The reason why I titled my last blog "Tomorrow Never Happens" is that I wanted to communicate that we don't always have tomorrow, like I didn't with Debbie. I thought I had time. I thought she had time. Now she's gone. Many great people have said, "Live today like it will be your last. Someday it will be." How would you feel about yourself if you didn't wake up tomorrow? Would you be satisfied that your last day was productive, you felt emotion, you did something for yourself? Or would you be disappointed that you dragged yourself to a job that you loathed, laid on the couch and watch tv and ate a mediocre dinner? How did we get to a point when we don't have time to live? You don't need money to live, although it helps. By live, I mean experience.
I visited my gramma yesterday and she said, "When it was raining so much I thought of you."
"Why would you think of me?"
"I thought of you walking in the rain."
I gave a wry smile and said, "It's refreshing."
"Oh, I don't mind."
I encourage all people to take a walk in the rain, best in the woods, but even if you can go to a nearby park. Or just walk around the block. Go out and get a tattoo. I've like tattoos for as long as I can remember. I'm still fascinated by them. I have yet to make a consulting appointment with the artist I want to do my next tattoo; my Forever 27 tattoo. I have tomorrow, right? Sometimes, I waiver a bit. I wonder if I really want it. I definitely want to get another tattoo, but sometimes I wonder if I want it to symbolize the Forever 27 Club. Right now I do. Janis, Jimi, Jim, Brian, and Curt. Forever young and forever beautiful.
I watch the flame of the candle by my computer, casting its glow on my buddha statue candle holder. It was an inexpensive, unneeded object I bought at Cost Plus, but I love it. He's so serene. I think of women who set out on journeys, alone, not knowing exactly where they'll end up, and usually with very little money. I think it's very brave. A couple of them journeyed 30 years ago. I think the world was so different back then, that it can't be done like that now - just up and leave, unless you have money so you know you'll have shelter and food. But maybe I'm wrong. I know a girl who is a professional campaigner who moves from city to city with no "home base." She just goes where campainging needs to be done. Everything she owns fits in her car. She sleeps on an air bed. I think that would be hard, but an incredible experience - all the places she sees, the people she meets. She said that Seattle is one of her favorite places. Mine too.
I wonder (which I do a lot, if you haven't noticed) how I can feel so much compassion for people, and want to do nice things for them because they're going through a rough time, but I have almost none for my mother. Maybe it's because I see her as so weak and I want her to be strong. Maybe it's residual feelings, or lack there of, from a long time ago. Feelings I thought were resolved. Maybe it's from resentment and frustration I feel now. Maybe I'm not as good as a person as I like to think I am. She just had oral surgery on Wednesday, and with other people I'd be waiting on them hand and foot, but with her I haven't done anything. I did wash half of the dishes last night (between commercials). I would love to get my life in complete order by the start of next quarter, but I would be happy with at least partly organized. I am working towards that, and actually making headway. I'm not just thinking about it. I finished the interrogatories. I sold some of my books from last quarter (for a whopping $7) and bought my books for next quarter (a meager $350). I also found all of my classes while I was at campus. I still volunteer for Volunteer Chore Services, although I fulfilled my requirement. Now I just need to write the paper and hand it in. Email it in, excuse me. It can really be a pain in the ass to clean her little apartment, because she has so much stuff, but I like helping someone who needs it. At least I can help one person. I just went out and turned off the light in the living room, where my mom sleeps (by her choice). She was asleep but I woke her up. She doesn't sleep very well, especially since the surgery.
I saw Dee today, mom's best friend who blew me off. Mom left something in her car and Dad and I went down to retrieve it. All she said to me is, "That was weird. I was looking out the window." because she met me at the door without me having to knock, which I'm actually grateful for. She didn't say hi, how are you, bye...I don't know if that's how she feels about me, or that she knows she's pretty much on my shit list and doesn't want to get into conversation. What a dick. Her husband's a dick too, so they're made for each other. Do you know what that wrinkled old ass said to me a while back when I told him I was going to major in liberal arts? He said, "That's a cop-out." And it was at a restaurant! I had to excuse myself to the restroom to cry. I know he said other derogatory comments about choosing to major in liberal studies, but I didn't pay all that much attention to them after he said I was copping out. That really hurt. Why do people have to be so mean?
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