IMG_1506

How to Save Fernie

I was assigned to write a “How-To” piece for my creative writing class. I have been developing it into a bigger story, but this is the basis for it all. 

Make sure that Elizabeth won’t choke on her tears. Push the light blonde hairs out of her face and the tears off of her cheeks. Look back over the balustrade and see if Fernie got caught (hope that Fernie got caught) on something before she fell into the river.

When you realize Fernie isn’t there, tell Elizabeth that you’ll get her a new Fernie. Listen to her hiccups coming back, sobs, screaming. Turn your head away so she doesn’t scream in your ear. Look up at the sky. Blue, blue, blue, white. You remember how wonderful this day had begun, how you held hands the whole way from the park to the bridge. You went for ice cream and when she asked for the Black Cherry ice cream, you got Double Dutch Chocolate for yourself so that when she inevitably hated the cherry, you could switch with her. You regretted putting her in a white blouse that day.

Now, the tears are catching in your hair and you have to act now or else this will just be. You have to tell her to stay here, to not move and hold onto the balustrade. Tell her it’s a game, That her feet are dipped in honey and she wins if she stays until mommy comes back. When you let go of her, don’t touch her again or you won’t leave. Run down the bridge and take a sharp left. Don’t slide down the ravine.

You wore the wrong shoes for this.

Look down the river. The current is too strong today, but you catch sight of Fernie’s big ears bobbing up and down. Elizabeth calls for you. Reassure her. Make a new rule, like the fact that the honey is on her hands. Remember when she would hold your hands at night and never let go until she fell asleep on your chest. Breathe a tight breath.

Scale the bank of the river, pressing yourself up against the underside of the bridge. Your shoes sink down into the dirt and you can almost see yourself rolling down into the water if you aren’t careful enough. Look for hope. Fernie’s lemon ears are caught on a tree that got struck by lightening fell into the river during the last thunderstorm. That was the night Elizabeth’s dad told you he didn’t know how to help you anymore. And you told him you didn’t know how to either. But now you do.

Walk a little further down the bank, touching tree limbs to steady you. See one of Fernie’s ears loosen (that goddamned rabbit). Run now, despite your high heels and despite looking back to see if Elizabeth is still in the same place. See how precariously the tree is resting over the water, teetering over the edge of the bank. It’s not the first time you would have gotten yourself into a situation where the rug was pulled out from under you (one time, it quite literally was). Think better of it.

Break off a split limb on the tree. You probably will get an abrasion on your palm from the bark, but keep going. Keep going. Turn the limb over in your hands. It is heavier than expected. Reach out for Fernie with the extension of yourself, the tree branch. Reach, reach, reaaaach. Not close enough. Put the toes of your shoes in the water. Reach again and catch the ear on the end of your faux fishing rod. Scream out that you caught her. This is more for yourself than for Elizabeth, but let her know you’ve got Fernie and you’re coming back up. Hear her joyous cry and her short steps as she rushes to the other side of the bridge to watch you walk to her a hero.

Wrench the lemon colored bunny to your chest, stroke the divot in her cotton tail that Elizabeth pulled out with her teeth, remember how he handed Fernie to her and said that this was her baby like she was your baby.

Formula For Sadness/Happiness/Indifference

The fact of life is that some days are better than others. 

There are always reasons, sometimes dramatic ones like today I got the job I always wanted or today I lost the guy or friend I thought I wanted/needed. 

But sometimes it’s the mundane. Sometimes you wake up in the morning and there’s just a shadow cast over you, a great big shadow. And that shadow makes your heart heavy. It’s those kinds of days that make you think about your failings in life and career and love and friendship and all those crazy things that make up the human experience. 

It’s those days where you wake up without any predisposition to sadness, but feel sad anyway. It’s those days when you look in the mirror and think you’re less beautiful, more chubby, more pimply than you were the day before. 

How do we avoid these days? I’m only 19. I have never found a way to avoid the bad day, the just “I woke up like this” bad day where you’re afraid everything in the world is turning against you and that things will never look up (even though they are totally up, you are wonderfully happy, and things are just good). 

