Learning Curves, Baby

My mom sent me a Rosetta Stone Level 1 and 2 CD-ROM, and I can't thank her enough. I'm so excited to try out the program; I've heard nothing but good reviews of the company.

I'd studied Spanish in high school, and it never sank in for me. Maybe it's because my teacher was a bitch (ahem), maybe it's because memorization of vocabulary just doesn't sync me up to actually speak the language. RS uses the 'immersion technique', meaning there's no translation. They won't tell you 'roja' means 'red'...they'll label a picture of the color red, 'roja'. Then they teach you through context, a picture of a red apple, and the accompanying sentence 'la manzana es roja'. etc.

Speaking another language has always seemed like a magical skill to me, and something I've never had the confidence to practice with native speakers. Still, I'll keep y'all updated...it should be easier to handle than my Japanese vocab reader, right?

O.K.

I have a temp job as of this morning at 9am, prepping tickets and ribbons and whatnot for a conference. Did you know that temps are regarded as slow to learn? My goodness, the stand-up material. The stand-up material indeed.

I'm dating Pad, and trying very VERY hard to be calm and not worry so much. The fact is, part of me wants to be with him ALL THE TIME FOREVER WITH KISSES AND HUGS AND CONSTANT VERBAL DECLARATIONS OF AFFECTION. That part of me is shockingly resilient. If only I could focus as well on, say, writing or exercising or learning Spanish or setting up an online shop for my art or training my puppy or repairing my relationship with my brain and heart and possibly ruby slippers.

The other part of me is bored with myself and slightly jealous of his friends and everyone else around my age. They seem to have such a good damn time. I want a good damn time. I want a good damn focused and yet openly adoring my boyfriend time wherein I never worry and when something goes wrong, my first instinct is NOT to be disgusted with myself. (Being narcissistic would be fun, if only for a while. I envy people who just LOVE themselves, no matter what. They seem to have more friends and less worries. Sure, go on, tell me it's not true. I can offer several well-studied examples.)

And a small part of me wishes Pad were in awe of me. He's smart and talented and handsome and so, so much more secure than I, and dammit people like him. I'm awash in stories I can't finish and worries logic can't touch.


*sigh*





remember when I explained the Buddhist principle of accepting the bad parts of life, rather than avoiding them? 'Eat the cold'?

well, turns out there's a Cantonese saying, "you must eat the cold porridge"- to truly master anything, you must work hard when others are playing, work longer, so when you're done and return home there's nothing to eat but cold porridge. Or, in relative, high-school-soccer terms, 'you must miss an episode or two of Buffy'.

I was the captain of the varsity team with a busted ankle, Negative Side. I graduated early, with honors, from the unfunnest college situation ever. I'll eat frozen fucking oatmeal until I pwn you, biotch. You better watch your back.










p.s. GIRLTIME: did I mention I'm dating Pad??? Isn't he just the cutest thing? OMGILH Srsly!1!1! k bai!!!!

Sand

I've spent a lot of time complaining on this blog, and for that....sorry, y'all. I realize that, now and then, people get quite worried about me. Mostly because when things are going well, I don't write much.

So....

Jobs hunting sucks, but going fine. Interview tomorrow.

Seeing more of Pad. Playing it cool, but fuck it....I'm really excited and I'm hoping for the ultimate best best BEST my god he's so cute ever. I would happily keep sweet tea in my house for the rest of my years if it made him happier.

Puppy and kittzen are angels. Furry, heat-emitting angels. Turning up the AC on the way to bed doesn't quite safeguard against WARM FUZZY CREATURES who simply MUST sleep atop me.

my apartment is cleaner. It's a slow process if I actually keep it up every day...that is, don't dirty up one side of the apartment whilst cleaning the other side. My bedroom is clean. I refuse to let it fall into dis-clean-ness.


Stopped talking to Crowley (fake name...I'm reading Good Omens, ok? sue me) for a while. Turns out I can't handle it. For a number of reasons, but surprisingly...I'm really pissed. God DAMN how I wish I could have a baby right now. I wish a baby was even conceivable (ha) right now. Wish I had the job, relationship, and physical health to even have the option. So...yeah. Can't be supportive right now. Selfish, but true.

Silver Lining

*sigh* Nerds.

Rain

let's describe.



stomach is tight
and drinking water
is like passing clay
through cheesecloth
legs are dry
feet are sore
one sore heel keeps cracking open

neck houses a
metal, rusted thing tearing
my throat to tatters
eyes are common red
lips are licked dry
skin is thin in places too near
skin is thick where I have been hurt
and I have trod

sonorous core
the loud and frightened leader
heart or head
takes me to hear the thunder
outside the window
in my bed

Full Disclosure

Alan broke up with me for a number of reasons, but I think his biggest problem was my honesty. I think that's David's (my stepdad) biggest issue with me too. Mostly because my honesty includes telling people that when they're impolite, it makes me want to kill them. Or, say, when we have a 20 minute conversation and they can't remember my name at the end (god forbid they have the manners to ask) I'll call it out.

Or, for example, when I would rather hang out withOUT giving someone free sex, and they subsequently cancel plans to hang out at all, I calls it like I sees it: Asshole. Incredibly thoughtess and pigheaded.

On the other hand, can I give a big shout-out to Rebecca Grossman, who took the time to text me on June 3rd and led her support. Thank you, honey.


so yeah, honesty. It doesn't suck.