www.highlandercenter.org

Ok, so I'd like to end up here eventually. I've been reading up on Appalachian Issues (race/women/education/economics) all day. I'm going to keep on reading. I'm 90% sure I'm going to Peru for a minimum of 6 months after I graduate. The plan is to become fluent in Spanish, come back home, and apply any skills I have to bettering communities and empowering/educating women in areas like these.

That's the plan. As of today. In some way working in a different country is less intimidating than staying in the U.S.

I was in Ramsey yesterday unlocking my bike and a woman came up to me and, in Spanish, asked if I spoke Spanish. I said no, but through a series of smiles, hand gestures, and our bad bilingual skills combines, I helped her buy a round trip ticket to Paterson.

Which is near where I grew up. Which made me think about Peru, which made me think about living in another country for the rest of my life and working. But it's in my backyard. It's in Jersey, New York, The Appalachian Mountains. It's in Ramsey,a place where rich and poor coexist, but one is much less aware of the other.

So I will travel and learn. Explore and grow stronger, but I will come back here. But I've always known that. I knew it in India. I knew it when Balbuena offered me a place to stay. I knew it yesterday.

I kind of fell off my bike today. But luckily I was literally five feet away from the elevator and I have only acquired a small bruise. I'm getting too cocky with tight turns.

I laughed really hard tonight and it reminded me of the importance of cackles and boisterous explosions.

Switch to 6th gear at MacArthur Blvd. I make disco ball patterns with my head light, swiveling my neck around and singing "She's a lady" by Tom Jones. I pump my legs hard and act as ridiculous as possible .. because I can. Because it's 11 o'clock and I've earned it. There is nothing quite like a 13 hour day. Having to be on and now I'm off. I come home and I can't even tell you how many and which bones are cracking. My stomach hurts because I am all caffeinated/carbonated beverage and no water.

When I open the door to 16D I can hear WNYC playing in my room. I keep it on so I don't have to come home to quiet set of dark rooms.

An older couple came in to the store tonight.

Me: Are you together? (pointing to the stuff on the counter)
Wife: That's what he'd like to think.
The man laughs.

Wife: I got the new digital license and I still look like a hooker.
Husband: Mutters in agreement. And he laughs again.

Heh, perfecto. Those two people and a little boy made my night.

There are people I should call and emails I should write, but I have to let it rest. Because tomorrow will be the same.



It seems to me now the plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don't need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone + n.h.
raise your hand

MONDAY. July something or other. Written en route.

Their apartment is a 4 room, 3 floor walk up in Williamsburg. She flits about the kitchen and TV area showing me how "this is the first place I've lived where I had a perfect place to put that hutch. That space was empty when we moved in"
"Like it was waiting for you," I say. "Yea," she smiles and lights another cigarette. I follow her out on to the fire escape to see the view and think how nice it would be to sleep there, but she is already telling me how once she took a nap out there on couch pillows.

Their bedroom is big. "We never put our clothes away." She sighs, but it's a Happy/Content/Loving accceptance Sigh. It's okay that they're messy. It's a cute quirk that his clothes are thrown in with hers - as entangled as their sheets and arms when they lay together at night.

The smiles I'm givin her are genuine. I'm happy for her. So, there's that physical/knee jerk reaction -- I smile.

*
One time he came home from work and gave her a call so she could drop down the keyes as usual. Neighborhood kids jumping on an abandoned sofa laughed as the keys fell right on his head.
"How was work?" she asked as he walked through the door - ignoring her impulse to hold and pet him; kiss his head.. because it is funny.
"Ok" he must have said - scratching his head and smiling back

*

Over dinner we talked about our mothers. Hers always had someone and felt lonely when she didn't. Mine never had anyone and exists most noticeably in solitude; going three days at a time without having a conversation with anyone else. Most of the time, we don't want to be our parents. We see in them things we don't like about ourselves; things we might become. So we manifest into the opposite.
*

So here I am and there she is getting ready to go to his show. We leave their apartment dark and stifled in late July heat. I'm sure they'll climb the steps later talking and laughing and falling asleep after making love. "Heh," I grunt to myself, "yea probably just like that." And it will probably be just like that because wasn't it always?
*

On the PATH ride home I imagine myself without sexual organs. Without desires. Without love that pulsates ferociously through me. I try and feel ambivalence where my fire is. But I only experience waves of fatigue washing over me and an inward groan at the thought of the bike ride ahead. I distract myself about reading up on an amazing woman activist in Afghanistan and twisting my hair.

