Wednesday, December 31, 2008

A Quickie

Random-Ish and spaghetti-like...

  • I find it SO very amusing that while some folks find boobs or full nudie pix to be erotic, a picture of a bellybutton has caused quite a stir. Really, it makes me laugh. It's a belly-button. Not a nipple. Or a full nude. But a picture of a belly-button has gotten almost as many comments as my BlueNude did at Pratt... the one in which you can't see a thing. You only THINK you can. I somehow think this says something about life but I'm not feeling "deep" enough to figure out what it is.


  • The other day I fought myself about going to Karate. Myself won, and I went... but I didn't take my normal route up there, and it threw me a little. Consequently I left my gi and my gloves on the goddamn bus. I went because I wanted to work out... but I also went cuz it was Nene's birthday and I wanted to say happy birthday. He was being flirtatious again, which made me laugh. I told him I'm not tangling with Babymama, and he'll never leave her. So we're left to suggestives but that's OK.

  • My mother is now on Crackbook. I have no shelter from the family in which to air my crazies. So blogging it is.

  • I got to see LilacBlue and Fatlady today, Fatlady very briefly but it's amazing how attached I can be to some people... and how much I miss them when I don't see them. Both of those ladies fall into that category.

  • On Christmas when I went with Shoefly to BigSister's house, I had given each family member a picture from my show with BigBear. I had nothing else to give, literally. And I wanted to give them each something because they've been so good to me through the years... and they always give me presents. I had one for BigBrother, too, who in temperament is an awful lot like ShoeFly. And extraordinarily self-centered. He was wallowing and so didn't come to Christmas Eve this year (though in all honestly, I suspect a girlfriend he didn't want to share with the family since his ex-wife--who has become a sister in the family--was there. And will always be there. But I digress.), and I'd had a picture for him. But since he wasn't there I gave it to his son and DIL (she of coquito fame). I heard from Shoefly today that when he heard they all got pictures, he wanted to know where his was. I laughed. Luckily I have another I can give him...

  • I had a meeting with a client upstate today. The client came recommended to me by The Cuban, a former boss of mine. Who I'd had an affair with. And when I had to go back to SD, he got mad and made my life hell and I quit. Walked out... and a month later 9/11 happened. And I realized there'd be no tech jobs for awhile so I should go ahead and fulfill my dream of artschool. I credit the Cuban with changing my life. I'd had genuine feelings for him so I can't really hate him though I probably should. But you know me... I shit where I eat and I make my own messes so I don't go around blaming other people for my fuck-ups. But he does owe me and it was nice for him to pay up. Although this morning when I'd texted him a preliminary quote (he says he's paying) he offered to pay me in sex.

    Oh, yah. That's useful.

    I told him no, sex wasn't going to pay the bills, but thanks for the offer. Fucker. And yes... I'll make sure somebody signs a contract. Although recently I did some work for his firm and he paid.

  • I've made my New Year's resolution. It is to be a Better Bitch. I used to be an Amazing Bitch... self-contained, self-centered. Did my own thing and didn't really stop to weigh consequences or feelings before I did anything. Was willing to have several boyfriends at the same time... one paid my Amex Bill, one looked amazingly good on my arm and the other one was amazing in bed. Then I started falling in love with motherfuckers and my life went downhill. So this year I think I'm just going back to being a bitch. If I'm going to be single for the rest of my life I should get something out of it, I think. Cuz at the moment I'm not seeing that playing fair and being empathetic is getting me anywhere,

    but y'all know that's me talking shit. Cuz it's just my nature anymore. But I'm gonna try...

Monday, December 29, 2008

The Internet is a Wonderful Thing

Random-Ish.... in the category of Things That Amuse the Piss Out Of Me/subcategory, games people play.

The online world is an interesting one. Many of us oldskoolers were around back in the days of BBS's and Compuserv... back when there were no pictures or "profiles" and you had to type everything. And the very early days of AOL. Then Groups. There was such a thing as "netiquette" back then. We were careful not to "flame" each other.

I've been alone for so long that a constant in my life has always been the online world. I haven't quite gotten around to Twitter only cuz really... I can only obsess on one thing at a time, and when I'm obsessed I'm consumed. And I haven't gotten into the virtual reality role-playing places either, like SecondLife just cuz I don't need to. I peeked... it was hellafun but a drug I knew to leave alone.

I'd played with MySpace but it's clunky compared to Crackbook. Part of Crackbook's appeal is the lack of anonymity. It's also part of what's scary about it. I can see that some people are guarded with themselves, and many more people "limit" their profiles since they are actually using their true identities. But some of the "games" that were played on MySpace are played on Crackbook, and the one game I hate is the stalkerchick game.

You know... "I'm not really with this guy but I'm keeping him in pocket... so let me add all his female friends as my friends."

The other aspect to that game is "Let me post a bunch of shit to his page/profile to let everyone know I got dibs."

On MySpace it goes a step further where they change their profile names to actually reflect things like that... such as "I'm His Queen So Haters Step Off" or "Call Me Masturbation Cuz I'm Feelin' Myself" or "I am THAT bitch" or some such nonsense.

I know you can choose not to "add" someone as a friend... but that's part of the game. Cuz if you don't accept the request the chick that requested you will doubly suspect you. Sometimes you add the bitch so you can watch her, too. Sometimes you add her cuz you know she just outed herself.

The other part is deleting people. It's always interesting to see who gets deleted as a friend. Some people get deleted over and over. Nene stopped adding me back after awhile. My friend. Have I mentioned that as friends go, I value him more and more? I doubt I'll ever fool around with him again... I don't even think I'm that attracted to him now but having gone through all that and still liking him as a person has taken the freindship to an interesting depth.

