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(9/11/2005; 11:45pm) - what do you do when there's nothing left...?

the outside looks just like your mom's house,
excepts for the long yellow water marks tracing the buildings,

and the smell.

and inside?
spoiled furnature, ps2s, TVs, toys, refrigerators on the floor,
and the most amazing mold crawling up the walls...

what do you do when there's nothing left of a huge city like New Orleans?

it's fucking surreal as anything can ever get.

it's like being in a giant IMAX movie with surround sound...
that's fucking 100 degrees and stinks like marsh and mold and rot.

it's almost enough to make you vomit just standing there.

you check houses and spray paint people's doors, windows, cars...
a big florecent X with information about the home, right there for anyone to read:

SPCA F/W 9-12

or
9/12
spca X 0
0

the 0 to the right means no bodies.
i didn't have to go anywhere with any numbers on the right.

when you break into someone's home, their shit is everywhere... it's been floating and now it's a giant smooshie, rotting pile of pillows and tables etc... the TV's knocked over, the computer looks find despite the mold. the controls to the ps2 or still attached...

the kitchen's disgusting, if you haven't fallen through the floor on your way there.
the fridges are all knocked over the same way, door side up. perfect photos of kids and report cards are untouched, still waiting for the family.

if you have to go through any doors, forget it! if they're cheap, they're all swollen in their frames... you can turn the knob but nothing happens. the good news is that the nails don't hold in either... so you can just kick them, and in the fall.
(sorry, i just knocked you're door in, my bad!)

if they had a good quality door, then you're not going anywhere, because there's always shit on the otherside. so you squeeze it open a few inches, enough to shine you're flash light in... see if there's anything in there, or anywhere to go. (that's my least favorite part. i'm always afraid that the infantry and police didn't get in that far... that maybe i'll find something i don't want to see, or worse that what i find will be young.

so you climb back over the fridge and the chairs and the couch and some more stuff and you climb back out the window and the door so you can take off your mask so you can breathe.

you have to wear a mask inside because of the mold...
you're never seen mold like this... it's like bread mold had sex with cheese mold and then got irradiated...
every earthtone color is streaming up the wall. browns, greens, grays, yellows... there's white spots where the mold is sporing... it's all thick, but is particularly 3-D over those places. You can squeesh it down with your finger, and your fingerprint is deep into this growing slime. and it doesn't get inside things that arn't wet, so it frames the pictures on the wall, which still look perfect. you're keys on the rack, just fine, while the mold eats the wall out from behind the rack...

so you climb back out the window, climb back off the porch into the sludge that is still the back yard.
gray dust/dirt/grime covers everything, every blade of grass... the bottom steps... the railings...
you squish-squish back to the front of the house, through some sludge, it's not water... it's yellow... and leaves a trail of jet black behind your boots. some bug's figured out how to live in it... looks like a spider crossed with a cockroach... where the water's dried out a bit there are dead fish... some tiny, some big... like guppies (even a few 3-4 inches) who knows when they sufficated... when they got swept into the city or when the water drained out.

you climb, i mean climb, you can't walk in N.O. everything is under something, be it water or thick mud or debris
so you climb back to the front of some one's house... a house you've just broken into, climbed over their furnature, kicked their doors in and you're now about to spray paint all over the front.
you pull off you're latex gloves... you have two boxes and you throw them right there, on the side walk in front of the house... coming home present.
really, what are you supposed to do with them...
my partner and i thought of everything... no trash cans. you can't bring anything outta the city, it all has to be decontaminated...
fuck, i should have been decon'ed but that would require organization.
you're car and boots get washed in bleach, you get naked in the car on the way home and throw everything out the window, with you're gloves.

i'm really sorry, to whomever's couch i walked on.
and i didn't know what else to do to get through you're doors.
i'm sorry about you're parakeet, it didn't make it.
but you're cat was still there, hiding on the top cabinet in the bathroom...
i brought him out of your house, out of New Orleans... now i hope you can do everything in your power to find him.
and don't worry.
you don't need to go home...
(there isn't anything left)

after a relief trip to NO, Sept '05

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(04/03/2005; 11:40pm) - worst/best pick up line EVER!

so i'm walking my dog around 11:30 tonight, just before bed talking to my friend on the phone...
then this guy stops to pet my dog.
he always pets her and she doesn't really like him, but it patient.

he goes talks about how aloof she is and how she's like a cat and says that he saw a guy walking her, maybe my husband or whatever, and i say, oh, yeah, my housemates walk her.

as we're trying to walk off, he then says,

"you know, i have another leash at my house, maybe you can come by and walk me."

i look at him like he's crazy, i'm trying to figure out if he's funny or creepy,
and he sayds, "kinda a lame pick up line, huh?"

to which i respond, "yeah, and i've already got enough on my plate." while i gesture at my dog.

he then continues, "well, is there a way i could (please don't ask for my number!!!) just talk to you?"

i say, "i'm not available"
dude: "are you married?"
me: (i can't lie about this! it's too weird) no, "i'm not married, but i'm very involved."
dude: "then you're not involved. if you're not married, then you're available. anything can happen sweetheart."

and i, STILL ON THE PHONE, walk away.

what the fuck.
i've seen that guy before and I totally always thought he was gay!

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(04/02/2005; 04:51pm) - right on to failure... or perhaps, sucess.

i love how easy it is to get most of the right idea, and still have absolutly no idea what's going on.
in fact, to get it ass backwards.

i keep reflecting on how i need, in general, to be secure in my relationships so that i can be myself. and somehow, i keep over looking that i have it totally backwards,
i need to be myself to be comfortable in my relationships.

and we're not just speaking sexual relationships, i'm being more general, friendships, coworkers, the whole fucking shah-bang.

i want someone to tell me that they like me, so that i can relax and be me.
but if i'm not me, why on earth would they like me... beyond that, when i settle down to be myself they'd be like, who the fuck is this?

it's really brilliantly ridiculous.

but while i'm on the in-between,
from concept to actuality...

would you all tell me that i'm wonderful and you like me.
if you're too far away to do it in person you can just send me a nice little "i like you" card in the mail, which is also acceptable.

on to getting my head out of my ass and wrapped around the moment.

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(03/03/2005; 09:36pm) - quiet...


sitting,

quietly,
patiently,
contentedly.

watching my two dogs sleep peacefully on the bed.
watching the cat curl carefully in between them.

sitting in, out of the cold, pre-spring-night freeze.
listening to soft music, with soft vocals, singing about soft and lovely things.

feeling the breathe draw in between each rib,
feeling it slide down my throat,
reaching all the way down to my feet, firmly grounded under my chair,
where i sit on this dark, snowy evening
at a desk with soft light in the quiet.


i am here.
right, exactly...

here.

