...

(july 09)

this is something I did back in '99. It's pretty big. The background is this smooth velvet watercolor, the rest is done in watercolor pencils. It's about 3 feet tall. A poster! It's been at my Dad's all this time. I almost forgot about it. I got it today. I've been staring at it all day. I'm just thinking, 10 years later, maybe it's a good time to share it. That's all. Happy 4th. Happy FREEDOM day. Freedom!!



...

(march 08)

Earlier this year, I had the recurring dream of attempting to bury a package of seeds. In the dream, I kept wondering, why am I doing this? How can you grow anything if the seeds are all buried in a clump, in a package? Yet I kept doing this, in my dreams.

God brought to mind the fact that I had my journal all wrapped up in a package (literally) and buried away, hidden.

He said, "Release My seeds."

Then, the dreams changed. I saw the package torn open and seeds scattered.

This is when I began to write like there was no tomorrow. It all just came pouring out of me, during this strange time of my life. I have been torn open.

Then, I had this dream a couple months ago: I saw myself standing in a huge pile of seeds, they were covering my feet, they came up to my ankles, they were everywhere! I laughed and reached down and scooped some up in my hands, I was amazed at how many there were.

God has given me clues through the years that He had plans for me, and I have always sensed something mighty, well, He's mighty, and I'm small, that's why when I feel Him it's so overwhelming. It's just this amazing thing inside of me, the Living God. He's so good, people. He is SO GOOD.

So about the seeds. I have been torn open, and I have proceeded to spill out all that was in me, for better or for worse.

That's what I will keep on doing. I have no idea what is worthy and what is trivial. That's up to Him. All I know to do is keep talking.





I'm laying here trying to sleep for a minute till it's time to go pick up my mom, but I can't, cause I just realized I forgot to mention a few things. And it's imperative that I include every detail during this time because I have to remember everything. And you never know, this up and coming season of my existence just might be more fascinating and exciting than the Year of the Mental Blowout. I think they should add that to the Chinese calendar. Some people are Monkeys, and you got your Roosters, then you have your Mental Blowout folks. I love the fact that that happened to me. In fact if I could go back and do it all over again, I might, just not the lumbar puncture. But everything else was fun. Except the seizures. Speaking of seizures, why did I wait so long to tell somebody I was having them? Why did I keep it on the down low? And why did I get rid of my car?

So I wanted to say, I still don't really know where I am located, in relation to my new job. I've never been out that much in that direction. I do have directions memorized to the thrift store, and this is how to get there (this is actually how I remember it:) leave apartments, go left. Keep going till you see the tunnel, but don't go in. Turn right. Keep going until the street comes to a shopping center, and if you were to keep going straight you'd crash into the front doors of Wig Palace. Turn left. Turn right at the Statue of Liberty. For real. A very energetic guy who's dressed like the Statue of Liberty, completely, all silver, even with the spikey crown on his head, dancing on the corner, holding a sign. Turn right. Pass McDonald's, then lo! Look! ...it's the thrift store, on the right! And it is chock-full of so many goodies I can't get over it. That's how I became friends with the girl who runs the counter there. I tell her this is one of the best thrift stores I've ever seen, and she seems to agree, but then again she's stuck working there. I might hate it if I had to work there. Speaking of work, today my mom asked me, Oh by the way Amy, how much are they paying you?

And when she said this, it dawned on me, I didn't even ask! I still don't know! I didn't even think about it. I guess, truth be told, I really don't care. I'm just happy to have a job again.
And the other thing I wanted to tell the whole world is that my ex husband is getting a divorce. Which is perfect timing, now I'll be able to send him some cash to help with the Spawn. This man has been so understanding all this time, for over a year now I haven't been able to contribute at all, and he hasn't said a word. I told him I can't wait to cut him a check. And pay my mom some rent. And send some cash to the Spawn. And start saving for a car. AND GET MORE CUTE CLOTHES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now that I think about it, I do wonder how much they plan on paying me.
My throat is sudden WAIT. Oh great. The maintenance man is here, again. Why does my mother call him so much? Is this
HE'S LAUGHING AT ME!!!!!!!! He just called me in there and goes, LOOK!!! And he was holding a HUGE WAD OF MY HAIR ON HIS PLIERS!!!!!!!!!!! I AM HUMILITATED.
He just goes, who tub is this? You or your mom? And I confessed. I guess it got clogged before I chopped all my hair off. How did my mom know it was draining slow?
He just goes OKEY DOKEY!!! BYE!!! and left. I am going to die. This is like a plumber suddenly showing up with a plunger and heading into your bathroom with no notice and unplugging a huge WAIT my alarm is going off. I need to go get my mom.

