HN59 Girlfriends

So, on Thursday night we were having another monsoon storm when I heard a thunder crack so loud it made me jump out of my chair.  I decided to lay off the internet and catch up on my DVR.  Turn on the TV and...nothing.

Restart the DVR...Nothing...No satellite signal.  I figured it was because the storm was still in the area so I went to bed.  Woke up the next day...No satellite signal.  I call the Direct TV and BWA BWA no TV until Monday.

Then I remembered that because I have HBO, I can access shows online.  I have been on this Sex in the City kick.  I didn't ever see the show when it originally ran and I haven't seen the first movie.  But I was catching the edited shows on E! and all of a sudden I needed to watch them.  So I log onto the HBO and start watching from episode one.

At first I was endeared with the friendship the woman had...Then the show turned into something I could not relate to at all.  Granted, I don't have a core group of girlfriends, but I used to.  In jr. high and high school, I had a core group of girlfriends I couldn't live without.

In Jr. High it was:

Janessa was a short blonde with green eyes.  Everyone expected us to be best pals because of the name and we didn't disappoint.  i spent the night at her dad's house all the time.  We swapped boyfriends more than once.  We even tried to hatch a plan to fix my mother up with her father.  Her and I went to our first concert together.  I was the first person she called when she lost her virginity.  I got into more fights with Janessa then anyone.  Probably because I loved her so much and I was watching her self-destruct.  Sometimes you have to let them go.  I saw her about six-months before I left and she's doing great.

Heather was the new girl in school.  Blonde and pretty.  The "popular" girls made fun of her because she was wearing white jeans and they had a red Levi tag on the ass.  They teased her about starting her period and almost made her cry.  I didn't give a shit.  She seemed nice enough so I introduced myself and we were instant friends.  I spent a lot of time with her and her mom.  The first time I saw Rocky Horror was with Heather.  The first time I got drunk was with Heather.  We were 15 and at her neighbors house drinking Coronas.  Her neighbors brother just got of jail and his 19 year old self was quite smitten with Heather.  So much so, he tried to put it in her butt.  I saw Heather run out of the closet they were hiding in and into the bathroom.  I said something like, take a shit, you'll feel better.  She and I swapped one boyfriend.  Turns out once was enough and our friendship dwindled.

Shannon was a classroom aid's daughter.  She was a petite, blonde, big blue eyes, and beautiful.  We came together because we like the same boy.  Mike Mysak.  He was dreamy and an artist and was Shannon's boyfriend.  And how dare I be talking to him.  I don't remember what we talked about, but we became fast friends.  I also became fast friends with her family.  I spend a lot of time with Shannon and her family through jr. high and high school.  Even if we didn't hang out in the same circles in high school.  I was still in her life and she was still in mine.  I was one of the first people to know that Shannon was having a baby.  I remember when Chloe was born.  I had come home from Taco Bell, Nachos in hand and my mom said Gayle, Shannon's mom, had called and said Chloe arrived.  I dropped my Nachos on the ground, ran to my car, and hauled ass to the hospital.  Chloe was perfect.  Shannon is someone I wish was still in my life as a constant, but I get her in small flashes.  I will take it.  She is an amazing mom to two girls and a step mom to another and still beautiful in every way.

In high school, I was in a different district from my girls and the year apart took it's toll.  When I transferred to the same school as my girls, it was very different.  And I went on a search for a new core group.  This brought Gina, Karen, and Karin.

I have talked about Gina before, so I will spare the details again.

Karen with an 'E' was Gina's best friend since elementary school and lived in the same Town houses.  I somehow fit myself in and Karen and I found we had something in common.  We liked to tease Gina.  Oh and we liked to flirt with the security guard so he would buy us cigarettes.  Karen made me laugh, and loud.  We were goof balls.  But as Gina and I grew closer, Karen and I grew apart.  I was taking her childhood friend as far as she was concerned and that was unforgivable.  She lives in Kentucky with her son and is a born again.

