GoGo on a Page

My Photo
Location: Midwest, United States

"Power lines, my travlin' partner on this ride. Dripping, pulling - up and down, in this sing song, their lullaby blends with the swaying train. I curl myself into this journey; folding myself up into this pocket of time. Old familiars greet me - that swing set in the back yard, the ruins of an old church covered in new birth and old - mixed with unremembered newness." Journal Entry, October 13, 2005~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~All words are copyrighted by GoGo on a Page/gogoroku.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Sunny Weather, Under Stormed Filled Skies

Written This Morning (free thought):

A storm breaks the sweltering humidity that stuck to us for the last few days. I watched it roll in this morning, a cool fresh breeze and faint hints of distance thunder brought in on the clouds. At this moment, the rains settle into a steady flow down my awning after gushing stormier weather just moments ago. I had a few errands to run around the neighborhood – garbage bags from the Convenience Store, Coffee shop to check email, and then a bike ride before the weather broke. The weather broke while I was reading the electronic letters. The morning once hung a blurry bright as the clouds crowded out the horizon, now cover the day with a dimmer dark. The open signs carry a thick glow of red on this rainy day. I guess the bike ride is out.

Life is a wondrous thing for me right now, and that’s a little unsettling. I shouldn’t be having such a good time. I’m turning 30, which means nothing except the opportunity to be different then I was has brought with it attachments I can’t shake. I am about to be 30 and I haven’t had a serious relationship since…well a very long time. Attachment #1. I live my life liquid, meaning no house payments, no car payments, only the bare bills to pay, so that I can do what…move, be free, pay off my non-school related debt to see if debt free life is possible. Attachment #2. Our world is messed up and in pain the likes she has never seen before, and, guess what, not only is my Government responsible with the rest of the elite globe, but we are not yet done with our destruction. Attachment #3.

Here I am feeling mighty fine. Will I die an early death for this?

When I wake up to my life right now, I either begin to study about mental health and systematic oppression of people within the U.S. mental health system; volunteer at the once Internship with a community center that’s goals are to assist the local neighborhood community, or work at a Crisis Center helping individuals with mental health distress. Oh then there is the random assistance to some elders in the neighborhood, art projects and fun with friends. If I took life too seriously, I think I’d be so messed up right now. Even my attachments to…my attachments bring with them a fun experience to simply see what is going to happen. Like a kid, I’m kind of excited to see what tomorrow is going to bring. Partly because I have more faith in people then I do the governments, partly because I have faith in myself.

Am I weird, strange, completely diagnosable? All I can say is, as I watched the storm roll in and out while writing these words, I feel pretty lucky I am alive and love the contradictions that life brings.

I believe I was born with a mystic’s heart, a philosopher’s mind, and the soul of a novice. I am happy for it.


P.S. I did eventually go for the bike ride. It was very worth the wait.

Monday, May 29, 2006

Insert Random Check In Here

Quick post today. The computer fairy took away my home connection. I knew it was too good to last. I now have to go to the coffee shop to check my email again. What a sad life.

No seriously, life is good these days. I'm in a steady pattern of studying and hanging with friends these days. I have taken the bike out for a ride yesterday and today with minimal pain in the shoulder and knee. The first ride I had to go very slow and test my brakes all the time. It was a hot day, but I was sweating from the fear of riding. I got back on the horse. Today the ride was very nice. Slowly, I will learn to trust riding without fear of falling off...until I fall off again of course. :O).

The shoulder still hurts, its a low grade pain that sticks with me. I haven't been able to sleep on my left side since the accident, which is my favorite side to sleep on other then my right. The closest I have come to sleeping on the left side is proping myself up on the right, so I kind of tilt toward the left. Its not the same. The knee is also healing well but slow. I must have hit it pretty bad because there is still some swelling and I'm constantly needing to move it so it won't tighten up. Ah, but my frame is healing and minor squaks left are nothing compared to that first week. I am grateful I can still ride my bike and am going to completely heal.

I was suppose to go to Detroit with some friends today. The Tigers and the Yankees were playing, but opted to stay in town and sit on a porch. It was a sweltering day, perfect for drinking lemonade on porches and doing absolutely nothing. Conversations started and stopped with the breeze. That is what I did today.

Well, that's all I have. I have received some emails regarding the shoulder, so I hope I answered the questions. Thanks for sending your kind words and care.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Sunday Scribblings: First Love

My first love, hmm. That would be LW, age 9 years.

I think back on LW with found memories. I could tell he liked me when we played the game "Endless Caverns". In this game, we would pretend we were lost in...well, endless caverns and in each cave there would be a new monster to fight. LW always wanted to play the monster, thinking about ways to torment us. Us usually was a group of boys and myself. At the end of recess, everyone usually wound up dead to the monster, except me. I felt special.

Then there were the bus rides home where we would sit and talk about space, time travel, and various existential contemplations about the universe. For example, I remember once we chatted away about whether or not we were alone in the universe. I’m a geek and have always been one. To this day, I still get excited to read about String Theory even if I still have no clue what’s its all about. LW and I would spend that time on the bus just bouncing thoughts and questions off one another.

Of course, it didn’t stop there. After he was dropped off, it took me a ½ before the bus made it to my stop. We had it timed out perfect that about ½ after I got home, he would call me and we would continue or daily discussion. This would happen day in and day out for the entire 4th grade.

Now, I prefer girls these days and can tell a thousand stories about how why, but LW was the only boy who had my childhood heart. Neither of us ever talked about liking each other or "going steady" as it was called back then, though we would show it in gifts and drawings. One time for his birthday, I made my Mother buy him a new marble chess set because I knew he wanted one. It was the most expensive gift I ever got her to spend on some kids birthday party, usually leaving the token gift to $10 or less. He in turn gave me a necklace one recess just before bell. I remember him pushing me aside as the lot of us 4th graders were lining up to go in and handed me a box.

