Friday, December 12, 2008

9,000 Year Old Milk Cartons?

From Discovermagazine.com Top 100 Stories of 2008 #84: 9,000-Year-Old Milk Cartons Found

A new study examines the world's oldest cattle ranchers. by Andrew Curry

published online December 8, 2008

Anthropologists have long believed that there was a protracted lag between when humans started domesticating cattle for food—about 9,000 years ago—and when they managed to harness the animals to plows and collect their milk. “It’s one thing to keep an animal in a corral and quite another thing to get near enough to milk it,” says University of Bristol chemist Richard Evershed. To get a fix on when the second stage occurred, Evershed pulverized tiny pieces of 2,200 pottery fragments from sites in the Near East to see if they contained traces of dairy fats.

His results, published in August in Nature [subscription required], hint not only that people made the dairy leap just as soon as they began domesticating herd animals, but that these early “ranchers” were even processing milk and storing it. The study may also help geneticists solve the mystery of where and when people evolved the ability to digest the milk sugar lactose.

To this day, most adults around the world can’t easily digest milk, but those who can may be the progeny of populations in the Near East and southeastern Europe, where Evershed finds the earliest evidence of stored milk. “It’s a very interesting study. Put the two maps on top of each other and you get a coherent pattern,” says geneticist Anders Götherström of Uppsala University in Sweden.

Friday, November 07, 2008

What's good for the goose...

Steamy Magazines Make Men Feel as Bad As Women

Guys who check out the sexy female models in so-called lad magazines such as Maxim have more body-image problems than their pals, a new study finds.

While it is fairly well-known that women feel worse about their bodies after viewing other females in Cosmopolitan or Glamour, guys apparently take the same knock after perusing the lingerie-clad women spread across the pages of Maxim, FHM and Stuff.

The researchers say that by looking at idealized, sexualized women, guys feel less-than because they start thinking they need to measure up on the attractiveness scale to snag such a mate.

"Men make the inference that in order to be sexual and romantic with women of the similar caliber they see in Maxim magazine, they also need to be attractive," said lead researcher Jennifer Aubrey of the Department of Communications at the University of Missouri, Columbia.

The jury is still out on whether good-looking people snag others of their same physical caliber, however. In fact some research suggests women go for relatively less-attractive guys.

Nevertheless, Aubrey said lad magazines send the message that guys should be having lots of sex.

"So you have that in your head while you're looking at these magazines. If you want to get as much sex as possible with these types of women, then what's left but the feeling you need to look a certain way in order to do that," Aubrey told LiveScience.

Scourge of sexy women

Aubrey and her colleagues first looked at how guys reacted to magazines such as Maxim, FHM and Stuff, the pages of which are laden with scantily dressed and stylish gals along with articles written from an uber-male perspective about fashion, sex, technology and pop culture.

The researchers had 77 male university students answer questions about body self-consciousness and anxiety about appearance at the beginning of the study and one year later. They found that reading such magazines was related to more body self-consciousness. Statistics ruled out the possibility that guys who have body-image problems specifically sought out lad magazines.

"This was surprising because if you look at the cover of these magazines, they are mainly images of women," Aubrey said. "We wondered why magazines that were dominated by sexual images of women were having an effect on men's feelings about their own bodies."

In another study, Aubrey and her colleagues asked a group of 100 male undergraduate students to view one of these three types of images: layouts from issues of FHM, Maxim and Stuff showing a woman dressed in either lingerie or a bikini, along with a description of their appearances; layouts about male fashion showing well-dressed, fit guys; or magazine layouts that were "appearance-neutral" and so featured topics such as technology and film trivia.

The men who looked at the photo spreads of women reported more body self-consciousness than the other two groups. "Even more surprising was that the male fashion group reported the least amount of body self-consciousness among the three groups," Aubrey said.

Average Joe

To try and figure out why men get such a body-image knock from viewing images of beautiful women, the researchers ran a similar study with 143 male undergraduates. This time, the guys were divided into two groups, one viewing magazine spreads of sexually idealized females and the other viewing the same layouts with an average-looking boyfriend added to the photos next to the sexy woman, along with captions about how the female models are attracted to the average-looking men.

Men who looked at sexualized women reported being less likely to ask a woman out on a date or to interact with her. These men who were less romantically confident also were more self-conscious about their bodies.

Men who saw the average Joe pictures did report less body self-consciousness than men who saw images of just the sexy woman, but the finding wasn't statistically significant.

The research is detailed in the current issue of the journal Human Communication Research.

Monday, October 20, 2008

SUB-liminal SUB-WAY ADS...Milk's got beef...

How come Milk doesn't get billing like this?
Superior Drinkability?
Maybe this is why people need Impotence Counseling?
Milk just has beef with this ad because it's disgusting and why do you have to look at that?

THE REAL HARLEM!


Lucky enough to see bikers...
A night b-ball game...
Soul Food!
The night skyline...

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Seems I can't seem to get it straight...

So my buddy Rene gave me some advice...Told me if I break up with someone once, then it was probably meant to stay that way...Man, I wish he had told me that before I got back together with C, and now A asked me to marry, granted it was a roundabout way of asking, but it was the best he could muster and I know that...He admitted it was for love, not for convenience. I don't really take it seriously because he's not in a good way right now. But we do have something together and I'm not sure it's completely over with with him, though I know he's all wrong for me and Rene's words echo throughout my head. By the way, Rene, you are a bloody champion too for getting your no. 1 dream job and just doing it. I really wish I could spend more time with you though you're so faraway in Heidelberg. I've been doing my research for plane tix in January, $831 is the best deal I could get to Frankfurt roundtrip so far and since I've never been to Europe, I've been thinking about seeing as much as I can, getting a Eurail Pass and just going to all the surrounding places since they're so close. Like Berlin, Prague, Vienna, and Italy. I think England, France and Spain might be adding too much into my exploration. Plus I don't know how much I can afford to spend yet. Will update on what I plan to do...

Update: A and I broke it off a few months ago under bad circumstances...I don't have the money to visit Heidelberg yet, but in the future...In the meantime, I paid for Fred to come out in the summer 'cuz he's never been to New York and he really should be here for at least a vacation...

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Selfish BBoy Cipher...


Milk has beef with this waffles place in Harlem...
Milk doesn't think Iz the Wiz was a square...
How can you have a square cipher, Meres? No offense, Doug E., but I'd rather have pancakes...

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Milk doing some rounds...

Milk says these awnings are lies...This is not really a Halal food place...This one is a porno DVD place...I personally think the better Halal places are on carts, there's bones in the chicken and rice buffets in this neighborhood, but there is one place you can go to...

Milk says this is a misspelled awning. Don't they have spell check?

Bedstuy...My first home in New York...


Men of Many Hats...




Monday, August 18, 2008

Iron Chef Snails eating Target for breakfast...

Traitor Joe's...

Taking it to the Mattresses...

Clue, you proved you're not a man of honor.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Out of the Crates, Into the Fire!

This is Milk's store...

Tonight with Joan and Travis and Scifen and Skeme...

Mad love to Skeme and Scifen...
I'm from the East Bay and these aren't really burritos to me...Actually, Harlem's a better spot for Mexican food...

