A career of shit

 I am working in the office this week and you know what I am doing? A bundle of shit, shoving that shit into a folder and shoving that shit into a filing cabinet. In alphabetical order or course.  In January, I was handing out shit. I  also watched a guy and handed him some shit. Now, when I was working in a factory, it was pretty much the same. I was shuffling shit, labeling that shit, shoving that shit into an inner box, than shoving that shit into an outer box, shoving that shit on to a pallet and finally, wrapping that shit up.

  

Now when I was at Hyvee, I worked in three different departments. First was night stock. I took shit out of boxes, shoved shit on a shelf, packed up the remaining shit and palletized that shit. Then I got moved to Pharmacy. There, labeled shit.  I counted shit out, labeled that shit, put that shit into bottles, passed off that shit, put that shit into a bag and sold that shit to customers.  Then I got moved to wine in spirits where it was pretty much a combo of the two but it was move about moving shit around. 

See a pattern here?

I do, it’s a lot of shit.

Really nothing. But it’s all shit and therefore a lesson in humility. You see we all like to think that we are better than the jobs we work. I’ve won awards and felt as if I have always deserved better than the jobs I have ended up working as. Much like the departed Norma Jean, I’m the smartest dumb person you will ever meet.  I’m guessing education, award and life time accomplishment don’t amount to anything but problems.

They say that intelligent girls are more likely to battles depression. 

I can agree with that. The more I know about the world, the more I want to keep myself separated from it. Something seems like an “through the looking glass.” Like I’m living someone else’s life and just going through the motions rather be fully integrated into m] the job. Flip a switch and BOOM auto pilot. However there is this sense of awareness that seems to plague me in each job. It says, “Really? Really… Uh man fricking really?”

But I figure writing is my only true love when it comes the career field. But like every starving artist, I can’t really make much of a living off of the love of my life. I can, however, carry around a note book and write down all of my ideas and dream of a tomorrow where I can get paid while traveling the country.  But somehow I figure that I will keep paying the bills by doing the shit dance, while stuffing and rearranging shit.  It’s simple but maybe because it allows to dive into that sense of humility, I can really pump through the rewrites and focus on the story instead of focusing on work.

Or is it the prowess and desire that writing has to give propels me forward to succeed. Either way I have a choice keep putting up with a career of shit or be consumed from work.

Myspace Archives. The self quiz, then and now

Okay, I remember getting these things all the fricking time. You know those "random stuff" quizzes and stuff. I looked back and got a pretty good laugh. After editing my already horrid sense of grammar. I decided to post one of these bizarre questionnaires with what has changed.  Enjoy this freak questionnaire from 2005!

Mood: Blank

April 2005

*Name: Eden "wouldn't you like to know" szijjarto  [Now, Eden Hinrichs]

*Nickname:Edie bear, eden pie, eden poo, pookers, mc swilze stick,schnookums, coffe nazi, Hitler junior, Milkshake, E [ Now: Edie]

*Single or Taken: Almost married [Now: Boardering on divorce.]

*Birthday: March 10th 1985 came in with the rising sun!  [Now: Same]

*Sign: Picesesssss[Now: Same]

*Siblings: Sister (or whatever)Renee , brother Janos Step sister Laura, step brother matt [Now: It’s complicated.]

*Hair color: blondish [Now: Same]

*Eye colour: yellowish brown [Now: Same]

*Height: 5'9 [Now: Same]

*Innie or Outie: INNIE [Now: Same]

*Where do you live: on Boone street in Boone county in Boone [Now: Just Boone.]

*Righty or lefty: right babbybbbby [Now: Same]

~Relationships~

------------------------------------------

*Who are your closest friends?:they know who they are [Now:  Sometimes, I don’t even know]

*Do you have a bf or gf?:Fiance' .. Thank you [Now:  complicated]

~Fashion Stuff~

------------------------------------------

*Do you have any tattoos or piercings?:2 piercing [Now: Same but with one more tat J]

~Faves~

------------------------------------------

*Color: Red , black and white[Now: Same]

*Number(s): 3 and 7 [Now: Same but add 13]

*Boys name: Janos, Johann, Edward [Now:  Janos, Dick, Thomas, Michael, Gabriel]

*Girls name: Callina [Now:  Saya]

