Chapter 42: Undesired Information

So, I’m a little weirded out right now. I’m not quite sure how I’m processing some new information that I got tonight. Two things. First is first okay? All right, so I made a trip to my happy place tonight, I needed a little boost in moral. I run into Baby Face which, since I am his stalker that wasn’t too difficult to do, actually he was right by the door when I came in. So we start talking and he says, “What was with that message you sent me?” Let me recap for you. So the last day of school for the county was this past Friday, so I thought I would be funny and text Baby Face and say, “The great Alice Cooper once said, ‘school’s out for summer, school’s out forever.’” I laughed at myself, I’m a genius. So not too much longer after that Baby Face replies with a “ha-ha”. I thought that meant he got it. Instead he’s been festering in confusion for a good 4 days! As soon as he asked what was up with it I got a red flag and I said, “Alice Cooper,” in case I forgot to write the first part of my ingenious text message, “Do you know who Alice Cooper is?” He gets a little shy, “no”. What the? It took me a moment to come out of shock and then I say something about how I must be old, I assumed everyone knew who he was. He asks me when it came out and I told him the 70’s and he says, “oh well that explains it” and I told him that I wasn’t around in the 70’s and I knew about it, his response, “Yeah I know you were born in the 60’s” to which I hit him and yet, at the same time I pitied him. It’s like the kids who didn’t know “Walk like an Egyptian”(I did write about that right?), I mean, what do you do with people like that? So I saw Poof Daddy and Wiggum and I asked them if they knew who Alice Cooper was. I knew that Wiggum knew, I was really only asking Poof Daddy and they both said yes and then asked if I did. Of course I do, but I explained that someone didn’t know and I didn’t want to say who it was because I didn’t want him to be embarrassed. It didn’t take long for them to get it out of me, I think I held out 2.5 seconds. But I made them promise that they wouldn’t say anything. Poof Daddy was saying that he was going to hit Baby Face because he didn’t know who Alice Cooper was (what it would be like to actually think like a guy) and Wiggum told him that I never told him that, so he couldn’t hit him. Apparently Baby Face doesn’t really listen to Rock and Roll…what else is there?
Okay, now on to the seconds. When I first ran into Wiggum and Poof Daddy, Wiggum pulled me aside because he had something to tell me. He got engaged. I know the woman he got engaged to, she’s really nice. The only problem is, Wiggum is a year younger than me and his new fiancée is at least 40 years old. We’re talking Demi and Ashton here, except they aren’t as beautiful as Demi and Ashton. I had a feeling that Wiggum had a mother complex but I didn’t realize he would actually get hitched to one! At best I thought it would end at flirtation, or casual dating. Of course Wiggum throws in while he’s talking to me that he wanted to tell me because he knew that I would understand and that I was cool with it. Sometimes we say things that we don’t mean, but then we can’t be a jerk and take it back and we couldn’t be a jerk in the first place and say something at the start, so we come across as supportive when in the crevasses of our minds we’re going crazy. I wiggled my hips and said, “Of course I understand, I mean I go for the younger guys all the time.” Not exactly a lie or a joke but it helped to pull me out of the shock enough to act happy for my friend. It’s a new world, and Demi is in, and all of us single ladies must unite or die off. I hope that when I’m 40-pluser I can find a 23 year old to spice things up, unless of course I end up with another 40-pluser and then I’ll be happy, but if I don’t I know where to find some young guys with mother complexes.
I’m just floored by it; I can’t really wrap my mind around it. Part of me feels like I should talk sense into both of them and the other part tells me to back off. If they are happy then that’s all that matters. Who cares that in a few years she’ll be on Medicaid. I can’t really judge because then I think I would be a hypocrite. For a long time I’ve been trying to tell myself that if a woman wants to go for a younger guy then that’s okay because society wouldn’t have a problem with an older guy and a younger girl, so why should they have a problem with the reverse? On the other hand, if I had a 23 year old female friend dating a 40-pluser I think I may still have the same cognitive complications. It sure makes a seven year difference look like a splinter in time. There must be something in the water.

