What a mellow weekend.
I started it at my weight management meeting. Because I am menstrual, I was in a crappy mood and hungry. I came in bitching sort of in a humorous way.
"I am ready to chew through something...I don't care what. It doesn't even have to be food. It can be a wall for all I care at the moment."
The coach just kept sighing every time I opened my mouth like she was afraid I would deter the others. In fact, there was a new girl who was just starting. Once I found that out, I was like, "Oh, this diet is fabulous" and she looked at me and said, "Coming from you...yeah right"
Then I had a nightmare that I ate a whole box of cookies and had a ton of tortilla chips covered in cheese. When I woke up, I was thrilled to know I still hadn't cheated. This is a first in my life. I think I may have some discipline after all. Who knew? I didn't.
I watched a lot of dvd's that I needed to catch up on. Without tryin to sound like I am 14...I am sooo in love with Jason Bateman from Arrested Development!!! If I had a Trapper Keeper, I would write Mermaid + Jason. Sigh.
I think that show is brilliant. I have watched it before, but being able to watch it from the beginning...well, that just was a treat.
Fantasized about how it will be when I no longer think of ghost.
Woke up one morning and realized that I hadn't thought of him for awhile.
But then in thinking that...realized I did.
Took a couple of naps.
Went to my friend's game night.
It was game night with me being the only straight girl surrounded by 6 lovely gay men.
We played Cranium and my team won. We were really sore winners too. We just kept rubbing it in their faces. Drinks were a-flowing. I was the only one not drinking or eating. Which was sad for me, but I made it through.
Then, without me really blinking, they all started to take their shirts off.
When I know someone is gay, I just don't see them in a way that I would be interested in. And that is weird because I love men's bodies. And their bodies were nice, but my mind just couldn't go there.
Then some of them started dancing with me and trying to take my shirt off.
They succeeded in getting one of my layered tops off. I still had on my tank tops. When they weren't looking, I put the top back on.
Best line of the night: One of the hosts, "Ugh, straight men...I hate it when they won't suck your cock."
Me: "How rude of them."
Next best line: One of my teammates, "If I were straight, I would be a boob man"
One of the other guys, "I am not straight, and I AM a boob man"
And then they proceeded to feel mine.
It made me laugh. It felt so funny to have all these hands on my boobs and have all the boyz being sexy like, and me just laughing.
They were all really nice and funny. It was a good time.
But I realized, I was like the Sesame Street song, "One of these things is not like the others" and so I hit the road.
Yesterday in the evening, I continued on Paper Project. It is looking like the light at the end of the tunnel.
Fell asleep early on my magnificent new sheets (courtesy of Mads) and slept like a baby.
This week has started and no one told me. I better go catch up with it.
It was a 3rd morning this week of waking up and thinking it is Sat.
I don't think that is a good sign.
I am tired. Dog tired. Yeah, I said it. DOG TIRED. Thing is my dogs (real dogs - not my feet) never seem to get tired. They are hyperactive ball chasers so I have no idea where that phrase comes from.)
Hm. Sigh. Hmm.
Last night, I had a couple of things that I needed to do. Some got canceled in place of other things which ended up not happening or getting canceled due to other things.
In the end, Mads, Jazzy and I went to Gotham Hall in Santa Monica, for a combined birthday party. Before we got there, we all decided that the best part of the night would be going to a party where there would be new faces. No one who knew us. Starting fresh.
There were several birthday boys, but we only knew one. All of 'em industry types. Very motivated folks I must say. They are the kind of people I hear about, even meet in passing but don't really know. They go for the prize and stay the course with their careers. Most of my friends are dreamers and artists and they get to their goal eventually...sort of. No opinion on either path, just noticing the difference. It was interesting to hang with a new vibe of peeps.
It was a lot of fun. The music was a mix between rap, hip hop and old 80's music. Mads danced with one of the birthday boys.
Out on the dance floor, she and he tore it up.
Well, sort of. They looked like they were having a lot of fun either way.
Mads mentioned not minutes before she went out there that she doesn't like it when people grind with her on the dance floor. Now, on the dance floor, they weren't really grinding but they were doing some fancy lambada-esque moves. Jazzy said, "How Mads would finish that sentence is 'I don't like it when people grind with me on the dance floor...except when I am drunk'".
Ha ha ha. We were the witty ones last night. Bon mots were a flying along with the dance moves. Mads came back from her dance fever stint and commented on her partner, "I think at one point he was riverdancing". He definitely had a clapping thing going on.
I talked mostly with Justin (hey J - how is the new dance move? The magic act?) while he shot the pool with Jazzy who was sending fear into the hearts of every man who took her on. Quite the pool shark that one. Who knew? I didn't.
Spank my ass and call me Nancy...color this girl impressed.
There was another who was impressed with her. A total character. He was wearing a sweater with Burberry elbow patches and he was convinced that he would woo the fair Jazzy. The bet was that if he beat her at pool, he would take her out. It was close, but she beat him in the end. Ending the bet unfavorably for him.
