I was standing at my stove making hot chocolate, because I wanted to get warmed up. I’m always cold anymore. It’s as if something is missing from inside of me. There was something inside of me that kept me warm but whatever it was left and now I’m cold all the time. It’s kind of creepy how cold I am. I’m cold to the touch. I mean I’m icy cold. I’ve thought about going to the doctor about this, because I’m not sure if it’s normal to be as cold as a corpse or an inanimate object. I’m not sure.
Well, I was standing at my stove making hot chocolate and I was thinking about how I wished I had Mr. French. Mr. French from the show Family Affair. He made hot chocolate for Buffy and Jody when they were stranded in a blizzard. Mr. French made their hot chocolate with so much love. I mean it was unlike any hot chocolate I could ever imagine getting made for me. He took a chocolate bar from Buffy and melted it with snow water over the stove in the cabin. He kept them from starving. It was delicious too. I just knew it from the looks on their faces. That hot chocolate went right to their bones and it warmed them up. I could tell it did, because I felt the warmth. Mr. French, what a man.
I’m looking down at my hot chocolate cooking and I’m stirring and stirring, because I want my hot chocolate made with love. I keep thinking of Mr. French though, and I know damn well that my hot chocolate won’t measure up to his. My Nestles Quick won’t be as rich and delicious as some made with a real chocolate bar and melted snow. It never was. I usually put too much powder in and it was hideous to drink or else I made it too weak and it was nothing more than warm milk. Mr. French served Buffy and Jody their hot chocolate right away, as soon as it was done. I really envied that. How I hated getting my hot chocolate when it was 5 minutes past perfection and I’d have to skim the skin off the top to expose the milk. I’ll bet Mr. French never had hot chocolate milk with skin.
I pour my hot chocolate in my cup and drink it immediately, because I’m trying to warm my bones. It warms my stomach, but my bones remain cold. I have layers of clothing on and still I cannot get warm. I think about my bones and I remember when Buffy broke her leg playing stick ball. She hid it from Uncle Bill, Mr. French, everyone! I really couldn’t imagine hiding something like a broken leg. I mean how could you? I broke my arm once and I screamed bloody murder. Everyone thought I was dying. I was taken away on a stretcher. I actually went into shock. I got more attention that day than I’ve gotten in my entire life combined.
Yes, kids used to hide things. They were always afraid of getting into trouble. Kids today don’t hide anything. If someone tries to abduct them; they tell a grown up right away. It doesn’t matter if they got the license number of the car or not. The parents call the police and it gets announced on TV and everyone is concerned, because something bad almost happened. When I was growing up, we hid things. I couldn’t tell how many times someone tried to get me into their car. I only told my Mom about one time. The guy showed himself in more ways than one. I’ll never forget it. He was in a light yellow Camaro, too new for our neighborhood. He looked just like Sonny Bono. I’ll never forget his face. He peeled out of the street, as I ran to tell my mom, who was cutting the lawn. I’ll never forget her reaction, how she shoved that mower with all her force out of her way. Then I got yelled at for not getting the license number of his car. I got yelled at! She said she couldn’t call the police because we didn’t have a license number. Forget the fact I knew the make, model, color, and the description of the man. I never told her about anything that happened to me after that day.
Today, it doesn’t matter if you know the license number and kids don’t have to hide things from adults because it will get them into trouble. Kids have been emancipated in a way. I don’t like that I grew up thinking Sonny Bono was a pervert in a light yellow Camaro. I always thought about how it would affect Cher if I had to tell.
I thought about Mr. French as I finished my hot chocolate. If Sonny Bono had tried to abduct Buffy; he would have protected her. Mr. French would have called the police and all hell would have broken loose because it would’ve been on the news and Cher would’ve found out and she’d have been humiliated.
I wash the pan out that I made my hot chocolate in and I think about Mr. French. I think of his dark perfect suit he always wore. I never knew anyone who looked like him. I know he didn’t smell like Juicy Fruit gum. I hated that gum. I can smell it a mile away, no kidding. There was an old man who lived down the street from me and his name was Shorty. He always wore the same outfit everyday; summer or winter: work pants, suspenders, plaid flannel shirt, and one dark brown glove; that hid a disfigurement left to my imagination. I heard it was some kind of miner’s disease, but I think he was hiding a mangled hand. I imagined it was caught in some kind of machine and decided there had to be fingers missing or partial fingers. He kept about 5 days worth of whiskers on his face but never a beard. The whiskers were sharp and dread always overcame me when he came close wanting a kiss or at the very least wanting me to sit on his lap; a big hug and he’d rub his sharp face across my soft cheek.
I knew when Shorty was coming around. Always. He reeked of Juicy Fruit gum. He must have carried twenty or more packs of gum to give off that kind of odor. Shorty always had a song or a riddle to tell and he’d come to my side door and knock just to tell it or sing it to me. I began to dart like lightning to hide in my closet when I saw he was coming to the door so I couldn’t be found. I didn’t want to hear his riddles or walk with him to the store, as he gathered the neighborhood kids like the Pied Piper. Only Shorty didn’t have a piccolo that made the kids follow; he had Juicy Fruit gum.
I sat on my sofa because I had nothing better to do and I was thinking of what it would be like to have all these people together with me? What if I had them over for a dinner party or something? I thought about the seating arrangement first. I would want Mr. French to sit by me of course. I would sit Buffy beside Shorty. Sonny could sit on the end, not too close to anyone. Mr. French could make his delicious hot chocolate for all of us. Buffy would turn hers down because she doesn’t drink milk. She’d nibble on some cookies instead. I could have a really meaningful conversation with Mr. French and he could tell me stories that have a moral and in the end it would change my life.
Sonny would interrupt the conversation though. He’d be upset. He would go on and on about the incident I mentioned and want me to explain to everyone that it wasn’t actually him; it was only someone who looked like him. He’d threaten slander and quote all kinds of legal jargon. He used to be a member of congress, so he’d know how to be manipulative. I wouldn’t budge though. I’d tell him to just be quiet, because in my mind; it was him in the yellow Camaro. I’d tell him how I never watched his TV show after that incident because I could never stand to look at his face again. It was cancelled soon afterwards. I wished that I had never invited him to my dinner party. He would never apologize like I had imagined he would. He would just stay a creep in my mind.
