I stopped by to see The Date after I got off from work and sealed the deal, so to speak. It was enjoyable, physically, and I knew it was going to happen and he definitely wanted it to happen. And thereafter my mind clicked and whirled and moved on to thinking about my novella.
This is one of those things I’m still very blocked on and that is having feelings about guys and having lasting feelings about guys. If I had thought or known that things were going to be “more serious” I would have waited to have sex with him but I know it isn’t and it’s something I might as well get out of the way. I don’t truly believe that is the only thing he wanted out of me, but I know it’s where he is in his life right now that I was someone he desired and he probably wasn’t going to stop until I gave in or hurt his feelings.
I just had a desire for sex and he was available, and he had a desire for me and I made myself available. That’s about it. So, no progress, no romantic notions, no giggling, gushing… anything. *Click* *Whirl* *Next*
However, I did make a great deal of progress on my novella last night, even though after my romp I was actually sated and tired, physically, but my mind, she just never shuts up which creatively speaking can be a good thing. This is something I’ve only disclosed a few times but I make myself cry when I get to certain parts of my stories. I compose in my head all the time – mini-movies moving reel to reel and sometimes the emotion behind those reels is so overwhelming I just bawl.
I wrote the scene inspired by David Gray’s “Draw the Line.” The lyrics didn’t inspire so much for this scene as did the simple acoustic guitar line. The scene is so poignant. The lyrics to the song inspired another scene, which is so emotionally charged I forgot I was sitting on my couch, instead, I was in a wheat field during a thunderstorm. Rain, thunder, sleet, and hail battering me as much as the emotions, the violence from within.
I just wallow in it. I wallow in the world and emotions I create for my characters. Just like a little piggy, wallow, wallow, wallow. Just stretch out and soak in the mud, snorting and grunting on occasion, startling the flies with a flick of my ear. *Piggy grin*
Did I tell you I intend on having a soundtrack for my novella? Yep. Not of the songs that inspired it, but my own songs based on what I’ve written. Is that not neat? Plus, I know a lot of musicians… who’s to say I won’t just put the soundtrack and some spoken-word with it, like Viggo Mortensen did with his poetry book. Wallow, wallow, wallow.
And let me tell you what a great young man I have. He called me at work wanting to know what time I was getting off. Of course, I made a pit-stop but he called later to let me know he had gone to the local Dominoes and gotten us pizza and Cinnastix and in his own words, “I got you a pizza too, Mom, because you know I’ll eat a whole one, and I got you Cinnastix because I know how much you like them.” Then we watched Jeff Dunham and Bill Engvall.
*Smile* Wallow, wallow, wallow.
So, as always when working on blog posts, I run into the problem of cats stepping on the computer and erasing everything I’ve written. Now that I’ve written it once, I don’t feel like writing it again. That Stream of Conscious has hit the River of Thought and is gone.
I was writing about my brother and my son. My relationship with my brother will never be what I want it to be because my brother doesn’t want a relationship with us. And, my son suffers from education depression and is unmotivated. There isn’t anything I can do about the first, but the second I’m working on. I have a feeling his 504 next year will look very different than last years.
Nate has more motivation now, motivation to learn, but that doesn’t mean he’s excited about learning and learning to his potential. If that makes sense. I’ve been reading a book that my friend Vince recommended called, “The Mind of Boys,” and it has been very helpful. Although I wish I had discovered it a long time ago. It is also very helpful for someone who will be teaching boys.
Things are sort of… up in the air right now. Although I’ve had my issues at work, I do love my job. However, I also need to teach for my graduate degree and I’m attempting to get my feet under me to accomplish that. I need to make a decision but don’t feel I’m in the position to make it yet. Argh!
I haven’t mentioned AZ for a while. We see each other for lunch on occasion and he wrote one of my recommendations for graduate school. It made me teary-eyed. I think one of the most important things he put in there was how inspiring I was to him. I chose to believe him instead of thinking he was bullshitting. When I think back over the course of our very long relationship, I can see why he would write that and the small strides he is making toward being the person he wants to be instead of allowing himself to be tossed about by everyone elses currents.
T-Bird went back to school and she is searching for a job. Even in our job market, which has not taken the recession as hard as others, this is tough. People are so desperate for jobs that she is getting low-balled, even with the experience and job training that she has had. It’s scary.
Things on the relationship front have changed since my last post. I’m not sure how to characterize it. One of my guests that I’ve known since I started working there asked me out. We’ve always had a good relationship and I like him, plus he really is a good kisser. I’m not sure though, I think he’s a bit too… something. Problem is, he’s such an open book and I’m so good at reading him empathically, I know what he wants and what he’s thinking before he does.
