I don't know if anyone out there in internet space even reads my posts and I often wonder why I just don't get out my journal and write instead but I find some solace in this blog.
It's 8:00 am, no alarm sounded this morning and it was a great opportunity to sleep in however I just woke up, laid there, and stared at the ceiling. So I made coffee, read the paper, looked out the window, and lit a smoke. This week work has been hell, no not the type of hell you get placed in for some random sin you committed over your lifetime by a loveless and thankless god, but the real kind of hell you find yourself staring at when you feel the absence of hope.
Here is the breakdown of my week at work:
-51/50'd a man who has been making such great progress however he relapsed and came up with a plan that he was going to start random fights with strangers until he found one that would kick his ass to the point of death. When I asked if he was suicidal he said "yes, I'm a freak, wouldn't you want to be dead if you were me?' So he was held in the hospital for one day and I went to pick up when he was released, he appeared fine. The same night he relapsed again and tore apart his room at his board and care. He has sense been MIA however will call me on my cell from pay phones to tell me it's only a matter of time now till he dies and to take care of myself. Helpless.
-Talked another man into going to the hospital because I believe he has gangrene in his foot. His ankle is the size of a grapefruit and it is entirely black, he can no longer walk on it. His reason for not going to the hospital, 'I dont care, let it fall off, my life is shitty anyway, maybe people will be nicer to me if I only have one leg.' I just stared at him. His plan after we left a hospital that essentially just gave him a cane and told him if he didn't go to County hospital he would loose his leg soon, he lacks Medi-Cal, is to wait until his leg starts to smell (decompose) then he'll find someone to cut it off. Helpless.
-Worked with another women who has two black eyes and only comes in to see me after her boyfriend has kicked the shit out of her, she tells me its over when she visits, she understands why she has to leave, and how next time she may die. As I am leaving work on friday I see them walking across an intersection together holding hands. Helpless.
-Placed a man in rehab after he assured me he was ready to quit and he was actually making great progress. He called me from the rehab on thursday to let me know there were more drugs in the program than skid row. He said 'Its great this place is like a hotel and because there are so many visitors to the people in the program they bring drugs, and its cheaper then buying drugs on the streets, but dont worry, I am still trying to quit and I just want to be honest with you.' Helpless.
-Visited a women who is in her sixties at her hotel room that has no bathroom, only shared bathroom down the hall, and she informed me cheerfully she had made a makeshift toilet in her room because there was a man who was threatening her for money so she didn't even feel safe enough to use the bathroom in the hotel. She literally will sit in a chair and take a shit into a plastic bag then when she feels safe will throw it out, sometimes the bags pile up in her room and she puts them under her bed. Helpless.
I feel so helpless, I stand aside my peeps as they take one step forward and eight steps backward. I closed three cases of peeps who went to jail so they were dis-enrolled, after we made progress, only to inherit three more people that put me back at step one: outreach, engage, and try to help.
I feel like I am putting a bandaid on a on a car crash victim and telling them it will be ok, when in the back of my head I know the person is going to die. From where I stand it seems so logical, yet from where these people stand there is no logic. I think about them when I lay down to go to bed at night, the first thing when I wake up, and throughout my day.
I have to find something to do today, my day off, to actually make it a day off.
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Welcome to my feathery world of hats, pigeon praises, political rants, family matters, and thoughts over cups of tea. www.chubbypigeon.com
Pigeon Pleaser
Why Chubby Pigeon
Laying the Egg that Became Chubby Pigeon:
When I was in 6th grade there was a boy in my glass named Darren Musto. I have a very poor memory yet somehow I will forever remember this kids name. Like most girls, I met puberty much sooner then the boys in my class and for me this meant being about 2 feet taller then most of them. I also developed hips, tits, and ass much younger as I was blessed to have the family chubby gene. This kid Darren would stand behind me in the hallway as we pilled into class and mutter the word ‘AMAZON’ in my ear. At the time I had no idea what it meant but it didn’t sound pleasing. I wanted so badly to be shorter that I would often stand hunched over with both kneecaps bent in a vain attempt to appear shorter. When I look back on my adolescent pictures now I simply look like I had some type of physical defect. Ah those were the awkward days of puberty. Fuck em.
As I grew older I discovered the origin of this word. Amazon: a notably tall, physically strong or strong willed woman. I am 5’11. Yes I am tall and yes I am chubby. It didn’t take long for me to appreciate what this meant. In our society tits come in very handy. As John Waters once wrote –the first thing a woman learns is that tits are a weapon, if you’ve got em stick em out.’
