fat

there was, and this was, suppose to be different but i feel consumed by something more assured then a particular consternation.

mostly or so far lately, when i think about what i've been thinking about, a flat lines goes across the screen. at church a friend asked me how i was and nothing flitted across my mind, possibly my bloodsugar level was low, and then when i thought back to maybe a couple hours before there was something possibly heart breaking hovering there, absurd in its correlation to me and to my conclusion about it but nevertheless, but then the day moved on and it was gone- that happens occassionally to me like waking from autopilot and suddenly i feel tired, sad, possibly anxious and i pause mid sip, take a deep breath and engage a mental diagnostic- oh yah, that's right, there it is- a minut? minute. whatever. assemblage of fine points- mine and some from other people that materialize into apprehension, an event, a phrase, a metaphoric turn to the meaning of the thing.

autopilot is good for a lot of things, like the 6min anger delay button. fuming after i'm out of the situation or possibly reticent. it's odd how it takes several occurances to register on the scale, how it coalesces into a thought and then-

it happens occassionally when weight becomes the topic of anyones conversation. i note the features of the person, pros/cons... decide whether they have a right to be complaining, a right to think they look ugly or insecure in a bikini- think within a mili-space that i would "kill" to have such a body, and think them very foolish for such an utter lack of perspective. which i know we're all entitled too. they say healthy but what they mean is less repellant. but as we are all self-consumed, slips are inevitable in regards to how we really feel about ourselves. most always in my life i have never wanted to be anyone but myself- possibly, most defintely a better version, taller, thinner, smaller feet... but when it comes to it, i fought very hard to be happy with me. and i see people betray themselves that when they look at other women they wish they were them, and i think but you're beautiful- why don't they see that they're beautiful... and i think tragic. and it passes to annoyance when in comparison they have very little to do- i'm glad i can be here for perspective, a reality check- i have for instance $77,000 in debt and maybe 80+ to lose... and i scoff at their 20lbs or their $2,000 debt, whatever, i don't want to begrudge them with an eyeroll but i do. it is something possibly very big or insurmountable to them... i do not have a boulder on my back despite it... as a book reminded me, events in themselves aren't significant but what people think of them are, makes me think all those attitude adjustment tapes could work... really, after all. if i wanted them too.

i like my view from here, quietly, raucously going about my business. i am in the water, knowing i should've shaved, lap after lap watching the line and the flags pass on the ceiling, watching the cute old korean couple, the professional girl swimmers, the woman who wears make up into the water, the beautiful and disruptive boys, (much hotter than those body builder types) and my friends and this life i'm in, the skin i'm in has a fit that is wholly mine. and every minute in such naked spaces i have to chase away the chill that says, but you're, and they might, staring, awkward, retreat, dripping wet, inconvinience, betrayal to peace, transforming, blissful flatline of doing what i do because it makes me... happy? the healthy benefits aside. so that when i glance up from a thoughtless space it will not have been about vague apprehension but a rememberance of to whom i belong and to whom i serve- a far more reassuring space then the failure of being someone i am not.

An Epiphany's Tale

Epiphany: 1 capitalized : January 6 observed as a church festival in commemoration of the coming of the Magi as the first manifestation of Christ to the Gentiles or in the Eastern Church in commemoration of the baptism of Christ : an appearance or manifestation especially of a divine being (1) : a usually sudden manifestation or perception of the essential nature or meaning of something (2) : an intuitive grasp of reality through something (as an event) usually simple and striking (3) : an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure b : a revealing scene or moment ...


On the day of Epiphany the light in my room went out. Or rather when i came in, the flick of the switch produced a loud pop and short from the lightbulb and i stood in the dark wondering why today of all days, let alone ever, must my light periodically and probably dangerously cease to be. I have auxillary lights but they don't satisfy, and by what happened to me later i took it as a significant harbinger of what was to come- not unlike poor tess of the d'ubervilles when a crow kaws and a flagarant air of doom possesses the entire novel, and poor tess walks on oblivious. As did i, but so far i have a much happier and redemptive end then homicide.


