the difference a year makes

A year ago, my life was really different. 

I lived in a studio condo that had a view of the park along with purple and blue walls.  I had just one little fur-baby.  I was starting a new job in academia.  I had a live-in boyfriend who had just announced he was moving back East, and that we were splitting up…but we had patched our lives back together…and for the time being, we were being civil.  I was flailing around. 

There were many things wrong with my life back then.  My experience with TFA had left me feeling like a shell of myself.  I felt hopeless, crushed, and lost.  I didn’t know what my life had in store for me, but I do remember thinking that I didn’t know who I was without teaching to hold on to.  I wasn’t excited about my new job.  I felt trapped.  I was scared.  My health was not the best.  I was still trying to get strong physically after a really rough year.  Finances were iffy.  I had outgrown my condo and the building I lived in.  The one person I thought I could trust had betrayed me.  I felt abandoned and triggered.  I felt like I didn’t know myself and that I had lost myself.  And it was December.

Last night, I was telling someone that I felt like this year was the second worst year of my life — save the year Mama died five years ago — for completely different reasons.  But I also noted that it was probably the happiest year of my life.  For all those really shitty, bad days, I had just as many good days.  Inexplicably good.  I found myself smiling and enjoying the little things.  I appreciated my life and the people in it.  I confronted my life.  For so long, my life was some version of in-between.  I was never too upset, but I was never happy either.  This year, I was full-blown me.  And, somewhere along the way, I healed.  Somewhere along the way, I stopped running from myself and started being kinda fearless.

Despite it being a really terrible year in so many ways, I am so deeply grateful for it because I found myself again.  I indulged my passions, and I let my life happen as it needed to.  I was afraid, but I admitted my fear.  I finally feel like I’m on the right path…like I know the path and I’m willing to do what it takes. 

Somewhere along the way, I bumped into someone.  I didn’t expect things to happen the way they did.  He jokes that we sort of backed into one another.  We were both Hell-bent on learning from our mistakes and being alone.  We reached out to one another because of uncanny similarities when it came to love, and mostly, we just supported one another in figuring crap out.  Somewhere along the way, it morphed into something else.  I’ll admit, I freaked out a few times.  I was really, really cautious.  My last relationship really brought up a lot of stuff for me, and I was determined not to repeat mistakes.

The thing about this person is that he’s always been my friend, and I’ve no doubt he’ll always be that person for me.  He genuinely cares about me and wants the best for me — no matter what that means.  He’s been incredibly kind and patient when he probably should have run away screaming.  He inspires me in so many ways.  He makes me laugh.  More than anything, he brings out the little kid in me.  He seeks to understand me, not control me, and he never makes me wonder/worry/guess about what’s going on with him.  It’s such a breath of fresh air and such a surprise. 

A few weeks ago, we both discovered that this wasn’t simply a friendship…despite all our claims otherwise…or our delusions about what was really happening.  Something changed, and it was a good something.  Today, we were talking, and I just said…”maybe, we should change our status on Facebook.”  It was sorta scary, but not too bad a feeling.  It felt kind of good, actually, and natural.  And it was reflective of what already was, but what hadn’t fully been publicly acknowledged.  It’s so odd…how social networking changes how we announce such things, but it made sense to just make the change.  I am not going to specifically blog about this, but I thought perhaps people should know part of why I’m happy these days.

I’m in some sort of relationship.  I’m not sure exactly what it means.  There are, of course, complications in terms of logistics and the FUTURE…but there are no complications in the fact that what we have together is simple and easy…the way I think romantic entanglements should be.  It’s not complicated.  For now, I’m not too concerned about what it means.  I’m just happy.  And I’m grabbing the joy when it finds me.

dummy’s guide to being out in public

Every time I go Downtown lately, I find myself wondering what the Hell is wrong with people?  It seems like people are getting more and more rude / stupid / oblivious to good sense.  Today, while riding the #0, I was tempted to throttle a gaggle of young girls.  (I swear, the 0 is worse than the 15 nowadays).  Anywho, this blog is inspired by all the idiots I’ve come across these past couple days.

