rosyxxx's journal

The other day I went to the 7-11. _________________________I was just bending down to grab ____________ and a butterfinger, when it slipped from my grasp, as a very drunk blonde-headed kid crooned into my ear from behind that he needed my number. I told him that I was taken. He inquired: "By whom?" I said that I was taken again. He repeated his question. I replied in my previous fashion. So did he. Finally, I said: "That is for me to know and you not to know."

With that, I went to the counter. I hung out and chatted with the dude behind the counter. ______________________20 minutes went by. I shielded my eyes, and asked the counterman if blondie's car was still there... he said yes, and _____________________. I suggested calling the police, which I did, and after that, blondie came in to feign getting a soda. Then he went back out and sat in his car for another ten minutes, before driving across the street to another parking lot to wait for ten more minutes. The milkman and I assumed that they might be sitting on that very lot, waiting for me to come out. They were. We found that out just before seeing them take off to the north, just 2 min. before two _______ female cops arrived.

The cops asked me what make and model of car it was, and what the license plate number was... the license plate number that had been readily visible through the glass until, say, 15 min. ago. I said, I'm pretty sure that I gave that info over the phone 20 min. ago, but.... _________________,here it is again. Not that they went screaming after him anyway, but you know... just for the sake of argument.

I went home and ate chocolate. _______________. The end.

In the interest of not being lengthy, I shall allow you all the privilege of using your imaginations to fill in the blanks.

This post was edited by rosyxxx on Jun 19, 2005.

Okay. To quote from the movie: The Big Lebowski...

New shit has come to light, man!

Not only is it apparent that there are some major scam artists on the scene at my work... in the form of managers... but somebody stole $300 bucks out of one of the bartenders' registers. Scum.

Somebody made off with $200 out of another bartender's register last week, I believe. My night wasn't very lucrative, but somebody's was... and it pisses me off, because it came at the expense of the peace of mind that a close friend of mine should be having after a long night at work. I'd like to personally kick whoever took the money. What a shitty thing to do.

I heard about it after I sat and listened to someone trying to bend my ears with his spiel about the bright future our club has according to his prophecies and suggestions for allocation of funds, apparently separate from the theft. But maybe not. There was the theft of my time with that one. Why was I, and an unnamed waitress, subjected to an hour of trancelike indoctrination, if this information was so important that the whole club should hear? And why was he pissed when I had to cut him short and leave? It didn't seem appropriate for that kind of frustation. Unless.... I thwarted some evil plan to manipulate individual strippers and waitresses into believing his bullshit. I say this with my tongue-in-cheek, because I think the dude is a joke.

He sounds like a telemarketer to me... and what with having a date with a 'telemarketer', so to speak, I've had enough of those charismatic types. They can take their tamasic little asses and go jump off their own personal cliffs. I don't need it.

And while I'm at it, I am wondering... just exactly who has access to the register besides the bartender? Hmmm? Not that I am pointing any definitive fingers, but I see possibilities...

Last night was a little painful to go through... in more ways than one. First, I had to cut off a budding relationship. Second, I really hurt my back at work. Third, I was at a loss as to what to do for one of my co-workers when her man pulled some psycho stunts on her.

When I woke up yesterday, I turned on my phone to find another message from the guy I had just had a first date with on Sunday. I realized that we only started talking last Monday, and after that, Friday was the only day we didn't talk. I only called once. I didn't really think anything of that, even after the conversation we had Sunday night about families and children, where he was trying to convince me how much I would love having a child. I know this is not for me. I don't need to be swayed or convinced. I also saw a 'red flag' go up when he told me a bit about his last relationship. Some things just did not jive, like the fact that his child died, and he never said how or why. The fact that he was just in a relationship that lasted only a matter of months, and they were going to get married, until the woman decided that it was too fast, and bailed. He felt that she had commitment problems, and I begged to differ.

Other than that, dinner was lovely, so was dessert, so was the movie, and bowling was mostly fun. But the reassurances required by him became exhausting, and I just wanted to go home, eventually. We'd spent more than eight hours together. By the time I got home, I had had another message from him... nice, but I didn't deem it necessary to be calling back that very morning at 2 am. Monday went by, and a full day of work, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought: "I am just too wary of people."

