30 October 2004
i'm going to pa on tues to make sure bush doesnt get himself selected again.
i need to make pompoms.
t is supposed to come here tonight. yesterday was our five yr anniversary, yeah and i cried. i am trying to get through this but you know what, it's hard.
i need some time. like two months with no work. then i could process everything in my house and do a bit of writing. i have these bills piling up b/c i dont have time to take care of them.
i promise, after the marathon is over, i'm gonna be rockin rififi's fridays and opaline's saturdays. this running is wow....overwhelming.
29 October 2004
the marathon is a week and two days away. i am freaking out.
omigod. this is the mother of all races, this is the race you do to prove yrself. i hope i hope i hope i can finish.
there are butterflies in my stomach, i wish they would calm down. i'm going to get some carbohydrates in there with them, hopefully they'll feel better then.
everyone at my job, esp my boss, thinks i'm so optimistic. people love to complain, and certain people (my mom, t) will tell you i'm good at it. my boss complains a lot and there's such insane things going on at my job--who knows if this will exist next week? therefore i choose not to focus on it. i always highlight the good things...when it was freezing and our heat was so bad last winter at work, instead of complaining, i pointed to the workers on the side of the building on some flimsy scaffolding 18 stories up and said, "at least we're not doing that." it is so crappy all these things are happening...and i am hoping we do not have anything else happen in ny. but seriously, i mean, i'm not in iraq, i'm not sick with some disease that i know of, i am healthy, i CAN run and i can afford running shoes, i can afford to buy organic milk and eat food, i have a great bed and i have a warm place to sleep. sure there's some definite problems in my life (like the severe pms i've been having, chocolate or nothing else, or like the fact a chimp is running our country) but i'm trying to create change. like showing my butt and wearing short cheerleading costumes is a great way to do that. i have to do this thesis that i'm always bitching about but you know what--i'm so lucky to be getting an education! and sure my commute to queens college sucks--but at least i don't have to walk there.
i'm also reading a lot of thich nhat hanh and pema chodron to deal with the pain i feel and it helps dissipate it easier. okay a breakup--you know that all the good they gave you is always there. if someone dies they are also always there, strongly. i don't know if i believe in heaven or reincarnation or fate...although noa convinced me divine design had control. i don't know.
i believe in love. love is the one thing to me that is impt. and when yr with someone who doesn't believe it, well, then they have to realize that you are on a different path. those people are different.
i want to spread my love. i want to work with adults in literacy programs (hello, i am not a children person!) i want to help the world using direct action. sure that involves shaking my butt at rallies but you know what? that's fun. it keeps me going. i see these people bitching and complaining and what are they doing? nothing.
i have been unhappy and realized, hey, let's just do what is best. i mean, i only have one life. or one that i realize. i love living. i love my family, my kitty, my friends. i love t and v and the cheerleaders. v, who has slowly become one of my best friends lives in co but that makes us work on different levels. you know? you've got to focus on the positive.
it's so freakin hard tho. like, omigod i have this paper and that paper and i need to buy a food processor and blender b/c my love left with his and shit my floors are dirty and 8 people are coming to my apt tonight and five years is just that five years and nothing more.
andrew, if you're still here, pat on the back. i'm too naropa.
i am trying to balance everything and it's so hard. but i want to create positive change visible during my lifetime.
okay i still have pms. i'm going to eat some chocolate now.
28 October 2004
give sexual harassers a heart attack!
on my run this am, wearing not-so-sexy running clothes from college, the light is walk but one of those annoying massive trucks so common in greenpoint turned even tho i had the walk signal. fine. as soon as it's done, i cross, but this other large truck who HAD the red light honked at me. i gave him the finger. then the truck went through the red light and yelled at me, "don't give me the finger or i'll shove it up yr a**hole." i gave him the finger. then i cut down noble, where some guy made a kissy noise. i responded with a gagging noise.
i shouldn't have to live like this!
this is part of the reason most of my male friends, if not all, are gay.
