Mariesa's Spokane: Sparks of brilliance in a gritty city


2014: I'm Bringing Sexy Back

Sexy is a state of mind.

To me, it’s not the number of pounds displayed on the readout of the scale, my percentage of body fat, the size printed on the tag of my pants, how low the neckline on my sweater or how high the hem of my skirt. It’s not so much how my clothes look as much as how I feel I fit inside my own skin.

And lately, it’s not been good.

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Camels, Katie Couric, and the Meaning of Christmas

The week before Christmas in 2005, my mother, my sister and I took my niece to New York. It was her 10th birthday, and my first trip to the city.

Because we would be coming in from different places, I had planned to meet them at our hotel. I flew in on December 19, the day before the Transport Workers Union went on strike, bringing subway and bus service to a screeching halt. Even though the TWU walkout was not yet official, a limited strike of two bus lines had already begun, essentially derailing my itinerary. I made my way from La Guardia to Grand Central Station, but once there, ended up stuck with no real backup plan.

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Death of a Classmate

The first time a classmate of mine died I was in third grade.

A cowlick in Jackie’s brown bowl-cut hair bounced in the air as he chased me on the playground. It was recess. It was loud. Kids sang and shrieked and giggled in anticipation of early dismissal that Wednesday and the long Thanksgiving weekend ahead. Jackie chased me and chased me and finally caught me. He stole a quick kiss that left my cheek feeling like it was sparkling. Cooties and all, in that split second I only saw and heard the cute boy with the crooked teeth standing in front of me. And then the bell rang and broke the spell.

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Where's Bartlet?

I let the dogs run around the backyard while I folded back the cover and swirled the stick. The steam rushed up. The purple, green, blue, yellow swatches matched those on the bottle perfectly. The chemicals were balanced. I walked back into the house to grab my towel. Draper followed me in, and over the whir of the hot tub bubbling I thought I heard Bartlet bounding up the steps, no doubt to perch and impatiently wait for three pieces of Life Cereal, his favorite treat for peeing outside.  

As I walked back outside, I slid the glass door behind me, as always leaving it open just a crack. I softly jumped from the 18 degree air into the 114 degree water, slinking in up to my hairline to warm up quickly. It was only 5:00, but it's December in Washington and the clouds were already a dark flannel gray and hundreds of black pines were silhouetted against the sky. The streetlights and traffic and office buildings downtown twinkled. From underneath the water, blue light rippled on the ceiling.

And then I heard a cry.

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Daily Thanks, Day 15: A Week's Worth of Blessings

I’m several days late on writing out my thankfulness for this week. I was cognizant each day on where I was focusing my gratitude, I just never got around to writing it down. So, I guess I should start by being thankful I’m so busy. That means I have work and already that makes me far more blessed than so many people in the world right now. In the country. In our neighborhood.

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