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| Off Balance |
| 11.30.04 (8:43 am) [edit] |
I am totally off balance today. I woke up this morning thirsty and slightly high still. I am not a smoker but last night as we sat in our empty apartment talking about love and relationships I had an itch and Cruzando scratched it. He talks a lot when he’s high. He’s not as reserved and much more outspoken about his feelings. I just soaked it in. Sometimes I’d jump in but I let him lead the conversation. It was just easier that way. Though I can’t recall clearly what it was we talked about I do remember just watching him. After thirteen years of knowing him its still slightly weird how well we balance each other. I told him if we were straight we’d be the perfect couple. We understand each other without having to peel back any layers.
He talks to me when sanity is lost and I just feel like drowning. He is my reality check. I trust him with my thoughts and my emotions. He knows when to cradle them and when to give them a shake. I really hope that I give that back to him. I know we can be really crass with each other. Not most people talk to each other the way we do but that’s who we are. I confess that I have this edge. Sometimes I don’t watch what I say before I say it and then when it’s said I want to take it back. I forget how to be aware of my surroundings and other people’s feelings.
I am also wearing four different colors of clothes today and didn’t realize it until I got in to work. I have a burgundy shirt with yellow and orange on it, a blue undershirt, thinking it would match my blue sports coat and red scarf around my neck. But I am warm so I don’t care. At least I have white socks on (yes it makes sense to me ok).
I am also playing this new game called Killzone that my brother got me. I am addicted. I didn’t even finish my other game. I think I am going to get another television so I can play in my room and not hog the living room one. Cause I will if they let me just so I can play a war hero trying to save another world from the evil Helghat soldiers.
I think I am insane sometimes. I really do.
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| So much to do So little time |
| 11.29.04 (12:14 pm) [edit] |
So the dinner was a blast. Cruzando’s stuffed chiles and chicken were excellent. The mood was light. Everyone was in a good mood. There weren’t any strangers so the conversation was steady (well at least while the entrée’s were being served). They say it’s a good thing when the conversation stops once the food is served. Of course we went through ten bottles of wine but to be fair there were around 13 of us so it’s about right.
At one point someone commented on the seating. How all the girls were on one end and all the men were on the other and then there was me. I sat at the end with the boys so I could help get the plates out of the kitchen. “It’s ok you are always doing your own thing anyway.” I smile. I take a look around and I think it is funny because it was not intentional and if no one had said anything I wouldn’t have even noticed. Once dinner was over we moved the table to make room for everyone to sit in the living room. Some paired off here and the rest went to go smoke out back. I sat on the couch with my imaginary date. (All right so I was making fun of all the couples but when I have I not. I am slightly bitter ok?) It was funny but only cause I looked like a crazy butterball fool sitting there licking the air. Needless to say the ladies stayed but this time they brought their toothbrushes (Hmmmm have we acquired two extra roommates?) Just kidding I am proud of them for deciding to stay instead of driving home drunk. They know they are always welcome to crash. In fact anyone is if they are ever on this side and you have my cell phone (USE IT).
Yesterday we began the move into our new place. We are excited and overwhelmed and tired. We got all the big things placed into the new apartment yesterday. So we are half way here and half way there. The current place is in shambles but we plan on packing as much of it tonight as we can. The first is the official move in date and if things go as planned we’ll be in there and out of the old place by this weekend. There is so much to do!
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to some changes in my life. With the new year coming and this year being the way it has been. It will be a relief to feel like there is a chance to really start over.
To Do’s
-Make an HONEST attempt to stop drinking
-Start eating healthier
-Stop eating spicy food
-Start exercising
-Stop watching so much TV
-Start writing more
-Start being more aware of the things I say to others
-Stop putting myself down
-Dance and sing out loud (this really makes me happy and I’ve stopped doing it)
-Meet new people
-Get out of the house more
-Buy some new clothes (so I can stop wearing all my roommate’s T-shirts)
-Put on some heels and some make-up for the fuck of it (good one huh?)
-Stop being so moody and over-emotional (dramatic as some would call it)
-Spend more time with my family
-Try to help my brother not go down the same path I have
To Don’ts
-DO NOT make any excuses as to why the above should not happen.
Disclaimer: Any modifications to this list may be added or deleted as I see fit. Any modifications to my body is not because I want to LOOK like a superstar it’s more about my health and well being.
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| Dinner Take 1 |
| 11.27.04 (12:51 pm) [edit] |
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It's 3:00pm and the house smells of butter, roasted chiles, cranberries and I am drinking my beer while the boys clean out the sink. I of course BBQ'd the chiles so we could stuff them with somethin somethin later. We planned a dinner here at the house for after Thanksgiving. Since I wasn't going to not be at my house. We are cooking dinner for some of our closest friends. It's a way of saying "thank you" for allowing us to be a prt of you and vice versa. (T I really wish you were here but I know you are out playing in your yard with tools and giggling like a school girl. That and you are in South Carolina and you can't just drive here. Tools are HOT by the way.)
Alicia Keys was playing on the TV cause one of my roommates bought me the making of her concert "The Diary of Alicia Keys" (HOT). Now Usher is talking about the red light and the one night "In and out and I'm out the door". I am happy it feels like we're falling into place. VaNative is crashed out on the couch. I officially have three husbands this week. We start moving into our new place tomorrow after taking VaNative to the airport. Oh and by the way he has moved to California (San Diego). So we'll be seeing him again real soon. I'm not too sure what I want to write about right this minute. I know that my Thanksgiving was one of the better ones. My mom tried not to cry and today I am spending with some of my closest friends. I'm excited for the simplest reasons.
