.trying to evolve.

beccamonkey @ 2012-09-28T18:32:00

2012-09-28T22:33:00Z

I feel the need to have a record of the events of today, September 28, 2012 (as my cooperating teacher would say, “the only September 28, 2012 that’s ever going to happen“). Nothing monumental or outwardly significant happened, at all. But it kept striking me as I went about the business of the day how representative these small events were of where I am in my life right now. It is a place that I enjoy being. It is a place that I have struggled fiercely to reach. And it is also a place in which, inherently, I cannot stay. This time of training to be a teacher, of working on my masters, is a transition. In a couple of years I will no longer be in this program at Brooklyn College. After I finish, I’m not sure where my career trajectory will take me. I may stay in New York, and I may not. And the personal evolution that is evident to me today, the emotional growth, is an ongoing process. Where I am right now is in no way where I expect to be in two years. But I want to remember this time, the people around me, our conversations, the scenery, my inner dialogue. And so, as a writer, this is how I document those things.

I had some trouble getting out of bed. I was tired. The shift to a 6:30 alarm has not been entirely easy, and I hit snooze twice. But then I got up, dressed, and forced down a piece of bread, since I’ve learned that no matter what, I must always eat something to awaken my metabolism for the day. Leaving the house every day to go to student teaching I feel none of the dread I used to feel daily going to work at Strand or Rosen. When I drag at all in the morning, it is entirely physical.

The short train commute was uneventful. On the corner of Prospect and 4th, I ran into the boy to whom I gave my number yesterday, who turned out to be 24 and who completely turned me off with his overzealous, banal text messages. He touched my arm and said hello, but, to his credit, seems to understand that from now on, saying hello will be the extent of our relationship. I have no interest in trying to force myself to interact with someone who bores me, especially in a romantic context. This may sound harsh, but in the end it is far kinder than dragging things out when I am well aware how they will end. Lately I am watching (mostly via Facebook) many of my friends finding love and getting engaged, and I am seeing in their pictures and gleaning from their words how happy they are. And I am feeling neither jealous of their happiness nor hopeless about finding love myself. I am feeling inspired, and I am taking notice of the fact that none of them look or sound bored or disappointed. None of them seem to be struggling with their choices. I know that Facebook sometimes masks the truth of situations. But regardless I am becoming acutely aware that the kind of happiness I see my friends finding does not come from settling or compromising. And I am willing to wait for it, I am willing to be accused of being scared of commitment, of being critical or judgmental or picky. One SHOULD be all of those things when it comes to choosing a partner. Giving up freedom and autonomy is a huge decision, and in many ways a sacrifice, and it shouldn’t be done for just anyone. The right person for me will make me feel exhilarated and peaceful, stimulated and comforted. I will find him unquestionably attractive. He will make me laugh until my abs ache. Conversations with him, whether in person or electronically, will flow easily and will make hours feel like minutes. He will be skilled with words. He will read for knowledge and pleasure. He will be emotionally aware, able to step back and reflect on his own feelings and reactions and help me to do the same with mine. He will be compassionate and generally calm and kind, but will have a vitriolic streak that is employed (usually only verbally) against deserving adversaries. He will have sarcasm down to an art form. He will have interests and artistic pursuits of some sort. He will love many different genres of music. He will be respectful of my boundaries and defenses, but not so threatened by them that he is scared away. I know that people like that exist. I have met them, and have had them in my life, some of them romantically. And it is absurd to try to force myself to date people with whom I know I could never have the type of relationship that I want. I just have to be patient, and to give chances only to the people that possibly could be right.

When I got to the corner of Prospect and 6th, it started pouring. I had no umbrella and a few blocks to go, so I ducked under the awning of a hardware store to choose between arriving late or arriving soaked. Then a man stepped out of the hardware store, handed me an umbrella, and said "Here, you can bring this back later." I thanked him, and arrived dry and on time. The vibe in the classroom on a rainy Friday was comforting. At the end of my third week of observing and helping, I am beginning to get to know these kids and some of their individual interests, quirks, strengths and weaknesses. All of this will be incredibly helpful to me as I begin my actual teaching in the next week or so. I am also developing a lot of respect and admiration for my cooperating teacher. I feel comfortable asking him questions and confident in his expertise, and I feel like we will work well together and really do some good for these kids.

On the way back to the train, I returned the umbrella. I went home, had coffee, changed out of my teaching clothes, and went into Manhattan to meet Nicole and Kirk for lunch. The business aspect of the meeting was that I needed to give Nicole my signed contracts for the book I just finished for Rosen, my second book for them. Since neither book has been published yet, the whole thing is still kind of surreal to me. I was paid for the first one already, but I think it will feel real only when I have a physical copy of the book. These things are certainly not literary masterpieces, but I am proud of them for what they are. I am thrilled to be making some significant money from writing, and to see my words professionally printed and bound will be pretty fantastic.

At lunch we discussed ancient Greece, the absurdly theoretical nature of modern money, global warming, and the predatory practices of for-profit colleges. I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation and felt grateful for friends who keep me both laughing and thinking. After lunch, I stood outside of Rosen talking with Nicole, and saw three of my former coworkers pass by. None of them spoke to me. I can’t be sure whether they saw or recognized me, but I’m pretty sure that they did. For several months after I was fired, I didn’t want to walk down that block. The thought of standing outside that building or seeing any of those people made me physically ill. But today, I stood there and felt completely detached. Had any of them made eye contact, I would have simply smiled and said hi. The fact that they didn’t was of no consequence to me. Being fired from that place turned out to be the best possible thing that could have happened to me, and being there no longer has any negative effect on me at all.

After Nicole went upstairs, I strolled down to 14th Street and went to Trader Joe’s. I associate that place with stress, because every time I used to go there it was after a work day at Strand, around 6:30 pm. I was always exhausted, and fighting through the aisles and lines felt like combat. Today, however, my shopping was pleasant and stress free. I savored the lack of time pressure and the fact that it wasn’t rush hour so my train ride home was nowhere near the hell I associate with riding home from Union Square.

Now I am home. I’ve written this entry, and will straighten up and make dinner soon. I will savor a couple of beers, get some reading done, and sleep soundly without having to set an alarm. Tomorrow night I get to see First Aid Kit live with Emily. I have the daytime tomorrow and Sunday to finish all my reading and prepare for next week. Soon I will start my teaching and get into the real meat of the semester. There will be challenges. It will be exhausting and maybe even discouraging at times, but I have no doubt that I will soldier through it and come out more confident and competent as a teacher and as an English scholar. I am blessed and grateful for where I am and where I am going.

beccamonkey @ 2011-08-16T15:38:00

2011-08-16T19:39:25Z

He is winning me over for real now, so quickly. I am terrified it will implode as soon as I start to trust it and settle into it, but I'm gonna do so anyway. This really might be something.

It takes courage to enjoy it...

2011-08-14T19:37:09Z

So I have a boyfriend. It's been a very, very long time since I uttered those words...the last person I called my boyfriend was Jack Young, back in 2006. And that lasted about a month. I am 31, and the longest official relationship I ever has was about 6 months long, and we only behaved as boyfriend and girlfriend for about a month of that. I am so so used to being by myself, doing for myself. I've had a lot of lovers...a lot of wonderful nights, a lot of dramatic scenes. But an actual relationship that does not implode within a few weeks, that is something foreign to me. Of course, this one may follow suit. We'll see. Right now he is swearing that he's not going anywhere, that I could be "that girl," that he's "not fucking this up for nothing." And honestly, I believe him. But he could change his mind at any time. And as for me...I'm having some issues. They are probably not insurmountable ones. And I've had them before, I can recognize what they are. But whether I can work through them, I'm not sure.

