Today's weight--155.4

Eric and Charlotte just left for Lawrence and we had a sweet morning chasing around the cats and dogs. Eric is coming back to be with me on the 8th, so I won't be alone. He's worried about me. My well-being overall. I feel light headed and heavy at the same time today.

Forward--

When I was 17, I met a man outside of a bar called The Spot. I was wearing a bright colored smock type vintage babydoll dress that was wild blue and very psychedelic. It was also a maternity dress and was shaped more like a tent then a dress (well probably really, it was meant to be a shirt. And when my thin arms wouldn't fit through them, I took them off and made it sleeveless). Underneath it I had white polyester shorts that peaked out from under the hem of the dress. I wore some sort of black shiny shoe. I had black horn rimmed glasses and bright red hair that matched my lipstick. It was 1991.

I was at The Spot because it was all ages night and there were bands playing and it was across the street from my Alateen meeting that my mother forced me to go to (though years later she will admit to never being an alcoholic and just really needing friends, but till that time she dragged me around with her to meetings and picnics) every Tuesday night and the only joy of sitting through those meetings was knowing that afterwards I could go to the bar and hear music.

My friend, Tom, had a little crush on me at that time, and I was sort of interested in him too. But, he had just started dating a woman ten years older than he and I and decided that was the way to go (and he was right, they are still together today), so he introduced me to Kent, the drunk drummer of his band. Who was also had just finished school at WSU and had a degree in creative writing and wrote poetry.  We wore the same type of glasses, and had dark brown hair and big brown eyes. He was a little shorter than me, but at that time I didn't care so much about those things. He was wearing cut-offs and a green, yellow and red  tie-dyed shirt with the outline of Africa on it and penny loafers that had a hole in the left toe.

We were immediately attracted to each other and he would change my life for the worse in a matter of months, but what did I know. I was 17 and sweeter than and native.

154.6

If I were one to worry, that sudden lost of weight would worry me, but since I am in complete denial about everything right now I am overjoyed that I am losing weight.

How dare you tell me you're confused. You know two things you do not love me. You do not want this. I see no confusion in that. It seems easy enough to throw some money at me and walk away.

I know this feeling so well, this being totally alone, I am so used to it that it feels like skin.

Wednesday--157.4

Thursday--156.2

Friday--159

I just haven't felt like saying anything at all really.

Today's weight--156.8

I think I will never drink beer again. I always gain like 5 pounds after I have a few.

666 pageviews for this blog as of today before this posting.

Again today, I can't remember what I dreamed last night. I know I did in fact dream, I have some little flashes of dreams, but nothing concrete enough to write about.

The workman who is fixing the mold that has grown from the rain pouring through the roof, doesn't seem to understand that molds is bad. Or he may be lazy, watching him work is proving to me that he is probably both lazy and uneducated about some things. But, he does have a huge white cargo trunk that I am slightly jealous on because it looks like it would make a good home.

Tomorrow, is my job interview, which is where I have been putting all my energy.

And, I gave away the old church piano yesterday.One less thing to move.

Today's weight--160.

The weekend always kills me. But, it is fast day, and in about an hour, I'll go for a run and work out.

Steve asked me to call him today. I guess he got my Father's Day card.

Today's weight--157.4

I drank too much last night with Kate, so I don't really remember what I dreamed. I never felt drunk though, just nice and light.

Two people came by to see the house today and hopefully one of them will take this house. If not, plan b, though I am not exactly sure what plan b is today.

I guess this is what an empty nest looks like. The quiet is what makes it so lonely.

Today's weight--155.9

Last night's dreams were strange, in color and left me feeling rather odd. I was at a garage sale looking through some things when I found out the woman whose sale it was husband had recently died. Her sister started following me around and kept talking to me. Then she told me she thought I could be a model and wanted to take a picture of me on her cell phone, but first I had to change into something else, so she wrapped my hair up in a scarf and told me to look down when she took the picture, and then I realized somehow, that what she was really doing was sending a picture of me to a man in the Middle East so I could be his wife, so I left and went to a party where I was in all black and combat boots and she followed me there too, and showed me a picture of what could have been my future husband, but it was you, Dear Reader, and I laughed and laughed and laughed and suddenly felt wildly drunk and started dancing with a very tall dark man who was wearing all green. Bright shinny green.

