Open letter to The Man That Took a Very Deliberate Piss on the Bus Today:

Attention: Man that took a very deliberate piss on the bus today,

I am calling you out on your public urination in the not-so-public of ways, because, at the time of your indiscretion, I was too shocked by your complete disregard for your fellow passengers.  As you got up and approached the doorway, I noticed your aged face and felt bad for the obese, old man struggling not to fall as the bus lurched down the avenue.  You stood by the door, leaning into the corner, looking hardened and sad.  But then, I heard the sound of running water, and looked down to see a solid stream coming from your direction.  Still, I felt bad for a moment, thinking that perhaps you had spilled your tasty beverage.

But alas, no.  You were taking a very deliberate piss just 3 mere feet away from me. You used the corner of the bus entrance like a urinal stall, zipped up and then sat back down.

I have considered the fact that, because you are old, perhaps you cannot hold it.  I would accept this as an unpleasant, but understandable reality.  However, I believe that you could have held it for an extra 15 seconds until you could have gotten off the bus and pissed in the street.  The gutter is there, to lead such grime, filth and urine into the sewer.  I am not oblivious to the fact that there are likely urine and feces particles on the curb of the biggest downtown street.  However, I am within my rights to naievely pretend that such bodily fluids do not end up on the seats and grip bars of such public transportation.

I also wish to remind you that it was before 12pm on a muggy Monday morning.  It was not late on a Saturday night, nor was it a national holiday commonly marked by excessive drinking. If you were drunk, it was not the socially acceptable time to be drunk.

I retain the right to not have to view, step in, or acknowledge your genitals/bodily fluids. Your use of public transportation is your acceptance of these terms, and you have broken the contract as stated herein.

Signed, sincerely,

The girl that was trying to keep to herself and
enjoy the bus ride home with the comfort of her mp3 player.

P.S. Perhaps, this letter should instead be an apology addressed to the girl standing just a mere foot from you and your member.  The one I tried to make eye contact with as you were sprinkling urine on her adidas.  I would like to apologize for not grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to safety.  But at the moment, it seemed better that she remain blisfully unaware.  As a passive party to the sullying of your sneakers, I apologize.

5 by 30 update for Feb

Ok, about 2 months into my 5 by 30 challenge, so I’m due for an update:

1. run 50 miles. (not in a row!  are you nuts!  no, just 50 total…)

STATUS: I’ve run about 17 so far…and getting better and stronger.  I ran 4.4 miles on Monday, which is about 1.2 miles farther than ever before.

2. take more pictures with new fancy camera, all in new places.  print 5 of them, and frame and hang at least 1.

STATUS: I have not done this.  But I’m looking forward to doing it!

3. knock down the best jammer on my derby team.  (not naming names-she can’t know I’m gunning for her.)

STATUS: I did this, and it didn’t  feel as good as I thought it would.  Though, I think she was kind of proud of me.  However, she recently bruised my ribs, so I think we’re even.

4. drop 2 inches off the tummy, to be ready to wear a bikini for the first time ever (at 30!).  ECE is coming in June, and I need to be ready for the pool.  I’m big all over, but my mid-section is the area that is dangerously fatty.  This goal seems like it should be easy enough, considering goal #1.    Stick to the workouts, keep eating around 1500 calories/day…should be ok, right?  (Famous fat last words…) Starting measurements 39 inches at the belly button.  (This is why I’m blogging anonymously.  How do you like them apples, interwebs?)

STATUS: I’m kicking this goal’s ass!  I’ve lost 3.5 inches so far.  While 2 inches doesn’t go as far as one might think, I’m on my way.  I’m looking fit, dropping unhealthy weight, feeling good.  Not quite bikini ready just yet, but closer than I’ve ever been.

Advice: is a great tool!

5. Write 4 short stories, fiction or non-fiction.  That’s no small task, considering I’m the one making myself write them-they’re not assignments or deadline.  It’s a self-inflicted deadline.

STATUS: I have not done, nor even started this.  I have great anxiety over this project, and it’s not looking good.  I want to write, I enjoy writing, but I do not enjoy creating story ideas.  It seems that I do not do well without outside implemented deadlines. Suggestions?  Story ideas?  Help me out here, peoples.


