[[*---Still I Rise---*]]

Wednesday, April 28, 2004

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My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a

little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, teach me to
wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then, she'd

carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the

seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, never sit on a

public toilet seat. And she'd demonstrate "The

Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet

in a sitting position without actually letting any of

your flesh make contact with the Toilet seat. But by

this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd go home

That was a long time ago. Even now in our more

mature years, The Stance is excruciatingly difficult

to maintain when one's bladder is especially full

When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you find

a line of women that makes you think there's a

half-price sale on Nelly's underwear in there. So, you

wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also

crossing their legs and smiling politely. And you

finally get closer

You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one

is occupied. Finally, a stall door opens and you

dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the

stall.. You get in to find the door won't latch

It doesn't matter. You hang your purse on the door

hook, yank down your pants and assume "The Stance

Relief. More relief. Then your thighs begin to shake

You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't

taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it

so you hold The Stance as your thighs experience a

quake that would register an eight on the Richter

scale. To take your mind off it, you reach for the

toilet paper. The toilet paper dispenser is empty

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue

that you blew your nose on-that's in your purse. It

would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way

possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail

Someone pushes open your stall door because the

latch doesn't work and your purse whams you in the

head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the

door, dropping your tissue in a puddle and Falling

backward, directly onto the toilet seat. You get up

quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made

contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare

seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not

that there was any, even if you had enough time to

And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if

she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a

public toilet seat because, frankly, "You don't know

what kind of diseases you could get

And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back

of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending

up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it

suddenly sucks everything down with such force that

you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of

being dragged to China

At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the

splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe

with a Chicklet wrapper you found in your pocket, then

slink out inconspicuously to the sinks

You can't figure out how to operate the sinks with

the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with

spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of

women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile

politely at this point. One kind soul at the very

end of the line points out that you are trailing a

piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the

Mississippi River! You yank the paper from your shoe

plunk it the woman's hand and say warmly, Here. "You

might need this

At this time, you see your man, who has entered

used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War

and Peace while waiting for you. "What took you so

long" he asks, annoyed.. This is when you kick him

sharply in the shin and go home

This is dedicated to all women everywhere who have

ever had to deal with a public toilet. And it finally

explains to all you men what takes us so long

PS - The answer to the other question, why women go

in pairs. So the other woman can hold the door and hand you Kleenex

*I came across this today and thought I'd share it. I thought it was cute.

[[ Branched ]]*|19:22|

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As per doctor's orders, I'm trying to be lessed stressed, and to be honest, its not working. Among school and graduation (trying to), etc etc aka the usual stuff.

I've begun trying to get my midterm poetry compilation into some kind of publishable form...just for fun, of course.

One speaker in my class today talked about how he's stopped doing poetry readings, because when he reads, he must relive the things he wrote about, in particular, the death and horror of war. I kinda feel the same; a lot of my stuff is about certain people, and when I reread it, I'm sent back to the same place, the same feelings overwhelm me.

Part of me being less stressed is to get rid of shit that stresses me out. So I'm gonna stop hanging out with or really talking to "friends" that just give me endless amounts of stress, and I feel bad for doing that, but when it starts fucking with my life and health, I don't really have a choice. (yeah Jay, I know you told me so

)The whole situation is kinda depressing, which is ironic, because its supposed to make me less depressed, and it isn't. Yet. It doesnt help to listen to depressing breakup songs either I suppose.

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Monday, April 26, 2004

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Remember our 10 year high school class reunion? You came alone, but I was with my husband at the time. I wish I had found time to talk to you more that night instead of living up my high school "mom" reputation....but I didn't.

Remember when I bumped into you at the concession stand at the ballgame that night and you tried to buy me some hot chocolate? I wanted to stay and chat with you that night....but I didn't.

Remember that night when James and Debbie got married and we danced at their wedding reception? We were the first ones on the dance floor that night and the last ones off. I meant to tell you how good of a dancer you were....but I didn't.

Remember when I saw you at the mall? We were both taking our kids to see 'Daddy Daycare'. We sat together in the movie theatre and I laughed until my stomach hurt. I wanted to tell you how great of a 'daddy' I thought you were to your own child....but I didn't.

Remember calling me on the phone that night and we talked for hours about nothing at all? I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed talking to you that night and how much light you shed on my life...but I didn't.

Remember all those Friday nights when we met all our friends at that karaoke bar and we sang until wee hours in the morning? I meant to tell you how fun that was and how good of a singer I thought you were....but I didn't.

