This legitimately made me laugh out loud. You hacked my website, huh? And… What? Are you going to leak all of my whiny/emo posts that are already open for public scrutiny? Oh no! Whatever will I do?
Please, don’t tell my friends and family members that I’m in a polyamorous relationship?! Even when my website is open to the public. Will you send them the public link to the post where I explain, in detail, about my infidelity?
So in the tradition of “a song with the name of the location we are leaving,” I tried to find a song about Orlando that had some sort of memory or meaning to me. But there is honestly nothing that includes it. And the new ones I came across were depressing as fuck. So, I settled on this song.
This is from one of my favorite musicals. If you are unfamiliar it was written by the creators of South Park and one of the writers of Avenue Q and Frozen. So. Have fun with that knowledge.
This is the only musical I have ever listened to the soundtrack first before ever having seen the show or read the script. Usually I need context or mental imagery to enjoy a musical soundtrack but this interested me more than any other. I was not disappointed.
If you haven’t had a chance to see it, please do. I’ve seen it twice with two different casts and absolutely loved it each time. I had to stop myself from not acting out the role of Kevin Price.
In regards to any memory attached to this song, all this makes me think of is a workday where I was tasked with taking photographs of houses in a neighboring rural town. Instead of doing it solo I asked an old friend if she wanted to come along with me and the two of us sat and giggled like idiots to the songs. With both of us having come from deeply religious backgrounds we audibly gasped at the blasphemous lyrics.
This is one of the only good memories with that friend. She was problematic and someone I genuinely wish I could just forget existed. Especially her insane, Christian family. There are times I’m overwhelmed with anxiety just obsessing over the thought of them. Which is insane because they are nowhere near my current reality. They just made me so angry and I want nothing more than to tell them to their stupid fucking faces.
I have previously written about her mother trying to tell me to find a nice girl and settle down after a (one of many) break up with my husband. Evidently I made a face that was rude and she was insulted. Not that what she said was fucking insulting or that I always have a horrible expression… but whatever.
We left Orlando and booked it to New Orleans. We are on the final leg of the trip. After this weekend it’s hopping from one stop to the next until we make our way to Las Vegas and Magic 30.
And here we are again, with a locational song to bookend our trip to the city of the same name. Boston has been a wonderful city. Absolutely gorgeous. Even the dump parts of it were enchanting. I would live here in a heartbeat. Well… almost. I can’t handle the lack of street lights on the highway or the the lack of lane markers or, worst yet, the fact that off-ramps just happen with no real warning. Other than those, gorgeous town.
The whole point of our road trip was to make it here, which is why I set aside a week. The hubby and I have never been and have always wanted to. He had thoroughly enjoyed it. He just wishes we had designated the whole month here instead of 5 days. And he’s not wrong.
During our time here we’ve also gone to P-town and Salem. I thought Provincetown was going to be a short day but it turned out to be fun filled. And I already can’t wait to go back.
Today we set off for Philadelphia where the Bf will be flying in to meet us for the weekend. Can’t wait to have all my boys together again.
Now to the song…
The first time I had ever heard this was on the pandora station I would play at my desk, while in the employ of my previous employer. It was the only perk of working there, getting to have my music. Other than that… it was the worst experience of my life.
It’s funny, because while I was there I didn’t see how much it was killing me. I had just come to accept it. Never once did I question my mental health and self worth. Both of which my coworkers attempted to destroy.
I applied for this job and got into it by accident. I just wanted an office job. I was burnt out on retail. I couldn’t handle working holidays anymore. So I answered an ad and it turned out to be for an office assistant for a real estate appraiser. When I told my husband he was so jealous. He had always wanted to get into that line of work.
They initially liked me and hired me right away.
The man who trained me became a really good friend. I enjoyed his company. He was training to be an appraiser and I was meant to be his replacement. He went out on odd jobs here and there and worked overtime for the boss. The way the main appraiser and his assistant spoke to him was atrocious. They genuinely talked to him as if he had three brain cells. And he was very intelligent. (He’s currently a history teacher, which definitely suits him moreso than appraisals.)
