A Treasure Found at Home

five twenty in the morning
eyes open
ears open to the crash bash drive of trucks
in the fruit-packing district

mind still in the dream
the bad dream
the leaving me dream
the not caring dream
the stupid, what was i thinking dream
why even dream such a thing

next those girls come waltzing in
the screaming girls
the wall-building girls
the name calling girls
the speak another language girls
why did i try for so long

i kick them all out

in their place come taxes
the more than i though taxes
the didn’t plan right taxes
the have no money taxes
the grow up quick, here i am taxes
how did i screw up so badly

one thirty six in the afternoon
eyes open
ears open to the mumble whirr of the office
under the bridge

mind still in the dream

saturday was an all day meeting of my shambhala buddhism class. i haven’t written about it yet because i’m honestly not really sure what to say.

we met at drala’s house since the center was busy with a weekend retreat. we shared breakfast an played with the new puppy, kiki.

we went into the other room to meditate. drala had set out a low support cushion for kiki to sit on. i was doubtful, but she plopped right down on it after going to the other room for a chew toy. she was sitting quietly, gnawing away, when the smoke from the incense floated into the stream of sunlight pouring in the window just in front of her. her ears went up and she backed into me pretty quickly. i tried to comfort her a little by putting my hand on her back, but she was really curious about the smoke and more than a little nervous. she crept up to inspect but, being smoke, there was nothing solid to inspect. she ran back to drala and started barking and growling. drala put the incense out and kiki laid down next to him and went to sleep. she slept the whole rest of the hour and a half we meditated, raising her head only when we would switch from sitting to walking to sitting.

for lunch, we went to a great little indian place in the tenderloin. it was delicious, and conveniently located for the second part of our day. after lunch we walked slowly, in silence, around the tenderloin keeping particular slogans in mind. we practiced tonglen, we joined everything with meditation, and i noticed what a different experience it was from when i lived there.

granted, i lived on the edge and would not walk alone through the areas we walked through saturday but the difference was profound. i felt much more separate from the people on the street than i remember feeling when i lived there. not that i ever felt a strong kinship with the men offering me money for sex, but at least they were acknowledging me. i had the feeling that our slow walking and silence created a bubble around us. that they knew we were there to see their pain somehow, and they were ignoring us. (except for that one woman who asked a for a pipe.)

afterwards we drove to crissy field, which was also crowded but with a very different type of energy. we looked at a display of eggs for birds and sharks and other fish in the area, we got coffee, and sat on the seawall and watched a golden retriever do his thing with a tennis ball his owner threw repeatedly into the bay.

i still feel a bit off about the visit to the tenderloin, though. i sort of wish we had done something to interact with the people we were trying to be so open to - gone to glide and served lunch or something. as it was, i feel a little like we were taking advantage of their misfortune to move ourselves just a smidgen further on our spiritual path. drala asked if i though we were hurting them at all. no, it’s not so much that, but that by saying we were being open but by standing by and observing only we weren’t helping when we had a chance to.

i’m coming to understand that i don’t believe in impartial observance when it comes to human interaction. i’m reminded of this quote from desmond tutu:

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.
-Desmond Tutu, clergyman (b. 1931)

this morning i took a town car to work. turns out it’s less expensive than a cab from mom’s hotel. the driver and i started talking about other bay area drivers.

“they think they’re ok cause they have insurance. they don’t understand they have only one life.”

he just about summed it up with that.

i had a bit of insomnia last night. my sleep was all out of whack due to a wonky sleep and food schedule (loved the dancy dancy, didn’t love being paged). i lay in bed reading a bonus book when i was buying a collection of short stories that had been recommended on one of the blogs i read.

