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September 19, 2004
9/18/04-Lesson of the Day
I didn't think i'd survive friday night. It was the worst night of my life. I felt as though I had been jumped by a gang of hoods. All my lies caught up with me, and were slappig me, kicking me and punching me. I was getting the shit kicked out of me, and I had nowhere to turn. I was stuck. I had no choice but to turn to mommy and my sister to get me out of my mess. I had to ask for help. I've learned my lesson. I can't do it alone.
I'd like to preface this entry by letting everyone know what kind of mood II'm in. i just watched American Splendor on hbo and i'm feeling inspired. I'm also a little embarrassed to say that this is the first time I've heard of Harvey Pekar.
This is the second hbo show that has inspired me to keep on writing. shit, I'm a combination between Carrie Bradshaw and Harvey Pekar an odd combination, I know... but it's true.
I love that he and his wife decided to write through the cancer years... not to get all morbid and shit, but that was so real to me. writing really does allow you to remove yourself from pain...
I think I was about to share some shit right now...oh yeah. I'm getting sentimental and shit here, because i want this moment to be recorded forever.
I've had an epiphany, and it must be recorded. i want to hail up my roomate, who is the most gracious, understanding, responsible person I know she has put up with my very Pekar-like tantrums, and she ain't even my boyfriend. She's managed to smile, even when she didnt' want to and I'll always appreciate that smile.
And to my li'l big sister. I should have been the baby sister, she does a better job of protecting me than I do. Liv, i learn from you every day. You've set an awesome example. You are beautiful and wise. Thank you, i love you. I owe you more than I can ever repay.
Grandma, How long do you think you'll stay mad at me? I'm kinda starving over here and i'm running out of last month's supply...aunt jen and mommy thank you for putting up with my pride, and lending me money even when i said no. Thank you for bailing me out. Thank you for loving me, protecting and defending me, even though I may not deserve it. I've learned my lesson, believe me.
Last night, a wise woman, known to those close to her as "mama", told me to "clear my head," and focus on solutions to the problems i was facing, and focus on a solution, rather than sitting with my head in my hands blaming myself or others for my misfortune. So that's what this is about.
I'm addicted to the HBO program Six Feet Under. I think that HBO has some of the best programs on t.v: I always learn something. Tonight's lesson was this: the Gay brother with the Black boyfriend-I believe his name is David, had to come face to face with his demons. Things are going pretty shitty for him, and he's feeling sorry for himself. His deceased father appears to him in a dream, and tells him to quit whining. He tells him that yes, shit is bad but he's alive. It's up to him to move forward. David then asks his dad if happiness could really be that simple? His dad responds with, what if it is? Yeah...what if it is?
Since my dad died, I been dealing with a lot of demons too. His and mine. I've been praying since he died that he would appear to me in a dream or something to explain all the shit that's going on in my head. I miss him. I'm going through some things that are unexplainable, and I feel that only he can explain them to me. But he can't, because he's dead. I want answers that only he can give. I'm angry at the world, but there's no one I can't take my frustration out. Life is a fucking trip...and there's nothing I can do about it. It is what it is. I suppose I can either live life, or let it kill me.
To be continued...
Posted by renee at 1:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
September 5, 2004
Good Morning Bloggers!
As you can see, I'm not embarrassed to let the world know that I am here at my computer on a Saturday night, instead of unleashing my fury on New York City's unsuspecting residents. Trust me, the world is a much safer place.
I'm glad to be in doors, and away from the temptations of sedentary life for a while. Plus, I'm still nursing my wounds from the previous week. It's been a rough one. A couple of doors got slammed in my face, but it's cool...i'll be kicking one down in a matter of minutes.
And on to other things...Daily Blessings. Thank God for Craigs List. (i know, i'm a late bloomer) I swear, i was beginning to give up on the job search-i thought i'd visited every possible job site available, applied for every job listed, even ones I knew i wasn't qualified for-but Craig's list had stuff for me! I'm inspired again...just when i was beginning to give up. Sorry for that long-winded diatribe
Now...on to bigger and better things. You've met my friend Gwen. That was her name right? it's been a while, and i've never been good with names. Now meet Giarc. Pronounced "Jerk". Giarc is not a jerk, and his self esteem has suffered immensley as a result of this mix-up. Giarc is definetely not a jerk. He is an extremely sensitive guy. The whole jerk/Giarc thing has been messing with him and lately he's been acting strange. I haven't seen him in a while. Apparantly he hasn't left his room in a few days. I called him the other night and he said he was recovering from an episode that occured over the weekend. He's a little shaken up over it and he asked me to ask the bloggers if anyone has gone through something like this:
You've been out drinking and had one or two more than you should have, but you aren't "drunk". You've got your wits about you; ugly chicks are still ugly chicks. Even the cop that pulls you over has no idea you been drinking. You obviously make it home fine, but the next morning, you wake up naked on the floor in the living room covered in cornflakes. You don't remember where the hell you were last night, or what the hell your doing naked on the living room floor!(Apparantly the cornflakes can be explained.)
Giarc wants to know if this is common, or is he some kind of freak?
Please be sensitive when you respond: As mentioned previously, Giarc is a sensitive guy, saying the wrong thing could push him over the edge. I can't live with that kind of guilt.
Posted by renee at 12:18 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack