God bless the moon and God bless me...

So I am regressing.
SHIT!
I will, once again, blame PMS.
On the bright side, as I have mentioned to several people, I flew to the moon last night; TWICE.
(in a dream, of course)
I flew to the moon with Ray.

A Quick Note of Triumph

Let's see... where shall I start?
2 nights ago I was TOILETPAPER WOMEN! at a 'feed the needy' occasion.
(my father volunteers for this program that takes place every the first Sunday of every month)
Basically, the less fortunate of Fayetteville stand in line outside of a community center to get a number. Volunteers unload truckloads of goods (frozen chicken, canned goods, little Debbie Swiss rolls, *toilet paper*, etc.). Boxes are then put together and sent down and assembly line, filled along the way with various items.
Meanwhile, the underprivileged get a warm meal. I think we filled 160-ish boxes. After about 150 there was no more toiletpaper. I felt really bad.
-----
So after (Kerry, get ready for this one) I met LD's kids. Since all of there names start with C's... I will have to be clever in nicknaming them.
So here it goes; there are 13 year-old twins; A boy L and a girl A. Then there is a 15 year-old girl named H.
---
The twins were volunteers at the feeding function mentioned earlier. Other than being introduced, I did not actually speak with them. Yes, I am an asshole. I was busy, TP is necessary.
---
So I went over, with my father, to have dinner at LD's. The twins I took an immediate liking to. H wasn't home yet.
It occurred to me that these kids have no idea of many of the things that I was raised knowing, or found out by myself. They are all very good kids. It was explained to me that they don't have the "street smarts" that I acquired during early teenage years.
Of course I would not wish all that crap on them, or anyone.
Well, it was interesting and not bad.
So there you go, Kerry, I can hear you saying "You've got to be kidding me!"
Therefore, let me add to your amazement of my sanity.
-
On Sunday I spent the majority of the day with Kris, a friend of mine that I have known since preschool. After seeing a Anchorman, we went out to eat. Sitting at that table was the strangest thing
"Look at us pretending to be adults," I said
"Yea. I don't think we are doing a very good job."
Kris is the benchmark that all others to follow her have had to live up to. One of the most intelligent and somehow unbiased people I know, she maintains her sense of humor and matter-of-fact resolution that is a refreshment. In all the years I have known her, she has never let me down in any sense, perhaps merely by being herself despite adolescence which was so crippling to me. If I should someday have a daughter, I would hope to raise her to be like Kris, for I think that my shortcomings would make me an unfit role model (even if only in my own mind)
-
And so the day went and we laughed.
I am primarily writing this post to Kerry to ensure her that her parting advice to me, to reconnect with people, has not been in vain. Also, because I did not say a proper goodbye, I want to thank her for being such a wonderful influence in my life and a joy to spend Tuesday evenings with. For all the time, energy, and care that she invested in me I can only imagine what a magnificent mother she must be. In other words, thanks, and I have the full intention of making you proud both now and in the future.
---

 

l'amore sta perdonando

So I am trying to write again; from a different computer this time.
LD's computer to be exact
Seeing as she is this genuinely nice human being... I am thinking of coming up with a different (more understanding) nickname.

(Not that I am retiring from being a bitch or anything. I just think that I should take my anger out on someone more deserving.)

Most likely I won't survive in AR much longer- I love my father and all; its just not a healthy place for me to be.
I am not healthy in this place.

I ought to mention that we have been test driving cars... but I won't because there are none that I would actually want to drive every-fucking-day.
Luckily, I get to choose. So HA!

