industrious

industrious: diligent and hard-working.

I've been busy, putting my left foot in and shaking it industriously all about. Two jobs is tough stuff.  But so far I'm managing. It's the small things that get me trough.

There's a regular that comes into Albertson's, he usually buys a loto ticket on Wednesdays. I'm kicking myself for forgetting his name.  We started off on the wrong foot.  I was tired and he cracked a joke that I found offensive.  Who knew he'd become my favorite customer.  He works at Micron and likes to give me practical life advise.  It's people like him that make me think the world is worth wading through.  One morning we were chatting it up when I pushed the intercom button on accident and a good five minutes of our conversation was broadcast to all the store.  Eventually we noticed and I started cracking up when my supervisor tried to talk to me about "the incident".  I didn't get in trouble or anything, just told to be careful. What a good day!

There's another guy that comes in regularly.  He an older African American man with orange hair, seriously it's orange.  Think Dennis Rodman but 50 years older.  He oddly smells like waffles and maple syrup.  One day he came through my line to buy a bottle of face wash.  He asked me if I could read the instructions to him.  So I turned the bottle over and started reading, "lather face with two..."  He interrupted me and said it's better if I just explain it in my own words.  So then I walked him trough step by step how to wash his face. Just so he remembers he proceeded to recite the steps back to me, acting out the motions even.  He put his hands to his face and moved them round and round in tiny circles saying, "first I wet my face, right? Then I get a wet cloth...no scratch the wet cloth, I don't need that.  So I get my face wet then I later on the soap and I rinse!"  We did this three or four times until he was satisfied that he could remember the steps.  Best part is, after I rung him up and said "have a good day" he came back twenty minutes later and we did the whole thing over again!  This time I got creative and drew out a diagram on a note card for him.  He put it in his pocket and looked at me a bit sideways and confessed, "I'll probably miss place it."  I reassured him, "well, I'll be here if you do." 

I've got a confession of my own, when I'm bored I draw little punk rock cartoons in my notebook or on the back of recite paper...I'll scan those in for you later!

As for my internship, I get quite a bit done here and really feel productive.  But when there's a lull in work I like to write my initials in the dust on the tops of the archive shelves.  So far I'm up to about 63 shelves I still have about 110 to go.

emotional bandage

emotional bandage: my dear friend Rob's name for a tattoo

zzzzzzzzzt.
zzzzzzzzzt.
vvvvrrrrrr.
the needle digs deeper.
I am elated, in a trance of pain induced euphoria.
The closest I'll ever get to getting off.
zzzzzzt.
zzzzt.
vvvvvvrrrrrrve.
The tingle travels down my back, through my leg, and to my toes.
I wiggle them a bit and savor the flagrant shock.
I wouldn't say it hurts, but rather it fills, solders, and distracts.
it fills vindictive voids with ink, injected ink.
it solders the flapping painful edges of despair.
it distracts from the emotionless apathy long enough to convince me that I do indeed feel.
pain is like a drug, addictive and ironically sobering.
zzztttt.
vvvvvvverve.
zzzzzzzzzt.
the needle stops, wiped clean by a paper towel.
Gill asks me a question about NOFX.
I ungrip the pillow long enough to mumble an answer,
then go back to my white-knuckled bliss.
zzzzzzzt.
vvvverve.
zzzzzzzt.
my sucker has been staturated with salavia.
almost sucked down to nonexistance.
I crunch the last bit between my teeth and think to myself,
when's the time I can a get another tattoo?

above is my new tattoo btw! Trent canceled our date yet again...so I got a tattoo instead :)

let's just say...

let's just say, cleavage is good for holding things...like money and men's attention.

mantra

mantra: a sound, syllable, word, or group of words that are considered capable of "creating transformation." Their use and type varies according to the school and philosophy associated with the mantra.  Most common in Buddhist and Hindu traditions.

too often I stumble
so here instead is a mantra I mumble

I don't want this anymore,
sometimes things just fall apart,
shit fuck,
the weight is a gift,
a willow and not an oak,
don't call me cupcake if you call other girls that too,
this isn't worth the TUMS,
everyone's got to leave their love sometime,
I didn't die, I survived, that's good enough for now


rinse and repeat

eulogy

eulogy: classical Greek for "good words," a speech in praise of a person or thing, especially one recently deceased or retired, usually given at a funeral.