‘the perks of being a wallflower’ is written as a collection of letters from charlie to someone we don’t know, who doesn’t know charlie. i loved this format. the reader really gets a chance to see inside the character’s mind in a way i’m not used to. not only do we see what he figures out and what he’s thinking, but we see *as* he figures it out sometimes. what he discovers about himself, about his past and the way he relates to the world, about ‘participating’… the story completely sucked me in.

usually i picture high school stories as taking place in my high school, and this one was pretty easy to do since it takes place during what was my senior year. it reminded me of what it felt like back then. the airiness of being in high school. everything felt different, somehow, than it feels now.

and as i lay in bed considering that feeling of high school i also felt the nagging guilt of not having cleaned the house in a long time. and it seemed strange, but i began to wonder if there was a connection there. the empty (even though that’s not quite the right word), big, airy feeling of being that age. was it really just high school? was it not having real responsibilities like a mortgage or even rent? sometimes i wonder if i just didn’t believe that decisions i made then, day to day what class to take and who to date sort of decision, could make a lasting impact on my life.

but when i think of it more, the big airiness of it all seems to center around my house. sure, we lived literally on the edge of the neighbourhood so that all i saw from my window were empty fields. really empty fields cut through with alleys and streets. ‘they’ had prepared the lots for housing already so it was mostly all dirt until you got to the next town north. i could see the next town from my window, and the border was marked by a row of trees along a street where my now current, then future boyfriend would race cars on the weekends. but i’ll keep the story of falling asleep to the sound of his squealing tires for another day.

i started to wonder if it wasn’t the big, empty, airiness of my parent’s house that helped set the tone for my high school years. our house had high ceilings, 24 ft ceilings in some places, and rooms we almost never used, sofas no one ever sat on. it was a lot of empty. my friends didn’t always like to come to my house and it was hard to explain to my parents why we didn’t ever want to hang out there. it wasn’t comfortable. my friends called it ‘the museum’ and it reminded us of the showrooms in furniture stores where you’re afraid to touch anything.

this is not what i want for my home. i want a cozy, warm, easy, yet clean, home. i need to learn how to strike that balance. i need to remember that not all empty space feels white and intimidating. i need to clear out a bunch of stuff and feng shui more people into my living room. i want to ‘participate’ more and be less of a wallflower.

i wrote this email to my feminist book club list. we’re not big chatters over there, so i’m not surprised i haven’t gotten a response. but i wonder if i’m the only person who feels this way. certainly not, right? it’s a question i struggle with a lot: how do i get past the anger and frustration i feel to become a useful participant in stopping the cycle?

i’m feeling really very very angry today, i need to get some of this out. thanks in advance for reading. at the retreat this weekend someone said something which reminded me of …’s relationship in …. he lived with a woman, her two girls, a dog, a cat, and a fish.

he finally left the relationship because she was abusing him. she would get drunk and bite and hit him.

wednesday at the doctor’s office i heard the receptionist tell a patient that she broke her pinky when she was “hitting [her] boyfriend.” she said it very matter of factly, too, as if there were nothing strange about it.

so here is what i’m really mad about: i’m mad that i see so many women encouraging and supporting and continuing the cycle of violence. i don’t know what to do about it… well, i do in that i know education is key to helping women and men learn to stop this. but i’m not sure how to work with my anger and sadness in the moment. i’m not sure what to do about the deep sense of “good god, you’re right!” i feel when i hear a man say “see, that’s why men rule the world” when they hear a story about the way women undercut each other.

it’s not just that it happens, but that i hear excuses for it all the time. ‘oh, she’s sensitive.’ ‘oh, she’s scared.’ ‘oh, that’s just the way she is.’ we don’t make excuses, as culture, for our men because when men are violent they do more damage. but women tend to be more violent on average.

and of course i’m as guilty of this as anyone. but the anger i feel at other women is sometimes so big i don’t know what to do with it. and part of that anger comes from feeling like i’m the only one who thinks that something is out of line.

so i know this is all over the map, i’m having a hard time really pinpointing what i need or what i’m asking. i just want to understand why women buy into the idea that they need to minimize and control other women. i want to understand why we ignore domestic violence done by women.

i want to know how i can really honestly lovingly compassionately spread knowledge about, and break the cycle of, violence in our homes and our world when i myself am SO FUCKING ANGRY about it, too.

there’s a meme going around that’s 10 things about myself that you might not know. i did the six things back in december, but now it’s up to ten and has gotten a bit more personal. i thought for a long time about what to post, but figured i’m not getting it done that way so instead i’ll just jump right in.