N and D made another offer on the same house since our first was completely ignored. They didn't say no, accept, or counter-offer.
They just went mute.
----
Part of me wants to think that I have no idea how to have a good relationship with my father. (and that I don't have the energy to try and figure it out)
I know that is bullshit, somewhat, because for a few... months (I am pathetic, whatever) I think that we did pretty well. So I am forced to come up with another excuse

Excuse for what?
For finding it so easy to fight with this person; instigate, react- just like old times.
All the while I know that I have no right to come back here after 3 years and try and change anything. I know this, very well.
So I don't try and change anything... exactly. I just complain.
Sick. Unhealthy. If nothing else, UNHELPFUL.
--
Its not just that I am getting to old for this bullshit; he is too.
Pathetic, yes, because I don't pity him- even if he has cancer.
I just look at him and see the same person that has fucked me over, emotionally and mentally, in the past.
But has he? Is there anything that he has done wrong that doesn't merit forgiveness?
- - - -
Stop: and if there is anything that he has done that doesn't merit forgiveness, what on my list of wrongs to other people will follow me into the afterlife?
*Reserving me a charming suana and fireplace in hell*
Because trust me, and I am the first to know, that nothing he has done can eclipse, even partially, the horrifying deeds (lies, hurt, abuse, etc.) that I have done to the people I claim(ed) to love.
Yes, that could be part of the reason I don't start my 12-step frenzy, asking to make amends:
what if they say no? Fuck off, you fucked me over. You deserve to die from drinking and drugs- that is, at best, what you should get.
But I know that wouldn't happen; because they will let me make amends. Because we are all getting to old to sentence each other to eternal damn nation.
- - -
So maybe, as far as I let myself know, I don't pity this man for having cancer
but if he should die: though it wouldn't make me end my own life, rest assure that it would kill part of me and make me even more cold, callous, and unforgivable than I already am.

Of course it true that you don't know what you have till its gone. I can't even imagine what it would do to me if I were to lose this person
Its all fun and games- negative strokes, ego states, etc. But we are getting older, me into adulthood and him into old age.
I would be tortured for the rest of my life;
Kerry, you would never be out of business- I would be in therapy even if I have to get there in my wheelchair.

remember for later

participation
how frustrated I get
.,mnhglkjdfhlkjsdhgljksdhgsd;jkfhg
FUCK
I thought this time would be different
If I try to write on this webpage, I will kill this keyboard

hole

I don't smoke in my house.
When I am here, I smoke in the house. No one cares.
Really, there is nothing better to do than sit and stir in a cloud of smoke.
MOTHER FUCKING BORED
I AM SO FUCKING BORED ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY AND I HAVE NOT BEEN HERE 24 HOURS YET. IT IS DISGUSTING.
anger anger anger
I am so angry and frustrated
 
I do not have the sanity for this kind of shit.

The Fabric of Our Lives

An offer has been made. Most likely it won't work out (circumstances with the sale of my current house) but its a start
Tomorrow AR; tomorrow evening. LD will accompany my father to the airport to pick me up
He explained to me that she and I can smoke a cigarette together while he waits for my suitcases
He also explained (said):
how she is real nice when you get to know her (ME: uh huh, I know dad, I'm not saying she's not)
how, yes, she is bubbly and peppy, but he needs that right now (HIM: I mean look at my life, Kel; she makes me laugh at myself. I feel so fortunate to have her.)
----
Remind me again why the fuck I am doing this?
----
Him: she wants to get to know you
Me: right away?
Him: YES! *good lord, what did you think? she would let you get unpacked first? NO! Fuck that! You are a guest in this house.
----
He did say how he is fortunate to have me as a daughter and he is proud.
What-the-fuck-ever
 
I guess I was thinking that I would have a place where I could really, really sleep.
And I would work my ass off and be okay about it
Now I feel like I am being subtly beaten to death with a 20 pound weight
Of course they were kind enough to put it inside a 200 thread-count Nautica pillowcase
 
Like I have said all along; I will go. I will enjoy myself, I will get along with everyone and
SMILE
SMILE
SMILE
but of course I will get the satisfaction of knowing that I am treating people nicely instead of like shit (like usual); think acquiring good Karma
I will also get the satisfaction of having a mean sense of humor in the form of an inner monologue- the can take the girl out of the asshole, but they can't take the asshole out of the girl
Actually- I am not sure that saying applies to this situation. Frankly I don't know what the fuck I meant by that one in the first place.
 
