H

So today I got some really tragic news. One of my previous volunteers (I'll call her H), an Americorps member in school at UL-Lafayette, committed suicide a few days ago.

When she was on my worksite, we worked alone together for much of the week. We were stuck in the rental staircase on Professor Longhair's house and having the hardest damn time installing these original balusters and their accompanying handrails. They were all cut to fit in an exact order and there were about 13 balusters - and I could not for the life of my figure out the order. I disappeared for 10 minutes and poof! she had figured out something that had been stumping me for a few days.

We talked about a lot of things in that staircase. Her parents didn't understand her - they were making her be an engineer and all she really wanted to do was be a fireman (firewoman?). We had a lot of things in our childhood in common and wanted to live in quaint little houses that we'd fixed up ourselves when we were older (she worked at a similar position at Habitat for Humanity in Lafayette). She talked about owning her own place one day and having a space where she could work on cars - she really loved that. She was pretty masculine and told me, "but I can wear makeup sometimes," as if she was trying to prove to me that she can be a girl, that she's not always so rough. I recognized the need to defend herself for being herself as a soft and bruised spot and one I have too. We understood a lot about each other in that short time.

Toward the end of the week, I started to pull back from her because I sensed a little clinginess. Clinginess terrifies me.

I'm not sure what all of this amounts to, whether anything she told me was part of her reason. I've been hearing her voice in my head all day and I've been pretty wracked about it. This is particularly confusing because it's the middle of Mardi Gras season and everything is so fun and wonderful - booze and parades and plans and excitement - it's a ball. But there's also this. I didn't want to name her earlier because I don't want her parents to be able to google anything and find this post - that would only add to the hurt. But I also wanted to be truthful with what I know about her.

Good news next time, minions, I promise. Until then, I'll be a little brokenhearted but hoping that my sweet friend has finally found some peace and acceptance. We all deserve that.

Best video of all time

This one goes out to my girl, Kara Cooper, roommate extraordinaire of 2 years.

There are times when you are with a group of people and everyone is trying to one-up each other with their funniest youtube videos of cats, cute children, or lizards tripping on acid. This is the one I always use in these situations and it has yet to fail me. You're welcome, minions.

ALSO just had a great conversation with mah bestie Emily and she informs me that 2 blog posts ago, my strange and cryptic "I just can't, she just, I just can't :'(" post DIDN'T POST THE BRANDI CARLILE VIDEO THAT ACCOMPANIED IT. So I'm not having some crazy weird meltdown over social media over here, it was about her song. Apologies to all that were confused or concerned that I'd lost my mind. This is also for you, my one reader in Germany.

Update

What's happening, my main minions?

A good friend of mine tipped me off about this guy earlier and I want you all to see it. He's pretty incredible.

Mardi gras season is officially upon us! I am currently sick in my bed - I had to leave work early because I was sealing a concrete floor and it was all I could do to not pass out and leave one of my poor coworkers to find me permanently urethaned to the floor. I got some acid on my legs and some nasty rope burns on my hands after almost falling off a roof last week. Sometimes I find myself doing these insane things and I realize that I love my job so much it scares me.

The parades have been awesome so far. Apparently from this Wednesday until next, it is going to be a marathon of parades and craziness. I hope I'll be able to stand upright by then without the aid of someone's arm or makeshift 2x4 crutches, but I'll wheelchair it around if I have to. I'll be there.

 
I like to think this year will be more than an accumulation of construction knowledge and a tangle of fresh memories. Being open and honest with people is hard for me. Sometimes it feels impossible. I used to deal with this by going to a solitary place and escaping in my music. When I had a shitty round of golf, I'd listen to this song by Ry Cooder (thanks dad). I wrap up people and feelings in songs; they're how I mark off events in my life. I can't hear this one without crying - I'm pretty sure it's how I've gotten through the past 4 months or so. I think it's funny how music can cut through all the bullshit and get to you right where you are.


Anyways, I keep writing these blog posts in my mind about golf and gender and relationships, but I find exposing myself on the internet to generally be a really terrible and fake-feeling way to iron out your mental wrinkles.

 

Haha but actually, this year has been a serious exercise in telling people what is really on my mind and it being okay when they don't like hearing it. Also learning that I am a 3 according to the Enneagram has given me ENORMOUS insight into my life. I'm so much a 3 it's ridiculous.


I think that's enough for now. I'll try to post some of the less incriminating photos from the next week soon. I already have some pretty spectacular ones but I don't want to ruin anyone's chances of running for office one day so I'll keep 'em locked up on my phone for the time being.

Blackmail is always a good asset to have on hand.