Love Sonnet (classic)

Adequate Words

Stolen words from cold dead lips

of poets from ages gone past –

when love was a bloom budding for the nip

and young starry-eyed lovers held ever fast;

courtly knights in evergreen meadows,

fair alabaster damsels with burning

love in their breast, penned to a fellow

in parchment sealed with wax. Yearning

for true love, eternal, dying. And soft!

The fair Hero hardly need speak

to gentle Claudio whilst he is sighing

over her beauty, so gentle and meek.

And now, our parents love has failed us -

this world leaves no room so swoon.

What words are left to assail us

and sow true love to bloom?

Jungle of Other

The Jungle of Other

I am the white minority

Envious eyes have me espied,

falsely believing my presumed power

in this jungle of other

I am excluded from the whole

Blind bright-white disjunction

forcing the foil in fatigued faces

in this jungle of other

I am my own worst enemy

Quietly, could I conform

and ready for racial ridicule

in this jungle of other

I am the irrationally feared

Subtly stripped of superficial stature

weak, alone, watched and weary

in this jungle of other

Taking the plunge

I may have done the most ridiculous thing a person can do in today's fragile economy - I quit my job. For a long time now, I have been debating internally about how I feel about the job I am currently working. My boss is a crook, and that is a known fact. There is no upward mobility at my job, I make the most money possible. I work in a basement with mice and mold. I take orders from my boss' particularly hostile personal assistant (who didn't even graduate high school). I wonder to myself how I got here, and why I am still here. Oh right, because I haven't found another job.

So I said FUCK IT. I decided that I deserve more, and I can no longer subject myself to an unhealthy and hostile work environment. I am actively seeking a new job, and I am scared sick that it will not be as easy as it has been in past years to find one. I have some time before new income becomes necessary (thank you savings account) But at the same time, I am so excited to be freed from this building, this business, this boss, this bullshit!!! Three years is a long time to dump into a dump like this.

Maybe I will get another office job. Maybe I will work in retail. Maybe I will work for myself and free-lance writer or sell fucking Avon. Maybe I will get an internship and just be a broke college student. It doesn't matter to me. My number one priority is my future career as an American Literature professor. That's what matters. That's what matters. That's what matters (repetition is for my sake)

Notes on Baby-Dicking

My favorite phrase (copy-write pending) is on the top of raisin brain this morning. Perhaps because I was yelling it repeatedly through a whiskey haze, perhaps because it was so incredibly relevant recently.

Or perhaps I have caught myself in the act of baby-dicking.

Baby-dicking: an expression that can be interchangeable with "pussy-footing" around. IE - someone who is not living up to their potential as a badass, not being physical present to defend oneself, or bailing on friends/events for less than badass reasons

I confess my baby-dicking while engaging in the act. You see, this morning I am working alone in a basement in a building in the middle of Detroit's east residential area. That is long from for "the hood". I am working in a windowless basement with mice and cockroaches. I am covered in a blanket and wearing two sweatshirts because it is 40 degrees down here. My boss has rejected my requests for a space heater. I am of the understanding that he expects me to buy one for myself if I would like to thaw my hands enough to type. The mold has triggered my allergies and I cannot shake my sinus infection. The mold creeps from all corners, the ceilings are falling in under the weight of mold and water damage. This place is a shit hole and I work in the icy-cold taint of the beast.

I am watching myself not bother to dress for work because I am going to be alone and shivering in a corner all day. I am watching myself baby-dick around with the acceptable conditions I deserve as an employee. I have the most continuous seniority of any office staff. I have the most education of any office staff. I am working in the corner of a basement. I am cold. (I am NEVER cold, ask my boyfriend) I am checking out as the days drag by...

I need to stop baby-dicking around.

ReallyRoughRegrets

More R words.

I think I might have screwed myself (again). It becomes facinating for me to watch myself make decisions for a variety of reasons, then doubt those reasons in the light of the day, and therefore, doubt my decision.

I doubt my decision making skills. I am unsure if it is best to make decisions with your heart, or with your head, or with your gut, or with all three. What can I trust to tell me the truth before it's too late? Why can't I be patient enough to let time tell me answers? And since when did I start making decisions based completely on my own thoughts? I know that I cannot trust my whims, but I guess I can no longer differentiate between a whim and true emotion.

