I was prescribed another new medication. Hopefully it will be a better experience than yesterday, which resulted in a delightful afternoon and evening of nausea and physical illness.
I’m at the tippy tippy top floor of an old gingerbread tippy tippy top house. Using dial-up.
James picked me up and dropped me off at the airport yesterday morning and after the typically boring layover in San Jose my ass landed in untypically clear (hardly any smog) Ontario.
What am I doing here? There’s no one in the house this morning except for myself and a talkative orange tail-less cat named Bradshaw. My step-mother went to Orange County for a few days but I’ve no idea where my father is.
I don’t have my first appointment at the hosptial until tomorrow so a hike would be nice this afternoon, as I do not really feel like going into town to see any old friends. After finishing this cup of coffee I’ll have to walk down 4 flights of stairs to get another cup. Maybe a hike would be redundant.
The time it takes to schlep downstairs and pour more coffee should be enough time for a page to load on this computer though. Hard to believe that’s all we used to have for years isn’t it? Dial-up I mean, not schlepping.
It’s beauritful here in the trees, surrounded by mountain tops. The air is crsip and clean, since Idyllwild is at a 6000 foot elevation. My daughter will be here for dinner tonight and my old pals and former business friends (same thing) live in town as well.
The sun is bright and the azure sky blue and cloudless. It’s 8:30 am and I can hear occasional bits of a guy down the road singing opera. Yesterday afternoon one of the neighbors rode by. On her horse. This is a small secluded resort mountain town of artists, oddballs, retirees, tree-huggers, the over-educated and the out of place. It’s a reason I lived here for more than 10 years and fit in so very well.
So why am I still crying and craving the darkness?
So this morning I’m waiting for someone to come and take a look at the Jeep.
They wanted to come by at 8:00 am, then 9:00 am and they just called and will be here by 9:30 am.
Hey. I’m busy here you know? Sheets and towels to wash, cats to comb (as opposed to a catsacomb), regrets to obsess on, noon meetings to attend and exercise to put off until the last possible hour.
Wish I’d had time to vacuum the damned car out. And hose it down. Oh well, at least it did get washed last week. I rarely drive the damned thing but here at “Rachael’s My Parking Lot Is Deteriorating and Turning Back into Dirt Faster Than Your Parking Lot” the dust and debris accumulate quickly.
Today is also Cate’s Birthday. Day before yesterday I wrote that it was um, yesterday but it WAS late at the time. Since I was in labor 29 hours does that count towards forgetting what day it is?
Just so you know: Today is August 17, 2007
Set your watches accordingly.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently.
Too much so, as I’ve been unable to sleep for more than an hour or so all week. All this with no hugs, human touch or Court TV as a distraction.
Also, when Miss R thinks it’s a case of someone working without the proper tools.
Be that as it may I’ve some to a few inescapable conclusions:
- Some people are happy loners because humanity is a back-stabbing unforgiving species with no conscience nor genuine interest in working together or working things out.
- Some people are incapable of being alone because they are needy fuckers with no sense of humor or talents of any kind
- Sleeping by myself every night sucks and walking up in a big bed alone is horrible. Yeah yeah yeah this seems to be a recurring theme. Get used to it.
- After being unceremoniously dumped by someone you’re able to observe nothing but couples. You never see single people on the streets, in films (unless they are reunited at the end of course as it’s Hollywood), or in your reading.
- Too much Bukowski and Dorothy Parker are giving me the idea that alcoholism, broken hearts, constant thoughts of suicide and bad dietary habits are a norm to strive for. Hi Norm. Sadly these two individuals were both talented and able to make a living through their art. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck for me.
- I am one of the people who apparently does not do well alone. Was it the 20+ years of marriage? 13 years of raising a child and then having to send her away? I think it’s a function of my dysfunction. There’s a hoary old saying: No one can love you until you love yourself.
Some days I like myself alright, but that’s usually when comparing myself to the homeless dude on 4th street. I can find comfort in my intelligence and then realize that it has gotten me exactly… nowhere. Years of therapy, analysis and cognitive re-training have as yet been unable to convince me otherwise. Is it me? Yeah it is. Damn I hate taking responsibility for my own crap.
Now there’s a fucking cheery thought for this morning.
On the good side Tinfoil Hat Client did show up today. With no fucking warning as usual.
Listened to two hours of his ranting about the site, verbal abuse, lectures on world-wide pandemics, how ‘they’ are spying on his private emails, … well you get the picture.
