Wow, this place gets dusty and dirty when it isn’t used regularly. Looks one step below a crack house.
Okay! So much has been going on I don’t really know where to start, but let’s start with Alice because Alice is so much fun!
The show was AMAZING! The crowd was so much better than in D.C. and the guys responded by playing a few extra songs, which certainly didn’t break my heart. Mike Inez posted on the Alice blog that it was one of the best crowds they had ever played for and we had been short-listed if they decided to add more American dates after they finished up in Europe. Oh yeah! He said he never knew West Virginians were so crazy! Ha!
In other concert news, I went to see Black Stone Cherry this past Friday and they rocked the house at the V Club in Huntington along with Split Nixon and Stitch Rivet. I actually liked Split Nixon better than Stitch Rivet. Unlike Alice, they did throw us a bone and played one of their new songs from their forthcoming album. It was great seeing them again. It was hotter than hell in that club though. I was sweating like a pig but what a show!
I have been accepted to graduate school. Okay, my heart seized up a little there. And I’m contemplating a job change to go along with it. I got all of my financial aid squared away, my plane ticket to Seattle, and I’m just so freakin’ psyched! Especially since I’ll be staying on the Olympic Peninsula and it is about 20 degrees (or more) cooler there! No, I’m not moving. It is a low-residency program so I’ll be going to Washington every 6 months. I know, poor me to have to visit the Northwest that often.
I’m getting my Masters in … Creative Writing. I know, shocking! And, I’m doing my “thesis” on Jerry Cantrell’s lyrics. I KNOW! Is that not cool!?! This is why I chose the Port Townsend residency instead of Vermont. Thrilled to be going to the land of the grunge!
Part of the Master’s Program includes a minimum of 15 hours of teaching. I’m currently looking into several programs around the area, but my preference is Southern West Virginia. I have also contemplated getting my substitute teaching certificate for primary and secondary schools. Needless to say, I’ve been hopping around like a little bunny rabbit.
An old friend of mine who is an educator told me there wasn’t much money in the education field. I told him, “Sweetheart, if I wanted to make the big bucks, I would be studying quantum physics.” I’m a simple person, not very materialistic. I just want to be able to support me and Nate and have a bit of money left over for travel and to put back for emergencies. I do that now… as a waitress, and even in WV, professors make more than waitresses.
If it’s one thing I’ve learned being a waitress, you cannot allow money (tips) or lack thereof to influence how you feel about yourself. I’ve been poor, I’ve been prosperous, but I’d rather be happy and prosperous. Besides, I’ll still be writing. I may hit it big, I may not. What is most important is, I’m doing what I’ve ALWAYS WANTED TO DO, and I’m over the moon.
Nothing happening in the relationship department. Nada. Oh well.
I’m still seeing my counselor. It helps, a whole lot.
Nate’s voice is changing and he has informed me he is sprouting “fur” in places I would rather not know about. He tried to convince me he had hair on his upper lip. He does, when I squint and use a magnifying glass. He’s taller than I am by an inch and a half and he loves it.
He failed the 8th grade – or as he said, “Epic fail.” I warned him, his teachers warned him, and he didn’t listen. We both took it well. I told him I was disappointed that he didn’t apply himself but I was also not too upset in letting him marinate another year. Nate is the kind of kid who could use it. I would rather he be 19 when he starts college. Plus, he learned I wasn’t going to browbeat him nor take responsibility for something he is old enough to take responsibility for himself.
Better he learn now than later that there are consequences for his own actions and that Mom is not bailing him out and chasing him around like he is five to turn his homework in. He’s almost 14. Those days are over.
He hasn’t spoken to his father for over a year and it doesn’t appear as though that will change anytime soon. I don’t care if it ever changes. Jeff is poison.
Well, that’s all I have. I need to get Nate up and we need to get to grass mowing before the storms start hitting later this afternoon. But first, I have to empty the refrigerator to feed him. Goddess, that young man can EAT! Plus, I’ve taken him off of his medicine for the summer, at least temporarily so he will eat more since he is growing soooo fast! I also need to write, clean litterboxes, clean up the house, compose letters to colleges around the area, etc. etc.
Ya’ll take care!
Are when Nate and I see our respective counselors. I like both of our counselors. They’ve given me a lot of insight and hope into our situation but that doesn’t mean its fun getting there. It never is.
Nate is very open to counseling but the things they have coaxed out of him so far are disheartening. Disheartening for a parent who cannot see into the mind of their 12 year old and find all of the feelings they have stuffed down inside of it and the realization that we have so far to go.
Having been through counseling before, and being in counseling now, I know how much it hurts to dig shit up, to face it, and to deal with it appropriately. My heart aches for my son.
Nate and I both learned, over a period of time, not to express any emotion in front of Jeff. To do so, opened us both up to ridicule. Nate maintains that facade and he maintains that facade emotionally as well. He doesn’t talk about his father but I know he’s still there, in the back of his mind.
While Nate can maintain that facade while he is awake, he cannot when he sleeps. Although his father’s name was not mentioned, I could tell the counseling started roiling the bottom of Nate’s pond. It wasn’t unusual for Nate to talk in his sleep and wet the bed after an episode with his father.
Thursday night, after he went to bed, right about the time he hit REM, I could hear him start chattering. I’ve heard him say “no” and “quit” and “stop” but for the most part, its mumbling. I had a very hard time getting to sleep myself, as my mind just refuses to shut up, hence the doctor’s appointment on the 16th. Somewhere around 3 a.m. I was jolted awake by Nate yelling and as the fog in my mind cleared, I heard him mumbling again.
A short time later, Chico woke me with his whine/bark asking to be let into my bed. As I reached over the side of my bed, I heard Nate say, “Don’t pick him up, ” from the bathroom across from my bedroom. I did anyway and Nate asked where some clean underwear were and I heard him rummaging around in the dark, then he entered my room, I thought to retrieve Chico, but he laid down at the foot of my bed and went to sleep.
I had a dream later that morning about Jeff calling. I heard his ringtone and actually answered the phone. The conversation was benign, almost surreal. I don’t remember much of it, but remembered thinking in the dream that he didn’t ask about Nate. Not surprising, the interpretation for talking on a phone in a dream is that you need to confront issues you are trying to avoid, and to speak to someone you know, means that you need to confront that person.
I figured that out as soon as I woke up. Didn’t really need an interpretation.
I talked to my counselor about the other events in my life, separate from Jeff, that I’ve had to deal with, especially in the last two and a half years, starting with Kevin’s suicide in November of 2006, AZ’s engagement in December and, of course, the housefire. She asked, “How did you put one foot in front of the other?”
I answered, “Nate… and… that’s just how I am.” At least, that’s what I choked out between sobs.
She gave me, ha ha, writing assignments to be completed as we move through the process. She said, of course, that blogging and journaling is an excellent way to express my feelings. I had read on one of the news services that therapists were assigning patients to start blogs. Oh boy, I can’t wait! (Laugh, that was supposed to be funny.)
That reminds me of David Bowie (Jareth) from the movie, Labyrinth. If you haven’t seen it, he would say something mean around the little trolls and then he would say, “Well, laugh.” Then they would all laugh with him.
Nate’s grades, really not a laughing matter. He’ll either fail the 7th grade, or he may have to attend summer school. I’m prepared for either. His counselor has some theories about his poor school performance and what we can do about that. When I picked him up from school on Thursday, they were in the middle of their awards assembly.
When he came out I lightly asked him if he had gotten an award for the most days spent in lunch detention. He smiled and then I said I was sorry and he said, “No, that was actually pretty funny, M.” He said a little later, “I would like to get an award.” We talked about goals and that this year is over and there isn’t anything he can do about it now, so, he needs to look towards next year and about what he can do to achieve his goal of getting an award, for something, and not the most days spent in lunch detention.
I mentioned, as I have before, The Golden Horseshoe Test, which is given each year to WV 8th grade students to test their knowledge of WV History and I told him that he would be reading “Rocket Boys/October Sky” in conjunction with WV Studies. I told him I make sure we made it down to the October Sky Festival and help him study for the test.
Then I said, let’s just get through the next couple of days…
The weather is also no laughing matter. Its 58 degrees outside and I have my furnace on. ITS JUNE 6TH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!! Oh, its Troy’s birthday. Happy Birthday Troy!!! Its also Chris Robertson’s birthday (from Black Stone Cherry). Happy Birthday Chris!!!
I’m not working today, but I’m still working. I’m catering a tea party for 10 five year olds and their mothers. Yes, I know, its five year olds, ten of them, and their mothers, but I need the money and its only three hours… I look to the fact that I found a BEAUTIFUL dress at a local department store that fits not only waist but my bosoms as well. This, this an anamoly and I have to capitalize on that.
So is my life today.
That’s what I stared at for a good part of my day. Hot, young studs in yellow shirts and black shorts sticking their crotches in my face THE ENTIRE DAY. This is what happens when you are up against the barricade and the hot, young studs that are running security have to stand up in front of you and haul crowd surfers out overtop of you.
Were it not for the fact I couldn’t see the concerts at all and that there should DEFINITELY be a weight limit for crowd surfing (OUCH, OKAY!), I would have been content with hot crotch in my face all day. I think the worst of the crowd surfing was during Flyleaf. I don’t think I saw more than 2 minutes of their set. And, not that I mean to discriminate, but dude, if you’re in a wheelchair, you AND your wheelchair should NOT BE CROWD SURFING!!! OUCH!
I saw a lot of drunk people, I saw one lady who was unconscious and bleeding (I don’t think the Korn moshpit agreed with her), and I saw several people carted off semi-conscious by the Ranger Security. Moshpits are only for the very young and agile, or the very drunk and ginormous. If you are anything other than young and agile or very drunk and ginormous, chances are you will end up unconscious and bleeding.
Luckily, the crowd was a bit more sedate for Alice and I got a couple of pictures of Jerry and William. Mmmmmm… Jerry and William. Jerry had sound problems with one of his guitars and actually finished the first song, Sludge Factory, sans guitar. It seemed like they were onstage for five minutes but managed to squeeze in Man in the Box from “Facelift,” Them Bones, Dam That River, Junkhead, Rooster, Angry Chair, and Would from “Dirt,” and Sludge Factory and Again from their eponymous CD.
I should have eaten a bit more before I went, but all I had was a package of powered donuts and a 16 oz. cup of coffee. I got there at 12:30, used the bathroom, went and got a spot at the barricade and didn’t move until 9:15. I then grabbed a bratwurst, got a t-shirt, and got the hell out of there. I like Slipknot, but not enough to get more bruises and have to fight the other 22,000 people there getting out of the parking lot. I stopped at the first rest area to use the bathroom. No way in hell I was braving the ladies bathroom after a day of drinking, debauchery, and carnival food. YIKES!
Black Stone Cherry was a little disappointing. Their sound had to be the worst of the day. Actually, I didn’t think Alice’s sound was that great. Jerry’s guitar was turned up too loud and William’s mike was too soft, which really sucks because William has an amazing voice and it was a strain to hear it sometimes. Plus, BSC only got to play six songs. Lonely Train, Rain Wizard, and Maybe Someday from the first CD and Blind Man, Soul Creek, and Please Come In from the second.
All in all, it was worth the trip, especially to see Alice. Having Jerry in my sights for 45 minutes, yep, that made it totally worth it.
Today has been one of the most angst filled days of my life. If have trouble finishing my food, you know, something is wrong. I got a voice mail on Monday or Tuesday wanting to know about his visitation with Nate. I didn’t answer. I went over and over in my mind what I was going to say, and somewhere along those lines, my thoughts changed from what I was going to say to him to what I was going to write in the Court papers.
I started it out longhand, sitting at the Chef’s Table at the restaurant between shifts. I thought a lot about what went into that paper. Then I sat down and wrote it out like it should have been written. Then I went and picked up the 12 additional pieces of paper I needed, and I filled those out.
I was nervous and upset and scared. I felt like I had a basketball in my throat and iron-tipped butterflies in my stomach. But, I did it anyway.
I know what he’ll say in his response and some of it may be partially true and some of it will be outright lies and I really don’t care. I’ve been through enough that whatever happens, I’ll survive that too.
What I’m totally amazed by is what I can accomplish when I’m not having to deal with him. I, for the most part, have my house cleaned, at least, the important parts. That’s even after I spent MY DAY OFF at Nate’s school and MY OTHER DAY OFF at my parents’ place, went to Nate’s band concert, made three trips to the Courthouse, a trip to the YMCA, called my counselor, called Nate’s doctor’s office twice, wrote the petition, filled out 12 pages of information, made copies, took care of my cats, the dog, made sure Nate took a shower, had his homework finished, went to, took T-Bird to the unemployment office and her doctor’s office, I blogged, went to the grocery store, twice, actually made dinner, twice, and I slept.