I opened it to find a pseudo gold necklace with a pseudo ruby jewel wrapped by a heart. This was the first and only time we kissed. I initiated, overly excited by my gift, I just leaned in and pecked him on the lips before pulling away to look at my gift. His face was a few shades red, and his smile was filled with absolute satisfaction. I loved him very much that day and still hold his expression with favor to this day.

It wasn’t until MP, a girl who sat next to us on the bus blurting out one day "You too like each other, so why don’t you go steady already," did LW and I talk about what that meant. To two children, it meant we were best friends who could share the world, play games, and talk for hours. We never officially went steady, though agreed we would when 5th grade rolled around. I guess our mindset was we were too young at 9 years old, but not at 10.

Things change and as time progressing into new selves, we never really came back to our goals in the 5th grade or the close friendship we share. I’m not sure why, though know by then I had fallen for a girl who I couldn’t figure out at the time, but I wanted to spend my time with. He also started to like someone else at his church and the world went on, with our first love safely tucked away in the 4th grade. I am thankful the time and still carry that necklace in one of my boxes, though the gold has rubbed off. I still search for qualities he had in the girls I date now.

Thanks, LW.


Saturday, May 27, 2006

Living the Elements:

I’m back from the road trip and at my job tonight. I had gotten back into town just in time to sleep before coming in to work tonight. It was a nice trip. I met many interesting people along the way, and scored a sweet hat at a hat shop near Howard University while in DC. I’ll be posting pictures from the trip, including the "nice" hat in the near future.
I’m glad to be home and eager to delve into my routine again. Road trips have a way of bringing out the appreciation for my bed, home, and stable ground. Not that I don’t love to be on the road, but home is eventually missed.

I have stories to tell and of course internal contemplations to share soon. I realized on this trip that I no longer am in a place where I can push myself driving all day and night to make it to a "show" to sell CDs on time. I have come to understand and appreciate a regulated sleeping schedule that allows me to sleep 8 hours a day. Once, I could spend all day driving to a show, then sell product, pack up and head out to a hotel somewhere. At the hotel I would count my inventory and sales before doing the nightly self-care routine then bed. This would keep me up until 3 am, only to wake up between 6-8 am to do it again. I don’t want to do this anymore. I mean stay up late and get up early. In my youth, I could just spend one day power sleeping to get my energy back, but again, I don’t want to do this anymore.

This road trip was great and am very glad I did it, but what I appreciate most is the closure it brought me. There was an era in my life where I traveled the U.S. selling music at concerts between working my "real" job at the music company. It was a good era, complete with fun, laughter, and experience. I have appreciated the experience, but am glad I have moved into a new space in my life. I am just as eager now to come to a post-school life where I can embrace a more routine life.

Sounds boring doesn’t it? To me, it really isn’t. I think I would be bored if I never took the opportunity to live outside my elements, but having done this, I appreciate my comfort zone as that...a zone. Traveling has also helped me to appreciate the fact that when I move to London, with a little prep work, I should be able to live in a completely new place while maintaining a routine I can appreciate. Not too regimented, not too loose. This road trip has helped me to see the prep work I need to do to make this happen.

Yep, that's about it.

Once I was a late night girl
sleeping in late or waking
to the alarm clock of a work day

Now, I'm a early girl,
who loves to get up just after dawn
to slip into my day.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

The Road Trip: My last stop...

My last stop landed me down Route 15 South, a highway draped by the blackened night. My headlights revealed pitch black farm houses, long since gone to bed. For miles, I was the only one moving. Movement is what brings me on this road trip. Just moving down the highways, crossing rivers and back, keeping everything passing by, except me (myself, I?). Hmm.

As I drove to my final destination tonight, eyes tired and arms worn, I realized the directions I had were wrong. They weren’t taking me here, that’s for sure. So, I had to stop the car and collect myself. Found bits and pieces of information I could use – the map, the hotel address. Then off again, onto unknown roads, following the road map directions I made for myself. I’m here. On the way, the roads, completely new, felt so familiar. Having crossed thousands of miles of road in this country – freeways, highways, toll roads, back roads, and unknowns – even in a completely different place, I know exactly where I am. Nice thought, in a time when I wonder what my direction really is, I have the literal taken care of...

On the road, thoughts passed through my mind about getting here…I realized it was more then just about a map. It was reading it, seeing it, trusting the direction as they unfold. But more then this. As I drove undercover tonight, I was completely engulfed with the blackness of night – just me and my headlights seeing the way. It wasn’t just the map and directions that guided me, but that the road had a structure familiar to me. Some-ones built these roads; some-ones drew out the map and cushioned the pavement into topography of our earth. The roads are the same roads everywhere, with variations of course. And there I was, driving down someone else’s mindset, guiding my way.

As I came to my final destination, I understood the word faith.

Good Night,


Labels: ,

Monday, May 22, 2006

The Road, the Doc, & Lady Luck

Today has been a good day. Remember how when I got into the bike accident, I had fallen almost literally at the feet of a bike repair guy? It’s been that kind of day today too. Oh, no accidents! Cross fingers and knock on wood.

I went to the Doc’s office. Nice woman, her humor and candid listening skills are right up my alley. She appreciated my no nonsense approach to health and I appreciated her no nonsense approach to care. Together, I believe I found my Health Care Physician folks! Anywho, as I left the Dr’s office, I realized my car battery was dead. I had left or accidentally turned on my lights. That’s just wrong. I called a friend for a jump, put the phone down and sighed only to see this guy jumping another car from my side-view mirror. I believe the internal dialogue went like this - “No Way!” He was willing to jump my car too.

