love?

what happened to the days when people got together and stayed together? when money wasn't everything? when love reigned? what happened to the days when divorce wasn't an option? when "for better or for worse" actually stood? what went wrong?

the greatest love stories that we spend our lives reading are centered around characters who fall in love by overcoming obstacles and problems and society to simply be together. now, it's questionable if there is a possible genuine love story - i mean one spanning years, decades, and never failing.

what's happening?

my own wonderland.

“Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”

promise?

she looked at him with eyes larger than the sun filling up with tears that were beyond her control. she asked one simple word: "promise?"

"i can't."

and it was enough.

"it's my favorite thing in the world," she said. "someone who doesn't break their promises."

so she searched, for the one who would prove her wrong, prove that it is possible to make a promise, mean it with everything in you, and keep it forever.

100 songs for a broken heart

i'm compiling a list of 100 songs for a broken heart. i can't guarantee they will make you feel better about your present situation, but hearing sad songs makes us remember we're not alone. the greatest artists and poets and songwriters have their motivation from broken hearts, cheating boyfriends, and crushed dreams. we are not alone. you're not human until you've suffered the broken heart. so my 100 songs for a broken heart will be posted as soon as it's done, but until then, if you have any suggestions - send them my way!

cbmackin@gmail.com

even broken hearts mend over time

can't explain it.

it's two o' clock and i was sleeping, but i'm not feeling great.

i took some pills to help my thinking, but now i'm thinking worse.

well i was hoping that i could see you; if that's not too absurd.

am i in love? or am i dreaming?

cause i'm not sensibly just taken by your words; for once i found a cure.

i'm sick of staying up late, because you're not here, and i'm not there.

no, i'm not afraid to watch you change me,

i'm not afraid to watch you change me anymore.

you need to know what you're into;

i'll tell you i'm a god damn piece of work.

so i'll just sit here until you enter my arms -

cause that's the simpleness of where i lay my head.

i'm a wreck when i'm alone, i'm the [girl] who lost [her] home

and i'm sensibly just taken by your words;

for once i found a cure.

i'm sick of staying up late,

cause you're not here, and i'm not there.

no, i'm not afraid to watch you change me.

i'm not afraid to watch you change me anymore.

i took the key bridge north to your parent's house again.

i saw my share of lights from the sky outside the city.

i brought you things i loved just to show you that i cared.

i found a place to lay inside of the warmth.

that's the way that i spent these last few days of writing all these songs.

i swear to god that i love you, cause i can't explain it.

:the dangerous summer

chelsea walls.

i want to be a lost poem in a strangers coat pocket,

that conveys the importance of you.

to assure you of my desire, to assure you of dreams.

i want all the possibilities of you in writing.

i want to give your reflection.

i want your eyes on me.

i want to travel to the lightness with you and stay there.

i want everyhing before you to follow us like a trail behind me.

i want never to say goodbye to you, even on the street corner or the phone.

i want......i want so much i'm breathless.

i want to put my power into a poem to burn a hole in your pocket so i can sew it.

i want my words to scream through you.

i want the poem not to mean that much.

and i want to contradict myself by accident, and for you to know what i mean.

i want you to be distant and for me to feel you close.

i want endless days when its day and nightime never to end when its night.

i want all the seasons in one day.

i want the sun to set before us and come up in front of us.

i want water to run up to our waists and to be drenched by the rain up to our ankles with holes in our shoes.

i want to think your thoughts becuase they're mine.

i want only what's urgent with you.

i want to get in the way of the barriers and i want you to be a tough guy when your supposed to, like you do already.

and i want you to be tender, like you do already.

and i want us to have met for a reason and i want that reason to be important.

and i want it to be bigger than us, i want it to take over us.

i want to forget.

i want to remember us.

and when you say you love me, i don't want to think you really mean new york city and all the fun we have in it.

and i want your smile always and your grimaces too.

i want your scar on my lips and i want your dissappointments in my heart.

i want your strength in my soul, and i want my soul in my eyes.

i want to believe everything you say, and i do.

and i want you to tell me what's best, when i dont know.

and when your lost i want to find you.

and when your weary, i want to give you steeples and cathedral thoughts and coliseum dreams.

i want to drag you from the darkness and kneel with you exhausted with the blinding light blaring on us.

summer.

and i knew, more sure than the cold of the waves on the shore,

how much i loved you.

and your kiss locked all of those summer nights into my heart,

with a spark that set the sand on fire.

one day.

