This is not easy. I really wanted to come back and just tell everyone about the good stuff that happened on my trip. But why pretend the other didn't take place. Anyway, you'll probably find more errors than usual. I can't bring myself to read back over this again..... Here's most of what I wrote and what happened while I was away....
Friday, 4/6/01 - Vocke Road, MD 12:15 pm
Got a late start; I should have known. I'm at Wendy's. No smoking in any Maryland restaurants-- how awful. Big anxiety attack. Have to take a xanax but I hate to ( I'm so tired already.) Raining the whole time-- my hair is frisbo city and before I left, I painted my fingernails purple... must look bizarre. You'd never know I took an hour getting ready this morning. Of course, the first thing I did was spill diet coke all over my shirt. I can't take me anywhere, I swear. I really am going to spend a week alone at the beach. Is this really what I want? I'm not really certain and anyway things go how they go. Doesn't really matter what you want, does it?
Saturday, 4/7/01 - PW's, Virginia Beach, VA - 12:45 am
I'm so tired. I drank too much. I am totally crazy.
Still Saturday - Kill Devil Hills, NC - 1:00 pm
Peggy took me to breakfast at the Belvidere, a tiny restaurant that looks outs over the boardwalk in Va Beach. I had an egg, cheese, bacon, tomato, etc. sandwich and iced tea to drink-- really good. We took a drive afterward and she showed me where Dave is working, a swanky looking hotel. I think it was called Turtle Cay. Reminded me of Casablanca or something you'd see in the old south or maybe in New Orleans or who the hell knows what I'm talking about? Not I.
On the beach - 6:30 pm
Wind is picking up. Guess I should have come down earlier when the sun was hotter. My house is great. We should be renting it-- it costs less in season than the one we've been getting off season. Pretty empty around here. I should have worn my jacket-- it's colder than I thought.
Man, was I hung over today. Didn't seem like I drank that much last night. It was only wine. Jean & PW and I took the dogs for a walk up to the beach. The reflection of the moon on the waves was breathtaking. They were still ready to drink more when we got back but I couldn't even see straight.
11:35 pm
Counting Crows on, rain candles burning, ceiling fans on, drinking the Saint. Took a walk on my way home from the beach. Stopped in at the Trading Post. Chock full of beach junk and some groceries. There's a bike rental place going the other direction. Watched a movie on TV, "The Crossing Guard" with Jack Nicholson... depressing. I had seen most of it before but not the end. At least he didn't kill David Morse. Had ramen noodles and pretzels and rice cakes (gee, I wasn't too hungry, was I?) Took another walk tonight, around the block but not on the Bypass-- had to double back to avoid it. Shit, just spilled the Saint & coffee all over my UPMC shirt. Oh well.... good thing it's all gone. I have to be careful not to fall down the rabbit hole...
"Save some sorrow in your hearts and minds
For things that die before their time"
Marilyn says it's a stupid phrase, to die before one's time. But in this case I'm sure she'd agree, when you are dead in spirit but still living and evidently able to continue on, possibly indefinitely. I never know what is real and what I'm imagining anymore. I get mixed messages.
Sunday, 4/8/01 - house - 9:05 am
Listening to Porgy and Bess. I cleaned up my house. Found some sweet smelling hand cream in the kitchen. Hope it doesn't make my hands break out. Forgot my damn Cetaphil. Wonder if they sell it at the Food Lion? Wonder where a drug store is? Don't think I've ever been to a drug store down here but I must have. I sprained my ankle down here. I was down here with a bad back one time. The back door has a pane of glass missing. Don't know how I could have missed that before??? I've had it open almost the whole time I've been here. Too bad this house doesn't have an ocean view but it doesn't. Not even a little like that original house. I can't remember the name. It was something like this one... Burch (no), oh yeah, Burgess. Had to call Joe. He remembered. The sun is out and it's pretty warm. Besides the back door, I have the front door and kitchen window open. Guess I'd better take a walk down to the beach. A guy & his son are playing basketball at the house beside me. One of the houses behind me has a really neat roof deck. No one is staying there-- no lights, no cars. I really wanted to climb up there last night & again this morning. See if I can see the ocean from there.
Beach - 11:00 am
Hot! Sunny and so nice. The ocean is like friggin ice water though. Watched a kid almost get his 4 x 4 truck stuck in the sand (ha ha.) It's too soft to be driving on. Hell, it's not even firm enough for good walking. I found a shell polished smooth as glass. My mom would have liked it as a worry stone. Both the shell and the truck remind me of the futility of worrying about my problems. Trying to solve them is like trying to rub my way through the shell-- not in a lifetime will this occur. And the truck, spinning its wheels, only succeeding in burying itself. It had to back up and try a different route before it could drive out onto the hard road (which isn't really hard for the truck but easy!) In that sense, I can't just keep worrying. In order to make progress I'm going to have to do some traveling. Keep on truckin'
House - 11:45 am
I kept finding more & more symbolism. Oh my, guess what! I haven't taken my pills yet. Do they rob me of my ability to sort out imagination verses reason? Van Morrison on the stereo, I might have to get up and dance!!
