Okay, so here's something...I just sent my brother a facebook message telling him straight up about the way I feel he and his wife disrespect me in front of the kids. Now, before you go, "uh oh...", there's a bit of a lead in -
April 20th, known now to many as national pot smoking day, is my parents' anniversary. This year, it was also Yom Ha'atzma'ut, Israel Independance Day - double bonus. Since I was feeling nostalgic and missing my dad, I posted some pictures and Israeli folk songs on facebook, and I even sent a copy of one of the pictures to my brother, asking him if he knew where or when it was taken. He sent a nice response, telling me what he knew, and added a question about 'where have I been' he hasn't seen me around lately. I took some time and thought about how best to tell him how I feel without placing blame, and to say that I have been thinking about solutions, but I'm just not sure how deep I care to get into it. I thought it was a fair note, and nicely written, and I don't know whether or not to expect a response. So there. I said it. I should put it to rest, at least on my end...
I've been remembering to turn on music while I screw around on the computer, and I've been listening to my Pandora station called 'Robyn Hitchcock Radio', although it plays all kinds of other great stuff, too (Golden Shoulders, Billy Bragg, Smog, Pavement, Radiohead, etc.). Anyway, it was on the other day, and this song I used to listen to back in the early 90's (yeah, way back then) came on, and I lay back on the bed to channel that feeling of being in South Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and my cat, Mr. Spats jumped up next to me and it was just like how Delia (my cat back then) used to, and in my mind I visualized a scarecrow, a Book of Saints, and the work space I'm carving out in what we call the playroom. Then a Syd Barrett song came on, Giggolo Aunt, and I wanted to call the BF I haven't spoken with in weeks out of that burst of playfulness that song reminds me of, of a time...of a time.
It's been really hard to not have him around, and it breaks my heart sometimes, but it really is the right thing for right now. I know without a doubt, I'd be using him as a reason to not be doing my work, and I can not do my work all on my own. I feel terribly isolated, though I still have B who stays in pretty regular touch - and it's actually good to have my mom out of town, I don't like being in the habit of calling her every day, and more than once is just sad! Love ya, mom : ) Facebook's gone crazy with all the weird privacy / application things, it's a time suck, and it generally pisses me off anyway, so I'm trying to stay off there and foster more personal and meaningful relationships in my daily life. Just another baby step in the process...
Which leads me to my point here - how many time do you tell yourself something is 'enough' before it finally is? I feel like I'm waiting for the heart attack, sometimes, you know? Like for a building to fall in, or a flood. I know, I shouldn't even draw the energy to me, but I wonder why I can't just decide to do something and go after it without a piano having to fall on my head? I've been emptying myself out, crying buckets of tears, seeking out sadness to release the gates, to cleanse and purge. If I can't cry for myself, I'll cry for someone else, and then come to the mourning slowly, in an hours long ritual of searching into the void for a clue, for a point of origin. And what do I think will happen in that moment? Awareness? Fulfillment? Contentment? Despair?
'Oh, stop being so dramatic and get over it already!' is what I tell myself, and what I've been trying to get past, for real, and maybe it's working. I feel like I'm uncrumpling after being crushed, and I needed a moment to think about how much that hurt - and then get over it! I still have all the work of writing my way through it, but if I can see past the awareness/fulfillment/contentment/despair and just do what needs doing instead of constantly facing down my own fears, well, then what? Jeez, it's like that Enigma comic, where all the kids committed suicide because Titus Bird wrote those very words! Like Faust #12, and Chapter 13 in A Clockwork Orange...just keep moving forward because there's no way back. So I go look for my own place to call home, while trying not to count all the ways in which I still feel like a teenager.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Year in Review II
Just a few more things to finish the list out, and then on to new endeavors...
Ah, my boy! Could a mama be prouder? The little bugger is just so cute and funny, and full of life and empathy, and creativity, and wonder. What an excellent little creature I get to play slave to! To be fair, I'm a pretty lazy slave, and he's getting to the point of being able to do most things by himself, short of cook or drive, but we're working on that... He's done well in kindergarten, I'm pleased by his enthusiasm for learning (even though he whines about hating homework already, sheesh), and he seems to be socially active within his class. I love all the little things he builds out of K'Nex or Lego, his awesome drawings, and the stories he's starting to write - we had a great time inking and stamping the other night, and he put together a three page story called six guitars which were flying through the sky. I just count my blessings with him, as I try to squish him into a little ball on my lap where he hardly fits anymore (my baby!), and come to terms with his growing being. He still hardly eats, and I worry over his health, but he seems to be growing and developing, even if he is a bit small. He can have a nasty attitude, and speak with such disrespect it's shocking, but I am strict with him, and I can go a bit overboard myself, so I try to take it in stride and see it as a need for improvement in my own communication skills. On the whole, I think we do pretty well with each other, but I have to say the future does look a bit scary! I wish I had more people around and more opportunities to get him together with kids outside of school, as he's got a tendency to talk all day in class to his buddies, and not get his work done. I think we need a more active social life. Not sure what I'm going to do about the Summer, if I'm going to try to send him to camp or anything, but as of now, I'm not working, so...no hurry? We'll see.
I really do need to find a job, though, I can't pay the bills by going back to college! Unemployment isn't enough, obviously, and my child support is good for keeping a positive balance in my checkbook, which leaves my meager saving that I don't really want to start cutting into. The whole point of my going back to school was to be able to do a bit better for myself financially, even though I have no idea how that's going to manifest itself. It still seems completely unbelievable to me that I could make a living with my photos, or my words, or combinations thereof, but I'm beginning to remember what the possibility of that felt like, and I'm letting it lead my process. It's really great to be going to Goddard, and tying up that loose end - and being at the residency was really fun and inspiring, and enlightening. I just love to get all excited about stuff and make connections like that, and I hope to be able to bring some of that spirit to the community I live in, and discover where that can lead me. Who knows, it may lead me right back to Vermont!
It's also mind-blowing to think that 'nexus' (nexus of ecstasy has been the working title for my scribblings for years) may actually see the light of day sometime this decade. That's such a good feeling! My only fear now is that once I get done with it, and I do think there's a good amount of work in it, that I'll be done! Like there won't be anymore! Ha! Ridiculous... I pulled four possible projects out of scrap photos I had left over from test shots and images that just didn't work, and some that just never got finished. I have quite an archive, actually, and I feel lucky to have been smart enough to document the journey, because sometimes, I forget I was there! I get so bogged down in laundry and dishes, and jesus have I ever once DUSTED in 2 years? and what am I gonna do for money will the check clear in time? that I forget to just sit
and light some incense maybe
breathe deeply
and slowly
remember to take
one step at a time
let the mind go
and the spirit flies
behold the possibility.
Gosh, there's still so much to do! It seems like, 'it's been a year, I should be farther along towards my goals', but also, 'look how far I've come in a year!' I wanted to have 'nexus' all typed out in one cohesive form, and I haven't done that, but now it turns out that might not be the way to go with it, and I might be well on my way to discovering the way of it as part of my project for school. So it all works out, still, in the end. Not that it's by any means over, but just a beginning, in the worst, most cliched sense, I'm sorry. Well, in any event, I'm getting back on track with what I meant to do with my life, before I let all the other dumb crap get in the way - and it was all good and fun dumb crap, and I learned alot, and I could have been doing much dumber crap, but it didn't move me ahead any further in the game, and now I have to cram at the last minute for a change. I guess this is the part where I give myself a pep talk about how I did alright this year, but I didn't work up to my level of potential, and I want to see some more improvements in the months ahead, and then we can enjoy an unbeatable season - but I have to remain vigilant, and stick to my training schedule or all is lost before I'm even out of the gate. What the bloody hell am I on about?
