Word Designer

I forget sometimes that the world is bigger than me.
Bigger than this moment I am living in.
Just need to let go and let things be.
Let the world happen to me.

It had been pouring for hours. Everyone carried a wet umbrella or was soaked.  They clung together pushing ahead to get into the car first, even before the train pulled up.  A mental “me-first” game.

A usual wednesday.

Not much room to sit. But people sat anyway. Squeezed their way in between the overweights and relieved by the underweights and the scrawny. I stood. I felt too gross to sit.  Pants were wet. And sitting would lead to umbrellas dripping down my leg.

Stops passed by.  I looked at the people around me.  Nothing new. Wet people.

42nd street, grand central.  Quick movement below me. I looked down.  I saw an arm moving. An arm dropped a paper on a lap. On top of a black backpack.
I peaked as inconspiciously as possible.  She closed her dark skinned hand over the paper.  Surprised, then back to stoic. Back to the world of ipod.  But I could see the curiousity and confusion.  Started inching open her pack’s zipper to put away the paper for later.  But so still.

She picks up her hand, about to pick up the paper and twirls her long black curly hair, soft from gel and rain mix. Then puts it backdown.  I thought I wouldn’t find out.

But then she picked up it.  The yellow thick paper. I could see blue inside.  She opened it. She frowned.  And I peaked, my eyes down…

Arcadian smithsonian, elevator machine of transportation, buckle seats, malignant children, carcass, ameliorate.

I started this post a few months ago.  Was I stoned?

No, I think it was for this counter that notes the difficulty of words.  I am just going to share it because it makes no sense, and this is the way my mind works.

I am missing half a toenail. Is that normal? It may be ignorable in general but my toenails are painted red. And my middle finger toe looks very crooked. It’s so blatant.

It was a bad evening. It rained and thundered for the last three hours. The streets were slick, people were damp and grouchy.  I was damp and grouchy myself, and pretty down.

I walked home from the subway, hands full of bags and a soaking wet umbrella.  My pants wet from it, as it stopped raining finally.  Depressing thoughts of work and general life were weighing on my head and I couldn’t find a smile anywhere within me.

I crossed the street to my side, comtemplating what I could buy to eat, due to my lack of food at home, grumpy because I could see nothing easy around.

And then I saw it.  A fruit cart. A man in the dark, in the rain setup a fruit stand on the side of the street.  Four apples for a dollar! Four plums for a dollar! I could eat something good tonight!

“How often are you here?”  I asked as I paid 6 dollars for a weeks worth of fruit.
“Every night from now until you leave for work.”

“Long night.”

“Eh.  Miss, taste a cherry. Go on, take one. Taste. See how juicy? Maybe next time you buy.”

And man was that cherry good.  Nothing like a pushy old man with cherries to cheer you up.

I don’t know what happened.

I really really thought it was gone. And now its back.

Lingering and wondering.

Is it for me?

I didn’t think I wanted it anymore.

But a surprise. Now do I?

I think I do.

I feel it. My heart. My heart feels it.

What am I going to do?

I decided what I would like to be when I grow up.  Someone important asked a similar question to me last night and I was like “oh, a travel writer.” And he was like - “Well then do it.” And boy did I resist… but I woke up this morning with a plan.  I am going to stop the resistance and let you, the internet world aware of my plan.

I am not going to quit my day job. My day job will serve as my living cost, food and entertainment AND travel cushion.  Next - I am going to network.  Rather than use my friend’s friends to get JOBS (at least for now), I will keep them as contacts. And I will have them help me make contacts.  And I will find other ways to network.  Not asking for anything yet.  Just to build a base.

Then I will keep writing travel stuff on my own, and once I write something worthy of being show somewhere, I will discuss with this network publication with them - or even someone in general.

So my plan really is not a plan, but a path. One I don’t really know what will happen while traveling it, but I guess I can’t know.   But now I know what I want at the end of my path.  Where the rainbow is supposed to be.  And I am happy about it.

I am house sitting now and it feels so good to sit on someone elses couch eating my usual oatmeal, listen to my new favorite music and enjoy the quiet.  Feet up and no one is asking me questions.  No one wants to know if I am going to be home for dinner tonight. No one needs to know how I am this morning.  It’s just me. It’s kind of nice to be alone.  Alone in a place when their are at least 100 people in the 100 feet radius.