But you can be damn sure of one thing: there is no way in HELL that I will give up 8 months of hard fucking work. If in any way, shape, or form my sobriety is jepordized...
---
INTERMISSION: we are trying to look past the fact that my father has a mini fridge full of alcohol in his (and therefore MY) office. However, I am not above using that as ammunition to get a plane ride out of Right-The-Fuck-Away IF NECESSARY
---
    ... I will have absolutely no problem going back on probation for battery:
            a) should it be aimed at the guilty party and:
            b) should that party be my father, brother, or LD
But my brother is not that stupid.
For some reason, though, my father got the idea that he is the parental figure in this equation
Parent + alcoholic child + ALCOHOL= bad mother-fucking-idea
 
I will admit that this could Possibly, Subconsciously be a way of disciplining daddy dearest
Kind of like... a rat trap?
Have your cake and eat it to?
 
Its true; this is an oppurtunity to learn. I guess for everyone involved.
 
OH PLEASE! GIVE ME A FUCKING NIGHT TO UNPACK MY SHIT AND GO "OH OK, I USED TO LIVE HERE; I KNOW YOU. GLAD TO BE HERE: THIS IS OKAY!"
20 pound weight. Nautica pillowcase: standard size- not the sham
Wouldn't want to get blood on the sham! Pillowcases? A dime a dozen
 
The truth? I honestly don't think that I would be able to go back to living in the same town as him. Am I being bribed? ABSOLUTELY; these people give a fuck about me, certainly unconditionally as their many sacrifices have shown- I would be insane to leave.
To do what?
Smoke with daddy's girlfriend.
 
But I will get over it and have fun
smile
smile
smile.
 
You know why? And no, its not because 'oh I love him so'. I'm sure its a factor, but really:
Because I can, I am capable of doing this. I NEED to do this; it one in a long line of events that started around November 19, 2003 (I say around for personal reasons)
And I know I need to grow up. I need to do this.
 
 

For Sale, Air Conditioner, Betty Boop

N and I have been doing nothing aside getting the house ready to sale.
There is a sign in the yard
There is a lockbox on the door
No turning back now
Luckily we have a beautiful house in a sought-after town; only 2 years old.
My father isn't too excited that I am staying in California instead of moving back closer to him. He thinks I am being bribed
A lot of the work that is yet to be done will be completed after Sunday; when I leave for AR.
I know this post seems really... stuffy? <--- unwitty; reminds me of a conversation I might have with my, oh I don't know, GRANDMOTHER. So for that I am sorry. I don't want this blog to be a piece of crap (meaning what I think is crap).
-----
So Sunday; that's when I leave. Funny story?
I am going back to Arkansas, in the summer- read 92 degrees+ humidity= 101 degrees
This is something that I can adjust to, considering that the majority of the summers I have lived through have been spent in that fucking town, in that fucking house.
What I can't adjust to, and hopefully won't have to: no air conditioner
My father's house isn't primal; it does have an A/C
However, the pipes are clogged (or something)
What exactly does that mean?
It means that when my sissy-ass brother can't take the heat, everytime he turns on the A/C the downstairs will start to flood.
Water will build up
Carpet will be replaced
BY ME
 
So what's the justice?
There are 3 rooms that are taking the major damage of the water buildup:
1. The den: *scenerio* lifting a pool table to pull out/replace carpet. Not too much flooding here
2. Workshop: power tools, etc.- no one actually goes in this room most of the time
3. My brother's room; the room that is in the shittiest position *JUSTICE*. Then again the fact that it is already a pile of shit might take away from the realization that it is FUCKED UP even more than usual.
 
