“Let’s do the time warp …”
What a weekend so far.
There has been someone on my mind for years. A friend that left such an impression on me, that after life took us in different directions – I found myself thinking of him a lot.
Wondering what ever happened to him. Laughing at silly things we did. Smiling at the memories of us trying to put a comic book together based on a short story I wrote in college. Sighing at the night he was there for me – during a very difficult time in my life.
I missed my friend.
A lot.
I have searched through the years – internet searches, inquiries to mutual friends – nothing. I searched Facebook and could not find him.
I have art he drew for me – poems he wrote for me.
One poem in particular played a huge role in an intense conversation I had with my son about a year ago.
I won’t go into details.
Suffice it to say, I wanted to reconnect. I wanted to find out how he was. Was he happy? Was he still drawing? Was he married with children?
I found a mutual friend on Facebook, who I’ve also looked for over the years, and lo and behold – he was friends with the person I was looking for.
I couldn’t have been happier. Sent friend request and waited.
He accepted my friend request. (Isn’t that funny? Your ‘real life’ friends have to approve your request for friendship.)
I got to speak to him via the internet today.
I type fast – very fast. And bombarded him with ‘OMG’s’ and a million questions.
Of course one of the questions was if I could share some of his art with you here. I won’t know until we talk again. But, trust me when I say, if I DO get to share it – your socks will be blown off.
A-freaking-mazing.
I was shocked to see a couple of his photos on his page were of drawings he did of characters from my short story ‘Purple Haze’.
No. Not the song.
I maintain to this day that I hadn’t heard the Hendrix title when I wrote that story.
My dad had been to New York, I begged him to get me something, anything from Bloomingdale’s.
He came back with a see-through phone with pink neon inside. With my lights out at night, my bedroom was awash in purple light. THAT is where the name to my story came from.
Anyway, I was so inspired by our chat, that I decided to go to my mom’s house, over the river (yes, really. No woods to go through though.) and finally retrieve my box containing memories and my writing from college.
Got it home and with nervous excitement, I opened what felt like a time capsule.
Oh SO many things in there! Photos, letters, autographed books, the scripts and press kits from Hannibal and Silence of the Lambs. Yearbooks and primary school work books. Nic’s ‘first year’ calendar. A love letter from someone – I have no idea who?!
And, my creative writing folder.
I took it out gently, as if I were holding the holy grail. In my head, golden light bathed the room and intense ‘ta-da’ chord came out of nowhere (you know what I mean, that angelic-climactic sound.)
I opened the folder.
Purple Haze part 2. Okay …
Some poems.
Some works by fellow creative writing classmates.
Hand written short stories.
No Purple Haze part 1.
Noooooooooooooooooooo!!!
It has to be somewhere. I’ll have to search through more boxes – I have lots and lots of ‘memory boxes’. No, I’m not a hoarder – I’m sentimental. I keep every note, every card, every picture.
If it’s meant to turn up, it will. Like my friend, after 20 years of searching.
And I will share one picture with you – because it says ‘To Amanda’ on it and I think that means I’m allowed to?
(I really need to google that whole ‘what can I post on my blog without permission’ thing one day.)
The day I gave a non-existent kitten the cold leg
Ever have one of those moments when you’re busy pouting, and ‘cut off your nose to spite your face’ as ‘they’ say?
You know, that mood usually reserved for teenagers or PMSing females.
That mood when you’re likely to say ‘no’ to something amazing (like cake) just because you’re not done being grumpy. Even though you really want the something amazing (like cake.) Yeah.
My boss offered to get me a sandwich (not cake), and I was hungry. But stubbornly pissed. “No thank you.”
My inner hungry person was wide-eyed and asking me “What are you DOING?! We WANT the sandwich.”
I looked at her, (yes, I have perfected the eye roll to the point of being able to literally see the inside of my head) and she backed off.
Must have been quite a look.
That’s when I realized … I had reached that mood today.
As I told my friend Ruth who I sought out to vent to at, “If a kitten was rubbing up against my leg right now, I’d move my leg away … even if I wanted to pet it.”
Petty pouting perfected.
I was slammed at work today. And every time I quickly returned from the scanner or printer, I noticed my boss on the internet.
That bothers the crap out of me. I work my arse off, and believe me, I’m not the one getting the commission. I could have used some help.
I digress.
Remember the fan that a customer brought me? Out of the goodness of his heart? In a random act of kindness? The one I had a really hard time accepting, because I have the hardest time accepting anything from anyone? No? Read more of my posts, you’ll see that moment. Or, just click HERE.
