Monday, May 30, 2005

Yeah, I know. It's been years since I've blogged. Get over it. I was kidnapped today by my oldest and dearest friend. Actually, she's really not that old. Same as me so kiss my ass.

I got dressed to go out and left Baby with his father and grabbed the dog. We drove down into the bowels of The OC to get a gift card at Restoration for Carey's client. It was unreal.

I still feel like a heifer since giving birth. I gained 48 pounds and I was hoping that Baby would take at least 25 with him when he came out. He wasn't up to it, apparently. We decide since we had to go to The OC we'd be as obnoxious as possible. Since we're both so pasty white I decided it was an excellently good idea for both of us to speak in fake British accents the whole time. I made Carey do it from as soon as we got in the car.

We took PCH down which was really asinine. We had to get through the infamous Huntington Beach all faux gauntlet. It's been eons since I've been down OC way and I forgot about all the runners and the traffic. All along PCH people run in front of your car like it's nothing. Good thing Carey's car has sharp brakes. We had the sunroof open and we were listening to 103.1 the wole way. She gets tense when I honk and scream at people but I don't care. They deserve it for being so stupid.

So we get down there and I let Enoch out. I thought he would die of joy after being in the car for so long. We could hardly contain him because he kept trying to stick his head out the sunroof. He's used to riding in Ben's Safari. I finally had to make him sit on my lap so we could get him to calm down. That's very British, isn't it?

We wandered around gossiping and I let Carey have Enoch until he got away from her and jumped in one of the fountains. They let you have your dogs at Fascist Island if they're well-behaved. Hmhmm. Do you think Enoch gives a shit? Neither do I. I got him out and then he shook off and got several Ralph Lauren Yacht Club members nice and wet. It was quite amusing, love.

We went to the Apple store and played with the computers. I sent some very naughty emails to some people I don't like. We tried on everything in Betsey Johnson and then we went to Anthropologie. Carey went out of her mind. She whipped out Ben's credit card and went to fucking town, baby. It was like the fantasy shopping spree of the universe.

This is what happened. We were in Restoration getting the gift card. From across the fucking room she sees this mirror. She gives me the cash and makes me stand in line to get the gift card. I don't even know her client's fucking name. She goes running over to this mirror and starts checking out this whole bathroom thing. Enoch and I get over there and she's got the little salesboy all loaded up with stuff. She looks at me and says "I saw Ben's bathroom just now. I know exactly what I'm doing". Famous last words. Trust me.

So she puts everything on hold. Then we get over to Z Gallerie and she puts a bazillion more shit on hold. So we go all through Fascist Island walking Enoch, speaking in fake British accents, and fantasy shopping for Dr. Ben.
Then we get to Anthropologie and she lost her fucking mind.

There was a huge sale and at first she started putting the stuff on hold like everywhere else. Then she goes to pay for the earrings she was buying for herself and she sees that she's got Ben's American Express card on her. And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, was all she wrote.

She bought all the shit she needed for Ben's palatial Loft and made them send everything they would to the loft office. We went back to every single store she'd put stuff on hold in and she repeated the process. I felt left out so I went into the Hugo Boss store and bought him some underwear and sunglasses and pants. I wanted to buy him shoes, but I don't know his size. I know his pants size because it's the same as Mr. Steve's and everybody knows Mr. Steve's pants size.

So we're pretty much enjoying ourselves and Carey's going on and on about all kind of decorating shit I have no idea about. Who cares as long as she's happy. So we're grooving along buying a bar set in Pottery Barn and Carey's phone rings. It's Ben calling from New Zealand. He wants to know where the hell she is and what the hell she's doing and why the hell she's talking like that and who is she with and is that Enoch with her? She freaked out so I grabbed the phone.

His stupid AmEx people called him to alert him to unusual charges. He authorized everything but he was kind of pissed. It was the middle of the night for him. I told Ben not to get his balls in an uproar. He finally calmed down and then I talked to Shug for awhile. They're having a blast as usual. They're still pissed at Mr. Steve. Aren't we all?