Last night after Emily and April left my 'sissy, Taylor, called and she was drunk as she often is when she calls. We only speak a few times a year and often talk for hours and hours and try and catch up, but she never remembers what she tells me or what I tell her, but I am always so glad to hear from her. She totally understands why it is so hard for me to date in Wichita anymore but was a bit shocked that I hadn't been on a date in many months, since she has always been impressed with my ability to date in Wichita. I know that part of it those is that I have thought it would be embarrassing to bring a man into my house with all these kids lounging around all the time, and that I have been hung up on moving and escape and it's unfair to start something I could not or would not finish, and I have just not been going out as often to places where there are single men really.

I feel near tears. I have all day. I was talking with Nick, the kids friend, who I spoke with at length about the novel The Unprofessionals a couple of days ago and we joked about he and I are very much like the main characters in that book expect our friendship is face-to-face and not phone based but similar nonetheless,about how I think I am emotional deficient at the moment (thought, I don't think that is quite the right term for how I feel). I just have given so much, and gotten so little back that I'm broken up and tried.

Maybe that's why I come off as bitter sometimes? Even when I am nice to the overworked cashiers in the market. Though, I am not always as nice to those people who live with me, but then neither are they. But, they are young and are going to have to learn some hard lessons and it's time for me to let them go and do those things.

Sid got lost today on his bike (which he is learning to enjoy quite a bit) because he was going the wrong way down a one way and was pulled over by the police, and after they made him cry (because he has a deep fear of the police for lots of valid and non-valid reasons), he went over to the next block to ride the right way and become confused, but he found his way home and is not at a rave hopefully having some fun and dancing. 

I made dinner for my friend April tonight so we could hash out my teaching demo, but then I invited Emily to come over too and so we mainly just talked a lot and caught up and drank a lot of white wine together. It was nice, but now I just feel so alone and sad. I am not always the best company for myself. 

But, I try and there's that. 

Yesterday's weight--156.4

Today's weight--155.2

This big house is so quiet since Nathan got drunk and left and Robyn is never here. It's fine in the evenings, but than so lonely in the mornings.

Nathan told me that I am fat and bitter. I don't even know what it means to be bitter. But, I find that people often call someone bitter when they are angry with them for spinning them around and forcing them to look at themselves.

Hopefully Sunday, someone will take this house from me and a week from now I'll have some idea if I am staying here for six more months or going to Austin, Nashville, or Melissa's basement.

Within this blog, I mention you only 11 times. Which seems very low to me compared to the amount of emails I once had from you.

I deleted the last of them last night.

It wasn't really that hard at all, but now if I could just erase you too.

I was suppose to talk to Steve today, but I didn't pick up the phone. I've had a fever all day and have just felt heavy and low in some ways.

The second time I remember being at Lynn's house, it was a Friday. I know it was a Friday because Dukes of Hazard  was on television and I hated that show. It was dumb in a way I already knew at a very young age I didn't enjoy. At some point, Lynn sent me to bed--well, a pallet on the floor, made with thick blankets and a quilt made by someones hands and not bought at a store. I was asleep and it was very dark in the room when Tim, Lynn's younger stupid brother and by that I mean, he was really not bright at all, came in the room and touched me. In ways that were wrong, because I already knew they were wrong. After the Pumpkin House, my mother taught me a bit about good touch and bad touch and strangers, etc...

I didn't tell anyone, because I think I already knew and understood that it didn't matter. These sorts of things happened to some people and I was one of those people. And, I was suppose to be happy about the new sitter. There were other children to play with now and dinners and sometimes even ice cream.

Today's weight--159.4

Dream--

I was trying to go to a wedding in OKC with what I think was my mother, and she was a bride's maid in the wedding and we were going to be very late because of some mix up or another with a ride. My hair was odd. It was long in places and short in others and very gray in some places. I took a long hot bath and then I did my hair and it was all curly in the front and red, but flat and gray in the back. We finally made it to the wedding, but were very late.

The puppy threw up all night and I didn't really sleep. Now, I am very sick to my stomach. It's probably a good thing I am fasting today.

There's so much to do and I don't think I will be getting much of it done today after all..

After the incident at the Pumpkin House, I went to a new sitter. Her name was Granny and she was very old and very mean and not really capable of taking care of me. I'm not sure how long I stay with her exactly, I think just a few hours a night while Mama was at work. Granny did not like to feed me dinner (though she often made herself large meals of meat and vegetables and bread) so all she ever gave me was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on spongy white bread and a small glass of warm water in a Tupperware cup and even now I can still taste that plastic. Then I could sit on the floor and watch Bonanza with her till it was time for bed. She had no toys, or anyway to entertain me, and I wasn't allowed to bring toys to her house. I slept in a bigger bed than I had at home and the bedspread was white and warm enough, but she always made me go to sleep much earlier than I wanted to go to sleep, but I never complained. And, it was the very first time I suffered from depression.