I glanced over at Shorty. He was singing, “She’ll Be Comin’ Round the Mountain” to Buffy and playing the game “I Took Your Nose” I couldn’t help feeling sorry for them both. Shorty would try to get my attention though, “Want some gum?’
I’d turn away. I decided it was probably a mistake to invite Shorty. He knew where I lived now and would want to visit.
The hot chocolate was gone now and Mr. French was looking like he wanted to leave. He asked me a question though; he said it had been bothering him all evening. He asked why I invited the people who I clearly didn’t like? I didn’t know the answer to his question; except that I wanted a new memory of these people. I wanted the last memory I had of these people to go away.
“I’m just tired of them haunting me, I guess.” I said.
He looked at me with pity in his eyes.
Mr. French put on his overcoat and was making his way to the door to leave. He turned and asked me if the hot chocolate had warmed my bones? I told him a little. “What would that be like?” I asked. “To be adored so much that someone would protect you from any harm?” It was too late though; Mr. French had already gone.
Even though I was trying to set up a positive attitude to live the rest of my life by, things aren’t working out. I was looking into going back to school for a short time to learn a trade-something with a more steady income, something I thought I’d be good at, but then I just started getting a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Which part am I going to fail? Will it be a huge mistake? Am I giving up the other part of me? I tried to stop thinking about it for a while…I’m overwhelming myself thinking about it for too long.
Feeling so good 2 days ago I ordered some Chanel sunglasses from a website I hadn’t dealt with before. Now it appears they are trying to bilk me out of my money and no sunglasses. But I’m not stupid…I know how to initiate charge-back proceedings with the bank and that will only hurt his business as far as accepting credit cards. Merchant charge-backs aren’t taken lightly by credit card companies. The $300 dollars I thought I was saving on top of the $300 I already paid, I would now gladly pay to not have to deal with this load of crap. UPDATE!! 3 emails later, of this guy trying to talk me out of cancelling the sale because he doesn’t have the sunglasses and wants me to wait 3 weeks to backorder…he refunded my money! Even though my anxiety level was soaring, I kept it professional and never insulted him. Surprisingly he refunded every penny. I thought he would hold back a restocking fee of $60 even though there wasn’t anything to restock, he was selling items he didn’t actually have. Next time I’ll just make a trip into the Chanel Boutique and bite the bullet. This could have easily turned out differently, no money, no sunglasses, leading me to crappy sunglasses forever. The thing is…I wear my sunglasses to death. I want a pair I love.
Then yesterday, I got notified I have a problem with my mammogram and I must have more films taken. That really makes my stomach churn. I don’t have a problem getting the mammograms, I do have a problem with the worry and anxiety they put you through, like telling me there’s something there, so they need to look closer and then you have to wait 2 weeks for an appointment. Usually I brush these things off (illness) and try not to give them power over me. I just can’t help but worry my long depression has contributed to some kind of broken down immunity. I think it’s stupid to think this, but I’d love to be able to control these thoughts popping in and out.
The bracelet is the only shining part of my week. Pianegonda All Around Mania bracelet, it’s beautiful and I really love it, but alas it isn’t mine. Well….it’s mine for 30 days, Bag,Borrow,Steal. Yeah, I’m borrowing it for the month. Unfortunately, I can’t even afford to borrow some of the things I’d like, so I probably won’t be using it too much. There’s a wait list for the really good stuff.
I skipped class tonight. I had chills this afternoon on top of being depressed. I just don’t feel like I can face anyone right now.
My fruit serving with a little extra. I haven’t been in the mood for fruit that much and a little juice can be a fruit serving on Nutrisystem, the champagne no. There’s no room for alcohol on Nutrisystem and I haven’t had any since I started in July. Then September came and my drawing class likes to drink and then my birthday and then I was given a bottle of champagne and I love Mimosa(s).
I would have never drank anything like that if I were still losing weight, but the last time I dropped any was mid-August. I have plateaued just like I always do. The same weight since mid-August even after drinking a bit. I haven’t given up but I can’t keep eating food that’s not so great and not have a pay-off.
I’ve ordered the FRS Energy drink that Lance Armstrong advertises. It isn’t for weight loss but energy and I think it is good for the immune system. I hope this helps at least give me more energy for more activity . I really slow down around 2pm.
I really like the way my body is looking and I’ve already lost over 10 pounds but I’d love to drop 10 more. I’m going to finish the Nutrisystem food I have and then I’m moving on to a different diet. I’ve already suspended my auto-ship. I’m not even sure I need a diet because I know how to eat a balanced meal now and I know portion size too since I’ve had a food scale for more than a year now. It’s all about eating small amounts often and no junk but instead whole food. The books “Eat This Not That” have been an incredible help and I bought all of them except the kids one. I understand how I got here -unhappy with my weight even though I’ve gotten comments from other NS dieters that they would kill to look like me and what do I want to be, perfect? I still won’t be happy unless I am on the verge of being under weight, that’s how I like my body to look.
I went to a doctor to see about getting Restylane injections and she suggested Juvederm instead. I’m doing it. She talked to me about a couple other things I might do too. It isn’t a lot, I don’t need to go overboard, just tweaked a little. I wanted to do it this Friday but I have something else to do. I have to think where I have to be in case I have bruising. I’m also going to get my ears pierced, yep I don’t have pierced ears.
This is the new me doing things that will probably make me a little more happy. Things I wouldn’t have done before because I would have thought that money should go into the bank. I’ve been studying some other women lately and wow, I don’t do half the things they spend money on. One of the facts that has hit me in the face lately is that I haven’t given myself worth. I’ve based my worth on how others value me and well that hasn’t worked out. I’m a valuable person and I’m going to treat myself that way and I’m not offering any explanations to anyone.
