I got a poem in my email box, well, it was a freaking box somewhere full of messages. I hate to utter the terrible F word unless it is in regard to the F’s I know (two, now mind you). But yeah, so it was there. And you know what? Something is wrong with you men out there. Poems are like diamonds, actually no, they are wayyyy better than diamonds. And no, this was no sweet utterance or anything declaring love, no, no. This was like straaaight out of the freaking blue, one of those just becauses. I haven’t received one since maybe 2004? And that was a song a friend, er ex-lover wrote and named after me, which was just as good, because come on now? A song? And before then? Years….like high school, which is admittedly a much longer time ago than I should admit to having received a sweet nothing of words on screen or paper. Oh, I write them, I have written a TON…to friends and lovers and other assorted characters. But this is not a situation which will resolve itself. Communication is all textual trimmings and u r having so much fun, idk garbage that poems are definitely going the way of the milkman (and when was the last time you saw one of those? I remember—1987, in fact, at my door, delivering milk).

Now I have had some of those conversations in my life where I have walked away…knowing I said something meaningful, might have changed a life or perspective. But like WHAM…no warning, just hello, here you go, it took me five minutes to write, you were the catalyst to seeing beauty in pain and some other wonderful things. But then I started thinking.

Now keep in mind my perspective. I have been crying my face off all day, and tomorrow will be worse when I drive down to PA to bury my girl…but anyways yes…crying my face off. Annoyed that I don’t have any reason to function at the end of the day aside from my own, annoyed that my bed is cold, annoyed with the whole charade. And then this piece arrives in my inbox and you know what I realize? I don’t know, but the ego that fell off a cliff in Canada came bubbling up. And I realize…you boys are idiots. And you men are fools. And what the hell have I been doing wasting my time pining for the invisible something that’s not just handed out? Being a girl, apparently. How lame, right?

Yeah, I think so too. Wait until you see what I have done…it’s a testament to my smart-ass person, slowly being resurrected from the ashes. And sappy girl over there…she sucks. Kick her in the shins. She needs a good something-or-other.