my friend jen, who also grew up in LI speaks often abt the drive by honking. where, you'll be walking, and they're drive--or more often, speed--by, honking and perhaps yelling various things out the window you can't often understand. jen always asks, "but what if i wanted to get in your car? you just drove away so fast..." with sarcasm there.
i dont' understand why men think this is okay. my boss says, "enjoy is while you can. once you turn 30 no one looks at you." great, something nice to look forward to, turning fat and ugly and wrinkled at 30--but seriously, i am not abt to "enjoy it." a friend of a friend says, "sometimes i whistle if she's really pretty. but i know it makes girls feel uncomfortable. but if she's really pretty, it's flattering." um, no, it makes me feel vulnerable. if i really catch your eye, stop your car, walk down the block, and strike up a conversation with me in a nonthreatening way. OR better yet, why don't you get together with girls that you are friends with or that you know and you date them because of the inside?
26 October 2004
we need freedom in this nature. fuck my broken heart. yes joyce epiphanies happen in real life, i just had one which is why i'm writing this instead of working on my thesis that feels like it will last the rest of my life. "Show me what democracy looks like!" "This is what democracy sounds like." kissing anarchists, twisting tongues, we show them our underwear. the cheerleaders in the background ignoring everything but their demands. "kerry or bust" reads the sharpee across her breasts. "we will not give up." i have given up, in terms of some things. but NO, never this, i will fight for FREEDOM! "Show me what democracy looks like!" "This is what democracy FEELS like!" i feel it, do you feel me? i feel it, defiance, cherie. feel it. give up what is holding you back, say fuck it. a thesis? i can handle it! if only, peace! if only something beyond what i have known. to lose what you have loved. "it isn't enough to talk about peace, one must believe in in. it isn't enough to believe in it, one must work at it." (eleanor roosevelt) pick up the hammer and the sword, pick up your love, pick up your heart, wear pants, men don't deserve, a selection, ban hate, ban "family values" and accept love and freedom and acceptance. annie on my mind should be read by all, luna in my lap. need to escape the doldrum. "we will not back down. we will not compromise." scream it louder. "i see all the world's heros." there is too much pain to be bombing countries that do not have weapons of mass destruction. shout it out sister. let your pain go. the tears will go away when you put your hands in the dirt, fuck up that perfect french manicure and begin digging. dig up turnips for the hungry, hold up plywood and get a splinter so someone can have a roof over their head.
do it for someone else.
by katha pollitt
thanks for subtalk for showing this
At the foot of a rock, bamboo and orchids
small furled flowers that had themselves aloof
from the mist that is everywhere.
you have left newspapers, indolent
quarrels over sunday morning coffee
to come to the museum with your lover
and admire these swirls
swept onto the paper by an old monk
in less than ten minutes six hundred years ago
depicting the orchid,
which signifies the virtues of the noble man:
retinence, calm, clarity of mind.
25 October 2004
and suddenly you realize that your job is not your job but a CAREER and your CAT is your FAMILY and the savings in the bank are outnumbered by an extraordinary amount of loans from an MFA that you can't DO anything with and you don't like what it is you do between 9 and 5 or it's okay really, compared to with what others do, but really, IS THIS IT?? and you have yet another migraine and you hate school and there's dishes in the sink and you broke another glass and your cat is hungry and you just want to cry or sleep, really sleep b/c you have yet another migraine and you are afraid you are going to eventually fulfill the librarian stereotype: bun, conservative clothes, old maid, quiet, lives alone, lots of cats. my hair is in a bun now, i'm wearing old cords and a tank top, my one cat is munching, i live alone, i date a boy who insists upon always living in another state (you have a boyfriend?) and i'm like, really, i am a librarian, i know it's not hard to tell.
got this feeling when i heard your name the other day
couldnt say it couldnt make it go away
it's hard place cant be friends we cant be enemies
it's just too much feel the weight crushing down on my face
the hardest part is things already said
getting better worse i cannot tell
why do good things never wanna stay
some things you lose some things you give away
broken pieces try to make it good again
is it worth you will it make me sick today
it's a dumb song but i'll write it anyway
it's an old mistake but we always make it why do we
this time it'll be alright
this time it'll be okay
by le tigre
pipe down baby why so fake loud?