Anyway...I play a little bit... it's too tempting not to. Especially cuz I'm single. But on the other hand I'm 43 and real life dating games annoy the fuck out of me... and the online games piss me off even more. Every so often I have to post something specifically calculated to let folks know I'm on to them. It pisses me off to stoop to that level, but fuck it. I have no life. It's another one of those things that amuses me yet pisses me off at the same time.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And speaking of real life dating games. Last year or so I'd lamented how very much I hated dating and that I didn't want to do it. This year I dabbled with horrendous results. At the verge of 2009 I'm not sure where I stand. I'm too old for this shit... but on the other hand I'm tired of being alone, so I guess I kind of have to. Cuz I'm still on my ride-or-die mission but having gotten a taste of what's there I'm more annoyed than ever. And it's not like I haven't met people this year... I have actually. Some I don't even mention cuz one look is all it took. But I'm no good at the game, I know that much. Cuz I just hate the game. I'm still an all-or-nothing chick. And after all the bullshit this year I'm more all-or-nothing than ever before. I think this year the trick will be to give nothing for a much longer period of time.

But it's hellafun to watch other people's dating dances. One dance in particular has amused me because for whatever reason one of the participants is very open about shit... and gives me intimate details. And I do mean intimate... definitely not for the faint of heart. Definitely in the "TMI" category. But I listen, and I observe, and it all goes into the little databank of a brain I have. You never know when intimate details of one situation will go to help you understand another situation.

Tonight I got a phone call with an update on the dance... Participant "A" had called Participant "B" because they wanted to discuss something. The L Word. Seems Participant "B" had let fly with a phrase containing that word because said participant was piss-ass drunk. Now weeks later Participant "A" wanted to make sure that while the phrase was acknowledged, Participant "A" didn't want to hurt "B". "A" wanted to make sure that "B" knew the feeling wasn't mutual. They didn't "♥" "B". They loved "B" as a person. They even "adored" "B". But they didn't "♥" "B".

"OK...." said "B". "B" then asked "A" if "A" was sleeping around.

"Well, no."

"Oh," said "B", relieved. "B" had actually expected "A" to say that they were. "B" said they didn't really care whether "A" "♥"ed them or not. "B" was more concerned with the double-dipping.

Then somehow the conversation changed to the use of um, prosthetics, because "A" wanted to come over and "watch a movie" but "B" wasn't feeling up to snuff and didn't want to. And "A" made some snide reference to the use of prosthetics... and was seemingly upset at the prospect.

Which amused the hell out of "B"... particularly since "B" isn't "♥ed", merely "adored". And "A" was jealous of a prosthetic.

I laughed my ass off.

But again I'm annoyed. Who has time for that shit??? What the hell is wrong with loving somebody, and saying it? Bigbear says Poppy told her that... that he didn't love her. She said "That's OK, I love you enough for the both of us." But that just doesn't fly these days...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Skype is a wonderful thing. An amazing thing. Who would have EVER imagined it... back in the days of dial-up and Compuserv???? A free video conference. I remember back in my working days when one of my offices got video conferencing. What a big deal. Cost money. Now you just download Skype from the Internet, hook up a webcam and for FREE, goddammit--FREE--you can talk to anyone anywhere in the world. In real time.

We started using Skype a few weeks ago so the Sun could talk to his dad. And this week, cuz the Sun is in Cali I used it to talk to him. Ugh. I miss him terribly. It has put my whole world in a tailspin but mostly I try not to think about him. His face. His frizzy hair. His ginormous eyes. So tonight on Skype I got to see him... frizzy hair, big teeth and ginormous eyes. The room was kind of dark (SD always had a thing about conserving energy and turning off all the goddamn lights) so really the main light in the room was the soft blue glow from the computer monitor. My kid's eyes looked even bigger than normal in that light. My Peanutbutter. The first time I laid eyes on him I remember his huge eyes staring right back at me. He comes home Friday... I can't wait. But in the meantime thank God for the Internet. And for Skype.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Last night I attended a Virtual Dance Party. A High School friend of mine was co-hosting an all-night House/Dance music fest on WBAI. Jay Smooth of Illdoctrine fame was running a live video feed from his HipHop Music site. Two of my highschool friends were online on Crackbook, joking back and forth with each other and our friend the DJ. At one point one of the HS friends even texted me on my phone.

I was online for most of it. The music was pumping. The video feed had a "chat" feature, and a bunch of us losers/dateless/no-life-having motherfuckers (or maybe that was just me plus some other folk who just happened to not have anything to do that night) stayed on almost all night... chatting with each other, watching the real life people in the station spin records and drink beer. Finally at about 2A enough people at the station were tipsy enough to get up and start dancing. It was vastly entertaining. A desk at the station was streaming MMA fights, so not only could the feedwatchers watch real life, we could also watch the MMA fights and comment on them, too. The Ultimate in Loserdom. Yeah, that's right. I have no life. But I have one hell of a virtual life.

Kinda reminds me of the deeper concept behind "Wall•E". Really, we're not all that far from that....

Sunday, December 28, 2008

People Make The World Go Round

..and amuse the hell out of/annoy the fuck out of me in the process.

Some Random-Ish from the past few days....

Friday when it snowed and it was the day after the Sun's school winter concert (they were brilliant by the way, my little kiddie friends) we overslept by hours. Which is just as well... the Sun was tired and had been begging for a day off and I hadn't been able to sleep anyhow, and plus we both needed our hair done.

So we came into the city by subway. It was snowing off and on but there was already a goodly amount of snow on the ground.

Around Parkchester, some rowdy Dominican High School kids got on, throwing snow at each other and roughhousing. I know they were Dominican cuz they were talking about it and trying to out-DR each other. I remember being a rowdy teen on the subway, and usually I let stuff go by me, and usually within a few stops folks settle down.

