I really love working with clay in ceramics.
I love cutting it off the block. I hate that clay that other people have touched. That claw is always dry and broken and crumbly and completely unco-operative. I refuse to use it. I make the instructor go and get me a fresh bag.
I stretch my wire taut, pull it towards me, catch the clay in my hands. I immediately start kneading it in my hands as I carry it towards the table. I'm already shaping the clay. As I warm it while I'm kneading it to get rid of air bubbles, those imperfections that I can never rid myself of in the real world.
I'm already asking the clay. I'm already asking it if it will do the things I need it to do. I'm already shaping it.
My fingers dig into the clay, pulling and pushing and tearing.
The clay will do what I ask it to. I just have to be patient. I just have to be willing to find the things that the clay will be and won't be. It's sometimes harder than it seems.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 21, 2011
And Never Let Me Go
I feel like I'm suffocating.
There's no reason to feel that way. I know this. I just do. I don't pretend that it makes sense. It's why I don't talk about it. It's irrational. If I can't justify the way I feel, I have no business feeling that way.
But I'm smothering.
I know what I need. It's silly and I can't really bring myself to ask anyone to do it for me.
Frankly, I need to lay on the floor and cry. I've cried alone, I've cried hidden in the bathroom. I've cried in the shower. But I haven't yet laid myself down and cried. I can't take one single step more, and I want to cry about it. It's stupid, it will not solve a fucking thing.
And yet, that's what I want.
And I don't want to do it alone.
I would ask my Bubby, but whenever he sees me crying, he can't take it. Bubby should have been my brother. He just cannot stand to see me crying. So even though I know I would be okay if I could just cry in front of him, I won't ask him to do that for me.
My Charliam is in Ohio, and therefore too far away.
Because what I want, basically, is someone to lay on the floor with me. Lay on the floor with me and stay quiet. I don't want to hear that I'm going to be okay. What if I'm not going to be okay? I don't want promises made that aren't going to be kept.
I don't want someone to beg me to hush, or be still. If I am quiet, or still too much longer, I will break. This will kill me. I just want to lay on the floor and be broken. I want someone there with me, to witness me being broken, to see. Because then it will be real.
It's ridiculous though. I know that.
There's no reason to feel that way. I know this. I just do. I don't pretend that it makes sense. It's why I don't talk about it. It's irrational. If I can't justify the way I feel, I have no business feeling that way.
But I'm smothering.
I know what I need. It's silly and I can't really bring myself to ask anyone to do it for me.
Frankly, I need to lay on the floor and cry. I've cried alone, I've cried hidden in the bathroom. I've cried in the shower. But I haven't yet laid myself down and cried. I can't take one single step more, and I want to cry about it. It's stupid, it will not solve a fucking thing.
And yet, that's what I want.
And I don't want to do it alone.
I would ask my Bubby, but whenever he sees me crying, he can't take it. Bubby should have been my brother. He just cannot stand to see me crying. So even though I know I would be okay if I could just cry in front of him, I won't ask him to do that for me.
My Charliam is in Ohio, and therefore too far away.
Because what I want, basically, is someone to lay on the floor with me. Lay on the floor with me and stay quiet. I don't want to hear that I'm going to be okay. What if I'm not going to be okay? I don't want promises made that aren't going to be kept.
I don't want someone to beg me to hush, or be still. If I am quiet, or still too much longer, I will break. This will kill me. I just want to lay on the floor and be broken. I want someone there with me, to witness me being broken, to see. Because then it will be real.
It's ridiculous though. I know that.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
I Can Feel The Butterflies
I talk about butterflies a lot.
I'm getting pretty sick of them, though.
It's almost the end of February. I haven't seen one in months. But I've felt them. I've felt them under my skin, crawling down my spine, taking up residence in my stomach. I can feel them in the night, inside my scalp, creeping along the inside of my brain.
I can't sleep.
There's the bringer of butterflies, who used to be my confidence giver. The irreverent Mistah Jay.
Whenever he walks by me, they start up. I shake all over because of these butterflies. I imagine that they're green and silver. His favorite colors. Once in awhile, there's a red one, a black one. My own favorite colors.
