A life list (to be continued)

Scuba dive | Have a croissant at a French cafe | Go on a multi-day biking trip | Be conversational in Spanish | Set foot in fifty states and seven continents --hey, dream big. | Have a dog | Swim with bioluminescent plankton in Puerto Rico | Live in another country | Eat only home-made meals for a week | Get a good camera and use it | Finance retirement | Write something others might want to read | Do something marvelous with the land in Ecuador | Grow too many tomatoes to eat myself | Do yoga every day for a year | Learn to tune up my bike | See Cuba | Try surfing | Sing in public | Learn to play simple songs on the guitar

How about you?

"Get...OUT...."

So I've figured it out. My apartment must've been built on an ancient burial ground. It explains the squirrels skittering and chattering in the crawlspace, a half-inch of sheetrock from my pillow. The scalding water from the cold tap. The blood-sucking vermin. And seedlings that won't grow, no matter the care lavished on them.

When the faucets flow with blood and the hissing gets too loud to ignore, I'm moving to Brooklyn.

it's safe to open your eyes

--that's a thought that came to me while listening to a Latin Jazz band at the jazz festival at the Secret Theatre in LIC today. The lovely singer, Natalia, introduced a song as being about a child growing up among too much conflict, and it resonated with me. This phrase popped into my head and I felt like I should write a song or something around it.