- Oh, I knew that guy when he had feet.
- Huh? He has no feet?
- Lost them to frostbite one winter. Now he's got those bizarre black flippers they designed for those para-Olympic runners.
- No way!
- Un-huh. One very cold day, he wore thin socks and walked all the way home, like an hour or two, despite the pain. He couldn't be bothered to take the transit or call a cab.
- That is a costly mistake.
- Says he prefers it them. His feet were just a hassle for him. Always too smelly, too hairy. I think they grossed out his wife.

Rather a simpleton, is what I'd say I am. A current facination with a subway station closed for half a century, when expressed makes some think I am a bit mad. It is a symbol, for me, of things that have been going on in my life for a long time now.

You think you know. You pass through it everyday. You get off the subway upstairs from it for a couple of years. But, you really don't know. You don't know it is there. There is another lower plane hiding until revealed. I must capture it before its gone.

I'm that gal that just doesn't care what others think of my body. I am that woman in the change room who doesn't hide in one of the curtained off cubicles when she is changing clothes. It all comes off and then on goes my swimsuit. I'm very comfortable naked. There are those out there that can attest to this fact.

The sense of shame that others have is something I don't feel. Perhaps it was the way I was raised, where nudity was natural. I know that this vessel will never be perfect and the cubicles are always full.

He said to me, "I think you have a problem with authority. You can see it with certain bosses that you've had. You just can't seem to give in and do it their way."

While I won't deny that I've had problems working with some of my bosses, I wouldn't say I have a problem with authority. I just don't want to be micromanaged or have someone who knows nothing about my day to day job dipping their oar in.

If only I owned a gun. Then I could go postal when it all got to be too much.

The first boy I kissed is the one I dream of most often. Rarely do I dream of my father. Never have I dreamt of my grandfather. Boyfriends or lovers, I dream of at the beginning of the relationship, but then not at all.

I have dreamt about my husband. I've had dreams with him fucking me, even when he is there lying asleep beside me. In these dreams he can never make me come. In sex dreams I never come.

A faceless man has frequented my dreams only twice. He is always a harbinger of change in my relationships.

"Did you get invited to Dad's wedding yet?" We joke back and forth. "Nope! Not yet! I guess we're not going!" Secretly, I was hoping I wouldn't get invited. I could really hate him for that slight. I could say, "Fucker didn't invite me to his wedding! What a shithead father I have!"

When the phone rang, I thought it was about the grant proposal I was writing. "Hi! It's your Dad! I've decided to get remarried."

At home all the emotions hit me. I shook, cried and almost threw up. How can he marry HER?!

Just a little routine

Dream
Up with the radio, shower, breakfast, masturbation
Dress yourself (always colours to enhance the red hair), something funky
Car. Drive. Accelerate. Brake. Signal, check blind spot, change lanes. Repeat. Park.
Trudge up the stairs to office
Trudge downstairs to get coffee
Log-in open various programs
Work. Work. Work.
Insert lunch time activity or inactivity here.
Work. Work. Work.
Trudge downstairs to car
Drive. Accelerate. Brake. Signal, check blind spot, change lanes. Repeat. Park.
Home, bound upstairs
Dinner, wash dishes, chat
TV, movie
Surf, play game
Play and/or snuggle with the cat
Off to bed
Dream

Water I

I never wanted to be a sailor, but I love to sail. Boats and I both flow with the water. In the house near the river I could hear the deep horns of the lakers sound as they passed under the bridge, each night as I lay in bed. Daytime, I would take my camera and sit on the dry yellow grass by the river to photograph those boats as they hauled their cargo across the Great Lakes.

The big boats, I would call them. Wanna go down to the river and watch the big boats with me?

The Movie Quiz

Pictures from different movies with hands and faces edited out. Got 44 on my own. 53 combined with answers from my friend. Remaining are perplexing. Frustrating. These are the ones that I know I have not seen. A picture needs a reference or it is useless apart from its aesthetic qualities.

I stare and stare. I should know this! The answer will come. The picture will make sense. What is the key? What is the key? Guess. Wrong. Guess again. Wrong. Come on! I have to get them all.

Wait, you are still missing two as well?!

With some folks there is just a natural rhythm to a relationship. My former classmate and I picked up almost exactly where we left off six or seven years ago, though virtually this time, rather than face-to-face. With my childhood friend it is as tenuous and tentative as it was all those decades ago. Differences and similarities. Slowly discovering and revealing our adult selves. Meeting new people, some you click with automatically, some you'll never progress beyond the awkwardness of your first impression. Older friends that you out grow as your life changes are friendships I wish I could save.

"Don't worry honey, you're strong! You'll be alright." Unemotional response means she didn't understand. I was not looking for affirmation about my mental and emotional strength. I know I'll get through this. I have developed the mental capacity and understanding for this situation. I have been through this all before.

Just listen and make that "um hm" sound to acknowledge your hearing my words. I don't need solutions, just your ear for a moment. The continued reenactment of this scenario clues me in to my neurosis. So, this is why I learned to self-sooth, as the therapist put it.

