Wednesday, April 28, 2004

March for Women's LIves

A group of students from NYU's NOW chapter went to the march in DC. Check out this link for pictures. http://www.picturetrail.com/gallery/view?p=999&gid=4197042&uid=2155616&members=1

While I don't always support the reasons behind select few individuals' decisions to have abortions, I still strongly believe that it's a choice, no matter what. I truly believe that many women who had abortions made well-thought out decisions. So, I'm a pro-choicer. Imagine how hard it was for many women to make the decision to follow through abortions. It's not easy. I am not going to judge them for the decisions they made. I think they were brave. Their rights are just as equal as the rights of women who decide to not have abortions. The option has to always be available for us to choose from. No man or government will ever deny a woman's right to choose.

Tuesday, April 27, 2004

Life is a World of Silence.

I wrote this during college. It got published few times. It was written in response to my frustration with a classmate who made assumptions about being "deaf."

Life is a world of silence. I cannot hear the air conditioner making endless noises - noises that may drive a hearing person crazy. I cannot hear people say things about someone else. I do not hear the siren wailing faintly in the distance, nor can I hear the bees buzzing as they travel around the classroom. I cannot hear people laughing out in the hall. I will never hear my professor's voice, the steady rhythm of a person hurrying down the corridor to class, music playing on the radio, or someone softly crying herself to sleep. These are sounds I cannot hear. Yet life is full of noises.

Life is a world of silence, but I see the curtains fluttering as the breeze comes and goes. I see mouths moving as they communicate: I see the lights of sirens passing by on the street. Bees zig-zagging around the room and stealing the attention of my interpreter do not escape my notice. Silhouettes of people running or walking down the hallway, and my roommate's chest moving in small jerky patterns under a blanket in the dark room as she cries, I see. The light flickering tells me there is loud music being played in a room nearby. I see sounds, yet life is more than just seeing.

Life is a world of silence, but I feel. The steady rhythm of the elevator making its way up and down the building is familiar to me. Musical beats resonate through the bedroom walls. If I place my hands on one wall, I can feel music. Yet each separate wall becomes one music as I sit on my bed. I can feel who is walking by my room. All people have their own walks (just like they have their own voices.) I feel the vibration of a voice accompanying footsteps as a person comes closer. I feel the air conditioner rattling as the reverberations travel across the floor and hit my wooden bedframe. I feel the boom of a young man's voice as he talks in a room two doors away. The bangings on the floor as a basketball bounces, I feel. Cold air rushes over my feet while I type at the computer. People hear the wind rushing in; I see the wind, and I feel it, without looking out the window. I can feel the rain hitting the building and the ground. I feel sounds, yet life is more than feeling.

Life is a world of silence. My ears may be deaf to sounds, but my body is not deaf to noises around me. Life is not limited to my auditory sense. Others may hear through their ears; I hear through my eyes and I feel through my entire body. My life is not a world of silence; I live in a world of sound.

Sitting Pigeons

Emma, my cat, is crouched down and furtively staring at a sitting pigeon outside my window. The pigeon is sitting on the roof of the Food Network Channel studio. For the past few months, I've learned a good deal about the mating rituals of pigeons. Now, I'm curious to see where and when they hatch their eggs. Until then, I'll just follow the gaze of Emma whenever she stares outta the window at the sitting pigeons.

Missionary Wanted in Paris!

Out of all places my mother has gone to on missionary trips, she is going to Paris! She said she's going to minister to the spiritually-broken people. I go back and forth between laughing at Paris "needing" missionary work and considering how my mother views the spiritual plight of Parisians. I really try to give her credit. Yet, out of all places, Paris! My family teases her about her true reason for going to Paris. After Paris, my mother will take a quick side trip to visit my aunt and uncle in Budapest, Hungary. Aunt Margie is thrilled that someone in the family will visit her. No one wanted to visit her & Justin in Saudi Arabia (which wouldn't have been permited anyway) or Dubai, United Arab Emirates. I would have visited Aunt Margie and Uncle Justin in Dubai if I had the financial means to go. It would have been great to see the "westernized" gateway city of the Middle East. Back to my mother, I wonder where she will go after Paris. Who knows?

