Monthly Archives: June 2008

police cars and alarms

Yesterday wasn’t the best of days. Aside from falling in the morning, I was pulled over by the police for the first time too. I was trying to make a left turn by a traffic light. There was a police car about four cars behind the front one opposite me, but I thought nothing of it. I had a nagging feeling to go straight instead of making the left, for some reason, but I took it to be general paranoia and continued on my merry way. A car in front of me hesitated as though to let me go, but a silver Honda pulled around them in the driver’s impatience and nearly hit me as I began to turn. I completed it successfully, nobody was hurt and there was no accident.

I continued to drive down the road, but the police car was behind me with its lights off.

Continue reading

early blood

It’s 8:11 am and I have been awake for almost three hours. I slept over my boyfriend’s relatives’ house and he has work this morning. My internship (luckily) starts later on in the day.

I was clumsy, which isn’t that different from how I am – who I am – nobody could ever use the word ‘graceful’ as an adjective to describe me. I hopped out of my boyfriend’s car and walked confidently up the steps to my front door. I looked back and saw that a car was headed in the opposite direction, but still about to pass my boyfriend. I cringed because the streets by my house are very narrow and it always makes him nervous that someone is going to hit him. With this thought recent in my mind, I turned back around, raised my right foot and promptly caught the edge of my white flipflop on the stair. There was no merciless misperception of time – my senses spared me and I fell, catching myself with the back of my left arm and elbow. My boyfriend, who was concentrating on somehow finding an empty niche by the curb, forgot what he was doing as he saw me tripping and hit the brakes. A bird that sat peacefully on the telephone line above his car flew away, startled by the quick movement.

He called out of the window, “Are you alright?!”

As usual (this has happened many times before), I jolted up, not bothering to check for injuries and waved him off with my hand. I could feel my face warming up with impending embarrassment, but turned the key into the lock and stepped into my home.

It was only when I finally flopped myself down onto this bed to type to you that I did a brief damage assessment, considering that my stairs are made out of hard concrete with sharp edges. My arm is cut up in several places, but it is only bleeding a little. This is nothing and not even comparable to the Bloody Knees incident of 1994 that rendered me lasting scars. My father endured a lecture from my mother for over an hour on that one – she entrusted with my care while she went grocery shopping. It’s also nowhere near distressing, if at all similar to the Tangled Hair fiasco of 1993 that he was also responsible for creating or the Torn Tongue from Ice conflict that occurred in the same year – also his doing. Haha, enough tattling on my dad, it’s time for sleep. My arm doesn’t even hurt anymore.

I fixed ‘oncology’ in my ‘monster within‘ post. I accidentally wrote ‘ontology’ – that’s how you know I’m a philosophy major. Oops.

ignored

It’s 4:28 a.m. and I am leaning against the husband pillow, skullcandy buds shoved haphazardly in my ear, listening to Long Story Short. I am thinking that I was always able

to see him through / like a favored novel, / but still a quick read. / This was a wasabi night, / a friendship dinner / with her/ and not to be taken / personally / by him. / Our inches / seemed miles apart, / so he reached across / the gap, / seeking to close the ‘space’ / between us. / It had been a year / without his heartbeat / matching mine / too closely. / His sudden / expectations / for constant contact / had me anxious / in its unfamiliarity. / Too much resistance / left him insecure. / Rejection was written / legibly / on his face / in ink she / could even see. / Still, / I challenged / when he pounced / and laughed / when he tackled. / I had no reply to his, / “You’re ignoring me” / though we were / in the same room. / Shocked / and unsure, / I could only say, / “Goodbye” / to his retreating / slumped form. / I foresaw / his guilt / and pardoned him / before any request / for forgiveness / was made, / but forgot / comforting words / when he spoke / regret across weak / wireless signals. / I watched / his impatience/ drive away. / I haven’t / felt (sorry) / since last June. / The lesson / was learned / too well / during our time / apart. / He must learn – / I am only / beginning / to recover. / I want to / believe in / unconditional love, / but his teaching / taught me / better.

