Always Something, Sometimes Nothing

a short poem

It will always be somewhere
Floating around in space
Waiting for it's time
While praying for it's death

It has no choice in many matters
Where it goes
How it gets there
Or if it ever will

It was once a butterfly
Now back in a cocoon
Dreaming of spreading it's wings once again
Trying to remember the last time it did

Harmonica makes me weep

To all my faithful blog readers (and friends)...

I have to come clean about something.

I have been trying to be strong. I have been trying to move on. I have been trying to forget. But I can't.

I miss her so much. I never realized how much of my life was her: depended on her, endeared her, made her a part of me and me a part of her.

I still don't know for certain if I miss her or just the feeling of being with someone. But that seems to have less and less bearing as the days pass. It's being with someone who happens to be her that I miss.

I've lost my orbit.

You can't spell Victim Impact Panel without Victim Impact

Today started out like most days for the typical blue collar working folk: up by eight, work by nine. I on the other hand, have not been up at eight for... well let's just say I don't recall the last time I was awake at 8AM and sober. But I had to work today at nine, or at least thought I did.

Apparently it's tomorrow that I work at nine. So, I did what any other self-respecting, underemployed, broke as a joke person would do - stood in line for food stamps. There is something refreshing about saying that out loud (via blog). It's probably just the middle-class, suburban roots, but when I even think food stamps, I picture Cabrini Green: single mother, five kids in a two bedroom apartment, trading diapers for crack (somebody's getting the raw end of that deal). I am aware that is extremely ignorant, but blame my stupid background!

Anyhow, when you approach the check-in counter at the Department of Human Services (after being politely scolded by the security guard (yes, they have a security guard), and are asked to repeat yourself, you feel a sense of shame stating "I'm looking to apply for food stamps," twice.

So, there it is; in black and white for the world to see. I applied for food stamps today. And you know what? I hold no shame! You know why? Because since the day my father lost his six figure income, my family and I have been nothing but screwed over by this wretched government of ours, and I am more than willing to take any penny they are willing to hand out to me. As a matter of fact, I have made it my goal to enroll in school this fall, finish my Associate's degree, obtain my Bachelors, and possibly even attend Grad school... all on the government's dime. The system is flawed and I will find the loopholes, jump through the hoops, lie, cheat and steal (okay, maybe not steal or kill - wait, did I even say kill?) to get Uncle Sam to bow down to me for once! I want revenge!!! (And a fancy piece of paper that declares my smartness.)

Speaking of evil empires and corrupt systems (namely judicial)...

So, after trying to coerce the government into buying me lunch meat and milk, I went back home for a short nap and to grab my things, then hit the road. My destination: Cook County District Courthouse #3, Rolling Meadows, Illinois. I had a 3PM meeting with my Court Operator* Iris Martinez. (*It's what her card says, but in regular talk, a probation officer for misdemeanors, and also a very nice lady.) I left Champaign with three and a half hours to arrive on time. Things were going very smoothly until I reached the 'burbs. They must have known I was coming: traffic jam on I-80. Thankfully, my friend Ben sent me an alternate route and I was on my way.

I arrived at the courthouse a few minutes late, but I called Ms. Martinez, and she was cool with my tardiness. (I know what you're thinking, a cool, non-postal worker, government employee!? But they do exist.) Things went smoothly, until she tried to seduce me, but I straightened her out, and was on my way to my Ma's house in B-town for a home cooked meal. My favorite too, Salmon!

Ate dinner, chatted it up a bit Mom, and headed back to good ol' Rolling Meadows for my Victim Impact Panel thingy (another requirement of my DUI).**

So, I'm driving along 290 West, headed towards the Kirchoff exit and I notice that traffic is getting backed up. In an effort to not be late to another court-ordered bull shit mess, I decide to take the Kirchoff exit, as opposed to the Euclid, which I otherwise have always taken. (If you're not from the suburbs or city, you're probably getting lost here - stick with it.)

Suddenly I realize that my seatbelt is not on. Nothing new, I have been really bad about seatbelt use of late. However, I decide to buckle up, thinking in the back of my mind shit, what if I get in an accident without it on? Sure enough, I'm headed down Euclid, approaching the light at Rhowling....

Light turns yellow...

I panic (thanks a lot photo-enforced camera red light ticket thingys!)...

