In
dusting the cobwebs of my mind and the old blue book I started to remember that
I created this list during a time of major transition in my life. I had completed college, had a county job and
suddenly faced the ruins of college romance.
I had no idea if I should stay in Humboldt County or move 700 miles back
to a place I hadn’t called home in seven years.
In the midst of this turmoil I had two friends who were helping me nurse
my wounds of life as they were nursing their own. On one rare occasion that I was in my
apartment, having started to take root in my friend’s house, I sat down and
jotted down my list. I can’t remember
why I did this or what motivated me to do so but the list was created. The list I posted is only slightly different
from what lays in the blue book. I
deleted two (I’ll talk about that later) and I added last two to reflect where
I am currently in life.
I
have to say I laughed thinking that I completed #38 and #39 first. Most people who know me see me as an
extrovert… you know that friend of yours who laughs way too loud, is up for a
little public humiliation and will start a conversation with a stranger…that’s
me or so people think. In my heart beats
a shy person. Teased through primary and
middle school I parlayed that into a semi-extravert in high school and college. But as I said, in my heart I’ll always feel
shy/scared and thus singing Karaoke and reading poetry in 1997 seemed like an
extreme action.
I
must have been on some sort of roll in 1997 because only 10 days later I
completed #39. I have written poems on
and off throughout my lifetime but I’ve never written enough to tell people I
like poetry or to even utter the word poem from my lips.
However,
in 1997 I was writing poems to release the frustration of a broken heart. Now these poems weren’t “I love you, I miss
you, come back”. These were more like “I
love you, I miss you and if I see you in a dark alley your family will miss you
too”. I’m not sure how I found this out
or who told me but the Jambalaya in Arcata had a poetry night and I knew it was
something I wanted to do. I took my best
poems and my best galpal Sal and we made our way to the Jambalaya. I was sober for this and was so scared but Sal
my faithful cheerleader/tough-love-advisor made it very clear I was staying. I don’t remember being called up nor do I
remember the words that came out of my mouth (although I have the poems
somewhere) but I do remember the harsh white spotlight on my face and the
wonderful applause as I left the stage. What’s
important and burns in my memory are these two moments which were: when I sat
down Sal turned to me and said “I’m so proud of you, it’s like you’re my
kid”! And when we left the doorman said,
“You were my favorite poet of the night”.
He probably said that to everyone, but I will always believe he only
said that to me!!
So
here’s to #38 and #39 probably the hardest things on my list but I’m ever
grateful they were the first.