Perhaps this is just the sign I need that things work out the way they should or I’m one lucky lady. Quick, bet black 18.


The Doc gave me a clean bill of health. The shoulder is healing just fine. If I can regain my range of motion in the next week or so, I shouldn’t need physical therapy either. Go Range of Motion Go! This means tomorrow I can head out of town to sell merchandise for Sweet Honey in the Rock in DC and Rochester, NY. If you go, ask for GoGo at the Music Table. If you’re scary or creepy, don’t! My old job, the Music Company, offered me the chance to follow the group and sell the music for a few shows – for old time sake. I get a rental car, Hotel and food paid for…oh gas too. For a working vacation, it gets me on the road and I love the moments when I can be free to travel the highways. Sometimes, it’s the best time to get to know myself. I never feel alone on the road. I never feel unsure of myself or even lost. I meet wonderful people on the road too.

I could never be a traveling salesperson or someone who traveled all the time, but I do appreciate the random road trips in life. I really love coming home when the trip is done; loving my home just as much as I love the trips I go on. I took the opportunity because this is exactly what I need right now. Me (or is it Myself?), the road, & my CDs to sing to along the way.

I can’t lift heavy things, but am hoping that just like the bike guy and the jumper cable guy of today, lady luck will give me a hand with this.


P.S. A friend of mine, The Chief, said she preferred my daily rambles over poetry, so it looks like I am going to continue with the ramble. I concur...poetry really isn't my thing. Though I don't promise I won't throw in poetry every now and again!


Sunday, May 21, 2006

Sunday Scribblings #8: Three Wishes

In the I wish game, I never know how to answer. Of course, I want the traditional things – money, health, happiness. I could wish for a number of things to be different in my life, including things that have happened in the last week. But, I have decided to stray from these wishes and offer the ones below...for fun. Enjoy.

1. I wish that the entire George Bush family, Dick Cheney, Toni Blair, Saddam Hussein, and Bin Lauden had to be exiled to an island to play the Survivor Game. Could you just imagine as the world tuned in every week to watch them fight over rewards and the immunity idol. I think this would do wonders for promoting world peace.

2. I wish that the "It’s a Small World" ride at Disney World never existed. Yeah, I still have nightmares where the song plays over and over again in my head, while those little dolls come alive and take over the world.

3. I wish that we had recess more as adults.

Thanks Sunday Scribblings for the weekly endeavors!

Saturday, May 20, 2006

On Top of The Pillar, I Will Come Full Circle

"Be bold and mighty forces come to your aid. Until one is committed, there is hesitancy; the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.
"Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans; that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issue from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would come his way."
- E. H. Murray ~Scottish explorer~ Himalayan expedition~

So, its time to start writing about a plan of mine. A commitment in words, I guess I would say. This quote came to me from Paris Parfait as we exchanged words about moving to another country. These words were given to me as encouragement to take the leap. Though this is scary for me, so much so even writing about it on this little blog brings trepidation and doubt as to whether or not I can commit, but here I go with the words – it is my intention to find a job and move to London for a year when I graduate from school. Yep. To make it happen, I need to start now, delving into the logistical planning of the deed. I’ve already started to talk to a friend who is moving over at the end of summer about her experiences in the job search. I’ve even made a commitment to start the Pass Port process in June. I am absolutely scared. There are too many reasons to label them here, but trust me, my little heart beats quick with the thought of attempting this – for now.

I’m traveling this week to DC and Rochester, NY to sell merchandise for an old job of mine - the music company. Its pretty much a comped tripped with a rental car to enjoy the open road. I agreed to sell at these shows, so I could experience being in Cities by myself for a moment. How does it feel to be in an unknown place? Okay, I’ve been to DC a number of times, but not to Rochester. I also enjoy road trips. There is something about the world around me moving past that helps me to feel still with my thoughts. I need this right now, to be able to sit with my thoughts about actually moving to another country. ( Yes, I'm still going with the busted up shoulder).

The interesting part of my little story so far, as I continue to commit to this idea is tonight I went over to a friends house to pick up a Road Trip compilation. Its been our tradition that when I travel, she makes me a CD for the road. While I was at her house, we talked about her moving to Detroit which spurred me to talk about moving to London. She then pops out photos of her study abroad days there. It helped to bring the picture further into view for myself, and I got to hear great stories about her experiences. There was this one photo where she was standing on a specific pillar on top of a mountain outside of Edenborough (SP?), Scotland. I told her when I move, I would go there and take a photo of myself on the same pillar to send to her. She loved the idea and so did I. I guess, Paris Parfait is right, once you commit to something, things just start to happen that let you know its right.

And still at the end of these words, my heart races.


Friday, May 19, 2006

Blessings & Complaining in the Minor Key of A

Today, I am grateful for my neighbor who hooked me up to his wireless last week. I am on my own couch writing this and I do not have to leave to go online. This has given me the opportunity to drop a class this morning, search out a Primary Care Physician, and finish some homework online without even getting out of my PJs. How beautiful is that?

The shoulder has saturated my life this week. I can’t leave the house without someone asking me about it. This is normal, and comes from both care and macabre curiosity we all share. I am really done trying to explain it though. I’ve never liked this kind of attention in my life, complete with being in the hospital in 5th grade and coming back to the class throwing me a party. Yet, here I am writing it on the blog…its all I can do this week really.

Someone asked me why I didn’t immediately go to the Doctor’s Office? I did the trying to dance around the question, and got, “You had the bike looked at immediately, why not you?”
Point taken. I’m not going to make the whole thing too dramatic, but it’s true I naturally thought if I could walk and move the arm, its best to wait for something to show up then spend money on a Doc. So, I waited until I couldn’t move the hand without pain to go. This wasn’t how I grew up. In my family, you took care of business as it happened. As I get older though, the less I like to go to doctors. I really was more worried about the prognosis of the bike then my own frame.

