clean and sober

Today is completely quiet. Things are calm.

In a way, I'm finding myself withdrawing. Completely withdrawing. It's like I can't really trust anything anymore. I guess the loneliness can get to you. It does to me. I'm not made of stone.

The isolation is a friend. A familiar. Something that has always been with me, probably since the day I was born. Feeling apart. It used to make me feel so bad. But then I decided to look at it as something special. It set me apart, never mind feeling apart. I could connect with nature. I could enjoy the blue sky. I could enjoy the weather. But other people? They didn't make any sense, and only made sense when they didn't care or were mean or selfish.

It wasn't enough to say "I love you". That could change at any time, by meeting another person, by simply being bored, or having an incident that changes one's perspective. Anything could make the "I love you" go away forever. It isn't something everlasting. Love is what we chase, love is the prize, love is what makes life worthwhile.

So we chase it, we look for it, we try to make these connections to it. Oh, he's staring at me, he must like me, and if he likes me, that means he loves me. No. It means you were simply in his line of vision...and maybe not Maybe he was looking at the girl or guy directly beside you or behind you.

In the end, what are you but a convenient available soul when someone needs a temporary boost to their ego?

It is all that I am.

Staying under the radar

Simply observing and not putting in your own two cents can save you a ton of static and give you a lot of helpful information. You figure out who is aligned with who or what, what can and can't be said, what is understood and what isn't. And you aren't disliked, simply because no one has any information on you to decide whether you are too independent, too opinionated, too much of a thinker, too much or too little of anything, really.

Meanwhile, I continue to check and monitor my checks. It seems they've taken a bit of a nose dive. Not sure what is going on. I will look into that and start pulling my prior paystubs and ask for a meet on what's going on.

I've also been checking out the holiday specials and got to take advantage of some really cool deals, involving free shipping an discounts of up to 20%. Can't complain.

Today at work was a simple affair. There was a retirement party for someone that not a lot of people liked, but the person was a strong worker and knew their stuff -- and pushed for others to step up their game which of course caused static. Makes you think why some choose to stay under the radar -- because the stress of dealing with people's insecurities and laziness can take its toll. The retired person looks radiant though, as if a burden has been lifted. They giggle now in the hallways and smile more. Because they have realized the joy of letting go. Caring too much can drain a person. And this person knows that despite what some may think of them, they will miss them when they are no longer here. They will miss that sense of care of quality control. And we will pay the price whether directly or indirectly. And as a result, our clients will also suffer. This is going to suck.

holidays and opportunities

Today is another cold day. I awoke early, but had a deep sleep. I watered the plants, had some breakfast, and relaxed, while watching television quietly. The dog took off after a while, and the day was blissfully quiet. I didn't even notice the sun setting. I ate a hot dog for an early dinner, as I didn't feel like cooking something more substantial. Plus, the living situation is such that going into the kitchen becomes a game of cloak and dagger to see who is doing what in the kitchen, despite my coming in with my own ingredients.

I have not bought the new stove yet -- been advised that a new stove should not be necessary, because no one else seems to care about getting a new one nor did anyone else offer to pitch in to help pay for it. I merely smiled, what else could I say? This is the life that others choose to lead, and a life I chose to let myself get mired in. It was up to me to pull myself out and get the hell out.

At the moment, I had yet to find the right opportunity for me. Until then, I continue to tread water and pay my bills.

Debated for a brief second whether I wanted to go out tonight and see a movie, just to get out and get some air, but the weather makes me think otherwise. Tomorrow I do my volunteer work, which will spur me into action to finish my errands and get ready for the work week. I have yet to figure out the rest of the Christmas gifts and only have so much time. This week's check will go to paying my phone bill and hopefully to pick up some gifts to put under the tree.

This will be a great holiday season. I just know it. Now I must check on some things before calling it a night. :-)

blog of note

How does one exactly become a blog of note? Does one have to amuse or entertain in order to be noticed? Does one have to express themselves in a certain way and spell correctly? What is it, exactly, does it take to be a blog of note?

I've checked some of these other sites. The only thing I notice is that they dressed up the backgrounds or added more pictures. It's not exactly something I'm interested in -- maybe that's why my blog isn't noticed.

Even in cyberworld with the blog-o-sphere, one can get ignored if they're not pretty enough.

Well, big fuckin- whoop. I don't care.

So...what did you do on your birthday?

Dear members of the slightly interested party --

Thank you for remembering my birthday and inquiring about my well-being. My birthday was a lovely evening spending dinner with loved ones, thank you. I enjoyed a delicious meal and even had dessert. I allowed myself a drink, and enjoyed the company I was with.

I was grateful to not have to spend my birthday alone. Instead I got to be in the presence of loved ones, those who love me. I am healthy and young. I even have a day job and a roof over my head. It's an OK life.

My new phone had died, and my old phone hadn't been recharged in two weeks, so as far as well-wishers contacting me, well, they would have to find another way to reach me. By the time I got home, I happily plugged in my new phone and the old one and took a shower and went to bed. It was late and I had work the next day.

When I awoke, it was no longer my birthday and I awoke full of dreams. I checked my phones and found your messages on both phones. That was very sweet of you to remember.

Although I do wonder -- were you hoping that I was alone or with someone else?

Oh well. Who cares?

On to better things.

another turn of what the ?

A friend writes me that "we have to hang out" and that it's "been so long". I write back saying, "well, how about dinner sometime next week?" The friend agrees, then gives availability as being Wednesday and Friday. Wednesday is no good for me, so I agree to Friday. Thursday comes, and I'm already thinking this person's going to cancel. Because they've flaked before. Numerous times. Too many times to mention. Yet, this person wants to meet. OK. Will give them yet another benefit of the doubt.

I say nothing. Friday morning comes and goes, and we're hitting to a little before noon. Nothing from this person. I decide to text a what's up and are we still on? Didn't hear anything for a good hour or so. Then the person writes almost tersely, "I'm at work. May have to postpone as I have to pack." I recalled the person had taken the time out when they reached out to me last week to squeeze in that little detail that they were heading out of town for some much needed time off.

Perhaps that was just to show off? I thoughtfully replied back, "OK. Have a good trip."

I was not about to get dramatic or make an accusation that basically the idiot forgot that they had made plans. Plus it was just a gut thing. An instinctual response. Perhaps they really had to fly out early morning next day, and didn't want to get mired in dinner and possible couple of drinks. That's fine. We're all adults. Plus, waiting til last minute to pack, that can always cause extra undue stress. Procrastination is a bitch, I get it.

Next day, I had to run some errands and get some laundry done. The bedsheets were overdue for a cleansing and a changing. So I took two loads of it down -- two sets of bedsheets, comforters and pillowcases to wash. While waiting for stuff to clean then dry, I texted asking if they were already traveling.

The person answers they didn't have a flight at that time but later in the day. 4:30 pm. I thought about that for a second. So...they didn't have an early morning rush to anywhere. Packing takes what, about an hour, two tops? If laundry needs to be done, then four hours easy.

Even if they went to bed early, and slept in til 10 am, they could've still got the laundry done, and be out the door and at the place to travel in plenty of time to spare without breaking a sweat.

I did not say anything. That confirmed it to me -- the person had simply forgot they had made these plans with me. I decided I was going to lay low. There was a reason why I didn't ever go searching for this person, because I saw the pattern they tended to encourage and develop with others, making others seems desperate and jumpy to see them. "When am I going to see you? I'm in town Tuesday through Friday, let's get together any time you want!" writes one desperado. Another writes, "I haven't seen you in so long! When can we meet up?" Another writes, "You wait until I get to Jersey to tell me you were home cooking! OH well! Another time I guess."

It's a sweet ploy, leading others to believe that you are so busy that your time is so precious that you blow off people and leave them begging and asking for face time with you. Life's way too short for mindfuck games, in my opinion.

If you don't want to hang with me, I'm not going to stress it nor stress you. Fuck that. I only want to hang with those who truly like me and want to hang out with me, not to have me around for their fucking amusement so they could feel superior.

Let's just say that the days of this person trying to dick me around for their amusement are clearly numbered.

