Every Moment Counts
The weeks go by like the minutes of the day, and life is so unpredictable. I had a great day yesterday. Been spending a lot of free time with Brad, because it’s been bringing out the painter in me, and it’s really easy to talk to him because of how similar we are. He’s got 21 years on me, so it’s nice to gain some perspective from someone who’s lived more experiences than I have, and has a similar way of thinking.
Somewhere along, halfway through the day it had been brought to our attention that Hell’s Kitchen is closing down, which means celebrations came out to be. For me, my reasons are completely different as to why I’m happy to see that place go, but honestly, Tacoma needed this to happen. Because of the way Flash ran that fucking bar, it all but completely destroyed the music scene out here. It set a standard in peoples hearts and minds that music was about “Fuck you, pay me.” It hasn’t been about music for a very long time. Any place that tried to make itself known as a decent punk rock venue was shut down in one way or another, bands were left answering to someone who had nothing to do with their goals and plans, because it was all about money. That man fucked with so many fucking lives all for the sake of greed. Even after he was no longer a part of HK, the damage that had been done to the music scene still lingered.
Now that the king of the alternative/punk/metal music community has fallen, clubs can rise up and share the love between each other without this constant cutthroat attitude. No one has any loyalties to any club, they can play where ever the fuck they want without someone fucking with their show.
I’ve watched so many good clubs or metal/punk nights die because Flash saw it as a threat to his pocket book, and even though he was no longer a part of it, the stigma attached to the name was still there, at least for me it was.
So good fucking riddance!
Shawn, Brad, and I went out to celebrate together, and we found ourselves at this house party, it was fucking amazing! I had no idea this place existed, and they have been throwing shows for over 2 years now. The vibe was so welcoming and friendly. I didn’t feel like anyone was trying to impress anyone, they just do it because they love music. I don’t want to bash on The Nemesis house, because I think there needs to be more shit like that out there, but I’ve never really cared much for the vibe. It always feels like a competition and a cool kids club, so I don’t really support it. That, and I can’t handle how smokey the basement gets. Always feels like they want to be the only house throwing house shows. The kids that put it together modeled it after the Hell’s Kitchen that Flash created, and it never made me feel all that comfortable to be there.
Didn’t feel that way last night at this other house. There was no competition, when I met Clair, she was just as happy to meet me as I was happy to meet her. Yes! Other people who do this because they love music, all kinds of music. The house was warm, friendly, and inviting. It kinda felt like my house, except the life that has been breathed into that place, it feels like it’s that way all the time, and not just when they’re throwing shows. I felt love, love for music, and love for the people that it drew together, no matter who they were or where they came from, I felt welcome and happy. The bands were killer, everyone I met was killer, and the 3 of us had a great fucking time. After the 3rd band, which was called Overboard (formerly Walk The Plank) was fucking amazing, and all I wanted to do was go home and play music after I saw them.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to play my bass because I was happy and needed to do something with my fingers. 🙂
Earlier in the day, Shawn showed me some simple scales, and I actually understood them and what he was saying, so I’m gonna start practicing scales, and forcing myself to use my pinky. I love how patient Shawn is. He has the ability to be a complete and total snob when it comes to music, as his skill so far surpasses mine, but he wasn’t a dick about it at all. I love jamming with people who are better than me and not snobby about it, even if it’s only for 15 minutes or so. Although, thanks to that fucking asshole, I now have “When The Saints Go Marching In” stuck in my fucking head. lol
Yesterday, when I got home around 10:30pm, I felt like I could do absolutely anything, and what I’ve realized since waking up is, that I really can.
The world is my oyster, and I can make that bitch spit me out pearl after pearl after pearl if I want to. When Brad and I were talking, he said I need to learn how to stop letting my emotions control me so I can focus and do what I need to do, do the things I was born to do, and he’s right.
SHiT is done, Aaron and I have come to an agreement. We’re finishing the shows we have booked, and then we’re going our separate ways, no longer friends, but still encouraging each other to go out and be the best that we can possibly be. It’s a weird split, and I’m actually okay with it.
We’re wild animals that tear each other apart without even meaning to. So we’ve chosen to walk away before any more damage is done. Part of me wishes we could face the fire together and come out the other side covered in scars, but not burned alive…but it’s not meant to be. He’s not willing to put up with me, and my emotional issues that lead to unpredictability, and I can’t say that I blame him.
I’m going through a huge transition right now, and no matter what happens, getting better is what’s most important to me. A lot of shit has changed, and I need to be more honest with myself about what my needs are.
Dan is becoming increasingly important to me. I’ve been watching this show called “The United States of Tera” on Netflix, and holy fuckin’ shit! I used to be borderline dissociative. I’d black out a lot when I was younger, and I’d live in these little worlds inside of my head. My grandma would try to talk to me, and it was hard as fuck to reach me. Part of the breakthrough I went through a couple days ago made me realize that Sam and Zebrana Bastard are tools I use to expose the truth about my life, but the shit that happened to me didn’t happen to Sam and Zebrana, it happened to Becky, and Becky is still a very, very big part of who I am. I’ve been saying for years that Becky is a stupid little bitch in pigtails that I killed years ago, but she’s not dead, she’s alive, well, and still very fucking pissed off.
