Presence

Dorothy Allison, author of Bastard Out of Carolina, is speaking, reading and book-signing at SJSU next Wednesday.

I have the book. It'd be cool to have it signed!

I feel inclined to attend this event. After all, i went to SJSU just last year. I can probably find the Music Concert Hall at 7:30 p.m.

I imagine standing in line to finally approach Ms. Allison. O to be in her proximity!

"How did you like the book?" She'd ask, looking up briefly from signing "Love, D.A." with her marbled-barrelled rollerball.

"Umm..." I'd stammer. "I haven't read it yet. But i've seen the movie. Luv the movie!"

I imagine her hurling the book at me. I'd duck, pick it up, and merrily skip out of there. The bastard that i am.

Snippet 25

V:
My thermostat says 78°, but i feel like i should turn my heat on.

Taylor:
Why so cold?

V:
Apparently the butter i consumed tonight has not been converted to a fatty, insulating subdermal layer just yet.

Taylor:
Give it time... Between the butter and the French toast... It will come.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 4

Limoncello @ The Van's.

No Caption Necessary... Almost 3

I like my thighs now that i'm thin... Even though they look like stubs here. Remind me of Boxing Helena.

Food For Thought 3

I bought horseradish on Tueaday. Not just any ol' horseradish, Tulelake horseradish - the hottest, unadulterated cut horseradish in the consumer market.

But i did not get cocktail shrimp with it. Owning the horseradish seemed adequate to exorcise certain Saturday memories.

I imagined JD driving out of Utah that day, continuing on his quest to the East Coast.

Seaweed has made Taylor cry.

Seaweed and horseradish. Who would've thought...

And You May Quote Me 13

Sometimes it takes one relationship to incinerate your wick. And you can never be lit again.

Lunar 3

Today is mid-autumn festival in the Chinese culture, sorta like the equivalent of Thanksgiving, when families get together and celebrate kinship. Tonight the moon is supposed to be the sharpest and roundest in the entire year, symbolizing perfect (re)union.

I catch a glimpse of the moon tonight, peeking back from behind a treetop silhouette. A famous ancient poem comes to mind - my loose translation will put me to shame:

The moon rises above the tips of willow branches
An after-dusk date made

Alas, 'tis after dusk. There shalt be no date. No family, either. And, saddest, but saddest of all, no mooncake.

Stupidest Occupational Hazard

Multiple paper cuts on the job... NOT self-inflicted

Quote 56

Together they stand on the hill,
telling each other
Stories and feeling the
Warmth of the sun on their backs.
And that, my friends,
is how it is
with
Love.

- A Lovely Love Story, Edward Monkton

Peregrination 4

This afternoon i walked to the Borders 0.79 mile from my house. That's right. Walked. It felt like such a quest even though it was only two sets of traffic lights away.

On the way there i watched clouds reflected in puddles with fallen leaves afloat. The sight filled me with joy. I could not recall the last time i derived joy from a puddle.

Whether we drive or take public transportation, everyday we transport ourselves from one enclosed space to another. There is something about being out in the open that makes us feel connected... makes us feel alive.

On the way home the sun finally peeked through fluffy cumuli that resembled a quilt (the cliché is there for a reason.) I felt so fortunate to have such beauty befall me, to feel my heart pumping in my chest, and to be carrying home books i gladly purchased off the bargain racks.

Golden

This morning, pulling out of the driveway, the rising sun illuminated this single tree across the street, creating the most amazing glow and leafy silhouette. I was so engrossed i almost drove blindly into traffic.

Later in the day, as i was on my break, caressing the bottom of my mug, peering outside, i spotted this one lone tree across street with the most gorgeous patch of fiery red. However many times i witness fall foliage, the sight takes my breath away.

Conclusion: For happiness, no matter the brevity, look across the street.

Before sunset, i noticed fall colors around my apartment. All of a sudden i was grateful autumn was here. I was not forlorn for the end of summer any more.

Acceptance. What a beautiful thing.

Selective

This morning i couldn't decide which lipstick would go with my dusty pink sweater. (I know, i can be such a girl at times.) My trusty glittery rose would certainly do, but i wouldn't wear my weekend shade to work. (That's right. There are categories.)

I dug deep into my stash (i used to be obsessed with makeup) and found this tube called Merlot.

Eureka! Who wouldn't want wine on their lips all day? Yum!

