or forever hold your piece!

dear chris.

this is a nice idea, and i am also frustrated by it. i did not read my bible yesterday, or today. i didn't read anything by henri nouwen, nor did i read anything from provocations. today isn't over yet.

i did pray this morning, for a girl at the law school who got into a horrible car accident in august. she came home from the hospital today. her husband is dead and her son is alive.

soon i'm going to get into the shower and pray some more. then i will undoubtedly stop praying until i get home tonight, from school and work.

i am losing hope for our community, in little bits, week after week after week. it feels like a lie i tell myself.

Five More Open Letters for the Suckers in the Audience

Dear God.

Word. I just wanted to write you--I'm sorry, You--to thank you--shit, You-- for answering a lot of prayers and making Myla (the dog, not the writer)'s cancer scare probably just an aggressive infection. Nice one.

High Fives for Christ,
Ca.....Fuck It, You Know Who This Is.

----------------------
To the Cockroach I Found Crawling Up My Pant Leg Today, Inside My Apartment.

Hi, motherfucker. Listen up. When I moved into that apartment, I asked the manager of the building for two things: the first one was for things to be quiet. With concrete walls, it was pretty hard for them to fuck that up. The second one was no bugs. I said, spiders? Inevitable. That's expected and I won't complain. Ants? Ants are upping the......well.......ante. Ha. But roaches? If I find a cockroach in my apartment, I will move out and tell every single person I see at the law school that your apartment building is a shithole.

I perhaps didn't use these exact terms. It went something like that.

Anyway, the point is, the only reason I didn't run directly though the double glass of my balcony doors, over the steel railing, and down three stories into the brick street below after finding you on my pant leg is because I didn't quite realize what you were at the time. After I realized, though, and smashed you underneath a magazine by stomping on the top of the magazine about sixty-seven times and then dragging the magazine over top of your disgusting little body until i was sure your brains were oozing out your ears, the only thing that then kept me from lighting myself and all of my possessions on fire after sawing off my leg was the rage building inside of me, you sick, sick fuck.

What does this have to do with you? Well, when I can control my rage enough to still be professional about it, I usually get results. Therefore, this letter is really to inform you that any of your relatives currently living in my apartment are going to die tomorrow morning. And it will not be an easy death, oh no. I'm going to Agent Orange their asses, and I'm not even going to do it myself. No no, I'm calling in the calvary, you twisted little bastard, and they know no fear. I have no remorse. You brought this on yourselves.

I am become Death,
Catherine "Shatterer of Worlds" Loya.

-------------------
Dear Wills, Trusts and Estates I.

Wait, what?

Sincerely,
Catherine M. Loya.

--------------------
Dear Woman Who Pulled Directly in Front of Me This Morning and Into the Space I Was Clearly About to Pull Into, Thus Blocking an Entire Lane of Traffic.

Hello. I would sort of like to apologize to you, because I didn't quite mean it when I looked at your vehicle and said "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I'm sorry, because I'm sure you sort of weren't paying attention or something, or maybe were having a bad day already, or....you're........blind? Or new. To this country, I mean.

Anyway, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that, especially not if you can read lips, which you might be able to? The reason I think this is because you looked out your window at me and waved frantically while pulling out of the space immediately, definitely not looking to see if anyone was coming on Market street, one of the busiest streets in Akron--a literal thoroughfare--and thus blocking the lane of traffic and almost causing some accidents. Did you do this because of my angry face? What were you trying to signal to me with the crazy-wave? Was that the international sign for "Turn back, Angry Traveler?" I don't know. I'm sorry about your possible ailments, and the fact that you're crazy.

Also, I feel bad about the angry words. Still. I'm sorry. Let's workshop this, okay?

I was thinking something like a group circle,
Catherine "Or Maybe Reading Sark Books Aloud?" Loya.

--------------------
Dear Katie Holmes.

I can still say "Holmes," right? I mean, the Cruise thing isn't real yet, right? I mean the name. For now.

