I suppose you could call this page a cross between a Rant fest and a journal... a place where you can read about all the stuff that's on my mind and how things are going, plus any mindless drivel I can think of.
Oh yeah.. though it seems slightly out of place I'll also use this page to list trivia about what's going on around me as I write this since it'll be the most updated section. (Just because I like to be a bit different...)
I have not been the happiest Perky lately.
To be perfectly honest, I've been downright Mopey.
Yeah.. I've done a decent job of hiding it, but to be perfectly honest... I've cried a LOT over the last few weeks... for lots of reasons.
I guess it all started when I got dumped about a week and a half ago... granted it wasn't a long relationship but hey... whenever someone you like says that they don't want to see you anyore, it's going to hurt, right? Besides... August is always the worst month for me.... first off... my birthday's in it.. not that anyyone (including my family) ever remembers, and the first of September is the anniversary of my father's death... making the whole month of August one hell of a lead in to the memories... I suppose it's fitting I should start the month by getting dumped...
He was the first guy I ever trusted instantly... I'm not sure if I should regret that...
So I won't.
I was thinking about the whole situation two days ago when my friend Duckie called (yes, nicknamed after Pretty In Pink) after a four month absence just to say hi.
We started talking about what we'd been up to and of course, my recent dumpee status came up. For whatever reason, he wanted me to tell him the whole story... from how I met the guy to how it ended.
When I finished, he psaused and said
"I'm envious of you."
I got a bit upset and asked him why he should be envious of someone who just got dumped on their ass and his response floored me and left me speechless. (A rare thing indeed.)
"It's not that you were dumped... though that's part of it. It's that you're so alive. You're out there, in the world, having experiences, seeing things, meeting people... you're actually *alive*, which is more than I can say for myself. I just sit here in my house and watch TV, maybe go on a date occasionally, but I never really open up to any one and I never really do anything that could get me hurt. I'm envious because you're not just living.... you're actually *alive*... and that's something I can only wish I could be."
Again, I was speechless.
He had to go shortly after that but when I woke up Sunday afternoon.. I just felt this huge ball of enegy inside me... like al the beauty and fabuluosness in the world was centered in *me*. I felt like I could do anything, be anything...
I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, really... I logged on, chatted through ICQ with a couple friends, made plans to hang out with a friend who'll be moving soon...
And then it was time to get ready for the club.
I got myself prettied up in my new dress (long.. such a departure!), my ever falling apart but much beloved fishnet gloves, nicest heels, then looked into the mirror and decided something was missing.
I fumbled through the closret where I keep all my clubwear, rejecting hats, purses, and assorted other additions before spotting a long forgotten white feather boa on the bottom.
I threw it on and took another glance.
Close.. but still not quite right.
Out of complete sillyness, I wandered into the bathroom and put on my little rhinestone tiara. For some reason... it *felt* right.
So there I am.. dancing happily around my house singing all sorts of stuff at the top of my lungs... running around like a crazed Banshee, waving the boa behind me as I miraculously managed to turn corners and go up and down stairs in three inch heels. Acting like a complete idiot, but really enjoying it.
I get a call from Bryan... one of my closest friends and the one who was driving tonight... Turns out his friend Eric... who made fun of me all throughout high school ffor being ugly, a freak, a waste, etc., etc., etc., was going to be coming with us.
Eric had not seen me since graduation over three years ago... and I'm not just whistling the Notre Dame fight song when I say that I was a *very* different person then. I wasn't too thrilled, but I figured I could just go off by myself and leave him to wallow in his own meanness.'
But when they showed up... the bitterness seemed to lower incredibly. He looked exactly the same... but I could tell he didn't think the same about me.
I got to the club not long after it opened and found my favorite regulars right away. I don't really kow how it hapened, but I was completely aware of how alive I was.. and I knew I had Duckie to thank.
I had an awesome time. I danced with as much of my heart as I ever have before.. completely not caring about how many people were on the floor (I'm usualy uncomfortable if there aren't many others there) or how silly I might look to others.
I even talked to Eric and got his prepie Navy boy self on the floor a few times.
