Life, Death, Misery, and Blog Maintenance

September 30, 2007

I missed you, whoever you are. I have had a Godawful time blogging, what with no Internet and all. But I have been writing, on the chance I'd finally get to post. So here are some of the things that have been on my mind the last few months. Gods willing, I'll be a better blogger in the future. good night and good luck...stimp

May 22, 2007

I miss the rest of the world.

That sounds (or looks) really bizarre, but it’s true. I miss the rest of the world. Desperately. It is strange when you spend most of your life denying technology, to admit that there is a part of it that has become almost necessary. But I have come to that conclusion about the Internet. I don’t miss my phone. Most of the time, my phone calls involved someone wanting money from me in one fashion or another. I don’t get any more calls about who has done what to whom recently. Other than the continuing drama that is my own real life, it’s actually pretty nice not to have the phone ring. But the Web was where I got mail I wanted, talked to friends, socialized, and kept track of all the events in the wide world from a variety of sources. I got to chat with newfound friends about the war, or the world, or the tie Keith Olbermann happened to be wearing on the show this evening. I am now as cut off from that world as if it never existed. I miss watching the news all day. I feel tremendously ignorant of what is happening around me. One half hour of network news, no matter who does it, doesn’t get the job done.

I miss my blog. I know that very, very few people actually read the thing. But I am proud of stimp and the world. I think I was learning to write, really write, by writing there. I was learning how to say what I meant with economy, thought, and a style of my own. I am proud of that. I must admit that I keep most of these sentiments to myself. With things here the way they are, I would not want to make things worse by complaining about something that there is no cure for. Still, the quiet and isolation is sometimes overwhelming. Believe it or not, even I can read only so many books. I can only watch so many movies. I can play only so much Dungeons and Dragons, although that is one of the few times I interact with people who don’t actually live with me.

I think the isolation was brought home most vividly today. One of my oldest friends stopped by to see us today. We rattled on for a little while about the horror of doctors, nurses, lawyers, and workman’s comp. And when I asked my friend how things were going with him, he told me that his mother has passed away. A week ago. I knew nothing about it. If I had a phone, one of my friends would have called me. There are probably several emails on the subject I haven’t seen, having no access to email. And so someone I care about, whom I have been a friend with for 20 years, could not receive support and condolence from our family, because we knew nothing about it.

I really miss the rest of the world. Maybe someday I will post this on the blog, to document this time as well as the other blithering idiocy I usually carry on about. Until then…good night and good luck…stimp



September 13, 2007

Far Too Long

There are ways to tell if you have been away from other people for far too long. I must admit that my life is fairly solitary at the moment, what with all that is going on lately. I don’t go out much, have limited phone conversations, limited internet access, and few people stop here. Don’t seem to be able to get a job, so all in all, I don’t get around. That sounds way whinier than I mean it to be. For the most part I don’t mind. No phone means no irritating calls from people I don’t know trying to sell me things. I admit, not having 24-hour news makes me feel more cut off than lack of phone does. But I noticed some things that are signs that I haven’t been out in way too long. I was sitting here a bit ago, playing a “Wheel Of Fortune” computer game. That is a bad sign in and of itself. Pat and Vanna get on my nerves, and this game only has Vanna. But when I start thinking to myself that I really hate Player Three, that “she” is a total bitch, and Player Three is a computer, this may be a bad sign. Besides family, for whom I am grateful, my entire social interaction lately has been comprised of “Dungeons & Dragons” games every Saturday, and funerals. The only new people I have met were at the funerals, and my son’s school open house. I met his new teachers. Banner night. When I am watching football games on Sunday night I don’t care about because I dig the witty repartee between Bob Costas and Keith Olbermann, I need to get out more. The fact that I am complaining in a blog article that will get saved to a file when I am done, and I may or may not remember to put on a disc to take to the library and post on the site is pathetic. This may never see the light of day, but I will be damned if I don’t write it anyway. The fact that I am writing it at 2:53 am instead of sleeping is not a good sign. But perhaps it is better to be writing than worrying about not being asleep. Some interaction is better than none at all. The fact that I still have clarity of mind enough to write is good. I am worried lately about my ability to focus. I am jumpy and easily distracted. I sleep too much during the day, or not at all. Things are so fucked up right now that even my old weird normal would be an improvement. I miss my life. I try not to think about it too much, but I really do. I miss my therapist. I miss cable. I miss Keith Olbermann, and “Mythbusters”, and “Ninja Warrior”. I am sick of CSI this, and Law and Order that. I want to watch Sportscenter. I miss playing this one trivia contest on the local radio station’s website. I miss my friends at the O.o, and streaming internet radio. Maybe it’s not being alone too long, but losing almost everything all at once, and having this massive gap where my life used to be. By now, I should be accustomed to the way things are. They have been like this for a while. Hanging on a thread, and having it set on fire. Maybe the little things are what kept me from thinking about how scary it has gotten.

