Thursday, June 30, 2005

Emancipation from the Rut

I was so certain that when I woke up yesterday morning that I would be exausted and distressed. One month is not alot of time to find a quality roommate. Instead I felt very light, and had a wonderful trip. This is a really good thing that Emma is moving, we were in a rut.

Here's the thing, Emma and I didn't really hit it off when we met. I was not particularily fond of her, she rarely smiled and seemed to have alot of difficulty being warm. In her defense I was severely depressed when we met, I don't think I was medicated at the time, and we were living in an awful apartment.

The "senior" roommate had lied and said that there was someone living there who was trying to quit drinking. I took this to mean we couldn't keep alcohol in the house and that this roommate would sometimes be cranky. He wasn't trying to quit, he was a full on, bum on the street wino. (A great story, I must post it someday) Obviously, the "senior" roommate turned out to be a major enabler and very hard to live with. Even so I was bound and determined to stay, because of school I had moved far too much in the past years and had no desire to go anywhere. Emma decided to go. She and I had sort of bonded because of our mutual love of all things south asian, as well as being mutual voises of reason in an insane enviornment. While helping her and her friend look in the paper I got struck "I want to go too!" so the 3 of us planned to move, her friend's life was a little up in the air so she dropped out, so it was just Emma and I.

A few days we were to turn in our deposits and sign our leases she kept reminding me about it. I told her it pissed me off that she would think I would screw up such an important thing, I may be a bit air headed but when something is important I come through. Then, it turned out because it was a sunday or something my paycheck wouldn't come until the next day, so I borrowed money from my Grandma. I had with me some things that my Grandma had given me, when Emma asked what they were I made up some lie, because the last thing I wanted was to validate her bullshit lack of faith in me. After that day I suggested she do the bills and I pay her (I certianly didn't want that kind of attitude every month!) and she of course loved the idea (I would screw it up after all.)

Things went okay. I took the small room, because I knew it would make her happier. And we did okay. She has always been a bit arrogant, but I could deal with it. In a way, her arrogance was something I liked about her. She was very sure of herself, a woman who doesn't shave her legs, pluck her eyebrows, wear makeup, or use toothpaste very often. I thought that was cool, women are always valued by their appearance, and she didn't fit the mainstream mold, yet she felt great about her appearance and strongly about her opinion, which I thought was awesome. And besides that, she is a TON like me, so having someone similar to me think she is all of that made me feel complimented. The thing we didn't have in common was our way of interacting with people. I think it's nice to make people feel good, she seems to find that artificial, and so she comes off at times as very, hmmm...bitchy. I still like that about her because she is so, well...unique and sees no reason to change.

On my birthday she met a guy, and my opinion changed of her (or should I say I cared less about her at that point.) He started out okay but some minor jerky things started happening. We would talk about it and everything I would say she would contradict, everything. Even when she was saying the same thing. I just decided to tell her what she wanted to hear, which is really a step back from true friendship- if you care about someone you tell them what you truly feel, because its their best interest that you care about most. He ended up making her cry every other day and finally eventually they broke up. This isn't the first time that she blew off my opinion. There have been plenty of times that I have suggested something and she would disagree until someone else said it, or would attribute something I told her to someone else (heaven forbid a bubbly girl could say something intelligent) I realized this with the boyfriend situation.

Most of our living together was peaceful, but there was tension. My biggest problem with her was her problem with me. She would get upset about things that weren't fair, she wouldn't give me the benefit of the doubt, or she would get annoyed about clutter in the house, but not clean it up, just leave it there and be mad about it. And my biggest pet peeve is how helpless she was at times. There is a table where we put the remote controls, if a remote wasn't on that table she would ask me where it was, not even trying to look for it, and it would be on top of the TV.

When she was considering going to grad school in Timbuktu I realized how much I actually do like her and told her I wanted her to stay, (I said "If you move I'll die") but I said it hyperbolically so she would know that I support her either way. She never told me her choice about Timbuktu, I had to guess about it. And she only told me about her plan to move to a single the day before yesterday, giving me only a month to find someone (did I mention AHHHHHH! ?)

That said I now feel liberated, emancipated. First off she thinks she is smarter than me. She has a right because she got good grades in school, but over time I have determined that all things equal (parental involvement- life stability) we are about the same. She has an impression of who I am, and even if that isn't who I am it may have been based on who I was when we met. I know that isn't going to change. The way she acts with me (polite, but a bit tortured about it) pisses me off because I am sort of painted into a corner where the only way I can act is the same way with her (When I am relaxed and a bit bubbly she gets sort of taken aback) Living with someone who sees me that way cant be good for me. And its not good for her to live with me either. I am sort of coldly indifferent to her feelings as a reaction to how she unfairly percieves me, so I am not proactive in making her happy, I only go out of my way if it is to shut her up. (that is a bit of an exagguration, I am nice to her- I am mildly messy however)

Emma moving is good for both of us. I don't imagine we will be friends, mostly because trying to have a conversation with her is torture when she wants it to be (one word answers, contrary for no reason) but maybe we will like each other more when she is gone.

mood: light

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

When life becomes tough, the tough become life

Thats a Pakistani phrase my ex once translated for me. I like it because it doesn't get that billy ocean song in your head, even though it's in there anyway.

I layed in bed but know I won't be able to sleep tonight, so why lay in bed stewing in anxiety? If I am up I can work on the ad for a new roommate. Or at least get my thoughts in order.

This couldn't have happened last month when I had 4 days off a week? No, it all has to happen tonight, right before a 2 day (I just did a 3 day) and I will only have 2 days off after, too much usually. And why the fucking phone? If I could have my cell with me I could get stuff done while gone, FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!

Fuck fuck fuck

I am fine with her moving, mostly because I have had plenty of emotional time to prepare, but she wants to move in a month (could have told me sooner) and why today? WHY? AHHHHHHHHHHH And I am really not excited about adjusting to a new roommate, or them adjusting to me. I liked having an introvert, someone who didn't want to be all up in my life, but still......

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH is all thats in my head. I feel like running in a circle. I don't want to do this much yet, I just want to scream. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Okay, I guess I am not becoming life like I should right now, I just don't know where to start. I should tell her I need 2 months, the chances of getting a quality roommate in one month are really decreased. I don't even know what to post for rent cost. WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Money was just getting better, so much was getting better. Ahhhhshafglksjerh gakrignh v;


when it rains it pours

Well my phone is dead

My roommate is moving

Lost a friend- this time for good

and I have to work tomorrow- early

mood: thankful for medication

One (comfortable) step closer to "Sky Hag" status

I can't believe what I just did. I just bought
sensible shoes. All in all my shoes are pretty
sensible, but I am talking looks-like-slippers,
grandma-ugly sensible shoes.

I tried this pair on during a long sit last week, when
I put them on I felt like I was standing on a pillow-
they have little egg crates inside :) But I was NOT
ready to step into that level of
form-following-functionality, I walked around the
store, feeling as if I was in heaven, but decided
instead to find a better looking pair somewhere else.

