Blargh

Welp, my interwebs has been stupid again and hasn't been letting me update my blog, but now that I'm at my cousin Christine's, I have the chance to do so! Yay for working internets!


June was rather uneventful. A really cool thing that happened though, was that I emailed Gretchen Rubin, the author of "The Happiness Project," and she emailed me back! How cool is that?!?!?! She was really sweet too; said she read my blog!!


Other than that, this coming weekend, we're celebrating my grandmother's 90th Birthday! So we're having a HUGE party and family from all over is coming. I'm pretty excited. The only other thing that would be better than having family there is if Magoo could be there. He gets back in Fredericton (I'm in Campbellton right now) on Wednesday, and the party is Saturday. I'm really hoping he can make it. Keep your fingers crossed for me okay?


And I've decided to post another poem tonight. This one is called "Learning to Scrapbook"
She sits on the stone stairs

of Melanson Elementary School,
G.I. Joes sticking out of her backpack
as classmates bustle around her.


Beneath the rainbow fluorescence
of the Ferris Wheel,
she holds cotton candy on a stick,
a clown's grin on her face.


Wet cheeks next to scribbles on the wall,
blue and yellow Crayola markers on the floor.


"Jeux D'Eau" playing,
as she stumbles
over untied shoes on stage;
a dozen girls in tulle tutus
laced with purple.
Porcelain dolls on a shelf.


Nearly a woman
in a strapless pumpkin gown,
corsage cutting into her wrist,
as her prom date clutches her close.


Playing cards backstage,
toe shoes tied and dipped in resin,
ready to step into a Degas painting
to become a Dutch wind-up toy.


Fourth floor apartment:
a polydactyl tabby claws and tears
at the corner of a Sports Illustrated.
Dirty socks on the floor
beside the gray suede couch,
a man's dress jacket on the armrest.


Smell of mothballs in the closet
where a Wal-Mart Memory Bin
holds pictures and a pair
of faded pink pointe shoes,
hard toe box now soft from wear.


Middle-aged and making Maxwell House coffee,
she looks over her shoulder
to her old prom date
putting an empty bottle
in the recycling bin.
Photo album on the oak dinner table,
storybook reminiscent of Grimms.