Monday, July 7, 2008
on wanting convenience.
i want things fast. i want things with no hassle. i don't want to speak. so, i shop online. i e-mail instead of send letters. i text instead of call. so when i want stamps with no social interaction, i go to the post office and buy stamps out of machine.
so i ventured out today to the local post office to buy stamps, and alas, the post office stamp machine was no longer vending booklets, indefinitely and perhaps forever. wtf. now, this completely negates the existence i want to have. who really wants to stand in line, fifteen deep with people who feel it necessary to talk to me because it is the "friendly, small-town thing to do"? you know what it really is? hell. i equate my personal experiences with these open gestures of "friendliness" to bloodletting.
in the words of salinger, why is this town so archaic and "assbackwards"?
________________________
dog walking.
I'm a responsible, caring person (and teacher with the summer off!) who has owned dogs for most of her life (presently, two Boxers). If you live in Gloversville or the surrounding area, I can provide you with a reliable dog walking service at a very reasonable rate. I do both regular scheduled bookings and an as-and-when-you-need-it service. My availability for the summer months is very flexible, but please note that it will change slightly when the school year starts.
I love animals and will treat your best friend like he or she is my own. Unlike many dog walkers, I won't walk him or her with other dogs unless you specifically request it. I'll ensure that he or she has fresh water on every walk. I can also leave you progress notes at no extra charge.
Because I work for myself and don't have the same overheads as a large company, I can offer a very competitive rate - $10 for 30 minutes of one-on-one care. Add $5 for each additional dog from the same household you would like walked at the same time if applicable. I'll never pack walk your pet with dogs he or she doesn't know.
A regular routine of fun, stimulating walks will ensure that your dog remains healthy and happy. It may also have a positive effect on your relationship with your dog, since adequate exercise may help to improve certain types of behavioral problems. Hyperactivity, destructiveness and house training issues are some examples of problems which may be alleviated through increased exercise and stimulation.
Please e-mail me at erica_the_dog_walker@yahoo.com to arrange a free, no obligation consultation to discuss your dog's needs and take him or her on a free trial walk.
Regards,
Erica
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dogs. Show all posts
Sunday, January 4, 2009
thirteen.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
An old poem.
I.
Today in the bathroom mirror I traced
the outlines of your furrowed visage and (my bleared eyes
brought us back to the living room on Three Kingsboro Avenue:
I, stoned, in that burlap chair.
You, still, on the couch)
the scar that would have been
if your neck had healed.
II.
Today felt like autumn.
Nose ruddy from north winds blowing through Avenue C:
I thought of those silly incantations in October afternoons,
urging drafts to emulsify—vivify
your relics.
III.
Today I read Walt Whitman, in honor of you.
Ruminations of his springs as my falls.
His lilacs, my begonias and grub bugs.
Graybeard's empyrean sky, my garden
where three-quarters of your ashes lie.
[October 2nd, 2003 Notation]
This October marks the beginning of the eighth stanza of my changed life. I am sure I will not 'cease my song for thee' as long as memory persists.
_________________________________________
Erica L. Dow 2003 5:29 AM
Friday, April 11, 2008
in loco parentis.
a colleague of mine has had a pretty rocky year. most are unsympathetic, and by far, the students are the ones who are the most ruthless. why is it, that we as teachers, can be so accommodating and forgiving of all of our students' problems and attitudes, but when we have a "bad" day we are no longer categorized as humans, but as monsters?
how is it that a student can yell at me for something that they did wrong, and not understand the legitimate consequences of his or her own poorly deliberated (and often unhealthy) decisions? why is that my seniors (my favorites), the most mature, the ones closest to plunging into the real world of it all, can be so hurtful?
Monday, April 07, 2008
a funeral.
recently, i read a blog by a talented individual about her experience disposing the artistic extensions of who she was, to embrace the person she is today. her blog made me think about what part of the old me I have been holding on to, even in the latter part of this new decade of age. i thought about whether or not i would have the cojones to rid myself of the only artistic expression that i was once (and maybe still am?) good at, but i’ve come to realize that i could never part with any of my writings, as much of it deals with my own grief regarding my dead father.
i’ve been thinking long and hard about what it is that i would like to bury, in hopes that a new me can grow from the dead weight of the old me. i decided that i would like to bury my silence and submissive attitude.
it has been far too easy for me to be quiet for all these years, silent in my own company, and painfully so in the presence of others. it is far to easy to say nothing even when i do have something to say. and,i do have something to say; i always have something to say. so today i will bury this part of the old me and embrace what it is that is now a part of the new me.
i want to thank this person (and her blog) for sharing her own experience and insight, as it has greatly helped me in discovering that we are all works in progress and that sometimes it is okay to just let go.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
new goal:
honesty, remix:
i will forever remain misunderstood if i allow my voice to be muted for the sake of other peoples' voiced opinions and or feelings. i will never be heard (or read, in this case), if i let my words fall to the knotted pit of my anxious stomach, only to be digested internally with the occasional flare up of heartacheburn. further, my new goal is not intended for the sole purpose of stirring shit up, or to exercise my right to be a bitch. its purpose is to get everything inside of me, out.
Monday, March 24, 2008
an unhealthy relationship with a blog.
my not-so-secret obsession is lurking profiles and reading blogs. this has been a voyeuristic habit of mine since the early days of livejournal. i don’t know what it is about blogs, but i’m hooked beyond a normal degree. i think i enjoy gaining insight to other’s lives, not to fulfill some empty space of dissatisfaction in my own, but perhaps to gauge my day to day experiences and emotions against another’s and, in totality, gauge my own sanity, or the times there is a lack thereof.
i’m obsessed with a local blogger whose life is an absolute fucking train wreck, and i cannot, for the life me, stop reading this person’s blog (and this person is not a "friend" in the myspace sense of the word, or even in the in-real-life sense of the word). i dislike this person with many fibers of my being, so why is it that i am glued to his or her blog? do i enjoy watching his or her plagued life unfold before my eyes? no, because it is beyond anti-climatic. do i wish ill will on he or she? no, because he or she has enough of his or her own to deal with. does this person make me feel secure within my own sanity? a little. i’ll tell you why i’m hooked: i’ve never been witness to such a disaster of a person in my entire life (textually and literally). never have i had such an experience to meet and read about a person who has so little regard for other people--his or her behavior is despicable, dehumanizing, and shamefully ostentatious.
what angers me the most is that the limits of this person’s lack of tact go well beyond personal interactions on a day to day basis--it is broadcast through online social networking sites. and i may be a hypocrite, as i stand a lesson or two in keeping private matters private, but i pride my self in being honest, careful, and somewhat cryptic in my textual deliveries of my somewhat suppressed emotional states.
this person’s blog perpetuates the severe dislike i already had for this person, so why do i willingly and faithfully read this blog on a day to day basis? because it reinforces not only what is wrong with this world, but makes me appreciate all the rights.
Monday, February 25, 2008
i don’t fit in.
and i probably never will. i know this. and, i am perfectly okay with this.
Monday, January 28, 2008
winter thaw.
a few things, which i would like to type out for my future self's sake:
one. i love the warmth and smell of my dingy dog so much it makes my heart melt.
two. i wrote a poem last week, whilst the students were taking part two of the english regents examination.
three. i hate my job.
four. i'm going to attempt writing a book. it will most likely turn out to be a novella. it has everything to do with item number three, but it will be partially fictionalized.
five. scary mansion sounds like cat power. and cat power's new album sucks.
six. i hate your fucking surveys, so stop, please.
seven. i like to make lists.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Sometimes I question my profession...
Current mood: calm.
Currently listening : I’m Sorry That Sometimes I’m Mean
By: Kimya Dawson
Release date: 02 December, 2003
..and what i love.
When I grow up I'd like to be a(n):
Radio jockey.
Veterinarian.
Writer.
Cosmetologist.
Social worker.
Massage therapist.
Actor (again).
As for hobbies, I'd like to:
Volunteer for a local pet rescue.
Be a seller on Ebay.
Learn to play guitar from Jacob.
Construct a four square team or kickball team (high school coach).
Knit.
Monday, October 15, 2007
if you’re racist... that scares me.
if you're sexist, xenophobic, and or homophobic, that scares me too.
scares me into being angry at you. and, not liking you. don't be an idiot.
just sayin'.
Friday, October 12, 2007
black francis and the christmas tree shop.
what the hell happened to black francis? captain pasty is THE WORST song ever.
and, i think the christmas tree shop should be burnt down. ALL of them.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
a deer, i hit.
i was very prepared for a long and eventful day. i woke up at ten of five this morning. i coffee'd, i showered, i packed for the gym, i packed for parent-teacher night. i left at around 6:30 this morning. i and my automobile traveled down state street, through the light that intersects 30A. i drove past hussman, and i drove past the forrester's club. and i almost made it to the sign that denotes the change of speed limit from forty miles per hour to fifty-five miles per hour. but, i did not make it, which could have been my saving grace.
a pack of my favorite large-sized furry friends--a mother, a father, and child--traveled across the paved way through the agragian panorama of mayfield. i did not hit the brakes hard, as the road was slick from a damp night. but in this instance brakes would not have stopped me from hitting the stalwart hind-end of one of the deers. all i saw, in my periphery, was the deer flip, as the other two ran off to the sanctity of the woods.
i just remember shaking uncontrollably, but i was not hurt (thankfully).
this experience made me think about why people hunt. it seems so foolish. i feared that the deer i hit would die (a driver of the local transportation system of gloversville, who witnessed the entire scene told me the hit deer ran off). i felt an overwhelming sensation of grief thinking about the more-than-likely-fatally-injured animal and thought: why would anyone purposely kill for sport? it seems so asinine and cruel.
this entry was sort of tangential. for those of you that are worried about me, i'm fine, though my nerves are shot.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Hulk Hogan and Bruce Springsteen.
Current mood: tired
Category: Life
Currently listening : Zeitgeist
By: Smashing Pumpkins
Release date: 10 July, 2007
i feel horribly guilty even admitting that when i was much, much younger i yearned for a famous dad. my famous dream dads were: hulk hogan and bruce springsteen. hulk hogan, back in the day seemed so outrageous, yet down to earth. i have recently divorced my dream of having hogan as a dad--his show "hogan knows best" dashed my childhood dreams; he has has become too hollywood and oily (and tan!) and extremely outrageous, to a sickening degree.
bruce, on the other hand, is still unbelievably amazing.
but, neither can compare to the father i lost over twelve years ago.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Working.
Well, I went to work on Monday and promised myself I would return Tuesday and Wednesday. I broke my promise to myself. And here I sit wishing I went in. What prevented me? Sound sleep with dreams of neck biting zombies, sexing snakes, and mentally perverse murderers.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
september twenty-fourth.
[insert picture of laproscopy]
Saturday, July 28, 2007
one of the worst feelings.
at least for me, is to be slighted by loved ones when simple acts of consideration can make all the difference in one's day.
i'm just menstrual, i suppose.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
new doctor.
i finally got a new doctor, as my last appointment with the previous doctor was a train wreck. bad news is that i pretty much have endometriosis. and my cyst is still hanging around. i have an appointment with the new doctor on the first of august. wish me luck.
i missed the lemonheads last saturday, and a joyce carol oates reading at skidmore on the eleventh.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
blogs.
i read them and now i have gone back to reading livejournals too. thank goodness i will be working on kevin's project soon.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Future plans, summer plans.
So I am opting not to teach summer school, as I told my friend Natasha I believe the abuse that summer school represents could be likened to the torture one would receive in the Malebolge of Dante's Inferno. I hope I get to work the days I put in for at the school, as the pay is hella and it is at my leisure and can be done from home (I love the Internet).
So on this list of summer plans slash ideas:
1. A trip to Animal Land (shut up, I want to pet the llamas).
2. THE MOTHER-EFFIN GREAT ESCAPE AND SPLASH WATER KINGDOM.
3. Field hockey summer league in Gloversville or maybe a field hockey team in Albany (which I might add: the first scrimmage is this Sunday at 6:30 at UAlbany, on the turf).
4. Gym membership or some place that offers yoga. I really want to do Bikram yoga on the regular, but I am unaware of where I should actually go.
5. An all ladies trip to a spa in Saratoga.
6. Lotsa horse-ball and bowling.
7. Fixing my Peugeot inner-tube and blazing trails on two wheels throughout the Kingdom of Fulton County.
6. A summer bartending gig (maybe Saratoga). I did bartend in SoHo for two years whilst living in the city. I am no Tom Cruise from Cocktail, but I am fast and can make a innovative cocktail in a minute.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
On seeing a specialist.
All of my doctor experiences in Gloversville, aside from my pediatric care, have been pitiful and confusing: antiquated tools of the trade, as in ultrasound machines from '84 and filing systems on computers older than I (Commodore); cramped dirty rooms; and megalomaniacal local doctors.
What it is inside me is not known. I have a fourth appointment in a month regarding the size of my (it belongs to me; I have taken ownership of this undesirable abnormal character) ovarian cyst, with free flowing browned blood swimming inside. My last appointment the doctor had a "hypothetical" conversation with me regarding endometriosis and my "potential" issues with infertility. All of which was grounded in speculation, as hard evidence in the form of testing does not exist. His solution to my health issue was to sit and wait and agonize for one more month.
I should see a specialist outside of this area.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
on being tired.
it seems these days that if i tell someone i'm tired, the retort i generally receive is "wait 'til you have kids." hi, i have kids. fifty-six of them to be exact. and last year i had eighty seven, and the year before that, over one hundred and five. the way things are going, anatomically speaking, i might not be able to have kids, so one: it bothers me when people say this because of my recent issues with health; and two: it is rude to assume that i don't know the meaning of tired considering my life, personal, and professional interests have everything to do with children and young adults.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
I’m just a quiet person.
