Tag Archives: Kim

The chaos that led to and upheld the Cabin-Mansion

3 Feb

At first, I thought the Cabin-Mansion was really fancy with the loft, sky light, huge television, bar, and pool table on the inside and top-of-the-line spa, wrap-around deck, outside fireplace, and lovely view outside, but as I began to SEE the people in the atmosphere, the whole place became austere to me.  My expectations and environment became a paradox:  Where I had been anxious to get back to Dayton during those first days at school, I soon began to dread the sight of the bleaklandscape that was the Cabin-Mansion.

After I learned everyone was crazy, living there seemed grim and cold.  Even the vet hospital, which I had always loved, became a more harsh place to spend time.  It was also a contradiction–I loved being there as I always had, save for the fact Mary was acting hateful and ridiculous.  Mary’s constant dour expressions towards me, especially, made it all the harder to be there.  The desert was still beautiful, but after I became depressed the view took a harder, more desolate tone.  Then, the weather became severe and made the Cabin-Mansion, and Dayton, and Reno just awful places to live and work.

My view of my former mentor is ambiguous to this day:  I miss who I used to know, and can understand how she became the person she is, but I absolutely resent the way she treated me.  I’m not certain what I would do if Mary tried to contact me to disabuse all the damage that was done in 2007.  I cannot imagine Mary would ever try to set right her wrongs, anyhow.  Kim attempted in a feeble way to make Mary free of errors that were made by apologizing on her behalf–it’s not the same.  The sketchy behavior will never be corrected–I’m certain Mary will always blame me and exculpate herself from any blame.  Dayton will never be undeceived by Mary’s ruse–even if I do get my tell-all book published.  No matter how sorry Kim is, Mary’s behavior towards me was not innocuous.  My self-worth was deeply injured after I left the Cabin-Mansion–the constant games were hardly insipid.

So many things were wrong at that time–there is nothing incongruous about that.  My parents were not harmless to my well-being at that time in my life either–they damaged me a lot too.  Kim’s drinking was also not as benign as everyone in the inner circle tried to portray–she is going to probably die from her alcoholism.  Mary’s cheating was not inoffensive, though it didn’t directly affect me–I was crushed by her lack of morals.  After I witnessed Mary head-butting Kim in a drunken brawl, all propriety that had been securely in place for the duration of our relationship was forgotten.

Mary’s decorum towards me was aloof at best and downright mean at worst.  I was surprised at the lack of appropriateness in Mary, and didn’t expect such actions from someone turning 40.  Yes, maybe I was acting stupid, but a little guidance, or at the very least decency, could have gone a long way to improve things, rather than the horribleness that only made everything worse.  Mary’s last straw was when I impeded upon her modesty when I refused to look away and let her discretely get out of her hot tub.

Mary, Kathy, and Debi among others I’m sure, formed a cabal eager to knock me down and get me out of Dayton.  Mary acted as if she was a figure in the mob–very secretive and hard-core.  Like stuffed dolls, eager to conform and please and representing patriarchy, Mary’s clan in Dayton is mostly concerned about portraying a respectable image to the community, while living dirty.  This in-group was all cheating, drinking, and generally carousing around when they were old enough to know better.  It seems the gays always form a camp that is opposed to Republicans and church-goers.  Each one of their dummy personas verses their actual behavior created a dilemma–all of them portrayed themselves as pious, while partying.  I could never be involved in a coterie because I am an independent free-thinker.  I could not stand to live an effigy.

When I first went to Nevada, I was fairly adept at remaining incapable of being affected by my crazy parents–but as my morality began to weaken so did my resolve to keep them out of my life.  Mary thought this new version of Laurel was impossible to penetrate, but I felt I had good reason to be stubborn with my parents–I had to maintain certain boundaries for our relationship to grow and to gain my independence from them.  All I wanted was for them to actually listen to my opinions.  I was resistant to my parents at that time because they had become emotionally distant, financially barren, and were trying to control me as they had always done in the past.  Mary used this as an excuse to get me out of her (sketchy) personal business, and became emotionally impregnable towards me as a way of turning the tables.

I tried to be impervious to the atmosphere at the Cabin-Mansion, but failed on all fronts:  I drank too much just like them, was saturated in negativity, self-loathing, and apathy just like I had criticized in them, and I went back to Missouri broken.  Both Mary and my mom have always been dictatorial in their opinions.  Trying to make my own decisions didn’t work as long as those two were so domineering a force in my life–neither of them would ever really hear my voice.  I thought it was ironic that Mary didn’t like my mom for acting so authoritarian when Mary herself was also magisterial over her inner circle, family, and employees.  Like my mother, Mary didn’t respect me or listen to my opines.  Mary kept saying, “It’s none of my business, I’m not getting involved” regarding the deteriorating situation with my parents–yet she became imperious about demanding me to talk to them.  When I didn’t follow Mary’s bossy dictum, she cut off communication with me.  This also coincided with my masterful plan of placing a sock in the guest bed to see if the hairdresser was sleeping in it, or in Mary and Kim’s bed, which proved very, very dumb of me.  As soon as Mary realized I wasn’t stupid and I had seen her cheating, she became adamant about getting me away from her (and Kim) even going as far as to peremptorily ban everyone on her good side from speaking to me.  She was dictatorial in how others were allowed to interact with me–everyone was afraid to be seen talking to me, let alone hanging out with me.  Her doctrinaire hold over everybody amazed me, especially since they had only seen the good in me and didn’t know what I had done wrong.  Soon my overbearing mother didn’t seem so bad compared to Mary’s mob tactics to destroy me.

Song Lyrics (not mine) + cabin-mansion vocab I

27 Jan

“The only thing that I did wrong, I stayed in [Dayton four months] too long.”

In that time, my relationship with Mary, and ultimately Kim was sullied.

My impressions of both Kim and Mary were also defiled in a big way.

My memories of Kim and Mary were also tarnished when I realized what kind of people they had become or had always been–I wasn’t sure which scenario it was.

Mary besmirched her thirteen year marriage to Kim at every turn and it made me not only lose respect for her, but disgusted me as well.

That entire time in Dayton was tainted by poor choices, strife, and missteps by all involved.

“I wrote you a hundred letters I will never send. . .  Why won’t you answer me?”

While I was still living at the Cabin-Mansion and working at DVVH, I fervidly tried to recapture all I had lost, but it was too late–the damage was done.

I would get drunk almost every night (and day) and cry feverishly mourning all I had lost.

I started zealously typing all the events that were happening because I wanted to vent my pain, keep track of the unbelievable activities, and eventually write a book.

Kim was a wild card while I was there, after I left, and even in the present, running hot and cold, making me confused depressed so I wrote impassioned letters to her throughout the book.

I had many bad dreams of Mary and dreaded ever running into her in real life, so I wrote vehement letters to her as well–though they took on an angrier tone than the ones to Kim.

I started “Facebook-stalking” Kim and sent her passionate pleas to just tell me why she discontinued all communication–which maddingly, she never answered.

My “Cabin-Mansion” book is going to be one burning inscription after another, because it was such a traumatic and unbelievable experience.

“Just b/c I’m losing, doesn’t mean I’m lost. . .  Every river that I tried to cross, every door I ever tried was locked. . .  You might be a big fish in a little pond, doesn’t mean you’ve won.”

In her mid-life crises, Mary almost immediately retracted her support of my career, abjured her friendship, and recalled our entire relationship.

While I was living at the Cabin-Mansion, Mary rejected me entirely, and said she was no longer my mentor–it still makes me feel terrible and worthless even today (3 years later) as I write this.

It hurt a lot when my former mentor recanted her letters of recommendation on my behalf, and (I’m fairly certain) talked trash about me to everyone.

Worse, Mary felt the need to call the vet school I was applying to and abandon formally her former support of my acceptance, which was (of course) detrimental to my reputation.

At the end, Mary forswore her offer to provide me the fifth wheel in her yard as housing, as well as a job at her hospital.

“Painted ourselves in a corner. . .  But you could not interpret me and I could not interpret you. . .    . . .  After all that we’d been through, I could not see giving up. . .  And now we’re tumbling in a free-fall, no ones gonna go unscathed. . .”

Mary didn’t understand why I wasn’t the same person I had been before I came out to my parents and suffered my second failure from veterinary school, and I couldn’t forgive Mary for being in a mid-life crises and becoming undisciplined though her father had died days before, her niece had died a few months before, and her wife of thirteen years was becoming a full-on alcoholic.

