I was your silver lining, but now I’m gold.

“The clothes she wears misfit, and she’s nervous when she speaks. Her zombie mom and dad live in a separate house of freaks. I woke you up and I slit the throat of your confidence, and we laughed in the night, and I felt alright.” – Third Eye Blind

I’ve been listening to this band since this morning; I forgot how good this album was. Used to listen to this and The Verve Pipe pretty much all the time (remember that song, “The Freshman” about the girl and the suicide and something about an abortion? All the feelings). Shame, though, that Third Eye Blind still tries to be relevant and… is just… not (seriously, though. They just released an EP called “Dopamine” and… it’s horrible).

Someone has been drinking the hater-ade, friends. And IT’S ME. (By the way, the rest of this post is random complaints and musings. Prepare yourselves.)

There’s just a lot… too much… a lot going on. The court saga continues with my mom; this time, it’s the lawyer bills. $16,000 from one and $13,000 from the other. My mother’s lawyer says, in kindly-lawyer-speak, that if we can pay in 30 days, he’ll reduce to $8,000. Oh, if I could find that money tree. I know I planted it somewhere. It’s not that I have this burden all on my shoulders; my siblings and I are trying to work whatever out. But I feel bad for everyone involved. My mom called me today and told me to talk to her social worker again so that she could get passes. And I’ve been busy, but I also am avoiding calling the social worker, because I don’t know that my mom should get passes to come and go as she pleases, because I don’t know that she’s well enough to do so. I’ve been going through her records little by little, but the whole thing just makes me sad.

My dad, last week, offered to tell me about my mom when they were younger, and it made me feel even worse. It’s not like my mom is dead. She’s alive; I just don’t know her, and I don’t feel like I can ask her a lot, because I don’t know what’s true or not. But he said that she was very much into gardening.

So, there you go. My mother, the gardener.

The thing that weighs is that we were just trying to help. We were trying to get her out of a bad situation and ended up just making it fuckin’ WORSE. If this were a movie, this would be about the time that maybe I did some coke, ’cause fuck it, it looked tasty.

But I’m not one for nose jobs, so we’ll stick with an edited-for-content feature.

Hopefully this will all work out, the way we imagined. With, like, rainbows and puppies and shit.

Speaking of rainbows, yay for marriage equality! ‘Bout damn time. I would change my Facebook profile picture to reflect such a rainbow-esque filter, but then I’d have to change it when the next issue came around, so I’ll just be lazy and… not do that.

But yes, I am very happy that finally there is one love and all the associated hashtags. And maybe straight people can learn a thing or two, because Lord knows that we’ve fucked up love and marriage and relationships so much that we don’t even recognize true commitment anymore.

But maybe I’m being overcritical because I’m in – for the first time, maybe – (what appears to be?) a healthy relationship. I’ve never been so scared of fucking everything up and so at peace at the same time. That’s not to say shit won’t go down, that everything is rainbows and puppies and shit, because… hello, I live and love in the same world that you do, but… perhaps, for the first time, I don’t feel the need to chase what I want. I spent years chasing affection from all different sources. And sometimes I still get caught up in that cycle, but I’m getting to be much better at recognizing and breaking it. It’s about knowing your worth, and believing that you are worth something. Be something to someone, sure, but above all, be something for  yourself.

(Eh. I feel lofty and unqualified, like Dr. Phil. Sorry.)

But! Today, my sister came to visit me at work, and since she really (no really) wants to meet the boy, she was like, “Hey, mom and I will be downtown again for dinner… maybe you and he could come?” And even though, technically, he’s meeting my parents in one week, he was totally flexible about arranging dinner plans and making my sister happy. I told him it meant a lot to me that he was able to be awesome about it, and he said… HE SAID, “You mean a lot to me.”


I guess all of the stuff is just part of the ebb and flow. And maybe I’d like more ebb and less flow. Or more flow and less… ebb? I’m not sure. I’m PMSing. It’s the worst. I’m just really glad that I have supportive people around, because it truly makes all the difference.

Have a good night, friends. Be kind to yourselves. And know that you are beautiful and amazing and worthy of love, and friendship, and winning the lottery (just putting all the good vibes out there).

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