My Recurring Room Dreams

I have this recurring dream, in which I’m in the home of a loved one, or maybe my own home, and soon realize that the home has a secret quarters-rooms or a space that can only be accessed through a secret door.  Sometimes it’s an attic, atop a tiny ladder. Or, in one case, the wall folded open to a tiny spiral staircase.

The dreams are always a euphoric feeling, giving me the sensation of having found something very meaningful and sentimental there.  In one dream I was in my paternal grandmother’s house, and found a room full of very old dresses and women’s clothes.  They were carefully hung on dress forms, gloves folded in pairs, hats placed neatly on dressers.  In another, my maternal grandmother’s home, a beautiful sitting room, aglow in the sunshine.  The walls were light colored, and blue sky melted in through geometrically shaped sky-lights, placed in angled vaulted ceilings.  (A remarkable task, if you knew the size of my grandma’s tiny bungalow.)

In the most pleasant of all these dreams, my own home had a secret chamber.  I found a secret door in the middle of a wall, papered in victorian reds and golds.   I pushed through it to find full of lush, leafy plants, and more sunshine.  It was as if there was a greenhouse, hidden away in my own home, steamy and damp.  Plants were stacked rows high, again in a room with domed ceilings, one or two plush arm chairs arranged for reading.

The rooms feel warm, serene, and comfortable.  As I said, it’s always a pleasant feeling-one that I don’t want to shake off when I do wake up.

It was my husband that first pointed out that I have this recurring dream.  I haven’t had it for a  few months, and I’ve been missing it, wondering now and then what the dream even means.  But, now that I’m writing this, I realize that the dream has always taken place in the home of a woman, even if that woman is me.  I’m thinking the secret rooms are like wombs, nurturing, and a warm place for growth and serenity.  Maybe the reason I haven’t had this dream lately is because I’m openly looking forward to having a child, as opposed to the secret longing that existed before.  When my desire to be a mother was secret, the rooms were secrets.  Now that I feel free to think about it, the rooms are no longer secret, no longer warranting a dream.

An open request to my favorite Dream: I hope you’ll come back.  Maybe tonight?  Maybe some other time?  But, I’d hate to think you’re gone forever.


The Who and Why of Anonymous Blogging

I’m thinking that by now you must be wondering, who is this girl, and why is she being so anonymous.  Well, that seems an obvious question for the few (if any) people that read this blog.

Firstly, who am I?  Well, I suppose that seems like it should become evident with time and reading, but I suppose dragging that out could lead to over-hype and let-down situation.  So, for now, let’s leave it as I’m 29, live in a mid-western city that doesn’t like to think of itself as mid-western, and I’m a creative writing student.  The blog is an exercise in developing my writing skills, namely those in the non-fiction arena.  Why keep it a secret?  It’s not like I’m going to pull a Dooce and get canned (or famous).

I’m keeping it anonymous so that I have the option to be honest, with very little self-censorship.  The older I get, the more I realize that adults have a lot of secrets.  Life is complicated.  People suffer from mental and emotional issues, go through life-changing events and tragedy, and do things that affect each other in unforeseen ways.  For now, I’ll be keeping my identity and more on the DL, so that I can talk more candidly, should the need arise.

Though as of yet, it’s been hard for me to discuss a lot of things that involve other people.  Some of the issues that run through my family and friends, the things I know that they don’t think other people know…it doesn’t seem right for me to discuss the details without their ok.  And I know that “ok” will never be forthcoming.  As my friend told me this morning, “it’s not [my] story to tell.”  Peoples pain entitles them to tell (or not tell) their own story in their own way.

So, I’ll need to develop my own stories.  My pain = my stories.  Let’s just hope there’s more triumph than pain.

In the meantime-it’s a challenge.  I need to be careful to be descriptive, while non-specific about a lot of people, places and things.  I think my husband needs a nickname, so he’s not “my husband” in every future post.   Maybe, since he bought me the laptop that motivated the blog, I should let him pick his nickname.  Mr. ____.  Mr. Badass?

And it’s especially hard for me to not name the city I live in.  The city I feel has the most potential and yet falls so short.  That could be a blog in and of itself.

But, I digress…I’m on the interwebs, and the rest of the story is on a need to know basis for now.





