salience

I find it soothing to think while watching the rain. In the midst of the downpours, I have been contemplating:

"Truth has no path. Truth is living and, therefore, changing. Awareness is without choice, without demand, without anxiety; in that state of mind, there is perception. To know oneself is to study oneself in action with another person. Awareness has no frontier; it is giving of your whole being, without exclusion."

"A fight is not won by one punch or kick. Either learn to endure or hire a bodyguard. Forget about winning and losing; forget about pride and pain. Let your opponent graze your skin and you smash into his flesh; let him smash into your flesh and you fracture his bones; let him fracture your bones and you take his life. Do not be concerned with escaping safely - lay your life before him."

"Jeet Kune Do, ultimately, is not a matter of petty technique but of highly developed personal spirituality and physique. It is not a question of developing what has already been developed but of recovering what has been left behind. These things have been with us, in us, all the time and have never been lost or distorted except by our misguided manipulation of them. Jeet Kune Do is not a matter of technology but of spiritual insight and training."

Thank you, Bruce Lee.

One minute everything is so clear. The next it's too dark to see.
Here I am, pushing so hard to move on, but these memories are a glass wall I just can't break through.
Soon I will be drowning in all of your words, fumbling again to piece together the truth.
Tell me I deserve this, please. Lie to me, just once more.

So you're in love, that's so good for you.
Live it up girl 'cause it never lasts long.
It's heaven for now but not for long.
It's gonna hurt you, it's going to make you feel so bad.

Once I could love, I could trust, I could not doubt
But that was just about the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.

Maybe not now, but it won't take long
Before it's gonna hurt you and truly do you some harm.

Once I was open, could hope, I had no doubt
But that was the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.

Once I came close to that most elusive fire
Burning with hopeless love and desire
But it was just about the worst thing that I could do.
It was just about the worst thing that I could do.

En el pasado estuve ciega como tu.
Atrapada y perdida como tu.
Embelesada y suspendida en mi jaula de plata.
Esos recuerdos te acompanaran toda la vida.

Natalie Merchant "The Worst Thing"

Everything in life can be relative.
It's hard to accept what's real.

In the confusion of the past few weeks, I haven't been able to subdue my emotion enough to bring these thoughts into the light...

Things at work are going really well. I have a mile long list of contacts, I'm gaining a ton of experience, and Angela wants me to come back to the team during the Christmas break. For awhile there, I was really struggling with Corporate America. All of a sudden it hit me: is this it?? If I count down the minutes every day when I only have to do this for 14 weeks, what am I going to do when this is my life for 50 weeks out of every year?

Every day I would get to my desk and watch the office wake up. Employees would come in, dragging their feet, dreading another day. The break room was base, where people went to hide, to escape being it. Being fortunate enough to sit in the middle of the CFO cluster, I would listen to these executives shouting on the phone all day, cursing at their machines, throwing papers around their glass-enclosed offices, calling their wives to vent their frustration. Lunch was just a time for business outside of the office. The afternoon crawled by with detailed meetings. In those last minutes before five o'clock, tension would build, everyone watching the clock to see those last seconds drain out of the work day. In a massive push, everyone was packed up, waiting for cellphones to ring, at the elevators. Happy, as if for the first time.

Day in and day out.

I could not stop wondering, "Holy Mother of God, what have I gotten myself into?"

At lunch, all of us interns would talk about the future. We're all business nerds, used to having things planned out. Suddenly we were collectively confused. Yeah, we all want to make the most money in the least amount of time. That is a given. But is this our only option?

Even worse was the day we realized that it doesn't matter what you do at work. It's just the impression that is important. Unless one is a high ranking exec, she could just come to the office and play solitaire all day, if she so chose. As long as she was there, looked busy, every now and again making a lively phone call, or sitting in a meeting somewhere, everyone would assume that she was earning her money.

The game was immensely disappointing. Where's the challenge? If we all dedicated ourselves to one company after undergrad, it could take years to get a challenging job. Years of just staring at a computer screen, of playing with an excel file for two weeks, of organizing unnecessary meetings with your advisors to discuss said excel file.

Of waiting.

Designated the representative by my intimidated peers, I set up a lunch with Angela. She only wanted to talk to four of us--she figured everyone else could get the word through the intern grapevine. We all piled into her brand new bmw, and she took us to her favorite luxury restaraunt. She insisted that we all order whatever we wanted, after all, "The General" was paying for it, not her. And for an hour and a half, she just talked. About everything. How at 26 she was making more than she ever dreamed. How even without her master's she was being considered for a CFO position. What everyone expects of her, how there is no place she would rather be.

