lived

There are moments in life that just make you feel alive. Moments that thrill every cell of your body and make you FEEL.

Last night was a normal night, I drove in insane traffic back from a Temp job across the city, made myself some dinner, met up with friends, saw a comedy show... and it felt very, well, mundane. Enjoyable, yes- but mundane.

Then, at 1:30 in the morning I was driving home from the show, alone in the car and flicked on the radio. Usually Saturday night radio is less than awesome- lots of techno re-mixes of popular songs, which are fine when dancing, but not quite my thing-

Instead I turned on the radio to the openening strains of Journey.

Now... this song is total crap. And I love it. It is a song that has played throughout my life in moments of utter happiness.


Just a small town girl living in a lonely world
She took the midnight train going anywhere...


The song makes me feel both nostalgic and hopeful and full of readiness for what is next.

Images of myself at my happiest flash through my head-

Me dancing with my sister in Scotland, me singing in the car with Kendra through the streets of Chicago and on the road to Los Angeles, belting it aloud with Dan the day Jimmy left for Dallas, carpe noctum road trips to the beach with Justin and Lucas, singing with my new brother in-laws at my wedding, dancing our hearts out at a bar with Helen and Kendra here in LA...


and last night when it came on the radio- that first line had me choked up. And then it hit me like a fucking lightning bolt.



I make my own choices... and those choices are one's I can live with and be happy with.

And then I started belting into to fist/microphone down the 101 towards the cell-block I've called home in Van Nuys.

Sometimes life feels like it is full of burden and hardship- and sometimes it feels ike it all is worth it. Every, every second of it.





Just a city boy born and raised in South Detroit
He took the midnight train going anywhere

A singer in a smokey room the smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night.
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting up down the boulevard.
Their shadows searchin in the night
Streetlight people living just to find emotion
Hiding somewhere in the night

Working hard to get my fill everybody wants a thrill
Payin anything to roll the dice. Just one more time.
Some will win some will lose some were born to sing the blues.
Oh the movie never ends. It goes on and on and on and on...

Don´t stop believing.
Hold on to the feeling.
Streetlight people.

baffled

so.

I have been steadily climbing out of the melancholy "I miss my husband" thing into a blind rage. I get ragier and ragier and I think today I hit the ceiling.


First of all let me give you a quote that really hit home today: "All my dreams came true. I just didn't think them through."




SO.

Last week my mom called me to figure out my money situation- I just turned 25, my insurance with the family is up, my car insurance is up my student loans are due... just everything. So we talked about it- made a plan. Are trying to be smart and savvy and not get me (or her) in the hole.

So today- I get a call from my husband (with whom I have been fighting with non-stop over the phone for two weeks, it is miserable) who tells me that he and my dad (MY DAD) called one another today to figure out the details for my insurance issues.

And I say, "Wait, what?"

And he says, "Your Dad asked me to put you on my insurance since he cant keep you on his. He wants me to claim you."

And I say, "Wait, wait- what?"

And he says, "Well, you have to change your name for me to claim you. I'm not going to go to my insurance guy and say, 'I need to add Kate Grady, she's my wife.' How is that going to seem? So, it's either that or you find your own insurance."




And I say, "WAIT. What?"


Now, maybe I lost it because it had been two weeks of fighting, and maybe I lost it because of the words he chose and maybe I lost it because it was HIGH TIME I FUCKING LOST IT.

But in any event, I did. Lose it.

I saw black. Now, most people when they get mad see red. Not me. I see black. It is like I am going to erupt with vicious words and punches.

Instead, I think I was clenching my hands so hard I cut myself with my fingernails.


First of all:

a) what are you THINKING calling my FATHER to plan my life for me in any aspect? ANY?!?! What is this? The middle ages? Were you also going to ask for my dowry of six chickens and a plot of farm land? WHAT?! WHAAAAAAT!!!!!

b) I know 'Claim' is a term people use for taxes and finances and shit... but no. The way he used it, he meant it in the cave-man way. "YOU, WIFE. ME, CLAIM YOU. UGH."

c) Changing my name has been an argument for some time. You see, I am perfectly okay with women changing their names. I think it is a lovely sign of solidarity, of making your lives into one family... etc. etc. At first in October I was all psyched to change it. I was ready to be a team! Yeah! Team Cadenas. Five months into the marriage and it's a different story.


(Here is a little background so I don't sound like a crazy person.)

Sept: Get married! Yeah!
Oct: Honeymoon! Yeah!
November: Move to LA! Ye- wait. What? Jimmy isn't coming? Jimmy wants to wait another two years? Where did this come from? Wait wait wait!!!
December: I am in LA. Jimmy is in Dallas. Jimmy isn't ready to come unless I am making the big bucks.
January: I am still alone here. Jimmy thinks it may be a year before he comes.


now... I WAS really excited to be a part of US, a part of the duo... now that the 'Coming to LA' date is set back further and further for him... I just feel like changing my name before he comes is like a dog pissing on a tree. It is more like he is marking his territory than it actually meaning anything real.

If I changed it now I would resent it. If I change it when he comes I would feel it was a show of my love.

Maybe that's selfish or something, I honestly don't know.

Now, we have had this fight/talk about the name thing for WEEKS... and he finally got my point as of Sunday night- which was a very short lived understanding.

Now he has given me an ultimatum,

"I have to put my foot down somewhere, Kate. I love you, but I'm not giving you the perks of being married until you have my name."



Seriously?

