New Month, New Theme: And You Thought Yours Were Bad

That's right folks, get your awkward on, as Maki likes to say. This month is all about the FIRST DATE. Whether you thought yours have been funny, clingy, desperate, heart-breaking, or just downright outrageous, everyone has a first date story (true or exaggerated, but exaggerated are probably better) hidden deep inside themselves waiting to get out. I've included a little trailer from my favorite awkward date movie courtesy of YouTube. Enjoy, and happy writing!

It's Not Fair

It's not fair
I have lived a charmed life
While the world crumbles

It's not fair
The country of Iceland is under clouds
While I haven't ever seen a volcano

It's not fair
That Judy Blume can be brilliant
And I can't pen this poem

Just sayin': Haiku

Old coffee tastes bad
Like water through an old sock
Can I make fresh pot?

the identity crisis poem is late

...due to a recent identity crisis. life imitates art.

song for the identity crisis

            --best to read while listening to this.

on the day of my identity crisis, none of the downtown

traffic lights were working

the parking ramp was filled with horns perpetually

honking

in a chorus of monoxide panic

trapped animals confused and frantic

on the day of your identity crisis

it’s not going to be much different

on the day that i lost all sense of self and continuity

couples were rollerblading down the greenway

and scattered along the route were bronze boots

inexplicably fused to benches

were they meant to be creative expression

or a function to give bums some hesitation

on the day you lose all sense of self and continuity,

you might need a place to sleep

and when the spring melts the frost from this blood

things will get positively manic

like jets of contaminated water

pouring from dozens of hydrants cleaved in two

filling the gutters with sweat and retch

moving at a speed few could ever catch

on the day of your identity crisis,

we’ll see just how fast it comes.

A different take on the identity crisis

I wish someone had told me...

How hard this teaching thing was going to be, before I dove into the pool head first

How harsh Minnesota winters could be

I don't (and probably never will) have all of the answers

And that was OK

How hard it is to get up and go to a group of strangers that all seem to enjoy writing

That these earrings do not go with this outfit, that there is rip in the back of these jeans, and that I really don't belong here

How much I ramble so I don't end up rambling the night away

What was in the punch

That orange is not the new pink

I wish someone would let me know their name, once in a while.

That children have a mind of their own sometimes (OK, all the time.)

I wish someone had told me at least once that I was smart.

I wish someone told me (at least once) that I was pretty...instead of saying that looks aren't important.

That I can be strong and tactful at the same time, that I can make friends at the same time I make enemies, and that I don't need a group of "Friends" to validate my very existence.

That money doesn't grow on a tree in my backyard and that digging to China is harder than it looks.

That San Francisco is more than 1,000 miles away.

I wish someone had told me that I was over 1,000 miles away from home and I would never, ever, need any help.

I wish someone had told me how to survive.

Identity crisis of EPIC proportions

It was a disaster
My milk is two days old
And I knew no one

I walked back to my car alone
To drive back to my house
That I rent from the guy who was supposed to show up

That sounds different than the way it is supposed to
I’m not involved
With anyone in any way

I loved listening to stories from staff
Meeting people I haven’t met before
Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be there

I don’t belong
To anyone
Not even myself