i Wish i Could Be On Time!

26 July 2004

I’m here in the corner
Watching as they strap you down
For safety because you can’t keep from cutting
Cutting all the time
Making beautiful pictures on your arms
Saving the fine-tuning for later
I’m here in the corner
When the nurse is talking to your parents
That don’t give a damn whether you live or die
Just don’t let it happen on my time is the family motto
As your mom paints her yellowed toenails so that her toes will look pleasing in her K-mart sandals for her boss
who sits with the live plant
That is watered more than you
I’m here in the corner
as they tell you to swallow all those pills
The ones that are big and soft colored
And are supposed to help you
With the hot air that twirls around the room
Making you dizzy and nauseous
I’m here in the corner
When you are in group therapy
Filling out meaningless worksheets about time management
As they search your room
Looking for clues of god-knows-what
Thinking you are some Russian spy
Working for the Middle East 
Hiding oil in your underwear
Next they’ll take those away
I’m here in the corner
As you sit in occupational therapy
Painting the little bunny black
Because that is how you see him
I saw him that way too
Sometimes I still do
I’m here in the corner
While the candy stripper watches you eat
Contemplating why you didn’t attempt the cooked carrots
Only later to snitch you out to the doctors
another pill they’ll add
Who knew not eating mushy orange squares was an illness?
I didn’t know either
I’m here in the corner
When the doctor writes down your precious thoughts
Don’t trust anyone
The walls have excellent memory
As they put you on the scale
And make you turn around
Let me whisper the numbers in your ear
It’s only two digits
You’re still on the safe side
I’m here in the corner
When the social worker nods in disbelief
The chart slips from her lap
And flutters in pretentious freedom
Which is a lie
A fabrication of the mind
Nothing is free

25 July 2004

Drop the anchor …I’m back at Bob’s
My friend April was accepted to the nursing program at Miami University, so we decided to celebrate. (I picked the restaurant of course). So there we are sitting at Bahama Breeze, (a very popular restaurant close to where I live), and I encountered one of the most difficult tests of my life. Sure, it sounds easy to some, but for me it was very difficult to not give in to temptation. One of the servers named James, who was not our server for the evening by the way, comes up to the table just to tell me how beautiful I was, or am, whatever; you get my drift. This was hard for a number of reasons. First of all, I have never had anyone tell me that in my life, but most important, this brief encounter has tested my relationship with Wolfe. I have a huge commitment phobia. I want a relationship, at first, but then once I have it, I want it to go away. Too much responsibility for me, you know? So with my thoughts pushing me one way, I told James (the server) thank you, and did not give him my number. April was so proud. I love Wolfe; I have to just keep telling myself that. After dinner April and I decided to go see the newest Blockbuster hit “Anchorman.” It was terrible! No, really. Terrible. I always told myself I would never become one of those uppity grown-ups that couldn’t find laughter from men getting their arms cut off, now look at what I’ve become! I can’t even laugh at the fighting or bad jokes anymore! What will happen next? Moral of the story, don’t see the movie, it sucks. Spend the $9 on something better, like, um, your mom or cat. Friday night I went back to work at Bob’s. I guess I am spoiled or something because I wanted a welcome back party. All I got was the back of the smoking section and a lousily $27. Tonight was much better. Everybody that is anybody at Bob Evans was working, we all had a blast. My little niece is going away to summer camp, and I’m so jealous. Is that wrong?

19 July 2004

Randomness Explored…
By Request
III Parts

Part I
"It went like this… "
I took Wolfe to the airport and it reminded me of all the times I took my ex Ben to that very same terminal. It sucks when they go away. I knew he’d be back, but that wasn’t enough for me. I didn’t want him to leave in the first place. On my way home, I decided I should treat myself. Now let me explain: a poor gal’s version of treating herself includes this: SUBWAY!!!! Hell yea! As I was approaching my car, I fell. The next day my ankle was swollen to the size of a tennis ball. It was broken. So, after my class I went to the hospital. The doctor says to me “how’d you do this anyway?” London: rolls eyes. “Walking” I said. She nodded and examined my foot. Then in defense of my ignorance I said (insert foot in mouth—no pun intended) “you see, it went like this.” I bent my wrist back to demonstrate. I didn’t tell her that I had just hurt my wrist as well. 

