Coffee Rhetoric: Confession
Showing posts with label Confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Confession. Show all posts

August 18, 2011

Spilling Open: Introspection

I haven't had the opportunity to spill open on here in a while. .. not in the fashion I'm accustomed to. "Diversifying" and introducing different elements to this blog has prompted me to sort of shut my personal self off. Since I can't afford the luxury of sighing and heaving to a shrink, I figured I'd get back to the middle and do it here. I miss spilling open here. The luxury of having my own forum and not restricting how I utilize my voice is a wonderful and freeing right to have. This very late and sleepless night, I choose to project in a very self-analytical way... for I'm the best, worst, most knowledgeable judge of me, myself, and I. 
Three days ago, I turned 34. I haven't had the opportunity to let the fact that I'm in my hardcore, mid-thirties, sink in until late last night and then now. I've always been an extremely leery woman, but it seems the older I get... the grumpier, more impatient, cut and dry paranoid I become about people's intentions (not to mention the insane hormonal changes my body is experiencing). My thoughts run a mile a minute... still... and my intuition goes into overdrive... The nights I can't sleep (which are often), I'm more in form and my emotions run the gamut.
Close friendships I've had for years are still intact, easy to maintain, and I cherish them. I also curse them for being so long-distance.  I'm finding that cultivating new ones is a difficult process for me. Sort of like the three times I've tried, to no avail, to care for and nurture organic  French lavender plants.  While I enjoy meeting their acquaintance, I don't trust people upon first coming into contact with them and schmoozing is a daunting task I'd rather avoid. My expectations of folks I fancy tend to be pretty basic, but high (within reason)... so when they generate a flaky outer-crust, I have visuals of them engaging in unsavory discussions about me when I'm not around and cackling at my expense after I've opened up to them (a la the movie, Carrie... when she flashes back to her mother mockingly telling her; "They're all gonna laugh at you!"). Mind you, none of the things I'm divulging charts the madness of an Angry Black Woman who's aging and coming undone. I've gone through some schtuff  over the years with people I considered friends, who eventually had no use for me once I stopped being able to provide them with the things they needed from me or who found someone more ride-or-die to guffaw and shoot the shit with. This is nineteen years worth of angst. I'm conflicted; sometimes  assholish when it comes to shielding myself... and so it manifests in a brooding, somewhat cold package ready to cut someone's jugular (or shutdown and close up shop, depending on the situation)- when I think I'm being compromised in some way. I stay solitary for the most part and actually quite enjoy doing things alone... In fact I find it gratifying and not unlike the scene from Catherine Breillat's French film, Romance... where Marie stalks her boyfriend to a sushi restaurant... chagrined by his flagrant pleasure in being alone eating his California rolls and reading his book ... without her... to which she mentally voices over that she would've rather found him cheating with another woman. 
While I dislike being a mercurial woman sans the desire to nurture deeper relationships with the opposite sex or entertain any new applicants for friendship, I've grown comfortable in my ... aloofness (for lack of a better term), as it's easy to just exist in a world unto myself and with people I'm comfortable with and who know me. But while my opaque and indifferent nature seems comforting and offers the protection I need from being inconvenienced in some way...  it's exasperating. 
Aging, learning how to deal with other people's personality quirks juxtaposed against my own, and fumbling towards my core presents an amalgamation of different feelings: perplexed, resistant, and frustrated ...
I understand that venturing outside the comfortable confines I've built around myself is a difficult but very necessary thing I need to experience more often... Despite it being so easy to withdraw and become self-contained... In essence, I just want to be left the hell alone; yet essentially I want to be happy having reached some sort of balanced medium... but I know this isn't a healthy or realistic expectation. What can I say?... I'm a middle child who embraces her right to err and grow. Stay tuned...

