Dancing the Tango is a good way to illustrate how I feel about my life right now.
I didn't sleep all night, I stayed up organizing my gift card collection and only managed to get one and a half drawers done. This little project is taking so long to accomplish. I've been buying greeting cards and postcards for forever and I have this perfect piece of furniture to put them in. Sometimes I worry that it might have been made in some sad slave laborish way because it came from Cost Plus and was so cheap. It has lots and lots of drawers that are the perfect size for cards. So I stuffed it with them and they're all so jumbled up that when a holiday or a birthday comes around I wind up having to buy more cards because I don't ever have the time to mess with digging around in the drawers. I am in early Spring-Cleaning-Get-My-Damned-Life-Toget
I just have so much to deal with. So much that I neglected when I was wallowing around in my broken hearted overweight misery -- trapped in a heavy body that just wouldn't allow me to get up and get things done anymore. I don't mean to put myself or any other large-sized, lush, or zaftig person down, (I love big people, I really, really do, they're more sensitive and loving, deeper and more feelingful, well, at least that's my unfair and biased assessment of the situation based on a whole hell of a lot of personal experience, we'll just leave the angry fat person stereotype aside for the time being, I'm still working through that one), I'm grateful I had a coping mechanism or I don't know if I could have survived all of the loss and upheaval of the last several years, the serious change when I am so afraid of change.
I think that basically I'm a Punxsutawney Phil the frightened by his own shadow groundhog or a big baby bear who wants to be in permanent hibernation mode when it comes to pain and fear. But now that I am free of some of my physical chainage I see how much has been left undone and there is only me here to get it all done. I had Irma and sometimes I have Esther, I have a half Beau and Scott in his rare free time but mostly I feel like I'm all alone. Not that I have a right to feel sorry for myself here, I made these choices but I'm definitely afraid. Oh man I just got it, my super delayed New Year's Resolution. Last year's was all about change, this year will be about defeating fear and moving through it. Right on Miss Jacqui. Took you a while.
I have a whopping twenty thousand dollars worth of dentistry to deal with, well, if you listen to Dr. Famous Dentist to the Stars and the King of Extreme Makeovers Dorfman, but I've decided not to listen when he charges three times what everyone else does ($2,000.00 for a crown and $450.00 for a filling), and I'm going back to Dr. I Don't Use Silver Mercury and I'm a Little Bit Too New Agey For Jacqui But My Price Is Right Even Though My Teeth Aren't As Pretty or As Hollywood Silkman. Besides he's Persian and I'm nuts about anything or anyone Persian. Rock on
Anyway last night I stayed up working on cleaning out this piece of furniture. It's in my little walk in closet and I'm turning that into a dressing room. This was supposed to be my husband's closet before he ran off with the stripper and I think I never got it together and made it my own because I am deeply loyal in my own strange way and was so attached to him that it's taken me five years to begin to claim this closet as my own. Weird.
I let the cats pee in there and made a huge mess of it. I refused to put a door on it or really complete building it. It became this metaphor for my being stuckness, unable to let go of the past and unable to move forward. Anyway this piece of furniture is in there and I think it will be better served for jewelry and girly things, maybe, so I'm clearing out the cards. It blows me away how much crap a person, or I can accumulate, wow. So I stayed up most of the night watching TV and sorting cards. It was kind of fun but I'm paying for it now. I tried to go to sleep a couple of times but our new kitty kept playing with my fingers and mewing. Then I finally gave up and got up and played on line for a while and then went back to bed at eight-thirty this morning.
Now I have to go get my little monkey and take him to fix his cell phone (so he'll answer the damned thing when we call, twice last week he had me thinking he'd been kidnapped or had run off with the runaway kids in Santa Monica, something, anything that would terrify an overly dependent mother, when he wasn't where he was supposed to be when Irma went to pick him up after school), and his electric guitar, the black one with the skulls on it. How did I go from being the mother of this perfect little baby boy with the blonde hair and blue eyes who wore the cutest little baby outfits to this wild surly slumping boy with dyed black hair and a garage band? Oh I know, I raised him. I'm unconventional. I'm surly and wild. I go around naked all the time. I took him to Burning Man. I swear a lot. I'm lazy and slumping and I dye my hair wild colors, sometimes. Duh.
Anyway I have to get going I have boxes of things to open that I couldn't afford to buy from HSN and I've got to pick up the monkey.
Look all I really care about is that I'm a good Mother to my dear son, a good wifeling/girlfriend to my lover and partner Scott, a good daughter to my Mom -- and Lord knows this is hard to do with all the financial strings we have going between us, a good caregiver to my animal friends, a good friend to my friends, a good boss, a good business woman, a good block captain to my neighbors, a working actor and artist, a user of my gifts, someone who is able to effectively channel her muse into art... Shit! That's a lot and I haven't even warmed up. Hunh.
When am I going to fit in co-designing a website, moving all of my stuff back into the garage, advertising for and hiring a new assistant, organizing and cleaning my office, calling the gal from The Art Deco Society to get going on Mom and Granny's Spring fashion show, giving Susan her Christmas present, calling all of my friends, visiting all of your journals, making collages, getting back to my knitting, waxing my pubes, listing things for sale on eBay and moving into my new case at Wertz Brothers Antique Mall, to say nothing of losing more weight, exercising, getting a full lower body, thigh and boob lift, taking pictures and finding a new agent and getting acting work again, sigh, big huge freaking out, maybe I should find a permanent online supply of Valium, sigh. Okay I'll modify all of this to; all I really care about is being able to stay awake and healthy enough to be able to still want to have sex with my man tonight. And I have to fix Beau's damned cell phone and skull head guitar. I'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow Miss Scarlet. How's that?
PS: And I didn't even try to describe my dreams to you... babies, I've been dreaming about babies, sex, men's shirts, playing with monkeys, circus acrobats, wearing beautiful clothes, big rocks and the ocean.
This one is for Beau even though he won't get it until it's all over.