I want to go somewhere no one I know has ever been before. To have that and submerge in it, own it, disappear? Where there used to be a "Couldn't/Wouldn't" there is a "And then?" A question implying I did and there is an outcome is the ripples I would make. Yes, "And then?" How far would these ripples reach and how hard would the rock - symbolizing the act of disappearing - break the surface of the pond? What sound would it make and how high up would the water fly after it hits?

__

I almost cried when I was at the gaycenter on West 13th, so happy was I to not be here.
I was most content eating my lunch in Tompkins Sq. Park alone, but not alone. Watching and probably being watched.

Heh, like it's my first day of school.

I have a list of things I need to bring. I've mapped out the route from the PATH to West 13th St. I am bringing a book, notebook, and pen. I know what I'm going to wear and, just to feel like an adult, I have my dinner plans as well.

I just looked up and Sidrahm is staring back at me. He loved having his picture taken. I'm standing next to him with my arms folded and my right foot in front of my left. I look like a cocky newsboy ... with a big smile on my face. Lauren's caught off guard and Taylor is being cheesy behind us.
I haven't felt right since I got back. Or maybe I didn't feel right before. Yes, I remember... I remember being willing to exchange anything just to be aware, informed, more knowledgeable of the world. And I have exchanged things.
Instead of settling into a complacent idea that I will never go anywhere because that is what my class/station in life dictates, I now have a restlessness oozing with confidence that I can leave .. and more anger/defiance than I had before directed at where I stand in this class system.
Instead of loving where I live and defending the small obnoxious nuances that make up New Jersey... I just see strip malls and people who treat me as inhuman/invisible at work, asphalt, manicured lawns, $500 purses, and girls who are naked and boys who are taught to only see that.
Instead of thinking I could get away from all that in all its forms, I know that these things manifest themselves in one way or another everywhere.
Instead of having no faith in myself and my capabilities.. I bike at night, I figure out trains' peak times, I research savings accounts, I make conscious choices, I have "a day" in the city, I volunteer, I take time.


Walking out of ShopRite two days ago the sky was dark grey and starting seeping through the cracks in the clouds.. An old woman pushing a cart behind me starting talking about the weather. "It's been a bad summer so far", she said. I looked at her and thought Movie Moment. I said, "Yea, it's been rough."

So, I think these things happen for a reason. Is that fatalism? Hmm, I hope not seeing as how I've put in a lot of time to saying I was some angsty existentialist.

It's the days like this one .. when I have a short shift at work, an exhilirating bike ride home (in the rain and spitting to the side the whole way), a great Wait Wait Don't Tell Me playing on the radio, and wet hair and a comb so I can make funny Elvis-like hair dos ...

Yea, it's days like this one that I am pretty happy. Because it doesn't take much. And who would've guessed? I thought the afternoon would be horrible after I went through that big pothole filled with muddy water.

My legs are getting very strong. My time, faster, I hope. I've been biking every day since Wednesday and will be continuing the pattern until Thursday.

Ok. Well, Carl Kasell is doing limericks now ..

I am too scared to write. I could have gone to Starbucks after work today and let my mind go nuts on a piece of paper the way I know it needs to, but I came back here instead.

So, I guess I thought I'd write about not being able to write. Monday is looking to be good, though. My morning is booked and my evening is swamped.

What picture does all this even paint?



Well, that was my Friday.

huzzah!

News Release
From: Campaign to Stop Killer Coke
For more information, contact Pat Clark or Ray Rogers at (718) 852-2808
For Immediate Release, July 18, 2006

Coca-Cola Suffers Big Blow in Investment Community

KLD Research & Analytics, Inc. of Boston, Mass., a world leader in defining corporate responsibility standards, has removed The Coca-Cola Company from its Broad Market Social Index (BMSI). The BMSI consists of all companies within the Russell 3000 that pass KLD’s screening criteria.

