Monday, March 31st, 2008
I am staring at my withering, white gerber daisies that Lover bought me, wondering why it is that flowers cannot last longer than a few weeks. I adore flowers so much & to watch them slowly die is torturous for me. Their once vibrant petals are now seemingly tired yawns; they are opening themselves so fully that they the petals are bending backwards. I can never bear to put them in the trashcan until they are completely at ease, with their petals shedding on the desk & the water a greenish yellow. My poor little flowers.
It’s only 11:30 & I’ve already had an eventful morning. I have caught 2 ridiculously hideous bugs in 2 separate plastic containers with lids & called Lover in dismay about my findings. He laughs at me when I am near tears over these “harmless” (his words, not mine) bugs. But, I beg to differ. These things are so ugly that I yelled out loud upon discovering them in the house. I lost my appetite, as well, which is a shame because I wanted a bowl of cereal. Lover is nonchalant about these creepy crawlies. He doesn’t duck or dodge them when they began flying around in agitation. He is calm & patient. He catches them like he is rescuing THEM instead of me. Every bug we’ve ever had trespass inside of our house has never been killed by Lover. He catches them in plastic containers & sets them free, no matter what hour of the night it is or how cold it is outside. He gives even the ugliest, nastiest bugs the chance at living a peaceful life. Bugs! Horrible, frightening bugs! I have never met someone so passionate about life as he. It’s beautiful. But… I don’t get so wrapped up in these feelings that I start to do the same thing. Sure, I caught those nasty flying bugs this morning, but I’m not letting them lose. Jonathan can do that. They’re lucky I even caught them! I could have smacked the guts out of them with my flip flop. But no, I thought of Lover’s diligence & kindness & it made me feel guilty. Oh, what he does to me. I’m swooning a bit, but still shaken at the thought of those bugs latching onto my skin & sucking the life out of me. It could happen, of course.
My weekend was pleasant; filled with endless moments with Lover & Sofie. & my mother came to visit yesterday afternoon, which is always nice. She needed her hair done & apparently, I am the only one she trusts with it. It’s quite flattering, since I haven’t done real hair (other than my family, I mean) for about a year. Nevertheless, I cherish the visits with my mother & her beau, Gregory, no matter how long they stay. They make me laugh & while with my mother, I am able to surrender to being a [kind of] kid again, delighted in my mother’s presence. It’s nice to have that break to be a daughter for a change. I have impeccable respect when it comes to my mother. I don’t see my her has human being. I see her as a beautiful life force that keeps me humble. When I was younger, I was convinced my mother was an Angel from Heaven. I couldn’t think of her any other way because she was so wise & so loving. Yes, she scolded me but I deserved it so that is excusable on her part. Regardless, I have always had this electric relationship with my mother. Even more now that I am “a grown married woman.” The only thing missing from the picture last night was my sister & her silly self.
I am a little frazzled today; partially because of the bugs, partially because I am suffering a minor case of Writer’s Block, partially because it is Monday & I am feeling extra-specially lazy. Hence the sporadic ramblings. I spent most of last night — after my mother left — tending to Jonathan who was suffering a wretched headache. He slept mostly, so there wasn’t anything for me to do, but I still felt involved because all I could do was worry about him. There was one moment where it was very silent in the house & I was talking to my very dear friend jemi on the internet. In this stillness, Sofie suddenly was startled awake… like something had scared her to the point of waking up. She was looking up at the loft, staring at Lover while he was sleeping. Being that I have such a heavy imagination, I instantly thought that something was wrong with Jonathan. I’ve heard such stories where dogs can sense seizures & other medical problems before they even occur to us humans. So I began thinking that she was possibly sensing some trouble about Lover’s migraine & I swiftly went up the stairs to the loft. I rubbed his inner wrists to wake him, & he opened his eyes & smiled at me. I gave a long sigh of relief. I don’t know where these maternal instincts are coming from. I’m not even sure they are maternal, so much as they are paranoia, but I care so deeply for my loved ones that it is almost hazardous to my own health. I began to take on the obligation of stressing & worrying for my family, when it seems as though they aren’t doing enough of it. When really… it’s NOT an obligation at all. They have never once asked me to carry their burdens, but I somehow manage to do it anyway. The other night, I joked with Jonathan that my job in our relationship is to look for warning signs & worry about them since he never seems to fret. As silly as that sounds, it’s true & I’m glad that I am Chief Worry Wart of the relationship. If it were any other way… well, I would be worried.
[I'd like to take a brief moment to extend my gratitude to everyone who has left beautiful comments on my blog. This is very unconventional of me, being that I don't like to mix my outside acquaintances with my journal, but it has been quite heavy on my heart for the past several days to say something, anything, to all of you who have been frequenting my blog. From the bottom of my heart, I appreciate your kindness. I am at a loss for words, that is how grateful I am! I never, ever imagined that my stories here would be readable to the outside world, let alone enjoyable. Thank you for delightfully proving me wrong.]
