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Gardens and Chaos

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4th March 2010

4:28am: 99s
My shoulders are so knotted up that when I roll them, I can hear them crack. Very attractive. One thing I miss about college is that there was always someone around to give me a back massage when I needed one. Hell, if I worked at it, I could con a few boys to give me massages after the last one tired out. These days, I lack those kinds of resources.

I don't know why I'm still up...again. I meant to go to bed ages ago. I don't have to work tomorrow, so that's all good and fine, but I don't want to sleep the whole day away either. Today was a rather productive day though, so if I end up not doing a whole lot tomorrow, I won't be as frusterated as usual.

Tragedy of the day: I finally cleared out the kitchen sink and loaded the dishwasher, only to discover that we are out of Cascade. How anti-climactic.

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

28th February 2010

10:10pm: Bump
I don't know why the hell I'm not asleep yet. Long day spent traveling across country on three hours of sleep the night before AND I get to work tomorrow morning. As far as bright ideas go, staying up longer wouldn't be my best one.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

22nd February 2010

12:07am: Bright screen, dark room
I spent a good hour or so tonight reading over old entries. Nostalgia will do that to a person. I'm half amused/horrified/impressed by some of the things I've written over the years. Mostly...it just tired me out. I had so much emotion!

I should start writing again. Without all that emotion though, what is there to write about? When it comes down to it, I really am a very boring person when I'm not wrapped up in myself. What am I supposed to write about? I think I've forgotten how to blog...

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

18th February 2010

5:36pm: *

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

17th August 2009

8:15pm: All Is Not Lost
That's just a good thing to remember.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

4th February 2009

8:07pm: Oh, and
Despite my worries over memory, two things happened today that reminded me that the general population is capable of small kindnesses.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

7:46pm: Biography
Sometimes I feel like I suppress memories I can't bear to think about so much, that soon I will lose my ability to remember anything at all.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

21st January 2009

6:38pm: Footsteps on footnotes
Eating mangos in the wintertime reminds me of short skirts and flip-flops. Everyone should eat more mangos. They are good for the soul.

(5 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

26th August 2008

8:24pm: The post that will change your life
Two in a row as a tribute to the days when I'd post more than twice a month.

I'm not sure why, surely most people don't even read me anymore, but I feel more vulnerable posting now than when I was in my teens, giving out the address freely to anyone who would take it. When I come to this site, I still have the old urges to pour out my soul on the Post An Entry page, yet for the most part I hesitate. Maybe I don't have as many words as I used to. Maybe I'm more cautious about what I want other people to see. Maybe I'm just lazy. (This is the most likely of all options.) Whatever it is, it's hard to overcome.

So instead of commenting on the state of my heart, I will comment on my stomach. I'm very hungry and debating what to eat for dinner. I'm thinking Subway, but could go with Noodles and Company instead. It's really a toss-up. Maybe I should flip a coin. Stay tuned for the dramatic conclusion of Maren's Choice of Food.
Current Mood: indescribable

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

8:17pm: Paper cuts
I have a strong urge to buy a new book, even though I have more than quite a few unread ones at home. Is there a twelve-step program for new-book addiction?

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

17th June 2008

5:48pm: Blank
I need a new avatar.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

9th May 2008

5:16pm: Mango Babies
I keep doing double-takes at people I glimpse out of the corner of my eyes. Strangers, all of them, yet I keep seeing echoes of people I once knew. There's Nicole, Tammy, Matt and Nick. Except not really. There is Drew and Jessica. Except again, not really. How many times can I get away with the excuse, "Sorry, I don't mean to stare, you just look like someone I know."? These aren't shadows of people I knew well, they were the ones who slipped in and out of my life without making much of an impact. I have no fond memories of them, nor any resentments. So why am I not mistaking complete strangers for ones I've loved and lost instead of those I never loved at all?

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

7th May 2008

6:02pm: What's the rhyme about rainy days?
It is dark and gloomy outside, the perfect day to sit at a desk in the office and be grateful that I'm not a squirrel huddled up in a damp corner somewhere. It's always a good day when I remember to be grateful for things, even if it's just for not being a cute-yet-drenched small animal.

I am having a fight with Point on my computer. It won't let me open a file because it says someone is already IN the file. Guess who it says is in the file? Me. So Point isn't letting me withdraw a file because apparently I'm already doing it. Damn it. Working an office job is helping me to figure out why Dilbert was so popular.

