Atelier Versace.

That which inspires...

gen ed classes...

For the most part, I don't like poems that rhyme, unless they're song lyrics. But for a gen ed creative writing class, our final assignment was to either write a radio play, a short story, or a collection of poems (with a theme). This teacher was all about rainbows and butterflies and team bonding experiences like "trust falls," and my dark side constantly clashed with her sentimentality. Problem for her was, I did my work well and I turned it in on time. I decided to do the poems (10 poems, all with a distinct meter, one being a sonnet) and she tried to steer me towards a topic of Christmas or friendship or candy coated puppies. I decided to write them about a guy who broke me down pretty hard several years ago, but I think it turned out to be the most uplifting thing I wrote all quarter. It may seem like I'm dwelling on the past, but really it's the opposite. I wanted to celebrate how great my life is now, without him.


Synesthesia
As violet night gives way to dawn
Yellow morning glints off the lawn.
As apple-scented rays break through

The clean, fresh sound of morning dew,
I cannot recall what I was dreaming of.
As I press my lips against my love,

His laughter comes off as salty-sweet
Like the caramel songbird’s subtle tweet.
My naïve smile did not know the end was near.

Go green, so trusting for the last dulcet years.
The saccharine innocence that I once felt
Gone away with the deceit he dealt.

As daylight fades into balmy dusk
My icy bed appears uninviting, brusque.
Now I draw my heavy drapes tight,

I shut out all affectionate light.
I quiet the television’s recounting of violence
The world gone black gives a reassuring silence.



haiku
true colors obscured
his clandestine trysts unseen
blindfolded by love



limerick
He ripped me apart, he ate me alive.
He spit me out, no hope to survive.
But at night in my dreams,
Full of lost love’s themes
I search for a way to thrive.



couplets
Don’t waste your time, I won’t care
The two of you are a much better pair

Don’t bother to ask, I won’t play nice
My compassion will do far less than suffice

Don’t submit your request, I won’t be kind
Your comfort is out of sight, out of mind

Don’t hold your breath; I won’t soothe your pain
If you wait, you’ll be waiting in vain



sonnet
The day you ran off, the way you took flight.
It was your method, your careless retreat.
You left me broken, alone, without sight.
For months I felt lacking and incomplete.

Time cleanses the soul, it is the best cure
As the years go by, the pain ebbs away
With you out of my life, my future pure
You have no hold; I’m no longer your prey

You never got me, never understood.
Now I want a partner, a true equal.
Don’t say you’re sorry, no need to make good.
I am ready for part two, the sequel.

I do know now that you were not The One.
I need someone good who gets the job done.

...

god bless the day light
the sugary smell of spring time / remembering when you were mine
in a still suburban town

when every thursday
i'd brave those mountain passes / and you'd skip your early classes
and we'd learn how our bodies worked

god damn the black night
with all it's foul temptations / i've become what i always hated
when i was with you then

we looked like giants
in the back of my grey subcompact / fumbling to make contact
as the others slept inside

30 hours.

So I clocked around 30 hours this weekend. Not too bad, I've definitely worked way more in a 72 hour time span, but this was hardcore valeting, starting every day at 6 am. Superbowl weekend was a whirlwind of parking cars, retrieving cars, carrying bags, storing luggage, opening doors, hailing cabs, making reservations, checking on airport shuttle times, driving the wrong way on a major road because 12 limos were blocking the drive, and smiling at creepy drunk guys who find the idea of a female valet oh so adorable. There were several constant frustrations this weekend, but the "can you bring my car around?" people (who you see in the bar having lunch 90 seconds later) were by far the worst. Our drive can only handle about 4 cars at a time, and 2 have to be driving through. Beyond that, it becomes a total clusterfuck. So DO NOT ask for your car if you're still trying to locate the rest of your group. DO NOT ask for your car if your bags are not even packed, let alone downstairs yet. DO NOT ask for your fucking car if you're about to go get a Bloody Mary and tuna sashimi salad. Exactly how long does one think it takes to bring a car around?

But there were definite perks. For one, those football players have some good genetics. Yeah, they're prettttty. Their wives/girlfriends/call girls are all pretty freaking hot, too. The cars were all gorgeous. I didn't get one subpar car all weekend and got to drive around gorgeous Mercedes, 6 series Beemers, Bentleys, even a Rolls Phantom made an appearance. My coworkers are all fabulous to work with. We laugh all day, we work great together, and I really do love those guys like they're my brothers. The general happy-go-lucky behavior of the guests was great. Even people who are in town to work the Superbowl are still there to have a good time. Myself, I stayed far away from any party zones as big crowds are so not my thing. But hearing the stories the next morning allowed me to live vicariously through others' crazy exploits. Some of my favorites were the "ho train" that came through the hotel every night; the group of players who all make millions a year getting so plastered their driver had to carry them inside and return the next day for his money; and definitely the old man and his wife:

Old man: "Get us a cab!"
Valet: "Where are you headed, sir?"
OM: "Honey, where the fuck are we going?"
Wife: "Shhh, dear, don't swear. We're going to Bennigan's."
OM: "FUCKING BENNIGANS?! What..."
W: "Dear! Keep your voice down!"
OM: "But...fuckin' Bennigan's??........I mean....Bennigan's?"
W: "Yes, we're going to Bennigan's, please calm down."
OM: "I'm fucking fifty years old and you're taking me to BENNIGAN'S?!?!"
(cab pulls up)
OM: "Okay, bitches, get in the back!"
W: "Lower your voice and get in the damn cab! I am tired of you being so rude and disrespectful!"
OM: (mutters incoherently while rolling his eyes and gesturing at wife to the valets; gets in cab) "Okay, cabbie, to BENNIGAN'S!!! AND STEP ON IT!!"

And while I can't wait to have a real career in a field I love, not to mention being able to stop relying on tips, it isn't so bad to take this home: