“I’m just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round”…or Boredom is a b…h.

This week…
I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to experience each day as most were not.

This week…
Has not been the greatest, in terms of my living through each day.

This week…
Was filled with drama, angst and all bad things I’d like to drink away which one knows doesn’t work.  Once the drunken haze dissapates, reality kicks in big time and not always on the butt.

This week…
Should I break it down? I guess.

Work
At times it can be a mindless job with no mental or creative stimulation. At times the work reminds me of an assembly line production with an oversize stamp freshly dipped in a way too small ink pad primed to stamp ‘accept’ or ‘reject’ on a pale beige Staples office envelope. (ok bit of exaggeration on the assembly line thingy)
Work
Is where I go to make the Benjamins.
Working 35 hours at a place filled with drama, angst and all bad things or how about having my mind on autopilot reciting Nie mój cyrk, nie moje małpy. As paperwork piles up only to realize on the 3rd round of chanting— I AM the monkeys!

Work
It can be a job where your strengths and creativity are appreciated and used to the best of your potential. It can also be a job where your strengths and creativity are stifled, squashed and thrown out the back door.-oh well.

Work
If you don’t own your own business, you are subject to the rules of others, sought of living the life of a peasant on a lord’s land (the lord being your boss and the land, well that depends where you work).

Work 
Is all the wonderful stuff that makes most of those who work only working for a the Benjamins at the end of the day.

*John Lennon 

 

Not sure where this came from but worth the read:
A father before he died said to his son: “This is a watch your grandfather gave me, and it is more than 100 years old. But before I give it to you, go to the watch shop on the first street, and tell him I want to sell it, and see how much he offers you”.  He went, and then came back to his father, and said, “the watchmaker offered 5 dollars because it’s old”. He said to his son: “go to the coffee shop”. He went and then came back and said: “He offered $5 father”.  “Go to the museum and show the watch”. He went then came back and said to his father “They offered me a million dollars for this piece”. The father said: “I wanted to let you know that the right place values you in the right way. Don’t find yourself in the wrong place and get angry if you are not valued. 

Those that know your value are those who appreciate you, don’t stay in a place where nobody sees your value”.

 

 


—images from the WWW

 

People hurt…

People hurt and continue to hurt with their words and actions.

I hurt and continue to hurt people with my words and actions. 

Can’t speak for others but my hurt is usually a reaction of feeling powerless to events dealing with cultural ignorance or bullying-you know, those who feel privileged using rude actions and words because of belonging to the majority rule.   

I’d like to think I hurt people less than they hurt me because when people hurt me it really hurts because I allowed them access to my vulnerabilities and thoughts. Of course, I should know better at selecting whom to share with and whom not to. Because all it usually takes is one ignorant comment to set me off.

Well…

Sometimes, that’s what happens.

(Not as severe and there may be a be a tad of exaggeration with the gif)

I once believed in transparency for it eliminates lying. Lying has a way of accumulating more lies which in time is impossible to keep track of what was said in the first place. Transparency is well…transparency,  except when it’s used against you to file a formal complaint based on a one time reaction during a heated diversity discussion in which you mention something that another found offensive and antisemitic. 

Does that person even know what happened in Rwanda when one race was exterminated without the gas chambers while the world turned its backs on the killings because well…black lives truly don’t matter except amongst our own which is adapting the black lives don’t matter and killing their own because society says its ok to do so. 

My ongoing battle with race and trying to find my place in its many levels of acceptance, bigotry, entitlement and so on, is so done. I’m okay with who and what I am, as, I am my father and mother’s daughter who fought an incredible economic and social battle to make sure, me…yes me would be taken care of-emotionally, identity and financially wise.

GOD bless my parents who created, nurtured (though at the time I didn’t think so) and prepared me for life in a country that disrespects POC’s and is intent on making our lives a miserable road to hoe.

My hoe is sharpened and hangng in my left hand. As I say to those who try to stomp me down, “Don’t Fuck With Me!”

Driving That Train…or Vacation!

Driving that train…

No. Not the Casey Jones’ song as I wasn’t driving any train and LORD truly knows I don’t do cocaine!!

But…

I was on a train, an Amtrak train.

Rolling, rolling, rolling up to Massachusetts to Arlington.

To be exact en route to visit my niece, my adopted niece who I consider family as my mom considered her to be.

It’s all good…

It has been a while and let’s be transparent and say years since I had a vacation. My vacay buddy, mom (who will forever be 91 years) could no longer travel and I decided to stay close to home near her. Mind you, she didn’t agree with my decision but felt comforted knowing I was just upstairs.61060119_10219548377085814_932831570585190400_n

But onto traveling for the first time in so long.

