Category: Emotions


Hey I’m back!

Filed under: Emotions, Manhattan, Miscellanea, Personal not private, Work
April 25, 2013

I stopped writing about my commute because I was tired of writing the same thing everyday. I figured everyone must be tired of reading it too. Then I changed to the #4 and it just sat there! There were 5 million people on the train and it only holds 2 million etc. Anyway, things have changed in my commute.

The first thing is my route to the subway station has changed. This is the sidewalk I normally walk on to get to the subway. I don’t know what they are doing here but the sidewalk is almost completely blocked off. This picture was taken on my way home, in the morning the workers are there and you can’t walk up nearly this far. So they have made a ‘pedestrian walkway’.
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Which is just cones put out on the road to re-direct traffic, and this is a rather narrow road, it makes more sense to walk on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Which I would do except,
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IMG_1558They are working on the entrance to the subway, so I have to cross the street anyway. So walking down to 96th Street is really the best way to go except, there is a fruit stand at 95th and 3rd where I like to get my breakfast, and being human I am a creature of habit and automatically turn left at 95th street. I also don’t like having to change my routine. After two years of walking the same way to the subway I have to do something different and it annoys me. So I come here to vent and to post pictures, I am really just trying to get back into the habit of writing so if this bores you or YOU are annoyed that with all the bad things happening lately I am going on about having to change my routine, I’m sorry I’m not sorry. Meaning I don’t feel bad about writing this. Because of all the bad that happened last week, I need to get back to my routine and the MTA is not helping! If you are still reading this, thank you for reading and I promise I’ll get better.

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Outrage part 7

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff
March 29, 2013

Rape10
It would be nice, if it was just this easy, but it’s not, because of the reasons for rape and because like it or not we live in a rape culture, just telling people to not rape is not enough.

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Outrage part 6

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff

Rape09

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Outrage part 5

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff

Rape08

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Outrage part 4

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff

No I’m not surprised that people believe this. There are people out there who believe men rape because they are not getting enough sex at home. Excuse me while I go bang my head against a post.
Rape07

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Outrage part 3

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff

This is a rugby player (for those of you who don’t know) and I don’t know if he actually said this, of course the cynical side of me says, well of course he doesn’t have to wait for a girl to get drunk he can just hold her down, look how big he is. Sometimes I hate myself.

Rape06
Now before you think I am just some fucking man-hating bitch that thinks every man is a rapist, I didn’t say he would, I said he could. That is part of the problem, men don’t realize that by their size alone they can be threatening and frightening to women, it does no good to say, “But I would never” because you’ve already caused fear and distress by just not realizing how threatening you just are. You just are.

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Outrage part 2

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff

Rape05

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Outrage

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends

I read another article, blaming the victim, which has fueled my outrage regarding how women are treated in this world, and so the next 6 or 7 posts might be a little offensive.

Rape01

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Pessimism

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Personal not private
March 6, 2013

A line I often hear is “Prepare for the worst but expect the best”. I have my own version, “I prepare for the worst because I expect the worst”. It does no good for people, even people I trust, to say, “Don’t worry” or “Don’t be a pessimist”, this is how I am. A pessimist is what I am and worry is what I do. Here’s some examples.

This Thursday, tomorrow actually, I am going to a hockey game. Not my first professional hockey game, but my first NHL hockey game. I’m excited, I’m nervous, I’M GOING TO DIE. When I ordered the tickets, my first worry was “Will I get them in time?”, the website promised me I would. Then the ticket was being shipped FedEx, I worried that FedEx would lose them, then when I got the sticker on my door I worried that I would get to the FedEx place and the envelope would be on the truck. All of those worries were groundless and I got my ticket. Interestingly, I didn’t worry about getting murdered while walking through the Bronx in the dark. I guess once I do something and don’t die, I’m invincible.

However, that is not the end of my worries. I have to go by train to Penn Station in Newark, then walk to the Prudential Center. Neither of which I have done before. Besides that, they are now forecasting a storm for tonight leading into tomorrow. So I am either going to get lost going there, get stuck on a snowed in train or die in Newark. I haven’t decided which of those things is the worst. Also, since I’m a Sabres fan and I’m going to the game in New Jesey, I worry that I’ll get pummeled by Devils fans. Paul assured me that won’t happen. I’m still worried.

