alma matters

I remember walking in to that lecture hall and looking around hoping to see a friendly face. At Emerson, friendly faces were in short supply, and I was still wounded from the emotionally ass kickings I routinely received at my townie suburban high school- I didn't hold out much hope. Then I saw HER.

Golden hair blowing like she was in a Stevie Nicks video, backlit with doves flying from an unseen cage behind her folding chair...pretty lady, will you be friends with me? I must have looked like fucking grizzly adams. Gigantic faux-fur leopard coat and a head full of knotted fro-frizz that matched my dirty and matted jacket. I breathed through my mouth a lot in those days...unaware that I was in the middle of a record breaking awkward phase that started in 5th grade and went on until about 3 years ago. People used to laugh when I talked, mostly because I had a baby voice that came out of this mean looking pile of hair and black eyeliner and rotted converse shoes.

"Is it alright if I sit here?" Please be nice to me nice looking person, you seem like you'll be nice to me. And she was, it was Lesley and she was smart and hilarious, she hated Earnestness just as much as I did and agreed with me that most of those kids were taking themselves waaaay too seriously.

I was scared shitless throughout college, and completely convinced that my admission to the writing program had been some sort of horrible mistake. All these people considered themselves to be POETS or some goddamn JD Salinger in training, and here I was, writing my pointless little stories and playing with Halloween makeup. I might have amused my friends and impressed some high school English teacher who was routinely spit on by his students, but this was the BIG TIME and I was OUT OF MY LEAGUE. Sweet merciful mother of god was I ever cruel to myself back in those days.

Lesley was sweet to me and didn't make me feel like I was sloth from Goonies. We watched awful videos together, we laughed and roamed the streets. I introduced her to my thuggish friends, they all immediately wanted to marry her but she and M were rock solid at the time.. No dice homies! She introduced me to Alisa and we ate more croissants than we should have at the Cafe de Paris..ooh lala! We giggled through workshop classes and tried not to look at each other during the really tough readings....

Oh Monkey...

shaved tail clinging to cold table

electrodes pressed to soft flesh

your body convulses and then lies still

did you die for me...monkey?

to be continued