You Got Sars!

12/24/06

‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house. . . absolutely nothing was happening. Thus leaving me feeling completely alone and very sad. I have no real reason to be all up in my head like this, but. . . there’s always a but isn’t there? This year has held some intense emotions. I’ve laughed and cried and caused laughter and unfortunately some tears too. I’ve loved and I’ve lost and I’ve been lost and found on occasion. In the end I find myself sitting at Denny’s on Christmas Eve (ironically in a booth that holds some funky memories). I’m sitting here because I couldn’t bring myself to brave the downtown crowd alone again. To see the same faces – or not, and lump myself in with “them”. You know “them”. The lonely ones, the sad ones, the ones you feel bad for when you’re all dressed up and out with your friends. The ones you feel sorry for because there alone on Christmas Eve drinking to feel better. It’s not the drinking to feel better that I’m craving, but the company. Don’t misunderstand, I have friends and they love me as much as I love them. They are good and loyal and mostly far away. They have lives of their own. I don’t so much have a life right now. I work, I wander, I wait. I wait for my phone to ring and hope it’s a call from the love I can’t have. I wait for a call from an unhealthy boy that I’m not sure even likes me. I wait for my friends to call and tell me about the fun stuff they’ve been doing, I wait to hear about the lives they’re leading so I can feel like I have one too. I wait for my mom to call because it’s a consistent call. I’m lonely. I’m not alone always but I’m lonely. I need to be okay with the state of my life until I can change it.

That is the upside. . . I’m headed for changes in the coming year. Big changes, good changes. I’m going to leave the town I’ve called home for 14 years. I have much to leave behind. There’s much I’d like to keep, but more I’d rather leave. 7 years of sadness, struggle, and pain dominate my memories. I will leave behind the places and all of the associations too. Knowing everyone has advantages for certain, but (there it is again) it has major drawbacks too. It means never being able to put the past and it’s bad memories behind you. It means seeing people out every time you go somewhere and hearing about it later (regardless of how innocent it may be). I can’t even sit at Denny’s on Christmas Eve without knowing someone. It also (maybe most importantly) means my dating pool is the size of a Dixie cup. Everyone knows someone I’ve dated or is their friend or worse, is friends with my ex. Beyond that it’s a college town so half of them are too young – no, no, I tried and have tapped out my reserve for 21 year old boys because even at 31, they’re still boys. I am ready to move on and leave behind the rollercoaster of emotion I’ve had for the past year. It was just too much. I want to put all of the sadness in a box – losing my best friend (or so I thought – and maybe that’s the worst part about it) and the fact that I still don’t understand why and have no closure on the situation. Giving away the last piece of my soul. . . the one I’d held in reserve for so long to a boy who taught me more in 24 hours, than I learned in seven years of marriage. Or the unhealthy boy that calls because he needs me to take his drunk ass home or he needs an ear to hear him and keep his secrets or he needs comfort and a warm body in his bed. . . or the hurts I’ve caused to those I love and even those I didn’t. I want to seal them up and label them “POISON! Do not open!” so I can stop being numb and I don’t know start living my real life.

–> –>12/25/06

I try to believe, I want to believe that there is this great fat man in a red suit who’s been watching how good I was so he can reward me with goodies. If I go to sleep can I get one of those tickets for the polar express that will help me believe? Maybe I’ll find the faith I used to have. The one that made “Christmas” an actual holiday for me rather than some overly commercialized non-event. That faith I used to have in “the reason for the season” is shattered and lying in pieces with the memories of good times or at least my illusion of them. I used to believe Christmas was beautiful, special, and amazing time. I went all out and decorated, baked, cooked, planned. I was full of Christmas spirit. I knew all the truths, the baby was really born in summer, the Christians decided to have it in winter to get more pagens to join in their reindeer games, blah, blah, blah. . . I still believed in all that the holiday stood for and meant. I’ve defected. Not because I’ve stopped believing (well, not completely – but I am in doubt about most all of it.) but because I don’t feel like celebrating when there’s no one to celebrate with. Don’t get me wrong, I have a nuclear family (though none of my siblings or I practice any type of religion). And I have a nephew that makes the fat man part fun. Otherwise the closest I got to actual celebration of a “holiday” was solstice and that’s not really a holiday – it’s an event. Scientifically occurring twice a year every year, no hypocrisy or commercialism involved. I miss celebrating. I need faith. Not the radical craziness of my youth but real faith found on my own. I want a reason to celebrate in December. I want to gather beloved friends for a celebration. I want to eat, drink and be merry with them, celebrating – life, friendship, love, seeking, finding, everything. I don’t want to spend Christmas Eve at Denny’s (unless of course I’m craving fries at 2am with my friends) even if Christmas isn’t the holiday I choose. I want to leave a coke for the fat man that can magically make it around the world to every house in one 24 hour period. Maybe, he knows my secrets and won’t stop after all. Or he’ll leave me a sock full of coal with a note saying be better next year. –> –>Either way the coke will be gone and I’ll know he was there leaving a sprinkling of faith behind to refill my spirit.