Seeing as my father is out of town up until 24 hours before I get there, getting the A/C repaired has been added to my list of 'Things To Do"
And I'm not even there yet
 
Don't get me wrong- I love work and I love that house. I actually look forward to kicking some major ass.
Living in a house with my brother and father (without a return flight set) is somewhat like living in a preschool; you can scream and kick and tell them to behave: they just get joy out of watching you be pissed off.
 
So I have a new cell phone that takes pictures and plays polyphonic ringtones.
Betty Boop (my old phone cover had her on it) has officially retired.
A few hours after getting it I got the nerve (and handbook) to delete almost all my old phone numbers.
I'm talking like... 86% of the numbers.
----
And I knew it to be true; I am clean.
----
 
So I am pretty much ready (mentally) to go back for the summer
Tomorrow there is more stuff to do with the house- the relator is going to take pictures, etc.
Saturday D, N, and I will go back to R.C. to look at more houses.
Hell, we might even buy one
 
I left a nice message for my father earlier. I know he is worn out. I'm glad I am able to be a good daughter this time around.
----
 
 
 

Me.

Hello, my name is Kelly.

I am finally putting a picture of me up here. Yikes, I feel so exposed.

Beauty

Dream Bastards

Well an offer is being finalized and sent so it looks like I will, in fact, be moving. How about that?
The Orkin man just came and sprayed the house. My dog didn't like him too much.
"It's a beautiful day outside. You're not out at the pool or anything?" he said.
Very perceptive.
"Neither are you." *grabbing my dog and handing him back him clipboard. "Here, I'll trade you."
"Yea, but I have an excuse."
"Ehh, yes, that's true."
-----
2 nights ago I called up N on the phone in the middle of the night; I was asleep and still competent enough to dial a phone in the dark. I take some sort of pride in that.
When she asked me where I was calling from it sort of hit me that I was sleeping and I woke up a bit.
Brilliant.
I felt like an ass in the morning.
-----
Last night I dreamt that my cousin was smoking a joint in front of me and doing a bad job of keeping the weed inside. So after I told him to smoke that shit outside I called up Ray; I told her that I had some weed that I wasn't going to smoke so could she please come clean the mess up? "Its all yours if you get here before my cousin gets back".
My other dream, that I remember, I was an architect or something like that. Hmph.

I have a very interesting dream world. Of course everyone dreams every night; my dreams however seem to stay around me in a funk for quite some time before I ignore them out of existence. I will always be acutely aware that there is a piece of my head swimming with weird shit that I can't get to. BASTARDS! All my little cells in there are smoking weed and laughing at me, I just know it.
"Sober bitch! Haha!"
They get to fuck with me via my dreams; and they take the opportunity, every night.
A lot of the time they offer me drugs
Different drugs, different company, different ways.
Sometimes they trick me and make me think I am just drinking soda and then it is reveled that I just drank vodka or some froofy pink drink.
Other times its my former friends, the ones that I used to use with; the ones that I still care about.
They will do drugs and try to offer me some.
Almost all the time I make it out sober- I say no.
But I still protect them; leading them away from the cops, giving them a place to stay.
God only knows why.

If there is no threat to my sobriety, the DBs (dream bastards) like to reunite me with ex-boyfriends, make me fall off at a waterpark, impregnate me
Nothing is off limits.
I used to have a recurring dream that had to do with my father raping me. Thankfully I haven't had that one since I was 13-ish.

I have a little book that is suppose to explain all the meanings of that sort of shit. However, it is not well put together. Apparently most women's dreams take place in familiar, indoor places.
For me; that is such crap. BULLSHIT! Pure BULLSHIT.
The DBs are men- stoner men; most at least.
-------

There will be many, many posts when I am back in Arkansas.
Mainly because
a) there is nothing else to do
b) there is so much to make fun of
My posts have been few and far between the past few weeks; mostly pretty crappy at that. Too bad!

I think its time I put a few pictures up here!!!

