Monday, October 06, 2008

Six Feet Under: Reaching back in time

I was recently going through some old posts on my secret blog, and found a link to something I posted on HBO’s “Six Feet Under” Forums, which I spent a lot of time on while the show was running. It was therapeutic for me… both the show itself, and working out some of the feelings I was going through during that time. It’s interesting to note that more than 5 years ago I was still struggling with things I needed to say even back then, that never were addressed until just recently. Of course, things have gone in a direction I’d never have imagined, but at least I was finally able to find the courage I needed. It took years, but at least it happened. The names had been changed when I penned the post, to protect… well… everyone.

http://boards.hbo.com/topic/Six-Feet-Archives/Death-Loss/618?&start=243&tstart=0

Re: Death and Loss
May 13, 2003 4:38 AM [post (1438 of 1684)]

My most recent loss of a loved one was the very sudden and unexpected death of a friend I’d known since junior high school, and only a few months younger than me, in November, 2001. For many years, she and her family were more like my own than the people I share DNA with—they were the ones I spent holidays with, lived and interacted with daily… my daughter is even named for the deceased’s older sister (we’ll call them Shelly and Kate; Shelly being the deceased). It has been one of the most intense experiences of my entire life, and has caused me to spend a whole lot of time in self-examination and reflection. May I say right now how glad I am that SFU (and the board here) exists, and provides me with a forum to get some things out that might sound a bit looney anywhere else?

In addition to the sibling-ish familial ties that developed over the years, when I was in my late 20s I had a rather roller-coaster, on & off and passionate romantic relationship with Shelly & Kate’s younger brother Mike, who was in his mid-twenties back then.

We’d been best of friends for about 4 years (while the girls were raising small children we were single, child-free and in a rock band together, woo hoo!) when it just so happened that we were both between relationships and we found ourselves out on a Valentine’s Day date (my first ever—I was twenty-seven, how pathetic is that?) When he kissed me goodnight that night, it did NOT feel incestuous, as I had feared it would when he asked for it.

Lots of things happened over the next 3 years, and by April of 1992 this man was the one who had my heart, and to this day I say he’s the one who taught me how to truly love, and how to be in a healthy relationship; primarily because in hindsight I see that the mistakes I made with him are fatal to a healthy one. Shelly had always known and accepted how I felt about Mike, while Kate totally disapproved and pretended it wasn’t happening—unfortunately, after breaking up once, we enabled her denial by sort of keeping our relationship under wraps from her when we were seeing each other again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Our relationship ended abruptly, yet without any confrontation between us, when I found out from Kate he’d knocked up this girl he’d been seeing and was marrying her (In this scenario, he’s Nate, she’s Lisa and I’m Brenda LOL). He avoided me at all costs, and in deference to the fact that they were HIS actual family, I stayed away on holidays and lost my close connections with the rest of the family.

The next time I laid eyes on him was the day after Shelly died nearly 10 years later, and my heart broke all over again. I’d scarcely spent any time at all with Shelly because of the situation with Mike, and now she was gone forever. Dammitall we were supposed to be crazy old ladies together, and regale our grandchildren with stories from our heydays in the 80s as rocker chicks!

Kate had taken all of Shelly’s things from her apartment, to spare her husband’s having reminders everywhere (instead, Kate had a dining room full of reminders). Two months after Shelly’d gone, Kate and I went through her things and spent the day laughing, crying and reminiscing. Among her possessions were pictures of Shelly, her hubby, Mike & I when life was good and we were all young, in love and enjoying ourselves together. I sobbed like a baby thinking to myself, “She knew how much I loved her, it shows in our faces here.” But I also felt SO guilty for letting Mike’s inability to face me get in the way of spending time with Shelly…

Worst of all, I still to this day cannot bring myself to address all of this with Kate. As far as I know, she believes that what was between Mike & I all those years ago was little more than a fling followed by a bit of drama (because I am a damned good actress, by God!) that has been forgotten. In fact, he was probably the greatest love of my life, and had I not met my husband 8 years ago I’d likely still be pining away for Mike today.

Shelly’s death hammered home how important it is to make time to let the people you love know it, even if it means risking an uncomfortable situation. At the same time, she gave me an opportunity to come clean with two of the people I love the most…

Trouble is, I’ve yet to find the courage to do so. :(

I got a response from a great gal, “Xtreemli,” who’d suffered the loss of her 17 year old daughter rather recently, in a terrible car crash. She was one of my favorite contributers to the SFU boards, and someone I hope I can find again someday soon on this giant network, the world wide web. I think of her often and wonder how she is and what she’s been doing…

Re: Death and Loss
May 13, 2003 1:05 PM [post (1441 of 1684)]

Shelly’s death hammered home how important it is to make time to let the people you love know it, even if it means risking an uncomfortable situation. At the same time, she gave me an opportunity to come clean with two of the people I love the most…

Trouble is, I’ve yet to find the courage to do so.

rox,
Hang in there. It’s not so much about courage. I sense you have plenty of that. Like Brenda said, it’s about timing. When the time is right, you will know what to do.