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(01/30/2005; 10:10pm) - that moment

it is so amazing,
screw that, it's way past amazing,
it's fucking brilliant,

when you are spending time with someone you know either very well or with a great deal of passion and they look at you, and their eyes tell you every thing they will ever have to say to let you know that are are important in their world.

you are loved.
you are respected.
you are appreciated.
you are adored.

god it is the most wonderful feeling.

peace.
-m-

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(12/17/2004; 01:31am) - Esteem


i used to sit up late nights and watch boys i was in love with sleep.
i used to gaze down at them,
at the room they lived in,
at the life we were creating together and i used to write.
language used to flow out of me in a stream of consciousness way that some how in it's blur captured exactly what i thought, what i felt, that conveyed my empathetic understanding of the world to another through limited language.
they got it.

but i haven't done that in a long time

i haven't written words
with flow
with a sense and a style and a confidence

maybe i'm just not the person i was
maybe that was the intent of all this?
maybe that's still broken
maybe it will/can get fixed,

maybe i just have to find a new art form.
and let go.

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(09/28/2004; 03:55pm) - so, this is life?

It?s been a while?
So there?s been a boy, or few,
And some general laughter and pain in between?
There?s been some brilliant loving making and some utter ridiculous tears.

Finally got that dog,
Still lack a bike, but the dog?s scared of bikes so I may have to work up her confidence on a vespa, or maybe a bmx.
Sides, when she?s tired she lays down in hot bath and lets me pour water over her, how fuckin cool is that? Plus she?s super warm on me feet at night,
So maybe I can do with out my motorcycle?

In classes, applying to veterinary school?
?the endless plight of ?let me work so hard and give you this beautiful application with all my passion distilled into 800 characters including spaces divided over 10 lines with less than 68 characters per line? so that you can then turn me down and let me know to apply next year because first cycle vet applicants are rarely accepted.

I recently learned that if I listen to music while doing my GRE verbal flashcards, I know all the words and quickly memorize the definitions on those I don?t know instantaneously?
Suspected increased communication between the two halves of my brain due to the bilateral auditory stimulation?

I also recently realized that I don?t seem to know how to use grammar anymore? maybe it?s time to actually learn the rules instead of using that ?feeling? i don?t have anymore.

Fall?s nearly here, winter will be well on her way.
And I plan on bitching extensively about walking my dog in the fucking freezing weather, so be prepared.
(after all I did warn you)

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((03/24/200; 11:04pm) - sometimes,

on odd days
and strange night,
you meet someone you didn't expect.
and they strike you in such an odd, familiar way.
bright eyes and an sudden smile that looks
like you might have
once,
perhaps in passing,
seen it before.
and somehow time spent there, like that,
is so easy,
so warm, so fufilling.
what gifts friends can be,
and i am so greatful for them.
-m-

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(03/20/200; 02:43am) - sometimes...

sitting up late
drinking, with kids you sort of know,
lost, loving a world you barely live in...
you know,
that you have got to go in a different direction.

which way that is? fuck it...
it's up to you, to me...
but damn.
damn i have to quit my job.

i have a diffferent destiny,
than all this schooling is inclined...
and i'll do that too, but there is a different path.
if i can find it.
-m-

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(03/09/2004; 12:02pm) - silly, young, in NYC... the day before i turn 24


i alternately love and hate my job, i love my job, i hate the stupid new boss who makes me run her errands all day and then gives me a hard time for not getting enough done. (and never tells me that i'm doing a good job)
but i love my coworkers and saving animals...

oh well.

i spent some time with the ex boy, who is on spring break... and had to deal with all that crap. (you know that oh shit it's in my face and i have to deal with it type) i can't say that i did well. but i am trying... and besides everyone's expectations of me are rediculous. i know this because my expectations of myself are insane, so how can other people actually want more from me than i do! damn. what ass holes.

the weather here has changed, then been beautiful, then today on my way to work there was freezing rain... and damn, my pants were too long. heh

i'm happy. a lot lost inbetween.
a friend once recommended that i take a break from sex, which i can understand, and maybe even agree with, but even when he's not having sex, he stills spend time with girls... i know you do! aren't they just as distracting as the sex?
i see the point of the intamacy that it creates, but fuck man, all i do is hang out with a guy a couple of times and they want to buy me, carry me off to never never land and watch me be me forever. and that by the way, really fucks up the whole reason i liked them in the first place.

so i have a solution.
i need a dog.
dog or man, man or dog...

this summer, i think it should be dog.

so now i have to only figure out a few key steps, like how dog can go with me everywhere, and import my bad ass dog back from LA and i'll be set.
so now i need a vote:
small shitty car
small shitty motorcycle with side car
????

i've got to learn to ride a bike anyway, and i'm really excited.
then again, i don't really want to die...(and i do have to teach the dog to ride in the side car)

heh.

so, what do you think?

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(03/01/2004; 10:42pm) - Sorry, I have no time to call...

i disappear in to the late night, half the time working until 3am,
sometimes drinking myself into my bed, exhausted,
once in a while flirting until we get thrown out of the bar
it's all like dancing.
dancing is the most fun there is in life,
there and then now, and almost invisible in the poor lighting

then there's dawn, and you slide through that door into the real world
my laundry, my bills, my aching head, everything?s still so fuzzy,
but is it my eyes or my brain...
and my feet hurt but you feel soo good because all I did was dance.

it's the early morning, some where in some city
the world you knew so well last night blinks by,
now it only has dog walkers and bums...
and brilliant sunlight reflecting off the glass.

i'm don't know where i'm going this day,
or the next, with my tired feet and enthusiastic spirit.
all i can do is shiver and smile
and wander.

i don't know if I'm going up,
i hope to hell I'm not going down,
and i'm just going to keep trying
to do what I do ever day
that makes me proud of myself,
and makes me happy.
I was asked recently a question about money,
that made me think...
what am i saving for?
am i doing all those stupid things that will make me a great story teller when I'm old?
enjoying things in retrospect is always common,
but i don't want to be thrilled, excited or joyful after the fact.
i live here and i live now
I love me and my smile and the brilliant and beautiful people i talk to everyday.

so i think,
i think thoroughly...
about what i am saving for,
and ask myself about my dancing,
and try to make sure that i pay enough attention
to enjoy disappearing into the night.

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(02/10/2004; 12:34pm) - things you notice on a 4 train...

I read all the time here... the hour on the train leaves me little else to do, but i never want to read serious books... i read stupid disgraceful, serial murders, cop mysteries... and wow, i love them. And I kill them so fast. It makes me feel old. Like my grandmother who can't sleep at night... so sits up reading. reading so much that she has read everything that has come out recently... but she's old enough that how "good" it is rarely matters anymore... if she likes it, it's good. if not, it's terrible. end of story. she used to mail them to me, 4 at a time... like i ever had time to read.
it makes me think, about the city... about the fact that it takes 1 hr to go anywhere. one hour alone, by yourself in transit to and from every place that you go to...
what do new yorkers do with themselves? very few actually carry books, and yes many bring a paper, and most carry music... but that is somewhat regardless. what does it do to your life to spend at minimum of one hour each day doing nothing, able to do nothing and simply waiting. how does it provoke you to think? does it give you more time with yourself? or more time to lie to youself? more time to love or hate? it's like moving cattle... or picking beans... you can not do anymore that what you are doing... you have to go step y step, stop by stop. (and no it doesn't happen with out public transportation because driving takes up to much of your mind.) it's kind of a brilliant idea... maybe thats really why NY'ers are so much "more" creative... intense... unusual... maybe they just have to sit with themselves more.

maybe that's why new yorkers are so damn... whatever.

