Saturday, December 24, 2005

Christmas time: A time to re-evaluate and rebuild

Merry Christmas everyone!

My ex-husband and I, when we seperated, agreed that we would spend every Christmas together, for the sake of the kids. To all the nay-sayers, who, in the past years said it could not last "forever" I'm happy to prove you wrong. My ex not only invited me over for Christmas Eve dinner, but he is cooking the whole thing! Turkey and all! My gut instinct was to think "Why couldn't you do things like that while we were married?" That thought was fleeting, however. I refuse to get myself stuck in the negative thinking. Instead, I'm so happy he has become a better dad and happier person since seperation, and I'm ever happier we can create an environment for the kids whereby they are not deprived of BOTH of their parents on holidays.

It makes me very sad to see other divorcees who are not as mature as my ex and I, and who, because their marraige could not work out, their kids are deprived of a parental unit, but rather, are forced to accept two parents as distinct units.

I really hope people take this holiday season to reevaluate their own situations. Take this season to stop the bitterness-anger-revenge cycle. It only takes one person to break a cycle, and the benefits (in your kids' lives) will last forever.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Crucify Myself

At least once a month I drive up the my old apartment, and sit and stare at the windows. I close my eyes and imagine myself, at age 19, sitting on a cheap plastic chair with my "boyfriend." I close my eyes and picture walking through the doors of the apartment, the day after getting married. A young bride, 21 years old, and blinded by love, and her groom, at 26 year old go-getter is what I see. I see love I see promise. I close my eyes and see myself, my stomach round. I am 22 years old and pregnant with my daughter. The future is wide open. Life seems perfect.

(Got a kick for a dog beggin' for love. I gotta have my suffering. So that I can have my cross. I know a cat named Easter. He says will you ever learn. You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird.)

Fast forward, eight years later. I am living, again, in the same apartment complex. Yes, I live just 2 buildings down from where all of those memories were made. In eight years I had two children, made 3 moves, built a house, got seperated..and ended up back here.

(Why do we crucify ourselves. Every day I crucify myself. Nothing I do is good enough for you. Crucify myself. Every day I crucify myself. And my heart is sick of being in chains.)

I ask myself, why did I pick HERE? The same apartment complex at which it all started. I live in a major metroplois. There are hundreds of apartment complexes, maybe even thousands, that I could have picked. Why did I pick here? An apartment with an identical layout of the apartment I lived as a newlywed.

Am I giving myself opportunity to sit and stare at that old place of memories?
Am I living here as a vain attempt to capture the past?
Am I here to punish myself for all the dreams that were dreampt up here, but which never came true?

Tonight I sat and stared at that building
And cried
And closed my eyes
And tried to grasp a feeling
A smell
A memory
Anything to regain that feeling od peace and happiness
But none came.


Prior to my "visit" to my old apartment, I went out of my way to go past a hotel.
It was the hotel in which I was raped 4 years ago.
A rape I never realized was "rape" until last year
A rape I blamed myself for
I told myself I deserved it for being at a hotel with a man other than my husband
I told myself I deserved it because I was a tease

I sat in the parking lot and stared at the very hotel door behind which it happened.
I closed my eyes and tried to go back
Tried to change it all
Tried to relive it
Tried to discover it was not really rape
Tried to convince myself it never happened

(I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets. Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets. I've been raising up my hands. Drive another nail in. Just what God needs. One more victim)

It happened.

(I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets. Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets. I've been raising up my hands. Drive another nail in. Got enough guilt to start. My own religion.)

This is my life.



Crucify
by Tori Amos


Every finger in the room is pointing at me
I wanna spit in their faces
Then I get afraid what that could bring
I got a bowling ball in my stomach
I got a desert in my mouth
Figures that my courage would choose to sell out now.

I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Just what God needs
One more victim

Why do we crucify ourselves
Every day I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day I crucify myself
And my heart is sick of being in chains

Got a kick for a dog beggin' for love
I gotta have my suffering
So that I can have my cross
I know a cat named Easter
He says will you ever learn
You're just an empty cage girl if you kill the bird

I've been looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Got enough guilt to start
My own religion

Why do we crucify ourselves
Every day I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day I crucify myself
And my heart is sick of being in chains

Please be
Save me
I cry

Looking for a savior in these dirty streets
Looking for a savior beneath these dirty sheets
I've been raising up my hands
Drive another nail in
Where are those angels
When you need them

Why do we crucify ourselves
Every day I crucify myself
Nothing I do is good enough for you
Crucify myself
Every day I crucify myself

And my heart is sick of being in chains
Why do we ...
... chains ...
Crucify ourselves
Everyday
Never going back again
Crucify myself again
You know
Never going back again to
Crucify myself
Everyday


Saturday, December 17, 2005

Many Colors of Racism

Racism is a sensitive topic in the United States. However, some events have happened to me in the last week that have made me inclined to blog about my views on race relations.