First soup of the season

After seeing people at home coming down with some kind of cold, possibly, even flu, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I went and pulled out a soup pot, filled it with water to the halfway point, added one healthy looking potato, chopped down to smaller pieces, and put the pot onto the stove and turned on the flame to low. I then threw on my coat and went downstairs to gather some stuff. At the vegetable stand, I gathered some lovely crisp celery, some fresh deep green cilantro, a couple of packets of fresh carrots and a big beautiful yellow onion and some garlic, prepeeled and in a bag. After looking around for anything else to put in the pot, I went to the register, had it rung up, and went home, to start peeling, chopping, cutting and slicing the vegetables to add to the soup. I kept the onion separate, and diced it up to put in a separate pan to sweat them a little, along with some freshly chopped garlic. I put a whole small bag of peeled garlic into the soup, some chopped, some whole, into the mix. I used all the celery but only a little bit of the cilantro. After heating up the onions and cooking them, they started to get transparent. I added some salt, then after tossing them, put them into the soup, which already had the rest of the ingredients in there. Then I checked every half hour or so, with the soup on low flame, to watch it bubble away and soften the veggies. I noted the liquid got a bit thicker, thanks to the potato. After about four hours, I knew it was ready.

I tasted it. It was fantastic. I knew the longer it sat on the stove cooking away, the more the flavors of the vegetables would come out and really compliment each other and blend well. It was tasting more and more like a great soup. A healing soup. I focused on that thought. Heard the front door and realized some family had come home. "Hmmmm," I heard one of them say. The soup kept on bubbling away and I kept checking it, tasting it.

I realized I did not buy fresh baked bread, which would have completed this soup to perfection. But it would do. I finally think the soup is ready. The liquid is thick, but not too, but perfect for me. The carrots and potato look soft, juicy and pliant. The smell is incredible, rich, aromatic, homey. I honestly did a double-take -- did I smell anise? Perhaps that is the onions, that carmelized and sweetened in the soup after softening in the pan.

While I'm not a big soup person, I actually liked this. Simple. Classic. Hearty. Filling. Had some regular soft white bread with it -- I realize that it's not the same as the thick crusty bread that should have been with this. Hmmm. But good nevertheless.

It was nice to make something on the old stove. Next week, I shop for the new one.

augh

Awoke from dreams to cramps. AUGH. Swallowed some ibru and put off running errands today. Feel sluggish and crampy, not a very good combination. Did make a phone call and got my phone order in. Other than that, the shopping will have to wait for next week. I'm happy, because everything's coming together. This year will end on a relative high note.

Outside it's cloudy and dark and grey. I'm inside, curled up with my dog, which is just as well.

Interesting, I got a conflicting edits error notice. Who the hell else would have access to this? This is the place where I get to vent, to just let it out and then move on. This is the cheap version of getting a therapist, which can get costly and that's another headache I don't want or need right now.

Went to run errands. Tomorrow I do some volunteer work before coming home and doing laundry and getting ready for Monday. I noticed for the past couple of days something was missing, and then it suddenly appears as this one nonchalantly comes and plunks it back in the place I would've expected it to be all along.

So I know I'm not losing my mind. It's simply when things get moved, it's because this one makes it so, and lends out when they want to, instead of the cheap bastards this one is enabling...oops, helping, can buy their own shit. If you got money to eat and hang out, then you got money to buy your own shit. What the fuck, I'm not your grocery store, this second hand bullshit is retarded and fucked.

looking to preserve my serenity and sanity

The past few days I've found myself talking more about the job, and there's not much of a sounding board to go use, simply because I don't have that kind of thing going on. I found myself trying to work it out in the shower, just so I wouldn't have to bother anybody with my concerns and experiences on the job. It is a day job, I keep reminding myself, and I'm there to take care of what I really want in life. I want to do a good job and be a good employee, but at the same time, it's also to take care of what I need.

So just trying to work that balance. The holidays are rapidly approaching and I am staying focused.

Wilmington has suffered loss of thousands of jobs and the best that some of these celebrities do is offer some free comedy shows and a dinner? And if you don't have a job and are homeless, you have to come with some ID or proof that you "live" in Wilmington and in a certain zip code?

Then the spokesman comes with a half-ass apology, stating that although they know this won't solve the economic situation, it's at least something. Are you kidding?

Racheal Ray, move your business to Wilmington. That'll get some people there working again. Jay Leno, why don't you air your show from there? Bet it doesn't sound as glam as, say, New York or Los Angeles, but heyyyy...that'll show you really put your money where your so called concerned mouth is.

Until then, you don't have people like Brad Pitt beat by a long shot. Or Oprah.

why are we giving adulterers air time?

I am so sick and tired of people going on t.v. saying yes, they were involved with a married or recently separated high profile person, and yes, they knew they were married, or that the person was television and had kids...yes....but they are hurting when they get dumped and go on t.v. to air that they 'aren't the bad guy'. Oh yes, my dear, you most certainly are.

And explaining yourself while saying "like, like, like" is certainly not going to make you appear intelligent, composed or mature. You are a baby and can't let go of your recently departed adolescence, go on t.v. to whine and cry that people call you ugly or all kinds of names.

You are over 18 and not a child anymore. NO more parents running with a bandaid to solve a boo-boo. This is the adult world and you will get hurt and you will have to handle your shit right and deal.

This is ridiculous.

leap of faith

Today after doing some volunteer work, I went to check out some fashion and go window shopping. After that, I wandered into Chinatown. The weather was a lovely early fall day, sunny, blue sky, and I was in no hurry to go home. Besides, home is subjective, anyway.

I went to eat some fresh tasty dumplings, cheap, 5 for $1. Then I went to buy some candy and pick up art supplies as I walked, dodging tourists and traffic in the narrow winding streets. By the time I got to the train station, my legs were tired. I had been standing on my feet for several hours anyway and it was time to relax a bit.

As I scrawled some notes on my city observations, I let two trains pass me by, picking up passengers on the way. I felt at peace, alone yet not, in this city that is all I know, and all I am.

By the time I got on the train and took a moment to look for the time, it was 2:30. I had thought it was much later than that, more like 4:30. Getting home, I took my time, enjoying the sunshine.

When I got home, I was greeted with a comment like are you having a better day, are you feeling better. I felt better. Because I gave myself space and permission to vent. No one else could.

petty assholes

I go out in the fucking rain in order to get dinner. Spend my hard earned money for a job I give two shits about in order to start saving for my career, pay down my debt, and move out for good.

And what happens? So and so comes in with a small plate of food from a person who could not summon the energy for close to a year to cook. Someone who is petty, vindictive, and a user -- and family. So suddenly this person is up for cooking when they see a paycheck coming in?

I already let so and so know that I have zero interest in eating any food this person may suddenly start creating as I suspected that this person might. Each time I was able to predict with 100% accuracy what this person's behavior was and what they were going to do.

Then we flash forward to so and so being an idiot and continuing to push for saint of the century by being everybody's friend and not wanting to upset anybody. I went in the fucking rain for the food. I went in the fucking rain because we were in agreement, at least I thought we were, about whether to take any fucking handouts from the vindictive petty one again.

Of course, so and so wonders why they haven't been able to get the petty one out of the house. Because they've enabled the petty one to death. But hey, blood is thicker than water, right? Let's let them step all over us, run the show, run our lives, simply because the petty one squatted you out?

Not all mothers are mothers. Anyone can give birth. The mother part comes from actually nuturing and taking care of you, looking out for you, putting your needs above one's own. Yet I don't see that here, there's certainly no history of that here. And yet, the blood calls. Blood is thicker than water to justify being abused and taken advantage of.

This is why as time has gone on, I have totally lost interest, have become actually disappointed and now repulsed by the bullshit that is allowed to occur simply because of relations.

This is total bullshit. And I hope so and so finds someone who likes being made a carpet as much as so and so does because by doing what so and so is doing, and then harping on another relative who is using tough love tactics on this same petty person by saying "good luck, I tried, it doesn't work" tells me that the only difference is that this other person actually has a more healthier sense of self and is actually concerned about the petty one getting off their haunches and getting a life of their own so they are not a burden to the family or anyone else for that matter.

There's nothing wrong with this. Yet it scares so and so to death. So and so likes to have people dependent on them, makes them feel important and useful.

I am so fucking done. If I could come into some major funds, I'd be out of here and out of their lives in a heartbeat because so and so simply doesn't want to understand that in order to have their own life, they have to claim it and if it means putting so called user family 'over there' at a distance, so be it. But so and so won't do it no matter how much so and so is put upon. So and so likes being abused and can't imagine a life doing anything else to the point that they can only think of suicide if things WERE to get worse. So and so cannot imagine just getting their own life, this is way too scary for her.

I'm glad I was able to write this down because I was actually angry about this tired old topic we keep dancing about on. It's time to take that old record off and find a new one.

Although my tactic is: if you are a mean spiteful turd to me, I will give you exactly what you dish out and you will eat it. Fuck you.

Moving out and moving on

An announcement: Next year it's moving out year.