Though I didn’t like Mary’s unrestrained, fairly open cheating on Kim, I thought she might regain her good senses–she didn’t gve me the same chance.

My heavy drinking didn’t help raise my morale, maintain Mary’s formerly high opinion of me, or minimize my already recklessbehavior.

Despite my own shortcomings, I still lost all respect for the way Mary treated people in her life, and especially her licentiouscheating.

Even at work, Mary became lewdly hostile towards me for no apparent (work-related) reason.

At the time, Mary was going through a mid-life crises, I was in my quarter-life crises, Kim was an alcoholic, and my parents were reacting to having a gay child–all of us displayed wanton behavior as a result.

Mary’s capricious values during that five month visit left me confused and conflicted.

“You’re gonna see soon that I’m not playin’, Start asking me the names I’m not sayin’, but I’m trying to be bigger than the bickering, bigger than the petty name calling. . .  Rumors, and labels, and categorization. . .

My parents knew I would no longer talk to them if they continued trying to control me, but simultaneously withholding emotional and financial support, but that didn’t stop them from their phony inquests about why I shut them out of my life.

Both my parents and Mary had ulterior motives in their quest to accuse me of being an alcoholic:  My parents had to show the community that they didn’t know my whereabouts because I had some sort of problem, and Mary had to justify her sudden horrid behavior towards me.

Soon Mary’s closest friends and her family would probe me about my drinking, my schedule, and why I wasn’t listening to anyone–I knew she was talking bad about me to everyone who would listen.

Mary became hateful towards me, because I stupidly made my investigation of her relationship with the hairdresser known, and she didn’t want me to have too much negative information on her.

I was so shattered about my life and the dysfunction going on around me, I became unable to concentrate, and I couldn’tstudy properly.

Everyone was getting their information secondhand–Mary refused to talk to me so she would glean things from Kim, my co-workers, or her friends who talked to me, and I cut my parents out of my life, so they inquired about me to everyone they came in contact with–it was a mess.

I had just about enough when Mary sent her mother and the hairdresser to research when my finals were so she could schedule the staff Christmas party on a day when I was stuck in Reno.

You can say what you want about me, keep talking while I walk away. . .  I’m taking the high road, going above you, this is the last time I’m gonna trust you. . .  All that bullshit you talk might work a lot, but it’s not gonna work today.

One of the biggest differences from my high school work experience which was pleasant, and the horrible times I went through in my post-college years, was Mary had become a nabob where she had been just starting out in those earlier years.

When I was living in the yard of the Cabin-Mansion, Mary was constantly pulling power plays on me to show me who was in charge, and to make me want to leave for good.

I ended up leaving Nevada, but not because the magnate, Mary forced me to–I had to go back to my apartment, and job at Noah’s Ark, and to keep my Missouri residency.

I realize Mary is only influential in her small hometown of Dayton, she’s just a big fish in a small pond, but it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the ramifications of being on her bad list.

I am currently angry at that potentate of Dayton, Mary, who still holds a grudge against me, because she knows as well as I do that my only real mistake was knowing too much about her personal life for her comfort.

Dayton may think Mary is the perfect family member, business owner, and healer she portrays herself to be, but I know the truth–she is no luminary, she’s just terrified the town will see the real her.

I think Mary was always spoiled, always had a bad temper, and always held grudges against perceived enemies and threats to her security, but I think without all her money she wouldn’t see herself as a sort of dignitary who could do no wrong in the community.

As frustrating as it is to know Mary is not just the highly motivated tycoon with upstanding morals that she wants people to know, I refuse to engage in a power struggle with her–I’ll just write a book about my experiences.

“Something happened from the very first time with you. . .  Their piercing sounds fill my ears, try and fill with me with doubt. . .  In this world of loneliness I see your face. . .  I don’t care what they say, I’m in love with you.”

I felt something powerful from the first time I met you–and from the first time I imbued upon alcohol.

When I came back to Nevada that August of 2007, all three of us were regularly charged with some sort of alcohol–it was a fun, care-free month.

I honestly tried to get myself back together when I went to Nevada, but the alcohol pervaded every aspect of the Cabin-Mansion with Kim drinking constantly, Mary drinking frequently, revolving guests, family around all the time, celebrations galore, and party after party.

Kim and alcohol were one and the same, and during my time at the Cabin-Mansion I loved both and permeated myself with them often.

Everyone involved was so sloppy that it was a freight train to disaster.

After the excitement of being there settled, I quickly realized there were many problems at the Cabin-Mansion including Kim’s drinking, but I stocked vodka in my fifth wheel so Kim would sneak out of Mary’s sight to wet her whistle, and as a consequence would chat with me for a little while.

I usually drank with Kim, but when she got a head start on me once and I saw with clear eyes how infused she was with drink I was actually afraid of both her drunkenness and how she drove home.

Despite the problem drinking (for both of us) I longed to moisten my lips with Kim. . .

It hurts my heart to see Kim’s present picture–the way her face is bloated and permanently dyed a ruddy hue.

“I can’t leave and I can’t stay. . .  Maybe I’m not your perfect kind, maybe I’m not what you had in mind. . .

Mary felt the need to issue many dictums including:  “I am no longer your mentor,” and “You are formally evicted,” which were implied, overly harsh, and unnecessary.

Though I saw things going sour almost immediately, I could not leave because I would lose enrollment money to UNR, so I had the adage, “things couldn’t get any worse,” and it proved incorrect.

Mary had the silent edict that I was not welcome in the Cabin-Mansion other than to use the bathroom, and then only during daylight hours and when no guests or company were present–this made life very difficult.

Mary also had the (not so silent) decree no one in her inner circle that was to remain on good terms with her could speak to me–it became unbearable being ostracized (for no good reason).

At first, I tried to remember that it was everyone else who was crazy and tried to live by the aphorism of keeping my head up and going about my business, but soon, the isolation and negativity got to me and affected me in a bad way.

In the end, I was completely depressed, my self esteem took a great hit, and I was very lonely–it was then my main apothegmwas to get out of there–by any means possible.

You with your silky words. . .  You with steel beliefs, that don’t match anything you do.  It was so much easier before you became you. . .  Now you don’t bring me anything but down. . .  Everything just crashes to the ground. . .  No more long and wasted nights. . .

While Mary was telling me to get my shit together, focus on school, and mend my relationship with my parents, she was falling apart in her mid life crises, cutting back her work schedule substantially, and cheating on her wife of thirteen years–wrapping my mind around the hypocracy caused me to suffer enervation that I could not stop.

I was a very languorous process trying to see Mary in a new light–and I still haven’t completely accepted it.

My biggest trigger for the debilitation called depression is finding out people (I trusted) are different than I originally thought.

As with Douche, finding out Mary was not the respectable, hard-working, loyal person I had thought she was brought on aweariness that was only relieved with alcohol.

When I lived in the Cabin-Mansion it seemed like I was always suffering from a tiredness, but unable to sleep–this was probably depression.

I wanted to prove that I could be a great student, and good worker, but the drinking caused a great listlessness, and I needed the alcohol to feel less anxious about the pervasive negativity infecting my living quarters, work environment, and everyone I ever came in contact with.

The lassitude lasted a full year after I moved away from the Cabin-Mansion–even despite my best efforts to get back on track–depression doesn’t just go away because you remove yourself from the environment which brought it on.

Cabin-Mansion + Vocab

27 Jan

Mary is so undecorated as a gay that the community was always trying to fix her up with eligible bachelors–despite the fact she was already married to a woman.

After I moved to Missouri I hardly ever heard from Mary except when she offered some stern warning not to be too “out” in college or suffer the consequences.

More than once, Mary painted a bleak picture of what could happen to known gays from not getting accepted to veterinary school, to not being able to own a business, to getting bashed–her words terrified me and kept me in the closet.

After I came out to Kim, Mary locked me in the bathroom and instead of consoling me about this austere, life-altering realization, asked me not to tell anyone about HER.

Once Mary sent an e-mail out-of-the-blue telling me of my parents conspiracy to give away my cat, Holly–they had put a “Free to a good home” poster at Dayton Valley Veterinary Hospital.

Of course I was angry and dismayed at my parents’ insurrection, but I had no way of getting the cat to Missouri to live with me–I was in the middle of a semester, had no money for a flight, couldn’t pay to have her shipped, and didn’t know anyone going from Nevada to Missouri.

At first Mary offered to help get Holly untangled from my parents’ sedition, by flying her to Kansas City when she came for a vet conference.

