poeticdesires

Category: Emotional

  • WTF

    Twitter is down. That’s annoying.

    To be honest, Twitter is the best part of my day (while my SO is out of state). Apparently it’s been down since 9am, which gives me little hope that it will be up again soon.

    Well, seeing as I have oodles of time and no rampant, instantly self indulgent, way of filling up my day…

    Last night, while cleaning up the apartment, I found an old notebook. Call me shocked when I realized it was a story I had worked on years ago. I know you will find this highly narcissistic, (then again you are reading my blog) but I had been working on an autobiography of sorts.

    The first question (insult) that comes to mind when I type this is, “What are you doing writing an autobiography? You’re not even 30!” Yes, this is true, but, as I was writing the stories I could remember of my life, I found I talked more about my family then myself.

    So far, I’ve centered on my parents, my brothers, and my aunts and uncles. As I wrote all these interesting factoids, from my father’s philandering to my relatives eccentricities, I was more interested in them than me. I found it interesting that one, all these people existed, and two, I was related to them. I know every family has their stories, so why shouldn’t I write about ours.

    I imagine, once I’m done (though who ever is with such an expansive concept), I’ll pull things from this blog as well. So much has happened in the two years since I lost the notebook and found it again, the biggest of which was the loss of Ella.

    I know I will need to include her, as well as Aunties and Uncles, but, truth be told, I imagined writing about the three of them as their own book. In fact, there is another notebook in my home office with their names on it and the opening lines already written. Like this lost example, I starting writing and then stopped to think about how I wanted to proceed.

    I found myself last night muting the television (scandalous!) and picking up where I left off. I wrote about three pages (front and back). And it felt great.

    I’m currently working my way through my mother’s siblings. She is one of eight, so it’s taking a while.

    I’m not quite sure what the eventual book will be like, but I’m enjoying the experience of writing it.

    Another little twist: I started this project right as my SO and I started our relationship. Talk about surreal, reading how we had a five hour conversation when we initially started “hanging out.” [I know that is the right term for what we did, but it seems so juvenile. People, we really need to come up with a more adult lingo for the adolescent feelings and experiences we still have to go through. Just a thought.]

    I imagine the story of my family will be intertwined with the story of our relationship, if nothing else for the fact that when I start each new entry, I speak a little about my day. And my SO is such a part of my life, back then and now, I don’t know how you can’t keep it from permeating on the page.

    Well, that helped, a little. Seriously, I’m sure they’ve already come up with a name for Twitter addiction. I may not know it, but it feels like I have it. Or maybe it’s just a learned impulse, since I’m on it all the time at work.

    Oh well, gotta give up the dope sometime.

  • Shock and Awe

    So, I’m liberal. Not that this information is a big shock to anyone, but being that I align myself with the Democratic party, I am having a hard time today. I watched Keith & Rachel’s shows from last night, and all I can think about is trying to figure out a way to stop these bussed in puppets of health care lobbying firms from disrupting town hall meetings.

    I know this may seem like an esoteric topic, but as a person who is highly invested in the outcome of this legislation, it feels like my health is being tossed about with little regard to my personal well being. I, along with millions of other Americans, need this reform.

    I understand these people are misinformed, that they are pawns of a health care industry that makes billions of dollars by kicking sick people off their rolls and keeping people (like me) from getting coverage. I understand what is going on, but I am worried that some don’t. I’m worried that the Right is going to spin these debacles they created as actual grassroots efforts to influence legislation, when most people with a brain can see that is far from the truth. I’m worried that Democrats in Congress will not stand firm in their previous commitment to the American people to help change this country. But mostly, I’m worried that one of my greatest fears is true, that no matter how hard you try and how “right” you are, money wins in the end.

    So that is where my head is now and all I can do to try to make myself feel better is to think up ways to stop these people. Here are just some of the tactics I think lawmakers should try:

    1- Send invitations to town hall meetings through the mail and require persons who come to show they actually live in the congressional district of the person speaking.

    2- Have it be a speech-only town hall, asking for questions ahead of time from constituents. Have a transcript of the meeting available online for people to read, should they not want to attend but still want their questions answered.

    3- Have an online town hall where you have to enter an address in the district, with a matching resident’s name, as the “password” to be let in.

