We'll All Float On...

So much has changed it's hard to re-cap. I did indeed leave my hometown again; I couldn't stand it, I had to escape.


Three months and thousands of miles later, I came to the ultimate realization that I was running and running and running, but I could never escape myself. I had some amazing adventures. I fell in love beyond compare. I went above and beyond limits for living that I thought I had. I got pregnant (WTF!) by the man I fell in love with. I jacked UP my car in a variety of ways. I realized that running away was a mistake, and tried to go back to my parents' (for several reasons), but was shut down immediately. I was literally quite homeless for a long, bohemian, vagabond time.

I ended up back in Lexington b/c I have real friends here, good friends, and my son is here. My daughter is still with my parents in Memphis, which sucks. Not a lot is going well, but it's going, and I am trying to do better every day. I have gotten a job, and another job, and I am working on visitation with my little boy. I have a place to live with some friends who used to be neighbors, and another place to stay with an awesome friend I met going to school here. I'm right just today at approximately 18 weeks pregnant, and I am going to be having a little boy. I really wish I hadn't messed stuff up with my children though, and by leaving Memphis in June that's exactly what I did. So many things have occurred due to that decision, including the creation of a new life, that I don't know if I would go back and change it were it a possibility to do so, but I have a lot to make up for.

As far as the person I fell in love with... idiot.

So. There's my re-cap. I don't know if I will ever have time to write about my adventures on the road this past summer, but it was crazy and I had a lot of fun (and a lot of not-so-much fun, I met some amazing people that I will hold dear forever... but it's so much, I didn't even journal it like I should have, and now it's over and done with and I should have kept up with my writing more.

In any capacity, I am going to write a letter and go to bed. Being pregnant makes me extra tired lately.

anywhere but here...

I cannot take it anymore. My mom is so sick, in so much pain all the time, that I wonder if it was the right choice to come back to TN. If I had just stayed in KY, maybe life would have gotten better. If I go now to Florida, maybe life would get better. But I don't see it getting better here, even on my most optimistic days. I'm surrounded by hopelessness.

When I moved back into my parents' home, it was only 'to get back on my feet, and get back to Kentucky'. Well, my parents' home is now my deceased grandmother's home, and it's a mess. There's remnants of my childhood home everywhere, boxes upon boxes of things all over the place, and the room where I sleep is my grandmother's old room. It still has her furniture in it, her letters and bills in it, and her clothes are still in her closet. She's been gone for three years.

My mother has taken up permanent residence on the sofa in the living room. It's not a pretty sight. She's so ill all the time. I spent so much of my tax return trying to help her that I needed to spend on my daughter. My girl needs her braces worked on. She needs new glasses. I shouldn't have spent so much trying to catch up insurmountable medical bills on my mother; it hasn't helped her. $2000 later, she still has a tear in her intestinal tract, she still has an infected hole where a rotten tooth used to be in her mouth... I don't know what to do anymore. I'm scared.

I'm also broke. I got a job, but it's super part time. I'm only scheduled for 10 hours this week and next, and at $8.25/hr, that doesn't amount to much. How depressing. I am behind on everything. My storage unit in Kentucky is on the brink of re-possession. My car insurance is about to expire. I don't know what to do. I so don't know what to do.

My best two girlfriends here ended up being totally lame. Two girls I've known forever, I completely despise now. I don't want to be like those girls. I cannot stand the thought of either one of those girls. I wish I could have realized that they were people I didn't want to be like a long time ago. I made poor decisions in my choice of friends, and I am ashamed of that. I just don't know anymore what the right choice would even be, which is just as scary.

I'm just super lost and I don't know what to do. I'm so very anxious, it's like a pit in my stomach... a hard knot. It makes me want to throw up. I just need to know what to do. And I don't want the advice from any of the people I'm at odds with. Why is it so hard to make it through one day without feeling such despair??

so tonight that i might drink...

i really need to get these folks some patio furniture. sitting on some concrete with two of the best ladies i know, drinking cherry vodka and coca~cola. i totally almost went and saw my ex tonight... "the ex". why did i do something this silly when i know better?? because i love him. yep. i put it out there on the internet for the whole wide world to read. can you judge me? sure you can, but i really don't want to hear your judgements, because i'm sure every single one of you have your own personal kryptonite.

the ex, henceforth referred to as simply x, was possibly the love of my life. only a week and a month ago we totally ravaged each other. why was this a bad idea? hmm. several reasons, i suppose. but we went to freakin town, man.

i have a job interview very soon, at the place i was working when i first laid eyes on x. every time i have gone into that place, i couldn't help but look across the hallway to the store across the way, where i laid eyes on him. that cloud hat, that light blue hat with the clouds on it... i wondered why???

so i asked him. his eyes matched the fabric of the color representing the sky. the clouds had little sparkles in it. i told him i liked his hat; he told me that he had his head in the clouds. that's still how i think of him, as a boy with his head in the clouds. i spent lots of hours in that hat after that day. i miss that hat. i miss him.

the first time i kissed him it was magic. the last time i kissed him, it was the same. every glance, every gaze, every fight... they're all in those beautiful blue eyes. to think i used to take those hugs for granted. to think i ever did anything bad to him is reprehensible. people who don't feel honest regret, who think that everything happened to make you who you are today and all that mess, those people have had some shallow experiences or are fooling themselves into not dealing with remorse.

godDAMN i have remorse. if- that hugest word in the english language surmised in two tiny letters. if i had only done this, if i had only done that... if i hadn't been a selfish bitchy ho-bag so many times... if i'd listened to him without judgement or jealousy, if if if if if...

i should have married him. i should have done things right anf not made a clusterfuck of our existence as a couple...

why do i torture myself?

because even though he lives with another girl who has some sort of non-marital ring on her left ring finger, denoting some sort of pseudo-commitment... even though we have burned all of our bridges and made ropes to swing across anyway... even though it's almost seeming ill-fated (ah, the classic romeo/juliet bullshit...)..

none of it matters. i go when he calls if i am able to go. i've crossed states to have a moment if he came to me now, asked me to marry him and to try to make it against all odds, hand-in-hand... would i do it?

i would do it in a nanosecond. we would face the biggest shitstorm ever. i don't even care. we would work through it as grown up ass people (b/c after all, doesn't that sound so grown up??). it doesn't matter what people think, or who bets against us, if he was serious, and he looked at me with those eyes - those endless blue eyes where the ocean meets the sky and eternity and mirrors my soul - and he wanted to marry me, flawed, f**ked up me, this is what i would say...

i would say "of course".

and not only would i marry him, i would love him the way i was never able to love him before. so many people think monogamy is a useless idea... not i, not anymore. i've experienced enough to know that for the rest of my life, the only person i want to experience that kind of bliss with ever again is this man. would there be temptation to stray? maybe, bring it on! i would not even need to resist, b/c i'm in love and i always will be.

for the rest of my life, to the truest meaning of the words, i would cherish him. i want to grow old with him, i want to hold his hand and be his other half, i want to fulfill the role that i was created to play.

x, i love you more than i have ever loved anyone. i love you, and i always will. if you love something set it free? you're free, i'm free, come back to me where you belong... and i promise, even though it will be hard, even though there will be trials, i will remain faithfully yours.

i already am.

The Effect of Global Warming with Regards to Deforestation

Global warming is a serious issue. In-arguably, more people need to be made aware of how seriously it’s affecting us; it needs to become common knowledge and not something people have to go out of their way to research. Some companies and professionals people claim that global warming isn’t an issue humanity needs to be concerned about, but it is happening. Research from worldwide natural scientific research proves that not only is global warming an issue that is becoming more prevalent; it is in fact a serious and dangerous problem. There are many reasons attributed to climate change, including vastly unmonitored pollution and consumption of natural resources and fossil fuels. Rainforests in the tropics take in massive amounts of carbon, and release large amounts of clean, breathable oxygen. It is not common knowledge that the destruction of a single tropical forest (such as those in places like Indonesia and Brazil) can immediately emit as much carbon as emissions of carbon released over a five year period from plants powered by fossil fuels worldwide; in fact, 20% of the overall carbon emissions come from the destruction of the rainforests on the planet.

This issue does have many roots in morality. Regardless of scientific implications, the destruction of tropical rainforests makes millions of dollars for the people doing the damage. Money is a very serious motive and the long-term devastating effects are not reason enough for the profiteers to care enough about the ramifications of their actions. Their desire for wealth is bred by greed, and they don’t look into the bleak future they are creating with their financial gain. It is disappointing that these wealth-mongers control the decisions that they do, because they are obviously selfish and superficial and have no regard for future generations.

A good way to raise awareness to this issue individually would be through some form of social networking. Writing a post and informing friends about how the effects of rainforest destruction, as well as promoting ideas about ways to conserve and recycle paper would be a terrific way to get the word out. It would also be a great idea to contact local businesses, explain the benefits of using recycled paper products for office use, restroom towel use, etc. There are several good ideas on the Greenpeace website about effective ways of doing this, and one could refer businesses and peers to this site. At local festivals or Earth Day events, one could set up a booth to educate people. Also, fliers (made of recycled paper) could be put up in local coffee shops, libraries, etc., where the general public would have access to this information. If you have children, you can find instructions on the internet on how to make paper out of newspaper pulp, engaging curiosity and reinforcing the idea of conservation. One small action can affect many others; persistence is the key to spreading information.