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(12/30/2003; 08:40pm) - sometimes the living is so desperatly worthwhile...


I got a letter,
a letter i liked, that made me think.

the words didn't really make me think, more the style...
...more than the style the feel, more than that, the feel it gave me.

it made me think about me,
about how i write,
about who i am.

and so i sat down and wrote back.
which is, the writing is something i haven't been able to do well for so long.

i picked up a pen, and the words made sense,
they were easy to reach for
and the letters flowed together into sentences and lines into something that gave me a feeling.
the feeling i wanted the words to create

and it was the most amazing feeling...
just astounding.
and it made me feel so free and excited
damn, sometimes living is so rewarding.

-m-

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(12/15/2003; 11:20am) - somewhere out there....

so I had some time to kill this morning,
that now has all been suddenly torn away...

I was just shipped out to Pheonix for a business meeting,
where my boss gave us 3 days out of the week off.
...are you stupid?
you send a group to bumfuck, pay 80 and change a night for them to sleep there and then give them 3 nights off to explore Pheonix when they are from NYC?

serious reality check.

but actually, it wasn't all that bad.
we went to while life sanctuary and I spent a day petting cayotes and puma and watching mexican wolves...
and then,
when they told me that they were not going to give me New Years off, great guys, thanks!
I decided i should leave AZ and get the hell out...
So i took what i had been planing on spending on New Years, and did it early, and flew to Chicago.

and now, Snash who stole my wallet to force me to have lunch is calling and my plane is comming up fast, so
i've got to go...
but man,

what a week it's been

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(11/16/2003; 12:36pm) - pink floyd in brooklyn



some times, no matter how your day goes, you get home and everything seems fucked up.
and things feel funny so i walk the dog.
(I now for the moment have a white pit bull and she's great and now, I can walk almost anywhere and people get out of the way.)
so we walk out of the house, and I feel like i am walking through a pink floyd sound track...
but the weird not relaxing akward kinda pink floyd feel
the buildings look twisted and old,
it's almost like a huge weather change is comming
and Ren and I walk toward the slightly worse neighborhood, less houses, more industry...
we make a loop and on the way back I see this little shepard mix digging through the trash...
and i bend down and whistle at it,
I'm thinking, that was dumb... Ren is a nice but very dominant dog and if that little guy came up with some attitude we're gonna have a problem.

so this little dog is looking at me, just watching, wild dogs exist all over the bouroughs, and they can be a little dangerous

then all of a sudden she takes off, running at us... (what?) and then vears suddenly across the street...towards a very very busy road
at the same time i see another dog running with her and then a big guy in a jump suit running like hell behind the other dog, yelling some blur of a name... in my head i'm like oh crap he's lost his dogs...
the little sheppard is running in terror and darts into the street... right into and under the front tire of a car who's brakes are screeching as the driver tries to slow down... I see her leg and head go right against the tire and I turn away and press my fingers into my eyes. (i have a second dog at home with two broken legs from dog meets car just a month ago) then i turn back around and see the little shepard still running down the road with the other dog right behind and the big dude running and yelling behind him. I suddenly realize (all this has only take half a short block) that the other dog is a BIG low pit and he's going after that other little dog that just got hit by the car.

i'm following down the opposite side of the street and realize I have a dog, who's all freaked too,
and this big pit slows down, turns around and goes running past his owner in the other direction...so now he's running up the other side of the street at me and my little pit. So I put her behind me and stand all big and he just barels on by...
the guy is now walking home and god knows what happened to the other dog...
I yell across the street, "Sir are those both your dogs?"
he says nothing.
"Sir, is that your dog?" he looks at me and keeps walking...
what the fuck?
what the fuck?

so we're now in an even worse place to be and there's a just got hit by a car, fucked up little dog somewhere near by...
so we check the nearest streets... Ren's watching everything that moves and I'm just lookin out for people and little dogs, and I'm wishing I had bought some pepper spray.

finally I give up and Ren DRAGS me all the way home, we run some of it just to help her settle.
We come upstairs inside and she ducks in her kennel.
she's been their ever since...and I can still hear the pink floyd.

where the fuck am i
what the fuck is going on

wow
sometimes... what the hell

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(09/29/2003; 02:56pm) - sometimes...

you go back and read what you were thinking...

it's sily to listen to yourself, your voice, bitch or sit in slow contemplation, or worry...

so today the least social of my friends, made the most social of my friends (me) join friendster.

sometimes...(may the world never stop surprising me. -you either wil.)

i'm packing to move to brooklyn, with a kid i sorta know, two kids i don't know and a very small amount of rent.
sounds like a good plan, minus the packing.
(everytime i pack i remember that i have too much shit. but i don't know what to get rid of.)
it makes me feel weighed down.

sometimes... (i dream of owning only what will fit in my car, but i need a car first)

my relationship is lost in somewhere fucking else land.
it's still happy, and caring...
it's just that he's back in the bubble and the voice i hear isn't the gent i like dating.
but when i see him, it all smooths out,
i just have to keep making money...who knew a 90min train ride would start costing 15 bucks each way.
i'm apprehensive, but thus far, it still seems to be definatly worth while.
it's tricky though,
when i'm scared and alone, i make bigger jumps.

heh.
i think i just need a girlfriend, adria, snash, you dumb sexy bitches, move you slow snail asses.

sometimes... (i'm gonna reach out to CA and drag your tan butt back here)

but now, it's peaceful.
i had some great and simple conversations today,
i have a new kitten on my lap,
i'm chucking shit at boxes...
and tonight i get to see some old friends.

(really the day couldn't get much better)

hope you're all well. in your many respective locations.
i hope you enjoy your sometimes.
-m-

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(09/25/2003; 10:23pm) - sometimes the day has a way...

So, I love but hate my job.
There's not much use in bitching about it, everyone hates their respective jobs.
There aren't enough Adoption Counselors so by the time we see each adoption client they are damn bitchy and of course we are to blame so they make it really hard to ask tricky questions. (Like do you live in public housing or is anyone in the household producing enough income to support a pet?)
Plus, it's an insane and inane buracracy. So, even if i see a problem I'm not allowed to do anything about it with out finding my manager, who is 24 and wants to be a cop, and asking his permission. GREAT PLAN.
So, lately I've been thinking about doing some other things. Taking more classes, preping for the GRE, applying to grad school. (Basically, I'm a looser and I know I don't like working for other people, especially not for those who are more stupid than I can ever imagine being.)

Today, (why do i start every sentance with So?) I walk in and the head of the shelter whom I like a lot pulls me aside (in front of a bunch of people) and tells me that I have to go it to the administrative center on Tuesday, my day off at 8am for TLC training. -GREAT!- I then let him know that Tuesday is my day off and he says, well, you should really come for this, only a few people in each shelter are being trained, in the Manhattan Shelter it's Cindy (the rescue coodinator who's job I'm applying for), Me (as in Alex the shelter manager) and you (Micaela, the most recently hired member of the staff). i.e. the only people in the shelter they probably think are worth training in customer service and the new way the shelters are supposed to be run. (I'll just pretend and let myself think that's the case.) heh.

i think someone was reading my mind. Or one of the volunteers let the head people know that i wanted to kill everyone and set all the animals free. either way, maybe I might not be so frustrated very soon...

