Evil Twins

Everyone has a doppelganger; or so "they" say. I am in accordance with those who believe. But I am a rarity, for I have seen my doppelganger. If you are unfamiliar with this term, a doppelganger is someone who is your identical look alike. It is important to note that the word origin can be traced to Germany; where there is an addition to the definition. In its native language a doppelganger represents that of an evil twin; seeing your own could even be interpreted as an omen of death.

I found mine; but she hasn't found me. The irony is that we live 50 miles from each other; but in completely different worlds. My doppelganger leads me to believe that there is truth rooted in the idea of an evil representation of self. She currently resides in our federal prison. I am not aware of her actions that she participated in to land in that sort of hell; I just know that she is there. I saw here picture; 3 years ago. She was part of a female chain gang that was assigned to work at a local cemetery. Prisoners were to bury bodies of those who did not have enough money for a proper funeral. The picture shows my double, crying, wearing the cartoonish black and white uniform that is typical of a prisoner. Though I don't know what she looks like when she is not crying, she is a dead ringer for me when she is. That was not an intentional pun.

I like that my doppelganger is contained. Well, I guess I like to believe that she is. It has been three years since I saw her picture, my picture. Her sentence could be over. She could have escaped. Now that is a worrisome situation. I do not know why I felt compelled to write about doppelgangers, I guess I felt as if I should get the word out. If you see someone who looks like you, don't chase after them, they could be your doppelganger. They could be your evil twin; or worse, you could be theirs.

Cultural Defiance

I have been thinking for a long time about tattoos and their meaning to me and to my life. I think of symbols and body modification and representing myself. I want a piece, I have wanted a piece since I began to get reacquainted with myself. I remember the overwhelming desire to stand for something; to have something stand to me as a reminder everyday of who I was and where I have come from. I remember this desire when I left Renfrew. I know this desire now. I do not believe I need to present an argument, after all this is my body. I respect others ideals on how my body should look, but if I listen to those ideals, how is that different than what I did to end up at Renfrew? How could something so beautiful take away from my beauty as an individual? I believe only in enhancement.

I find it greatly ironic the levels of cultural acceptance in body modification. I live in a city where it is not uncommon to change one's physical appearance; curves, silhouette, facial attributes. Not only is it uncommon it is revered. Yet, if I want to decorate my body because I am proud of my body and what is mine naturally, and I am looking to enhance my curves by lines of fluidity as opposed to saline pouches, I am being defiant. Well, then I praise my defiance, and those that know me will snicker in my defiant streak. I stand for things, but mainly I stand for myself.

I met with the artist that I am going to have the work done by last night. I walked away feeling not defiant at all. I felt as though this is the next logical path for me and my body. It is the only thing that made sense. I am exhilarated and I am scared, but I am ready.

Sick vs. Healthy

I recently read a question in one of those silly "would you rather..." books.

Would you rather look healthy and be sick or look sick and be healthy?

Now this question was obvious to me. Of course I would rather be healthy. I found it curious though that I have received answers favoring both sides. I understand the desire to fit a certain aesthetic. I get it, but at the expense of your life? Maybe some of them took the question as the flu, would you rather have the flu but look healthy or look like you have the flu and be healthy? Even then I have a hard time excusing the desire to look better than to feel better. The other option that I have thought about comes from the possibility that some of these people have never been really sick.

I have been in and out of the hospital since I was a kid. If it wasn't my abnormally high cholesterol, than it was my earth rattling wheezes. If it wasn't a horrible ear infection then it was a horribly high fever that wouldn't break. I know hospitals, I know ER's. Well the newest problem (by new I mean the past 10 years) happens to involve my sinuses, all of them. Apparently they are full, 100% full. I have had some pretty tough sinus headaches in my life but I cannot tell you the amount of pressure that my head now exudes. Not only do I feel like my head will explode but that I will surely detonate everything around me, as well. I should have a WARNING:EXPLOSIVE sticker adhered to me at all times.

I had a rough surgery this past November, it was my 4th surgery. There were a lot of complications and I am obviously still feeling the effects. I still have a stent in my left sinus. I also now have a hole in my left orbital wall (the bone under your eye) that wasn't there before. I have the scar from where the iv pumped 2 liters of fluid in me when I lost more than that in blood. Needless to say I have gone looking for another doctor. I thought I had found one, until today. I waited 2 hours for an appointment that all I needed was for him to hand me a piece of paper to hand to the receptionist to schedule my now 5th surgery. Umm, okay, I could be over reacting, I am generally a patient person. However, he continued to go over the CAT scans with me that he had already talked about the last appointment. He hadn't gone over the notes from the last surgery, as a matter of fact he hadn't even requested them from my previous doctor. For the first time I am scared of being in the hands of a doctor. I had thought there would be no better place to be. Yet, this is my brain and my eyes that we are talking about.

I feel alone in this experience. I am not one to complain though I recently had it pointed out to me that I am not as good at hiding my frustration and pain as I once was. So here I sit asking you the next time you play that damn Would you rather game... Think about the exception`to the rule. You just may never know where you end up.

To your health!

Did I just sell out?

So, I just created my myspace profile. I am not sure how I feel about it, yet. Thankfully, I don't need to make any major decisions about it immediately.

I want to be more connected right now, I crave a community that I don't have to constantly entertain. I have a hot/cold desire to get in touch with those that I spent my child and adolescent days with. I ache for the smells of the first morning of summer vacation: fresh cut grass, lilacs, and fruity pebbles. I miss the first days of high school when what was worn on the first day dictated your place in the popularity hierarchy; I have great style, but was never popular. I wonder what that means.

What I find most disconcerting about my creating a myspace profile is that while I will be electronically connecting to old friends, I will be missing real opportunities to live this life, my life. Can both actions be done? I am sure; but I am compulsive and obsessive, and above all I am a homebody. This combination does not bode well for me to do anything but become a myspace addict; an addict that will need more than a twelve step program to give up layout designs, groups, and high school alums, among other myspace staples.

Yet, after I have created my myspace page I am blogging; something I haven't done in a while. Maybe this myspace thing won't be so bad. After all, I get to see pictures of my beautiful sister, keep tabs on my fabulous roommate, and catch up with fellow goddard grads. I think there will be many surprises in store. And if not, nothing was lost.