Uh-Oh

When love consumes you, I mean really really gets to you. Seeps inside your pores and infiltrates your blood stream. When it's the space between each thought and the breath you hang on to drift to the next word in your sentence. When it's like that, it might as well be like this...

...like a deep sigh. Like, "Its just me and you kid."

(©2009 Lotus B.)

19 Days to Implode

So it's been an interesting week. The tic-tocking of my own imagination making the moment slow to a crawl. I've been trying to get some "packing" done...or at least some thorough throwing away(ing?)... This is usually my favorite part of moving. An excuse to traipse through my taped-up boxes and flip through old journals. I read an entry from my 99-03 journal about the day I met Valentine. Fittingly, the very next entry (a week later) was about our first argument. Old photos, old birthday cards, old notes I used to pass back and forth with Hoody in science class. Neatly packed again, shipped again, unpacked again.

I'm beginning to hope this time will be the last of the moves. The nomad is reformed. She seeks a place to lay her shit, let the dust settle around it and create grooves on the floor. She's said this before...but maybe it's within reach now.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Nothing, Nevermind.

I know I can be pretty vague when it comes to blog posts...usually it's because I'm trying to spare some one's (or several people's) feelings... But the question as of late seems to be "Are you going to NYC?"

New York was never a question. Ever since my room mate from hell conjured up the idea of leaving my California life behind and starting anew in the big city...New York has become a part of my salvation. Almost like a safety blanket. When I left CA, I was also running away from D...the man I could never understand...and who could never really understand me. Then New York became the thing that took me from my family and this man I gave up on too fast. I returned to him...but somewhere along the way realized that I had left out of fear. Fear of loosing him, fear of taking on more than I could handle...fear of being broke. I looked around Houston and it hit me like a ton of bricks... "Hell no.." it said, "wrong city, bitch."

So I made my plans of escape. Back to New York...back to my BFF...back to Brooklyn and crazy weather and incredible nights out and snow boots and subways. I had absolutely nothing distracting me as I piled my things onto a truck and moved into my temporary apartment in Houston. All I had to do was wait it out.

Nothing is ever that simple. Between falling back in love with my ex (Valentine- who lives in California), recently loosing my Grams and missing the crap out of my family...suddenly I wondered if New York was the right choice after all. Career-wise it was the smartest move I could pull. But what about my heart? Asking Valentine to come with me seemed like the best thing to do. But what if he doesn't go? As he teeters on the edge of yes or no...I'm stuck in limbo. Do I put New York on hold and soak up family and love...possibly (and finally) having my own little world with someone who really understands me? Or do I stay the nomadic girl I've always seemed to be...shrugging off my feelings and keeping my tires pointed East?

It's because of this dilemma that I say "Meh" when people ask me when or where I'm moving. It's because of this that once again I feel like an old CD that keeps skipping right before the outro. I'm torn between love of self and love of others. Between needing this man in my life and needing to stick to my plan... Either way I'm leaving Houston in 28 days.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

The Hair-Pullers Retreat

Mad respect to my man's ex....I was surprised (and relieved) to witness her kind gesture via email yesterday. She had plenty of reason to be hostile, but eventually the claws got put away. I have to shout it out because as always, I give props where props are due. She probably won't read this, but to all those ladies out there who grudge their man's ex or their ex's lady.... put it down and let it go.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Let the Insomnia Begin

I'm vulnerable. And 15 minutes ago I told my ex (Valentine) he could come by my mom's. He called last night and left a message, his voice trembling from the news. He knew I was in pain. And he told me things I forgot as soon as they hit my ear drum because my mind couldn't hold them, but their rhythm...their tone was translated as comfort. I appreciate it, even though it doesn't change what happened between us. I guess yesterday I kind of wished I had a man to hold me. Even if it's by the arms of a man I left behind. Belonging to no one makes this feeling suck worse. And I know the silence of Houston will drive me insane.

I'll soak up noise while I have it.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

Death of a Blackberry

I suppose that'll teach me to be so damned dependant on my blackberry...

It all began last week when Valentine attempted to call me. I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone which had just lit up like a birthday cake, but couldn't show an incoming call or message because of that annoying little hour glass that was infinitely flipping over and over, as if I was somehow inconveniencing it with my silly phone calls. "Hold on a min..I SAID HOLD ON A MINUTE!" it seemed to say as I bit my bottom lip, knowing poor Valentine was taking the few minutes out of his hectic work schedule he could manage to call me. Any other day I would have answered by the third ring, but now I was helplessly glaring at my blackberry as if it was a screaming baby or a post office worker.