And remember that one particular night when I got so drunk that you had to bring me home and you put me in bed and made sure I was safe and sound? I meant to tell you 'thank you' the next day...but I didn't.

You see, you were becoming such a huge part of my life and I never took the time out to think that there may be a time when you 'wouldn't' be a part of my life. You were always so caring and loving. You were a great friend and a wonderful father. You always made me laugh when I wanted to cry and you always found good in every bad experience that came our way. I went through some pretty tough times and I never could have made it through without you by my side. There were so many things I wanted to thank you for and little things that I wanted to tell you when you came back from Iraq.....but you didn't.

[[ Branched ]]*|05:14|

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Friday, April 23, 2004

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In the morning there's this golden moment when the sun licks through the gauze fluttering at my window warming my eyelids to opening. This golden moment when I'm not yet awake enough to remember that there are things I would rather forget...

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When I can't fall asleep I sneak out to the yard and climb onto the swing that's attached to a branch of the sweet scented pine. As I glide through the night and I hang back my head I see stars and a moon that's following me through the evergreen trees. And I fly on my swing through the midnight ice cold as the swirling white clouds of my own frozen breath brush my tingling cheeks. And my shirt wafts up and my hair billows out as I float through the air and there's only the sound of the dark whooshing past. And my thoughts drift to you on a day long ago....

[[ Branched ]]*|03:54|

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Thursday, April 22, 2004

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Wow..motime changed my layout. Way cool. What's not way cool is putting off the assignment of comparing two people's beliefs until the last minute. For some reason I guess I thought it would just 'come to me' like a thief in the night. So much for wishful thinking. I think I'll compare Jesus and John Lennon. I think that Jesus was a largely misunderstood man. People believed him to be the son of God, the Alpha and Omega. But what if Jesus was merely a dreamer, like the famous and similarly worshipped John Lennon? If you think about it, Jesus and John Lennon said many of the same things.

You can go to church and sing a hymn,
Judge me by the colour of my skin,
You can live a lie until you die,
One thing you can't hide is when you're crippled inside.
John Lennon, Crippled Inside

Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.
Jesus, Matthew 7:16-18

I'm sick and tired of hearing things
from uptight-short sighted - narrow minded hypocrites,
All I want is the truth,
Just gimme some truth.
John Lennon, Give Me Some Truth

Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye? Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye.
Jesus, Matthew 7:4-5

I think that if Jesus would have known the kind of anger, hatred, and fear his teaching has caused in our current world, he would have said, "I'm going back to being a carpenter." I don't think that Jesus was looking to change the world. I think that, like John Lennon, he was looking to tell people what he had realized, when looking at things in his own way. I believe that people like that shouldn't be worshipped, and put up on a pedestal. Their wisdom should be respected and given a chance to take seed in our minds.

Being at a point in my life where I feel any form of rigid religion would be a detriment to me, I don't have an opinion on the divinity of Jesus. I believe that most of the things he said, if applied to everyday life, would result in a far more peaceful world than the one we live in.

"Judge not, lest ye be judged."

And that's all I have to say about that.

[[ Branched ]]*|13:25|

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Sunday, April 18, 2004

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What in the hell am I doing up at the ass crack of dawn on a Sunday morning ...posting in my blog? i'm super tired but i can't seem to sleep because my eyes keep popping open. the thoughts jump between how i'm feeling now and what i was feeling last night. i had a conversation with a certain gal pal and i don't remember much of what we talked about. me, drinking, and blacking out-- very uncool. i think i lose whole sequences of life this way. highly effective when trying to forget, ineffective when having a strong desire to remember. rules to live by! rules to live by!

doesn't seem to change the facts. the facts remain--the good die young-- how many more people can i lose to life's cruelity? i mean there is a point when you finally say, DAMN!! a close friend was on his way home from visiting his girlfriends father in the hospital....never called her to let her know he made it home safefly. that's because he didn't. he didn't make it home safely and they didn't find his car off the road until today. wow, i feel sorry for jen....she lost her biological dad a few months ago...and now her only sibling. when will life be fair?!?!

--the good die young

[[ Branched ]]*|09:14|

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Friday, April 16, 2004

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Thanks to that damn book about "lists"....I've grown fond of lists lately. Here's mine in a nutshell:

1. i miss having someone i love, around.

2. i miss BEING with that someone.

3. i'm slowly becoming a virgin again.

what is this sex thing people keep talking about? it sounds fun.

