Within, without
there ain't no doubt
as to my true intention;
oblique, obtuse
it's no use
there's far too much to mention.

July 2002

I like "economy of motion". As a descriptive phrase, and as an idea: using the smallest amount of energy possible to move. Fidgeting bothers me, maybe because I'm so very fidgety myself. I feel victorious when I'm able to sit still, or to do something with as few extraneous movements as I can. "Economy of motion" brings to mind someone poised, assured in their space, confident and comfortable with who they are.

Don’t worry I will catch you if you fall.

Self Therapy: Get UP Get OUT Do It

I've been telling myself for months to just pack up my house, and when I find somewhere to move to, I'll be all ready. See, I haven't been looking TOO hard, because I told myself I'd do the packing up first. I have all the supplies I need, but it's the getting started I haven't quite managed. So far, only one box of living room art & knickknacks has been finished. There's a stack of flat boxes just waiting to be filled with our stuff, but our stuff is still in the same old places, and we're walking around the box pile, not even seeing it anymore.

I actually started looking up houses online last night. Best place to look, pretty much, but I've had internet a month now & hadn't done it. AVOIDANCE! I'm awesome at avoidance. I found two houses that take Section 8, in less-than-desirable neighborhoods, and e-mailed the contacts to set up looksees. Now I've got a different kind of anxiety; will I find a place to move and NOT be ready?

By now you probably think I'm some kind of crazy lady trippin off some simple shit, which is really kind of true. I'm nuts, cos I can't figure out how to actually DO the things I've planned so carefully in my head.

I think I'm scared. But I don't know why. I'm under no pressure to move, I can stay here as long as I want; it's just that I hate this flat & I desperately want to live where I don't share walls, ceilings or floors with other folx. I would like closets, counters, and a kitchen that makes sense. I want to do my laundry at home, and I dream of having a yard, or at least a lil piece of dirt to dig & plant. I want to leave so badly, and I am blessed to have everything I need to make the change. So what am I scared of? Why am I not out there making it happen?

I have the best excuses: not enough time (bullshit; poor time management is the real problem), pain (I can work through pain, I have ibuprofen & cannabis), no help (I can hire my nephews, who are pro movers), money (I've moved with much less than I have in the bank right now) and dozens more, an excuse for everything. Even I know I'm fuckin with my own head.

I got to get up get out & do it. Follow up & follow through. And stop sitting down & listening to the Scared Mandy, whose mantra is "I can't".

E 27th St, Oakland