(or maybe i'm just dreaming. in which case who stole my pipe and my opium?)

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(09/18/2003; 11:56pm) - not everything in the world is full of hippies.

I guess I've been busy with work, cuz I haven't posted in forever.

So I went to Burningman. AFter much debate about it being to big or too old or too dumb I found some people who were really into it and went every year, and I teamed up with them and went.

The desert is BEAUTIFUL! I love to camp and many of you know and camping on a dry lake bed in the middle of the nevada desert is nearly the best. The art was unusual, even if in someways it was rediculous. The art cars on the other hand were fantastic! (Even though someone did get run over and killed. But hey, they only go 5mph you have to fall right under a really heavy one... I guess sometimes it really is your time.)
There were lots of beautiful lights and naked people and music all roaming around on bikes. And more than anything else, there were everykind of people there you could imagine. Old, young, hippies, yuppies... everyone was having a great time, eating drugs, dancing and trying to keep pissing clear. It really was quite an expirence.
I'll put more creative info about it later, but for now, anyone who's interested should really go look at the burining man web site.
Also, that should explain my Sunset, if andrew ever posts it.

anyway. hope you are all well. much love from me in Chelsea, with only 4 little cat brats (3 black 1 white) who are all now finding a way to sit in my lap. take care, be well and in good health and happy dreams.
-mikey-

ps i had the fortunate opportunity to meet Praveen, oh man, how do you spell it kiddo? Anyway, for those who haven't met him, he's a damn cool kid. Regardless, HI PRAVEEN!
love you all
mike

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(07/09/2003; 12:14pm) - best job ever.


i look at animals, sick, well, insane, fighters, scared, nice...
cats, dogs, ferrets, rabbits, ducks...

i find them homes.

the whole place is a mess. the manhattan shelter is known for needing the most work. (as in, lets tear it down and start over) the AC's been broken for 10 days. it's been 90 degrees for what seems like always. they compensate with free coke and water... ice cold too. the guys have water fights. all of them, head sup.'s all the way down to the newest kennel kid. they're all 7 and running around screaming again.

i do grand rounds with a adoptions supervisor, and we find 7 sick dogs in the "healthy" adoptions room. the contagious room's full. he sighs and tells me how he hates this part of his job. he has to make room for the sick ones to get out of the healthy room. 7 animals have to be cleared, either through rescue or euthinasia from the sick ward by the next day. i nod and tell him that i'm so glad that it's his job and not mine.

the healthy and contagious rooms down stairs where things have either just come in or where babies that are too young to come upstairs is over flowing with kittens. that's not all true, we have a few cages left, but everything down there is carring something and you have to get them out as fast as you can, or the whole litter will die.

one mom has two kittens, less than 2 weeks old. eyes still shut, still wiggling furry worms with funny tiny stumps for legs. some lady comes in, she brings 6 kittens (all orange and calico), eyes all shut, all looking like dirty furry worms. we talk about it, and suggest that mom. next time i look in on her she's feeding 8 babies, now, instead of two. that's a LOT for one mom. i have two mom's and 10 cats total in my house and i'm going nuts, and they don't even nurse from me. tomorrow i'll have to see how many made it through the night.

in this situation, every baby, every dog, puppy, we pull out of that shelter is a rescue. through adoption, through foster, through transfer to other rescue facilities. and it's hard to watch the babies, so tiny and stumpy in front of you and know that if they were a little older they might make it on their own. but not now, and since everyone is having babies in the summer, there's no where to send them. Even I have too many in my little place...

it's just amazing.
and all these people, that make these choices, that care about these animals...
smile and have water fights, and remember how to be 7...
wouldn't you think it would make them hard?
how do you stay open and kill?
how do you make big kid desicions and not forget how to be little?

i absolutly love my job.
i love it.
every day i do a good thing.
it's so bad ass, even if my shoes do stink.

---

(07/06/2003; 10:17pm) - Title Insurance vs. PETS


i rescued 10 cats from the CACC where i volunteer. my boyfriend was really patient until he realized that i paid attention to the cats 4 hrs of the day and spend about 15 minutes with him. then he quite comming home. he's gone for 2 weeks and has requested that all of them find homes before he returns.

I also got offered a job at the CACC for 25% less money then i make at the title insurance bullshit that i work in now. the title insurance similarly offered me a better possition where i would make 25% more than i do now.

the CACC is in spanish harlem, with all sorts of interesting types. Titlevest is on 42nd in the Lincon Building next to Grand Central, and i work with VC and NYC kids.

the cacc has lots of barking dogs and titlevest had a boss that yells a lot.

live rich white girl times in NYC? try real NYC for people who grew up here, and see the best and worst of what they can do...?
yeah, i think i have to take the job at CACC (Center for Animal Care and Control) i guess working at a place like this was always my dream, and it can't get much bigger than manhattan.

what the hell

what am i doing?
and why am i such a nutter?
but hey, what the hell, bless me for it.

---

(05/18/2003; 12:05pm) - On an upcoming anniversary,


On an upcoming anniversary,
On which I?m not really sure what I?ll say.
I expect it with pass quietly with out notice,
just another night,
Black, slipping by?

Will I stop with amazement,
With wonder at what I have been given?
Will there be tears remembering the past,
The year it has taken to reconstruct me.

Will there be the acceptance for the B in genetics and the B- in microbio taken only 6 months later, instead of disappointment?
Will there be relief in the slowness the experience has brought me
Will there be patience, and gracefulness and awe?

I can learn a new lesson everyday,
One we all always talk about, but that I could never truly internalize.
Nothing matters in this world except your satisfaction.
Your contentment with each day.

That empty void which we all struggle to fill,
But the trick is remembering to leave it empty,
So that we appreciate when it?s not, and know what fills it.

Today I am thankful that I have so many people the care about me.
People that one year ago came to my bed side,
Brought me Chinese,
Called me at all hours,
Watched my little brother,
Changed my dressings,
Made me laugh,
Made me feel safe,
Made me feel loved,
And reached out their hands saying,
?please, please stay with us a little longer.?

So I have learned that the empty space is filled with love, but not other people?s love, but my love, for myself and for the world around me.
It is my satisfaction, contentment and love that makes me whole
And reminds me that sooo few things in the world really matter.

And i. after all this, am grateful.

I am grateful to have graduated to have done some more growing,
To have found a voice,
To have learned to give people the middle finger when they deserve it,
To tell people I care,
To tell people that I refuse to butt out of their life when it?s important,
To look awkward less self consciously,
To be a fool.

So yes, being here is beautiful,
And I thank all of you for sharing the experience with me,
And hopefully,
You won?t notice this day much either.
Except maybe, to stop for a moment and be grateful to be, and to be with us.

