Sunday August 14th, 1988
I have escaped! Well, really I just went for a walk. I think I really need to be alone. If I stayed in the house one more moment with the smile plastered to my face it may just freeze that way. My mother used to tell me that would happen when I made a mean face, isn’t it the same with the smiling face? Won’t it stick also?
Just down the road there is a wonderful mini forest tucked away from view. Hidden in the back between a few houses. Is it really a forest? The tree’s look like pencils, tall and skinny, nothing like the giant sequoias that are in my back yard in California. I don’t know why they surprise me and delight me all in the same moment. But they do. They bring a real smile to my face as I stand in front of them.
I excused myself from the house with JP and Quentin. They were playing pick-up sticks in the living room. His mother watching with a sad look on her face. She is a dear woman but she just seems like either 1. I am not right for her son or 2. She is scared of something. That and I know she doesn’t get to see her grandson as much as she would like, so I thought they could use some time together without the awkward American in the way.
I needed to be alone. I needed to walk around and see what this side of the world has in store for me. JP seems so happy here. This is his element, and while it’s not mine, he is happy here. Last night we went out to another Tavern, it just seems to be what one does in Belgium. People kept buying me drinks, the men especially. At one point I had 3 cointreau tonics lined up waiting for me to finish. How can one person drink so much? I didn’t understand it till I had to use the restroom. Everyone kept leaving the table, going to the restroom and coming back ordering more beers. Where are they putting them all? I’ve had 1 drink and not quite sure I’m going to be able to finish the other 3! I asked JP to walk me to the restroom . He does, and as I walked in he started heading back to the table. I took one step in and quickly took a step back and grabbed his arm. “I need the woman’s restroom!” I exclaimed. He was drunk I knew, but really, he led me to the men’s room. There was a man peeing in front of me!
“That is the toilet” He said. His accent thick and slurred. “They’re all the same here”
If he was annoyed with me or surprised, I didn’t know. My legs tightened together, I needed to go pee. He turned and left back to the table and I stood in front of the door labeled ‘Toilet’. Great! I took a deep breath, grabbed for the door and walked in holding my breath. I was immediately met with the 2 urinals and 1 stall of which was being used by a man throwing up!
I let out my breath and surrender to this country that I can not understand. Drink till you puke, how mighty brilliant and a waste of good money I might add.
I head back to the table, relieved and disgusted and whispered in JP’s ear, “that guy over there was just throwing up in the restroom.”
“So?” He says so nonchalantly I just had to ask.
“So? Why is he still drinking if he’s sick? Shouldn’t he go home?” That made perfect sense to me. If you don’t feel good go home!
I got the disgusted annoyed look. “He’s not sick, we throw up so we can keep drinking. Empty our stomach’s so we can drink more!” He excused himself from the table and headed towards the ‘toilet’.
I was disgusted even more!
I am still disgusted.
But that doesn’t change the fact that as I stand in front of these mini trees that JP seems happy. We aren’t fighting here and I am falling in love with him all over again. That and I am blessed beyond belief that we made it back to his sisters house still alive and am I remembering correctly that I petted a porcupine last night?
I shake my head and start heading back to the house. We are taking his parents to Brugge today. Well, really, I think they are taking me to Brugge. I am the foreigner that has never been.
Sunday, August 14th, 1988 - Evening
It’s official - Waffles in Belgium are the most different and wonderful thing that I have ever had! I have found the recipe and marching my butt home with the special sugar and butter laden concoction!
You have not lived till you’ve had french-fries from a stand off the side of the road drenched in Andalouse Sauce! They are so much better then what I have ever had. I am still trying to figure out why they are called ‘French’ fries when they were created in Belgium. But that is a later debate.
All toilets flush differently. When in doubt check the toilet way before you actually have to go. Some have a lever up on the wall, or above the toilet near the ceiling, or a small hiding button on the side or some are just a knob on the top of the tank where you either push or pull! You have been warned. Check before you have to go!
I have found the house of my dreams and someday I may just own it! This large beautiful house that sits on the rivers edge just calls my name each time we pass by it. It’s odd roof angles, white trim, red curtains hanging inside and 3 chimneys seen from the outside. It is calling my name. I wonder what you have to do to flush the toilets in that house.
But I am officially sick of going out partying and drinking. I’m 20 years old and I can’t figure out why all these people are so dead set on drinking and wasting time and money hanging out in a smoky tavern trying to one up each other. I am sick of it! I refuse to throw up just so I can drink more! How the heck do I politely get myself back to his sisters house?
I don’t!
Tuesday, August 16th, 1988
Yesterday we spent the day with Quentin. We still ended up in a Tavern. I’m trying to keep an open mind I really am. I ordered a coke, I’m just done with drinking, I don’t care what people think of me anymore.
This morning we are sitting at breakfast visiting with his parents and sister. His father Albert is not very well. He shakes a lot and has this sad look on his face. I swear I can look in his eye’s and see a man that worked hard his whole life. But what else is behind your eyes? What stories could you tell me about the war and being captured and shot and escaping? There is history in this man’s eyes and my language barrier is a hurdle I can’t overcome. He catches me starring at him and he wink’s at me. I wink back and smile at him. I may not speak his language but I put love in my smile.
A car pulls down the path and everyone starts talking real fast and gets up. His mother starts talking faster and throwing up her hands. JP gets up and heads to the door opening it letting Fifi in. This larger then life man stands in the front room, everyone is talking fast and his mother does not have a pleasant look on her face. There is history here that I do not know. Something is up and I can’t make it out. I stay seated at the table and wait it out. I can’t understand, they are fast talking once again.
JP comes up to me and says that Fifi asked if he could take him out for an hour to introduce him to someone. Would I mind?
I wasn’t being invited! Who was this person he was going to meet? And yes go, but wait, don’t leave me home alone in this house. We don’t speak the same language! If I need something how am I going to ask for it? Where are you going? How do I get a hold of you?
“Oh sure hon’,” I reply, “I’m about an hour away from being ready to leave anyways.” My voice leveled in a cheery tone for the Fifi that is watching my reply.
It has now been 6 hours and he is still not home. I have spent 1 hour getting ready, 1 hour starring out of the upstairs bedroom window at the drive willing the car to come back, 2 hours watching his mother pace the tile off the floor in the living room, 1 hour walking in the back grounds with the cows admiring the garden, 30 minutes watching his mother with the phone book frantically calling all the local taverns to see if JP was there. I heard her say his name a lot! This last 30 minutes was spent packing.
My flight ticket firmly in my hand, the rest of the travelers check’s counted and placed in my pocket, I stand in front of the phone. I need to know what number to dial and as I pick up the phone and press the zero on the key pad I am not met with an operator.
His mother is standing in front of me, tears running down her face, she is breaking my heart. Correction, he is breaking my heart. It’s now been 7 hours! I know there are phone’s in every single tavern and payphones all over the towns. Every home has a phone. I know he has the number. He knows we don’t speak the same language. This is cruel for all of us. He may be happy here, but it’s time to grow up!
I show his mother my flight ticket and point to the phone. She nods, takes the ticket, picks up the receiver and begins to dial a number. She fast talks for a bit and then hands me the phone. Holding it out to me to take. I put the phone to my ear saying “Hello? Do you speak English?”
I let out a sigh as a woman on the other end of the line says yes, and offers me help. We talk for a bit and I explain to her that I have a ticket with a departure in a week and can I please move it up. The news isn’t good. They don’t have any seats free for days and on top of that the cost of changing the ticket would be several hundred dollars.
I count the money I have with me. JP has most of it and I don’t have enough. I am once again stuck! She tells me that she will look into it some more and call me if they can help me in anyway. I hand the phone back to Marie whom gives her their phone number and I sit to wait, willing for the phone to call back with a solution.
I want to go home. I want to be on solid American ground with English speaking people and large trucks and cars and brown landscaping and toilets that all flush the same way. I have no idea how I am even going to get to the airport, but I wait for the call anyways.
The night draws closer and the sun has gone down. It has now been well over 10 hours since JP left for his ‘hour’ I carry my suitcase back upstairs, deflated that she never called me back, but determined to try again tomorrow when yelling from downstairs is heard.
I look out the bedroom window and see Fifi dropping off JP. Marie and Albert are out the door yelling again in fast French that I don’t understand. A mother and father ganging up on their adult son. I stay upstairs. It’s safer up here for me. Besides, they seem to be doing a really good job at setting him straight for me. I don’t understand a word, but from body language and the tone of voice, it’s not a pleasant conversation.
JP is drunk. He is down right plastered beyond belief, I can hear it in his words that he is slurring together and can see him stumbling to get inside the house. He waves off his friend and waves off his parents and I hear him fumbling up the steep ladder trying to make it upstairs.
For a brief moment I hope for the stairs to give way. Or possibly for him to fall and make a larger fool out of himself. But neither happens. He makes it upstairs and into the room. Take’s a look at my packed suitcases with anger on his face. He starts talking in French.
I interrupt. “I can’t understand you! English!”
“Who fuck you think are?” His words molding together, but it’s his famous line. I know what he meant to say.
I don’t hold back. “Your wife!” Out of respect for his mother, who seems to be more upset then I am at this moment, I keep my voice low. “The wife you left here for over 10 hours, worried about you and scared you left her or worse, got hurt. The same wife that doesn’t understand or speak the language in this country you have brought her in to!” I pause. “Who the fuck do I think I am? I know, I am your wife!”
“Fuck you, learn French you stupid idiot.” He stumbles out.
I am taken aback. Has he not seen me trying. Has he not told me over and over that I can’t speak the language and to stop butchering his language as I do. He knows my speech problems as a child that I had to overcome. He knows there are words I still can not say in my own language. He knows, I know he knows, because I have told him.
I don’t respond as he is waiting. He looks at me with what appears to be impatience. “I’m not going to fight with a drunk man.” I reply.
“I’m ot runk” He slurs out.
I look at his red face, black eye’s, soiled clothes. He reeks of cigarette smoke and booze. All I can do is look at him in pity. “Really? OK then. Tomorrow you can take me to the airport. I’m going to bed.” Fully clothed I plopped on the ‘whatever you call this type mattress’ and will myself to fall asleep. I’m not going to fight with a drunk man. They may be fun to watch make fools of themselves, but this one I know for sure is dangerous to fight with.
Showing posts with label Chapter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter. Show all posts
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Chapter 10 - Someone Stole All The Green Crayons in the box!
Thursday, August 11th 1988
Amsterdam, Holland
We are in Amsterdam now, leaving the airport and I think people are all really sick. They are all so nice and it’s really cold outside. Well, not that cold to be honest. But cold enough that I was glad to see the fiat rental car pull up. The car is huge! OK, that is an understatement. To be honest the car is big enough that I was grateful once we got it all loaded with our 3 pieces of luggage that there was still room in it for JP and I. Well, possibly, I am sitting with my carry-on on my lap.
We are flying down road A2 heading to Belgium. I say flying - because we are flying! The sky is cloudy and it is raining, this weather however does not stop JP from going 140 down the road. I have to keep remembering that it’s kilometer’s no miles. So really that’s just somewhere in the 80’s. Way to fast for me. But not enough to make me lose the smile on my face.
All the taxi’s here are Mercedes. Really, I was watching them back at the airport and when I asked JP, he looked at me like I was crazy for even asking. “Ya, So” was all he said. The country must be rich, is all I can think of, the the average taxi driver to drive a Mercedes Benz around.
Everywhere I turn there is more green. I noticed that as we were landing in the plane and now, as we are driving down the freeway. Everything is green. It’s not just one color of green, it’s every shade of green you could ever imagine. It’s like they were giving the 64 box of crayons and they took the sleeve that held all the green one’s and just dumped it over. Letting them fall over the fields and hills and wash past the freeways and creaks, mixing together making more colors as they blend. It’s a breathtaking mix of green.
We just passed a windmill!
The green color isn’t just the only change, I am noticing the cows. They look just like ours that we have in our country but these are stupid. They’re running all around and across the green fields. I have never seen cow’s just running. Maybe they are running for fun? Several of them are laying down and I ask JP “why are some of the cows laying down and other‘s running all over the place?” I’m thinking they might be hurt or something.
“They’re just cow’s” He says back. “They take better care of them here.” I believe him. How lucky the cow’s must be to be in this country then back in America just standing in one place.
He is driving faster, I know it’s because he wants to see his family and I can’t blame him. I would be the same. After the hours in the plane and now the near 4 hours getting to his parent’s house I am finding myself extremely nervous. It never really dawned on me I would be meeting his parent’s!
There is a little ‘eek’ feeling that rolls over in my stomach as we come down a hill and turn onto a city street. Zooming through the tiny skinny streets with rock buildings on both side’s I wonder, just how far away are we really? Do I have time to change my mind now? Will they like me? Probably not! I straighten what I can of my hair and clothing and get ready for what seems to be a meet and greet in the short future.
My heart starts to race as he turns the clown car onto a gravel road leading to just a few houses. We pull up to the one on the right and JP motions that it’s the one. I get out, being met by his sister who comes out of the house to meet us! She seems nice. I understand nothing of what she says as his parent’s follow behind her also. I stand there with a smile on my face, lost in the conversation that is going on around me and wait. I wait for the conversation to be translated for me to understand. I wait. I really wish I could speak French. I wait. They are talking so fast! I wait.
I follow them inside while I wait.
Friday, August 12th, 1988
Observations have shown that while the country is very green and buildings are very beautiful the mattress’ are very hard. I don’t even really know how to describe it, other then they just feel like a large bumpy old pillow thrown on a frame called a bed and people just sleep on them. Who care’s that you wake up all crooked and lopsided. I wonder, do they know that there are these large mattress’ out there that are wonderful and soft and cushiony and cradle you gently, drifting you into a loving sleep!
And what’s up with the cow under the bedroom window at 5 in the morning? That thing is noisy! Nearly ever morning at home I am woken up by the Harley Davidson neighbors with their - don’t they call them ‘Hogs?’ Well here in Belgium we have real life livestock to wake us up! How special is that?
We are heading out to visit his brother. He is a mail carrier so JP is hoping that he can catch up with him on his route.
We actually find him at the local pub, bar, saloon… what do they call ‘em? He is sitting on a stool, at the bar, drinking a beer! Never in America have I ever seen my postman sitting in a bar, drinking a beer in uniform with my mail on the stool next to him. OK, maybe I am sheltered.
We leave the bar and head back into the town of Dinant to pick up his son. I am again nervous, getting used to the feeling of knots living in my stomach. We pull up to a street with small skinny sidewalks and a large stone wall. The house, in the middle of town is large and European country in style. Something I would never be able to afford to recreate at home. A woman comes to the door and opens it. She is blond (not natural), very skinny, and wearing blue eye shadow. Blue? I catch myself starring at her eye lids not able to get passed the blue color. I haven’t seen that blue since the late 70’s. I am shocked even more to find that this woman is Martine, JP’s ex wife. She is pulling us into her house down the large hallway with the dark large woodwork into a sitting room. We go no further then the sitting room. We sit on the benches, they are talking fast French to each other, she keeps looking at me with odd glances and I wonder if it’s because I can not stop starring at her eye lids.
I wonder if JP still love’s her and still wishes he could be with her? I wonder if he was given the option if he would go back to her? I wonder how someone so pale and thin thinks dark blue eye shadow could possibly look good on her?
The conversation lull’s for a moment and I take a chance to talk. “I love your house, It’s beautiful!” JP looks embarrassed he has to translate it for me. But he does. He say’s it with a chuckle, I imagine he probably threw in a comment about how I was raised in a barn or something like that. But she smiles back.
“Merci,” She replies and points out the window towards the back yard. With more color’s of green then I have ever seen in California she starts talking in French to JP.
“She says they have a BBQ. They BBQ out in the back when they weather is nice.” He translates for me. I am sure she told him to tell me this since most of the conversations I am never a part of.
“Really?” I comment back and then wonder, why would she tell me that? Doesn’t everyone BBQ? Isn’t that just what people do? But she just nods in my direction like it’s something special that not many have the privileged of doing.
Quentin came down from the upstairs to be with JP. Seeing father and son together, hugging each other was a site to see. They clung to each other like glue! They sat and talked for a bit more and both got up. It was my queue we were leaving, I am getting good at following body language. We are taking Quentin back to see JP’s parents for a visit.
JP hugged and kissed Martine as we walked out of the door and just as she closed it, he turned and looked at me, “what’s up with the blue eye’s?“ I burst into laughter.