After waiting for over three years for someone else in the house to move, and them squawking they were going to, and hearing about them going back and forth to get papers processed, and borrowing cars to go looking half-heartedly at places and finding things wrong with every single last little few of them, the person has effectively made sure they screwed up finding something they can live in by themselves and have continued to squat here, while paying only a third of the rent.

Between me and another, we pay over half the rent. And it seems I'm right back where I started. My projects are to clean up my credit, help someone get on their feet along with me, and then say thank you and move on. Being stuck is not what I am interested in being, and I am tired of having to play second third fourth fiddle. I purposely did not have kids because I know how the attention must change to accomodate and focus on them.

So now I have to stop selling myself short, which is what I'm doing. I don't know what anyone else is doing, but I'm tired of waiting. Just tired. I am helping where I can, and once those things are in place, I am gone. To struggle. Alone. Again.

I'm better off.

busy day low energy

This morning I was hit with a wave of sudden dizziness and had to sit down, and wait for the spell to pass. Lucky I had a few minutes to spare, and for a moment, seriously considered getting a cab. By the time I picked up the phone to dial, the moment had passed, and I was feeling better. I had shrugged out of my pea coat by then and as I stirred, switched back to my black trenchcoat and scarf, praying it wasn't too cold out. The weather on t.v. stated it was 38 degrees. Winter weather and not even Halloween.

I took some ibru and continued to gather strength to get ready. By the time the cool crisp air hit my face in the street, I was feeling much better and steadier on my feet. It wasn't for another hour or so when the cramps began, but I had already taken the ibru so it' didn't hit as hard. By the time 1:00 pm rolled around, I had to take a refresh on the ibru and then had lunch, a light salad and some ginger ale. The afternoon went quickly.

I am ready to call it a night. Didn't sleep well last night and now I have cramps. Augh.

are you bored?

I was asked at my new job whether I was not finding this position challenging. I said it was fine, why did they ask? They apparently have had people get quickly bored and wanted to know my thoughts. I smiled and said I was currently still learning minute details about the position as I went along, and wasn't bored. I also advised that I was willing to help out in any way I can as long as it didn't affect the main reason for my being there. I got a nod, and a listen, but not much feedback, because apparently no news is good news according to the person I was talking to. "Is there anything I could be looking at to improve on?" I asked, "Have you received any feedback?" The answer was no and that there was no feedback. ??? Nothing good or bad? No. So I have no idea. I don't know how I feel about that, it seems shady, quite frankly. Get to the point. Maybe there isn't any.

It was interesting how my interviewer's face seemed to fall a bit when I replied to their question of whether I'm bored with that I wasn't, there was always something to do and I was still learning. "Do you feel comfortable working alone?" I was asked. "Yes," I said, simply. It was true. I wish I could know what flew through the interviewer's mind.

It's a paycheck. I do my job as well as possible and go home. No worries. So let's see what happens.

Keeping things hidden

The battle begins as far as how much I should say and not say. I watch as I see people spinning out of control with their frustrations. I know that a lot of them have worked together for a long time. I can't honestly say that I'll be there forever -- can I be content working there for, say, a decade or until retirement? I honestly can't say that. I believe in taking things one day at a time. I am not interested in getting involved in being frustrated on someone not coming through in a timely manner.

I'm on borrowed time. This money is to go to what I want to do -- pay off my debt, stabilize my credit, take some classes and save for my real creative pursuits. I just have to stay focused, and not allow the drama to suck me in.

I just remembered I have to do something, on my creative side!

work behaviors

Today I had to deal with the inevitability that comes from working in an office. The "I don't want to do work so I pawn it off to someone else by feigning ignorance or overwhelmness" routine. I have someone who is designated as my backup but who has not been very helpful in training me in any way. Anything that is given to them immediately gets an "I was trained but can't remember" or "I don't use this all the time so I don't know" or "I don't know, call so and so" who in turn tells me in an aggravated frustrated tone that this backup indeed knows but just doesn't want to be bothered with doing it.

Not knowing what to do, I am left with a growing concern that I have little to no backup that will be reliable let alone efficient. Others who have other responsibilities are being pulled to cover for this person and I don't know why.

It is time to have a pow-wow with my boss to see how the power lines flow and what can be done regarding the backup who doesn't want to be the backup. It will not be an easy talk as I don't like confrontation (most people do not like to be advised on what they could improve upon) so this will be interesting.

I am in training the next several days so I don't have the time to do some things, and this backup is to take care of it and is again playing overwhelmed and dumb on something they had indicated they had prior training on but just couldn't remember as they didnt' use it a lot. I'm going to suggest this person goes on refresher courses and be further utilized to keep the person in 'remember' mode.

Letter to Whitney

I watched the Oprah two parter with her interviewing Whitney.

It merely confirmed what I already suspected. You don't need to live with someone in their home to know certain things ring true.

She obviously still loves her ex-or soon to be ex husband.

She still wants others to tell her what to do.

She exchanges one addiction for another. Whether it's someone else having control over her, or getting off the drugs and....she mentioned that she 'never drank' but she's picking up a 'glass' here and there. Hmmmm...

She will not own her addictions. She still has not yet even acknowledged that she LIED in that infamous interview that she did not "do crack". Yet she plays semantics with saying "cocaine crack". The crack part rushed out of one side of her mouth. Ummmm. Ok. Crack is crack baby, and you SMOKED it with weed, which explains...the most apparent devastation. But I'll get to that in a minute.

She did not apologize to her mom, her fans, to Oprah or Clive. She has stopped short of saying this, but she essentially said fuck you to her fans and the music industry and to Clive and went to go be married while rumors of her being gay were swirling madly. She has yet to even address Robin and whether or not she was involved with her or not. If you are going to set the record straight, Whitney, then SET THE RECORD STRAIGHT. Be an open book. Shit or get off the pot.

Back to the crack cocaine and weed devastation. Most apparent? Her voice. She said fuck you to her voice, the 'gift that God gave her' by all the cocaine/crack/weed smoking she did. That explains the surgeries and voice doctors that were trying to clean her up. It's why she sounds like she has a nasty cold when she talks and her singing sounds rough and choppy. She said fuck you to God. She turned her back because she was so angry, I guess. I would be too if I had to give up what I wanted for "appearances". I recall her ex saying something that Whitney seemed to see herself a certain way and didn't understand that music is a business. I have to find the exact quote but it was very telling and intelligent and dead on.

There was a lot of money at stake for Ms. Whitney. Whether the ex was a convenient foil, I'm sure he got his money's worth too. Maybe he really did love her, maybe he was just tired of being her paid beard or the snickers from the females and gay crowd who believed they knew better, I don't know. It sounds like a lot of denial went on in that house of hers and they were both hurt, angry and tired...and not getting any younger. Time was passing and their child was growing up and seeing way too much for years. I'm sure the anger sex was dynamite. At least we know they had one encounter, because they have a child. The ex has said this was to shut everybody up. I don't know. A lot of lesbians can get pregnant and carry a child and give birth too. It doesn't change anything Whitney.

I agreed with Wendy W. talking on her show about Whitney not owning her addiction to drugs. I don't always agree with Wendy but I was wondering the same thing and everyone was too busy to prop tired ol' Whitney up to say anything that might be perceived as negative. I mean, come on, Clive in the audience? What was the old creaky man going to do, catch her if she fell off the stage due to a dizzy spell on methadone? Give me a break.

Whitney's got a longggg way to go as far as recovery. And I think she's doing this just to say thank you but not necessarily to get a career up and running again. Those days are over. Even if you say to us, "oh, I'm going to be here a long time and keep making music because it's what I love to do and I want to show that I mean business on getting healthy and making money," or whatever, the bottom line is, you are done. Your voice is permanently destroyed. You are done. The doctors and Clive did the best they can. But you are done. Get better for yourself and your child, not for your fans or Oprah. Thank you for letting us know you are working on that but just go honey, and your fans are going to just have to be fans from afar and get a life of their own.

And don't tell me, Oh, we can relate to Whitney because we've had troubles/drug problems/spit on me shit happen. You and Whitney will never relate because you have never made her money, had her career or had her life. You don't know and you will never know so therefore, if seeing her drugged up or abused makes you feel somewhat comforted that you have something in common, YOU need to get yourself committed to the funny farm and fast. I am so done with this Jerry Springer era bullshit of where we laugh or are comforted in knowing people are 'worse off' than us.

And Oprah you chicken-shit, you didn't really push the tough questions on Whitney. Shame on you. But I know that Whitney wouldn't have come on if you were going to, and so...you all sit up and pray and just hope for the best. You did this as a favor to her and Clive and you are not fooling anybody. You know Whitney is basically a dead man walking. She doesn't have much time left on this planet.

