flagrant disregard

january knew exactly what eye wanted.
eye couldn't yet take though eye knew eye needed
so february's insomnia negated discarding sick comfort
thus march was bipolar.

april proved myflagrant point that people will nearly pay dearly
lending may so close to flash on three confusing continents that
myflagrant june secured a hit list and hid a knife in myflagrant sock.
eye was only slightly nicked.

balancing in pink pinching prostitute shoes under a space needle
shooting into seattle's july sky
eye've never been so HAPPY to learn to say:
"eye quit and don't NEED to ENDURE every hell."

in august eye lost $10,000+ in the stock market three days in a row
ha! eye can take it-- made it all back the following week --not impressed
and a lot of psychotic laughter was heard for no simple reason during
the september when eye became a paid illustrator of ridiculous ideas.
eye thought: what you give is what you get.

eye woke up in october.

one november do you remember eye got tired of the heart attacks
made cambodia look like kansas and then on a strange day like yesterday
wished for a hundred grand, but instead gosh darn it
eye won a MINI candy bar car!?

...but december's poison-tipped winter winkle pickers just felt odd
so eye shopped around for next year.

something was written here about taking the equivalent of one year's living wage, and then starting today, daring myself to net one million dollars with it in a second day trading account. the goal would allow trading until friday december 31st, 2004. the idea came around christmas and initially appeared to be a lot of work (plus i thought i'd get laughed off the internet if i mentioned this) so the previous blog entry referring to this level of philanthrophy was deleted. it is now two weeks later, i have tripled my securities account in the last five trading days (a statement which will go over many heads) and suddenly that which was Unattainable Goal #1 is an insufferable bore. it no longer appears too ridiculous. the potential greater good which could either develop, or utilize this goal will be the focus, and with the knowledge this sum of money could catalyze my illness, i will not spend one cent on myself.

i had read a blog where a 30-something author listed everything she got for christmas and subsequently deleted what had been written about simultaneously feeling appalled and fascinated. i have just ended a four month streak of practiced 'taking' and seriously want to scrub myself with a kitchen scotch-guarded green pad to rid feelings of The Horrible Want. i bet she takes everything but still doesn't have. i bet that author is overweight. i bet she uses the word 'woman.' i cannot fathom, after more than a decade of pathological restriction, a DAILY LIFE filled with thoughtless ownership. what happens after the boredom of having take sets in? accumulation? no, not me, or i should reluctantly say, not yet.

another blog entry was deleted about motherfigure and how she sent two christmas gift certificates which i specifically said were not wanted or needed and would never be used- lots of techno white noise thumping around in my head again after that intrusion. it was just a gift but don't people understand that in order for me to regain and then lead the most productive life possible, i need to go out and find a way to acquire what is needed? it can't just be given to me. if people hand me things, i'll put them in the closet and when i have enough stuff, stay housebound with depression for years and then have to start over this reconstruction when virtually depleted. so no, this just isn't tolerated. since i had declined the gift certificates and she ignored me (actually purchasing them after the conversation) i rendered them invalid and mailed them back to her [... i should have enclosed a letter asking if she has a learning disability, because it was the last strike. i will not be ignored, and family does not get a free pass when i need to and already see the benefits of eliminating stupidity and liars from my life.]

something else was written and deleted about traveling independently to samarkand (unesco world heritage site) in uzbekistan this summer or fall and hopefully getting to the other stans before heading back here to hell -- except a few days later i decided to find a travelmate, attempt a few days in afghanistan as an "extreme tourist" instead of with a united nations ngo, and then publish or produce something relevant to the trip.

another rant deleted: i returned to the blog written by the christmas-list woman and read that she has decided her new year's goal was to love herself- not take the initiative to manage her overspilling body. does she not consider one must have loved oneself already if dabbling in obesity? what if she started truly hating herself in an effort to acquire explosive motivation instead of just whining about hating her body? [note: i would not slam a person with an endogenous medical problem, someone coming to terms with the effects of a required medication, the result of pregnancy, or anything other than edacious exogenous habits. there are too many reasons a person can be overweight- that wasn't the point. these entries are specifically about how the extent of excess spreads out far beyond food and drink.]

something was to go here about coming to an understanding that most people in my life will not have the capacity to understand the comments or terms i use when describing the world i have and will see.... tashkent, baksheesh, peasant-dominated agrarian arrangement, cambodian rural communes, mafia, uxo... instead of coming off as an elitist jerk, i need to find a way to become an informative source.

then i summed up the diluted entries: i am going to make and then donate a million dollars to charity this year, travel to afghanistan for the hell of it, guess-what-i-hate-blubbery-excess-types, everyone i know is an uneducated idiot, and i am an elitist jerk. no, it still doesn't read right.

