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.
But I’m getting better, at least at picking my dates.
We had a really great time and we were also real about the chances our relationship is going to succeed. I know, talking about our chances and they aren’t that good but still just moving right along. First, there is quite an age difference. He hasn’t owned up to how old he is but his eldest son is five years younger than I am. Not that he looks it or acts it, which is a good thing. He’s probably 60+.
Then, as he pointed out, we’re at different places in our lives. He has four grandsons and I’m still raising my first child. I’m starting grad school and he’s already retired from one company and works for another. He’s going through a divorce and I’ve never even stepped into the ring once. I know his soon-to-be ex-wife and I really like her. He was a widow for almost 25 years before he married her. I think their divorce is a tragedy but also the best thing for both of them.
We laughed when Nate started texting me about when I was coming home. He said that paternalism is only going to get stronger. Having raised two boys by himself, he knows what I’m going through with being a single parent. Nate sounds much different than his step-son, for which I am grateful, because his step-son and his actions is one of the reasons he’s getting divorced.
He seems to feel as though I’m going to meet a Native American in Washington and move lock, stock, and barrel to the Northwest. I told him if that were so I hoped he looked more like Jacob Black than Harry Clearwater. I lost him with that.
We talked about our reactions should we bump into each other at the Bistro dating other people, which we were both cool with and intend on dating other people. Well, he does. He’s the first date I’ve enjoyed that I’ve found in this town.
Speaking of my trip to the NW, everyone is like, “Oh, it rains so much up there…” Port Townsend lies in the Olympic Mountain Rain Shadow so it only receives 16-18 inches of precipitation a year, by comparison, where I live now gets about 44 inches of precipitation a year. That isn’t to say the sun shines more, just that the clouds don’t pee as much. Plus, the high temperature doesn’t even reach 70. Still taking my raincoat!
I am so looking forward to this trip. I can’t even begin to express it. I’m getting myself a new netbook, hopefully. Money is tight right now. I had to expend a great deal to get me there and work is up and down. Still can make do with my old laptop but she’s much heavier and Nate can use the Netbook for school as well. Still have to arrange transportation from Seattle to Fort Worden. Other than that, I think I’m good.
Bought a new suitcase that meets all of the requirements for domestic and international flights because Lady knows I’m not paying MORE money for them to carry my luggage. My mother said that if anyone can make do with a carry-on piece of luggage for over a week, it is me. Yes, it is. Nate is still lobbying to go although he knows he can’t. He likes to give me a hard time but I know it’s because he wants to hang out with me and that makes me feel good.
I’m taking him to the one place I know he’ll have fun – the Taste of All at FestivALL. I can’t imagine getting more bang for my buck with him than at a food tasting expo. The restaurant will be there so he will have even more of an opportunity to get food. I can’t keep him fed. He has stretch marks really bad on his knee caps, all the way up his legs, and now they’ve migrated below the knee. Just a testament to how fast he’s growing.
He hasn’t had his medicine since right before school let out. Since he’s growing so fast I wanted him to be able to eat all he needed and wanted. Hasn’t put on a pound! Brat. He’s been a little annoying without the meds, more so just… HYPER! I’ve tried and tried and tried to get him interested in a sport, ANY SPORT, to no avail. I take him swimming and I’m taking him bowling as soon as I can.
Gotta go to work. Ya’ll take care.
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.
Hard to believe its been almost a month since I’ve been here. Some of you have asked about the Ghost Adventures thing. It was interesting. I got to see Dean Haglund for a few minutes. I wasn’t overwhelmed. I’m not saying TALA doesn’t have supernatural activity, but I will say that any experiences I’ve had have been spontaneous, not contrived and I certainly don’t go around saying, “Come ghost! Come and get me!” Blargh.
However, I did take one picture that turned out fairly well. They had the front of TALA lit up and it created a really evil shadow behind it, which was impossible to catch with my dinky camera. However, I do like the one pic that did turn out.
