Returned.

Well now that I slept nine blessed hours and know what the hell is going on I can try to cram 10 days of craziness into one blog entry.

Good things that happened in Florida:

Got to lounge by a couple of hotel pools.

Got to hear all kinds of crazy stories about my Dad's youth and Hell's Angels days. Like, for example, when he was 13 and got kicked out of his town in Alabama - after spending a night in jail the police discovered he was underage and were forced to take him home, apologize to his father and all that. His dad handed him a beer and high fived him. LOL.

I moved dad's 106 lb Magneplanar speakers from his house (they are 6 ft tall) to the FedEx office and mailed them off - feeling like a badass Wonder Woman.

Things that sucked:

Too numerous to mention. Highlights included:
having dad panic over every detail,

getting to the airport 6 hours early because he was freaked out we were going to be late, having to wait an extra 2 hours (besides the 6) due to a huge ass storm - which started precisely at the moment we were to board the plane - and having our luggage SOAKED out on the tarmac as a result - all my dad's leather jackets are fucked now...

Not sleeping.

Explaining to my dad at EVERY meal that I still don't eat meat, as he makes comments like "There's not very much there, sweetie..." hahahah... he's pretty out of it but still rad. :)

Since we've gotten back Dad is liking his apartment very much. The main reason is allllll the ladies there are already chasing him. LOL. The manager lady comes up and introduces herself, and goes "Welcome, wow, Sara didn't tell me you are so handsome!" The residents AND the ladies that work there. Seriously.

I was doing his laundry and I had three different ones come up to me and go, "Are you Sara? I hear your daddy's tall and handsome - can I meet him?" hahahahaha.... We are INFAMOUS dude. The cleaning lady came in and said "Wow, they were right, you are a good lookin' man." He loves this shit of course, and he's totally the big man on campus.

So now I am the geriatric pimp! I just tried to call him and there's no answer - he's probably being wooed and getting some. HA! At least one of us is.

You have to be kidding me.

Online, looking for coffee shops around my dad's house, so I can survive a week in the bunghole of America - aka Florida.

And in my search this is what I find.

Popeye's Chicken & Biscuits - More Info / Map1713 S Pine Ave, Ocala, FL 34474 Category: Coffee

WHAT. THE. FAWK. I am never going to survive a week there. Never ever ever ever.

Cynical

I am tired of assuming that people are genuinely sincere and warm hearted and real and actually care about each other. Being cynical is easier. How do I learn to do that?

I pretty much drugged myself all weekend with booze, and dancing, and flirting, the "club life", and that was a lot more fun than focusing my energy on the shitty things going on. But its not reality. My empty bed is reality. It's all a big dance, seducing each other, or at least attempting to, just to know you're still alive. It's fun and all... but I want more. I need more.

I know that creative people are difficult, I place myself in this category, and I'm drawn to people in this category like we are magnets. I'm moody and mercurial, but I love hard and when I'm feeling it I'm so open it blinds me. I just want to turn it off for a while... I feel like I feel things so much heavier than most people, and I'm TIRED of it. This could totally be angsty b.s., but I don't think so. I think its self-preservation.

I'm so close to the end of so many bad things, and so close to getting my dad out here and being able to focus on making the last months/years of his life good. Hearing how happy he is to hear from me is the only thing that reaches me... the love there... how happy he is just to hear my voice.

I don't need a relationship to feel "full." I've been alone six months now, and just because the scab has been fucked with this past week doesn't mean I should yank it off and bleed all over.

But dammit, it would be nice to be able to be with someone, and feel the electricity, and know that there's no one else on Earth that they would want to stand next to like they want to stand next to you, and someone that exhales their soul in a kiss, and someone that sees you for all the beauty that you are, and every time they look at you they paint a portrait in their mind...

Because that's how it is for me. I'm really *there*. And I miss being there, even though I don't know who it is I'm supposed to just Be with. Even though it scares me.

So where are YOU anyway?

