first appointment with dss today. i just don't know why i've doled out the big bucks when they ask me the very same information as is on the adoption record. i think they're testing me.
"if she snaps at us for asking her to waste her time while paying us an arm and a leg, we'll RIP that kid out of her home so fast her head will spin!"
the fuckers.
anyway, i've been out of the loop for awhile. work, kid, work, school, work, kid ... you get the picture. this semester's students are turning out to be more fun than stupid. that's a good thing, in case you needed to ask.
i'm getting addicted to coffee again. when i slaved in the famously overpriced corporate coffee machine i became way too attached to caramel lattes. now it's spiced chai breve drip. y'all get that?
i'm on the 3rd month of my last pair of contact lenses and have to shell out too much money to my loansharks (re: fleet and citibank) to buy more. this is insanity!
i got the Get Used to Lonesome ultramix in the mail today and haven't stopped listening to it since. i do believe it may become a soundtrack. thanks you!
the child must sleep now. the mama must eat ice cream and watch the oc now. the bank must credit the mama's account with a million dollars now (just in case it works)!
25.1.04
6.1.04
In motion
i watched this corny movie this weekend - Buying The Cow. ever seen it? it was typical and nonchallenging, but i was struck by a line of dialogue.
woman: the worst thing you can do is lose the person you love because you're afraid of commitment.
man: no, the worst thing you can do is commit to the wrong person because you're afraid of loneliness.
ain't THAT the damned truth. luckily, i know my fears come from that nasty commitment phobia and not from any hesitation about whether or not miller is the perfect fit for me. we're interlocking pieces, this i know.
however, in light of that mini-revelation, and after watching antoine fisher and crying through the entire movie, i have stumbled on my 5 year plan. it involves spitting out a biological kid next year (2005) and then fostering/adopting american kids after 2009.
cause, ya know, not enough american kids are adopted. or fostered. and i have the ability, the desire, and the resources to pitch in. is this a resolution? i hadn't really thought of that til just now, but i don't think it is. when i saw the angelina jolie interview with barbara walters and she said "i cannot consciously birth a child knowing there are so many in this world with no family," i completely agreed. that spoke to me. that has been my secret belief that i'm only now voicing.
however, i must compromise with my partner who intently wants a biological child. selfish though i think it is, i understand the biological/social urge to father and raise your offspring. but after that? i'm done with procreating.
uh. i got off track here. i suppose commitment and family and my sociopolitcal ideas are all interconnected, but i think i came here wanting to tell you that i'm up and moving and trying to use 2004 to set up the rest of my life.
i also wanted to tell you that listening to rickie lee jones and reading color lines is not the way to discourage myself.
woman: the worst thing you can do is lose the person you love because you're afraid of commitment.
man: no, the worst thing you can do is commit to the wrong person because you're afraid of loneliness.
ain't THAT the damned truth. luckily, i know my fears come from that nasty commitment phobia and not from any hesitation about whether or not miller is the perfect fit for me. we're interlocking pieces, this i know.
however, in light of that mini-revelation, and after watching antoine fisher and crying through the entire movie, i have stumbled on my 5 year plan. it involves spitting out a biological kid next year (2005) and then fostering/adopting american kids after 2009.
cause, ya know, not enough american kids are adopted. or fostered. and i have the ability, the desire, and the resources to pitch in. is this a resolution? i hadn't really thought of that til just now, but i don't think it is. when i saw the angelina jolie interview with barbara walters and she said "i cannot consciously birth a child knowing there are so many in this world with no family," i completely agreed. that spoke to me. that has been my secret belief that i'm only now voicing.
however, i must compromise with my partner who intently wants a biological child. selfish though i think it is, i understand the biological/social urge to father and raise your offspring. but after that? i'm done with procreating.
uh. i got off track here. i suppose commitment and family and my sociopolitcal ideas are all interconnected, but i think i came here wanting to tell you that i'm up and moving and trying to use 2004 to set up the rest of my life.
i also wanted to tell you that listening to rickie lee jones and reading color lines is not the way to discourage myself.
4.1.04
The problem with carpooling
I have a problem.
I let people into my life too quickly. While I don't necessarily put my guard down, I do allow them to infiltrate my precious space.
And I'm space-hungry woman.