Even so…Player Three is still a bitch. Good night and good luck…stimp





Happy Birthday to me…


Today is my 41st birthday. I am not planning anything extraordinary to celebrate. A return to my blog, as I have several entries saved to post. A trip to the library, to check my email, and get fresh books and movies. My folks are bringing me one of my favorite foods, cabbage rolls with sauerkraut, and a pineapple upside down cake. My sweet husband asked his mom to bake me a cake. My birthday, in the past, had held unpleasant surprises. I am hoping for none of those, but I am not counting on it. I was thinking of some other things, unlikely as some of them are, that I wish I would have for my birthday.

I wish I had cable and the internet again. I hate feeling disconnected from the rest of the world. I wish my newly repaired Xbox 360 would get here today. My kid would be in seventh heaven if it did. I wish those assholes would quit fighting it and give my husband the medical attention and temporary disability he needs. He is in pain, and I hate it. I get angrier everyday about the flaming hoops he has to go through to get fair Worker’s Comp benefits. We’ve been fighting at least nine months. I wish I had a job. I have been looking for one, but a fat manic-depressive in her forties is not good job material, I guess. Sure would help though. I wish I could go and sing with all of my friends. I used to throw the best birthday parties for myself. After all, if you throw your own party, you know exactly what you are going to get. I miss my friends. I wish the war were over. My kid asked me about the whole “Mission Accomplished” thing last night. I explained to him about the political concept of “bullshit”. He is too young to have to worry about all of that, but this horrifying stuff has touched his life as surely as the ones of all the adults he knows. His cousin has already done one tour of duty in Iraq. I wish I had more money, more groceries, health insurance, and a big fat Borders gift card. (Not everything on this list is deadly serious!) I wish I had a day at a spa, with a massage, hair styling, a manicure, the works. A day of beauty, or at least as close as I can get considering what I have to start with. I wish I had an autographed picture of Keith Olbermann. I wish I could sing with Meat Loaf, somewhere other than in my car. (I said some of this stuff is silly!) I wish I could go to Florida and see my friend Lisa. I miss her.

Mostly I wish for peace. Peace on Earth, peace of mind, peace of spirit. Those are a lot harder to come by, and not likely to come with a bow on my birthday. Good night, and good luck…stimp



Songs

There are songs for everything. Unfortunately. There is also no way to control how songs are sometimes used. I hate hearing Electric Light Orchestra or Beatles songs used in commercials. Didn’t there used to be a whole profession of people who wrote catchy songs for ads? Anyway, I was making a playlist of songs I wanted to hear this morning, and it occurred to me to share some of them with others. You, the six of you reading this, being the others. So here I go.

An unexpected song: “I’m Coming Home” from The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Of all the wonderful songs to come from the spectacular silliness of that movie. I love that movie, and that song.

A sexy song: “Cry To Me” by Solomon Burke. Anyone who has ever seen Dirty Dancing knows this song. Think of Baby and Johnny in his cottage. Enough said.

A song for a good day: “Do Ya” by Electric Light Orchestra. The opening guitar chords are enough to put a smile on my face.

Anything by “Weird” Al Yankovic. I adore “Weird” Al. My favorite is “One More Minute” from the album “Dare To Be Stupid”. One of my sisters is also partial to “Amish Paradise”. And head over to You Tube and watch the “White and Nerdy” video, complete with Donny Osmond. I dare you not to laugh.

Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond: Okay, stop laughing. I love these guys. Good, clean emotional songs to sing to. “Could It Be Magic” is one of my favorite songs ever. I even have a disco version.

Bette Midler singing “Stay With Me” on the Divine Madness soundtrack. I sing along, badly, usually crying my eyes out at the same time.

Gods, there are too many. Bobby Darin and “If I Were A Carpenter”. Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road”. “Beginnings”, a wonderful Chicago song I sang to my husband on our wedding day. The Dells singing “Stay In My Corner”. Dolly Parton’s simple, original version of “I Will Always Love You”. I have a live version of The Doors singing “Gloria” that is so sexy and raunchy, I listen to it alone. “Bernadette” by The Four Tops. So longing and desperate. Janis Joplin. Johnny Cash covering “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails. The song is different, but the exquisite pain is the same. “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush. The song they keep playing a bit of the current “CSI” promos. Meat Loaf. Otis Redding. Prince. Randy Newman singing “Political Science” or “Burn On”. Go look for “Songs For Dustmites” by Steve Burns. Yes, the “Blue’s Clues” Steve Burns. The whole album is amazing. The long live versions of “Everytime You Go Away” by Hall and Oates, or “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel.

Wow. There is way more of this than I originally thought. I was looking at my personal playlist on my computer while I made the list, and there must be 200 more songs I could list. But like 500 lawyers at the bottom of Lake Erie, it’s a good start. Good listening! Good night and good luck…stimp





George

An old friend of mine is gone, at least for now. I knew a wonderful man named George. I met him twenty years ago, when I went to work at McDonald’s. I hated working at McD’s. Both times. But somehow, hanging around with George made it better. I left McDonald’s, got married, moved away, moved home, got divorced. But George was still here. Not at the Golden Arches anymore, but still home, going to college, just like when I left. We took up more or less where we left off. I was older, sadder, but no wiser, I think. But George was still George, funny, sweet, same as he ever was. I got to know him a bit better this time around. I saw he was troubled, and sad too much. He still joked around, but now I could see some of what was beneath, and sometimes we talked about it. He wouldn’t talk much, though. If he hadn’t talked me into it, I probably would not have spent time with the man who is my sweet husband, and has been for the last eleven years. Because I wouldn’t have joined the “Star Trek” fan club they both belonged to. When we learned we were having a baby, George would come and see me at work, with a huge list of silly suggestions for baby names. I think it is by the grace of the gods that my son isn’t John Paul George Ringo, instead of Alexander. He would make me laugh forever with suggested names. He used to tell me that George was a great name, and if it was a girl, we could name her Georgia. He showed me Monty Python, for which I am eternally grateful. He was generous to a fault sometimes. If I said I might want to get a CD of someone’s music, he might show up next visit with all the CDs he had of them. When I sang charity karaoke, he would show up, donate $20, and request I sing the silliest things. Like “Safety Dance” or songs from “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”, which we had gone to see forever ago. I’d sing anything he asked, as long as I knew it. He never failed to make me laugh, cry, or do both at the same time.

My friend died way too young last week, at 39. He was, as usual, alone. It was a freak accident, and no one knew. The sad thing was the “alone” part. I try not to think about it much. And when I found out, my heart was broken. Will be for a long time, I think. All around my home, I see things that remind me. My “Monty Python” movies. The DVD of “Rocky Horror”, with the figurines he gave us for Christmas one year. My Princess Leia slave girl doll. We were alumni of the same university. And every time I think of him, in a way I wish he hadn’t kept me at arm’s length quite so much. I wish he had let us give back as much as he gave us.

There is a picture of him on my desk now. He and my brother in law, who were also friends from that long ago fan club, are wearing kilts. They were in a contest. I like to remember him that way. Being with a friend, doing something maybe a little silly. It helps to ease the sadness of knowing I can’t be silly with him anymore. I can never explain all the things he was, all the things he meant to me. But I miss him, every day right now, very much. Wherever he is, I hope he is having a Guinness and a laugh. Hopefully, someday I’ll join him, with all those I loved, and have a laugh over all the silly shit that happened since last we met. And maybe sing the “Spam” song. See you on the other side, George. Good night and good luck…stimp