February 03, 2010

Just Drive

I feel like I've reached an impasse. A never-ending maze with an elusive exit. So many decisions, so many things to nibble away at, but I'm completely deadlocked. People, places, and things never cease to perplex the hell out of me. And at times, it's overwhelming. I've had moments where I've attempted to check out, but alas, to no avail, because worries, my thoughts continue to plague me. I manage to be aloof in certain aspects of my life i.e., dating; wishy washy suitors, and an endless supply of assholes. In other aspects? Not so much; opportunities, my livelihood, my future. 
Ofttimes I think I have a dubious guardian, who loves toying with me and seeing me grapple with the worst luck! Or perhaps I'm an unwitting contestant in some twisted reality television program, where the masses are watching me wrestle and fight my way to the top. I don't know, but I continue to shadowbox. To bob, weave, sidestep... dance... twirl my way to what I feel is rightfully mine! I'm at a loss right now. I don't know how to plot my next move but I do know that I'm ready for my turn. I'm thinking. I'm pondering. I'm pissed. Intense game of mind play at work. Please do not disturb!
The fight continues. This is round 20.

October 11, 2009

Flailing

I've been trying to fight this cold, pressure in my chest for the past few days. Amazing what a number stress can do to one's body. One moment of vulnerability and sick just grips your body like a wendigo does a desperate and hungry soul. Add stress and the insatiable need to excel, to prosper, to just get a break for once and no amount of Vitamin C or medicine can break its hold. The chest pressure is the most distressing. As much as I'd like to relax, the pressure (no pun intended... actually, pun intended) is on.... things are starting to mount, those who collect are staring to circle, and while my resolve isn't broken it is cracked. The hunt is exhausting for I feel like I've exhausted most if not every resource available to me. I inhale... I wheeze like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I exhale... more demonic sounding wind. I need to exorcise this lame luck! I'm working hard to exorcise this lame stroke of luck!
One bright spot is that I do have an interview this Wednesday, at a non-profit that does great work to benefit homeless women and their families. While it is part-time, I am hoping I make a good enough impression so that I get an in. As much as I hate to speak such things out loud, because I'm slightly superstitious and believe doing so before a result has come to pass, will result in a unfavorable outcome... perhaps spilling it open with mild splash ... and letting in marinate into the universe will ... *I don't know* ...

July 31, 2009

This Much I Know Is True: 30+

Born Days are no huge deal for me. I'm not one to make a whole big production over that matter... I'm just thankful to the goddesses that I reached another year. In the cult of personality we currently live in, there are some who aren't so fortunate. Which is why I cannot stand listening to people sullenly bemoan the fact that they're getting older. In any event, next month I will be 32 years old. After I hit the age 30, several things occurred to me, these are some of them ...
  • I'm no skinny bird, however I can honestly say I'm comfortable (for real) in my skin, and am okay with maintaining the body I have now.
  • It's not that serious.
  • I'm not altering my appearance, personality, attitude, body to placate anyone.
  • I like to eat, and am not ashamed about it.
  • I like wine and an occasional cocktail and am NOT an alcoholic so eff you.
  • Thanks, but no thanks.
  • Excessive tree-hugging and hippiedom get on my nerves.
  • I like anti-perspirant and will continue to shave.
  • I don't want to hear about your sexploits or your bowel movements.
  • I can be attracted to, date, or like whoever the hell I want.
  • I don't have to like you, especially since you're such an a*hole.
  • No, I don't want to hold your baby.
  • I don't want your pet jumping all over me.
  • Twitter is fun, who cares if you don't understand it, get over it.
  • No means 'NO.'
  • Flaws are extraordinary.
  • I don't have to explain how I go about me and mine to you, her, him, or them.
  • I'm still single, and your point?
  • Desperation is reckless and unbecoming.
  • So WHAT I don't have a car.
  • I didn't ask you for your advice you self-righteous so and so.
  • I don't give a damn how much money you have, you're still a jerk.
  • I don't have to smile, YOU smile.
  • I like saying "menstrual cramps" out loud. No need to whisper it, esp. since you just told me about your sexploits and your bowel movement.
  • I'm not a slender, flexible instrument that's inserted into the urethra, therefore I'm not "bougie."
  • I suppose I do have BOURGEOIS tendencies when it comes to specific things, however.
  • It's okay that I'm NOT sexually repressed.
  • I like simplicity.
  • I can't stand unnecessary noise and drama.
  • Don't like being around sullen, ill-humored folks.
  • I don't have to make small talk with strangers early in the morning, if I don't feel like it. I wanna listen to my music.
  • No, I'm not straightening my hair, but I appreciate (or not) your suggestion.
  • My uterus and or reproductive organs are none of your damn business.