I guess the offer was fallacious, because then she acted as if I was asking for too much and like it was a terrible bother.

It was the easiest solution, and I was desperate so I tried to get Mary to bring Holly when she came–and learned the offer had been only illusory, when Mary became mean, saying I was being selfish towards Holly if I had her fly on a plane with Mary.

Mary’s spuriousness pissed me off, and I countered that attack with a “Never mind, don’t trouble yourself.”

Then she lectured me for my lack of propriety in copping an attitude, saying she didn’t have to be nice at all.

Except I only lost my decorum, because it was Mary who had suggested the plan in the first place!

Mary never liked it if I lost my modesty, got too comfortable with her, or questioned her authority.

Even when I came to live with her at the Cabin-Mansion, Mary never disabused herself for completely changing her mind about Holly.

She was still holding a grudge against me, refusing to correct any mistakes she had made.

I should have known after that the mentality I was working with, but I hadn’t undeceived myself about Kim or Mary at that time.
The other reason Mary contacted me at all in Missouri was to offer her dogmatic opinions on various subjects.

Despite telling me to get a job at Noah’s Ark to help my chances of getting into veterinary school, she became imperiousabout me quitting and finding employment at the vet school.

Mary would also write when her NASCAR driver won a race, saying she had the most peremptory pick and my driver was a loser–if I dared talk trash when MY driver won, Mary would promptly become belligerent.

The other reason Mary ever e-mailed me was to talk trash about someone I knew–she was masterful in judging others, and told me how Lana cheated her, my mom tried to give away my cat, how Shaun, her sister-in-law was a liability, and how Dayton was narrow-minded.

Mary’s correspondence was always abrupt and borderline rude, and though she sometimes wrote me she was always emotionally impregnable.

I think Mary was impervious to everyone, including her immediate family, her wife, and her inner circle–I have doubts she really opened up to anyone–I certainly never saw it.

The public really likes Mary, but behind closed doors she was quite acidulous about people.

She was so piquant about running into people that she parked behind the hospital where no one could see her, refused to stop at the store on her time off, and generally hid out when she wasn’t working or at a social function.

As for Kim, I only received one or two e-mails in the six years I lived in Missouri–both convoluted in spelling and grammar.

At the time, I didn’t realize it, but now I think she used intricate sentence structure because she was probably drunk when she wrote.

Her elaborate letters really only talked about sports or some other inane topics–nothing very substantial.

Emotionally Draining

19 Jan

When Kim was getting ready to leave the vet hospital to go to Missouri for Christmas, she was stolid towards me.  She had talked to me a couple of times that day–a brief comment about fixing the time-clock.  Maybe that pithy transaction between us was it. . .  Not knowing the logic for her laconic interactions with me, made me paranoid and depressed.

I saw her hug and fawn over Debi, happily reciprocate a hug from Diana, talk to Michelle, and she was just apathetic towards me.  It was very uncharacteristic for Kim to be so impassive to me.  Even when we had been under scrutiny in the past, Kim had never acted indifferent towards me, finding small ways to show she didn’t hate me.  She would give me the remnant of a knowing look, or a trace of a smile.  There were always subtle signs between us, that despite interference from my mom or Mary or both, we were still friends.  I knew, even if she couldn’t show it, Kim returned my affection.

That winter day, she remained terse, and I don’t even think she was going to say anything to me.  I could see no remains of our past kinship.  It broke my heart that she was so phlegmatic in regards to me.  When I approached her, she compensated me with a stiff hug and unemotionally and succinctly whispered, “This is probably the last time I’ll see you.”  At the time I hoped she meant that day, before she absconded to Missouri for Christmas, and before I fled the Cabin-Mansion, but in retrospect, that compact little comment carried a lot of weight–she meant forever.

I am still not certain why she was unconcerned about it like she was–I would miss her greatly.  It was a true statement for the long-term.  I have not seen her in person (and talked)  since my escape from the tribulations at the Cabin-Mansion.  Kim even decamped from my Facebook friendship with her.  I had always hoped to requite our close friendship, but all that have been left are vestiges of conversation, drunk calls to discuss relics of the past.

The Hairdresser

16 Jan

Depending on the audience, Kathy’s plastic personality could be molded–she was a moral, all-for-the-children type to my mom, church-going, craft-maker to Del, and heavy drinking good-time girl to Kim and Mary.  I hadn’t realized in all the 16 years that she cut my mom’s and my own hair that she was so wily and phony.  My mom stopped getting her hair cut with Kathy, but I did not know it was because she thought the hairdresser was affected–I chalked it up to more of my mom’s craziness.  I mean, my mom stopped dying her heir too!  And when I left Nevada for Missouri, all of the Greens had been hanging out with Lana, Kim, and Mary.  It didn’t seem abnormal or put-on that Kathy was a large part of Mary’s life when I returned to Nevada years later.

As I had done the entire time I lived in Nevada, I called Kathy when my hair needed a trim.  It was at a point when Mary and I were both very busy and not communicating much.  I chalked the dearth of communication between us up to two overly full schedules.  The location of the beauty shop had moved from the strip mall outside of Dayton’s first casino across the street from the strip-mall the veterinary hospital had been in to Carson City.  The name, still had Prophecy in it, but it was now the Shear Prophecy.  Little did I know with the change of location everything else was different too.  I was the first appointment of the day (9 AM?) on a Wednesday.  I worked it into my busy schedule by skipping my first class or two in Reno.

I noticed right away how thin Kathy had gotten.  This surprised me because she had been getting chubbier when I left Nevada a couple of years prior, AND usually as people age they get a little thicker.  I saw right away not only was the hairdresser thinner, but she was dressing younger.  She wore fitted jeans and probably the same type of vest Mary favors.  Even her walk seemed more artificial.  Her hair was blonder than I remember, and maybe a little taller oo-though she had never lacked on curl or body.  As Kathy washed my hair, she didn’t talk about what her three kids were up to, school, or the community of Dayton as she used to.  She insincerely name-dropped how she knew so-an-so, cut the Carson sheriff’s wife’s hair (at their house), and went on and on about her apartment in Carson City.  It was like a new person was cutting my hair!  No trace of the avid-reading, church-camp-attending mother that used to embody her at all.

As Kathy peered into my face, trying to see if my bangs were trimmed in a straight line, I could smell remnants of cigarette smoke and minty gum.  I had never know her to smoke, and was surprised at this too.  She was so phony at this point I did not to what to believe anymore.  Most strangly, during my hair cut, Kathy’s cell phone rang and she (rudely) answered it, saying, “Yes, I’m cutting her hair now.”  Not that I cared, but I knew someone who knew me, and that knew the fact I had a hair appointment was the one who called.  This suspician was confirmed when Kathy hung up and pretentiously announced Mary had called her.  While they were both supposed to be in the middle of a work day.  This struck me as weird.  Why would Mary call Kathy when they were both at work?  Also, I knew they must have talked previously about the fact I was getting my hair cut that day. . .

I was unsettled to say the least, after my trim, but worst of all was what happened upon check out.  Firstly, the price of a hair cut had gone up considerably since I had last seen Kathy.  I did not have enough cash on hand even though I had stopped by the ATM immediately before my hair cut.  I always carry my debit card so it wasn’t that big of a deal.  Except, Kathy read out the price, I handed her my card and she rang it for that exact amount.  When I got the receipt slip to sign–there was no tip-line.  I was horrified.  What kind of debit card reader, especially at a service place, doesn’t include a space for a tip?!  I stared at the slip trying to figure out a way to tip, the just gave up and told the hairdresser I hadn’t realized I needed her to run the card for the price plus my tip.  I wanted her to run the card again to include gratuity.  Anxious to get my out of there (to resume a phone call by chance?) Kathy said not to worry about it, “This one’s on me.”  I felt terrible, and embarrassed, and didn’t want to feel like I owed her anything.  But sheepishly left without tipping.

While I was gone Kathy had separated from her husband, Doug, but didn’t divorce him, giving him hope and leaving the door open so he could still lavish her with gifts, money, and his insurance benefits.  What I was slow to understand when I came back was that the gestation of Mary and Kathy’s relationship went from neighboring business owners, to cheating lovers in just three or four years.  After some contemplation, it made sense that Kathy had yoked herself to Mary.  I supposed Kathy had always been fulsome and insincere in her marriage to Doug because his family came from money and she needed capital to own her hairdressing business.  Maybe the entire reason the hairdresser married Doug was to use his family’s money to attain her dream.  After Doug’s family sold the Dayton Depot and adjoining strip mall causing Kathy lost her business, I think she became close to Mary to aggrandize her social status, and her pocketbook.  The hairdresser was excessive in her relationship with Mary, suddenly pushing into the center of Mary’s tight inner circle.