You don't have to like your family, because you couldn't choose who your parents, siblings or relations are. It has come to the point has come where I have to fish or cut bait. My decision, one last fish in this ocean, then I'm cutting bait.

Hate is a harsh word. I want to hate. I don't speak up about my anger and hurt. I don't speak up because what I say falls on deaf ears. My hurt feelings won't be addressed. I hate.

I must realize I don't have to love my parent. So, I choose to cut bait.

Water III

Tilt head, breathe in through mouth
Stroke, stoke, stroke, stroke, breathe out through nose, stroke
A mirror, above looking down, below looking up
Goggled eyes, fierce and mirrored

Tilt head, breathe in through mouth
Stroke, stoke, stroke, stroke, breathe out through nose, stroke
Swim suit hugging all bodily curves
Kick from the hip, not the knee

Tilt head, breathe in through mouth
Stroke, stoke, stroke, stroke, breathe out through nose, stroke
Rhythmic kicking
Rhythmic breathing

Tilt head, breathe in through mouth
Stroke, stoke, stroke, stroke, breathe out through nose, stroke
Count, breathe
Count, breathe

Ending is always hard.

He sings, "I'll be your cigarette/ light me up and get on with it/ I'll be hard to forget/ Good or bad, I'm just your habit."

Is this what I am? Is this what you are? A reasonable explanation for my behaviour. I'm just another addiction you've acquired. You are just my first true and deep addiction. Perhaps there is a support group I can join? "Doc, ya got any drugs that can interrupt my brain functions and facilitate my withdrawal?"

Instead I'm back for more. I want another hit. I need another hit. Light me up, baby!

She calls drunk and slurring her words. She is worried that some other woman will replace her. Your fears are totally unfounded, I tell her. You love a figment. A nothing. She slurs and starts to cry big heaving sobs. Have to go. Osskays...! She'll remember nothing after sleeping it off. Fears remain as if never expressed.

Old well worn patterns. There is no help here like once there was. Fears, guilt, sadness, slip through the hole stabbed in the fabric of the relationship. They all drift to the floor like paper confetti. Lurve yous, durrlings. I love you too.

"Don't talk to strangers," was something my mother always said. Though, it has been Simpson-ized to a stranger is just a friend you haven't met. Strained situations with folks you don't know. How much to reveal? What to hide? We all have flaws and dirty laundry. Liquor helps to loosen the strings on the bag that holds your secrets.

A connection here. A connection there. Disconnect here. Disconnect there. Chick chick here. Chick chick there. It should be that simple. It should be that easy. Stuff all of it back in my bag and steal off in the night.

Water II

Born under the right sign
Gender tides tied to the cycles of the moon
Cosmic sink, sinking deep
Deep down innate feelings
Soulful?

Shower stream
Burbling creek
River ribbon
Great lake, great pool
Ocean in the east, a great family tie

Wet and happy
So many ways this is truth
Fire can't dry this wetness
Dive down
Swim with me

Dampness, sadness
Drowning in a shallow puddle
Flowing along to larger
Sharp stones in the rapids
Tossed and Turned

Not deep enough
Though, not too shallow
Spilling forth from within
Eddies form outside
Life of water, wet me

Take this test!

Our IQ test will indicate to us and everyone in the country just how smart you are, comparatively speaking, to the rest of the population. The test is made up of visual recognition, mathematics, and language questions, all appropriately timed. Remember, if you're smart you will do well.

- Question 1 -

Panic! Blank mind. Hurry. Hurry. Answer before time runs out! Shit. I don't know. I can't figure this out in time. ARG! FUCK!

One moment... Your score is ...

Your test score indicates that you are below the average score. In other words, you ain't smart, ya dummy!

I've been keeping a written record, as you recommended. I don't know if I am capturing all the nuances of how I feel.

Please don't worry about nuance. It isn't a matter of it being the best prose or poetry, if you are expressing yourself in that manner. Just get it all out! Every little bit of hate, sadness, happiness, guilt, joy or other emotion you feel the need to express.

Can I fantasize?

If it helps you to see things from a different perspective, yes. Sure. If these fantasies are merely to escape how you really feel, then no.

Psychiatry

Gather around your Bunsen burners kiddies. Today we're going to start a new experiment. Okay, let's break off in to groups.

Each group, I want you to figure out which two of your group are the most depressed and which of you are bi-polar. The rest of the group will act as observers and recorders.

Now, I will distribute the lithium pills. This will be a two week experiment to study its effect.

Before we get started, all those who were active participants in the Prozac experiment? You will observe this time around! You're brains got messed with enough.

She looks ahead. A hill blocks any view of what could be before her. Behind her is a brick wall, tall and thick, seemingly growing out of the grass. Some of the red bricks are chipped and broken. She starts up the hill using the sledge hammer as a walking stick. A walking stick was all it was good for now. It wasn't going to get her through the brick wall, as she had hoped. The wall was just too thick. Her body not strong enough to make a powerful impact.

