deroBored

For the past sixteen days I have been unemployed for the first time in my life since I started working at a "real" job. On one hand, I do not want to return to work yet on the other hand, well, IT'S MAKING ME EVEN CRAZIER THAN I WAS BEFORE! ...uhm, sorry...

It wouldn't be so bad if I weren't trapped indoors due to the combination of this incredible heat wave and the flu. That's right, I've caught the winter flu in the middle of summer. An unknown force is surely trying my craziness for the purpose of motivating me to get a new job just to escape this misery. Otherwise, I would be stark-raving delirious with the happiness of a school-kid released into the summer freedom of swimming and fun.

Strangely, it doesn't seem like it's been over two weeks. Information Technology professionals are in high demand which means I have been almost constantly on the phone and emailing regarding thirty different positions in my 20-mile radius alone.

Yes, I do realize how fortunate I am to be in a field where you really don't have to be any good at what you do and I am thankful. If you are a mediocre kiddie-scripter you will be in demand and I am very VERY mediocre.

I often get the interview question "can you describe the difference between polymorphism and inheritance in .NET?" I think I get asked this because so few people really know so I give them the same answer: "the difference between polymorphism and inheritance == (the profit of Microsoft creating new verbiage every couple of years so that they can sell semi-new technology that require costly training and certification * the number of developers and managers desperate enough to pay for a few more letters after their names).

Anyway, Microsoft career problems are for another blog. The fact is that I need fresh air that has oxygen in it and a nose clear enough to breathe it. I'm not supposed to be spending money being that I'm unemployed so shopping and the cinema are ruled out. I tried going to the library further study the advanced features of the .NET 2.0 Framework but it was FREEZING in there and a poltergeist again took control of my nasal passages.

I've watched numerous DVDs and caught up on video games, started 2 new aquariums, and read a couple of novels amidst toting around town meeting with the headhunters. I even feel like I'm getting enough sleep.

In fact, even this post is boring me (look how long it is!) so I'm done for today.

Freedom

At first I told myself that I would just try it out ... what harm could it do? Way too practical, surely I would never become one of those addicts zooming around on speed. However, as usage has become more frequent and as my skill has increased, so has the needle on my speedometer .

I crave turns so low that my pegs scrape the pavement splaying sparks. Back roads through the countryside beg me to pull the throttle wide open. Lying on the tank of my rocket I can't help but to feel fused with this machine. Even the air cannot rip through my kinesthetic fusion and for a short time I am free - flying - zooming - with no intent on destination. There is no better way to perish than to be doing something you love.

I'm Sinking and It's Going to Pop

I hearby declare August to be the worst month known to me. This August alone, I have had my tenth wedding anniversary while separated, lost my job, received a second-degree burn on my leg, caught a flu-like virus, and now the air mattress that I have been sleeping on for the last appears to have a leak.

Yesterday I awoke to a water bed-like experience and thought it was kind of cool. I went ahead and pumped up the mattress before I went to bed but around 5am I again began to experience the water bed-effect so I have retreated to the futon in the living room area where the light is evil first thing in the morning.

So what do I do now? I'm unemployed and need a bed. Get another air mattress? Sleep on the crusty futon? God forbid, buy a real bed?

Buying a real bed brings about numerous conflicts and decisions -- which is why I didn't buy a bed to begin with six months ago:

1. If my husband and I were to get back together then we were planning on buying a king-size bed later on ... but that is expensive and if we don't get back together then I don't need a king-size bed unless my cats continue to enumerate.

2. If I buy a bed, should I buy matching furniture? Like, say, a whole set? If so, should I buy the good stuff that I will want long-term or should I just buy something to "get me through?" ....I guess it could always be in a spare room later.

3. A bed is hard to move. One more large item in means one more large item out and I AM getting out at some point.

I suppose I could attempt to find the hole in that monstrosity (it is a quite large air-mattress, you'd never know it is air unless you lifted up the comforter). Yes that is what I will attempt tomorrow. Not sure what the likelihood of success is but ... geez.

Anyway, August has a very very bad history for me but I won't go there tonight.

FYI Misc. catastrophic happenings in August:

*Proctor & Gamble Company introduced Crisco vegetable shortening.

*Elvis Presley died at Graceland on a toilet, his Memphis,Tenn., home, from heart failure at age 42.

*The Mona Lisa was stolen from the Louvre museum in France by an Italian waiter, Vicenzo Perruggia.

*Pete Rose was banned from baseball for gambling.

Cracked Head Like a Pipe

an early drawing of myself

i don't know where it started but the dizziness in my head is where I first noticed it. we were sitting on the couch discussing odd relations and trauma and i felt my head begin to swell. temples pounding, i feared my skull would stretch so far apart that my scalp would start to crack open like a sour egg. no crevices were found when my hand finally reached my head but by then i could feel the bitter foul bile rising from my stomach up through my chest and robbing me of my breaths. where were the breaths? who's the thief that stripped the air?

is this the enmeshment that so originally destroyed my life? how did it happen and what the f*ck am i going to do now? there is no safety from it only the most acrid bitter dread and foreboding that falls with the leaves. the leaves are falling early this year and i d*mn them all for no just cause of their own.

how ironic it is to hate anger. alleged righteous anger is the worst of all the angers. it is righteous anger that causes every ounce of me to flinch in terror and causes my body to go into shut-down mode. to have righteous anger you must experience the complete and utter alone and helplessness.

it is easier to just have a temper tantrum or a fit of rage or flip someone off on the road or punch some stranger in a bar. the avoidance of righteous anger is what destroys our society. it is better to bomb than to feel ... to empower by dis-empowering others ... to avoid the limp helplessness of a pile of crap.

