Hot and Crusty, LIRR and the Blue Light Special

Yesterday I was mandated by my boss to to take a flu shot. At 2pm sharp I was marched down to the Kmart on 34th St (along side with 7 other coworkers), doled out 25 bucks, and got stuck in the arm by what I believed to be a pharmacist (although may have just been a Kmart Cashier in a white lab jacket). This was done in the middle of Penn Station, across the hallway from the LIRR and a Hot and Crusty bread store with a beautiful blue light special background. My last words to the pharmacist/Kmart cashier were... "this will not make me sick right?" He told me if I got sick I was already sick before I came to get stuck.

Afterward, we had a trainer from the state come for an inservice. She is a social worker, substance abuse counselor and registered nurse. She was talking about how some nurses had filed a petition because they had been mandated to take the flu shot and believed it was against their civil rights. The trainer started rattling off all sorts of toxic ingredients that went into the flu vaccine that had been injected in my arm 2 hours prior (i.e. mercury). As she talked, I thought back to the waiver that I signed before getting stuck, affirming I wasn't allergic to eggs.

Every year for as lon as I can remember, I got sick with some nasty cold I would say I had the flu. I always thought I had the flu- body aches, cough, congestion, headache. This false labeling of my illness went on up until 2 years ago when I really got the flu and was on my back for almost two weeks. At that moment in my life I realized I had never, ever had anything close to the flu. The next year I got the vaccine and only got the sniffles once over the entire NYC winter.

This morning, I woke up and felt like the Kmart supply truck ran over me and then beep. beep. beep, backed up and ran over me again. Who's to say if I had some dormant infection hibernating in my body yesterday before the blue light pharmacist stuck me, or if this is a small dose of the egg shells/flu virus/mercury mixture that Kmart shoved into my now throbbing arm.

At any rate I'm in bed today listening to the rain outside. No work today but also no play. At some point I will get up and make some oatmeal and perhaps see what I can catch up on via Internet TV. For now, though Im still unsure of the means of my illness, my roommate's hairless cat Crumpet and I have resigned to the fact this is a day of rest.

Stillness

I've tried to wait to write again.

I didnt want to write from a place that wasnt my strongest.

I've tried to wait until I was finished.

I've tried to wait until I was healed.

I've tried to wait until I was better.

I didn't want to appear weak.

I wanted to be inspirational.

I wanted to be independent.

I didn't want to look like I wasn't over it.

I should be over it

you seem so over it

The truth is

I thought I was the love of your life

sometimes I don't know how I get through the night

I pretend that Im alright

I fight the good fight

I have no choice but to put one foot in front of the other

I know that life goes on

after you're gone

This will be the first time in ten years you're not the first to hear my song

Im writing this

I fight back the tears

but you should know I will be strong

And so I cant wait anymore to write.

all I can do is get through the night.

And the stars are glowing.

Running

This is the first period of time in almost a decade where I have really ever been completely alone. I no longer have a partner in my life, nor am dating anyone. I am left now with just myself. This has been both terrifying and and inspirational. Over the past few months I have often felt petrified by the nothingness I am currently living in and yet I also have began to appreciate the idea that if I currently have nothing, then that leaves me with everything to create.

This has been a painful transition time for me trying to accept that people have moved on from me to find another, and letting go of something I once held central to my life. This time has also left me with moments that seem surreal to my senses. Lately as I walk down the New York City streets I swear that things seem as if they are in high definition at times. I feel the crispness of the new autumn wind blowing not just on my face but through each strand of my hair and lashes. I can hear the bark on the trees becoming crisper and smell the leaves begining to change from bright shades of green to dryer, warmer browns and yellows. I seem to find myself engulfed in interactions between humans, noticing every protective glance, loving touch, insecure motion or exchange.

I have no one to think about, to check in with, to come home to, or to call, beside my family and friends, except myself.

I have taken up running in the mornings. I run along the hudson river. I don't wear an ipod. I keep my rhythm and pace to the sound of my own feet slapping against the pavement and the beating of my heart and lungs that grows stronger and harder with each step. In my head I create a state of being. I repeat to myself what ever it is that I am creating that morning.

I am free.

I am unlimited.

I am wealthy.

I am beautiful.

I am powerful.

I am in love.

I say my creations over and over in my mind in sync with my foot steps. I let myself feel what it is to just be those things. What it is like to be free of insecurity, to not carry any limitations for myself, to appreciate all of my material, emotional and spiritual wealth, to look at my shadow and see the beautiful outline of my body, face and hair, to feel each muscle contract and push me forward, and to experience complete love of myself and the people in my life who remain, my sisters, my brothers, my parents, my nieces, my nephews, my best friends.

Lately my loneliness has pushed me into a heightened state of being and as I continue down this road by myself, I think I can feel my soul growing.

