why i can't have a puppy or a baby
i forgot to water my basil plants last night. the only plants in the house. the only anything i need to care for and cultivate. and i forgot.

i have now made three bachelor-esque mistakes in two days:

the aforementioned basil neglect.

my first ever forgotten-glass-bottle-in-a-freezer experience.

the thin plastic container lid in the microwave. turns out it's not microwave-safe. the lid is now a beautiful wavey circular form of plastic.

nope, no puppies for me.

"you know, the wedding."
i've developed a visceral, stock answer when people ask me any of the following questions:

"what have you been up to?"

"so what's going on?"

"how are things?"

"what time is it?"

you know..... the wedding. the vah-deeng, for the love of god.

this is where Post Wedding Shock is born. same with first-year-of-marriage babies. mere days after the honeymoon and the thank-you notes go out, there's suddenly nothing to plan. nothing to obsess about. nothing to spend your days on message boards discussing.

i can assure you i will be happy when it's all over and i'm erik's wife. but if i start to have weekly formal dinner parties, don't be suprised.

oh, and to the person who found my weblog by searching for "bridal porn," i hope i didn't disappoint.

it's worse than we thought
i underestimated everything.

there is no 2 am sprinkler batch. it's actually more like 2:15. or, the worst case scenario is that they change the schedule every night. this is not good for my inner balance.

i am weary. those three shots of espresso (of course, in a tasty iced vanilla latte) have kept me awake, but not in a good way. my plan for this evening is to go home and fall into bed and nap, kiss my previously absent love on his return, eat that zucchini before it dies, and nap some more. and then be refreshed and awake... just in time for 2:15.

everything is wrong.

lullaby
i know i am not in my natural state of being when i feel like i can't get to sleep to save my life, but then somehow fall asleep anyway without noticing. and then i feel like i can't wake up to save my life and my alarm clock just turns itself off like it's programmed so to do after an hour's worth of snoozing.

the slightest anything is a dream for an insomniac.

that bug bite tucked beneath the curve of my shoulder blade.

the glowing neon light of the skyscraper across the street piercing through the sheer white curtains, strategically placed at eye level as i lie on my back, slightly tilted to the left, my gaze and my head drawn to each bright letter.

the whizzing, sputtering, rasping noise of sprinklers. some start at midnight. another batch starts at 1. another at 2. and then a final one just after 3. i'm not sure why the last batch don't start on the hour. i may take this up with the homeowner's association. i need more organization in my life, so let's start with the 3:05am sprinklers, please.

the way my pajamas twist and bunch and let the wrinkles in the sheets pierce through the thin crisp twisted and bunched cotton and torturously dig into my skin.

the patternless red to green flickering of the smoke alarm above the door that you only notice when you avoid looking at it. red. green green green. red. green. red. green green. red. red. green green green. green red green. FUCK.

the way my soul and my body feel when i think about you, not wanting to fall asleep lest i not dream about you.

sigh. they're all gone. even the Sentimental Favorites.
however, now i have comments that actually work. and that gets a rousing "hell yes" from julia.

quick, somebody tell me my site cuddles them before it even finishes loading.

domesticity, setting in
tonight, while the boy is out of town, will be spent reading cookbooks and watering my lovely basil plants.

and there's also talk about setting up a sewing machine.


holy goodness.

god's revenge
as the sun crested the mountains i alone wove the car through the valley and the golden glow occured to me. it occured to me as it mingled with the pinkish brownish haze dusting the sky. as the smoke and the fog danced and brightened with the ever-heating sky. as the city of angels made its sins beautiful. it occured to me.

joan armatrading reminded me i had left behind an everyday boy, the one i'll remember, the one i had to meet, and that moment felt like i may have been in a fabulous southern california jaded youth novel, riding home from some fabulous valley party in the wee hours of the morning. maybe i was bret easton ellis himself. maybe i was driving a black BMW. maybe i was still drunk.

los angeles: i hate to love you.

but this time, he will be the last.

