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Wednesday, December 21st, 2011

Subject:Share a moment*
Time:1:15 am.
Mood:practicing non-attachment.
nearby waves playing on a golden shore.
sunlight looking for its’ way in.
thumpthump, two heartbeats together.
cold air speaks its’ mind.
“tighter, longer, linger, be human”
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, February 13th, 2008

Subject:dharma bum and the bum whisperer
Time:2:05 pm.
So today i noticed that across the street a new batch of construction workers were at play. Over time i've become quite annoyed by the construction as it is early, loud, and unforgivably unattractive. Do i mean that what they're building is an eyesoar in my neighborhood? yes... do i mean that the construction workers are unattracive... YES. Most of them were older and unnatractive mexicans. This new group were about 25, caucasion, and hot as fuck. one was running around in a tank top and the other was shirtless...

So over the course of my day i took time to stare at them through the window like i do at my fish when i feed them. Unfortunately try as i might, i couldn't seem to think of the construction worker equivalent to tropical flakes, dried prawn and blood worms. Though... i did get the impression that if i pressed my head up against the glass too close i would probably spook them just the same. so i remained back a bit from the windows until... i noticed one of the construction workers staring out his window... What was he looking at? i had to know...

i came close to the window and saw that just about twenty feet from their site was a girl standing completely still. She looked distant like she was waiting on someone and wondering what they were doing. Even a bit disturbed... as if the person she was waiting on was running so late she was torn as to whether she should turn back or go forward. she stayed perfectly still for more than 5 minutes, on the sidewalk, in the middle of a block, infront of construction work. She was dressed rather drab in boyish clothes...but did not quite appear to be a bum. She seemed to me about 22 with shoulder length brownish blondish hair.

by this point the hot construction worker had seen me at my window. he waved to me and signaled that he was staring at the same thing. we both gestured a "WTF, i don't know." experession. she tapped her right foot two times into the sidewalk. then she spun around in a circle. she then moved forward about 25 feet and stopped again.

i started to think what if this person was bipolar and off their meds... or heavily autistic and lost. i thought back to some of my old autistic kids and imagined them grown and wandering through a big city. i started to get dressed. by this time she'd gone around the corner and was out of site. i've seen plenty of crazy in my time... usually if there's nothing i think i can do i ignore it as you would a relative that has been to prison.

Just 2 days ago i was leaving a sushi restaurant on Broadway with some friends. I was full and had been drinking most of the day (except for at dinner). I had been doing loud and obnoxious fake laughing at some inane jokes my friends were making. A bum approached us and asked for some money. I turned toe while not completely stopping, to look at him directly in the face right into his eyes and laugh. "HAHAHAHAA" as if his request for money had been a much better attempt at a joke than my friends had been able to make. My friends said i was terrible. I thought: well that may be true but at least i can recognize when life's dangling a joke in front of me.

In all fairness i was burned by a bum when i was younger. i was 16, i was rollerblading to one of the cafe's in Harrisburg that i worked at downtown. This is back in my life when i used to be 20 minutes early for everything rather than 2 hours late... When suddenly i was accosted by a bum. "Do you have any money so i can get some food?" he said. I said "No, but i run that cafe just down the block and if you come in i can make you a sandwich." To which he replied "No thanks man, i don't like sandwiches." "Alright then, fuck you AND your people"- i smiled and skated off.

"Besides" i said to my friends after laughing in the bum's face. "i give money to poor people all the time. Like when they're selling those homeless newpapers... you know they have to be clean and making something of themselves to be allowed to sell those. Or anytime i go into a Starbucks, Subway, or Quiznos... i leave them my change in that cup by the register that says "tips are welcomed!" I mean at least they're trying to make an honest living... and a sandwich. Though i'm not truly convinced they're doing a successful job at either.

