to make it trendy: shit that teachers say

so, i was pondering the title of this blog and i was thinking 'things that teachers say" and i realized that the popular internet  phenomena is 'shit that teachers say ' and lord knows im desperate to be cool and even more so, we all know how important the idea of a lord is to me. ok, ill stop trying to be funny. trying to be funny never works. although, i have to tell you that I am occasionally funny. today i listened to a mix i made for IS and it was glorious and all of a sudden Backstreet Boys' I want it That Way' came on and i laughed out loud. that shit was funny. sometimes when i write blogs drunk   ( most of the time im drunk) i will read what i wrote the next day and i have been known to laugh out loud. i get all worried about what my overly sappy self might have said and then see that even in alcohol, i am still funny.  and motherfuckingmother FUCKER. i havent thought about this since the last time he said it. but D used to say "you are occasionally funny.... occasionally...." DAMNIT. i was cleaning last night and i grabbed the chocco cat tupperwear and looked into it and found the necklace he bought me. wisely, i had hidden it there when i realized that having positive thoughts about him was foolish. and i took the time(stupidly) to pull it out and let it run through my fingers. its made well. a good artist had the idea. when he gave it to me, he said it was because it was us. and the birds have been me for a long long time.  before him. but he got it. just like he got everymotherfuckingthingelse about me  and i guess i didn't let it ruin my night, but i sure did have a relapse. we were good together.
     the vizsla is desperately trying to borough under the covers. he licked his paw for an insane amount of time and then went for the nest. it amuses me because im not under the covers. fuck, the mornings have been worse than usual. i think he needed to re nest 5 times this am. its no wonder im undatable. i have told the last few the following:   i will train the dogs that they dont rule my bed once i actually have a permanent lover" hahahhahahahahhaah. permanent lover. it seems like a simple thing. anyway, im going to try not to whine so much in this blog. maybe i should just get it out now. just in case somebody was unclear.

i want a relationship. i miss a man, i mean i miss having a man. ohhhhhh men, with your salty smell and body hair that curls around my fingers  and your belts looping through levi's and hinting at whats underneath and your broad, broad shoulders.   And, i hate being single and wah wah wahhhhhhh. i just want it. i shouldnt say hate being single though, that implies the social status is an issue for me and whhhhooooo doggies, if i was about the social status id have a ring on the finger and a bun in the oven right fucking now. but it isnt that. i love love love men. i love togetherness and i love vulnerability. and. shut the fuck up.

now that i got that out of my system, as if that was enough..... you are going to hear more.

so Sunday M talked a long time before we got started. that amazing Mama said so much but i especially connected with the idea that when we drink water, it is so that we can hydrate so that we can have enough energy to help someone. i see ive been missing that. she talked about the idea of being a martyr, who me? and how putting your own needs aside can be selfish and i was alll " ooooohhhhhhhhh shit! am i not ultimately guilty of that very thing?  why yes i am.
    and just so you know the vizsla spilled wine on my key board a few weeks ago and i cant see whatI'm  typing. it wasn't my fault it really .wasn't. and now i cant see what im doing. the ipad is glorious and so so terrible..   so then tonight it snowed and i am finally not traveling and finally going to be back to L and her followers. and i am so happy and in the class she played different music than usual. it was kind of haunting, and you might expect that of radiohead or bon iver. but when it was Indian and all hare krishna, and still weirdly sad, i guess you have to understand that we are supposed to be in that mode. and yeah, i was haunted. it was a lesson in truth. our studio. our maker's importance, and  one that i have a LOT of trouble with. i decided to devote my practice to the idea of being truthful to myself. i mentioned before that allison said i have a fear of success. and so i thought, motherfucker, how do i set this intention without being an asshole??? i was told by someone i dont know very well that" if i was being honest i would see that i am good", different, good.... so now if i set it that way, then im forced to deal in my own bullshit and thats NOT what yoga is about. so i decide then to dial it back. i need to be truthful about myself.
side note. that bitch lucy has been out and come back in and i bathed her and she is still wet and still smells   and i played  "ohno she didnt" and now she is guilty in bed and licking warm water off her chest. it stinks. i didnt use soap.
   and then these words come " when you are ready, everything lines up"  amen. oh, yes please, let it be that if i keep working on myself that it will be ready and i will receive.
    and that brings me to one of my amazing acting teachers, Ed Gero. he  told us: you can not receive anything new until you clear out the old. he likened it to your closet and truthfully, that is  right there, but when you bring that to you, and your heart, it rings louder and true-er and i guess i am not as definite about it as i should be, but i have been making changes. i cleaned the bathroom last night, saw the damn necklace. the first thing i did when i had my first crush after D was to clean my room. to accept a new lover into your space, one must clear out the old lover.
        in talking to GR on the way back from CVILLE, she pointed out that her own marriage is to a man she loved since she was in her youth. the lady, so you know, is 60 and as beautiful as they come. and she found him again after 2 or three marriages and she suggests "never say never" and a part of me wanted to hang on to it and i wanted to just fall all over again. but i didn't. i gave what i gave. it isnt on me. not anymore. whats on me is following daniel johnstons advice. step out into the light, the light. just please, help me to do that CORRECTLy.


