Don't You Know It's Gonna Be Alright?

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and there I was in the passenger seat of a Nissan truck. My car wouldn't start, I'd just come off of my second 9-hour day of work, and I was averaging about four hours of sleep a night. The apartment still wasn't ready, I was running low on money and clothes, and I needed a shower.

But exhausted though I was, tired and dirty and distressed, I looked to my left. There was my beautiful boy, wearing his sunglasses and driving me to wherever I needed to be. I knew that no matter when I called him, he would come to my rescue, but to see it happening was entirely different. And tonight, when I come out of rehearsal, he'll drive me back to my temporary home, give me a kiss goodnight, and get ready to do it all again.

Love is an interesting seed. It can grow wherever it's planted-simplicity or adversity, good days or bad. It grows in the sunshine, the rain, and the cloudy days when the sky just can't decide.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.”
― Richard Siken

Exhaustion

It's not healthy to be this tired. After finally snuggling down and getting some decent sleep, my phone went off at 3am. My father, professional driver of many years, had run out of gas for the third time(that I'm aware of, anyway) this month. So away I went, driving twenty minutes to pull him off of the road.

He wasn't alone. A boy I don't know, and dad's little girlfriend. Instead of coming with me to the gas station, he sent her. A grown man tried to shield himself from anger using a 24 year old girl. It didn't work-I only became more frustrated. I was too tired, however, to give it much thought.

It was after I dropped her off and left the scene that I hit the deer. It made me furious. I hit the deer because my brakes are horrible, because I've been counting on his promise to fix them. I was out there at three in the morning, too tired to be driving, because he doesn't know how to manage his gas. And then, he wouldn't even bother to answer his phone.

Luckily, my car is an American-made trooper, and the damage is light. Somehow, the deer knocked loose the wire that turns on my dashboard lights. I'm missing a headlight, and the front bit will have to be replaced, but I've done it before. But it's money I don't have, and I'm not counting on him to help me. He never does.

I was so tired this morning when I woke up at six for work, that I attempted to start my car, only to receive a horrible grinding noise in response. I panicked; What kind of damage had that deer wrought? It was a few minutes later that I realized my folly. I was so exhausted that I'd forgotten that my car was already running.

Poor Orion. Soon, these long drives will be a thing of the past. Wear your scars with pride-Not every car can hit a full-grown deer and keep going the way you can. I swear, baby, I'll take care of you. And when I feel up to it, I'll even pull the deer fur out of your grill. But not today.

An Open Letter To The Boy Staring At Me In The Cafe

Dear sir,
I've noticed that for the past twenty minutes, you've been glancing at me a little more than I think may be necessary. It's the kind of glancing the movies have taught us to believe lead to a conversation, a date, etc.

While you are cute(even with your flip-flops and douschebag sunglasses), I'm afraid I must ask you to look elsewhere. You see, you are not the one who taught me the meaning of "Don't Panic", nor did you expose me to Big Brother. I've never leant you "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". On November 18th, 2011, you weren't by my side when my first play premiered. You were not with me in Georgia when my heart broke over someone broken.

You aren't the beautiful boy who wrapped his arms around me on a pleasant night while we stood in the gazebo on campus, or sat with me for hours after rehearsal and told me about your world.

Please stop looking at me.
Sincerely,
Cass

A Series of Stange Events

My tire has stopped deflating.

The tire, which has needed at least one trip to an air pump a day(sometimes two), has miraculously stayed full for three days. I think the small part of my ancestry that might be Jewish is kicking in.

I've also lost my father. Not lost as in "he's dead", but I can't find him. He doesn't answer the phone, hasn't paid the bills, and I'm lead to believe he hasn't been at work either. It's slightly distressing, because I do hate living alone, but hopefully my apartment and my beautiful boy will be waiting for me soon.

Life in Chestertown proves to be gloriously mundane thus far. I sat and waited for the drawbridge to come down today, and a song came into my head. It's from the soundtrack of The Hunger Games(I haven't seen the movie, but I've read the series at least four times). It reminds me of myself at this moment-going out into the world (almost) on my own. Yesterday, I was a kid dreaming about going out into life with sword drawn, hoping I'd win. Today, it's harder than I thought it would be, but I'm learning. They say you stop living when you stop learning, so at the end of the day at least I can confirm that I'm still alive.