I’ll drift backwards a bit more and tell you about our trip to Coalwood for the October Sky Festival. We had a really good time and it was much, much larger than the first time we went… and much warmer.
Here’s Nate with Homer:
And Nate with Natalie Cannerday, who played Elsie Hickham in “October Sky.” She was a real hoot and Nate thought she was the shizznat.
I also took this picture of a police officer from a neighboring town called Keystone (and eavesdropped on his conversation with DJs from WELC). Yes, he’s a Keystone Kop and in reference to the 1960’s comedy, “Car 54, Where Are You?” that somewhat parodied the original Keystone Kops, his dispatch number was 54. He said it was a humbling experience.
Here are the Rocket Boys:
Jimmy (O’Dell) Carroll, Homer Hickam, Roy Lee Cooke, Billy Rose, and some dude. I don’t know who he is. I’ll have to send the picture to Roy Lee and find out. Roy Lee lives across the hill from me and we’ve struck up a friendship. We had a beer a week or so ago and he signed Nate’s “Rocket Boys” book and then asked if Nate wanted him to sign for the rest of the guys too, even Sherman (who is dead). LOL! He’s a hoot!
A pic of the old Coalwood Elementary (facade), seriously, nothing left behind this structure but a few crumbling piles of bricks and a few other pics of our trip, including part of a coal tipple.
Then there was my sorta class reunion. We didn’t have time for a full-fledged class reunion so the ones that could got together and went to a football game and dinner. I made it to dinner.
And this is part of where I go walking in the mornings:
But, shall I get to the real reason I’m here. A month or so ago, I had talked to AZ and he had mentioned having lunch with me on a day off. He didn’t call me, which I had expected, and I had forgot about it until I had a day off during the week. I thought, “Hell, we’ll see if he can put his money where his mouth is.” I texted him and didn’t hear from him until around 11. We met later at a local fast food place and had some lunch and I filled him in on the situation with Jeff and Nate and how work was and we chit-chatted about things, including one of his rental properties that he was currently working on because it had been trashed.
I went over with him and met one of his tenants who was helping him. I went back home and returned with the wedding gift I had made, two years late, but better late than never. He put it up in the cabinet of the rental and my best guess is it is either still there or he took it to his office. I doubt seriously his wife will ever see it. It was nice to just hang out with him and talk.
Two weeks later, or about a week ago, I texted him about a local station that suddenly went to a Christmas format, to see if he knew what the deal was. He called me and said they were as much in the dark as anyone and again invited me to lunch. I told him I would text him. So, I did. Again, we met at a local restaurant (he works in the city that we live in) and this time lunch lasted for two hours.
I told him of the recent troubles I’d had at work and gave him some of my new fiction. He told me he was unhappy in his marriage, that the last two years were nothing like he had expected, somedays he felt like he was taking care of a 16 year-old daughter instead of having a wife, unhappy at his job, and he was depressed and generally unhappy. Of course there were examples and explanations to go along with that. After a few “You gotta fucking kidding me’s” – eyerolls – and other annoyed noises from me, we said, “See ya later.”
He had to know that was going to roll around in my head for a while and I wasn’t going to let it lie. I got up the next morning and wrote him an e-mail. I basically told him, in a nutshell, what I’ve said on this blog since December of 2007, and more since September of 2008. I told him why I had dropped out of his life, how much it hurt when he got married and how much I felt as though I had lost my best friend and I was pretty pissed with the fact it hadn’t seemed to help his situation and really, that neither of them was helping the situation either. What a waste.
I also told him it was up to him as what to do with this life and to either get help or not for his depression and what to do about his marriage. I didn’t have a dog in that fight. I’d be there to listen but that was it. It was hard for me to admit, mainly to myself, how much I’ve really missed him. Not the bullshit, just him.
He took it well. He almost seemed happy. One bizarre note: After lunch, while we were talking, I noticed something very strange about his eyes. I said, “AZ, why are your eyes green?” He said, “They do that sometimes.”
“No, they don’t. I’ve known you for almost 18 years and I’d swear on a stack of bibles that your eyes are brown, have been brown, and have never been a shade of green, which, by the way, is creepy and almost frightening.”
