2012 Goes Down Best With Bad Wine And Lemon Cake

I have a little house close to town but not to the city.  Far from home but near my family.  No water views but so close to the sea, I see that this is how my little life could be.  

And I'm filling it with things, like furniture that I find on the street.  And all the special things I'd like to eat.  Pictures of people that I'd like to meet.  I'll meet them while I'm orbiting the world.  

And it's so pretty.  And so lonely.  

Willie killed David.  That was the opening line to this blog when I started it on new years day of 2010, as a continuation of the blog I had kept since 2005 that I grew out of.  I didn't just grow out of the title, which people would gag over ("be your own doll, sweetie") but I didn't really know what a blog was when I started it so I kind of messed it up with all kinds of weird blinkie icons in the posts and of course, there was also the fact that I posted every single day without fail which meant that sometimes the quality of what I posted was...uncomfortably sad.  That and I was told later that the David's Doll blog had an underlying tone of constant disappointment, which meant that even when things were truly good they still were not able to be perceived by the readers as "truly good."

Willie killed David was the start of a very spiritual side of my life, which I have since explored and experienced.

Remember the Triforce.

You know, when that woman showed up she tried so hard to be a part of the Triforce that it was pathetic and sad.  The Triforce was history, a part of something that you really can't become a part of because it's hard to even define.  It felt about as foolish as trying to interject herself into me and David's marching band stories.  Could you imagine?  "Oh yes, I remember the time we found burritos in the sousaphones, I was there!"  or pointing out a little Christmas ornament looking fucker on the video screen and saying "that's me, right there, the one playing trumpet."

She was very upset that the three of us had this thing.  This thing that's really hard to explain.

All I know is David no longer lives here and he stopped returning my phone calls ages ago.

So I started to get on with my life.  I started applying for school and jobs and I kept having to tell the school that "I'm about to be served with divorce papers" and they would say "that's not divorced enough you have to claim his income" which was partly what prevented me from getting certain grants.

I tried to get him to agree to give me a six month head start so I could get my shit together.  He said no, it wasn't his problem, and that he would be giving me $500 a month in "child support" and I'd have to figure the rest out.  So when a month had passed and he said "don't worry about when I'm going to serve you," I just did it my damn self so I could move on.

I spent years building my life around these children and his career.

It's really no wonder that I wanted to pawn him off on whoever could tolerate him.  It's no wonder that I told him "I am far too lonely and I may not be here when you get back" when he was fixing to leave for his six month CHP training in Sacramento.

Now where are we at?  We're at the point where he can show up to every court appointment, but he can't show up for his visits because of his "unpredictable schedule."  You know what isn't unpredictable?  The court order. 

When he sits next to me waiting to be called into court I know he's trying to read me.  He does that empath shit and now it's worse because he's learned to manipulate. 

There's nothing to read, guy.  You know what is emanating?  It's not anger or sadness, or even annoyance.  It's the same thing everyone in the grocery store reads off of me: I do not want to interact with strangers.  People say I have this aura that blasts through walls that people feel coming from a mile away.  Except in the 99 cent store.  Old ladies accost me about Sargento cheese and there was that one Romney Hair lady.  But that might just be because everyone in the 99 has a head fulla mad. 

Or maybe it's feeling just the same to him because I've been shutting him out for years now. 

Maybe that's why he has his girlfriend write emails saying "this divorce is happening whether you want it to or not" when I'm the one who served. 

Maybe he's picking up those feelings of contempt I've had for him all this time and it feels so familiar of when we were together that he thinks I'm in love. 

However, "please don't touch me, I am not a hug person" is valid whether I love you or not.  Just ask Daryl and Raya's 6 year old boy who Daryl has trained to give me air hugs from across the room.  It reminds me of my friend Stephanie in high school who would stretch her arms out and say "no touch." 

Willie killed David and you know what?  I'm rather spiritual privately, though a few have pointed out that it slips through in my journaling.  Spiritual does not mean Christian or God.  It's something private that only I understand. 

Vote with your attention span.  

Also, GYPSIES.  There, I said it. 

I just hope somebody learns. 

I did.  I learned so much from this year, and it's been probably the most difficult year of my adult life.  The good news is I am moving forward and I think I know what I want to be when I grow up.  More importantly, I know what I want to be right now. 

So as I always do at year's end...

Music:  Amanda Fucking Palmer (no more fucking, she's married now.)  Not to be all hipster, but she and the Dolls have been my thing since 2005 after I landed on a Myspace page who had the auto play on Coin Operated Boy.  So this isn't like all "omg I just discovered this let me tell the world about In My Mind and how it's my mantra and how it's saved my life."  The thing is, I've gone running back to Amanda being on in my car, on my computer...I mean those are the only two places I really listen to music, I don't have an iPod nor do I really go anywhere.  I'm also really particular about when and where I play music, and have really started listening to more AM talk radio to combat the spinning gears when music is on in my brain.

Mostly I have the Goes Down Under album in the car, and various old Dresden Dolls, Evelyn Evelyn and Who Killed going on with my computer.  I don't listen at home much but when I do it's basically all that is in my list.  Due to the events of this year, I have removed every single Beatles song from my playlist because I cannot hear The Beatles right now.

But Amanda, specifically on repeat in my car:  Australia.

"I could tiptoe on a tightrope made of fear and look and down see all the people do they see me I could wave or I could carry all the dishes that they gave me that are keeping me steady."  

