Meditation

. . .Meditation DAY4 of 10. . .

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Meditation

. . .Meditation DAY 3 of 10. . .

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Meditation

. . .Meditation DAY 2 of 10. . .

www.dhamma.org

Meditation

. . .Meditation DAY 1 of 10. . .

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Yin and Yang

Such an elegant symbol.

Off to meditation tomorrow at 4:30 am.

See you in 10 days.

xo

T

Three Reasons to Rise

. . .and so. . .

I got out of bed.

xo

T

Correction

. . .talked to the Troll when he rose at 4pm. . .

. . .not xxx at all. . .rather. . .sports. . .Northern Ireland beating Slovenia in the European Championships. . .

I can only imagine that what my downstairs informant heard as "Take it off" was actually "Take him off."

Glad were back to a "G" rating. . .

xo

T

Hairy Fairy and Scary Troll

It's 3:41am and I'm awake. It seems that Vomit Man needs a new name -- the Scary Troll.

The Scary Troll seems not to have been able to find a bridge to haunt, so he has taken up residence in our living room. He is currently watching xxx movies and banging loudly enough on the table to wake me up. I yelled out of my room and he quieted. . .but now he's just saying "yes" a lot.

I was worried, thought he was yelling at kitty, but actually he was yelling "take it off" to the television screen. I'm getting my information from my other female roommate who is currently locked in her room downstairs on the second floor, next to the TV, text messaging me. It's like we're keeping tabs on Mexican terrorist action in a border town or something.

"Where is he now?"

"According to the pitter pat pattern he's making his way to the bathroom."

"I hear vomiting, can you confirm?"

"Confirmed, three retches. Deep ones."

This is what we do.

My informant below is fasting now, usually she would go down at 4am to eat something in the kitchen but with the troll in the living room she says she'll just make do with the water in her room. I told her I would accompany her. But she reminded me that if one makes it past the scylla of the Scary Troll, one still has to deal with the charybdis of our new roommate Hairy Fairy.

Hairy Fairy is very tall and used to keep his shirt on but has currently taken to walking around in his boxer shorts letting his floppy stomach and hairy back stake their claims on the visual space.

We try to respect his decency, even if he doesn't, by looking away, but it's altogether a very compelling sight and something one doesn't see every day so I tend to sneak a peek as he shuffles past. The funny thing is that Hairy Fairy has this strange way of being almost completely naked but acting as if he were fully clothed, just shuffling on by, slightly hunched. A staunch royalist from Northern England, very at home with his English eccentricity, seemingly harmless, talks with a lisp, calls an umbrella a "bwelli," vegetarian, likes to sleep.

I wonder if he's ever going to walk out completely nude. Maybe he just has to stay in this crazy city long enough to start binge drinking like the rest of em and who knows. . .it took him less than a week to lose the shirt.

Anyway Hairy Fairy appears harmless at present. His only problem is having gotten the short end of the genetic stick and that really isn't his fault. Besides, he's got an oblivious kookiness that's not altogether without charm. . .not altogether.

The Scary Troll is a problem though. So sad an pathetic. I feel bad for him and I am grossed out by his vomit. Would like to help somehow. . .but how? What's the story of the troll under the bridge? How does he transform at the end? Isn't there something about a goat? Or do they just push him over a cliff?

For now. . . we stay in our rooms until the Troll quits banging on the furniture and drags himself to bed. Which I think now. . .he has done. . .so. . me too. . .night/morning.

xo

T

Veils

Love these things.

Lycra!

$3-$5 at the Hypermart.

Picked up the black one today.

Don't wear them out--just around the perch. . .but I love having them in my closet all the same!

If I ever have kids or child relatives I figure it'll be great for them to play with. . .no?

Time to stretch. . .

xo

T

Meek

meek adj.

1.enduring injury with patience and without resentment

Can't say whether or not this definition found me or I found it.

I know I wasn't looking.

Just flipping through the dictionary as I do and BAM! there was meek.

I read the definition.

I wondered.

This didn't sound like the meek I had imagined in my head.

I always wondered why the meek would inherit the earth. It seemed strange to me that only the poor, sick, and spineless would thrive.

Brave, rich people are cool too...aren't they?

But now I see. . .

meek exposed. . .

it doesn't mean weak at all does it. . .

(that's only definition number 2)

It means. . .equanimous.

I see. . .I see. . .the equanimous will inherit the earth. . .rich. . .poor. . or otherwise.

That. . .

. . .I get

. . .because what good's enlightenment if it ain't fair?

Gracias Merriam Webster.

xoxo

Tuesday

Tuesday on Tuesday

Kitty Kat Shuffle

Our little street friend is improving. . .

After our daily regime of saline eye washes she has TWO EYES NOW!

I wanted to snap this but she no longer sits still for photographs. . .

Instead she claws around, bites toes, and explores behind the refrigerator. . .

I think maybe she needs something to scratch on. . .