But i digress... the girl had gone out of my sight... i was just putting on my shoes when my mom called. I answered the phone, "sorry Ginny, i can't talk right now, there's a crazy lady across the street and she looks lost. and she just went around the corner so i'm gonna go follow her." The beautiful thing about Ginny, is she knows me. You could tell she wanted to ask if it was safe but she understood that it didn't matter. I've always had a proclivity for some adventure. Unless i was smoking refer... then, even getting up off the couch was an adventure i saw as insurmountable. Not to mention i seem to have some odd affinity for crazy people... just take a look at my last couple of boyfriends.

So i raced down my front steps while putting on my coat. got to the the corner and saw that she hadn't infact made it very far. i crossed the street. and i realized that i was heading in the same direction as Subway and if there was nothing i could do for this girl i'd might as well go get a chicken terriyaki double stuffed meat while i was dressed. as i approached she turned around... but now... i realized... it was not a she... it was a he. it was a young boy.

"Are you okay?" i asked.
"I have OCD, there's nothing anyone can do for me really."

"Okay, Yeah i used to work with some kids that had OCD among other things and it looked like you were having some trouble in that neighborhood back there. are you lost?
"No, no. I'm good"
"Do you know where you live?"
"Yeah, i do, thanks."
"okay... just wanted to make sure."
"do you need anything?"
"no, well a ciggarette if you've got it..."
"no i don't. But i was just on my way to go get some" i lied.
"do you wanna come with?" i said.
"yeah sure... just wait a minute i gotta do something."
I realized that he could be there for hours spinning and toe tapping so i offered to come back to him once i got the pack. "will you still be here?"
He said "just go ahead i'll catch up."
I thought: yeah right... at that rate i have time to go get ciggarettes and Subway."
So i walked but sure enough before i hit broadway he cought up with me. At this point he seemed eager to talk. So i listened and responded. Taking opportunities to ask him questions. Where do you live? Where are your parents? What is it you're afraid of?" He answered all of my questions... i knew he was telling the truth because he spoke with the raw kind of honesty of which only a crazy person is capable.

His name was Ryan. He was 18, he was homeless, dead father, mother in rehab. He'd been in jail 7 times since July. He'd clearly seen someone for his OCD based on his knowledge. After we got the cigs i asked him if he'd wanna go hang out in the park for a bit and split the pack with me. He was actually surprisingly intelligent for a homeless youth and straight male. He'd been staying in an abandoned house he told me. I asked him if it was one in the neighborhood where i'd seen him (across the street from my house). It was. I told him i'd noticed some people in there. He said "yeah they left... they were drug addicts and a bunch of bullies." I told him how one night one of them was convulsing on the sidewalk and how his friends wouldn't tell me what he was on. i wasn't about to perform CPR on him and his dirty ass mouth without my CPR screen if even then. i'd offered to call for help but i knew before hand they wouldn't go for that because they probably still had evidence on them and also they were infront of the place they'd been squatting at.

So Ryan and i walked around a bit and sat down on a bench. We talked alot about his drug addictions. How some made his OCD worse and some made them better. i told him how meth or anything like it would make his OCD much worse. he agreed confessing that he'd done it once and it gave him entirely new "habits" or ticks as most people call them. And i thought to myself -hmm, i wonder if years ago when i had my battle with speed, that's what caused my current battle with my sex addiction. perhaps sex for me... is just another obsessive compulsive "tick" i wondered. He told me that Heroin helped but that he had a real addiction problem with it. I told him about the many people i'd known to die from it.

We talked about being able to get stuff done vs. being able to focus on them. he dropped out after his 3rd year of 10th grade. i confessed to him that i'd had OCD as a youth. I used to be so worried about the environment and water conservation that i would go through my parents house over-twisting the faucet knobs so they wouldn't drip... until i eventually broke them all and they'd just pop right off spouting water everywhere. I was worried about wasting electricity so i'd go through the house like 5 times checking to make sure everything was turned off. I used to be worried one of our cats was too fat and would fall through a window screen if we left a window open so i'd go through the house like 5 times checking and rechecking and rechecking windows to make sure the cat's couldn't fit through the glass part and accidentally commit suicide. We had a lot of stray cats growing up because... like me, my moms always secretly had a soft spot for things that were lost. Sometimes i go back and there's new cats and i think... i've just walked into some sort of huge lesbian stereotype joke.

