My Landlord and His Leaks

Last week my upstairs toilet broke. No, I didn't do anything weird to it, it sprung a slow random leak from the pipe that connects the toilet to the wall, and thankfully the leak was slow enough not to do any damage to the floor. Recently I lost all of my phone contacts, including my landlord's number, so I shot him a quick email. Knowing it's the holidays and he might not get it until the new year, I shut the water off in the bathroom and got back to life. I mean, there are two other toilets in my house for crying out loud, and I am one tiny little single girl!

This morning I received a frantic call: (As you read this, imagine the strangest, most robotic voice ever.)  "KJ, this is your landlord. I've just finished reading your electronic mail (yes, this is what he called it). Why did you not call me?"

Me: "Well landlord, as I explained in my note, my phone was stolen, my back-up failed, and I lost all of my contacts. But no worries- I shut the water off and figured it could wait until you had time to stop by."

Landlord: "But I only just got your electronic mail because you never called, I mean, what will your mother think? (Yes, my landlord has an intense fascination with my mother...has even been known to call her if I don't return his messages in a 'timely fashion'.)

Me: "Landlord, it's fine. When will you be coming by?"

Landlord: "1pm"

12:59, he arrived. My landlord is obviously a strange man, but he looks even stranger than he acts. He's short, stocky, has hair that desperately needs a trim (think Beatles in their heyday), and often wears clothes that don't exactly flatter his figure. Today he had on a white undershirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

As soon as he walked through the door- I saw it. A giant wet spot covered his crotch. Now, I've seen men who didn't properly shake off the access, and had a small spot or two...but this was a really big spot!! Not a 'I've totally just peed myself' spot, but a 'Oops, I didn't even bother to give it a little shake before stuffing it in my pants and clearly deciding not to wear underwear' kind of spot.

I immediately averted my eyes and tried to stare at the wall.

Then, I heard a voice, and in my mind I was positive the wet spot had begun talking to me: "So, you haven't had any psycho boys in this house lately, have you?"

My eyes popped forward again, and I realized it was indeed my landlord speaking instead of the pee stain. Me: "4 last night...but only 3 were really psycho...that's ok, right?"

My landlord has the sense of humor of a basketball hoop. He simply snorted.

I ducked into my office while he went about repairing the toilet. A few minutes later he appeared at the door.

"Your leak is fixed, is there anything else?"

Fighting every urge to say: 'You might consider fixing your leak', I smiled and said everything else was fine.

Landlord: "Next time, make sure you call me so I can arrive quicker. I wouldn't want your mother disappointed in me."

He spent a few minutes asking far too many questions about my mom (My mother is genuinely freaked out by all of this, in case you wondered.), and he eventually left.

I checked the bathroom to make sure both leaks had been properly contained and hadn't made their way to the floor, and then allowed myself a few seconds of painfully...uproarious...laughter.

2012

2010...The year it all happened to me.

2011...The year 'I' happened to me.

2012...The year 'I' happen to IT ALL.

I've just spent the last hour sitting in the empty third bedroom of my house sobbing uncontrollably over an empty dog crate screaming, "GIVE HER BACK TO ME!" to...I don't know...God? Myself? That dark empty space in time where things don't always go the way we wish they did? In the end it doesn't really matter...she isn't coming back.

Instead, I'm left with memories and the faint smell of her soft fur on a tiny stuffed bunny.

2010:  I accepted there was nothing left to do to save my marriage, loaded up my car, and drove halfway across the country to live with my mother. Weeks after arriving I learned I had to have major abdominal surgery, which took me three months to recover from. During the recovery period, I was told I most likely had breast cancer. Many procedures later, a mass was removed from my left breast and I was informed I was cancer free. Days later, my niece passed two weeks before her due date. I was there for her delivery, and spent the next month grieving with my sister before giving the eulogy at the baby's memorial. The entire time, I was fighting back and forth with my husband, begging for a quick and easy divorce.

2011: I got my divorce. I lost everything financially in the process, but I got my divorce. I rented a house, broke up with the piece of shit man I dated during my recovery and began the process of healing.

About the time I took my first breath in over a year...my best friend, my dog, died unexpectedly from a brain tumor at 5 years old.

Yes, it's a dog. I get it. But in my eyes- she was the child I never got to have, she was the friends I had left behind with every move, she was my closest family, and the one who had comforted me through my darkest days. Nearly four months later, as I finally begin moving her things from their original spots, as I take down the mountains of framed pictures and little shrines I set up around the house...I realize it isn't just my best friend I am grieving...I am grieving all of the things that didn't go the way I wanted them to.

And I have to admit...it feels good. Really good. As a strong, independent woman it's often difficult for me to really grieve. I'd rather move on to the next thing and bury my feelings (lest anyone judge me or think me weak). I am not weak. I am human. And it's ok to mourn the loss of a dog as I would the loss of a family member.

If you break a leg, and I break a finger...should my finger hurt less because it's a smaller bone? No. Pain is pain. Period.

However, I do not see 2011 as a year of pain. It has been a year of recovery. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. It's been a year of discovery. Who am I when I stand alone? What do I really want now that I have an open road in front of me and can walk in any direction I choose? What makes me happy? What do I want to do today, tomorrow, ten years from now?

How very exciting, how very frightening, how very challenging to discover these answers and a thousand more.

Today I am sitting in a beautiful three bedroom home I decorated on my own with furniture I bought with my own money. I am paying my own bills and making my own choices. Yes, I'm stumbling from time to time, some days I make everything more difficult, some days I get it right. But what matters is that I'm finally doing life...my way.