+

She's eating, using the litter box (there she goes right now. . . good girl), exploring, and has settled at last into a bed on the little towel I gave her. . .

-

She's got a big bloated tummy, doesn't drink enough water, and cries all the time (actually. . .she only cries when people are around. . . spoiled already???)

She has a funny little kitty strut as her legs kind of splay out in the back to accommodate her big belly.

Since I'm sooooooo not a cat person I did a little bit of research on what this big kitty belly could be. . .as those of you more schooled in this kind of thing will know immediately the belly is probably WORMS of the parasitic variety (not my beloved periyonix excavatus earthworm). . .

I notice this kind of belly on most of the street cats around here. . .the girls especially. . .the strong tom cats don't seem to have it . . .I guess they make sure they get the best food chunks and don't have to go around eating cat poop.

Little kitty was probably on pure poop since she lost her mama.

I was gonna make a run to the pet store for dewormer but since they sell dewormer for human babies at the pharmacy down the street. . .we'll try that. . .

Don't want those worms stealing all that valuable new-trition from this already emaciated little thing!

Oh and on a P.S. . . . . BYE BYE FLEAS. . .three flea baths, a bunch of picking, shivering, sun on the veranda, and a little bit of Dettol seemed to do the trick.

keep you posted

xoxox

Tuesday

P.S. Advice? If you know any helpful kitty hints. . .please. . .I'm all ears.

Lao Tzu on Sunday

Without going out of your door

you can know the ways of the world.

Without peeping through your window

you can see the way of heaven.

SNAPS: Smile kitty kat!

Three Months Today

a disappointing and sad morning became a sweet afternoon

as I walked home for a quick cup of tea between classes around 6

a little kitten materialized at my feet

it had a walk that I knew well

the walk of a malnourished street kid

a walk my sister's pup had (Bella the one in my profile pic)

I took a closer look

the eyes were all crudded shut looked like it has no eyes at all

one eye opens a crack

I didn't know what to do

so ran back to school to get the Buddhist woman who saves birds

she said I should get a box and a blanket

Check. . .did it. . .

we put the cat in the box and carried it into the school

now the kitty is sleeping peacefully at last in the love box in my meditation closet with a fuzzy finger puppet

the vet comes tomorrow at 10. . .

I'll keep you posted. . .

thanks to Indonesia for the 3 month anniversary present. . .

xoxox

Love

Tuesday

Tuesday on Tuesday

. . .not much happening. . .

what's Tuesday for. . .???

cool cats from Kalianda. . .down south on the Sumatran coast. . .who hum Bob Dylan in the shade.

Hmmmm. . .hmmmm (humming)

when the rooster crows at the break of dawn

look out your window and I'll be gone

you're the reason I'm a travellin on

but don't think twice it's alright

4:09am

Woke up. . .out of breath. . .4:09 Saturday morning. . .

think I don't breathe sometimes when I sleep. . .

was having one of those. . .I'm trapped in the moldy staircase of the car park of a shopping mall. . .flashing to. . .the shopping mall is closing and I have to put back together the sewing machine I just knocked into a thousand pieces on the floor. . . then somehow I woke up- as if from non-breathing- screaming the name of this girl I used to know and really don't like*. . .

now what to do. . .

the mosque men are singing. . .

the fasters are doing their morning chow down. . .

will it be meditation. . . or back to bed. . .

think I'll check the dream dictionary for what it means to dream about sewing machines. . .

hi Saturday

xoxox

Tuesday

*(hate to say I don't like someone but. . .it's true. . .when i can hear or think of this person's name without scowling I'll know I have evolved a quantifiable amount)

Lao Tzu on a Friday

Lao Tzu Says:

We should be kind to the kind

We should be kind to the unkind

We should be faithful to the faithful

We should be faithful to the unfaithful

because

Virtue is kind

and

Virtue is faithful

Cake Breath and Vomit Guy

I guess I should give a little back story on the heavy day that was Tuesday and led to my last post. Here's the dirt. One of my roommates enjoys drinking himself into a zombified stupor on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and any day leading up to a public holiday. He sits in the living room chain smoking and drinking beer. The rest of us just generally stay out of his way. . .looking into his glazed eyes is pretty spooky. . .

So, Monday night this guys decides to go on a binge (eventhough he's past the age when this kind of behaviour goes from immature to pathetic. . .way past). At about 2am Tuesday morning I, on the third floor, am roused from a semi-peaceful slumber by the sounds of vomiting in the second floor bathroom. . .gross and sad.

Tuesday morning I am the first to rise and find that our beer loving roommate did not even have the wherewithal to clean up after himself. . .chunks are all over the bathroom floor. Welcome to Tuesday. I suppose I could have bitten the bullet and hosed down the bathroom myself. . .but I just didn't feel like it. I already buy the toilet paper and the kitchen sponges and no one mentions it or says thanks. Though I know I should do it thankful or thanklessly. . .somedays. . .well. . .it's just not happening.

