should anyone even come across this page at all, do yourself a favor if you want to laugh out loud. it helps if you watch cesar’s show but still… i actually have tears from laughing.
go here:
http://www.hulu.com/watch/104996/the-jay-leno-show-jmz-cesar-millan
I blame it on the carbs. I did so good on my trip to Austin and upon my immediate return that I managed to lose a few more pounds. I ain’t looking, but I think they may have rejoined me this week. This week involved food like sandwiches (bread), jumbo chocolate cupcake (it was a gift with the nicest of intentions), pasta casserole (free lunch), and, guiltiest of all, McDonald’s (which wasn’t even awesome since I am no longer used to it). Also, 2 double vodkas.
And I haven’t been walking/jogging. I have been tired (again, stupid carb overload). And my knees kinda hurt, especially my left one which makes a very, very strange noise when I bend it at all. I might actually have to get better shoes (on clearance or something) than my sneakers from Payless. I am glad I did not buy any such shoes on Thursday, for if I had my bank account would be in overdraft.
Which brings me to what has made me really pissed off and cranky and disappointed and the thing that makes me want to beat myself up (extra suckiness to that since i am so goddamn good at it). I went to the mall b/c i wanted a couple of things from Sephora. That was all. This is the cool mall in Tampa with all the real stores and a lovely mix of regular ones and high-end ones. I don’t know where Sephora is so of course I end up parking the farthest away from it. Which means I have to walk past stores I like. Which means I spent a lot of money. Which means no savings, which really pisses me off, because dammit I said I would start saving. Have an “Austin Fund” in case things work out in a way that I end living there again. instead, I will spend this week with $21 in my bank account and hoping there’s not some payment straggler somewhere that will tip me over and have the bank make even more profit from my stupid spending ways. Ugh.
So I am really beating myself up over this. The “positive thinking” stuff has been harder and harder to practice since those 2 weeks when work sucked such major balls that I wished I could just up and leave. Things seem to be better, but that doesn’t mean my brain has caught up. Or that it is not on Alert Mode b/c the way things have been going at work, with stupid changes and no morale, I don’t expect much. I have gone from truly loving my job to being jaded. But hey, I’m still proud of how long I held to the “I love my job” feeling, esp since I don’t think I have ever experienced that before.
The spending pisses me off because it’s such an automatic comfort. Except this time it wasn’t even comforting. I felt like shit purchasing things and yet I still did it. I wanted to put everything back and just leave stores but I didn’t. So except for S’s present, bought with much love, every time I went to a cash register and handed them my only credit card (my bank card), I felt like shit. And still I did it. It’s so hard to fully let go of such ingrained habits. I guess an upside is that I felt like shit instead of telling myself I deserved and needed presents to make my life better. Maybe that will help “next time.” Doesn’t help now though, because I seriously spent some serious money and I keep thinking of the $number$ and basically then I call myself stupid. I know these feelings are not the way to be, but they feel deep in my body like “you fucked up so here is some tightness in your chest.”
I am too old to be living paycheck to paycheck and barely making it each month. And yet each month, for whatever reason, here I am. I buy plane tickets and concert tickets. I don’t regret those ever but damn, it adds up. Yet that is the life I have chosen. it is the life I have been given, so to speak, but I am learning to embrace it. Going to shows is who I am. Finding home at a show means everything to me. And being nomadic and moving? Maybe it’s not that crazy when it’s not impulsive and all about running away. maybe this too is who i am. and maybe for once i can see it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Shit, I’ve even finally made peace with the whole “I am childless” thing – i think. I can see it clearer and ask myself if it’s what i would really want and i end up not being that sure anymore, so it seems to all be ok.
still the spending.
still the eating.
still the wondering of where i belong and where is home. still wondering how to create that home, that feeling of home, within me. because it’s obviously something i need to have in myself and then take it to wherever i live geographically. it never seems to work the other way around!
and still wanting to be loved. wanting it desperately. wondering less What is Wrong With Me? still wondering who would ever love me? still relying on the “evidence” that no one appears in my life in that sense. still thinking this means there is something SERIOUSLY WRONG with me. and realizing that i really want someone to love me (boyfriend love me), but i am so stuck and used to living alone. and who could ever come in and change that? talk about a barrier to break. i doubt over and over again that someone out there is strong enough to do so. i doubt over and over again that someone would even want to try.
as most people know, i lost everything a few years ago. everything. i ceased to exist. i lost at least a year of my life. and the road back (not really “back”), the road since, the uphill walk, I am more proud of that than anyone can imagine. I had lots of help. but in the end i saved my own life. i chose to save my own life. i chose to live. i still have to figure out how to do that though. how much am i involved? how much do i block things – with my thoughts, feelings, attitude, and most of all, my fear. fear still lives with me and it sucks as a roommate.
