It is 7 25a.m. where I am. I have been woke for 27 hours and have been having a time that I will
remember for the rest of my days. I am in the company of the better half of my family. The blood between this brood is as similar as it gets. The time shared so far has been out of this world. Looking forward to the day.......I need to rest, for real.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Monday, April 2, 2012
Here we go
So it's been decided by my frends that I should note my work experience. Because of the incredible distaste I have for my job, perhaps writing about it will clear my head. So let's start how I got here.
In 2010 I was unemployed because I resigned from my call center position. Not the greatest job, but I had to leave. I have some things that I stand for and equality is high on the list. So after weeks of searching, I joined a employment service that landed me the interview for the current job I have. Before accepting the interview the employment specialist asked me If I really wanted the job because I could do so much better and she could definitely find me something better, but I resigned because I needed to work. So work started, transition started and I eventually remained in the bookstore. This is where the drama begins.
I work in one of Chicago's airport (the smaller one) which means I have face to face contact with the traveling public. While this is not the problem instead the behavior of the traveling public is what I struggle to understand. Initially I have questions of the questions asked of me daily.
We open @ 5 am not 4 51, not 4 55, but 5 am. So wait. If the li'ghts are off and the gate is lowered that is usually a sign that we are not open for business, so don't ask what time we open....read the signs posted in clear view.
"Where's your nearest restroom?" This one is the best. My first response is this (thought I don't say it) It's probably close to the sign that says RESTROOM. Or, my closest rest room is in my bedroom since I don't own the airport restrooms. But I digress and respond they're on either side of the concourse... READ THE SIGNS.
This next one gets me the most. From a first look into the bookstore there are books galore, and because of the space there are just books no hidden magazine racks, no hidden water cooler, no hidden newspaper stand, but still they peek in and look around towards the rear of the store for the secret stash of the aforementioned. WE SELL BOOKS, BOOKS AND BOOKS!!!
Now before you say I am being hard on the general public and should allow for the common question and be more courteous, let me remind the reader, the bookstore is next door to the newsstand which sells nearly everything you need in an airport, including some books. So to that I'd like to offer my other response which comes off as me being a smart ass, we don't sell that but the 'NEWSSTAND NEXT DOOR DOES' Now my managers and supervisors would rather you answer every stupid question with a certain level of joy and employ the stupid notion of being 'a travelers best friend, wtf is that? I am a traveler and do not assume the working class people in the airport are my best friends so let's be realistic. I also do not think answering the same question hundreds of time a day should be bothersome if there were no signs posted, but there are signs everywhere, it's ths airport people, wake up, look up, think before you ask and read the signs...
I could go on but I think you get the point.
My next issue is that because I am still at this job for only God knows why because I am actively pursing a better gig in line with my education, I am quite ashamed of the position, the pay rate and the management team responsible for making decisons on the associates behalf. I am ashamed that I have a writing degree from the country's largest Liberal Arts Collge and am working here, struggling to care for my family, pay all my bills and maintain a level of mental staiblity that keeps me from fighting with these so called 'best friends' of mine, it is heavy on me and damnnit I'm mad. But being mad does not change anything, so here is where I write.
I work for and with people of ignorance and the type of ignorance that does not want change. I work with people that have held ths job without a union, without a voice for years and have not created the change they would like to see, instead they talk amongst themsleves afraid to trump the General Manager. He is but a figure a poor one at that, but still a figure that we all know does not stand with his staff and will throw them under the bus to save his own ass. He is incompetent and lacks the confidence to speak up instead he hides behind his title and send the ladies to do the dirty work. Again someone would argue that I don't understand and try walking a day in his shoes and to you I say, he has a choice like we all do and the choices that affect us should be weighed more carefully.
Lastly I will state that if we want change we have to create change and this is my effort to add to the solution not the problem. I do not enjoy at all the place where I work I do not at all enjoy the time spent in time with the people I work with, save for a few . But more than that I am ashamed to be here for I feel like my life has value and meaning I'm a human being dammnit. (not my own words) I matter and yes I am better than this. I am so much better....so why am I still here suffering with depression and rage, shame and pain?
In 2010 I was unemployed because I resigned from my call center position. Not the greatest job, but I had to leave. I have some things that I stand for and equality is high on the list. So after weeks of searching, I joined a employment service that landed me the interview for the current job I have. Before accepting the interview the employment specialist asked me If I really wanted the job because I could do so much better and she could definitely find me something better, but I resigned because I needed to work. So work started, transition started and I eventually remained in the bookstore. This is where the drama begins.
I work in one of Chicago's airport (the smaller one) which means I have face to face contact with the traveling public. While this is not the problem instead the behavior of the traveling public is what I struggle to understand. Initially I have questions of the questions asked of me daily.
We open @ 5 am not 4 51, not 4 55, but 5 am. So wait. If the li'ghts are off and the gate is lowered that is usually a sign that we are not open for business, so don't ask what time we open....read the signs posted in clear view.
