Tuesday, August 28, 2007

pfffftt

this year i am not crying.

pfft.

i could.

i won't.

it's an indulgence. i can no longer afford them.

when we're young, crying brings comfort -- coos, flutters, arms, food, fluids, flutters ... light... dark... music... quiet. someone who cares comes to help. to make you feel better. to stop the crying. to console. to let you know you're safe in the world.

the complex proteins contained in tears are stress-related. granted, we don't all have the same breaking point, yet the chemistry is constant. what changes is the unquantifiable: how do you feel after? better? worse? the same? does your cat or dog get afraid or lick your hands that are salty with tears? do your kids cower because mommy is crying, or come running with hugs? i could count on one hand how many times i have seen men cry. i think that gives me a skewed view. or does it? dunno.


nothing feels certain or right. i hate that. yet everyday, i do what i should. why the hell? really?

it's a stunning moon tonight. low and so full. like a cartoon, really, cuz it seems so close. like i can see the cheese.

my non-sequiturs and i must go to bed.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

mess

there was a time when i had nothing to explain
oh, this mess i have made
but then things got complicated
my innocence has all but faded
oh, this mess i have made

and i don't believe in god
so i can't be saved
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess i have made

all the untested virtue
the things i said i'd never do
least of all to you
i know he's kind and true
i know that he is good to you
he'll never care for you more than i dobut i don't believe in love
and i can't be changed
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess
i have made the same mistakes
over and over again

there are rooms in this house that i don't open anymore
dusty books of pictures on the floor
that she will never see
she'll never see that part of me
i want to be for her
what i could never be for you

but i don't believe in god
so i can't be saved
all alone as i've learned to be
in this mess i have made

~~ben folds





Sunday, August 19, 2007

sunday in the park

surely, somebody else there tonight was named george, but i just wanted to walk and watch, not engage.

these last days stoopid, but tonight i got a bit of respite -- patio dinner in town with a dear friend. we were treated like royalty, lol, my title even printed on the check next to an absurd promo amount. the night was too nice, too clean and fresh, for me to duck underground. just no. i've been poisoned and smothered by stain and glue and paint lately; so out and up and walk.

in a few short blocks, the green peace of the country's first public park wrapped around me. it was cool, quiet, yet full of people. it's august, and the euro is humiliating the dollar, so lots of them foreign types meandering about wearing sandals with socks,
flogging cartoon maps, and taking up all the space on crossbridges while snapping pix.

girls burdened in burkas playing murderball! yes! lol, i imagine they do have anger management issues...

1st date on a bench. she with artfully dishevelled hair saying, "and whenever you say you're going to call, you BETTER call..." i could see him already running from the whip crack...

3-card monty guys, still!

frisbee, catch, doggie-fetch, softball, tennis, busking.

it was a perfect city night. really.

i love living here.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

pennies

i was that person tonight. fancy bag and expensive shoes. my outfit worth far more than i now make in a month. carefully parsing the percentage between loaves of bread -- dollars, ounces, fiber -- i might have looked cheap, but i am just on that tight of a string. dust in the account, atm card uesless and i long ago cut up the evil cards. only X amount of dollars each week. not enough X. not nearly.

so there i was, pondering loaves like i might make them somehow magically feed the multitudes. i wouldn't be caught short at the register, out of fear of looking stoopid more than broke. i swear, i've bought cars more decisively than that ciabatta tonight. it's humbling. it's hard. it keeps getting harder. it's not impossible.

right?

Monday, August 13, 2007

turn back the clock

by day 2, i was already back to weird vampiric night-crawling hours. by day 3, i was up til 5. got home at 2:00, didn't *feel* sleepy, so thought, "oh, i'll just have some wine and work on these spread sheets." finally turned my head around and it was light out. dozed a bit, and of course at work i looked and felt terrible and my mind was silly putty.

ack. how did i do that all those years?

this morning i was back up with the early birds with no effort. up even before the alarm. then kept awake by jackhammers, lol. so i put my nose down and finished the BIG one. i think the owner knows how impossible it has been for me to *work* in that particular location. no time, no privacy, a trillion interruptions and the most ergonomically fucked up desk and chair i've ever encountered. had to twist like a pretzel. so finally caved and worked at home. where i did log my hours.

i feel very good about this. finally. small yeah for me. let's see what he lets me execute. it is what he hired for me and is a far sight better than what i inherited. we shall see. he might be on the golf course all damn day for all i know.

it's been ages since i've had two days off (even though i worked all morning, lol). no work, no class. it feels nice. particularly since i'm moments away from some ugly banking. ack.

