Kinda bratty, kinda shy

Feeling cranky this morning, so, just let me whine about a few things.
I have a circle of female friends who are sweet and loving and supportive for the most part. I suppose if I cried out for help that they would do their best to come to my aid. One of them sent out a group email a few months back, asking for each of us to pitch in for a spa day for one of the girls who just gave birth. For some reason, I felt a bit cranky about it, and decided not to participate. Thinking back to when I became a Mom, sure, a Stepmom, but, I really could have used the support of the group back then. It would have helped a ton if my friends had rallied around and sent love and support my way during that time. I didn't have the pregnancy hormones helping me to evolve into motherhood, I had an adversary, and a violent/loud/abusive one at that, in the Biomom. She had a large group of friends, people always around her, building her up, and I succumbed to my reclusive nature, stayed in to the point of agoraphobia, and my near constant companion was her son, who resented and disrespected me on the daily.
The last few years I spent living in New Orleans, were miserable ones. The thought of running into her made my stomach turn, I often resorted to fantasizing about beating her to a bloody pulp...while simultaneously trying to raise her son.
I wrote all about it here back then, and LJ was really my only place of comfort. My friends did not realise how bad off I was. Neither did I.
Now, on the other side of that ordeal, I feel cheated, I feel like I screwed up, and I am also resentful of the "Mommy Club", of which I am not a member.
Yes, it would have been nice to have had a spa day back when I was my most miserable.
I don't think that my friend who just gave birth needs a spa day. Her body helped her through the process, creating the tools she needed to grow a tiny human inside her, and even now, is likely using those tools to heal itself and aid the growth of the human it created.
My body was slammed with the news of its motherhood, and repeatedly abused, emotionally, by the events that followed. I still have shit I need to unpack in therapy. Where's my fucking spa day?

Okay, thanks, just needed to whine about it.

Mother's day is always uncomfortable for me. I was an unwilling stepmother to a feral little boy who's mother was too busy getting wasted and having orgies to really help her son grow up, or send him to school, or show up on time for anything. He is now an anxious young man who is bitter at the world. I don't really expect him to call me up and wish me a happy mother's day. I don't exactly feel as though I did him a solid by raising him while openly hating his mother. It was so hard not to. I didn't even know I wasn't supposed to talk crap about his mom in front of him, until it was way too late. I was only 25 when I met him, I had no intention of having kids of my own, and I walked into a situation where a wonderful man (Justin) was being horribly mistreated by this hateful drunk bitch. It was unbearable.
I spent so many years feeling helpless, and angry. It was such a relief, once she got married, and had another baby, she stopped being so terrible to us. Though she quit drinking a few years ago, she never once approached me to apologize for the crap she pulled. She has posted thankful messages to my facebook page, which has been encouraging, but also a bit trite in the face of EVERYTHING.
So yeah, Mother's day is rough. I never celebrated it growing up. My Mom didn't do any holidays, we as a family never exchanged presents with regularity. As an adult, I am want to exchange all the presents and celebrate all the things! But I often tiptoe around mother's day like it's no big deal, when it really is, I just feel like an ass saying I want to celebrate, when I don't feel deserving of the festivities...but then...all the times I picked him up from school and made him a snack, or took him to the park to fly kites, or fought to have him put in school, the times I took him to the health department to get all of his vaccinations when he was 12 (Cuz, at the time, Mom was antivax). I worked hard trying to help him even though the situation was so toxic, and all, only because I love his Dad.
In order to cope with the feels, I did some googling on the subject and read a few things people have written about mother's day. It was helpful to read one person's perspective that Mother's day is more about teaching children to value family and learn empathy by highlighting all that Mom does for them. That made it feel less important, now that Stepson is grown.
Then I just needed to come over here and puke up some thinkings.

I have this house in my dreams. Not all of them, but a lot of them. Last night, my dream took place inside the house, but I didn't notice it until the end.
The house has two rooms in the back with windows all across the backside, and there is a field with an abandoned warehouse behind it. Last night I remember looking out the window, and seeing the sun setting over this field, and marveling at the colors, and the way the heat made blurry patterns at the entrance to the warehouse.
I was standing with someone, talking to them about the field, and this room we were in. The floor of the room tilts downward, so, when you enter the room, and walk toward the windows, you feel a slope.
I noticed wolves in the field. When they noticed me they ran to the house. I closed the curtains, and walked away.
I checked the other room that overlooks the field. In my dreams, it often has a faulty lock. The door was locked tight, but outside the window was a person I used to know. I was unphased by his presence, I think he was one of the wolves.
There was some huge sleep over happening in the house. I was breaking down air mattresses, and folding blankets. But there were interstellar dignitaries in long robes as well. It was strange.