June 28, 2009

Disturbia

As difficult as it is to admit this out in the open, some days I feel... lonely. I feel alone. I honestly have never admitted that out loud... verbally or in writing. Here's where the revelation becomes slightly more provocative... I feel lonely because I don't trust very many people, and I'm an extremely leery and guarded woman. Certain circumstances as of late, have caused me to become even more self-contained. Nothing worse than opening yourself up to folks... whether within the context of dating or budding friendships... only to have your privacy or your trust compromised.
I honestly don't know that I feel that bad about being a loner, however. This post is definitely no lament. I mean, I have my moments where I think I need to be more trusting, more open, but then I shake it off and say "eff it."
This is something I grapple with daily, I did as a teenager and I still do at the age of 31. Perhaps this is why I'm still single, while both of my sisters (one older, one younger) are married. I've never had a long term relationship or sustained one long enough to want to introduce him to my family or friends. I must say, my wariness isn't unwarranted. Men I've dated have proved to be, wishy-washy, self-entitled jerks. I'm not one to settle just for the sake of having warm man parts to keep my mattress comfy. Friends? I have very few. I keep the circle tight. I've networked and tried to reach out to no end, only to come up against shady types, who aren't that trustworthy afterall, and will flip quicker than a mafia rat. One friendship that continues to sustain is my dearest and bestest... Cat. Who I've mentioned numerous times on this blog. Thank heaven for her. I guess my point is, today is one of those days where I'm feeling, well, bored and lonely and felt the need to spill open, out loud about it. While I'm not particularly saddened or regretful for being as leery as I am, it can become exasperating at times ...

April 20, 2009

Update- Tales from the Darkside and Home Improvement

Conversations that transpired while walking around my neighborhood this past Friday:

Encounter 1: Lady buffalo stancing outside Family Dollar and Carlos's Supermarket: " 'Scuse me MISS. You got a dolla'??" Me: "Nope." Lady: "How about fifty cent? You got ANY change?????" Me: I shook my head emphatically and hurried inside towards my destination for Folgers and flip flops.

Encounter 2: While walking from Green Apple produce market

Man: (standing next to disheveled Black woman: "Scuse me Miss... you think you can give me and my friend here some money...." Me: Shook head emphatically and hurried inside.

**I come back outside from store**

Woman (beggar's friend), in a slow, drug induced drawl: "Scuse me... MISS. Can I have some..." Me: Shaking head so hard my neck pops, as I hurry down the street towards home... Woman (yelling after me): "Well, you got a CONDOM den??"
Encounter 3: The best friend (Cat to those not in the know) visits. After settling in, we head back out at around 10pm... Cat, being the genius that she is... parks TWO WHOLE BLOCKS away! We stand and wait outside, in the mild night air, waiting to cross the street...
Condom Lady approaches... head lolled to the side as she lumbers over, like a corpse out of Night of the Living Dead: "Scuuuuse Me. Ladies... Ya'll got aaaany money I can..." Cat and I in unison: "NO!" We run out into busy traffic, desperate to get away from Condom lady. Bitch is lumbering towards us at a clip now!
We make it. I verbally abuse Cat for parking so far away!! And Onward Life has been somewhat busy. I'm still... still... settling into my apartment. It is starting to feel a lot like home, however. With several free acquisitions, a few priced next to nothing accents, switching things around and figuring out (through trial and error) what works in this particular space, things are starting to come together. I now have a king sized bed and board (sans frame, but not dire) today. I'm excited. The bed is huge. Bedding will be costly, but I plan on NOT paying more than 30 dollars for king sized bedding.

Check out what's going on thus far

Oh and I also acquired this amdist the madness.

