I think I might have a problem. I've been crying a lot. Like ALL THE TIME. I swear, the only times I don't cry is when I'm at work, eating and sleeping. And even then, just this past week, I've crossed those lines. I've been crying while I'm at work driving around, even when I'm sitting next to Buck on the couch (I don't let him notice), I've woken up at night crying, I'm crying right now, I have even been crying everyday at the GYM for the past two weeks. I'd be cycling my butt off on the stationary bike and all of a sudden get the urge to cry. I've lost 8 pounds as well, though my kick ass routine at the gym is probably the cause of that. Crying in the middle of the night, though, is a new one. I havn't done that since my emo, train-wreck teen years. I am not feeling real fatigued or tired, just weepy. I wouldn't even say I'm sad! I feel great physically and I feel beautiful and in control of what money I do have. But I have an idea of why I'm crying.
I've been reading a lot of literature concerning grief and mourning so I know all too well that we can mourn a symbolic loss just as easily as we can a physical loss. An example of a symbolic loss would be anything from losing the sense of friendship to losing your sense of femininity after a masectomy. What makes it harder is that the grief experienced is not understood socially because it's a personal symbolic loss and many people usually misinterpret the grief as someone just not handling it very well. It hit me this morning when driving home from the gym: yet again, I was crying uncontrollably and trying to sift through the reasons why in my head.
My theory: The crying really got worse after my 6 month anniversary with Buck. We didn't celebrate it or anything and to be honest I don't think he knows it's been six months, but with every monthly anniversary we have, I notice I get more weepy. This month has been by far the worst. I think the closer and longer I am with Buck, and the more comfortable I feel with him, the more I start to wonder why I had ever lasted so long with Poodle. It actually makes me mad that I've never been this happy with Poodle, yet I stayed. Even after so many years, I never felt this comfortable around him as I do with Buck. And I'm not saying I'm going to run off and marry the guy and I feel great that there has been no pressure to do so. I'm really enjoying my time with him and his family and it feels great to actually feel protected and cared for. Buck is so excited about crafting fire pits and selling them, he's been drawing up new patterns and ways to customize each fire pit, and it makes me think, Poodle was NEVER this excited about anything other than his video game. So I think I'm mourning a symbolic waste of time. About 7 months since breaking it off with Poodle, I still catch myself saying "kiss kiss" to Buck on the phone. I still pick up my phone after taking a shower at night thinking I'm going to call Buck, then realize I don't have to, he's waiting for me down stairs and not 1,500 miles away! I've actually caught myself several times wondering when I'm going to schedule my next flight, and what type of new clothes I need because it's cold in Delaware, just to realize I no longer have to schedule flights and dish out $400 every 3 to 6 months. Next year, some time in March, Buck wants to take me to Tennessee, to visit Nashville and go sight seeing, and ride trains. Did you know Poodle NEVER took me anywhere just for the hell of it? I don't know when this crying shit is going to end, I hope soon so I can get back to feeling normal.
So I think I am finally getting comfortable with hunting vocabulary, both the field and firearm terminology. I've learned through watching the kids last time what NOT to do and how not to behave. I'm getting pretty used to a rifle's recoil, and I know the difference in the kick between a 30-06 and .270, and I definately prefer Buck's bolt action .243 over his dad's .243 automatic. I'm at that point now where I don't have to trail Buck up and down the aisles at Gander Mtn. as he looks over the big game rifles. Now, I may not know what everything on the tag means, or how powerful that one might be over that other one, but I can meander by myself and relish in the fact that I know just about as much as that stocky, biker dude's 8yr old son standing behind his dad poking the taxidermy skunk. However, I still very much prefer curling up on the couch to watch a sappy Lifetime movie, as I reminded Buck yesterday when he proceded to cuddle up behind me on the couch to a DVD compilation of Rock Crawler Tournaments and stunts. I did watch it with him, but later that night he began playing a DVD on his laptop (during my lifetime show!) of common coyote distress calls, in which he then started to imitate with his new hunting whistle thing. The thing was friggin loud, shrill and obnoxious. I gave him a hint on where he should shove it and I turned the volume up louder on the tv just as the crazy babysitter bitch bludgeoned her boss' perverted co-worker with a shovel. I loved the last hunting trip, although I believe this next one next weekend will be a lot more sedate since I won't be sharing the deer stand with two restless and chit-chattering brats.