".. & when she’s gone. remember you once loved her, you once needed

her. you once cared about her more than anything in the world.

you can’t deny she was ever there for you. you can’t deny what

you had. you can’t deny that it ended over absolutely nothing.

you can’t deny that regardless you still think about it. no

girl could ever love you the way she did. one day you’ll

realize what you’ve done. you’ll go back

and she’ll be gone.

fall.

sometimes you fall. you fall down and you fall hard. and it seems like you're never going to get back up, but believe me you will. this is what life's all about: the heartache and disappointment coupled with the rush of love and achievements. without one, we wouldn't know the other. people are always going to let you down - there will always be liars, cheaters, and exes. it's what makes for a good story. it's true that you're given this life because you're strong enough to live it. so breathe and just remember that you're not alone. don't give up. the imperfections in life are what make it perfect. the memories we make everyday are our story to give back. we are finite. all we can hope for is to make one mark on the world. make one person listen.
so, go.


make someone
remember you.

in the end.

"love someone.
it doesn't matter if you suffer.
it doesn't matter if you cry.
it doesn't matter if you fight.
because in the end you'll be able to say:
i suffered, i cried, i fought.
but i loved you."

and

i feel like i know everything about you,
but have so much more to learn.

do what you have to do,

and

i will be here waiting when you're ready.

an aching fixture.

is it alright
to be so in love with somebody,
your heart aches

fortyfive.

forever.
it's everything i can give

godmother!

today was awesome.

1. i started my book the other day, and unlike every other time i've started writing a book, this morning i woke up and picked right back up where i left off - a sure sign that i'm actually interested in this one! i'm super excited about it.

2. i didn't want to have to go to work at alllllll tonight. i closed last night, i've been working since last friday with no day off. i didn't want to shiftlead. and on top of everything i got the dreaded table at 12:30 when our kitchen closes at 1. i was nice, of course, hoping against hope that i would get out of work at a decent hour. they were a party of 8 and had gratuity on their check, as our policy states. then, they left me $40 over grat! it was amazing. they were such nice people.

3. i get to be a godmother! my cousin asked me to be the godmother to his 8 month old daughter, Prema. i am so so so excited!! i was just thinking about how i wonder if i'll ever be someone's godmother or confirmation sponsor, or maid of honor, or anything of importance in a big ceremony like that, and now i will be! on october 17th i will get to become prema's godmother! it's super exciting and i'm absolutely honored.

4. i am off tomorrow - no work for me!

on the downside, i did cut my finger pretty deeply tonight at work and it's really bothering me now, so i'm going to stop typing and get some sleep!

heart.head.soul.song

this is my heart

this is my heart. it is a good heart.

bones and a membrane of mist and fire
are the woven cover.
when we make love in the flower world
my heart is close enough to sing
to yours in a language that has no use
for clumsy human words.

my head is a good head, but it is a hard head
and it whirs inside with a swarm of worries.
what is the source of this singing, it asks
and if there is a source why can't i see it
right here, right now
as real as these hands hammering
the world together
with nails and sinew?

this is my soul. it is a good soul.
it tells me, "come here forgetful one."
and we sit together with a lilt of small winds
who rattle the scrub oak.
we cook a little something
to eat: a rabbit, some sofkey
then a sip of something sweet
for memory.

this is my song. it is a good song.
it walked forever the border of fire and water
climbed ribs of desire to my lips to sing to you.
its new wings quiver with
vulnerability.

come lie next to me, says my heart.
put your head here.
it is a good thing, says my soul.

: joy harjo

daddy's shoes.

there i was, all of three and a half feet tall, spinning around and around and around. i worried about scuffing my daddy’s shiny new shoes or losing my balance, but when i tried to even focus on one particular thing outside our private circle, my eyes fluttered under the weight of the air and i could only laugh. i laughed and laughed and laughed at the silliness of it all, the simplicity of happiness that occurred when my five year old self was able to dance on the tips of my father’s shoes and feel alive. when the song ended, my dad reached down and lifted me up so i was the tallest person in the room and everyone looked into my sparkling hazel eyes and for a split second, or at least i like to believe, they felt like i did, like irish music can change the mood, like the slowest dance can be turned into an upbeat jig, and like being my father’s daughter was the biggest honor, and it was all mine.