Friday, August 12th, 1988 - Evening
We are sitting in yet another tavern (that’s what they are called.) and I am grateful that the American boy that lives next to his sister Catherine has come with us. Greg is in the Army and stationed here in Belgium. We spend the night sitting in the corner of this tavern while everyone else comes in starring at me. I smile and just when I feel as if the smile is beginning to fade I smile some more. I have never seen JP happier. His friends have all heard he was in town and they are pouring in to the tavern to say hello. Our table is full of people coming and going and most are staring at me. Most don’t say hello, they just look at me and talk to JP. Greg, the American, I am sure feels as if he needs to stay near me since I have no one else to talk to, I don’t understand the language and heaven forbid someone try and talk to me I wouldn’t know how to respond. I feel sorry for his wife Wendy as she sat next to him. I wonder if they are having as much fun as I am not at this very moment. I smile, as I watch people drinking, the more they drink the louder they become. The more I smile.
In walks this man, tall, messy dark hair, slightly over weight and loud! Could it be that he came from another tavern or is he just normally this loud without being drunk yet? He see’s me and I near duck under the table and he comes rushing up on me. Am I in trouble? What have I done? He came right up to me kissing me on my cheeks and talking to JP. My smile is gone and I am trying frantically to figure out just what or who this person is. That is when I hear it, people are calling him Fifi!
Fifi? Fifi is what we call our pet poodle’s in America. Fifi is not the name of a man. Not in America at least. He looks at JP and talks quickly to him. Why do they all talk so fast?
JP turns to me and tells me that Fifi said ‘An American girl is very beautiful’. Maybe a man named Fifi isn’t that bad after all.
Amsterdam, Holland
We are in Amsterdam now, leaving the airport and I think people are all really sick. They are all so nice and it’s really cold outside. Well, not that cold to be honest. But cold enough that I was glad to see the fiat rental car pull up. The car is huge! OK, that is an understatement. To be honest the car is big enough that I was grateful once we got it all loaded with our 3 pieces of luggage that there was still room in it for JP and I. Well, possibly, I am sitting with my carry-on on my lap.
We are flying down road A2 heading to Belgium. I say flying - because we are flying! The sky is cloudy and it is raining, this weather however does not stop JP from going 140 down the road. I have to keep remembering that it’s kilometer’s no miles. So really that’s just somewhere in the 80’s. Way to fast for me. But not enough to make me lose the smile on my face.
All the taxi’s here are Mercedes. Really, I was watching them back at the airport and when I asked JP, he looked at me like I was crazy for even asking. “Ya, So” was all he said. The country must be rich, is all I can think of, the the average taxi driver to drive a Mercedes Benz around.
Everywhere I turn there is more green. I noticed that as we were landing in the plane and now, as we are driving down the freeway. Everything is green. It’s not just one color of green, it’s every shade of green you could ever imagine. It’s like they were giving the 64 box of crayons and they took the sleeve that held all the green one’s and just dumped it over. Letting them fall over the fields and hills and wash past the freeways and creaks, mixing together making more colors as they blend. It’s a breathtaking mix of green.
We just passed a windmill!
The green color isn’t just the only change, I am noticing the cows. They look just like ours that we have in our country but these are stupid. They’re running all around and across the green fields. I have never seen cow’s just running. Maybe they are running for fun? Several of them are laying down and I ask JP “why are some of the cows laying down and other‘s running all over the place?” I’m thinking they might be hurt or something.
“They’re just cow’s” He says back. “They take better care of them here.” I believe him. How lucky the cow’s must be to be in this country then back in America just standing in one place.
He is driving faster, I know it’s because he wants to see his family and I can’t blame him. I would be the same. After the hours in the plane and now the near 4 hours getting to his parent’s house I am finding myself extremely nervous. It never really dawned on me I would be meeting his parent’s!
There is a little ‘eek’ feeling that rolls over in my stomach as we come down a hill and turn onto a city street. Zooming through the tiny skinny streets with rock buildings on both side’s I wonder, just how far away are we really? Do I have time to change my mind now? Will they like me? Probably not! I straighten what I can of my hair and clothing and get ready for what seems to be a meet and greet in the short future.
My heart starts to race as he turns the clown car onto a gravel road leading to just a few houses. We pull up to the one on the right and JP motions that it’s the one. I get out, being met by his sister who comes out of the house to meet us! She seems nice. I understand nothing of what she says as his parent’s follow behind her also. I stand there with a smile on my face, lost in the conversation that is going on around me and wait. I wait for the conversation to be translated for me to understand. I wait. I really wish I could speak French. I wait. They are talking so fast! I wait.
I follow them inside while I wait.
Friday, August 12th, 1988
Observations have shown that while the country is very green and buildings are very beautiful the mattress’ are very hard. I don’t even really know how to describe it, other then they just feel like a large bumpy old pillow thrown on a frame called a bed and people just sleep on them. Who care’s that you wake up all crooked and lopsided. I wonder, do they know that there are these large mattress’ out there that are wonderful and soft and cushiony and cradle you gently, drifting you into a loving sleep!
And what’s up with the cow under the bedroom window at 5 in the morning? That thing is noisy! Nearly ever morning at home I am woken up by the Harley Davidson neighbors with their - don’t they call them ‘Hogs?’ Well here in Belgium we have real life livestock to wake us up! How special is that?
We are heading out to visit his brother. He is a mail carrier so JP is hoping that he can catch up with him on his route.
We actually find him at the local pub, bar, saloon… what do they call ‘em? He is sitting on a stool, at the bar, drinking a beer! Never in America have I ever seen my postman sitting in a bar, drinking a beer in uniform with my mail on the stool next to him. OK, maybe I am sheltered.
We leave the bar and head back into the town of Dinant to pick up his son. I am again nervous, getting used to the feeling of knots living in my stomach. We pull up to a street with small skinny sidewalks and a large stone wall. The house, in the middle of town is large and European country in style. Something I would never be able to afford to recreate at home. A woman comes to the door and opens it. She is blond (not natural), very skinny, and wearing blue eye shadow. Blue? I catch myself starring at her eye lids not able to get passed the blue color. I haven’t seen that blue since the late 70’s. I am shocked even more to find that this woman is Martine, JP’s ex wife. She is pulling us into her house down the large hallway with the dark large woodwork into a sitting room. We go no further then the sitting room. We sit on the benches, they are talking fast French to each other, she keeps looking at me with odd glances and I wonder if it’s because I can not stop starring at her eye lids.
I wonder if JP still love’s her and still wishes he could be with her? I wonder if he was given the option if he would go back to her? I wonder how someone so pale and thin thinks dark blue eye shadow could possibly look good on her?
The conversation lull’s for a moment and I take a chance to talk. “I love your house, It’s beautiful!” JP looks embarrassed he has to translate it for me. But he does. He say’s it with a chuckle, I imagine he probably threw in a comment about how I was raised in a barn or something like that. But she smiles back.
“Merci,” She replies and points out the window towards the back yard. With more color’s of green then I have ever seen in California she starts talking in French to JP.
“She says they have a BBQ. They BBQ out in the back when they weather is nice.” He translates for me. I am sure she told him to tell me this since most of the conversations I am never a part of.
“Really?” I comment back and then wonder, why would she tell me that? Doesn’t everyone BBQ? Isn’t that just what people do? But she just nods in my direction like it’s something special that not many have the privileged of doing.
Quentin came down from the upstairs to be with JP. Seeing father and son together, hugging each other was a site to see. They clung to each other like glue! They sat and talked for a bit more and both got up. It was my queue we were leaving, I am getting good at following body language. We are taking Quentin back to see JP’s parents for a visit.
JP hugged and kissed Martine as we walked out of the door and just as she closed it, he turned and looked at me, “what’s up with the blue eye’s?“ I burst into laughter.
Friday, August 12th, 1988 - Evening
We are sitting in yet another tavern (that’s what they are called.) and I am grateful that the American boy that lives next to his sister Catherine has come with us. Greg is in the Army and stationed here in Belgium. We spend the night sitting in the corner of this tavern while everyone else comes in starring at me. I smile and just when I feel as if the smile is beginning to fade I smile some more. I have never seen JP happier. His friends have all heard he was in town and they are pouring in to the tavern to say hello. Our table is full of people coming and going and most are staring at me. Most don’t say hello, they just look at me and talk to JP. Greg, the American, I am sure feels as if he needs to stay near me since I have no one else to talk to, I don’t understand the language and heaven forbid someone try and talk to me I wouldn’t know how to respond. I feel sorry for his wife Wendy as she sat next to him. I wonder if they are having as much fun as I am not at this very moment. I smile, as I watch people drinking, the more they drink the louder they become. The more I smile.
In walks this man, tall, messy dark hair, slightly over weight and loud! Could it be that he came from another tavern or is he just normally this loud without being drunk yet? He see’s me and I near duck under the table and he comes rushing up on me. Am I in trouble? What have I done? He came right up to me kissing me on my cheeks and talking to JP. My smile is gone and I am trying frantically to figure out just what or who this person is. That is when I hear it, people are calling him Fifi!
Fifi? Fifi is what we call our pet poodle’s in America. Fifi is not the name of a man. Not in America at least. He looks at JP and talks quickly to him. Why do they all talk so fast?
JP turns to me and tells me that Fifi said ‘An American girl is very beautiful’. Maybe a man named Fifi isn’t that bad after all.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Chapter 8 - I'm Insane
Wednesday, April 13th, 1988
I'm not doing good right now.
How do you know when your going insane? Is there a moment in time when you realize it and you know that's when you need to seek help? And when you come to that moment will you know it? When you know it, who do you call? Who is the person you call and ask for help?
Oh God I think I am going insane!
I can't sleep, I can't calm down, and I don't know what to do. JP and I aren't doing really good right now. I really think I need help, but I don't know what to do. It's all my fault! I'm supposed to do it whenever he wants it right? How do wives do it just at a moments notice? What happens when they don't want to or really do have a headache? How do they still do it?
JP wanted to have sex last night and I just plain wasn't in the mood. I should have known the consequences it would have had on me. I should have just done it, It would have made him happy and I wouldn't be feeling this way. He is so upset with me, not the 'I'm going to ignore you upset', he's letting me know every chance he gets that I'm a bitch and a cunt and I'm selfish!
I wanna go home, sit in my sweats with a bowl of ice cream and sit outside. I wanna eat ice cream while I watch the car's pass by on the street behind me. People watch as they go on their nightly walk. It sounds simple and heavenly, but I'm to scared to go home. I don't want to be in the apartment all by myself, I want to be with my husband having him hold me in his arms, touching me. I want the feeling of safety, the feeling that no one will hurt me and that I am safe.
I am scared.
I'm sacred that if he is home he will continue to yell at me and call me names.
I'm scared that if he isn't home I will start to cry and I will never be able to stop.
Oh god who do I call for help?
Thursday, April 14th, 1988
I'm still hurting, It seems to be a constant pain now. It's upsetting, is this the way I will be the rest of my life? I feel like running to my Mommy's, but Mommy is hours away. Besides I need to handle this myself. My world is falling apart!!
The woman down stairs is upset with me. JP told me she was very rude to him telling him that I better just mind my own business. I don't know what that means. Other then knocking on her door awhile ago about her music, I keep to myself!
Stacie next door to her used to be my friend, or so I thought. She's upset with me now, that I wouldn't tell her what was going on. I told her I didn't know but she shrugged me off and went to Dee Dee's apartment to talk to her. JP is right, my friends just use me. When they don't get what they want, they don't want to be friends with me.
JP is mad at me still. I honestly don't know what I would do without him. What happens if he leaves me? What do I do? Is he only with me so he can get his green card? What happens after he gets it? Will he leave me? Why does it seem like everyone I used to be friends with now is telling me I'm a horrible person? I know I treat JP like shit, I know he doesn't like it when I talk so much and 'build a clock' as he says. Chrissy is always climbing all over me meowing for attention. I can never seem to give her enough attention. I'm a horrible person I would be a horrible mother. Oh god, I am so glad I am not a mother, I would be a terrible one! I'm just so lonely all the time.
Forget it if they don't want to be friends with me. I have lots of things that could keep me busy. I could join a group, I have a lot of spare time. A group would be good, if I knew how to join one. I don't need friends. What I need is to learn to keep my mouth shut. Speak only when spoken to, and say only what is needed to say. I can't afford to hurt my marriage anymore then it is. It's 6:40pm, he hasn't called. Is he going to come home? Or has he found someone better and left me for her? Leaving me with all the bills.
I wish I was stupid. I wish I was a stupid blond girl who was married to a man that took care of everything for her.
Why do people misunderstand me? Why don't they want to get to know me? Why does it always seem to backfire on me when I try and make friends with them? It's 6:50pm, he still hasn't called. I want him to come home, be with me. I promise to be in the mood when he does, or at least pretend I am.
Saturday, April 16th, 1988
I'm tired of it! I'm just fed up and sick of all the fighting everywhere. I'm just going to sit here and wait for JP to leave me. Really there isn't much more I can do! I love him so much, but this treatment is tearing me up. I know I love him, if I didn't our fights wouldn't hurt so much. Everyone has called me Bitch or told me I am just rude when I say good morning to them. I'm beginning to believe them. I really can't argue with them, I can't remember being rude to them or mean, but they really seem to be mad at me. I never used to be like this before, I never used to get into arguments ever. Unless it was with Jennifer, but aren't we supposed to fight with our sisters? I don't think they realized just how much they hurt me when they said those things to me. I don't have the foggiest idea how I can change to make it better. I don't want to hurt anyone else like this, but how do I make sure I don't do this thing I did to someone else?
I'm not sure about my future. I'm just going to take it day by day right now. My cat and me! That's all I have. If he wants to leave me, I don't know what I would do. I would have to move that's for sure. I can't afford this place on my own. I'm scared to talk to him, if I say the wrong thing I'm scared he will get mad. He likes to hit me when he gets mad. Most of all I'm scared to do something that will make him leave me.
When we first got together I used to go out all the time and visit with my friends. He would just sit at home. I felt so horrible that he was home alone so I stopped going out. All my friends are now off with other friends and what do you know, JP now starts going out, now that I'm home all the time. What is the balance? Aren't I supposed to be home, making a home for us? Aren't I supposed to find this fulfilling and be happy about it?
I seriously wish I knew who to call when I needed help! I can't even afford to have a break down. I'm sure even that costs money. Money I just don't have, I'm still paying off credit cards I don't even have use of!
I'm not doing good right now.
How do you know when your going insane? Is there a moment in time when you realize it and you know that's when you need to seek help? And when you come to that moment will you know it? When you know it, who do you call? Who is the person you call and ask for help?
Oh God I think I am going insane!
I can't sleep, I can't calm down, and I don't know what to do. JP and I aren't doing really good right now. I really think I need help, but I don't know what to do. It's all my fault! I'm supposed to do it whenever he wants it right? How do wives do it just at a moments notice? What happens when they don't want to or really do have a headache? How do they still do it?
JP wanted to have sex last night and I just plain wasn't in the mood. I should have known the consequences it would have had on me. I should have just done it, It would have made him happy and I wouldn't be feeling this way. He is so upset with me, not the 'I'm going to ignore you upset', he's letting me know every chance he gets that I'm a bitch and a cunt and I'm selfish!
I wanna go home, sit in my sweats with a bowl of ice cream and sit outside. I wanna eat ice cream while I watch the car's pass by on the street behind me. People watch as they go on their nightly walk. It sounds simple and heavenly, but I'm to scared to go home. I don't want to be in the apartment all by myself, I want to be with my husband having him hold me in his arms, touching me. I want the feeling of safety, the feeling that no one will hurt me and that I am safe.
I am scared.
I'm sacred that if he is home he will continue to yell at me and call me names.
I'm scared that if he isn't home I will start to cry and I will never be able to stop.
Oh god who do I call for help?
Thursday, April 14th, 1988
I'm still hurting, It seems to be a constant pain now. It's upsetting, is this the way I will be the rest of my life? I feel like running to my Mommy's, but Mommy is hours away. Besides I need to handle this myself. My world is falling apart!!
The woman down stairs is upset with me. JP told me she was very rude to him telling him that I better just mind my own business. I don't know what that means. Other then knocking on her door awhile ago about her music, I keep to myself!
Stacie next door to her used to be my friend, or so I thought. She's upset with me now, that I wouldn't tell her what was going on. I told her I didn't know but she shrugged me off and went to Dee Dee's apartment to talk to her. JP is right, my friends just use me. When they don't get what they want, they don't want to be friends with me.
JP is mad at me still. I honestly don't know what I would do without him. What happens if he leaves me? What do I do? Is he only with me so he can get his green card? What happens after he gets it? Will he leave me? Why does it seem like everyone I used to be friends with now is telling me I'm a horrible person? I know I treat JP like shit, I know he doesn't like it when I talk so much and 'build a clock' as he says. Chrissy is always climbing all over me meowing for attention. I can never seem to give her enough attention. I'm a horrible person I would be a horrible mother. Oh god, I am so glad I am not a mother, I would be a terrible one! I'm just so lonely all the time.
Forget it if they don't want to be friends with me. I have lots of things that could keep me busy. I could join a group, I have a lot of spare time. A group would be good, if I knew how to join one. I don't need friends. What I need is to learn to keep my mouth shut. Speak only when spoken to, and say only what is needed to say. I can't afford to hurt my marriage anymore then it is. It's 6:40pm, he hasn't called. Is he going to come home? Or has he found someone better and left me for her? Leaving me with all the bills.
