So, as most people do, I sleep. Unlike most people, my dreams typically depict a time in the future, and are usually something that I can connect with a specific instance. However, this dream was absolutely bonkers and is something that I hope never happens to me in my life. My guess is that it was a combination of watching Howard the Duck, Big Brother After Dark, and Foamy's Rant that led to such a crazy dream...
I was with a few friends, and we were road tripping across the desert in the middle of the night. The car was rolling along when we realized we were starting to get low on gas. Up ahead, a solitary beacon of light caught our attention: an old Texaco gas station decorated to look like a giant cactus. The four of us quickly stumbled from our sanctuary within the car that had been our capsule throughout our journey and decided to journey to the restrooms. One of us had the presence of mind to actually have the keys and lock the doors to our car so we wouldn't be stranded in the middle of the desert at the gas station we all called "Magnum Cactus" without phone service or much of a link to the outside world aside from the dinky little television the store clerk had to watch reruns of Gilligan's Island.
A sign pointed downstairs to depict the restroom location, and being the brave one - okay, maybe the one who had to go pee the worst - I decided to walk down the rickety flight of stairs first. The downstairs of this strange gas station was questionable and looked rather dirty from the little light that was available. I found something that looked rather like a toilet and started to head that way...when I realized that there were several of what I thought were stuffed animals in the way...but was horrified to find out that these were actually stuffed sexual organs. We joked about wading in a sea of boobs and dicks, and then kept searching for a bathroom. At this point, I was about to pee my pants. A bathroom had better appear almost instantly, or else I was going to be in trouble.
After walking past a room of scantily clad individuals that looked as though they were trapped and had not seen sunlight in at least a year, we finally found the bathrooms to discover that they were the one person only sort. Not being brave enough to go in alone after all of the sights that we had seen on our journey, we debated simply going and peeing outside to avoid diseases. As one person held the door open, someone would relieve themselves and quickly rotate to the sink to wash their hands. I think all of us had visions of hand sanitizer dancing in our heads knowing that it was out in the car.
Having finally managed to find a bathroom, we then decided to try to retrace our steps back upstairs so we could grab a snack and get gas as that was our original reason for stopping. We once again walked past the underground dwellers and waded through the pit of stuffed boobs and dicks with a few stops for pictures to prove where we had been. After finally making it to the staircase, we were hopeful to see a bit of normalcy.
No such luck. As we reached the top of the staircase, the clerk stood there brandishing a gun and demanding that we turn around and head back down. Once again, being the dumb individual who decided to walk in front, I now had a sawed-off shotgun pointed at me that could have blown me and my friends into two very separated nasty halves around the waist level. Our options were to take our chances with the armed clerk or to go downstairs and join the palest people we had ever seen and pray that someone realized we were missing soon. Being risk-takers - I mean, why else would you drive across the desert? - we decided on option #1 without speaking a word to one another, and I jumped toward our once-upon-a-time friendly store clerk who had been all too eager to point us on our way to the restroom. After a desperate struggle, we finally managed to tie up the store clerk, left money for our gas that we purchased on the counter, and open the doors for the others downstairs to escape what surely must have been some sort of brothel.
This is the point where I woke up to the rude alarm that decides to interrupt dreams.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
when the beat stops
it happens occasionally. the central beat, the rhythm that causes blood to flow continually through my veins, simply stops. it could be at anytime. it could be anywhere. something that other people find frightening, i find completely normal. why? because i have faith. i believe that even though the beat may stop temporarily, my heart is simply trying to find its own beat. i do have a heart murmur...congenital. for a while, it was questionable whether or not i should have been participating in any athletic activities, although i refused to quit because my syncopation caused others concern.
rather than gliding gracefully with a smooth, steady beat, my heart has been stuck in some sort of jazz rhythm my entire life. one of the most amazing things to me is listening to others heartbeat...the slow, steady, constant beat is something that will never fail to be one of the most precious sounds i have ever heard, simply because it is one thing that i cannot rely upon myself to do.
i've always fibbed when you do the cute little things in class where you take your pulse to find out your resting and active heart rate. when your heart doesn't beat normally, it's difficult to tell how to count. whenever i go to the wellness center [usually for the free salt packets and occasional note for missing class haha just kidding, i'm probably actually sick if i'm going there], the nurses always comment on how odd it sounds. reassuring, right? how do you expect someone not trained in such a field to know what to do if someone who is trained is unable to properly tell and has to call a doctor over for what should be simple preliminary information gathering?
as cher would say, the beat goes on. you know what? she's right.