I told him about how in middleschool i'd be late all the time because i kept having to go back to my house to make sure i'd locked it behind me. I'd check it... get a few blocks again... then have to go back. I was also always late because i had terrible social phobia and would rather walk the extra few miles through the ghettos and deal with the occasional mugging than have to get onto a bus filled with my "peers", and have to sit next to John and Jane Q. Public. It was in fact... a miracle i'd gotten through gradeschool at all let alone... a year early.

He told me how the work was never too difficult for him he just couldn't get himself to do it. I confessed to him that it's still hard for me to sit down and do things that i need to do. I told him there was a bunch of stuff i needed to do today but still hadn't done (and even as i'm writing this i still haven't done). He asked me "like what?" and i told him "ya know... just errands and stuff that aren't nearly as interesting or exciting as the thoughts going through my head while i pace around not doing anything." I told him this 1. because it was the truth and 2. because at that moment i couldn't remember what any of the things were i had to do. How could i? - i didn't have my planner in front of me. and then i thought... that's it! i have an extra planner... i should give it to him. I realized the err in this thinking when I then fantasized about what a homeless, jobless, drug addict would do with a planner.
Wednesday - To Do:
1. wake up before construction team comes in to bulldoze.
2. search through garbage for breakfast.
3. beg for money at corner of Broadway and Olive.
4. beg for food in front of QFC Grocer on Broadway.
5. find new pavement to tap foot upon while spinning for the greatter good of the world.
6. score some Heroin.
7. don't die on Heroin.
8. find place to sleep.
9. write down tomorrow's todo list.
10. if it's too cold forget tomorrow's list and burn for heat.

I resumed my attention to our conversation. But now reminding myself of his "bummyness" i took note that he didn't acutally smell. "I've seen worse" i thought. then looking at his hands i noted how dirty his fingers looked... as if he'd been rooting for potatoes or something. This then triggered my OCD to resurface as i felt my mind make a beeline for my kitchen sink, several blocks away, where i now had to wash them as soon as humanly possible. Three times and another for good measure.

In actuallity i was never treated for OCD. My parents had no idea what it was. They just knew i was weird. So like all of my other neurosies i sorta fixed it on my own. I don't have any serious ticks anymore... at least not that i'm aware of. I don't think i ever will again because i don't think i'll ever be that insecure or afraid again. Real fear is something i haven't really had since highschool. Not afraid of death... that doesn't really leave much does it? Oh... except midgets, clowns and deer.

I told him about my attention deficit as well... to which he responded (very accurately i might add) at how he always thought OCD and ADD were opposites. He explained himself so articulately i almost felt like he was a close friend. and i told him that for the most part i agreed, most people can't have completely opposite neurosies and that "that's just me for ya..." my collection of undiagnosed neorsies were constantly vieing for attention and perhaps somehow they just all balance each other out.

But i digress (as per usual). We talked about books. He was reading a novel by Kavinsky. I suggested some other authors to him. I paused for a second wondering where he'd get books from but then i remembered back to my hoodlum days and how a book is about the easiest thing to lift. Mostly because of the layout of most book stores. but also because no one's really expecting it... there's a lack of security all the way around. The other customers are usually too busy reading or looking for something specific and the employees are usually daydreaming about what they'd rather be doing with their lives.

Ryan seemed to become anxious by a pregnant pause in the conversation while i'd been taking a second to imagine clown-midgets riding on deer through the construction site he'd been squating in. so he said "welp, i gotta go meet somebody on the other end of the park soon. it was nice meeting you jeci" i didn't even know what time it was... apparently he really didn't need a planner.

So i offered him the rest of my pack of ciggarettes confessing to him i had quit and it was best if he took them. Then i headed to Subway - my new addiction.
Comments: Read 2 orAdd Your Own.