I bought a $5 pair at goodwill to last me one trip
until I had time to go shopping, seeing my blistered,
red toes was all I needed to know the egg-crate shoes
are the ones for me. I tried some
cuter-yet-still-comfortable ones on, but chose these

Why would a woman do such a thing? I can see an old
married woman wearing these, but a young vibrant
single gal like me should be in 3 inch fuck-me heels.
I am looking at it like suntanning, it looks pretty
now but makes you look ugly later on. Have you seen
fashonista feet as they get older? Deformed. I am not
kidding- daily wearing of high heels and pointy toes
make feet look fucked up (and less importantly hurt
like hell I imagine)

I decided that having ugly feet will be compensated by
my energy and attitude. I have been complimented many
times on my smile, but have yet to be complimented on
my uncomfortable work shoes. And when I wear
comfortable shoes I am more likely to walk instead of
taking the elevator or tram, so I think it is more
attractive for me to have a nice body in ugly shoes
than an ugly body in nice shoes.

So whats next? Mom Jeans?

mood: practical (too young to be thinking this way!)

Saturday, June 25, 2005

don't kill kittens

13 year old supermodels and hairy white thighs

I am in the northern part of my state right now at my aunt & uncle's house. This is the city I went to college in, absolutely beautiful, but with only about 89,000 people, too small-town for me. What I miss (even though my city is great for things like this) is the nature. Today we went to an art fair and went swimming. The parking was bad around the fair so my uncle dropped us off with their boat the "Northern Lights!!!" On the way there I rememebered hiking in the woods past the park, and skinny dipping in the red waters of the lake. I had to leave this city, I just didn't belong- but my family and the nature was what kept me for so many years.

Yesterday we saw my cousin (my #1 suicide preventer) in a "broadway camp" recital. It was so fun. My cousin is 13 and 5'10". She looked like a supermodel dancing with a group of 7-14 year olds, she was great. My only complaint was seeing my little baby cousin singing a line from a "Hairspray" song... "now I like to hang around with teenage boys" I could have done without that, but what are you gonna do?

After the show we had a barbecue at my Aunt & Uncles. Another aunt came to the BBQ with her 2 kids and after the barbecue we had a fire in their awesome portable fire pit (I MUST get me one of those!) We talked a long time that night and my aunt said she has seen wonderful growth in me in the last 6 months. I told her about the blog, and that I also think it's because of the museum, seeing that there are other people who think like me. My "weird" way of thinking is called by some people "creative" or "thinking outside the box" the blog and access to the artwork have exposed me to and validated that.

The most unhealthy thing about me is my self image. I have told myself that even my good qualties are flaws, and if something is so good that I can't deny it's an asset I tell myself how it could be better. How can I ever overcome depression if no matter what I do I tell myself I am a failure? Why will I continue to try if thats all I hear from myself? I have been fortunate to get positive reinforcement but for years I was able to filter and twist that too. (I am getting better at listening now- finally!)

I take a normal human foible that nearly every person has and say "Look! people with this mental disorder don't eat healthy food, I don't eat healthy food- I must have that disorder!" I stomped into my therapy appointment yesterday with the description of a mental illness telling her "Oh my god I have this" By the end of it she was laughing at me. I also asked what was the name of the mental illness where you want to rescue other people and she said "compassion." I walked in an unbalanced person with 4 mental disorders, and I walked out a caring person with only 3. That must have been the best therapy appointment ever :)

Dr. T also described something called Transactional Analysis. It was really cool. It was about how you interact with people Adult to Adult, Child to Adult, and Adult to Child. This is SOOOO descriptive of something in my life that I couldnt put my finger on. I interact with many people as Child to Adult, since I have felt, for as long as I can remember, feeling like everyone knew something I didn't know (most of them did- most of the people we interact with day to day were parented) When I am under or un-medicated I interact with more people that way- I feel chronically unequipped to make quality decisions so I give others more creedence than they may deserve. This also describes a big problem I have with relationships. It always seems to be Adult to Child or Child to Adult, I rarely seem to find the adult to adult dynamic- and I am creeped out by the other two so I usually bail. I think alot of this is because my mental development was accellerated (and arrested) when my mom died and so it's hard to relate eye-to-eye with any age group. For whatever the reason is I love having a name/framework for this gut feeling I had.

I have had a nice time up here, even though I was not 100% charming and entertaining like I expect myself to be. That is something I need to practice. I am not "on" all of the time, but I need to live my life anyway. I didn't feel high on love the way I did at my dad's birthday party, but thats okay, I am still surrounded by it.

mood: calm :)

Social Phobia update!

I was in a borrowed ill-fitting swimsuit with plump, white, hairy legs today (sexy image right?) and felt little to no social phobia. There were many attractive college kids around yet I didn't have that sense that they were all looking and whispering about me. And even if they were (I would have been ;)) I didn't care :) I was unwilling to walk down to the art fair without putting back on my jeans, but thats okay- baby steps :)

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

ice cream cones are better than bowls

Every day is an ice cream day, but today is a BIG TIME ice cream day!

I didn't take my medication last night because I was already in bed (on a loft) and I thought it wouldn't be a big deal- I could take it when I got up to go to the bathroom- but I never remembered. My day went okay- I didn't feel like I did around my birthday or anything, but then I went off the deep end.

I was on Spider's blog trying to do a "communication experiment"- it was as dorky as it sounds. (no, thats not even the deep end) well I am sitting there doing a rediculously dorky thing and that is pointed out (actually no one really said dorky, they said "funny" -which it was) and you would have thought I was an 8 year old in a schoolyard I was so upset...I realized soon enough that I was being silly, but felt bad enough that I wanted to leave the situation. I made a joke about it and even though I knew it was stupid I took a shower and felt all pitiful and hurt. When I got out to put on deodarant I remembered about my medication and took it.

Emma has friends over and everything she said stung like she has just bullied me intentionally. Emma responded to something in reference to me with "I don't know" ooh! how harsh! and I felt genuine offense! The experience today was yucky. Spider also got shook up from the process, she was seeing it as making up with someone who she percieved meant her harm, and I couldnt tell she was getting more and more upset until it was all over.

In spite of all the unpleasantness I sure got a reminder of how I am without my medication! Remember when the curator was so snotty to me in the museum library? At this point I don't know if she actually snubbed me or if she was having a bad day. I can't believe I was spending every moment of my life this upset and seeing it as being normal! (well I knew it wasn't normal but I thought it was just the way my life is) I can see, from the fact that things have changed since I have increased my dosage- that this is how life should feel! It should feel hard- not uphill! A month ago when I woke up and saw the houseplant in my room I felt dread at the sight. The houseplant meant I was awake and had another uphill battle ahead of me. Now I am not excited to get out of bed for work, but I do and I get there...and I have been waking up on my days off at the early dawn hour of 11:00 instead of my noon to one wakeups a few weeks ago.

The house is filling with people. I am typing on the computer instead of sitting with them and chatting about people I don't know. I am sure I seem like a dork but my medication has kicked in so I am okay with that- not bawling in the shower. I am so glad I am in counseling and that I have medication.

