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Mercedes Benz…

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz?

Janis Joplin and her Mercedes Benz…

Of course, my pity me, pity bee self, let those lyrics set in my heart at a young age while I licked my “How many licks does it take to reach the center of a Tootsie Pop?”

Joplin was amazing.

A white chick who could wail like a black chick and gained kudos beyond the norm for being a white chick who could wail like a black chick. Meanwhile the black chicks who are the backup singers to the white musicians remain in the background, behind the lines of the white musicians who need their sound to cross barriers and bring in more buyers of their records.

Tina Turner was amazing as she wailed out in front while her backup singers remained in the back. The black chicks that is…

‘Nuf said.’

So…

Back to asking for that Mercedes Benz…

The ONE and ONLY, THE LEADER OF US ALL, the one otherwise known as JEHOVAH, YAHWEH, ADONAI, GOD, THE ALMIGHTY…this stops here (Current thunder and lightning storm taking place and it is not wise to anger the ONE who controls the weather). Well he’s not giving me a Benz, nor am I asking for it. What I want, what I really want, and yes, I’m telling you, is a grand piano.   piano-1522856__340

 Sigh…

I’ve been teased by three grands over the years.

The first was a Bechstein, when the company was in NY, before the rents went up. It was a lower end model, selling for $8k. I let it go or rather it let me go, for when I decided yes it was the one, someone else bought it then mom, my mom, became sick…very sick.

SOLD

The second was a Mason and Hamlin which sat in a church collecting dust in the corner. I begged, tried to borrow, could not steal- everyone. No loan, no piano. It was bought the next day and ended up on Craigslist a month later selling for $15k. Duh…

SOLD

The third piano, and yes this is it. No more searching, do, did, done. Nunca más.  The heart (mi corazón) cannot allow false hope (esperanza)  to take hold only to dissipate into steam, traveling upwards towards the sky (el cielo) , out of reach, out of sight, out of mind. piano-1655558__340

Sigh…

This time, it was a 5 foot 7 Steinway grand, placed on Craigslist and discovered while scouring the job market ads. The address on the ad was located five blocks up from where I live. Yes, my neighbor who moved here twenty years ago before the gentri came, when it was cool and hip to live here, when the rents were under $2k…enough…is currently selling their 5 foot 7 Steinway grand for an unheard of price.

Bubble gum wraps!!!!  (Not the words I prefer to use but profanity is such a cliché reaction-whatever)

Sigh…

No funds reserved in a savings account, in a 401k fund, in a money market, in an overseas bank account, in a CD, in a mattress or under it, in a silver plated box buried in the backyard, or in a sugar daddy’s pocket. My salary will not cover the cost of the piano, as the salary itself is a joke because I work with others who make way more than me for doing way less.piano-2412403__340

Go figure.

Borrowing the money to pay for the piano is akin to hitting lotto’s biggest jackpot. So close but yet so far or rather I pretend the wasted money I used to purchase the lotto ticket  will bring me riches as I do not know a soul who would lend me the Benjamins, period.

So…

Getting back to Janis with a twist:

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me, my neighbour’s Steinway?

My friends play Bosendorfer’s, I must make amends

Worked hard all my lifetime, switching careers back and forth

So Lord, won’t you buy me my neighbour’s Steinway?

piano-2173426__340

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Forgive and forget…no

How does one forgive when the hurt is too great?

Raised up in a Catholic school environment from first grade onward, I believed to forgive was to let go of the hurt inflicted from another. Forgiveness was akin to confession. You acknowledge the hurt, let it go and move on. The party who wronged you would be grateful for the forgiveness and be forever at the mercy of the one-you- who afforded them a respite akin to what HE almighty would have given them.

Bull to the s**t!

Forgiveness comes back…to bite the hand that you thought forgave ya.

Yeah.

I can rant and rave ‘bout the many who wronged me, done me no good and I carry on saying, “I forgive and forget”, mind you, I did do the forgiving, but if you thought I forgot what you did to me when I was down and out…you got another thing coming.