I really don't need anyone to make me feel bad about myself. Sometimes people can say things that Whumph! Hit you like a baseball bat. Knocks the wind right out of you. Makes your smiling face feel like it's painted on, like a face in a freak show on a midway. Sometimes people say things that redefine reality. Wonder how often I've done that to someone and not even realized... just said something silly never intending to blow someone's life to pieces. Scary. A little ladybug flew up and landed on me when I was sitting on the beach. "Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home. Your house is on fire and your children will burn." What a ghastly little poem for such a pretty little creature. Who the hell thought that one up? I've got such a vivid imaginary life going on in my head. Like some stupid paperback or B movie. Wonder when I'm going to grow up and face the truth? List of movies I'd like to rent: Dirty Dancing, Harold and Maude, Picnic, Jacob's Ladder, Hotel New Hampshire.
5:10 pm
Just got back from the beach, very foggy and the ocean choppy. The breeze was a bit chilly but the sand was divine, warm. I ran my hands through it for hours. Drinking a cup of tea and listening to Michael Feinstein. He's so romantic. I fell asleep for awhile on the front deck. Started reading my bible (Kathy would be happy.) Started with Matthew but he passed right over Mary, so I switched to Luke. I have these dreams that are so nice and then I wake up and still feel good but about what? The dream? Like that really means anything. It goes the same way with nightmares; one can end up ruining my whole day. I'm always seeing these connections where there really aren't any. And I freak out about near misses in my life. I get so worked up; such a tragedy, like a gull with a broken back, never able to soar again but always remembering what could have been. God, I'm so needy & stubborn & foolish & crazy!!!
Monday, 4/9/01 - house - 3:00 am
Beautiful full moon. Clear, soft night. I fell asleep watching Scuzzy & Mildew. I'm listening to Chopin. Took a long walk down to look at the ocean... such a night like this... so perfect. I couldn't have wished for anything more as far as weather goes. This house is pretty neat and the neighborhood is quiet, in nice shape. My little getaway... My rendezvous with me, myself, and I.... at least we all showed up. The reason I called this meeting is to tell you all how crazy we really are...
I'll probably be stiff tomorrow. Played guitar for awhile tonight. Didn't sound 1/2 bad either. (Of course, I guess that means I didn't sound 1/2 good.) There are four sea captains standing watch o'er me from atop the kitchen cabinets. Old Saul, Leroy, Fess, and Captain Scott (Captain, my Captain.) I know old Saul doesn't really have a jack-o-lantern, scarecrow, snowman face. It only seems that way. It's Monday already. Only 5 more days and I get to go home, all my dilemmas solved. I finally made up a bed to sleep in. (You've made your bed, now go sleep in it....) Last night I just threw a couple of blankets on the bed in the front bedroom. Found WVOD, the radio station I listen to on the Web, "the Sound", 99.1, from Manteo. They played some great stuff. Yesterday morning it was old music from the 20's and 30's. I really want to let the past go. Remember my parents sweet eyes and how funny they were. They always had this way of making things seem manageable. God, they wouldn't know me I've become so jaded, disillusioned, beaten, used up.
6:15 am
The kitchen door belongs in Lassie's house (no pane, no gain, no screen.) Good thing it's too early in the season for 'skeeters. (Timmy's got 'skeeter fever.) Joe said he'd have Lauren call me this morning. Didn't get much sleep but I have all day to make up for it. Left the radio on all night thinking it might make it easier to sleep but instead it was distracting.
Dreamed I was working my old job at Even Start and I had Lauren with me. She was just a baby. I laid her down on the floor to change her diaper but had to get up to look for some paper towels. I left here there. Thought I would just be gone a second.... When I finally got back Heather was leaving with Lauren and very angry with me for leaving Lauren with those Even Start people (couldn't blame her.) I tried to catch up with Heather but ended up in an old friend's house and ran into his mother.... not my favorite person, not at all. Had to make up some story about leaving my nephew a note (he lived upstairs, whoever he was, poor soul. Not Steve or Dave.) My mom asked if she could borrow a cream colored sweatshirt. I didn't have one but I noticed she already had on three turtlenecks (red, cream, and navy) and two sweatshirts (red and navy.) What the hell did all that mean?
Brought good coffee down with me.... mixed 8 0'clock with Kona and Fr. Vanilla. Yum. The bird songs are hypnotizing me.... sending me back to Sleepy Town. I tried cutting back on my meds yesterday but I think I'll stick with the regular dosages. Augh.... too many pills, not enough coffee. Still haven't figured out where that pane of glass went (no, it wasn't a pain in the ass but it's getting to be.) Garbage truck is out front making a terrible racket. The birds were singing at 2 am last night, guess because the moon was so bright.
"Don't the moon look good baby, shining down on me"
This morning the sun was starting to light the sky but the moon was still very visible though it had shifted in position. Moved out to the picnic table on the back deck. Sky is turning to pink & lavender now. No view of the water is hard. I'm not used to being down here and not seeing it. The clouds all have golden lining this morning. The sun is the color of dandelions. The houses here are much closer together than in Whalehead or maybe the lots are smaller or it's just more developed. Most of them are one story on stilts, old "beach boxes" I keep trying to go upstairs but there isn't any. It's nice for carrying things in and out of though, one flight of stairs instead of two.
"Hello cowgirl in the sand
Is this place at your command"
Gutters on these houses, that's new. Not all of them but this house and the one next door. The sun is up but behind a navy blue cloud. I can see it through a tiny bore hole. Looks like the eye of God. I need extra prayers at this point. I prayed a lot yesterday.
