home and when I dreamt about the Ellen Show.
in Funny Stuff, Loved Ones, Performance, there are pictures here, Thoughts and Feelings
as brilliance, button down, coffee table, ellen show, enough space, everything, friend john, home, Latshaw, pool table, SHE, sister, skinnier, skinny jeans, sky, space, stage, time, viscerally, way
When I am back in Pennsylvania, everything feels accelerated.
The time goes so quickly; the stars shine with this polished brilliance, like the sky has no wish for any traveler to be turned away, and it burns every last lamp to prove it.
“It’s good to have you home,” my mom tells me.
And then she asks me if the clothes on the pool table are mine. “I don’t think so,” I reply, really hoping it’s so–since I don’t have enough space for the clothes I have that are already accounted for.
“Well, they must be,” she reasons. “The jeans are skinnier than my arms and the underwear is very small and strange.”
My mom has a way with words.
And so I take the ‘very small and strange’ underwear she hands me; I find a place for the super skinny jeans and realize that I guess I did leave some clothes on the pool table, after all.
And, oh! Did I tell you how, the other night, I dreamt (not once, but TWICE!) that I sang on the Ellen Show?
Because I did.
And I don’t normally remember my dreams so viscerally, but this one, I do.
I was right about to walk onto that stage where the couch and the coffee table sit . And there is Ellen, looking adorable in her tailored trousers and cute button down shirt, when I hear this announcement:
AND THIS IS JESSICA LATSHAW. SHE GOES AROUND SINGING, “BABY, YOU AIN’T MY FRIEND.” SHE MUST BE VERY ISOLATED AND HAVE NO FRIENDS.
It sounded like the announcer felt sorry for me, and, honestly, I did, too, once I heard what he said.
But the good news is that I have many friends and don’t feel isolated at all. In fact, I love a little bit of alone time now and then–it’s akin to breathing–meaning, I find it absolutely necessary. And who knows? Maybe I will sing on the Ellen Show at some point. I mean, as my friend John says: miracles happen, so why not to me? That would certainly make my sister pretty excited. And, who am I kidding, it’d make me pretty excited, too.
Speaking of my sister, isn’t she beautiful?
Yes, I think so, too.
I wonder.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as beautiful day, brilliance, Cassiopeia, income ratio, lemons, many things, Orion, Pumpkins, sky, taurus
So many things.
Lame things, like why my skin is so dang dry lately.
Heartrending things, like what God’s plan is for me.
The details, I mean.
How, exactly, I am going to earn the money I need to pay my bills.
Not that I worry about this.
I mean, maybe I should, but I don’t.
It’s strange, in terms of bills to income ratio, I’ve been doing better barely making anything than when I was making a whole ton of money.
And I don’t think that’s going to suddenly change.
I mean, it’s not like that’s an accident.
But Chicago closes in two weeks and enough people have been asking me what’s next for me to begin wondering it myself.
Which is when I become this kind of hovering question when God and I talk.
“Look at this beautiful day I made,” He says.
Or at least, I see the trees brightly lit with leaves the color of pumpkins and lemons; the sky filled with stories that we refer to as Orion and Taurus and Cassiopeia, and that seems to be a general message.
And sometimes it’s so beautiful that it stops my question.
It lingers unasked because I already know the answer.
Well, enough of the answer, anyway.
Because how can one look at such brilliance and beauty and ease of nature without realizing that your own life is a part of the glory, too?
So, then, sure.
I guess that’s what’s next.
Not that looking at leaves and stars pay the bills around here, exactly.
But, I mean, all of that reminds me of how it’s gonna be okay.
It already is okay, and that’s not suddenly gonna stop.
Even when it felt like it did stop, it didn’t.
Not really.
The okayness came back.
Maybe even deeper than before.
it’s right here.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as brilliance, giant, God, kind, life, plan, sense of wonder, sleeping giant, tip toe, tip toeing, way
I don’t know about you, but well, the stars. How do they do that? How is it that I’ve seen them so many times now–that surely, I must have memorized the way they fan out in the sky above me, but no. Because there are still nights like this one. When I look up and suddenly [...]
