get 'er done

The ups and downs of a chronic illness make me motion sick.

It's really when I experience too much stress or too much activity that my immune system's knees buckle and without the fort secured I end up getting invaded (ie sick). And when there is an invasion in my body, it's not just a neighboring country - it's a full on universal effort - every country and neighboring planet wants a crack at it. No cute little tummy ache or sniffles for me.

No, my body gets hijacked by viruses, bacteria, and what can look like downright poor upkeep with the seriousness of an accountant, and the determination of an IRS auditor.

We're talking simulataneous multiple illnesses, all impacting different systems.

We're talking "stump the doctors" with how many different unrelated things are happening as they try to find an underlying connection or cause.

You'd think the invaders were planning their stradegies together for decades - Shock and Awe - that's how quick, skilled and successful they can be.

My body is the ultimate multi-tasker. True story. As walls across the vast fortress that is my body crumble and invaders file in and get settled, somehow my body still manages to launch multiple counter attacks all over the place, taking down each illness.

It takes a bit longer to heal from multiple illnesses when you're stressed out and have a chronic condition (especially when the particular illness doesn't seem to have a source/reason/cause and therefore medication determinations becomes a guessing game). Anyway, the job still gets done (until one day, it doesn't).

What i learned in California

Believe it or not, I’ve learned a lot in California (beyond how much I dislike California and Californians!), and I’m sure it will be another couple of years to unfold all that I’ve gotten from this experience.

In southern CA I didn’t really do much besides make stuff at home. I didn’t take any classes, or go to any workshops, or even do Yoga. Partly it was not wanting to spend money. Partly it was not having a car and not wanting to spend 2 or 3 hours on the damn bus just to go across town and do ceramics. I could hear our neighbors through the walls at all hours, had no furniture, and lived 2 houses from the beach.

In northern CA I'm back in college. I’ve taken at least 3 studio art classes and violin both semesters. I’m taking a stretching class that’s really helping me get ready to start Yoga again (and is similar in some ways). I’ve had half a dozen roommates, lived with hippie drug dealers, been without a fridge or heat.

What I learned about myself:

1. It is not okay to settle and make-do all the time, especially when I don’t have to. If I want something, get it / have it.
2. drugs are not cool. okay, I already knew this. But now, after being in a pretty serious drug culture, I vividly recall why I knew this in the first place.... I don't feel safe around drug users.
3. I need to be very warm inside my home. The blood in my fingers and toes stops circulating when I’m cold – it’s weird and only started happening last semester (as far as I know, but then, I’ve never been cold 24/7/365 like I have on the coast of California).
4. I need real summers that are way too hot for anyone’s own good and air conditioners are required for functioning properly. This is partly about being warm, but also about getting lots of bright sun in my face. The sun makes happy chemicals in my brain, and I like it.
5. I need to live only with my partner – no other roommates – so I can better control the cleanliness, temperature, and noise level in my environment. I like things to be pretty clean in my own home – or at least only be dirty/messy if I’ve left things dirty/messy. I also like silence and lots of it. We've already covered being warm.
6. I need real furniture. no, seriously. my body actually doesn’t appreciate sitting and sleeping on the floor no matter how cushiony the carpet is. I have stupid hip and knee and shoulder and neck issues and can’t fathom what my body will be like when I’ve actually gotten old.
7. I need space to create and store my artwork – not a lot of space, but some.
8. I don’t need to be in school to learn/expand my art skills. What I need is to take at least one painting and one ceramics course each session at a community center. This gives me access to facilities and competent teachers. Plus I get to be around other people who like to do what I like to do, and who generally aren't chatting about their recent drug acquisition/useage.
I need to take violin lessons. When I was 8, my grandma asked me what instrument I would like to play and they’d get me lessons. I thought long and hard and chose violin. She said I couldn’t take violin because it was too hard. I think she meant it was too expensive, or she didn’t want to hear me practice a screechy instrument or something. Anyway, after trying the flute, piano, and guitar I’m here to say, the violin is about 1000 times easier, more beautiful sounding and fun. If they had given me lessons at 8yrs old, maybe I’d have been a world-class violinist by now.
9. I need friends. Even if they don’t come over for dinner or wine or fresh baked cookies. I need to live near people and do visiting and confiding and giggling and occasional outings.
10. I need organic food, a toaster oven, and filtered water. I do not need a refrigerator. I do need a small freezer, just large enough to fit a few pints of Ben and Jerry's.
11. When I don’t live in Boston or other cities with excellent transportation, I must have a car. It is necessary, because I need to be able to go places and not feel like I can’t b/c the bus will take too long.
12. I want to live in Vermont. Okay, I didn’t actually learn this in California. I learned it in Vermont when I first stayed there in the summer. It is so peaceful and beautiful and adorable. There are lots of artists. Towns are small. Housing is inexpensive. It is very quiet. Ice cream is wicked cheap.

