| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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Tomorrow I leave for Billings. Sunday morning I fly to Philadelphia. This is my last night in my house here. I put our students on the bus today for the last time, and one of my students came off the bus crying, and she flung herself into my arms from the bus steps and told me she didn't want me to leave. I told her I'd miss her and that I'd be back to see her before she left elementary school, and I couldn't talk after that because I didn't want both of us to be crying. I just hugged her for a few minutes while the other kids left, and then I put her back on the bus and we waved to each other until the bus turned the corner and I couldn't see her anymore. I love that little girl. I pray that she'll be okay at home. Both of her parents are meth users. I have her address and will send her postcards during the year, and I hope her mother gives them to her. I know I have to leave, because it's right for me to go back to school and get my degree in a field that excites me and makes me feel like I was born for it, but it is so hard to leave this place! So hard. I wonder if Shane felt like this. "Shane, come back! Come back, Shane!" I always thought Shane was such a hard-ass. But I'm not done with Montana yet. |
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it'll be fine. a friend of mine recently left her husband and is living in the hood in an apartment by herself.** it's the first time she's ever lived alone. she put a buch of broken glass on a towel in front of the front door or the apartment, and she has a knife next to her bed. but don't worry. you'll be fine. you'll start to love it in a few weeks. ** among other reasons, she left him because she found photos in her husband's corvette's owners manual about 25 photos that he's taken of random women's asses, and it appears from the photos that the women have no idea that he is sneaking these photos of them. |
On that note, I have to report that if I'm going to die, please, God, let it be quick. If you're going to kill me, just shoot or stab me and get it over with -- please don't kidnap me and chain me to your basement for weeks of torture. If I'm going to be in a car crash, just let me die -- no lingering deaths or lingering suffering, please. If my house is going to burn down, just let it take me -- I don't want any 36 months of skin grafts and physical therapy, or worse, anything which leaves me unable to communicate, thereby imprisoning me in my own body. I'm only going to be alone for 4 nights, as my brother gets in on Wednesday. I loved living alone, but I was alone in an apartment building. Living alone in a house would take some getting used to. Glass on a towel, huh? That's ingenious. |
That's funny. Nate was doing this at SorabjiFest2001 in NOLA. :) |
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yeah, well when nate does it, it's funny and predictable. when other people do it, it's criminal and weird. how many pictures of my ass did nate get? my ass looked so much better back in '01. i'd like to get my hands on those photos so i can remember what it was like to fit into those size 6 jeans. |
that and the pineapple jizz cocktail are so new to me. |
For dinner I had chicken marsala with linguine, asparagus with balsamic vinegar, and later I will make a sweet bruschetta from Alton Brown with strawberries, mint, and mascarpone cheese over pecan bread drizzled with honey. It's like the kitchen of gluttony over here. I toast my blackberry Italian soda to you all. |
*Bread (could be raisin bread, bread with nuts, or, as I will use, multigrain bread) -- sliced and oven-toasted *3 TBSP honey *4 - 6 strawberries, sliced *1/4 cup mascarpone cheese *several mint leaves, cut into ribbons Toast bread. Mix honey and mascarpone, then spread on bread. Lay down mint ribbons, then strawberries, then drizzle a little honey on top. E dopo, mangiate. Quando ero nell'aeroplano, c'erano due uomini italiani seduti avvicino a me, e perché non posso parlare l'italiano molto bene, praticavo parlare con loro nei miei pensieri. |
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oooooo I'll do the sugar and balsamic vinegar tomorrow. Thanks for the tip! |
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So, thanks for the dream. |
my first spanish teacher was cuban and taught us to pronounce "ll" with a "j" sound - como te jamas? to this day i still do that occasionally. last night i had a dream that i was a young asian girl and i was living in this huge, ultra-modern apartment complex that had elevated highways around it - rising high above it like white ribbons. something was happening - an earthquake or something else, some unnamed disaster - and i remember i was running through a huge foyer as bricks fell from a ceiling that was too high for me to even see. as i ran i could see the bricks hit and bring down other people, but i grabbed some big coffee table book from one of the tables there and ran outside. there everything seemed calm and i watched the cars moving on the white ribbon. but i new it was a lie. all the destruction was still going on and this was just a hallucination. then i woke up gasping for breath. sometimes, if i sleep in the wrong position, it will cut off my air supply some how. it cuases weird dreams like this. |
I occasionally have dreams in which I'm drowning or someone's choking me (and in this case, it's usually something unseen that's picking me up by my throat and holding me in the air), and when I wake up I'm gasping for breath. I don't know if I sleep apnea or if perhaps at the time I had a cold and couldn't breathe through my nose (I can't remember if there is a correlation) or what, but....I feel you. And I dream of running And in the dream I myself could run And I feel the ground beneath my feet And I move like music, You move me like music (PJ Harvey) |
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last night i dreamt that my ring finger was disfigured and had gangrene. |
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lasted for hours (seriously -- 3 hours), in the middle of which our power went out. This was around midnight. I'm one of Those People who need noise when I sleep, so I buckled down and fell asleep while the rain was still falling (for the noise, you see -- plus, I can't tell you when the last time I fell asleep listening to rain was. Two years ago, at the least.). Sadly for me, I woke up at 2:15 and all was silent. So then I couldn't sleep. And then the anxiety set it -- when will the power come back? When will the food in the refridgerator go bad? What will we do if the power isn't back in the morning? Should we leave the windows open or will the Ungodly Blanket-like Humidity seep into the house and make me want to cry? Does the power company work to repair downed lines in the middle of the night? When do they start working? When will I move to Boston? Where will I live? What if I live somewhere unsafe? What if I don't get a job? Why did I register for that night class? What if I'm routinely scared witless walking back from that class every Thursday night? What if I'm assaulted? When will my loan come in? What if I don't have any money? Where will I get the money for the new jeans I need? Should I have someone come and fix my dad's computer while he's gone or should I wait for him to come home? What if he's killed in a plane crash? What if -- even worse -- he's not killed but left trapped in his own body, unable to communicate, for years and years? What if that happens to me somehow? What if I can't kill myself? The power came back at 5:15, and then I slept until noon. No dreams. |
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I started reading (by candlelight) Ray Bradbury's story "Long Past Midnight" and he describes that hour of night so well; it's like you can't imagine the sun rising. it's beyond belief. That's a strange story, by the way. I don't understand it. |