One of the issues I experience with selling my work is that clients don’t want to pay shipping. It is usually a point of contention and will make or break the sale depending on how much of the shipping charge I am willing to eat. It has gotten so bad that I now have to work shipping charges into the price of the painting so that I’m not taking a huge hit on every sale. This is what I do with my new work but I haven’t changed the prices on my old work and don’t plan on it, so there are really reasonable prices on quite a bit of my work.
The problem is that even on this low priced work, clients expect me to include shipping or not charge over $20, Really? Here’s the deal…Packing material = $42, yeah, boxes and packing material have to be bought and paintings require a lot. FedEx charges me approximately $80 give or take $5 to ship across the country for a painting measuring 30×40…so the box won’t be 30×40 right…the box has to be bigger, so you see, if you are buying a painting that’s not even that big I have to pay for dimensional weight. It’s the size that matters and 30×40 is small in my world, I don’t even paint that small anymore. So, about $120 to ship a painting that doesn’t cost double that and I will cover more than half the cost of shipping and only charge someone $50 to ship a $200 painting and they balk at that. I pay $70 out of my own pocket to appease someone. I’m considering not selling the older work anymore unless it is local because it’s just too much trouble. No one gets that I cover a lot on my own and then realize that I pay a commission also for the rep to process the sale…20% which is cheap in the art world because a lot of galleries take 40%. What do you really think I’m making? I have been extremely generous to my clients, extremely and probably some of them know it, but I’m frustrated at the lack of understanding by a great deal of potential clients.
Like I’ve alluded to, this isn’t an isolated incident. This is a reoccurring theme. There was this woman in Philly who kept wanting to buy my work but she only wanted to offer half of the asking price for every single piece. I drew the line when there was a painting I was only charging $40 and she offered me $20. Get out. The truth is…I’ve given small paintings away to a few when they’ve bought multiple paintings, yeah, I’ll throw in one if they’ve acted interested in it…I’m generous, but please don’t insult me.
Well, I’m obviously very unhappy and I’ve been really depressed for probably 2 years now. Seriously depressed in the past year where I stopped getting out of bed for days at a time, that went on for 4 months. I don’t know how to help myself. I don’t know how to meander my way through without making my problems worse.
I have to start small. I’m just starting to make lists-to do lists. I’m hoping it will help me stay on task. I finished my bookmark design and submitted it, even though I got really frustrated and almost quit. I finished. I have trouble getting over the smallest hump. I don’t know why I’m so weak, but what I tell myself is that I’m so damaged at this point that I guess there isn’t much left to work with.
I have a list of appointments to make…this is a problem area for me. Why can’t I commit?
Time lapse.
It’s almost 5pm and I’ve managed to make all my appointments except one…the periodontist, ok I’m a little afraid that’s all. I’m the one who nagged my dentist into giving me a referral…but I’d rather be proactive in this area. It’s just an evaluation so nothing bad should be happening to me…I guess just another commitment issue I’m having.
I’m hoping these small steps are going to lead me to taking more risks. I need big change. I need real goals.
It’s really windy here today and I guess it’s blowing in some kind of front but my head is all achey. I bought a ring from this jewelry store I use online and unfortunately it was too small. It’s not that I don’t know my size but this was a stackable ring-and that size I didn’t know. Too bad the store doesn’t notate that you should go up a size since most of the ring doesn’t sit where a ring usually sits on your finger. Ahh, well, live and learn. The return directions said to return registered mail but the post office told me I couldn’t use registered mail with a padded envelope, so it cost $17 to send it express so it was insured, blech….complications.
I’m still using Nutrisystem but haven’t lost any weight for a few weeks. I’ve lost over 10 pounds so far though, I guess I need to add that exercise. I quit exercising shortly after I started the diet because I was having a lot of lightheaded feelings. I started exercising last week a bit but now I’m getting up and doing the walk/run first thing in the morning. I can’t wait to finally lose the last 10 but then I have the feeling I need to go a little lower.
I fit into all my clothes except one pair of jeans, which honestly, I don’t know if i ever fit into them. I think they might have gotten switched at the counter because I got them on in the fitting room but 2 weeks later when I tried to wear them-couldn’t get them on at all! I got all my clothes back from the tailor on Thursday and I was so happy with them. I’m definitely going to be hooked on getting my clothes altered to fit how they should. I’m making friends with my new drycleaner too.
I have my eye open for job opportunities I might like. I feel like I’m on a teeter totter, up and down on what to do. I’m going to take a nap for my head and then work on my bookmarks that I’m designing.
I don’t know what is wrong with me but it appears I have no coping skills. The last time I had a dentist appointment I wrote about how bad I was feeling, how dejected I felt walking home afterward. Well, I had another appointment yesterday and today I feel myself spiraling downward and fast. I spent last evening obsessing over why my package delivery failed even though I was home when the delivery was attempted. I have a slight obsession with getting my packages and it controls my days and sometimes my nights fretting over it. I feel very uneven and unwound. Just upset about everything.
Last week I began taking a figure drawing class and it was a really good class but I couldn’t draw…I mean really bad. I sabotaged myself and my brain took over saying horrible things and I let myself slide into it. Accepting. Yes, I know I am less than everyone else here, it’s true. This dialogue went on for 2 hours even though I know I was always one of the stronger figure drawers in art school and if there’s one thing I can do it’s figure draw. I’m no Michelangelo; I’m just saying I could always draw a decent figure. Doesn’t matter, I allowed my negative thought process to get the best of me. Destroyed, embarrassed. I need to pull myself together, this is all I have.
My new drawing board is supposed to arrive today and yes, I’m obsessed with it getting here. I bought one at Utrecht but just like a lot of things I buy at Utrecht it was a piece of garbage. The one clip won’t hold and I struggled with the pad the entire class. Walking home it just fell off and made it complete crap carrying it. 7 blocks of cussing it. I had 2 drawing boards over 4 years of art school and neither gave me grief. Sure you have to jam the pad into the clips to get them to hold but they hold-for 4 years they held. When I got home I got online and ordered another from Dick Blick. I just need something to go right.
