this is for aaron

i have this friend named aaron. you may have heard me speak of him before as he is always a good source for a story.

aaron isn't easily rattled. he's seen shootings, stabbings, rapes, suicides, people dead after weeks of decomposing. he's dealt with people who use words that even i, at my worst, haven't ever heard of much less used. he's seen the worst in humankind, and he wouldn't so much bat an eye at the sight of someone that blew their head off with a shotgun. aaron, in a lot of ways, is callous.

driving home late from school the other night, we were catching up. i only had a few items to tell, and one of the less exciting things i had to say stupefied aaron to silence. when he gathered himself enough to speak, his only response was "oh my god. are you serious?"

don't worry. this has nothing to do with dead people.

i went on a date not long ago. this date was enough to make me not want to go out on dates ever again. and at present, i haven't. i'm retracting myself from the dating scene.

i met a guy, whom i didn't really know and wasn't attracted to, at a club near my house. i figured i'd give it a shot since i told myself a long time ago to give anyone a chance who asks me out, unless i might be in fear for my own safety.

we sat in a u-shaped booth and had a drink. we started chatting about whatever came to mind. mainly what came to mind for him was himself. he might as well have said, "okay, enough about me. what do you think...about me?"

the entire conversation was what he did and what he knew and what he liked. he likes this kind of music, and he has gotten this far in his career, and he has visited wherever the hell. i tried to unconsciously coach him by asking him questions about himself and then offering information about myself.

it didn't work.

i am very careful about giving people the wrong signals (even though i'm a vicious flirt.) but if i'm on a date, and i'm not digging it, you can tell. i sat at the table politely with my arms crossed, elbows on the table. by the minute, he inched closer and closer to me until his arm was resting on the booth above my shoulders.

somehow the conversation turned to scars, and he pulled up his sleeve to just above his elbow to show me a small, linear scar about 2 centimeters long.

i can't remember *how* he got his scar, because right after showing me, he leaned into me, looked me in the eye and said, "you know, i just pulled up my sleeve so you could see my guns."

alright, lame. it happens on first or second dates, or when you're nervous or interested.

instead of laughing politely, i felt my mouth widen into the kind of smile you get when you're concentrating on not letting your eyes roll back. the shrug that says, "yup dude, that was as lame as you think it was."

he crept in a little closer to my face at this point, and with all the seriousness he could muster, said "no, really. do you want to touch it?"

no trace of sarcasm whatsoever.

after a not too unkind "no", i excused myself to the loo. looking in the mirror, i was very happy with how i looked. sexy, a little messy, a sweet dewy glow to my cheeks. and i realized -- i wasted the pretty.

i told him i was tired, and exited. he walked with me, and it seemed as though he was finally getting it. he did lean a bit toward me at the end. i'm not sure whether he was testing his courage for a kiss, but i'm glad he second guessed himself.

i walked to my car feeling like i just saw one of those face-sliding-on-pavement sports bloopers. i shuddered a little and then stopped. i stood up perfectly straight, feet not scraping the pavement, and strided to my car, getting all i could out of the lip gloss and eyeshadow before i went home to sleep.

just then, date-boy was involved in a horrible driveby and consequently riddled with bullets from a 9 millimeter.

the present is a present, er..or something

dear sharon of the present, the here-and-now:

i hear you had some weird moments this weekend. not bad weird, or good weird. just weird. odd. strange, as it were.

part of me wants to tell you i'm sorry, but, well, i'm not. you see, it's good for you to go through these things. not because they make you a better person or any of that shit. cause it doesn't always. i was actually there for what happened, and it's pointless.

just because you get glimpses of the imperfect choices you have made -- memories of unpleasantries, like people, things and events, parts of your life you wished you blacked out during -- does NOT give you license to dwell. i know they make you feel like shit. i've been there. BELIEVE ME. but you can't do the obvious thing. you can't dissect everything and wish you didn't do the things you did. why were you attracted to so-and-so? why did you say this or not say that? why in god's name did you feel the way you felt, because that's sure as hell not the way the real you would have felt before or after it happened, or if you were sane at the time. what the fuck was wrong with you?

you can't ask these questions, because there isn't an answer.

the real answer to the more important question is this: you do these things not only so you won't do them again (like you ever would, and you most certainly do not need reminders, right?) but more importantly because it will make what's to come in your life so much sweeter. would little debbie nutty bars taste as good as they did if you would have never been forced to eat sweet pickles? fuck no they wouldn't.

so, you get my drift. and i'm sure you understand all the unsaid stuff that i, well..unsaid.

hang in there. there are some amazing things in store for you if you exercise your patience. you are NOT your choices. you are what you make of yourself.

most sincerely,
sharon of the past

p.s. before i forget, i have a chick friend i think you would get along with really well. you'll meet her..

