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Monday, February 21, 2011

This song is not a rebel song...

This song is Sunday, Bloody Sunday.  And, as the records will show, Sunday, Feb 20th, 2011 was as bloody as they come.  At least in my tiny section of the world.  Mostly a day spent in the bedroom, crying, swearing, taking slaps and threats, trading war stories and reliving memories spent with others.  8am to 6pm or so... 

The headache that awaited when it was over was the stuff of legend.  Starved from food and caffeine and weak from all that transpired.  Know what?  Sounds like a great day to host a sleepover.  N, please, have your friend stay tonight.  It is only fair that she see the effects of 2 people battling and bruised look like.  Hey, ever see what it looks like to not eat or sleep for several months???  Take a look here.

Hey Catholic School girl?  Ever see what it looks like to lose 20 pounds in a few weeks and let all your hair grow, unable to shave???  In fact, I am certain if you ran by me the wind off your 60 pounds would be enough to blow me over.

I had made it through everything without tears and there was an effort to keep the strong veneer.  Um, so long.  I had made it to the point where I was hovering above the toilet convinced vomiting would be a welcome relief.  And somehow, this is progress.  Feeling has emerged.  Lying has stopped.  Things, in my eyes, are coming more into focus. 

Now, I would be naive (not unheard of) to suggest all is well.  No sir, that has not entered the picture.  Normalcy and overall good health?  They are several chapters ahead for sure.  For today, some Globetrotters at the Meadowlands, as a family.  A long drive to meet my folks at Cracker Barrel.  It was a civilized meal, and productive too.  N will stay there a night of two so T and I can get some work done.  And lest, we forget, Tuesday is therapy night.  We do not have to drag the little one along this time.  Thinking she is already seeing odd behavior at home...  does she really need to sit in the waiting room of our shrink too?  And we have already thought she holds a glass up to the door.  At some point I can hear her using something I said as a bargaining chip.  "Ah, dad, remember that time you said you were going to play basketball with me but you betrayed me???  Can I have a dog now???"

We used the Holiday well today.  It is a small step but important nonetheless.  The week ahead is full.  Tension is always looming and you must always be on high alert.  Must avoid a quick beer after adult hoops.   Must remember that the time you are away playing hoops is already in question.  The unannounced beer after hoops...  pretty much like having a live grenade duct taped to your balls...  as you are lay hogtied.

Get it together man!!!  Looking ahead to the weekend and there is promise.  Live music at the Bowery!!!  White Rabbits!!!  A chance to live like you want.  Seeing the City in ways other than labor.  Seeing live music!!!  The proper NYC.  The proper marriage. 

Can I possibly make it?  Right.  Must not get ahead of oneself.  Minute to Minute.  Day to day.  And, one could hope, a good night.

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