Bless you to all the people I?m with, even if only in my mind,
I?m sorry to all the people I?ve hurt,
I?ll listen to you, to all the people who need to talk,
I?m here for all the people who ask,
And I love each and everyone of you, just for being.


The anniversary of the day speech left me? May 26, 2002

---

(05/17/2003; 09:38pm) - poof, and like magic

i arrived in NYC.
got all sorts of confused, but mostly,
thrilled.
moved into my place,
tonight... i unpack boxes.
(it only took me a sushi dinner...)
that is, one for bobert and one for james in exchange for moving boxes up 12 flights of stairs.

i live in a cute neiborhood,
very friendly, very convienent...
very good for someone new to the city.

i'm working part time at a title company for a friend,
to learn and to make some cash while i get real jobs lined up.
all and all it's very well.
a little lonely in the evening...
a little loud during the day.

it's all and all a new and beautiful expereince.
i'm here,
i'm excited and
i'm down.

---

(04/17/2003; 05:21pm) - bitter.

so i spent a week in NYC city last weekend for a job interview...
look's like i didn't get the job although everyone i met was excited to hire me, something about a boss i didn't meet and his frustration with the fact that they interviewed me without going through enough resumes...? who knows...
But, i did find this lovely little apartment, just my size in Chelsea to sublet through October.
Yup,
I have a house! and soon (i hope) a job.
so now, I'm packing,
it's raining... which should make packing easy, but some how, it's still not much fun.
Well, there's that and the fact that my Yoga teacher's husband (seperated, and on his way to being divorced, but still husband) called me on the phone to tell me that his wife, my teacher, has been lying to him and is having a relationship with me father. (Yes, thsis is the much debated Melissa and my dad argument.) but i always assumed they were to move to that level they would tell me. since I do live here...
but alas, I was wrong.
my dad's now dating a 33 yr old woman who's maturity is not equal to mine,
and the husband involved is calling me on the phone.
what they hell?
I'm sorry i really thought i graduated past 8th grade a really really long time ago.
so obviously, i'm bitter.
waaaaaaaaaaaaay bitter.
and EXTREMEly dissappointed.
you know, some of us live with this dream that we can look up to our parents and learn from them. and some of us just realize that we surpassed our parents maturity when we were about 8 and we've just been making it up since then.
yes yes,
what was that line?
it's time to take responsibilty for all the mistakes our parents made in raising us and get over it and on with our lives?
well, yeah.
but i can still be bitter in the process right?
see you in NYC in less than 2 weeks.
love you all

excited is slowly leaking out of bitter.

---

(03/26/2003; 03:50pm) - just one of those days...

I'm watching my little brother (Luke) who's 10 while my parents are in Cancun for 10 days. Here's a little recap of how it's going.
Saturday: I let Luke play Diablo II all day cuz he loves it.
Sunday:I take Luke to the Mystery Spot, a cool thing to see in Santa Cruz, he claims: it's boring.
We come home, he doesn't really want to do his homework, so we agree to do it in the morning.

Monday:
the phone rings 4 times before 8.
the dogs each wake me up twice. (that's 2x2=4)
Luke has a cough and that wakes me up, over and over.

We get up at 6 30, tired.
Luke still won't do his homework.
I make his lunch and feed him and take him to school.
I forget to feed him his medicine-- ADD type stuff.
I take him to school and he get's there early and no one likes to be at school early.
On my way home i get a flat tire.
I change the tire and smile at the Mexican guys that are going into work at the restuarant i'm parking in front of. The all visibly sigh that i'm not asking them to help my change the tire. (Yes, after all these years, I still have to stand on the tire iron to get the lug nuts off, why am I not 6'4" and really ripped?)
I get home and walk the dogs.
I get home from the walk and there's a message from Luke's teacher saying that he's driving her nuts and can i Please come in and drop off his medicine. (school is 45 minutes away.)
It's 12 30, I have to pick him up at 3 00.
I call her back and say, no, i won't bring in his meds if they can handle it, and i'm terribly sorry (minus one for Mike as mom) i hope she can manage the rest of the day.
I pick luke up and the teacher comes out to meet me, she says if we forget again she'll have to send him home. (minus two for mike as mom)
I take luke home and yes, he still doesn't want to work on his homework and sings a song the whole way back that goes something like this: "
Micaela is the best sister in the world, yes, she is, yes she is. Micaela is the worst sister in the world, no she's not, no she's not."
With moments in between where he says, "Wow, I'm annoying, huh?" and then sings some more.

damn it!
Some times no matter how much the day sucks, or is rough, little kids just know how to make it all worth it. (Barely.)

i'll be back when the fam comes home and rescues me.
-m-

---

(03/18/2003; 04:50pm) - a moment of free time, before weeks of free time...

I?ve been working a lot on the idea that I love my friends but I don?t want to own who or what they are. I want to have enough confidence in myself to not need the power I barrow from them. When I read what my friends write I want to love them and not what to own them. When my friends sing or speak in great ways I want to appreciate and not be jealous of them.

So in balance with that I am learning? here?s a moment of what comes next.

When I talk to people, places, far away dreams, the moments that they are in are not the moments that I am in. I can appreciate where they are and what they are but that does not have to change me or what I am doing. I can still be and love. Feelings move for the moment, and change by the hour. Despite your or my angst, they do not govern life.

Sometimes I feel like I have to go. I have to grow. I have to move, so I know that I am breathing. But I am here, in my own space and way. And I am growing and I am breathing. So, despite the rush I feel inside me, my own twisted creation, I really am still doing the best thing for me.

I just have to let the sea pound on by. It can crash against the coast and I can sit back and watch it. Enjoy it and love it, with out being swept out to drown or being forced to swim.

And it?s ok to be caught up by the blast,
to run through the spray,
and it?s ok to come home again,
at the end of the day.

-m-

______________________________________________________


Can you feel it?
Slowly distilling down?
Words growing great. Moments growing short.
Meaning elucidated with out so much wasted time.
The poetry is growing.
Can you feel it?
It?s growing.

---

(03/17/2003; 08:11pm) - sometimes it's good to remember,

one of those days...

sometimes don't you just wish you could go back to a past memory, even for a minute?
I just took an exam, debated whether my memory was wrong or whether the teacher wanted something insane.
Decided my memory was wrong, answered 3 long questions and walked out to check.
My memory was right. and those 3 long questions? now utterly wrong.
makes you want to curl up in a ball and remember something nice. yucky! grr. all those frustrating sounds.

(and although i don't necessarily wish i was back there, i do believe it's good to cherish the things that were special.)
so here's my something nice...

a warm spring day, sun is nice and hot,
many kids are laying on the grass in noyes circle some are throwing frisbee's
boys are shirtless, girls are in tanks wondering why they aren't shirtless
we're sneaking in to ACDC to get big mountain dews and fro-yo and french fries
we're in big pants trying to hide out barefeet from management
we're all a little bit sweaty,
and all delightfully happy.
there are few days as beautiful as many of those...

so me?
for the next 15 min before i start studying for my next exam...
I'm carrying a soda out to the grass
to sit with chas while he reads and to watch the boys throw things,
and relaxing in the sun.