Kiev or Bust

Kiev or bust, once again. My parents are flying to Ukraine in few weeks for a 15 days-long trip. Last year, Dad went to Ukraine 4-5 times. My mother went 1-2 times. (My mother went to Mozambique, Brazil, etc so I lost track of her travels.) Dad's on a board there to help set up medical clinics, an orphanage-based school, and bring well-needed equipments/materials for a residential addiciton rehab center for men who have HIV/AIDS. The last time Dad went, he brought a check from his church to purchase a used bus for the addiction center. For Christmas, I gave Dad small toys and sports equipments to bring to the orphanage and rehab center. Dad is approaching retirement age. I won't be surprised if he ends up moving there someday or at least buy an apartment in Ukraine. He has strong ties with Ukraine and loves going there. Nothing makes me more happy about my Dad than to see him brighten up when he talks about the people he meets there.

Monday, April 26, 2004

Ever Wonder?

Ever wonder who you would be if you grew up hearing and who you would have been today if you were never born/become deaf? If I was hearing, I would probably be flying the friendly skies around the world after a stint in the Air Force or Navy. Perhaps I'd be working in the United Nations fighting for social justice or working overseas. I think I would have still ended up a social worker sooner or later. I admit that once in a while, I wonder how my life would be if I was hearing. Yet, I consider being deaf a blessing in many ways and am grateful that I am deaf. Becoming deaf as a baby permanently changed my life path forever. If I never became deaf, I would have probably grown up in Texas, wore big hair, have a Texan drawl, become chummy with the Bush family, and eventually gone A&M University where my father taught at. Who knows? Sometimes we are better off not knowing the what ifs. It's nice to just wonder and leave it a fantasy while enjoying your real life as a deaf person. Hearing would have constrained me from the rich life as I know it. For me, being deaf opens up a whole wider world full of opportunities and possibilities.

Midnight Picnic

If I end up flying into Reagan Airport, I will go to the FDR park on the Potomac River for a midnight picnic. It's one of the most beautiful spots in DC, especially on a clear night with the diamond-filled sky and the moon smiling down at the laughing water. To your right, airplanes are landing and taking off from the airport. Behind the airport is the illuminated Pentagon. To your left across the water is the infamous waterfront row with old houses and restaurants. Ahead of you is the huge statue of arms and feet sticking out of the ground. If you walk north, you'll hit the Roosevelt Memorial where you can read massive carved quotes or walk to the water. Sit on the bench and watch tourists snapping pictures of Washington, DC. If you dare, take off your shoes and run back down the grassy park to the pinnacle of Roosevelt Park where land meets water.

Sunday, April 25, 2004

Barbara Kingsolver

Just finished reading Kingsolver's "Pigs in Heaven." I loved this book! Kingsolver's writing is cleverly musical and visual. She gives life to words and stories without resorting to big, long, and fancy words that some other writers tend to hide behind. Some writers seem to think that the more letters there are in a word within their stories, the better they might be as writers. A good writer is a good storyteller whose words, short or long, become larger than life. What's more is that Kingsolver also has a good sense of humor. Here are several of my favorite lines in her book.

'Yeah, but this one takes the prize. She's accepted Barbie as her personal savior.'

'I think that's why Las Vegas is the way it is. It's kind of like the only trash can for a hundred miles, so all the garbage winds up in it.'

"His mouth and hers exchange a gentle pressure and their tongues salute each other, blind sea creatures without armor, touching one another's soft surfaces with hopeful recognition."

"Alice breathes a little deeper. Sympathizing over the behavior of men is the baking soda of women's friendships, it seems, the thing that makes them bubble and rise."

"She stops trying to talk for a while, since there is nothing to say about a lost child that can change one star in a father's lonely sky."

"For reasons she couldn't explain, the naked, curled little nuts remind her of babies waiting to get born."

'I don't know about that. You got a real nice talking voice. I was thinking the other day, if I had a telephone I'd call up Alice just to listen at her voice. I bet you could sing like a bird.' 'A turkey buzzard,' Alice says."

"They rock against each other, holding on, and the birds in the forest raise their voices to drown out the secret of creation."

"She feels she has died and gone to the Planet of Men Who Cook."

"Annawake exhales sharply. 'I've had enough men in my life to last me about seven lifetimes. Think about it, Dell, growing up with all you guys, and Daddy, and Uncle Ledger. All those penises! You all had me surrounded like a picket fence.'