I am a white woman in the United States.
I honestly do not "see color" when it comes to relating with other people.

I regard myself as a completely non-racist individual. I am not going to go on-and-on to prove this here. Suffice it to say, my very best friend is African American, and her daughter is my God Daughter. I have dated men of all races, all religions, all creeds. My friends are all different colors of the rainbow.

Last night I went to a highschool basketball game. A good friend of mine is a teacher at the school, and he is the coach of the team. This particular school is 80% minority. My friend informed me that 90% of the school's population are eligible for reduced or free school lunch, an indication that the school is in a lower socio-economic class area. The basketball team at this school is one of the best in the area. This was to be a very important game.

The "away" team was from an area which I am familiar. The area is a middle to upper-middle class area. Many young doctors, lawyers, accountants buy their first house in this area. Also in this area live many upwardly-mobile blue-collared workers. It is suburbia at its purest.

I enter the packed gym. Coming from a small town in the country, I am surprised by two things. First, the sheer amount of people at this game - literally in the thousands. Second, I'm surprised by the amount of security at thi game. I had to go through two metal detectors to enter, and it appears that the entire cities police force is there, numbering over 50 officers.

My friend spots me. He points me to the "home" team bleachers, and nonchalently tells me not to go back outside, because there have been shootings at a few games this season in the parking lots. I guess he is desensitized. I am panicing.

I walk up to the "home" bleachers. I am literally the only white person on this side of the gym. This fact alone bothers me not in the least. I sit down towards the front.

Almost immediately, I hear racial slurs sailing from above me. "Reverse racial Slurs" Racial slurs aimed at me. A number of teenage boys approach me and start saying sexually explicit comments along the lines of

"Have you ever had a black cock, pretty thing?"

I respond:

"You are young enough to be my son."

My friend, who as I mentioned before is a teacher at this school (one of the only non-minority teachers, may I add), sees the problems I'm having. My friend gets along with his students well. He walks over, makes it clear to the individuals in the bleachers that I'm with him, and walks away.

For a while the harassment stops.

I observe the "away" team on the other side of the gym. As I had expected, the group is racially diverse. Groups of young ladies and gentlemen, white, black, Hispanic, asian, sit side by side by side.

The game soon starts. during the pleadge of allegiance, my side of the bleachers hoots and hollars. they "BOO" the other team's cheerleaders.

During the first quarter, food starts to get thrown onto the court by member's of the "home team". I get hit in the head by a hotdog.

I had enough of the throwing, the cursing, the lewd behavior, the harassment.

I got up and went to the "away" side of the bleachers. I enjoyed the rest of the game over there, and actually met some really nice people, despite the fact I was "cheeering" for a different team then them.

After the game, my coach friend said to me, sarcastically:

"You couldn't sit with 'my kids? You had to be with your 'own kind'?"

I did not respond.

My "move" had nothing to do with race!"


Second scenerio. Today I was studying in my apartment. My downstairs neighbor, a young African-American woman, is BLASTING rap music. This is the same neoghbor who says my disabled son "Walks too loudly" and bothers her. After an hour of this horrid music, the base of which was making my brain vibrate, I go down to ask her to turn the music down.

OK, I was pissed.
OK, I'm a little short on temper, because I'm trying to study for finls
OK, I already dislike this woman.

"Can you please turn down that NOISE." I say
"What noise?" She responds, sarcastically
"The noise you obviously think qualifies as music."
"You can't make me turn it down just becaue you don't like my music." she responds
"I'm sick of you people." I respond, storming away.
"And i'm sick of you. RACIST." he yells as I walk away.

My comment had NOThiNG to do with race, but rather inconsiderate persons!