I spotted a guy I'd met the week before. A guy I'd dubbed "Dances With Lips" because of his unbelieveable kissing skill. After much perkiness.. we started talking and I made a comment about how, for over five years.. I didn't let myself sing, dance, or even really smile.
I ended up giving the short version of my life story... how I was beaten, I was mentally abused, I was raped, yadda yadda yadda... he gave me a firm hug and I was a bit shaky as I left with my friends.. I told them I had to do something really fast.
I ran around a few times in front of the club... waving the boa behind me and singing "La la la" out of tune, but with a pure spirit that I like to think made it tolerable. Bryan made a comment about my being happy, or something having gone well... and it hit me.
I was purely happy to be alive.
I felt as beautiful as the stars in the sky, the grass on the ground... I felt comepletely at peace with everything that had ever hurt me.
I felt redeemed.... like I'd been reborn overnight with a comepletely new slate and all the greatness this life can offer just waiting at my feet. None of the old hurts mattered anymore. All that mattered was that I was ME, and I was happy beyond words.
I don't know exactly *how* it happenned.. but I can definately say a lot of it had to do with Duckie's words of wisdom... Good or bad.. I'm alive, and I'm getting through everything life throws at me a stronger, more sympathetic, and more loving person as a result. No boyfriend? Who cares? I like myself so much right now... it suddenly doesn't matter that my fucked up extherapist used to chastise me for being single... I have plenty of options and I can pursue any of them if I like. No job? Well... I'll just hit the pavement and find something... because damnit, I rule.
I am a walking miracle, full of the glory of Life and complete in myself.
My anxieties over my upcomming 21st birthday have dissappeared. For some reason.... I think this might be the year that cuts off the cycle of bad birthdays that's plagued me for twelve years now... making this the thirteenth..
In the car... I told the two of them about a song I'd been thinking a lot about lately.. "Town Called Malice", by The Jam... the song starts out with "Better stop dreaming of the quiet life 'cause it's the one we'll never know..." and really reminds me of where i live...
I live in "the ghetto"... though it's not *quite* as bad as most would think... I have become accostumed to the sight of police cars... everyone here seems so hopeless... like machines waiting to outlive their usefulness. A collection was held recently to send the body of a young man killed in a drive by back to Mexico so he could be burrried next to his family... and up to tonight.. I've always been kind of afraid that I'd never leave here...
Afraid that I'm doomed to live forever "on the wrong side of the tracks", with little hope of acheiving better.
But now... I don't. I *know* I'll get out. I'll be the ulcky one. The one that gets out the right way... I'm going to make something of myself. I'm going to reach for the stars and pluck them from the sky. Because I want it, and I deserve it. I've become acoustummed to having to work for the things that matter and I'm not afraid to just go for it. I'm not going to be a slave to the soil that grew me...
After I got home... I changed from my dress, stockings, and heels into boring PJs... the boa, gloves, and various items of jewelery put back in their places... cranked "Town Called Malice" as loud as I could at two am without inspiring gunfire... logged on... read through a bunch of posts... and let the events of the day sink in. Relaxed, happy, content, and fully aware of what an awesome, beautiful, creative, and all together goood person I've been allowed to become.
So here I sit... in grey Snoopy PJs, Tweety Bird slippers, my hair tied in a messy pigtail...
...but I'm still wearing the tiara. ;-)
The Jam, Collection and Greatest Hits
The movies that burned the VCR:
The foodstuffs that feuled me:
None... I feuled myself on my own will to be me
What am I wearing at the moment I'm typing all this garbage?
Grey PJs with Snoopy skateboarding on the front, Tweety Bird slippers, and a rhinestone tiara. =]
And the litle refinements?
The remnants of the makeup I applied before hitting the club... (It's about four in the morning as I write this...) red lipstick, black iquid to powder eyeliner, foundation, powder, and Colors fragrance.
Number of days without any new messages on my answering machine:
About one half. ;-)
The Books I've been reading:
Between books right now.... but I have a sneakking suspicion I'm going to be picking up Anne of Green Gables and doing the yearly read of it soon...