The color of the sun is changing to lemon frost now. I'm still protected by that cloud. Otherwise I'd have to be loading up on sun block lotion. Low tide last night was the 1st time I could really walk on the beach. Didn't spy another soul out on "such a night like this"....
It's coming out!!! The sun's coming out!!
"I am on a lonely road and I am traveling, traveling, traveling
Looking for something what can it be
Talked to Lauren. Painted a picture. All my paintings look the same-- have the sun rising or setting. Didn't talk to Joe other than before he put her on. She had been sleeping, sounded tired.
I keep asking myself the same question over & over again? What am I doing here? Why do I choose to be alone then just feel lonely? This isn't what I envisioned (but what is?)
Beach - 12:25 pm
The beach does incredible things to your bad state of mind.... like make you happy as can be. Water isn't as cold as yesterday. I went in a little deeper than I intended, snuck up on me, my shorts are all wet. Watched a Jeep get stuck in the sand.... Daily entertainment for this time of year I guess. I brought a water bottle to the beach. Good thing. I took a walk up & down the beach and when I got back I drank 1/2 of it straight down.
Three teenage girls lying on towels. Bikinis only look good on teenage girls with good bodies. My body never qualified, not as a teenager or any other time. One of these girls is suited up in gold lame' . She's got her hair in a ponytail sticking out the top of her head, looks like Christine Aguilera (sp?) Genie in a Bottle. Of course she is the one who won't go near the water. The suit might disintegrate if it got in the ocean.
House - 1:15 pm
Sitting on the front steps. Shady, delightful. I could do with a wine cooler. Keep thinking of things to buy: something for Lauren, an ashtray (can't find one in the house.) Guess I won't worry about the Cetaphil. I should write some birthday thank you notes and buy stamps. I can't read with music on. My mind won't shut the one out for the other. Ditto for reading at the beach. I know it's supposed to be one of the most loved activities but I can't ever concentrate on the book... too busy watching the surf & sand & birds & people & dogs. I can write there, no problem.
6:45 pm
Walked down to the Trading Post. Got an ashtray, a bottle of Advil, 2 cans of soup, a can opener, and an OBX sticker. Came to $20 even. Told the girl I should be buying a lottery ticket-- what are the odds of buying stuff that cost exactly twenty dollars? I left there and walked up to the beach, pounded sand for a nice long time. Heather called earlier. I told her about the job I saw for her in the Coastland Times (a really piss poor excuse for a newspaper, by the way... grammatical errors, spelling errors, you name it, they've screwed it up.)
Have to laugh. The soup I bought were two for one, Campbell's, Chicken & Rice. They're totally out of date, dusty, look like they've been on the shelf for a long, long time. Could not believe this house didn't have a can opener. Man, if I spill anything else on this shirt, it will have eaten more than I. If I die of botulism, they can pretty much trace my last few hours but analyzing this shirt.
Lots of people down here doing maintenance on their houses (you can write off vacations doing that.) Scrubbing decks, painting houses, mowing grass. That's something I can't understand. Why go to all that trouble, planting, watering, weeding, mowing when you don't have to. I like the yards that are natural better anyway. This guy next door is mowing dirt-- there's no grass there buddy.
"Oh Jonah he lived in a whale
Jonah he lived in a whale
He made his home in
That fish's abdomen
Oh Jonah, he lived in a whale."
I, too, "take the gospel whenever it's possble but with a grain of salt."
Moving outside to the front deck. Too nice not be be out here. Birds are singing like the Mendelssohn choir. Next door the grandparents came. Man, I miss my parents so much. The one old guy is wearing a straw hat, suspenders holding his jeans up. Walter Brennan look-a-like. He just brought out a jug of something to drink; looks mighty tasty. One little boy on a scooter looks like David Alley when he was little. Both boys are wearing Tevla sandals, one with socks, the other without. The two women could be my sisters they look so much like me. One is sunburned a little, a redhead. The other is blonde. The redhead is married to an Hispanic. They all keep talking about Braddock and Mckeesport... obviously know Pittsburgh but I think they're from Virginia. Now they're talking about Iron City beer and boilermakers.... yes, I'll have one if you're offering. Thump, thump, thump... that one kid could play basketball 24 hours a day. When they all left for awhile today, I was so tempted to go over there and steal that basketball. First of all I wanted to play with it. And second, I'm sick to death of hearing thump, thump, thump. SHUT UP!!!! They're all going out for dinner & a ride to Jockey's Ridge. The one kid is right, it'll be dark before they get there. Bye-bye, don't come back anytime soon. I'm so rude. Put my OBX sticker on my car. Looks like it was made for it.
"Hey Joe, where you goin' with that gun in your hand
I'm goin' down to shoot my woman
You know I caught her with another man"
This has been an absolutely perfect day, weather wise. The sun is disappearing. It's 7:35. The sky is mauve over in the west. Looks like plum blossoms. Are plum blossoms mauve??? Or are they plum??? Beats me. I like to think they are mauve. They're probably white.
"Birds flying in the sky
You know how I feel
Sun shining in the sky
You know how I feel...
It's a new day, it's a new way
It's a new life for me and I'm feeling good"
Ah, Traffic. I do love Stevie Winwood's voice. Good thing I'm good at entertaining myself. I can always provide a good time if given the chance! Can't believe I bought 2 ashtrays so far on this trip. Tells you a little about my priorities.... cleaning up after my filthy habits. Might be going to have to get a wee bit tipsy tonight. Hey, why not? I deserve it. Have to remember to take my sleeping pills when it's time for sleep and not get hurt. Have to be careful. Guess that means killing myself is out.
