BLOG: My Circus, My Monkeys

Ugh. Life. At least it never gets boring. I guess. That’s one way to look at it.

This week has been shit start to finish. Mad Dog pointed out that it was the full moon and I always lose my shit during the full moon. He is probably right. I don’t know what’s up with me but I have just felt like shit all week. So many ups and downs. So many mixed emotions. Everything going on around me is ridiculous. It’s way too much for me to handle. Especially because I just feel so alone. I am completely alone. I am going through all of this alone.

I know writing is a lonely life but I wish I had someone to hang out with just to take my mind off of it. I wish so often I had a group of girlfriends to hang out with like I did in college. They were always down for a good pizza/movie/wine night. I miss that. I don’t have any friends left here anymore. It just makes me so sad.

Speaking of friends, I had some rough but necessary conversations last night. I was the first to apologize for all of the fucked up shit I said and did while I was wasted. I didn’t want that to be the excuse, but I learned of something I did during a bender-blackout that was really horrible and now I feel bad about it. I had no idea I did that. I was stunned when I heard it. I was just like, “Wow, I wish I had known this sooner. I would have apologized. I’m so sorry.” There were some other things too. Some of it I felt was people taking things that were written during the bender-blackouts way too seriously, but it did explain a lot of weird vibes I was getting from people. I felt bad about it, of course. It’s safe to say I’ve learned a very important lesson in regards to writing about real people. I hope I can do much better in the future. To be honest, I probably won’t ever write about them after this at all.

I’m glad we had the conversations. I think the three of us all walked away feeling like we had resolved things. It felt good. I wish I could do that with everybody, especially Sam. Alas. He is just… crazy. At least now I will forever have the image of him driving by in his Douchemobile while screaming at me like a deranged lunatic seared into my brain.

Lol, I actually start laughing out loud when I think about it. It was funny! It really was! I wish I could be more serious about it but LOL! I couldn’t even hear what he was saying over the New Orleans Jazz Radio. He just looked so completely unhinged in that moment. Hahaha, I’m sorry, I know it’s bad, but LOL at that mental image! Just the fire in his eyes alone! It was just like Cruella DeVille when she’s driving all crazy at the end of 101 Dalmatians. I’m sorry, but superimposing the crazed cartoon swirly eyes onto his face is making it even funnier now. Hahahaha. Vroom vroom!

The entire ordeal actually had the opposite effect intended. It reminded me why I love Bloody Mary’s so much. This is my circus and these are my monkeys, lol. I love every single minute of it. I am just as bad as they are. I know it. I can’t help myself. I love it so much. I love my stories and my characters. I’m so glad I was finally able to get past that angry block I was going through and learn to love them again. I’m happy I can love them again. That was what I always wanted.

That being said, I remain optimistic that we can resolve things eventually. You know, when Sam gets over his paranoid delusions that I spend all of my free time hiding in his bushes, watching his every move. Clearly that is not actually a thing I have time for with my busy schedule, but he will insist that’s what going on IRL. He will not listen to anyone who says otherwise. It’s… strange. I don’t get him. But according to my notes from a million years ago, not a whole lot of other people do either. Guess he’s just a weirdo like that. *shrugs* Who knows?

Seriously though, I actually do feel better after the conversations I had last night. I do feel really bad about my behavior when I was drunk. I wish I hadn’t pushed so many people away like that. I was just lashing out at anyone affiliated with Bloody Mary’s because I was hurting so much. I couldn’t see any of my friends anymore because they all went there. When I was banned, it cut off my entire social life. It really messed me up to continually be labeled as something I’m not and be treated badly by random strangers because of it. I was just upset. I still feel like it’s extremely unfair.

I think the strangest thing I heard last night was that people feel sorry for me when they see me sitting on the bench outside Bloody Mary’s. I was literally like, “Huh? Why? You know that when you see me doing that, it’s because I’m writing.” This is true. Bloody Mary’s gives me good vibes. I literally used to go write there all the time. That bench is the only way I can be close to it now. And that’s fine, because I’ve written some great shit on that bench. I do a long walk around town when I’m writing and always sit there at the end of it to process. I’ve come up with some brilliant ideas there. Most of them having absolutely nothing to do with Bloody Mary’s itself. That bar just has a creative vibe. I don’t know what it is. There’s no other place around like it. But it’s part of me now and I refuse to compromise on that. I don’t have to. My creative ventures are 100% valid.

There is no reason to pity me when you see me sitting there. It means I’m writing. It means I’m happy, even if I looked pissed off, because writing usually makes me happy. You don’t need to feel sorry for me because I “can’t let go of a bar.” It’s never going to be just another bar to me. It’s never been just another bar to me. It’s my story. They’re my characters. I love them. I don’t have to let them go or give them up. They can live on the page forever, just the way they are. I’m okay with that.

Well, I’m going to go do something else now. Not sure what because my mind feels good but my body feels TERRIBLE. Those cops really did a number on me. I’ve got bruises and scratches all up and down my arms. My wrists are fucked up. I didn’t sleep at all. I also have the added bonus of a hangover, because why wouldn’t this ordeal involve alcohol? So puking on an empty stomach has been great fun as well. Maybe I will scout out some Mexican food. It’s the only real hangover cure. Except for maybe a Bloody Mary, that is…

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