I'm Not a Vegan But Still Think All Things Are Created Equal

She tells me, "she's just a cat ... they don't have the same rights as humans." I hear this all the time and haven't thought much of it. Until now.

I'll catch allot of heat over writing this but perhaps all living things should have equal rights. No, I am not a vegan, I eat meat, and yes I would kill an animal or plant for my survival as well as the survival of other humans ... well, most humans anyway ... but think about it: if we treated all living things with respect and care would we NOT be having such environmental problems and would we NOT be having so many wars and terrorists attacks? I'm not saying problems wouldn't occur but do they have to be this bad?

How do we teach people to treat all living things with respect and care? Fortunately, I have the answer to that: we teach others through example and helping them to feel better about themselves. Also, we can make some new laws. Yes, I am already aware that I am an idealistic hippie.

I've had a sick shelter cat for months now. Everyone tells me to take him back to the shelter. My other cat is rather incontinent and people say to get rid of her or lock her up. I consider them as good family so why would I do that?

Because humans have dominance and power does not give us the right to destroy that of others but instead gives us responsibility for the care of others. It's not just survival of the fittest, it is survival for all because if they go then we go.

Nocturnal Chatterings #13

hey, check out this insomnia parody of "the scream" so cool

-- yep, here it is again
++ well, at least it's been a while
-- i suppose
++ furthermore, good solid reason for this one
-- can't really say i know
-- ten years of marriage...a tenth anniversary is supposed to be good right?
++ well, it probably doesn't feel so hot when you're separated
-- right ...
++ it also doesn't feel so hot since you lost your job this week and got a nasty motorcycle burn
-- right, i lost more than a job when i got downsized, i lost a community of geeks similar to myself ... that's hard to find ... but the burn, well, that was HOT
++ maybe this could be an opportunity, that's what we're about right, turning crap into flowers?
-- not really
++ .....

++ ..... i really don't know what to say when you get in these moods

-- how about, say, NOTHING

++ .....
-- it wouldn't be so bad if i knew what i wanted to do with myself. i really don't. i just want to go to the pool everyday and read and swim and have happy thoughts of popcorn and soda and the dvd i'll watch that night
++ you can do it for a while
-- the world is in a state
++ the world has always been in a state
-- one minute a job and insurance, next minute neither. ...there goes my 7-month debt reduction plan, the super pc i was going to build, and the rest of my list ...
++ you'll have to find things to do that do not cost $
-- is there such a thing?
++ ......
-- damn

Liberation From Our Chains ... True ... but how?

"Our deepest fear is NOT that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, NOT our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?'; Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us, IT IS WITHIN EVERYONE! As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

(from Nelson Mandela's 1994 Inaugural Address)

NOTE: I actually got this quote from www.tammyfaye.com. I did not agree with most things she said or believed but she was genuine and kind to others.

Turtle Reflections Are Fake?

“When all alone, a turtle will gracefully swim in the ocean, when all alone, a person will gracefully swim alone. The quiet feeling you get from a turtle reflects how a person can feel alone, until someone reaches out a hand.” *

do until (a == giveUp)

{

Go to the pool and pick out a chair to lie on.

A couple of hours all the other chairs around me are gone and I am the only one in that area.

People gather -- just not with me.

It’s my fault.

I send out a message and I can't seem to make it stop

}

loop

*Dan Sullivan

l

Biological Properties

The Role Of Social Services in Child Abuse

FACT 1. Child is incested by parent.

FACT 2. Child is removed from parent and put with biological grandparents or kin who abused the child's parent.

FACT 3. Biology dictates property of children.

FACT 4. Foster homes are an option but there is a high rate of abuse there too.

CONCLUSION: It must be better for a child to be raped by a biological family member other than the parent.

Leave 'Em In The Dust

I was cruising to the pool on my Ninja late Sunday afternoon. Warm but no humidity and the wind was light and fresh. There was not much traffic as I pulled up to a stop at the red light and then went about my way once the light changed green.

It was soon after that a beat-up Chevy Cavalier rolled up aside me and a female reached her hand out to give me the finger. "Hmmm..." I thought. "What did I do, did I cut this car off? ...there was no one around and I was quite alert....damn that makes me ... ANGRY."

Kicking my machinery into higher gears, I pulled back the throttle and ruthlessly raced up alongside the Chevy. We rode side by side as I kept a hard glare on the woman. It wasn't long before the Chevy started to slow down and pull behind me in avoidance but then we both hit a red light.

Unavoidable, the Chevy pulled up next to me and the man in the driver's side waved at me. I continued my glare. I was ruthless. I know what this woman was probably thinking that I was some spoiled punk on a fancy bike getting in her way and my bitterness rose to the back of my eyes. Via my eyes, these are the thoughts I pierced her with:

"Do you think that your finger means anything to me? Do you know what my life and trials have been? Do you think that I am any different than you. No, to all the above. Look me in the eyes! SEE MY EYES! SEE ME! SEE WHO I AM! I AM LOOKING AT YOU! The bike's not paid for and I work my ass off at work and at life. I don't settle."

When the light turned I rolled in the throttle and left the Chevy in my dust. Sometimes you have to do that.

The Irony of Zen and Pity

Creative Labs Zen VisionM

It doesn't help to wallow in self-pity but ... I'm trying. Yeah, it's pathetic. It's a pattern. It's me.

Today I got a $4 protective case in the mail for the "new" used MP3 player I bought myself. I was excited. My old one is passing on with a big tendency toward retirement and I do love listening to whatever music I like when I want ... but on my drive home tonight I realized the irony of it all.