The best thing just happened!! I've been laid off!! Beginning January I will no longer be on call for that other part time job with that company in the Galleria. I will no longer need to make the treck into town on my day off just to sit in a cramped skyrise office with the AC blowing snow flurries down my neck. I will no longer want to peel my eyes out of their sockets from peering at a computer screen covered in a flourescent glare. But...I will miss the additional $750 a month. It sort of made all that nonsense worth it. The funniest part of it is WHY they are laying me off (and it's the other part-timers too): Their number of clients have skyrocketed! They are doing great! They do business in both the US and in Canada! I never really liked what they did though...I sort of felt like a crotchety old hag could do my job better. I'm too young and active to sit and wait for the phone to ring on my weekend to work. I always had to make sure I brought my laptop with me no matter if I went to the mall or out to eat, it was ridiculous. And on busy weekends with the funeral home, I was so frightened that the blackberry the company provided for me would ring. Atleast when I'm on call with the funeral home, all I have to bring with me is a pen and paper. I'm hoping to receive a raise with the funeral home, or even go full time by the beginning of next year. Money is going to be real tight, but I think I can make it work if I reduce miscellaneous purchases.
I'm 21 years old and have already been LAID OFF!! Now THAT's an accomplishment.
Some pictures from the Deer Lease this past weekend. I had a great time! I like it more than I thought I would, and I was friggin' awesome! We weren't seeing a lot of deer but we had promised Tobi we would bring he back some meat for processing, so Saturday night I shot a pretty good size doe. I shot it right above the shoulder to explode the heart, killing it instantly. It dropped immediately. We took it back to camp to clean, skin and gut it then packed the meat into a cooler. Everything will be used for meat except of course the guts. The next morning we went back to the same stand. I had taken some allergy medicine so my eyes were getting real heavy. SAP ALERT: Buck tucked an arm around me once I fell asleep and let me rest on his shoulder for about an hour while we waited for the sun to rise. As soon as it became light enough so that we could see the feeder we began to hear the deer walk out of the woods all around us, gathering beneath the feeder. Then out came a really nice looking, mature buck, atleast six points on the horns. Since I had shot the doe the day before, it was the nephews turn to shoot. Trace is about 8 or 9 years old. At the last second he backed down and wanted me to shoot the buck. I think he knew he would miss. He's a little gun shy because the last time he tried to shoot the scope hit him in the head, and he missed completely. Still, I was so happy he let me shoot it! My heart was racing while I was lining up the crosshairs on the shoulder of the buck, the last thing I wanted was to miss and lame the deer. It's only fair to kill it instantly. I pulled the trigger and the buck dropped right where it was under the feeder. The other deer scattered. About 30 minutes later we walked to the feeder to look at it, and to my surprise, it was a 9-pointer! YAY! I had hit it right in the shoulder and killed it instantly, like the doe. Again, we took it back to camp to skin and clean it. Buck and I are keeping the meat to get it processed into sausage and steaks. Buck is also going to skin and boil the head so I can have the complete skull and horns, which Buck is going to mount for me. YAY! Here are some pictures, but a warning: if you don't want to see dead deer, don't scroll down completely. Something else I forgot to mention, there was another smaller buck that walked out on Saturday night. I didn't shoot it because it looked real young.
Buck is very talented when it comes to behaving like a primative neanderthal. He could easily take care of himself if he had to live in the wild, as long as he was supplied with ammunition and bug spray. He took me on a hog hunt this past weekend at his uncle's lake property. After fishing all day and catching nothing but four sun perch (and I'm certain it was just one foolish fish) we returned to the truck where he took his .243 rifle out which had been buried beneath the .410 and .22 he had also packed just to be safe. We walked a bit until we came to the first feeder and sat about 70 feet away from it. His uncle told him that it would be fine if he shot a couple hogs as they were rooting around his property and making a mess. I think we sat there for an hour and a half and not one hog showed up, even after the feeder went off and littered the ground with deer corn. Even though we had completely covered ourselves with Deep Woods Off, the mosquitos were still swarming us, not biting, but just being pests. Then Buck did something that caused chills to run down my spine: he cupped his hands around his mouth and squealed like a pig wrestling with another one. It was haunting and surprisingly really loud. I'm a bit ashamed to say it but it was a huge turn on for me. I don't know why but it was just too hot. We got fed up soon after and went to Whataburger, bringing the food back so we could sit on the dock in the middle of the lake and eat it while watching the sunset. Surprisingly, it was his idea.