Kathy and Mary began to emulate one another:  Both had the same tall, overly blond hair, thin waistline, high-water slacks, manner of speech, and selfishness.  Artificial blond hair-dos to match their affected personalities–it was a match made for trouble.  Kathy was a pretentious social-climber who loved the bonhomie of the Cabin-Mansion, and made a huge effort to schmooze the most important people.  Kathy, I quickly found out, was not the wholesome small town hairdresser I thought she was when I was growing up, she was no neophyte at manipulating people to get what she wanted.  She was sickly sweet when she wanted something-whether that something was money, insurance benefits, or information.

I found Kathy’s transformation (or secret personalty) noisome and repulsive.  I openly glowered at Kathy when she had the nerve to come to Kim’s birthday party, and allowed (drunk) Kim to sit beside her on the bench with her arm draped over her shoulders.  Kathy must have felt awkward or ashamed at the birthday party, because she was not cloying as usual, but stayed outside, was the most reticent I’d ever seen her, and left early.

Cabin-Mansion + pics + Vocab

13 Jan

I needed to temper the bad situation that was growing larger and larger and I knew I could not win any battles against my historically martinet and erudite mother, so my best defense was to cut communication with my parents completely.  I did not want to deal with my learned mother”s maudlin tears and disingenuous pleas to see me, when I knew she was only trying to control me and save face in Dayton.  Wise Dr. Minor was a sacrosanct figure in the valley, our scholarly small town hero who was nice enough to come back and better the lives of everyone.  I thought she could help ease my burden the way she mollified the town with her mere scholastic presence.

My school career and long-term aspirations were held in abeyance until I could get accepted into veterinary school, stalling my life and making me panic.  When I was in high school, and not so jaded by life, Mary’s stories and living example of success kindled confidence in me that I could reach my dreams if only I tried, and now I was beginning to realize it might take more than just bookish desire and persistence to reach my ultimate goal.  I went to Nevada in hopes of mitigating the situation.  I arrived in Nevada at the acme of Mary’s grief over her very recently deceased father–the condolence flowers still adorned the Cabin-Mansion.  Maybe Mary invited me to assuage her pain of losing her father.  It’s possible I was meant to take Brenna’s place, or soften the loss of her 17 year old niece, at least. . .

I was stricken by how Mary’s current lavish financial situation was quite different as well since she was at the zeneith of her veterinary career rather than trying to scratch and claw her way to success as she had been during my high school days.  Also upon my return, I noted Mary and Kathy had analogous hair cuts:  Tall, flouncy curls on top of the head, which shone an unnaturally light blond considering their generous ages.  Almost a month after I arrived at the Cabin-Mansion I noticed a certain dissonance in Kim and Mary’s relationship, but could not place it, because I had never been let entirely into their personal lives before.  Wanting to get my priorities straight, I would plan to go home and study every night, but when I got there found myself satiated with food, liberal amounts of alcohol, and fun.  The constant bonomy at the Cabin-Mansion was contrary to any academic mindset, and the atmosphere lured me further from my studious endeavors and closer to the bottle.  The stentorian din of Kim’s television, which had been purchased with gambling winnings, made Mary crazy and moody.  Despite claims that she was more laid-back in her middle age, I quickly discovered Mary was far more mercurial than I remembered, using her significant brainpower to manipulate others rather than to help them.

I had never realized my long-time hairdresser was a mendacious snake who constantly gossiped and permissively manipulated everyone around her.  In an affected manner, the hairdresser told me how she had absolutely no time after caring for three houses (hers, her ex-husband’s, and her daughter’s) and her business so she would really appreciate it if I would alleviate some of her stress and take her place house-sitting for her best friend over the next week.  My perception of Kathy and Mary had changed from respectable adults, savvy business-women, loyal family-members and in Mary’s case, mentor, to meretricious and untrustworthy women both going through a pathetic mid-life-crises.

Though Mary had been adamant about how my relationship with my parents was none of her business, and how she would progressively stay out of it, she preceded to castigate me in length about her generous disappointment over it when I summoned up enough courage (and drank enough red wine) to ask her directly if she wanted me to move.  I was certain Mary’s horrible treatment of me was only meant to forestall any confessions of her private behavior to her admirers–I did nothing wrong (that she knew about).  Mary set out to annihilate and repudiate my character within her own opinion, the town of Dayton, and the veterinary community at large–she meant war.  It felt like there were a confluence of people turning against me, which only served to make me want to drink more to assuage my hurt feelings.

Living in the Cabin-Mansion was repressive because not only did Mary outlaw any drunken, bathetic scenes, she allowed no emotional responses in her presence.  My close relationship with the tolerant, Kim was one of the only things that extenuated the increasingly distressing situation, even though bounteous amounts of alcohol were almost always proximate when we were together.  After several drunken incidents, association with an open lesbian, and a lot of malicious talk from my parents, my reputation quickly became marred in the tiny, narrow-minded town.  Dayton’s quixotic perceptions of Mary caused her and her inner circle great pride. . .  And horrible feelings of inadequacy–it was impossible to live up to such high standards.  I felt my latitudinarian drinking was an ephemeral phase and right of passage, and did not take it seriously when people (with ulterior motives) accused me of being an alcoholic.  Anyone would have trouble maintaining two financial situations in two different states while working part-time and attending school full-time in a city an hour away, but having undergrad loan sharks pestering me at all hours and my landlord calling for missing rent checks made me feel even more like a mendicant and loser.  After a few months, a plethora of accusations, and some real consequences of drinking, I began to realize munificent alcohol was making me more capricious than ever before, and the sloppy behavior might not be exclusively due to Mary’s constant animosity towards me.

To palliate my growing depression and irritableness, I just had to keep reminding myself that my stay in Nevada  was evanescent and I would be going back to my cozy apartment and familiar job in Missouri soon.   Both Kim and my father tried to palliate the situation without really standing up to their ornery wives, and it made me angry and cantankerous that though the two loved me, and knew I was being unfairly victimized, they refused to take any real action.Living in the Cabin-Mansion made me constantly lament for the happy past which had been nothing like the current dysfunctional situation.  Irascible Mary liked me better as a teenager, because she saw potential in me, and I was a completely malleable candidate for her inner circle who she could groom however she saw fit.  As a whole, 2007 was so volatile because it was an important juncture in many aspects of my life, and that terrified me.

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Cabin-Mansion + vocab

2 Jan

At first, I thought the fusty Cabin-Mansion was really fancy with the loft, sky light, huge television, bar, and pool table on the inside and top-of-the-line spa, wrap-around deck, outside fireplace, and lovely view outside, but as I began to SEE the people in the atmosphere, the whole place became austere to me.  Where I had been anxious to get back to Dayton during those first days at school, I soon began to dread the sight of the bleak landscape that was the vintage Cabin-Mansion.  After I learned everyone was crazy, living there seemed grim and cold.  Even the vet hospital, which I had always loved, became a more harsh place to spend time.  Mary’s constant dour expressions towards me, especially, made it all the harder to be there.  The desert was still beautiful, but after I became depressed the view took a harder, more desolate tone.  Then, the weather became severe and made the Cabin-Mansion, and Dayton, and Reno just awful places to live and work.

I’m not certain what I would do if Mary tried to contact me to disabuse all the damage that was done in 2007.  I cannot imagine Mary would ever try to set right her wrongs, anyhow.  Kim attempted in a feeble way to make Mary free of errors that were made by apologizing on her behalf–it’s not the same.  The sketchy behavior will never be corrected–I’m certain Mary will always blame me and exculpate herself from any blame.  Dayton will never be undeceived by Mary’s ruse–even if I do get my tell-all book published.  No matter how sorry Kim is, Mary’s behavior towards me was not innocuous.  My self-worth was deeply injured after I left the Cabin-Mansion–the constant games were hardly insipid.  My parents were not harmless to my well-being at that time in my life either–they damaged me a lot too.  Kim’s drinking was also not as benign as everyone in the inner circle tried to portray–she is going to probably die from her alcoholism.