Here's the story: Last Christmas I bought the same MP3 player brand new for my husband along with a $40 protective case and it lies in the back of his closet unopened. I've often thought to myself - "did I buy him a present that I wanted?" - because I try HARD NOT to do that. I hate when people do that. But ... why else would he NOT open it except that he didn't want it but I did. I don't know...

When we first met, we loved the same music and loved going to all-day music festivals. I loved lying in that lousy sunny lawn just trying to keep enough fluids in so we wouldn't pass out. We had even less money then and drinks at the amphitheater were quite costly. Anyway, I had hoped it would renew his love for music ... I hope that was why I bought it ... for him, not ME ... yeah, I guess I hoped we'd both have something in common together again.

... however, it's another night in this apartment with another bottle of amber Dos Equis trying not to tear out my jugular. I could go home, it's simple enough to just pick up and move my junk ... what has changed though? Answer: big fat nothing. What about the plans and hopes I'd had for myself and worked diligently toward? Answer: big fat nothing. I was very elated and relieved to have received my MCAD certification earlier this morning but what has it done for my life? Answer: big fat nothing

Clawing

no words

stuck inside myself

i hear the scratching noises

from my own clawed nails

i thought if i could reach myself

then i could reach you

i was wrong

you have to reach yourself

a waste to have tried

to save myself?

Being Interesting == Being Interested

Within the past week I have realized that I am somehow chasing my separated-husband as I did my own mother.

It is a frequent practice within the mental health community to examine the relationship between mother and child.

I do not subscribe to the belief that mothers are to blame for all of their children's problems. Mothers are no doubt a substantial influence - for better or worse or both - but in the end we all must settle our on fate.

Nevertheless, the effects of the mother-child relationship are significant.
I won't go into the horrors of my mother and they do not hold a candle to the kindness of my husband. YET, I find myself chasing my husband as if it were my mother all over again:

"Please pay attention to me!""Please can I matter allot?!""Please be interested in SOMETHING that I am doing. I think I am interesting, why can't you? After all, I have a broad range of interests!"

Damn, why can't I tell the difference anymore? How am I supposed to tell the difference as to whether or not I am serving some sick need or if I am really wanted? How can I even think that I am wanted if nothing about me interests them?

Anyway, is being wanted enough? I guess it depends, again, on what you are wanted for.

Silence Echoes Loudly

“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”*

Allot of people do not talk to each other because they are afraid of some sort of conflict or risk; however, oftentimes, the risk is greater when there is no verbal communication. If you are afraid of speaking to someone because you want to avoid an argument then you are actually putting your relationship at greater risk.

Do not think that if you do not share your thoughts and feelings with the other person, then no communication has occurred and you are safe. A much stronger form of communication - in the form of ASSUMPTIONS - results and this is much more poisonous than the potential arguing and discussing of your position.

The best way to kill a relationship is to not have one at all.

*George Bernard Shaw quotes (Irish literary Critic, Playwright and Essayist. 1925 Nobel Prize for Literature, 1856-1950)

Mexico Diaries (Day 8)

5:30 AM: (alarm goes off - hit snooze)

5:40 AM: (alarm goes off - hit snooze)

5:50 AM: (alarm goes off - mumble profanities and sit up in bed)

5:55 AM: (gather belongings and mumble profanities)

6:30 AM: (checkout)

7:05 AM: (shuttle to airport is late)

8:30 AM: (arrive at airport)

9:15 AM: (load airplane)

9:55 AM: (plane leaves for the US)

10:15 AM: (begin to snooze)

10: 25 AM: (violent kicking on back of seat and violent looks given to child behind)

10:30 AM: (begin to snooze)

10:45 AM: (violent kicking on back of seat and violent looks given to child behind - fellow passenger complains)

12:30 PM: (arrive at destination airport 40 minutes early)

12:45 PM: (interrogated by customs police for travelling alone and sniffed by dogs)

1:00 PM: (ride has not arrived - dragged 100-lb broken suitcase across terminal to train - phone ride to tell him to meet at other end of train stop)

1:05 PM: (discovered that the ticket machine is accepting change only - reach into pocket only to find pesos - phone ride again and agree to meet at terminal #2)

1:15 PM: (drag 100-lb broken suitcase to terminal #2. Legs cramp, collapse, and suitcase drops. No breath, arms shaking from strain, tearful)

1:20 PM: (police threaten me to either move it to terminal #14 or they will arrest me for suspicious behavior - police is informed that there is no way in hell i can move that damn suitcase to terminal #14 and they can keep the damn thing if they want)

1:22 PM (police assist luggage and myself to an elevator and escort us down only to point to terminal #14 way down the road - try to phone ride hysterically with no success due to lack of connection)

1:30 PM (arrive at terminal #14 and begin to violently kick the 100-lb broken suitcase then sit down and phone ride again - tears persist as onlookers are amused and police gather nearby)

1:45PM (ride arrives and carries suitcase - myself to winded to speak or make sense - legs still cramped - police disband as I leave with ride)

2:15PM (arrive at home disoriented)

Days later: (slowly regaining some orientation to environment - legs are only vaguely sore now)

Mexico Diaries (Day 7)

“`Wouldst thou' - so the helmsman answered. - / `Learn the secret of the sea? / Only those who brave its dangers / Comprehend its mystery!'” *

The salty breeze whips my sun-dried hair into my eyes as I gaze into the Caribbean looking for answers. Confused, I do not understand why I cannot discern the wisdom that is in the sea. It must be too great for my comprehension. I've come to no conclusions regarding what to do with my life. Besides getting rest, I had hoped that I would be able to go home with some sort of solution to make me better. I have none.