Therefore, I already knows where it’s going, which I’m okay with. I’ll figure out more when we go out Friday. I don’t see it having long-term potential, which I’m also okay with. Most of the time, even more often now, moreso than before, this is the kind of short-term ride I pass up but this time I’m just going to jump on. It’s too intriguing not to.
I have a feeling that once he figures out I can’t be fooled, he may just move on.
I also like the fact that I can feel again. For long I’ve been blocked. I still am but only to a degree, only to the degree that I chose to be. For too long I’ve viewed the world through dispassionate eyes because it was easier than feeling the pain. The pain isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I suppose, thus far, I’ve lived through the worst of it. Losing my pets, AZ’s marriage, the Court case with Jeff, all of which produced literal physical pain in addition to my emotional pain.
Now, I’m back to trouncing through it, roiling it up, and kicking its ass instead of fearing it. One of my co-workers refers to me as Sarah Connor – not bad, not an ass, but badass. I’m more Sarah Connor, flawed, human, and badass, and less like Wonder Woman. I like knowing I can be Sarah C0nnor and I don’t have to be Wonder Woman, although I do love the boots. But, combat boots will work too.
I need to go mow the grass before the storm hits. I’ll leave you with some music and SURPRISE! It is NOT Alice in Chains. One of my favorite lines from this song was what I posted on Facebook: “Here we are buck naked, yeah, but where should we begin, when its not the flesh we’re after but the howling ghost within?”
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!
I’m really down today. Went to bed that way, woke up that way, trying not to be that way only makes it worse. I’m going to see Alice in Chains tonight, which should be a reason for celebration and I’m sure it will be, but, I’m not there yet. I’m still here, stewing in my recent unfufilled fantasies, which really translates to recent failures.
I should be fucking happy and grateful. I make a good living doing something I really enjoy, Nate still has the opportunity to pass 8th grade, I’m applying to grad school, I have food, clothing, shelter, cable, internet, a car that is paid off, money in a savings account, heat when I’m cold, and air conditioning when I’m hot and since it’s Spring, finally, I may have both on the same day. I sure have a lot to complain about.
Still, my therapist would tell me to just admit I’m heartbroken, to admit I have feelings and that my feelings are important, and that someone hurt them. And that someone is Adonis.
I think everyone has problems with being ignored and overlooked. I particulary have deep seeded problems with this given that my accomplishments in life have been mainly overlooked and ignored by my parents, my mother in particular, in favor of my brother. I take it so personal, so deep down in the gut when someone ignores me, to the point of acute evil anger which is really just hurt disguised because anger is more righteous than hurt.
Adonis and I had talked about going hiking together and had exchanged a couple of e-mails about it. Because of my work schedule and their unwillingness, despite my oft-mentioned reminders of what our agreement was (work the shitty Sunday shift and I get Saturday off, at least while Nate is in school), I requested May 1st off for the traditional German day of hiking and in celebration of Walpurgisnacht.
I sent Adonis an e-mail, now 9 days ago, asking him about his interest in going hiking on May 1st, figuring this would only be the nice thing to do given he has a full life and so do I and making plans ahead of time would probably be a good idea. He did the worst thing imagineable, he ignored me. Then when I saw him last night at work, he said hi and then wouldn’t look at me the rest of the evening.
This is all very bad news for mutiple things, one being my ego, two being hope, and three being dreams – at least as they relate to him. It’s rare around this town to find someone that is single, good looking, not gay, intelligent, and isn’t afraid to get a little dirty. I know he isn’t afraid of this because I’ve seen pictures of him and his four-wheeler plastered with mud. I like that in a man. I like the fact that he wears a suit and tie and has a great job that he works very hard at and is still a down-to-Earth humble person.
He also hurt my feelings which suddenly makes all of the other shit not worth a damn. Reject me if you’re not feeling it, but don’t fucking ignore me. I would rather be rejected than ignored. Ignoring someone is a rejection, but it isn’t an honest rejection. It’s a poor man’s rejection. It’s just fucking rude and man, it fucking hurts.
And what is with all of the other bullshit that has gone on with us in the past months? What? I mean, seriously! Stop the act, Adonis! Or just tell me you’ve changed your mind, don’t want to, sorry, you’re too old for me, sorry, I don’t want to be your friend, sorry, I don’t have time for you. Good Goddess, tell me something, BUT DON’T FUCKING IGNORE ME!