For the first time in about two months I actually get a real day off. Tomorrow I get to sleep in late (7am) and take my time eating my cereal and sipping my coffee. I'll actually have time to watch the news long enough to get a decent weather report, then it's off to the gym! I miss my days off and being able to spend hours at the gym if I want to. Tomorrow I think I might stay at the gym for two whole hours instead of the mere 45 minutes every morning. Usually, on Thursdays, I help out at the K's by washing their three outside dogs and cleaning the three bird cages. The cages are gross and ant infested and the birds are terribly unhealthy and mean. They are alot better off than they were before, however. It takes about 2 hours to do all that, but if you include the time that it takes me to shower the grossness off me and nurse my allergies and bug bites, it's a job that takes more than half the day. And I can't relax and take my time at the gym in the mornings because I feel pressured to be at the their house before it gets too damn hot. I have every Thursday off from the Funeral Home, but lately I've had to go to the Everest office downtown to get "acclamated to the environment", like I was some sort of fish. On the contract for Everest, however, I'm only being paid for four hours in the office each week, and I already take care of that on Tuesdays. They pay me a VERY fair retainer twice a month to being on call and such, so I can't gripe too much...but the office is so cold and boring! It's so not like the funeral home.
What am I going to do tomorrow? Probably take my time at the gym, take a shower and shave BOTH legs (I usually only have time to shave one each day), then I'm meeting Buck for lunch, maybe I'll take Maya to the park and read a book, then clean the apartment. The apartment isn't too terribly dirty, since I spend most of my time in Buck's apartment. That is where I cook and sleep and such. Hell, I'll probably even go swimming.
Oh and by the way, I did have a four day weekend the weekend before last, when Buck and I went hunting and fishing with his friends. But we were traveling and away from home all that time,so I don't count it as an average day off.
I'm not too sure how I should introduce the events of this past weekend. Usually I try to give some background information first, but this time I think it might be better if I just spit the point out first, then maybe that'll uncover a more detailed analysis.
So, Dennis, or "The Cable Guy" as I probably referred to him in earlier posts, was up in South Dakota at the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally last week. Thursday night, at approximately 11 o'clock, his harley struck a deer that jumped out of the ditch beside the road. He was thrown from the bike and was rushed to a small hospital, and immediately getting there, he was life-flighted to a larger hospital in Rapid City where he later died early Friday morning. After a sharp, hard blow to the head, he had lost consciousness, never regained consciousness, and later slipped into a coma before finally dying after an attempted life-saving operation to remove pressure from the brain. How did I know thats what the doctors wanted to do? Well...This is where I go into further detail.
I was spending the night with Buck when he received the terrible news alittle after 5AM Friday. While I headed to work a couple hours later (early, because I couldn't just stand around doing nothing at home) Buck went to Dennis' house to console and be consoled. He was considered to be the son that Dennis never had, and Buck looked to him as a more prominent and dependable Father figure. Buck called me while I was already halfway to the funeral home and told me that the family wanted me to help with the arrangements. I was honored and terrified at the same time. Dennis had told me on July 4th that if something were to happen, he wanted me to take care of him and his family. It was like he knew. I remember him being responsible in some way or another for many of my special moments with Buck, whether it was inviting both of us to his house for a party, or needing us to run back to a bar in the middle of nowhere to pick up some signs. So even though he was a man I didn't know too well, he was a genuine, down-to-earth father and husband and a great guy who made such a huge impression on everybody he met.
So time came to receive his body from the airport and finally find out what sort of condition he was in. Obviously, the embalmers in South Dakota had something else on their mind, or were really rushed, because they completely forgot about the huge incision stretching from the back of his neck to right above his eyebrows. The doctors had made the incision and then stapled it together. A GOOD embalmer, practicing common sense, would remove the staples and restitch the damn incision. They were obviously not GOOD embalmers. And the pressure from the flight made it so much worse. I won't go into great detail, but it was obviously a half-ass job. The other funeral director and I stayed till midnight pulled out all the staples and surgical rags from incision, and when we got all that cleared out, we noticed that the doctors didn't even put the skull cap back in place. They had obviously sawed half the skull cap off to relieve pressure from the ruptured and expanding brain, but didn't even think to return it to its proper place. So in effect, there was nothing keeping all the gushy brain matter from leaking out. I've never seen an embalmed brain...or touched one...it was so neat. Then I remembered it was Dennis and I got pissed off again. I had to suture the incision back together which took about an hour. We cleaned him off and repaired some other half ass sutures and in the end, he looked 100% better. I dressed him the next morning in his usual Harley Davidson attire and his family and closest friends came a little later to view him. They were so overwhelmed at how good he looked, as they were expecting much worse.
