Mad Men s2e12: The Mountain King

“The only thing keeping you from being happy is the belief that you are alone.”

One of my favourite episodes right here, my god. Roger and Bert wrestle for a bit over the PPL merger, but come to an agreement. Meanwhile, Don disembarks from a San Pedro bus, the Pacific Ocean greeting him. Where in the fresh hell is he going?

Betty catches Sally smoking a cigarette in the bathroom! The horror.

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image courtesy of BurnThisMedia

Natch, Betty is more concerned with Sally burning the house to the ground rather than the fact that she was, you know, smoking an actual cigarette, but whatevs. Locking her in the closet as a temporary punishment, Sally shrieks that Don left because of Betty, because she’s “stupid and mean”. She doesn’t understand why Betty won’t let him come home. Looks like the idea of separation without telling the kids isn’t so hot, Bets. Kids are smart little people, they catch on to things..

Aaaaand, flashback! Picking right up from The Gold Violin, Don is at his shit apartment with the blonde woman; he’s been found out. She’s his wife — the real Don Draper’s wife, that is. He quietly tells her that he died, and that he’s sorry. That they got mixed up at the hospital, “I just had to get out of there”. He introduces himself as Dick Whitman, and she is Anna Draper.

“Well Dick, what do I do with you?”

Back to the present day, a door opens and that same blonde woman is behind it. Looks like he’s visiting Anna in California! Some weird kid is in the midst of a piano lesson at her house, rapping away at ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’. Don introduces himself as Dick, and right away, seems different than the guy we know from New York. Calmer, happier, a little more genuine.

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image courtesy of Fanpop

Almost immediately you can tell that he and Anna share a deep bond. She’s loving and sincere to him; Don is shaken and sad, not his usual bulletproof exterior. Unlike his home in Ossining, here he is welcome to have a shower and a lie down. No judgement from Anna’s end of things.

Infuriated that Trudy booked a meeting with an adoption agency behind his back (while receiving praise from Hildy), Pete loses his whole entire goddamned mind when he gets home. They have a yelling argument about it, he screams out “HELL’S BELLS, TRUDY!” .. And then he launches a fucking whole roast chicken dinner out the window!

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image courtesy of Giphy

Who on God’s Green Earth does that?? What a complete fucking lunatic. Iconic Pete Campbell outrage.

Collateral damage from the dinnerpocalypse, Pete’s father in law buzzes him at the office to let him know Clearasil is now under review. Pete ain’t happy about it and can see right through him, totally flies off the handle at Tom, tells him to pull Clearasil anyway. Probably for the best.

Adding to the “Greg is an Asshole Manbaby” report, he gets all butthurt that Joan tries to take control and give him a good bang. Ugh. It’s also implied that her sexual history is a problem for him, double ugh. More on that to come.

Post-shower and nap, Don and Anna chat on the porch. Anna is pretty much the only link to his past at this point, to who he really is. Don can be himself around her, let his guard down. He can say things he would never say to Betty. He can admit fault, he can talk about how he really feels without fear of tarnishing the image he’s so carefully curated.

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image courtesy of BurnThisMedia

Anna has always felt that they met so that both their lives could be better, which is a lovely way to look at things when it could have so easily gone south. At one point, Don is fixing a chair for her, unlike the one he failed to fix at Casa Draper.. which Betty ended up destroying. And it’s revealed that Don mailed that copy of Meditations in an Emergency to her as well.

“I have been watching my life, it’s right there.. and I keep scratching at it, trying to get into it. I can’t.”

Don doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be or what he’s supposed to do, or how to mend things; so he wanders.

Flashback to the Christmas Eve right after Don and Betty met, Don is in California with Anna. Don speaks of Betty in the lavender haze, talking about how she’s so beautiful and happy. “I just like the way she laughs, and the way she looks at me.” He expresses gratitude to Anna, how if it weren’t for Don, his entire life in New York wouldn’t be possible.

Anna reminds him that meeting Betty and having a family is a chance at a whole new life, a really positive thing for him. She is over the moon that he’s found love, but she’s got to grant him a divorce first.. just a minor snag! Ha.

Peggy’s Catholicism-infused Popsicle pitch goes perfectly. Virgin Mary-esque artwork depicts a holy mother granting a snapped popsicle to her kids, two equal pieces, love, all that jazz. She knocks the pitch out of the park. Don who?

Betty rings Sara Beth to yammer about Sally, but really she’s ringing about her pot stirring. She brings up the stables, and their conversation turns to Arthur. Acting as a confidante, Betty prods her for more information, then turns it on SB playing the morality card when she pieces together that they had a bang. SB is devastated that Arthur is set to be married that weekend and is absolutely sick over it; Betty relishes in it a tiny bit.

“No one made you sleep with him!”

DAAAAAAAMN. Way harsh, Bets. Guess that friendship’s over!

The gargantuan Xerox machine has finally outstayed its welcome as Peggy’s officemate. Time for something better. At the end of the day, Peggy asks for Roger’s blessing to move into Freddy’s now vacant office, feeling deserving of it due to the Popsicle success. “You young women are very aggressive. There are 30 men out there who didn’t have the balls to ask me!” Amazing. Her wish is granted! Moving on up.

Joan’s fiancé Greg meets her in the office to head off for a dinner date. Vexed by Roger knowing that she doesn’t like French food, he strangely feels the need to assert himself as the alpha male in her life, and the one in control of their relationship. And in one of the most upsetting and shocking scenes on this show, he pins Joan down to the floor of Don’s office and has his way with her right there on the carpet very much against her wishes.

She tells him very clearly to stop, but he rests on the idea of “this is what you wanted, right?”, referring to the other night, showing her who’s really in charge. Gross. As she submits and stares off into the distance, it’s utterly chilling. Where is that perfect life she had envisioned for herself, marrying a doctor and living happily ever after? Greg is seriously so fucking vile, a truly subhuman trash heap. After she spruces up, they head off to dinner, roses forgotten on her desk.

Don yaps with some car guys, expressing an interest in building custom cars, working with them. There’s something about that all-American blue collar life that magnetically draws him, and he’s flirting with staying out in California. Maybe he can reboot his life out there. He introduced himself as Dick, trying it on for size. Again, his demeanour is different than the Don we’ve seen, he’s more at ease; a happier guy on the outside.

Kinsey is back, turns out Sheila dropped him a few days into their trip down south, shocking nobody. He and the junior execs are all pissed about Peggy’s new office, especially Harry. Tough titties, Harry.

As Peggy is moving into her new office, Joan lets her know the nameplate will be changed out ASAP, and chats about her wedding a bit. She seems envious as Peggy is moving up the ladder, and Peggy seems wistful that Joan is getting married.

In Ossining, Betty tries to have a more adult conversation with Sally about what’s going on at home. She speaks to her simply, that she and Don are “having.. a disagreement. And he went away.” Betty admits to Sally that she doesn’t know where Don went, which is pretty unsettling. Just then, Betty notices she’s lady bleeding.. not good.

Congratulating Peggy on her new digs, Pete confides in her that Don disappeared in Los Angeles. She expresses worry while Pete wants to talk shit, which is pretty typical. I feel like she reminds him to be less of a dick sometimes. Tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.

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image courtesy of EW

And there goes Don, ruining a pair of khakis and a perfectly good leather belt in the Pacific Ocean.

“Let Roger Sterling have what he always wanted– to die in the arms of a 20-year old.”

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Mad Men s2e11: The Jet Set

“Cheers to our guest.. to not being carried out in a box.”

Ah, post-bang poetry by Jane, partially inspired by being 20 years old, mostly inspired by drugs. Roger wants to marry her, he believes Jane is the key part of life he was always meant to have. Mona is gonna give him hell in the divorce proceedings.