I'm sure you're very happy about your wizard-magic baby, or whatever, and I would like to congratulate you on the little life you have brought into the world with the help of the shitcrazy guy you're married to. Speaking of shitcrazy, will John Travolta be the Godfather? I hope not. Not in the movie sense, either. That guy freaks me out. And Kelly Preston? Don't even get me started.

So Katie (is it Kate now? I can't keep up with the level of crazy in your life right now), listen. I know my last letter to you was really from the heart, and everything, and this one is too! Really! But this time I just wanted to ask you WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU AND oh see, look what happened there. I'm sorry. I told myself I wouldn't do this. It's hard not to be so yelly though, because YOU HAVE BECOME THE HOST FOR AN ALIEN SHITCRAZY FETUS PERSON, AND WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT I GET REALLY SCREAMY. SEE? AH! SCREAMY!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. See? Shhhh. I'm sorry. Mommy's not mad.

Major Tom to Birth Control,
Catherine "There's something wrong, your circuit's dead" Loya.

you've got an invitation

okay. here's the deal. the dilly, if you will. the willy-dilly.

sometimes? when i eat candy? for instance, tuesday night in wills and tonight in secured transactions i had a few skittles from a friendly student sitting next to me: i get lightheaded. what does this mean? i think it means i have to watch it. watch it with the candy. no candy, is what this says to me.

on the other hand, it could be that i am staring for hours on end at my computer screen, so it makes me feel terrible. or it could be anxiety. or, really, it could be about a thousand things, all of which WebMD has informed me about and thoroughly scared the bejeezus out of me as a result.

man, the construction of that last sentence was a real shitbrick disaster, wasn't it?

anyway, that's what's going down at the present time. lightheaded (light-headed?) and tired, and overworked and underpaid, and really, quit yer bitchin and talk about something else.

fine.

something else is that i have another interview with the cook county prosecutor's office, this time at their office on the thirty-second floor in downtown chi-town. yip. it's even on november 18th, in the late morning, and then i'm flying back home later that afternoon. i figure that's pretty nice and sort of like playing an adult on tv without being one in real life. and then the following tuesday, just days later, i get to go to seattle. now that's nice, isn't it? i thought so too.

casey has started calling secured transactions class the magical mystery tour. amen, i say to you: and how.

lame-o same-o

so tomorrow is my mom's birthday. and my friend casey's. i don't have anything for casey, and i can't really think of something that she'd really like, actually, if you want to know the truth. she's hard to shop for because she's sort of....very specific. the lady knows what she likes, is all i'm saying. maybe just a gift certificate to a restaurant? that's not too bad of a gift, is it?

my friend john, sitting next to me, is eating skittles. i also would like to taste the rainbow, but through bribery and happenstance, i managed to eat some chipotle today after it was brought to me. tacos, my friends, are truly gifts from the LORD. and mexico.

i'm in my wills class at the moment, and i'm very tired. and bored, i'm sorry! i know! baditude! but....i am! so sue me. ha! get it? sue me?

fuck, i hate myself.

not really. though at the moment i am feeling rather light-headed and dizzy. so God, i totally take that back, about hating myself. i actually love life very much. probably too much. scratch that, definitely too much. and i would really really like it if i had some more time to live it. thank you. very very much.

that's all for tonight, here at hypochondria.net/you_know_it.html. take care of yourselves, and each other.

suddenly, it all seems so clear

there's something about having met so many different and unusual people (and so many usuals) that makes me pick out my favorites and want to be friends. or close, or something. win their approval, is that it? a little of it, maybe. be as important to them as they are to me? indeed. that's a sure bet, right there.

right now i am finishing up a delicious stir-fry and a bottle of wine i've been waiting, patiently, to go on sale for months. finally! and until the end of the month (dry creek fume blanc, for the curious)!

i am starting to realize that the time for applying to jobs, real real real jobs, is pending. and quickly. pressing down upon me, as a matter of fact. for some reason this makes me think of what my professor said to me today: i'm tough, she said. and i said, i know. believe me, i know.

we had a good laugh about that.

