This Is My World and I Live Here

This Is My World and I Live Here

No relation to the post… just had that quote in my head since I went to sleep last night.

Here I am again, awake at what used to be known to me as an ungodly hour, but it’s been pretty easy to convince myself that I need to be up at this time. 6:45 rolls around and unfortunately inspired by the annoyance of hearing that my boss was looking for me, I go ahead and pull myself out of bed and I hardly feel as sleepy as I used to when I’d get up at 8:00. Early to bed, early to rise. I guess it’s true. I feel much more in control of the things that I’m doing now. I get an earlier jump on things and I feel less inclined to stay at work till 11 PM (which is always good). Yet and still, I will have to find another way because being motivated by fear and annoyance is NO way to live.

I’ve been in a singular zone with the wedding planning lately. I dedicate all my energies when there is nothing else to do to researching items and calling folks and asking questions. It’s pretty effin cool. I sent out my invitations to my Bridesmaids to be and got a few responses back. Of course from my sweet and dear Max, Vernie and Jenny. Even Teresa called me… I was really shocked and pleased at how excited she was and ready to serve. My Vic told me “she would respond in kind because she was raised with etiquette.” I can’t WAIT to see what that means because I guess the etiquette that I learned doesn’t encompass all of that. I figured — i didn’t put any contact information in the card and hoped that the folks I chose would at the VERY LEAST know how to contact me. So we’ll see for the ones that have yet to respond. Me and my incredibly shrinking Bridal Party.

I certainly feel more empowered though. Getting up early. Taking time to plan… instead of haphazardly roaming through life and feeling at the mercy of others who do exactly that. Kind of drift through the wind and land where it dictates. So I guess I’m in my 6 month stretch then (I usually have 6 months of unusual focus and then 6 months of pissing it all away). But I hope to beg and plead with the Gods to advance me next years 6 months of focus so that I can get this wedding planned and executed. That would be PHENOM.

Off to work.

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Merry Happy ChrismaHannaKwanzakIce

Merry Happy ChrismaHanuKwanzakIce

I think that covers all the bases : Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice. Even though I’ve been strictly saying Merry Christmas to everyone, even the diplomatic “Holiday” wishers and the X-mas-ers. I know what I’m celebrating. Even thought it’s only symbolic cause He really wasn’t born this time of year by any stretch — the welcoming of Jesus into our lives and most of his teachings (lets be honest — half of those teachings didn’t make it into the final print, but … that’s another story). But I like tapping into the small child in my mind who remembers winters and christmas trees and not being able to WAIT for the church at school to put up the Nativity and then “miraculously” on Christmas Day the baby Jesus’ statue was placed in the manger; the long trek to Midnight mass where I’d have to go early because I was in the choir / bell chorus / young christan minister groupings; the wonder at the candle lighting ceremony and the amazing bells ringing at midnight with all the lights turned on simultaneously signifying the entry of Jesus in to our lives and our minds; the not being able to wait till it was even a HINT of morning to unwrap gifts in the midsts of my family and spend the whole day with them and have fun and not be bothered by it; the cremas that mom and dad would let us have just a taste of; the awesome cooking by mom and grandma and the pastries by Tante Sisi; the spending all day breaking in new toys (and for me… explaining to my old dollies and trinkets that they were JUST as special)… and the finally passing out in bed exhausted and happy and feeling wealthy with love. I hold on to those memories tight; trying hard to remember every little piece so that somehow, I can give half of that to my kids one day.

This year makes the 3rd year that we’ve not hung anything up (not even lights in the window) — but only the first of me not making a big deal about the gifts. Usually, I go out on Christmas Eve and soak up all the hustle and bustle of Christmas that I can. Frantic people mulling about and long lines at the stores and gift wrap and mini christmas trees and just EXCITEMENT. I pick up a few little necessities for the ones I love and I come home and spend the Eve gift wrapping everything. When there was a tree, I’d sneak to put my stuff under the tree during midnight and try not to wake Grandma (who would spend the night with us) and in later years, Domi, who would stay over. And in the morning I was the one waking everyone up… basically – WAKE UP AND SEE WHAT I GOT YOU!!! Cause I couldn’t WAIT to see the looks on their faces when they saw that I got them EXACTLY what they wanted. But after a year or two went by… and the looks on the faces were really the same — indifference… it started not to matter. And maybe it made no sense for me to be all Tiny Tim when everyone around me was Scrooge.