1. some days i think i must be neuro-diverse, a little Different: somewhere on the autism scale. but i don’t match all the major symptoms so i don’t know…

2. because of this, i think maybe i’ll never manage to find a life partner or a long term romantic relationship that works for me…

3. and so i’m nervous that i will never have children…

4. and i’m nervous that if i do get pregnant my children will be clearly autistic.

5. i’m to scared to skydive and i regret not doing it when i had the balls. (but i still want to dive with sharks! big sharks! in that cage! with the chum!)

6. lately when i look in the mirror, i look bigger and puffier… but my clothes fit exactly the same way so i know i’m not actually getting fat.

7. i really really really really hate… HATE to be lied to.

8. i don’t do my hair or wear makeup in part because i think it makes me more approachable by the sort of person i would want to end up with.

9. when i was little “nun working with orphan” was higher on my list of desired careers than “corporate grunt”.

10.  sometimes i wonder if i’d be more successful if i were not as smart.
10a. and then i wonder if i’d be more successful if i were much smarter.

yeah, this is going to be about VT… sorta. really, more about the ‘fallout’ around mental health services. my ideas aren’t well formed here, yet, to say the least.

i’m writing to try to make sense, here, of how i feel and what i think. actually, i don’t have time to make sense of what i think right now, so this will be even less like that and more like a post that i hope gets all of you to think, as well.

when i first heard the rumblings about the VT shooter’s mental state and the questions around why he didn’t get the help he needed i have to admit i was pretty happy about the thought of more opportunity to help.

a friend of mine had a pharmaceutically sponsored breakdown a few years back. he was on the wrong meds, suspected as much, but couldn’t pay for ‘regular’ mental health care and was instead working with the city. his psych wasn’t interested in his side effects and he ended up in a locked ward for a week with many difficult month afterward attempting to sort out his new meds. luckily for him, he’s found something that works and is, as they say, a ‘new man’.

recently a good friend’s brother tried to kill himself. they also can’t afford insurance. he’s been hospitalized before and even now remains on a waiting list.

i was thrilled to think that people like my friend from a few years ago and my other friend’s brother could be in a position to receive more  personalized and appropriate care! but i didn’t consider the ‘other side’. i forgot about how other people see mental health issues. i admit i was thinking selfishly, but jo reminded me what new guidelines could mean and how all this talk reflects on some people.

my goodness! no. i don’t want this stigma on her at all. i don’t want this stigma on anyone, i only want people who need help to be in a position to get help. and i want people who know someone needs help to be in a position to help, even when that someone maybe doesn’t realize. but, yeah, it’s a sticky point. the big problem with forcing someone into a psych ward (besides the stigma) is that they won’t do their part if they’re not ready to.

so, the question is, how to we create a supportive mental health system which protects people from themselves when they are ill and accurately diagnoses who needs to be reigned in a bit and who’s just a little different?

as much as jo’s post made me stop and think of repercussions for her and the people she met, i do see a difference. there do need to be some checks on behaviour. there is always that one weird kid, but sometimes that weirdness crosses a line. and while we can’t force anyone to become healthier, we can certainly, hopefully, find a better way to help our professors set appropriate boundaries.

one of hamster_grrl’s friends at the university, who is herself a blogger, is working on a project looking into the whys and wherefores of women bloggers.

in her own words:

I am doing a research project this semester at school regarding female bloggers. I want to try to figure out why there is such an abundance of women out there willing to tell their stories to the world, and where these women are coming from, emotionally as well as physically.

it’s a quick and painless form. go. fill.

i had dinner last night with my friend tulip. he’s just extricating himself from a post-relationship relationship so we feel we’re facing some similar issues. flo was around for appetizers and that helped set the mood for the evening. after she left we got to talking about boundaries, learning how to set them, friends/lovers who teach us how (or why) to set strong ones, compassion (both idiot and not), and even the cycle of rebirth and heaven or buddhahood (to me, these boil down to the same thing).

it was a fantastic conversation. we went pretty deep sometimes and learned some things about each other. he let me babble on about things that hurt me and i hope i listened in as supportive a manner. (i think i did, but what do i know, i was full of beauzeaux.)

i cooked for the second time in my new home. wine, baked brie, and pasta. we had to resort to laying bits of string cheese over our tortellini because my parm didn’t seem to make it over from the other house. it must have been old.