I hope everyone had a good holiday......
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| It's Here |
| 11.24.04 (9:17 am) [edit] |
You can feel it. There are layers upon layers of emotions. The cold is nipping at your nose. The air is crisp. The leaves are shades of red, yellow and orange. This morning I came in and the office was buzzing with people talking about recipes and what they’ll be doing tomorrow and who was cooking and who wasn’t. I sat there and listened to them yak away at the front of my desk. Usually it’s annoying because they aren’t talking about anything at all but not today. I just listened there was a genuine feeling looming everywhere. The office smells like rosemary and lavender. One of the co-workers brought some in for everyone to take home. Last night as I was waiting to get picked up from my class at the BART station I noticed that across the street there were people putting lights up on their windows. There was a teenager who was running in and out of the apartment building telling the adult inside to lift there and pull it the other way. It made me happy. I forgot for a second how cold it was outside. It reminded me of my sister and my parents.
I haven’t been in the best of moods. I hate going to my class on Tuesdays. Yesterday it was so bad that the thought of sitting in that room for more than an hour nearly put me in tears. I know it seems a bit much but I am telling the truth. I wanted to cry. I get really, really over emotional during the holidays. I don’t know what it is or what triggers it but the slightest things will make me get teary eyed. I think it comes with age. It brings back memories.
During Thanksgiving when I was in the military I would crave being home and eating my mom’s mashed potatoes. I would crave my mom yelling at my sister for sticking her hands into everything before it was done ”I am just making sure it’s seasoned right.” She would say before giggling and running away. Since I couldn’t have that we’d cook dinner ourselves. All of us away from home. Away from the people we love and loved us back. We’d all wake up and get together at someone’s house and begin the cooking. Someone would burn something. Someone would try to tell the other how to make it. Someone would yell to get out of the kitchen. Someone (usually me and the guys) would be drinking Bud Light outside in the fold out chairs cause I was always getting kicked out of the kitchen for taste testing everything. Christmas was the same.
Now that I’m out I miss that. I often think of the people in the service during this time and wonder if they are spending it alone or whether or not they have somewhere to go for a home cooked meal. I miss providing the idea and having everyone come along for the ride. “If we’re gonna be away from home for the holidays we might as well be away together.”
Anyway I saw a story this morning about a mom who cooked her son and his platoon a Thanksgiving dinner and drove it 13 hours to his place of duty. He is leaving for Iraq this weekend. The tears just came. “Damn it *****. You are gonna have to stop reading the news this month. Probably next month too.” There is something that really consumes me during the Holidays. It’s a culmination of things. It’s melancholy and happiness. It’s compassion and selfishness. It’s so many things. So many feelings. Today I found out that my mom will be able to eat tomorrow. As long as she eats light foods. I want to sit here and cry. It’s the simple things that we take for granted. Though the situation is hard I am glad that there is something there to remind me that there is a lot to be thankful for this year.
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| Fantasizing + Stamping |
| 11.22.04 (1:29 pm) [edit] |
So fantasizing about sex while you are labeling and stamping the company's new strategist mailing is not such a great idea. I hope they don't notice the crooked stamps at the end of the pile. It's a good thing I snapped out of it before I started putting them on there upside down........
It would really make it worth while if I posted what I was thinking about but I am not going to go there. I have a vivid imagination. I am a writer after all.
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| I know she is.... |
| 11.22.04 (1:02 pm) [edit] |
I know she’s watching me. I caught her again today. I’m not good at knowing when some one is watching me. Especially if that someone is always walking by and doing dumb things to make me laugh. Especially if that someone is straight. Someone said my name as I was sitting at my desk. So I get up and poke my head around the curtain to see what was going on. They were talking about time cards and getting paid on Wed vs. Friday.
I’m standing there with my hands in my pockets and he turns to me and says “Right (Insert my name here)?”
“Yeah sure you’re the boss,” I say smiling.
“No really I’m just trying to make sure I am giving them the right information,” he says back.
“Yeah he’s right just make sure to turn in all the time cards before the end of the day today and if you aren’t going to be here a full day tomorrow put that on there as well,” I say back.
“See cause she’s the man,” he says.
“Uhm I’m not a man,” I say kicking his chair.
Everyone there is laughing and I look at her. I always look to see what’s going on. She’s looking at me through her glasses and then she smiles and turns away. She was watching me in the “Hmmm I wonder” kind of way. The only reason I recognize the look is cause it’s happened a lot in my life. I’m not reading into it. I think it’s cute in that weird kind of self-punishment way. Cause you know nothing will ever come of it but I know when I see what I see. She is definitely looking at me.
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| You want me to what? |
| 11.20.04 (11:31 am) [edit] |
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I had to work last night at the local bar. I had really forgetten what it was like to work 15 hour days since I hadn't been to work since my vacation and my mom's surgery. I need the money so I sucked it up. It was good seeing all the familiar faces. In a way it was good to leave my shit at the door and get wrapped in work, the music and the crowd. Last night was no different than the other nights. Except that there was a regular whom I hadn't seen since before my vacation. He hugged me hello and gave me the usual kiss on the cheek. We caught up briefly and I excused myself, there were glasses to pick up after all.
