Apparently I have Cleithrophpobia -well according to Charm I do. I came home laughing last night, after work, about how dumb I was being all day. It was really weird but when I went over there to work the whole building is just manila colors. It pisses me off. Anyway my entire lunch break was spent trying to find all possible routes from here to there, mainly the quickest ways from getting outside to the file room or from up stairs to outside. All morning it was really bugging me that there might be a quicker way from getting from point A to point B. And I didn’t really think about it until Charm said something last night.
See, ol’ Gwin Tech’s a piece of shit school and if the buildings don’t fuck you up then trying to figure out why 700 hall crosses 200 isn’t gonna make any sense. But way back when Simon and I had English together he made it clear it was my job to teach him how to get around. Now, the Busbee center I got on lock down. I know how to get here to there in no time, which windows belong to what room, which parking lot which room is facing, and how to sneak around the back to come out at the kiddie playground and what not. At the time I didn’t really think anything of it. I do that, when I go into a building first thing I think of is which way’s the exit, which way’s North, where does that hall go, and usually I can map it out in my head without a problem. It’s why I was never late (unintentionally) in high school. I never got lost and I always knew the quickest ways to get in or out. Same when i’m driving somewhere. I know the direct routes, the quickest routes, and the back roads (maybe that’s just because I’m constantly having to be dodging but meh). So when we were in school he pointed out how funny it was I knew all these routes to get into the building. How I knew how to sneak in the loading door on the side to get to that small stairwell that can get you up stairs faster than going to the front and taking the elevator. He also remembered me pointing out the crawlspace thing in the ceiling that was actually an old fire escape that leads to the back bathroom, and the fact I know that there’s an old cut out door near the back of the porch that lets you get under the porch without having to walk all the way around the lattice like you would have to do on the ground.
I do this shit all the time. Like when I first came to Tucker I didn’t know shit, a month later I can recite all the street names, what’s around, how to go around back and not have to worry about the usually 5-0 spots. But I’m doing it all without thinking. Or like when we went out to Marietta. I’ve been there once! ONCE! AT NIGHT! And I can tell you how to get there, what’s to eat around there, how to get back, how to get over to the highway, I can even leave right now and take you right back to that same service station road and sit you under those same powerlines. That was at four in the morning kids! So why the hell can I do that but not remember simple algebraic equations?! It bugs the shit outta me.
So Simon thinks I’m this crazy, psychotic, paranoid chick when he’s the one with PTSD, NOT ME!! I just didn’t know if anyone else is like this or if it really is just me… It’s probably just me being mental. If it is just me that means so far I’m Megalophobic and Cleithrophpobic.
I know there’s really no since in me writing this, seeing as though he’ll never really read it and these guys and gals on here don’t wanna be reading this, but I just don’t know what else to do.
I’ve sat here, watching, listening, trying to be strong, trying to keep your mind off of it, but it seems like she can shoot down my attempts and beat you down even from across the ocean. Eight months ago I sat in English class swallowing my nerves to even squeak a hello to you and I don’t know if it was because of how great of a guy you are, how neither of us gave a shit what anyone thought of us, or if it was the random string of events that took place last fall that shoved us closer together, but I have never had a friendship take off like this. If anyone would have pointed you out and told me six months from September I’d be living with a six foot five, iron built Scot I would have laughed them off.
Dude, what you did for me in October and November is something I’m never going to be able to forget. When my options dwindled down to nothing, when my entire family turned on me, when I had my back against the wall you were the only one who gave me a way out. You opened your friendship, your services, and your home to a stranger, and eventually two. Even as tired and hurt as I ever was you were always there picking me up, dusting me off, sitting me back up with a smile on my face. I felt like a little kid learning to ride my bike, and you never once let me give up. That’s why I wanna be here for you, why I wanna help you get through this. I won’t let you give up, I won’t let you stop because as soon as you overcome this hill you’re gonna have the best of the best, because you deserve it. I’m gonna say what I’ve wanted to say as plainly and openly as I can think of it. You can take it, you can leave it, you can ignore it, you don’t even have to listen to it. She isn’t the only female out there man, there’s probably someone more fit for you, more perfect, more generous and gorgeous than she is, and she’s waiting on you.