I closed the bathroom door with a bitter grimace and went downstairs to the first floor bathroom. On the way back up to my room I grabbed the 9 rolls of toilet paper I had donated to the house and put them in my closet. Done.

That was the morning.

Then the afternoon came. On a high note, roommate Aisha was a big enough woman to take care of the vomit covered bathroom. . .hosing it down so not a trace remained. I thanked her profusely for being such a grown up person about it all. None of us said a word to Vomit Man though. . .what do you say to a grown man who can't get it together to clean up his own vomit in a communal living situation? That was a job for his mama back in Ireland. . .and clearly. . .she didn't drive the message home.

So. . .afternoon continued and I went out to the mall to buy DVD's and popcorn with bosses and new teacher. It was all fine. I bought some cake to share with the new teacher. Just trying my best to be congenial. The unsettling part of the afternoon came when it was time to eat.

I split the cake between the new teacher and myself since no one else wanted any. The new teacher and I chomped on the cake both deciding that it really wasn't like chocolate cake at all. I smelled my cake and declared "this doesn't even smell like chocolate cake." It was at that moment that the Hepatitis infected person to my right ( not the new teacher. . .he was to my left) asked to sniff my cake.

In my head I'm thinking "Are you out of your mind you control freaking socially inept megalomaniac! You don't even want any cake to begin with, you have a contagious disease, and you want to SNIFF MY CAKE? Are you an IDIOT! Not in this lifetime my friend."

But of course we must be polite. . .even in the face of contagious diseases. . .so working against every grain in my body I moved my cake to the right for the idiot to sniff. I of course am the real idiot in this situation. I don't even remember what he said. . .something in agreement, as I, with stifled bitterness, put the sniffed cake into my mouth and ate it. . .so as not to offend.

And who. . .tell me who. . .sniffs another person's cake???!!!. . .even when they don't have hepatitis?

Hopefully my addiction to being polite hasn't caught me a contagious disease.

That was afternoon.

Then the evening brought Last Chance Harvey and if you read Tuesday August 17th's post. . .you know how the day ended. . .in tears. It was all just a bit much.

Thus passed another public holiday in Indonesia. And I've come to the conclusion that it is counter productive to be polite to socially inept people. Better to say no or else you'll be invaded by their social ineptness (so many liberties taken!!!! argh!) and before you know it you too will wind up with a sniffed cake. And nobody needs that. . .trust me.

Last Chance Harvey

Went on a DVD buying spree today. INDONESIAN INDEPENDENCE DAY!

Usually they have canoe races but since almost everyone is fasting, or supposed to be. . .they called off the canoes.

Smokey day over Palembang. Rain too.

Lots of people at the mall.

I bought. . .let me count. . . 9 Bollywood movies

1 documentary called Jesus in India

Percy Jackson, The Hurt Locker, Slumdog Millionaire, Iron Man 2, Children of the Corn, Pretty Woman, and Last Chance Harvey. . .all for under 10 bucks. . .pirated of course.

Watched the Jesus doc and Last Chance Harvey tonight. Love that movie. . .Denis Hoffman. . .Emma Thompson. . .brought me back to happier times. . .when ex-beau wasn't ex. . .and our family friend Randy was still alive.

Lots of tears fell on Sumatra tonight let me tell ya. Cathartic though I guess. . .makes you really remember that you should enjoy the people (and animals) you have when you have them. One never quite does get to say a proper goodbye. . .

Make sure to tell someone you love them today!

xoxo

Tuesday

Jambi

Just got back last night from the jungle ensconced city of Jambi (about 7-8 hours Northwest of Palembang). Saw what was there, an old Buddhist-Hindu site, and came back fast. Too much religious talk. . .super annoying.

The trip mainly involved two night busses. Arrived Saturday at 2am, left Saturday at 8pm, got back to Palembang Sunday at 3am. Bumpy, bumpy, roads. . .insane driving, coolest part. . .a breezy truck stop in the middle of nowhere. . .we were regulars for the weekend.

It's Ramadan now and out of respect for the Muslim guide and my Muslim travel partner I didn't eat or drink anything all day during our temple trekking excursion. Was very thirsty and cranky by evening. The guide said that all Muslims fasting have the same thirst. It is the same for everyone. It was an anxious wait for the clock to tick to 6:15 at last so we could eat. . .a delicious meal prepared by the equanimous Anne. . .awesome mother who's oldest son is an artist on Java with dreadlocks dating a very tall girl from Ohio. . .anyway. . . this fasting keeps going all day every day (no food from 4am to 6pm) until the 2nd week of September. A small group torture. . .very intense.. . .even the little ones.

One day was enough for me. . .it's Sunday now and I'm my own boss. . .a boss with a grumbling tummy. . . think I'll make some oatmeal.

Jambi Haiku

wet candy temples

Islam and banana rose

small talk over fast