Mary’s cheating was not inoffensive, though it didn’t directly affect me–I was crushed by her lack of morals.  After I witnessed Mary head-butting Kim in a drunken brawl, all that obsolete propriety that had been securely in place for the duration of our relationship was forgotten.  Mary’s decorum towards me was aloof at best and downright mean at worst.  I was surprised at the lack of appropriateness in Mary, and didn’t expect such actions from someone turning 40 (outdated).  Yes, maybe I was acting stupid, but a little guidance, or at the very least decency, could have gone a long way to improve things, rather than the horribleness that only made everything worse.

Mary’s last straw was when I impeded upon her modesty when I refused to look away and let her discretely get out of her hot tub.  Mary, Kathy, and Debi among others I’m sure, formed a prehistoric cabal eager to knock me down and get me out of Dayton.  Mary acted as if she was in the mob–very secretive and hard-core.  Mary’s clan in Dayton is mostly concerned about portraying a respectable image to the community, while living dirty.  This in-group was all cheating, drinking, and generally carousing around when they were stale enough to know better.

It seems the gays always form a camp that is opposed to Republicans and church-goers.  I could never be involved in acoterie because I am an independent free-thinker.  When I first went to Nevada, I was fairly adept at remaining incapable of being affected by my crazy, superannuated parents–but as my morality began to weaken so did my resolve to keep them out of my life.  Mary thought this new version of Laurel was impossible to penetrate, but I felt I had good reason to be stubborn with my parents–I had to maintain certain boundaries for our relationship to grow and to gain my independence from them.
I was resistant to my parents at that time because they had become emotionally distant, financially barren, and were trying to control me as they had always done in the past.  Mary used this as an excuse to get me out of her (sketchy) personal business, and became emotionally impregnable towards me as a way of turning the tables.  I tried to be impervious to the atmosphere at the Cabin-Mansion, but failed on all fronts:  I drank too much just like them, was saturated in negativity, self-loathing, and apathy just like I had criticized in them, and I went back to Missouri broken.

Both Mary and my mom have always been dictatorial in their opinions.  Trying to make my own decisions didn’t work as long as those two were so domineering a force in my life.  I thought it was ironic that Mary didn’t like my mom for acting soauthoritarian when Mary herself was also magisterial over her inner circle, family, and employees.  Mary kept saying, “It’s none of my business, I’m not getting involved” regarding the deteriorating situation with my parents–yet she becameimperious about demanding me to talk to them.  When I didn’t follow Mary’s bossy dictum, she cut off communication with me.  This also coincided with my masterful plan of placing a sock in the guest bed to see if the (superseded) hairdresser was sleeping in it, or in Mary and Kim’s bed, which proved very, very dumb of me.  As soon as Mary realized I wasn’t stupid and I had seen her cheating, she became adamant about getting me away from her (and Kim) even going as far as toperemptorily ban everyone on her good side from speaking to me.  She was dictatorial in how others were allowed to interact with me–everyone was afraid to be seen talking to me, let alone hanging out with me.  Her doctrinaire hold over everybody amazed me, especially since they had only seen the good in me and didn’t know what I had done wrong.  Soon myoverbearing mother didn’t seem so bad compared to Mary’s mob tactics to destroy me.

Doggy Popsicles (Not for the Faint of Heart) [11-2-07]

2 Jan

If you are squeamish in any way or can’t stand to hear about dead animals, do your self a favor and don’t read this one.  I don’t mean to sound cold (no pun intended—you’ll understand this in a second) but death is a fact of life.  I don’t like it any better than you do, but I have learned you can’t let it get to you—especially if you’re in a hospital setting. Well, enough with the disclaimer—onto the blog!

I have worked at vet hospitals in one capacity or another since I was in 5th grade.  Today I had the worst job EVER.  I have cleaned plenty of shit (literal shit), helped shave and clean animal with maggots in their orifices, and helped the vet saw off a dead dog’s head to test if it dies of rabies.  This was worse.

The Co-Fran guy that takes our dead animals is dumb or lazy—or both.  After animals get euthanized or are brought in deceased, they go in a freezer.  Then, a guy with a big tuck is supposed to haul off all the animals when the freezer gets full.  This is Co-Fran’s job. They cremate the pets, etc. . .  for us.  Sounds easy right?  Just call a company and vah-lah!  Frozen animal mess to clean boxed ashes, no problem or hassle for us.  Not so much in a small town.  Our pick-up guy always struggles.  Every time he comes, he says he can’t take the animals at all or he can only take a few because they are stuck in the freezer.  He will ask that we unplug the freezer over the weekend, so he can collect the bodies later.  As you know, defrosting meat is a problem—when it’s someone’s pet it’s a HUGE problem.  We do not want to unplug the freezer and let these dogs and cats start to thaw. . .  It’s a bad time to say the least.  So then, the co-fran guy will ask for a crow bar or some such thing.  First of all, it’s kinda grotesque to pry frozen dogs out of a freezer using a crow bar, secondly, we are a vet hospital not an auto-mechanic shop.  We don’t keep tools like that around.

These requests from the co-fran guy happen every time we call for a pick-up.

Today was no different.  Co-fran didn’t take ANY of the animals out of the full freezer. Said they were stuck.  Unfortunately, we had two euthanasias coming in this afternoon. Even more unfortunate was the fact, they were both large dogs.  We had no place to put them.  I was asked to empty the freezer and try to rearrange the frozen animals in a way that made more room.  I’ll spare you the gory details (as if you haven’t heard enough already) and just let you use your imagination.  The huge dogs were frozen solid in weird positions, heavy like a mofo, and not getting any smaller no matter what I did.

We were in trouble.  We had two more bodies coming, and no where to put them.  It was decided that we would have to put one body in isolation with the AC on super-high while the newly-dead dog froze.  Then, the kennel boy would have to rotate a new frozen dead dog out to isolation to allow the thawed animal to refreeze.  It was not going to be an optimal situation.  What else could we do though???  This was one time I was really glad NOT to be on kennel duty during the weekend!

Luckily, neither of the euthansias showed up at the end of the day.  This also meant, I had to go back and take all the dogs out of the freezer to fit the dog in isolation back in.  I scraped the crap out of the outside of my pinky on a frozen animal.  It bled for a long time and now it is starting to bruise.  Hurts like crazy!  So that was the most amazing job I have ever had to do, I think *sarcasm*

 

A Cabin-Mansion Christmas + vocab

31 Dec

I had only ever wanted to gain Kim and Mary’s approval the entire time I knew them.  At 24 years old, I still exalted Mary’s veterinary skill and larger than life nabob style, and extolled Kim’s social ethics–she was such a witty person!  In my mind, they were both seraphic–I guess I was a little naive back then.  I didn’t fully realize the consequences of how oblique Mary was in her personal life.  I  was forever eager to please Mary–even when she was unrealistically demanding and overly dictatorial. When I worked for them in high school,compliments were difficult to come by, but I did receive them sometimes.  Back then, I did my best to maintain probity.

During my nomadic journey to Missouri for college, I had hardly heard from them at all, but still fought to please them, by e-mailing my good grades to Mary.

After my second rejection from veterinary school, my parents stopped praising me entirely.  It was very strange, because all my life my parents and I had even equal devotion to my vet school dream.  Their irregular behavior hurt and confused me to the core.  So I wasn’t angelic–I still had my integrity, but my parents found that difficult to believe.  A definite turbulencebetween my parents and me had already started when I told them I was gay just 8 months prior to that.  After their initialinquiry asking, among other ignorant questions, if I had AIDS, my parents grew hesitant towards me and didn’t mention my sexuality at all.  They said they were fine with it, and still loved me but they deviously showed otherwise in their actions towards me.

My parents started to look more wizened in appearance–my dad growing a grey beard and my mom letting her hair go un-dyed for the first time ever.  They also started acting more desiccated, and erratic, and became active in a church group.  This church was full of wrinkled and gnarled old people and was very conservative in their beliefs–my peremptory parents even mailed me anti gay marriage literature they got from the church.  If their church was so cherubic, why were they spreading hatred?

In that same span of time, my dad had retired and started remembering times when he was sexually assaulted in the Navy, causing even more turmoil within our family.  I think my dad thought he made me gay and my mom secretly blamed me for my father’s depression–either way, all three of us had an agitated state of mind.  I had never experienced any real aversionfrom my domineering parents before that–they had always loved me and been proud of me.  This anomaly made me devisted me because they had always supported my dream, and now they had retracted all adulation.  The tide had turned in such a way that I felt lost and archaism when I thought about it.  I felt they were toxic to my psyche and tried intensely to minimize my interaction with them to reduce they pain they were causing me.