...and then one day the fattest moment of your eating disordered life shows up and it shocks you into a fugue deep enough for you to take an assortment of braless photographs reflected from your hallway mirror. you will need these photographs for evidence: someday you will want to eat some [food porn deleted] and the memory of these snapshots will keep you full by shivers alone. shocking maybe, almost funny, but it turns off what is on, and the off that was already off just blindly follows rutted and recited rituals and also immediately starts taking numerous scalding showers throughout the day in a successful effort to escalate abhorrent body issues and WASTE TIME while WAITING for the results of the endless NO. it is the only way. no trickery for you, smarty pants! you can't con yourself with a little salad plate and one chopstick, so don't bother since you can't make your itsy meal look like a feast if you know it is bitsy to begin with. NO: see, it's easy. what kind of person even tries that? no one knows to NO- they think that partially works fine. wrong. the answer is simple: fill the mind and know to NO and WAIT and the NO part is easy as NO is just no and not maybe or some, that is, until this evening when you will upload the hatred photographs to your computer and see that they don't show your body like you feel they should but since you are considered a cold-hearted bitch without any feelings you laugh at the little riddle and decide you can't really be an idiot and post those photographs online because you appear bonier than [deleted] and all you've been doing is bragging about how 'well you are now' when actually you really are well and are still just as underweight but not emaciated unless you are comparing yourself to someone else who does not know how to NO and then of course you are. only then you realize that you've won your own game on the day which included the fattest moment of your life and you finally get to eat if you want or if you can remember how to restart after all of this stopping. oh, also you've been taking speedy prescription diet pills which seem to be shutting down essential brain functioning, but don't worry, no one will ever figure THAT out.

happy holidays. i'm bored too, and blurry.

"...your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, mr. grinch..."

apparently it is the thought that counts, but i have yet to see any actual thought. all i see is desperation and the fallacy of obligation. no one really wants pre-holiday wrapped stankleberry scented body lard from the bath and body works shop- or do they? i don't value people who send me aroma bomb candles in colors not found in my home any more than those who did not. i wish more of the population would switch over and stop the tumultuous irrelevancy of the holidays and instead have a laid back week.

nobody i know wants anything and they wouldn't appreciate purchased tokens of seasonal commitment. i sent out holiday flower assortments to my families, have openly given away all bath and body gifts received to people who could never buy frilly potions for themselves, and i have left the pre-selected caring-in-a-box for the rest of the world to pick over.

holy hell, i just sold my day trading stock +21% from the opening bell.
... and the depressed mood still exists.
people i did not even know existed have brought me christmas gifts.
people in quaint norwegian towns have looked forward to meeting me.
one said: hello. one said: wow.
i should be better than wow.
unless wow meant more doggish than i thought.
bitter: today is turning into more of a yikes.

people are thinking about me.
make them stop!

continental airlines, 'business first' international service
ewr newark new jersey - osl oslo norway

[en route to bergen, norway]

fly now, good bye now, i know you don't understand. the blue arctic is lovely in concert with a blazing orange sunshine. oh, holidays, smorgasbord, and other spreads of difficult foods-- the smile on a sami reindeer. lilting voices whisper as bunbury's ghost eerily flickers in the shadow of pop rocks on a nordic hearth.

here i venture to visit relatives and am overwhelmed with disgust at the confliction this celebrity will cause. people love me a bit too much. i get tired of being paraded around their small town. why maintain a frozen smile in the face of their small lives? why not insult their complacency since it maintains their reduced financial situation? why not discount my arrival and chalk up their excitement to a photographed life?

"it can't be me. all response results from what i have become. if i hadn't been in fashion advertisements, would they care about me? do they care or even relate me to anything more than fame or the material goods i can provide them?"

i feel embarrassed to own the competence required to undertake all obligations of a foreign christmas-- especially, as is this case, where the visit presents itself in the face of the disorganized.

an expensive flight to scandinavia is a 'chance in a lifetime' experience for some people. this fact is compounded by the ration of money/time spent abroad. my family looks at my enormous life as 'special' instead of adopting the perspective that they could have gone out and produced the same results.

although it is always stated to have happened on christmas eve, it was actually thirteen years ago today that my passenger and i walked away from a horrible car accident. after dropping invalid friend off at the glendale galleria this afternoon, and then driving home in the rain-slowed holiday traffic, it came back to me. coming to an abrupt stop, after slamming my favorite sporty pocket rocket over the embankment, was suddenly the worst moment in my life. lingering upside-down, and only slightly banged up, we hung by our seatbelts, clueless as to what was about to happen next.

me: "are you okay?"
us: "oh my god!"
him: "no, i'm fine!"

we said each phrase seventeen times each in under three seconds, somewhat hugged, laughed, and sighed because it was going to be fine. after our initial relief, the car suddenly creaked and strangely started to tilt. it slowly flipped once, twice, gained speed, and then repeatedly rolled over until it was stopped harshly by the trees at the bottom of the deep ravine.

though the weather was to blame, it was on that day in which i note to have made my second worst decision ever. lucky me, my stupidest maneuver in life the following year never cost anything.