I am also glad I have ice cream. And ice cream cones. Ice cream cones are better than bowls. With a bowl you can eat 3 big scoops in 10 minutes and hardly notice you had any. With a cone you have to lick and savor it. If you have 2 ice cream cones (the equivalent of a large bowl) you feel decadant and wonderful.

mood: decadent

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Original Poetry Written By Grandmaster Crab

I had a lovely trip. My crew was fun, my days were reasonable, and I spent my first night ever in NYC!

I reflected a bit on NYNDM on the way there, but once I arrived he was instantly off my mind. We didn't get to go anywhere but the hotel but it still felt different. I loved the place. It seemed like any other place in the world, but more so. The people seemed so...well, normal! For one, everyone wasn't white, like in my state (we DO have more than just white people in my state...I know, I met both of them.) And people were expressive and flamboyant (not like the reserved scandahoovians I am surrounded by here)

I was so enamored by my glimpse of the city that I wrote an original poem written by me:

New York, New York
Big city of dreams
but everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You might think it's cool if you come from out of town
But I'm down by law and I know my way around
Too much
Too many people
Too much
Ta-Too much
Too many people
Too much!

This original poem written by me has been going through my head for the last 2 days :)

mood: fugedaboutit


Saturday, June 18, 2005

I recognize I have a hand in my destruction

Yesterday I was feeling a little resentful that I had to go to my Grandmother's (dad's side) house today. I wanted to stay home since I had to work tomorrow. I went, my Aunt and 2 cousins were in town, so I knew I had no choice. I can't put in to words how it felt. I was surrounded in the warm embrace of family. It was my grandmother & grandfather, two aunts, my dad, and 2 cousins.


I got my dad a subscription to International Design (I .D.)magazine. A good choice. He was impressed by the choice and really seemed to appreciate it. I had a mug with mainline's airline logos over the years. He used to be a partner in a graphic design firm and expressed displeasure with the new logo, pointed out from the design perspective how poorly done it was, especially since the prior logo was really excellent.

The best part of the trip was my cousins. A 14 year old boy and a 16 year old girl. These kids were phenomenal. They live outside a small city in Kentucky, yet they are less homophobic than me, a city kid, was at their age! They were really informed and open. I can't even begin to express how amazing these kids were! Oh, and they loved me. Both of them have puberty pouring out of every pore. The boy was showing off, talking about his martial arts. And the girl was just like me at her age...her eyes were on a constant boy hunt. She expressed genuine disappointment that it were only 2 cute boys waiting to see a Hod Rod parade. She seemed to jump out of her seat when I wanted to "talk" about her boyfriend. I think it's partly because her mom is a bit harsh (I experienced it personally when I was 13) but I think it's also because I am such a non-intimidating sounding board for that sort of thing. I feel unbelieveably privledged to to have them adore me so much (they almost literally followed me around- I ADORED it though- and ADORED them!)


I felt very "normal" this afternoon with my family. My grandpa's old and changes the subject while someone is telling a story. My dad (who's 54th B-day was today) told me and my cousin he was 59- and then didn't tell us afterwards that it was a joke and he insisted on cutting the cake while it was still lit. My aunt (cousins' mom) was cantankarous and sarcastic- but none of it felt sad and crazy, it felt kooky and hilarious- which on a good day- like today- is what our family is.


I am in a safe place, and my dad is taking medication and not drinking- so going there feeds me not drains me. I make the choice not to visit my family on either side (it was a healthy choice when my dad was sicker) but now that choice adds to my depression. It seems so crazy that I have a family, yet I crave family so much. I know there was a reason I distanced myself before and that served me at the time. But the situation has changed now, so the healthy choice is for me to change, and involve myself in their lives (and involve them in mine.) I am thinking creating a public photoblog would both welcome my family and friends into my life, and will allow me get to publicize local events and locations.

What a marvelous night. Oh...and did I mention that a very sweet pilot called me? A very sweet pilot who literally may have SAVED A PERSON'S LIFE!!!!! (An elecric scooter began to fall off a platform, and the pilot pushed a guy underneath it out of the way- and broke his own collarbone in the process! What a guy!

mood: safe (never imagined myself saying THAT!)

Happy Retirement!

I have 1st year med student disorder. Or maybe call it hypochondria.

Now, now dont get the wrong idea, this is more of a quirk than anything serious. I just get a little dramatic when something unusual happens. I see a symptom, I get concerned that I have something serious that has that symptom. It's not like I go to the doctor very often (but if I had my druthers) I just prefer to be as not sick as much as possible.

So when it comes to mental illnesses, you could imagine how freshman psych was for me. At the psychiatrist visit the other day the psychiatrist almost had to say "no, you don't have OCD, you don't have PTSD, you don't have ADD" you'd think I WANT to have all of these illnesses I cling so tightly to the tinyest trait. Which is why I know I don't have a personality disorder.

I couldn't explain what they are, I really don't know much about them, but I know one thing...I don't relate. 3 years ago I sat in a special psychiatric urgent care office and explained how I was feeling. I wanted my life to end. I was very mad. Seething mad. The benzodiazapine that had allowed me to study, and had briefly revealed the possibility of completing my dream of finishing school had been stopped, because a new Nurse Practitioner I visited decided it was too controversial.

I had been a good girl my whole life. I may have had a little sex and smoked weed 5 or 6 times in my life but I always did "the right thing." I always listened to adults, followed rules. Even when I was being naughty and rebellious I felt guilty about it. I felt like I should win awards I tried so hard, and what did I have to show for it? Nothing. And at that very moment, "nothing" was what was ahead of me. I had it drilled into my head from as early as I remember, how shameful it was to not have a degree. Having experienced, from the Ativan, what it felt like to be able to study, I knew that a degree would never happen- and so all I had to look forward to was "nothing"

I had this strange feeling that was hard to explain. I wanted to be bad. I think I wanted to punish the world for taking every ounce of my energy and returning nothing. My heart felt very "punk" and not all this pansy-ass new mellenium punk I am talking nasty skank heroin punk. The person listening to me heard me explain these feelings and I think thought I was "anti-social" (which is how I felt at the time) and diagnosed me with an unnamed "personality disorder"

I am opened minded, and I know something is wrong so I take suggestions, but that never made sense to me. I even brought it up to the woman, and she said "oh that just means you have learned some unhealthy things that need to be unlearned" or something like that. My therapist thought it was a "trendy diagnosis" and perhaps irresponsible. The psychiatrist agreed, and said that they saw me for one day feeling very angry, and assumed it was a pattern.

The title and subtitle of my blog read like this:

The sometimes profane personal diary of a woman with Social Phobia, Depression, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, A Personality Disorder(!?) and Suicidal Tendencies. Good times.

But today I retire the "Personality Disorder" from the title.

Please send cash in lieu of flowers

mood: disorderly

Friday, June 17, 2005

I want to Entertain Mr. Sloane

His name is Justin Kirk, and there is nothing I want more that to kiss him, and have to turn my head, because his nose is so fucking huge.

I love you Justin.

I will marry you even if you are gay.

Deep post

I had an earth moving experience hearing the artist Kara Walker speak tonight. I wrote most of a post on it and then closed the browser without saving it.

