The bombardment of insecurities & fear through eight pin sized holes on a receiver

i don't know if you have those people in your life: whenever they open their mouths to speak you wish the air would record the words like subtitles in mid-air? i do.
these are the people i can speak to in metaphor, in poetry, in convoluted disorganized stream of consciousness. sometimes when i'm on the phone with them, i actually take notes. it is a little embarrassing but i figure they don't know so their brilliance flows and i get to save face.

it seems that whenever i start losing some bearings i end up calling certain people in my life. usually it is a mentor, a therapist, an older friend, someone who knows me better than i want to realize. today i called a grad school prof.

"I just wanted to update you on a few things, I have roomates now," I say. "I'm living in the city now. I feel like even though there isn't a level of individual intimacy yet, there is this collective sense of belonging."

He understands. And then comes the wisdom. He says to me that these are the kinds of risks that will not hurt me, these are the kinds of risks that it takes to be known. That I have taken a risk that isn't easy to runaway from. That maybe I've been looking for people who have the ability to see, instead of focusing on my ability to reveal.

He says now is the time to risk being seen. To risk being held.

I told him that I don't know how to allow God to comfort me, how to trust Him? He says I should pray that God direct my path, not my destination. That my prayer could mean that God allow me to cross paths, to be in places that will grow me, that will fulfill me along the way.

This struck me with such boldness. Sometimes it is more about the growth along the way- isn't it? Greed is a deceptive beast. I get so hungry to arrive. . . . and I am often unsatisfied with the manna along the way.

lone starring it

Reasons to move to texas:
1. i have the most darling and precious sobrinas
2. eggs cost .76
3. sonic will now "slush" or "aid" anything you want

*reasons not to move exceed the memory of blogger sites

Can't buy me love

thanks to my new chicago life and cable TV i am officially hooked on Grey's Anatomy. all it took was the season finale. mcDreamy has sure come a long way from his "Can't buy me love" days.

eye candy. ahhh. . .

why the low rise jean is only flattering on certain body types

i'm one of those ppl that tells other ppl when they have part of their lunch lounging on their cheek. one time i told my supervisor he had a sesame seed in his mustache. i figure, they don't want to walk out to their car at 5pm after work and realize that all day long no one told them about the broccoli between molars 12 and 13. we say something because we have ALL pulled down our visor on the drive to realize our own foolish remains at some time or other. and we wished somebody had spoke up.

a few weeks ago my roomate was coloring my hair at her salon and while looking up at her i brought attention to what seemed like a "hangy" booger. you know what i'm talking about-so anyhow, turns out it was the bottom end of her nose ring. i was the bonehead on that one.

but then over the weekend i went to Home Depot. first of all, i hate this store. it's ugly and it smells unpleasant. oh, and i can't find anything there and avoid it at all costs. but a las, there i was alone and in orange heaven breathing in insecticide and saw dust looking for a window A/C unit. i had one of the apron ppl help me out with my purchase. i needed her to use her UPC gun to register my purchase on the Self Check-Out lane.

that's when i saw her butt crack. seriously, she's standing in front of me trying to figure out why her gun isn't working (which took at least twenty minutes) and her shirt is somehow caught between the apron ties and her own belt, which coincidentily isn't actually connected through the belt loop holes on the jeans. what i witnessed next was at least three inchs of crack protruding from her jeans.

i wish i could tell you that i diplomatically brought her attention to the matter. but i can't tell you that. you see, i wasn't sure how to begin to phrase it. somehow, i'm not sure that this was offensive to every other shopper. but then again, what do i know about the people who shop at home depot.

unload

i'm still unpacking all my crap. it seems i own more junk than there are holes to stuff it all. the thing that sucks about unpacking is that inevitably there is this one small thing that you want and you can't remember where you put it for the move. in the last two weeks at various points this object was:
my hair brush, my pampered chef ice cream scoop, my favorite white dangle apple earrings that i affectionately call "eve earrings", the new book of USPS stamps, and Jack-my shuffle.