I guess all in all, I've had worse years, and I suppose I'll be reliving some of them as I plod through the writings of yesteryear, but maybe it'll help put things in perspective. Perhaps I'll see that I'm not so far off from my goals, that I didn't really get too far off the track, that the uncompromising dedication to writing is, in fact, going to pay off. I see that I'm the same unwavering self I've always been, just not as pretty, and I don't laugh, sing or dance quite as much as I used to - and I want more sleep. Days of it. A week even... Well, it's the weekend now, and it's after noon, so on to the dreaded laundry and grocery shopping chores. Maybe we'll even go to the toy store, because the kid has $40 he's dying to spend on more crap, like he doesn't have enough, and I 'm running out of room to put it all! Really, I want to work in the garden and sip cocktails, but I don't want to spend the money on garden supplies today, and the fridge is close to empty. And the pile of laundry has worn out it's welcome on the living room floor. Ugh. Pry fat ass off of bed, turn off computer, take part in real life activities in real time. Spend time with child. Enjoy life --> GO
Oh yeah - any ideas what I should do with the porn? I had one friend suggest I send it to her, but I don't know what she's planning on doing with it... Is there still a forum in Penthouse? Will they pay for it? Any ideas and suggestions would be welcome!
Ah, my boy! Could a mama be prouder? The little bugger is just so cute and funny, and full of life and empathy, and creativity, and wonder. What an excellent little creature I get to play slave to! To be fair, I'm a pretty lazy slave, and he's getting to the point of being able to do most things by himself, short of cook or drive, but we're working on that... He's done well in kindergarten, I'm pleased by his enthusiasm for learning (even though he whines about hating homework already, sheesh), and he seems to be socially active within his class. I love all the little things he builds out of K'Nex or Lego, his awesome drawings, and the stories he's starting to write - we had a great time inking and stamping the other night, and he put together a three page story called six guitars which were flying through the sky. I just count my blessings with him, as I try to squish him into a little ball on my lap where he hardly fits anymore (my baby!), and come to terms with his growing being. He still hardly eats, and I worry over his health, but he seems to be growing and developing, even if he is a bit small. He can have a nasty attitude, and speak with such disrespect it's shocking, but I am strict with him, and I can go a bit overboard myself, so I try to take it in stride and see it as a need for improvement in my own communication skills. On the whole, I think we do pretty well with each other, but I have to say the future does look a bit scary! I wish I had more people around and more opportunities to get him together with kids outside of school, as he's got a tendency to talk all day in class to his buddies, and not get his work done. I think we need a more active social life. Not sure what I'm going to do about the Summer, if I'm going to try to send him to camp or anything, but as of now, I'm not working, so...no hurry? We'll see.
I really do need to find a job, though, I can't pay the bills by going back to college! Unemployment isn't enough, obviously, and my child support is good for keeping a positive balance in my checkbook, which leaves my meager saving that I don't really want to start cutting into. The whole point of my going back to school was to be able to do a bit better for myself financially, even though I have no idea how that's going to manifest itself. It still seems completely unbelievable to me that I could make a living with my photos, or my words, or combinations thereof, but I'm beginning to remember what the possibility of that felt like, and I'm letting it lead my process. It's really great to be going to Goddard, and tying up that loose end - and being at the residency was really fun and inspiring, and enlightening. I just love to get all excited about stuff and make connections like that, and I hope to be able to bring some of that spirit to the community I live in, and discover where that can lead me. Who knows, it may lead me right back to Vermont!
It's also mind-blowing to think that 'nexus' (nexus of ecstasy has been the working title for my scribblings for years) may actually see the light of day sometime this decade. That's such a good feeling! My only fear now is that once I get done with it, and I do think there's a good amount of work in it, that I'll be done! Like there won't be anymore! Ha! Ridiculous... I pulled four possible projects out of scrap photos I had left over from test shots and images that just didn't work, and some that just never got finished. I have quite an archive, actually, and I feel lucky to have been smart enough to document the journey, because sometimes, I forget I was there! I get so bogged down in laundry and dishes, and jesus have I ever once DUSTED in 2 years? and what am I gonna do for money will the check clear in time? that I forget to just sit
and light some incense maybe
breathe deeply
and slowly
remember to take
one step at a time
let the mind go
and the spirit flies
behold the possibility.
Gosh, there's still so much to do! It seems like, 'it's been a year, I should be farther along towards my goals', but also, 'look how far I've come in a year!' I wanted to have 'nexus' all typed out in one cohesive form, and I haven't done that, but now it turns out that might not be the way to go with it, and I might be well on my way to discovering the way of it as part of my project for school. So it all works out, still, in the end. Not that it's by any means over, but just a beginning, in the worst, most cliched sense, I'm sorry. Well, in any event, I'm getting back on track with what I meant to do with my life, before I let all the other dumb crap get in the way - and it was all good and fun dumb crap, and I learned alot, and I could have been doing much dumber crap, but it didn't move me ahead any further in the game, and now I have to cram at the last minute for a change. I guess this is the part where I give myself a pep talk about how I did alright this year, but I didn't work up to my level of potential, and I want to see some more improvements in the months ahead, and then we can enjoy an unbeatable season - but I have to remain vigilant, and stick to my training schedule or all is lost before I'm even out of the gate. What the bloody hell am I on about?
I guess all in all, I've had worse years, and I suppose I'll be reliving some of them as I plod through the writings of yesteryear, but maybe it'll help put things in perspective. Perhaps I'll see that I'm not so far off from my goals, that I didn't really get too far off the track, that the uncompromising dedication to writing is, in fact, going to pay off. I see that I'm the same unwavering self I've always been, just not as pretty, and I don't laugh, sing or dance quite as much as I used to - and I want more sleep. Days of it. A week even... Well, it's the weekend now, and it's after noon, so on to the dreaded laundry and grocery shopping chores. Maybe we'll even go to the toy store, because the kid has $40 he's dying to spend on more crap, like he doesn't have enough, and I 'm running out of room to put it all! Really, I want to work in the garden and sip cocktails, but I don't want to spend the money on garden supplies today, and the fridge is close to empty. And the pile of laundry has worn out it's welcome on the living room floor. Ugh. Pry fat ass off of bed, turn off computer, take part in real life activities in real time. Spend time with child. Enjoy life --> GO
Oh yeah - any ideas what I should do with the porn? I had one friend suggest I send it to her, but I don't know what she's planning on doing with it... Is there still a forum in Penthouse? Will they pay for it? Any ideas and suggestions would be welcome!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Year in Review
Wow, haven't checked in for awhile, but it looks like it's time to get with some 'learning documentation', so on we go...
First off, this blog is now a year old, and I want to go back and check in with what's been happening, and comment on what all's gone down this year. Secondly, I want to talk about the experience of working on my first creative project of the semester. I have a feeling that may end up being more than one post...
I created the blog and put a few words up on March 11, but the second post, the April 18th post, was an actual introductory paragraph. I talked about why I was here; my employer thought I could write a blog for the orchard which turned out to fizzle after just three posts - just one more thing neither one of us felt like dealing with! I liked the idea of blogging, read a few of my friends' blogs, and I thought it was a neat and easy way to do my evening journaling. It sounds kind of like talking to myself, which, I guess, is what journaling actually is, in a sense. But journaling is kind of personal, and while I had it in my head that this was the internet, and that gajillions of people use the internet, it never occured to me that anyone I know would read it! But they did. Surprise! It's o.k., I'm an open book kind of chick, anyway... A year later, I no longer work at the orchard, but I continue to blog. There seem to be at least 5 people who claim interest in what I may write here, and I still can't tell where the boundry is between personal and private.
I mean, if I'm journaling, then I'm talking to myself. Getting down all the little things I want to remember about the day, or just sort of take a mental inventory before I go to bed. It's processing my feelings around what happened in my day and maybe a plan for a better tomorrow. Checking in. But in the back of my mind, I'm keely aware that I'm going to put this out there for other random gajillions to read if they so choose, so I hold back - I don't use names. If you know me, and you know who my kid's dad is, or who I mean when I refer to my BF, then yeah, you can figure your way past my attempt at protecting the anonymity of people who touch my life, whose actions have an effect on me. That's been tough to reconcile to myself, but I will continue to work on it. I feel it's my right to talk about what I need, to ask for help in processing a situation sometimes, and also I need to vent. So I defend my 'tell most' nature, I think it encourages honest discourse. Besides, if you've got that much to hide...I'm just sayin'. Don't get me wrong, I have my stories I don't publicize either, so those of you who are close to me - no worries, your secrets are safe!
