records & spaces

okay at the new job, i've inherited a mess. have i mentioned that? if i'm repeating myself, i'll edit the post. but for now, i'll vent.

it's a mess.

BIG MESS.

so big i cant get into it all.

but the upside is:

I get my own parking space.

LOOKOUT!

b

I (was) a dancing machine

Whenever I see people dance, it makes me sad.
A wistful sad, like "that used to be/could be/should be me."

I thought about getting back into it.

Maybe next year.

Something's brewing with me. Dunno what it is yet, but it's big.

I'll let you know when I find out.

b

That actually felt good

Telling people what you think about them is great.
b

the devil

credit cards are the devil.
I've had one, then (because I wasn't raised understanding money, the value of it, and wtf credit means) I ended up with debt. Not too much, considering what real people go through, but 200$ was a lot back then when I had a card I'd used twice, forgotten about cause I'd only used it twice & moved & didn't get the statements. 150$ of that was interest. At the time, I made less than 8$/hr & only got it b/c my dad suggested I make small purchases & pay them off rapidly to establish a line of credit. Decent suggestion, but I sucked at it.

Lesson learned. I vowed never to have a credit card again. If I can't afford it, I can't afford it. Plain & simple. MY finances are straight. My family's aren't.

And my family's are my responsibility.

So here we go again.

b

when it's not your fault, it's your responsibility

I'm pretty sure we're all clear on how I moonlight as a workaholic, holding several jobs down to support my family, blah blah blah.

It's not the work that bothers me. It's the "supporting my family" that does. I get how men of old must've felt; busting their asses & getting shit when they got home. Sure, they don't know all that'd gone on in their absence, but neither party sees it that way.

I did something... I had authorization to do it, but apparently the person who gave me the authorization feels she wouldnt have done it had she known a particular part. Well, that part didnt come up in the consultation about wether or not I should do this thing, and she never asked, so I didn't think to bring it up. So we agree for me to go ahead, and I went ahead.

This past saturday, what was left hit the fan. Now I said I'd try to take care of it today, and I rushed & made a 50 min commute in 20 (during rush hour no less) to make sure I got there with time to spare to sort it all out. It didn't get sorted out. It might tomorrow, but here, "tomorrow" is a taboo word that is likely to put you out on the street. And then where were you when I called you 17 times? Whatever executive decision I made, bite me. You weren't there, and when I called you for input, you still weren't there. You're never there.

Thing that I dont get is, you said I could, so I did. So why is this all my fault? Why am I the bad one? Why do you think I deliberately made a move when I refuse to do that very thing without your expressed permission, and without deliberation as to the consequences? We deliberated the consequences, is it my fault you didn't ask? I didn't think to bring it up, else I would have.

Oh, but you see that as deliberate, too.

Why is everything so Goddamn serious?

What happened to laughter and light?

Why are you always the victim?

Sure, this particular situation isn't funny, but when's the last time you laughed? Hell, when's the last time I laughed?

I'm sorry you think I'm ruining your life, or my life, or our life.

Oh well.

I'd move out, but 1. I dont think I could afford it, and 2. Even if I could afford it, I'd still feel obligated to share my money with you and then #1 again.

It's either me or you. I'm not quite there yet, but I'm close.

Very close.

b

completely forgot!

monday, day one: not much to mention, no kids present
tuesday, holiday: holiday, therefore nothing to mention
wednesday, personal day: personal day therefore nothing to mention
thursday, technical day two: two bloody noses, a pencil through a hand and a bumped head
friday, technical day three: one sprained ankle, disintegrated glasses and irate parents.

This wednesday: tater tots
This friday: rib sandwich.

Can't wait.

In other news, it's really cute to see grown men blush when they speak to you. It was really touching. I tried not to go for pity, but whatever. Really pulled at my heartstrings, in a milo & otis kind of way. Awwww.

b

Do not read this entry because I guarantee you will not understand it.

edited to add disclaimer: If you read this, please don't respond to it. There is no place else for me to put this, so I wrote it here. Like the title says, you will not understand it. This is not written for you. This is written for me.

I don't know how to love you anymore.
All I've wanted was for you to love me
and I realize now, that that day will never come.
you will never look at me and say you're proud of me
or that you love me
because you are not capable of saying those words.