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

There is only one ALEX in my life now...Alex Silvia AKA Ink76...


I met Ink76 (founder of DAA) at a graff store with Sonic many years ago...He's my Puerto Rican father figure...I met them both shortly after meeting Iz the Wiz at a Lee Quinones gallery reception. I was surprised to see all the old school in the house...It was so beautiful for me...I was introduced to Iz by Star. Star thought I was a photographer, but Iz invited me to paint...He was President of the Phun Phactory with Pat (a former member of the X-Terminators, an elite force of the FBI which extinguished vandals and created artists...). I was able to paint with many people who were living legends to me and the place is now known as 5 Pointz...They gave me a rooftop spot you could see from the 7 train and Star gave me paint, a lot of paint, but he had beef with Alex...I was like a kid in a candy store...I've always adored Iz and have been concerned about his health because he was so hardcore that he had to have his kidneys replaced...It was the first time that he painted since his kidney replacement, so I felt honored...He is also a major father figure to me...These are my influences, those are my Dads...I'm also Twist's cousin...

A note to Skeme: I'm giving this drawing by my Dad to you for all the great support you have given me...Showing my love for my YNN crewmate, NicOne, founder of VideoGraff, also an accomplished photographer, not to mention a sick ass artist...Thanks for your support, too...

Sunday, August 10, 2008

A Confession and my last words to Ease...



I spent many years in love with you, but you chased fame and fortune and I have a different path. One time I was at one of Cope's parties and I didn't realize I was standing near Pink and you walked by and kissed her ass and totally ignored me even after I made your whole crew dinner at my house. Pink's never been nice to me. I've never really had any influential women painters in my life. Maybe that's the secret to my formulaic makeup. You didn't even stand up for me when I got busted by the cops. They accused me of knowing personal details about you and IHS. Hey, I've always been down with Ink. He's the one who's been my true family. He's the one who told me when I landed in the hospital that you didn't give a sh*t about me. I've never been the type to be pretentious and so after the Pink incident, I saw you and your crew at Tracy's show and left abruptly after I gave love to Tracy because I could not bear to be condescended to. You are not a friend. In fact, you're cruel. And I'm sorry that I wasted so much time thinking that one day...well, anyway, I hope you don't step on other people, as you did me...'Cuz I have always been nice. And I'm a lifer...

Friday, August 08, 2008

Two Weeks in Cali...I need a vacation...

It was not a vacation...Between kissing babies, I was working my ass off...And sometimes I let my guard down in cafes and unfortunately, it's not a perfect world in the hood...Oakland has hit hard times just like the rest of the country economically and now the bold criminals are getting so fierce that they strike inside the restaurants and cafes...I was able to do a bunch of work for my Mom, but it was not enough...She is not very healthy and super stressed out all the time...She really needs some help, but trust is an issue when it comes to employees. There was a fire at the nail salon, I rented two apartments, I dealt with fire inspections, I was cleaning out an apartment where this lady had left all her stuff, wall-to-wall...Anyways, I also got to stop into FiveTen Gallery (I was hoping to see Phresh, he's been having a hard time...) and had an emotional few seconds with Dream's shrine, took some flicks of Krash's clothes for Stem, and then after standing amongst the people who I have beef with who could not even say anything to my face, I left, angry...I have a lot of beef still...See, my problem with the AS crew is that people like Phresh who I met in the early 90's when he was painting the Pest Control wall (Ren and Stimpy) with Dream (that was also the first time I met Dream) is also on TDK...And he has always been cool, tries to hit me up all the time...I have a lot of love for him even though he is troubled...I cannot be made to choose to give up on everyone...Aware has nothing to do with these people...He and Cardio came to visit me in Boston when I was living in the dorms at college...I have nothing against him and so when he was DJing at Verse, was I supposed to ignore him and pretend not to have love for him because I know he is a sweet guy? I'm pissed that Crayone and Eskae and Ader feel that they can take away the people that I am also protective of...I told Sundance to protect the good ones, so they aren't taken advantage of by the pretentious other ones who flush the whole crew's rep down the toilet with their wackness...The thing is they hang onto Sundance's coat tails because he has a good reputation and people love him, but they take advantage of him by being wack to other people...I just don't want the good ones to be jaded...That's all...I still have love for the good ones...The problem is I have a really bad temper...I think that's why Ink76 knew me when we first met...He saw it in my eyes...He's ruined me because he recognized me right away...

And then I told Alex off...In a moment of weakness, I called him after my laptop got stolen...It was the wrong thing to do because all he could do was talk about himself. I think he realized his mistake because he called me the next morning first thing trying to be nice to me, but talked about Obama for like 10 minutes...The call was lost and I texted him, "If you can't admit you miss me, then what's the point? I know you miss the apartment, but I don't have a computer anymore. I think it would be better for you if you stay with the next bus." He called again and said we should talk in person when I get back because it was too hard to talk over the phone about personal stuff...

Anyways, it's over...I also told Fred that Crayone was Clue's friend and I ended my friendship with Clue too because he never wrote my Mom an apology and even had the nerve to blame me for his giving up his perfect life in Cali...I told him from the very beginning I would never ask him to move out to New York...That was all on him...

The good news is that I have a "silver lining"...

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Indecision 2008

So I came to Cali for a break from NY. I expected to be working quite a bit and squeezing some friends in when I could, but I didn't expect to play this bluffing game with my Mom...She blackmails me when she doesn't want me to kick it with people she doesn't approve of by taking the car keys away from me, as if I'm some sixteen year old kid under punishment or something...As if I am not a 36 year old woman capable of making my own decisions and choices and mistakes if I have to, as if I need to stick around for her abuse...She is a prison guard. And it makes me not want to come back. It's not just that...It's also a combination of flaky people and disappointing encounters...one of my old "friends" was ruthlessly weasel-like to me because he was broke, but he had no class or tact in coming clean with it and all my girlfriends have children and so I am way on the back burner in their schedules...I am already getting a bit depressed here...I don't think an extended stay here would be beneficial for my mental health...But I'm also fighting myself on my feelings about Alex. I am taking this time away from him to think about if I want to subject myself to a relationship with him. I feel like I should just remain a stranger who showed him kindness once. I don't owe him anything. He is not entitled to be more important than me in our relationship. I am worth way more than that...God, the night before he was leaving, he couldn't even tell me why he wanted to be with me. I mean it was like, I was artistic and smart, and I was a good influence on him that way. It's not because he cares about me or anything. All he could do was to talk about himself. That's when I realized it. He was going on and on about what he wanted for himself, not for us...and all I could think was "I'm a stranger"...I said, "People sometimes mistake kindness for weakness..." and also, "Sometimes it is the kindness of strangers that is most impactful for you..." I also said, "I just didn't want to think of myself as a stranger..." And I almost went to bed after trying to communicate my feelings to him, being blown off, waved off like I was a dog or something because he was doing some computer work that was "so important"...But I came out the bedroom one last time before going to bed peacefully and I said to him, "I hope you get everything you want Alex..." You know what? Dil called me today even though I flaked on him last time we were supposed to meet. I realize that he actually really does give a sh*t about me and he's together and he's all these things that Alex is not. I am tired of being with someone who doesn't have the patience to listen to me. Yes, it has been a power struggle, and I so tired of fighting to have respect in my own living space. I also don't feel that I should have to be responsible for Alex and have all my needs go to the wayside. He expects too much from me.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

"God doesn't play dice..."