I'm so tired of these butterflies.
There are days when I look at him with contempt and disdain. Days when maybe I feel like if I could chase him away, if I can convince myself that I don't love him. Maybe I can convince myself that this doesn't hurt half as much as it does.
But you know...
Anymore, I wouldn't know how to live without the butterflies.
I wouldn't know how to live without him.
I'm getting pretty sick of them, though.
It's almost the end of February. I haven't seen one in months. But I've felt them. I've felt them under my skin, crawling down my spine, taking up residence in my stomach. I can feel them in the night, inside my scalp, creeping along the inside of my brain.
I can't sleep.
There's the bringer of butterflies, who used to be my confidence giver. The irreverent Mistah Jay.
Whenever he walks by me, they start up. I shake all over because of these butterflies. I imagine that they're green and silver. His favorite colors. Once in awhile, there's a red one, a black one. My own favorite colors.
I'm so tired of these butterflies.
There are days when I look at him with contempt and disdain. Days when maybe I feel like if I could chase him away, if I can convince myself that I don't love him. Maybe I can convince myself that this doesn't hurt half as much as it does.
But you know...
Anymore, I wouldn't know how to live without the butterflies.
I wouldn't know how to live without him.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Can't Sleep, Clowns Will Eat Me
It's no secret that I sleep on the love seat downstairs, in the living room with my mother. My older brother has two bedrooms upstairs that he uses (the wall was knocked down between them).
She Who Must Be Kept has a friend called Croc. Croc got evicted from his home, due to a long and complicated series of events. Since then, he's been living on couches and in borrowed beds. It's all a sad story, and I do admire that he's making the best of it and he's not asking for handouts.
SWMBK wanted him to come and live here. I nixed that idea because, the fuck? I don't even have a room here. She wanted him to sleep in the room that I've been told I can't sleep in.
Anyway, I came home last night very late after hanging out with my friend Dante. Dante and I were furniture shopping because I'm potentially living with he and his girlfriend Rosie next year. Anyway, I get back at twelve thirty or one in the morning, and Croc was STILL here and SWMBK was still awake.
...Okay.
SWMBK proceeded to go to sleep. Croc sat on her couch WHERE SHE WAS SLEEPING eating potato chips and watching She Ra. I kept waiting and waiting for him to leave. But no. He just stayed, feeding the cats dill dip to the cats to see them make funny faces.
Finally, at four in the morning I went; "Are you staying here tonight?"
"Huh? Yeah, I guess I'd better. Too late to leave now."
WELL WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?!?!
And the guy doesn't sit STILL. He fidgeted all night long. It was four thirty before I could go to sleep. And it was creepy to try and sleep in the room with an awake person just chillaxing there.
I approached SWMBK and asked that Croc not stay with us anymore.
"Why?"
"Because I can't sleep."
"Well, what does him being here have to do with you being able to sleep? I don't understand."
"He's down there awake! I'm trying to sleep!"
"I just don't see why it's a big deal."
Epic.
She Who Must Be Kept has a friend called Croc. Croc got evicted from his home, due to a long and complicated series of events. Since then, he's been living on couches and in borrowed beds. It's all a sad story, and I do admire that he's making the best of it and he's not asking for handouts.
SWMBK wanted him to come and live here. I nixed that idea because, the fuck? I don't even have a room here. She wanted him to sleep in the room that I've been told I can't sleep in.
Anyway, I came home last night very late after hanging out with my friend Dante. Dante and I were furniture shopping because I'm potentially living with he and his girlfriend Rosie next year. Anyway, I get back at twelve thirty or one in the morning, and Croc was STILL here and SWMBK was still awake.
...Okay.
SWMBK proceeded to go to sleep. Croc sat on her couch WHERE SHE WAS SLEEPING eating potato chips and watching She Ra. I kept waiting and waiting for him to leave. But no. He just stayed, feeding the cats dill dip to the cats to see them make funny faces.
Finally, at four in the morning I went; "Are you staying here tonight?"
"Huh? Yeah, I guess I'd better. Too late to leave now."
WELL WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?!?!
And the guy doesn't sit STILL. He fidgeted all night long. It was four thirty before I could go to sleep. And it was creepy to try and sleep in the room with an awake person just chillaxing there.