This means that large institutional investors like Teachers Insurance and Annuity Association – College Retirement Equity Fund (TIAA-CREF), the nation’s largest pension fund, will ban Coca-Cola from its CREF Choice Account, the world’s largest socially screened fund for individual investors with $7.9 billion in assets and more than 200,000 investors.

“Such action by KLD is a very serious matter for any company, but especially for one like Coca-Cola that spends billions of dollars promoting itself as socially responsible which it is not,” said Ray Rogers, director of the Campaign to Stop Killer Coke

At the end of December, the CREF Social Choice Account held 1,250,500 shares of Coca-Cola common stock valued at more than $50 million.

KLD applies a two-step research process to determine the BMSI. First, companies involved in alcohol, tobacco, firearms, gambling, nuclear power and military contracting are excluded from consideration. KLD also evaluates companies’ records in qualitative areas such as community relations, workforce diversity, employee relations, environment, non-U.S. operations, and product safety and use.

I am a 20 year old woman who hasn't slept with a doll or stuffed animal since the age of 8 or 9, but who now snuggles up to one every night -- even kissing it gently on the head and giving it a squeeze before leaving the apartment .
Hah, oh, the things we do.

-

This morning I woke up with a charlie-horse and even though it hurt, it was cool to feel all the muscles in my calf. There were many!

-

Tonight is the first night bike ride. I am making a big deal out of this because I am nervous. I put the back light on my bike just now and had to smile.

At the risk of sounding completely bipolar ..
I am feeling okay at 4:38 pm on a Sunday.

Eight hour shift at Petco today.. meaning I was a big waste and stayed upstairs in the Wellness Room for as long as possible because I simply preferred the company of hamsters with swollen assholes to human beings at the time.

Having my watch on while I ride makes me compete with myself, making the ride a little less fun. I'm not surprised when I look at a clock after I'm finished. I don't say "Sweet! _ _ minutes!" So, maybe I'll leave it in my bag. Although today I did pull 20 minutes back from work in 90 something degree heat and my stubby legs.

I called Mother from work today and we were on the phone for 40 minutes. Maybe she is able to be there for me sometimes and I just have to chance it. So I have a list of things I need to do. A list of things I want to do and of course, I know is also stuff that will come up which might alter the path completely.

Yea, bipolar. The Bipolar Sage.

Katie and I went to Houlihan's today. It was surreal. It was dark. It was a little over priced. We talked about the Uncertainty that pervades this time in our lives. That hangs over us all. I've ignored it, but obviously.. I can't any longer. Uncertainty and the ideology "We'll have to see" is applicable to many facets in my life.
I am trying to keep busy today. There is too much to think/hurt/cry/wonder/worry about.

I don't know if I'll be able to pay for next semester. I might have to take a year off. Pragmatically, I know why I'm in school right now, but this campus/this area/this state is so unsatisfactory. It dawned on me today that until I leave New Jersey, I won't like where I am. I don't want to learn here anymore because it is all just in the classroom. I want to take classes in a different state/country. There isn't much here at all.
That is a horrible/sad feeling.
Yes, I'll make the best of it, but I wonder how good that will end up being anyway.

Yesterday evening on the train I tried to stay as still as possible. The car was packed as I made my way down the center aisle. I had gotten on three cars back, but kept following the woman in front of me from car to car. I wondered where would be good enough for her. She was making her way into the fourth car when I caught the eye of a young man in a collared shirt and dress pants. I had been looking at all of the men's eyes as I walked down the aisle. Some were tired, some were surprised to see a woman looking at them.
Something about this man made me want to sit down across the aisle from him. I tried to see what it was by looking at him, but there wasn't anything spectacular. He was playing Solitaire on his laptop and his collared shirt was the kind where only the collar is white and the rest is blue. I don't like those. He seemed annoyed by most things and I felt disappointed that I had followed that woman through all those cars just for this.

