casually collaborative combination

i use the computer program 'stickies' to keep track of miscellaneous things in my life that i never intend to actually write down on sticky notes (which i use compulsively).
there's one sticky that's been accumulating weird jokes/quotes/ideas i once found inspiring, and i'm not really sure what to do with it. so here it is:

-Cómo se dice tuve muchos hijos en francés?

Pari-sien

-“for whatever we lose (like a you or a me) / it's always ourselves we find in the sea” -ee cummings

-"You ‘ave les Juifs, et les Episcopalians, et, euh, ze classical music lover! et he who likes pizza, or who is funky…or who likes punk!" -Luc, my freshmen year French professor, on the multitude of religions and loves embraced in America

-to read: truth, kindness, tolerance- zhuan falun by li hongzhi

-keeping a journal of gratitude. seeing the things that are going well in your life has a positive reinforcing effect on your being.

-"there are times when you'll realize people have taught you things you should have never learned" -i forget what movie/show i heard this on

-"fuckin' people and talkin' about shit" –kenzie, an old friend, on people 

-"everything we did together [was] just to keep busy" -D/deaf subject on how mother distracted her from depression, valentine & skeleton 2011 (i found this while doing research for a paper)

Yo ho ho and a bottle of run

I've never had a boyfriend.

You know this.

I know this.

Everyone knows this.

I've been a late bloomer.

I liked boys in high school and I would have wanted to date some but it never occurred to me that I actually could.

It just never occurred to me that some might have liked me back.

Well, university came and it's the time to get crazy, right?

Well, no.

Not for me.

I didn't go crazy.

There have been some guys.

It hasn't been completely dead.

It's just that when something serious is going to happen, I kill it off and run.

Run Rii Run.

It's my motto apparently.

I'm afraid of commitment. I didn't think this was possible but it seems to be truth.

When I got my job, I was afraid of signing the contract because it seemed so final.

It still does.

Never really celebrated the job because it freaked me out that I was stuck here for a long time.

That I have to answer to someone for my time and production.

Oh baby, thinking about it gives me the hinkies.

I don't know when this happened.

I always thought I was perfectly fine with commitment.

Commitment wasn't an issue.

When did it become an issue?

Why is it an issue?

Why do I run away?

I spoke to a therapist and she said that she thought I was level headed and well adapted.

There probably is a bigger issue. 

There's always a bigger issue.

Always.

Fuck.

Oh Baby Slump

You're sick.
And I felt like writing.
Yay?
I had a horrible drive home yesterday.
I left work at 18:30 trying to avoid traffic.
THAT DID NOT HAPPEN.
I'm about 1/4 of the way home and traffic comes to a complete stop.
STOP.
My car was not moving.
I was tired and already fighting back tears.
The stopped car was a catalyst.
I couldn't stop myself.
Tears started to flow like the fucking Niagara Falls.
All I wanted was to put my head down and cry.
Let go of my body and just slump.
Slump.
But I'd remember I was driving.
It was terrible.
I questioned my whole life.
My whole life.
Oh baby.

thoughts on babes

i. sometimes i see a baby and i really want one
  (ia. but then i babysit a kid for 4 hours and by the 2nd hour i'm over it)

ii. my thesis advisor was the most inspiring academic and friend i met in my last year. even though she knew little bits and pieces of my life i never really figured out what hers was like--apart from her kids and husband. i saw her this morning, when i asked how she was doing she responded with "my daughter's been sick all week throwing up and i have to run pick up my son from outdoors camp in 5." that's why i don't know anything about her. she doesn't talk about anything but being a mother.

iii. babies take over your life.

quelques fois

yesterday was my last day as an intern at the studio. all the artists (aka adults with disabilities) were sad that i won't regularly be there anymore. one of them even said, "you know, this is why i hate working here--or being a part of any center for people with disabilities--you get to meet the coolest staff members and volunteers. but, there's a high turn-over rate, you know, because they don't get paid enough. so they move on, and we never really hear back from them. it sucks."

truer words have never been spoken. i've always loved these types of jobs/volunteer positions but have doubted making a career out of it because the emotional drain coupled with the low-wage salaries would never really make me happy outside my workplace. does that make me selfish?

i especially feel like an asshole when they ask me about my plans following the internship:
me- "Oh, I'm just visiting my sister and looking for a job when I get back"
them- "Where does your sister live? what kind of a job are you looking for?"
me- "She lives in France. I'm looking for something in research"
them- "Oh, well then..."