Karin with an "I" also lived in the same town houses as Gina and Karen.  I met her when she started working at Burger King.  She had a Honda Civic and listened to Keith Sweat and DMX.  Karin made me laugh all the time.  We used to drive around in her car and to amuse herself, she would roll up the windows and turn the heat on so it blew on our feet.  I would yell at her my feet are hot and she would laugh her big laugh.  For those of you who comment on my laugh,  you would love Karin's laugh.  She married her long time boyfriend and ended up divorcing fairly quickly.  But she isn't one to let life keep her down.  She owns her own condo, has a hunky marine boyfriend, and seems to be very happy.

So while watching Sex in the City did resonate with me like it must have with other women, it did remind me that I didn't always not get along with females and that I actually did have some really great friends.  And while I may not be close with them anymore, I still have a lot of good memories, and that has made me feel good this week.

I Hope He Did

Long time listener pals will know that I have often joked about having daddy issues.  I have wanted to do a show about my father for a long time.  I could never find the right time to sit and talk about things I have been ashamed of for the majority of my life.  But I have come to a point where if I don't purge these things, I will never feel better about myself or my relationship with my father.

I will start off by saying that these are my memories and they may not be accurate.  I really think I have blocked some things out.  

My father's name was Odin, he went by Lee.  He was born in 1957 in Colorado, but I am not sure.  He married my mom in November of 1978, when I was six-months old.  I don't know what he did for a living when I was a baby, but I remember him being a security guard.  He took me to work with him once.  A nice lady gave me candy.

I don't remember the first time my father hit me, nor do I remember the last time.  I do remember the routine.  He would go in his room and get his belt, close my bedroom window, close my bedroom door, and tell me to bend over in front of the closet.  I remember him telling me if I screamed he's hit me harder.  I remember always being afraid.  I used to think that my father got off on hearing me cry and scream.  He used to lock me in the trunk of the car and laugh when I would scream to get out.  He told me I needed to toughen up.

I remember once I had done something that made him mad, but he didn't have time to "discipline" me then.  Told me I was lucky.  Two days later we had picked up a bed for my sister.  He built the bed, made it, then looked at me and said, it time to take care of you now.  He pushed me into my room and did the routine.  He would tell me in the morning he was going to come home and whip me and I would spend all day praying he would forget.  He never did.

When I was six, I had a pink shirt with Garfield on the front.  I remember him telling me to put it away.  I was six...I folded it as best a six year old could and put it in the wrong drawer.  This set him off.  This was the angriest I remember him being.  I couldn't go to school after the incident.  When I did return, I remember my teacher asking me something that lead me to say my daddy hit me.  She sent me to the nurse and the nurse checked me for bruises.  The police were called to my house.  I don't remember anything about them being there other than they being there and my mother being furious at me for showing the nurse my backside.  Shortly after, my mother and father split up and My mother, sister, and I moved in with my grandparents.

At first, my dad was attentive.  We saw him every weekend.  Talked to him on the phone almost every day.  But one day I had called, and he couldn't hear me.  I called again, he couldn't hear me.  I called the next day,  he couldn't hear me.  I called again and his girlfriend, Pam, could and put him on the phone.  He said he didn't know why he couldn't hear me and it must have been the connection.  This happened for a month.  I wasn't stupid and when he answered the phone I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Daddy i know you can hear me and I love you and wish you would love me."  He hung up.

In this time frame, the excuses started with why he couldn't see up.  The last time my mom tried to drop us off, he answered the door, I remember him being naked.  He told us we had to leave, that we couldn't visit and closed the door.  That was the last time I was dropped off for a visit.  I was eight.  There were a few phone calls, promises of visits, promises of lots of things.  It is heartbreaking to know at the age of eight that your father has no intention of taking care of you or seeing you, and soon even talking to you.

A few years later, I answered the phone and heard a very familiar voice ask for my mother.  She was at work.  He asked me if I knew who he was.  I said, "Yes, Lee.  I know who you are."  He went into a I've missed you, I want to make it up to you, but I've been sick.  Same speech I had heard a dozen times.  After we hung up, I called my mother at work asking why she had been hiding him from me.  In my mind, she knew where he was and was talking to him, but didn't tell me.  She was hiding him from me.  For my own good, now that i can look back as an adult.  I was so confused.  We did end up seeing him...In a mental hospital, where he had been committed for trying to commit suicide.  That was the last time I saw my father.  I was 12.