So now I've got a ride-along who I can't stand. Who spews negativity at me for an hour each way. Who works down the hall and so could easily cause problems for me at work.
Sample conversation:
Me: "I'm so excited April is here because Pluck gets to start his swimming lessons. He loves the water."
Her: "Yeah, until he drowns!"
No really. She said that.
Sample conversation:
Me: "The mosquitos got Javi at school yesterday. I told them (daycare) to put spray on him but I guess I'll have to make sure - even if it means doing it myself."
Her: "WHAT! Of course YOU have to make sure. It's YOUR kid! I can't believe you didn't put spray on him!"
No really. She said that.
I'm just so fucking fed up with it. And, of course, I get stuck driving everywhere since we're commuting and people think that means I like to drive.
I do like to drive. Just not with someone who screams when I avoid potholes and who makes nasty comments when I stay within the speed limits and nastier comments when I exceed them and who likes to talk shit about my driving to my other passengers who don't talk shit back and who has never once said a positive thing ... about anything!
I've decided i have to end things. but how?! And why do i keep putting myself in these situations? Life is NOT a Friends episode. Things don't just work out between strangers.
And it's as much my fault as it is their's. I should understand my limitations. I should respect my sacred spaces. I should GET TO KNOW SOMEONE before encouraging them to change their lifestyle or agreeing to change my lifestyle right along with them.
I suppose this is an epiphany. It is not one sided when you feel violated. As Susan Scott would say - You get what you tolerate.
Let's hope the breakup goes well.
I let people into my life too quickly. While I don't necessarily put my guard down, I do allow them to infiltrate my precious space.
And I'm space-hungry woman.
So now I've got a ride-along who I can't stand. Who spews negativity at me for an hour each way. Who works down the hall and so could easily cause problems for me at work.
Sample conversation:
Me: "I'm so excited April is here because Pluck gets to start his swimming lessons. He loves the water."
Her: "Yeah, until he drowns!"
No really. She said that.
Sample conversation:
Me: "The mosquitos got Javi at school yesterday. I told them (daycare) to put spray on him but I guess I'll have to make sure - even if it means doing it myself."
Her: "WHAT! Of course YOU have to make sure. It's YOUR kid! I can't believe you didn't put spray on him!"
No really. She said that.
I'm just so fucking fed up with it. And, of course, I get stuck driving everywhere since we're commuting and people think that means I like to drive.
I do like to drive. Just not with someone who screams when I avoid potholes and who makes nasty comments when I stay within the speed limits and nastier comments when I exceed them and who likes to talk shit about my driving to my other passengers who don't talk shit back and who has never once said a positive thing ... about anything!
I've decided i have to end things. but how?! And why do i keep putting myself in these situations? Life is NOT a Friends episode. Things don't just work out between strangers.
And it's as much my fault as it is their's. I should understand my limitations. I should respect my sacred spaces. I should GET TO KNOW SOMEONE before encouraging them to change their lifestyle or agreeing to change my lifestyle right along with them.
I suppose this is an epiphany. It is not one sided when you feel violated. As Susan Scott would say - You get what you tolerate.
Let's hope the breakup goes well.
16.10.02
Body Decorations
I'd like to admit two revelations i had last night:
1. i want to get my lip pierced.
2. i want a tattoo.
There reasons I haven't done either of the above are numerous, but I know the prevailing reason is Fear. That's right. Capital F.
I remember being about 12 years old at a mall with friends. There was a fiery red haired woman with the coolest boots I'd ever seen. She was fluid in movement and her voice boomed. I coveted those boots. Then, my eyes found their way to her mouth -- that source of force and confidence. In her lip was a slice of silver. I fell in love with her then. I also knew right at that moment that I, too, would have silver at my source.
Tatoos are a different story. Growing up in a working class/poor neighborhood, tattoos were an every day occurence. Just across the street from us lived John O, a tattoo artist who worked at the Roadhouse (yes, that was its name). My sister, being much more daring than I ever was, would do odd jobs around John O's house in exchange for tats. She has about seven, including a vine snaking up her side complete with tiny fairies. The first tattoo I wanted was a fairy in a teardrop shape. Now what I want is much more spiritual and connected to the person I am. Both my sisters are tattooed, but i am still harboring Fear.