All that, even after I worked 99.97 hours on my feet in the past two weeks.
And in four hours and 51 minutes (or around about then), I’m leaving for Rock on the Range. I’ll not get to go to both days, but by golly, I’m going to see Black Stone Cherry and I’m going to see Alice in Chains!!!!
That doesn’t mean I’m not being hyper-vigilant and that I’m not nervous as hell, but, it will be really nice just to get away for at least one day.
So, Assistant Manager Intern did leave, as in, walked out yesterday afternoon. There were many reasons for his departure. I had a passionate, tearful discussion with GM about it, among other things. She stated that he wasn’t doing his job.
I told her that perhaps he wasn’t fulfilling his duties on a paperwork/administrative level, but he certainly was fulfilling them on the floor and that, after a rather rough start in which we all wanted to string him up by his gonads, 3-4 weeks ago we had all turned a corner with him. She stated he had joined the “cliques.” I told her that there was only one clique on dayshift and that was the entire staff of dayshift.
She also took it personal when I stated that we depended on him. She took that as that we don’t depend on her. We depend on whoever comes upstairs to help and we depend on her for different things. I told her it wasn’t personal nor a reflection of what she does or doesn’t do for us. She said I was taking it personal that AMI left and I said, yeah, because I liked him, not because I didn’t think she’s supportive of us.
It was a clusterfuck. If you’ve read my blog then you know I can be just downright damned direct and I’m not afraid to tell someone what I think or how I feel. My emotions were high, my blood was hot, and I was focused. Writing that sentence actually scared me.
When I get like that, its almost like I step outside myself and all the thoughts and feelings that have been swirling around align and concentrate, kind of like the laser from the Death Star, into a beam of articulate tell it like it is, take no prisoners, put my foot down brilliance, or bullshit. Guess that would depend on what side of the laser beam you’re standing.
I’m not angry at anyone. I just don’t like how it ended. My GM may have issues, but one of mine is abandonment, so, nah. Jace even said, “Wow, I didn’t think you would take this so personal.” Well, we had to fire a server about a week ago. I didn’t feel one way or another about it. She was either late or called in or just didn’t show up. I had no investment with her whatsoever.
With AMI, we were all looking forward to Spring so we, dayshift servers collectively, could go hiking and show him some of the more rural parts of WV. We started learning more about him, coaxing the goofy grinning, head swiveling side out of him. GM missed all of that because he was doing such a good job on the floor that she didn’t need to be there. Which, I believe, is the whole point of having an Assistant Manager or Restaurant Manager.
The hell if I know, I just work there.
Restaurant Manager seems to be attempting to fly under the radar. He’s unfamiliar with our POS system, but a quick study, not very good on the computers, but he’s trying, and I told him today that I used to do payroll, so if he has any issues to let me know. It seemed his shoulders lifted a little and he laughed and said, “Everyone is better on these computers than I am!” He seems to be an okay guy. I wonder when he’s going to start asserting himself.
Then again, I’ve heard when you do your job, he pretty much leaves you alone, so I should pretty much fly under his radar.
In other news, I went an estate sale on Sunday and bought $225.00 worth of vintage jewelry that I’m estimating is worth 3-6 times that much, depending on the piece. I’ll post some pictures when I get the chance since I need to catalog it anyway. One piece in particular I believe is worth about $225.00, but, it will stay in my private collection.
I’ve been very tired, sore, achy and stiff since Valentine’s Day. Busy as hell double shifts just don’t agree with me!
Oh yeah, and I’m training a new dude on dayshift. He really got on my nerves yesterday because he’s much larger than I am and kept stepping on my heels. I was telling Nate about it and he said, “Mamma, you just need to put your foot down.”
I said, “I would have, but I was afraid he was going to step on it.” Nate just hee-hawed and laughed. I think he’ll be a good fit. He’s flaming gay, a bit of a drama queen, talks far too fucking much but he knows his serving shit. I just need him to tone down the talk and I think he’ll be fine. He really is very sweet and enthusiastic but I’m going to have to tell him tomorrow that he needs to tone down the talk because he’s wearing me out.