'Annawake, you've got you a good heart. Run with it. Your whole life, you've been afraid of yourself.....Birdy told me.'




Saturday, April 24, 2004

Poets Die Younger

"Going Early Into That Good Night" by Felicia R. Lee caught my eye while reading The New York Times online. She wrote about a study that shows that poets tend to die younger than other types of writers. Check out the article. I've always thought that many people in the literary art, art, and entertainment worlds were often quite interesting and sometimes really in touch with their humanness and the world(s) around them. This article wasn't too surprising yet I never really thought of a connection with dying younger and being a poet/writer/artist. If you think of it, some of greatest contributors of our times were often crazy, eccentric to some degree, or lived with some form of mental illness at some time or during their entire adult lives.

Friday, April 23, 2004

Uptown-Downtown Avenue Walk

When I first moved to NYC, one of my goals was to walk up an entire Manhattan avenue from the uptown beginning to the downtown end. Since then, I've walked down most of Broadway with my aunt, uncle, and brother (last Christmas). The world we walked through constantly evolved as we walked down Broadway. This summer, I will be walking from uptown to downtown possibly on 8th Avenue or 5th Avenue. Would anyone like to join?

Stroll in Soho

Went for a lovely stroll in Soho tonight.

After work, I was lost in my thoughts and ended up walking to the wrong subway station. I took the train anyway and walked from the western side (near Houston) through the heart of Soho near Little Italy. I enjoyed looking at the window displays while walking to 32 Spring Street. On the way, I walked past Whoopi Goldberg.

At Lombardi's, I met a friend for dinner. Its "sister" restaurant and friendly competitor over and under the Brooklyn Bridge is Grimaldi's in Dumbo area. It's on that same street where that famous shot of the Manhattan cityscape (from the Brooklyn side) is shown in many movies.

Off the point - If you're ever in Brooklyn, go to the Dumbo (down under manhattan bridge overpass) area for the underground art and blackbox theater world, good restaurants, famous waterfront homemade brooklyn ice cream shop, playground, and the waterfront view of Manhattan. I also recommend going to the Brooklyn Promenade in Brooklyn Heights. Montague Street has good restaurants and stores. Down the street, you'll hit the promenade where you can see a monument where George Washington once had an office or building of some sort back then.

Back to my story - At Lombardi's, the ingredients were excellent. Pizza wasn't bad. I liked the salad. We split one small pizza with marinara sauce, homemade meatballs, onions, fresh buffalo mozzarella, and raw garlic. Yum! Reviews often compare Grimaldi's and Lombardi's. I vote for Grimaldi's.

We went for a stroll around Soho and passed that long line of people waiting to enter the new Bloomingdale Soho store. There's nothing like going for a stroll with a dear friend and just laugh, talk about anything, and enjoy the occasional comfortable silence. It's nice when you both look at something/someone and share thoughts/laughs without saying anything. After a rough time lately, that was one of the best medicine and just what I needed to enjoy the evening and forget about what's been going on lately. When you experience something rough, you appreciate the finer, lovelier, and gentler things more in life. Anyways, we ended up at Space Untitled (133 Greene Street) to stay dry while chatting more before heading home. It was quite a nice stroll through Soho tonight.

Now I'm home drying off from walking in the rain. This weekend, it's endless studying, reading, and working on my final papers. I sure am looking forward to being done with this semester. There's nothing like a good stroll through Soho with a friend to kick off your weekend and the beginning of the end of this semester.

Thursday, April 22, 2004

Deaf & Dumb Bush

The Republican Convention is unfortunately coming to town this summer. This means the R-men will invade the city. Let's hope that many protesters show up.

This reminds me of April 15. That night, I went to the Post Office across from Penn Station to drop off my state tax payment. There was a handful of entertaining Anti-Bush protesters on the steps of the Post Office. It was quite a humorous spectacle. While walking through the crowded sidewalk, Joe and I ran into a group of women dressed in black with american motifs plastered over their bodies. They wore missles as dildos/dicks. (Interpret it whatever way you want.) They sang while a fake Bush (with a well-done pinata type head) bobbled around. This Bush approached me and Joe. He kept on nodding, so I knew that he was talking to me. I indicated to him that I was deaf by covering my ear. He copied me then kept on talking. Again, I covered my ears, shook my head, then covered my mouth. Bush covered his ears, mouth, then laughed before walking away. I can only infer what he made out of that. The real Bush indeed is deaf and dumb when it comes to American and International welfare and policy.

