(no subject)
Sep. 24th, 2008 02:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sandandwaterI detest feeling restless and useless on top of that.
[locked to those that know what happened]
I was sick of Cait's bedroom after a few days and now I'm sick of my entire apartment. Pretty much disgusted with wandering around Ro's as well. I want to do something, anything that resembles my normal routine and yet--I can't.
I want to work in my studio but I know better. I'd only be asking for trouble at this point and I've never been one for safety hazards when blowing glass. Too many things can go wrong if you aren't focused. It's safe to say that my mind wanders a lot lately. Any little thing sets me off and I can't seem to ignore the constant worry and fear, the feeling as if I am going to jump out of my skin at any moment.
Then there's the matter of...my hand. I don't want to look at it. It's hideous. I get nauseous every time I catch a glimpse of it. Of that side of it. If I can't look at my hands, I can't work the glass. It's really that simple. And to be honest, I'm not even sure how I'm going to be able to hold the rods and pontils, the blocks...balance is SO very essential to what I do. Did. Balance and steadiness. It's the difference between excellent artwork and a damned mess. I won't spend my time creating anything less than the forms I see in my mind's eye. I just won't.
I'm afraid to go back and find that I'm not capable of adjusting.
The same can be said of work at Last Call. Mike has said time and again that I don't have to hurry back, whenever I'm ready he'll put me on the schedule. I want to work. I miss it. I miss the staff, the regulars, even most of the music. At this point, even karaoke nights sound appealing. I know, too, that Mike's having to juggle all of the things he hates about running a bar. The things I always handle. Dealing with the vendors and suppliers, payroll and scheduling. The tedium of owning a small business. All things I can pretty much do by rote these days and I actually enjoy most of it.
But then I start thinking about all the questions people will have. The stares that I know will come. And I have no idea what to say to them, should I say anything or let the idle gossip run wild? People are going to talk no matter what, I know that but I really wish they wouldn't. Staff, the regular customers and acts, the new patrons...and it's the unknowns that frighten me too. I don't feel like I can trust anyone I don't already count as a friend.
[locked from Rory]
And the nights Breaker Street play there...they have always been my favorite nights to work. Always. You'd think that having Ro there would make me feel better, but the truth is I don't think I could bear to be in the building while they play their music. I haven't been able to listen to anything of theirs since--
I hate that I can't stand to hear Ro sing. I never realized how often he hums random tunes as he does things or sings under his breath, but he does. And it's all I can do not to scream at the sound of it. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! That's all I think when he starts and it breaks my heart as much as it turns my stomach.
I can't tell him this, I simply can't. How can I, when so much of our relationship has been built around his music, his band...he's a singer, it's what he does and it's what he's so very good at. And I'm proud of him but I just can't listen to him any more. What if I never can? And it's not that I don't think he's talented or that the band isn't amazing. Rory is and Breaker Street are and I really want to be supportive of them, I do. I just can't hear their music without remembering what he did.
I haven't even been able to make myself bring them up in casual conversation with anyone. I've tried. The words just stick in my throat. Me. The band's free PR campaign girl. And I can't find it in myself to speak about them.
What if he doesn't want to be with me if I can't share in that part of his life any more?
[/locked from Rory]
I refuse to even think about after closing. I know that Mike isn't about to let me do that alone any more. And I know Ro wouldn't let me even if Mike did. It's the thought of walking out of the bar and into the parking lot that makes my chest feel tight and I forget how to breathe. Alone or not, I'm not sure I can do it.
So where does that leave me? Not in my studio and not at work. Home. Going stir crazy.
Maybe I really should do what I was talking to Bobby about and go back to Venice for a while. I'd love to see Alessandro. I'd love to be in his studio and I know that he'd help me figure out the solution to my problems there. I've always felt safe in his capable hands and if I have to relearn anything, there is no one I'd rather have teach me. No one. Only, I don't know if I could leave Ro even for a little while. And I certainly don't know what I'd do with Mr. Beaker. I can't take him with me and subject my poor puppy to quarantine like that.
I wish someone would just tell me what to do.
[/unlocked]
Aryn, do you want to have lunch sometime this week?
[locked to those that know what happened]
I was sick of Cait's bedroom after a few days and now I'm sick of my entire apartment. Pretty much disgusted with wandering around Ro's as well. I want to do something, anything that resembles my normal routine and yet--I can't.
I want to work in my studio but I know better. I'd only be asking for trouble at this point and I've never been one for safety hazards when blowing glass. Too many things can go wrong if you aren't focused. It's safe to say that my mind wanders a lot lately. Any little thing sets me off and I can't seem to ignore the constant worry and fear, the feeling as if I am going to jump out of my skin at any moment.
