I just watched Catch and Release, and I think it merits a note on grief, sex, comfort and rebounds. Now, as you, dear reader, may or not know, the premise of the movie is that her fiancee died on his bachelor party trip and she moves in with his best friends for comfort and affordability. Well, she finds out a lot of things about him she didn't know and falls for one of them. I'm trying to spoil it as little as possible.
Here's the valuable fact about pain: When in pain, we seek comfort. We seek relief of that pain, even if the relief is temporary. In fact, as many of us know, "rebounding" or getting right back into a relationship at the painful terminus of another can often be disastrous... similarly, people who seem to elicit a feeling you want to call "love" in times of great stress can often turn out to be impossible to live with in the day to day of things. The great monotony wears down the exciting to the everyday and you can't remember what you were so crazy about nor figure out where it went. Here is where my "peculiar" approach to relationships wins out... I don't keep them long enough to get worn out in the day to day. Well, except John, and we all know I don't miss him.
What I'm trying to say is, if you're hurting really, really badly, the kind of grief that no amount of booze can fix, the kind that no sympathy or prayers can give you peace from, the kind that would make you take a million sleeping pills if you weren't terrified of the dreams, the kind that makes you want the world to go away, you will seek comfort, you will seek relief, in any form, however brief. And physical intimacy is a comfort, it is a relief. At its most base, it is a distraction. A distraction you'd Thank God for in this case. Any time away from that pain. Any time you can pretend it didn't happen... like that moment when you first wake up, before the reality of cold, harsh daylight seeps in, when you've forgotten the tragedy ever occurs and you reach for the person you love, the person you're sure was there a moment ago, the moment before you remember that they're not, that they never will be there again, ever. That's the best moment of the day. Sex works the same way... for a moment, you're somewhere else, and you're not hurting and you're not thinking, and it's ok, and then.... you come crashing back down to earth and reality and the tragedy hits you like it's brand-new, like a sucker punch. Anyone who can comfort you in these times of great need, who can understand your need for distraction, your need for relief, your need to forget for at least a moment, and above all, your need for silence and your need to talk... that person will elicit very strong feelings. You will, of course, greatly appreciate their help in your coming to terms with things, their aid to your recovery, because without them you may not have made it to recovery at all. You'll get all the warm fuzzies appropriate to feel when someone is so generous, so kind, and so understanding of your needs, even if they're only incidentally understanding, kind, and generous. Perhaps you've just found yourself a brooder... someone who's naturally silent and somnolent and physically attentive. Quite likely, this person would make you crazy in the everyday of things... "What do you want for dinner, honey?" "...." "What're you thinking?" "...."
I say this from experience. In times of pain, I have turned to men with the personality of rocks because they understood what I told them to do and I didn't have to tell them some things, they just reacted on instinct. When a drunk girl is hysterical, grief-stricken and wearing a short skirt and climbs into your arms and tells you to shut up and hold her, well, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure things out. In fact, a rocket scientist would probably over-analyze the situation and try to come to a solution and I'd probably get frustrated knowing damn well there is no solution, just a temporary relief from the painful healing process.
When you're hurt, you take pain killers. When the pain killers wear off, you feel the pain again. Most doctors prescribe enough of them that you won't notice the pain until whatever hurt is completely healed. We cannot so completely medicate grief, but we make our attempts. I'm sure that at some point in your life, like mine, you've complained of a pain somewhere and some idiot offered to hurt another part of your body so that you wouldn't notice the original complaint.... distraction. We distract, we self-medicate, we comfort ourselves. It is right, it is natural, and it is ok. Just don't mistake the pain killers for anti-depressants. Well, don't mistake the pain killers for a better life. People die that way. The same goes for sex as a pain killer... don't mistake it for love. You don't love the Vicodin, you don't love the Percocet, you don't love Steve and you don't love James. They are pain killers. Valuable distinction. But easily missed.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Sunday, July 1, 2007
There is a delay...
Between my brain and my mouth, between my brain and my fingers especially, and between my typing and it appearing on your screen. Currently, it's about 16 hours. My internet connection blows. What can I say? I'm a lazy, inconsiderate bitch. I type in TextEdit, and eventually when the connection works and I get around to it, I paste it in here and I post it. At which point you can read it. Tada...
So I adopted some Army boys. You know me, support our troops...one at a time. I found Any Soldier where they send mail to people who don't get any mail. Everyone should get mail. Apparently, it is actually illegal just to write "Any Soldier" on the package... but if you send it to one of the Any Soldier volunteers, and put their name on the package, they will give it to someone who needs mail. Whatever. So it said they wanted movies, books and candy. I have movies, books and candy. Stuck it in a box and mailed it to Iraq. Should get there sometime this month. Maybe. If ever. But, here's the interesting part... there are so many things you can't send! Now, me, being a modern woman, and friends with a lot of people who consider themselves "troops" I would think that what they Really want is booze, porn and sausages. Apparently hot sauce is popular too. But you can't send booze, porn and sausages!!! Fucking tragic... poor men are going out there and might die for our stupid, idiotic country and supportive folks like me can't even send them some whiskey and penthouse to make it feel better for a while. I would send it too. I mean, if you haven't seen your wife in two years... you get a little frustrated. Men whose jobs involve guns don't need to be frustrated.