Dream 2

A middle-aged woman is on the roof of a masonry building, out on the ledge, holding on pensively. Her red matte jersey dress waves in the light breeze like the American flag, gentle and proud.

I can tell she's determined to jump. I want to tell someone. I think i should scream. But a part of me wants to see her step off.

She's about to turn my way and notice i'm watching and not doing a thing. So i scamper down the hallway to the other side of the building so i'll be behind her.

I'm holding my breath... She does it! With one swift, liberating leap.

I feel like a bad person for about 5 seconds. Then i realize: She is i.

Not Least

Toward the end of Meet Joe Black, right before Death reluctantly pries himself away from Susan, he whispers in her ear, "Thank you for loving me."

That scene chokes me up.

Two years later, in 2000, on the Bon Jovi album Crush, track #3 is entitled identical as the aforementioned line.

I wonder if Jon was inspired by the film like i. *Chuckle* Now, the song is only mediocre (i love Bon Jovi, but i'm sorry!) Still, you've gotta appreciate the sentiment...

Quote 55

Let's fact it: Once you've sipped from the golden goblet, it's hard to go back to the plastic cup.

- JD

Inflamed

I have ulcerated colitis, an immune system disorder. Basically your antibodies attack your colon as if it were foreign, causing, as the term suggests, ulcers.

Sounds simple enough. But aside from your colon bleeding and shedding chunks of its walls, it also fails to reabsorb fluids. Not only do you get seriously dehydrated from the trotts, your excretion starts to smell like food, your digestive system is so incapacitated. It really is quite surreal sitting on the head, having food come out of your ass.

You are plagued with a constant dull ache in your abdomen, as if you've been punched 25 times consecutively, interspersed with nagging, gut-wrenching pain that makes you curl up like a well-sautéed shrimp. After a while you cannot stomach anything, not even water. Anything would trigger gastric contractions. You are so malnourished, you hurt all over. The loss of electrolytes may swell your lip or your ankles - you never know. You are too weak to walk or shower. You are practically bedridden.

You think to yourself: This is no way to live.

My internalist tells me this is a white women's disease. It rarely strikes any other race.

Hmm. Another proof my identity crisis runs deep: Even my colon wants to be white.

Featherweight 2

On Monday, after weeks of resistance, i finally caved in and bought some size 2 clothes.

For almost two decades i've fluctuated between size 4 and size 8. Size 2 is a first, i must say. Some items of which are even a little roomy. So i'm just marginal - not even quite 2. Like that Elisa song, i'm "A Little Over Zero". Arguably every American girl's dream. And an unrealistic one at that.

It's kind of a statement. I know i won't stay a 2 forever. I just so enjoy it while it lasts. And now i have outfits i'll never wear again as evidence.

The exhilaration is silly though. The flesh will inevitably deteriorate and rot. It's just wrapping paper that's gonna sooner or later land in a dumpster.

Murphy's law: As soon as i own tiny garments, my appetite returns. Eating becomes an appealing concept again. The need to punish myself vanishes.

Dammit, i want my depression back!

Clean

I love emerging from the shower, moist and fragrant all over.

I stare in the mirror this evening and don't find myself very attractive... and aware i've been slightly cranky all day. I wonder why.

I fix my gaze on my torso again and... seconds later, want to cum. I wonder if i've been cranky cuz i haven't cum in... five days. (But who's counting?)

Strange. I could go three months in the past, easy. Without so much as a tinge of desire. I see sex begets sex, indeed.

Snap

Last month, by the 18th, i had taken 113 pictures.

In stark contrast, this month, as of today, i have taken...

Five.

I don't think i'm flatlining on joy... Could i be flatlining on desire?... Or the need to document everything?

... Like i've commented on NSNM's blog, the best pictures are imbedded in your brain cells.

On the BART

Two vibrant women in their fifties sitting side by side high-five each other in delight, grinning ear to ear. Then they hug. Not your "there, there" variety, but they hold tight, reveling in that moment of connection. As they carry on a conversation afterwards, to me they are just beaming.

I hope JM moves back from MN so her son can go to Stanford in a couple of years. Right now she's the only woman i can imagine high-fiving and hugging on the BART in my fifties. I miss her, that sweet woman of a friend.

Eww! Food!...

Taylor is so cute. He has grown concerned with my anorexic tendencies and has taken upon himself to make sure i eat.

"I knew someone in high school who died of organ failure!" Taylor said over dinner last night. "She just didn't eat!"