And the countdown continues

What's new? Well N, D, and I went to R.C. to look at houses and saw some promising stuff. Most of the shopping will go on without me.
Matt dropped by today. N told him I wasn't home. It was a mutual decision.
Obviously I haven't been writing lately (lack of.. uhh). Honestly I attribute it to the hormone fluctuation caused by my starting birth control. What fun!
There are all these little preparations before I go to see my dad; I make it a major priority to make him (and everyone else there) see that I am doing just fucking fine out here. This time I just don't have the energy.
So the countdown continues. And of course everything will be fine and I will have fun, even if its only in retrospect.
I am not dreading it, really. Its just nice to have something to degrade. And this way it doesn't actually effect anyone; not there health or self-esteem or anything.
So congads to me!

Offer.

Well, they are formulating an offer.
(which means N, D, and I will spend a day this weekend looking at real estate in the Inland Empire.
That's right; I am going to be a 909-er.

The only bad thing is that I am going to be out of town right in the middle of this whole SHEBANG. Of course I can always just stay but I am not going to do that.
I will go see daddy dearest. And that is just fine with me.
Woohoo.

Uhh, I dont have much to say.
I started learning Italian (via CD-ROM). And it is fun- to have something to do, to be learning something.
I love it.
The only problem; cup and saucer.
That is so fucking hard to say.
:o)

I'm sure I will write again soon; I've had too much coffee so not right now.

K

Just so you know

If nothing else, I want to say that I did go out.
I sat on top of a fence and watched the fireworks
And then I made fun of people on TV at the Macy's day parade
So... there

More... tomorrow?

like,
-K

is anyone home?

Lonely? At the moment, yes.
Sometimes these past few days I felt like crying. But I don't. Why would I? The only person I have to blame for anything is me. And I know that.
So I don't cry.
People knock.
I hear them yell.
"Is anyone home?"
But in reality there is no one else. Which is exactly how I made it.
A self-fullfilling prophecy; everything thus far.
Yes, I am sad. Today. But I am not pretending that it will fuck up my entire life and everything that is still to come.
I don't do that much anymore.
This is today and it has nothing to do with my future.
Of course I will write it down on my list;
"List of Things to Change"

And I am listening to a song that has been stuck in my head all day.
Radiohead: Just

And the lyrics fall on me. I have had this song since I moved to California and it has always fit, in different ways.
But now it really goes on.

It gets me down to think about leaving here. I have a problem with getting rid of things. I don't have a problem with discarding things, people, places, time.
But completely throwing it away... well, that means it never happened. No reference. No forwarding address.
And knowing that I had no use for it. Oh that gets to me.
You didn't need it in the first place.
What the fuck DO I need, then?

So I will leave here. And the feeling in my stomach will fade.
But I will always compare the past to what comes.
It will never be thrown away.
Only careful dispatched- in a drawer, under something else; in a journal.
In the notes that we wrote
In the time that we spent
Something will be lost
I will always be sitting in a room with people, friends or what not
And I will be thinking of them.
Because? Because no one will ever be like them.
Maybe they can say the same about me.

I hear the fireworks, but I don't know if I will go out. I don't know what I am avoiding. It would be worse to sit in here... maybe.
But... ?
Because someone is having fun. And it isn't me.
But I won't cry.
The only person I have to blame is me.

Spender or Waster / Fireworks for Freedom

There is no argument against the fact that I spend too much money. I feel bad, really I do. But I do so in a fretting-while-still-spending way (which is horrible).
But there is good news.
(not about money, sorry)
There might indeed be a move coming up in the near future.
(yes, I am talking about the future because it is a lot more promising than thinking about the past)

Which would be an easy thing to do right now considering... what?
That a year ago tomorrow I would have been lighting fireworks with Ray at one of her aunt's houses; us sneaking away to smoke some pot... and pulling it off.
(I'm sure some people suspected, hell the select few probably knew)
I was probably unhappy at the time (as is my way)
But looking back I remember how much fun it was (as is my way)

Dare I even go back two years ago?
Two years ago tomorrow night I would have been sitting on a wall outside my house that divides the street from a bike trail and train tracks...
I would be sitting there with J (from here on referred to as TBJ for "the bad J") and having a pretty damn good time.
I wasn't miserable (I would wait till later)
I was watching fireworks from five different places going off in intervals. And it was great.
To be sitting there. With someone. Who is having a good time as well.