Monday, April 16th, 2007

Subject:text conversation while i was at work:
Time:10:35 pm.
Zeus: So i just found out today that my real mom's side of the family was dominican. So this whole time I've only been HALF puerto rican!

Me: You say tomatoe... i say... pick it and make me some salsa you're a mexican.

Zeus: Ouch.

Me: oh you know i love ya... you had me at margarita.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 28th, 2006

Time:1:31 am.
12:21:50 AM angelboilikeu: Q:
12:21:59 AM angelboilikeu: when dan cheated on you...
12:22:04 AM angelboilikeu: how did you get past it?
12:23:04 AM prncessbubbles18: haha....um...i don't know if I'm still completely past it...but I guess I just made him BEG and prove to me that I'm worth it and prove to me that he wants me so much that he wouldn't be stupid enough to do it again.....
12:23:22 AM prncessbubbles18: and then I just remember that I can use it as leverage against him for the rest of his life...and that makes me happy.
12:23:39 AM angelboilikeu: LOL
12:23:50 AM angelboilikeu: how did he "prove"
12:24:00 AM prncessbubbles18: in fact...right now we're having a little fight.....and i just said to him, 'well why don't you just go sleep with someone else then.'
12:24:05 AM prncessbubbles18: you see....i OWN him.
12:24:10 AM prncessbubbles18: well....
12:24:11 AM angelboilikeu: lol
12:24:44 AM prncessbubbles18: i guess he just had to keep calling even though i ignored him....and keep listening even when i yelled at him a lot....stuff like that.
12:24:59 AM angelboilikeu: oh
12:25:09 AM prncessbubbles18: and buy me pretty things
12:25:20 AM angelboilikeu: that helps
12:25:26 AM prncessbubbles18: i'm a sucker for pretty shiny things
12:25:31 AM angelboilikeu: lol
12:25:40 AM angelboilikeu: i know you are kelly
12:25:41 AM prncessbubbles18: so are you going to tell me?
12:25:53 AM angelboilikeu: no it's too late and i need to get to bed
12:26:00 AM prncessbubbles18: ok
12:26:02 AM angelboilikeu: and it's a looong story
12:26:12 AM prncessbubbles18: well you will tell me about it soon
12:26:28 AM prncessbubbles18: now you will forget about it for awhile and sleep
12:26:34 AM prncessbubbles18: and dream about shiny pretty things
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 21st, 2006

Time:6:44 pm.
so matt spent the weekend and my place and when he cleaned my house everything was moved around... so i accidentally took an old folder to work and found some old poems... sorry guys if you don't like the boring stuff just skip ahead...


come on & sit down
here on the ground
take a walk with me
through our minds, we'll be free
let's get lost here
in the landscapes of the clouds
I have questions & answers
I think you have some too
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, November 7th, 2006

Time:12:29 am.
Unbearable Beauty

I can smell you on my fingers,
I can feel you on my lips…
When I close my eyes I see you smile.
I miss waking to the sunlight through your hair…
It’s your skin I can’t touch but your heart is still there…
I don’t know what’s right I don’t know what’s wrong…
I’m not sure if I care… because…
you are a beautiful song…
I can smell you on my fingers,
I can feel you on my lips…
I miss your pokes and nudges…
I miss your silly quips…
I can hear you speak, inches from me,
Just a breath away…
I’m not saying that it’s right
I’m not saying that it’s wrong
I’m not staying in this daydream for very long
For your sake…
I can only hope…
You don’t feel this way too…
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, August 18th, 2006

Subject:smart asses.
Time:12:11 am.
So there's a new guy at my gym... unattractive, straight, energetic, jocose and obstreperous...
Tonight he litterally bounced in my way while i was carrying a heavy sum of weight. I stopped at a polite distance to let him pass and he looked at me and said (get this):
"Hey man laugh a little! It'll make you feel better!"
....
those of you who know me can imagine the expression i assumed.
I don't care much for strangers telling me what to do... cheerful for otherwise.
So at the moment i was faced with what to do... i gave the only response one could in such a situation...
"My father just died." i glowered...

granted... i've never had a father... but that'll teach him none-the-less.
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Sunday, August 13th, 2006

Time:2:45 am.
"jeci, i can't believe you have handcuffs on your nightstand."

