This was the storm we had a few weeks ago from safely inside. Well kinda. I did use my barefoot to keep the metal screen door open, but as soon as I realized what the headline would read if I died this way, I closed the door. :)
Friday, June 27, 2008
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Happy Pride! This made me so bust out. Remembering when I came out to my folks. They were wonderful in that they told me "no matter what, we love you." They drove me nuts in that my mother then replied, "But do you have to look gay, I mean, hun, you could be so pretty."
I came out after hours of my mother baggering me about shaving my head. Gay okay, bald head, apparently a heart attack waiting to happen.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The Man, II. A quiet fellow, behind me typing away. Hockey player and guitar hero, he’s the weekend counterpart for the job. We always bust out when he finally speaks up.
113/365 Dr. Shaun
Who won’t let me forget he’s a doctor. Renegade psychologist, he strides in with his tongue loaded for chats. I can count on worthy advice and empathy for the wayward soul.
Fave nurse. We share our lives in 15 minute increments. There are few souls I know I have encountered in a past life that gives us such intimacy in this one.
115/365 Dan, The Man, I.
Blurry remembrance, stuck to the arteries, a clogged mess of time. They toasted his side gig in college; the one that leathered his face, robbed him of his hair and mind.
Vecino. A quiet sort, the last of the original crew that resided in my apartment complex, except for me. Always close to finishing that dissertation, he decided to move somewhere else.
Another neighbor friend, she makes me laugh. Reminds me to pace myself to my own experiences rather then social expectations, as she reminds herself. I am glad she moved next door.
A few doors down, she’s the fem in my life who appreciates a good bike ride to Golden Harvest and conversations over wine. I am totes sad that she moving away.
Friday, June 20, 2008
My anger, a resident of this helpless feeling, isn’t ready to count my blessings, isn’t ready to look at the brighter side of this current dilemma. There are things I need to do, places I need to be…like work, and I don’t have time for another problem layered on top of problems cracking my patience these days. I kiss my fingers and touch the tattoo above my heart, a celtic circle representing the maden, mother and crone; promising my anger’s frustration that soon we can release. A bike ride later in the evening once I can get to my own time, but until then I go inside, grab some change, the IPod, and walk to the bus stop. Its one transfer and at least 45 minutes on the bus back to work where the work car resides and I’ll need music to loosen my heart rate to something manageable for the time being. Another late night working.
I imagine the quicken pace of riding the bike, letting anger pump the muscles, snuffing out this piercing alarm going off in my head with sweat. I hope to exhaust this overwhelming sense of drowning with movement. Ah, but I am not there yet. Not even close. Other’s crisis on the task list, homeless individuals to attend to – the irony is I am traveling on the bus to focus on another crisis, while my own sits unmovable in front of my home. Whatevs, I cackle a grizzled laugh in my mind, I can deal with anything.
I figure my neighbors will help me move the car to the back, off the streets where the police ticket the stranded vehicles. I figure with the next paycheck I can get the ignition fixed, knowing a side street mechanic who might take pity. I figure that I have the bus, bike, and a work vehicle to get me through the next week. I figure I can get through this as I count the blessings laid out before me to help me get through. I add to the list empathy & compassion, as my experience offers me the grace to understand how difficult life can get with the simplest of problems – no transportation – for the clients I work with.
Anger doesn’t want clarity, doesn’t want to count those damn blessings, so I hold my frustration and tell myself I prefer to count opportunity and not problems as my guide forward, promising once again, anger will have its place on the bike, pushing as hard as it wants to.
I text my lover, tell her my woos, I add this opportunity to the list. She text me back thoughts of me lingering between cell phones. Modern day communication, another blessing, another resource.
I am completely aware of myself. 31 years has taught me a happy life doesn’t reside in what we have – those materials purchased – or among placid days where no problems lie, but with the ability to feel competent when sh!t hits the fan.
Sigh. Still a new car would be nice or at least the chance to occlude this bleeder car of mine. Phht. Until then, at least I have my blessings.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
even if my queen is taken.