The next day went on as Sundays should. Late, fashion crisis, reluctantly tread I to church. I sit and listen to the service in the lobby. He's talking about the problems we have adjusting to being 'adopted' into God's family- but people are coming and going, and at one point i'm pretty sure my director/slash/pastor is crying or 'choked up' bcs he's talking about his beautiful adopted daughter and her serious trust and control issues and how in his struggle with this he feels God working. Fairly heart breaking the destructive tests we put people thru in order for us to prove they don't really care, or will when tested, abandon us... I glazed over the rest and it was over, and after some tasty el pollo loco, and a redeux of the mango/aloe dessert of '06, I went to a celebration of Epiphany. Reluctantly.


But sometimes I like to be made to do things. My twisted form of peer pressure. If they say, M, go. Just come. I more than likely will bcs I recognize in most instances I'm completely anti-social. And also now that I have to be in bed by 830 I have an excuse to disappear from most events. But this one, accompanied not only with tea in china cups, and a random assortment of women, and artists at that- stood a woman looking a lot like the blonde bette midler who has a passion for the younger generation- is so intent on being a mentor to us and wanting us to be christ-minded and celebratory all year long (so that it's not about the days endlessly ticking by from monday to friday, thank god for saturday, but that there's more satisfaction in exploring outside the self and your continum boredom with life or days like wed-nes-days) inspired a sentiment in me with words like sharing my abundance and building my community and expressing awkward emotions like affection and love... she passed around a bottle of port and we toasted: 'to the revolution'. O Captian My Captain!! I will kiss your feet and follow you anywhere.


Perhaps warmed by the port and slumping frightfully into the winged back chair of this modern day victorian drawing room my friends and i departed. Feeling blessed by friendship and in communion with all my fellow man, driving over over the hill, the crisp sparkling lights contrasted with night, saying that the other day I looked left and could see the ocean, so clear was the day... I dropped off my friend D to her husbands care, pulling up to her apartment and in the redzone, took an abandoned plant of hers and hopped back in my car to speed tardily home and on my way- so past was I on my appointed slumber hour...


When: the danger chord struck and the key would not do it's work. It stuck sadly out. I jiggled the wheel, checked the gear, flipped the key, shook, shimmyed, hammered... and nothing. I called my mom and dad for idiot proof advice to no avail and then with chagrin trudged back up to my friends apartment, moped in to use the bathroom and told them my car was broken.


I came back out and as true friends do they were also jiggling the wheel, checking the gear, flipping the key, shaking, shimmying, hammering... and nothing. We checked the manual, googled the situation and found quite possibly that my ignition switch was dead and that it was a wide spread ford focus problem, which if you've had this happen you should lodge a complaint immediately. We contemplated getting it out of the redzone but alas no. Or leaving it, but no.


One of the best presents my mom ever gave me was my AAA card. And having utilized it for numerous LA related freeway issues or like when I was 21 and freaking out and late to class how i locked my keys in my car with the engine running... but i digress. They said that, gee, wasn't i lucky to have a $60 free assessment service... sure. okay. The guy shows up pretty frickin quick and within a munite I'm informed that the switch has to be replaced and that it'll be $265. Yes. $265. I have $50 in my bank for the next 2 wks. $3o is for gas. My discovercard is approaching max and I give out a bit of a whine and then a frowny grumbly sound and a big sad pouty face. S says that he will charge it to his card and that I can pay him back. I grumble mainly bcs I hate to impose in such a manner and like most good daughters do, blame their mothers for getting the car in the first place. I call mom and we work out the options, as there is none, and she says she'll write S a check- as the pressure of being indebted to my mom is a much less ominous feeling. It's not my fault she bore me!


I gave S/D a group hug, hopefully thanked them for the cherries and tea and the moral support and the being there part and wended my way home in the now AM hours. SO unbelievably grateful for friends and family and twinging with regret at people who don't have such wonderous things... and overwhelmingly grateful to have made it home, the time, malfunction, and the lack of sleep and the money seemed not to anger me at all.