Part II
"The First Name Game"
Over two months ago, one of my professors and I got into what some people would call a little “spat.” No big deal, she just wouldn’t talk to me and I obsessed over it and cried for weeks. We had planned on doing this independent study together, but last time I heard that was so high up in the air, I was sure it wasn’t going to happen. I was prepared for the worst, and waiting. Then, I received an email from the professor telling me to come by her office and pick up the first weeks readings. While I should have been rather excited, I wasn’t. I was a nervous wreck. Immediately I called the famous shrink. She gave me good advice; I showered and nervously went to campus. I walked with as much confidence as one could walk with crutches into her office and picked up the readings. Part of me wished it ended here, but it doesn’t. We sat and talked and things felt normal. Like the past few months hadn’t even happened. Then I became concerned. I’ve spent the majority of my summer analyzing the whole situation with my shrink, and dealing with what I call one of the worst break-ups I’ve ever gone through. It was bad because I shouldn’t have asked for anything more than a typical student/professor relationship. I’m the one who screwed up, not her. I just wanted her to adopt me, or love me, anything. That’s not her job. Okay. That’s not her job. During our conversation, she tells me to call her by her first name. Um, so not cool. Hello, I am screaming for boundaries. Right away that inner child of mine popped her head up and thought “huh?” I’m not going to call her by her first name. Let’s just keep things simple. 

Part III
“I hate these fucking statutes!!!”

So there are these new statutes all around Hamilton that look like real people doing real people things: tying their shoes, playing with their children, or reading a book. They really piss me off. I will be crusin’ by in my car blasting “The White Stripes” and look over and see one of these fucking statutes, think it is a real person and smile because the statutes are (once again) doing real people things. But it’s more than this: these statutes are doing innocent things. Things that everyone does. Much like the way that we as a society watch movies and grasp that idea that the characters are being “just like us.” It’s familiarity. We all gotta love it. It’s the small town America that Wolfe loves so much. It’s “Cheers” where everyone knows your name. It’s the difference between Franco-American and Chef Boyardee. I can’t help but hate these fucking statutes because even though I too, tie my shoes, read books, and play, sometimes I don’t feel “real.”
Wolfe came home. He looks good, well-rested, and happy; I’m jealous. Things were going so well, and now everything is scrambled again. I tried not to compliment myself on paying bills because that is my job. I tried not to compliment myself on getting to my class on time because that too, is my job. And yet, I can’t help it. What is wrong with telling yourself “good job?” What is this stigma placed on our society that tells us to not be proud of the few simple things in life we do well? Bills, work, and in some cases, school. I think it was in my rearing that I did not receive such compliments, and therefore it has made me feel like doing the little things are not worthwhile. But they are. I am proud I paid my bills instead of going to Express. I am proud I woke up on time the other day and picked up my friend that I am car-pooling with and we both made it to class on time. I’m proud I’ve been remembering to take my vitamins. Thank you. 

14 July 2004

this is who i am
except it or not
welcome to my world
a vacant lot
its time i released my weakest spot
its swollen & scared
its my tightest tied knot

day in & day out we strive to obtain true happiness.
jealousy.guilt.hatred.regrets.hypocrisy.criticism.judgements flood our brains
and our hearts causing us to deny sympathy.passion.love.honesty.everything
that is good.
but misery.heartache.depression.and lies are sadly all inevitable.
eventually you learn from your mistakes.
my problem is not letting go of my fears and insecurities..
my confidence is nonexistent now.

each relationship molds you into that unique person that you are.
every new relationship guarentees a new quality or a new part of your
personality to become exposed. TIMING IS EVERYTHING.
be content with ur life and live every day to the fullest.
discover what truly makes you happy.

By London's lil' sis
Ms. Natalie Ann

10 July 2004

i'll let the words
surround my head
as i fall into the oblivion of...

Forbidden Lies
Twisted truths
Poker face
Innocent youth
Losing faith
Stack the deck
Load the pot
Stretch your neck
The wire's hot
Smokey fables
Knotted facts
Turn the tables
Stab your back
Bottom of hearts
Pits of hell
It becomes an art
Of i'll never tell

By London's lil' sis
Ms. Natalie Ann

04 July 2004

Happy 4th!!!!!

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