bird by bird

Today was my first day of my Creative Writing Non-Fiction Seminar. It felt like I was in a room surrounded by paints, and I couldn't wait to get my hands on a brush. My professor said, "Life and the world and people are a mystery. Writing is a response to that." I think he's right. So you keep painting and responding, and I'll keep writing.

Once upon a time there was an English girl living in lonely castle on the outskirts of town, past the Hy-Vee, in the village of Vermillia. She had one cool roommate named KS, but KS was often whisked away by the evil dragon, Lawskull. Alone the English girl was, and she grew quite sad that all of her friends had moved on. The English girl was especially sad one day because one of her dearest friends, MD, went to the distant land called Heaven, and she knew it would be a long time before she saw her dear friend MD again. She cried and cried and cried in her cinder block castle. Then one day, she came back to her castle to find beautiful yellow flowers and a note that said the perfect thing. It was left by her friend the Prince, DP. He was traveling through Vermillia and left the English girl the flowers and note to cheer her up. The English girl became so happy. She did the fairy tale equivalent of texting the the Prince DP to come over if he was still in the village. He was! He came ba

I hear the beer in heaven is even better than at Carey's. Enjoy and save me a spot at your booth.

I've been talking to my dad a lot more lately, and I know that he'll be there on the other side waiting to welcome her. And someday they will be there to welcome us, too.

I applied to be a substitute teacher today, and I had to go to the Police Station to get finger printed. As Officer What's-his-name was taking each finger and placing it carefully on the glass scanner, I had a thought. Actually my first thought was, "Wow, this is most physical contact I've had with a man in months!" But then after that, I thought, "Wow, I am just like a snow flake." It's kind of cool, you know, that we all have this one thing that is different from everyone else. My fingerprints are not your fingerprints. Sometimes I judgmentally group people together (freshman, redheads, criminals, Mormons, men), but today I was reminded that even if we look alike at first glance, we're all uniquely designed. And it's a good thing, too.

Reasons why I would make a shitty girlfriend: I don't really like talking on the phone, and sometimes I just need a night out with the girls. I can only really cook pasta and microwave vegetables, and that's about it. Holding hands in public weirds me out. I don't shave my legs every day. Or shower. I don't  like watching football on TV, but I love hearing it in the background. I am probably taller than you. I sweat when I dance. I need to control the music in the car. I sing along. I really like getting back rubs, but I'm not great at giving them. I have commitment issues. I get headaches a lot. Really, I do. I rarely wear high heels because they hurt my feet. I can jump start my own car battery and change my own tire; I don't need your help. Reasons why I would make a stellar girlfriend: Moms love me, and I'm pretty nice most of the time.

Gems in Dark by Megan Dirks, 2010 Ground Play by Megan Dirks, 2010

Thank you for the card, and you for the fb message, and you for the hug. I'm thinking of you too. It feels nice taking care of each other, doesn't it?

I had a dream about you and orange juice last night. I dreamed that we were at a high school basketball game, and your hair was starting to grow back. You were getting healthier, and you asked me for some orange juice. I ran around searching for orange juice. I ran past players and referees and people with backpacks. I ran up bleachers and in halls and down bleachers. I needed to find you orange juice, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. And then I woke up in my cold, dark room and I realized that your hair isn't growing back, and you aren't getting healthier. And no matter how fast and hard I run to find you orange juice, I can't make you better. I just can't.

"You are lucky to be one of those people who wishes to build sand castles with words, who is willing to create a place where your imagination can wander. We build this place with the sand of memories; these castles are our memories and inventiveness made tangible. So part of us believes that when the tide starts coming in, we won't really have lost anything, because actually only a symbol of it was there in the sand. Another part of us thinks we'll figure out a way to divert the ocean. This is what separates artists from ordinary people: the belief, deep in our hearts, that if we build our castles well enough, somehow the ocean won't wash them away. I think this is a wonderful kind of person to be." --Anne Lamott

Thursday, Friday, Saturday. Please come and take some stuff off my hands.

....For transporting my sick macbook from the evil doctors in Sioux City to trained professionals in Sioux Falls (LS) ....For including me in your big city lives and your plans to "pay your taxes." (GG and JW) ....For telling me you love the throw pillows and magnets I made you even though there is a good chance they will fall apart/break before their first use (JK) ....For reassuring me that I am ready to take off my Midwest training wheels (EH) ....For remembering me on my birthday, and the day after that, and the day after that (--) ....For honoring and including me on the biggest day of your life: July 9th, 2011!! (TB) ....For calling me and emailing me relentlessly even though I SUCK at returning said calls/emails. (CS) ....For getting our apartment all set up and calming Judy down (KS) ....For sending me new music (though I can't enjoy until I get my computer back..) (MM) ....For sending me funny texts about Shania Twain and signing them "love, mom.&qu

  If you are at first lonely, be patient. If you've not been alone much, or if when you were, you weren't okay with it, then just wait. You'll find it's fine to be alone once you're embracing it. We could start with the acceptable places, the bathroom, the coffee shop, the library. Where you can stall and read the paper, where you can get your caffeine fix and sit and stay there. Where you can browse the stacks and smell the books. You're not supposed to talk much anyway so it's safe there. There's also the gym. If you're shy you could hang out with yourself in mirrors, you could put headphones in (guitar stroke). And there's public transportation, because we all gotta go places. And there's prayer and meditation. No one will think less if you're hanging with your breath seeking peace and salvation. Start simple. Things you may have previously (electric guitar plucking) based on your avoid being alone principals.

One year ago today I started TA training. It was... intense. I was overwhelmed and stressed out and at the end of the two week training, absolutely terrified to teach a class full of 18 year old freshman. But deep down I still imagined myself strutting into my classroom on the first day like Hilary Swank in Freedom Writers , teaching rebellious and disinterested students the beauty of writing. It didn't really work out that way. One student hit on me, one threatened me, and one fell asleep on the second day of class. It's funny because Freedom Writers is on TV right now, and I can't help but think, "Hilary, you are full of shit."

You know how sometimes you have to leave a place and come back to really appreciate it? Recently some of my long lost friends from Denver, Chicago, and Paris have come back into my South Dakota life, and they have all articulated this sentiment in some way. They now appreciate getting from point A to point B without having to make 3 train stops and pass a half a dozen homeless people. They appreciate the lower cost of milk and rent. But most of all, I think they appreciate being closer to the people that they love. I think that's refreshing. I also think that's why I need to get out of here for a while. I need to learn to appreciate again.

I love this band!

Last night I took my students bowling. None of them had ever bowled before. They all beat me. I have so many mosquito bites, I'm worried I actually have the chicken pox. Last night I was so desperate for relief that I put Vicks vapor rub on the itchy spots. It didn't work; now I just smell bad. There are no windows in my bedroom. It is dark when I go to bed and dark when I get out of bed. It reminds me of January. Can a person get SAD in August?

Last night I had a dream I ended up pregnant from a one night stand with a little person. I also didn't know I was pregnant until I had given birth. I also didn't know the father was a little person until I found him hiding in my mom's closet while I broke the news to her that she was a grandma. My baby suddenly looked like an 8 year old. He was taller than his one-night-stand father. And CS got married again so she could have a purple wedding dress. Then my mom got a new microwave. Never smoking swisher sweets before bed again!

I have been listening to this song non-stop this summer starting in the backseat of a volvo in Lawrence, KS and continuing as I go for walks around the stupid, wonderful college town of Vermillion. This morning I saw the video on Vh1, and I was PISSED. Please Radio God, don't make it popular. Please?