(1) I'm still on Chicago time so I'm only sleeping until 11.
(2) What the hell else am I going to do?
So upon waking up from a dream that just left me sad and wanting to write so I wouldn't have to think about what the not so hidden meanings were attempting to convince me. Also it made me want to draw. I should put this out here right now, I am no artist. My 'sketches' are bored little doodles and my own take at the tattoos I want on my body. The thing I did want to draw, or really, touch up is the next tattoo on my list; my memorial tattoo.
My maternal grandfather died back in 2002, when I was twelve. It wasn't until a little while later I realized exactly how much he meant to me. Don't get me wrong, I was never a spoiled little kid that took the people around her for granted. I was in no position to do so. Both my parents worked hard, I was an only child, and there weren't many kids in the neighborhood where I grew up. It was just my grandfather and I until I was old enough to go to school and attempt to socialize with other children. Hard to be the only kid with no immediate cousins or other children. But that's all another story for another day. Only one emo story at a time.
I wasn't usually allowed outside unless supervised by Max, my grandfather's German Shepherd. In a brief explanation I didn't grow up in the best neighborhood, it was fine in the day, but things started to change. I miss it though. We lived in a three family house; my grandfather and aunt lived on the first floor, my parents and I on the second, and a family friend on the third. My great grandfather had built the house and the two other houses next to it. Of course there had been modern updates and new locks and windows had been put up over the years. My grandfather knew I was the easiest kid to make happy and gave me the old skeleton keys from the houses. I have the oddest obsession with skeleton keys and thus where the idea for the tattoo stemmed from.
The tattoo would be of a skeleton key, a combination of the keys from the old house and ones I have been given over the years. Aside from being just for my grandfather it would also represent my past. Our old house and all the memories it held. While I moved out of the house while still young my grandfather was living in it until the year before he passed away. The same year my aunt moved out and we sold the house. I was still visiting it until then. A lot of things happened within those walls and good or bad they have shaped who I am. Thus the want for the skeleton key. Skeleton keys were made to bypass over certain molds (or whatever you would call them) within a lock to unlock doors. My skeleton key is the same, it has gotten me through a lot and opened many doors-some that shouldn't have been opened. Along with that I want the numbers 1290 attached to the key. That bit is still in process. I have two designs the first would have the numbers simply over the body of the key while the other was attached to a small paper tab tied to the key. The number was my old address and, as a friend pointed out, the day (12) and year (1990) I was born. It's a big deal and I want to get it right. I also want to actually have my mother's blessings for it.
My mother, who i love to death, is anti-tattoos. Well, on my body anyway. She appreciates them sometimes, although she pretends not to on certain occasions and is dead set against me having any, although she's realizing more and more that I am going to have them no matter what she says. Needless to say she does not know about the two I currently have. Big rebel, i know.
Now this whole things went off on a bit of a tangent. What I was saying was I woke up sad and looked for things to cling to. I thought more about the tattoo today then threw myself into cleaning. My friend Stephanie (the one who convinced me to start blogging with her) is coming from St. Louis to visit little old me. So I seriously needed to the second floor before her arrival. Not that things have been a mess, but eh. Also when I throw myself into cleaning the bathroom I get rid of things at a wonderful pace. I scrub, I wash, I find wonderful lotions hidden away by my mother who uses my bathroom as storage for all the bath items people give as gifts. Also it's nice to hide in the bathtub and just close my eyes to think. Although I had to open a window because the smell of windex was making me a wee bit light headed. In all I got some nice thinking done. Thinking that I'm writing down now while sitting on the floor of my bedroom that I should be cleaning at the moment. Oh well, can't win it all.
Things I have realized about changes:
(1) Hells Bells, I missed having black hair. I'm not sure what it is about it. It makes me feel more in control of my life. My eyes pop out more, make me feel that there is something people will see besides the dark circles beneath my eyes. I feel powerful, maybe a bit dangerous. A placebo effect perhaps, but sometimes the placebo is the cure all.
(2) I really need to stop worrying about being alone. As in relationship wise. Obsessing over it doesn't change anything. So I'm not meant to be in a relationship right now, okay whatever. So all of my roommates always are with their boys or with the ones that fawn over them. Okay, I can deal with that because I have single friends that live on the floor above me that miss seeing me. Problem solved...
(3) Speaking of problems I need to realize I cannot solve them all. This year I became a lot better at realizing that. I severed ties with one person who I'd been in (what my friends have termed) an 'abusive' friendship for the past four-five years. Speaking of abusive friendships I recently left another one. That one was hard to end considering the individual and I had been friends our entire lives. One misunderstanding and she calls me out on never being there for her and changing. Funny how that goes. This was when I realized some things I cannot fix. I left the ball in her court and she refused to acknowledge any fault, so there you go.
(4) What's worth saving? That is a real question to ponder. Something I've been obsessing over. Not just what is worth it, but how to save it. I have a friendship currently having in a strange balance. I know you're thinking "What the hell has she done to get all these people pissed at her?" Trust me I sometimes ask myself the same thing. I'm pretty good at admitting when I am at fault. In this instance I am at partial fault, but so is he. This is another case of misunderstanding. We're okay last I checked (the beginning of break) according to him. I, however, know he's lying out of his ass and he's still upset with me in some way. Is this friendship worth saving? A resounding yes. How do I save it? I have no idea. How to I figure out why he's mad? At this point I'm just waiting. I've gotten a few opinions/ideas from other friends and they all come to the source that it has to do with the trifecta from hell. Also known as the connection between myself, the friend, and the friend's girlfriend. A mess? I will just nod in agreement because there are no words to do this mess justice.
(5) Speaking of apologies, how do you deal with a drunk, crying girl who tells you they just want to be the best of friends and do girly things when you cringe at the thought. I have no problem being cordial to this person, but going to get my nails done and swapping silly girlie stories just will never work. For various reasons. One of them being while I do not hate this person, I can't being myself to take them seriously-thus not being able to truly respect them. That and I just have a general distrust of her. So what do I do about it? I smile and suck it up. I can hear you now, "Why Luci? What kind of dumbass are you that you'd put up with this person you obviously aren't fond of? Why act two faced?" Well dear reader, it's not being two faced if I'm civil. I try to be civil to everyone. As to why I would simply smile and suck it up? Friend code. How does the friend code apply in this case? The girlfriend of a friend.
(6) The friend code. That statement says it all about change. I wish someone had written it down because over the years tweaks come into the friend code on what can and can't be done. After all, we all grow up and rules change a bit. I just wish I had more than just my own opinion to run with in these cases.
That's where I'll leave you for tonight unless I have a brilliant revelation. Which I highly doubt will happen. Off to more cleaning.
Well, that's a lie. I will leave you with one more thing since I was explaining in my first post I was a writer with a horrid train of thought (which you have witness in this post).
A thought from my current project and something I have stated in my own life (although you'd have to replace shotgun with knife to talk about my experience).
"You know, I always tried to figure out what was wrong with me. I suppose the part of my brain that was suppose to comprehend fear never really worked. It became obvious at times like this. I mean, most people would be afraid of someone leveling a shotgun at their head. I just got pissed."
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