Come to your senses....

Thursday night my life came and circled back 360 degrees to almost exactly 10 years ago. In November of 2003, I had my first kiss and my first date. Mind you, I was in middle school so as far as I and everyone else was concerned, he was my first boyfriend. Two weeks later, we break up and soon after that he comes out as gay. (Cue Gay Boyfriend by Hazzard). It took a while, but I learned to laugh and make jokes about this non-straightforward start to dating. "I was so good looking I turned him straight but then a hot guy walked by us" etc. Oh and if I had to identify with a fairy tale, it would be "The Ugly Duckling" because in high school I became the swan.
In high school, I had guys interested in me. Guys thought I was pretty and I made friends. I thought those dark, lonely middle school days were behind me. Then I fell madly in love with J. If you go back to the early days of this blog, back when it was still called "Living Under A Rock" you'll find various posts about him. I thought I had found the love of my life. A large part of me believes he still is the love of my life, the one that got away, because it's hard to believe that I would willingly give up so much of my life again. I could go on and on about him to try and give you a glimpse of how I felt but maybe I'll just publish some of the poems I wrote then.
Then there was MadDogBV and I think that relationship is fairly well chronicled here as well. It'll suffice to say that J and MadDog were as far away from my first relationship as I ever got. They were based on common interests, genuine affection and concern, and sexual attraction. Let's face it, I was 16 when I first became interested in J, 18 when we got together and put serious effort into making the relationship work despite the war in Iraq, 19 when I lost my virginity to him and I was 20 and in my 3rd year of college when I got together with MadDog, sex was going to enter into the relationship at some point. Sex was something that played into my previous relationships but took the back seat because I wasn't ready for it.
Lastly, there was Frank Sinatra. Not a real relationship because it was based pretty much solely on sex but I fell for him. To this day, I'm not sure why since he's spinning his wheels in a small town, he can't get a job, he was a borderline alcoholic, not very good looking, very weird, and he only paid attention to me when I was in his bed. No, I'll tell you what it was: he could sing Frank Sinatra extraordinarily well, he's a talented artist (acting, directing, singing, and lighting design) and he's truly creative. Everything he works on he wants it to be perfect and show his effort. He doesn't want to half ass anything but does when someone else is in control and( in his mind) doesn't want anything changed. I loved his fire and passion and talent. Eventually, he did start taking me out on something that resembled dates and then he'd do something or say something that would send whatever progress we had made in making the relationship grow back to square one. He knew I loved him; I would tell him and when I would try to help him as a professional friend (telling him about a job) he'd wipe his ass with it and not listen to me. (Cue We Found Love by Rhianna/ Come to Your Senses from Tick Tick Boom). It was tumultuous to say the least, but I got some kind of sick pleasure from it because every time I'd say that I was ending it, he would, with random precision, say or do just the right thing that would compel me to forgive him. I graduated and got a job and moved away, but I still loved him. In February I decided to end it and didn't talk to him for almost 2 months (go me). He did text me for Valentine's Day but I couldn't brush it off as a mass text because it had my name in it and I tersely replied "Same to you." Just as it was finally getting easier, he texts me saying that he's been an asshole. I ask him if that's supposed to be some of apology and he replies that it's the best he could do and I told him not to waste my time.  I was talking to a mutual friend, A and she told me that she had been talking to Frank Sinatra on Facebook the day he texted me and she told me that he wanted to reconcile with me and he tied it to the rock musical "Rooms A Rock Romance" because the male lead was basically him and his life and the icing is the lead female and I have the same name. So, April 1st we had a long conversation where I got to grill his ass and he admitted to using me for sex and attention but it wasn't just my attention for himself, it was the attention our relationship got from other people. He wasn't making out with me in front of half of the people in our college because he was proclaiming his love for me, it was to start gossip and make himself look good. The ugly, weird outcast guy making out with this really pretty girl and leaving with her. We decided to be friends.
Now, this is the climax. I texted him the other night to find out how "Rooms" went, since it was opening up last weekend. He told me that it was interesting but didn't want to go into details because he had a "snuggle date". Ok, fine. The next day I text him asking if he was going to tell me about this date so that I could live vicariously through him or if I was going to have to use my imagination. When he finally does text back he asks me if I remember the dancer from the night we went to this bar to watch his movie. No, I reply but then I remember the gay guy in the corset. Turns out this gay guy was actually a girl who wants to transition to a guy, goes by "Charles" was in Frank's production of "Death of a Salesman" as "Bernard" but she/he is bi! And Frank is "intrigued" by Charles and they've been taking turns staying at each other's place for the past week and a half. And Charles has a girlfriend who lives in Canada (Cue My Girlfriend Who Lives in Canada from Avenue Q) so Frank, Charles, and Miss Canada are in a poly-amorous relationship. First of all, all that identity just fucks with my mind, it took me a little while to get it straight. It's not that he's found someone else that hurts, it's.... who it is. If I look at is as "He's scraping the bottom of the barrel" it begs the question "What am I?" Clearly, I'm not his type because he likes tall women with big boobs and Charles has bigger tits than A and she's like a 34 D. Yes, it makes me feel worthless, like I'm not good enough for him but who gives him moral support? Me. Who encourages him? Me. Who tries to help him find a job? Me. Who believes in him? Me. Who sees beyond his antics and strangeness and sees the talent and potential? Me. It's me, always has been, since the day I met him, I've had faith in him.
So now, ten years later I have come back full circle. But not in the kind of full circle where everything plays itself out exactly the same way as if nothing happened in between the first time and the second time, but the kind that is merely uncanny. This second time around bears the marks of the strange, the absurd, the so impossible it must be true that comes with having a past. It's not a stand alone event, it's a culmination of the past ten years of my dating life events that ended in this. (Cue Don't Bother by Shakira)
Eventually I'll laugh about this. It's so outrageous one can't help but laugh, right? Maybe now that I've finished this cycle of my life, I'll move onto the next one and that one will be more awesome and not nearly as dramatic.