Now, yesterday (or was it Wednesday?) ‘Fan Guy’ comes in and plops himself down at my desk and has me make copies for him and fax something for him. Not work related. A personal favor (he’s a friend of my boss.)
Okay, I can accommodate that – (after my inner busy person made the snide ‘let me just drop everything’ comment in my head.)
As I was preparing to stand up and ‘accommodate’, he turned to my boss and said, “She’s my indentured servant, working off that fan.”
WHAT?
I felt about one inch tall!!
My jaw might have hit the floor had it not been clenched in a major effort not to say out loud what my inner busy person was saying at that moment. I shan’t repeat it. It wasn’t pretty.
Don’t do that. Don’t give someone a gift and lord it over them. Don’t make comments like that people. Just don’t.
I felt awful. As if I didn’t already have a hard enough time receiving gifts, that further cinched it for me.
Back to today.
So I’m slammed and already getting a little grumpy – when ‘fan guy’ comes back. I was entirely too busy to even make eye contact. Or was I still just entirely too humiliated and pissed to make eye contact?
Hmmm … no matter. He must have sensed the temperature of my shoulder and sat at my boss’s desk this time.
It was shortly after that visit that I stomped scurried off to vent to my friend.
I decided as my lip quivered and my blood pressure rose, that I needed a break. And a major attitude adjustment.
So I took a rare lunch and drove. Just drove. Then turned around, took a deep breath and returned to work.
I keep counting my blessings – but some days my inner whiner makes a pretty good case about being allowed to occassionally take a moment to acknowledge that some things just suck.
Then my inner grateful person (she’s taller than the whiner, and smarter too) takes over quickly and get’s us all back on track.
It’s Friday. I’m home. Groceries are purchased (thanks to my job) AC is blowing cool air (thanks to my job) and I’m chatting with my son on my ipad (who went clubbing for the first time ever, in the UK) thanks to my wifi (again, thank you job.)
So – if any kittens found my leg now, I would pet them. That’s if Butters didn’t eat them.
(But if she did – she’d be grateful.)
**Disclaimer: No kittens, imaginary or real were or ever would actually be harmed by Butters**
I love my dentist ^_^
It’s toothday Tuesday. The mysterious chipping of my front tooth has been remedied, but the mystery of how it happened may never be known.
If I run into Scooby Doo, I don’t even think it’s worth putting him on the case. I have other mysteries he can put those meddling kids on.
I love my dentist! And his assistant Laura.
We always have the nicest chats “Hi friend!” She says as I enter ‘the’ room.
Worst part of the whole procedure was what I called ‘the sandpaper shoelace’ They called it floss. They didn’t have it in between their teeth. I’m pretty sure my identification of the item was the correct one.
Still numb, but couldn’t be more pleased with the results.
Do not be afraid – GO to your dentist. Do it. And if you already do – then go hug your dentist.
“Here’s smiling at you kids” (yes, I said that in my head with a Humphrey Bogart Casablanca voice as I typed)
Debauchery Soup (Okay, everything but soup)
This weekend was pure culinary debauchery. I ate a ridiculous amount of food.
Somehow this was all that was left of 2 dozen fresh baked cookies (Cranberry white chocolate and chocolate chunk in case you’re wondering)
Yeah, that would make 19 that I consumed yesterday. I do not know how. I just know that the proof is in the picture. (I ate one this morning if you’re doing the math and not coming up with 19)
I also had a healthy baked potato for lunch. Albeit, it was hidden under sour cream, cheese, red bell peppers, spring onions and Southwest chicken pieces.
I did take time to play with the food a little before indulging. These were my ‘left over veggie flower’ photos:
It didn’t stop there. I was still hungry after my potato. So I tried for healthy:
Then skipped to unhealthy and had two bowls of this fun cereal. (Let me tell you, they do NOT skimp on the marshmallows!)
This comfort eating has to stop.
And it has for now … as I noticed that between the time I brushed my teeth this morning, and approximately 1:00 pm, I had broken my front tooth!!
I don’t bite down on my front teeth – so I have no CLUE how I did it. But done it is.
I feel like I look like this:
But it really looks like this:
See – the tooth above the ‘S’.
Ug! So, back to the dentist tomorrow.
Anyway, back to food.
I’m known around the office for being thin, yet always eating. So it was no surprise when a realtor came to me to ask about a plate of cookies that mysteriously appeared on her desk with an illegible thank-you card.
