First Dates

First dates- in other words, an interview.  We dress to impress and stuff our breathing orifices with sticks of minty gums and spearamint hard candies.  We brush our cheeks with pink tones and stroke our lips a fancy tint.  We lush our lashes so that you see the depths of color in our eyes.  Our hair is straitened, curled, crimped and intertwined just right. We hang our clothes to prevent any kind of wrinkle.  Our shoes are lined up according to which ones will match better and which ones will show off our fabulous gabs. 
      We run late as usual.  Nora Jones plays in the background as we scrummage through our aphrodiciacs.  We sprits our skin with sweet poison, a scent that will flirt with your senses.  Scents that will cause your brain to want to ask questions that you probably shouldn't be asking.  We calm our nerves with a glass of wine and we giggle as the butterflies flutter in our stomachs. We change five times and do our best to respond to incoming texts from our overly excited, nosey girlfriends.  Mirrors laugh as we rehearse how we are going to greet you. 
     " So good to see you"
    " How are you tonight, good to see you"
     " I've missed you, good to see you"
      " Hey there!!  I'm obsessed with your teeth".......     okay no.
     We do some last minute cleaning up and apply our last dab of chicka cherry lipgloss.  We hang up our damp towels that once embraced our wet hair as we prepared our beautiful faces.  Deodorant becomes an important component to staying fresh under dior circumstances-  first dates!!  We lather lotions and give prettyness one last look.  Deep breaths and sucked in guts make our way downstairs to prepare our clutches. 
    Identification- check
    Money- shouldn't need it ( hehe) but.. check
   Lip gloss- double check
   Mase- check  (haha)
   Gum- check
    Roadside assistance in case he gets a flat - check (haha)
      We carefully get in our vehicles and turn on the AC to prevent any kind of perspirations.  We find the best music to rid our nervousness.  We continuously look at ourselves in the rear view mirror to check for signs of  unevenness or loose mascara resting under our eyes. 
     We arrive at our destination and we hope that you don't see us pull up.  This way we can do any last minute adjustments- wedgies, hair fly aways, leggins twisted, bra's inside out. Haha. We grasp our clutches and hope that you are as nervous as we are.  We see your vehicle parked in the front.  More deep breaths occur as we open the door. 
   Then..
     There you are.  Smiling.  Sweating alittle.  Hands in your pockets.  Wearing your cargo shorts and a polo shirt- untucked and wrinkled a bit.  Crocs slipped over your big feet.  Your tattoo peeking under your sleeves.  Your hair is spiked and ...
              ...  you smell so good.

First date desserts- cupcakes :)

Hey! I Got Laid

        No, not me.  A very close friend of mine. "Hey guess what? I got laid".  That was the text he sent me late last night.  I have known him for eight years and he was my only virgin friend left on this planet.  He was always picked on for his choices to wait for someone he loved.  Not by me.  I loved that about him.  He is a goofy, witty and super good looking.  If you google Stefano from this seasons  American Idol, you will know what I'm talking about.  They are identical.
           Okay so I'm just gonna say it. I made the decision when I was younger to wait on doing the " great bambino" with someone until I was married.  I am 28 and I'm still holding strong.  There, now all of OS knows.  It's cool.  I think? It's really not that bad since I don't "crave" it like some people do after they do it a couple times.  Well, so I've been told.  I have been asked all kinds of questions and I have collected many pennies for when people tell me " yeah right, noone is a virgin anymore".   So, I'm rich by the way. haha. 
      My friend and I would always talk about it and kind of make fun of ourselves.. with all respect of course.  We wondered how old we would both be when we "hit the jackpot" and.. I'm not talkin about money. I JUST talked to him last week- then a virgin.. then BAM now he's been ... um... laid?? Do we still refer to sex as getting "laid"  Why?  Does anyone take it serious anymore?  Or is it just me and all the other 20 something year old virgins sneaking up on 30? Goodness.
     I spoke with him this morning and I totally expressed my feelings about him just going and doing whomever.  Yeah, to each their own.  Some people wait and others don't and that's okay.  Really.  However, he had such great intentions on waiting for the woman he truely loved.  I knew him better than that.  I asked him why he took the plunge and he replied " well, I really wanted to wait for someone I loved, but it never happened so I said screw it and just went out and did it".  
            
 WHAT??? Just like that?

  Sigh.  Crazy guy. 