Saturday, March 29th, 2008
I have been startled awake from a nightmare. It’s 6:30 in the morning (conveniently, I think) & I cannot get it out of my head. There have only been a few times where a nightmare haunted me so much that I had to write about it. Literally, I think this is the second time where I’ve been jolted out of my sleep & it bothered me so much that I had to rid of it by writing it down — by force, almost — onto some kind of blank canvas. Before I can ever get back to a normal sleep, I want to write it here.
Jonathan had been offered a web designing job in Japan. We had just arrived after a long, tiring flight from LA to Tokyo. It was such a dramatic move that my sister even came down with her boyfriend to just “be in the area” while we solidified our move. We lived in a flat in a very tall building, at least 60 stories, overlooking the valleys & the city. In my dream, I had never felt so alone. I didn’t even want to be there & I could feel the anxiety creeping back up in spite of the little blue pills. But with Jonathan, I would travel to the ends of the Earth, so I followed him.
The next morning, we began to make changes in our apartment. We were looking online at some curtains for our 15 bay windows & furniture for our intricately designed apartment (almost like a L shape, but it was beautiful). He & I began talking about it, envisioning what we wanted this place to be like. Even as I spoke, my voice quivered. I did not want to be here. Ever since our arrival, Jonathan has been acting strange. Very distant & far off in his thoughts. Literally, the moment we landed in Japan he was so cold & cruel to me. Not cruel in the sense where he was saying horrible things; he was cruel in that he wouldn’t say anything at all. Every time I would ask him what was wrong, he disputed anything I could throw at him & we began to live in a very silent marriage. All the while I kept thinking, I don’t belong here.
After breakfast, I noticed that he was fiddling around with the computer, talking on AIM (which he never does, not even in real life, when I’m around; mainly uses it for web design purposes). I happened to glance at the computer screen & I could see that whomever he was talking to, it was a woman & her name apparently was Christina. I asked him about it & he said, “Oh, he’s just a web design client.” He. Christina? But I was so dumbfounded at his emotional absence with me that I actually believed it. Let me take a minute to say that I was an utter mess. I was depressed, drinking even. I was in these horrible looking pajamas as I didn’t give a fuck as to how I looked. I was miserable & cold & neglected & sad. I was moping around the house, still watching Lover chat to this mystery person. A few times he would laugh at something “he” had said. Then, after about an hour’s worth of conversation (give or take) he turned his chair to me, his hands clasped together. He just looked at me, smirking a bit. Meekly, I asked him what he was thinking. He shook his head & said “nothing” & walked over to his closet to get dressed. I asked, “Where are you going? I thought we were going to the city today. I don’t know my way around & I need to familiarize myself with this place or else I’m going to die here.” He continued to get dressed, silently. After putting on his last article of clothing he turned to face me, sighed & said that he had to leave me for a few hours to meet a client & he would be back by dinner — several hours from now. Somehow, I just knew of his unfaithfulness, though he hadn’t said not one word to me about it; we were strangers, remember? & that is when I found my voice. I began to ask him “Who is she? Who are you seeing? Is it Christina?” & he remained perfectly calm, not making a different facial expression. He just stared at me & said he didn’t know what I was talking about. I was screaming now & crying & throwing myself at him to get him to stay. I knew that once he walked out of the door it was over; he was never coming back & he was going to leave me here, alone, to rot. I asked him what I did wrong… he wouldn’t answer me. I asked him why he was doing this… no answer. I was crying louder & begging him to speak to me; he owed me that. Not one word escaped from his lips. So I lost it. I began to break dishes… I stormed around the house turning over chairs & screaming “talk to me, dammit. Why won’t you fucking speak to me? What are you afraid of?? I know!!! You know I know!!! Why won’t you just say something?” Still, against my fits of rage, he was calm as a cucumber; the whole time I was interrogating him, he was living life as usual. He was eating breakfast while reading the paper, never once looking up at me. He was packing his belongings in his backpack, never once looking at me. He was already gone, but still in our apartment. I was still desperate to save him…
I was on the floor now, clutching his ankles begging him not to go, crying & telling him how much I loved him. I said, “Whatever I’ve done, please, I can make it better. I’ll make it right. Just don’t leave me here.” I was going off on tangents, literally having mood swings. I was mad one moment, screaming, cursing, accusing. In the blink of an eye, I was crying & sad & begging like an idiot, not even making any sense amongst my tears & snot. I was a mess. Finally, I snapped for the last time — I asked him for his wedding ring. & that’s when he snapped. He said, “You are crazy! You have lost your mind!! I can’t be with you anymore, Ev’Yan. I don’t love you anymore. I haven’t loved you for a while. I wanted to try to, but I simply can’t!! You are acting insane & I really have to go.” He pushed me out of the way, while I was still clutching his ring in my hands. I was on my knees, crying, feeling like I was about to have a nervous breakdown. Then, suddenly, the ring snapped in two in my hands. Just like that. No reason, it just happened. & I knew… it was over. He began to collect his things & was still sticking to the same story that he had to meet a client downtown. He familiarly kissed me on the forehead & I continued to moan. He started down the 60 flights of stairs never to be seen again.