Einstein Letter on God Sells for $404,000

Associated Press/Bloomsbury Auctions

A letter from Einstein that sold for $404,000.

Published: May 17, 2008

A letter the physicist wrote in 1954 to the philosopher Eric Gutkind, in which he described the Bible as “pretty childish” and scoffed at the notion that the Jews could be a “chosen people,” sold for $404,000 at an auction in London. That was 25 times the presale estimate.

The Associated Press quoted Rupert Powell, the managing director of Bloomsbury Auctions, as describing the unidentified buyer as having “a passion for theoretical physics and all that that entails.” Among the unsuccessful bidders, according to The Guardian newspaper, was Oxford evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins, an outspoken atheist.

The price makes the Gutkind letter one of the best sellers among Einstein manuscripts. That $404,000 is only a little less than the $442,500 paid for the entire collection of 53 love letters between Einstein and his first wife, Mileva Maric, at an auction at Christie’s in New York in 1996. At that same auction a paper by Einstein and his best friend, Michele Besso, attempting a calculation that would later be a pivotal piece of his crowning achievement, the General Theory of Relativity, went for $398,500.

Diana L. Kormos-Buchwald, a historian at the California Institute of Technology and head of the Einstein Papers project, said she was not surprised that the Gutkind letter, which was known to Einstein scholars, fetched such a high price.

“It is an important expression of Einstein’s thoughts and views on religion, on Judaism, on his views about God and religious texts,” she wrote in an e-mail message. She said the letter, which was not written for publication, was “concise and unvarnished” and more straightforward than the metaphors he usually turned to in public.

Gerald Holton, a historian of science at Harvard and a longtime Einstein expert, also was not surprised. He said Einstein’s marketability had been improved by the last few years of hoopla about the 100th anniversary of relativity, which included his selection as Time magazine’s Man of the Century in 2000, and several new biographies. Dr. Holton described the letter as “a feat of eloquent Credo in short form.”

Einstein, as he says in his autobiographical notes, lost his religion at the age of 12, concluding that it was all a lie, and he never looked back. But he never lost his religious feeling about the apparent order of the universe or his intuitive connection with its mystery, which he savored. “The most incomprehensible thing about the universe is its comprehensibility,” he once said.

“If something is in me that can be called religious,” he wrote in another letter, in 1954, “then it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world so far as science can reveal it.”

Einstein consistently characterized the idea of a personal God who answers prayers as naive, and life after death as wishful thinking. But his continual references to God — as a metaphor for physical law; in his famous rebuke to quantum mechanics, “God doesn’t play dice”; and in lines like the endlessly repeated, “ Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind” — has led some wishful thinkers to try to put him in the camp of some kind of believer or even, not long ago, to paint him as an advocate of intelligent design.

Trying to distinguish between a personal God and a more cosmic force, Einstein described himself as an “agnostic” and “not an atheist,” which he associated with the same intolerance as religious fanatics. “They are creatures who — in their grudge against the traditional ‘opium for the people’ — cannot bear the music of the spheres.”

The problem of God, he said, “is too vast for our limited minds.”

Einstein’s latest words offer scant comfort to the traditionally faithful.

In the letter, according to the A.P. account, he wrote that “the word God is for me nothing more than the expression and product of human weaknesses, the Bible a collection of honorable but still primitive legends which are nevertheless pretty childish.”

As for his fellow Jews, he said that Judaism, like all other religions, was “an incarnation of the most childish superstitions.”

He claimed a deep affinity with the Jewish people, he said, but “as far as my experience goes they are also no better than other human groups, although they are protected from the worst cancers by a lack of power. Otherwise I cannot see anything ‘chosen’ about them.”

Thursday, March 20, 2008

PTSD Gene?

Gene may help explain stress disorder

From Yahoo.com
By LINDSEY TANNER, AP Medical Writer
Tue Mar 18, 11:06 PM ET

CHICAGO - Groundbreaking research suggests genes help explain why some people can recover from a traumatic event while others suffer post-traumatic stress disorder. Though preliminary, the study provides insight into a condition expected to strike increasing numbers of military veterans returning from combat in Iraq and Afghanistan, one health expert said.

Researchers found that specific variations in a stress-related gene appeared to be influenced by trauma at a young age — in this case child abuse. That interaction strongly increased the chances for adult survivors of abuse to develop signs of PTSD.

Among adult survivors of severe child abuse, those with the specific gene variations scored more than twice as high (31) on a scale of post-traumatic stress, compared with those without the variations (13).

The worse the abuse, the stronger the risk in people with those gene variations.

The study of 900 adults is among the first to show that genes can be influenced by outside, nongenetic factors to trigger signs of PTSD. It is the largest of just two reports to show molecular evidence of a genetic influence on PTSD.

"We have known for over a decade, from twin studies, that genetic factors play a role in vulnerability to developing PTSD, but have had little success in identifying specific genetic variants that increase risk of the disorder," said Karestan Koenen, a Harvard psychologist doing similar research. She was not involved in the new study.

The results suggest that there are critical periods in childhood when the brain is vulnerable "to outside influences that can shape the developing stress-response system," said Emory University researcher and study co-author Dr. Kerry Ressler.

The study appears in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical Association. Several study authors, including Ressler, reported having financial ties to makers of psychiatric drugs.

Ressler noted that there are probably many other gene variants that contribute to risks for PTSD, and others may be more strongly linked to the disorder than the ones the researchers focused on.

Still, he and outside experts said the study is important and that similar advances could lead to tests that will help identify who's most at risk. Treatments including psychotherapy and psychiatric drugs could be targeted to those people, Ressler said.

About a quarter of a million Americans will develop PTSD at some point in their lives after being victimized or witnessing violence or other traumatic events. Rates are much higher in war veterans and people living in high-crime areas.

Symptoms can develop long after the event and usually include recurrent terrifying recollections of the trauma. Sufferers often have debilitating anxiety, irritability, insomnia and other signs of stress.

Dr. Thomas Insel, director of the National Institute of Mental Health, said the study is particularly valuable for the light it sheds on military veterans, who are known to be vulnerable to PTSD.

He said the results help explain differences in how two people see the same roadside bomb blast. One simply experiences it as "a bad day but goes back and is able to function." The other later develops paralyzing stress symptoms.

"This could be quite a wave that will hit us over the months and years ahead," Insel said. His agency paid for the study.

Study participants were mostly low-income black adults, aged 40 on average, who sought non-psychiatric health care at a public hospital in Atlanta. They were asked about experiences in childhood and as adults and gave saliva samples that underwent genetic testing.

Almost 30 percent of participants reported having been sexually or physically abused as children. Most also had experienced trauma as adults, including rape, attacks with weapons and other violence.

Researchers focused on symptoms of PTSD rather than an actual diagnosis, and found that about 25 percent had stress symptoms severe enough to meet criteria for the disorder, Ressler said.

Childhood abuse and adult trauma each increased risks for PTSD symptoms in adulthood. But the most severe symptoms occurred in the 30 percent of child abuse survivors who had variations in the stress gene.