I went home this weekend for my grandmother's memorial service. It was a long weekend, but after reading the following eulogy, this weight I've been feeling lately lifted.

In memory of Joan "Joanne" Stacer:

As a granddaughter, you notice characteristics about your grandmother that others might overlook. To you all, my grandmother was "Joanne"; a supportive mother, a cordial neighbor, a compassionate friend, or even a dedicated community member. But to me, she was Grandma Jinx; a bounty hunter of bullies, an advocate for indulgence, a dame of determination, and a never-ending source of patience and motivation.To me, these characteristics were obvious, but then again not everyone was afforded the delight of following my grandmother around like her shadow for the majority of their childhood.  For this reason, I'm excited to elaborate on a few of my favorite memories...When I was about 6 and 1/2 years old, I convinced myself that a bully lived in my coat closet and if I opened the doors at night, the he'd come out and beat up all my stuffed animals.  So I began to sleep in my parents bed out of fear.  At first, it was only once every few weeks but eventually it escalated to every night and my parent's patience wore thin.  That's when I turned to my grandmother.  Not only did she let me sleep in her bed, but she also had the audacity and courage enough to enter my room late one night, open the closet doors, and sock-it to that bully, shooing him to a far away place where he couldn't ever harm one of my stuffed animals again.  After that, I started sleeping soundly in my own bed and I gained great insight into just how bold and strong my grandmother really was.  Around this same time in my life, one of my favorite things to do was go to the Discount Bread Store.  Now this doesn't seem like the most tantalizing way to entertain kids, but Grandma Jinx made it so.  At the end of every trip, she'd let my step-brothers and me pick out a treat.  From this small gesture, I learned that a little indulgence can go a long way and that my grandmother really knew how to enjoy and cherish the small things in life.  I'm not sure my step-brothers noticed this though, seeing that they inhaled their hostess cupcakes and coconut snowballs like vacuums.  Another favorite memory of mine wouldn't have existed if I hadn't gotten mono and missed nearly all of the 6th grade.  During my time stranded, sick on the couch, I was lucky enough to stay home and watch Murder She Wrote all day long with my Grandma Jinx.  I watched episode after episode of Jessica Fletcher solve murder mysteries.  I also watched, in admiration, my grandmother solve them first.  Her determination and persistence in this task was inspiring.  Some days she'd get so passionate that her TV tray would flip clean over and she'd boast with a little celebratory dance.  Above all, I noticed my grandmother was always my biggest cheerleader.  Whether it was a simple butterfly kiss or turning my light off after I fell asleep doing homework in high school, she was always there to motivate and support me. She loved me unconditionally and in celebration of the time I spent as her shadow and in honor of the woman I knew her to be, I hope now to do the same.  Who knows maybe I'll have a shadow of my own one day.  So thank you Grandma Jinx, I will miss all that you were to me

bobby pins

bobby pins: type of hairpin or clip, usually made of metal or plastic, used to hold hair in place. Typical bobby pins are plain and unobtrusively colored, but some are elaborately decorated or jeweled. In British English, they are known as a hair grip or kirby grip. The bobby pin became popular in the 1920s along side the vogue "bob".

bobby pins
my head spins
with each one you find
scurry to worry that
you don't walk the line
monstrosity's velocity
dizzy spell
just can't tell
the determinant my
effort's spent
curiosity bombards my brain
as I try never to call you vain
do me a favor and point your gun, shoot my heart with a bullet full of disdain
bang bang, my baby shot me down