At the end of this diatribe and 4 pages of notes for my use I DID receive a check.
Jesus. I have GOT to get into another line of work.
My laundry is going round and round in the sauna-like laundry room as we speak and the house is clean.
Had a few responses on the car but who knows if any are viable.
I DO still have my piano though and will put in some practice time this afternoon.
I should go to the gym as well but really don’t care today.
It isn’t as if I go anywhere or strive to meet anyone new.
Seems I have taken off a few pounds since working out this week though. Despite my culinary experiments.
Yeppers that whole routine idea was a great one last week. Okay there are two over-riding reasons for the sturm and drang today:
- Today marks my two year anniversary in Reno. Ugh.
- Tomorrow is my daughter’s birthday and once again I will miss it
Both of these together make for a serious slide into the abyss. I need to cheer up right?
I could get hit by a bus tomorrow! Whoa even tonight if I play my cards right.
Of course I’d have to actually leave the house.
Salad with kalamata olives, spinach and wasabai dressing –homemade I might add.
Time at the gym.
Placing a third ad for my jeep in a different marketplace.
Picking a card out for my daughter’s 14th birthday and wrapping the present.
Going to the post office and mailing the gift.
Crying because I miss her.
Answering ads about the Jeep.
Dumbass Tinfoil-Hat-Conspiracy-Theory-Cleint not showing up.
Contemplating re-establishing my cable connection.
Renting films is more expensive than having cable.
Unless of course you’re willing to trade flicks?
This is my life.
Well, just add books and a few subtle grins of course.
Never let ’em catch you without a smile.
So I’ve been procrastinating on writing a blog since my triumphant return from the whirlwind tour of Boston. Meetings with the Kennedys, the Kerrys and the Cardinal took all of the stamina and fortitude I could muster.
Oh wait that was a dream. Something about donuts and snakes too but that’s not important right now.
Got an email this morning asking if Boston was nice this time of year. Well, define nice.
I’m sure that in comparison to the Amazon River basin this time of year it qualifies as spectacular.
Otherwise the weather can best be summed up by the following metaphorical blathering:
“I woke up, soaked a heavy woolen blanket in warm water and after showering and dressing wrapped said blanket about my body. Then I walked around the sauna until dehydration indicated admittance to Mass General.”
The weather reminded me in precise terms why living on the east coast in the summer became anathema and I’ve been back out west for the past few years.
Having slammed the humidity I will also add that in this Hades-reminiscent climate I ran in a 5K along the Charles River one morning.
The shocking thing (besides my actually getting up at 6:00 am to perform any kind of exercise –excluding strenuous sex of course) was that I did not finish last in my age group, and this was in a field of exercise-obsessed sober cardiologists, anesthesiologists, shrinks and dentists. They’re all whack-jobs.
I kinda felt at home.
After finishing the race I walked back to the hotel to find my lovely daughter still sound asleep in our room. I threw my soaking wet (and now mildly aromatic) woolen blanket over her reposed figure and said “Cate Honey… get your lazy teen-age ass out of bed and go find mommy some coffee before she becomes homicidal.”
She was not amused.
But I was.
My days in Boston were filled mostly with AA meetings and lectures given for physicians to obtain their CME credits. The free time was spent exploring every nook of historical significance I could find. I walked miles and miles, mercifully burning off the calories from the exquisite meals I’d been indulging in.
Did you know that Boston Common is Boston’s largest unmarked grave? There are more than 10,000 bodies buried there and not one tombstone.
Graveyards from the 1600’s, a night tour of haunted Boston, delicious seafood, sober doctors, ala-teen kids running amuck, lectures, bad banquet food, a fab evening listening to mystery writer/physician Michael Palmer speak, cannoli at Mikes Pastry, standing outside to have a smoke, buckets of coffee, my family, and general disorder.
In a word the trip was…. Surreal.
Here’s proof below. It’s my daughter, myself and my dad in front of the Revere House.
The one meeting I looked forward to was a bust. It was a lecture given by an Associate Professor of Psychiatry at Harvard, and the subject was:
Treatment of Bi-Polar Disorder in the Alcoholic and Addict Population.
This is a subject near and dear to my heart, and other parts of my anatomy such as my liver.
Sadly the doc delivering the lecture was possibly the lamest speaker it has ever been my misfortune to hear. I looked at my dad and he leaned over and said “My God this is the lamest speaker I have ever heard.”