I mean, come on, health care today?! Phh. Who wants to do the work of going to a doctor? But, I am in the process today. Thanks to my neighbor who is scoring a thank you card and a free bag of coffee, I searched out a PCP who I might like. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I see her on Monday.

Now, I need to go and problem solve my trip next week where I am expected to lift boxes.

Okay, I am officially done talking about the accident, the shoulder, and the aftermath.

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Life Lesson: Its In How We Tell Our Story

Its early. I was suppose to go to a meeting this morning, but it was canceled. So, I’m sitting here wondering what I can do. Once I am up, I’m up.

Oh, an update. My shoulder is busted up. I did something to the AC Joint…Its not dislocated but off a nudge…the ligament is slightly torn…anyway, I have to keep it immobile for a few days. Then no heavy lifting for a few weeks. I breathe through this. I’m in much pain, having opted to not take heavy pain medication. I just couldn’t take anything in my life right now to inhibit my thinking process. I am taking the regular over the counter stuff. I’m sad I can’t ride my bike this week and that I feel limited in what I can do in my world, but it will be fine. Not overdosing pain inhibitors means the pain will go away faster too. I hope.

I think I am more embarrassed that it all happened, then struggling with the aftermath of it all. I mean I will do what I got to do. Its just telling everyone who sees me over and over again what happened can be hard. Though I do admit, if I can tell the punch lines just right and get a laugh, I feel like I just won gold.

I think it’s important to remember how we tell our own personal narratives in life. I mean take a crowd of people witnessing an incident. Though you might get a common string among them, the variations are more pronounced. Personal narrative gives us a chance to make any story our own. How we tell our own story of things is just as important as the actual story itself. Those who can speak of themselves with light in their voices can see the path in the dark. I just made that up, but doesn’t it sound cool. If you ever want to change things in your life, start by analyzing your narrative. Do you find your always burden with others needs? Are you always trying to work things out? Like a book, does it sound like a good story, sad story, dramatic story, self-preservation story, fun, or what? What do you tell yourself at the plot changes of life? Then never assume it’s someone else who can change the plot line. Rather, look at all the ways you built this plot for your own life. Go from there. Its never easy, when we try and change ourselves, some part reacts and tries through experience to keep us the same. But always try to be honest about the whole process, we are our biggest liars in our lives.

Oh, I totally went off track. I guess what I am saying is, I feel okay with the accident this week because for me, I feel like I just did a plot change. I was really worried last week about buying a new bike, after having residuals from bike accidents and stolen bikes. But for some reason, it wasn’t until I got into the accident did the fear go away. And it’s more then the bike. I honestly don’t know if I really messed up the shoulder. I have to now find a Primary Care Provider and see if I can get physical therapy. Again, an area I don’t do so well in. But in my narrative, it was important to close the old door…if I am afraid of this new one, how can the narrative be different from the past?

Closing that door last week had more power then I could imagine. The humanness in me wishes I had whispered the decision, as though the bike accident would not have happened. There is this underbelly of instinct that I can’t seem to shake that says it manifested many of the incidents in my life. Then again, I wouldn’t have a sweet ride waiting for me. Then again, the tension from the fear of getting hurt was already there, built up and gaining pressure. One way or another, it was going to find release. Besides, me buying a bike does not have that much power in this world, right? And here I am, hurt shoulder, sore knee, bruised ego. Why do I feel so good about myself? The accident released pressure for me, no more worries about an accident. I am okay, yet I need to make an effort to continue towards okay. Why do I feel like this accident changed more then this fear of falling off my bike?

Ah, but the universe will tell me in her own time.

Tuesday, May 16, 2006

or Bust...ed

Who didn’t see this coming? Now, before I start telling this story, I am okay. No stitches, though my ego, arm and leg are bruised – in that order. I woke up this morning, feeling mighty fine. I drank my cup of coffee in my favorite chair and prepared for the maiden voyage on the bike. The rains that have saturated this town had stopped, the sidewalk was dry, and I had the new bike to try out. I had to check in on someone in the neighborhood, so I thought nothing of taking the bike out for a spin while doing my errand. Tehe.

I get less then 5 minutes away from my home. I decided to take the main street down the neighborhood, helmet attached to my head. I felt like that Leo guy from Titanic standing at the tip of the boat feeling the wind on my face and the world below me to command. Then it happened. The ratio is now 5:0. Five bike accidents and zero car accidents. Yep.

This guy suddenly decides to pull into a drive, or at least that is what I thought he was doing. I did what I was suppose to do, push on the breaks, but the breaks were not calibrated right, the front break stopped before the back, and my a$$ went flying. Imagine Leo from the Titanic standing at the helm and the ship suddenly stops front end first and he goes projectile through the air. Well, I’m no Leo. When I went flying I had no water to fall into. As I realized the motion was in place, as my body prepared to fly over the handle bars, my first thought was, “I wish I had wings.” Then as my body and legs crossed the bars I thought, “This is going to hurt.” That was about the most graceful part of the accident. The rest was me crashing on the right knee and left shoulder blade, complete with the instant feel of road burned skin. My final thought as I lay limp on the ground was “Yep, that hurt.”

I immediately started to laugh, mostly out of the relief that I was okay, but partly by the irony of the event. Here I am, the first day, first time for a real ride, and I go down – big time. AND, the guy wasn’t even turning after all.