"well where do you keep yours?"
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, March 24th, 2006

Subject:lambent...
Time:11:03 pm.
"Today's word of the day is 'hortatory'... now it sound like something you are... but in actuallity it means something i am."
"ha...ha... and what is that?"
"It means -inspiring good deeds"
"What are you talking about Jeci? You make people wanna kill themselves..."
"That's what i mean... the world's over populated."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, March 21st, 2006

Subject:Kids are stoopid.
Time:4:33 pm.
I am currently working in an elementary school with one of my clients. The children of this school are from a rural middle-class background, mostly white. There has been a big deal made of Bullying in this school recently so that they've had assemblies and guest speakers on the subject.

The kids will make fun of a kid for saying "fart" when he meant to say "part". They'll ridicule a child for eating something packed from home that looks wierd. They will deride over a child walking with their shoe-laces untied. But when their teacher comes in with hair that's such a disaster, the red-cross wouldn't even give it coffee... nothing. When the morbidly obese kid gets two hotdogs, a bag of "Funions", a bag of Doritos, a carton of Oreos, and then goes back for "seconds" before he's even done with his "firsts" - NOTHING! Or when the kid most likely to get his ass beat dons a shirt that says "WWF!" to school.... NOTHING. When the female P.E. teacher... proclaims that she likes playing with balls... THEY SAY NOTHING.... They become hysterical when a substitute mispronounces a name but when their Art teacher is wearing colors that would make a leprachan blush they are SILENT.

I ask you... where are these childrens' values?? If these children are our future, frankly, i don't think i wanna stick around to see whet they will make things...

Now...i know wut you're thinking... i mire in a myriad of minutiae... well yes... i do. and it's alliteration as well.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, March 4th, 2006

Subject:tick tock?
Time:11:27 am.
Mood: happy.
So i went to the Belvedere last night in Lancaster with a bunch of friends. After the bar closed i called some other friends that had asked me to come over before going home. i ended up sleeping on their couch and awoke to two adorable little girls staring at me... like "whoooo's thaaat?" Their daddy had left to take care of some business and his boifriend was still passed out. So i played with the little munchkins for a few hours before driving back to Harrisburg. On my drive home i started to fantasize about what my own would be like... i can't shake it... it's eerie how vivid the scenarios are... and how i already know how to deal with them... i've spent so much time around other people's kids... and being one myself... parents are always telling me i'd be such a good parent... part of me believes them. It comes up again and again and again... it's like it's chasing me down...


"Who's you're daddy?"
I can imagine a scenario with my husband and i fighting over who gets called what parental name...
"well i say whoever she calls daddy first gets it."
"our kid is not going to call me mamma."
"can i?"
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, February 27th, 2006

Subject:hobbies
Time:12:18 am.
the other night i traded lessons in pillow-biting for guitar lessons... it was a win-win situation...

"jeci I didn't know you were practicing guitar..."
"yeah, actually i'm already writing my own song... it's called I Don't Know How To Play Guitar. and it's all done in chords E, D, and A Major."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, February 12th, 2006

Subject:and all the kings men...
Time:1:53 pm.
Mood: awake.
Since i was a wee child i can recall having a fascination with vampires. They're sensuality... timelessness... grace... mystery... passion... power and weakness... they dwell in the shadows and candle-lit coruscations, never fully seen... never fully understood... both blessed and cursed by time... they're need for humans... for these qualities the vampire would be isolated, remembered but never truely exist. They lack an ability to use even the simplest of our tools... no reflection exists to be seen. They posses nothing to know themselves with and are cought in an eternal dance with the living... providing them with their only continuity outside of time.