    I know there are ways to subvert all my suggestions, but it seems to me that no one in my party is standing up to these people. It’s different if you are on television (thank you Keith & Rachel). You have time to prepare and severely lash out against the falsehoods and lies perpetuated. But, if you are a person in that town hall trying to get answers and information from your representative, and some person, bussed in from out of state, keeps yelling slogans instead of letting the legislator speak to the people she represents, what are you to do?

  • It’s Official

    We are now cohabiting.

    This past week has been a sweaty, long, humid affair. We had to move all of my crap out of the 1BR into the 2BR w/ a Family Room. Granted the two buildings are about 500-750ft apart, but half of the trek was on grass. Not fun. Besides hauling way too much stuff from one floor to another, our errands included, but were not limited to, the following:
    – dismantling the Fios DVR boxer and router
    – waiting for the Fios guy to install new DVR boxes and router
    – cleaning for 2 1/2 hours last night
    – dropping off the keys and rent checks through the rest of this year this morning
    In total, it took 4 separate days to get it all done. However arduous it all was, though, it’s over.

    Well, at least my part of this torturous affair is complete. My stuff is officially out of the old and into the new place. Nothing is clean. Everything is everywhere, but it’s there.

    Stage two of this affair starts in a week. My SO is going away to beat people with sticks. Anyone else been to War? I hear it’s fun, though if I went I imagine all I’d do is read, knit, or crochet. I’m not the hitting-people-with-sticks type, but to each their own.

    In the interim, I’m going to try to make sense of the tornado that is our apartment. My SO’s stuff will join mine once he’s returned next Saturday. He leaves tomorrow morning.

    To be honest, I am both looking forward to and dreading the coming week. We are with each other every day. It’s been two years since the last War my SO attended, and I’m not ashamed to say it sucked. A whole week without the person you love is not fun, not matter the level of freedom is gives. But, with my SO out of the way, I will defiantly get a lot done. And, frankly, I need to in order to fit anything else in the place.

    I planned out my weekend, figuring filling it up will keep me from thinking too much about the seven long days I have ahead. Saturday I’ll be spending with friends. And my mother is coming over Sunday to help with the mess.

    I’m thinking my Mom will have laundry and kitchen duty. (The place has a washer & dryer in unit. I love our apartment.) It’s enough to be substantial work without taxing her too much. I like the free labor, but I’d be lying if I said my mother was the cleaning type.

    As for me, I’m thinking I’ll attack the desk nook (Family Room). Currently, I have notebooks and papers strewn all over, along with CD’s and books. I’m going to buy a dresser to organize the notebooks and papers, and I have a rather large bookcase for the rest. This can get done, but it requires me to not be my normally lazy, procrastinating self. We’ll see how it goes.

    In the interim, I really need to start kicking my ass. I saw a recent picture of myself and wanted to vomit. I ignored the fact that the photo was of me and my best friend, who is very pregnant and cute, and fixated on my arms and my stomach. I literally said, “I’m fat” out loud, realizing we were about the same size. So, while my SO is away, I’ll be getting up and doing yoga before work.

    I’ve also been calculating my calorie intake, which has been horrible. Since nothing is organized and there is literally stuff everywhere, I haven’t been able to cook. We’ve eaten fast food at least one meal (if not more) a day for a week. That will stop tomorrow.

    So, yeah. We have an apartment together. This is real commitment. Did I mention I’m scared shitless? This is the first person I’ve lived with since my first relationship, which ended when my boyfriend was arrested and taken out of the house while I was at work. Long story.

    Anyway, on a lighter note… nope can’t think of anything. Going back to work now.

  • The Race Question

    I get it. I understand why people often ask me what my race is. But today, I wasn’t in the mood.

    My SO and I woke up late this morning. I didn’t get to brush my teeth or fix my hair before we hurried out the door.

    He was late. I was running late. This was a problem, seeing as I thought I would have time to buy my lunch before work. So, I bit the bullet and went to 7-11.

    I had hoped to find Easy Mac: delicious, easy to make, and low-cal. To my astonishment, there was none. I then spent too much time trying to figure out if I should opt for the cheap but high in sodium and calorie option or spend more for the low cal & low sodium option. I spent more on today’s lunch than I had planned to spend for the next two days.