will i ever climb out of this hole? what the fuck was i thinking? i relied upon something that rested on the thinnest twig. in past relationships i'd always been so conscious of "what should happen if i end up on my own?" and always structured it so i could manage. when and how did he implant the rcg's so i'd believe anything he said? i'm fucked every way, every day to sunday. the recent love letters from his note-holding barrister brother ... wtf was i thinking? i should have told them all to go to fuck themselves. instead, i stayed in my place, thinking there would be some kind of grace in it. idiot. he's just one more suit with a claw in both my side and my future.

i get mentally straightjacketed when i've got too many conflicts, too many choices, too many decisions. hell, an overly-large dinner menu befuddles me. now i've got too many problems seemingly in a gordian knot, and it's never ever been this bad before. i've been aridly broke and lived on rice and lentils more than once, but i wasn't spooning them up from the bottom of a well of debt. a hole that gets deepened daily by my inability even to get one leg up. a toe-hold. something. no one to ask for advice makes everything seem even worse. the editor, a very wealthy man and in charge of one of the top financial publications on earth, couldn't discuss money. i didn't want any actual lucre from him (he knew that) just some compass points of advice. impossible. how ridiculous and useless was that? (just another rant i have about him -- no point in more of that here.)

feh. it's time to face some music.

is that you fiddling, nero?




Wednesday, August 08, 2007

it's just ... nothing


it's the heat.

it's the humidity.

it's my period.

it's another job that brings little fulfillment.

it's another owner (cheapest yet!) who just tells his employees (us; me) they (we) suck. sure, in other words. feh.

it's being transient and having to carry all my files and notes and books everywhere i go because i don't even have a "place". or a goddamn laptop.

it's never having sufficient access to the one damn pc in this store's miniscule office to get any work done.

it's the ordering on my day off that should take 45 minutes, but drowns me in e-mails and phone calls for 3-4 hours.

it's being a filler (feeling like a scab) while construction continues and then made to feel like i'm being wedged in as a favor.

it's being blamed for shit that gm has let go down-hill since before my arrival. does he want me stepping on his toes?

it's having a desperate need for amusing or challenging or topical conversation during work. now i fucking dream about witty banter because i so rarely engage in it anymore.

it's wanting to go to nyc or paris or somewhere. someplace that's not on the "t", not here, for just a few days.

it's being so terrifyingly broke and feeling like it will never end. hmmm... new toothbrush? ummmmm... nah, maybe next week...

it's having nobody in whom to confide just everything. or anything.

it's wanting what and whom i can't have.

it's knowing she's still watching and stalking me electronically. it's knowing every time i think it to be so, i have proof it is. can i sell a used tinfoil hat on e-bay?

i just feel down and sad and empty and bad.

i know i passed my exam, but since i left the classroom, i've felt weirdly empty. i was edgy and anxious before and during it. but, then, *poof*. nada.

the fog burned off yesterday and it was entirely lovely; still, i hermitted. never changed. didn't eat til dark. no phone calls, minimal e-mails. i didn't want wine or a boiling bath. couldn't watch tv or read.

today i begin an unusual week of all closes, so perhaps my flip-flopped schedule will take my mind off the searing nothing that's in there.

maybe it wasn't the best time to end things with the editor but it all just felt so disingenuous i couldn't stand it, or myself, or him, anymore.

ack. what is it? or what isn't it?

Sunday, August 05, 2007

calling dr. freud

ack. i had the dream where i'm lost and naked in school. not totally naked. wrapped in one of my purple towels, but every corridor turned up something different and wrong.

the exam is tomorrow.

the international pass rate is 25%. 25%. the last group had a gimme for the tasting portion, and frankly even if tossed a monkey wrench, i feel confident about that bit, which is 50% of the mark. i find myself thinking that with so many non-professionals taking the course, that MUST drag down the pass rate considerably. i take for granted how many 1000s of wines i've tasted, and the knowledge i've gained by meeting and dining and drinking with 100s of winemakers and vineyard owners. meanwhile so many of my classmates were still struggling with identifying high acid in a wine. oof.

i'm just back from taking a walk. i'll peruse the books again, but not break my head open. i know i know this stuff.

it will be nice to be done with this phase and on break a few weeks. read something other than coursework. start posting here again. the frayed emotional threads have been all tightly wound in a big gordian knot in the back room of my brain for weeks.

feh. mixed blessing that.

in 24 hours i'll crack open that vintage veuve i've been saving. the one that tastes like toasted almonds and shitaake mushrooms. and cream. and celebrate taking control of this very big thing this year.