Stepford

"Damn. AnoMALIE, I wish I had your life!"

I've received numerous calls and texts from friends and family after this whole Tyson death thing.
It has been nice to catch up, and for the most part, as long as they don't sit there and try to make me reminisce about all the ridiculous... hilarious, sweet stuff my dog did, I'll be good.

The person who has succeeded most with this task has been Pacemaker. That chick.
We were talking about our upcoming trip to the east coast, and the conversation went something like this:
Pacemaker: We should have this trip totally booked by late August. Deal?
Me: Yeah, definitely. We have to work shit out prior to the first week of September.
Pacemaker: Oh, so you're on board for the Hometown trip with me, then?
Me: No... I have to skip on that one. Apparently things are growing increasingly worse. Plus, I have another trip pending... so I wouldn't be able to help out with the plans until mid-September when I return.
Pacemaker: Where are you going?
Me: ... Costa Rica. Mexico's national team is playing a cup-qualifier against Costa Rica on the 9th, and our friends got us tickets to watch it with them...
Pacemaker: Costa Rica's that fun, huh?
Me: Yeah. More like... I like it there a lot, especially now that I have "family" there.
Pacemaker: Damn. AnoMALIE, I wish I had your life!
Me: No. No you don't.
Pacemaker: Yes! Yes, I do! You get to travel to all these places whenever you want. You don't have to work. You can spend as much as you want on whatever you want. All you really do is work out, clean the house, and cook. I want that life.
Me: Ha. Yeah. I'm pretty much a Stepford Wife minus the kids, husband, and sex. Yeah. Dreamy.
Pacemaker: Dang. Calm down, Negative Nancy.
Me: Pacemaker, my dog's dead. I'm not exactly a ray of sunshine right now.

I wish I had your life.
Really?
I know damn near everyone says this (and those who don't will instead say something along the lines of "I'm SO BLESSED!" Which, I know I've said it once or twice... usually when I escape some bad situation, but others just love to drop this line every other day. Shut the fuck up, yeah?), but... my life isn't dreamy. At all.
Maybe someone who loves to spend money might envy my life... some shallow, materialistic person (Christ, I'm sorry Pacemaker... I love you, but your emphasis on monetary issues is the one topic that upsets me in this relationship), but money's fickle-- it comes as fast as it goes. Also, while I pretty much have free reign when it comes to spending, I don't have the heart to spend it. I think of the difficulty with which that money is obtained, and I can't bring myself to spend it on frivolous shit like designer shoes/bags/luggae etc. I've never been one to enjoy flaunting my shit... I'm sure my friends can attest to this-- I always look like a bum. Flaunting makes me feel bad.
Money doesn't get you shit, if anything, it gets many people--especially strangers-- to resent you.

This also makes me wonder... am I THAT good at making it look like my life's awesome? I don't talk! I rarely smile. I SLOUCH! I don't hold eye-contact.
That's the behavior of a person with a dope life? Last time I checked, people who behave like me have serious traumas.
Did I just admit to having serious traumas? Well... it's not like I'm normal, now, is it? Of fucking course I have traumas... and regardless of how much money I may chuck at them, they don't go away. Ever.

My life is meaningless.
Every dream I've ever had has been shot down at point-blank range... with a shotgun.
Kinda rough for a girl whose life has consisted of dreaming, something done in order to endure many of the aforementioned traumas.

Above all, my life is painfully lonely... it always has been.
Whether the room is full of people, or completely empty, it does not matter-- there's a disconnect.
Lonely, more so than ever, now that the only creature that ever understood me is buried behind the "play room" of my house.

When I found Tyson on Monday morning, aside from the obvious sadness I felt over his death, and relief I felt over him no longer being in pain... I was surprised to note I also felt a little bit of envy.
You beat me to it, boy. You were given the ticket out first. You no longer have to worry. You're free.

Sorry to say it, but: be careful what you wish for... things are not always what they seem.