..well, she looks at you so coolly...and her eyes shine like the moon in the sea...
...on the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey...
...Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes
Didn't have to grow
We are eagles of one nest
The nest is in our soul...
What does it come down to? These questions, day in, day out. This loneliness. The confusion. The thought that my life is somewhere else...in a country where they turn back time...definitely not here, not in this stolen nest. I long for the nest of my soul, for Home.
I'm just restless. I'm always restless...just sometimes, it's worse than other times.
...to return to the center...
...and I knew...in the crystalline knowledge of you...drove me through the mountains...
There are so few things in life I am sure of. But far to the South is Home, and I know She waits for me; I am sure of that. I wish I understood why the City haunts me, but I don't; I just know that She does. I know that over the years the need for Her has not lessened. I know that over the years the only thing that has kept me from fleeing Home, kept me from disregarding all that I am beholden to, all that I owe - the only thing keeping me even now from forgetting all that I am and all that I have - is love. In the beginning, many years ago now, before I understood, before wisdom, my childish selfishness was angered by this thwarting....please, somebody won't you take me, to the City Beneath the Sea...I resented my life. I don't resent my life anymore; but wisdom begets sadness sometimes, and this is one of those cases...how long can I stay away?...keen is my love for the City, but keener is my love for the Beloveds.
...somewhere out in the back of your mind, comes your real life, and the life that you know....
This is life: the real life, and the life that you know. And very soon comes the life that I know. My regular, every day days are divided in two: the work day, which is what it is; and my day - the life at home, the life of the creative mind, the life with family and friends, the life with the Captain. Three times a year I am given the chance to live only The Life That I Know: Mardi Gras, our annual trip to Baltimore, and Christmas. Weekends are not long enough...though they afford me brief glimpses of what I am. But those three times a year - I live for them. And one is coming soon: Christmas break.
...she had heaven...she held on so tight...a man makes a picture...a moving picture...through the light projector he can see himself up close...
...I feel like I'm swimming out to her...midnight is where the day begins...
I'm not...depressed, so much as ponderous. I've made the mistake lately of talking too much, thinking too hard, and not sleeping enough. This flesh - it is a master, and a fickle, demanding one at that. I used to be a creature of the mind, always seemed to have been a creature whose life was lived in the mind. How do I balance that creature with this bones-and-blood one now?
...blame it on my wild heart....
Now I have time to consider these questions, time and the chance to breathe and sleep.
...a (wo)man dreams of leaving...but (s)he always stays behind...
...sometimes I feel like I'm on the verge: either of madness or enlightenment. Maybe both. But they both mean freedom.
12.17.2008
...I'm a flash of light...
....I fly to hit the sky, flying so high, I look down at the sky...
So: due to budget cuts in the state, the UL system has frozen all vacant positions...including my supervisor's vacant position. >.<
Yes, I'm disappointed. Yes, I'm frustrated. But I accepted the news cheerfully, admitting that I expected as much. The Dean gave me no hope either way, and that's okay - he can't. The school has been asked to find $4 million, and until they decide how they're going to meet that, no hiring can be done.
One possibility, though, is that they'll hire me, and do away with my position. If they hire KC, though, then they'll be screwed - we'll be without a govdocs librarian, which is problematic in a depository library. I think my chances are better than hers - I have the raw required experience, and it could save them money to do away with my position. We'd only be down one librarian, officially, but we could function just fine. Carita, Dinah, and I ran this department for 2-3 years by ourselves and did a damn fine job. So it's doable.
But that means no movement, no action, no NOTHING until the school makes a decision. Which is...frustrating.
But it'll be okay. I still have a job, and Eric still has a job, and that's all good. We do alright together. :)
But it does make me want to cry - I was hoping to know something by the time the spring semester started. *sigh* I'll buck it, it's alright. I feel like they won't keep the position frozen, since it's essential personnel. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed. We shall see.