I don't know if I'm more disappointed in the fact that he was so whateve about it or that he totally, sneakly beat me to the punch. Haha. 

Now what will we talk about?

Casey Grunts

    This will be short and sweet.  I am totally loving Casey on American Idol.  His voice is so brash and sexy.  He grunts and skats and kisses the judges.  He is a Seth Rogen, Lance Hartley piece of goodness on rock and roll crack. He kills it.  Kills... it.

Cupcakes with Casey tonight.

Skippy Jane Jones

   I finally broke down and adopted a gerbil for my well deserving students.  They begged and pleaded for a class pet.  As much as I love animals, I wasn't sure how I was going to take on the responsibility of my seventeen tots and a class pet that poops and flings bedding all over our mixed matched carpet.  We took a class vote and chose the name Skippy Jane Jones- after the notorious Skippy Jon Jones who takes my students imagination to a different level. 
      Our gerbil is white with red eyes.  She has been mistaken for a rat, a hamster , a mouse and a chinchilla.  Wait.. a chinchilla? Seriously?  I finally had to create a sign that says " Our new GERBIL Skippy Jane Jones".  I adopted her from a colleauge who mistakened her two gerbils as males.  When we returned from spring break, she realized one was a boy and one was a girl who got funky fresh gerbil style while everyone was on vacation. My students were so excited to hear the news as I was announcing it in circle time. 
     Explaining the roles of animal responsibility to a bunch of five and six year olds was interesting.  They had so many questions and so many different ideas on how to take care of a classroom pet.
  " We can train it to sit and roll over"
  "  We can buy a leash and walk it every day"
  " We can teach it letters and numbers and how to write"
    Then of course I have that one student who asks " do we have to wipe her butt?"
   I loved hearing all of their creative ideas for taking care of Skippy Jane Jones. I have never seen anyone so excited to have the responsibility to change her dirty cage.  If we were going to have a class pet, changing her cage was NOT going to be my responsibility. 
   Later that evening I found myself in the small pets section at Petsmart.  I stared at five different cages all of which were super cool.  Glow and the dark spinning wheels and different colored tubes sat boxed up on shelves awaiting my weakness to buythe " complete set".  I already spoil a dog, don't tell me I'm about to go all out on .... a gerbil.   I filled my cart with a state of the art cage for this little creature we were about to bring in to our beautifully chaotic classroom.  Skippy Jane Jones has no idea what she is getting herself in to.  It's one thing to be born in a third grade classroom where students aren't as hyper and hands on. 
 Poor Skippy Jane.
 One hundred and fifty dollars later, I arrived at home to assemble this quite expensive, glow in the dark, two leveled, spinning wheel frenzied gerbil cage.  I made sure to get the softest bedding so that our new friend would be comfortable.  My dog anxiously paced back in forth fearing that I would have the nerve to bring another animal in her royal castle.  Loela sniffed the bag aggressivly in hopes to find a little surprise for herself. 
             ....Sorry Loela, I didn't bring a bone home this time.
 I arrived at school the next morning with my cage and non healthy gerbil food in tote.  I can hear my students voices on the playground as they hang upside down on the monkey bars screaming " is that for OUR gerbil?"  I keep walking because if I turned around to answer, gerbil food , bedding and a three hour assembled cage would go crashing down.  They tried to beat me to the door but thank goodness for my assistant who stopped them in their hippity hoppity tracks.  I managed to get the cage placed on a sturdy surface next to my desk.  I put her bedding down and filled her tiny bowl with fresh food.  I snuck in a corn husk and some a granola bar thingy that is supposed to be good for their teeth.  It looked good.  I was tempted to take a bite. 
   I was really nervous about having this red-eyed long tail creature in my classroom, in close proximity to me.  I placed her in her cage and I watched her make herself at home.  She went right for her snack.  I giggled and said "going for the snack first huh? Looks like we have alot in common" Haha.  I studied her for a moment and wondered what her life will be like now that she is away from her mother and siblings.  It took me back to when my mom and dad left for Alabama.  I know what your thinking, how can a tiny gerbil pull a few heart strings?  I don't know.  I guess life without your parents whether they are hundres miles away or deceased, it could be scary.. even for a gerbil.  Right?
   My plans were to only let my students hold her.  I had no intensions of holding her, petting her or even sticking my fingers in her cage.  My assistant instantly became the " gerbil whisperer" as she spent most of her time holding and playing with Skippy Jane.  She continues to put the stapler down everytime she passes her cage to take a moment and talk to Skippy.  I would watch with pure amazement of how much this gerbil loves attention.  Usually, they will mind their own business or hide.  Skippy Jane, however, loves people.  Her personality is like a humans.  She knows how to get our attention and she even does little tricks like flips and stuff. 
    I'm finding myself becoming more in love with this gerbil haha.  When I come in my classroom in the mornings, she will greet me by climbing her cage to the very top and sticking her nose out.  If I am sitting at my desk, she will turn around and fall asleep, facing me in her little tube.  If I move, she moves.  If I go to the other side of the room, she will cling to her cage as if she is begging me to stay.  Silly right?  Way silly.  I laugh as I catch myself asking how her night was and talking to her as if she will one day respond-kind of like I do with my dog Loela haha.  When I hold Skippy Jane, she falls asleep in my hands.  She likes to crawl up your arm and snuggle in the crevice between the shoulder and the neck.  My assistant thinks she was a human once .  Now thats silly!!!! 
   My kids love Skippy Jane Jones and have forgotten about center time.  Instead they would rather get a book and sit quietly next to her cage and read to her.  She'll listen.  I swear it!!!  Welcome to our class Skippy Jane Jones.