The man from Richmond decided to grace me with an e-mail. A WEEK AND A HALF LATER. He's just not that into me, is he?

mood: Oh! SOOOO privledged! (ass)

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Wishes come true, Prayers get answered

I walked home today from the gym, I got a membership today.

Two years ago I wished for this. I wished I could afford a gym membership or a cell phone membership or cable internet. Today I have all three.

Two years ago I wished I lived in a nice apartment or in a nice neighborhood. Today live in a nice apartment in a nice neighborhood (with inexpensive rent!)

Two years ago I wished I could break even. Today I have no debt but student loans, and I have money left over at the end of the month for entertainment.

Two years ago I wished I was beautiful, no one would even look at me except men with a fat fetish. Today I have lost 25 pounds and am passibly attractive. More importantly my energy has doubled (Thats like carrying a set of 12 pound dumbells with you everywhere you go!)

Two years ago I wished it was easier to get to work, it took me 2 hours and required 3 buses, which dropped off and picked up in depressed neighborhoods. Today I take one bus, that picks up a block from my house, and connect to a light rail train, and the whole process only takes an hour- less than it would with a car!

Two years ago I wished I had something to be proud of, to have accomplished something. Today I can say I had the courage to apply for the flight attendant job and the tour guide position, even though I didn't think I would get either one, but I did.

Two years ago I wished I had trustworthy, friends. Today I have them and see them regularly. I had them back then too, but I was
too busy wasting my time with trendy assholes.

Two years ago I wished I had peace of mind. If all of these wishes came true, maybe in two years I will have that too.

mood: blessed

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

If you are drunk and feel like commiting vandalism, please spraypaint a building or something, please don't hang from a fucking tree and kill it

I am pissed. While I was walking to the drugstore tonight some drunk asshole killed a tree. Mischief can be cute, but killing a tree? Come on. Otherwise it was a pretty good night. Myself, my sister Linda, and her boyfriend Tony went to a play. It was a preview, and I got comp tickets because of the museum (woo hoo!) The play was fun.

I got all hot and bothered at the beginning, the main character was so sexy. Now don't think I am some sort of nympho, it was his character, and the scenario. The play is centered around a sexy young guy who uses his hot-stuff bod to get through in life. Maybe him and the female character had genuine chemistry, or else they were very good actors, because I felt that tension you get when the chemistry is really strong. That scene made me very motivated to go to the gym!

First thing when I got home I rented a movie this hot actor was in, I can't wait to see it but I will wait until tomorrow because it is long and I imagine it will make me cry. (also I bet his character will be gay. I think that is hot, but I wan't to imagine him straight...just for tonight ;) )

The SEXY character comes to rent a room from a widow. He flirts and shakes it and gets her all excited, and she ends up fawning over him while he lives there. In the play they fuck, but this still reminded me of an old roommate. Well he wasn't even a roommate, he was a cokehead who slept in my roommate's room.

I will call him Nathan Toddson. He was a spoiled fucking rotten trust fund baby. His parents got him an internship at the pentagon and this little fucker blew it, just like he blew everything (literaly, he was a cokehead) He dated my roommate and cheated on her with the saddest girl ever (she felt sad about scars from a breast reduction, because it meant she could never be a stripper) and I know she had some drug addiction but I forgot what.

He claimed to have quit drugs and needed a place to stay to get back on his feet. He had been kicked out of the last two places he had stayed, one because he tried to commit suicide by OD'ing, the other because the girl he was staying with (and I am sure was fucking) got jealous and possesive of him. All of these characters involved worked at the Steakhouse with me.

My roommate Jennifer had quit HEROIN, seriously, she had! And so I think she had a big heart about it. I was okay with it because it meant it would lower my rent. And I too had a big heart about it. Everyone had a big heart when it came to this guy, he was just so georgeous. Beautiful. Absolutely Hot. He had the ability to tug on my heartstrings, he talked about his feelings and his depression, and anyone who reads my blog can guess how much I wanted to encourage him, especially since I still had suicide as a plan b at the time.

I was really attracted to him, he seemed attracted to me, but I was 210 pounds at the time, so I wonder if he, like the character in the play, just knew how to make a person feel sexy. I know if I had let it something could happen, but I wouldn't, EVER, okay, I would if no-one I knew knew him, but otherwise I wouldn't EVER! He kissed me on the back of the neck once, when he was drunk. I just laughed and said get the fuck off me shoving him away, but someone that georgeous, no matter how sleazy and loserish they are, is really hard to not desire.

That fucker disrespected our house so much. He used my pencil holder as an ashtray, he snuck into my bathroom and took all of my metabolife pills (I used it as speed once when moving) and worst of all (I still am mad about this) he taped PORN over irreplaceable broadway shows that NYNDM gave me! Those were reason enough to kick him out, but he was manipulative and pretty sad. One night he had people over and was smoking weed in the apartment. We had a security guard who walked the halls, for the love of god when you are staying at someones house to quit drugs, please keep your drug use outside. I told him that night to be out by noon the next day, when he left for work in the morning without his stuff I put it on the patio. When he got back I wouldn't even let him in to talk about it. It felt really good. Both my roommate and I had wished we had done it sooner. The play ends differently than the Nathan Toddson story does, the landlady sister and her brother decide to share him, they take turns getting to fuck him for 6 months each.

Before the play we went to a resturaunt and I lost my virginity again!
IAteBisonI ate Bison!

The waiter was cute, and he acted like he liked me. :) I told Linda not to give him too big of a tip, I didn't want to encourage playing with girl's hearts for money. I am never going back to that resturaunt, I never want to see him again. I am going to pretend that he thought I was great and is kicking himself for not running after me and giving me a flower (like they did in those impulse commercials in the 80's) I love you tootsie (his name) I am sorry we can't be together, you had your window, you blew it.

mood: like going to the gym

The Love of my Life

I now have the love of my life!

The love of my life is Hot!

The love of my life is hot and steamy!

The love of my life is strong.

The love of my life is powerful.

The love of my life is rich.

The love of my life makes mee feel alive, really energized.

The love of my life is Italian!

The love of my life tastes great (tee hee)

The love of my life is pretty cheap, and has been used before, but is still valueable to me.

Meet the new love of my life:
Mel :)

Mood: Buzzed :)

Who you gonna call?

Originally uploaded by DianaCrabtree.
I am glad to be home.

The trip went fine until last night. We boarded the plane on time, even though a windshield wiper motor had to be replaced. As the Jet-bridge was pulled away I looked outside, and I just knew something would happen. There were clouds in the sky. Bad clouds. Ghostbuster-ass clouds.

We pulled out as normal and I knew we would have a bumpy takeoff. I felt bad for the pilots. While we taxied I snuck into the galley and took some snapshots of the ghostbuster-ass clouds.

We stopped and waited awhile as is normal at this time of day, it is not unusual to be on the ground for 40 minutes waiting to take off. But then I heard that high-low chime.

A high-low chime means one of three things...we have ascended or decended through 10,000 feet; We are in final decent; or it's the flight deck calling. We hadn't even left the alley, so all that sound could be was them calling. They don't call for ice or to pick on me unless we are at crusing altitude so this high-low meant...bad news.