This is a tremendously important issue and will absolutely take more than one person to solve. It is a good idea to find out who is responsible for the destruction, explain to others what is going on and ask if they are aware of the implications of the destruction of the rainforests. Affirmative actions could include the writing of online petitions and collect electronic signatures, email government representatives, teachers, and business owners. Raising consciousness to the matter and explaining the importance of the situation is very important. Emphasis on thinking on a global level and acting on a local level is key. I urge the readers of this blog to take what was written to heart and to please take one small step to begin slowing the damaging threat of carbon emissions.

Source:
N.A. (N.D.). The Climate Threat From Deforestation. Retrieved May 22, 2011 from greenpeace.org.
http://www.greenpeace.org/usa/en/campaigns/forests/forests-for-climate

Maybe this is why I can't stay in Memphis...

Memphis can be a rough place to live. All of the times I have moved away from this city, middle finger waving it goodbye as my car headed in any other direction, I swore I would never come back. Repeatedly.



What am I doing right this minute? Sitting on a porch in Midtown, already feeling the throes of horror that the humidity of the Dirty South will be throwing at me later this spring and in the forthcoming summer, and thinking of the situations and the people in this place that I seem to be a part of.



The more I think about it, the more I focus on my friendships and my familial situation and the guys who have come in to my world, seemingly interested but actually superficial, the more I am thisfuckingclose to getting up, putting whatever shit I can into my Elantra, and telling Memphis and all that goes along with it that it can fuck itself yet again, throw that bird up again, and drive... hoping this time that the Mississippi River actually does overflow and wash away all the shittiness in this town and all the shitty people in it.

e.e. cummings

Spring is intoxicating, beautiful and glorious and full of optimism. For some reason, these happy feelings brought e.e. cummings into my mind. I set out looking for a different poem entirely, but when I saw this image, I swiped it.

Further Googling (I'm quite sure this will become it's own verb) showed a hand-written copy of one of his poems by a man named Michael John March. His brother obviously loved him terribly much, set up this memorial page for him. And now, due to a random happenstance of clicking on things, now I am aware of and will remember him, though to me, he may as well be a dream.

Is it ridiculous for me to be such a sentimental, sappy, bleeding heart? Sometimes I feel like a must appear mad to other people, especially people more practical people, who would never give a second thought to the world's loss of someone they will never know.

I suppose I would rather be overcome with feelings as opposed to incapable of feeling them, even if I get hurt because of it. I would rather be hurt by opening myself up to the world, to life, to humanity... than to be lost in a crowd of numbness and indifference.

And so I say to you, whomever you might me, that I love you, and that I would give you a huge hug if you needed it, or my last dollar if you asked. Because after all, can't our life be measured by the amount of kindness we put into the world?

4/20 - Today

A really confusing happenstance with "the" ex...

One of the most bizarre nights of my life (followed by being let go from my job)...

Being a suddenly attractive object of affection from more than one person, when feeling more unsure of myself than ever...

Telling my beloved only and younger sister goodbye as she departs to live in another state with her fiance, far away from me and our memories...

It's been too difficult for me to think straight enough to write a proper entry. My thoughts are mashed, as if I'm dreaming, and it's honestly becoming difficult to discern the difference between asleep and awake. Incoherence and over-thinking cloud my mind, making me feel smothered, like I'm wrapped in a warm, damp sheet. It feels dark and humid, and I cannot tell which way gravity is pulling me. My head spins when I try to string together thoughts, words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs. It's become overwhelming, more of a task than a pleasantry. But after all, if I stop writing, if I stop pounding these keys and attempt to explain myself, won't I sink further into what feels like Depression's firm grip? Is it madness, or am I one of the only sane ones left? From one instance to another, does the navigational point change, do the sane and not switch places? Are we dashing back and forth in a frenzied, terrifying rendition of Red Rover, set on a bleak field, monstrous characters in masks playing the game in lieu of school children?

I digress. And I need sleep. My eyes burn from tears. Living can be exhausting, even without much physical activity. I would imagine my mind is in much better shape than my body, though very distressed.

The Cove

'Shenanigans'. That seems fitting, right? In case you're unfamiliar, the word "shenanigan" means specifically (according to the lovely folks at Merriam Webster): 1.: a devious trick used especially for an underhand purpose; 2a : tricky or questionable practices or conduct —usually used in plural, b : high-spirited or mischievous activity —usually used in plural.

Why, you may ask? Because inevitably, this ends up going down in any notable bar. I am able to write about my life in some sort of entertaining fashion primarily because of the establishment in which I currently work.

Things to remember:

- some people (grown, middle aged men- not just teenagers, kids!) will smoke weed wherever they want to, regardless of the fact that it's legal or not
- other people (same age group, in this instance) will straight walk around with remnants of cocaine on their faces, even though they've just been in a bathroom snorting it, where you know there's mirrors!! Just look at your face, sir! Don't walk out and make your lovely bartender have to point out the blow on your face!
- it is NEVER a good idea to let your bar staff shoot Jameson and drink unlimited PBR throughout their shifts. I mean, it's interesting, but it's hard to count money after a while and I'm pretty sure it's led to things being lit on fire by the bartenders... I wish I could remember that better.

Um... by the way, I'm NEVER going to open a bar...

The end of a trailer & material belongings...

So of course shit has gotten all willy-nilly nuts with my life once I attempted to incorporate the attention of a male into it. After his mother's death, I was helping him clean out her classy plastic trailer in Mississippi, because no one else was there, and because I am a person who genuinely worries when horridly shitty things happen to people for no apparent reason.

As I went through the belongings of a woman I will never meet, I found myself wondering if all that life amounts to in the end is in actuality a big heap of trashy metal with buckled floors, nicotine-stained furniture, and at least a few animals to piss all over the place that's full of useless knickknacks and whatnot, leaving quite the odor.

Layer by layer of shit was bagged, organized, or tossed. It wasn't the nastiest place I've ever been in by far, but you know when you get all the way down to the stank old carpet that has had furniture sitting on it for several years in the same place, you find all kinds of grotesque things that normally would not be visible, that normally your wouldn't have to vacuum up, it's pretty gross. And mouse turds on long-unused clothes in a dresser, kinda gross.

But my main concern became this: why was this woman out in a trailer in such a condition? Sure, she didn't want to bother anybody, but it seems like no one cared very much. Is that what my life will amount to in the end? Some tiny, antiquated strapped down trailer in a nephew's yard in Mississippi? I sure fucking hope not. And I damn sure don't want anyone to have to go through my things, disburse them, garage sell them, and have to tear my crappy little trailer down b/c it's so dilapidated. It's sad, depressing, and I felt like some creepy voyeur for going through all of her personal belongings.

Then, my thoughts turned to: "why do I need things? I won't get to take them with me!" This made me ponder the lives of people; every day, we toil away, trying to buy nicer homes, better furniture, clothing, whatever... and not a single bit of it is any good once you go, unless you're leaving your family behind something that's worth something. Why can't we thrive on experiences? Why can't we focus on love?

It's been an exhausting time, and that's not all that's been going on. This past weekend has left me bruised, confused, happy, unnerved... it's really a lot. On top of my life, it's a lot more.

'I cried as cameras caught my eyes; my tears turned into butterflies,. They fly away as caskets close, a new day comes you'll wake, unfold; smile when you feel the sunlight..'

I don't understand why caskets cost so much money. When I die, I really hope (& I am not joking when I say this) that my loved ones respect my wishes. I don't know what those wishes are precisely, but I do know that if I decide to go with being buried, I want to be shoved into the smallest, cheapest possible box that I could be legally put into, not shown to my loved ones after my death or embalmed.. I just want people to be able to remember me for my life, at its best too.

And if there's a service for me, or a memorial or whatever, I want it to be quite informal. Preferably with alcohol. I want smiles and happiness. I want people to be happy about whatever I did in my life, not unhappy about my leaving (because hopefully I get to go somewhere great after I depart this existence).

So anyway, a friend of mine's mom died this past Friday at 11:30PM. I didn't get to meet her, and I've only known my friend for a few months. Although we've texted quite a bit, we've hung out once. However, when he found out how sick his mom really was, I did meet up with him to do a favor.. and then Friday we hung out. I'm honestly not sure if I have chemistry with him, but I can tell you that he is a very good person.

So, tomorrow I'm going to his mother's funeral, to show my respect and support. I just know he likes likes me, and I am definitely not ready for a relationship. I cannot do it, it wouldn't be ok for whatever man I ended up with, or to me. I have far too much emotional baggage.

Anyway, what a weird past few days...

Beloved (Ir)regulars - Part I

The people I find myself coming into contact with at my place of employment never fail to amaze me. It's interesting to see the kinds of humanity in the world with whom I would probably have no interaction with, other than the fact that I work at a very eclectic, interesting bar that attracts people of all kinds. I have come to recognize and appreciate some of their existences. Somewhat akin to the theme song from Cheers,maybe these people do just want to go "where everybody knows your name..."