Chapter 41: LIke a worm from the bird

I for the most part get along with Motor Mouth. I really do, I’m not lying. Okay, so maybe that is mostly due to the fact that I have been out of town for a majority of this month. And lately when I’m in town I’ve been over at my parent’s house a lot. But last night I got home from North Carolina and I was in my room, I don’t really remember what I was doing, but I know I had a movie going and I was just ready to fall asleep. In North Carolina 9:30 seemed like 1:30 so I was tired by that time the whole weekend, so being home I was still in that. I was already up half an hour after my weekend bed time and I hear a knock at my door. There’s no guessing who it is, no, really, no guessing, I know who it is. Diva would have called me on the phone and I believe that Jellybean’s boyfriend was here so it certainly wasn’t her. Without realizing it I rolled my eyes and sighed. How long would it be this time? With Motor Mouth it always starts with a simple, “Just wanted to make sure you’re alive” (because I mentioned once that I believed I could die in my room and no one would realize it for days because I always hang out in my room, big mistake, now she’s just got a reason to come to my door at least once a day) or “just wanted to say welcome home.” But she’s got other intentions. Last night she pulled the ‘welcome home’ card and I said ‘thank you’ or whatever you’re supposed to do and then I don’t even remember how she got going but I got to hear about how sick she’s been and how crazy her life is, and how she’s taking too many classes at school. The next two weeks are going to be hell and then she’s got three projects due the week after that (see, I do listen to people, even when I don’t want to). And she’s trying to be nice to Bull (okay, intro of a new character). Pardon me while I introduce you. Bull, why do I call her that? First off, because I keep thinking of someone else’s last name every time I say her first name, that person’s last name happens to be “Bull”. Beyond that, she happens to be full of it, and what do you say when you are too lazy or too polite to complete the phrase “Bull Shit”? That’s right, “Bull”. You still get the idea out without saying the complete phrase and you can even say it to your mom because it’s edited, you know, should your mom happen to be full of it some time. So now you kind of know how I feel about her. And isn’t it odd that Bull and Motor Mouth disdain each other? Two mortal enemies locked in combat with me constantly in the middle. Oh did I mention that Bull and I have to work closely in church? And then there’s the obvious roommate-ship between me and Motor. All of this compiling to wrap me up in drama most of the time that I am at church or at home.
However, Motor Mouth seems to be making an effort to get along with Bull. She tried the “Kill her with kindness” approach and that backfired, I don’t know if she knows it backfired. I do however, because remember, I’m in the middle. Then she decided to just be nice, which I think is helping, I know that it’s helping me to get along with her better because I get to see the ever worsening side to Bull, who I am slowly coming to believe is about 87.4% evil. The fact that she can’t just accept the try on Motor Mouth’s part but rather assume that Motor Mouth is trying to go for world domination, which I personally never even noticed, I don’t mind other people being in charge. The part that kills me is that from the looks of it Bull is also rallying to put herself in the world domination role. All while trying to seduce a man that she cannot have…probably because he’s gay but knows it’s wrong so won’t admit it…oh that was mean, so mean that I would almost take it back if in the deep recesses of my mind it wasn’t the only solution that leaves the world making sense. She probably, no, I take that back, it’s not probably, it is definitely hates Motor Mouth stemming from a prior affiliation with Coz, oh that’s right, the guy I’ve been talking about is Coz. Coz seems to be the kind of guy that once he can have you he doesn’t want you and there’s no way to figure out if he ever wanted you because of this. He’s not shy about going after girls that he doesn’t think he can get, I’ve seen plenty of that. But back to Bull, as I said this hatred stems from Coz, Coz is not all encompassing. I suppose it just happens when two control freaks ram heads. Just seems like a lot of drama over a boy who doesn’t seem interested in attainable women.
But back to the story at hand, whew, we really get off track when we introduce new characters. So, Motor is trying to help out Bull in probably the most extravagant event in the history of the church. I “unfortunately” will be unable to attend due to work obligations, but I hope for budget’s sake that the event turns out well, otherwise what a waste of money. So that was in Motor’s spiel as well. At this point I am leaning against the door frame with one arm inside my room as though if I let go I wouldn’t be able to return. The thing that bugs me a little about Motor Mouth is that when you think the conversation is over and she’s about to say ‘goodnight’ or something, she tries to start a new subject. She’s like a fire you can’t put out. You douse it in water and yet it keeps coming back. Better yet, she’s like those birthday candles that relight. Those are so annoying.

