You all remember when I finally met Trent Reznor, right? I was a nervous wreck beforehand, freaking out, crying, anxiety, anal leakage. I was a mess... right up until the actual moment when it seemed like the easiest and most natural thing in the world. I built him up in my head to be this superior being but he was easy. He healed my soul with a hug and was kind and loving and patient.
Now, I also adore Amanda Palmer. Let's think of her as my female Trent, in a way. The difference is, she is not bigger than life to me the way he is. I have seen her (alone and with The Dresden Dolls) only three times. I can think of her, meeting her and being around her with zero anxiety.
BUT!
The opposite is true when it actually happens. The moment I see her in person I shake. I feel sick. I get nervous. It's like I know that I am just not cool enough to be near her in any way. How DARE a dork like me love her so much. Look at her! She's incredible. She doesn't have an ounce of fear about anything.
The first time I saw her, she opened up for NIN with The Dresden Dolls. After the show, her and Brian were sitting at a table by the door ready to sign for anyone in the world. I was on my way out, made eye contact with her, felt weak in my knees and didn't stop to say hello.
The second time was two years ago I suppose. Another Dresden Dolls show. They were signing afterwards. I met Brian, spoke to him just fine and got a picture with him. And then there was Amanda, inches from my face, leaning down so she could talk to me, oozing sweetness and coolness... and I froze. Her eyes are intimidating. I wanted to kiss her in that moment. She was RIGHT THERE. But I didn't ask. I didn't even say much of anything. She looked at me kindly, smiled, signed, and I left forever regretting that moment.
I don't know what it is about her that scares me so much. She is possibly the sweetest, kindest human in the world. She takes her time and loves her fans. Hugs, kisses, interaction galore and I am ridiculously intimidated by her. I shouldn't be! But I am.
So this new show, after much internal drama about whether to go or not (unrelated to anything here), was upon me. The "no kiss" regret stayed with me this whole time and I wanted to be able to have the ability to ask her this time but I know how I am and didn't make it a serious goal. The chances were high of me chickening out.
Just her presence on the stage frightened me a little. What is that??? It's really annoying because I know she's just a person like all other people and I met Trent Fucking Reznor and she is way more accessible than him any day. She's friendlier even!
The show starts (I was rail/left) and she's beautiful and glorious and THERE. My mother was my date and she was enjoying it. During Ask Amanda there was a spontaneous bidding war to make out with Amanda to which I thought "oh shit", figuring if she's auctioning kisses, no way she'll kiss me for free just because I asked.
When the show was over I was waiting for my mother to return with my book for Amanda to sign. Not paying attention to where I was, Amanda came out behind me, caught my attention and said "hey" to which my insides shriveled up and I squeak out a "hi". She kept walking, making her way through the crowd to have her $300 kiss that was auctioned off.
I watched her sign, be friendly and loving with every single person in front of her. She took her time with everyone, allowed them to say all they wanted to say to her, signed whatever they wanted. That would calm a normal person down but I am not normal. It made me more nervous. A lovely man allowed me to cut in front of him. At that moment, I wished he hadn't because I wasn't ready. I had nothing in my head to say to her. I was blank. She leaned over, she leaned down EXACTLY as she had the last time I saw her. Inches away AGAIN. And then I thought... "fuck it".
I said, "I have to tell you. You are my one regret."
Friendly, sweet "Oh? Why's that?"
"It's just... (intimidating eyes looking back at me)... Last time I met you I didn't ask you for a kiss."
(nervous, nervous, nervous me)
"So.... Is that your way of asking for one now?"
(shaking, nervous, nervous me)
".... Trying to"
"Well, sure"
She leaned over as much as she possibly could, held my face and kissed me. Like Trent's hug, a longer kiss than I expected. She stroked my hair and told me I was beautiful, which would have made me cry if I wasn't so nervous. She kissed me again on my forehead. I told her I adore her, thanked her and ended it with a "see ya later" just after she complimented my necklace.
I believe I giggled and squealed and acted like an ass on the way out the door but big deal! My big regret, the ONE in my whole life no longer applied. There was freedom in that. You should try it sometime.
Regrets no more but I do wish I had the physical ability to talk to her more and tell her how special THIS show was, having just found out a friend of mine killed herself. However, if I did that I may have definitely cried and that would've been bad.
