Our Love Is Riding On Its Rails. It Sputters, Sparks, Then Fails

I am unhappy. That's the cliff notes version of my emotions right now. I started the day sad and somewhere along the way ended up even sadder before arriving in the land of pissed off. And I stayed there for about an hour and a half. I haven't been that angry in a long, LONG time. I've since come down from that and am just...I don't know. I had no outlet for my anger so I decided to work out and listen to some music (meditation just wasn't gonna cut it this time around). But that didn't help since the songs coming up on my shuffle were...let's just say interesting, given the situation at hand. And so I will write. Because everything else that usually helps is failing me at the moment.
I overheard a conversation while home with my family that got me thinking about a lot of things. I mean, A LOT of things. But while it was prompted by that convo, I'm sure it also has something to do with the season. I've never gone into a new year with so much uncertainty. And yet, everything will be resolved within two weeks time (some of it much sooner than that). There's a custody hearing that will (knock on wood) be the last one for awhile and put us into an agreement we can both live with long-term. There's a doctor's appointment that will tell me whether I'll be undergoing four more weeks of treatment for my anemia. There are two job interviews that will potentially affect the way I live. And then as the year moves forward, there will be dealing with sending my girl to preschool and watching my teenager move out on her own. I hate change. But ready or not, it's coming.
Before any of that, I have to deal with the state of a relationship that's important to me. I care very much about the other person and I want everything to work out in the best way possible for them. I want to fix things. But I can't help but wonder if that's even possible. Like, even if I do, am I still going to feel like I'm not being heard? Are there still going to be knock down, drag out fights where things that can't be taken back are thrown around? Is everything that's ever gone wrong going to be brought up again during those fights? Like I said in my last post, I genuinely do not know what to do. I want it to work, I don't want anybody to get hurt ever, but...I can't even explain it. I feel like I'm in a space that's too small. Picture a box and you're inside it and you're trying to get comfortable but it's four sizes too small. And it keeps being moved around for whatever reason and then repeatedly poked at with a stick. And every single blow is landing.
I definitely accept my role in all of this and know I am to blame for quite a bit of it. I'm not an idiot, I know what the score is. But just because I don't lash out about it doesn't mean I don't feel what's going on. I'm just emotionally spent. Today, especially. I dealt with family drama this morning and the relationship stuff all day long. It's been free falling over the edge, then pulled back up, then dangled over the ledge again needlessly. And as goes the relationship stuff, so go my emotions. Up and down and now...well, that brings me back to the beginning of this post. I just don't know how to feel. And I can't say that because it'd just be the wrong thing, since everything seems to be the wrong thing lately.
Someone pointed out to me recently that people communicate and fight in different ways but that part of a relationship is trying to walk a mile in the other person's shoes. And I've done that, I understand the issues here from the other person's perspective. The easiest way to explain is that I haven't given her what she needs, I feel like she doesn't listen to what I say and neither of us understands how the other one operates sometimes. One sentence sums up everything we're going through. When she's upset, she lashes out and she sometimes says things she'll take back once the storm blows over. When I'm upset, I stew about it and wait til I calm down to talk about it. When she's sad, she gets emotional and she needs to talk about it right away. When I'm sad, I get quiet and I'm stoic so I don't become a wreck. But just because I'm quiet on the other end of the line, that doesn't mean I don't feel anything at all or that I'm not equally upset about the state of things. *sigh* I don't know...it's been a long ass day and I need to sleep. If only I could...

If The Lyric Fits...

And I've spoken with all the other angels
They don't know what to do
And I agree with them wholeheartedly, I do.

Family Ties (Or Lack Thereof, Rather)

Happy Holidays kids. I have had an...interesting few days, to say the least. I've had the toothache from hell for about two days now and it was so bad the night before Christmas Eve that I woke up at three in the morning and took a handful of Tylenol. Since then I've been on ibuprofen round the clock, but the toothache has kept my mind off the constant joint pain. If it ain't one thing, it's another. But I slept (almost) through the night last night and have felt little mouth pain today and for that I am thankful cuz it hurt like a MOFO. My holiday has been uneventful this year. Not the usual grouping of stories to report back about. Part of that is the uncomfortable...uh...ness of my brother and his wife not being on speaking terms. Yeah, that was fun. Another reason is probably that the 24th marked the one year anniversary of a death in the family and everyone is still unsure of how to navigate it. But the holidays are for family and we've all been able to spend tons of time together so that's been awesome. And crazy aunt's sister (other crazy aunt) gave me the usual holiday grilling about when I'll be having more kids (not for a few more years at the very least) and getting married (never, and hopefully this year she got the message that my decision has been made on that subject).
This morning I spent an hour driving around with my loved ones looking for a Starbucks that was open. The line took forever and while we were waiting I got a call from an unknown number. I answered and had no idea who the person on the other end of the line was, even though she knew my name. The holidays bring out a lot of people I haven't heard from in awhile so I figured I was just drawing a blank on which friend this was. Only it wasn't a friend, it was one of my half siblings. Enter mixed emotions. I've written before about my brother's desire to reach out to some of our half sibs but my sister and I not needing to know anything about them. I don't know if my brother even keeps in touch with any of them but I know he met at least one in the months following our father's death. I also met one, though not exactly voluntarily, and we talked for a few before I let it be known I wouldn't be in contact with them anymore. I thought we were on the same page there. I thought that she would at least respect my decision not to get to know any of them. And she did, for awhile. She wished me a Merry Christmas and asked how I'd been doing, etc. and I didn't say much before saying I had to hang up because we were about to get our drinks.
The entire call was 2 minutes but it's provoked hours of mixed emotions and thoughts for me. After we hung up she texted that she'd like to talk again soon but I never replied. I guess I don't know how to feel. I definitely do not want to talk to her (or any of them) again. It may sound harsh but it's not like these people mean anything to me. I vaguely remember my mom telling us when we were kids that we had half siblings, we even knew their names, but I never thought anything about it. In a lot of ways our father's death turned a page for me and I'm not anxious to revisit that time at all. But I've been thinking about it today. In the immediate aftermath of his death I was intrigued by the things we had in common and I went through this weird period of needing to know more about him. Then I started to to hate what we had in common and I wanted to distance myself from those things. I told myself I'd revisit the similarities later on, when the emotions were less raw. But it's been two years and I've yet to do so. I don't want to. But...maybe today was a sign that I should...

All I Want For Christmas Is Some Icy Hot

Actually, I would prefer that version of Icy Hot that doesn't have a scent. Because the smell of Icy Hot just screams, "There is an old person in this vicinity!" and I'm not ready to go there yet. I'm home for the holidays and yesterday it was sunny and about 40 degrees and you didn't even need a jacket. Today? A foot and a half of snow and about 15 degrees (it'll be 8 degrees overnight). I woke up with a backache and then shoveled some snow, which didn't make the pain worse but also didn't help it. I did find the shoveling oddly calming though, which was new. I'm indifferent about snow in general. I grew up around it and have been through more than a few blizzards and I always find it funny when people complain about a little bit of snow. I loved snow as a kid because I got to play in it and then go inside for hot chocolate. I loathed it as a teenager cuz it meant I had to shovel and clean off the car before school. But now I guess I don't really care one way or another. Snow is nice though when it brings out the kid in you and you throw snowballs at small children for kicks. And when you see kids building snowmen (or 'oh-mans', as the younger kids call them) before heading into the house for hot cocoa and breakfast (which brought us the phrase 'awfuls', instead of 'waffles'). So today's snow was good. Maybe it will be a white Christmas.

Ain't That The Truth

An exchange with old friend Agent W.

Me: I hope you'll be available for advice giving yo.
Her: I'll try my best. Kind of have an action packed weekend too.
Me: No worries. I make equally poor decisions when we don't talk.
Her: I so very much wish I could disgree.

Deck The Halls

This is my family.

Uncle: What are you doing?
Mom: Hookin'
Uncle: You got a job!

(And now the backstory. My mom is working on some latch hook rug project and was assessing her next move when my uncle called.)
--
And another one from back in the day (read: 70's or early 80's).

Two of my uncles and their girlfriends decided to go caroling one year and were pretty decent singers. When they went to their grandparents house to carol, grandpa looked out the window, saw who was outside and turned off the lights and shut the blinds. Awesome.
--
In a few days I might be heading home for the holidays. I say 'might' because although I planned to go home, my doctor reminded me this week that I have to learn to take it easy and rest more. He's worried the stress of holiday flying might do more harm than good and I really don't wanna spend my time home being sick. But I also don't want my daughter to miss out on the holidays with the family. I figure I'll see how I feel after my treatment (the last one!) and then make the decision. If I choose to stay put I won't be alone but it will be a bit of a letdown to not be with all of my loved ones (Crazy Aunt, I'm talking to you). And it won't be the first Christmas I've spent away from home, I spent the holiday with a girlfriend's family a few years ago. I remember that being so foreign to me. Her family was great and we all pretty much got along but it was the first time I wasn't around my own family for the big day. Whether I go home or stay put though, I have to kinda, sorta do all of my shopping in like two days. I've done like 10% of my shopping so far. I'm a chronic last-minute shopper when it comes to Christmas but I'm not sure why, since I'm generally well prepared for whatever I need to get done. In years past I could blame this on my nog intake but I've given up drinking this month so I can't use that as an excuse. Maybe I just like being in a store and fighting two hundred other people for the last thing on the shelf. Upside: I can bring my pepper spray to aid with all my last minute shopping needs this year. Score.