[...and now i cannot wash this from my thoughts. the passenger, i wonder where he is now? there was blood but we could not find the cuts. neckbraces, oxygen, ambulance, leopard print undergarments. superficial lacerations, the nurse insisting that one of us call our families instead of her... his father purposely swishing the tail of his yellow sports car around in the parking lot when he drove us home...]

i joke about the pleasure received when picturing old unloveables in harm's way, to the point one must wonder if i have an amputation preoccupation. yes, i admit to saying many times that the best revenge (for the someone who purposely enabled my eating disorder to fulfill his own fetish) will come after calphalon cooking, masticating, and subsequently excreting him. that visual is not as real or true as it feels. in the hospital with a flurry of uniformed staff, gulps, chokes, grasps, and the metallic screech from the yanking of emergency room curtains around, i couldn't stand to see my automobile passenger in pain.

[flight: san jose juan santamaria, costa rica SJO - newark liberty EWR]

a sporty, salt-and-pepper haired, 49 year-old is standing in the aisle, pouting. he is making a scene over the lack of space in the aircraft's overhead storage compartments. since there are only two people in the business-first cabin where the exhaustive sighing is trying to spark attention, all attempted focus seems to be failing.

no, not true.

our flagrant sits wondering if the snotty luggage bin comments are rebounding off of her jacket or squarely hitting her in the chest. is she supposed to respond to him? anxiety steps in when flagrant considers the over-the-top impossibility that sporty guy thinks she managed to take up all six overhead bins with her only one out of two allowed carry-on bags.

no, stop it. people are not that thick.
relax.
everything is fine.
flagrant calms and returns to earth.

"is this all of your stuff," sporty guys asks.

flagrant's tablet of paper drops to the floor as her head explodes, and as she quickly reassembles herself, blindly grasps at restraint.

"you'll notice all of the stowed baggage in these bins have continental crew luggage tags. you'll remember that i was the second passenger to board the plane-- right behind you."

"oh, i thought they let you bring more than two bags and--"

flagrant thinks: christ guy, you win. congratulations, you are the dumbest ______ i have met today.

"sorry, what?"

"ah! the crew's just trying to, uh, ruin your day!" [--pleasantries, chuckling, and friendliness go here --] flagrant thinks about the darwin awards, how sporty guy has managed to live so long, and how the word 'muck' may be too obvious a choice to replace in future face-saving sentences.

[skip ahead: a mechanical voice falls from the sky.]

""continental flight attendants are committed to providing you with the utmost in comfort and safety. on today's flight we--""

bzzz... wrong answer! the flight attendant training program for this company stresses safety first and foremost, not comfort. tsk, comfort and safety? it's all lies.

[skip ahead: it's time for a flight attendant with a list to approach.]

"miss flagrant, i'm joseph and i will be providing your service for today's flight. for our lunch service, if you care to join us, we have the bow-tie pasta tossed with mushrooms, green asparagus, julienned carrots accompanied by grilled scallops and shrimp, topped with fine herbs and sauce plus freshly grated parmesan cheese or we have THE BEEF." honest to god, he left it at that-- THE BEEF.

our flagrant casually bends her nose at the multitude of choice responses to 'sentence #1' and also wonders why the sauce needs no adjective when there are three billion varieties known to man. instead of going for the vulgar innuendo, she decides to kick it down to third gear for forceful throwback torque where she then smoothly breaks the limit.

"i am positive your passenger manifest shows doctor, not miss." [--something gracious or stupid from flustered flight attendant goes here--] our bitchy flagrant, who is now in the same asinine category as sporty guy, just nods, shrugs, and feigns disinterest. in no way does she want to accept a meal, but needs to even if it goes untouched, and this odd verbal exchange is an intentional distraction.


obligatory airline meal service, continental airlines
sjo san jose juan santamaria costa rica - ewr newark libertybusiness first international class

the flight attendant has just finished turning into a recited menu: ""...begin we have warm roasted nuts served with cocktails, your choice of wines, beverages, or margaritas followed with chilled shrimp and smoked grouper accompanied by a chili sauce. a contemporary salad blend of romaine lettuce, lotto rossa, frisee and radicchio with tomato, red onions and artichoke hearts is offered with parmesan peppercorn dressing. freshly baked rolls with butter and for dessert, vanilla ice cream with strawberries or a chocolate topping.""

flagrant considers the not-milk does anyone ever want-milk dairy-ice-cream but it's-not-vegan rice-dream conundrum and then did a double take. an illusory anorexia fractal, or possible hallucinatory manifestation, had taken the empty AISLE B seat which she had complained about yesterday. then, it started talking:

"take the ice cream now because when i visit in january, i am actually going to move back in. i'll only allow you bottled water or feedings via intravenous fluids. calories won't even dare touch your hands next month. dissect the roasted nuts too, and find a prime number-- they're warm. do it because i am certain you will never be eligible to digest anything similar for the rest of your life."

flagrant blinks but everything stays the same.

"c'mon, at least stir the ice cream sundae. remember, it's forever this time."

"what about the 'when i am on an airplane i must accept the tray' clause or 'but i am at an art reception, must act normal and at least swish the glass' exception to the rule," flagrant asks.

"you are allowed [-example of 80 controlled calories deleted-] at narita-tokyo," says the illusion.

"yeah, when am i going there?"