I’m not normally given to self-pity but today, I’m wallowing in it like a dog wallows in the first shitpile it finds after a bath. I’m sure my therapist would be happy to know I’m taking time out of my day to admit I have feelings, admit someone hurt them, and that I’m crying over it, which apparently are normal responses instead of my past response of attempting to squash it under my boot like an annoying crunchy bug and mash it into a crack in the sidewalk and forget to attempt it ever existed.
“It’s all right/there comes a time/got no patience to search/for peace of mind/Layin’ low/want to take it slow/no more hiding or/disguising truths I’ve sold” – Alice in Chains from Jar of Flies.
My cracks are full of mashed crunchy bugs and I’ve been working at digging their skeletal remains out. What a nasty job. I’d rather not add the insult of another crunchy bug to the injury the skeletons have left behind. Plus, I’d rather not go psycho mean on his ass. He may deserve it, but I’m not lowering myself to dish it. What is it they say, you can stand up for yourself without being an ass about it?
“Hope, a new beginning/Time, time to start living/Like just before we died/there’s no going back/to the place/we started from/Hurt, falling through fingers/Trust, trust in the feeling/There’s something left inside/There’s no going back/to the place/we were before/all secrets known/Calm, all wounds are healing/Strong, truth is worth saving/I want to feel alive…” All Secrets Known – Jerry Cantrell from Black Gives Way to Blue.
Another thing. This whole situation has not given me much courage and really, I need some courage. It’s no secret to anyone here, especially myself, that I’m a lemming when it comes to Jerry Cantrell’s music. I study his lyrics like I study Maya Angelou, Ernest Hemingway, Jim Harrison, and other writers. I plan on doing one of my grad papers on his lyrics, both from Alice and his solo work. What? He’s a poet too.
Anyway, I just have this idea for some of my writings and I want so bad just to have five minutes of his time to ask if in the future, if he would be interested in doing something like that with me. It takes a certain bit of ingenuity, but I am nothing if not ingenious, to steal five minutes of his time, hell, maybe three. But it also takes courage and a willingness to stiffen my spine and take the rejection, which frankly, my success rate at this endeavor, to work with him, is almost assured at 1% and maybe less, but my failure rate is assuredly 100% if I don’t have the courage to ask.
Courage is a quality or spirit that enables someone to face difficulty without fear. Brave is having courage. Fearlessness, pluck, mettle, nerve, spunk, spirit, audacity.
If I don’t ask the answer will always be no. If I don’t ask the answer will always be no. If I don’t ask the answer will always be no.
What do you call it if you still face difficulty but you still have fear? What if I do have the opportunity to ask but I’m still shaking like a leaf when I do? What’s that called? Stupid but brave? Brave but stupid? Courageously stupid? Courageously stupid but hopeful?
I still have time. It’s not like I have to ask today and maybe there would be a better time to ask. A different approach. Ingenuity. Sometimes it’s not what you ask but where and when and I’m pretty good at determining that. For now, I’ll leave that in limbo and that’s okay. I’m no where near where I want to be on that project anyway. Maybe I should actually finish writing it first!!!
I get excited and put the cart before the horse when I should be much more methodical in my approach, at least to some things. Potential energy is a good thing, but really, you have to make sure its going to go kinetic before involving other mortals. This is also what you call “inspiration.” Move your ass, or you’ll never get to ask him because it should be transitioning between potentional and kinetic before you make your move.
“I go to sleep behind the eight ball/I live to fight for one day/I’m trapped in the cold outside/there ain’t no shelter/they wanna force my hand/’Til I/Take what I wanted, and/break all the lies that they/feed, the fuckin’ liars/smash all the temples, and/crawl through the rubble, and/cry to the fallen/I’m the last my kind still standing…” – Last of my Kind – Jerry Cantrell and William DuVall from Black Gives Way to Blue.
Good to have figured that out now instead of stressing about it all damn day and ruining my 1% chance by putting my ass before my brain. By doing so, I may have just increased my odds to 5%.
Back to Adonis. I told T-Bird about what happened and her response isn’t really relevant. It was everything you would expect from a best friend. However, I told her that as Nate and Cam and I sat at dinner after hiking on Saturday that I thought about the empty chair beside of me at that four top table. For some reason, Nate and Cam, even at 13 and 15, still don’t act mortified that I’m around and even though I give them space, they’re very inclusive of this old lady.
