Friday, March 20, 2009

Too Much

I think too much, my darling
Every second is consumed
With musings and conjecture
Every hour passes a sentence
On my lascivious heart

I feel too much, my darling
The ups and downs of your every smile
Move my emotions as deftly as a puppeteer
Anesthetize my soul with a kiss
Quiet my conscience with sweet whispers

Reach your arms around me, darling
Hold me close for I fear so many things
Only the warmth of your embrace keeps me sane
Only the power of your eyes makes me forget
All the reasons why this shouldn't be

Reach your arms around me, darling
Patch the holes of my psyche
Don't let go, love,
I don't know how long I have
before I crack again

On Living On My Own

Monday, March 16, 2009

It has been a year . . .

since I moved in with my aunt and grandmother. My time there has alternated between being the best times of my life to ones filled with stress and worry.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Friendship - Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Oh, the comfort —
the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person —
having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words,
but pouring them all right out,
just as they are,
chaff and grain together;
certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them,
keep what is worth keeping,
and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

The Best Loved Poems of the American People (1936)

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


I had every step of Thornburg memorized from my house on Alvin all the way past Fesler, down to Cypress. I'd go down this street to go to junior high, to church, to my beloved library. I'd fallen on it (and scraped my knee pretty badly), hit a truck while riding my bike, gazed at cute, unattainable neighbor boys, and made friends with its inhabitants. As I grew older, Thornburg was where I strolled with my first love and where he stole his first kiss on my cheek. It was a street that featured in my dreams and nightmares long after I moved away from my hometown. And though I wasn't much of an adventurer, this was a street that I could travel with complete ease because I knew what was around every corner.

But this post isn't necessarily about Thornburg. Thornburg was the way that I went to another hallowed part of my child hood: Veteran's Memorial Park. I have a lot of stories to say about that place from my childhood to my teenage days. When I was 5, my brother broke a bottle over my head there; I discovered that I had not invented the word carnation inside the Veteran's Memorial Hall; and later on, I made out with my boyfriend behind the bushes at the back of the hall. But this is more about the playground at the park.

Veteran's Memorial Park had a sand playground in the shape of a large oval. The playground had a merry-go-ring, a slide shaped like a rocket, balancing rails, and monkey bars. I would hold my breath every time as I rounded the corner on El Camino, wondering if I would see children playing at the park. This thrill of anticipation was sometimes too much to bear. When I would see them, I would get so happy. They were usually kids I didn't know, so there was no fear that they would think I was strange or reject me. I was the most outgoing child you could imagine on these days. I don't remember a single name of the children I played with on those days. But they validated my existence. They made me feel like in an alternate reality, I could be a normal person and have friends just like everyone else. Their happiness in my presence was as narcissistic as any mirror, but more innocent than that. THEY were my first social experiments, and for that I write about them and thank these anonymous beings.

Having friends now reminded me of those days, and about the park, and about Thornburg. I looked up the area on Google Maps and realized that I had so much history within one square mile of this area. My cousin and best friend Evelyn lived on Lincoln, the next street parallel to Thornburg on the east. My friend Terry Villapondo lived three houses down from her, and I once lived in an apartment on El Camino and Lincoln with my stepdad Bill, mom, and siblings. Parallel to Lincoln on the east was Broadway, where I got hit by a car when I was 5, which is also where Bill's Takeout was (best fries ever).

For now, the reminiscing ends.

Friday, March 6, 2009


Tonight I undergo a sleep study for sleep apnea. According to the literature, a technician will attach a multitude of electrodes to various parts of my body. During the first 3-4 hours, they will record my normal sleep patterns. The technologist will tally how many "events" occur. Then if I meet the criteria, I will be placed on a CPAP device, which is a mask that goes over my nose and around my head. It is a device that acts like a splint to keep my airways open. I am apprehensive, but it seems like an interesting experience.

Overall, my health has been improving and I feel like things are changing inside my body. I've lost a total of 21 lbs from my heaviest weight, and a total of 11 lbs since the beginning of this year. It is not rapid weight loss, but I think it is an enduring loss, so I have cause to be proud. I am using a website to track my daily calories. I eat what I like, but I am more conscious of portion size and variety.

My diabetes has not returned. All my blood glucose (A1C) tests have come back in the normal range. My thyroid levels are great with medication. Things on looking good.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Friendship, Friendship, Such a Perfect Blendship

Spanning back to my first diaries, there are countless references in my writing regarding friends and my lack thereof. From gradeschool, I yearned to have more friends but never quite knew how to get them or what to do when I had them. Every new school year I would vow to make more friends; I would be more outgoing and more enjoyable to be around. And every year the first days of school would pass and I would again retreat into my world of books. As I got older and more isolated, I found that most of my friends were made online, which I considered a very safe environment, or they were coworkers. I would second-guess my ability to deal with other human beings.

Things are so different now. I have friends in the tangible world. When I go to karaoke, people greet me by name, give me hugs, rave about my singing, and ask me if I will be there again. Do you know how long I have waited for people to say those things to me? It is so amazing. Last night I was invited to join a group of women on their weekly "Night Out." They go to each others homes, bring an appetizer and wines, and just talk and relax. It is a dream come true!