The show deals with shit that is so close to my real life, that it’s been a kind of therapy for me just in watching it. I watch the shit that Tera and Max go through, and I find myself staring at Dan throughout the night, and wondering just how I got so fucking lucky.
In the conversation that transpired between Brad and I yesterday, I shared with him some of the reasons I love Dan so much, and talked about some of the shit I’ve put him through in the 7 1/2 years that we’ve been together.
After Dan and I got past the 7 year itch bullshit we went through, I promised him that no matter what I say or do, I’m not going anywhere. He’s been with me through the worst parts of my life, the darkest fucking holes, and the fact that he’s still here for me, still a firm and solid foundation, still holding my hand…it’s fucking amazing to me. Now that I’m finally seeing breakthroughs and the light at the end of the tunnel, now that I’m making real fucking progress, there’s no way in hell that any other man deserves all the good that has been happening and all the good that is coming. Dan is a real fucking man, and one of the strongest and most patient men I’ve ever fucking known. When I tell him thank you for loving me, he just smiles, holds me tight, and says, “I love my baby.” His eyes sparkle and shine, and for everything I’ve ever questioned in my life, I know that it’s real.
I really want to do something for him. Like something really, really special, something that says…”Hey, you’ve put up with a miserable cunt for the last 9 years of your life, and I want you to know that I greatly appreciate every single fucking thing that you’ve ever done for me. I love you.”
I’ve been thinking about this a while now. Every time I open his sock drawer and see his 5 year pin staring at me, it makes me want to do it even more.
I was so fucking busy, and so fucking selfish that when he hit his 5 years at Destination H-D, his accomplishment was completely over looked. I remember him mentioning something to me about it that he had hit 5 years, but I also remember it not really sinking in until I came across his pin a couple years later. It breaks my heart every time I look at it. I have always been so busy and wrapped up in my life, my goals, and my dreams, that I completely shit all over something that was super important to him without even meaning to. Dylan and Alan keep bringing up that he’s coming up on 10 years at the shop, and I hear the slight sigh in his voice when he says “yeah”. I should’ve been proud of him when he hit 5 years, I should’ve celebrated him and all of his hard work and dedication to his craft, I should’ve done a lot of things, and it’s too late now. That 5 year mark has come and gone, and the most supportive I’ve ever been is hounding him to quit his fucking job because I hate the shop and what it does to him.
Bottom line though, he LOVES motorcycles, he LOVES working on bikes, and even though the shop is full of an ever revolving supply of bullshit, he still LOVES his job, and I have been a shitty and unsupporting partner. No matter what hair brained scheme I’ve come up with, or how much my goals drained our bank account while nothing he wanted was ever taken care of, he has always supported me.
I completely understand now why he said what he said when I got back from Mayhem last year. He told me that if he had known that supporting my dreams would mean that he’d never get to see me, he never would’ve done it. My initial response was I wanted to take everything we both loved into the garage, douse it in gasoline, and watch it burn. I woke up on the couch the next morning, which is where I cried myself to sleep that night. Seriously though, how would I feel if I continually gave everything I had to the person I loved most, and in return all I got out of it was an empty house? I think it would make me second guess my actions as well.
I can’t make up for ignoring his 5 year accomplishment, but I can do something now to show him just how much he means to me, and how grateful I am that he’s been my rock for so many years. I’m not going anywhere, I love him. I love him so much it hurts to breath sometimes. From the day our eyes first met, he has done nothing but love me and give me everything I never had but always wanted…stability and safety. Even when I ran from it, and tried to destroy it, he never gave up on me. He has protected me from everyone and the world, including myself. I have put him through some shit I would never put up with if the shoe were on the other foot, and I feel so fucking fortunate that I opened my eyes before it was too late.
He deserves something extraordinary, and I have no idea what to do, because no idea I come up with seems amazing enough to say what it is I’m trying to say.
Loving someone and being in love does not mean it’s going to be a perfect, “happily ever after” kind of ride. It takes time, it takes patience, it takes work. Never ending, hard, diligent work.
It’s always said that Sabor A Mi is the panty dropper, but when Dan first sent me that song, and when he plays it for me, it had nothing to do with trying to fuck me.
No pretendo ser tu dueño
No soy nada, yo no tengo vanidad
De mi vida, doy lo bueno
Soy tan pobre que otra cosa puedo dar?
All that man has ever done is love me and treated me like a queen, and I’m sick of shitting on the life he has given me, and I’m sick of shitting on myself. as I’m preparing to enter my 30’s, I want to enter it as a woman who appreciates what she has and isn’t trying to run from it or destroy it. He deserves that and so much more…but I’ve still gotta figure something out. I really want to do something that hits the core to show him just how much I love and appreciate him.