However, it does nothing to fill that empty chair at the table with an adult, and forgive me my female friends, but I want it to be a guy, like a boyfriend or potential boyfriend guy that I could sit and chat with while the boys are talking about video games. And me, the one who values her solitude, has to admit loneliness in those moments.
It took that empty chair to make me realize I am lonely and how much I wished there was a special someone, a just for me someone, there to fill it. Oh wait, I mean, I’m admitting it out loud.
“Tears that soak a callous heart,” – I Stay Away – Alice of course – Jar of Flies.
It’s days like this I really miss Smokey. He never minded when I cried into his fur. He would just grab a hold of my face with his paws, lick my forehead with his rough-ass cat tongue, and chew my hair. Boy, am I making the rounds today. My therapist asked and I admitted to the fear that if I start crying I may never stop, that there may not be a way to “Dam That River.”
This may be the day I never stop.
Hi, it’s me, Peach. I know, I haven’t been around and there is a good reason for that.
First, I’ve been writing a lot of fiction and some memoir and otherwise trying to get my shit together to apply to graduate school. I talked to an admissions counselor at my first choice college and I really, really liked his attitude and he seemed impressed with my perseverance. I am nothing if I am not perseverant, persistent, tenacious, pertinacious, stubborn, and obstinate. All of which mean the same thing … just a show of force.
I am also blogging because Evil Twin’s Wife asked me the other day if I was “ever going to post again.” I suppose even though she can call me anytime and sometimes we hollow out an evening to sip wine and converse, it isn’t the same as reading my thoughtful commentary on life. Heh.
I am so thankful I feel the Earth finally warming up. I woke up this morning at 2:40 or so and felt the shift from winter to ….ahhhhh, almost Spring. I still think we’re in for a few more snow storms but none are on the horizon for this week. This is really good, because I’m leaving Wednesday morning to go see Alice in Chains in DC. I found out this morning that Huntington, WV is in the just announced new shows and I’m thrilled because I will be able to take Nate to his first AIC show! And, I get to see them again. Win, win!
Which leads me into the next topic: Reality TV. I read that Jerry and Sean are not a fans of Celebrity Rehab. Former Alice bassist, Mike Starr, is on the show this season. I am not a fan of reality TV. I don’t watch Idol, Survivor, Jon, Kate, Eight, Duggars, or any of the others. I feel I have enough drama in my own life, none of which I want. However, I knew that Mike was on the show this season, yet still did not watch it, until yesterday.
Since Jerry and Sean had expressed their disgust of the situation, I thought I may want to check it out. I watched the last three episodes first. I cried the whole time and it wasn’t a cathartic cry, it was a hurt cry. I was glad that I got to see and hear Layne Staley’s mother’s thoughts on Layne’s death and her encouragement to Mike. The family section was extreme and difficult. I’ve walked a mile in their shoes and the miles stretch on ahead of me.
It was so disturbing that I spent time just laying in the bathtub listening to Alice, contemplating the horrible ways that my life, my son’s life, and our psyches have been impacted by addiction and alcoholism. I had tried to explain to T-Bird the other night what it was like to be alone raising your child, to have the responsibility that your decisions will forever impact their lives and that burden has shifted to your shoulders alone, at least, that’s the way it feels.
I also found the show disturbing because I identified so strongly with their stories that it brought all sorts of things to the surface for me. Not just in my relationship with addicts, but in my relationships with abusers and how I deal with things. I’ve talked to my counselor about things along those same lines and MacKenzie Phillips said something on there about not walking around pain but going through the middle of it. That really hit home.
One of my worst faults is trying to pretend I don’t have feelings. If I work hard enough at convincing myself I don’t have feelings then no one can hurt them. Which is ridiculous, especially considering I am one of those people that wears their emotions on their face and I shoot it out of my eyes in all directions. (I have a sort of funny story about that.)
I am also well aware I have feelings, a shit-ton of them as a matter of fact. Some are sunny and happy, others, not so much. It’s dealing with the “not so much” that I have trouble with, that, and just admitting that I don’t have sunny, happy feelings and just admitting that shit hurts, a whole hell of a lot, and that I’m scared and frightened for myself and my son and where our lives are going. One thing to say it, another thing to actually process it and release it to a point where it doesn’t wake me up in the middle of the night.
Jerry and Sean were upset because they felt as though their friend, who is a serious, long time, poly drug abuser, is being exploited. I can’t say I agree with that because he knew he was going to be televised and agreed to all of that shit, at least to the degree that a drug addict can. He chose to make his private hell a public one. I’m not sure why, everyone has their own reasons. Plus, it IS reality TV and it doesn’t get much more exploitive than that.