"that's what i said when i made that exception back in the year 2000! i didn't think you'd have traveled through japan six times already."

"i didn't even take advantage of the narita food unit exception last time... and you, you seem so familiar... your voice... evil... something..."

[skip ahead]

outside the coastline turns to cerulean blue caribbean, dotted with swirly mint-colored islands and their rosy peach beaches.

"what are you doing," asks flagrant's dissociative illusion.

flagrant thinks she is obviously looking out of the airplane window and therefore does not find any strength to answer.

"those white lumpy clouds look like cellulite."

"oh my god, REX!"

"yes," said anorexia.

"oh, primary anorexia nervosa without an obvious spectrum friend. well, i haven't seen you alone in ages. i thought you were just a temporary vacation metaphor."

[skip ahead]

REX: *poke*
flagrant: ouch! what?
REX: see, if you were thinner, that wouldn't have hurt.
flagrant: no. it would have hurt more.
REX: no fat equals no indentation, equals hard as bone, equals nothing on the body to scrunch. it must therefore equal no pain.
flagrant: more pain.
REX: damn, what is this 'truth' crap you've got going on now?

[skip ahead]

REX: so? dairy?!
flagrant: bleh.

REX: well...? was it good? premium ice cream?
flagrant: this is a delicate, delicate stress.
REX: ice cream looks just like those clouds.
flagrant: pfft.
REX: what?
flagrant: like old times-- the ice cream equals an off white color and easily summons the idea of clouds. cellulite is the equivalent of an off white color and could also relate lumpy clouds. ice cream can therefore equal symbolic cellulite even prior to the addition of the concept of food. i forgot, see, ice cream could never really taste like stress. it's flavor honestly only reveals a sour vanilla algebra. ha ha ha. same old silly connections and warped riddle. how did i ever forget that?
REX: very good, but this is the advanced course, dummy. skip ahead. white foods equal NO. c'mon, catch up.

[irazu, costa rica]


antiseptic transportation- costa rica

we are probably the only two travelers who ever meandered around costa rica from north to south without spotting either a monkey or the lava glow of arenal volcano. i saw a crocodile (or as they say: croc-o-drile) only because a lonely planet guidebook mentioned which river to scan. plastered like a tree frog to the window as the interbus drove over bridges, i pointed out every beached log to motherfigure, but the last one i saw was indeed an all-i-grater. confirming reptiles from a seat in a coach doesn't make up for anything... especially the part where i manage my blog from a public computer lounge at a best western hotel in irazu, after sitting in a denny's 24-hour restaurant where i watched motherfigure inhale a hamburger with cheese, french fries, and ma-m-m-may-mayon.. never mind.


flowers- monteverde cloud forest, costa rica

there will be inevitable eating disorder problems related to this last week of suffocation. i doubt the ability to demonstrate their frustration, let alone try to counter them in advance. lucky me that new year's resolutions are coming up. january, and all of the implications of starting anew will certainly be extended in my isolation.


turtles- manuel antonio, costa rica

almost every day of this vacation has been completely screwed up, but not as much as one particular night in manuel antonio. the scene involved a dimly lit restaurant, faint crash of ocean waves, and occasional sound of scurrying lizard. it should have been relaxing and sedate. my eating disorder was so internally frustrated and silently irate at a situation which ended up involving a bloody steak (in front of my infection control specialist, antimicrobial, freaking out, non-alcoholic, well-done to the point of burnt, motherfigure) and light reflecting from a glass of red wine. i don't know how to describe it, but i thought my entire body was either going to crack or implode and poof into thin air.


canopy walkway- monteverde cloud forest, costa rica

- how does a rare steak and alcohol relate to me?
- how did i get served such a vast exploration of confusion?

- we are in costa rica but she expects us to visit a zoo??
- i have to pay for both of us?
- and also pay the $40 cab fare to the zoo and back?!

"dorothy, you're not in thailand anymore." well, i wish i was visiting bangkok with motherfigure as the price points are much more tolerable for me.

- what is so wrong with eating local tico food like rice and black beans?
- why compare the san jose international airport to inter-city chicago?

...and it got worse. i somehow argued to a conclusion that my invalid family and their ridiculous concerns about drinking the tap water here (which is totally safe) is merely one step away from perpetuating racial prejudice. obviously there was more to it. motherfigure lives in an area untouched by any multiculturalism and is extremely uncomfortable in central america.


zoo ave- la garita de alajuela, costa rica

never ever again am i paying for anyone to travel with me to a place i do not want their companionship. "next time i think we will go to london," motherfigure says.

monteverde cloud forest- costa rica

[i'm still here, costa rica]
screw new york (and considering that it is snowy there and i only have one pair of open-toed slide-on shoes with me, this is a good idea), i need to go home and bitch that chuck is beached in front of my excessive plasmavision. f*ck free international upgrades, my only hobby, i need to go straight home. screw my family and the holidays unless i can travel to see them through what could be considered my only appreciation for the protection of tinted glass.

traditional tico breakfast of gallo pinto: rice and beans


[la colina bed and breakfast- manuel antonio, costa rica]
tick tock. i desperately want to blog today but haven't access to a vocabulary. what do you want to hear? more mental confusion about the promotional contest and the struggles of want/need and winning a car? how is it that i want nothing but now will own three cars?

no one would want to read ranting directed at international flight upgrades to first class. tomorrow, those continental airline bastards will fly me to newark but have elected to seat me in AISLE B when i have the WINDOW A option elected in their passenger profile. this wouldn't be so aggravating if the WINDOW A seat next to me was occupied, but it remains free. is continental not a computer operated company? what is going on? it's nothing. who cares, but it means everything on introverted days.

actually there are real complaints, and flight upgrade seating could never compare. let's start with motherfigure dropping the n-word and then me dropping my teeth in shock after it happened.

