Domestication...

I’ve been overly domesticated this week. Not a bad thing, it’s just not too often that you’ll find me on my hands and knees scrubbing the toilet with a toothbrush like a tweaker who’s run out of marbles to stack. Come to think of it, I can’t ever say I’ve actually used a toothbrush to clean anything other than my teeth. I’ve washed clothes and dishes, mopped floors, and get rid of books, CDs, and clothes that I no longer use. Shit, I even organized the shelves in the furnace room. I found a bunch of roaches and about 40 spent matches. Yeah, not critter roaches. A nice little reminder of how far I have come.

I even spent some time trying to perfect a recipe like a good little house woman. Man Friend will be getting perfect bacon-wrapped scallops on Sunday thanks to that experiment.

I don’t really think of any of it as nesting since I’ve been here for years. Part of me enjoys the element of control that I can have over my home. I’ve been feeling a little undisciplined as of late and there is something very satisfying about feeling comfortable and uncluttered in your home.

I got a little nutty recently and spent a Sunday afternoon feeling shitty about myself and ended up sitting at the back door crying. Bawling was more like it. Where your face gets all sad and messed up and you get so frustrated with yourself for being dumb and you don’t even really know why you’re crying bawling, but on some level, it is a decent release, so you just go for it bawling. So I did that for a while.

Then I kind of got it together.

Then I fell apart again.

I couldn’t really tell you why. Sometimes everything catches up with me and I’m 19 again and life is overwhelming. Maybe someday I’ll explain myself more.

But when I fell apart again, I could taste gin.

So then there was the conversation with myself about going to the Top Hat. The purpose was to drink gin.

Sigh…

So that conversation went on for a bit and Alli talked me out of it because I promised her she would never see me drink. And since everything was overwhelming and yucky and I didn’t know what to do with myself, I got on my bike.

It was one of those really hot, humid days and I rode and rode as fast as I could. I did sprints up and down the boulevards. And thankfully, I started feeling human again. Sweat is a healer. Whatever the nastiness was that was making me nuts was flowing out my pores.

And when the ride felt like it was done, I sat and faced the sun. I know you’re supposed to listen to hippy dippy music when you meditate, but Tom Petty “Wildflower” seemed appropriate. I don’t know if it was the sun or the sweat or Tom, but when it was all said and done, the thought I left with was that anything worth possessing can be carried within your heart. I think I was feeling a little crushed by my stuff.

So began the domestic journey. Getting 100 items out of the house was just the start. I kept a list to 107 just so I knew that I met my goal. I made a little bank getting rid of some stuff and brought the rest to Goodwill. The nice part was remembering to feel grateful that I had a place to clean instead of being annoyed by having to clean. The smallest shifts in my attitude seem to make the biggest difference.

Codogpendence...

Maybe it's too much Elliot Smith or Nick Drake this afternoon, but I am feeling a bit lonely. I know part of me misses Man Friend terribly. He is barely in town for two days each week. And I know we're supposed to have the positive attitude about him having a job and be grateful. We are. It's just hard when you wait 33 years for someone and then he has to leave all the time. I guess five days a week is a flash in the pan when I waited 33 years.

And on some level, the loneliness is my fault. I am quite adept at the self-imposed exile. No offense intended, but I don't really like people generally. Perhaps it's from having to have my smiley face and A game on at work. Perhaps it's because my Anne Frank quality always makes me look for the best in people and time and time again those people have disappointed me. Being hurt is part of being real, so I will take my knocks. And I will still expect the best out of people. I'll take that over being one of those negative Nancy types who expects the worst and then is pisses when she gets it, or as my friend said, "You'd kill your parents and then bitch that you were an orphan."

However my relationships with my fellow humans turn out, I always have the bitches. I have been accused of having a codependent relationship with my dogs. Fuck that. I'll take codogpendence. They listen to my problems so they save me money on therapy. And try to find a shrink who would lick away your tears... Wait maybe that wouldn't be so hard. They also save me money because they are my personal trainers. Two crazy bitches are stellar motivation to get up and go for a run or walk. Plus, they are excellent cuddlers when Man Friend is away. Dogs are capable of unconditional love in a way humans aren't. They never take a bad day out on their human. Fuck even dogs that had nothing but bad days can learn to love humans again.

I know they are wired differently and can be conditioned to be good or bad. But maybe humans should work a little more on conditioning themselves to be good. Maybe I need to start asking myself "What would Alli do?" when I am having a dilemma. Perhaps it would translate into better choices and a better existence for me. I'll just have to keep the translator on so I introduce myself instead of sniff people's asses.

Heartless Bitch with No Children

I was visiting with one of my soon to be ex- neighbors last night and it still amazes me that anything amazes me anymore. He was one half of the nice couple who moved in to one of slumlord's apartments. They each had a child from a previous relationship, his a marriage, hers possibly a Marilyn Manson concert where two chicks fucked each other with a giant double dong on stage.

Okay, I don't know if the child was actually conceived at the concert, but she did tell me that story one time.

Anyway, they also had a child together. I think they are both decent people, just that life has been filled with struggles. We all talk enough that I would know when they were fighting or he was drinking or she ran off to be with her family for a few days and left him with the kids. He has a job, she wa trying to find one that fits with the kids' schedules. It is really the same story that is being played out on different levels all over.

So I knew things hadn't been great with them for awhile and I knew they were looking for a better place so they would have more room, but I was surprised to see him moving out last night, new "roommate" in tow, go ahead and read into that, and her and the kids no where to be found.

He relayed the news of the break-up, adding a fews details I didn't need to know and ended with a sentnece that stopped me in my tracks. "We got the whole thing worked out with the baby, every other weekend, and no child support," which came out in an almost proud way, like he got away with it, since he was already paying to the ex-wife on the other child.

It's moments like these that I want to bitch slap people and explain that birth control never asks for child support. Condoms don't need your time. I wanted to ask the new roommate if she was already knocked up since he seems to have such strong swimmers, although I'm not entirely certain she would have gotten the joke.

And I wonder what will be of the ex and the kiddos? She was bewildered that I am 33 years old and have no children. I wanted to explain to her not getting pregnant was easier than getting pregnant.

I propose putting birth control in the water system and if you want to have a child, you must apply for the antedote. Condoms would still be a necessity for disease prevention, but is anyone else with me?