She was right… it’s about timing. It took me until about a year ago to finally come clean with “Mike,” and it ended up working out just fine. “Kate,” on the other hand, apparently never did care what my true feelings were, because in the end her distaste for the idea of my being with her brother, no matter how much I truly care for him and wanted to be with him was outweighed by her feelings that by “disrespecting” her in my refusal to acquiesce to her demands that I choose between her continued friendship and what my heart was telling me was right: to follow my heart and give ourselves a 2nd chance at a relationship that was on the up & up, rather than a secret that was forced upon us due to the disapproval of someone who, in the end, wasn’t really a part of it and whose feelings about it shouldn’t have mattered in the least. I guess the sad truth is that there are any number of people whose love is, in fact, conditional. It’s not in my nature, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to comprehend how it can be so in others… especially those who claim to be Christians. It’s for these people that the bumper-sticker axiom “Jesus Would Slap the Shit Out of You” was created.

I suffered in silence for years for my complicity in the subterfuge and deceit I played along with in order to have a relationship with someone I truly loved. Now I’m just too fucking old to play those kind of games, and if I’ve learned anything over the past few years it’s that no matter how far out of my way I go to make other people happy, the end result is that I’m the one left holding the bag and dealing with the misery. It’s my life… and if anyone doesn’t like how I live it or how I choose to talk about it, that’s their fucking problem and they can stay the fuck out of my life - which includes taking it upon themselves to pontificate with their self-righteous bullshit opinions to anyone who’ll listen; especially people who are mature enough to remain my friends because they know it’s none of their goddamned business how I choose to conduct my love life.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

In Honor of Banned Books Week

My video celebration of the freedom to READ!!!

Here’s what I dicked around with here & there today, while B went to church with a couple friends who’ll be moving away soon…

If you want any of these books, let me know! They’re in the “donate” category here at OBHQ.

Update: I tried to upload this video to MyspaceTV and it got BLOCKED for “infringement” due to the background music. For-fucking-give ME… it’s not like I used the song without attribution, nor am I using it to sell anything, goddammit! You see… this is how it happens, the “boiling of the frog.” It is not government, but the megacorporations who’ve got the government in their pockets that are using their power to restrain our speech… for NOW. We stand for it, then get used to it, and give away our most cherished rights and freedoms because we’ve trusted others to tell us how we can and cannot exercise them.

This is America. ”Somewhat free” speech is NOT enough!

Friday, May 30, 2008

What’d we learn today?

Since the chances of this being seen anytime soon, at least by anyone it might matter to, are somewhere between slim & none, why not go off on a bit of a tangent? Maybe it’ll turn into a rant, and maybe it’ll just be more stream-of-consciousness that no one but me will give a rat’s ass about (except perhaps when I’m dead). I rant on my blog on Myspace and it starts fucking drama (usually because of people offering their negative 2 cents worth, rather than just being supportive when I’m clearly just having a bad day and a hissy fit). If by some chance you’re here shortly after I post this, don’t post anything judgemental, moralizing or even “just an opinion” regarding MY life and MY decisions - and not expect me to come un-fucking-glued and attack you in whatever way I see fit.

I’ve lost my house, my marriage to a man I’ve been with for 14 years is over, I’m so physically fucked up I can’t earn a decent living right now, and I’m still having to deal with drama queens who mess with me and expect me NOT to lay a shitstorm at their feet. That I’m “a bit stressed” is the understatement of the year. At some moments, “homicidal” is an understatement! What, are we in fucking high school? Divorce is ugly, messy and an emotional rollercoaster even when all involved parties are mature adults… add in a few loose cannons who revel in the misfortune of others and lower themselves to the sort of antics teen girls engage in and it becomes downright disgusting. It’s interesting (and would be amusing if it weren’t so damned sad, really), but the people I’ve pissed off the most (excepting, of course, the husband I left) are those I’ve confronted with a demand that they prove what they claim as “truth.” Shit, I’ve stood by my words… even knowing they hurt some people… because to not do so would make me a liar and a fraud. People can call me a LOT of things (even some really bad things) and maybe hit upon a few that are true, but “liar” is certainly NOT one of them. I’ve told the truth to my own detriment more times than I can count, because lies never do anything but make a bad situation worse. The truth might put me in a bad light to others, but being dishonest would make me hate mySELF, and that’s so much more important than what other people think—especially those who’d like nothing better than to see me fail, and better still if I can suffer while I go down.