please! take my money! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!!
apparently, we'll be getting a new state budget on sunday. and said budget will not contain any tax increases. not even a little bit.

maybe i'm just one of too few thoughtful, selfless people around, but i am more than happy to have an extra $50 or so taken from my paycheck if it means that the future leaders of our country are in classrooms with less than 50 other kids or battered wives are given shelter for them and their frightened children and fragile lagoon conservancy programs continue to plod along with their maintenance and research.

maybe it's also naïve of me to think that people will just make the initiative to donate that extra $50 a paycheck to programs they feel matter. chances are if i make any extra effort, i won't remember to do it every two weeks.

our priorities are out of whack. and the state senate democrats have no spines. most of that comes from the 2/3 majority required to pass a budget proposal. they're basically puppets until they get their 8 republican votes on their side. gah.

incidentally, i do think that sim city was programed by republicans, because the people always get pissy and protesty when you raise taxes.

grey gray
i never really know which spelling to use. it's the Displaced Person in me.

i have two briefish comments about the state of our state:

1. i can't believe we're actually going through with the recall. ("the" recall being that of california's governor, gray davis.) i can't believe the millions of registered voters actually put down their shopping bags for a minute to listen to the spin and sign the forms. i also can't believe how easy it was to convince the petitioner that we weren't going to sign. he just said, "oh, okay. have a good day." and thousands of loyal californians signed their state away with nary an argument?
2. i can't believe gray davis doesn't just say, "alright, hey. i get it. you've made your point, california. right now this is not about me. let's all come together and make this about keeping a republican out of the governor's mansion. so i'll step aside and let a qualified solid democrat run in my place. thanks for a great 4.75 years! have a great summer. it's been real. it's been fun. TTFN."

(i took out the part in davis' fantasy speech about how he thinks we should find a green candidate with strong fiscal policy - that was taking it a little too far.)

that's all for now.
again, the commenting system is still down. and with it, the motivation.
perhaps i need a pro/con analysis of losing archive comments (including such sentimental favorites as my First! Comment! Ever! and when eric j said, "i love Tension" and when richard d. bartlett said, "sometimes this site cuddles you before it's even finished loading" and so on) versus gaining a reliable commenting system.

i know you're itching to comment. you know it too.

come back, klink family!
i feel so alone without comments. since when did writing in a journal require input and affirmation from others?

hi, insecurity.

in other news, we got our first response cards back last night. one of them had filled in the "special needs" line with "meat." and then "just kidding." but i'm very impressed that i not only have well organized, reply-right-away friends, but i also have smartass friends. sigh, life is good.


i'll write more when i know i can get small doses of affirmation and self-confidence from that little pop up box.

only two days after the wedding invitations went out, and now this?
while shopping for shower hostess gifts (a.k.a. fully whoring myself to the bridal industry) at cost plus world market tonight, i decide to splurge on some cadbury's turkish delight.

not many americans know much about turkish delight outside of reading c.s. lewis books. or perhaps it was some other english writer. but turkish delight is indeed delightful. i craved it as a child, and i crave it now. i like both varieties equally: the traditional cubed-with-powdered-sugar and the mainstream stuff covered in chocolate. tonight, of course, we had the mainstream stuff.

it was definitely a dig-it-out-of-the-bag-before-we-get-in-the-car situation. i needed to be delighted right away. i took a few lovely bites and decided to offer erik some. i cupped my hand beneath the bar as i held it to his mouth to catch any falling chocolate pieces.

after a while, erik hadn't said anything. hmmm.
julia, being optimistic and perhaps even naïve, proceeded to ask "do you like it?"

