everything under the sun (including teeth)

Yesterday I decided to skip my classes. Before yesterday I hadn’t missed a minute, let alone an entire day. I was getting worn out fast and needed a break before spring break. Instead of going back to sleep however I woke up with this unexplainable joy and immediately starting cleaning out the house. I managed to take everything out of the guest bedroom (shelves, bed, dresser, computer equipment etc.) and clean it top to bottom (minus the blinds). I piled up my shoes and made a few sacrifices, organized and found hundreds of poems, finished and unfinished, and unburied an extraordinary amount of nonsense. I discovered that I have exactly 37 pairs of shoes, not including flip flops, about 2 very large Tupperware containers of forgotten poems, and a crazy assortment of Christmas gifts that still haven’t been given away. When I first entered the room I had to climb over things and push from the inside out. I admit that I had trapped myself in the room and had no other choice but to clean if I were to ever see daylight again. I found pay stubs and bank receipts from over 4 years ago. Every little piece of paper that anyone I love or loved or thought I loved had written anything on, including rummy scores and grocery lists, had been piled into boxes and sealed shut. I found teeth that I had lost as a child, love notes from boyfriends in 6th grade, obituaries of strangers that had apparently touched me, old girl scout badges, tags from every animal I have loved, friendship rocks and shells and pieces of myself that managed to get buried beneath years of disregard and junk. I threw a lot away, but I would be lying if I said that I didn’t hang on to most of it. It was a tough battle, but I feel victorious. After the guest bedroom I cleaned the rest of the house, which was in much better shape, but when you have two golden retrievers you’re always going to have something to sweep or pick up. Yesterday was such a powerful day. I’m the first to admit that I tend to hang onto people and things that need to be freed, but admitting it doesn’t make it any easier to let go.


I woke up happy today. I feel like I slept for 2000 years last night. The first thing I did was reach for my new dress. I knew I couldn’t wear it just yet or I’d freeze my ass off, but I touched it anyway. I have managed to mysteriously lose almost two sizes (without losing weight). Last week Robert and I went shopping and found a dress. He liked it so much that he got it for me. Buying a dress sounds so simple. Women (and some men too) wear dresses every day. I don’t. It is not something I take for granted. I am very short, 5’1, and very muscular with a booty that puts J Lo to shame. Basically I’m like a pear-shaped Arnold Schwarzenegger. Dresses only go on so far before they get stuck and that’s not a position I want to be in when I’m in the dressing room at a mall. This dress beat insurmountable odds and now hangs like a miracle in my closet. I cannot wait to wear it. I have everything planned out, the shoes, the hair, the lip gloss color. Everything. I have touched it so many times that I am worried that holes might appear, but touching it is the only way to start my day.


Today I worked mostly on a paper that I am writing for a very scary class. I am writing about The Awakening, which really touched me. I had to find a scholarly article about the book and write about the article. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, right? Well I wanted to find somebody who wrote about Edna’s bisexuality, but I could only find writers who shyly approached the topic briefly before quickly moving on. I was beginning to get angry, because as a feminist text, this book should have several articles about Edna’s bisexuality. When I met with my teacher last week I was exasperated and lost. I had barely explained my dilemma before she whipped out an article on Edna’s lesbianism. I read the article and it took my breath away. If you haven’t read the book I’m going to tell you right now that Edna supposedly commits suicide by swimming out into the ocean until she gets exhausted. But here’s the problem. I didn’t want her to die. When everyone told me that she did, I didn’t believe them. I was going to keep her alive at any cost. I wanted so badly to believe that she surrendered and made love to the ocean, but I felt like my opinion was just wishful thinking. All the research that I could find stated that she died. I should have just said the hell with them and trusted my own opinions. But I let myself get defeated and on the day we discussed the book in class I sacrificed my participation points for the day and said nothing. I couldn’t tell the class that rather than dying at the end Edna was surrendering to the lover that awakened her at the beginning. I didn’t want to take such a fragile bud of a thought and throw it against such a sound judgement. I couldn’t suggest that Edna’s bisexuality and even lesbianism, sure, were sprinkled throughout the novel. When the teacher handed me this article I was skeptical. Bisexuality was pushing it in my opinion, so lesbianism had never entered my mind. But as I read the article I was swayed. It was such a profound article with such substantial evidence. The article proved that at least one scholar had considered Edna’s bisexuality. The article also illuminates the coward in me that couldn’t stand up against a large crowd and declare my opinion.


While I was writing my paper somebody started banging on the door. It wasn’t just a light tap tap tap. It sounded like the person wanted to tear the house down. When I opened the door I had to refrain from laughing because it was Charlie, our mailman. Charlie is deaf, and at times I wonder if he thinks everyone else is deaf too. He’s such a likable person though. He’s always stopping to chat with Robert, Audrey (Robert’s mom, who lives across the street), or I. Usually he just likes to talk, but occasionally he needs help with something. Today he appeared quite frantic as he waved one of his hands in my face. He had a tiny cut and asked for a band-aid. I went and grabbed the first aid kit and brought back antiseptic wipes, Neosporin, and a band-aid (we have the works because of all the kiddos that come around). As I was cleaning him up he kept trying to sign with his hand. It was worse than putting a band-aid on a caffeinated kid, but he was so excited because he saw Robert’s smoker. He kept signing, “I have a bigger and better smoker”. I called Robert and told him that Charlie had a better smoker. Of course he couldn’t believe it. I know that the next time they see each other there is going to be a war about the smokers. But it was such a comical experience. After he left I went to get the mail and there was nothing. He didn’t deliver my block’s mail for another 30 minutes which means that he went out of his way to come here when he needed help. That makes me feel good. One of these days I need to invite him and his family over for supper. And he can bring his own damn smoked meat.


Well I don’t want to talk your ear off…