This whole thing happened insanely quickly. For the last two years I have been in an anti-relationship with Cliff. I was in love. Truly in love, according to what I know of love. He was always afraid. He withheld. He got scared away for months at a time whenever we started to really get close. And after two years, I got tired of it. I was willing to wait for him, if he had asked. But he couldn't even bring himself to do that, so I started to assume that I was waiting on a ship that had already sailed.

Back in May, I signed up for OK Cupid. I got a ton of messages. I corresponded with several guys, but with most of them, one or the other of us eventually stopped responding (usually me). One of them was David. He got my attention right away by telling me that a) his mom was from Detroit and he'd been there and thought it was a beautiful city and b) he had been told that he looked like Huey Freeman when his hair was fro'd out. Also we like a lot of the same hip hop. The thing with him was, his messages were always short and causal. Corresponding with him was not tedious. He did not ever say anything that annoyed me. I lost interest in OK Cupid after a couple weeks. During my time in Detroit, I had pretty much decided I wanted to wait longer for Clifford. I even let a couple of messages from David drop. But he would always write again. Nothing psycho, just "I haven't heard from you in awhile, how are you doing?" So, I returned to New York thinking that I might or might not want to meet up with him. I told myself that I'd let Cliff know I was back, and that if he asked me to hang out within the first couple days I was back I wouldn't meet David, but that if he didn't, I would. He didn't (I talked to Cliff about this a couple days ago, and he says that it must have been fate because he was going to ask me the first night I was back, but that he ended up having to stay with his mom). David and I made a date for Monday night.

On Monday, I did my normal vacillating. Went back and forth between being excited, wanting to cancel, and hoping he would cancel. But for whatever reason, I didn't cancel. I went to some trouble with my appearance, figuring that if anyone was going to be disappointed that night, I wanted to be the disappointee rather than the dissapointer, lol. I bought this black polka dot dress in Detroit that is probably the most flattering dress I've ever owned. I almost didn't wear it, thinking that I didn't want to give this my best, but I changed my mind at the last minute. I had told him to meet me at Grand Army Plaza in front of the library, so I walked up there to look for him, a short dude with dreds in a tan Nissan Maxima. When I walked up, he was waiting outside the car. He gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I think I knew I was in for something with that hug. It was an incredibly confident, strong, warm hug, of the kind that I'm not accustomed to getting from strangers. There was an openness in the hug that was never present in Cliff's hugs. I got in his car, which might have been stupid, but I felt comfortable with him right away. Plus, a date with a dude who has a car!

We drove to Red Hook and walked out to the dock behind the Fairway. The sun was setting. We just stood there and talked for about an hour. The conversation flowed really easily, and I could tell he was feeling me. I hadn't decided whether I was feeling him yet, but he wasn't annoying me and I wasn't anxious to go, which is more than I can say for most first dates I've been on. The sun was bright orange. The moon was beginning to come out. There were boats on the river. There was a breeze. I let him kiss me. And I could tell, right away, that something about him felt right.

Later we drove to the Williamsburg bridge. We walked partway across, and then stood, just kissing, talking, holding each other, looking out at the river and the city. It was amazing. We stayed there until 2am or so, and he drove me home.

The next morning I woke up, and was struck by the fact that I thought about David first, and Clifford second. He called me shortly after I woke up, and said that he wanted to come take me out again that night, and that he was going to call off of work. The last time a guy wanted to see me immediately the next day after our first date, I freaked out and never saw him again. But I found myself actually excited at the prospect of seeing Dave again. He came and picked me up, and we went to dinner, and then drove out to Long Beach and sat on the beach under the moonlight watching the waves, talking, kissing...at that moment, I seriously felt like I was falling in love. Leaning back in his arms watching the ocean I felt more at peace than I have in a very long time. After the beach closed at 11, we drove to Astoria Park. We spent the whole night in the park, sitting by the river, and in the car listening to old school R&B...I remember "If This World Were Mine" by Luther Vandross coming on, and "Ask Of You" by Raphael Saadiq...that night was euphoric. We both felt like teenagers. It was seriously amazing. He asked me to be his girlfriend that night. I told him I needed some time to think about it, and later came completely clean: I needed closure with Cliff. I needed to have a conversation. I had gotten a text from him that must have come right while Dave and I were on the beach. I was having a good enough time that night that I never responded, but still he was in my mind.

Dave took me to breakfast in the morning, and when I got home I responded to Cliff, telling him that I'd been on a date, that he he had asked me to be his girlfriend, and that I was probably gonna say yes. Cliff told me to go for it. Ironically, we talked more openly about our own relationship than ever before. It's almost like we both needed a buffer, needed it to be past tense, needed the pressure off, in order to be completely honest. I cried a lot (though we were texting so he didn't know). I told Cliff that my feelings for him were the thing that was holding me back from saying yes. At that point he told me to go for it, to give it my best shot, but that if it didn't work out and if he was still single and had worked through some stuff by the end of the winter, he would give things a shot with me. I was very satisfied with that arrangement, and honestly excited about exploring things with Dave while being honest with Cliff and not having that door completely closed.

I told Dave that I'd had the conversation and the we could go ahead and make things official. We did, and we've seen each other every day since then. We talk on the phone, too. He comes over when he says he's coming, calls when he says he's calling. I haven't been to his house yet, because I'm dogsitting, and then my sisters and brother-in-law (or not law, as the case may be) are coming to town. So he's had to come to me every day, and he has.

Cliff messaged me again a couple days after the first conversation. He told me he is probably gonna start dating this 19 year old. I swear it seems like he feels like he needs to get a girlfriend because I have a boyfriend (and, come to find out, so do the two girls he was with before me). Also, my competition is a 19 year old? She could almost be my daughter. I don't know. The second conversation revealed so many near misses between us, so many times where lack of communication is what screwed things up. He says that "trusting someone enough to date them is an experiment," and he's rather it be with someone new rather than someone he's been close to for so long. I guess I kind of know what he means. There is much less riding on things with Dave than there would be if Cliff and I had gotten together. Maybe it's best that since this might be my first real long term thing, there's less pressure on it. I don't know what Cliff and I are supposed to be to each other or what the future holds for us. But I guess if we're supposed to be in each others lives, we'll just figure it out, like Hans and I have.

So for now, there is Dave. And I'm glad he's here. He is affectionate, and funny. We are close in height, and we fit together perfectly. He has an incredible, tight, muscular little body, a head full of dreds, and the most beautiful eyes...his whole face is gorgeous. I look at him and honestly feel a thrill that he's mine. And he feels that way about me, and tells me over and over. He makes me laugh. We're already really comfortable with each other. And our physical chemistry is like nothing I've had with anybody before.

But something in me is holding back, feeling detached. The euphoria of those first three days has faded, and I feel like something shut down in me a little. I lay next to him amazed at him, but thinking of Cliff too...and I'm already afraid of losing my autonomy. I remember feeling like this with Jack. I freaked out at the girlfriend thing. I used his craziness as an excuse, but this feeling may have been just as responsible for my dumping him after two weeks as his craziness was. Then, of course, he worked to win me back, and it worked, and then he withheld. I don't want any of that bullshit this time. I don't want to fuck this up. I obviously like Dave a lot. He is the first person in three years other than Cliff that I've liked enough to let into my life. So I am just going to wait through this detached feeling and see if it goes away. We're not seeing each other today, and that might help. We may have OD'd on each other a little in the first week. But also there are some things that could be problematic. He is a fiscal conservative, which means that some of our values are pretty different. And he has had three beers in his whole life, and never smoked anything. I told him that I drink, and that I have smoked in the past, and he said its not a big deal, but he didn't seem thrilled by it either. I don't ever want to smoke a cigarette again, so that shouldn't be an issue. But I can't say I'll never smoke pot again. And I like my booze. I don't get drunk very often anymore, but I still worry that if he finds out how often I drink it will be a problem.