 One day, Granny become sick and after that she could not watch me anymore. I don't remember feeling sad about that fact, because my new sitter, Lynn, seemed very nice and had three other children who were close to my age and she fed me nice meals and washed my hair at night. Little did I know what would happen to me in that house.

This is what home looks like. A few dogs who are happy to see you and a cat who is demanding and would like more water and would like it now.

Outside the train station, I would not hug you goodbye. I just saw no reason for more touching after I was told I was aggressively romantic, though it wasn't my own shoulder I kissed this morning when we were tangled about. Plus, what was the point anyway. Hugging. Even the word sounds quite silly.

At the station, I had a nice chat with a kid going to somewhere in Tennessee. I felt compiled to speak with him because he had Sid tattoo on his hand and I wanted to know it was more than just a statement that he liked Sid Vicious. And, it was. It was his son's name and we bonded over that fact that we shared and when his girlfriend who looked maybe a bit junk sick asked him for some cash for  food,  I saw the look on his face after he handed her what I suspected was the last of his money,so I handed him all the cash in my wallet.

Then I had a nice chat with a man, who had amazing green eyes, about how people in the mid-west aren't as nice as people in some other places are, but how on the train most people were a bit friendlier and it was part of the reason that train travel was nice.

Outside of St. Louis, the train stopped for passengers and a nice kid wearing a hat that said "Dope" climbed abroad and asked to sit next to me, and his little sister ran besides the train waving as we went away. He was going to Dodge City for court this morning and I wondered what he had done and worried about his fate, because he seemed like a nice enough kid. He even bought me a bottle of water since I had given all my cash to that traveling couple and was thirsty. The kindness of strangers.

When the train had stopped again for passengers and there was enough time to smoke and my phone rang. It was the dean calling me in for an interview for a full time job that is just one semester. If I were to get it, I could move to Nashville after the New Year. Either way, I'm going. And, I'm going soon.

In KC, there was a smart couple overdressed in vintage. The man in a suit and the lady in a dress that wasn't vintage (the zipper gave it away) and gloves. Even their bags were period pieces.  I was wondering how they would travel all the way to California so over dressed, but they had a sleeper car.

The kids were late getting me, and as I sat at the train station watching the beast of the train pull away, a conductor yelled at me over the sound of train, "Did they forget ya?"

And, suddenly the trip was over. And, everything was back to normal.

No confessions tonight. I'm sleepy and not sad and I think I'll enjoy that for a moment.

You're asleep and now I can not sleep. In fact, I am so wide awake it is quite jarring, because I was finally sleeping when you came to bed, drunk and naked. Why? Why did you come to bed like that? You did do the noble thing and not sleep with me, though you put some good thought into it. Did you finish all the beer in the fridge before you decided to pass out next to me. I should have probably let you take me to a hotel, but hotel rooms are sad places when you're alone, or at least I think so, and I am scared to sleep in a room by myself most days. Esspecailly ones that are strange. I know why.

I thought about calling a cab and leaving while you slept, because along with being a theif, you are right, I am a coward. It's true. I am. I have left so many men that way, you have no idea, but I have no idea where I am, because I wasn't paying attention while we drove around. Which was silly and trusting of me.

I was having that dream I have sometimes when you came to bed. Lately, I've been having it more.