The thing I appreciate about life is when opportunity knocks at the right time. I crashed in front of this Scuba Diving Shop, and the owner saw what happened. He just so happened to fix bikes on the side and wanted to look at mine. This was after he made sure I was okay. I went back to his “shop”, a mini garage in the back and came across the most beautiful side street bike shop EVER. It was great, fully loaded and ready to check my bike. The bike is fine…I only lost a reflector, which is a common theme with me and accidents. I guess my brakes were not aligned right, the tension just needed to be adjusted a little.

So here I am, the bike is fine. The breaks are great…now. Though I may have to have the shoulder looked at tomorrow, I’m a-okay.

I think this happened…well because sh%t sometimes happen, but because this has been a big fear for me. I thought I was ready to buy a new bike, starting a new era after some mishaps…but now I can ride without worrying about when the next accident was going to happen. Yeah, that’s a whole lotta of mystic BS for yeah, but its what I got.

I can no longer say I am a safe rider…I’m thinking five accidents and 1 on the maiden voyage usurps that right, but I’m not afraid of the accident that is going to happen.

Monday, May 15, 2006

Standing on the Edge of a Regular Day

Started my two summer classes, both of which intend to work me the seven weeks of the course. I’m game. Did a bunch of laundry and still three more loads to go. The washer was broke and I was down to my last pair of underoos and shirts before it got fixed. I have a decent landlord and an awesome handy person, so the delay was nothing more than time’s little nuances.

I still want to clean up my study area tonight that harbors last semester’s articles, books, and papers. I've been avoiding this. I have no place for the next batch of finished projects, articles, and books. Where do you little buggers go? I also want to finish the bathroom, which has gone under another overhaul in the cubby-hole department. “Why do I keep all those bath soaps people give me that I have no intention of using” is the big question of the day. Its what, 3-7 years to keep important documents...what's the time on bath soaps?

If I get my rear in gear, I can finish these projects in time to read some homework before going to bed, though I might just opt for Roseanne on the boob tube. I’m back to par. Saw my mother this weekend and she gave me some ideas to look at when it comes to my appetite issues lately…I may be lactose whatever it’s called. Sniff, I love cheese. I guess lactose problems run in the family. I'll fight for you cheese! :O), that made me smile.

I guess the last thing I’ll post for the night is I got the bike today. I road it to the bus stop then from the bus stop home. It’s been raining for a good part of a week and I didn’t want to try and ride the rainy streets the first time out. It was the hardest adult decision I had to make for myself today. It was really hard. I am glad I avoided the potential for accidents. Tomorrow is the maiden voyage or bust!

Yep, that's the exciting life of a GoGo...actually I really enjoyed my day.

Saturday, May 13, 2006

Sonntag Gekritzel: Closed For The Weekend

I found one of my blog pages translated into German. How weird is that? This is my title Page name in German: GoGo auf einer Seite.

I wonder how much of me is lost in translation these days?

I'm at work, again tonight. I'm not doing so hot. This morning when I left work, I felt absolutely crappy. I tried to get home as soon as I could, but you know how it goes when you need to be some place...Traffic and drivers who see your delay as an opportunity to speed up & get in the way. By the time I made it home though I was feeling better. I went out to watch a movie with a friend tonight and by the time I was done, I was back to feeling crappy. My throat is sore, my ears are plugged and my stomach keeps feeling tighter and tighter. Its that tightness that is a procursor to the involuntary convulsions of stomach-eruptous. I can handle many things in life, but vomit is not one of them. Its my kryptonite. I say this, in hopes that the deities of Hurling Chunks hear my pleas and spare me this time around. I'd rather have an alien pop out of my stomach and do a tap dance on the counter then have small chunks of bile shoot out of my mouth. I know too descriptive...its my anxiety from the increasing pain in the belly. I will not toss my lunch, I will not toss my lunch...

I hope I'm not getting sick. I don't do sick...as if having attitude is going to stop it from happening. I smile at myself. There are two ways I get sick...24 hours then all is fine like a sunrise turns darkness into light or I get debilitatingly sick, flat out on the couch barely conscious wanting my mother, comfort and care. Then again, I could be fine in an hour.

Its Mum's Day Weekend and I have plans with my mum, so lets hope this is the 24 hour version of sick. Either way, I'm feeling down for the count, so I'm calling off my entry for Sunday Scribble this week. If I make it through this shift without puking, I'm picking up some 7Sprite and sleeping the day away. For those looking for something from me, read below...its entertaining.

Down for the count,


Friday, May 12, 2006

Trying To Make Sense of Me

I keep thinking I am going to put down this page. It was fun at first, but now I struggle with what I want from it. I go internal writing words for myself to myself, knowing this is a safer place to be. Then, as I begin to end my notes ready to turn to the next page, I realize there is more to this public page waiting for me. I was working on the next Sunday Scribble today, trying to find words that fit. I decided to search through old writings to see if something could inspire me…then I came across the poems below. They were fleeting thoughts between life happening, I already forgotten I had written them.

When I read the poems I realized, I still have more on this page for the world. I don’t know if my words will ever spur more then a few observers to this page, or if I will write that book that’s been brewing in my head forever. I do know writing is a part of me. I can’t let it go, so much so, that it grows bigger everyday. Bigger then a personal journal…bigger than me. I twist words in my head to figure out how I can change them into something new as a daily habit. When I share a moment with friends, always words are forming in my head to describe the movement of it – as though just being is an overture for the world to hear. All the while, an undercurrent forms of a different story completely from me, built from the world around me…I want to share it more than anything. Is this impulse, this desire what it means to be a writer?

Creating (written 4/2/06)
Born from it,
every cell in me
to grow words
into phrases
into lines
into stages
that change
the beginning
to something else in the end.

Raised with it,
a comfort
when no words
were given,
no sounds driven,
like the ones
I created softly in my head.