Later on in the night and after many more drinks for him he grabbed me as I was walking by. He literally lifted me off the ground with his hug and cracked my back. Can I just tell you that this morning I am not walking right. My back hurts like hell. I tell my roommmates that it wasn't like I was having back breaking sex to which they answered "yeah we know you aren't." I should have known better than to go near him considering earlier on in the night he comes up to me and this is how the conversation went:
"Is that a dildo in your pocket or are you just happy to see me," he says as he rubs his back side into my crotch.
I laugh and push him off me a little, "You aren't going to find anything you like down there."
"I'm serious. I think I want you to to use a strap-on on me," he says as he looks me squarely in eye.
"Yeah I am going to have to think about that one," I say. I wasn't sure if he was joking with me or not. My gut tells me that he was on some crazy shit and I looked like Jenna Jameson. In reality I am a Jeanine Garofalo (if you don't know who these people are Google it.) He laughs and give me another hug.
I had forgetten about him for at least an hour before he stumbles back to me and leans against the bar.
"I can see you on a hot neon pink halter top. With lots of cleavage and some high boots. That's fucken hot," he says.
"I'm not sure that will happen in this life time," I tell him. I see the image in my head and it's not a bad one. Maybe if I were twenty pounds lighter.
"No look I don't know if you feel this way but I really think that we exist in this parallel universe and that's what I see when I see you. Maybe it was another life but I really think you should think about it," once again he flashes me his gay boy smile.
He is not a bad looking guy. In fact he's really handsome and strong and built and what the hell am I saying he said he wanted me to use a dildo on him? He's good friends with my gay crush who I have gotten to dance behind the bar even when he said he wouldn't.
I told my roommates this morning and while one laughed the other one has a hot pink dildo picked out for me he even asked me what size. Cruzando uses the term "fucken hot" and "I really think you should do it". I can't wait until next week so I can ask him if he remembers what we talked about.
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| They Make me Lie |
| 11.19.04 (12:50 pm) [edit] |
I realized today that everyone here at work has made me lie at one point or another. I mean when I answer the phone in that office way and they ask for someone I say “sure hold on just a second.”
“***** you have a call from *****,” I let them know before transferring.
“Oh I don’t feel like talking to them put them in my voicemail,” comes the return.
“Ok,” I click back over. “I’m sorry he/she is on the other line would you like to leave a voicemail?”
I have been working here for a two years. This would explain why I have NO LUCK with anything. Because I am constantly not telling the truth. Good things don’t come to liars. Why am I getting a conscious about it now??? TWO years. Shit that’s a long time. Five days a week for eight hours a day (not including paid holidays, sick days and vacations). Oh but let me make it clear that it doesn’t happen just once a day. No, no my little ones. It happens at least four or five times! Jesus I’m never gonna get a break. I need to find a new job.
Any suggestions???
Oh and someone please tell the sex kitten to stop flirting with me in her straight way. It drives me insane.
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| No Thanksgiving??? |
| 11.18.04 (9:39 am) [edit] |
So last night was my brother’s birthday. In light of my mother’s condition and the fact that he is really depressed it was difficult to get him to come out to have a drink on his day. (Yes booze makes everything better sometimes). Anyway it started off a little difficult. He wanted to take my sister and invite his boys out to have a drink. It was a school night and we had to beg our dad to please let her come out (he’s against having her out on a school night, we used my brother’s birthday as an excuse). Yes she’s 17 but we were raised by an old school hand.
We get to the restaurant Trader Vic’s over by the Emeryville Marina. If you have not gone to this little hidden away get away it is EXCELLENT. A little on the pricey side but it was his birthday and it’s the one place he would agree too. Money wasn’t an issue. Fuck it. It comes and goes anyway. My roommate helped with half of the bill it was our treat. We munched on appetizers and really, really good rum drinks.(I recommend the Suffering Bastard go figure it would be my favorite). My sister is a goof ball and we talked and told jokes and gave each other a hard time as always. We sang happy birthday and decided to go to the apartment to hang out. My sister drove us home (how funny is that).
During dinner we tumbled over conversations about my mom and Thanksgiving dinner (it had to be discussed at some point). My grandfather passed away a year ago on Saturday. In catholic tradition they do a church ceremony to celebrate the anniversary. My mom is determined she is going to the church. I have to talk to my aunt to see if their great aunt couldn’t do something at my house in the morning with her so that she wouldn’t feel like she missed the ceremony. She can’t go is the bottom line and I know that it saddens her more than anything right now. It’s not like she can get up and drive to the church. I told them that we can’t save her from the sadness because we don’t know what it’s like to be in her shoes. We can only try to ask if they would be willing to do that.
Then I brought up Thanksgiving. I was thinking that we could do what we did last year and have the family over since my mom couldn’t go anywhere. If you’ve been reading that long the younger girls and I cooked dinner for my dad and the husband’s of my aunts while the women were away. They were attending my grandfather’s funeral and we were trying to remind everyone else that there was a lot to be thankful for even in moments of grief.
“Dad said we should just get a bucket of KFC and not invite anyone over,” Brother 1 says.
“What? I’m not doing that,” I say. He kinda just shrugs.
“I think we should do something,” Brother 2 says.
“What do you think?” I ask my sister.
“Are you guys forgetting that she can’t eat anything?” she answers.