I approached SWMBK and asked that Croc not stay with us anymore.
"Why?"
"Because I can't sleep."
"Well, what does him being here have to do with you being able to sleep? I don't understand."
"He's down there awake! I'm trying to sleep!"
"I just don't see why it's a big deal."
Epic.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Happy... Taima Day?
Perhaps I've gotten way more pathetic than previously thought. On Valentine's Day, even though I'm working on a present for Mistah Jay, I didn't think that anyone was going to get me anything.
I was clearly mistaken.
From my "school daughter"; two feather roses, an LED light up rose, a chocolate rose, a red stuffed puppy.
My BFF; a silver butterfly necklace with blue stones, lovely! And perfect for wearing every day.
My future roommate; a stuffed hippo.
My fake boyfriend; a bunch of carnations in a red vase with a white bear and red heart attached.
Why did I get all these things? Because everyone thought no one else was getting me something, and that I'd be sad. I've never really mentioned Valentine's Day, only bumming slightly that Mistah Jay wouldn't acknowledge me (and he didn't). Still working on his present.
Today, I reconnected with a friend. He had previously been a dick to me, and he did admit that today, and apologized. He said he had no idea why he said the things he said, and he was wrong. He hadn't anticipated me being mad for almost a year about it.
Anyway.
The most wonderful part? We both dressed up fancy (and I'm one of three people he does that for) and sat in the ice cream parlor, eating onion rings for three hours and discussing out lives. We talked about Mistah Jay, his last relationship, our friends, our lives.
It was great.
I was clearly mistaken.
From my "school daughter"; two feather roses, an LED light up rose, a chocolate rose, a red stuffed puppy.
My BFF; a silver butterfly necklace with blue stones, lovely! And perfect for wearing every day.
My future roommate; a stuffed hippo.
My fake boyfriend; a bunch of carnations in a red vase with a white bear and red heart attached.
Why did I get all these things? Because everyone thought no one else was getting me something, and that I'd be sad. I've never really mentioned Valentine's Day, only bumming slightly that Mistah Jay wouldn't acknowledge me (and he didn't). Still working on his present.
Today, I reconnected with a friend. He had previously been a dick to me, and he did admit that today, and apologized. He said he had no idea why he said the things he said, and he was wrong. He hadn't anticipated me being mad for almost a year about it.
Anyway.
The most wonderful part? We both dressed up fancy (and I'm one of three people he does that for) and sat in the ice cream parlor, eating onion rings for three hours and discussing out lives. We talked about Mistah Jay, his last relationship, our friends, our lives.
It was great.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
We Don't Really Sit On the Baby
I used to baby sit quite a bit. She Who Must Be Kept's former best friend had a child that was a good ten years younger than me. I also knew a few people here and there with little kids, and some of my younger cousins.
I ran into a LOT of problems while I was baby sitting. In one instance, I was supposed to have a baby less than a month old for one night. I had him for three days. In one instance, I was supposed to watch one child for a few hours. I had two kids over night.
I decided I needed to write a guide for parents AND sitters on how to make this go as smoothly as possible. (And yes, all of this has been an issue for me at some point in time.)
1. If your kid can't be left home; don't do it. If you have a child who is going to scream for three hours because you left them home, you really shouldn't leave them with a baby sitter. What do you think we're going to do about it? It's really stressful for us, and you are not paying us enough to get our eardrums burst. I make this first and foremost because I think parents forget that.
That isn't to say we don't expect and anticipate a little anxiety from the kid. A good baby sitter is prepared for that. A good prep is; "It's sad when Mommy leaves. But, WE get to play together this afternoon! I'm so excited. Want to help me color a picture for Mommy? She'll be so happy when she comes home!"
2. Leave clear rules for the baby sitter. I don't mean something like; don't play with matches. If you, for instance, don't want your child to watch the television while you're gone, say that very clearly. In front of the kid, if at all possible. It's really frustrating for a sitter when the kid is telling us one thing and throwing a tantrum and we don't want to call to interrupt your girls' night out to ask if they can go play at Billy's or whatever.