Carey has some fucking amazing plan about turning Ben's loft into a zen oasis by the time he gets back. I'm supposed to keep it all hush hush, so mum's the word, duckies.

So we went to the Cheesecake Factory because we were in The OC and we don't know any better, being British and all. We took ourselves for a drink on Ben's dime. We deserved it after all that shopping. It was truly exhausting. No it wasn't. It was exhilirating.

We got mani/pedis on Ben's dime, too. Someone recently accused of being acrylic nail rich bitches so we decided nail care was in order. Neither of us have ever had "enhanced" nails. We've had enhanced hair. Carey wears contact lenses. Yeah, I think that's as far as it goes besides shaving and the maintenance of the girly hair in our golden palace of ecstacy.

I adore Baby but I didn't completely realize that having a baby changes your life like losing your legs. You have to change cars. You have to completely rearrange your house, your schedule, your whole outlook. You can't do anything until you've planned it down to the last detail. Everything becomes a logistical issue. I knew everything would change, but I really didn't know exactly how. I didn't know I would be calling friends to come over and watch Baby just so I could take a shower. I didn't know I would suddenly become concerned about the screech and volume of my own voice. I didn't know I would ever care about anyone more than my husband, the most perfect man in the universe. Yes, even more perfect than Henry Rollins, or Ian MacKaye, or Joe Cole, or Ewan MacGregor.

Do I sound like the woman in a made for TV movie? Do I sound like I'm on PAX TV? Well, fuck you. I don't give a shit. I had fun today. So did Carey and Enoch. And when I got home both my babies were still alive. If we live day by day what more can anyone ask than a great day and the comfort that they will continue.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 8:25 PM
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Lalala. I just got home from L's birthday party. I hope it was fun. I totally screwed up because I didn't know there was more than one Gaby's Mediterranean. We ended up at the one on Venice instead of in Venice. How retarded. We ate and had cake and conversation. TS is so funny. He totally lights up the room. I'm happy JM made it even for a little bit. It's nice to see him once a year or so. As long as L is happy.

We went to Hinano's afterward. The strand was crazy of course. The bar was loud and some neanderthal spilled L's wine all over her top. I don't think he even realized what he'd done he was so drunk. TS wanted to pour beer down the back of his pants but we let him go. It wasn't so fun after that but RH wanted to stay and so SN and I stayed with her and La Bella B for a bit. I was supposed to meet L and TS up at the Abbey, but I got totally sidetracked to the this place SN just moved into.

These people we kind of know are totally rehabbing this massive old house in Arlington Heights to be a youth hostel. It's insane. The place was built in 1926 and is about 10,000 square feet. Every room is amazing with all the molding and tile and button light switches. They're slowly tricking the whole place out. It's going to be totally amazing when it's finished. Man are we gonna have some great parties there or what?

Tuesday morning I'm going to to order up a search and history and property profile for the address. I'd like to see what that place looked like when it was fresh built. It's going to be amazing. I'm so excited. I have to forward CA a list of all my contacts and vendors.

Okay, I'm tired now. Tomorrow I only have two things to do and then my day is my own. Of course I'm going to spend it cleaning my house. Does that excite you beyond all measure? Me, too.

In ten days I get to start picking out Ben's appliances and options. That'll be fun. BR said he would help me choose the tile pattern. It'll be different than anything else in the building, but that's what Ben is all about. It'll be cool. I just want to make sure it's special for him. It's Ben. I have to make sure everything is done right.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 1:24 AM
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Sunday, May 29, 2005

MP's sister is a mad alcoholic. Last night just after I crawled into bed he called me and asked me to go with him to pick her up at the police station. Who the fuck drinks and drives on a checkpoint weekend?

He's been wanting to kick her out for about the last six months. She's a fucking drag. Everything is everyone else's fault. She's always crying about her kids that got taken away from her. Then when she does have them over she screams at them the whole time.

