From Dead to Alive in 2005

Oh, the many things one can find when rummaging through stuff.  And how strange the things that can set off such things.  There’s a lot of backstory for something so simple (when isn’t there with me, I mean really…).  For Christmas I was gifted two sets of shelves for DVDs and CDs, which I so desperately needed and wanted.  Tonight, I was going through the old CD book and taking all the liner notes out of it and putting them back into the CD cases (no small feat, either).  In the process, I realized I was missing upwards of ten CD cases (and thus, CDs, because the CDs in the book were all copies I’d made to listen to…that’s a story for another time).  Among them were such personal classics as Cracked Rear View and Fairweather Johnson by Hootie and the Blowfish, Jagged Little Pill by Alanis Morrisette, No Cure for Cancer by Denis Leary, Tragic Kingdom by No Doubt, and all my George Carlin CDs.  This is no small thing, obviously.  So I start tearing this place apart looking for any of them, knowing they aren’t here.  There’s only two places they could’ve been, and those took all of ten minutes to check.  But that didn’t stop me from continuing to look around for the better part of an hour, checking some places twice.  No dice.  This means the CDs are likely somewhere amongst the muck of my stuff still in my dad’s basement.  Or they’re gone, which would be completely unthinkable.  To lose such things forever (or at least until I re-buy them)?  Deplorable of me.  But anyway…the real reason I even started with this story. 

During my search, I came across a small, white envelope…the size of a greeting card (which is what it housed originally, duh).  I knew it for what it was immediately.  It contained the pictures documenting most of my history with females, and some pictures of family.  The first two pictures were of me with long hair from back in high school.  I know admit I looked bad with long hair.  There.  I said it.  People have tried to get me to admit it for years, but I never would.  Now I do.  Bad.  Anywho.  The next two pictures were of myself, C.J., mom, and Tater.  Those are pretty priceless to me now, what with Tater’s death and all.  Those were from a point a few years ago when I was trying to grow my hair back out.  Another bad look, because I hadn’t shaved in a few months at that point either.  The next picture was of myself with Shannon McDaniel in the breakroom at Fred’s back in high school.  I have my arm around her with a goofy smile on my face and my hair in my eyes (this was in the midst of trying to grow it way long).  Shannon is grinning from ear to ear, obviously very happy to be in this position.  ::sighs::  What a fool I was.  Moving on.  The next two are from high school graduation.  The first is of Will and I, standing there, trying to look like this isn’t important, but my half smile lets you know it was, as does the smirk on his face.  The other is of me standing with Natalie Stewart with my arm around her.  She’s looking up at me (she was about 5-5 to my 5-11) saying something wihle laughing.  I’m just grinning like an idiot, happy to get a picture with her.  The next two pictures are of Pygmyrs.  Just kinda of her standing around.  Both of ’em.  The next one is of Will and I again, this time from the day of Junior Prom (he went, I didn’t).  We’re doing the HBK and Diesel pose, where Will is kneeling down flexing his biceps and I’m standing above him with my right fist raised in the air.  We’re so goofy.  The next two pictures are of Rebecca painting her room.  Well, one of ’em is of her painting, the other is of her trying to eat paint.  Dork.  Makes me wonder what she’s up to these days…  The final picture is, of course, of Mo and I from after my college graduation.  Until tonight, there was never a time I could look upon that picture without flinching or hurting or feeling that sting in the pit of my stomach.  Of course, this is the first time I’ve even looked at any of these pictures in about eight months, so obviously much has changed in that time.  Which brings me to the end of the year…

But first…

Now Playing in Dave’s Mental Jukebox:  "Playing Your Song" by Hole, "Pass Me By" by ICP, and "Dirthouse" by Static-X

Now then…

2005 began for me in hell.  I was working my everlovin’ ass off at Dell, to no avail.  Putting in in excess of 60 hours a week for the better part of two months straight.  January was the last chance I had to get hired on full time, which obviously didn’t happen.  Thank God.  By the time February was over, I was 25 and jobless again.  I stayed that way until April, but in the meantime, I had to deal with the constant berating of my stepmom.  It got to the point where I would go out and do absolutely nothing just so I could stay away from her while my dad was at work.  Of course, I couldn’t avoid her forever, and the continued brow-beatings made me hate life.  Literally just hate life.  I was worthless because I didn’t have a job, didn’t have enough friends, was still living at home, and didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.  That’s what she told me.  And when I made changes to what I was doing (or not doing), it was never enough.  There was always something else wrong.  At this point, my life was a complete and utter disaster of a wreck.  Because the worst part was that she was right about most of it.  I won’t say all of it because I still don’t believe I need tons of friends to be happy, and I don’t believe my room looked like that of a twelve year old.  In April, I took a job at the first place to call me back with an offer, and that was Sears.  Getting into the workforce again was good for me, even if it was horribly underpaying (was?  I mean is).  At the end of April, everything was thrown into upheaval.  Will was moving away to get a new start on his life.  The night he left, he had Mo with him, thus sending me even lower (once I started thinking what might be).  It was in this state that I was forced to move out of my dad’s house, and ended up here in my apartment.  While I hated the situation at the time, it was the best thing for me, and I see that now, hindsight always being perfect.  It took me some time to get to a point where life was even worth trying at again.  For a few months, I just kind of floated along…not minding anyone else, and no one minding me.  Quite literally from July until November I just didn’t care about much of anything.  My whole life felt temporary.  Everything about it, I mean.  The job, the apartment…everything.  It seems odd to say that, considering it’s actually true, I guess, but at that point it seemed like a bad thing.  Now it’s just fact.  But when I made the discovery that Mo and Will were together, as in together-together, well, that made me feel again.  I hadn’t really felt anything in some time.  And that event jarred me back into a sense of emotio

n of any form.  At first, I was filled with rage and hatred, but over a few days, I grew to be accepting of it.  Nothing I could do about it.  Nothing to do with me, really.  That  was the realization that changed everything.  I had been so angry because it was, "How could they do this to me?!"  But them being together had absolutely nothing to do with me.  So simple, yet so profound to one so self-centered as I.  And the subsequent conversation with Mo seemed to close that chapter of my life that had been haunting me for the better part of three years.  The fog had lifted, and life was filled with light again.  There was a chance for hope.  Maybe I can pull myself together afterall.

So that’s my goal for 2006:  Pull my life back together.  It sounds so simple, but it’s so complicated, that I don’t even know if I could explain it in any amount of space.  It’s just something that takes baby steps to do.  No more drifting through life uncaring.  It’s time to do as Osaka says in Azumanga Daioh, "Get it together….get it together…get it together…GET IT TOGETHER!"

Indeed, Osaka.  In-deed.

Sayonara.