(note to self, buy real cheese for guests.)

i feel rejuvenated by not just the content of the conversation, but the fact that there are people out there with whom i can still have this sort of conversation. i was starting to think the sort of deep, open conversation where no one tries too hard to do it all just right (and consequently squashing communication) might have been an anomaly of living in texas. we weren’t super new age-y out there; conversation just happened. i miss that.

this morning itunes party shuffle served up a bit of alanis, right on target for some of what tulip and i are feeling just now.

(more…)

i’m ‘in talks’ with my women’s circle about returning. the question, for me, is what is women’s circle about? i think i expected something different from what i found, and it was my fault for not asking to begin with.

but for all the feeling out of place and unwelcome from the group, i do feel genuinely liked and appreciated by the individuals. how does that work? i’m as baffled as anyone.

i signed up for a daily tarot email to give me something besides work to think about first thing in the morning. today’s brings a little reminder to carry with me through these negotiations. (really, i only asked one question: what’s the circle’s purpose to you?)

The Ace of Chalices card suggests that my power today lies in capturing the essence. My emotions are valid. I am beautiful and I deserve to pursue, share, and express unconditional love, pleasure, and happiness. I bring new love into the world. I am empowered by love and my gift is beauty in truth.

if i’m ultimately welcome back to the circle or if i’m not welcome, either way, i should remember the above is true.

it’s back to the second layer of maslow’s hierarchy of needs. (here all this time i thought housing was in the first level. guess it’s been a while since i looked at this.) i guess it’s sort of halfway between both. i have a place to live, but it’s really cold and the paint is peeling off the ceiling and it’s moldy and i’m afraid to use the kitchen after the sewage incident. and the owner takes so little care of the place that the backyard has become completely overgrown.

yes, i know one of the reasons it’s peeling is that they painters just painted glossy paint right on top of glossy paint. strange that the owner, who is a contractor, didn’t catch that, eh?
there’s a place here in sf that’s nice enough, except for the tandem parking bit and the part where my bed won’t really fit in the bedroom and i’d have to downgrade to a full sized bed if i wanted a little dresser… but, it has it’s pluses. an enclosed outside area for g, a fantastically large storage room in the basement area that would be mine-all-mine and includes a full sized washer and dryer. it was even warm in that room. i could see that becoming my favourite room very quickly.

but the disclosures aren’t ready and realtor e wants me to write on it and turn in an offer before they’re done. he wants me to take it on faith that there’s nothing wrong, the selling agent told him it was mostly boilerplate. (then why is it taking so long?) i’ve had a selling agent try to convince me that a garage was really a three car garage when it was clear that the cars might be able to get in, but they’d never be able to open their doors. and that the big crack down the wall was because, ‘the paint must have shrunk.’ wtf? obviously this would be easier for everyone if i were an idiot. too bad, y’all, i know paint doesn’t shrink and crack walls, i know car doors have to be opened to get in our out (unless you have a hatchback, which i don’t anymore), and i know better than to write on a place without seeing disclosures.

and now we’re expanding the search (again) to include the peninsula (for the first time). mount view? paul alto? meny park? deadwood city?

when we start talking about me living so close physically and so far emotionally and mentally from the city, i start to wonder again about portland. portland has em, b, and baby; h and fiance; c; housing i can afford… and also this. it’s starting to look like whatever i do i have to move away from the city that i love.

i read over my old entries and realized i’ve been tired since i started this job! renting closer to work would help with that, but then what would i do with all that extra time and energy? watch tv? teach g to walk on a leash?

to sum up: i hate house hunting.

i’ve seen this article referenced twice in blogs already today. the first was in a blog dedicated to information about drugs (mostly meds) and what they do to people. (like, i learned that the reason dramamine knocks me out is that one of the two active agents is basically benadryl.) the second reference was on boing boing.

