New things

She said she has never had a forwarding address done...never seen the yellow sticker they put on there...wow...i have seen it maybe 16 times already?

He said he has never bought a lotto...He said he has never had anyone else deposit money into his account...I have done those things many times...

I wonder if there is something out there that I have never done but someone else has many times...I wonder if there is something out there that I don't even know exists...

Sound exciting actually!

Their Dreams deferred.....

Langston Hughes’ “Harlem: A Dream Deferred”

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry uplike a raisin in the sun Or fester like a sore—
And then run?Does it stink like rotten meat?Or crust and sugar over—
Like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sagslike a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

I think theirs may have just evaporated in the air...

Despite everything that is going on, I am amazingly calm. My heartbeat is not killing me and my stomach acid is at a normal level. My breathing regular...

This is the good thing about getting older...you know things will work themselves out at the end...you have learned that your parents are not perfect, that they have made mistakes in their lives, but that their mistakes and failures will not affect you as an individual...at least you hope...

I am amazingly calm...and I know it's because of the Happy Pill, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting down like this blogging during work-billable hours...

The Happy Pill is the most amazing dedication of science to human kind. Thank you pharmaceutical companies...Good for you for all the money that you make b/c you make me amazingly calm.

Damaad

I wrote this in his card when he turned 21. Then mom read it yavashaki and she cried...one of her "crying sessions"...

I wrote that for the first five years of my life, I was so lonely and begged my parents for a sibling...then one day, they said he is on his way. I waited 9 months so excitedly and so patiently. I remember the night he arrived. My aunt came over to baby sit me since my mom had gone to the hospital...then we went to visit the next morning. We took flowers ( I think?)...I had to wait 2 more days before he came home. He was so tiny and so white...

Soon I realized he wasn't playing with me any time in the near future, all he did was cry for the longest time...in fact, I gave up hope. By the time he wanted to play, I was doing only "girlie things" anyways.

I remember when he had his first tooth, and when he got sick and lost his big fat cheeks...

I remember when he went to first grade and learned how to read...I remember when he first blew a bubble gum and was so excited he showed everyone...

Last Friday, he stood before a crowd of friends and family, so proudly he said his vows and so proudly he began his new life--as a Husband.

Villa Park & Hewes

Every morning, for the past four months, I have had a msg. from him...and every morning, I return his call as soon as I make my left turn onto Hewes, from Villa Park...since that's where the reception kicks in...

every morning, for the past 4 months I have had stability, reliability...something to hold on to...

Things are changing again, as the October wind sets in, and pupmkins come pouring every where...when She leaves for four years and They leave for who knows how long...

The change of wind reminds me of when Merry Puppins left...it was so sad...

Change is a double edge sword, it needs to come at the right time. I am not sure how this one would work out...for me, when October comes and the weather gets colder, bad things happen...

I like the corner of Villa Park & Hewes but it's already a vanishing memory

The first time I did it was in 1995, after I had already been named as a defendant in the lawsuit and even a judgment was ordered against me...at age 18...a default judgment. If fact, that's how it all started, with that one case...me first time in the courtroom, speaking to the judge and defending myself at 18. I think the decision to go to law school actually began to form that day but it was a baby then.

Anyways, that one time, my name as a bank teller working for Fred save them. DH said, wow...bazam layla joonie...

Next time it happened in 2002. This time, I came back from Italy and they had already put my name on, they never even asked me. And then I thought to myself it's gonna be ok this time, right? nothin bad will happen, we are movin on, progressing, life gettin better, right? wrong.

So after it all went to shit, I did it again. Exactly two years ago, Sept of 04, was sitting in my office at HICAP, the one in the back without any windows, when i made a few phone calls and then wrote that one letter to M. And that was that. Boom.

And now, i have to do it again, and again and again...and it will never end. Some may say I am obliged to do it...morally or whatever. It's either u do it or u might live with the guilt for the rest of your life.

I think i just have to accept it. I m sure it's recognized and appreciated...but I don't care b/c I am tired and i feel imprisoned.

I must individuate, Dr. W says.

1, 2, 3

The first time we talked for four hours and had extra wipped (spelling?) cream.

The second time we talked about how writing is theraputic and how I should become a blogger. Then I told him how I packed my stuff and ran away from a place i used to call home.

The third time, we met in AH at a little italian resturant and we were shocked that we had met before. Then we kissed.

That's how it all began...

wearers of black

It's always the same...someone is shocked and is just staring at the wall...someone is crying quietly in a corner, someone is crying hysterically, someone is just talking repeatedly telling the story of how it happened, where it was, how said what and what they doctors said and what if this and what if that (as if it matters), people coming, people going, people pretending they understand the pain, there is always an abundance of food and fruits and dates...oh yeah, and the helper is working crazy trying to make everyone enjoy this sad moment, washing the dishes, tea...for all...and there is those who crack jokes, little funny things they say about the person who is gone. We did that at Babaee's passing, and then we felt guilty that we were laughing...

It never changes, same cloths, same stories...no one gets death. It is by far the most mysterious concept of human life...this is why i have been going to LB for the past God...8 years...wow, she is been gone for that long?

Bathroom conversations

I see her in the hallways and bathrooms sometimes...She is always talking about what she wants to do with her, color, perm, straighten, bangs...she is always playing with her hair...she even bought me a couple of books once and i paid and wrote her a check. I can't seem to remember her name though...i could look at my check book or go to wellsfargo oline and bring up a scanned copy of the check to see to whom i made the check payable to...I could...but i won't. ..it's too much. Maybe one day someone will call her name out in the hallway or in the kitchen and I will overhear and maybe then i will remember.

So we talk about hair, which is my current obssession again since it's leaving me in huge numbers these days. Someone once said I should talk to my hair at nights before going to bed, just like mom needs to talk to her legs and feet. Just like neda talks to her plants. So I tell her i went red once for two years and had to buy the red towel for it. And then i remember that the person whose idea it was to do my hair red, in that September of 2002, and whom has been like my sister for the past 15 years is leaving tomorrow 3000 miles away.

Now, back to the hair thing, yeah...she chats away. I need to pee. These bathroom conversations could be the most someone talks during their day at work, b/c they live alone with two cats. Not me, I have other people to talk to after work, many of them...I just like to extend my conversations in the bathroom so avoid working...the day is gone, and we are so oblivious to the war that's killing so many.