So I am remembering all this crap just in time to make my present-day (actually future-day) independence day seem like *poof* a pile of shit.
Ironically, now that I think about it, it is the perfect 4th of the 6th month:
It is Independence Day. And that is exactly what it shall represent to me; the first time that I have been free.
Free of them (and them free of me- I won't even kid myself)
Free of that world.
Free of the drugs.
And really what could be better? A day to say that this year has not and will not be like the rest. That this day, and maybe this "move", will close a chapter of my life.
Meaning a new one will begin.
But,
to tell the truth,
I think it already has. :o)

Fireworks for freedom. Its a beautiful thing.

With love and hope (and returning sanity),
-K
------------

(I think I will be writing again this week, otherwise I will just stay wrapped up in my down comforter watching Comedy Central)

My response to ACS heart condition medicine commercials

Lately I have been... not looking forward to going back to Arkansas to stay with my father. Mainly because it will require dealing with his girlfriend and her children, I think.
Also, for about 7 months I have had a very good relationship with my father; I can get along with him. I felt that both of us had changed.
Recently I have also thought that this was not the case in light of some behaviors my dad has begun to display again.
So I tried to put a pin-point on why things changed in the first place: what was it that set off a completely new direction for a happy and hopeful relationship between me and my father?
About 2 months ago I actually sent him a letter; a heart-felt letter- packed full of insecurities I have in my life, etc. And there was no part of me that thought I would be judged incorrectly or a part that thought he would expose my secrets to his girlfriend (and/or anyone else). I wrote in the letter that I didn't want him to reply, he didn't even have to verify that he received it.
No pressure. I trust you. I love you. But I know you can see that.
Of course it would make sense to say that the relationship improved when I got sober. You could also say it improved when I found out he had cancer.
Both of those things are true.
More specificly I came across a question:
what if he dies?
would I really want to be plagued by the guilt of not giving it my all... if he died. What if I died?
Of course it is easy not to worry, not to deal with, not to make things better when you feel that you have an enormous amount of time- at least 10, 15, 30 years to wake up and give a shit before someone's heart gives out or body gives in...
or even worse- someone's heart gives up.
I know that sounds fucking stupid, but really: how would it hang with you to know that someone you loved committed suicide; and maybe if you had given a little effort you could have known them just well enough to...
be there for them? have them confide in you in time?
And when you think about that- family and death- things look a little different.
Like they should
So he had cancer, and what if he died?

At the moment I am feeling a little bit like "and..."
I can't really see the actions taking place, let alone the things that would come after.

But I know that when I found out he had cancer it was...
This is my father. Winslow, taking pictures, walks in the snow, learning how to shoot, I am a daughter.
In my family, of all my relatives I am the only female born with my last name that still has my last name. And that started to seem like a big deal.
Maybe if I get married I will keep my last name.

Of course there are 2 worlds in my relationship(s) with anyone: the way I view it, and the way it is. What's inbetween... a mess.
But that is what it is.

And I am trying not to get mad at myself or explode or anything.
I am trying to get through writing this without deleting it because I have done that too much lately, and maybe what I am putting down will matter. Later?

So I know I want to do better before I die.
And I know I want to make things better before they die.

And it sounds so stupid and its not how I was thinking it would come out. Which, of course, makes me feel inadequate etc.

That's it. I mean, that's all. That's all I can do for now.
There is nothing in me that can do any better.

Happy Rabbit Rabbit Day

happy rabbit rabbit day. that's all.

-k