January 24, 2009

These and Those

Another boring and quiet Saturday. Actually, I'm starting to develop an affinity for quiet, boring days. It gives me time to think about a myriad of things, people, developments, etc. It also seems as if I'm conserving my energy for Spring and Summer.
In any event, being able to mull things over has led me to the following conclusions: Some people are naturally miserable and bitter. There needn't be any justification or circumstance for or behind it. Until recently, I don't think I've ever met a person who is just rotten to the core for no apparent reason. Most of the assholes I've come across have been hurt in the past in some way and use it as a defense mechanism, or have had rocky upbringings and dysfunctional relationships with one or both of their parents. Never were they just simply allergic to being personable and genuine. I'm not a cheerleader nor would I classify myself as one of those "nice people." I'm simply me. I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I am genuine, and while I'm not "nice," I'm personable enough that people actually want to engage me in conversation or hang out with me. While I don't have a huge crew that I pal around with (I prefer small, intimate groups or solo), I think it's safe to say that I'm not a social pariah.
It's absolutely fascinating (and somewhat amusing) watching a person struggle to be polite to others. I've never seen or experienced anything like it. An adult person conflicted over whether or not they want to continue on with being a small-minded, uneducated jerk versus acting like someone with sense and social etiquette. I'd be willing to wager that they wake up in the morning jumping up out of the wrong-right side of the bed, rush to the bathroom, splash tepid water on their face, and then look in the mirror at their reflection thinking aloud: "Now yesterday I was a first-class, Grade A cunt! Good job me! How on EARTH am I going to top THAT today though?!" Insanity.
I've also come to the conclusion that debating a point with someone who is set in their particular way of doing things and have already determined they're right in their assessment, and will talk all over you to drive and park their point on home is useless. Better to say, "but, but, but..." shrug, and let them get the last word, because the jockeying back and forth becomes a fruitless effort on your part. Find the comedy in their smug, know-it-allishness- because you know you're open minded and knowledgeable enough to bow out gracefully. Why exert energy on someone who hasn't a clue, even though they think they do? Not worth it.
Lastly, I think Bobbi Brown's Limited Edition Brights Eye Palette is simply beautiful, but I can't justify spending $70.00 on eye makeup when I can go to the drugstore and buy Loreal H.I.P. eye colors for just a fraction of that cost. It's better to stare at Bobbi's palette longingly and wonder, "What if I COULD afford it though, and wasn't in the throes of financial trials and tribulations?" That there is grocery money. Spending it on eye makeup would be cause to get dildo-slapped. I also want a block of this for my natural hair. More attainable than the $70.00 eye palette, non? Oh, and shout out to the brotha who tapped me on the shoulder, beckoned me to unplug my earphones in the middle of a great song, and who opined, "You look like a VERY elegant Black woman. I gotta learn more about you." and sauntered away. He probably will never learn more about me, but thanks for the compliment anyway, oh, and two middle fingers to my older sister who commented, "Oh, was he wearing glasses? Ohhhh, I know, he must've been retarded." When I relayed the story to her last night ...
That's it.
**Updated to include: How about that Inauguration Speech? Very thrilling. It'll be interesting to watch how our new President tackles the mess at hand. Hopefully with fervent determination and grace. I for one am proud that a person of color has galvanized a nation to embrace change (kicking and screaming in some instances), allowing him to break the class ceiling and hold the highest politial office. One thing to inspire hope... another thing to carry through and see that message to fruition. At this juncture, I'm over the "We have a Black President" mania. I'm more interested in what our new President, who just happens to be Black, will do to help mend the damage done to our country. He has an arduous task ahead of him and seems up to the challenge. Many of us are still caught up in the rapture of change, but I think it's time to move past Obama's skin color and focus on his politics and what he has in store for us. **

