bathtubgirl's journal

Thursday, March 07, 2002

Hola, senoritas y senors.

I am home from another day of healing the operadores. I know its fun to read about the angst ridden BTG, but I really had a good day. Well except, of course, my mother left word on the answering machine. She was crying. Evidently she had a blood clot which has left her helpless and she was being rushed to the U of M Emergency. She does this now and then. There was a period of six months that I had to wheel her around in a wheelchair, even though to me she was in perfect physical health. Other times she has claimed she has cancer or is having a heart attack. I think she must be really lonely. I want to help her but she is beyond help. I've had my share of tears over this, as its tough to see a parent go through severe depressions and their extreme excitations.

Ok back to my day at work. I was offered a decent office by the trilingual production manager, Annabelle. My space isn't ideal for doing massage in, but its fine for my personal office space. A place for me to hire students and pick up messages and such.

My workplace, American Apparel is one of the fastest growing garment companies out there. They are so steadfast that they seem to be employing half of downtown LA. As of now, I am on the only massage therapist. I have completley fallen in love with the operadores, (the men and women on the sewing machines) and their faces light up when I walk by. They see me as their connection to refresh. It is a time for those receiving the massage to make eye contact with fellow employees. The inspectors walk by and converse, etc... Today I gave a lesson to a Guatemalan couple (husband and wife) on how to help each other after work. I showed them all the acupressure points for the hands and arms. I joke with them a lot in broken English. I won't say broken Spanish because I am not quite there. I try though.

Image submission by snOw's Mamma

Here is a note from someone else who wants to light up people's faces. Unfortunately, he is filled (and rightly so) with the sorrow of the overman. Writers, artists, healers, thinkers, etc... soak up the vibes of the common man. So, with all that aside, here is Sickweed.


SICKWEED RETURNS

Sad Child

The last few weeks have been fucking terrible on my end of the cesspool and I'm feeling that any bits of creativity I had have been taken out into the woods, lashed to a tree and left for dead. The "Return of Spreadneedle" show went okay, but I'm still feeling unsatisfied. We have a bright future but I can't seem to find encouragement in that. Still at the bottom of the barrel. I've heard rumor that it's lonely at the top. Well it's lonely at the bottom too. I've been avoiding human contact like it's the plague. I just wanna get on the road and tour relentlessly so that I can still be lonely, but have a few dollars in my pocket to show for it.



I know that this is not the kind of drivel that your readers are looking for, this depressing bit of whimsey. I think, however, that most of the people wandering around in cyberspace, and even those who stumble up to Bathtubgirl's doorstep are lonely too.

I feel like reaching out to the lonely souls of the world. I feel like giving hugs to sad strangers. Remember that old Coca Cola slogan that said "I'd like to buy the world a Coke and keep it company"? Well, that's how I feel. I'd like to round up the miserable and down-trodden of the world, take them to the local pub and buy everyone a pint. Perhaps we can get together and drown our sorrows.

This is indeed the well trodden and perilous path toward alcoholism, but I've found that nothing helps alleviate the weight of regret like a beer or six. I want to be the drunkard's Mother Theresa. I'll bring solace and comfort to the social lepers of the world and heel them with encouraging words and cocktails.


I've been through this sort of thing enough times, just like everyone else, to know that it won't last. Sooner or later I'll fall out of bed and I'll feel energetic and optimistic for the future. But for now I wish to wallow. I can only hope that other lonely people will see this and realize that they're not alone. Talk to me.

Email Sickweed.


I PROMISE TOMORROW'S ENTRY WILL BE HAPPY.

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