Hey,

Fundamental Buddhism is a joke I've passed around for a while.  Fundamental Islam and Fundamental Christianity are those religions at their most intense and zealous.  Like "Fuck yeah, man!  Glory to Allah!" and all that other bullshit.  Buddhism goes the other direction.  Instead of all of your energies directed toward one supreme, selfish, all engrossing diety, it's towards God as He resides and you and in your fellow man.  There are a million churches and mosques because people fear...and seek others to feel safe in knowing that they believe the same thing.

"We're correct right?  We can't be wrong if you believe and I believe and all these people believe...right?"  one parishoner or mosque goer might say. 
"And if we're correct right, then there's gotta be a heaven, a God, a hell...right?"
"Then if we're right then 'They' have to be wrong". 

The normal muslim or christian might just ignore the differences and go about their day, but fundamentalists have a chip on their shoulder.  They can't just let these differences go.

"WHAT!?  Those fuckers over there are still worshipping their god when as everybody knows our God is the one true god."  A Fundamentalist might say.

Instead of just thinking, "Fuck'em, they're going to hell anyway."  They go the step further, and murder in the name of their gods. 

Now the Fundamentalist Buddhist, would never find fault outwordly because salvation does not lie in worldly things.
(X-tians, and jihadists should read their bibles closer instead of looking for what they want).  The war lies within, and not with others.  If Buddhism were taken to an extreme, the fundamentalist would have none of himself left, because his worldly possessions would no longer exist to him, and all his concern he's given to the problems of those around him.  His waking hours spent searching for urban Nirvana.  Completeness is his prison and he looks for ways to disperse his thoughts, his atoms, his separation from oneness.  So you'd have a focused yet, diverse person.  Here and everywhere. 
.......................................................................................................................................

Put in an extra shift last night at KMCPM.  They just needed someone, and asked me Tuesday morning at the tail end of what was supposd to be my last shift this week.  Funny but I wanted to work it.  Whole new batch of patients, new problems.  The longer I'm away from the place, the longer it takes for me to get back my level of concentration.  It's an oxymoron.  The place gives me stress, but feel more stressed out the longer I'm away. 

Now that I think of it, we've had a few new male nurses lately, mostly new grads.  Got this guy charge nurse from the PI.  Pretty easy going, good to work with, feel safe with the patients when he's on.  Rhey's been great to work with, it's great when there's someone else clowning around.  It was pretty slow last night so pulling pranks helped the night go by quicker.

There was a room at the end of the hall, the ghost room, that was empty after the patient left that night.  We put some pillows on a chair we put facing the door, put a sheet over, and pressed the call light.  When it's slow like last night we tell some ghost stories.  Usually stuff we heard before, but is new to new grads and new travelers that are on.  So the nurse's aide that was already frazzled by the ghost stories is surprised that the call light in the "empty" room had been pressed walks in...man she jumped! hehe. 
The story about the room is that the ghost of a doctor walks in there sometimes and checks up on the patient or whoever is in there.  Usually he's seen in a white labcoat.  hehehe classic. 

I had a freak moment myself last night.  I was in a room flushing an IV for a bed bound patient on a special air mattress bed, when I heard what sounded like literally "the pitter patter of little feet".  Like the sound of little kids shoes slapping on the tile floors.  We'd just gotten both floors entirely tiled from carpet floors.  It was wierd 'cause it wasn't rhythmic like a sheet of paper taped to the machines tapping due to some a/c draft.  It was like someone was taking a few steps one way then 5 steps the other way to avoid me bumping into them.  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.  I localized it to the foot of the bed, thinking it was the air pump for the bed.  I've seen these beds before and this noise was new to me.  I kept turning around checking the corner of wall I expected the small single eye of a 6yr old spying on me trying to keep from being seen.  I got out of there quickly and the sound disappeared once I stepped out. 

Getting paid tomorrow:)
Jess
 

Hey,

So haven't been much for Lent...Have always been against all it stood for.  If someone died tomorrow who would care about what they kept themselves from doing?  But, decided to save my paychecks and live off just the bare essentials again.  Might have 6000 by April.  Also got word of a used low-mi, barely used  Evo VIII for sale at the Mitsubishi lot per connections.  Maybe in April along with 1st months rent and 1st year's car insurance.  Kind of depressing having worked the last few years with nothing to my name, but things I never really wanted...comfort junk.  Have several jackets I never wear, a T-shirt collection I just like to look at, and tons of CDs, DVDs, electronic eqipment.  I could open a small Circuit City/ GAP outlet at the Swap Meet.  All the small things keep me from getting that big thing that's always been out of reach...self-respect. 

