Space

The night is blue
a bit like you
I mean your eyes,
blue and distant
I mean literally,
I Google-Earthed you,
and the globe kept spinning,
the seas kept stretching
more miles than I want to know
ok, about 6,000
and I aimlessly wondered when you saw the moon tonight
and if it was as blue through your tent
as it is on my lawn
then I wondered
how your skin would look under this light
if your freckles would be more
or less apparent
as I kissed them
and would your eyes lighten or darken
to aquamarine or sapphire
as my palms searched
the solid home of your chest
through the thin cotton of your shirt
the simple ease
of our hips slipping
into the grip of such a night
I seem to be
caught tight
and mercifully
in your grip,
and it's holding.

RAW is WAR!!!

Turned on the boob tube tonight and for some inexplicable reason have decided to leave Monday Night RAW on in the background. Someone named Carlito just spit a mouthful of masticated apple in the face of someone I think they called Triple H, who proceeded to body slam Carlito after the usual dramatic pause and build-up. Before that they brought out a line-up of supposed past lovers of Vince McMahon, with Vince continuously sporting that look of mock-surprise.

Perhaps more embarassingly, I just spent five minutes watching a shopping network where a woman applied make-up to another woman, with another cooing and oohing over the flawless results. I watch, trying to guess the age of the woman. I wonder how she manages, at (clearly) 40+ to have no puffiness under her eyes. Perhaps it's because she actually sleeps at night. How stressful can it be, modeling make-up?

I switch to public television. An interviewee states: "If Poland were a person they would be in permanent, unresolved psychological trauma." A voiceover announces: "Feeling neglected is a Polish character trait." My father's mother was Polish, his father from Belarus. So I'm thinking about those statements. Actually, I'm quite distracted by this program, it's pretty interesting. There are lots of Polish kids that come here to my neck of the woods to work at the casinos for the summer. They are all adorable/gorgeous and quite easy to spot on the street, as they have no cars and usually carry backpacks. Also very skinny and well put together. Though sometimes the girls get carried away. "We're in America! Freedom! Let's dress like prostitutes!"

OK, it switched over to England. Enough of this show. Actually, zap. TV's now off. Crickets crick-crack and rrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeee through the open screens, a moth attracts the attention of my girl cat. I want it to be earlier and there's a lot more that I want, too. I'm missing him and it's still almost 2 weeks 'til I can see him again, and it's driving me just slightly crazy.

Tonight I sent an email to this woman who does Rolfing, a fairly intensive bodywork treatment. I know it's wicked expensive, but I am considering trying it. One thing about it that really interests me is the claim that it can, and intends to, activate and/or help release emotional or psychological trauma. I am always intrigued by that sort of thing, as I'm quite certain I have... well, enough of it.

Last year I did this therapy session called "The Emotional Journey" (yeah, sounds totally queer) but it was very intense in that way, and also quite strange. I entered into "The Journey" almost immediately with no prompting and really wrung myself (and the practitioner) out for about 3 hours. Yeah, 3 hours! He said I was the most intense session he'd ever done. It brought me to a very vulnerable place, which at the time was sort of good, and sort of bad. It left me unprepared to deal with emotional trauma that happened shortly afterwards, but maybe that helped me process it better in some ways, who knows.

Digging through the dirt, digging up the dirt, digging. Looking for the truth that stills you, in a neutral position, just still. I like ending up there, honestly, and am willing to suffer a lot to get there. Off to hang upside down in the dark and listen to crickets... screeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!

What the Hell is My Problem?

I have written three - 3 - trois effing posts in the last 24 hours and have decided for one reason or another to not post them. They were all about relationships. Romantic relationships. The one I am in. The one I was in. There's nothing bad in any of the three posts, quite the contrary. So what's my problem?

I guess it probably comes down to privacy. I rarely write in depth about my family. When I write about romantic relationships, also, it is generally in very veiled terms, or as the relationship specifically affects me, not so much clear-cut personal information about them. That has been quite intentional on my part.

I can write about work, or neighbors, or my dog. But I just get squirelly when it comes to writing about romantic happenings. So I'm going to change the subject.

I started working on my own list of 101 true things about myself last week after being inspired by this guy, who was inspired by this other guy. I think I got up to around 25. So far, there's a lot about drugs. It sort of looks worse on paper than it seemed in real life. I don't know if I've gotten to sex yet. I mean, those are the sort of scandalous interesting-ish things people like to read about. I guess. But I will include some strange things that have nothing to with either of those things. I'm not a total degenerate.