I just woke up, with that image of the sun filtering through the blurry heat, the grass was so green, on my mind. It was really beautiful.

Everything else is fine. Uneventful, even. Just wishing for some news that we are moving away from here, and doing what needs to be done in the meantime. I might get a job at Starbucks or something while I work on my pilates certification. I need to be around people more. Talking to the cats all the time is making me feel a bit batty.

I woke up sick in the middle of the night. Around 4am, just woke up feeling crummy, and then explosions from all ends. It was terrible. I vaguely remember Justin bringing me water, and I kept telling him that it tasted like it had sugar in it.
I feel okay now.
Having a somewhat productive weekend. My studio is so close to being completely organised and operational. I spent last week getting ready to hang those paintings, and now I've got some time to really finish this place off (before I obliterate it again.)

I heard back from Jane. She's dumb. I think the situation was diffused a bit. But, I'm just going to be the kind of friend who never hangs out. I can't do it. She can't see past her own nose, and she's a huge bummer to hang out with. I don't know why she is hell bent on being my friend, we are incompatible.

Anyway, I'm glad LJ is still here.

Justin and I drove to Vegas last weekend to visit with some old friends of his from Houston. We stayed in old Vegas right at the end of the Fremont St experience, at the Plaza hotel. I think I prefer old Vegas these days, it's getting pretty cute.

I'm driving to San Diego tomorrow to hang some of my paintings at the Bonita Library where my sister works. I finished up a painting I started last summer, and I painted a brand new baby painting to fill out my installation. I'm sure I'll post pics on instagram, if you're not following me, @twinklemischief

I don't have any "go to" friends right now. I feel isolated, but it's only week three of class. I'm sure I'll end up hanging out with people from school at some point. Things with Justin are improving all the time. Before the kids moved out, we weren't exactly at our closest. We cohabitate well when other people aren't screwing things up. But he works so much, I don't really get to hang out with him much, aside from around the house.

I get compliments all the time on my appearance, my style, my hair color. It's just me being me, and a lot of people feel the need to comment on it. So why the fuck do I let one negative comment get me so down? I came home from school today really bummed because some dried up bitter old clam from the dance department made an audible and rude comment about my hair, as I sat in my car before class. It was awkward because we were both walking toward the dance department. I ended up snapping her photo and mocking her on instagram. But I did not take a photo of the lady that paid me a very sweet compliment at Trader Joe's on the way home, or the countless other people who compliment me every day. I want to be the change I wish to see in the world. I will try to take a picture of the next few people who compliment me. I want to focus on positive interactions.

I'm so happy to have pilates back in my life. Things can only get better from here. It will take me about three semesters to finish the classes I need, and then I'll have to do a lot of observation of other people's teachings before I can take the certification test. But I'm up for the challenge.
I have a class 4 days a week. The mon wed classes are not as intense as the tues thurs classes. I left class last night feeling the familiar workout high that I have missed so much.

Which is good, because I stopped for gas on the way to class and some lady tried to pick a fight with me. I pulled up to the station, spotted a free pump and parked in front of it.
When I got out of my car, the lady was standing by my pump, and asked a bit rudely if I was planning to pump some gas.
I cheerfully said, "Yes, I was planning on it" and she got more bitchy and said that she was there to get gas. Her car was parked several feet away from the pump, and when I pulled up, she was sitting in her car looking at her phone. I told her that was what I saw, and it was fair of me to assume that she had either already gotten gas, or was doing something else. She accused me of getting upset, I think she really just wanted to piss someone off. I was already trembling because I get very anxious when confronted with conflict with strangers. I'm sure I came off as upset, but the logic in this situation made no sense to me. My prime directive was get gas, not, pull up and ask around if anyone was gonna use the pump that's sitting there seemingly unattended.
I told her to go ahead and get gas, and returned to my car. As I sat back down, she said, "nevermind, I'm going to put some air in my tires" What a fucking horrible waste of life cunty bitch!! She didn't want to get gas at all! So, I went to pilates and worked that shit out, and hopefully she went home and fought with her husband and children and is having a terrible day today. :)

But seriously. Pilates helps me to let that shit go. I love it.

