funny, disturbing, or just some great advice?

Conversation I overheard between two guys at the gym the other evening. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions concerning their stellar intellect: (for the purposes of keeping this post PG, f-- represents the present active form of the verb to f***)

Dude 1: I really want to get that f-- new job, but I have to f-- take that f-- state test, and its f-- a hundred bucks to take the test.

Dude 2: Dude, you should f-- take the test. I heard you could f-- make $1400 a week.

Dude 1: Yeah, that is cool, but dude, its been f-- eight years since I’ve f-- been in school. I f-- need to take a class to help me pass the f-- test because I f-- don’t remember the difference between my f-- synonyms and my f-- acronyms!

Dude 2: Hey dude, I know its f-- a hundred bucks to take the test, but my buddy f-- took the same test, and if you f-- don’t pass it the first time, then its f-- only $25 to take it again.

Dude 1: Wow, that's f-- cool!

blog neglect

I’m suffering from a severe case of blog neglect, and I’m very sad about it. I have at least a dozen posts in my head, but too busy on all fronts to download them to paper. Hopefully something will give a bit soon.

exercise for my soul

Last night I went to visit S, a girl who lived with me a couple of years ago, and I enjoyed holding her newborn son who was born a week ago. She’s now almost 20, and almost an adult. I say almost because adulthood requires certain responsibilities that S has avoided up to now. The bittersweet part of the story is our visit took place in skid row. There among the various addicts and mentally ill stood my sweet girl holding her sweet baby boy. Now to be fair I know skid row generally conjures up a certain negative perception of homelessness that involves filth and encampments. However, that wasn’t my experience last night. I’m aware that since I have lived in downtown for so many years I may be desensitized a bit to an appropriate idea of normal, but San Julian, the street next to several of the city’s largest missions, was much cleaner than I have ever seen it with no encampments. We also witnessed a deep level of community and protection among the people who live there, and last night was filled with laughter from all directions. Even still it’s not the place I ever want to see a baby.

I have lived in downtown for a long time, and have seen a lot of crazy things, but this city never ceases to provide a countless number of surreal experiences. At one point we were standing talking on the sidewalk, me, N, S and babe, with several of her friends, when a church youth group came walking through twelve deep, but responding as one. You could tell this was a challenge to their worldview and fear held onto them tight. As they passed, across the street there was a man who picked up a couch from the sidewalk, put it on his head, and ran away with it. Meanwhile the chatter and laughter of our little group never stopped. That is probably why it has taken me so long to figure out that despite the positive upbeat feel of the night I’m very sad. Today a number of my friends are working to try and find S a place to stay that is a little more permanent and healthy for the baby, but until we find a place she’ll be staying on my couch. I guess, for me skid row adjacent is still much better than skid row. More than anything it just helps my heart.

just call me crazy!

I’ve heard an apt description of insanity as repeating an action over and over again expecting different results. While I am sure I could apply this to many areas of my life, let’s just focus on one area of insanity. I’m a fair-skinned white girl very prone to burning with over-exposure in the sun. This knowledge is readily available by just looking at me, however, there have been many occasions over my lifetime that I have had an opportunity to test out this presupposition and have found it to be very true, the results of which leave me very red and in pain for days. Why then, do I operate out of my insanity, when clearly I have tested and re-tested my ability to survive in the summer sun?!? The above picture is of my leg, photographed just moments ago, three days after my sun encounter. And never fear, ever the exemplification of thoroughness, I have a matching tone on my back too. At this point I am sure someone would like to inform me about the simplistic value of sunscreen, and to this I wish I could fain ignorance, but alas, I actually had applied sunscreen to my face, arms and shoulders; I even managed to put some on my ears. But the broad sweeping strokes required for my legs and back somehow brought out the insane part of my brain, and those areas were neglected. Neglected that is until now. Now as I sit, still enduring an overarching dull pain over my back and legs with occasional sharp spikes that stab through my flesh, I wonder at the beauty of sunscreen, and its proper usage. Okay, so the stabbing through my flesh is a bit melodramatic, but please, whatever you do, don’t feel sorry for me! Why? Because I am INSANE!

the lost and found (or rather the lost and the more lost)

Sunday night I had an odd and very disconcerting evening, and I can’t seem to shake the residue its left on my heart. I attended a 4th of July BBQ at S & B’s house, my friends who are like my family. Over the years I have met a number of their couple friends at various parties and get-togethers, and several of these couples were in attendance, as well as some new friends. When I say couples, I really mean family units, since most of these couples have been married for a decade or more and have pre-teen and teen-aged children similar to S & B. Two different couples caught my attention almost immediately since their unhappiness was so evident; actually it was the men who appeared to not be happy. With one couple it was very obvious; the male counterpart of the couple was surly and just seemed lost. His wife was too helpful, too happy, and ignored her husband. They didn’t sit together, or interact in any way, and if you didn’t already know that they are a couple it wouldn’t be apparent at all from their interactions at the BBQ. The other family unit that I noticed were much more subtle in their unhappiness. They sat together and on the surface seemed okay, but then there were the cryptic messages the husband would blurt out. Nothing that would seem too odd, but the realization dawned on me that night that the passing comment B had made about friends who were heading to a divorce included them.

Although it made me very sad, seeing these two dissolving family units by themselves wasn’t the thing that disturbed me the most. There was also a new family who came, neighbors from across the street. The husband and wife with their two daughters, in my estimation were a beautiful family. I was informed in the introductions that the oldest daughter, probably about 15, is going to baby-sit T, S & B’s youngest child. Charming, witty, and full of smiles the family unit seemed perfect; that is until Tyrone started to touch me, or rather my arm. (Yes, I’m dispensing with anonymity for the moment!) Touching me one time, in the course of telling a funny story is excusable; twice, one more time during another story, understandable maybe… but three times! with the third being a full arm extended rub up and down to comfort my lost ability to perform in front of a crowd is anything but normal! The sad thing is there was a sick-and-twisted part of me that was flattered by his touch; don’t get me wrong; there is nothing I did to encourage the attention at all! But although there is never any part of me that would ever think an affair with a married person is okay, I still was taken by Tyrone’s charm. However, after the moment of attention has subsided, I still can’t shake the “woe-is-me-always-the-bridesmaid-never-the-bride!” feeling that continues to leave me restless. Still the larger disturbance, from the weekend BBQ, is my wonder at how any man stays faithful and monogamous in any relationship without becoming dead inside?

who needs a man?

Who needs a man when you have a WW 8 point cheese pizza, ¾ bottle of two-buck-chuck vino, a half a container of fat-free BBQ Pringles, and a half a bag of reeses peanut butter bites! Can anyone say emotional eating!?!

Let’s make this fun: a meal that would send any normal person into a food-coma $11.95, finding out an ex is getting married… priceless!