now, there were two major reasons i became vegitarian. the first was that i don’t like a lot of meats, and the second was that cheeseburgers were the top of my list of favourite foods and i lived practically next door to a wendy’s. if i was going to stop having a cheeseburger for dinner almost every night, i needed to just cut out all meat cause without the cheeseburger, what was the point? (i consider myself a catholic vegetarian, i still eat fish and seafood. get it? no meat fridays…) it wasn’t a political or religious decision.
last year i read fast food nation. as a consequence this article in rolling stone about pig farming doesn’t surprise me, but it reinforces my conviction that if and when i ‘cheat’ on my vegetarianism, i will only eat meet from small farms where the animals are treated better, hopefully fed organically grown feed, and certainly not given antibiotics.

supporting the small farm keeps us all healthier. really. think about where your meat comes from and if you want to be eating something that was hardly able to walk itself to slaughter because it was so ill; alive only because of a cocktail of four wide spectrum antibiotics, only one of which is given to humans. not to mention, the smaller farms also don’t have as negative an impact on the environment.

i was working late tonight trying to catch up on the work that didn’t get done while our office was closed over the holidays and was busy getting sonogrammed and x-rayed.

i have the tv on just for some noise and wasn’t really following the sitcom that was playing. but then… then… primetime came on. and this show? they re-staged stanley milgram’s seminal experiment into people following rules! i can’t even explain how excited i am to be watching this!

primetime information

the milgram experiment

i love this stuff.

EDIT: they’re also going to talk about the stanford prison experiment. the zimbardo experiement that they had to cut short because of the changes in the subjects!

somehow i think the first post of 2007 should be momentous but life is really just the same as it was yesterday. i’m thinking of moving, again or still, to another town to help ease the ‘can’t afford to live here’ blues. but where? i’d love to go back to the warm, but i’d hate to go back to texas.

does anyone have a suggestion beyond austin?

i’ve got a handful of friends in portland, could probably transfer my job, but it’s cold and wet there for a lot of the year. i could get a job in l.a. at the drop of a hat that (presumably) pays better, but i only know my brother, his girlfriend, and an old family friend i haven’t hung out with since he gave me a piece of changing colour bubble gum back on nash blvd in norton, ohio.

so, it looks like portland or l.a. are my best bets. at least l.a. is warm, but at least portland is progressive and i know i like it.

star has gotten me interested in reading not only free will astrology (which directly speaks to my fear of needles this week) but also this australian guy, barry.

this week he goes on about fucktards and taking a stand. seems to fit pretty well my dealings with housemate*, “girlfriend”**, and sp-guy***.

Along their way, though, these planets in Sagittarius have also squared off against Uranus in Pisces, the grand shit-disturber of the solar system who loves an erratic, rebellious turn of events. Thanks to the tense Uranus aspects, perhaps we mouth off before we’ve heard the whole story… ready, at the slightest provocation, to toss our dirty dishes in the junkheap and set off for greener pastures. ‘Screw off!’ we yell behind us, as the door slams shut, loud and jarring. Chances are, someone is bearing witness to the ruckus we’ve made.

So if maybe we’re being a little bit rash, let’s also be thankful for the instigating act or affront. If we hadn’t heard the whole story before, then isn’t this our chance now? You’ve already had your stomping-and-storming fit. (And it felt damn good, didn’t it?) There’s nothing left to lose. Might as well listen to their side, tell ‘em everything you’ve been holding back… and let the cards fall wherever they may. But not without a good purge.