What happened to all the hate held in your words when you told me about everything she had done to you? Did that just snuff out like the hope and smile you’ve carried around since I met you? Are you gonna let her smother you, destroy you? Don’t you see how she’s killing you, how she’s ruining everything you’ve built up? I’m not going into detail because your business is your own bro, but for everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve seen, all the shit that wakes you up outta dead sleep and has you shivering for hours in the kitchen, what has she done for you? How has she showed you she cares? Words are just words, just stupid text just like this, symbols on a page that don’t carry any heart, any soul, but when they’re backed with action, that’s when they mean something. You told me she never talked with you about the things the three of us do. Yeah T-bang’s not a girl but he’s close enough. How can you sit there and tell me she never once cooked you a meal, she never pulled little pranks on you, she never complemented a new hair cut (I miss your Scothawk) or a new shirt, she never took you shopping for you, she never made you a birthday cake?! The fuck?! Who the hell has never had their partner make them a birthday cake!?!
And you’re not crazy, you’re not losing your mind, what’s going on with you is completely normal. Thomas gets the same way, he has his nightmares, his shellshocked fits, you’re not the only one. We get it, we understand. Just like he says, it’s like getting reception on two radio waves at the same time, or the fuzzy in between pictures on the old tv’s. It doesn’t bother me to sit up all night watching the sun come up because you can’t sleep, because you’ve picked up on that channel again. I like learning to make pancakes at four in the morning or the rare occasion we’ve had to sit on the roof with hot chocolate only to have T-bang crawl up with a blanket and fall asleep. Lets face it, we’re all scared to be alone. I know I am, Thomas will tell you he is, Kp is, Jenny will blow her brains out if she’s in solitary too long, Nick has to be surrounded by people, Ruger can deal but if she doesn’t know she doesn’t have a place where she belongs… well, we all saw where that went a few weeks ago. We’re all a bunch of mixed up, weird, misfit junkies. That’s why we’re around one another, why we always keep so close. We’ve all been alone so long we need the small group we do have to be as strong as we have been. Every single one of us has been strong, if not for ourselves then for someone else. And you, you’ve been one of the strongest my man. That’s why every weekend we’re on the move, constantly. When was the last time we were asleep while the sun was around? We wake up before it rises and we fall asleep long after its set. And even after its gone we all pack inside and snuggle together.
But its starting to feel empty and a few of us are starting to panic. Kp’s going away for a while, Nick’s away for family, and Tom’s going back out in the field. It’s just me, you, and Ruger now with the occasional Jenny, Schooch, and phone call from Gang Green. And while Ruger’s at work and Thomas is gone I’ve watched you all day. I can tell you don’t see me, you can’t because she’s got control of you right now. I heard you talking to her on the phone this morning and I knew she was close to breaking you. You haven’t smiled, you haven’t laughed, its like you haven’t even breathed. You just move from room to room, like a ghost, trying to stay away from everyone. Ruger will be home in a few hours and I know what she’ll say. She’ll get scared because you’ve never been like this. I don’t expect you to smile all the time and I don’t expect you to take this easy. This is your life, your girl, your home, your decision. Just don’t feel like you have to stick around because of us. That’s the last thing we want, to tie you down and keep you from doing something you want to. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, what you’re having to give up either way, but I want you to know, no matter what you pick I’m gonna have your back. I’ll support you. You wanna go back to Skye, you can go, it’s a beautiful place. You wanna stay right here in run down Tucker, you can stick around, it’s not much to look at but every single one of us love the shit outta you.
