Star Date 20 March 2001, 8 something PM.
Bottled up since middle August last year - and oddly enough, "bottled up" doesn't seem to be a term associated with me very often, if at all. If I sit back and think long enough, this has been the longest, yet the fastest, 7 months of my life.
September 2010
Thought maybe I would poke my eyes out at work. There literally wasn't anything to do - except feel sorry for myself. Why was one of the dearest friend I ever knew laying in a hospital bed, with a trache, on a feeding tube, and barely able to keep his eyes open? While I sat and thought about how I could single-handedly make Danny's situation migrate away from him and toward any given child molester or abusive type, I thought that I had nothing to do. September 2010 would go down in Kymmie Show history as the biggest load of sh*t imaginable.
October 2010
Boyfriend's 40th birthday in late month. Boyfriend's former best friend's 40th birthday on the exact same day, late in the month. I had that to occupy me as I planned the whole thing. Danny is miraculously out of, then surprisingly back IN the hospital. At least I had Sandy and Dean's party to plan - and it had to be kick ass. Feeling the shiftlessness that was my current state of employment. What if I just up and quit? I don't hate anyone I work with. I hate the situation. Actually, I blame a lot of what HASN'T gone down work wise on Client Engagement. Commence resentment and judgment at people I now believe cannot do their jobs ... and possibly have only ten brain cells to share amongst the entire department.
November 2010
Thanksgiving this month ... and Danny out of the hospital again. Anxiety about spending holiday with family. Anxiety about not spending time with the rest of the out of town family. Anxiety over all holidays in general. Commence general malaise and disgust over holiday that signifies that MAYBE we should give a sh*t about our families once or twice a year. Commence watching waistline. I just got a new agent and I can't start acquiring my own zip code ... on my ass. the last thing I want is to know that the camera adds ten pounds... but in my case, adds another WHOLE PERSON. F***.
... and the new winner of this year's "Month That is the Biggest Load of Sh*t" award goes to ....
December 2010
My 40th birthday. When someone asks, I just say "I am old enough to go to a rated R movie by myself". Then I threaten their life/to bury their ass in a corner/their manhood or womanhood with a sharp object for asking a lady her age. Bonus ass kicking if they ask about my weight. So the "lady thing" just went out the window.
Oh. I forgot.
Danny leaves this earth - the night of my 40th birthday. I search and search - I don't have ONE picture of he and I together anywhere. All I have left of him is the last IM he sent me on MSN messenger, the connection I have with him on Facebook, and the gaping hole in my chest. I would like to forget my birthday from this point forward, thank you.
January 2011
Awesome! Things are looking up! I am starting to NOT give a sh*t about work and have to attend the formal goodbye to Danny toward the middle of the month. F***ing GREAT. Beginning January though - at least I get one thing to remember Danny by : his book. He had a book published well before October and his sister Monica hand delivered the copy to me when we went out for cocktails. She needed the drink, believe me. I think I cried more than she did that night though. I have known her brother since we were 14. Part of my childhood went with him when he left.
His book is Science Fiction Fabulous. I followed along with Kipijann, a weaver (essentially, a magic worker with a sixth sense) with phenomenal abilities and his protegee, Quiess. Quiess is a (I would imagine) 12 year old girl with the budding weaver powers with "mortal" parents. Mortal in the sense that you and I are mortals. We can't wiggle our nose in the hopes our house was magically clean right before our parents arrive for dinner. He made up his own World Map, language (based in French - replaced by English where a word did not exist for either language), and culture in this high fiction novel. F***ing amazing. I suggest you read it - Fever and Bones by Daniel Monk.
February 2011
Simply f*** all this whole month. I officially started looking for other work. Went through interview hell until I settled on one company. Had a lot of time to think (I do that when I stop caring about something) and re-examine. I did a few commercials. Walked a runway for a small, local trunk show. Auditioned for a play and got it. Decided that entertainment should be my second vocation. I am old enough to get into a rated R movie by myself, for f*** sake - I have a career. It was my FIRST vocation before, but not anymore. At least I still got it, right? :) But it's decided. I need to be happy again. I need to feel purpose and drive again. Rehearsals are next month ... gotta be off-book ASAP.
March 2011 - up to now.
Rehearsals and finally get around to planning my birthday party. My friend Lissie said she would come to my party in end of February, so I was looking forward to seeing her soon! She is taken by a cerebral aneurysm not three days later. I have to stop having birthdays - there is apparently a body count associated with my social events. Two weeks later, and one week to the day of my party, we say goodbye to her too. Maybe Lissie and Danny will find each other and go pick flowers, go out on a boat, and have dinner. Good grief, I miss them both.
Not to be Debbie Downer or anything? But it's not exactly been the greatest f***ing time for me. I have, by far, NOT expressed even the teensiest bit of what I am really feeling at the moment. Anger, resentment, betrayal, loss (and being lost), and guilt. I am mortal. My friends are mortal. My loved ones are mortal. And I hate it.
These are a few of my favorite things ... and then I don't feel sooooooooooooo faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaab.
*sustain note, key of C*
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