Mr Bud Smoker & Drinker...
Preferred Beverage: Budweiser
Smoke of Choice: Pall Malls & weed
A grad student that I would guess is in his 40s, maybe older, who happens to be ridden with palsy, this man will stagger in, always dressed in a rather snazzy fashion, his reddish hair and glasses looking somewhat akin to Austin Powers. He will sit at the bar some nights until we close, his voice utterly distinguishable, his stupor increasing. Since he lives around the corner from the bar (where he comes from, as well as where he returns to, is a mystery to me),he has the luxury of not worrying about driving- although I would assume his health condition would prevent him from having a license.
We closed on Saturday night and he stayed until the end. When everyone cleared out, he remained. He then proceeded to pull out a fat brick of some mid-grade schwag, break it up on the bar, along with a small one hitter, packed that shiz up, and proceeded to toke some weed in the middle of the bar.
With my thoughts going from shock to entertainment to fear, I then watched Randy decide that our head kitchen guy, Derek, needed a big block of weed for his tip out. This is when it got downright funny. He stuck it in Derek's envelope when all was said and done.
This man is an interesting and bizarre regular.

The Tall Redhead Realtor...
Drink preference: Gin & Tonic
Smoke of choice: Roll your own tobacco
He has one of my favorite names in the world, because it's my dad's name, and when I told him that, it probably freaked him out to a degree. Always well dressed, shirt tucked in, khakis donned and pressed, his choice in gin can fluctuate (understandable, the good stuff is pricy). The way he rolls his own tobacco is really cute. He has a very distinct laugh, not often heard (he seems to be the quiet type). Recently bestowed him with a buckeye someone in KY gave me. I always give him one of my shift drinks, because he rocks and I enjoy seeing someone enjoy gin & tonic (gin & I had to take a break.. we haven't been on great terms for years now).
Recently I rode with him to Alex's, an after hours bar. He has a huge red truck. I found out he is a realtor or works with housing of some kind. Probably a college graduate, very nice, also loves Modest Mouse. One person I would miss if I quit seeing him.

Mr Green(hair)
Drink Preference: Hoppy ass Sierra Nevada
Smoke of Choice: I acutally don't know!
At 38 or so, you would think one might be done with their crazy hair phase, but this guy has had this green tint to his hair since I met him 3 months ago. He always drinks Sierra Nevada. The last time he came in for an extended amount of time, he was with some people from the Czech Republic. That was the day before St. Patty's; the next day he came in, ordered his usual, only had 2, and informed me that he'd spent the night in jail in the suburbs for falling asleep at a stoplight. That was the last day I saw him, St Paddy's.

The Future Yale Attendee
Drink Preference: Pabst Blue Ribbon
Smoke of Choice: American Spirits
What a talented, intelligent, complex, captivating human being. Short, Asian, maybe even shorten than me, he is excited to report that he will be attending Yale shortly to pursue a Master's. He is monotone when he sings on karaoke night, even if he's doing one of the most hyped up songs ever). Soft spoken and timid, he attracts people to him like moths go to fire.. only he is not harmful. He's polite, caring, and he has a very bright future. He got a full ride to his first year at his Ivy League school. I know he's a brilliant artist with a great eye for photography. He never seems to be in a bad mood. One of the nicest people ever. I will miss him tremendously when he moves on, but I am really proud to have had the privilege of knowing him.

Crazy Karaoke Asian
Drink Preference: Bud Light
Choice of Smoke: I can't recollect, but I know he does it
This man is one of the coolest people. Ever. He has huge gauges in his ears, emanates the whole skinny jean, tight t-shirt, punk hipster persona. Every Wednesday, this guy throws the fuck down on some Karaoke. When he gets drunk, he becomes a hyper kid with all the conveniences of being potty trained and in control of his own life. When he's not around to punk it out & dance like he means it on Wed night, he's still cool as hell. Just this evening, I caught a glimpse of him dancing with an empty chip basket on his head. I'm going to have to get to know him better...

(More frequenters coming soon. This is the tip of the iceberg...)

Life

Life is really tricky. In this old country music song that used to play on my dad's radio persistently, Alabama would sing: 'All I really gotta do is live and die', but I am seriously thinking they over-simplified it.

The Most Blatant Display of Racism I’ve seen since…

My grandmother had her kitchen repainted over a decade ago. Something came on the news about MLK Day (she used to argue with the tv) and she yells something about how African Americans shouldn't have National holidays just for them (only in much less politically correct form).

I was embarrassed for the woman immediately, and I felt ashamed, because out of the two painters that were in her home working that day, one was black. Mom snapped at her, I gasped. I remember feeling so bad. And this man was so polite, he didn’t react with animosity or rage or anything.. and Grandmother realized at that point she was in mixed race company, but she didn’t apologize or try to explain herself, she just got all pouty and continued to say she just didn’t get it.

My granny was born in 1921 or 1922, and she remained ignorant of the fact that racial equality was supposed to be a big part of our society. She really didn’t seem to get it. The “N-bomb” was something she would say when talking of any black person, and I was raised to believe firmly in the fact that all people are people, and we have to look beyond things like skin color. However, it was something she was never capable of comprehending. She loved watching Oprah (she would call her “Opal”), but would always refer to her as “the N word”. Other television shows, like Sanford & Son, The Jeffersons, and 227, all about African American lives, were also among her favorites, but she never hesitated with the racial slur that has always made me feel so bad inside.

Anyway, it was Friday afternoon. I was late getting to the Revenue Office to get my temporary tags renewed, but I have to drive Maya to Kentucky for her spring break and I couldn’t go without expired tags. So the people in the office were nice enough to make an exception for me, because I was desperate and crying and such. They took pity on my plight, and let me in. I had to get my registration and license from the car, and when I went out, this little old lady pulls up into the handicap spot in this big white car with one of those miniature yappy little dogs, gets out, and slides in with me when I go back into the office, even though I inform her they’re closed.

This was an egregious error in judgment on my behalf, as I learned almost immediately. They asked her to leave (very politely), and said they couldn't make any more exceptions. She was argumentative, but she did go... just far enough to realize how pissed off she was about the whole thing.

Then she came back for Round Two. She banged on the door, asking for the manager. She started yelling at the Tax Collector and asked to speak to the manager above him. When he told her that he was the only manager, and that he ran the facility, she said, "I meant I want to talk to someone white!"

The manager turned around and laughed slightly, in disbelief. Aghast, I exclaimed, "Oh, no she did NOT just drop a race bomb!" then turned back to the woman with a serious face on and very professionally informed her that it was seriously nothing personal, and that he couldn't compel his employees to work over-time, as they are a gov't facility. I was sitting in this room, feeling pretty ashamed on behalf of this woman, and quite awkward, considering I was one unkempt looking white girl in an office with three very nicely put together, clean, nicely dressed black people (one was a male customer, sitting at the table across from me; one was a female, working behind the counter; and the only other person was the aforementioned manager).

Finally, the beastie of an old woman went away, and my shock turned to dismay, embarrassment, shame, and all sorts of sad things. I said something to the man across from me about how I couldn't understand why people even still have such an ignorance about races, and how really we are one race- the HUMAN race -and that regardless of any joking and stereotyping people do, everyone should be able to understand something that simple. I think I was more upset than anyone in the place. They were all super nice about it. The man I'd commented to told me that all you can do is pray for people, his temp tags were issued, and he left.

I mulled that over while the woman prepared my tags. She and her boss had done a great favor for me, and I felt that the old biddy's unladylike behavior was a horrid example of white people. I felt like crap. I left that day feeling a little disappointed in humanity. Now, I don't pray.. but I feel like I need to continue to emphasize that we are all one family to my daughter. All you can do is teach your children to grow up and be better than the generations before. When I see people laugh, cry, hug, interact... I don't think of what color they are or if they're going home to a certain type of existence. I appreciate cultural differences, but I understand that people are people, with feelings and emotions and no one person is superior to another because of race.

I would like to think that woman went home and thought about the shit curve ball she threw into that conversation, but I doubt it. All I really know is that I have thought about it a lot, and I refuse to ever let that kind of behavior emanate from me.

So yeah. What a fucked up day that turned out to be.
Don't be racist.

old friends, same places...

& i love you more than i ever recalled.

Fox News Obituary Trashes Kurt Vonnegut

Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ In Memory of Stephanie "Chad" Harrison Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ

From SunshineUnderground.net

Some comments from this thread:

05:24 PM, March 28th, 2007
For The Friends of Chad Harrison
Author: soundboy
Probably the candy raver of all time in the Memphis party scene Chad Harrison( thin, shaved head, cute cute, extremely kind and sweet girl) died this week in a car wreck with her sister Lily Harrison (who survived, but is still in the hospital). Her funeral is going to be at The Memphis Funeral Home at 3700 N. Germantown Rd on Saturday at 2pm. There will be a visitation on Friday between 5-8. They need Chads male friends to help with being pall bearers at the funeral.. If u knew Chad or know Lily share some love or kind words. Chad was in my opinion one of the nicest, kindest, most selfless and genuine people that has ever blessed the party scene in Memphis! U will be missed greatly Chad, but you left behind quite a legacy of spreading peace love unity and respect for everyone!


01:39 AM, March 30th, 2007

Re: For The Friends of Chad Harrison
Author: Better ways to Die
I met Chad before she got into the party scene- and even back then, she was all about making other people happy. She was always open to share whatever she had others, and never judged people. We connected again in the party scene, and she showed me a world like no other- I remember going to her house, and having the time of my life.

I remember getting the cutest candy ever from her!

I remember her always having the cutest outfits at the party and dancing all night and being happy! She always influenced people with her smile and joyful spirit!

I remember going to her house and at the end of the night, having 10 or more people surrounded in a circle making candy bracelets cause it just made us happy to do so!