Five by 30

My 30th birthday is looming, just over 3 months away.  I’ve already had to come to terms with gray hair, settling down, being responsible…so it’s not the idea of another year older that bothers me.  I’m got a heightened sense of awareness about the idea of turning 30 because this is the year that my husband and I have decided we want to start having kids.  So, it’s not that I’m getting older…it’s that my life will be changing drastically over the coming year or so…give or take…who knows how much time I have left.

I tell my husband all the time, that even when we have kids, we’ll still get to do the things we enjoy.  Going out, working on personal projects, spending quiet time with each other.  I believe all of these things to be true, but I’m also profoundly aware of the limitations that children will bring to our lives.  Money, time, and freedom will all be shared with a little soul more important than our own.


photo courtesy of Best Friends Animal Society

photo courtesy of Best Friends Animal Society

I’ve already made the commitment to take a big, epic trip, before even trying to get pregnant.  My first destination is Angel Canyon, Utah.  I know what you’re thinking-doesn’t “big, epic” describe ascending Mt. Kilimanjaro or something?    Well, for the mid-western girl that’s never been to a city bigger than Chicago, a trip most of the way across country, to see the canyons, is pretty big, epic,


The second trip in the works is to Europe…ideally England, Scotland and perhaps a detour to the motherland of Switzerland…more on that big, epic idea later.

But, neither of those trips are an option until a break in our class schedules, so I’ve got nothing but time to sit and stalk our destinations via google earth.

But, back to the dirty-thirty…

I was perusing some WordPress tags, and came across My Kids are Stronger than Me, a blog where Jim chronicles his bucket list of 30 before 30. Turns out he’s not the only one. Seems like most of these folks started more than 90 days out though…or 94 as in my case.

So, I woke up this morning, thinking I needed to complete a 30 by 30…just making the list is a task in and of itself…how about I go for quality over quantity.

1. run 50 miles. (not in a row!  are you nuts!  no, just 50 total…)

2. take more pictures with new fancy camera, all in new places.  print 5 of them, and frame and hang at least 1.

3. knock down the best jammer on my derby team.  (not naming names-she can’t know I’m gunning for her.)

4. drop 2 inches off the tummy, to be ready to wear a bikini for the first time ever (at 30!).  ECE is coming in June, and I need to be ready for the pool.  I’m big all over, but my mid-section is the area that is dangerously fatty.  This goal seems like it should be easy enough, considering goal #1.    Stick to the workouts, keep eating around 1500 calories/day…should be ok, right?  (Famous fat last words…) Starting measurements 39 inches at the belly button.  (This is why I’m blogging anonymously.  How do you like them apples, interwebs?)

5. Write 4 short stories, fiction or non-fiction.  That’s no small task, considering I’m the one making myself write them-they’re not assignments or deadlined.  It’s a self-inflicted deadline.

P.S.  I refuse to refer to this list as a bucket list.  First of all, the term “bucket” also means one’s buttocks, according to my Polish upbringing.  Secondly, the phrase just makes me think of a bucket full of golf balls.  Who wants a list of balls?  No, thank you.

Top 10 of ’10

I tend to think in terms of “top 5” lists.  “Top 5” movies. “Top 5” favorite desert island snack foods.  Of course, my internal dialogue hears them read by John Cusack…justifications and all.   So, when end of year rolls around, it’s like an excuse to think in terms of “top 5 lists”.  Except “Top 5” of ’10 seems to be missing the mark…so for the end of decade…let’s shoot for 10…granted, it may be a watered down 10, and I’m not going to put them in any particular order, because we all know these things vary from day-to-day.  Pretend you hear John Cusak too…