I know some of you think I have been quiet and maybe sort of "off" lately. Maybe you think I don't like you because I don't have a lot to say—this is wrong. I'm just a quiet person.
I've never felt comfortable talking around people; I have never felt comfortable with having friends. For more than ten years I have been on my own, for the most part. In high school I had a small group of close friends, but watched those relationships either fade or disintegrate for one reason or another (college, time, distance damage, arguments, et cetera). In college I had one solid friend, but after graduation our relationship became diluted by our post-college interests and careers. My early years in New York City and Boston were clouded with getting to know these new places—and I wasn't in these places long enough to establish any friendships. The last few years in New York yielded one solid friendship with a colleague and since my relocation to upstate we have lost touch too.
I have Jacob and his wonderful family, Tyler, and my family and I am satisfied with these things—and I don't mind sharing the wealth because each are amazing and intoxicating and their energy needs to be shared with others. But, I'm not ready to share too much of myself with anyone outside these things just yet. I'm nervously shy, complicated (who isn't), emotional, and quietly contemplative; I don't want you to confuse these aspects of my personality by equating me with a bitch or think that I am judging you.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Memento Mori: Loki
Yesterday, almost home, from my tiring hour commute from work, my mother called to discuss and weep, the decision she and Ron made to put Loki down, as he was very ill during the night. She told me he was euthanized at 10:30 in the morning and they had plans to bury his body (as opposed to shipping him off to an Albany crematorium) just beyond the small tree farm, slightly before the wood of their ever-expansive acreage.
I won't spare the details. My mother woke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and returned to bed. It is customary for Loki to follow anyone he feels the need to protect, even if the distance is a few feet. Both returned to sleep. But Ron woke in the middle of the night startled by a strange smell and woke my mother and they both found Loki lying in a pool of his own tar-like feces. They took him outside so he could eliminate more without embarrassment, cleaned him up, and fixed him up a resting spot in the garage. I doubt if any of them slept.
In the morning my brother brought up his mini-van to transport Loki to the veterinarian. I was told Loki had a large tumor in his stomach and a tumor on his spleen; his blood work was far from copacetic.
We got Loki shortly after my father died. He was the best thing for us at the time, as we no longer could mope about when there was a puppy to look after. He was good for all of us; a good companion that forced us to stop grieving once in a while. He was an integral part of my post-pubescent existence. He was my furry four-legged protector and constant shadow.
After eleven years it is natural for a family to move from one stage of life to other stages. I went to college, moved about the Northeast, settled in New York City for more than three years before moving back Upstate to be closer to my family and to Jacob. My mother found love again, remarried, and relocated a few towns over. My brother has been preserving my childhood memory of "home," found love, and is a loving father of two and a soon-to-be husband. With all the changes in our family dynamic, Loki was our constant—the tangible furry glue of a once three-member family who had lost their fourth. Yesterday I felt like my memories of what used to be, what once was, were gone; that without Loki to remind me of my sixteen year old self and grueling depressive years to follow I would not know what to turn to when memories are needed.
But memories never really expire—the sound of my father's voice faded long ago, but this does not mean I don't remember his words. I will never have that midnight black shadow of Loki to follow me from room to room, but I will never forget him and what he represents in the grander scale of things. But, I will surely miss him; he was a good boy.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
ge commercials make me laugh.
they sure do.
i have two doctor's appointments in the next two weeks to clarify the length of my life i'm sure.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
ovarian cyst.
this might be too much information about ms. dow than you would care to know. know this: i have a cyst on one of my ovaries. but, i really think my ovary has sprouted arms and is punching me, repeatedly, in the gut. or it is dancing, drunk, wildly, around my fallopian tube.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Air.
In the very early mornings and in the early evenings I enjoy spending more time in the yard with Tyler. It is because of the air—crisp and intoxicating.
I remember living off of Houston and between Avenue C and D. Waking to the smells of exhaust filtering through my south bound window and walking home from bartending in the wee hours of the morning, disgusted more by the smell of dirty air than the foul sticky smell of dried alcohol and cigarette smoke that clung to my clothes and hair. On Twenty-ninth Street, just off of Fourth Avenue, the same dingy highway-like air made me want to die as my hand griped my inhaler.
Another reason I am happy about my move: air.
Friday, March 23, 2007
also, i like to read blogs.
even if i don't know you. i would read livejournals all day, but now it's myspace blogs. if you have a tracker i'm not stalking you. i just like blogs.
----------
a dream about dying. i had today. and i woke up all tears.
the sequence of the dream images leading up to the "death scene" is confusing, but i ended up in a vestibule of a house, perhaps a rustic cabin. i was accompanied by a host, and at this point it escapes me whether or not this host was human or animal. i'm thinking it was a human, as he (not she) spoke to me in standard american english. i was also surrounded by a grey and white kitten and what i remember to be a rabbit who told me he (yes, he) rode bulls. i do believe the kitten represents the non-verbal communication of love as i was asked to mimic its actions, which of course consisted of nuzzling against me, the host, and the rabbit, whilst purring. the rabbit, who happened to also speak standard american english, told me the hardest challenges he endured in his lifetime was riding bulls. i think this is linked, metaphorically, to the challenges we all have in life (juxtaposed, of course, to what i will now refer to as the "kitten" experience we all long for when faced with tough challenges). the rabbit suggested to me that another good outlet to the feeling associated with being challenged (frustration) is to dance it off. i remember in my dream i closed my eyes and wriggled to a the beat of deep sadness i seem to hold in my heart in my conscious life.
after the lectures, the dancing, and the nuzzling (it happened in this order) my host was about to tell me it was "time to go." i told him i was aware of what was happening (although i am positive he, nor the others, were trying to be tricksy) , even though i did not want to go through with it.
he opened the door to the "outside" world, which of course offered its light to the darkness of the vestibule. i remember i asked my host if it was okay to be scared. he replied that it was perfectly okay to be scared, but assured me there was nothing to be afraid of. i asked him if i would have just as many friends on the other side, to which he replied "of course. you will have as many friends as you need."
before i walked through the threshold, i woke up (crying).
Sunday, March 18, 2007
two excellent movies.
i recommend the following:
brick
and
half nelson
Monday, March 12, 2007
built by wendy.
wendy mullin i love your clothes, but why so pricey? design a line for target.
my wallet hates you wendy.
---------
the tale of the winter piglet. i cannot stop eating. even when i am not hungry i still eat. i dream of ice cream while i eat cookies. of bagels when i eat muffins. food is all i want. all. the. time.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
target and clothes.
when i moved to new york city, four years ago, i discovered the glory of target. i became an avid disciple--namely, for clothes. to this day i still get most of my clothes from target. i am extremely tickled by the the design for all program they have implemented. i have loved all the go designers, save for maybe two (the past winter season selection was disgusting).
i am so happy that proenza schouler is designing affordable (super cheap prices, but great quality) clothes for target. my only issue with them is the season they have chosen to design for. all the vibrant colors make me want to die (save for the purple pencil skirt)--i only wished they designed for the fall season. their fall clothing is amazing (proenza schouler fall 2005)
Saturday, February 10, 2007
mark strand poem
"Coming To This"
We have done what we wanted.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry
of each other, and we have welcomed grief
and called ruin the impossible habit to break.
And now we are here.
The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.
The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.
The wine waits.
Coming to this
has its rewards: nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.
We have no heart or saving grace,
no place to go, no reason to remain.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
dog babies and homework.
i was on the couch last night. jacob was doing his homework and i said:
"tyler would be the worst mommy. she'd probably eat her kids."
tyler will never have babies, unless by miracle, which made me sort of sad. maybe she would be a good mother? but, i'm still convinced she'd mouth atleast one of them.
----------
i'm so hungry i could eat ten biggy iggy ice cream sandwiches from stewart's.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Naps.
I haven't been taking them as much as my body yearns for them.
I take them when I am tired.
I take them when I am depressed because I'd rather sleep than tap into hatred.
I take them when I long for company when Jacob is not around. Tyler is warm and snores like Jacob too.
---------
On another note altogether, why do people seem sketchy? Maybe I am paranoid.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
also, a poem rather, an excerpt:
what are words, i want to ask you, what
is clarity and why do words keep burning
a century later, though the earth
weighs so much?
from "a talk with friedrich nietzsche" by adam zagajewski.
--------
antigone. i'm going to watch this movie in the absence of my other half. then i will gouge my eyes out in reverence.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
My Chelsea students...
I just want to say these things: I miss you all (even the ones who drove me nuts--you know who you are) and I am proud of you all. Class of 2008, you are the best group of young adults, ever.
Friday, December 29, 2006
shaking hands with a genius.
i went to applebee's and had kettle (tavern) chips smothered with cheese and bacon. i wish i invented this dish.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
my heart attack.
salmon wrapped in bacon topped with cheese. best. dinner. ever.
atleast today ended on a good note. this weekend was abysmal.
--------
for mary... your profile makes my computer freeze:
[insert absent image of dancing robot]
Saturday, December 09, 2006
friend.
you know, it has been about seven years since i had a good best friend. i had natasha, but after college we grew apart and now she lives in scotland with her husband and dog. i became close with nikki in brooklyn as we lived together, briefly, and co-taught together for two years at chelsea. and here i am, in this bleak town and i feel pretty lonely. maybe that is why i liked living in new york: i was always too busy to be lonely. here i have more time on my hands than i can actually deal with and i find myself sleeping a good chunk of it away because i'm so blah (minus the time spent with jacob).
Saturday, December 02, 2006
esouh.
i want to puke all over myself.
Monday, November 27, 2006
crap carp prac parc arcp
Last night I zoned out during the shittiest movie ever, "The DaVinci Code," and for moments I truly thought I was a clairvoyant, as I seemed to see clearly into my doomy future where I only wore sweatpants, ate noodles with butter, and lamented to Jacob that shampoo and soap should be separate showering entities and or luxuries.
This house shit has my brain on the fritz and I wonder if we can really do this without going stark-raving loonie. I think to myself: "I have to do this; I am twenty seven. I have no babies, I cannot rent forever..I am an adult, right?"
What if I had stayed in Brooklyn? What would it have been like? The traveling would tear us apart. Now that I am here will our obsessive-compulsive, fixative habits make us want to bounce off each other like walking padded rooms, or will we just stick together like glue and have our insecurities co-mingle in an emotional tick-oriented bliss?
I can speculate about what it would have been like to have stayed in Brooklyn, but what I have learned is that love is worth more than a twelve-grand pay cut and feeling severely uncomfortable, socially, in this insular town--it is transcendent.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I should have stayed in Brooklyn.
Sometimes I think this.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Slang.
One thing I miss about being in the city is slang. Someone used the phrase dead-ass in class the other day (in an awkward manner no less--it sounded less like one huffy fast deadass and more like dead-pause-pause-pause-asssssss) and I felt like telling him that phrase is so beat these days. But how would he know? What is hip here was hip more than two years ago down there. I don't even want to get into music or the style of clothes.
Yes, I used the word hip. Shut up.
Friday, October 27, 2006
On Walking Dogs.
Current mood: annoyed
Currently listening: Mule Variations
By: Tom Waits
Release date: 27 April, 1999
Walking dogs should be done, always, with leashes. Aside from my roommates' dog that happens to be the most docile and oblivious dog I know to date, all dogs should be walked with a leash. I will even say that any dog walker walking a dog without a leash is full-fledged moron. My case in point: yesterday afternoon, after arriving at my apartment to pick up some things for a night of grading at JV's while he was in class, I witnessed a small dog (a size-challenged breed I personally abhor) being attacked by to unleashed dogs. If it wasn't bad enough watching a small dog being mauled by some feral-looking, hick-bred dog, compound this image with a wire-hanger abortion scream coming from a young girl still holding onto the leash of her small dog. Then to add to the chaotic cacophony of hell-hound barks and anti-orgasmic screams, picture the potential hick-breeder, but most certainly hick-owner, of these ravenous, feral-looking dogs yelling out commands and kicking about like a Nazi war solider, all of which the dogs did not respond to. I mean, I will admit it: I hate small dogs. There is no room in our Darwinist society for small dogs, but they do exist, sadly, and they should have at least the minimal right to be walked around in a safe environment by owners who should wear no fear against unleashed animals. There is also no room in our Darwinist society for morons, especially those specific types of morons who own dogs and choose not to walk them on leashes. Sadly, these morons exist and I have no solution to remedy the error of their moronic ways, but I sure hope someone does and perhaps their fate will be in the form of some Hades-like Malebolge that awaits them in after-life.
An old poem.
I.
Today in the bathroom mirror I traced
the outlines of your furrowed visage and (my bleared eyes
brought us back to the living room on Three Kingsboro Avenue:
I, stoned, in that burlap chair.
You, still, on the couch)
the scar that would have been
if your neck had healed.
II.
Today felt like autumn.
Nose ruddy from north winds blowing through Avenue C:
I thought of those silly incantations in October afternoons,
urging drafts to emulsify—vivify
your relics.
III.
Today I read Walt Whitman, in honor of you.
Ruminations of his springs as my falls.
His lilacs, my begonias and grub bugs.
Graybeard's empyrean sky, my garden
where three-quarters of your ashes lie.
[October 2nd, 2003 Notation]
This October marks the beginning of the eighth stanza of my changed life. I am sure I will not 'cease my song for thee' as long as memory persists.
_________________________________________
Erica L. Dow 2003 5:29 AM
Friday, April 11, 2008
in loco parentis.
a colleague of mine has had a pretty rocky year. most are unsympathetic, and by far, the students are the ones who are the most ruthless. why is it, that we as teachers, can be so accommodating and forgiving of all of our students' problems and attitudes, but when we have a "bad" day we are no longer categorized as humans, but as monsters?
how is it that a student can yell at me for something that they did wrong, and not understand the legitimate consequences of his or her own poorly deliberated (and often unhealthy) decisions? why is that my seniors (my favorites), the most mature, the ones closest to plunging into the real world of it all, can be so hurtful?
