I Hate These Burned Lines.

I felt like writing creatively, which I do too little anymore. So this is some automatic writing from this afternoon that I'd like to share. The title is a bit playful but there is a lot of double meaning to be appreciated. Enjoy :]
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We held hands before and every tense was present-- every tense was perfect. A grammatically correct conjunction but it had no plot. The genre was not mystery, it was not history. The subject was poetry and it's verse fell into an ellipsis.

We are constantly told to omit run-on sentences, and yet it is the only way to streamline our thoughts, our feelings. Tell your story without personal pronouns. Define yourself as someone else, as "one." But what if you are "one of two"?

Write out numbers if they're low enough. Make them be something else if there isn't a lot of them. Hide in the paragraph and fill your body with complexity. Strain your mind for someone else's benefit. But still be clear, direct. No run-ons. Every line needs to be a full sentence. That is our sentence.

There is an escape. To ride the rhyme and flee from structure. Free. I am not iambic. I am not predictable. I see beauty in the timing of words that match. Quick! Light it and blaze your speech. Because it burns from both ends. My heart and yours. Our hands are a match and it's striking. The spark strikes and words form days from now, years before.  Burn away complexity, what is still in store?

A Night as Jack Dawson

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that most people have seen Titanic. If not, I suggest doing so because this post will make a little bit more sense if you have.

That being said, you remember the dinner scene that Jack is "rewarded" with dinner after saving Rose's life from her initial suicide and then from her clumsy near demise? And you know how uncomfortable that scene is to watch with all the bad looks and completely obvious caste system at hand? Pure smugness and hypocrisy.

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That was my New Year's Eve. And I was Jack Dawson.

You might be wondering how I could have lived this night in today's society as I am a suburban white girl and I spent the evening with my suburban white boyfriend. However, I was in a very unique situation that demanded I call on all of my Catholic school moral lessons and survival skills.

I was at Brian's ex-girlfriend's family party. WHAAT.

She was anything but the reason we were there, however her brother happens to be Brian's best friend and New Year's Eve was his engagement party. We originally were not going to attend as it fell on such a specific night and we had made other plans to celebrate the New Year. However, I knew Brian really deep down wanted to be there for his friend.
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Let's backpedal to a little less than two and a half years ago. Brian had just graduated from college and so did his best friend. His best friend threw a graduation party and we attended. This party was also at their house and I was also without people that would be considered "my people." This doesn't seem so bad because I had Brian, right? Except he grew up coming over to this house and being at parties with the extended family. I can understand this because I too have a best friend whom I spent time with at her house and with her extended family. The difference is I never dated anyone in her family.

The graduation party was bad for me, mainly because Brian and I had only been together a few months at the time and I was incredibly nervous and intimidated. So I may have had a couple drinks before I got there. And I may or may not have continued drinking whilst in their company. I also may or may not be an emotional drunk and picked a fight with Brian saying he fit into their family so well he should just go be with them. (It is amazing that he has stuck with me through this kind of behavior, I must admit.) Anyway, my point is we had been in this situation before and it was not easy for me.

In addition, the only time I have ever hung out with Brian's best friend was at that first party. He lives far away and is a perpetual student so it's hard to get together. So I tend to connect him with his sister whenever he is brought up. Which I hate doing because he is just fine in my book. She is not. Not just because she is Brian's ex. Exes exist and that is quite normal, I'm not a child. However, she has made her own bed when it comes to my feelings. Let's call her Cal.

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Okay, back to New Year's Eve. Despite my strong feelings towards being in that house, I knew Brian is an amazing friend and I couldn't be the reason he wasn't at the engagement party. Granted, I thought there'd be more friends and less family but as we know, Jack can't have it all.

So we go to the party to surprise him and we do! His face is priceless when we walk in and I'm immediately happy we came. I'm not as happy that we underdressed and brought a bottle of rum in a plastic bag. This just assisted the family in their caste assumptions about us. But I guess we have a different set of party rules. So be it.

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Oh and Brian's ex is a triplet with two brothers. One of which Brian is also good friends with. Bridget had a friend at the party too, her name was Sangria.

Initially all is fine, we chat about various topics with people and there is a caricature for guests to sign. Brian asks what to write so I come up with something poetic and lasting. But being that I'm a writer in a house of doctors and all... no one understands it. A poet's dream.

Then we play a game called "Everybody Put Your Resolution on Paper and Then We Will Guess Who Wrote It," (patent pending.) Now, let's remember... NO ONE KNOWS ME. And I don't want to write anything personal because frankly, I don't want them to know me. So I chose to write "Wake up everyday like it's on purpose." Perhaps that was a mistake.

As soon as mine is read, people laugh stating things like "What, do you usually wake up dead?" Or something along those lines. Again, my words are lost on this crowd. A writer's goal.

Welp, of course no one guesses it is me. So I get entered into a drawing for a prize. I win. The prize is a bottle of wine. Which came in handy later that week when I had to bring a gift to my work's Christmas party! There was no way I was drinking that poison ;]

The night continued and I made friends with the grandpa. He was a car salesman and a basketball coach... and he is tall and bald. So he reminded me of my Dad. Which helped put me a bit more at ease.

When we go to watch the ball drop, we all pile into the den and I am unable to see the TV, instead I see the behind versions of these strangers. Luckily, I'm feeling pretty good by this point and I'm next to Brian so it is a nice moment. Moments after midnight I call my parents. Whatsherface decides to go around hugging everybody at this point, including myself as I'm trying to have a nice time talking to my parents. Roughly, the hug feels like floating in cold Atlantic water. But maybe not AS bad.

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To end the night, some of us decided to play games. The game chosen was a game I had never seen before involving numbers and betting. Basically, how many miles between NYC and LA? Then you bet on the guess you think is the closest. It wasn't my style. But at least the night was proving consistent.

I had stopped drinking by this point but the effects were still there. In my mind, everyone had these effects. Sure enough, it was mainly just me and Brian. Let's just say, I'm positive the bad looks continued at the game table.

Finally around 2 am, Brian's dad picked us up and we went back to his parent's house. The following morning, his dad cooked me breakfast and I talked with him until Brian's mom got home from church and joined us. Once Brian, his brother, and his brother's lady woke up, we played Taboo and watched deer in the yard.

It felt good to be back with the true upper-class.