well,

it finally happened.

and i am so happy about that.

half-birthdays

today is my half birthday.

if somebody asks me how old i am,

i will say in all seriousness,

"twenty-three and a half."

i will continue to say this until

i am twenty-three and three-quarters.

today i got one half of a birthday card,

but one whole cupcake

(minus one bite).

did you ever have a half birthday party

when you were a kid?

i think i did when i turned three and a half

or maybe it was four and a half.

i got a ball to play with that looked like a ninja turtle.

i think we should celebrate half birthdays for everybody.

so find out when yours is

and make your friends celebrate it.

sedgwick

for lefty

i much prefer

the white noise of

the country;

swarms of bees for

vibrating cell phones,

the wind in the scrub

humming like a freeway

that will never run through it,

birds’ murmurs, cattle cries

instead of car horns, sirens.

your ears,

marred by screeching

el trains and cab drivers,

say life in the country

is too quiet.

but mine say be still

and hear the cacophony

of coyotes, bulls, birds

and breeze.

such beautiful noise.

fire building

to build a fire is

a great art.

i half-watched my father do it

more times than i can actually

remember,

but never quite understood

how to get it right.

i have tried various methods

and in the process have filled

the entire house

with headache-inducing smoke.

but tonight i chose to ignore

what everybody else has said

about building a fire

and did it the way dad used to.

the house still filled with smoke,

but we were warm.

there was a smell i used to notice

upon entering the house in the fall,

one that i hasn't recurred in some time.

but i think in the morning

when i have gone to collect more wood

to start a new fire,

the smell will be there

and remain until the spring time

when the cool of our house again becomes

a treat.

i don't know why i wake up.

i am realizing

as i wake up in a frigid house every morning

that although i had an

early awakening

and have had every opportunity

to learn myself,

i am just lost.

i know truth and goodness

and how to be a decent person,

but don't really know where

i'm going or what i have woken up for.

but i like waking up

and finding something to be excited about.

i don't think answers will come

by way of shining signs from

the heavens,

but might reveal themselves

once the question has been forgotten.

i just wonder if all of those people

who seem figured out feel like i do

or if they wake up and know,

"this is why i have woken up today."

a dinosaur project.

i have started a new project that is sure to make me waste even more time using the internet. it is a blog devoted to learning the favorite dinosaurs of people i admire or find interesting, or just random people. i think it will start by accumulating a good list of the dinosaurs people like, and then maybe a weekly update. just thought that anybody who reads this might like to know about it. the link to the blog is as follows:

www.whatsyourfavoritedinosaur.tumblr.com

i hope you enjoy it.

chair carrying

i picked up two teak chairs

in order to transport them

from the front to the

back yard.

in searching for the most

comfortable mode of transport,

one of the chair's legs

rested in the small of my back.

here i thought:

i like the feeling of an

extremity pressed against me

just so.

what's even more,

i melt at the idea

of someone

putting an arm there

without ever having heard

it's what i would enjoy.

fishing

I had been fishing before. But never deep sea fishing. I guess this trip couldn't exactly be classified as deep sea, considering our boat was maybe only a mile offshore, but I knew that the water was deeper than I cared to think about. So I was deep sea fishing. The men who took us were raised as fishermen in the small town of San Juanico in the southern half of California's Baja Peninsula. They spoke little English, and we spoke little Spanish, so our conversation was limited to basic unconjugated verbs, English words with an added "o" or "a" at the end, or the occasional pronunciation of an English word with a Mexican accent. Our reasons for sharing each other's company were simple: we wanted to catch some fish for dinner, and they wanted to make an easy fifty dollars.

I don't know if it was my lack of experience as a fisherman (I wasn't sure if I could even call myself one) or my excitement to catch my first fish longer than a foot (I certainly had no guarantee that I would catch anything), but I was incredibly attentive during the four hours we sat in the fiberglass boat, its itchy flakes permanently embedding themselves into our clothes. Our guides (interestingly both named Juan) tied fancy lures to the ends of our fishing poles and threw them behind the boat. Juan Luis (the driver) smoked cigarros and slowed down any time one of us felt a tug on the line. He didn't seem very excited to be in the ocean, but was kind enough to drive us around until we had an amount of fish with which we were satisfied. Juan Piteco sat near the front of the boat, and any time we caught a fish, he would take the hook out of its mouth and hit it on the side of the boat so it wouldn't flop around so much.

As I sat on the boat looking backwards at my line, I was thinking almost every minute, Maybe now I'll catch one. Nope. Now. Nope. Maybe now. This train of thought went on for the entirety of our expedition, and I only caught two fish the whole time. But I think my optimism was crucial in the coincidence of those fish choosing to bite the fluorescent plastic lure so expertly tied by Juan Piteco. It was the first time in a long time I was able to partake in an activity without thinking of anything but accomplishing the task at hand. I think I should like to find more activities like that in my life. I want to have a job like that. I wonder if my inexperience led to my attentive spirit. I think people should search for things they really love, and find a way to spend their whole lives doing them. I'm not saying I want to become a fisherman, or a pro surfer, or make it big in a band. I'm just saying I want to spend the rest of my life searching for really interesting things to do.

sedgwick: for kenny

i much prefer

the white noise of

the country

the swarms of bees

replacing vibrating cellphones

the wind in the scrub

like a freeway that will

never be

birds chirping instead

of car horns or police

sirens.

you say life in the country

is too quiet

but that's because

your ears have been

deafened by screeching

el trains and impatient

cab drivers yelling obscenities

but i say be still

and hear the cacophony

of coyotes, bulls, birds,

and breeze.

such beautiful noise.

one year

one year has passed.

i came into your room

and you asked me where

your costco card was.

you had helped me to get new tires

for the car that we drove

to san francisco,

red rock, hurricane harbor,

laguna beach, grandma and grandpa's house,

rincon.

i had no idea where that card went

but i knew you wouldn't let me go to bed

until i found it.

so i did, and left it on your dresser.

you lifted a drowsy arm for a hug

and told me you loved me.

when i couldn't find you

the next day or the one after,

i had no idea if i could

manage getting out of bed

or mowing the lawn

or seeing the ocean.

but the sun has gone down

and come up

quite a few times since then

and i knew you wanted me

to get out of bed.

i have only mowed the lawn

two or three times

and every time i touch the ocean

i feel you.

now i sleep in your bed

with the peace of a child

who seeks comfort late in the night

after a bad dream.

i know you would still let me

jump in after a bad dream

if i asked.

thanks.