C*nt
Phonetically, it's harsh and unpleasant.
Teeth are bared by the time it's done.
Aggressive. Sneering.
It's demeaning, making an otherwise wonderful thing sound dirty and wrong.
It's taking a major feminine element and turning it into an insult.
It's objectifying.
I know we shouldn't give words power over us, but this one...
This one gets me every time.
When You Gotta Go...
It was a long drive, and we were all exhausted.
I had been laying in the backseat with my head in her lap, looking up the face I loved most in the world. Content.
And then I felt it. That tingling strain that says, "Hey. You gotta GO," and suddenly I was mortified. We were miles away from the nearest rest stop, my options were pretty limited.
Breaking the slightest sweat, I hung in there for another 15, 20, 30, 45 minutes until I couldn't take it anymore. By then, I was wiggling around anyway. No point in discretion.
We pulled over, I dropped trou.
Meanwhile, my little sister pointed and laughed while my parents shook their heads.
The trip home from Grandpa's would be forever branded into my then 7 year old memory.
Pudding Pants
It was me, two of my best friends, two of our boyfriends, and a handful of others.
We were a select few, hand-picked by our young, idealistic history teacher to see Obama speak at an outdoor campaign event. It was 2008.
The drive over was fun. We crowded ourselves in a van, excited and breathless, not because we were going to be a part of history, but because it was a trip to Austin with our friends and we were missing school.
It wasn't until after the event when we were grabbing a meal that the "Incident" occurred.
One of my friends wasn't feeling great. The sun had gotten to her and she needed hydrating. In an effort to make her feel better, my other friend came up with an idea: we would prank someone for a laugh.
I've never been the aggressive, trouble-making type like my friend, so I had reservations. However, my friend was nothing if not persuasive. Her approval was intoxicating.
The victim was unsuspecting (as victims often are) and we were clever little things. He never stood a chance.
Someone ordered pudding for desert at the little restaurant. The pudding went onto the victim's seat while he went to the bathroom.
Hilarity ensued.
Bliss
She's dancing now
Twirling, laughing, enticing
To music unheard by anyone but herself
With her every breath
The air buzzes an addictive energy
You want her
You want to be her
To hold her is to die and be born again
She smiles
It aches
One day she'll leave
The world will be empty
Until then you watch her dance
Void.
It's easy to assume the opposite of "love," is "hate," but when you get down to it, that's not really the way it is.
When you really hate something, it still holds a spot in that, deep, secret place where you keep things closest to you.
It's still passion.
Indifference is when she doesn't hear you ask how her day was.
When no one calls on your birthday.
Love is warm and hate is hot.
Indifference is just numb.