When my father was released, he moved to Colorado to take care of his mother.  And at first, the phone calls were regular, I think there were some letters.  For Christmas, he sent me a bible.  I am not nor have i ever been religious and didn't understand the gift.  My father was angry because I didn't appreciate it.  I was 12!  All I cared about was New Kids on the Block and having bangs.  I still have the bible.  He wrote in it.  It's the only gift he had given me.  And while I may not have any interest in reading it, I know it is there.

Soon the letters stopped, the phone calls dwindled.  Soon his phone was disconnected.  I would have to call my grandmother and tell her I lost his number and she would give me the new one.  This game continued until 1994.  Around this time, my father wanted me to go to Colorado and see him.  Told me he was saving up to buy my an airplane ticket.  Called me one day to tell me he had purchased it with United and he couldn't wait to see me.  I called United and what do you know, no plane ticket.  I called him out and the lies started flowing how the airline made a mistake and he would fix it.  I gave up.

My best friend in high school's name was Shannon.  She had moved to Colorado for a year and came back.  Her family had to drive up to pick up a few things and invited me to come along.  I accepted.  Shannon's father asked me if i wanted to see my dad.  That he would drive me to Denver if i wanted.  I declined.  I knew Lee wouldn't want to see me.  I enjoyed my trip and seeing parts of the land that I may have never seen otherwise.

While I was gone, my father had called.  I don't know  how the conversation went, but he knew I had been in Colorado.  The phone call I got when I was back home I have titled "The Best and Worst Moment of My Life."  Lee screamed at me, what an ungrateful bitch I was, and how dare I not tell him I was going to Colorado.  How dare I keep that from him.  I stuck up for myself.  I said he hadn't given two shits about me for years, he lied all the time, and I deserve better.  He then told me I was not to talk to my father that way.  I told him, if you acted like my father, even once, maybe I could show you that respect.  I also said, I know you are lying to Grandma about why you don't talk to us and why you don't see us.  She was ill at that time, so i told him, I will let her continue thinking that her only son is a model human being and father.  He thanked me.  He thanked me for protecting him from my poor grandmother who thought my mother was keeping us from her.  He then said to me that if I wanted to be in his life, I had to call him.  I said NO!  You are the adult, you are my father, if you want to be in my life, you will call me.  I was 16...I never talked to him again.

On July 28th, my mother called me telling me that a police officer had come to her door looking for my sister. That my sister had to call someone regarding a person in Wyoming.  My mother called and got in touch with a lovely woman.  This lovely woman is a coroner and was trying to find my sister to notify her my father was dead.

I was and still am a little in shock.  I never thought I would know when Lee passed away.  I thought it would happen and I would spend my entire life wondering.  I have looked for my father every year, around his birthday, and hope I could find him.  I don't have to look anymore.

After 20 years of not having Lee in my life,  he is now overwhelming it.  I have had to sign documents giving permission to cremate him, sell what belongings he had, and provide what information I could for his death certificate.  Which I suppose is normal for a child to do for their parent, but I can't help feeling like I shouldn't have had to do this.  Then all my anger rose to the surface again.  And what saved me from completely going into some weird rage-filled place was this coroner.

She has gone beyond the duties of her job.  Really.  I don't know anything specific because she can't tell me until his case is closed.  But she told me that he lived alone, his neighbors didn't see him for weeks at a time.  Even his close friend said he wouldn't see him for weeks.  That he was having a very hard time coping with trauma he experienced as a child.  His records indicate suicidal thoughts, anger problems, and he was not dealing with it all well.  The only reason anyone knew he passed was he was a Veteran, a fact I did not know.  They do welfare calls to check on vets from time to time.  He didn't answer his phone.

He died alone.  He died alone and probably felt like no one loved him.  And as much as I had been angry with him, I found that I was beginning to feel sad for him.  That whatever demons he had, they were too much for him.  And in all this anger and sadness, I found that I did have love for my father.  That he gave me life, and maybe that was all he could give me.

I know I will never get the answers I want as to why my father chose to leave us behind and battle his thoughts alone.  I will never quite understand.  Maybe it was to spare us from watching him deteriorate.  Maybe he didn't want to make his demons, mine and my sisters'.  Little did he know that he did.