A Simple Prop To Occupy My Time

I was up way too early this morning and I ended up at my best friend's place. I've been very down the past three days or so and she delved right into what was bothering me. And then we started talking about "the click". What is this "click" I speak of, you ask? Well it's been the death of the majority of the relationships this boy has had. And apparently it's contagious since a few members of my inner circle have dealt with the same thing. And we all hate it. I want to change it and maybe I've already turned a corner. I certainly hope I have. The cliff notes version of "the click" is that it's a light switch kind of moment where you tune out of a relationship. It's prompted by something, usually something small and happens primarily when you're looking for a way out of the relationship. It's kind of the same thing as not being ready to stay put so you look for ways to sabotage. And just like that, you shut off your feelings and start to move on, even if you're still technically with that person. I've dished out "the click" many times but have never been on the receiving end. I was, however, turned away by an ex once who was a victim of my tuning out.
Awhile back a close friend of mine introduced me to someone she thought would be good for me. She was beautiful, an Ivy Leaguer, and a music loving nerd like myself. She wasn't really my type physically but we had a lot in common so I pursued it anyway. It went surprisingly well at first. She was very forgiving of what I perceived to be my flaws. I even met her mom not long after we started dating because she was very close to her family and it didn't send me running for the hills to be taking what is usually a big step in a relationship. She left for work and things were great between us. Then her first night back I woke up in the middle of the night and looked over at her lying next to me. And I felt nothing. Still cared about her as a friend, wanted the best out of life for her, but I wasn't feeling the "it" that had drawn me to her in the first place. I didn't say anything and figured it was just one of those moments in a relationship when one person isn't as in it as the other but the pendulum would swing back around and we'd be fine. But after a few weeks things were still strained and I called it off, something she fought tooth and nail. We tried again a few months later but it was never the same. Eventually we both moved on and I became a father and things changed for me. We'd stayed friends (actual friends, not like when you say you're gonna be friends and then never speak again) but had never talked about trying again. Last year I went to a get together she had at her place and it struck me how awesome I'd really had it and I brought up the subject of us dating again. Shot. Down. She said she was happy I'd become the person she always knew I could be but that she didn't think our friendship could survive another try at dating and she didn't wanna lose me as a friend. Then she got brave and asked how things could've changed so suddenly for me when we dated before and I didn't know what to say. I tried to explain it to her and she thought for a second and told me I should've talked to her about "the click" instead of tuning out and making up my mind that that was it. And she's obviously right. We still talk now and then but aren't really friends anymore. But I'm glad we got that last chance to sort everything out between us.
I realize that I've stopped a lot of things that could've been great dead in their tracks because of this whole tune out thing. Everybody gets bored at some point in relationships but that's why you talk about it and get past it, rather than internalize and cut and run. Lesson learned. But the lesson is not always applied and that's what I need to work on. I just don't understand why I feel so on edge and upset right now. I have no real reason to be. And it annoys me that I don't know why. But I'm happy that it doesn't have anything to do this time with "the click". I guess that's something huh.

Ode To The Birthday Girl

Miss M...been a long couple of years for you, kid. And yet it doesn't seem like that long at all. I still remember the day you were born. I definitely remember your mother's pregnancy and the mood swings that would not end. Good times for all. Now here we are on your second birthday and you are nothing like what any of us expected. But then maybe we should've expected a little hell raising considering your genes and the fact that your mom went into false labor six times before you finally decided to grace us with your presence. (I still maintain you were laughing every time we got all excited about the possibility of birth, you kicked something fierce after every trip to the hospital). I love all of your cousins but I do feel some kind of extra bond with you and your brother, probably because I've actually had a hand in raising you both. And I write to all of you on your birthdays and other special days because they fly by way too fast and I hope that someday ya'll get to read what I wrote you. And maybe you'll think I'm a gigantic nerd for doing it but maybe you'll understand why I do it once you get older and/or become parents yourselves.
You are more mobile than any child I have ever been around. You started walking at nine months (so did I, high five!) and you have terrorized anyone who's in charge of watching you since. And when you take off you run like the devil is chasing you. Maybe you're gonna be an Olympic sprinter someday and you're just training yourself early. But it's both funny and terrifying when you run off because sometimes you try and run for the street. (And you need to stop that or someone is gonna get hit by a car trying to catch you.)
You are a very resourceful young lady. This time last year you discovered how to unlatch your crib and your playpen and gave your mother a heart attack when you tumbled out of your crib. You've since taken this skill a step further and figured out how to undo every child lock known to man. If we turn our back on you for thirty seconds you're into a cabinet or trying to open a door. Maybe you're gonna bust yourself (or your boy toy) out of a maximum security prison someday. I hope not, but hey it's still a good skill to have.
You are a climber. And you are less than graceful in your scaling. (Don't fight your lack of coordination, it's a family trait.) A few weeks ago you and I spent some time together and I turned around to talk to somebody. When I turned back to check on you, you were climbing on the couch, lost your footing and fell onto the carpet. You cut your little arm and I patched you up and held you while you cried for twenty minutes. Then you decided you didn't need no band-aid and you ripped it off and stuck it to the coffee table in defiance. Maybe you're gonna be as stubborn as me when you grow up. (Another family trait, although there is some discussion about whether or not you can fight it.)
You are in love with all things sports. Nick Jr.? Not for you. The ONLY way to make sure you stay on the couch and are quiet and entertained is to turn on a sporting event of any kind. You will sit there fascinated for hours and blink so little that we have to snap our fingers in front of your face to make sure you're alive. Hockey (woo!), football, baseball, soccer, basketball, boxing, you don't care as long as there's action. And it's hilarious to see this tiny little girly girl in all pink watching sports. Maybe you're gonna be a coach or a statistician or an athlete. Personally I think you would make a darn good coach now. And if you choose to be that, I will be at all of your games to watch you coach. Not sure what the equivalent of that is for statisticians but I'll figure it out and do that too.
The point is that I will love and support you no matter what you choose to be. And I cannot wait to see how all of that is going to turn out. You're very independent and as soon as you learn to do something, you wanna do it without assistance from then on. You're unlike anyone else in this sideshow of a family. And although it hasn't been the easiest of rides your first few years, I promise you it will only get better. You have a million people who love you and would do anything for you. Never forget that.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS M!

"Friendship Is A Single Soul Dwelling In Two Bodies" - Aristotle

I got a text around noon yesterday saying, "I heard you died. Soooo...can I have your coffee maker? ;p". And with that, I was launched into some quality time with the best people I know. I was a huge fan of "Lost" and while a lot of people didn't like the series finale of that show, I thought it was brilliantly done and I loved the takeaway. The idea that we're linked to certain people in this life, the next and every life past who are there for all the important moments of our lives really struck a chord with me. I like that idea a lot. And I definitely have my little group to move through the ages with. These folks are without question soulmates to me. I've known all of them at least a decade, and a few since childhood. We've been through major losses, huge gains, two weddings, five engagements, two babies, a car accident, cancer and countless good and bad ideas. I can't imagine what I'd do without them. We're like a bunch of old marrieds now. Everybody knows everybody's business and everybody dishes out unsolicited advice. And that is incredibly comforting. They were there when the world came down the first time and they'll be there if it ever happens again. They bring me back down when I get too excited and carried away about something, as I am so often prone to do. They set me straight when I screw up or when I get in my own way and try and sabotage what's good for me. They show up unexpectedly when I've had a bad day or a health scare and cheer me up without even doing anything special. We're very similar in some ways (relationship patterns, anyone?) but extremely different in others. But we still gel. And it's amazing we're all still standing considering where we've been. And times like this weekend remind me of how lucky we really are. I don't use the word blessed very often but I definitely feel very blessed to have all of them in my life. Both this life and the next one.

Do Not Blindly Believe What Others Say. See For Yourself What Brings Contentment, Clarity and Peace. That Is The Path For You To Follow.

I found out today that my family's holy man (aka priest) died a few days ago. This dude knew our family through four generations and actually played a pivotal role in what happened to me post-accident. We had a conversation while I was still in the hospital, our first one in years since I hadn't gone to church in ages. He had been on call to give Last Rites if need be but instead ended up counseling me once I woke up. He was in his 70's at the time and had just talked to me about my girlfriend's accident a week or so earlier. Ironically he was about the only person who didn't tell me that it was "god's will" or any other crap try to tell you when you lose someone. He'd just listened. And he listened again while I was in a hospital bed telling him I didn't believe in anything anymore. His response? "Well I don't blame you, son." It was definitely unexpected but it was exactly what I needed to hear. Nobody else seemed to get that I just needed to be upset and grieve in my own way. A few weeks after I got out of the hospital I walked into church for the first time in a long time. We talked for a few hours about so many different things and I told him that I didn't understand why any of this stuff had happened and that I was so pissed off about it. He said I was having a major crisis of faith and that I needed to seek out something to believe in or else I was gonna self-destruct. That holy man knew what he was talking about. I did start seeking but I also took a break to self-destruct. I got caught up in all the bad stuff and lost touch with him, but he still talked to my aunt and company and knew what was going on with the family. One day I was reading through one of my books on religion and a certain passage (also the title of this post) reminded me of him. It was everything he'd told me years before. I saw him for what turned out to be the last time almost exactly a year ago. He looked good and he told me he was proud of me for getting things together. I told him I felt much better than before and was very much at peace with where I was, especially spiritually. He said he wanted to have a conversation about my "journey" but since it was the holidays, he was pretty booked up. I left before we could have that talk and now we won't get the chance to. But I will always be grateful for the talks we did have. RIP Father.