Top 10 Great Personal Moments of 2010

  1. Saw Dolly Parton (and Kenny Rogers) at DollyWood Amusement park.  Dolly’s my hair hero…and while the gal is looking a bit rough with all of the plastic surgery, I love how she embraces her gay fans and can laugh at herself when need be.
  2. Skated in a double overtime derby bout.  If you know derby, you know how amazingly rare this occurs.  It was epic.
  3. Did yoga for the first time.  Lots of people talk about yoga like it’s just resting, and that if you want to gain anything from it, it has to be hot yoga or rope yoga or yoga with your cat.  But they clearly haven’t tried traditional yoga.  I did shoulder stands and hand stands and learned that I’m actually pretty flexible for an out-of-shape girl.  More importantly, I grasped the concept of clearing my head, thinking in a slow, and logical way.    Tuning out distractions, and focusing on the one thing in the pose at that moment.  Since starting weekly yoga, there are times where I can even drown out sounds in order to listen to something more carefully.  It’s euphoric, and still, all at once.
  4. Ran my first 5 k.  Not bad, considering it took me years to get up to running a mile, or 20 minutes consecutively.  Somehow, I did it.  In 20-degree-weather.  I’m not sure I’ll ever do it again, but it was one of the few times I’ve ever really been proud of myself.
  5. Transferred to a big girl college, not just the community college that I’ve been at for years, and years.  I’m establishing my major as a creative writer, and feel very good for having finally come to a natural conclusion about my path in life.  Writing is at least my 4th major in college, but it’s been something I’ve known I enjoyed since I was old enough to enjoy anything.   I’m glad that I’ve finally realized that I’m not trying to get a degree to get a job-I want to learn to be good at something that is important to me.
  6. Road trip to the Carolinas with my husband.  Honestly, the vacation itself sucked, but you know what they say…it’s not the destination, but the trip…or something like that.  It’s a bonding and strengthening experience to spend literally days in a car with a loved one, and find yourself still wanting to be with that person at the end of it all.
  7. I got to be on Man vs. Food.  No big euphoric point here…just pretty damned cool.
  8. Got a tattoo.  It was deeply personal, and symbolic of the strength that derby gives me…another means of carrying that strength with me in other aspects of life.
  9. Had my derby comic book published, via Oni Press.  I wrote it, but I was very fortunate that my artist did such a remarkable job with the details and essence of me and my team, so the story really does portray my experience.
  10. seeing my 2nd cousin join jr. derby at age 13.  I can’t describe how grateful I am that young women are getting the benefits of derby at such a critical and difficult time in their lives.  I’m so proud to be in this derby-society, and even more proud that these young girls are joining us.

And…a few more “tops”:

  • Top Beer: the beer that I drank on the bleachers at East Coast Extravaganza Derby event…at 11 am.  Something about the freedom to drink at 11 am makes the beer taste better.
  • Top Song: The Heartless Bastards “Out At Sea” (they’re also my “top show”)
  • Top Movie: Mary and Max.  It’s claymation, it’s on netflix on demand…and it’s rare that I’ll get so emotional watching anything.
  • Top Book: to be honest, I read a ton of short fiction for classes this year, and I can’t really pick.  Mike Birbiglia’s, “Sleepwalk with me” comes to mind though, and I have a feeling he’d like being on anyone’s top list.
  • Top Meal:  damned hard to pick.  the breakfast place we went to during Derby Nationals in Chicago, the post 5k omelette and pumpkin pancakes, the pre-tattoo chicken tacos…I really can’t pick.

Wow…writing a list of top anything can make you feel optimistic…i started this post thinking that maybe I’d be doing a low-points list (which would include seeing only the dead sea turtle while on vacation, watching my neurologically challenged dog drag herself around the house, and nearly totalling my car) but who wants to think about that crap?

Happy New Year Interwebs!  I hope 2011’s a good one.

Off the Rails

New Years Eve is nearly upon us.  Tonight, I was strongly considering going to bed at 9pm.   And you want me to go out tomorrow-on a Friday night, after another whole day of work, and driving  in express lanes, and getting a short lunch and getting yelled at on the phones.  I’m supposed to go drinking in someone’s living room or basement bar, waiting up for some ball to drop?  Why?  So I can kiss my husband at midnight?  I can do that in my own bed, in my ugly old pajamas.  At 9:30 if I want.

But I’ll go.  I’ll go out, and stay out longer than planned, and have fun, but not really.  It’ll be fun enough that I’ll be ready to leave sooner than everyone else, because I’ve learned that staying until the end of the party is always a disappointment.  Don’t wait around, expecting things to get really out of hand.  Leave while the party is still jumping…before it falls off the rails.

Tonight, on the second to last day of 2010, I’m not being retrospective or nostalgic.  The jury is still out on how I feel about this past year, in a lot of ways.  Instead of thinking about how I feel about all of it,  I’m opting for blogging in bed, trying to ignore the terrible taste in the back of my throat that is acid reflux caused by the onion-and-fake-mexican-sausage-biscuit-bowl from Bob Evans.

I think this year is about due to end.  My biscuty burps tell me that 2010 is about to fall off the rails.