Microwave Protocol & toxic waste in my office

I was in the CNM cafeteria today for a nice 2 o'clock lunch. Didn't really feel like dealing with crazy sandwich lady today so I settled for a prepackaged lunch of odwalla Tangerine!, fruit, and mac-and-cheese.

Very telling of the rest of CNM, there is only one very old microwave in the cafeteria. I opened it's door to find someone else's tv dinner. Looked around for several seconds. Done!, it kept flashing. So, I took it out. With a napkin, I carefully layed it on top of the microwave and put mine in for 1.5 min. Noone was coming to claim this sad excuse for a meal. Pressed start. Found a table. Set my things down. Turn around to supervise my meal, unlike some, and there she was. The owner. Walk to the microwave.


"It wasn't done," she said in a bitchy defensive way as I stared at my own meal that had been removed from the microwave while still cooking. Visions of pushing her down, snatching her stupid fucking weight-watchers-piece-of-shit meal out of the microwave and throwing it down were dancing through my head as I reminded myself that I was faculty.

A girl that had come up after me offered for me to go in front of her. I decided that I'd go back to my office and use my own. You know, stop pretending to be a student.

So when I get back, these three huge ass guys come in to inspect this drum of potentially hazardous material that has been in this office since I was a student here. Noone knows what's in it. Noone knows where it came from...and an analysis costs $1000. I'm not sticking my nose in it, but I want it out. Whoever thought it was a good idea to use this office as a storage unit for waste material should be fired...and perhaps was since noone seems to know where it came from.

Boo. I miss the girls.

2008 Comes to a crashing Hault, Head on Collision with 2009...

Although 2008 had good intentions, it hasn't exactly been a walk in the park.

I ended the semester with "mixed reviews" from my students, haven't seen the girls in I-don't-know-how-long, hospital visits, sleepless nights, incompetent co-workers, and hurting loved ones. By the time Christmas rolled around I was pissed off, exhausted and decompressing badly. Needless to say my Christmas day ended with a long bout of crying into Chris's arms.

After spending around 9 hours in the ER yesterday to find out that the nausea/blackout/dizzy/scary spell at 430am was classified off the bat as a panic attack, I realized how physically alone I am. BTW, my parents did an amazing job of putting up with me. With Chris 14 light years, I mean hours on the other side of the world, and the girls in California, I'm left with what I thought I wanted in the first place...alone time. It sucks. Too much time to think can be a bad thing.

Thinking of what 2008 has meant to me fills me with that same nauseous feeling and I become filled with doubt and guilt. In an attempt not to let the whole year go down as "That one year" or "The shitty year" I'd like to list 5 things that happened that have been good things.

5. An historical election. Here's to an African American who won on his own merit. Let us not have faith in him but guide him as a leader. Here's to OJ Simpson getting the time he deserved. No two men are the same. Judging people by skin color/sexual preference/whatever is just plain narrow minded.

4. My job. As incompetent as some of my co-workers are, I am truly grateful for my job. It allows me that satisfied teacher feeling as well as allowing me to be an autonomous human being with my own apartment. I have grown tremendously as a person in some of the areas I was lacking because of this opportunity and I appreciate it greatly. And here's to getting my temporary Director position extended through the end of Summer term. Here's to knowing that I can pay my bills tomorrow.

3. My parents talk to me. Don't think that's any small thing. This time just a couple of years ago they weren't. I might still be the "bad child" but at least I have my parents back. You don't know how much they mean until you find that they aren't willing to be there for you any more. Here's to my parents for putting up with me. Thanks for getting up at 430 in the morning to hold my hand and the puke bucket for me. And thanks to my brother for always picking the right CD for me.

2. To failed attempts. Some things should not be done successfully and if you know what they are be thankful they weren't. Thank God all three of you failed.

1. Here's to forgiveness. I may or may not deserve it, but I got a lot of it this year. Don't think I'm going to go squandering it either. I've learned hard lessons that will make me better. Hopefully I can give back what I have received in love, loyalty, compassion, laughter, trust, gratefulness, openness, oneness...And here's to all the friends that stood by to lend a hand, an ear, or a beer.

