Thursday, December 31, 2009

Sometimes I feel like I'm in some sort of alternate reality.

Like I slipped on a sidewalk, hit the pavement, and when I stood... I was somewhere else. Maybe I'm off in a coma, and my brain is wandering around this alternate world where things don't quite make sense.

For example, for those of you who have been keeping up with my family madness posts, you might have noticed that a week ago this evening, I was sitting in the emergency room of a nearby hospital attempting to check my father into the psych ward. At this very hour, I was likely running back and forth in the hallways, attempting to keep my mother from breaking down, my father from escaping, and finding out the ways to get him restrained. The night before that, I was sleeping in a guest room across from my mother because we could not go home. And all those details I've blogged about.

Today, however, today we (my father) decided we were going to celebrate the Christmas we "missed". So I came home, slept in my own bed, and woke up to open presents.

And then my parents took me shopping.

And bought me a new car.

In case you missed that, here we go again:

And bought me a new car.

I didn't even copy and paste that sentence. I typed it again so you could feel the gravity of the statement. By gravity, I mean the ""-ness of that statement.

I now have a 2010 VW Jetta TDI sedan.


I have no clue. I have no freaking clue. I've always had to work for everything, pay for everything. And suddenly: "Hay, here's a car!"

My brain hurts as life attempts to pack enough plotline for a few seasons worth of sitcom into a month and some change.

I... can't really even recount the events of the last month, trying to remember this last year seems even more of a feat.

But since I've yet to attempt this type of post before, let's go over some highlights:

In 2009 I...

~went to my first swing club and banged without mercy, squirted on an audience, showed a large group of onlookers how to really give head

~Snagged SFPlayboy, ended up spending some time in San Fran as well

~Did my first DP

~Picked up that delicious 6'9" cello player/stuntman

~Met GV8, learned more about myself and my life than I thought possible

~Flew across the country to follow a band for the weekend

~Moved out of the apartment I shared with Darkeyes

~Restarted my schooling, pushing towards entry into the Master's Program

~Let my hair grow long, near waist-length

~Broke up, reunited, broke up, reunited, broke up with GV8

~Chased a man for the first time in my life. Failed spectacularly.

~Finally found out the difference between "sex" and "making love"

~Made out with a hobo

~Got my right side tattooed in one eight-hour sitting, with three hours of touch-ups later

~Attempted to commit my father to a mental institution

~Had four friends kill themselves

~Almost had a nervous breakdown, which was stopped by GV8 a week after our final break up

~Applied to my first ever apartment not to be shared with another

~Lost 20 pounds

~Launched my car backwards down a hill

~Had my driver's side t-boned while driving through an intersection

~Spent 10 months couchsurfing

~Started this blog

~Helped a friend execute an emergency move at 2AM on a Wednesday morning that involved us balancing her bed on top of a minivan and walking it the x-amount of miles to her new place because we had no rope

If I wasn't feeling so tired and lazy, I would look up all those things that I forgot.

But it has been a long freaking week.

Monday: stayed in, cried, anxiety issues, cried more
Tuesday: apartment hunted, spoke with the boss-man, rescinded my two-weeks notice
Wednesday: found an apartment, applied (hoping I get it)
Thursday: came home to talk with the parents about my current life plan and their degree of involvement in it and then they bought me a car
Friday: cleaning, cleaning, cleaning
Saturday: packing, packing, packing
Sunday: sleeping, sleeping, sleeping

I don't want to go back to work on Monday. Save me.

So nervous about if I will get that apartment. So. Nervous. I hate when I want something really bad and I have to wait to see if I get it. Makes me jumpy.

Gyah. Going to bed.

Have a happy new year. I'm going to go sleep my way into unconsciousness.


  1. You'll get the apartment.... I'm psychic (or was that psychotic?) like that....

  2. I hope you delete this comment as I'll regret writing it later. No, I'm not drunk. Intoxicated on your blog. The stuff with your dad, new life/apartment is sickeningly similar to my ordeal. Only is seems like he has an excuse: insanity. My father is pure evil. I don't have your guts. I can't write about how he's damaged me. Because I'd have to face the harsh reality that I'll never get over it. And I get angry and turn into this monster that looks like him.

    Your posts on love, sex, relationships are awesome. Reading them is like living by proxy. Don't stop.

  3. That's a hell of a year!

    I hope you get the apartment. More importantly, having just woken up from my own coma, I hope you have a restless sleep. A Happier New Year to you.

  4. The Savage,

    Look at you and your psychic abilities. I did, indeed, get the apartment.


    Aw, I'm sorry. I don't delete comments unless they're spam.

    My own father's irrationality and disrespect for others causes me such distaste that I would never mirror his behavior. It does hurt, at first, to acknowledge and write out the damage, the fears... especially in a public forum. It's embarassing. It causes such shame.

    You eventually move past the shame.

    And then you identify ways to heal.

    But you have to take that first step.


    A restless sleep? I'd rather have a restful sleep. I had a restless sleep last night. Horrid.

    Happy New Year to you, too, sir.