The class was really interesting…err…we had beer to drink. The class talked the entire time during the drawing including the model. I was…well, I think I described what I was, but this threw me off too. The art school I went to was really strict and we really weren’t even allowed to talk during a drawing session, really high pressure. You certainly never talked to the model. The model wasn’t treated very humanely in art school, so this was really different. I can live with it. I can see how borderline abusive the school I went to was, I mean I knew it was but this just makes it really vivid how much. I just hope I can relax enough to draw next time.
I can’t explain how confused I am. I keep having interactions with people who are normal. People who haven’t been abused into a warped sort of being. People who have goals and attain them. People who talk to others with respect and interest. People who have lives and live them. I don’t know this way of living. It’s like watching a movie. I’m embarrassed about who I am. I want to be honest about it. I’m a nobody, I come from nothing, I’ve been abused, I’m a pretty decent person but probably not someone you want to be associated with.
Why do new situations have to be so hard? Why does my mind have to control me? I feel it coming on me. Here it comes and then I submit to it. Once, just once I want to stand up to it and say, Not this time! I want to breathe and take over doing what I know I can do. I want to be in control. I want to overtake the bad thoughts and tell them you’re not going to ruin this for me and prove it, win. How? I want to be like Lance Armstrong, but how? He’s amazing. He’s the opposite of me.
Seriously, could he look any better? No, he couldn’t, he’s gorgeous.
While I was waiting for a train today, a guy came over to me with a math book. He asked if I could help him with a trig problem. I told him I’m the last person you should be asking to help with a math problem…the very last. He retreated. I have to say, I was flattered that I even looked like I’ve ever done a trig problem.
Turn on espresso machine
Run faucet for hot water
Walk to pantry for frittata packet
Spray dish with Pam, empty packet into dish
Open cabinet for measuring cup
Look in dishwasher for measuring cup
Realize I didn’t turn on the dishwasher last night
Think
Open drawer for dry measuring cup
Mix
Leave
Add skim milk to cup
Realize I forgot to rotate tamping lever yesterday
Think about how I hate putting coffee onto the wet screen
Consider how I could take top off and clean it
Nay
Stand there steaming and foaming
Put frittata dish in microwave, start
Hit the coffee button on machine
Grab 2 packs of Equal and sneak them into coffee cup while coffee streams in
Take out cinnamon from cabinet
Expletive at allowing cup to get too full
Sprinkle cinnamon
Remove frittata from microwave
Swirl coffee foam with spoon
Beautiful
Carry my frittata and coffee happily to my breakfast place, I won’t say where it is
Start to take a bite of frittata and realize I forgot to add the Laughing Cow Cheese wedge before cooking
Take frittata back to kitchen and spread cold Laughing Cow Cheese over top of frittata
It’ll be ok
Back to breakfast area
Yes, I knew it’d be ok.
I’m this far…starting to organize my closet. I have this free standing rack but I have to do some rearranging to fit it in. I worked mostly on my bathroom over the weekend. It was a challenge to get it sorted out. I definitely have a moratorium on anti-aging lotions, this is really ridiculous. There are a lot of trial sizes I got free on top of the ones I bought, so it’s a lot. I’ve been using the ones I don’t really care for on my feet and that works out nice actually.
I have to do my dishes by hand until my dishwasher gets repaired. The door broke over the weekend. I’m not a fan of these kind of dishwashers. I’ve had an Asko and this one is Bosch and neither worked as well as the cheap brands I’ve had.
I am enjoying my bathtub. I only had a shower in my other place and a bathtub was a must have. This one isn’t over sized either because I can’t stand those huge soaking tubs. I’ve had 2 of those and they are hideous to clean unless you are about 6ft tall with a long reach.
This place is pretty small and I’m really not sure how I’m going to paint here but somehow I will work it out. Still, someone showed up at my door this morning and I wasn’t dressed yet but I had to go to the door. I detest someone seeing me in a shirt without a bra but it was a decision, shirt or pants?, shirt or pants?
Why do I always have to be the one with the broken heart?
I had a really bad experience with someone last night on my messenger. I don’t even particularly care for this person and the only reason they are even on my messenger is because they were left over from my Second Life days. I always kind of felt he was boring to talk to so I mainly just stayed invisible. So, last night I just opened my messenger and 5 minutes later he starts chatting and really, he’s like one of the last people I want to chat with. Again, I’m finding him a drag and so I bring up how I’ve been watching comedians on HBO and how I thought the one guy, Rick Gervais was pretty funny and this guy got put off and said he was a twat or something to that effect.
And then he begins to show how off balanced he just might be and starts ragging on Americans and how stupid we are. Further, he tells me I’m unintelligent and goes further and decides I’m just plain stupid. Not once did I hurl an insult his way, not once, nor did I ever say anything negative about his country, Scotland btw. The American bashing does not go over with me and I don’t even bleed red, white and blue but anyway, I wonder why certain people find it necessary to inform me that we are hated worldwide. Do I care? Why should I care? People are free to hate whomever they choose, so go ahead and be a hater, I DO NOT CARE! Enjoy, It does not change my life.
I’d had enough and told him, hmm…you seem a little insecure but have a nice evening anyway. Click. Later when I went back to my messenger to delete the little pisher, he had left 2 offlines for me. One stating my paintings are kack and the other one I can’t remember but probably restating how stupid I am.
That was really weird for me. For someone who is in their 30’s to come off like a 13 year old flinging snide remarks at every turn, unprovoked, except for liking that comedian, who by the way, I didn’t even know his name but knew he starred in Ghost Town. It was weird, like he had some kind of mental illness. Other than that, well it just makes me feel terrible because there doesn’t seem to be a lot of hope out there. People seem to be one tragedy after another.
I and Love and You
I had to say how he seems to carry a disdain for almost everything I love and find meaningful. I had to point out how that is exactly how my mother treats me and it drew his face down because he knew it was true; he just never realized it.
Once he said, “I can’t watch this movie because she reminds me of you.” and then left the room. I turned it off and I can definitely tell you I will never watch the movie nor will I ever forget having that said to me. Caustic.