Fear. Of pain, of social discrimination, of work discrimination, of infection, of pain of pain of pain.
And aren't I too old? I'll be 26 this year. The last person I knew with a lip piercing was 17. I feel too old.
But.
I have made a resolution. I will decorate my body anyway I see fit too. I will conquer my fears one step at a time.
I have decided.
I will get my lip pierced as a reward when i reach my goal weight. If between now and then I decide it isn't something I really want, then I'll abort mission.
I will get my first tattoo on my 30th birthday. Again, that leaves me more than enough to time to be sure it is something I truly want and not one of those "If I were a different person with a different life I'd..." type situations.
These are my revelations. I have decided.
1. i want to get my lip pierced.
2. i want a tattoo.
There reasons I haven't done either of the above are numerous, but I know the prevailing reason is Fear. That's right. Capital F.
I remember being about 12 years old at a mall with friends. There was a fiery red haired woman with the coolest boots I'd ever seen. She was fluid in movement and her voice boomed. I coveted those boots. Then, my eyes found their way to her mouth -- that source of force and confidence. In her lip was a slice of silver. I fell in love with her then. I also knew right at that moment that I, too, would have silver at my source.
Tatoos are a different story. Growing up in a working class/poor neighborhood, tattoos were an every day occurence. Just across the street from us lived John O, a tattoo artist who worked at the Roadhouse (yes, that was its name). My sister, being much more daring than I ever was, would do odd jobs around John O's house in exchange for tats. She has about seven, including a vine snaking up her side complete with tiny fairies. The first tattoo I wanted was a fairy in a teardrop shape. Now what I want is much more spiritual and connected to the person I am. Both my sisters are tattooed, but i am still harboring Fear.
Fear. Of pain, of social discrimination, of work discrimination, of infection, of pain of pain of pain.
And aren't I too old? I'll be 26 this year. The last person I knew with a lip piercing was 17. I feel too old.
But.
I have made a resolution. I will decorate my body anyway I see fit too. I will conquer my fears one step at a time.
I have decided.
I will get my lip pierced as a reward when i reach my goal weight. If between now and then I decide it isn't something I really want, then I'll abort mission.
I will get my first tattoo on my 30th birthday. Again, that leaves me more than enough to time to be sure it is something I truly want and not one of those "If I were a different person with a different life I'd..." type situations.
These are my revelations. I have decided.
9.9.02
Two Years In The Life
Today makes two years. Two years since i last had any contact with my first Big Love.
He wrote me a letter dated 9-9-00 in which he systematically and summarily ripped my heart out and ate it. Of course, that's how i felt upon reading the letter, but only cause it dashed my pride while rubbing a very very sore spot.
Here's the letter. Keep in mind I have not spoken to this man since I received this letter. I hope to never exchange thoughts him again.
Did y'all catch how he first let me know that my friend is what caught his attention and THEN let me know I would survive his rejection? Did y'all see that shit? Keep your fucking head up? What the fuck is that?
I decided after reading this that that mother fucker was not operating in the real fucking world. I have said not a word to him. We live in the same town now and I see him all the time and he tries to puppy-dog-eye his way into a conversation with me. I look right through him and go about my business. Fuck him. Fuck the five years I spent with him. Fuck the friendships I ruined because of him and his insecurities. Fuck the memories i have of him and definitely fuck the way he made everyone believe I used him up and tossed him aside.
It's been two very, very good years without his fucking monkey on my back. I hope he found his factory princess and lives a magical factory life, but i'll be damned if he'll do it with any of my friends.
Will i sound even more bitter if I say I hope he fucking rots? Cause I'm not really bitter about not being with him. I'm bitter for ever wasting so much of my life on him. I'm bitter for becoming so dependent on him that I allowed people to see me the way he wanted them to rather than standing up for myself. I'm bitter cause I could've been with my love way back then, but wasn't cause that mother fucker hated my love, hated my friendship with my love, hated knowing how well my love knew me.
Anyway, it's been two years. It's so over and I'm so glad cause I have Real Love now. And I treasure it.
He wrote me a letter dated 9-9-00 in which he systematically and summarily ripped my heart out and ate it. Of course, that's how i felt upon reading the letter, but only cause it dashed my pride while rubbing a very very sore spot.