Duck has been at Sterling Cooper for about 2 years now, and is expecting a partnership in return for his work with them. Roger does not agree, tells him to go out and make it rain if he wants to move up in the ranks.

So, Duck takes a meeting with Sinjin Powell, an old Putnam Powell and Lowe buddy from his days living in London. He falls off the wagon straight into a gibson, then takes their temperature on buying out Sterling Cooper. Duck knows Roger is in a compromising position as Mona is about to bankrupt him, so he’ll be able to force their hand. He wants to have Creative reporting to him, as President Duck. Fascinating..

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image courtesy of Not Great Pod

Like his luggage (no thanks to TWA), Don is lost. Squinting by the pool in the stark Los Angeles sunlight, Donald Draper grey suit uniform intact, he looks distinctly out of place. He chides Pete for treating it as vacation, and tells him to go out and make some connections pre-rocket fair, really make an impact. Once he’s changed into some new clothes, he sees a vision of Betty at the bar, breezing right past him.

Just then, Don encounters some absurdly attractive Eurotrash nomads. There’s Willy (with a very complex name), his wife Rocky, and a young lady named Joy. They seem magnetically drawn to Don, but when Pete shows up they can’t get away fast enough. A thing like that!

The rocket fair has begun, and it’s The End of The World presentation. Don and Pete watch slides about missiles being launched at the USSR, about how the USA could knock out the entire country if need be. “Total annihilation”. Don is wholly rattled by this idea, this intense escalation.

Back in the sunshine, Don runs into the exceedingly young (and aptly named) Joy at the valet pool. Suddenly, he decides to take her up on an impromptu trip to Palm Springs to some stunning, palatial flophouse she and her hot companions are crashing at; Pete is left poolside with some potential clients. He’s really up shit creek in LA, because the guy can’t drive.. thanks for that, Don. And there’s no taxi that will take you to Pasadena, Pete.

Once they arrive in (very hot) Palm Springs, Don falls over poolside. He’s collapsed from heat exhaustion, and comes to surrounded by Euros in expensive threads. “Who are these people?”

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image courtesy of Tumblr

Dinnertime. Don makes the mistake of verbally assuming they’re all well off, and is met with dead silence. He fits in with them aesthetically, but the actual lifestyle part of it? Not so sure. Are they con artists? Gypsies? Simply evading taxes? On the lam? Don impresses them when it comes to the city capital word game, at least. Then Joy locks onto his face like Alien in front of everyone and then drags him inside for a bang, claiming she’s 21 when he asks.

Who makes out at the fucking dinner table, anyway? Teenagers, that’s who. Gross. Damn kids.

Like most teenagers acting more Grown Up, Joy is pretty much intolerable, with her “I like sex” tryhard garbage pillowtalk. She talks about school in vague terms, and Don picks up that she’s younger than 21 but at least in high school. And then, it’s revealed that Willy is her father making everything infinitely weirder, during a morning-after still-in-bed conversation with him. “I make beautiful babies, don’t I?” He doesn’t want people thinking he’s old. How about N O P E.

Word gets out that Kurt and Peggy are going to see Bob Dylan together, much to everyone’s surprise and delight. Is it a date?? Adorable. While he gets a good natured ribbing, Kurt doesn’t see the humour and casually lets it drop that he’s a homosexual. Record scratch. Most are shocked, Sal raises an eyebrow then averts his eyes, there’s some bizarre homophobic comments, and Peggy isn’t ruffled. They keep their date. Sal is hurt by Kenny’s instant aversion to Kurt’s admission.

Kurt heads over to Peggy’s place. She lets him know that if he would rather take a man to the concert, she gets it; “I don’t know why I pick the wrong boys”. Sensing she needs some friendly advice, Kurt lets her know she’s a touch old-fashioned in the looks department, gesturing at her bangs and curled ponytail. Peggy is sort of resistant, but then she lets Kurt hack a a bunch of her ponytail off with a pair of kitchen scissors. And what do you know, it looks great! Much more modern. Fresher start for Pegs.