*******

a conversation i actually had (about 45 seconds ago):

sg: do you wanna go get wasted?

me: fuck yes, i do.

sg: let's go then. OOH! that can be "the conversation you actually had"!

the simplest things

with regard to Sunday:

it's strange how a simple phone call, and hearing two letters removed from a familiar word can change your entire week.

with regard to last night:

also strange how a random dinner with friends can make you forget you even had a Sunday -- if only temporarily.

a conversation i actually had (at BJs Restaurant and Brewhouse):

ed: so sharon, have you had BJs?

me: nope

dg: dude, don't let her fool you. she's had PLENTY of bjs..

i fight authority, authority always wins

i woke up early this morning to a crazy thick fog, and the tweekers across the street having another yard sale. it's pretty much a bimonthly ritual for them, which is comforting in a way -- at least when they steal my shit, i just wait a few weeks and buy it back.

the house i live in was built in 1910, and evidently has had a few "incidents" of the paranormal kind. i didn't know this until we had an informal house meeting on my bed this morning.

i woke up at about 3:45am. correction, i was WOKEN UP at 3:45am by loud voices which i thought to be my roommates (both of whom were dead asleep.) after further investigation, the voices were coming from neither upstairs or outside. and, though all of you know i can be a bit off sometimes, they were not coming from my head (those voices don't wake me up.)

long story short, i factored in everything i heard, and all the surrounding evidence gathered over that 15 minutes in time, and it's truly something i have no explanation for. and neither does anyone else. this is hardly troublesome for them, and wouldn't be for me if i were hearing it after the fact too. as it turned out, i wasn't that lucky.

after mild panic, i got back to sleep and woke up again around 8:30 to find my roommate scott wandering around. he and amanda joined up in my room, and i gave them the short version of the events.

amanda, who has lived here the longest, shared a few past moments that both she, and other people, have experienced. none of these stories did much to calm me, but at least now i know i'm not insane. and now that i'm half expecting it, i won't be as caught off guard if and when it happens again.

in other news, i went to sunny's daughter dylan's talent show last weekend. it featured all ranges of talent from 5 to 12 years old. the highlights of which were dylan (naturally), and a 10 year old playing smoke on the water on electric guitar.

dylan is ever-adorable, though even more so as the youngest performer singing an acapella version of my country tis of thee. not to mention the complete lack of stage fright, which was awesome.

the only act that bothered me was the talent show organizer/janitor singing "jack and diane" karoke style. the act in and of itself wasn't distressing per se. but as the prerecorded music began i wondered how he was going to handle the age-inappropriate lyrics. he launched into "jacky's gonna be a football star, diane debutante front seat of jacky's car." lame, but whatever.

either oblivious, or too wrapped up in his own performance to notice, he failed to edit the rest of the song and belted out "jacky says hey diane lets run off behind the shady tree, dribble off those bobby brooks and let me do what i please" with all the confidence of barney singing "i love you, you love me".

shocked, or more appropriately scared, i sat dumbfounded and silently wished for him to do an encore of too short or dmx. he didn't.

the other oddity this week was the weather:


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sunny called me as i was driving down the 8 to school, and reported hail on her end of town. it occurred to me that where there is hail, there can also be snow. if i snows here, there's nowhere left to go but hawaii.

sure enough, as i hung up with her, i merged onto the 805 and drove right into my own personal hail storm, as if it was there just to support sunny's seemingly far fetched story.

when i was 6, there was a record-breaking hail storm in fort collins. my mom had run outside, risking serious injury, to make sure my sister, who had already begun walking home from down the street, came home safely. she ordered me to stay in the house, so being 6 years old (and better yet being myself) i followed her outside. i woke up about 5 hours later after being clocked on the head with a softball sized hail ball. i officially blame that incident for my poor decision making, particularly regarding the men i have dated.

other than that, the week has been busy, and the weekend wasn't nearly long enough. but i've gotten a ton done today, and still have some items lined up. and no, i don't plan on going shopping across the street to buy my neighbors stolen goods. last yard sale they had a used (VERY used, by the look of it) bin of playboy magazines. i'm holding out for something better. ain't i always?

a conversation i actually had:

claudia: hey, my stepdad thought you were really hot dressed as pink last week.

me: oh really? does he..? oh, never mind. i'm assuming since he's your stepdad that he already has a girlfriend.

just a thursday

weird that you should mention caffiene, mr hodges. i fell off of my soda wagon of 4 monthsish, and i've been sampling every energy drink that's out there. there are a few standout favorites, but nothing concrete.

so, in light of my renewed spaziness, plus my lack of blogging, i devote this weekend to an actual blog (with meat on it, as they say.) don't let me forget to mention precipitation and john cougar mellencamp.

and thank you, nicole's friend from maryland, for enjoying my blogs without knowing me. it's the highest compliment, next to that nicole thinks i'm funnier in person.

a conversation i actually had (vicariously through my friend sunny):

SG: uh, so, when are you gonna notice my hair? i got it cut.