Trent Reznor hugged me.
Amanda Palmer kissed me.
... Next was Michael Jackson but he died. Jerk.
I discovered just today that you died. That you killed yourself. That my worst fear, that I never spoke outloud, happened.
You disappeared. You just... were gone and I noticed. And I looked. And emailed. And waited. And searched. Googled. Searched. Emailed strangers. For what? Seven years? Every few days, weeks, months. You were never forgotten by me.
I held out hope and imagined that you just got married and so your last name changed and that would be the reason my searching failed.
Your phone numbers were gone. All of them. Your screen names were deleted. I started to doubt myself and you. That, maybe you never were who you said you were and had to flee the country and re-change your name.
I kind of wish I still had the illusions.
In reality, you killed yourself in June 2002. Exactly when I noticed your absence. I was looking for someone who is gone.
I don't know what happened or why. I have no idea why you didn't come to me... Or did you and I didn't pay attention? Is it my fault? Could I have prevented it? Seven YEARS ago, Woobie! And I'm just learning about it now!?!
I know that you would tell me it wasn't my fault, and realistically I know that's true. But I can't help but wonder if I could have done something.
Look at all you've missed. Obama, iPods, iPhones, firefox, hi-speed cable Internet, Snakes on a Plane, Britney going insane, Paris Hilton, the ending of Harry Potter! Oprah got skinny. Oprah got fat. There was a Willy Wonka remake. I threw out my vinyl. TJ got married. And divorced. My dad died.
I moved... And worried you wouldn't be able to find me. So I kept my AOL account and name. Just in case. Your phone numbers no longer worked but I kept them. Just in case.
You died seven YEARS ago but I found out just yesterday and my ass is mourning. I was the dark cloud. You were the sunshine. Why did you kill yourself and I didn't? What was different? What happened that you couldn't tough it out with me?
I remembered your blog. I read every entry looking for an answer. Word for word, looking for some kind of cryptic message between the lines. You asked what we think happens when we die. You talked about a man you loved. You wrote about your best friend. You told me you love me.
But there were no answers to why.
I'm sorry, Woobie. I'm sorry for not having my own shit together. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't lean on me. I'm sorry I can't remember our last conversation. I'm sorry you're gone. I'm sorry it took me seven years to finally discover it. I'm sorry.
And thank you, Woobie. Thank you for existing. Thank you for caring. Thank you for listening. Thank you for laughing. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for loving me.
If you don't mind, I would like to continue my little images of you married with children. They're much more pleasent. I suspect that's why the Universe made the truth so difficult to uncover... to allow me to keep you happy and safe. I don't believe in God, heaven or hell but I do believe the world works exactly the way we need. I wish you knew that.
I don't even know how to end this because there is so much I can say besides just that I loved you and you were special to me. And that it's so weird to feel this sad about something that happened so long ago. But...
I love you, Woobie and you were so VERY special to me. I wish you were here.
- Me
(this was written over a two day period which is why babbling and time shifts may occur. left unedited.)
After way too much time, I am pleased to announce that Frozen Barbie is now on Twitter! There are many others with similar names on Twitter but this is the OFFICIAL Frozen Barbie page:
As I was browsing around I noticed there are also a handful of character Twitters happening. If any of you had happened to watch True Blood you are probably aware that they also had character Twitters which were SO fun to follow. We are missing a LOT of Dexter characters so far. I think it would be very, very cool if some others snatched up the names and played along.
The following are the Twitters I have found and I will be calling them the "Official" Character Twitters since they all appear to be the originals:
Dexter Morgan
Rita Bennett
Debra Morgan
Vince Masuka
James Doakes
Lila Tourney
We are in need of Laguerta, Lundy, Quinn, Anton, Angel, The Trinity Killer and a TON of others.
If any of you know of others or decide to make your own, please post here or @reply THE Frozen Barbie.
Let's make this fun!!
Seeing my last NIN show for the "foreseeable future" was a bittersweet, exciting, hurtful, sad and joyous experience. I had already accepted the fact that I already saw my last show in June, where I met Trent finally. Tickets for the NYC dates were impossible for me to grab no matter how many different times I tried. I figured the Universe wanted my last time to have been when I met him. The Universe had other plans.