Yesterday came, and a new message. I was short on time getting ready for work, and I didn't think it necessary to call back right away... so I didn't. He called less than three hours later, giving me an ultimatum on when to call him back, and reprimanding me for not calling back Sunday night, after we had just finished our date, not calling Monday to say thank you, and not returning his call that afternoon. Then the message went on for a full 5 minutes. I had my girlfriend listen to it. She pulled the phone away from her ear, and said: "Honey, you don't need this. Get it over with..." Which is what I did. I ended it.

Granted, it would have been nice for me to call and say 'thank you' over the phone, after having already said 'thank you' for a nice date in person plenty of times... but, my lack of doing so, didn't merit a 5 minute reprimand. It possibly merited somebody being mature enough to understand that I was a little scared.

Then I pulled a back muscle in the thoracic region.. a repull from a few weeks ago. Fortunately, my manager understood and let me go. Before I left, two people worked on my back, and then I put ice on it, so that I could drive. I was grateful to the guys who worked on the knot, so that I could sleep relatively pain free tonight. No more headstands for a while... I guess.

While I was resting my back, and getting ready to drive home, a coworker burst into tears. It was the classic stripper story of an abusive boyfriend. He'd taken her car, changed the locks on the apartment, and left town. He was mad because she complained about the fact that he slept with someone else behind her back. Nevermind that the car she payed for, she bought and put in his name. Nevermind that she paid the rent every month, and the apartment was in his name as well. ??? He beats her too. She wanted to know why he would treat her that way... and I said, you can't wait around asking those kinds of questions. Believe me I know. Don't waste anymore of your time.

I told her she could stay with me for the night, not thinking I have to meet some friends later today... I don't have a TV for her to veg in front of, and I don't trust her, either. Stealing isn't the problem. The problem is that she immediately got on someone's phone, called a friend, and told them that she was staying with me, and where I live. I suspected that she might also place calls from my home phone without thinking to block the number; and probably try to call her man, and let him know where she was, without thinking...either. I wanted to care, but she'd already told someone where she was staying, without thinking about my welfare at all.

People asked me if I was crazy for ever agreeing to let her stay with me... I told her, under the circumstances, I couldn't trust her if she was going to give out my private information. I don't need that drama added to what I have gone through. I told her that I would take her wherever she wanted to go, but no longer to my place. Someone else offered to take her home, get drunk with her, and stay up watching movies. Right now, though some would disagree... I think that is what she needs. I gave up drinking myself, and would not be a good drinking buddy for that reason... but I remember leaving a similar emotionally and mentally abusive situation, and drinking myself into oblivion back then was what kept me from calling for the first month, before I got my shit together.

I told her she needs distance, perspective, and that the more of it she has, the easier it will be to see how much she doesn't need him in her life. The man is a control freak, much like the dude I dallied with last week.

I think it bears mentioning here, that trying to control what a control freak does to your life, does not necessarily make you a control freak... but if you have any tendencies towards that kind of behaviour yourself, you definitely don't need to pair up with someone who has a full-blown case of controlfreakedness. I can listen to her stories without it draining me, oddly enough... due to my meditation practice, but I can't risk my physical well-being by having someone like her man come near my home. I also can't have a man in my life who wants to know my whereabouts 24/7, like the dude I dallied with last week. Thank god I am a old-fashioned and didn't let anything of a sexual nature occur with him, before I found out what he was really like. Sex soooo clouds the issues. If I had begun to have feelings for him, I might try to rationalize his desire to know every last little detail about my life.

My whereabouts for the next couple of days, though, are to be hanging out with friends while my back recuperates. Just in case, anybody wants to know.... :-)

<insert canned laughter>

Oddly enough, I am not exhausted. Just relieved that everything worked out okay.

This post was edited by rosyxxx on Jun 01, 2005.