We all get quiet and I look into my half empty glass. It wasn’t that I forgot. It’s that I wanted her to be surrounded by the people that love her. She was right though. She would lay in her bed while we cooked and she would want to be walking around helping. Maybe she’d cry when we weren’t looking, maybe she wouldn’t.
“Well can’t we go get her something that she can drink? Like a milkshake?” Brother 1 says.
“She can’t have diary products,” my sister says.
I am filled with a sudden sadness that there wouldn’t be a Thanksgiving this year. Everyone just kind of sits there without speaking for a minute or two.
“I just don’t think it would be right,” my sister says.
“Well look let’s not dwell on it right now. We’ll figure something out,” I wanted to change the subject and not ruin the reason we were all there in the first place.
So we continue to slam rum drinks and move on to other things. It’s on all our minds though. I am determined to figure something out to help both situations out. At the apartment my brother continues to drink Vodka and my roommate is really buzzed from the rum’s.
“I’m a three drink whore tonight,” (J) says laughing.
“Yeah you are. Do you want another one?” I ask.
We are at the apartment my sister is dancing in the kitchen listening to Destiny’s Child. My brother is sitting on the couch half laughing at her and half watching TV. We have one more and then I call it a night. My brother had tried to serve me up another one but I threw it out telling him I had to get up in the morning. (Yeah can you believe that one?)
I noticed the trees are changing colors this morning as we drove down our street. I feel fallen apart but held together all at once. Maybe it’s because I have to be right now. I want to sleep and lay in my warm bed. I want to listen to my music and eat Honey Nut Cheerios until I burst.
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| The Fallen Artist |
| 11.17.04 (12:34 pm) [edit] |
Obviously my life is in shambles right now. I have to deal with lusting for movie stars, my mom’s surgery, seeing someone again for the first time in months, dealing with my brother and his mental break down, living in a cramped space, watching the L word, having to move at the end of this month, having to pay rent again, bills, fines, my DUI class, needing a better job, the anniversary of my grandfather’s death, living with two men, dealing with the smells that come out of the bathroom by my desk (do people eat differently during the winter cause damn?).
Anyway the point was that I told my roommate not to worry about cleaning up my room. My CD’s are unorganized, I have no clean socks, I’m down to the last of my underwear, I haven’t cleaned up the ashes from my incense or straightened out the sheets on my bed, my sweaters are half hanging off their hangers, my closet is half full of dirty laundry, I lost one of my slippers and have no clue where it is (I’ve been looking for a week now), I haven’t made my bed in over a month, my purple bear and my little monkey are laying on the floor instead of on my bed (they have meaning).
“Don’t worry about my room,” I say.
“I don’t mind doing it,” he says.
“No you might as well leave it it’s a representation of my life right now,” I answer.
“Whoa the life of a fallen artist,” he answers.
“I am not an artist but I’ll take it anyway since it’s so dramatic,” I answer back.
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| Its 12:45am |
| 11.15.04 (10:30 pm) [edit] |
It's 12:30am and here I am. She called me to tell me that her daughter asked about the "gay" issue. I felt my heart drop. Why does it matter what she knows? I asked her three times if she said anything about me. I don't want her daughter to see me that way. I am more than who I sleep with. It does matter to me. She let me go because she said that I was "trippin". I've known the little one since she was three. In her mind I am her mom's best friend. In her eyes she doesn't know anything about our past. Until today I didn't know that it mattered that much to me. She also called at a moment when I was feeling really raw about my emotions.
We were watching the end of the L Word. We cheered, got sad, yelled “don’t do it” at the screen, drooled during those moments, laughed, rolled our eyes, I must have covered my eyes at least three times, forgot to breathe during the sex scenes and then got sad again.
There was a scene where there was a painful attraction between one of the main characters and a co-worker.
“What is that? Where does that come from?,” he says as they give into their lust. He sighs. I sigh and we just sit there on the couch.
I want to know what that feels like again. There is an intensity that I am missing. I want to touch it. She holds me in the palm of her hand because she reminds me of what it feels like to be loved in that way. When you catch your breath at the thought. When being in the same room and not being able to touch her the way you want to could drive you insane. When the look in your eyes is thick enough to cut with a knife. When the kiss sets off this fire from within. It’s insatiable. I know people that are with someone because it's what they know. It's all they need. Love in itself is an intense, amazing, passionate series of moments that make you feel whole.
I don't know what that is anymore....even though I understand it. I can write about. I can read about it. I can watch it and be bitter about it but I don't know what that is anymore. I need it all. If I could have moments of complete surrender over the comfort of just having someone I would rather suffer those moments. It's not about filling the void. It's not about the lust (because we all know I have a very high lust drive). It's about the touch that leaves you breathless and hungry and empty. It's about the words that you whisper in the moment.
Tonight I'll lay in my bed and think of how empty it is. I'll wonder when and if I'll know it again.
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| There is a Lesbian in my bed |
| 11.15.04 (2:18 pm) [edit] |
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Last night we decided to cook dinner. It was supposed to be a small intimate gathering of maybe six of us. It turned out to be eleven of us. (J) slaved in the kitchen for an hour prepping the lasagna. Getting irritated with me when I asked if I could help or trying to tell him that he needed more sauce. It's a control thing people. Eventually I just sat down and let him do the work. He obviously didn't want me in the kitchen. Cruzando had worked all weekend and he was going to pick up the wine (bad idea).