I wish I was stupid. I wish I was a stupid blond girl who was married to a man that took care of everything for her.
Why do people misunderstand me? Why don't they want to get to know me? Why does it always seem to backfire on me when I try and make friends with them? It's 6:50pm, he still hasn't called. I want him to come home, be with me. I promise to be in the mood when he does, or at least pretend I am.
Saturday, April 16th, 1988
I'm tired of it! I'm just fed up and sick of all the fighting everywhere. I'm just going to sit here and wait for JP to leave me. Really there isn't much more I can do! I love him so much, but this treatment is tearing me up. I know I love him, if I didn't our fights wouldn't hurt so much. Everyone has called me Bitch or told me I am just rude when I say good morning to them. I'm beginning to believe them. I really can't argue with them, I can't remember being rude to them or mean, but they really seem to be mad at me. I never used to be like this before, I never used to get into arguments ever. Unless it was with Jennifer, but aren't we supposed to fight with our sisters? I don't think they realized just how much they hurt me when they said those things to me. I don't have the foggiest idea how I can change to make it better. I don't want to hurt anyone else like this, but how do I make sure I don't do this thing I did to someone else?
I'm not sure about my future. I'm just going to take it day by day right now. My cat and me! That's all I have. If he wants to leave me, I don't know what I would do. I would have to move that's for sure. I can't afford this place on my own. I'm scared to talk to him, if I say the wrong thing I'm scared he will get mad. He likes to hit me when he gets mad. Most of all I'm scared to do something that will make him leave me.
When we first got together I used to go out all the time and visit with my friends. He would just sit at home. I felt so horrible that he was home alone so I stopped going out. All my friends are now off with other friends and what do you know, JP now starts going out, now that I'm home all the time. What is the balance? Aren't I supposed to be home, making a home for us? Aren't I supposed to find this fulfilling and be happy about it?
I seriously wish I knew who to call when I needed help! I can't even afford to have a break down. I'm sure even that costs money. Money I just don't have, I'm still paying off credit cards I don't even have use of!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Chapter 7 - It Starts
Thursday, February 4th, 1988
I am running as fast as I can. The ground is covered in a foggy mist, hovering, keeping me from seeing my feet. I am lost and running trying to get home in the bitter coldness that is surrounding me. There are several door's in front of me and I frantically search for the one my key fits into. After trying several doors I finally come to the one that my key fits into. I am turning the knob, my heart pounding and as the door starts to open I stop. Fear overtakes me and I start to back up slowly. That is when it happens. A hand comes out of the door, just the hand, grabs me around the neck and pulls me into the house. I am kicking and screaming. People are now outside watching me. Laughing at me. I am inside, fighting to get free when the door slams shut!
I awake in a panic barely able to breath. Laying in bed, I glance at the clock. It is 4:42 am. Freezing, I reach for the covers and realize they have once again been taken by JP. I reach down and pull the small lap blanket that I have at my side of the bed and gently cover myself with the blanket. Careful not to wake up JP. I lay in bed, my toes frozen still uncovered, thinking of the dream I just had and wonder why. I haven't had such horrible nightmares since I was a small child.
Sunday, March 14th, 1988
"Hey lets go to the mall?" I ask as JP sits on the couch.
"Na," He grunts.
I plop myself down next to him. Not touching him but watching him. "Wanna go to the movies?"
"And see what?" He asks.
I know he will not see a 'chick flick', he likes the movies were people are killed in the first 2 minutes of the movie. "You chose! What ever movie you want."
"Na" He grunts again.
I'm frustrated. "I wanna do something." I whine
"Then clean the fucking house it's a mess!" He replies never taking his eyes off the television. The cars racing around in a circle I don't understand why someone would watch car's racing around a track.
"And what are you going to do?" I ask. Knowing fully well that he is going to sit around all day watching racing then go over to Ron's house and get stoned and drink himself into a stoned and drunken stupor then come home and want sex. He's getting a little predictable and we haven't even been married a year.
"Damit! You know I work hard all week! I just want to relax" He says as he turns in my direction. His eyes glaring at me.
"And I haven't? Worked all week at work and at home? I'm tired also and I wanna spend time with my husband." I said it as sweet as I could. Even if he wanted to go now, I know I wouldn't want to be around him for the rest of the day. He will now be in a really foul mood, all at my expense.
"poo" He waves his hand in the air as if dismissing me. "You do what you want."
"So then who will clean the house?" I might as well continue and make my point now.
"I have no problem with cleaning the house." He says, nearly blowing me over.
"Really? Well fool me, cause you never do it. I've never seen you clean the bathroom!"
His voice raises, "Fuck you! You want me to do it, just leave it, I'll do it when I have time!"
I stand off to the side of him watching him sitting there, watching cars drive around in a circle. I have no idea what he sees in this 'sport' as he calls it, but I know he won't 'have' time to clean the bathroom let alone just the toilet. He never does. Last time he told me to 'leave it' I did. 2 months later, totally disgusted I cleaned the toilet that was black inside. How he could sit on it let alone stand and pee as he watched it was beyond me. In fact, how can a man, that stands and pees into a toilet tell you he didn't notice 'it' was dirty? Don't you look at it everyday. I at least can say I was staring at the wall on the opposite side of the toilet.
I am sad and angery all at once. I had big plans for us. But I can't live here like this. Sometimes I think about disappearing and never coming back. I wonder if I would be missed. I would of course tell my parents where I went. But I wouldn't tell JP. I would move away and start a new life. Make friends with a whole new crowd and learn to be truly happy again. I am again dreaming. I'm tired of JP telling me I don't have any friends. My Goodness, how come I was always busy when I was single? Always had somewhere to go and something to do, and why do I spend all my time at work writing letters to my friends? JP pisses me off for what he says, I stay home to do his share of the work cause he never does it. If he wants me to do all the housework then he needs to make enough money and stop spending money like its water so I can just stay home.
All this anger and all I wanted was to spend a few hours with my husband. Is it not to much to ask for my husband to want to be with me or talk to me? The only conversation we ever have is me pulling information out of him. Sometimes I feel like I intentionally start a fight just so I can have someone to talk to.
Tuesday, April 12th, 1988
The woman downstairs from us, Dee Dee, is becoming a real pain. She has complained on us several times for running our dishwasher after 7pm and walking loudly. Does she even understand that when she slams her garage door every nite when she comes home at 2 in the morning she wakes us up? The door is directly under our bedroom. I should be used to the door slamming by now, but I jump each time I hear it. JP gets angry first at her for slamming it and waking him up, and then at me for jumping and startling him.
Last weekend she was playing her music very loud and I walked down to ask her to turn it down. She wouldn't open her door. The next day JP comes up here and tells me the woman down stairs thinks I'm a maniac. "Did you tell her that you were the one upset with her music? That the only reason I went down there was because you wanted her to turn it down?" I knew he didn't. JP walked away.
It's like this all the time. JP complains constantly about something and when I finally go and try to get it changed, so he will shut up and let it go, I am the one that is considered to be rude or mean. Yet, if I leave it and don't try and take care of what he is upset about, it gets intolerable in this house. I just can't seem to ever win. I'm just tired. No one seems to understand me. I mean I honestly try to get along with people. I talk so much I know they get sick of me.
I just need someone to talk to, or hold me. I don't think he cares for me as much, I know JP is upset with me. He always take me the wrong way? He says I'm always mean, rude or impolite to him when I was just trying to help him.
I truly believe its the Walloon/American differences. If we both were raised with the same background, we would probably get along with each other really well.
My nightmares are becoming worse. I rarely sleep anymore. I seem to always be dreaming about how I screwed up my life by getting married to this man.
I am running as fast as I can. The ground is covered in a foggy mist, hovering, keeping me from seeing my feet. I am lost and running trying to get home in the bitter coldness that is surrounding me. There are several door's in front of me and I frantically search for the one my key fits into. After trying several doors I finally come to the one that my key fits into. I am turning the knob, my heart pounding and as the door starts to open I stop. Fear overtakes me and I start to back up slowly. That is when it happens. A hand comes out of the door, just the hand, grabs me around the neck and pulls me into the house. I am kicking and screaming. People are now outside watching me. Laughing at me. I am inside, fighting to get free when the door slams shut!
I awake in a panic barely able to breath. Laying in bed, I glance at the clock. It is 4:42 am. Freezing, I reach for the covers and realize they have once again been taken by JP. I reach down and pull the small lap blanket that I have at my side of the bed and gently cover myself with the blanket. Careful not to wake up JP. I lay in bed, my toes frozen still uncovered, thinking of the dream I just had and wonder why. I haven't had such horrible nightmares since I was a small child.
Sunday, March 14th, 1988
"Hey lets go to the mall?" I ask as JP sits on the couch.
"Na," He grunts.
I plop myself down next to him. Not touching him but watching him. "Wanna go to the movies?"
"And see what?" He asks.
I know he will not see a 'chick flick', he likes the movies were people are killed in the first 2 minutes of the movie. "You chose! What ever movie you want."
"Na" He grunts again.
I'm frustrated. "I wanna do something." I whine
"Then clean the fucking house it's a mess!" He replies never taking his eyes off the television. The cars racing around in a circle I don't understand why someone would watch car's racing around a track.
"And what are you going to do?" I ask. Knowing fully well that he is going to sit around all day watching racing then go over to Ron's house and get stoned and drink himself into a stoned and drunken stupor then come home and want sex. He's getting a little predictable and we haven't even been married a year.
"Damit! You know I work hard all week! I just want to relax" He says as he turns in my direction. His eyes glaring at me.
"And I haven't? Worked all week at work and at home? I'm tired also and I wanna spend time with my husband." I said it as sweet as I could. Even if he wanted to go now, I know I wouldn't want to be around him for the rest of the day. He will now be in a really foul mood, all at my expense.
"poo" He waves his hand in the air as if dismissing me. "You do what you want."
"So then who will clean the house?" I might as well continue and make my point now.
"I have no problem with cleaning the house." He says, nearly blowing me over.
"Really? Well fool me, cause you never do it. I've never seen you clean the bathroom!"
His voice raises, "Fuck you! You want me to do it, just leave it, I'll do it when I have time!"
I stand off to the side of him watching him sitting there, watching cars drive around in a circle. I have no idea what he sees in this 'sport' as he calls it, but I know he won't 'have' time to clean the bathroom let alone just the toilet. He never does. Last time he told me to 'leave it' I did. 2 months later, totally disgusted I cleaned the toilet that was black inside. How he could sit on it let alone stand and pee as he watched it was beyond me. In fact, how can a man, that stands and pees into a toilet tell you he didn't notice 'it' was dirty? Don't you look at it everyday. I at least can say I was staring at the wall on the opposite side of the toilet.
I am sad and angery all at once. I had big plans for us. But I can't live here like this. Sometimes I think about disappearing and never coming back. I wonder if I would be missed. I would of course tell my parents where I went. But I wouldn't tell JP. I would move away and start a new life. Make friends with a whole new crowd and learn to be truly happy again. I am again dreaming. I'm tired of JP telling me I don't have any friends. My Goodness, how come I was always busy when I was single? Always had somewhere to go and something to do, and why do I spend all my time at work writing letters to my friends? JP pisses me off for what he says, I stay home to do his share of the work cause he never does it. If he wants me to do all the housework then he needs to make enough money and stop spending money like its water so I can just stay home.
All this anger and all I wanted was to spend a few hours with my husband. Is it not to much to ask for my husband to want to be with me or talk to me? The only conversation we ever have is me pulling information out of him. Sometimes I feel like I intentionally start a fight just so I can have someone to talk to.
Tuesday, April 12th, 1988
The woman downstairs from us, Dee Dee, is becoming a real pain. She has complained on us several times for running our dishwasher after 7pm and walking loudly. Does she even understand that when she slams her garage door every nite when she comes home at 2 in the morning she wakes us up? The door is directly under our bedroom. I should be used to the door slamming by now, but I jump each time I hear it. JP gets angry first at her for slamming it and waking him up, and then at me for jumping and startling him.
Last weekend she was playing her music very loud and I walked down to ask her to turn it down. She wouldn't open her door. The next day JP comes up here and tells me the woman down stairs thinks I'm a maniac. "Did you tell her that you were the one upset with her music? That the only reason I went down there was because you wanted her to turn it down?" I knew he didn't. JP walked away.
It's like this all the time. JP complains constantly about something and when I finally go and try to get it changed, so he will shut up and let it go, I am the one that is considered to be rude or mean. Yet, if I leave it and don't try and take care of what he is upset about, it gets intolerable in this house. I just can't seem to ever win. I'm just tired. No one seems to understand me. I mean I honestly try to get along with people. I talk so much I know they get sick of me.
I just need someone to talk to, or hold me. I don't think he cares for me as much, I know JP is upset with me. He always take me the wrong way? He says I'm always mean, rude or impolite to him when I was just trying to help him.
I truly believe its the Walloon/American differences. If we both were raised with the same background, we would probably get along with each other really well.
My nightmares are becoming worse. I rarely sleep anymore. I seem to always be dreaming about how I screwed up my life by getting married to this man.
Chapter 6 - Money Isn't Everything - Or Is It?
Monday, November 16th, 1987
It's 5:23pm as I drive into the apartment complex. My 914 black Porsche sporting its nice red 'For-Sale' sign in the small back window. We bought a new car just a week ago. JP took it to work today, and I am left with the task of trying to sell my car. I love this car, the feeling of driving it, whipping in and out of parking lots and cruise through Pacheco Pass when I visit my family in Fresno. JP says he is tired of fixing it all the time. I'm mixed, it would be nice not to have to worry about my car getting me to and from work, but I like my Porsche, even if it is called a 'poor man's Porsche'. I park it in the first available stall and head to the mailboxes. My hands full, I struggle to pull out our mail, there again is a ton. I add it to my load and head upstairs. It's time to pay the bills. I know I am late, I need to start paying them on time. So today, before JP gets home, I will do my best effort at getting caught up!
We finally sold the celica for $1,700.00. They bought it even after we told them we didn't know what the noise it was making was. I was surprised and very happy! It takes a lot of weight off my shoulders. However, today the buyer called and told me the transmission was shot and they wanted us to fix it. I think you could have heard my heart hit the floor. I called JP at work and told him about it. I mean they purchased the car that way. Full disclosure, but then I do work with the buyer. I just want to give them back the money and take the car back. I'm just going to leave it up to JP, he says he might be able to fix it. I know nothing about cars. Well, JP knows more that's for sure.
The money from the sale was nice however, It's going to help us get even further out of debt. Especially since we went and bought a new TV over the weekend. JP didn't like watching my old black and white 13 inch TV I bought from Gemco. Who could blame him, but really, it was paid for and all ours. In all honesty, I paid 15 dollars for it during their whole going out of business sale a few years back. The new one he picked out is so huge it barely fit in the entertainment center. It came with a remote, so no more getting up to change the channels. I wonder if that's really a good thing.
So now, I just have my car to sell and we can get out of major debt.
I throw the mail on the dining room table and kick off my shoes as I walk to put my lunch bag away in the kitchen. It's a mess as usual. But, it's bill time. I have to get that under control. I grab a soda from the fridge and sit myself down at the table. Wouldn't it be nice if Jon Paul was next to me, if we shared this monthly experience? Each taking turns writing out the checks and sticking the postage on the envelopes. Walking hand in hand to the mail box to mail away our monthly salary.
I know I am dreaming. It would be asking to much for him to sit down with me to help with this. I would be satisfied if he would stop using the ATM machine on a daily basis. It amazes me how little he claims to know about American finances but yet he has mastered the ATM machine better then any other American I know. Now, if he could only realize that the 'available balance' that is on the receipt is not how much that is truly in our account!
I pull out all the mail and add it to today's pile. Bill by bill I open up all the envelopes as I start to pile them up. Visa, Nordstrom's, Mastercard, American Express, Macy's... Macy's? When did that one come? Chevron, Chevron?? My eye's are trying to register and it hits me! My head hits the table cushioned by the stack of credit card bills on the table. It doesn't hurt at all. He is again applying for more credit! I sit for a moment, fighting back the tears, then holding back my anger and tell my self 'just breathe! Sammy, Just breathe. In and out. In and out.' The overwhelming feeling of debt is incredibly difficult to handle. My chest is tight and my breathing laboring, my stomach is turning over and I feel as if I am going to throw up. 'Breathe Sammy... Breath!!' is all my brain can relay. I am waving my right hand in front of me as if to fan away the tears that are flowing freely from my eyes. I am gasping for what little air I can get inside of my lungs and wonder if this is what my sister's asthma attacks feel like?