I have no idea what's going to happen. But I know that I don't want to repeat my same old patterns. When I told him how most of relationships end within a month, he said "let's try to make this one longer." So, that's the first goal I guess. If we make it past a month that'll be something new, and we'll go from there.

'I take it in stride; at least you were mine. If not for all time, enough to hold."

2011-06-22T23:08:56Z

Human relationships remain such a mystery to me; how we can be seemingly so close to one another, and then, suddenly, entirely separated (this is true of romance, sex, friendship). And how the separations, although they hurt like hell, reinforce our sense of self, of autonomy. When I love someone and lose them from my life, I eventually feel stronger, knowing that I had the courage to love, and loved as well as I could, and remain whole despite having lost them. Sometimes I get angry, too, which in itself is empowering. More than anything else I feel the strength of my core, and feel extremely grateful and proud that I have such a strong self to retreat to.

I don't want to be saying any of this, you understand. I don't want to look at this for what it is, and I especially don't want to look back on the last two years for what they've been, don't want to admit that I've spent them shading my eyes and marveling over fools' gold. But then, as a kid, I knew exactly what fools' gold was and loved it anyway. Maybe that's what this was, too: an illusion/delusion I made the decision to love.

Either way, I'm fine. Honestly I feel more at peace with myself than ever.

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.

2011-05-13T03:58:30Z

Hello, Livejournal. It's been a long time and I doubt very many people are still out there. But since I am currently unemployed, with a wealth of time and a brain that is constantly moving, I'm thinking a return to this outlet could be a good thing.

Yep, I was fired. And the worst part is that it wasn't (on the surface, anyway) even for anything cool. Just sheer incompetence at the job. In February, I left The Strand for a data entry position at a small publishing house. To be honest, I felt weird about the whole thing from the start. My instinct after the interview was to not take the position if it was offered. But, as always, I did a lot of second guessing of my own motivations, and wondered if I was just scared of change. And I wanted out of The Strand, badly. Needed out. So, when they called to offer me the position, I took it. From day one, I got a strange vibe from the office environment there. There were positive things, sure. Like the fact that I got off work at 5pm instead of 6:15, and that I made noticeably more money. Also, initially, the fact that I didn't have to interact with any customers was a welcome change. But right away I knew that the work itself would be a problem. It's not that it was hard, exactly. In fact part of the problem was how mindless it was. Just line after line after line of ISBNs to enter, which, for a brain like mine, is dangerous. There was nothing to keep my brain engaged, which left all kinds of room for zoning out and making mistakes. At first, I didn't realize this, and so I was lax about double checking my work. But after being made aware of initial mistakes, I started double checking religiously. Apparently this, too, was insufficient; I was informed when I was fired that I was continuing to miss line items or enter them incorrectly, although no concrete evidence was provided. The other problem was that I was given several different types of orders to enter, all with their own sets of rules that had to be entered manually each time. I won't bore you with an explanation of their system, but it is DOS based and not at all "user-friendly." Basically, combine an at least mildly ADD brain like mine with pressure to work quickly and a set of rules that makes no sense, and you get disaster.

Then, the vibe in the office was just terrible. The same bullshit politics as The Strand, but in a smaller, more contained space, with less people. My manager, for whatever reason, clearly did not like me. Maybe because, when she pointed out mistakes, I defended myself. Maybe because I am cute and generally happy and engaging while she is abrasive, bitter, and looks like a meth addict. Or maybe I look like someone who wronged her in the past, who knows. All I know is, I was targeted. My "supervisor," the 24 year old boy who has been in order entry the longest, was at least 15 minutes late every day and never reprimanded. Yet I was called to task for lateness even though I got there before him every day. And when I made a concerted effort to be on time, the bitch (manager) found other reasons to criticize me. The moment when I was fired was surreal, but thank God I had the presence of mind to stand up for myself. There were tears, which I'm not proud of, but I made it clear that I felt I had been treated unfairly, trained improperly, and given too large of a workload. Then I gathered my stuff and left.

When I walked out I was in shock, and I stayed that way for several days. I am accustomed to rolling with the punches and being strong and unaffected, so I went with that. There was and is very real relief at not having to ever set foot in that God forsaken place again. And there was and is very real excitement at the prospect of having a few months to take stock and figure shit out. But the whole weekend after I was fired, and Monday as well, I refused to sit still and think about it. Then, Monday night, when I finally sat down alone and began to process, it hit me. I was fired from what seemed like the simplest job in the world. I was fired from the job that was supposed to be my gateway to better things. I was fired, period. No matter how you spin it, being fired sucks. I can't put this job on my resume, which is half the reason I took it in the first place; I though it would look better there than a retail job. I do not deal well with failure or rejection. In fact I deal terribly with them. So on Monday night, realizing that I had been rejected and had, in a sense, failed, I began to go a little bit crazy.

On Tuesday, I picked a couple of arguments over Facebook and text message. In hindsight I was very clearly lashing out against people close to me whom I trust; a juvenile and predictable pattern of behavior, and I hate to be juvenile or predictable. There was a sense in which I was just trying to tear my whole world apart. A bit of "alright universe, fuck you, if you're going to attempt to destroy things I will destroy them first, before you have a chance!" An attempt to swallow the pill I thought was coming whole. or rip off the band aid, or whatever metaphor you prefer.I spent two days dozing and watching That 70's Show on Instant Netflix. I'd get up and make a half assed attempt to do something; go to the kitchen for a glass of water, go pee...the effort of such things exhausted me, and I would get back in bed after five minutes. Both evenings I had engagements. Tuesday I met Nicole at the gym. Afterwards I met Hans, and with him I drank two whiskeys on the rocks, after having not had straight whiskey in a couple of years at least. Then I (through text message) pinned the boy I've been sleeping with against a wall, demanding answers he's already given or explained that he can't give. I cried on the train while listening to The Roots, not caring if anyone saw. The next day In returned to my dozing/That 70's Show watching, having crying jags every hour or so, knowing the whole time how ridiculous everything was. I refused to do laundry both days. I refused to eat a balanced meal, or much solid food at all. As breakdowns go it was pretty mild, but definitely the closest I've come to one in a long, long time.

Wednesday afternoon I started to return to normalcy. The whiskey was wearing off, and I had to go to choir practice at 7:30, so I knew I had to get myself together a bit. I sent an apology to the boy. I put some clothes on. I dragged myself to choir, which was an immense help. During choir, the boy responded, accepting the apology (though I'm not sure where we stand). Afterward I went and had a beer with a choir friend at her apartment, and a good talk. Then I came home and had some quality time with Will (my roommate and close friend). I slept well, and woke up better.

Today I finally did the laundry. I got letters from the unemployment office and food stamps office, so things are in motion in those areas. I did dishes, changed the cat litter. Started putting things back together.

I have no idea where things are going from here. I have vague ideas. Calling Brooklyn College to find out what the hell went wrong with the application I submitted months ago (they lost some documents and I dropped the ball). Spending a few weeks in Detroit with my fam. Taking a road trip with Emily. Looking for another job, but not one in retail or any other for-profit environment.