"See ya later"
God, I love how he says that with that crazy British accent... See ya later, indeed. Felt like I needed to stretch all day.
Ruined my painting. Not that it was any good anyway. Good old fashioned medicated goo..... 2 trazadone, 2 xanax, 3 tylenol, that on top of the Saint ought to do me good. If not I have some excedrine pm's. Gee, think maybe I want to sleep? Just don't want to get crazy-- burn my manuscript or start calling people. Just go gently into the night (or is it unto the night?) Just want to sleep in heavenly peace. Sleep, sleep, dreamless sleep. To sleep per chance not to dream.
I swear, I hear more sirens down here than I did when I was working in Oakland, surrounded by hospitals. Sure getting a lot of Hail Marys said. Put on my long, sleeveless, hooded sweatshirt dress and candles are burning. This stereo here is better than nothing but just barely-- can't turn it up loud at all (boo, hiss.) Saw a cutie pie at the ocean tonight. He was probably all of 20 years old. Had his surf board, frisbee, tennis ball and his dog. He was throwing the ball for the dog to catch but the dog looked like he'd really rather go home and take a nap.
Tuesday - 4/10/01 - 7:35 am
Well, that was strange. Woke up at 12:30 and again at 2:30. It's all very jumbled-- I think it was the pills not the booze (or a combination of the two-- J.Joplin song title!) At any rate, the second time I woke up because I heard someone open the back door. Then I heard someone else trying to get in the front door. Don't know if I was being foolish or brave but I came out of the bedroom anyway. The wind had kicked up and the blinds were flapping. Neither door was touched. I turned on all the outside lights. The damn wind chime was driving me crazy-- clang, clang, clang. I always loved wind chimes before. This, however, was annoying from the start when I found it broken under the house and "fixed" it using a coat hanger. I kept envisioning the neighbors ripping it down to begin with but now I think it was more likely the former tenant. My back is so sore. It's be bugging me for a couple of days. A guy is walking up the street as if he was walking for the 1st time after being in a coma for a number of years, very slow, hesitant. Too young to be old. Wearing jeans & a jacket, a hat, socks, shoes, shirt-- too many clothes. It's gorgeous out there. Not sure if he's the same guy I saw yesterday. That one had on a sleeveless shirt and had tattoos all up & down his arms. All his clothes were black. Johnny Cash Beach Boy?? Looked as if he might be a construction worker but that wouldn't make sense that he'd be walking up the street at such a strange time (mid afternoon.) The neighbors have commandeered a third house... this one they parked bikes under. What? Do they own the whole street? The one guy said he was "breaking the chain" by marrying a white girl (I guess as opposed to a Hispanic.) She (the redhead) said, "He married a hick!" referring to herself. Who would I have to make fun of and be entertained by were they not residing next to me? My chairs at this dining table are always pointed the wrong direction for my body. My fingernails are growing double time. I removed the purple polish from them when I took a bath the other night.
Just heard from Lauren she got her report card. Had 10 A's, 2 S's and 1 C. The C was in conduct.
Beach - 4:40 pm
Chilly out. I'm wearing jeans, a tee shirt and my jacket. Took my tennies off when I sat down but think I'll put them back on! I think I know why I'm here. It's so obvious-- I can't believe it took me so long to realize. I'm here in this paradise of sorts (to me anyway) alone to understand that paradise without the ones you love is just another pretty place. I miss my parents. I will forever I guess. I miss Joe & Heather & Lauren & Marilyn & Growlf & Sheba. I miss having someone to talk to and someone to talk back to me. I miss touching someone. I miss hearing their voices and seeing their smiles and even their frowns. Maybe I just needed time alone to appreciate not being alone but surrounded by my loves. I wonder if Joe knew this? He is so smart and good. He would know but I needed to find out myself (God, I sound like Dorothy in Oz or something.) Maybe the whole reason why I've been pulling away from "us" is because I don't want to be left alone again, like my parents left me? Too scary. Hurts too bad.
House - 5:42 pm
Stopped by the Trading Post on my way back. Bought stamps to mail my cards. Took a ride earlier. First time I've had the car out since I got here. It's covered in pollen, fine, green dust (and salt & dirt.) What a mess. I'd rinse it off but the idiots have the outside water shut off. Anyway I stopped by Ocean Atlantic Rentals and rented some videos then drove to Austin's Fish Market and treated myself-- bought a 1/2 pound of steamed spiced shrimp... too die for. At it with my (old) Chicken & Rice soup and some pretzels. Watched Jacob's Ladder again. Knew I had seen it and liked it but couldn't remember much about it...... Wooo-eeee. It blew me away, again. So intense. I'm glad I watched it during the day. If I had watched it tonight, I'd never be able to sleep afterwards. Getting very froggy out. Strange day. For awhile it looked like it might rain then it was gorgeous then a cold front moved in. Now I'm frogged in!!! Other than today, I've been very good about my diet (shrimp aren't that bad are they?)
Tried to work on editing my book. Didn't get too far. At least I worked on it for an hour. First time since I've been here for that too. I've been way too preoccupied with asinine shit (what else is new?) Had to shut the windows and doors while I was doing it. It was too pretty outside to concentrate. Guess I should go someplace ugly or totally nondescript if I really want to get any work done. Stephen King would understand this. In his writing book, he talks about this fancy shmancy writing desk he always wanted. He finally got it but then all he ever did when he was sitting at it was get drunk. Finally had to go back to his old desk, under the eaves, to get any writing done.