With Pluto holding court in the final degrees of Sagittarius, one last year (’07) left in its 12-year transit through the sign, every other Sagittarian body must pass through a Pluto conjunction on its way out. That means our loose-lipped, fast-talking bursts of Sagittarian freedom also hold a deeper purpose—to push the whole ugly truth to the surface. Sometimes it takes an impulsive expulsion of impatience (angst-ridden or otherwise) to raise a topic that our previous, more polite attempts at tackling haven’t quite gotten at.

read the whole, fun, no bullshit, stand-inspiring column here. 

i ran into a foaf at the andc friday. we spent some time talking and the conversation came around to relationships. i mentioned i really probably shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. i’m feeling awfully aggressive and even less inclined than usual to take anyone’s bullshit.

and you know what? i’ve really been enjoying reading now that my schedule is more open. it might be a little lonely sometimes, but i really feel lighter. now i’ve got room in my life for people who fill more than just my need to be helpful.

now, i have been tempted to yell ’screw you!’ to all three of these people, and have been awfully proud that i haven’t crossed that line. though i have been called mean by “girlfriend” for (apparently) not letting her pout, but i’ve been called mean for a hell of a lot worse so i’m really ok with that.
mean is something i’m really good at, and something i’ve been trying to avoid since i moved to cal. it’s like smoking (from what i’ve seen of smokers). i know i shouldn’t, and i know it only makes things worse, but sometimes it feels so good. i know from mean, and i haven’t been mean, except perhaps a tiny bit when i lost my temper with sp guy. and i didn’t even really get warmed up before i cut myself off there.
you other “mean” girls out there know what i’m talking about.

—

* i think i addressed this in an earlier post.

** quotations because we never dated, but i got teased like a jr high boy over how often she called me, etc. i frequently heard, “don’t you have to call your girlfriend?”

*** the question with him isn’t the same as the other two. we just reached an impasse and i’m sick of trying to “work out” what just won’t change.

i’ve never been an ‘angry’ feminist. i don’t think accusing everyone who happens to be walking past of disagreeing with you is really the way to change minds. i know, that’s hyperbole. but i do think that *looking* for anti-feminist behaviour is the fastest way to find it in places it doesn’t really exist.

however, i have always felt free to tell people they were being silly when they said i couldn’t (A)sort books, B)play trombone, C)walk to the cafe alone, D)all of the above) because i was a girl.
(answer: D)

for the most part i thought my peers were fairly well in line with what i believe about women being people first and female as an aside. over the past year or so i’ve started to look at that assumption more closely. i was floored when a friend of mine told me he didn’t think twice about my sexual preferences, he was sure i was only into women. obviously so because i didn’t giggle or flirt with all the men in the room; i didn’t dress sexy. apparently it just never crossed his mind that i didn’t do that because i didn’t want to sleep with any of *those* men for a variety of reasons beyond their sex (for example, he is married), or that i didn’t want to be seen as a sex object. that i asked him about his work and had what i considered a pretty decent conversation about science i thought would signal that i was intelligent, not gay.

i’ve also noticed a number of women in my community doing things i interpret as objectifying themselves. for months i’ve been wondering if i’m the only one who sees this. am i crazy? am i oversensitive?

maybe, but i’m not alone.

today i should be getting a copy of a book recently published in paperback. (man, i love amazon.) i heard this woman speaking on npr the other day and i wanted to crawl into the radio and curl up by her feet to listen to her talk. and then treat her to a nice dinner as a thank you for saying the things she’s saying out loud.

the book is called female chauvinist pigs: women and the rise of raunch culture. you can find a concise summary of the subject matter here on wikipedia.

a friend of mine got into a bike accident last night. bicycle, not motorcycle. she was going down a hill a little fast and some jerk face in an suv turned without signaling. she didn’t have time to stop, though she tried.

she hit the side of the suv and landed on her knee and wrist.

the driver of the suv DROVE OFF! without stopping. without checking on her. nothing, just left. hello, leaving the scene of an accident!

grrr.

she called me to pick her up when she made it to a local bar and she calmed down enough to remember she had friends with cars. by the time i got there they’d given her an ice pack and a free drink! yay friendly bar people. she was sore and just a little bloody, but she’ll recover fine.

what is it with hit and run accidents this week? there was another on the news very recently, was it yesterday morning? a van hit a taxi and the driver got out and ran. by the next morning they still hadn’t found him/her. one of the passengers in the taxi died, the other two were in serious condition, and the driver was in hospital but with minor injuries.

