Climbing Out

Just a bit at a time.

This year has been particularly difficult.

Between injuries, some fucked up mental health issues, and blood pressure bullshit, I’m not at my best.

I don’t do as much as I used to and I’m tired all the time. I thought it was mostly due to getting used to the new medicines. In fact, I discussed that possibility with my doctor on Friday. I told her that I felt like the medications was causing some depression symptoms.

She floated the possibility that perhaps depression was causing my depression symptoms.

Which, you know, makes sense.

I’m super grateful that the panic attacks are still under control. That’s awesome. But it’s not enough. We’re going to try some new medications, but I also know I have to force myself out of the pattern I’ve been in.

I have to force myself to care about more than bingeing something on Netflix.

So I did.

I did a few things.

First, a few weeks ago, when I was driving around trying to decide what I wanted to do for lunch, I decided to get a tattoo that I’ve wanted for years now.

I talked to the nice lady in my phone who tells me where things are and she led me to the closest tattoo parlor.

The tattoo I wanted was very simple. I wasn’t worried that it wouldn’t look good. I didn’t think I’d actually be able to get a tattoo, but I’d at least make the appointment.

I went in and there were two young men who were the artists and one had a client in his chair.

I told them what I wanted and the other dude said he could do it right then.

So, I was in.

The artist who had a young man in his chair asked Alexa to play The Doors. I heard the beginning of Light My Fire, just as I was settling into the chair.

Tattoo Artist #1: Oh man…it would the one song of theirs I don’t like.

Me: Yeah. It’s hard to listen to. Kind of like Stairway To Heaven. It’s just been too many times.

We proceeded to have a lovely conversation about The Doors.

Tattoo Artist #1: So, did you get a chance to see them live?

Me:…

Me: Dude. How the fuck old do you think I am?

Tattoo Artist #1: Uh…no no..I didn’t mean.

Me: Jim Morrison died in 1971.

Me: I was 8.

Tattoo Artist #2: But you were at least born.

Me: You know…I haven’t tipped you yet.

I let the poor guys off the hook. They were both younger than 3 of our 4 children and therefore are babies.

Tattoo Artist #2 did a great job. My new tattoo serves both as a reminder and as a homage to Douglas Adams.

The other thing I did was find an open mic event.

We went a week ago Sunday. I didn’t practice this at all, but I was familiar with the material. I felt pretty good about jumping back in. The audio isn’t very good. Mostly people say they don’t understand the last line. It’s “you must win”.

Anyway…I have been writing some new material and am going to do this again soon.

I’m trying to climb out.

 

 

It’s Good To Belong

We all want to fit in, right?

Sure, no one wants to come from a cookie cutter. We want to be unique and stand out. Even when we say we don’t, we kind of do. I mean, at least that is what I suspect.

Even so, it’s good to belong and have a tribe.

It’s good to feel comfortable in your surroundings. To be able to sit down and go “I belong here. No one can question this.”

So, we took our son, Joey, to the airport last Wednesday. He flew out to Seattle to visit his big brother and returns Monday. It’s not like, a few months ago, when we took my older son, Zach, to the airport. He flew away to Seattle and stayed there. And then I had separation anxiety issues, basically broke down, and ended up going on medically supervised psychedelic trips to recover.

Although, I am pretty sure, as Joey has no real ties here, there is a good chance he will end up out there.

I nearly had a psychotic break when my kid who already lived 2 hours away moved across the country. Super curious how I’m going to react when my baby boy, who lives with us, does the same. I mean, if he does. I’m making things up now, but I’ve been living in the “making things up” space for a while now.

It’s not like I want Joey to stay here. I don’t. I truly want him go where ever he needs to be to thrive and be happy.

So far, the west coast has been more than Zach could have hoped for. He lives in a beautiful place. He’s kicking ass at his job. He callswaterfall in the state of Washington me nearly every day with wonder in his voice at something beautiful he has seen.

I want the same for Joey, no matter what that means. No matter where he settles. But, I guess, my brain is not okay with the whole separation thing. I’m just saying, I’m not an overbearing mother who wants her children to stay by her side. Except for the part where I have panic attacks when they leave.

It’s exhausting being me.

But I digress.

After we dropped Joey off at the airport, we decided to go out for dinner.

We ended up at the Greyhound Tavern in Ft. Mitchell, KY.

I grew up close by and this place was usually referred to as the Greyhound Grill. It’s been there forever. I think Randy and I had been there together one other time in 28 years.

I remember it being a bit more casual, but we weren’t embarrassing or anything. I still had my work clothes on and Randy is just a snappy dresser. Seriously, he is often put together with no intention of leaving the house.

We got seated and looked at the menus.

I couldn’t see anything because the restaurant was kind of dark and I didn’t have my readers. But Randy could see the menu.

Randy: This is an old person place.

Me: What?

Randy: The sides on the menu look like what you would find in a nursing home.

