I did it!

When we first moved into our apartment, we bought shelves to put up. The task, as usual fell to me, and I have to admit I was terrified to do it. Finally yesterday I plucked up the courage, and I did it! The first shelf I put in doesn’t feel as sturdy as I would like, but we just won’t put anything heavy on it. I think I made the holes for the anchors a little too big. It comes out from the wall a little.

The thing I’m most worried about is the cat jumping up there with her big bottom and pulling the whole thing down.

Here are some pictures of my handiwork...

This is the first, and very wobbly shelf.

Here are both shelves together.

The second one is a little uneven but I think it’s hard to tell.

No Touching

This skin that has rarely been touched by love,
It trembles whenever someone comes near,
Involuntary spasms shoot up my back and I shudder.
Their finger tips on my skin feel like burning embers,
The pain runs deep from their touch, and I wonder,
Will I ever be able to feel?
Or will I always be numb to touch.

Others don’t understand,
They laugh at me,
Mocking and taunting me.
They think I am cold and cruel,
They think that the unfeeling extends to my heart.
Sometimes in an attempt to help,
But mostly just for their own amusement,
They surround me in an unwanted grasp.
A bear hug not filled with torment,
Meant to make me feel inadequate and awkward.

Sometimes when the loneliness overtakes me,
My body aches for your touch,
The only touch that I crave, the only touch I need.
I dream about running my hands over your soft skin,
Gently squeezing your flesh,
Our bodies radiating heat as we lie curled up together,
Your calm breathing lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

I’ve accepted that this will never happen,
My body will never touch yours,
Your fingers will never run across mine.
I am a prisoner to the fear that cripples me into this life,
Afraid to be exposed and to be vulnerable,
I will remain forever alone.

When I heard about Michael

My reaction to the death of Michael Jackson surprised me. It shocked and upset me more than I would have ever guessed. I was “working” a booth at a baseball game with the new guy at work. We had been standing around chatting about the nothing things you talk about with people you barely know. I got a text message, so I glanced down at it to see what it said. It said, “This is weird. Michael Jackson is dead.” I gasped “Oh my god!” and I must have looked upset because new guy looked at me concerned and said “What’s wrong?” to which I answered, “Michael Jackson is dead.”

His reaction to the news was as surprising as mine. He was clearly shocked and kept asking me how reliable my friend was, and started texting his friends to see if anyone had heard about it. Finally he remembered he had the internet on his phone, so he googled it and sure enough it was true.

For the next couple hours we both started reminiscing about Michael, and what a big part of our childhoods he had been. For me, he was really the first person I recognized as being a musician. I remember watching some sort of biography thing on him and being intrigued.

As I grew up, his music and the bizarre events in his life have always been there in the background. While I enjoy his music, I have never bought any of it, (although my sister has his greatest hits tapes somewhere...). Before this I would have never considered myself a fan. Now I would like to think so.

I’m sure many people will talk about all of the weird things he has done, and the allegations that have been made, but I have decided that I would like to remember him for the good stuff in his life. No matter what his faults were I think he genuinely loved his children, and tried to do what he thought was best. He was after all human.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I have both spoken and laughed at many a joke at his expense, but right now while it is still fresh, I am going to respect his memory as best I can.

Bread

I just ate a giant piece of a baguette and I had to chew it so much I could feel it in my temples. I've had this happen before, it's a very weird sensation. It almost feels as though, with each bite your temples are going into your head. In a strange way it makes me feel like a frog, if I knew what a frog felt like...

The Remote

The room is dark except for the glow coming off the tv. The “gentle” sound of breathing drowns out the sound of the horrible show I am being forced to watch. My eyes search around the room looking for any sign of the remote, but I know where it is. It is somewhere under the body sleeping beside me.

