http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/05_04_2005.html

A Tale of Mothers and inexplicable poop stories.

thanks to Dooce!

Ego Boost:

I hung out with my dearest, asian friend Susie after many months of NOT hanging out with her. i don't know why that is - poor poor judgement and planning on my part. but trust me, that's gonna change. we had the pleasure of watching Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2, and lo and behold - i finally saw where i knew the Vonage song from. such a catchy tune... in such a violent movie. defines america doesn't it? anyways, susie's 4 year old daughter, Naomi, is quite cute and funny. last week when i called susie's house, naomi demanded to be on the phone to "say something." i hear the phone shuffle into her hands only to be interrupted with this direct, high-pitched statement:
"i have cheetos."
oh, so cute right? oh yes. my ice heart melty a little. but - back to last saturday...
susie told me that naomi really likes me. and when she hears her say my name, she says, "aw, i want to see her face."
ice heart almost...turning...into...normal...heart.....*gurgle.

Made me Smile:

since i absolutely adore the word "face" and its use in any type of sentence, i couldn't help but be in highest of spirits. susie told me, "oh wait, it gets funnier. she goes over to our friends' house that have all the cats, and she'd chase them around and stuff ya know. but they'd all run away from her and she'd run up to me and say, 'the kitties don't like my face!"

Ego Bust:

well, susie also works with me, and i enjoy her presence for a few hours every weekday. another character in this plot, is Afatia. i. love. afatia. to. death. (and that's pronounced 'ah-fah-tee-ah'. it means "hurricane". lol.) she's this Samoan lady with a taste for hip hop and a tongue for lashing. she's got this attitude that can make you laugh till you want to cry, while scaring the crap out of you at the same time. for example: i'd say to her, "man, this guy said this really crappy thing to me..." and she'd say,
"you want me to go beat him up for you? shoot, I'LL SIT ON HIS ASS."
ahh yes. she's freakin cool. and flippin witty man. so. witty! ah!
anyways, there was a roach in our office, and it was over by afatia's desk, but shortly after, traveled really close to my desk. and you know what? i was raised to kill insects. you live in an apt. in Queens, and you know you're killin every insect in that damn apt. and the roaches in NY are overbearing almost. um, back to what i was saying - i was about to stomp that mofo out, when susie whimpers, "noooo....don't kill it..." and grabs a box lid to transport it in. we finally wrangle it into our desired location, and she goes outside to let it roam free and mate and create millions of other roaches. afatia had come back into the office while this happened, and i asked her if she would've killed it, or let it live, like our Lover of Life susie did. she said, "shoot, i never kill none of them. i just let them be, or take them outside. except for spiders. well, the daddy-long-legs i let be, but the other ones, yeah. i kill them." and we all agreed that spiders were extinguishable creatures, but i said, "man, i don't care what it is. if it has an exo-skeleton, i'm killin it. there are all these red'n'black beetles right outside the doors here, and their butts are always stuck together cuz they're matin n stuff, ya know, and i stomp 'em man. i killed two couples yesterday."
to which afatia replied, "oh, just cuz YOU ain't gettin none..."

and to conclude, a quote from the notorious rapper, Chamillionaire - found at the end of the track "Ridin' Dirty."
~Damn. I done spilled my drink.~

I just got off the phone with Adam, after reflecting for 15 minutes of course. my hand hurts from holding the phone so tightly, and my shoulders are worn from being tense. why is that? it's not just him that i tense on the phone for... it's everyone. i don't know why. conversating for me is one of the hardest things i face on a daily basis. i had discussed this with adam. one of the many things we had the pleasure of communicating. we manage to blow each other's minds almost every time we talk. he's a very special person, and i like to assume he knows that.
we talked about fear. about being alone. about just wanting to be by ourselves, and not put time, effort, or energy into other people. he said so many things that i understood completely. he's going through things that i've gone through myself, and it was reassuring. it was nice to talk to someone, who didn't raise an eyebrow, who didn't laugh it off, or disregard his emotions or thoughts. he embraces himself... that inner dialogue that's constantly going through all of our minds - and he has no problems talking about it. i like that. i haven't talked to anyone who so openly puts it out there. i told him we weren't born with fear. fear is an outside thing we experience - it's not in us.
so of course he asks, "well, where does it come from? we know it can be a lot of things, but if we agree that it's universal... it has to be one thing that every human being knows and experiences."

