Though I am still licking my wounds, talking about things to various people has helped immensely.  When I got home from work yesterday, I cried a little on a friend's shoulder, then hid in my room and cried a little more, then I took a nap.

I had some really bizarre dreams that I think were trying to tell me something.  No one probably wants to read about my dreams and I've analyzed them enough on my own to mostly understand what I think the message is.

I'm going to have to say the scariest 4 words in the English language: "We need to talk."  And then, I'm going to have to have a conversation that I really don't want to have.  It's a scary prospect and it feels like a risky one, but I can't shake the feeling that it's the right thing to do and pretty much the right time (if there ever is such a thing) to do it.

I am scared to death of what this means.  I have knots in my stomach just thinking about all the things I need to say, both out of respect for him and for our friendship, but also for myself and to avoid past mistakes that I don't want to make again.

But one thing I know with certainty is that I can't stay here anymore.  I have to do something, I have to actually take action.  Fear be damned, I have to suck it up and be the person everyone expects me to be, the person that I show, the person that they know.

I have to just do it.

I guess I wouldn't brush away the idea that I"m being oversensitive.  I don't know, but it really REALLY hurt.  For someone that supportive to hurt me so deeply with what I can only assume was a flippant remark is hard to come to terms with.

I don't let people in easily or often.  There's a short list of less than 10 people who could hurt me the way he did today.  One of the most supportive people on the current journey I've been taking, or at least trying to take, to tell me that he doesn't care about one of the most important moments along this path so far.

I think my heart broke a little.  I know I was crushed.  He made me cry, and that's not something that I let very many have the power over.

The emotional pain was crippling for a while, now it's just a nagging ache.  I hurt so much and I don't know what would make it better.  People tell me that I should say something and, out of respect for him, I probably will, but I will still hurt and I will still wonder if there was any measure of seriousness in the statement that he made.

It could be a flippant comment that fell totally flat, it could be a case of misplaced anger, it could be a case of...  heh, something I don't think I'm comfortable revealing, but something suggested by someone else.

Maybe if I wasn't all wrapped up in that four-letter word that I still mostly choke on I wouldn't be so wounded.  Maybe if I saw any hint of a smile or a glint in his eyes, it wouldn't have stabbed so deep.

But maybes don't make it happen.

He made me cry.  That's hard for me to forgive, especially when it's something so important.

~FG };`^<

I have this one friend who, by rights, should be a whole lot cooler, hipper and having more fun than he actually is.  It's breaking my heart to watch him these days because I can see him turning into something that he really shouldn't be, but I don't know how to prevent it...  I'm sure, actually, that _I_ can't stop it.  Either he will or he won't.

Whenever I look at him, I can almost see a specific internal conflict.  Picture two men...

There's this bitter old man, and he's carrying a cane.  There's also a rock star, he's holding a busted bottle of Jack Daniels as his weapon.  These two guys are beating the crap out of each other, fighting for dominance.

The problem is, that as far as I can see, the old man has the rock star cowering in the corner while the wails the shit out of him with the cane.  It scares me to wonder what would happen if the old man seriously disabled the rock star, because that's the part that makes life fun...  the part that makes it worth it. 

Why be old before you even hit 30?

I'm sorry, man, but the word "allocate" should never be used in reference to rock and roll.  There's something seriously wrong with that.

~*Working lyrics*~
I wanna live a rock and roll lifestyle
Don't wanna live from 9 until 5
I wanna live the rock and roll lifestyle
There's more to this living than trying to simply survive.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I don't know...  like I said, they're working.  In progress.  I think the muse may be coaxing me to serenade his inner rock star into actually fighting back.

~FG };^>

I am the type of person who simply has to have a plan for everything.  When I don't have a plan, I feel completely lost.  My friends mock me for this, which isn't surprising since for every situation, at least three or four times, I wind up saying "Ok, I have a plan," or "Wanna hear my new plan?"

"Haha, ok, Fyre, you always have a plan...  let's hear this one."

But the really sad part is that most of the grand plans I come up with are abandoned.  It's not that they're not *good* plans, usually they are, but every plan relies on a certain specific set of circumstance to occur...  and usually they don't, at least not in the way that will fit into my Plan.

Which is why I usually have so many different plans, for a million different situations.

I even rank my plans.  Good plan = this would be fun, it's likely I could carry it out or at least it would be the very best outcome I could hope for.  Bad plan = not something I want to do, but that I could do if it came to that.  Yeah, those are the rankings...  all two of them.

It's like a security blanket.  It makes me feel like I have a stronger grasp on reality than I usually do.  It makes me feel like I'm in control.  It makes me feel like there's more than just muddling through whatever situation needs some kind of resolution.

So when I talk about my Plans, when I scheme and plot and map out my next course of action, afford me a little forgiveness.  I can't make it through if I have no Plan.

No Plan = pure and utter panic.

~FG };^>

Ok, now that I've recovered from the ridiculously late outing to the open mic, I'm ready to blogit.

Wednesday night, open mic night.  Thought I was going to be hooking up with a fellow musician buddy of mine, but he seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet.  None of my other friends decided to show up, so I was flying solo.  I brought a notepad and figured, while there was no music happening (since I show up early to sign up and get a reasonable slot), I would work on my latest song (which I actually finished and is pretty damn good).

