Copenhagen 2008, July 31

have spent the last half hour (at least) or so at work looking at how feasible it would be to go to Denmark at the end of the month for George Michael’s final show. seriously. found a flight, ticket, was about to research hotels next. insane. seriously, insane. impulsive. risk. not thinking. dangerous. but… but…

if i had more money…

if i had less expenses now that i have rent and such…

most of all, if i had more notice than hey the presale is today and the show is at the end of the month… (make it like october or november and nothing would keep me away)

with more notice i know i would figure out a way that isn’t all jumbled and nerve-wracking. (it’s not like it’s dublin where i can just book stuff and know exactly where i am going and what prices are and such.) but i guess this is for the best since basically i would be spending any current and future paycheck monies on this trip. funny thing is, if it was like in madrid or something, i wouldn’t care. i just have never been to denmark and i would actually like to visit copenhagen at some point. (and likely stockholm , which is in the scandinavian country that is in the middle.)

i had already decided that if i did book this trip (oh, what’s $1200 in air fare? so what if the dollar is, how you say, worthless?)… anyway, if i would be going, i would not eat more than 1 meal and 1 snack a day for the rest of the month. i should do that anyway. i can tell myself it is in acknowledgement of george’s final concert, even though i won’t be there. b/c likely if i make up a reason that has nothing to do with me personally, just maybe i can trick myself.

so, this saturday it is… hasn’t sunk in yet. likely will not until the lights dim and “Waiting” starts and then he will be on stage. and then i will be mesmerized and experience every emotion. and in my head i will be thanking him for everything – i always say he saved my life once upon a time. and then i will stare at the stage after he leaves. and cry (it’s ok).  . . . i think maybe now it’s starting to sink in a little…

Saturday 2008, July 28

I know I’ve been ignoring that this is coming. I don’t know why. Maybe I don’t want to set it up too much because when I go that high, then of course inevitably i go that low. Also, this is it. This is the last time I will see him. And he looks great. And he sounds great. But I know that just like I did in Dublin, when the show is over, I will cry. For so many reasons. Not sad, really, just emotions.

I have adored this man forever. And it is for us, for the fans that never stopped, that he has done this. There is something I have always wanted to tell him, if I ever got the chance to meet him: “You saved my life.” He really was that important.

Here are his interviews from Good Morning America. And, in true GM fashion, they are honest and intelligent. At the end of the day 2 one he talks about how he has had a role in people’s lives, how the music has meant something, and that’s what matters – and that is exactly how he saved my life.

Saturday. And the hardest part will be to go home and not pack a bag and drive immediately to Miami so I can see him the next night, the final night, in Ft. Lauderdale. I have no idea why I did not plan that, but I didn’t. It is extremely expensive, but that has never stopped me before (I mean, I flew to Dublin for a weekend just to see him). Maybe b/c it’s the last show of the tour. Which means it is extra-special. And I should be there. But again for several reasons… I’m not sure I could. I don’t want to experience that ending.

 

Well, that didn’t help… 2008, July 28

When I went to take my meds on Sat morning I noticed that the Friday box was full. Which means that in my haste to leave the house early so I could stop at Starbucks since I did not brew my own that morning, I forgot to sit down and take my pills. Too preoccupied with the day and the meeting I had to present something in, etc. So, Friday I was so physically not well. And then on Saturday morning it made a little more sense.

i still feel my life is a series of mistakes lately. And I am well aware that I’m the one making those mistakes, and in theory I could turn that around, while in reality, my reality, I am stuck, stuck, stuck and lost, lost, lost.

Belle and I had a decent weekend. She seems to be sorta learning her name or at least my voice when she is at the dogpark. But she is still too big and energetic for my place and this morning she pissed me off. She has to get into her crate every morning and she used to but now she fights me and I have to lift and push 50 lbs of dog in there. The crate is nice and roomy and has blankets and water and toys and really, she just sleeps most of the day. I think part of it might be the crate confinement but maybe a bigger part is that she knows that crate means she will be alone. I know, I know, put her in the crate for just a little while when I am home. But when I get near the crate when she is in there and simply touch the latches, she goes insane. She runs around and jumps and acts crazy and I need her to be calmer. I think also that either her breath might be getting a little better or I am getting used to it. This weekend also, I swept and wow was there dog hair.

On Friday I felt so awful that I just wanted to give the dog away. I mess up when I don’t listen to my gut feeling and I have to learn to trust it. My gut feeling when I saw the dog for the first time was: No. But she was abandoned and may finally be coming out of her shell and how can I move this poor abandoned dog to yet another home. Not to mention the exorbitant amounts of money I have spent on her. Seriously expensive dog at first.

Not sure what this week will be like. Breaking Dawn comes out Friday night (really Sat) at 12:01am and I want to go to the bookstore and be there for that. The next night I am going to Tampa to see George. For some reason I can’t get as excited about it as before. I’m sure that’s all my issues. I guess I wish I was seeing him in Europe again where I know the crowds would be better. Plus, this is it. No more tour. And 8th row center in a seat, well, I just hope that’s good enough. For this show I might be “that person” who wears her GM stuff. But that’s ’cause my tour shirts have Euro dates on them.

Weird week, so far, and yeah, it’s only Monday morning. I feel tired every single day. All the time. Oh and I started painting my room finally and it seems to be brown and then darker brown and obviously it is going to be extremely dark. Plus I have brown curtain panels to block out the morning heat. I have to figure out how to make the room look sophisticated and not just weirdly dark.