    As I’m buying the soup and piece of fruit, the cashier asks, “Are you Spanish?” I don’t like being a bitch, but if I didn’t get out of there pronto, I was going to be late. “No,” I replied, intentionally not making eye contact. “Your ancestry, is Spanish?” He wasn’t letting this go. “No,” I said again, trying to swipe my card, grab my stuff and go. “Really? What’s your ancestry?” FINE! “Native American, Irish, and Black.” “Really?” I grabbed my receipt and left.

    I understand it’s hard to place my face. My skin is light and my hair is nice. If you were to guess, I could be any number of nationalities. But to keep pushing the question, to ask me three times when all I want is to pay my $4 and go to work… I’m glad I did not scream, yell, or hit him.

    He was certainly not the first. He probably won’t be the last. But dammit, he picked the wrong time to ask me the race question.

  • The Work Is Far From Over

    Lawyer’s Statement on the Arrest of Henry Louis Gates, Jr.

    Henry Louis “Skip” Gates arrested outside his home

    Harvard professor Gates arrested at Cambridge home

    On July 16th, at 12:44p, a black man was arrested for trying to enter his own house. No one would know about this incident if that man had not been a Harvard professor, learned, eloquent, and with clout.

    No man should endure the humiliation and degradation of being arrested on trumped up charges, let alone when the officers had little cause or explanation.

    From what I have read, a neighbor called, believing two men were breaking into the professor’s house. That a neighbor would not recognize the professor trying to unjam the door of his own home is aggravating. That police, after the man had already gotten the door open and called maintenance to have the door fixed, would question and harass him is annoying. To then refuse to give your name and badge number, after many requests from this man, while still demanding he give identification showing both his residence and employment at the university is hypocrisy most high. To then lure the man outside and arrest him because he called your actions what they were only proves his accusations to be right.

    What those officers did was racial profiling. What they did was harassment. If they are not reprimanded, fired, and sued, what hope do all those following this case have, in a country where the president is of color, when those whose duty it is to enforce the law use it to satisfy ego and hatred?

    I am sick with the knowledge of this incident. If good, hard working folks, who try their best to make this society, and the world at large, better are cast down in the mud for personal amusement and vilification, what hope does the ex-con have of reform, the poor child of success, the average person of color to just live their life in peace?

    I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to hit something.

    My grandfather was a cop. My uncle was a cop. My grandfather passed some years ago, but I can only imagine the feelings my uncle is going through.

    This situation is what breeds anger, resentment, and frustration in our community. How can we get beyond race when it is thrown back in our face each day? How can we grow as a nation when the best of us is treated like less? How can anyone say we are “post-racial” when a black man can’t even open his door without being arrested?

    Update: Charges dropped against Harvard professor

  • While I Was Away…

    …I turned 26 yesterday! Yeah me, now a year older, but feeling just the same.

    My birthday was quite relaxing. I accomplished nothing of great importance, which is how I like it. My SO and I didn’t wake up to an alarm. I watched crappy television while my SO slept in (damn you circadian rhythm). I ate a reasonably good breakfast, thin crust pizza for lunch, beer & crabs for dinner. I spent time with my friends, and we had a lot of laughs.

    I did my best to not worry or think about family issues. I let my laziness rob me of playing pool or catching a crappy movie. (Aside: My birthday is the one time out of the year I can drag my SO to see a horrible movie with me. We were going to see “The Proposal,” but alas, a nap won out instead.) All-in-all, a really good birthday.

    One thing I was grateful for: I forgot about an auction that happened yesterday. When Ella died, I packed up boxes and boxes of stuff. Ever since then, I’ve been meaning to go through it all, but the task seemed so daunting. I let it all sit in storage, paying rental fees for an entire year.

    Now that my SO and I are moving in, I decided to let the items go. I took all the lamps (5) and 15 of the boxes over. Unfortunately, I could only fit about six of the boxes on my table. I still have a lot of stuff left, but it will all eventually go up for sale.

    I have fond memories of some of the items from my childhood, but I left it all in storage for a year. If I really cared about this stuff, it would have already been a part of my life. I was just holding on to the items as a way of holding on the Ella and, to me, that is not healthy. I’ll get a letter and a check in the mail soon, itemizing how the sale went. I’m going to try to get everything else to the auction as soon as I can. It’s been long enough. I need to let go.