I feel traumatized but optimistic. Empty and hollowed out, but clean, and hopeful. It will be interesting to see what happens.

beccamonkey @ 2010-09-29T13:59:00

2010-09-29T17:59:26Z

So this might sound crazy, but I've just had a somewhat mystical experience, or at least transcendent. It will take a bit to explain, so bear with me.

Yesterday there was all kinds of stuff going on inside me, manifesting itself mostly as anger. I was fucking PISSED yesterday, at everything and everyone. My job, myself, the universe, the city, the subway, everyone on the subway. I felt trapped, which is not an uncommon feeling for me, but usually it is not that intense. I was like some kind of animal gnawing at the bars of its cage yesterday. I couldn't handle anything about my life, at all.

So I got through the day somehow, and made it home, and made some food, and took some Tylenol PM for the tooth pain and random aches and just to knock me out. And I started drifting in an out of sleep and stuff, and I was watching the episode of My So Called Life where Angela meets Rayanne's mom and gets her tarot read and then Rayanne ODs and Angela's mom comes to take her to the ER. And then, I got up to take my dishes in the kitchen. And on the floor was the BIGGEST FUCKING ARTHROPOD I HAVE EVER SEEN. I thought it was a centipede at first because it was too long (I thought) to be an American cockroach. It crawled a little, and the cat watched it but did nothing. I decided that must be a roach because it was too solid-looking to be a centipede, and then I thought that maybe it was two roaches but like, one had halfway eaten the other one and was dragging it along, but I could not bring myself to look close enough to be sure. At some point it flipped over on its back, so I think it was just one animal, whatever it was. At that point I couldn't deal with it anymore and left the room. I watched Detroit 1-8-7 and went to sleep for good. This morning, it was gone. So, either the cat got it or one of the roommates killed it or it left on its own.

But then, today. Today I got to work feeling more normal. And then I read a bunch of old Livejournal entries from 2004 (in between doing work of course, heh). And gradually I started feeling a lot more okay...and then suddenly I felt REALLY okay. Like that quiet, peaceful okay that is at your core, not just the temporary staving-off-the-misery okay. I feel, currently, a sense of peace and well being that I have not felt in some number of years. I can't really describe it in flowery or dramatic language, because it isn't flowery or dramatic. It is just there...like something was missing and suddenly got put back, and things make sense. And I went downstairs to look for a book and I wasn't angry at the customers for existing, and then this lady asked me a couple of questions and I answered her and she thanked me and touched my arm in this warm, familiar way, and I shit you not that I got tears in my eyes walking back upstairs. I feel like some kind of incredible housecleaning has happened in my head, and in my soul.

And for some reason my thoughts came back to the bug. I mentioned it to Nicole, that I was thinking it was maybe some kind of messenger, a mythological creature of some kind. (I was thinking for some reason of the mongoose in The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, actually.) And Nicole pointed out how roaches eat garbage, feed off of our waste; they destroy refuse, in a sense. So the symbolism works perfectly. As terrified as I was of that thing, it meant no harm. It was there to clean shit away, to tell me things are going to be better. And in that case, I am glad I didn't kill it. I almost don't want to find out if one of the other roommates killed it, because that will screw with my symbolism a little, and I don't want to think of it as just a nasty ass roach :-).

Either way, I feel incredible right now. And it's NICE.

beccamonkey @ 2010-07-21T13:30:00

2010-07-21T17:30:46Z

Sometimes I wonder if I am putting myself on a fast road to a lonely rest of my life. I used to like people, a lot. I used to be pretty damn social. I used to get crushes on people all the time. I used to make friends easily, and keep them around for a good while. But lately, I have the hardest time doing any of that. I rarely meet new people that I like enough to hang out with.

I have been on a few dates in the past couple of years, and have usually left with an intense feeling of relief to be out of the situation, and made sure to never see the person again. Yes, I fell in love with someone and he is still in my life and I suppose that possibility isn't dead. But it also isn't looking very promising, and I know that I need to be able to let other people in. But I just refuse to go against my gut. When my gut tells me that I want to never see a person again, I think I should listen to it. But I also know that I am irrationally picky.

I am irrationally picky even with friends. I keep most everyone at arms length. I'm still close to some people I got close to before I was like this. And I have made a few new friends in recent years. But I always find these fundamental things on which I disagree with people, and more and more I can't bring myself to overlook them.

In some ways, this is good. I truly enjoy most of the time I spend with people, because I only spend it with people I like, and I know my tolerance for people, I know when I need to be alone, etc.

But still, I wonder. I wonder if I am progressing along a road that is pathological, or if I am just doing what is right for me. I just don't want to end up one of those weird old lonely women who doesn't know how to relate to anybody.

All of this makes me wonder how much longer I should stay in New York, because I don't generally feel like this elsewhere. Hm.

beccamonkey @ 2010-07-01T10:12:00

2010-07-01T14:12:39Z

Last night I had a dream that I got fired from the Strand through a text message. I remember vividly the exhilarating sense of freedom I had in the dream. My immediate plan was to file for unemployment and get a part time job. My brain even dreamed up unemployment forms.

And then I kept dreaming that I was waking up and wondering if it had been a dream. So by the time I actually DID wake up, for about twenty seconds I wondered if I had to go to work or not.

But then I did, and here I am. Ugh.

I don't know what's up with all this livejournal posting lately, but I'm just gonna go with it.

beccamonkey @ 2010-06-30T13:58:00

2010-06-30T17:58:13Z

There is so much dust being kicked up right now, in all kinds of ways. Suddenly I am completely disoriented. It's disconcerting, but I have to remember that historically, I like change. Periods of change are ones that I look back on in a positive light. Times when things are flying every which way are the times that push life forward, and when the dust settles my world is usually better for it.

Last night was full of conversations. Oddly, I received a sense of closure to a wound that I had accepted would never heal. Then I had a very obviously symbolic dream that cemented the feeling. It was an unexpected and very welcome surprise.

Last night I also found out that my dad had a mole removed and it turned out to be melanoma. According to my mom, there's a good chance that it hasn't spread, but he has to go in for tests to find out. If it has, this will be the second time in two years that he's had some type of cancer. I am trying to think positively, that the mole will be the end of it, but who knows.

I told The Boy and he said things that fit right into my heart, right where I needed them, as he usually does.

I will be seeing him (The Boy) on Saturday.

I will be seeing The Girl on Friday.

Shit's gettin' real, y'all.

beccamonkey @ 2010-06-28T11:21:00

2010-06-28T15:21:16Z

I haven’t posted on livejournal in forever, obviously, but I am currently facing the exact sort of adolescent quandary that lends itself to expression through this venue.

I’ve been loosely involved with this boy for about a year. Friends with benefits basically, although it isn’t that simple. And there is a part of me that has been very much okay with that. Everything in my life is up in the air right now, as is everything in his life. I am not interested in making false promises or having false promises made to me. Caution is a wonderful thing, a necessary thing. He has been careful with my feelings and with our friendship in a way that several other people in my past were not, and I am extremely grateful for that. He treats me with more caution and respect than I am used to, more than I am able to demand, and his presence in my life has completely raised the bar. Because of him I will never again put up with the things I used to settle for.

But on the other hand, I am settling in a way. Because although the practical side of me understands exactly where he’s coming from and why he cannot handle anything serious right now, there is a huge part of me that doesn’t understand, and that wants an official relationship no matter what the risks. And then there’s the objective part of me that knows damn well that if someone else were in this situation, I would probably tell them that despite all of the baroque explanations, the bottom line is that they are allowing themselves to be kept on the hook.

So far, I haven’t really had to confront it. I haven’t really liked anyone else in the past year, and the only people who have approached me have done so in a sleazy manner that I used to respond to, but that now (because of him, mainly), completely turns me off and offends me. The few who have approached me in a respectful manner I have just been completely disinterested in. So it’s been very easy to just keep going along with things with him.