The difference between her and everyone else, she said, was that she liked the game. She thought it petty, but if it could give her enough financial security to start substantial investments so she could finally settle down and get married, she was all for it.

What was comforting was I realized she has the same goals I do. She is the oldest of nine kids. The first in her family to go to college. She too has watched her parents struggle to support everyone. Family is everything, including expensive. I want to be able to support my parents. I want to give back everything I took, everything I put them through, and then some, with more than enough left over to build my own life. I know how to win the game, but I have to hit the ground running.

She stressed the proactiveness of business. How things are slow to start, but if one plans out her career track within a company, in a matter of months she can be on her way to meeting her goals. GE is a company that emphasizes sacrifice. It allows its employees to move, to improve upon the business, to always look ahead.

One of the greatest things I have learned so far is how the company works to project an image to the economy. Nothing in this environment is, "Let's see how it all turns out." Everything is, "This is our goal. Let's do whatever we have to, to meet and exceed our expectations."

GE Global was tied with CitiGroup for #1 in the Fortune 500 in market value last year. Additionally, it is made up of many businesses, all of which can stand alone in the Fortune 500. Transportation Systems in Erie has just named its new CEO, a woman of 36. The first woman, and youngest, CEO at GE. She has three children. She makes seven figures. The CEO of Contractual Services, the business I'm interning for, was just named one of the ten most influential men in business by Fortune 500. Transportation Systems and Contractual Services combined make about $500 million in revenue annually.

The statistics go on and on...

What am I saying, exactly? Taking a job anywhere else would be a step down. Sure, I might make more money initially, but in the long run I would be stuck in one job. GE Global is such a vast enterprise that there are endless possibilities when it comes to careers. Angela, for instance, has worked in Ohio, Milan, Asia, Portugal, and now Georgia. All in four years. Her resume of leadership and training pours out the door. Next quarter she could go to any other big company and name her price.

If she wants to.

After many long discussions with the other interns, especially the other female interns (how exactly will my biological clock fit in with my career?, etc.), coworkers, and my family, I am confident with where I stand. It is entirely possible that I will be working for GE in two years. It is also possible that I will be getting my master's from Harvard or Princeton, while interning for Chase Manhattan, and then entering the GE FMP.

Regardless, I have realized that "the game" I had worried so much about in the beginning was really just self-doubt. Corporate America is not complicated. It's political: all about who you know, how you present yourself, and whether or not you put yourself out there.

But that's not anything new.
Just like life, it's proactive.

There are many roles I could assume right now. Victim. Feminist. Moron. But I am tired of it all. I am realizing that I should be thanking you. Yes, this past week has been the worst in recent memory. But I suppose that is to be expected. What I am trying to say is, this is a first.

Always I've had a backup. An option. Conscious or no, I was waiting for things to fail. Except this time. There was no need for Plan B. I mean, this was it, right? This guy was Plan A-Z, what I had been after for three years.

But see, I've carried this weakness with me for awhile now. I don't see people for who they are, really, until after the fact. I just can't, I'm too busy projecting my dreams onto another, that I never really get to know him and vice versa. It's tragic, really. To invest all of this time and emotion without ever really getting anywhere.

This all-I-need-is-one-more-piece-of-my-puzzle stuff is worthless. If I'm not even honest with myself, how can I expect others to be honest with me? What good is a "relationship" if it's just a mirror?

It's an eerie, unfamiliar fog.

It happens in flashes. Blinding, then vivid. Detailed.

listerine
your eyes
the feel of your clothes
the Jeep

All metallic mainstays of my subconscious, reflecting a warmth behind my eyes. I was smiling, ignorant, content, secure.

Maybe the listerine was covering up more than just your smoking.
Maybe your eyes had that sincere look when you made the call.
Maybe you were wearing those beige corduroys when you told me you were too sick to see me.

The only thing I know for sure is the Jeep you drove to the bar is no longer recognizable.

You are one superb actor. I truly believed you: I shared everything with you. I took it for granted that you would always tell me everything. I took your silence for reflection. It never once crossed my mind that you were in denial, that you were hiding from me.

Now I notice the little pieces of you in my thoughts.
I have the tangible you memorized, yet all I ever knew was a mask.

But things have not changed, really.
Aside from the slight shift to the right, I remain alone.

All I can do is react to your actions.

