NIGHTMARE

I had a terrible nightamre last night and I woke up balling someone out & crying after I finally found my baby.


A dark, wet house, with half the roof blown off. Broken wood, the outside is coming in. We're huddling in a corner watching the storm through the top. I decide that I need to gather some stuff up in case we need to rough the elements and abandon this house. Sonny is off somewhere in the nether regions with the baby. And I start grabbing provisions... boots, jackets, anything to shield from the terrible thing that is happening outside.

I put everything into a pile and look for my husband. He's there, but not with Sophia. Panic. Panic so strong. I'm looking out the top of the house... and I start to see a red light. I can't quite make it out.
All of a sudden, the roof comes off and there are these mangy looking freaks looking at us. A mother, who isn't quite my mother endears to us. The other two are just looking off sideways, cross eyed. They are the ones responsible for this sham. This sham to take my baby.

How elaborate. To fake a storm and a house that is falling over. Once the cover is off....squalor, this home, if you could call it a home is rotten to the core.

I can't quite get any words out. My intensity, my panic is enough to convince this woman to drive me somewhere. She stops the car and there is a crowd of mangies, in a swamp. Crooked people, dogs, kids, all playing around in about two feet of water all around the car. I get out and immediately push my way to the back. It smells of rotten flesh.

Toward the back of this hillbilly gathering there is a tent. Old men are manning the tent. I push further in and find babies. Babies with bad complexions... I look into each one's face. Finally, in the very back is Sophia... in her easter dress. Relief. Anger. Shock. Panic. As I wake up I remember screaming... I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT YOU'RE DOING... YOU FUCKING FREAKS! And sobbing. And Sonny waking up to console me.

Easter Bunny

We're going to my Mom's tonight... Poor Sonny, staying at the Mom-in-Laws...
We rented a bunny suit for him. He's going to be the Easter bunny for Sophia's first Easter.... The perfect part for him to play!

You should see it, it's fucking hilarious! I'll post pictures after the weekend....

Then it's off to Dad-in-laws to have easter brunch on Sunday.

I'm contemplating going Catholic Sunday morning... I can't help it.... I love the service so much in a cathedral. It's so beautiful on Easter Sunday especially...
There's something about Father Kavanaugh's voice that drones on... I love it. It makes me feel like a good little girl. If only for the one time a year I do go.

Last year I went with my Grandfather, Grandpa Red... It was the first time in a good number of years for him.. but he didn't want to talk to the priest for some reason.
I think my Grandpa is so old that he thinks he's wasting everyone's time just being here. It makes me want to cry. I saw this lady & her father walking out of the doctor's office the other day and I did, I sobbed all the way home. We used to go around taking little old man baby steps... grocery shopping, the ice cream shop, the barber shop, all in the old 65 ford pickup I have... Even out for a martini... those were the days!

He's still around. But he's in the valley now with my retired Aunt. We are going to go down as soon as we can... I need my baby to know the best person on earth before he parts.

Happy Easter... Signing off....

3RD & T

I learned a lot from Jim. How to wash my bike... all about the Delta, how to fix my truck, how to install a transmission, how to cook some stuff, to love the things he loved. How to be, in a way, nuts. But most importantly, how to be alone. How to wait. How to relish it, revel in it, and know that no matter what, that you don't need anyone. I learned how not to go out, those people are stupid anyway, right? All my friends, my family, they're all dumb, not necessary. All I need is me... and Jim. And that's how it would have always been.

An egomaniacal, psychotic male. Who loves me. Intense and beautiful, but behind bars.

I learned how to rely on him. Only him. Learned that a little pain in the sack is great. I learned about myself, about how to make myself more like him. I grew up. I learned how to dig a great cavern in my soul, of angst, of wanting, of being unsure to the last drop. I learned how to be scared for my life if anyone ever found out..... how to have hate.....I learned that if you become impregnated by a married man, it doesn't mean that he'll do anything at all past trying to help pay for the abortion / and that's really just a maybe, because how will he explain $300 to his wife? Banking on a future that would never happen.