Chapter 40: New Beginnings

So, it’s official, I don’t believe that my dog is ever coming back. Today while cleaning up my room I finished packing up his stuff and I’m not sure what to do with it all. Right now it’s sitting in the laundry room next to my other failed attempt to have a pet, the remains of what my mouse used to live in. I’m hesitant to throw the dog food away, so right now it’s just sitting there. But it’s out of my bedroom and that’s half the battle. I don’t know why I’m saving the stuff; in all honesty I don’t believe that I will ever get another dog. I wasn’t really a dog person to begin with, maybe I’m just not supposed to have pets, period, all I do is lose them and kill them.
So my sister is finally getting married and I know that I need to ask off for the wedding and the bridal shower (mostly because it is up to me being the only sister within a 4 hour drive to throw the bridal shower) but I keep thinking that I won’t be at that job by that point, and I’ll have my Saturdays off with my new job. But I haven’t applied for any jobs, so why do I keep thinking it’ll be that way? I need to e-mail the human resources department for the city and the county and see what I need to do to start teaching but in all honesty I’m scared to death that they’ll let me start right away and I don’t feel qualified to be teaching just yet, but it is something that I want to do, and I know that I don’t want to keep the job that I currently have, even though I love it most days. I love the training, I hate coming up with things to do and I still hate the random schedule (real surprise there). I don’t think I should feel bad about looking for a new job, how long did they really expect me to keep this one? It’s certainly not a career for me, just a job. Teaching, if I do succeed and like it, will be a career. I also shouldn’t feel bad because one of the other trainer’s was telling me how he’s been looking for a new job (not TDH, I think TDH will always be a trainer). It’s just who he is.
But I need to just swallow my fear and apply to the job. I think I would be happier. And you know what? I know it sounds bad but I would have my summers off. What would I like to do with those summers? I would like to go live in some small Podunk town and learn all about the people and write a book about my experiences. I really want to write a book and it occurred to me this weekend (and actually always has been at the back of my mind) that I have no talent for fiction. So maybe non-fiction is my best bet. Even if I can’t actually write a book how would it be to just experience the other side for once? I grew up middle class suburbia, even when we were poor I didn’t know about it, and since then I can pretty much have whatever I want/need. I’m not trying hard to make ends meet, and I lack the ability to be purely interesting. My dad never had a drug addiction, my mom didn’t stay Catholic so there goes any hope of an interesting childhood, and I’ve never really been the rebellious type. I truly believe the principles that keep me grounded so there’s no way I’m going to experiment with anything, I don’t even watch ‘R’ rated movies, because they are “R” for a reason, language or soft porn (let’s face it, that’s what it is now). I just want to see how it really is because you can’t always trust the movies to tell you what life’s like. I think Disney taught us all about distrust when it comes to movies telling you how real life should operate. I just want to be interesting or at least be able to say that I tried.