Personally, I found it disturbing and not at all cathartic, just a reminder of what it is like to deal with addiction and how much it fucks you up. It reminded me of what it is like to be thrown away by an addict for their drug and that is a really shitty pain. So it reminded me of the issues that I still have to work on, big deal. I’m reminded of that everytime I go to my counselor.
What also disturbed me were some of the comments on the message boards… “I’m so addicted to watching this show!” Well, obviously you’ve never dealt with an addict, lady.
Obviously you have never wished that a person in your life would be one of the ones to seek treatment.
However, what I did find the most interesting were the brain scans. Jeff liked to point out to me that his liver enzymes were spot on, neener, neener. Well, you dumb fuck, your liver might be made of steel, but you have had more than one alcoholic seizure, just like the one Mindy McCready had. Yep, you may die with a healthy liver, but the alcohol is eating your brain away. Neener, neener.
I got stuck in traffic behind that fucktard the other day and he slowed down to like 20 mph. Like I WANTED to be stuck in traffic behind him, of all the fucking people in the world. Yep, that tends to bring things to the surface as well. Don’t you wish you were a fly on the wall at my counseling sessions??? Some sweet stuff goes on in there.
Okay, so let’s lighten this post a little. I will tell you the sort of funny thing I mentioned from above. As a server and bartender there are a couple of things that really irritate me. One is ignoring me when I come to your table. I don’t even wait anymore. If you don’t acknowledge me, I will walk away and serve the other people in my section and I will come back to you when I’m done with them. I have no problem with waiting to take your order if you want to catch up with your friend, but you need to communicate that to me, not ignore me.
My next irritation is glass rattling. This most often occurs with glasses that have ice in them and it’s the sound of the ice rattling in the glass when you shake it at me. This form of non-verbal communication really pisses me off. I assure you I am not blind and can most certainly see that you need another drink and will also ask you if you would like the same. The other night a young man shook his glass at me. It didn’t have ice in it, but it had the same effect. This young man had been fine until the point his friend showed up.
I felt my eyebrow go up and I’m certain I shot daggers out of my eyes because he got a look of , “Oh shit, I think I just fucked up.” His glass stayed on the table for the rest of the evening and he was super polite. I work very hard to keep a calm, composed look on my face, especially when it is busy. If I’m calm, then my guests are calm. If I look stressed, my tables will stress.
Such was the case as I attempted to take an order the other night, at the table beside of the glass rattler. There were six people at the table and one of the women was braying like a scalded donkey, I mean, laughing at everything the guy two seats away from her was saying in a loud and obnoxious manner. Sure, have fun, have all the fun you want, but please, not at the expense of every diner near you.
I had taken everyone else’s order and he kept on making jokes, the lady would bray, he would make a joke, the lady would bray, I felt like I was in Groundhog DayMinute. It was almost to the point where I was going to say, “I’ll come back for your order,” thus delaying all of the other orders at the table because of one jackass, when one of the other diners at the table said, “You know, she has other tables.” I almost swallowed my tongue.
The guy looked over and said, “You do?”
I smiled and said, “I do.”
The other diner added, “Several.” Needless to say, the guy made a quick selection and moved on. This did not stop them from being so loud I was embarrassed for them, but it did give me the opportunity to serve the food and ship them off to the bar.
(Our bar at the restaurant.) She was seated to the far right at the high top barely visible in this picture and I could hear her braying all the way at the service line in the back. It gave me a headache.
I don’t guess that really lightened things did it? Oh, did I mention that RM is going to a different location so now I have another new RM? The good thing about old RM, although we had had some serious toe-t0-toe confrontations, was he knew what the hell he was doing. New RM? No. I think he’s trying a little but I also feel a great deal of apathy from him. *Sigh*
I do have something for the “My Kid is Hilarious” file. When I tell Nate to do something (or not do something), he has gotten in the habit of mumbling under his breath, when I ask, as I always do, “What?” He looks up in all innocence and says, “What?” As though nothing as happened. This makes me laugh out loud which is really just a way of squelching the desire to tuck his long-haired head under my arm pit and knuckle his head until we’re both bleeding.
This is getting more difficult as he is now just a mere 1/16th of an inch shorter than I am… with size 11 feet. Oy.
That’s all the love and happiness I can spread around today. Guess I’ll be back in another couple of months. Ya’ll take care.