There's a lot of thunder outside. There's been a fair amount of it since yesterday but it doesn't seem to be doing much. Apparently, in other places it is more serious. Their thunder is followed by lightening and flash flooding. Ours is just mumbling about politics and religion. Trying to get someone to listen to it's point of view, I'm sure.
So I found Jessie! She called me last night. Finally. And is supposed to call me again today. We'll see. She was surprised to find that I haven't changed a bit. I, personally, did not expect me to change because I rather like me the way I am. She is in Oklahoma, like we thought. And she's working because when I called her back she was in the 'middle of shift change,' Other than that I don't know much. We're going to call Sarah soon. I told her, I can put people on three-way from here and it doesn't cost me any more than it regularly costs to call sarah which is next to nothing. I should do that with you, Melissa, if you'd ever stay up past 10.
Now, it's raining. Which means the mailman won't show up until long after I'm gone. Pooh. I like the mailman. Well, I should clarify, I don't actually give a shit about the man himself, I like Mail. I'm always expecting mail these days and it's wonderful.
I just got a note from Karissa in Tahoe and pictures of her baby. Which is great because it gives me Karissa's address and it has her baby's name... which I always forget because she just calls her Baby half the time. She says, "yeah, me and Baby are going to the doctor tomorrow" Not me and Perla, me and baby... how'm I supposed to remember if she doesn't use it??
So I adopted some Army boys. You know me, support our troops...one at a time. I found Any Soldier where they send mail to people who don't get any mail. Everyone should get mail. Apparently, it is actually illegal just to write "Any Soldier" on the package... but if you send it to one of the Any Soldier volunteers, and put their name on the package, they will give it to someone who needs mail. Whatever. So it said they wanted movies, books and candy. I have movies, books and candy. Stuck it in a box and mailed it to Iraq. Should get there sometime this month. Maybe. If ever. But, here's the interesting part... there are so many things you can't send! Now, me, being a modern woman, and friends with a lot of people who consider themselves "troops" I would think that what they Really want is booze, porn and sausages. Apparently hot sauce is popular too. But you can't send booze, porn and sausages!!! Fucking tragic... poor men are going out there and might die for our stupid, idiotic country and supportive folks like me can't even send them some whiskey and penthouse to make it feel better for a while. I would send it too. I mean, if you haven't seen your wife in two years... you get a little frustrated. Men whose jobs involve guns don't need to be frustrated.
There's a lot of thunder outside. There's been a fair amount of it since yesterday but it doesn't seem to be doing much. Apparently, in other places it is more serious. Their thunder is followed by lightening and flash flooding. Ours is just mumbling about politics and religion. Trying to get someone to listen to it's point of view, I'm sure.
So I found Jessie! She called me last night. Finally. And is supposed to call me again today. We'll see. She was surprised to find that I haven't changed a bit. I, personally, did not expect me to change because I rather like me the way I am. She is in Oklahoma, like we thought. And she's working because when I called her back she was in the 'middle of shift change,' Other than that I don't know much. We're going to call Sarah soon. I told her, I can put people on three-way from here and it doesn't cost me any more than it regularly costs to call sarah which is next to nothing. I should do that with you, Melissa, if you'd ever stay up past 10.
Now, it's raining. Which means the mailman won't show up until long after I'm gone. Pooh. I like the mailman. Well, I should clarify, I don't actually give a shit about the man himself, I like Mail. I'm always expecting mail these days and it's wonderful.
I just got a note from Karissa in Tahoe and pictures of her baby. Which is great because it gives me Karissa's address and it has her baby's name... which I always forget because she just calls her Baby half the time. She says, "yeah, me and Baby are going to the doctor tomorrow" Not me and Perla, me and baby... how'm I supposed to remember if she doesn't use it??
Friday, June 29, 2007
Is my problem delusion or dilution?
I missed my interview yesterday. Because I'm obviously an idiot. I slept right through the interview time, despite Megadeth on the alarm clock. I couldn't sleep all night, but apparently I could sleep all morning. I need a second job. Right now, I might be looking at needing a first job. I just found out something disheartening... once I make it to the six month barrier I've been waiting for, health insurance is going to cost me over $100/pay period. If I had that much money, I wouldn't need the insurance, I'd just pay the doctor. Apparently, my company does not pay jack shit for health insurance and all the cost is on the patient, me. It's good insurance, but that doesn't help, now does it? One of the two reasons I stay here has just evaporated, making me feel helpless and futile and frustrated. The other reason is that I need a block of time on my resume. That reason has not evaporated. But is my resume worth this? I've been cut for tomorrow. At the last minute. Again. And it feels fucking awful. It feels useless and hopeless and scared. I don't like it. I need a paycheck, a decent sized one. Otherwise I'm just digging myself a hole I can't climb out of. And no resume is worth that.
