Somebody's Hero
watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants with my sister while the sun shines through the cracks in our closed blinds and mu stomach tosses and turns the chicken dumplings i downed a half hour ago. this summer is dragging on and on but at least the nightmares have stopped and i can sleep again. I guess i was dragging around all this bad energy but once that floral pant wearing artist put her magic hands on me i was centered again.
yesterday we ran accross car filled roads, dodging trucks filled with trashy hicks who hollered at me out the window and honked with dirty fingers. they don't see me- just a tall blonde in a tank top. they aren't close enough to see the blue eyes, peace sign necklace, dreams of european cafe's and 18th birthdays. they don't see an artist, a girlfriend, a daughter, a dreamer. they see a piece of ass. sometimes this world makes me sick. open your eyes all you gritty truck drivers of america, that seventeen year old you honked at is so much more than another girl to honk at.
you held my hand even though i was dripping sweat and my toes were still caked with dirt from the soggy lawn at the Dave Matthews concert. we found refuge in Barnes n Noble while you flipped through UFC magazines and I looked at glossy pictures of toned perfection. 31 moves to get your abs toned this summer. 20 foods to slim down. how about 100 reasons why i should put down this magazine and start loving myself in spite of the fact that I am so far from these starving beauties? that's what i should be reading. by the time we picked up your car from Pep Boys my purple eyeshadow was smudging and my head felt too heavy on my neck. thankfully, I had you to rest it on while we waited in traffic and your dad yelled at you to get your head out of your ass. we both laughed silently as the sun beat down on your adorable farmers tan. If my camera wasn't so heavy I'd be snapping pictures of us at that red light, but it is so the last time i felt my finger on that button was at my cousins birthday party. we filled three tables at Friday's and her strawberry blonde hair looked shinier than ever. Her blue eyes are so full of the world and when she looks at me I feel like i could actually be somebody's hero. When she reaches up for me to hold her,
I feel like I deserve to be looked at that way. I feel like I want to hold her forever.
2 comments:
That's how I feel about YOU.
You are so almost famous, my beautiful girl.
Stay true. I love you....
Yeah, yer pretty good! How do you remember all those details? That's true talent. Incredible, really moving stuff. Your decription of the little one is how I feel with all of matt and michelle's kids. I don't think I've ever had an experience with them I didn't feel supremely joyful and incredibly confident, as if I would be the greatest dad in the world. They're adorable beings and I love visiting with them...as I do you, Amanda, and Jon.
"Hallelujah" by Jeff Buckley is playing now. That's an centuries-old melody he adapted with some new lyrics and some of the old ones, you know. I really like "So Real" off that album. You know I have a friend in London (who's on facebook as Johnnie Oddball) who puts on a yearly tribute to the late Jeff Buckley in the UK. He's even gone to LA and gone to Jeff's mothers house. You know his father was 60s folk artist Tim Buckley, equally as good. Try and find "Once I was a Soldier..."
Finally, I noticed A LITTLE ROMANCE was atop your Most Beautiful Movies list. I told Brian to buy that for you, I think, so I feel incredibly good to know you loved it. It's the most obscure movie on my top ten of all time list. I've yet to write about it on filmicability, but maybe I will soon. It's the single greatest love story ever filmed. Period. So touching on so many levels. If you're not crying out of joy and pain during the last two scenes of that movie, you're made of cold stone, in my opinion. No movie makes me weep as soul-deeply as A LITTLE ROMANCE. It's represents everything I wanted love to be when I saw it at 12. And I think it succeeds in capturing the soaring highs and crushing lows of first love quite accurately (this was what my first love was like, if perhaps a great deal more tortured; but also with a great deal many more aching laffs!!!)
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