Another topic I hit the floor running with was the fact that I had reconnected with someone I used to know who I let myself believe wanted to be my Prince Charming. Turns out he tells that to all the girls, and I was mad that I let myself fall for it at my age, in my shape! It brings to the surface a lot of what's going on with me in terms of my weight, body issues, and need for companionship. I know that people who love me love me no matter what I look like. I know that a person who is going to be attracted to me will be attracted to my many other fine qualities. I don't feel completely comfortable in this enlarged skin, and I don't believe I'll really let myself get into a relationship before I do. It's funny, I wasn't going to have kids because I thought I'd never be able to give them what I call 'the white picket fence', but here I am doing an o.k. job at it anyway! So maybe if I give up looking for love because I don't think I have the things I need to be a healthy partner, will it find me? The yearly wrap up on all that is, still fat, still single, still chatting online. Yay. I'm starting to think that just knowing what I need to do to get healthy isn't enough. I think it might be time to join some Weight Watchers type thing, where there are other people to help hold me accountable or something...
When I get my life in order - that's when I'll be ready for a boyfriend (in other words, when I'm dead!). No, it'll happen when it's right, I hope.
In that same vein, now would be the time to address the yearly review of the BF - for those who may not know, I mean 'best' friend, not boyfriend, when I speak of this elusive form of wildlife. He is in the same place doing the same thing, and the only thing that's changed is me finally making good on my claim to just be done with it already. As I read back over the blog, I realized that I've been saying how sick I am of the relationship we have since the second post - so I guess it shouldn't be any surprise that we had a huge argument and I walked away from it all. That situation has been looking to blow up for awhile now, and I just have too many other things to focus on that are positive, to let this one big negative drag me down anymore. It hurts and I'm lonely, but ultimately it's the right thing. Sigh. Good time buddies...what it is. More energy to give to my boyfriend, when the Universe delivers him!
Oh my goodness! A man in the house?! No way!! This place is a MESS! I remember when Zev was a baby, and I was wondering how women had time to get everything done, and they told me, "let your housework go." I thought, "no way!" I couldn't do it. There was no way I could do it. Now, 5 years later, I look around my house and think, "this is what it means to let your housework go..." I don't have one of those homes where there's decaying crap in poorly balanced piles to the ceiling and pathways through the clutter, just the ever-present pile of dirty dishes, and unmopped floors. Too many jackets on the coat-rack, too many shoes by the door - that kind of mess. Toys on the coffee table (which is really a trunk), a heap of laundry where I dumped all the dirty sheets, towels and blankets on the living room floor, and where they remain, mocking me as I walk past... My bathroom and kitchen always need a good scrubbing, and if the laundry isn't lying around being dirty, then it is usually hanging around waiting to get dry, or clean waiting to get folded and/or put away. I seem to always be in a state of 'between' dirty and clean, which, isn't clean.
On the bright side, I'm down to one more box to empty, and then I'll be completely unpacked for the first time in...I can't remember when. I think I was fully unpacked for a minute when the boy was small, so just over 4 years ago? This place was a dump when I moved in, much like many of my previous haunts, but over time and with patience, I have scrubbed and painted and decorated, and now it almost looks like something. Without a doubt, way better than it was, but still, the ongoing struggle with the mess. Also, the garden looks like it's off to a good start this year, my pansies came back in abundance, and I built a pretty rock wall to replace the ugly bricks. I dug out some of the giant old hostas to make room for more pretty flowers, and perhaps a shrub. Just needs a bit of soil to fill in where the hostas were and some mulch, and I think we're good to go!
Well, there's a few more topics I wanted to cover still, but I wasn't intending to write an epic poem or anything, and I have other stuff I need to get to today! I've spent enough time on this post, I've got the next one ready to go, and the one after that planned as well. I just wish I had some more images to share...need to work on that! Anyway, sending love and happiness out into the Universe on this Gorgeous Spring day! Peace, hippies! Dear god, I'm listening to Steve Miller...must...change......station.........
First off, this blog is now a year old, and I want to go back and check in with what's been happening, and comment on what all's gone down this year. Secondly, I want to talk about the experience of working on my first creative project of the semester. I have a feeling that may end up being more than one post...
I created the blog and put a few words up on March 11, but the second post, the April 18th post, was an actual introductory paragraph. I talked about why I was here; my employer thought I could write a blog for the orchard which turned out to fizzle after just three posts - just one more thing neither one of us felt like dealing with! I liked the idea of blogging, read a few of my friends' blogs, and I thought it was a neat and easy way to do my evening journaling. It sounds kind of like talking to myself, which, I guess, is what journaling actually is, in a sense. But journaling is kind of personal, and while I had it in my head that this was the internet, and that gajillions of people use the internet, it never occured to me that anyone I know would read it! But they did. Surprise! It's o.k., I'm an open book kind of chick, anyway... A year later, I no longer work at the orchard, but I continue to blog. There seem to be at least 5 people who claim interest in what I may write here, and I still can't tell where the boundry is between personal and private.
I mean, if I'm journaling, then I'm talking to myself. Getting down all the little things I want to remember about the day, or just sort of take a mental inventory before I go to bed. It's processing my feelings around what happened in my day and maybe a plan for a better tomorrow. Checking in. But in the back of my mind, I'm keely aware that I'm going to put this out there for other random gajillions to read if they so choose, so I hold back - I don't use names. If you know me, and you know who my kid's dad is, or who I mean when I refer to my BF, then yeah, you can figure your way past my attempt at protecting the anonymity of people who touch my life, whose actions have an effect on me. That's been tough to reconcile to myself, but I will continue to work on it. I feel it's my right to talk about what I need, to ask for help in processing a situation sometimes, and also I need to vent. So I defend my 'tell most' nature, I think it encourages honest discourse. Besides, if you've got that much to hide...I'm just sayin'. Don't get me wrong, I have my stories I don't publicize either, so those of you who are close to me - no worries, your secrets are safe!
Another topic I hit the floor running with was the fact that I had reconnected with someone I used to know who I let myself believe wanted to be my Prince Charming. Turns out he tells that to all the girls, and I was mad that I let myself fall for it at my age, in my shape! It brings to the surface a lot of what's going on with me in terms of my weight, body issues, and need for companionship. I know that people who love me love me no matter what I look like. I know that a person who is going to be attracted to me will be attracted to my many other fine qualities. I don't feel completely comfortable in this enlarged skin, and I don't believe I'll really let myself get into a relationship before I do. It's funny, I wasn't going to have kids because I thought I'd never be able to give them what I call 'the white picket fence', but here I am doing an o.k. job at it anyway! So maybe if I give up looking for love because I don't think I have the things I need to be a healthy partner, will it find me? The yearly wrap up on all that is, still fat, still single, still chatting online. Yay. I'm starting to think that just knowing what I need to do to get healthy isn't enough. I think it might be time to join some Weight Watchers type thing, where there are other people to help hold me accountable or something...
When I get my life in order - that's when I'll be ready for a boyfriend (in other words, when I'm dead!). No, it'll happen when it's right, I hope.
In that same vein, now would be the time to address the yearly review of the BF - for those who may not know, I mean 'best' friend, not boyfriend, when I speak of this elusive form of wildlife. He is in the same place doing the same thing, and the only thing that's changed is me finally making good on my claim to just be done with it already. As I read back over the blog, I realized that I've been saying how sick I am of the relationship we have since the second post - so I guess it shouldn't be any surprise that we had a huge argument and I walked away from it all. That situation has been looking to blow up for awhile now, and I just have too many other things to focus on that are positive, to let this one big negative drag me down anymore. It hurts and I'm lonely, but ultimately it's the right thing. Sigh. Good time buddies...what it is. More energy to give to my boyfriend, when the Universe delivers him!