I had to ask how long I’m expected to live my life like that? When the people who are supposed to love you have these kind of feelings toward you, then you just don’t want to love anyone. I mean what is the point?
Yesterday, I had my schedule worked out for all the errands I had to run but somehow and I’m surprised I did this, I ended up going out to the hinterland unplanned, so I was just going by word of mouth how to get to this place…umm, The Pottery Barn. The Pottery Barn that I was in, talked me into going to another PB to pick up the duvet cover they were out of. It sounded so simple in the store, but I do actually know better than to get on a train and head out with no map to a place I’ve never been or even heard of. I just thought it sounded simple enough and I do have GPS mapping on my phone, I’d be ok. I did tell the person that I’m not driving…train and walking.
I kind of got a bad feeling when the train suddenly came above ground and I saw us traveling over a massive freeway, “God, Where the hell am I going?” All the stops from there on out looked like bad omens for a pedestrian. “I’m just going to get off, get back on the other direction and head home.” I thought. No, train goes back underground, hmm, maybe it’ll be ok. So I get off at the stop, clueless which way to walk. Girl in store said 3 blocks, I ask man in station and he says 2 blocks straight ahead….WRONG. Try 6 and I mean massive blocks. I can’t say this isn’t pedestrian friendly because there were sidewalks, but let’s just say I was the only one using them. It was a completely car dominated town in Maryland and my GPS is for shit, it really is and no other way I can accurately describe it. At one point it told me to turn around go back the way I just came from like I missed it. I didn’t know whether to turn around and get back on the train or keep going. I think I forgot to mention that I’m lugging a gigantic loaded Pottery Barn shopping bag already, mind you they said 2 or 3 blocks when I started. I was in front of a Staples so I went in and asked an employee there. I just told her I was lost, just going by what the other store told me and my GPS is saying I should turn and go the other way. No, she said I was almost there and she even went outside with me to make sure I saw how to go. Some people are so helpful and I did I mention how beastly hot it was?
I finally came upon the mall and you know how mall parking lots are pedestrian friendly right? Yeah, it was like the scene from Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, where Steve Martin finds his rental car wasn’t in the space and he had to trudge back to the airport…remember how it went? Well, I’m exaggerating again, but it wasn’t pedestrian friendly by any means. Cars that aren’t used to seeing humans tend to want to run them over and here I am in my pink paisley dress trudging along with a huge PB shopping bag across and entry ramp. Anyway, I got the duvet cover and it kind of kills me that I’m not sure it’s the right one. They are expensive so I don’t want to just keep something because it was a pain in the ass to get. I haven’t opened it or anything so I might be taking it back…to the closest PB. After that I was so dehydrated, I went into Borders Books and ordered a frozen drink, when I should have just had water, but I needed something to reward myself and trust me It was 5:30 at that point and I left my apartment a noon. If anyone in this town needed a frozen drink yesterday it was me. I still had to find the door I entered from and make my way through the parking lot to the same street I had walked down. I got out in the parking lot, hmm, it kind of looks familiar…
I found this beautiful top and thought it was evocative of some of Carlos Miele designs which I love and I thought the fine layering looked very ethereal when I saw them on the runway, wow! This top is mainstreamed for the masses and much of the ethereal nature is missing because of what that costs, but I think it looks good enough to capture the thought.
What if there was no light.
Nothing wrong, nothing right.
What if there was no time?
And no reason or rhyme?
What if you should decide
That you don’t want me there by your side.
That you don’t want me there in your life.
What if I got it wrong?
And no poem or song..
Could put right what I got wrong,
Or make you feel I belong
What if you should decide
That you don’t want me there by your side
That you don’t want me there in your life.
Let’s take a breath, jump over the side.
How can you know it if you don’t even try?
Every step that you take
Could be your biggest mistake
It could bend or it could break
But that’s the risk that you take
What if you should decide
That you don’t want me there in your life.
That you don’t want me there by your side.
What If by Coldplay
The conversation hadn’t gone on too long before she started spreading negative remarks about one of the few people who meant something to me growing up. She never had anything good to say about her. She never liked her daughter either, my best friend for many years and these people were the only ones who I associate any happy childhood memories. They were my respite and a window into what normal could be. They are both gone now and by that I mean deceased…still she has to degrade them. Sentence after sentence of her recalling how much she disliked them. I still after all this time feel the hurt from how she broke the news to me that my friend had died in a car accident. It was brutally cruel. Now my friend’s mother is gone and she was nothing but good to me and I have to listen to my mother cut her down. The nerve of some of the things she said, all untrue.
What kind of a mother does that?
That’s the exact phrase one of my former English professors asked my fiction writing class when I wrote a story based on an example of mother’s behavior with me. What kind of mother is right. I never told anyone that part of the story was true. Their responses were enough to convince me how wronged I’ve been and continue to be. What I have is a mother who hates anything or anyone who makes me happy.
re⋅press –verb (used with object)
1. to keep under control, check, or suppress (desires, feelings, actions, tears, etc.).
2. to keep down or suppress (anything objectionable).
3. to put down or quell (sedition, disorder, etc.).
4. to reduce (persons) to subjection.
5. Psychoanalysis. to reject (painful or disagreeable ideas, memories, feelings, or impulses) from the conscious mind.
Repressed was the word of the weekend because that’s what I am, that’s what I’ve always been. I’m sick of it too and when I brought it up because it’s happening again and I included the evidence to back it up, well there it was again. The ugliest word in my life.
and then, “We don’t need to talk about this.”
and then, “Fuck that, I do need to talk about it, because it’s ruining my life.”
All the sickening things about me came out, the things that make me hate myself. How did I ever let others take control of my life? I know all the answers already. I allowed them. No one should give up their life, the only life they ever get to others.
I handed myself over to someone too young and allowed them complete control over my life. No one ever watched my back so I was swallowed whole by him and his helpful watchdogs and it was an ugly thing to watch. Now I’m realizing I didn’t deserve it and I’ll no longer bite my tongue. I know I got into this position by not having an example to follow. I thought the life I was living was normal. No one has the right to decide my life except me. All this has led me to go after 2 objects of my desire in the past 3 years and I’ve gotten both, but then my heart was broken, by the first more than the second. I’m numb inside and starting not to care, which will help me in the end. It’s not important if someone wants me or not instead it’s more important I want myself. I have no idea what’s coming.
