Almost Interesting

In a show of kindness, the CEO of the company at which I work decided to get everybody in the office ice cream today. There was also sorbet, meaning that I would not be left out. Unfortunately, the only thing with which one could eat the frozen treat was a cone. So I picked out the cake cone (for the 20 calories, of course), some mango sorbet, and went to town. It made me happy that I was remembered, and that it was tasty and I could try to socialize with some of my coworkers.

You see, where I work there aren’t many women. There are six altogether, and only four of us work in any technical capacity. For once, I wasn’t self-conscious about this, and simply was enjoying myself.

Ram watched me. He started laughing loudly.
“What?”
“Stop that!”
“Stop what?”
He laughed some more.
“What? I’m just eating sorbet.”
“Come on, stop it already!”
And then I remembered myself. I can’t simply be me, I’m not a human being at all. I’m a woman. Not just a woman, but a filthy, vile wretch. People stopped making eye contact with me. I am a shameful creature.
“I’m going to my desk.”

I returned to my desk and started snapping the fresh, supple rubber band around my wrist until it broke. I’m a woman, so anybody who wants to own me does. I have no choice in the matter. When a foul-smelling old man at the hospital gropes me, people avoid eye contact with me all the same. I am the one at fault, I am a filthy thing whether I like it or not.

Tonight I was supposed to go to the Distant Worlds 2 concert with Roman and his mom. Roman’s mom has been dying to go to the symphony or the opera for YEARS – after Ro bought the tickets for tonight, she bragged for ages about it. Now Roman says she’s claiming she was drunk when she accepted and didn’t really want to go. Bullshit! She was at work and entirely bubbling with joy at the idea! She was avoiding me. Obviously. I asked Ro to take her, and instead he gave away his tickets and tried to lay a guilt trip on me.

If it had been Roman who were polyamorous and I wanted a divorce, people would look at me and wonder what it was that I had done wrong. Too fat. Nags too much. Too clingy. Something. Because it’s me, I’m a horrible, vile thing. People who once professed love for me and promised me that no matter what happens I’ll always be family won’t even come near me. I’ve committed the greatest sin there is: being a slut. I don’t want to be a woman, I just want to be a human being.

The Book of Joshua isn’t particularly interesting, though much more heinously bloody than all previous. It recounts the string of genocidal conquests into Canaan which occurred between the death of Moses and the death of his second-in-command, Joshua. Of the people found there, God orders all of them put to death without exception. Of course, exceptions are made about which God is peculiarly silent.

In chapter 2 two Isrealite spies are aided by Rahab, a treasonous resident of Jericho. Rahab is either a prostitute or an innkeeper, about which the NIV is unsure. (Seems like a fairly big difference, yes?) She aids the spies in exchange for her and her family’s lives. After a successful campaign (the one where the city is marched around for seven days and all the walls fall), she lives among Israel. This story confuses me. So God commands destruction of all the people of Canaan without exception, yet exceptions are allowed?

Chapter 7 shows the inconsistency of these edicts. A man named Achan looted a few items during the conquest of Jericho, all of which was to be destroyed. After suffering a minor loss in Ai and some others dying of sickness (revealed in 22:20-22), Joshua is told that it was because some among them secretly sinned. (Sure, all bad things that happen are punishment for sin. It can’t be that you weren’t adequately prepared. Noooo. Joshua also preemptively blames intermarriage for military failures in 23:12-13. What about everybody who will marry a relative of Rahab?) Upon interrogation Achan confesses and is punished with death for himself and his entirely family, again directly acting in opposition to Deuteronomy 26:16.

I was impressed with the Gibeonites, a group of Hivites, whom deceived Joshua in chapter 9. After they heard of the fates of Jericho and Ai, some men were dressed shabbily and sent to meet Israel in order to forge a treaty. They claimed to have come far away and proffered their shabby wares as proof. (Smooth!) They are believed, God is not consulted nor does he intercede, and a peace treaty (sworn by the God of Israel) is made. Shortly thereafter the ruse is discovered and all Gibeon LOLs at them. Just kidding, they become the Israelites’ slaves. Um… good going?

In the next chapter occurs the other memorable scene from the Book of Joshua: the Sun stands still. Of course, nobody – apparently even God – knew that the Sun was stationary (Well, not really, but I’m sure God didn’t know this either.) and that the Earth turns and revolves around it. And when, as logic would dictate, the Earth stood still (perhaps the genesis of this term) gravity was not noted to have suddenly decreased. Also no word was of how hot the Earth – especially in a desert place like Canaan – became that day. Surely even an ignorant such as the author of the Book of Joshua knew the relation between the Sun being “up” and the temperature rising.

