hello, my name is....

Ouch! The biting sting of embarrassment. I did a presentation at work today, and didn't prepare all that much. I do so many presentations that I'm fairly comfortable with it. It was simply about my role and what I do, so I thought I could speak about this articulately, indefinitely. I was shockingly wrong about that today. After a painful bout of stammering, spacing out, and apologetically cringing..I am home feeling badly about myself :( I suppose in the long run it is a little thing, but I like to be professional and respected and that didn't happen today.

Sigh... On a positive note, I'm off to California on Thursday!! I can't wait to see Kim and meet Niko. I heard him over the phone today - he had just woken up and seemed cranky. He and I already have something in common. Yesterday I woke up late, after going to bed late, and got stuck in my dreams. I felt like I was emerging from a coma as Gabe ran out of patience and wanted me to get up and play with him outside in the beautiful day. His idea of waking me up is usually sweet - a kiss, an I love you, a back massage, a favorite song playing. But yesterday he thought it was a good idea to wake me up by tickling me and holding me upside down. I was not at all amused by this, and threw a holy, whiny fit. It was a painful waking-up. But I got up and we went hiking since it was 80, sunny and low humidity - perfect! It was exciting and I ignored the tickle in my throat as we walked on the path. Five minutes in I was doubled over hacking, with watery eyes and a dripping nose. Ugh, allergies. We headed right out again. At least my eye didn't swell up this time!

I've had a poem bookmarked for a while now. But I've been feeling generally sunny, per the weather, and solid, per my frequent gym visits. Tonight was chilly, and I felt disappointed in myself, which attacked the wholeness. Now this poem is appropriate...


One Afternoon
by Joanie V. Mackowski

A woman stepped outside, crumbled
into a loose particulate, and, as the breeze
blew up from the east, she scattered: her handful
of heart, volcanic ash, spiraled the highway,
and five of her teeth slipped between
her neighbor's breasts; her neighbor
unbuttoned her blouse to scratch
at her suddenly red and luminous skin.
Days passed. Each day the sun distractedly
drifted from chair to chair; each night the stars,
old scatterbrains, they commiserated.
It didn't rain. Strange, the granular woman
thought to herself: although I encompass
so much, I accomplish so little.
Her car sparkled with her hair and bones;
her garden thrived. She tried to think:
why did this happen? what had I eaten?
why was I bothered?—those old hours,
spotted and exotic lizards, darted
the gravel, flicking through their colors
of skin as one flicks channels on a tv.
She couldn't catch a one. Then, as a flock
of sparrows converging for the skull
of an oak, all her twittering dust,
her brain, bone, and the dangerous shreds
of her fingers clawed for the sky;
what an interesting cloud someone said.