Thursday, November 27, 2008

give thanks

I send out a text message that reads: "Happy thanksgiVing!"
I rarely send out a mass text message, in fact this is one of two times but I wanted to wish all the people I was thankful for a happy day.
I get a colorful array of responses.
A couple "gobble gobbles"
A few "You too"
A couple "You too...who is this?"
and one that says "Ving, Ving to you, too."
I don't get it at first and then realize it is in reference to the large "V" i accidentally typed in my "Happy thanksgiVing" message.
I laugh and am thankful for all of these strange people.
another message comes through
"don't puke on tofurkey."
this year, i am really thankful for my friends.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

a moment of hard clarity

"i was his favorite."
the words spill out of me like a secret exiting a womb.
we are not supposed to say these things.
i am struck dumb by my own confession, realization, narcissism, etc...
she leaves for the bathroom and i hastily put my coat on, my heavy backpack on and pick up the bag of gym attire i have been carrying around for two days but have not used.
i stand in cheap dumb boots with heels that were not meant to be worn in new york city.
the weight i carry is hard.
hard on my body, my fractured ribs and soar back, my weak right knee and my swollen feet.
i catch a glimpse of myself standing with this heavy load about to prove to myself that i can walk ten blocks like this and a sad song comes on the pa system.
the mood is sad, the reflection is sad and for the first time i think to myself,
"what the fuck am i doing here?"
and not in the metaphorical existence but in the physical existence.
why am i so hard?
on my body on myself on the people i love?
why am i carrying all this shit and why i am standing in these ridiculous shoes when i could be sitting for a few momets longer?
why can't i just let myself be free?
in the physical and the metaphorical sense.
i start to get a little choked up as i am reminded of how hurtful all of the things i just confessed were.
another thought comes and before i can swallow it shoots right through the heart, "i am not my brother's mother."
and for a moment, the backpack feels just a little bit lighter.
she exits the bathroom before i can feel any more sorrier for myself and i am grateful for the interruption.
we part ways and i walk one block to the subway station.
i stand in penn station in a burgundy coat with hair to match and i start to feel like i stick out.
i do stick out.
no one there has a red coat and no one there has red hair.
and no one there is carrying two heavy bags standing in black heeled boots.
i make it to my train and write the entire trip until i feel sick and i close it up for another moment of clarity.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

going vogue

i chopped all my hair off today
i looked down at those multi-color tendrils
and i think...
this was long overdue.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

a state of mind

i listen to her talk about how to get published
how to become a freelance writer
how to step into that world of being a "professional writer"
i listen to her with feigned seriousness
a creased brow, a tilted head, a slow almost barely noticeable nod and the only thought that runs through my head is:
"i don't really want to do this."
and the next thought:
"well there's your answer."
and the next thought:
"shutup! you are just scared and lazy."
and then the next thought:
"what DO you want to do?"
and then the next thought:
"maybe i am a playwright. maybe i need to go back to my roots. maybe writing will always be your side thing and your career will have to be something else because freelance nonfiction for damn sure ain't gonna pay the bills."
i lose them after class only to catch up with them on the corner right before we part ways on the subway.
it is cold; bone shivering cold
i ask her what her take is on grad school knowing that she went to columbia for a masters in journalism
she hesitates and then tells me what i needed to hear
something i know but still need to hear
"there is definitely a benefit but you don't need it. its...its 80,000 dollars. its more about building your self confidence and committing yourself financially and emotionally to this idea that you are going to be a journalist."
huh.
I talk with my fellow comrade in quarter life crisis and she adds,
"i totally agree. grad school is a state of mind."
and something inside me...releases.
if i could do it for free, i would. but i don't need it. i need me to believe in me. i need me to keep trying. i need me to do the work and to accept that it is going to be really hard but if i keep trying, something will happen.
i need me to have me in a state of mind.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

estoy cansada de mi

sports injury...check
exhaustion....check
homesickness...check
possible cavity...check
continual directionless feeling....check
only having made ten minutes for myself out of the entire weekend....check
tired of recycling the same thoughts and reaching the point where i must just take a leap of faith...check
in desperate need of a haircut or some semblance of someone 27 as opposed to 16...check
hungover from small amounts of drinking throughout the weekend...check
in need of vacation, preferably somewhere warm...check

Monday, November 10, 2008

exchange time

i am nauseas
i am in pain
i am angry and tired
i am trying my best to answer each call with a well-hidden contempt
but after three in a row, four will just get attitude
"i have to start looking for another job."
"okay," she says and something about the way she says it makes it feel like a dare
like this is a "shit or get off the pot" moment
i confess later to her that part of my anger is that i know i can't quit until i have something else lined up
and she agrees cause she knows
and i am starting to see her as someone i could really become close with
she is no bullshit and i for me, i think that is becoming the most important quality a friend could possess
i realize suddenly that i owe her an overdue thank you
her and her mother
and it strikes me that i have maybe been a little too self-possessed or maybe just too distracted that i had let this slip past me for a few days too long
i am starting to see that the best part of my day is the time she comes and sits with me
and the laughs we exchange in our stories of love's labor and the pursuit of happiness
i am starting to be thankful for finding such a great treasure in what i have been bitching about as a boring bullshit job
i am remembering to stay focused on the positive and perhaps more will come my way.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

a letter to the mormon and catholic churches,

perhaps if you spent less time focusing on repressing gay rights
you would have more time to spread the messages of "love"
that are supposed to be at the foundations of your religion
perhaps if you stopped worrying about gay marriage
you could focus on all of the failing marriages of your parishioners
or all of the sexually deviant priests that you have silently protected under the cloak of "godliness"
perhaps if you led your lives with love in your heart
the notion of same sex marriages would cease to be so frightening
and maybe, just maybe, all that money you funneled into advertising to pass Prop 8 in California could have been used to feed the homeless, donated to a children's charity or research for cancer
maybe if you focused on all the good you could do rather than stopping two people who love each other from saying, "i do," the world could become a better place
and all those said christian values that you teach your children could
actually be put into practice and we could all do unto others as we would have done unto us.

signed,

a retired catholic
renewed spirit

Thursday, November 6, 2008

the one within me

a conversation from two days ago:
"i just can't wait for it to be over."
"what will the media do?"
"i don't know."
today when signing on to my email a news headline reads
"Another Casualty on Dancing With The Stars"
and i have to laugh that it seems as if things are "back to normal"
i cringe at the phrase
and yet i know that things are different
there is a clarity that was not there before
there is hope
there is positivity and the feeling that maybe i can make that difference that i've been trying to figure out for years
when i stepped out of college, the world was not my oyster
it was foggy, scary, directionless
we basically had a syndicated crime organization running the country
terrorist alerts
a new uproar of racism and a continual wave of panic rolling beneath the country
the years got worse
the wars got bloodier
hurricane katrina drowned new orleans as our president watched it on tv for three days
i was continually at a loss for how bad things were and yet i felt like i couldn't stop it
the election of barack obama was more than historical
for me, it was an answer, a relief for the soul, an awe-inspiring moment,
it was a vision of a true leader and a people
that were no longer apathetic as i had once concluded
it was a reassurance in the good of people and a newfound strength in a country
and most of all myself
i still do not have the answers for what my path will be,
but the days are starting on a positive note now rather than a numbing suffocating one
and i feel like maybe with the constant vision of a true leader before me
i just might find the one within me.