Best Gift of the Day

I Like You
by Sandol Stoddard Warburg

I like you
And I know why
I like you because
You are a good person
To like
I like you because
When I tell you something special
You know it's special
And you remember it
A long long time
You say
Remember when you told me
Something special
And both of us remember
When I think something is important
You think it's important too
We have good ideas
When I say something funny
You laugh
I think I'm funny and
You think I'm funny too
Hah-hah
I like you because
You know where I'm ticklish
And you don't tickle me there
except
Just a tiny but
sometimes
stop
stop stop
help
help
But if you do then I know where to tickle you too
HELP
You know how to be silly
That's why I like you
Boy are you ever silly
I never met anybody sillier than me
till I met you
I like you because
You know when it's time to stop being silly
Maybe day after tomorrow
Maybe never
Oops too late
it's quarter past silly
We fool around the same way all the time
Sometimes we don't say a word
We snurkle under fences
We spy secret places
If I am a goofus on the roofus
Hollering my head off
You are one too
If I pretend I am drowning
You pretend you are saving me
If I am getting ready to pop a paper bag
Then you are getting ready to jump
HOORAY
That's because
You really like me
You really like me
Don't you
And I really like you back
And you like me back
And I like you back
And that's the way we keep on going
Every day
If you go away
then I go away too
Or if I stay home
You send me a postcard
You don't just say
Well see you around
Some time
Bye
I like you a lot
because of that
If I go away
I send you a postcard too
And I like you because
If we go away together
And if we are in Grand Central Station
And if I get lost
Then you are the one that is yelling for me
Hey where are you
Here I am
And I like you because
When I am feeling sad
You don't always cheer me up right away
Sometimes it is better to be sad
You can't stand the others being so googly and gaggly
every single minute
You want to think about things
It takes time
I like you because if I am mad at you
Then you are mad at me too
It's awful when the other person isn't
Phooey
They are so nice and hoo-hoo you could just about
punch them in the nose
I like you because if I think I am going to
throw up then you are really sorry
You don't just pretend you are busy looking at
the birdies and all that
You say maybe it was something you ate
You say the same thing happened to me one time
And the same thing did
If you find two four leaf clovers
You give me one
If I find four
I give you two
If we only find three
We keep on looking
Sometimes we have good luck
And sometimes we don't
If I break my arm and
If you break your arm too
Then it is fun to have a broken arm
I tell you about mine
You tell me about yours
We are both sorry
We write our names and draw pictures
We show everybody and they wish they had a broken arm too
I like you because
I don't know why but
Everything that happens
Is nicer with you
I can't remember when I didn't like you
It must have been lonesome then
I like you because because because
I forget why I like you
But I do
So many reasons
On the Fourth of July I like you because
It's the Fourth of July
On the Fifth of July
I like you too
If you and I had some drums
And some horns and some horses
If we had some hats and some
Flags and some fire-engines
We could be a HOLIDAY
We could be a CELEBRATION
We could be a WHOLE PARADE
See what I mean?
Even if it was the nine-hundred-and-ninety-ninth of July
Even if it was August
Even if it was way down at the bottom of November
Even if it was no place particular in January
I would go on choosing you
And you would go on choosing me
Over and over again
That's how it would happen every time
I don't know why
I guess I don't know why I like you really
Why do I like you
I guess I just like you
I guess I just like you
Because I like you



Gifted by Leslie Jauch. I like her.

It's your day

Happy Birthday, Lilly!

Here is a poem for you:

* * *
today you are a woman
tomorrow you are a lady
forever you are my big sister

i will always snuggle you
and rub your soft arm like a creep
i will annoy you by eating your food and drinking your diet coke
you will get angry and get road rage and punch me
especially when i change songs without your permission

but i will always think that things that are yours are also mine
aren't they?
i think that way because you're just so kind and generous
like natalie merchant says

when you call me a little photo of your face shows up
i can't make that happen for anyone else!
so everyday when you call, i see you
and i like that
because you're pretty and stylish

move to my coast so we can be close
i will buy you a puppy
* * *

Not sure where I'd be without you, Lils. Yous my rock.

See you in a month.

xo Fuzzy

Stolen

I stayed at work late on Wednesday. I spent my overtime (not paid) browsing TMZ/USA Today for juicy news that would prepare me for Quiz Night at Crocodile Lounge so I could impress my old coworkers with my trivia skills. Then I made a stop at Forever 21 and stood in a line of 20+ NYU students so I could try on a pair of skinny bright blue jeans.

The moment I stepped into the fitting room and pulled back the curtain, my phone started vibrating. It was Kayla.

“HAVE YOU BEEN HOME YET?”

“No, why?"

“I THINK WE GOT ROBBED.”

The moment she said robbed, she hung up. I dropped everything I was holding and stared at myself in the mirror.

I have experienced a feeling similar to this very few times. It’s like everything tingles and then you’re numb. It feels like you have no control of your body and can’t form words or think or feel or live.

I called Kayla back.

“We did get robbed. This is not an April Fools joke, Mary Clare. I think you need to come home. Right now.”

I immediately called my Mother and the melt down began. I pushed though crowds of people – shaking and talking a million miles a minute. I finally collapsed on the steps in Union Square – in between protesters and skateboarders – and started sobbing.

I don’t remember getting home, but I’m pretty sure the whole train was staring at my clenched fists and swollen eyes.

Breakdown two happened when I realized they broke in through my locked bedroom window, knocking down all of my books and crushing a picture of Evelyn as a baby that I had in a white frame. They ransacked through our bedrooms - pulling apart our desks and drawers and moving furniture – leaving with our computers, cameras, jewelry, iPods, speakers and video camera.

Kayla and I go back and forth between anger/sad breakdowns to just being thankful we're safe.

I just want this mess to be over. I hate the quietness of the apartment and having to surf the Internet on my BlackBerry. I hate that all my photos and writing and music is gone. I hate that I was going to convert all the high8 video tapes from Vegas/the cabin/Chicago/Green Bay into DVDs for all my friends, and now I can't. I hate having to sleep with Kayla because I'm scared and I hate watching her hide the last of her precious possessions in the closet when we leave the apartment. I hate how we're all paranoid.

And with all the hates, there's a nice balance of love. We have renters insurance and I have the most wonderful and supportive family and friends in the world.

Not sure what I'd do without all the loves in my life - they keep me floating.