No, there just aren't words to describe the pain.

It's all quite alarming, really--for me to step back from my internal monologue and actually digest what I'm thinking. It's enough for me to ask, who are you, anyway?

Ever since I can remember, I have chased after fleeting thoughts for days, a temporary obssession. It begins with a random spark: an idea or an instance. And then I'm off, all what-ifs and maybes. It's all I can think about, all I can talk about. Those around me start to wonder if I'll make it, if the sugar rush will ever recede, if the intense fever will ever break.

It's as if a fierce thunderstorm swells in the summer sky. It floods my streets and soaks my clothes. I cannot see clearly and my shoes make slick contact with the pavement. Surely this has to be the worst storm of the season. Have you ever seen rain drops this big or skies this dark? Yet, I have never been more giddy. I am a five year old jumping in a lake of a puddle for the first time. I make a deal with nature, jumping into street puddles only to trip back onto the sidewalk. This is the Golden Rule, this is euphoria. I make my way down the road, savoring each jump. This is a taste I want to remember. And then it happens. I stumble from the exact spot I should have jumped. I can feel myself falling, but can do nothing but watch the wet ground race to meet my hands. The shock in my wrists is sharp, numbing. I can't feel anything, but I see the blood. All of a sudden the cuts sting and I sit there, frozen. The rain is pouring ice to me now. Someone, please come find me. Please help me home... I lay in the street, pleading for relief. You know God, if I just can just get home, I'll... And right before I blurt out a bargain with the divine, the rain stops. Steam sneaks from the street. Slowly I am able to pull myself up. And as quickly as it began, the storm is gone. My need is gone. Only blue fills the sky.

Being fortunate enough to catch up with Mighty Girl this morning, I was able to read this:

Possible Scenarios for Heaven

A word of caution, my dears. If you want to talk politics with me, fine. But understand, if you don't do your homework, you don't get a ticket to watch the show.

::in response to a recent debate::

If you go to this site, you will see the paper yelling the alarm for North Korea admitting to "producing enough plutonium to make a half-dozen nuclear bombs and...intend(ing) to move ahead quickly to turn the material into weapons".

Now then:

A major downfall of America is our ability to take the media's opinion and absorb it as our own. In case you missed it the first time, our forty second president sold North Korea the capacities they are using to make these weapons back in 1994. So of course, you understand why this is not a blinding news flash to our government.

Please, before you fall in line with the others eating the media's scare tactics, educate yourself.
Then we can talk.

Here lately I can't get out of this self-analyzing bubble. I have a great job, I'm home with my family, and everything is okay. Yet, I can't shake this feeling of dread. Not the good kind. You know, that you read about in the paper. I am no penniless street musician who is fueled by his father's death to make it big.

No. Lately I can't get it out of my head that I'm normal.

And to most people, this seems like an ordinary sentence. And after all, isn't "normal" a good thing? It implies that I am acceptable according to a generally accepted rubric, that everything will be fine.

But I don't want to be a part of any generalization. I'd rather be a loner, thank you. If I allow myself to get sucked into this category, I'll have to put up with other people who have been labeled "normal" as well. I don't want that responsibility, to continue your stereotype. Let's just say that it doesn't interest me, okay?

So where does that leave me? How do I stop counting down the days until I can remove myself from you? Trust me, no matter how hard you push, I will not form to this mold. Sure, I'll dance around here, every now and again letting a "normal" slip, giving you another tally on your Expect List. But see, I carry everything I need with me, honest. And believe you me, the day will come...

When I will just walk away.

Christie has a blog!! :)

So, a few things:

1. Michelle has posted on her livejournal!! :)

2. The familia went down to Ft. Walton beach for the 4th. El papa, la mama and the twins drove down Wednesday, but my brother and I didn't leave until Friday morning, as I didn't want to miss work and he couldn't miss football practices. There was a huge dilemma surrounding transportation to the airport: no one could take us, even just to the MARTA station off 400. You know it's a busy time when one can't even find a ride to MARTA. Fortunately, my querido dragged himself out of bed to get us down there. (Thank you.) He showed up at my door at a quarter to 6, and we were at the MARTA station before 6:30.

Some highlights of our second beach escapade:
-the eternal rains which blocked out the sun
-all 6 of us sharing one bathroom
-all 6 of us reading before bed
-deep sea fishing
-el papa dancing in his seat during Legally Blonde II.