in other news, i had one of the worst weeks at work of my life. how does everything go wrong in the same week? bad karma i suppose. i actually cried at work (which I have never done). yea, it sucked. these jerkoff teens were total asses to me which i usually can take.

but for some reason after i left the room on thursday after giving them hell, i went into the staff room and broke into tears. i have no idea how this happened but i'm telling you i lost total control of my facial muscles & my composure. i hate it when i lose my composure in front of ppl who don't know me well. because then i feel like such a fool. i have to get better at this showing vulnerability crap.

i'll close in saying after working with substance abuser teens i was just about ready to find out first hand just what a "bowl" might feel like while decompressing from my day.
jerks.

it's all about perspective

i don't know about you but i don't usually SIT when using public restrooms. i'll spare you the details. but you have to admit there is a LOT of bacteria in those places crawling everywhere.

over the weekend i was at work and went into the ladies room to do my business. that's when it happened-the perspective changing that is- the toilet seat was up. now, typically i relate the "up" position of the seat to some moron man who forget to put the seat down. translation: it could be a messy corner of the room, and floor for that matter (and who wants to actually touch the top of the seat anyway?).

but there i was looking at the situation and i realized something. there probley wasn't a guy who last came in, it was the cleaning lady. translation: this is the cleanest seat around.
so, i sat. and that was that.

talk about a paradigm shift.

my best self

i went out with the new roomies tonight-feliz cinco de mayo-for dinner. we walked to this place called El Jardin because they have world famous margaritas. i'd like to know how it is that every mexican place happens to reserve the "world famous ___" title on cinco de mayo? hmmm. . .

what do i care, fool me and give me a good drink! and they did, a couple actually. in the last few weeks i've had a few friends mention that they thought I was sorta "jumpy" meaning: on edge, jumpy, overly stressed. i think all four of them are right.

we were out having a great time tonight and i was half thinking (because thats all i can do when i have alcohol in my system) about how great it feels to get the edge off. what a relief it is to be with ppl you trust and enjoy and to have a drink or two, or. . .;)

so i've decided that tonight, i was my best self. and it took a bit of tequila and rum to get me there, but rest assured-i was my best. cheers and buenas noches, bonita

i heart futbol

it's such a great sport. i played starting at like 7 i think and believe strongly this shaped my life tremendously. soccer is such a kick ass sport.

yesterday i was spending time with these teens that i work with and i bought them some sports gear. i.e. volleyball, frisbees, soccer ball, etc. so we met up at the park with some serious KFC buckets and had a good time. i was pretending to be in shape with a few of them kicking the ball around and i was remembering how much i Love soccer.

when we played it was such a fun time to hang out with cool girls. my teams were never the top of the top, but we sure learned a ton about being tough. and of course we got to be outside for hours goofing off and singing random counting crows, en vogue, and pearl jam songs on the field while coach wasn't with us.

i think i learned a lot of confidence from soccer. maybe because it was a team sport, maybe because i was allowed to "side tackle" people (which i'm sure i only successfully did once in a tournament and got called Fat Cow & Slut for by some moron girl from LaPorte). either way i know there are few things i love more from childhood as the memories of quartered chilled orange slices and fruit punch gatoraid at half time with my friends. oh, and of course the awkward shinguard tan lines on my bony legs.

i gotta find some people in the city to play soccer with. amanda, will you move here?

23

i'm pretty sure this was the age when i stopped being able to sleep in on Saturday mornings. has this happened to anyone else?

there was a time when i could sleep in on ANY occasion until say, 11a or noon. i'm talking, stay in your pajamas all day kinda sleeping in. and then suddenly when i was about 23 i woke up at 7:30am for no reason; and it continued that way from then on.

the thing is that it is so agravating because you know your body is capable of getting more sleep. and yet you awaken at 7:15 without an alarm and you think to yourself: "self-what the heck is wrong with you. it's 7:15 in the stinkin' morning and you don't have to be awake. STOP DOING THIS."

to no avail, you can't return to sleep.

i finished moving in last night. now i just have to organize and put away a significant amount of junk.