Monday, June 30, 2003

What to do, what to do.

Sigh. I am feeling something right now and I have absolutely no idea what it is.

I know that more often than not it is men who don’t know how to identify what they are feeling. However, for the majority of my life I didn’t allow myself / wasn’t allowed to “feel.” Now, when I am confronted with something I don’t understand I tend to revert back to my former habits. So, here I am, amidst confusion, and not having the first clue as to how to muddle through the surprising contents of Pandora’s box that I’ve opened.

Thursday, June 19, 2003

Impulse Actions




Say it slowly, feel how your lips come in just a bit when you begin the word but push out a rush of air when ending it. I suppose it is not considered an example of onomatopoeia in the most traditional sense but consider its sound in relation to an impulsive action. Princeton University defines impulse several different ways: one, the electrical discharge that travels along a nerve fiber; two, an instinctive motive; three, a sudden desire; synonym: urge.

Think about that rush of air from your lips when you get to the second syllable, pulse, your tongue hits the roof of your mouth and the air pushes itself out ending with a slight hiss. Aren’t impulsive actions most often an urge, a rush? Other than fight or flight, does that which results from impulse ever really bring anything good?

When does admiration become lust; when do lingering thoughts of temptation become sin? At what point does an action, which results from some forethought become pre-meditated as opposed to impulsive? Just how close can you get to that fire without being burned? How far can you push the line before you actually cross it? Can an action resulting from forethought be anything but pre-meditated?

Why is life so black-and-white for some and so nebulous for others?

Here’s the scenario: you know you have a weakness in a certain area, say, alcohol. You go to a bar, or a party, with friends, and surround yourself with others who are consuming martinis and margaritas. You smile as if you have not a care in the world, while drinking your seltzer but in the back of your mind you’re thinking how good that tequila would taste. You fight your desire for a drink all night long and having seemingly won, you pat yourself on the back with a little pride at your self-control. However, at the last minute, as you’re walking out the door, you notice someone else’s discarded margarita, grab it, lap your tongue around the salt, suck on the lime and feel the burn of tequila in your belly. What a rush, how sweet the forbidden fruit tastes.

Then comes the reality, the gravity of the situation, in essence—the guilt. While alcohol poses no problem for me I can identify with a four-letter word. DIET. I’ve been on many of them. I know the gnawing hunger inside when you’ve only eaten lettuce and some chicken and you’re salivating over a Krispy Kream donut. I know the feeling of desire over chips and salsa or denying yourself tortillas for your fajitas. But, the thing is, you cannot hide inside forever. At one point or another you must merge with the rest of the world and face your temptations head-on.

So, if you purposefully put yourself into a tempting situation can your possibly inevitable fall be considered on an impulse? Who is to blame in such an incident? I suppose, for the sake of self-preservation, we all seek to “pass the buck.” It is usually in our own best interests to appear blameless.

I’m just trying to figure out how it all began and where it’s going to end.

Whole body tingling,
down low, hot.
Feel like I'm falling
so fast.
I don't want to stop.
Breath is shallow;
eyes are closed.
I’m ready to crawl
into your upside down world.

You know my secret sin,
all my dark desires.
Save, just one word,
could be my life upon the pyre.

Why do we risk
all we know?
We should not
for a thrill;
we should not.
For a fuck
we will press our luck.

Copyright 2003 Perpetual Platitudes.

Friday, June 13, 2003

Jumping Jack Flash O' Pain

I started out energized and excited; I was anticipating a little bit of that burn and looking forward to getitng all hot and sweaty. I put on my just-out-of-the-box New Balance tennis shoes, my new white-as-white-can-be socks, shorts, t-shirt, pulled my hair up in a pony tail and walked proudly out the door and to my car. I've been rather proud of myself lately because for the first time in my life I am sticking to an excrcise program. I held my head up high as I got out of my car and walked up to the door. I pushed it open, signed in, dropped off my purse and began immediately to warm-up. About five minutes into my routine I started doing Jumping Jacks on the little spring block. About 15 seconds into my Jumping Jacks my left foot came down on the edge of the board and I twisted my ankle and went down on my knee.

Let me just tell you, at that point I was definitely feeling the burn. The last time I hurt this knee was when I was snow-skiing in Colorado in the spring of 1990. I remember that pain clearly and experienced it all over again. Hubby came to pick me up and drove me to the emergency room. Four hours later I lef the ER with my leg in an immobilizer from ankle to mid-thigh, crutches and prescriptions for pain meds. I spent all of Thursday quite doped up and feeling no pain. Today I am back at work and feeling a lot of pain. I have my leg propped up on a box under my cube but it's not helping much. I have had to hobble all around the office today as this place is so huge its like walking a mile just to get to the ladie's room. I'm looking forward to 5 pm so I can get back on my pain medication. I should have taken today off as well but I have no paid-leave time left.

I have learned one thing in this little saga.... I do not like Jumping Jacks.

Wednesday, June 04, 2003

An Almost Annoying Amount of Knowledge

My office environment (at least my immediate department) oftentimes has an atmosphere not unlike that of Ally McBeal. We all have quite distinct personalities, view on life, and idiosyncrasies. Since we live in Cube World we are all subject to listening, not always willingly, to others conversations and goings on. At any given time you might overhear snippets of someone whistling Bach, someone mumbling curses and profanities that could make a sailor blush, someone running laps around the cubes to “get back into the groove,” someone complaining loudly about their computer, and someone turning every word, phrase and or thought into a joke about flatulence or sex.

Well, today as we were planning a little soiree involving alcohol and Karaoke for a co-worker who announced his resignation the usual banter was being bandied back and forth. Someone said something about “oh, you know... that guy and the cosmonauts” to which I replied, “You must mean Jason and the Argonauts of Greek mythology.”

It became quiet and about 5 seconds later another co-worker says “You know, (insert my name here) You have an almost annoying amount of knowledge.”

I don’t think he meant it as a compliment but am choosing to take it as such.