I KNOW that I must take care of my physical health as well as my emotional health. Stumbling through life with a run-down dizzy body is not living.

I KNOW that I must find something more meaningful to do with my career. I can't just sit at a nice air-conditioned desk making some John Doe a heap of cash. Whether my reasoning is selfish or not, I crave more fulfillment and I'm no longer sure if one's intentions matter or not. The bottom line is not just the purity of my soul but whether or not I've done good deeds, bad deeds, or neither.

I DO NOT KNOW what to do with my failing marriage or the rage that boils my blood into black madness.

So it is with a paltry of answers and a mass of unanswered questions that I turn back to the sickening commercialized-resort to pack my bags for the trip home.

* Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Mexico Diaries (Day 4 to 6)

Somewhere, I developed an interest in conquering the waves. The tide has been high and I have taken to body-surfing. Every time i visit the sea i am more amazed than the last. The waves are very mathematical .. like life ... and I wonder if they contributed to the mathematical genius of the ancient Mayan culture.

It is easy to understand how the sea must have given insight to centuries of peoples -- especially those of centuries to go with nothing else to look to but their environment.

With riding the waves, I learned that I have no successful choice except to go with the flow of the surge. If a huge wave is coming then I have to swim towards it and get on top of it at just the right moment to ride it or it will take me under. It is easy to tell when a big one is on it's way via beachcombers up beach screaming.

Today a large guy was running away from a wave and that did not work, of course. The swells are fast and strong. I've seen many people run only to get knocked over. When the waves are really tall, like over half as tall as I, then I like to look back at the white-cap when it passes me by so that i can watch it crash and laugh at my delusion that I actually "conquered" the wave. Sometimes I see people get totally wiped out by it.

So, ocean life is like human life:

• Standing hesitantly near the edge is worse than going in because the crash is so much harder there and it takes longer to recover. You may as well jump in.
• You have to take what hits you get and make them work for you -- not let them work against you.
• Running away does not work. Face up to curl.

Mexico Diaries (Day 1 to 3)

LESSONS I SHOULD HAVE ALREADY LEARNED DURING MY LAST TRIP TO MEXICO:

1. Do not drink the water. Really, do not even consume ice cubes.

2. Beware of the waves where water meets sand.
2a. Beware of sand getting in your swimsuit when said waves knock you over.
2b. Beware of said sand getting in your bed.

3. Bring antacids. Always -- no matter how well you feel before your trip.

4. Be aware that fluid is constantly being sucked out of your body. Your body is practically a sponge and you need to replace your lost fluids or you will faint. You are closer to the equator, duh!

5. Wear SPF70 - at least. Be sure to apply evenly and apply everywhere - otherwise, you will end up looking either like a leopard or a lobster or both.

6. Do NOT be taken in by salesmen in fake uniforms when exiting the airplane. Go directly to your travel representative or cab -- PASS GO AND DO NOT STOP. Do NOT give them money.

7. Take hat with sunglasses. Wear.

8. Let your camera lens adjust to the change in temperature and wipe any fog off lens. It's the damn humidity and makes a difference.

Who Is the Pain In My Left Butt Cheek?

Yeah, I know, the title will get me unwanted hits but it is true. I was informed today that my left glute is very weak and that is why I am having so much pain.

"What the h*ll am I supposed to do about that?" I asked the doctor. She responded with giving me hand-outs of exercises to remedy this issue. How does that even happen?

Yes, it is bad butt I truly have nothing else I care to blog about and it has been a long time since I have blogged so I have to blog something. I'm working my but off trying to reach certain goals before going on vacation so that I can hopefully come back with less riding on my but.

My Buddhist Thought #1

"When you clearly see spoiled food on the bottom of a glass plan but cannot clean the food off, then turn the pan over. The spoiled food is on the other side."

Dropsy Results In Pining

When I was a young girl, I frequently would look from my bedroom in that small cold house into the night sky with it's tiny stars. I prayed to God to send me a real mother. As I grew older, someone told me that I should pray for my future husband -- that he may be safe and well so that we would find each other in good condition so I included him as well.

The night before I was to leave for college, I sat at my window and I prayed again to whomever was up there. It is with vivid clearness that I recall this because I was so distraught and crying fiercely. I prayed to NOT go to college -- to PLEASE let everything work out there at home -- for my mother to be well. I must have cried myself into some type of psychosis because I CLEARLY heard a voice telling me that "This is for the best." Falling asleep soon after, I left for college the next day.

Tonight I watched a romantic comedy -- not something I'd normally watch. I tend to avoid them but my husband likes them. How ironic...

During my drive back to the apartment, I kept telling myself that I don’t need anyone because I am enough for myself. No one can meet my hopes. I think I may be a closet romantic. I started to suspect this a short time ago. So on my way home I just kept telling myself that I am not going to chase after anyone ... no, they will just have to find me instead. It does no good to hope and pray.

When I got home, I ran a warm bubble bath to the sounds of Louis Armstrong. The leaky faucet was spraying a cold mist into my warmth so I covered it with a cloth. I couldn't stop the cold but I could cover it. Yes, it may be hopeless ... I do not know ... I may always be that small girl pining at her bedroom window into the stars hoping for company ... damn ...

I'll Say It Again

I'll say it again over and over to myself as long as it takes ... maybe you should too...

"Falling is easy

It's getting back up that becomes the problem

If you don't believe you can find a way out,

you become the problem."

"If you believe you can find a way out,

Then you've solved the problem."*

*"Falling." Staind, "Chapter V"

Lost in Gaps

Lost amidst Y-incisions and DNA studies, the only type of fiction found in my hands for the past few years has been forensic thrillers written by authors along the lines of Patricia Cornwell and Kathy Reichs. I grew up on classics like Les Miserables, Grapes of Wrath, Pride and Prejudice, etc. but ... I suppose went astray at some point.