It occured to me, as so many things do when i forget what i am presently doing, that i could stare into a mirror for unaccountable time spans... not because i love or hate what i see... but because i do not know what i see. When i look into the mirror i do not necessarily confront myself... something precludes me from seeing myself as a whole. i see bits and parts, pieces of an implied form by way of continued lines and shapes. Why is it i search for the charming countenance with which i see my friends but only end up sifting through piecemeal? sometimes i find myself compelled to go out even though i know nothing awaits me... why? sometimes i just wanna get dressed up. i use myself as my main creative outlet... a blank canvas to dress in cloth and colour, expression and implied persona, gesticulations and purpose. "who will i be today?" i often say when entering my closet.
I have countless things and images, words and memories to dress my self-concept up in. And although i often, if not contstantly, feel the need to say or think "i alway like that" or "i never want that", "i am this or that" and "i am not this or that"... i usually do not allow myself to believe these banal consistencies because of their finite and imperfect limiting nature. I fear their restrictions with equal intensity as i seem to desire their ostensible security. Likewise i seem to seek out structure and definition as much as i resist it. There seems to be nothing more ecstatic than the feeling i get when someone describes me... for good or bad. Don me in adjectives, metaphores and simalies! the joy and release in feeling that even if i do not understand myself... someone does, says, therefore... i am here... i have been... i exist... i am as real as everyone else... and i make a difference.

But i digress don't i? Why is it so difficult... if not impossible to see myself with such singularity and wholeness as others. i feel this keeps me from being able to truely appreciate and love and adore myself as much as i can others... as much as i should be able to by earned, if not inherent right.

Seems trivial right? But perhaps not... take an intimate relationship for instance... or lack there of rather... If a person cannot seem to commit to another wholly, perhaps it is because they cannot give what is not theirs. If i do not own the image of myself the concept of me... if it belongs to all these other sources and people in my life... then perhaps it cannot be mine to give away. How do i know what i am giving away? what my painting really looks like? and how do i know what they will now be able to do with my painting... my self-portrait? A work of art should find its home not simply with a suitable care taker... but also with someone who appreciates the work of art, someone to whom it speaks like it would to no one else. How can one vend such a work of art in such a manner when the vendor can only see the prospective owner not the work of art itself? no one wants a dissatisfied patron or a wasted piece of art.

this entry is not about a problem, really, so much as a musing that i came upon... a small mouse sized door through which, it seems, i have grown too big to really fit through but, none-the-less, am imbued with a curiousity of the other side...

comments? suggestions? when all the pieces are there... how does one bring them together?
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Tuesday, December 6th, 2005

Subject:DON'T READ THIS.
Time:2:14 pm.
Mood:unassuming...?.
since i was a wee wittle wad... i always remember saying that age didn't matter...
and then i revoked that statement around 21...
and now... i'm just gonna shut the fuck up... because clearly... i don't have a clue.

see... people are gonna do what they wanna do regardless of what they think they should or shouldn't do... nobody listens anyways... you didn't.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, December 1st, 2005

Subject:What Would Jeci Do?
Time:4:55 pm.
So one of my kids was in a school therapy group while i was with him today... They were discussing ideas for the kids if they were feeling upset or angry. Because our kids have a tendencey to get upset like it's the total end of the world and not know how to calm down...
The one speech therapist gave the following scenario and question...
"A kid pulls the chair out from under you. How does it make you feel? What could you do about it? Let's try and get at least four different things you could do about it"
One kid suggested "talking to an adult", my kid proposed "taking deep breaths". "counting to 10" said another. "Move to Zanzibar and take opiate suppositories"... Luckily, only the first part of my thought slipped out of my lips before i was able to realize i was talking aloud, and it was appreciated humorously.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Subject:i'm all out of grapes...
Time:4:34 pm.
Excerpts from Thanksgiving Holidays past:

"jeci, why is there whip cream and bits of strawberries all over the place?"
"i just woke up." "obviously i haven't had a chance to clean yet."