I was a little disappointed that staging furniture was left behind when I stepped into the new place on Friday, in fact there were a couple of workers there. The closing was Thursday so I was surprised to see them. They left soon after I got there but left behind 3 chairs, 3 paintings, magazines, various disposable plates, cutlery and tablecloths, all from open houses. They also left a case of white wine, which I’m keeping. I expected that they would have had professional cleaners tidy the place up before our closing but I see that’s something more common when renting a place. I have a lot of cleaning to do, including the refrigerator. I didn’t expect to have to do much to a brand new refrigerator but then I didn’t expect them to use it for a party either.
I’m thinking about having my locks changed because I have no idea who had access to the keys and I have had more people walk in on me in the past year to last me a lifetime. I think that’s what bothered me the most about seeing strangers in there, I needed my sense of privacy back. I needed to know that the only way anyone had access to me was if I gave them access. I did not expect to see anyone in there after the keys were handed over to me on Thursday. I guess they didn’t expect to see me either, so soon, but I had to be there to have windows measured by the blind company. It was a defeated feeling though, like not having privacy is just never going to end.
I guess I’ll probably go on Sunday and start cleaning the floors. I worked on the bathrooms on Friday minus the shower, tub and floor. I’ll get to that refrigerator eventually. I chose room darkening blinds for my windows. I think they are going to be great and I’ve read nothing but good reviews on how useful they are when you want to sleep-in. My paintings, easels, taboret and supplies are already moved in and now I just have to wait for the movers to pick up the rest of my life.
I’m still packing in slow motion. The thing about me is that I don’t want to take anything with me and I tend to get rid of things I probably shouldn’t, including photos. Sometimes I think it’s because I don’t want to be reminded of what I am. As my dislike of packing grows, more items go into the trash or give away bag.
I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my hair tangling and knotting after I get out of the shower and a couple of times it was so bad I broke some hair off trying to untangle it. I think it began when I started using the Fekkai shampoo so I had to find a good detangler because the Fekkai is so good that I’m not willing to give it up just yet. I don’t like the smell of the shampoo because it’s an orange smell and orange and coconut are scents I just don’t like to smell on my hair. One reminds me of sunbathing and the other reminiscent of Jhirmack shampoo from my teen days. Fekkai Shampoo is great though. I have another bottle of Fekkai glossing shampoo and I haven’t tried it yet or even smelled it so I might end up finding I like the scent of that one. I haven’t been using the conditioner in the shower, instead I’ve been using Garnier Fructis Leave In Conditioner and I’m really liking the results. I finish with Fekkai Protein Spray and then a few pumps of Fekkai All Day Hair Plump, which is holy cow expensive! $95.00 for a slim pump bottle, I can’t explain it but N-I-C-E! I have to admit the price enticed me to buy it, I couldn’t imagine what benefit it offered to justify spending that kind of money and I had to find out.
In the past I have only used Johnson’s No More Tangles and I really love that stuff but I thought I needed to move on from children’s products. Just smelling it takes me back but I don’t think I need to go around smelling like a juvey. I shopped around a little and decided to go with the Rusk detangler, it’s not too expensive and had some reviews that made it seem suited to my hair. I think it worked out pretty well, though I still had to work a little to get my hair to un-knot-it did finally without any damage. It didn’t leave any residue that I could tell and I haven’t noticed my hair weighted down in any way so it was a good choice. I read that it smelled great but I really can’t smell anything. I would love to find a product that made my hair smell the way I wanted but that’s for another day and another quest.
I had to splurge on another product called iS Clinical C & E Serum, in which a 1oz vial runs $120.00, but honestly I only buy it about once a year or year and a half. It has really amazing healing properties . My skin just doesn’t want to heal completely and I carry the marks for many months. It was a whole year for a mark on my foot to disappear from wearing flip flops. It’s very annoying and takes a lot of trial and error to help yourself. This serum is supposed to be for wrinkles but I have never used it for that purpose. What happened was I bought another product from this company and they sent me a small sample vial of the C & E serum. There weren’t any directions with the sample so I took a chance and applied on my shoulder and was wowed by the result, then I found out the price. I did have to save up to buy it the first time. I noticed some other people in reviews were also using it to heal their skin and not on wrinkles. See what we do when they don’t include directions? This company offers another serum for healing your skin but from the reviews I’ve read the C & E serum works a lot better.
The suede boots that I bought from Nordstrom and got $70.00 off arrived last week. These will probably be my Go-To boots, but I have to admit I felt disappointment at not having a higher heel. I can’t really expect to always traipse around in heels especially with the amount of walking I do, but if my feet would allow it, I definitely would like to. I would probably go around in black dr. martens combat boots if I could get away with it, but alas I’m getting too old to wear them and have to dress more chic than whatever it is I lean toward. It’s not always a good thing to be drawn to leather, metal, and chains I don’t want to look ridiculous after-all. . I’m just trying to transition to minimalist chic.
I’m not sure why loneliness creeps in
Its silent approach
like an acquaintance you’d rather not deal with
But they’re there…again.
Empty spots. opened again
Beginning to be sore to the touch.
It’s hard not to pick through.
I see my own parts torn
unable to heal
I see I’m broken
A piece of garbage tossed away without thought
Meaningless Embraces
Simply a fabrication of my imagination
Hurt feelings very real.
And then realities and realizations set in.
Who killed me ?
My Mother for starters, in fact my whole family killed me emotionally.
They have no interest in me and when you have to finally swallow that bitter pill
it tends to go down hard. I cried forever at the realization I was never going to be loved
in a way I see others loved. I’m talking complete indifference. I’m not talking the kind of mother who says “You’re not wearing that, are you?” kind of hurt, No, I’m talking about a mother who says, “No one can stand you.”, at a time when I desperately needed someone, anyone to give me comfort. That’s a whole different kind of mother and a whole different kind of hurt. So I cried until no more tears would fall and no one ever stepped in to comfort this hurt. I haven’t cried since.