Olive Garden for dinner tonight. I am seriously considering chicken parmagian. Also I think I'm going to stop by Borders and pick up a shiny new book to keep me occupied tomorrow while I'm at the hospital with Gogo. Stepping into Borders is dangerous for me, but I'm going to brave it. I just need to keep repeating to myself, "I will NOT spend my whole paycheck, I will NOT spend my whole paycheck..."

God, I can't wait to take off these heels.

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

23rd April 2008

5:35pm: Ya-ya
Two more plus thirty. Positive thoughts. I can!
Current Mood: hungry

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

21st April 2008

4:44pm: Bad hair day and a zit on my upper lip. Three more hours of work to go, except I'm sort of lacking work with this job. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for being lazy, but six hours a day goes a lot faster when there are tasks for me to do. So instead I read Time magazine and spend time on websites that don't do anything for my brain cells. I sip alternatively between a large fountain drink from 7-11 and a small bottle of mango lemonade that was ridiculously overpriced at the grocery store. I take a call from a man who is trying to fax a resume to someone at our office who does not exist. I wish for a second I lived in an era where it was glamorous to smoke cigarettes and not just stupid. I wonder when I should try quitting. I look at my cell phone and feel sorry for myself because no one has called me today before realizing I haven't called anyone either.

How different my world is today than two years ago. I suppose this is normal, yet the realization still comes at a shock to me. I say I don't like change, so then why do I seem to be Queen of it?
Current Mood: restless

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

17th April 2008

2:44pm: A FWD I got today
*I normally don't do stuff like this, but this email really hit me and I thought I'd share*

A short history lesson on the privilege of voting.

The women were innocent and defenseless. And by the end of the night, they were barely alive. Forty prison guards wielding clubs and their warden's blessing went on a rampage against the 33 women wrongly convicted of 'obstructing sidewalk traffic.'

They beat Lucy Burn, chained her hands to the cell bars above her head and left her hanging for the night, bleeding and gasping for air. They hurled Dora Lewis into a dark cell, smashed her head against an iron bed and knocked her out cold. Her cellmate, Alice Cosu, thought Lewis was dead and suffered a heart attack. Additional affidavits describe the guards grabbing, dragging, beating, choking, slamming, pinching, twisting and kicking the women.

Thus unfolded the 'Night of Terror' on Nov. 15, 1917, when the warden at the Occoquan Workhouse in Virginia ordered his guards to teach a lesson to the suffragists imprisoned there because they dared to picket Woodrow Wilson's White House for the right to vote.

For weeks, the women's only water came from an open pail. Their food--all of it colorless slop--was infested with worms. When one of the leaders, Alice Paul, embarked on a hunger strike, they tied her to a chair, forced a tube down her throat and poured liquid into her until she vomited. She was tortured like this for weeks until word was smuggled out to the press.

So, refresh my memory. Some women won't vote this year because--why, exactly? We have carpool duties? We have to get to work? Our vote doesn't matter? It's raining?

Last week, I went to a sparsely attended screening of HBO's new movie 'Iron Jawed Angels.' It is a graphic depiction of the battle these women waged so that I could pull the curtain at the polling booth and have my say. I am ashamed to say I needed the reminder.

All these years later, voter registration is still my passion. But the actual act of voting had become less personal for me, more rote. Frankly, voting often felt more like an obligation than a privilege. Sometimes it was inconvenient.

My friend Wendy, who is my age and studied women's history, saw the HBO movie, too. When she stopped by my desk to talk about it, she looked angry. She was--with herself. 'One thought kept coming back to me as I watched that movie,' she said. 'What would those women think of the way I use--or don't use--my right to vote? All of us take it for granted now, not just younger women, but those of us who did seek to learn.' The right to vote, she said, had become valuable to her 'all over again.'

HBO will run the movie periodically before releasing it on video and DVD. I wish all history, social studies and government teachers would include the movie in their curriculum. I want it shown on Bunko night, too, and anywhere else women gather. I realize this isn't our usual idea of socializing, but we are not voting in the numbers that we should be, and I think a little shock therapy is in order.