My suspicions were confirmed. The guy was bad.
Unfortunately I learned nothing new. The poor bastard didn’t have any more info than was already available, to both lay persons (that would be me) and physicians and psychiatrists (that would be my dad).
For instance; the rate of suicide for persons suffering a dual diagnosis (addiction and bi-polar) is far greater than that of the general populace or a patient diagnosed with one or the other.
Whoa! No way. This guy is a fucking genius.
No new treatments were discussed, no new meds, no new anything. The speaker was unorganized as well. If I want unorganized there’s always my life to review.
|After the meeting I had a cup of coffee and considered heading over to Cheers, on the other side of Boston Common. Where I could have a drink and ponder all of this and of course,
everybody knows my name.
Well my bags are packed. I’m ready to go.
Jesus I hate that friggin song.
Almost as much as: Please come to Boston in the…
So my bags are packed and I am off to Boston at 4:45 am.
The plane allegedly leaves the ground at 6:00 am but I called the cab company to come and pick me up at 4:45.
As you do.
Couldn’t bring myself to go out to the storage unit and get an actual suitcase, it would have been too depressing. All of the Cabin Fever inventory is in there, along with my books, antiques and other memorabilia.
So I did what was necessary; crammed clothes, toiletries, etc into two carry-on bags. Nice.
Got ironing boards?
It won’t be too bad where I’m staying. Not by a long shot.
Behold the Boston Park Plaza Hotel.
Built in 1927 and looking absolutely gorgeous and classic from the website.
The downside? I’m going to meet up with my family. Oh god THE HORROR.
Here’s the horror…
It’s an AA convention and conference. Yeah really.
My dad is an M.D. and has 25 years clean and sober. My step-mother is a black belt Al-Anon. I’ve been to this particular event before. Different city each year which is fun. International Doctors in Alcoholics Anonymous.
Oops. There goes the fucking anonymity thing.
My daughter will be there as well. My dad has paid for Cate (aforementioned daughter/demon seed) to attend as well. There’s an entire schedule for teens.
I have not seen my daughter since May when I sent her to live with her dad for a while.
I miss her. Every damned day.
I miss my dad as well.
He’s 75 and I last saw him at Thanksgiving. He looks like an aged gnome.
What the fuck. When did my parents get old?
This is so not right.
So I sit here, xanax at the ready in an attempt and get some sleep before the cab arrives.
It could happen.
So sayeth Miss Insomnia.
My plans for the week? Spend time with my daughter and father, when they are not attending meetings, CMA classes (for dad to keep his medical license accreditation) and other AA related stuff.
Other than that I plan on doing a lot of walking.
There’s a great Edward Hopper exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts this month. I’ve never been to Boston and I plan on taking full advantage of the historical sites, museums and maybe a trip to a brewery museum. Or two. Or three.
Oh yeah there’s the restaurants. Mmmm gimme that sea-food diet baby.
Thank Goddess there’s a gym at the hotel.
Alright kids see you in a week.
Don’t wait up but do say a prayer to the tree of your choice.
TK you can still meet me there.
John thanks for being a friend.
Gonzo thank you for watching Lizzie Borden. And being a friend. You’re the bestest. BTW the porn is under the TV in the bedroom.
I’m exhausted and nauseous this morning.
It was too hot to sleep last night and I didn’t want to leave all of the windows open. My apartment is on the ground floor and I was suffering a case of the paranoias.
Finally at 3:00am I grabbed a clean sheet from the closet, threw it over the couch in the living room, turned on the tiny AC unit in there and tried to sleep.
Still no luck.
I brought the fan out of the bedroom and pointed it directly at myself as well.
Finally fell asleep sometime around 4:00.
It’s hot already this morning.
I may go to a meeting this afternoon if I can stop sobbing.
Losing TK after losing my daughter is more than I can deal with. One of the reasons my daughter became so whacked-out was because I was seeing TK.
There were other reasons as well of course.
We spoke yesterday and he was civil to me. I did the usual last-pathetic-attempt to convince him he was wrong.
Pleading my case was pointless. I appeared foolish, pathetic and crazy.
As you do in these situations.
Juvenile threats to myself are empty. Hell I will not take a dirt nap, not with a daughter that I love.
I just want to lash out, to change what cannot be changed. To have a spark of optimism that one day I will see this man again.