In chapter 20, the rules for people acquitted of murder are changed or contradicted. In Numbers 35:24-26 the person in question must remain in the Levite city until the high priest dies, but Joshua 20:6 states that they may leave upon being cleared of the charge. Though I do not complain about laws becoming more just, it does bother me that they are not constant. If their god is perfect, ought not these laws remain the same for more than some fifty years? (It’s not as though their society or technology improved much during the interim.)

Chapter 22 relates the anecdote about the tribes East of the River Jordan erecting a replica of an altar in order to remind those there of their god. The Western tribes get upset thinking that they had resorted to idolatry (which is likely given that these people have a history of worshipping new gods just two weeks after the old becomes occupied with other work [Exodus 32:1]). This was very funny to me because isn’t that exactly what a graven image/idol is? Surely people even back then were not stupid enough to think that the little statue got up and did the bidding of worshipers while nobody was looking, right?

The whole book is about genocidal military conquest, misplaced blame, stupidity, long lists of non-Israelites murdered, and more long lists of land allotments (upon which other people still live). The pervading themes of Joshua are the bigotry and smallness of the Israelites and of their god. “Thou shalt not murder” (Exodus 20:13) and other commandments clearly only apply to Israelites (who have not incurred magical wrath) and those whom curry their favor. My reading thus far has only strengthened my conviction that even if magic and all that nonsense could be real, a god like this is not worthy of worship. Any just-minded person would certainly rather spend eternity in Hell than with a monster like Israel’s God.

I usually stop writing when things really start happening to me. Now is no exception. Who has the time to write when they’re so absorbed with their changing lives? Of course, it would make for better documentation later on if I wrote about it on the way, but my blog is the last thing on my mind in times such as these.

Pam and Jenny came to visit me from March 1 through March 8. Pam brought a ton of my boxes of childhood things: things I can’t bear to throw out but can’t stand to have taking up my space. *grumbles* To make a long story short, Jenny played video games or listened to her headphones all the time whilst Pam talked about her three favorite things: How dumb Jim is, how great she (herself) is and the whole Matthew & Jenny drama. No wonder Jenny kept herself distracted. There was one altercation on (I believe it was) the 3rd when Pam wouldn’t stop talking about the Matt & Jenny drama, so I forced her to read my blog post Victims & Villans, after which she made a feeble attempt to make me think she was going to leave first thing the next morning by asking Jenny to immediately inform her of her awakening the next morning. I confronted Pam and it turned into this big, stupid, ugly thing until 1:00AM with Jenny crying because Pam told her that I didn’t “believe her.” All Jenny said in regard to it all was, “It’s true.”

Later in March, I came home to a card on the door instructing “Sara” to “call me.” The front of the card was “Daybreak Investigations.” Yeah, they found me and it was time to give up the car. That car made me feel guilty every day and I wanted to give it back, but didn’t really know how. Now, there’s been no contact at all with me and I’m (foolishly) hoping that it stays that way. I started riding my bike for the nine mile trip to and from work. The extra excersize made my appetite go crazy and I started eating again. The bike ride made my butt hurt unbearably and I was all nasty and sweaty when I got to work, so I started riding the bike only to Safeway and rode the bus to work. Yay for the two-hour commute.

I stopped riding that bike to work last Friday, however. I quit my job. You see, Roman and I had been planning on living in San Francisco someday, but we didn’t think the opportunity would present itself so readily. Roman started applying for a job at some San Francisco hotels and got a job at one near 7th and Market St. We got a studio apartment in “The Tenderloin” for $750/month which includes all heat, water and garbage. Without paying for the electricity and gas for the washer/dryer, water heater and heat, I don’t think that our electricity bill will be near as cumbersome as it was in Rohnert Park. Our apartment is small but it’s very comfortable. Both Roman and I agree that we never slept this well in Rohnert Park, despite the constant car sounds and yelling by people loitering in the streets. The only thing that bothers me about our new home is that I feel that the floor isn’t exactly level and when I sit at my computer, it can feel it keenly.

So what am I doing? Well, Roman and I have decided to start our plan. That is, I will go to college first as Roman works. When I finish and get a job, we switch off and he goes to school. When we’re both finished, we buy a house and have kids. I figure we’ll be ready for kids by our mid thirties. All the better – who wants to be young and poor with kids? Roman works now and I will start school in June.