I do want you to know what we’re thinking, what we’re feeling to see you like this. I know the reason why you’re as upset as you are, why you’ve been in your room drifting from being in tears to hiding in sleep. She’s done you wrong, more wrong than she ever could. You busted your ass, fighting for everything most of the world is too scared to. You even went as far as to chase a dream to a new place, a new country, where people scream at pedestrians from their cars for no reason, where we blare music through the house and don’t give a damn about who’s asleep and who’s not, who’s families are mostly shitty and would rather have a new car then the kid they were ‘cursed’ with, who bake firggin’ birthday cakes, and spend the whole day at the mall without buying a single thing, who drive on the wrong side of the road in ‘trucks’ and not ‘lorries’, who go to see ‘movies’ instead of ‘films’. You took the hard road and look how it’s paying off. You can be a teacher; you can be the best damn teacher this country’s seen (as long as you don’t rush your words). What does she know? Has she ever been to college? Has she ever sat behind the barrel of a gun? Has she ever made something for herself? NO, to all of it! Her only dream is to hold you down, to look good in front of your folks and try and make her own love her. And for her to betray you like that, to go slinking around with some other bastard behind your back, thinking you’d never know. No way man! No! She lied to you, she broke her word, she didn’t wait on you, she didn’t care. You heard your brother say it himself, and did she deny any of it? NO she didn’t.
So we need to get this hunk a new girly, someone as sweet as he is. Someone who’s gonna make him birthday cakes and laugh at stupid jokes, who can put up with his stubborn ways and flashes of anger, who can concentrate hard enough to pick his Scottish slurs out of his jumbled sentences and actually understand him. Show him what America’s got for him instead of that two faced, back biting whore (no offense love). You’s my brother Simon, you’s my best brother and I won’t have you in a slump anymore. I don’t know what else to do, what else to say, how else to let you know. Maybe you’ll talk about it when you’re ready, till then Imma be right here ready and willing to listen because none of us are ever alone. We’ve got one another.
2) Volume sky rockets as if a fighter jet has landed in the living room.
3) Usual 80% understandable English deteriorates to barely 12% quickly.
4) Words like “Fuck” “Bastard” and “Shit” become the only adjectives used.
5) Singing “Ring-ding didle iidle i de-o Ring dye didley i oh” while grabbing as much ass as possible (Don’t think you guys are safe, T-bang made that mistake).
6) If you’re lucky enough by this time not to have your ass grabbed you’re certainly the first one to be tackled onto the couch/bed for the most aggravating argument of why the smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke isn’t the only reason you’re not havin’ sex.
Tip: Be sure (even as annoyingly disturbing as it may be) do not let them outside for any reason. Passing out only takes a few hours, depending on said Scot. Also having a case of Irn-Bru will promise a safe, happy morning after for everyone :)
In other parts of the world my condolences go out to Japan ya’ll, even though I was the last one to hear about all of this considering the news doesn’t run in this house. As for Hawaii I’ve herd from a few ppl it wasn’t as bad, but still thoughts go out to ya’ll as well. Imma little worried because I got friends over in Cali and have yet to hear from them :[ so if anyone knows anything about them it’d be great if you could shed a little light on this poor, ignorant soul.
And what is this about people blaming this “supermoon” for causing all of this? Seriously? Supermoon?! Sounds like a Marvel reject. I don’t think the moon caused this guys, maybe the tides are a little up but I don’t see it making something like this. And didn’t we bomb the moon? What happened to that?
Whenever T-bang and Charm sit around and talk about their tours as a “bedtime story” I always imagine they were together, like wingmen or something. So when they’re telling me all this, this is how I picture it
DOC - CALLED - HIM - BABE
This is how it happens tho, we are lazy so we snuggle inside and Tom goes and gets us noms… then we all go to sleep
I’m such a fuckin’ girl. Imma draw a comic about them or something.