Those poor babies. The little girl has metal caps on her teeth because her idiot parents had her on juice bottles until last year and her baby teeth all rotted. MP made a photoshop picture for her of how she'll look when her new teeth come in. She's the sweetest little thing. She's going to be an absolute knockout, too. She's got the palest skin and the darkest eyes and hair. Her hair is super curly and she's tall for her age. Her mom's a skinny and I think she will be, too. All she wants out of life right now is to see Madagascar which I think is an animated film. I'll have to check it out.

The little boy is a mini MP. He's chubby and hyperactive. Too smart for his own damn good. Bossy, too. The little girl couldn't answer any of MP's questions the other day when we had to drive them home. She kept looking at her older brother for the answers. That was kind of strange. He would answer all the questions or he would tell her what to say. It was very much like some couples I know. It makes me a little nervous.

They live with their sack of shit father in a shithole. He's a recovering meth addict and is now working as a truck driver. Wait a minute. Meth? Truck driving? I don't know if this recovery is really going to work out. The other day I was at MP's getting our next mailing ready and we heard the kids outside between the back house and the big house. I'd never met them before and MP told me to stay in the house but I went outside anyway.

As soon as I saw those kids I wanted to slap his sister. They were dirty in dirty clothes. Their hair was not brushed and the first words out of my mouth were "Have you eaten today?". The answer was no, of course. It was already nearly 11am. The little boy said his mom was drunk in the back house and asked MP if he would take them home.

Poor MP. He just looked at me and shook his head. I took the kids inside and turned on cartoons for them. Then I cleaned up our project while he got into it with the drunk. I heard these weird cat-like sounds coming from the driveway and I heard MP yelling "Get your ass back here". The noises sounded like when Courtney Love crashed Madonna's interview with Kurt Loder that time. Then someone starts honking a horn and the kids jump up and run outside.

This crazy drunk bitch is in her car, that MP bought for her, honking the horn and yelling at her kids to "get your fucking asses in the goddamn car". Charming. I made the kids get back in the house and closed the door. After some yelling outside MP came back in and got his keys and told the kids we were leaving.

We got in the car and MP just looks at the kids and looks at me and shakes his head and sighs. We drove to Target and bought them some clean clothes and new shoes. I took the little girl into the bathroom and cleaned her up and brushed her hair. MP took her brother into the bathroom and scrubbed him. When we came out with the clean kids the little boy asked MP if they could keep the clothes. MP told them the clothes were gifts and that it was important to always be clean and tidy. Then when we got out to the car the little boy grabbed MP's keys and clicked the remote and opened the doors for everyone. He asked MP if he could do something "good" for him. We cleaned out the car and he took out the trash. I never saw a kid do something like that. I never saw a kid want to earn something.

We took them to McDonald's. I know that's bad, but it made them happy. We took them home and I sat in the car while MP dealt with their sack of shit father. He gave MP no information on the kids and then right as MP was getting back in the car he asked him for money. What a man.

It was so depressing.

I think MP is right to kick her out. He gave her that back house at a 50% discount and she still can't pay him. Plus she steals from him a little here and there. I can't believe she was going to drive with the kids in the car like that. She's a crazy drunk. We talked with NS and she told us about all these rehab centers and gave us the addresses and everything. I called them all and got the eligibility requirements. MP gave them to the drunk and she threw them away. She keeps coming up with all these reasons why she can't pay her bills, why she can't get her life together, why she drinks, blah blah blah. Everyone has their reasons. I'm not saying she lives a charmed life. It must be an enormous hardship for her to even get out of bed with all the baggage she has hanging on her shoulders. So she sits in the little house and drinks and cries about her kids.

So last night after her little yard sale, she went out somewhere and got nicked at the checkpoint. MP wanted me to go with him because he'd had two glasses of wine and he was afraid of getting nicked himself. She was mad that I was there. Too fucking bad. They're keeping her car because she's $50 short for the impound and MP won't give her the money to get it out.

I feel bad for her and I would never want to be in her position, but no one forces her to drink. No one forces her to spend her rent money on booze. I'm sure she drinks to hold back all the hurt, but she's just hurting herself more. And she's really hurting those kids.