And I think I would love the bed against the wall, which means only one night table, but c’mon, as if there is anyone on the other side (or will be).

i guess that’s it for now. wish things were better. which i knew, really really really know, how to make them better. or more importantly, which i could find it within myself to do what i need to do.

things just aren’t right… 2008, July 25

this isn’t so much me coming down onme. but truly, there is an overwhelming sense that things aren’t right, there’s nothing i can do about it because it’s just the way things turned out and i have to accept that, and i know if i just did some things better then maybe i would feel better but i can’t seem to get out of some rut i have fallen into. it’s a rut with old vines and twisted roots and i get stuck this way and that. basically my life feels like a series of mistakes for the last 6 or 7 months. i’ve made some huge accomplishments, i know, but they have all come at a price, and they have all come after much pain and struggle. and now, when things should be better and i should be better and all that, what do i do but make mistake after mistake after mistake.

right now, life is a series of mistakes. (and even regrets, and i have always wanted to live without those). but really… right now life is a series of mistakes. haunting memories. missed opportunities. lost chances that will never come around again. so much wasted time. so many relationships lost. and the horrible feeling that it is too late. so i just keep making mistakes and trying to hide from all this stuff. it’s no surprise that i often can’t keep my eyes open lately, just keep falling asleep, because my body is obviously not well and is also trying to shut down in just about every way.

i doubt myself every single day. and not in the way i used to before. before it was all like, well, i suck and that’s final. now it’s like, ok, i’m not supposed to suck and i should work on that and be happy, move toward better things — but what the hell are those things? and how do i do this? at my lowest points i haven’t given a shit about life and was fine with just not waking up one day. now i wake up, and i am good with that, but i am lost every minute. there have been choices, bad ones, really bad ones, and i sit here with the consequences overwhelming me.

when i finally got to the point that i deserve to be around, that maybe i’m not just this huge worthless mass after all, i found out that i have no idea how to be anything else.

Honestly, this shit is really bothering me. 2008, July 25

Every day this week I have had some of the following for breakfast, lunch or dinner: bagels, bagels, bagels, donuts, donuts, donuts, McDonalds, Wendy’s, McDonalds, cheese pastries. Oh, and a couple of slices of leftover pizza. This has been the extent of my nutritional (or lack thereof) intake this week. What’s worse is that this is so common now that it’s becoming my eating plan, basically. Oh, and all this is complemented by huge, insane, way too much even for me, amounts of coffee. Which means, I physically feel like shit. I mentally am not doing as well. And emotionally? Please. I realize that I am completely sabotaging myself, setting myself up for failure and disappointment, punishing myself over something, I guess, by making myself balloon (it’s not even about the food; i may love bagels and pastries but when i eat them every day it’s just an automatic thing without any pleasure)… I hate feeling so physically drained and down. Tired all the time. Barely able to stay awake at times. Skin breaking out or just being gross and looking so old. Hair yucky. Everything looking my worst, which of course, makes me berate myself even more.

I am trying to liek the dog. My first instinct, which I should never ever ever ignore, was not to get the dog. This is when I met her. But I had so convinced myself from her pic and description that I needed her. And so when it happened, I figured OK, meant to be.  But when I first saw her I instantly felt in my stomach, oh no, this isn’t the one. But how could I deny her a home when everyone was so excited to find her some stability after over a year of her not having a real home? So I made a decade+ and expoensive commitment to care for her. One of the hardest things is that she is not Harley, and Harley is absolutely the most brilliant dog I have ever met, and I am not just saying that ’cause he’s my dog. I felt an instant connection with him. When I look at Belle, there is none of that intelligence or understanding in her eyes and I do not know how to deal with that. I feel guilty. She is not a small dog and I want to play with her but the apt suddenly seems small for that. I have, probably b/c it’s how I have appeased myself over the years and how my mother raised me and showed me love, spent hundreds of dollars on training class (she just started) and food and treats and toys and medicine and rawhides and all that. But something is not allowing me to connect with the dog, which is really hard for me to admit. I feel awful about uit, here might be another mistake and failure. But my god, I cannot look at a dog as a mistake or failure. I can’t make her life worse just because I have issues. And really, the worst thing is that she has the smelliest breath ever. To use a phrase my coworker used about her own dog, Belle’s breath smells like a dead fish’s ass. And she pants all the time, which means her breath is apparent all the time and actually makes her smell because she is surrounding herself with this odor, which even comes out of her nostrils. I brush her teeth and all that, but it’s not a teeth issue. Could be just how she is. And I find it very difficult to cuddle with a dog who smells that bad. Yes, I know I am a horrible person. And as bad as her breath is, she doesn’t give puppy kisses, which bothers me. Harley and I practically make out when I see him. Belle puts her head under my hand because she wants attention and petting all the time. She reminds me too much, in looks a bit and with that head/hand thing, of my family’s dog in ny which is the stupidest dog in the world (bless her heart, it’s not her fault). Part of me wants to find the dog a new home but I am ashamed of that. Am I giving up? What gives me the right to mess her up even more? And damn, I am a horrible person for thinking these things.

I have also realized that I no longer like walking the dog. I step out into a horrible humidity every morning at 6:30 am and I do not stop sweating, even after showering, until I get in my car and blast the a/c. And at night I freak out that I am going to get mugged or abducted or something b/c it’s pretty dark out there. I thought of getting a taser but even that doesn’t seem like the right solution.

UGH…meeting and then another meeting. To Be Continued…