awaken the time machine

is it just the feeling
that drives this machine
to constant churning?

is it just the thought
that vibrates every
nut and bolt?

or is there more to it?

I imagine it could not be
anything but the memory
of once was.

It couldn't be anything but
the flash of a reminder
that you're gone.

it's impossible.
such a feeble emotion
couldn't possibly move the
iron rods to labor.

In fact, it wasn't any of those things.
not a lukewarm feeling or thought, and
neither memory nor reminder were the
catalysts for the awakening of such a machine.

no...none of these...



only your touch and your scent
and only your voice and the look in your eyes
could move this rusted machine deep within me;
allowing my heart to bleed where i lay...

here i am standing outside your house,
pacing up and down the street;
along the corner of right and wrong.
and not knowing whether to run
or stay.

one thing i know, i may wander but, i'll never
stray.

what was hidden behind your eyes
was pain in disguise.
i know this because i know me.
stop your foolish games and pay
attention.

i need you to be strong and stop pretending to play
a no one.

and so i cast it out, yet again.
how strange it is to always think things i never say
it's a plague...this constant way.

I've got to get a copy of this film!

This looks too funny to me.



Directed by Michelle Lehman, last year’s Tropfest Australia winning film, Marry Me, tells a little love story about “a little girl who likes a little boy and a little boy who likes his BMX bike”. The film was inspired by a true story when director, Michelle, at 5 years of age, would chase Jason Mahooney around the school in a pretend wedding dress (her mother’s nightie).

the mailman looks like ray lamontagne

which has nothing to do with this post. but i had to tell you before i couldn't tell you.





now, then.

people are always confessing things on the backs of their cars. i try to understand it. and all i can infer is that it's a little less like wearing your heart on your sleeve, and more like wearing your heart on your heiny.

by and large, bumper stickers serve as the bane of my existence. but every once in a knock back, i see one that makes me think. or laugh.

usually they just make me want to rear end someone real hard like.apologies to God and darling All-State commercial man.

today i saw one that read "my child received a great report at her dental exam!" well done, mini-van mom.

don't think my mother ever received one of those bumper stickers after my check-ups. as a child, i probably received mostly C's on my dental report card. C's being cavities. though better than F's which i assume is false teeth.


this is precisely what was trying to explain to a dentist gentleman i met last night when i decided to partake in the awkward art of mingling.

however, what i should have known is that shows are the one excuse not to make a fool of yourself. when in doubt, just let the music talk.

or if you're me, talk above the music.

quite naturally, when this guy mentioned his profession involved oral decay and Novocaine, i felt the need to confess to him that i haven't been flossing as often as i ought.

he told me that was gross. and that even supposing he wasn't a dentist, i should keep things like this to myself as a general rule of thumb.

noted. cause he was probably right. probably shouldn't tell ya that my hands get clammy when i'm nervous. or that i would rather be run over by a bicycle than go on a first date. or that my favorite widgit is "word of the day."

cause then you would know that i'm a dorky old soul, which is not to be confused with a hip vintage soul.


confession can take you out with just a couple swings. but i'm not convinced the catholics were wrong to take the hit.


so, here goes.

sometimes i try to earn my spot in your heart. sometimes i try to say all the clever things i can muster. try to find a stage and a microphone or an outfit and a blog so that you'll see me. and once you've seen me i try to make it worth your while. cause then you'll keep me around. and you won't throw me out of the life boat when we've run out of seats.

and we WILL run out of seats.


that's why i'm taking a lenten break from this whole being "online relevant." it's my own fantastically feeble interpretation of monastacism. it's as unpublic as i get.


instead, i wanna read about you. to be thrilled with your stories. to jot down that glorious quote you wrote last week. to laugh when you post a funny link without worrying bout how to embed it on my page. wanna be your biggest fan mostly, if you'll let me.

if you get too downhearted about my blogging absence(ha) just compare it to last years writers strike.

true or false, the office came back stronger than ever?





.... come to think, false.

crap.

How do you do? Not so good.

A lot has happened. A lot is going to happen. I need to take some time off, recuperate, and prepare myself.

truth or...

it's been a decade and some change since anyone has double dog dared me.


which means the potential to become a 'weak sauce' could soon be actualized. *shudder*




just can't allow for such. and that's why i take it upon myself to present challenges mostly every day.


something to the effect of

allison, i dare you to eat that entire [slice of] pineapple cake.
: that's so crazy. okay.

dare you to never work out again a day in your life.
: i'll do it, but you're killin me smalls.

bet you can't even be a total dork-wad in public.
: how much you wanna bet fool?




done. done and done.



i never get to the double dog part. cause i'm good at all those.



if you don't mind, i'm going to go on and say what everyone's thinking...

must be rough to be such a brave human being (?)