Around Tuesday or so of last week Bean, Puff and I were discussing my birthday which is coming soon. I will be the ripe old age of 31 and just because I'm old doesn't mean that my mother has stopped planning surprises. I don't always like surprises on my birthday. Last year, because I turned 30, I made the plans. I saw NIN the day before and ate grilled cheese sandwiches the day of with my teenagers.
We discussed last year and I said how I didn't really want to do anything big. "But if she wants to do something than she can get me motherfucking tickets to one of the motherfucking NIN shows", said just off the top of my head knowing full well how impossible the tickets have been to get.
On Sunday there was a mysterious little box that had, apparently, been sitting on the table most of the day. Bean is the one who noticed it. With her help, the box was opened and up popped a note that said "YOU ARE GOING". Tears of joy, of course, happened. Then disbelief. Then... Nervousness.
My mother got the tickets from eBay which is a huge no-no in my book. Especially with these, which were ticket-less tickets and scammers could run wild. In the aftermath, all went well and I really had no reason to worry. Apparently, I am not the only one who is able to handle ticket grabbing.
The drive was long. The traffic in the tunnel sucked but there was hardly anything that could spoil the happy. During the ride I thought about each show, all 11 of them and just how prepared I was that I already saw my last show in June. This show was a new monster. The unexpected last goodbye. One last roll in the hay with a lover who is leaving me. This one was to be my closure.
We arrived and met up with Mr. eBay Seller Dude. I was to have this pretty, pretty princess silver sparkly star with me so he'd know who we were. We had no problem getting in and once inside I couldn't give two shits where the handicapped area was, I was just so happy to be there. We learned my area was directly on the left side of the stage on the safe side of the barricade. My view was ridiculously awesome. I was right at the front where the surfers would stumble out from and had a clear view of Mr. Reznor in all his muscular glory.
While I was taking in my view, Vic was going to grab a drink and a shirt for me. It was then that my fellow Twitter/Blog friend, Al, got my attention. I said to him earlier that if he sees me to come say hello but didn't really expect much. In my experience, I usually have to sit in nosebleeds and all of the fun people are miles away on the floor. But there he was and I was down there with him, just in the safe zone.
I have to say, it really made my night that he was right there. My whole (NIN) life none of my friends have been into this band. Vic tolerates it because he loves me but he couldn't give a shit about them. With Al there it was like I had an ally. Sure, a big crowd of NIN fans but... usually they all make me feel like an outcast. They aren't really the friendliest group of people and here's me, weird awkward little thing with an old man who talks a little too much. Al doesn't have that snooty air about him. And his sister is just awesome. It was nice to be by them but I'd have to leave them in order to see because of my smallness.
The details of the show and the setlist (**) is fairly unimportant to me. When Trent came out I had the reaction I always do... awe. He sang and my eyes welled up, knowing that this IS it. As the show continued, I suddenly realized that I met that man. He put his arms around me and healed my soul. The rest of the show then became something else.
He was leaving. He is giving this up. My attention went to the crowd, which I am part of, and felt their love for him. I noticed Mariqueen right above his head on the balcony, watching, taking photos, existing, waiting for her man to get done working. When you really look, you see just what he is giving up. It couldn't have been a spur of the moment decision. I hope people realize that.
During the quiet songs random people would shout "Thank You, Trent". Yelling during those moments would usually annoy me but I teared up every single time. I felt it with them. Thankful. For him. For this. All of it. The past 16 years of my life... I was thankful and they just happened to say it.
His final song was Hurt. A song which exists in every ounce of who I am. Every show that he has played it, I have sobbed through it. I was right there. Right with him. His voice broke. My tears came. I was 15 again, seeing my first show and this was the song he closed with. A fitting ending for me. More shouts of "Thank You" and more tears. A wave goodbye and it was over.
I turned and saw Al. This was the other side, the after. What I really wanted was a blankie and to curl up and cry on the floor right there. Instead, I did my best to compose myself so I don't look like a complete asshole in front of someone I really only just met. It's bad enough I had a pretty, pretty princess wand with me. Add sobbing like a douchebag and he'd surely never speak to me again.