I then began to notice that much of my teenage years were spent in pursuit of getting other girls into bed that had these assets. I appreciated all body types, yet there was something more enticing to me about girls with a little extra junk in their trunk. I also have a phobia of bones, which may contribute to picking those partners I intended on fucking to have extra padding. To me nothing is sexier then a voluptuous girl confident in her body type and willing to show it off without the fear of being judged, ridiculed, or harassed.
About three years ago my depression soared and I began to doubt everything beautiful about my body. I found my weight to be my enemy, my tits and ass too big, my age too old, and in general I was just fat. I found myself hating skinny girls because it appeared to be what everyone found attractive. The fact is I can never be skinny, small, or younger. I am not a girl who giggles or asks questions I know the answers to to make other people feel smart, yet I found myself contemplating these horrific acts.
I started therapy, worked on and continue working through these challenges and now think fuck it. I am not an advocate of American plastic surgery and view the act as another component to the hyper capitalism fear of death oppression and expectations women in this society fall victim to. So, I squatted and out came the egg that cracked open into chubby pigeon. I want to have a forum to display what I think beauty is. I wanted to have a place where I can share my political ideologies, videos, sexual explorations, pigeon adventures, and display my fetish for beautiful chubby women wearing ornate hats.
I want to read your comments, hear your opinions, and listen to your stories. As women in this society we are exploited, pitted against each other, oppressed, and are given a list of unattainable expectations by men who hold over us an ideal that I would never want to fuck, the same men who find self-confidence to be sexy but do so little to build it. So here it is, Chubby Pigeon, welcome to my nest.
When I was in 6th grade there was a boy in my glass named Darren Musto. I have a very poor memory yet somehow I will forever remember this kids name. Like most girls, I met puberty much sooner then the boys in my class and for me this meant being about 2 feet taller then most of them. I also developed hips, tits, and ass much younger as I was blessed to have the family chubby gene. This kid Darren would stand behind me in the hallway as we pilled into class and mutter the word ‘AMAZON’ in my ear. At the time I had no idea what it meant but it didn’t sound pleasing. I wanted so badly to be shorter that I would often stand hunched over with both kneecaps bent in a vain attempt to appear shorter. When I look back on my adolescent pictures now I simply look like I had some type of physical defect. Ah those were the awkward days of puberty. Fuck em.
As I grew older I discovered the origin of this word. Amazon: a notably tall, physically strong or strong willed woman. I am 5’11. Yes I am tall and yes I am chubby. It didn’t take long for me to appreciate what this meant. In our society tits come in very handy. As John Waters once wrote –the first thing a woman learns is that tits are a weapon, if you’ve got em stick em out.’
I then began to notice that much of my teenage years were spent in pursuit of getting other girls into bed that had these assets. I appreciated all body types, yet there was something more enticing to me about girls with a little extra junk in their trunk. I also have a phobia of bones, which may contribute to picking those partners I intended on fucking to have extra padding. To me nothing is sexier then a voluptuous girl confident in her body type and willing to show it off without the fear of being judged, ridiculed, or harassed.
About three years ago my depression soared and I began to doubt everything beautiful about my body. I found my weight to be my enemy, my tits and ass too big, my age too old, and in general I was just fat. I found myself hating skinny girls because it appeared to be what everyone found attractive. The fact is I can never be skinny, small, or younger. I am not a girl who giggles or asks questions I know the answers to to make other people feel smart, yet I found myself contemplating these horrific acts.
I started therapy, worked on and continue working through these challenges and now think fuck it. I am not an advocate of American plastic surgery and view the act as another component to the hyper capitalism fear of death oppression and expectations women in this society fall victim to. So, I squatted and out came the egg that cracked open into chubby pigeon. I want to have a forum to display what I think beauty is. I wanted to have a place where I can share my political ideologies, videos, sexual explorations, pigeon adventures, and display my fetish for beautiful chubby women wearing ornate hats.
I want to read your comments, hear your opinions, and listen to your stories. As women in this society we are exploited, pitted against each other, oppressed, and are given a list of unattainable expectations by men who hold over us an ideal that I would never want to fuck, the same men who find self-confidence to be sexy but do so little to build it. So here it is, Chubby Pigeon, welcome to my nest.
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2 comments:
next time i see you, remind me to buy you a drink!
When all hope is gone for them, you are there Rebecca and if only for an instant of time they know someone cares about them.
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