Daydreaming Part II

I will live my life as a lobsterman's wife on an island in the blue bay.
He will take care of me, he will smell like the sea, and close to my heart he'll always stay. I will bear three girls all with strawberry curls, little Ella and Windland and Shay. While I'm combing their hair, I will catch his warm stare ....
                                    On our island in the blue bay.

I want to go far away. To a new life on a new shore line. Where the water is blue and the people are new. Maybe to another island, in another life.
There's a boy next to me and he never will be anything but a boy at the bar, and I think he's the tops, he's where everything stops.....
     
                                 How I love to love him from afar.

When he walks right pass me then I finally see on this bar stool I can't stay.  So I'm taking my frown to a far distant town. On an island in the blue bay.

Cupcakes- with sea salt :)

Roaring the 1920's

     Rain splattered on my red polka dotted umbrella as I tip toed my way around muddy puddles and water filled pot holes. The raindrops corrining down the ends of my umbrella begged me to catch them before falling onto the gravel beneath me.
   
    Thunder sent its revenge within the heavens, sending lightening through the silver clouds that starved for the suns illuminations. I see you sitting. Your legs crossed.  You were wearing your notorius baggy wide-legged trousers , one of your simpler suits with just slim, unpadded jackets over your creased trousers.  Those two-toned shoes, which you have shined every morning.  Your bowler laid upside down on table set for two, a glass of hootch on the rocks.  The newspaper was folded patiently on the edge of the table, awaiting your beautiful eyes to skim it's pages. You were swell I tell ya. The cat's pajamas.
 
    I couldn't get to you fast enough.  I clutched my cloche hat as the wind whirled around me teasing the ends of my flapper dress.    The streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of business and pleasure.  We were young  women rebelling against the old matriarchs and wore our hair short and hiked up our hem lines.  We painted our faces in the spirit of our new found freedom sparked by economic wealth and new political rights.  Finding you was the bees knees.
   

  You adjusted your cheaters as I approached you.  You were fried to the hat sittin there all swanky.   The first thing that came out of your kisser was "Cash or check baby?"  I looked at your ossified face and replied " Sorry Mac, banks closed.  Check me later when your not actin a drunken  fool".  You were a smooth fellow.  Making me fall in love with you.  You hard boiled son of a gun.
 
     I set my gold mesh rhinestone clutch on the table. My red lipstick stained the rim of your glass as I s
  wigged down the rest of your drink.  You pulled my chair out for me and asked me to share your company.  You ordered another hair of the dog and  You glared at my gams, crossed beside the table.  I drank my cup of joe as you clutched my hands while Wall Street crashed behind us. You didn't have to say anything to me.  Anything. 


This was just a few little snippets of information my great grandmother told me when she was dating the love of her life.  I was little, I don't remember much.  All I remember is that her eyes lit up as she told me of a day at the cafe with him.   Love.

Pfft.. Bring it 2012

    As I sit here watching Apocalypse 2012 on CNBC, I find myself floored over how many people actually fear 2012.  People are seeing psychiatrists, considering suicide, purchasing survival products from 2012supplies.com and building survial commuinties in the hills of Arizona.  I mean, it's okay to be prepared for a catastrophy but goodness. 
  
