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

July 13, 2012

Spilling Open

Paul Gauguin, "Brooding Woman"

Sullen Girl

 

I’ve neglected this blog long enough, but I’ve been working on editing a project that I’m expecting (or at least hoping) to pan out with some relative success. Also to be frank, I haven’t really felt compelled to update Coffee Rhetoric, contribute to any other platforms, or do any writing in general, as of late. None of the human interest stories I’ve been reading across the web, has incited me to chorus. Sometimes, I want a break from deconstructing gender, racial discord, intra-racial dysfunction, popular culture, and just the cult of personality in general. 
And while I don’t really feel the need to share that much of my own personal goings-on anymore, as I plod my way towards a break-through of some sort;  I will disclose that I am lamenting over many aspects of my being, while simultaneously celebrating my self-imposed solitariness… if that makes any sense. In other words, I miss being social, yet I have no desire to be around most people right now. 

It could be age—and me becoming while a grumpy old woman— or maybe it is just plain ol’ cynicism; but the thought of socializing or building with people doesn’t interest me as it once did… and neither does dating. My patience with certain personalities wears thin in a flash. Waning friendships and/or associations?  Bye… I’m not interested in trying to rekindle any of them; new connections? No longer interested in making any, save for a few rare exceptions and depending on the level of interest I have in the situation or person. This is not me having a pity-party and it’s far from self-flagellation… I’m not quite sure how to pinpoint my current state. It’s an amalgamation of feelings and a lack thereof.  I’m frustrated that personal goals aren’t panning out the way I need them to. I’m feeling like I’ve reached an impasse and want to buy a one-way ticket someplace faraway. I am struggling against the pull of “That Dark Place”, because I don’t want or like residing or visiting there. Essentially, I just want to be left alone… literally and figuratively; which I pretty much am, for the most part. I’ve learned to hide this particular brand of dismay well, because I've had to and quite frankly, don't really have a choice. Warding off encroaching demons that prompt me to shut down completely-- where I'm almost robotic, detached and somewhat cold-- is daunting though.  
Thirty-five is on my heels and I don’t care; as the last several Born Days, were uneventful and stark reminders of … many things, so I don't make much them... I prefer to spend them alone... with wine if I have access to any.   

Anyway, this is my attempt to write through the blockage as I continue to claw my way out of my funk, because I'm mentally worn out. At times I wish I “indulged” in other, otherwise I’d just smoke or pill-pop my way towards an epiphany… but then I doubt I’d ever get anything productive done, I’d be existing in some delusional state of being, and it’s not really a viable way (for me) to reach a resolution.  I’m just a bit overwhelmed from being underwhelmed.

“I still consider myself to be my own best friend though, and there's no company I'd rather keep than my own. Aside from my immediate family, there are very few people I care to spend more than a few hours (tops) with. Parties and particularly long "hang-outs" leave me feeling stir-crazy and most of all, self conscious. I don't really like myself much around other people. After the initial charm of my niceties wears off, I feel awkward and annoying. I long to be alone, to be with myself. It's a bit odd, simultaneously loving and hating yourself like I do.
And so I retreat back into my world of loner-ism, and I perk up. I start to feel better about myself. I shed the feelings that others are judging me and I go shopping, I treat myself to lunch, I take a bath, I read, I paint, I watch a movie (no interruptions from the peanut gallery, thank you very much). I do the things I wouldn't want to do with anyone else, and I become a better person for it.” 

Me, almost to a T. I'm working my way through the woods and towards clarity, though.  

March 05, 2009

Bus Tale and Other Matters

So, I've literally been in bed since Monday evening. I'm sure waiting out in an unexpected, blizzard-like snowstorm for 20 mintues for a bus (before learning there was a 2 hour delay, and I didn't need to be to work until later)- helped aggravate matters, because as the day progressed, my throat got scratchier, my head throbbed more, my annoyance level was at a 20, and my sinuses pulsed and tingled. I hardly ever get sick, so when I do, I may as well be on the cusp of death because it's a feeling unlike any other. All-llll sinus and throat... mostly sinus. I can't think, I can't eat, I feel discombobulated... I just want to crawl into a hole a la like I'm Alice, and stay there until it's all over. It's a sick of epic proportions that makes me moan for my mom! Tired of lying underneath the covers reeking of Vicks Vaporub, I dragged my wrecked carcass out of bed to check email, light some incense sticks, and relay this lovely little Bus Tale that took place on the aforementioned Monday. Perhaps this exacerbated the illness that'd been percolating and weakened my body's defenses even further? I don't know ...
Monday, I headed back out into the horrible weather... properly bundled up, face covered with large shades, and perplexed by the onslaught of snow that hit the East after such cooperative weather! Thankful that I didn't have to wait long for the bus the second time around, it stopped in front of me and I boarded. A troglodyte sitting across from me with, ohhhh... saaay about 4 teeth (I didn't make eye contact with him for too long) looked me up and down lasciviously... "How's it going sistah" he said appreciatively. I mumbled something akin to a greeting, an attempt not to be rude, but a sure sign that I wasn't impressed and didn't want to engage him. He continued to stare, I made sure to keep my shaded eyes averted. "You are veery beautiful. Just the kinda sistah I like." he said in his bestest sexytimes voice. I shot him a disdainful look (hidden by my dark shades), jerked my shoulders in an indifferent shrug and turned away.