What really scares me is her daughter is talking of a music career. Well, that and how Whitney's mom had to tell Whitney that enough was fucking enough. What if her mom was dead? Then what? Would she have stood up and walked out if not for herself then for her kid then? Don't think so. And that's sad. It makes me also aware of how repetitious the cycle of tragedy is. This girl comes from not one but BOTH PARENTS that are addicts. And she talks of how she is 'friends' or 'best friends' with Whitney and she's not even 18. You are not best friends with your mother. She is not your equal. That's how much growing up this child had to do -- how much living she had to do away from her mother because her mother was too busy trying to conform to everybody's notion of what her life and happiness should be.

If Whitney ever decides to come out, it would definitely explain all of this nightmare. Because a lot of people, when they fight against who they are because they are afraid of not being accepted (or losing money or a career out of the process) and they happen to come from a religious background, it's just a sad losing battle that either takes your mind, your heart, your soul or your body. Or some other innocent like your child in the process. You end up dead in a tragic way.

So heed the signs, Whitney. God will love you no matter what you are or who you love. And once you understand that, you can let go of your fear of others' preconceptions, and open up dialogue for others who are still struggling with their fears holding them back. You could be an inspiration on another level -- if you wanted to. Or you can simply take care of the few years left your child will need you -- then what?

I understand bills need to be paid, but this is what got you into your mess in the first place. I wonder how many of these "oh I love Whitney" fans would drop you in a hot second if they REALLY knew who you are -- and not that sweet commercial prepackaging that Clive put you in?

Take care anyways,

signed a Realist

I went into this weekend more hopeful and energetic than in some time. It's Sunday, and I'm just quiet, watching the weather change from sunny to threatening grey. I have not left the room in over three hours. I had taken a shower, eaten some cereal, and watered the plants before doing one last trip on the toilet and locked inside my room. Watching mindless television, although one segment I walked into late was how the Circ d' Soleil developed their Vegas show called LOVE with the Beatles music.

Now Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist is on. I can't imagine anyone feeling wistful or wanting to go back to that time when one's heart was so readily yanked and the cliques were all the more transparent than they were in high school. Yuck.

Tomorrow is Monday, the last day of the holiday weekend. I have yet to send a thank you note for the interview I had on Friday. It was rather short notice and I was out of breath by the time the interviews were over. Do I send a handwritten note or an email? Would an email be too impersonal? Ah, the worries.

I figure if I get really hungry for anything, I'll get inspired to know what that is. In the meantime, it's going on 5. There's not much else to do. Except to plan plan plan.

Outta whack

Tomorrow I have an early morning appointment with an agency that I've been playing time tag with. Today on a related but separate note, I get a phone call from another HR person that I've cultivated a business relationship with on my own that they were thinking of me regarding a job opening they had -- and they had gone on vacation, trying to remember my information and figuring when they got back they would have to check their files -- and then lo and behold they come back from vacation and had seen the email I sent as my check-in I sent the other day just to say hello and find out any new leads. They thanked me for even sending my updated resume. I laughed and said "that's it, that's a sign!" HR laughed too. They brought up another position too, so they're going to submit me to both. They both have not as complex responsibilities and the pay is lower than I'd like, (I may be considered "overqualified" -- one may even think I'll leave in 3 or 6 months -- unlikely, but there's no guarantee in life, is there?) but I consider it a good viable opportunity, as I explained, it would be in my neighborhood area, (meaning I cut down on transportation costs YAYYY me) and it's an organization I've been really wanting to work for, as they are well aware. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have been following up every other month as I have been.

So because of my diligence and periodic checking in, things seem to be looking up.

Between that and depositing the check today and doing laundry yesterday, things are starting to move forward. Started clearing up my room. Have to remind myself I have an actor-related class tomorrow hours after the interview. I should have tried to put in something else inbetween the morning meeting and evening meet so I don't waste the train ride, but what the hey. I have to wear a bit of a monkey-suit for tomorrow which will not be comfortable after a few hours going to the acting class. I'll figure something out.

Tonight I will need to check my grooming and take a quick shower because I will need to be ready and out the door for my 'lookee-loo" with this other agency. I'm walking in with nothing to lose. Let's see how it goes.

Meanwhile, my eating patterns have been kind of wonky but I've been sleeping well for a change. Had a dream where this pink/peach home was where people I knew were hanging out, and spanish music was playing, I think, salsa music. And I was trying to find the way in, as I was being greeted by others. Hmm. Wonder what it meant.

My stomach's acting up. AUGH! I tried to eat light today but I was hungry. So now I have to pay for it. Yuck!

Fighting the urge to break something. Or break something over someone's head.

It's frustration, really. For a number of reasons and none.

Why is it that a simple smile and gentle tease get someone to think you got the hots for them?

Why is it that a simple request to meet for an interview turns into a power play as to who is available when?

Why is it that you ask me what dates I'm available for, I give them to you, and you still go for an alternate day? What passive-aggressive b.s. is that? Why bother asking? Just tell me what days you are available and cut the crap.

Why is it that you want to give the air that you are so busy that you don't dare give your availability days as if to prove you are?

Here's an example:

"What days are you available next week to interview?"

"Monday and Tuesday, any time."

"How about Thursday?"

"I am not available. How about the following Monday?"

"No. Are you employed?"

What kind of question is that to ask? As if I would have nothing better to do if I was not employed to come when called like some fucking dog. I resist the urge to tell this person off, because I knew they were making a catty point. And this meet is not a guarantee of any kind, just a courtesy call at best. Some courtesy. I call them for what they are, a lookee-loo. Which means I'll be wasting another $4.50 of my precious money to go through the motions of filling out an application with information my resume already has supplied to them, further wasting my time, money, energy and now, ink. Instead, I do a classic passive aggressive move that I always hated someone else doing when I had asked them a direct question -- ignore their question with providing my own:

"Can you provide alternate dates that don't land towards the end of the week?" I counter.

The person comes up with Wednesday @ 10 am, despite the fact I was clear that I had nothing available beyond Tuesday of that week. (remember I offered Monday and Tuesday) and the day before they wanted to see me (they had picked Thursday).

They are not in a rush and making it clear and are hoping I am. While I am eager to work, desperation has gotten me into more jams than I care to admit or get into again. This is something that perhaps this agency is counting on. However, I can't afford desperation tactics, and I have no track record with them and I'm only going by a fellow acquaintance's referral not by the company's reputation if they have one so it's a wash.

Do I blink and take the day even though I already stated I'm not available for it? Or do I write and say that I will take the day they offer, end the power play and simply allow for the waste of time? And I assume waste, because if they really thought I was something, they would have accomodated me somehow.

Well, we'll see. I have some time to think about it.

Right now I'm doing laundry, preparing for the long weekend ahead. My volunteer work will not be in play, so I am in for one long uneventful weekend, staring at people who don't make my life any easier to deal with.

It's another crappy grey day. It's Monday. And there's no money coming in.

change...resistance is futile

It's easier to give up. If you surrender, then things can change.

At least that's what I'm trying to convince myself.

Looking for money in all places

While I keep seeing commercials for "cash for clunkers" (amazing how people aren't motivated by money, they claim they want to help the environment, but yet could have just bought a more environmentally friendly car and chose not to), I continue to look for ways to make money.

Came across an ad for WebMD, where one can be diagnosed if one claims to be depressed. If I already know what's wrong with me why exactly would I need ot take a test? The flip side of that is, once I prove I am indeed depressed, I MAY get an audition for some kind of health segment. The money sounds lovely. The issue I have is, they will be be able to poll a lot of people regarding their personal information, which could be priceless or at least more expensive to have than just bringing in some people to audition for two minutes each.

In any case, I'm relaxing and going to take a shower in a few in order to get ready for my afternoon appointment. I'm also waiting to hear back on one temp (open ended) gig, and got information on another agency that another person advised they already got a temp gig out of.

I'm off to suss out more money.

It's only 12:10 but I'm already working to stop the pacing in my head. Simply because of finances.

Worrying won't make things better or change things. I'm tired of punishing myself mentally when things don't go right or things get delayed.

It's just wasted energy. I've played with the idea to send my resume on to get looked at, without charge, by having a friend review it. They probably will have no idea what to do about it since they never worked as an assistant.

Meanwhile, I've been sleeping like a champ. Having weird dreams, waking up thinking I was already awake. Grinding my teeth. Augh. Not a good sign.

opposites don't attract

What happens when you realize someone is deliberately saying the opposite of everything you say?

Well. Is it a sign of insanity?

Talked to M about getting involved with a person, and M seemed very aloof about it. M stated M wouldn't get involved, because they were traditional or more conservative.