Soon our guests arrived and dinner was served. (J) makes some damned good lasagna. That yum melt in your mouth cause the meat sauce is really good lasagna. Dinner was a hit (of course). Everyone was in a good mood. Not that it was planned but the American Music Awards was on last night (did you people see Alicia Keys?) I think it was the only time there was silence in the whole house. Gay or not everyone was watching. I want her for Christmas and Jennifer Beals for New Years (I'm asking for a lot huh?)I made the mistake of mixing beer and wine. J, The Sex Kitten and I stayed up until way too late drinking way too much. I think we finally hit the rack at about one in the morning. I dont know why I keep doing this to myself but last night considering there was this sexy girl who came to visit me I didn't care, it was worth it.
We sat on the couch and caught up. I hadn't seen her in months. She showed up to the house with a huge bow on herself. (A gift for me? No...story of my life). Her and J had shared an inside joke and she thought it would be cute to complete the joke. I was jealous but that's neither here nor there. At some point I got way too drunk. L Pimp and Raz stayed in Cruzando's room since they drank too much and didn't want to drive (smart girls!). I went to bed happy cause there was warmth next to me. In my moment of the happiness I totally forgot that I had fallen asleep close to the edge of the bed. In the morning when the alarm went off and I reached for it I fell off my bed. Crash. I was confused because I had never done that before. (I'm going to remind everyone that my bed is really high off the ground so it was not pretty). I could here her laughing. I really did try to be smooth about it and told her that I was turning off the alarm. She didn't buy it.
Cruzando came home later and walks into my room "There is a lesbian in my bed."
To which J says, "There were two of them in there earlier."
Classic moments I tell you.
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| My Imaginary Penis |
| 11.12.04 (8:18 am) [edit] |
A female reader on The Superficial.com wrote:
I love Christina Aguilera. She makes my imaginary penis very happy. However, as much as I would love to hump Miss Aguilera repeatedly, sometimes I wonder what the hell she is thinking.
This particular post is not about Miss Aguilera it’s about how brilliant I think the imaginary penis is! Why didn’t I think of that??? Maybe with my age I’ve just gotten rusty. Though I am sure at some point in my life I have thought it. I should have written it down somewhere. It’s a classic. Especially since I know so many of you ladies will never admit that the thought has crossed your mind. Not that I want a penis. I think they are funny looking but I have met a few that have said that they’d want one even if it’s only for a day.
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| In the Hospital |
| 11.11.04 (12:03 pm) [edit] |
My mom is in the hospital and I am cold. It feels empty inside. Everything is fuzzy because I don’t know how to feel. I don’t like not knowing which way my emotions are going to go. I was too busy being angry with her on Sunday to ask her if she was feeling all right, even if she did look a little pale and swollen. It’s not life threatening but it’s enough for them to have to operate.
So I’m sitting here waiting. My dad hasn’t gotten home from work yet so he doesn’t know. My sister had to leave him a note on the fridge. I don’t know how he’s going to react but because he’s my father and he is a passionate man he won’t change out of his work clothes and head straight for the hospital to get some answers. He’ll think the worst on his drive there and forget that he hasn’t eaten breakfast or lunch. He’ll blame himself for not caring enough to notice. When you love someone you’re supposed to notice things like that. He’ll take a deep breath after talking to the doctor and run his hand over the scar from his surgery.
My sister called me and she told me not to freak out but that something was wrong. She tells me and her voice shakes a little at the end.
“Hey are you o.k?” I ask.
“I don’t know when I first got here I was scared but right now I don’t know.” She said quietly.
I thought back to a year ago this month how when my grandfather died she waited until everyone was calm to go to her room to cry alone. She’s like me. I don’t want to go to the hospital because I can stay strong if I stay away. I know that the minute my sisters brown eyes meet mine I’ll want to hold her. Protect her. I know that my brother won’t have the reaction that I want him to have and I’ll get pissed at him for being so angry. Only to comfort him later after he binges on a liter of vodka and he’s crying about why he thinks he’s such a bad son. He waits until it’s too much to explode. He snapped after our good friend passed away. He wasn’t right for months. Anxiety attacks. Panic attacks. Drinking binges. He is like me. I know that if my other brother is there he’ll have this sovereign look on his face and want to hug me and tell me that I’ll be fine and I’ll want to slap him and tell him “Hey asshole it’s happening to you too.” He is like me.
So I’m here waiting. Hoping that she’ll be all right. Wishing that I was there at her side holding her old hand. I would notice the chipped fingernail polish (it's never not chipped) and tease her about it. She’d smile at me and tell me to go find a doctor to marry. I’d become even more sad and wish it were me in her place even if we don’t get along I’d be thinking I know you better than you know yourself old lady. I’d have to let her hand go because I wouldn’t want her to see me cry.
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| The lighting made me think |
| 11.11.04 (10:33 am) [edit] |
We went out last night for what was supposed to be dinner and a drink. We met up with some friends and the damned bar had that two for one drink special again. Before we go up I casually say,
“You know we aren’t gonna leave anytime soon right?”
He asks me what I am talking about and I point at the two for one sign. We had issues on Sunday with the two for one and we didn’t get home until almost one the next morning. He tells me not to worry and that we’d leave early enough. It was around 7:30pm. I shrug and walk up anyway. I was full from dinner and sleepy from the night before (we drank two bottles of wine and watched the L word until 2 in the morning). He orders us a round and I really, really baby my beer for the first hour. Warm beer is awful. Then they arrive and go order us another round and since it’s two for one we’ve all got at least two drinks and there are lots of bottles and glasses to empty all of a sudden. They hang their coats on my chair and play pool. I like to watch them play pool. I am seated across from them watching the Real World/Road Rules challenge while hip-hop plays in the background. Occasionally I would glimpse my reflection in the mirror. I did it three times before I just sat there and looked at myself.