you've lied now ten thousand times
it's show business anyhow
why don't you put that tongue back in your mouth?
you make me sick sick ...
where'd you get all the attention?
your dad's money's too base to mention
his coattails are looking worn
you've had a nice ride that's for sure
better thank yr brain-dead clientele
for all the money taht you'll spend in hell
you make me sick, you make me
you make me so, you make me so sick, sick sick...
wanna percent of every nation
you're the type to rise to that occasion
stole the race no surprise there
the elevator always beats the stairs
you make me sick, so sick, you make me sick
on a golf cart
wearing some uniform
bombing in the nighttime
lying on tv
you make me sick sick sick sick sick sick
i'm sure you can guess what it's about! but you really have to hear the song, go buy the cd now!
she saved me a seat even though she didn't know who i was. shoving over down the bench, i smiled and thanked her. perhaps she could tell i was tired or that my feet hurt. we smiled.
over the crackly intercom, the conductor made an announcements to make sure we had all our personal belongings close to us, and that we should report if we see any suspicious packages to mta employees or the police. she laughed.
"that's the stupidest announcement ever," she told me, laughing harder. it didn't matter that we were strangers, twenty or more years between us, different skin colors, different backgrounds. i laughed with her. the village voice nominated these announcements and signs for the biggest waste of mta funds.
"you know, if they really want to see unattended stuff…come to the streets of brooklyn. in my neighborhood, there's garbage on the street, unattended bags, bags ripped open, crap everywhere. come to my brooklyn!"
she laughed at what i said, and told me, "and my brooklyn too! it's not just manhattan! what about our dirty streets, that's suspicious! our health is in danger!"
we laughed and then smiled. then we sat--her staring at the people, me reading a novel. and then when i got off, i knew i had another friend in another part of new york.
24 October 2004
YOU CAN DO IT!
me, i'm running the nyc marathon--that's also known as THE marathon. (thee, not thuh.) it is the marathon that everyone wants to do--why i wanted it to be my first. aches and pains and yeah i am so not ready for this but i am psyched!!!
"I'm not a girl, I'm a guy you know? But at the same time, I tell ya how you can solve this abortion issue right now. Ready? Those unwanted babies that single moms leave in alleys and in dumpsters? Leave about 12 of those on the steps of The Supreme Court. This is over. Like that. 'You guys said we had to have them? Then you guys...FUCKING RAISE 'EM. Raise 'em then, you fucking fucking raise 'em. YOU raise 'em. You said I had to have it? Then it's yours. Fuck. It's yours..Take it'" - Bill Hicks
23 October 2004
Giggles. Louder laughter. The boys teasing, and shrieking from the seats across. It made me miss being sixteen. I knew that they were going to Brooklyn Tech.
At Fulton, I rose, as did they. At the door, the girls stood in the front, boys behind them. The beautiful one tugged her hair impatiently as she waited for the doors to open. Olive skin, long, dark, wavy hair, bright clear eyes. Lip gloss hovered outside the edges of her lips.
The second one I did not pay attention to. It was the third that caught me.
The third girl wore a black headscarf, in accordance with her religion. A delicate scarf, with scalloped edges. While her hair was hidden, it was obvious that the true beauty was in her face. Her dark eyes were framed with mascara and thick amounts of shadow and liner. Her bright fuchsia lips were bold, as her smile was shy. While she was wearing more makeup than anyone else on this train, on her, it did not make her look bad or slutty or cheap.
On my commute today, they were not there. I was running late and the train was oddly quiet.