I couldn’t take anymore silence, so I followed him. I wasn’t wearing any shoes, my hair was messed up as if I just rolled out of bed, I was wearing pajamas & freezing; it was snowing outside. He got to the street & I stayed behind the glass doors of the front of our apartment. I started banging on the windows, hoping that I could get one last look from him. He looked back at something, not me, & started walking down the street. By now, everyone was looking at me like I was a lunatic, saying things in their foreign language. One lady, who was Russian I think, asked me if I was alright. I didn’t even hear her, my eyes were fixated on my husband. I walked outside to follow him. I was dodging behind doors & bushes so he wouldn’t know I was behind him. His cellphone rang; I bet it was her. He started talking, loudly, while pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his backpack. He was laughing now, delighted & in love the way he was with me, & began to light a cigarette. I was watching him behind a window of a nightclub (I don’t know why this nightclub was open in the afternoon, nor do I know why the door was wide open amidst the snow). He was loitering around this area, as if waiting to meet his “client.” While watching, a homeless woman came behind me & asked if I had a cigarette or two I could spare. I was afraid that she was going to blow my cover so I checked my pockets quickly & — strangely enough — I found a pack of cigarettes in my robe pocket & thrust them at her, telling her I needed to be left alone.
Lover was still outside, smoking a cigarette. Then, he started to approach me. I thought my cover was blown; maybe he saw me & was going to tell me to go home but he walked right past me, as I was sitting on the floor trying to keep warm with this homeless girl. Maybe I blended into the scene; I probably looked homeless, too. I was bewildered. How could he not even see me? My cheeks were stained with dirty tears, my legs & mouth shivering in the cold. I followed him inside & stood in front of him looking into his eyes. “Jonathan! Look at me! What are you doing? Why are you doing this? Lets talk, please! I’m begging you! Please, honey. I love you.” He gave me eye contact for the first time that day & ruthlessly exclaimed, “Ev’Yan! Get out of my way.” He pushed me, I fell. He began walking over to a beautiful Asian girl; Christina. I was on the floor, moaning in pain from my anguish, sobbing uncontrollably. I stood up, still bawling & I started yelling “Wake up, Ev’Yan! Wake up! I can’t do this anymore! I’m in too much pain. Please, wake up.” It was in that moment that I opened my eyes, startled by my own pleas to get up. It took me a moment to realize where I was; I was so disoriented. But immediately, I looked to my left to see Lover sound asleep & I clutched onto him & didn’t let go.
He consoled me, holding me, kissing me as I told him that I had had a horrible nightmare. I didn’t go into details — we were both half asleep — but I mentioned Japan & he said, “Babe, we’re not in Japan… I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is so soothing to me & his arms are so strong. I started to weep a little, the dream still pounding in my head. I closed my eyes & breathed him in, so fucking grateful that it was just a useless nightmare & that Lover still loved me very much.
I really did try to go back to sleep, but I was crying & scared & knew that the only way I could go back (which would be pointless, seeing now that it’s 7:00 am) was if I wrote it down. Release the demons onto paper, as I always say. So here I sit. I’m reflecting this nightmare now & that is what is feels like: a nightmare. Not real, not happening, just my imagination telling me a horrific & graphic story. Even as I was writing it, the nightmare went from being this actual highlight in my life as though it really did happen, to being just a dream… a good story to tell, if only it were mine. It’s funny how it transformed because by the second paragraph, I was still trying to convince myself that it wasn’t real. It’s also funny how I get so tangled into these visions in my head. I understand, though, because I felt everything in that dream. I was anxious & depression, I was longing & pathetic, I was begging & crying, I was enraged & hurt. Even as I woke up, my body felt heavy from these feelings…
Never have I ever had a good dream that was in such detail as this nightmare. Usually, my nightmares are more vivid than my happy dreams. I don’t know why that is. Maybe it’s because I am living my good dream by being married to such a wonderful man & having this beautiful life filled with love & appreciation. & because my dream is now, my nightmares are there to remind me of my dreams. That must be it. If not, then I have a terribly twisted mind.
I going to crawl back into bed now & get warm.
Friday, March 28th, 2008
Brilliant things happened today (which I’ll write about later, most likely) but all I can think about are these stupid little, insignificant things that really don’t top the other happenings, but somehow seem to overwhelm them still. They are as follows:
—- I loathe the way birth control pills are so incredibly small & agile. While you are in the process of taking the damned little pill out of its package, you somehow manage to drop it, because the dispenser is just SO easy to use (ugh), & then the pills bounce. I mean they literally bounce like little BBs, risking the chance that my dog Sofie will eat it. & regardless of what drops on the floor — rocks, leaves, coffee rinds, goo, paper, lead, tacks — she will put it in her mouth. Because, to her, nothing else matters when she hears that something, anything, has dropped onto the floor. If she hears it, she will eat it. So while I am trying to watch the pill as it bouncing obnoxiously all over the hardwood floor, I am also trying to watch Sofie to make sure that her top notch doggy senses don’t win over my clumsy human ones. Much like my mother had to do for me, I will most likely have to keep the Puppy Poison Control on speed dial (I was a mischievous little booger when I was a toddler & managed to eat anything I could get my hands on, vaseline, starch, toothpaste; even poo). Not that I don’t like that the pills are small; small pills are perfect for a fearful pill swallower like myself. But must they be so eager to bounce? I’m not the only one who has complained; my sister has lost a few, I believe, to this unnecessary characteristic of BC. &… whatever happened to MEN taking birth control? I heard about that somewhere. Whoever is giving this a go, they need to hurry faster!