Whatever it is you think I'm going through,
I'm going through way more than what I let on.
And I let on alot.
I let on alot because those are the things I *can* talk about.
They're not important. I know that they're not important,
but those are the elements I can control, that I can think about, and hash out out loud until I find a way to bend myself around & make it work.
for once, in my life,
I would like for someone to stop telling me to man up
& that I'm overreacting because everything is going to be okay.
I, for once, would like to stop being patronized for going crazy over
"the little stuff"
I KNOW that there are people in MUCH worse situations than I am.
I pray that those people have a better support system than I found in you.
For ONCE, stop acting like I'm petty and just acknowledge that I'm going through something. I am not other people. Don't judge me that way.

That is all I want. I KNOW that I'll adapt to whatever life throws at me. I've been fucking adapting since I was born, and I'M FUCKING TIRED OF IT.

All I want is for someone to look at me and NOT tell me I'm strong and I'll get through it. To NOT see a pity case. To NOT see a looney girl who doesn't know a good thing or can't appreciate one.

You don't have to save me. Not that you tried. I just need an ear to talk out loud to, to try to focus on one aspect of life and work it out. Your version of a pep talk sucks. Do you read me? I AM TIRED OF BEING THE STRONG ONE.

I just want someone to be able to acknowledge whatever it is I say I'm going through. Because no one yet has noticed that the bullshit I give on the surface has nothing to do with what I'm really scared of. I ramble because I can't put into words the things that actually bother me. I haven't studied the language yet that conjugates the images that my mind races through. I'm trapped in my throbbing head with headaches that don't go away and face people that don't get that I'm in pain, or that I haven't felt my arm in two weeks, and that I'm scared to death, and that I have no idea what is going to happen to me and I'm in a situation I have no control over and I'm terrified that everything is going wrong, and that at the end of every day, I wonder if I've just made the biggest mistake of my life. It's everything and nothing all at once; it's everyone and no one. Only one other time in my LIFE have I felt so helpless. I went through that time alone, and it looks like I've got to go through this alone as well.

But you don't care. So long as I sit there and do what you feel I'm supposed to, and not get on your nerves, or interfere, you're happy. That's not love. Yet you don't share with me what you feel I ought to know, and then we do our dance again, with me tripping up mines I didn't know existed, spending energy figuring out ways to make it up to you and get you to love me again.

I loved you the best I could. I tried, and today you made it clear that I will never and can never make you happy. So, I'll make it easy for you. I will never again mention anything that bothers me, because I'm just going to "be strong" and get over it anyway. No point mentioning it to anyone. I cannot love you anymore, because there isn't room. You hurt me just by looking at me. I was better when I walled myself up. But I made the mistake of opening up to you. Don't worry, my mistake. it won't happen again.

I don't love you anymore. I feel nothing now. It's a dull pain, like the one in my head. Don't worry, I'll still do my duty towards you, whatever that may be. I'll make sure you're okay, thought of, looked after, fed. But there's no love in it.

My love died. The tears that I'm shedding now are the last you'll never see.
I tried to make you happy.
I failed.
But you already predicted that, didn't you.

I'd say it hurts to say goodbye to you, but you can't feel pain when you're dead inside.

I loved you. I really did. But I give up. And in the end, it feels like I'm more like you than I want to admit. And that scares me more. Not that I'll ever tell you about it.

Goodbye.

b

You've been Slammed

When I think of "Slam Poetry," I think of emcees battling, rhythms and rhymes spat out with precision; Meters and metaphors capturing my attention, transporting me to a world or idea or perspective heretofore unrealized.

That said, what was that?

When I'm around good poetry, it inspires me. I wasn't really inspired, except by two people. Which I guess is good, but I mean... I dunno, maybe it was me. the slams I've heard are by these phenomenal folks who twist words and meter in ways I didn't even know you could. They leave me thinking, "there's no way I'll ever do that" and then run home to try before the spirit leaves me.

Or maybe my emotional well is dry. Maybe the part of my soul I'm supposed to tap into to get the words is so parched that my pen writes in the sand of my emotions and my tears wash the thoughts away.