    Non Sequitur: I had another dream last night that I want to transform/elaborate into a story. It was odd, but interesting. The quick version: the story will center around people with the ability to send their minds to another place while their bodies remain. Yes, I know it sounds like The Matrix, but it’s really not. Trust me. I already have my notes from the dream written out. Now I need to figure out the story arc, name characters, and elaborate on the conflict.

    I will say this, counting down in your dream to when you’ll wake up, and then it happening, is freaky. For about ten minutes, I thought my dream was real.

  • So Much Space

    It’s official: my SO & I will cohabitat come the end of the month. Yesterday we had the pleasant experience of a walk through in the new apartment. It’s on the first floor, no stairs to walk up or down, and looks out onto a grassy field behind the building.

    It’s huge. Two bedrooms, one and one half baths, and a family room. The kitchen has double the counter space of my current place, and all the furnishings are new. We’re thinking the family room will hold our desks, and the smaller bedroom will be the game room, housing the PS2.

    The living room is enormous. I don’t know how we are going to configure everything, along with the dinning room table, but there was talk of purchasing a large couch, in addition to the love seat I already own.

    There are so many things I am planning and hoping to do with this place. I want to compost. I want us to eat in more often (saves money and help slim our wastes). I’m thinking about setting up an art area, as well, for all the projects I did in college and may want to revisit.

    We sign the lease a week from today and move in the week of the 24th. I was able to arrange for an entire week to move because I’m assuming I’ll want to still work but be able to move things at night. Our landlord is awesome and said he wouldn’t charge for both spaces at the same time (which I wasn’t expecting, hello little extra money in the pocket). Things are good.

    My one bit of trepidation happened later that day. I had a moment of hesitation, a few hours after the walk through, while my SO was napping. This is a huge step. This is a year long commitment, legally binding us together financially. I suppose it’s normal to have cold feet, but I found myself checking out while watching TV, wondering if I was making the right decision.

    I ended up reassuring myself that my doubts were normal. This is not a situation to take lightly. I logiced (yes, I know that’s not a word) that I had wanted this for the past year, but all of a sudden being uncertain and nervous was not grounded in a plethora of facts. It mainly consisted of the jittery feeling in my stomach, not actual doubts about our ability to pay the rent or the fortitude of our relationship. It’s been 2 1/2 years and we’re still together with little signs to the contrary.

    In the end, I figured out my fears were just a round about way of expressing how scary it feels to be an adult, to make a major life commitment, and follow through on it. As I’m typing this, I am reminded that I had the same reaction when I signed my first lease (an on campus apartment I had for my junior & senior years in college). I also felt this way when I had a major job switch (the one I am currently in). Difficult adult decisions are not easy, even when it makes perfect sense to make the change.

    I want this. We both do. Now, all that’s left is our John Hancocks.

  • My Niece Is Not Related to MJ

    After my four post day yesterday, there came the thought that I would give a full introspective essay on what “The King of Pop” meant to me in life and, now, in death. (Aside: You can thank Elizabeth Taylor for his title.) But all I’ve heard, from the moment the news broke, is everyone talking about him, praising his music, trying to step lightly on his life, and what it all means now that he is gone. As such, I feel no need to add to that cacophony.

    Instead, I want to talk about how excited I am for my best friend’s baby shower tomorrow. I know I haven’t mentioned it before, but my BFF is very pregnant and due in the coming months. Our whole friend-group is excited. I’m sure her family is elated. It’s pleasantly odd, the “village” type atmosphere that is surrounding this little life.

    I’m hoping it’s a girl. We don’t know, though. She was shy in ultrasounds, so they couldn’t tell. I think it’s a good thing, though. It adds to the excitement and anticipation.

    Having a close group of friends like we do, it’s amazing to realize that with yet another step in our, gasp, adult lives, things will change. I choose to believe it will be for the better. This child will grow up with so much love and support, I am almost envious of her good fortune. But instead, I am happy to be a part of it.

    Of course this situation has made me think long and hard about becoming a mother one day. My mom had me when she was 31 and it was not on purpose. Now, with an SO I love and care for, the thoughts of us having a child have crept up. [Aside: My landlord asked if we wanted a two bedroom with a “family room”; I believe that was a subtle question about possible procreation.]