I don't know what's going to happen to her. MP is done. For the last 6 years he's been helping, helping, helping. Nothing ever gets better. He bought her a computer so that she could get job training and pull herself forward. That didn't work out because all the people at the job training are "assholes" and won't give her a chance. He bought her a car so that she could have the freedom of transportation. Now he's relieved the police have it so she can't use it to kill anyone or herself.

It's like watching a slow death.

It makes me want to do better in my own life. Am I full of shit with my weight loss? Am I an asshole with my finances? Does my chaos make me a burden to my friends? God I hope not.

I have to get my own shit together. I have to get serious about my finances and my fitness. I have to. I can't be an asshole full of excuses.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 10:29 AM
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We've been all over this city tonight. I had to drop some stuff off at my sister's salon. It took me over an hour to get out of there. It was like one of those weird random connections where you just walk into the circle and the spotlight's on you. Then I went to the sale at Nordstrom's Rack. It was a nightmare. I don't know why I bothered. Yes, I do. I found a really great pair of Anne Klein mules that will go perfectly with my black and white skirt and my new Kate Spade bag.

I'm excited about L's birthday party. I hope it's fun. I always plan the worst parties ever. Parties are hard. I never know if people are having fun or just getting drunk. L wants the boys to show up but JW is still in New York on his modeling shoot. I think that's just so hysterical. I was hoping MG would come, but it's doubtful. We're not fun enough for him, perhaps? La Bella B and RH and AM are coming. I know TS and D and MM will be there. SN is coming but he's moving to that huge house in Ktown this whole weekend.

I read over the last scripts he sent me. I don't know if he's a comedic genius or if I'm just a moron. I don't know anything anymore.

Yes, I do. I know that I have to get my ass into a routine real quick like. I've got to get back into my exercize and meditation routine. I've been doing pretty good on the Jenny Craig. It's slow going but I don't care as long as it keeps going. I feel like my life is totally unstructured. It makes me feel as if every day I wake up and unless I have an appointment with a client I don't know what the hell to do with myself.

I can't wait to get my notary commission. Then I'll have a more stable schedule. Am I pathetic or what? I need more bowling shirts.

I need to write more. All during the long cold winter life was too bleak to write. Now that things are so much better I'm not in the mood.

We went to go see the all punk all cover band tonight. I saw Miss Ennui and her crowd at the gig. They all look so young to me. They all look so young and real. I wonder if I ever looked like that. Me and Rhonda and Jimmie and whoever I was dating at the time. Did we ever look so young and real? The band played some X, which at first I wasn't really into. Kind of sacrilegious. But they didn't play X like X. They played it kind of slower and smoother. It was like Beck doing X. It was actually okay.

Okay then. I'm going to lay in my bed and fall asleep to my hypnosis CD. Hopefully I'll wake up tomorrow a better person. That's what it's all about anyway, isn't it?

Isn't it?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:19 AM
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Friday, May 27, 2005

I closed escrow on the Wrigley property. I know you're all so relieved. I have to pay for my new car. Well, it's new for me. I have no fucking clue how to drive it. It's practically a limo. It's a BMW 735i. We've named it The Yacht. It's very pretty, though. It has a nice stereo system and heated leather seats and a sunroof. It's an automatic, though. I totally don't know how to drive automatic transmissions. If you let your foot off the brake the car starts moving all by itself. What the hell is that? That's not right. Plus you can't pop the clutch or anything because there is no clutch and the car has a computer brain. It has three modes of auto transmission, economy, manual, and sport. I haven't used the manual and sport because I can't figure them out. Yes, I'm a mental retard. But at least now I drive a pretty car that I won't be embarrassed to have clients ride in.

I have to get my crazy four units closed and get my client his upleg. Then I'll be able to, uhm what do they call it, oh yeah. Relax.

I want to get back into my meditation and prayer routine. I feel kind of desperate. This whole thing with Mr. Steve running off with the perfect pair of legs is just the last fucking straw. He hasn't even called me to say he won't be coming back. I have to hear it from Ben, which is honest communication but still qualifies as complete bullshit. May I remind you, Mr. Steve, that being a member of The Crew does not disqualify you as a Sunnyside Orphan. You have connections and if you want to sever them so completely, you have to accept that you will upset a lot of people by just walking away without even waving goodbye. And no offense to your lovely bride, but sleeping with or even marrying a CrewBoy doesn't make you an honorary (that's the correct spelling by the way) member of The Crew.