I hope it works better than when we tell our new line cook to shut up. He just keeps talking and fucks our food up. He swears he’s gay but does nothing but talk about girls. We all get very irritated with him. Nice guy, just won’t shut the fuck up.
Things with Jace are meh. Eh.
I’ve requested three days off in May for Rock on the Range. My boys from Black Stone Cherry are going to be there, as are Alice in Chains! And a crap ton of other bands that I really like. Woot! Now, I just need to get the tickets and a place to stay and I’m SO THERE!!! Its just in Columbus, which is 3 1/2 hours from here, so there will be no concerns about plane tickets and such.
Just need a ticket. A ticket. And a room, somewhere. I’ll make it this time!
Peace out ya’ll. As Mahala would say, “Hump it like you just don’t care!”
when you eat a piece of pecan pie leftover from Thanksgiving. It wasn’t me. Well, maybe it was.
‘Tis the season for upgrades. Everytime I log into my e-mail or WordPress someone has changed something to make it new-fangled and supposedly better.
I’m finished with Nate’s and my Dad’s Yule shopping, haven’t got jackshit for anyone else. I’m broke.
Nate is grounded until Christmas Eve. When I picked him up from school yesterday he said, “I would just like to make my Last Will and Testament.” He bequethed his video games to Cam, his Legos to Buddy (ETW’s son), and anything left to T-Bird’s son. I’m pleased to report Nate is still alive, although he may die of boredom before December 24th. Sometimes you just have to put the fear of Mom into them.
Things with Jace are fine and dandy.
Troy is probably going to be getting a divorce in the New Year.
T-Bird and I have been talking. Nate and I went down on Thanksgiving and we had a really nice time.
I’m working the super double shift on Saturday – 8:30 a.m. to close. Things were “tense” today. The GM is ticked off. I only got half a story, I’m sure the rest will come out sooner or later.
Today is AZ’s birthday. He’s still older than I am. Today is also John Fred’s birthday. He’s still younger than I am.
I took Jirachi, Little Man, to the vet on my day off. He got his ears cleaned, bad ear mites, and a wormer, because he has round worms, and some viral inhibitor for his continously snotty nose that won’t respond to antibiotics.
Heed my warning, keep thy childrens contained in a restaurant or leave them the fuck home. As hyper as Nate was/is as a child, I always kept him in a high chair or otherwise contained in the booth in a restaurant. It is very difficult to lift a 50 lb. tray under normal circumstances, much less while worrying about whether you’re going to trip over the 2 year old hiding underneath it. Frankly, I don’t think a three hour adult Christmas party is the place for a 2 year old.
A party of 17 is difficult enough without the 2 year old, who was totally cute, just way in the way today. It came to my attention that when the dad left the room with him that he let him run amok for my co-workers to deal with as well. Its just flat fucking dangerous.
Plus, if you’re going to subject me to four courses, special menu, packages, wrapping paper, and other debris blocking my way, extra well done beef, your long winded boss, and a 2 year old, you could at least tip worth a shit, which you didn’t.
Thank the Goddess for wine and other alcoholic beverages.
And thank you sweet baby Jeebus for the awesome sex I had last night so that I could face the day.
Today, my friend Kevin has been dead two years. I’m finally at peace with what happened and I know that he is watching over me.
Day before yesterday, I was talking to our new evening pantry cook, Jace. He started about two months ago and we always passed on my way out and his way in. He works exclusively nights and I work almost exclusively days. He has another full-time job which is why he works nights. I thought he was really cute, but figured he was too young for me. Well, I found out he was only 5 years younger. Hmmmm…
Friday I worked evening shift and he made the remark that he really didn’t get to go out much and I said, “Yeah, me neither.” And then our conversation got swallowed up by other people hitting the smoke hole before shift started. Later, I was loitering around pantry, due to the positive vibe from our earlier conversation, and he asked me out, which I accepted. We quietly agreed to meet after I got off work yesterday.
We met at a local food and watering hole, ate, drank, talked, and watched football. We then went to another, more quiet, watering hole and drank more and talked. Things were going really, really good. I told him about Kevin and laughed about the fact that Kevin always ate those convenience store burritos that were as big as his head. They were closing up so I asked if he wanted to take a trip to one of my fave places and drink more. He was game so, yes, we headed to The Point.