Joy invites Don to run off with her and her band of nomads, and though it’s realistically what he yearns for in life, he’s hesitant. Methinks he’s a man who wants to do it on his own terms. A gentleman shows up with a little boy and girl, and Don is suddenly brought back to a splash of reality, his own kids and marriage. The guy is going through some shit, referencing attorneys and how awful everything is. Holding a cracked glass in the pool, Don knows he’s gotta split.

Duck receives a box of Tanqueray, presumably from Sinjin over at PPL. Chewing on a lifesaver, he heads to Cooper’s office to share the news. Putnam Powell and Lowe want to open a New York office to service the American clients, and Sterling Cooper is just the place to do it. Bert is exceedingly pleased that the man he’d heard so much about has finally shown up; looks like Duck needs the sauce to be a more effective, ballsy businessman.

The next morning, Don rings someone from Palm Springs. He identifies himself as ~Dick Whitman~ to the caller. He notes down an address in the very back of Joy’s copy of The Sound and The Fury, tearing out the page after. Where is he headed?

Back home in Ossining, Don’s suitcase shows up at the front door. Nobody’s home.

“He likes having you around. You’re beautiful, and you don’t talk too much.”

Mad Men s2e10: The Inheritance

“It’s not easy for anyone, Pete.”

An LA trip is looming! Looks like Pete and Kinsey are going to Los Angeles, due to a hookup from Crab Colson. Time to hit up the JPL Rocket Fair. The Space Race is on!

Trudy is strongly suggesting her and Pete adopt a baby, and he ain’t having it in the least. His WASPy mother certainly won’t have it, after Bud let that tidbit ‘slip’; Pete retaliates by cooly letting her know her assets are in the toilet on his way out. So bitter, but his parents never seemed to treat him all that well anyway.

Betty’s dad had a stroke, turns out it isn’t the first time either. Thanks, Gloria. Betty phones Don and they drive to NJ together the next day, keeping the appearance of normalcy as best they can. Gloria answers the door in an outrageously absurd cocktail dress with a mammoth foofy hoop skirt, 1955 incarnate.

Every scene with the Hofstadts is strange, with an easily detectable tense undercurrent between everyone. It’s a family on paper, but there’s no discernible warmth to speak of; Betty is excluded from things here, just as she’s excluded from her own life by Don. Maybe her father Gene — apparently a strict, traditional guy.. fining his kids for small talk — is what she wishes Don would be like around their kids. (Y i k e s….)

Her family resents her for moving out of NJ, but it doesn’t seem like they’ve given her any reason to stay. Her brother William is a fairly unpleasant guy, making jabs about New York and Don having mad cash. Rude. He also sheds a little light on how Gene’s been acting as of late, apparently he’s been ‘off’ for a while now. They are both concerned about Gene, and show it differently. Betty slips into the childlike loving daughter persona, excited about milkshakes and the like, whereas William tries to be in charge.

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image courtesy of BurnThisMedia

But Gene’s got Don’s number, and berates him in an outburst during puzzle time.

“Who knows what he does, why he does it. I know more about the kid who fixes my damn car. Nobody has what you have. You act like it’s nothing. He has no people! You can’t trust a person like that.”

That night, though they share Betty’s childhood room, Don gets to sleep on the floor. They disrobe in silence, and a few hours later, Betty comes down to the floor with affection. She realises she holds the cards right now, and uses it to her advantage. They have a midnight bang on the floor, and Don wakes up alone in the AM.

Gene is all mixed up at breakfast, and mistakes Betty for her (dead) mother and gropes her right there in front of everyone, the harsh morning light filtering in. Everyone is in shock, Don is completely horrified; good lord that’s a lot to handle. Gloria insists they have another doctor’s appointment lined up. Good GOD.