Monday, April 07, 2008
a funeral.
recently, i read a blog by a talented individual about her experience disposing the artistic extensions of who she was, to embrace the person she is today. her blog made me think about what part of the old me I have been holding on to, even in the latter part of this new decade of age. i thought about whether or not i would have the cojones to rid myself of the only artistic expression that i was once (and maybe still am?) good at, but i’ve come to realize that i could never part with any of my writings, as much of it deals with my own grief regarding my dead father.
i’ve been thinking long and hard about what it is that i would like to bury, in hopes that a new me can grow from the dead weight of the old me. i decided that i would like to bury my silence and submissive attitude.
it has been far too easy for me to be quiet for all these years, silent in my own company, and painfully so in the presence of others. it is far to easy to say nothing even when i do have something to say. and,i do have something to say; i always have something to say. so today i will bury this part of the old me and embrace what it is that is now a part of the new me.
i want to thank this person (and her blog) for sharing her own experience and insight, as it has greatly helped me in discovering that we are all works in progress and that sometimes it is okay to just let go.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
new goal:
honesty, remix:
i will forever remain misunderstood if i allow my voice to be muted for the sake of other peoples' voiced opinions and or feelings. i will never be heard (or read, in this case), if i let my words fall to the knotted pit of my anxious stomach, only to be digested internally with the occasional flare up of heartacheburn. further, my new goal is not intended for the sole purpose of stirring shit up, or to exercise my right to be a bitch. its purpose is to get everything inside of me, out.
Monday, March 24, 2008
an unhealthy relationship with a blog.
my not-so-secret obsession is lurking profiles and reading blogs. this has been a voyeuristic habit of mine since the early days of livejournal. i don’t know what it is about blogs, but i’m hooked beyond a normal degree. i think i enjoy gaining insight to other’s lives, not to fulfill some empty space of dissatisfaction in my own, but perhaps to gauge my day to day experiences and emotions against another’s and, in totality, gauge my own sanity, or the times there is a lack thereof.
i’m obsessed with a local blogger whose life is an absolute fucking train wreck, and i cannot, for the life me, stop reading this person’s blog (and this person is not a "friend" in the myspace sense of the word, or even in the in-real-life sense of the word). i dislike this person with many fibers of my being, so why is it that i am glued to his or her blog? do i enjoy watching his or her plagued life unfold before my eyes? no, because it is beyond anti-climatic. do i wish ill will on he or she? no, because he or she has enough of his or her own to deal with. does this person make me feel secure within my own sanity? a little. i’ll tell you why i’m hooked: i’ve never been witness to such a disaster of a person in my entire life (textually and literally). never have i had such an experience to meet and read about a person who has so little regard for other people--his or her behavior is despicable, dehumanizing, and shamefully ostentatious.
what angers me the most is that the limits of this person’s lack of tact go well beyond personal interactions on a day to day basis--it is broadcast through online social networking sites. and i may be a hypocrite, as i stand a lesson or two in keeping private matters private, but i pride my self in being honest, careful, and somewhat cryptic in my textual deliveries of my somewhat suppressed emotional states.
this person’s blog perpetuates the severe dislike i already had for this person, so why do i willingly and faithfully read this blog on a day to day basis? because it reinforces not only what is wrong with this world, but makes me appreciate all the rights.
Monday, February 25, 2008
i don’t fit in.
and i probably never will. i know this. and, i am perfectly okay with this.
Monday, January 28, 2008
winter thaw.
a few things, which i would like to type out for my future self's sake:
one. i love the warmth and smell of my dingy dog so much it makes my heart melt.
two. i wrote a poem last week, whilst the students were taking part two of the english regents examination.
three. i hate my job.
four. i'm going to attempt writing a book. it will most likely turn out to be a novella. it has everything to do with item number three, but it will be partially fictionalized.
five. scary mansion sounds like cat power. and cat power's new album sucks.
six. i hate your fucking surveys, so stop, please.
seven. i like to make lists.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Sometimes I question my profession...
Current mood: calm.
Currently listening : I’m Sorry That Sometimes I’m Mean
By: Kimya Dawson
Release date: 02 December, 2003
..and what i love.
When I grow up I'd like to be a(n):
Radio jockey.
Veterinarian.
Writer.
Cosmetologist.
Social worker.
Massage therapist.
Actor (again).
As for hobbies, I'd like to:
Volunteer for a local pet rescue.
Be a seller on Ebay.
Learn to play guitar from Jacob.
Construct a four square team or kickball team (high school coach).
Knit.
Monday, October 15, 2007
if you’re racist... that scares me.
if you're sexist, xenophobic, and or homophobic, that scares me too.
scares me into being angry at you. and, not liking you. don't be an idiot.
just sayin'.
Friday, October 12, 2007
black francis and the christmas tree shop.
what the hell happened to black francis? captain pasty is THE WORST song ever.
and, i think the christmas tree shop should be burnt down. ALL of them.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
a deer, i hit.
i was very prepared for a long and eventful day. i woke up at ten of five this morning. i coffee'd, i showered, i packed for the gym, i packed for parent-teacher night. i left at around 6:30 this morning. i and my automobile traveled down state street, through the light that intersects 30A. i drove past hussman, and i drove past the forrester's club. and i almost made it to the sign that denotes the change of speed limit from forty miles per hour to fifty-five miles per hour. but, i did not make it, which could have been my saving grace.
a pack of my favorite large-sized furry friends--a mother, a father, and child--traveled across the paved way through the agragian panorama of mayfield. i did not hit the brakes hard, as the road was slick from a damp night. but in this instance brakes would not have stopped me from hitting the stalwart hind-end of one of the deers. all i saw, in my periphery, was the deer flip, as the other two ran off to the sanctity of the woods.
i just remember shaking uncontrollably, but i was not hurt (thankfully).
this experience made me think about why people hunt. it seems so foolish. i feared that the deer i hit would die (a driver of the local transportation system of gloversville, who witnessed the entire scene told me the hit deer ran off). i felt an overwhelming sensation of grief thinking about the more-than-likely-fatally-injured animal and thought: why would anyone purposely kill for sport? it seems so asinine and cruel.
this entry was sort of tangential. for those of you that are worried about me, i'm fine, though my nerves are shot.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Hulk Hogan and Bruce Springsteen.
Current mood: tired
Category: Life
Currently listening : Zeitgeist
By: Smashing Pumpkins
Release date: 10 July, 2007
i feel horribly guilty even admitting that when i was much, much younger i yearned for a famous dad. my famous dream dads were: hulk hogan and bruce springsteen. hulk hogan, back in the day seemed so outrageous, yet down to earth. i have recently divorced my dream of having hogan as a dad--his show "hogan knows best" dashed my childhood dreams; he has has become too hollywood and oily (and tan!) and extremely outrageous, to a sickening degree.
bruce, on the other hand, is still unbelievably amazing.
but, neither can compare to the father i lost over twelve years ago.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Working.
Well, I went to work on Monday and promised myself I would return Tuesday and Wednesday. I broke my promise to myself. And here I sit wishing I went in. What prevented me? Sound sleep with dreams of neck biting zombies, sexing snakes, and mentally perverse murderers.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
september twenty-fourth.
[insert picture of laproscopy]
Saturday, July 28, 2007
one of the worst feelings.
at least for me, is to be slighted by loved ones when simple acts of consideration can make all the difference in one's day.
i'm just menstrual, i suppose.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
new doctor.
i finally got a new doctor, as my last appointment with the previous doctor was a train wreck. bad news is that i pretty much have endometriosis. and my cyst is still hanging around. i have an appointment with the new doctor on the first of august. wish me luck.
i missed the lemonheads last saturday, and a joyce carol oates reading at skidmore on the eleventh.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
blogs.
i read them and now i have gone back to reading livejournals too. thank goodness i will be working on kevin's project soon.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Future plans, summer plans.
So I am opting not to teach summer school, as I told my friend Natasha I believe the abuse that summer school represents could be likened to the torture one would receive in the Malebolge of Dante's Inferno. I hope I get to work the days I put in for at the school, as the pay is hella and it is at my leisure and can be done from home (I love the Internet).
So on this list of summer plans slash ideas:
1. A trip to Animal Land (shut up, I want to pet the llamas).
2. THE MOTHER-EFFIN GREAT ESCAPE AND SPLASH WATER KINGDOM.
3. Field hockey summer league in Gloversville or maybe a field hockey team in Albany (which I might add: the first scrimmage is this Sunday at 6:30 at UAlbany, on the turf).
4. Gym membership or some place that offers yoga. I really want to do Bikram yoga on the regular, but I am unaware of where I should actually go.
5. An all ladies trip to a spa in Saratoga.
6. Lotsa horse-ball and bowling.
7. Fixing my Peugeot inner-tube and blazing trails on two wheels throughout the Kingdom of Fulton County.
6. A summer bartending gig (maybe Saratoga). I did bartend in SoHo for two years whilst living in the city. I am no Tom Cruise from Cocktail, but I am fast and can make a innovative cocktail in a minute.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
On seeing a specialist.
All of my doctor experiences in Gloversville, aside from my pediatric care, have been pitiful and confusing: antiquated tools of the trade, as in ultrasound machines from '84 and filing systems on computers older than I (Commodore); cramped dirty rooms; and megalomaniacal local doctors.
What it is inside me is not known. I have a fourth appointment in a month regarding the size of my (it belongs to me; I have taken ownership of this undesirable abnormal character) ovarian cyst, with free flowing browned blood swimming inside. My last appointment the doctor had a "hypothetical" conversation with me regarding endometriosis and my "potential" issues with infertility. All of which was grounded in speculation, as hard evidence in the form of testing does not exist. His solution to my health issue was to sit and wait and agonize for one more month.
I should see a specialist outside of this area.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
on being tired.
it seems these days that if i tell someone i'm tired, the retort i generally receive is "wait 'til you have kids." hi, i have kids. fifty-six of them to be exact. and last year i had eighty seven, and the year before that, over one hundred and five. the way things are going, anatomically speaking, i might not be able to have kids, so one: it bothers me when people say this because of my recent issues with health; and two: it is rude to assume that i don't know the meaning of tired considering my life, personal, and professional interests have everything to do with children and young adults.
Saturday, May 05, 2007
I’m just a quiet person.
I know some of you think I have been quiet and maybe sort of "off" lately. Maybe you think I don't like you because I don't have a lot to say—this is wrong. I'm just a quiet person.
I've never felt comfortable talking around people; I have never felt comfortable with having friends. For more than ten years I have been on my own, for the most part. In high school I had a small group of close friends, but watched those relationships either fade or disintegrate for one reason or another (college, time, distance damage, arguments, et cetera). In college I had one solid friend, but after graduation our relationship became diluted by our post-college interests and careers. My early years in New York City and Boston were clouded with getting to know these new places—and I wasn't in these places long enough to establish any friendships. The last few years in New York yielded one solid friendship with a colleague and since my relocation to upstate we have lost touch too.
I have Jacob and his wonderful family, Tyler, and my family and I am satisfied with these things—and I don't mind sharing the wealth because each are amazing and intoxicating and their energy needs to be shared with others. But, I'm not ready to share too much of myself with anyone outside these things just yet. I'm nervously shy, complicated (who isn't), emotional, and quietly contemplative; I don't want you to confuse these aspects of my personality by equating me with a bitch or think that I am judging you.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Memento Mori: Loki
Yesterday, almost home, from my tiring hour commute from work, my mother called to discuss and weep, the decision she and Ron made to put Loki down, as he was very ill during the night. She told me he was euthanized at 10:30 in the morning and they had plans to bury his body (as opposed to shipping him off to an Albany crematorium) just beyond the small tree farm, slightly before the wood of their ever-expansive acreage.
I won't spare the details. My mother woke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and returned to bed. It is customary for Loki to follow anyone he feels the need to protect, even if the distance is a few feet. Both returned to sleep. But Ron woke in the middle of the night startled by a strange smell and woke my mother and they both found Loki lying in a pool of his own tar-like feces. They took him outside so he could eliminate more without embarrassment, cleaned him up, and fixed him up a resting spot in the garage. I doubt if any of them slept.
In the morning my brother brought up his mini-van to transport Loki to the veterinarian. I was told Loki had a large tumor in his stomach and a tumor on his spleen; his blood work was far from copacetic.
We got Loki shortly after my father died. He was the best thing for us at the time, as we no longer could mope about when there was a puppy to look after. He was good for all of us; a good companion that forced us to stop grieving once in a while. He was an integral part of my post-pubescent existence. He was my furry four-legged protector and constant shadow.
After eleven years it is natural for a family to move from one stage of life to other stages. I went to college, moved about the Northeast, settled in New York City for more than three years before moving back Upstate to be closer to my family and to Jacob. My mother found love again, remarried, and relocated a few towns over. My brother has been preserving my childhood memory of "home," found love, and is a loving father of two and a soon-to-be husband. With all the changes in our family dynamic, Loki was our constant—the tangible furry glue of a once three-member family who had lost their fourth. Yesterday I felt like my memories of what used to be, what once was, were gone; that without Loki to remind me of my sixteen year old self and grueling depressive years to follow I would not know what to turn to when memories are needed.
But memories never really expire—the sound of my father's voice faded long ago, but this does not mean I don't remember his words. I will never have that midnight black shadow of Loki to follow me from room to room, but I will never forget him and what he represents in the grander scale of things. But, I will surely miss him; he was a good boy.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
ge commercials make me laugh.
they sure do.
i have two doctor's appointments in the next two weeks to clarify the length of my life i'm sure.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
ovarian cyst.
this might be too much information about ms. dow than you would care to know. know this: i have a cyst on one of my ovaries. but, i really think my ovary has sprouted arms and is punching me, repeatedly, in the gut. or it is dancing, drunk, wildly, around my fallopian tube.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Air.