Al and his sister both went up to Leo and got two of Justin's picks. I waited for them so I could say goodbye. Al's sister handed me her's and Al said "I have one and you have one!" and I thought, but didn't say, "Awww! Best Friends ForEVER!!" I thanked his sister. She didn't have to. I adore kindness.
We filed out, slowly, and I don't remember much talking around me besides Vic. Perhaps I was too in my head to notice. Once out, reality came back in the form of three bitchy females waiting for us. Apparently, they did not have fun in the city.
My post-show depression seemed to be sever but is now on hold because I have contracted the NINcooties. Everyone I know who was at the show is now ill in some way. Good times.
** Side notes:
• Because of my location I kept moving for Mr. Rob Sheridan so he could pass and not trip on me.
• I witnessed Mr. Rob Sheridan get a swift kick to the back of the head by some ignorant fuck going over the rail who didn't even try to apologize.
• There was a very weird little bald man around me. Very, very weird. I ignored him.
• I was hug attacked by a girl I know from the Philly and HOB shows after she body surfed.
• I found out after that one of my Philly heros was there and caught Trent's tambourine. I wish I got to see him and am thrilled that he was the one who caught it.
My Dad still has some slight problems with his memory after his brain surgery years ago. He will on occasion mix up words. It is usually quite subtle and if you aren't paying attention you might not even notice. However, he recently called my Brother to tell him that our Aunt had an accident in her wheelchair. Somehow it locked up on her and she got thrown out and broke a lot of bones. She's been in a wheelchair for many years so you can imagine what my brother was thinking when my Dad told him "Aunt Barbara is in the hospital, she got thrown off a horse." Chris was all, "What the HELL was she doing on a horse?" My Stepmom in the background screaming "A wheelchair Mark, a wheelchair." the whole time.
I myself have learned to pay close attention to what he's telling me. However, I chose to get directions to my brother's wedding from him a few weeks ago and that resulted in me going to the wrong town entirely.
I have pretty much completely lost whatever blogging voice I used to have and I do blame Twitter for that. Years ago it all came so easily, this flow of words and the ability to form paragraphs full of thoughts. Now when I write something, anything, it reads like a Twitter post to me. Every single sentence can be broken down into a 140 blip and Twittered accordingly. My voice is gone and in it's place is 3,251 (my) family friendly thoughts, all under 140 characters, as they happen. That secret place I used to have is gone completely and, sometimes, I miss it.
My Twitter, this blog, Flickr, Facebook, Myspace, anywhere that I currently exist online can be visited by anyone who knows me in real life and there is no fear that they will see something I don't want them to. Clients can click on anything and, unless they mind my foul mouth, all is good. Nothing is marked private. Nothing is hidden. There are no secret tunnels. There is nothing that is just for me.A blog used to be a place to vent the bullshit, to release because I've always been unable to release. The sadness, the pain, anger, frustration, hurt and fears of it all. I'd talk about just being me and how difficult it really is because no one in my life understood. Perhaps it was my age. I really don't know. Maybe I felt like I needed to be heard even if I never allowed people in my real life to see it.
Then something pretty profound happened: I had my heart broken.
I allowed a human into my life. I allowed him to see all of me, all at once. He knew all of the things I kept hidden. I trusted. Everything I ever was afraid of, I allowed with him. I loved him deeply, something I never even thought was possible for me to do. I believed him. And then he left.
The loss of, not him, but of the part of me that I gave to him was incredible. Who am I now that he is gone and took that with him? I shut up on all public forums because he had access to them. There was no private flow. I had no place to vent. I just had me and after a couple of months of just me I slowly came to realize that I do still exist.
I drowned myself in Eckhart Tolle, Hugnation, Andrew W.K., Amanda Palmer, Harry Potter, Nintendo -- all things which only brought me joy. When I became hospitalized I forced myself to be as positive as I possibly could be even though I was terrified. My beloved cat died two days before my birthday and though it was hard (still is) I crafted these tools in the real world that help me deal better. Are they "healthy"? Doubtful, but they work and that is what is important to me.
During the process I opened up my web world. Everything became public. I deleted and closed up all secret tunnels. People could ask my URL and I was able to give it. I vowed to myself to always, always remain who I always was but just stop being afraid of it. Because look! I lived just fine through that and I'm god damned proud of it. If there's a shitty day, I'll report it in 140 blips and just like life, it will pass. It will roll off the page with no archive, nearly impossible to find a week from now.
