Glowing orb glistening
As if filled with life
Jolly face peering back
Through the fronds
Laughing,
Smiling,
Reassuring.
Gazing on the cooling light
Flowing over me
Washing away
The day.
I feel relief
I know peace
For once, I and the universe are one.
Calm fills my heart
Joy exudes from my soul
Come what may…
I
Know
Peace.
I’m truly uncertain where to begin. Lots of things dinging about inside my cranium, some of them, perhaps, worth further thought.
Logan was all giddy last night about the Screen Actors Guild Awards. He sounded more like a little girl than a 26 year old man, with his giggling and “oohing” and “ahhing” over who wore what, how much it cost, how they arrived, blah blah blah. I don’t like such progs, so I did my own thing in my room with my popcorn.
I mentioned it to a coworker this morning and got royally trounced! “Do you KNOW how many gazillions of cash is spent on such affairs? The facilities, all the fancy autos, sparkly gowns, tuxes, pampering, and not to mention all the hair “product” just for a bunch of spoiled, overpaid, entertainers who want to “boo hoo” about the predicament of the poor but aren’t giving up their lifestyles to help. NO, they just expect their opinions and status to sway the ignorant buffoon masses to pay for everyone else INCLUDING their smug lives. Think about this, these are “ACTORS” giving “awards” to “ACTORS” and taking the opportunity to spew their own political agenda worse than any politician.” I was more than a little taken aback, because all I said was my brother seemed to get a kick out of watching the show. WOW! People are SO touchy and don’t really seem to have any interest in working together to get along.
Okay…..next thought: What is is about women’s breasts that is SO fascinating to men? I mean they are simply part of the female anatomy yet women who have hooters, tits, mams, sweater melons, gazongas, floating funbags, muffins, call them what you will, are used to sell products and/or services. These women seem to thrive and use the fact men are hypnotized by these “toys for tots”. What is it about them that are so fascinating to men and make them go all stupid? And heaven forbid if a nipple is apparent or visible!
Don’t be stunned. Please sit down for this one. I went to church yesterday for the first time for actual services. Was NOT what I expected! It wasn’t Sister Thomasina’s church either. It was a little unassuming place. The people were so nice and friendly and accepting. The pastor was interesting and even funny and made me think. And, yes, I checked them out…they are NOT on the list of cults. Our courtyard neighbor invited me when she saw me in the garden with my coffee. I’ve read and heard a lot about churches, but have never been and I am open to trying new things.
I will say, I was embarrassed, during the opening prayer not because I didn’t know what was happening, but I had an itch on my elbow and pulled my sleeve up to scratch it and the person sitting next to me saw the scars from my cutting. I was so ashamed that I wanted to run out, but decided THAT would create more of a stir than just pulling my sleeve back down and being as unobtrusive as possible. After the service, the person who sat next to me made it a point to come tell me not to be embarrassed because we all have our struggles. I liked that. Made me feel a little less like a complete psycho-loser. Then she said she’d like for us to have dinner sometime because she would like to get to know me better. I thought that was rather pushy, then I wondered how she would react if I told her my WHOLE story. I ended up thanking her and telling her perhaps another time as this was my first time.
Cooking Class……I HATE COOKING! I prepared the cake as per the instructions….EXACTLY per the instructions….and the cake was crunchy on the outside and slimy gooey on the inside. I tried to bake a chicken pasty and somehow the pasty was perfect but the inside was quite crunchy too. I GIVE UP!!! I was not cut out to be a chef!
Therapist Update: We seem to have FINALLY found a med that works for anxiety more times than not. And another one that seems to help me with depression more times than not. Therapist said depression CAN BE cyclical and the meds that would stop the cycle would make me more like a zombie than a human, so I opted to work through the cycles. Logan said the meds have made me a bit of a chatterbox and then the crash at bedtime he finds hysterical. He said he heard me in the shower when he had gotten home after my bedtime so he knocked on my door to see if I was okay (and make sure I wasn’t cutting) and he said I was sound asleep in the shower leaning up against the door. So I’m guessing I need to pay more attention to timing so I don’t turn into a pumpkin whilst perched on a park bench or in a shoppe.
I’ve blathered on for now.