    What I have learned, as the months have passed with my friend, is the reality of a child is beautiful and scary. Yes, you are bringing a new life into this world, which is amazing. But, with that, you are taking on the wonderful with the complicated. Her baby registry alone is intimidating. The thought that a life is now in your hands and is your responsibility for the next 18 yrs, at minimum, is overwhelming. Yes, I want to be a parent, but I don’t want to fool myself into thinking it will be easy or simple.

    And, with that realization, I know I am not ready yet. Realistically, I want to give it at least a year. I want to be settled. I want to find more balance in my life. I want to know that I could provide for my child, emotionally and financially, and that my SO and I are comfortable and prepared. In short, I still need some growing up to do.

    But, in the interim, my little niece is going to have lots of loving aunts & uncles to play with and puke on.

  • Breaking (Emotional) News

    With all of the juicy gossip and interesting news of the past 24hrs, I neglected to blog on my emotional good news for the day.

    Apartment is a go; I repeat, apartment is a go.

    My SO and I are moving into an apartment in my current complex. A 2BR 1 1/2BA will be our new home. I visited the leasing office yesterday to pick up applications, and they said one would be available July 24th, exactly one month for us to prep and roll.

    It turns out, my landlord loves me. I pay on time (well, early actually cause I give him pre-written checks months ahead of time), and there have been no noise complaints involving me. Not-to-mention, I also learned our credit rating was great, back when he ran it for my initial qualification. To give a direct quote, “We want to keep you.”

    In the event the current occupants of the unit don’t move out, which is unlikely, he said he knows of other units that will open up soon. (Apparently I may be loved, but others aren’t.) Also, he’d be willing to have me sign a new lease, at my same rent price, and just transfer me over to the 2BR lease as soon as another unit became vacant. Did I mention I love my apartment complex.

    The rent for our soon to be unit is $1220 ($610 per person). That is amazing for us. My rent will drop by $389. My SO’s would drop by $265. For my SO, that is a car payment begging to happen. We’ve talked about going to Carmax for a second vehicle once we’ve settled in. There is a master bedroom and a smaller bedroom, but I’ve already said I don’t care which one I’m in. We’d split the rent, the electric, and Fios.

    I am so excited; I was jumpy all last night. In fact, we both were silly and giggly. It felt right, this new step we’re taking.

    [Aside: During our conversation, I also admitted that my concern over his Greta Garbo moment was, in part, due to PMS. I’ve been off the pill for this past month and did not realize, at the time, I was in hyper-emotional mode. Normally I can tell when I’m letting something that could be minor turn into something major. This time, that didn’t happen. It didn’t help that my SO was vague, but I didn’t help by reacting so sharply. We’re good, though.]

    So yeah, I pretty excited. Cohabitating, more room, and less in bills = My current trifecta of glee.

  • Greta Garbo Moment

    Sometimes it is the simplest answer possible and I need to accept that.

    My SO said they wanted to be alone. That was it. They wanted to be alone. My SO didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to interact with anyone. They just wanted to be alone, in their own head, and though I would have preferred more notice and a splish splash of further explanation, sometimes a situation “is what it is.” (I hate that line, by the way.)

    We had a lengthy conversation in a public parking garage before we were going to see “Up”. We didn’t see the movie, not because of the conversation, but because of bad timing. We didn’t check movie times before we had dinner and lazed around the shopping area. Instead our night ended while watching “Role Models”, rented from Blockbuster.

    There were tears, but I always cry when something emotional happens, good or bad. I asked my SO what was the nature of Tuesday’s request. My SO said, “I just wanted to be alone.” I asked for further explanation. My SO got frustrated. It was hard for my SO to understand that, with no further explanation, it’s hard for me to take things at face value.

    This situation has not come up before. My SO, when I was trying to explain why I was upset, cited their mother calling, understanding the situation, and immediately ending the conversation. I then explained their mother had obviously had this situation happen before, where as I had not. Now that I know, should this happen again, I’ll understand it is just my SO wanting some time alone, instead of jumping to conclusions because I am left wanting more information.

    So yeah, crisis averted, though not for lack of anxiety and anger.

    I know I tend to think too much and assume the worst, but one or two more sentences to explain the situation is all I need sometimes. Just give me a little more and I’ll be fine.