We left, hoofed it to the car, got something to eat and headed back to Mads's.
And in coming to terms yesterday with the fact that I am a social butterfly, I was very happy to begin that all again.
Let the good times roll.
Because of my limited diet at the moment, I would rather cook at home than go out to eat.
Good thing is that I am saving money.
Bad thing is that with the extra time I am saving in not socializing, I am continuing to work on Project Paper.
I am catching up on insipid tv shows, while I sort.
I called Mads last night whom I haven't seen, sheesh, like since SUNDAY!
She is in a similar place. We vowed that we cannot live like this for long.
For many, staying home nights is a normal way to live. But not for us.
We are always out and about. And we like it that way.
I don't mind taking a bow out from time to time.
But this has lasted longer than my butterfly wings can take.
If I am not being creative at home, then I love to be around people.
And if I am not around people, I need to be writing or performing.
But to come home and just do a routine of things that I don't love...well...me no likey.
Granted, I am getting lots of sleep, saving money, working out and eating right, but I am not having any fun.
And that is okay for a little bit.
But I am going stir crazy in this disciplined manner.
The rigmorale is getting annoying.
It is not like any of the things I have to do are easy.
They require a lot of fore-thought.
Which makes it all the more ugh-y. Ugh!
After my work out last night, I decided I would take a break from sorting the paper. That helped my mind a little. I was intending to veg out.
But at 10pm, I couldn't handle the mess and Nukkah was playing slip and slide with my piles, messing up any semblance at organization I had.
I started to look through more files.
A couple of things occurred to me.
One is that I have had a ton of support.
People whose names I can't even remember wanted me to do well and sent me a lot of good wishes in cards and emails and poems and phone calls when I moved to LA back in '99.
I also realize that I have grown out of many articles that I saved when I didn't know as much.
I now know a lot more than I was giving myself credit for.
At 1am, I headed to bed. I couldn't sleep until around 2:30am, however. Ended up watching Carson Daly who had Greenday on. Carson is a horrible interviewer. He kept interrupting Kyra Sedgewick. Or maybe she was a rambler and he really only asked her questions to be polite. Either way - irritating to watch.
Also caught Dave Navarro on the later Conan. Interpol played. All this did was rev me up.
I finally did fall asleep.
Woke up thinking it was Sat (again). Is that a sign of depression? Restlessness? Alzheimers?
Today many offices at my work are moving around so there is a lot of swirling energy of couches and filing cabinets surrounding me.
Thankfully, I don't have to move my desk.
Jazzy came to my work for lunch today.
I work in a beautiful place. And the food is amazing.
She had never been and I would love to have her work here so I wanted her to get a feel for it.
She commented on how many boyz there are. Yes, there are, but as Mads can attest, they are ALL wimpsters which means they are only eye candy, which can be irritating after awhile. They all look at you and never do anything. Yuck. Wimpsters. A whole town full of 'em.
Tonight we are going to a birthday party. The whole lot of us. Yea! I feel like I have been on a sabbatical from social stuff and I am ready to jump right back in. In actuality, it hasn't been that long.
Either way, I am going to shine shine shine. Screw Rigmorale for the day. Screw it!
If you see the sun peeking out, it just might be my smile beaming on you so happy that I am shaking up my week.
When I was 10, my teacher made us write what we thought we would have accomplished in 10 years.
When I was 20, I found it in my pile of school papers and you know what?
I had accomplished all of it.
I told my high school friend Michelle about it. She was always the instigator and so thought it would be neat if we would do the same thing.
So in 1991, we were both 22 and we wrote out what we thought we would accomplish in 10 years. We each handed ours to the other. That way, we would HAVE to contact each other with the other's info.
We sort of lost touch. Then found it. Then lost it. Then, I got a call from her saying that she found the paper and read one of mine over the message: "I (mermaid) would have been engaged twice but never married"
That was funny. I had never been married. But if you count the time that my boyfriend who I was about to break up with when his dad died on New Year's Day, in a drunk stupor in front of his buddy, on the day of the funeral asked me to marry him, I had never been engaged, just asked that once.
So I was curious to hear what other nonsense I had been wrong about.
Thing is that when you are 10, the world holds a lot of possibilities and you don't think of what WON'T work. You just decide what you want.
It was easier.
When I was 22, I found that there were many variables at play: I would do this but only if this happened. And I will have accomplished this but only if this other thing never happened.
Michelle would call several more times with another line of a goal that never happened. Each time, she would end the call with, "If you want to hear the rest, you must call me back"
She was in NY at the time.
Then 9/11 happened. I did find out she was fine.
Then I lost touch with her again.
Mostly, I was also feeling that I only wanted to call her back when I found hers. But I couldn't find hers.
And for someone who is as organized as I am, it was infuriating.
Then, this weekend, when I was looking through PAPER PROJECT OF A CRAZY PAPER COLLECTOR 2005, I found it!
I called her mom this morning (thank god for parents who never move since you were in high school). She is going to call me back with Michelle's email.
Michelle HAD accomplished every goal of hers.
I am still awaiting her mom's call.