8:00 pm
"Today was just a day fading into another
And that can't be what a life is for"
R. Brautigan, An Unfortunate Woman:
"My life has actually been without a dynamic for
over a year,
and I just keep taking too long to do very simple things,
and my heart has been like a colony on the moon
populated by unique icicles who apparently have no transition."
"It becomes more and more apparent as I proceed with this journey
that life cannot be controlled and perhaps not even envisioned
and that certainly design & portent are out of the question."
Let me make myself perfectly clear. Oh, okay, I thought. Never mind. It doesn't matter. The difference between what I want and what is real couldn't be further apart. Galaxies separate them. Problem is I get so caught up in what I want that I really have difficulty discerning truth from fiction, reality from fantasy.
But that's all right. I came down to sort it out and by god, it's being made clear.... clearer than the finest crystal glass.
I cried awhile today. My skin is so very thin, incredibly thin for one so experienced. At what point does innocence become ignorance? I crossed over that fine line when my head splattered apart a couple years ago. Like a watermelon run over by a Mack truck. My head and the logic in it were pulverized. I entered fantasy land. The only admittance fee was my well being, my sanity, my marriage, my life.
Maybe we all need for our heads to be pulverized once in awhile. We all need to die eventually. Maybe I'm already dead but just pretending I'm not???
Sometimes I'd just like to soar away into the dark night, to get as far away from me as possible, sever that silver cord, that fragile thread. I just feel too much and want so bad. I don't have to worry about not wanting to know the truth anymore. Here's me: Someone comes along and blows a hole through my head with a shotgun and I spend the next couple of years trying to figure out if that person maybe doesn't give a shit about me. I don't care to try to communicate with that person any longer. I could get better feedback and understanding from a sweet potato. A candied yam. Like Arthur Robinson.... "Some people are never quite what they seem." I could confuse Albert Einstein with Alfred E. Newman. What, me worry?
Wednesday - 4/11/01 - 11:30 am
Sitting out on the front deck. Finished the Brautigan book. Written by a man who killed himself. Written about a woman who hanged herself. Read by me, a woman who spends an inordinate amount of time considering what killing herself would be like.
A woman a couple of cottages down is washing her car. I think a guy from that house was washing his care the day before yesterday. I will from now on call them the "Car Washers." They have a little girl who rides a two wheeler but with training wheels. I think they have a baby boy also. The woman appears to be washing the car with a teeny tiny hankie. Is it lace, I wonder? She herself is teeny tiny in a way.
Overcast out but pleasant. The sweet little dog who lives next door with the basketball kid came over to visit. I was sitting on the back steps earlier, finishing reading the book. The one about the woman who hanged herself. The one written by the man who killed himself.
I'm drinking the Saint earlier and earlier. Only wish I had something stronger. Trying to keep it light though. Bought some wine coolers at the store last night. And a mug for Joe. And a picture cube for Lauren. The Car Washers have a University of Virginia flag hanging outside their cottage. The Hispanic grandfather next door walked down to mail something from the post office.... It's right across the Bypass from the end of this street. He was wearing sandals. I went ahead and mailed my stuff from a box down in Nag's Head. The Hispanic grandfather is mowing his grass but it's not grass.... it's scrub weed!! Why is he bothering?? They are a family who likes to make loud repetitive noises-- thump, thump, thump (the basketball) and wickety-woo, wickety-woo, wickety-woo (the lawnmower.) Probably a good thing I put on yesterday's shirt this morning. I just threw coffee and the Saint all over the front of me. I'm being good. The only person I really wanted to come down her to escape from was me. How ironic and silly. Did I tell you the sweet little dog came a visiting? She's a Phoebe/Patty dog type. Cute and very special. I think Growlf probably wired a message down asking her to look in on me.
Randy, Ryan... the boys next door might be twins. Or maybe they just always refer to them as one unit... "Randy/Ryan." Sort of like they used to do with Marilyn and I, calling us, "the girls." Marilyn always hated that. Said it stripped us of our individuality. I never felt I had much (individuality) so didn't mind being considered a part of "the girls."
I always wanted to have a twin too. The angst of being alone as one always bothered me. When I fall in love and get carried away, I tell myself I'm finding the other part of me.
My movies are due back at 6 this evening. Dang. When will I ever have a chance to watch the other two? I rented them to keep me company during the times when I couldn't or wouldn't write. And when I didn't wish to play guitar or read or paint. That's just about never. Heather called from work. Said I should go sit on the beach for her. Suppose I should. I should go sit on the beach for someone, right?? It's Wednesday. I have 2 1/2 days left to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life.
"Couldn't go back to the greasers
Best they could do was pick up their pieces
But we always knew they would somehow find a way to survive"
Me and Brender & Eddie. Guess I'll try to watch Little Man Tate. I need a little something in my life. Five minutes or less of news sent me into a tailspin... 9 year old boy drowned in YMCA pool in Norfolk. God.
2 pm
August and Everything After. I've waited all week to listen to this. Had to play it. God... drunk at 2 pm at the beach (but I'm at the house.) So what am I going to do? Sink into the hole? Wait endlessly? Who would ever believe I'd be lonelier than ever here in this paradise? Well, one thing I can finally say. I get it. Finally. I get it.
