bitty words #13

"Wow."

I echoed his sentiments in a dreamy tone, too gloriously satisfied to say more.

"No," he sat up and looked at me in the dusky light from the open bedroom door. "Like, so much better than I remembered it. And I remembered it being pretty good."

I giggled. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended. Both I guess, since both times were me."

"Stop, I didn't mean it like that. It's a compliment." He seemed to have missed my giggle and playful tone.

"It's okay. I'm not offended." I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You were really great, too."

He all but growled as he caged himself over me. "Think I can be really great, twice in a row?"

I didn't have a chance to answer him as his mouth crashed into mine, demanding and urgent.  I pressed one hand against the smooth skin of his chest and threaded the other through his Adonis curls.

As we came up for air, I whispered between kisses on his neck. "Don't disappoint me now."

He laughed and rolled onto his back, taking me with him. Looking up at me, his smile was almost sinister. He had definitely accepted my challenge.

A shiver of anticipation ran through me before we attacked each other again.

bitty words #12

He dropped kissed across my collarbone and any hesitations I may or may not have had about going back there evaporated.

"Let's get you out of that dress," He whispered, his hot breath dancing across my neck.

I answered him by grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling. He laughed as he flung it off, his impossibly defined abs now on full display, and laced his fingers through mine pulling toward the bedroom.

Yep. All hesitations were definitely gone.

Once inside his room he spun me into an embrace, pressing his body against my back and wrapping his arms around me.

"This is really such a great dress," He whispered. He ran his hand over the soft wool of my skirt, grabbing curves along the way.

I gave a half-hearted thanks, but I didn't really care if he liked the dress. I wanted to be kissing him again. "Are you gonna compliment it or take it off?" I asked with my characteristic snark.

He laughed into the curve of my neck and I felt his fingers on the zipper. I turned to face him as I let the dress fall to the floor.

His sound of lustful approval defied description as his eyes scanned my body.

I stepped out of my dress, rising up on my toes, and pressed myself against his bare chest. His skin felt scalding but in the best way. I was close enough to kiss him but I didn't. I catalogued the details of his face instead. The feathery lashes, the crinkles near his gold-flecked eyes, and the incorrigible way his hair curled across his forehead.

This man was seriously too attractive for his own good.

He interrupted my musings on his status as a perfect male specimen with a passionate kiss that left me breathless. I was trying to remember my own name when he half pushed half carried me onto his bed.

I giggled as he landed on top of me.

He hovered over me, poised to kiss me, but paused. "Did you miss me, Princess?"

My snark kicked in before I could stop it. "No, missing you would require feelings and I don't have those." I literally bit my tongue, holding it between my teeth as I waited to see if I'd gone to far.

He dropped his head onto my chest and laughed, vibrating my whole body with his mirth. "You're such a pain in my ass," he said.

And then neither one of us said anything coherent for a long time.

bitty words #11

I was expecting a text from my best friend when I heard my notification tone.

But it was him.

Risen from the graveyard of people who don't text back to give a girl a minor heart attack on a busy Friday afternoon.

I looked at the text for nearly fifteen minutes, shock and surprise eliminating any ability to construct complete sentences. But eventually I managed a few words and he volleyed back.

A plan was made. A time arranged.

I walked up the frosty front steps in my dainty heels, my legs shivering slightly in my dress. I pressed his doorbell and waited. How awkward was this going to be after nearly four months of radio silence?

Was I going to have to make small talk?

His Adonis face appeared in the shadowy hall and I knew I did not want to make small talk. AT ALL. I had way better things to do with him after all this time.

"How was the show?" He asked as soon as the door was closed behind us.

Fucking small talk. I shrugged out of my coat and tried not to sigh out loud.

"Pretty good."

"What show was it?" He took a step toward me and the look in his eye sent a whole new type of shiver through me.

"Does it matter?"

He laughed. "You are so good at small talk, has anyone ever told you that?"

I smiled but as a witty answer formed on my tongue, I shivered.

"Are you cold?" He dropped a hand onto my shoulder. "I could get you a blanket."

I spun into his embrace. "No, you'll do just fine yourself."