rather than gliding gracefully with a smooth, steady beat, my heart has been stuck in some sort of jazz rhythm my entire life. one of the most amazing things to me is listening to others heartbeat...the slow, steady, constant beat is something that will never fail to be one of the most precious sounds i have ever heard, simply because it is one thing that i cannot rely upon myself to do.
i've always fibbed when you do the cute little things in class where you take your pulse to find out your resting and active heart rate. when your heart doesn't beat normally, it's difficult to tell how to count. whenever i go to the wellness center [usually for the free salt packets and occasional note for missing class haha just kidding, i'm probably actually sick if i'm going there], the nurses always comment on how odd it sounds. reassuring, right? how do you expect someone not trained in such a field to know what to do if someone who is trained is unable to properly tell and has to call a doctor over for what should be simple preliminary information gathering?
as cher would say, the beat goes on. you know what? she's right.
Friday, August 6, 2010
In Tongues.
The tiger doesn't have a best friend. Never has. Always hunts alone. The wins and the losses are celebrated with the same routine: a slow, careful assessment of what went right and what can be improved for the future, because even with the leanest, most unhealthful diet the tiger lives on to see another day.
The opponents slice away at the reputation of the tiger with each and every day that the stomach continues to growl. Far more than the stomach growls - the soul hungers for something more: to belong. The stripes have never been accepted.
The opponents slice away at the reputation of the tiger with each and every day that the stomach continues to growl. Far more than the stomach growls - the soul hungers for something more: to belong. The stripes have never been accepted.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Waiting Rooms and Soap Operas
Today is not a typical Wednesday. I haven't had a typical Wednesday in quite some time, come to think of it.
Today's scenery features some accommodating-looking benches and seats that look as though no one sits in them for extended periods of time sprawled throughout a waiting room. I've discovered why no one would want to sit in these chairs - and might have a hard time sitting still during the journey north tomorrow. For once, I'm doing the waiting. It seems strange. Elderly men are scattered throughout this room, as their wives are anxiously checking to ensure everything is okay closer to the surgery center. At this particular moment, there are no small children waiting. The peace is interrupted only by the clicking of keys on my keyboard, the frustrated flips of magazine pages by one rather cranky-looking man, and two televisions maybe 20 feet apart from each other struggling to be more annoying. The large windows allow me to look out into the parking lot, the busy road in front of the center, and slightly beyond that to the next set of parking lots. Medical Mile offers little in the way of actual scenery.
The small concessions made for comfort consist of a coffee dispenser. For those that drink coffee, that might help make the wait bearable. Wise to the ways of hospitals, I brought along my own giant water bottle and several snack options. Trust me, I'm not a fat kid. I'm just looking out for my survival, since I have been in this room for 6 overwhelmingly enjoyable hours now. Conveniently, the waiting room is also decently close to a large vending machine that I know better than to use [it likes to eat my money and leave me staring longingly at the empty calories proudly displayed inside] and bathrooms that evidently missed out on the building-wide remodeling project. A small box of actual Kleenex sits atop the registration counter.
The truly amazing thing about this room would have to be the number of hand-sanitizer dispensers one can find throughout. Despite the lack of wall space that isn't already covered with some attempt of looking cultured or refined, there are no less than 6 dispensers to be found in this rather strange waiting room. When I want to stretch my legs for a bit, I decide upon a path to take me past each and every one of them. I also make sure to use all of them, mostly to further the opinion that young people are strange to all those who surround me in this tiny cubicle of germ infestation.
As I journeyed from one hand sanitizer dispenser to the next, I realized that each and every one of them featured a different brand posted on the outside. Hospitals know far more than one would think about making sure they get the best deal for themselves...and evidently have no issues with mounting another hand sanitizer dispenser in order to obtain some free germ-killing liquid goodness.
If nothing else, I have enjoyed borrowing your wireless internet for the day, waiting room. The other thing I have appreciated - how well the various soap operas and television shows fit together seamlessly in one plot as both televisions are blasted at volumes necessary to ensure that all present are able to hear. iCarly and the Young and Restless is quite the combination if you get bored.
Today's scenery features some accommodating-looking benches and seats that look as though no one sits in them for extended periods of time sprawled throughout a waiting room. I've discovered why no one would want to sit in these chairs - and might have a hard time sitting still during the journey north tomorrow. For once, I'm doing the waiting. It seems strange. Elderly men are scattered throughout this room, as their wives are anxiously checking to ensure everything is okay closer to the surgery center. At this particular moment, there are no small children waiting. The peace is interrupted only by the clicking of keys on my keyboard, the frustrated flips of magazine pages by one rather cranky-looking man, and two televisions maybe 20 feet apart from each other struggling to be more annoying. The large windows allow me to look out into the parking lot, the busy road in front of the center, and slightly beyond that to the next set of parking lots. Medical Mile offers little in the way of actual scenery.