I’m pretty sure I could go on another 25 items or so. But I think you get the idea.

fake icicles make me cold

every office in san diego has a damn christmas tree. will i go to hell for saying "damn" in the same sentence as "christmas tree"? probably, but i don't care because i don't believe in hell. i won't elaborate though, because that's a whole other blog entry.

anyway, im finding most businesses also have snowmen, snow drifts and snow flakes painted on their windows as well. i think i can safely say it hasn't snowed in san diego in at least a hundred thousand years or so.

what does snow have to do with being christian? was there even snow where christ was born? how 'bout evergreen trees? if so, how much/many? enough to warrant painting every window white and putting up damn trees in every lobby? im having a hard time buying that.

don't get me wrong, im not a "grinch". which, by the way, it seems like calling someone a "grinch" because they don't want to partake in celebrating the birth of jesus christ (perhaps because they aren't christian), is a lot like calling people in the USA unAmerican for not wanting to go to war in Vietnam or Iraq. im just saying.

while temping, one of the employees (not my supervisor) comes in with christmas ornaments for the tree, which is directly in font of me accross the lobby. she asks, "Why aren't the christmas lights on?" shit, i don't know. no one left me a note asking me to turn the damn things on. in fact, i didn't see the stupid thing sitting there. does that make me a bad christian? oh, wait - im not a christian.

the employee begins hanging the ornaments she brought in, then looks at me and says "i'll just give these to you - you'll need something to do today." as with most things, when im stunned by an unexpected situation or something ive never encountered before, i said nothing. she left 100 or so plastic icicles sitting at my desk for me to place nicely on the tree.

initially i was annoyed - it seems a little out of the range of temp duties - then figured, "she's right that i don't have much to do." however, once i started placing icicles on the tree, i started thinking, "good thing im not jewish or something." then i thought, "wait, im not christian, either. who cares what religion i may or may not be? people just assume they can just have another person do their religious decorating?"

it probably didn't occur to her i might not be christian. and if it did, it probably wouldn't have occurred to her that a non-christian wouldn't be giddy about decorating a christmas tree - in fact, that it might actually be offensive.

in fact, i am very offended. im so offended that although last night i was contemplating getting a little christmas tree for my apartment (christmas trees aren't really christian anyway), that i don't want a christmas tree anymore. the whole experience has left me feeling gross - forced to participate in someone else's religious practices. it might have been different if she'd asked if i minded, or if it conflicted with my beliefs. but she didn't.

of course, what is really sick is how none of this festive decor - painted windows, lawn ornaments, trees, snow, etc. - has anything to do with jesus christ or being christian. it has nothing to do with anything, really, except consumerism. of course, that's not news - that's been the case for decades, at least.

christmas is now about shopping in malls for $100 sweaters and perfume gift sets, fake snow gracing southern california windows, and plastic trees in offices sporting plastic icicles - in short, spending and glamour. not a whole lot of substance or meaning going on here. but that's alright, that's exactly the way us Americans like it.

i do not heart my neighbor

our upstairs neighbor makes me crazy.

he is loud, careless, clumsy, and keeps strange hours. therefore, he has come to be quite a thorn in my side.

with his big black Ford truck, little red face and pompous know-it-all attitude.

you never know when he'll arrive home (2pm or 2am), stomping about, slamming drawers and doors. or when he'll be on the phone with debi, his ex-wife, screaming at her about money. or on the phone, which apparently is directly over our sleeping area.

he makes and receives calls at all hours - this morning i was awoken before 5:30am to him making a phone call. the loud buzz of his voice echoing through the floor.

when i could take it no longer, around 6am, i went upstairs and knocked on his door. he didn't answer, but he did get off the phone... for 20 minutes. just long enough for me to crawl back into bed and think i might be going back to sleep.

i want him to be more thoughtful and quiet. i want him to leave debi alone and stay out of other people's business so i can stay out of his. i want him to shut up. i want him to go away.

