I tried OkCupid, and you know, it drove me crazy.
I couldn't stay on there for more than two days before feeling like this
annoying, cackling leprechaun was constantly poking at my arm with a tree
branch. I thought I would at least feel better about myself, but those shallow
days are gone. Feeling desired isn't the issue anymore. It's just so easy,
really, regardless of how one looks. Love, though, takes so much longer, and
once you've had even a taste of it, nothing less compares. All you want is to
make breakfast with someone, over and over again.
I freaking love fireworks, and why anyone wouldn't
is a mystery I don't care to comprehend. Every time it happens is like the
first time, and I am left astounded. And this year, we got to shoot off our own
with names like One Big Motha or Diablo. They took up the entire sky above me,
and I felt their ashes raining down on my hair. I ignited a few small ones. The
rush of when the wick catches the flame, fizzing, and you run as it shoots up!
And laughing with everyone, watching the little ones discover this wonder.
Sometimes I have trouble deciding what to write
Brazil's heart-stopping, soul-crushing defeat to
Germany in the World Cup semifinals? Yeah, that's worth a lot of words. At
dinner, it was all we talked about. And it will be talked about by many,
probably for decades to come.
After the third goal, I wanted to yell. After the
fifth goal, my emotions overwhelmed me. I wanted to be there, run onto the
field, and beg for them to end this horrifying game. I wanted to turn the game
off or run away, but I just curled up into a ball.
Did you know that there was a time when people
thought secretly? We weren't all so connected and telepathy was merely a
far-fetched dream of the future. No one could hear what anyone else was
Unimaginable! You'd look at a person and hear…
nothing? How could you trust anyone? How did people get along?
Surely, they didn't! But they did communicate –
ancient methods: writing, speaking…
So thoughts formed separately before they
Formed together. Exactly.
What a waste of time.
Which is better? They could think without feeling
embarrassed… the thoughts you could have…
Careful now. Mind your thoughts, friend.
Since I'm taking a classical dance workshop in a
few days, and I haven't danced in years, I’m going back over some old dance
videos. Oh, the personalities! When you're young, and thus awkward, and on
stage, personalities just jump, pour, and bounce out. The girls who thought
they were hot shit (prima donnas), the ones who really do not want to be up
there, the ones who are trying to get by, the ones who are quietly but simply
good, etc. The ones you looked up to, the ones who your eyes still go to
because they had it!
I'm seeing myself in 1999. Oh, the attitude I
had. I was one of those girls who did not want to be up there. Other classmates
were quite good and they never showed that kind of attitude, but for some
reason, my dance teacher singled me out the first year, when I seven, and kept
pushing and pushing. No one, other than my parents, have yelled at me as much
as my dance teacher. After the first few years, I was done. Didn't even know if
I wanted to be good, as is apparent by my embarrassingly infantile stage
Somehow, things turned around. My heart finally
understood what there was to love about it, and my teacher took this as the signal
to put more time and energy into me, to shape me into a dancer better than
most. People started to know me too. Even now, Indians I've never met will tell
me they know me and say something about their daughters. It happens less now
because I haven't danced in so long, but it's the closest I've ever come to
Now, for my teacher, I'm taking this workshop. I'm
scared of disappointing, as I surely will.
You've got on your sports bra, your dark-rimmed
teacher glasses, your hair in a ponytail. “You're a fucking badass,” you tell
yourself, as the pain hits you again. The funny thing about acute pain is that
it always takes you by surprise, no matter how many times and how often you've experienced
the exact same thing. “You just have to get to the sink,” you tell yourself. Attempting
to do anything while in pain is a challenging exercise in multi-tasking. But
you make it, you always make it. You look in the mirror for reassurance. The
pain, again, in waves.
No matter how ready you think you are, you are
never ready for intense, acute pain. Never, ever, ever. Pain tolerance is for
the chronic kind. With acute pain, you need your mental strength as much for
the third wave as for the first.
Between waves, I wonder:
How would others react? Would they cry? Go mad?
Stay in the hospital – fruitlessly? Or would they say their own pain is worse?
Is heartbreak worse?
get some more help. Not opioids because I'd be using them multiple times
a year and possibly become dependent. I've been thinking about counseling –
learning how to strengthen my mind against pain, a mind over matter approach.
Unfortunately, I have received loads of crappy counseling in the past (one
woman randomly asked if people thought I was black… I mean, the fuck), it's
expensive, and it uses up precious time. Also, my parents think I can fight the
pain without it. They've never seen me crying on the bathroom floor though.
(And they never will.) Tramadol to hell!