In the very early mornings and in the early evenings I enjoy spending more time in the yard with Tyler. It is because of the air—crisp and intoxicating.
I remember living off of Houston and between Avenue C and D. Waking to the smells of exhaust filtering through my south bound window and walking home from bartending in the wee hours of the morning, disgusted more by the smell of dirty air than the foul sticky smell of dried alcohol and cigarette smoke that clung to my clothes and hair. On Twenty-ninth Street, just off of Fourth Avenue, the same dingy highway-like air made me want to die as my hand griped my inhaler.
Another reason I am happy about my move: air.
Friday, March 23, 2007
also, i like to read blogs.
even if i don't know you. i would read livejournals all day, but now it's myspace blogs. if you have a tracker i'm not stalking you. i just like blogs.
----------
a dream about dying. i had today. and i woke up all tears.
the sequence of the dream images leading up to the "death scene" is confusing, but i ended up in a vestibule of a house, perhaps a rustic cabin. i was accompanied by a host, and at this point it escapes me whether or not this host was human or animal. i'm thinking it was a human, as he (not she) spoke to me in standard american english. i was also surrounded by a grey and white kitten and what i remember to be a rabbit who told me he (yes, he) rode bulls. i do believe the kitten represents the non-verbal communication of love as i was asked to mimic its actions, which of course consisted of nuzzling against me, the host, and the rabbit, whilst purring. the rabbit, who happened to also speak standard american english, told me the hardest challenges he endured in his lifetime was riding bulls. i think this is linked, metaphorically, to the challenges we all have in life (juxtaposed, of course, to what i will now refer to as the "kitten" experience we all long for when faced with tough challenges). the rabbit suggested to me that another good outlet to the feeling associated with being challenged (frustration) is to dance it off. i remember in my dream i closed my eyes and wriggled to a the beat of deep sadness i seem to hold in my heart in my conscious life.
after the lectures, the dancing, and the nuzzling (it happened in this order) my host was about to tell me it was "time to go." i told him i was aware of what was happening (although i am positive he, nor the others, were trying to be tricksy) , even though i did not want to go through with it.
he opened the door to the "outside" world, which of course offered its light to the darkness of the vestibule. i remember i asked my host if it was okay to be scared. he replied that it was perfectly okay to be scared, but assured me there was nothing to be afraid of. i asked him if i would have just as many friends on the other side, to which he replied "of course. you will have as many friends as you need."
before i walked through the threshold, i woke up (crying).
Sunday, March 18, 2007
two excellent movies.
i recommend the following:
brick
and
half nelson
Monday, March 12, 2007
built by wendy.
wendy mullin i love your clothes, but why so pricey? design a line for target.
my wallet hates you wendy.
---------
the tale of the winter piglet. i cannot stop eating. even when i am not hungry i still eat. i dream of ice cream while i eat cookies. of bagels when i eat muffins. food is all i want. all. the. time.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
target and clothes.
when i moved to new york city, four years ago, i discovered the glory of target. i became an avid disciple--namely, for clothes. to this day i still get most of my clothes from target. i am extremely tickled by the the design for all program they have implemented. i have loved all the go designers, save for maybe two (the past winter season selection was disgusting).
i am so happy that proenza schouler is designing affordable (super cheap prices, but great quality) clothes for target. my only issue with them is the season they have chosen to design for. all the vibrant colors make me want to die (save for the purple pencil skirt)--i only wished they designed for the fall season. their fall clothing is amazing (proenza schouler fall 2005)
Saturday, February 10, 2007
mark strand poem
"Coming To This"
We have done what we wanted.
We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry
of each other, and we have welcomed grief
and called ruin the impossible habit to break.
And now we are here.
The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.
The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.
The wine waits.
Coming to this
has its rewards: nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.
We have no heart or saving grace,
no place to go, no reason to remain.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
dog babies and homework.
i was on the couch last night. jacob was doing his homework and i said:
"tyler would be the worst mommy. she'd probably eat her kids."
tyler will never have babies, unless by miracle, which made me sort of sad. maybe she would be a good mother? but, i'm still convinced she'd mouth atleast one of them.
----------
i'm so hungry i could eat ten biggy iggy ice cream sandwiches from stewart's.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Naps.
I haven't been taking them as much as my body yearns for them.
I take them when I am tired.
I take them when I am depressed because I'd rather sleep than tap into hatred.
I take them when I long for company when Jacob is not around. Tyler is warm and snores like Jacob too.
---------
On another note altogether, why do people seem sketchy? Maybe I am paranoid.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
also, a poem rather, an excerpt:
what are words, i want to ask you, what
is clarity and why do words keep burning
a century later, though the earth
weighs so much?
from "a talk with friedrich nietzsche" by adam zagajewski.
--------
antigone. i'm going to watch this movie in the absence of my other half. then i will gouge my eyes out in reverence.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
My Chelsea students...
I just want to say these things: I miss you all (even the ones who drove me nuts--you know who you are) and I am proud of you all. Class of 2008, you are the best group of young adults, ever.
Friday, December 29, 2006
shaking hands with a genius.
i went to applebee's and had kettle (tavern) chips smothered with cheese and bacon. i wish i invented this dish.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
my heart attack.
salmon wrapped in bacon topped with cheese. best. dinner. ever.
atleast today ended on a good note. this weekend was abysmal.
--------
for mary... your profile makes my computer freeze:
[insert absent image of dancing robot]
Saturday, December 09, 2006
friend.
you know, it has been about seven years since i had a good best friend. i had natasha, but after college we grew apart and now she lives in scotland with her husband and dog. i became close with nikki in brooklyn as we lived together, briefly, and co-taught together for two years at chelsea. and here i am, in this bleak town and i feel pretty lonely. maybe that is why i liked living in new york: i was always too busy to be lonely. here i have more time on my hands than i can actually deal with and i find myself sleeping a good chunk of it away because i'm so blah (minus the time spent with jacob).
Saturday, December 02, 2006
esouh.
i want to puke all over myself.
Monday, November 27, 2006
crap carp prac parc arcp
Last night I zoned out during the shittiest movie ever, "The DaVinci Code," and for moments I truly thought I was a clairvoyant, as I seemed to see clearly into my doomy future where I only wore sweatpants, ate noodles with butter, and lamented to Jacob that shampoo and soap should be separate showering entities and or luxuries.
This house shit has my brain on the fritz and I wonder if we can really do this without going stark-raving loonie. I think to myself: "I have to do this; I am twenty seven. I have no babies, I cannot rent forever..I am an adult, right?"
What if I had stayed in Brooklyn? What would it have been like? The traveling would tear us apart. Now that I am here will our obsessive-compulsive, fixative habits make us want to bounce off each other like walking padded rooms, or will we just stick together like glue and have our insecurities co-mingle in an emotional tick-oriented bliss?
I can speculate about what it would have been like to have stayed in Brooklyn, but what I have learned is that love is worth more than a twelve-grand pay cut and feeling severely uncomfortable, socially, in this insular town--it is transcendent.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I should have stayed in Brooklyn.
Sometimes I think this.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Slang.
One thing I miss about being in the city is slang. Someone used the phrase dead-ass in class the other day (in an awkward manner no less--it sounded less like one huffy fast deadass and more like dead-pause-pause-pause-asssssss) and I felt like telling him that phrase is so beat these days. But how would he know? What is hip here was hip more than two years ago down there. I don't even want to get into music or the style of clothes.
Yes, I used the word hip. Shut up.
Friday, October 27, 2006
On Walking Dogs.
Current mood: annoyed
Currently listening: Mule Variations
By: Tom Waits
Release date: 27 April, 1999
Walking dogs should be done, always, with leashes. Aside from my roommates' dog that happens to be the most docile and oblivious dog I know to date, all dogs should be walked with a leash. I will even say that any dog walker walking a dog without a leash is full-fledged moron. My case in point: yesterday afternoon, after arriving at my apartment to pick up some things for a night of grading at JV's while he was in class, I witnessed a small dog (a size-challenged breed I personally abhor) being attacked by to unleashed dogs. If it wasn't bad enough watching a small dog being mauled by some feral-looking, hick-bred dog, compound this image with a wire-hanger abortion scream coming from a young girl still holding onto the leash of her small dog. Then to add to the chaotic cacophony of hell-hound barks and anti-orgasmic screams, picture the potential hick-breeder, but most certainly hick-owner, of these ravenous, feral-looking dogs yelling out commands and kicking about like a Nazi war solider, all of which the dogs did not respond to. I mean, I will admit it: I hate small dogs. There is no room in our Darwinist society for small dogs, but they do exist, sadly, and they should have at least the minimal right to be walked around in a safe environment by owners who should wear no fear against unleashed animals. There is also no room in our Darwinist society for morons, especially those specific types of morons who own dogs and choose not to walk them on leashes. Sadly, these morons exist and I have no solution to remedy the error of their moronic ways, but I sure hope someone does and perhaps their fate will be in the form of some Hades-like Malebolge that awaits them in after-life.
twelve.
Sunday, June 25th, 2006
Subject: tyler.
Time: 10:34 am.
tyler is the most excellent travel mate. she doesn't even need to stop to use the restroom on a five hour trip (it takes five hours on friday afternoons, go figure). she nevers asks "are we there yet?" she has been traveling with me for the last four to five weekends in a row and i must say she has adjusted well in her new environments. she loves running around like a chicken with his or her head cut off when we visit my mum (who happens to live in the boonies with a ton of acreage). she adjusted well when staying with jacob when nikki's kitchen ceiling decided to leak (more like a biblical deluge). she liked forty seven south kingsboro, but my roommates and i did not, but i'm sure she will love litauer place as it has a backyard too.
i've been wrestling with the idea of leaving new york for good, which has everything to do with my salary increase and potential to save more money here in new york city rather than there, upstate. pay is poor in upstate, even with a masters. some areas do pay well and it is those areas which i will be calling this week to check in regarding my resume and for interviews.
if i stay here in brooklyn i sacrifice my sanity to certain degrees at the expense of amassing my income for a move the following year.
why do i want to move back upstate? general peace of mind, my mother, a house, aunt duties, tyler, new and old friends, teaching kids who want to learn (socio-ecomomics are the same, cultural diversity is not), a certain ten year reunion (not what you are thinking, yes, i'm being cryptic).
why should i stay here? job stability, tenure, ten grand pay increase, teaching what i want (i think they are bribing me), friends.
i'm leaving this thursday. i'll be back here and there throughout the summer to visit.
Friday, June 23rd, 2006
Time: 7:22 am.
+job interview
-poor pay
+donated hair
-no ponytails
+new summer rental
-old slumlords in bleeker
there are more good things to list than bad, but because my ocd is symmetrical i cannot continue this list.
Wednesday, April 19th, 2006
Subject: sometimes...
Time: 7:14 pm.
quiet people get loud. sad.
Wednesday, December 7th, 2005
Time: 5:51 pm.
bitter cold days make me yearn for long naps.
Sunday, November 13th, 2005
Subject: erica, wait and see what the vet says, your not a doctor
Time: 9:18 am.
so, boxers are prone to vaginitis, for a myriad of reasons. tyler had a bout with vaginitis after her spay surgery, as a result of a possible mild infection, or a reaction to foreign objects within her body (dissolvable sutures).
tyler has had great difficulty with healing properly from her spay surgery, as the sutures are not dissolving as they should (for some dogs, not just tyler, some sutures never dissolve and need to be removed). one month ago a blister developed on tyler's spay incision site and the vet popped the blister with a needle and removed, with her fingers, several sutures.
now, it looks as if tyler is on the verge of developing another blister, atop of a knotty area (scar tissue, hematoma whatever) on her incision site, and we are taking her to the vet, again, to see what's up.
i believe she has an infection, as her vaginitis has returned. for the last two weeks tyler will wake in the middle of the night to lick her hind end and the sheets to which her hind end discharged some liquids. and the presence of a strong ammonia scent exists. and i notice the presence, during the day, of a greenish-whitish goo on her female bits :(
with vaginitis can come incontinence. licking her rear and then cleaning her groin area might have caused a mild rash in her groin. and i wonder if this rash is a urine scald.
i'll kept you posted (did you want to gag a few times?)!
love,
dr. mom
Friday, November 11th, 2005
Subject: hi.
Time: 1:57 pm.
today, i have off.
and i'm sitting around with tired tyler. with dirty hair and yankees hat. in four days i will be twenty-six. i'm unhappy, still, with my place of employment. and as i tyed that previous sentence i felt my jaw clench, teeth grind.
i'm reading this young adult text, crank. it is very interesting.
i bought my dog therasticks with st. john's wort and i would like them to arrive so i can try one. as i feel a need to gnaw and chew to soothe.
twenty six! where does the time go :(
also, lately, i yearn for bologna sandwiches with yellow mustard.
help me find the origin of my last name, would you?
i miss some of you.
Sunday, October 16th, 2005
Subject: i have a new i book.
Time: 9:01 am.
it's nice to travel about the house again with a little companion. i fear tyler jumping about it, so i've been walking around cradling the white mass like a newborn.
so i'm pretty excited about the new depeche mode. shut up.
also i secretly like david gray. any comments from the peanut gallery?
i have to think about what i'm going to do next year, because at this point i want to quit. maybe i just need to teach at a different school?
this summer, though, i'm going to participate in another theatre intensive and i WILL get some headshots done (how many times have i said this?).
over and out for now lovies <3.
Saturday, October 15th, 2005
Subject: :(
Time: 9:39 am.
Pure Nerd
65 % Nerd, 47% Geek, 47% Dork
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.
The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.
Congratulations!
Tuesday, September 27th, 2005
Subject: i hate.
Time: 4:40 pm.
people who feel that they are the object of prejudice, who are prejudiced (and project it loud and clear) too.
Monday, August 22nd, 2005
Subject: I HAVE A NEW DOG.