Break On Through To The Other Side

Hello there, it's good to be back in the land of the bloggers. It's good to be back in general. A very hectic and kinda scary few days round these parts. My teenager is still wanting to move out once the year turns over and, while I'm on board with the plan, her father is not. He wants her to stay with me until she graduates in 2013 (rapture permitting, of course). She's resistant to that idea and I can't say I blame her. She's thought about moving out for awhile, she can afford to do it if she has roommates and I'm sure she'll do just fine out in the world. Her dad vetoed the plan and when she resisted to doing what he wanted, he threatened to pull her tuition. What the hell kinda sense does that make? Granted, college degrees (especially in "creative" majors) are a bit obsolete now but she's more than halfway home so she may as well finish the race. And what kind of message is he sending anyway by making it more difficult for her to get an education? I don't get it. Dude can hold a grudge like nobody though and I know he's still upset that I agreed to take in his daughter instead of sending her right back to him. He's yet to actually follow through on the threat (I think because my aunt has taken him to task about it) so the plan to move out is still in motion. And I don't see the big deal. I love her like she's my own and if I had a single worry about her leaving then I would be protesting about it. But I really feel like it's the best thing for her. We've had five years together and it's been quite a ride but I think our relationship will improve greatly if we're no longer under the same roof. I just hope her father comes around.
The scary part of the last day or so involves the teenager and me and my anemia. Monday I had my second round of IV drugs but didn't get the same drunken high the first batch gave me (much to the chagrin of...well, everyone I know and love, who were looking for another free show). Instead I got this awful joint pain, which I had the first time but not immediately and not as bad. I'm supposed to check with the doc before I take any other medication so I inquired about what I could use for the joint pain and he recommended an OTC pill. I took two and it barely made a dent in the pain. The next day I called the doc again and he prescribed another painkiller, something I wanted to avoid like the plague but was willing to try cuz the pain was so terrible. It worked very, very slowly. I took the pill at like 4 but still had pain until about 1 in the morning. On top of that I have this cough (side effect of the IV meds) that is getting on my last damn nerve. Yeah, that was all kindsa fun. I finally fell asleep around 2 and had set my alarm for 9 so I could deal with some stuff in the morning. But that never happened. My alarm went off and it didn't rouse me. The teenager came home from a class and heard the alarm going off and came into my room to find me still asleep in bed. She tried to wake me and couldn't and she swears that I wasn't breathing when she found me (but I was more likely just deep sleeping). She freaked out, shook me really hard and I woke up and started coughing and it was hard for me to take a deep breath. I spent the day in the hospital and I'm off the painkiller now but it was definitely a little freaky. I cannot wait to be through with the last two doses (I hope) of this medication.

‎It Is Difficult To Accept That We Are Both The Prisoner And The Guard.

A friend of mine has a brother (we'll call him S to make this story a little easier to tell) who is 21, drinks too much and has two children by two different women, the most recent of which was born a week ago. S lives in one state, baby mama number two (henceforth known as Mary) was in another state in a home for mothers giving their babies up for adoption. S is supposedly "engaged" to some other chick but begged his sister to help him get to Mary so he could see the birth of his first son (we'll call him Jesus, in the spirit of the season). So his family pooled together and got him a bus ticket to where he wanted to go and he got there without incident. Part of his trip was to try and convince Mary not to give up the baby for adoption, something she had been on the fence about doing anyway. The baby was born and, after a lot of back and forth, they decided to keep him and named him (although not Jesus, nor any other name I suggested but I digress). And that's when an even bigger mess began. Mary and Jesus wanted to get back to her home state within hours of the baby's birth, partially because they had nowhere to go since she opted to keep the baby and couldn't go back to where she'd been staying. S seemed to think his family could just wave their magic wand and make everything he wanted a reality. He wanted his sister to fly to where they were and drive a ridiculous amount of hours to get mother and child (but not him) home. But she said no and they decided he'd drive overnight and stay with a friend of his sister's for a few days before figuring out their next move. While staying with his sister's friend, he drank and smoked and was generally uninterested in what was happening, other than trying to figure out how to get home. His sister said she'd fly him and the baby and Mary back to their home state but he didn't want to go. Actually it seemed like he didn't want to spend anymore time with either of them, he just wanted to get back to where he lives. So he was offered a flight to where he wanted to go and he refused it because of his anxiety about flying. Instead he opted for a two day, 40 hour bus ride. Early on in the ride he called his sister and asked her to get him a plane ticket in the next big city the bus would stop in because he was worried about some shady characters on the bus. She refused because he'd made his decision about what he wanted to do and he had to live with it. Later in the day he calls again, drunk, because he was kicked off the bus for (supposedly) being an innocent bystander in the midst of a fight between two dudes. He was more than halfway home when this altercation took place. It was midnight, he was stranded at a bus station and he was using some stranger's phone because the battery on his had died. And the phone call was the same as so many previous ones with him wanting his sister or his mom or anybody other than him to fix the mess he'd made. Eventually they figured out how to get him to the airport (although he almost got arrested on the cab ride over) and onto an airplane and, with any luck, he gets home without anymore incidents. But the whole thing is so stupid.
This was far from the first time this dude's sister and mother have had to clean up his messes. They're all tied together because mom would freak out if anything happened to him but she's dependent on his sister to be the go-between and figure everything out. And he doesn't seem to care about any of it or anything but himself. Earlier this year, he had moved to a new state to live with his brother and try and get his life together. He was sober, he was on a set schedule and he had a job that he was doing very well at. He was channeling his energy in a positive way and everyone was better for it. His sister's relationship with her mother improved because their every conversation was no longer about his latest fuck up. Not to mention they were both unburdened by wondering what his next fuck up would be. The downside for him of course was that the spotlight was no longer on him and he wasn't controlling everybody's situations. And apparently that bored him. After a few months of good behavior, he took off and started drinking again and met some chick he says he's engaged to. And everything went to hell again. And even if any of them were to cut the cord, I'm sure he'd still find a way back in and they'd still have to deal with whatever he does next. And round and round we go. As much trouble as my own brother has been this year, I know he's not a complete monster and that he will eventually come around (as he seems to be doing now). I can't imagine what it's like to not know if there's light at the end of this kind of tunnel. I'm exhausted and I haven't even dealt with any of it, so I know it's ridiculously tough for the people actually involved.
At the end of the day he's technically an adult (if only in age and not in mental capacity) and he's going to do what he's going to do. If he doesn't want to raise his kids, he won't. If he doesn't want to stay sober, he won't. Those are choices he makes for himself and the paths he choose will lead him wherever they may, and that would be fine if it were only affecting him but it's not. It's affecting everyone around him and that stuff is like a virus that will just weave its way through until something happens to stop it. And even if he's not 100% adult-like in his thought process, he can still choose to not do this to everybody. The fact that he was able to stay straight for awhile proves that. He was choosing not to engage in the bad stuff and then he chose to go back to it. Yes, addiction is a disease but it's one you do have the power to overcome. But HE has to be the one to choose that, you can't help somebody who won't help themselves. Nobody's conspiring to keep him down, this is all his doing. He makes the mess but someone else always cleans it up. And the most maddening part of it all is that he's just so ungrateful; uprooting everyone's lives because he doesn't feel like doing the right thing. He calls out for help, gets the response and attention he's looking for, apologizes and then does it all again. I hope for the sake of all involved, especially his kids, that he finds a way to get it together and keep it together. I don't know what that's going to take but hopefully it's sooner rather than later.

And A Cognac Kitchens We Will Go

Remember that fear I had about my new drug regimen? Fear no more. Because I have discovered that I do not get depressed or sick or moody on my new drugs. I. Get. AWESOME. I was warned up and down about what the side effects might be, especially after the first dosage. The list of potential side effects was literally a mile long and it's kind of a crap shoot as to who reacts badly and who doesn't. So I go in to get this thing started and have to take a couple of drugs and wait 30 minutes before I start the heavy stuff. They hook me up to this machine and to a blood pressure monitor and for the first hour or so, this nurse stares at me to "watch for any reaction". My only reaction was annoyance and apparently that's not a side effect they're worried about. The meds went in very slowly and they increased the dose every half hour or so. There weren't really any complications, although my blood pressure did drop quite a bit when they upped the meds the second time and I had to take a few hits of oxygen. I felt fine while I was getting drugged up, except I was bored out of my mind (the nurse would later tell me I could bring my laptop to my appointments to pass the time). I started feeling really cold the last hour I was hooked up to the machine and then I felt kinda out of it. And here is where the fun began. As soon as I was liberated from the doctor's office, I was on some kinda high. I don't even know how to explain it, I felt okay but very up and I found almost everything to be hilarious. I dropped my sandwich on the floor and just laughed at it. A friend asked me if I was excited about the NYC tree lighting and I said I didn't know if I was excited and then laughed my ass off for a good few minutes. I was texting about "wandagons" (which was supposed to be bandwagons), changed 'counting kitchens' to 'cognac kitchens' and told my mom half a dozen times that I loved her in the span of a half hour (think a drunken "I love you man!" but with the last part changed to 'mom'). I also yammered on to my sister about something I wasn't supposed to tell anybody, within earshot of one of the people I wasn't supposed to tell. Yeah. I was a blast. I almost felt drunk and I know I certainly sounded like I was.
Everything in life is an adventure and my foray into the new drug program was no different. And while I was seriously freaked out about the potential side effects (particularly the one where your brain disintegrates), I came away from it with a bit of a different perspective. First off, I had to be in the chemo ward to get my meds and I think I was the only one there not being treated for cancer (thank god for that). That put my illness into perspective cuz I very well could have been one of those people. The other thing that happened while I was there was I got to read up on how other patients have responded to this drug, both those who have what I have and those who don't. It could have been depressing since it really does seem random who sees improvement and who doesn't. But instead I chose to focus on the good stories and there were quite a few to choose from. A couple of people went into complete remission and were there for years afterward. That's obviously the best, best case scenario. We're going for stable but would gladly take remission, even if it's temporary.
So I guess at the end of the day I had less to be concerned about that I originally thought and that's always a good thing. I still have to take precautions though now that I'm on this drug. I can't be around people who have received live vaccines (flu shots, etc.) for too long since my immune system is suppressed. I also have to avoid sick people because they could literally be the plague if they pass on their illness to me. But all of that is minor since things could always be much worse. And I would avoid sick people anyway since I don't like having the flu (although I haven't had it since I was a kid). That's really been the only downside to the steroids is the way they suppress the immune system. I had trouble adjusting my moods and sleeping when I started them but once my body got used to them, that got much better. My immune system was already kinda weak to begin with but now it's like if someone breathes on me I have to be very aware of it. But like I said before, it could always be worse. And I am very thankful it isn't.