Oh my goodness! A man in the house?! No way!! This place is a MESS! I remember when Zev was a baby, and I was wondering how women had time to get everything done, and they told me, "let your housework go." I thought, "no way!" I couldn't do it. There was no way I could do it. Now, 5 years later, I look around my house and think, "this is what it means to let your housework go..." I don't have one of those homes where there's decaying crap in poorly balanced piles to the ceiling and pathways through the clutter, just the ever-present pile of dirty dishes, and unmopped floors. Too many jackets on the coat-rack, too many shoes by the door - that kind of mess. Toys on the coffee table (which is really a trunk), a heap of laundry where I dumped all the dirty sheets, towels and blankets on the living room floor, and where they remain, mocking me as I walk past... My bathroom and kitchen always need a good scrubbing, and if the laundry isn't lying around being dirty, then it is usually hanging around waiting to get dry, or clean waiting to get folded and/or put away. I seem to always be in a state of 'between' dirty and clean, which, isn't clean.
On the bright side, I'm down to one more box to empty, and then I'll be completely unpacked for the first time in...I can't remember when. I think I was fully unpacked for a minute when the boy was small, so just over 4 years ago? This place was a dump when I moved in, much like many of my previous haunts, but over time and with patience, I have scrubbed and painted and decorated, and now it almost looks like something. Without a doubt, way better than it was, but still, the ongoing struggle with the mess. Also, the garden looks like it's off to a good start this year, my pansies came back in abundance, and I built a pretty rock wall to replace the ugly bricks. I dug out some of the giant old hostas to make room for more pretty flowers, and perhaps a shrub. Just needs a bit of soil to fill in where the hostas were and some mulch, and I think we're good to go!
Well, there's a few more topics I wanted to cover still, but I wasn't intending to write an epic poem or anything, and I have other stuff I need to get to today! I've spent enough time on this post, I've got the next one ready to go, and the one after that planned as well. I just wish I had some more images to share...need to work on that! Anyway, sending love and happiness out into the Universe on this Gorgeous Spring day! Peace, hippies! Dear god, I'm listening to Steve Miller...must...change......station.........
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Huh.
All right, people, apparantly I fucked up... The Grapevine told me that my RANTS of late have caused some stir some miles from here. Interesting. I feel like I try so hard to keep things anonymous, but that I didn't really see how the connection might have run (me, the conspiracy theorist). Oops, sorry, my bad. Spank me? It won't be the first time my name's been thrown around the gutter of that town, sadly enough. We all have our moments.
It's so weird, this separating of identities! Or maybe I'm just doing it wrong, who knows. Always, I feel wronged by some..one, by some thing, and I write about it. And a bunch of people get mad at me. But a few folks, just a few, they smile.
I don't know what not to say anymore, does it matter? I guess it does. We all keep each other's secrets, or we're supposed to, how does that work out for us? Perhaps I'm the one who's betraying a friend, godawful thing...
I really am trying to do better.
It's so weird, this separating of identities! Or maybe I'm just doing it wrong, who knows. Always, I feel wronged by some..one, by some thing, and I write about it. And a bunch of people get mad at me. But a few folks, just a few, they smile.
I don't know what not to say anymore, does it matter? I guess it does. We all keep each other's secrets, or we're supposed to, how does that work out for us? Perhaps I'm the one who's betraying a friend, godawful thing...
I really am trying to do better.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
RANT III: though it's more of a sob, or a whimper
I gotta tell ya, I didn't see this one coming...
I guess it started OUT an o.k. day, and I wonder if I can pinpoint where it went wrong. I did some writing this morning, and then took a good, hot and soapy shower, because it had been a few days... That pretty much took until the kid got home from school 'cause they had a half day today, and it's Friday, so there wasn't any homework (yaay!). Necessity drove us to the mall - tomorrow is my niece's birthday, and she's having a sleepover - to the girlie accessory shop for pink and shiny oversize rings, feathery earrings, chunky bracelets; and to the department store for Bakugan.
O.k., I think we're closing in on our first snag in the fabric of the day - the boy hadn't wanted to go to the mall in the first place, and I don't blame him - I'm not much for shopping, and it usually gets frustrating before it gets done. Now, my kid is a sweet kid, by the standards of most of the folks he runs into, but he hasn't been minding me lately, and it's been...pissing me off. Look back two posts for a discussion on how much I like to be pissed off. I've threatened that if I have to tell him three times to not do what he's doing, I'm not gonna buy him the cool toy that's sitting in the cart next to him, the mind-blowingly cool toy we didn't even know existed until we saw it in the store just prior to putting it in the cart...even though it's not HIS birthday.
So he touches what he shouldn't, or runs ahead into the crowd, or what-have-you I don't even remember anymore, and I stop in my tracks, give him the, 'I can't believe you just DID the thing again' look, and swing the cart around saying, "oh, well, guess we're putting the toy back then." He cries, I feel like the biggest asshole in the world (because there were only two on the shelf and who knew if there would be any more so we'd better get it while the getting was good), stopping my roll just short of the checkout (sans toy) to have a heart-to-heart in the girls' department. Basically I make him swear to be the best boy ever in the whole world for the rest of his life, and I will suspend punishment of his transgression and get the toy. The world is good, forward progression resumes, one more stop to go...
...but wait!!! I want something, just for me. Selfish, I know, but true. There is a little pink building between here and there, and I've been meaning to stop in for awhile, so I hijack myself to the tattoo / piercing place. My mom had my ears pierced when I was 8, because I guess she wanted hers pierced when she was 8 and wasn't allowed, but she didn't ask me, and I resented that. When I was 15, she wouldn't give me permission to get a double pierce, but I went and got one anyway. I had a cat named Delia who traveled with me for 5 years, and when she died, I fasted for a week, then put in a triple pierce for her (I dug that cat). I hardly ever wear earrings in my first holes, which represent my mom and my dad to me, but for the past 20 years or so, I've worn a small silver ring in the double pierce, which is on the left side. In the triple, also on the left, I've worn a stainless stud. Today, I changed out the silver ring for a blue ring with a silver ball that is up a gauge (owie), and I changed out the stainless for a green ball, green for Delia's eyes. I also put in a double on the right (owie), a purple ball, for Zev because his birthstone is amythest. He just kind of sat still and looked around the whole time, the place got kind of busy. I think he was afraid to look! Anyway, back on track to...
...the costume shop. My friend speculated to me recently that life would be all good if he only had a rainbow afro wig. Done. If that's all it takes, man, I got your back! Right? If someone I care about can experience happiness by way of something so simple to provide? And if this friend was pretty down into the depressive dumps, like, all the way down? One rainbow afro wig comin' up, man! Now, on the ride to wigtown, I asked the kid a hundred times if he was hungry, the afternoon getting on towards evening by now, and he refused all offers of food, but named his thirst a priority. We accomplish yet another mission, and with water bottle and wig in hand, we rolled on towards the delivery, and I called another friend who apparantly was open to having us all over tonight. Super!
The afro was a hit. I'm that good, because it's that easy! The kid waited in the car. Now he really wanted to go home. I said we should stop for some food and go check out another friend for a bit, then head home. He insisted he still wasn't hungry. About 10 minutes up the road, just a few hundred yards from my buddy's driveway, the poor little guy says "my belly hurts" and promptly pukes all over himself. Oh, goodness..."just hang on buddy, we're almost there! Hang on, we'll get to the house, get you in, and get you all cleaned up, don't worry, it's o.k., here we are..."
My boy doesn't really like getting wet all that much, let alone sitting in a puddle of his own puke, and the shreiking that ensued while I had to half-drag him into the house as he clenched his shaking little fists into balls wrenched my heart. We beelined straight for the bathroom, got him naked, wiped off, and tucked in under a blanket on the couch, and I ran back out to the car for my bag o' tricks. These two bags packed for the apocolypse that I've kept in my trunk now for 6 years, and had recently considered not needing anymore, made me proud to be equipped for the incident. The small boy was soon reclothed in dry and comfy gear, and tucked back in with a movie. He drank a few gulps of water. Crisis averted. About 20 minutes later, he puked again.
