Hotel California: The Album in Summary

Hotel California: The Album in Summary

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

Track 1. Hotel California: You know how sometimes you get in your car to drive somewhere, but your mind is on overdrive so you aren't even thinking about where you're going, and then the next thing you know, you're parked outside of your ex boyfriend's childhood home, even though he's away at college in another town and you haven't spoken in months, but you still want to be close to him? 

Track 2. New Kid in Town: He says this is his favorite song on the album. It took me a while to understand why.

Track 3. Life in the Fast Lane: The reason why I don't do drugs.

Track 4. Wasted Time: I once listened to this song 32 times in a row. It hurt just as bad each time.

Track 5. Wasted Time Reprise: Just because you tell other people you've gotten over it doesn't always mean that you have.

Track 6. Victim of Love: Not long ago, I played Vera Claythorne in a stage production of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None. I listened to this song every night before the start of the show. It turns out that Vera and I have a lot in common.

Track 7. Pretty Maids All in a Row: How old were you when you realized? I was 5. I walked in on my parents wrapping Christmas presents; the ones that were supposed to be from Santa.

Track 8. Try and Love Again: What I've been trying to do for years, but every time I think I have been successful, I end up listening to Track 4, 32 times in a row, and each time it hurts just as bad.

Track 9. The Last Resort: My dad says that anyone who calls themselves a Christian should listen to this song at least once. So, I do every Sunday to remind myself to walk with compassion and to appreciate what is already here.

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Reminder #7

Reminder #7

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

Please don't forget just how fond she is of laughter.

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Looking Backː The Things That Remind Me of You

Looking Backː The Things That Remind Me of You

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

1. The Chinese food place close to my house. I will occasionally flip it the bird when I drive past it.

2.Poetry. This one is harder to deal with considering how important it is to me.

3. I once called you a walking thesaurus and you responded with a list of words synonymous to laughter.

4. Pooping. I won't get into that one.

5. Brioche French toast.

6. The wrappers found on disposable straws. We crumpled them up and shot them at each other for hours. It was one of the best evenings of my life.

7. J. R. Tolkien. He is still boring, despite your many efforts to make him sound brilliant.

8. The kiss that rests in the right hand corner of my mouth; the type of kiss that can move mountains and end wars. I still have not given mine away.

9. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost; also, The Road to El Dorado, the Dreamworks film.

10. Pride. We've both got a lot of that.

11. Forcing myself to be angry so that I don't feel broken instead.

12. The naive poems I wrote; the ones that were once my favorite but that I now avoid.

13. The words I regret not saying; the words you will never say; the phone call I wish we could have, but that I am too afraid to initiate; trying to move on.

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Something I've Been Thinking About

"We accept the love we think we deserve." -Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Something I've Been Thinking About

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

When I was 12, my best friend lost her virginity in a bathroom stall, to a boy who didn't know what he was doing and didn't care about her at all.

When she told me the story, there were tears streaming down her face; she apologized and asked me if I thought her stomach looked swollen.

I am not sure if she ever told her mom.

I once walked in on her scraping at the skin on her wrists as though it was the winter and time to shed; time to start anew.

That is the summer she started wearing rubber bands in the pool; one day she asked me if I believed that girls like her deserved love like the movies.

I told her, "Girls like you deserve so much more."

Those were the days when I learned to be wary of boys with beautiful eyes and flattering words.

That is when I decided that me, I'd hold out for Love, and if he never came, at least I would be happy knowing that my stomach wasn't swollen; maybe I wouldn't apologize each time I cried.

It's been years now.

I have mastered the art of crying in public without anyone knowing; it's during one on one encounters when I sometimes get caught.

He says that I am an observer and then wipes away my tears; I realize I've been holding onto them since I was little.

I wonder if my old best friend ever found a love like the movies.

I hope she knows that she deserves so much more.

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Freely

Freely

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

I have learned something recently;

Love has to be given freely.

That is not to say that love is free. In fact, I would venture to say that it is rather the opposite.

Freely, defintion; of one's own accord; 

without restraint or reservation; 

without hindrance;

not strictly following a model, convention, or rule.

If it is love, you will give it freely.

That does not mean it comes at no cost.

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Thought #14

Thought #14

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

I'd rather be the one that got away than the woman who overstayed her welcome.

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Recently

Recently

A Poem by Brigid Cooley

Sometimes, when I'm lucky, I get to see him puff out his chest as he shows me the books he keeps on his shelves or the presents he got for his birthday.

It is reminiscent of how an 8 year old might show of the new toothbrush he was given by the dentist or proudly display how many Valentine's Day cards he got at school earlier.

Those are the moments when I know I am seeing him.

Just him.

Not the motorcycle dreams or the neon lights; not the quiet hesitations and the second guessed thoughts.

Once, he pulled me away from a dinner table so that we could listen to a song that he couldn't remember the name of, but that he knew he loved.

He hummed along, kind of pitchy, and when I went back inside, the waiter commented on how much my dimples show when I am smiling hard.

I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

I wonder if those are the moments when he can see me.

Just me.

Not the overthought precautionary measures; not the way my hands shake when I'm nervous or how I try to take up as little room as possible.

Once, he introduced me to his friends as someone who is special.

I don't think I'll forget that.

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