Researchers were not able to determine if the symptoms were reactions to the child abuse or to the more recent trauma — or both, said co-author Rebekah Bradley, also of Emory University.

The study is an important contribution to a growing body of research showing how severe abuse early in life can have profound, lasting effects, said Duke University psychiatry expert John Fairbank, co-director of the National Center for Child Traumatic Stress. He was not involved in the research.

On the Net:

JAMA: http://jama.ama-assn.org

PTSD: http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd

Saturday, March 01, 2008

Oh Really? Mom never spared the wooden spoon...or the plastic-bottomed bedroom slipper...

Study: Spanking can bring problems later

From Yahoo.com Fri Feb 29, 8:15 PM ET

DURHAM, N.H. - New research by a University of New Hampshire domestic abuse expert says spanking children affects their sex lives as adults. Professor Murray Straus concludes that children who are spanked are more likely as adults to coerce partners to have sex, to have unprotected sex and to have masochistic sex.

Other studies have shown the link between spanking and physical violence, but Straus said his research is the first to show a link between corporal punishment and sexual behavior.

"My underlying motive was to bring this to the attention of parents and of more people," Straus said, "in the hope it will help continue the decrease in the use of corporal punishment."

Straus, co-director of UNH's Family Research Laboratory, conducted a study in the mid-1990s in which he asked 207 students at three colleges whether they'd ever been aroused by masochistic sex. He also asked them if they'd been spanked as children. He found that students who were spanked were nearly twice as likely to like masochistic sex.

He has bundled that study with three new ones that explore the connections between corporal punishment, coerced sex and risky sex. He presented all four studies this week at the American Psychological Association's Summit on Violence and Abuse in Relationships in Bethesda, Md.

Straus said his study found adults who were spanked as children are more likely to coerce their partners to have sex.

Straus asked 14,000 college students in 32 different countries whether they strongly disagreed, disagreed, agreed or strongly agreed with this statement: "I was spanked or hit a lot before age 12." He also asked whether they had ever verbally or physically coerced an uninterested partner to have sex.

He found a big difference between students who said they'd been hit a lot before age 12 and those who said they hadn't. For every increased step on Straus's four-step scale of agreement, men were 10 percent more likely to have verbally coerced sex from a partner by insisting on sex or threatening to end the relationship if the partner refused. Women were 12 percent more likely to have done that.

Previous studies have shown that 90 percent of parents strike their toddlers, a statistic that's held steady throughout the 30 years Straus has researched corporal punishment. Meanwhile, the number of parents who hit older children has drastically decreased. Straus said it's unclear why, though he has some theories. One is that 2- and 3-year-olds are less likely to respond to repeated verbal warnings.

Straus said he would like more pediatricians and child-rearing experts to warn against spanking. He'd also like lawmakers to take a stand by dedicating state money to teaching parents about the dangers of corporal punishment.

"The best-kept secret in child psychology is that children who were never spanked are among the best behaved," Straus said.

Friday, February 22, 2008

Rhyme of a Soulful Creature...

"Tis true my form is something odd,
but blaming me is blaming God.
Could I create myself anew,
I would not fail in pleasing you.

Was I so tall, could reach the pole,
or grasp the ocean with a span;
I would be measured by the soul.
The mind's the standard of the man."

-
Joseph Carey Merrick (1862 - 1890) AKA The Elephant Man

My newest favorite tv show is World's Strangest Remains on the Travel Channel...

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Cali memories of the future, back to my own reality in NY...

So Mon got married the weekend I was in Cali. She is my last standing homegirl...Or should I say was? That's it...Now I am absolutely the last single homegirl who is without child of my closest girlfriends. But my Mom, like I said in a previous entry had notions of trying to fix that by matchmaking me with this Korean civil engineer...Man, was that disastrous....?! I knew that we wouldn't be a good match just by sitting in the car about to go into the restaurant 'cuz I hoped it wasn't him when I was watching this guy with a swarthy kind of hunkering shouldered-dragging motion go in there, and sure enough, he was sitting at a table and recognized my Mom when we walked towards him. He was nervous at first. I kicked my Mom under the table as she introduced us clumsily and then left the restaurant, paying for the meal, leaving me without a car so that he would have to drive me home. His first question was, "Can you cook?" He had absolutely no sense of humor. I left him so many openings to be witty and funny, but nothing...His talk of work was the topic that got him to be most loquacious. He spoke of the difference between suspension and girder bridges and how the Bay Bridge was both. He was working on the calculations of an already designed construction at his job and talked of how he didn't really have to do anything because he trusted the engineers who actually created the construction design, he wasn't really one of the engineers who actually created stuff. And that's kind of the impression I got from him regarding his way of life in general. He got a PhD, so Mom made a big deal of it, but the way he talked about it was like he just didn't have any drive to do any better. I mean, when he first got to the US, he went to Ohio State and they don't have much of an Engineering Department so he went to North Carolina, not University of North Carolina but North Carolina State. He isn't very smart about places, obviously. He went to a Korean restaurant after work when he first moved to Oakland and parked off Telegraph and his new GPS device got stolen through a broken window. He was stuck on that. He hasn't bought a new one so he hasn't explored anywhere, like it's a GPS device that he needs to do that. He's lucky his whole car didn't get stripped or stolen, I think. It's stupid to leave something like that on the dash. I felt a bit guilty when he dropped me at my Mom's 'cuz she lives in a really nice part of Oakland, but he knows nothing about me, how I grew up, where I live now. We had nothing in common. He said he liked 70's and 80's music and I said, "Oh, so you like Zeppelin?" and he replied, "Oh, they're too hard rock..." What the hell kind of 70's music is he talking about then? When I explained I was a punk rocker when I was a teen he didn't seem to hear me or maybe didn't understand what I had said. He said he didn't like rap music because they used to play it in the clubs in Korea in the 90's (he specifically mentioned MC Hammer and Bobby Brown) and said that talking over music wasn't music. Anyways, it was a tormenting time and all I could do was think when the hell can I go home and smoke a cigarette? Anyways, he drove me home and we didn't even say good bye to one another. At least we weren't fake with one another. And then I missed Alex. And wished he was with me instead. The trip wasn't a total loss though. I got to kick it with Fred and we hung out feeding crackers to the purple head ducks, making fun of the geese after Super burritos at a good new place called Los Cantaros that replaced Roscoe's Chicken and Waffles. I walked a little ways around South Shore, the beach in Alameda, after a cup of Starbuck's in the early morning with Lisa...And I got to hang out with Joelle for about an hour or so while thrift shopping at the Goodwill on Alcatraz and San Pablo...See, I arrived with one bag, but left with two since I've been having to stock up on red tops and khakis for work at Target...Mom really helped me out there...She drove me out to Napa and we went Outlet shopping...YEAH for Outlet Shopping!...Don't get me wrong...It wasn't all shopping and hanging out with friends. I also worked for my Mom, showing apartments and taking photos of properties, doing inspection walk-throughs and Mom had a flooded water main scare and her maintenance man had ripped up the sidewalk and so she was terrified the City was going to fine her, so I had to do a couple of drive-bys to check on the progress of the situation...Anyways, the weather was beautiful and then I came back to being stuck in a holding pattern for an hour above New York after a half hour delay in Denver and then a two hour taxi ride which would normally take 20 minutes under better conditions. Of course, the day I get back it has to be the worst snowstorm we'd seen all season.