Twitter is becoming my saving grace these days as I am currently a shut in, not by choice, and a flow is needed. Minor frustration, a 140 vent and it scrolls on by. Oftentimes, I'll look back at the end of the day to see how it had went and most of the time forget that I was even frustrated at all. But there it was, frustration now lost into the abyss of nothing. It's therapeutic really. Well, for me it is.
Bean is also now on Twitter because she saw how much fun I was having. We follow one another, Twitter at each other while being in the same room, laugh and share things with each other through it. Her's consist of everything she is. One liners, movie and song quotes, inside jokes, hilarity, geekiness and fun. Many of her friends are now joining in because they see how humorous it all can be, this instant stream of someone's thoughts. Creativity comes with the 140 limit. Some teenagers understand and embrace this. Others use it as a new IM system. Some use it the same way I used to use my blog and would be horrified if their parents were to see the things they write. Few dwell on it, using it simply for attention and become miffed when they see others having fun without them.
Just like life.
I wish some people knew that it will all pass which is mostly why I’m actually typing up a blog which will remain, be archived and not lost into nothing. The Twitter world is exactly like the real world. There will be gossip, troublemakers, fun, laughter and trends. People will offend you, attack and act like assholes. You have no control over the others unless you block or hide from them… just like in life.
You can, however, control what you put out there into this Twitter world. What are your intentions? What is your goal? Who are you in this world? Maybe I’m lucky but I have had very few hateful people in my world, Twitter or otherwise. Humans I associate with are all kind. If someone is hateful, I simply ignore them. I do not block, censor or hide myself. I will unfollow, per my own morals, and just not speak of it.
The only instance that I had to make an announcement and block was when Michael Jackson died. I am well aware of how regular people viewed him but I have a fierce love and loyalty to him. I always have. Just like in my real life, I was protecting myself from negativity. I did not want to hear cruel jokes or happen upon a photo of his autopsy on accident. I announced, went through every individual that follows me and blocked accordingly. I did not want to see any negative @replies and so that is why I did it that way. Few people who I follow myself were mean. 98% remained to be the kind humans I thought they were. Then it passed by.
Just like life.
There is a lot of drama that happens in this community I am part of. I get just as frustrated as the others at times but I don’t involve myself for the most part. However, what does make my blood flow are the ungrateful humans: Those who have no idea how good the world really is and bitch and moan simply because they have nothing better to do, those who spew their negativity all over something meant to be so, so positive. Still, I do not name names. I say my peace and let them take from it what they will. Cursing or not, I also say it all with good intentions and never to be purposely hurtful. I fully believe intention is everything. If you are being hurtful on purpose it will come back to you. The same rings true if your intentions are good. You get what you give in this world. Real or otherwise.
I was able to finally meet Trent Reznor. The worlds finally aligned and I had built up enough good karma over my 30 years on earth and I won backstage passes through Twitter long before he was taking donations for #Eric. To even further my good karma and secure my position in meeting him, I also made a $300 donation to #Eric long before Trent announced Twitter winners would no longer have access to him. I donated just hours before all slots were taken, which is pretty awesome. And when I met him and he gave me that amazing love-filled hug I waited 15 years for, I knew it wouldn’t have been possible if I didn’t have that one profound event.
If my heart was never broken, I would have continued to live in his shadow. I would have blindly moved to Japan and hated my life there in a culture which is absurd to me. I would have grown to hate him for making me live there but would have become too dependent to ever leave him. I would have never learned to not be afraid of my head because, with him, I didn’t exist enough to even have my own thoughts. Sometimes I wish I knew then that all that pain was needed. It was a terribly dark hole. Still, the best thing he ever did was leave me.
I sort of wish he knew that I’m thankful for the hurt he caused. It gave me strength. Not in a negative way either. I didn’t close myself off. Instead, I became open. I am ridiculously open and unafraid. When you see me now, you see me completely. It used to feel like I was an opened wound, gutted for the world to view. Now it feels good, like a relief to finally just exist just as I am with no wall. See, I was already in that place where I thought I disappeared so now there’s nothing to lose. There’s no fear. There’s just me.