I remember one time asking him, after this one woman had said something utterly despicable to him, “why do you put up with the way they speak to you?” He just shrugged a shoulder and turned back to his computer screen.
Years later, I was him. They ended up treating me the same exact way. It wasn’t until I left to work with my current employer did I realize how much of my sense of self that job drained from me. Away from it I lost a ton of weight and have loads more confidence in my ability to do anything.
All this song makes me think about is that cubicle, those horrible people… and how a change of scenery put me on the path to be who I was meant to become. If I had stayed there… I wouldn’t be in Boston right now. I wouldn’t have had the funds or the time to invest in my husbands final days.
I also like how in the song she went from California to Boston. Like me. And the cities are truly different sides of the same coin. And while I am a Californian through and through the call to this historic place is very real.
I am so far behind on these posts. I had finally caught up but then life got increasingly complicated.
We recently went on a road-trip to ultimately end up in Denver, Colorado, to see Chris Stapleton. This was my husband’s previous birthday gift. On the Thursday before the concert, and literally packing up our belongings to head to Denver from Rapid City, South Dakota, I got a call from my mother’s hospice nurse. In a calm tone she informed me that my mother was no longer able to swallow. The plan going forward was to stop her medications and give her only small amounts of liquids using a lollipop style sponge.
Not even five minutes later, the BF got a phone call from his grandmother that his grandfather (who had Parkinson’s) was refusing to eat. Since he made it clear he didn’t want a feeding tube, he was starting hospice care.
The whole drive to Denver I debated with myself, and for those around me, whether I should cut the trip short and go home or continue on. As it was, we either rushed home to see my mom before she passed and miss out on seeing Chris Stapleton (one of my husband “bucket-list items”), or continue on to the concert and miss a chance to say goodbye to her. I ultimately felt that the concert was more important. Life is for the living, and I had said goodbye to my mother many times before.
The universe decided my decision was the incorrect one.
The Friday before the concert the brother-husband asked me what time the event started the next day. I opened up the app and discovered that Chris’s concert had been postponed to the subsequent weekend. Four days after we were scheduled to be home in California. Shoot me. We had briefly, briefly debated staying the rest of the week, but the financial pressure that would have put on us would have been entirely too much. Sure it would have been fun, but ultimately would have left us scraping by. Also, it would have potentially made saying goodbye to mom impossible.
With that final hiccup, we packed our shit up and headed home.
The moment we got back into town I visited my mom and would every day after. I sat in a wheelchair, at her bedside, talking to her and rubbing her arm. For about 75% of the time we spent together she was out cold. She would wake up intermittently, look at me, and then go right back to sleep. At this point she was mostly non-verbal and could barely mumble out a coherent phrase. She did, however, manage a “I love you.”
Two weeks to the day she could no longer swallow, my mother passed. I got the call as I was heading out the door for my workday.
I don’t know if it’s because I saw this coming, a mile away, or I’m just a monster, but I have barely cried in the wake of her death. In comparison with my pop’s, this fact is deeply troubling to me. With him, I could not stop myself. Every thought or relatable song caused me to breakdown. However, now, all I want to do is hide away and sleep. But the responsibilities of my life keep that from happening. Which is a good and bad thing.
Since I got the news, I have been listening to two of my mom’s favorite singers: Anne Murray and Mama Cass.
I wish this song didn’t say the mama and the papas. The song is Mama Cass (aka Cass Elliot.) Anyway, I think my mother enjoyed her so much because, like my mom, was a bigger gal. It showed that the world wasn’t entirely body obsessed.
Saying that though, my mother’s was healthier than a horse. We had opined a few times that she would have survived the black plague, her immunity was so strong. The unfortunate thing is that her mind wasn’t included in that level of health. All of this unbelievably cruel, but that is life.
While I haven’t cried… I am deeply depressed. And perpetually angry. (But I have discovered that I tend to route my sadness into rage.) I just don’t want to do anything. Even writing this is agonizing, but I can’t let myself get so far behind that I can’t keep up.
This song is one of those that will forever make me think of my mom. Hearing it I am back in our station wagon, with the gray interior, on our hour long drive home. She’s singing along in her falsetto, bouncing to the beat.