I remember her "Fuckable Party Kids" list that she had! I still think it is the best thing ever. It's not always about the looks, but about the person, and she really brought this out and made others recognize this-

I remember she and her sister together- They were the best of friends- through good and bad- they were always there for eachother. An example we should all follow-

I remember going to the beach with her and Leslie-

I remember Stephanie dancing with the grace and beauty of a ballet dancer- Many people looked at her strangely because of her hair- but I thought she was beautiful! She was a beautiful person inside and out- She lived a hard life growing up, but she never let that show- She went out of her way to make sure everyone else had a smile on their face!

Stephanie- I wish I were able to tell you this today, but when we were in high school together, you were the one who inspired me to be who I was then, and am today- you taught me to stand up and out for myself- to be happy no matter what- to make those around me happy- And I'm sorry for not being able to be there for you now. For not having been there these past few years.

May you rest in peace, oh beautiful Stephanie! You are at peace at last! May your heaven be full of beautiful people and majestic peace~

With All of my love-
Msbek

There are a few other posts on the link, but I wanted to share some of them for you..

I ran into an old raver friend from way back at The Cove recently, super sweet girl, really big heart, always very sweet, used to see her at parties at Headliners and the Fairgrounds and such. How in the world it clicked where I knew her from is beyond me, but I remembered!! We started talking about the scene and people we used to know, and I mentioned Chad, asking if she knew she'd passed away. She didn't. I felt terrible and didn't know how to find her info, all I knew was that someone emailed me the forum link in 2007 when it happened. I was living in Kentucky, and as I read the words of soundboy, I cried with a hurt that has never gone away.

Stephanie, who went by "Chad", was a truly beautiful person. She was captivating. It was the one of the biggest highlights of my night when I would run into her. Slender, 5'6" or so, with these big, earnest, insightful blue eyes.. Chad was always smiling, always sweet. She would bring candy to parties for kids to enjoy, and it was always the bestest type of candy for the type of raves we were attending. Her hugs and greetings always made me feel so special. Even after I had to leave the scene (mid 2000) to have a child, I would still see her at 4/20 at Overton Park, and one year she brought a ton of bracelets that she'd made to give away. The one she gifted me is on my wrist right now, and I wear it often. glow in the dark plastic star beads, with green, light green, and blue beads in between the stars.. and alphabet letters spell out CHAOS.

I only have fond memories of her. I only hung out with her personally one time, when I picked her up from her house and took her to CK's in Bartlett, where we had coffee and talked for a long time.. I don't even remember what about really.. she was so captivating, I thought she was beautiful. She was the first girl to ever kiss me (at a party, neither one of us were sober), but the night we went out she kissed me under the influence of nothing. [At this point I will explain that no, I'm not gay, but if I would have ever been in a relationship with a chick, it would've been her for sure. I don't remember the exact last time I kissed a chick or a chick kissed me, but it's been years.. and I'm pretty sure inebriation was the cause. In any case, I do believe girls kiss way better than guys.. but then again, what can we not do better? (JOKE!) Anyway, she was magic. She was like a little kind pixie and I adored her.

The last time I saw her was at Overton Park. She gave me a big hug and although we hadn't seen one another in years, it made me feel so special to be recognized by her. She has always had such a special place in my heart. What an amazing person, and what a tragic circumstance that took her away from this plane of existence. My heart still goes out to her sister, who I doubt would remember me, as well as her family, who I never even met.. but my conversation at work last night reminded me of her more than the constantly worn bracelet.. and damn I miss that girl. I wish I could tell her how unique and amazing I thought she was, and how much joy she brought into my life. Even though I only got a glimpse of her world, I'm so grateful I had the opportunity to spend time with her.

Chad, Stephanie.. for me you will always be forever young, forever loved, and forever in my heart. I miss you.

If anyone has any pics of her, please send a message or comment and let me know. I would love to see her face again. Thanks so much.
☮♥

..♩.¸¸♬´¯`♬.¸¸¤..
"Do you realize
That you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize
We're floating in space?
Do you realize
That happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize
That everyone you know someday will die?

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round..."
~The Flaming Lips~
..¤¸¸.♬´¯`♬¸¸.♩..

My hell... it comes from inside of me. Why fight this?

If you want to call bullshit.. Please feel free to drop a comment below.

The New Orleans Incident...

Well. Life has certainly thrown some curveballs at me lately, and to be honest, I feel like I've reacted just like I did when the volleyball would fly at me in high school gymn class; I'd either duck in fear, or it would just pound me in the face.

I've totally fallen off of the non-smoker wagon. Like, hard. I have a pack in my purse right now. I go off and on with smoking and have since I was 16 or so. Why? Because it's addictive, and somehow soothing, I suppose. So here I am at the mercy of Camels again.. and I don't like it, but somehow they're like old, cancerous friends, here to help me out. Once I started working in a bar that allows smoking, it was all over.

Last week, last Wednesday actually, was the epitome of bullshit in regards to my very best friend in the whole wide world. She'd invited me a couple of weeks beforehand to go with her to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. The last time we ventured down there together (I think it was 2002...) we ended up on a balcony with The Fisherman getting crazy.. so crazy that we made it into the opening clips of that year's Cops Mardi Gras special. We saw Snoop Dog and his Girls Gone Wild Crew (no, we were not recruited or interested), got held up for an MTV video shoot of some slutty looking chick at Royal & Bourbon (turns out it was Christina Aguilera), like I cared, she and her big ass stage were in my way!

Anyway, a lot of things have happened in the last 9 years spanning these celebrations. My bff and I have seen each other through a lot of stuff. At points, I've been away for years from Memphis and she's had to leave and go through her own personal growth. Since I've been back in my hometown, we've been hanging out a little, slowly at first, because it's like neither one of us really trusted the other. It seems that at this point in time, she's actually become friends with our mutual local family doctor. I so don't like this. It's not ok, because BFF is still a patient of this DR, and that's really frowned upon I believe, if not unethical. It's extra weird because DR is in some kind of weird midlife crisis where she abhors her husband and has really began to believe that she is a psychic vampire. My BFF is intrigued by this. She thinks it's hilarious that DR is super into it, and likes to text/message/whatever with her about exchanging energy and whatnot.

And here begins my angry tangent over what my personal opinion about this is. I think it's bullshit. I understand the whole need to try something new deal, but this is just weird, man. Especially if you are a person who's gone through medical school, I don't see how you could possibly believe that something like this is a possibility. However, I'm not hatin'. I think most forms of any organized religion are a crock, and when it comes to folk religions, I think they're mostly superstition. I think that everyone has their own path, and that it takes all kinds. It's just really hard to see a woman who has given me pap smears, and been my doc since I was a teenager (off and on) that I have no clue how to deal with it. Let it be, I suppose, because personal and professional lives are completely different things.. UNLESS you are sharing your personal life with one of your patients.

Anyway, I was asked to go, and I decided that I would, but it was not without reluctance. I didn't really think it seemed like fun, considering the company, the fact that I had no money, etc. BFF said that her "boyf" would take care of things, and he did agree, and I told them I wasn't really wanting to take anyone's money or whatnot, or be a 5th wheel in a couples thing, but "boyf" said that if it made BFF happy, I should go, and he was glad to take me.

Then, the day before we were all supposed to leave, "boyf" calls me and tells me that he's really sorry, but his wife wants her child support a week earlier than usual, because something really important has come up, and he can't afford for me to go. Even though it was a relief in some ways, it was still a disappointment, but hey, the dude's kid far surpasses the importance of taking me on a trip to Louisiana. Also, I wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around DR, so I told him it was fine.

Thursday comes along; they'd been down there a night and a day, and I get a phone call from "boyf". He left BFF in New Orleans b/c of all the stuff she was doing, the way she was acting, etc. I am not going to go into all the sordid alleged actions and details of what my BFF had been doing, but I will say that "boyf" told me that BFF had made him lie to me. I was uninvited because DR didn't want me to go. What the fuck, man? Really?

It was like a punch to the gut. I still don't really know how I'm going to get over it. I was going to never talk to my BFF again, considering I was thinking about all of her negative tendencies, but then I reconsidered. She's apologized and such, but how am I supposed to believe anything she says? I'm her friend and I know how she is... it's kind of like "The Puppet-master". She spins so many lies and gets caught up in so many deceitful actions that honestly, I don't know if I should be affiliated with her. Yes, everyone lies sometimes, but it's almost like she lies to make this big huge drama web that I want nothing to do with. It doesn't make me feel comfortable.

So, my relationship with her at this point is on very shaky ground.. and I don't like it. I'm keeping my distance, and I don't really know what I'm going to do with her. She's like my sister; you don't just abandon people you've known your entire life, do you? I would like to think not.

This is me talking about one of the first things that has me totally stressed out. There are many more things to come, but this was the beginning of the whammies I've recently been receiving.

Time to go.

even as i left fl...

just found out my little sister and her fiancee put an offer on a house in florida. i have been musing over moving back for a while... but i don't know. there's so much to think about. i'm all flustered.

I'm on a BOAT!!

The Lonely Island boys are some funny guys. I like it. (If ONLY they could be Flight of the Conchords. Oh, how I love those New Zealanders. I know these guys are just American actor dudes.. but they remind me of FOTC.)

I'm On a Boat!

funny that tonite i would choose this tree...

i just found out my best friend lied to me, betrayed my trust, and acted like a total bitch. what hurts the most? the lies, for sure. with her, i'm usually not assertive, but this is ridiculous.