I wish he knew that I never stopped looking and I would have done anything to help him.  In the end I just wanted him to love me, and I hope he did.  

I Can't Drive

My first car was a 1991 Ford Escort LX that I named Mollie.  I purchased Mollie before I even had a license.  I didn't get my license until I was 18.  I wasn't in a super hurry to get a car or anything, but it got to a point where if I wanted to go anywhere, I had to do it myself.  I failed my driving test the first time.  I didn't even get to finish my test, I messed up so bad, the lady had me go back to the DMV.  The second time, I barely passed.  I think I had one more error I could make before failing again.

The first thing I did when I got my license was drive to my friend April's house in Mollie, rocking out to No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom.  Mollie gave me the freedom to come and go as I pleased.  I could go to friends' houses without having to take a bus or get a ride.  I could drive to and from work.  I could take care of myself.  One night I was driving on the 8 east in San Diego when my check engine light came on, the car turned off, and at 2 in the morning, was able to take an off ramp and park in a parking lot.  She wouldn't re-start.  I called Jody and he came and picked me up and dropped me off at home.  At 6am, the tow truck dropped Mollie off in front of my house.  I don't remember what exactly happened, but it would require a new engine.  I sold Mollie to one of Jody's co-worker's for $600 and he put a new engine in it for his daughter.  I was completely devastated.  I cried when they towed her away.  I didn't take care of her like I should have.  I was completely naive to oil changes and tune ups.  I hope where ever she ended up, she was taken care of.

My second car was a 1992 Pontiac Sunbird.  It was a white convertible.  I thought it was cute and I needed a car.  Almost immediately, I started having problems with her.  I didn't even name her.  She cost me so much stress and headache, I actually came to resent the car.  It was my fault for not shopping around and I know that.  I am such an impulse shopper.  You would think I would learn from my mistakes.  

My third car was a 1998 Plymouth Breeze.  She was gold and I named her Dorothy.  I made sure I took car of this car.  Made sure all my oil changes, tune ups, ect was taken care of.  She was a good car.  She was also a grandma car.  At least that's what most of my friends said.  But I didn't care, I felt safe in Dorothy and would rather feel safe then not.  I had Dorothy for five years.  As good as she was, her repairs were becoming more costly and soon becoming more than what she was worth.  So I traded her in for my current car, BoJangles, or, BoJo for short.

BoJo is a 2003 Blue PT Cruiser.  He was the first car I purchased without a parent co-signing and the first car I felt had a male personality.  I always wanted a PT Cruiser because it had an old car look to it.  Again, I made sure I kept up on maintenance and took good care of the BoJo.  I was smart enough to purchase a warranty for BoJo and thank the heavens I did.  Between sensor and CPU problems, Without the warranty, I would have had to put in $7k-$8k in repairs for him in the last year.  My warranty expired in April of this year.  Just in time for my transmission to start leaking, my CPU to crash, my sensors to give out.  I have been in Tucson for 28 days.  I have been to the mechanic seven times.  I  have paid $2k in repairs and I am getting to the point where I am ready to move on.  Part of me is extremely sad about that.  I love BoJo, but I don't have the funds to shell out $500 every three months.  Also, with the last break down, I don't know that I feel safe.  Even thought the Service Manager and the mechanic both have reassured me he is safe to drive.  

So I am thinking that after I pay off the debt I have accumulated from his repairs, I will be looking into getting a new car.  I think I want a Honda.  But I am not sure.  I have some time to think and consider.  I am also taking suggestions.  

I will say that I think BoJo is finally fixed.  Just in time for me to run a red light, which I swear was yellow, Getting my picture taken by the lovely red light camera, and barely miss hitting someone making a u-turn who obviously didn't look to see if more cars were coming.  From what I understand, Arizona law is you have to serve a person with a ticket in person.  That if they send it via mail, I am not obligated to pay it.  So, I will have to see if I even get one.  Apparently the camera also can tell if you were speeding.  Well, when I saw the light turn yellow, I stepped on the gas.  I don't know if I was speeding, but I may be ticketed  for speeding too.  Opps!  I am just so over cars and driving right now.