My body starts to rock itself back and forth, it is a motion I find myself doing often lately. It is the same motion my mother would do for me when I was hurt or upset. She would lovingly pull me up into her wooden rocking chair and we would rock back and forth all the while she would be caressing my long hair and whispering 'sshhhh, it's ok sweetie, your ok'. I would lay in her arms, press my ear onto her chest and listen to her voice vibrate through her chest. The thought is comforting and I feel myself calming down as my body rocking is slowing.
After several minutes, my head still down, eyes closed, my mind whirling, an overwhelming determination flows over me. I want to be debt free! I'm the one that pays the bills and every month I have to juggle which bills to pay and which to hold over. I'm tired of it. I hear my father telling me "Don't owe anyone money. Always pay your bills." I raise my head and count the credit card bills. 13 credit cards. I look in my wallet and count the ones I have, 5. I look over the balances of the bills and realize, just when he max's one out, he appears to be applying for another.
At this rate I will be in debt for the rest of my life! Does he not understand how this country works. We are free here to do what we want, but we must pay back all our debt. They don't hand you money for free! Then it hits me! I take a piece of paper and write all the credit cards and balances on them. I list them in order from the highest balance to the lowest. At the top of the paper I put the 1,700 figure from the sale of the celica. I add of all the minimum payments, subtract it from the 1700 and with the amount we have left, I pick a card with a balance I can pay off. I pick up the phone and call JP at work. "JP?"
"Ya, what's up?"
I play dumb, "Do you have a Capwell card?"
"Ya, why?" He asks as if he was just busted. I wonder 'who does he think it is that writes these monthly checks?'.
"Well they just called and told us we were above our limit and they are going to close the account. We have to stop using it." I continue. "They want us to send it back to them."
"OK"
"So will you bring it home with you so I can send it in with the payment like they're asking us to do?" I lied further.
"Sure." He hung up before I could ask him when he was coming home.
I put a star near the Capwell card on my list. It's 1 of 13! As I pay the rest of the bills I realize I am able to pay another credit card off and make a note to call him in 1-2 weeks and let him know that card was also cancelled. I of course have no idea why. In a way, I feel a ting of guilt for lying. I look at the stack of bills to mail off and It fades me quickly. I have plans. I want to go to Belgium and I want a child. I want to be debt free!
I map out our average monthly salary with what we currently owe. If I can get him to stop taking money out of the ATM machine and stop charging on the cards. We may just be debt free by January. Here I am a mere 20 years old totally in debt and I can't help but smile, he believed me!
Thank you Mom and Dad for those acting lessons you sent me to. Little did you know what good use I would put them to.
Night
Dinner is ready and I can hear JP walking in the door. I get his meal served up by the time he walks in the door. He walks in kisses me as he passes and sits to eat. "What did you do all day the house is a mess?"
"I was paying bills. I'll get to the house." I pause for effect. "Oh that reminds me honey, do you have the Capwell card?"
He grunts, fishes it out of his wallet and flops it down on the table. "I don't even use that thing"
"Well, there a little upset we're over our limit. They wanted it back." I fish through my purse, find the envelope with the bill in it and make a point of exaggerating my putting it in the envelope. Sealing it up and putting it back in my purse. "I'll mail it tomorrow." Tomorrow when I get to work, I will unseal the envelope and cut up the card.
JP doesn't talk anymore about the bills. He doesn't tell me there will be more credit card statements on the way. He sits in front of me as we eat our dinner. For once we aren't fighting. He is in a good mood. I vow in silence we will be debt free even if I have to lie to him about it.
Tuesday, November 17th, 1987
"Whats for dinner?" JP asks as he walks into the kitchen.
"Hmm, your favorite!" I exclaim.
He stops and looks at the pan. I am pulling the fries out of the oven and putting his steak on his plate. "There's only 1?" He asks as he sees I have only made one steak.
"Yep, just for you!" I tell him as I hand him the plate. I take the lid off the pot on the back burner and stir the noddles that are in the boiling water. "I'm making myself something different." I have taken to making him what he wants to eat as much as possible. Since steaks are expensive, I settle for Kraft Mac-n-Cheese, knowing he will be able to have another steak sooner.
JP grabs a fork and steak knife and sits down at the table. Without a second thought he starts cutting his steak and eating his fries. I look at him for a brief moment. Realizing I am starring at him and quickly turn and focus on my dinner that is near ready. 'He didn't even ask if I wanted him to wait for my dinner'. By the time I get the butter and milk mixed into the noodles and cheese he is done. He gets up and puts his plate in the sink and walks over to the TV, where I know he will be the remainder of the night. I missed my chance to have dinner with my husband.
I sit at the table with my bowl of mac-n-cheese. I can't help but think about how much I really hate mac-n-cheese and how rude it was to just eat your dinner and not even consider waiting for me. I guess I can't blame JP, he probably didn't realize it. I look at him in the living room, watching TV as I sit and eat my dinner. I love him. I truly love him. I would do anything for this mystery man, if he would just tell me what it is he wants.
I finish my dinner and head over to Anna's house, with the hopes she has made some awesome cookies, like she always does. I know I'm leaving JP at home, but from experience he will either sit on the couch or head over to Ron's house to get stoned. I'm going to bet he probably doesn't even notice I am gone. Besides, I am looking forward to the one on one female conversation.
Saturday, November 21st, 1987 Evening
This is my first full day of coat check. I am sitting in a closet, in charge of watching 18 furry coats at the La Rinconada Country Club. It really is a tough job, but someone has to do it! Not to mention, I get paid to do this! I'm sitting here all my myself and find it is peaceful, relaxing and very comforting. I count my tips as the night goes on, each dollar is one dollar closer to being debt free!
There is a light in here just above me, that flickers terribly. I'm guessing it wants to go out. I try to tell it that I need it to keep working. Willing it to stay on! It just flickers on a continuous basis, giving me a headache, but nothing I can't handle.
I was able to pay off 2 of JP's tickets. They only cost 152.00, much better then the 500.00 I thought it would be. I can't begin to tell you how much I love my life at this moment, everything is right in place. I keep waiting for something to happen. I guess that’s life though. I'm in love with Jon Paul. I don’t want to loose him. He says he’ll never leave me, but some day's I feel he will. That's me, a worry wart all the way, and a little nit picky. I'm working on the last.
We talked about having a baby. JP actually was open to it. I thought since he already had a child in Belgium that he wouldn't want another one. But he told me we could probably start trying next summer. It's exciting known that I have something to look forward to, a goal to get all our bills paid off by then for sure.
I am excited. Tomorrow my sister comes to town. JP likes her a lot so we are planning to meet up with her in Union City!
Monday, November 23rd, 1987
Night
We got into a car accident on our way to our friends house. Our brand new Isuzu Impulse is totalled! Wrecked beyond belief and I haven't even gotten the payment coupon book yet.
I was sitting at a stop light and a car behind us slammed right into the back of me. JP was in the passenger seat, thank goodness he is OK. Our car was slammed into the car in front of it and that car slammed into the car in front of it. So we have front and rear damage. JP says we will be lucky if they don't total the car. Thank goodness I insisted on going and getting insurance the day we bought it.
JP was awesome, he took care of everything and made sure I was OK and helped everyone else with their vehicles. I have a headache and my neck hurts really bad, but I'm not complaining, it's not that bad. I am just so tired now I just want to go home and go to sleep.
Saturday, November 28th, 1987
JP called Zacharie today to wish him happy birthday. Apparently he was polite and everything. He was having his birthday party with 11 of his friends. JP doesn't talk much about his son, and I have stopped asking since it usually ends up in a fight. I just wish Zboy would come and visit us sometime. That would be awesome to actually get to meet his son and I just know JP would be so happy with that.
We could be a complete family then. No more fighting, just lots of loving! I can't wait to have a baby and start our family. I would never leave JP like his ex-wife left him. NEVER!
Sometimes I wish I could give this journal to JP and let him read this maybe then he would know how much I love him and that I'm always going to be here for him.
Saturday, December 5th, 1987
I had a busy week and it doesn't seem to be getting any better anytime soon. Yesterday, after work, I went and put a deposit down on a guitar I bought for JP for Christmas. I think he will really like it, or i hope he will. He better, it was $300.00. It was the first time I ever put something on law away. I got home with enough time to change and leave for coat checking. I found a joint in JP's jacket. We fought again about his pot smoking. You don't have to do drugs to have a good time. But he just doesn't seem to understand that. I left for work and when I came home he was already asleep.
Tonight I am working coat checking again at the country club. I am hoping to make a lot of money. Right now, I have 80 coats that I am in charge of watching. If each person just gives me 1 dollar that would be 80.00! I would then only owe 220! That's asking for a little much. Not everyone tips me when they pick up their coats. The money I made yesterday I used for grocery shopping today before I came in to work. Tomorrow I have to drive to Visalia and be back in enough time to get some sleep and work on Monday.
What I wouldn't give to just have one day to sit and do nothing. But that never happens, I just need to stop dreaming about it.
Monday, December 7th, 1987
Work is hard when you are tired. I was able to pull off answering all the phones and being nice without anyone knowing I was exhausted. I got back from Visalia around 11:30 pm, threw myself into bed only to wake up 6 hours later to start my day. It's nice though having my hair cut and visiting with my family and friends. While the drive is long both ways for one day, the sound of the stereo tuned to my music and space in the car to myself is priceless.
Today is bill paying day. I am determined to pay off at least one more bill. JP doesn't even know what's hitting him. I wonder what he thinks is really going on with our bills and credit? I don't care anymore. He left it to me to handle so I am handling it. I have them all piled up on the table and start off with listing them out. This month my goal is to cancel the Nordstrom card, it is again a card that only he has. With it being December I don't feel comfortable paying off to much. We do need money for presents.
I write all the checks, placing them in there envelopes, addressed and stamped and waiting. JP isn't home yet so I call his work. My eyes closed, listening to the phone ring, I shake my whole body as if preparing myself for my acting gig.
"Hello" His boss answer's. It's my cue.
I quiver my voice slightly as if I am upset "Hello, is John Paul there?"
"Ya, hang on." I hear him put down the phone and call for JP in the background to come to the phone."
"Oui?"
{action} "JP I just got a call from Nordstrom's!"
"Ya? What they want?"
"They say we have to turn in our cards!" I sniff as if I had been crying. Gulping a little over the phone.
"Ya? I thought that would happen. They froze it few months ago when I tried to use it I thought if I didn't use it it would be good for awhile." He paused.
I help my breath. He tried using it a few months ago? Who does he think pays the bill even if your not using it? I look at the table with the envelope sitting on it that holds the payoff payment in it. "They want their cards back." Sniff.
"Fuck em, they can have em!"
I was smiling full force. Shook my head, returned to character to finish the call. "I just don't like this" I sniff and pretend as if I am crying.
"Fuck em. I bring the card back and we forget about em." He says. "I gotta go back to work." He hangs up.
I place the phone back on the cradle. Facing the phone and flalling my arms out in front of me take the largest bow in honor of my performance. The audience would have given me a standing ovation.
It's 5:23pm as I drive into the apartment complex. My 914 black Porsche sporting its nice red 'For-Sale' sign in the small back window. We bought a new car just a week ago. JP took it to work today, and I am left with the task of trying to sell my car. I love this car, the feeling of driving it, whipping in and out of parking lots and cruise through Pacheco Pass when I visit my family in Fresno. JP says he is tired of fixing it all the time. I'm mixed, it would be nice not to have to worry about my car getting me to and from work, but I like my Porsche, even if it is called a 'poor man's Porsche'. I park it in the first available stall and head to the mailboxes. My hands full, I struggle to pull out our mail, there again is a ton. I add it to my load and head upstairs. It's time to pay the bills. I know I am late, I need to start paying them on time. So today, before JP gets home, I will do my best effort at getting caught up!
We finally sold the celica for $1,700.00. They bought it even after we told them we didn't know what the noise it was making was. I was surprised and very happy! It takes a lot of weight off my shoulders. However, today the buyer called and told me the transmission was shot and they wanted us to fix it. I think you could have heard my heart hit the floor. I called JP at work and told him about it. I mean they purchased the car that way. Full disclosure, but then I do work with the buyer. I just want to give them back the money and take the car back. I'm just going to leave it up to JP, he says he might be able to fix it. I know nothing about cars. Well, JP knows more that's for sure.
The money from the sale was nice however, It's going to help us get even further out of debt. Especially since we went and bought a new TV over the weekend. JP didn't like watching my old black and white 13 inch TV I bought from Gemco. Who could blame him, but really, it was paid for and all ours. In all honesty, I paid 15 dollars for it during their whole going out of business sale a few years back. The new one he picked out is so huge it barely fit in the entertainment center. It came with a remote, so no more getting up to change the channels. I wonder if that's really a good thing.
So now, I just have my car to sell and we can get out of major debt.
I throw the mail on the dining room table and kick off my shoes as I walk to put my lunch bag away in the kitchen. It's a mess as usual. But, it's bill time. I have to get that under control. I grab a soda from the fridge and sit myself down at the table. Wouldn't it be nice if Jon Paul was next to me, if we shared this monthly experience? Each taking turns writing out the checks and sticking the postage on the envelopes. Walking hand in hand to the mail box to mail away our monthly salary.
I know I am dreaming. It would be asking to much for him to sit down with me to help with this. I would be satisfied if he would stop using the ATM machine on a daily basis. It amazes me how little he claims to know about American finances but yet he has mastered the ATM machine better then any other American I know. Now, if he could only realize that the 'available balance' that is on the receipt is not how much that is truly in our account!
I pull out all the mail and add it to today's pile. Bill by bill I open up all the envelopes as I start to pile them up. Visa, Nordstrom's, Mastercard, American Express, Macy's... Macy's? When did that one come? Chevron, Chevron?? My eye's are trying to register and it hits me! My head hits the table cushioned by the stack of credit card bills on the table. It doesn't hurt at all. He is again applying for more credit! I sit for a moment, fighting back the tears, then holding back my anger and tell my self 'just breathe! Sammy, Just breathe. In and out. In and out.' The overwhelming feeling of debt is incredibly difficult to handle. My chest is tight and my breathing laboring, my stomach is turning over and I feel as if I am going to throw up. 'Breathe Sammy... Breath!!' is all my brain can relay. I am waving my right hand in front of me as if to fan away the tears that are flowing freely from my eyes. I am gasping for what little air I can get inside of my lungs and wonder if this is what my sister's asthma attacks feel like?
My body starts to rock itself back and forth, it is a motion I find myself doing often lately. It is the same motion my mother would do for me when I was hurt or upset. She would lovingly pull me up into her wooden rocking chair and we would rock back and forth all the while she would be caressing my long hair and whispering 'sshhhh, it's ok sweetie, your ok'. I would lay in her arms, press my ear onto her chest and listen to her voice vibrate through her chest. The thought is comforting and I feel myself calming down as my body rocking is slowing.
After several minutes, my head still down, eyes closed, my mind whirling, an overwhelming determination flows over me. I want to be debt free! I'm the one that pays the bills and every month I have to juggle which bills to pay and which to hold over. I'm tired of it. I hear my father telling me "Don't owe anyone money. Always pay your bills." I raise my head and count the credit card bills. 13 credit cards. I look in my wallet and count the ones I have, 5. I look over the balances of the bills and realize, just when he max's one out, he appears to be applying for another.
At this rate I will be in debt for the rest of my life! Does he not understand how this country works. We are free here to do what we want, but we must pay back all our debt. They don't hand you money for free! Then it hits me! I take a piece of paper and write all the credit cards and balances on them. I list them in order from the highest balance to the lowest. At the top of the paper I put the 1,700 figure from the sale of the celica. I add of all the minimum payments, subtract it from the 1700 and with the amount we have left, I pick a card with a balance I can pay off. I pick up the phone and call JP at work. "JP?"
"Ya, what's up?"
I play dumb, "Do you have a Capwell card?"
"Ya, why?" He asks as if he was just busted. I wonder 'who does he think it is that writes these monthly checks?'.
"Well they just called and told us we were above our limit and they are going to close the account. We have to stop using it." I continue. "They want us to send it back to them."
"OK"
"So will you bring it home with you so I can send it in with the payment like they're asking us to do?" I lied further.
"Sure." He hung up before I could ask him when he was coming home.
I put a star near the Capwell card on my list. It's 1 of 13! As I pay the rest of the bills I realize I am able to pay another credit card off and make a note to call him in 1-2 weeks and let him know that card was also cancelled. I of course have no idea why. In a way, I feel a ting of guilt for lying. I look at the stack of bills to mail off and It fades me quickly. I have plans. I want to go to Belgium and I want a child. I want to be debt free!
I map out our average monthly salary with what we currently owe. If I can get him to stop taking money out of the ATM machine and stop charging on the cards. We may just be debt free by January. Here I am a mere 20 years old totally in debt and I can't help but smile, he believed me!
Thank you Mom and Dad for those acting lessons you sent me to. Little did you know what good use I would put them to.