I have never understood politics and don’t claim to understand it now. I’m not a politician, but I am a human female. And I am confused!
There was an election in the “United” States and because the winner of the election is not a politician and wants to make changes, there are lots of marches, burning, looting, destruction, defiance because the “liberals” don’t agree with the proposed changes?
I have listened to people shouting how they want Free This and Free That and Save This and Save That, as well as, Let’s not have borders rather let everyone come freely in and suckle at the taxpayer teat. There’s so much complaining going on that I am confused.
It’s as if everyone wants to steer the boat, but no one wants to help set the sails. What the hell is wrong with the “Offended” States of America? Every time I hear anything calling itself “news” about the U.S. it’s because some group or another is offended and needs to go to radical extremes to make their offendedness be known.
Is this how Mohandis Gandhi changed India? Is this how Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. changed civil rights? By looting, attacking, destroying?
WOW! You’d think adults would be able to sit down together, have a drink, and seek to fix the issues rather than create more or exacerbate the ones already present. I thought MY life had been horrible, but these people who have this need to protest everything all the time must have absolute horrific existences.
I just don’t get it. And honestly, don’t want to.
After much thought and careful consideration, I finally was able to get my revenge on Logan TWICE! I know he has a “thing” for a co-worker named Bethany. I have seen him mooning over her photo on his phone, but she has not met me yet (probably on purpose). On Tuesday, I “happened” to wander over (via bus and tube) the 27 blocks to Logan’s Office. I saw him sitting in the park with Bethany, so I thought I might as well break the ice and introduce myself since, apparently, Logan doesn’t think it’s a good idea. I walked up behind Logan hugged him and kissed his cheek and looked at Bethany and said, “You must be Cindy! Logan just won’t stop talking about you. I’m his sister Timere. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Logan’s face turned so hot from his blushing and then he got flustered because Cindy is actually his boss who he complains about incessantly. Needless to say, Bethany was stunned and speechless. I heard Logan making choking sounds trying to think of what to say, so I kissed him on the cheek again and whispered in his ear, “Gotcha!”. Then I let the cat out of the bag and properly introduced myself to Bethany (very ladylike and daintily, of course).
THAT was SO worth the fare! Logan came home sputtering mad but calmed down when I came out of the kitchen with his favorite meal prepared, and reminded him that I love him. After dinner, Logan told me that he would clean up since I had fixed dinner. Well, THAT should have been my clue that he was up to something, but I was still riding the high of the victory and knowing that I had another plan to set in motion. Logan was clanging the pots and pans around making a lot of noise (even though I had only made his favorite pizza). But I was relaxed on the sofa watching my programme, when he comes out of the kitchen jumps over the back of the sofa, drops in beside me, kissed me on the cheek as he slapped duct tape on my arm.
Now…..I am accustomed to being waxed from chin to toes (and still do it), but duct tape on skin…The only way to get it off was to get a corner and just yank the foot long piece off my arm. There were many, Many, MANY expletives expressed because I miscalculated and it took FOUR yanks to finally get it off. SO not fair.
But because I love him, I opted not to dismember him just yet. But while he slept, I took his suit jacket and a pair of bright pink see through thong panties, and sewed them into the tail of his jacket so they could only be seen from the back. So when he goes to the office tomorrow, he’s going to have to explain why he has a pair of sexy women’s panties dangling from his jacket. I might just have to follow him to work just to see the reactions of he gets. 🙂 <insert evil maniacal laugh here>
This weekend past was challenging for both Logan and I. It all began Friday morning when I had poured some blonde hair colouring in Logans shampoo, as he is VERY particular about his hair. The shrieking from his lav when he saw his blonde top was hysterical! Thank goodness I had locked my door because he came racing down the hall and ran face first into my solid oak door, which created more for his coworkers to view upon his arrival. I’ll admit it, I checked on him and helped him with his bloody nose after I had laughed so hard that my ribs and stomach hurt.
That’s not to say I got away with it. On Saturday, I got up late and was going to go to the pub with some of my coworkers so we could share our stories about the red-headed googly eyed guy from across the alleyway. I jumped in the shower, grabbed my bodywash and started cleansing, only to discover the water was just beading up and rolling off me. Logan had put petroleum jelly in my body wash, the little bastard! Five scrubs later with regular soap and I still feel icky!
