Today I say to my fortune cookie

.

Today my fortune cookie

wisely says,

"Accept something

that you cannot change,

and you will

feel better."

Today I say to my 

fortune cookie,

"Bite me."

.

One of those days

.

when you don't even realize 

you've been wearing 

an article of clothing 

inside out 

until 4:30 pm.

.

The joy of moving cubicles

Oh, the joy of moving cubicles!  Packing things up, sorting through things, rediscovering things, throwing things away, recycling things, putting things in new places where this time, for sure, you are going to remember where they are really.  Arranging things so that from the point of view of people passing by, you look clean and organized (as long as you don't leave the overhead bin with all your plushies open).  There's something refreshing about doing this (and not just because I am leaving behind my old place next to the Noisy Neighbor.

Do you feel this sense of shedding old skin and donning new when you move desks/offices/cubicles?

Christmas lights from above

I don't remember the last time I flew at night just before Christmas.  I think I would remember the lights.  Instead of just the usual narrow range of city light colors that mostly wash out to a slightly yellow pale, the Christmas lights shine forth in slightly anarchic joy.  Random colors, random shapes not arranged to be seen from above: they are beautiful, and I love them and the chance I had to see them when the night flights were as cheap as the usually cheapest 5 AM flights I've taken the last several years on the way to see my family over Christmas.

Something I heard late one night

I didn't actually see anything.  I just heard it:  the crunching squeal of tires skidding on ice over and over for half a minute in the parking lot, the skid, the crash of a significant impact between two cars, the sound of something glass shattering, the brief silence, more glass falling, the engine gunning, more skidding, and a fishtailing journey out of the icy parking lot and away down the street at something significantly over the speed limit.  Why?

I thought about calling the police.  I didn't because, well, what can they do when you report hearing a crime?  I wondered if I should tell the apartment manager in case the poor person whose parked car got smashed into needed someone to back up their claim to the insurance company that they were a victim and not responsible for the damages.  But I didn't SEE it, and the insurance company would still have to pay for it unless the criminal was caught, which would not happen based on my testimony.

In the end, I said nothing and told no one and was very glad I pay extra to have a garage stall to park in at night.  I do that because I can't dig my car out of the snow and/or ice, but apparently it's also handy against random acts of pointless, stupid vehicular vandalism.  Yes, Mom, my insurance rates did go down when I moved here.  I can't really imagine why . . .

Why I hate New Year's Resolutions

I will stop putting it off.
I will call OWCP.
I will not let it ruin my day.

I will keep calling until they approve the new codes.
I will keep calling until they approve the physical therapy.
I will shoehorn the physical therapy in.

I will get control over the pain.
I will get a good nights' sleep every night.
I will force pain-addled body to reset itself.

I will watch pigs fly.
I will not give up.
I mustn't run away.

I suddenly remember why
I hate New Year's Resolutions.

To the ones who complain there is no winter yet

.
To the ones who complain there is no winter yet

To the ones who complain
there is no winter yet
I say

appreciate the blessings
of safer roads and walking
without your hood on
for as long as you can

the temperatures
and snow
will fall

different blessings will come
eventually
soon
.

between us

.

between us

The next time we meet, there will be
a dead baby between us, and I will not
know what to say, and I will not want
to make eye contact because I will not
want to cry all over you because things
will be sad enough for you and your
dead baby without my tears.

.

the last snow of the year

.
the last snow of the year

the snow tonight is lumpy
like biscuit dough ingredients
before they are sifted completely

tiny clumps collecting on the cars,
roofs, and pond   chunks off-white
past the street lights 

still falling
.

What we learned visiting family this Christmas

.

• We like our house cold.
• We should not walk on the treadmill in our winter boots.
• The apple corer we received for Christmas will definitely be sharp enough to cut apple flesh, too.
• We should not walk on a treadmill in bare feet.
• We love to stay in the warm cave of blankets in a cold house even if we are not sleeping.
• We are still susceptible to developing contact allergic reactions to adhesives on bandages.
• Taxi drivers are not all honest people, and we should just take the bus, no matter how much longer it takes to get home.
• We should not limp.
• Family can be nice in small doses.

.

radio station woes (not related to Christmas music)

So, are you really listening to a specific radio station simply because they clearly give the song title and artist for every song as all radio stations should?
Well, I'm also doing it because they don't play songs I actively hate, and they have a playlist that doesn't repeat every 2.5 hours.

A ringing endorsement if I ever heard one.
Also, they don't have 3 DJs in a row who make me crazy.

3, wow.  So that's, what most of the day?
Midday, early evening, and late evening.  People who make me crazy from 9 AM - midnight.
Yikes.
Also, I get reception for them wherever I go.

And that other station where you don't strongly dislike the DJs doesn't?
It has an effective range of 20 miles if there's no wind.  On the other side of the metro area from where I live.  Alas.