Night
Dinner is ready and I can hear JP walking in the door. I get his meal served up by the time he walks in the door. He walks in kisses me as he passes and sits to eat. "What did you do all day the house is a mess?"
"I was paying bills. I'll get to the house." I pause for effect. "Oh that reminds me honey, do you have the Capwell card?"
He grunts, fishes it out of his wallet and flops it down on the table. "I don't even use that thing"
"Well, there a little upset we're over our limit. They wanted it back." I fish through my purse, find the envelope with the bill in it and make a point of exaggerating my putting it in the envelope. Sealing it up and putting it back in my purse. "I'll mail it tomorrow." Tomorrow when I get to work, I will unseal the envelope and cut up the card.
JP doesn't talk anymore about the bills. He doesn't tell me there will be more credit card statements on the way. He sits in front of me as we eat our dinner. For once we aren't fighting. He is in a good mood. I vow in silence we will be debt free even if I have to lie to him about it.
Tuesday, November 17th, 1987
"Whats for dinner?" JP asks as he walks into the kitchen.
"Hmm, your favorite!" I exclaim.
He stops and looks at the pan. I am pulling the fries out of the oven and putting his steak on his plate. "There's only 1?" He asks as he sees I have only made one steak.
"Yep, just for you!" I tell him as I hand him the plate. I take the lid off the pot on the back burner and stir the noddles that are in the boiling water. "I'm making myself something different." I have taken to making him what he wants to eat as much as possible. Since steaks are expensive, I settle for Kraft Mac-n-Cheese, knowing he will be able to have another steak sooner.
JP grabs a fork and steak knife and sits down at the table. Without a second thought he starts cutting his steak and eating his fries. I look at him for a brief moment. Realizing I am starring at him and quickly turn and focus on my dinner that is near ready. 'He didn't even ask if I wanted him to wait for my dinner'. By the time I get the butter and milk mixed into the noodles and cheese he is done. He gets up and puts his plate in the sink and walks over to the TV, where I know he will be the remainder of the night. I missed my chance to have dinner with my husband.
I sit at the table with my bowl of mac-n-cheese. I can't help but think about how much I really hate mac-n-cheese and how rude it was to just eat your dinner and not even consider waiting for me. I guess I can't blame JP, he probably didn't realize it. I look at him in the living room, watching TV as I sit and eat my dinner. I love him. I truly love him. I would do anything for this mystery man, if he would just tell me what it is he wants.
I finish my dinner and head over to Anna's house, with the hopes she has made some awesome cookies, like she always does. I know I'm leaving JP at home, but from experience he will either sit on the couch or head over to Ron's house to get stoned. I'm going to bet he probably doesn't even notice I am gone. Besides, I am looking forward to the one on one female conversation.
Saturday, November 21st, 1987 Evening
This is my first full day of coat check. I am sitting in a closet, in charge of watching 18 furry coats at the La Rinconada Country Club. It really is a tough job, but someone has to do it! Not to mention, I get paid to do this! I'm sitting here all my myself and find it is peaceful, relaxing and very comforting. I count my tips as the night goes on, each dollar is one dollar closer to being debt free!
There is a light in here just above me, that flickers terribly. I'm guessing it wants to go out. I try to tell it that I need it to keep working. Willing it to stay on! It just flickers on a continuous basis, giving me a headache, but nothing I can't handle.
I was able to pay off 2 of JP's tickets. They only cost 152.00, much better then the 500.00 I thought it would be. I can't begin to tell you how much I love my life at this moment, everything is right in place. I keep waiting for something to happen. I guess that’s life though. I'm in love with Jon Paul. I don’t want to loose him. He says he’ll never leave me, but some day's I feel he will. That's me, a worry wart all the way, and a little nit picky. I'm working on the last.
We talked about having a baby. JP actually was open to it. I thought since he already had a child in Belgium that he wouldn't want another one. But he told me we could probably start trying next summer. It's exciting known that I have something to look forward to, a goal to get all our bills paid off by then for sure.
I am excited. Tomorrow my sister comes to town. JP likes her a lot so we are planning to meet up with her in Union City!
Monday, November 23rd, 1987
Night
We got into a car accident on our way to our friends house. Our brand new Isuzu Impulse is totalled! Wrecked beyond belief and I haven't even gotten the payment coupon book yet.
I was sitting at a stop light and a car behind us slammed right into the back of me. JP was in the passenger seat, thank goodness he is OK. Our car was slammed into the car in front of it and that car slammed into the car in front of it. So we have front and rear damage. JP says we will be lucky if they don't total the car. Thank goodness I insisted on going and getting insurance the day we bought it.
JP was awesome, he took care of everything and made sure I was OK and helped everyone else with their vehicles. I have a headache and my neck hurts really bad, but I'm not complaining, it's not that bad. I am just so tired now I just want to go home and go to sleep.
Saturday, November 28th, 1987
JP called Zacharie today to wish him happy birthday. Apparently he was polite and everything. He was having his birthday party with 11 of his friends. JP doesn't talk much about his son, and I have stopped asking since it usually ends up in a fight. I just wish Zboy would come and visit us sometime. That would be awesome to actually get to meet his son and I just know JP would be so happy with that.
We could be a complete family then. No more fighting, just lots of loving! I can't wait to have a baby and start our family. I would never leave JP like his ex-wife left him. NEVER!
Sometimes I wish I could give this journal to JP and let him read this maybe then he would know how much I love him and that I'm always going to be here for him.
Saturday, December 5th, 1987
I had a busy week and it doesn't seem to be getting any better anytime soon. Yesterday, after work, I went and put a deposit down on a guitar I bought for JP for Christmas. I think he will really like it, or i hope he will. He better, it was $300.00. It was the first time I ever put something on law away. I got home with enough time to change and leave for coat checking. I found a joint in JP's jacket. We fought again about his pot smoking. You don't have to do drugs to have a good time. But he just doesn't seem to understand that. I left for work and when I came home he was already asleep.
Tonight I am working coat checking again at the country club. I am hoping to make a lot of money. Right now, I have 80 coats that I am in charge of watching. If each person just gives me 1 dollar that would be 80.00! I would then only owe 220! That's asking for a little much. Not everyone tips me when they pick up their coats. The money I made yesterday I used for grocery shopping today before I came in to work. Tomorrow I have to drive to Visalia and be back in enough time to get some sleep and work on Monday.
What I wouldn't give to just have one day to sit and do nothing. But that never happens, I just need to stop dreaming about it.
Monday, December 7th, 1987
Work is hard when you are tired. I was able to pull off answering all the phones and being nice without anyone knowing I was exhausted. I got back from Visalia around 11:30 pm, threw myself into bed only to wake up 6 hours later to start my day. It's nice though having my hair cut and visiting with my family and friends. While the drive is long both ways for one day, the sound of the stereo tuned to my music and space in the car to myself is priceless.
Today is bill paying day. I am determined to pay off at least one more bill. JP doesn't even know what's hitting him. I wonder what he thinks is really going on with our bills and credit? I don't care anymore. He left it to me to handle so I am handling it. I have them all piled up on the table and start off with listing them out. This month my goal is to cancel the Nordstrom card, it is again a card that only he has. With it being December I don't feel comfortable paying off to much. We do need money for presents.
I write all the checks, placing them in there envelopes, addressed and stamped and waiting. JP isn't home yet so I call his work. My eyes closed, listening to the phone ring, I shake my whole body as if preparing myself for my acting gig.
"Hello" His boss answer's. It's my cue.
I quiver my voice slightly as if I am upset "Hello, is John Paul there?"
"Ya, hang on." I hear him put down the phone and call for JP in the background to come to the phone."
"Oui?"
{action} "JP I just got a call from Nordstrom's!"
"Ya? What they want?"
"They say we have to turn in our cards!" I sniff as if I had been crying. Gulping a little over the phone.
"Ya? I thought that would happen. They froze it few months ago when I tried to use it I thought if I didn't use it it would be good for awhile." He paused.
I help my breath. He tried using it a few months ago? Who does he think pays the bill even if your not using it? I look at the table with the envelope sitting on it that holds the payoff payment in it. "They want their cards back." Sniff.
"Fuck em, they can have em!"
I was smiling full force. Shook my head, returned to character to finish the call. "I just don't like this" I sniff and pretend as if I am crying.
"Fuck em. I bring the card back and we forget about em." He says. "I gotta go back to work." He hangs up.
I place the phone back on the cradle. Facing the phone and flalling my arms out in front of me take the largest bow in honor of my performance. The audience would have given me a standing ovation.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Chapter 5 - The Killing Of Samantha
Saturday, November 7th, 1987
I have the house to myself when I get back from grocery shopping. I'm never left a note, as to where they might be or be coming home. But I don't have to worry about dinner. I am sure Sabine will wait on JP as always. I sit at the dining room table staring at the bank building when JP walks in the door. He is alone. I try to assess his mood as he throws his keys on the counter. "What's for dinner?" He asks.
"I don't know. Sabine isn't here -" He interupts me.
"They're gone." He quips at me.
I am thrown through a loop. "What do you mean 'they're gone?'" I ask.
"You don't understand English now?" His accent is horribly strong with all the french he has been speaking lately. "They gone. Left! Didn't like you! Like no body like's you!"
My brain is whirling a mile a minute now. I look down the hall and notice their suitcases aren't in the guest room. "Don't be so mean!" I say in a snotty voice. "No one told me they were leaving" I feel like I'm in a daze, trying to gain my stance. An hour ago I was the invisible woman living in this house. What do I do now?
"Make my dinner, bitch!" He orders like he is a king.
"Stop talking to me like that!" I say in a demanding voice. Calming down, "It hurts me when you call me bad words." I'm hoping in a moment of love he will realize what he is doing and stop. I am wrong.
He get's up to my face and starring at me, wave's me off saying "Why do you think I call you those names, bitch?" He walks to the living room sits on the couch and orders me. "Bitch, make my dinner, bitch!"
I grab my purse and fish inside for my keys, I am done. "No! Make it yourself. I'm outta here!" I call out as I head to the door. I am determined, I am leaving.
I am met by Jon Paul, 3 feet from the door. His body slams me against the coat closet doors, his face 1 inch from mine, his eyes now black. "Who the fuck you are?" He yells at me. His breath smells of stahl nictoine as his hands are pushing my shoulders into the wooden doors. "Who the fuck you are?" He screams again.
I am to scared to speak. Words cease to come to my mind. I stand motionless as he is hovering over me.
"That's what I thought!" He yells into my face. "You're nothing! You're lucky I put up with your shit." He pushes me to the ground. Still standing over me, yelling in his Waloon accent. "Look at you! You think a man wants to marry someone like this? You pathetic, sorry bitch. Your fucking lucky I'm taking care of you. Your own family doesn't like you!"
He reaches down and grabs for the keys I am holding in my hand. I hold on tight to them. Curled up in a ball on the floor he pushes my right shoulder down as he grabs for the keys in my left hand and he yanks. I let out a yelp. He bends down close to my ear. Still holding my shoulder "your not fucking leaving me bitch!" he says. "You keep this shit up and I will kill you!" He throws my keys across the room. I try to listen to where they land, as he turns to walk away he kicks my foot.
I am left in the hallway. Close to freedom but with no place to go or way of living. I am far from any friend or parent. Jon Paul goes to the couch sit's down and looks at me "Get out of my site bitch." I pull myself up and walk into the guest room.
I sit on the edge of the bed starring at the wall. I rock myself back and forth trying to breath. The tears are flowing, I can't stop them. I can't stop from shaking either. What have I done? I think about calling the police, but why would they help me. I took him back the first time he did this. Would the same officers show up? or would they be different ones? Would they know about me? Would they even believe me about what just happened? I race through my brain looking for idea's of what to do and nothing comes. I have done this to myself. This is my doing!
I slide off the end of the bed to the floor. I am silent crying, again using my shirt as my tissue. For the first time, I have no idea's.
Monday, November 9th 1987
In the midst of saving my marriage I finally found out what he wants. A dummy girl! Not to dumb. One that keeps the house super clean. Cooks his dinner and serve's him. One not to speek until spoken too. Unless, to make him more comfortable, or to sit next to him and be there for him (but not touch him).
He doesn’t want to be bothered by unimportant stuff. I am not to speak in public, nor in private. I am not to say anything what so ever that might anger him. He is a volcano about to erupt. I am to be ready to leave at the blink of an eye for any endeavor of his choosing. With no question's ever asked.
Yesterday we went to Oakland to see Jude. I was a good girl. I didn't speak. I followed the rules. I was nice to Jude and JP thought I was angry with him. 'Not angry honey, just scared for my life' I thought. Sometimes its hard to sit there and have him make fun of me when I can't fight back. What is supposed to happen to me now? I am used to taking care of myself, now I can't make a move without his approval.
I have to go pee. I wonder when he will let me do that?
Wednesday, November 11th, 1987
I don’t think people understand what it really takes to be married to a Belgium man. A lot of patients, that's for sure.
I was thinking the other day about publishing these books but how could I publish my married life?
Friday, November 13th, 1987
I have been trying awfully hard to do what JP boy wants. Sometimes I forget and I open my mouth. It is important for me for my marriage to work. I’d like to have a family someday.
Sunday November 15th, 1987
We had sex. It seems to be the only time I can have anyone hug me. I miss the hugs my mother would give me for no reason other then she was passing me in the hall. JP got up and went to Rons house to smoke pot. Why does it disturb me when he does that? You don't have to do drugs to have fun in life! I have tried to tell him, but I am the powerless one. He is the one that wears the pants in this family.
If he would only put them on.
I raised my voice this evening. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw his hand twitch, as if he wanted to hit me. I feel like a target. Him being the loaded gun. Me the paper person dangling in front of him. The gun goes off and I die. That scares me. You know, one minute everything is fine, the next word I say - I'm dead. But let’s face the facts, I’m a crazy woman whom loves her husband. Consider it a task if I die from natural causes. I win. If not I lose.
Good morals win a game Sammy!
I have the house to myself when I get back from grocery shopping. I'm never left a note, as to where they might be or be coming home. But I don't have to worry about dinner. I am sure Sabine will wait on JP as always. I sit at the dining room table staring at the bank building when JP walks in the door. He is alone. I try to assess his mood as he throws his keys on the counter. "What's for dinner?" He asks.
"I don't know. Sabine isn't here -" He interupts me.
"They're gone." He quips at me.
I am thrown through a loop. "What do you mean 'they're gone?'" I ask.
"You don't understand English now?" His accent is horribly strong with all the french he has been speaking lately. "They gone. Left! Didn't like you! Like no body like's you!"
My brain is whirling a mile a minute now. I look down the hall and notice their suitcases aren't in the guest room. "Don't be so mean!" I say in a snotty voice. "No one told me they were leaving" I feel like I'm in a daze, trying to gain my stance. An hour ago I was the invisible woman living in this house. What do I do now?
"Make my dinner, bitch!" He orders like he is a king.
"Stop talking to me like that!" I say in a demanding voice. Calming down, "It hurts me when you call me bad words." I'm hoping in a moment of love he will realize what he is doing and stop. I am wrong.
He get's up to my face and starring at me, wave's me off saying "Why do you think I call you those names, bitch?" He walks to the living room sits on the couch and orders me. "Bitch, make my dinner, bitch!"
I grab my purse and fish inside for my keys, I am done. "No! Make it yourself. I'm outta here!" I call out as I head to the door. I am determined, I am leaving.
I am met by Jon Paul, 3 feet from the door. His body slams me against the coat closet doors, his face 1 inch from mine, his eyes now black. "Who the fuck you are?" He yells at me. His breath smells of stahl nictoine as his hands are pushing my shoulders into the wooden doors. "Who the fuck you are?" He screams again.
I am to scared to speak. Words cease to come to my mind. I stand motionless as he is hovering over me.
"That's what I thought!" He yells into my face. "You're nothing! You're lucky I put up with your shit." He pushes me to the ground. Still standing over me, yelling in his Waloon accent. "Look at you! You think a man wants to marry someone like this? You pathetic, sorry bitch. Your fucking lucky I'm taking care of you. Your own family doesn't like you!"
He reaches down and grabs for the keys I am holding in my hand. I hold on tight to them. Curled up in a ball on the floor he pushes my right shoulder down as he grabs for the keys in my left hand and he yanks. I let out a yelp. He bends down close to my ear. Still holding my shoulder "your not fucking leaving me bitch!" he says. "You keep this shit up and I will kill you!" He throws my keys across the room. I try to listen to where they land, as he turns to walk away he kicks my foot.
I am left in the hallway. Close to freedom but with no place to go or way of living. I am far from any friend or parent. Jon Paul goes to the couch sit's down and looks at me "Get out of my site bitch." I pull myself up and walk into the guest room.