I can't wait to let Michelle know how ON the money she was with herself.
And it gave me a renewed view of going after what you want.
So today, at 35 (almost 36), I am going to write out a new one.
In 10 years, I want to read that I truly accomplished every single goal for myself.
When you find the piece of paper 14 years later, it is amazing how fast time goes.
It feels like only yesterday when we sat at Pioneer Square that rainy November day in the middle of Portland and decided our fate.
And when I do it today, it is going to be similar to Michelle's and similar to when I was 10 in the sense it will be simple.
No variables this time.
No looking back at the could've, would've, should've-s.
I will write exactly what I want. Exactly.
Just the feeling of satifaction of all that I truly lived.
There is a very cool book about Feng Shui that is called, "Move Your Stuff, Change Your Life".
It helped me a couple of years ago get some energy moving in my place.
But I didn't feel that my life REALLY changed.
But it is starting to.
And in keeping lots from that book in mind, as well as ushering in a new matured Mermaid, I have been working on my getting my apartment in shape and organized.
I have 13 years worth of paperwork that I have been going through.
I have countless bags of shredding.
I have a large pile of things I am keeping in the middle of the room and my place looks like shit.
It looks like I am moving.
But au contraire...I am planning to stay for awhile so I am making it the apartment I always wanted.
With help from Mads and Zapato.
Mads gave me my Christmas present yesterday...a beautiful bed spread and gorgeous, soft sheets. I love it! I feel so ladyglam!
It is all part of boudoir 2005 rather than the french cottage look I have sported for 7 years.
I also kept (and still do) a day planner every year so that I can look through it at a later date to see what I went through in my life.
In looking through my life and seeing all the people and schedules and moments that I deemed so important, I really can't remember most of them.
That's bad, huh?
Oh well.
Moving on...
I went through all my old cassettes and decided what to throw away and what to replace with cd's.
Once I did that, I really felt more movement of energy in the room.
It is amazing how your things can hold you down.
I had no idea. I am pretty good about being organized.
It is one of my strengths.
But sometimes, I find that I just push some things away that are monotonous to deal with.
My place is very small and so I am always playing magician and finding ways for my storage to fit things so they are out of sight.
Now with many things going by way of shredder, trash, goodwill, or recycling, I feel like I have so much more room than I had dreamed was possible.
And truly, in looking at where I have come from, I am blessed to be where I am now. I see through my past journals and all the receipts from things I purchased, how I was always seeking something that was a bit outside my grasp. Now it feels much closer than it ever had.
Happiness? Peace? Maturity? Love?
They used to seem so much like friends who visited.
Now they seem like they could actually be moving in with me.
I would like that. And I don't even like roommates, so....
Imagine a night where everything goes right.
Imagine that all the people that you love are there to support you and the others you love who couldn't make it, sent you their support in spirit.
Imagine that you shined in conjunction with the universe by using your potential of talent the way it should be used.
Imagine that you stuck to your diet and even were disciplined in what you drank.
Imagine that you were able to have all your worlds: work, friends, other friends, friends of friends, all come togther and you were able to be calm about who you paid attention to and you were able to parcel it all out better than you could have imagined.
Imagine that you now are addicted to continue on the path of your talent.
Imagine that...and you will be feeling what I felt last night.
I did my comedic storytelling for a full bar at Amalfi's. I was almost vomiting before hand (you know how I get before a show Laura) and then as soon as I got a laugh off the first line, I calmed down. My voice was not like my regular voice. But all the transitions and details and important points I wanted to make all were hit.
Today I can finally breathe and just bask in the feeling that I have finally matured into what I have been doing for the past 11 years.
If I wasn't so tired, I would be dancing.
Hell I will dance anyway.
Somedays, I am truly happy to be exactly where I am.
And today is one of those days.
Ahhhhh
I started my 6 week challenge of no carbs on Monday.
It is like Atkins, South Beach...etc.
Day 1 was fine.
Day 2 I thought I was going to implode from the headaches and the nausea. Someone who is not doing it mentioned that it could be the Santa Ana winds.
Maybe.
Day 3 went so much better
Today is Day 4.
I weighed myself last night.
I was weighed for this challenge a week ago this past Monday.
I have lost 11 pounds!
Can that be right?
I have been exercising like a mother bleeper.
I hate going to the gym so I just don't think about it. I just get my gear ready to go go go.
Dance class kicked my ass this week.
I have always had rhythm. I don't have flexibility.
So when we do really pretty dance moves that involve holding poses, well, it just ain't pretty.
But I did it.
And tonight, is my first performance of 2005. I have so many people coming and that is really cool. I am kind of a little embarrassed that so many people want to support me. I hope I don't suck.
I am just going to have fun with it.
It is like stand up but more comedic monologues or storytelling.
I also need to buy bras.
The last set of bras I bought are good but it is time to buy more.
There is one bra that I bought that had these weird clasps.
I wasn't really paying attention as to why. It fit. It is my work out bra because it holds the ladies in.
One day, I unclasped one of the clasps.
It is a nursing bra.