[distress, horror, bewilderment]

save it for another time- for a cybercafe in new york.

tropical flowers, corcovado national park- costa rica

[la colina bed and breakfast- manuel antonio, costa rica]
motherfigure has yet to be more than ten feet away from me at any time on this trip, so expect a very lacking travelogue-- if one at all. i wonder what it is she is so scared of, but would then need to turn that question back toward myself. she fears the unknown, something i fully understand, but have a difficult time accepting when visible in another person.


tropical flowers and other plants
monteverde cloud forest reserve

today i found out that i won a car in a national candy bar promotion. this is sick on so many levels! first of all, how to deal with the candy connection in regard to the prize? next, no one can just give me a car. i need to work hard if desiring a new 2004 MINI cooper S. this is incredible. i was even impressed before researching to discover that this little MINI S has a supercharger which can be outfitted with a nitrous package.

now, how did this happen, because i certainly never purchased a candy bar...

a friend of mine had bought and then unwrapped a chocolate bar, found additional literature scripted throughout the candy packaging which directed him to call a special phone number, confirmed the MINI cooper win with the necessary telephone call-- but then elected to give the prize to me. his generosity was done without any thought-- he just automatically decided to give me the car.

i feel weird and overrun with ineffable emotions. is this a test of want or need? i could easily accept the car-- if turning right around to donate it. am i supposed to accept it and keep it for myself? it feels wrong to do that. it also feels right as though i am supposed to accept it. am i going to cry? my body feels a bit spun around.

do you notice how this situation where i have been awarded a new car has happened after finally breaking down, doing the right thing, and cracking out of some obsessive compulsive financial habits? this is too weird. after furious contemplation about the cost and worries as to whether or not to afford it, i recently bought an audi roadster. how does the world always work out like this? it is as though my trials and grit are consistently repaid. this win functions to replenish the bank account.

this new MINI can either be kept or sold. currently in california, MINI cooper "S" models are routinely sold for thousands upon thousands of dollars over msrp. the base models hold an industry high, but not phenomenal, resale value. a short search through yahoo classifieds and autotrader.com show many a MINI S with only standard options listed at $39,999.


coastline of manuel antonio national park

well, back to relating the vacation in costa rica.

do avoid the la colina bed and breakfast until it goes through a renovation. it may just be the time of year, but the musty, moldy smell in the dark, cramped suites (due to the humid tropical marine layer) is making me sick. this place uses air conditioning wall units in the rooms, which are inferior and only exacerbate the dank smell.

lonely planet and frommer's guidebooks both recommend this hotel, but if i were to return, not only would i rather have different lodging but also a more convenient location. the local bus service runs on a schedule disjointed from convenience but does stop right in front of the property.

so, opting for the inexpensive option in a tropical climate is not the best idea. motherfigure is neither impressed with our suite, nor the rampant iguanas, but does appreciate la colina's restaurant and pool.

common green iguana
manuel antonio beach, costa rica

green parrots- arenal lodge, costa rica

[kalexma bed and breakfast- san jose, costa rica]
god help me. god help me. who is this woman? are motherfigure and i related? how is it possible that she has earned a high-ranking administrative position at a hospital but has yet to attain the level of common sense seen in invalid friend? how did she learn to drive herself to work in the morning? motherfigure seems overwhelmed and nervous about everything while i fight back the urge to invalidate each concerns.

random sample: while sitting before our gate at the houston intercontinental airport, waiting to board our flight to san jose, she directed my attention to the continental 737-800 which was connected to our immediate jetway. from out the window, a huge korean airlines 747-400 was seen maneuvering toward us and was about to connect to the adjacent gate. even though we booked our airline tickets through continental airlines and flight monitors showed no other departures for central america within the hour, motherfigure pointed toward the closer of the two aircraft.

"are we getting on that little continental plane," she asked.

no, we're purposely sitting in the wrong section of the concourse, just waiting to board a korean air flight to pusan, you dummy.

"think before you speak," my dad always said too much. why does motherfigure fall victim to the common problem of starting to speak prior to a minor consideration of thought? whenever we travel, it's the same old perennial crap. the interesting part is how her lunacy functions to tone down, if not cure, my anxieties. when she poses the most flabbergastingly outrageous questions, i sense my capacity to function, and then calm right down.

rant, rant-- i don't know how to express and release without resorting to complaint. as always, i hate "complaining" about "seeing my mother" especially when she will not live forever, and we are engaged in "that which is a chance in a lifetime" for others. in closing, it is a good thing that motherfigure's flight to houston was late and its matronly flight attendants fed her or we would have nothing to talk about.