I sit on the edge of the bed starring at the wall. I rock myself back and forth trying to breath. The tears are flowing, I can't stop them. I can't stop from shaking either. What have I done? I think about calling the police, but why would they help me. I took him back the first time he did this. Would the same officers show up? or would they be different ones? Would they know about me? Would they even believe me about what just happened? I race through my brain looking for idea's of what to do and nothing comes. I have done this to myself. This is my doing!
I slide off the end of the bed to the floor. I am silent crying, again using my shirt as my tissue. For the first time, I have no idea's.
Monday, November 9th 1987
In the midst of saving my marriage I finally found out what he wants. A dummy girl! Not to dumb. One that keeps the house super clean. Cooks his dinner and serve's him. One not to speek until spoken too. Unless, to make him more comfortable, or to sit next to him and be there for him (but not touch him).
He doesn’t want to be bothered by unimportant stuff. I am not to speak in public, nor in private. I am not to say anything what so ever that might anger him. He is a volcano about to erupt. I am to be ready to leave at the blink of an eye for any endeavor of his choosing. With no question's ever asked.
Yesterday we went to Oakland to see Jude. I was a good girl. I didn't speak. I followed the rules. I was nice to Jude and JP thought I was angry with him. 'Not angry honey, just scared for my life' I thought. Sometimes its hard to sit there and have him make fun of me when I can't fight back. What is supposed to happen to me now? I am used to taking care of myself, now I can't make a move without his approval.
I have to go pee. I wonder when he will let me do that?
Wednesday, November 11th, 1987
I don’t think people understand what it really takes to be married to a Belgium man. A lot of patients, that's for sure.
I was thinking the other day about publishing these books but how could I publish my married life?
Friday, November 13th, 1987
I have been trying awfully hard to do what JP boy wants. Sometimes I forget and I open my mouth. It is important for me for my marriage to work. I’d like to have a family someday.
Sunday November 15th, 1987
We had sex. It seems to be the only time I can have anyone hug me. I miss the hugs my mother would give me for no reason other then she was passing me in the hall. JP got up and went to Rons house to smoke pot. Why does it disturb me when he does that? You don't have to do drugs to have fun in life! I have tried to tell him, but I am the powerless one. He is the one that wears the pants in this family.
If he would only put them on.
I raised my voice this evening. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw his hand twitch, as if he wanted to hit me. I feel like a target. Him being the loaded gun. Me the paper person dangling in front of him. The gun goes off and I die. That scares me. You know, one minute everything is fine, the next word I say - I'm dead. But let’s face the facts, I’m a crazy woman whom loves her husband. Consider it a task if I die from natural causes. I win. If not I lose.
Good morals win a game Sammy!
Chapter 4 - Four Is A Crowd In Any Language!
Monday, November 2ND, 1987
JP has been nicer lately. He went out for a bike ride with Christophe yesterday. He has fun when he does that. We recently came into money. $4,200.00 for damages to my car, that were caused from the construction work on the road just outside our apartment. JP did the repairs on my car himself so we saved a lot of that money. I’d like to pay my car off and put the rest in a savings account. That would take a lot off my shoulder's. If we have no car payment we'd have 146.12 a month less to pay, maybe we could start to save for a new car.
JP has moved Christophe and Sabine in. They are living in our spare room. They speak French and very little English. In fact, the only time they speak English is when they are asking me for something. JP met them through a friend, they are trying to start a crepe restaurant here in the United States. So far they have ran into trouble with immigration. They came over on travel visa's and are having trouble getting work visa's. They can't open a restaurant without the proper visa's and our government wants to send them back to France. In a way it doesn't make sense, they have the money, they want no hand-outs from our government, but they are being sent back home. I don't understand.
JP said they could stay with us, without asking me. I came home from work last week and they were already moved in. My items from the main bathroom were dumped on the counter in our master bathroom. My kitchen was reorganized and when I walked in the door Christophe was cooking dinner for everyone. For once JP was home!!
Part of me was elated! I would have more time with JP at home! But, so far, the time he is at home it utterly lonely. They speak only in french and only translate when I ask what they are talking about. Sabine and Christophe try to tell me in English, but JP just tells me I won't understand it, or it can't be translated into English. "There is no way of saying it in English!" I sit like a 'good' wife on the couch next to JP, wishing he would reach out and hold me like Christophe does to Sabine. He never does. I asked him to move his arm and nestled myself down into the crook of his shoulder, it felt good, like I was protected and being loved. It lasted 5 minutes, he told me to move, his arm was falling asleep.
We sit down to eat dinner. Crepe's! They looked delicious and for once I was relieved I didn't have to worry about what to cook. This had to be a win-win situation. Or so I would think. We're all sitting at the dining room table. The food displayed out in the pots they were cook on (my mother would have put them on serving dishes) everyone starts to serve themselves. I reached over putting food on my plate, I was starving. JP is starring at me, I stop "What?" I ask immediately thinking I forgot something.
"You eat to much. That's why your so fat." He says.
Embarrassment wafts over my cheekbones. "I'm hungry, what am I supposed to do?" My 5'2 1/4 133 pound frame did have to much weight on it. I know JP is unhappy with my weight, he tells me whenever he can. But, here? in front of the guests or new roommates?
"You should eat like Sabine. You'd look good with her body!" He said as he pointed toward her plate.
Sabine was tall, very thin and her curly black hair fell perfectly on her very thin shoulders. I looked at her plate that was filled with vegetable's and wondered how she could live without trying her husband's cooking. Without taking a bite of what was on my plate, I stood up from the table, picked up the plate and walked over to the sink. I carefully brushed off the food and quietly put the dish in the sink. I turned toward the table, without looking at them said, "enjoy your dinner!" and walked to the bedroom. It wasn't the first time I would skip dinner and it wouldn't be the last. I start to silent cry - tears rolling down my face as I stand in front of the mirror. My large football shoulders, stomach that poofs out now matter how many sit-ups I do and my thighs rub together no matter how much I loose. He is right, I am fat and ugly! My hunger is gone, I am now sick to my stomach. I lay on the bed, Chrissy curls her body in a ball by my shoulders and starts to purr. I lay petting her and crying into her fur.
Tuesday, November 3rd, 1987
5:30 AM Wake up, Shower/Get Ready
7:15 AM Leave for work
8:00 AM Work
5:00 PM Go home
5:30 PM Get home, pick up the house, cook dinner, clean up
8:00 PM Rest for an hour
9:00 PM Go to bed
I should just give up! I wish I was Sabine. She is beautiful, tan, skinny and she makes me wish I was her. I'm not the jealous type, but with her I get furious! It feels like she is coming between JP and I. This whole thing is just so stupid. I come home I’m lucky if he asks me how my day is. They speak French to each other only and I am left out. They talk constantly to each other, but JP won't even talk to me! I spend all my spare time trying to learn French. When I try to practice what I have learned JP just laughs at me. Says I butcher his language, or asks me to repeat it over and over and laughs with his friends saying he doesn't know what language I am speaking. But its not french!
He doesn't understand how difficult the language is for me! I was born Tongue Tied. Speaking English was a challenge in itself for me. My brain is saying the words correctly but by the time the words get to my mouth they don't come out the same way. My parent's spent years taking me to speech therapy, each session was practicing 'R' and the 'ing' words. In fact, every time I said Bird to the therapist it would come out as bored. But when I said Bored, it came out bird. So at the age of 7 I made my first mental note to switch those 2 words. From that point on whenever I said Bored - I was really saying bird. I just had to remember to spell them correctly when they were on a spelling test.
Now, as I sit here in front of the French language books and realize I am doomed. The whole language is full of the letter 'R'! I have no support and again people are laughing at me for the way I pronounce words!
I’m sick of always doing things on my own. I need help! I need a husband, the husband I thought I was marrying. He works all week and says he works on Saturday. He is off on Sunday and leaves me saying he deserves time to play. Why doesn't he want to play with me? It was all I could do to get him to go shopping for his son's birthday present. "I can't I’m busy" was his first excuse, his second "I going to get my hair appointment." I signed his name to the card and sent it off. I'm getting good at signing his name!
I need to keep myself busy. I could go drive to Jennifer's for lunch or dinner. Or call Aunt Hazel or Mom and if they aren't busy have lunch with them. Start shopping for Christmas. Go to San Francisco for the day looking for bargains in the clothing district. Maybe find something nice at the Gunne Sak outlet. Maybe go to Mervyn's or Macy's and then a movie. My gosh the guy is to busy for me, that’s okay, I just have to keep myself busy also. I could get a book and go to a park and read it, or shop for a stationary bike that fits me and I could get exercise. Visit my grandfather in Castro Valley. I need to fill up my weekends. I should call the Country Club soon and see if they have extra work. The money would do us well and be a productive thing to do.
My God this life has a lot of places to go in it. Some day's I'll find something to do and some day's I will be bored (bird). I’m not married. I just happen to have roommates, one of which I am having sexual relations with him at times. They speak French, they don't understand English very well. Our communication is horrid when it comes to talking to me. This is it! I'm tired of trying to move in this life thinking about everyone else's feelings but my own. Samantha, your on your own! Plan your weekends for fun!
Sometimes I feel our marriage would be perfect if we would not live with anyone else.
Thursday, November 5th, 1987
JP did it again. He got another ticket. This time for driving the wrong way on a one way street! They also said his license was suspended in July and they never notified us. There goes the money I was trying to save. The thought of a family or a house. I just can't seem to catch a break!
I want the 'friends' of ours to leave. They are driving me nuts. JP sits on the couch and has Sabine wait on him hand and foot. She does all the cooking and cleaning for him. She brings him his dinner right to where he is. He raves about her constantly. I can't compete! It feels like I'm not even here most of the time. I don’t talk much anymore, no one listens when I do. So I just give up. I didn't dream of having this life when I was little. I wanted a family. The dream every girl has.
What I want:
I want my husband - That wants to be with me!
2 new cars - Paid for.
A home
A child or two - One Girl!
A comfortable life - Out of debt!
To visit Belgium.
How do I get this?
JP has been nicer lately. He went out for a bike ride with Christophe yesterday. He has fun when he does that. We recently came into money. $4,200.00 for damages to my car, that were caused from the construction work on the road just outside our apartment. JP did the repairs on my car himself so we saved a lot of that money. I’d like to pay my car off and put the rest in a savings account. That would take a lot off my shoulder's. If we have no car payment we'd have 146.12 a month less to pay, maybe we could start to save for a new car.
JP has moved Christophe and Sabine in. They are living in our spare room. They speak French and very little English. In fact, the only time they speak English is when they are asking me for something. JP met them through a friend, they are trying to start a crepe restaurant here in the United States. So far they have ran into trouble with immigration. They came over on travel visa's and are having trouble getting work visa's. They can't open a restaurant without the proper visa's and our government wants to send them back to France. In a way it doesn't make sense, they have the money, they want no hand-outs from our government, but they are being sent back home. I don't understand.
JP said they could stay with us, without asking me. I came home from work last week and they were already moved in. My items from the main bathroom were dumped on the counter in our master bathroom. My kitchen was reorganized and when I walked in the door Christophe was cooking dinner for everyone. For once JP was home!!
Part of me was elated! I would have more time with JP at home! But, so far, the time he is at home it utterly lonely. They speak only in french and only translate when I ask what they are talking about. Sabine and Christophe try to tell me in English, but JP just tells me I won't understand it, or it can't be translated into English. "There is no way of saying it in English!" I sit like a 'good' wife on the couch next to JP, wishing he would reach out and hold me like Christophe does to Sabine. He never does. I asked him to move his arm and nestled myself down into the crook of his shoulder, it felt good, like I was protected and being loved. It lasted 5 minutes, he told me to move, his arm was falling asleep.
We sit down to eat dinner. Crepe's! They looked delicious and for once I was relieved I didn't have to worry about what to cook. This had to be a win-win situation. Or so I would think. We're all sitting at the dining room table. The food displayed out in the pots they were cook on (my mother would have put them on serving dishes) everyone starts to serve themselves. I reached over putting food on my plate, I was starving. JP is starring at me, I stop "What?" I ask immediately thinking I forgot something.
"You eat to much. That's why your so fat." He says.
Embarrassment wafts over my cheekbones. "I'm hungry, what am I supposed to do?" My 5'2 1/4 133 pound frame did have to much weight on it. I know JP is unhappy with my weight, he tells me whenever he can. But, here? in front of the guests or new roommates?
"You should eat like Sabine. You'd look good with her body!" He said as he pointed toward her plate.
Sabine was tall, very thin and her curly black hair fell perfectly on her very thin shoulders. I looked at her plate that was filled with vegetable's and wondered how she could live without trying her husband's cooking. Without taking a bite of what was on my plate, I stood up from the table, picked up the plate and walked over to the sink. I carefully brushed off the food and quietly put the dish in the sink. I turned toward the table, without looking at them said, "enjoy your dinner!" and walked to the bedroom. It wasn't the first time I would skip dinner and it wouldn't be the last. I start to silent cry - tears rolling down my face as I stand in front of the mirror. My large football shoulders, stomach that poofs out now matter how many sit-ups I do and my thighs rub together no matter how much I loose. He is right, I am fat and ugly! My hunger is gone, I am now sick to my stomach. I lay on the bed, Chrissy curls her body in a ball by my shoulders and starts to purr. I lay petting her and crying into her fur.
Tuesday, November 3rd, 1987
5:30 AM Wake up, Shower/Get Ready
7:15 AM Leave for work
8:00 AM Work
5:00 PM Go home
5:30 PM Get home, pick up the house, cook dinner, clean up
8:00 PM Rest for an hour
9:00 PM Go to bed
I should just give up! I wish I was Sabine. She is beautiful, tan, skinny and she makes me wish I was her. I'm not the jealous type, but with her I get furious! It feels like she is coming between JP and I. This whole thing is just so stupid. I come home I’m lucky if he asks me how my day is. They speak French to each other only and I am left out. They talk constantly to each other, but JP won't even talk to me! I spend all my spare time trying to learn French. When I try to practice what I have learned JP just laughs at me. Says I butcher his language, or asks me to repeat it over and over and laughs with his friends saying he doesn't know what language I am speaking. But its not french!
He doesn't understand how difficult the language is for me! I was born Tongue Tied. Speaking English was a challenge in itself for me. My brain is saying the words correctly but by the time the words get to my mouth they don't come out the same way. My parent's spent years taking me to speech therapy, each session was practicing 'R' and the 'ing' words. In fact, every time I said Bird to the therapist it would come out as bored. But when I said Bored, it came out bird. So at the age of 7 I made my first mental note to switch those 2 words. From that point on whenever I said Bored - I was really saying bird. I just had to remember to spell them correctly when they were on a spelling test.
Now, as I sit here in front of the French language books and realize I am doomed. The whole language is full of the letter 'R'! I have no support and again people are laughing at me for the way I pronounce words!
I’m sick of always doing things on my own. I need help! I need a husband, the husband I thought I was marrying. He works all week and says he works on Saturday. He is off on Sunday and leaves me saying he deserves time to play. Why doesn't he want to play with me? It was all I could do to get him to go shopping for his son's birthday present. "I can't I’m busy" was his first excuse, his second "I going to get my hair appointment." I signed his name to the card and sent it off. I'm getting good at signing his name!
I need to keep myself busy. I could go drive to Jennifer's for lunch or dinner. Or call Aunt Hazel or Mom and if they aren't busy have lunch with them. Start shopping for Christmas. Go to San Francisco for the day looking for bargains in the clothing district. Maybe find something nice at the Gunne Sak outlet. Maybe go to Mervyn's or Macy's and then a movie. My gosh the guy is to busy for me, that’s okay, I just have to keep myself busy also. I could get a book and go to a park and read it, or shop for a stationary bike that fits me and I could get exercise. Visit my grandfather in Castro Valley. I need to fill up my weekends. I should call the Country Club soon and see if they have extra work. The money would do us well and be a productive thing to do.
My God this life has a lot of places to go in it. Some day's I'll find something to do and some day's I will be bored (bird). I’m not married. I just happen to have roommates, one of which I am having sexual relations with him at times. They speak French, they don't understand English very well. Our communication is horrid when it comes to talking to me. This is it! I'm tired of trying to move in this life thinking about everyone else's feelings but my own. Samantha, your on your own! Plan your weekends for fun!
Sometimes I feel our marriage would be perfect if we would not live with anyone else.
Thursday, November 5th, 1987
JP did it again. He got another ticket. This time for driving the wrong way on a one way street! They also said his license was suspended in July and they never notified us. There goes the money I was trying to save. The thought of a family or a house. I just can't seem to catch a break!
I want the 'friends' of ours to leave. They are driving me nuts. JP sits on the couch and has Sabine wait on him hand and foot. She does all the cooking and cleaning for him. She brings him his dinner right to where he is. He raves about her constantly. I can't compete! It feels like I'm not even here most of the time. I don’t talk much anymore, no one listens when I do. So I just give up. I didn't dream of having this life when I was little. I wanted a family. The dream every girl has.