The third scerio is somewhat subtler. I was at a club with my best friend. My best friend is African-American, and she is an attorney. We were at a club that was predominately black. A good-looking black man approaches me, and asks:

"Do you date black me."
"Of course I do." I say in flity tone
"If they prove worthy."
Then I add:
"Why would you ever thing I was racist? My 'sister' is African American."
He responds:
"Oh, C (my best friend) She's not REALLY black."

This is most racist comment I've ever heard! I did not even repeat it to C, she'd be so upset. The implication was that because she was educated, had multi-cultural friends, and dated men of all races and worked in a white-dominated profession, she was not "black.

That implication makes me nauseous.


I am tired of minorities "dividing" the world into "Black and White" or "Us and Them" then calling me a racist for THEIR prejudices.

I am tired of minorities who blame every difference of opinion on the other party being "racist"

Most of all, I'm tired of being "excluded" by persons of other races, just to be called "racist" for these divisions THEY created.

I DO NOT SEE COLOR.

DO YOU?



Thursday, December 15, 2005

From the mouths of babes

Picture This:

Kinky Catholic Lawyer on laptop on couch, studying
Her daughter hovering around
Her daughter brings out pet hamster
Hamster is running all over KCL's computer
All over KCL's arms.

KCL says to daughter:

"Get this hamster off of me, I'm busy."

Hamster runs up my leg.

KCL's daughter says to hamster:

"Don't go there"

(signaling up my leg, in the direction of my crouch)

"That's the secret cave of chaos."



If she only knew.

Early Morning

It is early right now. 6:35AM to be exact.

I hate the mornings. Let me rephrase that. 6:35 is a glorious time, when you've been up all night. It's still dark out. Darkness is full of possibilities. darkness is void of reponsibilities. Darkness is calm. I would live during darkness, if I could so chose.

And let the truth be known, I have been living in the darkness. Both figuratively and literally. I have been sleeping, many days lately, from 5Am-2PM. This is not workable. My whole life is being effected by my preverse love of the night.

A few days ago I made a conscious effort to get myself back onto what the world calls a "normal" sleep schedule. even though it qualifies as anything but normal to me. My body is resisting. I have been getting up at a "socially acceptable" time of 7AM, and every day around 1 or PM I become direly exausted. But I stay busy. I do not succomb to mid-day naps.

Two nights ago, I took 3 tylenol PM at 9:00PM and finally fell asleep around 3AM. I woke up with this anxious feeling at 7:00. last night I forced myself to bed at 1AM, and layed there staring at the wall untill, now.

Now it's 6:45AM.
Not the good 6:45AM
The bad 6:45AM

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Have a terrible Christmas, you insignificant moron

I have become mean lately.

I really do not know what my issue is.

Mean and arrogant.

Sometimes I can not believe things I'm saying are coming out of my mouth.

I actually yelled at a bouncer at a club a few weeks ago:

"Do you know who I am, you wanna-be actor."

I have been saying things to people just to hurt them.

This really is not me, or is it?

I am going to be a lawyer in less than 9 months. I feel as if I've been trampled upon, spat upon, looked down at, talked down to, patronized, laughed at, used, and demoralized for 30 years.

And now, I'm finally proving myself to the world.

At 30, I've never had a job. Never had a career. Never had anything to make me anything.

Now I have something.

But I still feel nothing.

And I hate the world. I hate you and you and you and you. Because, I've proven myself. I've made something of myself. I've accomplished something.

And still I am nothing.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Functioning

I am functioning.

It's as if I am going through the motions, propelled by some invisible force.

That force is not me.
I am not strong enough to be that force.
Nor is that force anyone else.
Because I am functionally alone right now.

My life has been a mix of incredible dysfuction mixed with spurts of hyper-productivity.

I write and file a 25 page appellate brief.
Then I spend 3 days on couch playing online poker and losing my rent money.
I give a spectacular presentation in criminal procedure class about Alford pleas.
Then spend 3 days "partying", not sleeping not eating for 3 days straight.
I get highest praise from the BIG BOSS at work
Then go to T's house at 3AM and spend 4 hours engaged in very rough and demeaning sex
I bake cupcakes and surprise my son at school for his birthday
Then I spend all night at some strip club, making out with strange dancers and bouncers

All my accomplishments seem to be balnced with an equally damaging, dysfunctional activity.

Overachieving - Rough Sex - Hard Work - Drugs - Good Parenting - Obsessive Gambling.

Am I functioning?

Yes, I am functioning, in a very dysfunctional way.

My dysfunction has become so intertwined with my daily life that I know

I can never go back.