Monthly Archives: January 2014

Children Rock

My niece just asked me how my song at open mic night went last night. She’s four. I love her.

Sweetest thing ever.

She remembered it because last night I played my song, and then as her Mom picked her up I was walking out the door with my music, ukulele, and my dad’s guitar.
And it’s the first thing she asked me when she saw me today.

I like this being an aunt thing.

Kids rock.


(Open Mic Night went well, by the way, lotsa smiling audience members.)


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I have carbohydrates.

I made the muffins, and I ate at least half a dozen of them. Then I rolled into a ball and marinated in my pain and loneliness.

Okay, the rolling in the ball and marinating part didn’t happen, but I did eat almost all of those muffins by myself, before my sister and niece got a couple of them.

They were orangey and muffiny….Soaked in a brown sugar and orange juice glaze. Which basically just made everything taste overly sour…because the juice was from oranges from the tree in my backyard, which may not have been entirely ripe yet.

But people liked them. My brother complained that they seemed liquidy, and then I explained the “glaze” that the recipe told me to pour over them. It did make them liquidy.

Anyhow, it got my mind off my non-existent relationship troubles for a while, and will probably keep my mind off them forever, as I gain fifteen pounds and never talk to another living soul outside of my family again.

At least I will have orange muffins.

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Who needs people? I have carbohydrates.

I’m making orange muffins. If you care. Or at least I think I am. I got the butter out of the freezer anyway.

Jerkface jerkface,
I hate you,
go and fall into a pit of glue.

Die die die
Die die die
Never gonna find a decent guy.

I range between super hopeful and bitter. It really cannot be healthy.

I don’t care
sure, run out that open door.

Fie fie fie
Fie fie fie
Who says I even need a guy?

It doesn’t help that all I have to focus on, while waiting for grad school, and watching my sister plan her wedding, (Or should I say, “sit around with her fiancee on our couch and make kissing noises”? Sometimes with kisses, sometimes just to make the noises,) is the relationship lack. Which really isn’t a big deal. Relationships aren’t everything.

Who needs people,
Who needs friends,
Who needs love or the happiness it lends?

Not I, not I, not I,
Sigh, sigh, sigh,
It’s too much work to even try.

But they still mean so much. But dwelling on these things like a crazy person won’t help any. So I should focus on something else for a while. Like those orange muffins I was talking about earlier..

Ever hopeful,
unreasonably so,
but life changes, and you never know.

Nigh, nigh, nigh,
Hope says not to cry,
Waiting as I sigh,
Living I will try.

Yep, I’m definitely making those muffins.




Filed under All Poetry, Various writing

MORE POETRY????? I think so…

Firstly, please ignore my scattered-emotional-roller-coasterness, and the way I talk about love one moment, and misery the next, and write a depressing poem, and then muse about marriage. Hopefully you already do. Or perhaps you never noticed it to begin with. Ha.

Secondly, thank you for liking any of my posts ever, and thank you for enjoying my poems. You make my flutters of emotional nonsense seem worth it.

Thirdly…Here’s another poem:

I like you.

Said so innocently.
Just a slip of the tongue.
And I don’t even know precisely what you mean.

And of course I like you too.
Just like I liked the guy who
sat with me outside on a sunny day,
but the wind was cold,
so we went inside,
and there he told
me that he liked me.
And he asked where it would lead,
that little liking seed.
But that went nowhere.

But I do like you.

Like I liked the one,
That I liked so much, that some
time before he went away
I said “I love you”,
In a straight-faced way.
And he smiled back, and took a breath,
and said “I love you too”,
with no thought or mess
of emotions inside his pretty head,
he loved just exactly
how he had said.

I like you too.

And then I asked you what you meant,
Just liking me, or liking with more behind it?
and you laughed and said,
we’ll wait and see.
And that laugh, and the patience, comforted me.

For I like you too.
But I don’t know quite how.
And there’s comfort in knowing
that I don’t have to know now.

The end. Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts, or know what I’m talking about, feel free to comment and share them. Thanks again. -cdukulele

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If my feelings to you were any warmer, or any colder,
If our friendship was any younger, or any older,
If there was a difference in any way,
Then perhaps I could think of something more to say.

But as it is, or seems to be,
like this tepid, old cup of tea
neither cold and
neither hot,
You’re not much disliked,
Nor liked a lot.

So there’s not much there, though there is something,
And oh, so little that it could be nothing,
And if you leave, or return some day,
Then maybe I will have more to say.


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Yesterday my sister texted me and asked if I ever talked to the guy who I gave my number to after we met at the bar.

I have a rather large family, and because on the Monday after giving “Ted” my number, my aunt, two of my sisters, and my future brother-in-law, knew about him, I figured the rest of the details would travel just as quickly. But apparently the novelty of telling everybody about Catherine’s dating life wore off, and so yesterday I found myself telling yet another one of my sisters about it.

As I texted her the details of our coffee date and subsequent dinner date, and how he then returned to Hawaii where he lives and works, it dawned on me how very lucky I was that the first guy I’ve ever been on a date with is now thousands of miles away.

This is nothing against “Ted” of course, he was an absolute gentleman, but if he actually lived and worked near me, I’d have some serious problems. For if someone texted me asking how it turned out with him and I didn’t have the perfect excuse of, he left the continent, then I would get questions. Questions like, “so when are you going out with him again?”, and then, “Why aren’t you going out with him?”, or statements like “He was nice, you should call him!” or “He really likes you, you should marry him!”

And I don’t know why my family would be so very interested in me dating and marrying this particular person, but I didn’t understand their interest when he first started talking to me at the bar.

So I’m just glad that, after literally pushing us together and saying all sorts of wonderfully inappropriate things at our first meeting, the guy that my cousins and sister tried to set me up with, left the continent.

True, if I had liked him, his move across the ocean would have been a bit tragic, but as he was pretty much just another one of my sister’s attempts to play matchmaker, I’m pretty content with the way things turned out.




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I ran out of things to say again.
This tends to occur when things happen in my life and I don’t know which one to comment on.

I think I’m applying to Grad school. My old professor forgot who I was. I need references. I hate getting references when I went to school half a dozen states away. It makes things difficult.

My sister picked out a wedding dress. I stood in the shop three hours while she tried them on and then showed them to me. Sometimes I got to sit down on the couch, but a family of girls were there to try on bridesmaid dresses…I think. 

I almost texted the guy who went to dinner with me on Wednesday. But I haven’t yet because I’m waiting for him to text me. Maybe he’s waiting for me to text him. He didn’t go to open mic night with me last week because he had to take his grandfather to the hospital again. I’m also waiting to text because he’s going to be very very far away in less than ten days and he won’t be back for almost a year.

Things are going on. Things are changing. They’ll probably keep changing.

It’s probably good. I was tired of being stuck nowhere in particular.

Hope things change for the better.
Hope I make the best of whatever changes.


I babysit tomorrow. -cdukulele


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