Why I have not blogged:
1. I am training to walk a marathon.
2. I’ve been working on my screenplay. In one day I created a wonderful character that I fell in love with and then killed him, of course because he asked me to, to serve as a catalyst for the protagonist. I cried for an hour.
3. Since Jeff dipped out of our lives permanently, for now, that is, I’ve been doing a lot of crying, whether I’m killing my favorite characters or not. His “leaving” is a catalyst for the protagonist and here, I’m the protagonist.
4. I’ve been watching TV with Nate. We hang out a lot. This reminds me of how precious he is so that I do not come unhinged over his abysmal grades.
5. Sometimes, I nap.
6. I’ve been observing my world like I’ve never seen it before.
He stood on the edge of the parking lot, white hair glistening in the Autumn sun. I wondered if long, dark grey, wool coats, stiff black suits, and crisp white shirts were the standard issue uniform for funeral home personnel. Alway so pristine, as though lint and cat hairs are afraid to bond to their clothing. I glanced around for a hearse and thought that he must be waiting to direct them, anyone, to the right entrance. Later, I saw him in the same place, hands clasped behind him, coat fluttering open in the breeze, enough to see the unwaivering tie and matching handkerchief. It was then I realized he was waiting for death, perhaps even calling to it.
7. I have been memorizing and singing all of the new songs by Alice In Chains. As always, their music is a soundtrack for my life. Some of my favorite lyrics:
A wolf alone upon the hillside
i live on what they thrown away
i go to sleep behind the eight ball
i live to fight for one more day
i’m trapped in the cold outside
there ain’t no shelter
they wanna force my hand
til i take what i wanted
and break all the lies
that they feed, the fucking liars
smash all the temples
and crawl through the rubble
and cry to the fallen (Last of My Kind)
No one plans to take the path that brings you lower
And here you stand before us all and say it’s over
It’s over (Your Decision) Beautiful, amazing song. Cathartic.
Pray, squeal when you’re caught
Cry, it’s not my fault (When The Sun Rose Again) Love the guitar on this song.
I don’t wanna feel no more
It’s easier to keep falling
Consciously avoiding changes
Curtain drawn, now it’s done
Silencing all tomorrows
Forcing our goodbyes
Lay down, black gives way to blue
Lay down, I’ll remember you (Black Gives Way to Blue)
Sir Elton John plays on this song. Simple and simply beautiful. A live video of this song, minus Sir Elton.
That’s about it. Just trying to get my ducks in a row. Oh, and I had to fix a couple lyrics. I just got my liner notes downloaded and got all of the RIGHT lyrics. Oh yeah.
As you know, I’ve applied for a big uppity job with the Fed’ral Gubbermint. I’ve made the decision that even if they call, I’m going to decline the interview. I’m not going to be happy working in an office full-time. Not now, not ever. I can be intellectual, wear pretty clothes and high heels when I’m not serving and bartending, which makes me happy. Being on the move makes me happy. Writing, making jewelry, dancing, and just even thinking about fiddle playing, makes me happy.
Life is just too fucking short and if the Mayans are right, I have just 3 more years to pursue all the things that make me happy. The biggest thing that made me realize this was when I got my Social Security statement in the mail.
The year before the fire I made $40K. The year of the fire I made $12K. I still paid the mortgage, I still kept the utilities on (sans Internet at times, but that’s not a utility), a car on the road, my son, myself, and the cats fed and pretty well taken care of. Although I would be remiss not to mention that I also received over $2600 in child support and I used some of my house money to keep us going, but still, its no where near the $35K and $40K I made the years leading into 2007.
Things are tight, I don’t always get to travel like I want, Nate isn’t sporting a new Wii (yet), I still have a crapton of outstanding medical bills and debt, but generally I’m happier. Serving and bartending isn’t always the greatest job in the world, but its better than sitting in an office. Its not even what I do as a job that is important as what I do with the free time I have, and, the energy and motivation to do it.
Sure, Restaurant Manager and I are going to clash, this is nothing new. Some of my co-workers are going to be greedy fucks that make me want to slap them around a bit. Some of my co-workers are going to whine, be lazy, and generally get on my nerves, but, you have that everywhere.
Yes, I need a new car and a new roof on my house. I’ll get there. Nate’s window needs fixed as does the shingle on my roof. So, I just signed up for all the free car ads on The Free Car, which has a membership of $40 for 5 years. Car payment or $40 to possibly drive my own car and get money (towards a new car) or a new car to drive for 3-6 months or even 2 years? Its worth looking into. I see cars around here with the ads on their cars so I know its available.
