Quietly Suffocating

My best friend's ex-husband left off their daughter with her after a long weekend spent at his place. As he walked in the door he thrusted a sealed tupperware container at his ex-wife, and grumbled:

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with these fish."


People in my life keep asking what is wrong with me

And I won't answer

Because my problems are as obvious as the fish rapidly dieing in the oxygen-deprived environment of a tupperware container.

I spend my days:

Gasping for breath
Begging and pleading for some kind soul to come to me...
And carefully remove that lid.
But still I sit here.

ALONE

IN QUIET DESPERATION

SUFFOCATING.

Freeing my spirit

I think I've always been a free spirit
But my obsessive-compulsive habits
My over-achieving tendencies
And my self-imposed over-planning has always stifled this.

While all of the aforementioned tendencies have served me well
In that I've managed to:
Graduate law school
Buy a house
Leave a miserable marriage

Nevertheless: I have been flirting with my free spirit lately

Working at a strip cluub is indicitive of this
And dating a woman

My free-spirit has enabled me to express my feeling more directly
And my relationship with Rob seems to be reinvigorated as a result.

This feels like a new beginning for me
And this time I am NOT going to plan a path
But rather I will

TAKE
THINGS
AS
THEY
COME

AND

ENJOY
EVERY
MINUTE

Blissfully Alone

I just had the best evening.

It is Friday. Around 6PM, I was scrambling to make plans.

I WANTED to go out
I NEEDED to leave the house

Then it hit me. I did not need to get in touch with another person to get out of the house.

So I put on my favorite sweater
Actually did my hair and put on makeup
And left the house
ALONE

First I went to the local sushi joint
And ordered some delicious raw salmon with mango sauce

I looked around
At all the happy couples
At the awkward first date unfolding to my left
At the silent long-term couple to my right

I was ALONE
Blissfully ALONE
No unnecessary conversation
No awkward moments
No time contraints

My phone rang
I ignored it

After dinner I went to the bookstore
I wandered aimlessly around the aisles of books
Alone with my thoughts
A cute guy smiled at me
I ignored him

I bought a book:

Atheist Universe: The Thinking Person's Answer to Christian Fundamentalism

(Read it - it is MUST READ for all thinking individuals)

I wandered over to the coffee shop
Where a 2-man band was playing folksy music
And I bought a gingerbread latte
And I turned off my phone

And I read
And I listened to the music

Tonight I learned the art
The pleasure
The skill

Of being

BLISSFULLY ALONE

Sexual Identity

"I'm thinking of you." I text
"You better be." She replies
"I hope you are too." I reply
"Of course. I have been talking about you all night." She responds.

Then it hit me.

I'M FALLING FOR A WOMAN.

"It make sense," says Todd, "With all the bad experiences you had from your a childhood, you probably are a lesbian."

"Remember," says my best friend, "you really aren't into women."

Am I a lesbian?
Am I into women?

All I know is this:

I LIKE THIS GIRL
SHE MAKES ME SMILE
SHE MAKES ME THINK
SHE TURNS ME ON
SHE MAKES ME FEEL ALIVE

And I would like to believe that that does not change who I am as a person, or define me in a new way

But if it does, so be it.

Unexpected Detours

The last few days have been interesting . . .

It all began Friday. I have begun to "double book" plans with Todd and Rob, since they are both so unreliable and there is a huge probability that one or both of the men will cancel, or just not show. Anyway, they are both "just friends" so I have an easy out should both miraculously become available.

So I was double booked. Rob just never appeared. Neither did Todd. I left nasty message on Todd's voicemail around 9 PM. I believe that it shows a lack of respect to make plans, not show, and not cancel. He's supposed to be my best friend. I was fed up.

So, I left nasty message, changed into sweatpants, and settled in front of TV with a gallon of icecream and a gigantic spoon.

Then just before 11 PM

RING RING

It was Todd. He's apologizing.

Me: Whatever Todd
Todd: Let's go out I'll take you ANYWHERE you want to go and I'll pay.
Me: Fine, we are going to the strip club

I have been in a funk of self-pity lately. What could be better then glittery hot naked chicks to snap me out of the mood.

So I exited my cocoon of isolated self-deprecation, put on a shirt that showed an OBSCENE amount of cleavage, and looked in the mirror.

I looked HOT! The 30+ pounds I have taken off have been worth it. Too bad I never leave the house for anyone to appreciate my recent transformation.

The strip club was a blur of a steady flow of Captain and Cokes and gorgeous women. I drank entirely too much. In my drunken stupor I got to talking to this dancer.

She was GORGEOUS
She was a LESBIAN
She was a DOMINANT
She asked for MY NUMBER

But everyone knows that you do not actually meet dancers outside the club. Her attention flattered me though. I gave her my number.

The drinks finally caught up to me. I spent ride home PUKING from the window of Todd's car. Todd reminded me why he has earned the status of "best friend" as he held my hair all night as I threw up. The he massaged my neck all morning to help me get rid of my hang-over migraine headache.