This year was about the same. Maybe the lowest I’ve been. I’ve hung on the word of every family member and loved one, waiting to decipher in their conversation what their desires were. What they want what they need… and I went out and got it for them. But none were recieved with any fanfare… no lighting up of eyes… no uncontrollable smile. Just a “aww… thanks Vic…” and keeping it moving. It’s really hard to be a cheerleader when everyone else seems to have given up on the team. I don’t even really need to get gifts myself… I got a couple of brand name trinkets from folks that don’t really know me — which is kind of a double edged sword… they don’t know me, but they spent what I’m told is massive amounts of money on me for stuff that I would probably never use. I got myself one thing I really wanted a few months ago (my treo) and I have my very own TechnoFairy with the Nano and the new ‘puter *winks* . Couple of impromptu jobs covered the payment on the hall for next month. I really had nothing more to ask for. Except for the folks around me to be in the spirit.

Now more than ever I hold on to what excitement I can bring my kids one day. And promise to myself that no matter how frail or tired I may be, to ALWAYS celebrate it with them, if that’s what they want. I can’t wait to watch The Sound of Music with them… and to play our really antiquated Readers Digest “A Christmas Celebration” compilation RECORDS (right… not even tapes) and lift the smallest one so he/ she can put the star on top of the tree. Then clean the house on christmas eve and tuck them in tight and tell them Santa is coming (HE DOES EXIST, MAX *lol*) . Then as soon as they’re sleeping, me and the Mr. get to making like Santa and putting the gifts out under the tree. Finally, laying down with Santa to getting some sleep and waiting for the first of the kids to come bouncing into the room and squealing and carrying on. I believe and hope that I can provide all of that to them. Even if I’m not rich. Christmas doesn’t only have to be feted when there are kids around. We all have kids in us that NEED to feel that excitement every now and again. Even at 31. Next year… it’s all out.

Merry Christmas

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Human Compassion

Human Compassion
Well, the transit strike is over. And it’s just in time for my 4 day weekend. Joy. *sigh* I guess I now have to hustle and get my holiday shopping in and make sure it gets done. I’ve been given a list of things to make sure I acquire for Christmas (this from the same folks that do ALL THEY CAN to dampen MY christmas spirit — but I guess because once upon a time they wiped my butt and changed my diapers and stayed up late nights caring for me when I was sick… I owe them something. Some … eternally indebted thing…)

But of course before the end of the strike I got another blow to the temple. Here is the conversation I had with a higher up when I got in to the office at roughtly 11:30 but having been lucky enough to be a part of a car pool.

Her: are you just getting here?
Me: Yeah, today’s commute was so much better than yesterday’s. *smiling*
Her: but it’s still late…
Me: …………..
Me: *thinking i’m taking crazy pills* ……… there’s…. a …. TRANSIT STRIKE…..
Her: well, can’t you find a car pool that leaves earlier?
Me: ………. *thinking about how i didn’t have to walk 67 blocks today and the carpool was a blessing any ole way*…. No one leaves from my area… It was a fluke that I got into this one AT ALL
Her: well, you need to keep me abreast of your travels if you’re going to be this late.

THERE IS A FUCKING TRANSIT STRIKE …. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

At that point there was absolutely NOTHING more I could say. She, of course, lives IN the city and can walk from her house. But everyone’s commute is that easy, right? I started to think that maybe I was the only one experiencing the the transit strike then… Oh… wait… no. There were only 600 people online with me that day. So it’s probably for just the 601 of us. And I really had NO excuse at all. When I relayed this story to my co workers the question was asked, “C’mon… where is the basic human compassion??” I guess I was never expecting any. I’m thinking… I haven’t been from anyone really. Why bother. This world is so bottom line oriented. The ends justify the means. So… it doesn’t matter how it happens… as long as it gets done the way it was supposed to be.