MY THROAT HURTS.
My brain is all over the place. I've been taking alfalfa tablets round the clock for a few days now. I'm thinking of like, 10 things at once. Sort of like it used to be. I think my head is waking back up!






Well, you'll never believe what kind of person it looks like I might have become. Just guess. I have turned into one of those people who talk alot to the person who's ringing me up. I don't know how it happened or where it came from. I never used to be like this. But now I have a real-live budding social circle, the girl at the thrift store being my number one. She remembered me today. She was like, you got the job? Cause it was her that rang me up last week (on the day that I SHOULD'VE been getting something to wear on an interview (which I'm glad I didn't, as it turns out I didn't need it) but instead got the block of wood with the peas on it.
This morning was sort of deja vu, I found myself in the drive-thru line at McDonald's again, but did NOT order the number 6. I got the number 3 instead. I don't like combo meals but there's no time to pick and choose what you really want anymore. They rush you through and there's hardly any time to get out your money. I feel very intimidated these days, in a wide variety of situations. The worst is the Wendy's drive-thru, there's not even time to blink. I don't know how they do it.

I love what they wear at my new job. There's no real uniforms, but you have to dress in black and white. As in, black pants and a white blouse. So naturally I stretched this to the limit and made sure everything I got today was super-unique and cute, for example, cute black boots with shiny zippers and they go halfway up my legs. Of course they won't show. But I'll know I'm wearing them and that's all that matters. Finally, a valid excuse once more to wear zippery black leather boots. I...

I HAVE ARRIVED.

Wait. There's something else I was going to say.

(thinking)

....

...





Oh yeah! Speaking of wearing things that nobody knows! When I was typing that above, it made me think of my dreadful days of wearing a sports bra, and then going to this Wal-Mart in order to remedy the situation, and tossing the ugly thing into the parking lot.
That's what I was going to say. Another reason why today was deja vu: I went back to that same Wal-Mart today, and got some really cute unmentionables, and came home and tossed my old ones, including the bra I got to cancel out the sports bra, into the trash. So it's like, the full circle of Wal-Mart and bras. You just don't know. So it looks like I'm steadily climbing the ladder once more, and maybe by next year there will be no need to keep upping things a notch in my wardrobe, maybe by then I'll be all set with the cutest clothing EVER. Like I had when I had an apartment out here (right down the road actually) and I dressed up every day and had the most adorable clothes and shoes ever, but then found out that when you look all steamy and sassy AND live alone, panty thiefs come and break in and do bad things in your apartment, running you off to live with your father for a season, eventually resulting in you getting your own place again but not without first throwing away all your makeup and chopping off your hair in order to deter the curious neighbors who stare while you unload your few belongings out of your Chevy Metro in the broken-glass littered gravel driveway of the garage apartment to the mobile home with the sewage puddle out back that had mosquito larvae in it.

People, just a warning. I'm back, and I'm dangerous. Stand back. No, for real. I mean it this time. There is absolutely NO TELLING what's next.




Last night as I was going to sleep I remembered something that happened when I was little, we were out riding bikes, all of us neighbor kids, that would be a pack of about 7 or 8 kids, and I was the youngest. Those days were different, things were safe, we'd ride all over the place, on bike trails, to the YMCA, to Aunt Stella's Sno Cones, to Edgefield Park, to Polar Bear Ice Cream. As long as we stayed together, we pretty much had permission to go anywhere we wanted.
On this one particular day we were doing the bike trail thing, going up and down the hills, in single-file, and of course I was last in line. I think I was about 6 or 7 years old. I was going along, and I fell, my bike toppled over and I went tumbling, and I remember just laying there, stunned for a minute. Finally I looked up and realized, I was alone, all the other kids were long gone and nobody knew I had fallen.

Then! Next thing I knew, these two hands are under my arms, my bike is set up straight and I'm suddenly sitting on it. Before I could even think twice about it, I looked, and he was gone. It was some kid on a bike, an older boy, and not part of our group. I didn't recognize him, I guess he had been riding a way back behind all of us or something. Anyway, he didn't even say a word to me, just came up, put me back on my bike, then took off down the trail.
I remember thinking "thank you" in my little heart because I couldn't say it to him. I got back on the trail and eventually caught up with my group, who didn't even know I had fallen. I was little but also faster than the rest of them.