On the way there, we stopped at the last gas station before heading out onto the sparsley populated two lane highway and ran into a guy who asked if we knew of any bars in the general vicinity, within walking distance, as he was driving a big rig. Jace and I both knew of some bars but they were too far away to walk in the cold night. The driver thanked us, held up a beer and said, “Well, I’ll just kick back in the rig and have a beer and some food.” That food… a ginormous convenience store burrito. It even said, “X-XLarge” on the package. I smiled and pointed it out to Jace.
On the way to The Point, I asked Jace if he believed in signs and he said that sometimes he did and sometimes he didn’t and that you could pretty well turn anything into a “sign” if you wanted it to be. I agreed but I also pointed out that I hadn’t seen anyone with a convenience store burrito until tonight and it was right after I told Jace about Kevin. He agreed that it was something to think about. We talked every moment of the 45 minute drive to The Point and I saw another sign… a shooting star.
Double Ds is the local dive/karaoke bar in that area, one that you can still smoke in. Jace used to sing in some bands so he took a stab at the karaoke and the owner wants him to take part in the karaoke contest next weekend. He’s hot and he’s a great singer, okay? Then the DJ played “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry and we had a great time singing that together, as well as the Kid Rock song, “So Hott.” I guess that goes to show that Jace and I… well, we’re birds of a feather when it comes to music.
We left around closing and took a short walk around town to see the Mothman statue, the waterfront, and the obelisk at Tu-Endie-We State Park. We got some kissing in as well. It was well close to 4 a.m. by the time we stopped by my house for a potty break before I took him back to his car. However, more kissing ensued and more kissing and finally, after 18 long months, I finally christened my queen size bed. Eight hours, very little sleep, and a trip to IHOP later, I finally dropped him off at his car.
He admitted at some point that he had thought of cancelling our date because we work together and he knows how that can go sometimes. I’m really glad he didn’t though. I’m also really hopeful that he doesn’t flake out on me, which could still happen, and sometimes does happen even though you have a great time together and we have a lot in common and some things not so much in common, which is a good thing. I laughed and smiled so much my face hurt.
For a date that lasted over 16 hours, I still wasn’t ready for it to be over. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry either. I’m not sure what’s going to happen but it sure is nice to know that I can still click with someone.
As for Kevin, I love you my friend and thanks for letting me know you’re still with me. I miss you.
At night I go to sleep and pray he is watching over me,
Somewhere there’s a sun that’s shining so bright that I can see you smile and all that I need is one last chance just to hear you say good-bye.
And if you have a dream, you better hang on for dear life. And when that cold wind blows just let it pass you by.
Selected lyrics from “Things My Father Said” by Black Stone Cherry.
Last night, my good bud, Beanie and I went to one of my favorite haunts, The Point. I think she’d had a bit to drink or wasn’t paying attention or both, because it took her about 45 minutes of driving in the dark on a two lane highway before she asked, “Dude, where are we?” Clueless was she.
I kind of didn’t tell her where we were going, just asked if she wanted to take a drive. I distracted her by listening to Black Stone Cherry’s new CD and telling her twice why I love Alice and Jerry and why AZ is still stuck in my crawl. Then I spent some time laughing at her as she told me how creepy The Point is, which I already know. Except, well, The Point is not so creepy for me anymore. I’m pretty convinced that The Point sits on converging lines of energy and the reason I am drawn there is due to that energy.
I love the riverfront there. I know I’ve been there so many times and have never taken pictures. Maybe someday. I can see that they are working on the murals again and the 7th annual Mothman Festival was this weekend, which I missed… but I much prefer The Point to myself.
Happened to talk to AZ while I was out there. Beanie was witness to the ultimate humiliation of hating someone and loving them all at the same time. I think somewhere in the rant afterwards that I, or we, came to the conclusion that he’s a big pussy and completely and utterly, fucking, clueless. CLUE. LESS.
I said, “Well, you and the wife have almost been married a year… how’s that workin’ for ya?”
He said, “Its had its moments. We were actually talking about that the other day and she said, ‘I didn’t think we’d make it a year’ and I said, ‘Me either, but there’s still time.'” See, clueless. I mean, if I’m going to go through all of this turmoil, then at least put your back into it! Dumbass.
Ya’ll are so right. I need someone with a little bit more of a clue! What a waste!
I think Jefferson Airplane said it best:
When the truth is found to be lies
and all the joy within you dies
don’t you want somebody to love
don’t you need somebody to love
wouldn’t you love somebody to love
you better find somebody to love
And they’d better not be fucking clueless.