Asain Tiger mosquitos

Labor Day

I spent the last few days at my sisters house for the holiday weekend. My big sister's house always smells of fresh country air, crisp laundry hung out on the line, and her nurturing and delicious home made cooking with roasting garlic and fresh herbs, or sweet baked pies and tarts made with freshly picked berries from her hand planted vines and bushes in her magical garden . I spent the last 72 hours watching how gentle, patient and funny of a big brother my 9 year old nephew Spike is to his 3 year old sister. I watched how much my niece looks up to him, constantly proclaiming "I AM SPIKE" before she does anything challenging or faces a fear like jumping over a muddy creek or crossing the street. I watched the ease that my sister and her husband have with one another, how their words and movements seem to be almost coordinated in the most natural harmony of love, support and parenting.

I noticed how graceful and beautiful my sister is this weekend, never breaking a sweat as she effortlessly entertains friends and family with the most beautiful dishes, and the most gracious and interesting conversations. When ever I come here I always have to go through an initial anxiety as I leave the chaos and excitement of New York City and my tiny west village apartment. I can spend days without seeing or speaking to anyone else but my family. I lose reception on my blackberry, I become out of reach to my work, to my friends and to my life in the city and just when the anxiety seems to almost overtake me I become present and realize just where I am and who I'm with.

Bright Moon

I met a boy today

A boy who I fell in love with

brilliant smile

graceful strut

mean sense of style

 

He is Harlem World

He is the deepest fear

He is the greatest inspiration

 

a budding flower of glass with two choices

college or prison

 

I met a boy today

viewed by society as a heathen

risks his own life for his dog

Who puts his future in jeopardy to ease his mother’s pain

Too young to understand that this choice could be her life long cross to bear

His mother to blinded by her love to force him to let her stand on her own

He is the only consistent man for her

 

A criminal

in the faces of those who sentence him without judge or jury

otherwise

An Artist, a musician, a student, a brother, a son

A beautiful child

 

I met a boy today who I stood side by side with digging through garbage with our bare hands

I am trying to help him save himself

From making the same choices I made at his age

But with vastly different consequences

His misstep is his freedom and chance at living

Mine a learning opportunity

All because of the hew of our skin and the money in our parents pocket

 

There is a difference between conditions and decisions in our lives

There is a difference in the decisions we are faced with based on our conditions

 

I met a boy today who I tried desperately to convince his life was worth saving

Beautiful beyond measure

Knowing

him living his life could save mine

 

 

 

 

 

My obituary

I am taking this class called Grief, Loss and Bereavement- where we learn about ... the process of grieving, losing things,  people or your sense of self, what that means, and ofcourse how to help people who are going through any of those processes.  In typical NYU style where every new psycho therpay technique or topic we learn about we have to also try and apply to ourselves, one assignment we were given was to write our own obituary as if you died today.  

I finished my obituary a week early- either because I had some weird pull toward doing it or I just didnt want to do my other assignments and was trying to procrastinate- who knows. When I was done, I reread it and thought to myself ....how my sisters or dad would have done a better job writing this thing, which I guess would be who really would be writing it bout me if I did die today.  Largely, I just assumed that most of my classmates' pieces would be similar to mine. 

But then, I asked Jason what he would write if he had to write his and he said he would list his accomplishments. It hadnt even dawned on me to include them in my piece as even a part of what would be the last words to the world describing me and my life. The tangible accomplishments, my degrees, my certificates, my honors ( not that I have too many) just didnt even pop into my head for the whole page and a half.

I asked my professor about it nd he said listing your accomplishments in something like that is called a resume obituary- he said most of his students have turned in a resume obituary over the years. I thought about it and I decided that even if I was applying for a job I would much rather the person who was hiring me know the things I included in my obituary because I think it speaks more to who I am and what I feel as important. So here it is... my obituary at least the draft I have up until now. 

Obituary for Gina E. Rossini

Gina Rossini died today. She left behind 8 beloved siblings, 4 amazing parents, 8 amazing nieces and nephews, her true love, and her dearest friends; all of whom she loved, was inspired by, and believed in, everyday of her life, with all of her heart and all of her soul. She left them behind with the hope that they will carry on the life that was cut short for her.  These were the people in her life that allowed her to exhale, who pushed her to grow, to stand on her own, and who carried her when she needed to rest.

Gina was a woman who tried everyday to fight for what she believed in and what she thought was right and fair. She tried to embrace and appreciate life's joys;  to learn and grow from, reflect on and be resilient to life's struggles. Gina worked extremely hard, and played, laughed and loved  harder. She was a person who was dedicated and fought to make a difference in the world; who woke up everyday hoping she would have the ability to impact someone's life, and have the ability to realize how her life was impacted in return. Gina was forever a student of life.  She was both a witness to and participant of incredible pain, incredible loss, incredible love and incredible strength. She understood the power of children.  She loved to dance and sing.  She loved to love. She loved to learn. She loved to run fast and walk slow. 

She grew up with parents who taught her to always try and find the beauty in people, to cherish and honor the beauty in nature, and to understand that we are all only a tiny part of  much greater universe; no one person better than another; no one person more important than another. Gina never fully realized her own power or beauty, but she worked everyday, until the day she died to find it.

Gina's body will be returned to her home town Eugene, OR, the place where she took her first breath and her first step. Gina's soul will remain free.