“I know what my driver’s license says, but sometimes they get this way.”
AZ wasn’ t the only one to feel the sting of my honest observations and how it relates to MY mental health. I also wrote to Troy and told him I would not be meeting him in VA for my birthday because I’m done with making up for where other people make mistakes and are not happy with their decisions. Its not my fault he married an alcoholic and not my fault he stays married to her and there’s nothing I can do about that except be his friend and listen. But, that’s all I was going to be. Not his fuck buddy or the person he wants to be with while she’s in Australia.
Whether it was him or AZ or any of the other married, engaged, committed in some way, men that I’ve been messing with over the course of my life. I’m done being a side-dish. Your life will never change if you continue to do the same things and hope for a different outcome, that equals insanity. I want so much more and deserve to be so much more. I can’t bitch to them about having the courage to change their lives if I’m consistently falling back into my old patterns and being unhappy.
They both took this well and appear to understand and respect the boundaries I’ve placed on our friendships. It wouldn’t matter if they took it well or not, that’s just a bonus, because it didn’t matter whether they like it or not, that’s the way it was going to be, with or without them.
And me, I’m much more at peace. I’ll not say I’m happier, I’ll say I’m glad I was honest and that they know how I feel. It lifted burdens I’ve been carrying around for a long time and without those burdens its much easier to let the happiness I have inside come out. I feel stronger and much more badass than I have in a long time. Not badass as in bitchy, but badass as in, I rock!!!
I told T-Bird that not only is it the anniversary of my birth but also my new year. So, Happy New Year to me!!!
think I’ll stop running now. Ahhh, classic Forrest Gump.
I’m am actually very tired. I’ve had a cold, then I started my period. Sorry guys, but, its the truth. I had to put a heatwrap around my lower innards. This made me sweat all night and continually turn the thermostat down until everyone but me went into hibernation.
I’m still running around bumping into walls and such, waiting for the final order from the Court. I’ve had to remind myself to breath several times. I still look over my shoulder. I try to concentrate on just being a good mom and loving Nate, and holding his feet to the fire over his grades… already.
I feel the weight of the summer, Court, the fighting and the unknown so heavy on my shoulders tonight and I wonder what kind of weight he feels. I wonder where his mind wanders and what his dreams are like. His sister has been spending time here and they walk the streets at night, taking pictures of interesting things and each other. He talks to her. They share something even I don’t understand, just like her mom and I share something they don’t understand.
I try to concentrate on the good, my beading, Adonis and the opportunity to see him again, what I will wear to my class reunion, the classes Nate isn’t failing, the freedom. Okay, I’m trying to get used to the freedom. I’m still pissed the fuck off that that fucking moron isn’t taking any fucking responsibility for what he’s done. At least I’m willing to stand up and say I should have done this so long ago.
I’m a different person today. A different person than I was yesterday. Many yesterdays ago, I wouldn’t have contemplated making a play for the man of my dreams because I didn’t believe he existed for me. I knew he existed, I just didn’t realize I could have him. So, he’s 12 or 13 years younger than I am.
I remember very well the first time I looked into his eyes, when I saw nothing but blue looking back. The rush of attraction, the magnetism, that feeling. The excitement but also the comfort, so geniune in his response, and how he talked to me with his eyes.
I hope I’m not misreading him and I hope he doesn’t mind that I’m almost 39.
I would really love to have him in my life.
Yesterday, I received a call from my attorney’s paralegal. She said they had received a letter from Jeff’s attorney stating that Jeff did not believe that he or Nate was being treated fairly by the Court, that he loved his son, but, he would be withdrawing his objection to the petition and hoped that when Nate was older that he could explain his side of things and the two could have a relationship.
That was Jeff-speak for, “I’m a drunk, I don’t want help, I don’t want counseling, I’m not changing, I’m not trying, I haven’t gotten my way, so I’m taking my booze and I’m going home. This all someone else’s fault, but not mine. Nope, I’m the victim.”
