“They say love is blind...and marriage is an institution. Well, I'm not ready for an institution for the blind just yet.” -Mae West

there's nothing particularly poetic or interesting about what i have to say today. i just felt like updating, and what a better way to update than to rant- or at least vent a little penned up steam.

my best gal friend from high school is getting married on saturday. many of you know this, as i've been wrapped up in the planning for months now and it has made an obvious mark on my soul. i'm happy to see her so happy, you know, despite being a little jealous and a lot terrified. yes, absolutely, completely terrified. no one seems to understand why all of a sudden that is the emotion i'm having. shit, i don't really understand it either. plenty of friends are married now- it's all the rage, who else is getting on board? so why this time am i filled with the urge to skip out on the whole thing- toss my lovely, stem green, silk tricotine dress and flawless pink silk stilettos into a suitcase and take them away to someplace far more inviting and far less spectacular? i really don't know. i don't know a lot of the reasons why i've been feeling so removed and distant from the happiness surrounding her, or any of my newly married friends for that matter.

part of me can't get over how young we still are, and how i've always pictured these wonderfully grand lives for us all. i guess i really didn't look at everyone's collective future realistically. i mean seriously, how could i have ever expected that every girl i knew from high school through college would turn out to be a fabulously successful woman doing brilliant things in extraordinary places? it's one thing to hope that for yourself- and i do- perhaps to a fault sometimes. but to think that everyone would have the same goals and priorities was particularly naive of me. yes, quite naive.

i'm not saying that marriage at our age is a curse or a submission to the ordinary. please, don't misinterpret. what i am saying is that i can't imagine, at this point in my life, being ready to combine, compromise, and content myself with another person- forever. i want more time to be selfish and discover everything awful and wonderful about myself- by myself- and i think we all deserve that. it feels like everyone has decided not to know themselves anymore or to push for something outside of what they know. like comfort led the the next step- staying comfortable. i can't understand.

i'm like a lost little puppy in tornado of taffeta.

listen slowly

this morning i listened slowly.
i listened and i felt what i heard
i heard what i felt when i listened
so slowly that time stood still.

i found that every day is
the start of something beautiful.

"when the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object." - milan kundera

i haven't written in a while. i've been full- preoccupied.

laying in bed the other night i found myself thinking: this has become a common occurrence. laying there, still clothed- awake. darkness and quiet, or as quiet as it gets on that busy urban line. i don't know if it's sadness in those moments that keeps me listening to my breath. is it sadness or loneliness or knowing that the air is settling into the cracks of my empty three rooms?

cats move without noise, like ghosts passing through walls, like wind carrying souls. alone with my self-

self, hello.

- his silence is audible. a pebble perhaps? stuck in the sweet, pink pads, click-clacking on hardwood. (there's a joke in there, only the kindred know.) i wish he knew i was listening, that my attention was his, only. for a moment it was, but then: breath. traffic. darkness.

it's almost tactile. no, not almost- is. i can feel everything: the softness of linens far past-due for washing, the prick of feathers pushing toward fresh air; comfort versus restraint. yes. on the outside there is both comfort and restraint, their game of hide and seek. it's everywhere these days: that frayed thread, that unlaced shoe, that matted mess of twine.


marc chagall

dew

night settles down.
onto and into the grass,
day's rinse and runoff rests.
hours of sorrow and fancy
cooled, reconciled, afresh.

lists

i am a maker of lists.

they are not "to do" lists so much as items of importance or significance that i happen to arrange in a vertical manner. i have a terrible time accomplishing things once those things are introduced in list form. therefore, the "to do" list generally turns out to be a "to don't" and i am often left with feelings of shame and disappointment. instead of listing tasks that need accomplishing, i write down things that make me happy or that i find interesting or unusual. i keep the very best lists in two places: those created by way of computer reside in a folder on my desktop which is aptly named "lists" and others which are written on receipts, napkins, post-it notes (i hate post-it notes), and other scraps of paper are stored in an old blue and white tin that used to house my great grandmother's little tools and chisels. she carved and whittled doll house furniture with those little tools which i wish were still around for me to appreciate. time taketh away...

