have you ever turned into a person you hate, just so you won't hate them anymore?

my job doesn't give a fuck about my opinions.

that's right. my job doesn't give a fuck about my opinions. not even the little ones. not even the opinions about, say, how the day is. nothing. people ask me how i am as an obligation and don't wait to hear the answer. and i wonder why i think i deserve this. i wonder why i am so fucking surprised. well, isn't that the american dream? that everyone be heard? isn't that what we are brought up with, that everyone counts and everyone is a person? we live in a democracy where everybody has a say, or at least it feels like that and maybe it only feels like that to me because i am a priveleged, white, middle class female, but whatever the case, i can't get fucking beyond this whole idea of not including me and not recognizing me as a worthwhile person. i was brought up in a place where everybody got to talk and share but not at my job. the boss is the only person who gets to talk, everybody else gets to talk thru him or for him and that is it. bullshit.

once you master something it sort of sits in your mind like you have perpetually mastered it but in reality it constantly and repeatedly needs mastering to be mastered. just because you mastered something doesn't mean that you'll be able to master it again tomorrow or really ever again, it will constantly change and you will too and it doesn't mean that you or it will ever match up the same again, the moment has past and that is that. if you want to maintain mastership than you must continue to master, time and time again.

so with that said everyday is new and different and much more complex than you ever think it'll be. you don't know what will happen, you never could. you can try to predict. go ahead. try. i bet you'd've never guessed everything though. not every last detail. no. it just doesn't ever happen like that. it never has and it never will. no matter how masterfully you have mastered a day, the next will slap you in the face from the opposite side then you could have ever imagined.

carl thought he knew it all. and it all became very mundane. it was all the same to this man. day in and out. he lived everyday and same as well. said hi to the same people in the same manner as the day before and smiled the same. carl managed to smile the same, not less so, like some, who, over time would accumulate stuff and over time smiles would fad into jaded, curled lips. no. carl smiled the same and everyone assumed that day in and day out carl was well taken care of. that carl didn't need more love at all, that carl was just fine as is but what everyone else didn't know was that carl did need something. he needed love and friendship. carl was like a plant. he liked when people talked to him and breathed on him and said things. even things like, "gosh, it's a nice day out." to some that statement might seem like filler but for carl he appreciated the simplicity and liked thinking the thought. 'yes,' he thought, 'it is a nice day, isn't it?' and so he went with his routines and such.

aaahhhh! i'm stuck in this deafening madness called white privilege/feminism, HELP!

that's right, how do i get out of this mess? christ. can't i be one who fights against something a bit more noble like being plagued by a child with autism, or having lost it all in a fire? i mean really? i have to worry about what to wear to work. i have to beat myself up over not going that extra step to really, really find the clothes that would work best. ugh. is life always a struggle? christ. if it's not this, then it's something else. someone recently said, (the the mass media), that Americans don't know how to enjoy pleasure. and, fucking a-, i hear that. oh no, can't just be thankful for what i have and rage with it, no, have to make it hard whatever it is and find something wrong, because life isn't supposed to be this easy, right? the minute you give in to it, the shit hits the fan, right? life is supposed to be hard, right? i guess these are the values that i was brought up with, maybe. maybe i'm imagining them too. but GOD ALMIGHTY! i feel like the girl, "who has everything" as Ariel said in Disney's, The Little Mermaid, but like her, I am still unsatisfied. Will I ever be satisfied? Do I really need to get clobbered on the head before I feel satisfied? Really? fuck.

What am I really looking for? I think it may be something like structure. Yeah, all this goddamn freedom has got me in a tizzy. You can do whatever you want Shanna, you name it, it's yours. Okay, what if I don't know what I want. There has been research done that suggests that, as humans, we may think we know what we want, but through trial and error we realize that we just thought we knew what we wanted. UUUUGGGGHHHHH.

