Wednesday, February 5, 2014

the one where I begin to feel.

Over a month or so ago, I smashed my finger in a drawer. I was rushing to clean out an exam room's drawers of blood pressure cuffs and speculums when I closed the drawer before I moved out of the way. The pain was immediate and shooting, resulting in a quick yelp and saying aloud, "Well, that was unfortunate."

My fingertip only hurt for a few minutes before going numb. One of the doctors briefly looked at it, and commented that it'd be months before I'd regain full feeling in it because of all of the tons of nerves that got the shit beat out of them.

It's been basically numb since then, and it's been fun. Like some sort of weird party trick, I test it by running my fingertip over different textures and temperatures. And nothing really happens.

Every other day or so I feel sharp twinges in my fingertip; the nerves are firing. I'm beginning to feel again. 

And it hurts.


I've been a little depressed about my love life lately. It's not that I don't date, because I do, and often. And it's been fun meeting new people, enjoying each other's company over dinner or coffee. I've been in this cloud of dating for several months, and it's fine. 

It's fine. 
I just don't feel anything.

And the lack of feeling was okay for a while. Hell, it was what I preferred. The absense of any sort of emotional attachment was freeing if even for the fact that I wasn't able to get hurt.

I wasn't able to feel the hurt.

But the past week or two, my heart has felt this stinging, these sharp pains that shoot from atriums to ventricles, passing through my valves as it settles into each chamber.

And I feel it. 
I feel the hurt.

There's this intense longing, and I'm not satisfied. I'm not satisfied with being alone, with being unhappy. I get these borderline obscene thoughts about there not being anyone meant for me. Or no one within spitting distance. 

That there's no one to love me in the same intensity that I love them. No one to hold my hand when I'm near, and no one to squeeze it when I'm scared. 

And it hurts.
And I can feel.
And I'm alive.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

the one where i became a movie star

the summer when i was eight years old, sandwiched by the youth of second grade and the impending maturity of being in third grade, was stellar. besides the usual summer affairs of a child in the south, we also visited family in southern california.

we crammed as much as possible during that week or so of vacation. we went to disney land and rode the tea cups. we watched the fireworks every night from my great aunt’s back porch. i saw my favorite hollywood star’s names in their stars on the boulevard, and put my hands in maryiln monroe’s. heck, we even ate at our first olive garden, and experienced totally smoke-free dining for the first time.

i didn’t have many expectations for the vacation…except for one. the minute we pulled into the parking lot of universal studios i had only one thing on my agenda.

i was going to be discovered.

maybe it was hearing the story of lana turner, maybe it was all of the sun, or maybe the motion sickness patches i wore on the boat ride out to see the queen mary. all i know was that i was certain that some big time hollywood producer would be walking around the park during a break in filming the next thriller and they’d find me,

charming, dazzling, talented me.

i have to admit, i was basically a triple threat. i could sing, i could act, and i could dance. i had stunning good looks and a sharp wit. i was the quintessential disney dream. so once we got into the park, my big plan began.

for starters, i had to look mature. i needed to pass for at least 11 or 12 so i could straddle both the child and young teen roles. and mature people? well, they sure aren’t walking around universal studios with their parents and grandparents. no. that wouldn’t do. i wasn’t going to let me parents hold me back. so while walking down the streets of the theme park, i kept a solid three foot barrier between my family and myself. three feet was the perfect distance. enough to look independent, and close enough to not get stolen.


the second factor into my plan to stardom was my smile. i had practiced before leaving arkansas, and by the time we hit california i was on FULL SMILE ALERT. so much so that my cheeks strained, leaving my face pinched and sore.

the third and final step in my plan was to draw attention to my superior acting abilities. dramatic, grandiose hand gestures, over the top laughing, and model-esque poses filled every spare second. 

unbelievably, after a full day of experiencing universal studios, i left undiscovered.  i was completely defeated. my big break had come and gone, and i was staring at a life stuck in arkansas straight in the face. 

they never knew what they missed.