We were in a ground hold. The weather was too dangerous over the airport so no-one could take off until it passed. The captian made an announcement but had told me not to start a service so when the hold was released we could take off quick and not lose our slot. I walked through with pretzels (thank god I still had some- they have neglected stocking us enough with them since they are going to start selling trail mix instead) once I had passed out the pretzels I hid in the galley some more.

I was fine for quite some time. I sat, snapped a few pictures and day dreamed up a brilliant art installation about the images we see daily and how they are imprinted in our brains, even years after we don't see the images anymore, maybe for a lifetime. This entertained me, as did analyzing my mood now that my medication has increased, and chatting with some very empathetic business travelers.

Enough time passed that the captain agreed to let me do a water service. I sincerely believed that I wouldn't get through the whole thing. I ended up running out of water and serving the people in the back juice and soda (and got the privledge of listening to some elderly women kvetch "No water! How can they not supply enough water, I can't drink carbonated bever...bla bla bla bla bla") I had done my service, I got to hide some more.

Finally, an hour and a half later or so, the ground hold was released. We were like 30th in line to take off. We drove around the runways, slowly but surely (I think I got some shots of a funnel cloud forming!) and we came to another stop. A SECOND ground hold! I knew we would have 20 minutes, I went ahead and did a full beverage service (this way people could go to sleep and I wouldn't bug them with the cart- oh, and I could get that part over with) Finally, 3 hours after we had closed the main cabin door, we took off.

During the flight 2 of the water drinking ladies told me they needed an electric cart. They did not order wheelchairs or an electric cart. I called up and told the pilots who contacted the ground, who said all of the wheelchair pushers had gone home. These ladies needed them, Houston Airport (You notice I included no hyphen) is big, so we let the ground know we must have 2 wheelchairs.

When we arrived there were 2 chairs waiting. I watched a lady (who had been standing up much of the flight) go halfway up the stairs and back down into one of the wheelchairs. I was livid! I was not going to have a little old lady with a bad knee waiting for another wheelchair while this woman was in the car on the way home. I said to the pilots "That woman DID NOT order a wheelchair, tell the ramp we need another one" It was hilarious. The ramper said "Thats fine, but we have no wheelchair pushers, it may take as long as an hour" This woman all of a sudden was able to walk! It was a miracle! And the ladies who really needed the chairs got taken good care of by some nice rampers.

We got to the hotel about 1:30AM, if we were to leave on time in the morning we would not have legal rest, so the morning flight was delayed about an hour and a half. I wish we could have delayed it more, because we had the Sharaton special beds. At some Sharatons they have some fancy pillowtop beds with some Sharaton specific name. And wowsahs, they live up to the hype.

At 10:40 there was a Mainline flight going to the same destination, so I only had 5 passengers. One was a woman who knew everything about how to fix the woahs of the airlines (one of her brilliant ideas was to continue to lower ticket prices...[is it a BAD thing for a flight attendant to hurl granola bars at a passenger? Just wondering])

We were speeding up to take off and suddenly we slowed down. They aborted take off because a indicator told them a door had opened. The indicator turned off, but we still had to go back to the gate and have maintenence look at it.

We were replaced for an out & back (fine with me) and so only had one more out and back and then we were done. I fucked up again. I looked at the wrong time on my schedule, and was not watching closely, the captian saved my ass by saying "arent we supposed to be at the gate soon?" and the plane went out on time, but after last month's incident, I am very worried and upset about this. You can't be blase about time in this industry. I am going to let the medication kick in (and my time of the month pass) and then re-examine my behavior, but needless to say I was upset with myself.

I forgot to mention. Yesterday, during this I had PMS, and today I had cramps! Can you imagine? I am so glad its done!

mood: tired

Saturday, June 11, 2005

A snapshot of me admiring my ass in a 3-way-mirror

Originally uploaded by DianaCrabtree.
Last time I went to a bridal shop with my friend Carrie things didn't go well.

Carrie did ask me to be a bridesmaid, which I am okay with, because it is an honor. She asked Jane and I on the day of my graduation tour. I think I am safe from the maid of honor "honor."

I don't know who she chose, or if she has one, but it sounds like a bachelorette party will be in Vegas. I had a life goal to never go to Vegas- I said "Oh No! Why not NY?" but it's her wedding, and if I had to go to Vegas with anyone, it would be someone like her, who would find the whole place abnoxious.

Carrie is going to have us choose the styles that fit our figures (I love that woman) so today we went to a bridal shop to try dresses on. Needless to say I was worried. I had such a horrible time last time, and I was worried it would be even worse this time, because not only would I have to confront the fact that this life experience is not going to happen anytime soon in my life, and it may never, but I also would have to confront the reality of my figure, I was concerned I wouldn't be able to hold the tears back like last time and instead would lose control and start sobbing, ruining the experience for Carrie and Annette, her friend who was there too.

Thank goodness it went better than that. Annette is a similarly shaped girl so we had a great time laughing while we sucked in and menuvered our breasts trying to get the two-sizes-too-small sample dresses to zip (which they only did half the time) Thank God I looked good in some. Carrie and Annette raved about how I looked in this dress. My waist looked skinny and my cleavage was pretty, not pushed together like a butt (I know men like that, but I think it looks like ass) If you look closely at the picture, where the two pieces of fabric meet there is a little hook and eye to hold the pieces together. It is a Catholic wedding so I guess I will use the hook and eye, but Annette suggested unsnapping it if I notice a cute groomsman looking.

Afterwards we went to a wonderful deli-style resturaunt and chatted. Of course we talked about relationships, and with the intention of setting me up Annette asked me what I wanted in a man. I came up with smart, sense of humor, and "similar ethical beliefs" as me (this got a laugh Carrie said "I just can't imagine you with a Republican." Honestly I had no clue what to say I want. I am having such a hard time figuring out what qualities I want in myself, how can I decide which ones I would want in a partner?

Annette also said there is an addage that you end up with someone you already know. This frightened me. There is only one man I would be interested in, and he is dating a skinny, rich TV producer who lives in LA. The other two are Shane, my hick (but very sweet) old roommate, who would make a lovely boyfriend, to a virginal country girl. And who could forget? Earl

All jokes aside, my "love life" is better than ever, and there is no-one in it. I have just stopped caring. And good thing, Mr. Compliments must have said 3 times that he was going to call me..I didn't ask if he would, he just volunteered it. I was "certian" he would call, and surprise!- nothing. But this time I didn't give a shit. I barely thought about him. So what? He's handsome, smart, and seems to understand me- does that mean I will be excited? I think I know better than that. Besides visiting the gym more often, I sincerely don't know what I should do differently and I have lost the willingness to try to figure it out. And I am glad I feel this way. Things are in perspective now. A companion would be a nice thing to have, but that doesn't mean I need to waste my energy looking for one. Okay, and I admit as I am writing this I am feeling a little bit of emotion, mostly hurt feelings (not really from this new guy...a composite of every man since NYNDM and TBG-becuase I have just learned to open up and take a chance, even though I might get hurt- which I am not used to)

All in all it was a good day. I wasn't sublimely happy but I made it thorough the day without wondering if I am going to make it another week without falling apart. I laughed (mostly sincerely) and didn't have any moments when I said to myself "make it end" which are probably the 3 most used words in my mental volcabulary. So I am okay, even though I am always the bridesmaid and never the bride ;)

mood: ok (even though I work tomorrow)

I Lost My Virginity (I have pictures to prove it!)

