The Drama Starts Here

I feel it happens in every group.  Families.  Work places.  And with tight groups of friends.  I’ve definitely had enough trouble with the first two groups but it’s this last one that bothers me the most.  As a rule I try to live my life with the least amount of drama as I can.  Granted I like causing trouble and on a regular basis “solemnly swear that I am up to no good” but these are events are isolated to specific nights or places.  This drama crap of “he said” and “she said” puts me on an aggressive edge like nothing else can.  I have to deal with some crap on the regular that what I don’t want from the family I chose is to deal with more gossip.

It’s followed me for some time now.  It must go hand in hand with that fact that I think I release some pheromone that makes people want to take care of me.  Some big, doe-eyed, helpless feeling I release.  I don’t know how people get that urge and yet somehow think that I’m some kind of whore. . . anyway.  Even back in college I felt people needed to meddle in my affairs for my own good.  Would try to help by talking to other people on my behalf, about things I didn’t care about, didn’t know about, or could very well take care of myself.  Please, if I want someone to know how I feel about them, I’ll tell them.  I really don’t need other people to take others aside and talk to them for me.  I have quite the command over this language and am familiar with enough of others that I can quite competently take care of that myself.  So ya, people feel the need to gossip about me, to me, and meddle in my personal affairs.  Even if its really just my business, and more importantly they probably don’t know how I really feel about the person/situation.  Trust me not many if any rarely do.

With that said, I am a far too trusting person.  So, if someone comes to me with a “s/he said” I most likely will believe them and will go to that person trying to stop the situation or clear things up.  I hold grudges for sure, but I also like to solve problems.  But if its not true, well that causes trouble too.  That’s really why I hate busy bodies and people who feel they need to meddle in my affairs.  Trust me I probably don’t need your help and unless I have asked you to talk to someone don’t want it. 

I’ve rolled my eyes too much today and I haven’t even gotten to rehearsal.  Kyrie eleison.

But I don't wanna

I don’t know what to do. Literally and figuratively.  The weight of some upcoming responsibilities is a lot to deal with and though I should work on them and take care of what I can I don’t know how to approach them nor where to start.  So I sit here.  Wondering.  Wondering and very restless.  I wonder what I used to do on the internet that occupied so much of my time in college, and no it wasn’t “that”.  These impending responsibilities were brought up in a conversation with close friend and he didn’t realize the full extent of what’s going on.  Not many really do.  I feel like I’m going on and I don’t have a safety net.  Yet, I go on unerringly so much so that nobody realizes the tumultuous condition my mind is in. 

I’m actually getting a lot of flack from the director of the show I’m currently doing.  She’s trying to strip away my persona or façade so my character can show emotions.  Granted I think this is the complete opposite of my character would do, but it’s her show so whatever.  Talk about breaking out of comfort zones though.  I mean this woman is determined.  I found it funny that my character has trouble saying "I love you". I had a private little smirk about that.  

So cautious and weary about what to do and which direction I go, I sit here.  My psychologist (not really but a friends and a crush who is one) would be rather disappointed in me.  He’d give me some advice about just getting up and doing it or go exercise or something.  Speaking of, I’ve been on a no sugar/carbs diet for the last week and a half.  Though it works, I’m tired of that crap.  I just want a burrito or some pizza.  And you order less and usually have to pay for more.  Explain that one to me please.

I’ve gotten quite bored trolling FB so we’ll see what I bring myself to do.  I did download some music of one of my favorite . . . dj’s earlier.  He remixes music and I think he’s brilliant.  I’m pretty my plan will involve “acquiring” some foreign language software and hiding in a linguistic paradise of French, Russian and revisiting an old friend of Japanese.  Yes, that plan sounds best. 

I’ll leave with this treat.  One of my favorite songs of that aforementioned artist: 

 post script: Replaced my toothbrush.  a favorite feeling for sure is using a new toothbrush.

It's always a lot bit worse in the Irish. . .

My grandmother is an incredible woman. If you know me in real life than I'm sure you've heard a few stories even. She definitely has created legacy and a wealth of stories for herself that is sometimes hard to believe.

Now, these are just some recollections that I remember and they are far from all that should be said of her.  That'd probably be a whole other blog.  Besides this blog is about me.

