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misstree
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i've been full of words lately, but few of them have actually made it to blather. part lack of private net access, part because., well, it's been crazy and i'm afraid of my words being overheard by the wrong ears.
fuck ears. this is my blather, dammit, and if i can't use this place as a refuge, whatthefuck.
anyway.
stray_cat. yep. again, always, still. staying with a meth dealer. it's not the prettiest culture to be around, but when a friend compared me to hunter_s the other day, something rang a bell. not that i'm going to go into a journalistic narrative of it, not yet at least, but the plethora of things i've tasted in this life... well, add this to the pile. sometimes i wonder if i'm supposed to become wise or worldly or something from all of this, but i figure it will happen as it will.
so, yes, i'm surrounded by tweakers. i indulge occasionally, but not when i have to work. but there's desperation, theft, fear of the law, there's a threat around every corner. the person i'm staying with is relatively atypical, as he's somewhat intelligent and not quite off his rocker, but he's not the best match for a tree like me. he's a bit sex_obsessed, and though i've claimed a recent reprieve from sex, i'm fairly certain that if i don't break that soon, he won't react well... don't get me wrong, it's fun and all, but feeling like a whore kind of kills the drive.
enough about that. there's the job, and then there's my slice of cheezecake.
i'm working at a fabric store. ever since i started sewing, i've idolized the people on the other end of the counter. they get to stare at all the pretty fabrics all day, talk to all these people about their projects, get a discount, be surrounded by color and inspiration. well, now, for the second time, i *am* that person. i'm working at a fabric store the size of a walmart. the quilting fabric section is as big as most other fabric stores. it's amazing. and they love me there. i have previous experience, and they had me work in wholesale, which people either love or hate. i *loved* it. and they loved me. they'll likely going to have me work back there part time. i've worked in bridal for the past two days, and loved it there, though it's difficult... but it makes me more indispensible, and they don't expect me to know anything, just to learn and ask questions. it's a decent distance out of town, and neccessitates public transport, but in theory i'll be able to find a home close to the max light rail line, which would tickle me pink.
that's one more thing i want to babble about: trying to find a home. i finally get a paycheck on the 25th, after being flat broke for so long, having to ask the person i'm staying with for bus fare every day, relying completely on another person, i will have cash. i will have just enough to pay first month's rent on a place. but not deposit. or be able to feed myself, smoke, or transport myself to and from work. there's a friend who will help me financilly if he can, if he can have some assurance that i'm not going to blow the money on anything stupid and i really need it and if he can spare it. that's a lot of ifs. so that;s a bit of stress.
and on to the cheezecake. or sugarplum, if you prefer. he might have been mentioned previously in these pages... back when i was in iowa, he and i had an unexpected encounter in the back of a moving car, while he was dating the girl that caesar later left me for. he was yummy. i had lusted after him from first meeting, but he was attached at the time, and i'm not a homewrecker unless invited.
heh. but we messed around anyway. when i saw him at the last iowa goth event i went to, i said, "i'm moving to portland," and he said, "me too," and i thought he was joking. i really should have slept with him that night; later ended me up in the mental hospital again.
well, he's here, staying with his brother a little ways out of town, and i got to visit him at his clanhome the other day, and i had a blast, and we had lots of fun once we retired for the night. and when they met me at the train stop, he opened the door for me. he's rough around the edges as i am, but he's got this considerateness and grace that's damn near captivating. and the hug that was exchanged at the train was genuine and warm, a real happy_to_see_you moment. and he has a tattoo gun and i have spare flesh. and he is an artist. and when i mentioned that i was badly in need of releasing some brutality, he offered to let me beat him. i didn't have my belt, but he did help relieve some tension without brutality. he's alpha, of course, and insistent but gentle, not at all hesitatnt to step into control. he's intelligent as hell, loves horror movies, is a chaote with ten times the book knowledge that i have, and his whole family is a bit on the energy_sensitive side. and his family swears almost as much as i do (though my current residence does increase my swearing quite a bit.) he has an unidentifiable city accent and yummeh tattoos and he's strong enough that i know he'd win a tussle. he's a lab assistant, so he gets to do everything from sticking people with needles to shoving gauze into infant corpse craniums to bringing home fingers. he's into the metaly end of goth, but it's reassuring that he has flaws. ;) he dresses tres well when he goes out, but he's not a fashion bitch. and oh boy is he a unique and fun tumble. lots and lots of fun. and that's a definite prerequisite. it's just the first stages of squishiness, and both of us are trying to restart our lives, so there's no hurry to get involved. but it's this happy fuzzy thing, no stress, just patience and grins and mellow anticipation and a hunk of land in the woods with a really cool clan that i can go visit. even the kids were cool, and i despise most kids. so yays for the tree.
and one more major shining spot, aside from the badazz job and new squishiness. meh hubby is coming! *does major happytreedance* it's not definite, but it's in the lead for possibilities. having him around is one of the best things ever. there's a reason we got married; aside from being one of my oldest and best friends, we always have eachother's backs in whatever is needed, we take care of eachother like nothing else, he's the best roomie i can ever imagine, he helps me keep sane through the crazy times and somehow he helps me be me. it's fucking awesome. so awesome that all of this barely scratches the surface. but he's coming to town, and so i get my puppycrusher and accomplice and hubby back. yays! just knowing that he's coming makes me feel like "every little thing is gonna work out fine."
and, well, it's true. no matter how crazy shit is at the moment, there's always another one around the corner. and i have a story to tell that i don't even remember, so i'm going to end this ramble and shift gears...
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050822
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