"Eyes Open"

Everybody's waiting
Everybody's watching
Even when you're sleeping
Keep your ey-eyes open

The tricky thing
Is yesterday we were just children
Playing soldiers
Just pretending
Dreaming dreams with happy endings
In backyards, winning battles with our wooden swords
But now we've stepped into a cruel world
Where everybody stands and keeps score

Keep your eyes open

Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown
Everybody's watching to see the fallout
Even when you're sleeping, sleeping
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open

So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard
Every lesson forms a new scar
They never thought you'd make it this far
But turn around (turn around), oh they've surrounded you
It's a showdown (showdown) and nobody comes to save you now
But you've got something they don't
Yeah you've got something they don't
You've just gotta keep your eyes open

Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown
Everybody's watching to see the fallout
Even when you're sleeping, sleeping
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes

Keep your feet ready
Heartbeat steady
Keep your eyes open
Keep your aim locked
The night goes dark
Keep your eyes open

(Keep your eyes open [4x])

Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown
Everybody's watching to see the fallout
Even when you're sleeping, sleeping

Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open
Keep your ey-eyes open

The Alright Gatsby

Poor Gatsby. Climbs his way up in life, finds the girl of his dreams, then gives it up because he doesn't have money-then does everything to win her back and ends up alone and dead. Poor, poor Gatsby.

But maybe-and this is just a theory-he would have been alright if he'd stopped trying to force love into the box he'd built for it, and let it be what it was. When Daisy said she wanted to run away, that's what he should have done. When he forced her to say she never loved Tom, he should have accepted that it wasn't true. He got so wrapped up in making his own happy ending, he forgot to let himself be happy.

Semantics aside, the movie was a treasure. I walked in expecting my much-loved swing music and the usual array of camera shots. I was greeted instead by heavy party rap music(kids these days) and a constantly moving camera. It surprised me at first, but I understood over time. The director wanted to recreate the feeling of loud, semi-familiar music and everything moving too fast.

And for the love of God, will someone please get Leo his Oscar already?

I Like Metaphors

After a wonderful phone chat with my friend Keanu, I've decided that purpose is like a penis. No, really, I can back that statement up!

-Not everyone has one
-Those who have one don't always know what to do with it
-Some people would be happier without one
-Just because you have one, doesn't mean you use it
-Everyone wants to think it's big, but most are just average.

Sound logic, I think.

Keanu asked me how life was going. He's been checking up on me just about daily(and, given the past few weeks, I'm pretty glad about it), but last night was the first time he called. We chatted about things, and he asked me where I was working. But then, he asked me what my career goals were, what I planned to do with life. It kind of stopped me for a moment. I'm a housekeeper at a bed and breakfast, an assistant at a music store, and soon to be a secretary at our local college. I'm pretty happy with my jobs at the moment.

But then I wondered about the difference between contentment and complacency. They're different, to be sure, but how can you tell? I have goals. Not in my career, at least not yet, but I am striving for things.

Maybe that's the difference.

Recipe For Home

Cass's Recipe for simple stir-fry

1. Throw vegetables, imitation crab, and sausage slices into a frying pan.

2. Add copious amounts of soy sauce.

3. Attempt to boil rice in a timely manner.

4. Don't burn the stir-fry!

5. Also don't forget the rice.

6. Timing is key. Let stir-fry cook until slightly browned, let rice be rice-like.

7. Serve stir-fry over rice to beautiful boy that makes you forget about everything when he walks in the door and gives you that goofy-ass grin because you surprised him with dinner.

8. Don't forget to turn off the grill.

See? That simple. A can of veggies, a handful of fake crab, and some heat turn any night into a happy memory. Not that we're in lack of those-but they are harder to come by nowadays.

Life hustles and bustles and blows us down. Sometimes it's easy to forget the simple things; How much he loves a good meal, or the way he lights up when he sees that you've remembered him. It really is the little things that count, but sometimes we forget the big things too. I forget that neither of us has had a real home, and that we've lived alone for so long. I'd let life tire me out so badly that I'd forgotten what it feels like to fall in love with his smile, or the way he always comes out of the bathroom with his hair slicked back, or how when he leaves late at night and I tell him to let me know he's made it back safely, he always forgets.

The last few weeks have been rough, but it's taken us back to square one and reminded me of the things that shouldn't be forgotten so easily. I like to think I've learned my lesson, and that I won't forget so soon this time.