CH4 + 2O2 -- > CO2 + 2H2O

Tonight I am a scientist
Struggling with the formula
To determine if
The velocity of intoxication
Outweighs the ratio of destruction
Tonight I am a doctor
Plotting elective surgery
Choosing how deep I will be cut
If your heart is not connected
To the rest of your body
Tonight I am a composer
Crafting a forgotten symphony
Where minds and mouths
Perform a sacred
And forgotten dance
Soon I will be only Yours
Surrendering to my soul's desire
Hoping that one taste of Bliss
Is enough to balance Hell
Of being Haunted

melodramatic and in need of prozac.

I'm having one of those nights. Just general ennui and angst. The people that I know can that talk me down off the proverbial ledge and not think I am a total lunatic are either way over their phone minutes or its past 11pm on the East coast and they are sleeping.

I sit here, trying to will the phone to ring, and won't pick it up and call someone because I don't want to bother anyone. I hate calling people. but I like to be called. I'm incorrigible.

I'm listening to dark music, wumpscut, KMFDM, Bauhaus... I have snacked on various soy products looking for something to satisfy this soul's craving, brewed a couple cups of chamomile and nothing seems to help.

Tonight I am lonely, and I don't really know why... because I had the best drive home - I took the long way home, and blasted the Cure, and shielded my eyes from the sun and smiled for no reason... now I've crash landed.

I hate when i get like this.

Where all I want is to be gently loved to sleep... and my bed seems huge and empty and the night is so so long.

Robert who?

He made the fatal error of describing those that believe in God as weak.

Now I don't give a fuck what anyone believes. Honest. You can ask anyone that knows me. I've known Brie for a year and the only time I've ever mentioned anything spiritual is when she asked for a school project. I don't think any religion or no religion is good or bad. It's all subjective.

I was raised Catholic, and I can tell you I don't buy into all the fire and brimstone. But do I rag on it? No. It's just not my truth. But spirituality is something very important to me. And I am NOT fucking weak.

Life is not a contest, but I can guarantee you I've been through more shit than most 50 year olds alive today. So fuck that weak shit. And I don't know how someone that has his whole back inked in a Tibetan theme can be so dismissive of what those symbols mean. People in Tibet DIE because they get caught practicing their faith. That big fucking Om he has inked at the top - guess what? That means GOD in Sanskrit you dumb bastard! Just like the one I have inked does!!

All my tattoos have meaning. It would take at least two paragraphs to explain the one on my back. It's not just a pretty fucking picture. I'm not saying you can't tattoo shit just because its a pretty fucking picture, but I'm saying that if you take something and use it, for art's sake, have some fucking respect for it. This just seems hypocritical to me and I have to cut ties on this one today. Not sure how to handle yet. He's not for me.

Today was the best day I've had in like 5 years.

And NO I didn't get laid! ;) Ok, so maybe it wasn't THE best day, but close.

Today I spent a near obscene amount of money on stuff - I ordered new glasses and sunglasses and bought some new clothes, which were desperately needed. Hung out with my mom, got a call from my dad with really good news - his house sold! For the full price! So he's no longer freaked out about everything.

He also told me that he's going to sell his car and that he wants to use the money from his car and have me sell my car (aka the Grandmamobile) and buy a good car! Which I think is the nicest thing ever, because I really miss my Nissan (but I don't miss the payment). I totally didn't expect that at all.

Tonight I went to the Viper Room - dancing - some great tunes (thanks Jason, you rock!!) and had a couple of drinks (was the DD as per usual - one of these nights I'm going to say fuck it and take a cab and just get shitty at a club - I've fucking earned it). Met a few friends there, including a very sweet man - the tattoo apprentice guy, Robert, I can't remember if I mentioned him before. He kissed my hand when I left, I eat shit like that up. I also eat up the type of compliments he was giving me - I'm such a girl. It is always nice to know that you are attractive to the opposite sex though. And he actually dances. Big points.

He's 37, so a lot of that young boy angst is gone, which I love. Always love the older ones. Then when Brie and I left the coolest thing every happened - it started POURING rain, and I got absolutely soaked - which I just loved! Sounds bizarre, but something about getting soaked is just so sensual. it felt SO GOOD after being hot in the club too... Some day I plan on having hot passionate wet sex in a rainstorm... I have this big goofy grin on my face and am just happy as I can remember being. :) Everything just fell into place today... BTW, the Taco Bell on Burnside and 21st by Brie's apartment makes the best 7 layer burrito ever.