*Subject in school: Psych. 101 [Now: Literature]

*Animal: crabbbies... cause i cant pay attention long enough to get anything else [Now: one fish, Beta. His name is Mikey]

*Drink: Coke, jones soda, Coooooffffffeeeee [Now: Coffee, lots of it]

*Celebrity(s): None [Now: Same]

-Female: -Male: 

*Sport: only if I am playing

*Veggie: mushrooms[Now: Same but with spinach]

*Fruit: strawberries, nanners, [Now: Same]

*Fast food place: subway [Now: Arby’s]

*Place to visit: Germany [Now: Hungary. I miss my family]

*Juice: orange [Now: cranberry]

*Finger: what the fuck do you think **flips you off*** [Now: Same]

*Ice Cream: moose tracks[Now: cheese cake]

*Cartoon Character: justice league [Now: Archer]

~Have You Ever~

------------------------------------------

*Smoked: YES [Now: Same]

*Bungee jumped: No [Now: been there done that]

*Broken the law: YES [Now: Same]

*Made yourself throw-up:  yeah [Now: Same]

*Gone skinny dipping: YES [Now: Same]

*Been in the opposite sex's bathroom: hehehe[Now: Same]

*Eaten a dog biscuit: uh no [Now: Same but I know someone who ate one. I still don’t get it.]

*Put your tongue on a frozen pole: well yeah cause i didn't believe that it would happen [Now: Same]

*Loved someone that made you cry: YES :( [Now: Same]

*Played truth or dare: YES [Now: Same]

*Been in a physical fight: YEAH [Now: Same]

*Been in a police car:  yes and don't ask [Now: Same]

*Been on a plane: YES [Now: Same]

*Been in a sauna: yes[Now: Same]

*Been in a hot tub: YES [Now: Same]

*Swam in the ocean: kinda

*Fallen asleep in school: not really [Now: Yeah, Iowa state will do that to you]

*Broken someone's heart: YES.... [Now: Same]

*Cried when someone died: yes [Now: Same]

*Flashed someone: flash? what’s flashing? [Now: How else do you think I get what I want?]

*Lied: YES [Now: Same]

*Laughed so hard you fell off your chair: All the damn time [Now: Yes but not as much]

*Sat by the phone all night waiting for a call: Too many times for my liking [Now: Same]

*Saved e-mails: From weirdos and other assholes to remind me why I don't talk to them anymore.  Oh yeah and from important people[Now: Same and the list gets longer….]

*Wished you were a member of the opposite sex: Yeah so I could peee standing up :P [Now: Same but come on, who doesn’t?]

*Been rejected: yeah blew me off for a whore... what a dick [Now: Same but it just gets more embarrassing]

*Been in love: YES [Now: Same]

*Used someone: Yes because they used other people [Now: No, definitely not]

*Been cheated on?: yeppers [Now: Same but it gets more painful]

*Been dumped: yep[Now: Same]

*Done something you regret?: if would mean i wouldn't be here ... then no [Now: occasionally]

~First Thing That Comes to Mind~

------------------------------------------

*Red: Me[Now: Same]

*Blue: :Lindsay [Now:  Kitchen]

*Happy: :) bob [Now: Future]

*Autumn: trees [Now: Skank]

*Cow: milk! [Now: Same]

*Greenland: Vikings [Now: Green]

*Lucky charm: Cereal [Now: My trinity charm that broke]

*Stupidest thing you have ever done: getting hired at USC [Now:  That list is getting bigger leaving a stable job for literal insanity]

*Your crush: MATT! [Now: Orange]

*Your most prized possession: My journals and photo albums [Now: My only picture of my grandfather]

*Last thing you ate: Donut [Now: Meatball]

*Thing that has happened to you this year: Too much to list [Now: Same and it’s only February. I mean WTF!]

~Have you had~

------------------------------------------

*Chicken pox: YES [Now: Same]

*Sore throat: yeah.. [Now: Same]

*Cold: YES [Now: Same]

*Stitches: YES [Now: Same]

*Bloody nose: YES [Now: Same]

~Do you~

------------------------------------------

*Believe in love at first sight: YES [Now: no]

*Enjoy parks: With lfd! [Now: Alone with my MP3]

*Like picnics: I'll bring the wine [Now: I love them]

*Like school: only when I am in charge [Now:  I hate it. Loathe it, education has brought me nothing but the pain of realization]

*What schools have you gone to: NERRRR! [Now:  A lot plus 3 colleges]

*Hate anyone:no, Loath... yes!