Thankfully Viola shows up to talk some damn sense. Turns out Betty’s childhood nanny still pops in to take care of the house, and Gene. Instead of just acting like things are normal when they’re anything but, Viola sees through it.

Viola: “He’s very very sick.”

Betty: “You don’t know how nice it is to hear someone say that.”

Viola: “The minute you leave, you’ll remember him exactly the way he used to be. It’s all good outside that door.”

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image courtesy of Coco hits NY

Viola reminds Betty that it’s her responsibility to take care of her husband and her children, for they are hers. It’s OK to move forward and to love what you have, to remember the better times, but all it does is remind Betty that everything is in shambles. She breaks down and cries, truly at a loss.

Back in Ossining, Don gets the boot from his house; Betty curtly tells him that they were only pretending. Things are still as they were, so he heads to the office a day earlier than expected. Everyone is throwing a baby shower for Harry, another guy who’s uncertain about the reality of kids as much as Pete.

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image courtesy of Imgur/my own nonsense

Bert Cooper pops into the shower for one of the more bizarre moments of the day.. and everyone raided the store room with ‘gifts’ for Harry and Jennifer’s impeding arrival. Kenny gifts him with a massive stack of Playboys, as you do.

(Offices in the 1960s aren’t that dissimilar from offices today; any excuse to have a party where you eat some form of trash cake from the grocery store.)

Don changes up the plans and decides he’s heading to LA with Pete, axing Kinsey from the trip. Roger gives him his blessing with a vaguely icy exchange; things aren’t exactly healed there just yet.

Joan gets to publicly ask for Kinsey’s credentials back during the baby shower, and relishes it. Kinsey frames it well to Sheila, trying to mend their spat earlier in the week when Pete let it rip that he was headed to Los Angeles. He made it sound like it was his idea to ditch the LA trip (LOL) and ends up heading to Mississippi to fight for civil rights alongside her, likely irritating the shit out of everyone around him.

Everyone’s loaded on punch post-shower, heading home for the day, yet Pete lingers. He’s a little tweeked about flying to LA since his father died on American Airlines Flight 1, but that’s not really the root of his issue(s). He may never truly grasp why he doesn’t get what he feels entitled to, and on top of that, he may never understand how grim it is for everyone who doesn’t have what he has in the first place. Pete’s got some privilege, everyone. Peggy handles his “woe is me, first world problems of the now” drunken schpiele fairly perfectly. She is friendly and cordial, actively listening, but keeps him at arms’ length. Probably a good idea, Pegs.

Hey-o, Glen Bishop shows up at casa Draper, having run away from home a couple of days ago. Glen has been crashing in Sally and Bobby’s playhouse in the back yard. He hasn’t seen Betty for ages, and is in need of some kindness and attention. He insists that he’s there for her– “I came to rescue you. We can go anywhere, I have money!” His name is Don, etc.

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image courtesy of BurnThisMedia

Once Sally and Bobby get home, she does the right thing and rings Helen Bishop knowing she’d be worried about him. Betty endures his child wrath as he spots his mother in the foyer, feeling betrayed and shrieking that he hates her. Betty responds calmly with, “I know”. Maybe it’s some catharsis for her, some link to the way she thinks Don feels about her. She accepts it.

After things quiet down, Betty and Helen Bishop have a moment in the kitchen. Helen admits her shortcomings as a mother in the wake of her divorce and new boyfriend carousel, which compels Betty to share the news with her. After all, Helen is a divorcée; Betty confides in her that Don isn’t living with her anymore. She’s unsure if it’s forever at this point.

Helen: “Is it over?”

Betty: “I don’t even know.”

Helen: “That’s the worst. For me, it wasn’t that different without him there.”

Betty: “Sometimes I feel like I’ll float away if Don isn’t holding me down.”

Helen: “The hardest part is realising you’re in charge.”

On the plane, and true to form, Don just wants to watch the city disappear behind him. Time to get the hell out of Dodge for a bit to recalibrate.