anyway, a list for today.

squint
crackle
exhale
swirl
glint
callus
divine
pinch
bust
fleck
scoot
cricket
relish

on seasons, getting older, and new acquisitions

spring, like autumn, is liminal. it is neither warm nor cool, and yet sometimes both. betwixt and between: like yoruba adolescents engaged in initiation rites- they are neither child nor adult, neither alive nor dead. the spring is an awakening and the autumn a slow death. i have never understood those who say, "i love the fall!" as i cannot find the same emotion to describe the falling away of light and life. summer and winter are definite- concrete in their opposition. there are those whom we so affectionately call "snow bunnies", and yet we all gravitate toward heat like moths to a flame- basking in the snug cocoon of blankets, fire, and sunlight. air conditioning (that devil's creation) is a curse designed to freeze away the blessing of summer: hot, wet, sexy heat. i long for july and august afternoons- lazing about with sticky thighs and flushed cheeks, sweaty knees and dirty toes.

i miss the summer whenever it's not summer. i hate fall almost as much as i hate winter because it is a constant premonition of fearful, dreadful events: snow. i never thought much of spring, except that spring always comes before summer and that, of course, makes me happy. this spring i have become acutely aware of what the season is all about: pollination. i have never experienced allergies of any sort, aside from a mild reaction to our furry feline friends (which i have ignored for my entire life). for the last week i've been an ear/nose/throat doctor's dream- a congested, sniffley, sneezy, mess. friends have offered kind advice on medicines and homeopathic remedies but not much has worked to alleviate the symptoms. i'd like to go back to when i thought people were whiney babies for complaining about their allergies. i don't like feeling their pain. but that's what happens when you get older. and no, i'm not saying i'm old by any stretch- just getting older. it happens and things change, i just didn't realize they'd change so fast. so it goes, i guess.

so that leads me here. inspired by the recent onset of seasonal nasal allergies, here is a list of my most recent acquisitions:

an acute dislike for cucumbers and/or anything cucumber scented.
constant neck pain- on the left side only.
the complete inability to wake up earlier than 7:30am or later than 9:00am.
back fat (eww, but seriously...)
financial responsibility!
debt (seems you can't manage one without the other).
an indescribable fear of driving on 84 west at night and/or during traffic.
gray hair. ok, more gray hair.
bad hearing and even worse vision.
sun spots (we'll call 'em freckles cuz' that sounds cuter).
a lust for older, balding men.
and finally, more understanding, patience, and respect-
for myself.

another new blog

hi friends! welcome to another new blog written by someone you know, or hope to know more thoroughly.

i've been putting this off for quite some time, despite encouragement from influential people like andrea henchey, who, if you don't know, is an amazing writer to whom i cannot be compared. i was reading linda mack's blog this morning and it always makes me smile- she really writes the way she talks and it tickles me to hear her adorable voice narrating in my head as i read. everyone has a blog on blogger and it has occurred to me many times that i should jump aboard but i'm always too... distracted/ambivalent/(insert adjective here) to do anything about it. today the "create blog" link at the top of the page was screaming at me so i said to myself, "lydia dear, get it over with. it could be a good thing." so here i am, with a blog of my own.

"what to do with it?" i ask. well, self... how about you lay some ground rules- for the readers, mostly, since it's my blog and i can do whatever i want (including breaking "ground rules").

first, i never capitalize anything unless it's necessary for emphasis. it's not an e.e. cummings rip off, i just... do it. don't question me on this, as i have no good explanation outside of i prefer the look of lower to upper case. i'm a type geek, it's my prerogative and i'm sticking to my guns.

secondly, you may be asking yourself why i chose to entitle this blog "ellipsis ampersand asterisk". well again, i'm a type geek and i really just love that simple punctuation marks have such interesting and mellifluous names! plus, i'm imparting a little wisdom on people who don't know the actual names of either "..." or "&" or "*". one more thing- ellipses contain just three periods...

i digress.

this is a place to find rantings, ravings, loves, hates, passions, accounts, events, thoughts, dreams, and anything else my little heart pleases to post. i hope you'll make a point to stop by now and again.

ex's and oh's!

lydia.