Here we go! It is currently 8:28 p.m., and Greg and I are officially ON HOLIDAY. We just returned from Green Bay, dropping off Maddie at Barry and Laura's. At first she couldn't wait for us to leave, but once we were actually walking out the door, she asked me if she could come home with us. I thought for a moment we might have a bit of a problem, but she didn't cry. Just looked a little disappointed, but then Laura shoved us out (bless her heart) and took over, and I'm sure everything is fine. At the moment, honestly, I'm more worried about how *I'm* going to feel about being away from Maddie for eight days. She's going to be preoccupied with Laura, Isabelle, Dougal (the cat), Mary, and Morgan. She'll have plenty to do, and probably won't miss me much until toward the end of her stay. I on the other hand am already looking over my shoulder, feeling like I'm forgetting something. Got a little choked up when we left, but rocked out to some T-Rex and Paul Westerburg on the way home and am feeling better now.
Bought a digital camera today; planning on taking pictures of me and Greg at Castledaly and emailing them to Laura so Maddie can actually *see* us at "the yellow house beyond the sea." Today Maddie said I couldn't fly on a plane because "it's too high up in the sky," but I assured her we would be safe.
Christ - not even two hours away from her yet, and I'm already "Maddie this Maddie that."
Deep breaths.
I'm not worried about her or anything. I just feel kind of guilty dumping her off with someone else for eight days. This is my first long trip away from her - bear with me, folks.
We are going to have such a good time. Greg is already on the brink of full-on rockin' out. I can see the excitement boiling under the surface, and he still has a few loose ends to tie up this evening and tomorrow morning. By tomorrow afternoon, we're both going to be giddy fools.
8:36. Time to take a shower. We're going out for one last night on the south side before we take off. Probably hit the Palomino (it's the only place still serving food after ten), and the Cactus Club as well. Looking forward to a glass of wine and time to let it really sink in that I AM LEAVING THE COUNTRY TOMORROW. Have already decided to bring a notebook, separate from my usual journal, to bring on the trip. Ireland definitely deserves its own book. Yes.
I can't believe I'm going to Ireland. I just can't believe it. This is fucking outstanding. Phenomenal. Incomprehensible. One of the best things about going with Greg (aside from the obvious) is that we're both pretty independent people, but accomodating. He's used to going by himself, and I've already told him not to feel obligated to entertain me every single day - go for walks alone if he wants to, etc. And he's given me the same space. It's going to be really strange for us to be around each other so much - eight days solid, no work, no Maddie - and I'm really looking forward to seeing how it all unfolds, how we get along in the mornings, how we book our time, how we are in the silences. Greg said today that this will be the true test to show if we really are compatible in the ways we'd like to be, and I completely agree. I also said that, in my opinion, the true test would be when Greg sees me without my teeth for the first time. :D But, you know, that's just me.
He laughed his ass off.
Alright. Shower. Go out. Have fun. Say goodbye to all the SUCKERS who don't get to go! Hehehe.
I may post again tomorrow before I go, but just in case... Keep checking my site while I'm out. I'll probably be able to post to the blog from Ireland, and hopefully will be able to put up some pictures!
Slan!
Anyone who hasn't seen this movie, needs to. If you've ever been jaded, if you've ever written or read a comic book, if you've ever thought your life was completely uninteresting and pathetic, if you've ever been a blue-collar worker, if you've ever had cancer or known someone who has, if you are a nerd, if you just look funny - in other words, if you are currently breathing, go rent this movie.
How fucking great is Harvey Pekar. Jesus.
Check out Harvey's website. The blog hasn't been updated since October, but there's still some stuff worth reading, as well as background information and merchandise (i.e., his comics).
Let the countdown begin! Today begins a week of mayhem before our much-anticipated trip to Ireland. Greg has been subjected to said mayhem for days on end now, but mine is just beginning. Today, I'm going to the County Clare to train for an hour in preparation for my scheduled shift tomorrow. I'll be helping host for the grand St. Patrick's Day celebration, which is going to be absolutely nuts. I've been there before on St. Pat's, and usually there's a line extending out the door and halfway around the block. This year, for the first time in seven years, Greg will be done working at 10 p.m., so he's very excited. I'm just looking forward to seeing him in a kilt. :) After my 11-4 stint at the Clare tomorrow, I will proceed to my usual shift at the Palomino and work until approximately midnight, by which time I'm sure my little feet will be aching for a rub, and by which time I'm sure Greg will just be getting into full swing. We'll see if I can't convince him to come home with me, despite the fact that I'll be getting up at 7 the next morning.