so today on FB i wrote “I Want to Want What I Want.” it’s about as basic as i can get. whatever it is that i truly want, when i can’t even see it, let me feel it, let me welcome it, let me allow it to happen, let the vibration put things in motion. it’s not about lists and goals and cerebral thoughts. it’s something deeper that i haven’t figured out and me being me, i hate not figuring things out! i like to know exactly how things are, exactly what is expected of me, exactly what i am supposed to do… it doesn’t really work that way though.
one more fear that i have not spoken aloud is that i have no backup anymore. with my mom retired and on a very limited income and a husband who doesn’t work, there goes my backup. yes, i have to stop turning to her. and i swear i have gotten better at it. i still ask for things, but not as much and believe me, that is major progress. but i’ve always had someone to rely on to help me financially (never knowing where she got the money from; just knowing that the sacrifices that have been made have never been on my part; and for a super long time thinking that’s ok, you owe me, i truly am entitled). my safety net is not there. so how, how do i make things happen? especially when i really fuck up with money. money and i have the most abusive, fucked up relationship: i want money desperately but then i spend it and then i get mad that the money is gone and then i beat myself up. the money and i are both battered.
this is the problem with blogging again. i use it as a journal. all this stuff releases from my brain and every post ends up being pathetic or sad or a wonderful illustration of depression (which i can honestly say for once that i do not have).
ugh.
and now i am hungry. ugh again.
I am starting to miss writing here. Facebook updates just don’t cut it.
The Leonard Cohen concert was absolutely amazing, especially from the front row. At intermission I wrote on FB that “This show is the church at which I worship. And my Hallelujah is still to come.” That’s the kind of stuff I want to remember. The kind of stuff that gets lost in a social networking site where people give each other imaginary gifts for their imaginary towns, until the next fad comes along.
So many, many thoughts came rushing at me during that show. remembrances of things past, observations about things present, questions about what is to come. People who were in my life, who are in my life, who will be in my life, I hope, even though I have yet to meet them. And the eternal always-there point for me: where is home? Where I create it. Where my dog is. But where do I fit in best? Time to move again is approaching, maybe late next year. Someone told me to just settle down already. That this whole moving thing didn’t surprise them because it’s “what I do every 2 years.” And I thought, that is NOT who I am anymore. I would be moving, not running away. If I was running away impulsively I would have already been packed and booked the UHaul. And then I thought, well, what if it IS part of who I am. Nomadic. Gypsy. Maybe that’s how I create my own home. What has felt most like home, always, is being in the audience, watching a musician perform magic on a stage. And that’s part of my gypsy travels. This month. Next month. More if I could afford it.
Cohen and everything he is – unexplainable, amazing. I went to see him because I wanted to see a genius poet before me. He was everything and more. And when he stood there in between songs and simply recited “A Thousand Kisses Deep,” I wept at its beauty.
So, for my own pleasure, for the beauty of words, for the image I still have in my head from Monday:
A Thousand Kisses Deep
The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it’s done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it’s real,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
You lose your grip, and then you slip
Into the Masterpiece.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep:
You ditch it all to stay alive,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
Confined to sex, we pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
I made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,
I’m back on Boogie Street.
I guess they won’t exchange the gifts
That you were meant to keep.
And quiet is the thought of you
The file on you complete,
Except what we forgot to do,
A Thousand Kisses Deep.
And sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go,
A Thousand Kisses Deep
I have been spring cleaning, with the satisfaction of getting rid of clutter and old furniture. Ikea is my bff and I wish i had a huge house so I could decorate it with beautiful painted wall, artwork, and a mix of modern (ikea) and vintage (finds) furniture.
so i’ve been wanting to at least redo my apartment. which is challenging for a renter. i am dying to redo the fireplace but there’s only so much i can change. but i want to redo the mantel and take down the mirror and cover the wall tiles with gorgeous fabric on foam – or something like that. i do not like the color red but i looked around and my living room has brown walls and there are many touches of red in the artwork, candles, etc., so i thought wow, how about a deep red wall? that would be cool.
i want to redo my bathroom around the color scheme of the Nate Berkus towels i bought. which means new paint. i also have an NB fabric curtain. and anything that is white definitely needs a touch up.
i got new chest-o-drawers for the bedroom (inexpensive ones from ikea) that i have yet to build. i got rid of the very old, very cheap ones that were from kmart of all places. i am redoing the bedding. i am decluttering. i’ve redone the closet.
the backroom is a lovely project in the making. attached panels from wire to break it up so there is a little guest/sitting area with coziness now. the rest of the room will lose clutter as soon as i get to it.
can’t do much in the kitchen, but want to do what i can…
i’ve lived there a whole year so it’s not surprising that i want to redecorate. like, i already moved all the living room furniture around. it’s not ssurprising at all that i want to play with color (i finally have a place where i get to play with paint and not stare at white walls). and since i am writing bedding and textiles and am surrounded by colors and patterns, as well as receiving like half a dozen decor magazines a month, and reading lots of sites about decor and crafts and all that… inspiration comes at me from all directions. when i was 18 i briefly considered going to interior design school in NY instead of actual college. i used to have a binder full of room ideas and colors i liked.