there's something about wanting to connect, isn't there? about wanting to have a real and true conversation with someone you admire and respect that is so powerful it's impossible to imagine it not happening.

at the moment, i am learning what it is to live day to day. about trying not to come undone at the thought of the million things ahead, the things that seem so improbable just getting done somehow. somehow and somehow. there are three things i need to do: get a job, find a place to live, and buy a chocolate lab. just like that.

my professor is on a high dose of cold medicine

hey, do you guys remember bonnie raitt? i do. she's pretty awesome-city. she is! don't knock it if you ain't tried it, sucka.

my voicemail message has changed. it is a harbinger of the leaf tour, year three. time to start swinging. hit the ground running. plug in the leaf blower, put on your work gloves and long underwear, brace for impact.

thanks for your messages about the trial! i won! i mean, the judge found the kid delinquent and imposed a sentence. i didn't even throw up into the microphone once! i really had the best witness in the whole world, too. he was really involved and very kind, and extremely helpful. i wish all the other police officers i ever have to deal with could be like him, but at least i know a good witness from a bad one. i was very nervous but i didn't show it, and i even got a compliment from the judge! whew. one of the attorneys i'm friends with in the office told me the nervousness never really goes away, but the first one's over, at least, right? right!

i'm a tired bear today. very tired bear. i'm excited about not having any classes left after tonight, and for three whole days, can you imagine? me either. i need the time for lots of homeworks, though. i think it might be nice for school to be over, but then i worry it won't be at all. i know i'll miss it. oh well.

ohhhhh well. did i already mention i'm glum today, too? i am. but at least the day's almost over, and then that will be the end of that.

negative ghost rider, the pattern is full

tomorrow morning is my first trial. i've done one before via my trial advocacy class, but this is for real and not for fake. on the record. the direct examination of an officer on the stand, sworn in. the cross examination of a defendant, ditto. a recommendation for sentencing, if it comes to that. deliberation by the judge, and a verdict.

here's the thing. the thing is, it's just a traffic charge. two charges, if you want to be precise. my boss told me not to worry about it and to have fun with it because: "if you screw up, it doesn't matter. you don't have a child's life in your hands." this is true. she will be there, my boss. right next to me. the busiest prosecutor, little miss chief herself, will be, as she says, "my wingman." so there's that.

the other thing, though, is that i want to do my best. and i'm afraid i'll choke. figuratively. literally. i'm afraid i'll miss a question and lose the case because i did. i'm afraid i'll forget to do something, like amend the complaint on the record or be so nervous i won't take my time and mess up. and then it'll be okay, just like the chief says, but i'll feel awful. and i know i put too much pressure on myself, and it's not about.....well. it's not about the other other thing.

and the other other thing? i want to win. i do. and i know it's not about winning and losing, it's about making sure we all work together to protect rights and conduct things with integrity and compassion and with a quiet, stern voice. about using a voice which is also articulate. and about not throwing up into the court reporter's typewriter.

if you are prayin folk, please say a few lines for me. if you aren't prayin folk, you're going to hell. just kidding! oh boy, that was fun. what? it was!

don't ever think you can't change the past in the future

watch and see how she updates.

did you know that of angels and angles is right before diana ross in my itunes, when it opens up and has all those songs, six hundred and twenty-three to be exact, right there for the listening? it is indeed before her. but no supremes, though. and did you know, that there are a few other songs, like that one i just mentioned and shrug and one for sorrow, two for joy, and road, and! if you can name all of those songs i will buy you a drink or a nice coffee, whichever you prefer at the time next i see you, whomsoever you may be--but the songs, remember--those are very good and you should hear them already, if you haven't yet.

whomsoever.

today i meant to see the wallace and gromit movie, about the curse of the were-rabbit, which is playing right directly (almost) across the street from this apartment right here, but first my toilet had to overflow (post-flush, thank the good God) and i had to buy a plunger from the drugstore (or is it a convenient one?) (store, that is) from a little further up the street, and by then i had missed the whole thing altogether. by then.