lucy stinks. levi will keep me up, nesting. he is like a woman. i love him, just the same for who he is. so isnt that all the truth i need? won't someone love me for my nesting and articulation and sappy bullshit heart masked in crass blatancy? yeah. sounds good. sweet dreams catherine, you're lucky if you can fix your spelling, never mind the capitals.

never mind the bollocks.
 if i could flick you the bird  than i would. and then make crass  pussy eating signs with my tongue and my fingers. eaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaatttttt it., i would.

the eldest of the Gendell's

john gendell called me tonight. I had a drink out after my restaurant shift. had to come home because I couldn't leave the pet door open because there was a wedding on the water at the neighbor's house who hates me.
    I kept the pet door locked. Sorry, Logan, that I couldn't come to hang out with you. but...... can you imagine it? pretty please, let's do: the wedding has been beautiful. the sun didn't come out, but there wasn't any rain and the photographer was happy because the lighting was perfect. ( thank you Jay Paul, George Kartis and the rest of you). the wedding guests are all smiling and feeling like luck had pressed her lips to their foreheads. the vows were being read, they wrote their own. how sweet. just as the bride was getting ready to say "I do" Lucifer Geuze comes out of nowhere. she jumps up on the bride. muddy paws leaving swamp mud all over the gown. she lets out a scream that would curdle the milk and that sends lucy like lightening to run home. only the nose always knows and she smells the cake. the wedding planner and the hated neighbor race after her. they are yelling and the bride is crying and some teenagers are chuckling in the back and lucy darts towards the cake. two front paws push down into the cake and the neighbor smacks her ass and it is a blow that would cause her pain under normal circumstances but she has her eye on one thing. Her teeth sink into the bride and groom statue and someone hits her on the left shoulder with a champagne glass. she spits out the statue, licks a drop of champagne from her coat, grabs the statue and runs as fast as she can directly to my front door. its a good thing I locked her in that day. and its a good thing that I came home. I had exactly my limit and I came home.
 s I got in the car to go home, that's when the call came. its jake, the eldest of the gendells. and he is drinking wine on his porch. I tell him im leaving and that its a shame because the bar was playing 90's music and I was dancing and letting go and in my super hero mode and I should have stayed, because I haven't been happy like that in a loooong time. and then he says:

 don't ever be sorry for going home. you have had more fun than most. you will have more fun than most. don't ever be sorry. you know how to do it, big C, and you will experience it deeper than anyone else. don't ever be sorry for going home.

