jennifergordon
Facebook changed my connection to old friends, people I loved from the past. I know who is having a baby, who repainted their house, who's grandmother died, who got a new dog. It's amazing...this connectivity.
Eating a whole apple never happens. I cut away from the seeds, but waste so much in the process.
I couldn't remember the last time I felt whole, until yesterday...lying on the grass near daffodils. Thankful for spring renewal.
Political statements. They get old.
Punk was a statement, until it was just fashion. I think of an old punk I saw in London. A Sex Pistols shirt as he pushed a stroller down the street, chain wallet clanging against the metal. How odd.
I wondered what would happen as she waded out past the no swimming sign. Sure it was low tide, but the tides come back you know. My grandmother was fearless, somersaulting through the waves, singing the songs of my childhood. I looked for shells on the shore.
I have almost finished my degree. I almost called an old friend last night. I almost wrote a letter to apologize to a former boss. I almost forgot my own birthday this year.
I swept the front porch as a child many times. Lots of dog hair. Lots of muddy paw prints. Sticky, drippy popsicles.
Students are sighing. Scratchy pencils on paper. One student is in the hallway. A refused cell phone, a smart remark. I am thinking of all the papers that I need to fill in my trunk. There goes Saturday night.
writing since 2011 · 7 entries · 7 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Ms. showed up.
2longest streak
7days written
1.4entries / week
the words Ms. reaches for
nightdogpastgrandmotherpunkwholestudentssighingscratchypencilspaperstudenthallwayrefusedcellphone