All That’s Fit to Print
I’ve been here in Rohnert Park, California for two months and a week now. I’ve done much and nothing at the same time. I got drunk for the first time, I got a job and I’ve turned around long enough to realize the bridge between my family and I is ablaze. I wish I’d have written about these things earlier so the memories were fresher and more detailed. I’ll do my best, at any rate.
The Cherry Jar Filled With Bicardi 151
On New Year’s Eve, Roman and I went to Daly City to spend the holiday with his friends. They are sweet, intelligent, lovely people. I sincerely like them. We went to Yoshi’s house (one of Roman’s friends, in case you’re not following me) and abstained from drink until we were playing Street Fighter Third Strike in the kitchen. Roman’s friends were loading him up on hard lemonades which he didn’t seem to be enjoying. (Later I found out that he had already had a few shots of something or other and had vomited.) I started drinking those as nobody watched so Roman wouldn’t have to. Then I spied this cherry jar filled with a liquid, turned red from the cherries. I drank the stuff from the jar simply because Roman’s friend, Catman, said it was strong. (Yes, I’m like that.) Ugh, it tasted like cough syrup! It was awful, but I wasn’t done yet! I proceeded to eat the cherries which were too strong for anyone else. They were good, though. When you first put them in your mouth, they taste bad but then they burn and numb your mouth. I liked that. I ate them steadily. Catman told me I had enough but that only fueled my determination to eat the cherries. I didn’t stop until Roman said I had enough. I repeatedly forgot that he said that and had to continually ask him if he said I had had enough. I was sauced enough to need help to stand up for the midnight kiss. That night was strange. The alcohol fully set in when we got back to Nilla (an old nickname for Donald) and Kenny’s apartment. Everyone kept having to make me sit down. I was very amused that I couldn’t keep my balance and continued to do it for the sake of fun. My body was numb. I fell and hit my head hard on a metal stool. I had a lump on my head for a week afterward, but at the time I didn’t feel a thing. It seems I’m a bipolar drunk: I start laughing at anything and everything, then I start crying and apologize profusely about what a terrible person I am and how I’m ruining the night for everyone. I think they just wanted me to shut up but were too nice to say anything. The next day, all this was water under the bridge and I got to talk to Nilla for a few hours as Roman and Joey (Nilla and Kenny’s little brother) played Tales of Symphonia.
Gainful Employment
I was having the worst of luck with my job search. One month into my time here and still no job or good job prospects. All decent jobs are reserved for people with experience. Experience is reserved for people with said jobs. Nuff said. Anyhoo, I finally decided that what Matt told me once was true: “You have to lie on your resume to get a good job.” So I did. I arranged for Pam to say I was her receptionist from July 2002-December 2004. Thank goodness she owns her own business. No sooner did I start passing that resume around did I get responses – lots of them! The first one, and it also seems the best one, was from a debt collection agency called Transworld Systems Inc. Yes, it’s a crappy, generic name, but who cares? The woman I contacted, Kathy Danelia, is a sweet woman who sounds like a throat cancer patient and looks just like my Aunt Paula. I like her very much. She interviewed me and I lied my ass off but I do that at every interview. I don’t think I’ve ever given a real anecdote at any interview I’ve ever been at. Ever. No matter, she liked me so much and was impressed by my stable employment history that she offered me a job the very evening that I had been interviewed. I started that job on January 24. What do I do? I am a “CMS Liaison.” I sit at a desk all day and call the clients of our company whose debtors are into
“hardcore collections” (just when the letters stop and you start getting calls) and retrieve either documents or additional info on the debtors so that we can track them down. This is a rather funny job for me seeing as I owe so much money it’s pathetic. Overlooking the sad irony, I make $11, get a guaranteed forty hours a week (8-5 Mon-Fri), full benefits after three months of service and best of all: it’s easy! I really do work harder than anyone else there. The other girls who have the same job as I all sit around talking and calling into radio stations all friggin’ day long. At least I have job security, right? The days move so quickly that I may soon be wondering where my life has gone.
Bridge Ablaze
Heartened by my success at my new job, I decided that I should take into my own hands the selection and purchasing of the furniture we’ll be needing when Roman and I get our own apartment. Ikea is in the East Bay, another area code from here and I was wondering if they had layaway. I was dialing my phone card in when I saw Jim’s phone number come in on the caller ID. I know Jim: he wouldn’t be calling unless someone was dead or there was bad news. I answered and told him about my new job and we chit-chatted until he told me why he had called. Matt, my brother, has been arrested on several felony counts dealing with Jenny and the rape/molestation/whatever allegations. His bail is at $70,000. At first I was aghast. How can Pam take it this far?! Her own flesh and blood! How HORRIBLE! Jim then told me that Jenny says that Matthew has been doing this to her since she was eight years old. At this point I couldn’t stop yelling or crying. I’m so horribly torn! Matthew would never do such a thing but Jenny has nothing to gain by lying. I believe them both. I don’t believe them both. I don’t know what to think. Jenny says she won’t testify. Damn it, Jenny has to testify! All she has to do is tell the truth and justice will be served, whatever justice may be. I still need to call Jenny and ask her. I shouldn’t have stopped her when Pam wanted Jenny to tell me what happened. Then again, if this is just another of Pam’s manipulations, I couldn’t have trusted that, either. I don’t know what to think so I try not to think about it. I love them both more than anyone else in the world, save Roman. One of them is a terrible human being, the other a tragic victim. I feel like one of those stupid people in a movie who has to shoot either their lover or an evil clone! Fuck, I don’t want this kind of stress. I don’t need it. I won’t try to think about it but I have to think about it. I’m going to lose one of them forever. On top of all this, Jim seems terribly depressed; worse than I can ever remember him being. When I first moved in with him, he told me several times that if I had not been with him he would have killed himself. I hope he was just being dramatic.
On the up side of everything, I’m happy here and glad I came. I think I’ll be happy here for many, many years to come.