R,I,P, A VERY SAD DAY INDEED

I woke up to the terrible, terrible news that Benazir Bhutto, former Prime Minister of Pakistan, who had recently returned to her homeland following years of exile, was assassinated today at a political rally. The killer than blew himself up and killed an additional 22 PEOPLE. 23 unwarranted, wasteful deaths

She along with current President Pervez Musharraf were due to participate in government elections on January 8th, 2008. I am extremely concerned about what this means for the people of Pakistan and the country's future.

My condolences go out to the families, friends and admirers of Ms. Bhutto and those 22 PEOPLE who died today. May they all rest in peace. May this wonderful lady rest in peace as well.

Grin and Fake It

Its past midnight, the day after the day after Christmas (Dec. 27) and I am (what's a good word to use here? Plagued, Obsessed? Indaunted? Yeah, I'm indaunted by an idea my friend suggested to me on how to cope with life: that one has the ability to trick oneself into believing something, particularly, that you can trick yourself into thinking that you are happy.

I tried her suggestion several times but came to a brutal conclusion: tricking oneself into believing something is the same thing as lying to oneself. I see it as concealing the truth in order to function within a world that asks not what you can do for yourself, but how well you can keeps others happy. I see it as a resistance to address a problem that readily rises to the surface whenever you least expect it to.

I cannot trick myself into doing anything that I don't want to do. Not even for the sake of letting others off the hook from having to address that life is not all smiles and good times. I find it exhausting trying to pretend that things are well when they are clearly not. I guess this makes me a killjoy but feel that I have earned the right to not display the emotions I need to express. Its not selfish. The selfish thing would be to pretend that I am fine until someone gets a call at 3am saying that my suicide attempt failed.

On a side note: I guess the reason I'm bringing up the topic of suicide is because for the last number of months I've had a stronger desire to off myself than I've had since I was a teenager. I'm anxiety-ridden and miserable all the time. And I blame the medication that I'm taking.

I've made the personal decision to stop taking it. I realize that I might always be depressed to a degree because it is apart of my psyche. There's nothing wrong with me for admitting that I have a lot of issues to work through. But I strongly feel that I've run my course with my medication.

So farewell, Celexa. We had a good run and I hope that you can help others through a rough time that you helped me through earlier this year. I sincerely hope that you will be the last anti-depressant I will take over my very long life. Take care.

And with that, the New Year begins.

finding my voice

I read over my earlier posts and I am struck by how simple the writing is to me.

No. Not simple but basic. Basic sentences. Not good writing. More like talking and seeing my verbal phrasing appear on the page.

I'd like to think that my writing skills are above level. But the more that I read exceptional writing, writing that is vivid and sensuous and translating the soul...what I'm trying to say is that I want to work for the ability to write well.

A strong voice and picturesque prose? Edgardo Vega Yunque, Jane Smiley, Cormac McCarthy, Leo Furey and Charles Frazier. I started reading Mr. Frazier's Thirteen Moons last week... I wish I could find the proper words to make you understand how beautiful his characters and their valleys are. I really shouldn't try. Please go pick up a copy from your local library.

I think half my problem is that I am extremely wordy but I've curtailed my ability in order to be clear and straightforward. And my writing is flavorless for it. This is why I love reading so much: I hope that what I read will inspire me to find my voice. Let my voice fully express itself without fear of being judged as trite and without purpose.

I am my own worst critic. But I am also my own best counselor. Good work, no, Great work is worth working hard for. So yes indeed the pen is mightier than the sword.

Dogs and Were-Rabbits

I love dogs. But yesterday as I was walking home from my local polling place, a small black and white dog jumped out at me from a corner, teeth bared. I tried to extend my hand to let him know that I was friendly but he continued to bark and growl at me. I called him a mean little dog.

(I know it isn't my best insult but given the circumstances there really was no other way to put it).

This mean little dog barked and growled and walked in the grass alongside me to make sure I got away from his territory. This dog didn't have a collar and it came from near a large garage so I'm not sure it was his property he was protecting.

My faith in dogs was uplifted today but a viewing of Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit. I know it won an Oscar for best animated film. But I never sat and saw it all the way through until tonight. I laughed outloud at much of the movie. Especially at Gromit because he is CLEARLY the brains of the whole operation.

My favorite scene was when Gromit was sitting in the car waiting for Were-Rabbit to transform. Without looking away from the creature, he reached over with a single finger and pushed the lock on the car door down. When another dog on the outside of the car was begging for him to let him in, Gromit just looked at him and shook his head as if to say, "Hell no". Hilarious!