The lighting made my face a little sharper not so round. I know what they mean now when they talk about the lighting. I laugh at myself and glimpse over to wear everyone was watching the eight ball sink. I had to get up to use the restroom. I was washing my hands and doing a hair check when once again I noticed myself. I look up at the lights but the lighting in here was like regular lighting. It can’t be the lighting this time. My face is strangely appealing and maybe it was the moment or because I was extremely tired but I thought, “Hmm you are kinda cute huh?” Then just as quickly, “You’re trippin.” The next hour was spent pondering how I’m really not that unattractive. I mean I have curves and granted those curves hinder me from fitting into low-cut jeans but they are there. I wear t-shirts and jeans because it’s comfortable but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to pick a purse or pick out a cute ass outfit for someone else to wear. I shave my legs even when I’m not getting laid. I love my long hair but I don’t like it in my face so I wear it in a pony-tail. I am round around the midsection because I like beer and food and don’t believe in diets anymore.
So anyway I’m blabbing the point is that the lighting made me look a little closer. So all you hotties that keep passing me up or you straight girls who wonder about me cause I can see it in your eyes beware. I am gaining power and I’m liking it.
To you: if you ever decide to come back to me do it now cause you know they may start lining up and I may not look back.
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| No More L Word |
| 11.10.04 (1:42 pm) [edit] |
My head hurts from thinking about all the sex I want to have with Jennifer Beals. I want to do it on an airplane, in the closet, on the conference table (hot), under the conference table, in the bed, on the couch, on the kitchen counter, on the kitchen table (hot), in all the public bathrooms (dirty I know but have you seen this woman?), in backseat of limo, in the back seat of any car (who am I kidding), in the hot tub, in a swimming pool, at the movie theatres, in church in a confessional booth (hot), against the wall in a dark alley, on the dance floor, in a tent, on the beach, in the ocean, on the living room floor, on a chair, in a strip club (hot), on a roof, in the white house, in the Playboy mansion, in a graveyard (sick I know), in a cheap hotel room, in the shower (hot).
I mean really the list can get longer. I knew she was cute and I knew that I found her attractive back when it all started but it’s crazy now. She is just gorgeous. I can’t concentrate on the story line when all I want to see is her naked!
I told Cruzando that I can’t finish watching the season anymore because I just can’t take it. So what does he do when I go visit him during lunch?
“Hey let’s watch the Teaser for Season 2!”
“Didn’t I just tell you I can’t take anymore?” I say while getting up to go look anyway.
I almost fainted. My knees got week and I screamed like a girl in a candy store. I have to get Showtime. I don’t know if it’s cause she’s older or cause she wears the best suits or the way she gets undressed or the way her hair falls or her lips and her eyes and her smile or cause I know she’d look delicious in the morning after a long night of affairs.
I’m so screwed.
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| Where have you been |
| 11.09.04 (2:21 pm) [edit] |
I haven’t really had the inspiration to write lately. Sometimes I have to hang up the gloves to get that feeling back. I never created this page so that I felt like I HAD to write. It’s more about writing something down for me. Whether it amuses the reader or makes someone think or it’s just me clicking away on the keyboard cause I need to get something out. For me writing is a source of release. Good and bad.
There has been a lot that’s happened in the last couple days. I have a third roommate now. I am living with two men. I don’t think I realized how many more issues I was going to have. Men are men. Women are women. No matter which way you try to turn it. I don’t like things messy or unkept. I don’t expect to have to ask help with cleaning the house. Especially in shared spaces. I’ve always lived with at least one other female. Now the tables are turned and there are things that I’m not sure are going to go over with me. Of course I think it’s because we are in a small space for now. I know I’m going to come off as bossy or even (everyone take a deep breath) a bitch. It’s about adjustment and I know that. I just have to get used to it. I have to remind myself to just communicate.
There is always the issue with my mother who is NOT happy with me living with my current roommates. She knows one is gay. I am assuming she thinks the other one is too. To understand my mother if she could she would put all the gays on one island and light fire to them one by one. So it’s officially put a strain on our already fucked up relationship. One because I don’t want to hear what she has to “not” say about anything. Two because it oozes from her when she asks me how I am; wanting to ask me more. Wanting to be mean and say more. When you know someone you almost wish they would say something. You wish they would push you to that edge. She makes me feel like I shouldn’t have been born. Like if she could send me back and ask for a refund she would. In so many ways I almost want her to pull that trigger.
I guess the time off has given me more time to really think about things. Like going to dentist, getting a California ID (I still use my expired military ID), trying to fix things with the DMV to try to get my license back, going for a check-up with a regular doctor. Finding peace of mind is not an easy thing. You have to really take a look at yourself. I am contemplative yes but I don’t really see. I can’t explain it any better than that.
I’m in a quiet place right now. I need balance. Cruzando, J and I went to go look at an apartment this afternoon. It’s really close to work. It’s big and spacious. The one thing is that the master bedroom is huge and it’s got it’s own bathroom. Perfect almost. In the sense that’s its cheap and within our budget and it’s got a yard. I want the big room and no one is arguing. Except that Cruzando knows where I am at and he tries to pull me away from it. I sense him doing it.
