barbtries a blog
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
THE FIVE STAIRSTEPS lyrics - Ooh Child
bekah comforted me with a song again today. here's what happened:
it was hell week at work, and that was just this one day.
i'm teetering on the edge of walking out so many times, and
i don't for essentially the same reason my dick of a boss
won't fire me: because of unemployment. i don't get it if
i quit and i do if he lets me go. i worked all day sucking
up tears i was so pissed. when i finally got off i had a
minute to myself in my room, and then i did cry, a little.
the thing is this bastard is not worth the stress he abuses
out of me. on the other hand i need a job and i like mine,
when he's not around. but he's around too fucking much and
he pays me next to nothing and it's not worth this anger
and putting up with his belittlement. which he prefers to
do with an audience, and i apparently am THE designated
shit eater of the office.
eh. anyway. MOFO. he will not goad me into quitting though
i may feel like it a lot; screw him. so i take out my anger
by snapping back at him and arriving later, later, later,
to work, what i figure is my passive aggressive response
to his undeserved punishment and unprecedented chintziness.
so. i had to get my blood pressure medication, rory and i
were hungry, i am about out of money and two more days
til payday. i got my pills and $10 worth of gas [which
didn't even bring it up to half a tank], and as i was
crossing rosecrans to go to carl's jr. for our dinner,
i thought, "it would be nice if bekah would play me a
song right about now."
i had $7 in my pocket and almost nothing left in the bank
so my plan was to split up the dinner bill between the cash
and the atm. the first sign that things were looking up was
that i was able to pay for all of it with my atm, which means
i can get cigarettes tomorrow and maybe even a snack...so
that was cool.
as soon as i got in the car i heard the DJ on my oldies
station asking a caller her name: Barbara. from Redondo
Beach, and her request? One of the songs i played at
bekah's 22nd birthday memorial, "Ooh Child."
ooh, child...
Posted by Hello
I said, Thank you baby, and sang along loudly most of the way home. amen
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Thursday, April 21, 2005
book
okay, michele.
i have decided. one chapter per day, i will clean it up, give it its own file name, print it, and put it into the box.
you say you want a resolution well you know, i find them pretty hard. say you got the solution, well you know...
fuck! late to work again
Monday, April 18, 2005
Mermaid Healing: Goodbye
kaveri wrote, I want to leave this all for a while....
i responded,
kaveri, i hope you don't shut down your blog! i imagine that as you keep on writing there will be times you will want to share - i'll want to read. some blogs are updated less frequently than daily...that's ok. lately, myself, i've only been reading. or painting i mean. anyhow not writing, which is almost scary, or would be, if i hadn't over the course of damn near 50 years experienced so many phases, fallow and fertile, flowing and blocked, growing or shrinking...but the writing always came back, eventually even writing i wanted to share with others. for everything there is a season and all that. i will miss your blog, your spirit and passion and goodness, too much, so well, leave the door open, okay? ok. you can self refer yourself right back into the public eye, and you're having a baby! your wisdom is so beyond the little ego hiccups. love
and forgot to add, the feeling addicted to the blog, especially to the comments, i think is quite common. it seems to me that i have read more than a couple of these good-bye notes and many of them expressed the same basic reason. it's like you start a blog so the rest of the world can learn your wisdom from your own pen [or enjoy your great wit, join your politics, convert to your religion, know you somehow], and then for a time it's like its own end, when you see the counter growing, when you say something important and other people stop, sign, let you know they hear you...it's heady, right? i mean i personally have never had a column in a newspaper, or a talk show; i am a writer for all of my life and the books remain unpublished thus far. i had never heard of blogging - when i was introduced to one blog back in april 2002, i dove right in knowing jackshit about what i was doing. i mean like the same night. lol
collage of some more faces
Posted by Hello
VALIDATION. there is validation from the outside. risk a little, gain a lot of VALIDATION. there really are people out there who know what's going on for real, who care. there are minds that are open, approaching openly, sans agenda, there are poets who appreciate and share their gifts openly - this is the reason for the internet. i think. when i first got online i was on aol and the first thing i did just about was find the writing spots, including a chat room called "poets place," where the visitors did virtual readings of their poems which were then commented on by the others in the room. it was the most validating experience since college for me. all my life i've been scribbling, poetry rules me, and no one got it, i was just weird. when i got online i wasn't weird anymore. that was really a wonderful thing to learn, that i wasn't so weird after all.
i think i won't be saying good-bye; if anything [meaning if i don't keep on blogging til i die], , i'll just kinda fade away leaving only the pages behind. i've had some blog buddies who did that as well. the need to post something "important" worthy of feedback is not intense as it was when i began this blog, but i still like to share links that i hope others will check out, and still offer my opinion sometimes heartfelt. i still grieve and wish to make sure this world never forgets that there was a beautiful young woman named Bekah, who died unjustly and prematurely, and whose gifts still grace the planet.
and, oh, yeah, still crave comments...:)
Monday, April 11, 2005
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Submarine FORCEnet Officer Receives Copernicus Award
Submarine FORCEnet Officer Receives Copernicus Award
Friday, April 08, 2005
Sonnet III
it's old, and i've never been satisfied with the concluding couplet. this painting and this poem remind me of michele.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Junior Sailor Association Volunteers to Help Chesapeake Little League
By Journalist Seaman Andy Zask, Commander, Submarine Force, U.S. Atlantic Fleet Public Affairsa "command" message - not exactly the hard hitting kinda news i think he would prefer, or the knee slapping satire he seems to have a gift for...but his job nonetheless and one he performs admirably, ya?