However…
The building, like many here. is in foreclosure. Which means I have no real living security. Which is one of the worst things for me to deal with. I’m all about security, all about home, and i still have ptsd from searching for places to live in CA during the boom and having the hardest time finding any place to live — that was intense fear. My whole life I’ve searched for home, for a place of my own. Of course, I can’t afford to buy anything, but i wish i could – just a condo or small townhouse, for security and to create MY OWN space.
Instead of signing another lease, the owners are going month-to-month with me. You know, in case they can’t refinance. They have one of those Freddie Mac/Fannie Mae things and i know those companies were ordered to refinance or something like that. My landlord calls it “refinancing under the Obama plan.”
But things are on hold for me. I don’t want to put time, effort and money into a place that I might lose. (I am in desperate need of a ceiling fan for the bedroom, the hottest room in the house, and i really need summer ventilation in there – but… but… what if…) And the What If isn’t just crazy speculation on my part. The “what if” is all too true. if a place is foreclosed and the bank takes over, renters have NO RIGHTS and lose their apts immediately – stupid banks will let the house sit there empty rather than have income from tenants. i HATE banks.
and What If i have to move? AGAIN??!! because i seriously cannot take it. i can’t imagine packing and going thru the whole process again. i would find a different neighborhood, likely, but where? and i need a pet-friendly place that takes regular dogs and not just teacup ones. and, my god, just the mere possibility of having to go through all of that again… i went through that TWICE last year. i have been so incredibly exhausted lately, and the stress of this makes it much worse.
i don’t sleep all that well. i certainly don’t eat healthy. i am so tired. i actually struggle to keep my eyes open on the 15-minute drive to work, like i had been on a 6-hour road trip or something and it was starting to get dark and i needed to pull over. it’s a really bad sign when i struggle to stay awake for basically 10 miles on the highway. and, yeah, dangerous, too! my shoulder acts up (left over from my SF shoulder injury that never went away 100% and that acts up in times of stress and tension). my eyes – well, they just love their corneal abrasions now, to add to the fun (pain! reduced eye sight! yay!)
i want a place to live that is home and that offers me peace of mind. i want security, as much as it is possible amidst the chaos of the world and particularly these times. i think reliable shelter is a right, and i want to have that right. it’s hard to think of moving yet again without just packing it all up and moving to another city because what the hell is the point of moving yet again to a new place in the same town? my job is what primarily keeps me here. because, well, i actually have one. and i get to officially be a Writer.
i’m a taurus. and i’m a Gisele. and combined, i am a person who HATES uncertainty and loathes when things are completely beyond my control, when i can’t do a single thing about it to make it better. lately i think. well, just move and get it over with. but then i’d likely end up in some blah apartment complex, unable to create a space that is “me,” – and i have a strong need to create my own space, wherever i live. plus, again, the mere thought of the moving… i can’t even think of it.
why do i always end up so displaced?
why am i always looking for home? and why, when i feel i sorta get there – whether it’s a city like SF or Austin, or an apartment like the one i have now, or someone (ahem, there’s only been one) who feels like home to me – do i always lose it?
i totally would. because here we go again with the whole fuckin’ up my cornea fun.
this cornea problem must stop. it is beyond painful, like a dagger is in my eye, or more like a vice, those things to catch bears or whatever, is around the back of my eyeball, squeezing it in pain. i am only here b/c i had to go online for something. light is especially horrific and even the slight glow of the monitor counts.
PAIN!PAIN!PAIN!PAIN!PAIN!PAIN!
man, this hurts.
eye dr. tomorrow (wed.)… and whatever happens, i’m still driving to orlando on thursday to see DCFC. i don’t care if i have to wear an eye patch. and if i am in pain, maybe some vicodin/vodka combo can help. i wish i had an eye patch now (should have so bought one at Pirates of the Caribbean at Disney). even so, this is pain that simply does not stop.
gonna go tear the house apart in search of a vicodin or codeine or something. i’m not sure it’ll help, but this is EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL.
(ps. Corneal Abrasion can totally be the name of a really bad big-hair metal band that royally sucks.)
goddamn this hurts.
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