Bathroom Passes

Kids held captive, so restricted that their bathroom passes are rationed out yearly. You only get
so many, kids trade them for other services and products. They are so rarely used
that Teachers automatically assume the pupil is doing something other than what the name
suggests. Students are well aware of this properly calculated concept. So they pinkingly as possible step into the use of a Bathroom Pass. All the while,
looking over one's shoulder all the way there, and even back. Maybe even walk sideways or in
a spinning motion to just keep an ever-eye. Correctly assuming were the Teachers who
thought, and theoretically provoked, students to use the Pass for the opposite of its intended
purpose. Children, gather and mock each other. If you're not there you might be viciously
trashed about. Question stands each day "To use the Pass, or to not use the Pass?" That
is the question. Does he use it and forego potential future possibilities with more certainty
to the quan of entertainment. Entertainment is often provided by the grapevines, the chains of
gossip that is. More gossip, more escapades, or upheavals the better the conversations
were in the halls and bathrooms. Girls and boys sashay to and fro, prancing for each other,
trying to be someone who knows the most, they are the most trusted and usually part of the top
echelons. Careful though, trade a pass and let someone in that shouldn't, say hear a certain
conversation, someone finds out you let someone in on a certain specific day, you could be in
some kinda trouble for that. Best to keep to trading with only those you've seen more than a
few times. If they are there when you are, chances are higher that the majority of your friends
are friends with the same people and that only those are present when your friends are. Sure,
there are cliques, whichever group has the most Passes is considered the "popular group".
You get the picture, same game, different qualities to be ranked by.

Staples Tomorrow

"I never expected tomorrow to happen." He said to the attendant, as I walked up to the counter.

Pushing my sunglasses atop my head, looking over, I interject, "Isn't that exactly it? I mean, you never expect what's going to happen tomorrow. Right?" Smiling, I look back down at my purse pulling out my necklace, then continuing to search for my debit card, my life line.

He responds "Yeah, I mean, I had no idea I'd get this invitation. It's one of those designer bag events, tomorrow night. I have business cards on order but they don't come in until Friday."

My prints were ready and he catches a glance. "Are you an actress?" I respond, no, but that I'd like to be and I'd had an audition. "They asked me to drop off headshots, so here I am." I further indicate that, I'm to drop them off today, obviousifying that I'm doing this last minute just as he is with his business cards.

He passes me one of his new business cards, "I sell real estate. So when you make it big and need a million dollar apt give me a call." I pass him one of mine, like a true salesperson he glances at it and as he leaves; "Nice meeting you, Eve." I respond, quickly realizing that in the shuffle of my own papers I hadn't a chance to look at his card to catch his name, "Nice meeting you as well." I say smiling.

Upon exiting the girl behind the counter and I exchange a glance, smirk and roll our eyes at the ironic humor of the situation. Handing over my receipt she says, "'And it all started at Staples.'" "Bound to happen, I'm here often enough." We laugh.

###

I Only Drink Champagne.

I only drink Champagne.
That's who I am.
Dance in the rain
Sing through any pain.
All the while, drinking only Champagne.
Sleep at six, a.m. or p.m..
Because I only drink Champagne.
It's fine if you're a square, I don't really care.
As long as you buy me Champagne.
Order your imported beers, finest wines and whiskies.
Water's for the fishes, Vodka for the misses.
Always from me you'll get Champagne kisses.
Hoped on stars and tossed pennies in a fountain
Oh, I'd say quite often.
Champagne was in all my wishes.
Pitt, Gylenhall, Efron or Bale.
To my Champagne they all pale.
Some girls think of Chocolate or Shoes.
Champagne is what I'd choose.
Of life's peaks and valleys, after all these things and those four.
I still love Champagne more.

Revealing Eyes

I understand you've lost your eyes.

.....


Yours to the world were taken from you and now you ask "WHY?!!?!? Why did someone take my eyes?!!? I don't understand, they were mine!! Who would do that?!?!!? They were my friends! You don't understand!!! You just, just don't..., can't.... ...Mine!!!" Your hands are to your face and tears are screeching down your cheeks and you continue to scorn the night sky "My eyes! My ...eyes!!!!"

Well, there is alot to say when trying to answer these questions. They are not short of "What is the meaning of life?" So I will start by saying, first, that no one can know exactly how you feel at the moment when you've realized that you've lost your eyes. But, I do understand fully what loss feels like, and on many different levels, but no, no I do not claim to KNOW what is going on in your stomach or in your heart.

So I answer your questions with an even louder agreement "WHYY!??!?!?!!?" Shaking you hard; "Yes, WHY!?!??! That is the question!!!" Put harshly; "all good things...."

Your eyes which saw your friends and family, not just their physical space but what they were also feeling. Your eyes saw souls, karma and umbras of lives. To feel color and capture the winds.

Raise your hands and scream! Scream to the birds passing by! Let the rats feel your anger! Let the world know of your suffering and loss. Then reside and curl up on the city street.

Why do any of us lose? ...Why? Why are such the precious things always the ones to be taken?

My friend I understand loss at this level. Even though I may not have experienced the same ratios of anger, resentment, utter pain, and shear sadness I do, I do know those emotions well enough to comprehend your pain.

Alas, these eyes, thankfully are not made of cells or tissue, no, though you feel just as connected if not more, they were not a part of you to begin with. And on some levels they are replaceable, I know they may never be fully, but mostly, mostly.

So I will shake you, and yell at you, and I will console you and cry with you over your loss. Partially, b/c there are many losses that I've never cried over. And some I've cried over for too long. But Mostly b/c you need the contact, physical contact. But I will not allow you to talk as though your world has ended. There is far too much out there yet to be seen. This, what is coming, is big....very, very big indeed.

"Arista,... you've been....revealing." This coming from the queen of TMI. ha! ....stepping out of the emotional bubble.... Wow, what a rush.... to engage someone when they are in hysterics to meet them when they are half way to China, -the long way.

If something tradgic had not happened you may have not fully experienced leaving, not the loss, just LEAVING. You needed the tragedy to give you the push to make the leap and let goooo... Letting out emotion is what you need, even if it's not directly related to what is truly going on, let it all out.


Things we've lost in the fires of life...
Kisses
Hugs
Hair
Gloves
Phones
Pictures
Words
Dreams
Family
Friends
Other Significant Others
Unknown
Socks
Flashlight
Favorite Sweaters
Shoes
Songs
Pieces of Your Heart
Toes
Eyelashes
Apples
Ways
Paths
Light
Stars
Sand
Money
Ring
Sunglasses
Chances

There's No Regular Mustard Here For You....

According to an in depth scientific investigation we have concluded that restaurants in NYC do not maintain any stock of regular yellow mustard. And that would be fine, just simply fine, if I didn't LOVE regular yellow mustard....