Like I said before, I’ve been submitting some of my writings to the local paper and 38 is never too old to really grab life by the balls and do what I’ve always wanted instead of what everyone else wants. There was an ad in the paper for a writer for the local legal journal. Even then, I’m not so sure I would be happy. So, for now, I’ll be where I am with a new attitude.
Oh, and the funny thing… I told Nate that I wanted to learn to play fiddle and he looked at me with his, “Ya gotta be kiddin’ me, Momma,” look and said, “Well, I hope you install a soundproof wall.” I reminded him that he could just turn up the sound on the iTunes while I closed the door to the bedroom. He said, “Well, just don’t come out until you sound like Charlie Daniels.” Yeah, no pressure there!
Lex is leaving for college tomorrow. He came over tonight to tell me good-bye and rub my bum shoulder that I hurt while raking the lawn in preparation for mowing. Then he decided to rub some other things and … well, that worked out okay.
I wish I could say that I’m going to miss him.
One of my therapists was digging around in my past the other day and said, “You’re angry, why are you not talking about your anger?”
I said, “I am angry! I know I’m angry.”
“Then why are you not talking about it?”
“I am talking about it, I just told you I was angry. I’m not sure what you want. Do you want me to tell you that my mother is a fucking bitch, because I can do that ALL DAY.”
That must have been what she wanted because she let me rant and rave for a bit. I’m not much happier with my dad for not opening his mouth and saying something all those years. Matter of fact, I may be more mad about that. I can remember my mom being mad because supposedly my dad took up for me in private. Whatever. It didn’t help anything then, and it doesn’t help anything now.
I’m not exactly sure where I found all of the strength I have, it certainly wasn’t from either of my parents.
I only saw my dad tell my mom to shut up one time. It wasn’t about me, it was about something else, but in my opinion, he should have told a bit more, instead of sitting around with his arms crossed, absorbed in the TV so he didn’t have to deal with her. No, he left that to me. Thanks Dad, thanks a whole hell of a lot.
I think one reason that I am so strong, or at least appear to be is that my mother was such a whiner. Just a whining pathetic bag of emotional tangles and depression and not much has changed. The combination of never wanting to be like that, and the stiff upper lip I developed from her emotional abuse and abandonment and my father’s literal abandonment, by staying away a lot of the time, just conditioned me to not be, what I perceived, a whining pathetic sot.
I conditioned myself to roll through life, taking the punches, left and right, and getting up, dusting myself off, and moving on. Really though, I was just shoving a bunch of shit down inside of me and now I’m spinning my wheels.
What’s really frustrating is listening to my mother yak on about Dr. Ph*l and Opr*h as though they are the end all and be all of how to better yourself. WHATEVER WOMAN! She talks about all of the people she sees on Dr. Ph*l but never has the self-awareness to realize HOW MUCH LIKE THEM SHE IS!
And my dad, Jesus H. Christ, I don’t think the man has contemplated an emotion for several years. I’m one of those people, you know, the ones who are certain they were adopted but were never told. I always thought my dad was an intelligent man, but has he ages, he shows just how ignorant and close minded he is.
Anyway, I want to learn how to play the fiddle. And I want to go back to dance class. And, instead of one story, I’m submitting several to my local paper’s “Write Your Own Column” section.
So, that’s how I feel in these early morning hours.
Nate spent the week at my parents’. Each of the grandsons visit a week during the summer. When each of my nephews is there, Nate goes up and spends the weekend with them. I spent a lot of time working and cleaning. I finally cleaned “the dirty corner.” Just where a bunch of junk and trash ended up. I’m very happy that “the dirty corner” is clean now. I still have a lot of things in storage containers but I’m whittling it down little by little.
I did make a trip to the bookstore and picked up, “When God Winks At You: How God Speaks Directly To You Through the Power of Coincidence,” by Squire Rushnell. I can’t wait to get the rest of the books. Highly recommended reading. I also got a new set of Oracle cards and a new set of Tarot cards. Its part of the long journey back to the Goddess.
I’ve long known I’ve had a crisis of faith and you can’t just sit around a wish it wasn’t so, you have to consciously come back to it. The Rushnell book was recommended to me by one of my best good friends, the oldest friend I have in the world. She and I were BFFs in second grade, born one day apart, and although on the surface our lives appear to have taken very different paths, the connection and the need to be in each other’s lives has persisted.
She had looked for me on Faceb**k, but as many of you know, I don’t use my real name. However, I did look for her and luckily she does use her real name. We talked at length about faith, and as we were discussing godwinks her cellphone started beeping by itself… and the numbers 777 came up. I just shook my head and said, “See???”