"Where's your nearest restroom?" This one is the best. My first response is this (thought I don't say it) It's probably close to the sign that says RESTROOM. Or, my closest rest room is in my bedroom since I don't own the airport restrooms. But I digress and respond they're on either side of the concourse... READ THE SIGNS.
This next one gets me the most. From a first look into the bookstore there are books galore, and because of the space there are just books no hidden magazine racks, no hidden water cooler, no hidden newspaper stand, but still they peek in and look around towards the rear of the store for the secret stash of the aforementioned. WE SELL BOOKS, BOOKS AND BOOKS!!!
Now before you say I am being hard on the general public and should allow for the common question and be more courteous, let me remind the reader, the bookstore is next door to the newsstand which sells nearly everything you need in an airport, including some books. So to that I'd like to offer my other response which comes off as me being a smart ass, we don't sell that but the 'NEWSSTAND NEXT DOOR DOES' Now my managers and supervisors would rather you answer every stupid question with a certain level of joy and employ the stupid notion of being 'a travelers best friend, wtf is that? I am a traveler and do not assume the working class people in the airport are my best friends so let's be realistic. I also do not think answering the same question hundreds of time a day should be bothersome if there were no signs posted, but there are signs everywhere, it's ths airport people, wake up, look up, think before you ask and read the signs...
I could go on but I think you get the point.
My next issue is that because I am still at this job for only God knows why because I am actively pursing a better gig in line with my education, I am quite ashamed of the position, the pay rate and the management team responsible for making decisons on the associates behalf. I am ashamed that I have a writing degree from the country's largest Liberal Arts Collge and am working here, struggling to care for my family, pay all my bills and maintain a level of mental staiblity that keeps me from fighting with these so called 'best friends' of mine, it is heavy on me and damnnit I'm mad. But being mad does not change anything, so here is where I write.
I work for and with people of ignorance and the type of ignorance that does not want change. I work with people that have held ths job without a union, without a voice for years and have not created the change they would like to see, instead they talk amongst themsleves afraid to trump the General Manager. He is but a figure a poor one at that, but still a figure that we all know does not stand with his staff and will throw them under the bus to save his own ass. He is incompetent and lacks the confidence to speak up instead he hides behind his title and send the ladies to do the dirty work. Again someone would argue that I don't understand and try walking a day in his shoes and to you I say, he has a choice like we all do and the choices that affect us should be weighed more carefully.
Lastly I will state that if we want change we have to create change and this is my effort to add to the solution not the problem. I do not enjoy at all the place where I work I do not at all enjoy the time spent in time with the people I work with, save for a few . But more than that I am ashamed to be here for I feel like my life has value and meaning I'm a human being dammnit. (not my own words) I matter and yes I am better than this. I am so much better....so why am I still here suffering with depression and rage, shame and pain?
Monday, February 13, 2012
nfl
Days pass like years, hours like weeks, minutes like centuries that I was not a part of. Moments drip like coffee waiting for love. Breaths are quick and tattered waiting for love. Wanting so desperately to be in sync forever waiting for love. Safety security withholding my love from me, taking each gap further than before. Come closer
Sunday, February 5, 2012
truth
Have you loved for so long that it is embedded in your identity? Before I knew the cliche what love is (though lately I've questioned the notion), before life spread me across the carpet of heartbreak hotel. Before I could express what I felt, before I could say its name. Before puberty, periods, post partum, attitudes, anger, abuse, hope, desperation, jealousy, struggle, depression and disappointment. Before pregnancy and PTA meetings, before denial and divorce, before vows and virginity, before love songs and lactate, before judge and jury, before the power of pain, there was him. The love that withstands time. The love that stretches and runs deep, the love that is tribal and sacred, the love that was real before I could say it. Before I would ever know that love is conditional, it was him. Before the last train to Brooklyn left it was him. More than two decades ago I met what would become my NFL, the one whose presence has always seemed fleeting. The one who trumps all others the one who because of his absence gave room for others to hurt me and leave scars skin deep. Before all of those experiences taught me a thing or two about myself and men, it was him. Before during and after it will always be him. A word a song a book a definition a poem cannot define what this means to me. Nothing compares nothing in this side of the world, in this here temple can ever come in the same space as this. Until I am able to fully embrace the divinity of it all, I am forever waiting. I am always hoping but never finding the right time when lives collide and burst forth beauty. Foolishly I believe in the highest greatest love of all..him. Foolishly I dance the night crawl in search of what I can only find in him. Foolishly I wait for once to happen forever... I adore you
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Sometimes
Recently I have been listening to "Sometimes" by Bilal. In case you're unfamiliar, he uses the word "sometimes" as a catch phrase to state some concerns in a beautiful melody. I heard this song and have listened to it every day for the last two weeks. I have a moment to pay homage to this tune as I "sometimes" have questions on my own of myself and of others....