Thursday and Friday I work at the Pal. For those of you who were planning on forgetting, Saturday is my birthday. My plan for that day is basically to do nothing all day, or whatever I feel like doing, though my hope is that I will be able to spend the majority of the day with Greg. He will be performing at the Cactus Club that night, an acoustic performance which I've been told is going to be "really depressing," however, I don't care what kind of music he's playing as long as he's playing music. On my birthday. Yay! He seems really bummed out about it, having a gig on such a revered holiday, but I think it's great. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my evening.
Post-Cactus Club (and the inevitable shots which I'm sure will be coming from my co-workers next door at the Pal), I would like to end our evening at Angelo's, which is a piano bar not too far from my splendid home. Angelo's features a pianist (well, keyboardist) of approximately 70some years of age who has been playing there on a regular basis...ooh, probably longer than I've been alive. She has this really sweet old lady voice, and she does all kinds of old romantic tunes - Sinatra, Dean Martin, etc. So I would like to see my love perform at the Cactus (I'll try to avoid my usual shouts of "TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!"), then gaze lovingly into his eyes over a brandy old-fashioned sweet at Angelo's.
Sunday will be spent lounging around in the morning, followed by picking up Maddie at Ryan's house at noon, then doing whatever laundry needs to be done and preparing a list of things to take to Ireland.
Monday, Greg and I are going to Green Bay (finally!) to introduce Maddie to Barry and Laura, and to introduce myself and her to Greg's mom. It should be a fun day. Everything I've heard so far about his mom has been wonderful. She sounds like a great lady. I look forward to meeting the marvelous woman who brought my love into the world and protected him and nurtured him and helped transform him into the beautiful, intelligent, funny, compassionate, talented, loving individual he is today.
Mish mish, mush mush, I know. :)
Okay, so I guess it's not a full week, and it's not all work, per se. Just a full schedule.
Finished reading _The Da Vinci Code_ last night. Great book. Lots of references to factual information regarding everything from European architecture to The Louvre to the Priory of Sion and Knights Templar. Needless to say, it has spawned curiosity on my part. So I looked up Newton's _Philosophae Naturalis Principia Mathematica_ on Amazon.com, and good news! Hardcover copies are available for a mere $265. Or I can get the full, fancy edition for $647. Grr. In any case, it is nice to see someone writing books about female divinity without being too preachy or else enveloped in a haze of incense encapsulated by a crystal echoing chants of ooga-booga with Tarot cards flying around. Not only this, but I have long hypothesized (or at least, hoped) that Mary Magdalene was Jesus' wife and NOT the whore Christian history has painted her to be. It just makes more sense that she was his wife. Yes, I'm a bit biased. The Church has a bloody and vicious history, and the watered-down stories of peace and love that the kids get in Sunday school today certainly does not come from the Old Testament, and the New Testament was written YEARS after Jesus lived, mostly by people who weren't even born until after the crucifixion. There were a ton of gospels written, and only a select few were chosen for the Book - those that most closely detailed what the Church wanted people to believe. Books are books, people. Even the Bible had editors. In fact, hundreds of them over the centuries. But you know this. Not to mention the fact that, as a woman, I have a very hard time supporting a corporation which has spent the last 2,000 years demonizing my anatomy and anything associated with it, meanwhile using ancient pagan rituals as bait to lure people in. Look! We have frankincense and myrrh! Candles? Check. Hey - we dye eggs in the springtime, too! What a coincidence! Why not come over here and join in the fun (psst - by the way - your genitals are evil, and I know you're human and all, and it's your physiological make-up that causes you to want to have sex - procreation, blah blah blah - but you know what? fucking's evil. so don't do it. in fact, don't even jerk off. You'll go to Hell for even thinking about it, UNLESS you pray to this white guy over here).
AND HE WASN'T EVEN WHITE! Dammit!
Ugh. Don't get me started.
Which leads me to the next topic, that of Mel Gibson's "The Passion." I haven't seen it yet (hopefully I will this weekend while Maddie's with Ryan), but from what I've heard, it's bloody. About time somebody made a realistic re-enactment of the crucifixion. *If* the crucifixion happened (which I believe, historically speaking, it did), then it wasn't no walk in the park. The man was wearing a crown of thorns and carrying a 200-lb piece of wood intended for his grave, for cryin' out loud. If I'm going to watch Jesus' death, I'd better be crying in the aisles, sobbing with empathy for his suffering. Otherwise, the story isn't being told right. That guy went through some horrible, dark shit, and if I - a non-believer in Christ's divinity and Church-appointed role as One and Only True Son of God and Savior of Humanity - if I, who don't even worship the guy, am not reeling from the weight of the film so that I have a hard time even exiting the theatre, then I will be disappointed.
