I will be picturesque

I haven’t talked to my mom in ten days and I can only hope so hard that I will it into existent that she is doing what she needs to do to finally be able to support herself, again – not that she had ever done it well for long. That’s why she has so many last names. There was a time in my life that I was embarrassed that my mom had 4 kids but as I get older, I realize that I am sure that it wasn’t an easy decision to make. She grew up Catholic but I can’t imagine that ever affected her future decisions – but it could be why I have 3 siblings.

Now that there are three of us left and I pretty much take care of my brother (though many people have strong opinions about that) and my sister’s husband thing would never allow her to come stay with them, she still has no one to help her. My dad would if he could because he is one of the most giving people I know – but he has tried many times and he is too old to take the mental and physical abuse that she puts him though.

He hasn’t spoken to her since I sent her to GA with a one way plane ticket to live with a childhood friend that agreed to take her in after whatever abuse story she told him. There was a point my dad was worried that one of my mom’s drunk friends would believe her and come to retaliate. I am sure that he has PTSD from all that she has put him through. I am the only one of us that she has never physically assaulted but the one time she came close it absolutely terrified my dad.

We were in the kitchen that I grew up in. It was just over 20 years ago right after my grandfather passed away on June 30. She was in town for some child support hearing. I had ran out of gas coming from somewhere. My dad showed up to help me and she was with him. I know at that point I was extremely standoffish but there is no telling what out dynamic was. That was when my siblings were in foster-care and I was too young and far away to do a thing about it. They were in MO. My brother and I were allowed to call them once in a while. I feel like I just talked about that.

I really held a grudge and I didn’t know what had really happened or why they went. In the end, some people say that my sister came out to a psychiatrist saying that she lied about mom pushing her down the stairs. It was a steep wooden staircase to a basement, I can’t imagine that professionals couldn’t tell the damn difference. My sister says that she aged out of the system and that she threw a fit until my brother who was 12 months younger was allowed to go with her.

Back to the original point, the time I nearly fought my mom may have been the day after they put gas in my car. I was still living at home – was about to start my freshman year in high school. It was about the time that I started to get a little taller than my mom and though she was a gymnast that nearly went to the Olympics – I was in much better shape than per alcoholic 35 year old self. I was making waffles or something at the toaster and she said something that she knew would piss me off about my grandmother and everyone in the room knew exactly how I felt about that. It was the only time I had seriously bucked up to someone and I was about her fight her right there in the kitchen. My dad quickly begged me to ignore her with fear in her voice somehow reminding me that I was better than that.

I walked away and went to my room but I never forgot the day that I nearly beat my mom’s ass and I think my dad knew it. No one else in my family will hit her back and you bet she has physically abused every one of them. Brian only after her was an adult because my dad protected us well.

It’s true what they say about support systems. Though I often feel like an outsider as an adult – mainly because I think they judge Brian and I for my mom’s mental illness. They would probably rather our last name vanish with our generation than either of us pass on our last name – but who cares – not me. There is a lesbianesque story in there somewhere but I am not ready to tell it and I know better than to say such a think to such a person but yesterday I was having a conversation and I so badly wanted to say things that I found myself looking at myself in the proverbial mirror thinking what in the actual fuck.

Now for some music because I have lost my train of thought. Some really great things happened today and I almost wanted to tell her about the pizza that I was afraid someone threw away out of the freeze. I will tell one last story before I move on to songs that I listen too way too often.

Chronologically
It’s some year long ago. I am sure there is a record of the event but until then – it was around 2014 or 15 or some year. I call up the local pizza place where I happen to admire a pizza artist manager. She answers the phone to take my order and she may be away of such admiring so she doesn’t ask my name, possibly because I had invented a code pizza since I too am forever 14.

I go to pick it up and she doesn’t let me pay for it so as I float on cloud nine for a few days or however long. The uneaten pieces of my birthday pizza (I forgot that important part of the story it was on my birthday) stayed in my bachelor-like fridge for way too long. A friend of mine – who was too aware of the whole pizza love – was cleaning out the friend and told me to just put a piece in the freezer – so I did.