No, really. Seriously?





Thankfully I kept my cool enough to shut my mouth on the phone and just wait until he was done talking, said goodbye, and hung up.












I am losing my shit here, people. LOSING MY SHIT.

I feel like someone took a baseball bat to my head and just kept wailing on me. I cant see clearly enough to act rationally. I cant figure out how I feel. Betrayed? Abused? Guilty? Angry? Manipulated? I am a jumble and I am a mess and I am seriously seriously seriously... something that has no defined word.

I have never felt this way in my life. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.






I am self medicating with Beny&Jerry's and Pride & Prejudice. Lot's of &'s tonight.


_______________________________________

UPDATE:

Jimmy called, apologized profusely and then said,

"I just wanted to take the opportunity to put a little more pressure on you about it, I guess. You can still be added to my insurance."


Um... what a fucking jackass. How does one simultaneously want to punch someone in the face and hug the shit out of them?



Seriously, are men all idiots by choice? Are we flawed on the most basic level to be able to love them anyway?

engulfed

So I love to read, right? You know that about me. I LOVE it. I eat books for breakfast.

A fact that few people know is that I love those crappy romance books. I mean, I LOVE good books- but there is just something about those fabio-covered shit piles that oogle at you in the super market that knock my mental socks off. They are fun and frivolous- but I love them.

Does that change people's opinions about me? Maybe. Do I care much? No.

These books have lots of upsides.

- They enrich my vocabulary (There are LOTS of old fashioned words used since the one's I like best are set in other times)
- They fill a gap in your day when you are waiting for something and just need a brain rest
- They are full of funny parts that make me laugh out loud (Most books are hard to laugh aloud at, but these books have no qualms about being honestly silly)
- The women I've met who love them like I do- are really fucking awesome people
- They have hot sex scenes, I know too much information, but common! (Since I am physically separated from my husband, it's nice to have a little steaminess in my days)

Anyway. I eat books. Any book, but those are my abashed, and not-so abashed favorites.

Also, I read uncommonly fast. This weekend alone (Friday, Saturday and Sunday- admittedly I did stay up late nights to cram in more words) I read nine books cover to cover. Now, lots of people accuse me of skimming, or skipping or something else absurd- I don't. I read every word. My brain caresses them. I am engulfed by them while I read. I am in that place, that time, I am that person- I feel those things. I am lost in the read world for those few hours and I LOVE it.

The only bad part about it is finishing a book and feeling that little sense of loss, that the book is done. But a fresh uncracked spine is something to get goosebumps over.

This weekend I read the whole eight book series of Sookie Stackhouse (True Blood), I read Northern Lights (A WONDERFUL book) and I read a book called "A Lady's Secret"- which was about a runaway countess pretending to be a nun who cant stop swearing and thus gets found out and blackmailed by a man who finds her intriguing, la di dah- they fall in love amidst a lot of sword fighting and swashbuckling and fancy dresses. How can you not enjoy something like that?

Seriously.

Now I am out of books. I've read everything I have in Kendra's apparent and trying to find good things to read online... but that's harder to do than you'd think. There is WAY more crap on the Internet- worse than the worst book ever published.

Thus I am stuck writing a blog about how I love to read instead of continuing reading.


boo. I want to take all the books I have and trade them in, but I feel bad since some of them are gifts. I'll just wait and nibble on the Internet until my next paycheck comes to supplement my book habit.

Yes, ladies and gentleman. Habit.

I love reading more than I love smoking. More than I love eating or drinking or sleeping or anything. I would trade a lot for two fresh books a day. I have my priorities a little out of place... maybe. It's hard to judge for me when I'm salivating over the idea of a new book.

mmmm.... new book. Yes, please.

spamed

So, often I think:

"Kate, that's a terrific idea! You're a genius." And decide to do something that turns out to be one of two things.

1) Amazing, like it came from the lips of a Greek god
2) Stupid, like it came from a urine soaked bum

In 2009 I have tried (in so many days) to not do anything that falls into category #2. Sadly, today breaks that streak.

You see, dear reader (all... well, two of you) I got a Christmas present from my best friend Sharriese. She was super awesome (unlike me), in our poor youth, to send her friends (me) gifts this year. She sent a very nice handmade card with a anime-type portrait of me along with four sets of cute earrings and a big slogan saying, "Yo Style is Fresh!"

Which is hysterical and a pleasant card to get.

So having these new spangly earrings I decide I should wear them... mind you I had my ears pierced in three places in 2002 and two places in 2005 and then I let all my piercings close because they were a hassle and kept getting infected because I am allergic to metals.  

Does that matter to me when faced with cute new earrings? No.

Instead I decide to re-pierce my ears myself in the bathroom.

SON OF A BITCH.

My ears, while cute and stylish, are ever increasing shades of red. I fear I will wake up with crusty grossness and ugly over-sized infected lobes.

Worth it?

Probly not.

Still keeping the earrings in?

You betcha.



Am I an idiot at 25?

For sure.

Do I really need to be super sophisticated and make good choices every second of every day?
Maybe... and no.



Life is odd. I know the consequences and yet I cant seem to  control my inner eleven year old telling me how pretty I'll look. Honestly, my head is so big even the huge ass earrings I'm wearing look tiny. So, really- the effect is minimal. But I enjoy it. The little thing that it is with the annoying and painful consequence... I'll take it today.



I also have the urge to take a pair of scissors to my hair... but I'll save that for another urine-soaked-bum idea moment.