I don't know why this memory came to mind last night. I wasn't thinking about me falling, I was thinking of the fact that I had a helping hand, just out of the blue, to pull me back up, and didn't even linger long enough to hear a thank you.
To him it was probably nothing, but to me it was something.
I guess it came to mind because I feel like I've been suddenly put back up right and able to go again. Yesterday, I was hired, and I didn't even have an interview. I was early, so I called the manager from the parking lot and asked if I could come by a little earlier for the interview, and she said, you know what- let's just skip the interview, I can tell you're right for this place just by talking to you on the phone earlier and by looking at your application. Just come on in & we'll get the paperwork going.
So I got a job in a parking lot. I ... I was...

well let's just say that I called everyone in my entire family, and they're as happy as I am. I got the hours I wanted, at the store I wanted, doing the thing I wanted, at the location I wanted. And now today I'm getting some new clothes. That's because I'm dangerous.
On the way home I had to stop by and tell Mark, and rubbed it in his face that I'm working at a vitamin store again, using all the knowledge that he trained me in. I got a little certification thing while working at his store, and he's the one who studied with me and taught me the basics. I love to remind him that his investment in me is being scattered abroad. He hangs his head and sighs and says, "You pick on me because I'm Jewish." He's hillarious.

I've come so far. I can't help but be really, really, exceptionally happy for myself at the moment.
As of next year, I will honestly be able to say that I've been doing this for a decade. The vitamin stores. I accidentally got a career!



....

(august 09)

My head is on another planet. I'm without a tear, there's none left. She was here yesterday, and again today. Yesterday we sat on the couch and cried together, just hugging and bawling. Today we went shopping. She's all set.

I look at what I've done during this time and it seems further and further away from me. It's not that I don't care about it all anymore, it's just that my head is no longer there.

Want to know where my head is? Fascinated with the perfection of this. The timing. How it's all dovetailing into one moment. I didn't know that my dark tunnel was so tied-in to

And

...then there's the dream I had the other nite-

I was sitting in a dark room, facing a closed door... but there was a bright light behind the door, I saw it thru the cracks. The door was about to open.

It's 12:25 am, she's packing her things at her Dad's and she leaves at 4 this morning. She's never coming back, not to life as she's known it. She's free.

I feel guilty for abandoning all this.

I keep saying goodbye.

I'm a different woman than I was 2 years ago. Not really sure who I am anymore. I worked so hard to tell you who I was, and now here I am with an entire new set of circumstances, thoughts, feelings...

but don't worry. I'll spare you.

I will leave you with this, though. My daughter is a lighthouse. She carries a torch within her. I didn't pass it. It just got there on its own.

I close my eyes and lean my head back now, I feel relief and release. I exhale and say, I did it. My fruit, it rolls uphill on it's own momentum, it didn't get stuck in the lowest place, and now it goes behind the trees, out of my sight...

I wink at you, knowing you know my secrets, those I've shared and those that are yet to be, as I close my book.






....

(may 09)


So today I'm taking the next one to the place where they put it on a dvd for you. I'm sure those guys who work there get a good laugh each day. Can you imagine that? Doing that for a job? Sitting and watching people's old home movies? I would love that! Except for the technical part.

I shudder at the thought of these guys seeing my old videos that I myself haven't seen in a long time. Years! I haven't been able to watch them, the box you put them in has been lost for years. The box that makes it fit. Fit into what? Nobody has vhs stuff anymore! Do you see why I don't even try to keep up? By the time I catch up electronically, times have changed, and I'm left standing there holding a cord and the outlet is gone. At least that's how I feel.

So I have to wait another week till the next one's done. What shall I do in the meantime?

I was thinking about making some more stupid cartoon videos. About what, though? Global Warming?

Cussing?

Trannies?




Puppy Mills?





I just don't know. I'm going to have to think about this.

.

...I don't have anything to say.

Except that I'm a bit confounded at the moment, my mom came over and she went shopping and got me some shorts, she's always trying to keep me looking decent, they're really cute but they're a size 9. Since when do I wear a size 9? What's happened to me? When I was at her apartment and not doing a thing, I couldn't keep weight on, and now that I'm working and on my feet all the time, I'm a blimp. Does that make any sense? Somebody I work with said that happens sometimes when you've been sick and then you get better. That would make sense. It's not like I'm eating like crazy or anything.

None of my jeans fit right and my face looks like a balloon.

This is why participating in the real world is probably not a good idea for me, nor has it ever been. I'm just on another stint, that's all. "Working", or "Employment" as some call it. "Earning a Paycheck."

I never truly feel like I'm REALLY doing whatever it is that I'm being paid to do. Know what I mean?

Sometimes it seems like my whole world is a farce, and my real life won't be known to me until it's all over with.