Life seems to be going through a little readjustment. We'll see where it all ends up I guess. As for me, hard work, staying the course, enjoying the journey? Sure, okay. My plan is to have goals. My goals are to make plans.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 10:33 PM
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Sunday, May 22, 2005

It's so hot today. I can't stand the heat. It's annoying. It makes me feel like sleeping all day. I'm here at work trying to will the phone to ring with a buyer who has money to burn. I've got a wallet for rent. I can't wait to close my next escrow. Then the next and the next. I don't know where my business will come from after that. I hope I find out about my mobile notary soon.

I'm tired. Everything seems topsy turvy lately. My friends went down to the Long Beach Pride Festival this morning and set up a table on the corner by my house. The parade goes right down my street. They're selling bottled water, hats that Patty made, and t-shirts that have funny sayings on them. They have a picture of the president with a slogan under it saying "Me Good Robot". Then they have one that has him as a puppet and Condoleeza Rice pulling his strings, but she's a puppet, too and all you can see pulling her strings is a big fat white hand.

I'm so tired. I just want to take a nap. I'm too tired to think or do anything else. I just want to go home and take a cool vanilla bath. I have a new car and I have to make a protection spell for it.

That's what I should do tonight. I should make some spells.
Yeah, I think I'm gonna do that.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 3:09 PM
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Wednesday, May 18, 2005

I'm so confused. There's something weird going on at the office. I think I have a handle on it, but it's hard to not wig out and then run home to hide under the covers.

AA is a freakshow. He keeps driving by my house and someone's been calling and hanging up. Big deal. But what really bothers me, and what I think is totally inappropriate is that he keeps coming up behind me and saying "bitch" or "slut" in a really nasty voice. He's pathetic, I know.

The mistake I made was in going to the management. He denied everything and now they're mad at me. They think I'm making it all up to get attention. Right, because this is so fun for me. So today I walked into a meeting about 10 minutes late because I was with a client and I got chewed a new asshole. It was beautiful.

The manager kept going on and on about my level of commitment and that I was negatively influencing others who were trying to learn how to get clients. Gee, Bob. I'm sorry I came to the meeting late. See, I was with my client. So, I probably shouldn't have been in your stupid jack ass training anyway since I already have two escrows at the moment. Why don't you figure out what level of commitment that is and shove the rest of corporate dogma right up your ass. I've already been lied to by the best in the business and I'm locking any more shackles to my ankles. So fuck you.

I didn't say any of that. I told manager man that no, I didn't think I was "misinterpreting' AA's behavior, and that no, I also didn't think I was being "overly melodramatic". Stupid me. I know better than this. I know the squeeky doesn't get grease. Squeeky wheels get replaced.

I walked out of that talk with manager man and I don't know what the fuck he was saying. He kept talking in such a roundabout way. He wouldn't get to the point or say anything out right. It's bizarro and I'm not going for it.

I don't need this kind of shit in my life. I've already had my fill from the professionall chaos monsters aka my estranged family. I'm not playing this kind of bullshit games with anyone. I don't give a shit about office culture. I just want to make money. I've brought clients in and I'm working hard and I'm not taking any egotistical mind-fuck bullshit. If I've really done something wrong, they need to cut the shit and tell what it is and what they want from me. I'm not going for this vague what is your evel of commitment bullshit. My level of commitment is getting the rent paid, fucko. I think they're just freaking out because they've lost a bunch of heavy hitters to another agency.

It's all about the bottom line. The other agency made those realtors a better deal and my office wouldn't step up and one by one they all split. Now there's just a handful of heavy hitters and a lot of empty desks. I think manager boy is nervous. Maybe word is coming down from on high for them to get their shit togther. I can understand they certainly aren't jumping for joy by my coming and saying AA was harrassing me, but he is and I'm not just going to pretend I'm sleeping while he tries to fuck me.