"I could make a button out of plaster that says 'finished' I could hang it in my closet to the left side of the light switch, I could walk down to a restaurant and try drinking to forget it and then come home less afraid and then press it and press it."  

"Fuck it, I'm gonna go to Australia."  

A few songs that picked up meaning for me:  Pumped Up Kicks, Already Gone, and Landslide.

"All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better run better run, faster than my bullet!"  That's right bitches.  I will zoom past and break sound barriers and pierce metal. 

And why had I never actually heard the lyrics of "Already gone?"

"Well, I heard some people talkin' just the other day
And they said you were gonna put me on a shelf
But let me tell you I got some news for you
And you'll soon find out it's true
And then you'll have to eat your lunch all by yourself"
 
"The letter that you wrote me made me stop and wonder why
But I guess you felt like you had to set things right
Just remember this, my girl, when you look up in the sky
You can see the stars and still not see the light"

"Well I know it wasn't you who held me down
Heaven knows it wasn't you who set me free
So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains
And we never even know we have the key "

And Landslide.  I always hear it at weddings probably entirely because it starts off with "this is for you, Daddy" in the live version.  Before 2012 I could never photograph a Daddy-Daughter dance, probably because of Landslide and the sappiness of country music songs about daddies and daughters.  But I can do it now.  I mean fuck those sappy country songs still, but I found new meaning in Landslide.  I know what it means.

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older
I'm getting older too 

Music is something that I've always hated and loved at the same time.  I try listening to classical music while doing math and my head explodes.  Actually, classical music makes my head explode and generally makes me very anxious and yelly.  There's so much to process and I can't process it all at once.  If someone starts singing a little tune I tell them to shut the fuck up.  If someone has music on it makes me angry.  I don't understand why people don't understand why some of this crap isn't "music" and why there are only some times when Chicago is acceptable. 

But, some of the things that I learned about myself after those tests have revealed answers as to why.  One reason, is I'm extremely "music smart."  Like, I'm as much "music smart" as I am smart about writing and introspection.  But music is math and math frustrates me so there's something awkward there.

I wish I could just zone out.  Make a button out of plaster that says finished and then press it to remind myself that it's done, I don't have to go back. 

Person:  Me.  Me me me me me.  I fucking survived this year and I am a champion.  I am moving forward, I am good at what I do...sorta.  But I do it.  I win.  I accomplished so much, and though I owe some of my biggest supporters a mention, I stayed on track.  Shout outs to the State Of California--specifically the Child Support division, to my paralegals, to my school counselor.  To everyone who ever received one of my phone calls.  My internet friends.  To Victor's family, my longest time friends, and of course Willie.

I am kept well by a network of people who care about my well being.  I'm thankful for it.

I'm also thankful that I have the power to get myself out of bed every morning to face another day.  To miss the big Christmas production to finish a final in a class I am failing, just simply because I knew it was important not to give up.  To not be bullied.  To do what I have to do to keep everyone fed and okay.  For fighting the hell out of a learning disability instead of turning away because I don't think I'm capable of the work.

I juggled kids (with my other parent person working full time,) a full time job, and 14 units of school.  I didn't do it well, but nobody died and nobody quit.  I was thankful for my layoff but nobody quit.  I didn't pass maths but I didn't quit.

I get 2012.  It was the hardest year of my adult life but I won.  I get it. 

Day:  The day I took the $200 that I earned as a dental guinea pig and brought my kids to the water park they'd seen on the TV as a combined birthday gift.  Yeah it was a shitty water park but the kids were thrilled.  Willie and I sat by the lazy river when we weren't in it, and the kids went on waterslide after waterslide and had a blast.  That was the big payoff for all that pain under that girl's stupid needles and drills.  Every time I'd start to panic when this dental student was digging in my mouth I just remembered that I was going to take my kids to the water park that they'd seen on the TV.  Finally, something paid off. 

Month:  Hmm.  Well January and February I lived in a box-fort at the apartment with that crazy lady hovering over my stuff, March the crazy lady was still here hovering over my stuff and doing these dramatic "I guess you don't want me here" shows, April is when my stuff was stolen, May is when all this divorce stuff started, June was the aftermath of that, July is when I kicked my niece out, August...August was probably my best month, because it's when we took the kids to the water park and Daryl and Raya moved in.  September is...oh no wonder I don't remember it right away, I was working like 40 million hours a week and I was frazzled as fuck trying to do school, do the kid's school and do my job.  October was half work half me trying to catch up with school.  November there were free turkeys at the Effin Easy if you spent $30, so we got a bunch of them and then had a fabulous Thanksgiving meal, and December, well, December is always hard.  But we had a good Christmas.  And I liked spending Christmas Eve cooking for my friend.

Book:  According to my Good Reads account I have only read three books this year.  I did not list Men Who Hate Women and The Women Who Love Them, though I should have, as it's my bible right now.  I intend to go through it chapter by chapter in a journal, maybe this journal.  But it's not really a pleasure read by definition, except that I find it fascinating.  It's what made me decide to go with Psychology. 

But as for pleasure reading, I don't know.  I liked The Graveyard Book, which I had previously heard by audio but had only just read in October.  Miss Perigrine's School for Peculiar Children was a weirdly cool concept and was executed nicely.  I read my first Doctorow, Little Brother and really liked it because it reminded me of Victor.  He was that kind of kid.  Unfortunately I lent the book to David and I'm pretty sure I'm never getting it back. Sad because that book was given to me by a friend. 

Memory: 

She's gonna go to Australia, bye bye.