Thursday, January 31, 2008

the way it usually goes.

I was listening to Fiona Apple's "Paper Bag"...

I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had
But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope
I said, 'Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified
Come on put a little love here in my void,' he said
'It's all in your head,' and I said, 'So's everything'
But he didn't get it I thought he was a man
But he was just a little boy
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

This is usually how love goes for me. The line, "Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up" repeats in my head. And also, "Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love."

Monday, January 28, 2008

Is it "Normal" to trust?

Alex's big trip is that he keeps trying to define himself as "normal". I've long given up on knowing what that means or trying to define myself that way. Steve says everyone's crazy, just different kinds of crazy. I think I agree with that more than trying to make myself fit into a category that I don't feel exists really. Tonight Steve and I talked about bi-polar disorder. Apparently, his ex was also afflicted with it. I was trying to explain to him what it was like to have an episode, that it's the whole reason why Alex and I are a "tragic relationship". I had to explain what that paranoia about not being able to trust people feels like. And so I fell into another story about someone from my past, Shirley, AKA Valentine, though if I hadn't have been so hurt by Ezra (Eskae) once already, I would've been more disappointed by the loss of my friendship with Valentine. See, Ezra and I were inseparable for a long while in our early twenties. I even got him onto the crew, "Altered States" which he seems to have forgotten. Once, we had even done shrooms in Disneyland, piquing in ToonTown, and then went to Mickey Mouse's house and got Mickey Mouse himself to hit up our blackbooks. I remember thinking we were making some sort of trek to Mecca and it all was making more and more sense as we were herded like cattle in those zigzag endless "psych, you're not even close to the front" lines. At the front of the line, about five people were ushered into the next room with the big heavy doors, out of view, and then the heavy doors would close behind them. Meanwhile, in the background, there was a reel playing of Mickey Mouse giving an interview in an actor's chair on a large screen, so it was made to feel as if we were going backstage to meet him personally. The intensity was building and building until the doors finally opened and we were the ones to be ushered into the next room, The big heavy doors closed behind us and when we were finally in the room, I remember thinking why did Mickey need all those big old bodyguards? And why was he so small? And then I squeezed his glove in my hand so tight because I couldn't even feel his hand 'cuz the glove was so big and cushy...Anyways, Ezra had this epiphany while we were riding the "It's a Small World" ride and I couldn't help freaking out because all the mechanical puppets were clicking and their teeth were chattering and the song was creeping me out too. So Ezra and I spent countless hours talking about everything from politics to religion to scientific breakthroughs, he even visited me in New York and I told him a lot about my life and read him some of my writing until I realized he was using it in his art. Literally, he would draw MY ideas onto his canvasses. That wasn't the really awful part. The really awful part is how he changed, started to become so affected and aloof, playing the part of the guru so much after awhile just because he had some fame as an artist/DJ. And then that's when he started to talk all kinds of "space art bullsh*t and began talking to me as if I was a customer, as if he was some kind of walking talking advertisement promoting himself constantly. Then the other times I'd see him, he'd be so wasted he wouldn't remember anything. I didn't even know why we were friends anymore after awhile. And then I made the realization that he was just selfish and we weren't really friends at all. And that had broken my heart. Why did it break my heart? Because he didn't even care enough to find out how I was doing after I'd been depressed for a while in Cali. He'd talk to everyone else asking them why I was so upset with him but he never had the balls to come up to me personally or even call me to find out why, as if he was just trying to make himself look like a good person to them. Anyways, he was my main grievance with Altered States and now that is finally all over and done with. I have divorced him and AS, too. I spent many years upset by him though and he was my lesson not to trust people so much. And then there was Valentine. Valentine and I met when she had first moved to New York back in '96. She was sweet and innocent back then. She had even gone to my elementary school the year after I had graduated and had grown up amongst all the people that I had left behind when I went to a different school for middle school. We became fast friends. I took her to my New York, the one with graff artists and basement salsa DJ parties way up in the BX. Anyways, when I first met her she was dating this guy named Kenny. He was a heroin junkie and turned into a stalker towards the end of their relationship. This went on for four years. I tried to give her support, but had given up on telling her that I didn't think Kenny was the right guy for her because we love who we love and I didn't feel like it was my place to tell her what to do, plus she never listened. I was still willing to be her friend through all of it, though it was a bit draining at times. Anyways, I left New York and moved to Cali to put a portfolio for school. Shirley came out and she and I flew down to LA together and stayed at her friend's place in downtown LA right next to the Toy District and even went to Christina Ricci's New Year's Eve party. Then I moved to Boston for school. She came to visit once during my Senior year because her cousin lives in Boston and was getting married. This is when I was couching it at Greg's place waiting for the move-in date to arrive for me to move into my own apartment and he lived in a bachelor pad, a basement apartment (located at 666 Tremont Street in the South end) with two other guys. They didn't have windows or cable 'cuz they were broke. She had turned up her nose in disgust and complained the whole time. Josh, Greg's roommate, thought she was a bitch. I tried to cover for her and say that she wasn't really a bitch, but that's when I should've started to notice the change. Anyways, fastforward to me moving back to New York in 2004. I was living with Denise and Kate. I'm still in touch with Kate. She's a wonderful girl, but Denise was always aloof and kinda cold, yet she's the one who was renting the loft and who was offering these built-out rooms that Kate and I were renting. Anyways, I had started dating Rob, dating Rob...He wasn't my boyfriend. It wasn't really serious. Rob was this pot-smoking songwriting guitarist who was working a computer Systems dayjob and was really miserable. That's actually how we met. He put out a posting on Craigslist about how depressed he was and asked was there someone out there who could empathize, so I responded and after a couple weeks of talking on the phone, we actually decided to meet and then we started dating. At this time, my Mom and I started talking again after a heated fight about my half-brother a year before. That's also when she told me my half-sister SoYoung had dumped her kids in Seattle, WA and that they went to foster homes. I couldn't even think straight after that. I couldn't sleep or eat, I was consumed with finding them and making sure they were okay. I had just started a job at a television production company and was working 50-60 hours a week, too, doing pre-production. That's enough background of the stuff going on in my life at that time. Shirley had told me she needed some graphic design work done for her new clothing line and had complained that a friend of hers had told her that she was just using him to do her design work. That should've been a red flag, but I offered to do it for her. She was in a clutch, I wanted to help her out, and I thought I could get a good portfolio piece out of it, too. But she was demanding and wanted it done within a week. I had to shoot all the photos of the clothing. We used Rob's apartment to do the shoot. There was endless cropping. There was also a lot of problems with colorsyncing. And I met her every time she had to go over something at the drop of a hat. I wanted her to meet Rob, so we all went to a movie. Rob left his trash in his seat and I had picked it up and taken it to the trash. He had said, "They've got people whose job it is to do that." Shirley had thought that was tacky and had written him off and I think had written me off too because of that comment. I had to put up with Kenny for four years and she writes Rob off for being a dick once. Kate had observed my relationship with her and said that she thought she wasn't really my friend. This was probably illustrated in how she was selling some of her stuff at a store in the LES and I had gone to keep her company and I had shown interest in one of her dresses and she told me I owed her $80 for it even though I did all that design work for her for free trying to discourage me from taking it because I think she thought I didn't have the "right look" for the dress. I'm not skin and bones after all. Rob and I broke up after a while anyway. I was too much drama for him, plus he and I were all wrong for one another. I was so angst with all the stuff going on in my life with my family and just everything that I went out bombing. I painted a clown on a fence because that's how I felt. Anyways, I've said all this in a previous entry, but to put it in a nutshell, after getting caught for the clown, I did a stint at Riker's. The charges were dropped and I was sent to South Beach Hospital in Staten Island. I called Shirley and left her a message early on in my stay at South Beach. It was about a month later that I heard from her and she had said, "It took me a long time to call you back because it's just been such a burden on me," regarding my whole situation and yet, I was the one in the hospital with no place to go because Denise had decided not to let me back to the apartment. I found myself apologizing to her. Valentine didn't even visit all those months. She didn't even offer me a place to stay for awhile even though she had a two-bedroom apartment. I'd known her 9 years. I had considered her to be one of my better friends and I would've offered that to her. Anyways, I ended up taking Rob up on his offer to let me stay with him and got released from the hospital. When I got out, I called Shirley to ask her out for a cup of coffee. She called me back and said, "I started seeing someone and I just don't have time for you. I need a break." Wow, that was really cold. It had been about five months since I'd last seen her and she was saying she needed a break? I never asked her for anything. I didn't even hold it against her that she didn't offer a place to stay or that she didn't try to visit. I was just hoping for some friendship after getting out of the hospital which was like a jail sentence in itself. Anyways, she emailed me and told me that I was being immature when I called her out on how selfish she was. I packed up all her stuff and left it on her doostep. I want nothing to do with her ever again. Anyways, that's the kind of thing I had to deal with and thanks to being bi-polar I was able to figure out who my real friends are. So when I want to explain what's it's like to be bi-polar, I also have to explain what kind of relationships I had with people too because then it makes more sense why I don't trust a lot of people and why I feel like a lot of my relationships contributed to my inability to trust, too. I think Valentine got jaded. She's been in New York too long. She lost her innocence and also her good nature. All her friends are pretentious or drug abusers/alcys. I feel blessed that I left New York when I did for that one reason. I left before I could become one of those New Yorkers who thinks the world revolves around New York and that anyone from anywhere else just doesn't have a clue. It's important to me that I lived in Boston even though it was lonely and miserable at times, most of the time actually, just because I finally knew what it was like not to live in New York and I had to learn to live where I was. I wear it like a badge of honor now.