Even with all the sadness I felt this weekend I still have a smile. I know that the dark cloud is moving slowly by and that next year brings hope for brightness. I will make the sun shine, even if I have to string flood lights in the living room. I will leave the sadness and heartache behind and make a new home. The thought makes me grin even this second.

The flood of things on my mind is completely overwhelming. I went from not being able to write anything to having so much that I can’t get it all out. I’ll try and we’ll see where it all goes.

I got this new job and it’s so much fun. Some days because I get to help someone that really does need it and some days because of the sheer number of idiots that stand in front of me. At this point we all know the rules, we’ve all heard the commercials, police ads, whatever – telling us “DON’T DRINK & DRIVE. It’s the law!”. Funny, they aren’t joking. Why do you think they tell you in school not to do it and show you the lame movies in driver’s ed and make you know the BAC for different things or even what the hell a BAC is??? Because, you shouldn’t drink and drive. Now I’m not perfect and I’m not saying all cases are cut and dry, but jesus people! Is it really that difficult to say “hhhmmm I’ve had a couple (three, ten, whatever) drinks. I feel fine, but the po-po won’t think so, I should call a cab, or a friend or my mom or ask that sober person over there to be my friend and not drive myself.” Maybe that isn’t exactly what you’d say. But you should think it. No I’m not a PSA and I’m no saint. However, in the three weeks I’ve been at my job I have heard so many different stories of I felt fine or I only had two drinks or I was sleeping it off in my back seat or the cop was a dick. On some rare occasions the person may be justified in their thought that a full blown DUI wasn’t appropriate for what they were doing. Fact is they were drinking and then drove. Now they get to see my smiling face when they come and give me money and realize that for the next three, nine or in the case of the really stupid, eighteen months they get to see me and pay me every week. It’s awesome.

On the vain that I do enjoy my job. . . I’m enjoying the crazy variety of people I meet everyday. They guy who was driving his boat and his friend set his beer down in the driver’s cup holder and he got a wet reckless for it. (yes he was breathalized and blew a .05, so technically he deserved it) Had the friend set the beer somewhere else he would not be at my desk. The guy with 5 DUI’s dating back 15 years wondering why the ones tat are 10 years old haven’t dropped off his record yet. Funny, if you don’t take your classes, you will have the DUI forever, or at least until you do. And 5 DUI’s??? How do you not learn from these things? I guess jail and embarrassment and fines and probation doesn’t affect some people. But my favorite are the students that get pissy with me because the classes we offer don’t fit into their class schedule. Well, sorry bro, but you should take that into account before you blow a .22 next time. You fucked up, don’t get mad at me because daddy couldn’t pay off a judge or get you an attorney that had more pull or whatever. None of this is my problem. I still smile and all that, because it’s my job, but it makes me sad that these guys are so arrogant about a mistake they made and should be embarrassed and humbled by.

I think I’m going to design some kind of tracker that I can post to show how many people come in every day to sign up for a DUI class, ask me about when their certificate of enrollment will go to the DMV so they can get their restricted then leave my desk, get into their car and drive away. Hhmmmm. Not smart. But it wasn’t your incredible brain that got you here in the first place now was it?

um Tool…. yeah. Last night was overwhelming and amazing and mind blowing all in one. I just stared with amazement at all that was happening, knowing I couldn’t see it all. My heart pounded with the beat that still resonates within me even a day later. It’s amazing to me that I missed this before. Deaf ear, closed heart. no longer.

I am completely bewildered by my own ignorance. Have I been under a rock? Have I been living in a cave? Was I just not listening when people tried to share before?? Probably. I think I just might be that lame!!!! In the past six months I have found more music that is new to me than I thought I’d ever like. I feel like I’m cramming for some final trying to catch up on all the stuff there is to learn when you discover you like a band. It starts with reading lyrics then on and on… I’ve found myself two and three hours later not having accomplished what I set out to, but having learned a shit ton about one song. Or something mentioned in one song.

It’s a bit epiphinal actually.

Lyrics like this describing my life and the music behind them mirroring the intensity. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had this happen before, where lyrics seem to describe me, we all have. Or some style of music just captures me but I hate the lyrics. Most often, for me, I don’t get the pairing. AAAAAHHHHH(angelic voices overhead) I have achieved pairing… and it is good.

Damnit… the cd stopped, I can’t have that.