*catching my last carpool during this craziness… i’ll be back*

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Suck It Up

Suck It Up

It was a phrase that I HATED when I was on line. (no… not surfing the internet. when i pledged.) My big sisters, when I was faced with an unbearable or daunting task that under other circumstances I would walk away from or choose not to experience, they would grab me firmly by… something… shoulders, arm, whatever they could get a hold of… look me right in the eye and say, “SUCK IT UP, NUMBER 4!!” And there was nothing I could do. I had to ball up all the emotion I was feeling, stick it in the pit of my stomach and deal with the task at hand. One of our “tools” was to bring our tasks to a successful completion. So I couldn’t even turn an eye to what I had pushed aside till what it was I had to go through was done. Many days I thank God for what I learned in that process. It gave me a virtually impervious will. Today was one of those days.

After many days of floundering about “WE’LL STRIKE!!” “NO, NOT YET!!” “OKAY… JUST A FEW BUS LINES TODAY…” the TWU finally shut down MTA service on the subways and buslines. This is the equivalent of telling about 7 million New Yorkers … “look we want you to eat this sandwich and shit it out… but you can’t use your esophagus, stomach or small intestines… okay… GO!” I got the news via txt message at 5:30 AM from my co-worker. Got up about 6… got cleaned and dressed and knew the day that was ahead of me.
1) A 30 block walk from my home to the Woodside Station of the Long Island Railroad
2) A possible wait to buy tickets
3) A 10 minute train ride into Penn station
4) A 30 block walk from Penn station to my job.

I thought about it… I could really just… not go in. And considering all the stuff going on in here, it wasn’t an option. In my head I heard it. Suck it up, Number 4. I put on a few layers of clothing and hot footed it out of the house. The first 15 blocks were fire on my thighs, but the cold weather helped to stave off any real burn. Then I eased into the next 15 blocks. Got to the LIRR. Spied a line that wrapped around 4 sides of a block not once… but twice. I was told this was the line to purchase tickets and you HAD to have a ticket to get on the PLATFORM (never mind the train) and that they were NOT selling them on the train. I got on the line and shuffled around the block twice… for 2 hours.

Now… I’ve mentioned in the past that I like the cold weather. I have conditions to this now: 1) I have to be warmly clad; 2) I MUST be mobile. NO standing still 3) I can’t be in line with a bunch of assholes. I only fulfilled one of these requirements this morning. I dressed warmily… but it would mean nothing soon… because all the standing still would make my wardrobe give in to the harsh weather… which it did after hour 1. I never apprecieated the warming effects of the sun as much as I did today… becuase it was NOT made in the shade. Then I had someone behind me that must watched the channel that told him in order to be considered on line, you must be in the cervix (or scrotum) of the person ahead of you… or you will forfeit your place in line. And thusly… everytime I moved… there he was. I elbowed him a few times, but I think he didn’t get the hint. I even elbowed his girlfriend a few times thinking she could pass the message to him for me. No luck. So with cervix-boy and a serious frostbite developping in all my toes I finally made it to the booth… where an LIRR guy came over and said “I need 30 people to come upstairs and get tickets)… so I went… wait… I RAN and realized that after being in the bitter cold for 2 hours, my muscles were FROZEN. Suck it up…

I got to the top of the stairs and moved to the line for the machines (others opted for the line with a human dispensing the tickets). While waiting on the line for all of 5 minutes, I hear one of the cops in the corner say “Train to Penn Station on track three pulling in … you can buy your tickets on the train…” WHAT? No time… I ran down the stairs and got in the least crowded car I could find. The warmth was so welcome to me. I stood there just letting it be warm around me for a few minutes before I even acknowledged my surroundings. I mean… my teeth were chattering, folks.

(more later) ( i know i’ve said it before… i do mean it…)

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Okay… here I am… back (like I promised)
Okay… so teeth chattering. I finally warm up enough to take inventory of the space around me… to find that … I wasn’t on a PACKED train car. Pretty much everyone had a seat. One asshole (a brother, of course) had to be playing his cellphone game with the sound turned up extra high so that EEEEEVERYONE could hear. I think I still hear the stupid jingle in my head. I looked at the silver holders on the top of every chair where the conductor usually sticks a chit that is indicative of where the person in that seat is going. No chits. I asked someone seated. “How long have you been on this train?” She responded, “Since Long Beach.” “Has the conductor come through at all?” “No,” she responded, “they punched our tickets before we got on the train.” Mooooooother fuuuuckers. So I never needed to get a ticket at all… I didn’t even have to wait 2 hours. The train zipped through the underpasses and tunnels and in 10 minutes I was pouring out of Penn Station with my fellow New Yorkers. I got up to 33rd and 8th, got a good sense of my bearings and walked to (effectively) 3rd street. Calling my co-worker along the way, and informed me that my boss was looking for me…. “REALLY???” I said in disbelief. Cause I couldn’t imagine that anyone’s boss was seeking them out at any decent hour in this day and age. Plus I left (or thought I did — I dialed the wrong extension) her a message letting her know that I was amidst the craziness and didn’t really know when it would end.