Well, I am halfway through another crocheted baby blanket. It's something I work on when I wake up and make breakfast, and when I feel a little frazzled. It's another form of meditation for me... and one that when done at work, doesn't look so odd. Not that it matters.

I hope, soon, to have the drop-shoulder red sweater I started two months ago finished sometime soon, and ditto the the silk bathing suit wrap. I can't finish that until my lady here finishes the yarn she promised. I paid for it already, so that she wouldn't have to worry, but I think she forgot to call me back. Hmm. Maybe I should call. I wonder if everything is okay...

It's coming up on the end of the month, and I have a lot to get finished... including tons of laundry. How does it always seem to multiply like dust? *smiles* I feel like the Australian wallaby in the Nickelodeon cartoon Rocko's Modern World.

"Laundry day is a very dangerous day."

(just imagine that in one of those thick Australian accents. It's so hot.)

It may not be dangerous, but I expect that doing my laundry might be more than the boring task it usually is...Oh mother, I have not kept my inner experiences secret because I was too eager to share. Some things should stay secret. They are not meant for everyone.

So, I'm hopping in the shower, and getting a headstart on next week. Tomorrow should be fun. So should tonight. Not telling. ;P

This post was edited by rosyxxx on May 29, 2005.

Wow! Where do I begin? Besides warning anyone attempting to read this that it is very long... so...read it only if you have the time...

The last few days have been busy. With everything that happened Monday and Tuesday, and the utter confusion it generated, I am happy to say, that I still have my head on my shoulders. I think I handled the situation in the best way possible... I hope so, because my suggestion, and subsequently the decision which was based upon it affected several people; yet, anything else would have been unfair. At least this way, everyone took a hit, and no one person was weighed down with the final burden. If it sounds like I am speaking in tongues, it is because I am. That's all I can say.

A few weeks ago, when things were being difficult, I wondered aloud where my 'peace' had gone. I was angry, I felt alone, but only for a day. I cried during my meditation practice. I sobbed. I begged for help. And it came from within me.

I've been a good friend to some new people in my life. I have given my time, my possessions, my counsel (whether it was good or not)... I have spoken up for my friends... I have driven them home when they were drunk. I have stayed up looking at photo albums, and listening to people's troubles. I have been there. I have tried as hard as I could to be there.

And I look at my father, and I think: 'now I understand'. Most of the time you can do nothing but listen. Unless you really, really dig deep. And that's what I believe I want to do. It is my goal.

What hurts now, is watching myself slip a little here and there...and watching others do things that feel all too familiar to me. It hurts to watch them suffer so. It hurts knowing that all you can do is listen. Point in case, several people at work. More to the point, the gentleman I went out with last night.

I watched in shock for more than a half-an-hour as he could find absolutely nothing positive to talk about. He not only berated himself for being 30 minutes late, but he subjected me to it. Every word that came out of his mouth for over 30 min. was to the effect of:

Bad things always happen to good people...I am always late wherever I go, if I leave on time, then I get stuck in a traffic accident, or the phone rings and I take it, not thinking... This sucks, that sucks, it all sucks, life sucks... I am miserable... I just want to be average and mediocre because when I was in school I messed up the bell curve by being exceptional, and everybody hated me...I don't have time to read books, or watch movies, even though I only work three days a week out of seven, because I am busy doing everything for everybody else that calls... I don't work at my old job, but I do work at my old job...

Ouch!

Needless to say, most of it sounded like a jumble of words tumbling out, with no cohesion. He was all over the place with his pain. He was miserable, he was sad, he was ranting. But on the day I met him and asked him out, I was originally blown away by his beautiful eyes and his Snoopy necktie. But after all of that, I was a little disheartened. I tried to steer him not just onto more positive topics, but onto a different track with the same topics. I said that Bad things didn't always happen to good people, and I got lambasted for it. He insisted that they did.

Ditto, every suggestion I made thereafter. I quickly shut up, and just listened. Not that I had said that much anyway. I asked him about himself, but it took him 40 min. to ask about me... and when he did, he quickly turned the conversation back to himself.