Here is what I'd do if I weren't such a chicken shit, fat, sexless ninny: I'd reach into my chest with my bare hands and rip my own fucking heart out. I'm like some slithering snake, crawling on my belly, pleading. How do I go on from this? I don't know but I have to go on. I have to take the videos back by six o'clock. I should maybe dig into my veins for blood to paint with. Instead I'll use a child's box of watercolors.
Maybe there's a bar I could walk to (& be able to stumble home from.) Have to get the videos back first. But after that, why not? Tried looking up suicide helplines in the phone book. Couldn't find any. Guess most people don't come on vacation to kill themselves. Found one.... Bar .... In the Beach Book. Unfortunately, it's in Ocracoke. Saw the Number Nine Buoy earlier this week. But it's not close enough to stumble home from. This would all be so very, very funny if it wasn't so tragic. You are, bar none, the biggest loser ever.
I guess I had to bottom out. I knew it was coming. I knew it was just a matter of time. Okay. Here I am. At the bottom. But I can't let anyone know because they'd freak out finding out I'm freaking out. Rage.... I don't want to have rage in my heart. I just have to give myself a break. I take chances. Sometimes they pay off. Sometimes they don't. But it's no reason to end it all. Man, I don't want to hate anyone else but isn't it better than hating me?
"In a house where regret is a carnival ride
We are spinning and spinning and spinning"
Beach - 5:15 pm
It's impossible to come to the beach and not feel better. Like things don't work out the way we want.... so??? Must be a bunch of school kids on a field trip down the beach. There sure are a lot of them. Young, maybe in the third grade or something. They keep running in and out of the surf which has to be freezing-- brrrrrr-- and screaming their heads off. The tide is coming in. The water is that color of blue/green, like Peggy's car. My favorite time of the day at the beach.
8:50 pm
Got really spooked. Took a walk up to the beach via a different route... passed the KDH bath house. Big mistake. A bunch of derelict guys were up there drinking beer at the end of the walkway. Managed to get passed them & down to the ocean without incident. It was gorgeous... the color was even prettier than earlier. No one was on the beach at all except for way off in the distance. I saw this guy walking toward me. I wasn't worried about it. Then he got closer and started talking to me (or to himself about me.) I couldn't hear or understand what he was saying. Then I really looked at him and he looked like some fucking demented Brutus or something. His tee shirt was filthy as was his face. He had a bunch of teeth missing. He was positively leering at me, grinning this shit-ass, good-old-boy grin. Probably weighed 300 pounds. Scary. He said, "I said the water must be too cold for you-- I saw you sticking your foot in then running the other way."
Momentarily I considered my options. Speak halfway normal to him then get the fuck out of there. Ignore him totally. Or tell him to get bent. Decided the first was the safest option. I kept walking though and I could tell he turned around and was following me. I didn't know if I was just being paranoid or what, but I was starting to get that feeling like someone was ripping at my throat... I took the usual access out and sure enough, he was coming up behind me. I flew out of there. Didn't stop to put my shoes on until I was across the beach road. As I walked passed the house on the corner, I noticed some locals were sitting outside. All of a sudden this dog came at me out of nowhere, between 2 parked cars. He was barking his head off. I jumped straight up in the air and said, "Jesus!"
By this time I could feel my heart beating in my chest. I got to the intersection of Memorial Drive and Oregon Street and thought, wait a minute. Do I really want to lead this maniac back to my house, where I am staying alone? So I took a right and came home via a different route, around the block and down this little road that runs parallel with the Bypass. I was walking up Oregon the other direction now. Didn't see him anywhere but it was turning dusk and I looked at all the shadows from the stilts under the houses. He could have been hiding anywhere. I came in the driveway but kept going back behind my car to the chair I had set down for protection from the sun or rain showers if we ever had any. I sat back there smoking a cigarette and trying to look all around from my own shadows, see if I spotted him anywhere. I didn't. Finally decided to go in but stopped to lock my car first and saw a white tee shirt out of the corner of my eye. It was just the Car Washers on their way back from a walk.
The phone was ringing when I came in the door and I was never so happy to talk to someone. It was Joe. He said I sounded out of breath. I didn't want to freak him out so I just said I was a little spooked.
The 7th song on the Clannad CD is playing, my favorite. The one in
Gaelic. "'S cha leigim le 'bhfuil beo thú
A stór nó 's tú mo ghrádh." So sad. Hey, I already lost it earlier
today-- I'm not going back to that place.
Guess it's time for beddie high. I'm sitting surrounded by my burning rain. Protection. Useful for me to get what I need that I can control.... respect for myself, self-love, forgiveness, forget the unpleasantness. Peace-- it's all I'm asking. Some peace of mind. Peace & quiet on the inside. Something to believe in. Think I watch some of the Robin Hood (brought 6 episodes with me)
Thursday 4/12/01 - 8 am
Something helped me sleep. Still, it seems like I wake up every five minutes. Joe told me he started smoking again since I've been gone. I begged him to go out and buy some patches.... don't undo all the good he's done. He said he would. Stiff again this morning. For being nice beds, these sure aren't helping my back. Need my waterbed I guess. Very hard to read anyone else after Brautigan. Such a master, genius, poet. Haven't used the dishwasher here since I came. Don't know why not. Silly to wash everything by hand maybe. Guess it would just take too long to fill it up and with loading & unloading, I save time washing stuff by hand.