Two nights ago I went to Eat, Pray, Love with an old friend. It was just like the book. There are aspects that I can relate with and forgive and other well taken points that are unforgivable. Here is this woman who has it all and essentially throws it away. She doesn't want to be married anymore and leaves her less successful husband to travel the world on a self-finding journey. She gets paid up front for the book that she writes about the experience, which is seriously questionable in my book, and travels for a year to, I guess, find her soul. What she eventually finds is a man who will put her in her place. That's right. That is my conclusion on the whole goddamn thing. I think as women, we still want a man to "put us in our place" I mean, christ, we all want to be pinned down to a point so that we are not floating in the atmosphere, right? Nobody likes that. We want equality in the workplace, no doubt. We want equal rights as far as respect goes in society. But, christ, we also want someone, somewhere, even it they are in Bali, to sit use down and tell us how it is. To, even if we are the most successful in the biz, to say, "hey. stop it. look me in the face. that's right. you are just human too."

I'm reading like 5 different titles right now

And that's a good thing. My mind is active. Here are the different moods:

Hemingway's, The Sun Also Rises

Egger's, What is the What

Stieg Something's, The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo

Also, maybe Sudoku puzzle books to choose from and maybe titles just waiting in the hopper.

Summer is good, good, good so far.

written sometime ago.

All the distractions and entertainment eat every moment learning none to freedom, to wander, to explore and grow moving through time forever stunted and stunned perpetually. Entertainment for the sake of entertainment just to know something is being done, somebody is being entertained. Some corporation is making a little money. Some little baby was just being born. The stocks go up and go down. The kids go to school and go home. Watch TV and play video games never really realizing fully the generation ahead of them but always coming to the same conclusion in the end. Its all progress when measured in some form, when analized by the right jury in the appropriate context working for just the right people. People who are going places, people who get vacation time and have children to round out their lives. People who eventually get caught but never quite catch up to it in the end. Talking and words spout out unconsciously one after another going in circles, in cycles. So many words so little real communication, so little gets done. So scared of success, so scared of failure. So scared nobody moves. Just wait for other movement and then follows. As long as someone is doing something, applause! Cheers! Hurray! Tiny little steps to the knowing. Impossible feats found only in books and TV to the never trying. Running and jumping off cliffs, holding breaths, smiling. content. Knowing.

Swimsuits and bare skin in the sun, reflecting off of water, splashing. Vibrations. Thinking next of a snack and then of a run through the woods, maybe pick a couple of berries, mostly blueberries, some raspberries. A deer. He saw us first, standing very alert, ears at attention, wide brown eyes. Not afraid to make eye contact. he leaves, we walk again, found an old can, really old, a style that we might remember when we were 4 or 5. There are a couple of BB holes in it. Someone must have used it as a target. Lets build a fort! We have an old chair my mom will probably let us use and maybe we could use that old wood sitting by the cabin, it's been there forever. If we take these long sticks and lean them up against each other we can make a teepee. Lets just throw and old sheet on it. Ah! A toad. I almost stepped on it, (glad I didn't). He feels weird. I think he pooped in my hand. . . . . . .. clouds, sun, warm air . . .. . .. . . .. Aaaaaahhhhhh(Looking at clouds)(Laying down)(in grass)(field maybe)(long time) . . . . . . . . .. . (bugs start to bit) . .. . ... . Slap. Slap . . . .Slap. Wanna go? These bugs are bad.

big hair

She came from old money. Money that went back to the slave trade, or maybe before. And she carried it around, in her shoulders, her neck, her upper back, sometimes her joints. But mostly in her hair. She did her hair up and out and around and all over. For the last 26 years it took the form of a beehive, or something close. It was all up, high but there were variations depending on mood. If she was really stressed, had to meet with family or had to make decisions concerning money it was up high. If it was to be a day with the kids it would be sloppy. On that very rare occasion that she felt a little sexy, actually felt like a woman, she would curl her hair, just a bit, smile to herself in the mirror, feel good.