Give yourself over to this sadness until you can give it away. Not to others but to the universe. When you see people who are worse off, going through a tough time, anything like that, you have to be the stronger person and give your sadness away to help their’s. 

I have a problem with giving and never taking what I need. But giving more than you get is the way to live if you want to live a life full of love for others, empathy, and spreading happiness.  

Plastic

Just when you think you’re done babbling. 

How much of you

wasn’t plastic?

I would have given you the world if you could hold it. But your hands are too stiff to grasp onto what I have you and your eyes are fixated on the space over my head.

You Star, Bright Star

Realizing your self-worth when you’ve been cast aside. 

You are a star. The sun. You are the sun.

He saw how bright you were. How you smiled so big and laughed so loud. He knew that you were so smart and well-read and you were passionate about all sorts of things. Your kindness and capacity for love was resounding in the space he kept between you. He could see your brightness from miles away.

But he didn’t want to give you your solar system. He knew that you deserved that entire solar system and all of the moons and asteroids and space dust.

And he was too scared.

He was too scared to give that all to you because that would mean letting part of himself go. That would mean letting caution to the wind. That would mean letting you in.

So, sure, it hurts. It hurts a lot to know he didn’t try enough to give you that solar system.

But doesn’t it feel good to be the sun?

Thief

While I try to get over you, I write bad poetry. 

You think I’ll be okay, you think I’ll be okay.

You don’t know.

My heart is on your sleeve. I see it there, sewn on the inside of your forearms with all the other ones you’ve taken. And mine is still fresh, still beating, still bloodied.

At first, I was mad. You had taken my heart, sewed it on your sleeve like a fucking animal head on your wall. You could show people and they would know that I was hurting and that you took the power.

I never thought that perhaps someone had done that to you. That your own heart was on someone else’s sleeve.

So now you steal other people’s in the hopes that maybe you’ll be able to love someone someday.

(News flash: you don’t just take someone’s love, you give it back)

Little Boy

A response to the question of can we just be friends.

When you smiled for me, I smiled back.

So let’s keep smiling, please.

They will not be the same smiles. I know.

I know they will not be the same glimmers of knowingness of want of nervousness.

They will not be the rememberwhenitouchedyouandyoulikeditandnooneknowsbutus smiles.

Please keep smiling at me though. Please keep smiling so I smile back.

Little, little boy.

thematic elements

Changing themes is one of the hardest things about maintaining a blog. You find one you like, you get attached to it. You kind of fall in love with it and after you publish a post, you go to your blog to look at it because, “Wow, it looks so much better with a theme around it.”

Doesn’t it?

I left my first theme at the beginning of 2015 for something a little pinker, a little darker, a little calmer. And I miss my first theme. I have thought about going back to that first theme, that one that served me so well, that held my posts so tenderly and made them look pretty even when the content was so banal, so disgustingly trivial I audibly gasp when I reread them.

Thanks old theme. New theme has big shoes to fill. You have to take each post and act like it’s genius, even if it’s not. You have to be kind to me and let me manipulate you just a bit (old theme was a little stubborn). And you have to know that one day I will probably let go of you, just like old theme. For now, you’re the new theme.

Sometimes, all it takes is a little bit of a thematic change to create a new world of blogging.

So now I’m gonna post this and go check it out on my blog and see how my theme is dealing with this ramble.

Games

“You’re very good at a game that I don’t want to play.”

I admittedly heard this in High School Musical 2 when I was 12 and didn’t know what this game could possibly be. So yeah, Gabriella was basically telling Sharpay off for trying to steal her boyfriend (the ever-beautiful Troy) and this was her response to all of Sharpay’s sass.

What wise words, Gabriella.

There are games wherever we look. I can’t get away from them. It’s funny…when I talk to my closest friends and they gasp, saying that their old friends are so childish, dealing with drama, with games.

I know better than to think we grow out of games. We just play differently. We play them better.