—-There has been miscommunication between Lover & I up the wazoo all day long. He’s been busy & I’ve been bored stiff, so naturally there is bound to be some misunderstandings along the way. I am mostly upset about dinner. He worked late tonight (still isn’t home & it’s nearing 8 o’clock) so I asked him the age old question earlier in the day — what shall we have for dinner? I have never asked such a redundant & unanswerable question so much in my life! We’ve even gotten into quarrels over this. So naturally, his answer, as always, is “I don’t know.” Of course he doesn’t! He never does. Sigh. So, later he texts me to say that he is on his way home. Again, I ask him the rhetorical question & he suggests we go out. I don’t want to, for I am not fit to go out after a whole day of lounging in underwear & bed-head. I decline & somewhere along the lines I ended up getting frustrated by making a sarcastic remark about how I’ll just eat a peanut butter sandwich (yick). He hangs up… & I decide that I’m going to stop being such a pain & cook him a nice dinner. So I begin. I made a salad (another thing causing me frustration is that the life span of vegetables in this house is literally 24 hours. Somehow, they manage to turn to mush after just a few days of buying them. So, regretfully, the salad had just a few slivers of tomato & red bell pepper. Everything else was dead.) I stir-fried some potatoes with onions (thank you, Trader Joes!) & I made these wonderful bread sticks in the oven. The dinner looked lover & smelled tasty. By 7 o’clock, I was beginning to wonder where my husband was; it was over an hour since I last talked to him & it doesn’t take him that long to come home. Where could he be? Oh… he was just around town, picking up dinner. (!!!) So here I was, slaving in the kitchen, a hot mess, for no… reason. Okay, there was a reason. I was able to enjoy the super-deliciousness of my meal all alone, while composing this entry. But still. I probably would have made a peanut butter sandwich if I had known he was going to pick up dinner. I’m an advocate for saving money; especially now that I am Mrs. Unemployed. Sigh.
For some reason, Lover & I have been having these “Oops! I misunderstood!” moments quite often. A lot of it has to do with the fact that Jonathan is so laid back & doesn’t give much detail in his descriptions about life & I am the opposite; if something happened to me, or if something is happening to me, I describe every color, every emotion, every smell there is. In return, I expect him to act the same, seeing that this is the most logical way to communicate. I mean, you don’t ask someone what kind of birthday present they want just to hear the answer “I don’t know.”
Now I am so frazzled & annoyed that I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I had a few more things to add to this maddening list but I’ve forgot them in the attempts to describe in full detail about the other shitty things that happened. (I suppose this is why Jonathan chooses not to go into graphic detail, because you tend to forget when you’re investing all of your efforts into one thing. I get it now.) & Lover is finally home & brought ME dinner, too. But of course I’m not hungry. I just stuffed my face with carbs.
I am irritated. & ridiculous.
Thursday, March 27th, 2008
I have put myself in a terrible situation: I have become far too used to being a “stay at home housewife.” It’s dangerous & I do not know if I can reverse it. It’s all because of my runaway imagination.
I woke up this morning to Lover gently kissing me on the cheeks, telling me that he was on his way to work. I smiled at his kisses & then smiled a bit bigger when I realized that [as usual] I have all day to myself, to do whatever I wish, however I wish & whenever I wish. Lover left a few moments later & I stumbled out of bed, greeting Sofie at the top of the stairs. I then decided that I was going to make myself breakfast. While the coffee was brewing, my super-delicious, gigantic cinnamon rolls were baking in the oven. I took a moment to thank God for allowing me to have this precious time to myself & for also allowing me to indulge in these amazing cinnamon rolls. It was the perfect morning; I enjoyed every sip of coffee, every bite of sticky rolls with gooey icing & all the while I kept thinking “this has got to stop. It must, or else you’ll be stuck here because you have grown fond of being free & careless. This was only supposed to be temporary, my Dear; just a few weeks of pleasure & then it’s back to the grueling responsibility of finding employment. You must! Husband can’t carry this heavy load alone.” Unfortunately, as much as I wanted to yell back, “Leave me alone!” or hum loudly to imply that I wasn’t listening… I had a harsh wakeup call when I realized, Oh… so THAT’S what I’m supposed to be doing; in the midst of my pleasure I had forgotten. I’m really trying not to think of it now because I don’t want to go back to work. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t mind if I never went back to work. The more days I spend here lollygagging & having mini adventures around my town, the more I cannot see myself going back to work. It sounds funny when I type it; I’m close to laughing at the predicament I’ve gotten myself in. But it’s really quite serious & I don’t know what to do.