Anniversaries

Two anniversaries have happened in the last week, week and a half.  On July 7th, Derek and I have been married for eight years.  Even though we spent the 7th year and the beginning of our 8th apart, we are both very excited what the rest of the year will bring us.  We have both done a lot of soul searching, a lot of growing up.  I think we are both kicking ourselves for wasting the last year.  But who knows what would have happened to us if we didn't experience it.  I think about it from time to time.  Would we still be married?  Would I be in Tucson? We will never know and there really is no reason to dwell on it.  As hard as the last year was for me, I am thankful for it.  I really am.

The second event, for lack of a better term, was on the 15th.  On July 15, 2010, I released the first Hello Nessa episode.  The show that I started for three reasons.  The first was I still wanted my foot planted in the podcasting community.  Second was I needed a place to vent my frustrations.  And third, I really had no idea who I was or wanted to be.  All I knew was I was lost, frustrated, and hurting.  As most of you can tell, I am an emotional girl.  I was so scared that me showing that side of myself would scare some of you off, or, like in elementary school, I would be teased relentlessly.  I was surprised, grateful, and humbled by the support and love I received from my listener pals.  I was able to connect with you, share your stories, be supportive.

I originally got into podcasting because the podcasters I interacted with took their time and made me feel like I belonged and made me feel like I was apart of something special.  I wanted to do that for others.  I wanted to interact with people everywhere and have them feel as important as the podcasters I loved made me feel.  I hope I have succeeded; even on a small scale.

As some of you know, I have been a podcaster for four years across three different shows.  It wasn't always fun, and lets face it, some of it was drama infested and almost ruined it for me.  But I was encouraged to keep going and my voice was important.  I am so very grateful for those who did and continue to encourage me, support me, and have shared their lives with me.

Donna Suggarz from Big Silly Homo asked me what was my favorite episode I did.  The first one that came to my mind was episode 15 called Ally.  I discussed my thoughts and feelings on the gay youth committing suicide.  Having one person contact me and say, "You made me think."  was worth it.  I have done 54 episodes over the last year and I am proud of every single one of them.  Each of them have given me an outlet to express my self.  They have given me an opportunity to grieve, an opportunity to celebrate, an opportunity to connect with my listener pals, and lastly, understand myself a little bit more.

As I tackle more subjects, I will be honest as I can with you.  As the bad parts are tackled, there will be more room for me to let in the good.  And as those good times happen, I will share them with me as long as you'll let me.  So, as I reflect on this journey to get to know myself, what have I learned...I  have learned:

Letting my guard down is so very hard
Sometimes you need to face the bad in your life to heal and to appreciate the good
I will eventually like myself

Am I perfect, no.  Will I be?  I hope not.  I am learning to embrace what makes me, me.  And I am finding that I am not so bad.

Between the Two

I had a hell of a time trying to come up with a topic for this week.  The more I thought about it, the more blocked I became.  And no fiber jokes, thank you very much.

So I took to the twitters and said I had pod-block.  Both Big Fatty and Virginia suggested that I talk about the differences between San Diego and Tucson.  Great idea that I should have totally thought about.

I think the first thing I really noticed between the two cities was the traffic lights.  In San Diego, the cars turning get the green light first.  In Tucson, the straight-a-way cars get first dibs, then the turning lanes get to go.  Keeping on the subject of cars; In San Diego, when you have to have an emissions test, you have to make an appointment, pay $60-$100 bucks (depending on the car) and the test takes 10-15 minutes.  In Tucson, you don't make an appointment, you can check online the wait times at the stations, the test costs $12.25 and took less than two minutes.  Then the DMV!  i don't know if I lucked out or what, but here in Arizona you don't make an appointment.  You get your number and wait.  I was called to the window before the lady had let go of the number.  I re-registered my car and had my new license plate in hand in 10 minutes. I got my picture taken and had my Arizona driver's license in hand and registered to vote in five.  California DMV?  Forget it.  You have to make an appointment to get a number to wait.  It takes forever, costs more, and they mail your plates and license to you.  It just seems like Arizona is more organized.  I was only out of the house for maybe an hour and a half with driving time.  I was amazed!