Work

Been trying to get myself fired from my part-time position, in the "Office Space" sense, because I'm too much of a coward to give my 2-weeks notice.  It's been months since I've picked my checks up so I've got about 4 of them I forgot about.  Our secretary told me about $1000 over the phone...  sweet.  For doing close to nothing.  It's hard staying home on your day off, a little paranoid about going out.  It's a strange paranoia over running into people you know.  It's funny, feeling more comfortable in your confined spaces than getting some fresh air. 

Once I answered the door because I were expecting someone during the day.  I was faced to face with Jehovah witnesses, two mothers along with their 2 daughters going door to door on a Monday.  I was still in my sweatpants and DejaVu T-shirt Ian's cousin gave me.  I always keep the blinds shut to get some sleep during the day, so the living room must've been as dark as a cave to them.  The TV was on to MTV with some show on it where people were running around half dressed. 

She tried talking to me like I were a reasonably normal person.  I could sense her nervousness...I was someone she preached against.  We MTV-watching-up-allnighters-who go about during the day in darkness as if disconnected from reality.  Sometimes...at others I'm just pretending no one's home. 

Finding my niche at work...the other night was fun and busy.  My cute but married friend who I remind of her dead brother, Rhey from UH, the resident mysoginist jock CNA with the heart of gold, the 1st year out of college RN, and me the closet idiot.  Nursing's one of those professions you will never know everything about and I stay up with ulcers thinking about it.  I like being able to count on others that can center you in the here and now.  Still worst at what I do best. 

Could pay off my CC in a month if continue the wallet diet.  No longer tempted by "things that used to tempt me".  At least I had a year of getting anything I wanted.  The most unsatisfying part of the video game is at the end, "the Denoument", when its pretty much over and your just going through the paces. 

Been working the heavy bag at the YMCA.  The last workout, I bent my wrists only 2x compared to like 13 the 1st time.  There is the sweet spot on it you have to find so you don't spin it when you got it swinging.  Last I timed myself, I lasted 4 rounds 3minutes each with 1 minute rest.  Each round you attempt to put in some good shots, but to not wear yourself out....endurance.  You can't make the bag swing all the time or you tire quicker.  It feels good getting some shots into something defenseless.  Still finding the easiest, but most protective padded gloves.  The shitty ones do nothing for your wrists.  You can really break them hitting it wrong.  Its a new love. 

True Love Waits,

Jess

5/25/04

Review:

I love how relatively unpopular and cheap their CDs are.  This would be "Modest Mouse", the Seattle Pop trio now overtaking the alt/Indie/mainstream scene by storm.  I've gone crazy over looking for B-style pop Brit rock the past few months.  Even going so far as, dare I say it, reading those damn post-up pages for who the little English boys and girls are now worshipping...5 years ago.  The latest that the underground has discovered...5 years ago would be "Modest Mouse".  A relatively unknown act 'til their recent single "Float On".  It's happy...emotion sung at an octave this guy is not used to, lyrics that don't match the video...its solid gold packaging!!!  One thing I love about them is that the guitar work is simple...it's 90's.  No rap metal effects, no rap influenced lyrics and flow, no rap...it is pure.  I went to get the latest CD at Goody's, but they were sold out and same thing with Towers.  So I bought all their other ones before it.  They've been around since '96.  At times, it's like Blind Melon, and others its Nirvana on a PCA (patient controlled analgesic).  I don't do them justice...there's a growing level of maturity in the work, like if Cobain had found God, and kept on writing.  Working on a short story.  A world of Dead Rock Stars if they didn't die.  Like a behind the music/day in the life idea.  Closure?

Talking Shit About the Sunset.

I get a number of gifts sometimes, from the PI, parent's friends, etc, that I know I will never touch in my lifetime.  E.g. would be a flashy necktie given to me by the mayor of Laoag City.  No crap. It had his business card attached like I'd have further need to contact him.  He may be a respected city servant, but that tie is just ugly.  The one to date I figured I should try is a fishing pole; graphite, nice spool action...I have no idea how to fish but it looks nice.