Tonight was the night. I did it for the very first time.

firsttimeI ate sushi :)

28 years old and never ate sushi, who could imagine? It's becuase I don't much like fish, so the idea of eating it raw did not sound appetizing. Tonight I ate a dynamite tuna roll and a salmon roll of some sort. That was bravery enough for me. I ate some delicious vegetarian dishes for the rest.

I also enjoyed a light plum wine. I enjoyed it on the same day that I just doubled my medication. The wine was sweet and I was affected by it halfway through the glass! I am still lightly buzzed.

It's been a great day. I got to my appointment on time, found an espresso maker at a thrift shop, hung out with my sister AND one of my best friends at the same time (weird for me, I act differently with each of them) but best of all...Hosna came today! My sweet little sponsor child's introduction packet showed up! She is so cute! She has the cutest little furrowed brow. And I love her cute bald head (if I am correct- they shave children's hair, expecting that it will grow back thicker) I have already written and mailed my first letter to her. YAY!

mood: brave

Thursday, June 09, 2005

My City, My Self

Originally uploaded by DianaCrabtree.
My father and grandparents got me a nice digital camera for my birthday. I love it and am enjoying using it very much. Today I got the software installed to my computer.

One of the pictures on my camera was a great photo of an outdoor sculpture my cousin took at the museum. This sculpture is well known, and can easily identify my city.

I love my city. I think my city is one of the best out there (I would very comfortably say "the" best, but I haven't lived in enough cities to make that decision) My love for my city brings about a dilemma.

I get frustrated sometimes when writing on my blog. I can say "I went to a dance performance that made me cry" when what I want to say is "I went to the *** dance company's performance of *** and you should see it, it made me cry!"

I love my city and I want the world to know how beautiful life is here. But if I let on my city, I let on my identity. If I told you the city I live in, you would know what airline I work for. If I told you what city I live in you would know what museum I volunteer for. If you know my airline and/or musem, you know me. And if my identity is attached to this blog, I will not feel comfortable being as open as I am.

This saddens me so much. When I hold back all of the beauty that surrounds me I am also holding back the beauty that is in my life. If I hold back the beauty that is in my life I am holding back part of my life. And if I am holding back part of my life in my journal, I am only acknowledging the pain in my life, and not the joy too.

I had started up a public page, but I was just too shy to be ready to be that open. I imagine I could occasionally add to my public blog, but when Im feeling depressed I don't even feel enough energy to read my favorite blogs, let alone post, how would I have the energy to post on two?

As I think about it, I think I will. I think I will let my public blog be very neglected, and not ask anyone to read it. But having it would give me a voice to speak about my city, as this blog gives me to speak about myself.

mood: smitten (by my beautiful city!)

Love letter to SpiderSolitaire part 4

My dad spend hours and hours on the computer when I was a child. This was in the Commodore 64 days, this was in the days when a periodical called "Computer User" existed (like people who "used" computers was a niche market) He spent alot of time on bulliten boards (IM didnt even EXIST to the public and I worried about him. He didn't have friends, and I felt very strongly that you cant have real friendships on the computer. Wow was I wrong!

I stand by my belief that it isn't healthy to put your entire social energy on the computer. There is something important about interacting face to face with a 98.6 degree breathing entity. I think it's in our genes to need that. I am glad however that computer communication exists for those people who are severely socially challenged (Sounds funny, but I am being serious) I can't imagine how lonely it would be to have really repellant social skills, or to be so anxious that you can't leave the house, so I am glad that this form of communication exists as a stepping stone into socilization. That being said, my opinion has changed about online friendship, I not only now know its possible, I am really lucky to have a new great friend! Online- (mostly!)

Spider just called me one of her closest friends on her blog. Sounds weird right? We have never been in the same room yet I feel the same way! On the phone the other day she said something about feeling like she has made great health strides in the last few months. I feel the same way too! I know a big part of it is the blog, it helps me turn my abstract feelings into concrete ideas that I can work with, but thats not all. It's also having my new friend in my life.

Spider lives in Texas, I live in a liberal state. Spider has kids and a husband I have never been married or pregnant. Spider has tattoos and cool hair, I look conservative except for a scar on my belly button. Spider is REALLY young (21) I am REALLY old (28) LOL. Even though our lives are so different, it is remarkable how alike we think! She knows just the right things to write/say when I am feeling down, and how to make me laugh. She also gives me a feeling that my struggles are not in vain. It feels really good to know that I can use the mistakes I have made and put them to some good, and 9 times out of 10 they seem to apply since we see things so similarly.

I am so excited about the credit counseling for her. Her family's debt is not very much, and Spider is really good when it comes to money, its just that collection agents are paid based on how much they collect, so they will go to extreme measures to get the money. No one with anxiety issues needs people calling to harrass them, one once sent me calling a suicide hotline, and I was not in a lot of debt either! I really think this will be great for her family and anxiety level (and there is no anti-depressant like being debt free!)

And readers...if you read her post, don't go thinking I am some evangalist trying to push my religion- i don't agree with that sort of thing. She was describing a church that her husband invented, and I was like "that already exists- Its called Unitarian Universalist" I have to hold back a little about how excited I am to have introduced someone to UU, because I don't believe in imposing your religion (I like OG's way of going about it, letting your life be the advertisement) but I must say, I am so excited...and hope that it brings both of them the stimulation and inspiration it has brought me! (oh, and did you know Dave Chapelle's mother was a UU minister? YEA-YAH!)

This is turning out to be more of a response to Spider's post than a love letter, I could write a long post about all the positive effects her friendship has had on my life in a short few months, because they are many. I guess I wanted to say I am happy I could bring good things to her life because she has brought so much good to mine!

Love you fraternal twin sister separated at birth by seven years!

mood: blessed

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

I don't recommend Sprint PCS

My cell phone service was just shut off because I haven't made a payment. I GOT MY FIRST BILL TODAY!

I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCSI don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCSI don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCSI don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCSI don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCSI don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS I don't recommend Sprint PCS

Monday, June 06, 2005


I met a nice man today...he lives in Richmond.

With the exception of the self-sabotauging long distance habit I am yet to solve, I know something has changed in my relating with men since beginning therapy. This man was/is, in my opinion, out of my league. Even so I didn't do my normal thing of searching for, and focusing on his negative qualites and being chilly (rejecting them before they reject you.)