How embarrassing.
Or useful.
It will now be my lucky date bra...for if things go exceptionally well.
Or is that weird?
No matter.
After the weight keeps coming off (fingers crossed), I will have to buy a whole new size set of bras.
My house is in disarray because I am trying to go through all my old paperwork that I have kept for the past 10 years. Most of it is being shredded.
But since there is so much, I almost broke my little shredder. I am bringing it into work now to shred little by little.
My place looks like it has been ransacked.
When I am done with my 6 week challenge, I will have a whole new set of tools, resources, lots more confidence, and undeniable drive.
Food, relationships, self beliefs, paperwork, home, work...all these will have a different priority than they have had.
Soon, I will be feeling the effects of streamlined living in all senses.
I am Roller Coaster GIRL!
I am a sort of a lame super hero.
I never actually proactively chose it.
I just sort of noticed that the costume fit.
After awhile, it all took shape on me and I didn't bother getting it off before it all became so comfortable.
I wear a cape sort of but it needs laundering.
I would clean my roller coaster girl hide out but it would overwhelm me, so
I just do it piecemeal and hope that no one minds dust.
I also burn candles which makes my cat sneeze. She now takes antihistamines
I relish being a superhero when things are good, but lately things have been so
well, roller coaster-y that I am losing some balance.
I am used to it seeing as how it is my moniker and I have been here MANY MANY MANY MANY MANY times.
When things are good, I feel on top of the world.
And when things are bad...well, you get the idea.
I don't really do much as a super hero, except create a lot of drama for myself.
I make people laugh, that is true.
I can't cook but I can make a mouth watering pumpkin bread.
I am hardly ever grounded in reality when it is important to be practical and
I am hardly ever dreamily optimisitc, when practicality needs the boot.
I am a singer and a performer and a linguistic loving freak.
I love animals but they don't always love me.
I love kids and they usually love me.
I don't love babies, unless they are related to me.
I try to fly but find that my cape (said cape in need of laundering) usually gets stuck on something and I shout out expletives
I try and help people with my empathetic nature and
I do help them
But then I get exhausted and become the self absorbed pisces that makes roller coaster girl sort of a diva.
I get nervous like sick nervous before I do anything that I actually enjoy like performing.
I don't get like that in karaoke anymore.
I still get like that when I am on a stage with a mic and talking.
I usually do my best work thereafter
Roller coaster girl listened to her mini Ipod yesterday and actually sat her butt down and wrote.
Yes wrote.
Just like she promised the Hall of Justice and just like she promised the Creative Gods.
Roller Coaster Girl is hitting her stride.
She begins her 6 week change in eating tonight.
She must look reality in the eye.
The problem at hand will never be solved without strength.
And when roller coaster girl gets that strength, through her friends, family and her inner belief in herself...she might be ready to ...
Give
Up
The
Roller
Coaster....
Some superheros never should have been allowed to reign for sooo long.
On the next installment of RCG...you might find it is the last...
Stay posted.
This morning at 6:58am my phone rang.
I thought it might be my sister calling from Germany.
I hesitated since I was still in bed and dreaming of how I wanted to stay in bed longer.
I got to the phone before the last ring and noticed a blocked call.
That could be my sister, I thought.
But when I checked the message, it was all in spanish.
This is not the first time this has happened to me.
I am a magnet for wrong numbers.
And not just wrong numbers. But wrong numbers from people who are adamant, passionate, angry, opinionated, hurt, horny and dumb.
It is not a vanilla group of people. It is a hot chile group of people.
The day after Valentine's day last year, I got a call at 6am. I didn't answer it but it had awakened me.
It was some guy calling from the east coast to his buddy.
"I told her I loved her, man. I told her. I told her I loved her. I told her I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."
He started sobbing on the message.
"And you know what she did? Do you know what the bitch did? She laughed at me and told me she didn't love me. Can you fucking believe it, she----"
the machine cut him off.
I would have been more sad for him if I hadn't been awakened to hear some guy so distraugt that he couldn't notice that my outgoing message wasn't familiar.
I have a phone number that must be similar to a man who apparently has a family of some sort AND has several girlfriends.
I get the mother of his kids calling, "I know you want my man. And I know you are a white girl. But he will always come back to me you ho."
I get the kids calling, "Papa, papa, donde es..." I don't speak spanish, but I can guess they are looking for him.
I get the girlfriends calling him, "baby, where did you go? I know what you want. Why don't you come over and I will do what we talked about"
Many times it is in spanish thank god. I can't understand their pleas.
I also have a number similar to a realtor. I get people calling about houses all the time. I used to call everyone back and tell them that they had the wrong number. But it was a waste of my time to do it.
I once got a guy who called me out of the blue in the middle of the night that turned phone sexual. But that didn't seem that unusual to me. I guess I used to be a phone ho.
And technically, that wasn't a wrong number. He had my card from somewhere and called me. He didn't know me, but he had my name and my phone number.
In Portland, my outgoing messages were me talking in accents and very comical. I used to get abusive messages from a girl who would call me from time to time.