To be forgiven.
To be cared for as I once was.
TK railed at me “how can you even consider doing anything so fucking stupid. You didn’t even know me 9 months ago.”
I do not see the logic in that idea. It does not take a specified amount of time to fall in love with someone. It could happen in a month, a year, a few weeks.
I love TK’s daughter and will never see her again either and here I am crying even harder.
There is no one in this world who gets me, or that I have found to be on the same par intellectually, or who finds the same things darkly humorous.
We could laugh at anything and anyone especially ourselves. The exact same phrase or idea would pop out of our mouths simultaneously.
We joked that pretty soon we’d have no need for words -smile-.
I wish for oblivion but not a drink.
I wish TK would forgive me.
I wish that I could forgive myself.
1.Do you still talk to the person you LAST kissed?
yes i do and have taken measures to make sure it stays that way
2. Have you ever seen your best friend cry?
3. What kind of vitamins did you take as a kid?
my mom was a health nazi… every kind
4.What was the last food you ate?
a dreyer’s fruit popsicle
5. Did you get any compliments today?
i don’t deserve any. ever.
6. Have you ever gone to court?
7. Whats the fifth text message in your inbox?
I don’t text. oh yeah. I don’t have a fucking phone anymore
8. Are you friends with your neighbors?
bwaahahahaha. what part of leave me the hell alone don’t you get.
10. What languages do your parents speak?
English and the ever popular Bitch.
11. What towns have you lived in?
Ready…? Philadelphia PA, Washington DC, Long Beach CA, Lakewood CA ,Idyllwild CA, Somerset CA, New York City, Hackensack NJ, Demerest NJ, Bear Lake MI, Crystal Lake MI, Reno NV
12. What’s the last piercing you got?
13. When was the last time you drove more than 15 minutes?
hell i can drive someone to drink in under 10
14. Do you get distracted easily?
what was the question?
15. Who do you like?
I like a man who likes everybody and everything.
Not really. that’s a lyric from an old 70’s song
16. Do you get jealous easily?
not as long as I’m sober –eye roll-. I am pathetic.
18. Have you ever played Spin the Bottle?
once in 9th grade
19. Have you ever toilet papered someone’s house?
and I would do this why?
20. Have you ever had a crush on your brother or sister’s friends?
no not ever.
21. Have you ever gone to a beach?
hey I used to live on the beach.
22. Have you ever had a stalker?
23. Do you remember your music teacher’s name from elementary school?
Mrs Presley. holy god where did that piece of information come from?
24. How good is your eyesight?
my eyesight is perfect. I’ve only worn glasses for 30 years because they look so hip
25. Have you ever gone to a party?
babe I have been the party
26. Would you ever want to swim with the sharks?
I already worked in the NYC finance industry
27. What would you say if I told you I was in love with your brother?
i’d say that my sister was looking pretty fucking bad these days
28. Have you ever been out of the country?
several times a week
29. Have you seen your best friend naked?
30. What’s the best wedding you’ve been to?
best wedding? oxymoron
31. Would your parents be mad if you got arrested for fighting?
considering I’m 5’2″ with an exceptionally non-athletic build and have never been arrested they would be simply perplexed.
32. Where are your sibling(s) right now?
what’s up with my sister. gah why don’t I just introduce you two?
34. What’s the last dream you can remember?
being happy. you said dream.
35. Who was the last person who called you?
36. What time did you wake up this morning?
somewhere around 8:00 am
37. What are you doing this weekend?
taking those barbells up to the attic
38. What does the 13th text message on your phone say?
wtf. no. phone. asshat.
39. What is the last item of clothing you bought?
industrial fishnet stockings
40. When was the last time you were really sick?
do not make me go there
41. Who’s the last celebrity you touched?
mmmm probably michael moore
42. What’s in your back pocket?
hey it’s my phone and my wallet! no. it’s lint. dammit.
43. Who is the last person you took a picture with?
TK… but you’ll never see those
44. What is the last thing you drank?
45. Do you wear colored contacts?
I wear glasses and rarely wear contacts. see above
46. How do you get to school?
47. What were you doing at 4am this morning?
running my shortcomings, mistakes, and self-hatred around in my brain
48. What do you usually do first in the morning?
get my lazy ass out of bed and push the button
49. Do you know anybody in the Army?
50. Who was the last person you went to the movies with?
my daughter of course
Currently listening :
Chicago – A Musical Vaudeville (1975 Original Broadway Cast)
By John Kander
Release date: By 12 November, 1996
Character defects are something everyone has in abundance.