You Are Confident and Dominant

You are a very independent, do it yourself kind of person. You've had to rely on yourself. You know how to be strong for yourself and the people you love. You have a protective streak. You sometimes come off as a little assertive. You know what you want, and you're not afraid to go get it. The only thing you require from people is that they're straight with you. You are ready for the truth.

The Tree Test

Blogthings: Waste Time at Work!

bouganvilla seeds

i had a dream last night that i was having a baby (i am definitely not. celibacy is 99.99% effective, after all.. the exception being christ's mom or whatever). i remember going into labor and feeling like i could take care of it on my own. then i realized it was a horrid mistake, and when i pushed, the baby fell out without a sound. it's eyes could barely open, it was so tiny and pink, and the umbilical cord intact, and it opened its little mouth and scrunched his eyes and he was so small (i never really determined the sex, but i kept calling him a he). he looked confused, like he just wasn't supposed to be there. and the dread set in when i realized he wasn't ready to be born. he was too premature. i'd no clue how long i'd been pregnant, but it was not long enough, and this cold panic set in. i called for a nurse, i was freaking out, just telling them over and over to please save him, to keep him alive.

his father came into the room then, someone i have loved and known, and the look on his face when he saw the baby was amazing. the nurse was listening to the baby's heart, her eyes widened, and she shook her head, telling me he had maybe 3 minutes left. i implored the nurse to get an incubator, to warm him up, to give him oxygen and iv meds, but all she could say was how sorry she was, and there was nothing to be done. it was over before his life began, before he could even cry.

my heart broke and i handed him to his father so he could see him, caressed the baby's little body, and together we slowly watched the color drain, the shallow breathing cease, until he was cold. he turned an almost translucent grey color at that point. i was devastated.

then it got stranger. i told the nurse it was like he never existed at all. it was surreal, terrible and sad. i was left alone to mourn, but someone very unlikely came in. it was the father's ex-wife. she told me she knew what i was going through because it had happened to her as well. we've always really disliked each other.. but this was the first time i felt she was being genuinely nice to me. we had a common pain that we'd shared with a man we'd both loved, and we actually hugged. it was crazy.


i don't know why this dream would spring to mind, but it made me begin to analyze. first, i wondered if it's because my ex and his wife are pregnant, and the fact that she's had 4 miscarriages is heavy on my mind.
second, the very obvious tragedy that the father in the dream and his ex-wife went through together.


how odd. it was so sad. it made me mourn a child i will never see. i'm a mess. at least i recognize it.

and now for music.. i am addicted to sam beam. i am suppsosed to see him at sasquatch but am seriously reconsidering going because the rainbow gathering is one month later in washington state, and i want to bring miss maya with me, if i can get in touch with a friend i haven't seen since i was in san fransisco last (2006).
in any capacity, here is tonight's music, and for some reason, hearing it is what made me remember my dream. enjoy.

Happy Birthday Granny

today was my grandmother's birthday. i am going to weed the flower beds tomorrow for her, and hopefully make it to put flowers on her grave for the first time. i miss her so much.

grandmother, mrs mary frances floyd wigman, i love you so much. i think of you all the time. i remember how exciting it was as a child to spend the night on saturdays and watch the golden girls and go to church with you on sunday.

since you've been gone, that blue plate cafe you and auntie liked has closed, and ryan's i think is still open. i haven't noticed if picadilly is or not.

i'm so sorry about the state of the house you left to mom. i'm doing the best i can but it's like swimming upstream, and i do intend on at least weeding your front beds tomorrow, fertilizing them, and i may have to replace your barberries.. it kind of looks like the weeds were allowed to choke em out. i won't let you down. if i could send letters to heaven, i most certainly would.

you were one of my favorite people in the whole world. i'm going to stop before i cry... but wherever you are, hopefully happy with grandfather, i hope you are in peace, and i would like to think you're looking down to check in on me, at least sometimes. i'm up against a lot, gran. i know you know. it's hard.

just wanted to let you know i was thinking of you. you made such a difference in my life, and it was all positive. thanks for helping with homemade play-dough, giving me angel food mint chocolate chip ice cream in tupperware bowls and letting me cut it into pies after mushing it down, sharing so much of your life with me. even though you're gone, i carry you in my heart, and you're with me all the time. i adore you.

bye for now.

Mr & Mrs Wigman - January 1944

it's a JOY to meet you!

last night, i didn't get to finish typing about what happened at work. there was a guy sitting by the service end of the bar. he looked all scruffy and rough, and was adorned with really nice tattoos. he was very pleasant and after a couple of hours of drinking, his voice began to sound a lot like tom waits.. which i joked about with him. every time i tried to remember his name, i called him "tim", but his name is ben. i kind of thought he was adorable.

my best friend stopped in with some people. one of the people she was with, paul, ordered 3 paninis and i told them drinks were on me, not food. i got my discount for the food, but when i took the check to paul (who i haven't seen in years), he just looked at me like i'm the one with brain damage instead of him. so i played it off like it was no big deal, but honestly i was pretty irritated. then he didn't leave a tip at all.

at this point, my friend and her entourage had exited, and ben was sitting at the bar with this guy named doyle, who was also very cool. when trivia ended, evan, isaac (another co-worker) and i talked to those guys for a bit. they were funny, ben recommended that i see some tv show called the wire, which i will have to check out, bc he's all about some always sunny and that is one of my fave shows EVER!, and i told him he's got some shameless to catch up on, because it's my new favorite addiction.

then i started bitching because i had to cover a $30 tab for those paninis. it really irritated me. it was rude, even though i played it off like it was cool. i was going to eat it, and ben bought them. i was like, "dude, no.. you definitely do not have to do that!" evan just took his money, though, and i thanked him. it was one of the nicest things a stranger has done for me in a while.

so the crowd clears out. no one comes in for an hour or so. ben and doyle leave for 'the buc' (the bucaneer), a place i had never been nor really known about.

after he left, my co-worker evan (who is awesome)told me that ben is the singer for this local band called lucero, which isn't very local anymore. i remember seeing them over a decade ago and there were only a handful of people at the show. i want to say i was at the deli, but i could be wrong. i remember thinking their name reminded me of a santana song or something.

never paid much attention, but over the years, just like cody and luther in north miss allstars, i saw the band name get bigger jigs at festivals, etc. he just got home from a national tour with his 5 bandmates, which i'm sure was both arduous and fun. i had been yammering on about my life when he asked questions, because he said he'd just gotten back, and so have i, and he asked where i've been, and when i consider where i've been when i think about my life right now, it's pretty astounding. so i'm talking to him about my life, and how it circled back to memphis. when i asked him about his travels, he was super vague. now i know why and feel like kind of a shithead. obviously, he's kind of a big deal to people all over the country who are familiar with his music. for me, he was ben, wearing black gloves with the fingers cut out and an old army jacket over a red lumberjack looking shirt that reminded me of my dad. the cool thing about that is, i will never see him any other way, even though their new tour lineup looks fantastic, and he doesn't just sit at home playing rock star, he apparently is one.

since we closed pretty early, isaac and i went to the bucaneer with evan to see if anything was going on. normally i leave and go home, this was the first time i'd been invited to go out with the guys, and i thought maybe ben would still be there (seriously, i don't think lucero is my type of music.. but i wanted to see him again).. and he was.

..and he was totally shitfaced and a huge asshole. i was sitting with isaac at a table watching friday and drinking a blue moon, and he was down at the end of the bar closest to the door. there were a lot of people in this dive. it reminded me of this anclote river bar that you can park your boat at in fl, and go in and meet bikers; it's like this little shack. the buc is super similar in the way it feels inside, tiny and squished by the bar, bigger rooms on the other side. interesting mix of folks in that place. i chilled with evan and isaac and didn't say anything to ben or doyle for a long while. when i did go to say hi, ben was a dickhead. i guess he'd had way too much to drink, and i was a little tipsy too, and all i did was go to say hi, and he told me to fuck off with this look in his eyes that was very serious. repeatedly. at first i thought he was kidding, but when i realized he wasn't, my feelings got really hurt and then i got really pissed. i told him he could fuck off and walked back to the small two-top i'd been sitting at with isaac.

he actually yelled at me to get original material, so i yelled at him to fuck himself with a gerbil, and to just let it run around in his intestines (or something super fucking bizarre), and evan came back over and told me to stop.

he gives me this whole "oh, he just got home from a super long tour and he's shitty drunk and you don't know who he is and he's used to people buying him shots all the time".. and i didn't give two shits. he had been blatantly mean for no reason, leaving me feeling stupid as hell. and evan reminded me he was nice enough to pay for the paninis, and i told him i'd give the fucker his money back, and all these tears were welling up b/c why would someone be mean for no reason (and also i have a tendency to cry easily when i drink- easier than usual!).

either way, i was right and evan told him to apologize or he decided to apologize or something, but he came over and took both my hands and looked me dead in the face and told me he was sorry he'd been such a huge jackass and that there was no cause or excuse for it. and then i'm all tryin not to cry, but i'm still pissed, and i'm hanging onto his tattoo-covered hands and looked right back at him, and i asked what had happened to him that has made him the way he was acting, where had he been?

those are probably things i will never know. he left shortly after, alone, hunched over, super drunk, no one stopped him from driving, i had been the only one who had called him out over being a shitass, and his "friends" just let him go when he was probably the worst off out of everyone in the damn bar that should drive anywhere.