So I signed up early, said hello to the couple of people I knew and waited for the open mic to begin.  Jess is a FANTASTIC waitress, coming up and asking if I'd be having my usual brand of beer, which I did, and just always on the ball.  I think that some people are born to do a certain job and do it well...  she is one of those people, though I wouldn't want to *curse* her to a life of waiting tables.

I found myself a little preoccupied with the same old shit that has been playing through my head.  Not having the distractions of friends around me just didn't help really at all.  Eventually, though, it was my turn to perform.

And OMG, I was hot that night!  It was probably my best public performance EVER and, of course, none of my friends were there for it.  I had an exceptionally fresh microphone that apparently wanted my boobs to sing and I had to stop in the middle of a song to get the mic back up to mouth level, but even that I pulled off incredibly well.  I was wonderfully received by the audience and throughout the night all kinds of people kept coming up to me and telling me how much they loved my performance.  "You are an excellent songwriter."  "I love when people perform originals, that was great!"  "You were the best performer tonight."  "You have a gorgeous voice."  I think the best part of the whole thing was that none of them knew my mom or even who she was.  The only comparisons were to the other performers.  I stood on my own and I won the respect and admiration of many.

And, dammit, none of my friends were there to see it.

So I did the only thing I really could do in that situation.  I made new friends :-P

This band called Spitfire Pilot is one that I saw the week before.  The lead singer took a shine to me and decided to focus on me for the rest of the night.  Them and these two excellent musicians, Justin and Ramsey, were my hosts for the evening.  They wouldn't let me leave until almost 2am - and, dude, I had to wake up at 5:30 the next morning.

But I was Miss Popular at the Lark Tavern.  I flitted between the various people (mostly men) and networked exceptionally well.  I think I even remember most people's names.  I know that after my antics last week (throwing myself on stage at the feet of John Broder, begging him to play a song), I got my request.  I did have to say "Come on, I don't do that sort of thing for just anyone."  I have a feeling John is not going to forget me anytime soon, unless I just stop showing up at open mics (which is, by NO MEANS, anything I intend to do).

Other than Bobby D licking my arm all night long, it was a lot of lighthearted fun.  I need to make sure I keep this up and keep the networking aspect of it going.  I'm hoping to head up there this weekend to catch Spitfire Pilot and Sense Offenders (Tom McWatters, John Broder, a couple others) when they play.  Maybe if I put myself out of context, in context, I will stick out even more in their minds.  I can just about guarantee that Sense Offenders are people to know and Spitfire Pilot...  I'm not sure, but they sure are fun to watch.

Now to figure out how I can protect myself from the further advances of Bobby D and make sure I don't have to fly this one solo...

~FG };^>

Patriotism Misunderstood

*sings*  I'm gonna get my name back, I'm gonna get my name back!

So, yeah, we went to the lawyer's today.  I have to send some information to this guy so we can finish it up.  I send him my tax info and Spawn's SSN, he mails the paperwork to Dragonmaker, we both sign it, send it back and ONE WEEK later, that's it, it's over!

OH HELL YEAH!

So that means that it took nearly 7 years, but DUDE, I am gonna get my name back!

*does a little dance*

And my fears were unrealized, though I can't detail it here, but this is still a good thing.

Now it's off to the open mic to see if I can, if not impress myself, at least not crap out.

~FG };^>

Do you know who Kokopelli is?  If not, click the link and read up.

I don't always think about symbolism.  I mean, often I do, but not all the time.  I wear what's comfortable and I do what I want, most of the time, usually without thinking things all the way through.

So, back when I was at Falcon Ridge I bought a couple of dresses.  One was this Guatamalan dress that I scored for $10, the other was a green Cinderella dress from Eagle Ray Traders with a nifty stars, moons and Kokopelli pattern on it.

Frankly, the Eagle Ray dress was the only one in my size in a color I could actually wear.  (Being pale as a ghost leaves me limited in flattering color choices.)

You know, there's no way I ever would have thought about it.  Even if I were readily familiar (instead of passingly familiar) with the Kokopelli lore, I still would not have thought about it.  I just liked the green dress.

I noticed that night at FRFF that I was getting an awful lot of attention.  I attributed this to the fact that I was wearing a glowing necklace, blue glowstick hoop earrings and several glowstick bracelets.  It would be more than accurate to say, I stood out (not that I don't anyway, but usually less so in the dark).  I didn't really think anything of it.  Wearing that much glowing neon in the dark at a folk festival is bound to garner attention.  It's not like they could even see the dress.

My usual distraction, my favorite distraction is unavailable to me tonight.  People keep yelling at me for stupid shit that isn't my fault and has nothing to do with me.  All of a sudden I'm greatly worried about my job situation.

I am a woman of extremes.  When I am up, I couldn't get any higher, when I am down, it's the end of the world.  It all came crashing down on me tonight and I can't seem to put my finger on any one reason or cause.

I can think of ONE thing that would make me feel better...  and it's something I don't think I'll get.  Girl is right, and I already knew this, but hearing it out loud "You can't control other people" just made it *more* real to me.  I already knew it...  doesn't make it easier.

I think I have to see the lawyer tomorrow to find out what's going on with the divorce and sign some papers.  I have no idea what this is going to be, but I decided I want to get my name back.  That would be a nice thing.  THAT would make me happy.

I'm just tired of everything.  And on top of that, I"m tired.  I'm sore and cranky and sleepy and just generally discontent.  And I can think of ONE THING that would make me feel better, but it's the ONE THING I am most unlikely to get tonight.

Blah.

~FG };^/