~Who~

------------------------------------------

*Who is the last person that called you: Bobby Bear [Now: My dad J]

*Makes you laugh the most: LFD when she's swinging in a tree  [Now: Todd and the book of pure evil]

*Makes you smile: Anyone when i can take a pot shot [Now: [People]

*Can make you feel better no matter what: Matt Daniels [Now: Same and Pete Huffman]

*Was the last person you touched: Lindz [Now: a friend]

*You talked to last: Bobby bear aka fuzzy bear [Now: My Neighbor]

*You hugged: Lindz [Now: Alicia]

*You messaged: Matt smith [Now: Hans]

*You yelled at: Bobby. I swear to god I told you about the laundry :P [Now:  can’t remember]

~Do You/Are You~

------------------------------------------

*Do you like yourself: SOMETIMES [Now: Same]

*Do you get along with your family: ah, does it count if you have disowned most of it? [Now: Mostly]

*Do you do drugs: NO [Now: Same]

*Color your hair: Nope my hair is my trade mark [Now: Nope, I bored]

*Habla espanol?: Nein  [Now: a very little bit]

*Stolen anything ever: only hearts [Now: accidentally pens. I stick them in my hair and forget about it]

*Obsessive: Timmy blakkashdagsdj Timmy !!!!  [Now: sometimes with writing]

*Compulsive: NERRR Subreau ner! [Now: Yup]

*Anorexic: Only when I am busy [Now: Not on purpose]

*Depressed: Most of the time cause I miss my friends form Canada. Don't think I have forgotten about you guys I have never stopped. [Now:  I miss my friends and family]

*Suicidal: NO

~Final Questions~

------------------------------------------

Girls Fill Out ONLY

------------------------------------------

*Boxers or briefs: meh [Now: Same. Does it matter?]

*Older, younger, same age: Older [Now: Same]

*Tall or short: Taller: I was never into kissing midgets [Now: Same]

*Good or bad guy: I date the bad guy, I marry the good guy [Now:  Can’t tell the difference lately.]

*Stubble or neatly shaved: It never matters [Now: Same but I like a little stubble]

*Hot or cute: Meh [Now: Being a good person is more important to me now. I could care less about looks]

*Dark or blonde hair: it doesn't matter [Now: Same]

*Curly or straight hair: meh [Now: Same]

*Dark or light eyes: As long as they are beautiful[Now: Same]

*Hat or no hat: meh[Now: Same]

*Long or short hair: meh as long as they wash it and don't try to make it better than any woman’s... cause that’s just wrong... and homosexual [Now: I could care less]

*Tan or fair: meh [Now: Same]

*What do you notice first about guys: Eyes always the eyes [Now: Same]

*Shy or outgoing: It doesn't matter! I am can make anyone just as crazy as I am [Now: Same but now I use the word “eccentric”]

*Six pack: Meh [Now: Don’t care]

*Muscular arms: Sure why not [Now: Same]

Surfing the myspace BLOG part one

Hello Sports fan,

Thanks to an illustrious um... Hopefully a minion. Yeah, you know who you are. Thanks man. Any who.... We started chatting about Myspace and blogging. You know at first I laughed at him for blogging on myspace. I ripped on him and then I realized, "Oh shit. I blogged on My Space."

Thus so inspired by this conversation, I decided to log into my much forgotten account. And post those ghastly Angst ridden blogs to you my hopefully future minions.

Okay, here goes:

Title: Procrastination

Current mood: angsty

            It's funny living again in the real world surrounded by the actuality of function. Sometimes, it is almost as if I am somewhere I never really thought about before. It's like noticing that there's a seven eleven down the street and the next thing you know you’re working at one. I have made it this weird goal to seriously work on my novel this summer but I find myself being distracted by the fresh air tendrils coaxing me out side. As the trains echo in the distance, I keep thinking about fresh air and the crisp essence of independence. Nothing but the road and me with the sound of my footsteps bouncing of the buildings like ping pong balls off of those green stretches of tables.