Recently, a fellow blogger and pal at http://bluecountrymagic.blogspot.com/ recommended the Adriana Trigiani Big Stone Gap series. Immediately, I was taken in by the lead down-to-earth character Ave Maria, the soothing descriptions of Blue Ridge Mountain life, and finished all four books within a few months.

For my entire life, I have been searching for answers. Mostly, I just want to know how to get myself together. Yes, the answer is supposedly within myself (blah, blah, blah) but I do tend to prefer books, music, and movies. Not good places, I know, but I do tend to live an isolative life. Anyway, I learned most of my morals from Leave It To Beaver, Brady Bunch, and Silver Spoons and consider myself morally competent so it can't be that bad. I digress ...

In any event, I'm not sure what I was looking for in the character Ave Maria but tend to think that it had to do with her relationships. There was a point in her marriage when her marriage was suffering and she fell in love with someone else. I thought she was going to falter and have an affair but Trigiani, true to her strong characters, did not let that happen. Ave continued on. Though willing to give up her marriage if necessary, she and her husband worked on it and they turned out with a happy ending. He turned out to be more deep and thoughtful than I had thought.

In the last chapter of "Home To Big Stone Gap," he confides to Ave:

Jack (husband): "We shouldn't let a day go by when we don't stop and think about what we are to each other and how the best part of that is the part that changes. That's the mystery. And that's the part of people that's divine. Accepting the unknown and trusting it."

Ave: "How do you know this?"

Jack: "Because I almost lost everything and I thought about what I'd be if you didn't love me. I was angry at you for bringing sadness sometimes, and that's just human ... it didn't mean that I loved you less -- it meant that we had something to learn TOGETHER, and if we just hung on, we'd get through it. "

And they did -- they came through quite well. It is good for relationships to change and grow but how am I to tell whether or not they are changing and growing for the better? Would I feel content instead of tangled? Would I feel connected instead of disconnected? I have no answers at this time. I can only assume I will know it if it happens.

He Loves Me ... He Loves Me Not ...

It's been a rough week and I had been looking forward to the three-day weekend to get stuff done and to relax a little. I've had a seriously ill cat, a flat tire, blown fuses leaving me with no power, work problems, and today the ceiling fan blew off the ceiling and went whirling with glass shattering everywhere.

My spouse has been out of town for the past few days with his job. I asked him over to the apartment to make dinner for him but he decided to stay home and order a pizza instead. We've been living apart since February and it has been hard. I want to reach out but it is difficult because there doesn't often seem to be anyone to reach out to ... especially when I do knock but no one really answers.

I keep thinking it's a "female-thing" -- me wanting someone chivalrous who is willing to fight for me and enjoys being with me instead of just having a "warm" body around but ... I think that is probably common to both sexes. I think we all desire to be desired just for who we are and nothing more.

Feeling quite hopeless now, I wonder how many petals I have left on my flower? He loves me ... he loves me not ...

Scissors and Running Go Foot In Hand

An unforeseen routine has crept into my life since moving into the apartment:

• wake up, get out of bed, and clean cat vomit.
• go to work late and do half-ass job.
• leave work early for whatever reason.
• come home and clean more cat vomit.
• finish half-assed work.
• bathe, medicate, return to bed

I can't say life has been better than this. I grew up in poverty and neglect but didn't think much of it. After all, everyone else was living in poverty and such. I believe it was in the music "Fiddler on the Roof" that it was said that it is "no crime to be poor." The problem is that I can't make it stop. The poverty I don't pay much attention to ... I've done alright by myself thus far and am no longer in the poverty bracket. But neglect ... neglect should be a crime.

Test results from my blood came back today and I have no major disease; however, I do seem to be very dehydrated and malnourished. I'm not sure why this surprised me. About a week ago, I kept a journal of my inputs and outputs and such and was surprised at how little I have been eating. The problem is, as mentioned, that I can't seem to make it stop. I am eating and living no differently than any other time in my life, except perhaps even better.

I've been educated and taught nutrition and self-care yet I am still clueless. The past four meals I've cooked have burned so I did not eat them. It is suddenly clear to me why I have always eaten out so much in my adult life.

After burning my dinner again tonight, I watched the very very crazy movie, Running With Scissors. Shamefully, I found it semi-funny but it also left me afraid. At the rate I'm going I may end up with a tube down my nose but I am not afraid to die. Most people are afraid to die. More are afraid to die alone. I've not had this fear. I fear living. I suspect more people fear living than would admit. I fear even more living the rest of my life the way I have always lived it and despite what efforts I make to change the way I live -- nothing changes.

So my legs decided to they wanted to run. Despite my low glucose, potassium, albumin, and whatever else, I went outside and I let them run run run until they were too tired to run any longer. I am not athletic but I am a runner. I just can't seem to stop. ...I suppose I have scissors too.

Relief vs Terror - or - Heartbroken vs Suffocation

Recent pre-wedding scene of Grey's Anatomy - a series that follows the lives of young surgical interns in a Seattle hospital.

This season's finale of Grey's Anatomy, left us with the marriage ceremony of a handsome surgeon (Burke) and a brilliant young intern (Cristina). Burke had already established himself as an excellent surgeon while Cristina remained eager, excited, and compulsive in her drive to become the best surgeon possible. She had always been displayed as stone-cold and career-driven until she met Burke.

