On Running…or random acts of self-gloating.

March 7, 2018March 8, 2018 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

Running, seriously keeps me in the moment, in the present, with thoughts dabbing tearfully at the past and plans my hand enjoys squashing like a giant bug swatter dealing with the future.

The act of running,

Is not running…

It’s training to run.

Training is…

Humiliating, teaching one to be humble during a race as gastrointestinal issues make an unexpected appearance before hitting a porta potty. Once there, one recuperates, cursing the lack of tp and continues afterwards with the…

Training that becomes…

Humbling, when a cocky self assured self decides to run a ½ marathon without the training and ends up puking on the side of the running path. Once there, one recuperates cursing at not having the time to train and continues afterwards with the…

Training that inspires…

Aspirations which turn into goals and thus become accomplishments. Once there, one recuperates, cursing at not recognizing what the hard work was for and duh, reveling in the feely, good thingys not only felt but held close to the heart.

Well, those are my thoughts on running or random acts of self-gloating.

No money in my pocket…

November 17, 2017November 17, 2017 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

The job I do which comes with money, insurance, sick and vacation days-

Will Never Define Me.

If I left tomorrow, another would take my place and yesterday’s trash would hold my memory. I work for an organization that bears no ownership from me but seeks to own me 9-5 five days a week, 52 weeks of the year.

Not my circus, not my monkeys and,

still I work.

For the pitiful salary that allows me to live paycheck to paycheck.

I work.

Twenty-three dollars of green and cream coloured paper can pay for a NYRR race so yes, I

work.

Some money is better than no money.

Before 9am I am the person who owns myself, running 4-6 miles through Ppark alleviating all the knots and kinks required for the introvert in me to go forth into the wonderful office space world where, annoying can’t be alone extroverts, rule.

After 5pm, I revert to being me, in my apartment, wearing the jammies, with the furbabies, two glasses of wine and a good book or SVU on the tube. The introvert in me welcomes my non-inclusive space.

Non-inclusive means space for me and surely not you.

Lord have mercy…

for the extroverts and their lonely selves cannot exist without the attention sucked from introverts who long for the private office the extroverts occupy.

Still I work.

Money is earned not given in my case.

I work…

not for the accolades which are reserved for those who make the most and work the least.

Work,

because it pays the endless bills left always in arrears.

Some money is better than no money so

I work and will keep working until the bills ride off into the sunset or I win mega millions and with my middle finger held high, I ride off into the sunset.

***images from the web…

Ellipsis abuse or….what I am.

June 16, 2017June 16, 2017 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

Ok…so I use allot of ellipsis. Allot.
In case you are wondering what ellipses are are defined by Webster:

Definition of ELLIPSIS
plural
ellipses
play\i-ˈlip-ˌsēz, e-\
1. 1a : the omission of one or more words that are obviously understood but that must be supplied to make a construction grammatically complete b : a sudden leap from one topic to another
2. 2: marks or a mark (such as … ) indicating an omission (as of words) or a pause

I surely did not know the definition of ellipses let alone the word itself until now…and I don’t care.
Ellipsis comes naturally to me. I pause. Allot. It’s how my mind works.
Thought…pause…thought…pause…

Of course, my use of the ellipsis is not in the norm of grammatically correct usage. Realistically it’s not…in my brain it is. I’d also elicit a ‘rolling eyes’ response from English professors with my abuse of contractions. I do try to spell out the: I would not, I would, cannot, should not, etc. Laziness in typing gets the best of me at times and…

I do not apologize for my ellipses or my contractions.Yup.

***image borrowed from the world wide web

Pieces…Bits and Pieces or WHEN

May 27, 2017May 27, 2017 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

How quickly the quality of life changes from normal to abnormal

WHEN…

You shaved under your arms with a dull razor two days ago and now two days later your pits are burning

WHEN…

You apply aloe vera to the burning pits, feeling relief until you feel, the LUMPS

WHEN…

Survival mode kicks in, and you’ve been through this before with your mom and know the deal-time is of the essence, so they say, but when it’s happening to you, time goes on fast forward with you driving the train with a clutch when you only know how to drive automatic

WHEN…

Through the layers of receptionists at the doctor’s office and strategically planning, you finally get the receptionist who is willing to help you get that next day appointment

WHEN…

You go through a mammogram diagnostic (you don’t wanna know the details) and ultrasound on the day of your mother’s birth and you keep it on the down low, because your mom is 90 and can’t deal with the possibility of her daughter being diagnosed with breast cancer, most especially when your mom went through the kidney bean episode with her sister who died from it.

WHEN…

You realize how YOU are the THREAD that holds your precious family (mom and fur babies) together and don’t have any provisions or alternative plans for them to follow if YOU should GO before THEM

WHEN…

The diagnosis is normal.

Nothing’s wrong.

No lumps.

Enlarged lymph nodes due to shaving.

And…

the doctor looks at you as if you have three heads but you could care less because being hysterically pro active when cancer runs in the family is far better than sitting back and wishing the lumps would magically disappear overnight.

How quickly our quality of life changes from abnormal back to normal.

…Bye Felicia Razors…
Hello Nair!

Sadness to Gladness to Gladness to Sadness or…Dear Lord please stop the madness!!!

May 14, 2017May 18, 2017 / Anelemc / 1 Comment

Glad…

Cooking red kidney beans and coconut rice requested by your sister who is, inappetent and lies dying from breast cancer in a hospital bed.

Sad…

You deliver the goods on the 2^nd day of her request and she dies on the third day without tasting a morsel.

SAD…

You do not cook red beans with coconut rice for a long time…

Glad…

…until you decide to make the coconut rice for yourself and buy the red beans subconsciously at Key Food.

