Thursday, September 29, 2011

Omg, I cant....

Really, why update?
By the time I press submit some other shit has happened. Uuuggghhh. Would you believe that I have to move again? Well, I don't have to but to reduce some stress from the limited budget I have to respond the stimuli...
Anyhoos, the new thing? Investing less of my sanity into my "space" and placing that wholeness in my mind....regardless of where I'm laying my head. Boy, I'm boring myself with this...

Monday, September 12, 2011

Complaints...

I joined the stop complaining group today. I don't know why. It seemed like an interesting experiment. Kinda like a fish trying to walk - I really don't know what the hell I'm trying to do. Seems unnatural... I didn't want to ask 'what's wrong with complaining?' because it seemed like asking "What's wrong with doing drugs?" - like I'd be admitting I had a problem by admitting my ignorance.

What if I do have a problem? What if I'm the "I don't have a drug problem I'm only here because the court says I have to be" guy? No has ever really complained about me complaining..and since people have rarely shied away from commenting on my personality I can safely conclude that it isn't a massive personality disorder...

However, there is a niggling sense that I should know why complaining is an issue. I know it can be annoying...if you do it too much. But what is too much?????  How do we separate rigeotous indignation from "complaining"??? I mean, what if your food is cold, or nasty, or poorly prepared, or just eww? You aren't supposed to say anything?

Anyhoo - you have to wear a large colored rubber band on your wrist and every time you complain you have to switch it to the other wrist. The point is to go 21 days without a single complaint - it took the founder of this movement 5 months before he could go 21 days straight. It will take me eternity. I need some exceptions to this rule.

1. Anything I deem racist, sexist, or classist, etc. Evil suckers don't get a free ride on this trip.
2. Terrible food/service - I'm paying for it - I deserve it.
3. If my feet hurt (beau gets a pass, he put in the contract no complaining about feet and has affirmed the comfortable shoes are sexy theory)
4. If I'm tired from working too hard at anything. How else will I get through it? (This one may not be legitimate - thoughts?)

I think I'm missing some important exceptions buut looking over the list of exceptions and saying I'm missing somethings seems to be a message of some kind...a light bulb moment but I think -- I'm missing the point. Don't you hate when that happens? I mean it's lik-- nevermind.
                                                               

Saturday, September 10, 2011

That way goes trouble...

Yesterday was a scary day for me. It was one of those days when I fully felt my humanity. I mean that most days I go through the day fulfilling my duties to some degree, waking, washing, going to work, talking to people, filling out paperwork, hanging out out with my friends and spending quality time with Ocho. Whether or not I am going to die rarely comes up.

Yesterday I did not think I was going to die. I felt though, at the end of the day, that I could see the seams of my humanity, my sanity, myself begin to bloat until the bits of glue holding the edges together began to make those stringy stalactites in attempt to hold me together. I stood on 120th and Lexington and reached deep down in my strength and decided that I was not going to lose it on that street because I said so. It was so weird, I felt like a super hero, or and Octavia Butler character - it was like I had this orange ball of strength that I reached into to stick myself back together - it futile though, like using spit on ashy elbows. I knew that I wasn't going to make it home before I fell apart. I was thinking "If you could just make it home before all this comes out you will be fine". But just as I thought that the edges of my vision got all fuzzy. I was thinking...it's 5 something and rush hour on the 4 train is cut throat - I can't make it home through that. I thought about sitting on the steps for a while and calling Mo, since that is what I usually do - but she was too far away and I was scared to be alone with all this "stuff" coming out. So I called Tasha and she came to help me keep it together. I was thinking somewhere around 10 O'clock that I really didn't want to be alone - I felt like I had broken up with someone. You know how you feel when the initial numbness goes away and the hurt, pain, and missing them hits? Yeah...that's how I feel now.

Yesterday started with blessings and ended with me looking at a tunnel and realizing that that ways goes trouble. One way is determination, and the other depression. One way stout with the possibility of failure, the other a vocational coma.  Although I was sad yesterday morning I got to school early and decided to grab a bite. I was talking to my friend jazzy who called to check in with me (blessing #1) and to tell me that there is a possibility I could move in with her...if her roomy leaves (life changing that would be [yoda voice]). While talking to her I see a tall, attractive chocolate young man who looks familiar. I glance at him. He glances at me. I walk over to him and say Don't I-- and He reaches over sweeps me into a hug and says "Ms. Adens!?!" It was an old student from one of the programs I used to teach at about 5 years ago. Short story long, he works there now and they need a night GED teacher....(blessings blessing blessing). We exchange numbers and he leaves with a promise to give me the info about the job. I walk over to the counter to get my ill advised breakfast purchase and the papi tells me "nothing baby that guy paid for it"....What is the message??

Yesterday I stepped into school and swiped my id card with all the hope in the world - my finger tips tingly with possibility and excitement that disaster could be diverted.   Then during class I check my email to see if the dean had written me back. She did, just to reiterate that there was nothing that could be done. I would receive my first payment today and every Monday until the end of the term...stop..wait..what? Yall aren't giving me a lump sum? Nope - they are going to give me a weekly check instead of my money...because I am not an adult enough to budget my own cash, I can't be trusted with the money that I took out as a loan. I'm being infantilized by a system that fucked my life up in the first place...?