August 26, 2008

School's in Session

How do I know? Because, despite the fact that I took an earlier bus to work, I still managed to be ten minutes late. Seems my bus got caught behind a stagnant school bus's flashing STOP sign, every other block! And once the children are settled and seated on the school bus, you know the driver has to fucking sit there for an additional five minutes, just to spite morning rush hour commuters, and to go "nah nah nah nah nah nah" over the fact that traffic HAS to stop when a school bus driver's STOP sign comes out.
I also noted the young hellions waiting at their respective stops. Faces greeeazed up and glistening. Scrubbed of this summer's funk and muck. School uniforms pressed new school bags slung over their shoulders as they waited to be picked up... reluctant yet hopeful looks on their faces. One kid looked downright distraught. As if he weren't quite ready yet. Needless to say, I do NOT miss those days. While some students' start date is this week, others begin the stresses of academia next week. I have been and will be avoiding the mall at all costs! Nothing worse than the school shopping rush! Wall-to-wall bodies taking up every inch of the mall. Parents sucking their teeth at indecisive and petulant tweens. Teenagers cutting their eyes at their mothers for not letting them purchase those $200 Citizens of Humanity jeans. I'd rather wait my turn.
As far as the Condo I Covet goes, progress has stalled. Par for the course unfortunately. See, the universe and the forces that be, seem to have it in for me. Contentment, PEACE never comes sans attached strings! I don't have it that easy. Some people are simply lucky bitches, others have to fight, beg, and plead for a little luck. For a tiny break. For some good karma. So in the meantime, I'm back to pounding the pavement (so I'll have a back up plan)- until I hear the good (or fucked up) word. My sanity is contingent on my settling into a place of my own again, and having some semblance of stability.

July 25, 2008

This Much I Know is True

The past week or two has been doggedly hot and humid. In the throes of a relentless heatwave, it was down right oppressive. People dragged themselves down the street. Irritability was high, a sheen of muck and moisture coated every body, morning rush hour finding those same bodies moving in slow motion. I couldn't seem to move an inch without sweating. Then came the rain, thickening the air with even more moisture. A few days ago, I sat on a crowded bus during one of the hottest, most humid days.
It reeked of burnt flesh, sweaty (and sweated-out) hair relaxer, perfume, greasy take-out sandwiches, tangy ketchup, moist bodies, bunk old wig, shitty breath, and the last remnants of deodorant before it loses its valiant fight against must and b.o. This unusual perfume left me delirious and gasping for a fresher smell, and so I pulled out the rolled up green cotton cloth I had in my purse (a co-worker described it as a "sweat rag" when she saw me patting my brow with it) and breathed in the faint but sweet smell of my Black Linen perfume oil. Then I begin to mull over a series of realizations...
I've come to realize that lately, time escapes me. Free moments are spent catching up on sleep, movies, and running errands. I haven't dedicated enough time to this medium and I miss it. Perhaps once I'm completely settled the way I need to be, I can resume some sort o regular writing groove.
I've also come to realize that when one runs into a male co-worker outside, en route to work... during rainy day, it's never wise to answer "wet" when he asks, "Hey, how are you?" It just seems like a very awkward answer to a relatively simple question... and can leave it open to lewd interpretation. Despite its innocent intention.
I realize how wonderful it is to find amusement in stupid behavior. Rather than growing agitated and angry, finding comedy in the inane is good fun.
I realize pants I wore only a year ago, are now too tight. And I don't give a shit. Because I still think I'm cute.
You know what else I know is true? That my inclination toward the sexy can sometimes be painful and uncomfortable, and so it's a great idea to carry flats with me to work, and to keep my Pumas in my bottom drawer, in the event that I forget to bring my flats.
One of the truest other things I know is that ill-fitting clothes are no match for an unfit, misshapen hulk of a body. And so the summer heat encourages bad wardrobe choices.
Summer also brings about The Crazy. Prompting folks to acquire bravado the size of Europe, so they engage in fisticuffs in the middle of the street.
I realize that I'm sick of seeing shirtless men (especially of the "beer gut" variety) stomp-strutting down the street with their tee or wife beater slung over one shoulder, and their titties jiggling and baking in the hot.
I realize that in this harsh economic climate, I'm growing greedier for money. I'm all about the money. Not anyone else's however. I rely on me, myself, and I when it comes to my livelihood. I also realize how much I love those $.99 songs on itunes.
Lastly, I realized that while I am excited and I feel good about yesterday, I can't be 100% at ease until paperwork is signed in black and white and money changes hands. So I'll continue to pay my storage fees in the meantime. But I'm thinking it's going to continue to be a productive summer!