I'm exhausted. I fell asleep on the line for a minute tonight. Yes, we were that slow, and yes I was that drained. It was a blood donor day. So I'm gonna cut this short.
1) Gonna try interview again tomorrow, pretend bad calendar.
2) Need more money.
3) No time to sleep but nothing getting done.
4) Seriously concerned about Eddie's intentions. Now he's willing to pick me up at work on his days off, calls me, wants to come over and wants to buy me things. These are not good signs. I was really hoping I'd found a nice old man, but despite the fact that he has made no advances, I'm afraid dissapointment is emminent. He may well turn out to be just another creepy old man. I would like to hope for the best, but I have to fear the worst.
That's all, I'm tired.
-amelia
I'm exhausted. I fell asleep on the line for a minute tonight. Yes, we were that slow, and yes I was that drained. It was a blood donor day. So I'm gonna cut this short.
1) Gonna try interview again tomorrow, pretend bad calendar.
2) Need more money.
3) No time to sleep but nothing getting done.
4) Seriously concerned about Eddie's intentions. Now he's willing to pick me up at work on his days off, calls me, wants to come over and wants to buy me things. These are not good signs. I was really hoping I'd found a nice old man, but despite the fact that he has made no advances, I'm afraid dissapointment is emminent. He may well turn out to be just another creepy old man. I would like to hope for the best, but I have to fear the worst.
That's all, I'm tired.
-amelia
Monday, June 25, 2007
I didn't sleep at all last night
Or many other nights this week. I don't know why really. I just never seem to get around to it. I'm not so tired. You would think I'd be more tired. But I keep finding things to do. Not the things I should be doing, like house-cleaning. But other things for sure... I've knitted a lot of coasters, sent a lot of e-mails, watched some really bad TV. A couple of actual ink and pen letters... and on book!
So I was coming back from my Sunday knitting group with Isabel when we spotted a table on the side of the road marked Free Books. And it was covered in books. Being Bibliophiles, we stopped. Good books, Advance Reader copies, which means stilll in need of editing and pre-srelease. I found a lovely book called " Never Hit A Jellyfish With A Spade". I'm nearly through it and I can't stop laughing. I also have "HOw I Became Stupid" - one man's journey to renounce his own intelligence in an attempt to see if ignorance really is bliss. I'm curious.
I met Jodi, who I really like. Makes sense, she's an AutoCAD designer and god knows I know computer nerds. She seems like fun though, and I hope to get to know her bettter. It feels good to make a new friend. I think that might be what I needed. Oh, and BIG NEWS, I found Jessie! Sarah is gonna be so excited when I tell her tonight.
I've finished my coasters for the coaster swap and a few extras to send out to other peole. I think they're neat. And super easy.
I've also discovered a number of new websites... Couchsurfing Project - in which you loan/ boroow an unocccupied couch while passing through a city. There's already high demand for my couch. Amazingly, most people in New Orleans are not willing to open their homes like they're not willing to volunteer. Big shock, huh? I'm sorry, but I've spent enough time on other people's couches and invited enough people to stay on mine that I feel that this is only an extension. It's goodwill through big velvet couches. And like I always say, you're never going to make new friends if you don't talk to strangers. We all know I talk to strangers constantly.
As well as Warm The World, a charity for "children without families" and soldiers and their families. The neat thing about this charity is all you have to supply is the knitting. They pay for shipping and even send you yarn to do projects. Most recently, I discovered bookcrossings.com, where people leave marked books places in hopes that someone else will pick them up and read them. Fascinating... again, not popular here in New Orleans. Selfish bastards.
Y'all know me, generous and involved. I know it's uncommon in the godforsaken stagnant pool I find myself in now, but I am me and I refuse to be an asshole just because I'm surrounded by them. Personally, I found a family rebuilding their own house around the corner, and I'm going to bring them drinks next time I see them. I'm poor today.
My camera battery is dead, dead, dead. And I have no money to replace it. And I've discovered that I get some kind of bizarre delay when trying to write in the post editor on this site, so from now on, I'm typing them when my computer goes down and only pasting them into the editor from plain text.
I cancelled the phone and the cable today... replaced by Vonage and Blockbuster online. I save $60/month and a lot of nagging myself about how I'm going to pay for it and why I'm paying for things I don't need/can't afford.
I'm on a hunt for old friends and new ones. And I have an interview for a second job tomorrow morning. If it works, I will be babysitting seniors overnight. Yep, that's right, I sit in the house in case they need anything, or get up, and I can knit and work on my German and I get paid. It doesn't pay a lot, but I just need a little extra to get through the summer months. And it's almost like charity work. I don't mind old people, I'm related to a couple. Speaking of which, my new friend Jodi goes to Tennessee every couple of months and the next time she does it, I'm going to go with her and surprise my Aunt Flo. Perhaps I shouldn't send this package to her, just hold onto it and give it to her when I go? I think so. She'll be very surprised.