But then, last night, I went out with some friends for Pride. I went intending just to dance and have a good time. I honestly had no expectations for the night at all. Then, as soon as we showed up, a friend introduced us to her coworker, who I was immediately attracted to. She was exactly my type of woman; casual femme, bohemian look, longish dreds, curvaceous. We started talking and did not stop the entire night. We both grew up in the inner city but had parents who made sure we were exposed to other things. She’s spent a lot of time in places where she was the token black girl, as I have spent a large portion of time being the token white girl. She loves Audre Lorde and Zora and early Toni Morrison, loves Chris Rock, loves Tori, Ani, Indigo Girls, Tracy Chapman, Missy Elliot. She made it clear all night that I am exactly her type…at the end of the night we danced and exchanged numbers and she told me to call her.

And now I have no idea what to do. I’m not exclusively involved with anyone, I know that. I know that I have no responsibility and don’t owe the boy anything. And I like this girl. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her. Not only that, but I feel like the universe is calling me out a little bit. I have been able to find excuses to dismiss everyone else who has approached me since starting things up with the boy. But I really have no excuse with this girl.
Except that I’m in love with somebody else. And the last thing on earth I want to do is to be the flaky bi girl who gets involved with a woman and then runs back to the man. But maybe that in itself is just an excuse. I have no idea what she’s looking for. I should probably just call her and see what happens.

And I also don’t want to be put in a position where I have to give the boy an ultimatum. Although, on the other hand, it’s been a goddamn year. It’s probably time for an ultimatum.

And then, maybe she was just drunk and won’t return my call, lol, who knows. The fucked up thing is that I would probably feel relieved if that were the case, because then I wouldn’t have to make any decisions. I am just terrified that when it comes to this sort of thing, I am doomed to always make the wrong decision.

It’ll be interesting to see what happens.

beccamonkey @ 2010-04-08T13:20:00

2010-04-08T17:20:35Z

So I'm starting late, but I'm going to try to do the National Poetry Month thing. I probably won't manage a poem a day, but even one or two a week will be good exercise. Most of them will suck, but perhaps if I wrote more, the stuff I write would suck less, heh. And once they're here, I can edit them later.

It’s a little bit like trying to decide
Whether or not to euthanize your cat.
You keep remembering gestures too tender
To voluntarily kill: a hand reaching
For your cheek, a little body purring
In your lap. There's something in the heart
that cannot stomach death of any kind,
that clings to moments, pushes time away,
and blindly nestles down, cancer be damned,
into the warmth of hope. It knows the dark
will come, but wants to linger in the dusk.

Before those human voices make us drown,
Just sit with me, and watch the sun go down.

beccamonkey @ 2010-03-25T13:34:00

2010-03-25T17:34:38Z

Your kindness rattles my foundation,
shakes apart the sediment of loneliness.
Things that have lived between the rocks,
not even reaching for the light,
begin to unball their fists now.
As you drum your fingers on my thigh, they begin
to yawn and knead inside my chest like kittens.
I believe this is necessary, like prayer,
Not for the answer, which may or may not
come, but for the birthing of hope inside me,
alive now with your breath, echoing
like a choir in an empty cathedral,
stretching and unfolding in the sunlight
that shines through stained glass.

obviously revolutionary

2010-03-16T15:25:57Z

so I just deleted someone from my facebook for the first time, a high school acquaintance.
He posted a status update that, paraphrased, said something like "people who lack a frame of reference can't tell whether they are saying an obvious thing, a stupid thing, or a revolutionary thing."
I commented with "but it's amazing how often the obvious and the revolutionary overlap..."
He responds something like "There's always the possibility of spouting bullshit too, that's also there."

First of all, fuck you and the bougie, overly-educated horse you rode in on, asshole.

Secondly, if you thought for half a second, you would see what I mean.
For instance, I think that most good liberal democrats (with whom this dude identifies himself) would agree that it is "obvious" that all humans have a right to daily sustenance.
Guess what- that's also revolutionary. It is possible, but would require a complete overhaul of most if not all of our current systems. Speaking the idea may be "obvious," but putting it into practice would be revolutionary.

but, clearly you wouldn't want to ask me what I meant if you were confused. clearly saying something rude, conventionally "witty," and downright mean makes you much cooler than me, so yeah, go right ahead with that.

being the bigger person, I simply delete him and engage in my own passive aggressiveness by posting a livejournal entry about it. HA.

2009 in review...

2009-12-31T17:57:44Z

1. What did you do in 2009 that you'd never done before?

learned to love running, and began to actually build up some stamina for it, though I have a long way to go.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I don’t think I made any last year. This year I resolve to leave the Strand before the end of the year and also to file for bankruptcy.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

Yes, Drena gave birth to Uri! I feel like there were lots of other babies born this year, too.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Michael Jackson. He was close to all of us.

5. What countries did you visit?

I stayed my butt in the U.S. this year.

6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?

A job that I like, and stable finances. Also a computer would be nice.

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

I don’t really know…labor day weekend was nice, I guess I’ll go with that..

9. What was your biggest failure?

Um…I guess not keeping up with bills, but I really did try my hardest so I don’t see it as failure. Also I didn’t get into the Teaching Fellows, but I’m over that; totally not a failure on my part.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

I hurt my ankle in a fall when my fellow 4 train passengers and I thought the subway was about to blow up and bolted through the Wall Street station. Then I insisted on walking 15 blocks to work on it. Bad idea.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My brown boots. But my mom bought those for me…so maybe my bright pink raincoat.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?

oh man, a lot of people’s. missy particularly impressed me a lot this year.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Those damn teabaggers!

14. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, student loan payments, food.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

I try to temper my excitement about most things, lol. I always get excited about seeing family, though.

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
“colors” by Portugal. The man

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? happier
ii. thinner or fatter? thinner
iii. richer or poorer? I just stay poor.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
writing, seeing friends

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
fretting over things that are beyond my control.

20. How will you be spending new year's?
I may go to emily’s mom’s for dinner…I may be home before midnight…new years day will definitely be spent doing some cleaning.

22. Did you fall in love in 2009?
well, I kind of reconfigured my entire notion of love in 2009. I read two of the books in bell hooks’ trilogy on love, and she reinforced and voiced a lot of ideas that I have had about love, but that were floating around in my mind as vague concepts. I don’t think that you fall into love. You fall into infatuation. And yes, I definitely did that. Love is a decision, not something that happens to you without your control. That said, I did come to love someone this year. But since there is not a committed relationship at this point, I would not say that I’m “in love.” I think “in love” implies an active decision on the part of both people involved.
23. How many one-night stands?
not a one, thank you!

24. What was your favorite TV program?
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and How I Met Your Mother.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
I don't hate anyone.

26. What was the best book you read?

Communion and All About Love by bell hooks, Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston (which I had read before, but read much more closely this year).

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I really came to like Portugal. The man a lot.

28. What did you want and get?
well, I sort of got it…

29. What did you want and not get?
and I also sort of didn’t get it.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Precious. Hands down.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 29. Laura, Miss and Shawna came to town! They flew in that morning, we walked around my hood and then had dinner at BBQ, and then hung out at Grassroots with several of my friends and co-workers. Also, Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett died on my birthday .

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
honestly I’m pretty okay with this year. I’d like to have financial stability, but I don’t think that will happen any time soon, so why worry about it? And the other thing that I wanted and kind of didn’t get…well, I understand why I didn’t get it, and if I had gotten it it would probably have ended up being bad for both of us at this point in our lives.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Punky Brewster grows up?