"ehhhhhhhhhhh," mumbled erik, expressing indifference.
"what?!?!?!" shrieked the disappointed future wife.
"it just tastes like perfume. perfume covered with chocolate."

i'm marrying someone who "ehhhhhhhhhhh"s turkish delight.

but aye, more for me.

official
people are calling. they're receiving the invitations. they're asking for meals without tomatoes. they're saying they love the calligraphy. they're wondering if erik helped me make them.

details aside, it's ON.

as a young girl


i remember this scene vividly. i remember it being late afternoon. i remember that it was just my dad and i, on a walk near our house. i remember the fluffy mauve-ish cardigan. i remember being lifted up onto the wall for a photograph. i remember being uncomfortable with the scratchy brick and slimy moss touching my legs. i remember being afraid of falling off.
i remember that i loved being by myself with my dad because that surely meant he loved me the best and i think that's really what makes my world go round - knowing that someone loves me the best.

withdrawal
it's been well over a month since i've been to a concert. i'm starting to twitch.

when erik and i first started dating, i'd say we spent the majority of our income after housing on concert going and cd purchasing. music defined our relationship. nay, it made our world go round. like a record. right round, baby, right round.

it was a good life. a good irresponsible life. we'd drive to los angeles on week nights for choice shows in small urban venues and drive back to san diego well after midnight while my feet ached and my eyes closed and erik blasted everything but the girl or cocteau twins or erasure or some late night chill music on KCRW to stay awake. the next day would be spent squinting at the computer screen trying to stay awake with my ears still buzzing.

aside from a few errant boot or sweater purchases, music was our financial drug of choice. i'd even go so far as to say it was more important to us than food. what good is eating if you can't chew to the beat of the latest morcheeba album?

but now, we have responsibilties. paying for the wedding. saving up. mortgage. (sort of.) thinking about graduate school and how will we do it? how will we both go to school? how will we have babies? how will we give them a good life?

so this year, we put a little moratorium on repeat concerts. no more seeing the same band in san diego, then in los angeles the next night. no more seeing tori amos everytime she passes through town. no more driving out to the desert to see bands we've already seen that year play 30 minute sets. it's all about revaluating. it's time for saving for the good life.

and it just occured to me. what good is a life without concerts?

more on the passion
i have to call out the amazing portrayal of kissing in "the passion" (see below).

some characters in the book share a kiss while lying at a 90° angle. their lips alone connect them.

too often do we devalue kissing as a form of touch, as a singular expression of physical passion. it can be a precursor to something, a quick emotionally-meaningful but sensually-devoid touch, or a side dish to other kinds of "touching"... but rarely do people kiss to just kiss.

it's such a beautiful thought. to kiss and only kiss. to fully memorize the way the other person's lips move over yours. to memorize how soft their lips are or how they taste.

the just-kissing thing seems so innocent, but really it's dripping with sex.
so is life.

passion
this weekend, i read "the passion," by jeanette winterson.

i have a new favorite book. a new favorite author. new favorite thoughts. new favorite words.

it's a beautiful, painful story of napolean's loyal cook and a worldly woman in venice and how their paths manage to cross and their lives intertwine.

and i read it in a matter of hours.

a note about ohio
i saw my very first lightening bug this last weekend. make that my first hundred or so lightening bugs.

my world is infinitely more beautiful and curious.

untitled II
she had a dream that they had talked about him, briefly, suddenly, fiercely.
she said, "i worry about him"
they said, "he needs someone," and she broke inside knowing it could never be her.
but she agreed and told them how she had been drawn to him in a baffling impossible way at three am on a cold night while everyone else slept but what she really wanted to tell them was about the way she burned thinking about him and that she would never be the same again.

passion is never preceeded by anything. but it bores such a hole - deep, fast, hot - that it is followed by a numbing hollowness. an emptiness bigger than he.

she woke up feeling very calm.

untitled
she had a dream that there were no roads, no houses, no concrete, no metal, no fuel, no sparks, no noises.

they would meet each other without seeing.
they would speak to each other without hearing.
they would feel each other without touching.

they would agree to walk towards the same point. he toward the setting sun, she toward its rise.
in the middle they would see and hear and touch each other and she would be his wife as they make love on the unsoiled earth.

the dirty stuff
is anyone else concerned for my search engine referals after reading the last few days of posts?