Text Updated 8/19/08...Shirley Leung, I live on Park and Grand. You don't...

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Tragic relationships...

Because of my situation with A, I have been thinking about this guy Arlan from my past. Plus I had been reminded of him since I had told the story to my new friend Steve. See, Steve was telling me about himself, that he never spoke until the age of 17. I mentioned Arlan was this really silent guy I knew too and somehow I just fell into our story. Arlan and I spent a lot of time together doing things like crossword puzzles. We probably started hanging out when I was like 20. He was a brilliant artist and I encouraged him to start playing in a band, so he took up drums in Jason's band, "Three Years Down". I'm the one who taught him to put oil in his car, too. On his twenty-first birthday, he called me up and asked me to go to Reno with him to celebrate, so I piled into a car with him and about four other dudes and we went, me the only girl. I think I had inspired him because I had been a bit older and took off by myself for my own twenty-first b-day to Tahoe, having an early breakfast in a room full with lumberjacks and then playing some slots. I had also written him a story for his twenty-first birthday, too. About this little boy who never spoke. The things he heard people say would make his ears bleed, and then one day there was this snail who observed him in his pains that no one else seemed to notice and she gave him a magic drum set and he found he could make as much noise as he wanted, entertaining all the woodland creatures who would gather to hear him play. The boy, in the end of the story, turns to the snail and smiles at her with this brilliant smile, ear-to-ear, his blue eyes twinkling. I really loved Arlan. I could see how uncomfortable he was trying so hard in social situations to speak. But I also knew that as someone who didn't say much as a young kid, you listen an awful lot and a lot of times, people say stupid things, even hurtful things, and then they put you into a box and that picture of you is what they expect from you. Arlan was, might still be, a raging alcoholic, probably became one in large part due to social awkwardness. Anyways, I was having my first manic episode (age 22) and I had been sitting next to Arlan on the couch at my Oakland place on Shafter and 45th where I had lived with four other people, and put my head on his shoulder and said quietly, "I love you, Arlan..." He turned to me and said, "I love you, too...but I'm an alcoholic, Milissa...And I can't give it up..." It felt like he'd wanted to tell me this for a long time. All I could do was get up and start talking to my Mom in the closet, except she really wasn't in the closet, if you know what I mean. Later that night I had visions of Arlan as this demon who was tearing me up with his claws and all I could do was shut my eyes thinking that I couldn't be harmed if I kept them closed and then in the morning, Joelle brought me to the hospital for the first time. We never talked about it again, but I knew he was right. He didn't want me to get hurt by his inability to give up drinking. I was also dealing with my mental. I saw him about 8 years ago once. I was sitting at this cafe waiting for Joelle and he comes up and sits down with me and we start to do a crossword puzzle together for old time's sake, I suppose. Whilst doing the puzzle, he says, "I've been thinking about going to AA lately..." And I looked at him, his now aged rosacea-from-drinking face and his body smelling of an alcoholic who's long been drinking, and I said, "That's good, Arlan. I think that's a good idea." Joelle came then and saw me with him and quickly took me away from him without a word to him. She later told me that since I'd been gone, he'd been doing the same thing every night, getting sh*t-faced at "Ye Olde Hut", the local townie dive and he was even barbacking for his drinks now...Steve listened to the story and said, "That's so sad..." I guess I had forgotten to think it was sad, just thinking that was truly love. Which is why I am reminded of him when I think of my new relationship with Alex. He's so angry and we have this great amount of love for one another, but the world would never put us together. I am hoping it won't turn out to be as tragic as it was for me and Arlan.

Friday, January 25, 2008

Mom's trying to fix me up with a Korean Civil Engineer, but Alex...

I have been seeing Alex, which is probably not so surprising since we got quite, well, "weirdly" close in the hospital. The first night he showed up in the ward, we spent a few long hours together before bedtime in the Activity Room alone, just the two of us, and there were periods of long silence so deafening you could feel the tension between us. I remember thinking he was strange, but attractive, and I wanted to leave him so many times because of the languorous awkwardnesses, but I stayed. And he told me to stay with him. That's right. TOLD me, "Stay" when he saw me fidgeting like I was going to get up at that moment. I felt like he had something he wanted to say to me the whole time.