The greatest thing I learned of all.... was how people feel when they are in the same situation. Hindsight.... I learned that if I never would have let my morals down, I would have saved myself a lot of hurt, would have saved the whole five years from happening. Because whether I did or didn't make love to him, the outcome would have been the same. I, on the other hand, would not be the same. That fucker impacted my soul to the core, and I miss him to this day. I love him, I hate him, I think about him. But I know now, that the time we spent was all I needed. I don't need him anymore. He is inside of me... like a parent I never knew, would be. He molded me. Turned me into a perfect lover for himself... in order NOT to have me.

34th & Folsom

I live here with my man. A man I've known since the third grade, a man I've been with close to ten years.....since I was 13. Every time I think about it I want to hit him. It's been so long. It's so terribly wrong.

I never thought that I would be this kind of person, but it's so over (even though we're living together) I am going about my business behind his back. I'm in love with a man that will never be mine. I'm falling fast out of love with my high school sweetheart. He bangs me and I want to cry, I do.... I feel bad laying there, wishing I was somewhere completely different. It's a feeling I've only felt once before. When my father touched me. It's a point that your soul get's to, yes, your soul can make noise, a white noise that is so loud it drowns the world out. Your eyes see nothing but a longing to dislodge yourself from the situation.

One morning I remember particularly well.... The night before, my man had this girl over to hang out, and I was sick. I went to bed early while they sat on the porch and chatted & drank. I was seething. He finally came to bed. I figured she had left. I get up that AM & go about my business... happening upon the living room.... where she slept on the couch. Ooooooooh.... I go back to our room and give him some shit. I leave with my bike, because I'm supposed to be meeting my morning rendezvous of course..... at the coffee shop around the corner. As I lift the bike over the couch I wanted to drop it on her. Once I get to the coffee shop, I realize I have forgotten my book. I go back into the house, and they are in the couch bed together! I could have killed her / him....anyone at that moment. A few choice words and a huge door slam and it's finally over. I can finally get out of the web that I've weaved. Thanks Dave... I needed that.

I want to vomit..... it's moving out day for him, and he's holding me and weeping and crying for the past ten years. Look, could you just get out? I'm over it, really.....Finally, that last dumb knick knack he brought here is gone, his cloven hoove has left the threshhold. I'm free of one, bound to the other more strongly now.

Jim and I go for bike rides. Jim and I work on cars. Jim and I drink beer like it's going out of style. We cook like motherfuckers and have coffee in the morning, at my place. He talks and talks and talks, and I listen. I know things about people that never even heard of me. I know the stories that make up his life....and the lives of others. I can finish these stories for him. Sometimes, now, I forget that they aren't mine to tell. The more I don't hear them, don't hear that voice, they fade. The hidden psycho in Jim. He says I make him feel normal. That when he goes home he finds his wife conversing with her hand puppets. I should have known from the beginning that he would never leave her alone. But there's always that hope. Even the tiniest little shard of hope can fuel a huge love, a big, big love.

