Ambition & Possessions

There’s a news story floating around of a woman who had been sitting on her boyfriend’s toilet for the past two years. She had sat in the same position for so long that her body grew around and became attached to the toilet seat and her legs had atrophied to the point that she will probably need to be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

Excuse me, while my gag reflex subsides.

She and her boyfriend obviously have seriously problems. One part of the article gave me a particularly weird feeling--the kind of weird and confused feeling one gets when a person walks in on his or her father on top of mom in the middle of the night.

Apparently, almost ritualistically, the boyfriend, while he was readying himself for work, would ask her to come out of the bathroom. And she would reply by saying, “Maybe tomorrow.”

One sec while the wave of nausea subsides.

Ok. So the only reason I mention this story on my blog, given its high standards of journalism, is to say, what if I’m metaphorically that girl? I sit at my job all day, getting used to a steady paycheck, while a voice is asking me to come out of the bathroom to which I reply, “Maybe tomorrow.”

Also, maybe slightly literally as well. I recently threw away most of my possessions. It felt good. Many of the things I threw away had personal significance to me. It was hard but I figured that by throwing those things away it might free me up creatively and I might begin anew with a tabula rasa. Those things might have influenced who I am but they don’t define me. The only things of personal significance that I did not throw away were journals, photos, letters, and cards.

With my pared down possessions, I considered living out of my bathroom and using the rest of my studio apartment as a work studio. I’d build a letter press in one corner, get a drafting table, and turn one of my closets into a writing room.

As a test, I tried sleeping in my bathtub for a few nights. I folded my mattress topper in half and placed it in the tub. It was ok the first night. I felt safe. The most comfortable position was fetal. With water so close, it almost felt womb-like.

Then, as I told my neighbors about my experiment, I instantly realized how stupid of an idea it was to live out of your bathroom. Sometimes you just have to hear your own ideas released from your head to realize how asinine they are.

I've been thinking about ambition a lot lately. It's a confluence of factors - elections, the end of The Wire, Spitzer's scandal. Abraham Lincoln and Langston Hughes' poem about the raisin in the sun

What type of person seeks the presidency? Also, I also recently read something about Spitzer and a psychoanalytical take on how people in power, once they achieve a level of success and power, tend to take more risks and become more careless as a way to get that rush of achievement.

Last night, J & I listened to a chef speak for two hours about his career, his obstacles, and what he still needs to work on. He recently became a father and yesterday he had a good day at a management training session so I think he wanted to air it out and sober up a bit before heading home. He seemed ambitious but in a good way. In the type of way, my parents were when they came to the states. Maybe with a bit of innocence and naivete and still holding on to their principles.