[[ Branched ]]*|10:45|

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Thursday, April 15, 2004

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My professor begins class by reading aloud the first stanza of a famous French poem:

il pleure dans mon coeur

Comme il pleut sur la ville;

quelle est cette langueur

qui penetre mon coeru?

Then he looks up and without any warning he calls on 'me' to translate it. I swallow hard and try:

"It's raining in my heart like it's raining in the city. What is the sadness that pierces my heart?"

Saying these words out loud, right in front of the whole auditorium of people, makes me feel as awkward as if I'm not wearing any clothes and skipping down the street. Why?

[[ Branched ]]*|14:11|

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Wednesday, April 14, 2004

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I havent felt like putting many of my thoughts into writing, simply because I'm not quite sure what it is I'm feeling. This huge stirring cauldron of bubbling boiling emotions, without having one overwhelming flavor. It sucks.

I realize, though, after three weeks, that I need to force myself to be happy. Or at least allow myself. I guess we'll have to see about making a few minor adjustments in that area.

Been "obtaining" a lot of new music, which is good for the soul.

[[ Branched ]]*|11:31|

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Monday, April 12, 2004

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Okay....it's been 13 days since my last blog. Why do I even bother w/ this live journal thing anyway???? I guess typing is a faster way of getting it all out. Anyway....my journey begins quietly, almost undetectable. I wake up one morning, too tired to have slept (to some that makes no sense) The world seems like a blanket of grey, the sky is blue, not a cloud in site. Oh well, it's time to shake it off and get through the day. Did I feel this way and didn't notice? Is it just a mood in my imagination? At this point denial is both a blessing and a curse. The day is finally over as as I lay in bed, I'm restless and anxious, yet drained from the days of activities which consisted of absolutely nothing. As I finally find a comfortable position for my body, another clue appears....tears on my pillow.

Days pass, how many days? I can't tell, they've began to run into each other. All evidence becomes clear. My mornings start off later and harder to face. My nights are longer and filled with tears, fears, and a flood of emotion that can't be controlled. Still in my heart, I hope I'm mistaking the signs. I want what is happening to me to be in my imagination. I'd rather it be called laziness. I've slid down this path before and I know what torments await me when I reach the bottom, so I try to hold on to the denial for awhile longer.

Every day I'm doing less and trying to sleep more. The world around me is getting darker. Self doubt invades my every thought. What I could easily do before the grey cloud covered my world now seems like an impossible task. I'm sliding fast now, the pit has robbed me of my energy, self esteem and control of my thoughts and emotions. In a final attempt to claw my way back up to the pits slimy, muddy walls, I gather what's left of me to fight. I think I manipulate and try to motivate myself out of this hole. Just like every time before, I lose the battle. In a blink of an eye, I'm lying broken at the bottom of the pit, where everything I've ever been is dying.

The pit is a black hole, dug into the deepest reaches of myself. The walls are so high, I can't tell if there's an opening at the top. The bottom is a muddy watery grave. The sounds include every negative thing I've ever heard echoing on and on, haunting my every waking moment. Included in these sounds are the words spoken by people that mean well. Words like, "snap out of it", "get over it", "things could always be worse". If the world could see me as I feel at this point, they would see that my insides are rotting away, decomposing before their very own eyes. Just ONCE I wish someone could see me as I am and maybe I wouldn't be so alone and just maybe they would let a little light inside. It never happends in their eyes, I don't seem any different from the person they know me as....the person who lives the perfect life.

The air at the bottom here is not breathable. The smell only reminds me of what a horrible useless person I am. I don't care to eat or drink, it's okay because I'm too tired to chew or swallow. When I'm down here long enough, existing seems to take up too much energy. This is when the need to die becomes much stronger than the need for air, food, water or even happiness.

I feel I'm lucky in that I usually get a rest for about a week, maybe two a month. I don't know that others like me get that much, but I'm thankful for those days and I savor the days I can breathe, move around, get out and be social and to hope that eventually this thing called depression will past.

Many times, the day may come when I notice that there are no clouds in the sky. I am very cautious until the sky gets black again. I'm never quite sure how long I've spent in that pit, although it seems like eternity - weeks? months? years? - maybe even more. I don't know. Never mind, if I look back and see all that I've lost by being there, I won't have the energy to survive the next trip. I try not to look back, nor look too far ahead beacuse that dark black pit isn't a happy place to be. I look at my life and wonder, "why me?" "what have I done to be punished like this?" And then, once again....the sun rises, I begin each day as if it were all a dream but living each moment in total paranoia just waiting for my next trip in that dreadful pit of self destruction.

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