me, my valentine

long long ago, and far far away, I was in an empty airport late at night alone. the piercings, the streaked hair, the signs of those times. solitary me at 23. traveling to and from foreign places looking for someone. surrounded by foreign tongues.

I just stumbled across this picture and seeing it I remembered that night, and I remembered feverishly scribbling out a poem sitting on that polished floor under those inconsiderate lights. I went looking for that poem, and found it:

what's in it for me?
this separation.
this dislocation.
this lack of sleep in far away airports.
this longing.
this convincing myself that I don't, when every inch of me does.
this conversation in my head.
the thought that anyone who cares has no way of telling me.
the thought that what's in it for me is only the delusion that if I keep moving, I'll eventually forget you.
but no distance could escape you.
you are everywhere.

***

I am here now, only scars where metal once hung and I am able to look at that girl and say, look, it was only a phase. it's all only a phase. and now, the calm that has washed over me like a gift from the deep, I wish I could give it to the girl in the picture. but I know that each phase is necessary and leading to the next. I look at that girl and think of all the miserable valentine's days and realize today, on this day of love, in all her searching for love, she was learning through time and space, distance and long lonely nights, the miraculous art of learning how to love herself. I'm glad she stuck it out.

care bears on fire

it's never too early to start being yourself and it's never too late to start doing what you love. remember that my friends and remind yourselves everyday. there's no right time there's only time. make of it what you want.

too school for cool

ben "ladies man" pringle

jeremy "the stud" burgan

ry "party animal" sarmiento

bethany "the babe" toews


there is something so life affirming about yearbook pictures. it's like the first time you see someone cry, how can your heart not melt? a new bond is formed over the exchange of vulnerability. I don't care how much coolness one achieves over the course of their life, we ALL had an awkward phase (some lasting longer than others).

I remember when by some divine intervention I became "cool". 12-years-old and clueless-as-could-be, the first day of 7th grade ushered in a new group of friends -- the "cool" kids. what was I to know of this thing called cool? over the summer I decided to stop perming my hair and shed my splatter painted glasses in exchange for highly coveted contacts. and you should also know that my permed head donning over-sized glasses had sang its heart out at the talent show the last day of 6th grade. apparently my rendition of "the greatest love" made for a small fan base. all those things combined and before I knew it, I was catapulted from the safe terrain of the invisible nerd to the tumultuous life of a popular girl. truth be told, being popular consisted mostly of girls hating me and guys trying to feel me in places that weren't ready. so... I had to create my own brand of fame. I was still friends with the geeks and the freaks and handpicked the finer folks from the in crowd. in the end I learned a lot about being myself and accepting the consequence, and ultimately, the rewards of doing so.

why am I telling you all this? well my friends, I am telling you this because my band - Yearbook Pictures - recently collected our own yearbook pictures and shared them with each other. we had so much fun doing so that we decided to spread the fun with all of you wonderful peeps out there in cyberspace. we are currently asking for submissions of everyone's awkward pics. if you have a facebook page, why not become a fan and submit your own masterpiece. so far it's been a highly enjoyable exchange.