I have to admit, and I feel alittle guilty for enjoying this so much, but it's a real ego boost to have so many strangers come up to me after the funeral service and thank me for what I did. I was honored to help and I'm just grateful that everything worked out well. The family had a party after the service which I missed because I had to go back to work, but Buck called me and told me that everyone was asking about me. So when I finally showed up to have a couple beers with the family, I was so surprised at how many people knew who I was! I'll never forget how it felt to have a big biker guy strut over to me and say "Cara, I've heard so much about you. I just have to give you a hug!"
Sometimes it's not so easy to say this, but I love my job.
I knew it was bound to happen. Buck has animals stuffed and hanging all over his apartment. My favorite is a pheasant posed as if in-flight and mounted on its side directly above the television. He has pistols, rifles, and shotguns locked up in a huge gun safe in the garage. Yesterday we were just lounging around in his apartment after having lunch with my parents when his dad called. He talked for a bit and cut a sly glance over his shoulder at me, "No, Sir. We're not doing much, just kickin' back watching some TV. Sure, I'd like to go. Let me see what we have going on tonight and I'll give you a call back." Then he hung up and dumped himself onto the couch beside me with the most suspicious smirk on his face and asked me, "What are you doing?" Before I knew it we were getting ready to go to the Shooting Range: he was pulling shells out of his dresser drawers, dropping a leather shoulder protector thingy on the bed, and laying a rifle and a shotgun on the floor infront of the couch. I put on one of his Harley Davidson shirts because mine was sleeveless then he patiently started telling me all about the guns lying on the floor, letting me hold it and put it to my shoulder and look through the sight. I couldn't believe how heavy it was! My arm was sore and tired just after holding it up for a could minutes! The Range was out in Spring a little bit away so I had plenty of time to get all nervous and fidgety. I didn't mind telling him that I was terrified but that I wanted to try just so I could say I made an effort. We got to the Range and he drove around for a bit so I could get used to the noise and watch some of the men fire Trap and Skeet. We plan to make a trip to Medina, Texas for a Dove Hunt on Labor Day and he wants me to get the hang of it before the actual hunt. After meeting up with his Dad in the shop and buying some more shells and some ear protection for me we went out to the Range with his 247 (I think? It's 24-something) Winchester. It was friggin' loud out there! I was watching a guy close by with a similar rifle and saw how it threw his shoulder back each time he fired! I put the ear protectors on and I could hear my own heart racing. We went out after the cease fire was called and hung up our targets. Mine was the one on the left and his on the right so we could see how well we did afterward. I watched him shoot the first three shells then he let me sit down in the booth. At first he just let me hold the gun for a bit and let me watch him load the three shells. He showed me how to turn the safety off and how to hold the butt (?) really tight against my shoulder. I was so friggin' nervous! I was surprised I wasn't shaking. Everytime I had the bullseye lined up in the sight and I had my finger on the trigger I would wuss out and drop the gun. I knew I was going to either love it or hate it and I really wanted to love it because I knew Buck really enjoyed hunting. He was really patient, by the way! He stood right behind my right shoulder and told me to just keep trying, to hold the gun tight against my shoulder. Finally, I aimed again and pulled the trigger. Lo' and behold! It didn't hurt! It threw my shoulder back a bit but didn't hurt at all. It's funny how it doesn't seem as loud when it's your gun. I couldn't imagine trying to shoot, though, without the ear protection. Buck showed me how to empty the shell and reload and I fired the remaining two shots then reloaded another three and shot those without a problem. My shoulder was getting alittle sore so Buck let me wear the leather shoulder guard. We took turns shooting three at a time until cease fire was called and we got to go out and check the target. The first time I checked the target I had hit the bullseye once and all the other shots hit the circle right outside the bullseye. So if the Bullseye was 10 points, all the others were 9 points. Buck was so impressed. He didn't hit bullseye at all and only had a couple in the 9 point range. We fired some more and the next time I checked the target, I had four in Bullseye! I did have two out of the seventeen I fired that hit along the edge of the target, giving me no points. I had a great time! Towards the end some dark storms were beginning to roll in over the firing range. It looked so beautiful. While we were driving back Buck called his Dad and told him he would have to get rid of me if I was going to keep outshooting him. He asked if I would be able to shoot a Deer or a Dove and not be freaked out. I told him that if he was as patient with me as he was today that I would probably try anything once, but that I had no problems hunting deer. Let me just say, he was impressed. He held my hand the entire way home. I impressed him again later that day with my tree climbing skills when he took me to his job so he could start up his old blue Chevy truck that he's been working on. It was sitting back in the field behind the shop where he works. It wasn't raining as hard so I went over to a tree and proceeded to climb it while he tried to get his truck running. When he looked up I was half way up the tree, straddling a branch and giggling. He watched as I slowly made my way back down then gave me the keys to his Ford truck so he could follow me home in his Chevy. When we got home he showed me all of his other guns and explained why each was different and which one could be used for what. Then he made me the best Tunafish sandwich ever and fell asleep against me on the couch while I listened to the storm. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.