I Won't Disturb The Slumber Of Feelings That Have Died

Nine and a half years ago my life changed dramatically within the span of a week. I don't remember hearing about my girlfriend's...leaving (I still can't say the 'D' word) for the first time but according to my mom she was the one to tell me and I didn't take it well. Then came my accident and I woke up two weeks later in a hospital bed and I didn't know what had happened to me but I knew something wasn't right because the one person I knew would always be there was not there. I had no recollection at all of what had happened to her. I asked where she was and the look on my mom's face told me all I needed to know. I wish I didn't remember hearing it the second time. I remember every feeling that went through me. I remember literally getting sick and needing to be sedated. And I remember the procession of shrinks and specialists that tried to get me to talk about my feelings in the days that followed. I've never experienced worse pain, in every way imaginable. There are some people in this life that I cannot stand but I wouldn't even wish that experience on them. It's too much. It's still too much sometimes when I think about it, as I've been doing a lot today. There isn't an adjective strong enough for how that felt. I could've just crawled into a hole and died as soon as I heard the news (both times, I imagine) and I came close to doing that several times. I didn't eat much, I could never sleep more than a few hours at a time and I kept thinking it was all just a dream. Every time I woke up after some nightmare I thought I'd be waking up to her. I completely shut down because I didn't know what else to do or how to react. I self-medicated because it was the only thing that didn't remind me of her. The only thing that would numb me and keep her off my mind. It was awful. It took me years to get back to being ok everyday and it wasn't until last year that I stopped thinking about her every other thought.
The entire experience of the accident and that kind of loss changed me in a lot of ways. I didn't cope well at all. I had PTSD and I was depressed but I refused to get help for either problem (hence the self-medication). I was in and out of a number of relationships but I applied myself in zero of them. I chain-smoked girlfriends and I didn't care what happened to me. Some called me on my behavior, some decided it wasn't worth it and moved on. My mentality was that everything and everyone dies so why get close to anything or anyone. Everyone dies, everything ends so accept that and close yourself off and don't get hurt again. I sabotaged and stopped things dead in their tracks before they could even start. I was a bastard. Nothing made me happy and I didn't like who I was at all because it wasn't me. And when you don't like yourself, you can't love anybody else. Eventually I found my faith, changed to a new way of thinking and realized the live keep living and I'm still here for a reason. I let go of most of my vices and I am a much better person for that. I'm definitely happier overall and I'm thankful for my second chance. But sometimes I still have a problem accepting the good things and I dwell on the negatives.
One area where I continue to be hesitant to accept love is my dating life. It took me a long time to be open to dating anybody seriously again and I still never really fully opened up. I'd get close but there would always be something held back. And even if I felt like I could really fall for someone, I still held back because of the 'what-if's'. What if I fall and the same thing happens again? It's completely irrational but it's how I felt. So I resigned myself to the fact that I'd probably just end up in and out of relationships the rest of my life but never have that same connection again. And that was fine, I'd already had it once and I was lucky for that. Then I was with someone I saw a real future with but things didn't work out. Not long after it ended I was talking to a friend of mine about it and she said something about how she was shocked this chick hadn't dug in her nails and fought harder for me. I was flabbergasted. It hadn't even occurred to me that anybody would want to dig in and stick it out and fight. I never really had (although I did try everything in that particular relationship), so why should I expect it from anyone else? I had more baggage than most and was not really worth sticking it out for. The next "big" (that term being relative since my relationships rarely last longer than 8 months) relationship I was in showed me what it was to fight. Only I wasn't the one doing the fighting, it was all her, because I didn't feel the same way she did. I cared about her, wanted her to be happy but I wasn't in love. But I understood finally what it meant to be on both sides; the one fighting and the one letting go. I felt a lot for one of these women but knew we probably weren't meant to go the distance. I loved the other one as a friend but I was never in love. And as much as I cared about both of them, I never felt the "it" that I would need to officially fall in love and be taken over by that awesome feeling.
So now I'm in something that has an incredible amount of potential. Something that makes me wanna fight and makes me feel like I want to let go and be completely taken over. But the 'what-ifs' are holding me back. And it's this paralyzing fear about losing someone I love all over again. I mean, I'm already in deep so if anything happened to this person it would shatter me anyway. (I get freaked out when she has a bad asthma day, forget about dealing with anything serious.) But I think this is also that arms length thing that I do creeping in. I'm still so afraid to keep anyone close because of what could happen. So I although I'm in deep and close and have fallen and all of that good stuff, I've also keep the distance because I'm terrified that it could all end badly and I know I couldn't handle that again. The funny thing is, it's been a very long time since I've been too close and yet, I feel like all I need is to be too close. I need to be with someone who wants to fight for me and who I'm willing to fight for. I need someone who flat out refuses to let me self-sabotage. Someone who understands where I've been and how awful it was and how much I never wanna go back to that place. So how do I let this last wall down and get myself to that person? That is I question I very much wish I knew the answer to...

Breaking Down Is Easy

I feel all kindsa disoriented right now. Sometime within the next 48 hours I start my new drug regimen. Basically I have to sit in a chair (in the cancer ward, no less) once a week for the next four weeks and get pumped full of a drug that the doctor hopes will send my levels to where they need to be. As with the last course of treatment there are no guarantees and it's all very wing and a prayer. I think what annoys me the most is that this is going to be three hours a week where I am gonna be unable to do anything constructive cuz I just have to sit there. And when I sit too long with nothing to do, I start thinkin' and it rarely turns out well. The doc says the first dose will likely knock me on my ass for a day and a half so I should be ready for that. The rest of the doses shouldn't be as bad but they emphasized that everyone responds differently and that it is a drug typically used to treat cancer so it's not small stuff. That freaks me out more than a little. But not as much as the possibility of having my spleen removed. I had another blood test and unfortunately I've regressed. My levels are going the opposite direction of where we want them to be and are close to being where they were when I was first diagnosed, which explains why I've been more fatigued than usual lately. On top of that my spleen is (once again) swollen and the doc says he doesn't recommend removing it anytime soon but that I should keep in mind it could be a last resort. I feel like every time he tells me my spleen is swollen, he follows up by telling me to give it last rites. But that's a problem for another day. I'm just very nervous and not sure how to feel about all this. I knew this whole different drug thing was coming but that doesn't make it any less scary. I've been on edge the last few hours since I finished reading all the stuff the doctor gave me. I'm kinda in that place where you're on the verge of breaking down and feel like any little thing could be the catalyst (although that's about more than just the medical stuff). But I won't break down. I'll write this, then I'll internalize and then I'll try to get some rest.

Turkey Day Trauma: 2011 Edition

Ah, the traditions different families have for their Thanksgiving day. Some play football, some just watch football, some choose to make dinner an adventure. That last one is my clans' tradition. On one particular Thanksgiving in my youth, my mom and grandma...uh...well, there is no other word for it other than to say they violated a turkey in ways no turkey should be violated. They dropped it, they fondled it and my sister and I will be in therapy for years talking about the trauma the incident inflicted upon us. About eight years ago, my aunt didn't get a turkey until the day before the holiday and it didn't defrost in time and didn't finish cooking til 11 at night, so we didn't have turkey that day. We've also had incidents with deep frying turkeys and, though I don't know whose idea it was to do it, hunting our own turkeys. And of course there was last years debacle of us not eating until eight in the evening. So, as much as I love Thanksgiving and the food and everything else, I am understandably a little uneasy when it comes to the actual dinner part of the day. And this year was almost another miscue.
My family does turkey breast instead of whole turkeys and my aunt tasked my cousins and I with getting this year's birds into the oven while she was out getting us coffee. Imagine our surprise when we cracked open the packaging to find that these birds had legs, something you don't find on turkey breast. We had whole turkeys and no idea how to cook 'em. Someone (read: my mother and I) didn't read the packaging correctly and thus we ended up with big birds. I called my aunt to ask her if we needed to change anything in the cooking but got no answer so I called my mom, whose first reply to my saying, "We have a problem, these are whole turkeys, what do we do?" was, "Wow...we got a whole turkey for $10?". Not helpful. We threw the birds in the oven and went on about our day and checked them four hours later and they looked done. They were not done. So dinner was delayed an hour and was a little slim on turkey since we could only carve the parts that were done. But it's no biggie when you consider we got to eat before nightfall this go round.
All in all, this year was pretty tame compared to years past and for that, I am thankful. A few other highlights of my day:

~ The night before Turkey Day I went to a hockey game with my 53-year-old uncle and he got hit on by some woman. Old people hitting on each other is G.R.O.S.S.

~ Crazy aunt began drinking at 11:30 in the AM when she asked my cousin to put a little liqueur in her Starbucks cup. Four hours later, my cousin walks into the living room to find her (wine glass in hand) completely enthralled by an infomercial for a Trojan vibrator. My cousin walks right back out of the room and claims he is temporarily blind. Later in the night, I come downstairs after taking a phone call and overhear crazy aunt say, "Well I don't see how a ball gag is a turn on". I wish I had been temporarily deaf at the time.

