No, not a blow job you filthy-minded bloggie.

Back to BLOGGING se dijo!

… I hope. I miss this land, so I’ll try to blog again, por lo menos un poco, no?

****

Yep, my hiatus has dragged longer than I expected, and you may have noticed–especially you, my long time followers– that I’ve been mostly out of the blogging radar, but I come bearing good gifts. These gifts are for myself though. ha (sorry) I’ll get some for you soon.

I’ve still tried to keep in touch with some of you who I’ve become friends with, but I also miss the other other buddies on here, all of you fellow bloggers and readers. With that said, I don’t think this post is going to be structured, so bare with me.

********

Uh one…

Two…

Three and to the four!

Five, six, seven eight and to the nine!

Nine numbers.

It’s fuckin’ amazing what nine numbers will do for you. Nine little numbers!

The lack of nine little numbers had been the lack of a key for my ball and chain. And now I got it, though I still have a few chains on me. At least one has been released.

What the hell am I talking about?

My Social Security number, the one thing that makes you somewhat of a “person” here in the states. Yep, I FINALLY got my social security number. Twenty-two and a half years living in the states and I finally have one. It specifically states that I’m only under “work authorization” though. Funny how a number will make you a person, like the 14th Amendment made black slaves five fifths of a person instead of four fifths of a person.

****

Anywho, back in July, when I wrote about Obama signing an executive order for deferred action for childhood arrivals, back when I nearly peed and shit my pants in disbelief and excitement, I still doubted this day would come. Barred from everything, even being able to “legally” work had worsened my depression. Who wouldn’t be down after graduating college, after becoming the family’s first generation college grad, and THEN having no job because you can’t “legally” get employed. Not having any money, hardly any for rent because of nine little numbers. You’d be blue rightfully so. But I was more than blue. And you long-time-bloggie-friends know how much beyond blue.

I was in hell. And now I’m out of hell. Been so for a few months now. So I’m out of hell and… and… in a job!

Yep, so back in January, I actually got my “work authorization card” (in the back of the card it reads: “This card is not evidence of U.S. Citizenship or permanent residence”). But I didn’t get around to blogging about it. And when I finally spent a day at the SSI office and all that jizzazz, I didn’t write about it either. But I REALLY wanted to. I REALLY did!

So much has been changing though. I’m exhausted.

********

About a day or two BEFORE my social security number aka SSI card arrived in the mail (peed my pants again), I had a job interview. Yep BEFORE. I’m a hustler. And thanks to a lovely friend. Love you. And I was called back the same day! The boss fella wanted me to work right away. Of course, I had to go through all this logistical shit, background check and whatnot. I even got asked why I’m not a “legal permanent resident” by HR. Face palm ten times!

So here I am now. Two weeks into work. I just finished my second week this Thursday. It’s part time,so I only go into the office three days a week. That’s ok though,  because considering my physical and mental conditions, part-time is more than enough for me to handle. Don’t think I could handle more, at least not right now. Besides, I’m free to freelance now! I’ve been on elance, odesk, freelancer.com and all those sites preppin’ up my portfolio. I even started a new blog related to my profession!

****

So where is P putting her skills to practice? At a community college. I’m working at one of the largest community colleges around here in the states. I’m at the PR department of the regional city-wide college system. I’m kind of like the multimedia girl. Video editing, photography, graphics and design. I’ll be doing a little writing too, mostly technical.

It’s been a hectic two weeks but I’m proud of myself. Damn proud.

Advertisements

I’ve been feeling rather dizzy lately, albeit “stable”. When I say life’s been better these days, I’m talking about stability–emotional and mental stability. I’ve cried a few times in the last three/four weeks, but it hasn’t been a gut wrenching, shake inducing phenomenon followed by an all-encompassing emptiness and urge to die. In other words, I’m not laughing and jumping ups and down and then wanting to jab a knife into my neck. I want to live! I want life!

A few good things are happening too. Good is such a relative word. But anyway, other than having blogger’s block, I’m keeping busy. Therapy, swimmin’, washing dishes, cleaning up, reading, immigration paperwork, rolling around with Luna, trying to keep her from rolling around on her own poo and then licking me. Shit like that.

This past week was really nice. I mean nice. Just “happy days” where I don’t give a damn about the bullshit in my life, in life. I wasn’t particularly happy about one thing, except for maybe the fact that the immigration situation, the work permit, is becoming a reality despite the hold-ups. (Yeah, I’ll mention those later as I always say I’ll do).

All I have to say is this and you can stop reading the rest of my nonsense:

Fool, I’m feelin’ fresh like fuckin’ Fonzie here! On the plus size, I also feel aaaaaliiiiiive. I’m mostly high on life; not just merely existing.

********

I’ve had one of those weeks where I can laugh at humanity and not be too cynical about it. “Child,” I tell myself, “these are happy days aren’t they?” Yes, yes yes. the Mouse nods in agreement. I have to. This year has been hell–like much of my other twenty-six years– and I’ve finally driven out of hell, or so it seems. I’m always a bit suspicious though. I suppose what matters is that I am presently feeling pleasant, feeling calm. I’m ok.

My mood has just been too good to be true. And I’m not even on drugs… wait, I kinda am. But anyway.

And we all have our quirks, our little weird secrets (though some more than others). Don’t we?

What the hell do I mean? People are strange. That’s what I’m sayin’.