...and within a few lingering moments, we agreed that... that fear... is being alone...

i remember being 2 or 3 and following my mom back into our apt in NY because she had forgotten something. she was holding my brother and my dad was out in the car. she grabbed what she needed and walked out the door, and shut it, right in front of my face. i had no idea what i felt exactly, but i just reacted. i started screaming and pounding on the door, trying to get her to come back. it seemed an eternity had passed before i heard her keys in the door...
but that fear of being left... of being alone... completely unbearable. and it wasn't a horrible thing that happened, i mean, i didn't lose any limbs or choke on anything. it was an honest mistake - humans make mistakes. but i guess we all had to experience that at one point, one way, or another. being alone is inevitable... and in some ways our society demands that of us... to be alone, to not need anyone or anything, but instead to need our basic desires. it's tricky. living life is so hard. it seems like everything is against us, that the world is a horrible place. and indeed, most of it is. what is this world that we live in? why do i always feel like i need to separate myself from it and the people in it? from the people around me? why do i feel like i don't need to care about certain people, and do everything in my power to get what i want or feel that i deserve? it just doesn't make sense. nothing in life really makes sense to me. i just live it. and i look to God to guide me through it, because doing it on my own never got me far enough.

i can say though, i've learned that people are amazing, and that i do need them. i need them to be alive and experience this world with me. i do need to respect everyone and love them for who they are. especially myself. so what if i don't know how to relate to anyone? big deal if i have a hard time connecting with anyone. obviously i was meant to connect with a few people, and be the best person i can be to everyone else. and i need to stop avoiding things in my life that i know need to be dealt with. i have to trust that there is good in the world - and that i can help that, or stifle it.

i always have the choice, don't i?

consciousness.


Call Ended
1:40:04

So, I was reading a few well-written blogs last week, and I realized – that I sounded like a total child in mine. All I had to do was read a few of my posts as if I was a stranger... And I thought, wow, I totally sound like a bewildered 14 year old who’s stepped in gum on her first day of school. So moral of the story: I’m going to change my voice a little bit. I’m going to change my process a bit. I used to open up the blogger window and type my post straight into it and upload it -only going back for spelling and grammar cheques. So in actuality, that really is the way I talk. And I’d like to promise that I don’t sound so annoying in real life – but I can’t. I have no way of knowing whether or not you think my writing/voice is annoying. Nor would It matter. all that really matters is what I think or feel insecure about, and thus – what was the point of this? Oh yrd. <--(not a spelling error – just an inside joke). Now I’m going to try to write the post in its entirety, and edit it. Maybe not so many “umm, uhhh, and seriously’s.” I’d like my writing to say, “why, this girl seems downright fortuitous for a 24 year old,” or something lame like that. This is a learning process after all isn’t it? Oh come on, don’t worry my friend. It’s going to be great. It’s going to be fantastic. It’s going to be like the first time your teacher asked for homework assignments in pen instead of pencil…
Hmm.
Remember that day?
Glorious wasn’t it.

…I can still remember the way the paper smelled when I laid ink on it for the first time…

I had a crazy dream last night. No, this morning. I went to bed last night around 10:30 and suddenly awoke to a “chill” that encompassed my body at 1:30 am. My eyes shuddered open to a flashing grid pattern – as if I had stared into the sun, and the sun was a grid – and the contrast of light and dark made everything dance around the room. And my left arm was asleep. Maybe the Matrix is real…
uhhh…still didn’t stop me from crawling into bed with my mom – thaz all I’m sayin.
Sometime in the morning though, I had a dream of much lighter substance. I read Ruth out of the Bible right before I went to sleep, and Ruth ends with some genealogy of Perez. And I know a guy (last name) named Perez, so coincidentally, Perez and his wife were in my dream.

I was taking Jeremy to see my old college, which was WT, but it looked like the college I walked around at in Pakistan with my cousins. I told Jeremy,
“I need to find Nick Lachey and get my picture taken with him. We went to college together. He’s such a great guy, I don’t know why I never talked to him until now.”
And Jeremy didn’t want to believe me, but as we walked over the campus hillside, there he was, standing with Mital and Ty by the Arts building.
“See! I told you Nick went to college with me!” but before we could get over there, Jeremy yells to an invisible group of people, and Carisima, Alma, Kayna, Autumn, Adam, and Perez and his wife all just show up – and get in my way of going to see Nick Lachey. Next thing I know, I’m leaning against a car with a sandwich baggie containing 3 chocolate chip cookies. Frustrated that all these people had shown up to block my interaction with Nick Lachey – I look down at my cookies – and I knew Perez was eyein my cookies too. He walks over and sticks his hand in the baggie (which has now grown to like, ziplock freezer bag size) – and I get pissed and grab his wrist from outside the bag. His eyes shot wide and he does a strange frenchman’s laugh – and turned his hand to tickle the underside of my forearm, still laughing frenchmanly.

Oh man, it tickled strangely so much that I woke up, and I got pissed again – that I STILL didn’t get to meet up with Nick Lachey. *sigh

Oh…We’ll have our time Nick…don’t you worry your pretty little head…

And I can’t wait to see what happens at the end of Esther. I hope my dream has coconut cream pie instead… and maybe… Channing Tatum...

mmmm…

ps. right before the picture was taken, the kitten whispered,
"now would be a great time to quit smoking, dick."