"Methuselah lived nine hundred years
Methuselah lived nine hundred years
But who calls that livin
When no gal will give in
To no man what is nine hundred years"
Listening to Porgy & Bess always reminds me of staining the house at Majorsville and the deck. Joe and I danced on it after it was dry. We've just both changed so much. I don't know if we can find a way back to what we had. Or a new way. I'm just so damn selfish.
Beach - 10:15 am
Came out around 9:40. The birds are going crazy out in the water, dive bombing, fishing for breakfast I assume. Saw The Lone Pelican, and My Three Pelicans, and The Four Pelicans of the Apocalypse. Not as much fun to see them without Joe. The kite flying family is out. Hope they don't try & tangle me with with their strings again. I don't want to be tangled up in anyone's strings. No strings attached?? I should be walking but sitting here is so wonderful and I'm so lazy. I do seem to have chosen the prime kite flying location though. Little girls in that family are so pretty. Remind me of Lauren. I sure do miss her. This is the first morning she hasn't called. She's off school today & tomorrow.
It's been interesting being completely & utterly alone all week. Some good, some not so good. I can do anything I want except be with the people I love. Have to say this is the first day I've seen people in swimming. Still, they're all kids. Kids will swim anytime. The water is a shade of pewter this morning-- just shimmering in the sun. I love how kids do silly things like jump & scream whenever they feel like it. One of them is walking backwards, on her hands and feet, but with her belly & face pointed to the sky. She looks like an upside down crab person of some sort. Howard Stern was on E! last night. Guess he is every night. I don't think I offend easily but there's something about that guy I really don't like. First he had on a girl who wanted to take her clothes off for him, said she was an exhibitionist. That's pathetic enough but he and his group of morons proceeded to tell her how fat and ugly she was. She was just a kid, maybe 18?
One of the little girls has a boogie board that got away from her. She tumbled and I sat her and watched. Thank God she was okay but what the hell was I (not) thinking?? I'm so detached sometimes from anyone but myself. Sometimes I despise me. Sometimes?? Let's try 90% of the time. Joe tells me we lost thousands of dollars in the stock market last year (mutual funds for his retirement.) Good lord, we can't afford to be doing that. Is this really what we want to take risks with-- his retirement?? Shouldn't we be choosing something safer... bonds, money markets, savings accounts, mattresses??? I can't even think about this right now.
5:30 pm
I don't know if I would have considered swimming out and not coming back if the water had been warm. Maybe. Guess I should be thankful it's been ice water all week. I'm back at the house. Washed the sand & salt off my body & hair. I'm not going to lie. The prospect of another day & 1/2 by myself isn't thrilling me. It could unravel me altogether-- what little there is left of my personality that is still cohesive. At least I brought Bruce Springsteen, Joni Mitchell, Janis Ian, Laura Nyro, Stevie Winwood, and the Beatles... and Richard Brautigan but of course I'm done with his sad tale. My big epiphany.... I need professional help. I'm just not in the same fucking universe that every one else is in. Never have been. Never will be. I really resent that Gledi has more or less written me off. What am I supposed to do now???
10:10 pm
Okay. I'm back. Just fell into the abyss for a short bit, a little while. Too long. Any amount of time spent down there is too long. Joe called. Said he hoped I had a better night and that I should go up to the ocean and stick my feet in it. Think I'll wait until morning though. This one tonight was a particularly bad one though. They've been building in intensity all week. Tomorrow is my last day. Saturday doesn't count 'cause I have to leave & drive to Fredericksburg. Have to buy more drinking water-- I'm all out. I've gone through 3 gallons since I came. I don't have to ever divulge that this week wasn't totally wonderful. I'm sure I can come up with some stories for the web page. I looked for some answers but didn't find many. Wanted to be saved. Wanted someone or something to change my face-- Timer or whatever. I can't seem to find my way out of the maze... the dark, seemingly endless abyss. Drugs don't fix it. Can't say I've had much luck with the truth. Can't say I've seen much help from God (sorry Kathy.) Bottom line-- I have to learn to love me. I don't know how to do that. I need lessons. I have to start accepting reality even when it bites (all the time.)
"You were looking to hurt
I was hurting to love"
It certainly appears that way. I can't play this game any more. I despise the game. I need some tylenol. Just took my last two. Tylenol and drinking water. They'll have to wait until morning. The things that can't wait are learning how to accept myself. I'm not some hideous monster, despite what some people might think. Okay, I'm not some sweet, funny, gentle wonderful person all the time. Who is???
Friday the 13th, 8:00 am - Good Friday although I've never understood why they call it that. It wasn't good.
But hope springs eternal. I wake up from a dream that was nice. One I concocted for myself I guess to make me feel better. I'm touched by my own sweet nature... so good of you to care. I'm also appalled by the incredibly powerful delusions I invent. I can't fight me. I'm so tired of trying. The War between my Brain and my emotions-- and as in all wars, innocent people are being hurt (me for one.) Another dream I had wasn't so pleasant. Guess who came back from the dead?! Again. Every friggin night. Why don't they give me a break???
Only I would come on vacation with Slim Fast & rice cakes & soup & pretzels and end up overeating. My back threatened to go out all week but he never did. (Won't look too good on his resume-- can't follow through.)