            I sit here looking at the moon through glass, like an old friend coaxing me out of my normal skin to begin some new adventure. Maybe that is how my novel should enter a new chapter, by moonlight. This thought now brings the poem "The highwayman" by Alfred Noyes  to my mind like an old friend in a Polaroid(don't worry I'll post the poem at the end of this blog cause I have nothing better to do).

            The poems makes me want to ride a horse down story street with cowboy boats twinkling in the moonlight, my hair gracefully swinging down my back with a purple ribbon holding it back from causing chaos in the rebellious winds. Or maybe I should ride to ledges listening to the TRUE sounds of the night instead twittering away worthless words that no one will read.

            Yet, I write them anyway. I try to write but  all I can seem to write over and over again is "Rose spent most of time working at her father’s shop" or  "her time at the shop was spent folding silk after silk after silk " or my personal favorite… "she worked at the family's shop". So story writing is defiantly not in my blood tonight but the night without a doubt is.

            So here I sit in front of a computer tossing different thoughts in my head still in my work clothing barely remember what I was thinking about the moment before. I had spent time trying to procrastinate by surfing my favorite sites and writing this blog. So I guess I'll talk to you later so I can find another way to procrastinate.

Rammstein: The Death wish tour. Part one

                I remember the phone call so clearly. “It’s Cancer, you’ll need to come in for treatment.” My world froze.  My migraines were crushing me sending me into the ER every week and I had more holes in my arm than a heroin addict during fleet week.  They were running every test on me that were humanly possible. They suspected that I might have brain cancer to begin with but to me it sounded as realistic as a pipe dream. But this wasn’t the brain cancer that I was semi prepared for but Cervical Cancer was not one of them. 

                I was rotting from the inside out and I left rotted out. MY brain froze and my life halted. All I had was my novel and if I could finish that my life wouldn’t be the worthless rotted filth fest I was beginning to see. I’d spent hours in the company of coffee, cigarettes and the music styling’s of Rammstein (Rosen Rot and Love is for all) Emigrate and Oomph. I declined treatment for months; my then husband was upset with me. As far as I knew I was a dead woman walking and if I was going to die from cancer, I wanted to die who I am and not a lifeless husk on life support. 

                I’d stopped going into the doctor’s appointments and I had decided secretly, just to let myself go. The music seemed to be the only thing that soothed the pain.  With my old partner in crime,  Lindsey we had a lot of good old memories with Rammstein. We listened to “Live Aus Berlin” while we played drunken Mario party letting lose the ambiguity of under age drinking.  When I wanted to cry I wrapped those words around me like a blanket. The blanket, ran even more so with Emigrate because I knew all to well the pain in the album because I experienced every waking day. 

                I came here circa on 12 27 2003. The day after Boxing Day. The weather was perfect and I crossed over Michigan crossing, I tried not to think about how much I wanted to be in New York living my writer art.  I felt so away from my family and friends. On my own, in a land undiscovered and so adventurous or stupid but it was my time to take control of my life. It took a lot of balls to leave with $500 and two suitcases.  When that album dropped it gave me an extra blanket.  I have several blankets because with the wonderful magic music going digital it makes carrying around blankets becomes easier.  I told Lindsey, that should I survive, (which at that time sounded doubtful at the time) my one wish was to see Rammstein live in concert.  I mean I owed my novel to them and the comfort while I was fighting my inner rage.

                I mean I had a dream man that I saw every night in my dreams and they even helped me cop with that. I can’t help but to say I nearly shit bricks when I heard “Don’t die before I do” (clip provided below).  It made me feel better and ‘the dream dude’ situation which is still ongoing will be another lengthy post. I figure that maybe it is Jung’s shadow but when that post comes up I will talk all about it. He’s my other psychic half and even though we don’t get much to say to one another there is comfort in the fact that my brain is working itself through a double ganger. It shows that something is still going right as far as psychological development goes.

                So from the prayers that people sent me, Reiki and a shit ton of medication, the pain ebbed slightly and all of my cancer disappeared through whatever reason.  It left. Poof. One day, just poof. I shall spare the grisly details. 