From all the hubbub I've heard, I won't be.
I read this on Tracey's blog, and wanted to post it on my site as well. She found it on some parents' message board online. How true:
Why I love MOM:
Mom and Dad were watching TV when Mom said, "I'm tired, and it's getting late. I think I'll go to bed." She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day's lunches. Rinsed out the popcorn bowls, took meat out of the freezer for supper the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugar container, put spoons and bowls on the table and started the coffee pot for brewing the next morning. She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer, ironed a shirt and secured a loose button. She picked up the game pieces left on the table and put the telephone book back into the drawer. She watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel. She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom. She stopped by the desk and wrote a note to the teacher, counted out some cash for the field trip, and pulled a textbook out from hiding under the chair. she signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick note for the grocery store. She put both near her purse. Mom then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her Night Solution age fighting moisturizer, brushed and flossed her teeth and filed her nails. Dad called out, "I thought you were going to bed." "I'm on my way," she said. She put some water into the dog's
dish and put the cat outside, then made sure the doors were locked. She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps, hung up a shirt, threw some dirty socks into the hamper, and had a brief conversation with the one up still doing homework. In her own room, she set the alarm; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack. She added three things to her 6 most important things to do list. She said her prayers, and visualized the accomplishment of her goals. About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in particular. "I'm going to bed." And he did...without another thought.
Anything extraordinary here? Wonder why women live longer...?'CAUSE WE ARE MADE FOR THE LONG HAUL .....(and we can't die sooner, we still have things to do!!!!)
Mmmm. Just got off a phone marathon extravaganza with Trace. I feel like I haven't talked to her in weeks! We've both been so busy, and her grandmother was visiting for a few days, so there was a lot to catch up on. And now it's already 3:15, so I have 45 minutes until Patsy will be here to watch Maddie so I can go to work. Oh bother.
Some good news: finally got my taxes filed, so I'm hoping that the return will be deposited before we leave for Ireland. I AM SO READY TO GO! The last two weeks have been utterly exhausting. I think both of us are going to be absolutely delirious for the first few days of the trip, but that's okay. Sleep deprivation only adds to the fun. :) It is so nice to have something to look forward to.
Also, I got two new tires on my car yesterday, so there shouldn't be too much worrying in the weeks to come about a blowout en route to Rockford, Green Bay, etc. So that's nice as well.
I'm scheduled to work at the Clare on St. Pat's, which is going to be absolute mayhem, but it'll be fun to work with Greg for a day. Reassuring to be able to look across the sea of drunken faces and see the cutest man in the world behind the bar, or running around like crazy. There are nights at the Palomino when I would kill just to be able to see his face somewhere in the crowd, so I'm sure it will be positively inspirational to take part in the madness for a few hours before heading off to the Palomino for the night shift.
Alright. Food. Change clothes. Go to work.
Rockford tomorrow for Jan's 70th birthday party! That'll be fun. Then breakfast with Katy and James on Sunday before heading back home. Hopefully will see Eddie while I'm in town, but I'm not nearly as stressed about it as I was. Have to let go a little bit on that one. Also need to call Rob Loudin and Keith Beiersdorf, see if they can come into Rockford for the weekend. Would love to see those guys again.
Okay.
Food.
Okay, I have got to get down to Bartlett again soon.
Just look at these pictures! Click on the little arrows on the sides of the top of the page to move from picture to picture.
First of all, I apologize to everyone for the big vent-fest yesterday. Just needed to get that shit off my chest. Usually I reserve that kind of stuff for my personal journal, but a few people seemed concerned about what was going on, so I thought I'd clarify. Again, my apologies for being the Big Heavy.
Slowly getting things in gear for Ireland. Having some tires replaced on my car after one developed a slow leak and another went completely flat on Sunday night. $120 down the drain. Oh well. Hoping to get my taxes done once and for all this afternoon while Maddie naps so there's at least a small chance I'll have the money by the time we leave. Christ, I will be *set* if I can get that in time. *crossing fingers*
Dreading going to work this evening, only because I know there will be a wall of photos up from the Palomino work party Sunday night. Those poor bartenders at the Red Light probably don't know what hit them - literally. At one point, I was hit by a cheese tray and subsequently covered in starfruit, swiss cheese, and canteloupe. Mojo Productions, Inc., has indeed created a monster. None of us should be allowed to have a party like that ever again. Pure Dionysian debauchery. But what a freaking blast. Thank god that'll only happen once a year.