3. This afternoon woman triumphed over technology, once again. I was able to bypass the GE firewall and get AIM up and running on my work machine. Watch out, folks!! :)

4. Now, in the hopes of letting go, and further proving what a nerd I am:

::clears throat::

THE AIR FORCE HAS LOWERED ITS STANDARDS ONCE AGAIN!! Why do I care? you might be asking. More specifically why do I care if the Air Force has lowered its requirement to a 1.5 mile run/walk on the AFPFT (Air Force Physical Fitness Test)? Allow me to explain.

I am no longer in ROTC. This is obvious. However, I still train daily: a habit only emphasized by my brother, as he is busting is ass for the start of football season. ROTC training is not that strenous on the body. To be honest, it is just the repetitive schedule that is taxing. Yet, the entire point of the Reserved Officers Training Corps is to prepare students for active duty. Although technology has advanced warfare significantly, it is still necessary to be physically ready for the demands of combat. That being said, allow me to make a distinction:

The primary function of the Army is to obtain and secure grounds necessary to advancing the mission of the Commander In Chief. The primary mission of the Air Force is not air warfare (that is the navy's job), but to maintain aviation equipment and to deliver humanitarian aide.

Regardless of a service's mission, servicemen should be physically fit.

How then, is the Air Force helping its future officers by decresing the physical requirements? How demeaning is it to the cadets, assuming that 2 miles is too strenous a standard? It is insulting to all current AFROTC cadets, further proving the laziness of the service. As if being able to bike the two miles in the first place wasn't bad enough...

So you're saying, "Let it go, it doesn't affect you, anymore."

Well, you must understand. The military is all I know, I can't help but feel ashamed. Add to it the fact that my best childhood friend is currently at Air Force ROTC summer camp, and maybe you will begin to understand my frustration.

Just picture it:

Erin is running her first summer camp AFPFT, a fitness exam which will affect her commissioning and placement in two years. She is nervous, but confident that she will score well. As she rounds the track to start her 7th lap, a young, newly-commissioned second lieutenant will yell, "Gaberlavage! That's enough, stop running!!" She will instantly think she has broken some Air Force rule and her mind will reel, "What? Did I not tie my shoe laces according to Air Force regulation and the proctor just noticed?? What am I doing wrong?" The second lieutenant will calmly explain that the Air Force no longer expects its cadets to be able to run 2 miles, especially after Operation Enduring Freedom. He will go on to say, "You understand. We were the last to be deployed overseas and the first to return stateside. Endurance is no longer a concern."

So I've been doing some thinking lately. No, not the routine, why-is-my-phone-bill-so-expensive thinking. (Contrary to popular belief, I am not a big phone person. True, my phone bill can be outrageous at school, but this is because the phone is my primary means of communication with my family. When I'm home, whom do I have to call?) No, this is constructing-a-new-plan thinking.

It's not that I feel like I've grown up at all, working from 7am-5pm every week day. Don't get me wrong, having to function continuously throughout the day has been an uphill battle, as I had to reclaim a routine I had not utilized since high school. And let's face it, as gossip-y and shallow as I can be sometimes, I do not relish weekly shopping to stay in fashion, and therefore hold my influence at work. (Yes, that stereotype still holds. Out of 67 interns here, just in Atlanta, 7 of us are girls. The ratio is even less when it comes to permanent employees. You have to play the game to win, for sure.)

No, it's more like I can understand this bend in the road more clearly. In the winter I had to make a decision of whether to put my health or my dreams first. Having chosen my health, it has taken quite some time for me to accept that I made the right decision, that everything will turn out okay. With that benchmark passed, I can now focus on creating new dreams. It is deceiving, I know. How does one exactly know where she wants to go in life? Isn't living an action, not a checklist? No matter how studious one may be, there are bound to be details and events that will remain unaccounted for: one just can't forsee everything.

Following that vein of thought, I have been talking with my dad a ton lately. The more we just let conversation evolve, the more I learn about the dreams he was never able to follow. It's very tragic in a way, to be half way through one's expected lifetime and to have only a few of the things he had dreamed about as a little kid. Of course, he would argue that these few things are the most essential.

I agree.

Nevertheless, it is nice to know I have his support, as well as his wisdom. We are both learning that, together, we can accomplish many things. Although we have hurt each other many times over the years, ours is a relationship that I will continue to go back to as my source of strength. And I suppose that is a daughter's right, to place one's father on a pedastal.

What I am learning though, is it is so empowering to see him continually step down, take my hand, and wait for me to lead the way.