Ready to watch something incredible?

for E.

Our summer ended while I was in the shower,
Bent over, scrubbing my legs, thinking about how
Just last evening I watched you sit on the patio, tearing
Charcoal-grilled chicken meat off the thigh. But that 
Was yesterday. It is night, now, and summer is ending, 
Or wait--has ended, or maybe you’re right--our Indian summer
Is just around the river bend, on its way over the mountains, 
Getting ready to enter our hot lungs that make us exhale
Differently, now, tonight, yesterday, today, whenever, forever--
Because we experienced this sacred summer, together.

Hey there, firework,
fireworking your way
through the dark alleyways
of the night sky, where
stars gallop around the
moon, where wishes that
I made in fifth grade found
its way near you upon the
string of a balloon. Oh, if only
that moon could keep your blazing
shhhhhsecrets, share the coloring-book
colors of your wavy hair, make me
feel as alive as the pops and crackles
and the intensity of his craned neck and stare.

Today is my dog Lollipop's 16th birthday. It's the second birthday she is celebrating in Heaven.

I miss Lolli every single day. She taught me so much about how to love--but not just how to love: how to love unconditionally. The friendship that we had was unparalleled. It can never be duplicated.

It's been over a year now since we had to part, but I feel her presence around me every single day. She may no longer walk at my feet, but I certainly feel her little paw prints all over my heart.

Happy 16th birthday, Lollipop. <3

The castles
on your tongue
are counting
off by twos,
trying to decide
who stays with me
and who goes with you.

Genuwine’s “Pony” is a helluva sexy song. 

It’s the “Let’s Get It On” of the 1990s. It’s the song that my friends and I listened to on repeat in high school, when our hormones raged like cage fighters on fire. “Pony”--in all its metaphoric glory--was the song that made sex seem sexy.

Sex as a theme appears so often in pop/rap music today that you would think that artists aren’t permitted to sign recording contracts without first agreeing to a very specific provision statement, which maintains that at least 65 percent of the songs they write must contain sexual innuendos. Or perhaps no innuendos at all (I’m pointing my pointer finger at Ms. “S&M” Rihanna, you “whips and chains” lover you!).

While there are a lot of sexy sex songs out there--I put Usher’s “Love in This Club” and Flo Rida’s “Right ‘Round” among them--it is very difficult to achieve the level of ear-popping, heart-throbbing sensuality that Genuwine accomplished on “Pony.” That song is smooth. It’s voluptuous. It’s melted chocolate poured on your outstretched tongue.

Heads up, folks: out of left field comes the fly ball that is Miguel’s “Adorn.”

This song begins with a dreamy, subtle intro that sounds completely unsuspecting. But damn, by the time the meticulous beat and Miguel’s vocals evaporate into your ears and enter your bloodstream, you best be prepared to find yourself the nearest makeshift fan (I would recommend the latest issue of Rolling Stone, where you can later read about Miguel’s sudden rise to stardom).

While it may not have the bouncy energy of “Pony,” “Adorn” is one of those “lay you down and love you right” songs that all women can appreciate. If this song was a man, he would have full lips. Silk in his shoes. And, hopefully, a belt that’s easy to unbuckle.

To Genuwine and Miguel I must say: thank you for keeping my hormones in check.
___________________________________________________________________________

Count it. There's $100 there. That was $100 that I could have used to make a car, student loan, cell phone bill, or insurance payment. Instead, it went to the Humane Society of Somerset County. And I'm proud of that.

Today marks nine months since I lost my best friend. Lollipop was my pride and joy; that adorable little dachshund was more like my child than my dog. She changed my life for the better. I loved her then and I love her now; death certainly has not seperated us.

These past nine months haven't been easy. I dream about her often and sometimes still cry on my way home from work, thinking about how much I miss her and the beautiful bond we shared. Alas, I continue to take one day at a time--it's much easier that way.

After Lolli passed away in June, I began to put what money I could aside from each of my paychecks. This evening, I finally had the opportunity to present this money to Sally Urban, president of the Somerset County Humane Society. It was an honor. I hope that Sally and her staff stretch every dollar and buy whatever the Humane Society needs during these cold winter months.

I'm not yet ready to get another dog, so I think this was the next best way to help animals in need. And I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to donate this money in Lolli's memory. I truly wouldn't have had it any other way.

Lately I've been thinking about lately I've been, hey, lately I've been thinking that, you know, I mean, lately I've been thinking and thinking and I've been lately thinking pretty lately, okay, because you've got me thinking that I should be thinking because lately I need to be thinking about how thinking makes things feel lately. Hey! Thinking lately about you. You, you, you, lately, lately, lately.

She held me like the baby I used to be and told me that it was okay, that
everything was going to be okay, and that she would forgive me if I could
forgive her.

And then she weeped into my shoulderblade and I think I thought I felt the
clenching of her teeth, that's how hard she was weeping. I weeped, too, while
scrolls of parchment leaked from the back of my brain and melted into the front
of my closed eyelids.

These are the words that appeared on the parchment, which was yellow in color
but mostly white:

"No matter what you do, I will always love you. When you're feeling alone and
empty and your heart feels sore or swollen or sickly, I will still love you.
When you feel like you need to call me, call me and talk to me and I'll tell you
how I love you more than you might think sometimes. When you need to be reminded
that you were born into this world with ten fingers and ten toes that were
capable of healing the world, you come on over to my house and we'll have some coffee . . ."

The parchment is torn at the bottom. I open my eyes. She is gone. I am alone,
but as full of company as I'll ever be. As full of company as I'll ever be. As full of company as I'll ever be.

Let me borrow your lips. I could kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you and kiss you. So don't stop kissing me back.

I've got a smile on my hips. I'm quite convinced that we could spend our time wisely. I would gladly save any seat that you leave. I think that musician . . . I think that musician, you know, I think he wrote that song for us. Play that song again, on the jukebox. Play it again, for us.

Let's talk to Father Time, make arrangements for weddings and funerals and years of happiness. But mostly the latter, which is two letters away from the ladder that I will climb to decorate our house with those tiny colorful lightbulbs just in time for the holiday season. Come be my Merry Christmas. Let me call you my birthday. Open that wine, boy, and give me a free tour of your tongue.