Seems oddly familiar. I remember the 'love of my life' saying those things about me. And they were true. That doesn't negate that 'the love of my life' has his own set of problems, and it doesn't absolve him of the responsibility to change his own ways; but it also wasn't as if he was the only one fucking up, and I suspect, if anyone was keeping a running tally... mine was much higher. Not that it really matters now, but just so people reading this can see the perspective that I am coming from...

I remember not being able to 'listen' at all, because the words coming out of my mouth were like some fucked up mantra to keep me from thinking about my misery. When I tried to listen to someone else, I couldn't hear them, literally, so I began, always, to talk again. To drown out the painful thoughts.

But last night, with my date, I just wanted to tell him to shut up, and put his head on my lap and cry; but I thought he'd make fun of me for it if I did. So after trying feebly for a few minutes to try to counter his negativity with positivity, I just stopped. I crossed my arms and legs, and let him rant.

And I thought of Mary Oliver's poem... the one my mother loved... the one the poet David White read on tape:

The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
"Mend my life!"
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations--
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already too late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice,
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

And I think, the poem is speaking to the idea that the airlines try to get across to mothers traveling with small children. You are of no use to your child, if in scrambling to put the oxygen mask on their faces, you suddenly pass out before you have completed the task, because you didn't take care of yourself. You must have a foundation of strength to come from...

For most people, lately, I have had that. The easy ones just look a little pissed, and I kiss them on the cheek, or smile wide and genuinely. The more I smile, the more I want to smile. I've lost track of the people who have told me that I have the most beautiful smile... people stopped saying that round about 1996. It's been almost ten years. It is a compliment that I have missed, because when people say it, they are grinning as broadly as I am, when they weren't before.

People said, before my mother died, before I met the man who is, and has been stalking me here online, that I loved life, that I smiled all the time. And now, I smile again. Genuinely. It feels so real. And it has happened so fast. I'd say the crisis here online and off a few months ago, made me desperate to change, but the credit for the change doesn't go to someone who sets up a site in my name titled: Cleansing... it goes to my father, my sister (in all honesty), to 'the love of my life', to my friends John and Dan, Moon and Stacy, to Sarah, most of all... most of all. What she did for me back in October was nothing short of what a loving mother would do for a child in misery. And I argued with her, the way my date did with me last night. But she stayed with me, she held my hand, she planted all the positive seeds she could find in the dirt of my mind... and her seeds are growing.

She's not perfect. I am not perfect, but we aren't trying to be perfect, we are trying to learn to love. To learn to care. To learn when it is appropriate to defend ourselves, and when it is not. To learn what isn't worth worrying about, and what is...

With things happening this fast, I hope that within a month's time, I can cross paths with last night's date, and share my smile with him, and watch it light up his face, and change his life. It's what Sarah and all of my friends have done for me... I wish it for everyone else. Even for my stalker. Though, I must admit, he makes it very hard. But dwelling on his negativity is a worthless activity. Excuse me if that sounds a bit self-righteous, or if it sounds like I am being to optimistic.

I wish he would just go to the light and stop rooting for all the villains, but I don't have the energy to spend too much time on what seems to me to be a very hopeless case. Maybe someday I'll have that kind of blind strength, but right now, I don't.

When you try, sometimes you fail. The only way not to fail, is to never try. So, rest assured. I'm no saint. I expect to fail repeatedly, to slip and fall... AND to pick myself back up again and again and again...

A few weeks ago, I ripped someone's head off. I ranted about what an inconsiderate asshole they were... I intended to hurt. And I slipped back down the hole a little. I didn't like it much, so I picked myself up and dusted myself off again... like the Aliyah song says...

I'm sure last night, I might have sounded a little self-righteous to my date without meaning to, but I doubt it. I hardly had the chance to say anything. I, instead, sat there thinking: "Wow! This is like 'the love of my life' being on a date with me five years ago, and the other person across from me represents me at that time."

My heart went out to him, because he reminded me of myself. I had compassion for him, because his heart is basically good. That's the easy part. The hard part is developing compassion for the kind of people who would take someone like that and try to destroy them, while simultaneously pretending to build them up... because they think it is fun. And I think all of us here know who I'm talking about.

