I hate being called a liar.  With a passion.  I work so hard to make sure that I am always honest.  To the point of having people that avoid me or just don’t like me because I don’t tend to beat around the bush.  I respect people that are honest and up front with me, even when it hurts me.  It’s a big thing to me.

Yesterday I got an email from Tom, where he called me a liar.  Not in those exact words, but it was his message.  So I of course could not get to sleep because of this.  So I threw on a robe, went to the garage, and started digging my way to the little plastic filing cabinet we have buried under other things.  I got there, despite the ‘help’ of two cats.  I couldn’t get the drawer open all the way.  So I pushed and shoved and strained and got to the Verizon folder.  Then proceed to go through years of bills hoping that just one would show that I had called him.  Unfortunately it appears that sometime ago Verizon stopped putting all of your calls on your bills.  I am guessing that happened with the switch to unlimited long distance calling.

I decided that I would contact Verizon and see if there is anyway to get the phone records for our old phone.  This seemed to appease the nagging in my head to find proof. 

Then I decided to try to find the old email I had from one of David’s friends with the list of Thomas Gordons in PA.  That way if I could find the records I would have the number and know what I was looking for.  I had looked for this before and not found it, but I did last night. Awesome.  I would be able to prove it.

So then I lay there in bed being angry about other things.  Why hadn’t he called me to ask me to come visit between the ages of 12 and 16?  Why was it me that had to do the calling when I was 16?  Even if he left our meet up then with the impression that I was going to call him, why not make the extra effort and call me instead?

He said in his email that he had expected me to call him and give him info on the play I was in.  I remember that he was to call me.  Does it really matter?  Neither of us called.  Both of us wanted the other person to be the one to make the effort.  Can I see myself at 16 drawing a line in the sand a deciding that if he really wanted to be part of my life that he would make this effort?  Absolutely.  After all I was the one that finally broke the silence between us.  I was the one that called him to see how he was.  Why did I have to do all the work?  Why couldn’t he call?

I am sure that argument plays out very similarly on his side.  She wrote that awful letter, why should I call her, she should call me.  I drove down there to see her.  Why should I make more effort?  She will call me if she really wants me.

I think we were both standing off with each other without telling each other and we both failed each other.

Then as I lay there more and more angry, I realized it didn’t matter.  All I need for us to work on a future knowing each other now is for him to recognize that he played a part in our ordeal.  That it wasn’t all me.  I need him to take responsibility for not trying as hard as he should have.  But I also realized something else, I don’t need him to do that in order for me to let go and forgive the past.  I am going to work on letting that all go, for me.  And if he does want to work on us, if he does want to try to clear the slate and get to know me now, then great.  But I no longer need his apology to heal myself.  I am in control of that.

I was all set this morning to try to find the phone records, but I no longer feel a need to prove that either.  I know I tried, I also know I didn’t try hard enough.  When I found the list of Toms, his info was at the top of it.  I have had it this entire time.  I could have called more.  I could have sent a letter.  I could have driven up there and knocked on the door. (probably best I didn’t do that, but I could have)  I tried just enough to say “I tried”.  I should have tried harder.  Maybe I wasn’t ready.  Maybe I was still too scared of rejection.  I don’t know why and I can’t change the past, but I can move forward.  He will need to make a leap of faith and believe me when I say I did call his number.  Whether he does or not is up to him.  I know I did, and I know I don’t need to prove it.

(For my daughters)

Never be ashamed to say you love someone,

Only say it when you mean it though.

Give it away freely and without strings attached,

But not so freely that it feels insincere.

Hold it warmly when it is given to you,

It is a precious gift and should be treated as such.

If someone loves you and you do not love them in return,

Be kind, because that is a hard place to be in.

Do not lie about your feelings to make them feel better,

Because in the long run, that will hurt them more then help them.

Try not to fall in love with love itself,

That is a dangerous path to travel.

Remember that even when you give part of yourself with love,

That part of you is not lost, it is merely shared.

With great love comes great risk,

If there is no chance of you being hurt, there is no chance of loving greatly.

When you do get hurt, and you will,

Remember the pain will not last forever, and it is not without it’s purpose

The most important thing I can tell you about love,

Is I love you.

I find myself wondering,

Is this the best part of any relationship?

Right now, even before there is a relationship.

In this moment everything and anything is possible.

It’s so hard to want to know the answer,

to want to know if this will go somwehere,

to still wonder what your kisses taste like.

I’m almost in pain from the curiosity alone.