But two in particular were overstepping themselves, and at every stop one of them would step outside the car (we were still above ground), scoop up armloads of snow and bring it in to the car, where they would proceed to make snowballs and throw them at each other. The Sun and I were sitting in a corner seat and were out of the way but further down the car a few people sat, one of them an elderly gentleman. A snowball grazed him on its way to the intended target--another teen--and the guy jumped and brushed himself off and never looked up or made eye contact with the offending teen.

This pissed me off... not so much because the guy got hit... not so much because the teen barely acknowledged what he'd done, but because the old man was intimidated enough not to make eye contact. I was on the phone with CrazyNicaraguanChick but I got mad enough to yell at the kid "HEY! You all need to stop that. Stop bringing snow in here!"

They ignored me. This pissed me off even more. But I noticed that the majority of the group had gotten off, and the few remaining kids began to shift uncomfortably and sat down. Except for the two assholes. At the next stop, as if to prove his point that he was young and invincible, the kid brought in and even larger pile of snow, dumping it on the seat. A middle-aged, stockily built, bald-headed Hispanic man got on and sat down. The snow sort of slid down his way, and he reached out to stop it with his hand, but I could see the wheels click in his head that he was going to let the incident go. He made himself small, put on his headphones and sat down.

But the big kid got bolder. And I got madder. Especially because the Sun was sitting next to me, and was also getting a little nervous. "Mommy, can we move to another car?" "No," I said. "I'm not tolerating bad behavior today. Not today". I said it loudly enough for the kids to hear, catching the Hispanic dude's eye in the process. I noticed he nodded. I said to him "they are being so disrespectful, I HATE when kids act like that!"

At the next stop when the kid brought in even more snow and dumped it on the seat, I finally couldn't take it anymore. CNC heard I wasn't paying attention to her anymore and hung up. We were still above ground, and I looked around the car, sizing up who was going to back me up if there was trouble, and calculating how long it would take Transit Police to reach us if I dialed 911. In the meantime I yelled at the kid "YO!!! STOP THAT! STOP PUTTING SNOW ON THE SEAT! You're making it dangerous for people, AND, nobody can sit there now cuz it's all wet!"

The little fucker looked at me and said "well then they can just go in the next car then!"
"You know what?" I said to him, "You're just being plain old disrespectful, and you KNOW you're being disrespectful!" But I realized he wasn't going to stop. I was fuming. The Hispanic dude across from me took off his headphones.

The skinnier kid of the two suddenly felt his balls and yelled at the guy "WATCHOO LOOKIN AT GRANDPA, WHATCHOO GON DO!".

Hispanic dude exploded. "I'm telling you, you don't want none of this. I'm warning you, don't mess with this. It's NOT something you want to do". And then he got up very slowly, took off his jacket and folded it neatly on the seat, took off his hoodie, folded that neatly as well and placed it next to his jacket, and then sat down. Without his headphones.

The kids got off two stops later with some verbiage but no real fanfare. I looked at the Hispanic dude and laughed. "I just wasn't in the mood to tolerate that shit today. I'm tired of these kids thinking they can get away with everything." The Dude laughed.

The Sun looked mortified, trying to look as small as he possibly could, frantically playing his DS. I looked at him and said "and if I EVER catch you acting like that I'm gonna bust your ass!!!" The Dude laughed. The Sun kind of giggled.

When we were getting off the train, the Dude said to the Sun "You take care of your mom" and the Sun smiled. I asked him, the Sun, if he had been scared, and he said "I was scared of YOU, Mom! I've never heard you yell like that!"

Which is kinda funny, cuz I yell at the kid all the time, but I guess he hasn't ever really seen me go at it with other people, cuz it's not something I do often. I puff up like I will, but I rarely really go all out.

I told him I didn't mean to scare him, and I told him why I felt comfortable taking the kids on... that the "pricklies" on the back of my neck that indicate mental issues/unpredictability hadn't gone off, so I knew the kids were merely being bullies and weren't really crazy. If I'd felt they were mentally unstable or high, I wouldn't have tangled with them. And I had also felt that the Spanish dude would back me up, because he looked "Oldskool" enough not to let a young kid mess with a woman when the woman was in the right. It was a risk... but it was pretty calculated. And I told the Sun all this so that he would practice observing things and behavior around him, in order to be able to gauge the safety level of his environment.

Plus, I knew if somebody came at me I was mad enough to beat their ass...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Christmas Day when CNC drug me out of my den, she took me over to some friends of hers she'd grown up with in Nicaragua. There were cousins and friends and inlaws, and she had told me there would be good food and music and booze. But when we got there, the inlaws had cooked and thrown the party.

Now, the inlaws were Caucasian. The husband himself was pretty cool. He had met his wife in a bar in the Bronx somewhere, and fallen in love. Tiny very Indian looking chick.... complete opposite to him who was tall and well, very Bronx. But they fell in love and he'd learned a passable amount of Spanish in two years and they married and now had a baby girl.

His parents though, had decided to have Christmas dinner for the Nicaraguans, but instead of maybe having everyone chip in a dish and sort of reflect the blend of the family, they instead cooked a very Bronx Caucasian spread; a huge ham, mashed potatoes, creamed corn, creamed broccoli and veggies. But the dip for the veggies was seafood, and they also had a huge bowl of shrimp, and I couldn't touch that. And I don't eat ham. And CNC doesn't eat meat, so we picked. The Nicaraguan side of the family ate gingerly, complaining about the lack of music and booze in Spanish, but wouldn't leave because it was rude. And the Filipino sister-in-law was there with her most adorable baby who was suffering from allergies, and it was entertaining to watch the Nicaraguan relatives who spoke little English, speak to the ones who did who could translate to the Filipino whose English was also passable, in order to give her tips about what to do...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Added to this, as I was observing all this multi-culti, I got a message through Crackbook from the Sun's Albanian side of the family. Out of the blue. I'm guessing the Sun came up in casual Christmas dinner conversation, and Cuzzo must have volunteered that I'd tried to contact him on Crackbook. And in typical SD-side-of-the-family-taciturn-ness, all the message said was "How's [the Sun] doing?" No "Merry Christmas" or "Hey, how are you?"