34. What kept you sane?
my friends, my family, phone calls with X’andra, text messages with Cliff, good food, keeping my room clean and my laundry done.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I don’t tend to fancy celebrities.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The sheer ridiculousness of the mess that this country’s (and world’s) system has become, and the ways that it disproportionately affects people based on race and class. So yeah, that’s not really one issue. It’s kind of everything.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
This year was more about growing closer to people I already knew than about meeting new people. Although I did meet some cool new people.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned this year.
That loving someone sometimes means accepting what they cannot give you, and accepting that without anger and without taking it as a slight.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
“and when the night is cloudy, there is still a light that shines on me, shine until tomorrow, let it be.”

with no lovin in our souls and no money in our coats, you can't say we're satisfied...

2009-11-17T18:20:34Z

So, the latest chapter in the ongoing saga of my financial cesspool :

I can see that things are going to balance out as far as my current monthly expenses go. I’m in a tiny hole right now, but it’s tiny, and I should be able to crawl out of it by December. I’m doing pretty damn well with cutting back on unnecessary expenses, and realizing again how much better I feel when I eat simple, home cooked food rather than wasting money on take out that is basically shit anyway. I made the last $335 student loan payment, so I’ll have a bit more breathing room in the coming months I think.

Last night, however, I met with a financial counselor at Greenpath Debt Solutions regarding my other debt- the credit cards, that blasted iMac that died three months ago, and a few other random things that I don’t even recall what they are. Looking at one’s credit report after ignoring these things for six years is a very sobering experience. This debt totals a little over $16,000. Even more sobering was the news that in order to make the minimum payments I would have to make to be approved for a Debt Management Program (which, in reality, would probably end up being higher than the minimum) I would need to increase my income by AT LEAST $500 a month. And that’s just to make the payments; that would not involve saving anything, at all. Also coming into play is the fact that all of my debts have been charged off by the original creditors and are now with collection agencies, who sometimes won’t even work with a Debt Management Program. Also, you are only allowed 48 months of Debt Management in your lifetime, and since I was already with a different Debt Solutions organization for at least a year, I would be shit out of luck after the remaining months run out, and would have to deal with the companies on my own again. And let’s say I lost my job and missed a payment or two, which is what happened the last time I was in one of those programs- the balances would go right back up to what they were before, and I would have thrown all of that money into the ether, basically.

So, writing off the possibility of a DMP, I am left with three options: to deal with each debt on an individual basis, to do nothing, or to file for bankruptcy. Doing nothing, while risky, apparently ends up being a viable option sometimes for those of us who are basically destitute. If I have no assets, then there is nothing for a collection agency to seize in a case against me. However, they could garnish my wages or freeze my bank account. They’d have to catch me first, and if they don’t catch me before the seven year mark, the debts are gone from my credit report as though they never existed. Since my debts are all small when looked at individually (all less than $6,000), it is possible that a lot of them wouldn’t ever be legally pursued. But if they ARE, even two or three of them, it could be disastrous.

Dealing with the debts on an individual basis would mean contacting each agency. Once I reestablish contact with them, the debt remains on my credit report for seven years from that date of contact. So I’m pretty damn sure I’m not doing that, especially when the call would go something like “Hi, I have no money to give you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here.” Yeah, not happening.

Looking at all of this, Chapter 7 is looking pretty damn good to me. The only con (which, granted, is a big one) is that it stays on my credit report for ten years. Yes, that sounds dire. But a) I am not fuckin’ around when I say that I would prefer not to ever have a credit card again, b) I’m looking at at least six or seven years of atrocious credit regardless of whether or not I file and b) realistically, I’m probably not going to be able to afford to finance a house or a car in the next ten years anyway. And if the next ten years go by as fast as the last ten have, hell, it’s not that long.

There is the question of the fees involved with filing, but they are so small compared with what I owe, and my parents have said that they would help me if it turned out that bankruptcy was the best option.

I have to mull on this for a little while. The financial counselor is going to call me to follow up in a week, which I’m looking forward to in a silly way because he was cute and we were kind of vibin', hehehe. But I'm not really serious about that, since a) he knows exactly how much of a financial albatross I am and b) things with that other boy definitely don't seem to be finished at this point...but it's good to keep my eyes open.

that's where I need to go.

2009-11-05T15:41:12Z

and then perhaps I pulled out that triage kit too soon, heh. I guess not everything winds up exactly the same all the time.

it's been a long time since I've found a new relationship (friendship, romantic, or with blurry lines, like this one is) where conflict did not mean the end of things, but where it allowed them to move forward to a more honest and open place. where love ends up trumping pride, and instead of avoidance there are genuine apologies and explanations. and forgiveness, which is one of my favorite things in the world. these things characterize all of the relationships that I value most in the world, and in order for this relationship to reach that level, there had to be some kind of conflict eventually. having gone through a conflict and resolved it is the only way I can really trust someone. maybe that's screwed up, but it is what it is.

I have no idea what is going to happen, but I trust that I'm not going to get fucked over. and we're both determined not to let this turn into something ugly, which may mean keeping some distance for awhile. and I'm okay with that. I've got plenty to do and plenty of ways to occupy my time, and I don't feel the need to cling unhealthily to him or to run out and find anyone else. and I guess that's the best possible place to be with this right now, so we'll just see what happens.

I don't know where it all began...

2009-11-04T20:06:23Z

It’s amazing what a circuitous route something can take to wind up exactly where you knew it would, exactly where everything always ends up. And then of course you wonder whether it would have been better to have left well enough alone. And then, if you are me, or a hopeless idealist like me, you start telling yourself that things went the way they were supposed to, and you dust off your broken heart triage kit because at this point you are an old pro. You remember all the song lyrics that have shored you up over and over again, you take comfort in your own records of past experiences, you let the tears come when no one’s looking, and you know you’ll be alright. “We’re better off for all that we let in,” and all that.

Once again I placed someone in a place of importance in my heart that they had neither asked for nor really earned. I could have foreseen this. And in fact, I did. I just chose to ignore the red flags. Because there were good signs, too, and I chose to focus on those. I realize that it was my choice, and that I didn’t protect my heart. And I’m not really upset with myself for that. I don’t think I will ever be a person to use caution when I see real possibility. I can handle the pain that comes afterward. What I do regret, though, is that I hurt him, or at least made him angry, but not being completely forthright about my intentions. I played everything much cooler than I really felt about it, until I couldn’t anymore.

At this point it seems like everything’s been said, and I just need to brush my shoulder off and keep it moving. Which I will. But I think I’ll linger here for a few more days. There’s something about having your emotions this close to the surface that allows you to feel everything more deeply, the good things too. It’s nice, in a way.

beccamonkey @ 2009-10-27T13:44:00

2009-10-27T17:50:38Z

I never share poems online anymore, but this one grew out of a typo in a recent lj entry, so I feel like posting it. also, since I have no computer at home anymore, it wouldn't hurt to have it saved here. there's no title yet, I'm terrible at titles.

Like a prism of oil in a puddle under a car after a storm,
Love reminds us of the impossible passing beauty
Of this world, like the nights in autumn when a streetlight dapples
A city sidewalk through a tree. It’s the same reason my heart
Breaks when I notice how tiny my niece’s hands are, breaks
A little each time I hear her laugh. Her hands will grow,
And she will not stay laughing. Leaves fall in November,
Streetlights are dark by sunrise, oil slips down a drainpipe.

Not a single one of us can promise forever, but in these bodies
We bury our love inside each other; we try to keep it safe from death.
We forage within each other, blind and starving, never
Giving or getting as much as we search for, never understanding
That none of us will ever have enough love to hold onto this world.