People seem more relaxed here in Tucson.  Like it's too damn hot to be stressed and angry.  And they're nicer than people you would run across in San Diego.  Like today, I was at the Safeway, or Vons Southwest, and a guy smiled and asked me how my day was going.  The other day, I went to a "Tucson Institution" called Eegees.  They do slushies and sammies and I told the cashier I had never been there.  She told me what was popular and what she liked.  She didn't sound like she was forced to do it.  She even pointed out a menu I could take home if I wanted.  When I rented a car, the agent pulled out a map and outlined where I was looking to go instead of selling me the GPS rental.  She also gave me her pen because it was purple and she could tell I liked purple.  I haven't met one person that was rude or indifferent.  Its bizarre.

As far as geography is concerned, Tucson is flat and surrounded by mountains.  Where I lived in San Diego, it was a valley, lots of hills, and windy roads and I would get lost all the time.  Everything here is pretty square and easy to navigate.  I haven't been lost once.  Makes me feel more confident about my move that I am not stuck in one spot because everything is hard to find.  Also...I don't have to get on a freeway or highway to get to the airport.  In San Diego it was the 125 to the 94 to the 5.  Tucson is heaven for a driver like me.

Mom and pop places seem to thrive out here too.  There are the McDonalds, the Chilis, the Pizza Huts.  But there are just as many family owned joints that are making it.  I love that.  San Diego...Not so much.

Big Fatty specifically asked about dust storms.  I have not witnessed one, but there was a "SEVERE WEATHER WARNING" for one that said when it starts, you pull over to the side of the road, turn off your car and lights and wait it out.  Heather in Phoenix told me that if you keep your lights on, someone may try to follow you and rear-end you.  I am sure I will be caught in one eventually, but so far so good.  Everyday that I have been here, there has been some sort of weather warning.  Between the heat and the monsoon storms, it's heat this, flash flood that.  But I am getting used to the heat and everything.  Today it was 90 and I felt like it was cooler.  Well granted 90 is cooler than 100, but I wasn't immediately sweating.

All in all, I would say that Tucson has a small town feeling to it.  I don't feel like everything is so smashed together.  I like the vibe of the city.  OH and people are fat here!  LOL!  I should say fat, a better description would be chubby.  At my old office, we had a ton of itty bitties and a couple chubbies.  In my new office, there are more chubby girls than the itty bittys.  Probably because its TOO DAMN HOT to go outside.  :)

I think that's a good place to stop.  I am digging my new home, I don't miss San Diego so much as I miss my sister and my friends.  But I am finding my nitch here.  I dig it.

I do not, however, love my upstairs neighbors.  I have decided they all weight 700 pounds and are doing Sweating to the Oldies work outs as noisy as they are.  JEBUS!

Five Hours and Fifty-Five Minutes

This is how long it took me to drive from Santee, CA to Tucson AZ.  Derek had worked things out with his job to come with me for a few days because I was overwhelmed.  The long drive and the thought of being alone kicked in and I was stressed out.  So at 4:00 am, Derek and I climbed into BoJo (the car) and set out on Highway 8 towards Yuma.  The animals behaved themselves wonderfully and the drive went off without a hitch.

This drive really had me freaked.  I had never driven further than Palm Springs, and half way home from that trip I was ready to die.  But I managed to keep calm and focused, even after 3 hours of sleep, and not get lost once!  It would actually be hard to get lost since it is one highway for 75% of the time.

We arrived at a Circle K gas station down the street from my new place at 9:55 am.  We stopped so I could pick up another 5 hour energy drink and Derek could get a doughnut.  I called my new place's leasing office and made my way down to sign everything and get the keys.

We got in and I set the litter box up and we unloaded the car of what little contents it had.  I drank what was probably my 10th bottle of water and laid on my new bedroom floor waiting for Todd (the work husband) and Chris (work husband's cousin in law) to arrive with the Uhaul.  They arrived at noon when it was 104 degrees.  I have found that when it is 110, 113 degrees, 104 is damn nice.  I never thought I would ever walk outside ant it be 100 degrees, I would think wow, it's nice out.

