blank as walls

it shocks me sometimes when i open this blog, how violently the words surge into the foreground of my brain, demanding to be poured into this little box. what is this little box anyway? just a some empty white space. it demands nothing from me, and never responds to anything i give. a real journal is better than this. at least there's some warmth in the physicality of its paper, a sense of security in the lasting tradition. so what is it about this blank, impersonal, uncaring, ungrateful little box? i think its the pen. pens are just so damn heavy.

i'm cold in the office again, and it's making my brain fuzzy and my fingers very angry. hopefully yoga tonight restores some life in me. i'm somehow convinced that i'm colder than i was last winter. ever since i left the doctor's office in July, i feel decidedly colder, but its probably just psychological. i used to wonder why my body is so disfunctional. like it somehow made it down the conveyor belt without being spotted by the divine defect checkers, and made its way to earth and me, the lucky bargain bin winner. but everyone's body is different. they all have their individual quirks and "defects." so in a weird way this realization has helped me come to terms with my body-- it's not abnormal, it's simply mine. the allergies, the knotty shoulders, the asymmetrical eyes, that one bigger foot. they're just mine, and i accept them. but one thing i do refuse is that stupid quack doctor's conclusion. i refuse to accept that i am empty-- my womb ain't no defunct buffalo bill. not yet anyway. i know thanksgiving's past, but i'd actually like to give thanks for the iffy state of my baby makin' apparatus. because it's pushed me to make a definitive choice in my life, which is really saying something because my life is like a big pile of goo constantly slipping in and around yes-no-maybe so's. ambiguity's the name of the game. but as far as children are concerned-- and yes, i know this is a big statement to make and it's a chicken move to lay it out in this blank emotionless box-- i want them. or maybe just one. or two. or four. undecided so far. the point is, i've made one solid, certain decision that one of the roles to cross my stage of life will be Mother. i don't know which role i'm in now, or how i'll ever reach that point. but when the cue drops, i'll be brave. and excited. and grateful.

a round of applause to all the mothers in the world. my birthday is next week, and i sending mine some long stemmed roses. thank you, umma. you'd get an academy award in my book.