[los angeles, california]
[departing for houston and connecting to costa rica]
after i beat my body with fists yesterday and replaced most of the psychological struggles with a physical pain, everything which was overwhelming cleared right up. it's good to do that occasionally as here it is the day after and i don't see any interest in repeating that awful scenario again.

i have the opportunity to spend time with a family member and just because she isn't equipped to travel in a way which is 110% beneficial to my construction, i am breaking down.

it is clearly ridiculous that i am about to have another anxiety attack this weekend essentially due to an impending vacation. VACATION! after flights and accommodations are arranged, and they are, a vacation should be a relaxing thought.

[but]

i have lost a big chunk of time and bazillion dollar paycheck syndrome has not started yet, therefore i need to be nothing except hypervigilant when it comes to easy-to-freefall spare time. it would be senseless to accept frivolous finances now. why shouldn't i get double the value of everything paid for if i know how to do it?

i could travel to costa rica alone with a new and improved version of less than ten seconds of anxiety a day and get adequately fed without an issue. i would view wildlife in lush desolate surroundings, but guess motherfigure is planning for the two of us to stand around in a lot of tourist queues (where she will get pick-pocketed and i will bring a story back to the blog of how i amputated a man's wiggling fingers right outside of a bus-stop with just the flick of my prepared wrist).

hmm... i felt my attitude changing for the better but if considering that my only hobby is acquiring free first and business class airline upgrades (and my travel-mate doesn't have a chance in hell at even getting a companion upgrade on the only flight we share) i start to worry about all of those invisible problems which tear me up. no matter how hard i am trying, this whole travel strain has nothing to do with my potential health- it's based on broad reaching traveler's elitism. with that said, i am just flat out not looking forward to taking motherfigure and her white gym shoes on vacation. boo-hoo. that's just the way it is.

motherfigure says: "if you want to see wildlife you should go to a zoo."

i'm pretty sure my favorite blogger is smoking crack somewhere in thailand and as for that other blog i read... well, he's in his homosexual closet with the light switched on.

"dear, i'm resting."
yeah, that's not what i call it.

here's the plan:
[diluted blogging]

grrr... bad day except nothing has gone wrong yet.

i'm thankful for not being strong enough to capture people and store their shrilly personalities in congested animal cages down in my dim basement.
i'm thankful for the ability to keep the electricity to my home turned on so i can use this computer to get out my frustrations.
i'm thankful i opened my own door even though i went the chicken route and did it in the dark or overseas.
i'm thankful that i didn't have the tools to [diluted blog] yesterday.
i'm thankful that i no longer live with the psycho who would unsuccessfully try to hide the fact that he saved all of his used condoms.

go away.

let's romanticize being optionless.
choices were easy: do or die.

anorexia says: "if you replace the outdated and squeaky treadmill with a state of the art, precor efx elliptical trainer and use it for a few hours a day, advertisements show that not only will unfamiliar people start showering you with attention, but you will also have the confidence that comes from being free from agoraphobia. with the immediate flair for trendy fashion that you will acquire, that illusion of a perfect life which could ordinarily only come from aesthetic or skin-perfecting gelled lighting, is waiting for you."

flagrant says: "i don't want any of that."
anorexia says: "this specific equipment looks like art."
flagrant says: "sold!"

on an introverted day, how can a person like myself give away a fully functioning treadmill (which is in perfect condition) without renting a truck or possibly having to deal with strangers in my home? paying the fee to rent a vehicle only for the purpose of donating property (which i should instead sell) does not compute. if i lived in a larger home, the treadmill would never be given away. i need the room, or a quiet, space saving model, so what can be done? place an advertisement on craigslist?

free treadmill [terms apply]
if you respond to this ad and tell me you definitely want the equipment, you are not allowed to change your mind. i will e-mail the directions to its location, manage to drag the treadmill out into a public area, and leave you the appropriate wrench to use for any disassembly. note: thou shalt not steal my wrench! there will be no reason for a knock on my front door, and you will need one other person to help carry it down a staircase but, there is an elevator. good luck!

today the super chest clenching anxiety caught up (i used to deal with this daily?), knocked me down in the hallway, and i slumped there on the unvacuumed floor (yuck, i never stay home and obsessively clean the house anymore.) in sloppy tears (tasted good) for about seven minutes (not ate). i thought that was a pretty good distraction considering i forgot my pounding fists, did not consider beating myself with a leather belt (it is in my car's trunk and i will lead you to believe i am too lazy to retrieve it) and have successfully fended off the anxiety and self-flagellation for a few weeks.

