I'm here. I'm back. I'm in Los Angeles. My everything is every where.
I arrived home last night, ragged, after Ruby, my pug... well, peed all over herself in her dog bag on the plane, and me, feeling like a rotten mother for having stuffed her in said dog bag, which is a wholly unnatural state, pulled her soaking wet self out and let her sit on my lap.
For two hours.
So I came home, 11pm, reeking of urine but feeling actually, quite victorious as, again, having dog mother guilt and not wanting to make my other dog fly in cargo, I snuck him on the plane. And got away with it. Like a lunatic.
I mean, I had my sister drive me an hour and a half to the airport so I could fly direct but I still had no idea if I was ever, ever going to get away with sneaking my little 11 pound fluff ball on the plane.
Only I did. It's a really long story why it came down to that - a huge terrible mix up that the only way little fluff ball was going to fly is if I stuck him in a cage and he connected through 2 hubs over a period of 12 hours. Sorry, not going to happen. I was willing to risk getting caught and be booted off the plane for this.
I was prepared with lies.
Why would I not put my 2nd carry-on bag in the overhead bin? I couldn't say, "Because it contains a second dog." I'd get booted. Off the plane. So I figured I say...
"It contains my mother's ashes. I need them... on my lap."
OMG. I am ready for someone to do some deep psychoanalysis on that.
I didn't care. It was my sweet innocent dog and I felt bad enough for dragging him on a 6 hour flight - I wasn't about to put him on a 12 hour one.
But it worked out. He's fine, I'm fine, the pug is fine. The urine soaked pants, they will be fine.
My everything is every where.
Seriously, boxes, in my apartment, every where. Some of the girl, who sublet here, her stuff, every where. Weird things are missing, things that are needed can't be found, (towels? pots? pans? where are the cereal bowls? ugh.)
Whatever. She left a half a box of tampons and since my car won't start because it hasn't been drive in 9 months, I find myself eternally grateful to her even if she did hijack my favorite Isaac Mizrahi for Target cereal bowls. (She did leave a bag of marshmallows, which ya know, with the period and all, was kind of nice.)
I need to laugh or I will cry. The thing is, I don't know where I belong. And I hate that. I want answers! I know they are within me or is that just blah blah bad movie writing. What if they aren't in me? What if I just don't know? I know what I want for a career but I do question if it comes at a price of not being happy where I live.
My sister said to me, "Leap and the net will come." Will it? And where am I leaping? I don't even know.
I know some decisions have to be made. But I knew today was not the day to make them. My body is on another time zone. We were all up at 5:00am feeling hung over tired and exhausted.
I stole a banana from the 7-11 because I was frustrated that the line was moving too slow so obviously, I should not be making really important decisions today.
I STOLE A BANANA.
I mean, I'm ready to go to jail for shop lifting a $.69 cent banana so obviously I have hit my lunatic wall and need to clam down and reassess some things before any big decisions are made.
So I stared at the ceiling fan for a long ass time today. My eyes started to well-up and I thought, "I feel as lost as after David died." It wasn't even David dying. Not that alone. It was losing my job and my boyfriend and my Mom getting sick and having to go back home, all in such a short amount of time.
I felt lost.
I feel lost.
I'm armed with the tools now, though. I can journal and I can f'ing go to therapy and I can even get on some good drugs, I can do my adventures but the fact is -- and I'm just going to be honest -- and I am willing to look like a total bitch or even worse, a big fat baby -- but the fact is --
I DON'T WANT TO.
I don't want to.
I don't want to work hard on myself or figure things out or talk to anybody about this or delve into things or feel things or anything.
And that's what freaks me out. Because I do know NOTHING will change if I do nothing.
F-word. (I say F-word to be considerate of those who might not want me to use the F-word, just know, I am feeling the F-word in its entirety and not just its abbreviated polite spelling).
Fuck.
Anyway. That is all I have for you. OH, THERE WILL BE MORE. If you're new and it seems like there are so many more of you, who are, it'll be like starting over with me at the beginning.
F-word.
Here we go again... I guess...
(PS, I set up the alerts so I will be emailed if you comment. Please know, I always, always read your comments and now with the alerts, I'll be able to respond faster. Thank you so much. They always do mean the world to me.)