ohhhhhh supreme gendell, you are correct we do it better than most. unfortunately we also do the depression better than most. not to mention the fact that we do the way too drunk better, which is why he was encouraging me   g
...................................................................................................................................................................
    so now its a few days later and so much has happened, most of which I really shouldn't write about. then again, isn't that what I do best.  articulate. express myself. fuck, hear I comes, but cryptic to protect the fucking bastards.
     so I broke down and I text someone who I knew would respond. stupiddddddddd. I am so stupid. I text, I was a smartass.he liked it,showed up(uninvited) on my doorstep. I say uninvited because I didn't invite him, but when he said he was coming I went directly upstairs and washed my vag just like Matthew Broderick in that brilliant movie election when he was going to bang Reece Witherspoon's character. so it shows you of my integrity. we hung out and it was fun, as always, and I got to feel his eyes all over me and as nice as it was when we got upstairs I wasn't interested. I guess it happens the way it is supposed to happen.
so, I know that I have reached a better point.sleep. the next morning was enough to wreck me again. well, not wreck really, I knew what I was doing. but it was a different reminder. we lay there in bed and his feet curled up against mine and our spoons were aligned perfectly. any movement that kept us away from each other and we found a way back. we aren't in love. I know that . so when he left it wasn't a shock. but certainly it continued to remind me that I am missing a connection. You can't force them.  But fuuuuuuuuucccck, I wasn't born ugly inside or out (thanks mom and dad and thanks stars ) and I can't for the life of me understand why I have all of a sudden become so uninteresting.
    Last night I watched American Horror Story with James and It was all about how a particular woman could look stupid and still watch the boys flock. And now,  with age,  she is left alone. And I know my life isn't so tragic.  But where the fuck did it go?  I am left understanding that I didn't have power and then I had it and now I don't all over again.   And I don't want it over everyone. I just want to still be in the runniNg.   as a valid piece to the puzzle. As a fucking person. And mother fucker, before you judge me, you should know that I want equality.  I've always wanted it.  And what I received was power.  I didn't ask for it.  And now,  the only thing I can count on is fading.
      I'm in my hotel room,  drinking like a fish and typing in my phone.  So this is worse than usual.  And we all know I feel sorry for myself more when I have passed the super hero phase of booze.  I don't know.  The thing about last Sunday morning is that I remembered how much I love human touch,  human connection.  And I'm guessing the lesson here is that the people I've had it with recently aren't worthy and so something,  somewhere ,is letting me know that I have to keep after it. I  have to experience big like   my Gendell heritage has taught me, been imprinted into me. And that maybe one day through all the booze and imperfections, someone will see my amazing heart and want to take care of it. And then maybe I can stop boring you all with this bull shit.

    I have to stop. . I've been drinKing for days.  And my roommate in my hotel room is ironing. She is my fan and I am hers.  Bon Iver is playing and even though I am not at home,  I bet Lucy is covered In mud and I like that ironing is happening and somewhere,  someone likes that soul searching is going on.

And.  Well.  Fuck.  I can't even proof read. So here you have it here you go.

I didn't leave tonight John Gendell. But I drank just the same. And Lucy is muddy and I am in clean hotel linen and the music is telling us goodnight.

"glass slippers, green silks, and silver shoes". GP

my lips were chapped when Stel left me. I was sick and she took up so much space in the bed that it annoyed me. the next day I went to the cuntvaginasnatch next to Bob's house and bought two kinds of heavy duty lip stuff. I still have both of them. the Vaseline intensive care has been chewed by the monsters, but I still have it. my lips are chapped now and when I applied it to the cracks, she melted into me with the lip goo. I miss her so intensely and its weird how it surfaces.
     im on the sofa. levi is scared and licking my face because the tears worry him. I cant sleep in my bedroom tonight because I have stretched myself too thin with too many jobs and its wrecked. the whole house is disgusting, but today when Levi stood over top of me with the chunky soup can in his mouth three day old soup dripped out and fell on me. also, as I was getting ready to go to the bar with my friends, I noticed there was dog puke. I didn't clean it up. I did my hair instead, and put on a fat hiding dress and some high heels and went out. I looked pretty good and some guy says to me as I was leaving the bar " you got a bounce in your step" I did. for a minute. but I couldn't stay. I know that I had to have responsibility. I know that I needed to be out. but what would out bring? another country song of misery and stupid beer and the big balled guy talking to me resulting in me being so happy that someone considered me worthy that I thought he was a good choice?
   whats the better choice? coming back home to do the chores? im not really doing them. im drinking whiskey and typing this blog. I washed my face and put on my hippy squalene producing eye cream and came down stairs. I looked in the mirror and the lines in my forehead glistened with hippy cream, making the wrinkles the FIRST thing I saw when I looked in the mirror. I don't wear glass slippers, not anymore. its time to get the broom out and maybe the sewing machine. lord knows I already speak to the mice. or at least try to, Lucy was out when I came home tonight. 2 days inside was enough. I miss stella. I miss her so much that I am lost. stella would have stood up to the evil step mother for me, she would have written a song about the trimmins. oh well.
    at the show tonight I was cold so I tried to put all of my limbs on all of my limbs for warmth which led me to the belly. I held it in my hand and the hatred built up. my brother tells me its recumbent. I guess that's the word. i'll probably have to stop drinking to get rid of it.
   I don't know if I should post this at all. but I guess I will because I don't have my broom in hand and because the glass slippers fit me when I was 30.

its ruining me. carbon eyeliner. bordeaux and the plastic cup.