He had an accent but I couldn't place it. I couldn't tell how old she was either.
"I know I have the wrong number. But your message makes me sick. You are probably old and ugly. Which is why you have to have these stupid messages. I can't stand that I got this message by mistake and had to hear your stupid voice."
That was the first one. It kind of shook me up. I mean, if you have a wrong number, why do I have to suffer?
But that wasn't the only time she called.
"Hi Bitch. I hate your messages so much. You will always be alone. Your ovaries will dry up and no one will want you. Bye Bitch"
For a second, I thought it was my subconscious telling me my worst fears.
Then I star 69'd her ass. In Portland, if you *69, you get the number without it dialing the person. Here in LA, it will dial the number directly. So once I had the number, I kept it for a future time to do I don't know what with it.
I got another message.
"You are a big fat hoochie mama. i hate hoochie mamas. You suck. And your messages never get better. I can't believe I have to dial you by mistake and hear your stupid hoochie mama ass voice saying stupid hoochie mama ass things. You will never be good to anyone.
Bye bitch"
At least she was consistent.
So I took her number to work. I told my co-workers about the sitch. My boss at the time was the coolest woman ever. Her name was Kathy and she loved to get in the eye of the storm. She was on anti-depressants and always remained very calm. I loved that woman.
She called the number I had gotten.
A man answered.
"Hello" he had an accent too that we couldn't place
"Hi, do you have a daughter or a girlfriend that keeps harrassing me on the phone?" she called as me
"No. there is no woman here. I don't have a daughter. Only a son."
"Well, then your son has a girl friend that keeps making harrassing calls to my phone. If it doesn't stop, I am going to call the cops."
"Oh that IS my daughter."
"Sir, you just remembered you have a daughter?"
"Who is this? You are harrassing me now. I am going to call the cops on you now. Is that what you want? Huh? Huh?"
"Sir, now I see why your daughter is a nutcase. Just have her stop calling me. And we can let this go?"
"Let's meet and talk about this. I don't want to discuss this on the phone. My daughter is only 12. We can talk this out"
"I am not meeting you anywhere. just have her stop calling. Thank you"
And Kathy hung up.
And he called our work line over the next several days saying he was going to turn the entire company in for calling him and causing mental stress.
Kathy just laughed it off.
And I learned not to take it so seriously.
But people are sooo weird. Especially wrong number people because they are not listening to the fact they have the wrong number, they pour their hearts, loins, and emotions out for the receiever to hear and they won't know why their calls were never returned. Which probably fuels their craziness and distrust in mankind.
In this new year, I am trying to bring new energy to my life. I am putting out better energy and absorbing good vibrations from good and non toxic people.
Maybe just maybe, this year, the new wrong numbers will be a joy to get rather than the mish mash of people who have been abandoned on the telephone superhighway.
I have always had a strong resistence to getting sick.
But lately, I seem to be one ill puppy.
It is so pathetic.
I was sick last week when work was slamming me against the wall. But I came in to work anyway and denially worked as if my feeling sick would quickly pass.
So perhaps it was a delayed reaction when Mads, Zapato and I were at Ikea and I started to feel nauseated. I didn't even feel up to joining them all at Jones, which just shows how bad I was feeling.
After they dropped me off back at home, I went to TJ's and then home to finish watching my dvds (I should have been writing - I shouldn't "should" on myself, but really, did I need to watch Spiderman 2 until the wee hours?)
Couldn't sleep because the gods of inspiration who have seriously been getting pissed that I ignore all their ideas, decided it was time for some payback.
Lying in bed.
Not comfortable.
Not sleepy, but achey. Or achy. However the funky poo you spell it.
Had a million ideas how to start my story for the storytelling night.
Still couldn't sleep.
Turned on the light.
Wrote for 10 minutes.
Felt better. Looked at the ceiling and said, "there, gods, you happy? Lemme sleep"
But no. That just taunted them.
Then, the story I had just written down, was no longer in consideration.
A new, more improved story, more to the point of what I wanted to say was emerging in my noggin.
I finally had to get up and talk into my tape recorder.
It lasted a half an hour.
I went to my bed.
Now I was all jazzed about my new story that I still couldn't sleep.
Wished there was someone I could call at 3am.
Somehow, fell asleep.
That was Sunday night.
Monday, I was still feeling the rush of being creative.
Went to the gym and they all made a big deal about how I was beaming.
They asked what his name was.
I told them it wasn't a boy.
They didn't believe me. So I just let them believe what they wanted as I smiled coyly.
Then yesterday, I realized all that jittery energy had gotten the best of me coupled with last week's sick feelings.
And it got me.
I slept ALL day. I mean ALL DAY!
I never do that. Not even the few times I have had a hangover have I done that.
It felt good.
Met Jazzy for dinner and a little K-Town Karaoke.
Totally exhausted me.
But I feel fine today.
And it was sunny.
And now I have my story.
And Mads just saw Robbie Williams at Tower Records
And Jazzy saw Luke Perry in his car.
And both men checked out both women.
I love LA for that reason.