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
orders
Hi mom, time for an e-mail. I spoke to my detailer today, and I have orders. I have good news and bad news. Bad news first: I'm going to a ship. Good news: it's stationed in San Diego.
It's the USS Pearl Harbor (LSD 52). I'll be on independant duty, meaning that I'll be the only journalist on board. That could be a good thing or a bad thing. I'll be heading there in January. Odds are, I'll drive cross country from here in December, spend a month in LA and then drive down to San Diego. Hopefully my car won't break down.
I'm pretty happy about this. I knew I was going to a ship, and I'm just glad that it's not a carrier. Instead of a 3,000-6,000 man crew, I'll have 400-900. Should make living conditions a bit better.
Now, before you get all excited thinking that I'll be only two hours away and can come visit any old time, remember that I have no idea what the ship's deployment schedule is like. It's entirely possible that I could spend three years on that ship and only spend 180 days in port. It's also entirely possible that I could spend those 180 days on duty.
But, I'll find out more about that in the months to come. For now, I have an early day today (I get off at noon) and I'm working on doing as little as possible in the next two and a half hours. I've spent the last two weeks skating, and the ice I'm on is growing thinner and thinner. But that's fine. I've only got eight more months in this state. Then I can turn my back on the submarine force forever.
Anyway, should I find it strange that the ship I'm going to shares the name with the port where my grandfather came under attack? I hope not.
Love you,
Andy
laughing
Posted by Hello
I had a daughter, for 21 years. She was beautiful vital intelligent. She worked she attended school. She anticipated a career in the world of fashion, she partied, quite a bit, she talked, about things that matter, or seem to matter. She laughed, a lot, making a noise that cannot be replicated or described to any degree of accuracy.
The absence of her laugh is black silence, a drape hung between life and death, now and never, ever, or forever; it is a weight hung heavily upon the "ALL" that comprises the balance of this life to and for her mother.
If I could bottle Bekah's laugh. If I could just reCALL it enough to enjoy it for another brief moment. I do recall her face on July 4, 2001 - the last time we celebrated her birthday together, two days before her last birthday, 15 days before her death. Her face slack, given to the laughter, her body weak with laughter...I said, "Bekah, that laugh!"
"I know," she said, "But I can't help it."
A squeak, a squeal, a hyperventilation, horsey, no snorts, she wasn't a pig, no, I give up. Remember the face and how she submitted to the laughing. We enjoyed ourselves so much, so much.
Love you Bekah, forever amen
Mom
XXX OOO
Sunday, April 03, 2005
12/30/95 – 6:58 a.m.
john, my oldest son
Posted by Hello
Twenty years ago at just this time they finally wheeled my shaven ass into a cold delivery room – I was holding my knees and trying to push.
They said turn on your side and they stuck a needle in my back. Then they put my legs up into stirrups; paralysis set in.
I laid spread-eagled staring fascinated into a round overhead mirror while the nurse leaned into me with both her hands and all her strength – they had numbed me completely from the waste down and I was unable to do any more.
A head came out, and two flailing arms; the first breath went in and came out a lusty yell. I gasped and tears came to my eyes; “My baby!” I said. Then the rest of the long lean body of my first-born son.
The doctor held him by his toes and said, “It’s a boy!”
After the placenta was delivered they put down my legs – for hours, though, I felt them still hanging up in the stirrups. More than once I reached down and jabbed my nerveless thighs because the sensation that they were hanging up in stirrups was so strong.
That was Johnny – 20 years old TODAY. The age I was when he was born….
They laid him next to me; he had round eyes you could almost tell would be dark. He had a worry crease pasted on his forehead: skin that would soon flake off and was a result of his being more than two weeks past due. Almost like he shared my fear that he would NEVER come out!
In a flash it’s twenty years already – an odyssey begun that cold morning and not nearly over yet. A love huge and endless that had waited to hear that first great cry and commenced to rush from that day to this, and beyond.
My boy, my baby boy JOHN
face28
Posted by Hello
i haven't been writing. been reading, some, that's good, and so i was going through my old diary today and i liked this memory...it amazes me beyond description to note this is almost ten years old. tonight, the son says he might be in love again. he is happy, tonight. that's good news to his mother.
Who am i, what am i
A picture's worth
moon phases |
I stand on the sand, and I'm rocking
grief to sleep in my arms.
issues
Poetry roll
Comments by: YACCS