I don't know where this is going, but I'm not just going to smile sweetly and say thank you, sir, please may I have another.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 8:41 PM
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Sunday, May 15, 2005

When L gets back from London it's her birthday. She was a part of my birthday party conspiracy last October and I feel compelled to get her back. What to do? I think we're going to end up at C&O's Trattoria. I need to make a funny plan for her though. Should I order a stripper?

I'm exhausted. I've spent the last two days just lazing around my house. I'm too lazy to clean. I'm too lazy to do laundry or catch up on my spellwork. I'm just a fucking lazy ass. What's wrong with me? I think it must be the change in the weather.

I still don't know what to do about Stairmaster. I'll probably just let it be what it is. Undefinable.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:10 PM
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Thursday, May 12, 2005

Everything is going so well. I've lost 9 pounds. I found two Clash vinyls for only $3 each. I have two escrows that are going smooth as silk. I'm getting my bar back on Monday. Wow. It's like I've fallen through an interdimensional void and come back through the other side into Bizarro World. Too bad Bizarro me doesn't look like Meg Tilly.

Stairmaster is confusing me. I think we're just a c&c story. He comes over and we have mad sex. Sometimes we go out and then we come back and have mad sex. We're very compatible, sexually. So that's it, right? Wrong. See after we have mad sex, during the intermission, Stairmaster lies back on the bed, or sofa, or chair, or whatever, and rests. He likes to stroke my back, my hair, my bottom. Then he starts talking. Sometimes he tells me about work. Sometimes he tells me about his travels. He's gone all over the world. Sometimes he talks about when he was a kid. The other night he talked to me about his bicycle adventures when he was little.

I'm just wondering what all this means? If he wants a girlfriend, why doesn't he just get one? It's kind of weird. Should I stop giving him the free milk, or what?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 5:00 PM
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Monday, May 09, 2005

Everyone can do the happy dance with me. I opened escrow this morning on my four units. Woohoo. Now I can buy a car. I"m so excited. I've lost 7 pounds. I'm getting my bar back this week. I'm very excited about my life right now. I just want to blog that while it's happening.

I've been able to pay down so many bills and so far everything is looking good. I need more business, but I know it will come.

I'm still seeing The Stairmaster. I don't know where it's going or how long the ride will be. I guess no one really knows. Every time I say that I'm done with him he comes back. Now Swiss Boy is coming around again. How strange guys are. Boys are so dumb.

I want Rad and Patty to start a clothing line. Next year we are all going to France for L % D's big fat wedding. It'll be really cool. I'm buying my ticket asap and I have to save for the trip. I want to go to London, too. It should be a lot of fun. I'm looking forward to it.

Should I go see the Go-Go's at The Vault?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 6:19 PM
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Friday, May 06, 2005

So Peter Pan checked out on Wendy. What a fucking asshole. I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but c'mon. What a fucker. This is so why I don't ever want to get married.

They met 12 years ago. It was a set up. She thought he was sooooooo cute, which I did too, when I met him at the Holiday party last December. She thought he was sooooooo cool. Which he was in a mediocre kind of way. He had his tats and his vinyl collection. He listened to mostly the right kind of music. They had their fun for about 4 months. Notice the time frame. The first 3 months of fun had passed and just as they were getting to know who the other really was, just when she was getting the feeling that he wasn't all she thought, just as she was really starting to notice all those weird little things about him and his crazy family, just then she found out she was pregnant.

Holy fucking cow, how the hell did that happen? She'd been so careful. She immediately scheduled the appointment and notified the responsible party. He started crying on the phone. Not a good sign. He begged her not to go through with it. It was then that she started to suspect she'd been sabotaged. Years later he admitted that he'd faked opening the condom several times. Her friend drove her to the appointment and while she was still in the waiting room he showed up with flowers and a ring. He begged her to marry him and to have his baby and to be a family. He told her he was going to take care of her and the baby, and he declared his love and admiration for her and how he couldn't remember what life was like before she was with him, and he couldn't think of what it would be like without her and blah, blah, blah, sob, sob, sob.