And tonight I am meeting Christy to catch up on thangs and also pitch my story to her.
So Gods, if you are listening...
I promise I will be more disciplined.
I have already stopped watching a lot of insipid tv shows
I am at my computer more and specifically in Word and not using it for to flirt with all the boys on myspace so much.
I am learning when to take your ideas and foster them.
So please, please, help me help you help me not be so sick this year.
I want to be sensitive enough to be creative...not so sensitive that I am always writing how I am/was/am going to be sick.
Deal?
Deal.
Has it only been one week?
One week into the new year?
Sheesh. I feel spent.
But I feel pretty empowered.
I have worked out every day. I don't want to really put it out there like that because I don't want to sabotage myself. But I am on a course that I would like to keep. So shhhh. Don't tell my subconscious or she will go make me lazy again.
I will be performing some comedic storytelling very soon. This makes me happy. I will be in very good company. In fact, I am very honored to be considered part of the same ilk that will be performing.
Harry...hand puppet guy...as many of you may know him...well, he called today.
I didn't take the call.
To fill many of you in...
Harry moved to NY last December. I helped him make the decision since he was so miserable in LA. We had a very quick and turbulent dating stride before he moved.
We talked on the phone occasionally. There was something about him that I really was drawn to. But there was also something so very annoying.
Well, in May, he came to visit. The whole plan was that he would stay with me. Every time we talked on the phone prior to that visit, it was understood what our encounter would entail. It wasn't just a friendship. It wasn't a relationship either. Something in between.
I was very excited to see him.
I met up with him.
He was very friendly with me. But when I questioned him as to why he seemed so distant, he said that he has a girlfriend and he has had one since January.
I was pissed. And hurt.
He said he had always been a cheating kind of guy and now he wanted to be a better man.
I told him that a better man wouldn't have strung along a better woman such as I just so he could keep my attention to massage his ego.
We finished dinner and I dropped him off at where he was staying (he already had planned it wouldn't be with me).
That was it for me. I didn't plan to see him again. Even though he wanted to use my voice for some new project he was creating, I couldn't have any more attachment to him.
He came to LA several times this year. He always called. I always ignored his call.
This past Thanksgiving, I was down in SD. I got a call from a certain number. I had several calls with no message. And since I had deleted him from my phone, I had no idea who it was from.
Then came the usual message..."I am in town, give me a call"
I deleted it.
I woke up Friday morning to several more call attempts and another message:
"I know you are probably mad at me. Things have changed. I really need to see you. I want to make it all up to you. I would like to take you to dinner tonight. I am so sorry that I hurt you like I did."
I paused.
Rondie said,"You are going to call him, right? Find out what he wants?"
"No way", I said, "What could he possibly tell me that would be interesting enough for me to see him?"
Well, curiosity gave way.
I called him.
We talked.
I agreed to meet him for coffee in LA.
The minute I saw him, he was all over me.
"Hey," I stopped him, "What happened to your girlfriend?"
"You know how relationships are. They have their ups and their downs"
"DO YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?"
"NO! I DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, okay? I don't have a girlfriend anymore"
So, not being one to kiss and tell too much, it was wonderful.
We had a blast.
For awhile.
He began to irritate me again after the inital passionate bs was done.
I realized that the fates had been kind to me that we had never been that serious. I was glad I was a different person from a year prior.
In the morning, we were looking at a map of NY that I have on my wall in my bedroom.
"That is where I live" he pointed
"Oh yeah, now that you and girlfriend split up, where do you live?"
He ducked under the covers.
"What? Do you still live together?"
"You are going to hate me. You will never talk to me again."
"What? Are you still together?"
"She is not my girlfriend...she is now my wife"
"Of course she is." I said numbly, "well you tell her I think she caught herself a good one in you. What a prize."
"I told her that I couldn't be monogomous and she said that was fine as long as I didn't tell her about it."
"Fantastic"
"Does this mean you won't talk to me again?"
"I wasn't going to anyway. I got what I needed from you since I realized a long time ago, I would never get anything else."
We went to coffee and then he went to the airport. He called me on the way telling me that I am the angel that helped him move to NY and I am the angel that helped him see that cheating was bad. Whatever that means.
I drove away from him very glad that I had not known about it in advance. I had had a marvelous time. I decided that I was okay with the casual tryst. I was happy that I didn't have him in my life anymore.
I didn't plan on hearing from him again. And that was a good thing.
Today he called and left a vm to wish me a happy new year.
And I did something I never would have done in the past.
I deleted it.
Empowerment is coming in quite handy this year.
I have been all sorts of a fan. I would say fan rather than "groupie" but it depends who you ask.
I have been a radio dj fan - hanging out in the middle of the night with the pilot of the airwaves. In the studio, would be the other girls (I called them groupies) who had the same intention...to be hanging with the man who had the power for the moment...commanding the music and the radio.
I would call them up with a fake persona (sometimes an accent even) and hang out all night listening to them be funny and then play music.
I would go to breakfast with them in the morning and then sleep for a couple of hours before I would head to my day job or my day classes at school.