By now, I had just finished pulling out the carseat, toweling the puke off the backseat and the floor of the car, and disassembling the carseat for washing. I took the boy in the bathroom, stripped him down and toweled him off AGAIN, tucked him back in on the opposite end of the couch (in his underpants and socks this time), toweled off the couch, and added a SECOND pile of his clothes along with the blankets to the growing pile of wash. Lucky my friend has a washer and dryer! He takes another few gulps of water, and after about ten more minutes, he pukes again. Now I call the doctor. He has me check my son's abdomen for pain, in case of appendicitis, but he seems clear of that danger, and to have just succumbed to the stomach bug of the month. He's six, and this is the second time he's ever puked (other than spitting up as a baby, which he did in abundance), so it's no biggie, really. I wrap him in a comfy shirt of mine from out of the bag, and tuck him in once more...
Here's the second snag - my friend who's house it is starts in with his half-drunk proselytising on what he considers to be an over-reaction on my part to the kid's well-being. I argue with him for a bit, about how he doesn't understand the urgency with which parenting can sometimes require you to be present in, but all he does by way of helping to keep me reassured is to loudly proclaim , "Wow, you REALLY need a man in your life!" repeatedly. Fine, I say after a bit, I need a man's opinion? I'll call the kid's father, if I'm not to be trusted with my own opinion in this situation. The father is called, and I hand the phone over for the men to discuss business that is obviously outside my real of understanding. Once they have consulted and it's MY turn to discuss our child with the other parent, I am vindicated by the words, "well, HE'S wasted...", followed by a thoughtfully concerned inquiry into the state of the boy, and calming conjecture and conference with me about the course of action. He is a good friend...
Then, things seem to calm down. My muffin's stomach appeared to settle itself a bit, and he valiantly tried to fall asleep among the too loud voices, the noise of the laundry, and the t.v. (I'd have taken him home in a NY minute, but his carseat and coat were spinning in the laundry). I turned off the t.v. and the lights in the living room, tucked him in with a fresh blanket, sat with him and helped him slow his breath and integrate the noises around him into a lullaby. As he drifted off, I slowly withdrew myself from his bubble of tenuous sleep, rejoined my friends in the kitchen for a cigarette break, and began shuffing some cards to further soothe the high-alert out of my nerves. I took a few deep breaths. I had a tall glass of water, and a snack. I was tired, but I was happy to be almost over this small incident with a few friends nearby to enjoy a game of cards with while the laundry turned...as the boy slept, and things got cleaned, an air of playfulness gently poked it's way through the loud punctuations of the frequent drinkers, while I indulged my preference for smoke (yay!). Ahh.
Snag three, the BIG one. I don't even know how far into this I have the emotional strength to go - it's taken me twice as long to write about as it did to live it already, and I would like to start dealing with being in the aftermath of it now. How do I even approach it? My friend has this other friend...I can't stand her. She rubs me the wrong way. Every instance in which I've had to deal with her leaves me incredulous, and crawling with disdain. Let's just say I've made it clear that I will not share space with this woman, and yet she continues to show up at my friend's when she knows I'm there. He's not going to disassociate with her entirely just because I don't like her, but he does a pretty good job of keeping the two of us seperate. She shows up, I leave. Period. But tonight, I got a sick kid sleeping on the couch, whose clothes and carseat are still spinning in the dryer - the MOMENT this bitch sets foot in the house, I am in kill mode. My eyes get big, my heart starts pounding , and I start telling the person sitting next to me in very hushed tones that 'she needs to go'. This is imperitive. The intruder must leave the premises immediately. My friend whose house it is, instead of stopping her at the door and explaining that she can't play tonight, actually leads her in - to the room my kid is sleeping in!!! I'm an adrenaline fountain. I realize that she's not leaving. He's not asking her to leave. He's talking quietly with her in the other room...the bitch comes sauntering into the kitchen where the other dude and I are sitting, and says in a mocking tone, "hel-lo!" making it clear to me that she has no plans of leaving. I am up out of my chair. My other friend is standing there doing nothing, so I'm out. I'm putting on my shoes, and I am leaving. I shout once that "she has to GO!" before I get on my boots, which takes way longer than I want it to, because now my less than friendly friend is yelling at me and telling me I need to chill, while he is still making no attempt to remove this person from his house. I grab my poor sleeping kid from under the blankets, half naked, and carry him out into the chilly night, where his bare bottom must have loved sliding onto the cold leather seat, ran back in for my keys, and drove off into midnight -
I thought it was over once we were home and I had the boy safely tucked in to my bed next to me, but the phone rang several times in the night, which of course, I didn't answer. I checked the messages this morning though, and it was my (thinking he's not really a) friend whose house it was calling on the cell phone of the other dude who was there, to tell me what a fucking cunt I was, and because of the drama I had stirred up, he now had no contacts and no prospects of work as a result of his cell phone getting smashed. I dunno. I didn't call him back. He called later in the day from his own number, though, to tell me I left some stuff at his house - frankly, I wasn't planning on going back for it, I was just gonna give it up for dead...
Anyway, that's the story, from my MY perspective at least. I am so. completely. humiliated and beside myself with greif that my two friends did nothing to back me up, and ask this person to leave. I've known these guys a long time, and I thought my comfort level meant a bit more to them than that, but I was wrong again. Who the HELL can you count on, anymore? And to be called awful words and accused of causing the destruction of property because the fact that this woman whom I hate so much once brought over a pizza when we were down and out - when I have been there time and again for 20 years? There's plenty of goddamned people in the world who've fed us when we were down and out who he wouldn't give a second thought about tossing out of his house on my account or anyone else's! Given these particular circumstances, I am beyond heartbreak. I've been so lonely in my life, having lost more relationships than I've gained, and now I realize that I must be even lonlier still before I see this transition through. It's enough to send me through a whole bar of dark chocolate, and losing the fight against a fierce hankering for some soda.
I guess I've put down all I need to say about this right now, and I'm hoping I'm sufficiently purged, because I'm ready to be free of this 'place'. All this upheaval, all this change. Not just here with me, I've seen it a couple of other places as well, in others. I'm feeling sadly Zen, if that's a possible way to feel. And I think I've come to the end of it. It's now night of the following day, having kept myself and the boy in bed throughout as much of it as possible, because we're both relatively exhausted and drained. He didn't make it to his cousin's party, and I didn't get my night out. I can't even guess what I may need right now, but I'm gonna go cast about and see if I can't find something that might nourish and revive me, soothe me, and help me see my way through.
The kid nailed it - he wanted chicken soup, and I had made some brown rice...earthy goodness,
THE END
I guess it started OUT an o.k. day, and I wonder if I can pinpoint where it went wrong. I did some writing this morning, and then took a good, hot and soapy shower, because it had been a few days... That pretty much took until the kid got home from school 'cause they had a half day today, and it's Friday, so there wasn't any homework (yaay!). Necessity drove us to the mall - tomorrow is my niece's birthday, and she's having a sleepover - to the girlie accessory shop for pink and shiny oversize rings, feathery earrings, chunky bracelets; and to the department store for Bakugan.
O.k., I think we're closing in on our first snag in the fabric of the day - the boy hadn't wanted to go to the mall in the first place, and I don't blame him - I'm not much for shopping, and it usually gets frustrating before it gets done. Now, my kid is a sweet kid, by the standards of most of the folks he runs into, but he hasn't been minding me lately, and it's been...pissing me off. Look back two posts for a discussion on how much I like to be pissed off. I've threatened that if I have to tell him three times to not do what he's doing, I'm not gonna buy him the cool toy that's sitting in the cart next to him, the mind-blowingly cool toy we didn't even know existed until we saw it in the store just prior to putting it in the cart...even though it's not HIS birthday.