Had nothing to do Friday so went fishing...if it had to be called something.  There's a spot up by Laie that patients have told me they liked fishing at.  I asked them if they caught much fish there.  They usually said, "no."  My fisherman career should start somewhere.  Got some tubbies, at Tanioka's, and bought some limu ahi poke for lunch (again something I never knew I'd like so much 'til I started drinking).  Drove up there.  Strung the line like how I used to see my cousin do it.  Sat down and fell asleep.  Completely alone...thought I got the directions wrong and I looked like a fool fishing where no one ever does.  Then this old Japanese guy drives up off the road, gets out and grabs a white bucket from the truck bed and headed to where I was down by the water.  Set everything up, stuck his pole in the sand and lay back down for a nap without ever saying anything or trying to make eye contact.  When you're ten feet from someone in the middle of almost nowhere, you'd at least wonder what the other guys doing there.  Nothing...just took his nap.  And I just watched the surf roll in and people riding them on the other side of the coast.  At least the fishing pole and the cooler kind of looks like I had a reason for being there; poser that I may have looked.

Thought about the fish I might catch...Funny, but I didn't expect to do anything with the fish if I caught one.  That hadn't fit into my plans for this afternoon.  Just wanted to go fishing.  I didn't want to eat it.  A patient told me catfood worked.  Not a lot, just enough of the oil from it for the scent and then a lure.  Cat food in the sun for a few hours, isn't pleasant.  I just scraped some into a zip loc bag and threw the rest away.

At about 5pm I get a bite.  I play with it a bit, giving it slack then reeling it in, like on TV.  In this respect I'm a poser I admit.  Fish are quite strong, and it was at least 10 minutes before I felt I was getting anywhere.  The old man wakes up and sees me reel it in fighting to the end.  I cut the hook off and stick it in the ice chest ($5.00 at Longs).

"What did you catch?"  The old man asks.

"I don't know, but I think it's 3 or 4 lbs", I had trouble getting it in the ice, I had to bend it a bit.

"That's big!  I've never caught anything that big around here.  What kind of bait?"

"Catfood."...He smiled and recounted cheetos, baby akule, and other bait he's used over the years.  Mr. Miyake's retired from a long career as a carpenter.  His sons are on the mainland, and his daughter lives and visits him here sometimes.  The reason he acted like I wasn't there was because I looked like I wanted to be alone.  I smiled.  "Just tired", I told him..."I work nights".  We talked for about an hour, watching the bells on our fishing poles not ring.  His wife passed away 5 years ago.
They got married when she was 16 and he was 18, and she raised the kids while he went to work.  The elderly never talk of love romantically, more like a lack of regret for choosing that person or the inconcievability of their daily routine without your wife overdoing your eggs or their husband hogging the blanket.  He talked about her sweetly.  He may have been 87, but his mentation was intact...5 years ago...I was going to tell him, "Maybe you should listen to some 'Modest Mouse'".  I just listen, and he told me I was a good person for listening.  If he only knew how I am at the end of my rope.  I smiled and asked about his grand kids.  They don't come to see him as much.  His daughter had no children, but his sons' kids come to visit on Christmas.
Took a look at his dingy looking jeans, slippers and T-shirt.  Swarthy Okinawan skin.  By the look of his truck, he seemed to be letting himself go.  He said he used to come here to fish to get away from his wife and kids.  Now he doesn't have much else to do.  It's his passion.

I told him I lacked ambition, and wander aimlessly to amuse myself, and sometimes I work.  Older people wonder why I feel this way.  Money, single, allegedly semi-attractive, good job, what remains of my brains=smart, freedom.
"Everyone's getting married, or moving away", I told him, "but I don't feel like doing either one.  Still paying off debts then I'll figure things out after".  I told him, "I might just go to Kauai, bring over a fast car that doesn't belong there, get with a local girl, have some kids, get a house by the beach, grow old and go fishing, then when they've moved out go fishing again."
He chuckled, and his eyes lit up.  "If I was young still, and I had money, I'd go Vegas, go Alaska, go all over the place.  And see the wahine..." he just went on with his fantasy.  I've already played that stuff out in my head too much.  I'll either be disappointed or not enjoy it now if I tried.

The sun was going down so we got up and started packing up.  I decided to give him my fish on ice.  He thanked me and again said I was too nice.  Wouldn't know what do with it anyways.  We said goodbye and maybe we'd see the other here again.
Drove home, waning moon on the horizon, nice empty black night on a country road...

End Transmission...