Wednesday, April 21, 2004

Pager God Update

Here's the update you're dying for on the Pager God. The meeting yesterday was quick. He was the only one standing at the corner by the subway entrance. Everyone else was bustling by. We made eye contact. I raised my eyebrow questioningly. He raised his questioningly. I pointed, "You?" He raised his eyebrow again and leaned forward. I gestured the pager. He pointed back then reached inside his black leather jacket for the pager. Bells from heaven shook when I saw that small black pager slowly come out of his pocket and toward my open hand. I thanked him. He nodded his welcome. We quickly parted in opposite directions. I went around the corner and stood there with my pager checking for messages. No, I did not slowly run my fingers across the pager keyboard. It sure felt good to be connected with the wireless world once again.

For those of you sitting at the edge of your seats awaiting for the gaydar report, he's straight as hell, shorter than he described himself, and quite handsome. Ideal sperm donor. (Sorry, had to say it.) Char & Kate, he's yours. I've got his number.

Pigs In Heaven

"Pigs In Heaven" is my bedtime reading tonight. Out of all of the readings I've had to do for a specific class, the final exam revolves around this book. Nonetheless, while reading it on the train this morning, I found a line I loved. Here it goes: "A leftover smile of the moon hides in the bottom branches of the sugar maple, teasing her to smile back." If I remember the calendar correctly, the moon will be smiling tonight.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004

South Sex Diet

Just had to jump the bandwagon and come up with a new diet. Tonight, a friend and I discussed sex over dinner and joked about the fad diet bombardment these days. A mutual friend's strategy came up during discussion. The friend's body looks quite attractive and in shape. One day, I asked her what she did to stay in shape. She ate poorly and hated exercising. One thing I knew was that she had sex all the time. So, I decided to call that the South Sex Diet. Sex can be beneficial for ur body and give you a good workout while you're at it. So, try out the South Sex Diet.

Note: Please practice safe sex while trying out this diet.

Monday, April 19, 2004

The Swan

Did any of you watch "The Swan" on Fox channel tonight? Two "ugly" women commit to a free total makeover which includes plastic surgery, dermatology, cosmetic denistry, therapy, coach, and fitness training. They don't see themselves for 3 months. At the end of the 3rd month, they're transformed from ducklings into swans. In front of the transformation team, the woman walks up to a curtained wall. When she's ready, the curtains are lifted to reveal a mirror where the woman sees her new self for the first time. After each woman sees herself (during separate times), both women reenter the room and find out if they were chosen for the Swan Pageant.

I am all for transformations, especially when it's nurturing for the soul and esteem. These women have guts to do it on national television. However, what peeves me is the fact that 2 women are pitted against each other only for one to be chosen to enter the Swan Pageant. Aren't all women beautiful swans, no matter what? Why are women even compared to birds during analogies?

My Bro and His First Car

My brother recently drove his first car, a blue 19-something Nissan, cross country in 4 days.

My grandmother, whose Alzheimer's has advanced quite rapidly over the past few months, offered her car to my brother over a year ago. There were some usual family drama in between then and now. *tornado* Nonetheless, it was time for my brother to pick up the car this month. When my brother picked up the car, she didn't remember offering it to him or even owning a car. Later, during one of her good moments, she remembered and was happy to help my brother out.

My brother has survived living in LA since 1998 without a car. Imagine. It is possible, after all. Since my brother is leaving the safe world of academia, he'll be entering the "real world" of working. Having a car will help tremendously with finding and maintaining a full-time job. For the time being, he will temp as a runner for a movie trailer company. I look forward to hearing about the blessings of being a first-time car owner. I hope there are no tribulations.

I sure remember my first car, a small 1997 "Sapphire" (translation: bright purple) Ford Aspire hatchback. That little thing took me on a great road trip with my brother to the southwestern corner of Virginia and numerous trips with people. That car racked up over 60,000 miles in one year before being traded in for a reliable black 1998 station wagon. Imagine the dinner-plate size of the car dealer's eyes when she realized how much mileage was on that car during trade-in.