It all started when, just a week ago, Lover had revealed to me that he had been offered a permanent position with a company that will pay him ten times more & offer an amazing package of benefits. He told me this very nonchalantly, like the probability of this actually happening was slim, he just wanted me to be aware of what was said to him today. Naturally, I was already starting to plan the rest of our year. (Oh, wonderful! Then that means I won’t have to work & if I don’t have to work then I can stay here & write. Maybe I can write a memoir! Maybe I can take up flower arranging; oh I’ve always wanted to do that. We could save money now & move to Seattle if we’d like. Or… or… we could take a vacation. Or… we can get a car! We could even get a better apartment! Oh the possibilities are endless. Yipee!) Silently, of course, not realizing that I was getting a bit over my head. I was so excited (actually, I still am, who am I kidding) & so it has been for the last week or so. I even told my mother about it who is just as thrilled as I am. Although… she’s not making it any better for a dreamer like me because she’s telling me that basically, he’s already got the job. She said to me: “Oh Ev’Yan; he’s got this. I mean, there’s no arguing with that. He’s got the job & this is fantastic!” Sigh. But he doesn’t have the job; he hasn’t even met with the “boss” about the job yet. There is nothing sealed is stone, there is nothing signed on paper. The only person wrapped up in a dream, in my own personal La La Land, is me. It’s a wicked, wicked thing & now I am reeling over it. I can’t seem to put myself back into Unemployment Panicking Syndrome mode. To prove to myself that I am fully aware that nothing is definite, I tried looking for jobs today online; something of which I haven’t done in, oh… several days. But, alas, I couldn’t focus & ended up doing something a bit more intriguing, which was looking at fashion articles for inspiration on what to do with my bulging closet. I even tried to scare myself silly, basically saying things like, Well… you know that rent is due & when that check gets cashed you will only have ___ in your account & that is awfully scary. Oooo, so scary. & you know… even though things would manage okay if Jonathan had to be the sole financial support, it would still be cutting it awfully close. Scaryy. Horrible. Oh, the agony… Nope… that didn’t help either. My mind is literally too distracted, too fixed on this idea about the new job. Fuck, in my brain, he’s already got the damn job! I have no idea what to do.
It’s nearing 3:30pm & what have I done all day? I have uploaded [amazing] music onto my iPod; I have given Sofie a bath; I have had a beautiful breakfast & an even better late lunch; I have cleaned the kitchen; I have watched a few hours of television; I have looked for jobs for a mere 30 minutes - tops; I’ve talked to my sister, my mother, my husband & my friend, Ross; & now I sit here, shaking my head, thinking of the mess I have made within myself.
I talked to Lover about it on the phone & all he can say is “Babe… now I wish I never would have told you about the job.” I wish he hadn’t either. Then maybe I could actually get some real work done. I’m being hard on myself because I realize that I am living a dream right now & pretty soon, I am going to wake up to the reality that Jonathan didn’t get the job & well… Ev’Yan doesn’t have a job at all. & when that happens, I will most likely burst into a fit of tears at my reckless imagination & then stress the hell out to the point where I physically can’t do anything because I am so mopey.
Yes; something’s gotta give before I’m up a creek without a paddle. Sigh.
Tuesday, March 25th, 2008
When I finally made the decision to move in with Jonathan, I was surprised at how easy it was to just… leave. The love between Jonathan & I was impeccable; something that was undeniable & inspiring. It seemed like the most rational & logical thing to do at the time. So, with little reluctance & a lot of anxiety, I left my childhood home (I had stayed in the same town, in the same house, in the same bedroom for all of my life upon moving). I remember driving to Jonathan from my mother’s house, tears streaming down my face. Not in sadness, but in happiness & accomplishment & fear. I was proud of myself for finally deciding to do something for myself & I made a vow that from that point on, my life would finally begin.
& it has. It has been almost a year that I have been living with Jonathan & the transformation within me is indescribable. Although… it took me many, many, many months to get to where I am now. There were many downfalls, a few gut-wrenching surprises, a lot of nerves & a few dozen, very scary panic attacks, all of which I survived but at the time it seemed like I was dying. But of course… what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
When I first started working as a front desk coordinator at a salon (one of my first real jobs, next to doing hair for a few months) I felt like I was lost but in a good way. As though I could find my way around this foreign land & maybe conquer some of it, as well. It was tremendously overwhelming to be so far away from home & having to adapt to new surroundings & situations all on my own, without the physical guidance of my mother, my best friend. Sometimes I felt liberated about this, but mostly I crumbled. One day, I was having this horrible homesickness; the kind that literally numbs you & makes you question reality. My manager pulled me aside out of the blue & told me quite bluntly that I am too much of a nice girl & that I need to grow tough skin. Now… this wasn’t the first time I have heard this but for some reason, it bothered me. I started wondering how she could see through me in that way because I hadn’t spoken to my manager about my homesickness or anything like that. We weren’t even really friends. But somehow, she was able to detect in me something that I thought I was able to hide really well. She said “you must stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. You must stop being so kind to people; people will see your kindness & mistake it for weakness & naivety.” I was furious at this; after all, how dare she?! But, I took her words very personally & made it my mission to be tougher, harder, colder & not so friendly in order to not be walked on & to be taken seriously. Because, for someone of my age, no one really takes you seriously & it’s nothing against you… it’s just expected that 20 year olds are quite, well, oblivious. I was so gung-ho about this new mission that I even started walking like a snooty bitch, just to give people the idea of “don’t fuck with me.” I laugh at this now — this was only a mere 10 months ago — because I was really quite ridiculous. I was only fooling myself.