This entire ramble is also a reminder to myself because sometimes I forget. There are terrible days that happen and my frustration is high, my worry is beyond anything reasonable and leaping off a building seems like the best idea in the world. Those days, I sit and remind myself of all of the above because all of the above is what helps me to keep breathing.
And so I return to my little 140 world, spewing randomness because it eases my mind, even just a little. I will say that this long, never-to-be-read ramble felt quite good. I forgot that this can also be helpful, full thoughts instead of cryptic 140 lines.
You can follow me: @meltinghalo
The title of this post is important because, not only is it a reoccuring theme, but without my glasses I can pretty much only see blobby figures and guess at who's who.
For breakfast I had two Immodiums. My stomach turned the entire time and the last thing I wanted was to have explosive diarrhea in front of Trent. I brought an extra blister pack of them with me just in case as well.
In fact, I remembered everything I was supposed to except my glasses. Know why? I didn't put them on my list. I figured I would easily remember needing the ability to SEE but I didn't. I didn't remember them until we were there and I was waiting out amongst the crowd and wondered "Why is everyone so blurry? ... ... ... Fuuuuuuck!"
Apparently Jeff was there, who was one of the heros at the Philly show. I couldn't see him not only because I had no eyes but also because I'm so fucking small and couldn't see over anyone. Vic said he blew me a kiss. So Jeff... *kissies back* I'm just too small.
I'm sure I looked like a tool outside, shivering with my hot pink fuzzy muppet-looking blanket and squinting at everyone. But I don't care. I was freezing. I also was still trying to not shit my pants.
The wait outside was suprisingly calming. Nothing was happening. It was cold. Hundreds of others were all in the same boat. It helped my nerves.
It seemed to take forever to get inside the warm but let me just say... Wasn't the woman checking everyone in and organizing simply the best?? I love her! Kudos to you, organizer lady whose name I didn't get.
Once inside panic hit and I probably said "oh my god" 45 times. I bitched about not being able to see some more. Then I decided it's probably for the best that I can't clearly see him so I don't freak out. I felt as if I'll vomit at any moment and my heart was leaping.
One group went before us and when it was our turn I said to Vic "I can't do this". He told me how I'll be fine. We enter the room and there's a maroon/red curtain and I know he's just beyond it. I breath. I take a moment. It doesn't help.
We turn the corner and there he is at this black table. Relaxed. I say to Vic again how I can't do this. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says "Yes you can. Come on." As we're moving he's encouraging me because I keep hesitating. Lots of "You're okay. You're doing just fine. You're alright."
Robin was first and I apologized to him because I had nothing for him to sign. He was amazingly kind, grabbed my hand and said it's nice to meet me. Small talk happened that I don't entirely remember. I know I told him and Justin that this was my 10th show.
Let me quickly interrupt myself and say how awesome Justin and Robin both are. I was a complete mess and the two of them with their calming energy and smiles and laughs helped greatly. I mean GREATLY. Had Trent been first, I don't know that I would have been able to speak.
Trent had finished speaking with the person before me and looked at me. I breathed and said "Hi Trent" calmly, without a studder or high squeal. Vic handed him my copy of TDS that I had since I'm 15. I asked him "Is it possible for you to hug me?"
I chose those words carefully. For HIM to hug ME. The reason is, because of my SMA I do not have the ability to lift my arms to hug him back. It's a fairly obvious thing once you meet me but I still wanted him to be aware, even if in a roundabout way, that this would be a physically one sided hug on his part but not without the connection that only hugs have.
He replied "Absolutely (or sure, or no problem, something). I'll just come around."
He proceeded to sign my CD, carefully, in no hurry. Vic leaned over to him and said "She doesn't want me to tell you this but your music... " and I didn't quite hear what else he said because I was "nonononono"ing too much. Trent smiled, along with Justin, and I said "That just sounds dorky. *smile* No. I just wanted to thank you for all you've done."
He slid my CD towards Vic and got up and walked around the table to me. This blobby figure (I forgot my glasses!!) headed right towards me and he became clearer and clearer. I suspect I probably just had a silly smile. I don't really know.