Time: 10:05 pm.
FYI.
SHE LIKES TO DROP THE HOT PRETZEL FOUR TIMES A DAY.
Sunday, July 31st, 2005
Subject: i hate philosophy.
Time: 6:09 pm.
because of the logic and illogic.
Sunday, July 17th, 2005
Subject: i have been at my mum's since wednesday.
Time: 10:44 pm.
and i'm leaving tomorrow. i have had a pleasant and relaxing time. with her. and loki. and allen's dog andre. loki was very protective of me the entire time, and jealous of andre as well. it only makes me want a dog more. there is nothing better than running around with dogs on summer days, and lounging on carpeted floors watching the news on a dog's back as a pillow.
my mum says to me : "erica, if you get a dog, how will you travel?"
good question. i need to research amtrak policies for transporting animals.
i really didn't do much other than relax, write papers, and take in clean upstate (humid) air. i will miss it when i leave tomorrow--but i have someone i need to come home to.
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005
Time: 2:03 pm.
meat cleaver and peach trees.
and a new old bike!
Sunday, July 3rd, 2005
Subject: oh, some things.
Time: 7:22 am.
I have a friend by the name of Carlo. My mother fondly refers to him as Carlos. Every time I hear that s, I grow a new white hair. I know she is not trying to offer any disrespect to Carlo’s name, she just has a penchant to pluralize nouns. For example Wal-Mart becomes Wal-Marts and Hannaford becomes Hannafords (it is a supermarket upstate).
I thought about how she does this and decided that maybe she is right: singular nouns are useless in most cases; nouns are much better when there are more than one. For example cake should not be cake. It should be cakes (who doesn’t like more than one cake…I’ll fight anyone with one leg and arm tied behind my back).
Here is a running list of nouns that should be permanently pluralized (more to come):
Cheeses
Puppies
Unicorns
Blue Cheese Dressings
Naps
Thursday, June 30th, 2005
Subject: summer of fun.
Time: 9:05 pm.
i am so going to win at life at pete's candy store and matchless this summer.
join me.
Sunday, June 26th, 2005
Subject: o! i am a girl.
Time: 9:27 am.
i have two more days of work.
list:
house.
a dog like roxy or lilly.
wardrobe exclusively jessica ogden.
field hockey club.
running.
biking.
louie g's everyday.
a new hair style.
Monday, June 13th, 2005
Subject: will i love laundry service?
Time: 9:54 pm.
i will tell you when i get the bill!
Sunday, May 29th, 2005
Time: 8:04 pm.
what are you doing up, human league?
Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
Subject: i'm watching bruce.
Time: 8:46 pm.
that pink pool of a rug with hair and crumbs swimming about. laying in starchy shorts with dry knees and elbows, t-shirt, bad hair cut, age ten, mute to most anything except for the occasional conversation with myself, in front of a hand-me-down stereo system with two tape decks, one for playing, the other recording, staring at these black tapes.
bruce springsteen live, 1985? 1989?
muffled masculine voice similar to my father's (not his singing voice, because he could carry a tune like i can carry a two hundred pound man) coming through the old speakers. muffled because the tape is worn, without a cover (for ages?), muffled by cries from the crowd.
and i've been watching bruce on vh1 classics for the last four hours. i just bought his new compact disc. and i can only think of my father.
Sunday, April 24th, 2005
Subject: school has made me.
Time: 2:40 pm.
serious(ly).
[insert erased flickr image of me with a serious face]
hungry.
[insert erased flickr image of adam and i in a subway station]
Subject: tyler.
Time: 10:34 am.
tyler is the most excellent travel mate. she doesn't even need to stop to use the restroom on a five hour trip (it takes five hours on friday afternoons, go figure). she nevers asks "are we there yet?" she has been traveling with me for the last four to five weekends in a row and i must say she has adjusted well in her new environments. she loves running around like a chicken with his or her head cut off when we visit my mum (who happens to live in the boonies with a ton of acreage). she adjusted well when staying with jacob when nikki's kitchen ceiling decided to leak (more like a biblical deluge). she liked forty seven south kingsboro, but my roommates and i did not, but i'm sure she will love litauer place as it has a backyard too.
i've been wrestling with the idea of leaving new york for good, which has everything to do with my salary increase and potential to save more money here in new york city rather than there, upstate. pay is poor in upstate, even with a masters. some areas do pay well and it is those areas which i will be calling this week to check in regarding my resume and for interviews.
if i stay here in brooklyn i sacrifice my sanity to certain degrees at the expense of amassing my income for a move the following year.
why do i want to move back upstate? general peace of mind, my mother, a house, aunt duties, tyler, new and old friends, teaching kids who want to learn (socio-ecomomics are the same, cultural diversity is not), a certain ten year reunion (not what you are thinking, yes, i'm being cryptic).
why should i stay here? job stability, tenure, ten grand pay increase, teaching what i want (i think they are bribing me), friends.
i'm leaving this thursday. i'll be back here and there throughout the summer to visit.
Friday, June 23rd, 2006
Time: 7:22 am.
+job interview
-poor pay
+donated hair
-no ponytails
+new summer rental
-old slumlords in bleeker
there are more good things to list than bad, but because my ocd is symmetrical i cannot continue this list.
Wednesday, April 19th, 2006
Subject: sometimes...
Time: 7:14 pm.
quiet people get loud. sad.
Wednesday, December 7th, 2005
Time: 5:51 pm.
bitter cold days make me yearn for long naps.
Sunday, November 13th, 2005
Subject: erica, wait and see what the vet says, your not a doctor
Time: 9:18 am.
so, boxers are prone to vaginitis, for a myriad of reasons. tyler had a bout with vaginitis after her spay surgery, as a result of a possible mild infection, or a reaction to foreign objects within her body (dissolvable sutures).
tyler has had great difficulty with healing properly from her spay surgery, as the sutures are not dissolving as they should (for some dogs, not just tyler, some sutures never dissolve and need to be removed). one month ago a blister developed on tyler's spay incision site and the vet popped the blister with a needle and removed, with her fingers, several sutures.
now, it looks as if tyler is on the verge of developing another blister, atop of a knotty area (scar tissue, hematoma whatever) on her incision site, and we are taking her to the vet, again, to see what's up.
i believe she has an infection, as her vaginitis has returned. for the last two weeks tyler will wake in the middle of the night to lick her hind end and the sheets to which her hind end discharged some liquids. and the presence of a strong ammonia scent exists. and i notice the presence, during the day, of a greenish-whitish goo on her female bits :(
with vaginitis can come incontinence. licking her rear and then cleaning her groin area might have caused a mild rash in her groin. and i wonder if this rash is a urine scald.
i'll kept you posted (did you want to gag a few times?)!
love,
dr. mom
Friday, November 11th, 2005
Subject: hi.
Time: 1:57 pm.
today, i have off.
and i'm sitting around with tired tyler. with dirty hair and yankees hat. in four days i will be twenty-six. i'm unhappy, still, with my place of employment. and as i tyed that previous sentence i felt my jaw clench, teeth grind.
i'm reading this young adult text, crank. it is very interesting.
i bought my dog therasticks with st. john's wort and i would like them to arrive so i can try one. as i feel a need to gnaw and chew to soothe.
twenty six! where does the time go :(
also, lately, i yearn for bologna sandwiches with yellow mustard.
help me find the origin of my last name, would you?
i miss some of you.
Sunday, October 16th, 2005
Subject: i have a new i book.
Time: 9:01 am.
it's nice to travel about the house again with a little companion. i fear tyler jumping about it, so i've been walking around cradling the white mass like a newborn.
so i'm pretty excited about the new depeche mode. shut up.
also i secretly like david gray. any comments from the peanut gallery?
i have to think about what i'm going to do next year, because at this point i want to quit. maybe i just need to teach at a different school?
this summer, though, i'm going to participate in another theatre intensive and i WILL get some headshots done (how many times have i said this?).
over and out for now lovies <3.
Saturday, October 15th, 2005
Subject: :(
Time: 9:39 am.
Pure Nerd
65 % Nerd, 47% Geek, 47% Dork
For The Record:
A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.
A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.
A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.
You scored better than half in Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd.
The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful.
Congratulations!
Tuesday, September 27th, 2005
Subject: i hate.
Time: 4:40 pm.
people who feel that they are the object of prejudice, who are prejudiced (and project it loud and clear) too.
Monday, August 22nd, 2005
Subject: I HAVE A NEW DOG.
Time: 10:05 pm.
FYI.
SHE LIKES TO DROP THE HOT PRETZEL FOUR TIMES A DAY.
Sunday, July 31st, 2005
Subject: i hate philosophy.
Time: 6:09 pm.
because of the logic and illogic.
Sunday, July 17th, 2005
Subject: i have been at my mum's since wednesday.
Time: 10:44 pm.
and i'm leaving tomorrow. i have had a pleasant and relaxing time. with her. and loki. and allen's dog andre. loki was very protective of me the entire time, and jealous of andre as well. it only makes me want a dog more. there is nothing better than running around with dogs on summer days, and lounging on carpeted floors watching the news on a dog's back as a pillow.
my mum says to me : "erica, if you get a dog, how will you travel?"
good question. i need to research amtrak policies for transporting animals.
i really didn't do much other than relax, write papers, and take in clean upstate (humid) air. i will miss it when i leave tomorrow--but i have someone i need to come home to.
Tuesday, July 12th, 2005
Time: 2:03 pm.
meat cleaver and peach trees.
and a new old bike!
Sunday, July 3rd, 2005
Subject: oh, some things.
Time: 7:22 am.
I have a friend by the name of Carlo. My mother fondly refers to him as Carlos. Every time I hear that s, I grow a new white hair. I know she is not trying to offer any disrespect to Carlo’s name, she just has a penchant to pluralize nouns. For example Wal-Mart becomes Wal-Marts and Hannaford becomes Hannafords (it is a supermarket upstate).
I thought about how she does this and decided that maybe she is right: singular nouns are useless in most cases; nouns are much better when there are more than one. For example cake should not be cake. It should be cakes (who doesn’t like more than one cake…I’ll fight anyone with one leg and arm tied behind my back).
Here is a running list of nouns that should be permanently pluralized (more to come):
Cheeses
Puppies
Unicorns
Blue Cheese Dressings
Naps
Thursday, June 30th, 2005
Subject: summer of fun.
Time: 9:05 pm.
i am so going to win at life at pete's candy store and matchless this summer.
join me.
Sunday, June 26th, 2005
Subject: o! i am a girl.
Time: 9:27 am.
i have two more days of work.
list:
house.
a dog like roxy or lilly.
wardrobe exclusively jessica ogden.
field hockey club.
running.
biking.
louie g's everyday.
a new hair style.
Monday, June 13th, 2005
Subject: will i love laundry service?
Time: 9:54 pm.
i will tell you when i get the bill!
Sunday, May 29th, 2005
Time: 8:04 pm.
what are you doing up, human league?
Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
Subject: i'm watching bruce.
Time: 8:46 pm.
that pink pool of a rug with hair and crumbs swimming about. laying in starchy shorts with dry knees and elbows, t-shirt, bad hair cut, age ten, mute to most anything except for the occasional conversation with myself, in front of a hand-me-down stereo system with two tape decks, one for playing, the other recording, staring at these black tapes.
bruce springsteen live, 1985? 1989?
muffled masculine voice similar to my father's (not his singing voice, because he could carry a tune like i can carry a two hundred pound man) coming through the old speakers. muffled because the tape is worn, without a cover (for ages?), muffled by cries from the crowd.
and i've been watching bruce on vh1 classics for the last four hours. i just bought his new compact disc. and i can only think of my father.
Sunday, April 24th, 2005
Subject: school has made me.
Time: 2:40 pm.
serious(ly).
[insert erased flickr image of me with a serious face]
hungry.
[insert erased flickr image of adam and i in a subway station]
nine.
Monday, September 20th, 2004
Subject: hi. monday.
Time: 7:47 pm.
Mood: again. tired.
Music: cat power. in this hole.
no matter how relaxing. how long. how refreshing the weekend was. i'm tired all over again. it might have something to do with the one hundred and twenty minutes of professional development with the academy. which left me crawling to the train with a twenty pound back pack during rush hour. also. i didn't eat lunch. smart move erica.
Saturday, September 18th, 2004
Subject: this e-mail sums it up. sorry if you see it twice.
Time: 2:46 pm.
Music: tara jane o'neil. without push.
dear sir,
it's been insane. in the best way. i love it all. i feel no stress. maybe sometime soon, but the first week was lovely. better than i ever expected.
it makes me want to be thirteen instead of forty-five.
how are you?
you know, i could do without the graduate class though.
teachers are nuts. and they are heavy drinkers. i, though, am not.
what else?
nothing too new. and you sir, how are you?
regards,
erica
Subject: he said.
Time: 1:53 pm.
would you be friends with me if my teeth were shaped like little penises?
Wednesday, September 15th, 2004
Subject: holy smokes.
Time: 6:57 pm.
Mood: accomplished.