So I wrote back "wow, Merry Christmas!" and proceeded to tell him how well the Sun was and what he was up to. A few short minutes later the message comes back "My mom wants to know if you have a recent picture." So that meant he was with his mom, who by-the-way was Irish. I told Cuzzo add me as a friend on Crackbook, there were many pictures... and also on Flickr.

A few beats go by and the message comes back "My aunts think he's cute." Which meant not only was he with his his mom, but his aunts as well. I wrote back that of course he was cute... he looked like his dad. And that was the last I heard from him.

Which could lead me to another rant about how that side of the family-- the aunts in particular, never really followed up with the Sun, even when I let them know they were more than welcome to be part of his life, no matter what was going on with SD. So to hell with them, too.

An amusing thing about Cuzzo is that he's one of those people who roleplays historical periods, but his historical period of choice is Genghis Kan's. Go figure.

People amuse the hell out of me, yet piss me off all at the same time....

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Around The World In A Day

Well, not quite. More like Cross-Country In 24 Hours.

Which I did on Tuesday. The Sun and I flew out to LAX Tuesday morning, arriving at about 4p LA time. Our flight was delayed on the runway about an hour. It wasn't so bad... it was long but it wasn't uncomfortable since we flew VirginAtlantic. Shoutout for my peeps there... as airlines go it's comfortable; leather seats, individual touchscreens and stuff to do like games and TV. But they charge you ridiculous sums for food, and movies are $7 a pop. Individually. Luckily I have a splitter for my iPod so the Sun and I can share music, and we plugged that puppy into the jack and watched "KungFu Panda".

Another shoutout for EarPlanes. I have the WORST time landing... it feels like hot ice picks stabbing my brain and ears and usually nothing helps... not swallowing water/chewing gum/that hold-your-nose thing everyone swears by. It can be so bad I pray for oblivion. And then I can't hear for hours afterwards. But the EarPlanes kept the pain at bay and while I still couldn't hear for hours afterwards, at least I wasn't in blinding pain.

SD met us at the baggage carousel in a Santa Hat holding a sign for the Sun. I laughed. The Sun was mortified. And was even more mortified when his dad picked him up off the ground to hug him. But, like everything else he took it all in stride, knowing the reasons behind it all.

It was a pleasant few hours. SD lives about an hour from LAX, and while there was "traffic", like he said at least in LA, it moves. In New York you come to a complete standstill. SD's apartment is all standard-issue white and beige, and he tends to dark leather furniture. But it was nice. And neat. MUCH neater than mine. I was very happy to see he's made a life for himself out in LA, and he's the happiest I've ever seen him. He even got elected Vice President of his union.... and while we were driving he was saying something about how he had to fight something and the steps he'd take, and I laughed and said "And then you'll be senator!"

He had a little tree that lit up to music... he always did like kitchsy stuff like that... and underneath it he had put a present for me... a neck pillow. Which came in mighty handy later on.
We didn't have time to have a sit-down dinner, so we stopped by a local burrito place. The Sun was so happy... and I was happy for him. At one point he grabbed my pinky and his dad's pinky and just grinned. It's been a long war, and all the Sun has ever known was war between his parents. And as a parent... if you're a parent at war--whether full blown or guerrilla-style--with your Co-Parent, if you are reading this I'm telling you that at some point you have to make peace. It sounds corny, but the kid really needs you to.

And no, despite being teased by the Professor about mating for life... maybe so... but if that's the case I'll be single for life cuz I could never ever go back. Or forward, smart-ass. I just couldn't do it. But I like that there's a truce.

They dropped me off, the Sun and I, at John Wayne Airport in the OC at about 7:15, and I started my journey home. This one sucked. Not so much cuz I missed the Sun but because as an airline, especially compared to Virgin, United SUCKED. Seats much narrower and cramped; not nearly as clean; and you STILL have to pay for food. I had to change planes in San Francisco, and while I was able to confirm my seat online for the short flight, for some reason I couldn't do it online for the long flight. So there were like 12 passengers standing around waiting for the attendants to give us seat assignments... consequently it ended up that four of us--myself included--were the last motherfuckers to board the plane. I was tired, I was hot, I was cranky. My left ear was still blocked. Thank God for SD's neck pillow... and that God blessed me with a window seat. I made myself as small as possible and passed out.

Then there were the emotional issues. For the first time in awhile I really missed TomCat. My rational mind knows why... and my rational mind understands completely all that happened. I am no longer bewildered and if nothing else, I may lie to other people or keep shit close to the chest though I tend to be pretty honest here, but in the dark when it's just me I'm ruthless in my attempt to dissect shit, and I know what happened, and why, and where I digressed. But it still sucks balls, as my friend the CrazyNicaraguanChick would say. And coming back to New York hurt like hell.

The Professor picked me up at JFK, in the rain and the ice melting, which I appreciated beyond measure and without words because I knew ahead of time I'd be starting to fall apart. We went to breakfast out here on the rock, and then I came home, took a shower and went to bed.

Later on I went with Shoefly, like I do every year, to her BigSister's house. Her bigsister and my littlesister are cosmic twins, so being around Bigsister is easy. And she can cook. We had a great time, though everyone sorely missed the Sun and it kinda put a very small damper on the evening. But Bigbear and Professor also came... all one big happy family. I was highly amused though, when the Chinese daughter-in-law broke out the coquito she'd made. It was pretty good, too.