He opened his arms wide, bent down and swallowed my small frame in his arms. There was no more me because I was inside him and his puffy jacket. He squeezed me tightly, tighter than I expected and I let out a little squeek/sigh/happy sound of sorts. I don't know what it was exactly but it wasn't an embarrassing noise, thankfully.
He held on to me much longer than the average hug. This was a good 5 seconds of connection, all on his part since he did the physical labor of the hug. Vic tried to snap a photo of it but didn't capture the full-on hug, just the lean-in.
I breathed it in. My head was right in that moment and not worrying about a single thing. The feeling of his squeeze, being ingulfed by him, his breathing, the connection, the love. It was absolutely the best hug of my entire life.
He let go and I thanked him again. I think he thanked me as well but I can't remember. I looked straight and there was Vic and I went right over to him (forgetting about Ilan). Vic wrapped me in his arms and I started to shake. Tears came but never flowed down. Vic teared up, having just witnessed my greatest moment.
We watched him sign and shake hands with the rest of the group. There were no hugs during it. I was the only one. It was then that I realized I forgot about Ilan and felt terrible for it. They really should keep Trent on the end so that doesn't happen to the poor kid again.
It was the most relaxed, chill room. People spoke softly when they were done and took photos respectfully from the side while he signed.
When he finished I hear my name. I was behind the crowd at this point. People parted and I saw Brett, who remembered me from Philly. I got a photo with him. Apparently I was beckoned because I'm to be in the middle of the group photo. Trent stands, walks on front of me, we smile and he stands to my right. I hear his low voice speaking to others around him. I wasn't looking at him at all. I was looking towards Brett who had the camera. Suddenly this soft, low monotone voice hovered right by my ear says "Can I put my hand on your shoulder?" I think Duh, yeah but I say "Yeah, sure."
With his hand on my shoulder I try not to shake. I get all super fucking Eckhart and live this moment just as I did his hug. I smile for the camera but all of my focus is on his hand. His hand on me. His finger twitched. There was no squeezing. I just smiled like a douchebag (and I look EVIL from the red eye that won't go away!).
Photo taken and people are to file out. A lot are stopping to hug him and I can see none are as long as mine. I'm sure they all have the same connection though. As he hugs, he looks at me over someone's shoulder. I say "Thank you, Trent" and a nod and smirk from him. And out I went, thanking Brett and Leo on the way.
Soundcheck was just as everyone says soundcheck goes. They only did two songs because "there was too much hugging and not enough soundchecking". I was front and center because of the kindness of a redheaded woman in a corset.
After, we filed out and I told coordinater lady what a fantastic job she has done. She really was amazing with everyone.
I wait in the lobby while Vic goes over to will call to pick up the free twitter tickets I won. I anxiously wait for Bean, Dee and Gregg to arrive because they have my glasses. When they arrive, I experience the glory of being able to see again. Hugs all around. The story above is relived. The teenager complains about food, thus removing me from my moment.
I will not relive the show. Plenty of others can do that for me.
This morning, I admit, my back is a little sore. Whether it was from his squeeze or not, I do not know. It's a pain I'm happily taking though.
I said to Vic, "I can die now."
As far as I can see, all of my goals have been reached. It's sad, sure, but also SO satisfying to know that I could die tomorrow and everything has been accomplished. As of now, there is no unfinished business.
In this moment there's complete peace.
I don't often look in the mirror. I mean, I see myself but I don't really look.
As I was preparing to apply the ritual eyeliner for the event today, I stopped and looked.
Still looking young for my age but I have acne scars, minor bumps across my cheeks that probably only bother me, redness from scrubbing and crying. My age shows most in the minor puffiness and darkness under my eyes from all the sleepless nights and tears. My stress is visable in the "coin slot" present between my eyebrows. My happiness is clear in the parenthesis I now get when I smile.
Then I noticed, the one nonchanging thing on all humans... eyes. The flesh may wrinkle and sag around them but the eyes remain the same. Still brown. Still able to see with the aid of glasses. My body may be slowly eating itself but I still see through the same eyes that I always have.
The things these old eyes have seen and been through is imense.
Today a man who has meant everything to me will see my eyes and have no idea the pain behind them or the amount in which he has helped me through it. I have also faced the fact that tears may come from the sheer awesome of being able see him face to face, just like I always wanted. This was my "before I die" wish.