For the past 22 years I have hid anything positive about myself from them. They just never get the news.
It’s so easy to check out of life, no one tends to notice. My behavior makes them more comfortable with themselves, because nothing brings out the daggers in the family like good news about myself.
The curiosity of how someone can end up with my lot in life, well, you don’t have to be Freud or anything . My maternal grandmother was raised in an orphanage run by Germans beginning at the age of 6. She stayed until she was an adult and even then stayed to work there. There was zero love there so she never learned to give it. Her own mother managed two different fathers between her and her sister and then went on to have about 5 more kids with a third man who would never allow her to bring her 2 girls with her, so warm and fuzzy feelings there and this may not sound like a big deal today, but back then, this was massive . My grandmother ended up hard, unemotional, and showed no physical love to anyone. My home was void of physical love. I was with my grandmother once at church and some people brought a woman over to her because she was visiting from Germany and they knew she wanted to converse in German. My Grandmother refused and said she didn’t remember any German. C’mon, Grandma, you spoke it your live-long life, you didn’t forget it. You were being cruel. The churchgoers looked aghast, I was embarrassed as a child even.
My paternal grandmother had her own bonding issues, though I didn’t know her well enough to know her story, but she left 4 young children, including an infant and a toddler to run off with another man. My own father probably saw his parents only a handful of times in his whole adult life. That’s the kind of stock I’m from. I realize I can’t expect much and it explains some of my tendencies with intimacy and betrayal. They are part of my fabric, not a beautifully woven tapestry but a torn and thread-bare kitsch quilt. When I look at the facts I can see nothing ever; can fill this kind of void .
I tried to find emotional connections. It hasn’t been successful and I’ve tended to find people who are happy to get involved with me in a way that meets their needs. No one in the end cared enough to make sure I was ok. But, it’s not their problem, it’s mine. This last one stings a little I will admit. I allowed myself to be more physically open and affectionate without the worry of being pushed away. I liked the feeling. He doesn’t know this kind of deficiency; you can tell he’s adored by everyone. I’m not going to be a happy ending. That’s why I need to cry. Once again I have to fade into what was and what will never be again. I have to wake up and realize what I want cannot exist in my world. How could it?
Dashboard Confessional, Standard Lines
Dear You,
I don’t think I can see you anymore, because it’s been a pretty long time without a word.
And that just makes me feel bad about myself.
I started thinking you had no interest in me
and that I was more of a convenience than anything.
And I already have that kind of pain in my life,
I don’t think I need to add to that.
And right smack along side my soliloquy:
“I don’t want to say any of this.
I lament never being able to touch your skin again.
To never hear your voice or look at your lovely face.
I really want to say to you, “Ok, what time?”
But I can’t say that.
I have to show dignity.
I’ve been very patient with you as you fall off the face of the earth from time to time.
Even more understanding with other things, let’s call them disappointments.
But you give the best hugs I’ve ever had in my life,
and I know I must have overwhelmed you
and that’s why some things happened,
but I was always willing to give it another shot.
I’m so incredibly attracted to you, off the charts.
You could say something now; your words could change everything.
I really want to see you again, touch you, smell you. I don’t want it to be over yet.
But I’m not a free pass or someone to even out the rough spots for you.
I expect more.
Say something…please. Tell me I mean something to you, but you don’t understand me.
I’ll get that, Or just tell me you don’t want it to be over either.
You really are so gorgeous, how did I ever get involved with you?
You are completely out of my league.
Keep it together, don’t falter…you have to say it.
Say it.
Tell him good-bye.”
Remember that blog entry a few or less back where I was talking about God making me good but not yet business and then about dieting and reading Wayne Dyer books? I never read anymore of the books and now they are in a box waiting to be moved and forget the whole diet thing and thinking I could eat only 500 calories a day and lose weight; not happening. I of course started passing out every time I stood up-big surprise. I decided holding onto walls every time I needed to walk somewhere wasn’t good and I got the NutriSystem food and now I’m eating as if the goddess Circe has me under her spell and still losing weight. Sheesh, what a concept. The tipping point to me getting NutriSystem wasn’t actually the passing out part -though I knew it wasn’t a good sign, but instead a comment from someone I didn’t know. I don’t want to repeat it but I signed up for the diet a couple hours later.
After 2 weeks I’ve lost just shy of 7 pounds, 2/10 of a pound away from 7. I’m 13 pounds away from my goal because that’s the least the website would allow your BMI to go, but depending on how I look I might go another 5 pounds lower. Once you’re on the program there’s really no control over what you lose; I guess it’s just the initial sign-up they have programmed to not allow BMI’s under 18.
Even though this is all good, I’m still feeling down. This week was one difficult moment after another until finally I just didn’t want to get out of bed again. But…I got out of bed everyday and even though I wanted to take a nap today I didn’t let myself. I feel the unraveling starting nonetheless.
Nordstrom is having their Anniversary sale right now and I ordered the pair of boots I’ve been wanting. They were $70 off. I don’t know why boots make me happy, but I guess shoes do the same. I wanted more but I didn’t buy anything else and I really didn’t want to buy the boots at that moment either but $70 off? And I knew I was going to buy them eventually, so I guess it’s ok. That was the only sparkling moment of my week.
I knew I was going to buy this skirt from the first moment I saw it on the mannequin. I pass it everyday I walk through the train station but today stopped to try it on. The guy helping me encouraged me to try on a petite size which I’ve never ever worn, but sure enough it looked better than the regular size. I was unsure though and kept taking one off and putting the other on back and forth, back and forth. The last thing I need right now is another piece of clothing that is too tight, but actually the difference in fit wasn’t so much tightness but length and a little more exacting fit on the waist.
It’s really very cute with the double layer and a large stand-out zipper.
I know I said I wasn’t going to buy a dress but it was hanging there and I thought it looked like it might work. It looked really cute on, kind of clingy, so no tent problem with this one.