It is jarring to watch Woodrow Wilson and his cronies try to persuade a psychiatrist to declare Alice Paul insane so that she could be permanently institutionalized. And it is inspiring to watch the doctor refuse. Alice Paul was strong, he said, and brave. That didn't make her crazy. The doctor admonished the men: 'Courage in women is often mistaken for insanity.'

Please pass this on to all the women you know. We need to get out and vote and use this right that was fought so hard for by these very courageous women.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

4th March 2008

6:58pm: Work!


(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

26th February 2008

6:38pm: Tangerine
They say bold lipcolor is in, but I am battling the constant fear that people just think I drank too much kool-aid.

(4 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

22nd February 2008

6:18pm: and. scene.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

9th February 2008

9:30pm: Too many years, not enough days.
It's been so long...


I fidget while I sit, phone pressed against my ear. Having my own cubical makes me feel professional, more so when I wear heels. Today I am not though, flip flops are my shoe of choice. People call me crazy, but it is the only way I can defy winter. Will this season ever end? I just want to wear skirts again.

The phone rings and rings and rings and I hang up. My day is filled with this to the point I have started to dream about a phone that keeps ringing even after I answer it. Is this what my life has come to? It's not forever. This is what I keep telling myself.

The truth is, I don't dislike my job. It's just times like this I dislike life and my job falls under the catagory of life so...there we are.

There we are. Here I am. Now is all we ever have.


We are fighting not because you really did anything to make me angry, but more because I was angry to begin with and felt like fighting. I can't fight the world, so why not fight you? This is unfair I know, but you have been known to do the same so I don't feel too guilty. Instead I smoke a cigarette without offering you a drag and threaten to leave. Later on we will fall asleep in each others arms with your cat cuddled between us. In the morning we will ask ourselves why we were fighting and apologize. This is why you can make me cry tonight. Because tomorrow all will be forgiven and we will eat french toast and bacon. This ritual may seem strange to outsiders, but right now it is what keeps us both grounded. Without each other we would be lost.


It is cold outside, but the dog has to pee and either I suck it up or she will pee on my laundry. I choose to suck it up. It might not be so bad if I put on warm clothes before following her outside but of course that would be way too smart so I don't. I shiver and tell her to go do a job, please. She looks at me, looks at the large pile of snow that is the backyard then looks at me again. The sidewalk has been salted and the grains hurt the bottom of my feet. Because of course I am barefoot. I am much too lazy of a person to actually put on shoes. Snickers suddenly stops looking at me and moves. She bounces and pounces, practically prances and suddenly I am not cold anymore. Watching her take such joy in the snow, everything else falls away. Suddenly I am just a girl with her dog on a soft winter's night and everything is going to be okay.


Did you hear that, God? I'm gonna be okay.

(1 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

7th May 2007

8:44pm: Here/There
Nowhere. Everywhere.

Current Mood: aggravated

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

11th April 2007

6:00pm: Mine

Waking up just got so much better.
Current Mood: happy

(tell me your dreams)

20th March 2007

5:47pm: Our empty mouths
Birthday tomorrow. Officially seven years away from thirty.

I have to stop looking at my twenties as a countdown to doomsday.


And I could laugh with (or rather at) the irony of you.

(9 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

5th March 2007

10:29am: Severed and served
Anger is such a useless emotion. I hate feeling it, at people, at situations, at myself. I've kept my anger stuffed inside for years now, and suddenly I find myself bubbling over with it at the most inconvenient times. I don't know how to deal with this hot, heavy emotion and that fuels the fire all the more. I want to scream, to throw things, to destroy china cabinets and wreak havoc in the living room. Instead I pace and try to chain-smoke away all this thick, pent up rage that I could choke on if I wasn't careful. I suddenly understand why, when we were seventeen and the world was so sharp and raw and painful, Mark put his fist through a wall one late night after a phone call from his father.

Off to pawn pieces of jewelry from a dead mother who didn't live long enough to know the difference. All in the name of a tank of gas. And I start to wonder, how do you think the angels fought their wars?
Current Mood: exhausted

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

26th February 2007

4:49pm: Bottled water
While driving, I keep glancing at passing cars and mistaking the drivers for oversized dogs. This is more disturbing than you know.


Wish me luck. I'm too superstitious to say what for, but if this works out for me, it could be a big step into rebuilding a life for myself. Not only do I want this, but I need this.

(2 fragmented fantasies | tell me your dreams)

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