Sweet sweet lingering pain.

I have to know

and if it doesn’t work,

if we fall out and have no future,

at least we will always have right now,

this moment,

when anything and everything is possible.

I want to ask you so many questions

I want to know you

I want to learn who you are, what you are like, if you laugh when I say the word fartknocker

I don’t want to scare you away and I don’t want to pressure you

I am busting at the seems though

My dreams are full of you and the other two

I lay awake last night unable to stop thinking about what you might say, what you might ask, what I would say in reply

Dangling possibilities tease and torment me

I searched so long

There is a weight lifted from me knowing I don’t have to search anymore

And a sense of weight added for the what now?

As a family we like to watch America’s Got Talent. We do it every season and it’s great fun.  This last season they had on a young man named Steven Retchless.  He is a male pole dancer.  He has studied various forms of dance since he was a little boy.  He has AMAZING talent. I mean look at his form!

Photo by Robert John Clay

Now Sharon Osborne loved him dearly, Howie Mandell warmed to him, and Peirs Morgan showed a level of discomfort with the male body that is usually left for male Republicans that are sleeping with their young firm male assistants while out of the house and then only touching their doting Republican wives for photo ops and to procreate.

For myself, and the rest of the family, we thought he was wonderful.  His training and ability were incredibly clear and down right fantastic.  There is so much beauty and heart in his performances.

Now that you have some background information, let me tell you how Trin broke her father.

David and I were in the kitchen when Trin comes in.  (We had just been watching some AGT.)  

Trin proudly announces to me, “When I grow up I want to be a pole dancer!”

Now, she was neatly placed between David and I, and facing me, so I had a great view of David’s face when she made this little announcement.  Luckily, I have almost mastered the ability to keep composure and not change into the kinda of shock/horror/completely baffled expression that was now on David’s face.  Instead I talked to her about it.

Me: Oh and why is that?

Trin: It’s just really pretty and looks like lots of fun.

Me: Well you know most pole dancers are also strippers.

And without missing a beat…

Trin: Oh well I could do that if I needed the money, it’s ok.

And that is where she broke me and I lost all composure to laughter.

I was reading The Bloggess, and I thought “HA!  I want to be like her”.  yes I do laugh in my thoughts thank you very much.  Then I thought of David saying to me, “But you are!”  And I thought, “Oh right!  I am!”

Then it also occurred to me that I have a blog and I can write this type of silliness too and that it wouldn’t matter if no one read them, because it’s not like anyone is hearing these silly conversations I have in my head anyway, but I still have them.

So I say to myself, “Self, you can use the practice writing, so just write about the most inane stuff.  It doesn’t matter.  Just write.” 

So here I am writing about not much at all and hoping that it comes out a little funny.

Is it working? 

Eh well, we can’t all be comedians.

Up next, something funny. Promise.  Maybe.

I got my first rejection for Blake Says last night.  It didn’t really bother me at the time.  I was almost relieved.  It meant that someone had read it, even if they didn’t want it, it was being read.  Then in the wee hours of the night when one is meant to be sleeping, I was instead wide awake obsessing.  I wasn’t even obsessing about Blake Says, I was obsessing over the one I’m starting.  It was this intense concern, that if no one wants Blake Says that they will want the next one.  That I have to keep on going and keep on trying.  At the same time though, I feel like I have this great idea, that is just missing one thing to make it awesome.  I have no fucking clue what that one thing is, but my story or character is missing it, and until I figure it out, it won’t work.

Every once in a while in my obsessing about the next thing, I would feel ever so slightly sad about my first rejection.  That feeling was quickly washed away with the fear of “the last rejection”.  This first one doesn’t really sting, but what happens when my little spread sheet is almost full of ‘NO’s.  I am trying very hard not to think about that.  Instead, I will work on the next thing.

Why do I reread my query letter every time I send it out, like it has somehow changed from the last time?  Also, why is it so nerve wracking every single time I send it?!

There is a lot going in directions that are really trying at the moment.  Many of which are to do with money.  And I’m not quite sure how we are going to make everything work, but for right at this moment I am going to make a gratefulness list and focus on the positive.

I am grateful for…

My family.  They are loving, supportive, and not ‘normal’.

The roof over my head.  Especially for it not collapsing during the earthquake.

For the earthquake in general being as non-damaging at it was.

For my new friends.  It’s nice to get back into the acting world, and it was doubly nice to have met some great people out of it.

For having the strength to make it work, even if sometimes it’s hard.

Gratefully Yours,

~Cecily