My therapist asked me to create a metaphor for the last 2 years of my life: "It's as if I was tied to a train track and the world's longest freight train was rolling over me. Every time I tried to sit up, I was knocked back down." "Then what?" She asked. "Then...one day the caboose rolled over me, and there were no more cars. The ropes fell away and I stood up." "What did you learn?" "I learned that I am so much stronger than I could have ever imagined."

2012: Some say our time will end. I don't believe this. For me, my time is just beginning. It's a new era, a new way to exist, a new me. I'm finally accepting the things I can not change. I can not bring my dog back. I can not blink my eyes and be a happily married mother. I can not create the perfect partner or a storybook life. I can not give my sister her baby back, I can not take away her pain. 

What I can do is make each day as meaningful as possible. I can grieve, cry, let go, and move on. I can dance alone in my living room for hours, or play guitar badly and loudly without judgement. I can capture the world in pictures, and express myself through my art. I can find ways to do the things I love and share my gifts with others. I can relax, enrich my mind, body, and soul...and become a better person. A person I would want to spend the rest of my life with. I can tell my family I love them.

Every day I can find one hour in which to do one thing that makes me...me. I know my truth lies somewhere between the tragedy and the comedy of the last few years. It lives in that small space inside of me that is grateful for every railcar that drove over me, for every mistake, for every judgement, for every hurt that brought me to the place where I can scream and cry as the sounds of a piano rise from the speakers below, and know I'm ok.

This is ok.

2010...the year I am grateful for.

2011...the year I am even more grateful for.

2012...the year I can't wait for.

The First Rule of Fight Club...

Earlier this week, I decided to take another one of my 'secret trips' out of town. This time, I headed south to one of my favorite cities...Austin.

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you might remember me mentioning my friend 'D'. D has danced in and out of my life for the better part of 15 years, and I'm quite certain that if I were handed a Benjamin every time this guy broke my heart, I would be pushing something resembling 'rich' any day now.

D is in Austin for the month of December shooting a movie and invited me to come and stay with him during the days that he wasn't filming. My first instinct upon receiving this invitation was to calmly and clearly scream, "FUCK NO, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" But, the cooler side of me kicked in and I instead politely reminded him that after having spent nearly the entire month of October with me- he had failed to contact me once until now...essentially making me his Texas booty call.

And while there are many 'Texas' things I am very proud to be...a booty call ain't one of them.

We talked for a long, long time and he explained that the reason he had backed away so suddenly was because of his own fear. We had "become so close in such a short time" that he panicked (his words here) and his 'self preservation kicked in' causing him to push me out of his mind. You see, D has issues with the tragic loss of his mother when he was younger, as well as the difficult ending to his marriage a decade ago. Now he keeps everyone in his life at arm's length to avoid feeling pain. Or so he claims anyway. (Still smelling that 'booty call' thing are ya? Yup. Me too.) There really is truth in much of this, but we all have issues...you just have to find who's issues yours play most nicely with. And the other thing about issues is that they can suddenly disappear when you truly care for someone deeply enough.

After several calls over several days, D finally convinced me to make the trip down. It really wasn't that hard...a kick ass hotel in a kick ass town, meals on him, and a chance to get caught up on some holiday shopping? I'm in! (OK, that's bullshit. I did no holiday shopping- I did however buy myself a crap ton of clothes and shoes!)

As I wheeled my bag into the lobby of the hotel, there stood D...waiting. He greeted me as though my ship had just arrived from Iraq after a two year tour of duty. For a minute- I believed this guy really had missed me! Then, I remembered it's D...actor extraordinaire.

Night one was awesome- dinner, wine, tons of laughter (this guy can make me laugh like no one else on earth). Chemistry, chemistry, chemistry. Back at the hotel- we had our 'talk' again face to face. Lots of apologies from his end, and a great number of excuses for his behavior. I bought every tenth word or so.

Day two we shopped, then had dinner with some of his friends and their awesome mom, Kat. Day three was supposed to be my day to return home, but I was talked into staying one more night to see a local legend in concert (SO glad I did this!!!).

Ahhh...yes, Day Three. This. THIS...was a good day. We spent the entire day downtown browsing shop after shop. We had an amazing meal, just the two of us, and headed to the venue to meet our friends and their mom.

At some point during the evening, we all ended up in a back alley (holy cow those Austinites can put down the Mary Jane!). Kat, remarkably high on her medical marijuana, decided to lay into D like no mother has laid into her non-child before. It. Was. AWESOME!

Kat: "D- I need to talk to you. I've been watching you with this girl for the past two days- and you guys have serious chemistry. It's the real deal. And I've decided- if you two break up, we are keeping her- not you."

D: (wide-eyed) "We aren't a couple."

Kat: "WHAT?! Are you insane?! Don't be stupid D- this girl is special. You won't find this again. People wait their whole lives to find what the two of you have- this is real. You two are a comedy act...you should take this show on the road! I'm telling you...don't let this slip you by. You will regret it."

Me: (cough, cough, elbow, elbow, mild foot stomp)

D: (eye roll, puff puff)

And then...then...it hit me. I looked D straight in the eyes.

Me: "You know, I am special. And this is something that could be real. But if you are too stupid to get that...then you aren't my guy. Or at least a guy that I would ever want. Bottom line, if you can't see what you are missing by not being with me- then quite frankly...I don't want to be with you."

(Fight Club reference time...)

I am KJ's self confidence returning.

The following day D walked me to my car and kissed me sweetly goodbye. Leaning forward, he whispered confidently in my ear, "I know what you're wondering...will he call?" I delicately whispered back, "Nope. Not really."

Austin...I sure do love that town.