Me: Ooooh…is there applesauce?

Randy: Seriously, look around. Other than staff, we are definitely the youngest people here.

Then, and I swear I am not making this up, an old lady fell down.

Here is how I know Randy is right in his assessment that the Greyhound Tavern is an old people place:

An old lady fell down and the reaction was pretty fucking bland. Like…oh, another old person fell down. My goodness, that happens here a lot.

Even the old lady on the ground was okay with it. I could hear her telling people she was fine and to just help her up. So they did. They helped her up, went to their table, and ordered dinner like troopers.

Randy: We are definitely in an old person place.

Me: Yeah? Well, I hate to break it to you, but we belong. We’re both over 60 now.

Randy:…

Me: It’s like when you start your senior year of high school. You see those incoming freshmen and they look like babies.

Randy:…

Me: We’re the freshmen.

Randy:…

Me: In this situation, it’s really best to be the freshman. I don’t think we’re going to fall down.

Randy: Have you met you?

Me: Fair.

I ordered the open face roast beef. My dinner came with a cup of cole slaw with some soda crackers on the side.

It was delicious.

What was the middle thing?

I loved A Fish Called Wanda.

I’ve been recalling Kevin Kline’s character, Otto, more and more these days. What was the middle thing?

I’m not saying I’m losing my mind, I’m just saying my mind takes longer and longer strolls.

This year has been trying, y’all. I had yet another doctor appointment for my blood pressure. We’re adding another medicine. I wanted to take zero pills for this and now I’m  taking two.

I think everything started going downhill when I fell in a hole.

Anyway, between work stress and health stress and kid stress and stress stress, my ability to focus has suffered.

an unfocused Michelle

I mean, it’s not all bad. Have I let things fall through the cracks at my job? Yes. Have I let things fall through the cracks at home? Also, yes. Have I bought tickets to events without really understanding what I was doing? Yep, go ahead and check that box “yes” as well. So, you know, not all bad. No one lost an eye or anything.

A few weeks ago, I saw that Christopher Titus would be performing soon.

Randy and I saw him the last time he performed in our area. His wife, Rachel Bradley opened for him. They were both amazing and I felt super excited for them to come back. So, I ordered tickets.

There was an option for a VIP after show happy hour and it was pretty cheap, so you know, hell yeah! Who doesn’t love a cheap happy hour with super funny people? So, I bought two tickets and told Randy. He was kind of amazed by how cheap it was and asked if I remembered what we paid the last time? I did not and I didn’t care. I just knew we were going to actually leave the house, on a weekend, for a reason that didn’t include walking through a produce department and ignoring candy bars at a checkout.  Bonus, the show started at 7:00pm, so it wouldn’t be too horribly late when we got home.

On Friday morning, as I prepared for work, I realized I had no idea where my tickets were for this event, which was the next night. Would they be on my phone? Did I need to print them?

I searched my email and found where I bought two tickets to watch Christopher Titus and Rachel Bradley on a live stream event. I bought two tickets for something we would watch on one computer. And the start time? Pacific time. So, 10:00pm our time.

I calculated the amount of shit Randy would hang on me and decided to just get it over with quickly.

Me: Hey, guess what we are not doing tomorrow night?

Randy: What?

Me: Seeing Titus live. It’s a live stream event.

Randy: Hahahahahahaha

Me: It starts at 10:00pm

Randy: HAHAHAHAHAHA

Randy: What’s the VIP part?

Me: No idea. I assume a zoom thing or something?

Fine. This was fine. We would adjust. I was still going to enjoy the show. We’d just take a nap or something. No way we’d stay awake that late.

So, last night, I set an alarm. Just in case.

We dialed up a movie that I assume Randy found boring because he was snoring in no time. My eyes grew heavy, but it was all good. I had that alarm set.

Good, thing I set the alarm, because I nodded off as well.

I thought there’d be a new email or something for the event. You know, a link to it? So, I started searching my email again.

The original date for the show was 5/6. At some point, that date changed to 5/13.

So, to recap, I bought 2 virtual tickets to a show, including extra for a VIP thing that I still don’t understand for a time way too late for two old people who always fall asleep early and then also got the date wrong. I think the only thing else I could have done wrong would have been to attempt to buy tickets to see Titus and then, accidentally buy tickets to see Godspell.

After the alarm went off, I spent a few frustrating minutes figuring out there was no reason to have set an alarm. I was wide awake. It took forever to get back to sleep.

Which really gives me hope that I will be able to stay awake next weekend. You know, when the actual show happens.

We bought tickets today to see Nick Cave in Chicago in September. Randy was involved in the process and we are both sure of the date, time, city and venue.  Plus, going to Chicago operates on Central time, so we should be able to stay up without much effort. I checked, but there isn’t a VIP option for Nick Cave, which sucks, because that would be cool.

p.s. Sunday morning, Randy played this video and said, “I’ve found your spirit animal.”