Now to figure out how to burn a whole month.

My job kind of has me down lately. I have a peon job where I sit in a gray cube doing miscellaneous clerical tasks all day long. It keeps a roof over Roman’s and my heads but that’s about it. It’s not really the work that is getting to me; I don’t mind it all. I never lament a Monday nor wish for a Friday nor get up and wonder if I should call out. It’s just that I seem to make so many mistakes in performing my monkey-job that it is beginning to get to me.

There’s someone in this department who claims that my Baby Magic Baby Lotion is bothering her. Hello? This is baby lotion. They put it on babies because they’re sensitive. You don’t have the constitution to withstand baby lotion?? How do you handle going outside in the morning or taking out your garbage? Honestly, some idiot here is just trying to spite me and I don’t know who because whoever it is keeps going to my supervisor to complain. I’d go ahead and stop wearing lotion until my hands bleed and then wave it in my supervisor’s face, but I just can’t stand the feeling of dry hands. I’ve been using the stuff they have in the fax/mail/food cubicle just to get me through my day but it’s so greasy and this “unscented” crap smells somewhat like bacon. It bothers me. Maybe I should complain?

Speaking of bacon, my office is having another catered breakfast buffet on Monday. I grimaced at this announcement. I feel like an utter brat to hate these people for such an expensive office gift, but think of what they’re doing to their employees! They’re rewarding them with food! Doesn’t this strike anybody but me as bad?? When you reward people with food, they associate eating with good feelings and accomplishment. Do some of these people have any idea how hard it is to break that psychological pattern? It took me months of intense suffering to do so for myself. Also, said breakfast is replete with eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, sausage links, pancakes, butter, syrup, milk, orange juice and all other sorts of high-calorie things. They never serve any fruit or water. What’s worse is my new desk is very close to where they always set these buffets up. I’ll have to smell it and listen to everyone talk about it from my desk. These people really want to torture me, don’t they?

Elizabeth, my immediate supervisor, brought bagels for everyone to enjoy today. Bagels are my kryptonite. Like I’ve mentioned before, there’s a cubicle dedicated to placing our contracts to be processed, mail and other such things. This is always the place where they put food and drinks. I have to go into this particular cube between 20-30 times per day. I’ve made my anorexia quite clear to a few of my coworkers and yet they insist I eat this stuff. I’m fat, stop pushing food under my nose!

I’m 45 lbs down from my starting point 4 months and 1 day ago: still ugly but feeling better. In a strange twist, Roman and I have actually been planning to go to Olive Garden tomorrow. I complain about people at work trying to make me to eat but I’ll go to Olive Garden. I’d think myself a hypocrite if I hadn’t been restricting my calories more so in order to save enough to spend on eating there. It’s better, I think, to eat a little of what you love than a lot of what you don’t. Don’t you agree?

I’ve been here in Rohnert Park, California for two months and a week now. I’ve done much and nothing at the same time. I got drunk for the first time, I got a job and I’ve turned around long enough to realize the bridge between my family and I is ablaze. I wish I’d have written about these things earlier so the memories were fresher and more detailed. I’ll do my best, at any rate.

The Cherry Jar Filled With Bicardi 151
On New Year’s Eve, Roman and I went to Daly City to spend the holiday with his friends. They are sweet, intelligent, lovely people. I sincerely like them. We went to Yoshi’s house (one of Roman’s friends, in case you’re not following me) and abstained from drink until we were playing Street Fighter Third Strike in the kitchen. Roman’s friends were loading him up on hard lemonades which he didn’t seem to be enjoying. (Later I found out that he had already had a few shots of something or other and had vomited.) I started drinking those as nobody watched so Roman wouldn’t have to. Then I spied this cherry jar filled with a liquid, turned red from the cherries. I drank the stuff from the jar simply because Roman’s friend, Catman, said it was strong. (Yes, I’m like that.) Ugh, it tasted like cough syrup! It was awful, but I wasn’t done yet! I proceeded to eat the cherries which were too strong for anyone else. They were good, though. When you first put them in your mouth, they taste bad but then they burn and numb your mouth. I liked that. I ate them steadily. Catman told me I had enough but that only fueled my determination to eat the cherries. I didn’t stop until Roman said I had enough. I repeatedly forgot that he said that and had to continually ask him if he said I had had enough. I was sauced enough to need help to stand up for the midnight kiss. That night was strange. The alcohol fully set in when we got back to Nilla (an old nickname for Donald) and Kenny’s apartment. Everyone kept having to make me sit down. I was very amused that I couldn’t keep my balance and continued to do it for the sake of fun. My body was numb. I fell and hit my head hard on a metal stool. I had a lump on my head for a week afterward, but at the time I didn’t feel a thing. It seems I’m a bipolar drunk: I start laughing at anything and everything, then I start crying and apologize profusely about what a terrible person I am and how I’m ruining the night for everyone. I think they just wanted me to shut up but were too nice to say anything. The next day, all this was water under the bridge and I got to talk to Nilla for a few hours as Roman and Joey (Nilla and Kenny’s little brother) played Tales of Symphonia.