Well except for me of course. -cue laughter from backstage-
Am attempting to incorporate three salient points, as opposed to Salinger points, into today’s musings and meditations
Never confuse boredom with serenity (Easy)
Never confuse drama with human interaction (VERY Difficult)
Never play cards with a cheating cat (Impossible)
Speaking of peculiar behavior (which is a specialty in these here parts) it was time for the monthly chat with Dr. Haveasquishy.
Sadly it’s a bitch to be honest with someone you don’t respect. Hell, I have a problem vocalizing feelings, terrors and thoughts to people I DO respect for fear that my less than brilliant contemplations will offend them and propel them screaming into the night.
We did have a decent session today and I was as honest as I’ve ever been with him.
Progress not perfection.
Am still suicidal and not yet homicidal so I need more couch time. Nothing like being the progeny of a psychiatrist AND growing up in L.A.
Nobody walks in L.A.
They all have therapists though.
Okay here’s what I learned this week:
1. If I am going to re-wire the end of an extension cord the white wire is the common, black is hot and green is ground. I don’t HAVE to use the green either.
2. Never dwell on a hurt or slight whether real or imagined. Mention it immediately and see if you’re being obsessive, overly sensitive or you’re right.
3. Raleys on Mayberry hires every tard in Old Southwest Reno. Surreal.
4. I’d forgotten how talented the singers of Manhattan Transfer were
5. A hub and a switch work differently. A computer on a switch runs faster (albeit imperceptibly) because packets traveling through a hub have to determine if the different computers connected to it actually receive that particular packet of information
6. The first dinosaur bone discovered in America was found in West Virginia and when presented in a scientific paper promptly ignored. The bone was given to a museum and promptly lost.
7. Experience is something you don’t get until just AFTER you fucking need it
8. Master of the House from Les Miserables is evilly tenacious and will not release your brain. UNLESS someone puts on Overkill by Men at Work which will immediately fuck you off with it’s insidious tune and lyrics.
9. Discontinuing a medication which has been in your system for 12 years without weaning down the dosage slowly puts your body into severe physiological and psychological withdrawl.
nausea, uncontrollable weeping, dizziness, stomach cramps, vertigo, inability to concentrate and it just gets better! Especially Effexor. Especially if you have not had organic chemistry since college and are not a doctor.
10. My Work is maintaining a tan for the benefit of all mankind
11. I need new business cards made up:
Rachael C. Black
Exectutive Ne’er Do Well
12. All the tinfoil in the world will not keep my whack-ass client from contacting me. if only he was a real client. If only I had not lost all of the tinfoil to lizzie in that poker game last weekend.
13. Lizzie Borden cheats at poker. This with no opposable thumbs. Bitch.
14. A teenager forgives pretty quickly and will begin to say I Love You again.
15. Do not walk behind me, for I will only lead into temptation. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me either. Just leave me the hell alone.
16. If you have to lose sleep, don’t do it alone
17. No matter what happens, there is always someone ready to tell you that it happened according to his/her pet theory.
Rachael’s Corollary I: No matter what happens, there is always someone ready to misinterpret what it means. A few times it’s been me.
18. Directly spraying kitchen ants with Clorox does NOT kill the bastards
19. Stephen Hawking can’t swim for shit
20. My mother saves every goddamned picture she ever took and today I find that I had a super fine do in 1985 -yark-
Yours in Suicidal Ideation and Non Sequiturs,
~The Still Fabulously Deranged Miss R
Dammit I forgot one. Thanks TK
if you’re hungry eat
if you’re thirsty drink
if you’re happy dance
If you’re tired… watch court tv
Living In Oblivion : The 80’s Greatest Hits, Vol. 1
By: Various Artists
Release date: 23 March, 1993
Oh yeah it’s that time again. The shiny hurty bright thing is up in the sky.
TK called at 4:00 this morning to see if I was awake because that’s what friends do right? I’m still grinning over that one. It takes a special kind of close friend to pull that off. On the bright side I was treated to tales of the doings of the downtown bar scene last night. I’m such a voyeur.
Hmmmm now there’s another blog in itself.
Went back to sleep after about an hour. Got up at 6:45 to make the coffee and realized that the only thing in the fridge to use in my java is leftover soymilk. Thanks Kiddo. I’m left with a freezer full of Morningstar and a full half gallon of –gag me- LIGHT vanilla soymilk.