    It is my opinion that nothing will happen when 2012 comes.  People seem to be panicking just like they did when Y2Kwas approaching.  I'm simply saying, just because the Mayan calender will be completed, doesn' t mean the world is coming to a end.  Who are they to tell us that the world is going to end?  I mean, haven't we spend billions upon billions on technology?  If everything is expected to shut down and planes are to fall from the heavens, shouldn't we have been prepared?   
  
    I watched the movie 2012 and I must say I was disappointed.  The films conclusion was outrageous.  Who were these "beings" coming to collect people from earth? Was John Cusack being "left behind"?  Is there a Christian twist here?  I'm quite confused.
 
  Maybe I am overlooking the whole idea of 2012 and maybe I'm not taking it that seriously.  I am a Christian and I can't wrap my mind around the fact that God would allow such destruction upon us if Jesus is not to return yet.   Now, don't get me wrong, every person is encouraged to make their own leap and believe what they want and what they know.  I am in NO way judging.  However, "if" the world was going to end in 2012, don't you think people would do their best to enjoy life instead of living in fear?  We aren't supposed to live in fear.
 
  Did I just hear that a man bought an underground bunker for 1.5 million dollars?  For real?  Give me a break. Sounds like bad threats from bad science.

  I know that one day this world will end...  When Jesus returns.  Until then,  I have time to make 2012 yummy cupcakes  :)

Pretty Mercy

         Labor began at eleven thirty last night.  She didn't get much sleep due to contractions.  They were eight minutes apart. 
 
    I  have known her for seven years and it didn't take long for us to become friends.  She was allergic to mangos. We both had alot in common.  We both had just cut off our long lucious locks.  We both were single.  We both loved God and we both wondered when our prince charmings would arrive on their noble steeds.  Our friends and siblings were married, getting married or were on the brink of being engaged.   We met at church and we were sometimes overtaken by the church giggles.  Someone was always doing something funny in that place.
   
   I remember being in the kitchen with her one night, dipping my french fries in my frosty.  I told her I was going to invent a dessert that had a frosty and french fry concoction  that would send our tastebuds into a supersonic whirlwind of pleasure.  She laughed. 

   

   The day came when her prince charming  came knocking at her door, sweeping her off her feet.  She fell in love and.. said yes!!  They married in May and I was saddened at the fact that I couldn't be there to see her walk down the isle.  She became a gypsy wife, traveling around the United States with the love of her life.  His work took him everywhere, and she followed.  Actually, I wouldn't say followed, more like.. stood by his side -and loved him everyday.  Everyday.

 
     I signed on to check my mail one evening after work and read that my sweet friend was.. expecting.  I was so happy for her.  I wrote her many joys and thrills.  She couldn't be happier.  We talked about this moment so many years ago. In the kitchen, eating frosty's and french fries.  She grew so beautifully.  Her belly grew round like a watermelon.  A sweet little watermelon with a lovely little seed inside.  She carried her baby gently and lovingly.  Her baby shower included that yummy baby punch and many gifts wrapped in pale pinks and creams.  She made out like a bandit with all those presents- or should we say, the bun in the oven hit the jackpot.  So many people love her and came to celebrate this blessing from our wonderful, amazing God.
 
   So, here we are.  A beautiful baby girl has been born.  Rocked in the arms of God and gently placed in her mothers arms. 

   Mercy is her name.  A name meaning compassion.  She will be loved to 100th power.  May she be as humble as her mother.  Happy Birthday pretty Mercy. 

Pink cupcakes for everyone :)

Shh TAKS Testing in Progress

   I had the opportunity to administer the TAKS test to a group of eighth graders today.  If you are not familiar with TAKS, it stands for Texas Assentials of Knowledge and Skills and it's a standardized test used in Texas primary and secondary schools to assess students' attainment of reading, writing, math, science, and social studies skills required under Texas education standards. 

   Translation:  A mind boggling, sleep inducing, sweat producing, stress levels through the roof exam. This does not apply to only students but to our teachers as well. 

  I checked in with our counselor (who, may I add, is absolutely wonderful), signed my life away and walked away with  a box full of secured testing materials, seven pencils, seven highlighters and a florescent orange sign that said " Testing in Progress".  It felt as if I was holding a porclean artifact with steep valuables inside.  We were encouraged not to leave it unattended and hold tight if transitions should occur.  I was so excited to administer such an imparative assessement.  Our students have endured many tutoring sessions both in the morning and afterschool.  This includes our Science and Math bootcamp on Fridays.  So, I was completely looking forward to seeing excited faces. Excited meaning they know how much sweat blood and tears towards passing this exam was shed and a feeling of relief that it is over.  Well, till next year. 