The past two weeks.....

What do you do when you love your job but hate the city you live in? Sure, I work for a large company that has several locations across the country so transferring isn't really a problem. But what happens when you become attached to the people you work with? Not romantically and it's still a little too early to call them friends, but nonetheless a kind of bond has been formed. If I leave, I'll leave behind this enchanting show and the cast of people who work it. I loved the show from the first time I saw it, but now that I've worked with the people and gotten to know them a little bit, even if the other locations have the same show, it won't be the same. The chemistry among the performers will be different, they will be different people with different names and different personalities. I've already established a working relationship with them and I can tell that a few of the performers really like me and know that will do my best to cater to their needs.
So what do I do? Do I leave this city and transfer someplace a little closer to home after my contract and lease end six months from now? Or do I stick to my original plan of living here for a couple of years and seeing where I go from there? It seems silly to stay in an environment that I hate just for a group of people and a show, but that's how much I love them. I don't know if they see how much I care but I tell them that I really do love the show. Just going there makes me forget about how lonely I am sometimes. If I'm having a bad day, all I need to do is walk by the birds that are used in the show and instantly I feel better. It's really hard to feel sad when as I am walking by a bird goes "ooOOOooo". Yes, I feel flattered when a bird compliments me.
Besides the show, I do enjoy most of the tasks and requirements of my job. Again, it's not the most glamorous job in the world, but it's the first step of my career. Do I feel like my bosses hate me? Yes, I do. But I keep on doing what I need to do because what else can I do?
I don't know what happened, but the past couple of weeks have been downright miserable. Maybe I was just picking up on everybody's stress and internalizing it. Or maybe I said something that offended someone and no one had the decency to tell me about it and gave me the high school silent/alienation treatment. Or maybe it was all in my head and I only imagined that no one was talking to me. I remained almost dead silent for two weeks. The only things I said were "What do you want me to do next?" and other such comments pertaining to work. But I didn't converse socially. Even at lunch I remained pretty quiet too. Was I in the doghouse for something? I just felt so isolated. I'd go home and fall asleep. I wasn't eating because I didn't have an appetite. I kept telling myself "Just get through this day". Then my supervisor tells me that my boss was saying that a number of people were not working fast enough and not being productive enough and that I wasn't the only one, but my name came up a lot. What the hell? I was constantly asking for things to do and I was the one that was sent to run around, and I was the one that was sent to find things; what more could I possibly do? I was on my way to lunch when she told me that. When I got to the cafeteria, I got a little bit of some kind of macaroni salad and went to a place where I was almost certain to be alone and I cried. What more could I do? I was doing everything in my power to stay out of trouble, be a good employee, and earn at the very least a decent recommendation. All that was quickly blowing up in my face. Of course they weren't specific as to what I was or wasn't doing so I accepted it and continued working. When I went back to work, I held my composure enough to ask for my next task. What could I do?