What I want:
I want my husband - That wants to be with me!
2 new cars - Paid for.
A home
A child or two - One Girl!
A comfortable life - Out of debt!
To visit Belgium.
How do I get this?
Chapter 3 - Fighting Back!
Monday, October 5th, 1987
Jon Paul thinks I’m unhappy over money and he's all wrong. Money just makes life harder. I just want to know how he really feels about me. God knows for all I know he could have come here, married me and divorced me when he’s a citizen. Then bring his first wife and kid over here. Except for the fact she just got married. Maybe she got tired of waiting.. See my immagination is just grand!
The woman next door just told me she is pregnant again. Third child! She looked so happy. I bet she's not lonely. She doesn't eat dinner alone at night. She doesn't sit around waiting for her husband to come home just so she could talk to someone other then her cat Chrissy. I don't think she even has a cat.
Sometimes I wonder if having a child would bring us closer together? I wouldn't be so lonely all the time, thats for sure. I could love someone, be loved!
Sunday, October 25Th, 1987
The time has changed. It looks awfully weird, like the darkness is hovering over the apartment. I keep hoping it will mask my loneliness! But, lonliness is all I seem to be feeling lately. I am determined that today is different. JP left with Jude today. Saying he will be back later I decided to spend the day cleaning the apartment perfectly! There is no dust or garbage anywhere! Dinner is in the oven staying warm and I am sure he will love it!
He looks so happy when he walks in the door. My hopes grow high that tonight will be a good night. He throws his keys on the counter and sits at the table opening yesterdays mail. "There's something there I don't understand, from a bank." I tell him.
"Ya, I helped Jude get a loan."
I stop in my tracks. I already have trouble paying the rent and the many credit cards that he has opened. I don't trust Jude to make a payment on anything, let a lone one we have signed for. "You cosigned for a loan for him?" I try hard to keep my tone in line and mask the suprise and anger over my face.
"Ya, he asked me too."
"You didn't ask me-" I stopped in mid sentance. I know better. JP pushes his chair back as he stands up.
"I don't need to ask you to help my friend get a loan."
He is in front of me now. We are standing in the kitchen and I feel it, I am done, fed up! "Yes, you do! We are still married. If he doesn't pay we're responsible for that loan. You should have asked-" My voice raised to near yelling and I am shaking.
"Fuck you," He screams back at me "I'm a grown man, I don't need a mother to tell me what I can do. Jude is like a brother to me, he'll pay."
"Who am I?" I screamed back. He stands there starring at me. "Who am I?"
He turns to leave toward the bedroom and I step in his way. "I'm your wife!" I scream at him as I point to my chest.
His eyes turn black, his face expressionless. He grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the side of the creme colored refridgerater. "Fuck you Bitch!" My eyes wince and I fill with anger.
"Fuck you!" I scream back. I know I am wrong. I know I won't win, but something inside of me can not stop what I am doing. I stand against the refridgerator, my shoulders held against it and my face full of anger as I stare him down. He is still for a moment, then let's my shoulder's go, turns to grab his keys and slams the front door as he leaves the apartment!
"I am your wife!" I scream as the door slams behind him.
Monday, October 26th, 1987
JP lied to me! He told me we would only be responsible for 6 weeks. I called the bank today, on my break, and we are responsible for 1 year! 1 YEAR! The man went on to say that if Jude misses just 2 payments then it will ruin our credit. That would blow our chances for buying a house or a new car. Bull shit JP! You follow Jude like a puppy dog, you would do anything for him, but for me, your own wife, I get nothing! I sit here, wishing I could call him and tell him I know he lied to me, point it out like he does each time to me, but deep down inside I know that would be wrong. JP tells me I don't know what having a friend is like. Maybe he is right. I tried to get friends, but he tells me that all my friends just want to use me.
I feel like I'm circling! I can't talk to JP. I am lonely. I wish he would call me, send me flower's or something. I have so many thoughts in my head they are all getting confused and jumbled. I just want to forget everything, I can't handle this. I want to be able to love and trust him, yet, I feel so stupid right now. Does he still love me? If he doesn't please just tell me. I just want to be loved by someone other then a cat. The calls at work are slow, I pick up the phone and call JP's work. He comes to the phone and I quietly tell him "I know you lied to me, I called the bank. We are responsible for that loan for 1 year! Don't lie to me again or I swear I will leave!" I hang up. I have no idea were I’d go, if I was to leave. But, I can’t stay here and put up with this anymore. I’m like a spec of dust in a twilight of shadows, always searching for truth. No matter what I say nothing matters to him. I want to cry so bad just open up and let everything come out. I concentrate on work, and counting the minute's as they pass. I contemplate on calling the country club back and see if they have any openings for a coat check girl.
Jon Paul thinks I’m unhappy over money and he's all wrong. Money just makes life harder. I just want to know how he really feels about me. God knows for all I know he could have come here, married me and divorced me when he’s a citizen. Then bring his first wife and kid over here. Except for the fact she just got married. Maybe she got tired of waiting.. See my immagination is just grand!
The woman next door just told me she is pregnant again. Third child! She looked so happy. I bet she's not lonely. She doesn't eat dinner alone at night. She doesn't sit around waiting for her husband to come home just so she could talk to someone other then her cat Chrissy. I don't think she even has a cat.
Sometimes I wonder if having a child would bring us closer together? I wouldn't be so lonely all the time, thats for sure. I could love someone, be loved!
Sunday, October 25Th, 1987
The time has changed. It looks awfully weird, like the darkness is hovering over the apartment. I keep hoping it will mask my loneliness! But, lonliness is all I seem to be feeling lately. I am determined that today is different. JP left with Jude today. Saying he will be back later I decided to spend the day cleaning the apartment perfectly! There is no dust or garbage anywhere! Dinner is in the oven staying warm and I am sure he will love it!
He looks so happy when he walks in the door. My hopes grow high that tonight will be a good night. He throws his keys on the counter and sits at the table opening yesterdays mail. "There's something there I don't understand, from a bank." I tell him.
"Ya, I helped Jude get a loan."
I stop in my tracks. I already have trouble paying the rent and the many credit cards that he has opened. I don't trust Jude to make a payment on anything, let a lone one we have signed for. "You cosigned for a loan for him?" I try hard to keep my tone in line and mask the suprise and anger over my face.
"Ya, he asked me too."
"You didn't ask me-" I stopped in mid sentance. I know better. JP pushes his chair back as he stands up.
"I don't need to ask you to help my friend get a loan."
He is in front of me now. We are standing in the kitchen and I feel it, I am done, fed up! "Yes, you do! We are still married. If he doesn't pay we're responsible for that loan. You should have asked-" My voice raised to near yelling and I am shaking.
"Fuck you," He screams back at me "I'm a grown man, I don't need a mother to tell me what I can do. Jude is like a brother to me, he'll pay."
"Who am I?" I screamed back. He stands there starring at me. "Who am I?"
He turns to leave toward the bedroom and I step in his way. "I'm your wife!" I scream at him as I point to my chest.
His eyes turn black, his face expressionless. He grabs my shoulders and pushes me against the side of the creme colored refridgerater. "Fuck you Bitch!" My eyes wince and I fill with anger.
"Fuck you!" I scream back. I know I am wrong. I know I won't win, but something inside of me can not stop what I am doing. I stand against the refridgerator, my shoulders held against it and my face full of anger as I stare him down. He is still for a moment, then let's my shoulder's go, turns to grab his keys and slams the front door as he leaves the apartment!
"I am your wife!" I scream as the door slams behind him.
Monday, October 26th, 1987
JP lied to me! He told me we would only be responsible for 6 weeks. I called the bank today, on my break, and we are responsible for 1 year! 1 YEAR! The man went on to say that if Jude misses just 2 payments then it will ruin our credit. That would blow our chances for buying a house or a new car. Bull shit JP! You follow Jude like a puppy dog, you would do anything for him, but for me, your own wife, I get nothing! I sit here, wishing I could call him and tell him I know he lied to me, point it out like he does each time to me, but deep down inside I know that would be wrong. JP tells me I don't know what having a friend is like. Maybe he is right. I tried to get friends, but he tells me that all my friends just want to use me.
I feel like I'm circling! I can't talk to JP. I am lonely. I wish he would call me, send me flower's or something. I have so many thoughts in my head they are all getting confused and jumbled. I just want to forget everything, I can't handle this. I want to be able to love and trust him, yet, I feel so stupid right now. Does he still love me? If he doesn't please just tell me. I just want to be loved by someone other then a cat. The calls at work are slow, I pick up the phone and call JP's work. He comes to the phone and I quietly tell him "I know you lied to me, I called the bank. We are responsible for that loan for 1 year! Don't lie to me again or I swear I will leave!" I hang up. I have no idea were I’d go, if I was to leave. But, I can’t stay here and put up with this anymore. I’m like a spec of dust in a twilight of shadows, always searching for truth. No matter what I say nothing matters to him. I want to cry so bad just open up and let everything come out. I concentrate on work, and counting the minute's as they pass. I contemplate on calling the country club back and see if they have any openings for a coat check girl.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Chapter Two - I'm Not Giving Up!
Friday, September 18Th 1987
This is the first full day of the new Samantha! It was clear tonight when he came home that he didn't want to hear about my troubles. He sat on the couch starring at the TV while I was trying to talk to him. I wanted him to just reach up and grab me and hug me. Instead, during a commercial he looked at me and said "What's your fucking problem? You know I don't want to hear it?" It was like he hit me across the face with his fist. My stomach turned cold and my eye's began to fill with tears. I got up quickly and walked down the hall into the bedroom. Where I stood at the window, starring outside. I swear sometimes I think all my troubles would just go away if he would just touch me. The only time he does is when he wants sex. Of course I am expected to perform on command! Is this normal? does everyone feel this way? What is wrong with me? Why do I seem to be fighting this so much?
I have no idea how this new me will be. I know though it must last the rest of my life. I cannot turn back. I wish I could talk to JP yet you heard him he doesn’t really want to hear that stuff. No one does. Come on Samantha don’t start! You are a grown up person. You should never talk to people about your thoughts. You know that they don’t want to hear anything you have to say.
I watch the stars moving, blinking, realizing they are airplanes in the night. I wonder where they are going. Do the woman in there have husband's that talk to them, or listen to them? I think the movies all lie. Why don't they make a movie about a real married couple. Where the man never listens to his wife and the wife works herself to the bone to keep the household together?
Even I know the answer to that one.
I wipe my tears that are rolling down my face on my shirt. I can't even afford tissue! Life stinks!
Saturday, September 19Th 1987
I bought some plants today. I think I got a real good deal! I got up to go to the farmers market today. I asked JP if he wanted to go. He just squirmed in bed and rolled over. Now, as I walk in the front door with plants in my hand he is sitting once again on the couch in the living room. He is watching racing. I know better then to disturb him. He has worked hard all week and deserves to rest. I do however, worry about JP. I mean he sits there like a bump on a log. I try hard to get him to go somewhere. He just says no, he’s bored. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he always going to be bored if he doesn't get up and do something? I guess I shouldn't worry about it. I did marry him for better or worse.
My Birthday is next week. It will be the first birthday of mine since we met. I wonder what he will get me? I’m excited! Birthday's are just one day that you use to celebrate the 'special person'. I talked to JP about it. I think he was listening. I know we don't have a lot of money. I did tell him a card would be wonderful. He just grunted.
I put the plants on the patio, arranging them for both us inside and those outside to see how beautiful they are. Now, if I can just remember to water them.
Tomorrow we have to go to Oakland and visit with Jude. I don't really want to go. We only seem to visit with his friends. He says my friends only use me. I know I can't voice my opinion anymore but it hurts. The closer it gets the more fearful I am that I may say something that will get me in trouble. Yet, with this new me, maybe not. I feel good about myself, a little. Maybe this time I will be able to sit there and be a good wife. Not say anything and let them all have a good time.
Oh lets just be honest with ourselves. The only reason we go over to Judes house is to get stoned and play music. I am expected to sit there and smile and look pretty. I am not to talk and since I have never done pot, or smoked I should say, I find the whole occasion boring. I mean really, what is it with pot that makes people so happy to just sit on the couch and star at a guitar? Then start laughing about it? I'd rather eat my shoe's!
Night
I finally finished my chores. JP left about an hour ago to go to Ron's apartment and help fix Charles' car. It was right about the time I started the vacuum cleaner. I don't blame him. My great grandmother always told me that vacuum cleaners hurt men's hears. Maybe that's really true.
I sit all alone. Lonely. I walked over to Ron's house to see him. He wasn’t there. If they were fixing a car wouldn't they be outside where the car was? My temptation to knock on the door was let wild! I walked up to the door and I remembered, the new me! All of this work trying to be the good wife. I turned and walked away. I love him so much why wouldn't he be there? His not keeping in touch with me is just - I can't describe.
I turn and walk back to our apartment. The apartment that I should be sharing with my husband. He is rarely home and when he is he spends it in front of the Television. I again wonder how other women put up with this? Is this really what a marriage is all about? Walking up the stairs I hear my friend Stacey yelling at her boyfriend. You can hear Anthony yelling back at her to "Shut up Stacey!"
I realize my life is totally normal. With the exception that I can not seem to be happy! What is wrong with me that I can not seem to be happy?
Sunday September 20Th, 1987
I am tired. It is near midnight and I have to work the next day and we are still at Jude's house. JP has drank way to much and now I am scared. How do I tell him he is too drunk to drive? I don't!
We finally are leaving and I mention that I would love to drive for a change. "Bitch, you drive like and idiot!" He quips back at me.
I expected his words, but I'm scared. "I promise to drive good. Give me the chance?" I am pleading. Watching my words carefully so as not to tip him off that I know he shouldn't be driving.
He opens the drivers door, looks at me "Get in the fucking car before I leave you". He holds his hand out to Jude, who hands him the joint he is holding. JP draws it up to his lips, takes a large drag off of it and hands it back to Jude. Waves his 'salute' as he is still holding his breath and gets in the car.
My brain scrambles to weigh its options. I have no money for a taxi, I am 45 miles away from home, its dark, It's Oakland and I am a blond female! The engine to the car revs up and I race to get into the passenger seat. The tire squeals off as my door is shutting and I hurry to get my seat belt on. Pulling the belt tightly across my chest I hold on to it!
JP exhales, "Who the fuck you are?" His accent thick and his words slurring.
It is the sentence that I was praying he wouldn't say. It's the sentence that says I am stupid and I should have known better then to insinuate he was to drunk and stoned to drive. Let alone to say this in front of his friend. I am doomed. I am locked in a car going 85 miles an hour down 880 with a man that is stoned, drunk and determined to show me who is boss. I sit as still as I can, my face turned to the side window as I watch the stars in the sky.
"Who the fuck you are?" He screams again. Did he think I didn't hear him? I don't dare answer. He wants to fight and I am to tired. I will myself home. Please God, let me get home in one piece.
We can't afford for him to get stopped again. He already has a court date tomorrow for his other tickets. When is he ever going to learn? What will the officer say to me if they stop us, when they realize that I am sober and in the passenger seat? Would they let me whisper to them that I tried? Would they even believe me? Would they take me in also for letting him get behind the wheel like this? He is going 105 now, passing cars like they are standing still and swerving through all the lanes. Please, Someone please help me!
I can see JP turn to look towards me. "fuck you!" he says as he raises his right hand up and pushes my shoulder into the passenger door. I raise my hands up to my head as quickly as I can in hopes to protect it if he pushes me again. "fuck you, bitch" He yells at me again as he places his hand back on the steering wheel "fuck, you're not worth it."
I sit frozen with my hands up. Realizing he is done. His point has been received. I was wrong and should have never said anything. I broke rules #1, 2, 3, 8, 9 and 10 all in one moment. I put my hands on my shoulder, holding myself, as if I am cold. In reality I am shaking. I stare at the stars, willing the tears not to come. They are welled up in my eyes, one blink and they start to fall. I can't seem to get it right. I'm not giving up, I can get this right I know I can. My mother was married for years to my father. I can do this.
I wish I was on a star, looking down at this moment, like it was a bad dream. I will myself to forget, and concentrate on what I can do to be better. Tomorrow will be better. I turn my head as if to look behind the passengers door and wipe my tears. Turning back I look straight forward, my shoulder's relax for a moment as I see our exit. Hamilton Avenue is right in front of me, we are only 5 minutes away from being home. We drive in silence till we get home.
Sunday, September 27, 1987
My birthday came and went with nothing. Not even a card. I got one each from my parents. Mom's came a few days before and I was sure to put it on the entertainment center. He couldn't have missed it! I wasn't asking for a gift or a lot of hoopla. Really, I would have been happy just to have a card handed to me! Just remember me!
I went to the store and bought Chrissy a catnip mouse. She is adorable as she is running around the apartment looking for the mouse. She makes me smile watching her play. I could probably say she is my best friend. If it's possible for a person to have a cat as there best friend. I'm going to say it is. I couldn't live with out her.