Which of course, made me laugh. Because I've recalled instances where M had taken off with someone they just met that night and went home with them, as me as a witness. And I gently pointed out that they had on more than one occasion been less than conservative and had done some spur of the moment things when lust had grabbed them. They paused for a second to consider it, then admitted that they had. Like I needed them to admit that. I stated they could not be old fashioned if they had been a lot more impulsive than that.

"You reacted on your impulsiveness, not ignored it," I stated, and that was the end of that.

Was this person trying to re-write history yet again? It seemed at times that this person was used to re-writing their history as they saw fit -- usually the person that knew them ended up not knowing them anymore and they were no longer friends.

So there was no one to refute or deny any revision to M's life story. M could tell it any way they wished, and who was going to know?

Except as time passed, I was knowing a certain history, and as far as the instances of sexuality and attractiveness, I had been a casual observer. And the re-writes weren't going to happen with me.

M was someone who liked having relationships, light and uncomplicated, that wouldn't impinge on M's freedom to do as M pleased. Of course this meant that the person had to be special, someone who would be able to walk that fine line with M.

Depending on M's mood, that line could change.

There was a distancing with M. You weren't allowed to get too close. So if you don't mind being held at a distance, then M is your ticket to that aloof romance. Where things are pristine and don't get dirty or twisted, but don't get too close either. You can think whatever you want of M but it will be pure and unfettered, no strings attached.

Ask nothing of M that M can't handle. Too many rules may make M squirm and run. Treat M too lightly and M might just float away into another's arms. M likes attention and likes to be the one to walk away.

So sitting at a bar where M is acting amused while I get some attention was a little refreshing. Until the point was brought up about how M was so conservative and not into what these alcohol fueled dolts were proposing. "I just don't go off with anybody," M said all prim. I smiled, and immediately the thought came to mind of how M had indeed taken off with someone they barely knew after a dance or two on the dancefloor.

"Um, yes you have. I can recall quite a few times where you acted on impulse, my dear." I said, with a smile. Realizing I was incredulous at M's blatant lie. Or was it hypocrisy? Or just getting old that M simply forgot their sexual appetite?

"Ohhhhh...well. Yes." M's smile twitched. I watched as M's face changed from at first seemingly unaware of what they'd just said to the realization that yes, they had gotten some because I witnessed them in action.

"Hmmmm. Thought so." I thought.

When M saw me getting attention and enjoying it, it seemed to turn M off. Suddenly M was forgetting what they used to do and how I was not privvy to that kind of thing. Back then, I didn't mess around, I was looking for something more serious.

Yet here we were, several years later, and was M informing me the tables had turned? Can one go back to being a virgin? No, I don't think so.

I looked at M and realized that there was a creature who did this kind of thing. Who changed to reflect the situation they were in. Yet a part of me also sensed that this was deliberate, to be deliberately the opposite, that one of us had to be the practical one while the other was having fun and going dizzy. What would happen if we were ever on the same page. Suddenly I understood M, I had gotten to where M had gotten, and now M was putting on the brakes by taking the other side of where I had been.

I kept thinking that M was the other part of me. I can imagine this.

So if I'm being the opposite, that keeps me safe. That keeps me....distant.

Having unhealthy thoughts

Of course, I could say they are simply the thoughts of someone who is lonely, but my dreams have been pretty detailed. My mind wanders to illicit encounters, death, and I don't know what else. This morning woke up feeling stuffy, and it looks lilke I'm having an allergic reaction, most likely to mold, or dust. Will have to clean off my nightstand as it's looking pretty creepy there now.

T vaccuumed the floor and cleaned the filter in the air conditioner, just in case but it wasn't that dirty. I hate when I get like this, all sensitive to something in the air and it fucks me up. I'm trying to maintain positivity. I work later in the week and can't afford to get sick. AUGH!

So far no one has responded as to whether they will be working at the same gig I will be at, so I have no idea what to do. I figure I'll figure it out when I get there. It's only Jersey.

Will research how to get there since I have nothing else better to do.

going through a clear jellylike substance needing to break free

I know I will look back at all of this and laugh, laugh laugh.

Until then, it's no laughing matter.

Watched the sun rise and then...nothing

It looks like it's going to be a simply gorgeous day. I want to take a shower but feeling too lazy. Lucky for me I don't have to run to go to work in an office today. Oh well. One less paycheck to spend on silly things.

Next week is going to be busy and I'm thrilled. Trying not to give too much away because I don't want to jinx anything.

Male whiner on "can't get a date" so just shoot to kill.

A man goes on a shooting spree at one of those workout gym places where a bunch of women are at an exercise class -- he opens fire on the class, even shooting the instructor who was pregnant.

Managed to kill 3 women, pregnant woman hurt but alive.

So what was all this about? I flashed right away thinking this guy had a problem with women.

Guess I didn't need a fancy degree to figure that one out. Turns out the fool had trouble relating to women and couldn't get a date to save his life. So he decided to turn that anger into action. If a woman wouldn't say yes to him, he was going to hurt and kill them the same way he was feeling.

Dude, there are bigger issues out there needing fixing and not getting a date is not one of the priorities here. Life is too short to be miserable. You should have shot yourself and taken yourself out of your own misery.

I do not have any sympathy for someone who resorts to violence over something that is non-violent in nature. You learn to live on your own and get to love yourself first before you think someone else can love you. If you don't love yourself, how do you expect anyone else to? And in the end, you grow up and realize that your existence does not hinge on someone liking you or not. That's high school shit to think it does.

He wasn't a bad looking man, he probably had zero social skills or just wasn't very nice to people to begin with. In any case, he lives and three women died because of his social ineptness and misplaced anger. Anger towards women continue unabated even in this day and age. Sad.

darkness

had what i've read to be a dark night of the soul. i felt helpless, lost, depressed, frustrated, alone.

i wanted to know what this transition was all about. where was it going? was it going to end on a good note and open the doors to something better? i had no idea. it was like being one of those planes that line up behind another in the air, waiting for the OK to land. i was tired of being in the air, stuck up there, not moving, not going anywhere, just waiting, as if in suspension.

im aggravated and eager to move forward.

i woke up this morning with a pounding headache from falling asleep crying out of frustration and anger. i cancelled a meeting i had today because i felt miserable and didn't think i could share that kind of joy with another person. didn't want to rain on another's parade. so i pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep, head pounding away, jaw screaming to relax.

i woke up four hours later and found that the mail had been picked up and a check from an old gig was in the pile of mail. i looked at it, feeling a semi-smile coming on, then feeling bittersweet.

looking at the amount of that lowly check and for a gig that didn't even get mentioned in the check's re: line. It just says something like replaced as a notation, because i had never gotten the first check for the BG gig I did at 30 Rock. I wonder why it got held back and no one ever did tell me, all I got was a letter, that said under a list of companies held under one check company, that i may or may not have a check being held.

i called, they asked for my identification which i gave, but they offered no other take on where the check may've been or why it was delayed, because they had my full address to mail the stupid heads-up letter in the first place and it got to me just fine.

in any case, it's a nice little thing to have, it will go straight to the negative amount i owe for rent.

shit. T went to go visit some friends, and made some headway regarding possible job openings. I wonder if T went with copies of my resume. We went over it late last night during my frustration rant.

Don't feel like eating. Was left with some chocolate chip cookies, the soft kind that I like from Entemann's. I snacked on those and had a soda to boost my energy level.

i look at the daily calendar i have listed on this blog and it's pushed to a month ahead, to September. is that a sign or indicator of when things will finally pick up and for the better? the other night the computer calendar listed another different YEAR. Don't know what's going on with my computer, it's acting glitchy. Maybe a trojan? Fuck.

We'll see what happens next.

money, choices and life decisions

So money's tight. Again. And again.

Shit.

I've been applying for all kinds of jobs in hopes that something will open up for me. What else can I do, roll up and die?

Next week is another week. I work next week a three day possibly four day stint. I have to look at this as positive and just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

A part of me knows I'm not alone, and I want to continue to be as supportive of others as they have been to me. I keep wanting to hear more good thoughts and good news.

Haven't been sleeping well. Breaking nights for over a week. I know it's because I'm worrying over the finances. I have to continue to take one step at a time and not falter, not look down just straight ahead.

honesty and cash flow

Broke night. Watched the sun rise. Again. I should be grateful I'm getting to see these as I'm not up to see the sun come up very often. It's during times like a sunrise or sunset where one ponders one's humanity, their success and failings, frailty, and beauty.

However, it also means one's awareness is not very sharp and I walked around today in a bit of a fog. I was hungry but did not really register the food except for the tangy sharpness of the ketchup as T and I finished brunch today after T's doctor's appointment.