It was really low priced too. It’s purple.
I bought these sandals as soon as the spring clothes came in, but I get asked about them all the time. BCBG, style is Peter, but I don’t know if any are available anymore, that’s why I don’t wait to buy. I’ve learned the hard way, it won’t be there later.
I never did find that summer dress I was looking for. I returned the baby doll dress, I returned the trapeze dress and then tried on more of the same, but they don’t look good on me. When I put them on I immediately see my Grandmother in one of her house-dresses, as she used to call them. They were roomy cotton dresses she wore around the house instead of wearing her good clothes-and they looked looked horrid on her too. I equate the house-dress to me wearing sweatpants around my apartment but I don’t wear them out except to jog. I over heard a teenager in the store telling her friend, “You know what the style is now? It’s to look pregnant. Yep, this isn’t the summer of love.” I thought it was funny. Those dresses do make you look fat for sure. I’m pretty stuck on wearing sheath style dresses, which is all I have and I decided not to buy another right now. I like my clothes very fitted, cinched in, otherwise I just look dumpy. I bought this pretty top instead of a dress. It was a little pricey but I justified it by saying I was going to pay that amount for a dress. I loved the black ribbons on the front. I’m a fiend for hip embellishments. I have a couple dresses with silver metal grommets all over and the other day a man ran up the escalator coming out of the metro to hand me a grommet. “This fell off your dress.”, he said breathlessly. It did look like something off my dress, but it wasn’t from my dress. Interesting how I might be collecting metal street gar-bage.
Nurse Jackie quoted St Augustine on the first episode, “God, make me good, but not yet.” What a great quote but the actual quote is more like this, “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” Oh, and need I remind you that “continence” means self-restraint or abstinence, esp. in regard to sexual activity; temperance; moderation-not the secondary definition having to do with a Depends commercial. I’m too lazy to look into this and find out if this is derived from a prayer or one of St Augustine’s philosophical writings, but I understand it might have something to do with him being in an arranged marriage to a too young girl so he takes up with another woman in the mean-time. Or was that just gossip? Like I said, I’m too lazy to really look into it.
I’m starting to read the Wayne Dyer books. I bought 2 yesterday and I sat down and started to read one while I was taking a break at the mall yesterday. I have to say I feel discouraged from the very start. I finished my skim latte, shut the book and went to buy some nail polish. My pacifiers…the hunt for perfect shampoo and conditioner, the right lip color, the perfect black nail polish. I do feel I’m in a hopeless struggle within myself. I don’t trust anyone’s feelings about me and the first notion I feel is that I’m being used.
I want to be as revealing as in my old blog, but I feel I’m not able to be open anymore.
On the weight loss front; I’m down 5 lbs in 2 weeks which isn’t too bad. I decided yesterday that I’m finished reading all the weight loss advice. If I hear one more person say you have to have 120o calories a day or your body goes into starvation mode, I will scream. You will lose weight by creating a deficit and if that’s below 1200 then so be it. I hardly believe my body is going to hang onto every calorie I eat from now on fearing it will starve one day. Look at footage and photos of how thin people used to be, 1970’s and before…seriously you are not going to starve on less than 1200 calories and I’m guessing the majority of people didn’t even know or care what a calorie was back then. Sorry I don’t believe these people were eating 1200 calories or more a day. No, they were too damn thin.
I’ve decided to take a break from eating fish for a while. I’ve been eating a diet since last summer that has been dominated by fish and last night I almost couldn’t swallow another bite. It’s that feeling where you think it isn’t going to go down. Enough is enough already. I grew up eating a lot of fish so it’s not as if I don’t like it, but right now I can’t face it-any of it-even tuna.
I’m not sure how much weight I’ve lost since I started mostly just drinking skim lattes + dinner, but it’s just a few pounds. The truth is I’ve had more than the lattes…crackers. I don’t know why but I love crackers, saltines, cheez its, triskets-makes no difference to me as long as they are crackers. I love animal crackers too even though they push the definition of crackers in my opinion-I like to munch on them when I travel.
My perfume quest still continues. I went shopping with maybe 9 or 10 names on a list over the weekend and still came home empty. I learned that I don’t like Prada by Prada, that was so bad for me. I ended up leaving Nordstrom after that and moved onto Bloomingdales. I’ve had problems before with that one Nordstrom store and they definitely don’t like you having your own agenda…they like to push their agenda on you instead. Even while in Bloomingdales, I began to get annoyed when I was asking for exact titled perfumes by Gucci, Yves St Laurent, Versace etc and they sprayed a card and then I ask, “Which one is this?” Thinking it’s one I asked for and they reply, “Juicy Couture!” Talk about agendas… They’re like little robots programmed to offer the same fragrance to everyone who steps over to the counter. I know the words Juicy Couture did not leave my lips, so why am I smelling it? It really is kind of a big deal because you can only smell a limited number before you can no longer distinguish and my list was already over the top. I also equally love it when they start presenting gift collections which have nothing to do with my quest. I just think it’s obvious when they see someone has a list like I had and I was willing to let them read it, well, there’s obviously something bigger going on with that person and maybe a little discretion is needed on the usual sales pitch routine. I did end up leaving while kind of feeling upset that I didn’t find what I wanted. I also felt bad about myself again, like they thought I was weird or less than. I talked myself out of that later-I think they just wanted me to go away.
I’ve decided to buy Jasmin Noir by Bvlgari which wasn’t on my list at all. I’ve been using a sample vial for about 2 weeks and I do really like this perfume. I’m going to buy it since I feel sad the vial is now empty-a good sign. I have 2 other sample perfumes being mailed to me that I’ll be trying out this week, so more fun to come.
I think I’m also going to pick up a Wayne Dyer book, even though it’s ridiculous I keep buying these books…I already have The Secret and The Laws of Attraction. I watched one of his seminars on PBS this week and a couple things stood out to me that I want to check out. I have to say some of the concepts of The Laws of Attraction have actually worked for me. Unfortunately, I haven’t used the concepts in the most productive way.
3 weeks is the amount of time it takes for me to start feeling bad.
