of it, i mean). seeing a metal bus full of humans blast off into the sky might be thought provoking, awe-inspiring, tear-jerking, what have youl. i'll try my best to post interesting photos and all that for your viewing pleasure. maybe a few poems will fall out of the sky when the shuttle goes up.

here's to a long-awaited escape from reality and a good shuttle launch!

until next time,

a.

UPDATE: won't have photos because i won't be there. staycation it is!

america

you knew it was coming.

happy (american) independence day, folks. wave flags, burn bones on the grill, shoot fire from your hands, watch the stars explode in brilliant colors.

oh say, can you see...

 you know the rest.

ambition

my dad has a beautiful garden at our house. this weekend, as my sisters and i prepared to go shopping, dad called us over to look at this:

a bird's nest. the mama bird was up on a power line, watching our every move as we climbed into the bushes to see the nest. all i could think about was beginnings, renewal, and ambition.

ambition?

yes, ambition. all these precious little baby birds aspire to do is live. that's their biggest goal, and i hope they reach it. i have a lot of goals, too. i'm about to graduate college, so, in a sense, i'm incubating in my little childlike egg, waiting to explode into complete adulthood. i'm scared. i'm perched on a wavering branch, too. i've built my nest over so many years of school, work, and being responsible. the film of my egg is starting to weaken. the cold outside air feels rough in my tender nose. things, friends, are getting real.

but, this nest also made me feel that inescapable rush of excitement that comes with hatching. once i'm out, i can eat, breathe, experience on my own. i can make other nests, visit other trees. and, here comes the unavoidable cliche--i can fly.

okay, maybe that cliche was avoidable, but i didn't want to avoid it. even poets have to stumble through cliches. they're a part of life, people. get over it.

small, beautiful moments like seeing a bird's nest really make a girl appreciate things. standing above the fragile little nest, carefully placing my phone between the leaves to take the photo, watching for mama bird, i felt a strange power. not a crazy, 'i'm-gonna-kill-these-precious-eggs' power, but the power to appreciate life. this is the power people often ignore or neglect. i know i neglect it--i'm such a busy bee, i hardly have time to appreciate the softness of the couch at the end of the day. but, i'm learning to stop and let the breeze cool me, let the grass under my feet amaze me.

baby birds, i hope you grow up to build your own nests and raise other birds. i hope you love the cool, swift cushion of wind under your wings. i hope you step out of those shells and open your little eyes to the bright big world.

until next time,

a.