I gently poke and prod searching for a glimpse of my salvation, but still I find nothing. As the minutes pass I get closer and closer to the point of no return. The point where it is too late to see the show I want to watch. My choices are growing limited, either I finish watching this horribly fascinating late night time filler, or I sit in darkness. I’m not lazy, you see, I can only change the channel with the special and my beloved remote. The “clicker” which rests, (uncomfortably?) under my sleeping comrade.

It’s going off...grown men are crying.

NOT INTERESTED!!!

I usually screen all my calls. We rarely get phone calls and we usually expect the ones we get. When the phone rang this morning I thought it might be my friend, so instead of waiting for it to go to the machine to be sure, I picked it up.

Immediately the guy on the other line asked for someone who wasn’t me. I figured as soon as I said “Sorry wrong number” that would be the end of that conversation. I was sorely mistaken.
He went on to ask me if the address was, “Blah, blah, blah”, I said “No, not at all.”, and once again thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. He then went on to ask me if I was interested in...”No not interested, thanks.” This is when he became aggressive.

“But you haven’t even heard my offer.” He began to tell me his offer, it was for a newspaper, I know I don’t want a newspaper, so once again I said “Sorry I’m not interested.” He started getting frustrated with me saying, “Can you just listen to me? We’re trying to start up a route for the youth in your region, this would really help them out...blah, blah, blah.” Ok first of all, I already told him he had the wrong address, so he doesn’t even know what region he is calling, second of all I AM NOT INTERESTED!!! I tell him again, and say I have to go, he then starts desperately trying to convince me, telling me I’ll get coupons in the paper and such. Now the reason I haven’t hung up on this guy yet is because I realize that they are just doing their job, and occasionally I have to call people (not for sales, or anything, but they always think that’s why I’m calling at first), so I like to be polite.

This guy just wouldn’t let up so finally I just said “Sorry I have to go” and hung up on him while he was midsentence. What I don’t understand is why this guy kept me on the phone, I’m not going to change my mind, so really you are just wasting your time keeping me on the phone. I’ve done sales and you can tell when you have a chance, and when you don’t. I think I’m going to have to go back to not answering the phone.

Riverdud

I went to see Riverdance the other night. Now I have always been under the impression that Riverdance was just a bunch of people tap dancing in unison. I love tap dancing, and as a kid I wanted desperately to take tap, but was never allowed. I was very excited to see this, tapping my toes at my desk in the days leading up to it. One of my co-workers had seen it a few days before me and in retrospect she had tried to warn me that it wasn’t all tap, but I was just too excited.

As soon as it started I began to get nervous, but after a bit they started tapping and I settled in to enjoy it. The tap dancing was amazing!!! If only they stuck to tapping.

Now I understand that it is hard to tap for two straight hours, but I’m sure they could have come up with a better idea than what they did. To me Riverdance was like The Hobbit mixed with A Christmas Carol. Confused? So was I. One moment there were fairies dancing across the stage, and the next moment carollers came out with candles lit. Meanwhile in the background there was a cheesy video screen with images such as moons, trees and at one point a flame on the screen.

The worst part of the show was when a woman came out and started stomping around on the floor. The only comparison I can think of is when the people who live above me walk around their apartment with their shoes on. There was no real rhythm to her dancing, and when she wasn’t clomping around the stage, she was swooshing her dress around. And if once wasn’t enough, near the end of the show they had her come out again to torment us some more.
After the intermission a black man came out and started singing about being a slave. Immediately following that 2 black guys came out and starting doing “jazz tap” and ended up in a “tap down” with three folky type tappers. In the end they all made up and tapped off the stage together. Don’t get me wrong, it was great, but very staged.

Occasionally on the news, or in a talk show they will show you a scene from a play or musical. Riverdance felt like I was watching a series of these. One part didn’t seem connected to the next.

Overall the show felt professionally boring. You could tell that these people have been doing this for years, and there was no passion in their dancing. The attempt at a story to string the show together was both confusing and boring. I found myself very restless about halfway through, and barely made it to the end without pulling my hair out (I tried to nap, but with the occasional tapping, that was too difficult). I give Riverdance two toes down.