I wondered who she was, the truly beautiful one. I wonder if her parents forced her to wear the scarf, or if she chose, or felt it was right. Did her parents know about this makeup, this generous and careful colors across her face? The work looked too intricate to have been done on the train. Did she, as I, sneak to a friend's house before school with absent or sleeping parents, and apply gobs of color to faces before school? Did she crouch behind a bush down the block from the train? Did she sit on the benches in the station, waiting for her friends, applying gentle strokes with small, soft brushes? Who was she anyway?
I remember right before the doors opened yesterday, how suddenly she had laughed. Nobody had said anything, but she did it anyway. The girls began laughing. "What? What's funny," one of the boys who I didn't look at asked.
I held back my laugh, and watched the girls exit the train and then through the turnstiles, and then we had parted our ways up different stairways, and different lives completely.
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Cafe/7423/youarehere.html chris dodge of street librarian has this website of his travels. beautiful, especially while listening to:
http://www.kcrw.com/online/ KCRW is an awesome internet radio station (and on line, if you live in CA) featuring innovative and eclectic music. Awesome.
http://www.ingnycmarathon.org/generalinfo/spectatorguide.html# OMIGOD! i'm running the marathon on nov 7th, send me good energy and cheer me on. i'm the one in pink.
http://www.lisnews.com/ News for nerdy librarians like me.
http://www.siecus.org/shop.html If you want to shop amazon you can support siecus (sexually information and education council of the united states)--every purchase you make, amazon donates a portion to siecus. rad.
http://www.librarianactivist.org/index.html I'm a nerdy librarian.
Listen to the Naropa audio archives
http://www.lipsticklibrarian.com/ i love the lipstick librarian! i have one of her t-shirts!
http://www.lipsticklibrarian.com/tips.html and that has some funny library-glamour!
http://www.lipsticklibrarian.com/quiz.html and that's best of all--the quiz to see if you really a lipstick librarian!
http://www.libr.org/PL/contentsFT.html many full text articles in the progressive librarian yay!
http://www.bobdylan.com/songs/ lyrics and other rad things to bob dylan songs and abt robert zimmerman & listen to samples of songs b/c everyone forgets what the title of this or that song is…
what's yr favorite bob dylan song? mine is "sad eyed lady of the lowlands." second place--"tangled up in blue."
as krs one calls himself, Knowledge Reigns Supreme Over Nearly Everybody being a (junior librarian) has offered me the entire world. before i entered library school, and started my library job (even if it is corporate, we all come from the library mindset), i would wonder things. "hmmm i wonder if Fahrenheit 9/11 is true." "wow, i wonder what jennifer belle's background is." "does anybody know any good recipes for chai?" now that i research regularly for work i have become more experienced, and more aware of my ability to leave no question unanswered. at work, i find myself googling veggie burger recipes, searching for information on how much the ceo of amex makes, checking out the background of various companies to see if i should support them, reading intelligent antibush news, etc. becoming a librarian has been an empowering experience--anybody who tells you knowledge is not power is different--KNOWLEDGE IS POWER! with knowledge you can do anything--go to school, find out what your senator did on this or that bill, do research for your boyfriend, grandmother, friend. i have researched for radical cheerleading, radical librarians, and radical cherie!
EMPOWER YOURSELF! READ & RESEARCH! KNOWLEDGE IS POWER!
20 October 2004
i see three girls on the rush hour morning G train. they are going to brooklyn tech, i'm sure of it. three boys sit directly across from them, and they loudly talk, distracting me from my reading. i watch them. remember a shadow of myself, who i used to be. "no, you!" that's a sentence. they're loud. teens. laughter. my book does not entertain.
we get off at fulton, all of us. this is where brooklyn tech is, somewhere around here, the exact location i'm not sure of. and this is when i get to look at them.
one, long, dark waving hair, gorgeous olive-colored skin. she's the beauty of the group, the boys who i don't look at would probably say. the second one i don't look at. but it's the third girl i stare at.
she is wearing a head scarf, but i doubt it's her hair that would attract men. this girl is beautiful, hidden away in an untucked corner. a full face of makeup, that's what stops me. more makeup than anyone else on the train, but it does not look trashy. almost out of place with the headscarf, but perfect for the face. i wonder if she did the eyeliner before she got on the train, or if her parents knew about it. the eyeliner was thick, framed by eyeshadow and her beautiful eyes. deep lipstick.
will i see her today? does she take off her scarf when the boys kiss her? i don't know enough about scarves but sometimes i really wish i could just go back in time, make friends with the world and kiss everyone else in the process.
