it's a sad day in the ashleigh literary world.  my favorite author, frank mccourt, died last night.  i can't begin to express how that man's writing shaped the way my life has played out since first reading my father's dog-eared copy of Angela's Ashes.  I didn't want to be a teacher until I read his books, and now, I don't know any other option.  He was in the inspiration for everything.  

I'd always dreamed about running into him in a New York coffee shop and telling him how much his writing changed me.  I'll have to wait for that chance meeting now.

Rest in Peace, Frankie.

i never want it to go back.  

this quiet, this freedom and peace.  i don't understand how i ever did without.

the messes are mine, and i clean them because they are such.  i turn off the lights and go to bed at a reasonable hour not because someone is telling me to, but because i know it's healthy for me.  i cook meals not to feed others, but because i know i have to feed myself.

it's pretty much official...any doubts i had about leaving home have been pushed aside after this weekend.

i am so ready to be independent.  new chapter of my life, one month to go.

this has been the most lovely weekend!

the whole family has been gone, so i've had the house to myself since saturday morning.  saturday night i had a date night with casey, indian food, rauchenzeit with michelle and good, good conversation.  it was a luxury to come home to an empty house, spread my painting things out in the living room and play music as loud as i wanted.

last night, i had a few friends over for dinner.  i managed to recreate the pasta sauce we had on the Last Night with a certain level of accuracy, except for the fact that I had to use Hunts tomato paste as opposed to Oro Di Parma (the greatest paste ever, IMHO.)  We had wine and champagne and a cake that I baked, and it was so wonderful just to sit with good people, laughing til my sides hurt.

it was a bit of a shock this morning to walk into the kitchen and see the aftermath of my night:  a sauce-splattered oven, sink full of dishes, and a counter smeared with chocolate frosting and ringed with winemarks.  I've got quite a day of cleaning ahead of me, but for now, I'm enjoying No Reservations and my newfound lust for Anthony Bourdain's pithy voiceover commentaries.

love and kisses,

ashleigh

There is a house by the sea

And an ocean between it and me

And like the shape of a wave

The jealous sisters will sing on my grave

And I've been living to run where they led

And I've been dying to rise from their bed

And I've been sparing my neck from their chain

And they've been changing the sound of my name

And I've been swimming to them in my sleep

And I've been dreaming our love and our freedom

1. i'm sick at cranky and hot, so in general, pretty miserable

BUT

2. i just got frozen yogurt with my aunt and have a happy tummy.

3. going to the city tonight with rachelle and spencer.  i can't wait to take pictures under the stars looking stylish and holding hands.

4. my family is ridiculous.  1.5 more months.

it's time for ashleigh to be a stress monkey!

i have a paper due in two days that i should be writing right now, but instead i'm sitting outside and drinking coffee and blogging and generally shirking anything resembling "scholarly duties".  went to the coops this morning to pick up a few pounds of coffee for my friend, stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing but folgers to drink.  poor man.  :-(  i can't wait until i'm here and settled and i can buy fresh fruits and veg at the coop without my mum getting on my case for wasting money at things i could have bought at winco for cheaper.

on an aside, the weather today is gorgeous.  it's warm, but there's a breeze blowing and my legs look fabulous in little denim shorts.  i'm happy.  nothing like the sadness that i had last week. maybe i'm just adjusting, relearning how to do things by myself.  it feels like an accomplishment, however small.

if i finish my schoolwork early enough i'll write the two letters i need to get done, and maybe get some poems on paper that have been floating around in my head.  otherwise i'm just gonna keep on swimming and smiling and generally enjoying life :-)

-all at once-

you were all at once

a bird and a tree branch

both broken, 

a stick in the grass and a trail

of feathers speckled with blood

you were a skyscraper

at dawn

back ringed by pink light

and a mute mouth

choking on promises

that could not be spoken

you were a sailboat 

with a broken mast and

the waves that stole it from you

both creation and

destruction

two colliding forces contained

by tanned skin and a 

need to fly

-untitled-

on the first night of the

new year we stood, 

smoking, surrounded by sculptures

with exposed breasts

and the air was electricity

our hands, conducters

we sent sparks into trees

and they burned in the dark

the only sirens were low, hushed

admontions of absolute fact

"it's getting late."

"our soles are touching."

"please, don't stop." 

when we got out of bed there

was ash in your hair

and my mouth was bruised

but i licked away the evidence

and sent the burden

of my secret out into the world,

spread out charred before

our feet

stealing beauty through the 

fire in our bellies

"Do you ever miss him?" she asks me.

"Every day.  Every minute."

"Every minute," she says.  "Yes.  It's that way, isn't it?"  She turns on her side and burrows into the pillow.

"Goodnight," I say, turning out the lamp.  As I stand in the dark looking down at Grandma in the bed, self pity floods me as though I have been injected with it.  It's that way, isn't it?  Isn't it.

I'm rereading The Time Traveler's Wife and every few pages or so there's this big shuddering breath and I'm close to tears again, and I can't help thinking that somewhere there's a Henry and I'm that big missing chunk of his future, and all I have to do is be patient but I'm so tired with the waiting and missing him.  I think I am in love with a stranger, a ghost, someone without a name or a face but someone who is so entirely mine.  

I don't want to be alone.  I don't want to think about these days like giant puzzle pieces and going through the tedious process of fitting them all together until some day in the as-of-yet undetermined future when I can finally see the bigger picture, and I can delight in the completion of everything.

Today is a puzzle piece day.  It has no meaning so far out of context.  I am alone and missing him (whoever he is).  After class I will go out and get too inebriated to think clearly and maybe then it will make the burden of this longing a little easier to bear.