This is Important!

Hey everybody.

So the time has come. I've decided that this blog no longer fits me- my interests, my writing style, who I am is a person.

I am moving to a new blog! Hopefully I will remember to post more often. You can find me at The Armadillo Diaries- paleontologyofthebody.blogspot.com

Let's have an adventure!

I Am Thinking Tender Thoughts

My bed is large and warm and it is 12:30 on Christmas morning and there are just two family gatherings left to survive and I think I've done a pretty damn good job so far. I'm getting better. I am spending more time with my little ones- they are beautiful and brilliant and they love me so much. But their arms are not long enough to wrap around me, they are too small to hold my curled-up self in the dark.

It's amazing to me that in six years of speaking French I have not yet learned the word for "lonely."

Yes, this is another one of those posts.

It is wintertime again and I am needing to be held. I am missing the warmth that comes from someone whose body is just a bit bigger than mine, I am wanting the irrational feeling of protection that my own arms cannot provide me. I have already worked out in my mind our exact arrangement, the perfect placement of two spoons in a drawer, I promise you that cuddling will be the only thing involved. I am simply tired of being by myself.

Somebody help me find a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or a very large pillow with arms. I couldn't care less so long as ze* can make me food and tell me I'm pretty and can tolerate being hugged constantly. I'm a simple girl. I don't need much- just food and blankets and snuggles.


*ze: I like to use gender-neutral pronouns for stuff like this.

I'm Getting Too Old For This

The world feels big today and I am afraid. We are spinning so fast. Soon there will be nine billion souls trying to glean meaning from their existence, nine billion people trying to build a life in a world where there is no more space to do so.

It is exhausting, trying to keep up with time.

You don't want to know the exact speed of the earth as it spins.

Trust me.

It is faster than you could ever imagine, and it is impossible to experience given that blessed force, gravity, that keeps our lives together. If you knew just how quickly we are turning in circles, your heart would hurt. If, one day, everything was silent, the groan of planetary revolution would be loud enough to hear in every tiny corner of the globe and your ears would be bleeding with the sound of days passing and Suns rising.

I read once that if you lie still on a quiet patch of dirt for long enough you can feel the planet breathing. Press your stomach to the grass and watch as the earth lifts you up with every inhalation, brings you gently back with every breath out.

I've never tried this. I'm too afraid to try it now- there were times when I was fearless enough to entertain the idea, but it never happened.

I'll be brave again someday soon, I promise.

It Has Been A Long Day

I want to take your gun away. You keep it on your wall. Maybe you've never entertained the idea of using it, but the gun is still on the wall and I want to take it away.

I want to eliminate the social stigma associated with men in therapy. It's time to put the focus on gluing the cracks in the cup before the glass shatters. We shouldn't have to sweep up the same shards over and over again.

You will spend this week shaking your head, trying to reverse the rotation of the earth with each turn of your neck, attempting to rewind time with each rotating demonstration of sadness.

Come dinnertime, you will make your five year-old's favorite meal. You won't mind when she spills her noodles on the floor- other people have cleaned up worse this week. Spilled milk and spaghetti aren't worth crying over, not today, these stains will wash out.

There are two funerals today for two boys who will never grow out of their Spiderman sneakers. This is only the beginning. The tears and burials and funeral lunches keep coming and all the roads are blocked with slow-moving black on black. At the wakes, everything is doll-sized. Lilliputian vases line the walls. The flowers can fit on the tip of your finger. You could cradle the caskets in your arms. The contents are so precious. These bodies, these babies, all you can say is "I'm sorry" and know that it will never be enough.

You will remember this day each night. You will sing your five year-old to sleep and climb in beside her. Time stops when you are sleeping. You like it that way.

Phew

I breathed a much-needed sigh of relief tonight.

Thanks to the grown ups who voted for my man.

Last Friday Night

I turned sixteen last Saturday. It was hands-down the best weekend of my life. And interestingly enough, I'd expected it to be the loneliest three days I would ever experience.

My dear best friend, Miss Tickled Pink, had told me a month before that she would be taking on a college visit in Chicago over my birthday weekend. I was a bit bummed, but not too badly. She was to leave Friday night, so when school got out I hugged her goodbye and prepared to spend the weekend alone. Later that evening, though, she kidnapped me for a pre-birthday dinner before she left. It was a lovely birthday surprise.

Except that wasn't the only surprise.

Tickled Pink threw me a legitimate surprise party, complete with the month-long pretense of a trip to Chicago. She worked with The Management and filled the house with my favorite people, and good lord it was perfect. I couldn't believe it. I still can't.

My best friend is the best best friend.

I Love Him

I'm a little late to the game in terms of blogging about the Democratic National Convention, but oh well.

I just finished watching my President commit to this country for four more years. I am so proud of that man. He is my President.

I am the daughter of two teachers, the oldest of five children. My President and his administration made it possible to bring three of my siblings home to America after Haiti's devastating 2010 earthquake.

