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Mar. 1st, 2015

My truck turned up. Or, what was left of it. Cue nightmares tonight.

Mar. 1st, 2015

Looking at my food journal for the last week and knowing that I'm going to have to listen to my therapist...

Today: a handful of cashews, two squares of dark chocolate and a clementine.

Yesterday: a latte and a scone.

The day before: half a protein shake (they're fucking gross) and a Luna bar.

I'd go on but it's just more of the same. I've been hiding from Emma and Z. If Kal can't bear to look at me, nobody else should have to either. At this rate, maybe I'll just disappear...

Mar. 1st, 2015

Now the question becomes: do we buy a house or continue to rent? Nikki has his place that he rents and occasionally sleeps at. I have a 2-bedroom in Brooklyn that I'm finally able to afford the rent on. Real estate prices in the areas we're looking at are astronomical. Of course, I'm also out of my league here a little.

By myself, I could never afford a home here. I mean, Stack of Puppies is doing well enough that we're able to release our album on frivolous things like vinyl, but we're not superstars. Warped Tour last summer was the first time we weren't schlepping around in a van. Seriously.

Funny thing, though. Tumblr is saying I'm already pregnant.

Mar. 1st, 2015

My parents are superheros. Out of the thousands of people in the DC area, they found each other by accident. There's a story of a stolen Yorkie who became my best friend; who was snuck into hospitals to sleep with me. There are plenty of people who want to kill both my parents--my mom, because of what she represents and my dad because of what he's done.

I'm just a girl with a broken heart. Literally. My dream has always been to save babies, the tiniest humans like myself, who, without their neonatologists, wouldn't have a fighting chance or have mothers to fight with them. I'm Daddy's girl. He's all about breaking the rules my mother is all about enforcing. I inherited music from him and from my mother, I got drive.

I'm Charlie. Not Charlotte.

Mar. 1st, 2015

I hope those morning after pills work like they say they do.

Not putting this behind a cut

My sleep schedule has been so skewed. I've been trying to tell myself it's because the weather has thrown off everything but who the fuck am I kidding? Fuckwad got under my skin. For as glorious as telling him off was... it would have been better if I had just ignored him. No. It would have been better if I hadn't seen him at all. Because then I wouldn't get caught in the pain spiral. I remember. I hurt. I try to use different methods to ignore the hurt like some baking and some Netflix and aren't naps just the best? Then it's a week later and I'm up at 5 in the morning skimming over the dregs of the internet finding articles about the brilliant J Lo. I seriously have nothing against her. But I found an article with this gem:

"Perhaps the most interesting comment from our interview with JLo was her views on infidelity: "I think it's about realising it's not about you. When someone cheats on you, it's about them... about their shortcomings."

You know what? That helps. It does. You have to get to a point where you realize your lying cheating asshole partner is the one to blame. But please, could you say this while not promoting your movie where you play a lying cheating asshole? Could you do this while not glamorizing infidelity? Because you're... yet again... making it about the person who's cheating. "It's not you, it's me" is exactly right. It was always about him and what he wanted. It was never about what I went through. Because adulterers are selfish shits and everything has to be about them. It's their suffering. It's their pain. It's all about them. Always.

And I was ready to just mentally flip off Ms. Lopez. But luckily for her I'm obsessive and I dig and I dig and I realize I'm just being overly sensitive. I realize she's not defending the action just because she's acting a part in a movie... I find this...

'I remember being on the set and being in my dressing room and not feeling like I could get up in the morning and there's just no pain like that.

'There's no pain or failure like going through a divorce.

'That hope, that dream, that fairytale, with that first time that dream gets blown to pieces,
you feel like you're going to die.

'You feel like you failed. You feel like no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make it work.'


And it may sound cliche enough to make some people around here roll their eyes and brush it off because they're on the other side of this. Because looking at someone else's pain isn't fun. And yes I realize I hold grudges. And yes I realize I need to let shit go. But goddamnit I am so sick and tired of listening to people defend this shit. If I can serve as a thorn in someone's side... an annoying, "JFC why won't that bitch shut up about it and get over it" thorn... I'll feel satisfied. I don't mind being the voice of the forgotten spouse. The wronged party. I don't mind being the reminder that while yes, it's the lying cheating asshole who is the real failure in all of this... there's someone else they're conveniently ignoring. Pain they are deliberately whitewashing because it's all about them. How sad that they didn't know how to appropriately end a marriage. How awful that the only way they knew how to cope was by looking for comfort elsewhere.

Three years ago I threw my husband out of our house after he didn't come home. After three months of knowing he slept with someone else and three months of him saying he wanted to work on our marriage. I have a great job. I bought a car and a house on my own. I have a partner who is kind and understanding. But that pain is still there. I feel that grief as strongly as I feel the grief of losing my father. Because it is so similar. It is the death of something you loved and cherished and couldn't imagine your life without.

Defend yourselves. Defend your partners. I will stand here and argue till I'm blue in the face (ha, actually not where I got my username from but amusingly kind of appropriate) in defense of the people you fucked over. I dare you. I dare you but fully expect to be ignored because adultery is an act of cowardice.

Nice people piss me off

One of the things I like about not being in the band is that no one notices you. Well, maybe a couple fans see a pass and try being really nice to get access to the band. But generally you're ignored. Well not today. Today three different people have come up to me all excited that Jade's son was touring with Carlos' daughter... except not really because I didn't play. Why didn't I play? It would be so much more awesome if I was in the band. Was it because I couldn't play? Was that why I was touring with starlightfell because that way I could still get recognized as Jade's kid? Not that they thought it was a bad thing. They seemed genuinely kind and sincerely interested in what kept me from following in my mother's footsteps. It's the hearing problem, right? I'm that Gadling kid. And then oh how nice that they let me tag along and feel included. How sad to be deaf and be Jade's kid and how kind of Elena to allow me to watch her carry on my mother's legacy.

Really wishing we could be back in Amsterdam and I could just get blazed because I can't be mean to these people. Because they're nice fans. Savina told me I should've toured with them. Because not only would I be home by now but I would have been able to be as big of an asshole as I wanted to be with their fans. I love my cousin but goddamn do I miss being able to tell people off.

Feb. 28th, 2015

The hardest thing about being a mother isn't kissing bumps and bruises, it isn't wiping away tears, it isn't even answering all the unanswered "whys". The hardest thing about being a mother is trying to explain to a little girl who trusts the world implicitly why some people hurt other people. I hate it because it means watching that little bit of that light go out of her eyes.

Feb. 28th, 2015

Talking about things is supposed to be therapeutic apparently but I don’t see it. Why would I want to talk about what happened? We lost three members of our crew to we’re not even sure what and in order to go back to work we have to do these mandatory psych evals.

Been seeing this therapist since we got back to Earth but only because it’s a requirement to keep my job. I don’t want to talk about shit-- no one does. We lost Nell and the twins… why the fuck would I want to relive that again?

I know Hannah is doing worse than I am and Jack is a fucking mess. Haven’t talked to Howell even though I want too. It’s not good if we talk-- I’ll end up saying something stupid.

What was the point of this again? I have no idea. It was my attempt to rant against therapy while actually doing something my therapist suggested.

Who the fuck knows anymore.

Feb. 28th, 2015

You have questions, vexandsiloence, ask. I'm willing to answer as best I can.

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