Next, I became a comedy fan.
I would hang out after the show and pour on the compliments to the comics. Some of them would smile and just mess with me and my friend, knowing we were just giddy girls who idolized them. Some would take us to breakfast. Some did nothing. I loved being in their presence, hoping the comedy would rub off on me or even more...they would see my potential as a comic and do a whole "Star is Born" thing and I would become famous.
Before I was 21 and could get into bars, I became obsessed with a particular Irish band: Hothouse Flowers.
It was an accident.
My sister and I had been in Holland that summer and were watching European MTV. There was a band that we loved called Wet Wet Wet. They were so cute and the video was fun.
That was the summer before I was an exchange student and everything in my life was on the cusp.
The following summer, I had returned back to the US and was hanging out at my dad's watching MTV with my sister and on came the Wet Wet Wet video. We both ran to tape it. In our glee and glow of having seen the video again, we let the tape run. It started to tape the next video. We turned it off. Then, quickly started taping again when we saw how hot the band was. That band was Hothouse Flowers and that song was "Don't Go".
Never before had I been so obsessed with a band. I had loved music since I was little, but this...this was different. My sister and I would play the video non stop to get every frame. We would listen to every word of the song. The album hadn't come out here yet in the states. We got jealous of the women dancing with them in the video.
My friend Carrie would come over and all three of us would just watch them over and over singing the song at the top of our lungs.
When they finally came to Portland, we weren't old enough to get in.
The album had come out and we listened to it over and over.
They played at a little bar that had a little patio next to it where the band could hang out before they played. The patio is also where the band would enter from their bus. We were stoked. We stood out there in the freezing November weather. My mom decided to go the show too and went inside and had a beer. We were so pissed. Damn her for being over 21.
My sister saw the sax player and yelled his name.
"Leo!"
He turned. He started talking to us.
We couldn't contain ourselves.
We told him all about how we love them and knew all their songs. That we knew the entire video (it is amazing that we thought that would be a turn on - thinking 'bout it now)
Leo grabbed the other guys and they said in their beautiful irish accents,"Why don't you guys come inside?"
"We aren't old enough"
My mom came outside and took a picture of all of us with them - them on one side of the patio gate with their guitars...and us on the other side with our gloves and red noses.
The boys played a private concert for us right there and let us sing with them.
I think I almost passed out from the joy.
There they were...in the flesh playing for only us.
Once inside, they played well. We watched through fogged up windows. We heard them announce they were dedicating our favorite song to us.
"To the girls in the cold who can't come in...this is for you"
I think I may have passed out.
It was one of those nights that happen to you early in life when you don't have much to compare it to. It was beautiful.
We saw them on their next tour and actually got backstage.
They even wrote us some postcards from time to time.
Then we all got older.
And the writing stopped. And we were old enough to get into the bars. And we found other bands to love.
But for some reason, today, I remembered the first time I as a fan, met the object of my affection. And it was wonderful.
I came back from lunch to write this to get away from boy boss and his loud music and his loud whistling. I can almost not stand it. He came in right behind me. I think he takes glee in whistling as loudly as he can, stomping his feet to the beat as loudly as he can and singing as loudly as he can.
People can sense when you are annoyed with them. people can sense when they are being ignored. And these people, I have found, will do everything in their power to get back in your vision. Back on your radar. It doesn't matter that they are annoying you.
They would rather be a nuisance than ignored.
I can relate.
I react the same way to being ignored.
But when you are on the other end, I also hate to feel manipulated by someone who won't be ignored.
Ugh.
Things are a little better today.
I feel a little more peaceful than I did.
I think I have been going through my life for so long with a skewed view of my role that it feels like skin growing over an ingrown toenail or something.
It just doesn't feel right anymore. It is uncomfortable.
But it also hurts to remove it.
The whole thing can't be ignored any longer. The time has come to make a choice.
So you have to deal with the pain of extraction and wonder if the soreness will be bearable.
It will. I mean, I guess it will.
I just feel a bit broken right now.
I am trying to put myself back together.
Piece by piece.
Humpty Dumpty ain't got nothin on me.
But the thing is that no one could him back together.
I will be put back together. And soon.
Time is the ally I need to woo now.
And then I will be healed.
At least that is what I keep telling myself.
And the music from boy boss has moved from Jimmy Buffet to the Beatles. Thank fucking god.
2005 is off to a bang.
I have already been given some tests that I wouldn't have passed a week ago. But now. No more shit.
In fact...I don't have much to say other than the lyrics from Green Day's "Are We Waiting"
Forget me nots and second thoughts
Live in isolation
Heads or tails and fairytales in my mind
Are we we are, Are we we are the waiting unknown
The rage and love, the story of my life
The Jesus of suburbia is a lie
And screaming
I feel like a release is happening
That is good
It is hard to open your eyes and find out the truth.
Especially for a sensitive soul like mine. But in the end, all the learning is what we are here for.
And all the learning makes us grow.