Music: matt pond pa. grave's disease.
the shit hit the fan today. i was so amped to get the day started, riding off the previous days' energy and general well-being of my classes.
then i had advisory with another teacher and her advisory class. since we lack room, it looks like we'll be sharing the classroom all year. which is nice. i like the idea of team teaching. my problem is: advisory. what is it? seriously. soho art academy was created about two weeks before school started. chelsea high school had to accommodate about one hundred and fifty extra students that could not, to my knowledge, fit within the other existing academies without going over the classroom cap limit (all assumptions, of course) so the soho art academy was created. and within the small academy we were blessed with advisory, which a lot of small schools and academies are dealing with too. we've had no training for the advisory program and we are piggy-backing off of the other academies and their loose curriculum plan through december. advisory has the potential to be brilliant. really. the kids could learn a vast amount whilst receiving their health credit as well. but as i see it, our academy has no game plan--and in a week, the kids will see right through advisory, and mark that forty-two minute period as a joke. we sketched faces during that period, and wrote about it (hi, art fusion).
and then i had my block period -----. holy crap. this class holds another team teaching opportunity, which is new to chelsea high school. i love it. i think, two brains are better than one. i team teach with a special education teacher (known as master teacher? or that crazy lady that follows them around all day to all of their classes?--they don't know she's the special education teacher, which is rad). well, she is there because that class is an inclusion class, where half of the students need differentiated learning. but, i learned today, that she is not much of a disciplinarian. she has a different patience than i. i asked her about her method of discipline--she simply stated that the class hasn't pushed her buttons yet, that they aren't misbehaving, they are getting to know each other, and that usually causes extraneous classroom activity that delineates from the learning environment. she told me that she does have a temper, and will discipline when needed (she gave me the example of her disciplining method in her old school when kids would throw books and relieve themselves in the classroom waste basket. i thought, do i have to for those types of circumstances to discipline?! what? no way). well any way, i became the bad guy during that period. raising my voice several times to remind them of the respect that needs to be going on in the classroom. it was the most awful feeling. to stand there and discipline, while the other teacher just watched.
i felt miserable for a good chunk of the day. no one wants to be the bad guy.
block nine and ten. they are brilliant. they made my seemingly awful day much better.
i have the first week under my belt. everyday will be like the third day of school, filled with positives and negatives galore. i'm glad we have a four day weekend. i need to re-group.
Tuesday, September 14th, 2004
Subject: tuesday.
Time: 3:37 pm.
Music: the flaming lips. the strange design of conscience.
okay. another day under my belt. today went surprisingly well too. i share a classroom with mr. cerny (not sear-knee, but cheer-knee, it means black in polish, so says he). we feel comfortable enough to stay in the room while the other teaches. it's weird. but a nice weird. i'm glad that i get to observe another fellow (peace corp, not teaching) and their teaching method. i've learned that he says please too much. he asks me: "erica, what do you think i can do better as far as class management?" i say: "don't say please--don't give them a choice within your rules. be more declarative. don't say 'please be quiet.' say, 'you need to be quiet,' or just plain old 'be quiet.'" he does a great job of constantly referencing his classroom rule of respect though. we'll both have to do a lot of reminding.
i learned today that my kids, through their journaling, that they think i'm strict. but sort of fun. i'm walking that line. i like that line. i like that they think i'm strict. and in "fun", i hope they mean that i'm not too out of touch. because really, i'm not. i like a lot of the same things they do, as far as music and fashion, but i won't let them know for a while.
the lesson planning process has been interesting. i've already found that i'm utterly exhausted by the time i get home (and chances are i'll be going to bed a few hours from now) so i will have to find the best time for me to lesson plan--most likely the weekends, and the wee hours of the morning. i am not opposed to the idea of getting up at four in the morning. i like that alone time. the stillness of the morning. the first cigarette and sip of coffee. it's like i'll have this secret life.
Monday, September 13th, 2004
Subject: monday, sweet monday.
Time: 4:23 pm.
Mood: tired.
Music: my morning jacket. how do you know.
i made it through my first day. i battled through rough sunday sleep. and monday morning stomach flips. through the roller coaster subway ride that made any and everything that was in my stomach (four cups of coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter) travel to my esophagus. adam traveled to school with me at seven thirty in the morning. it felt like kindergarten again. but instead of the multi-colored visor with the flashing lights, a father with a matching one, and the tears, there was adam, two twenty pound bags, and nagging nausea.
he dropped me off and i said "do not kiss me in front of the school, that is big no no." who the hell says "no no"? seriously, "no no"? i had just had a patti moment (my mother).
school was amazing. the kids, amazing, petrified, but amazing. i was strict. i was covered in chalk by three thirty, well, ten thirty, to be honest. i wanted to shout a big fuck you to the world at the end of the day, to the people that told me that it would be difficult, terrible, miserable, especially for a new teacher. by the end of the chelsea professional development days a week before, i pretty much disliked the entire faculty, sans those who didn't feel the need to coddle or patronize. i made it through monday. i made it through monday! i feel on the top of the world.
but really, i know that everyday will be a monday, well maybe everyday will be like the second or third day of school. it will be like one of my most favorite movies with bill murray, groundhog day (even as an english teacher i don't know if i underline that movie title or italicize it, and in any and all cases i'm not sure how to do it in livejournal, i haven't done enough research or writing in this thing to even know).
this is going to be the best experience ever.
Sunday, September 5th, 2004
Time: 3:02 pm.
rikki tikki tavi!
Friday, September 3rd, 2004
Subject: past tense present tense. tense tense tense.
Time: 7:30 pm.
i'm kickin it in my swim trunks and brown top. the same brown top i've been wearing for the last three days. i'm alone. and it's okay. i'm not feeling lonely. just sort of nostalgic i guess.
there are days when i forget why i am here. in this apartment. with this new job. this new new new everything. sometimes it feels like the same old same old. and it's not. things a way different than they were from a year and a half ago. a year ago. six months ago.
and to think i came to this place with one bag on my back and no job. and here i am. in this apartment your grandmother would kill for. and in four days i'll be stomping around chelsea vocational high school. and i should be lesson planning, but i'm too caught up in "this". if i really want to get into it, i should have started lesson planning weeks ago. but i, alas, am a procrastinator. back to change.
really. i rent an apartment with a crime partner (fuck richie), i will have some insane health insurance starting september seventh.
_____
things sometimes feel the same. and it's the parts of me that haven't changed. i will always love others more than i will love myself. i will always have a no for all the yes.
______
i want other more memories. these are great, yes, so fantastic, that i yearn for more. what is it that i do that turn people away? why am i so afraid of people? why do want friends when i'm so afraid of people? i want friends. but i've built a flaky bridge so it seems.
well, anyways i want these memories so i can joke around with my friends on the back porch drinking beer and grilling burgers and reflect on the fun that was had.
Thursday, August 26th, 2004
Time: 7:47 pm.
to start collecting unicorn earrings.
also, workshop my play or shop it around to be produced.
Tuesday, August 24th, 2004
Subject: wings.
Time: 9:26 am.
i want them. you do to. maybe some of you pretty boys and girls will come with me tomorrow. at croxley's.
Monday, August 23rd, 2004
Subject: i'm excited.
Time: 6:28 pm.
about going to built by wendy tomorrow to look at the new wrangler collection i cannot afford.
i will try on jeans. find the right size. and pray someone purchases them and sells them on ebay on the cheaps.
Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
Subject: really.
Time: 11:53 am.
i have no friends.
be my friend.
Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
Time: 2:34 pm.
bay ridge is amazing. fruit stands. and clean streets. flavor. wicked monk. townies. and i'm sure sugar free sweets are buried somewhere on fifth avenue.
Sunday, August 15th, 2004
Time: 9:27 am.
i'm sorry.
Friday, August 13th, 2004
Subject: for me.
Time: 5:06 pm.
To feel a sequence of raised bumps that erupt with fine blonde hairs on thighs that belong to someone else. This is what my fingers want.
__________
And I cannot decipher whether or not I want to be in her or be her.
___
I see so many beautiful things: my brain cannot synthesize these images, so fine and vibrant, into words on paper.
Why?
Concrete fissures filled with tanned kernels.
Olive green olives that burst with jalapeño fire in my mouth.
______
So many shoes! So many! On subway rides I picture these shoes melting, onto the speckled variants of blues and whites on sheets of black linoleum floors of train cars, into a sea of red ants. Red ants flooding from Air Trainer Ones and muddied tan boots and soft-soled beaded moccasins.
And I eventually I drown in red ants.
Before I suffocate, I feel light legs of partitioned bodies on my skin—in holes where no thing except for air has traveled. Swallowing, as I grasp for air, fragmented groupings of tiny red bodies lump in the back of my throat.
___________________________________________
Something sits in my stomach so sad as I travel back home to Greenwood Heights. Fuck it. I’ve been carrying this weight for days. I swallow as I breathe and I feel the air, having traveled (down the wrong pipe, as my mother would say) from mouth to stomach, surrounding this amorphous glob, suffocating this weighty sadness until I am nauseous and wriggle with discomfort and gag from its blanketing intrusion.
What is down there?
I’ve taken five fiber pills every night for the last three nights, deviating from my three every-other-day routine. I’ve consumed one extra cup of sweet coffee in the following three mornings. I’m hoping to push this weight out in the thick-aired August mornings and flush it to Paris (my plumber is from Avignon and harbors this hatred for Paris. He says it is politics. I think he abhors the city for its flowery odors).
I ponder milk-chocolate flavored laxatives for dinner.
Thursday, August 5th, 2004
Subject: why don't i love you enough, journal.
Time: 9:54 pm.
i ignore you. but i do love you. somewhere deep in the warm nooks of my bowels, the love is there.
i'm almost finished with my summer session at pace. and next monday i start a week-long literacy training session. and then. a break. a time to relax, for a hot second. and then re-group. organize. erica remember the teacher's wish-list section of craig's list and donor's choose dot org.
i'd like to build a classroom environment for my little birds. since i will be hanging with them for ninety minutes a day i'd like some rugs and throw pillows and some crazy lamps. hi, donations. ramp-up shoves about two thousand books down your throat in the first two weeks, but i'm going to thrift and beg for more. if you have any you want to get rid of, throw them my way.
i'm going to start a blog for teaching. not on livejournal. can anyone suggest a good free lovely blogging site?
me mum is coming tomorrow to visit the place. she hasn't been to new york since i've moved. i'm very excited. and she is too. hand towels and kitchen supplies and bookcases and tools and pillows and storage units and loki hair to make this new place feel occupied.
i've taken to writing again. it's my secret that i am letting out.
Sunday, July 18th, 2004
Subject: Greenwood Heights.
Time: 5:47 pm.
I think we have it. We have it. But in saying that, I feel like I’m going to fuck it up. My glass isn’t half full nor is it half empty. It’s just empty. Why. We got it. I need to stop thinking about it. We will get the fax. And it will be over.
Saturday, July 17th, 2004
Time: 9:16 am.
theresa and andy are getting married today.
Friday, July 16th, 2004
Time: 9:47 pm.
i pulled into nazareth, was feeling about half past dead.
i just need some place where i can lay my head.
"hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?"
he just grinned and shook my hand, and "no" was all he said.
picked up my bag, went looking for a place to hide.
when i saw carmen and the devil walkin' side by side
i said: "hey, carmen, come on, let's go downtown."
she said: "i gotta go, but m'friend can stick around."
go down, miss moses, there's nothing you can say.
it's just old luke, and luke's waitin' on the judgement day.
"well luke, my friend, what about young anna lee?"
he said: "do me a favour, son, won't you stay an' keep anna lee company?"
crazy chester followed me, and he caught me in the fog.
he said: "i will fix your rack, if you'll take jack, my dog"
i said: "wait a minute, chester, i'm a peaceful man"
he said: "that's ok, just feed him when you can"
catch a cannon ball now, to take me down the line.
my bag is sinking low and i do believe it's time
to get back to miss fanny, you know she's the only one
who sent me here with her regards for everyone.
take a load off fanny.
take a load for free.
take a load off fanny,
and you can put the load right on me.
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004
Time: 7:03 am.
when did i become a morning person?
Subject: hi. monday.
Time: 7:47 pm.
Mood: again. tired.
Music: cat power. in this hole.
no matter how relaxing. how long. how refreshing the weekend was. i'm tired all over again. it might have something to do with the one hundred and twenty minutes of professional development with the academy. which left me crawling to the train with a twenty pound back pack during rush hour. also. i didn't eat lunch. smart move erica.
Saturday, September 18th, 2004
Subject: this e-mail sums it up. sorry if you see it twice.
Time: 2:46 pm.
Music: tara jane o'neil. without push.
dear sir,
it's been insane. in the best way. i love it all. i feel no stress. maybe sometime soon, but the first week was lovely. better than i ever expected.
it makes me want to be thirteen instead of forty-five.
how are you?
you know, i could do without the graduate class though.
teachers are nuts. and they are heavy drinkers. i, though, am not.
what else?
nothing too new. and you sir, how are you?
regards,
erica
Subject: he said.
Time: 1:53 pm.
would you be friends with me if my teeth were shaped like little penises?
Wednesday, September 15th, 2004
Subject: holy smokes.
Time: 6:57 pm.
Mood: accomplished.
Music: matt pond pa. grave's disease.
the shit hit the fan today. i was so amped to get the day started, riding off the previous days' energy and general well-being of my classes.
then i had advisory with another teacher and her advisory class. since we lack room, it looks like we'll be sharing the classroom all year. which is nice. i like the idea of team teaching. my problem is: advisory. what is it? seriously. soho art academy was created about two weeks before school started. chelsea high school had to accommodate about one hundred and fifty extra students that could not, to my knowledge, fit within the other existing academies without going over the classroom cap limit (all assumptions, of course) so the soho art academy was created. and within the small academy we were blessed with advisory, which a lot of small schools and academies are dealing with too. we've had no training for the advisory program and we are piggy-backing off of the other academies and their loose curriculum plan through december. advisory has the potential to be brilliant. really. the kids could learn a vast amount whilst receiving their health credit as well. but as i see it, our academy has no game plan--and in a week, the kids will see right through advisory, and mark that forty-two minute period as a joke. we sketched faces during that period, and wrote about it (hi, art fusion).
and then i had my block period -----. holy crap. this class holds another team teaching opportunity, which is new to chelsea high school. i love it. i think, two brains are better than one. i team teach with a special education teacher (known as master teacher? or that crazy lady that follows them around all day to all of their classes?--they don't know she's the special education teacher, which is rad). well, she is there because that class is an inclusion class, where half of the students need differentiated learning. but, i learned today, that she is not much of a disciplinarian. she has a different patience than i. i asked her about her method of discipline--she simply stated that the class hasn't pushed her buttons yet, that they aren't misbehaving, they are getting to know each other, and that usually causes extraneous classroom activity that delineates from the learning environment. she told me that she does have a temper, and will discipline when needed (she gave me the example of her disciplining method in her old school when kids would throw books and relieve themselves in the classroom waste basket. i thought, do i have to for those types of circumstances to discipline?! what? no way). well any way, i became the bad guy during that period. raising my voice several times to remind them of the respect that needs to be going on in the classroom. it was the most awful feeling. to stand there and discipline, while the other teacher just watched.
i felt miserable for a good chunk of the day. no one wants to be the bad guy.
block nine and ten. they are brilliant. they made my seemingly awful day much better.
i have the first week under my belt. everyday will be like the third day of school, filled with positives and negatives galore. i'm glad we have a four day weekend. i need to re-group.