i've never been a rockstar, nor will i ever be, but as i watched him leave in his army jacket and fingertip-missing gloves, i felt a wave of loneliness for him. evan says that when he's home he's a dork and plays dungeons and dragons or something silly. it's hard to imagine that someone who is a local celebrity, recognized everywhere he goes by someone, can be leaving a bar alone at 4:30am by himself to go digest his liquor alone.

he was so human, so normal, such a douche, and then he was genuinely sorry about it. for a minute i wish he hadn't been a successful musician, because he's someone i would like to know.. that won't happen, but what a nice man. that's my conclusion. ben nichols is a nice guy. maybe his loneliness was perceived wrong, and i was just seeing something in myself reflecting back out of him. you can be surrounded by people all the time and still feel quite alone. it's weird. life is weird. all people are just people. no one is above the other when it comes to fame, money, etc. we all come into this world alone and leave it the same way. the experiences are all just for us, each one. no one that's here is exempt from it.

so tonight i hung out with a new friend, woodsey. what a nice person. he let me watch this foreign nazi zombie movie, ordered tucker's for me, let me have a glass of red wine, and we just chilled and hung out for about 4 hours.

interesting guy, he and his roomie christian are very into film making, and christian has been in a few movies as well. he's apparently locally known too. personally i prefer woodsey, content to be behind the camera and in on the making and creation of the movie (although he will be in projects if needed). they write a lot of stuff, turn it into films, it's pretty cool. somehow i feel like woodsey didn't like me.. but i hope he did because he was nice as all get out and i would much like to be his friend.

when i left, i felt like he may not invite me to hang out again, and i would like to. i'm decidedly single right now but it would be nice to have a new friend. maybe i was a let down; he's been trying to meet me for over a month.

in any capacity, life is what is and you cannot elude death or taxes. time for me to go to sleep.

This Shit Writes Itself! BAM!

From Headline Shirts.

O! how much more doth beauty beauteous seem
By that sweet ornament which truth doth give.
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem
For that sweet odour, which doth in it live.
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye...

Hang on, cut the music for a second.

Hi, reader, it's Will Shakespeare here. You know, I don't mean to come off as cocky, but this shit basically writes itself. I honestly don't know what the big deal is.

Do you know that I invented almost 2,000 words on my own? So I'm literally just making up words as I go. You know who else made up words on the fly? Snoop Dogg. You think history will remember him as a literary genius? Yup, I make up a bunch of schmancy words for linguists to guffaw over, toss in a few "haths" and "doths" for the drama majors, and -- BAM! -- instant classic every time. Seriously, there have been entire college courses taught about stuff I basically wrote on the crapper. Tellin' you, this shit writes itself.

The sun is coming up as I type

i'm not even bothering with captials. it's 6am; fuck it. tonight was insane. totally interesting. let's do it in reverse. i changed into my pjs. i cleaned the kitchen. i took out the trash, made maya's lunch, messed around with the cats, gave them some milk, jogged pretty hardcore to the mailbox and back, signed a card for sweet haden that says on the front "i'm thinking about monkeys..." and when you open it, it makes monkey noises and says, "and now, so are you!" that i had everyone else in the house sign too. i noticed how sad and sick my mother looks.. i don't think she's even been off the couch other than to go to the restroom or to bathe since i have been back.. and that's been more than a month. on the coffee table, there is a vase of pink roses and white carnations that i couldn't help but notice from valentine's day. they are all wilted, almost spent. it seemed like yesterday that they were so pretty and fresh. it seems the flowers are much like my mother. i worry about her so much, i don't know if she realizes how much.. but goddamn i love her. i'm worried she won't be in the world on this plane of existence too much longer, and i don't want my mother to stop tangibly existing in my life.. but f**k me sideways, she's only a shadow of the woman i once knew. i miss her. i miss my mom. i want to go back to the start, before she got sick, and prevent it. (i wish i could do the same for miss maya and her diabetes. no luck). if some deity or whatever came down from the heavens and told me that i could sacrifice my time on this planet and my life in exchange for the health and well being of my daughter and my mother, plus a long and happy life for them, as well as haden, i would gladly give myself up to the universe, no questions asked. most days i don't really feel like existing anyway. i feel like as much as there is to see in this world, there's probably much more on the other cide that i do not remotely comprehend.. but i know my existence will continue... especially if i give up this life for martyrdom. alas, i know that's not really a feasible option. however life, if you give me the choice, i won't even question. i'm yours to relieve. just please, heal the people that i love, and make their lives spectacular. i've only been through 29 yrs and a little over a month, but i've done a lot. most of my life has been about the absence of money and i wouldn't have it any other fucking way. fuck currency. fuck possessions. none of it matters when you turn into worm food. ok... maybe i don't even feel like doing this backwards anymore. maybe i feel like rambling on however i want to. i'm trying to go back to the beginning.. let's face it, i'm fucking tired and cranky. i was supposed to be going somewhere right now. i was supposed to be with my bff on my way out of town. it isn't happening thought, through no fault of anyone. i'm a bit bummed, but it's ok. i wanted to ramble on, but i can clearly see the world outside at this point. reminder to self: talk about closing conversation w isaac and evan. talk about creepy guy from the buccaneer. slow club, wakarusa, lucero, ben and his tom waits voice, derby girls, drunk pbr lasy, trivia night, paninis, sasquatch, traci, paul, erin, nola, monster, adipex, aderol, paleo veggie diet, my allergies to ecercise,miranda cosgrove, the postal service, james, ben, doyle, shuffleboard, andy, dick fuckin chaney, recycling at work and home, cats, laundry, and whatever else i can recall. until then, i must pass out. what a long day. let's hope evan wants me to work for him tomorrow. i love shameless and modest mouse also and want to say some things about that, and "my ex and his wife, and spring break, and sasquatch vs gathering. also maybe mazzy starr. K. must paSS OUR. out. sleepy as fuck i don't want a tv on.musib is better. oj, snf msys's texy wew nor in regard to reporting to different cultures of kife. for now,DONE.

I Love Amanda Palmer

Amanda Palmer is a genius, super-creative, and as magical onstage as she appears in all of the videos and interviews I've seen. She's so devoted to what she does, and to her fans, and all of that is so beautiful.

I got to see The Dresden Dolls at Buster's Billiards & Backroom in Lexington on Sun 11/14/2010. It was their 10 yr banndiversary & the were terrific. It was one of the best shows I've ever seen, and the first one they ever played in Kentucky.

Brian Viglione seems terribly interesting all on his own, but AFP (Amanda Fucking Palmer) as her own entity is turning into something so special. Here she is singing a Radiohead Cover with her magical ukulele. Enjoy.

If you ever turn around...

...you'll see me.

The Weepies are so beautiful. I love this song (I love a lot of songs). In the spirit of the lyrics, I'm so sorry to anyone I hurt through this life... & I want to congratulate my ex and his wife on their pregnancy.

Ugh. I'm so sad right now it's unbelievable. I had a really shit-tastic weekend. Wish I'd been on the schedule at work. Look, though! I made it through!!

The Reason I'm Trying to Ween Off the Fbook Crap...

Other than the fact that it's the fucking devil, it's also apparently akin to smoking crack. Why are people so obsessed with the bullshit, virtual, social networking shenanigans? It's full of lies and hearsay. It's causing divorces, ruining relationships, creating relationships (good luck with that if you try it, I'll bet against it every time). So much shit gets stirred up on a regular basis -usually over nothing- that I cannot fathom its usefulness anymore. I was an original myspace convert, but facebook took it to a new level of fun when it came to being friends with people and keeping up with relatives. As my friends list expanded and I became 'friends' with friends of friends, etc., drama inevitably ensued, and it sucked ass. Of course, I am an addict (like most other people, apparently), and I haven't kicked the habit yet. But I will. Soon. And I will not mourn the loss. Bwa-hahaha!!!!!!!

When the Kite String Pops...

I didn't really know him as a child of 17, he (a year my junior) didn't know me... but he wanted to. He would sit for hours in the store I worked with in the mall and wait for me to notice how much he cared for me.

The day we met, I was wearing an awesome skirt. I didn't even remember I'd owned it until he reminded me of it, 11 years later. It was a black skirt, with butterflies all over it. The pictures looked like real species, different ones, but very realistic. My hair was elbow-length, curly. I wore a size 0 (because I did a LOT of drugs, went to about 3 raves a week, danced my ass off, and didn't really have money or desire for food). I was in my years of rebellion; I was never at home. I had just dropped out of Catholic high school. I smoked pot in the back room at work & snorted blow off of the mirrors we sold to little girls so they could practice the art of vanity. I was so pretty then, and I kind of knew it, although I've always been self-deprecating. Hippie chick maybe, but with a pretty fucking malicious capacity. He didn't know how noxious I could be. I guessed I assumed he would. I suppose he would know that everyone could be, and sometimes was.

