Random theater — Admission: 1

Good grief, how long has it been since I’ve posted? Days? The only times I’ve gotten so behind in chronicling my personal iniquities have been when I dropped the webhost from hell in favor of DreamHost and/or when I’ve gone on trips and was without Internet access.

Behold the rotted fruits of nearly a week without blogging. …


Incidentally, my webhost from hell canceled my webhosting account as soon as the asshole who they haven’t fired yet even though he spewed hate in several blog comments, including mine, read on this blog that I was trying out DreamHost. Last I checked, I was paid up through a certain date and not to mention, but I was also given a nice credit (nearly a year’s worth of hosting costs) for my trouble with that asshole. I didn’t cancel the account because I was still deciding on the new host, which luckily I have grown to love. But still. I still think Qwk.Net made a lot of mistakes in its customer relations, but my little opinion isn’t going to take down the company. They’ll get theirs — I’m not worried. I just have better outlets for my energy. But if I remember right, they yanked the plug on my account Jan. 31 and I would swear I was paid up (not on a credit) till Feb. 9.


Unrelated, I’ve been a-travelin’. I spent Saturday in Virginia and Sunday in Pennsylvania. I realized how much I like driving back to D.C. from old Pee-Ay now that I don’t have to go the extra handful of miles into the Dominion State. It’s a shift in mindset, really. I know that when it says D.C. is 74 miles from whatever sign I happen to pass, I know that I live 74 miles from that spot and not an additional four miles on this highway and 11 miles on that interstate. Jeez, the MATH I no longer have to do! It’s magnificent!


I was watching “Grey’s Anatomy” last night and as usual saw myself in it everywhere. When Finn asked Meredith if she’s scary or damaged, and she didn’t want to admit to being either, I was so there. I don’t even bother pretending to be sunny, happy and fine anymore. I did for awhile, but I think everyone saw through me.

I don’t want to indicate that I’m a cyclone of destruction and despair, though. I’m generally an easygoing person. Just one with a lot of stuff that sort of overshadows that general calm nature, so there’s the damage talking. I don’t want anyone to think I could shatter under the slightest unwanted amount of pressure — I thrive under any and all circumstances. But I am also not good at pretending I’m not working through something, because it seems like I am … all the freakin’ time.


I need help, people. Not in the form of therapy or anything like that (well, not right at the moment), but some days I don’t know if I’m strong enough to shoulder what seems like two complete, distinctly separate selves. I need structure and I rebel against it. I need guidance but rail against too much of it. I need somebody, anybody to just reach out their arms and hold me still for a moment, but I will push hard to prevent it from happening. Too hard, unfortunately. I’ve gotten too good at my own game. Because now that I feel isolated, I don’t know where to reach out first and if anything will be there to meet me halfway. I don’t know whether I’d hurt more from trying and failing or looking back in lonely retrospect.

I want to shine and I don’t want to be seen, all at the same time. I want a happy medium but that means mediocrity and I can’t stand the thought of that, either. I feel like time and I aren’t exactly on the same side — that I’ve had to pay some retroactive dues. That my damage has impeded me from sprinting even though the dues have been paid in full, time and again. That maybe I’m not injured at all but rather that I’ve voluntarily plopped myself on the sidelines and done everything I can to be a wallflower when I’m really everything but.


I just found a Valentine’s Day card that I must have bought years ago and thought better of sending, as it’s still blank and the envelope is unaddressed. Funny, how we buy cards and either forget about them (which explains the stack of birthday cards in the house — I should donate them to the office for departmental birthday emergencies because so freakin’ many of us are born in May/June) or we decide the recipient in our mind should never receive said card.

The one I came across noted, “I wish we could be together today, tomorrow and the day after that. I wish we could stretch minutes into hours, and hours into days, and that we could have as much time as we wanted to lose ourselves in each other. I wish we were side-by-side where we belong.”

Yeesh. Seriously, WTF? I ever felt that way about anyone? Seriously? No wonder I never sent the damn card — I probably re-read it and wondered who had shoved it into my bag because it couldn’t POSSIBLY have been something I voluntarily read, selected and paid for.

On the other hand, maybe I would have sent it if I had ever felt that there existed the green light to put a stamp on it.

Funny how I can’t throw it away, even though at this point, the only way I’d send it to someone is blank so that THEY could send it to someone else.

Or maybe I will just continue to revel in the irony of it all. I guess I never got what I wanted. But that needs to change, and now.

5 Responses to Random theater — Admission: 1

  1. trouble :

    You know, the chef has a phrase for us damaged girls…he calls us scary sad girls. For a long time, I resisted that label. But the difference between you, and me, and the REAL scary sad girls is that we are self-aware enough to know that we have these broken f-ed up places, and we’re working on them. We’re trying to heal. The true scary damaged girl isn’t interested in healing, she hasn’t even gotten to the point of knowing she has issues to work on.

    You aren’t scary, you’re just normal…conflicted, desperately wanting things, hurt in the past, but brave and hopeful. I admire you for that.

  2. Mel :

    Like trouble said… normal. And self-aware. That is the important part. What to do now? I dunno. If you figure it out before I do, let me know.

  3. Sabre :

    Pfft. If you are damaged, I’m a fucking catastrophe 🙂

    But hey, that’s what makes us good at a party!

  4. Erica :

    I’ve found cards stashed away that I bought “just because” and then never gave to the intended recipient. It can be either really funny, or really sad. I actually found one the other day and told the intended recipient about it. She suggested I save it for someone else. Which of course I can’t do because the card makes me think of her. But I ended up giving it to her anyway.

  5. Steven Cole :

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