SOMETIMES...I wish I wasn't so naive, I knew how to let go, I still had the life of Sierra. I wish I could love truly and deeply. I wish he loved me enough to stay forever. I wish I didn't cut my hair. I wish I had perfect health. I were more social. I don't have to always wait for everything while others stride through life. I want to hear "Yes, Negetarian, we would love to have you." I heard "Congratulations, welcome home to the apple, we're so glad you're here, sit down stay a while." The money I've given out really does come back 100 fold. I were debt-free. My two children live to see forever. I live a good life that doesn't have duality. That Big son can smile in confidence. I want to be able to afford to splurge every now and then on my family. Visit every continent. I were better to Him sometimes. Sometimes I wish I knew the truth about my family and came clean about my own suffering. I could have a drink to take the pain away. I had no stretch marks. I had very nice teeth and hazel eyes....sometimes. Wrote a book and it became a nytimes bestseller, wouldn't that be nice. Sometimes that I waited to give my treasure away before marriage. Bore no shame of my identity. I could sew, sing and play guitar...lol.
Sometimes that I didn't have to itemize my life
SOMETIMES...I wish I wasn't so naive, I knew how to let go, I still had the life of Sierra. I wish I could love truly and deeply. I wish he loved me enough to stay forever. I wish I didn't cut my hair. I wish I had perfect health. I were more social. I don't have to always wait for everything while others stride through life. I want to hear "Yes, Negetarian, we would love to have you." I heard "Congratulations, welcome home to the apple, we're so glad you're here, sit down stay a while." The money I've given out really does come back 100 fold. I were debt-free. My two children live to see forever. I live a good life that doesn't have duality. That Big son can smile in confidence. I want to be able to afford to splurge every now and then on my family. Visit every continent. I were better to Him sometimes. Sometimes I wish I knew the truth about my family and came clean about my own suffering. I could have a drink to take the pain away. I had no stretch marks. I had very nice teeth and hazel eyes....sometimes. Wrote a book and it became a nytimes bestseller, wouldn't that be nice. Sometimes that I waited to give my treasure away before marriage. Bore no shame of my identity. I could sew, sing and play guitar...lol.
Sometimes that I didn't have to itemize my life
Thursday, April 14, 2011
hdn @ mdw
Weekly I expose my imprint into your digital eyes and ears leading to your digital hands across my uniformed body. Unable to see or hear you but you are everywhere. Your digital voice so courteous and monotonous tells me where my dog can poop and I can have a smoke. I see you filled with languages, ages, races, genders, staff and other things I cannot describe haunt my energy like bats into a cave. Deep within your walls filled with merchandise and pale faces I remove my intelligence and take off my thinking hat. Your blue green eyes look at my label and throw your book with ease. Your suitcases roll across my blue dipped toes gently urging the shackles of old. I look at you with a stare that slices your thin lifeless neck. I attack your impression with my literature knowledge. You see what your folks have told you I am, but do not attempt to question the truth that I AM. I inhale your filtered air with ease as the invisible smoke fill my lungs with asthmatic relief. You are a joke that is awaiting laughter. You represent all that I do not stand for, so with the rain you fall for everything. Every lie, every excuse, every "I forgot," everything.....you are nothing. You provide a written escape until you enter my space. I dread you every single day, hoping for the day you and I go away and I enter the world full of air and love for the 'daughter of the sunlight.' Soon, very soon, I will kiss your filtered air and your XXL blue stigma goodbye forever. No more will I lower myself to this again. I did not go to College for this crap. I did not invest in myself to work amongst dumb dumbs. This is not where it starts or begins, this is not my end. WATCH and SEE
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Now
Ok, so here's where I am today. After the whirlwind my little heart endured on Friday, the days following I detoxed and re introduced my appetite as strict vegetarian. For the last 4 almost 5 years I have been a vegetarian and have struggled to maintain a stable weight, well with this new level of basically eliminating all animal foods I feel this will be even better. So I have kept my personal promise to myself and am now vegan. Now this is no easy task and is not cheap which I discovered today at the supermarket, but the energy and holistic approach to life I have taken, this is a natural progression.
Now, about my heart, yesterday was different yet somewhat familiar. There is a thick rope that ties me to the forbidden fruit. Today not a single word has been spoken to reassure me that the dream is reality. I believe it has all been just a silly if not clever, dream that I have unwillingly been awake the whole time. So as I attempt to alter my diet slightly I also am hoping to shed the weight of familiarity and the desires that will NEVER be reality. I thought I was pass this, but as it seems, I am...well I am unsure of where I am. I do however know that as always, all good things must come to an end, when is the end? When will all the magic that supposed to happen, become real for me? When will I finally give all my love to one without fear? Soon, very soon, the truth of love will once and for all take me in as its own and make all my dreams come true.
Now, about my heart, yesterday was different yet somewhat familiar. There is a thick rope that ties me to the forbidden fruit. Today not a single word has been spoken to reassure me that the dream is reality. I believe it has all been just a silly if not clever, dream that I have unwillingly been awake the whole time. So as I attempt to alter my diet slightly I also am hoping to shed the weight of familiarity and the desires that will NEVER be reality. I thought I was pass this, but as it seems, I am...well I am unsure of where I am. I do however know that as always, all good things must come to an end, when is the end? When will all the magic that supposed to happen, become real for me? When will I finally give all my love to one without fear? Soon, very soon, the truth of love will once and for all take me in as its own and make all my dreams come true.
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