’round the Earth in 10 visits

more visitor stats – I have been receiving a lot of international visits lately, which is welcome, but surprising. Aside from the strange referral from a porn site (what?!?!?! how?! WHY?!), and someone finding me through a strange reference to painting toenails black and boyfriends, I decided to see where people were visiting from and make a brief post about it in gratitude.

The last ten visitors were from the United States, India, the UK, Germany, the United Arab Emirates, Portugal, Australia, Japan, Malaysia, and Greece. Pretty cool, right? I thought so.

search engine

people find my site in the funniest ways – here are the phrases caught by WordPress from viewers:

gre 2
“amy gerstler” “siren” 2
sneezed 2
why love hurts? 2
clit ring 1
chispeak 1
flirting with my boyfriends recruiter 1
lg venus manufacture defect 1
amy gerstler siren 1
coital technique 1
darth thriller 1
siren by amy gerstler 1
i love wikihow 1
robert pattinson 1
amy gerstler “siren” 1
counselling irritated lately 1
iam looking for aboy hwo still at school 1
gres 1
brita pitcher 1
siren amy gerstler 1
siren poem amy gerstler 1
“clinical psychology” grad school 1
chinese bowls with koi 1
until my birthday countdown 1
taylor swift half asain (spelling error left intact) 1

SuperDad – to the rescue!

A beetle just frightened me by slamming itself against this screen. Dear. God. I am not normally frightened by such inconsequential things – spiders are the only insect that truly has a surefire, no nonsense way of terrifying me, but it was huge and silver. It was like a shiny, three-dimensional half dollar (okay, okay, more like a quarter) with no monetary value that moved around on legs – LEGS!

I turned on the light and it flew to the opposite wall and fell behind a large framed poster. It crawled and resurfaced. I could feel my face taking on a sickly, pale shade. It made angry buzzing noises, twitching antennae moving from side to side. I vaguely wondered if it wanted to make peace with me, if it was trying to establish some sort of interspecies greeting.

No such luck. It clicked threateningly and I picked up the righty of my favorite pair of brown sneakers. I misinterpreted its clicks after all – it committed suicide and fell two feet, landing with an audible cracking sound. I pushed the television stand aside, sneaker at the ready in case it was merely a feint move meant to lure me closer.

It fell into a hidden dust bunny. A large one. I wondered if it cushioned its fall. No sign of life. A few terse seconds passed by and I slammed the sneaker down on it (to put it out of its misery, of course). My father heard the commotion from two rooms away and sleepily lumbered over. His eyes were bloodshot from being roused out of sleep and he subconsciously rubbed his hand over the neat vertical scar running along his lower back from surgery last summer.

“There was a beetle,” I explained lamely.

“Let me guess – it scared you?” he quipped, trying to keep his expression stoic.

I could read the amusement in his eyes as I responded, “It attacked my laptop.”

He smiled now and bent down with a piece of paper towel at the ready, scooping it along with the dust. He reminded me of a young boy, opening the napkin and staring at the small, still body. I tried to imagine my father in his childhood and could almost see him poking at the beetle corpse with an inquisitive fingertip. I mused over this image, picturing him, even now, to resist jabbing at it. I raised an eyebrow at him and he refolded the napkin, giving it a light squeeze in the ball of his fist. A muffled, but still definite crunch noise followed. I felt a twinge of pity for the poor thing, but still imagined my dad as a little boy, reopening the napkin for a quick peek.

“Thanks, Dad,” I cringed, giving him a sheepish smirk. I’m 21, but sometimes it’s really good to be home.

an intern and conehead dog

My cousin’s dog is a pug/boston terrier mix. In otherwords, to put it politely, she’s insane and has been ever since she was old enough to start romping around. The amount of energy that she constantly exhibits – and I do mean constantly – is tiring to watch, but the poor girl has been off in a lethargic slump ever since she was spayed about two weeks ago. I am unsure whether it was the shock from surgery or having a huge cone around her neck, but she was constantly moving, constantly annoying, yet her loveable self once she was finally liberated from it. In fact, I tried to take pictures of her in a sequence, but you can see for yourself how that worked out. And yes, she was in an obedient ‘Sit!’ position for them.