We got home about about 2A, and life really began to suck. All I'm going to say about Christmas Day is that this year was high up on my list of Top10 Suckiest Days Ever. And I keep saying I don't keep Christmas cuz I don't. But it sucked not keeping it. One low point was going with UpstairsNeighbor to visit her 90 YO mom in the nursing home, along with Thumbelina. UN was struggling as it was, which I knew, because this is her second Christmas without her beloved Mr. Kip.

We get to the nursing home which no doubt about it, is probably one of the most depressing places on the planet on Christmas Day, even though a good portion of the residents have no idea that it's Christmas. Or care, even, since it's actually a Jewish nursing home.

Mom was glad to see everyone, and enjoyed her presents, but somewhere in the time that UN went to sign her out so that we could take her out, Mom realized she didn't quite know where she was, or that it was Christmas, and it wasn't her regular day to go out, and she got majorly pissy.

So her and UN, riding in another car than me and Thumbelina, got into an argument and Mom wanted to go back to the Home. Now, me on the outside understood the dynamics of what was happening, but it just added fuel to the fire of UN's bad mood and so she directed Thumbelina to bring me back home. I haven't seen her since.

And while I was sitting there in the dark that evening I was so tempted to write her a note to tell her... you can cry for what was. And I know you miss him terribly but you had a great time. ME? I'm crying for what will never, ever be. Be grateful for what you lost.

But, of course I didn't. Not yet, anyway.

If it hadn't been for CrazyNicaraguanChick who insisted I come out with her (we ended up just the two of us, sitting in an empty fucking bar drinking a Corona and eating Jalapeno Poppers. Oh the joy!), I would have done some of my best wallowing. Which leads me to a small rant. People piss me the fuck off. I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with, but Lord knows I try. And above all, I try to be honest. I don't believe for a second that notifying the world of my faults excuses them. I know that a lot of the same things I don't like about people are traits that I own myself... which is probably why other people's faults annoy the fuck out of me, precisely because they remind me of my own.

But I try to look out for those folks in mental distress because I know what that feels like. Fabulous had said to me that you can't give 100% because you'll never get it back, therefore you only give a smaller percentage because your small percentage equals more than what they're used to.

And it made sense for a minute, and I thought about it for a long time but I realized that doesn't work for me. Because I'm a mother.

The first thing that changed about me when the Sun came along was that I couldn't hear him cry and not want to do something about it. Like feed him, or change him, or comfort him. Or maybe all he needed was for me to talk to him. But he needed something, and not having words yet, he cried. It taught me to listen outside of myself, to hear what he needed. And to fulfill it, even if it was at cost to myself. I remember when he was about a year old I'd contracted Hepatitis A from eating lunch in the Morgan Stanley Cafeteria, and I was so unbelievably sick I called my mother to come sit with me. I couldn't even lift my head. SD was being a major prick (which in hindsight I know was that he just couldn't handle it, didn't know what to do and was terrified, so he ran) and it was just me and the kid, and the few hours my mom was there.

And I was still nursing... and for the most part the Sun was way more into nursing than into food, and as sick as I was, if he needed milk, I nursed him. I couldn't NOT nurse him.... it's what he needed.

And that changed me profoundly.... so that if I detect need the only way for me not to fulfill it is just not to let the person "in". I can't just give them "a little bit". Its all-or-nothing. But I try to listen out, and if I have it to give, I give. I hate the phone, but I'll call someone if I know they need it. Better yet I'll text... cuz at least they know I'm thinking of them.

But these last few days? The only fuckers to reach out to me aside from family are Shoefly and CrazyNicaraguanChick. Oh, and Nene. And that goes for texting, too. The only time my phone rings, about every two hours, it's the bill collectors. And I'm pissed like a motherfucker. I realized on Christmas Day that I hadn't heard from my close friend BeautifulHair in ages. Obviously I must have pissed her off, but hellifIknow what it is, and I did try to ask her. Once fairly recently I called her by accident, but when I realized it was her I didn't hang up. She didn't pick up, or return the call. And on Christmas I didn't even get a text from her. So fuck it. She didn't reach out... nor will I. I'm done being nice to people.

But I'm also a forgiving bitch so I'll get over it.

I dread New Years like you wouldn't believe. It's so bad I made an offer I knew could be refused to someone I knew would refuse me, and they did, in their usual-cowardly-"Lets just not acknowledge it at all and maybe it'll go away" way, but it's all good. Cut that motherfucker off, too. I think I'm going to stay in my apartment till it's over, New Years. Hibernate. I don't want to be the fifth wheel, the cute single chick: "Oh, she's so talented/funny/cute", I don't want to be drunk. I don't want to be with someone who's into me but I'm not into them, and I damn sure don't want to be around anybody I'm into that isn't into me. So fuck it...

Last year I sat on my RedCouch with Peanutbutter and enjoyed it, actually. This year, I'm gonna sit there by myself, and wait for him to come home. Because at least I have me. I can count on me. And come 2009 it's gonna be a whole new bitch. Back to Black.

Leastways, that's how I feel today...

And since I can't ever be All-Black (don't think I'd make a really good Goth), and always have to find something good... I got a cool present from UN and Thumbelina. A $100 gift card to the supermarket. And some really nice-smelling soap from Shoefly. Like, so-nice-you-don't-want-to-use-it, nice. And yesterday I hung out with the Fam and Bigbear bought me a tall IVAR piece from Ikea so I can try to organize my art supplies (currently my living room is a shambles but it'll be allright) and my sis took me to karate last night--and waited--so I could work out and spar. And that was cool. LittleSensei actually taught me stuff and didn't try to whale on me.

I'm a survivor. A pissed-off one, but a survivor nonetheless....

Monday, December 22, 2008

So... Random-Ish

...type stuff, free flowing...

I guess I'll just jump in midstream. I've been having issues with the season. And I don't keep Christmas per say, and I don't mind that I don't keep Christmas but it's weird when you don't officially keep Christmas.