Thank you for all of your comments and support. I’ll not try to kid myself nor any of my readers about my state of mind right now, which has some to do with not going to Arizona but has more to do with my life in general.
They say like draws like, so I try to keep a positive attitude and regularly give myself pep talks. It wasn’t lost on me that I was where I was supposed to be, and that wasn’t in Arizona, but catering a party for 100 people and making enough money to buy Nate’s medicine this week and have some left for cat litter, gas, and eye makeup remover. Although the reason for being here instead of there has not yet revealed itself, unless the real reason is that the Universe is truly trying to make me as fucking miserable as possible before revealing this “big thing.”
For some reason, my thoughts have been on AZ, not the state, but the person, a lot this morning and afternoon. Perhaps the reason being that his first wedding anniversary approaches and with it, a lot of baggage I wish I could just stop, drop, and roll on. A part of me wonders if I should tell him how I feel and have felt for a long time. Just get it over with and have my say. I’m not sure what that will accomplish. However, one of the new Black Stone Cherry songs covers my feelings on this subject. Its from the song “The Bitter End” –
I will never forget
All the things you said
I never heard you say you’re sorry
I hate you for leavin’ me dead
I did see T-Bird at her son’s birthday party where I was inundated with negativity and a list of her ongoing medical problems, and the inevitable embarassment of half the people in our group using some of the seven bad words in front of other families in a packed house of the kid’s restaurant with the rat for an icon. Oy vey. Have you ever been in a situation where you’ve been away from someone or something for a while, and then you’re around it again, and realize how much you don’t miss it? Kind of how I felt last summer when I went back to being a paralegal again for two days and I was ready to have my head examined?
I’m not going to lie and say I can’t use all of the seven bad words in one coherent sentence, nor am I going to lie and say I haven’t, however, when in a crowded, kid-friendly environment, I’ve been known to watch my mouth. Some people, including T-Bird, her family, and some of her friends, obviously don’t give a shit and they’re not quiet about it. So, that situation is still squating there like a toad.
My friend’s relationship with the Greek Adonis is progressing. Guess he decided the “male code” did not apply (and it doesn’t). I’m pretty surprised at how much hearing her talk about it is bothering me. I guess a year of noticing all of his fine qualities, like his manners and kindness, in addition to his good looks, hasn’t really gotten me anywhere. My reciprocation of his manners and kindess didn’t get me anywhere either. That’s a bitter pill to swallow.
I’m sure I’ll have a dose of bitterness tomorrow also over one of my co-workers. I have a great deal of affection for the young chef – not the aforementioned young chef that went back to culinary school, but the one who has been there since I started. He turned 18 last Tuesday. Last night at the catering, he was basically head chef, as he was our only chef, taking direction from owner chef, but then left on his own to woo and wow the masses. As his helper, I took direction from him and I was pleasingly surprised at his maturity and grace under pressure. (Especially when one lady, not happy with the ginormous portions of grilled flatbread and the ackee dish we had on the tables, decided to help herself to the salads and fruit we had covered on the table.) Ackee, by the way, is the national fruit of Jamaica man. It is de-lish!
Not that I haven’t flirted with him before, because I’m not bashful, but I honestly have a lot of affection for him, which everyone frowns upon because I’m 20 years older than he is and because I chose to treat him like the mature young man he is, versus my child or kid brother. I may be no Demi Moore and he’s no Ashton Kutcher, but I have a feeling I’ll be telling my co-workers to butt the fuck out of my friendship with him. I have no vile, evil intentions and they can just get over it.
And that prayer thing that Vince mentioned in my last comments, yeah. Well, I can’t say my faith hasn’t been shaken quite a bit in the past 22 months. I’ve prayed a lot, and I’ve told them and myself, that I know there is a purpose for everything that has happened. I’ve told myself that “God doesn’t like a quitter,” nor anyone who sits around waiting on life to happen to them, that a knight on a white horse isn’t going to show up and rescue me and all rescues should be self-induced. Sitting around in my house isn’t going to accomplish anything so I make that effort to go somewhere other than work and home, whether it be here or beyond. And, there’s the whole positive-attitude-white-light-projecting-pep-talks and the vile job of shaking off negative baggage and dealing with crap instead of just stuffing it further into the deep confines of my heart and psyche.