It stayed there for years to come until I had to move. I really didn’t want to move and I tried everything to find a way to stay but one by one every reason disappeared and I gave in. There was one big reason that I didn’t want to leave and the pizza in the fridge wasn’t it at all but it symbolized something to me that I thought a slice of pizza in the fridge that could contain biological warfare at this point would do something about. Eventually I moved that pizza into a deep freezer in the garage of the house I was staying in. No idea when, how I did such a thing without anyone noticing because if I have ever been called a hoarder – this one was not going to slide by anyone. I have now confessed to said pizza because I thought it was missing and promptly asked everyone about it not thinking about having to explain my question.

What I think makes the story worth mentioning is that sometime last year this classic pizza shop ended up closing its doors abruptly, so I do not think that many people had the chance to get their final slice. It is not edible by any means and my dad laughed and no one actually asked – probably because anyone that knows me know exactly why I have the last piece of Valentino’s pizza in my freezer.

Now for some music that tugs at my soul.

Fuel

This was the first song that I loved off the album but never understood it the way I do now.

As Is

I really appreciate the passion the live version.

Two Little Girls
Loom
Pixie

I don’t think war is noble 
And I don’t like to think love is like war 

But I got a big hot cherry bomb 
And I want to slip it through the mail slot 
Of your front door 
You can’t leave me here 
I got your back now 
You’d better have mine 
‘Cause you say the coast is clear 
But you say that all the time 
So many sheep I quit counting 
Sleepless and embarrassed 
About the way that I feel 

Trying to make mole hills out of mountains 
Building base camp at the bottom 
Of a really big deal 

Ani DiFranco – Independence Day off Little Plastic Castle released in 1998
Independence Day

You can’t leave me here 
I got your back now 
You’d better have mine 
‘Cause you say the coast is clear 
But you say that all the time 

I could never vocalize how this song makes me feel.

I don’t want to be afraid.

 Photos from Bella Concert Hall in Calgary by Josh Platt

we met in a dream

I appreciate that I have always been perceived as quite innocent and caring. It’s not common anymore and as risque as I like to think that I can be, there is always someone that will eventually hear about it and the giggle and say something like, “Oh hunny…” and well, that puts me in a strange place, because I am intelligent to know what they are implying with their tone, but I can’t even imagine what they could be thinking about at that very moment. Things I have only seen, and tried to ignore, in movies.

It is so rare that I even want to watch a movie or TV anymore. I don’t like the way that it can make me feel. So much so, that I still remember exactly how she calmed me down when we saw that movie in the theater. If you know me, you know that I said that word with an accent and I have grown to expect people to laugh and say, “What?” but that just shows me how many people have moved to this area. Locals rarely notice my accent.. so I guess I have one. Anyway – I am nervously rambling. We saw Dallas Buyers Club and another similar movie. I can’t tell you which one we saw in the theater or which one we saw at my house, but I can tell you what room we were in, how my bed was and where my computer was. For all of the time that I lived in that house, it was the smallest period that I stayed in my brothers room, but at that time, I was. My bed was in the same position when I woke up with those images in my head that lead me to get online and find his YouTube channel within a few clicks.

That always freaked me out. It was very “Slumdog Millionaire.” I ended up searching something that had to do with the, “he was a really good boy” song – which I only know from the mowing the yard video. I was somewhat surprised when it came right up, but I had seen that video before. I will divulge the rest of these details in some future moment that is more romantic than this, but back to my story that I have completely lost sight of: The movie we were watching, at the theater, when the sex scene came on, she could tell I was uncomfortable, I didn’t want her to know how weird I was, but it was milliseconds in when she reached over and held my hand or my leg and I was so distracted that I could focus on that instead of whatever else I had been struggling with. I never forgot that moment, though it kind of embarrasses me to be an adult that still struggles with PDA. I am not wildly religious but I can see where my grandparents raising me for a good portion of my life has reflected in my adult life.

I really have no idea how I ended up here but through that typing and having this song stuck in my head all day, I questioned if maybe she has an autistic sister. There was this time I was having a melt down I suppose, I feel like it was pretty to myself but I must have said something – I know I told her I thought I was autistic because I was just so embarrassed with my life and was trying to figure out why I lacked such basic skills. I don’t know what she said, but whatever was wrong was instantly better. I try not to look back, but I have all the emails if I wanted to see what the hell I’m talking about – but I don’t but I love that I love someone that I feel like understands me. It doesn’t happen often.

maybe i’m supposed to make one of my famous jokes 
that makes everything okay 
or maybe i’m supposed to be the handsome prince 
who rides up and unties your hands 
or maybe i’m the furrow-browed friend 
who thinks she understands 

AlbumLittle Plastic Castle