~ Mr. R was moved out of the ICU and is expected to come home on Saturday afternoon. I cannot tell you how relieved I am that the little dude is finally on the mend.

~ Whilst attempting to season a turkey, I get a shot of poultry seasoning in the eyes and up my nose. Burns. Like. A. MOFO. I rinse out my eyes and my sinuses but both still burn hours later. A few minutes prior to dinner I also burned my arm on a turkey pan, making two consecutive Thanksgivings where I've been burned (although this year I was burned in more ways than one. Here's to progress).

~ A definite highlight was getting a chance to sit down and talk to my brother for the first time in awhile. It was borderline productive. Again, here's to progress.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING GIRLS AND BOYS.

Get Well Soon Mr. R

I had a blog all ready to go about my sister and her partner contemplating have baby number four. But I just got a call from my sister informing me their youngest son is back in the hospital and they think he has pneumonia. Scary stuff for sure. This kid is ridiculously articulate and the sweetest kid I've ever met in my life. My sister and bro-in-law had debated adopting for awhile before starting the process, which took less time than they anticipated when they were given the chance to adopt a child with "special needs" (in quotes because I don't think being deaf is necessarily a special need but whatever). They adopted him two years ago and he and my daughter have been inseparable since. Whenever they're in the same place, they're together. I think the two of them sign better than any of the rest of us and it's cute to watch. This is the second time in about a month that little Mr. R has had to go to the hospital, but the last time was much less serious. I was supposed to head home this weekend for the holiday anyway but my trip just moved up. I wanna be there and help out anyway I can. Get well soon little dude.

Double Trouble

Last night I was a little hopped up on caffeine and had a tough time getting to sleep. So I watched TV for awhile and ended up on some show about twins. Apparently fraternal twins aren't all that interesting because everyone they chronicled was an identical twin. I don't really get the fascination with twins, but that's probably because I am one. And because twins run in my family; I have two sets of aunts who are twins, then my sister and I, and my cousin has twin boys. And every single one of us is fraternal. The thing about identical twins is that 99.9% of their DNA is the same, so they're basically the same person. Fraternal twins are basically just siblings who occupied the womb at the same time but are otherwise the same as any other pair of siblings. But there are still similarities in personality. My sister and I are almost identical in terms of personality and it's kinda crazy that we're still the same since my personality changed after the accident.
The thing in this special that kinda struck me was how all of these identicals talked about the connection they felt with one another. Just about all of them referred to their twin as a soul mate and I can't say I disagree with that. And I guess I understand why people are fascinated by twins in that sense because we're born with an immediate connection to someone else. And at the end of the day everyone wants to feel like they're connected to something or someone. But there's been a definite downside to the whole twin connection thing. Well, sometimes it's good because we can sort of sense how the other is feeling without even being in the same state. Many, many times when I've been on the brink of making a questionable decision, my phone rings and it's my sister. It creeps people out sometimes when that happens. And when I got into my accident, my sister says she knew something wasn't right and she felt sick. Then the stress of it all sent her into premature labor and her, my nephew and I were all in the hospital at the same time.
This show also made me realize I am very, VERY thankful my mom did not give my sister and I names that rhymed or started with the same letter. And that she didn't dress us in anything matching (some people do that even with fraternal twins, it's disturbing). I'm also glad she encouraged us to be individuals but then I think she had to do that after my brother came along. She knew she wouldn't be having anymore kids and she didn't want him to feel left out. So many of these people in this documentary talked about their parents keeping them in the same classes and not encouraging them to blaze their own trails independent of each other. Up until fourth grade my sister and I were always in the same classes because we had no other choice, our school only had one class for each grade level. After that we were, for the most part, always in different classes and we ran in different crowds in high school (some people didn't know we were even related). So we're lucky to still have an awesome connection but also be able to do our own thing.
I can't count how many times I've been asked what it's like to be a twin and I still have no idea what to say to that. I mean, I don't know any different. I don't know what it's like to not be a twin anymore than someone who isn't one knows what it's like to have a twin. I don't even understand what kinda answer people are looking for when they ask that. Whether I say it's terrible or it's awesome, I have to elaborate on why it is what it is. And what it is is pretty awesome.

Talk Me Down

I had a bad day. And yet, I still wish there were more hours in this day so I could sort out how I feel. I've spent the last few hours being talked down by a friend but I still have a lot to get off my chest. I feel frustrated. I just came down from being pissed off. I feel like what I've tried to say today fell on deaf ears. I feel a lot of things that I probably won't feel in the morning but I have to get them out somewhere and this is my forum.
I don't do many things right. My long list of fuck ups has been well documented here and everyone in my life knows just about everything I've fucked up cuz I'm an open book with my inner circle. But the reason I love these people is because they don't throw my fuck ups back in my face. In the moment, they will tell me everything I need to hear about what I'm doing wrong (constructively, of course) but once that moment has passed they move on from it (unless there's a reason to remind me of it, but that's never done in a malicious way). Because throwing someone's screw ups back in their face only takes them back to a bad place and makes them feel bad about themselves. And when you feel bad about yourself, you don't want to gravitate towards the good things because you don't believe you deserve them. And so, if you're me, you self-sabotage yourself to within an inch of your life because of that feeling of not being worthy. It's a fucking vicious cycle. I hate having the times I fucked up thrown in my face and I LOATHE when I feel like I'm not being heard. I don't care if I come down on the right or wrong side of an argument, I just need to know that what I'm saying is actually being heard. And I don't feel like that's the case right now. Maybe it's another miscommunication, I don't know. But it doesn't feel like a miscommunication. It feels like I was asked why I'm not okay and I said why I'm not okay and it didn't matter anyway. The response was that the other person got defensive and constantly reminded me of everything I've fucked up and nothing was any better than before we started having the conversation. Actually that's not true, things may have been made worse by my saying how I felt. And not for the first time. I'm just so fucking drained right now. There's so much I wanna say and so much I wanna do but none of it feels like the right thing. And I feel like I've gone completely inside myself because every time I try to come out and be honest and answer the question of how I feel, it gets turned into something else and I'm still not okay anyway. And then the other person cries and isn't okay and that's worse than my not being okay.
Another thing I can't stand is when something is repeated to me over and over like I'm an idiot who didn't hear it the first twenty times. Yes, I've fucked up and on many, many occasions. And they've said their peace and I've taken in what they say and genuinely listen to it and understand it but it always comes up again and gets tossed back at me. And now it feels like even if I right the ship and follow through and do all the things I should, it wouldn't make a fucking bit of difference. I'm sure I'd just fuck up the follow through in some way or another. I don't know. I don't wanna hurt anybody. I don't wanna fight. I don't wanna repeat my position or hear them repeat theirs. I want things to be okay but I'm nowhere near that and I don't know how to get either of us closer to that. I've taken responsibility for my part in the fights and I've tried to figure out how to get over it and be okay but I can't just conjure myself into that state. I can only feel how I feel and they can only feel how they feel but I seriously feel like what I say doesn't matter. If I'm quiet, then it's assumed I'm moody or being "weird". If I'm honest, that seems to backfire too. If I say I don't know how to be okay, it gets turned into me saying that I want out. So what the hell am I supposed to be? That's when I retreat and I internalize everything and I get quiet. And we talk about "sides" (and maybe I was wrong to use that word in the context I did) and seeing different ones and I didn't mean it to sound as if this person exposed some hidden side of themselves because I know that's not true. But I don't feel like I've shown a side of myself they didn't know either, even though they tell me differently. And no matter how much I say or write, it's still not enough. I still feel off. It's just another cycle and I hate it.
*sigh*...SO...what is my problem? Apathy, that's my problem. And it's not a new one. When I get hurt, I retreat and something clicks and I go into apathy mode until it feels safe to come out. Apathy is my bomb shelter. If you don't open up, you don't get hurt. If you don't care, you don't get attached and thus you can't get hurt. I think apathy did it's damnedest to take over in the midst of this fight and in the immediate aftermath. But it couldn't do its usual job because I already care SO much. I can't not answer a text or ignore an email because this person has a pull on my heart. So instead I distanced myself and was not fine. Then I felt a little bit better but not 100%. So I threw open the doors of my shelter and put it all out there in an effort to repair things. Big. Fat. Mistake. Because now I feel even worse. And now things are even worse and they were already weird to begin with. And I care so fucking much about this person that it hurts. I don't know what to do and I don't know what to say and I'm just really tired. But even in my frustrated/angry/whatever the hell I am right now state, I want this person to have the absolute best out of life and get everything they've ever wanted. They deserve all of that and so much more and definitely deserve more than I've given. So I don't know. I have no idea where things stand with us or where they'll stand in the morning. We certainly didn't solve anything today. This sucks.

Silenced.

I had this space marked for a long blog about my not so great day and even worse night. But I have yet to post it and don't know if I will because it was written in anger and frustration. If it's one thing I've learned this week, it's that words wield some kinda power. Words can be amazing and convey incredible emotions; whether it be you saying the actual words or letting the lyrics of a song say how you feel. Words can be like daggers and cut deep and it can be difficult to stop the bleeding. Words can both make everything okay or make everything worse. Words can lose their meaning and no longer be enough. All this is what makes words beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time.
Last week I used my words in a hurtful manner while in the heat of an argument (see here). It was stupid and juvenile and I still have not fully recovered from it. I take full responsibility for my part in it and for, unintentionally, escalating it. I know better and I should have stopped using my words and called for time out until both parties could converse with cooler heads. Maybe things wouldn't be in such a fucked up place right now if I'd put away my words sooner a week ago. Another lesson learned.
Tonight I'm left feeling as if my words are not being taken in the way I mean them to be. I withheld my words for most of the day, a side effect of being a thinker, and I wasn't happy. I couldn't really find the words to say what I wanted to anyway. I know which words are daggers and which words calm the storm, but none of them seemed to describe how I was feeling. But then I used the only words I could find to describe how I felt - and it only made things much worse. One more lesson learned. And now...well, I guess I'm out of words.