Tuesday, September 14th, 2004
Subject: tuesday.
Time: 3:37 pm.
Music: the flaming lips. the strange design of conscience.
okay. another day under my belt. today went surprisingly well too. i share a classroom with mr. cerny (not sear-knee, but cheer-knee, it means black in polish, so says he). we feel comfortable enough to stay in the room while the other teaches. it's weird. but a nice weird. i'm glad that i get to observe another fellow (peace corp, not teaching) and their teaching method. i've learned that he says please too much. he asks me: "erica, what do you think i can do better as far as class management?" i say: "don't say please--don't give them a choice within your rules. be more declarative. don't say 'please be quiet.' say, 'you need to be quiet,' or just plain old 'be quiet.'" he does a great job of constantly referencing his classroom rule of respect though. we'll both have to do a lot of reminding.
i learned today that my kids, through their journaling, that they think i'm strict. but sort of fun. i'm walking that line. i like that line. i like that they think i'm strict. and in "fun", i hope they mean that i'm not too out of touch. because really, i'm not. i like a lot of the same things they do, as far as music and fashion, but i won't let them know for a while.
the lesson planning process has been interesting. i've already found that i'm utterly exhausted by the time i get home (and chances are i'll be going to bed a few hours from now) so i will have to find the best time for me to lesson plan--most likely the weekends, and the wee hours of the morning. i am not opposed to the idea of getting up at four in the morning. i like that alone time. the stillness of the morning. the first cigarette and sip of coffee. it's like i'll have this secret life.
Monday, September 13th, 2004
Subject: monday, sweet monday.
Time: 4:23 pm.
Mood: tired.
Music: my morning jacket. how do you know.
i made it through my first day. i battled through rough sunday sleep. and monday morning stomach flips. through the roller coaster subway ride that made any and everything that was in my stomach (four cups of coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter) travel to my esophagus. adam traveled to school with me at seven thirty in the morning. it felt like kindergarten again. but instead of the multi-colored visor with the flashing lights, a father with a matching one, and the tears, there was adam, two twenty pound bags, and nagging nausea.
he dropped me off and i said "do not kiss me in front of the school, that is big no no." who the hell says "no no"? seriously, "no no"? i had just had a patti moment (my mother).
school was amazing. the kids, amazing, petrified, but amazing. i was strict. i was covered in chalk by three thirty, well, ten thirty, to be honest. i wanted to shout a big fuck you to the world at the end of the day, to the people that told me that it would be difficult, terrible, miserable, especially for a new teacher. by the end of the chelsea professional development days a week before, i pretty much disliked the entire faculty, sans those who didn't feel the need to coddle or patronize. i made it through monday. i made it through monday! i feel on the top of the world.
but really, i know that everyday will be a monday, well maybe everyday will be like the second or third day of school. it will be like one of my most favorite movies with bill murray, groundhog day (even as an english teacher i don't know if i underline that movie title or italicize it, and in any and all cases i'm not sure how to do it in livejournal, i haven't done enough research or writing in this thing to even know).
this is going to be the best experience ever.
Sunday, September 5th, 2004
Time: 3:02 pm.
rikki tikki tavi!
Friday, September 3rd, 2004
Subject: past tense present tense. tense tense tense.
Time: 7:30 pm.
i'm kickin it in my swim trunks and brown top. the same brown top i've been wearing for the last three days. i'm alone. and it's okay. i'm not feeling lonely. just sort of nostalgic i guess.
there are days when i forget why i am here. in this apartment. with this new job. this new new new everything. sometimes it feels like the same old same old. and it's not. things a way different than they were from a year and a half ago. a year ago. six months ago.
and to think i came to this place with one bag on my back and no job. and here i am. in this apartment your grandmother would kill for. and in four days i'll be stomping around chelsea vocational high school. and i should be lesson planning, but i'm too caught up in "this". if i really want to get into it, i should have started lesson planning weeks ago. but i, alas, am a procrastinator. back to change.
really. i rent an apartment with a crime partner (fuck richie), i will have some insane health insurance starting september seventh.
_____
things sometimes feel the same. and it's the parts of me that haven't changed. i will always love others more than i will love myself. i will always have a no for all the yes.
______
i want other more memories. these are great, yes, so fantastic, that i yearn for more. what is it that i do that turn people away? why am i so afraid of people? why do want friends when i'm so afraid of people? i want friends. but i've built a flaky bridge so it seems.
well, anyways i want these memories so i can joke around with my friends on the back porch drinking beer and grilling burgers and reflect on the fun that was had.
Thursday, August 26th, 2004
Time: 7:47 pm.
to start collecting unicorn earrings.
also, workshop my play or shop it around to be produced.
Tuesday, August 24th, 2004
Subject: wings.
Time: 9:26 am.
i want them. you do to. maybe some of you pretty boys and girls will come with me tomorrow. at croxley's.
Monday, August 23rd, 2004
Subject: i'm excited.
Time: 6:28 pm.
about going to built by wendy tomorrow to look at the new wrangler collection i cannot afford.
i will try on jeans. find the right size. and pray someone purchases them and sells them on ebay on the cheaps.
Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
Subject: really.
Time: 11:53 am.
i have no friends.
be my friend.
Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
Time: 2:34 pm.
bay ridge is amazing. fruit stands. and clean streets. flavor. wicked monk. townies. and i'm sure sugar free sweets are buried somewhere on fifth avenue.
Sunday, August 15th, 2004
Time: 9:27 am.
i'm sorry.
Friday, August 13th, 2004
Subject: for me.
Time: 5:06 pm.
To feel a sequence of raised bumps that erupt with fine blonde hairs on thighs that belong to someone else. This is what my fingers want.
__________
And I cannot decipher whether or not I want to be in her or be her.
___
I see so many beautiful things: my brain cannot synthesize these images, so fine and vibrant, into words on paper.
Why?
Concrete fissures filled with tanned kernels.
Olive green olives that burst with jalapeño fire in my mouth.
______
So many shoes! So many! On subway rides I picture these shoes melting, onto the speckled variants of blues and whites on sheets of black linoleum floors of train cars, into a sea of red ants. Red ants flooding from Air Trainer Ones and muddied tan boots and soft-soled beaded moccasins.
And I eventually I drown in red ants.
Before I suffocate, I feel light legs of partitioned bodies on my skin—in holes where no thing except for air has traveled. Swallowing, as I grasp for air, fragmented groupings of tiny red bodies lump in the back of my throat.
___________________________________________
Something sits in my stomach so sad as I travel back home to Greenwood Heights. Fuck it. I’ve been carrying this weight for days. I swallow as I breathe and I feel the air, having traveled (down the wrong pipe, as my mother would say) from mouth to stomach, surrounding this amorphous glob, suffocating this weighty sadness until I am nauseous and wriggle with discomfort and gag from its blanketing intrusion.
What is down there?
I’ve taken five fiber pills every night for the last three nights, deviating from my three every-other-day routine. I’ve consumed one extra cup of sweet coffee in the following three mornings. I’m hoping to push this weight out in the thick-aired August mornings and flush it to Paris (my plumber is from Avignon and harbors this hatred for Paris. He says it is politics. I think he abhors the city for its flowery odors).
I ponder milk-chocolate flavored laxatives for dinner.
Thursday, August 5th, 2004
Subject: why don't i love you enough, journal.
Time: 9:54 pm.
i ignore you. but i do love you. somewhere deep in the warm nooks of my bowels, the love is there.
i'm almost finished with my summer session at pace. and next monday i start a week-long literacy training session. and then. a break. a time to relax, for a hot second. and then re-group. organize. erica remember the teacher's wish-list section of craig's list and donor's choose dot org.
i'd like to build a classroom environment for my little birds. since i will be hanging with them for ninety minutes a day i'd like some rugs and throw pillows and some crazy lamps. hi, donations. ramp-up shoves about two thousand books down your throat in the first two weeks, but i'm going to thrift and beg for more. if you have any you want to get rid of, throw them my way.
i'm going to start a blog for teaching. not on livejournal. can anyone suggest a good free lovely blogging site?
me mum is coming tomorrow to visit the place. she hasn't been to new york since i've moved. i'm very excited. and she is too. hand towels and kitchen supplies and bookcases and tools and pillows and storage units and loki hair to make this new place feel occupied.
i've taken to writing again. it's my secret that i am letting out.
Sunday, July 18th, 2004
Subject: Greenwood Heights.
Time: 5:47 pm.
I think we have it. We have it. But in saying that, I feel like I’m going to fuck it up. My glass isn’t half full nor is it half empty. It’s just empty. Why. We got it. I need to stop thinking about it. We will get the fax. And it will be over.
Saturday, July 17th, 2004
Time: 9:16 am.
theresa and andy are getting married today.
Friday, July 16th, 2004
Time: 9:47 pm.
i pulled into nazareth, was feeling about half past dead.
i just need some place where i can lay my head.
"hey, mister, can you tell me where a man might find a bed?"
he just grinned and shook my hand, and "no" was all he said.
picked up my bag, went looking for a place to hide.
when i saw carmen and the devil walkin' side by side
i said: "hey, carmen, come on, let's go downtown."
she said: "i gotta go, but m'friend can stick around."
go down, miss moses, there's nothing you can say.
it's just old luke, and luke's waitin' on the judgement day.
"well luke, my friend, what about young anna lee?"
he said: "do me a favour, son, won't you stay an' keep anna lee company?"
crazy chester followed me, and he caught me in the fog.
he said: "i will fix your rack, if you'll take jack, my dog"
i said: "wait a minute, chester, i'm a peaceful man"
he said: "that's ok, just feed him when you can"
catch a cannon ball now, to take me down the line.
my bag is sinking low and i do believe it's time
to get back to miss fanny, you know she's the only one
who sent me here with her regards for everyone.
take a load off fanny.
take a load for free.
take a load off fanny,
and you can put the load right on me.
Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004
Time: 7:03 am.
when did i become a morning person?
two.
Monday, June 9th, 2003
Subject: hi kids.
Time: 12:01 pm.
sitting around waiting to be called into work. thinking about the things i'd do if i wasn't called into work. i'd go to queens. to the promise land of target. i'd go jogging. i'd do laundry.
by the way i'm canning this job. to make time for me.
and to make time for others.
someone at work told me the other day i was a likeable person. this made me feel pretty good.
Saturday, June 7th, 2003
Subject: oh yeah?
Time: 4:46 pm.
i'm not giving up yet. and that includes you you and you. and me too.
holla.
Friday, June 6th, 2003
Subject: typos.
Time: 5:56 pm.
happiness is going to hit me hard some day. this deep sadness is going to dissipate. and i don't care who reads this. i just need to let some of it out. maybe i just need more hugs.
Saturday, May 24th, 2003
Subject: ALSO.
Time: 1:05 am.
I JOINED FRIENDSTER. BOO. I WANT TO LIVE IN A SMALL TOWN AGAIN SOME TIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE. AND I WANT TO DRINK BEER AND BOWL. YES. AT THE SAME TIME.
Time: 1:01 am.
WHY WOULD YOU EVER WANT A LIVE JOURNAL T-SHIRT. SERIOUSLY FOLKS. WHAT KIND OF MARKETING DID YOU DO.
AND.
I AM GOING HOME TO SEE MY DOG. AND I AM GOING TO GO CAMPING. AND I LOVE CAPS LOCKS. MORE THAN I WILL EVER LOVE YOU.
DEAR ERICA. THIS IS ERICA. I PROMISE THINGS WILL STRAIGHTEN OUT. IT WILL GET BETTER. IF NOT, YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE LORD.
Saturday, May 17th, 2003
Subject: not so sweet.
Time: 1:47 am.
i left passerby early. my arms are pins and needles. the back of my head hurts.
Friday, May 16th, 2003
Subject: okay.
Time: 3:08 pm.
i'm scared of being an opportunist.
and.
i'm out of practice.
and out of touch.
Saturday, May 10th, 2003
Subject: things could be better. things could be worse.
Time: 1:03 pm.
Mood: blah.
Music: cat hum.
i need a little break. from new york city. i need a little break, period. to re-group. i feel like i'm falling a part. all i need is less noise. more space. a basketball. loki. warm air. more stars. a drive. old friends.
i'm feeling out of place these days.
Wednesday, May 7th, 2003
Subject: i don't write that often.
Time: 12:30 pm.
but i still lurk in your journals. ha. ha. ha.
Wednesday, April 16th, 2003
Subject: work.
Time: 3:50 pm.
my body hates me.
Friday, April 11th, 2003
Subject: i wish i was a little bit taller.
Time: 11:50 pm.
i'm thinking about you. yes you.
Tuesday, April 8th, 2003
Subject: ha.
Time: 12:09 pm.
Music: bruce springsteen. atlantic city.
FAULKNER.
i'm really tired.
Monday, April 7th, 2003
Subject: i blame college.
Time: 2:30 pm.
Mood: okay.
Music: big fat greek wedding dvd display music.
Definition.