But back to the size 9 thing. I've never been a size 9. I'm a size 5. That's what I've been since I was 16. It's never changed. I refuse to believe this.

Perhaps the answer is to not do the real world thing anymore. Honestly. I'm in the mood to go to some shady trailer park, knock on a random door, and ask whoever opens it if I can move in. Shady, as in under a bunch of old trees. I want to meet interesting people. Carnival people. You know that feeling? When you talk to the ride operators and the ticket takers? Whenever I talk with those people it takes me away to some unseen place in my head. I want to live among them. I want to have an elderly tattooed neighbor with a pet snake and colored lights hanging on a string in his front yard. I want to drink tea with a housebound woman with framed pictures of her dead relatives lost at sea in some war. I want to hear the sounds of children laughing and catching fireflies.

I gotta get out of here.

What am I doing here?

.

As it turns out, the shorts are way baggy.

Thank goodness. I was thinking all day today, is she trying to drop a hint or something? Anyway I can't be a size nine, because I still wear my size 5 jeans. They're just tight is all. And not everywhere, just around the waist. It's my tummy. I don't know why or where it came from. Well ok I have been relying on McDonald's since I came here, because I told them I'd pay a certain amount and buy my own food. I started out with a small fridge in my room that I got at the thrift store, but it didn't last long. I gave up. I'm back to fast food. That, and 7-11. I love 7-11. I like the fruit and yogurt cups and the little salads. And pizza.

I never needed to eat like this until I started existing so hard. This is rough. And it's not even my tummy that's hungry, I think I'm trying to feed my mind. I'll drink a whole thing of chocolate milk just to calm my nerves.

At my mom's apartment it was just crackers and tea and the occasional frozen meal. I didn't care, it was all the same. I hardly ate. All I did was sit around with the cat and the laptop. I thought I'd miss it but as it turns out, I don't.

The other thing I'm happy about (besides not being a size 9) is the fact that my second video is ALREADY DONE!!!! And I just took it there yesterday. I guess the guys up there got bored or something. It's ready early. I'm off tomorrow so that will be my project for the day.

I was wondering how much they pay greeters at Wal-Mart? I sometimes think that's all I'm good for at a store is saying hi to people. I spout off knowledge but it's a robotic kind of response, it doesn't really come from my current head. It's stored information. Not current information. Know what I mean? I feel guilty sometimes. I'll be talking about fish oil but really my head is thinking about what I want to write about and how I'm feeling. I have two minds.

I forgot to mention, lately something has been occuring to me. It's hitting me that I may have forgotten things that I had no idea I forgot. I don't know how to explain it. For example, watching that beach video of Leah has reminded me of so many things, I watch it and I'm like, oh yeah! I remember how I felt during those days. It makes me feel like a mom again. Somehow this is having an accidental therapeutic effect. It's like things are being re-installed on my hard drive in my head. I don't know how to put it. But lately things have been occuring to me that I haven't thought about or cared about in years. I'm feeling more and more complete. Now I'm suspicious as to what all was erased off my brain when it was infected. Did you know, I couldn't even sign my own name on the ER forms on the first day I went? My mom had to do it. I couldn't talk. I was talking just fine at work that day, then it all hit, and by the time I was in the ER I couldn't even get one sentence out. That's when they scanned my brain the first time and found the spot.

I wonder if that's the hole all my memories slipped through.

I feel really disoriented sometimes. Sometimes it seems like I'm nothing but a cardboard shell, an existing human, that's it. I used to be so connected to all my feelings and thoughts, but now, everything seems so distant. These blogs and voice recordings give me some sense of connection but sometimes I think

You don't care about any of this, do you.

So are we supposed to be worried about Korea?

Tonight I thought about how I would react if a gunman came in to where I was and started shooting. Would I scream? To be honest, the thought of that doesn't even scare me. I'm the one who would willingly take a bullet. For some reason that kind of trauma or stress doesn't scare me. It's the unseen chaos on a personal level that I've had enough of and I go to great lengths to avoid.

I'm sorry if I'm rambling but I got into the Shiner Bock again.

.

Ok.

I have watched these at least 50 times today. I'm drinking it in like fine wine. It's hitting the spot. I'm satisfied. To the point of, I'll take it from here. I really don't think I need anybody else to hold my hand through any of this anymore. Not that anyone held my hand. But knowing I've had people with me during this dark time has helped. Nevermind the fact it was mostly raised eyebrows and head shaking and laughing at, not with. So what. I wasn't alone and that means alot to me.

I may not be home yet, but I see the light.

I changed my mind about sharing the rest of my home movies. These are mine. Go make or watch your own.


love, A.