"I'm sure you're just as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside though..." he continued.

I didn't respond... well, okay, my mouth tightened into a sneer. The bus ride was quickly turning into the longest 5 or 10 minutes I'd ever had to endure. When my stop finally approached, I quickly pulled the lever and stood up before it came to a complete stop... anxious to get the eff off. Much to my chagrin, my yuck-mouthed admirer got off at the same stop... He continued on with his disgusting and unwelcome courtship...
"You alright sistah..." he continued. "Yup!" I yelled over my shoulder as I jumped over a high snow bank (in record time... unheard of!). "Oh, I figured you needed help over the snow bank or somethin'" he said as he looked on lecherously. "Nope!" I said quickly as I made a beeline across the street... away from him.
"Alright then!" he yelled after me. "I'm gonna dream about you tonight!!!" he threatened. I ran faster.
So now here I am... home in bed... sick and blowing demonic and unmentionable things from the depths of my sinuses ... Yup. It's definitely the troglodyte's fault!

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.

June 18, 2008

Please Beg My Pardon...

... I've had a fun past weekend on Cape Cod with my newly braced-up (she just got braces)- best friend Cat, and haven't had time to relay the sordid details. With various annoyances; irritating personalities, work related fatigue, agitation with my apartment search, wishy washy types, and the like- I'm literally drowning in a sea of foolishness. I'm none too worse for wear though. I'm fine but extremely tired. Dating and the opposite sex are a mere after-thought (if thought about at all) these days. Nothing but over-the-hill, married, middle aged men looking to play games and rap a wack verse anyway, to see if they still have it. Whatever it is. So I'm missing nada. I'm reveling in me, myself, and I. And oddly enough, I don't feel an ounce of remorse. Anyway, I'll be back in a minute. I'm exhausted and suffering from insomnia.

March 15, 2008

The Gods Must Be Crazy

Why must the universe remind me, once a month, for one long excruciating and uncomfortable week, that I'm a woman. More importantly, why must I suffer for that very reason???
I planned on waking up early, this fine Saturday morn, to attend a St. Patty's Day brunch (complete with mimosas) at my workplace, but the powers that be had other plans for me... and it involves throbbing delicates, bloat, sore lower back, and a cramping lower tummy. This is what my weekend will end up being like (see below)... hope yours is just as pleasant. Men you just don't wanna know. You've no idea at'all. That's it...

March 10, 2008

I'll Be Back...

... I am worked to the BONE. Literally. I'm tired, lethargic, and functioning on caffeine (not that it does a damn thing). Work is fast paced and busy-busy and to top it all off I've lost an hour's worth of sleep! That on top of apotment hunting.
I want to do stuff. I want to write stuff. I want to relay witty anecdotes here, oh do I have some witty ones stored away in my memory's bank. I want to go out and about during my downtime, but I can't bring myself to do so. I'm lazy. I've got stuff to share and I'm too lazy. I've got places to go, but once I retreat to the home front, my limbs turn wooden. I think about doing... but they don't move. I become a stone statue.
Spring is on the horizon and I sense slight lubrication in my winter-stiff joints. On a positive note, sleep isn't such an elusive idea anymore. For now anyway.
In any event, give me a few minutes or so. I'll be back... I just need to shake my lazy pelt off.
P.S. I stumbled upon some Absinthe, or Absente rather. ...

March 01, 2008

Children of The Corn

... by night, they plot our demise in a corn field. However, by day they refuse to cooperate, take naps, they make a huge mess, purposely dump their crisps and snacks all over the floor and grind them into the carpet, and now they refuse to party. I don't know if I trust children who scoff at birthday cakes, party hats, goody bags, and all around fun. This is the future. What do the disdainful and defiant looks mean for the rest of us? Only time will tell.