It was at this time that she slowly started changing aspects of herself to fit his lifestyle up until the wedding ceremony where she had been encapsulated in an uncharacteristic wedding dress, pencilled eyebrows, and Burke's family heirloom symbolic choker around her neck. She had a panic attack which delayed the wedding but when she finally decided to choose Burke over her career, he walked into the room and told her that he can't marry her. He realized that the Cristina before him was not his Cristina and the only way to save her from completely losing herself was to set her free.

After leaving the room, Cristina turns to her maid-of-honor, states “He’s gone... I’m free... Damn it...” and collapses into a mass hysteria of her conflicting emotions all the while ripping off the family choker.

What did it take for Burke to decide what to do?

Falling Is The Easier Part

"You in your shell are you waiting for someone to rescue you from yourself.

Don't be disappointed when no one comes. ...falling is easy it's getting back up that becomes the problem ... If you don't believe you can find a way out then you become the problem"*

Have you ever noticed that the bands that really survive are the bands whose individual members grow and evolve? The bottom line is that we grow to a better place or we stay where we are.

For example, Korn was a great band. They were raw and honest and their pain was real; thus, their reign was long. However, they are still stuck there in the smelly shit-infested waters they began in and their fan-base has shrank. On the other extreme, there is Green Day who started in their tortured teen-age angst but have become even more talented and engaging as they have faced many of their demons and as they pass their courage to others, their fan-base grows.

Another band I've watched grow from misery and suffering to semi - peace is Staind.

On their website, http://www.staind.com, lead singer Aaron Lewis speaks of the bands growth referencing their latest album 'Chapter V':

'My life, up to a point was shit,' begins the frontman. 'But I've come a long way. I grew up in a trailer park in Vermont. That was the shit I got out of me in TORMENTED and DYSFUNCTION, and tailing into BREAK THE CYCLE. But the title, BREAK THE CYCLE, says it all.' In some ways, the song 'Falling' sums up Lewis' and the band's development and current state of mind, as he sings, 'the falling is easy, it's getting back up that becomes the problem.' Lewis concludes: 'I can't keep talking about how easy it is to fall. Life is about getting back up and brushing yourself off after the fall.'

----------

"You wouldn't listen even if I told you. Who the fuck am I to say?

You're TOO BUSY with the LIES they sold you -- Another cure to fix your day.

OPEN WIDE for all the shit they feed you while the TV DEFECATES on you
and blindly walk wherever they will lead you while your edges SLOWLY FRAY.

I've given all I can and are you pacified or do you want more
from me?

If someone else showed you the way would you take the wheel and steer?
If they jumped off a bridge would you meeting them on the ground and
claim that it never made a sound? Everyone plays the hand they're
dealt and learns to walk through life themselves...(for better or worse)..."*

*Tormented, 1996

*Dysfunction, 1999

*Break The Cycle, 2001

*14 Shades of Gray, 2003

*Chapter V, 2005

Odd Random Thoughts: Hug-Ability

Venus de Milo

I think many of us are like Venus de Milo. We want to give and receive hugs but we have no arms.

Unspoken Decisions Are Loud : Addendum

MORAL OF THE STORY:

If someone tells you that you are hurting them and that certain behaviors are hurtful and not acceptable then you should listen and act accordingly if you do not want to deal with the consequences. Otherwise, you have no right to complain.

It is certainly reason for the girl to be majorly p*ssed off when she had given good logical warning only to be treated as a silly spoiled girl. She was willling to work through the muck but they chose NOT to. Then, when she followed through with what she had clearly stated she would do then the other party acts as if THEY were the injured ones here -- that THEY were the ones being treated unfairly!

I will try to give good wishes to you: May some higher power grant you people insight into reality. In leau of, "get a grip you filthy animals."

Unspoken Decisions Are Loud

Being a minor, the hospital staff had called the girl's parents in for a meeting. If she would not bring herself to eat soon then they would place a tube down her nose for nutritional purposes.

Though they they looked haggard and sad from the long drive, there was an abruptness in their attitudes when they entered the therapy room and the dying girl shifted fearfully in her seat.

Putting the fear aside, the girl asked them to get help for their behaviors. As diplomatically as she could, the girl attempted to explain to them how their behaviors had hurt her and how she could not continue as things had been.

The girl apologized for being weak and asked them if they would go to therapy and help her. If they would not help, then she also informed them that the relationship would eventually deteriorate and end. The parents did not listen to her, more less believe her.

The mother cried out in tears, "Why do I feel as if I am being blamed?" The father sat quiet, still, eyes to the floor ... as always. The mother's tears continued to fall as she felt great pity for herself.

Interrupting, the therapist informed the mother, "Your daughter is dying and needs your help."

The crying martyr of all simply replied, "But why am I always being blamed? Why doesn't anyone care about me? I give and give and no one cares."

There was no need for a tube as the girl eventually began to eat. The decision was obvious and ties were eventually broken. Though physical ramifications remain, the girl continues on her way but the pivotal moment not forgotten ... only to be repeated in lesser form.

Pros And Cons of Cat As Significant Other

Sammy the Scoot

Pros:

1. Runs for door to greet me and give me some good lovin' each day when I come home

2. Soft, furry, and smells good

3. Likes fun and play

4. Appreciates serenity

5. Gives affectionate baths

6. Likes to "spoon" and cuddle

7. Uses the litter box and hides "indiscretions"
8. Easily amused
9. Entertaining
10. Purrs at my very presence

Cons:

1. Not allowed in public facilities, restaurants included -- nor has the desire

2. Not one for long walks in the park ... or most outdoor activities

3. Does not like rock concerts

4. No human communication

5. Causes loud crashes in the night

6. Hairballs
7. Moody as hell
8. Litter box
9. Lies on laptop keyboard
10. No income

Why I Need A Vacation

Tulum, Mexico

I swear to any higher power, that I HAVE to go. See the picture above? I've been there. I want to go back and never leave. I want to live there. If I had the cash, then I would live there. Unless I die, I will return there and I will return soon.