After a few weeks of this false front, I began to grow tired of being a bitch. It’s hard work for someone who doesn’t know how to do it! I started to do the strangest things out of the blue, as if to prove to myself that I am still in some sort of control & I can be nice & tough whenever. As if it were this sort of switch I could turn on & off. I, this painfully shy & nice girl, was now starting to become bold in her efforts to prove something to herself. An example of this would be that once, I was standing in line at the grocery store & this girl in front of me had a rather ugly purse… I mean, it was hideous. So I blurted out “I love your purse.” I startled myself at my dishonest remark, but I was simply just trying to be nice to prove that I could, indeed, be nice. She smiled, said thank you & went on her way. I went on my way, too & while I did, I strutted my usual snooty bitch walk, proving that there is a time & place for this new craft I was attempting. (Oh, brother.)
But this ludicrous fad ended unexpectedly & thank goodness it did. This is what happened: I was moping to my Lover one day about how I wished that I could buy something fancy since, at the time, I hadn’t been shopping for many months. Lover, being the dear he is, then reached into his wallet & handed me a twenty dollar bill & said “Buy yourself something nice, but don’t spend it in one place.” I never carry money on me & I never think to take out money… so something about it being HIS money & so readily available in my wallet made this somewhat of a thrill for me. I kept that twenty dollar bill in my wallet for about a week. I felt like a child; what would I buy with my twenty dollars? I decided that I must save it for something really, really good. One afternoon, after having lunch with Lover at his work, I was driving home. I exited the freeway & came to a stoplight at an intersection. To the left of me, there was an old homeless man, standing outside in the cold, holding a sign proclaiming his misfortune. He looked so sad, so helpless & so desperate. Without even thinking — & I really didn’t think, I didn’t have time because the light was going to change any second — I reached inside of my purse, grabbed my wallet & took out my treasured twenty dollar bill. I made sure to crumple it a bit so that it would seem as though I was giving him a dollar… I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I rolled down my car window & handed the crinkled bill to him. He took it, said “God bless you” a few times… examined the bill as if to determine if it were real… began to put it in his pocket & then he checked it out again. His eyes became quite wide (all of this happened within seconds, mind you) almost in disbelief & he seemed to shake his head as if to say “you just gave me twenty dollars! are you crazy?!” But I just looked at him, nodded & — perfect timing — the light turned green & I sped off to my home.
There was so much joy in my heart that day; I was beaming all afternoon. What a terrific, spontaneous, random act of kindness! When Jonathan asked me what I bought with my twenty dollars it was all I could do to keep from saying “I bought myself back.” But I just smiled & said that I gave it to a homeless man.
Since then, I do the best I can to give to the poor on the streets (there are hundreds of them on the streets of LA daily) if I happen to have some cash on me, which is rare. I also remind myself of that moment whenever I start to compromise myself & what I truly stand for. There is nothing wrong with wearing my heart on my sleeve; there is nothing wrong with being kind & loyal & a bit naive for the benefit of others. There is nothing wrong with being a small town girl.
Monday, March 24th, 2008
Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending on how I look at it) there were no Easter festivities today whatsoever. Most of the day was spent being boring & lazy. Yes, I am complaining about it but only because my wretched expectations get in the way. I suppose I envisioned Lover & I waking up slowly together (which we did) & eventually make our big breakfast since it is Sunday (which we didn’t) & then maybe stay indoors until around noon, then go outside, since it was such a wonderful day out; maybe window shop, maybe go to the park as originally “planned.” That & a few other things. But the only exciting thing that happened to me today was going to Ralph’s & picking up a few items, one of them being those giant Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls that I love so much. Pathetically & regretfully, that is all that happened today for me. Lover spent most of the day sleeping. On the couch, in our bed. Sometimes just day dreaming while looking out the window & then eventually drifting off into a deep, snore-filled sleep. Tonight at a little past 11, he announced that he was going to bed for the night because he was tired. How could one be tired after sleeping until noon & then taking a 3 hour nap during the day? Honestly. I can’t help be a bit perturbed at this. For someone who spends most of her time isolated (by choice at times) from the world, dying to have an excuse to put on her best things, I live for weekends. God knows that even though I stay fairly busy during the week, the last thing I would want to do is stare at this computer screen, idling through the internet, bored stiff. Sigh. There is no choice but to get over it. But I truly feel that this day was a waste; I keep asking myself, where did my Sunday go?
