BruiseFit much?

It’s only been about a week and a half that we have been gym-ing…

I’ve attended eight classes in the past nine days, taking two days off over the weekend…

Today, throughout the day, I kept finding new marks and bruises on various parts of my body…

I have no idea when or how specifically I obtained these bruises – the cuts and scrapes I know – but I am guessing that they all have the same locational origin: the gym.

I wonder how many more I’ll find tomorrow, and how much worse the already found ones will be…

As for the most recent discovery just barely below my elbow, on my back arm, directly where I usually place my arm onto a desk or a table (That’s how I discovered it in the first place, putting pressure on it via a tabletop, and suddenly withdrawing in pain.) it has already gone 3-D since I first discovered it.

Yikes…

What a life this is… ūüėõ

Post-a-day 2019

Get a handle

I broke my new (to me) car today.  Okay, well, a part of it.  The car was parked on a street whose sides really sloped downward Рand I mean a lot.  When I went to open the driver door, after unlocking it, the door opened just slightly, before my hand flew towards me, and the door slammed back shut.  The handle had broken.

And so, at least until I find a bonding agent – aka glue – that will hold well enough to stick the broken underside of the driver handle into place – hey, I wonder if that’s the issue with the other door – , I’ll have to do what I did this afternoon and tonight, and enter my vehicle from the passenger front door, because now both doors on the driver side won’t open from the outside (but the back seat door came that way when I received the car, so that wasn’t my doing).

Add that to the duct tape, and I am an image in blue 2002.

I mean, talk about ghetto – I’m getting there faster than ever anticipated (which was never!). ¬†Haha.

Post-a-day 2018

Satisfaction… at last

Tonight, going to bed, I feel fulfilled. ¬†Typically, I have this feeling of needing to go¬†do something before I can end my day. ¬†I am angsty and somewhat agitated by the late afternoon, and I feel this pull from somewhere inside of me, but I can’t ever quite figure out how to follow it, how to satisfy the desire within. ¬†I notice right now that I almost didn’t even feel a pull to write anything tonight – that’s how satisfied I am with my day. ¬†It was fabulous, and so I can sleep easily, without anything else happening first. ¬†And I love writing, so that’s saying something.

Kids were unintentional rude in classes today, ignoring my pleas for quite voices, so that I could be heard with my pained, achy throat barely able to choke out words. ¬†I let them spend the time with an activity for their own benefit, and most of them ignored it or didn’t care enough about their own education to attempt the activity, which was disappointing. ¬†A few really took it on, and some decided it was time to talk with me about anything and everything in my life, while I showed them how to do some of the work. ¬†It was an odd balance of awesome and disappointing, combined with my throat being slightly consumed by a low-grade fire.

After school, I chatted with a few teachers from my own high school, plus a friend who now teaches there. ¬†That was amazing in and of itself. ¬†Add to it that I met up with a friend for tapioca tea afterward, and my day continues to improve. ¬†We ended up having dinner with the teas, and then she invited me to join a hip-hop class with her. ¬†Neither of us has ever been very good or experienced with hip-hop, but we love dancing, and we both have strong partner dance backgrounds. ¬†I have wanted to do hip-hop classes ever since my best friend and her husband started doing some over in England a few years back, because she is just plain awesome, and it is always a good idea to strive for her level of awesome. ¬†So I got to be cool like my bestie tonight, and turned out to be actually kind of good at the routine, too. ¬†The teacher even came specifically to my friend (not my best friend, but the friend with whom I had gone to the class) and me, and told us that she wanted us to join her team. ¬†(Note: Seeing as we were¬†just discussing before the class how we hadn’t been involved in anything dance since moving back to the US (we both just returned from living in Asia), we are genuinely considering this hip-hop team idea.)

Now, I am home. ¬†I snacked on some leftovers from dinner, chatted briefly with my mom, and have just showered. ¬†I am tired, but in a really good way right now – I am satisfied. ¬†I don’t know how else to word it. ¬†I am just satisfied, which is something, I now see, that I usually am not at the end of the day. ¬†As I said to my teacher friend earlier this afternoon, I need interaction with non-teenagers. ¬†I get so much teenager interaction, and very little of anything else… and I¬†need more than just interaction with teenagers, no matter how wonderful they are or how much we may love one another. ¬†And, tonight, I got that other interaction, plus involvement in something (the hip-hop class)¬†and exercise. ¬†That is a really, really good combination. ¬†Now to see how to keep this up, happening much more often than once every three months.