So, 12 years and 2 kids later he's still working his shit job, still smoking dope like he's a Reggae superstar, and still unable to pay the light bill. Wendy had tried for 12 years to improve her life with and without him. She filed for divorce. He ignored it. She asked him to move out of her grandmother's house. He ignored her. The divorce went through and he still wouldn't move out. He started sleeping on the living room sofa and she started discreetly dating. She asked him again to move out and he continued to ignore her. The children became suspicious and hostile of both their parents. She put her grandmother's house up for sale and bought a new car.

Last Tuesday she woke up suddenly at 3am. This was very unusual. She went to get a drink of water in the kitchen and as she was doing that she looked out the window and saw her ex-husband hanging from the tree.

She ran outside and stood in front of him. He was standing on a plastic garden chair and had a noose tied around his neck. She noticed that it was the yellow nylon rope she'd bought for her oldest son's rock climbing class. He had his iPod on and she could hear the Ramones blasting from the earphones. She told him to knock the shit off and get down or she'd call the police. He didn't move. She was afraid to approach him. She went inside and called 911. The operator told her to get a sharp knife from the kitchen and cut him down. She got the knife but was too afraid to touch him. She was afraid he would think she was attacking him. She went back in the house and put a chair in front of her sons' room so they couldn't come out. The police and paramedics arrived. She looked down at the phone in her hands and realized the 911 operator was still trying to talk to her. She hung up the phone and watched as they cut him down and then she couldn't see what was happening because he was surrounded by people.

She started vomiting. One of the EMT's asked her if she needed help. She pushed him away and he fell into the rose garden. She locked herself in the bathroom and vomited several more times. She took a long shower. She got dressed and let her sons out of their room. They were already dressed. She drove to the hospital and couldn't hear their questions. Her youngest son was crying. They almost crashed into a limousine. They arrived at the hospital. The doctor told her he was DOA. She couldn't remember what that meant. She could only remember the old punk band. Chuck Biscuits was in DOA, wasn't he? Whatever happened to those guys. She hoped Chuck hadn't been involved in that horrible Black Flag reunion fiasco.

Dead on arrival. So then, he's dead? Yes. Completely? Unfortunately, yes. Is there anything we can do for you? Can we call someone for you? She said no, thank you.

The doctor wouldn't let her drive home. He had a cab pick them up. Her youngest son was still crying. They went home and they all went to bed. Her sons cried and she let her thoughts run.

What a fucking asshole. What was this? His last hurrah? What a fucking dick. If he was so weak to do this why couldn't he do it without all the drama? Why couldn't he just leave a note and a will and go out to the Angeles Crest and put a hose from his exhaust to his front window? Jesus fucking god what if the boys had found him? What a useless spineless motherfucker. Slowly she realized what had really happened. It was a Sylvia Plath. She was supposed to find him. That's why he had the Ramones playing so loud. She had a 6am appointment. He knew she would get up at 4 to get ready. She was supposed to see him and come runnning out with tears in her eyes and tell him how much she loved him and make him get down so they could get back together and continue on with their blissful family life.

Except that the chair broke and there was nothing he could do. She wondered how long he'd struggled before he passed out. She wondered what his last thoughts probably were. She hoped they were of his boys.

What a fucking idiot. What a stupid selfish asshole. Both the boys are in therapy. The youngest one freaked out on Monday. He was supposed to take a test and he started crying and then he started yelling at the teacher "My dad is dead. My dad killed himself".

What a dick.

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 12:07 PM
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Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Everyone can relax. My client decided to stay in the escrow he's in and go forward with the buy. How do you spell relief? M O N E Y. I have to get a buyer for my crazy four units. I have to I have to I have to.

I got my personalized self-hypnosis CD today. I'm so excited to try it out. I've lost 4 pounds on Jenny Craig. I can't wait to get back to a normal weight. I have so many cute clothes that I need to get back into.

I have to get my notary commission. MP already got his. I wonder what's holding mine up?

another mad ramble of The Shadow * 8:53 PM
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