I was in a sad state most of today, that is something undeniable. Lover noticed it, as well. Most of it had everything to do with what was mentioned above & then a part of it had to do with it being Easter (for heaven’s sake!) & not doing one little family oriented thing all day. Upon driving to the supermarket, I witnessed dozens & dozens of cars parked on my street. These were obviously family members that have come from out of town to celebrate with their loved ones. I saw on pair walking on the sidewalk up to a house & they seemed to be carrying rather large dishes. Casserole, maybe? Or jello? I saw families outside, playing with each other. People taking their elderly loved ones or their dogs on walks, pointing at the scenery around them, showing off their neighborhood & successes. I even saw a whole party dedicated to family! They were sitting in the front yard of a small house… there were about a dozen tables, one of them reserved for the younger ones. They were all sitting outside, enjoying the beautiful day, laughing & enjoying each other’s company. I could smell the food cooking as I drove slowly past. I smiled, happy to see this kind of unity. Then I got sad again; I miss my family. It’s not that I even miss Easter with my family because Easter was never a big deal to us. I just miss the comfort of my childhood home… my bedroom, my backyard. The way the air smelled when my mother was cooking in the kitchen. The way my stomach growled while watching her create an original recipe. I miss my father serenading us with his guitar, waiting to be called to the dinner table. I miss the playful banter that went around our dinner table, as well. We all had assigned seats at the table & they never changed. My father was to the west, my mom was to the north, my sister to the east & I was to the south. This NEVER changed. The only time our seating positions was changed was when my father left… & I resumed his position to the west. Why I did this, I don’t know. I almost feel like it was a metaphor. That somehow, I became apart of the head of the household. Strange that I think of that now; I hadn’t thought of it before.
I was thinking today how much things have changed in my life & in the lives of my families. We’ve all gone in different directions, literally. My sister is in Texas, my mother 2 hours away from me, my father relatively close but certainly not close enough to want to see him everyday & my family… here. Almost in the middle. Again: I miss my family. I say family & mean the 4 of us, together as one family. Not speaking of them separately. Nothing will ever compare to the life I had before the one I have now. That is an obvious statement. I suppose I mean that nothing will ever be the way it was when I was safe in my childhood home, with my parents & my sister. There has never been no other comfort that comes close. Strangely enough, going to my childhood home (as mentioned in my hauntings & ghosts entry) doesn’t make me want to stay. I actually hate going back; it’s almost scary. I can’t explain why; it is just this way.
Lover is now snoring; I wonder how many times I will announce this while writing, as though it’s necessary? I am not tired. I took a few large bites out of this dark chocolate Easter Bunny that Lover gave me a few days ago & I’m a bit wired. What is there to do so late at night? I could always watch Atonement again (a superb movie, by the way; absolutely brilliant). Or, I could play with my hair. Or, I could just cry a little inside about the reality of missing my family so much that it literally hurts; I mean literally hurts inside.
I don’t think Easter has ever made me this melancholy before.
Sunday, March 23rd, 2008
While Lover is soundly napping on the couch (this boy sleeps more than death itself, I think) I am going to indulge in the stillness of this Saturday evening, while eating my oh-so-delicious tomato, pineapple, onion & olive pizza, which instantly makes me think “pepperoni who?” (Upon being a new vegetarian, the food that was most difficult for me to give up, out of all the meats I ate regularly, was pepperoni. Pepperoni almost cost me my vegetarianism a few times. But I am stronger than you, Pepperoni! After all, you are composed of the leftover scraps of other animals.) The only problem with this slice of pizza was that they mistakenly put mushrooms on it & I despise mushrooms. So before every bite, I inspect the pizza thoroughly, making sure not to unknowingly chomp into a bit of mushroom. Just the thought of it makes me shiver.
We had a good day, which included us running boring errands: smogging my car, to which I told Jonathan that the anticipation of whether or not it will pass is much like taking a pregnancy test; & going to the grocery store. Surprisingly, those 2 tasks took all day. But it was nice just the same. The weather got much hotter today; so hot that sweat began to form between that little pocket between my breasts. Erotic as it sounds (& I’m really not trying to be) it is never pleasant for me. I don’t care where I sweat just as long as it’s no where near that crevice between my breasts. It’s possibly the most irritating thing to have happen on a hot day. For me, at least. Running around in the heat of the sun made me tired very quickly. The kind of tired that only a good Summer’s day could give you; except that I had to keep reminding myself that it’s not summer… but simply global warming.