Here's the letter. Keep in mind I have not spoken to this man since I received this letter. I hope to never exchange thoughts him again.
Dear Kelly,
Assalamu Alaikum! I don't want to hurt your feelings and I don't want to
alienate you in anyway. I've never been in a situation like this before.
It's not really fair for me to make an opinion about a person based on 1
day. [Your Friend] is captivating. I don't even know how to put it. I felt
sucked into her eyes. It seems like she has a boyfriend though.
It was weird for me because I was happy to see you and yet she was so
beautiful. She's soft and intelligent and lovely and I've tried not to think
about her like that cuz I don't even know her and she's your friend and she's
already taken and if I saw her again would i feel the same? I've been attracted
to girls before that I didn't even know but she reached down my throat and
grabbed my stomach.
I wasn't going to say anything to you because honestly I did not know what
to say. I've tried to explain the best I could. I would like to see her again
only if you're fine with this and she is single. Not one or the other but both.
I don't know how it would be because I don't even know her. The last thing
I need is to go bananas for another man's woman. I'm sure she would make a nice
friend if she did have a boyfriend but how would I handle her playing with my
stomach like that?
I'm tired now and I want to send this off to you as soon as I can. There's
a lot I feel that we need to talk about. You'll hear from me soon. I believe in
you and think you'll do fine wherever you are.
Believe in yourself. You've accomplished so much and your life is just
getting started. Keep your head up!
--MG
Did y'all catch how he first let me know that my friend is what caught his attention and THEN let me know I would survive his rejection? Did y'all see that shit? Keep your fucking head up? What the fuck is that?
I decided after reading this that that mother fucker was not operating in the real fucking world. I have said not a word to him. We live in the same town now and I see him all the time and he tries to puppy-dog-eye his way into a conversation with me. I look right through him and go about my business. Fuck him. Fuck the five years I spent with him. Fuck the friendships I ruined because of him and his insecurities. Fuck the memories i have of him and definitely fuck the way he made everyone believe I used him up and tossed him aside.
It's been two very, very good years without his fucking monkey on my back. I hope he found his factory princess and lives a magical factory life, but i'll be damned if he'll do it with any of my friends.
Will i sound even more bitter if I say I hope he fucking rots? Cause I'm not really bitter about not being with him. I'm bitter for ever wasting so much of my life on him. I'm bitter for becoming so dependent on him that I allowed people to see me the way he wanted them to rather than standing up for myself. I'm bitter cause I could've been with my love way back then, but wasn't cause that mother fucker hated my love, hated my friendship with my love, hated knowing how well my love knew me.
Anyway, it's been two years. It's so over and I'm so glad cause I have Real Love now. And I treasure it.
2.8.02
The blank slate
I composed a whole entry in my head on the way to work this morning. It dealt with loss and the human capacity for sorrow. It dealt with that first crushing blow that snaps back the curtain the innocent keep between themselves and the dirt of this world.
In my mind, a child has a magic carpet of sorts, a blank sheet of unlined pages unfurled across decades and eons. So much potential and hope. Imagine that inverted. Imagine turning that inside out and seeing the huge cavern life can be - a gaping hole with sorrow lapping over the edges. Look into the eyes of a child and recognize the hope there for Something Big. Then imagine those depths being the future holders of grief.
I imagine an American child standing next to children of the same age from war ravaged nations: Rwanda, Palestine, Afghanistan, Israel, Mexico, Chile, and Argentina. The blank sheet has burned for them, yet that American child climbs it freely.
The gauge begins at birth and somewhere along the line, we stretch to hold all that we gather along our paths in life. That's our possibility. We live and die alone, yet together we are currents of pain and hope. The yin-yang of human emotion flowing constantly across our shores, yet never quite drowning us.
In my mind this morning, this thought process reminded me of Adrienne Riche's poem, North American Time. The poem is one of my favorites and truly speaks to community. But, this morning, it sang to me of all that we hold now, all that we have the potential to hold, and how different it is from that blank sheet stretching across time.