Maybe one day they'll make a drug that allows me to sift my thoughts and focus on one clear thought until it's down and out.

Maybe I'll go back and be blown away.

Maybe.

b

spoken like a true government employee

The following is a snippet of a conversation I had with a friend during business hours several weeks ago:

me: Well, I'll let you go & get back to work.

friend: I'm playing a game on the computer right now.

*Sigh*

Spoken like a true Government Employee.

come back

Tonight was opening night for TCP's The Last Five Years. I won't review the show, because I'm nice. I *will* say that the two look very nice together. The "casting" was... what it was. I will also say that Eva is the ideal musical theater girl. She's tall, she's curvy and she's got good looks and a voice to carry. I'd say she's a director's dream, but this show didn't have a director and that would get in to all the stuff I said I wouldn't talk about, so let's move on to other theatrical stuff...

Everyone who knows me & saw me (as an audience member) rallied to get mne back on the stage. One such person felt it her life's mission to convince me to return. Her only foible was this gem:

"You should do a show with TCP! [person's name] was telling us about how she needs people..."

Oh, really. Maybe she should have thought of that before she < edited >.

Anyways, I'm too bitter to come back. If and when I do return, I'm not coming here. At least, not to perform. I'll direct plays here, but I won't perform, and if I do somehow perform, SHE will NOT be the DIRECTOR. Actually, either way you look at it, she won't be the director, so the statement stands.

I was talking to an old theater friend (who produced this show) and I confessed that I think I'm not a nice person. Somewhere, I lost "nice." How, I'm a washed up, bitter old hag who can't even fake a "good show!" when what I really want to say is "what the fuck was that train wreck?" She shares my sentiments and we've both decided that we're going to Hell. I told her we'd be roomies and I'd keep her place warm for her. Get it? I crack me up. There's this thing that the female character does that REALLY REALLY REALLY annoys me to no end, and I shared it with Producer last Tuesday, and tonight when I saw her, I asked if anyone told her and she said "nope" (which is weird, why would you want that onstage? but if she's not telling... and I'm waaay past trying to help fix a show. Part of me is like "but it's a really simple thing to do that would make the show SO much better!" and the other part is like "leave it alone. it's her show, let her go down with it. that's how she wants it, let it be.") and after the show, Producer took a tray & started calling my name, making the movement. Now to anyone else, it would look like she was just being coy, but I knew better.

I love that woman.

My dad was right. I'm going to end up old, bitter and alone, having alienated everyone I love. Only thing is about alienation, I can't be friends with people these days, cause once they try something more, and you're not with it, then they stop talking to you. It's almost as if (she to) [<- sorry, me-zine reference].

Start over.

It's almost as if I'm destined to be alone. People keep leaving me to myself, most likely because they think I'm too busy & don't want to bother me. I'll say what I said back in HS: Let me make that decision. Let me be the one to say "no thanks, I'm busy, but thanks for letting me know you were thinking of me." DO NOT make that decision for me.

Others leave me alone 'cause they think I'm a bitch. In that case, I am, stay away.

I used to be happy. I used to be ridiculously happy. I used to wake up happy, and look at the clouds and see my future. I used to hug strangers and love the world.

Then life happened.

As far as always being alone, I get that it's a two way street. When you don't call, they stop calling. And I don't want to be a "whatever happened to..." I'm a "so I was out with banafsheh and OMG that girl is crazy. It took us three hours to get her down from the dance cage."

In that vein, I've started calling my friends.

I call this, "maintenance."

So at least two and I have reconnected, the third I have the intention of calling, but haven't yet. Dunno why. Prolly cause he's not single and I dont want to give her the impression I'm moving in on her man. Maybe I'll call him tomorrow and invite him to the dc slam event if they're available. That way she can come & then I'm not a threat. I hope a group comes, it would suck if it were just me and Kenny... we can have fun, but it stalls out without having something else there to perk it up.