Okay, I have dreams and innocence (ignorance) and determination. I have compassion. I defend those I love. I try to give everyone limitless chances. Always wondered which albums I'd take for all eternity if I could only take a handful.... no surprises, the Beach Boys, The Beatles, Counting Crows, Clannad, Buffalo Springfield, Crosby Stills Nash & Young, the Moody Blues, Bach, Debussy, Gershwin, BB King, Smokey Robinson, Marvin Gaye... Not a bad assortment.
We all takes our chances. Sometimes they pay off and sometimes they don't. Sometimes we don't know which has occurred until much later, looking back in retrospect.
I forgot the person/ thing/ place I most wanted to get away from was me. Hard to do.
There's a perfect blue building one street over. I can see the back of it through a rare, empty lot across the street from me. Not really empty, guess one of the houses over there has a double lot. I've been surrounded by ways to do it all week.... the sea, pills, knives, cords. For whatever reason, I chose not to abuse them.
Am I a child of God? Are we all? Is there a limit some people will go to to find love? Is there a limit others will go to to avoid it? Haven't I just exchanged one set of questions with some others? I'll go home with as many as ever, some old, some new.
We can't make someone share a dream. Some people find me lovable, others don't. Some want to know me better, others don't. Some I'll see again, others I won't. Some feel obligated, others don't. All I know is I don't know anything except I require love. I'm a high maintenance kind of person. My mind never shuts off. It's always trying to fit all the pieces together.
"We have all been here before"
Did I tell you about this greeting card with this dog that's smelling around his back yard. He has a bubble coming up from his head saying, "I know I was here before" and the caption reads "Deja Poo"
I'm a cause & effect believer. I cause so many things to go wrong but I can't take credit for anything that goes right. I came to this paradise, found the perfect house beside the perfect sea, brought perfect candles, music. Just don't be drinking anything today... can't.... too scary when I'm alone like this.
(The following was written on an outline of my hand, something silly I do in my journal every once in awhile...)
My hand on this last Friday, this Good Friday, this Friday the 13th-- isn't that just right. The perfect day to end this perfectly lonely week. I can dream and wish all I want but it's not going to make me beautiful. Hey, what can I say. It's a gift I have or a curse, sometimes bringing out the cruel in the nicest people. It's raining outside. First time all week. It's been a typhoon inside my head just about every day and every night... mass destruction, fatalities, total devastation. No one is going to declare me a state of emergency. No red or other color cross is coming in with supplies and aid for the survivors.
"Go on, be a hero, be a man
Make your own destiny if you can
Go find a fence, locate a shell
And hide yourself
Go on, go to hell, go away from me
I need no charity"
Janis Ian has such a gift... says things in a way no one else can, in a way I wish I could.
Soon it'll be time to pack it all up. Go back inland, from whence I came. A little bit more bruised thane when I first got here. It'll be okay. Life is so cruel and we're all alone living on our own little islands, subject to the tides and typhoons. The only thing we know is someday we're gonna die. Christians tell me Christ died on the cross for my sins. And that by doing so, He washed me clean and saved my soul. I'm not worth it. I live in a selfish, altruistic planet, all me, all the time. Is that what I need to say? Okay, I've committed the worst mistake, the biggest sin, the vilest of the vile. Is my soul eternally damned because of it? I'm stuck in this barren, dark place where light cannot survive and the heat from my sins burns on over & over & over again. I'm dead at 47, have been for a couple of years now. A phantom left on the outside of life and laughter, joy and peace. Is my fate sealed?? Will I always remain here? I'm just some lost phantom who cannot find what I've had and lost. Point made. Game over. You win. I lose. All in the name of love and my inability to distinguish between what's real and what's not.
Time to fix the painting. Ok. Ripped it up and threw it out. Best fix I can think of at the moment.
I'm Irish Catholic-- that probably determined my fate from conception. Our capacity for guilt, pain, woe, damnation is limitless. If the Jews are the chosen people, the Irish Catholic are the damned. Am I evil? The one to beware? The kind mothers try to protect their children from? Is that my calling, my destiny, only I keep denying it, believing it'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay???
2:45 pm
Bought water & cigarettes. Oh yeah, almost forgot. After I sat through Howard Stern insulting the "fat chick" as he kept calling her, the next episode that came on was the one with the guy who was a human taxidermist. He supposedly had stuffed his daughter when she died. Honest to God, it was the lowest level of depravity. I had to turn it off.
I'm in a beautiful place. I have a beautiful family. I see beauty everywhere, all around me except when I look within. The goodness and beauty appear to end at the beginning of my boundaries.
Okay, I've gotten rid of the stupid, asinine book. It's gone. And the journals-- I'm going home and getting rid of them and purging myself of the copies of the book and my web stuff. Just let it go. It doesn't help, probably helps perpetuate this pathetic existence. There are no dreams that are real except for nightmares. There is no love here. Not in me. Not me. Not me. Not me........
That really wasn't easy. Not when it happened and not now, reliving it. I don't know why I am so crazy or how to fix me. I thought being alone would make things clearer but instead it nearly destroyed me. I fished my book back out of the garbage. And I didn't throw any of the journals away but the jury is still out on whether keeping them does any good.
I really feel bad about letting myself get so out of control down there. I took a perfectly wonderful opportunity and ruined it.
I'm not sorry I went but I wish I could do it over and this time, get it right. Enjoy myself more and stop with the damn guilt. But then isn't that's what I always wish for... another chance?