Some rules to leave; television/computer/video game rules and regulations
BEDTIMES (and make sure this is nonnegotiable)
If/when friends may come over, if/when they may go to a friends
Snack rules
3. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter? NOT YOUR MAID. That being said, no baby sitter is going to balk about picking up the toys they got out (or helping the kid do such), putting the supper dishes in the dishwasher, or putting the towels from bathtime in the laundry.
Also, if there's some big Goldfish Holocaust and all the crumbs are in the rug, we will want to know where the vacuum is to pick that up. It did happen on our watch, after all.
But we're not going to run a load of whites, wash the windows, scrub the pots and pans, do your dusting... That's just not going to happen, okay?
4. Be home when you say you're going to be home. Or if you're going to be late, give me a call. If I didn't drive myself over there, then I need to let my ride know, and that's really why I hate if you're late. If your kid is asleep and I'm sitting around making money watching reruns of Viva la Bam, then I don't care if you're not coming right home. I *care* because my ride is waiting to come get me. Of course, if you then decide to take my home, whatever.
5. If your kid is a notorious brat, and yes there are a couple, then could you let me know that? I don't expect you to come right out and say; "He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." But I WOULD like to know; "We're having some trouble with tantrums right now. I'm so sorry about it. This is how we're dealing with it...." and leave me a detailed step by step plan. Do you use time outs? Where do you do that? Do you take away toys? What? Don't leave me just staring at your kid have a nuclear meltdown on the kitchen floor because I won't give him a cookie!
6. If you can't get your kid to bed, what makes you think I can? I'm the baby sitter, not Super Nanny! I'll do the best I can, but listen, don't be surprised if you come home and he's still awake sobbing and not in bed and I'm sitting around tearing out my hair because I don't know what to do.
7. I really need you to be ready to pay me at the end of the agreed upon session. I make my prices clear right out (two dollars per hour per kid, and this is dirt cheap. I've heard up to five dollars an hour). So it's not going to be some big shock to you that it costs what it does.
I don't take credit, either. I don't have a credit card scanner in my purse, all right? If you don't carry cash, stop at the machine beforehand. If you're a little bit short once in awhile, that's cool, I don't mind, really. But if you show up every night like; "Can I pay you next time?" No. There won't be a next time.
I ran into a LOT of problems while I was baby sitting. In one instance, I was supposed to have a baby less than a month old for one night. I had him for three days. In one instance, I was supposed to watch one child for a few hours. I had two kids over night.
I decided I needed to write a guide for parents AND sitters on how to make this go as smoothly as possible. (And yes, all of this has been an issue for me at some point in time.)
1. If your kid can't be left home; don't do it. If you have a child who is going to scream for three hours because you left them home, you really shouldn't leave them with a baby sitter. What do you think we're going to do about it? It's really stressful for us, and you are not paying us enough to get our eardrums burst. I make this first and foremost because I think parents forget that.
That isn't to say we don't expect and anticipate a little anxiety from the kid. A good baby sitter is prepared for that. A good prep is; "It's sad when Mommy leaves. But, WE get to play together this afternoon! I'm so excited. Want to help me color a picture for Mommy? She'll be so happy when she comes home!"
2. Leave clear rules for the baby sitter. I don't mean something like; don't play with matches. If you, for instance, don't want your child to watch the television while you're gone, say that very clearly. In front of the kid, if at all possible. It's really frustrating for a sitter when the kid is telling us one thing and throwing a tantrum and we don't want to call to interrupt your girls' night out to ask if they can go play at Billy's or whatever.
Some rules to leave; television/computer/video game rules and regulations
BEDTIMES (and make sure this is nonnegotiable)
If/when friends may come over, if/when they may go to a friends
Snack rules
3. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter is not your maid. Your baby sitter? NOT YOUR MAID. That being said, no baby sitter is going to balk about picking up the toys they got out (or helping the kid do such), putting the supper dishes in the dishwasher, or putting the towels from bathtime in the laundry.
Also, if there's some big Goldfish Holocaust and all the crumbs are in the rug, we will want to know where the vacuum is to pick that up. It did happen on our watch, after all.