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image courtesy of Fanpop

(Fun fact, the guitarist from The Tornadoes is George Bellamy– the father of Matt Bellamy of Muse fame. Not bad!)

5 Years in LA: A Rare Personal Post

We create our own demons.

(Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a quote from Iron Man 3, but bear with me here.)

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Utah rest stop view. pretty boss.

My 5-year LA-iversary is today, and I felt it fitting to jot some personal nonsense down in here. On this day, I rolled up to my new home and life right around .. now. Living here has been a formative experience, and I was a different person when I pulled out of the driveway of my NJ childhood home in 2011.

Looking back on my 20s and my formative years has always been mortifying, to be completely honest. I read and reflect on the things I used to feel, things I used to care about, and the shit I used to say and how I treated people and I am mostly .. upset. Not that I was ever some monstrous lunatic hellbent on world domination, but I definitely could have treated people with more care. I took things and people for granted, I lived my life recklessly and did whatever whenever (within reason, obvi).

And if I’m being realistic, I don’t regret most of it; after all, that’s what your 20s are for. But if I could go back in a time machine, I’d be kinder. That’s really the only thing I’d change.. more patience, more kindness. It’s one of the notions my mother stressed as The Most Important Things in Life, and of course she’s spot on. I guess being a human dumpster fire was my way of rebelling for whatever unknown reason. Looking back and surveying the damage was daunting.

Now, I know none of this makes me some ~unique snowflake~. Nearly everyone I encounter is horrified by some aspect of their past; I felt the need to write because I’ve never talked publicly about any of this. I play everything pretty close to the chest. I’ve touched on it, sure, but never gone into any sort of detail.

This all started partly because I’ve been getting a lot of emails/actual mail about my 10 year (!) college reunion, which was last weekend. Generally irritating, but also a fact of life; college is a time that I do not wish to be reminded of in the least, but I feel compelled to reflect. I graduated in 2006, and never looked back. Even with my BA in hand, I generally felt like a listless shitperson next to my classmates with business degrees and jobs lined up. Me? I was going to work at The Gap, and take it from there. Christ.

I mostly remember my graduation day as a day of people being mad at me, and they weren’t really wrong for that. I was also voraciously hungover and it was hotter than actual hell outside; one of those thick, soupy-dank east coast summer days.
So! At 22, I had my degree and no real Plan(TM) except to not be in college anymore. I think about the way I avoided everyone and everything on campus after my volatile relationship self-immolated and some tenuous-at-best friendships went south, and I feel mostly embarrassed by it now. I shut out the few friends I had on campus, my lifelong friends from home really didn’t know what was going on either because it was just a goddamned mess. I was friends with some vaguely toxic people, and rolled with the punches.
It was all ~so dramatic~ but it was one of those really intense relationships with a really intense person. Good learning experience, very bad timing and everything else. Everyone’s got one of those people, and it preferably happens in their late teens/early 20s so they can get the fuck on with real life afterwards.
My version of this trope had a bonus; pile on Actual Heavy Things to Deal With as a late teen/early 20-something and it turned into fucking Hiroshima. Truth was I had no clue what the hell I was doing and chose destructive ways to get on with it and move forward because I frankly didn’t know any better.
dog_thisisfinefile footage of me circa 2002-2008. image courtesy of Tumblr

 

This continued for a bit in some form, then I got a full time job doing tech support for The Fruit Stand, and things seemed to even out for a beat before the roof caved in. When mom died, I was 24 and overall a human mess who was working 70 hours a week.
And then the 2008 stock market implosion happened and I lost that job shortly thereafter, as did most everyone else I knew. I remember it vividly, it all happened over the course of about a month. Everyone seemed shaken, like the earth had suddenly stopped rotating and we all fell over, powerless and drawn back home. Looking back on all that, it was a really healing time for me in the midst of all this massive uncertainty. Tons of people I knew had lost jobs and had to move back to where we grew up, and it became a bizarre remix of high school all over again. Bittersweet, but fun.  I feel like this is what saved me.
During this time, I hung out with some really nice people, reconnected with old friends, and went on some really nice dates, but I was so fucked and in this black hole of a headspace that any perceived kindness sent my way I instinctively read as false; really fucking cringeworthy.