The small concessions made for comfort consist of a coffee dispenser. For those that drink coffee, that might help make the wait bearable. Wise to the ways of hospitals, I brought along my own giant water bottle and several snack options. Trust me, I'm not a fat kid. I'm just looking out for my survival, since I have been in this room for 6 overwhelmingly enjoyable hours now. Conveniently, the waiting room is also decently close to a large vending machine that I know better than to use [it likes to eat my money and leave me staring longingly at the empty calories proudly displayed inside] and bathrooms that evidently missed out on the building-wide remodeling project. A small box of actual Kleenex sits atop the registration counter.
The truly amazing thing about this room would have to be the number of hand-sanitizer dispensers one can find throughout. Despite the lack of wall space that isn't already covered with some attempt of looking cultured or refined, there are no less than 6 dispensers to be found in this rather strange waiting room. When I want to stretch my legs for a bit, I decide upon a path to take me past each and every one of them. I also make sure to use all of them, mostly to further the opinion that young people are strange to all those who surround me in this tiny cubicle of germ infestation.
As I journeyed from one hand sanitizer dispenser to the next, I realized that each and every one of them featured a different brand posted on the outside. Hospitals know far more than one would think about making sure they get the best deal for themselves...and evidently have no issues with mounting another hand sanitizer dispenser in order to obtain some free germ-killing liquid goodness.
If nothing else, I have enjoyed borrowing your wireless internet for the day, waiting room. The other thing I have appreciated - how well the various soap operas and television shows fit together seamlessly in one plot as both televisions are blasted at volumes necessary to ensure that all present are able to hear. iCarly and the Young and Restless is quite the combination if you get bored.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Workaholic Lifestyle
It's very difficult for me to "take a break" or "relax". Of course, I can do these things, but I prefer to work nonstop [or as nonstop as possible] with little regard to what day of the week it is or what time of the day/night it happens to be. To most people, this is a problem. To me, it's a way of life.
I believe in giving my all. If something needs to be done, I'm going to take the time to do it right.It's not that I don't have fun. Quite the opposite, really. I believe I'm there for my friends when they need me, and I know I've got friends outside of the computer. At least they pretend to like me, and they aren't in my imagination.
Everyone's life is different. So give them a chance to be themselves without having to struggle through judgment for how they choose to use their time. I have always been one to massively overpack, and with my time, I am no different. Sitting aimlessly has never been for me. How do you pack your days?
I believe in giving my all. If something needs to be done, I'm going to take the time to do it right.It's not that I don't have fun. Quite the opposite, really. I believe I'm there for my friends when they need me, and I know I've got friends outside of the computer. At least they pretend to like me, and they aren't in my imagination.
Everyone's life is different. So give them a chance to be themselves without having to struggle through judgment for how they choose to use their time. I have always been one to massively overpack, and with my time, I am no different. Sitting aimlessly has never been for me. How do you pack your days?
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
I can feel something inside me say "I really don't think you're strong enough."
Challenges.
We stand tall.
The brute force
and the distaste of
others will always lead
me to want nothing
more than to say
goodbye to all
that I know.
This poem is as unlike me as it gets. I am the overly determined person who doesn't like it when others rain on my parade. Yes, I know, the glass is NOT overflowing with positive energy and commitment. I'm no fool. At the same time, it's important to be optimistic.
I don't start something halfheartedly. I am in it to win it. I give it my all, and am not satisfied until I can sense that I have made great strides and changed something for the better. While it's simple to simply allow things to "continue on as they always have and always will", this particular mindset is the one that makes me most determined to be open to change. Traditions will have their place, and while there are those traditions I love dearly, it's important to also stay in the present.
My mindset has been in the wrong place lately. My worries have led me to focus less than I should. My attentions have been pulled away by matters that I cannot influence as heavily as I wish.
What I can do is stay strong, keep working hard, and always keep in mind that a to-do list is not a contract for each and every day, but rather that I need to make sure to stay sane and balanced with all that I do. While I appreciate the additional responsibilities that others have entrusted me to execute, I also am concerned that no one, least of all myself, has a real understanding of what I am supposed to do to make this all become reality. I'm sure I'll figure it. Eventually.
We stand tall.
The brute force
and the distaste of
others will always lead
me to want nothing
more than to say
goodbye to all
that I know.