But we're not going to run a load of whites, wash the windows, scrub the pots and pans, do your dusting... That's just not going to happen, okay?
4. Be home when you say you're going to be home. Or if you're going to be late, give me a call. If I didn't drive myself over there, then I need to let my ride know, and that's really why I hate if you're late. If your kid is asleep and I'm sitting around making money watching reruns of Viva la Bam, then I don't care if you're not coming right home. I *care* because my ride is waiting to come get me. Of course, if you then decide to take my home, whatever.
5. If your kid is a notorious brat, and yes there are a couple, then could you let me know that? I don't expect you to come right out and say; "He can be a real pain in the ass sometimes." But I WOULD like to know; "We're having some trouble with tantrums right now. I'm so sorry about it. This is how we're dealing with it...." and leave me a detailed step by step plan. Do you use time outs? Where do you do that? Do you take away toys? What? Don't leave me just staring at your kid have a nuclear meltdown on the kitchen floor because I won't give him a cookie!
6. If you can't get your kid to bed, what makes you think I can? I'm the baby sitter, not Super Nanny! I'll do the best I can, but listen, don't be surprised if you come home and he's still awake sobbing and not in bed and I'm sitting around tearing out my hair because I don't know what to do.
7. I really need you to be ready to pay me at the end of the agreed upon session. I make my prices clear right out (two dollars per hour per kid, and this is dirt cheap. I've heard up to five dollars an hour). So it's not going to be some big shock to you that it costs what it does.
I don't take credit, either. I don't have a credit card scanner in my purse, all right? If you don't carry cash, stop at the machine beforehand. If you're a little bit short once in awhile, that's cool, I don't mind, really. But if you show up every night like; "Can I pay you next time?" No. There won't be a next time.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
How Dare You Break My Lonely Heart
Today was a rough day with Mistah Jay.
I went to go hug him hello, as I normally do. He very violently slipped from my arms (he was sitting down in a chair) and turned to glare at me, tensing up his whole body. I almost fell down. I looked at him and just went; "Okay. That's fine." He remained in his dramatic frozen pose for several seconds.
Whatever. I don't have time for that kind of horseplay today. I sat down and got to my homework that was due before seven so I could participate in a live chat with my partner for English. It took me the better part of the morning, because I had to annotate.
Mistah Jay stared at me as I hugged my friend, went to the bathroom, got lunch, ate my lunch, got another friend's portable hard drive so I could have some new movies, and packed up for class. I didn't speak to him, even when he spoke to me.
I do realize this was petty as hell. I do understand this makes me a bitch. I don't disagree. I wanted him to be upset, because I was upset. I wanted him to understand that he doesn't get to be a jerk to me and then decide he's done with that, and I should just be okay.
So before I left, everyone was teasing me, as we do in our group. Mistah Jay wanted to participate.
"Hey, Tai!"
*ignore*
"Taaaai."
*ignore*
"TAAAAAAI. TAI! Taaaaaaima."
*ignore*
"I'll break your legs so you can't go to class!"
...Really? Okay. Whatever. At least I won't have to see him until Tuesday. I came back from class a little early, and realized that my lappity toppity box wasn't recognizing that USB cables were plugged in. I was messing with it when Mistah Jay came in.
"Oh! What's wrong?"
"A thing broke."
"What thing?"
"A port."
"I can fix it, let me see, hon." he was standing so close to me, so I could smell him. His cheek was right next to mine. I was so tempted to lean into him.
"No, thanks! I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
"FINE! I JUST THOUGHT I'D ASK!" he stomped back over to his half of the table.
I was rude. I own that. I was rude because what am I supposed to do? Just be perfectly fine when he decides it's time to be fine? I think he probably realized I was upset with him and felt bad. But he didn't apologize.
I finally went into the bathroom to cry while a couple friends tried to fix it. I'd had enough of this week.
I came back and turned the laptop off and on, and everything was fine. But one kid who doesn't come around a lot and is a dick went; "I stuck my dick in them!"
"Well, they're USB ports, and not micro USB ports..."
"Oh, I see what you did there." everyone laughed. Joke over, right? Nope. "Just so you know, you come off as a bitch."
"I know."