January 26, 2008

Personal Space Invasion Syndrome (PSIS)

I've been documenting the crazy on here since about 2004. I think regular readers (assuming people have been following this blog for that long)- probably are hip to the fact that I am a self-described neurotic with a smattering of germaphobia and a dollop of obssessive behavior (i.e. where I place items in my personal space matters, as I insist things be placed a certain way, and that they're neat and organized). And while this much I know is in fact true, my quirkiness has not prompted any need for prescriptions used to combat any anxiety or psychotic episodes. In summation, I'm a relatively normal person- (considering the levels of actual weirdness festering out there)- who is slightly askew. I pump a celebratory fist at my eccentricities and don't plan on changing any time soon. No one's infallible. And for those acting like they are... you all need to cut it out. The prologue aside, if there's one thing I cannot stand, it is when people (particularly those not close with or familiar to me) invade and tamper with my personal space and belongings without my permission. Close talkers (if I back up a couple of inches... please don't move forward to close the already small gap)- If you don't come in a wine glass, we aren't about to kiss, or about to engage in relations... there's no need for anybody to be 2 inches away from my mouth, beyond the standard (6 to 8 sq ft), conversational closeness. I think violating someone's space; adjusting and taking other people's things without asking is rude, discourteous, and disrespectful... particularly if you're the type of person who resents having your things tampered with and especially if it's within the context of a communal (i.e. work) environment, where the majority of the space is already shared, to begin with. It's almost as if certain people feel as if they're entitled to behave this way, or they have the right to impose their tastes by strongly suggesting a person should rearrange things to look a particular way other than how they choose have it set up. I mean, you listen and humor people afflicted with PSIS by saying, "Oh okay, that sounds nice. But I think I'll just leave it like this" and they're adamant about trespassing, like an uninvited guest who insinuates him/herself into your home, rearranges the furniture, and uses your toothbrush! You can see their sweaty fingers and palms wiggling with the desire to touch your stuff. To rearrange, to fix and fuck everything up... making you ready to sling some pimp slaps. These people, who like to stand shoulder to shoulder, toe-to-toe... so close that you feel a little of their spittle spray your face during conversation. Making you shudder with disgust, also prompting you to tap your foot uncomfortably, to swallow hard, and blink furiously to keep from going nuts. People, listen, regardless of how crazy this rant may seem, this type of bahavior is definitely a spatial DON'T. I think we've gotten too comfortable in this current cult of personality. Manners are a thing of the past. We live in a culture that divulges TMI about bowel movements, itchy delicates, and explicit sexploits (some great to listen to, some not so sexy), where people will grope, expose themselves or rub up against strangers, and where people think it's okay to invade... to bully their way into someone else's orbit, scattering forces messing up the alignment of your small planets. All it does is create tension, anger, and more neuroses to grapple with. How difficult is it to be respectful of other people's space and property? It's not. Some concepts are fundamental and implicit. So back the hell up and keep hulking figure and hands off of other people's sphere, unless invited. That's it.

December 23, 2007

@!*!!

I blog alot about trying to slay some of my personal demons... but I honestly feel like up against a real, literal one that has decided to use my nose, ears, and head as its own personal condo!
I'm still in the throes of this massive sinus/head cold I have! I'm no stranger to sinus issues. In fact, I may just have a deviated septum (deviated septum = Hollywood actresses' new excuse to get rhinoplasty. P.S. What the hell is a deviated septum??). Anyway, self-diagnoses aside, methinks this is the worst sinus cold I've had in a long time! My head, nose, and ears are on effing fire! It's very uncomfortable, I haven't slept in about two days, I've thrown every thing I've had at it! We're talking heavy artillery! I was making progress yesterday. Everything started to clear out. I was in good spirits (figuratively and beverage wise), I could breathe freely, and I was relieved. This early morning (we're talking 3AM) I woke up, feeling like someone had poured acid in my nostrils as I slept. Now I can't breathe or taste (VERY unfortunate), my eyes are running, my gums are sore, I can't stop sneezing, and I'm very discombobulated. I'm typing slowly in an effort to cut down on grammatical erros and to formulate intelligible sentences here. We're talking THAT discombobulated. In fact, I'm so out of touch with reality that I actually sat there and watched Danielle Steele's Star on the tele. The WHOLE movie! While inside, I asked myself "why?" over and over again.
Ugh. Yes, I'm a whinger when I'm ill only because I don't get colds very often! But seriously, this is some serious bidness. It's like the demon was being pushed out of my system and on the way to the exit (blown out on a Kleenex basically) it caught hold of some rung or ledge, and is holding on for dear life... sharp nails and all. I just drank some hot miso soup for breakfast and downed some mango nectar (which has vitamin C). My goal is to have this monster slain by or before Tuesday!

Wish me luck. Im gonna go lay down and do some more whining.

UPDATE: The horrible force that has me feeling like a steaming pile of dog dookey, is called Sinusitis. Oh joy! "Nose irrigation" with a saline solution is recommended. Mine isn't particularly acute, so I gots it covered. Just sprayed some saline up the ol' nostrils. And I must say, it offered a bit of a reprieve from the intense inflammation.