                In May 2012, Rosemount, I finally got the chance to gain my death wish. I was so honored and so happy to have Jo and Curtis with me.  They didn’t know my story and nor did I expect them to. I was just happy to be there with them. I don’t think I could ever have thanked them enough for not only inviting me but celebrating.  It was one of the happiest day of life. I finally got to accomplish a dream I never would have otherwise. After Curtis and Jo hit the sack, I sat on perched on the window and drink wine reflecting over the day. 

                They came beside us with an aura that stunned me. A weight, I reflected as I swirled my wine.  A presence and the entire scenario seemed like an exorcism for the soul and a much need one at that.  I rejoiced with others like me and other the larger span of demographics. Example, a  9 year old child rocking his heart out and a 90 year old clapping with each song.  It made my life that even though the my reasons for being here might not be the same as other but everyone, connected by one ounce of happiness- shared the joy of music. What more could a girl ask for?

By the way, I tearing through the rewrites in my novel and hopefully by April or May it will be released on Amazon.  Or by Request, I’m not picky.

Happy Poe Burton day!!!!

Hello Sports fans!

So, my interview got canceled. Bummer but I applied over 12 places today and watching my in box like a hawk. There are a few that look totally promising including being a social media manager. It's a job I can hope for right? Another is a bar tending gig. Kinda hope I get a call back on that ones. So today since it's a dark and ominous day I here by officially declare it Poe Burton day. Even did my make up and dressed to impress. Okay not so much, But a gal can dream

gggff

So for those of you who don't know what Poe Burton day is, it is the mixture of Edgar Allen Poe (AKA My "poe"(poor)ass writer attempting to look for employment while one the quest for booze) and Burton for Tim Burton. (If you don't know who Tim Burton: Congratulations to making it out of the cave {or rock for those under employed such as myself} You have found the INTERNET and discovered my blog. I'm sorry. Really.)

But A side from Mr. Poe, Tim Burton is the second need to know person in Gothic history. Goth. Not Emo. Yeah, there's a difference. Note: Emos cry, cut and get crushed in a colorful amount of glittery sub category *VaMp*. Goths however, will cut you, cry on the inside and do the crushing. Point in check, paranoid of being said emo. I live the life style. Really, I'm not an asshole- I'm just pissed off a lot and I wear a lot of black. Black is great because it's slimming (I'm a bit on the chunky dunk side). And It goes with everything. For the longest time, it's all that occupied my wardrobe with lace, ruffles and half empty packs of cigarettes.

I used to use cigarettes and coffee to get me moving but in celebration of Poe Burton day I've been writing with a  fake raven on my sholder with my Burton sleeves on. And applying for jobs...

Why?
1. I'm unemployed and no one is going to see my ass anyway.
2. Nothing says confidence like dressing like yourself
3. It's (a) Poe Burton day
4. Because I CAN

So being in that frame of mind I welcome you to celebrate with me. And hope that I get a call back or email. Fingers crossed!!!!!

"Tell me a little about yourself"

Hello sports fans!

Tomorrow I interview for another job. I did fairly well on Friday but tomorrow will be another day. I really want this job. It's another night shift gig but it could lead to more. I am hopeful and nervous. When I'm nervous I always blurt out the weirdest crap. So figured this video might me important. The reason I rocked the dealership interview was because I simply didn't want the fricking job but I  (and the manager) worked hard to find an appropriate time, I figured I would give it the old college try. So, I rocked it. I even recited an ad they had yet to release verbatim. Why can't I do that for every job? Dang.

It's a great video. I laughed. But I laughed because it was true (*cue wanh wanh*). I usually try to plug my dust collecting, next great American novel that is subsequently unpublished. That and I've decided on yet another set of rewrites that I really MEAN will be the last ones. I hate talking to complete strangers and trying to pretend to be normal. It's a lot of work. 

 It was also pared with an article on tardiness. I've never been great with arriving on time. I feel a dime late and a nickle short. I could leave an hour before I have to be somewhere just by the wire. Example, I had to be at the airport at 9:30 am. The person driving me decided it would be best to leave at 6:30 am. No issue right? Be there with more than enough time to spare. Try a whole lot of "Not gonna happen," Randy did his damnedest to take every short cut and I mean every short cut to get to the airport and I literally ran to the check out counter tugged a ragged or at least a little worse for wear suitcase behind me. I bolted through the terminal like a crazy woman. Thank god that the plane was later than I was or else I was going to have some explaining to do.