Cuz the party season amps up, people drink more, there's that whole buying frenzy thing, and then the day itself where the world stays still. And if you don't really have anything to hold on to, it can be kind of lonely.

So my biggest problem is giving up my kid for Christmas this year. And SD and I are getting along famously well, and I actually remember why I liked him to begin with but I hate having to share my kid with him. I guess it's better than sharing my entire life with him, because that just wouldn't work. And I don't mind that the Sun is going there or that he'll be celebrating his first real Christmas ever... but I do mind that the Sun won't be here. Especially on New Years. The Sun isn't back until 1/2.

So then the other part of that was that I have to take the Sun out to Cali. And that brought up a whole host of emotional bullshit in me, most of it centering on what went down the last time I flew out there. So then I had to admit to myself that while for the most part I'm good, and I can be around Tomcat without having to hold on to myself too tightly, and can even exchange a few pleasantries there's still shit I'm not over.

And then I had the occasion to be in the same room with him for a holiday party and I was good with it all until the very end. It didn't help that I got the big blow off from Fabulous that night, either. And then I drank too much. Not as much as I drank last night, however... and I didn't do anything or say anything that night (or last night) that I wouldn't have done or said normally... and I guess I'm thankful God was looking out for me, the way he does fools and babies, cuz maybe I might have gotten into something that really wasn't going to be good for me.

I live my life with a policy of "No Regrets" cuz I think "regret" is a useless emotion... but there are certainly times when had I thought something through I may have done things differently, so I guess I'm glad I didn't have that opportunity. But the next day I cried all fucking day. Not for loss, per se... and not for the person either, but just cuz. And I realized I was still sad about the whole thing, and that I REALLY wasn't looking forward to the flight to LA.

But... I got over it pretty much. Life goes on. And for the most part, I really am OK. For the most part I'm coming back to where I was before SD, before the Sun... but a little older and a little wiser and a hell of a lot broker.

I was hellafraid, though, of booking my flight back. I put it off till the last minute. I was afraid of the prices (not that I'm paying... Poppy is), afraid of not getting a flight, afraid of maybe having to go out to Vegas to get a cheap flight back, afraid of having to stay in Vegas...as much as I LOVE Auntie I just didn't want to be there for Christmas. And I felt guilty about that cuz it would actually be fun... but I'm not there yet. And it sucked having to ask Poppy to shell out money on the credit card. But I found a reasonably cheap flight (considering the season and the lastminuteness) out of an airport pretty close to SD's apartment, and it gave me enough time to come see his apartment, maybe grab a shower and something to eat before I fly back.

Now the thing about visiting the apartment. Who knew that I would ever even contemplate that??? Certainly not I. I was prepared to war with SD for the rest of my days... and honestly, had I not gone out with the Tomcat in the summer and had that whole adventure, I really think our peace would still be minimal. So there is definitely good that came out of that trip. Tomcat has an ease with children and crazy people and his presence smoothed over a lot of shit. What happened afterwards God knows I could have done without but hell. Life sucks.

But back to the visit.

I guess SD knew I was procrastinating about booking my trip back, and so last Tuesday or so he texted me that if I needed to stay overnight in LA, I could stay with him and the Sun. And somehow, I KNEW that offer was coming. I diplomatically replied that I would consider the offer if I needed to, but that was all I said. It actually had the effect of putting the fire under my ass to find a flight, cuz I really didn't want to stay with him.

But, the next day he called and rather hesitantly launched into a conversation that he didn't want me to think that he was trying to get back with me... it's just he wanted to make the offer in the spirit of peace, in the spirit of letting the Sun know that both his parents can get along. And then he said that he knew there had been a lot of crap. He knew he'd said and done a lot of things, and that he couldn't take it back. That he just wanted to move on.

And while I still have my suspicions, I decided to take him at his word, and I told him as much. And I told him that quite honestly, I just want to come home. I really need to be home and that I was going to try very hard to get home that same day.

But then what he said next floored me. He said "I know I left you at the hospital that time... and that would never happen again".

For him... that was tantamount to him begging my forgiveness.

Because that night... the night he left me at the hospital was the night I declared war on him.

It was spring. A few days before was the Pratt show, and me hanging out with Fabulous at the Museum. And me deciding that the only way to be free from SD was to fight it out, and I knew it would suck but I knew it was the only way. And I knew that SD was gearing up to fight me on the length of a Memorial Day visit, and I knew that I was going to have to take him on.

A few days before, or maybe even earlier in the day, the Sun and I walked through the park and he had been consumed by mosquitoes. The Sun is EXTREMELY allergic to mosquito bites... they swell, they weep, they get really gross looking. When SD came to pick him up, the bites were pretty bad but they hadn't reached the zenith of nastiness, but I guess they did while the Sun was with SD. And he began to freak out. He called me and said he was going to take the Sun to the ER. I told him they were only mosquito bites; I told him what to do. He wouldn't listen. I said fine... if you're going to take him to the ER, come get me and we'll go together to one in the Bronx. I went downstairs to wait, expecting him to come within 2o minutes. It's an emergency right?

Wrong. SD kept me waiting over an hour, and when I went upstairs to call and find out why, he hadn't even left the house yet. And was extremely nasty. So another hour went by and he finally got to me, saying we were going to go the ER in the city where the Sun's pediatrician was. I told him that was dumb. It was 10 o' clock on a holiday weekend, the bites weren't THAT serious, but if they were, why would we go all the way downtown???? And that's when I knew that the only reason he wanted to take the Sun in was because at that time, he was looking for evidence that I was a bad mom. And it didn't help that on the way through the park, in the dark, he was menacing and threatening to slap me, and said he wanted to throw me out of the car. At one point he said he didn't want to look at me, get in the back seat. And I was so afraid he'd actually leave me there in the park that I left his front door WIDE OPEN while I crawled into the back, so that he couldn't pull off and leave.

