I was brave, I resisted, I set myself on fire

Well it’s been a while, yeah?

I’m still trying to figure out how to deal with Sue’s death, with my life without her. We didn’t talk often, but I felt so loved, and safe, and special with her. She was the most joyful person I’ve ever met. From her, I learned what kind of family I want, how I want my relationships with people to be. I can’t think about any of this without crying. One positive thing to come of it is that I smoked my last cigarette over a month ago, on the way home from Michigan, and I haven’t wanted to go near one since. It wasn’t lung cancer, but it was cancer all the same.

Autumn has come to Pittsburgh, first by bursting in, leaving wet footprints all over and a chill in the house, then by sheepishly stepping back, slipping off her wet shoes and closing the door. The leaves are on fire, and there are pumpkins on our porch.

Driving to the farm for pumpkins:

On the way back into town:

Girls on an autumn day:

Kathryn & Me at the Ladies Night Dinner Party:

this world is not my home

my favorite mom, my favorite dog, my favorite place. i miss all three of them. they’ll be bringing her ashes here, to the island, eventually.

you much change your life

New configuration / wall decor for sleeping area. Hmmm.

will you find me?

Where did my life go?

i’m just passing through

The news about Sue has forced me to think more about my own mom and how she probably won’t be around very long. And I find myself thinking that Sue won’t even live to be as old as my mom is now. She won’t collect social security. She won’t be at Caroline’s wedding. She won’t be at any of her kids’ wedding. She won’t be at mine. The very last thing that kept me hanging on to Christiaan at the end was his family, where I felt more at home, more accepted, and more loved than I ever had in my own. I had always thought I’d have Sue as an alternative, or as back up.

I don’t know what to do with this, with the way things are.

home is in your head

Lighting candles, praying to the angels. This woman kicks a lot of a**, and she’ll be just fine.

there are ghosts

Wow. Every once in a while, I look back to see where I was. Eight years ago, this is how I felt:

i just want to be surrounded by the people i love, i want to write letters to keight, i want to send packages to mandy, i want to make zines with kimmy, i want to talk about poetry with rob, i want to listen to music with christiaan, i want to make love to christiaan, i want to hold onto him forever. i want to cook good things and water my plants and wake up early for no reason. i want peace and i want that girl to stop causing me grief over time and space. i want my heart to let the last drops of anger and bitterness fall out and wash away.

I still want those things (mostly), but I am in a better place, and I almost never think of that girl now. Today I cooked and cooked and baked and cooked more, and cleaned. And in a few minutes I am leaving to warm Koko & Greg’s new house with peanutbutter-sesame cookies. The ghosts are still there, but they’re busy having a tea party while I go about my business.

lady in waiting

stargazer

i’ll be your mirror

I’m back in that reflective place where I’m studying myself, my life, my appearance from the outside. I look so different in every photo.

My sleep/wake cycle has been so messed up. Tonight/tomorrow I’m trying a new thing whereby I set my phone for 6:30 (when I’d like to get up), my alarm clock for 7:00 (when I should get up), and my phone again for 7:30 (when I really should get up). I wonder if my problem is the 9-minute snooze cycle, so instead I’m going to give myself little warning intervals. Also I’m turning off this computer in a few minutes and reading for half an hour instead. Wish me luck.

can we start again?

Windows are open; it’s a little bit overcast, and windy. I slept in my black slip, and this morning I threw my new green cable-knit cardigan over it. With my houseshoes, I look a bit of a mess.

Hot wonderful coffee, and nothing to do. It’s nice. Tonight is Kathryn & Tim’s Cult/Compound party. I keep forgetting that they are engaged, and Kathryn’s ring is a shock every time. Maybe because she never wears jewelry otherwise.

I’m working on things that may get me out of this little rut, but for now it’s okay.

I’m reading The Meaning of Everything: The Story of the Oxford English Dictionary.