Then the little shyte went to the coffee truck I always patronize, because it’s right outside my workplace, and told the 18 year old counter person that I was in love with him AND that he made me horny. When I showed up this morning, sure enough coffee guy is making puppy eyes at me and staring at, well, it wasn’t my eyes. He asked me, in a shaky teenager voice, if I would go out with him. I was confused as to where this was coming from, I had only been polite and courteous but nothing more. That is, until I caught a glimpse of Logan hiding behind a shrubbery. Then I knew! So I smiled coyly, ran my finger along the neckline of my shirt, pulling down to where he could ALMOST see my boobless chest, and said “Come out of that van and I want you to take me right here in the park. I’ll ride you like a cowboy at a rodeo.” And then I winked. Poor boy, his eyes went wide and by the time I got to “rodeo” he blushed and excused himself. I ran over and smacked Logan on the back of his blonde head for ruining the coffee boy.
So now, it’s my turn. What to do, what to do?
Within this world of sight and sound
Overwhelming, at times, though it be;
There is a place that’s just for me
A place I call Serenity!
Life has sucked for most of my years
And joy from it was drained;
But as that may be, my life has changed
Because of this place, Serenity!
Sometimes it is hard to find
And others it’s a breeze;
Regardless my scene I always find
My place called Serenity
It is a state of being
That calm in spite of the storms;
It’s a place to wait out
The trials of life
This place called Serenity.
When stress tries to destroy
And sap strength and joy
And leave me crumpled and weeping,
My soul will crawl all the way back
To this place called Serenity.
Logan and I are brother and sister. We live together. He is my rescuer and my hero. He is also the target of my mischief most of the time. And I am the target of his mischief.
It all began when he first moved me in with him. I have my own room and my own lav. However, when I’m in the shower, Logan would wait until I started singing (which drives him nuts) and he would flush his toilet. Suddenly, mid-song, all the cold water would disappear and I would get a bit of a scalding. He claimed my scream was much more pleasant than my singing. Little bastard.
So, whilst HE slept, I stealthily crept in with my ninja-like skills, and sewed all of his boxers together in one long chain. Oh my word, such profanity I heard the following morning would have melted granite! Ah…..sweet revenge.
Logan know that I like my tea. Do not fuck with my tea! Every morning whilst my tea is steeping, I get dressed then pour the tea into my thermos and off to work I go. Well, Dr. Sneakydrawers waited until I had just put my tea on to steep and put a jalapeno in to steep with the tea and when he heard me coming up the hall, snatched it out and ate it. Imagine my surprise when I went to the rooftop for lunch, wave at my redheaded, bespectacled, across-the-alley gawker, and pour my tea. I thought it tasted a bit off, but halfway through my cup I was racing around the roof trying to find the water spigot. I finally found one with no hose so I was practically standing on my head sucking down as much water as I could and giving my gawker the best view of my panda pantied ass he’s ever had.
Again, I relied on my wicked ninja skills, and while he slept, I painted his fingernails Bubblegum Pink and reset his alarm so he would have 15 minutes less time to get ready to catch the train. Logan is not exactly a morning person, meaning he’s not fully paying attention until he gets his coffee. Thus, when his alarm went off 15 minutes late, he had to dash. He didn’t notice his nails until he was on the train and someone told him how pretty they were. I did not realize that he had a presentation to make at work that morning, so he had to scramble to get to the pharm to get some fingernail polish remover. But not before his co-workers got a good giggle out of it.
Last night, he replaced my body lotion with mayonnaise. So when I got my shower and applied my “lotion” it was fucking disgusting! It took another two hot showers to get that nastiness off! And I’m still smelling it while I’m at work today!
What to do? What to do?
I hear people talking quite a bit about how they are downtrodden and they will never be able to enjoy the privilege of some other group, and in my mind I am screaming “IF YOU HAD LIVED MY LIFE FOR 22 YEARS YOU WOULD LOVE WHERE YOU ARE NOW!” But I keep quiet because no one would listen.