But the following people have much better excuses than I did. They are as follows:

• Employee dropped her purse into a coin-operated newspaper box and couldn’t retrieve it without change (which was in the purse)
• Employee accidentally left the apartment with his roommate’s girlfriend’s shoes on and had to go back to change
• Employee’s angry wife had frozen his truck keys in a glass of water in the freezer
• Employee got a late start because she was putting a rain coat on her cement duck in her front yard (because rain was expected later that day)
• Employee’s car wouldn’t start because the breathalyzer showed he was intoxicated
• Employee attempted to cut his own hair before work and the clippers stopped working, so he had to wait until the barber shop opened to fix his hair
• Employee’s car was attacked by a bear (had photographic evidence)
• Employee drove to her previous employer by mistake
• Employee claimed to have delivered a stranger’s baby on the side of the highway'

I kinda wish I was that creative. I'm going to get up early and study good interviewing tactics.  Anyone else have interview anxiety?

Wayward lullaby

Hey everyone,

I just got off the phone with Sis and she made feel better about the weird freakiness that has become my life. Good ju ju for tomorrow! Could be the job of my dreams

Do I forgive or do I forget?

this is another chapter I had written. It was one of the more difficult pieces I have ever written because it is about father and my very few shadows in my life about him. It's struggle I've for a long time. Do I forgive or do I forget him

Daddy Issues: 

We have an unspoken rule in my family. We don’t talk about the past.  At all. I think it was to prove that if we did not acknowledge the pain of the past, that it would lose it power over us. Worried that we would turn into an unavoidable pillar of salt, the past must remain behind us. I held this to be true, truer than the air I breathed or the ground beneath my feet.  However as I aged it became more like a poisonous spell that runs through my veins only to be remembered in waking nightmares. Sipping my morning coffee I realized that it will always be in the shadows. 

But hiding it and pretending it doesn’t exist doesn’t suit my personality. I do well enough facing up to the demonic shadows of others and I can certainly face up to my.  One of those demons would my father. Well, biologically at least. I had nightmares about him that I thought were a part of my imagination but were just old memories.  He was your classic narcissistic low life. 

Which he had been for as long as anyone could remember. For the record, I didn’t get this information from my mother who everyone could assume to be a villain. No. I was an intelligent child and even then detective work came naturally to me. Even as the internet became more available I became better at pounding the pavement. 

I didn’t like what I found but then again the truth is an ugly monster. My mother refused my questions and I went looking for my own. I’m not the brightest bulb in the world but everyone leaves a paper trail one way or another. I had asked for nothing from him up until my 18^th birthday. 

I asked for something very simple, very small. My ticket to a new world of opportunity, my ticket to an American university circa 2003. A birth certificate. I would have paid for the 5 cent photocopy at Shopper’s Drug Mart But his anger, self loathing of that pillar of salt that had become couldn’t allow him to be the man he should have been.

As I grow older and I began to remember more, his crimes became more horrific.  The people surrounding me became more real. I am human, this I knew better than anything. I will continue to be human and my thoughts become the best of me. 

I’m bitter this was the same mother fucker who had feed me to the dogs on several occasions for a drug fix. Or my mother for that matter. If I had a nickel for every horrible thing that had ever happened to me I would be one rich son of a bitch but since I didn’t I just carried the raw baggage. For years, I would have killed to have the chance to be a happy go lucky kid who grew up in lap of luxury as Wonda supposed she did. But then again one had to wonder if she did but she claimed her “brash behavior” was due to her surviving her recent tragedies and her time in various hospitals.

 Sometimes one had to wonder but since she was my boss it was none of my business to question her about her experiences in life. I hated being grilled or drilled for information about my inner personal thoughts or feelings. Wonda once said that I had reminded her of Lisbeth from “the girl with the dragon tattoo.”

 Like Lisbeth, silence was my weapon and knowledge was my power. Wonda made me feel as if I was a princess and not in a good way in the way. She said in a manner that someone would use to demean my life and experiences.  If I was a princess than it was a princess without a Prince. I wish I could pretend that my father wasn’t my father but after I looked at one picture of him, I knew.