 I walked into the room where the testing was to occur, totally pumped and ready to distribute the test booklets. Instead of seeing happy faces, I see slumped over bodies, heads on the table and sweaters zipped all the way to their necks. Once the door closes, there is no talking and no communicating unless you are reading the directions.  I wanted to hug each of them and wish them good luck.  By the looks of things, these kids were anxious, bushed and barely motivated.  Maybe it's because it was early.  Maybe they didn't eat a good breakfast.  Maybe their....  scared.  I gave them a thumbs up and a big smile as I distributed the booklets and answer sheets.  Maybe that would help.  Maybe not. 

  Here's how TAKS works: Teachers are to teach according to a strict curriculum in order to prepare our students for TAKS.  April arrives and it's the most stressful, sleepless month for those teachers and students.  If a student does not pass TAKS, it is possible that he/she will be retained and scores may drop.  This will not look good for teachers who teache TAKS grades.  So, I can understand how they were feeling this morning. Or can I?  I mean, who wants to work so hard, fail the test and have to repeat the grade? What's worse? repeating the same grade? Or facing embarrassment from peers for having to do so?  The more I thought about it, the more I really felt for these students.  Whats making our students more sleepy on test days? Lack of a good bedtime? Or stress? 

 I spent seven hours observing the emotions of the students.  Some wanted to just sleep, as if it would make the test disappear.  Some wanted numerous breaks.  I let them have breaks.  I didn't want them stressing each hour of this crazy day.  Lunch seemed to be the only time they became themselves again.  They all bunched up at the lunch tables with their chicken patties and fruit punch juices and didn't mention a WORD about the test.  Why would they? That twenty five minutes was their escape.  Each student who completed their test closed their booklets as if they never wanted it in their sight again.  Tossing their pencils across the other side of the table as if it had betrayed them.  Erasers were gone and the lead was dull.  Highlighter marker lids on the floor.  Lots of stretching and yawning.  Lots.  I couldn't tell what was worse, my feet in agony from the constant active monitoring or my students having to wait two months for their scores.

  I have faith in my fellow, beautiful colleagues who use their passion wisely to teach these students.  TAKS will not, should not, could not scare us.  There should never be fear in learning.  Oh TAKS, you come and go each year with a vengance, yet, we will defeat you.

No eating while testing...   but what about cupcakes??

Eat My Cupcake

     Yeah, thats correct.  Eat My Cupcake.   I will forever be thankful for the gift to teach, to love and to inspire.  I do love being a teacher and I will forever and always love each of my children.  I do want to be the teacher in their lives who they can look back on and remember everything about me.  I believe I will always teach in some way, inspire in someway and one day, hopefully change a life.  Or have I already?   But you guys know me. You've been trying to tell me for years.....

   So here's what I dream of doing one day....  

     My masters program begins in August.  I will withdraw from the program and enroll in culinary school specializing in pastry and cake decorations. Then I will work as an intern at a bakery and master the art of sweets and delishiousness for one year.  Maybe less because I will be so good at what I do because of this passion that it won't take me a year to master the goodness of baking.

 Here's what tops the cake..
  
 Open up my own cupcake business and call it, yup you guessed it.......

 Eat My Cupcake.     

 I have found myself completely frenzied with thoughts of this passion I have with cupcakes.  Cupcakes are sweet.  Love is sweet.  When you put the two together, you get a damn good concoction of yumminess.  When you add a cup of passion and a half of cup of ardor, you get success.  Sift alittle happiness in there and you have yourself a supersonic Megan made cupcake.  I will name each cupcake after someone I love, with a little cute twist on it.  For example, my grandmothers name was Sandy, so I could do a yellow lemon cupcake with a vanilla-lemon sugar frosting and call it  Sandy's Sunshine.  Or perhaps my first love- who's nickname is Casper. So I can make a white cupcake with a homemade pina colada sugar frosting and call it Caspers Delights lol.  I have time to think of  distinctive names for my cupcakes. 