Forged in it,
like a phoenix
from the flame,
wings mighty,
eyes alert,
when all things
this is the one
that can be said.

Intimacy (Written 4/23/06) Dedicated to Beansprout
Finding self is an epic story
It’ll take a lifetime to read.
We all are bound for our own glory
It’s just about finding out what we need.

I found a dance between the evening and morning
Stepping between the cracks that I made.
I found laughter at Dinner tables
While sipping bad coffee.
I found truth in my own handwriting
I found voice while learning it’s all about timing -
Under impressions that doubt wasn’t gonna fade.

Finding self is an epic story,
It’ll take a lifetime to read.
We all are bound for our own glory
It’s just about finding out what we need.

In all this searching, settling down into me,
Knowing one thing, finding is searching
For a compass to direct me.
‘Cause I found out that all this genuine
Is me finally saying, I am so In to me, see.

Finding self is an epic story
It’ll take a lifetime to read.
We all are bound for our own glory
It’s just about finding out what we need.

Unfolding (written 5/11/06)
Driving down this road,
my little girl riding shot gun,
and my future in the back seat.
I catch her,
grey haired and wrinkled eyes,
in glimpses in my rearview mirror.
I know she is
out from behind.
Letting go of knowing the answers,
I drive down unexplored highways
just using the skills
I have in navigating my time.
The future is ahead,
the past behind,
and I am in the middle driving down Route 9.
My little girl has come to trust me
and the path I choose to take,
‘cause she knows there's something brewing,
something I’m gonna make.


OMG, You Saved My Life!

I totally scored points with a 13-year-old teenage girl today (um, yesterday). Her flute was broke and I happened to have two to lend for her BIG show this weekend. I know her Mom from the Music Company I use to work at and she called me because she happened to remember I played the flute once. I went over to help fix hers, but wound up letting her daughter borrow mine. I haven’t played in 12 years, and when I picked up the flute it took me less then 10 minutes to remember how to play. It was nice to play too. I enjoyed showing the kid new things on the flute. It all just kind of came back to me instantly. How great is that?

What was even better was the kid totally thought I was the best thing that happened since "My Space". I got a "OMG, You saved my life" out of the deal too!

Yeah, I’m cool.


Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Closing Doors to Open New Ones

I bought a bike today. It’s beautiful. Black, Specialized Sirrus – hybrid. I pick it up in ten days after they build it. I’m like a kid right now because ten days seems like forever! I wanted to get it today to start riding tomorrow. It was a great scene, me buying the bike. I decided to dress up today for my group I run on Wednesday mornings. I was throwing a party for an intern who helped the last half of the spring semester and another politician was coming to speak about her upcoming candidacy, so I felt like wearing a skirt. I love wearing skirts and dresses in the spring. Anyway, afterwards I had decided to commit to investing in a new bike. I had a meeting at my job in the afternoon, so if I was going to go bike shopping I had to go in the skirt. I’ve done this process before. I had bought a nice bike in the past that was stolen and knew where I wanted to buy the next one, what type of bike I wanted, and my price range. I did pay less then the retail list. I’m justifying the cost as a birthday gift to me, I am turning 30 in July, you know.

Anyway, there I was trying out sizes with my skirt on. Of course, someone I knew was there too. Ain’t it the way. I hope she appreciated a 5’11’’ dyke wearing a skirt jumping on and off bikes to find the right size. I know I did.

I bought a bike today! It’s my intention to ride the river trail everyday from my house to the Northside and back a few times. I use to do this before my last bike, a loaner turned into a long term ride, was busted in a car accident. Um, I’ve gotten into more bike accidents then car accidents. I believe the ratio is 4:0 actually. Yeah, scary stuff. It’s never been my fault and the drivers have always apologized. I had only one driver who hit me and ran. Oh, then there was the full frontal impact from another bike rider. I got stitches. I now have a dime sized scar below my knee and a permanently purple mark that looks like someone bit me below that. Again, I’m like kid proud of my scars. I should tell the story about this accident some time, it’s a good one.

I am not sure what to do with the ratio, but it hasn’t stopped me from riding. I wear a helmet and do watch what I am doing. I love riding a bike. Commuting with a bike helps me to slow down and be in my world. I get activity and feel good afterwards. It also gets me to the gym on a regular basis. I guess the more active I am, the more active I want to be.

Whatever. These words are just filler for “I bought a bike today!”

10 days and counting. :O).

Monday, May 08, 2006

Broken Clocks

Written around midnight:

I love broken clocks. They follow me through life like a puppy needing love. I was thinking about broken clocks this evening, while watching the Six Feet Under (5th Season) prostrate in my bed. My long day was mixed with minimal activity and sleeplessness. I went to see a play with three women I have learned to appreciate in my life. We all sat watching kids run around the stage performing “Just So Stories” having no clue what they were saying. It was the one task I had left in my calendar today; opening the door for a long day of sleep, yet sleep escaped me. There is no reason for it. Perhaps my mind has not caught on that the 5 months of running with tasks filling my days to the organized brim has come to an end. That and I have a big interview tomorrow – today.

As my mind wandered through periodic episodes of Six Feet, my eyes latched on to this red travel clock sitting lifeless on the top shelf of my bookcase. It’s red plastic snake skin with gold hinges and a big white face. The big white face is the piece of the clock, when opened, forms the clock into a pyramid with an empty center. My red travel clock sits above the shelf that carries my complete works of Plato and Wemoon calendars I’ve collected since the first year I went to festival which sits above two more shelves holding years of journals lying haphazard upon them. I watched how the light from the living room flooded over the bookshelf as if catching the clock in the act of not working. How beautiful my red travel clocked looked between the light and shadow that veiled me in my bed.