---

(03/14/2003; 12:19pm) - so fast.

so i'm studying for finals,
i finished my last class today and actually had time for yoga... (rare lately)
Suddenly, i remember what it was like to have time, to do things i wanted...
now, it's hard to study!

I had a brilliant birthday. Much love and appreciation to everyone who came... it was soo much fun. (I think we should get old and all just live here and drink red wine and rot happily together, playing croquet and laughing.)
I'll get some pictures up, but you just have to wait until after finals (Tuesday-ish).

So those ideas i've been having:
here's one
I listened to a story on NPR in which they recommended books on the middle east and some specifically on Saddam. I would LOVE to get together a reading group, give everyone a book and meet again for a summary. That way i could read one or two books instead of 20. Of course, this isn't gonna happen. At least, not till i'm old and grey. But if anyone wants to read... here are some recommendations:
these are the one's i liked:

Peace to End All Peace
Longitutes and Attitudes
Reckoning
Republic of Fear
and on a different war but same ideas:
Black Hawk Down

these are all written from different points of view. If anyone has read any of these i'd love to know what you think.
anyway, that's my dream for today, to be able to have a book club on line. (too bad we all talk to much to make that much worth while!)
i love my blabbering-longwinded-rambling-just like me friends.
have a good night

---

(02/25/2003; 02:31am) - heading home...

hey,
i'm proud, i posted on the big scarey front page. fuck yes!

and has anyone mentioned to bobert that this piece is called contribution.
not contribution(s)?
just wondering love,

pps- i got an e mail from my friend ethan today, i've known him since i was 16 and he's one of my nearest and dearest, except that he's terrible about keeping in contact (even worse than fancy), and he's comming to my birthday. (Now that i've announced it if he doesn't i'm driving to santa barbara to kill him.) Isn't it great how a simple sweet little note can make your whole day worthwhile.
Take a moment, make the effort-
make someone else's day worthwhile.
-m-

---

(02/22/2003; 11:50pm) - a little bigger view

you have to love the little things you do in your sleep...
like post the thing you already added the day before,
or write poetry that doesn't make sense.
those late night moments where you can't recall what you did, but you know it was something.

i'm always convinced that those are great nights,
until the next day, when you have no idea who's laying in bed next to you.
(either that, or when you wake up and there isn't someone laying next to you where someone should be.
that's really bad too.)

I have to love the fact that i take dare's. It's a piss pour plan, but shit it's entertaining.
I'm tiny.
Anyone out there who doesn't know me, i'm about 5'6' (just under) and i weight about 120lbs.
that = tiny girl
who loves to be silly and drink, and HATES to get sick.
(good news being, i've only been sick once ever, and it did result in me missing my plane flight home from Barcelona, but you can write Adria and ask for that story because thinking about it still makes me ill.)

So, the other night, I'm having dinner with my dad (who i live with right now) and three of our friends (all above 40)
One of them, the youngest, Tom, who has just left a long relationship and is into sleeping with anything that walks, is generally great company. So he and I start arguing about something, and we just keep pouring the wine for each other.
Fact number two: not only am i tiny, but I'm on a medication that makes me get drunk faster than anyone else.

We debate for a while, and then he suggests that he's going to drive home. Now, I obviously being tipsy as shit, know that this isn't a good idea, so i tell him that he really has to stay. And he asks what is he gonna do? And i suggest that he smoke more pot. Yup, I live in Northern California, all the adults smoke pot with the kids. So the adults all take a hit and they tease me because I don't smoke. (It just doesn't really agree with me.)
Then Tom, being a complete punk dares me. He's like come on! It won't hurt you. And me, being drunk, and used to being passed drugs I LIKE when I'm drunk, I'm like what the hell, I don't care as long as you don't kill yourself driving home. I'll smoke pot with you!
So i take one very small hit, and breath it out as fast as i can...
to no availe.
They also grow some increadably strong pot out on this side of the US. One tiny breath and in 15 min I'm stoned and not pleased. I utterly give up. I say good night, and wonder out to my apartment, hoping none of these nice adults that i usually try to be very respectful with have noticed that fact that i'm stumbling. It sucks to be fucked up in front of your folks. (I saw them all the next day, and they didn't seem to notice a thing, so they must have been waisted too.)

So yes, don't offer me drugs when i'm good and wasted, I might not get sick, but i probably won't be plesant.
(and if you realy like me, don't dare me to do anything i would regret, i'm nearly guarenteed to do it.)

ahhh, growing up, doing drugs with your parents, deciding to not do drugs, with or with out your parents...
love always
-m-

---

(02/21/2003; 03:15pm) - some more...

Part III
My dog hurt herself. She, some how, torn the tendon on the underside of her left rear foot. (I think that?s the easiest way to explain that to you. No, I?m not being condescending or that word that starts with a p and is like a father--- the one I can no longer ever remember. Damn stroke.) So, she?s been through lots of x rays and lots of pain meds and today I got to watch the surgery. It was thrilling. Drilling through bones and being able to answer questions that the doctor quizzed his interns about is all quite satisfying. Perfect day for me.

Part IV

I?m moving to NYC. Apartment finding is always messy. We had one, now we don?t we have a new one; we?ll see how it ends up. And I?m thrilled to get to be in such a new place with amazing people to keep working on my head and my goals. (Yes, Mikey is all sorts of into being an orthopedic surgeon, yes as a vet.)

But my best friend is in Barcelona and she?s trying to decide if she should come back or if she should do some more Europe for a while, and frankly, NY sounds good and all, but my and Adria and Europe, living in cities until we become illegal and then moving on? That sounds damn good too.

I think, I have to finish classes. Write essays for college. Take my GRE?s and the faster I can do that, then the faster I get to Europe, Australia, Asia and where ever else my heart takes me. Wow, did I leave out South and Central America?

Cool guys, now you know my plan!

ps i just got my wisdom teeth out, so if i make no sense, i appologise. Drugs are amazing, i was in the chair and then i was dreaming and then i was in this warm bed being told to sleep. There is nothing so amazing as just relaxing and knowing that all is well and that you should sleep--even if you need drugs to get there.

---

(02/18/2003; 07:32pm) - while i was gone....

So I?ve been trying and trying to write for contribution but lately a lot of wasted words have been pouring forth -things about my relationship and my friends and my classes -basically, a lot of shit that you don?t really care about. So today, I picked up my laptop, god these things are cool, walked outside to a beautiful chair under this amazing clear blue sky (the kind that looks like summer) and I?m going to make something. We?ll hope it will be good. So here are all the things that I?m thinking about lately:

Part I
I just figured out after both college and high school how cells store and use energy. It?s amazing! I?ve been told over and over again that cells store energy in the phosphate bonds of ATP (adenosine triphosphate) but I really never understood why. Then thanks to my really fantastic microbiology teacher I was enlightened. Briefly for those of you who hate chemistry: molecules are essentially atoms held together by bonds, certain bonds have a higher degree of energy than others. In order to have a reaction happen all by itself with out any help from the outside world it has to be exergonic (to release energy) and have - ∆ G (or change in free energy), for a reaction that isn?t eager to occur the ∆G will be positive. (Both with have a more stable conformation after the reaction has occurred otherwise they would simple fall apart again.) So the great thing about ATP is that breaking one of its bonds releases -31.8 kj/v of energy (which is a lot for a small reaction). This available energy can then be coupled into other reactions driving them forward. So if something does not really want to react you can add this large amount of energy and force it, which are how all basic things in our cells which make up our bodies work. This holds true in all organisms (that includes plants, guys.) This is really amazing, so simple, so effective!