Familial Discord and Talk Of Sex Swings...These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things.

In exactly one week, I will be venturing home for the first of the major holidays. It'll only be for a week and I won't be taking my daughter with me, but I'm still very much looking forward to it. Thanksgiving is about the only holiday that just about everyone in my family goes home for. In fact, this time of year provides some of the better material for this blog and stories to tell friends in general. There was last year's great turkey debacle, followed by the construction of the play kitchen from hell. And, I'm not sure if this one made it to my blog or not, one of my favorite conversations ever took place last year a few days before Turkey Day. When most of the fam, young and old, were watching an episode of 'Law & Order' and my uncle made a crack about handcuffs and whether or not they had a latch on the side or if there's a key (a dig at my alleged bedroom activities). Without missing a beat my female cousin answered the question in a very knowledgeable way, which mortified my uncle who raised her but made the rest of us laugh hysterically. Then we all launched into a conversation about bondage. So...yeah, not your traditional family, nor Thanksgiving. But it's fantastic. I love these people and the trouble than ensues when we're all in one place.
But this year I'm not really sure what to expect from the festivities. Same characters, but the plot has totally changed from a year ago at this time. I mean, do we talk about my brother's issues or do we ignore all that and move on? Does anybody say anything about my cousin's ex-girlfriend getting engaged to her boy toy of thirty seconds, five minutes after she broke up with my cousin? Is it rude to bring up my other cousin's decision to freeze her eggs before we have dessert? Since our great grandma is no longer around to ask, should someone else ask yet another cousin if he's 'still one of the gays'? These are the questions I go into the holiday with. I think we're all pretty much done with my brother's drama. Thankful that he's even around to celebrate another holiday but still pissed at what he's put his wife and kids through. So I guess it's a season of uncertainty for my fam. And that makes me a little uneasy. But I'm gonna go out to see everyone anyway and just try and enjoy the ride. And I'm definitely not building anymore play kitchens.

Holy Roller

One of my favorite people on earth visited me last week and we hadn't seen each other in almost a year. I've mentioned this before but my cousin is awesome. I love everyone in my family and I know I shouldn't play favorites but the two of us get on very well and always have. The crazy thing about that is we're actually very different people. Same sense of humor but we live our lives very differently. She would marry Mr. Right tomorrow if he came along today and have his babies by the weekend, whereas I am quite content to wait a few more years before I have more kids and set down roots. She's religious and goes to church every Sunday, I'm not religious and well, ya'll know my Sunday routine. Oddly, our difference in religion seems to be one of the things that's brought us closer over the years. My family isn't all that religious (that I know of anyway, more on that later) but I remember being home a few years ago, back when I was still questioning and hadn't found what worked for me yet, and my mom and I were in the car and the talk turned to god. I don't remember what I said but I know I offended her and that was the last time I ever talked about my own beliefs (or hers) with my mother. That is also how I learned to shut my mouth about religion.
Last year I joined a dating site (something well documented here) and it asked about religion and I didn't list specifics but let it be known that I'm quite serious about what I do believe. I didn't think it would be a big deal to date or talk to someone with different beliefs since it hasn't been in the past. But then I got a very large number of messages from women who listed themselves as Agnostic or Athiest and it bothered me for some reason. I have friends who are Agnostic so that wasn't a big deal but I still don't think I could date one and especially not an Athiest. Everything is a learning experience and I learned that, while I don't really care what religion the person I date believes in, they have to believe in something or else it's not gonna work. One of my last girlfriends was pretty religious and so was her family and I was a little worried about how that would work out for us in the beginning. But on our second date, we had a very long and in-depth conversation about all things religion and we both knew what page the other was on. She did her thing, church every Sunday and Bible study every week, and it was just that - her thing. I understood how important her faith was to her and she understood how important mine is to me. And that acceptance on both ends was awesome.
I think I give off some kind of vibe about religion and I'm not sure why. I'm not anti-religion at all, I actually like reading up on religions and, eventually, I'm gonna make it through most of the sacred texts. What I don't like is the commercialization of religion and I don't understand mega-churches and how some people claim to be uber-religious but cast that by the wayside when it's convenient for them. And the way some people try and force their beliefs on others is really a pet peeve of mine. Someone called me anti-religious the other day and it really bothered me for some reason. I mean, I don't have a religion but that doesn't mean I'm against others who do. I think whatever works for people is their biz unless they choose to share it. But I know it's a very personal thing for a lot of people and it can also be an uncomfortable topic, which is probably why there's so much ignorance about other people's faiths.
I was raised Catholic, attended a Catholic school for two years and most of my family would still classify themselves as Catholic. But the thing about my family is that we don't tend to talk about big stuff like religion much, if at all. I don't know why that is. We talk about everything except religion and my accident. And they both feel like some big secret we're not supposed to speak of. I doubt the majority of my family even know what I believe nowadays. In the aftermath of my accident and the worst year of my life, I heard a lot of, "It's god's will" or, "She's in a better place" and it rubbed me completely the wrong way. And no one's said much since. I guess they're just glad I believe in something after all the hell and the dark ages and such. But I don't know why we can't talk about it. I know beliefs are deeply personal to everyone and it's easy to get offended when someone says something about what you believe. But when you think about it, it's called 'faith' for a reason. The majority of people believe in something they have no concrete proof of. *sigh* I have no idea why I'm so religion-y today. Just something to think about I guess. I'm sure I'll expand on this later.

Odds & Ends

I have about eight posts that are in various states of completion so I decided to combine a couple because I'm a bit lazy today. It's like a blotter of random crap. Don't worry, it won't be a common occurrence. We will return to our regularly scheduled blogging soon.
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Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don't

My medical stuff has potentially taken a turn in the past few days. I feel okay and, thankfully, the side effects of the steroids have been less. But the doc thinks it might be better for me to start a new form of treatment sooner rather than later. It was decided that I could try the steroids for a few more weeks and then if my levels weren't where they needed to be, we would try the next option. The problem for me is I've done some research on the next option and it leaves much to be desired. Steroids make me a crazy person sometimes (although my stubborn nature seems to be helpful in overpowering some of the side effects) but this new drug is basically a cancer medication and the side effects are literally a mile long. But that's not even the scariest part. Apparently this medication has been linked to some brain disorder that kills people in a matter of months. That do not sound pleasant. Also, while I only have to take this one four times a month, it has to be done in a hospital intravenously and I have to plan to sit there for at least three hours at a time. Ugh. I don't know what to do. The doc says it's "unlikely" my levels will get where they need to be with the steroids and he's uncomfortable tapering off the dosage when I'm not stable. But the side effects of the new drug could be worse than the benefits. So after researching some more, I decided I want to give the steroids a little more time. It's likely not going to make things any worse anyway. The doctor has decided to try and convince me otherwise and we have a meeting in the A.M. so he can address my concerns and we can figure out what actually comes next. *sigh*...Decisions to make...
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Scenes From A "Marriage"

Today, for the first time in EONS, I got to talk to a friend of mine (the one previously mentioned to be dating a holy man) that is better known as my "wife", if only on Facebook. Awhile back she was being pestered by some dude on her FB page to come to a singles mixer or something and to get him off her back she listed me as her husband. It worked and the dude backed off and we've both been too lazy to change it since (but I also don't use FB much anymore so I don't really care what my status is). It makes for good comedy anyway. How many people can talk about the people they're dating with their "spouse"? Anyway, here are a few highlights from our conversation of awesomeness.

W: And the dingbat Kardashians....
Me: How fucking ridiculous is that? 72 days.
W: Thank you!
W: Even you would last longer.
Me: lol Um...thanks for that backhanded compliment.
W: lol I was about to say, "You're welcome for the vote of confidence."
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W: I'm Catholic but just to get the holy man going, I mention the Easter bunny and Jesus in the same sentence.
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W: My co-worker's roomie will call and say, "W., this is God...I know what you're doing at night.  And I don't approve."
Me: lol My wife will talk to me about the little Jesus on the shoulder of whatever lady friend I happen to have at the time.
W: LOL
W: There are all kindsa things wrong with what you just said that they would freak out any person that didn't already know us.
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W: Speak of the reincarnated devil.
Me: Ok, it's the second post on the page.
W: I don't have the link saved on this computer.
Me: Oh for the love of reincarnated God, hang on...
W: LMAO
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Waisted

A few weeks ago, I had a little too much to drink on the advice of my mother. I had pain in my shoulder and she told me to have a drink to relax. I had like six drinks and I is not as steady on my feet after six drinks as I was in the pre-steroid era. But texting turned out to be my real problem. Basically if I tried to write more than five words in a text, I made a typo. It provided fun for my loved ones and, whilst my shoulder pain went away, my head throbbed for days after. Let this be a lesson kids - NEVER drink and text. And NEVER trust your mom when she says drinking will solve your problems.

"I may be a little durnk"
(Self-explanatory)

"Wouldn't it be cool if you died?"
(My attempt at...actually, even if you know the story behind it it doesn't make it any better so let's move on.)

"My mam told me to drunk for my shoulder pan"
(Change 'mam' to 'mom' and 'drunk' to 'drink'. Oh yeah and it should be 'pain', not 'pan'.)

"Well she's gonna be someone else's bird so you have to get over to her."
('Bride' was the word I was looking for. Also, there should be no 'to' between 'over' and 'her'.)

"I didn't know you were such a rapist"
(Was supposed to say 'racist'.)