Post-a-day 2017

It really is all relative

Tonight, I was reminded of a girl I met, while I was living in Toulouse, France. ¬†She was in school (high school, I believe), and doing a temporary internship at the place where I was doing my volunteering. ¬†She was from a small country that was at war (and it might still be, but I haven’t kept up with the news). ¬†She had a boyfriend and a baby of her own, in addition to a younger sister, I believe. ¬†She taught me much.

What I was discussing with my mom tonight is how relative things are in life. ¬†Just as in Aesop’s last fable today, with the bunny rabbits about to drown themselves in their exhaustion of living in fear, and suddenly discovering the frogs at the pond afraid of them, causing them to realize that someone had it worse off than they did, so is life. ¬†No matter what one’s struggles and turmoils, there’s always someone worse off. ¬†And I feel like our turmoils and struggles are saddening next to the real turmoils and struggles of other parts of the world. ¬†This girl spoke to me about her country of origin, and how they moved to France. ¬†And, when she spoke about it all, it were as though she were telling me about a class project, or how she went grocery shopping yesterday. ¬†Those, however, were not the subject matter. ¬†What I remember most of her story, is how people broke into her house one day/night, beat up her parents (and possibly her, too), and then took her father. ¬†Her family tried offering money as a ransom for her father’s return, but no information was even received regarding her father – they never found out if he even was alive or dead, or who had taken him. ¬†Just some men, she’d said.

I mean it that it were as though she were telling me about what she did yesterday after work/school. ¬†She was not sad in her words, nor was she hauntingly depressed in her eyes or spirit. ¬†She was living life as I was, and merely sharing about something. ¬†‘Yeah, I don’t know where Josh went after dinner, but he left. ¬†We called him, but never got a response. ¬†Maybe he went home, instead of coming for coffees with us.’ ¬†That’s was the easiness with which she spoke – no premeditation or practice. ¬†It was just what’s so, and so that was how she told it.

I say a prayer for the world tonight.

Post-a-day 2017

A hug of love

Tonight, at an event, I came across a student whom I taught for a grand total of eight days, and whom I haven‚Äôt seen since those couple months ago.  When she saw me, her delight was noticeable instantly, and her desire to hug me was almost palpable – she was almost shaking with the anticipation and desire, similar to a puppy wagging its tail as it waits desperately to be pet and loved on by its human.  When she saw that I was okay with her hugging me, we hugged.  It was a real hug, and not the common ‚Äėmeh‚Äô version that feels like a required pleasantry instead of a genuine gesture of care for someone.  She cared, and it was for me.

I almost began to tear up, but for the intense joy and ease that filled me and flowed out of me afterward.  In that teaching job, I was incredibly myself with the students, and this was the kind of impact I left after only a single week.  This impact, where a student can hardly wait to hug me upon sighting me, and declares fervently, ‚ÄúWe miss you,‚ÄĚ despite our having not seen one another in months, was clearly a powerful one.  And I am grateful for the grace and strength I had to provide it in being myself.  I was truly honored tonight.

Post-a-day 2017

…holding out for a (anger) management position…

“The thing about giving yourself a pep talk is that secretly you know it’s all bullshit.”
That’s a quote from a Sophie Kinsella book (Remember Me?, I think).  Today has kind of been a day where I got to live it.  Though, since I already knew this, any effort to give myself a pep talk was dropped almost before I started.  It’s not that I actually think life as I know or want it is coming to an end – indeed, the good stuff has only just begun.  But knowing that has almost no effect on the feelings of total misery and hopelessness that arise when I hit places like my current one.  Sure, I accept then, thank the feelings for sharing, and then move on to what’s next, but they really do suck when they’re busy hanging around.

I have been experiencing another one of these odd feelings of waiting lately.  It is as though there is a set amount of time I must go before I find a job again, and then, after that time period, everything will fall into place perfectly, and the waiting will have been totally worth the misery.

However, when I get these feelings, I always have to take a first step, be proactive somehow, in order for things to fall into place.  As I see myself growing more angry and on-edge each day, I find it more and more difficult to do anything productive, anything that could help with that first step.  I even have some plans for that step, yet here I lie, miserable and without having taken any action for them today.  I guess I would have to give up the idea that this isn’t where I want to be right now, living at my mom’s.  I moved out years ago, intentionally, and had no intentions of returning for residency.  Not for desire to be independent or anything of the sort, but because I don’t want to live the lifestyle of this house… at all.  Nor do I want to be treated like a kid again, as my mother does automatically most of the time whenever I am here.  Any time she has visited me in my own home, or anywhere else when I’ve not been living with her, she has treated me differently.  Sure, she’s always still a mom, and fussed at me for this or that.  However, it is not like how a parent talks to a child, how it is now.

