CarouselChronicles

Thursday, January 29, 2004

I know I was supposed to tell you about the Carousel. I will. It's just that I have so many metaphors wrapping around my head. I don't want to confuse you with my confusion.

Okay, here goes. Craziness, this crazy-making life people lead, spins out of control. It spins on its own axis and wobbles like a spinning top. As it's spinning it creates a vortex of force that keeps people inside and makes it ever so hard to break free. Sometimes, when the spinning is stopped suddenly, the people are flung out to the edges of craziness. That's what I mean by the Carousel. Those crazy painted horses, animals, cars, motorcycles, or whatever that make no sense but seem pretty or cool so you ride on them. They go nowhere but around and around. You get lost riding them because they're not taking you anywhere and if you look out all you see is a stream of vision that you can't focus on because it seems life is speeding past you when actually you're the one going in circles. If you look to the other side it makes you dizzy because all you see is your own face is the weird carousel mirror. It seems distorted and the crazy music they play is so annoying after a while. The Carousel spins and spins out of control but most people on the Carousel don't even notice.

The Carousel is a vast place filled with strange neighborhoods. Some of them look relatively normal, others are obvious places of severe dysfunction. Even when people realize they need to move out of their crazy neighborhood they usually only make it to the next block because they want to stay close to relatives, or they don't realize their new neighborhood isn't far enough away from their old neighborhood and they can still hear the sounds and smell the odors of the old place.

Some people realize from the start that they don't want to be riding on the Carousel. They forget about the brass ring and they move closer and closer to the frightening edge. Deep within the Carousel the motion of the vortex goes unnoticed. Only at the edge of the Carousel is the spinning motion really detectable, and it's scary. People who try to get off the Carousel have to overcome a lot of misinformation and false leads. They get on busses that promise to get them off the Carousel but only move them to a different neighborhood. Every once in a while one of these people notices the man who operates the Carousel. He moves between the two worlds of on and off the crazy spinning top. He jumps on, moves all around the Carousel, jumps back off, sometimes he goes into the hidden room in the middle where the music comes from. Who is the man? How can he move between the worlds so easily? Some people follow him to the edge, some people discover the edge on their own. Once they have enough courage, they jump off. Sometimes they lean so far over the edge they fall off. Sometimes someone pulls them off.

Landing is always hard. There are really no soft landings from off the Carousel. As soon as one gets up the first thing they always do is look back at the Carousel. It's so huge! It could crush a person easily. It's spinning so fast! Some people hate the feeling of being a foreigner in a foreign land. They don't know the language, it's hard to pick up the mannerisms, everyone can tell they just fell off the Carousel. Some of them fall in with others Carousel emigres and that's helpful. Others get lonesome and try to go back to get family or have obsessive thoughts about those still on Carousel. The best thing for survival is to run. Run as fast and far away as you can from the Carousel. The vortex motion if very powerful and easily suck a person right back onto the Carousel. The person may not even notice at first because of the disorientation of moving between the two worlds. Some people are crushed by trying to escape the Carousel. Others, sadly, jump off in the middle instead of the outer edge and are trapped forever alone with the crazy music.

I jumped off the Carousel. I left family behind. I was sucked back in more than once, but thankfully I was never crushed. I ran as fast as I could and I'm still running. The further you get from the Carousel, the easier it becomes. I still hear the music faintly, it's louder sometimes. I can always tell a Carousel native because one never totally loses the accent or mannerisms. It's okay. The Carousel isn't 100% bad. It's just crazy-making and dangerous. Not everyone survives. Now, I can walk a straight line and get somewhere. And you know what? From far, far away the Carousel seems a very innocent, happy, fun, creative place. But nothing's ever exactly what it seems, is it?

confessions of gd * 09:11

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Tuesday, January 27, 2004

I had a dream last night about a girl I used to know named SS. Isn't that funny? She was an idiot and kind of a dork. I mistakenly thought she had a good heart. I thought we would have so much in common because she's kind of goofy and loud and a Libra like me. As it turned out, she was too much of a mess even for me to hang around. This was a million trillion years ago when I was trying to be born again. So impossible. I realize now that we probably never had one real conversation during the whole time we were acquainted. We were roommates, briefly. She was just too absolutely insane.

She's one of those people who read NewsWeek magazine and then think they know everything about everything. I'm sure it's gotten much worse now there's all those newsdrama shows. She listened to Dr. Laura like a madwoman. She was always full of angst about getting along and fitting in and being "artsyfartsy". That's one of her words. She was so Lakewoody, though. God it was tedious. One time, when I was working graveyard mind you, she showed up at my house at 10 in the morning, which in graveyard time means it's like 2 or 3 am. She was crying about the way her hair was done and I got out of bed and took her to the salon where my sister was working. She wasn't available to help, but one of the owners, a good friend of ours and a wonderful man, fixed her hair. That ungrateful bitch didn't tip him worth shit and then badmouthed him all the way back to my house because he's gay. She had enormous guilt that she'd paid a gay hairdresser to fix her hair. I remember she said "This is what I get for being vain and wasting money on hairstyling". I shit you not, that's what she said. Unbelievable ignorant bitch.