I couldn't think of another title to better describe the past few weeks kickin' around with my new boyfriend. We've been together for only a month and a half and so far I've only found one small flaw: I fear he's a bit homophobic. I discovered this while watching Broke Back Mountain for the third time on TV (love it!) and he began to whine and fidget beside me. I've seen it on TV only so of course they didn't show the business part. After a while I believe he actually got into it but I had to swear to not tell any of the other guys. The K's invited me to the Gay Pride Parade not too long ago but it was on a weekend I was on call and couldn't go. I told Buck and he sort of cringed. And then again, I was watching a great Lifetime movie on TV called the Gwen Arajou Story. The movie is about a boy who has always believed himself to be a girl and as he grows older he begins to dress like a woman and play himself off to be a real woman, finding a boyfriend and everything. And the poor girl gets murdered! It's really sad. So when Buck began to fidget and groan I stole a quote from the movie and told him, "He's a girl at heart," but I'm not sure that I changed his whole opinion. As long as he doesn't get violent and he's accepting enough of other people to respect their own views and beliefs, then I won't kick him to the curb.
Getting back to the title, Buck took me to the Mud Boggs where they race the really big trucks. It was great! I loved it! I got all muddy! After that we went off-roading in one of his friend's truck. I had a blast and I can't wait to do it again. Buck told me that there is something similar next month up in Huntsville and his own off-road truck that he's building should be ready by then.
Whataburger sort of turned into our special place ever since he kissed me for the first time while leaning over my chicken-finger basket. We go there about twice a week for dinner
And he gives the most amazing back rubs! They feel so good after a hard day hauling caskets and clutching the steering wheel during rush hour traffic.
There's a lot more sprouting up that I'll blog about later on as they develope, but for now I'm just happy.
Yesterday I felt that I could really celebrate a personal independence. Too often we wear our masks and try to be something we're not in an attempt to have a good time. Atleast that was how I felt when I was with Poodle and his family, like a third wheel trying desperately to keep up. I would have never known there was a group of people who clung to the simpler pleasures in life: a good thunderstorm watched from the garage, a game of horse-shoe, a few cold beers, a teetering baby chasing after a harmless english bulldog, and a few huge biscuits made from scratch. At first I felt guilty spending so much time with Buck, it seemed that we were going too fast. Dylan made a comment on my last post that helped put things in perspective. Who's to say that we're not going too slow? I wanted to know how Buck felt about me sleeping over every night so, again, I tested him. I told him that I felt guilty and I that he would probably get more sleep if I slept in my apartment that night, though I obviously didn't want to. He was too cute! He groaned and kicked his feet a bit under the covers and starred at me as I started to put my clothes on, "Why would you go and do that? You seem to sleep better down here anyways. I feel like I must be the luckiest man on the planet when you're lying next to me. Plus, you'll just be lying in your bed dreamin' of my ass." And once again I kicked my pants off and climbed back up into bed with him. Now, it's pretty much understood everynight that I'll be sleeping with him, and I do sleep a lot better. I especially like those last twenty minutes after the alarm goes off when he presses the snooze button and wraps his arms around me. He's threatened to call in sick every day this week but I won't let him. This morning we were lying on the couch watching a movie when he was supposed to already be heading to his dad's house. He picked up the phone to call his dad and tell him he was sick, but I made him go on.
Last night I had a great time. We went to his boss' for a big dinner and a few hours just lounging around the pool. I learned how to play Horse-shoe and got alittle closer to his friends. I was on-call yesterday and this weekend and I ended up receiving a call from a woman who's mother is about to pass away. I had to disappear for about five minutes to speak with her on the phone, when I came back to the pool Buck's boss told me that he believed me to be the perfect person to handle such a sensitive job and that he wished I'd be the one to take care of his arrangements when the time comes, which is the best compliment a mortician can receive. We left his house around 9 and went to the lake just in time for an impromptu memorial service for a late veteran and a tribute ceremony for a few service men there last night, afterwards we said the pledge and settled down for the fireworks. Buck and I sat on the beach and, despite the mosquitos and being paranoid that the hospice nurse was going to call me, I had the time of my life. On the way back home I told Buck that if I were to die right now he needed to know that this was the happiest I'd been in years. He held my hand the entire drive back home, and just for the record, he reached for my hand. He's such a tragic sap.