City Treasure

I'm here in this kitchen wearing a Coltraine shirt. Scrubbing and cleaning so as to impress another chef in a string of about 6 in the last year. Here he comes, with the owner. I'm not impressed. I don't even really pay attention to how he looks. In fact I'm very biased and I don't like the looks of him at all. Who knows who stays, who goes.... he's eyeing us.... and I don't care what the fuck he thinks. This is our kitchen. He's just a temporary stand in for stature. Any one of us could run this kitchen but we don't have credentials. The walls & the smell, the grease & knives are in our souls. He couldn't know any better than us how our souls work.
It's time for dinner... there's a buzz... I'm preparing the last touch to what i'm making for a fish special tonight. Sea Bass, pan seared with a savory blueberry sauce, garlic mashed potatoes and sweet green beans. $17.95 a plate. It's going to sell out of course.
I'm coming around the corner with my huge mixer of potatoes..... and the fucker has a beer. This was a time when my ego was too huge to tolerate drinking in the kitchen. I was fighting for my standing with the men / boys.... Drinking would not have helped. Anyway... he's got a god damned beer and I'm not happy about it. I tell the manager. The manager nods his head and gives him another one. What the fuck?! Men!!
We cook, it's fast and it's hot and at least his big chef ass isn't in the way of the oven like the last guy. I'll give him that. The end of the night comes around and he's telling me..."let's go have an egg, shall we?" So I go to the walk-in and grab an egg... I throw it in the pasta water that's boiling, cause I'm assuming he wants a boiled egg...
Ten minutes later he comes in and says... "where were you? I thought you were coming to have an egg with me" And I tell him... "the egg is ready"... he laughs hysterically... so hysterically that I want to kill him. Apparently, an "egg" in this chef's speak is a smoke. A cigarette.I want to crawl into the grease trap and die.
So I go smoke... he follows naturally...We stand in the parking garage and I listen to his stories. I listened to his stories for years on end. We peak through the gate at the restaurant across the street. We've both worked for them. Maria, Reda, the foreigners. We call over to them & they shout back.
I square up. Look him in the eye. And tell him that he shouldn't be drinking in the kitchen. He laughs hysterically again, and asks me if I'd like to go for a bike ride. I blush with rage and accept. "Let's go get a beer" he says. It's the beginning of a long affair.
We ride our bikes down the street, I buy a six pack at the liquor store & he follows me to my house. Where I live with my Mom. We sit on the porch and drink. Talk about all manner of things. It didn't take him long to feel up my tit's. Although at first I really didn't want to get them out. What a persuasive little man. By the end of the night we have a kiss on my Mom's couch. We talk some more, and I find out that he's a married man. And he had to go home to his wife.
I didn't take what we did very seriously. Once I found out, I assumed that it was just a small blip on our karma. I kept on with my life as it was.... kept messing around. Started drinking beer whilst I cooked...and into the night....after hours in the restaurant. Back in the parking garage one day I had a scab on my back from a random encounter with a guy... and I told him about it. Showed it to him. Told him I had to tell my boyfriend that it was a skate park injury. He looked at me queerly, as if he loved me. The furthest thing from my mind was that he would use this against me one day. He sure did though.

I Love Lenny

Cookin'

33rd & B Street

Dancing, dancing with two boys on the hardwood floor of my living room. My living room. It had only seen my feet, Olly's paws & piss & the bottom of some man's bike shoes... kitchen shoes. Who was that guy? Anyway....now we're jumping around to the beatles & waltzing. We're singing at the top of our lungs. We turn into one big drunken jumble... then someone changes the cd. Now the boys are moshing with Olly & I'm getting drunker. We're being merry.

This living room had never seen merry. This living room saw me, smoking and drinking, coffee & then beer. Saw me doing crossword puzzles instead of pouring over horse racing papers like my grandmother. Waiting. Wait, what am I doing? Isn't he coming by? If he saw this he'd never come by again. We'll, wait, I'm drunk. In my innermost regions I'm also fed up. I don't give a fuck. Yes I do.... there's a nagging inside my belly.... I care.... I don't want to "merry" away something I've waited five years for.

Waited five years to finally be merry. To finally not worry. To banish the cardinal sin from my soul. Adultery. I was in love. Adultery. I was going to have him. Adultery. I was having fun. Adultery. I was lying. Adultery. I was living without living. Adultery. I worshipped him. Adultery. I would do ANYTHING for him. Adultery. But he wouldn't let me. Adultery.

We need more beer..... we pile in the Ford.... crank up the Prince.... boogie down the road to Safeway. Park out front. It's past two AM.....One of the boys goes inside. I hit the side of a cab, get yelled at, threatened. Boy comes out with a twelve pack under his arm, hops in the truck & we speed away.

Back to the hardwood floor of my living room. Worried about getting caught... never get caught.
Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Smoke. Pass out.
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What happened? Do you wanna know what happened? Before I found myself dancing happily in my living room with my future husband, my dog, and a one Benito Jesus Garcia?