I am at a loss, for it is too late. I can feel now the gravity of my decision and consequential unjustified sadism. I can feel my pain, guilt, self-disgust competing for my emotional attention. It's pretty much awful. Expect lots of really dark poetry, for I finally broke through the hard outer shell and my soft insides are bleeding out. I will try my best to continue pursing my 2011 goals of self-cultivation, despite the fact that this notion may have screwed me already.

RevelationRecommendationResolution

Maybe I just like words that start with R...

No Really, there is a purpose for this particular blog.

I take the turn of the new year very seriously. It seems to be the most Rational time to Reassess what you have accomplished in the last year, and what you want to achieve in the year to come. Some people make Resolutions, but in all Reality - I would say only about 10% of those Resolutions are actualized. The New Year's Resolution seems to be a socially acceptable form of self-disappointment and masochism. I don't buy into it. Personally, I would be a Royal idiot if I assumed I could make a decision in January and hold true until December. It makes no Realistic sense - plus twelve months seems like a long time to accomplish something you are so Resolved about you felt the need to declare it to the world. Just do it already!!!

Hence, I spend several days alone around the turn of the new year. I wanted to isolate, Revel in my own thoughts, tap into my true essence, and assorted other lofty, idealistic notions. I made a few important and painful decisions that will affect the next year of my life. Nothing worth having comes easy though, Right? Now all I have to do is stave off the self-doubt for a while...

BACK TO THE POINT!!! I have determined I want to accomplish twelve different things this year (at least). Every month of 2011, I will set a new goal for myself to accomplish. This serves many purposes in my life:

1) I get an excuse to dedicate Ridiculous amounts of time to whatever I want without judgement

2) I have twelve challenges, which means I have a higher likelihood of success

3) I am not stuck with one idea I found important in January (which probably won't matter in June)

4)I get to take an adventure with myself, for myself, invented by myself, for the betterment (and amusement) of myself. Perhaps it's selfish in theory, but I don't see it playing out that way.

January - I have decided to not update my Facebook. I want to try and disconnect from the social network and get back to socializing in a more conventional way.

February - The month of love. I have decided to connect with every friend I love and find special in my life. I might make gifts, I will probably do a lot of bar nights with my companions, I might write heartfelt letters. I want to spread the love I have been given. TO MY FRIENDS

March - Weight-loss challenge. Details TBD

That's as far as I got. I Realized that it would negate my foundational purpose if I set all my Resolutions now. There are many things I want to do, project I want to undertake, changes I want to make, and things I want to discover about myself. 2011 is going to be MY year

Ass Cookies and Christmas

The holiday season is not my favorite time of year. I am not a Christian, or a Jew, or black, or whomever else get a celebratory day this time of year. I celebrate the NEW YEAR! Horray! I made it through the last one, and I get another365 days to create chaos. It's a wonderful celebration. But back to the obligatory Christmas crap I have been pressured into putting up with and participating in. It all began with the Dickens' Village. My mother has been nagging me to take these collectibles from my childhood and put them on display in my super-sweet pad. My first concession of the season...

Then came the Tuesday before Christmas, and all through my house, creatures were stirring (cookie batter) but I didn't see a mouse! Carie came over and I made cookies to give to my neighbors in the ol' folks home.. However, I am not an expert in the kitchen. But I figured, we have supplies and the internet - what could go wrong??

Well, in true Xmas fashion, shit went wrong. I can break and bake some TollHouse cookies all day, but when it came time for me to actually make cookie batter.... Well first there was the brown sugar incident. I learned that brown sugar is not supposed to be in rock form. And I broke my only bowl in my furious frenzy to mash down my sugar rocks. Ok - one batter down the drain. Then I tried my hand at chocolate chip cookies, using the brown sugar crumbs and some water. I followed the recipe (I thought) and off to the oven went 30 some chocolate chip treats. In a moment of pure genius, I told Carie that we ought to try these before we package them, just in case they taste like ass....And they did taste like ass. They can only be described as chocolate chip cake-textured rocks. But I was out of supplies and short on time, so off the ass-cookies went to the frosting station (everything is better with frosting) and into the festive tins and beautiful handmade snowflake cards. I even had to add a few store-bought cookies to make up for the ones I burned. Great success!!!!

I posted a picture of this tin because my cat promptly ate the paper snowflake the moment she was left alone with it. It took Carie three tries to get the perfect pot/heart snowflake! At least the moment can be treasured forever... on my blog. Happy Holiday (whichever one you celebrate)