   I will have Open Poetry nights and Build Your Own Cupcake nights.  I will enourage your first date to be inside Eat My Cupcake getting to know each other over sweet luxury.  I will do events and weddings and baby showers  OH MY!!!  I will have those little rubber wrist bands that say "Eat Sweetly"  Or maybe "Eat for Life".  Well, then people might think I'm encouraging obesity.  Right?

  I will make pretty pink cupcakes for when Race for the Cure comes to town.  Teachers will get discounts on cupcakes, cakes and all yumminess.  Because without teachers, our futures aren't so sweet.  Teaching will not end in the classroom.  I will offer cooking classes for people who love to play with their food.  I will teach my bakers that the best part of a cupcake is the sprinkles- because color illuminates love and people love cupcakes.

   I will be responsible for frosting on the tip of your noses and spoiling your dinner.  I will study your hungry faces as you stare into the cupcake window debating if you want chocolate .... or triple dutch chocolate.  I will giggle when you ask for fat free frosting, even though I will offer it.   This makes me happy.

 One thing I look forward to......
 Is coming home, to you, with flour on my face and smelling like cake batter

Four Minutes to Find Mom

     I only enjoy driving into the  arrival terminal when my mother comes to down.  I find myself stuck in the middle lane as a traffic jam encases me.  I roll my window down to hear the hustle and bustle of laughter, police whistles and car horns.  Suitcases of all shapes and colors sit tolerently on the curb as their owners await their rides.  What's in those suitcases? Clothes? Souvenirss? Perhaps nothing except one ticket to a new beginning.  A woman flicks her cigarette as she impatiently awaits a cab.  Four luggage bags by her side.  Taking a much needed vacation maybe? That's alot of luggage.  I hope heartache isn't along for the ride.
       Strangers put forth their necks and glare into the sunlight in hopes that the next car to turn the corner will be someone they love.  Children release the hands of their mothers and  hurdle themselves into their dads arms- with one bag, dressed in camoflauge... coming home.  I can hear the skycabs shouting "Four minutes, you have four minutes to drive through the terminal. If you do not see your loved one, please circle around".  Travelers wave frantically making sure they aren't missed.  Some are.  They drop their waving arms in disappointment and wait for them to come back around.  Do any of them not come back around?
     
      I don't have much time left before I have to circle around this place again.  A skycab approaches my truck and asks me how many people will I picking up.  I said "just one".  He said " do you see them?"
 
      I said...

    No, but I look like her. I have her laugh and I have her smile-except her smile is like that one star that illuminates the heavens. The one that everyone wishes upon.  My hair curls slightly like hers and we both have freckles.  Sometimes I sound like her, walk like her and write like her.   I write my O's and my  N's like her.  She is left handed but is always right- so she jokes.  She stains her lips a dark red and wears a gold ring on her pinky finger.  He said " I'm sorry but I can't help you".

    I said, she is something beautiful.... and I see her, with her little red suitcase.  Waving with her hands that look like her mothers and a smile that looks like mine.  He said, " ah, now I see"

She makes cupcakes in ice cream cones.  :)

One Train With You

   It was a Tuesday morning when I was waiting at the station.  I was adjusting my pearls when i saw you getting off the train.  You didn't have a ticket  so you had to bum through the barriers again. I laughed.  You brushed the hair from my face. The ticket inspector saw you rushing through to tell me" you don't know how much I missed you but we'd better run cause I haven't got the funds to pay this fine.  I said.. fine.
So we ran out of the station and jumped onto a bus with two of yesterdays travel cards and two bottles of bud and you said "you look well nice".

See I was wearing your favorite skirt, you know, the one that brushes the tips of the green grass covered in morning dew.  On a Saturday.  And you thought that I  looked nice. Then I whispered in your ear that I didn't really care about anything else cause I only wanted you to think that I looked nice.
And you did. But you were looking at me, all funny in the eye.  I said "come on, tell me what you're thinking and you said "I'll try".  I watched your lips as you said "all the stars up in the sky and the leaves in the trees, all the broken bits that make you jump up and grassy bits in between.  All the matter in the world is how much I like you."

I laughed and  said "what?"  You said "let me try and explain again"

You covered your mouth and coughed and then said  "birds can fly so high and they can shit on your head and they can almost fly into your eye and make you feel so scared...but when you look at them and you see that they're beautiful.  That's how I feel about you.  I said "what are you talking about?"  You said "you".  I said "thanks, I like you too".  You said "cool".  My train arrived.... and ...  you wrote a poem on my hand.  I read it.. over and over again. 

I daydream too much :)