A broad smile spread across his face. "Damn, I missed you."

My privilege is showing

So I have probably said this often, but TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD is one of my favorite books. Top 5, no question. 

I read it my junior year of high school with a fabulous teacher in a sleepy white farm town in Western New York. I spent a lot time in Buffalo for ballet and had plenty of diverse friends but the people around me didn't. It was a book that changed the tenor of our other discussions in class, not just the ones about TKAM. It was a book that sparked my desire to be a lawyer. 

Aside from the effects on my class social dynamic, I love the life lessons we see through the children's eyes. The innocence of trading trinkets with Boo Radley, the simplicity of bartering goods for services, the hardship of being different, the quiet wisdom and struggle of Atticus, the awkwardly obvious truth in the courtroom. I love so much about this book. 

But, I will admit, that I have found my frustration and rage to be stronger in recent rereads. It felt far more removed from the present when I read it the first time over ten years ago. Now it feels like it could still happen in today's America. And that is terrifying. However, I still really enjoy rereading it and use that anger to fuel me to be better. 

Because of the way the Common Core was implemented in New York, our eighth graders now read TKAM. (Don't get me started on this.) And I mentioned to a black student who was carrying it, how much I like it. 

She didn't exactly lose it on me, but she definitely had an opinion and it blew me away. 

She said she hated it. She said it was just one more story in which the black guy isn't a character, he's a tool to make white people morally better or worse. He's a bullshit lesson. She said she was sick of reading about spoiled white kids FINALLY realizing what she grew up knowing already.  

She went on for several minutes. AND IT BLEW ME AWAY. 

I didn't realize how much of my white privilege was wrapped up in my love of this book. I told her how impressed I was and that I was thinking deeply about she said. 

I still don't know how to feel about loving a book that made a young girl feel so negatively.  I do know that I will be listening and being thoughtful as I keep reading. I know I will encourage my colleagues to value the opinions of their students even when they differ from the established thoughts on a "classic." I know I will endeavor engage my students in content that does not make them constantly feel like the other. 

I know I will fail but I will try to be better. 

bitty words #10

You aren't as cute as the asshole who made me orgasm so many times I forgot to keep count, but I might actually like you.

Red flag #1.

You invited me over to watch an indie movie and I actually wanted to go. I should have fun the other way. Netflix and chill never ends well, right?

What does ending well mean anyway?

I sit cross-legged on the floor, my back against a brown velour loveseat. You do the same but on the other side of the coffee table. Perpendicular to me.

A butterfly dies in my stomach. You've chosen to sit far from me. You've ruled out casual contact in the dark. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't bummed but I don't say anything at all.

This movie is ridiculous. There is no continuity. Except the crabs. The crabs that couldn't have actually lived the entire length of the movie so even that isn't accurate.

You think my unwillingness to suspend my disbelief, my focus on the practical and logistical despite the fact that a turtle literally turns into a woman is funny.

You laugh quietly in the dark and a pang of cellular longing makes me wish I could feel the vibrations of amusement in your chest.

I take a sip of cider and remind myself not to be an idiot. We're watching a movie. You aren't my type. You have never been anything but friendly. You are sitting so far away you cannot possibly be interested.

But I think I like you.

bitty words #9

Back in his apartment I felt awkward. He was lounging on his sectional sofa, stuffing his face full of tacos and I felt supremely superfluous. I perched a section away from him and surveyed his living room in greater detail. He actually had some nice original art on the walls but the rest of it screamed bachelor pad. For some perverse reason, that made me smile.

"Why are you so far away?" he asked, crumpling up yet another taco wrapper.

"Because I am superfluous to your taco feast," I said, truthfully.

"You know, I think I'm starting to like your big words." He smiled. "It's kind of a hot."

I shrugged. I have my fair share of insecurities but my intelligence isn't one of them.

He moved to my section of the sofa. "So, do you have plans for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, just dinner with my mother and sister." Oh, lord. Small talk? Really? "What about you? Do you even have a family or did you just enter the world fully formed like a god?"

He laughed so hard it clapped his hands in that involuntary way that it happens when you're really really amused. "Sadly, no. I'm the youngest, three older sisters and two predictably human parents."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "That explains everything."

"What is that supposed to mean?" There was a distinctly defensive note in his voice that made me smile harder.

I put my hands up in mock surrender. "Nothing, just a little insight into your personality."

"I thought you didn't like my personality." He nudged me with his shoulder then stayed close.

"I don't necessarily but I still find it objectively interesting." I reasoned.

He mumbled "objectively interesting" to himself then looked at me seriously. "Is this what all small talk with you is like?"

I laughed. "Pretty much."

"Hmm" was his only response and I didn't push for more. After a few extra long seconds he asked, "so are you done with small talk then?"

"To be fair, you started the small talk so you're the one to decide if we're done with it or not."

His hand snaked around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. "Oh, I am definitely done with small talk but I'm just getting started with you."

Taking Stock and Looking Ahead

It is 9:26pm on the last day of 2016.

Damn.

When I look at the calendar, I can't figure out where the year went. How did I let another year slip by without living it?

However, that is my brain working against me. I lived A LOT in 2016. It wasn't always happy living but I did it. I've talked about feeling like a disappointment and failure and just not being okay a lot the last few months. But today, I want to remind myself of the living that happened this year. Please forgive my self-indulgence.

I started off the year by getting new glasses, and seeing one of my all time favorite musicals with my family, both blood and found.

I told February to fuck off by cutting my hair (uh oh!). I've been known for my long hair for most of my life. It has always been long (and still is) but this cut was really liberating. Like I was cutting off my baggage with the split ends. I also started a full time teaching job in a city district which was (and continues to be) an adventure.

In March, we proved that musical family is forever no matter who tries to tear you apart. My great uncle also passed away in March. I had only been working for 2 weeks when I had to take off to attend his funeral in Philadelphia.

THOROUGHLY MODERN MIRELLA released in April and it was amazing. I had a fabulous release party with all the wonderful people in my life. Except my mom. It sucked that she wasn't there but my grandmother (who has lived with us since I was 5) had started to go drastically down hill and she had to take care of her.  I also went to Lake Placid for a conference in April. That was kickass and a great weekend away with grad school friends.

May saw me graduate (without my thesis done) from graduate school. Again my mom was not there and it felt weirdly anti-climatic without her. However, I am glad she spent the time with my grandmother because at the end of the month, my grandmother passed away. She was 91 and lived an INCREDIBLE life, but it was hard to say goodbye.

One of my very good friends from high school got married in June. It was at a beautiful vineyard and my best friend and I had the best possible time. Big hats, salsa dancing, and shirley temples! Woohoo!

I checked off a major bucket list item in July when I went to Europe for the first time. I chaperoned a high school trip with my old teachers and students I love from the musical. It was amazing. I cannot wait to go back. I also painted one of my houses purple - suck it elementary school bullies!

In August, I got my ass back in the studio and started with intense ballet class and Nutcracker rehearsal. We also cleaned out and sold my great uncle's house where we found an old strong box. It turned out to have the original house deed and a pillow case full of silver coins in it.

In September I went back to work teaching (I was working full time over the summer doing online teaching but I went back to the classroom). With my first paycheck, I splurged and bought tickets for my BFF and I to go to the Theatre Gala in our city. It was perfection. And wine. So much wine.

I turned 27 in October! I also went on a boozey Halloween bike tour and had a one night stand. October was a weird month...

November took me to an all time low. My teaching job was crushing my soul. I was working my ass off for Nutcracker and still trying to be a regular human. My purse was stolen. I failed a lot in November. On a literal daily basis. But I survived.

December was Nutcracker. It was making costumes, surviving the worse cold I've had in years, and dancing more than I have in almost a decade. My life felt like a cluster fuck but it was actually pretty great.

Some bad stuff happened this year. It wasn't perfect. But a ton of great stuff happened too. I'm surviving. It isn't always easy but I'm packing as much as I can (even if it isn't as much as I'd like) into each day.

Here's to surviving 2017 in much the same way but with a little more emphasis on self-care.