I can’t say I am fantastically happy, but I am contented right now.  Its hard to be happy with just yourself if you want more. But what if you allow yourself not to want more? Block it out. Then its easy to just let it go.  And  then you don’t need anything else.

You know, cold weather and I, we don’t get along.

See, when I asked mother nature originally to make it colder for a little bit so I could wear my new jacket (I love it, its green!), I meant cold - 25-30 degrees cold. I never ever approved of 5. Or even 10. This was not in the contract. And I asked for a little bit of snow; it looks so pretty. I am a little worried about that. Will she blow it out of proportion? A decent feet or two would be fine. But seven feet?  Or do you think she is going to make it snow and then turn the air tempurature down so everyone slides on frozen ground to work, and then make it ice rain (that originally read “make it ice cream”) so you have to walk on top of ice to get to work? And then you walk into ice puddles that break and your socks get soaked? And you have wet feet for the day? Or, will she just make it really warm the next day, so it gets slushy and dirty and disgusting and we cannot walk around admiring the beautiful white colored trees and power covered lawns? Baa.  She probably will do that.

Maybe I should have been clear.  Min levels - 20 degrees, no ice rain, 3 feet of snow at once.  Close the roads 2 days and then it melts and rains overnight to remove it all like it never happened. And then 24 degrees until March 24th and then spring.  For the entire spring. And then we will discuss our summer contract. Ok? I am done.  Thank you.
I think I just prefer it when the temperature is more agreeable and warm.  I like agreeable. Don’t you? But I do like my new jacket. Oh to be so torn at a young age!

**This post did not take the greenhouse effect and global warming into consideration. It was meant to be solely a musing of my own nature.  I’d prefer average winters and consistent weather in general, and do do what I can to preserve the environment.  I am not an ice cap melter.  I am pro polar bears (that are far far away).

This was the first word out of my mouth this morning. I can’t explain why. I know it resembles one of the parts of the body, somewhere. But that’s ok. Its not really important. The important thing is what I want to talk about. I want to tell you about Endoscopies!

Its a fun exam where they put a tube down your throat with a camera and they look at your upper digestive tract. But it doesn’t matter what they’re doing really because you are completely out in some other world.

So my experience yesterday was the other world. But first, of course, I had to wait for it. in suspense for an hour extra because I came early. It is my own fault as I should know by now; should know to ignore my parents, never to be more than 5-10 minutes early to an appointment with a doctor. The chances of them running late are like 96%, no?

But that doesn’t matter too much. 1 hour later, after waiting in a waiting room with my parents, and the loudest heat ever (radiator heat can be really very loud), I went to a room. In this room I was given a dressing down and was told to wait there.  So I waited.
And wait. Then another door opened up on the other side of the room. I peaked in and it was another world!  Truman show or matrixish - lots of cameras and tvs and other serious equipment. But it was the endoscopy room. A nurse led me to a hospital cot and I got to wait. And wait a little longer.
The doctor eventually came in and strapped me up to give me an IV. He really put a strap on me. I don’t know why. I guess so I wouldn’t roll away? He took my glasses so everything started to get foggy already and told me “your going to be under sedation now” and I was like “sedation?”
The room and its movements became flowy. The light traveled in clumps. The doc said that he would keep saying my name once in a while and I said ok. But he never said my name. And I tried to relax. And someone put something in my nose and the room got dim. And then I opened my eyes. But it was quiet now.  And I was in a different dim room. I couldn’t lift my head. So I closed my eyes again. And napped in the heaviest, sweetest nap.

A nurse came in and asked me something. I don’t think I answered too coherently. But she offered me something to drink. Which is when I realized the state of my throat.  The Sahara? I was thirstier than a deserted peron. I got excited for ginger ale. And it was the best ginger ale in the world. I slept a little bit longer. And then I started to get up. But that was really funny. I don’t know what funny, but it must have been entertaining. I would be getting dressed too, and aside from the laughter as an impedent, my legs were ones too. they didn’t really know what they were supposed to do. Poor legs.

I stumbled out clothed eventually and my parents took their drunk daughter to a cab and drove home. I loved the cab ride. I napped there too in what could not have been longer than 2 minute dreams. One was about the brady bunch. And one was about these pink furry things on a table. Some of them had a watch wrapped around. Some were moving. My friend was there; we were picking some up. I don’t know why. It didn’t matter because I woke up and laughed at my parents about something.

They should have taken more advantage of my drunken state. But they were kind.   Then we arrived at home and I ate soup.
And that was my ’scopisperience.