As I mentioned before, I was on an Amtrak train, not driving but here’s a look at what a driver might have seen:

giphy

For the longest time I planned to visit my niece and mom’s upcoming birthday, oh better yet, first birthday without her here on earth, seemed appropriate enough, to get on that train.

And I did…

Rolling, rolling, rolling.

Amtrak rocked and cradled my bod as green trees and concrete buildings passed by the window. 200.gif

Leaving NYC…

so exciting, when the mind is in the present.

Returning NYC…

not exciting when the mind is in the present.

Ease of transportation had avoided my niece for a while, regulating her to trains and buses. Luckily, she inherited her mom’s used Toyota Yaris!

So, she drove…

and refused to let me drive through turn arounds, round abouts’ or whatever you wanna call them.

All good because…

on Mom’s birthday we drove.

We drove to Gloucester and walked along the cold sandy grey beach with dark clouds floating over our heads. The cold sand massaged my feet and grounded my soul.IMG_0814.jpg

So needed…

with grieving and missing you.IMG_0822.JPG

 

 

 

 

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The Fisherman’s Memorial, the picture I took of the names of the fisherman lost at sea and portrayed in the movie; ‘The Perfect Storm’ stirred in mi alma.
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The families of those men and myself share the final ending of knowing a loved one will not be returning.

At Lexington, I learned more about the Revolutionary War than I cared to absorb but…IMG_0840.jpg

I was grateful to have the history told to us by a volunteer dressed in clothing of the time. IMG_0833.jpg

Harvard, yes, we went there.

Although the trip wasn’t to visit the photography archives of the United Fruit Company, a research project I was so into while aiming for my Masters, being on campus was a reminder of what is still attainable, still researchable.

We stopped at a GAP where I bought ‘boyfriend Chino pants’ and argued with my niece because…well that’s what we do and we do it well.

Vegan Galaxy?!!!!

Best Vegan joint I’ve eaten at. The place makes their own vegan burger which just may surpass Impossible Burger.

Along our driving we ventured to the quarry at Halibut Point. At that point I was tired and wanted to get the cake mom always had at our birthdays.IMG_0825.jpg

IMG_0829.jpgIMG_0827.jpgIMG_0831.jpgIMG_0826.jpg

We drove to Woodman’s and ordered two slices of Strawberry Shortcake which was mom’s favourite cake to have on our birthdays.

Once we arrived at my niece’s apartment we broke out the cake and I must say it was the best Strawberry Shortcake I ever, ever, ever, ever…

had.

Thank you, mom for I feel you had a hand in this day, your birthday and making sure I enjoyed it to the fullest with my niece, who you accepted as family.

Happy Birthday Mom, my mom!

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling…no. Running, Wobbling, Running…

Marathon #2 sits on the horizon and, god willingGod Willing I’ll cross that line again.

Marathon #1 was an all-out disaster that almost didn’t happen due to my mom’s illness but did happen due to my mom’s illness and her unrelenting push for me to train.

I trained through, tears, stress, worry and crossed the line many times arguing with incompetent doctors who destroyed my mom’s will to live and her health

And,

I finally crossed THAT LINE at the end of the marathon which my mom did not live to see.

-Actually, she did see, for she was on the corner of Sackett Street and Fourth Avenue, just not in this realm and as I woggled towards that street, I stopped, crossed myself and bowed for the Queen.

So,

back to Marathon #2 in which training has not officially begun but I’ve started anyway because well, I have nothing better to do than pound my knees via my feet kissing asphalt, concrete and dirt trails.

Love the trails, love my feet, love my knees, hate the dirt.IMG_0758.jpg

And at least I’m not kissing someone’s ass

So,

I’ll tie up the laces tomorrow, that are tied already, just need to slip on the sneaker.

-(I’ll set the garmin, set the interval timer, wear the running glasses that get dark in the sun, put on the Panache Bra, set up the Spotify, put on the lip balm, make the Nunn for the water bottle, separate Tara-Habby from the treacherous cat posse  (worse than the Sharks but just like the Jets) out to dethrone the Queen ( not me this time)  and ultimately sit on the throne (corner of my bed).)

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The Green Throne

And hit the road…not like Jack in Ray’s song for

I’ll be coming back, god willing.

 

Tired, not sick and tired…just tired.

I am getting to the point where retirement is looking damn so good so good

But…

Don’t have that Big Fat Retirement pension coming my way,

(that’s what happens when you move from job to job)

as it’s always been hard to stay at one job for too long.

(you say that now, but that’s not what you thought while you were moving about)

I get bored, not because I’m boring but spending 35-40 hours a week with some co workers you’d never hang out with on your day off is boring.