And mind you the whole time the Sun is wide awake, stressed, and sitting in the car seat.

We got to the ER and because he'd told the triage nurse "pus" and "sores" on the face, they had us come in right away. Of course, there WAS no pus and they weren't sores, merely bites.

Now the thing I hate about doctors, interns in particular is that sometimes they are so busy looking for the great "catch" or "save" that they overlook the obvious. It pisses me the fuck off. I kept trying to tell them I was in the park with him when he got bit... his regular doc KNEW he was allergic to bites, but they kept whispering shit about "bed bugs" and "infestations" and SD was feeding into it all. I was FURIOUS. But to make a scene wasn't going to help me...cuz they were all white, and SD was "white", and the kid has these weeping bumps all over him and they weren't listening to shit I had to say.

But at the end of it, the Sun wasn't running a temperature and there was no pus only plasma, and even though they scratched their heads and claimed bewilderment, they let us go.

It was about midnight by now. And SD was mightily annoyed that he hadn't gotten any satisfaction from the visit... not even a prescription. So he grabbed the Sun's hand and told me to get home the best I could... he wasn't going to take me. I could have gotten as far as the end of the subway ride, cuz I had a metrocard on me, but the buses to the Rock stop running at a certain point and so the only option was a cab. And I had no money on me, and no wallet cuz I'd run out of the house for the "emergency". I asked SD for cabfare, and he refused. He took my kid and walked away, telling me he'd bring the Sun home when he felt like it.

I called my parents and told them what had happened, and that I had to stay with them overnight till the buses started again. And as I lay down there and tried to sleep I vowed that I would take that fucker on no matter what... and I would beat him down.

And there was more after that... that weekend was the longest of my life, culminating in me having to go up to Yonkers with the police to get my kid, and then me hiding in my apartment the next day and then the Tuesday after Memorial Day going to Family Court and filing for an Order of Protection. And the rest is history.

That weekend came up during the testimony, but other than that I haven't harped on it as the beginning of the battle. Certainly not to him. Matter of fact, we haven't really discussed the War at all, and I don't feel the need to. We both know what happened. So for him to bring it up the other day was pretty big. I still have my suspicions... and not for nothing but SD was always pretty good at apologizing. It's one of the reasons I got sucked in for so long. His apologies were always heartfelt, always sincere, sometimes tearful... but on the other hand, considering the length of the war, and the fact that he didn't outright say "I'm sorry" sort of makes me take it another way.

So even though I made sure to find my ass a plane ride home, I was happy that the window of time allowed for me to go home with them to visit where he leaves. But briefly. And then I come home...

So I'm feeling slightly better about the trip at least. I'm still not looking to certain things, but on the other hand there's a lot I can do to occupy my time... like clean up, organize, corral Fabulous into doing some work (cuz despite the fact I don't think anything other than work will happen, I still think he's Fabulous), and get ready for a new year.

I guess I'm getting past the boiling internal anger. I'm not boiling mad at SD anymore. I can think about the Hospital Incident and still be mad at the moment, but it doesn't carry over. I can be boiling mad at the fact that I'm still single, but I'm figuring out how to deal with that. I think the thing is, the biggest part of it is that I'm not afraid or ashamed to be angry. I'm pissed about stuff but I have a right to be, and one day... like with SD, a resolution will come of all this. Maybe not something I anticipated or planned for... but there will be one. I just have to be patient and take the ride...

Which reminds me I should write about the train ride I took the other day in which I told off a bunch of rambunctious teenagers, but I'm gonna save that for another post.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Been Hiding

Fom myself, from others, from comments.

My head is about to explode. There is so much mulling around... so much need and pain. I don't like to admit to either because I don't like being the needy one. I don't like to admit to the weakness.

And sometimes I DON'T want comments; merely to bitch and moan which is how I started this blog anyhow.

I'd write now but I've been up trying to finish the LogoFromHell so I can get that bitch out of my sight, and now I need some sleep. If I started writing now I'd never get to bed.

But I'll be back.

In case you cared...

Monday, December 8, 2008

So One Thing Led To Another

and I went with the Fabulous to an exhibit downtown Thursday evening. The Sun was still away at camp, and I was determined to have a night out while he was gone. It turned out that some of the artists showing work the night before at Hostos were also showing work at this place, and many of the same viewers were there as well. Just on a whim I'd brought my camera, and shooting at 1600 the light was pretty good and the beer was flowing and the company was great and I got some good pictures.

And then I met Adhali and she asked me to come to another exhibit her friend Frankie was curating and opening on Saturday because their photographer backed out, and I said sure. There was no money in it but you never know.

...something Fabulous always happens when I'm around the Fabulous...

The Sun came back from camp on Friday an inch taller, dirty faced and slightly smelly. I brought him home right away and he vegged on the couch till bedtime. He spoke to his dad, and I guess he wasn't raving with excitement so SD wanted to talk to me: "Is he OK?" "He's fine" I said. "Just exhausted".

Ugh. What does he think? I'm beginning to feel him creep into my psyche again and I realized again that truce notwithstanding I can never ever get too close. Like a Vampire, once you let him in you can't get him out.

We didn't go to karate on Saturday; there was another promotion at the other dojo and class at our dojo was canceled. So we vegged all day. I couldn't get a firm commitment from any of my friends to come into the city with me to take these pictures, so I hit up the Fabulous. He had a birthday party later but he said he'd come with me for a bit.

I met him at his job as he was getting off, and him, me and another co-worker of his rode crosstown in a cab to the gallery/bar.

