#my spanish writing is weak and i think this is the perfect way to strengthen it :)

[mikichko]

años después, mientras los rayos del sol alumbran la cocina, Nanami se dará cuento de algo.

Tu te encuentras por la mesa, agachada hablando con una niña de pelo colócho y ojos caramelo. Hablan en voz baja, tus manos guiando las manos de la niña formando la masa bajo el alumbró del sol. Ríen y le das un beso en el cachete, murmurando que buen trabajo hace.

En frente de el, un niño con pelo rubio y ojos cafe, jala su mano. Nanami se agacha, tomando las cuerdas miniaturas en sus manos. Juntos los dos cantan la canción del conejito.

Cuando el se levanta, se miran. En ese momento el entiende que es la verdadera felicidad. Entiende las historias de sus amigos, donde hablan de sentirse finalmente en casa. En su lugar.

Aquí, en estas montañas, lejos de la crueldad de Tokyo; en esta cocina contigo y sus hijos, el entiende.

Ya no sobrevive. Finalmente el vive.

[iwannabewherethepeopleare-blog1]

God, dan was the cutest thing when i first saw him. He was like ‘emily scott.”

and i knew his last name too. alright i’ll change it. no i don’t feel like it.

he gave me a free training trial. him focusing on my body, like that. i had never had that before. that much attention. on my “abilities”

and i went to molly stones and sampled some bread and looked at how much money i had in my account in the chase machine. and then i texted dan and i told him i was going to buy a bunch of sessions..

so the i started working with dan.

and i was that girl. who worked with dan, three times a week. and i was his favorite. and he was mine.

it was stupid stuff though, looking back. mobility. which i already had naturally. i needed strength back. but i also needed confidence back. and that he gave some back. and he gave me a reason to live. i mean, yes, i wanted to do him. so i made myself into a woman who was interested in pole dancing and i made myself into a woman that i thought he would like. but it was actually impossible, because he only liked asian women.

which gave me vagina size envy. so in some ways, i feel i can relate to guys in that way with their penis size issues…..like you really needed me to write that out.

at the same time, i also had a job at my old high school. with the students with special needs. and being back in the classroom felt like punishment. and i am not meant to work with students with special needs. those people who do, are the most special people. i think i more was a person with special needs. i believe that the gut is a second brain, and most people have it. but i did not. and i think it affected everything. i mean, i could barely read a book.

going back to work at my high school made me realize how little i remembered from high school.

its a strange sensation, to be trying to remember this time, but then also try to remember what i was remembering during that time.

i remembered the way this guy named ian treated a girl named katie. i remembered a skirt i wore. i remembered my locker. i remembered the spanish teacher and her bold pens. i remembered farting on the grass. i remember seeing that girl who later became my Facebook star, eating nachos. i remembered being on campus at night after rehearsing the anne frank reenactment and smelling the flowers. more flowers. honey suckles.

and there was a girl named grace in the class, who i bonded with, i guess. she thought i was so special. thought i was so amazing. told me so. i didn’t really see what her special needs were. she seemed funny and bright, yet she was put into class with kids who were having small temper tantrums and freak outs and no egos.

i pined for this trainer. i was training with him three times a week and part of our training was me laying on the floor face down and lifting my legs up and to the side. and then sort of panting like it was such hard work. but it was more like creaky work. just exploring new territory of the hips. in front of this man. who i was paying so much money.

“it’s not fitness. it’s life.”

i went in one night, alone. and just angrily “pumped iron” i looked so weak, to myself. i looked like this half version of myself. like someone had forgotten to shade me in.

he was strengthening my butt.

and i ate so many sardines.

don’t ever ever ever make me at another sardine. and sweet potatoes for breakfast. and sweet potatoes invading my mouth. it took so long for them to cool down. i needed to shove that dense starch into my teeth as soon as possible.

there were some equinox parties. shit shows for all of the employees.

i wore a stupid little dress from goodwill and when i say stupid, it did nothing for me and it was just tight and not pretty. it was just a body suit. it wasn’t a dress. i wish i could have worn a rain coat. thats what i would have been most comfortable in, back then.

but instead i exposed myself with a line where my tights were.

and before that party, i had a small workout at the gym that included splits and all that. and i got a ride home from this guy who thought i was going to go down on him. i brushed my teeth in front of him.

i am an odd person. so daring in my endeavors. or i was.

when i got to the equinox party, i ended up singing “i’m not going to write you a love song, because you asked me……” the sara barellies one…. and i remember this girl named nikki watching me. it was so pathetic. i mean, instead of singing my heart out, i just focused on what my abs were doing. oh my god.

and then i went up stairs and took pictures with the other girls who worked at the kids club. they were sweet. the whole thing was sweet. and their smiling faces were this coating that i needed, to coat over the palo alto weirdness i mean, you try going back to your home town.

i dare you.

and i continued “training” and when i went to the pole dancing classes… finally. i could barely fit it into my schedule. i also had another job of walking a girl to her cheer leading class. and as we walked we felt the ground beneath our feet and she said she wanted new shoes because she could feel the rocks a little too much. and i sang songs or did whatever i could to brighten her day. and while she was in class i’d listen to the aberham hicks stuff on you tube.

“are you refreshed? we must appreciate the contrast because without it we could never be in the vortex!!!’

(i am in the vortex now and i am what she calls “milking it”

and then i’d walk her home. and all the while i did everything on my bike. no car.

and i had found a little place to live. it was the perfect little place. a little room off of a house. a converted garage…. owned by a woman who knows how to live so well, she’s so old. and a sweet dog. and i could do anything in that room. i could do a little victory dance when i got a text from dan.

then my dad died.