My favorites

My nephews, Luke and Sam, are coming to hang out at our apartment this Saturday for a few hours while everyone else goes to Maren and Mark's piano recital. I'm looking forward to it. They're cute boys and it'll be fun to have them around for a little bit. I think we'll make cookies and watch "Up."

Congestion

The truth of the matter is that my noggin is irritable and when I lean my head back too far it feels like my throat is closing in fatly on itself and I'd rather just be at home sleeping and watching Sandra Lee's Semi-Homemade cooking (even though most things she makes look pretty darn disgusting) and then maybe I want to go to Star Bucks for a hot chocolate that is too big and too bitter and too hot to drink with ease (and without scalding my mouth) and my sinuses are screaming we're-on-fire-we're-on-fire-help-us-oh-please and my nose is so rosy it looks like somebody punched me with a fistful of red paint and I've applied chapstick about eight times today already but my lips absorb all that moist wax too fast and I want to sneeze eight times in a row and I'm feeling rather sorry for myself and and and and ...

Eat

Today I remembered that I like to cook. Mostly, I like to cook because I like to eat good food.

I remembered that this past summer we ate good food a lot. Because I had time to plan meals. And we often had friends over for dinner.

I should really plan meals so we can eat for real again.

That would be good.

I also remembered how I've been craving what I got at Rooster the last time we went:

-Shrimp ramen with zucchini, tofu, shiitake mushrooms, peppers, and tom yum paste. (But maybe I'd go without the shrimp)

-Pork and chive dumplings (gyoza, basically)

Almond boba bubble drink

I'm hungry.

Tracy Chapman

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
But me myself I got nothing to prove

You got a fast car
And I got a plan to get us out of here
I been working at the convenience store
Managed to save just a little bit of money
We won't have to drive too far
Just 'cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living

You see my old man's got a problem
He live with the bottle that's the way it is
He says his body's too old for working
I say his body's too young to look like his
My mama went off and left him
She wanted more from life than he could give
I said somebody's got to take care of him
So I quit school and that's what I did

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so we can fly away
We gotta make a decision
We leave tonight or live and die this way

I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car
And we go cruising to entertain ourselves
You still ain't got a job
And I work in a market as a checkout girl
I know things will get better
You'll find work and I'll get promoted
We'll move out of the shelter
Buy a big house and live in the suburbs
You got a fast car
And I got a job that pays all our bills
You stay out drinking late at the bar
See more of your friends than you do of your kids
I'd always hoped for better
Thought maybe together you and me would find it
I got no plans I ain't going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving

You got a fast car
But is it fast enough so you can fly away
You gotta make a decision
You leave tonight or live and die this way

Sunrise, sunrise, looks like morning in your eyes

A few minutes ago I read something somewhere about mornings. Or maybe the word "morning" was mentioned just in passing. Which got me thinking.

Morning and I have a very inconsistent relationship. Kind of like that one guy you liked for too long. One day you hate him, the next day you love him. Total despair, fragile exultation, total despair, fragile exultation. Repeat.

So yeah, Morning is kind of like that.

There are days when I'm up early and walking to class when it's still kind of dark and it's cold and I'm crossing my fingers that some car doesn't plow me down in the crosswalk--and I think that Morning is the best time of day. Or when I'm waiting to meet someone at 8am in the east end of the JKB and I'm so glad that I arrive first. Because that means I can sit on a bench. It's quiet. I'm alone. And heat that was contained in my jacket is free to slough off my body in gentle, invisible ripples. I hold Morning in my cupped hands and breathe it in like blossoms in April. Then Morning is good.

But sometimes Morning and I don't get along. Morning arrives too soon, coming in without knocking. Sometimes Morning rudely taps her forefinger on my head until I open my eyes and admit she's there. She brings with her the anxiety and panic that keep me awake at night--when I don't want to fall asleep because it means waking up. Or Morning acts like she did today. She makes my throat thick and sore. She sends cloudy, painful waves through my head, she stiffens my shoulders. Then Morning is the time of day I dread the most.

I used to be more of a "night person." I guess now I'm a "morning person." But mostly by default. I'm not good at staying up late.