I started thinking today about how awful it would be for the world to began gravitating closer & closer to the sun. I’ve seen this Twilight Zone episode over a dozen times about several people in an apartment building, trying to survive the intense heat as the sun creeps closer & closer to the Earth. Havoc & chaos is everywhere. There is no water, there is no ice, there are no clouds. Just death defying heat & no surrender from it; even indoors. People are moving trying to get closer to water, but the freeways are jammed packed. & then the air conditioning breaks in this artists home & she basically dies of heatstroke I’m assuming as she watches her paintings slowly melt from the temperature in her apartment. It’s so wicked. Out of every episode I’ve seen, this one scares me the most. For to me, as irrational as that may seem, it could very well happen. I remember thinking a few years ago that the sun seemed to be closer to the Earth. I was driving home & it seemed like the sun was right in front of my vision, but it was terribly bright, almost blinding. I got home & told my mom sarcastically, I think the Sun is moving closer to the Earth. Expecting her to laugh along with me, she just calmly replied “It seems that way because of global warming.” I didn’t believe her, so researched it myself. & so began my semi-obsession with the ozone layer & harmful air conditions & the ice melting in Antarctica, affecting the polar bears & the penguins. At one point, I remember that I almost had to stop caring as much because I started literally weeping for the polar bears & the penguins. I would start to speak about how horrible it is that people think that Global Warming is a myth (this being several years ago) & recite what I heard on the news or what I read on some website. Tears would well up in my eyes at the thought of those poor, innocent penguins in danger, as though they were blood relatives! This was in my old town & the reaction I got from people wasn’t sympathy it was a cynical “yeah, right” so to speak. Thus, another reason I simply had to live my desert town. In regards to the penguins & polar bears & other Arctic life, I still feel very strongly about them & the effects of global warming. But there is this part of me that shuts off the reality just slightly so that I don’t become so emotionally involved that I start actually trying to adopt a penguin, as if it’s the only thing I could do. I even find myself completely involved in the mistreatment of animals. Just one story about a dog that was malled by a mountain lion — which happened around this area several months ago, believe it or not — or the site of a dead kitty on the side of the road gets my blood boiling & my eyes watery. Sometimes I wonder why it is I have to be so damn compassionate about things I cannot fully change forever. It can be quite hard carrying other’s burdens without their knowing I am doing so. Then again, I put it on myself. No one ever asks me to.
Truthfully, I don’t know where I am going with all of this. My mind is simply doing the typing while I’m sitting back & enjoying the ride, or so it seems. It’s nearing 7:30pm & I am anxious to wake up my husband so that we can spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch, maybe sipping some coffee (our most favorite thing to do in the wee hours) & watch a sad movie.
Saturday, March 22nd, 2008
Another beautiful day in Los Angeles. I think I might take back what I said about rainy weather. Although I adore it more than sunny skies, I am really enjoying how nice it has been lately. What a gift it is to stray away from peacoats & fuzzy scarfs & boots. What a gift it is to be scantily clad in cut off shorts, spaghetti strapped, cotton tunics & droopy, long, thin-fabric vests. This is what I am wearing today, by the way.
As I was trying to find something clever to wear this afternoon, I was struck with the realization that I have way too many clothes in my closet. I mean… WAY too many clothes in my closet. My husband would probably say something like “duh!” to that, but truth be told, I never thought of this at all. Had I done that, I probably wouldn’t have overspent at Target the other day. Instantly, I became distracted at this realization & began to attempt cleaning out my closet for the 5th time this month. I was going through the articles of clothing like a very thick but elaborately interesting book. What I found were clothes that I had completely forgotten I had! Dressed & shirts & even a few pairs of jeans that I have neglected to give attention to. Needless to say, it was very embarrassing & I only ended up finding one measly little shirt to add to my pile of donations to the thrift store. One shirt. I can’t bear to see anything else go, although, I really need relieve my closet of so much clutter. So, from this day forward, I vow not to buy one article of clothing until (I’ll make it easy on myself, seeing as I’ve said this time & time again) oh… I don’t know; June? That seems reasonable. I hope to stick to this vow this time for the sake of my packed closet. I almost feel a bit sorry for the hangers that keep them; they’re jammed into each other in an unforgiving way. My closet is really a distaster but not in a messy way, just in the sense that there are so many clothes that it’s really quite overwhelming. I don’t know why it wasn’t obvious to me before about all of these clothes I have… I guess I never really counted my blessings.
I also told Lover that I am temporarily banned from going to Target. Period. & if I must go — they’ve got amazing deals on food items there, so I typically do my grocery shopping in that wretchedly hypnotizing place — he needs to come with me. I am not strong enough. He called me just now, actually, saying that he is done with his workout & is going to walk to Target if I’d like to join him. Proudly I declined. I’d much rather write, anyway. It saves me a lot of money.
It’s been a peaceful morning. I actually was startled awake this morning because it had dawned on me that I had slept through the whole night entirely. I haven’t gotten a decent night’s rest for about a week or so, due to the stresses of finding work (which I have put on hold for a little while to focus on my writing), obnoxious & senseless disagreements me & my husband have had & family worries (my mother has been consistently sick with something for a few weeks now; my sister is missing home, which is causing me to miss her even more & my dad’s distress seems to be that he has yet to change). All of these things aren’t in my face so much during the day so it all hits me at once when I am trying to get sleep; how convenient. Fortunately, it was very quiet last night; in my mind, I mean. Lover & I woke up at a shocking 10:00am this morning. I haven’t slept in that late in a long time. I could have slept more, actually… but my guilt got me out of bed. I had strange dreams, though, due to my eyes being completely shut all night. It felt like I had one long & uninterrupted dream last night that made no sense & kept switching stories every few minutes. All I remember is a doctor who was examining me (he was an OBGYN I think) a music festival that involved me getting high (shocking since that is far from my character) going joy riding with my sister through the streets of my old town, & a few weird fantasies about ex-lovers, which is very strange considering I haven’t given them not even 2 thoughts lately. Funny how the brain works.
I am going to go out & enjoy the sunshine.