In two years I will be going to college. And I know I am extremely blessed to be able to state that as a fact. There are people in this country who have had to sacrifice their education to make ends meet. I am not going to be one of them. But all the same, paying for my college education scares me. With tuition student loan rates at their highest levels ever, I am at risk of graduating college in 2018 buried in a mountain of debt. My President has promised to ensure that this does not happen, that everyone is able to afford an education. This means so much to me.

As I was watching his speech (and crying, might I add) I noticed his wedding ring. Its presence shocked me; normally you don't think of the President wearing a wedding band, even if he is married. But that gold circle around his finger made me remember- my President, our President, is still just a man. His name is Barack Obama. He is a husband to a smart, strong, fiercely loyal woman and a father to two wonderful girls. He eats. He reads books and plays basketball and sometimes he even sleeps. He is only a man.

But Barack Obama is a man whom I trust. I applaud the work he's done so far. I believe in his vision for America.

Our country must keep moving forward. This man is the one who will lead us there.

Oops: a Summer in Review

As you've noticed, I took a- ahem- brief hiatus from the blogosphere after my post about poetry camp. This was due to the fact that I am a lazypants and, despite spending obscene amounts of time on the Internet, didn't ever click the New Post button. I'm sorry, I really am. But anyway, here's a list of things that happened.

• French exchange! I hosted my French teacher's niece for two weeks. She's so lovely. It was a great experience, and I hope she'll come back soon.
• Pink hair, don't care: I dyed my hair pink. And then purple. And then (due to a silly school rule that requires me to have a normal-colored head) back to blonde. Currently I look like a Marilyn Monroe wannabe. But I like it, I think.
• Work: Yesterday was my last day of work. I spent nearly all of my summer doing maintenance-type stuff for Hogwarts. It was dusty. Glitter Unicorn and I actually spent all of my last day assembling new tables and chairs for the cafeteria. Seven hours of drilling drove us both a little stir crazy. If anybody complains about those tables, I'll probably cut them 

School starts tomorrow. I am less than thrilled. No part of me is ready. It'll be great to see my classmates, but I'm so worried about this year. It has to be better than last year. I need it to be.

Wish me luck.

And That's That Piece: my Week at Slam Camp

I've returned from what was possibly the best week of my life so far. I spent seven days at Gustavus Adolphus College's slam poetry camp, courtesy of the Fairy Godmother Council. It was brilliant.

This was the very first year of camp, and there were only seven campers total with the addition of four of the best poets and educators in the country. We bonded the very first evening and henceforth became known as the Slamily.

A typical day consisted of three gigantic meals, fourteen hours of poetry-related activities, writing time, and the occasional few minutes of sleep. By the third day of camp everyone was positively delirious. My caffeine intake increased significantly.

I feel that because of this camp I've grown leaps and bounds in my ability as a poet. I know now that it is perfectly okay to struggle with writing a poem because frustration means you care. This is something that I'll remember often, because I normally always have trouble when I sit down to write.

I met the most wonderful, talented, and kind people. Look out, world- I have no doubt you'll be hearing great things from them in the very near future. We are the Fourth Wave of slam- you'd best be ready for us.

My parting gift- five pieces of advice for the young poet from Adam "Henzbo" Henze.
1. It doesn't get better. You get better.
2. You can always pick up your pen again.
3. Your greatest legacy is your friends.
4. You are someone's favorite poet.
5. You don't owe anyone. You owe everyone.

Pockets of Pride

So I'm on the nineteenth floor of a fancy hotel in Minneapolis.

I spent this afternoon with Fairy Godmother and Big Funny Kid at my very first Pride festival.

Oh, and also Kait Rokowski and her friends. Yeah. Remember, my favorite slam poet and lady I the history of ever? Yeah. She showed me all around the giant rainbow love-fest that is Minneapolis Pride. It was wonderful.

I am proud. Proud of this wonderful, supportive city. Proud to know such genuinely lovely people. Proud of Pride.

Happy Pride, everybody. Share the love.

Woo! Pictures!

I've been back for a few days now, and I'm about to leave again. But that's a different post.

The beach was lovely! I had a very relaxing time, although I was definitely ready to come back to Homaha by the end of the week.

So anyway, here's what I wore!

Sheepish

So, um, remember that one time I said I was going to post every day?

Actually, never mind. Let's not remember that.

Anyway, this is just to say that some exciting things are going to happen on this blog very soon! I'll be spending all of next week with Hipster Sister and my aunt in Duck, North Carolina. I'm going to take so many pictures, people! It's gonna be nuts! There'll be a lot of faux-artsy scenery shots, I'm sure, so you'll have to bear with me. But there will be fun outfit pictures, too.

You see, I'm doing maintenance-y stuff at Hogwarts this summer, and in one of my cleaning escapades I came across a box of seriously vintage clothing. I think someone forgot to take it to Goodwill in, like, 1983 because everything was covered in at least one layer of dust. So I took it home, and now I'm taking it to the beach! And you get to see all this fancy stuff! Yay!!!