tragedy strikes with an iron foot

i am so sad.
after removing our giant spider's web, it decided to leave.
on it's way out of the building with suitcase in tow, our upstairs neighbor (a clumsy and noisy recently divorced man who we know way too much about due to the necessity of open windows) came down stairs at the beckoning of some female voice and... well, the interaction sounded something like this:

female voice: "oh my god! have you seen this spider? come down here and see this! it's the biggest spider ive ever seen!"

evil neighbor voice: "want me to come kill it?"

female voice: "no, just come look at it!"

queue neighbor's clunky footsteps down the stairs.

female voice: "can you believe this? it's huge!"

queue loud slap of manly shoe hitting concrete and destroying innocent spider.
pan out to lifeless body left in the desolate hallway.

in the evening DB and I took it up to the cliffs for a simple, quiet ceremonial goodbye. although we were terrified of the spider we knew it had no ill intentions. it was as if a powerful soul left our presence.

meanwhile, i am left to wonder what on earth is wrong with people? what is the point of killing something that isn't in your way, harming you, or even threatening? what is it about humans that we kill for sport, for the thrill and joy of being so powerful to destroy life? dear mister president, can you and your buddy dick answer these questions for me and my dearly departed spider-friend?

time changes every thing

so the time change is really messing me up.
and by all accounts, it really truly shouldn't make such a difference. i mean, we just changed a clock we didn't actually change time.

yet my body is all up in arms.

im not sleeping well, exhausted, hungry all the damn time or not hungry at all, and im confused as hell when it gets dark at 5:30pm.

for the love of god, its only a one hour difference in when we get up, eat, and go places! the ACTUAL time is still the SAME, we just call it something else!

maybe i should make a piece of art as a tribute to this insane situation.

"You're not going crazy. You're going sane in a crazy world!"
~The Tick

POP QUIZ

What is more excrutiating?

1. Cutting off your own limb while pinned to the ground by a bear trap in the antarctic, and being just out of reach of your chapstick which giggling penguins are using for a hockey puck as a walrus chooses you as its next mate


2. Spending a week locked up in an 90 degree trailer with a swarm of mosquitos, thus having to sleep fully clothed in socks, jeans and long sleeve sweatshirt and with a blanket, "just in case"

or

3. Attending a family gathering where you are forced to spend several hours with an ignorant, creepy, lying, loser, sexist pig who:
   
   • as your biological father, abandoned you a dozen or more times over the first 21 years of your life because of various versions of the statement "i dont want to pay child support"
   
   
   • after suggesting you drop out of college because he had another kid on the way and needed the money, stopped talking to you because you decided to finish college and be the first in your family to get a 4 year degree
   
   
   • never once apologized for abandoning you but just popped in and out of your life whenever he felt like playing "dad"
   
   
   • you finally told "no more... this is the last time you are choosing not to be part of my life. now we play by my rules and you dont get to come back and play "dad" when you feel like it. we're done." and havent spoken with in 8 years
   
   
   • caused you all kinds of other emotional/mental trauma and humiliation during your most impressionable and formative years
   
   and at this family gathering
   
   • repeatedly tells his latest kid to hug and kiss you even though you dont know each other and it clearly makes her and you uncomfortable
   
   
   • while posing for family pictures, insists on shouting "money" instead of "cheese", when money is the whole reason he repeatedly abandoned you and gave up parental rights to one of his other kids
   
   
   • sneaks in behind you and places his kid's hand on your shoulder to make it appear that you have some sort of relationship
   
   
   • tells his kid to tell you that if you wanted to take his new car for a drive he'd let you, if you would ask him
   
   
   • apparently tells his 6 year old daughter enough blonde jokes that she actually asks her grandparents "does that mean that im not smart?" when they discuss how blonde her hair is

1.8 mile (aka boobs 3)

on my way to work this morning i saw so much change and wonder around me!

landscapers had all of the flowers and plants at the new boylston street median, ready to beautify my neighborhood! i couldnt help but smile at this gorgeous display of neighborhood revitalization occurring so near my own home.

further down Boylston was the incredibly lovely and charming Globe girl camped outside slugnut (LOM/my slang for Dunkin Donuts) selling papers to passersby.

it was a joy to observe the Public Garden improvements, as each day more and more progress is made toward completing whatever it is they are doing near Arlington Street. is the new concrete patch becoming a new fountain? a statue? a small oration area? only time will tell.