But what if we could learn to love within our means here,
As garlic and onions simmer on a stove,
As bodies are warmed and fed with rice and beans?
What if we left forever for death to deal with, and knuckled down
To reaping this modest, evanescent harvest?
Could we be candles and firewood and salt pork for one another?
Could we become the prism and the streetlight and the child?
Could we teach each other to let our hearts break open,
To let in the garlic, the laughter, the oil, the music, the light,
Until eternity takes us and all these seasons change?

beccamonkey @ 2009-10-26T11:18:00

2009-10-26T15:20:25Z

The other night, I had a dream that I was being chased by some strange, ferocious (possibly rabid) cross breed between a squirrel and a rabbit, called a "squabbit." It is in moments like these that I am especially proud of my own psyche.

there's a hole in the bucket...

2009-10-20T16:01:44Z

Listen, I am about to be broke. Broke as a muthafuckin joke. I’m talkin’ rice and beans, peanut butter & jelly, cashin’ in the change jar broke. Which I guess isn’t really that broke, because at least I can afford rice and beans and peanut butter & jelly and there are lots of people who can’t. But right now, I am realizing that I will have to budget down to the dime next week to afford to do laundry. And it’s going to be like this for awhile. I got approved for a “lowering” of my monthly student loan payments. This lowering takes the payment down to $240 (which is still going to gouge me), but it does not start until November, so I have to pay $335 at the end of October. Then there’s rent, and then there’s the phone bill, and my gym membership, and electricity, and Metrocards. So that means goodbye to buying clothes, goodbye to buying lunch out, can’t afford to go to the dentist like I planned, can’t afford to go to the gyno like I planned, and it will still be an effing miracle if I don’t fall behind in anything. Then, it might get a little better by the end of November. Maybe. But I still will not be able to save anything. And my credit card debt remains, a mountain that I have yet to begin to climb.

I liked not having my bank account completely drained every week. It was nice. It was nice to be able to afford luxury items now and then. I know how to live extremely simply, though, and I do believe it will be good for me to be forced to do it. I will do it. I want to do it, if it means that I will be making progress. I just don’t want to find myself in the exact same position at 40 that I will be in at 30.

And it’s so much harder in New York. In Michigan, there wasn’t so much STUFF flying in my face all day long. It was possible to get from work to home and vice versa without THINGS flying in my face asking me to buy them. I didn’t HAVE to stop at the bodega on the way home because there was no bodega. There were gas stations and 7-11s and liquor stores, but those were different because going to them generally involved walking several blocks or parking the car and getting out of it or what have you. There was not a place to get coffee on every block. And when I went grocery shopping I bought in bulk and put the bags in the car, rather than taking trips to the grocery store every two or three days.

BLAH BLAH BLAH. That’s not my reality anymore, and I need to live within the reality that I’ve created for myself. Right now I have a job and an apartment and (somewhat) reliable transportation here, which I do not have in Michigan. So this is where I am, and I need to learn to love within my means here. I suppose if I had been doing that all along, I would have saved some money and I wouldn’t be so broke right now. So, it ends here. My frivolousness ends. I buy only what is necessary to my health and sanity. We’ll see how that goes.

some things.

2009-09-24T17:53:23Z

1) this morning I woke up at 6:30 a.m., and was fully conscious and aware of the fact that my morning would be leisurely and pleasant if I got in the shower right then and stayed up. however, because I was still tired, I went back to sleep for another hour and a half, and left in a rush. I would really love to know how I could get myself to break that habit.

2) I am continuing, to the best of my ability, to stay on top of my finances. however, it seems that the more I do, the more problems present themselves, especially considering that I live in a communal situation and my finances are tied up with those of others, who also have their own financial problems. every few months, it seems, things reach the point of crisis. and I get through it, I scrape together the funds I need somehow. but it's frustrating. each time I think I've hit a stride, there is some sort of catastrophe. I guess this is just how everyone lives, except for rich people. but it's discouraging to think that I'll have to do this juggling act for the rest of my life. I'm coming to terms with it, though.

3) in the course of talking about money, casey and I discussed how, in many ways, it is a lot more expensive to be a woman than it is to be a man. and she suggested that tampons and pads should be provided by the government. and that in protest of the fact that they aren't, we should all just quit wearing them at all and see how everyone likes that. which is a hilarious idea. but it's interesting, I never thought about how we just blindly spend all that money every month on feminine products and accept it as a fact of life. I know there are reusable alternatives out there, which kind of gross me out in theory, but they are so much better for the environment and for one's financial well-being. hmmm.

4) I went to the doctor last week for the first time in about ten years. literally. yesterday I went to get the results of my bloodwork and ekg, and I was scared to death that I had all kinds of diseases. it turns out I have no diseases at all. and that my cholesterol is impressively good, as is my liver function (that one threw me for a loop, considering how much of a lush I was for about seven years there). so yes. I am healthy. and lucky. and I vow to take better care of myself and to see a doctor every year as long as I have insurance.

5) things with that guy are still going, although I have no clue where they are going. at some point maybe we need to have "the talk?" I mean, I know we do, because when nothing is defined there's all sorts of risk. but then there's risk anyway. and the talk is stupid. and I can't even imagine how to start it. as much of a sap as I am in writing, I am NOT AT ALL a sap in speaking. the idea of saying "where is this going?" just sounds laughable to me. I keep thinking about maybe trying to say it, but then when he's around we just have such a good time and everything seems fine and I'd rather not make things weird. so I think that for now I am just going to let things be, and enjoy them, with caution. and I can do that. I am not crazy anymore.

you're all I need...and maybe some faith would do me good...

2009-09-08T18:57:27Z

Sometimes I wonder if I should just stop writing poetry. I mean, I’ve been told so often that my work is good, but it isn’t good enough. It wasn’t good enough to get me into grad school, and it hasn’t been good enough to be published anywhere other than a couple of tiny college magazines. Granted, I haven’t submitted much, at all, in the grand scheme of things. But I’ve been submitting a lot more lately, and still getting nothing but rejections. Granted, the rejections are tempered with “We like your work- we just don’t like it enough to publish it right now. We welcome you to submit again.” But still, they are rejections. And I wonder how many of those letters I should get before I just stop. I don’t want to be one of those delusional people who think they are good at something when in actuality, they suck, and everyone else knows they suck. How long do you work at it before you just give up the ghost and call yourself a failed writer? I am the type of person who prefers to rip off the band-aid when it’s time take it off, rather than peel at it bit by bit. If I have to swallow a hard truth, I just want to down it immediately. I prefer the pain to be quick, intense, and then over.

I don’t honestly think it’s time to do that yet. I really have not ever worked hard enough at writing/ being published to know whether or not it’s possible. I am really kind of a lazy person, and it would be good for me to make a valid effort at not being lazy rather than using a few rejections as an excuse to go back to being lazy. But goddamn, I’ll be 30 in a few months, and I always thought that by now I would have demonstrated some real success at SOMETHING. I guess I mostly have the laziness to blame for that though.