2010 in particular was a strange year of unemployment and anxiety and stress framed with a lot of fun, late nights, and coming back out of my shell thanks to actually being close with people again. Slowly but surely I felt like I had value again, and that I was someone worth knowing.

At this point I was beginning to excavate my core so I could get back to being a Human Lady in a Society of Rules. I had no fucking idea what my next step was, but I knew I needed to change. I started surrounding myself with positive people and genuinely made every effort to be less awful. I axed trash people along the way and felt free.

Moving to Los Angeles has given me the rare gift of forced perspective that I badly needed, and I hope it’s not too late. I laid really good groundwork in NJ, but blasting off out of my comfort zone was that final push I needed to vaguely get my shit together. Or at least impersonate someone who had their shit together.

For all intents and purposes, I’ve lived a charmed life. Nowadays it’s trendy to talk about Privilege(TM), but brass tacks– what could I possibly have been so fucking unhappy about? I grew up in a really great area, surrounded by a rotating cast of good people who stuck by my side for nearly 27 years. I never had anything truly horrendous happen to me, yet I was lost.

I have wonderful parents, a strong family support system, and friends who feel more like family since we all grew up together in multiple senses. And yet, I had this lethargic rancor eating away at me. For whatever reason, in spite of all of this, I shut off at any sign of closeness. Maybe it was the past relationships gone sour, maybe I got too into my own headspace. Maybe I had focused on the wrong things.

It hits me in waves to this day, how many fucking great friends and family I’ve got, how lucky I really am. It sincerely overwhelmed me at the wedding last year, all that love and kindness. Why did I push it away with both hands for so long? The hell was that all about? Awkward.

As I dug deeper, I had longed for something indescribable. I always felt hollow at the end of the day, some static hum. I would stay up all night because the morning sun made me feel better somehow, a habit I picked up in the depth of being a college shithead with too many feelings/no feelings at all. But when I eventually started to turn shit around in 2009 and firmly place my gaze toward what was in front of me, that was the turning point. Suddenly a weight had been lifted, like mom coming back to me and saying, “knock this shit off already and get on with it”. Guess I was finally ready to listen.. and somewhere, mom is replying, “about fucking time”.

Driving out to California was more cathartic than it was intimidating or sad. It’s been a second chance, a clean slate for me. I met my husband here, I’ve been able to start relatively fresh these past 5 years. I’ve been faced with my own bullshit, felt it all, and essentially gotten on with it with confidence. Taking ownership and responsibility for past garbage behaviour has been equal parts humbling and uncomfortable. Shedding any lingering negative people has helped as well.

When Nick and I met at San Diego Comic Con in 2011 and I soon figured out that he was more than some one night rando to add to the carousel, I was objectively fucking terrified. I had a terrible track record with prior relationships, and generally felt inadequate in that regard.

When someone says enough nasty mean-spirited shit to you, friends and exes alike, you start to believe it. I absorbed it all, though I tried my best to be Teflon. But as I reflected and shared all the good, the bad and the ugly with him and received acceptance and love, I was fucking stunned. Everything just turned to colour.

So, what the hell does this all mean? How can I wrap this up neatly? Truth be told, I can’t. Just gotta keep on going.

We create our own demons, but there’s so much more; we’re in charge of our own future. Shape it into whatever the hell you want, and try your damndest to allow the past messes to impact you positively.. and always be kind*. That’s what I’m taking away from it all, and what I’ve been working on this past half decade.

 

Thanks for reading this mess.

 

*(unless the person is a maniac asshole, then they should be shot into space.)