The One Brick folks are coming out again at the end of the month and I'm gonna look for a ride again, maybe someone to crash on the couch again. Right now, my priority is to get enough spare dough to fly to Melissa's in August, work on this kid's scarf project and knit a cookie monster sweater for a munchkin. I think that I can use the teal mohair for Sarah's kid and still have enough of the fur to use the baby blue for Karissa's kid. I may not have Sarah's done in time for the end of winter in her neck of the woods, though. It's winter there now. But Karissa's in Nevada and she doesn't need a sweater anytime soon. I know that as soon as I finish this, I will think of something fascinating to say, like, oh, I don't know, I just rented the entire Red Dwarf series from Blockbuster. If you've never seen Red Dwarf, you're missing out. It's British slapstick sci-fi at it's best. I adore it. My ex-boyfriend Kent got me hooked on it way back when in high school watching marathons and telethons on public television. Well, the publis television stations everywhere else in the country apparently don't know about it, but I do and I'm renting it and loaning it to Jodi because she's gonna fucking love it. Why is it that I can't gather people to save my life but I always know exactly what they'd like for gifts or meals?? I can never tell if they'll get along with eachother. A lot of times I think it's because I like strong, individual and unusual people and those people either love or hate eachother. Somehow everyone seems to respect that I have friends they don't like, they just won't come to my parties because they might be there. I also can't get many people to come to my house. I think that might have something to do with the fact that deep down I am a private person and a poor housekeeper. I'm working on the housekeeping. And I know lots of other people who can get people to come to their houses and they're much worse housekeepers than me. At least nothing in my house is moldy or smells... it's just disorganized and cluttered.
That's all for today. I have to change over the laundry, take out the trash and paint my toenails. Before I work on MORE housework.... god, I hate housework.
So I was coming back from my Sunday knitting group with Isabel when we spotted a table on the side of the road marked Free Books. And it was covered in books. Being Bibliophiles, we stopped. Good books, Advance Reader copies, which means stilll in need of editing and pre-srelease. I found a lovely book called " Never Hit A Jellyfish With A Spade". I'm nearly through it and I can't stop laughing. I also have "HOw I Became Stupid" - one man's journey to renounce his own intelligence in an attempt to see if ignorance really is bliss. I'm curious.
I met Jodi, who I really like. Makes sense, she's an AutoCAD designer and god knows I know computer nerds. She seems like fun though, and I hope to get to know her bettter. It feels good to make a new friend. I think that might be what I needed. Oh, and BIG NEWS, I found Jessie! Sarah is gonna be so excited when I tell her tonight.
I've finished my coasters for the coaster swap and a few extras to send out to other peole. I think they're neat. And super easy.
I've also discovered a number of new websites... Couchsurfing Project - in which you loan/ boroow an unocccupied couch while passing through a city. There's already high demand for my couch. Amazingly, most people in New Orleans are not willing to open their homes like they're not willing to volunteer. Big shock, huh? I'm sorry, but I've spent enough time on other people's couches and invited enough people to stay on mine that I feel that this is only an extension. It's goodwill through big velvet couches. And like I always say, you're never going to make new friends if you don't talk to strangers. We all know I talk to strangers constantly.
As well as Warm The World, a charity for "children without families" and soldiers and their families. The neat thing about this charity is all you have to supply is the knitting. They pay for shipping and even send you yarn to do projects. Most recently, I discovered bookcrossings.com, where people leave marked books places in hopes that someone else will pick them up and read them. Fascinating... again, not popular here in New Orleans. Selfish bastards.
Y'all know me, generous and involved. I know it's uncommon in the godforsaken stagnant pool I find myself in now, but I am me and I refuse to be an asshole just because I'm surrounded by them. Personally, I found a family rebuilding their own house around the corner, and I'm going to bring them drinks next time I see them. I'm poor today.
My camera battery is dead, dead, dead. And I have no money to replace it. And I've discovered that I get some kind of bizarre delay when trying to write in the post editor on this site, so from now on, I'm typing them when my computer goes down and only pasting them into the editor from plain text.
I cancelled the phone and the cable today... replaced by Vonage and Blockbuster online. I save $60/month and a lot of nagging myself about how I'm going to pay for it and why I'm paying for things I don't need/can't afford.
I'm on a hunt for old friends and new ones. And I have an interview for a second job tomorrow morning. If it works, I will be babysitting seniors overnight. Yep, that's right, I sit in the house in case they need anything, or get up, and I can knit and work on my German and I get paid. It doesn't pay a lot, but I just need a little extra to get through the summer months. And it's almost like charity work. I don't mind old people, I'm related to a couple. Speaking of which, my new friend Jodi goes to Tennessee every couple of months and the next time she does it, I'm going to go with her and surprise my Aunt Flo. Perhaps I shouldn't send this package to her, just hold onto it and give it to her when I go? I think so. She'll be very surprised.