Friend: "Maybe you should stop texting, I think you're too wasted."
Me: "Waisted. You know I'm a gramma whore."
Friend: "LMAO! Read that back."
Me: "Damn it. WASTED. You had it right."
Friend: "Uh, I'm more concerned with you whoring out grandmas dude."
(Again, self-explanatory)

Chastity Belts

I have two friends in very similar situations (though on opposite coasts) in their relationships. One I have known since college, way back when she was still a "rookie", a nickname I gave her because she was still a virgin (she, in turn, gave me a nickname - "bastard"). Eventually she ditched her virginity and later on became involved in a little something with a guy on the track to become a priest. Good idea? Eh, as long as she's happy. That didn't work out and she moved on to a long-term relationship that ended a few years ago. She's been dating a nice young lad (I can say that cuz they're both younger than me) for awhile now and it was made clear very early on that he is also considering becoming a holy man and fornication is a no no. This was not really an issue in the early days cuz they were just letting it take them where it may and sex was an afterthought. However, they are now in the stage of really, really, REALLY liking each other and my friend is...well, she ain't liking this drought business. The other day she texted me that they'd gone to second base and I was oddly proud of that. But the day after that happened she was greeted with a lecture from the holy man about how they're not going to second base again. Something about how he's saving himself for his future wife. So although her kitchen be totally open for business, he's made it clear he will not be patronizing it unless a ring is put on it (if one ever is, it's still early). And so, the drought continues. Years ago, I would have said I didn't understand her attitude of staying with someone still in the shrink wrap, and she can vouch for that. But now, slightly more mature, I understand it's not about sex. It's about connection and so on. And as long as she's happy with him and it works, then more power to those crazy kids. If it doesn't work out, well maybe she can go for the hat trick of holy men.
The other friend of mine in this situation turned 34 this year and has a couple false starts in the 'happily ever after' category. He was engaged at 19 to his high school sweetheart but she was killed. He met and fell hard for one of my old high school friends a few years ago but that ended when she cheated on him (in his apartment, no less). Then he had an affair with a married lady ten years his senior (but no one thought that was gonna work out anyway). Now he's dating a chick his mom set up him up with and they really like each other. She's 33 and a virgin and told him on their second date that they would not be getting down anytime soon. He said he's willing to put sex on the back burner and see what happens between them. Well, apparently stuff is happening at an accelerated rate because she's started dropping hints that she wants him to meet her family. It could be nothing, their parents already know each other (that's how they met). But he feels like it could be a bigger deal. On top of all this, her family is VERY religious and he isn't so he's not sure how the meeting is gonna go. But people with different religious views date all the time and what's important is they like each other and they respect and can live with the other's views. I really hope this works out the way he wants it to, he deserves to be happy and I know he is (for the moment) with her. And out of all my friends, he's probably the most...well, he's probably the only one out of all of us that can go without for years (if need be). So more power to him.
It's funny how views change as you get older and experience more of life. In college I thought anyone who was still a virgin beyond 24 was some kind of religious weirdo. And there was no way I would have ever dated one. I did date an uber-religious chick who had only been with one other dude but that was post-college and was ill-fated from the start. I've always been attracted to older women so the virginity issue has been non-existent in my own dating experience. But my friends seem to be all over (pun intended) older virgins this year. A new trend I guess.

Perspective

Ah, idiocy. It comes in so many forms these days. It's hard to believe that there are those who invented the wheel and those who are too stupid to get out of the way when they hear the wheel hurling towards them. A fellow in my building is a definite member of the lesser caveman group. He's a nice enough guy but he lacks more than a few common sense brain cells. Let's start from the beginning. A few nights ago, the power in my building went out. It was down for about ten minutes before there was a thirty second spark of light and then it went down again. Thirty minutes later there was power again, but only for thirty minutes (I guess that night's number was 30 and it was brought to us by the moron downstairs). Then - OUT. For I don't even know how many hours. It was only our building so people were flipping their fuse boxes and trying to figure out the issue. But there was nothing we could do so I sat in the dark with one flashlight and one candle and a toddler who was nervous and wide awake because of all the ruckus outside our door. Then the power kicks back on again but it only lasted about five minutes. Finally, it comes back on to stay and things start to calm down and the kid falls back asleep.

Yesterday we found out what the cause of this mini blackout was and it was...idiocy. I don't even know how else to describe it. Last week this dude decided to paint his apartment (in freakin' October) and brought in a big fan for the fumes because he didn't want to open the windows. This was genius move number one. The fan was too much electricity and the power went out in the middle of the day for about two hours (I wasn't home at the time). Genius move number two, although to his credit he did learn something from his mistake, was renting a generator to plug his new toys into. He also got some bright ass lights so he could "see the paint color better" but didn't plug those into the generator. Cuz those won't be too much for a normal electrical circuit, right? Genius move number three. So he's running all this crap at the same time and, surprise surprise, the power goes out. Does it occur to him that he's the reason it went out? No. Does he close up shop and stop plugging stuff into every outlet in his place? No. In fact, after the power came back on the first time he fired everything up and kept painting. I don't think dude is playing with a full deck, if even a half deck. So, the second time he plugged everything in was too much and thus the power was down for the count.

In the end, it was a minor annoyance but you know how we are these days. Even minor annoyances become major in a hurry. Until you're brought right back down to earth by your own health issues. I had an appointment the other day with my doctor to see how my steroids are working. The news was about what I expected; they may be working a bit but we don't know if they're working as well as we'd hoped. Ideally, my levels start to stabilize (though not get back to normal since they'll likely never be even close to normal again) and I can scale back on the steroids until I get to a dosage that just manages everything. (There's a tiny chance I could even go into remission at some point, but that's only if I'm REALLY lucky.) But all of that could be a ways off now. My levels are borderline and now I have two choices for treatment. I can stay the steroid course for a few more weeks and hope my levels get just over borderline, although it's unlikely to see anymore improvement from the steroids. Or I could start treatment with some cancer drug and hope it works it's magic. Oh, and it's more likely to work it's magic if they remove my spleen first. Fantastic. Given that I have grown quite attached to my spleen in the past 30 (there's that number again) years, I've opted to go the steroids route. I know it likely won't change anything but my levels are better than they were before I started them so maybe a few more weeks does help. It's a leap of faith but I really don't want to consider surgery and even harder core drugs yet. I don't know. It could be the wrong decision altogether. The hardest thing about this is that nobody I know has dealt with it before so nobody knows how to give me advice about what to do. So I'll go with the steroids. And hope that it works out.

I Like You...Let's Get Married But Continue To Live Separately

I've had a couple of conversations the past few days about kids and marriage and what it all means. It's amazing how your views change as you get older and have more life experiences. For the longest time I wanted three kids, which is not unusual since you usually want the same amount of kids you grew up with. Then I didn't want any cuz this world is a little much to bring a little being into. Then I had one and it was the greatest thing ever. It still is the greatest thing ever (some days) but my little being is no longer at an age where she thinks everything I say or do is awesome. She's now at the age where she realizes her dad is a gigantic nerd who is probably gonna cry when she starts school in a few years. And honestly, although I love the girl more than life, I miss her younger years. So it's probably not surprising that I've been looking at younger kids on the street and it's making my clock tick. The other night I was asked how many more kids I want and, for the first time in awhile, I lacked an immediate response on the subject. Normally I would immediately say I was done or I was on the fence but neither of those were what my gut told me. Instead, I went with at least two more kids, three at the max. That would be four kids total for me and that would be chaos. But it does sound kinda fun (on the good days, anyway). The person I was having this convo with said she knows me and knows how much I love kids and know for a fact that I want more. So I guess I can't say I'm on the fence anymore and I do definitely want more kids at some point. And it will happen if it's meant to be.
Today this same person and I had a conversation about marriage, and not for the first time. The first time we talked about it I said something about how I never wanted to get married and made it sound like the plague. I got called out and she said she thinks my opinion on marriage has everything to do with the fact that I'm not at that place in my life yet and so I run away from it. You stick with what you know and I know how to not be married. Our convo today veered off into cohabitation and whether it's a necessity for two people before they get married. I think if you're together long enough then you don't really need to live together before you get hitched. But I feel like if I were that into somebody I would probably wanna live with them, if I was sure they were it for me. My friend's opinion is that the big hold up about marriage for her is that whole pesky living together thing. She needs her space and thinks that living together would be too monotonous and would limit her freedom. And I get the whole needing space thing, most people need their own space, but I don't think it has to be so black and white. My sister and her partner have lived together forever and they're both the type to need their own space and time apart, and they get that. On the other hand, my cousin and his (now ex) girlfriend lived together for a few years and fought like cats and dogs because it was too much togetherness. So I guess it depends on who you end up with. If you end up with the right person, ya'll balance each other out and you navigate your way through it and everyone gets the amount of alone time they need. And it's interesting that that's the view I take on it cuz I'm a very independent dude myself. You would think I would be on board with a plan that calls for living separately but still being committed to one another. I don't know. Definitely something to think about I suppose.
The marriage talk today was prompted by the whole 72 day reality show wedding debacle. I love how this story had pissed so many people off for so many different reasons. It's ridiculous. It doesn't directly affect any of our lives and yet people are still both fascinated and upset. I don't understand the disconnect between these two people though. He seriously thought she was gonna move to middle America and be a basketball wife? Bless him if he truly believed that was gonna happen. This chick made like millions upon millions of dollars off of a sham wedding. I'm sure a lot more of us would get hitched if it only required a 72 day commitment and paid us $100,000 a day. Which brings me to another part of today's marriage convo - leasing with an option to...uh...keep leasing. I think that's the way to go about any relationship, really. Let's commit to five years, see how it goes and if we both still feel like it's the right thing, we'll re-up for another five years. Marriage is a contract after all. But it seems like marriage is becoming less and less sacred. I'm not exactly traditional (though I am in some ways I guess) but I do believe that if you commit to something forever, you should do all in your power to make it last for the long haul. Nowadays peeps get hitched on a whim and figure they can always just divorce at the first sign of trouble. It's so stupid. I don't know if this lease option will catch on but I wouldn't be surprised if it did. Traditional marriage seems to be losing favor since it's so easy to make a mockery of it. But, although I'm still firmly on the fence, it's nice to think that that old school kinda love might be possible.