In orf, you are all watching Sigur Ros . I am jealous. I'm making money at one of my favorite schools, but still, I wish I was with you. Instead, I took myself out on a date in my hotel room. listening to Agaetis Byrjun right now. its a lovely soundtrack for a lovely evening. I walked home from work, which was nice. I miss that about the city for sure. if I didn't have the best backyard ever, I would move to Ghent. I'm  jealous of my Satya family, who ride their bikes down the cobble stone streets. If I wasn't poor, I'd move back to NYC. wait, no,...... if I was rich I would move back to NYC, no other way to live there but filthy rich.
    anyway, I walked home, I did yoga in my hotel room. then I had to wash my work "clothes" in the stupid hotel bathtub. I don't like this fibroid one bit. its mess and inconvenience is dastardly, but at the same time, it shows my confidence, my appreciation for the human body and honestly, the clots are so cool. I marvel that they happen. I marvel at their texture. Rich and strangely animal or guttural. once, he said, " they look like little pieces of meat". I think all the time I wont find someone who gets it, any of it, like him. I didn't mean to start that shit, but its true. I hate that I cant be more at peace.  at least I had it.
      I tire of my stupidity but I write because it helps me sort through it. "Starálfur" is on now, fuck, I love it so. I tire of the same ole, but we are human and working through it is important yes? and emotion, silly or no is what we do. and I am trying. I had a nice night. after the tub cleaning, I moved on to fresh tomatoes from my friend's garden, a tortilla from Costco, mayonnaise from the hotel breakfast bar, sharp cheddar purchased at the gas station mart on the walk home( $3.13, ya'll woooooo), a yellow pepper from the wal mart and a shit ton of kale and arugula. yummmmmmm. oh, and a lovely Bordeaux. you didn't think id be without wine did you? I put on my new shirt and my favorite jeans. I felt good. I even lined my eyes with extra carbon. I looked good. then I ate, pontificated, and here I am: spilling useless information that is somehow exactly what is the most important.
      mike text me during all of this to tell me my selfie was super sexy and that it was t0o bad that all the guys I know are hopeless. I love him. the conversation went on to the usual.  told him I was taking myself out on a date and he said to be sure I fucked myself good. nice of him to say, that's a good friend. anyway eventually I replied "sex is ruining me". it sure is.
     I had a nice night tonight.  I liked myself. I had a good time dating me. but I am still, always haunted by wishing I had that human connection. interaction. cat and mouse. and I guess everything that has happened lately has me thinking so much of how I used to be. how I was when Wade, wrote the generic letter for all my suitors that said " while you are building an imaginary home in your mind, I am only thinking of your touch, I wont be there when the construction crew is finished" and I know for sure that my problem now is that I want. I never used to want. and ooooh how they flocked. so I told him " sex is ruining me". it is. wanting it makes me wish for another when what im supposed to be doing is learning to love myself. having it is only reminding me that im not good enough. and holy fucking shit, when did it become so unimportant to other people? isn't chemistry giant? I remember the days of college when I was banging the hot stoner and I had the most perfect body ever because the two of us were so interested in fucking each other that all I did was ride my bike to class and ride my bike to his dorm room. I remember nuked spaghettio's and shoveling in only 4 bites and then quickly hitting the bike again, their was this person to touch. to soak up, to say sweet things to, to taste, to lie next to. to soak up. that's it, really. the soaking up of someone you find fascinating. and who do I find fascinating now? the boy who has my heart who doesn't want it? the one who is off limits? the one who is such a great match but can't hang? the one who is only himself when he's drunk? what I have here, folks is exactly what mike said. a bunch of useless men. but the truth is what does it say about me? fuuuuuuuuuuuck. that's what im aways concerned about. its the stomach fat. the wrinkles and the wanting. no more wanting. if I bought some ruby slippers and clicked three times and posted to facebook, instagram and my blog "theres no place like not giving a fuck" "there's no place like not giving a flying fuck" "there's no place like not giving a flying fuck: would I return to that land of bliss?
    stupid bliss? I simply don' t want the person that doesn't want to soak me up. stupid age ruining my possibilities. I think I will forever me fabulous in my mind, as long as I can figure out how to stop letting sex ruin me. Freud!!!! Help me please. I really did enjoy my date tonight.

