First page of the bedtime archive.

tutus and sweater pants.

Posted by jessica on Oct 28, 2011 with 4 Comments
in Funny Stuff, Performance
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“Is that what you wore to the theater?” my friend Dann asked me as I greeted him in my duck boots, tall socks, tank, and–oh yeah, a black tutu.

“No,” I said, laughing.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he said, laughing, too now.

See, the head of wardrobe was graciously offering to sew some hooks and eyes on the tutu that I am wearing for Halloween, which is why I had to wear it for a little bit at the theater tonight.

But that’s not why I had to wear it at a bar tonight.

I didn’t.

Have to wear it, I mean.

Except that my friend’s friend saw the tutu and asked me to put it on–and then everyone was asking me to put it on–so I slipped it on over my sweater pants, see, and then we did a couple of lifts in a small bar in Media at around one am.

Not so bad for a Thursday night, I guess.

And about the sweater pants I was wearing. At one point, the bar tender came right up to me and said that my pants look like pajama bottoms. Now, there’s nothing wrong with pajama bottoms, and if you’re in the right place at the right time–say, in the comfort and privacy of your own home at bedtime, then there’s just about everything right with pajama bottoms–but I really love my sweater pants, and they are NOT. PAJAMA. BOTTOMS. So I simply said, “Okay. They’re not,” with the kind of inflection that puts a period right on the end of the sentence, leaving no invitation for further discussion on the matter.

And about the tutu. No, I hadn’t actually had a drop of alcohol, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have been told before that I don’t really need alcohol–I still haven’t figured out if that’s a compliment or not.

Right, so that happened.

superimposed.

Posted by jessica on Oct 29, 2010 with 7 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, photography, Thoughts and Feelings
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she used to write in her journal impatiently;
she used to want to know the end of the story.
but that was before.
before she wanted to forget;
before all she could see was regret.
pouring down, an inescapable rain,
when simply living was synonymous with pain.
like a bedtime story, she couldn’t sleep till she listened.
like a practiced religion.
like a new baby christened.
it had to happen, no it didn’t!
she’s glad it happened, god, no she isn’t!
she doesn’t understand.
‘but just give her time,’ is what they say.
as if time isn’t all that’s left anyway.
and life is Then and it’s Now
and it’s knowing and not knowing how
and it’s the best thing that ever happened to her
all of it’s like hailey’s comet.
so fleeting, ‘but look!’ she says, ‘I saw it.’
‘that’s life,’ she’ll say, ‘I lived it.’

story time.

Posted by jessica on Sep 20, 2010 with 8 Comments
in Funny Stuff, Loved Ones, Thoughts and Feelings
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Have I ever told you about the time I tried to move in with The Mature Mother? That is not my name for her; that is what she calls herself. It was back when things were so very dark. It is like the opposite of when you see a light so bright, that it has [...]

in which I say absolutely nothing about the 4th of july.

Posted by jessica on Jul 5, 2010 with 10 Comments
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
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Sometimes the summer feels big. Too big; and here I am, small in comparison. The days have lengthened and I am not sure that I can stretch that far too. I am not sure that I can keep up. It is nighttime but not bedtime and I start to feel the way I can sometimes [...]