T handed me two twenty dollar bills along with the bill that had been written up by the waiter and walked out of the place to wait for me. There was a little line, with two people ahead of me and the cashier was nowhere to be seen. After a minute, she came forward and collected from one, then as she counted the money, I could see she was rushed. The other lady who was waiting said, "Oh, you can go ahead," and I said, "I am waiting until she is done with this prior order," as the woman was still doublechecking the money in her drawer before closing it after giving the other customer their change. The other lady said she had to pay with a credit card which is why she was telling me to go ahead.

Then the cashier took my bill and the two twenty dollar bills, peered at the bill, then went to count out change. She handed it back to me, and I proceeded to give a $5.00 bill to the waiter and then walk out with two bills and some change and handed it to T. Turns out later the bills were one dollar bills each and I had been shortchanged $10.00.

We came home and then shortly thereafter I finally went to sleep. When I awoke around 6:10-6:15 from my nap, I was immediately told of the missing change from T. Luckily I had grabbed a menu on the way out so we had the number to the place. I called, and T walked out, and muttered that never mind we'll probably never see the money again. For $10.00, the cashier would know if the till was over, I countered, and let the phone ring.

After speaking briefly to a man there, I asked to speak to the lady cashier. I asked if she was there working around 1 pm to 2 pm today. She immediately got on and admitted she was the only one who worked the register today. I gave her my name and explained about the $10.00 and she stated that she did not handled the counting out of the drawer, that the owner did, and that she didn't know if the owner had counted out or not as she was not sure of the times when it was done. I asked for hers and she didn't give it. She did state she was the only one who handled the drawer.

She stated I could call back tomorrow. I asked if I could leave my name and number and when the drawer was counted, if it was over $10.00 could they call me. She then mentioned about the manager being there, and I patiently waited for her to finish her thought as english was not her first language. I asked if I could speak to the manager if the manager was there now. She paused, then said OK. She also added that this was the first call for today, that there had been no one else calling about the overage and no other complaints. That didn't assure me too much.

The manager got on after I heard her briefly explain the situation in another language. Then he got on, I greeted him with hello he answered hello back. I asked if he was the manager and he said yes. I asked his name and he said Angelo. I gave him my name and proceeded to tell him my story and about the till possibly being $10.00 over. He listened, then said the register had already been counted out at 3. I asked 3 in the morning or in the afternoon? He responded 3 pm today. So I said "then you can tell me if the till is over." He said yes. So I asked if it was, and he didn't answer straight away. He instead said I could come over tomorrow morning around 9 (which T reminded me would be their busiest time) and talk to another manager named Alex who would be there to help settle the matter.

I went, OK, and then said, "could I leave my name and number and have Alex call me tomorrow to see if the money's there for sure instead of me making a trip out there?" And Angel assured me that I should just come by, no worries. I said, OK, although that was all weird about his not really answering the question of whether the till was over or not.

So I said OK and we said goodbye and hung up. I went to look for T who had since disappeared during the five to ten minute conversation. I took down the names of Angel and Alex onto the menu I had of theirs and wanted to share the news. T was nowhere to be found. I went back to my room and texted a "hey where are you?" kind of a text. Three minutes later, I heard the front door unlock and T and my dog sauntered in.

I quickly gave T the update and T had no confidence we would get the money back and said to let it drop. I countered that it is $10.00 not a dollar, and that the owner wouldn't have insisted on my coming by just on the off chance the money may or may not be there. The money was there, and the manager probably wanted to downplay it without saying outright they screwed up. "I asked him if I could leave my name and number and have Alex call me back so I wouldn't have to take a trip over there, and Angel said it's OK that Alex would take care of it, so that tells me that they probably just want to doublecheck it by checking me out to see if I'm legit or not. The lady cashier who was the only one there and our waiter may remember me, so...(I'm sure the trip will not be in vain)."

T expressed doubt, but the conversation was finished. I will take the walk tomorrow morning since I'll most likely be awake. I've broken night several times. I just pray I can be more focused and the conversation is positive.

Rain rain

The weather has decided to go schizo and vary from raining hard to sunshine then darkening and rain again in a matter of two hours time.

Went to a gathering where there was free food and drink. Got some business cards but doubt if they'll remember me as they were given when they were pretty smashed.

Tomorrow is another day.

ten minutes

I've always said that I'm not afraid of death. Only how I was going to die -- I did not want it to hurt or be violent. Perhaps curiosity. The notion that I no longer have to deal with the day in day out of "does the casting director or cute man across the room like me?" and paying bills. Growing old, dealing with the grey hairs and wrinkles and the creaking and cracking of bones that some of us get rewarded with after decades of living inside our bodies.

I missed by ten minutes someone being attacked/mugged. It didn't go well, and there was a blood curdling scream. In ten minutes a woman got beaten then stabbed. As I approached the building, there were several cops around along with the building security and several neighbors huddled amongst themselves according to clique.

As I rode the elevator, I realized there was blood spatter on the elevator walls and drops of blood on the floor. I pointed them out to T and T was horrified. I wanted to distance myself, as if it were an episode of CSI, blood spatter, blood drops. I imagined the woman was not attacked on her floor but in the elevator. How others heard the screams from so many floors up kind of surprised me.

I've seen a person killed in front of me. You think at first that you are watching an episode or something on television. Your brain tells you this is not real. You don't want to think or believe it is real. I advised T that someone has to clean down the elevator. T recoiled. Me, not so much. The danger had passed. This was just what was left. The worst part had been taken away, taken off or removed.

Maybe it will come to me full force later. I don't know. I just know there were some lookee-loos, but I want to know, who came immediately to help, not to be nosy?

tough day

Today was a tough day. I had absolutely no energy. I can't imagine going anywhere or doing anything. It's going on 6 pm.

Meanwhile my garden looks absolutely fantastic, green and lush and wonderful. Is it a reflection of my life? I don't know. I'm not unhappy but I'm not happy either. But I am contributing to the world, so that has me satisfied. I just want to get myself on the right track and not give up hope.

Survival

When I think about where I'm going or what I'm doing or how the hell did I get here, it can be dizzying. Or upsetting. Or I have moments of wonderment and awe, depending on where my grit and tenacity levels are. I got things done simply by ignoring the laughing and pushed past the bullshit to get what I needed and get where I had to go. The gumption hasn't been there in a while and now I'm trying to find it within me yet again.

I listen to the daily horoscopes, done in spanish, and try to translate for funsies or have a friend translate for me so I get the fullest meaning possible.

My worry is that I will not outrun the darkness. I like the light, I love the sun. The energy. Sometimes I wonder how much fight I have left in me. I worry about money and about my luck and health. Then I feel a little nudge, and a little pep enters my step. "Hey, luck is coming your way," I hear a whisper, clear as a bell. Is that my inner voice or outer angel?

Vaya con dios.

We all wrestle with the angel or with ourselves. And there are times we win and surprise ourselves. We gain strength and confidence to move forward each passing day. I just put one foot in front of the other as I watch others lose balance and fall. I try to help where I can but I realize I need all the help I can get.

And another loses the battle.

Dreams and family relations

Yesterday my sister popped into my head. The one I called a sister, even though techincally we were not blood related. But I found that a very minor insignificant point. She did not, however. And there was a deliberateness to her separating.

We haven't spoken to each other in over a year simply because she cannot come clean with her sneaky actions. She and I had a falling out because I knew she was not being truthful and was deliberately interrupting people's lives over it. She chose to have her girlcrush intact as opposed to realizing she needed to wake the fuck up and live the life she chose and created. She did not have a gun pointed at her head but wants to have her cake and eat it too like the spoiled five year old she is.

To say I am still very annoyed and angry about her soap opera games is putting it mildly. The disappointment in me screams. Yet from time to time, she will pop in my head, and I miss her. And that just makes me more angry. Because she did this to herself and was willing to throw me under the bus for some stupid fantasy.

So this morning I awoke to a dream where I saw my godchild and realized how tall she'd gotten. She still looked the same, but had gotten taller and we were sitting at my mother's house. Somehow T and C got to visit her and bring her to visit me. It was like, my sister trusted them to bring my godchild to me. I found that rather odd.

All I kept thinking was how big she'd gotten. I was in awe mixed with a bit of sadness.

Then I was at some bus stop, had reached a destination and finished my visitation and needed to get on another bus to go home and went to buy my ticket and find my bus. Then I woke up. Interesting.

Mantra

Repeat to myself: I do not work for free. I volunteer for what I want to work with or on. But I do not work for free.

Hating ones self equals no kind of real love

The shingle is out, the advice is free. What more can one ask for?