The One Brick folks are coming out again at the end of the month and I'm gonna look for a ride again, maybe someone to crash on the couch again. Right now, my priority is to get enough spare dough to fly to Melissa's in August, work on this kid's scarf project and knit a cookie monster sweater for a munchkin. I think that I can use the teal mohair for Sarah's kid and still have enough of the fur to use the baby blue for Karissa's kid. I may not have Sarah's done in time for the end of winter in her neck of the woods, though. It's winter there now. But Karissa's in Nevada and she doesn't need a sweater anytime soon. I know that as soon as I finish this, I will think of something fascinating to say, like, oh, I don't know, I just rented the entire Red Dwarf series from Blockbuster. If you've never seen Red Dwarf, you're missing out. It's British slapstick sci-fi at it's best. I adore it. My ex-boyfriend Kent got me hooked on it way back when in high school watching marathons and telethons on public television. Well, the publis television stations everywhere else in the country apparently don't know about it, but I do and I'm renting it and loaning it to Jodi because she's gonna fucking love it. Why is it that I can't gather people to save my life but I always know exactly what they'd like for gifts or meals?? I can never tell if they'll get along with eachother. A lot of times I think it's because I like strong, individual and unusual people and those people either love or hate eachother. Somehow everyone seems to respect that I have friends they don't like, they just won't come to my parties because they might be there. I also can't get many people to come to my house. I think that might have something to do with the fact that deep down I am a private person and a poor housekeeper. I'm working on the housekeeping. And I know lots of other people who can get people to come to their houses and they're much worse housekeepers than me. At least nothing in my house is moldy or smells... it's just disorganized and cluttered.
That's all for today. I have to change over the laundry, take out the trash and paint my toenails. Before I work on MORE housework.... god, I hate housework.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Losing Faith
Or whatever I had left Not sure if faith is an accurate description. So I found my Sarah. Thankful for that. She's well and healthy, if as grumpy as ever. She's in Australia of all places, married with two stepchildren and a child just now(!) and an entire menagerie. She has ducks, chickens, and a rottweiler that must be tucked in at night. I'm glad to hear she's doing alright. I miss her. And I'm switching my phone service to Vonage so that I can call her. It won't be entirely reliable, not Vonage's fault, my internet connection's fault, but I can accept that since I get to call Sarah in Australia for one cent a minute. It will keep the phone bill under control at least.
My house is covered in manila envelopes. Most of them going, a few coming, I am on a mail spree like no other and even I can't quite keep up with it. Due to swap=bot and my recent knitting excess, I have many things to mail to many people. There are packages to London, France, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, California and Georgia sitting here now. There will be more.. to Texas, Nevada, South Dakota and more I expect soon enough. The postage alone will bury my poor budget. But I feel alone all of a sudden. In a world of friends where I can't be away from the phone or the e-mail too long, I feel alone. I feel lost. And I feel... grossly misplaced and without a ticket home. I feel like home has stretched it's borders so far that it doesn't even exist anymore. And it's awful. I've been on a binge to contact old friends. On reunion.com, on classmates, digging through piles of people I barely met looking for Zach and Tina, and Jonique and Jessie... trying to remember Chris and Eric's last names! I want them all back right now. I want us all in one place like we could be one happy family even though I know it's not possible. They wouldn't all get along for one, for two, the tickets alone would make Donald Trump blush. But that's what I want. I still don't have friends here... there's Jen of course, but that's about it... some people at work I talk to, who barely know my name, and Isabel, my knitting friend. John keeps calling and I keep trying to get him to leave me alone.
I want something new, someone with whom I can go over all the old ground like I'll find some new answers. I want out of this town, and I want out now. Not next year. I want out of my job. I'm miserable and it shows. It's 3:30 am and all I can think about is that I have to iron and I don't want to iron. I fucking hate ironing and it's fucking pointless. I want to believe that there are still people out there that I'll like. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just need something completely different. Maybe I just need to get laid. All I know is that I can't keep going like this. I'm in a hole and I'm just digging deeper. There's no good outcome here. The sooner I get out the better. But of course, I have obligations... Mom and Jeanna are coming, I want to go to Melissa's, Emmy and Ross are coming, I want to go see Spot... Maybe I can blow some of those off... but there's pending litigation against my former landlord, there's a volunteer group at the end of July... I feel trapped. I want out. I want out now. And I don't know how to get out and still live up to my obligations. I can't just blow them all off. I can't. So what do I do?? Sit here and rot.
I need health insurance. I need money. I need a plan. I don't have any of those. Ok, so I contacted a woman I met online who says she actually makes her living doing surveys online. I gave her my sad, sad underpaid story and begged for help in the most polite terms I know. And I also told her that I was not trying to offend or be nosy, but if I bothered her to just forget I asked. These silly girl conventions, you know.. apologizing when you've done nothing wrong.. And I'm going to call Chris Brown at the Sheraton about something part-time and I'm going to do everything in my power to make more money. But it's not gonna come fast enough and soon enough, I'll be up shit creek without a paddle. Remind me please to dig up the number for my credit card protection companies and call them... if ever there was a time for emergency payments... I want out of here but I'm going to have to make it through the end of the year. After that, I'm running like the devil's on my tail. I wish I could find something with flexible hours like a real work at home job. Sucks. I'm gonna pay some bills now, do some ironing and look for a job. Hope you're having a better day than me. I even bought myself hawaiian shirt and flip-flop salt and pepper shakers.. can't cheer me up...