"You come off REALLY mean."
"I KNOW."
"Everyone thinks that about you."
"I DIDN'T ASK FOR YOU GODDAMN OPINION."
"Well we have free speech so I can say whatever I want."
Really dude? Mistah Jay looked at him and just shook his head, and the kid stopped talking. I left without saying goodbye. He looked heartbroken when I left.
I'm irritated. Why is it okay for him to just DECIDE when we can be close. If he didn't want to be touched, he didn't have to be an ass. And he wasn't just having a bad day, you know? It was more that he JUST treats me like that and he JUST does things that upset me.
One of my friends, Nandi, thinks that I should just "forget about him" and move on. It isn't that easy. If that was easy, I would have done it. I wouldn't be this hurt by the things that he does to me.
In BETTER news, yesterday I was out with my friend Something Mysterious and... I totally pierced my belly button. It hurts but makes me feel AWESOME.
I went to go hug him hello, as I normally do. He very violently slipped from my arms (he was sitting down in a chair) and turned to glare at me, tensing up his whole body. I almost fell down. I looked at him and just went; "Okay. That's fine." He remained in his dramatic frozen pose for several seconds.
Whatever. I don't have time for that kind of horseplay today. I sat down and got to my homework that was due before seven so I could participate in a live chat with my partner for English. It took me the better part of the morning, because I had to annotate.
Mistah Jay stared at me as I hugged my friend, went to the bathroom, got lunch, ate my lunch, got another friend's portable hard drive so I could have some new movies, and packed up for class. I didn't speak to him, even when he spoke to me.
I do realize this was petty as hell. I do understand this makes me a bitch. I don't disagree. I wanted him to be upset, because I was upset. I wanted him to understand that he doesn't get to be a jerk to me and then decide he's done with that, and I should just be okay.
So before I left, everyone was teasing me, as we do in our group. Mistah Jay wanted to participate.
"Hey, Tai!"
*ignore*
"Taaaai."
*ignore*
"TAAAAAAI. TAI! Taaaaaaima."
*ignore*
"I'll break your legs so you can't go to class!"
...Really? Okay. Whatever. At least I won't have to see him until Tuesday. I came back from class a little early, and realized that my lappity toppity box wasn't recognizing that USB cables were plugged in. I was messing with it when Mistah Jay came in.
"Oh! What's wrong?"
"A thing broke."
"What thing?"
"A port."
"I can fix it, let me see, hon." he was standing so close to me, so I could smell him. His cheek was right next to mine. I was so tempted to lean into him.
"No, thanks! I'm fine. Don't worry about it."
"FINE! I JUST THOUGHT I'D ASK!" he stomped back over to his half of the table.
I was rude. I own that. I was rude because what am I supposed to do? Just be perfectly fine when he decides it's time to be fine? I think he probably realized I was upset with him and felt bad. But he didn't apologize.
I finally went into the bathroom to cry while a couple friends tried to fix it. I'd had enough of this week.
I came back and turned the laptop off and on, and everything was fine. But one kid who doesn't come around a lot and is a dick went; "I stuck my dick in them!"
"Well, they're USB ports, and not micro USB ports..."
"Oh, I see what you did there." everyone laughed. Joke over, right? Nope. "Just so you know, you come off as a bitch."
"I know."
"You come off REALLY mean."
"I KNOW."
"Everyone thinks that about you."
"I DIDN'T ASK FOR YOU GODDAMN OPINION."
"Well we have free speech so I can say whatever I want."
Really dude? Mistah Jay looked at him and just shook his head, and the kid stopped talking. I left without saying goodbye. He looked heartbroken when I left.
I'm irritated. Why is it okay for him to just DECIDE when we can be close. If he didn't want to be touched, he didn't have to be an ass. And he wasn't just having a bad day, you know? It was more that he JUST treats me like that and he JUST does things that upset me.
One of my friends, Nandi, thinks that I should just "forget about him" and move on. It isn't that easy. If that was easy, I would have done it. I wouldn't be this hurt by the things that he does to me.
In BETTER news, yesterday I was out with my friend Something Mysterious and... I totally pierced my belly button. It hurts but makes me feel AWESOME.
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