all of these exciting views prompted me to change the last leg of my route, nearly allowing me to make the 1.8 mile trip without being accosted by some pervert.

you know where this is going, dont you?

as i made my way through the Boston Common the summer sites continued to astound me ... teens groping each other near the Frog Pond, homeless couples taking in the morning sun on the benches, and then...

then a nicely dressed, possibly employed twentysomething-year-old male in a baseball cap sitting on a bench to my left was compelled to speak to me as i pass... "you feeling horny? I'm hard as a rock...".

with all the shock of someone who is barraged with this exact kind of verbal assault on a daily basis, continuing to smile to myself, i looked him directly in the eye, laughed, shook my head in pity, continued walking and wondered to myself if maybe i shouldnt walk through the park any more.

and as any native Bostonian might do after such a moving display of sexual prowess, i headed to slugnut and bought myself a large decaf iced coffee with sugar and cream. so much for a change of scenery.

i like your boobs, adendum

i returned from meditation just after 10pm. there was a reading tonight that really spoke to me about my boobs.

ok, it wasnt really my boobs that the reading spoke to... rather it got me thinking more about what i had been saying about (not) reacting... and also about something ive been trying to communicate to LOM about attachment and reacting.

what was it that was read and what did it mean to me?

the essence of what i heard tonight is that i am everything and everything is me. thus, to hate anything is to hate myself. the only answer is love. we must love everything, even the "bad".

when we love and accept, and release judgement and the need to control, we become peace. when we judge or hate we create our own misery, we react. love does not react because it is in total acceptance of what is.

my response to those who are so hurt and destroyed that they must reach to denigrate me, is to love them with all of my heart and soul.

read the book... it says it much more eloquentlly. oh, and can i borrow it from you?

i like your boobs, part 2

it never ceases to amaze me when a homeless guy comments on my chest. no really, it leaves me speechless each and every time.

why is it that i cannot seem to recover from these verbal assaults quickly enough to react? is it that im the "queen of cool" or so permanently locked in default "contemplative mode" that i cant even eeek out a "fuck you, asshole"? i pride myself on my ability to remain calm and process things, choosing to react if i deem it necessary, but the lack of reaction in these situations is bordering on passive compliance and acceptance.

meanwhile, regardless of what im wearing - a halter top, regular ol' tank top, t-shirt, or even a jacket over my t-shirt or tank, i get the same obnoxious reaction from men (especially homeless men) as i mind my own business on the way to the grocery store, park or office... .

i like your boobs, part 1

what is wrong with some men? (notice i did not say "all men"). over the last 3 days i have had at least 3 men (2 of which were definately homeless) comment, quite audibly and without a sense of shame, on the size, attractiveness, or overall quality of my chest.

what kind of world do we live in where any person can assume the right to verbally assault another person and call unwanted attention to a part of that persons body?

its not flattery, appreciation, adoration, or even attraction that results in this inappropriate behavior. and its just too easy to dismiss such aggressiveness to a blanket statement like "men are pigs," or "boys will be boys".

sexism, racism, classism, mysogyny, patriarchy, power, and ignorance are at the root. but just because one can identify the root, doesnt mean that the problem ceases to exist, or ceases to bother those who the comments are directed toward. it only makes it more infuriating.

i dont mind being noticed on occassion, or if someone were to approach me to talk. but i do not want to be oggled, commented on, shouted at, or otherwise have attention drawn to me, my breasts, or any other part of my body.

two days

a squirrel doing sommersaults in the dirt hole it was digging

passing a sketchy looking guy on the way to work who i could hear saying under his breath "... those tits..."

my pc refusing to boot, even in safe mode... then once agreeing to boot, freezing immediately after logged on

trident and 3 dover classics

evening nap after the fall of atlantis and meeting the child who would become faerie queen

iTunes - pure prairie league - amie

less listening, more arguing

grooming... again

using ladder 15 to install a new flag and rope... big dogs, everywhere!

a homeless guy walking in my direction who felt the need to announce to himself "i like what i see"... apparently tank tops are "hot"

banana waffles - yum

angry

i am so angry i now feel depressed, mostly because i couldnt express it in any way because you are so sensitive about everything in the world.

every sound i utter is construed to mean something thoughtless and brutal... even when its about me and not you.

i will not stay angry forever but i will stay angry until im done feeling angry, and that is fair and logical to me.