Marvelous in My Monday: Que Será, Será

I am having an unabashedly awesome week.  (I’m sort of lumping in the past few days, as well as anticipation for the weekend, into it as well; not just saying that because Monday’s barely begun.) 😉  And this has been something of a rarity lately, so I really think we should commemorate it.

*cue streamers and confetti and strobe lights and music–anyone wanna make me a cake?*

I’m also not thinking in a very coherent-post-conducive manner right now (because I’ve been working a heckuva lot on Thaw as of late!  this is very good but it also means my writing brain is pretty fried!), so I think I’m going to break out the LISTS in order to detail why I’m having such an unabashedly awesome week.  (Is this bragging?  Is this shoving my happiness in your face when probably a lot of you are suffering the usual case of the Mondays and I’m sorry?  I hope not…this is just…chronicling.  A celebration.  It’s MARVELOUS.)

#1.  I have really awesome friends.

yayI’m not sure exactly why I’m just realizing this…I’ve known it for a while, certainly, but I guess I’ve never really fully internalized it.  Being around other girls my age, though, and hearing about spats and drama and huge fallings-out with their “friends” is definitely making me more appreciative.  I don’t know that I’ve ever been in a fight with a friend.  They’re all just too awesome.  And we all respect and love each other and are all really smart and have the same weird sense of humor and it’s just amazing.  I wasn’t aware of how rare this was until lately, and I am SO THANKFUL.  I LOVE YOU ALL, GUISE.


One of my friends and I have recently started a weekly running thing (well–I say weekly–meaning it’s happened once and there are plans to do it again the following week) where we talk and we sort of run but there’s no pressure to really be speedy but we cover a lot of distance and last week we did 6 miles, which I think was actually the longest run of my life.  Granted, we definitely didn’t run for the entirety of it, but it was still very impressive to my mind.  And the talking and the repetitive exercise has been really therapeutic and happy-inducing and gah I love her.

#2.  Lately I have been conversing with an extremely smart dude with an overall pleasing aesthetic.  *giggles shyly and brings shirt collar up to hide face*

aww david tennant gif

#3.  I AM GOING TO SEE SARAH KAY PERFORM IN SEATTLE ON MARCH 1ST. (!!!)  If you don’t know–I’ll skip the shaming that you really deserve–Sarah Kay, as mentioned in this post, is my favorite spoken word poet ever and she’s pretty young and infinitely inspiring and her poem B was really one of the things that helped pull me out of my 7th-grade depression and disordered eating.  It is so beautiful and she is so beautiful and everything is sugar and rainbows and happiness because SHE’S PERFORMING IN SEATTLE AND I’LL ACTUALLY BE ABLE TO SEE HER IN REAL LIFE AND GET AN ADVANCED COPY OF HER BOOK AND THE ANGELS WILL DESCEND FROM THE HEAVENS AND CROON SWEETLY WHILE STRUMMING HARPS OF COTTON CANDY.

Her website is called Que Será, Será, which is both a pun on her name (Kay, Sarah, sera) and is a saying that, translated, roughly means “what will be, will be”.  (If you were alive in the 60s you probably know this, because Wikipedia informs me that it was also a pretty popular song back then, and one I think I’ve heard at least once on some Netflix show or other.)  I can’t express how much I love this.

(I knew there was a very good reason for not asking anyone to the Sadie Hawkin’s dance that night!  Good job, TGITO.  Such a prescient decision on your part.)

What’s your MARVELOUS today?


Positive Poetry Project Entry #3

In response to the theme:
Charles Dickens’ classic A Tale of Two Cities infamously begins, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” What time in your life does this remind you of? Use this opening in a contemporary setting to describe something you’ve experienced.

A Tale of Two Cities 987 miles apart:

It was the best of times

And the worst.

That crystalline summer sun

smelling of chlorine and cardboard boxes

and black Sharpie marker

pushing its way through elliptical skylights

in what I never thought I would have to call The Old House

made anything seem possible

made everything seem surreal.


Two friends gathered in a spidery cement basement

wove tulips out of pipe cleaners

(I still have those, Christy)

wove friendship from embroidery floss

wove laughter and slivers of light into that




cold silent time.


Cat’s Cradle by the pool,

prancing through prairie like fools,

both faces plastered with elementary school smiles,

not knowing how it would feel–

how impossibly, utterly, awfully real,

is the difference of nine hundred eighty seven miles.


“I’ll call every day–”

“Wish you didn’t have to go away–”

“But we’ll keep in touch, you’ll see.”

No way for either to know

Of the way things would go

Once “me and her” became just…me.


Because Life




I whisper her name

and something like shame

on the tip of my tongue, starts to sting

And I know I should call

But can’t work up the gall

For fear that that phone will just







It’s a good thing I’m so contrary.


Dialing anyway now–

so many zeroes–

pity nothing rhymes with zero–

pity it’s the number for nothing,

squandered dreams, squished hopes,

no value, worthlessness, the epitome of emptiness-

No, stop, positivity.



Now at the end of the line

I hear the silence of the buzz of her room

And then that voice known so well–

Again weaving that spell

A friendship two years abandoned can so easily resume.


I’m drenched, now, in Pacific Northwest rain

(Cell reception is only outside)

But now I am sure:  Whether they bring us bliss

or a pain of the most needling kind

Once in your heart, people permanently reside.




This poem is not quite positive, but not quite negative, either.  Three poems already brings me to (almost) the halfway point of this weeklong endeavor, and in the latter half I’ll strive even more away from this neutrality–on the last day, I’ll take on the ultimate challenge, and write about happiness itself.  Until then,

-The Girl in the Orange