You would hope at some point in time  all the high school drama and bullshit would end. That people would grow up and simply talk to each other when there was a disagreement and rationally come to a conclusion. I'm beginning to understand that will probably never happen. I don't know what happened, but from one day to the next everything returned to normal. Maybe it was high stress levels. I did wear my evil eye bracelet to work a couple of times and MadDogBV did order an evil eye pendant for me. I swear, the day I wore that bracelet, everything returned to normal. Maybe somebody really was giving me the evil eye.
But now that I get to work with my beloved show for the next week, and I got to see it 3 times in 3 days last week, I know nothing can hurt me.

A New Start

Hey everybody, I am now moved in to my new apartment and have been working at my new job for about a week and a half now. I now live 1,300 miles away from home and I love it. I love having my own four walls that I'm paying for. I live under my rules and I don't have to listen to anyone telling me what to do.
It wasn't that easy to move though. I had to pack up my stuff and leave home. That wasn't so bad. I've packed up my stuff for four years when I went to college. Emotionally, it felt the same; after all, my work contract is only valid for the next ten months. I still haven't quite figured out what the next step is, but it will come in time. The drive was long and boring though. Through four states, the scenery was the same. We did, however, stop in one of my favorite vacation spots for lunch. Little did I know then that sitting on my ass for basically 10 hours for two days was going to be the easy part. I spent the majority of the time texting my friends, talking to my mom who was helping me move, and flipping through the radio stations to find the R&B stations for my mom. She was the driver so she controlled the radio. Of course we stopped and took all the mandatory state line pictures.
So we get to my new home town and we are driving in circles...literally. The city has two major highways that circle the city with a bunch of  crooked semi spokes which are other highways. I learned that I do not like circles! As we're trying to navigate the city in order to find used furniture shops, running errands to get me settled in, etc. I swear to you I could never remember if I saw a store coming in one direction or going back in the other or really where I had seen it.
One day as we are driving all around town, we were robbed. My laptop, with all my pictures, my webcam, the letters from my boyfriend and my mom's camera and camcorder were stolen. We checked the hotel, praying that we had left the stuff in the room, we went back to the places we had been to the day before to no avail. We weren't even sure when we had been robbed. It had to be somewhere we had spent a long time in. The next day, as we're moving into my apartment, we realize the extent of the robbery. My CDs, a box with my towels, blankets, and a pillow, a duffel bag with my fuzzy bathrobe, my brand new Converse, and my favorite hoodie had also been stolen. I was kind of able to deal with the laptop being stolen because I had burned all the vacation pictures on to CDs and those were safely at home. It was the theft of my CDs that really made me break down and cry. It felt like all the things that identified me had been stolen. It felt like a violation. I'm just thankful my digital camera and phone had been in my purse.
I know these are material things that can easily be replaces, but they are my things. Things I had emotional attachment to. Most of my CDs were gifts from friends, families, ex lovers. My music probably tells you more about me than any 5 page essay about me could. All the things that were stolen had memories attached to them, some tangible, some not. My kitchen utensils don't have nearly as much personality and my imprint as my laptop or even my blankets. Sorry to be crude, but do you know how many times  my ex and I had sex on the blankets that were in one of the boxes? On top of that, my aunt made them for me for Christmas. Yes, it's just two pieces of fleece knotted together, but she took the time to make them for me.
After that, I seriously doubted my decision to move. And then doing the numbers for my budget scared me. I would have just enough to pay off all my living expenses and put some money into savings but not a whole lot to play with. As in, money to go out, eat dinner out, or allow myself an impulse buy.
I know I made these choices. I chose to go into the entertainment industry. Actually a friend of mine is impressed this has panned out for me. I did feel that I had used up all my karma points to get this job. Of course something bad had to happen.
Sam did send me Casablanca, Abbey Road, and Animals and my uncle bought me a new laptop. In general, I do feel like my life is  balancing out and getting on a more even keel. In another post, I'll tell you more about my job.
Until then, stay well dear Readers.
Love,
Maverick