After doing several readings to get used to my new cards, I realized a lot of things. First, I am always amazed at the accuracy of the cards. Second, I was able to gain some insight by studying the pattern of the cards and by finding that pattern, I was better able to put my finger on something that has eluded me.
Just knowing things about yourself doesn’t make them go away. I am angry, and I know that is a reaction to something else. I’m hurt, sad, confused, but most of all, I’m afraid. It was easy to say, “Yeah, I’m afraid of Jeff. I’m afraid of Nate having to go back there. I’m afraid of having to deal with Jeff again.”
Actually, through the cards, it really dawned on me that I’m afraid of much more than just Jeff. You know what happens when you’re afraid? You tense up and you hold on. You hold on with a death grip, out of fear, even if its something that is bad for you because change will just spike your fear again.
The cards also spoke of needing to release negative energy and healing and possible complete and utter collapse of my finances. Well, I got The Tower and that always means calamity, and I got it in the finance portion of two different readings, but then I got The Bee in my other reading, which is always a great omen. I’ve gotten those conflicting cards before.
It means my path is not laid yet. It generally shows a confusion, that I’ll be at crossroads and I’ll have to make a decision whether I’m going to have the strength to let go. I generally believe that everyone knows it takes more strength to let go and move ahead than to sit in the same spot, treading water. It takes a lot of strength to pull all of the junk out of your closet and go through it than to just let the closet sit there like a toad. A fat ugly toad, just like the bad spirit from “Practical Magic,” sitting in Gillian.
You can bankrupt your life in more ways than just monetarily.
“I just saw Haley’s comet, she waved, said, ‘Why are you always running in place?’ ”
I did start the letter to AZ. Somewhere really close to the beginning I realized how much I didn’t care about this situation right now. Maybe I’ll care about it later. I just realized that I’ll never have the right man in my life if I keep holding on to the wrong one for the wrong reasons. He was the wrong one, for a lot of wrong reasons.
I also have to admit, as much as it pains me, I need to mourn and grieve over this situation with Jeff. I put a lot of work, time, compassion, and hope into our relationship. Even though Jeff and I hadn’t had a romantic relationship in years, this doesn’t mean we didn’t have a relationship. I’m so very disappointed and hurt that I had to do what I’ve done for myself and Nate.
You can’t change anyone other than yourself. No matter how much work, time, compassion and hope, so much HOPE you’ve put into your relationship with them. That sucks so bad, but life isn’t fair.
There was something else in my cards too. It was the Seven of Wands, which is Rivalry. I got it twice, and it means that I’ll have stiff competition in creative endeavors and business projects. I have to move to a new level of creativity and imagination. I may embark on a new course of study as a writer or teacher.
Today, I saw a blurb in the paper called, “Write Your Own Column.” I guess you send in your stories and they pick from those to appear in the paper. I’m exactly sure but I’m going to try.
The Goddess winks. Oh, yes she does.
Many of you have wondered about the adorable Wilbur. Does he really have horse teeth? Does he really resemble a pink pig with an arachnid girlfriend? Actually, he looks more like a baby Ewok.
Stunning, isn’t it?
I named him Wilbur because its just a ridiculous name and… well… he’s fat as a pig. Here he is with Chico.
It would appear that Wilbur is half Chico’s body size and you would be right. Something is just wrong with the fact that my 2 1/2 week old kitten is half the size of my 5 1/2 month old dog.
Wilbur is still smaller than me.
Went to see a local production of “Rent” this afternoon. Rosie has one of the lead roles (he’s Mark) and we’re all ganging up and going to see him in spurts. It was excellent. With the talent we have around here, you don’t need to go to New York, plus you get to go backstage and hang with the actors and their families.
That’s Rosie’s sister with us. She rocks.
Oh yes, and there’s my new bling-bling.
This is the new necklace I made. I bought a book by Laura McCabe and took some projects she had and used it to make myself something. The stone is a vintage copper Swarovski triangle. I did have it in a ring, but it was crude so I popped it out and decided to make something to match the outfit I had on today.
I’m supposed to write AZ a letter and let him know how I feel. Funny, after all of those years of writing to him, I can’t find a thing to say other than, “YOU’RE A MORON!” I think my counselor wants something a bit more than just, “You’re a moron!”
Listening to “Rent” really helped give me a better perspective on things and I really just need to get a better attitude and look at the bright side, while dealing with the dark side. And give AZ a piece of my mind.