Today while chatting with a friend, we touched upon something I guess I hadn’t really thought too much about until now: my disappointment in there just being no “fight” in the man who claimed he wanted to be with me forever. He didn’t fight to keep me (striving for more, showing me the growth I wanted to see would’ve counted) when I was there and telling him what I wanted and expected; he chose flight over fight when I told him I wanted to separate, and just bailed with his few belongings as though he didn’t have 8 years worth of whatever in our house that needed to be wrapped up, too; hasn’t even mentioned in a fit of emotion maybe fighting the man he thinks I left him for (which I didn’t, but still… territorial issues and all… doesn’t every man just want to kick the ass of the “new guy” no matter what?) and at no time between my leaving and now has he even asked what, if anything, he might possibly do to “win” me back. Then again, it’s entirely possible that he’s just relieved; glad he doesn’t have my expectations to live up to… in which case his just walking away and giving up without any fight whatsoever makes perfect sense. If that’s how it is, I’m not sure how I feel… For starters, I guess it’d sorta piss me off, because it would seem he’s playing up his victim role for the benefit of others - he’s hurt by my leaving, but not so much as to care enough to even ASK whether there’s anything he might do to fix those things that I couldn’t live with? I may have been the one to leave, but that certainly doesn’t mean I’m immune to the heartbreak, or to feeling unwanted and a failure.

Fuck, if anything, I deserve to feel that way MORE than he does… I begged and begged for him to hear me and change things because I saw it going South, and everything I said fell upon deaf ears. It was only when I brought my conflicted feelings about another man (which wouldn’t even have arisen, had we reached some sort of compromise in our marriage before then) into the conversation that he finally realized just how serious the breach had become, and by then it was too late. I asked for a separation, he wanted (after being counseled by family & friends) a straight-up divorce; and I’m giving it to him. Since he’s made it clear that he’s the “same person” he was when I married him all those years ago, and will “never be any different,” I’d be a fool to even consider a reconciliation (an offer which, I’ll reiterate, is neither forthcoming from him, nor mine to put on the table). I left because I needed a mature, responsible man and he wasn’t making the cut - and now says I should never have expected him to ever grow up, really. What possible purpose would be served by signing on for more of the same? And from what I gather from his own comments, my having sex with someone else is what makes our differences officially irreconcilable to him. I’m pretty annoyed (and maybe even a little hurt) by that, I must say… but now I think to myself, “Are you so surprised? A man who’s not only content with, but rather proud of, saying that he’s no different today than he was at the age of 22, has shown himself (more than once) to be primarily concerned with the sexual aspects of his wife’s estrangement and their failing marriage. Go figure!” Then again, I may just be “full of myself,” as he claims I am; and in reality his pointed interest in whether or not I’ve had sex with someone new isn’t really about me at all, but about his feeling like he’s now officially free to go off and stick his poor, neglected (by me, all these past months) dick into the next redhead that strikes his fancy with a clear conscience. Git on wit’ your bad self then, boy… just keep your shit tightly wrapped, since whatever hole you’re sticking it into has likely been plowed by a fair number of other swaggering cocks (including some you know) during the past 14 years of your/my monogamy. Wouldn’t want you to get far more than you’ve bargained for!

Two men, same situation: Life in shambles, marriage over, family ripped apart. After consideration and the counsel of loved ones, each decides upon a course of action to repair what damage he can and begin a new, better way of life. One goes off to Jesus Camp, digs ditches, prays and returns a few months later drug-free and committed to doing whatever it takes to put what’s left of his family back together, make amends for what he can and make a better life than he could give his children before. The other guy’s solution is to move in with friends and seek his “healing” in a place where the last thing anyone’s interested in is their life as a responsible parent, acting like a grown-up, or in learning how to be better at anything truly useful (other than pretending to be someone else, which is useful for some people, I guess… like if they get paid for it). A place where it’s the height of success to have as few responsibilities as possible, as few obligations as possible, and as many drunken nights and sexual conquests as one can manage before their genitals explode or they contract HIV because they’re too stupid or just too fucking hammered to be responsible every time they have sex.

Having known them so long, and loving each of them, and (all things considered) in nearly equal measure, is it any wonder that a woman who has certain, somewhat traditional, expectations of what a man’s role in a relationship should be would see Bachelor #1 as more suitable, as more likely to at least come close to fulfilling some of those expectations? Bachelor #2’s behavior is prima facie evidence that he’s neither equipped for nor interested in being a provider, and in fact would seem to be quite happy living a life in which he’ll never be called upon to put aside childish things in order to fulfill the sorts of obligations so many other men see as their duty, and take pride in doing.