I miss having a dog/puppy around. I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving when I can play an endless game of fetch with my friend's dog Lucy, the indomitable Jack Russell Terrier of Southern California. Woof!

Hmmm.....

Alas, Halloween has come and gone. My costume is in the bottom of my closet already. I'm wondering how much more candy I can eat before I literally explode! But let the holiday season continue because now I am closer to eating a wonderful home cooked meal and buying presents for my dear loved ones.

This week has flown by much faster than I had expected. I spent my last week working at this wonderful company. I was running around and had so much to do before 5. I kinda feel like if I can get through Thursday evening, I will be ok!

I have a powerpoint presentation that I need to work on. But nothing is getting done until I am more awake and I eat something. Hunger does not a happy person make me. (Grammatically incorrect but the sentiment is right).

Celebrating the Holidays (Halloween Costumes Everyone!!! - 11 days and counting!)

I was raised a JW (hint: the people who knock on your door at 8am on a Saturday, attempting to bring the occupier the 'word of God'). So all pagan holidays were off-limits. No christmas, no halloween, and especially NO birthdays!I understand exactly why my parents' religion looked down upon these holidays, but for a young girl growing up in a state that is beautiful during the Autumn season, not dressing up as Rainbow Brite sucked royally!

(I don't think my parents realized that after the age of 10, me and my siblings would sneak out and go trick-or-treating for at least an hour every Halloween).

Fast-forward to my college days and I was finally free to practice and believe whatever the hell I wanted (owing to the fact that I lived on the other side of the country, the west coast).

And how did I celebrate my liberation? By planning my Halloween costume six months in advance!!!!

When fall rolls around every year, I get giddy. I start singing Christmas songs and questioning my friends about their choice for Halloween costumes and candy and festive lights and streamers....... ok, calm down, honey. No wonder my friends all start lamenting, "Oh God, now Justina can sing all the Christmas Carols she wants!"

Its just that I'm so happy to be a pagan like everyone else in America right now! (Well, for one day out the year!)

So, I finally figured out what my costume is going to be. The great thing is that I had it in my closet for the last three years!

Ready????

I'm going to be the Karate Kid

Ok, strike that. The Taekwondo Kid because that is what my uniform is for. I just need a rising sun bandanna like Daniel-san (Ha ha, Mr. Miyagi!) and I hope I can get a different colored belt (red, maybe, so I look more professional).

I was originally out looking for a witch's hat, when it dawned upon me that, shit, I was a witch for like three years in a row. Enough. Time to cut the cord. I thought about being Athena until I realized that there was a good chance of someone showing up at the party wearing the same costume.

I think I'm just happy that I'll be wearing pants (even though they are white) and be barefoot all night and I didn't have to slut it up like more girls my age!

So, the big question becomes, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING FOR HALLOWEEN????

No pressure, you have 11 days and counting.....

A Day (ok, two weeks) of Rest

I've been off from work for two weeks. I spent the first week stressing out because I felt guilty for not working. My brain is wired to be always on the go, so not going to work was physically and emotionally painful. To top it off, I was studying for a couple of midterms and deriding myself for not being adept at drawing graphs. I my stomach churned all week. I was making myself sick for no good reason.

But now, as I sit in bed reading, at the end of what seems like to me a very short two weeks.

Now, I feel extremely grateful that I took this time to deal with the emotions that left me anxiety-ridden and in pools of tears. I needed to release what was engorged in my lungs for so long.

These two weeks also made me realize that I really need to change jobs/careers. This is why I'm so focused on taking night classes and applying graduate school. I want to work so that I can open doors for myself. If I stay with the career path that I am in now, I'm for certain going nowhere fast. Plus, I don't want to be bitter about living in San Francisco anymore. Been there, exhausted that.

The rain that has patched our foggy skies has been a unexpected comfort. Maybe I am like Shirley Manson in that I'm only happy when it rains. But the trickles of precipitation clean the sidewalk surface and give me a reason to smile at my own reflection in passing puddles.


I will return to work on Monday well rested and excited that i will have a break from work midweek. I'm taking Wednesday off so that I can attend a graduate school fair at a local university.

I will greatly miss not waking up until 10 a.m. and having every excuse in the world to sleep more or go to check out Halloween costumes.

Life, at this particular moment, is comforting. Thanks to the rain.