This poem is as unlike me as it gets. I am the overly determined person who doesn't like it when others rain on my parade. Yes, I know, the glass is NOT overflowing with positive energy and commitment. I'm no fool. At the same time, it's important to be optimistic.
I don't start something halfheartedly. I am in it to win it. I give it my all, and am not satisfied until I can sense that I have made great strides and changed something for the better. While it's simple to simply allow things to "continue on as they always have and always will", this particular mindset is the one that makes me most determined to be open to change. Traditions will have their place, and while there are those traditions I love dearly, it's important to also stay in the present.
My mindset has been in the wrong place lately. My worries have led me to focus less than I should. My attentions have been pulled away by matters that I cannot influence as heavily as I wish.
What I can do is stay strong, keep working hard, and always keep in mind that a to-do list is not a contract for each and every day, but rather that I need to make sure to stay sane and balanced with all that I do. While I appreciate the additional responsibilities that others have entrusted me to execute, I also am concerned that no one, least of all myself, has a real understanding of what I am supposed to do to make this all become reality. I'm sure I'll figure it. Eventually.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
a school assignment.
Snapshots. Memories.
A lifetime to say hello, a moment to say goodbye.
You know that you are starting with nothing, and struggling to build.
You’ve studied and scrambled for every break you get.
Being the young one is tough sometimes. At least it’s only a number.
Needing help from others is not a sign of weakness, but of opportunity that you are blessed with.
It’s difficult to close the door on the people who hurt you.
It’s worse to know that you’re being the bigger person and bleeding inside.
You struggle through each and every moment, pretending to be happy.
Speak up.
[Listen to: Photograph: Nickelback, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB0DU4DoPP4
It isn’t going to be the end of the world to be known as the girl who spoke her mind.
You’ll see that tomorrow comes even if you end today completely mortified.
Being the girl who has to leave prom for medical reasons is one way to be remembered.
You’ll know that no matter what happens, you must keep in touch with yourself.
You’ll stay strong, be proud, and sing along to every song that blasts from the cheap radio.
Dance even through it is raining, scream because it hurts, and love because you can.
Staying strong is about so much more than making sure that everyone else is okay.
You have to be whole first.
[Listen to: Headstrong: Trapt, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTvu1Yr3Ohk
Your cocoon will soon be bursting open as you kiss the small-town life goodbye.
Leaving to go to college is something that you’ve longed for since junior high.
You’ve known all along that you were going to dash away the first chance you got.
Minimizing connections, trying hard to make sure that you do just enough to seem normal.
You struggle with the concept that you may someday need to come back to this place.
Remember, the world is an entire globe, not the tip of one pin.
Raise your voices, raise them high will do more than be a song lyric.
It will be the way to live.
[Listen to: Raise Your Voices: Girls State Song, (I am NOT filming this epic performance, but can do it!)
Beauty isn’t about the money people spend on clothes or the time they spend putting on makeup.
You’ve realized a long time ago that you’re surrounded by ugliness of the soul and heart.
The people who want to change you, make you into something you’re not are soon forgotten.
Simply because they themselves have decided to get lost…in the world of pretty facades.
They lose themselves into the bottles and cans of alcohol that are so freely available
And fail to recognize the true potential of what they could be, if only…
[Listen to: Breakaway: Kelly Clarkson, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-3vPxKdj6o
The songs of childhood, so simple and sweet.
The songs of adolescents make your parents wonder what sort of monster you’ve hidden inside.
As you turn it up, simply to drown everything out, you don’t realize the scope of your actions.
You’re tuning out far more than other people, you’re reverting to a time of simplicity.
The times alone mean so much, for you finally get to think.
The only interruption is the brief pause between songs.
Your chin quivers as you think about the pain you went through over the past several years
You write, scribble, write, scribble, and are unsure of what to say to wash the pain away
Your commencement address is one that contains nothing of what you want to say
But the hidden message is very clear to those you hold dear:
Run away. Don’t invest your time, your love, your passion here. The small town kills it all.
The people are poison. They invite you in, pretend to be polite.
Acceptance is only for those who join in their crusade. For the others, you’ll never be allowed in.
[Listen to: Kryptonite: 3 Doors Down, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPU8OAjjS4k
But does it matter? You can decide. You’ll make choices you’ll regret, but you’ll learn.
Each and every step, every boy you kiss, and every time your heart breaks, you see.
It will only lead you into becoming a stronger woman that others will never understand.
This may seem like gibberish now, but bear with me, for only time can tell.
You’ll make mistakes, to be sure. You’ll hurt in ways I can’t explain, but you’ll persevere.
No matter what comes your way – and trust me, it’ll come – you will be able to stand your own.
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