Today, I still have my beloved loaded station wagon sitting in my parents' driveway, ready for weekend getaways, visits, and local errands.

By the way, have you ever named your cars? An ex-girlfriend called hers Spiffy. I never named my cars. I just name mine "Car." Got any ideas?

Pager God

There indeed is a Pager God after all. A gentleman by the name of Peter called from the Bronx. He had my pager. We will meet tomorrow at a corner. If I was straight, my head would be racing with fantasies about meeting a tall dark handsome Spanish stranger in the heart of Manhattan by fate. Perhaps he's the future husband for one of my friends. What an "Anne of Green Gables" moment!

Sunday, April 18, 2004

Damn Pager

Damn pager went for a free ride after I exited the cab. After a full day of meeting for breakfast with a colleague, a Deaf Lesbian Financial Club meeting, and dinner with a dear friend, I was feeling quite tired and content. While smoking and walking back to my friend's place in the village, I began to feel nauseous. When we got to his place, I had some water. The nausea increased. So, I decided to catch a cab back home before I decorated the streets with my vomit. I fell asleep in the cab. When I got out of the cab and slammed the door, the cab immediately sped off. While slamming, I reached for my pocket and realized that my pager was gone. I ran after the cab for 1 block and yelled at it to stop. A man who was getting out of his car looked at me as I ran by. The cab made a quick swerve onto the West Side Highway and disappeared. I ran back up the block and up to the 4th floor pissed off. It distracted me from my nausea momentarily. Funny thing was that I wasn't out of breath or anything. So, I filed a "lost property" report online with the NYC Taxi Commission and sent a message to my pager with the contact info. Let's hope that the cab driver is one of those "many good people in the city" that Kate believes in.

Saturday, April 17, 2004

Slate

Slate. This was the first lounge bar I've enjoyed in a long time. I loved the environment and feel. The company was good with "real" people. I ended up being parked on a couch talking with few people for few hours before heading home. Downstairs, the rest of the folks in our company were playing pool. The lighting was a bit better than the average lounge. Hands were still gray, nearly invisible, and blurry for me to see, but there was barely just enough light to barely make out what people were saying. That's such a blessing compared to other darker places I've visited. I am slating this place for another visit in the future.

Thursday, April 15, 2004

Timeless Friends

This morning, a deaf friend whom I hadn't spoken with in nearly 5 years Immed me. I was in a rush to go to class when she said, "Hello." I was pleasantly surprised. So, we talked for a while as if these 5 years never passed by. We caught up on news about ourselves and everyone we knew in the deaf grapevine. I left my home with a smile on my face. It's nice when you realize that the friendship and love is there, no matter how many years have passed by.

Subway Turnstile Imbeciles

I had the fortune of meeting a subway turnstile imbecile yesterday morning. People got off the Rector Street station and moved like ants in hordes toward the turnstile exit. One by one, we went through the vertical cage turnstile and headed for the stairs. I noticed a sole man outside of the platform between 2 turnstiles. A metrocard was in his hand. He stood there turning his head from side to side as people exited left and right. As I got closer to the turnstile, I watched his face slowly become redder and redder like the rising fiery red in the thermostat. When I got to the turnstile to file out of the station, he was already red at 104 degrees. When we made contact, he began muttering. I smiled at him and raised my eyebrows. He started talking angrily to me. As I exited and passed him, I smiled and said bye. Up the stairs I went. What an imbecile he was. He could have simply gone through the main entrance and entered through one of the 6 turnstiles available there. Instead, this imbecile chose to use one of these small subway exits with these cage turnstiles and no booth. What a waste. Good thing it was raining outside. It would have cooled him off as he exited the station wherever his destination was at.

Monday, April 12, 2004

Coming Soon to a Coffee Shop near You: Reversal Fishbowl Gawking Tours of NYC

While waiting for a friend to show up at the Coffee Pot (49th St/9th Ave), I noticed a group of 5-6 ASL students practicing signing. So, I gawked.