When did we become such spoiled little entitled whiny bitches? If you want your station in life to improve then improve it! We are so quick to spout off excuse after excuse after excuse as to why we can’t. And I will openly admit, I spent years making excuses why I couldn’t leave the Grunge, so I just endured his torture and torment. When I was FINALLY convinced that I had the power to improve my station in life, I got out and am working toward making my life better. No, I may never have an expensive car, expensive clothes, expensive place to live, but I will have what I need.
Freedom, to me, means living without making excuses. If I fuck up, admit it, take the consequences, and move on. If I want something, I save my money to get it or learn to make it myself (btw, you do NOT want me to invite you to dinner. My cooking SUCKS!).
I am of Asian/Hispanic/Questionable heritage. I don’t look at skin color or accent or hair color, or body type. I don’t really care what the outside looks like. Are you a good and gentle person? Are you kind? Are you caring? Do we have common interests? Do we enjoy each others’ company? And trust me, I can pick up on the stench of bullshit!
We spend so much time complaining and whining and moaning and groaning, instead of caring and making a difference that we have lost focus of the freedom of life!
I actually bought a bra on Saturday, much to my surprise, they had one for the flat of chest. I wore it Sunday and half of Monday. It felt like I was wearing a bullet proof vest, so during lunch break, I went to the roof as I normally do, and sure enough the googly eyed red haired guy was across the alley working on his computer. We have developed a rather “long distance” relationship, when I come up for lunch, he looks at me through his window, smiles and waves. When I stood on the ledge and took off my bra and let it fall into the alley, I think his imagination must have had a meltdown. His face hit the window hard enough for his glasses to break. But I felt free!
Free from confinement. Free to just be!
I love listening to music. Especially classical music. My favorite composer is Antonio Vivaldi. Now I know classical music is boring as hell to most people, but I get the strangest looks when I am walking to work with my earbuds playing Vivaldi in my ears and the people driving or walking by me can only see me trying to conduct the symphony. Rather like a stork spasming. But that’s okay. I’m learning to be who I am instead of who I was brought up to be.
Logan teases me too, when he hears me singing along with the radio in my shower. The acoustics in the shower are fantastic…..as long as one has talent for singing. But I like singing so Logan can kiss a toad! He told me that he was going to record me singing and use it as his new Wake Up Alarm because nothing makes him want to leave the house like me singing.
Anyway, work has been wonderful. Being kept VERY busy working with the new computer system. My stitches were taken out (by the doctor) and no real permanent damage other than yet another scar. So I have been released to watch Sister Thomasina’s Self-Defense Class, but not participate for another two weeks.
We also adopted a rescue dog. He’s SO adorable and loves to snuggle with me. He’s part pitbull and part a lot of other breeds. Apparently, his mother had pretty much the same life I had, so we are just mutts together.
Started a cooking class at the Adult Annex and haven’t burned anything as yet, which is a plus. I did however undercook the rice on the first try so my Vegetable Rice with Chicken was…..like chewing gravel. But progress…..yesterday, I fixed a cake that actually looked like a cake and was edible!
I found this poem really made me think and feel like the writer was looking directly into my soul.
Desperately weary
From life’s trudgery
And drudgery,
I wandered to escape
The numbness of my heart
And the heartlessness
That had become my cup.
Wandered I aimlessly
Until upon a ruin
I happened upon.
Entering, I felt uneasy peace.
My eyes closed in weariness
And in my dream
Heard I a voice:
“Why came you here?”
My reply:
“To find rest.”
The Voice, deep and commanding, spake:
“Get thee hence, for peace resides not here!”
My heart sank.
Again came the voice, softer this time:
“Why came you here?”
My reply:
“To find comfort.”
The voice didst boom in command:
“Get thee hence, for comfort resides not here!”
My spirit was weary.
A third time came the voice,
This time a whisper:
“Why came you here?”
My reply was tinged with tears and struggle:
“To find forgiveness.”
The voice, gently replied:
“My child, Et ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Go now absolved, and be free.”
My soul didst find wings and fly.
Next dawn, my lifeless shell was found within the old structure.
My heart was stopped.
My spirit died.
My soul had flown to freedom.
And my face bore a smile of peace
For the first time.
On The Other Side Of Darkness 
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