Let me be more clear. The dean and I decided that I could pay my rent for four months and not eat in January. My rent needs exceeds my cash for the term...so if you spread it out evenly it doesn't give me enough monthly to pay for four months. Follow me? I won't make my rent and I haven't even tried to eat yet.

This morning I am feeling better. [Section Redacted] I think over all that there are many details missing from this post - it is simply because I was so fascinated by that emotion event, it was like seeing my own heart beat, that I had to share it that way.  I am not going to say "don't worry about me" because I am fully aware of the content of this post and the mercury heaviness of this revelation but I am not a danger to myself and others. Promise.

Friday, September 9, 2011

Reflection on life changes...

Yesterday morning I was razor focused on getting my honors, finding a professor who would mentor me, and dealing with my queer anxiety and it's random daily expressions in my days.

Last night, I only had three separate dreams about going into anaphalactic shock and having my breathing pathways shut down. Yep, I took my girlfriends emergency and projected my brand new legitamate fears onto them in my dream. The sad thing is that every time I couldn't breathe, I remember being all alone and trying to stuff my fingers up my nose...obviously that wasn't going to work. So as I dropped to my knees for  lack of oxygen I would wake up, fall asleep, dream, drown, wake up and again...lovely.

The anger and hostility has yet to abate and I already feel it looking for a target in my school administrators and conversely affecting my desire to do well and succeed. This will be the third time I have entered one of these institutions only later to feel betrayed in someway or another.  The beau is coming over tonight so maybe I will be able to sleep through the night....

I still can't believe the changes that 24 hours can make.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

I can't be radical anymore

Have you ever been in the position of thinking about doing something radical like quitting your job and going back to school? Well if you were to ask me if you should do it - here is what my response will be...

Do not do it.
Don't do it.

It's hard to advocate staying in a boring dead end job, but I am going to do it. Here is why. Work equals freedom. Responsibility...but really freedom. I am not free, my life and it's stability as a student is not stable and based upon the stability of other people whose lives and job are not in jeopardy should my needs not be met. For example, Say my current employer forgets to pay me, or forgets to sign the paperwork to pay me...that is slavery and against the law...Thus it will be rectified as soon as possible and someone may even get chewed our for that kind of mistake.

As a student, however, you but a modern day serf and your life can be fucked up by something as simple as a a failure to make a phone call and tell you that your financial aide has been denied.

So the majority of my financial aide has been denied and I cannot pay my rent. Should it have been denied? I have not qualms on the opinion of CUNY that CUNY student should live a certain type of way... "As opposed to some private schools in the city" as the financial aide counselor so unhelpfully mentioned to me. Obvously I do have a problem with the class and racial implications of who and how the city thinks its public students should survive in direct contrast to how we students actually live (assumming we all live at home? in public houseing? classist much NYC? etc.) . But that is for a never post since I don't want to reflect on the tentacles of government in my life... I do have  a serious qualm with the idea that, although the feds approved my loan, NYC says that I have no right to that amount of money regardless of the fact that it could drive me out of school and into the unemployment roles. Huh?

So as you can see? DO NOT take that leap. Stay safe, cozy and fed at your job. DO Not think of doing better through the radical attempt. Simply work your ass off until you prematurely gray, take 20 years to get your degree and then one day faaaar in the future you make reap the rewards of your non-sacrafice.

I swear I'm not being (completely) facisous. I'm going to play angry birds and forget my responsibilites now -- seriously, I am. Rio version. get it.

And since the lady who just sat down next to me smells like mildewed sneaker in a dark, damp gym locker this post is over.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

and so week 2 begins....

You know what I hate about new things? New things. I know what you are thinking right...that Rebekah loves news things. Specifically, new places, new things, new people, new shoes...You would be right.

Except.

I hate school. Not exactly the reading (that part I love). Recently, I have gotten annoyed at having to meet new people, and I have gotten annoyed at having to speak well in class, and overall I have gotten annoyed at generally have uncertainty surrounding me. Again I hear you saying that I love that stuff...You would be right.

Except.

I don't feel that way. I don't feel the confidence and excitement anymore(today..right now). I just feel like there is way too much at stake for me to possibly be able to meet the defined obligations. What the hell? I know, what am I talking about?  Say I do all this and remain mediocre and get a mediocre job - what a waste of frickin money! This post is sadly off the dome and reflecting my anxious mind. 

I will be more clear.  I haven't gotten my reading completely done for my third class and I was late to class even though I left my house on time. Late twice. For the same class. Now I have this niggling thought that my professor hates me. I need some freaking therapy. I wish I could treat my damself.
Essentially, placement has not started so I feel like how could everything not be completed if I had three mostly full days off? I'm going to get on the ball I hope. shaking my head at myself. to steal a phrase.

that is all.

[Wait. I just read my bbf's blog and she bring a interesting idea to the forefront...I may be pmsing. That shit is real in the field...(more on that later)]