eating meat again.

so i started eating fish again. and i tried duck the other night. this is after about 8 years of not eating anything of the type. no meat or fish or any stocks or bases based on meat or fish. i did eat gelatin, which is made out of horse's hooves, because it is in so many desserts, enough said. but that's that. it all started in high school when i thought i would challenge myself to not eat any hamburgers for a while and it turned out to be really easy, so then i limited myself from more and more and finally gave up tuna fish, my favorite, around age 22 along with all stocks. so that was that. i held my ground for 8 years. yup, not eating any of that. nope. just holding my ground. and so recently that all got a little boring. stagnant. and life in general just got a little boring and lame. other people stopped delivering so i started i guess. and i started with food of course. i first just tried a bite of a co-worker's tuna melt sandwich and the tuna made my teeth squeaky clean feeling and i tasted chewy on my teeth. interesting. fun. so the next day i tried a cream of wild rice with salmon. eh. alright. i don't know if i really cared for the salmon flavor all that much. it was just strong, maybe that's the word i'm looking for, i don't know but i'm still intrigued enough to explore that again. so i couple days later i tried a friend's scallop dish. yummy. fun. i liked the texture and sort of the none flavor of it. and by the way, can we talk about the none flavor for just a second here? because then i tried duck the other night. and it tasted like meat. period. it really didn't do much for me here or there. it seems really devoid of something essential. some, maybe, energy. i don't know. so that was that until tonight. i ordered a fried grouper sandwich and ate the whole thing. after a bit i got a little headache but it passed and when i was vacuuming i was alive, that vacuum didn't own me for once. and after work i had a beer and it tasted really good and now i'm really tired and maybe some of these things can be attributed to the massive fish intake or not. but i am excited to explore again tomorrow.

what just happened?

i just messed up. the day started fine, i thought, woke up early thinking too much but ended up reading about antarctica cozily until the phone rang. i had forgotten that i made an appointment to get my windshield repaired today. the woman said it was fine that i forgot so long as i got up there right quick. with coffee and toast and ipod in hand and a plan to take a cab to the mall to shop for books, i got there right quick.

"i'll just have to make a claim with progressive," she said.

sure, sounds good. then i was on the phone.

what's my address?

when did this happen?

how big is the crack in the windshield?

when did this happen?

i gave all the wrong answers. it all happened so fast and i have never made "a claim" before. so i was denied and probably flagged as a lowly person trying to lamely commit insurance fraud. this isn't me. so the lady at the glass shop, sooo accommodating by the way, gives me all the discounts possible but it is still just too much. i can't justify $200 on a windshield that has been working just fine damaged for years now. i have to pass. i tell my apologies up and down. sideways. and exit. i tell the cab driver that i won't be needing the cab because i will be leaving with my car because i don't have enough money and i say sorry and pause. he is pissed. i apologize and offer a tip as he drives away with the passenger door still open. i am in awe of how quickly everything seems to be taking place. i walk to the far curb wishing i was still in bed. i look down at my peanut butter toast and am not hungry anymore. i crumple it up in the napkin. i glance to my left. there is a woman wearing a pantsuit standing out back her workplace smoking. we exchange unspoken knowingness. my car backs out of the shop finally. the guy had to put the windshield wipers back on and stuff like that. i hold out a $20. "i'm so sorry about that. here. buy lunch for everybody." but no, he wouldn't take it. so i got back in my car and drove around a bit, not knowing really what to do or how to chalk it all up. what the fuck just happened? in the matter of an hour i embarrassed myself in front of many people at the glass place trying to make a claim, thinking i'm sounding legit but in fact probably not at all. i piss off a guy so bad he wants to run me over. and now i am probably flagged for life for this claim that i didn't really care about in the first place. i just figured it would be the "right" thing to do after all this time. yup. gonna go get that windshield fixed. yup yup.

i'm getting back in bed.