The crap has a vaguely greenish tinge. One of my most pressing questions has always been… How do you know when soy milk goes bad? It looks bad the day it’s processed. Ugh.
|Of course I could run downtown to where a new Starbucks is being built.|
Of course we need a Starbucks downtown (she says in her most sarcastic voice which is outstandingly wicked). It’s going into the retail level of a new ultra-expensive condo building on the river. Great. There are two indie coffee places within a block of where Starschmucks is going in. Reno wants to be Vegas but it will never happen. All the construction, ripping out old hotels or re-building them as luxury apartments won’t fix anything.
In the 80’s we said that coke was God’s way of saying you make too much money (as I snorted 8-balls in my office on the 27th floor of Rockefeller Plaza). The modern Reno version replaces coke with Riverfront Condo.
Actually I’m at the age where living in a condo sounds okay.
Already did the material girl stuff including expensive cars, nice houses, snowmobiles, boats, blah blah blah. Did the yuppie scum thing in the 80’s; suit, Reeboks on my feet briefcase in hand taking the D Train into Manhattan.
Later on owned a business that allowed me to take vacations, buy my daughter all of the things I never had and make my home on the river a perfect retreat.
Now I’m older and starting over. Bending over to weed a yard is a pain in the ass, literally, and having a super in the building seems like a nice perk. I do miss that about living in The City. After NYC I never thought of living in a condo again but now….
So I start to check out the prices of these new dwellings on the Truckee River here in Reno.
The Montage: Gorgeous floorplans, gym, river view and $400K for a two bedroom unit.
The River Walk: Loft type units, all new appliances, gym, security building and $350K for a two bedroom unit.
You get the point. I could buy a damned house with a huge private backyard and hire Bubba the yard guy to do the weeding for that kind of money.
So I think I’ll stay here at Chez Hovel Noir and keep my back limber by weeding the greenery popping up in the asphalt cracks in Little Tijuana.
I’m becoming okay with living with what I have.
It isn’t much but it’s all I need.
Had it all, lost it all, found some money on the street and bought it all back again doncha know.
This place is in a pretty neighborhood and my piano and most of my books fit inside. I only need a vehicle to get into the mountains to ski and thank god I’ll never have to buy another expensive fucking suit. I have a bike to ride and club soda to drink. I don’t eat very reliably (or well) by myself. Thanks for keeping me curvy and fed TK.
Remember my credo: If I were to lose weight the wrinkles would show.
|Here’s my fridge now that the kid is no longer here. Gallons of club soda, hummus, capers and condiments.
Funny how your wants and needs tend to dovetail as you get older.
that’s the way ah ha ah ha I like it
ah ha ah ha.
By: Brian Setzer Orchestra
Release date: 01 August, 2000
My daughter started school in Idyllwild Monday. She starts a job after school this week as well.
Things will get better for her I know it, and this summer I will fly her out for a week at least.
The house is quiet and so odd without her.
I don’t miss the insane drama but I do miss her.
The past few days have been spent trying to relax in the sunshine. Keeping the aggressive and unceasing din of thought from overtaking my consciousness. Still, there have been hours occupied with pain, anomalistic behaviors and mental deductions. Luckily I’ve been left alone during those incidents to grieve and wallow in bits of self-pity instead of chastised for going to the dark place.
Seems there is some kind of damned platitude involving time healing.
Yeah. I’m all over it.
—written May 2, 2007——
So tomorrow morning my daughter is off to live with her father.
The flight leaves at 10:55 am and she starts school in Idyllwild on Monday.
This is destroying me.
There was another Chernobyl-worthy melt-down Saturday night, at which point I was treated to a verbal barrage equal only to Linda Blair’s character in the Exorcist.
‘Go FUCK yourself.’ You can’t make me stop swearing” Fuck you I don’t have to listen to you.’
All the while said demon was attempting to barricade itself into one of the rooms at TK’s house while intermittently threatening to break a drinking glass and slash her wrists. Oh yes, she also advised TK to go fuck himself as well.
What a great time was had by all. You shoulda been there.
This was the day after TK had allowed her to have a sleep-over there with three of her friends, where they were treated like the spoiled little wanna-be goth princesses they are. Tons of food, TV, late hours, a soak in the spa, etc.