Looking back at the past couple of years alone makes me want to jump off a tall building. I've been sick with the serotonin syndrome, the effexor withdrawal, the fibro and associated symptoms, the insomnia, the torn patella and tendinitis, and the relentless unexplained infections that cause my white cell counts to soar and me to crash. I see an individual therapist, a couples therapist, a chiropractor, a massage therapist, and a score of medical doctors. I've left one job crammed with such political instability that two people had heart attacks only end up at another job where I have to work until my vision goes just to keep up. I'm living in a crummy apartment, my marriage has collapsed, and now I've accrued more debt than I have had in a long time.

I've seriously considered withdrawing all possible amounts from my credit cards, telling student loans to go to hell, packing a bag, and just disappearing. I am burned to a crisp and this is why I must take a vacation.

Odd Random Thoughts: Lesbians With Sperm

Tonight I was reading an article on the cons of genetic mutation, specifically the destructive effects on bees. Then I came to an article written by a lesbian (this was an alternative newsletter) who had published a listing off products with dangerous chemicals (for example, formaldehyde in yogurt, etc).

All of this led my thoughts to cloning and what is my opinion on this, etc. With pain, I recalled that someone mentioned to me that, at any time, I could be eating steak from a cloned animal and I would have no right to know this.

The result of this pondering left to to this notion: what if women could be cloned to produce sperm and men cloned to have uterus'? Would lesbians and gay men be able to impregnate each other?

Nocturnal Chatterings #11

-- (in bed during the am) I try to fall asleep on my back with good
alignment so that circulation is increased throughout my body and so
that I do not wake up with so much stiffness and pain.

-- The problem occurs sometimes during the night when I end up in
embryo-position anyway.

++ That's probably natural.

-- It's almost as if I need a body cast ... hmmm ... maybe wrap myself
up in blankets?

++ As in mummy-style?

-- Yes but I'd probably worm my way through so I'd need to thin boards
... plywood ... on each side of me.

++ That sounds painful.

-- I could cover them with carpeting.

++ That sounds like allot of trouble.

-- OH, I KNOW, I COULD GET A COFFIN!

++ That's morbid...

-- Yes, but then no one would have to buy one whenever I die because
I'll already have one I'm comfortable with. ...not to mention that I could pretend to be a vampire!

++ I don't think those are made for comfortable sleep. They are for
dead bodies, not live ones.

-- Yes, but I could customize it ... say, fit an air mattress in there
with some memory foam ... or fill a raft with water as in a waterbed !

++ It's still morbid. How would you explain that to visitors?

-- Well, the bedroom doesn't get any activity anyway ... but I could
hide it in the closet!

++ Somehow, that is even more frightening to me ...

Ten Lessons II

Ten more lessons I've learned from living alone in a crappy apartment:

1. My cooking is worse than I had thought and will have to splurge on a cheap microwave.

2. No need for bottle openers - kitchen drawer handles work just as well.

3. Survival on plastic ware is possible but glassware is more sturdy.

4. If I am elderly and look back on my life, am I going to care that I paid my student loans on time, showed up to work everyday at a steady job, got a promotion, and kept my laundry up? Or, will I look back to the trespassing and skinny-dipping, dancing under the stars with a nice boy to a song on the scratchy radio of the old 60-something rusted Nova, lying in middle of a wooded park watching the sun shimmer through the leaves above, speedy Ninja rides under the night streetlights, walks in the summer rain?

5. Preparing for the future is good, living in today is better.

6. Fun and side-splitting laughter are 100 times better than Prozac but harder to get.

7. I am a hoarder of ripped media and am ashamed ... though not enough to quit.

8. Do not give pity to a man or he will wallow in it and use it against you as entrapment. Same probably goes for some women (I try not to be gender-biased.)

9. I need to be able to organize my belongings once a week.

10. I do not have peers of my own age & interests but need them badly. I do not know what to do about the situation and this has been a long-term problem.

Taking Myself Back To Court

“Tennis is more than just a sport. It's an art, like the ballet. Or like a performance in the theater..." *

The quote above is true and, like art, ballet, or theater, either you have "it" or you don't. The first time I stepped on a tennis court was in junior high intramurals and I had "it". Despite being black, tarry, and highway-like (poverty-rural-American version tennis), I was immediately drawn in by the court and tennis became a miracle relief from my awkward puberty-ridden frame.

No one else really cared about it much because we lived in basketball country but my body, for the first and only time, knew immediately what to do -- the footwork, the ready-position, getting level with the ball ... FLOWING ... I've never done ballet but I'm sure it's the same ... like figure skaters who make it their routines look so natural and graceful.

There were not many people to play with but I still visited the courts daily. Subsequently from being alone on the courts so often, I developed a very bizarre, but effective, serve which I eventually tried to rectify to better form and is now a mess. For a while, I had someone go out with me and we'd play from morning to evening most of the summer. The only other serious players lived in neighboring towns and were members of elite country clubs that would have nothing to do with the likes of me.

So desperate for ball feeds, that I actually convinced my angry mother to come out to the court on occasion and feed me the balls. I clearly remember her struggling in the 110+ degree Missouri humidity with her face beet red, a ball in one hand, and a cigarette in her other. ...she had to take lots of breaks. I had hoped these outings would convince her to invest in a ball machine for me but that was too expensive.