Oh yeah, and speaking of true things! Did anyone notice that weird-ass comment on the post before this one? I was tempted to respond with something like, "Yes, I totally did use my inversion machine while naked in stiletto heels!" Sigh. In any case, I found it really interesting, actually - first that anyone other than the half dozen people that regularly read this blog bothered to read this blog, second that they found my story about the dance club too incredible to believe, third that anyone would think that I would waste my energy fabricating details of a non-event - I have a hard enough time lately posting anything at all, never mind making some shit up.

It just struck me really funny is all, and the comment felt very strange. Clearly the notion of such an interaction actually occurring exactly as I described it must feel - I don't know, threatening to this person? Not at all surprising that they posted "anonymously."

I really am frustrated by the fact that I've been having such a hard time posting. I don't want to talk too much about relationship stuff (and that's a big, wonderful part of my life right now) and work stuff is - well, I just get quite depleted at work, and try devilishly hard and not too successfully to not "take it home." Besides it's boring. Ditto with the health stuff. Again, refer to the title of this post. Right? Right.

Thanks for being patient, and bothering to check in. I am trying to get back on track. I'll probably start with some bad poetry. Have a happy Monday all!

Cutting Through the Bullshit

My mind, over the course of recent days, has basically been turning to complete mush. Work is kicking my ass entirely, I come home stressed, in pain, and unable to focus until I've had a half bottle of wine or a few beers, and by that time I'm disinclined to write/make cohesive statements about anything, because I spend a good part of the day trying to do that...

Et. Fucking. Cetera.

I have this wonderful new machine at my house that I have been using to hang upside down on. I demonstrated it tonight to my friend, and just to be silly, donned a pair of stiletto heels that happened to be lying on the floor right next to it, pretending that was part of the proper usage of this cool-ass machine. I think it's helping, a little, so far. My friend suggested that I procure a bat costume to wear while I'm using it, which made me giggle like crazy as I hung upside down. I happened to notice while using it this morning (while naked) that it creates a really interesting view of my torso. I might have to take some pics of that!

In other news, a weird experience: I went to a local dance club this past Saturday. I know one of the bartenders, so we got in for free. Hadn't been there in awhile. Things seemed different. More security guards. Crappier go-go dancers. But still, because of the generous hospitality of my friend, I basically drank about $30 worth of Red Bull & vodka for free.

The weird part: I'm on the dance floor with my girlfriend. Someone comes up behind me and starts dancing with me, touching my hips a bit etc. I go ahead and keep dancing, not checking to see who is starting to push against me. After a minute or so I turn around. I tell him, "I just wanted to see who I was dancing with." He says "I think you're hot." I notice the accent and brown skin, dark eyes. "Where are you from?" At first I think I hear "Belize." Then he follows this, saying, "I'm from Iran." I nod, and regard him.

It came quickly, "I'm sorry about what our country is doing over there. Do you have family there?" He nods. I nod. " I hope we don't end up in your country," I say. "We're very worried," he says. I look into his eyes, which have become deadly serious and still. I could blame it on the drinks. I could blame it on accumulated stress from work. But the truth is, when I think about the situation overseas - when I think about the wretched and immoral direction our country is headed in - I feel emotionally slayed, overcome, horrified. And so, without warning, I begin to cry.

The heavy bass of some Justin Tumberlake dance mix thumps between our bodies. "I'm sorry" I say. "I don't mean to cry." We try to continue dancing, but the rhythm is lost, and we stand there with this heaviness floating in the air. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asks. "Ok, but let me tell my friend."

Outside the club my ears are ringing, and I feel mixed up. We walk down the concourse with no direction. I apologize again for the tears. "You're the first girl I've met here who has talked to me about this. I want you to know how much I appreciate it." I explain that it's important for me to let him know that I do not approve of what's happened in the Middle East, that I want his family to know there are people here who are not gung-ho about destroying their lives and culture, who understand the evil that has been done in this country's name.

We found a corner and talked, and I cried some more as I thought about what's been lost already in Iraq, the true cradle of civilization, and what's at stake in Iran, with its profound cultural and historical legacy, its people. It was grief, it was pure grief, and if that sounds too dramatic for anyone, that's just how I play it, and that's just how it is. "People have no idea what's going on over there, what's happened" he says. We talked about our participation in protesting the war in DC, before it was declared. I told him about being written about in the local paper for flipping off Dubya when he announced we were at war and openly crying at the bar. The connection with this stranger that I will likely never see again, made my night significant, and real. "Don't cry. It's not your fault."

Evil does exist. Am I being too Catholic? Am I being too dramatic?