• If you are on the bus, please do not breathe heavily in my ear.  Especially if it sounds like you are masturbating.
• If your nose is whistling something fierce, do everyone a favor and blow your damn nose.
• Unless you have paid two fares, the seat next to yours belongs to another person who paid his/her fare just like you did.  Kindly move your fat ass / massive pile of shit.
• If you are on a bus, do not bring everything you own with you.  If you are moving, rent a moving van. 
• If you are a teacher thinking of using RTD to transport children to field trip locations, consider having parents drop/pick up kids from the location instead of meeting at school.  Buses are crowded enough, and it’s just plain UNSAFE.
• If someone is walking behind you, and they are walking faster than you, DO NOT hog the entire sidewalk with your meandering ass.  Move to the side and let people pass.  Same goes for stupid drivers who drive slow in the passing lane. 
• If you are on the germ bus, do NOT stand right in front of the doors if the bus is mostly empty. 
• If you are on the germ bus, do NOT stand in front of seats so no one can sit down.  Sit the Hell down or move.
• If you are able-bodied/not carrying crap, let people with children, full arms, and/or age/disability sit down on buses.  Karma will kick your ass one day.
• Don’t butt ahead of me in line.
• Don’t stand so close to me that you’re touching me while we’re standing in line.
• Don’t look over my shoulder while standing so close to me that you’re touching me while I’m checking out.
• When my order is called, don’t lie and pretend your name is Alma so you’ll get my food instead of yours because my food looks better than yours.
• If you are a smoker, don’t throw your lit butts off your balcony or out of your car window while driving.  You could hurt someone.
• If you are on a bus, don’t open the window to throw your bag of trash out instead of throwing it when you get off the bus or putting it in the trash bag at the front of the bus.
• Don’t put your dirty-ass feet on chairs that aren’t yours.
• Cover your mouth/nose when you cough or sneeze.
• Don’t talk to me about nonsensical shit just because I’m not reading/listening to music.
• Don’t sing at the top of your lungs while listening to music.  You are not a good singer.  Small dogs in Canada are crying.
• You are not funny.  Stop pretending to be our bus’ entertainment.
• If you call someone and they return your call, call them back.
• Say please, thank you, and goodbye…especially when someone is nice to you.
• If someone smiles at you, smile back.
• Be nice to children.
• If you are on a bus, don’t smell like you shit your pants.
• If you were on a full bus and then the bus empties, move to an empty seat instead of forcing the person next to you to endure cramped legs.
• If you are paying to get on the bus, and everyone else in line has a pass, let them get on first.  It speeds up boarding.
• Don’t get on a bus unless you know where the Hell you’re going.
• Don’t get on a bus to grab a schedule.  There’s a thing called the Internet…or RTD information. 
• Don’t puke on the bus.  If you have to, get off the bus and puke there.
• Don’t get on the bus and ask people for change for the bus fare.  You are not 10 years old.  Plan ahead.
• If you are on the bus, do not scream as a form of communication…unless someone is groping you.  Regular conversations should not be heard throughout the bus, drowning out the driver announcing stops. 
• If people are holding their heads, you’re too loud.
• If people look at you more than once, it means you should STFU.
• If you are cursing or saying racial slurs, STFU. 
• If you are a young woman, do not complain about men degrading you and then refer to other women as whores, bitches, and cuntbags.
• Do not tell me about your welfare check, food stamps, your period, orgasms, etc, while on an RTD bus.
• If you don’t have anything to do downtown, get the Hell out of downtown. 
• If you’ve tried to panhandle me twice in two weeks, and I told you I don’t carry cash, don’t try to guilt me into giving you the soda I have in my hand.
• Don’t assume you know diddlyshit about who I am and why I’m not giving you cash.
• Don’t touch me if I haven’t invited you to touch me.
• Don’t look me up and down just because I have breasts.
• My ass was not made for your grimy hands to touch.

Stupid, trifling people.

the truth about me and December

I am trying to be light, because heavy things don’t fly.–Amy Segreti

 The melancholy has started.  Early, this year, but it always seems to land on me.  December is what brings it.  It’s heavy and dark.  I want to shake it off, but I cannot.  It’s my shadow, attached to my feet, part of me and yet apart.  I can’t lose it.  It’s part of who I am.

Or is it?

Sometimes, I don’t know.  Like now.  I don’t really want to know, though, so I guess it’s okay.  All I do know is that I miss them, every single one of them, and I am tired of trying to be okay.  I am tired of all this in-between.  I am tired of this survival instinct.  I just want to melt away into something more than me and say it all happened for a reason, but most of the time there isn’t really one you can see.  Because you’re in it, and reasons only present themselves in the distance and benefit of wisdom.  So, where do we go from here?

###

There are things in my life that just piss me off, but only because I am so sad…only because I’ve tried so hard to be this or that and have failed so many times…so completely.  This makes my inner control freak pump her fist in the air and yell, “No fair.”  Because it Goddamn isn’t fucking fair.  But, then, what is?  And who said you were special?  This is life.  This is you, in the ruins of you.  Suck it up and deal.  Or go.  Those are the options.  Stop stewing and just live your life.  Whatever that means today.