I am exhausted and so very very lucky that TK is even speaking with me. Yeah I’m quite the friend:
“Excuse me TK? I have a surly 114 pound bag of screaming drama with me. May we please come in? Oh is it alright if she is abusive as hell to you for being kind?”
So after the door was besieged and psycho-child was removed to the kitchen table I called…. West Hills! On the drive over my loving daughter kept making attempts –not real or valiant enough- to jump out of the moving car. The machinations were enough to fucking piss me off and bring on an anxiety attack though.
Once there we were ushered into the office of Large Marge.
Oh I liked this bitch. She fucking rocks.
In this house the phrase ‘good morning’ is an oxymoron.
My usual first thoughts upon awakening are:
Ohfortheloveofgod I’m still alive
Did I get more than 3 full hours of sleep?
Sleeping alone sucks and I’m cold
Robert pointed out it’s been more than 10 days since I’ve posted a blog. Yikes. Bad Rachael. No spanking.
It’s been a strange few weeks. Busy and intense at times but mainly positive with smiles, new experiences and kind people.
Fear is my only real enemy. It kills the spirit, laughter and optimism.
Anger is fear turned inside out. When I become angry it is always based on a fear.
Too bad that knowing something on a logical level and taking it in emotionally are two separate courses though.
|Spent the weekend working.|
Deadlines from a client placed me in a position of torturous stress. Slept two hours on Saturday night and was back at work on the site at 5:30 am. All told I got 6 hours of sleep over a prior 72.
This site was supposed to be fully designed, functional and up and running by the time The Oscars aired. The client had purchased air time for the broadcast on a whim Thursday night. Two days prior to this she’d said not to worry since the kick-off date for the company was pushed back another 3 weeks.
Nothing like a two day warning to raise the blood pressure.
They rejected my first design but loved the second one. I’ve still got a hell of a lot of work to do on it though. Gotta say that my design was fab until they had me add 20 paragraphs of text to the index page. Ugh.
The remaining time slaving involves setting up their shopping cart and adding 160 items, including graphics for each one (full size and thumbnail thank you very much) along with enticing descriptions of the merchandise.
Here’s the dilemma: The client runs a company for ‘Ladies Night’ parties. Guess what the products are. Oh yeah...>..>..>..>
|How many adjectives can one concoct for vibrators, cock rings and other accoutrements of sexual pleasure?|
Speaking of which… what’s another name for thesaurus?
I’m completing the majority of design work when my daughter’s at school or in bed (or decorating her pink slippers with Anarchy symbols) Tonight she came in while I was on the phone with TK. There was a brochure on the desk showing some rather, um, graphic images.
It’s like playing hide and seek around here. Not the fun kind either.
I thank god every day that the kid still thinks that naked people are ‘gross’.
The funniest part of the whole gig is that they are paying me half in cash (a nice stipend even though I quoted them a painfully low rate because I needed the work) and half in product.
I need to re-pen the Alanis song….
It’s like a room full of toys
When you have no boyfriend
Or a ski pass at Rose on powder days
When you have to work
Isn’t it ironic
Maybe I can get in some skiing tomorrow morning before the phone calls start from my client list.
Okay there are only two of them. Sheesh you’re picky. It’s just that I’ve always wanted to say
“I have quite the power Client List, so bring me a bottle of your finest scotch garcon.”
Have also fantasized saying
“You’ll be hearing from my lawyers!” as well.
Well actually I have. It’s just that they were divorce lawyers.
Speaking of lawyers.
No. Let’s not.
So assuming I make it back alive from Mt Rose tomorrow, which also presumes I’ll make it up there, I’ll have to deal with my other client. Paranoid conspiracy theorist crazy guy.
I’ve come to a bizarre realization: people will pay you to hold their hand and listen to their weird crap. All this with a BFA in music. Praise Buddha.
You can’t make this stuff up.
Am seriously considering:
a) running away from home
b) going to beauty school and doing nails and popping gum for a living
c) divesting myself of whiny needy clients.
d) taking up a kick-ass smack habit
Dear god. I might as well be married again.
At least these guys are paying ME and I’m not the one losing their shirt.
Of course with over a thousand dollars in wonderful merchandise coming my way from client number one I’d like to lose my shirt.
Dammit I’m single.
Isn’t it Ironic.
Two Worlds/ Grusin & Ritenour
By: Dave Grusin & Lee Ritenour
Release date: 12 September, 2000