April 08, 2008

In Which Coffey Learns

During these stuffy sinused, work filled and busy days, I've finally had the opportunity to reflect on conversations heard whle out and circumstances I've run across. I've been taken to school, if you will. Inadvertent lessons taught to moi. As my ears pop and my nasal passages clear up, I'm suddenly awash in a brilliant sea of clarity. I've realized, in this current cult of personality, that people will simply continue to be themselves in all their loud, stank, uncouth glory. Bad, ugly, unhygenic, and overwhelmingly raunch. This much I know is true. I realize that people have no qualms about boarding the bus, early in the AM, taking their seat, and then breathing heavily... their breath reeking of jungle rot or hot garbage on a particularly humid day. I can sit here and ask the universe whether it's too much to ask or wish for certain people to floss, brush or scrape their tongue, gargle and take it to the back, perhaps pop a mint before venturing out into the world... But why bother? The answer is yes, it is too much to ask. And so I suffer silently. Fate decreed that this is the cross I must bear sans questions. I also learned while en route to the mall (on the bus of course)- this past Saturday, that a young Hispanic lass I'll call Romeo (all of maybe 16 years old) was headed in my direction to meet Lissette. Lissette, apparently, was going to meet Romeo at the mall, so that he could "fuck her." ... "Yeah," proclaims Romeo to his buddy, "Lissette's gonna meet me there so I can fuck her." To which his friend replied with a spitty chuckle/chortle combo. Ahhh, I learn something new every single day. Is this what young people do now? Do they have trysts at the mall?? Whatever happened to sitting in the dark, at the back of the theater? Or going to the park after dusk? Folks our future depends on these very same young people. In which case, I'd rather not be cryogenically frozen. I'll just go head and rot. I also learned that a mall is NOT the place to be on a Saturday afternoon, with a sinus infection. It was hot, it was extremely crowded, and I couldn't concentrate for I found myself wondering about Romeo and Lissette. I didn't want to run into them in some sort of compromising position. Speaking of young people, I also learned that in their quest for fame, they like to videotape themselves beating the living daylights out of some poor unsuspecting victim, in hopes of uploading it on YouTube. Yup, don't freeze me, just burn me and throw my ashes in the nearest ocean. Life's little lessons can be a bit overwhelming when swallowed whole sometimes. Now pardon me while I go wait for my food to digest ...

February 24, 2008

Coffee Rhetoric

Recently, I read an interesting and eloquently written article in the New York Times, penned by Judith Warner. She drew a stellar correlation between coffee and significant childhood memories, and transported readers back with nostalgic, coffee-related flashbacks. Everyone who has ever read this blog pretty much knows how much I adore the stuff. It's more than a simple addiction to caffeine. The smell, the look, the body, the richness of a dark roast, it's rich history... everything about coffee also stirs certain feelings and memories within me. I remember my mother brewing pot and then making a perfect mug full, warning me not to touch it before setting it on the table to settle just a bit. Of course I never listened for I always indulged in just a sip when she left the room. When I think of coffee, I'm reminded of how, at the precocious age of 13, excited I was to be skipping to the cafe downtown to indulge in a cup. I, a fledgling hipster, drawing the disgusted gasps of my classmates as they exclaimed, "Ew, you drink coffee? Yuck!" And how grownup I felt when I ordered an espresso or a mocha... eventually graduating to a Mocha Kiss (a concoction of coffee, chocolate, and Khalua liqueur)by the time I'd entered high school. Never having been carded.
Every now and again, I would coerce a friend to join me in my afterschool cafe jaunts, growing annoyed if they scoffed at the cafe culture and didn't act mature enough in said company. Despite the on again-off-again declarations made by experts, citing coffee as being bad for one's health, it never and still doesn't phase me.
There's a certain sophistication about coffee drinking. Of sitting across from a friend or loved one steam rising from cups, as you play catch up, engage in gossip, or just simply enjoy one another's company. The comfort of sitting in a coffee house people gazing, dreaming wide awake, lost in thought. There is definitely something about the coffee culture that prompts people to slow down. I remember being in Sicily and noticing the absence of take away cups. Patrons simply stood at the bar en route to work or some place else, downing their espressos and being in that moment. Using those few minutes to exchange pleasantries or catch up with the latest.
I can't fathom not drinking coffee. It has always played a significant part in who I am. It helps define my personality. More importantly, it sets the tone for the rest of the day or it makes it easier to cope, anyway. Perhaps this is why diners offer copious amounts of free refills and banks and most offices offer free, limitless cups of freshly brewed coffee to its patrons and co-workers.

January 31, 2008

Diary of an Insomniac

Work, drop some Visine, keep busy to avoid nodding, moodiness, irritability sans reason, multiple bathroom breaks, coffee, coffee sludge, more coffee, water, hard candy, lemonade, vitamins, home, eat, tv, more tv, read, eyes wide open into the wee hours, close eyes for a couple of hours, wake up, channel surf half heartedly, fall asleep, wake up two hours later, massage swollen feet, iron out kinks in neck and back, shuffle to the shower, shuffle through the morning, rush to the bus stop, rush to work, Work, drop some Visine, keep busy to avoid nodding, high strung, sudden burst of energy, candy coffee, powdered lemonade mix, erotic day dreams, burning eyes, blow nose, eat almonds, drink more coffee, ... wine, coffee, coffee, wine, hallucinate, doze, wake up with a jolt, doze, watch infomercials, doze, doze... sleep, wake up 2 hours later, shuffle... doze... work... coffee... .... .... Visine, Advil, Pamprin, coffee, heavy lids, tea, news, infomercials, unintelligible, snooze button, thoughts wont be quiet. ... heavy lids... heavy. thtoughs. wont. be. QUIET. lids. thoughts... heavy lids... thoughts wont be quiet... ... ... pass out fully clothed, not having washed face. wake up at 3 AM, pajamas, wake up hour 1/2 later... heavy. lids. lids. SNOOZE, BUTTON, .. .... coffee. ... ... auto pilot. *yawwwwwn* coffee.... vit.a.mins ... autopilot.

January 23, 2008

No Love

Amidst all the chaos, the trials and tribs, my fall and subsequent rise. In the crux of my moving, job hunting, cursing my bad luck, finally starting and now settling into a new job, apartment hunting, contemplation, absorption, ups and downs... In the midst of this egomaniacal reverie... I haven't, not once, entertained the thought of dating, men, signiffy others, sex or lack thereof, or the joys of digital manipulation, even. It has been awhile since I've lamented over my solitary confinement. I haven't thought about ghosts from my pasts at all. They've all become nameless, insubstantial phantoms. I don't wonder what they're doing, I don't care where they are. I don't remember how they look, smell, how much they got on my nerves. What they did to make me sigh with resignation. No dating... away with the online dating profiles, peer to peer contact, considering dating prospects, making eye contact and averting my gaze right before something clicks... all of these things have become my current reality. Because I haven't thought about it until this second, none of it has really mattered or made me feel any self-loathing and self-pity. Oh, I've become quite used to my aloof and cold nature and have settled into my chilly exterior (my interior is quite warm). I honestly don't know what to make of it really. I'm neither pleased with myself or unhappy about how self contained and focused I am. Once things have quieted down, only time will tell what the dating future will conjure up. What creatures will come slithering out from under their moist rock, which normal, sane, handsome gentlemen will take me off guard in spite of myself or what embarrassing yet salacious fodder I'll feed to the masses (or perhaps keep to myself). ... Only time will tell. I am ready for another adventure abroad... this much I know is true.