I do not forget.

Nor do I easily forgive. images

Why?

Cause the damage you inflicted upon me is as bad as your thoughts on the tattoos that grace my body.

You can look at me and smile, meanwhile in your pigheaded brain you’re like, “Damn what the F… Why did she go and ink herself up?

That’s what so called forgiveness is for me. I can look at you and say, “It does not matter. What’s done is done. I forgive you and let’s move on”.  Meanwhile my imaginary daggers laced with the venom of angry queen bees is right above your head awaiting countdown to launch!

Yeah baby!

Forgiveness is earned not given.

I earn my race medals through practice and hard work. Not by the magic words, “I forgive you”.

I train, practice and work out what fits in and what needs to go.

If only FORGIVENESS were that simple.

 

***image from the www

 

I no longer have a heart because Pi took it with him…

October 24, 2016 at 12:30am Pi Patel, at the age of 12 passed on.

He took his last breath, in my arms wrapped in a towel after receiving Propofol followed by Euthosol. He went quietly and at peace. The laboured breathing became soft and even and the discomfort/pain dissipated as his body shut down.

On the third day of his pass, I still grieve. Not as hard as day one when I returned home with Pi’s leash and harness but no Pi. The tears and physical stress were non-stop, to the point where my eyelashes turned inward and prick at my eyeballs. I learnt on that first day at 3am, it’s better to cry standing up rather than lying down, for the phlegm building up in the sinus’ does not drain in rhythm with the tears streaming down the face. Too painful to lie down so I stood in the kitchen and cried.

The steps of grief are making their appearance against my will.

It starts with…

Bargaining

I bargained with HIM to bring Pi back and of course he has yet to do so. I stopped drinking wine a couple of days prior to Pi’s passing because the consumption was becoming excessive. I blame HIM because I feel the help given to stop drinking came with a cost-Pi’s Life! Please, please, please bring Pi back and I’ll return to drinking and consume three bottles a day!!!! 1522175740119

Bargaining TO Anger

For a vet nurse the signs leading up to Pi’s critical status should have been obvious. WHY didn’t I see it! Too busy drinking wine to notice? He was lethargic, did not want to walk, had loose stools, relieved himself on the kitchen tile.

Well…

That’s normal for Pi, except the relieving part. That’s it. Didn’t pay attention to relieving himself in the kitchen. I WAS NOT OBSERVANT ENOUGH! I LET MY OWN DOG DIE AND DID NOTHING TO SAVE HIM!. Should have questioned his doctors more, more testing, more bloodwork, more and more and more…and it still would not have saved Pi.

Anger TO Depression

dscn0030I miss him so. The pain and longing is unbearable. Prior to the euthanasia, I rubbed Pi’s head, inhaled his scent, over, over, over and felt his breath short and shallow on my cheek, over, over, and over. DID NOT WANT TO LET GO. He shivered and I held him tighter, trying to feel the little bit of warmth left in him. He was cold, weak and terribly uncomfortable. He needed to go, to get away from pain and I had to let him go.

Depression TO Acceptance

He’s not here at home with me and in two weeks time he will be home again-this time in an urn.

Ashes to Ashes

It’s easy to accept, yes, my dog is dead. Cold, heartless, steel, jagged edges=DEAD. My dog is dead and that’s that, over and finished. All that’s left in this house right now are his bed, bowls, leash, harness, tags, shampoo, medications, vitamins, lentil food sitting in the fridge, full bag of kibble, towels, winter clothing, booties…and his SCENT. I sniff his bed as much as possible. I miss him so and so and I’m so…  pi-patel

ANGRY

DEPRESSED

ANGRY, ANGRY, ANGRY.

So Angry I could scream!!!

But instead…

I CRY in the supermarket

I CRY walking Toby

I CRY looking at his pictures

I CRY, CRY, CRY…   img_1118

I no longer have a heart because Pi took it with him.

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