He was one of those goth kids who would roam through the mall killing time with strictly black clothing on, usually adorned with leather and spikes, black nail polish and lipstick to match. There was another girl in that suburban mall expanse who worked at the other end who I used to call "Evil Nicole" or "Goth Nicole" that was absolutely infatuated with him, and he was obsessed with me. I found her jealousy humorous. I wasn't much of an active hater, I'm still not terribly great at being actively vindictive or acrimonious; any vendetta I may have, I try to keep in my head. If it's too much to bear, and I hate myself enough for feeling so mean, I will take it out on myself in some way... because I may strike out with some reaction to emotional pain on occasion, especially if I'm really hurting.. but anyway.. this is kind of a tangent. He ended up marrying that chick. Twice. And then she became a lesbian and moved to California. (The thing that's ironic as hell to me now is that I think she was probably a lot like me, with a different clothing and living style.)

He told me when he found me on the social network a decade after the days of mall life that I'd reminded him of a Led Zeppelin song. He never told me which one; now I highly doubt I will ever know.

The longer he hung around, the more I liked him. There was something special about him, and endearing. Even though he didn't wear patchwork clothing, listen to the same music, have any sort of carefree nature, look like a dirty hippie in any capacity, and wore makeup (when I never did), I grew to genuinely be interested in him. He would come repel jump off of the columns outside of the mall when I would go on smoke breaks, listen to me talk about parties and drugs attentively (even though he was straight edge by nature), and when we would close the store, he would vacuum for me like it was the coolest way he could be spending his time. He was considerate, polite, and nice.

One day I had all these butterflies in my tummy, because I had to kiss this guy. At that point in my life, I'd only kissed three boys prior to him. I was super nervous. He helped me take out the trash that day. We walked through the back corridors of the mall and out to the garbage compactors, threw in the garbage, and talked for a couple of minutes before I had to return to work. I knew that may be the only time I'd be alone with him for a long while, so I told him I needed to tell him something, and I kissed him. It was so corny. I mean, we were out beside dumpsters at a mall. My kiss didn't involve a bunch of tongue. It was one of those sweet, time-freezing moments. I will never forget the look on his face after I did it. It's almost indescribable.

Ugh. I was so into boys then. I had this one guy who loved me, and I'd fallen for a co-worker at another store I'd worked in, across the hall in the mall (that was a silly rhyme). Shortly thereafter the boy with his head in the clouds, who years later I thought I would spend my life with, entered into my life. So much commotion in my life. The three latter guys were into the same social stuff that I was, or more on a compatible level, and it was a lot to handle.. I was a stupid, drug using teenage hippie raver who spent more time doing drugs and thinking of my own interests than thinking about other people's feelings. If I could go back in time and lecture myself at any given point, this would have been one of the times in my life, because it led to a different life than I could have had. As a teenager, I didn't comprehend how permanent choices could be, or that I was going to make life-altering decisions then, because I was entering real life... I didn't get it. I thought it was all about me: having fun, feeling good, being young and pretty. In any capacity, my goth friend fell to the wayside as time moved forth and I quit working completely so that I could spend all of my time doing what I loved best- partying and doing drugs, escaping reality.

When Christmas came that year, he came to the place I was staying in and brought me a black hippie shirt with a butterfly embroidered on it. My off/on/off/on boyfriend answered the door when he came by. He explained to me years later how embarrassed and nervous he'd been, and how foolish he'd felt about the whole thing. I apologized on behalf of my teenage self, but it still hurts me to know I hurt him then.

Once before, in the decade we were totally apart, we'd run into each other in life (circa 2004) and hooked up; he was going through a divorce, or was divorced, and I was going away.. moving out of state I believe... I was so shy I wouldn't take off my shirt. I was too nervous to enjoy it like I wanted to.

Before I decided to move home, after he'd found me, I was living alone in an apt in another state. I had a casual f**k puppet (self-proclaimed), and I had just met a guy I thought I could be crazy about, but obviously wasn't, because I destroyed that too.

I was so ecstatic he'd re-entered my life; the memories of him and thought of him appearing back in my life felt magical. I couldn't really believe it. He was divorced from the anti-me and he was so sweet. He even sent me $250 as a gift because he knew how hard my life had become and that I was probably going to be moving back to TN. He read some of his writing to me. He told me about his life and who he'd become. And I ate it up. I thought of him all the time... literally. I would even dream of him on occasion. You would think at this point in my life, I would have given up on the idea of love and its components.

But! ...just like I always do, because of some terrible underlying psychological curse or anomaly, I wigged out on him over something so dumb... stupid knuckle tattoos he was getting. I mean, wtf was I even thinking? They're his knuckles. I wasn't intending on sounding totally insane. I don't even know why I was upset. Other things had gone on that night, leaving me alone in my apartment, and miserable in Kentucky. I don't know if I was on some weird control trip, or if I wanted to push him away because I was growing emotionally close to him, or if I was upset about something else and trying to take it out on him, or what the hell. I don't even remember what I said precisely, it was a bunch of crazy person text messages.

I apologized profusely. I was so remorseful for trying to control the person he'd grown up to be, and for trying to mess with him as himself at all. A couple of days later, he decided to commit to a relationship with someone else, who he'd been seeing all along. He told me that when he started to talk to me in a serious manner that he'd kicked her to the curb, but I know it wasn't true. In Memphis, everyone is connected by that 6 degrees of Separation theory. I saw red. I sent her a message that was a copy and paste of a chat we'd had... a very explicit chat... to the girl he had chosen over me.

He said he was surprised, but he kind of expected it, he just really didn't think I would *do* it. Fuck that. Yeah, I did it. I felt betrayed. I felt like he was a liar, and self-absorbed, for keeping someone else on the side and not telling me. He knew about the men I had on the side and the relationships I shared with them, or lack thereof. I felt like before she committed to a relationship with this dude, she should at least be informed of my existence, of what I had supposedly meant to this man. They ended up remaining 'friends', but I know he's going to end up with her, even though he says he won't.

I came home in 2010 for the Xmas holiday, and he let me come over, even though he'd still been angry. I don't know why. I'm sure he was curious as to how I had turned out, and maybe he knew what he was going to do, and how he was going to hurt me. We ended up gettin it on, and it was so impersonal and terrible. I felt gross and used and I hadn't expected it to be like that. It was like I was one of the random chicks he bangs (since his divorce, he's become a total man-whore. It's like he's fucking for revenge or something). He said he had fun, he just wasn't expecting me to be so 'thick'. I have gained a lot of weight.. I doubt I will ever be in a size '0' again without some surgical intervention, and even when I was the teeny tiny teenager, I was self-conscious about my looks. I left feeling like a piece of trash.

Finally, we were together once more the night before my birthday, after I'd moved home, and I couldn't stand it because of what he'd said and how much I'd hurt him. Three times we've been together in an intimate fashion and not one of those times was I able to reach satisfaction. He's quite intimidating; he's been with beautiful women, and a *lot* of them at this point in life, and I've never felt I could be special enough for him or matter enough to be worth the intimacy efforts.

This brings us to the last time I saw him, on Valentine's Day this year. He told me I had to stop with the kicked puppy dog face and that I had to make my life better for myself (yes, I am an emotional basketcase).

I called him later, and laid it out, asking him if he wanted me in his life or not. I don't know why I was shocked when he said that I should leave him alone. I kind of went into crazy mode again and refused to leave. He told me that he had promised the other girl he would never speak to me again, and that he felt uncomfortable about having me in his life. He told me that the bottom line was he knew it would get back to her that we were talking, and his potential relationship with her had been ruined (by me), but his friendship with her was more important to him than I was. I told him that if he was kicking me out of his life, then he needed to swear he would never look for me, find me, or contact me again. It was extra painful when he said that that was ok with him. Everything he said was the opposite of what I'd been hoping he would say.

Have I messaged his girlfriend about all the things that happened since I sent her the first bit of information? No. I want to, almost every day, but I don't want to hurt her, even though I don't know her, and I don't want to ruin his chances... because I know that they will end up together. I didn't know he was hiding me away like that. I didn't know I was his shameful little secret. But I will never betray him like I did before, even though I feel like I was kicked while I was down. Would it be protecting her from being hurt worse in the long run if she knew the what had happened while he was laboring for her affection? I don't know the answer to that. I just hope it matters to him that I care for him so much that even though sometimes I hate the thought of him, and I really wish he had just left me in his past, I have kept the secret of me away from the world.

The kicker is the end, when he told me on Valentine's Day this year that he once thought I "hung the moon", and that I've completely destroyed his perception of who I was to him. I felt like dying. Why do I have to do this to everyone I could potentially have something important with, especially him? He meant more to me than he'll ever know.. or maybe he does know, and doesn't care.

Ir doesn't matter, does it? I care. I know he thinks I never could have loved him, but I do.. maybe not in the way he believes, but I do, and I always will, and I wish him all the happiness in the world. I just wish I'd done it differently.

The situation changed me. I cannot even think about having sex, with anyone. It disgusts me to look at myself; I'm repulsive.

I realize that I seem to hurt the people I am interested in, and have decided to remain stoic until I am at a completely different emotional level.

I have new found respect for the guy who wouldn't allow himself to be too close to me in Lexington, whose friendship with benefits I appreciated and enjoyed. He was mature enough to know he wasn't ready for a relationship. That's actually pretty huge. Whoever ends up with that future linguist is a very lucky lady.. and I will tell the story of the stoner linguist, just not tonight. This one has been painful enough; this one was for my first and only stalker.