Today I am addressing the woe is me. Especially when it comes to the subject of love and telling the truth. The problem is, most people demand it but can't really handle it. The truth can hurt, it can sting, it can destroy a person's fragile self-esteem. Now mix a demand for the truth with someone whose ego clearly hinges on what you will or will not say and you know you are damned either way. The issue then becomes, do you let them go down in flames alone or have them take you with them?

Hence why a lot of people simply won't discuss further why things aren't working out or are no longer viable. Times change, people change. What was fine six months or a year ago isn't going to work now. Yet some people are not willing to change or want things to stay the same. They forget to communicate or lull themselves into a false sense of security. The thing is -- security is an illusion. We are human, we are alive, and things must move forward or die.

The dying part scares every single person out there.

Today was the post that got me, why someone hates their true self. I found this very telling.

If you hate yourself or certain parts of yourself that are part of your 'true self' - how do you expect others to be attracted or stay attracted to you? "Why can't you tell me the truth?" demands this hurt soul, positioning themselves as someone who is truthful and wants it from others....yet clearly can't see that they don't. No one wants to lower the boom on anyone, unless they've got a natural mean streak in them.

In the end, a lot of people simply just want to walk away and move on, the less damaging things said the better. The explanation is going to hurt, and sometimes there is no explanation, no simple one anyway. It's just that things change, people change, and that means it's time to move on. Yet for these simple poetic souls, they want closure, they want an explanation, they want it to be more complex than it needs to be. "What's wrong with me?" they wail. There may be nothing wrong.

However, you cannot control whether another person stays or goes. That is their decision to make. Communication is key, definitely. But in the end, both have to be willing to communicate and listen to the other and want to work at it.

I think of my past experiences. And each one, whether painful, embarrassing, long or short, were valuable learning lessons. I learned what I would accept and not accept, I learned where my limits were, and learned to create boundaries, and how to better communicate with a guy. I learned what guys were not worth a second glance and to trust my gut more. I learned what questions to ask, learned how to observe, and enjoy flirting. I learned what it was like to be left and to leave another. Both are unpleasant. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool or a liar.

I no longer apologize for being a female and for using my feminine wiles. I am sick and tired of having to choose between two roles, the madonna and the whore. I have simply decided to be me and learned to be happy with me. There is no one else on earth like me and there will never be another. Time is short and I must use my time wisely, not waste it wondering on what I can't control. And that is something I treasure.

There may be more to this post so I'll post it now and revise as I get more inspired.

write write write awayyyyyyy

Humming to myself, listening to the smart little clicks of the keyboard as I type this.

Let me tell you a little about my present. After living on my own for several years, I found myself getting kind of lonely. I had short-term boyfriends, I had flings, but nothing permanent. The minute they found I had my own place they were looking to find any excuse to stretch themselves onto my couch and peruse my CD collection and fridge. The worst part was having them decide it was alright for them to answer my phone, when I had an answering service to handle any calls when I wasn't home.

So yes, I was stupid to let them stay there if I had to leave. Sometimes, I just didn't have time to wait and watch them drag their ass as they took their time getting ready to go, even though they knew the day before that if they were to stay over, they had to be out by such and such time. They never made the fucking deadline.

Of course, once or two times, I would let them slide, and that, unfortunately, would be enough for them to find a way to get out of my good graces. For example, picking up my phone when it rung. They don't live or pay rent there, but for some reason that didn't bother them much and they wanted to pick up the phone. Of course I took this as a sign of aggression, rather, passive agressiveness, as I usually avoided dating stupid men who can't follow simple verbal instructions.

"If you're going to stay here today, please don't pick up my phone, I have an answering machine for that, thanks." "What if you call?" would be the bright person's answer. "You know my job number. See the caller ID window? If my number shows up, you can pick up, otherwise, don't pick up. Thanks. See you later."

Then of course I'd get home and the man would be stupid enough to tell me, "You got a couple of hang-ups on your phone." "I did?" I would ask, surprised. "Yeah, I picked up and then the person asked for you, some guy, and I told him no, and he hung up." Then he would look at me expectantly. I would then reiterate what they just told me, walking through my logic, "So....you heard the phone ring, you looked at the caller ID, and you picked it up anyway?" "Yeah," said the guy, feeling totally justified in picking it up because a male voice was on the other line. He had no idea that he was pulling a drama scene in MY fucking house when I didn't want him there in the first place. I checked the number. It was my brother calling. Okay jealous fuck, I thought to myself, you disregard what I ask, then I shall bring you pain.

I turned to face the asshole who is noticing how calm I am at the moment and then notices like a frightened dog that picks up the incoming storm, the atmosphere has suddenly changed and is charged. I took a pause, considering, before beginning my tirade. "I'm trying to understand why you picked up the phone when I told you not to -- do you have a learning disability or a hearing problem?"

"No, I don't have either one," he would say, "I just wanna know who was that calling." "Really? How is that any of your business here? Do you live here, do you pay rent here? Are we serious in a relationship here for you to be getting in my business?" "Your business?" he would ask, trying to get his gumption up. "Yes, my business. I want to know. I do you a solid by letting you stay here even though I told you I had to head out early and you drag your ass. I trusted you to stay here while I was gone. So you must've had some party while I was gone. You betrayed my trust." "Woman, I betrayed nobody. Why can't you just tell me who was on the phone?" "You picked up the phone asshole -- why didn't you ask then? Boy, some message taker you are!" I laughed.

"It's not funny," he said. "It's none of your business and you still fucked up by picking up the fucking phone in the first place. If I tell you to jump out a window will you do it too?" I was disgusted. "I trusted you, I let you stay in my house, my domain, and the first thing you do is the exact opposite of what I told you. I didn't ask for much, I didn't ask for blood or for your chastity. Would you be happy if I did this in your house when you are out? You need to go."

"What the fuck? Are you crazy?" he asked. "Crazy for letting you stay here against my better judgement. Oh, by the way, that was my brother." I picked up the phone and dialed the number. "Hey, bro, what's up? I have a guest here, he wants to talk to you, hold on." And I handed the phone over. He was flabbergasted but took the phone. "Hey....what's up. (pause) Nah, I'm just a friend, hanging at your sis' place. Yeah. (pause) Naw, it's all good. Well, it was good talking to you, I'm gonna give the phone back to your sister. Bye." And he hands the phone back.

"Yeah, bro, what's up?" I took the phone back and continued to talk to my brother, "Is everything OK at home?" "Yeah," laughed my brother over the phone, "Who the hell is that in your house and why am I talking to him?" "Oh, he didn't believe that you were my brother calling, so I had to settle that." "You gonna continue dating him?" "What do you think?" I countered. "Poor guy, what an idiot." "Well, he shot himself in the foot, he's only got himself to blame." "Has he apologized?" "Sadly no, but I'm not surprised. Anyway, gotta go, you sure all's well?" "I was wondering if I could borrow some money for a Metrocard." "When do you need it?" "I could swing by tomorrow at your job, around lunchtime." "Come by around 3 pm, that's when everyone's lunch is over and I can come down real quick and give you the card then." "Thanks sis." "You're welcome, see you tomorrow at 3 pm." "Okay, bye - love ya." "Love ya, bye." We hung up.

I go out to the living room to see sheepish boyfriend cowering on the sofa. "Baby," he starts, all soft and low in what he hopes is a sexy apologetic tone. "Well, you got your evidence. Realize that is the first and last time you are staying here ever." "Baby don't be like that, why do you have to be so drastic?" "Because you poked your nose where it didn't belong, sweetheart." I realized my voice was calm, gentle even. I made my boundary clear and he deliberately crossed it anyway. My mind was clear. I wasn't attached emotionally to this motherfucker. Making decisions like this were never hard for me. You fuck up once on a minor detail, how could I trust you on a major one? Nope, this boy would not do. A real man doesn't play games like this.

How come every guy that has tried this thinks he's going to honestly get over? I would shake my head sadly and say, "Nope, this just won't do." "You never had feelings for me, you probably had someone on the side anyway," he would say. "You fucked up, you took that chance, so now you have to face the consequences. You must have me mistaken for a fool. Take your shit and get out." He would leave, but would think it was just for me to cool off. Then he'd call, and...I had caller ID. I would pick up once and ask him to never call this number again, that we were over.

This only further inspired him to call more, to insist that he had something magical to say that would change my mind. "Look, I made a mistake," he would say, and I would simply listen. "We all make mistakes. And I'm sorry, I am so so sorry." "I accept your apology. But I don't want to see you again, I hope I am making myself clear to you." I would answer. "But why do you have to be like that?" he would plead. Because he knew he had it good. A woman who worked a full time job and supported herself, had her own place and no extra baggage to tie her down. A woman who avoided any kind of stress if she could help it and simply wanted a quiet nice life. And this motherfucker was determined to add stress to it and that was not going to happen as far as I was concerned.