So: due to budget cuts in the state, the UL system has frozen all vacant positions...including my supervisor's vacant position. >.<
Yes, I'm disappointed. Yes, I'm frustrated. But I accepted the news cheerfully, admitting that I expected as much. The Dean gave me no hope either way, and that's okay - he can't. The school has been asked to find $4 million, and until they decide how they're going to meet that, no hiring can be done.
One possibility, though, is that they'll hire me, and do away with my position. If they hire KC, though, then they'll be screwed - we'll be without a govdocs librarian, which is problematic in a depository library. I think my chances are better than hers - I have the raw required experience, and it could save them money to do away with my position. We'd only be down one librarian, officially, but we could function just fine. Carita, Dinah, and I ran this department for 2-3 years by ourselves and did a damn fine job. So it's doable.
But that means no movement, no action, no NOTHING until the school makes a decision. Which is...frustrating.
But it'll be okay. I still have a job, and Eric still has a job, and that's all good. We do alright together. :)
But it does make me want to cry - I was hoping to know something by the time the spring semester started. *sigh* I'll buck it, it's alright. I feel like they won't keep the position frozen, since it's essential personnel. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed. We shall see.
12.02.2008
I was off-base, thankfully...
...I have non-alcoholic fatty liver disease. It's serious, but it's not THAT SERIOUS. Not like transplant serious, or meds serious. Not like my friend who has hep C and deals with the fact that liver transplant is a possibility. It's not a definite inevitability, but just a possibility. But that's bad enough in my mind. He contracted hep C from childhood blood transfusions. He's been very supportive of me and has had good advice since the beginning, and I am grateful for him.
...drop me head-first into the trees....
I applied for my supervisor's now-vacant position. I want it very much, but there are no guarantees in life, but that the sun will rise and set, as will the moon, and that death is inevitable. Pretty heavy stuff to associate with a job, I know, but I realize that there's a vague sense of dread in me - dread that I'm not good enough; that as much as I've overcome the fibro and dealt with the migraines and done the very best damn job I could in spite of the days I sometimes miss, my health issues, which I have worked hard to overcome and to not let slow me down, will in the end be my downfall; and that I'll be stuck in here, in this town, as a reference librarian the rest of my life, and that's a terrifying feeling.
Getting my supervisor's job will be change, a new challenge, something to enliven my life, and will open new opportunities. I need them - novelty keeps the blood fresh, the bones strong. And lest I go crazy waiting for the right ship to take me Home, I need something that justifies my remaining here, some piece of logic, a tidbit of reason that makes staying here obvious and appropriate. As well as a little balm for the soul that so desires to be Home, to finally be totally embraced by the City Beneath the Sea....
....sometimes I dream about places I've never been, because they don't exist. I'm nearing 30; I still daydream. My heart has some weight to it today - the man who saved my life nearly 20 years ago - in a November that has never fully faded from my mind - passed away this weekend. But for him I'd either be dead or institutionalized. Simple as that. And I can't help but mourn the passing of such a man, a great man in his own right...
...but it's not just that. My heart is heavy anyway - a keen sense, a ghost of mortality haunts me today, the age of my parents, of my beloved aunt and uncle, and the frailty of all whom I love...it's a passage in a book I unreasonably revisit. It's that morbidity in me, an Irish genetic predisposition to melancholy. I'm manic today, I can tell - sitting at my desk is not enough, working at my desk is not enough - I want to be out in the cold day, foaming and thriving, active, singing....not sitting at this desk (nice though it is, with the addition of a turquoise-colored foo dog and a little cloth owl perched on a real stick - a little sachet with googly eyes - to add to the cheer), silent, typing, thinking...
...it is almost 2pm. At 4pm I will go across the street to Starbucks to see my friend who works there. She is moving away, and I want to take her out for a meal before she leaves. She's moving back in 6-8 months, but I will miss seeing her. What began as a sense of familiarity born from my love affair with Starbucks and frequent visits grew into a genuine sense of warmth and mutual affection. She's a lovely girl, and she brightens my day, from her septum ring tucked safely up her nose, to her penchant for goth fashion discretely hid under Starbucks green-and-black, and the fantastic faces she makes. She first came to my attention because she's a doppleganger for my best friend who lives in Baltimore, and it was comforting to see her, because she made me think of Nadia...but she's become precious to me as her own person...