I touched a turn table for the first time last night… Jenny was on the keys. Nick leaves to go pick up some dinner so we started playing around. Two seconds in we’re synced on a beat, like making a song. Then we both realized it at the same time and kinda jumped away like
we kinda stood there for a minuet glaring at one another before we crept back over. After a gazillion spells of freaking out at how even MORE twinish we are on the tables Jenny turns to me and is lik “We could do this, seriously DO this.” And I’m like
So look out guys! There just myght be a new House Duo!
That’s the last time I go to bed before T-bang and Charm. That’s it. I’m done. I will force myself to stay up until I know they’re asleep and they won’t be waking back up until the sun comes back!
Either that or I’m gonna start askin’ questions when I don’t understand something. Because obviously “Elite” is code word and not a nickname. You see, when Tom asked “Hey, Charm, you gonna mind if I ask Elite over?” As we’re working on cleaning the dishes and Charms all down with it. (I actually think he’s on drugs or something because he’s always cool with everything. I mean we could run the jeep through the front door and he’d shrug it off like no biggie.) So we get done, watch Scott Pilgrim (which is THE SHIT y can’t life be that way) and fall asleep.
I wake up around six (because I’m cursed for living with a couple of grunts), stumble to the bathroom, come back out to make up my ‘bed’ and store it back in the closet, and I hear one of the blokes in the kitchen. Now, living with said grunts you never sneak around the house. That’s a no-no I learned the hard way. You will get tackled/pinned to the nearest wall/desk/floor/table in the quickest possible way. So before I ever walk into a room, occupied or not, I give out the “warning call” which is something like “comin in/comin’ round/or name of said room” and if the door’s closed its a “all clear?/clear?” So it’s pretty much a habit now. I even did it the other day when I went to a friend’s house when I went in the bathroom. You always get the oddest looks.
So as I’m coming into the living room, passing the kitchen, I call out “comin’ round” cause I was kinda going into two rooms at once. There’s all this chatter and my brain takes a second and I’m still trying to get my eyes to function this early in the morning and all the sudden there’s like a wave of “all clear”s. I’m talkin’ like tsunami of voices. And as I’m passing the room, Tom’s coming out of the living room. I stop, step back, and there’s the SF cooking breakfast in our kitchen.
MEN MEN EVERYWHERE!
A little stunned I slink back to the bathroom, get ready to roll out, and try and figure out where the hell all these dudes came from. Then it hits me. Elite… ELITE! KATIE YOU IDIOT! They are the elite! The Special Operations, Spec ops, The Green Berets, Masters of Chaos, THEY’RE IN THE KITCHEN MAKING BREAKFAST! So before I can completely freak out I sneak out (what’d we learn about sneaking?) get outside, and just as I go to get my van there’s another pack of “Elite” working on my van.
I know the water pump needs replacing, has almost a year now, but all the innards are all cramped up in the front under the tiny hood and to get to it you’d have to take out the radiator, fan, alternator, and quite possibly the engine. I don’t have time to get out there and wrangle with it, especially when I don’t really know what I’m doing. But there they are, friggin’ SEAL’s with my G20 jacked up, Sergeant Shirtless in the driver’s seat, three underneath, a couple under the hood. Parts are laid out on towels near the wall, front axel’s off, doors are open, and I think there was some Eve6 playing.
MY VAN IS BEING ASSAULTED BY THE SPECIAL FORCES AND EVERYONE’S OKIE WITH IT
I don’t even —so I’m stuck, sitting on the couch having to meet random high-fives from dudes I don’t even know. I just wanna know when they got here and how so many got here without me hearing… breakfast was good, they’re out back grilling and shit but if they set up the volleyball net I’m out there and I’ll show the “elite” a thing or two. They’re really nice, for the record, all I’ve gotten are “Yes ma’am/ no ma’am” all morning. They’ve got some really nice tattoos, I think I’ll sketch ‘em and post some… maybe I’ll be lazy and take pictures and post. Got my laptop so I don’t have to use Windows 98 over there. Wish me luck when Ruger gets home…