Rachael’s Personal Meditation For Monday:
Today I will Terrorize my Inner Child
Couldn’t sleep last night. Not exactly a headline is it.
At midnight I took a Restoril after being involved in an IM conversation for about 30 minutes with Scott W.
For some reason Ambien and Lunesta don’t have much effect on me. So Doctor Abu Havasquishy prescribed the Restoril. It’s an older sleeping medication… and praise be to Allah it worked. Of course the night before it worked but only for two hours, then I woke up at 4:00 am with creepy-crawlies and the committee having a meeting in my head.
Tried to relax with a bowl of dry cereal. Gluten Free ’cause I’m fucking old and my body seems to reject anything tasty except for men. Sadly they don’t seem to be in season.
This brings me to why I woke up at 7:00 am this morning, despite having managed only 10 hours of sleep total within the prior 72 hours.
“Hello Laura?” says a male voice, which I seem to vaguely recognize.
“Uhhhhh no.” It takes a moment to remember that I am in fact NOT Laura. “This is Rachael.”
“Oh. This is Glen. Hi Rachael. I thought that I was calling my realtor. Um, really I’m not calling other women.” He laughs uncomfortably.
Glen is the guy who took me to dinner last night. A pleasant evening at Washoe Steak House. Here I thought that he was a nice guy because he gave just me a simple peck on the lips after our date. I was home by 7:30 thinking “Coolness. He didn’t try to cop a feel in exchange for the Filet Mignon.”
Apparently because he’s banging Laura. heh.
39th Birthday Again ™
Note the Tiara please.
Excuse me while I take a bite out of this Godiva truffle.
Yum. Dark Chocolate in this one.
On Friday the UPS man delivered a box of 18 Godiva truffles from my dearest friend Nijole. She of
Toronto fame and even more neurotic than myself. Her teenage daughter makes mine seem like Mother Teresa. So far of course. Hers will probably grow out of the anger thing as mine becomes more entrenched in hers.
These are the absolute decadence, the truffles not my daughter, and no I did not tell Miss Cate that they’re in the house. I may look like a Dumbass but occasionally I have lucid moments of genius.
Saturday I was supposed to have a date with Scott, which I was very much looking forward to. No not Asshole Scott ™, a different Scott. Due to a comedy of errors we both believed that we had been stood up by the other. Dammit.
I had decided to see ej aka adverb at Waldens no matter what. So for the first time in more than 6 weeks I donned make-up, a short skirt, black stockings, my non-PC cashmere fur-trimmed sweater and a favorite pair of FMPs. Sure I still looked haggard and plump from the surgery but I felt somewhat better. Nothing cheers a woman like black stockings and a hot pair of stiletto pumps.
Walked into Waldens and saw James. Ah, a friendly kind face.
EJ sounded great and ran through an hour long set. He wished me a happy birthday and played Sorry as his last song, although I know that he is utterly burned out on it. He knows that I like it which makes this the best present I could’ve received. Thanks EJ. You’re the best.
I was exhausted after being out for an entire hour and went home. Seeing friends was so nice though. Thank you James. Thanks Fran and Todd too.
On Sunday morning, the Official 39th Birthday Again ™ I was awoken by the Vegetarian Child of the Damned and her best friend the Emo Non-Vegetarian child of the Damned.
“Mom! There’s a present on the front porch. Let me bring it to you!”
She brings in a huge bag whose contents made me smile a stupid grin. A card from Robert was enclosed wishing me a Happy Birthday.
Two thoughtful and girly-perfect gifts and a box of cake mix, party horns, party poppers, a birthday cake and TWO cans of icing.
Little Known Fact: I do not like cake. I DO like icing.
Robert you rock.
Received phone calls and emails from friends and family. I didn’t do much during the day. My daughter and her friend occupied each other. They’re going through a Marilyn Manson phase right now. The neighbors must adore me and are surely grateful for the fine and amazingly loud speakers on my kid’s computer.
Another friend came by with a very hip shirt he’d picked out for me in
Seattle. The artwork was 50’s style pin-up. One of my favorite genres.
Then I watched a movie with the Two Children of Emo Angst.
I’m going to stop isolating and finally hang with Rebecca tomorrow. Ah, we seem to be twin children of different mothers. I adore her already. Another brilliant neurotic recovering whack-job. It takes one to know one. You betcha. So that’s going to be 3 instances, within 3 days, of interacting with other real live human beings.
Three! Count ’em! Three!
So today I feel tired and as usual am stressed about my bank account balance and no income. Yeah it’s stupid I know. You’d think I could worry about something important such as making the bed.
Help End Poverty
Eat the Poor
When I grow up I’m going to stop losing every penny to my own bad decisions and the men I become involved with.
Oh wait. That day is here! Of course it’s by default because I’m not involved with a man.
Maybe I’ll change my name to Laura.
By: Elliott Smith
Release date: 18 April, 2000