My house is covered in manila envelopes. Most of them going, a few coming, I am on a mail spree like no other and even I can't quite keep up with it. Due to swap=bot and my recent knitting excess, I have many things to mail to many people. There are packages to London, France, Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, California and Georgia sitting here now. There will be more.. to Texas, Nevada, South Dakota and more I expect soon enough. The postage alone will bury my poor budget. But I feel alone all of a sudden. In a world of friends where I can't be away from the phone or the e-mail too long, I feel alone. I feel lost. And I feel... grossly misplaced and without a ticket home. I feel like home has stretched it's borders so far that it doesn't even exist anymore. And it's awful. I've been on a binge to contact old friends. On reunion.com, on classmates, digging through piles of people I barely met looking for Zach and Tina, and Jonique and Jessie... trying to remember Chris and Eric's last names! I want them all back right now. I want us all in one place like we could be one happy family even though I know it's not possible. They wouldn't all get along for one, for two, the tickets alone would make Donald Trump blush. But that's what I want. I still don't have friends here... there's Jen of course, but that's about it... some people at work I talk to, who barely know my name, and Isabel, my knitting friend. John keeps calling and I keep trying to get him to leave me alone.
I want something new, someone with whom I can go over all the old ground like I'll find some new answers. I want out of this town, and I want out now. Not next year. I want out of my job. I'm miserable and it shows. It's 3:30 am and all I can think about is that I have to iron and I don't want to iron. I fucking hate ironing and it's fucking pointless. I want to believe that there are still people out there that I'll like. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just need something completely different. Maybe I just need to get laid. All I know is that I can't keep going like this. I'm in a hole and I'm just digging deeper. There's no good outcome here. The sooner I get out the better. But of course, I have obligations... Mom and Jeanna are coming, I want to go to Melissa's, Emmy and Ross are coming, I want to go see Spot... Maybe I can blow some of those off... but there's pending litigation against my former landlord, there's a volunteer group at the end of July... I feel trapped. I want out. I want out now. And I don't know how to get out and still live up to my obligations. I can't just blow them all off. I can't. So what do I do?? Sit here and rot.
I need health insurance. I need money. I need a plan. I don't have any of those. Ok, so I contacted a woman I met online who says she actually makes her living doing surveys online. I gave her my sad, sad underpaid story and begged for help in the most polite terms I know. And I also told her that I was not trying to offend or be nosy, but if I bothered her to just forget I asked. These silly girl conventions, you know.. apologizing when you've done nothing wrong.. And I'm going to call Chris Brown at the Sheraton about something part-time and I'm going to do everything in my power to make more money. But it's not gonna come fast enough and soon enough, I'll be up shit creek without a paddle. Remind me please to dig up the number for my credit card protection companies and call them... if ever there was a time for emergency payments... I want out of here but I'm going to have to make it through the end of the year. After that, I'm running like the devil's on my tail. I wish I could find something with flexible hours like a real work at home job. Sucks. I'm gonna pay some bills now, do some ironing and look for a job. Hope you're having a better day than me. I even bought myself hawaiian shirt and flip-flop salt and pepper shakers.. can't cheer me up...
Sunday, June 10, 2007
My normal, and why it varies from, say, your normal
Life is getting back to normal here. That does not neccessarily mean peace and quiet... It means that my house is a shameful disaster area and I have one million things to do, but am instead sitting here writing this blog. Or perhaps righting this blog as I have wronged it with my absences. The fact of the matter is, I've been lethargic lately and my internet connection has been acting up between 1-3am which is, of course, when I need it most. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it....
So the house is a mess, I'm so broke I owe broke money, and I can't seem to get up off my ass to do anything about anything. But, on the plus side, I now have Eddy. Eddy is a security guard for a firm near Lee Circle and obviously very bored. I see him every night on my way home and I always say hi. He asked me the other night why he hasn't seen me in a while and I told him, I had taken a break from walking due to being mugged. He drove me home and has insisted on doing so since. I have my reservations... he seems to be a very sweet personable man who is just being friendly... I hope this is the case. Let's just say, there is no such thing as a free lunch. While I'm more than happy to bring Eddy cookies or something for his kindness, I worry that at some point, he will imply that I owe him something. Eddy is not my type... I think he has children older than me. Let's just all hope that I'm my paranoid-schauvanist mother's daughter.
