creeped out

ok. weird things are happening. i live home now, right. it's an old apartment, window units, but new orleans has been surprisingly cool and bearable for May and with the windows all open my apartment feels wonderful. except for the kitchen -- all week it's been obscenely hot. washing a few dishes the other day, i was sweating. literally. plus this rushing gas sound that i couldn't figure out. until today: my oven has been set on 200 degrees. i almost didn't check because i know i haven't used the stove since i moved in in January (sad, but true). but i did because i kept noticing the sound. that so freaked me out. i turned it off and the kitchen is fine now.

another weird thing happened about a month ago. i came home and a mini-blind box was laying in the middle of my living room. i didn't think too much about it. just that someone was in my apartment, obviously, and left it by mistake. the handyman? he didn't hang any blinds up. but, i just filed it away under weird and forgot.

now, i'm like, why would someone turn/leave my stove on and why was a mini-blind box left in my living room. it makes no sense. i've always felt so safe (the few times i slept home) and now i'm creeped out. i called my sister over. she said where was the box and i still had it in a pile of books i have to take down to my car so i showed her. what's in it she asked. nothing, it feels empty. then why is it taped? and i looked, it's an old beat up box, but the whole thing's been scotched taped, all the edges, even the tears are sealed shut. we opened it and it's empty. now that's just creepy. makes it seem intentional. now i'm really creeped, like somebody's trying to fuck with me. let me know they've been in.

i called the landlord. he volunteered that the handymen are always in there "servicing" the apartment and that i can change the locks if i want and i don't even have to give him a key. too quickly. i thought he might say, are you sure you didn't leave the stove on. nothing, just change the locks and don't give anyone a key. is that weird, or is it just me?

last thing. i was in bed talking on the phone earlier this week. when i hung up to go to sleep, i heard footsteps. in my apartment. i kept listening to be sure and i was so sure. they went away and i got up the courage to investigate. and two windows in my living room were open. it could have been a coincidence, i guess. but i've never left the windows open, i check before i go to bed. and i know i heard footsteps.

i'm not sure what to do. why can't anything just be normal for me? nothing ever is. such simple things are so complicated. and i love living alone so much. i still look around and am like, i have my own apartment, this is so cool, even thought i think i should be over it by now. it's the best thing ever. i hate that creepy things have to happen.

survival

friendship is unnecessary,
like philosophy, like art
It has no survival value;
rather it is one of those things
that give value to survival

i think i heard on the radio yesterday that friendship is more important than love. but i don't think i've ever been able to separate them. even when i was really young i've always been sort of a one person girl. my best friend when i was 11 or 12, i truly loved her, sometimes i think maybe i was in love with her. i might have been. i get really attached to people quickly, i hold them close and it's hard to let go. i still keep in touch with most of my ex-boyfriends. people say that's weird, but they were such a big part of my life, had so much impact on who i am, how can you not want to keep that in your life? when i am in love, that person becomes my best friend. or maybe the other way around, i'm not sure.

friendship/love is not unnecessary. survival is not enough.

advice

i don't want to be famous or rich or powerful or envied, i just want to be happy. i want a job that i enjoy doing. i want love. i want a family. i want a really simple life. i want to be truly honest and still like myself.

we had a long talk last night about whether to listen to your brain or that little voice inside. my sister was really whacked. logically, she thinks she's being screwed. but her voice is telling her it's ok. that's she's happy. and if she's happy, the rest doesn't matter. it doesn't have to be ok for everyone else. it's your life. i knew everything she meant. i really did. i struggled with the same thing. but who cares what it looks like, if you know what it is. or believe, or choose to believe, or hope. because you never know, and there are such differences between the others.

i hate giving advice because i am so bad at it, and because i have so little answers for myself much less anyone else, especially someone so important to me. but she told me long ago: if you know it's right, don't try to make it wrong. more eloquently of course. that's all you need to know. oh, and my favorite-ist ever, that i stole from the priest, love extravagantly and leave the judging to God. but i've adapted it to love extravagantly. period. don't worry about the rest.

a new path

I have been thinking about you. Sometimes God leads you down the path least expected but it turns out to be a wonderful thing. Hang in there. The best is yet to come. You are a wonderful person.

sometimes people surprise you. i got this email yesterday after i told a former co-worker about the separation/divorce. i had to. she keeps asking how he is, how's the cats and dog, how's the house. i said, you might have heard already, but i have to tell you something. and poor thing she thought i was going to say i was pregnant.

i never wanted to be divorced. it's funny. i never thought i would be. that part breaks my heart. i never knew him at all.

cigarettes

i like to smoke. i'm not addicted. but i like having a cigarette in my hand, i like the way it smells and i like blowing smoke into the air. i like watching people smoke. and i like kissing someone who smokes. but sunday i had to quit. i was putting on makeup and my skin looked absolutely horrible. now i realize that it was probably drinking a bottle and a half of rum saturday night and then going to sleep on the bathroom floor at 6:15 and waking up after two hours and fifteen minutes, but at the time i thought, look at my skin--it's the cigarettes. and i took them out of my purse right then and haven't touched them since.

sofa or love seat?

sofa shopping. i'm not sure if i want a love seat or a full sofa. i like the love seat. i like that there's room for two. i like laying down with my legs over the arm, reading a book. plus they're cuter. my sister says it doesn't matter. just pick one. and the salesman says wow, the only girl who thinks that size doesn't matter. he thinks he's slick, but my sister says, it doesn't. and then he thinks she just missed the joke but really he just missed that she's a lesbian.

then he says, do you want me or the driver to deliver it to your apartment. and i say, it makes no difference. and he says, well i'm really looking forward to delivering it myself. and i realize that maybe we shouldn't buy this sofa from him after all, so i say you know what i'll come back another day and my dad will drive it home, he likes to do that kind of stuff for me. so i still need a sofa. i think next time i will wear my wedding ring, at least get some kind of use out of it.

addict

i live home again. it feels like it. it's nice. it would be fine to live there alone. i do need to put locks though on the window and the bedroom door and the front door a big chain. because i thought about it last night: the handyman drinks too much, likes me a lot, lives around the corner, has a key to my apartment. so why do i feel so safe there? i don't even have curtains and i sleep in my underwear. i live in a low-class urban neighborhood. i live alone for the first time in 26 years. last year, i lived in a house in the suburbs with my husband around the corner from my parent's house where i lived my whole live. and never felt safe. but i couldn't drive on the interstate either then. mental captivity?

so, i really do need to buy that sofa now. when you actually live there, you need things. and i had my first company. well, not really first, because my boyfriend has been there and my sister and her girlfriend. anyway, i had company. my sister. she's heartbroken so we got her a tattoo and then got really nice and shit-faced together. reminded me of when we were young. bonding over alcohol, i guess that's how you do it in my family. i'm just glad i don't have to be smashed anymore to enjoy sex. but that's another story...

i could kill melissa, because she doesn't deserve my sister anyway and when you are lucky enough to have something you don't deserve should at the least be able to realize how damn lucky you are. i hate broken hearts, but we had a surprisingly nice visit, especially considering, and maybe she will come back. maybe i will be there. at least every other weekend i will be there. and i think that's good for me. it would be fine i could still see him. come over for an hour or two, watch him play with the kids, have lunch or something, then go home and go to sleep. that would be nice, i don't care about not sleeping over. it's just the total break that i feel like i'm having withdrawals. like drug users, when they quit they still need a little something to help them live.