ON THE CROSSROADS — Jumping Into The Deep End, For Better Or For Worse.

Reflection from April 15th, 2008 @ Age 26


Well I followed up today and my boss turned me down on the 7:30am—4pm schedule.  Funny thing was, he was afraid if I moved to that schedule then our schedules wouldn’t overlap adequately enough to function or what the fuck ever.  Not to say that our schedules would still overlap seven goddamn hours of every motherfucking day.  Not to say.  Asshole.

Anyways, I was pretty fucking irritated at first if you can’t tell.  I sought to shed tears and I did in fact shed a few, but literally only just the few because then I came upon a crossroads.  I realized, this is only all the more motivation to keep working like hell on this book, to really make it happen.  And you better believe it’s fucking motivating as all hell would be.  So that helped me to feel a bit better.  But then I started to think about Andy and Rachel.

Andy and Rachel won’t let me babysit Bryce.  I’ve offered many many times and the kid’s almost a fucking year old and I’m his godmother for god’s sake, and they won’t allow me to babysit my nephew.  And I’ve told them before that if there’s anything I don’t know that I would need to know in order to babysit him, then I would like to learn.  Well, nothing in response.  Rejection all over the map.  I want to be angry but I’m really not angry, I just feel hurt because I feel like they don’t trust me with their son.  And I can’t think of anything I’ve done to lead them to feel that way.  Things just are that way.  Her family can babysit, her family is family, our family, we’re just a bunch of guests, a bunch of outsiders who won’t be let in.  And there’s not a whole fucking lot more I can do about it.  I mean, I could definitely tell them I feel like they don’t trust me and why that hurts me, but lemme tell you they have mucho problemas right now and don’t need the extra hassle.  So I convert to my childhood mold and leave my feelings out of it; I leave myself out of the situation for the greater good of all.  So that’s that.

Bobby hasn’t written back and I daydream about him and then I panic, I think what if he doesn’t write back?  I’m waiting for the high he gives me when he writes his sexy words for me.  I’m waiting; it always seems I’m waiting.

Well other than that, I still think my job’s a fucking bore, I couldn’t balance an account today because I was off by 27 goddamn cents, I still have to count away the hours of my life because I hate being there, I still dream with no avail, I still wonder if dreaming’s even worthwhile anymore.  I’m still me amongst the pressures and the angst life throws at me.  I thought today—look at yourself Maris, look at how beautiful you are and all that you have accomplished.  These trials and tribulations, every damn one of them make you that much more beautiful, and add that much more character to my already infinite bounds of strength and persistence.  I choose to believe today that my dreams can come true.  I choose to believe that I can write this book—hell I’ve already written it!  I’m gonna finish this book and I’m gonna be an author and I’ll pay off my loans and my debts, I’ll buy myself a convertible and drive around and smoke cigarettes and blare my music and beam sunlight from my very being.  I’ll be there, one day; today I choose to believe that I’ll be there one day.  I choose to believe I’m so close I could touch it, if only I could yet see it.  Whatever it is—whatever my dreams are, whatever I want, I will have.  I will persist and I will fight and I will seek and I shall find.

I think—look what you did Maris.  You gave voice to your desire and you found strength to draw from the denial thereof.  You’re so much more than I could ever imagine.  Not in your wildest dreams my love—you’re so much more than you can ever imagine.  Just wait love, and you shall see.  Hold on love, and you will see.


God I hate the fucking news!  I watched it tonight over dinner with my parents because they always have to watch the fucking news over dinner, and a cougar was loose in Chicago but hadn’t hurt anyone and the motherfucking police assholes shot it dead.  Just like that.  They claim self-defense, but if there’s nothing in the first place to take defense to, that pretty much obliterates the argument.  Henceforth I conclude that the fucking police were too goddamn fat to catch the cat and too fucking stupid to call animal protective services who, you know, catch animals for their job and all.  Assholes.  I hate the fucking news.  I don’t want to watch the news.  I don’t want to read the news.  I don’t want to know the news if it’s all the fuck about the evil nature of human beings.  Because that’s all these people are interested in seeing.  They watch their goddamn TVs every night because they have nothing better to do, and they want to see people who they can judge to feel better about themselves.  I hate the fucking news.  My dad said “geez Maris,” and I said, “does my passion alarm you?”  No answer.  No response. 


I wonder how Bobby loves me.  I wonder if he loves me to the ends of the earth and beyond.  I wonder if he wants to love me everyday for the rest of our lives.  I wonder if he’s always loved me.  I believe he has.  But I do not know the extent of his love; I don’t know the bounds of his love.  I don’t know that it is not boundless.  I want to know.  I want to know everything.  I want to live and be happy and walk in gardens all misty wet with rain and know love all the days of my life.  I want but cannot yet know what I will find.  I can only wait and see.  That’s all it seems I ever do, is wait and see.  When will this waiting be done?!   

I suppose I’m not waiting to write my book though, and I’m not waiting to jumpstart a decent career for plan B, just in case.  I’m not waiting on living and loving and showing those who I love that I love them.  I’m not waiting on everything.  I’m waiting on the fruits of my labor.  What I have now is still elementary.  I’m waiting to bloom.