“You are just going to become more reclusive. You’ll put a TV in there and you have your Playstation. All you’d need is a mini fridge and you’d have your own house back there,” he tells me. “I know that it’s my only reason for fighting for that room.”
I hope we get it. I cannot make any promises to them as my roommates that I wouldn’t spend time alone back there. That I won’t go out and get a cheap ass TV and make my own little comfort zone. That my bathroom won’t be cleaner or smell better. O.k I want this place damn it. Because it has a yard and we can have summer tea parties.
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| Nov 3rd 2004 |
| 11.03.04 (9:45 am) [edit] |
Good morning America. If that’s what you want to continue to call it. I’m depressed. I voted for the first time in 27 years. I voted and it didn’t matter. The Midwest rules our nation. Living in California I think makes me forget how close-minded people are. What about progression? Instead we are living in a nation that is versus change. Who would have thunk that little ol’ me would be depressed by such a loss.
Most of my co-workers are hung over. Even after vowing not to watch the updates we all were glued. The air is thick today. I can only think that Bush will learn to take care of our nation’s interests instead of his own.
Last night my roommate and I had distinct (blurry cause I was drunk) conversations. We talked about vices and moving to Europe. I really like talking to him even if he is one sided sometimes. It’s good to always here the other side of the spectrum. This morning I woke up sick as a dog. (not hung over sick). I have a sore throat, a fever, a cold sore on my lip, my body aches and the runs. Go figure. I took some cough suppressant at work and now I am high as a kite. That’s good stuff whatever it is that’s in it.
In our conversation I also realized that I don’t like when people point out other people’s problems. The alcohol thing obviously is a sore spot with me. You can’t judge someone for what they do or the mistakes they make. It’s their choice to do what they do. I don’t like when people tell me not to drink. Don’t tell me what to do.(not that he was I am just saying it) I am fully aware of my problem. I take responsibility for my decisions. In the long run do I know the damage it can cause me? Yeah. I’ve hit bottom with the bottle once already. I don’t intend to let it control me like that again. It bothers me that anyone will label someone as soon as they have a drink in their hand. Are you that different? Are you better than me cause you don’t do it that often? Are you more in control cause you only do it on the weekends or at a party? Does it make you feel better when you say that you don’t drink but you’re getting high everyday? Is it that more acceptable for you? Fuck that. Think about it before labeling anything.
At this point in my life I am an anti-social alcoholic. I’d rather sit at home with a 12 pack and watch movies than deal with people’s bullshit. I haven’t always been this way. I love people. There are amazing people that I have met along my little life span. People intrigue me but that’s all I’m left with and it’s not enough. I have become an introvert. I got tired of being the extrovert. I got tired of everyone pointing out my insecurities. I got tired of people telling me how to act. I got tired of people telling me I should be this way or that way. I get tired of thinking about how I’m not exactly a part of anything anymore. I fill a space. I pay rent. I work. I laugh. I eat. I sleep. I am human. I am allowed to change and grow in what ever direction I need to to make me happy. Because unlike most that’s all I want.
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| Fudgeface and Me |
| 11.02.04 (12:46 pm) [edit] |
I’m back. I thought my creative juices would have been overflowing by now but it’s a slow start to slow morning. I flew in last night at 11pm. Got home at midnight and went to bed as soon as I got in. I had missed my bed and the smell of our place. I feel bad cause Cruzando waited up for me but I didn’t have the energy. Have I mentioned how much I hate flying? Last night we flew right into a thunderstorm I should have taken Fudgeface’s advice and stopped at the liquor store.
Where do I begin? Perhaps at the beginning? That always seems like a good place to start. I packed my luggage on Monday. I put my phone on the charger and I was drinking a couple of Bud Lights before the flight while I played my PS2 game. I have a habit of jumping onto my bed when answering my phone while it charges. Normal people I’m sure walk around the bed calmly to answer the damned thing. Not me, I like doing the Superman across my bed while reaching for the phone. So when the phone rang I automatically jumped off of my couch and proceeded to do the Superman into my bed when SMACK into the suitcase. I think I lay there for about five seconds watching the stars before I realized the fucken phone was still ringing.
“Damn it that better be her,” I said outloud.
I tell her my story and she laughs for a little bit. I should have known then that I was going to be doing a lot of laughing. The whole trip was relaxing. I will share that Fudgeface and I talk almost every day because of the random shit that seems to happen constantly in our lives. So being around her in person and being able to laugh with her instead of over the phone was worth it. There is something about someone who has the same sense of humor as you do. Also I am in love with her son. He looks like the little Gerber baby, curly light brown hair, big brown eyes, long eyelashes, the biggest grin and he’s cuddly and cute. All babies are of course. I tried to teach him how to say my name but I gave in when he said “hey” instead. That’s close enough right?
Damn o.k so where do I start cause really I laughed my ass off all week.
We spent the first two days in the house. Relaxing and watching TV. I was in no hurry to do anything. Neither was she. Which was perfect.
Friday we prepared for the road trip to Atlanta. She had gotten free pit tickets to the Busch race at the Atlanta speedway. We packed the dog and the kid into the car and off we went. I’m not going to be descriptive with what we talked about because it was mostly non sense however we did reach a corner stone in our relationship when she realized how much of an idiot I really can be. I was minding my business and singing along loudly to some song on the radio when she says “jackasses”. I look to my right and there was a confederate flag on a big piece of land.