At the same time, I was tired of being completely complaint to my bossy mom’s every decision, so I was trying to take a stand for my own independence.  I figured if they felt enough animosity towards me to take me off their health insurance early, not offer to sell me their old car, and to retract support of my dream–why should I still do whatever they asked of me?  My gullible nature was gone, and I wanted to establish some healthy boundaries.  They found this abnormal behavior from me distressing, and our relationship had become strained and foul-smelling.

Because some of the best times of my life had been at Dayton Valley Veterinary Hospital, I passionately believed going back could fix things for me.  After speaking with Mary a few times over the phone, I realized she was just as zealous for me to go there as I was.  In my quest for affordable housing, I learned my parents would not allow any of my pets to live in their house, even though they knew I could not just abandon my three animals.  Mary had such enthusiasm for the idea that she had gone and purchased a fifth wheel to put in their yard so I would have some place to stay.  A rural setting was just what I needed–it sounded absolutely heavenly to my tortured mind!

I went to Nevada, that August searching for some commendation–what I found was the farthest thing from it.  Everything wasirregular which was too bad because my vagrant moving habits of that time were just a way to try to find peace and happiness.  When I arrived I noticed an errant vicissitude had taken place, but I didn’t know how sinister a change it was.  Mostly, it seemed Mary feared turning 40 and getting withered.  The incongruity of what things had been like in the past, what I had expected, and what was transpiring were difficult to overlook.  It was all the harder, because I was on the outs with my formerly supportive parents, so I felt like I suddenly lacked virtue that I had been known for–was all of this my fault?

The Cabin-Mansion had become an inhospitable, barren landscape of inimical feelings, long before Christmas.  The rusticcabin started looking more ominous than welcoming–it was the farthest thing from a seraphic environment.  After I heard Mary and Kim fervidly arguing and saw the authoritarian Mary head-butt Kim, Mary confessed to me that Kim hadn’t even known I was coming to town.  After I figured out about the fighting and the cheating (and my peripatetic and imbued walk home), Mary had a lot ofhostility toward me.  She never clearly stated that she was angry with me or why–instead avoiding me evasively most of the same.  Of course Mary never said she hated me–she just harangued me about my relationship with my parents–though I remember a ton of times when she was mad at her family, or at the very least distrustful toward her family.

One night after she had a few beers, she invited me to the hot tub with her and probed me about my logic for ignoring my parents before telling me how she had a harsh (lesbian) volleyball coach who vituperated her “to get her shit together.”  It was Mary’s nicer way of reproaching ME to get my shit together.  I suppose her aberrant behavior and hostility toward her own family was more indirect and therefore more acceptable than my blatant refusal to speak to my parents.  I couldn’t understand how Mary could give me fulminations about my parents when she herself despised my mom, she talked trash about her sister-in-law constantly, and she had contempt for her “God-sister.”

Not only was there no kudos given to me at all–even when I worked really hard at the veterinary hospital–I was constantly berated and made to feel like an unwanted failure.  Every day was a new tirade about details I had messed up on the job.  Mary hardly ever geared her diatribes to anyone else at work–even though they made plenty of mistakes too.  Even when I learned quickly and improved my work skills, Mary found reason so share invectives with me.  I had grown tired of all the games and abhorrence towards me and had a big feeling of lassitude.  My energy had dwindled substantially since August when I had arrived.

I came to regret my itinerant move back to Dayton–it had not worked out as I had hoped.  The constant whirlpool of trouble had not ceased since things went awry the month after I got there–it was too much to bare.  Everyone at work could tell the magnate Maryfervently repelled me, but they couldn’t understand what had happened.  Debi told me that Kim and Mary had given me muchapprobation before I came back to town.  Mary divergently went from talking me up and loving me to showing repugnance at the mere mention of my name.  Debi said that Kim and Mary had told everyone how they loved me and were so excited to have me working for them again–which is why is was so strange to everyone when Mary zealously hated me.  I was almost certain powerful Mary was having obloquy about me with at least her inner circle, and probably the community at large.  No one outside the Cabin-Mansion could possibly understand the origin of the maelstrom, because everything was always so secretive.  Ths was nothing new–Mary had been misleading about her personal life for as long as I had known her.

Influential Mary had become more erratic and hateful towards me, even going so far as to follow me to my kennel duty one weekend.  I think she wanted to catch me doing something wrong or inimical so she could fire me and get me out of her hospital–I didn’t give her any ammunition.  She passionately wanted me out of her place of work, her yard, and most of all, her (and Kim’s) life.  The whole ordeal was draining, and each attack, drained my vitality to the point that I hardly cared about anything.  My living situation was unsettled, but I couldn’t just up and leave either.

My boss was so antagonistic towards me that she had tried to schedule the holiday work party on a day when I couldn’t be there.  This was one of many attempts to show who had the most power–I already knew she did.  It was very hurtful that Mary and I were at such odds that she was trying to keep me away.  I was equally intense about the fact I deserved to be at work functions–I worked just as hard as I ever had, and everyone liked me.

She sent her slightly less unfriendly minions the hairdresser and her atrophied mother to quiz me about my finals schedule so she could make the party land on a day I was stuck an hour away in Reno.  Of course they questioned me without hesitation, because they were obsequious to Mary.  The most maddening part of the story is the town and Mary’s inner circle alike are so subservient to her that a person didn’t necessarily need to screw up–Mary just had to indicate they had disappointed her and it was enough for everyone to dislike them.  So the differential pair felt no qualms in participating in my exile.  I should have known that they would show no uprightness.  Both of them asked about my life and tangentially arrived at the subject of school so that I thought they were making party conversation.  When they probed me about my finals week, I should have known they were not trying to chat with me, they were on a mission, but I stupidly shared the details of my academic life.  I was too trusting of these known enemies, and their “research” and I almost suffered the consequences for it.  My ardor about the injustice was displayed for all to see when I wrote “There are no accidents” (a favorite phrase of Mary’s) beside the party notation on the calender at work.  I don’t know what made Mary change her mind about excluding me, whether she felt guilt, saw my devotion to her practice, or if someone had talked her out of it–but she made it on a Saturday when I could go.

Then, the Saturday of the staff party approached, and the decision to commend our good clients by inviting them to get their pet’s pictures taken with Santa was approved.  I went to bed very excited for a change of pace to my dreary existence, if Mary refused to praise me or even act decently maybe the community would exalt or make me feel welcome in the morning.  Both Kim and Mary suffered some enervation, because the day of the party I was so excited for all of the events that I dreamed my alarm clock went off and only when I went inside to shower, waking everyone up, did I realize it was four in the morning.  To my surprise, no matter what I did at the house, Mary didn’t jeremiad me, but I was always hesitant to do anything she might dislike for fear of getting kicked out on short notice.

At work that morning Mary let her animus toward me show.  There was no malediction, but she completely ignored me, and when she liked music I brought (unbeknown to her) she not only refused to applaud my efforts, she quickly hid her excitement so I wouldn’t see she enjoyed it.  I was embarrassed that Mary made no secret that ahe had an aversion to me–even in front of the public.  So everyone thought I had broken my rectitude even though I had not–especially at work.

I wanted my family to be a part of the Christmas celebration even though Mary loathed both my mom and me.  Everyone’s families were invited to the staff party except for mine, it was made clear, and I was too weary to argue.  There was noapplause when I called my dad to invite him to the pet photos, rather Mary seemed annoyed to see my family participating, and wanted to be sure I didn’t invite them to the staff party as well.  Mary made snide comments about Anja biting Santa when it was our turn to be photographed–just to get her repugnance across to everyone.

No languor was evident in Kim, Mary, or me that morning at work when we had pet Christmas pictures with Santa, despite our early morning wake up.  Instead of the usual acclaim and praise for being such a  hard worker–Mary disregarded me all-together and made me feel like an outsider at the staff/community event.  It was like an anachronisticnightmare–I still couldn’t believe I was on the receiving end of all this malice.  I realized that I was barely invited to the party that afternoon and it made me feel fatigued to even imagine my mom and Mary in the same room.  If Mary had shown that much antipathy towards me at the work pictures with Santa in front of the community–I knew her revulsion was going to be worse at a staff party at her house and with alcohol involved.