I awoke to a surprise.

On my machine:

"Hi it's "Heaven" from the club (as if I know any other "Heaven's)...my number is 555-555-5555, call me, I would like to meet up."

I spent most of the day Saturday with hangover-from hell. Heaven and I texted back and forth. She said I'm sexy. I said she's sexy. She said She'd call.

Around 2PM Rob calls.

"I'm sorry about last night. I got really busy then fell asleep." It was the same excuse I hear EVERY weekend. "Let me take you to lunch now."

So I drug my hungover ass into the shower, got dressed, and chugged a gatorade as I drove to Rob's place. I jumped in his car and we wee off to lunch. As soon as the car started to move I became dizzy. I yelled:

"PULL THE CAR OVER."

And just in time, I opened the door and vomited the gatorade I just chugged.

"Go home." Said Rob "Get some sleep. I will pick you up at 8 to go to the movies."

So I got home and prepared to rest

RING RING

It was Heaven. And we talked. And we talked. And we talked. Before I knew it an hour had passed. She was interesting. She was creative. She was not traditional. She was intelligent.

WE CLICKED.

I was surprised. We made plans to bar-hop together Sunday night. I asked her, half-jokingly, if the strip-club was hiring waitresses. She said she'd check.

8 o'clock came and went with no word from Rob. I went to bed early, alone.

Heaven calls Sunday. We talk for hours again. She wants me to meet her boss. We solidify plans for that night.

We meet at the strip club later that night.

The manager asks "Do you have any experience waitressing?" I respond, "None." and I add, "I'm friendly and responsible." Then I unzip my shirt to reveal my full breasts in my low-cut top.

"COME IN TUESDAY."

Heaven and I have a BALL Sunday night bar-hopping. This woman is just GORGEOUS. She is the prettiest person everywhere we go. Not only that but she's amazingly interesting. And everywhere we went, she made it clear to the gawking eyes that we were TOGETHER.

At the end of the night, she suggested I was too tired to drive.

"You can sleep at my place." she says.

Next thing I know we are half-naked in her bed. And we talk. And we cuddle. Nothing more. And it was BLISS.

I awoke to a full breakfast. Heaven cooked eggs, bacon, sausage, homefries, biscuits, the works for me. We spend the day cuddling. She says she'll drive me to work Tuesday, since she's working and I'm nervous.

She lived up to her promise regarding Tuesday (a treat I'm so unaccustomed to). I made almost $200 in tips. I'm officially an unemployed attorney who is actually ENJOYING having strip-club patrons stick dollars in her cleavage.

After work, Heaven invites me to spend the night. And we get up to her room. And we get naked. This woman is PERFECT naked. And we cuddle. And we kiss. Innocent kisses. And we fall asleep in eachother's arms. It was BLISS.

After waking up, I spent day cuddling and talking to this amazing woman. I'm honestly intrigued.


So, there it is. My interesting week. It looks like I've taken an unexpected detour in my road of life. And I'm enjoying every minute of it.

THANK HEAVEN!

A decade of aimless wandering

This morning I woke up, and in a haze, sat down to resume my endless job search.

GOOD MORNING...said yahoo...TODAY IS NOVEMBER 9 2006.

And I stared and I stared at that for 2, for 3, for 5, for 10 minutes.

I placed my pinky finger over the "200" of 2006

Then the tears stared to flow.

I closed my eyes
Tears streaming down my face
And in my mind I saw this:

NOVEMBER 9, 1996

And for a second I was THERE

I was 21 again

I was pure, I was happy, I was innocent
I was free from guilt
I was free from stretch-marks

I had not tarnished my soul...
With elicit affairs
With all night parties spent in drug-induced hazes
With divorce decrees
With casual sex with nameless, faceless men

And there I was
Full of innocence, smiles, and hopes
Doing my hair
Putting on my makeup
Stepping into a long, white dress
Preparing to share my life with the man of my dreams.

Or so I thought.

Its been a decade, 10 years today
And I've done so much, and gone so far
Yet I find myself going nowhere.


"Sometimes a circle feels like a direction." - Louise Goffin

Add "creativity" to that list

I am deep of the depths of depression, self-pity, and inertia.

Included in the things I've LOST in the last 9 weeks:

My job
My credit rating
My self-esteem
My energy
The guy I was dating (and quite fond of)
My zest for life
My desire to rise in the morning
My self-worth
My appetite for sex (and, alas, even to be dominated)
35 pounds

Many famous artists, writers, and generally creative people of years past suffered from depression, and it evidently spurred their creativity. Not I. So that is my excuse for not blogging. I have lost my eloquence.

Or perhaps I never was eloquent, and my current state of depression is making that blaringly apparent to me.

Writing more would probably be therapeutic (as well as painful to readers). I'll try to start documenting this downward spiral...but no promises