November 06, 2007

R├ęsurrection

Picture a moment in space and time where you've become trapped in a stifling box. You suddenly become stagnant and lose your place in the rat race, because you've dropped out. Not willingly. Not without lack of trying to reach the finish line, but from fatigue. You veer off to the side, lungs exhausted, holding your sore sides trying to catch your second wind. You've made your way over to a nearby bench to settle. You settle out of mere necessity and survival and no other reason. Your discontentment breeds resentment, because while you've settled in order to survive, you still find yourself hanging on by the tips of your fingers. You're hanging from a cement ledge, decorated with pigeon droppings (some old and crusted over, some freshly dropped), your feet wildly kicking... a desperate attempt to gain leverage and hoist yourself up. But alas to no avail. You basically just give up and decide to meet the asphalt's acquaintance. Just before you decide to let go, someone stomps on your fingers with a lethal pair of oxfords, forcing your throbbing fingers to slip. You fall. arms flailing wildly in the wind. On your way down you glimpse a blur of faces, watching you fall to your death. You hit the ground. Lying flat on your back. You're stunned. You can't move. First your eyes focus on hulking human forms staring at you from where you've fallen. Smug in the grandeur of their positions. At first you can't move. You lay there... looking up at a sea of genuinely concerned faces staring o'er your crumpled body. Sore and possibly broken, you somehow manage to hoist yourself up. Testing your right arm first. You slowly lift it in the air, grimacing from the pain and effort. Stiff, straight you make a fist with your hand. Slowly but surely, you're able to lift your middle finger in a grand gesture of triumph. You aren't defeated nor are you paralyzed. Your joints seem to work fine. More importantly you've managed to survive the fall. Finger in the air, you watch the hulking silhouettes retreat back inside and away from your moxie. Chagrined. It make take brief period to recover from your fall, but you're still triumphant... because you survived it.
Just saying. Imagine that scenario. That's it.

November 05, 2007

Solitaire

Sometimes, when I'm in a room full of people I still feel like a lone ranger. A mirage of bodies moving, side-stepping, dancing around me, yet somehow I never manage to stitch myself into the fabric of what's going on. There, but not completely there. Standing outside the perimeter, weaving in and out of the crowd like an apparition. Selfish, quiet, and introverted as I study snatches of conversations and examine people's body language. Trying to gauge what the moods are. It's almost as if I'm existing in an alternate world while smack dab in the middle of reality. Escapism in its most narcissistic form. I engage in small talk sparingly. At times stingy with what I offer up. Stoic, aloof, embittered because I can't get into the groove like everyone else. Afraid that any vain attempt would be fruitless and seem disingenuous and forced. So I exist in that moment, in a purple haze... as if under the influence of some potent drug or libation. Dazed. And content with my restraint. Fine with the fact that I am out of my element. As much as I tout the benefits of my solitude, I curse it as well. Because I've grown comfortable in it. Too comfortable.

September 07, 2007

A Wrinkle in Time

I have a confession to make. While I am glad to have made it to 30 (and it was a tumultuous ride to say the least), I've become a bit obsessed with the aesthetic of aging. I've upped the ante on my skin regimen and want to kick myself if I fall asleep without having washed off my eye makeup and the environmental elements. It's maddening when I do that. I must also admit that seeing a woman with a heavily weathered, acned, or wrinkled visage makes me feel a bit, well, uncomfortable. My mind starts fast forwarding to the future. Wondering if my face will look like an old moccasin or a greasy pizza. Of course I fret over such matters when the rest of the world is asleep and I'm alone. I start checking for crow's feet, laugh lines, hormonal related acne. Or any other normal signs of aging. I wonder if I'm the only one who can see my pores or if I'm just giving in to my neuroses once again. I turn around around to and fro in the mirror, checking the span of my hips (which have gotten a bit wider), and bottom. I look to see if there is any additional dimpling in the backs of my thighs. Perhaps it's just me and my crazy idiosyncratic behavior, but I never expect age to make me ever more neurotic and nit picky about myself. Confidence and self-acceptance aside, I have to struggle not to agonize over my own, bothersome vanity. My growing narcissism has become the bane of my existence. These thoughts creep and crawl under and around more pertinent concerns. They snake and coil their way around more relevant matters. Prompting me to moisturize and exfoliate my way to comfort. When I let such thoughts have their way, I catch myself because I begin to feel guilty and foolish. ...