Part II
So beyond that I?ve been thinking about how all these complex structures fit together. See: Why flagella are so cool. By me. And it amazes me that we claim to be higher organisms with great potential for thought when all these little organisms are running on amazingly complex systems. Not only are they complicated but they have been conserved by evolution and passed down into multiple living things. So who?s more important or great or sophisticated? And are we supposed to learn about being big and busy or are we supposed to learn about being still and quiet. What if in all this hub-bub and chaos that we love to live, we are really given these minds to learn to be peaceful and quiet. To be still.

---

(01/28/2003; 10:49pm) - ahhhh.....

Well, today is day three.
I'm pleased to say that it was a great day.
And although i still feel a bit weird, i'm feeling much better. So, for those people who were kind enough to worry, don't. I'm fine. I have a micro exam on friday and some serious equestrian time to put in, but in a short while, i'll continue to bore you somemore. so just hang in there.
love always (thanks for the caring)
-m-

---

(01/26/2003; 12:11pm) - well, sometimes you just have to accept it to get on with life.

So this weekend I took a really big step in getting my life together. I waited and waited until that point where I had to admit that a lot of stuff in my mind was simply going to shit. I finally bit the bullet and went back on medication for my anxiety disorder.
Now, it?s terribly interesting to me that I don?t like that I need medication for help, especially since in this culture it?s widely seen as weakness. But, it?s funny because this is what I study (all that biopsych and chem crap) and I know exactly what it does and why it helps. I know that best and most proper ways to use it and how and when it is a good idea to try to get off it. (General hint, it is bad to stop taking SSRI medication while having surgery in the hospital when you?ve just graduated from college and are moving back across the country, but you know, try to tell the doctors that!) The key thing is that for me I lack the stability and confidence in myself (no shit, really?) But everyone lacks these things; the difference is the way that I choose to deal with it. Rather than worrying and going on with my days I get rather trapped in my own creative and expansive mind. Doing anything is scary because it brings out the risk of having panic take over my life. And for those of you who have seen me when I?m in trouble, I don?t look to bad. (I hide it brilliantly.) Some of you have seen me in trouble when I fail to hide it, or know me better and it can be a bit overwhelming.
One of the last times I was really in trouble for more that a day was when I was in NYC last October staying with Andrew and Bobert. Hey guys, did you wonder why I was never there? Because I was to busy sitting in the Met crying while looking at the art trying to figure out how to put my life back together (but really it?s never about putting your life back, your life is fine, it?s about figuring out how ?not to be scared? every moment of everyday.)
Now this sounds terribly silly, no one should be scared so much, especially some one who has no reason. I have no reason to be frightened of anything: my family has enough money to always take care of me, they would always look out for me, I have kind friends and a good sense of self preservation? but still I get utterly freaked about all sorts of things.
Once when I was sitting with Kate Harrell at the diner by Vassar, some time in ?99 we were talking about suicide and I said that I was never suicidal, although sometimes I feel like I would have to kill myself to make the anxiety stop. Actually, I think I said I would do anything to be rid of my skin. And I asked her if she knew what I meant, and she looked at me real funny and said that she did, sort of. It was one of the first times I ever realized that other people don?t live like me.
So, I?ve been hanging in there for a long time. It took a lot of help and a little bit convincing to get me to start meds the first time, and this time, I was much more willing and all the help I had before came back in my mind. So I?ve spent the weekend in the bath watching movies on my computer waiting for the initial, uncomfortable effects of these drugs to wear off so that I can go back to life and start feeling like there is a purpose and a good reason for what I?m doing. Actually, it feels great.
So, I?m not exactly in the best space to debate whether or not drugs are a good idea. For me they are a very good idea, otherwise you would all probably never see me again. I just wanted to tell you about my weekend, and why I didn?t write anything grand for you all.
So that?s my major life acceptance and change, at least, for this weekend.
Night all.

---

(01/24/2003; 09:45am) - Victor Wooten is so cool...

when you're 2 feet away at a tiny venue in some pot smoking town called santa cruz,
almost like when you're surrounded in NYC by more amazing bass players than god has
ever allowed into one room before, with Victor laughing with all of them.
There are some people in life you should not miss watching....

---

(01/23/2003; 05:40pm) - So, i'm learning...

So I realized while writing for melounge, this phenomena about me having to get involved. Some people don?t mind or care, but not me, I like to help everyone, reach out to anything and most of the time put my foot in my mouth in doing so. It?s really a delightful process, and at least I often know what?s going on with the people around me.
But sometimes I think it would be nice to listen with out having to get my hands dirty. I think at one point, years ago, I used to be very good at that. It?s not my job to fix things in the world and more often than not, people just want some one to take the time to listen to what they have to say. In the end they?ll figure it all out, but having a sounding board is just such a pleasant experience. Hell, saying ?sounding board? is a pleasant experience. So, I wonder where this inherent need to FIX things came into me. Did I learn it from my mom, or get it in my genes or is it something I?ve developed to help me cope with other people when I?m feeling over whelmed? Better than that, is it something I do to end the degree of indecisiveness that I feel when I have no answers.
I know that I hate, hate, hate, hate and totally can?t cope with indecision. It?s why I am indecisive, so that I could get over it before I die and go on to the next world. I think I?ve learned to try to fix my problems rather than patiently letting them sort themselves out. Doing rather than waiting and being.
Shit, yet another age old remedy that I?ve read and read but intentionally over looked for years so that I didn?t have to deal with myself.
So I guess now that is the thing that is plaguing me most. I want answers, I want to know who I am, what I?ll do and how much money I?ll have. I want to know what my profession will be and where I went to grad school and if I have one cat and a dog or two cats, and if I?m married and if I have children. And, even more importantly, I want to know who I am, and how I got to be that person.
But that?s the lovely trick. (and I?m sorry for all you people who know all this already, just read it and enjoy the writing!) Getting to know who you are takes patience and time spent in indecision. It?s not where you end up but the time you spend creating and choosing who you are and how you?ll be when you get there that define who you are. It?s how well you deal with a tricky situation, or a major life change. It is in the end, underneath the daily chaos, the fundamental way you will choose to execute your life plan is laid in how well you can deal with yourself and your space in indecision. In choosing to be, instead of doing or instead of being lost.
So when people look back over their years and ask, have I lived a full enough life? (And believe me lately, I?ve had to think about that plenty.) What determines the answer they choose? Is it accomplishments? Places they?ve been? People they?ve loved? Children they?ve raised? I want a list, with those types of things, but more so, I want to know that I lived each of those days to the best of my ability. That I didn?t run from them. I want to be able to say that I have been honest or direct or clear with people in my life. And I want to say that I looked bravely into the eye of everyone I?ve spoken to and been myself. I was to say ?Wow, I?m 23, 35, 40, 60, 76? and I can?t believe it?s all gone so quickly, but it?s all gone so beautifully, and I am proud to own the years I?ve lived. I?m proud and delighted to be me.?

