I am so grateful to my parents.
I still can't believe it's mine.
I've decided I want to name it.
The year my parents died
one that summer one that fall
three months and three days apart
I moved into the house
where they had lived their last years
it had never been theirs
and was still theirs in that way
for a while
echoes in every room
without a sound
all the things that we
had never been able to say
I could not remember
in a china cabinet
plates stacked on shelves
lace on drop-leaf tables
a dried branch of bittersweet
before a hall mirror
were all planning to wait
the glass doors of the house
the days had turned cold
and out in the tall hickories
the blaze of autumn had begun
on its own
I could do anything
Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...
You are an Ingrid -- "I am unique"
I remember Michigan fondly as the place I go
to be in Michigan. The right hand of America
waving from maps or the left
pressing into clay a mold to take home
from kindergarten to Mother. I lived in Michigan
forty-three years. The state bird
is a chained factory gate. The state flower
is Lake Superior, which sounds egotistical
though it is merely cold and deep as truth.
A Midwesterner can use the word “truth,”
can sincerely use the word “sincere.”
In truth the Midwest is not mid or west.
When I go back to Michigan I drive through Ohio.
There is off I-75 in Ohio a mosque, so life
goes corn corn corn mosque, I wave at Islam,
which we’re not getting along with
on account of the Towers as I pass.
Then Ohio goes corn corn corn
billboard, goodbye, Islam. You never forget
how to be from Michigan when you’re from Michigan.
It’s like riding a bike of ice and fly fishing.
The Upper Peninsula is a spare state
in case Michigan goes flat. I live now
in Virginia, which has no backup plan
but is named the same as my mother,
I live in my mother again, which is creepy
but so is what the skin under my chin is doing,
suddenly there’s a pouch like marsupials
are needed. The state joy is spring.
“Osiris, we beseech thee, rise and give us baseball”
is how we might sound were we Egyptian in April,
when February hasn’t ended. February
is thirteen months long in Michigan.
We are a people who by February
want to kill the sky for being so gray
and angry at us. “What did we do?”
is the state motto. There’s a day in May
when we’re all tumblers, gymnastics
is everywhere, and daffodils are asked
by young men to be their wives. When a man elopes
with a daffodil, you know where he’s from.
In this way I have given you a primer.
Let us all be from somewhere.
Let us tell each other everything we can.
[from The New Yorker ]
What was I doing:
- 10 years ago: Hmmm...living with my family and working at a bookstore? I think?
- 5 years ago: Taking summer classes and working at Curves
- 5 months ago: Working at the Community Voice
5 things on my to do list today:
1 - Do some laundry
2 - Spend time with Dad for Father's Day
3 - Watch more Dawson's Creek dvds (God bless Netflix)
4 - Upload some photos to Walmart.com
5 - Call Casey
5 Snacks I enjoy:
1 - Pretzels with peanut butter
2 - Cheese + crackers
3 - String cheese
4 - Trail mix
5 - Granola bars
5 things I would do if I were suddenly a billionaire:
1 - Buy a new car
2 - Buy a luxury apartment
3 - Buy gifts for everyone I love
4 - Open a bookstore/cafe and staff it with family and friends
5 - Find charitable causes in which to invest
5 of my bad habits:
1 - Oversleeping
2 - Overspending
3 - Wasting hours online
4 - Giggling at inappropriate times
5 - Eating junk food
5 places I have lived:
1 - Holly
2 - Fort Wayne, Indiana
3 - Upland, Indiana
4 - Boyne Falls, Michigan
5 - I'm out
5 jobs I have had:
1 - Telemarketer
2 - Bookstore shelver/cashier
3 - Receptionist
4 - Curves trainer
5 - Managing Editor
5 things people don't know about me:
1 - I can be very judgmental/critical
2 - I'm addicted to old-school Super Mario Bros
3 - I don't like parties very much
4 - When I've been around people all day, I feel very drained
5 - I can't go to Target without buying something