That’s what I tell myself most days.  Because I believe it.  But there are days like Saturday when I just get so tired of all of it, and I decide to hole up in my bed and sleep.  I want to cry, but I don’t because I’m not entirely good at the crying thing — despite all the practice these five years has given me.  And I’m not so good at the sleeping thing either, but there isn’t a rabbit hole ready and waiting.  So, this will do.

I woke up just after 1:30 am, still sore from kneeling for hours with children, in heels.  It feels like I did 12 million squats, with weights on my thighs.  I keep telling myself this is a good thing because my thighs are still too large.  Some days, I wish I had long, skinny legs like the girls who easily fit into cigarette pants.  I look down at my bruised, scarred, stubby, Eastern European stock legs and feel my age.  “You’re too old for this shit.”  I am.  I know this.  Why do I still beat myself up instead of doing something more productive?

The truth is I am often still six years old.  That’s the point in my life when my brain was finally schooled in the life isn’t fair thing…and I had to believe them.  I couldn’t keep on denying all the lessons I had up until then.  “Okay, world.  I get it now.  Can you please stop hurtling lessons at me?”

And yet, this same lesson keeps coming.  Probably because, despite everything, I really want things to be fair and balanced.  I’ll move Heaven and Earth to believe in the delusion that — possibly…somehow…maybe…one day — it will be.  And I will have the life I want to have and not this difficult one that I seem to need.

But, then, I was always bull-headed.  That’s what Mama used to say.

###

December makes me heavy, but the truth is that I’m heavy all the time.  People who know me call me effervescent and effusive and enthusiastic and exuberant.  All kinds of “e” words.  But, really, sometimes I think, it’s just a grand spectacle designed to make you forget that I am sad and angry and every other shitty word on this planet.  And I am sick of it.  My whole life, I’ve tried to fly.  My name is my birthright for it.  AIM.  I’m supposed to straddle the stars and circle the moon.  I’m supposed to be a force to be reckoned with.  I’m supposed to change everything.  Because I am everything.

Aren’t I?

I’ve always put so much pressure on myself.  I had to, to get by.  The things other people have, I just don’t.  I can’t be ordinary.  I have to blow everyone else out of the water.  This is what I do, and I’m good at it.  Put me up against other people, and I win.  I will make you love me, even if you don’t know why you do.  And then, I’ll break your heart because I’m his daughter.  It’s what we’re born to do.

I want to stomp all over everything and yell, “Fuck you.”  But I don’t because that’s not what nice girls do, and I was raised to say “please” and “thank you.”  And that’s what I do, too.

I’m so angry, and I don’t know how not to be.  And I don’t know why some stupid month can bring this into my throat.  I don’t know why this keeps happening, but I want it to stop even though I know it needs to stay for me to stay the way I was just a day ago.  But maybe all of that was just a delusion, me putting one foot in front of the other and setting the blinders to oblivion so I wouldn’t be so scared.

I hate you, December.  I really, really do.

november’s end

The past few days have been pretty bizarre. 

My Thanksgiving was quiet, as it usually is these days.  I was invited to go out for dinner and a movie by my motherless daughters group, but I decided against it due to being low on funds and wanting to cook.  I dunno.  There’s something that feels a bit soulless about paying a person to cook your Thanksgiving dinner.  And I’ve never been one to enjoy braving the movie theatre crowds on holiday weekends.  So, I stayed in.  I had planned on making some chili, some stuffing, and some pumpkin pie.  But the day came, and I wasn’t feeling all too healthy, so I just did the stuffing/pie.  The pie was tasty, but not firm enough.  The stuffing was okay, but not the normal gilded lily version.  It was enough for just me.

The real excitement came just before I started cooking.  Some weird man with a heavy Indian accent called me and basically impersonated an FBI agent/police officer so I’d give him money.  Um…yea.  On Thanksgiving.  I googled the phone number and found a consumer protection forum.  Basically, this idiot is doing this a lot lately.  The scary part was that he had sensitive information about me.  I can only guess one of my bank accounts was somehow compromised.  So, I went about the business of filing complaints/reports with the Do Not Call registry, the FBI, my local police department, and the FTC.  A bit of a bizarre Thanksgiving, eh?  The funniest part is that I’m totally not the girl to hit up for money.  You can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip, as Mama would say.