So he touches what he shouldn't, or runs ahead into the crowd, or what-have-you I don't even remember anymore, and I stop in my tracks, give him the, 'I can't believe you just DID the thing again' look, and swing the cart around saying, "oh, well, guess we're putting the toy back then." He cries, I feel like the biggest asshole in the world (because there were only two on the shelf and who knew if there would be any more so we'd better get it while the getting was good), stopping my roll just short of the checkout (sans toy) to have a heart-to-heart in the girls' department. Basically I make him swear to be the best boy ever in the whole world for the rest of his life, and I will suspend punishment of his transgression and get the toy. The world is good, forward progression resumes, one more stop to go...
...but wait!!! I want something, just for me. Selfish, I know, but true. There is a little pink building between here and there, and I've been meaning to stop in for awhile, so I hijack myself to the tattoo / piercing place. My mom had my ears pierced when I was 8, because I guess she wanted hers pierced when she was 8 and wasn't allowed, but she didn't ask me, and I resented that. When I was 15, she wouldn't give me permission to get a double pierce, but I went and got one anyway. I had a cat named Delia who traveled with me for 5 years, and when she died, I fasted for a week, then put in a triple pierce for her (I dug that cat). I hardly ever wear earrings in my first holes, which represent my mom and my dad to me, but for the past 20 years or so, I've worn a small silver ring in the double pierce, which is on the left side. In the triple, also on the left, I've worn a stainless stud. Today, I changed out the silver ring for a blue ring with a silver ball that is up a gauge (owie), and I changed out the stainless for a green ball, green for Delia's eyes. I also put in a double on the right (owie), a purple ball, for Zev because his birthstone is amythest. He just kind of sat still and looked around the whole time, the place got kind of busy. I think he was afraid to look! Anyway, back on track to...
...the costume shop. My friend speculated to me recently that life would be all good if he only had a rainbow afro wig. Done. If that's all it takes, man, I got your back! Right? If someone I care about can experience happiness by way of something so simple to provide? And if this friend was pretty down into the depressive dumps, like, all the way down? One rainbow afro wig comin' up, man! Now, on the ride to wigtown, I asked the kid a hundred times if he was hungry, the afternoon getting on towards evening by now, and he refused all offers of food, but named his thirst a priority. We accomplish yet another mission, and with water bottle and wig in hand, we rolled on towards the delivery, and I called another friend who apparantly was open to having us all over tonight. Super!
The afro was a hit. I'm that good, because it's that easy! The kid waited in the car. Now he really wanted to go home. I said we should stop for some food and go check out another friend for a bit, then head home. He insisted he still wasn't hungry. About 10 minutes up the road, just a few hundred yards from my buddy's driveway, the poor little guy says "my belly hurts" and promptly pukes all over himself. Oh, goodness..."just hang on buddy, we're almost there! Hang on, we'll get to the house, get you in, and get you all cleaned up, don't worry, it's o.k., here we are..."
My boy doesn't really like getting wet all that much, let alone sitting in a puddle of his own puke, and the shreiking that ensued while I had to half-drag him into the house as he clenched his shaking little fists into balls wrenched my heart. We beelined straight for the bathroom, got him naked, wiped off, and tucked in under a blanket on the couch, and I ran back out to the car for my bag o' tricks. These two bags packed for the apocolypse that I've kept in my trunk now for 6 years, and had recently considered not needing anymore, made me proud to be equipped for the incident. The small boy was soon reclothed in dry and comfy gear, and tucked back in with a movie. He drank a few gulps of water. Crisis averted. About 20 minutes later, he puked again.
By now, I had just finished pulling out the carseat, toweling the puke off the backseat and the floor of the car, and disassembling the carseat for washing. I took the boy in the bathroom, stripped him down and toweled him off AGAIN, tucked him back in on the opposite end of the couch (in his underpants and socks this time), toweled off the couch, and added a SECOND pile of his clothes along with the blankets to the growing pile of wash. Lucky my friend has a washer and dryer! He takes another few gulps of water, and after about ten more minutes, he pukes again. Now I call the doctor. He has me check my son's abdomen for pain, in case of appendicitis, but he seems clear of that danger, and to have just succumbed to the stomach bug of the month. He's six, and this is the second time he's ever puked (other than spitting up as a baby, which he did in abundance), so it's no biggie, really. I wrap him in a comfy shirt of mine from out of the bag, and tuck him in once more...
Here's the second snag - my friend who's house it is starts in with his half-drunk proselytising on what he considers to be an over-reaction on my part to the kid's well-being. I argue with him for a bit, about how he doesn't understand the urgency with which parenting can sometimes require you to be present in, but all he does by way of helping to keep me reassured is to loudly proclaim , "Wow, you REALLY need a man in your life!" repeatedly. Fine, I say after a bit, I need a man's opinion? I'll call the kid's father, if I'm not to be trusted with my own opinion in this situation. The father is called, and I hand the phone over for the men to discuss business that is obviously outside my real of understanding. Once they have consulted and it's MY turn to discuss our child with the other parent, I am vindicated by the words, "well, HE'S wasted...", followed by a thoughtfully concerned inquiry into the state of the boy, and calming conjecture and conference with me about the course of action. He is a good friend...
Then, things seem to calm down. My muffin's stomach appeared to settle itself a bit, and he valiantly tried to fall asleep among the too loud voices, the noise of the laundry, and the t.v. (I'd have taken him home in a NY minute, but his carseat and coat were spinning in the laundry). I turned off the t.v. and the lights in the living room, tucked him in with a fresh blanket, sat with him and helped him slow his breath and integrate the noises around him into a lullaby. As he drifted off, I slowly withdrew myself from his bubble of tenuous sleep, rejoined my friends in the kitchen for a cigarette break, and began shuffing some cards to further soothe the high-alert out of my nerves. I took a few deep breaths. I had a tall glass of water, and a snack. I was tired, but I was happy to be almost over this small incident with a few friends nearby to enjoy a game of cards with while the laundry turned...as the boy slept, and things got cleaned, an air of playfulness gently poked it's way through the loud punctuations of the frequent drinkers, while I indulged my preference for smoke (yay!). Ahh.
Snag three, the BIG one. I don't even know how far into this I have the emotional strength to go - it's taken me twice as long to write about as it did to live it already, and I would like to start dealing with being in the aftermath of it now. How do I even approach it? My friend has this other friend...I can't stand her. She rubs me the wrong way. Every instance in which I've had to deal with her leaves me incredulous, and crawling with disdain. Let's just say I've made it clear that I will not share space with this woman, and yet she continues to show up at my friend's when she knows I'm there. He's not going to disassociate with her entirely just because I don't like her, but he does a pretty good job of keeping the two of us seperate. She shows up, I leave. Period. But tonight, I got a sick kid sleeping on the couch, whose clothes and carseat are still spinning in the dryer - the MOMENT this bitch sets foot in the house, I am in kill mode. My eyes get big, my heart starts pounding , and I start telling the person sitting next to me in very hushed tones that 'she needs to go'. This is imperitive. The intruder must leave the premises immediately. My friend whose house it is, instead of stopping her at the door and explaining that she can't play tonight, actually leads her in - to the room my kid is sleeping in!!! I'm an adrenaline fountain. I realize that she's not leaving. He's not asking her to leave. He's talking quietly with her in the other room...the bitch comes sauntering into the kitchen where the other dude and I are sitting, and says in a mocking tone, "hel-lo!" making it clear to me that she has no plans of leaving. I am up out of my chair. My other friend is standing there doing nothing, so I'm out. I'm putting on my shoes, and I am leaving. I shout once that "she has to GO!" before I get on my boots, which takes way longer than I want it to, because now my less than friendly friend is yelling at me and telling me I need to chill, while he is still making no attempt to remove this person from his house. I grab my poor sleeping kid from under the blankets, half naked, and carry him out into the chilly night, where his bare bottom must have loved sliding onto the cold leather seat, ran back in for my keys, and drove off into midnight -
I thought it was over once we were home and I had the boy safely tucked in to my bed next to me, but the phone rang several times in the night, which of course, I didn't answer. I checked the messages this morning though, and it was my (thinking he's not really a) friend whose house it was calling on the cell phone of the other dude who was there, to tell me what a fucking cunt I was, and because of the drama I had stirred up, he now had no contacts and no prospects of work as a result of his cell phone getting smashed. I dunno. I didn't call him back. He called later in the day from his own number, though, to tell me I left some stuff at his house - frankly, I wasn't planning on going back for it, I was just gonna give it up for dead...