I’m not sure where to start today. It’s really been too long since I’ve written anything. I’m pretty sure I could ramble meaninglessly for a while, but right now I’m just tired. I took a job I didn’t really want because my need to pay my bills overtook my need to find the right place for me. I have far too much energy and creativity to waste away as an assistant in an HR department. But alas I have no desire to be a failure and I am rapidly approaching. I guess I can’t take back all the bad decisions I’ve made in the last two months. Good thing I’m learning from them. I miss my best friend and am sad that we’re too busy for each other. I miss myself. I don’t know where I’ve gone.

As I start the downward decent to my last days at my job I am feeling totally overwhelmed. I had no idea this would be. I figured I’d be excited, which I am, but I am also plagued with my desire to be a good person. Why can’t I slack off? Why can’t I leave things un-done? Why do I feel the need to leave everything with nice little “Martha” style bows on top. They can’t even be that cheap curling ribbon you by at the drug store, they have to be a really nice fabric. I look at my desk and the piles of papers and I don’t even know what I’m looking at. I see my “in-boxes” and they are all full. My list of things to do keeps growing and I still work late when I’m out of here next week. Who does this?

I should be frantically searching for work. The bills aren’t going to magically start paying themselves. My gas tank isn’t going to be full on it’s own. But I can’t or won’t or whatever because by the time I leave here I’m thrashed. I don’t want to talk to people, I don’t want to see anyone, I just want some down time, but I never seem to get any. I’m still the reliable person who does what I should and what everyone wants. I thought it would get easier.

I am thankful to be leaving this place of negativity. I am thankful to have sunshine. I am thankful that the people I care about in this place are still going to be in my life when I leave. For today I guess that’s enough

It’s funny how a little bit of positive energy can put up the umbrella that deflects the old mans rain. Who was that I was thinkin about a few months ago?? or weeks?? I can’t remember.

WOW!!! What a freeing feeling it is to shed the negativity that has plagued me for the past three and a half months (since they chopped my pay…everyone’s pay). I can’t believe how long I made it!!! (yay for drugs!!!). I don’t think I realized how much being unhappy at my job was affecting my physical well being. No more. I should know these things… we spend a full third (or more) of our lives in a box. When that box is made of walls of negativity it finds it’s way into your pores. Not anymore, not me. I am free (well, almost), just in time for my birthday. Happy Frickin Birthday to me!!!! And I’m not even scared. At this point if I had anything to lose it’s already been lost. Now on to working on finding balance, strength and renewing my faith. God knows these last months have all but shattered it.

So in quitting I wrote a very appropriate and professional (given what I do and who for) resignation letter. It was to two people specifically that I care about very much. They have been encouraging and fun to work with. The big boss has been a mentor and friend and is one of the most amazing people I’ve ever known in my life. I will miss the day to day contact we have, but I will see him often. We share a love of the ink and that is a very good thing. A brief excerpt:

Working with both of you has been my pleasure. I think I may have left months ago were it not for you and the unique relationships we have. We have been through a lot in the last year and I think that without your friendship I may not have made it this far. My overwhelming sense of connection to you is what has kept me here after losing the pres and my boss leaving. It has taken me some time to resign myself to the fact that it isn’t getting better. I’ve decided that no job is worth my health and mental well being.

I had to write the letter to them for several reasons… they are my immediate supervisors, but more importantly, I couldn’t write to ownership. I don’t think I could have figured out what to say. I would be at a loss for words given this is what was in my head:

Dear pompous, arrogant, self-absorbed, fuck-stick (stole that last one):
(oh yeah… that’s the managing partner)

Most sincerely,
another item in your loss column

Too much? Maybe I should leave it for him some weeks after I go. Regardless, I feel lighter and that’s good. It’s amazing… even my coffee tastes better.

When did dating change into hanging out? When did planning and forethought cease to be a part of the equation? I’ve heard that chivalry is dead and that women killed it…. I may be inclined to believe this is true. However, I won’t be satisfied without it. I was not a part of that group that decided men shouldn’t open the door or walk on the side closest to traffic or pull out your chair or help with your coat. I didn’t have any part in that and I don’t want someone who doesn’t know these basic rules of manhood. And I won’t be satisfied with “hanging out”. I’m not high maintenance – I get ready to go in 40 minutes including shower. But I have standards. I don’t want to settle. I did that once because I thought I should, or needed to, or that I was setting my standards too high. That relationship ended in the “we don’t talk and never will, I lost my ass and all I got was this lousy sweatshirt” section of my history book. (I kept the sweatshirt. I still wear it when I paint) The one that has the blank binding so my family doesn’t see it and it doesn’t get brought up anymore.