i was just talking with someone much smarter than i about how so many of us.....and look at that, i say "us" like that means something, sometimes. does it? do you think? and why do you at all? but, yes, how so many of us are all making or will be making these decisions that take us to other places, or keep us in the places we've grown accustomed to. i've been rather unthinking lately, when it comes to talking over these things. you should remind me of that, later. and, so all these decisions we've been making, or haven't yet! why do we delay? why are we even afraid in the first place? i can say at least with certainty (certainty, even, how's that then) that God Himself has always ensured my safety, in any number of ways. but i am still afraid! am i afraid of God or of myself, that's the question i can't answer, and not yet. maybe you should help me with that. maybe, maybe maybe.

remember kate bush?

in sum: shitcakes.

the people in the apartment above mine are welding a submarine together

so it has been raining for two days. and not on the inside, either. The Inside Rainstorm (Get Your Umbrella!): The Worn Places on the Soul, Volumes IV-V. bible study to follow.

i've been struggling a bit with eating properly. not so much eating good things, because i do okay with that, but eating regularly. i suppose you could substitute "properly" for "regularly" there. in an attempt to figure out where i'm going wrong, i wrote down what i ate for the week, because people do that, right? when they're trying to fix something about their dietary needs? i have friends that do that. i always think it is a little silly though. sunday was really the best day. sort of. see, the thing is that i have these huge gaps in my day. i'll wake up and eat something and then not eat anything for hours (class, work, etc), and then i'll either be too tired to eat anything substantial (foie gras, veal cutlet, baby carrots, escargot) and just go to bed, or wind up eating something really quickly (soup, water). and that can't be good, now can it?

no. so now i have two goals for next week: one is to go to church, which is unrelated to this post, and the other is to eat three meals a day, monday through saturday. i seem to have sundays more than covered. sort of.

i know a guy who just drinks coffee all day and eats dinner and that's it. at least i don't do that yet.

now, since yesterday i didn't do a damn thing except see serenity, which i highly encourage you to do the same, i have to go and do some homework. and drink some coffee! i know! see, i think a solution to my problem with the foods is to get a real job. but maybe not....Just Eats Dinner Guy is an attorney. a partner, even. and they're supposed to have the nice jobs, right? i actually don't really know how that works exactly. alas, my destiny does not point me in that direction. the direction with the money.

but at least i have a shot at three meals.

even while i'm writing this, i have wills to read.

my life is spiraling out of control.

no, that's not exactly true. i mean more, my life is threatening to spiral out of control. does "spiraling" have two l's? i don't know for sure, but what i do know is that if i want to submit a rough draft of my paper on child sexual abuse accommodation syndrome, i've got to get that sucker done by wednesday night.

that's right. i live and breathe due dates, time adjustments, scheduling and re-scheduling and cancelling and filling-up slots with other appointments, reviews, classes, assignments, "fun," and other, miscellaneous waste. here's the thing: all of these items i check and re-check and re-write on my list? meaningless.

the point is: i feel far, far away.....light-years, even, from God. He Who is Called the Christ. remember Jesus? yeh. so do i, except He's the guy that keeps calling me amd i keep clicking Him over to voice mail on purpose, because i just can't take your call right now, Jesus, because i'm too busy making sure my footnote citations are correct, alright? God, would you please just leave a message?

see? light-years. i feel like i'm doing wonderful things for myself and my career, but i'm doing absolutely nothing for my spirit. like all of this time and energy is being spent on some conduit, except i'm not paying any attention whatsoever to the connection at the other end, thus eventually rendering the conduit completely useless.

where is that balance! is that even possible? to devote myself completely to God sounds like the simplest, easiest, hardest thing in the entire world. isn't there some sort of balance? but no! you cannot serve both God and mammon, right? no one can serve two masters! you will either hate one and love the other, or love one and hate the other. but i love God, i know that much......and i love a lot of my work. so which is it? to serve the one by doing the other! but i've lost sight of that, somehow, i think.

and now i have honey-mustard sauce on my shirt. there's a metaphor there, i just can't seem to find it.