This feels like some kind of end of something. My eyes do not yet see the beginning of something else but I know it's there somewhere. The universe always delivers.
Tomorrow is when it finally happens. On my twitter I have been listing a few of my various fears from pooping my pants to crying in his presence. But there's one fear that tops them all.
What if, after this, I don't have anything else to look forward to?
I don't live and breath easily. Though I can remain one of those "in the moment" types of people it's still a struggle without having some kind of goal to exist for. The goal of meeting him has been one of my major drives for half of my life. His music has sung me through it and helped me keep focus.
Tomorrow the goal will be met with many nerves and tears. Tomorrow is also my tenth and final show. Though my family will be there with me, none of them truly understand how profound this will be for me. I am not just meeting a man who sang me through my life... I am facing the end of this thing that has kept me semi-stable all these years.
Yes, yes... what about Bean? I breathe for Bean. For her sanity. To keep her semi-stable. It's all for her, none of it is for me.
I rarely have good events that happen just for me. Most of my life has been seeing and making others happy. And I notice that when something for me finally does happen, the people around me resist it. I can probably count on one hand the times and people who REALLY wanted goodness for me in those moments.
Even with tomorrow. I'm a wreck about it. Nervous beyond words. I'm having panic attacks left and right all week long. I can barely hold onto myself. Do they see the nerves and anxiety? No. One is concerned with how this effects his work schedule. One called me a jerk for no reason whatsoever. And the other thinks I'm a nagging pain in the ass because stuff (not having to do with me) has to be done.
I am rarely a selfish person. I usually always look to someone else, see what's best for them and then go in that direction. My life is never about what I want, it's about making things easier for other people. When you rely on other people you tend to become agreeable just because it's easier. It's easy for people to take advantage of that, become unappreciative and get angry when I actually finally want to do something for me. That can hurt. Greatly. This show, meeting him, is something just for me. That fact displeases some.
I am aware that my nerves can make me crazy. I've been doing my very best. It isn't like I have cabinets full of drugs to help me through this. This is all on me. Keep steady. Breathe. Talk, don't yell. Plan. List. Twitter. Distract. Cry. Listen. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. It's hard, very hard, to remain normal when all you EVER wanted is about to happen.
There is much to do and blogging has become painfully difficult for me now. Notice how nearly everything can be chopped into 140 bits? That is the curse of Twitter.
My point of this was:
What if there's nothing left to look forward to? That is my worst fear.
In all my years blogging I never really get that personal... but this mother's day I thought I'd share something with you.
I always have great difficulty picking out a Mother's Day card, because none of them ever apply to the relationship I have with my own. "Thanks for being so wonderful." "Thanks for always being there." "Thanks for not being a judgmental bitch." Well.. you get the idea. I don't speak to my mother anymore. My choice. Tried my best to make our relationship work but found it to be impossible. I am still cordial to her when I see her, but I don't go out of my way to make that happen. Nevertheless, it is Mother's Day so I did get a card and a gift.
I wanted to make my own card. Something along the lines of "Hey, remember when I was 7 and you thought it would be so funny to pretend you had murdered my older brother? Remember how funny my younger brother and I thought that was when we found him laying on the kitchen floor covered in "blood" with you cackling like a mad woman? No, we weren't terrified at all you crazy bitch. Great Parenting! Thanks for not being a raving psycho!" However, I refrained. Instead I picked the least personal card I could find, and mailed it to her.. despite the fact that she lives less than a half a mile from me. I also called her this morning. She screens her calls though so I made a point to call from a number she would not recognize so I could just tell her voicemail Happy Mother's Day instead. Then I called my Step-Mom to wish her a Happy One and chatted warmly with her about everything under the sun for an hour.
Seriously though.. how in the hell could anyone think it would be funny to prank a small child with something so terrifying? I was old enough to understand death, but not yet clever enough to tell the difference between ketchup and blood. Specially with a large butcher knife covered in it, and my brother as well. I, however.. was old enough for my survival instinct to kick in and grabbed my younger brother and ran like hell. No, not traumatizing at all. It was my older brother that ran after us yelling.. "Sissy, we were just playing. She said it would be funny!", while she was still laughing her ass off. Yes... yes.. so fucking funny I had forgotten to laugh.
Happy Mother's Day...
