plus i have this whole new family
and i’m in love with each of them
and i’m on this list called lucky
whenever i’m in reach of them
and i’m learning how to say
that i’d be happy either way
with your love

i’ve been feeling uncharacteristly comfortable in my skin lately. i’m not sure what it is, but maybe all this reading, positive thinking, and guided meditation is doing something.

maybe i’m slowly putting on a brand new “couldn’t give a damn either way” sweater for the season. i’ll be optimistic and i’m going to say i’m happy.

how could i not be, really? dub just skidded into the room with frank and launched him at the wall. i washed my comforter and shams then put fresh sheets on the bed. to me, clean sheets is about as close to heaven as it gets.

saturday i was irritated with ticketmaster and the bank. when i’m pissed off, my voice flattens out, losing it’s normal 12 year old lilt that hugo finds so endearing. he called me, unfortunately, during the height of my moment of aggravation and we got into a bit of an arguement. i don’t know if what we have could even be called arguements. it’s more like our pain bodies try to strangle the living shit out of the other until we realize that we’re wasting our time and apologize.

people are confused sometimes about my relationship with hugo. our love is a very private thing to us; it can be shy and it can be cranked up to 4000 degrees. our love isn’t the typical love you see onscreen, but we are highly compatible. for instance, we each like our own space. it used to hurt me when he would ask me to sleep in my room, because i didn’t understand what he was asking. now, i happily close the door and trot down the hallway because we can give eachother something very important: peaceful solitude.

our lives are very hectic. he hugged me in the hallway the other night when we were both getting ready for bed. “i love our crazy house.” i love it too.

i get frustrated sometimes because he won’t “let me do things” and 90% of the time it’s really for my own damn good. painting walls, for instance, takes a lot more thought than i was willing to give it that one day. if he hadn’t said “not to my house, you don’t,” that day, we’d have a hideous hall bathroom to add to our list of reasons we will never be able to sell this house. i really have a great deal of freedom here as long as i keep up my end of the deal. i do the laundry. i do my work. i vacuum the floor. i bathe the dog. i do a million things that wouldn’t get done if i didn’t do them and it makes me feel good to do them…most days.

some days i am so pissed off that i’d rather set fire to all the beds than make them. why am i pissed? i don’t know. i’m still trying to figure these things out. i am sometimes a very messy person and by messy i mean cluttered. there is a part of my brain that loves to see my makeup scattered on my countertop. i’ll stare at it and love the way the light plays off of my eyelash curler. i leave change all over the place. i stack jewelry on my dresser in piles. it makes me happy to stare my world and think back on times during my childhood when i felt everything was so uninteresting and bask in how wrong i was.

this is just my side of the story and an edited for late night cable tv version of it, at that. you shouldn’t make a judgement call on my state of mind or situation from what i tell you at any given moment. you can’t take anything i say as the gospel of bug because i change my mind constantly and i’m proud of that. i can be fluid and i can admit when i’m wrong. i can be nauseatingly dramatic at times. i can also slam the door shut on my emotions and be objective.

i used to worry when i was in high school that i wasn’t good at anything. i didn’t play sports, sucked at math, mediocre at my artistic endeavors… the only thing i could ever think that i was good at was being me and that wasn’t good enough. it’s taken nearly 10 years for me to realize that it is perfectly ok to just kick ass at being who you are and to realize that who you are isn’t going to be the same thing 5 minutes from now. my cells will have changed. i’ll have different thoughts, maybe changed my mind about something.

when i say “being me,” you’re either going to get that one or you aren’t. that doesn’t mean i think i’m perfect. it means i know i’m not and i’m still ok with it, i guess, and that i’m in love with the good and the bad. i’m learning to be ok with what has brought me here..and really look where i am. it’s honestly amazing. i have a high school diploma and i have my absolute dream job that i fell right into because i talked to certain people that i resonate with.

if you talk to me and i complain about hugo or my job or anything, it’s not because i don’t think it’s all absolutely amazing, it is because at that exact moment, i’m stuck in an ideal that i’ve attached myself to and my ego doesn’t want to let it go, no matter how good or bad it may be for me. if our house burned down, i would be devastated because oh god all my things and EEK! it wouldn’t last forever though, i’d let go of it all because i would have no choice.

the trick, i’m finding, is to relinquish the attachment ahead of time to reduce your suffering. it’s hard for me to think that hugo may leave me with 20 to 40 years of my life without him in it. that is a hard attachment to overcome. i’d be homeless with him. i’d go through any hardship. none of this (house, cars, jobs, money, anything) matters to me more than him, but that won’t change the fact that one day he’s going to leave me. maybe we’ll get lucky and die in a horrible 29 car pile up one day…or perhaps a gas leak will blow the lid off this place, sending our posessions and body parts flaming into the night sky.

this feels like a good place to end. just remember, if you should happen to find yourself on the business end of a rant from me one day, please see that i’m just telling a story to tell it, and that is all.

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