Here I am and you're a rocket queen

Wahhhhhh.......

Okay, party Saturday night. Got there really late but it was still cool. Borrowed a Snow White dress from my workout partner's mom (!) and attended the pimp n' ho party as "Ho White". My WP was, of course, my Pimp Charming. Yes, it kind of makes me cringe too but it was fun. I was amazed. There was someone there I almost always get into it with whenever we see each other due to a botched dating experience from about 3 or 4 years ago and he was behaving himself. Maybe we do mature. Or he looked at my workout partner's upper arms. Either way, drama averted.

Sunday night was Karaoke with the Damned. Even though I currently sound like Tom Waits, I went anyway to do a little Tom Jones and Roy Orbison. Not my usual get up in front of people and holler stuff, but hey. Didn't feel real good. My stomach was bothering me and my once monthly moodiness was flaring up so we left a little early and drove around. I requested to go to Alki Beach which I feel is the only place to go when in certain raging moods at early hours of the morning when the tide's coming in fast and furious, the wind's blowing and nobody's around.

I discovered platform boots are not the best for sand but not as bad as spike heels and the walk did me some good. I threw a bunch of rocks in the water and felt better.

Still feeling funky. I don't expect it to pass for a few more days. Just have to hang on until then.

Screwing Myself Over

I can't stay in my head too much longer. I've been quite depressed even though things are not necessarily going bad. Except for the usual problem of finances and joblessness and my feelings of being a bit on the worthle$$ side. I'm also living in a much calmer environment which is forcing me to detox from my chaotic previous lifestyle.

If it wasn't for all the fears and doubts and memories and nightmares and not having much to do except stew in my self-loathing, I'd say I was living a pretty normal lifestyle.

Renton, where I've relocated, really isn't that bad. It feels kind of nice to not be living in the hub of activity anymore. It even has nice watery parks to walk around in. People I know in the city have said it sucked and I just kind of took their word for it. But I'm glad to be out of Seattle. Still hanging out at the club and visiting friends and going to things in Seattle, but not sleeping there. Living in a house. I haven't lived in a house since 1997. A yard, big dogs, sick roommates. Not a studio apartment 3 floors up without even a balcony. A barbecue grill. Suburban like. With a good guy, not a nice guy, not a dipshit suicide drama queen or a control-freak issue-laden husband. Space.

And, while my original plan after splitting with suicide boy was to remain a lone tenant, I think that's not really what I want. Gets a bit lonely and expensive, especially when jobs are difficult.

I started the job search again just in time to get sick and have Sprint PCS turn my phone off even though I was only 2 weeks late with the bill. Suck my balls Sprint. I'm attempting to realign myself with 12-step groups (again) even though I still feel some kind of age old shame about the whole thing. I need all the help I can get and I'll get relief anywhere I can find it because my periodic alcoholic medicating ain't doing shit for my peace of mind.

I'm transitioning out of an industry I havent been out of any longer than 10 weeks out of the last 6 years only because I was busy giving birth and recovering from a difficult delivery. Even when I had a "normal job" I had the sideline poisonous adult entertainment crap going on. It's no good for me anymore. It's been in the process of evicting me for the last year or two. I'd kind of like to keep my sexuality a bit on the private side now.

I'm finally starting to feel my age instead of 10 years older like I have been. Takes a lot of pressure off to be crazy overacheiver superwoman. I was only kidding myself anyway.

I just don't know what to do with myself now that things have changed. There's a certain humility that goes along with being taken care of but I really, really, really, needed it. I've been driving myself into the ground trying to take care of things myself. But fuck, I'm a mess. Being allowed to rest and get my head together is really valuable. You can't hear yourself screaming from the inside when 10,000 things are screaming at you from the outside.

I think I'm a bit damaged but not irreparably so. It's just hard.

Filling out a job application when you know you have to lie and stretch your story out a bit sucks. I have a lot of anxiety around that. There's a lot of things I'm capable of doing but feeling like I'm worth anyone's time to hire me and then convincing them is the difficult part. I feel like I missed a fundamental lesson everybody else knows just because I've been a bit unconventional. Then the fear that if anyone ever found out certain things it would completely destroy the way they view me. I forget sometimes that some of the things I got used to would shock some of the general populace. Other freaks know what I mean, but sometimes, even knowing that I'm not the only one doesn't help that much.