This clock could work I suppose with a little tinker and love, but I have come to understand that clocks eventually break in my world. Even wrist watches stop after a few months use. My Grandpa Ray told me when I was a kid that my clocks stop because I am one of “those people” who mess up internal mechanism with my own energy. Perhaps blarney from the lips, but I’ve held true to his words.

I got this clock at the antique store that KL was working at when we lived in a crowded home. I was looking for a travel clock to take with me to festival, having long since given up ownership to more traditional clocks on the arm. I still remember the day clearly – walking into the overcrowded antique store that is now a Teahouse; walking through a labyrinth of shaded colors of old, past the bird in its cage, following KL to where my clock sat perched on another’s shelf. I can remember falling in love with its mechanical existence as I opened it for the first time. My red travel clock opens like a ring box and greets you with its big white face with no pomp and circumstance.

It worked for two years then began to wind down into arrhythmic periods of unpredictability. Then one day, I stopped playing with the heart of its gears and retired it to my bed room. Seemed the best place for my red travel clock to live.

Now, I said I love broken clocks not just one. The other of my favorites sits motionless on the bookshelf in my living room. This time the clock – the sunflower clock – is the pointed center of a pyramid bookshelf. The sunflower clock’s arms are bent crooked like an unkempt mustache on a face of a sunflower painted below. A bee greets the sunflower and me whenever I look at it. I got this one from KN during my trip to her Aunt & Uncle’s house one winter break.

I went to see Bob Dylan and Patty Smith perform at the Electric Factory in Philie and came back with an already dieing love. I remember she pushed the clock into my hands while we were packing my things in a mad dash. There was a snow storm coming. Her aunt and uncle decided, against my opinion, that I would be safer leaving a day early then spend one more day there. KL and I packed my things that had exploded into her world as quick as we could, trying to meet the midnight bus. I came the last day before winter break, so I was carrying everything I would need for the trip and a month at home with my parents.

I remember as she blushed telling me all she had to give was this clock, “which kinda worked”. I remember not carrying because it had another purpose for me. I remember my sunflower clock sat naked on my window ledge trying to beat to a rhythm the first few months, and then just sat on the ledge caught between the role of a memory and a knickknack. My sunflower clock sits above more books and unused journals waiting for their day.

I love broken clocks. This is what I thought as I lay in my bed feeling more for these clocks then I had in some time while sleeplessly watching Six Feet Under.

Journal Entry May 7, 2006: First words in a new book.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

Sunday Scribble: My Shoes

I'm writing a low key appreciation for shoes tonight. Though shoes are a wonderful topic, my creativity has puttered for the night. My shoes run the gambit of the poem below. I do appreciate a good pair of soles, practicularly ones that are good quality, but doesn't eat up the pocket book. At 5'11'', I'm the type of girl not afraid of wearing a heel and prefer them when I dress up. I figure I'm taller then most, what's a few more inches...and check out how good I look in them anyway. Chuckle.

This poem is dedicated to C.H. I hope your shoes bring comfort and support on your choosen path these days.
Ode to the Shoe:

They keep us warm,
give us a sure footing,
make us look pretty or suave;
they air condition our feet
or they can pinch us with elegance.
Shoes can be worn as a reflection
of who we are -
practical wearing sturdy shoes
that do what they should,
comfortable wearing soft shoes
that nurture,
or the flamboyant self stuffed
into knee high expressions.
Shoes come in as many
size, shapes, and colors
as do people,
but we are lucky enough
to get the opportunity
to wear any aspect of them we want...

Shoes are our feets' lovers.
Its nice to know we have so many options to choose from.


Thursday, May 04, 2006

Hail to the Chief: 2006 Graduate

My Friend, the Chief, is graduating tomorrow. 3 Years of part-time grad school, 2 internships, and 1 full time job. She is finally finished.

I am so proud of you, lady. You are called the Chief because you are on top of your game.

The Chief is a good friend as well. We balance each other by getting each other's backs when we need to. I always have a good laugh with you. Though I may not always be perfect at what a friend is, I appreciate that we have taken time to learn what that is through our experiences. And you let me say things like this.

I can remember when I met you in Spanish class. I would have never guessed we would be such good friends now. Remember walking to class and talking about our days. This was after you trained me in crisis intervention 1st half. There were various barroom excursions, trips around the state (and on backroads), and of course there is always Festival! I was so glad when you and Homeslice insisted on coming to the Beach last year, making it the best Birthday ever. And the porch is quite fun!

You rock, I am so glad to share in your day of celebrating. I can think of nothing else I would like to do then, spend a day celebrating you!

Hail to the Chief.

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

The Weirdest Night of My Life

Okay, poetry is a tempermental thing. I suck unless I feel it. I might be recanting on my intention to write it all summer, but you never know. I had a very good day and it is still not done. I thought I would come to the coffee shop, write a little then go home, but peeps have called me to go out once again for the evening, and you know what, I am going to do just that. I am done with school...for a week and I want to embrace fun! I don't want anything to do with alcohol, it being my least favorite "Thing to Do", but here I go to be at the bar with friends.

I am the most awkard person you will ever meet. I don't look like anyone else, I speak my mind, and don't wait to be spoken to. And yet, I have congress peoples's number in my phone, particularly tonight. This blows my mind...now if I can harness this power to change the parts of my life I need changed NOW, I would. That or world peace...but to be honest I'd use it for personal gain.

Okay, here is the poem. Its a first attempt and that is all I will say.

This was harder than I thought...

Let go of life worries,
Wrapped up in mental contemplations.
They are what holds back
Opportunity and chance.

In my day, I went to 3 bars
And drank water,
Leaving the self to be intoxicated
By laughter and conversation.