Gainful Employment
I was having the worst of luck with my job search. One month into my time here and still no job or good job prospects. All decent jobs are reserved for people with experience. Experience is reserved for people with said jobs. Nuff said. Anyhoo, I finally decided that what Matt told me once was true: “You have to lie on your resume to get a good job.” So I did. I arranged for Pam to say I was her receptionist from July 2002-December 2004. Thank goodness she owns her own business. No sooner did I start passing that resume around did I get responses – lots of them! The first one, and it also seems the best one, was from a debt collection agency called Transworld Systems Inc. Yes, it’s a crappy, generic name, but who cares? The woman I contacted, Kathy Danelia, is a sweet woman who sounds like a throat cancer patient and looks just like my Aunt Paula. I like her very much. She interviewed me and I lied my ass off but I do that at every interview. I don’t think I’ve ever given a real anecdote at any interview I’ve ever been at. Ever. No matter, she liked me so much and was impressed by my stable employment history that she offered me a job the very evening that I had been interviewed. I started that job on January 24. What do I do? I am a “CMS Liaison.” I sit at a desk all day and call the clients of our company whose debtors are into
“hardcore collections” (just when the letters stop and you start getting calls) and retrieve either documents or additional info on the debtors so that we can track them down. This is a rather funny job for me seeing as I owe so much money it’s pathetic. Overlooking the sad irony, I make $11, get a guaranteed forty hours a week (8-5 Mon-Fri), full benefits after three months of service and best of all: it’s easy! I really do work harder than anyone else there. The other girls who have the same job as I all sit around talking and calling into radio stations all friggin’ day long. At least I have job security, right? The days move so quickly that I may soon be wondering where my life has gone.

Bridge Ablaze
Heartened by my success at my new job, I decided that I should take into my own hands the selection and purchasing of the furniture we’ll be needing when Roman and I get our own apartment. Ikea is in the East Bay, another area code from here and I was wondering if they had layaway. I was dialing my phone card in when I saw Jim’s phone number come in on the caller ID. I know Jim: he wouldn’t be calling unless someone was dead or there was bad news. I answered and told him about my new job and we chit-chatted until he told me why he had called. Matt, my brother, has been arrested on several felony counts dealing with Jenny and the rape/molestation/whatever allegations. His bail is at $70,000. At first I was aghast. How can Pam take it this far?! Her own flesh and blood! How HORRIBLE! Jim then told me that Jenny says that Matthew has been doing this to her since she was eight years old. At this point I couldn’t stop yelling or crying. I’m so horribly torn! Matthew would never do such a thing but Jenny has nothing to gain by lying. I believe them both. I don’t believe them both. I don’t know what to think. Jenny says she won’t testify. Damn it, Jenny has to testify! All she has to do is tell the truth and justice will be served, whatever justice may be. I still need to call Jenny and ask her. I shouldn’t have stopped her when Pam wanted Jenny to tell me what happened. Then again, if this is just another of Pam’s manipulations, I couldn’t have trusted that, either. I don’t know what to think so I try not to think about it. I love them both more than anyone else in the world, save Roman. One of them is a terrible human being, the other a tragic victim. I feel like one of those stupid people in a movie who has to shoot either their lover or an evil clone! Fuck, I don’t want this kind of stress. I don’t need it. I won’t try to think about it but I have to think about it. I’m going to lose one of them forever. On top of all this, Jim seems terribly depressed; worse than I can ever remember him being. When I first moved in with him, he told me several times that if I had not been with him he would have killed himself. I hope he was just being dramatic.

On the up side of everything, I’m happy here and glad I came. I think I’ll be happy here for many, many years to come.