And of course, drum roll please........My resolutions:

1. No more lies
2. Cut down on swearing
3. Keep communication open and free-flowing
4. Save money
5. Take steps toward traveling
6. Complete at least a 7th triathlon
7. Make a concerted effort to help out
8. Take steps toward opening my own business
9. Stop living as though I don't deserve happiness
10. Love to the fullest and give back what I have received

Don't worry

We all have a lie...

Pondering Negotiations and Unspoken Agreements

I thought I was paying attention as I was staring at the flashing school lights, but then I saw the crossing guard...the word slow on his sign making no sense to me. He whisled his whisle as a slammed on my brakes to slow down finally realizing where I was.

My own love list

I found a new picture that I had never seen before. Attached to it was a love list. A list of things you love without attaching those things to any certain person. It is supposed to help you figure out who you are. Guess what. I just so happen to be trying to do just that very thing. So here goes...

I love that there are too many truths to see to a given story. I love being sore after a really nice workout. I love sharing yoga with my students. I love that anyone can choose to be my student. I love that certain things just come easy to me and I don't have to understand why. I love the feeling of stretching after sex. I love coming home knowing that the only thing I'm going to do before bed is soak in tub of semi-hot water. I love that I have a ton of shit to do tomorrow that I absolutely have to get done. I love being needed.


I love when I forget to eat. I love running when the only thing I can think about is the sound of my shoes hitting the ground and the feeling of my lungs expanding and contracting. I love making something simple to eat for me and only me nobody else. I love speaking jibberish that no one else understands. I love finding that person, those people who understand. I love my kind of crazy. I love that hope means that I have already failed, that I should have put in the work instead of wasting time hoping.

I love using my body in as many different ways as I can and have still more to try. I love smiling into someone's eyes and having them know exactly what I mean. I love being naked as much as possible whenever possible. I love when I have no idea what someone is saying but having it make sense later when I am alone. I love forgetting all together that I have a cell phone. I love making someone's day just that much easier or happier or better. I love that my sub-conscious mind is much smarter than I am. I love making people laugh uncomfortably because they know I mean it. I love my ass. I love memorizing all the words to rap because of I have no idea why and I love that too. I love that I am scared shitless to find out who I am but I am still making this small attempt at it.

An indirect Quote

Life is like a box of dark chocolate nugety glass. You know you're going to get hurt.

A rare dream

In general my dreams are as stupid as everything I say and as mixed up as everything I think when I am awake. No big deal. I usually can't remember much and even when I do none of it makes sense or I'm simply falling or paralized or blind...

Last night summed up all of the reasons I've never lived alone. I came into my apartment at about 11pm quite tired after swimming and yoga. My eyes just wouldn't focus and my halls and lighting are set up in a way that they invite strange shadows and flickers, etc. If you aren't paying attention you may see "movement" (eg light and shadows from windows, etc.) out of the corner of your eye. I checked the shower as I have done all my life when I stay alone, as if checking it would make the monster go away before the curtain was opened. I made sure that when I re-opened the mirrored medicine cabinet that I didn't look directly into the mirror. I crawled as deep into my covers as possible before turning off the last light and imagined what it would be like if I actually believed in ghosts.

During the night I was restless. Kept waking up because something else on my body would fall asleep or my heart would do something weird, at least I thought it was...

The details of the dream are hard to come by, but I distinctly remember starting to bring seemingly random items into a room. Then it all started to come to me...I had been bringing very closely related items into the room and knew that upon the last trip with the last items in my hands I would complete the link to the other side...I walked into the room with something in my right hand and a baby on my left hip. No telling who's baby it was. As I entered a horrifying figure appeared at flickered as a lightening bolt would infront of me. I basically jumped out of my sleep body's skin. I left the room to bring the baby to safety and re-entered the room alone. The same figure reappeared infront of me. When I left again the baby was lost. My father kept asking me what had happened to the baby. I didn't know. I didn't leave her in the room.

It seems to me that our minds put together seemingly random things into the disconnected show that make up our dreams. My feeling is that our brains have made neural connections between certain thoughts and those pathways of our subconcious mind have suddenly been opened while we dream. When I remember my dreams I like to take note of any connections I can still bring forth into my concious mind. Because that's what our concious mind does...it tries to make sense of stimuli that make very little real sense at all.

Who was that little baby? Why was she the last link? Why did I enter the room twice when I was really scared and knew what was going to happen? Why do our dreams fade away so quickly? I am left to ponder these questions during yet another night alone in my new apartment.