121/365

things I want to remember about march:

electric yellow forsythia
the making of a buttery oniony heavenly marcella tomato sauce
the making of it again and again 
my first silent book club
ezra's sculpture on exhibit, my heart burst wide open
a box of clothes from the nineties, unearthed
the ordering of a clear bubble umbrella
sumo oranges, gold nugget mandarins
the sky on fire over ponce
things I wanted to tell my newly sixteen year-old niece and her friends, but didn't
sunrise over the city, twenty-one floors up, hotel like a space ship
marshmallow peeps received from my dad in the mail, handwritten letter, twenty dollar bill taped to the box
flower petals like paper confetti, all over our driveway
swirling in shopping mall parking lots, on highways and sidewalks
caught in veinous concrete cracks underneath the most unremarkable parkways
papery petals everywhere, I tell you, the onslaught of spring 
my hands drawn by ava, exquisitely, on a monday afternoon
the sketchbook of hellos, thrifted
the kids in the hammock, reading 
nape of my neck now completely bare, tufts of hair at my feet
my favorite rauschenberg on the very last day of the month
honey light in the living room around seven, finally
and that cardinal song

120/365

the only life hacks I'm really interested in:

juice from jars of maraschino cherries poured directly into glasses of lemonade
chocolate cake stuffed inside empty jam jars for smuggling into movie theatres
canvas drop cloths at the ready to throw over any messes I no longer wish to look at and/or deal with

119/365

lists I started to make tonight but promptly deleted:

reasons I broke up with my laundromat
spectacular falls I have taken
things about grief

118/365

things seen on my walk yesterday:

bloom explosions like tiny lilac firecrackers
a tree stump the size of a small car
three little free libraries
one bright orange door
one pink plastic ribbon
folks on bikes, everywhere
swirls of pale yellow pollen in every puddle, every single one
and a cardinal, that swooped past at the very last minute

three years ago

march, three years ago (march, a lifetime ago)

117/365

things we are doing right now, right this second, as I am sitting here writing this:

wishing for cake
wishing for ice cream
talking to our cats
pretending the dishes from dinner are not everywhere
watching videos about liza minelli and lamps
counting the hours, the minutes, the seconds, the nanoseconds til spring break

116/365

songs that are doing it for me today:

peach fuzz (KMD)
ok, meet me underwater (jay som)
beating myself up (cuckoolander)

(thank you for that last one, tracy)

115/365

seen at the thrifts this morning:

a giant plastic golden key
seven televisions
four bamboo parasols
thirteen danielle steele novels
thirty-five pairs of rubber turquoise flip flops
a brass turtle holding a pair of salt and pepper shakers
an unfinished cross stitch piece
jimmy swaggart on vinyl
the shooter's bible, 103rd edition (not even kidding)
a bubblegum pink beanbag, primarily beanless
a sketchbook with the word HELLO scribbled in pencil on every single one of the first thirty-three pages

(yes of course I bought that sketchbook)

114/365

small pleasures, part six:

birthday candles
empty bonne maman jam jars
book stacks
car singing
shower singing
maraschino cherries
motel neon

113/365

things I wish I still had, part one:

my 110 camera
my charlie's angels lunchbox
my OG roller skates with the royal blue stripes
my dad's brown leather maranatha wrist cuff
and all his old adidas shirts from the seventies
my very first pair of brown wooden clogs
also, my twenty-something optimism
and the missing piece from my mom's sterling silver dogwood ring that, unbeknownst to me, broke off whilst I was in a department store dressing room rage, trying on a thousand horrible, miserable bras

112/354

films I am crazy excited to see this year:

the last black man in san francisco
amazing grace
synonyme
us
diane
family
the farewell
booksmart
her smell
satan + adam
little women

111/365

things that can always, always be found in my purse, part one:

lip gloss

reading glasses

confetti

110/365

things to do this spring:

open windows
hoard orange jelly beans
read books under exploding trees 
walk down streets in unknown neighborhoods
color easter eggs til fingers are sufficiently stained
defend marshmallow peeps
defend defend defend
buy records
pick strawberries
steam asparagus
shoot polaroids
share polaroids
pack up car
get out of town
plant things
plant things
I WILL PLANT THINGS

109/365

things that delighted me today:

episodes of shrill
a seat by the window
the very idea of a poppy apocalypse

108/365

the sun came up this morning and I got out of bed and I tried again. and, I made it. I made it to the end of another day. tonight:

still a little tired
not nearly as scared
still hopeful
still hopeful
still hopeful