“I wonder if they own all that land?” I asked casually.
“Well you know I don’t know the donkey’s personally but it’s possible,” she says calmly.
At this point I am confused and have obviously missed something along the way. I didn’t see the FUCKEN donkeys ok??? I swear I thought she was talking about the people with the flag. I mean really who calls donkeys jackasses anyway? They are DONKEYS!
She looses it and starts talking through giggles and convulsions asking me “What the fuck do donkey’s have to do with owning land?”
“YOU didn’t say donkey’s YOU said jackasses and I thought you were talking about the owners of the land!” I yelled back.
At this point please understand we are about two hours into the trip without any real stops and the giggles have taken over. We snorted and she swerved for about 10 minutes. I told her that she needed to pull over cause we were going to get in a crash. I think it was one of those moments that you just had to be a part of to really get but none the less it started the rest off the weekend that’s for sure. So along the way she decided to point out all the animals that were on the farms. Smart-ass.
Saturday morning we are up before the sun. (I am going to interject here that it was HUMID as hell and that her mom lives on a farm with lots of ANIMALS. I was on Claritin and Tylenol allergies for 5 days). Anyway we were up at dawn and on our way to the Busch races. I don’t watch Nascar. I kept calling Earnhardt Jr. “Earl”. I didn’t know and they found this amusing. Anyway we get to the pits and start to walk around. Having VIP passes is not all that it’s cut out to be. We couldn’t find any decent food stands or souvenir shops in the garage/pit area. Apparently our Pit passes were no good if we wanted to get into the seating area. We walked around for the first three hours trying to figure out if we could get in through the main gate instead. At some point I had decided stop to get a free gift for signing onto a new credit card (which I falsified to get her a fold out chair to sit on). In the process of doing this Miss Smart Ass wanted to sit under the shade and accidentally put her little purse in a pile of caca. Which she then accidentally brushed up against her khaki pants. I waited until she wasn’t pissed to call her shit pants. One point for me baby……at least she laughed and didn’t try to wipe it on me.
So along we went to the front gate we thought they were going to turn us away yet again oh but she was determined and since it was 1130 am and we were both hungry and thirsty we managed to convince one of the ticket hands that they told us we could go through the main gate. Fudgeface was not taking no for an answer. In we went. It was loud and crowded. The adventure does not end. My little friend is pregnant and had to tinkle.
“Wait here I have to go to the bathroom,” she said and ran off.
Unbeknown to her she wandered her cute ass right into the men’s room. What happened after that was the funniest shit I have even seen in my life. Apparently she didn’t notice the picture above the door that said “Men’s”. She comes back out of there looking thoroughly confused. The guys at the ice cream stand are laughing their asses off as they point up at the sign and she just puts her hand up in a “how” kind of fashion and runs back over to where I am standing. Oh yeah. Two for me baby. I laughed so hard and she yelled at me for not pointing out that it was a men’s room. She snorted right along with me. Then said she REALLY needed to find a women’s room.
“I swear I didn’t know. I saw the urinals thinking it was a sink!” she said. “Then this guy is standing there looking at me and I was like “oh no this muthafucka is NOT in the women’s bathroom” but then I saw the second guy staring at me and I just ran out!”
“What the fuck T******. Did you think you were in France with the fancy sinks or something??” I ask her.
“You shut the hell up for not telling it was a men’s room,” she says laughing at herself.
It does not stop there because that would be too easy. We go to try to get pictures of some of the driver’s for her step dad. He had been with us the whole time but he was a kid in a candy store running around taking picture of car’s and drivers and everything else in between. We go to stand by this gate and some guy tells us that we can’t stand there because “ice trucks” came through it. Now mind you we had been there ALL day at this point and not ONCE had we seen an “ice truck” but we oblige them. When we move back one of the guys in his country voice says to my little tinker bell in his country red-neck accent “You can’t stand by that gate but you can some beads.” He then christens her with some silver Mardi Gras beads. She just kind of looks at him and half smiles saying thank you and politely takes them from him. He grins kinda goofy like while sneaking a peak at her backside. I am sitting there just shaking my head.
“I need to sit down,” she says finally. Obviously fed up with the day. She walks over to the grassy hill that over looks the driver’s trailers. She is sitting there minding her business and I sit on the golf carts right behind her. We are waiting for her step dad to finish snapping away with his camera. The next thing you know Mr. Mardi Gras himself makes his way over to where she is sitting and plants himself right behind her. She kind of glimpses back and looks confused. I am laughing almost tempted to get up and go rescue her from her fate. She’s quick on the draw and before he can say anything she gets up, wipes herself off and walks back to where I am. Three for me and we are spent!
The rest of the trip was pretty much like that on and off. Laugh here laugh there. We sang off key and ate A LOT of candy. I am over the sweet phase. She is totally out of control. I missed her and it was good seeing her. On the way to the airport yesterday we had another moment and just laughed pretty much all the way to the airport. I thought she was gonna lose her bladder in the car which only made everything worse. I almost missed my plane but it was worth it.
I’m glad to be home. I’m in a more creative mood. This post was long and there is a lot more to write about but I’ll end it here. Those were the highlights. Oh and she has never cussed at me but this week I think she called me every name possible. Jerk.
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