The reality is, everything will most likely be fine. I’ve been thinking that the worst is going to happen and I’m not going to survive for most of my life. Usually the worst doesn’t happen, sometimes it has, but I’m still here. In fact I am now living my dream. Of course that may end at any moment. **Did I leave the stove on?**

On to the next subject, my friend is coming to visit tonight. She was planning on coming down tomorrow but because of said storm. In her text she says, “Don’t drive yourself crazy cleaning.” Because every time she says she’s coming I say: “I have to clean!” She says, “I don’t care, it doesn’t have to be spotless.” And I think, it’s far from spotless it’s a freakin’ filthy mess! See?

IMG_1556IMG_1557 Maybe not. However I remember her telling me how important it would be for me to keep my apartment clean. As in, “You’ll get bugs if you don’t” and “If I come to your apartment and find it’s not clean ….”, I don’t remember what she said she would do. In fact she may have never even said that it may just be a figment of my overactive pessimistic imagination. Since she has been here before and is coming again I probably shouldn’t worry, of course there is the worry that she doesn’t really like my apartment, although why that should be important to me I have no idea. P.S. I don’t have bugs.

Now that I have laid bare my faults to you, I’m going to get off the computer and go clean. Later. Did I mention I’m really good at procrastinating?

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The moment of loss

Filed under: Emotions, Family N Friends, Important Stuff, Personal not private
January 31, 2013

When I was 17 my grandmother had major surgery. She had an aneurysm in one of the arteries leading to her brain, or away from the brain, I can’t remember is veins go to the brain or arteries, but it was a major blood vessel and the surgery was a big deal. As the doctors explained it, an aneurysm is like a balloon, and what the doctors planned to do was clamp the aneurysm at the neck, then since blood is no longer feeding it, it shrivels up and is no longer a threat to burst and bleed and kill her. The surgery was not a success, when the doctors got in there it was too big, the aneurysm was sitting on the artery and the doctors couldn’t get to the neck to clamp it off. So instead they closed off the artery and ‘redirected’ the blood. So she lived, sort of, she was paralyzed on one side of her body and spent the rest of her life not able to care for her basic needs. I remember so many details of that trip to see her when I was 17, I remember one of my tops was lavender and gauzy, I remember after she got out of intensive care she was on the 6th floor, I was knitting a baby blanket for a friend. I vividly remember my grandfather crying in the waiting room and my aunt telling someone (not me specifically) that her husband (who had been sitting next to my grandfather) told her, “I hope I die before you.” She told him that was selfish, he said: “I know.” He also got his wish.

For the past week, ever since I started thinking about writing this post I have tried to remember when she died, I am ashamed to say I can’t. I remember I was sitting at home watching T.V. and a friend of my brother’s was over, we were watching some comedy when the phone rang. But I don’t remember when that happened. I didn’t go to her funeral, I made some excuse about not being able to get time off from work, the truth was I didn’t even ask for the time because I didn’t want to go. That’s the truth, maybe I should add “World’s Worst Granddaughter” to my list of titles. The real truth was, I lost her when I was 17, not when she died.

My grannie was a strong woman who bore 6 children and raised 4 of them to adulthood and buried 2. She was a woman who didn’t let an ice storm keep her from doing her laundry, she hammered nails through pieces of plywood and tied them to her feet so she could make it to the laundry room. When her husband (my grandfather) complained she wasn’t putting enough starch in the wash she proceeded to starch his undershorts (he meant his shirts needed more starch, as far as I know he never complained about the laundry again). When the nasty old rooster spurred her and knocked her glasses off, she grabbed his head and twisted it clean off his body, into the stew pot he went! My father reports that she cooked him for three days and that old bird was still too tough to eat. She hiked to the top of a mountain, part of the hike involved climbing up rock, with her grandchildren, and was not impressed by the Grand Canyon, just a big hole in the ground. That was my grannie, not this frail woman lying in a hospital bed not able to eat, or dress herself or even talk.

Last Saturday my best friend’s mother died. She was a great lady, her daughter is my best friend in the whole wide world and I called her mother Mom. She considered me her fourth daughter. She had Alzheimer’s which is a terrible disease that before it kills you steals your personality. My friend told me that after her last visit home. Now I wonder if she started to mourn her mother during that visit, and now feels guilty thinking that she gave up on her mom too soon. I have no answers for her, she loved her mom, her mom knew that, even if she forgot it in the end it certainly wasn’t my friend’s fault. My heart hurts for her.

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