The tension from that night continued up until he was released actually, just yesterday. In the hospital, we would sit by the back window of the dining room in chairs positioned right next to each other for hours on end, but it was seriously innocent between us, we really just liked each other's company after awhile 'cuz we were like little kids together (activities included setting up rubber band shooting ranges with cups, developing characters for a screenplay, playing "six degrees of Kevin Bacon, but with different actors"...) though we needed to be right next to each other and those were times we were loving with one other. It was quite sweet really. I had heard an old R&B/Soul song on the radio one night by Earth, Wind & Fire before he came into the hospital "Love's Holiday" and it had stayed with me. There's something so classy about those old soul songs which is so different from these newer crude jams, just that the singer had the couth to ask,

"Would you mind if I touch,
If I kiss, if I held you tight
In the morning light
Would you mind if I said how I felt tenderly tonight
Again cause

I never ever felt this way in my heart before
Love has a holiday in my heart tonight

Would you mind if I looked
Into your eyes till Im hypnotized
And I lose my pride
Would you mind if I make love to you till Im satisfied
Again cause

I never ever felt this way in my heart before
Love has a holiday in my heart tonight"

One time towards the beginning of his stay, he was ranting about the injustices inflicted upon him and I could see how angst he was and how misunderstood he felt, angry, turning more and more oh so angry, so I asked him for his notebook and wrote in it, "I've got only one question for you. Will YOU LET me love you?" because it was the question that I wanted him to know was important. I was willing to love him at that moment. He just needed to accept it. I told him I had heard the song and that I thought he needed to hear that because of how that topic of conversation was making him feel. Maybe he didn't know what I meant by that. I meant that I cared. I was listening to him. I know about dysfunctional family and toxic people, feeling like I'm surrounded by those who are mean and hateful for no good reason except that I exist, that I am who I am and maybe that I have the unfortunate circumstance of being in the same space or that we happen to run in the same circles. I was actually kinda surprised by my boldness. But I meant it. Because he needed me. Not just somebody. He needed me. And I needed him to need me.
Alex was always super protective of me and was very tempermental when other men talked to me, which I actually thought was kinda cute. Yeah, that could be construed as being overly possessive, he didn't want anyone else to have my attention, but honestly, I felt like that was kinda macho (He is a NYC-born Latin male, after all) and so different from C who's known me since 22 and who had met me hanging out with a room full of guys, so he was never possessive of me like that because he knew from jump that I was treated like one of the guys, that I was part of the crew. Alex always makes it known that I am a woman. And tonight we went to see, "I Am Legend" at the IMAX Loews Theater at Lincoln Center and he was stewing and tired after a sleepless night, cranky, because tix cost $16 apiece. But I still love him. I have yet to figure out what that means. I just got out of this relationship with C, but my feelings for Alex are genuinely deep. They go beyond just going on a date with someone whom I might or might not see again or even care about yet really. I've already developed feelings for him. I know he's a part of my life.
On New Year's Eve, while sitting waiting for the ball to drop and for that excruciatingly drag-on night to be over in the usual seats we shared at the back window of the Dining Room, the Charge Nurse came up to us and said we were too close together and that he was watching us (meanwhile Wendy and Edwin had made out already and were trying to work it so they could get it on in the Laundry Room, and that went totally unnoticed by the staff), as if we were twelve year olds caught naked in the dark of a basement or something, but seriously, nothing physical beyond a light braising of the arm or my leg pressing against his ever transpired between us. Later Wendy, like a sixth grader, asked me if I had gotten any action with Alex, trying to compare notes. I was kinda naive, I guess, compared to her, and didn't think it was a good idea to confuse matters by getting together with Alex in the hospital though I started to wonder what it would be like if we were alone together outside of the hospital setting. Wendy bet me that we would see each other outside of the hospital. What happened when we were on the outside, well, that would be different...And it is different now...What's up with my hospital experience sounding like a summer at camp or something?

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Progress

Two weeks have passed, and Alex is being released on Thursday. I, myself, have found employment, after having fielded all sorts of phone calls from concerned loved ones and also creditors, going through my two months of built-up mail, and hundreds of emails the first couple of days of being set free once again. School was a nightmare to deal with. After much counsel from several sources, especially my VESID counselor, I have decided to forgo the coming Spring semester and return to school in the Fall because I have incurred a balance, and this was not due to my grades (which were failing ones due to the absence from classes, assignments, tests and finals...). It is because when I switched my major in the fall and dropped the Chem classes, all my financial aid reneged anyway. So I decided it would be best to find employment and pay off my balance myself and not try to scrounge up the money somehow because I'd have to borrow it, and it was all too stressful to accomplish that in only a couple weeks. Luckily, I was able to get retroactive withdrawals from my classes so my GPA is back to a 3.4. As long as I pay back the balance before July, I'll be able to go back in the Fall. And my VESID counselor told me they would keep my case open.

My Mental Health Network is wonderful in New York. I really do like my therapist, psychiatrist and ICM Worker. I feel very lucky to have found such a solid support system. My therapist has made me question my motivations. Why did I think going to the streets was the right answer for me when it was my apartment in the first place? My first answer is that I've been running away since the age of six to the streets. It's kind of all I know. But I burst out crying in session because I know that's wrong and I never cry. My therapist says I punish myself and she thinks it goes back to how I was treated as a kid, that I feel I must punish myself. I realized I really do try to punish myself. At my job interview, one of my interviewers asked me, "What would a past employer say is your worst trait?" and I said, "I don't know what someone else might say about me..." She then said, "Well, what would YOU say is your worst trait?" and to this I answered, "I take on too much sometimes, and I try to take care of everyone and everything else, but when it comes to me, I don't really take care of myself as I should. I'm my last priority, but that's something I'm working on." Luckily the interviewer leaned over and kind of quietly said, "I'm the same way." The other thing I've told myself to work on too is asking people for help. I'm terrible at it.

Mom is always stressed out these days with her business, especially with lawsuits, and is constantly trying to get me to move back to Cali, not to mention she's been trying to matchmake me with a Korean dentist and also a Civil Engineer. But I am already imagining my life or non-life in Cali, how she would always use guilt to make me feel bad about myself and then would gradually take control of every aspect of my life. At least in New York, I am so far away from her I feel as though I can make my own decisions and live somewhat peaceably, see who I want to, do the things I like to do. I told her to give me a couple years to finish out my degree at Brooklyn College. When else am I going to get the opportunity to get free tuition, books and transpo paid for? And I really don't want to let go of my support network either. It's finally nearly perfect except that my psychiatrist doesn't approve of graff and is very vocal about his disapproval of it. Other than that, I really do like him.