....I can't leave off looking under every leaf....
I came into this world singing, I think, in my soul, and it hasn't stopped yet, that singing, that resonance with the world, with the flesh of the earth, the bones of the sky, and water which is blood. I hear it all humming in music, humming in the trees, humming humming humming, and I am ever trying to nail down the lyrics, which are too subtle for these mortal ears, for the mortal years that lay on me lightly sometimes, heavily at others, but nevertheless outline the time I've spent wandering, roaming, and wondering, loving, writing, and yearning....
...drop me head-first into the trees....
I applied for my supervisor's now-vacant position. I want it very much, but there are no guarantees in life, but that the sun will rise and set, as will the moon, and that death is inevitable. Pretty heavy stuff to associate with a job, I know, but I realize that there's a vague sense of dread in me - dread that I'm not good enough; that as much as I've overcome the fibro and dealt with the migraines and done the very best damn job I could in spite of the days I sometimes miss, my health issues, which I have worked hard to overcome and to not let slow me down, will in the end be my downfall; and that I'll be stuck in here, in this town, as a reference librarian the rest of my life, and that's a terrifying feeling.
Getting my supervisor's job will be change, a new challenge, something to enliven my life, and will open new opportunities. I need them - novelty keeps the blood fresh, the bones strong. And lest I go crazy waiting for the right ship to take me Home, I need something that justifies my remaining here, some piece of logic, a tidbit of reason that makes staying here obvious and appropriate. As well as a little balm for the soul that so desires to be Home, to finally be totally embraced by the City Beneath the Sea....
....sometimes I dream about places I've never been, because they don't exist. I'm nearing 30; I still daydream. My heart has some weight to it today - the man who saved my life nearly 20 years ago - in a November that has never fully faded from my mind - passed away this weekend. But for him I'd either be dead or institutionalized. Simple as that. And I can't help but mourn the passing of such a man, a great man in his own right...
...but it's not just that. My heart is heavy anyway - a keen sense, a ghost of mortality haunts me today, the age of my parents, of my beloved aunt and uncle, and the frailty of all whom I love...it's a passage in a book I unreasonably revisit. It's that morbidity in me, an Irish genetic predisposition to melancholy. I'm manic today, I can tell - sitting at my desk is not enough, working at my desk is not enough - I want to be out in the cold day, foaming and thriving, active, singing....not sitting at this desk (nice though it is, with the addition of a turquoise-colored foo dog and a little cloth owl perched on a real stick - a little sachet with googly eyes - to add to the cheer), silent, typing, thinking...
...it is almost 2pm. At 4pm I will go across the street to Starbucks to see my friend who works there. She is moving away, and I want to take her out for a meal before she leaves. She's moving back in 6-8 months, but I will miss seeing her. What began as a sense of familiarity born from my love affair with Starbucks and frequent visits grew into a genuine sense of warmth and mutual affection. She's a lovely girl, and she brightens my day, from her septum ring tucked safely up her nose, to her penchant for goth fashion discretely hid under Starbucks green-and-black, and the fantastic faces she makes. She first came to my attention because she's a doppleganger for my best friend who lives in Baltimore, and it was comforting to see her, because she made me think of Nadia...but she's become precious to me as her own person...
....I can't leave off looking under every leaf....
I came into this world singing, I think, in my soul, and it hasn't stopped yet, that singing, that resonance with the world, with the flesh of the earth, the bones of the sky, and water which is blood. I hear it all humming in music, humming in the trees, humming humming humming, and I am ever trying to nail down the lyrics, which are too subtle for these mortal ears, for the mortal years that lay on me lightly sometimes, heavily at others, but nevertheless outline the time I've spent wandering, roaming, and wondering, loving, writing, and yearning....
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