Stunned, shocked, angry, relieved, sad, disgusted, angry, amazed, angry, very angry, stunned… just a few of the emotions I experienced. And the tears. I had forgotten that I still had it in me to cry. But I did, and I cried today too.
After all I’ve been through, after all I’ve studied, after all the counseling… how could I have forgotten how strong addiction is and how absolutely delusional it makes someone. How could I have forgotten the blaming behavior and zero accountability and zero responsibility for his actions.
I know I did the right thing. It is just the saddest thing for a man, for anyone, to choose a bottle (a syringe, a toke, a smoke, a gamble, pick your poison) over their family. And, this isn’t the first time, but for us, its the last.
Last night, I had a dream I was in a hospital and I had a black eye. The black eye is the pain, the hospital is the need to heal.
Yesterday, I was driving Nate to school and a doe ran in front of my car. I had seen her coming from the side so I had already slowed to stop. It wasn’t until later that I really understood. My grandmother sends the doe as a sign to me, and the symbol of the deer is that of gentleness, unconditional love, and kindness. Its comforting.
Yesterday, I got a hug from my Greek Adonis, conversation, and he asked me to make him beaded cufflinks. I was trying to explain about looming and he was rather confused. He said, “I’m going to Google that so that next time I can discuss it with some intelligence.” I like the idea of having a “next time.” He is so humble, gentle, kind, intelligent, genuine, classy, he’s fucking Prince Charming. He should be in a damn Disney movie! He looks like he should be in a damn Disney movie.
The spirits show themselves and they nudge a little. And *deep breath* *exhale* I’m ready for that. I’m ready for change for the better.
Guess what one of my dreams featured last night? I’m not sure if I had two dreams or one dream, but it seemed like two dreams. In one dream, I was in a high rise, more like a hotel, but there was bad weather outside, rain, and I felt a draft from the huge windows.
In the next dream I saw a tornado through large windows. I literally saw the vegetation being pulled from the ground, ala “Twister,” and while I ran to a stairwell and hid because I believed the windows would be blown out, the two ladies in the room with me didn’t run, and the windows didn’t blow out.
These are actually all good signs of transformation and moving on with my life. Oh, did I tell you that I dreamed I was getting married the other night? Yeah, to our bartender, Candyman. Oddly enough, I was very calm in the dream about getting married, very peaceful. This is also a good sign.
Perhaps this is because I found an odd e-mail from Jeff at my secondary e-mail. It read (with poor grammar, spelling, and punctuation preserved): “I want to congratulate you, with your win. Though lies, and being friends of the COURT you have won. I don’t know what you’ve gained, (and what harm you did to Nate, by going this path) but I hope you’re happy.”
My first response was “Huh?” I don’t see us agreeing with the Court’s suggestion that he and Nate undergo counseling at the same place and letting the doctor decide as to when or if they would have counseling together and future visitations as a win. I was under the impression we had an AGREEMENT, not a win or a loss. Besides, no one really wins.
Nate said, after I told him about the e-mail, said, “That sounds like a great e-mail to me!” I said, “Why?” He said, “Because Daddy never just gives in like that.” Or something along those lines. Yeah, I know. And given that the e-mail was sent… a week after the hearing. I’m not sure what all that means. Bullshit probably.
The new counselor did tell me that Jeff had missed his initial appointment and as of that time, had not called to reschedule… being in contempt of the agreement that we both call within 48 hours of the hearing to schedule our appointments and the Court’s insistence that we all attend each and every counseling session as scheduled.
The counselor asked if I thought Jeff would be compliant with the Court’s order and I said, “Only if you don’t ask him to seek treament for his alcoholism and don’t tell him that he’s wrong about anything.”
I’m not lying. I don’t have to lie. The truth is bad enough. I’m contemplating writing a want ad in the paper to trade houses with someone who wants to live here and I’ll go live where they live, and we’ll owner sell our places to each other for the mortgage payoff, so long as they are similar. LOL! Impossible dreams are my forte.