In my day, I finished the final final,
Leaving the task a little disappointed
That the relief felt like
Instant oatmeal.
It just doesn’t sustain you.

In my day, I confirmed my travels
Down route 9 to Grandma’s house…
For a movie and grave site visit next week –
She invited me to come and finally cry.

In my day, I met up with politicians
While drinking water,
Friends drunk, while I made business deals.
I now have 3 more people who I WILL IMPLEMENT
To get my agenda passed.

In my day, I laughed and sang and hugged
And talked and walked and breathed and
Listened and learned and above all else,
Embraced living without hesitation or Doubt that this is what I am doing

Its been a very werid day.

Now off to organize world peace.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Redirecting Indirect to Direct

Sitting on spring’s porch,
listening to their songs,
my mind went traveling down my road.
Checked out the pebbles in my shoes
And that gum hang'n out on the underside.
You’d think it fall off already.

The gum is doubt. The pebble -
reassurance that there is still ground underneath.
I just had a great night. I gave up studying and searching for classes. Yeah, I think when I chucked my car to protest, I was pretty convinced I was done being a student for the day. I think I am going into my final on Wednesday with all the knowledge that stuck in the nogin. My studeious side is pooped.

So, I hung out with two singer friends of mine. Well actually I went to the neighbor's house (also a friend) to return a bag I borrowed back around the New York trip and wound up spending time on the singers' porch. I missed their show on Saturday, so they played me my own concert. How sweet is that! I am humbled by the opportunity life has given me. Music is a lifeline for me. It helps me to move through me and outside myself, and appreciate this particularly when I feel stuck in myself. Good peeps these two. They remind me why I like stringing words together. I am starting to realize, most people don't care to do this on a daily basis. I just thought everyone wanted to write.

I think I am done with the journaling posts for the summer. I'm not leaving. Just moving something around. I'm going to write poetry for the summer...or at least most of the summer, unless I need to decompress some part of the day in another medium. I don't know why...its a challenge...it'll make me try harder.

Its like this: I had an artist come to my coffee group this week and we drew movement. Not the model posing, but the movement. It was hard. It made me look at things in a different way. I guess want to draw the movement in my life - in words. Day-to-day writing is like writing about a well rehersed play. I lived my day, I know what happened. I want to find those parts of self I don't know and get to know them on this page. At least for the summer. I'm sure I'll need to go back later. Below is the final poem for the night.

, a Response
I’ve got a watcher watching me these days,
lost in what I might say,
hasn’t stopped to see me,
but lets me know I’m “seen” just the same.
Anonymity doesn’t hide you,
like my words don’t hide me on a open page.
I’m just wanting to blend the scope of me
into something to say.
Just trying to appreciate the authentic in all my days.

Day without Immigrants is what this day is about

Read this. It's important. Real important. I joined the march, it was worth not doing goose chases for a nonexistent class the rest of the day.

The Saga Continues

When things don’t work out in a smooth, calm fashion, it’s best to open the mouth as wide as you can and scream. Not a wimpy scream, but a full blown primal scream until the throat hurts. I imagine Homer Simpson in the seat next to me screaming…it helps to keep perspective.

Things are not going well so far today with my school scheduling. Murphy’s law has strapped itself in on the passenger side and wants to go for a ride. If the school of social work says the class opens today…they don’t mean today, they mean the proximity of today – maybe tomorrow, but definitely not the next. I need this class to get financial aid and in order for it to be dispersed on time I need it today. Right here, right now my stress level is slowly rising. Breathe…just keep breathing.

But please don’t worry for me. I have taken Ole Murphy’s challenge and grabbed this monster of a dilemma by the horns. If the system doesn’t work, work the system. I have scheduled a dummy class. Yes, I am taking a random unimportant class, so that the student billing department thinks I have the credits to get my financial aid. Insert smirk. I have even taken the extra step of waiting 10 minutes to talk to a human in the accounts department and with the nicest, most sincere voice asked for assistance. The wonderful person on the other side was more the willing to help. My financial aid has been approved and I should receive it by Friday. Ha!! It doesn’t solve the class problem or the fact that I can’t get into any of the required courses I need, but it gives me time to pester the School of Social Work.

To be continued:

Ready, Set - Waiting to Get This Done!

I’m sitting at a wireless diner waiting to schedule a summer class. It was incredibly hard to get up this morning and get here. I didn’t have to work last night, so instead I slept. When I say I slept, I mean I was out before I hit the pillow slept. This morning is a rainy morning, so as the alarm clock was waking me up the rain was lulling me back to sleep. It was one of those mornings where in the dream world I was inches away from discovering the cure or answer to something, only to be woken by the alarm clock and the solution was gone!

Insert huge sigh here.

The class I am waiting ever so eager to register for isn’t available until today. It’s a very popular class, so I am up at the crack of dawn to schedule it. The thing is my financial aid is contingent on getting into this class. Otherwise, this GoGo is going to need a 3rd job for the summer. That is not going to happen ‘cause I am going to get into the class, right.

I’m not really stressed out. It’s just a matter of making this happen. I do look forward to the relief after it is all said and done and the summer money is in my hands. Real relieved.

Other than that, I’m just studying today for my last final. Woo Hoo. Another relief I look forward to feeling. I did have an appointment with a antics dealer this morning to inspire him to “donate” his time to my Coffee Group. I have envisioned a Antics Road Show theme for one of the sessions, complete with members learning what to look for when shopping and them bringing in antics to get appraised. The guy cancelled due to double booking himself. I don’t think he wants to “donate” the time, but lets hope I can rope him in eventually. Overall, it’s a good thing he canceled. I just want to do laundry today, study, and schedule this class. Like I said, it’s a rainy day and I want to enjoy the low-key feel of the day.

Wish me luck.