Chapter 39: Secret Talents

I’m wondering two things right now, the first being why am I about the cry? The second, why is it the beginning of summer and I am freezing? Being a woman can be difficult, we don’t know why the hell we do some of the things that we do.
TDH told me tonight how he used to write for his school newspaper and he gave me the web address to read some of the articles that he wrote. I was reading the first one and it was absolutely fantastic. It was funny and it brought up issues that I have brought up before and I seriously loved it. A very good start to reading some of his “work”, however, it left me misty eyed. I don’t understand it wasn’t sad. A woman’s sadness can hit at any time under any disguise. She could be laughing and suddenly the weight that she has been secretly carrying is jarred loose and come tumbling down over her face. I suppose this kind of thing doesn’t happen to those who openly wear their sadness (like the self pitomizers do), but for people who’d prefer to not let on that they are sad it could attack at any moment. Yeah, I still miss my dog; when I drove up to the driveway the other night after having been out of town for almost a week, sadness swept over me. My dog is gone. I got over it and came into the house. Maybe everything that builds up can secretly come out when you think nothing’s wrong, because you’ve convinced yourself that nothing is wrong. But slapping on a smile when you don’t want to is kind of like sticking a band aid over a gash, you can try to convince yourself that it will do the trick, but the band aid and the gash prove inadequate companions. Wow, digression at it’s finest.
Then I went to go get something to eat because I haven’t eaten all that much today. I sit back down to read some more articles and I’m seriously shivering. I have a hoodie on in June…in Virginia and my teeth are still chattering. But seriously, back to the articles from TDH, I think I may have just slipped into love with him. I say slip because “slip” seems less painful than falling, and is a whole lot easier to recover from. Today I had every intention of not looking at him the way I usually look at him, of not seeing him as a potential because he’s not a potential. I tried my darnedest to just see him as a coworker. Somehow when you make up your mind that something in particular is not something you want it gets easier to show that you want it. Does that make sense? It’s crystal clear to me. When I want something, in particular a boy, it becomes very difficult for me to express myself around that individual. It’s hard for me to be myself. I didn’t really have a hard time being myself around TDH, I think I brought my A-game in the wit department; and I can eat peanut butter crackers in front of him (that’s saying a lot, how many people would you chance eating peanut butter crackers in front of?) My difficulty came in showing I was interested. Sure, I stared too long, I smiled too often, but I always kept a certain physical distance. I’ve never been a good contact flirter.
To speak in all honesty I think tonight is the most physical contact I’ve had with TDH. Even though at times he seemed a bit much with the cocky persona, I simply attributed that to the fact that he lost a very important notebook and this is what he has to do to keep from crying. At one point I told him that he didn’t take compliments well, he let them all go straight to his head. At the end of the night we were trying to figure out someone’s voicemail. She’s a part-time trainer who usually works all by herself in Williamsburg but she’s in town helping us out because we are down a trainer due to a new store opening. I was doing pretty good getting everyone else’s voicemail numbers, the other two trainers I got on the first attempt. But this one was proving difficult. TDH thought he would help by calling out all possible four digit numbers that could lead us to the right inbox. He said 3-0-4-8 and I obediently dialed only to hear my own voice on the other end. I looked up at him and backhanded him in the stomach telling him it was mine. I’ve never play hit him before and tonight I did at least twice. I don’t think I’ve non-play hit him either, but you know what I mean, the elementary school level of flirting. Hit the one you like.
Then we were leaving a note for our manager on her desk and she has a Dilbert day planner (yes please). I love Dilbert so I started to read the cartoon it was open to. I was cracking up before I could even finish, it was probably one of the best ones. This unknown character was talking to someone during an interview for a managerial position and he just kept talking about how he loves to talk and how his ideal job would be one where people where forced to listen to him and just smile and nod. TDH wanted to know what was so funny and I told him I was reading the cartoons and then I said, “This one makes me think of you” so I hand the book over and point to the square where the guy said the thing about smiling and nodding and TDH read it and then laughed and said, “Yes, that’s me”. I know.
Later he had me edit his e-mail and there was a point when I was trying to figure out what tense the word he had should be used and my finger was up, kind of pointing to the words in the sentence as though it were suspended in air as I thought and he said, “oh no,” and started to laugh, I asked him what that was about and he said, “you’re dialing your imaginary phone again, something’s wrong.”
Anyway, when we left the building for the night I walked him to his car as usual, just kidding, but he was parked closest so I did walk him to his car, but this is the first time. We don’t usually talk personally on the way to the cars. We talk about a crazy trainee or what the rest of our week looks like or something like that. Instead I found myself listening to a crazy story about bad bacon, his dog, and a swarm of army flies. It was pretty entertaining, of course after having read his articles I think he was preparing me for his desire to over exaggerate things…sounds like someone I know. Then he starts talking about his notebook and how it had to be in his car because why would he take that into his house and not his other notebook. He starts digging in and I was going to just walk to my car but I asked if he wanted help and he accepted the offer. So I set my stuff on the trunk of his car and climbed into his car looking for his notebook. I didn’t think it would be hard until I entered the landfill, err, I mean, front seat of his car. My first response was that I thought my car was dirty. I was beginning to wonder if he actually lived in a house or if he lived in his car. I also asked him if he had a plastic bag and suddenly my main concern seemed to become more environmental rather than helping him find his notebook. Maybe he wouldn’t lose so many things if he didn’t hang on to every fast food wrapper he’s ever received. I had no idea how I could seriously help him find his notebook in that car since I feared really digging in. I finally just gave up and gathered my stuff and told him I would see him later. As I walked away I told him good luck and warned him not to get hepatitis while in pursuit of the missing notebook.