The Chasm

Before me stood a great chasm. As I contemplated how to cross it, a witch appeared right before my eyes and handed me a potion.
"Drink this and you'll get across."
Seeing no reason not to distrust the witch, I uncorked it and drank. I felt a sharp pain, first in my head, then down my body. I imagined this is what a dry, parched earth must feel when it starts to crack. Then I feel myself being lifted high above the ground and across.
When my vision finally clears and all the pain is gone I look down and see one half of me on one side of the chasm- this side is very successful. I'm talking to people and designing. I could sense that this side was very happy with the way Life had worked itself out so wonderfully in my favor. The skies were clear here.
But on the other side, I saw something very different. This other side of the chasm had dark clouds looming overhead. The fog was so think I could hardly find where my other half was. Finally, I spotted it standing in the center of a group of men. Again, I was laughing and talking to them, but there was something not happy.
I finally stop and take a look at myself and my surroundings. I'm standing on a street corner, close to a lamppost, with a trenchcoat on- very 1940's film noir stuff. All that was missing was the swirling fog, cigarette and pulled down fedora. Who was I waiting for? Then from the light side of the chasm, building a bridge with every step he took, approached a man. He stopped in front of me, and I noticed that he was leading the successful side of me by the hand and then beckoned the other half to him. As my two sides watched on, I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. He brought me success, yet brought my downfall. I started developing romantic feelings towards him; he only wanted me for his entertainment. He was tearing me in two; in my professional life, I have to keep calm and do what I have to do. As soon as I get home, I break down and have no desire to do anything.
When I finally pull back from the kiss, I push him aside and run across the bridge. I don't know where that bridge will lead me, but I know that I have to get away from him. He has too much of me already, I need to escape with whatever I can salvage. Including what's left of my heart.

My Life is Over

So today is John Lennon's birthday anniversary, but on this day my life is over. I've been saying for the past year now that I knew for sure I'd never get married and now it is confirmed. I waited and hoped for the past ten years that this guy would notice me and fall in love with me. I love his voice, he writes wonderful songs that always bring a smile to my face, he plays guitar and piano, and has a sunny personality. He's also really cute, but that's besides the point. Even though there's a significant age difference, it didn't bother me. I love him and I will continue to love him even though he's now married.
Oh Paul, would you have given me a chance if I'd ever told you how much I love and admire you? Or would you have simply passed me up as just another silly girl? I know you have many admirers but maybe you would have made an exception for me? Ten years is an awful long time to have feelings for someone. My feelings for you have only changed insomuch as they have exponentially grown and deepened. Every time you sing, I feel like you're singing just for me. We are both artists and keep hoping to find true, eternal love. I know that I've found that in you.
But now it is too late. You are now happily married and I am left alone in this cold cruel world without you beside me. Despite this, I still wish you the best of luck in your marriage and I hope she treats you better than your last wife.

Yours forever,
Wanna-be Mrs. Paul McCartney

A Series of Mini-Posts

Instead of having a long blog, I've decided to simply post small blurbs about the things that have been on my mind lately. They are in no particular order and some of them are intended as only slight hammed up, melodramatic, whining-because-I-like-to-hear-myself-whine.

The Dolphins- Good God they march down the field but when they get to the 20 yard line they quit because, what? They feel like simply getting to the 20 is an accomplishment? It's going to be a loooooong season. So far, I'm not that impressed with Reggie Bush. Thankfully it looks like Henne is finally kinda-sorta starting to improve. Maybe there is hope for him after all. We'll just call him a late bloomer.

Speaking of late bloomers...

The Gators- I told my friends that if we were having trouble scoring against little teams that we would not be able to compete with the big teams. And lo and behold! I was right. After a promising start- we scored a touchdown in our first drive and a field goal- we never got that close to scoring against Alabama again. Fine, they are all rookies and Brantley got injured in the middle of the game. But Brantley has always sucked and will always suck. He's like a stick of butter when it gets too hot. No, he should be a diamond, but he's just not. And what is up with the play-calling? This is not the days of Tim Tebow, we can't just depend on the quarterback to run it as well as he can throw it. Gone are the days of jump passes, and perfectly timed happy mistakes. Throw out that playbook, it doesn't work here anymore. (Sadly). Oh and the Gators are running (pun intended) into the same problem the Dolphins had last year. They ran Ricky and Ronnie so much people started expecting it. If the Gators continue to run Rainey and Demps as much as they do, teams will start expecting it too. Don't even get me started on the penalties....

On a lighter note....

My love life- After a rough August/September things are working quite well between my boyfriend and I. For the first time in my life, I've been able to be in a relationship for one consecutive year. I don't count the break-ups because they were so short that it's hardly worth counting. It's not like we ever broke up for a month or more. If that was the case, I would have reset the counter, but thankfully we didn't. There should be a relationship status called "we just are". It's quite the opposite of "it's complicated". In fact, "we just are" delineates a relationship where there are no defined roles, no thought is given to the future, and it's two people who simply enjoy each others company. We let each other morph and we don't hold each other to roles (gendered or otherwise). We still call each other boyfriend/girlfriend but I think it's a more modern relationship.

My future- I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE!!!!!!!! 'Nuff said.