In case he ever reads this:
~I'm so sorry I disappointed you. Believe it or not, I disappointed myself more than you will ever know. I've never been perfect, or hung the moon. I'm sorry you saw the real me and wanted nothing to do with it, but I don't blame you either.
~I do love you, and I have since we were kids. You were really special to me, and you will always have a spot in my heart. I hope someday you will be my friend again, and I will be the beautiful person, inside and out, that you once saw when you looked at me, even though then it was a facade.
~My heart has hurt for you, your blog for your Bella is so sad, I've read all of it. What a cunt. She ruined so much of your heart, that I don't know if there's enough left for another girl, but I hope you find who you're looking for.
~I wish I'd made sweet hippie love to you 12 years ago. I hope that someday I will be able to. I don't like what has transposed physically in the past between us.
~I miss you every day, and you will always be a part of me, and I will only keep the good memories, and I will give you back that $250 gift as soon as I can, without intruding on your life. I don't want to have taken anything like that from you.
~I'm both impressed and a little freaked out by what you grew up to be like. Mostly impressed. You're definitely not a kid anymore. You've done well, and I've never been more free than you... you have kicked life's ass while I have succumbed to it's insanity. I'm proud of you, and I'm glad I got the chance to have you in my life. I totally see my mistakes in perfect, undaunted vision. If it helps you feel better, it kills me and makes me strive to be a better person.

Okay. There it is. Most of it, anyway. If I put down every beautiful detail about him, this would be a never-ending entry. Fuck, this has hurt to type out. I'm going to have to print all these emotion-charged entries for the therapist that I will undoubtedly be seeing soon. Now, I have to get some sleep so I can face tomorrow.

For my first stalker, with much love.

Jackson Avenue

Today I have to go to the Dept of Human Services. I am less than thrilled about this. In fact, I'm sort of terrified. It's not in the best part of town. In any capacity, I'm on my way.

What She Should've Done vs. What She Did

   ...There is nothing like working at a locally owned, small, personal bar, an intriguing little place on what used to be a pretty terrifying spot in this city. You get to see things that I've never seen in places of previous employment. My job is at one of the coolest, weirdest spots in Memphis, and it's theme is so nautical and retro, fucked up and fancy comfortable, I'm not suprised nor alarmed by the oddities I come across.
   It was a Saturday night, Live Music Night! The band was tearing it up, dancin' hippie kids filled some tiny spaces gettin their groove on, the atmosphere was cheerful, laid-back and supremely fun.
   There was this capital D to the -runk woman in there. She was harmless, but she was lacking all candor at this point in her life and was making kind of an ass out of herself. I didn't mind this, but I was a bit put out by her pushiness at insisting that 1) she wanted a glass of wine in a plastic to go cup, but she wasn't really going to take it anywhere, she was just going to drink it in the bar in a to go cup, 2) she honestly didn't believe we don't have to go cups 3) when I told her all we have are cone cups that we use to cover up the liquor bottles at night, she asked for a to go cone of wine.. even though (she swore) she wasn't going to take it anywhere.
   Whatever, lady. You're insane. I know you're trying to leave the bar with alcohol. Guess what? It's so not happening for you here. I am definitely not losing my job over some drunk lady who should realistically already be passed out at home. So she gets all whiny, even though I most certainly didn't put it all out like that, and gets up really close to me, and asks me if I know where to get pot. She didn't put it out precisely like that... but it was quite obvious what the woman wanted. She wasn't being slick. It was blatant. I wasn't taken aback; this has happened several times throughout my life. I suppose, even though I haven't been a stoner since my teenage years (now more than a decade behind me) I still emanate that vibe. It's not terribly flattering. My hemp wearing is quite minimal these days, I've retired my old daily attire of homemade patchwork clothing, I no longer listen to jam bands... yet all the time I get people asking me about weed. It's becoming irritating.. but that's a whole other tangent that I'm starting off in.
   Anyway, I tell this woman that no, I do not know where she can get what she's looking for, and when she objects like I'm trying to be not cool, I straight tell her, "Ma'am, I've only lived here for a month. I've only been working here for a week, if that. I am being honest when I tell you that not only have I no clue whatsoever where you can find this, I also don't use it myself!"
   And then finally we make her leave. She falls down in the middle of the street (of course she did!) and off came her slip-on chunky bottom shoes. I guess this peeved her off because she then hurled one shoe at a distribution warehouse across the street (her other shoe ended up in back in the bar somehow). Her purse was lost as well. I couldn't help but laugh. This is the kind of real life shenanigan that is worth recording.
   The moral of the story is: don't get stoned and try to hold down our drinks; we pour with a heavy hand. If you can't hang, go home and go to bed. Also, wear flat shoes if you're going to be stumbling around in a drunken stupor. Duh.

Eat a Sandwich, Please!

Wednesday night story from customer at bar:
   “So I’m home and it’s late and I’m in bed, but my dog is in the yard going crazy. And I keep waking up over and over, and I’m like, what the HELL is my dog barking at??? Is there a fucking badger in my backyard? Is there someone trying to break in? (I checked repeatedly and saw no people…)
   “So I’m finally like ‘fuck it’ and I decidedly try to sleep through the rest of this madness. And I cover my head up and I sleep and when I wake up, it is morning… finally. And my damn dog is wigging out *again*!
   “So I open my bedroom window, because maybe I can fucking see what he’s barking at incessantly, and what do you fucking know? There is a PERSON in a fetal position on the floor underneath my window on the GROUND in my YARD!!!!”
   (((at this point all of us are like, ‘are you serious? that is INSANE!’ —come on, you know it is!! what the hell??)))
  
   so she continues:

   “So, I don’t know what the fuck to do. I call the cops. I mean, is this guy dead, was he trying to rob me, what? So the cops come and poke at him a bit and wake him up… (pause for effect)
   “And it’s my alcoholic ass neighbor who’s always WASTED drunk! He apparently got lost trying to get home, ended up in my yard, said ‘fuck it’ and just curled up to sleep. I mean, this guy drinks a LOT, but to get into my backyard, he had to go way down the street to the totally wrong house, down my driveway, open my back gate, and come on in. Like, really??
   “I felt really bad. I was like, ‘ohhhhh, nevermind, it’s ok, it’s just my neighbor!’, and I tell the cops I couldn’t tell it was him because he was all curled up in a fetal position and I couldn’t see his face, and the neighbor’s just like ‘huh? i’m in someone’s yard? Oh! hey! Sorry about that!’
   “And I was just like, ‘eat a sandwich, PLEASE.”

Definitely the best story I heard that day. I gotta keep up with more of this shit. I mean, that is fanTASTIC. Epic drunk guy story.
FYI, in case you decide to pass out in my yard, I would come outside, check out wtf was going on, and then I would grab my garden hose (or some really cold water from inside if my hose was closed down for the winter), and spray you off immediately to see if you were alive. Then, depending on whether or not I knew you, I would go from there.You better hope you know my ass if you’re passed out in my fenced in backyard. I’m very nice, extremely forgiving, but come on man. Really?

The Last Love Letter

to make it short, "THE EX" has been messin with my head/heart lately, and i won't do it again. it will kill me if i have to keep being involved in his world of insanity. he's verbally & mentally abusive, and i love him. so. i wrote this.. if i ever go looney tunes again please hit me over the head and make me read and re-read what i have written here until i concede that being with someone like him is detrimental to my life. below is my  letter, unedited. sorry if some of
it seems harsh.. none of you really know what this relationship was
like. ugh. it's so fucking hard to think about letting him go. it's going to be harder to do it.

   all my love,
                 alice

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



dear "the ex",

i have thought very long & hard about the last conversation we had.

you & i did share a love that was for another time. that doesn't mean that i don't still love you more than i ever have or probably ever will love anyone. it doesn't mean that every stolen kiss you have given me was not adored. i do love you; i always will.

i will never be able to appreciate or like the women in your life. you only show me with them how hollow your love can be, because when i am around, there is a sense of abandonment, on both our parts, and we have a tendency to forget our anger from the past.. wanting to cling to one another (or kill one another) is one of our biggest problems.

after what happened christmas 2009, i went back to lex & i swore that i would not waste another second of my life worrying about you, or caring, or wishing for things to be different. i lied. and in truth, i will probably waste several seconds, if not minutes, hours... of my future time missing you and loving you and wishing it could be different.

but, it's not ever going to be different. anything you and i may have will always be a mess, whether it be a platonic friendship, or a full-fledged relationship. i really, truly, from the bottom of my heart know that thinking of you, missing you, loving you, etc will only hurt me.

it is insulting you would even think that after all of these years you would be given joint custody. there's no way. i would have let you see her, with me, if you and i could get along, maybe with some legal therapy, definitely put your name on her birth certif., but under no circumstances would i remotely let you have joint custody of mour child. she barely knows you. at best, you would be allowed to see her every other weekend along with the other kids, more if you and i were on good terms and getting along. but you must be joking if you think i would just let you randomly come into her life and be with her half of the time.

the only thing she really remembers about us as an interacting couple was when we lived in fl. that was primely horrid.

she and i are not staying in this town for very long. once we go, we will go together. i don't know if we're going to head back to fl, or try again in ky, or something completely different.. but we will not be available for your life. at this point, there is nothing you could do to change my mind.

i'm sorry for so many things, including the decision you made to sign your
rights over. i'm sorry you only consider me your child's mother.. i'm sorry you're such a dick to me even when i am crying, telling you how much i care. i'm so sorry for the fights that were my fault.

take care of yourself. or not. it isn't my problem. i feel sorry for anyone you're with. i guess i had such low self-worth that i wanted it to be me. it's never going to be me again.

-me