My grandmother is first off fresh of the boat from Scotland, in fact she did a lot of her schooling there and I guess her mother we take here back and forth quite a bit.  That isn't too crazy in and of itself but it's part of a funny story after she met my grandfather and in several letters was trying to explain him to her parents.  See my grandfather's name was Benjamin and so her parents thought he was Jewish since only Jewish people named their children Benjamin. So my grandmother explained that he wasn't Jewish and that he was from Oklahoma. Well, her parents took out a map and saw that that was Indian territory so they thought he was an Indian. Well, that was corrected and my grandmother informed them that he was Irish. Well! Her mother replied (and this part of the story was salways in a thick Scottish accent so you'll just have to go with me) "there's good and bad in envy one, but it's always a lot bit worse in the Irish!"

That story just starts it all. She would tell me about how they rode elephant back thru the jungle with a veterinarian to perform surgery on another elephant and how halfway thru the trip they took off their shoes as to not scare away the wild tigers they'd baited. Also that to get thru the elephants skin for the surgery how they had to use saws.  "It was such a great experience you'd really have to do it if you have the opportunity."

She was also one of the first women into Cambodia after the genocide anyhow they were made to take tours of schools and hospitals turned into torture chambers.  That was also after her time in the Red Cross where she worked with Bob (Bob Hope) as an emcee. That's where she actually met my grandfather. That story was usually coupled with some jitterbug choreography and a rendition of "Let Me Entertain You".  In the den was always a map with tacks of all the places where her and my grandfather lived in their fifty odd moves.  All continents covered by the way except Antarctica which doesn't have too many people to minister to. One of those places being Saudia Arabia. That's where they would have to avoid people of fridays else they'd be invited to the public executions.

Again, these are just the stories I remember off the top of my head.  My grandmother is an incredible person.  Full of strength, conviction, ideals, so many positive characteristics.  And just another person in my ridiculous family.  If I achieve or experience a fraction of what she has in her life I will consider myself lucky and satisfied. I'm grateful to have such a person to model myself after.

The next part is the hard part.  My grandma's health has started to decline.  After having this strong person for the last quarter of a century of my life to look up to its hard to see her to made human. To be made mortal.  She's a hero of mine.  My whole perspective has been made extremely finite. I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make.  That this incredible woman's experiences may only be recoded in this blog? That besides her adventures she invested in four sons, fourteen grandchildren and I think at this point three great grandchildren (a cousin moved to Texas ,not my fault).  If that's what we're counting my legacy tally is: one dog. Her and some highly loved friends. Reflecting on my grandmother makes me dwell or mortality... Ugh.

Go back and read a funny post.

Let Me Entertain You

Some nights.

Turns out there is a term for my condition.  I have Philophobia.  It is the fear of falling in love or being loved.  I’m not sure I have the actual phobia, but as people in my life can contest, it’s pretty close if not full fledged.  I can’t even sing the word love correctly I guess as the jerk musical director told me about a million times.  Which makes it unfortunate that I’m in a show called Triumph of Love.  Exactly. 

I also met with an astrological therapist.  Didn’t realize there were such things but there are and one happens to be good friends with my asshole uncle; who arranged the meeting for figure out “what’s wrong with me”.  Thanks Unc.  Yeah, my Christian family, my uncle is good friends with an astrological therapist and got chart readings on my cousins as soon as they were born.  Right. . . Anyway, the important thing is that this guy told me that in order to move on to my next life the lesson I need to learn is to separate myself from the “I” and move on to the “We”.  So I guess I’ll be repeating this life until I’m able to commit to a relationship and join fully with a partner. Great.  Well, at least I got a second opinion and know that I’m not just crazy.  I feel it legitimizes my commitment issues.  If you don’t, I don’t care.

 I had a dream the other day with two of my last ex’s in it.  Talk about waking up with weird feelings.  I’m not sure entirely how I feel about it.  Definitely woke up with a queasy feeling in my gut.  Gut. . . don’t like that word.  But I would really like to know what my psyche is trying to tell me.  I still have weird anxiety over the other ex and weird jealous protective feelings over the last one.  Which wants me to commit again and my brain turns into some tornado of conflictions. 

I hope the next life lesson I have to learn is easier.  If I ever make it.

Other news: I’ve decided to go back to school for foreign language.  Maybe join the military as a translator or something.  I don’t know.  Just languages.  Russian.  Chinese.  Norwegian. 

“Who the fuck wants to die alone?”

Some nights.