Along the quiet walk downtown, I realized I hadn’t eaten since yesterday and my body was good and done with whatever that was… my stomach started to rumble. I know they just opened the Dunkin Donuts downstairs and I could get a hot croissant or bagel and some warm coffee to heat me up when i got in. Finally got to the DD and walked in to a sign on the cash register that read:

“Due to the strike, we were unable to get our donut / baked goods delivery. We apologize for the inconvenience, but we are serving coffee and beverages. Thank you for bering with us during this time.”

FUCK.

The rest of the day was pretty alright. Quiet. Productive. I just want the strike to be over. I’m rooting for the Transit Workers (not necessarily the UNION, but the workers) and their plight over big business and their ability to cook books and hoard money. And I’ll suck it up for now…
but damnit all to hell… I miss taking a train to where I need to be. *sigh*

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BLOG, DAMNIT!

BLOG, DAMNIT

Sometimes, I’m convinced that I’ll never get to blog again.. And I know now more than ever the reason that I started to — these little mini blogs have been rolling around in my head taking up a very certain space that could be being used for other things. So the following is what I can remember of the goings on of the last 10 days.

WORK

Sucks. I’m on a mental probation of sorts and the things that are being said and done to me are the types of things said and done in an attempt to push me out. Which I guess I can understand or not or whatever… I guess I just don’t care anymore. But I’m still there everyday trying my best not to ger pushed out. So maybe I do care? Really moreso about being able to pay these bills.

BLOGGERS

I went to what I affectionately refer to as the Bloggers’ Convention 2 fridays ago and had dinner with Max, Clink, High Class Jackass, and WildKat along with a host of my brother’s friends. I felt very un-fly at the event feeling overworked and under appreciated and having been woken up at 7:30 am by my boss that morning So it isn’t exactly how i’d describe a great start. Plus when I got there, I couldn’t stay long and my lack of long range hearing made it virtually impossible to be in all the convos… So Robin (WildKat) was nice enuff to a) keep me company, b) pay for dinner and c) keep me sane by accompanying me to work day part deux at the coat drive. Having her and my baby there made it much easier to get through the night which lasted till midnight (read: forever). I was happy though that I was able to meet folks face to face. I have to admit: the voice, tonality and attitude in their written word is subtly and drastically different from what I’d imagined. And it’s funny that no matter what my imagination can come up with… God’s is always more brilliant and exciting. I was glad to make new friends that night. They are WAY cool

THE ‘RENTS

It’s been mentioned to me that I no longer discuss situations at home. This is mostly due to the amount of hopelessness I am overwhelmed by when I do discuss it. In short, daddy’s in chemo and has had 4 out of six recommended dosages. It is sapping his strength to the point where this man who used to go to bed at around 1 or 2 in the morning has been going to bed at 9 PM out of sheer exhaustion. He’s been prone to fits of weakness where he loses his balance and falls (luckily none of them have been bad or injurious) or to fits of unconsciousness where he passes out on the toilet or in his lounge chair. To say that we watch him more carefully is an understatement. And it’s me watching because mom really can’t. I have to ration out between the two of them who will get the cane and who will get the walker atany given time. Mom had a fit of laughter the first time it happened… But I watched carefully because I thought that she may cry. But thank God: they are still alive and still mobile and coherent.

THE LOVE

The vow is going strong and we’ve hit a bump or two here and there but the love is everpresent and our lines of comm open up more and more every day. He’s definitely working on himself and I’m loving the progress we’re making: together and as individuals.

More progress to come about the Wedding and the House…. I just didn’t want folks to think I’m dead…

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