Actually, I spent the evening (after bitching about everything in the world on this blog) at Tom’s house with a teen-fest, and I feel much better.
But then, how can you NOT feel better when you show up at their house after rehearsal and they’ve made chicken parmasean and they have a gaggle (literally) of teenaged girls there, happy and giggling and thinking the worst thing the world has on offer is a bad hair day?
Tasha brought down three of her friends to hang out, and Sierra was already there, so that made five teenagers with a median age of about 15. They weren’t rolling ecstasy or having sex with the football team or any of the things people say teenagers do. It was more of an estrogen-fest, really. Cutest moment? I come out of the shower dressed for bed and more than ready to go home, let the dogs out, and do some work (which I never did) and one of the girls- I think her name was Heather but I don’t know; they all look alike- said, “Are you spending the night, too? Cool!”
We watched Saw, a horribly macabre movie that actually was interesting. Of course, I called Mardi when I got home so she could talk to me while I checked under the bed and in the bathroom. I’m really not scared of much, but creepy movies with less than random killings spook me.
Anyway, I woke up in a better frame of mind today. It’s amazing how lack of sleep makes me cranky. I am now well-rested and chipper once again, PLUS those of you who read last night’s entry and rushed to my rescue to cheer me up, via e-mail. See, that’s a friend- someone who can slog through all your bitches on your blog and cheer you up.
“You are doing fine. There is a beautiful view from rock bottom! And I think you may be close enough to realize that it cannot possibly be this bad much longer! There will come a day when you will once again have indoor facilities, no tenants (I really hate that word. Residents sounds so much friendlier) and an idea where your life is destined to go. You have a pretty clear idea what will make you happy. That is much more than most people can say. I, for instance, don’t know what will make me happy at this point. Knowing you’re not there isn’t enough… the clue as to what will make you happier makes it easier to find. You know, like using a map to get where you want to go… sure beats driving in a strange city with no idea that the Betty Lane you were just on is NOT the same Betty Lane you are on now! That map can help explain why the scenery changed but not the damn street name! I love you, Cath. And you are doing fine.”
That was Mardi… Carla had a more direct approach:
“OH-MY-GOSH! What the hell is going on with you?!? Yeah, yeah, I know I’m a
little behind in my emails, But seriously, this AND the phone call for an
“estrogen” lunch? We NEED to talk or drink or both.
Thank God you have someone “sane & reasonable” like me to pull you back from
the brinks of insanity and illogic.”
Linda simply sent me an uplifting e-mail. So, you see, between the gaggle o’giggles last night, the gentle talking to from Mardi, Carla’s direct approach, and Linda’s happy mail, I feel much better and wanted to let you know that I’ll try and contain my ravings!
Love you all-