Anyhow…….. I had been anticipating Friday night. I wasn’t overly excited (I am a practical girl) but I was looking forward. We had talked in advance, even about this very subject. It was brought up about who makes plans (the one who does the asking does the planning) what I might like to do (always good to find out if I’m afraid of heights before you take me skydiving) where I would not like to go… This last one is key. Maybe even more key that my intense fear of being thrust from a plane at frightening speed. When you live in Smalltown, USA and you are a person who socializes in the community, you tend to know quite a few people. I’m not saying I am popular or anything like that, I just know a ton of people. I walk into my local watering hole on any given night and know probably half the people there and the bartenders. Smalltown. So I did not want to go to the pub. If you are trying to get to know someone, it is hard when you can’t talk to them because everyone else is coming to say hi. So I was let down. I did have a good time. I laughed a lot, drank a little lot and felt comfortable. But I was let down. It wasn’t what I had hoped or expected. There was nothing planned, I was asked where I wanted to go (we had totally talked about my not wanting to pick) and we ended up at the pub (thus the drinking).


I am not a person that dates much. I can count the number of actual dates I have had in my adult life on 1 hand (yes 1). I’m not counting the stupid stuff you do when you are 16, even then, I’m still on 1 hand. So maybe my expectations were too high. I know it wasn’t the right guy. (we’ll be great friends, but nothing more) Maybe I’m just sad that I don’t get taken on real dates. Maybe I am looking for someone that doesn’t exist. Maybe I need help. What’s a girl to do??? Online dating is out, blind dating is out that leaves meeting people. I’m not scared.

It’s raining it’s pouring the old man is snoring……

I remember singing that song as a kid. It’s funny we have no clue that when it rains it really does pour. It doesn’t always have to be in the “shit! It’s all dumping on my head at once and I can’t get dry to save my life” kind of way. It can be in a “woah! Where did all these boys come from, when just yesterday there were none to be found in a 150 mile radius” kind of way. Good or bad right now I am soaked to the bone and I don’t see any buildings with awnings ahead and my umbrella won’t open.

On the downpour side…. Have you had that time at work or home where it doesn’t matter… it doesn’t matter how many good things you do, or what is positive that is produced from your cubicle, all that gets noticed or noted is the fuck-ups? I was late last week… almost everyday. I admit it, I was late… I can admit when I’m wrong (I had made known I didn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t work at the ass crack of dawn, yet they made me anyway). 10 minutes or so, except one day that was a half hour. So I got a “verbal” warning… that I had to sign. How is that a verbal warning? If it is written down and nowhere on the paper does it say “verbal warning” then isn’t that a written warning? In the middle of the morning when I was dealing with a logistical nightmare, entering PO’s and running a report when I was asked to make a dinner reservation. I wrote it on a post-it and promptly forgot to do it. This could have been horribly embarrassing, except there were plenty of tables and all was well. But (there’s always a butt…) the boss felt the need to call me to tell me I forgot and how embarrassed he would have been, if there weren’t a table, but there was. Even the littlest mistake becomes huge. (maybe this is my karma for my “jeremiah was a bullfrog blog”. … if I deserve it I deserve it.) I think at some point there should be a break. Some things deserve to be noticed and dealt with accordingly. Others can be let go. Passive aggression people! Just don’t talk to me for a day and be fine on Monday… How hard is it really? I do good work. I am a producer. And there in lies the problem. We continue to produce and never get appreciated and never get thanked, yet we get cut down for our littlest mistake… but we STILL PRODUCE. What motivation does this provide?? Flip the coin and you’re fired and there’s the motivation. So I continue to walk in the rain. Maybe if I whistle no one will notice the little things. Ya think??

On the sprinkling with short bursts of sunshine side… It’s raining men. In my journal on Tuesday I wrote about this boy I met and how funny he is and how he asked me out on a date. (What is a date??? I thought this was a fruit that is way to sweet with a pit that breaks teeth… ) So I said yes. All day I thought about going out, but not in the overly excited way, just in a looking forward way. Then I wrote the following… Even still I think about BK and wish I didn’t miss WC. I put my journal down and started to read…. My phone started buzzing and it was a text from a boy I had met three weeks earlier. (I hadn’t gotten my hopes up, so I wasn’t disappointed when he never called…. hhmmm) We texted back and forth… he’s been gone for his job (this is usual for him) and will I be around next week… yup. Curious. The next morning I open my email to find a note from the one I miss. Telling me he misses me and thanking me for my Christmas gift – it’s come in handy on his vacation. He’d love to see me when he gets back. (We’ve remained friends, but I still feel the weight of my mistake in letting him go). Then a call from BK… (were they reading my journal????) and lots of texts and emails from the date?

The old man was waking up from his slumber on the home front…. The scales of home and work seem to be moving up and down… kinda like a see-saw. Now if I can find the balance to stand in the middle. Maybe I’ll use the faulty umbrella as a cane to keep me from falling and it will help with the step. If someone can teach me to whistle I’ll be doin really good and maybe, just maybe ….. all can be right with the world.