Then there's the matter of...my hand. I don't want to look at it. It's hideous. I get nauseous every time I catch a glimpse of it. Of that side of it. If I can't look at my hands, I can't work the glass. It's really that simple. And to be honest, I'm not even sure how I'm going to be able to hold the rods and pontils, the blocks...balance is SO very essential to what I do. Did. Balance and steadiness. It's the difference between excellent artwork and a damned mess. I won't spend my time creating anything less than the forms I see in my mind's eye. I just won't.
I'm afraid to go back and find that I'm not capable of adjusting.
The same can be said of work at Last Call. Mike has said time and again that I don't have to hurry back, whenever I'm ready he'll put me on the schedule. I want to work. I miss it. I miss the staff, the regulars, even most of the music. At this point, even karaoke nights sound appealing. I know, too, that Mike's having to juggle all of the things he hates about running a bar. The things I always handle. Dealing with the vendors and suppliers, payroll and scheduling. The tedium of owning a small business. All things I can pretty much do by rote these days and I actually enjoy most of it.
But then I start thinking about all the questions people will have. The stares that I know will come. And I have no idea what to say to them, should I say anything or let the idle gossip run wild? People are going to talk no matter what, I know that but I really wish they wouldn't. Staff, the regular customers and acts, the new patrons...and it's the unknowns that frighten me too. I don't feel like I can trust anyone I don't already count as a friend.
[locked from Rory]
And the nights Breaker Street play there...they have always been my favorite nights to work. Always. You'd think that having Ro there would make me feel better, but the truth is I don't think I could bear to be in the building while they play their music. I haven't been able to listen to anything of theirs since--
I hate that I can't stand to hear Ro sing. I never realized how often he hums random tunes as he does things or sings under his breath, but he does. And it's all I can do not to scream at the sound of it. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! That's all I think when he starts and it breaks my heart as much as it turns my stomach.
I can't tell him this, I simply can't. How can I, when so much of our relationship has been built around his music, his band...he's a singer, it's what he does and it's what he's so very good at. And I'm proud of him but I just can't listen to him any more. What if I never can? And it's not that I don't think he's talented or that the band isn't amazing. Rory is and Breaker Street are and I really want to be supportive of them, I do. I just can't hear their music without remembering what he did.
I haven't even been able to make myself bring them up in casual conversation with anyone. I've tried. The words just stick in my throat. Me. The band's free PR campaign girl. And I can't find it in myself to speak about them.
What if he doesn't want to be with me if I can't share in that part of his life any more?
[/locked from Rory]
I refuse to even think about after closing. I know that Mike isn't about to let me do that alone any more. And I know Ro wouldn't let me even if Mike did. It's the thought of walking out of the bar and into the parking lot that makes my chest feel tight and I forget how to breathe. Alone or not, I'm not sure I can do it.
So where does that leave me? Not in my studio and not at work. Home. Going stir crazy.
Maybe I really should do what I was talking to Bobby about and go back to Venice for a while. I'd love to see Alessandro. I'd love to be in his studio and I know that he'd help me figure out the solution to my problems there. I've always felt safe in his capable hands and if I have to relearn anything, there is no one I'd rather have teach me. No one. Only, I don't know if I could leave Ro even for a little while. And I certainly don't know what I'd do with Mr. Beaker. I can't take him with me and subject my poor puppy to quarantine like that.
I wish someone would just tell me what to do.
[/unlocked]
Aryn, do you want to have lunch sometime this week?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ooc
Date: 2008-09-24 01:52 pm (UTC)Re: ooc
Date: 2008-09-24 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:45 pm (UTC)Do you have anywhere specific in mind?
no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:49 pm (UTC)Do you want to come out to Staten or would you prefer somewhere in Manhattan? Jaques is a favorite of mine on the Upper East Side (www.jacquesnyc.com)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 11:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 10:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-24 11:28 pm (UTC)If...if I did go back to Italy for a while, would you mind looking after Mr. Beaker for me? You don't have to feel obligated, I know my place is out of the way for you really and I don't even know if you're allowed pets in your building...but he knows you and I hate the idea of leaving him in a kennel.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 02:56 am (UTC)Do ... do you know how long you'd be gone? If you did decide to go, I mean.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 03:08 am (UTC)I really don't know, Ro. I know you have other obligations and commitments because of the band...I can make other arrangements for the dog, okay?
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 03:22 am (UTC)*soft sigh* Mr. Beaker is not the issue, love.
I don't want to lose you ...
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 03:26 am (UTC)I'm sorry, I don't mean to be difficult. I don't even know what I want.
You don't have anything to lose.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 11:28 pm (UTC)Pippa, love, you're not being difficult. You've been through a horrifying experience, and you should do whatever you need to to find some healing.
But I want to help. I want to be there for you.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-25 11:46 pm (UTC)Healing? I just want to get away from everything that reminds of--
I hate this, Ro. I hate it. I'm terrified of doing the things I want to do and not doing them leaves me feeling useless. I am useless.
I'm alive but I'm not living.
Being dead would have been easier. Wouldn't hurt like this.