It rained on Monday. Not for long, but enough for me to get wet. On the contrary to the famous Carpenters song, the rain made me happy. Everything gets greener, even here in the desert. And the greens and greys comfort my soul. And I love not having to squint.
July 3rd marked one year since we lost my father. I thought it would get better, but somehow it got worse. It doesn’t help that the step-family made off with our inheritance and still fight us on the pittance they can’t get out of giving us. And they auctioned off belongings that meant nothing to them, but would have been precious to us. A man called us that bought his computer because he’s honorable and worried they sold it with all his private data. The misery won’t end. We aren’t allowed to move on.
And then there’s the literal state of the Union. We’re looking into immigrating to Canada or France. Seriously looking. Before there’s a civil war or this lunatic starts Workd War three, or hands us to the Russians. Of course, my heart belongs to England, but there’s no way in. (If you know of a way, and you help me, you can have my first born child. Possibly an empty promise, but there nonetheless.)
I’ve realized I have no friends. Oh sure, there are people that love me, and I’m not belittling that, but there is no one that is a constant part of my life, nor is there anyone that seems to want the job. Sometimes I think I talk to customers at work too much because of a basic human need for connection. One I’ve never needed before. But I had friends then. I’m not sure what to do about it.
I had a beautiful friend, but I seem to have lost her when I got particularly sick. I feel her loss keenly. And it hurts more than I like to admit. There’s a lot I don’t want to admit. Maybe I never will. But I miss her like a lost limb. She was/is so VERY precious to me. I do hope to get her back one day.
But I should probably focus on making new friends. Don’t know how. Reluctant to trust, and feel like I’d be imposing. And I’m surrounded by so much death. Makes me wary. But for my health I should probably reach out.
The Bloggess, Jenny Lawson, helps a lot. She makes me laugh (and cry and choke) when no one else can. She touches the inner part of me that’s normal. Well, normal for me. I’ve never been everyone else normal. But I have always been cool with that. Other people can be really dull.
However, my sister has always rolled her eyes at me because I follow rules. She is completely intolerant of my strict rule adherence. Despite having a strong adventure streak and a big love of random travel, I get my Apple stuff fixed at Apple, and not the shady dude at the kiosk. I was home at curfew. Which was seriously lax, so why not? I remember when a terrible Tom Cruise movie made me late for curfew because it was LONG before mobile phones and I was so furious that I’d wasted time at that awful film my mom was all shocked and I didn’t even get in trouble. I think I may have called her from a pay phone at the theater after the film to let her know I was on my way. But I still hate that film. Because it was awful, but also because it made me late. It was Rainman. And it SUCKED.
I work at Lush now. I have crap hours and insulting pay, but other than that I really dig the job. I know, it’s a shop. But it’s so much more than that. I work with all these quirky and kind people. And my company is fighting animal testing and when we have a naked campaign, stores actually have people just wearing their aprons. There’s corporate in Canada, and I’m thinking that’s where I want to go. Unless I decide on France and then store manager and stuff might have to do.
It rained again this morning. The thunder was so loud that it woke me and I was pleased. I laid there sleepily and just enjoyed the sound of the rain on the roof and side of the house, and the continuing thunder. It was so lovely. It was even loud enough that I could hear it over the constant rain sounds I have on 24/7 in my bedroom anyway to help me calm down enough to sleep. I wish it had lasted longer, but I’m glad it was here. When I went out hours later to get the mail, it was sprinkling and there was a lovely smell in the air and the dogs got soggy- but not so soggy they got smelly.
I’m listening to Jenny read her book Furiously Happy as I write. I’ve already read it, but I love hearing her tell her story. I highly recommend her books. Although she just rambled on about rum cake and now I want rum cake and that won’t happen till like December. Damn. I want cake. I refuse to bake one. Cooking for one is just depressing.
I’m trying not to play grid games. I’m winning, but I hate it. I want to play. Who knows how long I’ll last.
So why are people flipping their shit that the new Doctor Who is a woman? It’s not Peter Capaldi anymore, and Moffat stepped down as showrunner, so this is all a win. Season eight and nine were APPALLING. And Broadchurch is amazing. (New showrunner and Doctor from there.) So there’s every chance this will work.
I want to go hide under the covers now. I’ll read something that takes me away, or watch something that takes me away, or break down and get out the computer and log on to the grid.