Todd, Chris, and Derek unloaded the Uhaul in record time, an hour tops.  I started unpacking, made the bed, found towels for the boys so they could shower.  Derek played Mario Kart while Todd and I joked about co-workers and laughed.  Then came the goodbye I didn't want to make.  I took Todd and Chris to the airport.  Over the last six years, I have considered Todd to be my best friend.  He was my work husband.  He made sure I was ok.  And here I was, hugging him good bye telling him that his next wife better not be a bitch.  I really hope that he and I keep in touch.  I love the kid.  He is a kind soul.  He's just a good man.  I miss seeing his mug already.

On Derek's last full day here in Tucson and my third day here, we decided that we would go to this 32,000 square foot antique place up the road and maybe find me a dresser.  We went to lunch and as I got back on the road, my battery light came on.  I said, what the fuck!  by the time I finished that sentence, my check engine and oil light came on and the car died.  I managed to get BoJo to the side and luckily there was a tree!  We waited for the tow truck to take us to my local Chrysler dealership.  The good news is, Bojo didn't break down on my way here.  The bad is it cost $1,300 to fix him.  The CPU that feeds the power to the car died.  I am so glad my new commute is less than one mile.

So I dropped Derek off at the airport on Wednesday and came home and slept.  The heat does take a lot out of you and plus I hadn't slept right due to the move, being in a new place, and dealing with Jazzmin who has decided that meowing at 4 in the morning is fun.  Early Thursday morning, I experienced my first monsoon storm.  Thunder, lightning, and rain that fell so hard, I thought it was hailing.  Eddie, a twitter pal and a Tucson resident, said I will learn to love them.  It just scared the shit out of me.  The thunder shook the house.

I went to work on Thursday and met my new co-workers.  It is a very small department right now.  And the building set up is so bizarre.  But I feel good about the people I am going to work with.  They seem to have my sense of humor and really made me feel welcome.  I don't regret my move at all.  I do miss Derek and my friends a ton, but I feel good about my choice.

I was supposed to start work on the third, but because of license issues, I can't start until Tuesday.  All this time off has me a little bored.  And with it being 113 yesterday, I don't feel like climbing into my car and heading out.  So I am learning how my direct TV works and playing Mario Kart.  Looking at different places on Yelp that I want to go to, waiting for it to be cool enough to take Maggie out to play.  Who knew 100 degrees would be cool enough.  It is currently 12:41 am as I write this and it is 92.  Ugh.  Everyone told me, it would be hot, but Christ on crutches!

So, while Derek was here we made it a point to visit different places while he was here.  I was surprised how open he was to try different things.  Instead of immediately shunning things, he gave it a try.  We ate at little mom and pop places and talked about us a lot.  It was really like how he and I were in the beginning.  We both have let so much of our anger and frustration go and found we really do have love and adoration for one another and both want to share that with each other.  I miss him terribly.  He is coming to visit at the end of the month.  Then he will move here at the end of August.  Just in time for our divorce to be final LOL!  But Derek has said he is going to ask me to marry him again.  I can't explain how I feel to know that Derek fought for me once and was willing to do it again.  I know he loves me and I am sad that I ever doubted that.  But whatever is out there has given us a second chance to be together.

My friends, a magical thing happens when two people find each other that normally wouldn't have.  If you know in your heart that what you feel is right and true, I say chase after it.  We all deserve to be happy and complete.  You never know where you will find the person who sparks that happiness inside you.  If could be in the produce department at Vons, It could be someone standing in line with you at the DMV, it could be someone you met on the internet.  I believe things happen for a reason and have purpose.  If you are lucky to recognize the chance presented to you, embrace it!  Even if the happiness is just for one week, one month, forever, embrace it.  This has been the lesson I have learned over the last few months and I share that with you my listener pals, my friends.

http://youtu.be/yAiHve2JZvU - Samson, Regina Spektor (with lyrics)

A return to blogging and transcriptions

After learning that a friend of mine has lost the majority of his hearing, I immediately thought about how I was going to keep him involved in my life.  My poor neglected blog was the first thing that sprung to mind.  So this blog will now become a loose transcript of what my podcasts are.  For my dear friend and for anyone else who cares to read.

Today, I was driving to the mechanic when Backstabber, by the Dresden Dolls came on.  I am a big fan of Amanda Palmer and have always loved this song.  Problem with me and songs is I always relate them to something or someone.  I have "dedicated" Backstabber to several people.  Mostly women.