Chapter 38: Random Thoughts While Sitting in the Airport

I find myself actually missing TDH, which surprises me a little because I thought I was coming to the point where I convinced myself it would never work out, mostly due to the fact that it never would work out. So to find myself missing him is a new thing for me, or more like a revisited thing. Something I had forgotten that I felt once upon a time but somehow the distance seemed to literally pull on a heart string and open a chamber filled with longing. A surprise because it is not a feeling I expected to possess. Not just for him or so much for him, though I do find myself really missing him, but for a lot of things in my life. It’s a weird feeling, like a deep rooted regret of things not said or actions not taken. It literally makes my heart feel heavy. It feels like I have left home for an undetermined amount of time, though I know my return date. At the same time, I don’t know if I want to return home.
I’ve also decided that I’m not the only person who over analyzes life. In those moments when a group of people sit in silence and everyone seems to be looking at some invisible, stationary, hypnotic object everyone is thinking about things in their life. Not that I can ever prove this because even if I decide to be honest in answering the “what are you thinking about?” question, it doesn’t guarantee that other people will make such a commitment and when I ask the question I will only get the answer of “nothing”. The nothing answer I have concluded comes from three roads. The first is the embarrassment road, when a person is left to think or day dream about whatever they want to and then are pulled out by someone trying to inch their way into their minds they are reluctant to admit what they were thinking about so they go for the stock answer, “nothing”; the second road is that when asked they have no idea how to word it, there are so many different thoughts swimming around in their head and they are quickly visiting each one when interrupted and they have no clue how to answer so they say, “nothing”; and finally the third road is the “none of your damn business” road, at which point it’s best not to pursue delving into that individual’s mind.
I just think that for the most part people think about life in general and how they’ve come to where they are at, and as an outsider I have to wonder, “Are they happy?” Has life left them content? I wonder is what they have what they expected from life? Do they feel short-changed or is everything as it should be? You look at people’s faces when they are “zoning out” and it’s not like the norm is having a smirk steal across their face, but they are straight faced and you just have to wonder what is making them so somber?
It makes me think, what is happiness? Can it even be defined? Can it be attained? Is happiness simply something to be hoped for, dreamed about? Have we focused so much on what happiness is to us that when we do not obtain it we are miserable? Maybe the lack of happiness is just within ourselves. If we are unhappy we need to change what we think happiness is. That’s something that I know I will need to work on.
Another thing, why do you whisper when there is no chance people will hear you? There was a couple sitting in the middle of the terminal, no one was around them for three to four rows at least and they were very close together while whispering something. Is the whisper for the intimacy? Because you could have just talked in a low voice, no one would have heard you over the roar of planes taking off, the crying of babies from unseen places, and the regular hustle and bustle of the airport that seems to echo off of the walls.
Oh and another random thought from sitting in the airport, when I die I want my voice box and my lungs removed so I don’t make any noise if for some reason I am stored on the bottom of a plane and my lungs compress and air passes over my windpipes, sounding like a depressed and lonely corpse, just in case I kick the bucket anytime soon, or especially while I am away from home. Didn’t happen to see a coffin on the flight home, however, I was reading a book where one of the main characters had to sit in the cargo of the plane and thought she was going crazy because she could hear someone moaning. Then she came to realize it was the coffin and she freaked out thinking the person wasn’t dead and the pilot told her that with dead bodies in air the lungs compress or depress causing air to move over the vocal chords. Could I please just be silent once I’m dead?