I am running on two hours of sleep, so the following may be abbreviated due to being overtired. However, do not mistake lack of detail for lack of enthusiasm – This is quite possibly one of the best gigs I’ve had yet in my brief career as an employed adult, even if it is an internship-

I haven’t posted lately because my internship has kept me busy. I’m in charge of recruiting and community outreach for foster care. I’m also getting exposed to how foster care actually works, from the referrals all the way to placement and everything that goes along with it – introductions, assimilation, adjustments and assessments, treatments – the works. It was on my third day there, but I love it so far – I even have my own desk and company computer. They’re pretty decent for a non-profit because they reimburse me a little less than 50 cents per mile that I drive while cruising around town to distribute their materials and talk to people. I’ve managed to get their brochures and flyers in with a handful of business entrances already.

I was able to observe potential foster parent orientations today, which was exciting. Apparently, they had a really good turn out (about 6 interested individuals/couples), so I am lucky to have witnessed such success within my first week. I’m scheduled to tag along for a foster child interview soon and a home visit as well – pretty amped about it, to tell you the truth, although I know it’s not roses and rainbows in this line of work. A lot of the paperwork reminds me of my nursing home job and RA duties, so it’s not a far stretch from what I’m used to – it’s just incorporating a lot of my previous non-profit recruitment skills. Plus, they already bought me lunch once. Insanity. Crazier and more awesome than my cousin’s dog. My boss e-mailed me from two rooms away. She jokingly wrote, “Tell your school that you’re not going back in August. You’re going to be working for us full-time!” It made me feel pretty good. I’ll keep you updated.

Did I mention the biggest perk of all? Casual dress.

Things I saw that were a bit off today -

1. An accident and cars getting in the way of the police/ambulances while driving by it.

2. A car full of young males cat-calling to my co-workers and me, then screaming obscenities and flipping us off when we ignored them.

3. Construction taking place in my building, somehow making the entire place smell like burnt food or a fire waiting to happen.

4. A fire truck pulled to the side of the road and a bunch of firefighters eating hot dogs at a small picnic table by a vendor, considerably slowing down traffic.

Admittedly, the last one was pretty funny. They were probably back from a call (some were still in gear) and starving. I admire firefighters – I have a few friends who are volunteer ones – and hey, if they were hungry, I wouldn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes while they relaxed. Honestly.

Things that made me happy

1. Blasting Metallica’s Enter Sandman and Black Sabbath’s Iron Man at full volume in my car and scaring my boyfriend (He doesn’t realize the full extent of my semi-hidden metal craze).

paint it black

i am listening to heavy metal.

my toenails are painted black.

rock on.

my boyfriend arrived a day earlier than i thought.

my dad asked how my visit with him went (he even woke up to make sure I found parking and watched me walk inside the house safely), and for that, he is the best father in the world.

I bought him the first season of Cheers for tomorrow.

Happy Father’s Day, papas around the globe.

two things

happen when it’s my turn to wash the dishes (yeah, we’re still living in the pre-dishwasher age in my house):

1. I think about bringing out the paper plates and disposable utensils…

2. I excuse my dislike for dishwasher-hands as concern for the environment and look at the silverware and tableware, hoping to conserve, but knowing that offering my family only a fork and a single bowl will never fly for the upcoming meal.

And soup? Simple – drink down that juice and look, there’s a perfectly good cup. Just kidding. Almost. College has educated me, but it’s helped me overstepped etiquette I grew up with and streamline myself toward practicality.

access

I was able to access my identity theft protection account (though it tried to keep me out) and my old livejournal that dates back to early 2004. wow. a lot changed in four years.

I wrote a new poem there.

It has been three years,
but it seems like a moment.

I have not written.
I am not sorry.

I left no explanation.
You have no regrets.

My journal is a grave
with an eroded headstone

and the single mourner
never tends to the weeds,

but that doesn’t mean
the soul beyond

dirt-kissed bones
ever forgets.