I am life's pupil (or bitch depending on when you ask me) and today I feel ready to graduate to the next grade. Granted, I have a bit of a 'tude. An edge. A rock and roll version of reality. Fuck it ...give me my diploma already.
Out.
Mads has a friend that rhymes each year with a phrase. She is neither as clever or funny as she thinks she is, but this particular year's phrase has made me smile. Maybe because it feels prophetic. Maybe because it is a bit ridiculous. Whatever the reason, I am trying to embrace it.
She recently titled the new year..."2005 - the 'P' is alive."
The P is for the female body part.
We were going to have a big sign at Mads's New Year's party that had that across it, but we opted to just say it over and over. We were going to have people fill in the blank of what they thought the P stood for in their lives. You know...more universal in a party kind of way.
I am choosing to say it with the female body part in mind. I would say that this past month and a half, I have been getting that mantra ready. It has been a mojo kind of month.
But in order to go forward, we must look backwards.
So here is my recap for what has occurred since last we spoke.
Christmas was fabulous at the beginning. Got an ipod. Yippeee. Also ate good food with good company and enjoyed a lot of napping by the fireplace. Believe it or not, it was a chilly san diego christmas.
The end of the weekend started to become not so fab. Rondie and her mom were in a fender bender on sunday morning and we were in the urgent care for 4 hours to make sure her mom's pace maker was still in place.
Leaving monday was a good time to split.
Did a lot of errands this week. Hung out with friends. Ate way too much yummy food. Drank way too much coffee.
Got my hair done.
Had a nervous breakdown when I saw that I now had a brownish head of hair rather than the toned down blonde I had requested.
Called Mads in hysterics. She convinced me to call the stylist and have her redo it.
Went in on New Year's Eve to have it redone.
Called Mads and said, "You are now talking to the happiest girl in the world" I know. It sounds so fucking shallow. But lately, since I have been emotional because of my monthly, and because I have eaten everything in sight (knowing that food baby will be ready to burst in a few weeks because of all the said eating), I don't feel the most confident. Except for my hair. And when i looked in the mirror and saw that my hair now was a mousy color (that I paid a pretty penny for), well, I just lost it. But now, it is the toned down color which is still darker than I had it originally, but lighter and more KaPow like it should have been.
Also realized a lot about sex and men and cheating and relationships.
Because of my casual encounter with Harry, I have a different feeling about casual sex. I never thought I could really be casual about sex. Turns out...I can. Who knew. I am almost becoming too casual. Not really. Well. Maybe a little. I guess I am making up for lost time when it all used to matter sooo much to me. I used to give way too much importance to men I slept with. Tried to make them into boyfriends when they should have just been flings. Got really wounded from people who hardly deserved my praise of them.
Mads said that she thinks there is a balance. I agree. that it is good to take it seriously too. It shows that you respect yourself not to open up your legs and welcome every sailor (those weren't her exact words). I think that for me, what I like is that I can enjoy the physical connections without hoping for more just because we had sex if I truly don't want more. And it helps me see the difference between Mr Right and Mr. Right Now.
I do love falling in love. I do love flirting. I do love making out. I do love sex. I used to combine them all and cram them into one relationship. Make them fit. They don't always all fit. It is wonderful when they do. And I am excited for that day when it will occur again. But I ain't throwing the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. I am learning the value of portion control of the whole shebang.
New Years party at Mads's was great. All the regular party people we knew didn't show, but new ones did. Lots of liquor was consumed. Glasses were broken, wine was spilled and by the end of the night, we all had become a basement make out party.
I caused a bit of stir. Actor and I were doing some fine flirting but I wasn't really thinking anything about it.
All of a sudden, he and I are in his car having a nice time. I can't even say how long we were out there.
Ennui's new friend walked by the car trying to sober up and noticed people getting hot and heavy in a car. He went back to the party and told people about the "New Year's couple" in the car. Derek came out with a tray of Jagermeister shots for the couple, only to be freaked out when he saw it was me. On his way back to Mads's apartment, he broke one of the glasses. I am not sure what he saw. I almost giggle thinking the worst of what he may have seen.
I didn't know any of this until this morning. When I would notice some people walking by, and I wasn't covered up, I was a little nervous of what everyone might have seen but I realized that I have been exposed in compromising positions throughout my life more times than I care to mention, so what was one more time.
Turns out, no one saw my boobie or anything. Maybe derek did but by the time I got back to the apartment, he was cozying up with someone too. Interesting night.
Still have someone else on the brain that I must release. Almost did a drunk dial last night to "express" myself. Glad I had the idea to wait until morning. Even if three hours of sleep is all that I got, it was enough to rethink the plan of the awkward "discussion" for some mythical, idyllic relationship potential that I already know has flown the coop. Passed its prime. Bitten the dust.
I begin 2005 feeling very sexy. I begin 2005 feeling a little smarter.
I begin 2005 with some reverence to 2004.
In looking where I was, I can see where I am going.
But first I must be in the present.
And this girl is presently tired.
So as I take my nap, I wish you all a happy new year.
2005 --- the P (whatever that is for you) is definitely alive!