071606

memory is a way of holding onto the things you love,
the things you are,
and the things you never want to lose.

the wonder years

if you eat out, read this.

a few pointers:
1. most servers/bartenders do not make the $7.15 that is minimum wage. in fact, most corporate workers make only $4.60 which is then TAXED by the tips we have to declare at the end of the night. so, when you have a check over the price of $22.00 do not drop a "five dolla holla" and leave. take the time to look at the TAX at the bottom of your bill, double it, and the add two dollars. if you do not do this, you represent ignorance. it is not 1960, and we cannot even live off of a 15% tip these days. wise up to your surroundings. granted we are in a recession, but if you can afford to eat out, be aware that this is your server's job and they should be able to afford to eat out too.
2. do not be rude to the people who handle your food. are you really THAT dumb? if you are, please go rent the movie "waiting" and understand that it is a corporate restaurant! they got the idea for the movie from a chain restaurant many people find themselves frequenting. chew over that bit on information and be nice to your server next time.
3. a TIP does not mean a piece of advice. it means a payment for being at your beck and call and running around for everything you may need for 45 minutes. if you overdue the necessary extra napkins, extra honey mustard, take it into consideration that you might want to leave a few extra dollars.
4. introduce yourself to your local diner. if you happen to get hungry after midnight, do not come to the corporate restaurant on the corner where the servers are cleaning up, the kitchen is closing, and the bartenders are cranky. go to the diner where you can always get a handy cheeseburger and be as loud as you want.
5. EMERGENCY EXIT means EMERGENCY EXIT. it does not mean - EXIT HERE WHEN TOO LAZY TO WALK TO FRONT ENTRANCE. you're already consuming enough calories to last you four out of the seven day week. the extra walking won't kill you.
6. stop bringing your newborn children out after midnight and sitting at at bar to consume massive amounts of alcohol just because you couldn't drink for nine months. it is not a healthy lifestyle to be bringing children up in.
7. if, at the end of your meal, you tell your server they were the greatest server you've ever had or anything along those lines - ask to see a manager to relay the compliment to. it does no good just telling the server, the manager needs to hear it. and then you need to tip - BIGTIME. if you're not up to these two tasks - save your breath. your compliments mean nothing to us.
8. when you order an alcoholic drink from a corporate restaurant, the bartenders put as much alcohol into the drink as is allowed. if you ask us to bring it back to put a liiiittle bit more in, we will take it to the bar and stand there long enough for you to think we're "helping you out" when really we're not doing anything. it makes our day when we bring the drink back to you (totally untouched) and you tell us it's "much better!" thank you to those people. other than that - if you order a mai tai don't expect to be wowed by the liquor content. if you're looking for said reaction - stick with a long island iced tea.
9. stop pretending it's your birthday. we're going to start asking for id.

sometimes.

sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there, to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson, or to help you figure out who you are or who you want to become. you never know who these people may be, but when you lock eyes with them, you know at that very moment they will affect your life in some profound way.

sometimes things happen to you that may seem horrible, painful, and unfair at first, but in reflection you find that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, willpower, or heart. illness, injury, love, lost moments of true greatness, and sheer stupidity all occur to test the limits of your soul. without these small tests, whatever they may be, life would be like a smoothly paved straight flat road to nowhere. it would be safe and comfortable, but dull and utterly pointless.

the people you meet who affect your life, and the success and downfalls you experience, help to create who you are and who you become. even the bad experiences can be learned from. in fact, they are sometimes the most important ones.

if someone loves you, give love back to them in whatever way you can, not only because they love you, but because in a way, they are teaching you to love and how to open your heart and eyes to things. if someone hurts you, betrays you, or breaks your heart, forgive them, for they have helped you learn about trust and the importance of being cautious to whom you open your heart.

make every day count. appreciate every moment and take from those moments everything that you possibly can,
for you may never be able to experience it again. talk to people that you have never talked to before, and listen to what they have to say.

let yourself fall in love, break free, and set your sights high. hold your head up because you have every right to. tell yourself you are a great individual and believe in yourself, for if you don't believe in yourself, it will be hard for others to believe in you.

you can make anything you wish of your life. create your own life and then go out and live it with absolutely no regrets. and if you love someone tell them, for you never know what tomorrow may have in store.

learn a lesson in life each day that you live. today is the tomorrow you were worried about yesterday.

was it worth it?

let's go yankees.

take me out to the ball game,
take me out with the crowd.
buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks,
i don't care if i never get back;
cause it's root, root, root for the home team,
if they don't win it's a shame.
cause it's one, two, three strikes, you're out
at the old ball game.