Surely she didn’t think I left them?? A) I would never leave cookies unattended and B) I would never part with cookies.
I’m leaving you a treat – it would be something wrapped and sealed so tight I couldn’t be tempted to get into it.
I was however, able to make a positive ID for her on what the hand that was holding said plate of cookies looked like.
Hey, if cookies are walking by the office, my radar goes off. I could also confirm that the cookies were shaded by a hat on the head of unidentified cookie bearer and that the delivery occurred on Friday afternoon.
I’m so helpful.
If ever called to help police as a witness, their suspect better have been holding food.
Tonight, I fast.
It’s not going to be hard … as I brought a banana for breakfast – cheese, salad and turkey sandwich and tortilla chips for lunch, and then my boss announced he’d brought chili for us. Score!
This is my actual stomach – and it is grateful. But it had better not get used to such feeding frenzies.
I’m done!
Wait … would you look at the dogs food!!!
It’s what you say when you’re alone …
This is my 10th day alone in the house. I’ll preface the rest of the crap I’m about to type with the following: I don’t mind hanging out alone. I like myself. Therefore, I like my company.
Now onto the crap.
It’s quite a thing to spend time with ‘you’. Only you. Face to face with you you you. No buffer – no distraction.
I was doing okay.
Although, I’ve gained 7 pounds – which, will please those who believe me to be underweight, but it doesn’t please me.
Been talking to myself (and the dog) a lot.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not that you do talk to yourself, what you have to pay attention to is what you are saying when you’re alone.
My verbal quips have been quite upbeat – so I’m no lost cause by any means. Yet.
Last week, every work day felt like it needed to be Friday. It was quite possibly the longest week in history. By Thursday, a little ‘lonely’ was creeping in once I did get home. Couldn’t sleep.
Put ear buds in and decided to dance.
Just dance.
I took the volume all the way up to 11 and busted some moves to this:
It felt great. Seriously. No matter what your genre of choice is – tell me you can’t turn this up and not at least tap a toe. C’mon. Try.
I happen to love everything from Public Enemy to Mozart – so I’m all over the place with my musical escapes.
Then I slept naked. Yup. I went for it. I was modest in front of the dog though.
Then came the weekend.
I was so ready for Friday. OH so ready.
My heart has been hurting lately, and not for any physical reasons.
The heart breaker is feeling her heart breaking. And it sucks.
Then I stumbled upon this welcome distraction:
I wish I had written down every single quote that made my jaw drop in ‘OMG – that is SO true’ or ‘OMG – that is SO me’ fashion – because I couldn’t find any of them online. I’ll be paraphrasing this amazing show that I finished watching all 13 episodes of Season 1 of today.
Orange Is The New Black is AMAZING. And lives up to its tagline – ‘Every sentence is a story’. The writing is phenomenal.
Abso-fucking-lutely amazing.
There was a moment when Piper, the main character, is having her hair washed by a fellow inmate. She says something along the lines of ‘it just feels so good to be touched.’ Yeah.
I know that feeling. Not sex. Just … to be touched. By another human being. A hug – a shoulder rub – a tug of the hair. Just – human contact.
Of course, it’s Saturday, so I will be leaving the house. To another place with no other humans. Besides my full-time weekday job – I do a side job. Not only do I process the loans for the realtors I work with, I scrub their toilets and empty their trash too.
From solitary to work detail. A furlow. LOL!
I AM GRATEFUL. I feel I need to say that.
But – to be honest, I wish I didn’t have to have a side job. It’s something I take pride in, but as I’m cleaning for that extra income, I do feel a bit sad.
I work really hard but, what have I done for me?
I won’t let anyone else do anything FOR me – and I don’t have the energy or motivation to change my situation. There’s a problem.
I got Nic out of the Country … and he’s having a great time in England. So that counts.
Meanwhile, I’ve become this self-imposed Segregated Housing Unit.
I’ve got to find out if I’m waiting in vain for something my heart wants – and take the time to get over that dream if that is the case.
And find another dream.
Not another person – let me be clear on that too. Because it’s taken me my whole life to stumble upon someone whose heart I would not break.
I don’t have the desire to entertain the notion of anyone else.
There’s so much more I want to purge onto this virtual page – but can’t. I hate that.
I hate editing myself.
Perhaps that’s why I talk out loud in the privacy of my home – why I dance when no one is watching.
And Netflix, could you hurry up with Season 2?
Debauchery Soup 