ALERT. my drunk friends have returned to the hotel room. im going to enjoy them.  whatever point I was trying to make is lost now to buzz' and i'll figure it out tomorrow.

hope, dangles from a string.

Today i picked up Lilly from her spay appointment. i was filled to the brim with emotion but didnt realize it.the last time i did this  was with stella. i bought her a beautiful yellow bear and when i saw her she wagged her tail and took the bear and she was happy to see me even though she wasnt ok. she was so sick. i loved her so much.  and our bond was so great. i miss her. i still hold on to that bear. the memory of it is too great to part with it.
   as soon as i saw her my eyes welled up. holy shit this is difficult. i suposse that it will all be fine, but i wouldnt be me without crying over it. right now the cat door is open, lilly is too sick to go upstairs and it seems cruel that their door has been shut for so long. i guess Thursday, they throw a party.
   lucy was out twice today. i just spent 250. to fix the fence.

im guessing its the air again. everybody is sad. i turned on facebook and there is Ms. Mae with  a message waiting in my in box that simply says ' i love  you" . timing was so nice.  we discussed the situation and both agreed the problem is feminism. that is the problem, im sure of it.
      and then there is the problem that i focus too much on being alone and not the good things that i have. last night i got off work and walked past the flower on city hall that chimes and lights up when you cross its path. it makes me happy and i thought i would go home  and write about everything im happy about. instead i had a glass of wine with the gun thug and that is one of the things im happy about so i guess it was ok. elisa always reminds us to be thankful for what we have and know that it is always enough. everytime she says that it hits home. i have so much.
 which brings me to the problem of the chemicals that dont work right inside me and the reminder that its scientificaly proven that i have less serotonin than other people . i guess i really should get some medicine. i dont know why i hate it so much. its weird how much yoga keeps it at bay, makes me a better person. but i couldnt go yesterday or today and now here i am crying into my wine. which reminds me that i need to go in and get some more. crisis solved. wine refilled. but yes, i need medicine and i wont take it. i want to be ok on my own.
    last night the gun thug ( who probably wont remember) told me i need to be nicer to myself.  i just keep feeling the failure. the constant reminder that every time i am bold and beautiful and expressive, that i am too much. fucking way too much. and the women who love me, wouldn't change a thing. and the women who hate me for it don't know me. not at all. the other night on my family's back porch, when i was super happy. it all went to shit. i don't even want to say what happened but then there was the statement that "both of them are amazing and totally fucking crazy at the same time" and i know that it is me too. and i know that i as i have been unsuccessful  it is only going to get worse. being alone makes you a miser. makes you forget your checks and balances and then you are difficult. whatever, i guess i just need to remember Rosa and her casa and how that made her happy. and so maybe i will foster dogs and have cat walks all over the outside of the house and continue to be an inspiration to people while i am alone. i guess that means, in one way, that I'm doing it right. thats where age comes in to play to bother me. it was all fine when i knew that i was beautiful and that even though in the end, the next new one wouldn't love me , that at least i would get laid. not just laid, but also have them infatuated for a short time before they realized i was too much. and now it seems the wrinkles and the new belly ( which also comes with boobs i might add) just pile up to secure my place in becoming like victorrrrr, the eldest of the vampiras. cheese, if you are reading this you know. but yes. it feels very over and i am too young to feel that way. too many years are left to not have hope. but i dont have it. there is none.
        sometimes i tell myself to stop being such a jackass and realize that i am a fucking force of nature( thank you, Sean Haberle) and that i should just rock the idea that i am just waiting for someone worthy to come along. i should. but i can't. maybe i need to see a shrink again. maybe i need to take whatever spell that is in daughter of smoke and bone so that i can forget that d ever existed. maybe i need to remember the importance of the  quote " no insignificant penis" and be pleased that i am waiting and not filling up with poison, well, except  for the alcohol which is making me sad these days and not giving me super hero powers at all.
someone posted a sheet in the evms office thta said "take what you need" it has things like love, kindness, and imagination on it. i took the word hope. i need it. i held on to it for quite sometime. remembering how much strength i had when Dr. K put the good words into my curled up hands. i hung on to it until it eventually disappeared, probably fallling onto the floor of my amazingly messy jeep and transfering to someones shoe and then ending up a crumpled piece of paper in the rocks of a driveway, or littering the city torn in half without its  message. or maybe, it did the transfer as a whole  and someone else found it and it lifted them up?
   i have seen another of those take what you needs in the window of Shady Grove. i thought about taking the Hope from that one and i havent. i promise i will. if it is there tomorrow when i go, i will pick it up and hold to it again. keeping it even safer this time. i hate to live without it.