I also took his compliments seriously. Usually I find a way to turn compliments in my head into 1. Kissing up 2. Off base or 3. Evidence of a fatal flaw (he likes that about me because he is lacking in it and wants to tap my life force and drain me [extreme, but a common and genuine emotion for me!]) One reason I was willing to accept his compliments was he complimented meaningful things. He also made lots of compliments about my looks which I didn't take very seriously...but I thouroughly enjoyed them. ;)

He is a middle-class guy and I didn't automatically assume and mentally accuse him of being a shallow, privledged, dope (also because he didn't behave as one)

He got me! He understood what the hell I was talking about (a start) and based on his compliments, I think he could see my strengths.

Ooh, and he is yummy to look at ;)

My hopes aren't high, I am not excited. I am certian he will call but I have been "certain" about many people. I am not going to make anything happen. I am, however, still open enough to let something happen. He was a cool guy.

(Thanks to the 3 nice men and 1 nice demon who have visited and commented on my site- a girl can't stereotype men when she keeps being confronted with exceptions to the incorrect sexist categories she has created)

mood: sick (Pizza)

Saturday, June 04, 2005


My eyelashes are soaked with tears right now. I just watched Spanglish, a sweet movie about families, with a stunningly beautiful actress Paz Vega who looked remarkably like my stunningly beautiful mother.

It's not the stupid movie of course, it's not the time of the month, it's the culmunation of the terrible stress of May coming out. I know it's good. Anytime I can cry it's good. I just am unhappy that this wonderful vacation has to end. It has felt so wonderful to be in my home, alone, and to be so ugly, to be so shamelessly lathargic, and tomorrow I have to re-enter the real world, where I think I am being judged, and after the second half of May, I learned I sometimes am.

I know I am not going to walk into a snake pit tomorrow, the grand majority of our pilots are beautiful and fun, My experience with those assholes is really the exception, I have nothing to fear. I know that Emma doesn't hate me, she isn't constantly complaining about me (and if she is it is the same kind of venting I do about her.) It's not Emma, or the pilots, or the passengers for that matter, that I am dreading returning to, it is that fucking feeling. That feeling that I am being evaluated. That feeling that I am being judged. My god it wears on me.

I should feel thankful that there is a name for this. If Social Phobia is common enough to have a name than it must be common enough to have been studied. If a phobia of flying can be cured, or at least made manageable, than maybe this can too. I am so glad I am in therapy (when I started I was not aware of just how much I needed it- I just knew I was having a hard time cleaning) I am so glad I have a psychiatrist appointment in a week. I know that things are changing for me, I can feel them. And I know feeling pain is part of the bargain of being healthy.

I don't want another night of staying up late getting things done. I want a good night's sleep tonight. That means I have to finish up packing and load all of the boxes back in my room- I still am yet to have created a place for everything- I am not beating myself up, just illustrating a symptom. I want to get back to being healthy. I was feeling great when I was eating healthy & excercising.

I feel better having gotten this off of my chest. I feel better having cried. I feel better remembering that I am moving in the right direction, bumpy as the road may be.

Mood: calm (and dont want to go back to being anxious!)

Bookmark this page

Spider's husband is a magnificent writer, he loves role playing and he has finally agreed to share his creativity with the world.

Please visit his page often, to encourage him while he gets the project off the ground!

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(I have it on my blogroll too- if you lose the URL)

Friday, June 03, 2005

Gracias Erika y Carlos

A few years ago I lived in a terrible, run down apartment. It was in one of three brownstone buildings across the street from a house I lived in as a child. I used to look up at those buildings and say "thats where grown-ups live" and was reminded of the houses I saw on Sesame Street.

In college when looking for an apartment, I saw a "For Rent" sign on the side of the building. The sign was large, visible to people on the freeway, maybe I should have been wary of a building with a permanent for rent sign, but I visited the place and loved it. The place was really neglected, and I actually liked it. It was a disaster, but to me it gave it character, I felt so authentic, I lived in the type of building students should live in, it felt New York, it felt "Punk."

Two weeks after moving in I came home around midnight feeling awful (hmmm interestingly I had been hanging out with the identity theft accuser...hmmm) I ran a bath and I layed down in the tub and suddenly I saw a cockroach!!! There are some things I loved about about the "grittiness" of the place...but I didn't know cockroaches were part of the package! My roommate and I agreed we wouldn't move- we had already settled in, and for some time it was okay- you would only see a bug once every two weeks or so. I handled it.

We had drug-dealers as neighbors, if that wasn't bad enough they stole things from the basement. I found out it was them when I saw a phone of mine in a garbage bag outside their apartment. How nice, steal someones stuff, throw it away and don't even try to hide it. Most of the things that were stolen were only inconvieniences to replace except my class dad bought me the 14k gold version when I was in high school, and we could not afford it. Even though I knew who it was, the police could not recover it.

Hmm what else happened when I lived in that building? Someone got my debit card and tried to spend $350 at a liquor store (yeah- that wont attract attention) they also tried to purchace things on QVC. The way I learned this is the Mail Carrier saw my name on an envelope with a different address and delivered it to me. I called QVC and the funniest thing is they wouldn't give me any information about my account- which is hilarious, you will allow someone else to register my name and debit account to buy things- but you cant give me, the actual card owner, any information. Oh well, I guess I can't buy anything from QVC now, what a shame.

We also had squatters in the basement, other neighbors who I smoked a bowl with, who then offered me red opium "Its like hash" they told me, yeah, opium, not dangerous at all. The landlord instructed the caretakers to turn the radiatiors on once in the morning and once at night, well we lived on the top floor as far from the boiler as possible, so the apartment was so cold my fingers were blue during the winter, and I sometimes took two baths a day to bring my body temprature up.
Did I mention that our first caretakers were an alcoholic and a felon, and the second ones looked like meth heads (if not meth, than something else hard!) Oh, and there was the time that the tenants moved out and left a garbage bag with a dirty diaper, which sat for a month. I went next store to investigate when our apartment became overrun with cockroaches. Nice lifestyle right? And for a two bedroom (one the size of a walk in closet) we were paying $800 a month to live there- (years ago- before prices went up- BTW I pay less than that now- and our apartment is georgeous, well maintained, and in the best neighborhood in the city) Near campus the slums are shocking. I had a lease, and wanted to learn if I could sue the guy or something, I learned that the landlords in this neighborhood get away with this stuff all the time.

So now the scene is set. One day I entered the front door of the building with bags and bags of groceries. A sweet 19 year old girl tried to say something to me but spoke no english, so I didn't understand her. Finally through gesturing and spanish I realized she offered to help me carry them up and she did. I gave her my telephone number to say "call if I can help you" and I was surprised when she did.

We ended up becoming friends. She stayed at home while her husband worked. She spoke no english and so I was forced to use the spanish I had learned in school (for the first time I realized I could carry on a conversation in spanish!) They were illegal so their employment options were limited. Her husband worked for a food service temp agency on campus that I used to work for. The owner Lisa was very unethical. When I met Erika and her husband it turns out Lisa was not paying for the work he did, so I helped them get in touch with legal aid and he did end up getting paid.