So, back to reconnecting, it's crazy. It's crazy what happens when a person moves away. I had this great cleansing conversation that could have broken my heart a teeny bit, when my friend confessed that he had to leave for us to become better friends. it was funny at one point, when he said "it was like I was saying 'Hello! I'm right here! Hello!' and you were like 'That's nice, but anyway.'" But the time wasn't right and I don't think it will ever be. I think he wanted me to admit something that wasn't true, but we cleared that up, and basically left the conversation with the knowledge that we will always be there for each other, as friends. I will always love him as a friend, and I think he gets that. It was such a GOOD conversation, and I havent had one of those in a long time. We talked about THEATER. He picked my brain, vented about his day, told me about his work, and God, for a minute I felt alive again. I felt like I was there, in group classes, like I was in rehearsal, like I was with him in the room as the instructor's reaming one of the classmates. Like I had done the research for the scene, read the play and ripped it apart into beats and motivations with action verbs that carry me through to the next beat. Like I was diving within myself, looking under the rocks my emotions had becme to see what things were festering in the dark I had provided them with, bringing them up and saying "This Is Me."

God, it felt very good.

I almost miss it.

So we promised we're going to make an effort to talk every day. I don't even talk to my mom every day, so we'll see how long that lasts, and I amended it right after we said it, but still. I'm going to try. He's the only person who understands how my brain works. Wow... did I write that? I'm not sure how true that is, but I definetly know I'm living vicariously through him at the moment. I know that last night was the most fun I'd had in a long time. Theatrically, yeah, I guess... he's the only person I can talk to on an actor level who is going to challenge me. Kenny's a tech. Jevan's a tech. Jasmine's a tech/actor, and it's still not the same. He and I speak the same language. I think my excitement is just really nostalgic; it's been years since I've spoken to anyone in the business about the business, about the process of the business. I felt like when I return to the stage, that I'll be one of those people who theater will have passed by, and talking to him, I know I've still got it.

I think I'm ready. Not ready to stand on stage, but ready to watch some shows again. Current theatrical goal: to see The Lion King, Wicked and Avenue Q. The other shows can wait. I can't anymore.

b

my sister, the meter maid

Even though she says stuff that hurts or annoys me, she's still my sister.
Plus, I realized that we're kind of on this funky see-saw, when one of us is low, the other is high. We're constantly pulling each other out of a funk & reminding each other how beautiful we are. Even if she is a little harsher than I:

"You must not know about me. I can have another you by tomorrow."

Damn.
But so true. We're so strong, and so... Gosh darn wonderful!

b

The best thing ever

Thanks to everyone who wished me well today. I passed the test.
Special kudos and points to Kenny for buying me a celebratory dinner, and then for saying it wasn't a celebratory dinner. That was definetly cool.

Otherwise, thanks everyone! Thanks to everyone who wasn't even scared and got pissed at me for being scared. I appreciate the faith you all have in me.

And when that faith manifests itself in meals, well, that's good, too.

b

I keep saying I'm over it but I'm not

I keep saying I'm over it, but I'm not.
I'm over it in the "it doesn't make me angry anymore" way but not in the "I'm so over it doesn't even cross my mind" way.

Why can we not be friends again? It just sucks that I lost a friend over bullshit, because he chose to interpret things personally when he had no business doing that (since the stuff he was interpreting wasn't even ABOUT him), then he made decisions based on the stuff that he fabricated and then got emotional over stuff that had no foundation.

It bothers me that I want to reach out & get my friend back, but I can't for fear of 6 months worth of rage and/or bitterness coming back. Not really fear, I'm not scared of it, I just don't want to deal with the bull aspect of it.

Why did I pick him over you? Because I saw him that way and didn't see you that way.
Why that became an intense emotional battle for months I will never know. Everyone told me to remove the source of the frustration and I didn't follow their advice for two reasons:
1. The situation was sticky enough without me making it worse by saying "oh yeah? well I don't need you as much as you thought I did!" MAYBE it would have taken a bit of the wind out of his sails, but for some reason I can't see it doing any long term good.
2. I (stupidly) believed that it would clear up. Blow over. I kept hoping it was a phase and that ultimately he'd regain his senses. But it just got worse and worse and more and more crippling.

Now, we don't talk at all. Funny thing is, he spent all this energy and then said "well, it's your turn" in a "i've tried very hard to keep this friendship afloat. it's your responsibility to come to me now." That would be fine, if it was true, when I'd spent all the same months asking "why can't we go back to being friends?"

