SMOOSH!

Bananas hate to travel
(they get bruised on all the bumps).
Their nerves start to unravel
and they're widely known as grumps

They quickly lose all muscle tone
(their posture starts to slip).
They simply have no backbone
when you make them take a trip.

They hate the car, the plane, the bus
(they'd rather stay and sit).
But, strange enough, despite the fuss,
they sure do love to split!

Fine, we are social creatures. Now stop bothering me.

Why is it that there are some people you can spend your whole day with, talking, not talking...just living life...and it's so easy, almost like they're an extension of yourself. Your relationship glides. And then there are other people, people with whom having conversation is like pulling teeth. The awkwardness is palpable. You breathe it in and it chokes you. Words don't come. Not constructive words, anyway. You simply want to yell, "Why are we fighting for this? Why can't we just say hello and move on and drop this facade that we are actually involved in each other's lives?" Actually, you don't even want to yell. You just want to calmly state the obvious. It's not worth expending the sort of passion that yelling requires.

But we are social creatures. We are, even if I often want to run and hide and put up a sign that says "Not today, please." There is an appearance we must uphold because it is woven into the fabric of community, even if it seems false. And, sometimes...sometimes...you are blessedly wrong, and that conversation you dreaded becomes something indescribable. Something totally and completely unexpected is exchanged, and you lend or gain insight that brings pure, fresh air rushing in, blowing your hair about and swirling your skirt around your knees. Sometimes this happens, and it is extraordinary. Hope for these moments keeps me fighting through all the stagnant small talk, as much as I hate it.

But, still, often I fail and just head for the nearest exit.

Fridays: A Haiku

Productivity:
A concept I am lacking.
Facebook is like crack.

The dentist and I are not friends.

Inhaling the dust of my tooth as I sit,
My mouth in an oversize O,
I stare at the light
And try hard not to bite
The hands working under my nose.

I feel nothing. I’m numb from the lip to the gum
As my tooth is attacked by the drill.
My mouth tastes of rubber;
I try not to blubber.
The hygienist tells me, “Sit still.”

Breathe in. Now breathe out, I silently chant.
Don’t panic. You’re doing just fine.
I unclench my fists,
Let my insides untwist
To the lullaby of the drill’s whine.

Enough with the drilling!
Just finish the filling!

(Hours later)

The work’s finally done.
I still can’t feel my tongue
As I walk to the front with a frown.
The receptionist files, looks up with a smile:
“Now, when can we schedule that crown?”


*Luckily for me, the crown part is just poetic license :)

**PS. Thanks to my 2 "fans" who inspired me to blog again! May this post not make them wish they had kept their mouths shut...