Remember Jane?
I had lunch with her last September for the first time since that entry I just linked.
I started by explaining to her why I had been keeping my distance. I referenced a lot of the things I wrote about in that entry. She was apologetic and blamed some of the behavior on the medication she had been taking.
We ended up having a bit of a heated argument over lunch. She told me that she was concerned that I would think to myself as I perish in hell, "Why didn't Jane tell me??"
I was shocked and annoyed by this statement. Who the fuck is Jane that she knows what's best for me?? It's just her needing to ease her conscience, it doesn't even have much to do with me.
Her mind is so closed up tight, I couldn't really relate to her at all.

So, after that lunch, again, I kept my distance. She relentlessly invited and re-invited me to her birthday party for the next three weeks. She called, left messages wanting to see me again.
I ignored her.

On valentines day, Justin and I were leaving Panama 66 in Balboa Park. We had spent several hours eating and drinking in celebration of my Dad's 76th birthday. We were walking across the Prado bridge when I heard my name. It was Jane. She was walking in the street on the opposite side from us. The street and sidewalk were crowded with people. She was the only pedestrian in the road walking with traffic. She asked if we could talk for a minute, and I said we were in a hurry.

She called me that evening while I was having dinner with Justin. She left a lengthy and pleading voicemail. I finally responded today.

"Jane, I'm sorry I've been silent, I'm just not sure what to say. My mother taught me as a child that heaven and hell do not exist, and that the God she believed in was a loving God who did not exact revenge.
As a grown person, these base teachings still exist in my mind, also as an Atheist person, whether I like it or not. I have plenty of christian friends who are accepting of my beliefs and even respectful. I prefer these types of friendships in my life. I have a hard time keeping patience with you because you come across as very closed minded. When I started talking about my paintings, for instance, you interrupted me to say, "You never painted in High School" and, while I did have brief access to some oil paints in High School, and I messed around with them, it is true, I did not paint in High School. That's the beauty of life. As we age and get older we can explore the things we didn't do before, and I am spending my life enjoying as many things as possible. I was a bit shocked at your reaction, considering High School was more than 20 years ago for me, and not only that, but it was not the greatest time of my life.
I am open to hanging out again sometime. I don't want to throw away our friendship, I just need you to be respectful of me and my beliefs, and be open to the idea that I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions and life choices based on my perception and upbringing just like every other human person on earth."

It's been just over a week, and the house has changed drastically. Justin and I have been rearranging things in every room. It's good. Especially since we are probably going to be here another two years.
I painted Pheran's old room and moved all my stuff in. I should have moved into this room in the first place. It has a walk in closet, the perfect light, the best view in the house. All things that don't really matter to sullen teens. Oh well, mine now.
Justin has moved all of his musical instruments into my old studio, right next door. It was fun last night, both hanging out in our rooms, still able to chat here and there, but mostly just doing our own thing.
Soon, we will be able to accept visitors without embarrassment. Justin's pile of electronics right inside the front door, and my pile of multimedia art supplies and tools in the dining room, will be tucked away upstairs. Now we just need to find some friends nearby...all mine have moved away or gone off to college.

I'm starting classes this Spring (today!) to get my pilates certification. It's a little scary, but also really exciting. My health has declined so much since pilates stopped being a weekly routine, and I want to feel good again. I want to make pilates a permanent part of my lifestyle. Not to mention, studying anatomy helps with drawing human forms.

Art wise, I have a little bit going on. I have been drawing up ideas for some farmer bunnies I was asked by a friend to paint. I have the Digger family series I am working on. My sister invited me to hang some work at her library in March. Hopefully things soon after that...? I mainly want to just paint up a storm in the next few months. I have so many ideas and so many wooden panels!

Jeff Soto is my painting teacher.
I feel really lucky.

Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I resolved to maintain my weight loss and keep fit, and I managed that.


Did anyone close to you give birth?

Still reeling from all the babies of last year, can’t even remember if there were any this year.


Did anyone close to you die?

No one close to me, thankfully.


What countries did you visit?

No new countries this year. I went on a lonely road trip through the desert, which was a lot like visiting another country.


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