-------------

Today, right now, with all the bullshit that I admit is getting to me, I am proud and delighted to be me. I accept that things are different and always changing, that I don?t always mentally work the way I once did, that getting an apartment is scary, that being alone is sometimes rough, that not knowing where I?m going makes me uneasy, and I promise myself that I will learn and grow through all of this, and even when I don?t feel like that at bed time, I believe that it will be ok. Because I have faith in that one thing in the whole universe that you can count on, I have faith in myself.

---

(01/22/2003; 12:58pm) - why 'thank you' is such an understatement...

People from your past give you this warm feeling, like walking
into your house at Christmas- you know, when it smells like Christmas.
It's beautiful and tragic to know how few people will know you
that way. Your best friend, if you have one long enough to have them
really be best. That one person you thought you were going to marry,
before they broke your heart.
The person you do choose to spend your life with- they will
probably know you that well too, if you ever find them.
It's these people who protect you from yourself on your most
twisted days. They tell you to knock it off, when you're being an ass
and they take you out to get wasted when "it's over."
When you're old you go out of your way to be near these people.
When you're young you take a deep breath and jump and hope they're holding
the other end of the line.
They are magic. They are a blessing. They come and pick you up and dust
you off with out ever making you admit that you needed the them, or
explaining exactly how you got to be in that gutter in the first place.
To my best friends, to the people who know me that well and hold me dear,
for pulling me out fo relationships, out of bars, out of cabs, out of sticky
situations and laughing about it the whole way home.
How much i wish i could be nearer to all of you. But one day, when we're
old and full of stories, we'll retire to that old rocker and share the dreams we've lived.
I expect to see you all there.

with my love and my heart,
to all of those who've been there.

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(01/21/2003; 09:12pm) - you have to love having no idea what you're doing...

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(01/21/2003; 02:20pm) - first go...

It?s so funny to me? this whole ?green lit?thing. (In order to be posted on line you have to be accepted by those who already post.) I understand why it is important, after all who wants to read about people you don?t know or like or care about... but after writing this very heart felt introduction and then contacting bobert, to be told that I then have to gain permission from the group to share what?s special and private to me, knocked my socks off.
It?s great, I take the opposite position of many of my friends, for example, Snash, who many of you know and love, reads these forums frequently, but never posts. It?s a strict thing for her, she won?t get involved, and me?? Well, here I am, involved as always cuz I just can?t stand keeping my hands clean.
It?s just so interesting to watch people who you knew quite well change over time. I would have guessed everyone?s moves well in advance just two years ago. But time and space and freedom from Vassar? it gives everyone time to get their heads flipped around the way they want, or think they want, and all you can do is just sit back and stare. To wonder what each of them would say about letting me post, about letting me be me?when such a short time ago I would have been so confidant in their answers. So many people I care for changing who and what and why they are. The challenging question is in the end of it all are they still recognizable? I am only me and can only see inside my little twisted head, and I know that this time alone that so many of you have already gone through and so many of us are passing through, far more quickly than we could have imagined, has made me only more me. The problem I always have is that not everyone deals very well with the more me, me. It?s like as soon as I graduated I started this universal quest to remember why I am. I mean between graduating and loosing your speech it?s not that uncommon a question.
The first thing I realized is that Vassar makes you mundane, yes, you may all know this, but I was quite surprised to see it in myself. Two, your fears are always greater than the free time you have to think about them in. Since I?ve spent much of the past 9 months doing nothing but trying to entertain myself and running to doctors appointments, I?ve had plenty of that wonderful sweet free time that as soon as I get a real job, I?ll cry at the way I?ve wasted it. In fact, I?m almost wasting it right now, accept that now I have something I should be doing, reading for classes at UCSC, and now it?s procrastination, but frankly it feels much the same. And since there has been so much time, the result is that I?ve been drowning in my insecurities. (Guess what, no one can really think of you as badly as you can. After all not only do you know every terrible thing you?ve ever done, you know all the terrible things you?ve thought about while you did them.) The third thing I?ve learned is that you?re not going any where, and there really is no reason why you were born. This is a lot harder to deal with for me, especially with so much free time and few people my age to talk about it with. (And lets face it when the only people you see are your parents, they have lots of reasons why you were born which are in fact, totally selfish reasons for the fact that they bore you.)
I?m not going any where.
unless I can teach myself the way.
I am here because living is a gift that we all share, and you need company to share
and if that is not a good enough reason for you,
then face it, you were not born for any good reason.
none.
The world is a beautiful and magical place, only if I choose to let it be that way,
because I have only my eyes to see it through.
I am responsible now for all the ways my parents didn?t raise me right.
and I have no excuse for behaving as if I don?t own and control everything that comes out of me
The world around me is on fire with moving, growing, living things, and if I am
unhappy, or if I die, they will not notice, nor is it their responsibility.
I am what makes life worth living, and I have many places to be.

Fourth thing I?ve learned: (age-old wisdom I should have listened to) It?s very easy to make beautiful things come out of the mouth, but very hard to let them come in through the eyes, especially in winter, or when you?re lonely, or when you don?t feel loved, or when it?s very dark, or when you feel particularly lost.

Good thing that the seasons watch out for you and spring?s just around the corner?

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(01/20/2003; 10:28pm) - here we go...

So I?ve been thinking lots and lots about what I could do for melounge? I?m not as brave as benny and bobert to let all the world in on their secrets, I?m not a poet, like wil I?m not as well spoken as Andrew, and hours on a computer give me no satisfaction- Kev?s just some sort of twisted god, I?ve grown to accept that fact. But the more I think, the more I realize that it isn?t about quality, or quantity? melounge isn?t about being good or perfect or right? it?s about staying in touch and sharing where we are. And really, I figure that there is a reason we were friends, and that reason is enough to make me write, to fill you in, and to contribute.

Now, the thing for me is that writing in such an open space is really hard. I hate my journals being read by anyone I know, so this is an effort in being honest, being truthful and in exploring the world of things I might not otherwise write about. After all, I?m just positive that everyone cares about my opinions on everything in the world.

The most challenging thing is that this space is broad and open and, my dear friends, we are all opinionated bastards and like sharing those ideas with the world. I am absolutely terrified of writing for any of you, one, because you are all brilliant writers and you went to whatever grade I skipped where they teach you grammar (like where, commas, go, and, why?) and two because I take everything you?ve all ever said to me to heart. So perhaps when reading what I?ve added to our little world, just remember that I am small and female and care way tooo much about everything in the world. I?m not telling you that you can?t shit on whatever I write, hell, destroy it, only what I?ll think more and better, but just remember I?m me, and if you don?t like it, don?t read it.

Since I have to justify everything I do in the world, there?s my little disclaimer.

Welcome to my (truthful) world.
enjoy my contribution?

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