Ah.  What happened to that early evening DJ you liked? 
I have no idea.  He just disappeared one day and was replaced by another tasteless, vapid, milquetoast, nice, brainlessly middle class American value endorsing Dad who just kind of makes me want to vomit.

Whoa.  Harsh.
I know.  I feel bad that he irks me so much.  After the last DJ, he feels like a 100% false construct.

You weren't a huge fan of the last DJ at first. 
You're right.  I eventually figured out why: he challenged me.  He made me uncomfortable.  He made me think.  Jesus was real to him, a real Savior who saved him from a shattered life of substance abuse, addiction, and self-destruction.  He was so grateful to that God, so willing to talk about the struggle, so full of compassion and encouragement for people who most of us just want to ignore.  He was amazing.

I can see how Mr. Nice Guy would be a bit bland after that.
Yeah.  Boy Scouts, sports teams, the boat on the lake and the cabin, consumerism, blind assumptions that everyone is the same socio-economic class as you and goes to the same suburban church.  It feels so shallow and superficial.  I'm sure this new guy is sincere, but I can't stand listening to what I perceive as his smarminess for another second.

Why are you so worked up about this?
I don't know.  Maybe it's partly because I'm assuming they fired the other guy for being too edgy and real.  That always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I'm also mad at myself for thinking that.  The guy had a lot of medical problems; chances are he had to retire.

You just wish they'd told you or something.
But they don't owe it to me or anything.  I'm just being a jerk.  That makes me feel guilty.  So I punish myself with 80s hair bands, 90s British rock, and current pop country music.  A strange sort of self-destruction.

Your specialty.
Sigh.

on a cold winter's night

.
on a cold winter's night

outside my window
a mourning dove quietly
sings itself to sleep
.

"light snow mist"

.
"light snow mist"

I love the way
the world looks
blue on a winter
day clouded over
with an even canvas
of blue-gray that makes
the snow fall faintly blue
into the bluer shadows
on the light blue
piles of snow
already
fallen.
.

the sound ice makes

.
the sound ice makes

for Ann

if I could hear
the sound ice makes
when it is being born
I think it would sound
like wind chimes
.

Orion laughing

.

Orion lounges

on the horizon laughing 

at my (mis)fortune

*

"If it seems 

fates are against 

you today, they 

probably are."

- my fortune cookie

.

wind chimes in winter

.

sometimes the sound

of wind chimes

in winter

almost breaks 

my heart

.

snow in autumn

.
The snows today
are beautiful
from the first light sifted flour
without wind to the now
medium flakes falling
through pockets of calm
between being whipped
by the wind into swirls
sudden direction changes
making me dizzy.

This too shall pass
it won't stick because
it's still November
and tomorrow will be
warmer.  But you still
have to clean off
your car today.
.

Eating the animal cracker

Last week I was a tad self-destructive.  Not enough water, a lot of rage, not enough time to write, too much frustration and helplessness, avoiding going to bed because I know I won't sleep:  All these things add up to some increasingly poor decisions when combined with increasing pain and decreasing sleep.  How could they not?

I don't want to spiral down like I do sometimes.  I don't want to get stupid at work and say dumb things because my filters crumble at a certain point of sleeplessness.  What I don't want to do, I do.  Alas.

On my birthday, I got a letter from OWCP informing me that they received the letter I sent at the end of July about my address change, and they're sending my file to some coding person or something for review even though the last time I called, the claims examiner clearly indicated that she was the one who accepted or rejected new codes.  All I had to do was call and talk to my claims examiner's supervisor to get any kind of response after the messages and talking to other people didn't work.  I'm so tired of this. 

Their letter crossed mine on the way.  Mine was longer, more specific, and a great deal more emotionally involved. 

What do they care if it takes
over three months to acknowledge
and process an address change? 
What do they care if my doctors
have been trying to add codes
and get bills paid since February,
so I can get treated and maybe
decrease the pain a little?  It's not
their bodies that feel the pain
or their hearts that get smashed around
by inconsistency, misinformation, threats,
and delays.  They don't lay awake at night
or have to try not to cry at work when pain
spikes hit.  They don't have to pay off
my school loans for the next thirty years,
the ones I took on to educate myself enough
to get a good  job even as a cripple,
something their website claims
is their responsibility but that they refuse
to do in practice.  What do they care?

I don't want to be bitter.  But at times like these, I can't seem to help it. 
Another year older,
another year of pain,
no better at coping
but somehow still sane. 
Maybe that's all we can dream of.  Anything else is just icing on the animal cracker.

the impermanence of things

 .
three months after the accident
the bruise beneath my fingernail
looks like a Chinese brush painting
made with blood

a tree on a hilltop
overlooking the sunset
all of it slowly floating away
complete with calligraphed characters
in the upper right hand corner

emphasizing the impermanence of things
.

Looking forward to shivering

.
wondering
how cold it has to be
outside before I can stop
turning on my AC at night

feeling very privileged
to be wondering
this in the first place
.