"My time is valuable! I am a person deserving of respect and forbearance!! Heed me!! HEEEED ME!!"

But it didn't matter what I screamed at the thing, it continued displaying the hour glass as my missed call icon began to tally three missed calls and a voicemail. Finally after ten minutes my phone completed whatever task that was more important than my relationship and I started calling Valentine back. I pressed the call button to pull up my call log and JUST as I was about to press "send" to call him back I was met with part two of the hour glass horror show. "Nooooooooooooooooo!" I screamed. I held the device in my left hand in disbelief and without even blinking balled up my right fist and plowed into the face of my blackberry, faintly catching junior high school flashbacks of my first fight with Damion Black who refused to keep his hands off of my developing boobs in computer class. For the moment relief took over my cheeks and I felt better. Then I saw the damage. A giant crack was stretched across my screen. Not sure why, but I still didn't panic. I was strangely satisfied as I watched my phone turn itself off then sheepishly back on as if trying to (you'll pardon the expression) save "face".

Well, now it's days later and I've already received my replacement phone (ALWAYS get the insurance plan, it works if you work it), and switched all my data and applications to the shiny, new unscratched, un-cracked device. Yet here I sit, lightly tapping my phone's screen with my fingernail. "Um hello?..." I whisper as I try to send an email- nothing.

As I'm told by my provider that all blackberry users are having issues due to a nation wide outage, I suddenly wonder how many insurance claims I can submit before they cancel my policy....


(©2009 Lotus B.)

Yay Mom!!

It's my favorite time of the year again!! California time. In less than 48 hours I'll be back in Cali with my family, friends and my baby-poo Valentine. I can't wait to hug my mom and sis and kiss my Grams.

And that's really all I have to say. ♥

(©2009 Lotus B.)

I'm getting sick...no I'm not...Ugh

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7 days till I go home to Cali, and here I am beginning to sniffle.

I can always tell when a cold is coming because my contact lenses start to feel like their trying very hard to annoy me.

I took my temperature; 97.7, whatever the fuck that even means.

I listened to Valentine's hush tone over the phone as he stepped out of work for the second time to check on me. "Wish I could put an apron on and make you tea and soup." he said. I laughed.

"Just an apron, right, nothing else?" I verified.

"Uh. Nah...I'd have on, you know, like the NASA space suit."

I laughed and he continued....

"With the, uh, with the apron on....don't wanna catch nothin"

My smile turned to a laugh, which turned to a cough.

Not sexy.

(©2009 Lotus B.)

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This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon

I was talking to Valentine the other night about love addiction. He said Dr. Phil was on Oprah explaining how some people are making up for a void in their hearts by constantly seeking or needing a mate. They always crave approval and attention, they always need to know that someone loves them and is committed to them.

He questioned his motives for a split second. I could feel him analyze himself. "Naw, baby." I said, "That's not you or me."

I want to find this person who invented the concept of "love addiction" and smack the daylights out of them. How could they sully love's pond like that? How could they over define the undefinable image of love, and pigeon hole it into some healthy quotation? Humans are messy and unkind, and afraid and undone. We're not supposed to fit our emotions and impulses into a clearly labeled box from The Container Store.

So what if I've had a lot of boyfriends? I like men. I'm a pretty girl, and I consider myself to be fairly interesting to-boot. So I tend to have a lot of options because of that. I sample those options and occasionally sit down to a meal hoping it might fill me (forever). Valentine is the same way (only the male version).

"So what", I told him over the phone yesterday, "we love hard. "

One day we'll all look up from our perfectly balanced meals and see a woman running through a flowery field on the TV screen. Her arms stretched out, and face to the sky as a long flowing dress catches in the wind like angel wings. The announcer explains in a buttery monotone voice that you too can be free of your clinical love addiction with one simple oral dose of Ileeva per day. No more pesky emotional attachments, no more loneliness. Just pure and simple well-adjusted, well-balanced, relationships that always make sense. And if they don't one day. If your confused or scared or desperate or hurt or disillusioned...just pop a pill and that deep seeded need for love with softly disappear.

Side effects may include: nausea, heartburn, empty-headedness, social failure, claustrophobia, sexual frustration, loss of perspective, dry mouth, and trouble conceiving.

(©2009 Lotus B.)