palm up or palm down?

since I started yoga I haven't been depressed. not the deep dark places where I am sad to even breathe. but it has come to my attention lately that I'm not really happy either. I haven't felt joy, really at all. the animals have eaten some old roommate's cup of noodles so that there are little pieces of Styrofoam all over my bedroom floor. the sheets are washed now, but truly they were disgusting for far, far too long. today when I made lunch( with the first groceries I have purchased since before I went away in the beginning of July) the spider webs were so thick that they got caught both on the pan lid and the compost crock lid. there was mold on the cheese I ate. I guess I need to start with cleaning the house. as I type this now I am sitting in the Gun Thug's cigarette ashes and I am just going to go ahead and do that because I need to write. I've needed to write for a long long time now. there just doesn't seem to be any me around.

      today I was angry. yesterday I was angry. and although I got over it, I know it was all unnecessary. cue Lucinda William's " you took my joy" here. as far as that goes, I finally deleted a number from my cell phone. and from my email and knowing that his name won't pop up at all anymore, feels good. I know it would have seemed like a loss before but now I am so happy that I mean goodbye. and that statement alone is quite a lot. it still feels like I wont find another like him.
      I haven't had any human touch in so long. the brief moments when my yoga teachers place their loving hands on my shoulders and press oh so delicately on to my shoulders.... those are the moments that make me both thankful for them and also small and so so lonely. I notice, too, that I stopped thinking about whether or not I was grounding myself or opening myself up. and when I had that thought I then realized that I've been grounding for weeks now. i am back to that tight ball of hurt. that place at the very bottom of the fortress.

  In May, during Midsummer, one of the young actress' received a gift and she smiled. it was so simple and heartfelt and it lit up her whole being. It haunts me. I have not smiled like that in a very long time. it was breathtaking and it haunts me.

     ' You aren't built to be without someone', said Jean. She was right. I miss it. and i have been actively looking and that is part of what disgusts me about myself. i am worrying about the wrong  thing and without my joy and my poetry swirling all around me, how is anyone to even want to be here?
     I've started to wonder if men even want women, well, i mean relationships. i cant think of when someone has had tender feelings for me. and my mother taught me to realize if its happening over and over again, then there is something wrong with you. so i know there is but whatever, that's a different paragraph. do men want to hold hands and have that person be there?  the other day 2 dudes sat down at table 15 and although neither of them was attractive, i was drawn in. i  could smell one them. he had probably washed with one of old spice's new hipster named scents and i realized that i missed the smell of a man. every time i walked by i breathed it in and honestly, i soaked it up, not wanting to go back to the place where i don't get to smell such things.

 Just now, i freed a butterfly from prison in my screened in porch.  that, i can feel good about.

     and hook ups. ugh. they make me feel even worse about men and what they want and even worse about my worth. i remember when i met someone i dated in Illinois, i called Manny to tell him the crazy story of alcohol and sex and slip and slide and walking home without my clothes on and he said " do you think he'll call?" and i said" um, dude, im confident, attractive fun and i teach pussy for a living, of course he'll call" and now i realize that i don't have the same feeling. it doesn't help that the last 2 were not interested at all. and it doesn't help that i cant find me.

     my friend, Newt posted a comment on one of my facebook musings and he said "i miss your beautiful self" and i was inclined to remember that i do have a beauty to me. one that has more colors and depths than most, i just don't know where its gone.
      perhaps i'll start with moving the spiders back outside the house.  and maybe sweeping up cup o noodle remnants. maybe i will find the pieces of me there, tucked away under furniture and caught in the rugs. "seems to want to hurt this time just" is playing and i think im going to stare out into the backyard for awhile. its the perfect soundtrack. and i guess the other thing is that for me,i have to give myself the permission to be where i am. so here it is universe: i am sad. not ultimately, but sad just the same. and now im going to go work on that.