It was such a luxury to be outside of the fishbowl and be the one to gawk at the ASL students inside the fishbowl. Two students noticed me staring at them and became uncomfortable. Their eyes kept on darting back and forth between the group and me. The decision to keep on staring, stop staring, or frequently and intermittently stare at them was quite exciting and tempting. There it is! I said it! I'm out of the closet now. That side of me does exist. I chose to intermittently stare at them and occasionally grin whenever I made eye contact with them. Me bad. *shaking head with a smirk* I wonder what type of lesson they learned from this gawking experience.

Here's another proof that this side of me exists. When my friend arrived, we started to talk. I asked my friend to stand and block while I updated her about the students. She slowly moved her eyes in the direction I pointed then turned her head to gawk at them. When she sat down across from me on the couch, she stared at them. We both gawked.

We non-chalantly chatted for a while and caught up on our news as all deaf folks do. We checked on the ASL student fishes every now and then. All of a sudden, in the corner of my eye, I saw the entire group of heads suddenly turn in the direction of us. My friend, who has Usher Syndrome, immediately followed my quick eagle-head turn to the group. They immediately turned their heads back. We returned to our chat. They turned heads again as fast as a bullet. Our superbullet speed beated them. We looked back at them. 'Twas a gawking war. We won.

When we left, we passed the table and totally ignored them as their heads followed our movement from the couch to the door.

Note: I frequently see ASL students gathered at the Coffee Pot, including on the weekends. Gawking Tours are available for your pleasure when you visit NYC. For schedule availability, ReversalFishbowlGawkingToursofNYC@mail.com.

Sunday, April 11, 2004

Connecticut

Got up early to catch the 8:07 train to CT. It was nice to be in my hometown for a bit. A friend picked me up, and we did our usual breakfast at the diner in town. What is it with deaf people and diners? We had a great breakfast. He talked about his recent cruise in the western Carribean area with a group of deaf gay men. His cruise was a lot less promiscuous than the other famous gay cruise line, Atlantis. My friend wanted to avoid that scene. The ship line my friend went on had an older crowd. Do gay men become less promiscuous as they get older, or is it because they've finally found their life partners? Or, for some, it's partner of the year or decade. It was great for him to meet life partners who had been together for at least 8-10 years. It gave him hope that he could find that man of his dreams.

Anyways, we stopped by Old Navy afterwards. It was so nice to shop in a spacious store with great lighting, cleanly stacked piles and racks of clothes, and lower sales taxes. If I wanted to, I would just spread my arms out and twirl around like a little girl without touching any racks. That's how spacious it was. I delighted in being able to see the real color shade under the light. Sometimes I buy clothes. At home, I realize that the shade's different from what it appeared in the store. Today, that didn't happen.

I'm going to leave soon to pick up my grandmother before heading to Milford for an Easter dinner at Rainbow Gardens. If you are ever in Milford, go to "the Green" where the Rainbow Gardens is located at. My great aunt has taken us there every year for the past few years. It's so nice to just go out and have a peaceful Easter without any kitchen drama to deal with. And, there's no house cleaning to do before relatives arrive. Just get in your car and go to the restaurant for few hours of good food and talk. Besides Rainbow Garden, there's also a great Stonehenge Inn nearby with the best oyster bar in the area. There are good non-seafood and vegetarian choices on the menu for those of us who do not eat seafood. Afterwards, folks can walk to the beach or piers. There are small stores in the area too. There's the Princess Salon that my great aunt has gone to for years. It's the kind for older folks who dye their hair "princess blue." Contemporary salons are available nearby for us younger folks.

I may sound like a CT Tourism worker in this blog. Worry not. I left my heart behind in NYC and will be more than glad to reclaim it when I return to NYC tonight. CT's great for a day getaway. NYC's always great for life. There's no place like NYC.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

Add Anything to NYC?

If you could, what would you add to NYC? NYC pretty much has everything such as great restaurants, performing and fine arts, underground parties, cultural events, communities, infamous cat-sized rats, people-watching, legendary subway system, skyscrapers, and many more. What would you like to see NYC have, if anything?

Good Friday Church Service

I admit it. I went to church last night for the Good Friday church service. It's the night that Jesus carried a cross up the hill and was crucified. It was my first time going to a church for GLBTI (gay, lesbian, etc) christians. Interpreters were provided. The original interpreter was out of town, so 2 interpreters came in. One was jewish. We were surprised to run into each other at the church. We asked each other what we were doing there. I was curious to check out the GLBTI church. About 8 deaf people showed up. I was the only female deaf lady there.