As evidence of my brokehood, instead of relaxing and/or shopping yesterday, I spent my Black Friday in a hot shopping mall — dressed up as an elf.  In heels.  Giving away candy.  Now, I knew what to expect.  I used to work in qualitative research, and a friend of mine got me hooked up into different freelance opportunities.  It pays really well for what you get to do, and it’s usually a good — albeit grueling — experience.  There are people who do this as their full-time jobs, but most of us have “real” jobs and do it just occasionally for extra money.  It involves hours of standing/crouching, lugging supplies all over creation, wearing ridiculous costumes, eating weird food for your very short breaks, approaching people, non-stop talking, inclement weather (without the benefit of a coat), etc. 

Promo peeps are tons of fun.  Most are veterans at this stuff and have well-developed senses of humor.  You have to, or you’d cry an hour in.  Most of us have donned crazy attire and have done strange things to promote brand xyz.  I once dressed as a roll of toliet paper on a stage at a major festival in Denver.  When it was slow, I’d dance to the music on the stage next door.  I must’ve been a sight.  That was my last promo gig, and I retired until recently when I got an email asking for help.  Okay…I’ll bite. 

This particular gig was pretty low key.  I didn’t have to memorize lines or do anything spectacular.  It was surreal walking around town in an elf costume.  I got hit on in a major way all day.  Ha.  The biggest pain in the ass was wearing the high heels they asked me to wear.  I was basically handing out free samples and coupons to people at a mall.  It was pretty busy, but not as busy as some of the things I’ve done.  And I wasn’t alone, which helps. 

It’s kinda funny how people react to you when you’re doing this job.  Some people are really friendly and chatty and just overjoyed to be getting something for nothing.  Others are surprised it’s free or look at you in disbelief before gingerly taking one sample.  Then, when you tell them to take a handful, they are shocked by your generosity.  Others are weird and proud about it and won’t take any. 

Children are the salvation of such gigs.  In this case, I was handing out candy, and little children were in love with me.  I got so many hugs and so many thank yous.  I did a lot of crouching down to talk to the kids and to help them decide which candy they wanted.  I felt a bit like Willy Wonka.  Later, when I was on the bus going home, a little girl recognized me and yelled, “It’s the Candy Lady!”  It reminded me a lot of teaching, and it was funny because my partner in crime said, “You should be a teacher.”  I just looked at her and said, “Been there, done that.”

This was the first Black Friday I’ve spent in a mall in several years.  Even when I liked Christmas, I would avoid such things.  I sincerely hate crowds and consumerism.  Being posted where we were, we got to see a lot of greed in action.  So many shoplifters (all young girls 12-17) were picked up, it was ridiculous. 

I came home, incredibly sore due to all the standing…my knee was bothering me.  And the heels killed my poor feet.  I could barely move and was so tired.  Today, my thighs ache like an SOB.  I feel kind of hungover.  All in all, though, it wasn’t a bad way to make a bit of cash.

###

I woke up this morning, feeling like it was December.  I was just in a mood.  I was sore as Hell.  I was hungry for a cheeseburger.  I didn’t feel too good.  I went outside and discovered lit cigarette butts on my balcony.  I don’t smoke, so it had to have come from an apartment above me.  It could have easily caught something on fire or hit Fogg/Cleo.  I was pissed.  I decided to check the finances and see if a cheeseburger/grocery shopping would be possible…only to discover that a calculation was wrong…and I’m gonna be a bit short for January’s bills.  This got me in a mood.  Grumpy…pissed…irritated…sick and tired.  I’m so over this shit. 

I decided to get busy, but I couldn’t get motivated.  Sometimes, you have to sit in it.  Starting something when you’re angry usually doesn’t get you anywhere.  I’m just frustrated with this whole year, and now, it’s December…the shittiest month of all.  I can feel the weight of it, and it’s not even officially here.  I wish it didn’t land like some bomb every year.  But it does.  I think yesterday’s activities got to me subconsciously.  I didn’t feel it until I sat down and started to relax.  Christmas and I still have some words to say to one another.

It’s better than years past.  I’ve felt better.  I have felt happier this year than I ever have, and that’s a good thing.  I’m getting on with it, but I knew that confronting this stuff would be hard.  I suppose today is the day I’m feeling the hard bits.  I know it’s all mental, and not anything that can really get in my way unless I let it.  I also know that forcing myself to push forward won’t do anything except make it hit me harder later.  So, I’m trying to be patient with myself today and letting myself be angry.  This song kind of sums up a lot of what I’m feeling…at least in tone.

Good thing I have pie.