Anyway, that's the story, from my MY perspective at least. I am so. completely. humiliated and beside myself with greif that my two friends did nothing to back me up, and ask this person to leave. I've known these guys a long time, and I thought my comfort level meant a bit more to them than that, but I was wrong again. Who the HELL can you count on, anymore? And to be called awful words and accused of causing the destruction of property because the fact that this woman whom I hate so much once brought over a pizza when we were down and out - when I have been there time and again for 20 years? There's plenty of goddamned people in the world who've fed us when we were down and out who he wouldn't give a second thought about tossing out of his house on my account or anyone else's! Given these particular circumstances, I am beyond heartbreak. I've been so lonely in my life, having lost more relationships than I've gained, and now I realize that I must be even lonlier still before I see this transition through. It's enough to send me through a whole bar of dark chocolate, and losing the fight against a fierce hankering for some soda.
I guess I've put down all I need to say about this right now, and I'm hoping I'm sufficiently purged, because I'm ready to be free of this 'place'. All this upheaval, all this change. Not just here with me, I've seen it a couple of other places as well, in others. I'm feeling sadly Zen, if that's a possible way to feel. And I think I've come to the end of it. It's now night of the following day, having kept myself and the boy in bed throughout as much of it as possible, because we're both relatively exhausted and drained. He didn't make it to his cousin's party, and I didn't get my night out. I can't even guess what I may need right now, but I'm gonna go cast about and see if I can't find something that might nourish and revive me, soothe me, and help me see my way through.
The kid nailed it - he wanted chicken soup, and I had made some brown rice...earthy goodness,
THE END
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
RANT II
This is going to be a bit personal, so consider yourself warned...
One thing I did not touch on in my rant yesterday (the deleted paragraph), was the anger I felt at a certain dude who didn't respond to my requests for help with childcare (I sent out a facebook event invite, and he checked 'maybe'). He didn't respond to my emails, didn't answer my phone calls, and didn't call me back the whole time I was in VT. His older child is just about the same age as mine, and I had thought we were great friends. Dude and Babydaddy were in a band together for years - I took a lot of photos for them and never asked for anything in return. I did their booking out of the kindness of my heart. I did these things because I like to help my friends succeed; it makes me feel good to do kindness for others, and, of course, it put money in all our pockets (and a few free drinks).
When Babydaddy and I broke up, Dude and I stayed friends. We became more than friends - we became intimate. I thought this was because he liked me, cared about me, had genuine feelings for me that he had kept to himself out of respect for my relationship. We didn't date or anything, just a now and then sort of thing, and it was nice. Comfortable and sweet, our little secret. We would chat online in the evenings when the kids were asleep, and we stayed in touch when I moved to NY. I would always pop in and visit when I was in town. Just before he got married recently, he contacted me in an intimate way, claiming his soon-to-be bride didn't fulfill all his needs...well. I don't go there. He was unattached during all our times together, but I don't touch a guy in a serious relationship, call me crazy! I haven't heard from him since.
He was a facebook friend, until yesterday. He never posted to my wall, deleted my comments, didn't respond to my messages... I'm no dope, I got the message. I ask you, invisible audience, What's Up With That? Do I pose a threat to his marriage? To his manhood? I've never been anything but kind to this man, and he treated me like a piece of ass. I think now that the only reason he ever wanted to be with me was that he was in love with my boyfriend. He couldn't fuck my boyfriend (that would be gay!) but he could fuck me, and put his dick where boyfriend's dick had been, and he'd get what he wanted by association. Am I being spiteful? Or am I seeing the truth more clearly? Either way, I was hurt in retrospect by his non-response to my saying 'hey, old friend, let's get together with the kids and introduce me to your new wife'.
Then I found out he was AT Goddard while I was there, and made no attempt to seek me out and say hello. That really hurt. I know I'm mostly a bitch (yes I am!), but when I care about people, I care about them truly and deeply, and I am fiercely loyal to them through thick and thin. Sometimes even when I shouldn't be - hey, we all have our faults. I have a few exes I am still friendly with because I don't stop loving someone just because I'm no longer fucking them. In fact, I have been intimate with (how many?) of my friends, and I believe it only brings us closer, makes our ties stronger, because of the level of intimacy we have shared. It's a trust issue, in my mind. "I have trusted you with my body, with my deep secrets, with my moans of ecstasy - will you betray me?" This is the question we don't ask each other, but the answer is always "you can trust me, I will not betray you. I will love you, always". In my heart, I will always love this man who has betrayed me, although I can no longer count him amongst my friends. He will never know how he has hurt me, why would he care? But I still cried a little at the loss of him.
I love you all. Truly, deeply and forever. I will never knowingly hurt you, or betray you, or cause you lasting pain. This is my promise to those of you who have stuck by me, again and again, even when I wasn't worth sticking by. I need every single one of you in my life, like I need water and air and food. You are my friends, and you are special, and I am blessed.
Selah
One thing I did not touch on in my rant yesterday (the deleted paragraph), was the anger I felt at a certain dude who didn't respond to my requests for help with childcare (I sent out a facebook event invite, and he checked 'maybe'). He didn't respond to my emails, didn't answer my phone calls, and didn't call me back the whole time I was in VT. His older child is just about the same age as mine, and I had thought we were great friends. Dude and Babydaddy were in a band together for years - I took a lot of photos for them and never asked for anything in return. I did their booking out of the kindness of my heart. I did these things because I like to help my friends succeed; it makes me feel good to do kindness for others, and, of course, it put money in all our pockets (and a few free drinks).
When Babydaddy and I broke up, Dude and I stayed friends. We became more than friends - we became intimate. I thought this was because he liked me, cared about me, had genuine feelings for me that he had kept to himself out of respect for my relationship. We didn't date or anything, just a now and then sort of thing, and it was nice. Comfortable and sweet, our little secret. We would chat online in the evenings when the kids were asleep, and we stayed in touch when I moved to NY. I would always pop in and visit when I was in town. Just before he got married recently, he contacted me in an intimate way, claiming his soon-to-be bride didn't fulfill all his needs...well. I don't go there. He was unattached during all our times together, but I don't touch a guy in a serious relationship, call me crazy! I haven't heard from him since.
He was a facebook friend, until yesterday. He never posted to my wall, deleted my comments, didn't respond to my messages... I'm no dope, I got the message. I ask you, invisible audience, What's Up With That? Do I pose a threat to his marriage? To his manhood? I've never been anything but kind to this man, and he treated me like a piece of ass. I think now that the only reason he ever wanted to be with me was that he was in love with my boyfriend. He couldn't fuck my boyfriend (that would be gay!) but he could fuck me, and put his dick where boyfriend's dick had been, and he'd get what he wanted by association. Am I being spiteful? Or am I seeing the truth more clearly? Either way, I was hurt in retrospect by his non-response to my saying 'hey, old friend, let's get together with the kids and introduce me to your new wife'.
Then I found out he was AT Goddard while I was there, and made no attempt to seek me out and say hello. That really hurt. I know I'm mostly a bitch (yes I am!), but when I care about people, I care about them truly and deeply, and I am fiercely loyal to them through thick and thin. Sometimes even when I shouldn't be - hey, we all have our faults. I have a few exes I am still friendly with because I don't stop loving someone just because I'm no longer fucking them. In fact, I have been intimate with (how many?) of my friends, and I believe it only brings us closer, makes our ties stronger, because of the level of intimacy we have shared. It's a trust issue, in my mind. "I have trusted you with my body, with my deep secrets, with my moans of ecstasy - will you betray me?" This is the question we don't ask each other, but the answer is always "you can trust me, I will not betray you. I will love you, always". In my heart, I will always love this man who has betrayed me, although I can no longer count him amongst my friends. He will never know how he has hurt me, why would he care? But I still cried a little at the loss of him.