"I was serious about what I told you before and you refuse to listen. I picked up the phone out of courtesy and I hope you will show me the same courtesy by not calling here again or I will consider that harassment and call the cops. Now leave me alone. Goodbye and have a nice life." And I hung up. Several repeat phone calls and then .... the visit at my door, looking all bedraggled, trying to plead their case. I would listen, then say to them that I heard them out and they did not change my mind, that the issue was settled. "It can't be!" they cried.

"Why, because you didn't end it first?" I asked, "I didn't cause this, you did. I don't have time for the theatrics. I need to trust the person I'm with and for this one small thing you couldn't handle it. So goodbye. Don't waste my fucking time. GET OUT and don't come back ever!" At this point my patience was gone. Only a threat to call the cops would get them going, because my merely telling them it was over and showing them I wanted nothing to do with them was not enough for these dim witted bulbs.

Thus I decided that living alone, while a lovely thing to experience, was also becoming quite tiresome. I craved stability, coming home to a home-cooked meal, instead of four walls and an elderly cat I inherited from my sister who dumped the cat on my doorstep when her soon to be hubby issued an ultimatum that the cat had to go if they were to marry. P.S. a year to the day of the marriage, divorce papers were served on the cat-hater asshole but that's another story to tell another day.

Once the cat died (and my dog died too) I decided that living alone was no longer working for me. My brother had become a liability with constantly losing jobs and crashing at my house when our mother was fed up with his laziness. I had no idea if he was on drugs and told him if he ever was he would not be allowed in my home. I had been coerced into taking him, really forced, because my mother asked me for a favor to store some of his belongings until she could situate him and he was going to take some clothing and just stay at her house for the time being. Little by little I saw him more and more stinking up my couch and playing video games til all hours and sleeping if not pawing around for food eating me out of house and home....yet he never seemed to smell when the kitty litter needed changing or the cat needed to be fed.

Tired of his b.s., I got the opportunity to move into a friend's cousin's place. The problem was I would be staying with their family and storing up all my shit into one room. Lucky I didn't have a lot of furniture but I did have bedroom furniture that I had to squeeze in. So the Aunt, we'll call her the Aunt, had immediately started eyeing my furniture, and asked if it had been given to me. I stated I bought every piece. And proudly, I thought. These were my first real purchases as a grown-up and I bought with value and quality in mind. This furniture had to last me and couldn't be cheapie IKEA crap.

The best part was I was staying in 'the city' so that meant easy transportation, I could get to work easy, like in twenty minutes as opposed to an hour and a half, and I would just chip in for my portion of the rent. After a while, I realized Auntie was a bit off her rocker and deliberately ignored doctor's orders and skipped her meds, some of which were to keep her behavior steady (anti-psychotic pills). Of course none of this was mentioned to me before moving in, so it's been such a...how shall I put it, a barrel of laughs and surprises every week as to what is crazy ol' Auntie going to pull next?

In the beginning of adulthood

Once upon a time, I was a young girl just trying to get by. My dream was to get out from under my parents' thumb and get my own place, because getting my own place meant freedom. When I was 17, I moved away for the first time. I barely scraped enough money to pay the first month's rent and security. I handed over my hard earned money working three retail jobs. I was too young to work an office gig, and people didn't want to hire someone green despite my having been trained for office work in high school. I had taken typing, steno and something called "Office Procedures" that included skills like filing and answering phones. You would have thought that I was in some kind of 1950's world but it was actually several decades later than that.

I had my resume at the ready, and decided after six months that working three jobs was draining me -- I wasn't getting any sleep and also was not eating properly. I was tired and anxious. I had to get an office job. I remember walking into one particular employment agency, who advised I wouldn't get more than a dollar more than what I was making in retail, in which I turned around, asked for my resume back, and told her that while I appreciated her honesty, I had valid solid skills and wanted to talk to someone who took me as seriously as I was taking this job hunt. "You have zero experience working in an office, you're not going to get what you're looking for, so you have to work with what I got," she said, shrugging her shoulders when I told her I had rent to pay and this would not cover the amount of money the three retail jobs I currently worked at to pay the rent. "I understand that, but I have solid skills, you tested me, and I did great. You do understand that the salary is not conducive in order for me to survive. I want to deal with a professional and you're not it," I told her, "Let's not waste each other's time. I will find a job that will pay my worth, with or without your help." And with that I went out the door with my resume, her jaw dropping. Other agents peered out from their desks, smiling, some in awe, silently clapping.

I did manage to find a job that paid better, but by then my financial situation was dire. I barely had enough to catch up with piling bills and was falling behind on my rent. I didn't know what to do. I met up with an old acquaintance from technical school who tried to take me under his wing so to speak. He admitted he liked me from school but I was involved with someone else so he never said anything. He helped me to move, as I could no longer deal with the stress of living on my own and the landlord was there to watch and I handed over the keys, signing over my rights to the apartment.

After moving my stuff into a huge one bedroom, I was introduced to his father who was also living there and had a bedroom there of his own. Exhausted, I lay down on the mattress and just passed out. I awoke, it was night. I heard him and his father talking down the hall in the kitchen, the soft murmuring put me back to sleep.

For the next several weeks, I slowly unpacked. "This is going to be great," he would say, "We'll split the rent three ways." "That will be better," I nodded. We would go do laundry together and he would fill me in on his latest romantic escapade. As time went on, he expressed an interest in me. During the July 4th weekend, we were all out of the house, enjoying the day. By the time I got home, I found that the place had burned down due to some kids playing with firecrackers nearby. Everything I owned was gone, up in smoke. I suddenly remembered I had a kitten staying with me who I believed got killed in the fire. I was 18. I was in shock.

My roommate took me to his mother's house where I begged for him not to leave me alone. I cried myself to sleep, literally, clutching him and not letting him go, falling asleep fully dressed. When I awoke, I thought, maybe this isn't happening. But we were still in his mother's house. I thanked her for letting me stay the night and went to my boyfriend's house. "I could get us emergency housing with the Red Cross," I remember my roommate pleading, "We would just have to share the bathroom, but we could have a room for us." It didn't sound very pleasant and actually sounded a little dangerous. When I got a phone call, all I heard was a slight small meow. "Is that...is that..?" I remember saying. I was too afraid to ask. "My dad found your cat, one of the firemen found her in the next apartment, she had escaped through that hole under the sink we had." "I don't believe it," I said, feeling sad all over again.

He brought the kitten over. She had a burn mark on her upper lip under her nose, as if she had gone to curiously sniff at a flame and paid for it. But it was her. "Oh my God it's a miracle!" we both cried and I thanked him over and over for finding her. "How's your dad?" I asked. "He's alright." He then admitted I was better off at the boyfriend's as the housing situation was pretty sketchy. "It's one of those single occupancy places, and it's no place for a female, I'm glad you're not living there," he said. "I wish I could help you," I said sadly, but I had no resources of my own. He understood. "Are you happy?" was all he asked, regarding the boyfriend. "I'm happy he's able to help me, it's best this way." was all I could think of saying. I figured it was a temporary solution. Little did I know.

I celebrated my 19th birthday singing to myself late at night in front of the kitchen window overlooking the parking lot in my boyfriend's parents' apartment. I had come to their house with no clothes, literally only had the clothing on my back. I was allowed to go back to the apartment to search for anything to salvage, but fire and water damage and the firemen just tromping through to put out the fire pretty much destroyed anything of value. I had no identification, nothing to reference myself by. We lived on the top floor of the building and when I looked up there was no ceiling or roof, only sky. I think I found my telephone and with that I walked home with the telephone in a plastic bag. At this point I had an office job but I wasn't concentrating. I had lost so much and was walking around in a fog. I finally quit my job.

I could not go back to my family about this as they had splintered up the summer before and the wounds were still fresh. My mother simply did not want me back in the house as she felt she had too many kids there she had to contend with and I didn't want to be where I wasn't wanted.

No, going 'home' wasn't an option. My boyfriend knew that, so he felt he had no choice but to house me at his parents. Unfortunately, I wouldn't be able to leave until almost three years later, as it took me another nine months to find another job and save for a new place.

Dear Reader

For I am assuming there will be readers. I am going to be brutally honest. The only thing hidden will be the guilty party's names. They, for the most part, know who they are. The only other thing is that some are too stubborn to admit they have any problems and are only too happy to automatically assume someone else has a problem.

It's going to be scathing. It's going to be hard. It's going to be a healthy release for me. I hope.