Erika and her family moved to a house in another neighborhood. The house was full of people. Speaking of cockroaches, this house had so many that you could see them in the daytime! Erika and her baby slept on a blanket on the floor. I had given them alot of things, like plates and a garbage can, stuff I didn't need, and it was really appreciated. When I came over to the new house to spend the night, she cooked a huge Mexican feast. They slept on the floor in a cockroach infested house in a bad neighborhood, and they were spoiling me! She even gave me this hideous laqured wall hanging with an aztec warrior heroically carrying a overly-buxom maiden. This wall hanging had to be the ugliest thing I have seen in my life, I still have it and absoulutely treasure it.

That night while we were laying on the "bed" talking something struck me...I asked in Spanish "Are you happy?" and she said yes, like it was a weird question to ask. Why wouldn't she be happy really? She had running water. She had food. She had a husband and baby. She had entertainment (we watched "a perfect storm" on video- in English) what else could someone want in life?

I layed in my bed the next night in my slum. I thought about how hard walls like these would be a luxury to many. I thought about having radiatiors that go on twice a day would be so welcome to someone freezing. How my archaic two faucet sink would feel like a miracle to those who have to walk miles for water, which could still give them diseases. Erika gave me alot, she gave me gifts, she gave me friendship, she gave me the opportunity to use Spanish, but most of all she gave me reality. I miss her. I wonder how she and Carlos are doing. I lost touch and have no clue how I would find them.

I think about Erika regularly, and what a gift she gave me. Around my birthday, when I was depressed, I considered sponsoring a child through Save the Children, as a monthly reminder to myself about my blessings. Tonight I sponsered a 4 year old girl named Hosna. She is cute with a necklace and a little bald head. She lives in Bangladesh. Now every month I will get a reminder about the reality of my situation. I think I am so poor, but I will be reminded that the $28 deducted from my account is going towards things I was born receiving, water, food, medicine, shelter, education, safety. I hope I may also recieve correspondance from Hosna's family and am able to learn something about south Asia, which I have such interest in.

This is not just a reminder to see how lucky I am, but also to judge the wealthy less. I still think status symbols are vulgar (those items that are expensive beyond the point of being high quality- for no reason but to be unavailable to the majority) but many of my feelings about the wealthy are unfair. I may want to point my finger and say "YOU- you are the problem" But in the grand scheme of things I am wealthy too, and so I too, am the problem, and so must also be the solution. The great majority of the world is in danger of not having enough water...let me think of that next time I am mad about having to do dishes.

mood: blessed (Thanks Hosna!)

Sweet Solitude

I can't believe that I ever thought I didn't like myself. I like myself alot. I am my own favorite company. I am blessed this week because Emma is out of town and I have an extended period of days off. I am completely, and utterly alone- and I could not be happier!

The difference between an introvert and an extrovert is where you get your energy from. Extroverts get their energy from other people, introverts from being alone. For years I tested as 50/50. At times I like being the center of attention, I LOVE being adored! But as the years have passed I need that less and less. I am happy to watch and enjoy my friend being the star- and actually I have begun to dislike attention, including positive attention. I think that genuinely comes from self-esteem, I am getting better at guaging my value based on my own opinions, not on how I am recieved by others, maybe the love of attention was actually some validation I was looking for.

It is hard to explain what this lovely feeling I am feeling is. All my self-conciousness is dropped off. I am not concerned about how I might appear to anyone (I am very self concious that people are always evaluating me- oh yeah- thats called social phobia!) Wow, thats what it is. It is a temporary reprieve from the pain of social phobia. I am not able to feel this way when I have the whole day to myself and Emma will be home at the end of it, because I know she will be coming home, so I feel like I have to be ready, to be presentable, to "appear" normal. But not now. My hair is in an afro. I have coffee breath. I am wearing jeans with a silly pyjama tank top. And no one will ever know (well they wouldn't have- had I not posted it on the WORLDWIDE web) hee hee

I do love this feeling, and I wish I could have it at least once a month, but that doesn't mean I should live alone. Phobias are curable with Desensitization. Its when you expose yourself a little at a time to the phobia it gets weaker and weaker. The longer I go with out interacting with people, the stronger it gets, which is one of the reasons my job is so good for me, I do tons of public speaking, I have to directly speak to people and tell them what to do, and the interactions are temporary and relatively short, so if I feel I have been percieved negatively, I am rid of them in an hour.

If I had the choice of living alone again I would choose not to. If I ever get married I want to be used to sharing space, and a few years ago I went without a roommate for a month, and I got lonely! If Emma did move I would, however want a flight crew member to be my roommate, because then I would have more times like this week, where I could know I would have the whole day alone, and free from the percieved judgement of the world, like I am now....ahhhhhh!

mood: zen

J / Joan Armatrading lyrics / Me Myself I

Me Myself I

by Joan Armatrading

I sit here by myself
And you know I love it
You know I don't want someone
To come pay a visit
I wanna be by myself
I came in this world alone
Me myself I

I wanna go to China
And to see Japan
I'd like to sail the oceans
before the seas run dry
I wanna go by myself
I've just room enough for one
My myself I

I wanna be a bigshot
And have ninety cars
I wanna have a boyfriend
And a girl for laughs
But only on saturdays
Six days to be alone
Just me myself I
Me myself and I
Just me myself I

Don't wanna be the bad guy
Don't wanna make a soul cry
It's not that I love my self
I just don't want company
Just me myself I
Me myself and I
Just me myself I

I sit here by myself
And you know I love it
You know I don't want someone
To come pay a visit
I wanna be by myself
I came in this world alone
Me myself I

Thursday, June 02, 2005


I started my day with a dentist appointment. I thought all that would happen was a cleaning and a repair of a chip, but she found a cavity so I got to start my day with novicane, drills and a big shot.

Oh and speaking of big shots, after the dentist I hung out at the museum with a pilot buddy, who I adore, and his perfect girlfriend. She was beautiful, smart, loaded, and has a great career, and worst of all, she was very cool. I couldn't even secretly hate her. She treats my friend really good too so I can't wish they would break up. Just what I need, to spend time with another happy couple.

After the museum and a very cute middle eastern resturaunt my sister Linda picked me up for a surprise date. It turned out to be a fund-raiser for her work (she is a social worker) which was mostly a community theater play. It wasn't so bad, I didn't have to socialize much, and she wanted to leave after the play.

I survived the day, but am feeling more and more the need to increase my medication. I am so glad I have an appointment coming up, because I feel no enthusiasm. I know I love the museum but it feels like a hassle. I know I love my job but it feels like an interruption. I know I love my friends but communicating feels like such a challenge. (Today alone I must have grasped for words a dozen of them was while looking at a checker board, and trying to come up with "checker board"...get me

Emma is out of town all week, which is so exciting to me, I am (was) going to enjoy the uninterrupted alone time. But tomorrow, in the middle of my fucking solitude, the fucking landlord is coming to exchange screens for the storm windows (this couldn't have happened, hmmm, when spring started?) This means I have to change out of my pyjamas and brush my hair, not to mention make the house look like a person lives here not a tasmanian devil (I have had so much fun just taking off my jacket and throwing it on a couch...and emptying my purse onto the table and leaving the stuff there.)

So welcome to my life...It is more wonderful than I ever imagined my life being, and I don't even feel it.

mood: like someone who needs to increase her medication