 

 

 

trust the universe.

even more so than usual, there is a lot i need to say that i can not really say. so if you dont like it when i am cryptic then you will really hate this.
   i have always believed in fate. and i can not tell you how many times i have told my litle mook when she is sad, that we have to trust the universe. i believe it. maybe it is something that just makes us feel better when something shitastic has happened. yet, there has to be trust. and now more than ever i need to believe in it.  some time ago i was with somebody that made me happy before i was ready to be happy. and when i say some time ago, i mean 7 years, or maybe 8. i can remember a few of the reasons that i didnt want him then, but barely, and possibly i am just romanticizing, but i can also very clearly remember that he was real, and at the time i didnt know how to accept that. these walls of mine are so intricate. and things happened and i said no thank you and then i said no and by the way f you. i was pretty shitty really.
     a couple of years ago there was this pilot for a tv show and the premise was: you have already met the one you are going to marry. now you just have to figure out who it was. i always thought that this one was the most likely candidate. i have also always known that i needed to apologize. in general i am a good person and im not usually the one to shit on someone. not usually, but in this case i was a fucker. but to apologize.... does the person want to hear it? will they be pissed off that you popped back in to their life? are they with someone now that will be pissed if you show? is it selfish to apologize in this case? and so even though i have thought about it, i never did it.but still i wondered about him.
     and then wa bam, the universe hit us both in the face, (or maybe i should say in the vagina) with a really unique way of reconnecting.
    the story of how that happened is freaking hysterical and should be told, but not now. not at this moment where i am so amused with the universe and how it works. so now we have seen each other and the apology was given and well received. lunch was had and although there is no possibility for any future, the connection was there. i could feel it. and i went home and i went directly to the letter he had given me. yes seven years ago and i went directly to it. it is the best letter i have ever received and although i had not read it in years i well remembered why it was important. and after i read it again this time around i am flooded with so many good things.
     im not really sure why because i can not have him and i am still in love with somebody else anyway. but the thing is that it shows how much he loved me. that is something i am not usually shown when I am with someone. this letter had a list of things that he loved about me. a whole list. not one of them was superficial. and so i guess it gives me hope. it serves now as a reminder that in the future i can no longer be the douche whisperer, thank you Thomas Wilkinson.and so right here when i had already told myself i would be on my own, i am given reasurance that i should do just that.
      tonight i decorated the christmas tree. i listened to Swooners and Crooners and i thought about the people I love. I thought about the boy that gave me the letter and i thought about the most recent boy whose company i would have loved during the holiday tradition, and remembered that most likely he wouldnt have wanted to be there with me anyway. and so thank you, again to the universe for showing me what it is that i should be. i am happy now, but i am still lonely, and i still wish.
i thought about my little egg when i pulled out the tea ornament he gave me from the first year at Kemp lane. i remember nichole and d and the way they included me in their christmas so i could feel more at peace. and of the cracker barrel guy that stella always stole. she loved it so. i miss her at christmas. i miss her every day.
    and im glad that i have hapiness right now. and im glad i am better with myself but still sometimes it is hard to go through some of it without. i am a little worried about christmas itself. i still can't pass the yummy wok without havng my heart burst. i am a little worried about what to do. then i remind myself that i put myself out there. that i was very clear and that it really isnt appropriate for me to say anything more. it has to be him. anna begins is on. ha ha universe, ha fucking ha.
       so i didnt want because i wasnt ready so long ago and now in the present i am reminded that someone wasnt ready for me.and it doesnt seem right. not at all. but i am so helped by this experince in my life. this amazing happening that serves it s purpose. remember to trust the universe, catherine, remember that it is there, always doing exactly what it should.