I love you all. Truly, deeply and forever. I will never knowingly hurt you, or betray you, or cause you lasting pain. This is my promise to those of you who have stuck by me, again and again, even when I wasn't worth sticking by. I need every single one of you in my life, like I need water and air and food. You are my friends, and you are special, and I am blessed.
Selah
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
RANT
It's really too late to start this now, as it's past 10pm, and I'm tired. I was tired at 8pm. Hell, I was tired at 8am! But I'll try. Not like anyone cares, but I feel like I made a promise, and I am a keeper of promises (and secrets), so I will do my best, and go public with it. I need for 'you all' to start reading my blog more regularly, as I need to figure it into my study this semester...that sounds so funny! 'This semester'! Like a teenager away from home for the first time! Well, o.k., maybe not like that, but it's been a loooong time since I referred to the span of a few months as 'this semester'. So let's start the rant there - with the beginnings of my semester...
It was a clear, cold morning as we rolled into town, the landscape white and hushed from the evening's snowfall...no, just kidding, it isn't that kind of story! Upon my arrival at Goddard, the dude at the Help Desk pissed me off. My room on campus pissed me off. Being pissed off pisses me off, and that's a lot of pissing for someone who is particularly uneasy with a certain fetish. Anyway, as it all turns out, the residency itself was very productive and inspiring, and I got a good price on a weekly at the local motel. Childcare was a breeze. A good number of people stepped up to help me out with the boy, and I give them my undying love and highest degree of gratitude - you all are my heros, thanks!
Having said that (I just deleted an entire paragraph on just one dude), I would like to say, "WHY THE HELL ARE SO MANY OF MY FRIENDS ADDICTS?!?! There are alcoholics, potheads, pillheads, crackheads, drama queens, neg-heads, what-have-you. What does that say about me? Hate the sin love the sinner (not that I deal much with the realm that 'sin' originates from)? Granted, I have my own struggles with food and weight issues, and I have the once a month (once a week, once a day) desire to get stoned - but I don't roll out of bed in the morning smelling like last night's whisky binge! WHY would my good friend try to work a hustle on me?! Am I stupid? Do I deserve to be taken? Haven't I been there/done that? In this life, at our age, WHY?! What possible gains are there? Is it a carefully planned suicide? People, please. I know you've seen past your pain, past your fear, into a world of light. I KNOW this because you've told me. We've discussed it. Yes, it's scary. But I am your FRIEND! I will help you as I can, when I can, as soon as you are ready to let all that shit go. It's a desperate, ugly place, and it takes a lot of energy to live there - energy that could be put to better use.
The childcare thing - I was in VT for 10 days, and I had relatively reliable childcare ALL 10 DAYS!!! I live in NY, houses away from my 'family', and I'm lucky to get one night out once every two months!!! WTF?!?! I am, at this point, calling 'the NY experiment' a supreme failure, and making plans to move back to VT, where I can live in organic bliss with my junked-out friends...or, hopefully, make some new ones amongst the school moms. I tried it, I didn't like it, and now I want to get my kid out of here before any permanent damage can take hold. Coming 'home' after 10 days in VT is like a poison invading my bloodstream. My moron neighbor downstairs is such a PRICK! I lived in a motel for a week, and had better neighbors than him! This 'community' makes me sick to my stomach. Remember the plow guy who took the landlady's $50 to plow the driveway after I shoveled it? Asshole plowed my stairs under when we got all that snow while I was gone! That's the kind of people that live HERE. I am not that kind of people. I loathe such people, and want to be as far away from them as possible. Vermont will do, short of leaving the country altogether. Because, really, where would I go, Canada? Why the hell not, Montreal is a pretty swingin' town!
So - I feel another FB friend list purge coming on, and I hope I have the strength to let myself remember who my REAL friends are, not the ones I'm afraid to see go because it means a shift in my needs, in my life, like leaving them behind so I can move on to better things. 108 friends...I don't have 108 friends, I have 8! Maybe! And I don't care about hurt feelings, either, because the truth is, these folks have hurt ME, and I don't need that kind of friend anymore. Never really did, for that matter! This has been a pretty mild RANT for what I'm capable of, but it's after midnight now, and I just don't have the steam to bark out loud. Perhaps I'll read this over in the morning and see if it needs some work ~
Good night
It was a clear, cold morning as we rolled into town, the landscape white and hushed from the evening's snowfall...no, just kidding, it isn't that kind of story! Upon my arrival at Goddard, the dude at the Help Desk pissed me off. My room on campus pissed me off. Being pissed off pisses me off, and that's a lot of pissing for someone who is particularly uneasy with a certain fetish. Anyway, as it all turns out, the residency itself was very productive and inspiring, and I got a good price on a weekly at the local motel. Childcare was a breeze. A good number of people stepped up to help me out with the boy, and I give them my undying love and highest degree of gratitude - you all are my heros, thanks!
Having said that (I just deleted an entire paragraph on just one dude), I would like to say, "WHY THE HELL ARE SO MANY OF MY FRIENDS ADDICTS?!?! There are alcoholics, potheads, pillheads, crackheads, drama queens, neg-heads, what-have-you. What does that say about me? Hate the sin love the sinner (not that I deal much with the realm that 'sin' originates from)? Granted, I have my own struggles with food and weight issues, and I have the once a month (once a week, once a day) desire to get stoned - but I don't roll out of bed in the morning smelling like last night's whisky binge! WHY would my good friend try to work a hustle on me?! Am I stupid? Do I deserve to be taken? Haven't I been there/done that? In this life, at our age, WHY?! What possible gains are there? Is it a carefully planned suicide? People, please. I know you've seen past your pain, past your fear, into a world of light. I KNOW this because you've told me. We've discussed it. Yes, it's scary. But I am your FRIEND! I will help you as I can, when I can, as soon as you are ready to let all that shit go. It's a desperate, ugly place, and it takes a lot of energy to live there - energy that could be put to better use.
The childcare thing - I was in VT for 10 days, and I had relatively reliable childcare ALL 10 DAYS!!! I live in NY, houses away from my 'family', and I'm lucky to get one night out once every two months!!! WTF?!?! I am, at this point, calling 'the NY experiment' a supreme failure, and making plans to move back to VT, where I can live in organic bliss with my junked-out friends...or, hopefully, make some new ones amongst the school moms. I tried it, I didn't like it, and now I want to get my kid out of here before any permanent damage can take hold. Coming 'home' after 10 days in VT is like a poison invading my bloodstream. My moron neighbor downstairs is such a PRICK! I lived in a motel for a week, and had better neighbors than him! This 'community' makes me sick to my stomach. Remember the plow guy who took the landlady's $50 to plow the driveway after I shoveled it? Asshole plowed my stairs under when we got all that snow while I was gone! That's the kind of people that live HERE. I am not that kind of people. I loathe such people, and want to be as far away from them as possible. Vermont will do, short of leaving the country altogether. Because, really, where would I go, Canada? Why the hell not, Montreal is a pretty swingin' town!
So - I feel another FB friend list purge coming on, and I hope I have the strength to let myself remember who my REAL friends are, not the ones I'm afraid to see go because it means a shift in my needs, in my life, like leaving them behind so I can move on to better things. 108 friends...I don't have 108 friends, I have 8! Maybe! And I don't care about hurt feelings, either, because the truth is, these folks have hurt ME, and I don't need that kind of friend anymore. Never really did, for that matter! This has been a pretty mild RANT for what I'm capable of, but it's after midnight now, and I just don't have the steam to bark out loud. Perhaps I'll read this over in the morning and see if it needs some work ~
Good night
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