Thursday, July 31, 2008

It's like flying to me. Happy HNT

Gutterbutt is calling the jam behind me. I fell behind in the next picture and was unable to catch back up.

And sometimes, it's more like falling.

I love my Reno Roller Girls and Can't wait to bout again in September!!

And I didn't even notice it

For many years, I lived with a fear of public restrooms. It wasn't the crippling kind of fear that keeps you from entering a building, or even an overpowering fear such that I couldn't use them.

No, it was more of a paranoia, a worry that someone might peek over the stall and watch me go.

I know where the paranoia stemmed from, it happened once. It was the end of 5th grade. The party on the last day of school, or at least one of the last couple of days. We had it at the park behind my school. We were supposed to fly the kites we made out of straws, string, and tissue paper. I never finished mine.

Having to go, I headed to the restroom. I didn't pay attention to the classmates hanging out at the entrance, I was too busy thinking about how the some of my friends had invited me to play Dungeons and Dragons (I hadn't played before and I thought it was cool. We never got around to it) And how I was supposed to go to another friend's house after school. She had a pool.

So, I'm sitting on my hands, like my mom taught me, so I don't catch cooties from the seat, and a voice says, "Why are you leaning forward, are you constipated?" (you can't sit up while sitting on your hands! I mean, you can, but it's not comfortable. And who has proper posture on the toilet anyway?)

I realized someone was peeking. And from that day I always checked. Watched the stall above me to make sure there were no faces looking down. I don't think I said anything to those kids that day, I just pretended like nothing happened. They never teased me, and I never heard anything about it again. Thank goodness. I was lucky.

I had one other incident in the public restroom that told me that these places were not safe (we won't even get into the story of the little boy who's throat was slit in the restroom at the beach in Oceanside.) I was at the beach with a boyfriend. We had been walking around, he was visiting me while I was in the Americorps*NCCC.

Beach bathrooms, in in case you have never been in one, are notoriously dirty; don't ever walk in there barefoot. There's always an inch deep swamp of sand and water mixed with a bit of toilet paper (there's rarely toilet paper on the rolls where you need it) and God only knows what else. The stall doors are always missing, which doesn't really matter since you can see right over them. It's cold, damp, and smelly in there. It's not a place to rest. There aren't toilet seats. It's a place to hover, pee, and exit.

To ventilate these dank, cinderblock structures, there are windows at the top of the walls along the roof line. From the toilet, you can see out the hole. I saw a face briefly appear.

When I came out, I made my boyfriend go look for the peeper. It didn't occur to me until about a month ago that I may have been him peeking in on me that day. He was a bit of a strange bird.

Today I walked into the restroom at work and it suddenly hit me. I don't worry that someone is peeking anymore. I don't remember the last time I checked above the stall. I think it was recently. But I think I realized, finally, that no one wants to see my ass.

Friday, July 25, 2008

No longer a thief

I finally fixed my internet so I am no longer stealing it from my neighbors. Not that I wasn't paying for it anyway, of course. Does that mean that all the things I have been intending to tell you about over the last month are suddenly going to come flooding onto the screen? nope. It doesn't work that way for me. But I hope to catch you up soon. Maybe if I suffer from insomnia again tonight.

Meanwhile, I am going to return to all you all's blogs because I haven't read them in oh, a month or so.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

The incredible missing blogger

How long has it been? I have lost track. Frankly, I have lost track of a lot this past month. I miss you guys. I miss writing for me, I miss reading your stories. I hope to be posting regularly soon. I went on a second date, I've yet to think of a nickname. I've another bout on Saturday. I'm all moved in but certainly not settled. Work is good, the bird is cute. She called me a goofball the other day and is thrilled to be back on her perch.

I? am exhausted. I keep telling myself I can rest next week.