Friday, July 29, 2005


I spent all evening in the ER with my father - he took a fall...broke his right hip - will have to have surgery of course - terrible news for someone with a bad left hip and Parkinson's...

He's hooked up to an EKG right now, they think something to do with his heart or circulation has something to do with why he blacked out and ended up waking up on the floor...

I'm so upset right now... and I feel really really lonely... and I'm crying and not sure how or when I'm going to stop...

I feel horrible for him...

Anyway. yeah.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

i want my own private island. NOW

Today sucked on so many levels...

I'm totally bawling right now... I spent most of the day at the VA with my dad... Neurologist this time. Which is the number one pressing issue.

CAT scan came back - apparently he's had many small strokes... which is why he's having so many issues... when they took his socks off to look at his feet I about lost it - they were bright purple and so swollen... I had to turn around and wipe tears away...

He mentioned to me if they take his feet/legs he'd rather be dead...

I know he's got serious medical problems, but today just really got to me... there's nothing I can do for him...

They tried to talk him into a walker again and he refused... he's too proud...

The one good thing that happened today is the docs finally managed to talk him into meds for depression - I was so grateful I could have kissed the doctor... I hope to god this helps...

I'm so totally sad, and tired, and worn out, and worried and I just don't know how to cope right now... and I don't want to talk to anyone because all I can do is cry and its just stupid and I don't want to be high maintenance. And there's nothing anyone can do anyway... I almost called my mom but then she'd just worry, and its not fair to worry her just because I am having issues coping with LIFE.

And dude, I should KISS OFF because I have nothing to be upset about, its HIM that has to deal with this shit on a first hand basis, so why in the hell am I so damn upset when I have no right to be - I need to be strong for HIM.

I hate to say it, because I hate him, and I don't want him OBVIOUSLY, but I really miss being married and having someone to lean on when this shit happens... he was an abusive asshole 99 % of the time, jealous and manipulative, a liar and a batterer... but I feel really alone right now...

People try to make me feel better with "Oh my uncle had a stroke" or "Oh my grandpa was really sick and now he's better" and it just pisses me off because its like DUDE, its not about your Uncle or Grandpa or whatever this is about my DAD and can something just be about me and how I feel, just ONCE???

Life is not a big fucking comparison all the time... not when its something like this that just takes my heart and fucking squashes it - I'd do ANYTHING for him to just be well... and I can't.... and that's why it sucks. So don't fucking ONE UP ME or tell me you know how you feel because you FUCKING DON'T know what its like for me... to see your mirror image, the man that gave you so much just fucking wilt away in the worst way possible... this is so HELL for him... I can't think of a worse disease for him...

I just want to be taken care of, and I don't know how to let this happen... and I don't even know if I really want it. Just like him I'm too fucking proud... I probably don't. I don't know what I want, except I want to stop hurting...

I'm making no sense, and this will probably be deleted when I get some composure back, but writing is all I have right now... just words...

Why is it that sometimes it feels like words are my only friend?

I swear to god i'm going to crack... I want to hide away forever and not see anyone ever again... I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

Dear World:


Sincerely yours (with my white flag and two fingers raised high),

Monday, July 11, 2005


I'm currently feeling pulled in two different directions... like this should be nothing new.
Now that the last chapter of my so-eventful life is officially over, its got me thinking - what kind of life do I really WANT?

Because I'm free to do whatever I want.

I could now accept that really exciting job offer, writing where the winds take me... that I gave up because my ex couldn't handle it. I could go whenever I wanted. I could be as bohemian and flaky and irresponsible as I want. I want to seriously take up guitar again, drink beer in dive bars, buy a motorcycle... I could write the next "On the Road". I could live it.

But I had this other realization... and its a weird one. I want to be domestic. I want a little house with a backyard where I can have all kinds of fuzzy babies and I could grow my own veggies and take naps in the sun and read books all day.

So which do I want?

I don't have a fucking clue. So I'll walk the line until I figure it out. They both seem so terribly important to me... And I can only have one.

Monday, July 4, 2005

Spooky Sundays... the stuff Legend is made of.

Yes, I am home before one.

Random highlights of the evening:

1. Threatening mass suicide in the bathroom the first hour, if they wouldn't stop playing the damn depressing goth and play some stompy shit we can dance to.

2. Brie's goals of the evening - a. to have a $60 bar tab, b. to "make out with a hot boy." Both were achieved.

3. Talking to the guy Brie's been lusting over - to discover - yep, he's probably gay, and if he's not he's a total sissy.

4. Having above mentioned "hot boy" 's 30 something friend try to impress me with all of his name dropping of 80's/90's punk bands that he is "friends with". Laugh secretly inside as I think of how many of them played at my own damn club.

5. Laugh even harder when he wants you to join his band who sounds like "Lydia Lunch." Guess what? Any band that tells you they sound like Lydia Lunch SUCKS BALLS.

6. Taco Bell Debauchery. Have two drunken young men proclaim to us, as we sit in the drive through in my beloved Grandmamobile, that they are eating "THE BEST TACOS EVER" and "I LOVE YOU! CAN WE HAVE *YOUR* TACOS?" Patiently explain to Brie the connotations of said comment as she's too drunk to understand.

7. Get home early and not a MINUTE too soon. Heh.

Friday, July 1, 2005

My dad rocks.

I get a voicemail on my phone...

"Hi Sara, It's just me. Do you think you could bring by some blasting powder tonight? Thanks."

So I call my dad back and I go, "Sure dad, I'll bring you whatever you want, but I don't know what exactly it is you need..."

Him: "Oh... you know, that Milk of Magnesia stuff."

HA!!! RAD!!!! Blasting Powder! HAHAHAHA

In other news, work is extremely torturous this afternoon. Half the office, okay, OVER half, is already gone on vacation, most of the people I know are either getting off early or gone.... GAH! Torture I tell you!

Fez tonight! Woo! That's about all that's getting me through... the promise of a good time...