where is our sense of personal responsibility? where is our honour, our pride? i’m not talking about arrogance; i mean real sense of self. proud of who we are. we’re so busy running away and being defensive that we can’t care about anyone but ourselves?
what’s so hard about stopping and saying, ‘oh my goodness, i’m so sorry!’ and meaning it?

a number of questions about women and how we’re viewed and our place in society are coming up for me.

i was recently discussing with someone why i want certain sorts of women in my life and other sorts not so much. what is it, really, that irks me about women (and men) who do nothing but complain? i think they key is that i don’t want to be that sort of woman; i don’t want to focus so much on why my body is not right and why xyz is not right and why those things will keep me from ever finding a partner. i don’t want i set idea of what a woman is and should be and i don’t want a huge focus on how i’m falling short of the mark.

i really feel that the more i surround myself with women who see gender roles that way, the more i’m inclined to do it myself, and the more i do it and my friends do it, the more my future children will be inclined to grow up doubtful of their own selves.

this morning in squid’s blog i found she was having some similar doubts about her daughter’s friends.

then i read whinger’s blog and her entry on date rape. i think i need to take a walk around the building a few times.

all of this crap about women should be small waisted, small hipped, demure, fluffy haired, quiet, bright eyed, subserviant  angels in the house… it just leads to unhappy women and unhappy men.

so, my question to you… all of you… is who do you aspire to? who do you see as a role model? who would you love to have as a confidant and dinner companion at least once a week?

i got a pedicure last week. i love it. i like to have my nails done, it makes me feel that much more put together.

but, i have this deep seated idea that having my nails done is wasteful. my nails suck. they’re short and bendy and break and i still bite them sometimes no matter how much i think i don’t really want to. and, polish on those sorts of nails doesn’t last long.

so it would seem getting fake nails would solve all those problems, and it would. but then i’d have fake nails. which are fake. and take a lot of upkeep. and i can’t even begin to imagine working on the playa with fake nails. but… my nails would look all nice and put together. but, er, uh… damn. i’m undecided.

so i was pondering this all as i went down to get my chai. considering the question of manicures and doing things *just for me* even if they’re silly and take up time. isn’t that the point? shouldn’t i do stuff just for me? aren’t i worth it?

and then i started thinking about all the other things i Want In Life and how some of that i can just do for myself now (like the nails) and some i can’t and as the doors opened to the first floor a very pregnant tiny woman stepped onto the elevator, holding her tummy with one hand looking ever so slightly uncomfortable.

and for some reason this felt really significant to me and i sort of jerked out of my daydream of well manicured hands and sunny days.

random things to be grateful for 

• dogs
• sunshine
• cheese
• orange
• an orange
• flowers
• cameras of the digital sort
• email filters
• chai
• yummy eggs
• good hugs
• friendly co-workers
• not too bad sunburn
• vpn
• im
• email

what is it about a spring morning in the city? i’ve lived in sf proper for three years and still the rattle rattle rattle sqeeek of a bus passing me on a dry april morning recalls me to england.

days when i took off my shoes to feel the cool grass of a city park and still wasn’t yet willing to give up the sweater wrapped around my arms and shoulders like an apology for having to wake up this early.

i wait for the train to work this morning. if i close my eyes and listen to the sounds of trucks banging down the street and beep beep beep back up the street, then all that’s missing is the rutabaga rutabaga rutabaga of fellow travelers and the knowledge that someone has gone off to find us coffee and croissants. if i just close my eyes i can be in victoria station one more time, waiting for another train to moss covered cemeteries and forgotten names etched in stones nearly worn smooth with time.

the only cemeteries i spend time in now, however, are those full of names i’ve heard since childhood. men of legends like grandpa pete. women who feuded are lain so close that if their arms could still stretch out they couldn’t help but touch. two fresh mounds wait for warmer days when sod and headstones can be set.

and we all hold our breath knowing before spring is over we will have laid one more to rest under the tree. i dream of london and st. petersburg, but my heart is in barberton and if i could go anywhere right now it would be there.

> 5 Things

• open toed shoes
• blue wrappy thing
• white rose
• french toast
• ‘favourites’ list on itunes
• chai
• parking spot near station
• still hot water left after housemates’s shower