That afternoon, alone in my fifth wheel, the pastoral view of the Minor Ranch looked only lonely and desolate to me.  The afternoon of the party, I was so nervous to see the recalcitrant Mary that I began drinking straight jager to overcome my severe anxiety.  I imbued while hand-drawing a Christmas card for my Secret Santa and the hosts of the party.  I infused the alcohol in my bloodstream from the time I got off work that morning to the time I had to go back for kennel duty, and then after that as well.  The putrid liquid did something to calm my nerves, but I was still scared about going to the party.  Alcohol always made me something of a raconteur so I just kept drinking.  Even though I knew drinking would be deleterious to my image, I was so panicked about having an issue with Mary that I had to cope.

Still my enthusiasm for the party could not be curbed, I bought Mary her favorite chocolate covered cherries and Kim a bottle of Bailey’s.  Maybe if I got them things they liked they would commend me for it.  I just knew she would be adverse to getting along or at least putting on a front and ignore me entirely or make me an outcast like she did on Kim’s birthday.  I hoped for the best, and absurdly thought I could just avoid Mary–in her own house, at a party for her business. . .  People came to the house early to help set up, and ludicrously Mary had Kim call me during my afternoon kennel duty to bring the wine from the clinic even though Mary had no qualms about her repulsion of me.  It was a slanted gesture, and I should have not participated–but I did.  It would have made sense for me to come to the party early, but when I brought the wine inside the Cabin-Mansion, Mary was dissident and unwelcoming towards me–giving me no praise for helping them.  She had a group of her inner circle around her and she was telling some anecdote that everyone was enjoying–so I knew it was just me.  Remembering the good times when I was always the one called upon to help Kim and Mary set up for parties was injuriousto my psyche.   I think this exchange made me nervously moisten my palate with some brandy with ardor before I went in to the party.

The very first thing anyone said to me as I entered the party was, “Come have some wine with me” (Kim, of course) andridiculously, I accepted the offer, permeating my system with alcohol.  I wasn’t the only one drinking–alcohol pervaded the party, most of the guests were drinking–it was Christmas after all and the atmosphere was one of levity.  The party hardly remains in my mind at all,–I do remember feeling nervous and sneaking out to my fifth wheel to take hasty gulps of jager and brandy(on top of the wine I was drinking inside the Cabin-Mansion) several times, then being wasted as a result.  My systemimpregnated with a medley of different alcoholic beverages, my senses began to dull, as well as my inhibitions and memory.  I may have eaten a modest amount of food, but maybe I didn’t like it, because I remember mostly infusing my glass with my wine during dinner.  I also took a few pictures of the party guests, one of them featuring me looking ironically coherent and composed (and happy) instead of the freight I actually had inside.  I remember participating in some sort of team card game, then getting board and charging on when it wasn’t my turn.

It seemed preposterous that I got drunk enough to have any sort of conversation with Mary, and that she actually engaged in pleasant chatter with me–but it happened.  Or so I heard.  The only thing I remember was going to the kitchen to get a slice of cheesecake, which was hailed as very tasty, and seeing her standing by the desserts.  It was too obvious to turn back so I went to get the cheesecake anyway, and I think she politely loaded a slice on my plate (I have no idea why) and said something (I have no idea what) to start a conversation.  The only other thing I can remember about our chat was still seeking her applause and indicating the gifts I had brought–I do not know what her reaction was.  The mutability of her character is difficult to believe to this day–why did we chat at a party when she hated me?  I have no idea why Mary wouldn’t show enmitytowards me–especially since I was black-out-drunk at the time.  Maybe she was also buzzed so her judgement was abated.  It’s possible she could tell I was blacked-out and thought she would relent since I wouldn’t remember any hostility anyway.  Now I hate myself for being so drunk that I can’t remember my conversation with Mary at all.  I could have had a tirade about the way she had been mistreating me, but I can’t remember one way or the other.  It was completely out of place in time as well–how could someone who hated me so completely talk nicely to me while I was drunk?

My force all but drained with all the stress, strife, and alcohol, and I started to fall apart.  My funky outburst caused quite a scene at the work Christmas party.  I had been excited to meet friends in Reno after the work Christmas party, but my composure waned.  I called my friend to lapse on our plans by telling her I had a few drinks and couldn’t possible drive the hour in the new snow.  This embarrassed me and disappointed me on top of my drunkenness and impending sickness and my mask of competence subsided entirely.  I sat on the bathroom floor and cried with fervency.  I couldn’t accept theinconsistency in what Mary said and how she acted anymore–this was a person I used to glorify. . .

My tiredness of the bad situation at the Cabin-Mansion was surfacing at the most inappropriate time possible.  My inhibitions had slackened so much that I used the phone still in my hand to text the only person I could think of–Kim.  The unrestrainedtears flowed and I was sprawled on the bathroom tile moaning and whining.  The severity of my black-out was so complete that I have no clue what I wrote to her, and whether it was appropriate or not.  The degree of my drunk depression was so high, that I also don’t know what Kim said when she opened the door, what I responded, or who else heard.  My ability to walk had waned with my drinking and I was unable to stabilize myself, so I remember unknown people supporting me by the arms and practically carrying me out of the Cabin-Mansion.  My enuberated sniveling must have looked so silly to every one of my co-workers and their families.  To them, my morality was completely gone, but ironically it was the stress of fighting against that perception that had made me drink in the first place.

Kim had fire in her voice when she whispered to the husbands to get me out of the house before Mary saw me in my drunken, sloppy state.  I don’t remember what was going on in the room, because I wasn’t glancing around–I was closing my eyes and covering my face with my hands out of deep embarrassment.  Kim didn’t want to hear Mary’s rantings anymore, and she knew this would cause more of a Charybdis then there already was.  That, and Kim was overly submissive to Mary and therefore scared of her reaction to my drunkenness.  My vim was nowhere to be found as the men carried me across the yard, over the ice, to my fifth wheel.  They (I can’t even remember who it was, only that people supported me under the arms and a group came outside to watch) had to take a convoluted path across the yard because the ice was so slick.  I imagine my fifth wheel smelled like rank alcohol and stinky cat box when the spouses of my coworkers piled me in for the night.

I wish this was the end of the story, but no I did not chose to correct my wrongdoing by going to sleep.  Unfortunately that wasn’t the end of my undisciplined episode–I am told I went back into the Cabin-Mansion (presumably to go to the bathroom, but maybe I wasn’t ready to leave the party, I don’t know) and they had to carry me out to my fifth wheel a second time.  The complete aberration from my high school days should have been a big tip-off to people who knew me that something was terribly wrong, but it was just the event that made Mary’s hostility toward me click with everyone outside of the situation.  Theeddy of trouble was getting bigger and bigger, and it seemed I was unable to free myself from error.

I woke up bright and early early that Sunday, with wan face, splitting headache, and a sick belly–I had to get to kennel duty.  The lights were on in my fifth wheel, curtains open, and I was surprised to see I had taken off my pants to go to sleep–Ipeevishly wondered if the guests at the party had seen me in just my panties.  I dressed in my sweats and realized in my leprous exit I had forgotten my purse in the Cabin-Mansion the night before.  I irritably noticed that Debi’s family had stayed in their fifth wheel in the yard, and one of the older guests and her dog had spent the night–getting my purse without waking the whole place was going to be a hassle.  Like the castaway I was, I tried to sneak across the yard and into the Cabin-Mansion as stealthily as possible to get the purse containing my car keys.  I took an intricate route around the yard and across the deck to avoid the boards that typically squeaked and opened the glass patio door as quietly as humanly possible.

Mary’s three dogs barked to alert the entire house of the pariah that had just entered and the guest’s dog became startled at both the intrusion and vocalizations of the other dogs and began to yap ceaselessly.  Mission aborted, I querulously walked noisily across the room, grabbed my purse, and tromped back out the door to my car–oh well.  I was already an outcast, what did I care if I woke everybody in the place up?  I hated that my life was so tangled I couldn’t even do basic things easily!

At my kennel duty I walked, cleaned, and fed everyone then sweetly offered each dog and cat a special treat before I went back home.  When I got back to the Cabin-Mansion everyone was asleep and I felt really crummy, and probably had a pallidface so I went back to sleep.  I stayed in bed until I thought all the guests had gone home, not wanting to have to face anyone after my derelict incident of the night before.