Anyway, I have some things to get started with doing.  I want to live elsewhere, and yet here I am – this is what is available to me currently.  I want a good job that I love, and here am I, without employment.  So, little by little, I guess I have some steps to take, including figuring out what they are.  I know I’ll be all right, I really do.  It has just been mentally rough lately, and I so want to be finished with this near-constant anger, annoyance, and sense of hopelessness.  Guess it’s well about time I chat with Jude, hmm?  (I’ll start there, and see what I can brainstorm in that mental conversation.)
P.S. Bonus points to you, if you know what movie helped to inspire the title of this post.  It’s a family favorite of ours.  My cat even watched it with me after I first got him.  And he really did watch it.  It was kind of weird that he did, really, but also totally cute.

Post-a-day 2017

More days-of-the-week underwear fun

Tonight, I put on my TUESDAY underwear after my shower. ¬†While I actually did believe today to be Tuesday at one point earlier on in the day, that was not my reason for doing this. ¬†I considered them for a few moments as I stood over my suitcase, and then reached down and grabbed them with intention. ¬†I’m not certain how to put it, really. ¬†It was, in part, a representation of my distaste for today’s events (and therefore today) and my rejection of today (in a sense), and, in part, my rejection of the standards of days-of-the-week underwear as a means of rebelling against something that feels to be beyond my control with my current experience of time and the specific days of this week. ¬†Also, things were much more hopeful on Tuesday. ¬†Tuesday was a good day this week and last.

Today was the bad one. ¬†Although, to be fair, a lot of good has come out of the ending section of today – lots of love, especially. ¬†When Snapchat (which I don’t even use) and the concern of looking good (someone else’s concern) knock you in the face, it’s really nice to have love show up and remind you that you are great, and that those ideas have no bearing on the situation.

 

Post-a-day 2017

And Unexpected Story From… Somewhere

Tonight, for whatever reason (aside from the part where one thought links loosely to the next, those tiny threads of ideas drawing¬†you quickly along the ever-unexpected path with¬†them, until¬†you eventually find yourself miles from the original thought, wondering how on Earth you got there), I was reminded of something I wrote a while back. ¬†As I mentioned to my friend when I sent it to her, it is rather messy, and it just kind of came out of me. ¬†One day, the¬†words were just in my head, as though urging me to write them down, and so I did really quickly… It was almost like an ‘I have to do it now’ experience.

I have various theories as to how the story came to me, as well as to why my mind wanted me to write it down on paper (yes, the original is with paper and pen, not computer), but I find them unnecessary to include here, as none of them was present when I actually had the story pouring out of me that odd morning (odd, due to this near-overwhelming necessity to write this story, which had never quite happened to me in such a way until that day).

Anyway, it is sad – dreadfully sad to me, anyway – and it is terrible, and it is a miniature story that asked me to write it down, and somehow got back into my head tonight to get me to share it with the world (well, whatever portion of it will cross this weblog posting, at least). ¬†Enjoy… or whatever… you know…

 


“No,” declared Jessica, exasperated, “I’m not going to call him.”

Yet, even as she spoke, she knew deep down that she would be with him again. ¬†So she wouldn’t call him…, but she’d said nothing about texting. ¬†Or his calling her.

Soon enough, perhaps in a matter of hours, she’d be with him again. ¬†And then, in a matter of minutes, she’d be lying there alone, feeling gross, almost wanting to hurl. ¬†Or else hurl something… he wouldn’t hold her, no matter how she wished it. ¬†He never did… ¬†But, for a few moments, she would feel the pressure of him resting on her chest, and it almost would feel as though it were intentional, as though there were someone – right here and now – who wanted to be with her, who cared for her, who loved her.

Though she knew it wasn’t so.

“This is so messed up,” she would say to him… ¬†And she would mean it.

And yet she couldn’t stop herself.

He was in need, and she could help.  Besides, she had been curious in the first place.  Now she knew.  Perhaps that was a good thing.  If nothing else.  And an icy feeling told her there was nothing else good about it all.

Jessica wouldn’t see how he only appeared to be in need – she was too trusting of him and his word; she had looked up to him for too long to question what he expressed to her. ¬†And so, in her time of extreme need for love, she would leave the love of her friends to go to him, and be robbed of what little she still had, knowingly sacrificing her own happiness and love to help, to serve, to please another.


 

Post-a-day 2017