He said something to the effect of "You are gonna die!" And i said something to the effect of "everybody is dying."

"If you don't eat," said Taylor. "You'll die a lot faster."

"I eat..." I said.

"If you died," Taylor continued. "I'd miss you."

"Really?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah," replied Taylor, nodding. "I'd miss you."

I smiled, "That's a great incentive not to die."

Drugged

Tuesday morning i took my first half-pill of Celexa. I haven't had a drop to drink this week. By Wednesday night i had this marvelous sense of peace like a soft blanket over me, dripping with honey and warmer than single malt - greater serenity than i would've ever dared dream of.

That was last night. This morning i became incredibly drowsy even though i'd had more than enough sleep. Later at work, i became giddy. The slightest thing would make me smile or want to giggle. Nothing bothered me. All of a sudden i didn't hate my job any more.

I told Denisse via text. I was actually kinda scared, the effect was so extreme. These meds are supposed to take weeks to kick in. I guess i'm just receptive.

Denisse texted back, "I want one of those!"

The rest of the day i was in a fog. I'm surprised i functioned at all. When i did speak I did slowly and out of cadence, and it was like hearing some else talk. Very surreal.

Driving was challenging. Good thing i wasn't operating heavy machinery on a farm.

As soon as i got home i took an hour-long nap and almost didn't want to get up. After showering i could feel the drug wearing off, but still felt groggy. Shit, it only took 12 hours!

I can't possibly live like this. Yet don't wanna go back to depression. Now what? I left a message for my psychiatrist.

"I don't understand how you can be 'happy' and drowsy at the same time," Denisse wrote in her email tonight.

It boggles my mind too, i told her. It was like a muffled kind of high.

Snippet 24

Bill:
It's hard to let go, isn't it?

Death:
Yes, it is.

Bill:
What can I tell you? That's life.

- Meet Joe Black

Shrinkage

On Saturday night, over sherry, i told Denisse that i had lost so much weight that none of my clothes fit any more. Especially my work clothes. I have to roll the waistband of my dress pants, sweatpants-style, so i won't trip over them sitting so low on my hips.

"Even my bras are loose now," i said. "Not so much the cups, but the girth..."

She turned to me in horror. "That's a significant amount of weight loss!" She exclaimed.

"Really?" I said.

"Uh, ye-ah!" Said Denisse in a sarcastic tone.

"This morning, after weighing myself, i found myself wondering if i could be one of those people who go down to, like, 90 lb.," i said.

She looked at me horrified again. "Why would you want to?" She raised her voice.

"I'm not gonna do it," i said. "I just wondered if i could. Just a thought."

"Well it's a very unusual thought!" Said a disturbed Denisse.

Today i revisited my psychiatrist to be treated for aggravated depression. At the end of the session, she said, "You hang in there!"

I saw and heard genuine concern. I thanked her sincerely in return.

"And eat something!" She said. And laughed. I laughed too.

So i did. I had me a gigantic Vietnamese sandwich for late lunch. Still sick to my stomach 5 hours later. Yay. Healing as we speak.

Halt

Distant branches no longer sway
I stare motionless
In accord
my heart has stood still

I Wonder...

... if clinical depression is evolution's way of curbing global overpopulation.

Uninvited

Mere mire
aspires not
to near
the lotus
who has risen
above
the only realm
it's known

Featherweight

I've lost two more pounds since i last blogged about my weight. I'm not trying, i swear!

It's official: i'm anorexic.

Taylor says labeling is a cop-out. So one can continue a pattern.

It's official: i'm an anorexic cop-out.

Enigma

You know... For someone who hardly eats, i sure shit a lot.

Like, where's all that coming from?

Frozen

Lesson recently learned: If you care about someone, sometimes the best thing you can do is to leave them alone.

Especially if you're toxic, just like your therapist told you, but worded differently.

All morning i wanted to text Taylor to assure him i would honor his request for peace. But if i contacted him, i wouldn't be leaving him in peace. So i couldn't.

Ironic, don'tcha think?

Deprived

I've dropped 32 lb. from my peak last year. Yes, i had to use a virtual calculator for that. And no, i couldn't believe the figure. I had to do it twice. I haven't been this light since prepubescence.

I haven't starved myself since i was 13. Passion for alimentary pleasure is in my blood. I didn't think i could do it again. But boy, that sense of mind over body can be exhilarating and empowering. You will yourself into not needing it. Same with sex.