The famous Lavendar Light chorus sang. The church floors were deaf-friendly wooden. I could feel their movements and feet banging while singing. I knew when the song was good whenever I felt many feets behind me stamping or tapping in rhythm or excitement. It was like vibrating and banging into heaven. All of us deafies just sat there watching the interpreters and folks around us. Naturally, none of us sang or banged along.

The guest pastor, who founded the church over 30 years ago, flew in from San Francisco to do the sermon. He told us upfront before starting that he was recently diagnosed with Bell's Palsy. He didn't want us to look at him and wonder what was up with his face. Almost half of his face was partially paralyzed. I could tell that he spoke quite loudly cuz i felt his voice booming through the wooden floor. His face was very animated as if to make up for the paralyzed parts. His feets banged whenever he made points throughout his sermon.

Church leaders and members read out names of GLBTI people who died of various causes. We remembered them. 200+ candles were slowly lit around the big long room. This was the first time I've seen people being remembered on Good Friday alongside Jesus. A beautiful woman sang during the candle lighting. Her expressions were so clear. I didn't need to watch the interpreter because you could read/feel her emotions and hand gesturing clearly. Besides, she was a cute beautiful babe. I sat there admiring her eyes and beautiful luscious lips as she sang *mmm!* Her caramel chocolate skin looked so delicious; it looked more delicious than Godiva chocolate. *mmm* *cat wink*

Friday, April 09, 2004

Saving Trees

How many trees would we save if tampons and pads were abolished?

Dreaming of Menopause

I've been dreaming of menopause these days. In fact, I've been dreaming of menopause since age 12. I sure am looking forward to the day that I give birth. Having a baby someday is the only reason I tell myself every month to put up with with tampons and pads crap when Auntie Flo comes a-knocking for a visit. Then, there's no reason to keep my uterus. I'd gladly take it out and slam it against the wall until it pulverizes. Don't get me wrong. I'm fortunate to not have bad PMS every month. It happens only every few months. But, let me tell you this. The hormonal rollercoaster rides it takes me on for few hours or a couple of days every few months will not be sorely missed. For now, I'm counting the days until menopause.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

The Subway Station Newspaper Guy

Today, the subway station newspaper guy did something that caught my eye. He waved. I did a double look and kept on walking. He waved more frantically and moved in the direction I was walking. I looked again and saw him. He gestured for me to come over. Everyday, I walk past this guy on my way home. Sometimes I say hello to him. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I stop by to buy the latest edition of my favorite magazines. And, today, he caught my attention with his frantic waving hands. He gestured that there were new magazines. I looked. While I was looking, he took out a ripped piece of cardboard from the cigarette carton box and wrote down, "Can you hear?" I looked at him and said, "No, I can't hear." He noded and said, "Ah, that's why." In NYC, not every newspaper stand guy figure this out. This one had some brain. He gestured for me to keep on looking then shoved the carton paper under my eyes. I looked and read, "Hearing aid?" Now, this got my attention. How many newspaper guys ask you about using or having hearing aids after finding out you are deaf? Most workers, especially cab drivers, ask me if I can speak after finding out I don't hear. (Cab drivers usually don't believe it and repeatedly ask in various gestures if I really cannot hear in this and that way before resorting to the "you can't speak" pointing to throat and shaking head with raised eyebrows line. Remind me to tell you one day about that serious cab driver who gave me religious instructions to cure myself.) Anyways, how many ordinary people ask you about hearing aids? I told him I had one at home. He asked, "Does it help?" Who ever asks you this question at the subway station newspaper stand? I said, "Sometimes but not like it would help you." He paused as if in deep thought then nodded. Then, he gestured me to go away after giving me the magazines I just purchased. As I walked away, I looked back, and we waved our goodbyes.

Tuesday, April 06, 2004

Yours Truly....

It's April. Out of all months during the year, I'm choosing April to reflect on the past year or two. There have been certain people who were quite a challenge to interact and deal with. Others had such positive presences and were blessings. Let's put it this way. I learned a lot about people, myself, and ways of "being" authentic selves over the past two years. I don't feel like going on and on. So, good night.

Inception of going outloud...

Have been wondering a lot these days... and decided to just start wondering outloud.