Found Eddie yesterday. He's been staying in a shelter most nights of the week, though not all. Relieved to know he's laying his head on a clean pillow at least some of the time. Am hoping his abuse has diminished to part-time rather than full-time. We'll see. The plan is to call the shelter until I can actually speak to him directly, then make plans to pick him up for lunch when I'm in town on Saturday. I'm sure he'll agree to meet with me, if for no other reason than to ask for money. Whether or not he actually shows up on Saturday will remain to be seen. Either way, it's worth a shot.
Finally, some relaxation. Just starting to feel normal again after a week of work and completely stressing out. Some people have asked what's up, so just to clarify the situation... I have a friend in Rockford who has been using heroin for the last year. About two months ago, he was put into a 3-day detox program, then released. Upon his release, he started using again, has lost his job, gotten arrested, and been kicked out of his parents' home as well as one of the halfway houses in Rockford. He has cut off communication with everyone who knows him, including his family, he's on heroin, cocaine, and crack this time, and no one knows where he is.
People die. That's just the way it goes, and I accept that. I can accept a person's death. What I cannot accept is this endless suffering. This limitless abandonment of life. The dead men walking. Something has to happen, and nothing is. It just keeps dragging on.
Ten minutes ago, I was sitting on a bed in a red room on Rockton Ave., and Eddie was telling me to go back to school, that he was the only one who made it, who graduated, and he didn't want to be the only one. He said I didn't belong there, that I had to move forward and get out. And I told him that I wanted him to do the same, and we made a promise. We would both go back to school. Me to high school, Eddie to college. And we'd get out.
Where and when did we lose him. I feel guilty for leaving him behind.
He has completely let go. Just a body, suspended. He may break what laws he chooses, but gravity is not one of them. He will fall.
I just want my phone to ring.
"After great pain, a formal feeling comes -
The Nerves sit cermonious, like Tombs -
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?
The Feet, mechanical, go round -
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought -
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone -
This is the Hour of Lead -
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -
First - Chill - then Stupor - then the letting go -"
- Emily Dickinson
"Yes, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no harm; for Thou art with me: Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou hast anointed my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely, goodness and unfailing love shall follow me all the days of my life..."
- Psalm 22
for Eddie, a Catholic
Ug. What an exhausting week. Day four at the Palomino. I love my job, truly I do, but CHRIST are there some rude people out there. Correction: I love the people I work for and with. Not necessarily the customers. Normally I have a decent length of wick before I start getting a little crabby. This week, however, because I've picked up shifts and consequently been spending more time in the company of drunks, my patience is thinned. I cannot wait until Sunday, when I can stay the fuck at home, spend some time with Greg, and not have to deal with some prick staring at my ass. Well, maybe Greg will look at my ass. But I'm completely okay with that. And he's not a prick. Nothing would make me happier right now than to lie in bed with him and stare at each other's ass. "Look! It's your butt!" "Yes, it is." "It's a nice butt." "Thank you." *happy sigh*
Can I just lay in bed please? Can I just, I don't know, lie around and do the happy love sigh thing? Listen to REM and weep for joy?
Ireland....I am going to Ireland.....there is a light at the end of this long and greasy tunnel filled with smelly alcoholic soul-sucking vampires.....
Oh, for fuck's sake. I'm such a brat.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TRACEY!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!
For Corey, Karac, and Eddie:
"A brother offended is harder to be won than a strong city." - Proverbs 18:19
"For dogs have surrounded me; a crowd of wicked men have encircled me; they have pierced my hands and my feet; I can count all my bones. They look, they stare at me; they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing do they cast lots."
- Psalm 22:16-18
"Part of the price of freedom, then, is the willingness to play, to let go of our adult dignity, to look foolish, to laugh at nothing."
- Starhawk, in _The Spiral Dance_
"Please stay alive
I think about you coming down from that last tour
Wondering how you're making it
I never want to read about you overdosing in your room
I don't want to have to defend you to people that will talk shit
I would do it though
Always
So take good care of yourself
If you forget how
Call me
I'll remind you."
- Henry Rollins, from _See a Grown Man Cry_
"When men lack a sense of awe, there will be disaster."
- Lao Tsu, from the _Tao te Ching_
"Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live."
- Dorothy Parker, "Resume"
"As cold waters to a weary soul, so is good news from a far country."
- Proverbs 26:25