I think I got some decent pictures... I hate using a flash because it's so disruptive, so I went through first taking as many stealth pictures but it was hard... it was darker there than it was at the other gallery on Thursday, so I had to resort to the flash. And even though it was really dark I don't point my flash directly at my subject but rather point it upwards, which is also problematic because in a really dark place with a not-so-strong-flash, the top half of the photo tends to be brighter than the darker half. But it's not as disruptive and I still got some decent pictures. I hope.

Turns out one of the artists exhibiting there was mainly a tattoo artist named Byron Velasquez... and I love tats and so I'll give him a plug. His work is crazy... right up my alley. A little digging revealed he's gotten some press so that means he's probably out of my price range but one day... one day I'll have it like that and he can do my tat.

I was feeling pretty good; the Sun was at the Moon's house and I hadn't expected to stay out too long. But at about 10:30 I get a text from SD asking me "Please go get the Sun". I texted back "I'm working. You talked to him? I'm taking pix for someone..."

I started feeling really stressed... but then I remembered "Oh yeah. Court is done. I have custody. You're a thousand miles away and it's none of your business other than the fact you want to control me. Fuck you." So I ended it by saying most nights the Sun goes to bed early but tonite I'm working, and anyway I check in with Shoefly.

Excet TF called Shoefly. She shut him down, too.

I have to remember to keep my distance. There's a truce but we'll never be friends.

Being Fabulous is a little confusing, a little conflicting. One the one hand it drives me crazy but on the other hand it's just as well it's where it's at.

I dunno. There's still Fostercare...

Thursday, December 4, 2008

So......

...it's been a minute since I wrote last. Too much time on Facebook. And therein lies the problem... cuz now there's so many folk I know on Facebook I'm reluctant to tell my tales since if they wander over here--and some do--they can probably figure out who I'm talking about.

Not that I tell unpleasant tales.

And not that there's that much to tell.

I'm sort of rattling around in my head. Feeling out what my next step will be.

I got into a discussion with Fatlady the other night about meds. I go back and forth about the whole thing, and I don't knock anyone who decides to go that route... I really don't. But I guess I have a fundamental distrust of them, since I don't see the difference between them and say, ganja. Having grown up in a country where a spliff was a common medicine--even though technically it was illegal--I guess what I don't trust is the line that meds help take the edge off so you can deal with your problems. Well, so does herb. So does tequila. For instance, tequila makes me downright euphoric and able to cope. But I wouldn't go and self-medicate with it on a regular basis because I know that 1.) there are side effects and 2.) ultimately nothing really changes except that you feel momentarily better. Same with meds.

I guess I've been wondering about it because most of the people I know who consider meds or who end up using meds have something in common and that is that they tend to be artistic. And most of the artistic people I know are downright crazy. They either write well, or paint, or sing, or have a musical talent. The especially crazy ones do more than one thing. We already know sensitive artistic souls carry with them issues that drive them mad. But at the same time it's what drives you to create. Who are you without that sensitivity? Artistic people who go on meds report feeling better, but many of them say they can't play their instrument, or sing, or write. And then they end up going off the meds. And feel worse because they know the difference between "feeling better" and not "feeling better." And feeling better is in quotes since I question what "better" actually means.

And so I wonder.

I went to an exhibit of Graffiti art at Hostos Community College in the Bronx last night. A room full of nuts. Seriously. One guy was walking around with a kerchief over his mouth and nose that was printed with the words "Art is my weapon". One guy had lost an arm, probably doing something he shouldn't be doing, and was definitely strange. To say nothing of the old dudes (really my age or a little older) who were walking with so many issues that it made them appear older than they were. Yet the work on the walls was out of this world. If you're in the neighborhood it's a show well worth seeing.

Having gone through my bout of extraordinary psychic pain very recently, I wonder. My problems haven't gone away; without meds I feel better and am coping, even though technically my problems have escalated. But I guess going through all that pain and coming out the other side, ultimately I'm stronger. I could have done without the pain, no doubt. It sucked. And it sucked my time up. But I came to a few conclusions about myself in the process and had I taken meds I wonder if I would have come to the same place?

Out of fire comes new life, new growth...

So here I sit, wondering where my life will go. My conversations with the Fabulous are still going on... but he like me has that "thing" and he procrastinates and I'm not sure I'm all that patient anymore, although I may have fired him up. But I'm running out of time. There's things I want, having gone through all that pain I know for certain what I'm looking for and what I want, but I know my time is short. Two years, tops.

And so I came up with Plan B. Fostercare. And I find it a little amusing how quickly people tell me to "be careful" or that it might be more than what I can handle.

But there are sooooo many children in need of love and support, many of them of little brown babies, who are in need of a home.

And I realized, through all that pain and hell, that I need to love. On my own terms in my own strange little way. And children don't challenge you on HOW you love, so long as you love them. Receiving love is good, and I need that too, but I have the need to give it. So I wonder...

The cons are though, that it would pretty much wreck whatever chances I have of actually going someplace to meet anyone interesting. So maybe I'll wait two more years before I get into it. I haven't made up my mind.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

My Sun's photo, along with his classmates, appeared in the NY Daily News. His music school's violin ensemble was asked to play at the Children's Inaugural Ball in Washington, D.C. He had sort of casually mentioned the possibility the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, as I took him and the Moon to school. Monday I was going through his school's Purple Folder (how parents and the school communicate) and saw I needed to sign a consent form for photos to be taken. Tuesday the News came and photographed the kids. Wednesday it was out in the paper. We had gotten to school at 6:45A because the Sun and Moon were going on their 4/5 grade camping trip, and on the way I picked up the paper. By the time the kids were off on their trip and I'd gone upstairs to help out on a new-parent-tour of the school, the office phone was ringing off the hook. NBC News wanted to come in and interview the kids.

It was probably just as well the entire (well, most of them, anyhow) 4/5 class was out. Gives the hoopla a chance to die down...

But it's cool. He's going to play for the Obamas!!!!