it feels like my life is totally perfect (perhaps) but could still get three thousand percent better (or four, five, six, seven, ate, nein...). complete disconnection: invalid friend is having problems finding a job. (this causes fear. what if there is no one to rely on? death. alone. i will have to live in my car because what if i am more incapable than he is? i must be even though i don't believe it. i could show on paper that i am incapable. my future is doomed even though i have sky-high goals for next year that are separate from my bazillion dollar paycheck syndrome. i should start collecting discarded aluminum cans...). completely disconnected from me: someone else sent me a box full of unwrapped candy (sin) a week after i said that particular (death) threat was over. (i am angry that my statements are inconsequential. thus: i am not worth listening to. the idiocy of other people's candy actions could potentially kill me. are they trying to kill me? stop thinking like this. i thought i didn't know how to extend and spin like this any longer! wait, i turned into the good kid by getting it together but am weak enough to still let other people's thoughtless actions interfere with my health. i suck and should die...). this is so screwed up. i take responsibility for engaging in eating disordered behaviors, but my assertion to counter the problem is not working- all the more reason to replace people in my life and be free.

could you tell me why people interfere and ignore?
i say: do not send me any food! i follow a successful plan and it consistently disrupts my health and begins a radical allergy/purge cycle which can last for weeks when i receive unexpected food which needs to be avoided at my door.

i can't even type due to the dizziness and darting eyes. expect a rewrite with the inadvertently omitted words and letters replaced. this blog's font should change based on my wonky omission.

what on earth do i need to say to people?
should i lie?
when those people ask me how i am, should i be a crass asshole and stretch the current truth to paint the past they didn't get to see: well like i have mentioned numerous times, the allergens you sent me catalyzed something which appears to be furiously expensive bulimia. the frightening seizures stemming from it are now causing a paranoid insomnia and for the left half of my body to occasionally go numb. i think i have TMJ. next time you send me a package which includes gluten, corn, or any other unrequested ingredients, please send the required $250 in cash needed for me to complete the psychological vomiting process and an additional $13500 for my surgeon to successfully reinsert my weakened bowels up into my ass because that is what i have to look forward to and i don't hate myself enough any longer to deal with weeks of discomfort derived from your gift.

oh, that's not going to work.

i am going to have to:
1) learn to throw food away (sin);
2) learn to dissociate long enough to get to a donation center;
or:
3) move someplace, possibly television-land, where i can pick up the telephone and without introduction just say, "brownies. my place..." and have my cool neighbor knock down my door and yell, "where!!??" before i hang up from the call.

the end used to relate to death but on the previous blog entry the end meant something i cannot clearly articulate. the end of a time period where fear, ocd, eating disorders, depression, social phobias, and anxiety were not running the show. today they will, but it feels lousy enough to be able to back away from with relative ease.

it took me a long time but i am about to reach the end.

the password is: slashed.
motherfigure is suddenly all for carrying appropriate luggage.

how am i supposed to pack and carry around my winter coat, acceptable shoes, and a pair of ice skates for my two days in new york along with everything already selected for the costa rican tropical strain.
chuck: ice skates?
me: it'll be christmas time. you know, rockefeller center and all that.
chuck: why don't you just rent them there?
with no intention of ice skating, lugging the bulky winter jacket was the focus of my concern. i hate when people flip off the anxiety switch before i get the hit or they get the joke.
me: stop deleting the potential hilarity of my situation.

worst daughter on earth to motherfigure:
> seriously, are you bringing rugged waterproof luggage
> suitable for a third world country or are you bringing a
> silly rolling suitcase as though we will be chauffeured
> around or as though the rainforest has sidewalks?


motherfigure references our last trip which was city based:
> hi
> yes, i am bringing that roller luggage, last
> time you said don't bring it and
> you brought yours.


truly considerate but appearing to be the worst
daughter on earth replies:
> that's quite an obnoxious way to make a decision
> on how to outfit yourself in an entirely different situation.
> really, consider where we are going
> or have dad install some big wheels.

luggage, not baggage, will now be my euphemism for the multidimensional levels of dysfunction which render me speechless and trip my lower esophageal sphincter. knowing motherfigure is not qualified to breathlessly try to keep up with me on this vacation, i will take an opportunity to suggest that next year she can save her own pennies, take her son, and go overeat on a discounted royal caribbean cruise ship any old high season holiday week she chooses.

do you understand how much deeper this is than just a catty conversation or do i look like i am making problems? why bother though? she will only think that i am being mean and take the luggage conversation at face value to be about a suitcase, completely ignoring the fact that i am requesting her to not pack so many blind eyes. whatever she does will ultimately have to be fine and though everyone has the right to be an asinine block-head occasionally, they do not have to right to include me in its level ten detrimental potential. i have been seriously annoyed over the last two weeks with this trip because i thought it would not be challenging:

1) motherfigure eats six times a day or she'll die so there will easily be enough opportunities for me to manage myself. why go? i should push myself.

2) i heard her mention something about the possibility of staying in hostel type low cost accommodations and self-catering just a few months back to save some money, but since she didn't end up paying $1200+ for her airline ticket and instead i acquired it for her, overpriced handheld tour buses for scared non-travelers and commercialized hotels are now the only thing she ever mentions about this trip.

