It only gets colder

As you head up north in the winter. An obvious statement for some, but something I dared not think about until I actually got my large but lovely derriere on a bus and headed to Montreal. Then off to Quebec City, which is where I am now, as I type this. Why? you may ask, and some of you may already know the answer, but for those who don’t “why” is a crooked letter. At least that’s what my mother always told me when I asked too many questions. If you really want to know - just ask and ye shall receive. And if you don’t care, then I could care hah…

Not really. But it sounds better to say I don’t care about you if you don’t care about me…doesn’t it? How often do we not really care about what other people think of us? And how much should we care anyway?

I care about what the people I care about think about me. But that doesn’t change my decisions or actions. Perhaps it should, but I know that ultimately I am the only one who has to live with my decisions. No one else has to live with you. They can walk away if they don’t like what you have to say/do/be…but you can’t. You are stuck with you. Kind of makes you realize that no matter where you are in life, you are always a little more alone than you thought.

So stop thinking. And love yourself already. Dammit.

The State of the Union


is so messed up..i laughed A LOT..and then i realized the fact that i was laughing was even scarier than how funny the state of the union actually was. and i realized some people believe all this rhetoric. and i am quiet again. stunned actually. speechless. and very, very afraid.
did anyone else watch this propaganda?

The Teacup Ride

teacup.jpg (I do not know these people, nor do I want to)

The teacup ride will always haunt me because it was one of the youngest forms of abuse that I remember willingly inflicting on myself. Every amusement park from Adventureland to Disneyland has or had one - a spinning, whirling, thrilling movement ride that was supposed to be fun for the whole family! It made me sick, as in likely to vomit, or at least extremely nauseous and at the brink of upchucking every single f***ing time.

Still I spun. I got on those stupid cups until the age of 14 or so. And without fail when the ride was over, I would realize that I couldn’t walk straight or continue to hold down solid foods. But those first moments were always laugh out loud funny, and I remember thinking that every time I got in those damn cups it would be different, for once I wouldn’t get sick, but without fail I puked.

I was tough and maybe that was how I showed it, but I won’t ride the teacups anymore. Once I discovered not giving in to peer pressure was cool enough for me, I stopped riding what I refered to as hell on a saucer. And now I don’t need the teacups to make me laugh, scream or puke, I can do that all by myself!

I am on the brink between self discovery and realization. It’s like who I have been was basic training for where I will go. Sort of like a really good nose blowing. All this stuff comes out and then you have to collect it, keep the big chunks and throw the rest away. Or is that only me?

So the teacups, self abuse, masochistic tendencies, preparation H. One of these things is not like the others, one of these things does not belong. (A Sesame Street digression)…

I am sure there are earlier forms of abuse as well. I used to pick my gums until they bled, and I remember feeling the deep cavernous trenches oozing with warmth in the top of my mouth. I still pick my nails til their red. But I’ve never thrown up from biting my nails or picking my gums. Throwing up was something I reserved for the teacup ride. Now I make adult decisions that make me nauseous and scared and excited and give me that ‘about to drop over the top of the coaster’ feeling.

So today, right now, I am almost packed into my two bag existence. And then the world will be my oyster, or at least that’s the cheesiest line I can think of right now. Whatever. At least I don’t ever have to ride the teacups again.

Back and Forth and Back and Forth

Everything happens for a reason, even if we don’t think it does and even if there is no logical explanation.
I have been out of touch.
My bad.
But I have been all over the place. Driving. Across les Etats Unis. Route 80 all the way.
But now I am in New York. The end of the road so to speak.
And within the next two weeks I am heading back to San Francisco.
For Part II.
And I will write so much more sooner than you think.

The New Year

So its 2004, something that it will no doubt take me weeks to remember to write on anything I date, especially now that I am not “dating” things on a regular basis. In more ways than one actually, but that’s another story for another day.

Today is not just another day, it’s another year. And although I know lots of bah- humbugs who hate to celebrate the New Year, it’s one tradition I have really come to appreciate. I think it’s nice to have a day where we can officially start over. While I made no resolutions this year, I look at New Years as the lemon sorbet in between courses at a really fancy restaurant. It’s given to us to refresh our mouths and cleanse our palettes. And instead of making resolutions, I am going to make things happen. On another note: I am not really fond of the lemon sorbet, I am just fond of using it as an analogy.

Here’s what I know about me in 2004. I am going to live my life in a grand way. I am going to take the biggest chances I have ever taken and live the least material life I have ever lived. I am going to live in different countries and make sure I take as much as I can from each new experience. And although I have a plan of action, I accept and embrace the one thing I know for sure, that the only thing constant is change.

What do you know about you in 2004? Who will you be?

Happy New Year.

© Copyright Jamye Waxman M.Ed.