I brake
I look in the rearview
I see a big SUV coming at me...
Let off the brake, attempt to speed up-

BAM!

My small little VW Golf just got sent at least 50 yards, across the intersection, passed oncoming traffic, in rush our traffic...

I'm bouncing back and forth, without enough time to even panic, when suddenly the car comes to a halt, I fly forward, backward, and repeat, finally slowing my small, thin frame enough to see my sunroof collide with my windshield and glass fly everywhere.

I see smoke, or what I think is smoke coming from the back of the car. I try to exit - no luck. I reach for the passenger door and escape, dazed and confused, in the middle of traffic.

My first instinct is to see if the guy in the SUV is okay. He's on the phone in his undamaged Chevy Trailblazer.

The next few minutes are a blur, bit finally the cops showed up and ticketed the dude, had my car towed, as I walked across the street and waited for a ride.

I missed my victim impact panel. But I'm okay.

Lesson learned: Don't drink and drive. If I had never gotten the initial DUI, I would not be in this situation.

Thanks, Karma.

**For more information on my DUI, please see past entries.

I hate everything my life has become OR I'm at the bottom looking up

I should be in bed right now, sleeping. I worked until 2AM this morning and am scheduled to be back at work at 9AM. I'm pretty sure that is against the law, but right now, beggars can't be choosers. Besides, it's only a three hour shift, before I hit the road for Rolling Meadows. Appointment with my P.O. (not really a P.O. but a)I don't know her real title and b) it sounds way more badass. Anyhow, I can't sleep so I might as well write, right?

My life has almost never been in my own control. It's had it's moments, but ultimately, I have just been along for the ride, taking the good with the bad.

Currently, it's a dichotomous mix. I am underemployed in a terrible job market. I am barely making ends meet. I am missing so many people, so many relationships I fucked over. (Specifically one.) But at the same time, I'm optimistic about the future. I am willing to start anew, and taking any and every opportunity that comes my way. A few have... mostly the ones that don't pay much, but a couple that could lead to better things...

Problem is, I don't have time to waste. Maybe that is why I can't sleep: I'm too worried that when I wake up, I'll be back where I started- an underemployed, lifeless version of the me that "could have been."

I just need a little help. Well, maybe more than a little, but not that much. I just need a few good words of wisdom, inspiration and hope. A few dollars. A few leads. A positive attitude, and the courage to stand up for myself, be confident and make some good decisions - not just one or two, but like five or six, consecutive good decisions that would send me down the right path.

Ok, so maybe I am asking for A LOT of help.

Anyhow, that's my peace for the night.

Night, all!

My fives (pt. 1)

My five greatest memories...
(in order of best to greatest)

5th Grade: O.M. meet, taking second place. But more importantly, having fun with my friends.

First grade: first kiss.

Junior Year (High School): First prom date (though we didn't end up going).

A beautiful Easter Day, around age 5: Mowing the lawn with my Dad.

August 28, 2004: Every part of it.

Dear Chicago

Dear Chicago,
You'll never guess.
You know the girl you said I'd meet someday?
Well, I've got something to confess.
She picked me up on Friday.
Asked me if she reminded me of you.
I just laughed and lit a cigarette,
Said "that's impossible to do."
My life's gotten simple since.
And it fluctuates so much.
Happy and sad and back again.
I'm not crying out to much.
Think about you all the time.
It's strange and hard to deal.
Think about you lying there.
And those blankets lie so still.
Nothing breathes here in the cold.
Nothing moves or even smiles.
I've been thinking some of suicide.
But there's bars out here for miles.
Sorry about the every kiss.
Every kiss you wasted (bad / back)
I think the thing you said was true,
I'm going to die alone and sad.

The wind's feeling real these days.
Yeah, baby, it hurt's me some.
Never thought I'd feel so blue.
New York City, you're almost gone.
I think that I've fallen out of love,
I think I've fallen out of love . . . with you.

I just want to fall out of love already...

Forcing myself to write

Even if it's just a free write

Listening to Pete Yorn. Missing old friends. Mostly Mikey W.

Missing New Year's Eve. Missing summer. And High school.

Why can't i focus on the future anymore? It's all about the past. Makes me wanna peace out. Or at least start over. Guess that is what I am trying to do.

I hate contractions.

Will anyone understand me? She's out there. She has got to be.

Back to magnetic shit.

Life is a crazy thing. Writing about it is really hard.