3) i had to route my departing flights through houston and not newark where i could have accumulated slightly more frequent flyer miles because motherfigure would not tolerate waiting at the san jose airport for my flight to land for ONE HALF of an HOUR after her flight landed. she admits fear and says she would not even know how to get a ride to our guest house unless i do it.

4) if anything terrible happens to us, i have the be the lifesaver and if i don't succeed, then my dad is going to be very vocally pissed off for the rest of his life that i could not swim fast enough with a 160lb dead weight around my ankle to avoid the sharks.

thunk

shut up, this is nothing.

this is everything and could result in potential death from motherfigure's rigid stupidity and i have one more shot to set the stage for a culturally rich journey by trying to dislodge her head from her ass. there is no point in going if we have a sanitized perspective from a tour leader and stay in luxury resorts.

worst daughter on earth to motherfigure:
1) we already stand out as a potentially easy target for theft just for being foreign women travelers;

2) the poorest american traveler has more than the average tico;

3) picture us having to hike half of a mile from a bus stop to our bed & breakfast or up a jungle path and one of us looks like an out-of-place rich american grumbling too loudly because she is trying to maneuver her mini-wheeled luggage down a dirt road. being noticeably unprepared for where you should have been reading about only helps spell out fear and every predator is going to immediately know that you have several hundreds of dollars stuck into a ridiculous secret pouch hanging from your neck and that you will give up that obvious lump under your shirt to anyone who says, "boo." i spend far too much time formulating skin care to get slashed protecting a few hundred dollars and "i told you so" isn't going to fix that.

4) if we do get robbed, how am i ever going to get you to travel anywhere else?

5) when recently crossing the border from cambodia back into thailand, i had to ride in the back of a pickup truck with a few other backpackers and locals for a short way, to take me to a minibus headed for bangkok.

on the minibus i sat between two 50 year-old american business men who looked completely k-mart broke to me. they were trying to travel conventionally, as though they both were in the usa, by taking taxis and staying in the internationally owned hotels. by 'traveling wrong' they were spending a fortune for their falsely conceived safety. sure, i can see how a room at the '$400/night, four-star, brand name hotel' in phnom penh sounds psychologically safer than a '$3/night, one-star, cambodian owned guest house.' both of the travelers were robbed not only between the border when they were tucked safely away in their individual taxi cabs, but also while in phnom penh and siem reap! the robbers demanded $100 each time and these unsophisticated 'tourists' each gave in to the thieves. i did not get robbed and you know i am a blonde underweight female who was not dressed to look poor. on the contrary, i was dressed for the area, wore hi-tech clothing, carried expensive camera equipment, traveled with the locals, and was never harassed. up until recently, i would have considered myself to appear to be the weakest of the three of us sitting in that minibus (and the most obvious target) but instead i just sat there shaking my head and was *furious* that these two idiots did not seem to know what kind of vibe they gave off by traveling in an inflexible manner. those people on that bus are partially responsible for continuing tourist scams and robberies by holding on to their fears. they have perpetuated the generalization of who to successfully hassle. to top if off, you know they returned home and spouted off about their trials in cambodia to everyone they know. no one they speak with is going to narrow their eyes and mention that the travelers were mostly responsible. no, the people listening will just forever associate cambodia as being "bad" rather than a truly spectacular place.

costa rica planning: i am thinking that after a day or two of scuba diving amid a congregation of pacific manta rays, giant green turtles, yellowfin tuna, and whitetip reef sharks, motherfigure and i could take an exhaustive hike through the lowland tropical rainforest of corcovado national park. after avoiding panamanian scarlet macaw poachers and itching from DEET insect repellent, we could wade chest deep across the rio sirena, where crocodiles and sharks have reportedly been seen.

today motherfigure mentioned again that she was bringing her wheeled luggage along and something about wanting me to research the cost of tours.

did you mean "hire a guide?"
no. a tour.

what is a tour? is that where one wears a brightly colored Specific Travel Company sticker on their striped shirt and it costs twelve times the price to see a smaller portion of the country but lucky them, it's through the protection of tinted glass? is that so none of the horribly dirty third-worldness gets on people except when stopping to buy trinkets which are specially overpriced just for tour bus groups? is that where one rides the uncomfortably adjusted air-conditioned bus with other people and spends a lot of time hearing slowly repeated directions about meeting back at a certain time, from someone with pre-school teacher patience, who really would like to remind you not to forget the driver when she informs you that tips are always appreciated?

"i'm relishing every minute of this," i lied, referring to a situation where someone once told me my life was such i did not have the right to complain. that canadian someone had the audacity to think i should have myself firmly stuck in an office job similar to hers and because she sees no bright light of opportunity at the end of her tunnel, i should really cherish all of the experiences i consider disposable. bad form but to quote myself: i can complain because i don't consider anything that i do to be a chance in a lifetime for me... i am not in the boat where i need to relish every minute of it.

incidentally, if i am no longer needed as chuck's job coach when i return, i am planning to travel to china and maybe mongolia this winter and that trip ought to be a blistering bitch, eh?

unless you have a skeletal bmi under 11, no one cares
...and why should they? you won't get there.