A lesson before dying

the cancer hasn't gone away,
the doctor says.
but the hormone therapy has pushed
it away . . .
i am hopeful that you'll be in remission,
the doctor says

to my father
who breathes a happy relief
and
(who still has
prostate cancer)

he'll be just fine
with golfing, walking, and
praying at the healing masses

(he still has
prostate cancer)

it will be okay

getting set-up

I have a new computer, my final NYU gift to myself, before I left NYU and at a discount . . . a 17-inch iMAC. It's taken over a month to finally set it up, but it is -- wireless and all. As I begin to set-up my new life after NYU, I am surprisingly calm, peaceful though my anxiety eats at me in skin rahes and itchy eyes as I try to see my way into the future.

Having to get set-up all over again is a daunting task. In my procrastination, I watch Dawson, Joey and Pacey work through their teenage experiences in a far little town called Capeside. I witness the mother-daughter struggles between Lorelai and Rory, two women who remind me of the sibling relationship between a real mother and daughter in my life -- Ethel and Devyn. And in between, I treat myself to homemade peppermint ice cream. Is this what it's like to get set-up again?

It's hard. It's scary.

I still have no clue about what to pursue next. I think much about my future family and what might be a family-friendly job or career. Education seems to make the most sense. I've even thought about teaching pre-school, just to be around kids. The job hunt must begin. I hope that I have the courage to keep searching . . . for the job that will give me peace of mind, lots of laughter, and a true sense of myself.

exploring . . .

a new version of me
enamored by felicity
wanting . . .
a new version of me

finally

the end has arrived
my goodbye to frenzied fukulty
finally
finito
finale
f!@# you

I have an addiction

I guess it all started with the wedding planning. I wanted to make my own centerpieces, wheatgrass and shells, resembing the Jersey shore. I needed glass vases, shells, and sage candles in bulk. I've never been much of a shopper, hate the actual physical energy of having to get in a car, go to the department store, walk on the floor and hunt for the item I need. But there's something about the ease of online shopping. One click after another, I am able to to view hundreds of brands and styles in a matter of half a day (becasue it takes me that long to do a thorough search and make sure I get quality for a reasonable price). Whatever I'm searching for, it could be a vintage brocade cocktail dress (bluefly.com) or a new rattan/wicker lounge chair and ottoman (wickeroutlet.com), I spend days clicking each and every style on each and every site that pops up after my google. Some days, I'm just "window" online shopping. I have no intention of whipping out my credit card, but I just want to see what's out there.

In the past few months, I have looked at bookshelves (homedecorators.com), writing desks (also homedecorators.com), handmade wood fish mirrors (novica.com) . That I had no intention of whipping out my credit card, well, except for these times --

My mom generously donated the funds so that we could purchase a new dining table and chairs (roomstogo.com). A lovely wood pedestal and round glass top table, it fits in well with our home's shore theme. While we have a small cafe table in the windowed breakfast nook, my husband insists that we put our new dining table to use, so every meal is eaten there (and usually by candlelight).

I'd been wanting street signs to hang up in our kitchen and wanted them custom made. Sure enough, I located them (mrstreetsigns.com). One sign (for me) says, Jersey City Blvd; and the other (for my husband, the fisherman) says, Surfside Way. We haven't hung them up yet. But I have no doubt they will add our individual personalities to the cooking area.

Finally, we have two out-of-town weddings in September. My usual special occasion dresses are fitting quite snug, so of course I need at least one new dress. Found a bargain of one (spiegel.com), beige/gold-toned dress with a black mesh overlay. Perfect.

Rest assured, I don't shop online just for me. I look at every month's calendar to see whose birthdays are coming up. My friends' kids' birthdays are highlighted, so I make sure to send them a present (usually amazon.com). Or at least a free electronic card birthday greeting (mac.com/icards). Does the free stuff count as part of my addiction?

Uh oh. I just remembered, while I spend a good amount of time thoroughly researching items online, there is my other fixation. My weekly trips to . . .

. . . the dollar store.

for emilia & santiago

bright-eyed
toothless smiles
easily 'kili-teed' (tickled!)

bundles of joy
they are
babies

almost makes me one to have one (maybe even twins?)
but we'll get an old puppy instead
(for now)

flip flops

beaded
bejeweled
bedazzled

they carry me through concrete paths
on bustling streets
underground
& to the ocean

attracted to bold
& sometimes soothing
toepaint

they shout,
let me dress your feet!

& then i
treat myself to another
pair of
flip flops!

in search of renewal

I am physically and emotionally exhausted . . . coming down with a summer bug. I am sick of waiting for a work situation to unravel itself. I have no energy to be angry or frustrated, and yet I em enraged . . . my energy is at a low. Tired of waiting for a letter of agreement -- that I agree to resign, that I agree to accept a certain amount of money, that I agree not to apply for unemployment. Tired of the fake niceties that I have to maintain to maintain no drama. Tired of maintaining a semi-sane mind. It's exhausting to no longer know what you worked so hard to know, to deny what what once was your career love. I have cried myself to sleep, desperate to find a new passion, desperate because my dedication has been tampered with, desperate because what I once loved and knew so well has been taken away from me so violently. Did I really think that I would be at the same place of employment for longer than twelve years? It's a bad relationship, we both had our flaws. It's time to let go of each other, each of us in search of renewal and peace of mind.

LOST

emotional torture is the worst
waiting for resolve
to a situation that has been
unresolvable

i sink deeper
out of my self

lost
in uncertainty
in a future of possibilties

afraid that this is it
i have exhausted my path

lost
in anxiety
in dreams of pens, paper, & motherhood

excited to explore
other turns

that will lead me out of
being

lost

On not writing

It's been a while since I've deliberately written anything. Even my magazine class didn't help. I've been afraid to write honestly, to write the truth. Afraid of hurting someone else's feelings. Now I find myself at a life's milestone . . . about to leave my career of twelve years, being forced to resign, my father ill with prostate cancer. The last six months, I have been wrought with anger, with isolation, with frustration, with anxiety. So much so that my own body has reacted violently.

A good friend told me that our thyroid has much to do with our inner Spirit. Clearly mine has been knocked down by Intimidation, Insensitivity, and Ire. They have had much to do with my woeful self. While my thyroid hormone levels have been high the last few months, they are finally going down on their own, and I am avoiding meds. I am ready to shout, Woo hooo! Let me out of this toxic prison that they call a worthwhile workplace.

Meanwhile my dad is doped up on painkillers, in pain from head to toe. On a good day, he takes his walk and meets up with his buddy at McDonald's for free coffee refills only for seniors. On a good day, he's got his golf club in hand practicing the sport that he's picked up in his retirement. On a bad day, he's lying on his back in tremendous pain, feeling guilty that he didn't see a specialist initially when he should have.

I'm writing because it's the only way I know how to cope, to heal my Spirit which has been broken for so very long.

about time

time has a unique way of telling us . . .
it's time to move on
it's time to let things go

it's time to just be . . .
with the ones we love
because time might be running out
when we least expect it
and we wonder,
how much time do we have?

and instead of trying to figure out
how time has played us
she alarms us

to live

and teaches us

to live

'cause

it's

about
time