My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

So, somewhere in December while I was busy being astonishingly depressed, I got my fourteenth tattoo.

I was feeling particularly lonely, down, very uneasy about pretty much everything, kind of just staying “okay” as best I could from one day to another. The worst part was that I didn’t see many reasons why “tomorrow” would be any better. That is a really horrible sensation. I felt exactly like this tattoo and the song from which it came…

It’s my third Nirvana related tattoo, it’s my least happy tattoo, but it’s honest.

Thanks to my friend and fellow blogger, Ormolu, Kitty Jesus is now a religious icon…

I couldn’t be more pleased.

So, here are some pictures of my 28th birthday…

Me and The Senator at Czar

Me and the delightful Sarah at Czar

Me, Blue Boy and Tink at The Castle

So, I turned 28 last night, and I’ll be honest, I haven’t been at all happy. I planned to spend last night in a bad way, thinking about the year before, thinking about the potential joys of slitting my wrists, vertically, of course. However, a friend, a really delightful friend, insisted that we go dancing, so I obliged.  I figured doing the exact opposite of what I felt like doing was probably best.

So, we rang in the New Year at Czar, a fairly tame quasi-emo/goth club, but at around 1:30 AM we went to this ultra emo/goth club, The Castle.  I had to get carried up two steep flights of stairs to get to the dance lounge, but oh my Christ was it worth it.  When I die, wherever I end up, I want it to be like The Castle.  The place is every beautiful emo/goth cliche.  Between the smoke machines and the cigarette smoke, every individual beam of light was visible in the air.  Music so loud you could feel it in your chest.

Tampa has its share of “club characters,” one of whom is a fellow who likes to dress-up as Peter Pan, or Blue Boy. Last night, I finally met him, we danced to Dragula. After Pan, this totally drunk chick (who couldn’t dance) kept dancing with me, which completely pissed off her boyfriend.  He kept saying I wasn’t real.  He was especially unhappy when she lifted her skirt for me, which I also found a little untoward.  It’s interesting how something like that can either be spectacular, or spectacularly creepy, depending on the woman.

The evening kind of reminded me that I’m still me, I can still do all the crazy things I absolutely love doing. It’s really hard to remember that sometimes, but last night helped.

I don’t understand why the “film” Dungeons & Dragons got made, nor do I understand why Jeremy Irons was in it, nor do I understand why I watched the end in HD.

From a writer’s perspective, midnight mass was pretty spectacular. Personally, it was rather awful, I’ve never felt so lonely, but the writing material… Wow.

My mom was married to a fellow, Randy, for about ten years. This marriage didn’t go particularly well, by which I mean, it went astonishingly badly. Still, my mom and Randy get along much better not having to live together. 

So, Randy isn’t usually in town for Christmas, but this year’s different. Since he’s here, mom decides to invite him to midnight mass, and much to my surprise he actually says yes. He hadn’t seen the inside of a church for at least ten years, until tonight. He shows up at the house in a festive mood, but on the drive over it becomes apparent that Randy’s quite drunk. So, while we’re in church the sleepy part of being drunk starts to kick in, my brother has to keep kicking him to prevent his nodding off. During the communion he declares that he can no longer remain awake and has to go, now. Mom tells him to go nap in the van, my brother hands him the keys and he promptly does so.

After communion the mass is ended and it’s time to go in peace. Randy’s sleeping so peacefully in the van that he won’t wake up to unlock the van, which I find amusing, but not as amusing as when he does wake up and simply can’t figure out how to operate the locks, thus triggering the car alarm.

Obviously, we did get back into the van and we did get home.

Happy birthday Kitty Jesus! Next we get to celebrate Your Kitty Crucifixion and Resurrection.

I gather they’re re-airing the TAL episode, as I’m getting lots of new readers.

Wow, you people must be pretty fucking let-down. I’m sorry about that, on many levels.

Every single year, my family goes to midnight mass to ring in Christmas. This year, I think I’d rather eat glass, or read Dune than sit in church. I just don’t feel it. I also have absolutely no idea how to escape it.

Perhaps Kitty Jesus will show me the way, but I seriously doubt it, being that I’m not a kitty. I know Regular Jesus definitely won’t help me. Santa’s pretty useless too. I suppose death, taxes and midnight mass are just inevitable.

I have this tattoo, “Give me patience,” it’s an allusion to Palahniuk’s Invisible Monsters. The book meant a lot to me and I figured having those words etched into my arm would be good, as sometimes I feel really short on patience. I feel really short on it right now. The tattoo’s not giving me anything. I want things, simple things, but they all seem so far away just now. It’s astonishingly frustrating.

I’m wondering if patience would help me, maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe patience is just a way to pacify a person when they ought to fight harder. I really don’t know.