We keep secrets better, trade secrets more skillfully, cry less, open our mouths less, but that doesn’t mean that the drama, that the games stop. I feel like we all put an end date on the games. Once I turn eighteen, no more teen drama for me. Once I turn twenty-one, I’m gonna be able to drink on my own, I won’t put on with the petty drama. Once I’m this age, once I’m that age, I won’t have to deal with drama.

And maybe to an extent that’s true. At one age or another, it no longer is drama. eventually, it becomes life. Life is no different than drama. Drama is the heightened version of life that ends up on a stage. So when we say we have so much drama going on, shouldn’t we just say “Life is happening really fast right now.”

Or “Life is a lot right now.”

Because life likes to give us games to play, and we can’t help but play them.

resolute

So, today being the first day of 2015 (halfway through the decade!), I began my resolutions.

I woke up at about 9:30 and then scurried off to a barre class with one of my best friends, Christina. I have taken a barre class before, but in the much more classical sense of the term. It was all focused on ballet. This class though was at Pure Barre. Pure Barre is a barre studio that does the classical barre work and ten times more. It basically makes your muscles burn until you fall apart while you listen to pop songs you can’t name.

I was so excited to try Pure Barre after my mother had told me about it. I was not disappointed. I am sore as the dickens. Hopefully, I’ll be able to return tomorrow and claim my monthly membership. While participating in the class, listening to the teacher, Ashley, count us down as we squeezed a ball between our thighs, I was struck by the camraderie of the situation. Even if Christina had not been there, there was definitely a forward thinking energy of the group.

I think Pure Barre is going to be a huge component in how I lose weight this upcoming year.

Afterward, Steens and treated ourselves to humongous, Everest-sized salads at Blue Door Farm Stand. I am barely exaggerating. These salads were mountainous. I got their Sesame Chicken salad which had a pile of arugula and water cress skyrocketing in the middle and it was garnished (heavily and exquisitely) with carrots, bean sprouts, radishes and watermelon radishes, cucumbers, sweet peppers, red cabbage, and spicy sesame chicken drenched in this wonderful sesame dressing. Like just look at this thing.

FullSizeRender

The Everest of Salads

And to top off the day, I went to church because today is a holy day of obligation AKA the Solemnity of Mary.

So now, very humbled, full of good food, and sore to my core, I feel like 2015 might just be my year.

2015, better

“New year, new you” is a horrible saying. Are we really to think we are a tabula rasa immediately when the clock strikes midnight?

Here we are in 2015 and what a wonderful feeling that is. But is it really going to be the year of a “New Margie”?

Not quite. Maybe it’s the year of a better, more crazed, busier, more exciting Margie. In order to accomplish some goals I have for 2015 (AKA the dreaded New Year’s resolutions) I’ve decided to post them here where I can update about my feats as the better Margie. Without further ado, here’s my list of New Year’s resolutions.”

1. Lose 20 Pounds
I know, I know. Either you’re going to say “that’s not going to work” or be an overly nice compatriot of mine and say “but Margie, you don’t need to.” The unfortunate truth is that I gained the freshman 15 and the sophomore slump weight too. I’ve decided to combat this in a few ways: a change in diet (not dieting per se) and taking classes at Pure Bar, Corepower, and other places. I need to gain motivation to ultimately live better and be happier in my skin.

2. Go to church more
This basically includes this: church every Sunday and every day of Holy Obligation. I have kind of fallen out of favor with my faith or it has fallen out with me since my schedule has become so…wild this past quarter.

3. Write on my blog ONCE A WEEK
Yes! Don’t worry! I have realized I’ve been neglecting the beautiful platform of blogging. Every week, I am going to dedicate some time to write a story, poem, rant, or update on my life to make sure I’m still writing.

4. See more theatre
Self explanatory. See my job description.

5. Worry less
Easier said than done, I know. But this is important to me. As an actor, my nerves have gotten in the way of my work. I need to shed the worry I have gained about my reputation and the way I’m perceived and start to take risks. Risk and reward, risk and reward.

So that’s 2015. Let’s do it. Let’s get excited! Let’s not screw it up and make it a good year, one full of laughter, love, and contentment.