Our birthdays fall in the same week. When she was working in San Diego she planned with me for a month that I would drive down from L.A. and we'd spend the weekend in San Diego and Tijuana. We talked on the phone the night before and confirmed our plans and when I left the house I called her and left a message on her machine that I was on my way. So I get there and I'm knocking on the door and there's no answer. For two hours I stalked the apartment and went to the 711 on the corner to call her. This was before everyone had a cellphone. No answer. No answer. No answer.

So I drove back home wondering if she'd been murdered or was just pissed off at me for some uknown reason. About an hour after I got there she started calling me. I let her call me and cry into the answering machine. I'm sorry. I was taking a nap. I had my earplugs in. I'm so sorry I forgot to set the alarm. Please come back. I bought tickets for a show. Fuck you was all I was thinking. I spent that birthday weekend going to museums by myself and I bought my own tiny birthday cake at Creative Cakery. It was lemon.

She told all our friends how I ditched her and left her with show tickets she couldn't unload. Gratefully no one had sympathy for her. What an idiot cow. I can't tell you many times she screwed me over like that and then just laughed about it like it was all some Doris Day comedy on late night TV. She eventually married some retard and started breeding. I hope she's happy, but frankly I don't really care. I saw her one day on the street and we walked right past each other like strangers. It was a relief. I won't tell you everything about her, just that she's only one of a myriad of people I had to cut out of my life to survive. I stepped on her head to get to the edge of the Carousel and jump off.

I'll tell you about the Carousel. I will. I promise. Just not today.

confessions of gd * 16:09

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Monday, January 26, 2004

Did I ever tell you how people used to say I looked just like Monica Lewinsky? Yeah, me too. It's why I went blonde. Then people started telling me I looked like the girl on that design show. You know the one. With the girl? Oh, you know. Well anyway, according to them I look just like her. I guess I have one of those faces. No matter what I do to my hair, people always tell me I look exactly like someone. Funny how none of the people I supposedly doppleganger look anything alike.

confessions of gd * 16:19

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Sunday, January 25, 2004

Here's a new episode of chaos. I was going to put my entire previous diaries on here, but I'm not sure now. We'll have to wait and see. This weekend I went with my friend to drop my bar and barstools off at J and R's apartment. It was fun. They're so nice. JJ wouldn't put his clothes on, but was walking around in a bathrobe. RH was fortunately dressed but it was only in shabby sweats and later on when I went to the park I saw he was wearing the same thing. He probably slept in those sweats and just put shoes on later. What a piggy.

When I was at the park, I could tell BH was kind of upset but smiling through it. A and A were chatting and I tried to sit with them, but they kind of ignored me a little bit. When R showed up she was making me scream practically. She's so manic. I swear that's why she's so skinny. Her mouth alone takes up enough calories for two people. I saw BG at the park and he was really gentlemanly to me, like he always is. Those East Coast manners. Then B was kind of pissy with me and all the way home I was second-guessing myself. I was wondering if I'd done something to piss her off, or said something that affected her. I shrugged it off because, you know what else can you do?

Later when I got home my roommate was STILL asleep. I asked her if she was sick and she said no. She seemed kind of weird and I was wondering what was wrong with her. It turns out she'd had this complete night of hell on the Chinese New Year. Her car was taken away by the cops, she has to apply to get another license because they took that, too. Her two idiot friends who were passed out in the back seat the whole time have been calling her like crazy about their stuff they left in her car. And then on top of it all she may have lost her job. I kind of hope she has. I kept telling her she needed to get another job, but she was comfortable there. Now maybe she'll get a job more deserving of her.

So I offered to take her out to dinner and then when we got home B called me and started telling me about what a useless jerk BG is. I know this. I told her it was a Careless Whispers thing long ago. She had to go all the way through it and finish it to be sure. The Real BG is being held hostage by his evil twin BeeGee. BG is alone, in the boat house or wherever these people get kidnapped to in soap operas. BeeGee hooked himself up with digicams so that BG is forced to watch and hear every evil thing his evil twin does. Meanwhile, back at the ranch B was crying and asking me if I remembered BG the way he really was. I said yes, I did. You aren't crazy, it wasn't a dream. There was a BG and he was a good person, and I believe that he was in love with you. I'm really sorry that it was actually Bee Gee you hooked up with, but the funny thing is that BG actually has the key to the boathouse in his pocket. He could free himself and do away with the evil twin if he wasn't such a pathetic loser good guy cowering in fear of BeeGee. Move on, I told her. You are a better person for having loved and tried. in years to come, when BeeGee has to go to AA meetings he'll probably send BG in his place. But you won't care. You'll be with Prince Perfectly Right For You. So who gives a crap about BG or BeeGee? Not me, certainly.

On that torrid note, I'll say goodnight.

confessions of gd * 17:38

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Thursday, January 22, 2004

Today is Chinese New Year. It's now the year of the laughing green wood monkey. He's a trickster. If you're a snake, it's supposed to be an incredible year for you. If you're a rat or a dragon, it'll be a good year for you. Everyone else needs to watch out because anything and everything can happen in a monkey year. Monkeys love to turn everything inside outside upside down. Well, that's all I have to say tonight. You'll have to wait until later for any scintillating tales I may have.

confessions of gd * 19:47

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Wednesday, January 21, 2004

I will tell you about the Carousel. I will tell you about the crazy clown music, the scary faces, and the dark dangerous places. I will tell you because I'm a teller. That's what saved me. I will tell you everything, because I'm a teller.

confessions of gd * 13:44

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