So now, I have no idea where things stand. And that really really saddens me because he was a really good friend up until things got creepy. In fact, he was the one friend I could count on to support me no matter what, who I supported back no matter what.

Why do friendships have to die when love/amor/feelings/romantic intention isn't reciprocated? Why can't I just have my friend back?

Oh, by the way, this one is the FIRST one that actually IS about you.

b

Listen up suckas...

Yeah!
What he said!
That goes for me, too!

b

Scary

Ever have someone like you... where they pop up randomly & have a one sided convo with you and then say dumb stuff like "have a good weekend; don't do anything I would do," which wouldn't be so dumb if it wasn't followed with ten variations of the theme? Or just happen to find them after work in a secluded area, with no one else around, and they've changed clothes and now are in a car and can overtake you very quickly?

Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I'm sure that's it, but... I can't shake this feeling.

Ever have that?

b

The Return of PPM

Wow.
I was at PetSmart today, minding my business, and my cell rang. PPM, who I haven't spoken to in months, decided to call. He must have broken it off with whoever he was seeing. You know? Maybe that's mean of me to write, but I feel like when he's got a dry spell, he messes with me for laughs. Then he had the nerve to say, "why are you acting like you're surprised to hear from me." Maybe because I am. "Why are you acting like I only call when I want something?" Maybe because you do.

I'm tired. Tired of dancing your dance. You had your chance. You blew it. You don't get another one. Happy for you, though. Happy that you bought your house, happy we got caught up, happy I had a small hand in getting you what you wanted at the office. But if you're calling me to see if anything has changed on my end, no. It hasn't. That's why although I thought of you when I drove past your house, I didn't call. That's why you don't come to mind that often, and why people at work have stopped giving me hell about you.

Or was that because you'd found someone else? Now that didn't work and you remember me?

Funny thing about that... I'm not free anymore. I'm through being the backup. Being your headcase to toy with wasn't as much fun as you may think.

I'm much stronger now. If I don't dress up every day, or press my hair, or make sure everything is in it's proper place, it's because the *outside* is not important to me. I'm too busy with other stuff to worry about hemlines and fabrics and this season's fashions. Yes, I pull my hair back, into the same uptight librarian bun as always. It's simple. It's practical, it doesnt get in the way, and it doesn't need styling, which affords me the time for other endeavors.

Sorry if that means to you that I'm not taking the time out to take care of myself. I'm too busy taking care of my future.

And I have come a long way, from what I was before, how I used to be with my looks, Thinking I was ugly and hiding alot from the world. Thing is, I'm hot. I'm so hot, I rock the hell out of the librarian bun. In fact, I'm bringing buns back.

And if you don't get that, then you don't really have a place in my life, do you?

Thanks for taking the time out, friend, to check up on lil ole me.

I'll be just fine. Scratch that. I AM fine, I'll *be* okay.

And if you wanted me, you're going to have to work a hell of alot harder than that to get me. So don't feel like you're doing me any favors by calling me.

This probably comes across a lot meaner than I intended, but I'm not changing any of it. It is what it is. I'm just tired. I don't get people who want to be friends with the intention of banging you. Just be friends. Go out. But we were never friends, were we? We were just two insanely attractive people who couldn't sort out the tension.

Isn't it a relief to know that it's all been sorted out? By hereby removing myself from the equation, we should never need to speak tensely again.

Love,

me

spot on

Your Career Personality: Capable, Friendly, and Energetic

Your Ideal Careers: Actor Advertising Executive Artist Counselor Entrepreneur Musician Politician Psychologist Teacher Television Reporter

The Quick and Dirty Career Test

You've heard of Soho? Noho? Well, this was MePa...

You Belong in Soho

Although you may not be a professional artist, you do dabble in one form of art or another. And you indie culture of all kinds - from little botiques to art house films.

Where Should Your Inner New Yorker Live?

sure, why not.

Your Ideal Relationship is Serious Dating

You're not ready to go walking down the aisle. But you may be ready in a couple of years. You prefer to date one on one, with a commitment. And while chemistry is important, so is compatibility.

What's Your Ideal Relationship?

see? i *am* both

You are 67% Taurus

How Taurus Are You?

You are 80% Gemini

How Gemini Are You?