diversity day.

it sounds like such a cliche, but a week ago my work had a diversity/cultural "training" workshop. it was the same ole, which brought me back to my college days of sitting in a circle while the loud people spoke out about their disparities, wisdom, whathaveyou. 

as just one of three "people of color," i felt nervous and intimidated to join my ultra-PC-elitist colleagues. i didn't want to hear them talk about the things that i assumed they knew nothing about—the things that feel so close to me. but i did it and it was okay. just okay. 

i mean, these sort of issues are intense. they kick my ass. call me narcissistic, call me a thinker. i have these issues. and i love them. not love love, but love them. they make me whole. they make me fucked up. and even though i'm happy these days, these 23 days of january, i'm still clinging to that familiar handle of pessimism. 

anyway. diversity day. the moment that is fixed to my memory like a price tag that refuses to remove itself from a new paperback, is when we were numbered off and placed in a circle, face-to-face, and forced to give each other compliments. why is giving or receiving compliments such a task for me? i am cringing just thinking about it. my compliments were inadequate and not as thoughtful as they should have been (for certain people). 

so, i'm kind of sad about that. and as a gay, asian, adopted, blah blah, half-glass-empty kinda girl, i say hello. and don't put me in a box. 

the taste of january.

since my last post, i've allowed my hoofs to step forward, with ease. and rather than dreading how that next gulp of anger will feel after its defecated on my tastebuds, i've been breathing deeper. fuller. 

the wound has healed and now a tight little line sits on my paw like a smirk. who would have thought it would take a serrated knife to cut through my anguish. 

last night, as we swooped down 65th toward our comfortable "studio," i admitted how much better i felt. it's interesting to step back and listen to yourself talk candidly about things that others take for granted. things that i will take for granted again in a couple of years, assuming this isn't just fakery. 

and rather than those intense solo scornful-face-making-competitions in mirrors, i've been drafting my mental list of "plans" for this year. so far, i hope to: check out local happy hours and music venues, continue to hunt around for the perfect latte, adopt more plants to fill the larger space and convince pickles to become more active.

 

perhaps a festive color-coordinated sweatsuit will entice her. she's bound to cause double-takes in an earthy green or pink. i can hear it now, the neighborhood cat who i occasionally spot in the front yard will meow in the window, as if to say, "damn pickles, you are tearin' it up."