Sad…

…when you realize the beans you bought are the red kidney beans you avoided for who knows how long because you have yet to recover from the red kidney beans and coconut rice incident from so long ago when your sister died from breast cancer.

GLAD…

…because your daughter who avoided red kidney beans like a deadly virus, accidently eats the red kidney beans mixed in with the coconut rice you made, because her mind was discombobulated in a strange way which is normal for her on any given day, but not on this day when her mind went far right instead of staying centered.

Glad but Sad…

My tía Nina (Bernice) died from breast cancer so long ago and mom, my mom did not take her passing lightly. I was by her side when the midnight call came letting us know Nina passed on. Mom cried, cried and cried, as I cried, cried and cried ions later when I lost Pi. I did not cry for my aunt at the time, as I was the crutch to hold my mom upright. I did not visit my aunt Nina (Bernice) during the hospital stay. My memories of her were meant to stay in the past, before the cancer: beautiful, dressed to the best, makeup and hair perfectly coiffed. At times, I say, bullshit to that excuse that acts as comfort when fear probably allowed that excuse of not visiting acceptable.

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Mom and Nina were not the best of friends when they reunited in America after going their separate ways in Honduras. Mom, was sent away with an aunt who lived in Jamaica to be raised in a culture that didn’t accept the ‘coolie shitting callaloo’ looking Indian girl, while Nina stayed in Honduras, going to school and perfecting her spanish language skills. Once the sisters reunited, got over the female drama, they traveled all over the Caribbean and became quite close.

My tía Nina (Bernice) always paid attention to me while the others (the Honduran aunts and uncles) had no time for the Jamaican blood that ran through my veins and made me the ‘other’ in their eyes.

Ma and Tia Nina in Ja096

I was not aware of the red kidney beans and coconut rice that transpired between them. Actually, I found out today. Mom cried when she told me how upset she was about Nina not eating the comfort food she requested before passing. I reminded her, how happy I was to eat it yesterday. She smiled…and made another pot of it for my weeks’ lunch…

Out of gladness comes sadness and out of sadness comes gladness…

Tia Nina018 (2)

Fragile…or How grief takes hold.

April 3, 2017 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

DSCN0869 Today, this day, the sky is grey and rain comes down. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes taking a break and sometimes…still waiting for the next sometime to write.

In November I posted my blog piece, ‘I No Longer have a heart…’ on an animal mourning website. Not sure what prompt me to do so but at the time felt a need to release my mourning by whatever means necessary. Forgot about the post, months passed and then Tuesday came.

I received an email from a pet owner. She lost her fur baby two days prior and was on her 18^th hour of crying, screaming, lashing out and not knowing how to deal with the pain.

Like me, she had to make the decision to end her dog’s life and wanted to know how I was doing after six months had passed.

Floored I was.

Did not expect this.

Came out of nowhere into my email which I was checking via Iphone while sitting in Fairway’s parking lot.

Started crying in the parking lot.

Cried, when I got home.

Cried touching his ashes.

Cried.

So f*****g sick of crying.

I responded to her email to let her know it does get better. Memories and pictures guide you through. Allowing grief to take its course is a given.

And it does get better.

I’ve surrounded myself with so many memories of him. His leash hangs on my coat rack, his collar on a peg in my bedroom where his ashes also rest. I live in the place, Brooklyn and in the house, Berkeley where the memories began. I run in the park he so cherished, especially on Monday mornings after the weekend barbeque garbage lays waiting.

Pi Patel will always be with me.

Curses and Blessings or Running around in Purgatory since Training is one step above Hell and one step down from Heaven…

March 19, 2017March 19, 2017 / Anelemc / Leave a comment

Wowza, what a can opener of a title!

But…

Titles ain’t nothing but a bunch of words struggling to rise to importance above the mediocre of other titles with a bunch of words struggling…

Okay. I stop.

In between days or rather in between jobs trying to figure out where to go from where I’ve been. Vet medicine is amazing when things go right, amazing when things go wrong, amazing.

Except…

When you work with people:

-who wear fur coats

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– who abusively use anti barking shock collars on their dogs

– who state you are “too nice with the animals” when restraining

– who laugh at you trying to comfort an animal coming out of anesthesia

-who only croon over the ‘cute ones’ while the ugly ones continue to stress from fear due to neglect not only from the previous owners but now the vet staff

-who come in to work with the alcohol from last night on the breath stench

-who sip Irish whiskey while rounding

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Okay. I stop.

Ruminating about the past, sours the moment of the present and surely delays the arrival of the future.

So…

I return to Curses and Blessings, which have nothing to do with the career I once loved, now loathe and in the process of giving up, but to running.

Yes, running.

The one thing keeping me sane right now and out of this place.

Rikers-Island1

Have you ever heard of a runner going postal on the supermarket line or better yet going postal waiting for the subway? imgres

Running (interval running in my case) gives me endorphins which are free, and produced by my brain (your brain as well). Endorphins are pain reducers and create within the body a feeling akin to morphine.

Are Endorphins addictive?

Not sure.

Ask Eminem.

2017 is the year of the 10k and the ½ marathon races. A graduation from the 5k’s of 2016. I have yet to run a 10k, (April 9^th is the first one) and the ½ marathon is not until October. Nevertheless, it is the year for transition and changes, literally and figuratively.

Now. Back to the title, the can opener which began this work of words.

While I run I listen to an eclectic bunch of music which I classify as Curses (sex, drugs, rnr, rehab and Led Zepplin (sigh) ) and blessings (chanting, Buddhism, Catholicism and Godspell-the musical) all within the scope of: opera, classical, disco, rap, rock (old school) new wave, county and so forth.

Take Led Zepplin. Curses or Blessings?

How about Buddhism chants? Curses or Blessings? (careful with your choice here)

I run.

Through transition and changes, figuratively and literally.

I run.

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