I am small. I feel small. Very small. Three or four. There is a white Buick parked in the back yard of the house that when I see it now I called it in my head the awful pumpkin house, and I am standing in the grass alone. I feel very much alone too, because at that age I understood aloneness in a way I don't think any child should. It is because of that, that I am such a easy target for the drunk Indian man (or should I call him Native American as perhaps it is rascit to refer to the man who raped me at four as Indain? Or in this case, is it okay, because after all, he raped a four year old girl who was just in the back yard trying to have childhood games and sing songs and be alone as often was the case at that time in my life). I don't realize that he is in the back seat of the car, because I don't have to always be on edge yet of strangers. No one has talked to me about strangers. And, he is not really a stranger. He lives with his girlfriend next door in the small apartment of the pumpkin house. She is pretty. I remember her being very pretty. Long hair and round glasses. Often in shorts and black tops. He asks me if I want a piece of candy. It wasn't candy though, it was a lifesaver. Peppermint. I hate peppermints now. Perhaps that is why? His cock was hanging out of his shorts. It was the late 70's and even men wore fairly short shorts then, but perhaps these were too short for good taste, since his cock was clearly visible. And, he had on a white shirt. I don't remember what I was wearing, which is odd because I have a memory of details like that usually. I also don't remember what happened in the backseat of that car after he pulled me into it. When I try and remember this is all I can remember about the actual incident and even that feels fuzzy like a grainy picture that could have been taken during that time. What I do remember after that was somehow my mother finding out and calling the police and when we got there, I stayed in the car while she screamed at that man and it was like the first time  ever heard her voice. I mean really heard her voice. And, the van was white an had no windows, so i am lucky maybe that that was not what he pulled me into, because perhaps he would have done worse things to me. Things I would have remembered now. I also remember walking down a long hospital hallway with my mother but I don't remember seeing the doctor, but I know I did, because they needed evidence, but then no one did anything to that Indian man, because at three of four, I wasn't a reliable witness. I remember my mother being very angry about that. Insanely angry, but not fighting them much. Or maybe she did.

I believe I read once, that after a child is sexually abused that the chances of that child being abused go up quite a bit.

And, my chances just kept going up and up, but I will tell those stories later.

There is that tradition of confessionals. Or is it more of a reglious thing? Either way, now it is time to write all those things that I have kept back inside myself. What I will not utter out loud. Perhaps, you should stop reading now, Dear Reader, because it's going to become very ugly and dirty and messy in a way that is not art at all but something else entirely. I know you though. You will keep reading, won't you. You already know that these things happened, but you don't know the details. You don't really know how bad they were. How much the ruined me for you, For me. For everyone. But, now, it feels like it is time to drag them all back up to the surface and face them down and you may as long go on that ride with me. Or not. I don't really care. I realized I didn't really care when I wanted to hit you really fucking hard in the chest while you were sleeping just now and stopped myself, because that's not really a kind thing to do, is it? No, it's not at all.

I don't think I totally understand what defense mechanisms are exactly. Or walls. Or whatever it is that I use to keep people from getting too close. What I do know is that I wish I had had them when I was four, and six, and seven, and nine and fourteen. Perhaps they would have kept me safe then, and allowed me to be okay now.

I don't want to worry about love anymore. I'm over that longing and all the sadness it brings. I can be sad enough all by myself. I'm tried of people hurting me even when they don't mean too.

When you told me that many other people have felt that close to you,I was reminded that really no one is special and there is no reason to think otherwise. Not anymore.

What's sad though. Is I thought that maybe you felt that close to me too.

The reason this blog is titled what it is, is because in essence, much like like my father, I am thief, and I stole the name of this blog from a Charles Wright poem. It was fitting and works for how I feel about much of my life. One bad road after another. Most of which I would had rather not been on.

You keep asking me what I want on the damn pizza. Which is annoying sweet in a way I would rather you not be right now, because cruelty would make much more sense (please excuse the typos for now. I will correct them when I am at a computer that I understand better than this one).

When I ask you, and I will because maybe just this once you will listen to me, to never speak to me again. To just leave me alone. No more words. Nothing. Possibly forever, but at for at least a long, very long time. Will you? I suspect you will not. You don't like being told no for some reason. And, while I don't care much for it, the act of being told no, I do respect it. Sometimes.

You will always be able to find me though, Dear Reader, here. On these pages. I will let you know in my own way way, at a safe distance from you, where you can no longer bring me both to the point of pleasure and hurt, what is happening. I can give you that, but not much more. It is why in a drunken haze, I guess, I told you about this blog last night. Because, I knew I could not talk to you, or write as our relationship is based more solidly in words that once would had been on paper, but now are clicked away in a cyber haze so I told you about this space. So, you could have some comfort. Because I know you will need it after I am totally gone and it will possibly be here for you on days I feel incline to write about my own comings and goings. I try and write often at times, and then I often stop. Don't count on too much.

One can only take so much rejection in a lifetime. Especially from someone they love as deeply as I love you.

Also, while I wrote this. Those songs, I was playing on youtube. They were Steve's, because after all, I am in 'love' with musicians.

And, while that is not true. Perhaps, I will make it true. Or just remain too big for the world and everyone in it.

If you really knew me though. You would had known, it was you. It was always you.