In the cold light of day, I suppose that little story is an illustration of what’s truly at the heart of the matter in the choice I made. It would have been nice to feel as though I, and my marriage, was worth fighting for… worth some hard work at a thankless job… to keep. But as time goes by, I just see more evidence that I/it wasn’t… not to him anyway. For years I fought (and worked) as hard as I could to make it successful, in the only way I knew how. Now, in the end, I see that what was worth so much to me for so long, wasn’t worth a moment’s fight or a moment’s hard labor (that is, maybe doing some less than pleasant things that might have healed the breach - marriage counseling comes to mind). And yeah, I’m still disappointed, often really fucking angry and always just plain SAD about that. His having waited to get some sort of okie-doke to get laid is no comfort in the face of the harsh reality that his marriage and the wife he claimed to “love more than anyone or anything” was less important than his own desire to flee the scene and “forget,” absolving himself of any responsibility because he’s been “crushed” by my leaving and is therefore justified in… no, virtually obligated to find comfort wherever and in whatever manner he can, in the interest of the all-important “moving on.” Well, that’s what his friends and family want him to do as quickly as possible anyway, so I guess it works out.

Eh, I suppose doing all that’s probably been far easier for him than it would have been to, y’know, like step up during our marriage or doing something equally as indicative of things meaning to him as much as he claims they mean/meant.

But what the fuck do I know? I’m just a woman, and a stupid one at that. Well, not so stupid anymore, I guess… since I’ve become so enlightened today on important matters that are no longer important to anyone but me.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Religion: Comedy by Marcus Brigstock (video)

Hat tip to Gadfly for this… it’s always good to find new comedians!

It may be a comedy bit, but Mr. Brigstock makes some brilliant observations about how ordinary religious people are responsible for propping up insane, power-mad leaders who’d be in psycho wards if not for the support of their faithful followers. Never mind how Christians, Muslims and Jews take any criticism whatsoever as an attack on their faith.

Damn good shit! The comments on Gadfly’s blog are friggin’ priceless, too

Time for me to go to bed… thanks for stopping by…

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

“There will be consequences”: ONE FINAL INDIGNITY

One last crushing blow from the corporate fucksticks to whom I gave almost a decade of my life and loyalty, shrinking my current job market options by a significant amount. A pox upon those who lied to me… they know who they are.

Eighteen months after losing a job I’d held for 6 years, in a Company I’d been with for nearly 10, I was recently offered the perfect position by a former co-worker who’s now working in a different division of the Company. Unfortunately, it seems that although I was told verbally that I was not banned from ever working for the company (that was the ONE question I asked the HR rep during my “exit interview,” because the Company is one of the largest employers in my area, not to mention my particular field), I signed away my future when I agreed to something I apparently missed, saying I’d not seek employment with them. Ever.

I called the HR rep who’d told me I wasn’t banned from the Company, and asked if there was some way to officially appeal that clause. For fuck’s sake, it’s not like I was terminated for embezzlement, or an EEOC violation, or some other nefarious deed… I took the fall for a series of errors, including some that weren’t made by me, because in the end the Process put the responsibility squarely upon my shoulders and any future I might ever have with the Company was utterly destroyed by my failure to send one email.

The former co-worker for whom I would have been working at my dream job was as surprised as I was to learn that I was ineligible for rehire at the Company, as are most others who found the circumstances of my termination political, unjust (or simply “so fucked up!"). Regardless, I have neither the time nor desire to mourn or avenge my being fucked in the ass - no kiss, no grease - by the Company as a soulless entity, and most disappointing of all by people who failed to speak up for me when they could (and should) have. My heartfelt gratitude goes out to the people who saw how things went down and have expressed their outrage and sympathy. To those who were complicit in my being railroaded: Kindly go fuck yourselves.

In the end, once again I shall take full responsibility for exactly where I did, indeed, screw the pooch. I should have gotten a lawyer before I signed anything. It was a grave error to have ignored what I know to be true: that there are certain people in every company who, despite their assurances to the contrary, never do anything that isn’t in the best interests of the Company (or their own careers). I should have put more of my salary into my retirement and pension accounts, because as I’m cashing them out in order to survive, I’m finding they don’t amount to much in comparison to the years of blood, sweat and tears I put into my years in various jobs with the Company… and the cash-out payments are hardly compensation enough for the depression, pain and humiliation of being blackballed from a Company where any number of people in the position to do so would gladly hire me based on my experience and recommendations; nor the anxiety and worry of trying to survive on Unemployment Insurance in Southern California.

Oh well, no turning back now… Why Bother? I suppose I can always go back to porn