19 October 2004
"it's such a sad state of affairs."
"i'm in a rogue state."
songs, then poems. love then life. help me sort it out, kay? what to do when love runs away and you realize a city is holding you back--you need to stay, help them change. wilderness therapy? you need a motherf-in hug! a kiss for you, maam. ma'am if yr 50 or above. i'm not ma'am. sexy ms. yeah!
16 October 2004
welcome to training for the marathon
on nov 7th along with tons of other crazy people i'm going to run in the nyc marathon. i'm totally not ready for it--i have not been doing the distance i should, my distance runs are not as frequent as they should be. anyway watch yr tv, i'm psyched, nervous and i know that i'm absolutely insane!
if you want to come, bring orange slices and hand them out to me and other runners and hand out water. if you volunteer by handing out water you get tons of free stuff. it's so awesome, even if you dont run. and be careful where you're going on that day or yr liable to be stuck on the wrong side of the street for hours.
www.nyrrc.org has tons of info on the marathon. click on the part abt the ing nyc marathon
15 October 2004
so i haven't written in a while. what can you do to cure a broken heart? here are some things that have been helping me since my boyfriend decided that a job as a fisheries observer in massachussets was more important to him than anything.
1. chocolate. you cannot lift out of a depression without chocolate. this is a fact.
2. good music. i have been listening to a lot of indian music, esp. ones that are good for yoga. it's soothing and calming and energizing at the same time. also, a cd ed gave me eons ago with way too much happy hardcore for anyone else is good. please note: if you are crying, happy hardcore makes you feel worse than before b/c all of the songs are about love. but it's a good cd anyway.
3. good food. i have trouble eating when i'm upset and i estimate i've lost 5 pounds at least since trevor and i have been having problems. some people eat a lot. i feel nauseas or queasy or just don't have an appetite. and hello, i'm training for the marathon and i am also the queen of food. i have heard, "i've never seen a girl eat as much as you." not anymore.
4. also, if i have the stomach and time, i cook. lentil soup, broccoli-gorgonzola risotto, mmmm!
5. a quiet space of your own that is nice. i love my apartment, it's so cute and perfect for me. it would be even better if trev lived there, but i'm not going to dwell on it. drink tea, write, work on my thesis, practice yoga, chill, play with luna.
6. play with my kitty. she knows i'm sad and she is super affectionate. or maybe she just wants to eat.
7. when it gets hard, call venessa, my mom, sister, other friends. i am so lucky to have so many rad people in my life.
8. write down what i feel.
9. read. no romance novels, none at all. humor is good. i like buddhist books abt sadness to help me through my times. pema chodron is really helping me out right now, thanks pema.
10. do me things, like dance like crazy or mop my apt while singing along with talib kweli, or yoga at 1am.
if you ever need a friend in a hard time, i'm here for you. thanks for listening.
02 October 2004
Here's some wisdom I picked from it:
"To tell the truth is a revolutionary."
"what is the afternoon for"
by tod hawks (c) 1972
what is the afternoon for
but to listen to the sonata
of footprints peering at
pictures hanging on plaster walls
perhaps a little child searching
for peanuts and parables
a saraband of gentle sounds
whisper the turning pages
i utter causes socialistic
evoking from the dark
'do you want to ruin this country'
and i pause to swivel in my chair
and think of little people
who lie dying
in the corner of streets
unpaved with human kindness
"those who profess to favor freedom yet deprecate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground; they want rain without thunder and lightning; they want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters."
Homage to RB
Elinor Martin (c) 1972
I look like I am filing catalog cards
But actually I am filing shadows of birds
Someday they will open the trays
And there will be only feathers.