You'll Get Hooked, You'll Get Drugged, That's The First Rule Of Love

Some people think there's a kind of romance about love being intertwined with pain. Admittedly, I used to be one of them but I don't know if it was by choice. My first girlfriend and I would fight like cats and dogs, say nasty things to each other, but always apologize and make up in the end. We were young, we were passionate and we didn't know any better. After she...left, my love + pain philosophy became more about me seeking out the pain part because I felt I deserved it. Almost as if I wasn't worthy of the love part if she couldn't have it too. Many a lady friend tried to convince me that my train of thought on the subject was ridiculous, but it didn't sink in until one hammered home to me that love and pain should not co-exist. And, as someone else once told me, old habits may die hard but they do die. And new, healthier habits are born, which is the way it should be. We should run towards happiness and away from pain, feel good about the good things and feel bad about the bad things, but don't dwell on them. I adopted that attitude a few years ago and it's a constant battle to stay on that track. But I find that I'm happier when I do.
It's always annoyed me that my brother has a pretty damn good life but he doesn't seem to want it. Two beautiful kids and a woman who (was) insanely in love with him. Living the dream. But because it wasn't the life he wanted he retreats and lingers in his tragedies. He's no better than our own father and he doesn't even realize it. For a minute (this was years ago), I was jealous of what he had cuz I felt like I'd been on a similar path of marriage and family with my girlfriend. But now I wonder if she and I would have suffered the familiar fate of marrying too young and ending up apart. Whenever I think of the what if's between the two of us, I end up in a negative place. It does nothing but remind me of how terribly I miss her. So I try not to think about it so much but it's tough because I feel so guilty when I don't. Like I said before, it's a constant battle.
The other morning I was up way too early and got to thinking about some stuff. This is what I've come up with - love be scary. (But then, tis the season with Halloween right around the corner.) Love is a big deal for sure but it becomes scary when you think you're really onto something. It's a lot of emotions all at once, but it's an amazing rush. It's amazing to feel that way and, I would imagine, to know you make someone feel that way. It really is like a drug, perhaps the best one ever. The greatest emotional high. Love shouldn't just make you happy, it should make you better. It should challenge you. And I think love is better when you're a little bit older because you appreciate it more and you know how rare real love is. I don't know, I'm just rambling now and this may have become a throwaway post. I'm very tired. I guess the point would be that I love that feeling of being in love. Of saying it when you feel it and truly meaning it. Of all the little spontaneous romantic gestures that come with it. Of all of it. And I think you're damn lucky if you find that feeling.

Family IS Fun

So I was on a call with somebody when my sister starts texting me every two minutes. I was reluctant to end the call I was on because I don't feel well and being on the phone with this person made me feel at least a little better. But my sister's youngest son is just back from the hospital for an issue with a virus so I got worried something was wrong. Scratch that, I knew something was up but I knew it wasn't about her son (cue the eerie twin connection thing people are so in awe of). Apparently my brother and sister-in-law had it out over her saying she was gonna file for divorce tomorrow. He accused her of having an affair, she denied it and so on and so forth. Same fight, different day. In all honesty, I have liked my sister-in-law a lot more than my brother the past couple of years. She's basically been a single mother their entire marriage and as far as I see it, filing papers is just a way of making it official so she can go out and find happiness. Anyway, I talked to my brother for the first time in awhile and talked him down from his fit. But I didn't know what else to say that I haven't already. I love him, always will cuz I love unconditionally, but I won't talk to him as long as he's mouthing off and making accusations about cheating towards the mother of his children. And while I don't condone cheating at all, even if she did step out I can't say I'd blame her. So for now everything is okay and no papers have yet been filed and we'll see what happens next.
Yet another family matter that is weighing on my currently aching head is my teenager informing me she plans to move out of my place and in with her boy toy. My response to that, you ask? Four words, my friends: Over. My. Dead. Body. She's 21 so I guess if she actually went through with moving out, there wouldn't be anything I could do about it. But there is just so much dysfunction between her and the boy toy. I recognize it so well because it's like watching my first girlfriend and I when we were a little bit younger than Ricky and Lucy are now. So hot and cold, in love one minute and fighting on the front lawn the next. This week she wants to move in with him, next week she'll be telling me he's an ass and she's gonna break up with him. Same pattern, different decade. And I know the only reason she's so anxious to leave my place is because she doesn't agree with my rules. Tough. She has it pretty damn good with me and I'm curious to see how she thinks she's gonna pay for a place with her boy toy, since they're both students and don't have very much money. *sigh*
And, on one last family note, I had a conversation tonight about adoption that struck a chord with me. A friend's brother knocked up a chick and then took off to do his own thing and the baby is due next month. The mom-to-be is 21 and her family is refusing to help her out if she keeps the baby and she's not really in a position to raise it herself so she's all but decided she's going to give it up for adoption. The father's family doesn't want that but they can't really offer much assistance either and they can't get a hold of the pregnant chick to try and convince her to change her mind about the adoption. The situation sucks all around. I'm not knocking adoption, my sister's youngest son is adopted and none of us can imagine life without him, but I guess I'd never thought about what happens to the birth family after a kid is put up for adoption. Obviously I feel for the friend going through this because I know how it's weighing on her and it kills to not be able to help. I mean, what can you really do? Convince her you'll help as much as you can and hope she accepts the offer? Taking the kid and raising it is pretty much out of the question since that's a big financial burden (take it from a dude who spent entirely too much on shoes for a 3-year-old last week, babies ain't cheap). I don't know. And I have no idea what I would do in that position. It would majorly suck to have a member of your family out with god knows who and you never get to see them. My brother became a "parent" (term used loosely because I still don't see him as a parent) at 19 and I very well could have ended up in the same predicament my friend is in. My brother never wanted kids and he tried to convince the future Mrs. to put up their son for adoption but she wouldn't hear it. But I don't know what she would've done if her family had shunned her and my family couldn't be there to help her out. I might not have gotten the chance to know my nephew. This is like the ultimate catch-22 and it breaks your heart. I feel for the friend and her family and I feel for the kid who's in limbo right now. But...everything for a reason, I guess and it will work out the way it was always meant to be. I just hope the way it's meant to be involves the baby being able to know his birth family on (at least) one side.
*sigh*....Yeah, family is a blast. And I've had enough of this ride for the evening, I'm headed to bed to shake my head and stomach aches. (And I feel old saying this but my back hurts too...like a freaking old man, I tell ya. It's sad.)

Crossing Over

I am now a few days into my new medication schedule and I seem to be doing better than I was when I first began. I'm still moody and I snap at people but I'm starting to find ways to reel myself in (whether that's cuz of my sheer stubbornness or cuz my body's getting used to the meds, I'll never know but I'll take it). Now that the medical crisis is (for the moment) in check, I have to turn my attention to figuring out what I wanna do to like make money and stuff. There are always options and offers to consider but nothing I can't really live without has presented itself yet. Maybe it's naive but I want whatever I do next to mean something. How I get from here to there is the question. I've had more than a few conversations recently about how I seem to be at a crossroads in just about every area of my life. It's kinda made me feel like a college kid who just graduated and has some grown up decisions to make. And it's got me thinking about all the coulda been career paths that have fallen by the wayside over the years.
I'm fortunate to have a family who has always encouraged me and let me know I could be whatever I wanted to be. My mom has always had a way of knowing exactly how to encourage all of her children do what they're passionate about. My brother fell in love with baseball at age 6 and she did whatever she could to make sure he could play. My sister and I have always been obsessed with music. I don't remember a lot about my childhood but I know that the first thing I wanted to be was a record producer. And mom went right to work on helping us achieve that goal. At age 3 I got my first kazoo and, as you know, that is an instrument I still hold near and dear. Six weeks later mom realized that kazoos annoyed the hell out of her and bartered with me to give mine up, which I did in exchange for a harmonica (I guess she found that slightly less annoying). When I was 6, I got a mini keyboard for Christmas that I still own to this day. It was secondhand and the sound wasn't great but I didn't care. A year later I got an electronic drum set (which my mom regrets to this day, though not as much as the kazoo) that I would play for hours every single day. A few years after that, my mom managed to get my sister and I a full sized keyboard that we fought over for the longest time. Then we got an electric guitar and an amplifier and a karaoke machine and it was all downhill from there.
I've always been a bit of a dreamer, even though it goes against everything a typical Taurean is supposed to be. I wanted to be twelve different things as a kid, sometimes all in one day. Doing something in music has always been on my radar but in middle school I decided I was gonna be a chef and go to culinary school. That went out the window when I fell in love with film after a twist of fate in high school. And all of those things are still a part of me; I still love to cook (some days) and I'm still obsessed with music. I guess the things I really love haven't changed much over the years. I've always loved to create and I still do and probably always will. Obviously I love to write but I don't know that I'm good enough to do that for a living. I like to help people but I'm not sure how to combine that with my love of creating. So I guess the general direction I wanna head in is there. I just need to figure out how to make it all come together and work out. It's a scary time but also a little liberating to be in this position. Who knew the year of 30 would present so many potentially life altering decisions?