We returned to the club, and made a soldier's effort to return to dancing as if the world were a carefree place. We held hands, quite chastely, and seemed to understand why. We exchanged emails at the end of the night. I have no romantic interest in him whatsoever, and made it abundantly clear that I was taken.

These small things. It always comes down to the small things. It's the most I've accomplished all summer.

Back in the Ether

For what it's worth, here is about half of my big waaaaaahhhhhhh session from last Friday, when I still had no internets (fixed today, finally! new modem.) I left out the relationship stuff, because, well, there's too much to say, and I don't feel entirely clear about what I really want to say, anyway. So you get to read about my health problems, mostly, sorry, it's just been a dominant issue. Anyway...

Internet has been down all week, and it’s just as well, maybe. I’ve been one miserable fuck. 12:30 a.m probably isn’t the best time to start writing about why that is, but well, it’s as good a time as any. Where do I start?

Work. You know what, I could say a lot about it. I could get into a lot of specifics. I could talk about our new director, and bash a few of his, uh, management techniques. I could talk about one of my clients, but she’s exhausted me enough already this week. I mean, seriously, I’ve already written enough about her this week in regular old work notes to fill a small book. Work. Suffice to say I’m still considering quitting. (Addendum: She was admitted to a psych unit over the weekend. If only that meant I get a break from her.)

Health. Got the X-rays back. I guess I have degenerative disc disease, that’s a misnomer, they say (so why do they call it that?) because technically it’s not a disease, and technically it doesn’t mean your discs are currently in the process of degenerating, only that they already, uh, have. But there are degrees. As of now I have only spoken with my chiro about the written report that he received, have picked up the films and viewed them myself but he hasn’t seen them yet to analyze on his own and tell me how good/bad the situation is. I sure as damned hell can see where the discs are fucked up, though.

Strangely I have more pain, a lot more pain, about six inches below the “bad” discs. One fairly cool thing that’s coming out of all this is that I get to use an inversion table at my house for awhile. You know, one of those things you strap your ankles to and then flip upside down so your spine can lengthen and decompress. I can be just like Robert Scorpio on General Hospital now!

Other health: Frozen shoulder is really starting to state its intentions, and I’m annoyed.

Other health: Came down with a UTI/bladder infection yesterday, had to leave work a bit early for an emergency appointment to get some treatment. When I was at the office they asked, “Any fever or chills?” “No,” I blithely reply, though I could’ve said “Not yet! Give me about 3 hours!” ‘Cause yeah, I had a fever of 101 last night and I was freezing my ass off. Something about having a fever like that always makes me feel about 7 years old, so I found myself crying more than once, and feeling very small. Picked up an antibiotic, hemmed and hawed about whether to use it or try riding it out with cranberry juice and garlic pills and vitamin C and some other shit called colloidal silver. But then I got scared, and as much I really actually hate antibiotics, I decided to take them. They are making me feel weird. (Addendum: They are still making me feel weird.)

And there ends what I wrote last Friday. So yeah, Health! Issues! Boring! Like I said at the beginning of this post, it's been hard to ignore them. But - I am hoping to start a yoga class on Friday, that's when they have the "beginner" sessions, though I do actually know quite a few postures already. And again, the inversion table is coming. And - I'm considering getting a new bed, even though I kind of looove the size of my California King. I just don't think it's treating my back as well as it could. I may look into getting a knock-off Tempur-pedic. I will not be able to afford a King size :(

I guess I'm just saying I'm optimistic about changing the course of things, health-wise. And another thing - I'm feeling more optimistic relationship-wise, too, which is part of the reason I don't want to talk about that stuff too much.

Tonight I did laundry for my client that is in the hospital. Tomorrow I am going to visit her for the first time since she was admitted. She will either be overjoyed to see me and beg me to let her leave with me, or she will want my head on a platter and still beg to leave with me. I played absolutely no role in her being hospitalized. It was actually completely out of our staff's hands. But she may still hold me responsible somehow. I'm looking forward to seeing her, and bringing her clean clothes. I know she's totally freaked and pissed about being there, and I can't say I blame her. I hope the visit does some good.

I just ate a peach, and it was delicious. Now it's time to eat some Advil.

Keepin' On...

So I just realized it's been 12 days since I've posted anything here, I do have an excuse for at least half of that time, my internet has been down (still is - posting this from my parent's house, not my ideal location for gathering my thoughts.) I did start a lengthy post the other night, 'splaining what's been going on in my life lately, but I'm not done. The short story is that life has been busy and full of weird health and relationship problems.

The coffee is helping.

I'm off to work now - will post again soon.