 Fucking knew it. There is always some sort of knowledge that a child in my circumstances harbors that maybe their mother cheated and their supposed father was not the one who like to beat women or get arrested.  I still knew in my heart that this man couldn’t be my father but yet it was reality.

What a joke. I should have been a bit smarter. I remember the one day I needed him more than anyone else. I was told that if I had his birth certificate, I could go to school in the United States without a visa and I could have that future I always wanted. My golden ticket.

 To accomplish this deed, I needed my mother to do one very large act of courage.  I needed her to call ‘Robert’ and ask him for a copy of his birth certificate.  She was reluctant at first but I begged her to please please, just to do this one thing for me. 

{This was the song I was listening to as her and my father conversed  }

Finally she did. I quietly waited in living room that was attached to the kitchen as my mother made that dreadful call. I overheard everything. He called her a bitch (same old daddy dearest). He claimed that SHE had been the one to destroy his life, like he hadn’t done anything on his own.  He couldn’t see beyond his own hatred or his own ego.  I listened with a cold detachment. Somehow in the depth of my soul, it felt expected.

I recalled in the back of my mind what good old daddy dearest had done to get himself kicked out of my life. He did one thing no “daddy” should do. Years later I remembered what happened after had done it to me the first time. I went to the coach and watched HELLRASIER and somehow in the memory of that blood ridden film. I told myself to not forget. Remember this movie and never forget what happened. Use it to show you the way and years later it did but that’s a story for another blog.

I had to know why I remembered the film.  When had I watched it, why? And before long I wished I hadn’t followed that yellow brick road. 

“Please Robert, This is for our daughter.”

Well that caught my attention. I listened a little bit closer. The things I had picked up were “Bitch and cunt.” Yeah, like I would forgive you for that one butt wipe. Then she asked about the pictures. Interesting fact about me, I don’t have any baby pictures.   

Rumor is that Robert in a fit of rage burned every photo of me that existed. My newborn pictures and all the ones up to my 4^th birthday all whispered away with kiss of fire. There is only one picture left in existence that is of the originals and that one is the one and only of that 4^th birthday party. It was tiny and the corners were worn from multiple. This cellioud frame was the only proof that I had ever been young. 

 I had the weirdest look across my face and a messy on at that. Looking at my face now I could never believe that it was my own. I have doubts about that too. I figured I was so easily lied to about everything else why not this as well? 

“Are you sure?” My mother asked innocently. “Is there any way you could please just check for them?”

“You took everything!” I heard him shout from the line.

“The birth certificate? You have to have one of those, right?” 

“If I couldn’t get in, “An enraged voice echoed. “She won’t be able to get in.” 

I felt my lips twitch inward. “Please,” I mom begged. This is something that I am not used to hearing from the iron bar that is my mother. “Good-bye Robert” She said to him in swirl of his anger. I was proud of her in this moment. At least she tried; many mothers wouldn’t have the balls to do so. “I don’t know what I am going to tell Eden, Christine.” Then it came to my knowledge that my mother was not alone. I took one big breathe and decided to step in the kitchen. MY mother and Christine both paled. They weren’t able to see me coming and definitely weren’t ready. My mother opened up her mouth to say something but I raised my hand to stop her from speaking. 

“It’s not worth it.” I said strongly. “He’s not worth it.”

“But The school….” She trailed off. 

“What about it?” I kept my face from twitching with the rage I felt inside. “I can take of myself.”

My mother’s eyes welled up with tears and I handed her an abandoned cup of tea. “I’ll make it without him. Never needed him before did we?” She shook her head to the side.

“I guess we didn’t.” She sipped her tea. “What did you hear?”

“More than enough. He blew his last chance to have a relationship with me.” I left my mother with her friend and went to find my solace in music and a book. I couldn’t cry because it wasn’t in me anymore. Only the emptiness of rage and anger. I thought about all the times he left my mother in a crumbled heap at the bottom of the stairs. I would tread carefully as any child stepping down the stairs. And moved the blood soaked hair out of her face. He got her in the nose this time. I took a closer look and her nose looked okay aside from the blood dripping out of it.

She made some bad choices sometimes but it was never an excuse to hit a lady. Or woman. He over powered her but not by much. She was so tiny even when I was that age. She had long anime like legs and golden blond hair with tanned skin. I was the opposite.