DG: oh! you got it cut shorter?

SG: no, i got it cut longer. what the fuck is wrong with you?

same city, new air

so, i will be fully into my new place by tomorrow. it's a house that was bulit in 1910 (or thereabouts).. it's in a part of town where liquor stores, restaurants, boutiques, bars, laundromats (not that i need one) are all across the street...

it's been a long time since i blogged under the influence. i'm four glasses of wine in. it's a fantastic feeling, though i won't be thinking that as i go to work at 8am.

anyway, the new house has a very nice vibe to it. i liked it the minute i saw it -- from the outside even! anyway, new address to follow, in case anyone wanted to send gifts.

a conversation i actually had:

(while introducing sunny's 5-year-old to my landlord's ancient, blind-ass cat who resides outside my front door)

me: this is simba. he lives here, and likes to sit right in front of my door. he's very old, and he's blind, but he's a nice cat.

dg: ooh! can i pet him?

me: of course. he's super sweet.

**ten minutes later**

dg: i love him! mommy, look at this cat! he's so cute. i just can't take my eyes off of this blind cat!

one of my beautiful flaws

as i looked in the mirror the other day (which is sort of unavoidable - a salon is LITTERED with mirrors every way you turn) i realized that my six-months-ago self wouldn't recognize the girl in my reflection today. perhaps she'd look at me and think, "where do i know her from? she looks so familiar."

i had blogged in the past asking how people go about changing the things they dislike in themselves -- how to become a better person, and love who you are.

i used to love who i was, but somewhere in there, i lost that. for reasons completely clear to me, i started to self-destruct. my life started to come apart, and instead of hanging on to it all and trying to keep it together, i helped tear everything down. and for a few years, i sat in the rubble, and was convinced i couldn't get any lower, and i was always wrong.

in an attempt to rebuild, i've searched for ways to find the girl that i loved in me, because i know she wasn't completely eradicated. but it was nearly impossible. how do you start?

i figured as long as i remembered to treat myself like i would my dear friends, that would be a start. difficult, yes. i'm amazingly self critical. but not impossible. the virgo side of me that always tries to avert conflict by being nice when she shouldn't had to go - i knew that much.

and when i started to concoct this plan, i sort of got caught up in my life. my days turned into 16 hours of constant busy, and i completely immersed myself in my school, my job. somehow, without knowing it, i slowly became a person i adored again. as soon as i stopped thinking of what steps to take to heal and i became too busy with my life to bother with details, it took care of itself.

my mom has a wonderful gift. she is the most giving person i know. she always put everybody before herself, and sacrificed a lot in the process. she's the mom who would make her favorite pie, and once everybody had taken a piece and there wasn't one left for her, she would say she wasn't hungry anyway.

i always admired that quality, and i tried to emulate it. but what i realized recently is that i took that amazing trait too far. i was too giving, especially of people who didn't deserve it. i think a part of my subconscious figured that if i showed people who were selfish and awful some kindness, that it might make them see the beauty in that and somehow change the way they behave. but instead of any of that, i spread myself way too thin, gave far to much to people that were undeserving, and eroded myself in the process.

i look back at some of the people i gave too much of myself for, and i'm stupefied that i ever spent time on or cared about any of them to begin with. the arrogant, the selfish, the spiritually hideous people of my life that i treated far far better than i would ever treat myself. and none of those people ever benefitted in the way i hoped, they just took and took. and i let them, and kept giving.

once i saw this in myself, i wondered how a seemingly wonderful gift in my mother became a horrible defect in my life. why didn't i realize this ten months ago?

i wouldn't say i'm callous now, but i don't hesitate to call people out, or tell them to fuck off when necessary. i'd rather spend an afternoon with myself than a weekend on someone worthless and self-centered. and in doing that, i saw that girl that i love. and she's back in a big way.

it's funny how once you change something inside, that strangers respond to you differently, like they see the light that emits from you once you embrace yourself, faults and all.

i will no longer give more of myself than i will get back (except to dear friends, who end up returning the favor.) i will be alone before i spend time and energy on people who are incapable of being grateful. and instead of pie, i will make cupcakes. and none of the assholes i know can have any.

i conversation i actually had:

me: do you know something i was thinking about that i just don't understand?

dg: mathematics?

me: sunny? your husband's an asshole.