(having your own business for 15 years can do that to you)

And there are those with positions of power who wave their condescending and micromanaging wands of glory directed towards Image result for people stifling your creativity

(I treated my assistants with respect and appreciation and was in awe I could hire them)

bursting a tiny bubble, well actually Big Bubbles of ideas and hopes and inspirations,

(creative people are a bit off their rockers and can get carried away with ideas…)

into shards of Papyrus paper needed for input into the databases of an excel spreadsheet that personifies an aged metal filing cabinet that

Image result for people stifling your creativity(pushing papers is basically water torture to those who have so much more to give)

is bent on being resistant to assault and fondling,

(as the creativity dies instead of glowing and rising through adversity)

I give up and give in. Nothing left to prove. The only proof needed to verify the my gifts earned through life is the proof HE and I alone share.

(Peace out to those who love being obstacles in another’s path. Your insecurities will eventually rot out your core.) Image result for people stifling your creativity

***images courtesy of the WWW, just because…

The Power of goodbye or …goodbye, pretty damn much the final curtain call

Grief is lingering and continues to show its fangs when least expected.

I wish I could just stay home from work for a month, get things in order and come to terms with dealing with the new normal grief has chosen to give to me as a present san bows and glitter.

A new normal I didn’t seek. 

But…

Work is work and dictates the attendance of 35 hours a week to maintain insurance benefits along with the coveted vacation accrued hours.

Well…

Grief

is here and not going anywhere too soon.

I think it’s going to stick around until the day I draw my last breath

Hopefully seeing the dead of family past at my bedside ready to welcome me into another realm will make that last breath worth its’ draw.

But…

Related imageIn the meantime, I’ll listen to music to numb the silence.

“Pain is a warning that something’s wrong

I pray to God that it won’t be long”

 -It will forever be long for pain has no expiration date, no renewal before expiration fees, no put it on a payment plan and go

Nothing…

“There’s nothing left to try

There’s no place left to hide” 

-What is there to try? I’ve cried and cried to block away the reality of goodbye and I’ve tried to hide behind substances legal or not to no avail

There’s nothing left to lose

There’s no more heart to bruise. 

– Heck I get to leave all that busy no nonsense stuff behind because what I’ve lost can never be replaced or substituted. Pi-Patel took my heart, Toby and Marge took mi alma.

Related image

There’s no greater power

Than the power of goodby

-The power of goodbye is accepting the finality of a goodbye. A goodbye so final it leaves a void of blackness after those words leave your lips

I loved so deeply three souls that made getting up each day worthwhile… so difficult to go to bed at night knowing you won’t be there in the morning

Image result for japanese artist with dark artwork

I love you Butterfly

I love you boys

https://youtu.be/NHydngA5C4E

***images borrowed from the web –I adore the artist Avogado6  who captures my raw emotions

Serenity prayer or…feel so different

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference

Every morning I wake up with a broken heart and every night as I lay my head down on my mom’s pillow I try to keep the broken pieces from traveling far.

You are gone and it’s not even a question of accepting that reality but trying to adjust to a new reality that no longer includes you, my best friend and my mother.mom 2

October 7th, should have been a normal Sunday with you getting ready for church, asking me if I’d go and gathering your dollars for the plate collection.

Instead…

on October 7th, I woke at 2:15am and did not hear your breath with the oxygen machine.

I got up…

turned on the light and saw the look of vacancy on your face even though your eyes were closed.

I knew…

you were gone.

I felt your forehead which was warm to touch and my hand traveled to your back which was cold. I reached for my stethoscope and placed it on the honey coloured skin on top of your heart.Mom 1

No sound, no breath, an empty shell void of the pulse of life it once contained.

At first, I was relieved.

The previous day, as I held your hand, I begged you to go, to let go of the body that so betrayed you. To let go of the organs slowly shutting down. To let go of the month of starvation your body endured. To let go of the dependency on the morphine I resented giving you for I knew each dose sent you further into oblivion and I so badly wanted to see you smile at me with eyes that saw me and not death.

It is almost six months since you’ve gone.

The morphine and the Percocet sit in my medicine cabinet.

Sundays are bad and I always hold the vials in my hand contemplating, while being angry at you for not taking me with you. Each Sunday that passes the urge to take them diminishes.

You so loved life and I’m trying so hard to learn to love and dwell in it as you often wished I would.

 

Continue on…

I have no choice, trudging through trying to find the new ‘normal’ while desperately holding on to what was, knowing the was, is in the past and no longer has a place in the present.mom3

I so miss you mom, my butterfly and my best friend. You are at peace, flying through another dimension. I pray you will be there, when it’s my time, to welcome me into your world as you welcomed me into this world.

I love you.

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