I mean, who wants Mr. Right to show up and me in the Wrong Place emotionally?
In as far as Mr. AZ, well, I learned a lot from that whole bullshit. I’ve definitely learned that I do have the capacity to hate someone with every sub-atomic particle in my body. The problem with that, is that you have to really care to hate someone and I really do care. The rest of the lyrics from “The Bitter End” tell a tale of love and hate.
(Through these times)
I’ve always held your hand
(By your side)
Everyday you couldn’t stand
(I’ll hold on) to see you rise again
(I’ll still love) You ’til the bitter end
‘Til the bitter end
I’m ready for the bitter end, okay? I know why I haven’t moved on past this yet and its because I had a huge emotional investment in AZ. I spent a greal deal of time walking around indifferent and numb and now I’m just pissed. I am very angry because I feel as though he took advantage of my love for him and used me at his discretion. I hate the fact it still bothers me. I hate the fact I fell for it. Its EMBARASSING to be played so fucking hard and buy into it with your whole fucking soul. Which is exactly what I did.
After Kevin died, he and I spent a lot of time together and on the phone. She wasn’t around and he and I did what couples do to console one another, emotionally, mentally, physically. And later he said, “I asked her not to be there and she said for me to take my time and she would be there when I was ready,” like she was some kind of saint. Oh, after I get him through the screaming, crying part of it, she can take the spoils of war. I told him, “Its not about whether she’s willing to be there for you, its about how much you’re willing to let her be there for you…” and he looked at me and the “like you are” was spoken.
Pretty powerful shit there. Don’t get invested in that. It didn’t mean shit, at least not to him, because two weeks later, he asked her to marry him. That’s what I meant to him – nothing. To believe anything else, regardless of what he did for me after the fire, regardless of all of the talks we had, the porch time, the backrubs, the blowjobs, the pussy lovin’, the laughter, the blood, sweat, and tears, the hugs and kisses, to believe anything other than it was a big fat fucking head game and that I EVER meant anything to him is detrimental to my recovery.
Given that I would rather not make this mistake again, and given that I would prefer not to carry this sort of baggage into another relationship, I’d better get crackin’ on making this the end. I’d like to truly get to the point where I am indifferent, not numb indifferent, just indifferent, because the opposite of love isn’t hate, its indifference. Its past time for the bitter end.
About NOT going to Arizona this weekend.
How I feel like there’s something out there, but I don’t know where to find it.
About my GM putting her dog down today. It was about the same thing that happened to Hermione, but her dog had a tumor on her liver. It breaks my heart for her, especially since I’ve been in her shoes too often.
About Not going to Arizona.
About the catering I’m doing tomorrow, and I really like the guy who is having the party, except, he gets touchy-feely when he’s had too much to drink. I figure he’ll have too much to drink and I hope I can find a place to hide, like behind my co-worker, who is tall and manly and won’t put up with much touchy-feely stuff.
About wasting my life. I love WV and I love the mountains, but its the same old tired stuff, every damn day. Except, I’m not sure if its me or WV or both. Its not that I can’t handle the hustle and bustle of the big city… I just don’t like to. I’ve put Columbia back on the 10 year plan. It gives me something to look forward to.
Feeling bad that I was jealous that my friend got to make out with the Greek Adonis and then all of that went to hell in handbasket because of the stupid “male code.” Then we both felt bad because he really is a good guy and showed that even more by being loyal to his friend. But, the “male code” still sucks and we don’t believe he really had a reason to implement it. Its very confusing and I don’t feel like explaining.
About going to bed… not in Arizona. Not seeing Black Stone Cherry tomorrow. Not seeing Alice in Chains. Not being in Arizona.
Can you tell I feel really shitty about NOT BEING IN ARIZONA?!? I know, I’m being selfish about it, when there could be worse things than not going to Arizona, like losing my house (again), or having 3 or 5 feet of flood waters or (insert horrible thing). But, I use my concerts and traveling to keep myself going for me. Not for work or for Nate, but for me.
I’d really like to take some dance classes again, just not sure where I’d fit it in and how I’d pay for it. Maybe I’ll ask for dance classes for Christmas, along with an iPod. Yep, still don’t have an iPod. Still not going to Arizona.
So tired of being here, wherever “here” is.