Trampling all over the weak and the miserable, the unhappy, the lonely, those crying out for someone to hear them and not shut them out is not the path to real happiness. It is a path into darkness. And not the kind of darkness that has any light within its core. Were I to have made fun of him in his misery, I would be traveling into a very dark place.

I by no means, mean to say that I am out of danger of going down that path again. Very few are safe from that danger. I could slip, but NOT as easily as I did before. It is a little easier to just walk away... so please don't misunderstand. There is a great amount of humility in what I am saying. It isn't about perfection though, it is about feeling ALIVE, instead of 'not alive'. Misery does not do much for helping one feel alive. Either experiencing it, or causing it. And I have caused my share while meaning to, and also not meaning to...

As it was, I felt a little tug towards my date's misery because I wanted to help. I tried. But I honestly ran out of steam after 40 min., and sheepishly went to find the waitress to tip her $20 to speed up the evening so that I could leave before he drained the fuck out of me. Maybe I shouldn't have left. Maybe I should have gone with him to his watering hole, but I have the feeling I would have met with criticism and derision for not drinking. I would have become the target for his ills, and those of his friends because I was the sole non-drinker.

Maybe alcohol doesn't do that to everybody, but it makes me depressed. I suspect it does to alot of people. I'll just take my joint, thank you. And an hour on the floor chanting and playing the Tibetan bowls. And I will forgive myself for bailing on him, because I did the best I could at the time.

I think....

ahh, I finally just now realized (you all who know me here, know that I sometimes write to find the answer) that what made it so painful for me, what made me feel like I didn't have the strength to resist him seemingly trying to pull me back into the pot of suffering crabs... was not that that was what he was trying to do... I can't really know for sure. That was a real possibility. Misery looooooves company, as they say....

BUT, what I do know, is that the pain of realizing that he was being my mirror for the evening was excruciating.

And, in fact, he had said:

"You are my mirror for the evening."

The irony of it was like a knife in my thigh. Thank the goddess that it wasn't like a knife in my heart. That, only my true love has the power to do. And thank the goddess that he tries every day not to twist a knife in my heart. He tries. And that's all I can ask of him, of anyone, of myself.

Everyone is human. Everyone slips and falls. The hard work is getting back up again, and not listening to the people who tell you that you are a hypocrite because you didn't maintain your composure 100% of the time. 90% is halfway there, and halfway is better than no way.

I think the way is through the mirror, and down the rabbit hole... a very different hole from a badger's hole. *sniffs*

This post was edited by rosyxxx on May 29, 2005.

Okay. Here I am again at the end of another long night of swinging around the stripper pole... ring-around-the-rosy...

I have had an oddly lucrative night. Not lucrative in the way that I would like, but lucrative nonetheless. Wait. Scratch that. I have gained a new friend, renewed a friendship, let someone know how special they are to me, and before I went to work, I made plans to hang out with a really cute guy next week at one of my favorite restaurants, and to go eat burgers and dessert with another. It's nice getting to know people slowly...

It's nice just dating. A lot. Where did all these people come from? I don't know but I am happy.

I have a meeting this afternoon, and then work, and I haven't been to bed yet, because I have been busy trying to help someone at work feel better about having been screwed over by the greedy demons who run our place of work. The shit that went down was really fucked up, and there isn't much that can be done about it. And I can't even talk about it here. At all. Just suffice it to say: I don't like bigshots who get away with everything. People's souls and hearts are more important than that.

The conversation I had with one of my coworkers after work about the incident was enlightening, to say the least. I think he understands me a little better now, and I could see in his eyes that he is proud of me for coming this far... He knows how hard I have tried to be a better person.

And coming here, I see more shit, but the kind of stuff that is laughable compared to what I saw happen to a friend last night. Silly shit don't mean a thang. It ain't got that swang. Sha-boom. Boom.

I am off to hang with my green jade statue, and play with the singing bowls. More good shall come if I can help it...

This post was edited by rosyxxx on May 29, 2005.