So my friend Emi has been dragging me to all her pet websites with friend invites... nevermind that Emi has, apparently and from all accounts, much more time to devote to such things. And that Emi and I don't talk very often because she goes to sleep by the time I come home from work. She and her husband have been very good to me and I count them as dear friends. They are also fun to spend time with. First, it was Tagged, the most juvenile networking site I've been associated with since Bolt if Bolt even still exists since that was 5 years ago. Maybe more than 5. Now it's Goodreads. I'm all for goodreads, as it's about books, and I like books. But it does seem a bit silly to have a website about books... the one is not the equal of the other... That one, I've dragged my friend Melisssa to. And now, I'll grant you a widget so you can see what I'm up to there...
My reviews.
In other news, after days of attempts, I defeated the internet connection and managed to upload these pictures of my son, his cake, and us together. There is also a picture of my friend and her 3 year old. I must say it's a great picture of them. That is all for now... I have coasters to knit and a house to CLEAN. Really, I mean, when I can't stand the mess anymore, it's BAD.
So the house is a mess, I'm so broke I owe broke money, and I can't seem to get up off my ass to do anything about anything. But, on the plus side, I now have Eddy. Eddy is a security guard for a firm near Lee Circle and obviously very bored. I see him every night on my way home and I always say hi. He asked me the other night why he hasn't seen me in a while and I told him, I had taken a break from walking due to being mugged. He drove me home and has insisted on doing so since. I have my reservations... he seems to be a very sweet personable man who is just being friendly... I hope this is the case. Let's just say, there is no such thing as a free lunch. While I'm more than happy to bring Eddy cookies or something for his kindness, I worry that at some point, he will imply that I owe him something. Eddy is not my type... I think he has children older than me. Let's just all hope that I'm my paranoid-schauvanist mother's daughter.
So my friend Emi has been dragging me to all her pet websites with friend invites... nevermind that Emi has, apparently and from all accounts, much more time to devote to such things. And that Emi and I don't talk very often because she goes to sleep by the time I come home from work. She and her husband have been very good to me and I count them as dear friends. They are also fun to spend time with. First, it was Tagged, the most juvenile networking site I've been associated with since Bolt if Bolt even still exists since that was 5 years ago. Maybe more than 5. Now it's Goodreads. I'm all for goodreads, as it's about books, and I like books. But it does seem a bit silly to have a website about books... the one is not the equal of the other... That one, I've dragged my friend Melisssa to. And now, I'll grant you a widget so you can see what I'm up to there...
My reviews.In other news, after days of attempts, I defeated the internet connection and managed to upload these pictures of my son, his cake, and us together. There is also a picture of my friend and her 3 year old. I must say it's a great picture of them. That is all for now... I have coasters to knit and a house to CLEAN. Really, I mean, when I can't stand the mess anymore, it's BAD.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
A Long, Strange Trip
May not have seemed very long to you folks, but that's because you probably stop and sleep every night. What a waste of time. So, to begin at the end... I'm still processing. I received a very sharp blow to my very large ego near the end of the trip and then it was lifted again. Not sure where that leaves it... So I was staying at Emmy and Morgan's house... a house packed full of friends, a crazy lady and one stranger. That would be TJ, from Indiana. The stranger, not the crazy lady. Don't know how he ended up there, but that's not the point. He's largely considered a git and not in a good way. But I had permission (I love those guys, they insist on saying yes, no, or passible to every person of the male persuasion I come across...he was rated passible), and well, I was drunk and bored, so I said, hey, why not? If I could count the number of times those three words have led to shaking my poor hung-over head I would have to invent a new number. Well, he'd been remotely friendly, and had, at the very beginning, invited me to sleep in his bed. This remark started quite a few laughs. So, 2 hours before I had to leave the state for another year, I climbed out of the shower and into his bed. I asked, the offer was still good. Yeah, what did he do? He climbed out. Drunk, naked me delivered straight to his bed and he has the gall to climb out?!?! What the hell was that? I asked him when we were leaving, Where di you go? His reply was, "When a naked woman I've BARELY MET climbs in my bed, my reaction is to throw the blanket over her and move. Besides, when you got here you asked if I would be in the bed and I said no." In his defense, the last part is true. I, having not fallen off a turnip truck yesterday, did indeed ask when he said I could sleep in his bed if he would be in it. I just don't remember him ever giving a direct answer. Nor did I expect him to live up to it!! I don't know what they do to you in Indiana for such an offense, but I believe that in California, they reposess your dick. Obviously, you don't deserve one. Needless to say, there will be no second chance.
Then, after arriving in San Jose, while sitting innocently at the light rail station trying to decide on breakfast, I was hit on... twice. Of course they were crazy, don't be silly, do I attract anything else? One couldn't figure out what I was talking about when I said I'd give him my number, but it wouldn't do him much good as I live two time zones away. "Oh, in the East Bay," he says. No, not in the East Bay. The Gulf of Mexico. The other offered to buy a ticket right now and come home with me. And flashed enough cash to do it. Yes, he is a "recovering drug dealer/gang member." Apparently, I wasn't quite enthusiastic enough about the idea for him. I just said that it's a free country, he can go anywhere he wants. He was pretty cute, but he seemed to have some baggage and if I lug him across country, he'll probably want me to deal with it.