Anyway, I stopped playing a few years back but, during a recent state of insomnia-mania, I enrolled in a tennis class one AM and had the first session yesterday. I was initially afraid since sitting slumped in front of pc has been my main activity over the past years. With my blood pressure low and fibro pain high, I was afraid that I would be horrible or would faint but I did quite well. Even though I was the weakest hitter in the class – including the elderly – my form was well. For a moment, I felt redeemed.

Today I am quite sore ... but I want to go again for the redemption ... the feeling of my body doing something right again for once ... if you ever find something like that you have to fiercely bite down and clasp like a bulldog protecting all that is his.

*Bill Tilden

Time's A Revelator

Five Lessons I've Learned From the Album "Time (The Revelator)":

1. Time's a revelator
2. Emancipation requires a bullet in the back of the head
3. If there's a song you want to hear, you can sing it yourself.
4 I dream a highway to myself, a windin' ribbon with a band of gold, a silver vision to arrest my soul.
5. I want to sing that rock and roll. I want to 'lectrify my soul, 'Cause everybody been making a shout -- So big and loud -- been drowning me out. I want to sing that rock and roll.

Time (The Revelator), Gillian Welch, 2001

Ten Lessons I

Ten things I've learned while living alone in a lousy apartment:

1. Cats are very important and have trouble with change.

2. I like lavender baths each night in a clean tub.

3. I like to keep my belongings organized.

4. I like lights low.

5. I prefer background music instead of TV, but generally like quietness.

6. I've missed reading.

7. It is harder to make myself eat.

8. I am surprised how some people have emerged as friends when I would have thought otherwise.

9. Thus far, I've been able to pay rent.

10. Unscented candles are peaceful.

Another Black Failure

I had the day planned out. Study date, tennis, appt, get my hair cut (which I hate), get other necessities but when I started up my car I new something was wrong when the engine light started flashing, the car shimmying back and forth, and the smoke coming out of the exhaust. I managed to make it one mile to a car place before it pretty much died.

Damn, I had wanted to pay for my summer pool pass and get a microwave to aid in my eating issues. I have no idea what this will cost. If it weren't raining then I would have just used the Ninja but there is this bizarre winter weather in April here and I've ended up with a yellow rental.

This is the way life works. Crap happens. My favorite cat is extremely depressed and there was blood in the litter box when I got home today. No clue but I am afraid.

It was the first new car I have ever owned. Nothing fancy about it but I like it allot. It is paid for. These things happen. Maybe I should stop getting everything black?

Black On Black II

2:48 AM: This is not the black hour of depression that awakens me this night. This is the hour of the black-cat-hairball-hacking-in-my-face-while-sleeping.

I gave him some hairball remedy and tried to go back to sleep but then he kept jumping on the bed, completing a circle around me, then jumping back down. It is my hope that he is doing some type of ritual-spell that will cast us out of this darkness we have been living under. With my bare hands, I'd go take out the eye-of-a-frog if it meant getting myself together.

I've missed a couple of days worth of work this week due to my distress and my bp is low probably due to my not eating or something and I panic when trying to decide what clothes to wear. I'm wearing unmatching socks right now which would be a catastrophe in my normal life.

Missed Connections

It's 4am and I am awake...again...this is the black hour...the hour of depression where all my haunts come to wrench my chest.

The spouse came over tonight for dinner and a movie. Both quite tired, I think we each dozed off periodically. When it was bedtime, I offered for him to stay but he did not. I cried when he left and woke up crying at 4am.

My life is filled with connections that are almost made but never met.

I remember once when my mother was angry and/or depressed at something I do not know. There was an old cardboard box...I think a perfume sample had come in it...anyway, it was very shiny and was quite attractive in my child's eye. In those days, you could get a pound of beads for, like, a quarter. I had some of the round transparent colorful ones that had the diamond cuts in them and they enchanted me. There was no glue so I taped them to the shiny silver box and drew little pictures and messages of love with my little fingers. I remember writing that I was sorry on the box. I placed it by her bed while she was sleeping in the hopes that it would cheer her up when she awoke.

She never mentioned that gift. I think it was a decade later when I had accidentally come across it safely stored away. I was touched that she kept it...but it was too late.

Black On Black

It was difficult but I managed to get black cat #1 to the apartment. He hisses, grunts, and growls at black cat #2 but #2 just stares at him as if he is a crazy cat. #1 has batted at #2 twice, as far as I can tell. The second time, #2 batted back. I hope this is the worst of it but it is not possible to know. I can hear growling at this moment. The messes I create....

Another Black Screw-Up

the rescue cat

Yesterday I became overwhelmed, lost all rationale and bought a black rescue cat in attempts to drown my pain from missing so dearly my other black cat. I know --- I've lost it again. Chalk up another one to neurotic insanity.

I realize that I have made an awful mistake. It was unfair to the rescue cat and it was unfair to my own cat whom I WILL be back again with someday. But now when I live again with cat #1 then what will I do with this new cat?

Most people would wonder why all the fuss over cats? For goodness sake, just taken him back to the shelter or replace the old with the new. A cat is a cat, right? Or, perhaps, they can co-habitate and all will work out. After all, what is wrong with having some extra cats in a safe loving environment (as opposed to a shelter?)

THE PROBLEM IS that I have LOST ALL RATIONALE when it comes to this situation. Forget the psycho-bullshit for a minute. I lost a child in a most cruel manner and will not be able to have another. In the process, I lost all that was whole in me. I've never been so close to another living breathing being as cat #1. He represents so many things to me that I ache and cry and lose all grips without him. I cannot concentrate on anything, am truly lost, and care for nothing else.

I'm at a point, which I seem to arrive at often lately, where I dearly wish that someone would just FIX this one.