Growing up, I don't think I ever had a good relationship with another woman.  I think this may relate to the daddy issues I have.  Women are too competitive and extremely judgey.  Of course, this isn't every woman and I am being extremely general.  I am speaking from my own experiences and only those.  I would hope I don't fall into this category, but I know I have more than a time or two.

I have very few female friends and it takes a lot to let a female into my "circle."  I am always guarded when it comes to actually befriending another woman.  My experiences have not been pleasant.  I all too often throw my heart into the ring, only to have something happen that leaves me crushed.  A prime example of this is Gina.  I wrote a blog about Gina some time ago, but I can't seem to find it.  I met Gina in the 10th grade and we immediately hit it off.  Her and I became fast, and best friends and spent a lot of time together.  Gina and I got our first jobs at the same place, spent at least six out of seven days of the week together, and lived together on three separate occasions.

During high school, a mutual friend of our told me that Gina had been sleeping with our married boss.  I didn't believe her.  I asked Gina and she swore on anything it wasn't true and the friend was jealous of our friendship and trying to split us up.  I went to this girl's house ready to beat some ass.  How dare anyone make Gina sound like anything less than goodness and light!  I confronted the girl and she stuck to her story.  I told her I couldn't be her friend if she was going to lie and Gina and I continued on our friendly way.

Five or six years later, Gina and I were living together and she got pregnant.  The father had no job, no car, other children from different women, sold and did drugs.  She let him move in without asking .  He hated my cats, he didn't think he should have to contribute to cleaning or paying any bills, and he was letting people in and out of the house.  It was miserable.  When our lease was up, I moved out.  I gave my rent and bill money to Gina and said adios.  Gina didn't pay the rent that month.  A year later, I had collections calling me for the $600 balance when the deposit couldn't cover the rent.  Gina was no where to be found.  I coughed up the funds.

Gina emailed me about a month later and her message was like we were still thick as thieves.  Of course, I address the money and she disappears again.  I just let it go.  Obviously she needed the money.  With a new son and a worthless baby-daddy, it wasn't worth fighting about.

I got together for lunch with another mutual friend of mine and she said her and Gina had a "truth day."  They got together and asked one another questions and they answered then honestly.  Turns out Gina was sleeping with the married boss.  And had lied straight to my face about it.  I was devastated.  Not only because she lied, but I left another friendship in the dust because I thought she was lying.  It was one of the times that really broke my heart.  I have since apologized to the person who was truthful, but what does it even mean almost ten years later?

A couple years ago, I learned Gina had breast cancer and wanted to reconnect.  I have decided not to.  I am sorry she has to experience it, I feel worse for her sons because, from what I understand, she may not make it more than five years.  I feel for her as a person, but the Gina I was friends with didn't exist.

There have been others along the way that have earned their Backstabber "dedication."  I have let it affect how I make friends, especially with women.  In addition to the competitiveness and judgement, i also find that I don't have a great deal in common with women.  I find that I would rather drink and party with the boys because I don't have to worry about them knit-picking what I say, do, or wear.  Some say my friendships with gay men is just like befriending a woman.  I think that statement is hilariously inaccurate.  Those boys love me for me, and that's it.  I don't think I have ever had that with a female, and don't think I could.

My biggest blessing and my biggest curse is that I wear my heart on my sleeve and will love anyone who will let me.  I have met some outstanding people and a few bitches and assholes.  I can't stop reaching out to people because I am afraid they are going to hurt me.  I might miss out on a really great human being if I live that way.

Another subject - my internet/podcasting pals.

It is easy to say I love you or I adore you online without any meaning behind it.  I do throw around the term "I love you" pretty loosely.  I will say that I have a genuine affection for anyone who has taken the time to listen to something I say or read something I wrote.  There are some of you that I correspond with on a regular basis that I genuinely care for, love, and/or admire.  There are also a handful of you that have broke my heart.  Just keep in mind that while it is easy to put a persona out there, there are human beings behind it.  And sometimes things said or not said, done or not done, hurt just as much.

To go out on a good note- With my move to Tucson, I feel like I am in for a new batch of people that could change my mind.  I don't plan on letting my past experiences taint what relationships I could have with whomever I may meet.  I am very excited about that.