So, in conclusion, I repelled a git from Indiana and attracted a weirdo and a drug dealer. Sorry, recovering drug dealer. Where does that leave me? Dorian says I should marry a Marine on his way to Germany. They have Marine bases there. He says that then I should leave him and just stay in Germany. I explained that one, marriage is scary, two, Marines can't decide to go to Germany, and three, what if I dissapear on him and he goes all action hero to my rescue?? Could get ugly. Marines are known for imitating action heroes, I believe it's in their job description. I wouldn't put it past them. And again... Marriage is Scary. It's not like there's a dating sight for women who have a fetish for marrying Marines about to go to non-wartorn places like Germany. That's just silly.
The other thing is, I miss home so much. Everybody says I should move back. I want to. That's where the best things and the worst things have happened. That's my highest and lowest place. It's home. It was so nice to have memories on every corner. To know exactly where I was going even when it's 60 miles away. To walk down every road I've walked down a million times before. Somebody came up and asked me for directions and I knew exactly where to send her. It's so comfortable. More than that, the attitudes are the same. I have San Jose opinions and San Jose beliefs. I have a San Jose accent and a San Jose attitude. I understand the locals and they understand me. I didn't stop running the whole time I was there and I was never tired. I didn't want to miss one precious moment. It was an amazing feeling. Home. I've got so many more places I want to see, but I want to go home. I don't usually stay away this long. Usually, I move back every year or so for a while. But this time I haven't. I want to though. I didn't wanna come back so fast.
Christopher is doing GREAT. It's amazing how big and smart and happy he is. I love him so much. I just kept staring at him. I can't believe how fast he's growing. Wow. There will be more about him later, after I get past the Wow. I love him. He loved his presents, the handknit slippers and the Legos and the forest cake. I told him that I don't bring cakes for anyone else... he's so special I work on special cakes and haul them across country just for him. He was impressed.
**UPDATE**: 7/1/07: In fact, there IS a dating site for women who have a fetish for Marines going to non war-torn countries like Germany... it's called Military Singles and it's not the only one. I swear to God I was looking for circular needle sets when I found it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Then, after arriving in San Jose, while sitting innocently at the light rail station trying to decide on breakfast, I was hit on... twice. Of course they were crazy, don't be silly, do I attract anything else? One couldn't figure out what I was talking about when I said I'd give him my number, but it wouldn't do him much good as I live two time zones away. "Oh, in the East Bay," he says. No, not in the East Bay. The Gulf of Mexico. The other offered to buy a ticket right now and come home with me. And flashed enough cash to do it. Yes, he is a "recovering drug dealer/gang member." Apparently, I wasn't quite enthusiastic enough about the idea for him. I just said that it's a free country, he can go anywhere he wants. He was pretty cute, but he seemed to have some baggage and if I lug him across country, he'll probably want me to deal with it.
So, in conclusion, I repelled a git from Indiana and attracted a weirdo and a drug dealer. Sorry, recovering drug dealer. Where does that leave me? Dorian says I should marry a Marine on his way to Germany. They have Marine bases there. He says that then I should leave him and just stay in Germany. I explained that one, marriage is scary, two, Marines can't decide to go to Germany, and three, what if I dissapear on him and he goes all action hero to my rescue?? Could get ugly. Marines are known for imitating action heroes, I believe it's in their job description. I wouldn't put it past them. And again... Marriage is Scary. It's not like there's a dating sight for women who have a fetish for marrying Marines about to go to non-wartorn places like Germany. That's just silly.
The other thing is, I miss home so much. Everybody says I should move back. I want to. That's where the best things and the worst things have happened. That's my highest and lowest place. It's home. It was so nice to have memories on every corner. To know exactly where I was going even when it's 60 miles away. To walk down every road I've walked down a million times before. Somebody came up and asked me for directions and I knew exactly where to send her. It's so comfortable. More than that, the attitudes are the same. I have San Jose opinions and San Jose beliefs. I have a San Jose accent and a San Jose attitude. I understand the locals and they understand me. I didn't stop running the whole time I was there and I was never tired. I didn't want to miss one precious moment. It was an amazing feeling. Home. I've got so many more places I want to see, but I want to go home. I don't usually stay away this long. Usually, I move back every year or so for a while. But this time I haven't. I want to though. I didn't wanna come back so fast.
Christopher is doing GREAT. It's amazing how big and smart and happy he is. I love him so much. I just kept staring at him. I can't believe how fast he's growing. Wow. There will be more about him later, after I get past the Wow. I love him. He loved his presents, the handknit slippers and the Legos and the forest cake. I told him that I don't bring cakes for anyone else... he's so special I work on special cakes and haul them across country just for him. He was impressed.
**UPDATE**: 7/1/07: In fact, there IS a dating site for women who have a fetish for Marines going to non war-torn countries like Germany... it's called Military Singles and it's not the only one. I swear to God I was looking for circular needle sets when I found it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
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