In other news, things are kind of happening with that boy I was talking about. I am very tentatively opening myself up, and have yet to be smacked in the face, although nothing is really defined, and there is definitely some danger and uncertainty. It already matters to me a lot more than I’d like, and I am scared to death. I didn’t really think I would ever feel like this again. But his presence in my life is doing me enough good that I am willing to risk a bit, and it seems like he feels the same. So we’ll see

HAHAHA

2009-09-04T21:17:45Z

oh man, I just found the funniest thing ever. I was reading through my old livejournal posts and foundTyso remember how a few weeks ago I told phil once and for all that I wasn't going to date him? well, apparently that didn't make sense to him, because he kept on calling me. after avoiding his phone calls for awhile I decided the other night to just answer the phone and have a chat with him, because what harm could there be in that? hehehe. about thirty seconds into the conversation he told me that he loved me and that he had written a song about me and would I please go out with him the next night and talk. so I was like "I'll go out and talk, but I don't want you saying things and expecting to hear certain things back when I may be saying something different..." so after a night of freaking out and talking the whole thing out with a bunch of people and practicing what I would say (with hans pretending to be phil on the phone, which was quite entertaining), I went to pick him up last night and we went to java hutt in ferndale...right from the beginning I was straightforward...he kept asking me to grab onto him, to rub his back, etc., and I kept saying no. and he kept asking me why, and I was like "because I don't want to send you mixed messages, blah blah blah...I just don't have romantic feelings for you anymore..." and then of course he started saying that he knew that already and he just wanted to be friends. but apparently being friends consists of him staring at my chest, asking me to sit closer to him on the couch, and commenting that my ass looks like it's gotten bigger and he likes that. he spent about an hour telling me how he never had a chance with me because "there's only room for one person in your heart and the space is already taken up..." never once was there an acknowledgement that he was wrong to keep going back and forth between me and his baby's mom. never once did he apologize for that, he just spouted off about how women are all the same and we all treat him like shit and I was just playing head games the whole time and I was acting like a real bitch and women are all cunts, blah blah blah...I think we made quite a scene in java hutt. oh, and according to him I am like gizmo, I start off sweet and cuddly and then suddenly I turn into stripe and start clawing at him with my words. and I am also cold and ruthless.pe your cut conten
ts here.

I had forgotten about that whole conversation. the gizmo reference cracks me up, that has to be the best insult I've ever gotten.

my heart the red sun, your heart the moon clouded...

2009-08-26T15:13:25Z

Oh, I am having big big fights with myself right now.

First of all, I have to remember that other people are not as crazy as I am. Some people do not mean three hundred other things when they say one thing. Some people just mean the thing that they say. And conversely, some people do not understand that I do often mean three hundred other things when I say one thing. So at some point, I have to just say the thing I mean, instead of disguising it in platitudes. And I have to stop being terrified of the response.

I just don’t want to be a girl about it. And I don’t want to feel stupid. I HATE feeling stupid. I hate it so much that sometimes I think I would rather anguish in this sea of ambiguity than even risk feeling stupid.

It is so nice to have someone in my life like this right now. Someone to go to the library with and walk around Brooklyn with and watch tv with and talk until 5am with (completely sober). It is nice to have someone that I know I can always text at any time of the day, and at least half the time he texts me first. With him, I can voice all the thoughts that I hold in most of the time because I worry that they’re too weird or cheesy or adolescent. I have had only two other friendships like this before, and I managed to severely fuck them both up by falling in love with the guys (and sleeping with them) when their feelings were far more ambiguous.

So there is half of me that’s saying just let it be, and this poem by Jack Kerouac is in my head again (it is my mantra from time to time):

He is your friend, let him dream;
He's not your brother he's not your father,
He's not St. Michael he's a guy

He's married, he works, go on sleeping
On the other side of the world,
Go thinking in the Great European Night

I'm explaining him to you my way not yours,
Child, dog, --listen: go find your soul,
Go smell the wind, go far

Life is a pity. Close the book, go on,
Write no more on the wall, on the moon,
At the Dog's, in the sea in the snowing bottom.

Go find God in the nights, the clouds too.
When can it stop this big circle at the skull
oh Neal; there are men, things outside to do.

Great huge tombs of Activity
in the desert of Africa of the heart,
The black angels, the women in bed

with their beautiful arms open for you
in their youth, some tenderness
begging in the same shroud

The big clouds of new continents,
O foot tired in climes so mysterious

Don't go down the other side for nothing.

He’s not married, don’t worry. And then, he’s choosing to spend this time with me, too. I’m not forcing him. At this point everything is completely mutual. And he’s not stupid. In the past we have both said (albeit as fleetingly and glossed-over as possible) that we like each other. So obviously, if that was already out there, and now we’re becoming closer, the question has got to be on his mind, too. But I’m just afraid that if I bring it up, it will seem like I’m forcing things.

And there is an ex in the picture. There is always an ex in the picture, within everyone I ever like. And for me, there is not. Of the three people I could actually call exes, one is engaged, one is gay, and one is dead. So, I’m pretty much a free agent. A free agent with a really bad habit of allowing herself to be the emotional support while people get over their shit, and then being left behind once they do. That is no ones fault but my own, since I put myself in that position. This has the potential to be a repeat of that pattern, and I do not want that at all.

It’ll work itself out I suppose. And if nothing ends up happening, I haven’t really lost anything. I’ve been alone for years, I know how to do that and it’s comfortable to me. It’s just that this is reminding me what it’s like not to be alone. And if there’s potential, I don’t want to let my defenses ruin it.

I was the type of kid who skipped to the end of each option in the Choose Your Own Adventure books so that I knew what I was getting myself into.

I have two choices. I could put it out there, or I could just see what happens. Thank god I am no longer a drunk; if I was, I would have put it out there already, and probably in the least graceful way possible. Thank god also that I can go to the gym tonight and sweat all this stuff out, instead of stewing in my room waiting for text messages.

so get in where you fit in, go on and shine...

2009-08-21T15:33:49Z

I just realized that I get a tiny rush out of paying bills. Is that weird?

Yesterday, I signed up for a gym membership. I’ve been hemming and hawing over that idea for years…I haven’t worked out regularly since I lived in Detroit and could attend the free aerobics class at my family’s church. I went jogging on and off in Jersey city, and have done it on and off since I’ve lived on Eastern Parkway, but no routine has stuck.
A couple of days ago, so Sophia mentioned that she was going to join New York Sports Club, and that they were having a promotion where you pay nothing up front (no initiation fee or anything), and you get a free month, then it’s $86 a month for the “Regional Passport,” which means you can go to any NYSC. So, without over-thinking it, I signed up. It is a little costly, but it will theoretically keep me out of trouble and prevent me from spending money in less healthy ways, if I utilize it properly.

The interesting thing is, my perspective on working out seems to have completely changed. It was always, always about weight loss for me before. I have had body image problems for literally as long as I can remember. In the past, every time I have set out on any kind of lifestyle change that included exercise or an adjustment to my diet, the ultimate goal was to emerge thin, and that was supposed to magically fix everything. The fear and anxiety I felt at the beginning always stemmed from the worry that I wouldn’t stick with it, or wouldn’t be able to commit to the point of losing as much weight as I wanted to.

And then, somehow (in the last year, particularly), I just got over that desire to be thin. I honestly love my body as it is. I’m not sure how that happened, or why it took 29 years for it to happen, but it’s true. This time, I find that I am honestly anxious and afraid about losing too much weight. Or maybe what I’m afraid of is catching the bad body image virus again. Sophia told me the other day that I’m a good influence on her because I am so confident in my body and have no desire to conform to the thinness ideal, and I think that’s the best compliment I’ve gotten in ages. And I do not want to lose that, I don’t want any trainer convincing me that I need to weigh 115 or fit into a size 4 or anything like that. I want the increased endorphins that exercise gives you. I want the cardiovascular benefits, and I want to be stronger and in better shape. I also wouldn’t mind toning my body a bit. But I honestly couldn’t give two fucks about getting thin. Losing the shape I have would be a terrible thing. So please, if you hear me start backtracking on that, remind me what I said.