Since leaving the hospital, I have been out on a couple of accidental dates with Dil. I didn't realize how he felt about me. He really did try to literally jump on me as soon as I let him know he was right about C moving in with me and that we were no longer seeing one another. Anyways, after an awkward confession that included an apology on his part for being so enthusiastic so soon after my breakup, I had to tell him I wasn't ready for anything serious. And his style is so different from C's. C's not a braggadocious kind of guy, but Dil blows himself up so much you would think he was part hot air balloon and that he would start floating off into the sky at any moment. I have to admit the attention was flattering especially because all through college I didn't date anyone for all four years, but I don't think we have that kind of chemistry. It's pretty amazing because I've consistently been seeing someone for the last couple of years, but no one that seriously until C. I consider him my 2nd and 3rd boyfriend and I know that's not so much for a 35 year old woman. It's just that I'm always surprised that someone wants to date ME. Yeah, it's a self-esteem issue. Alex told me he always gets involved with women who have the attitude, "If I can't have you, then no one else can..." I guess it could be worse. Actually, I am relieved to have my own place again and that I am free once again, no longer in a relationship with C. That sounds awful, but I am reminded that I am lucky by a conversation with my homegirl Lisa. She told me tales of her other best friend's materialism causing money management problems and all her baby's daddy drama (him constantly in and out of jail, him being seen around town with other females in HER car)...not to mention her sister has a crazed ex who lives in her home, has two kids with her on top of his other six kids, who puts his hands on her and now is stalking her like a psychotic, threatening her at her two jobs making her life miserable. So yeah, could be worse. I could have children with a crazed maniacal man who cheats on me and uses me for my money. My Mom and I have gotten closer. I think this is because she wants to share her hatred for men with me. She seems to think that all of a sudden I understand how she stayed in a twenty year loveless and abusive marriage. I think she's projecting a lot of how she feels about relationships onto my situation with C. This is because when I told her C was writing her an apology letter after I said it was the right thing to do, she got really angry, saying roughly that she didn't trust anything he said and that he wasn't sincere about being sorry.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

The trouble with hospitals.

I will say this about my many experiences with hospitals. There are varying degrees of mental sickness in people and in a psych ward, you can't choose your roommates or even who you're in a ward with. Sometimes it is so stressful just surviving in the ward or halfway house that recuperating and trying to stay positive seem nearly impossible.

I don't have enough money to pay for a private hospital stay and so I am at the mercy of the public hospital system. This time around, my first roommates were an older black woman who kept confusing me for the other woman in the room who really looked pregnant and smelled like feet, and so yelled at me to take showers constantly when I took showers daily. I was given another roommate who was a Columbian woman who used a cane because she claimed she was so fat that she was in a lot of pain, but she was only mildly overweight. I think she was a hypochondriac and just plain lazy and was seeking attention. She was totally superficial bragging on her daughter who is attending Hunter constantly. She left the hospital and then was replaced by this crazed girl named Beatriz who had just been released from jail, wearing the orange jail "Spitzers" (sneakers). She punched Tia (this black pregnant with twins girl who stole from everyone in the ward, took showers constantly) in the face her first day and then terrorized this other girl, Wendy, and a few days from her brawl with Tia, punched Wendy in the face too. Wendy was a drama queen though, and cried the whole night. Beatriz was smoking in the room, so I was given permission to leave the room and switch to Tia's and Olga's room (Olga was a 63 year old woman who talked all the time). Wendy was 26 and Bolivian and complained about her abusive mother and proceeded to tell everyone how she cheated on her husband with a guy just for sex, but was angered with her husband because he was actually having a relationship with a girl he worked with as a waiter. She and her husband were living with her Mom and they both attended City College. Her husband asked her for a divorce and took back her ring during her stay. And then she got together with Edwin. Anyways, she asked me to get involved and to write a letter to the Supervising Nurse in the ward to keep her in the ward because they were trying to move her instead of moving Beatriz after a second altercation where she got slapped in the face. This is after my incident with Beatriz post-moving-rooms. In the Activity Room, I was changing stations on the radio and had earlier been told to ignore Beatriz by the Charge Nurse and so I was ignoring her, but this aggravated her and she didn't want me to change the station and started yelling at me, then threw her sandwich at me and dumped her cup of apple juice over my head. I was calm and was told to stay away from her and to just go and take a shower and wash my clothes. Later, after my shower, I saw her in the hallway, and told her, "Don't you dare throw anything else at me...I'm warning you..." She threw her cup of ice at me this time and that's when I threw my fists up and told her to "Come on then..." She swung at me a few times, but I managed to hit her in the side a few times too...I wasn't afraid of her. And I wasn't mad at her. I knew she was sick. And I didn't have a grudge against her. But Wendy did. And so did Edwin. Edwin was this 41 year old guy from Queens, an early 80's graff artist/DJ (his tag back then was On One and he was down with PCKid and Kane1...). He later worked for the airlines, was also an interior designer, and he was stalked by Beatriz. I thought he got too involved in peoples' business, namely Wendy's, trying so hard to defend her from all the numerous injustices she felt were inflicted upon her in the hospital by staff and by other patients, whining constantly, talking about her "rack" thinking all men were intent on focusing on it. A staff member pulled me aside after the fight and told me that I should stay away from fighting with Beatriz because she was HIV+ and also had Hepatitis C. Anyways, I helped write the letter to the Supervising Nurse and also wrote one to the Hospital Administrator which Mom delivered personally. Beatriz was moved instead of Wendy. The letter I had written to the Administrator also mentioned the other problems I had with a staff member who forcibly put her hands on me when confiscating a magazine another staff member had given me to read. She also yelled at me when I was doing my laundry saying that I was going to break the machine and that I would be on meds the rest of my life. She was supposedly a Peer Counselor, but I wasn't so sure that she was my peer. She bragged on getting stabbed hundreds of times, being on drugs, being molested as a kid, raped as an adult, shot at, claiming that she ruled the hallways. Anyways, I didn't think that was very peer-like. Then Tia was stealing all my stuff, going through my drawers, leaving food everywhere in the room, leaving sheets and gowns behind too, and keeping me up at all hours of the night slamming doors and switching on the lights, which would then wake Olga who would sit up and start talking constantly and then hope for sleep was all over. And I gave her the clothes the social worker had given me when Mom brought me a gym bag of clothes. She left them soaking wet in the bathroom when they got dirty instead of just laundering them and tried to steal more stuff from me. I ended up having to give back my bag to Mom and just take one extra change of clothes which I left at the Nurse's Station. I didn't need much else in the hospital. Anyways, that's a lot of drama to deal with. But the worst part about it is that I had to deal with someone like Wendy. See, Wendy is a City College student with a big head. She thought she was really amazing because she is a Bio-Engineering major. She belittled my quest for my BS in Anthro/Archaeology saying that doesn't make any money and when I told her my first degree was in Art, forget about it...She then said, "I got into Cooper Union, but decided I couldn't make any money with art. Why don't you try Geology? That's the easiest science." She also said, "Your Mom's paying for everything anyway." And I looked at her and said "What? I left home when I was 18 and my Mom only started to help me after school and then again after my last hospitalization, I'm 35 now...you don't know me..." She hadn't even left home yet at 26 and it was taking her 8 years to get her degree. All she was concerned with was material and what she was wearing telling everyone at the breakfast table that I was trying to lose weight just because I made a routine of waking up at 6 to exercise with Gilad on FitTV every morning. Anyways, that's the kind of bullsh*t you have to put up with when you go to the hospital, not to mention I've spent every holiday since Thanksgiving in the hospital. New Year's the first person I hugged was Alex when the ball dropped. Alex is an interesting guy with green eyes. Dominican, he's bilingual Spanish and ANGRY at the loss of his career. He was once a stockbroker at BearStearns and hasn't been so high-functioning since that time period and is extremely bitter about it blaming most of it on the bureaucracy of the mental health system and also his Mom. He went to Tufts and has spent some time in Danville, CA, so we had a lot in common as far as places we've been. Anyways, he is still there and is desperately trying to find a place to get released to. I had much sympathy for him because of my South Beach Hospital experience, but I realize he has to do it on his own, especially after reading his blog.