Try sitting at a typewriter
one calm summer evening
at a table by a window
in the country, try pretending
your time does not exist
that you are simply you
that the imagination simply strays
like a great moth, unintentional
try telling yourself
you are not accountable
to the life of your tribe
the breath of your planet
I can't exactly pinpoint the connection between my stream of consciousness and Rich's stunning verse. I just wanted to share.
In my mind, a child has a magic carpet of sorts, a blank sheet of unlined pages unfurled across decades and eons. So much potential and hope. Imagine that inverted. Imagine turning that inside out and seeing the huge cavern life can be - a gaping hole with sorrow lapping over the edges. Look into the eyes of a child and recognize the hope there for Something Big. Then imagine those depths being the future holders of grief.
I imagine an American child standing next to children of the same age from war ravaged nations: Rwanda, Palestine, Afghanistan, Israel, Mexico, Chile, and Argentina. The blank sheet has burned for them, yet that American child climbs it freely.
The gauge begins at birth and somewhere along the line, we stretch to hold all that we gather along our paths in life. That's our possibility. We live and die alone, yet together we are currents of pain and hope. The yin-yang of human emotion flowing constantly across our shores, yet never quite drowning us.
In my mind this morning, this thought process reminded me of Adrienne Riche's poem, North American Time. The poem is one of my favorites and truly speaks to community. But, this morning, it sang to me of all that we hold now, all that we have the potential to hold, and how different it is from that blank sheet stretching across time.
Try sitting at a typewriter
one calm summer evening
at a table by a window
in the country, try pretending
your time does not exist
that you are simply you
that the imagination simply strays
like a great moth, unintentional
try telling yourself
you are not accountable
to the life of your tribe
the breath of your planet
I can't exactly pinpoint the connection between my stream of consciousness and Rich's stunning verse. I just wanted to share.
1.7.02
Peel my love like an onion
I cannot even begin to explain how my heartbeat slows and my blood thickens on lazy summer weekends full of direly needed rainfall and long naps between yellow sheets with the fan whirring in the background.
Do you understand how amazingly beautiful it is to wake up beside someone you love and not hear your wee toddler squealing from his crib (because he spent the night somewhere else, of course) - demanding that he be released asap? Can you grasp how deliciously sinful it is to wake up, snuggle closer, and then fall back into thick-throated husky sleep until your body stretches itself into wakefulness and your mind blooms with the possibilities of all the ways these hours can be maximized?
Ungh. How about this for a Saturday: sleeping in; fresh strawberry pancakes with melon on the side (made for you, not by you); reading on the couch with your love opposite you; a long nap with your love curled around you; anxious, rough, explosive afternoon sex; a hot shower and perfectly curled hair; your love staring into your eyes while bowled over by how beautiful you are half naked in nothing but a beaded burgundy skirt and lipstick; a long, weaving drive though rainslick streets; laughing and strolling together; your legs thrown side-saddle over your love on a park bench, head resting on his shoulder as you slide your spoon over a crest of ice cream that becomes liquid heaven in your mouth; long drive home through soft darkness with the sunroof back and the windows down; crawling in bed, wrapped up in your love; falling into luxurious sleep finally aware of the possibility that the rest of your life could be just this beautiful.
Do you understand how amazingly beautiful it is to wake up beside someone you love and not hear your wee toddler squealing from his crib (because he spent the night somewhere else, of course) - demanding that he be released asap? Can you grasp how deliciously sinful it is to wake up, snuggle closer, and then fall back into thick-throated husky sleep until your body stretches itself into wakefulness and your mind blooms with the possibilities of all the ways these hours can be maximized?
Ungh. How about this for a Saturday: sleeping in; fresh strawberry pancakes with melon on the side (made for you, not by you); reading on the couch with your love opposite you; a long nap with your love curled around you; anxious, rough, explosive afternoon sex; a hot shower and perfectly curled hair; your love staring into your eyes while bowled over by how beautiful you are half naked in nothing but a beaded burgundy skirt and lipstick; a long, weaving drive though rainslick streets; laughing and strolling together; your legs thrown side-saddle over your love on a park bench, head resting on his shoulder as you slide your spoon over a crest of ice cream that becomes liquid heaven in your mouth; long drive home through soft darkness with the sunroof back and the windows down; crawling in bed, wrapped up in your love; falling into luxurious sleep finally aware of the possibility that the rest of your life could be just this beautiful.
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