I have blogged about my food issues before. Lately they have multiplied in severity exponentially. I can't even begin to analyze, there are so many factors.

A few meetings ago, Taylor finally asked, "Are you anorexic? You never eat."

I burst out laughing. It seemed absurd. Or perhaps it was nervous laughter. I can't be sure now in retrospect.

"I've never been," i said.

I told Denisse a few days later, "I can't be anorexic. I eat!"

Denisse frowned. "There are various degrees," she said. "It's about self-deprivation."

In the past couple of days i've considered that, if i haven't been, i'm well on my way if i don't watch my ways. I went 30 hours without food at one point. I simply wasn't hungry. And, quite frankly, kinda disgusted by the notion of ingestion. I recognize the classic symptom of gazing into the mirror and seeing flaws. And it doesn't help that i get compliments for "looking great".

A pen-pal who has experienced the disease comes to mind. We have just discussed the matter in recent past. I wonder if i subconsciously wanted to be a copycat.

I have read up on, and relate to, a lot of disorders. I am not unfamiliar with the psychological condition behind anorexia. Right now, one fact comes to mind: I want to disappear.

Tonight, again, i didn't want to be home alone. I met up with my brother's family for dinner even though i don't do dinner. I was so depressed, i couldn't enjoy their company as much as i normally do. (Ha! "Normal"!) I felt nauseous afterwards. I wasn't imagining it. I had gastric contractions. My stomach wanted to expel its contents.

Maybe i'm bulimic too. Great. Add that to the list.

Quote 54

一切會好
只要忍到
劇終

- "神經痛"， 何韻詩

Vignette 5

Referring to the pink and green striped tank i now use as sleepwear, i informed Denisse who stayed over the long weekend, "This top i'm wearing? I've had it since 1984."

"Oh!" Exclaimed Denisse. "It's vintage!"

I'm vintage.

Play

On the second working day of every month i send out statements. Too many to fit in the outbox on my office door.

Every month i post a little note for the mail carrier: "More outgoing mail inside. Thank you!"

That's right. Those in the outbox are introverts. Inside, it's a party!

Lucidity

Haven't cried sober in quite a while. Until this afternoon. It's kinda nice.

Just like when you haven't fucked sober in a while...

It's a School Night Somewhere

I wake up to my neighbor still partying. Sounds like two guys & a gal carrying on. Much laughter & gaiety. I picture them still holding wine glasses.

I glance at my clock. It's 3:24 a.m.

"Are you kidding me?!" I thought. Instant anger. Perhaps not as much at the inconsideration as jealousy - friends to be merry with on a long weekend at 3:24 a.m.!

No matter. I have to be heard. Instinctively i bang hard on the wall 3 times with the ball of my fist. (Cuz three is a magic number. It's how you evoke a genie and stuff.) Whadaya know, someone makes what comes off as an utterance of realization. And then: Instant silence.

And now my left hand hurts like hell - it literally throbs. (I'm a leftie when it comes to certain things.) Assertive self-expression at the moment of conception? I identify more with Coyote than Roadrunner. And now i can't go back to sleep.

Scent-i-Mental

On my drive home i rubbed my eye and smelled Taylor's neck on my fingers. Taylor has the best-smelling neck - it smells like sex. (Yes, i'm nuts.)

(Yes, be vulnerable a little. It won't kill you.)

I came home to my apartment emitting a faint fragrance of the cherry blossom spritz that Denisse uses. (After having caught whiffs of it through the holidays i had coveted it enough to want it for myself, but by then it had become so her that i decided that would be infringement.) All of a sudden i was stricken with sadness she was gone. Merely a few hours prior i had made her cackle by calling my place a "love pad".

NSNM emailed me this morning to let me know she hadn't forgotten about me even though i may not have heard from her. There's nothing sweeter than someone letting you know you cross their mind from time to time. Women seem to be more attuned to that reassurance. When guys do it i'm moved to tears. Actually, regardless of gender, i easily get a lump in my throat.

When we first met, Taylor said i smelled like Vanilla & Honey by SoftSoap. Tonight, as i sniff the lingering scent on his hands, he says it reminds him of me. Aww... he actually thinks about me. Even though i smell nothing like vanilla or honey.

If being sentimental was beautiful, i'd be a pageant queen. Damn it, may i relinquish this friggin' scepter now?

Quote 53

I look for love and
all i see is
Your face

- "The Waves", Pearl Days, Elisa