She walks. The only way is up the hill.

Blue stone ring, blue stone ring
The latest fashion thing
Oval cut and clear right through
Made of glass, I like you

Moonstone ring, moonstone ring
For me, luck you will bring
Milky white with purple haze
Ever changing with my gaze

Silver ring, silver ring
Symbol of a wedding
Matching wife to husband
On the finger it will stand

Silver rings, silver rings
Two in each ear, alternating
two are big, two are small
Not symbolic at all.

Ruby ring, ruby ring
White gold and diamonds are your thing
As a gift, given twice
Grandmother to granddaughter, so nice.

Strategic planning for the future

For quite a while I thought I was a terrible person. He might understand why I keep these secrets from him, but then again, he might not. I choose to share these secrets with another person, not him. He would hate that, perhaps never forgive me.

If he found out, I wouldn't ask his forgiveness. Apologize, yes! Then retreat. Pack my bags. Get outta Dodge. Oh, I feel I can be as heartless and cruel as that. I wouldn't want to explain my actions; and he probably wouldn't want to hear my justifications or excuses.

Questions and Answers

Stop trying to figure out the various unexpressed motivations. Go with what is happening, with what is being asked. Decide in the moment. Don't second guess your response. Just do. Do not think. So I did. When the questions came my way, I responded quickly. No second guesses. Both times, for very different requests, I found myself saying "yes" with no regrets or guilt.

Allowing myself some analysis afterwards, my responses yield; one request which will be very pleasurable for me to fulfill. The other request will be done out of a sense of duty. Nothing more.

Does this need a comma? Colon? Semi-colon? I blame it all on the way I was taught the English language. I distinctly recall only three classes in my entire education where I was taught English grammar. Being able to spell was much more important that learning clause structures, punctuation, verb agreements. You wonder why I have such poor grammar? This is why! How I went on to learn three other languages? I just don't know.

I'm sure I could study grammar. Get a book. Memorize all the rules and exceptions.

Before I do, tell me, did I correctly punctuate this?

Scene from my room:

The young fella said to me, "My parents are going to arrange all that for me. I just want her to be someone who speaks English, is Muslim and has a degree in something."
My face said it all. "You want an arranged marriage?"
"Yes."
"In this day and age, you want an arranged marriage? What about love?"
"This just makes it easier. My parents grew to love each other over time."
My mind reeled. Of all the questions, most basic to me was what if they weren't compatible, sexually speaking?

Event preparation.
Is it time yet?
Am I there yet?
Unseen destination.
Fantasize scenarios.
Never enough time.
Anticipate the moment.
What if it happens without me?
Must be there soon. Hurry. Hurry.
Can't be late. Just won't wait.
Rush. Rush. Rush.

There is here.
Now, too much time.
Wait in line, perhaps.
Sitting. Waiting.
Stall for time.
Still anticipating.
Growing butterflies.
Early bug with stuff to do.
Stare. Glare.
Come on. Let's go!
Doo doo doo.
Talk. Blab.
Shoot the breeze.
Read. Write.
GOD! I'm sooo bored.
Hours of bordom.

Then...
The time nigh.
Moment is upon me.
My arrival.

Why I don't like conferences

Idiots dancing. Idiots singing. Circus clowns? Those acts would make this conference much more interesting. More palitable. Enough with the droning. Too many lack personality or public speaking abilities. There should be a law, or in the least training to make all these sessions less tedious.

Powerpoint is a terribly used display tool. Follow the bouncing ball along my words. Or better yet just read along with me. The presentation is all spelled out for you on this screen right here. We could all read it aloud together. A large group chant. Perhaps Gregorian style?

- What I would like to do now is discuss the different practices people use... Yes? The hand up at the back...

- I think that these are all questions that can be answered in our publication!

- If it did, I wouldn't need to be up here. There are many problems which your publication does not address.

- If you attended our workshops you would be able to learn about different practices. This is a poor forum for the discussion you want to have.

- What the fuck, this is the only forum in which to discuss your Bible.

"You're like, the third person tonight to order that," said the waitress. Of the three of us at the table, none clued in to what the waitress had said. "I'll have the chicken," is what my friend thought she thought she had said. Perhaps the waitress had heard her say "I'll have the whole chicken."

For a petite woman with a small appetite, it was too much chicken in a ridiculous way. "If I ate the whole thing I'd be 70% chicken," she said. I retorted, "if chicken were liquor, you'd be drunk by now."

I've never been a smoker. No trips outside or to special rooms. Never relegated to a particular section because of my addiction, until now. The non-users are scattered at random chairs around the lounge waiting for the flight. As the battery on the notebook computer dies, I look around for a precious power outlet. There is only one, with a power-bar attached. All the computer junkies are collected around it plugged in. We only look at each other when we first plug in to the revitalizing power source. Ah! My fix. I've gotten my fix. I can keep going now.