I was in Observer mode. As if I wasn't there, my face so placid and unflinching, accepting whatever might have happened. A bomb could have gone off and only an "Oh" would have escaped my lips.
I felt more like myself than I usually do, sitting on that train across from the grotesquely fat European woman. Her round painted face. Her stomach fat falling over the belt she had fashionably put around her waist.
I was in the last seat facing the entire car. I felt as if I were on display, but made it my task to meet everyone in the eye. The train started moving with groans and screams of metal chaffing metal. Two men got up and left the car because they said it was too heavy. I looked and wondered how much weight would have to be put on one side of the car for it to turn over.


On the PATH to Hoboken I held the metallic pole covered in germs, but was too tired to care. To my right two young pretty things held onto another pole and the third hand sharing space with theirs was pudgy and belonged to 20 something guy with a face full of character who really filled out his suit. His eyes were blue ... and shrunk back, as if to protect himself from me, when he caught me looking at him. He had a Whole Foods bag and a copy of Tuesdays With Morrie in his hand. He leafed through it semi-interestedly .. as you do when you know someone is watching you and you want them to know, somehow, that you are interested in books. That you read them, that you pour over their words, and go to sleep with their profound meanings.. letting those symbols and truths permeate your dreams.
He looked uncomfortable holding the pole with those girls. His ruddy Irish face tilted down to his book. I thought about how I would never read that book, but because he was reading it.. maybe it was worth looking at. I remember thinking "Hallmark" when I read the back of it once. Because I am so cynical. Because sometimes I overlook or reject pure-hearted/simplistically beautiful things. Things that other people find great joy in because they are not always looking for a pitfall or soemthing to sneer at. Because other people who enjoy these things are not afraid of having their heart warmed.
The PATH stopped and my 14th Street to Hoboken daydreaming was over. Everyone was standing by the doors waiting for them to open. They wouldn't open. How weird, people were muttering. I looked behind me and, funny thing, the other doors had opened instead. Maybe it was because I had already gotten to know him in my head, or pretended I did, but I let out a quick "Oh!" like when you solve a puzzle, squeezed the ruddy face guy's shoulder, smiled at him like we were sharing a joke together/just us, and pointed to the other door. He smiled too.

Working for almost 24 hours in a row numbs the mind and creates a stoppage of the Word Flow. Reactions are reduced to gutteral noises ommitted from the throat, incoherent sentences, and just pure Feeling racing through the body.

Holding everything in produces the same effect. Hyperventilation can occur, fist clenching emotion. Two years ago today I wasn't working a lot; I just wasn't talking. I wasn't letting out all the stuff that was coming in.
And I feel like it is happening again.
Which is frightening because I fear all I do is Release and practice Abreaction. But there's still more?

This aphasia which comes over me is so crippling that I must lie in bed for however long or until the phone rings. (I'm never one to not answer a phone)
The mind can be so intent on bending things this way and so that it may see what it wants to. I've been seeing horrible things.. letting an off the cuff remark do far more damage than it's worth ..

I am so tired. My brain is so over worked. And, yes, I'm sure that's a 1/3 of it. But these actions .. these occurences, no matter how benign they are.. sometimes they add up in my exhausted brain and I can't see any farther than the picture it paints.
I can't see rationale or the Up Side.

Where is the whole?

I enjoy the possibilities here. The hints of great things to come that I find in a smile, passionate conversation, or a good joke.
This summer is turning out to be beneficial in a way that none of my other summers have been.
*

Walking back from Brounstein's apartment this morning I thought about how the heat here reflects off the asphalt and smacks you in the face.
*

I went to the state fair at the Meadowlands last night. For what it's worth, it isn't worth the money I spent.

Tonight was better.

I'm going to stop writing this and send Oamjie an email.

So, here's the truth..

I'm new at this honesty thing. Not that I've been telling lies or witholding truths, but this whole "Ask me how I'm feeling and I'll tell you" thing.

But it's how I feel afterwards... A little scared of the reprecussions, proud, and doubtful of myself
I guess that goes away with time.
*

The apartment is empty now. This makes me more social.

Unfortunately I've stayed up late enough, once again, to reach the point where cognitive thought is .... um.. yea.