"jeci, are you wearing over-alls?"
announces to entire party: "i'm wearing over-alls today because i'm thankful i can still look good in anything."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Thursday, November 17th, 2005

Subject:ho ho holy crap...
Time:10:46 pm.
Mood: amused.
Today in the main lobby of the school i was passing by one of the aides that works in the school. I like her and her kid is one of my classes. In the lobby was a school store set up showing the kids the different things they could buy for their family members for the hollidays with the cash those same family members had given them. I was in a rush and as i passed by her i told her that i wanted the Sponge Bob Square Pants Laundry Hamper. She laughed... i thought that would be it.

She says to me; "Well ya know i'll see if i can work that out for ya! Did you hear what happened last night?"
"No."
"I was at a bar and ran into this guy I haven't seen in over 15 years... before I had kids. He said to me 'You got a lil grey hair, put on a few pounds, kinda look like Mrs. Santa Clause.'"
My mouth dropped... because, at this point, i realized for the first time ever... that i've been talking with Mrs. Clause -on a daily basis. I can never look at this woman the same way again.
I tried desperately not to laugh but it was a poor attempt.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, November 13th, 2005

Subject:did you feel that??
Time:1:09 pm.
AngelboiLikeU: i would attend but i am in alexandria
The Brett T: VA?
AngelboiLikeU: and my car is in baltimore
AngelboiLikeU: yes
The Brett T: Nicely, why for?
AngelboiLikeU: went out last nite
AngelboiLikeU: details are a blur
The Brett T: ended up in Alexandria, miles away from my car, which in and of itself is miles from home
The Brett T: I'm guessing it was an 8.7 at least
The Brett T: :-)
AngelboiLikeU: please, not on a scale from one to jeci....
The Brett T: hahaha
AngelboiLikeU: i do recall strippers, sushi, cosmos, and brazillian boys
AngelboiLikeU: not necessarily in that order
The Brett T: Jeci is an unattainable goal to most of the god-fearing public
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, November 4th, 2005

Time:9:34 pm.
I was covering for my supervisor in an meeting today. The people that needed to be present were my clients' parents, their teachers, the learning support teachers, the occupational therapists, and the speech therapists, and the principal.

Everyone went around introducing themselves. I was in the middle..."Jeci here!".... everyone laughed... then the mom was like " We allll know Jeci! he's like our Sting." -i don't get it.

The the principal was late. She sat next to me....

She said nothing during the whole meeting... except a side conversation with one of her friends that came in.

I looked at her and thought, "an extra 30 years and some shoulder pads don't make you boss... you actually have to do things ya know."

She's a stupidhead.
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Sunday, October 30th, 2005

Time:10:29 am.
Mood:inquisitive....
i just realized one of the benefits of having a younger friend last night. They can help you see where you've been in a different light.

i have a friend who is searching for something, for someone. he's searching so hard. he's searching for this person that he doesn't want to think he already knows. he's searching so hard because who that missing person turns out to be... will give my friend the identity he thinks he is missing. If the person of his dreams is older, more masculine, stronger, and assertive... then my friend will feel smaller, younger, more yielding and so on. If the person of his dreams is younger he will feel older, wiser, more assertive, etc...

i see the problem. i know the problem. i'm not sure i know the solution. i'm not sure that it's good, bad, or unnecessary. i am forced to wonder if i am or have in my own way, done the same thing. perhaps this is why no one is juuust right... perhaps i'm looking for them to supply me with a definite self and i am not ready for one.

perhaps in my intentful seeking of an identity all these years i have actually kept myself from developing one naturally. my very attention to my own self-development has given me the power, if not the right... to feel i may willfully accumulate and deny those aspects one normally may take on, more or less naturally.

i don't really feel that these are very important things to think about at the point which i'm in in my life... but interesting, none-the-less.

Over-and-out.
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