Mid-morning I woke up and looked out the window of the fifth wheel and saw Mary sitting and watching Kim tell a monologuein the hot tub, using a lot of gestures.  I could tell it was a skillful story even from far away, because both their actions and reactions were big, and they look pale.  I had to look twice because I wasn’t certain why the two of them looked so blanched.  I guess they trusted that I would be passed out all day from all my drinking of the night before, because both of them were completely naked!  I felt very hung-over, embarrassed, angry, and had hardly any memory of my off-scouring at the party, so I sat at my lap-top and surfed the internet bleakly.  Soon, I could see them looking in the direction of my fifth wheel with great concern, then saw hands flying as elaborate hot-tub exit plans were concocted.  I should have politely averted my eyes to allow them to get out of the hot tub, but I just sat at my laptop facing the window and secretly laughed at the discomfort they were in as a result of their capricious show–I finally had the upper hand, and I wasn’t going to throw it away!  Finally, theperplexing plan was in motion, and Kim just got out of the water and quickly wrapped her towel around her exposed flesh.  She went in the Cabin-Mansion and reappeared with a huge Tony Stewart towel so Mary could get out with dignity–I waspuling that she didn’t have to be mortified.  It seemed no matter how overly casual Mary was, she never had to suffer the consequences of her actions, instead offering her inner circle to do it for her.

Sitting on my bench seat looking at my computer was all the activity I could muster for the majority of the day–my hang-over definitely made me lack liveliness!  My ghostly appearance in my dusty fifth wheel mirror belied my thirst, headache, and sick belly, but Kim and Mary were home so I couldn’t go into the bathroom, I waited an agonizingly long time for my afternoon kennel duty.  Another example of how my life had become so labyrinthine–I couldn’t even go to the fucking bathroom!  I had kennel duty that day, and when I went and finally got to use the bathroom my diarrhea was malodorous–probably from all the alcohol and candy.

At work on Monday, I knew everyone had witnessed the putrid incident, because each person asked how I was feeling.  My noisome embarrassment was complete, but my memory as as incomplete as it could be.  I started my own investigationof what occurred and asked each one of my co-workers what had happened hoping to piece together the events of the party.  The byzantine information didn’t fill all the blanks, but it was better than knowing absolutely nothing.  My inquest was rewarded with a list of mortifying actions on my part–I still had no memories of what had taken place for most of the night, especially after I sat crying in the bathroom.  I tried to redeem myself somewhat by telling them I only had the wine they saw me drink–but I’m not certain if they were credulous enough to believe it.  My (former) fellow receptionist, who wasn’t in Mary’s inner circle seemed the most sympathetic to my plight and suggested some people cannot drink at all–I was unable toundeceive myself that alcohol was a big part of the problem though.  There was no way to set things right–they had seen the scene with their own eyes and they weren’t soon going to forget how sloppy  acted.

The most maddening part of my lewd Christmas party incident was that I wasn’t alone in my drunken misbehavior.  One of my co-workers told everyone (including Mary) at work how she left the party so recklessly drunk that she peed her pants and had to be carried up the steps to her house by her husband.  She humorously added that since she isn’t a small girl herlicentious husband crapped his pants in his efforts to muscle her dead-weight up stairs.  Everyone (especially Mary) thought that her wanton story was amusing and hilarious, and she was not stigmatized in the way I was at all!

It was right after Christmas I wandered back to Missouri, leaving the bucolic desert behind me.  At that time, I thought mywayfaring days were over.  How could I know that Mary would never disabuse what she had done?

It was an ill-fated party, and my participation in it is one of the most fetid moments in my life.

Chapter 1 (“Fallng Down Drunk”?) middle section

31 Dec

I was so tired.  Where was my purse?  I looked, and the black cargo bag did not seem to be with me.  I could not remember where I had put it down.  I was not thinking clearly.  My mind would be rational for a moment, then I would forget just as suddenly what I had managed to remember.  I was walking peripatetic in the direction of the Cabin-Mansion.  I wished I could call Kim for a ride. . .  But I realized anew that my cell phone was in my purse–not with me.  My head was so foggy that I looked around, trying to figure out where I was so she could pick me up.

Seeing the sign to the other veterinary hospital in town, I realized I was on Dayton Valley Road, next to the bridge, just passing Riverside Vet Hospital and the Dayton Valley Nursery.  Since I didn’t have my phone I knew I just had to keep walking.  I knew if I followed that road I would eventually get back to the cabin-mansion.  I had driven down this stretch of pavement a million times growing up, on my way to school, or a club event, or a sports game, but I had never walked the entire way and did not know how long it would take.  Maybe Kim would drive by, on her way home, and stop to pick me up. . .

I looked down at my pants.  Surprisingly, brown streaks of dirt ran down the legs.  The cuffs were ripped at the bottom and filthy.  Ugh–these were my favorite jeans, and I would not be able to wear them now.  The fabric over my right knee was so thin it was about to rip.  Was that a blood stain on the leg?  My thoughts were fragmented.  I could not remember anything that might have caused an injury.  No, it must have been more dirt.  Nothing hurt.  I would remember if I had fallen.  I just wanted to get home.  I was really tired.  I started running, trying to get there faster.  A car drove by—did I look like a silly nomad, trudging in my stained pants?  I probably knew them, and the story of me running down the sidewalk in dirty jeans would be spread around the tiny town by morning. . .  I slowed to a wayfaring walk.  I needed to maintain pseudo-sobriety and look cool.  Concentrate on walking, don’t look drunk.  I have to get home soon, so I can sleep. . .

A white, wood fence was on my left.  I heard my footsteps on the concrete of the sidewalk, and wondered how long I had been wondering home.  I had passed the four way stop that led to the three schools in town, so that was good.  I was still at the first of three planned housing-projects though.  I had a ways to go still–how far was it, anyway?  Music surprised me.  I heard voices!  What were they doing outside this late at night?  I didn’t know what time it was since I didn’t seem to have my phone with me, but it seemed very late.  They must be up to no good.  I passed the backyard the noise was coming from hastily.  Would they try to hassle me?  I hoped they would not try to beat me up or rape me.  I did not think I could adequately defend myself since I was so trashed.  My motor-skills were not at their peak.  I sped up, trying to get away from the possibility of running in to hostile people. . .

I just wanted to go to bed.  I would have to call the bar tomorrow and ask if I had left my purse there.  I hoped Mr. Blaver, the owner, and my Intermediate School PE teacher, would not tell my former best friend Crystal (his daughter-in-law) that I had been so drunk.  I started quietly crying to myself, thinking of how I had tried to sing karaoke.   I wanted to sing as well as Kim, and show her that I could do Green Day’s “Basket Case” really well.  I was already too drunk by the time my turn came though.  After drinking with Mary at the cabin-mansion, Kim and I had gone to the Daytona to gamble.  I have no idea how much we consumed there, but I was trashed by the time Kim drove us to Blaver’s bar, where I ordered a rum & coke and signed up for karaoke.  I could not even hear the lyrics, let alone read the words on the screen.  All I remember was trying to cover up my lack of singing by dancing.  Mr. Blaver was standing next to me asking for the mic back.  I guess the song had ended.  I was mortified that a former teacher with connections to Crystal had seen me in that state.  As I walked down the dark sidewalk in the middle of the summer night, I wailed my regret.  I suddenly remembered how I ended up outside.  I wanted to leave the bar.  I did not want anyone I knew to see me.  I wished I had not embarrassed myself by attempting karaoke.  I went to sit out on the sidewalk in front of the bar and waited for Kim so we could leave.  One of the first times I ever drank alcohol, Kim told me if I ever had too much, got into trouble, or stared getting in a bad situation–just go home.  Always go home.  I could not remember if I told Kim I was going outside—I just wanted to get out of there.  I also did not remember leaving the parking lot.  My itinerant trek was just an escape from mortification.  I certainly did not desert Kim intentionally, or remember leaving at all, actually.  Hopefully she would drive past me soon and take me the rest of the way home. . .

I tripped as the sidewalk ended suddenly.  The road narrowed down to two lanes at this point and there were no more street lamps.  The darkness made me a little more worried.  Quail Ridge, the final neighborhood before the cabin-mansion, was on my right.  I must be over halfway home!  Unfortunately, this was the darkest part of the journey.  The ranch was on my left, just a stretch of dirt and sage brush, and some sprawling fields and houses were scattered to my right.  I was wearing my purple “great catch” tank—nothing reflective.  I hoped no one would hit me as they sped down the rickety road.  I was sweating and tired.  I needed to pass out badly, and hoped Kim would drive by and take me to the cabin-mansion.  I knew she would not be too upset that I was a defector from the bar.  I wondered how long had I been walking.  It felt like forever, and I just wanted to go someplace familiar and sleep. . .