A strange week with (MOSTLY) good feeling. Let me start with Monday–this is last Monday, October first.

*******

The Monday Mentals

Monday began, and as usual, I went to the gym where my mom works to do my daily swim. I’ve been keeping track of how many laps I do. I told the therapist this and she said it’s a great idea to look back on my progress. Chronic pain gets in the way of this sometimes, but anyway. I’d planned on doing some blogging after my swim only I had the bloggin’ block going on in my head. And like Sara Draws says, I think I’m getting the “brain rot”. (Back on Lamotrigine after a week off of it).

I just can’t seem to sketch or play the ukulele or write, except for now. I’m writing now, ain’t I? I don’t know.

My brother and I are building our relationship again, after a major fight involving him saying he wanted me out of his life because of something impulsive I did. I’m glad we’re talking again. And we’re not just talking; we’re “friends” again. He’s been calling me up every couple of days or so and asking if I want him to pick me up to go over his apartment.

Ever since Monkey Man’s death, he’s been there for me, more or less. That’s what I love about my family. Things get crazy between us sometime, like when mama busted my brother’s nose throwing a phone at him (not a cellphone) and then he…or when I… ugh.. I’ll leave the rest for a private post. But what I’m saying is my family is here for me. And I realize that now. I always have, it’s just the depression gets in the way of these things–of FEELING the good things around you. Of feeling the love of those in your life. Of truly absorbing life, takin’ each breath and feeling the oxygen fill your lungs, pumping through your cells, in your blood, in your veins and fueling the engine that is your heart.

****

My brother called me Monday and asked if I’d come over. I said sure, since I’m working on being a little more open. Once we settled in his apartment, we started watching Alien, the original 1979 version. All was good until he asked me to try some wine he’d bought. Well, I said to myself “P, you don’t get a chance to drink fine wine often. You’re doing well. Just half a glass.”

“Only half a glass,” the Mouse whispered. But…Half a glass turned into nearly three-fourths of the bottle and I got drunk. Really drunk. I was still fine though, just enjoying myself. It was a surprise, actually, to feel “happy drunk” because usually I become a somewhat psychotic and “angry drunk” or a very depressed drunk.

My bro went off to bed because he had to work early in the morning and I sat there on the floor with my wine, clicking around Netflix until I saw MAD MAX 2: THE ROAD WARRIOR!  Mel Gibson was still a young, sexy actor who wasn’t as misogynistic as he is now. But then again, I don’t know for sure. Shit, I digress.

****

So I was watching Mad Max: Road Warrior with Mel Gibson, getting drunker, lickin’ every last drop. Then I got heavy-eyed and figured I’d go to bed. By then it was probably midnight and my brother was asleep. I went over to my brother’s spare room and then to the restroom to brush my teeth, and that’s when I decide to start reading some blogs instead of curling up on the futon. Around this time is when the mentals hit me like a spear to the spine.

I was reading one of my favorite poet-bloggies and she had a link to this music duo. I dug it, so I looked ’em up on YouTube. I found THISIt’s the duo singing a cover of Elliott Smith’s “Between the Bars”. This here–this song, Between the Bars— is a song that has an intense affect on me. I was learning how to play it on the uke back in December before I headed to Florida; before I got facial paralysis; before I became increasingly depressed; before I broke my arm; but most importantly, before Monkey Man died. And if you guys have read about what happened to Monkey Man, all those depressing posts I wrote about him… yeah. It’s been six months already!

A song that was once dedicated to Monkey Man–that now rings truer than it did in December–turned on the PLDs and maybe some of the borderline in me came out. I immediately snapped and picked a paperclip from  my brother’s desk. You can imagine what happened next. But the paperclip wasn’t good enough, so I ended up in the kitchen with a bloody knife and a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. I don’t remember much after cleaning up the sink except I wrapped my arm in toilet paper and went to bed (the futon) crying.

Here’s the strange part. The next day, I was fine again. I had to keep my arm from sight when my dad picked me up, but otherwise, I was back to my cheery self.

I found a sketch of a monkey with a guitar that I drewcbefore running into the song and it’s terribly cute. Just above the crooked ears I must’ve drunkenly scribbled. It reads: T.H.L 1984-2012

****

Wonderful Wednesday

Tuesday. I’m not gonna bother recapping Tuesday since it was just a chill day, apart from swimming fourteen laps and hiding a still-bleeding gash on my T-Rex-Duck arm.

Wednesday… Wednesday was wonderful. There’s a happy day.

My friend Sandy came over with her little three-year old boy. I hadn’t seen them in months. I had finished ten laps earlier that day and was feeling like things really are turning up. So Sandy came by with sushi which we ate. We then watched a kiddie movie and talked. I think we were more into the movie than her boy. She’s very different from me, Sandy, but despite that, we get along pretty well.

Sometimes I can only get so much of her though, but I’ve been pretty social lately, so my anxiety about people is subdued a bit and my patience has grown a bit. I’m still a very anxious person; I’m still having lots of anxiety, but as long as I’m not having panic attacks, as long as it’s not crippling I think it’s manageable. I’m good to go.

After she left, B came by and we talked. Here’s where Sandy and B differ. B and I can have very deep conversations: we’re like-minded. He’s a very intelligent fella and he gets my sick sense of humor which is always a plus in a friendship (for me at least).

That was Wednesday. Nice, peaceful and full of camaraderie.