Before (prior to any voluntary or not voluntary movement regarding this process) I enter my sanctuary, which I have entered before, consciously, though at times unconsciously to consciously recall all the times I have entered it before, my body shuffles under the covers, the covers that chafe my body, until urgency--whether it be conscious or unconscious--urges me to remove my body from my bed, drawing me to this room, this room that I have entered before. And in the darkness of the hallway (or is it the darkness of my mind, of my dreams, of my life?), I search, fondling the walls with my fingertips (crudely) to find the light, a light I know--for this knowledge was bequeathed unto me by my mother--that will reinforce, shed luminary delight over, dictate the world around me with just one flick of the switch, a switch that will turn on the light, and i will no longer be stifled by the darkness, suffocated by naivete--the time before external existence, in the watery womb, in the warmth that is understood before the conscious awakening of birth that is not naivete, but rather, innate, as though my mother's maternal crooning urinated from her mind, flushed through the umbilical cord and dripped into my under-developed--not over-developed, as it is now--mind. Crudely. Crudely fondle, the walls? Or is it my id that crudely fondles my ego in search of the superego to quench this crude fondling. But, what is crude but the basic humanistic instinct of yearning, yearning for rationality, for understanding, for a requital of something, a thing, anything, maybe nothing that is unrequited. What would Funk and Wagnalls define as crude, for the definition--the hierarchical social (and published) definition (which, to my own over- developed conscious, is substandard in the whole of things)--is created by the hands of these men (but are Funk and Wagnalls men, or are they only names, only definitions of this elite group of definers?) But it seems that definitions are (just) words that define, and these (just) words are (just) words that must be defined as well; a not (mystic) definition. And as I search, I search not not not in vain for this light that will show me the way; I do indeed find it, and as my mission is subjugated--whether unconsciously or not unconsciously--it creates a new and uncharted circumstance (mystic). I sit in a room that I have entered, entered before, and wait this time for my deeds to be done, (for this deed is involuntarily motivated from the bowels of my inner being) and as I sit on cold porcelain (as Funk and Wagnalls might have done), as if by some divine intervention, as if the answer had fallen upon my lap, on top of my Farmer's Almanac that is on top of my bare thighs,a question is answered. My eyes meander, as my legs once did from dark dream to light, to the roll. To my demise, the definition of crude is redefined:
Crude is three sheets of cotton to a roll of cardboard.
Thursday, February 20th, 2003
Subject: oh boy.
Time: 10:58 pm.
Mood: lkf353405sdfkasdf;as..
Music: none. none.
i want to tell you how i really feel. but i am too passive.
Tuesday, February 18th, 2003
Subject: effin snow.
Time: 12:34 pm.
Mood: indescribable.
Music: nick cave. love letter.
i'm too sensitive. even the snow has made me sad. on another note altogether i'd like to text that i am happy that i don't make plans. though aggravating to others it saves me aggravation when the plans fall through. i.e. my trip to new york which was suppose to start yesterday. the weather gods are against me. i took this week off a month ago, and here i am listening to records and ink painting. jenny jones on mute in the background. should i start reading the old farmer's almanac? i can say that these days i'm not happy. but i did get a manicure the other day. and i must admit it made me giggle, because it's the most ludicrous thing i've done in months. i made them paint my nails a flesh tone color. i am a bird. when march comes maybe this stress with go away maybe it shift like fault line layers and i'll want to say a big fuck you to new york and i'll move to somewhere warm. did i mention i am trying to build a relationship. and it's hard. just like i remembered it to be.
Thursday, February 6th, 2003
Subject: so my aunt drinks...
Time: 10:24 pm.
Mood: stressed.
Music: gillian welch. elvis presley blues.
and sometimes calls when she is well on her way to being shit faced. and every suspicion i have about my mother's regards on me leaving this town and my over active lunacy for living a life as an artist is confirmed. and my mother has this guilt that she harbors around with a smile. she is a better actor than i. i know she doesn't want me to leave. but she will never say it. and i know she wants me to wear suits and work in a cubicle, grocery shop every tuesday and drive a blue mini van for the rest of my life. in this town. but she will never say it. and this seems so typically banal. i need a fancy metaphor to make this all too common story seem sassy.
and. leave michael jackson alone.
and. i gave work my notice.
Sunday, February 2nd, 2003
Subject: sunday.
Time: 10:07 pm.
Mood: anxious.
Music: gillian welch. revelator.
a list of things. sans grammatical parallelism.
homecoming queen.
flat a accent.
wanting to be a maggie may.
never skied.
emmy lou harris.
insecure.
owning a fashionable metallica tee.
a phase of wearing men's fruit of the loom.
wet tampons to ceilings.
murphy's.
willis.
blood clot.
queen of the foul shot.
published poem.
one play.
skinner speech.
bad posture.
Saturday, February 1st, 2003
Subject: boo.
Time: 10:29 pm.
Music: the jesus and mary chain. sometimes always.
my arm hurts. i am going to cry.
Friday, January 31st, 2003
Subject: gah.
Time: 8:41 am.
Mood: sad.
Music: wilco. i am trying to break your heart.
i don't like to wake up. in fact, i don't like going to sleep simply because i know i am going to wake up eventually. why does it often take thirty minutes for my right arm to shake the pins and needles?
Subject: blind date.
Time: 12:41 am.
Mood: giggly.
Music: cat power. metal heart.
these turds use lines that are so funny. it made me think of that time jeff wanted to smooch and he told me to "seize the day." and i'm still friends with that fucker. fancy that.
Subject: hi kids.
Time: 12:01 pm.
sitting around waiting to be called into work. thinking about the things i'd do if i wasn't called into work. i'd go to queens. to the promise land of target. i'd go jogging. i'd do laundry.
by the way i'm canning this job. to make time for me.
and to make time for others.
someone at work told me the other day i was a likeable person. this made me feel pretty good.
Saturday, June 7th, 2003
Subject: oh yeah?
Time: 4:46 pm.
i'm not giving up yet. and that includes you you and you. and me too.
holla.
Friday, June 6th, 2003
Subject: typos.
Time: 5:56 pm.
happiness is going to hit me hard some day. this deep sadness is going to dissipate. and i don't care who reads this. i just need to let some of it out. maybe i just need more hugs.
Saturday, May 24th, 2003
Subject: ALSO.
Time: 1:05 am.
I JOINED FRIENDSTER. BOO. I WANT TO LIVE IN A SMALL TOWN AGAIN SOME TIME IN THE NEAR FUTURE. AND I WANT TO DRINK BEER AND BOWL. YES. AT THE SAME TIME.
Time: 1:01 am.
WHY WOULD YOU EVER WANT A LIVE JOURNAL T-SHIRT. SERIOUSLY FOLKS. WHAT KIND OF MARKETING DID YOU DO.
AND.
I AM GOING HOME TO SEE MY DOG. AND I AM GOING TO GO CAMPING. AND I LOVE CAPS LOCKS. MORE THAN I WILL EVER LOVE YOU.
DEAR ERICA. THIS IS ERICA. I PROMISE THINGS WILL STRAIGHTEN OUT. IT WILL GET BETTER. IF NOT, YOU WILL ALWAYS HAVE THE LORD.
Saturday, May 17th, 2003
Subject: not so sweet.
Time: 1:47 am.
i left passerby early. my arms are pins and needles. the back of my head hurts.
Friday, May 16th, 2003
Subject: okay.
Time: 3:08 pm.
i'm scared of being an opportunist.
and.
i'm out of practice.
and out of touch.
Saturday, May 10th, 2003
Subject: things could be better. things could be worse.
Time: 1:03 pm.
Mood: blah.
Music: cat hum.
i need a little break. from new york city. i need a little break, period. to re-group. i feel like i'm falling a part. all i need is less noise. more space. a basketball. loki. warm air. more stars. a drive. old friends.
i'm feeling out of place these days.
Wednesday, May 7th, 2003
Subject: i don't write that often.
Time: 12:30 pm.
but i still lurk in your journals. ha. ha. ha.
Wednesday, April 16th, 2003
Subject: work.
Time: 3:50 pm.
my body hates me.
Friday, April 11th, 2003
Subject: i wish i was a little bit taller.
Time: 11:50 pm.
i'm thinking about you. yes you.
Tuesday, April 8th, 2003
Subject: ha.
Time: 12:09 pm.
Music: bruce springsteen. atlantic city.
FAULKNER.
i'm really tired.
Monday, April 7th, 2003
Subject: i blame college.
Time: 2:30 pm.
Mood: okay.
Music: big fat greek wedding dvd display music.
Definition.
Before (prior to any voluntary or not voluntary movement regarding this process) I enter my sanctuary, which I have entered before, consciously, though at times unconsciously to consciously recall all the times I have entered it before, my body shuffles under the covers, the covers that chafe my body, until urgency--whether it be conscious or unconscious--urges me to remove my body from my bed, drawing me to this room, this room that I have entered before. And in the darkness of the hallway (or is it the darkness of my mind, of my dreams, of my life?), I search, fondling the walls with my fingertips (crudely) to find the light, a light I know--for this knowledge was bequeathed unto me by my mother--that will reinforce, shed luminary delight over, dictate the world around me with just one flick of the switch, a switch that will turn on the light, and i will no longer be stifled by the darkness, suffocated by naivete--the time before external existence, in the watery womb, in the warmth that is understood before the conscious awakening of birth that is not naivete, but rather, innate, as though my mother's maternal crooning urinated from her mind, flushed through the umbilical cord and dripped into my under-developed--not over-developed, as it is now--mind. Crudely. Crudely fondle, the walls? Or is it my id that crudely fondles my ego in search of the superego to quench this crude fondling. But, what is crude but the basic humanistic instinct of yearning, yearning for rationality, for understanding, for a requital of something, a thing, anything, maybe nothing that is unrequited. What would Funk and Wagnalls define as crude, for the definition--the hierarchical social (and published) definition (which, to my own over- developed conscious, is substandard in the whole of things)--is created by the hands of these men (but are Funk and Wagnalls men, or are they only names, only definitions of this elite group of definers?) But it seems that definitions are (just) words that define, and these (just) words are (just) words that must be defined as well; a not (mystic) definition. And as I search, I search not not not in vain for this light that will show me the way; I do indeed find it, and as my mission is subjugated--whether unconsciously or not unconsciously--it creates a new and uncharted circumstance (mystic). I sit in a room that I have entered, entered before, and wait this time for my deeds to be done, (for this deed is involuntarily motivated from the bowels of my inner being) and as I sit on cold porcelain (as Funk and Wagnalls might have done), as if by some divine intervention, as if the answer had fallen upon my lap, on top of my Farmer's Almanac that is on top of my bare thighs,a question is answered. My eyes meander, as my legs once did from dark dream to light, to the roll. To my demise, the definition of crude is redefined:
Crude is three sheets of cotton to a roll of cardboard.
Thursday, February 20th, 2003
Subject: oh boy.
Time: 10:58 pm.
Mood: lkf353405sdfkasdf;as..
Music: none. none.
i want to tell you how i really feel. but i am too passive.
Tuesday, February 18th, 2003
Subject: effin snow.
Time: 12:34 pm.
Mood: indescribable.
Music: nick cave. love letter.
i'm too sensitive. even the snow has made me sad. on another note altogether i'd like to text that i am happy that i don't make plans. though aggravating to others it saves me aggravation when the plans fall through. i.e. my trip to new york which was suppose to start yesterday. the weather gods are against me. i took this week off a month ago, and here i am listening to records and ink painting. jenny jones on mute in the background. should i start reading the old farmer's almanac? i can say that these days i'm not happy. but i did get a manicure the other day. and i must admit it made me giggle, because it's the most ludicrous thing i've done in months. i made them paint my nails a flesh tone color. i am a bird. when march comes maybe this stress with go away maybe it shift like fault line layers and i'll want to say a big fuck you to new york and i'll move to somewhere warm. did i mention i am trying to build a relationship. and it's hard. just like i remembered it to be.
Thursday, February 6th, 2003
Subject: so my aunt drinks...
Time: 10:24 pm.
Mood: stressed.
Music: gillian welch. elvis presley blues.
and sometimes calls when she is well on her way to being shit faced. and every suspicion i have about my mother's regards on me leaving this town and my over active lunacy for living a life as an artist is confirmed. and my mother has this guilt that she harbors around with a smile. she is a better actor than i. i know she doesn't want me to leave. but she will never say it. and i know she wants me to wear suits and work in a cubicle, grocery shop every tuesday and drive a blue mini van for the rest of my life. in this town. but she will never say it. and this seems so typically banal. i need a fancy metaphor to make this all too common story seem sassy.
and. leave michael jackson alone.
and. i gave work my notice.
Sunday, February 2nd, 2003
Subject: sunday.
Time: 10:07 pm.
Mood: anxious.
Music: gillian welch. revelator.
a list of things. sans grammatical parallelism.
homecoming queen.
flat a accent.
wanting to be a maggie may.
never skied.
emmy lou harris.
insecure.
owning a fashionable metallica tee.
a phase of wearing men's fruit of the loom.
wet tampons to ceilings.
murphy's.
willis.
blood clot.
queen of the foul shot.
published poem.
one play.
skinner speech.
bad posture.
Saturday, February 1st, 2003
Subject: boo.
Time: 10:29 pm.
Music: the jesus and mary chain. sometimes always.
my arm hurts. i am going to cry.
Friday, January 31st, 2003
Subject: gah.
Time: 8:41 am.
Mood: sad.
Music: wilco. i am trying to break your heart.
i don't like to wake up. in fact, i don't like going to sleep simply because i know i am going to wake up eventually. why does it often take thirty minutes for my right arm to shake the pins and needles?
Subject: blind date.
Time: 12:41 am.
Mood: giggly.
Music: cat power. metal heart.
these turds use lines that are so funny. it made me think of that time jeff wanted to smooch and he told me to "seize the day." and i'm still friends with that fucker. fancy that.
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