That's all for now. I'll update y'all a little more on my adventures later.

Anger, Then Joy

This was originally just going to be a post about North Carolina's really not-nice amendment. Last night they voted in favor of Amendment One, an addition to their state constitution which defines marriage as between "one man and one woman" and effectively bans both civil unions and domestic partnerships.

So basically it's an entire clump of suck. I can't believe there are people in this world who still think that there should be limits to love. There aren't. You love who you love, and if you decide that you want to spend the rest of your life being loyal to and having babies with them, then you should be able to get married! Is that too much for people to understand? Honestly, if they were so concerned about destroying the sanctity of marriage or whatever, they should have made it illegal to get a divorce or cheat on your spouse or marry your first cousin. Apparently all that is still allowed. Yuck.

After reading about the injustice and yelling and being sick over it, I made a decision. I'm not getting married until everyone can.

But not five minutes ago, I learned that there is hope. President Obama has just come out in support of same-sex marriage. I love, love, love this man. Go watch this video. It will make you fist pump for joy. Maybe things are changing faster than we thought.

Really, North Carolina?

Really?

I'll post something more eloquent later, but right now all I am feeling and thinking is disappointment, anger, and sadness.

The Poem In My Pocket

I missed Poem in Your Pocket day. I celebrated it by reading some poems, but I didn't blog about any.

So here is my favorite poem. I don't have the words, but I think it's better that you watch it, see it read how it was meant to be read.

This is "Northcountry" by Kait Rokowski.

Flailing for Finals

Friday, April 20

Finals day. The team checked into the Harper Auditorium waaaaay early so we could run a mic check. We allowed ourselves to get excited, even though winning wasn't really realistic. We were going to get second, and that was completely okay. All that mattered was sharing words with people who appreciate poetry just as much as we do.

It was one very exciting evening. Our team read very well. Actually, we kind of killed it. Our group piece was the best it's ever been. By the end of it, the winner of last year's National Poetry Slam was face down on the floor in front of his seat. I'm not sure why, but well-performed poetry tends to have that effect on people.

When the scores were announced, all the teams were mixed together. It was a beautiful thing, seeing students from four different schools supporting one another's words. Less than one point separated first place from third. Less than a tenth of a point separated second place from first.

That first place happened to be us.

Needless to say there was a lot of screaming and flailing involved.

I have no idea how it happened. Four days have passed and it still hasn't sunk in yet. But we just won the first-ever Louder Than A Bomb: Omaha. Slam communities across the nation know about this. I didn't know how big of a deal this whole event was until after, when I learned that Omaha might be considered to host the Women of the World poetry slam in a few years.

My life is so beautiful. There are so many people to thank, the team, our dear coach Katie, Andrew Ek and Matt Mason, Kevin Coval and Lemar Jordan,everyone who made this happen. I hope they know how many lives they've changed.

Curling Up

Today was the first day all week that I went straight home after school and did not leave. It was normal. I didn't go anywhere or see anyone. It was quite the startling change to go from spending evenings in the loudest place in town (the poetry slam) to wandering around in the quiet of my own home. There was so much silence.

It rained today. Not the feel-good, dance-around, summertime rain. It was the graveyard-cold, gray-skied, fog-in-buckets kind of rain. And it smelled nice, but it made me so sad. I wasn't feeling completely up to scratch anyway, but then the weather changed and it got worse. I went through the day trying very, very hard not to curl up in a ball and cry. I succeeded.

Finals are tomorrow. I don't know what to wear.

I am petrified for Friday.

Like wood. Petrified.

Oops, We Did It Again

We're headed to FINALS!!!!!!!!!!!

Tonight was a whirlwind. We rocked the living daylights out of our pieces, people were astounded at the words that came out of our Catholic-school mouths, a huge portion of our student population came to support us.

I have never felt so good about my piece as I did after the bout, when a poet from the other team came to me with tears in her eyes. She grabbed both of my arms and thanked me, over and over. Tonight, I made people cry. And I'm not apologizing for it in the slightest. I know the power of my words and the affect they have on others. It is beautiful.

I'm so proud of this team. We began preparing for this competition as a complete nonentity and now, every single LTAB Omaha school knows who we are and what we're capable of.

But "the point is not the points, the point is the poetry." And we put some quality stuff on that stage tonight.

See you at finals.

Überpumped

Tomorrow at 7:30 pm, the skies will open and poetry will rain down.

In other words, THE SLAM IS TOMORROW THE SLAM IS TOMORROW THE SLAM IS TOMORROW!!!!

I'm so excited, I might pee.

I love this team. I love our coach. I love our words.

We're going to rock.

What makes the grass grow?
BLOOD! BLOOD MAKES THE GRASS GROW!
KILL! KILL! KILL!