This is the first full day of the new Samantha! It was clear tonight when he came home that he didn't want to hear about my troubles. He sat on the couch starring at the TV while I was trying to talk to him. I wanted him to just reach up and grab me and hug me. Instead, during a commercial he looked at me and said "What's your fucking problem? You know I don't want to hear it?" It was like he hit me across the face with his fist. My stomach turned cold and my eye's began to fill with tears. I got up quickly and walked down the hall into the bedroom. Where I stood at the window, starring outside. I swear sometimes I think all my troubles would just go away if he would just touch me. The only time he does is when he wants sex. Of course I am expected to perform on command! Is this normal? does everyone feel this way? What is wrong with me? Why do I seem to be fighting this so much?
I have no idea how this new me will be. I know though it must last the rest of my life. I cannot turn back. I wish I could talk to JP yet you heard him he doesn’t really want to hear that stuff. No one does. Come on Samantha don’t start! You are a grown up person. You should never talk to people about your thoughts. You know that they don’t want to hear anything you have to say.
I watch the stars moving, blinking, realizing they are airplanes in the night. I wonder where they are going. Do the woman in there have husband's that talk to them, or listen to them? I think the movies all lie. Why don't they make a movie about a real married couple. Where the man never listens to his wife and the wife works herself to the bone to keep the household together?
Even I know the answer to that one.
I wipe my tears that are rolling down my face on my shirt. I can't even afford tissue! Life stinks!
Saturday, September 19Th 1987
I bought some plants today. I think I got a real good deal! I got up to go to the farmers market today. I asked JP if he wanted to go. He just squirmed in bed and rolled over. Now, as I walk in the front door with plants in my hand he is sitting once again on the couch in the living room. He is watching racing. I know better then to disturb him. He has worked hard all week and deserves to rest. I do however, worry about JP. I mean he sits there like a bump on a log. I try hard to get him to go somewhere. He just says no, he’s bored. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't he always going to be bored if he doesn't get up and do something? I guess I shouldn't worry about it. I did marry him for better or worse.
My Birthday is next week. It will be the first birthday of mine since we met. I wonder what he will get me? I’m excited! Birthday's are just one day that you use to celebrate the 'special person'. I talked to JP about it. I think he was listening. I know we don't have a lot of money. I did tell him a card would be wonderful. He just grunted.
I put the plants on the patio, arranging them for both us inside and those outside to see how beautiful they are. Now, if I can just remember to water them.
Tomorrow we have to go to Oakland and visit with Jude. I don't really want to go. We only seem to visit with his friends. He says my friends only use me. I know I can't voice my opinion anymore but it hurts. The closer it gets the more fearful I am that I may say something that will get me in trouble. Yet, with this new me, maybe not. I feel good about myself, a little. Maybe this time I will be able to sit there and be a good wife. Not say anything and let them all have a good time.
Oh lets just be honest with ourselves. The only reason we go over to Judes house is to get stoned and play music. I am expected to sit there and smile and look pretty. I am not to talk and since I have never done pot, or smoked I should say, I find the whole occasion boring. I mean really, what is it with pot that makes people so happy to just sit on the couch and star at a guitar? Then start laughing about it? I'd rather eat my shoe's!
Night
I finally finished my chores. JP left about an hour ago to go to Ron's apartment and help fix Charles' car. It was right about the time I started the vacuum cleaner. I don't blame him. My great grandmother always told me that vacuum cleaners hurt men's hears. Maybe that's really true.
I sit all alone. Lonely. I walked over to Ron's house to see him. He wasn’t there. If they were fixing a car wouldn't they be outside where the car was? My temptation to knock on the door was let wild! I walked up to the door and I remembered, the new me! All of this work trying to be the good wife. I turned and walked away. I love him so much why wouldn't he be there? His not keeping in touch with me is just - I can't describe.
I turn and walk back to our apartment. The apartment that I should be sharing with my husband. He is rarely home and when he is he spends it in front of the Television. I again wonder how other women put up with this? Is this really what a marriage is all about? Walking up the stairs I hear my friend Stacey yelling at her boyfriend. You can hear Anthony yelling back at her to "Shut up Stacey!"
I realize my life is totally normal. With the exception that I can not seem to be happy! What is wrong with me that I can not seem to be happy?
Sunday September 20Th, 1987
I am tired. It is near midnight and I have to work the next day and we are still at Jude's house. JP has drank way to much and now I am scared. How do I tell him he is too drunk to drive? I don't!
We finally are leaving and I mention that I would love to drive for a change. "Bitch, you drive like and idiot!" He quips back at me.
I expected his words, but I'm scared. "I promise to drive good. Give me the chance?" I am pleading. Watching my words carefully so as not to tip him off that I know he shouldn't be driving.
He opens the drivers door, looks at me "Get in the fucking car before I leave you". He holds his hand out to Jude, who hands him the joint he is holding. JP draws it up to his lips, takes a large drag off of it and hands it back to Jude. Waves his 'salute' as he is still holding his breath and gets in the car.
My brain scrambles to weigh its options. I have no money for a taxi, I am 45 miles away from home, its dark, It's Oakland and I am a blond female! The engine to the car revs up and I race to get into the passenger seat. The tire squeals off as my door is shutting and I hurry to get my seat belt on. Pulling the belt tightly across my chest I hold on to it!
JP exhales, "Who the fuck you are?" His accent thick and his words slurring.
It is the sentence that I was praying he wouldn't say. It's the sentence that says I am stupid and I should have known better then to insinuate he was to drunk and stoned to drive. Let alone to say this in front of his friend. I am doomed. I am locked in a car going 85 miles an hour down 880 with a man that is stoned, drunk and determined to show me who is boss. I sit as still as I can, my face turned to the side window as I watch the stars in the sky.
"Who the fuck you are?" He screams again. Did he think I didn't hear him? I don't dare answer. He wants to fight and I am to tired. I will myself home. Please God, let me get home in one piece.
We can't afford for him to get stopped again. He already has a court date tomorrow for his other tickets. When is he ever going to learn? What will the officer say to me if they stop us, when they realize that I am sober and in the passenger seat? Would they let me whisper to them that I tried? Would they even believe me? Would they take me in also for letting him get behind the wheel like this? He is going 105 now, passing cars like they are standing still and swerving through all the lanes. Please, Someone please help me!
I can see JP turn to look towards me. "fuck you!" he says as he raises his right hand up and pushes my shoulder into the passenger door. I raise my hands up to my head as quickly as I can in hopes to protect it if he pushes me again. "fuck you, bitch" He yells at me again as he places his hand back on the steering wheel "fuck, you're not worth it."
I sit frozen with my hands up. Realizing he is done. His point has been received. I was wrong and should have never said anything. I broke rules #1, 2, 3, 8, 9 and 10 all in one moment. I put my hands on my shoulder, holding myself, as if I am cold. In reality I am shaking. I stare at the stars, willing the tears not to come. They are welled up in my eyes, one blink and they start to fall. I can't seem to get it right. I'm not giving up, I can get this right I know I can. My mother was married for years to my father. I can do this.
I wish I was on a star, looking down at this moment, like it was a bad dream. I will myself to forget, and concentrate on what I can do to be better. Tomorrow will be better. I turn my head as if to look behind the passengers door and wipe my tears. Turning back I look straight forward, my shoulder's relax for a moment as I see our exit. Hamilton Avenue is right in front of me, we are only 5 minutes away from being home. We drive in silence till we get home.
Sunday, September 27, 1987
My birthday came and went with nothing. Not even a card. I got one each from my parents. Mom's came a few days before and I was sure to put it on the entertainment center. He couldn't have missed it! I wasn't asking for a gift or a lot of hoopla. Really, I would have been happy just to have a card handed to me! Just remember me!
I went to the store and bought Chrissy a catnip mouse. She is adorable as she is running around the apartment looking for the mouse. She makes me smile watching her play. I could probably say she is my best friend. If it's possible for a person to have a cat as there best friend. I'm going to say it is. I couldn't live with out her.
Chapter One - Never The Victim
Thursday, September 10, 1987
I sit staring out of the dining room window at the Bank of the West building, towering in the distance. The words no longer flowing, the stories have ended. I could ask myself how I got here, but that would be stupid and break rule #10 and probably lead to breaking rule #8. Quite possibly lead to #2 and #9 coming into question and then be reminding of #1, #3, #5 and I could go on. Besides, I know how I got here! I made the decisions that brought me to this point. I am not the helpless victim, I chose this life.
Lately, Jon Paul has had to remind me far to often of the rules. So here they are (let's not forget them):
10 Rules I Must Follow
1. Do not speak unless spoken to.
2. Do not say anything stupid
3. No one cares about what you think.
4. Remember you are ugly and fat.
5. You are lucky to be married.
6. No one else will ever love you.
7. Always keep the house clean.
8. Never argue or disagree.
9. Always do what you are supposed to do.
10. Don’t be a bitch or stupid.
Remember the rules! He shouldn’t have to remind you over and over about them. They should just be second nature.
I give up on the thought of writing and put away my pen and paper. I have to start thinking of making dinner before Jon Paul gets home. I wonder what he would want to eat tonight and I am again left with no idea's. I could call his work, but he would get upset I bothered him, tell me it's a stupid question, that he wants steak and fries. I will once again remind him we don't make enough for steak and fries 7 days a week and it will lead to another fight. I could wait till he gets home and ask him, but he would get upset it wasn't ready when he got home, start yelling at me for being a stupid idiot and launch himself onto the couch to call out names to me while I am left to cook a dinner while he yells he is hungry and I am once again - Stupid Bitch. My only other option other then driving to the store for the 'steak and fries' (of which we do not have the money) is to guess
I peer into the cupboard and rummage into the fridge. The findings are slim but totally workable. Since I have determined that no matter what I do I will be in trouble I make what I would like to have for dinner. Frittata.
I mix the eggs and take the left over tri-tip out of the fridge and began to cut it into chunks. I use the left over vegetable's from the previous dinner and am proud of the wonderful meal that I have prepared. It's lovely! Sitting in the skillet waiting for Jon Paul to come home.
Today is the day he will walk into the door, see the dinner, smile wide while grabbing me by my waist and tell me that he loves me. That I am the only one he ever could be with. That me making dinner for him (for us) just proves to him how much I love him and he loves me!
I sit patiently at the dining room table. We were married in May and shortly after that moved across the street to a 2 bedroom apartment on the second floor. Much nicer and a little pricier then the 1 bedroom I had had on my own, with both our salaries we could afford this. Besides, the memories of the other place weren't optimal. This was our chance for a new start.
I watch the dinner on the stove, getting colder as the hours pass by and I am once again reminded that he won't be coming home anytime soon. I know better then to call his work or friends and try to find him. Instead I make myself a plate and sit at the large wooden dining room table, alone. It's better this way. I don't get yelled at for making the wrong dinner. Well, at least for now I don't.
It is 10 o'clock and he still isn't home. Since I have to go to work the next morning I clean up the kitchen the best I can and place his dinner in the fridge. I am worried beyond belief at not knowing where he is, but know from past moments, that it is non of my business and I am best to go to bed. Sleep however doesn't come easily, it never does when this happens. I toss and turn till I hear his car drive up and park in front of our garage. My body tenses, I pretend to be asleep while I assess the situation. Will he be tired from working? Was he with friends and drunk? Is he Stoned? Is he going to be mad if I am awake or should I pretend to be asleep?
His key is in the door and I am still playing my options. Should I get up to warm his dinner? When I realize, I am frozen! The possibilities and variables are endless and I am scared of making the wrong move. I don't want to fight, Brain please, what should I do? Give me a sign!!!
The front door slams shut and I am sure all the neighbors are now awake (don't tell him to shut the door more quietly!). I can hear him throw his keys on the kitchen counter. I can't hear his breathing and he hasn't said anything from under his breath yet. 'Come on, give me a sign!!' I hear him walking into the bedroom. He throws something down, probably his jacket. I hear water, no, now he is peeing in the bathroom. Still no sign! The toilet flushes and I hear him walking into the bedroom. "Fuck" I hear. My sign! The lights come on. "Fucking can't see a damn thing!" I am now frozen! My body doesn't move an inch. I steady my breathing to be what I would believe it would be if I was asleep.
Please let him think I am asleep. 'Don't move Samantha, Don't move!'
He opens and slams drawers shut, and then, throws something. I hear it hit the wall, but I don't dare move. I am asleep. Yes, it dawns on me at this point that he probably knows I am not really sleeping. But lets weigh my options here. He is mad now. If I get up, he will have me to yell at! I won't get to sleep at all tonight. He will have left me into a crying ball of stupid. He won't talk to me for a few days. Till he wants sex. If I stay in bed, pretending to be asleep, he will continue to be angry and will either finally come to bed or shake me till I wake up. I have a no win situation. I'm playing asleep!
He finally flips off the light and crawls into bed. Rolling over and trying to take off my pants, his breath smells of alcohol as he begins to kiss the back of my neck. His hands come up to my shoulder, trying to pull me on my back. That's when I smell it, the smell of nicotine mixed with marijuana. Oh, great! This is totally a no win situation! What do I do. My brain goes into hyper speed as I weight the options I have.
I can pretend to be asleep. He will continue to get what he wants.
I can wake up and tell him I'm not in the mood. This will not go over well. 1 week of pure hell at the least.
I can wake up and at least go along with it. I would rather throw up in all my shoes!
I can moan and groan and pretend I am having a bad dream and hope he stops!
I choose the moaning. I wiggle my body, pretend I am asleep, mumbling under my breath about how busy I am and I'm burning the cookies! I slowly move around and pull up my underwear and move to my stomach. I hear him mumble. "Fucking Bitch, all you do is sit home all day while I work hard. Fuck you!" I don't move. I lay flat on my stomach, my legs pressed tightly together my head facing away from him and my arms carefully protecting my breasts! The hardest position for him to penetrate and the safest for me! I don't comment on what he says. Nothing I could ever say would make me win this situation. I remind myself to pick up the items he threw in the bedroom in the morning and I will myself to sleep.
At least he is safe!
Friday, September 11, 1987
I wake up, my eyes still closed, his hand draped over my waist and I listen. Listen for a sign, something to go on. I hear the traffic outside, the morning bird chirping most likely at the neighbor cat, and I hear his breathing. His breathing is rhythmic, as if he is still asleep. I begin to roll my body towards the edge of the bed, my cat Chrissy feels me stirring and I hear her jumping off the bed. I put out my hands as I brace myself from hitting the floor. My legs fall off the bed and I am now face down on the floor. I need to add vacuuming under the bed to my to do list. That and I need to find a more graceful way to get out of bed in the morning!
I pick myself up and tiptoe to the end of the bed. There on the floor was the stack of my magazines that he threw last night. I contemplating on picking them up but decide it can wait. I don't want to wake him and magazines are not a quite thing to pick up and put back. The risk is to great! I quietly grab my clothes and close the bathroom door behind me. I move in lightening speed. I figure I probably have a good 5 minutes at the most to get myself in and out before he wakes up. My goal - Get out of the shower and dressed before he wakes!
I am in and out of the shower in under 7 minutes. I run my time through my mind as I try to pull up my pantyhose over my still wet legs. I give up, I don't know how I fell behind in my time in the shower, and on top of that, I'm tired of the struggle it takes to put on pantyhose over wet legs. They are half on and I vow to fix them once I get to work.
I walk into the kitchen, grab a bowl from the cupboard and spoon from the drawer and pour myself a bowl of cereal. I check the date on the milk before I pour it and carry the cereal to the second bathroom in the apartment. I quickly take a bite followed by putting on my eyeshadow, a bite and then eyeliner, a bite and then mascara. I finish my make-up and cereal in sync of each other, drop off the bowl as I walk through the kitchen, grab my purse and head to the door.
When I hear him. "You leaving already?"
In my rushed voice I say, "Yes, sorry, I'm about to be caught in traffic if I don't!"
"What?" He asks again. He always has me repeat everything twice.
"I'm going to be stuck in traffic if I don't leave now, so sorry!" My hand on the door I leave as he is walking toward me.
I made it! Out the door without a touch! It feels as if I won! In reality, I will be 40 minutes early to work.
I head out into my car and drive to northbound on ramp of 880 to wait in line.
Once to work I can let out a sigh. I drive into the parking lot of B C Produce, wondering if anyone will be here this early again. The controller strolls in around 10 till and the president won't get in until just after eight. The sales crew is usually getting ready to make there sales calls right about now.
I walk in through the glass door. It flaps back and forth behind me as I head to my desk. A large wooden desk with a counter on the front for people to lean on and look down on me. This is my domain! Where I shine! Where all the troubles are gone and everything is within my control. I am the receptionist, if you want to talk to someone in this building, you have to talk to me first! I put my purse down on the desk just south of the door. A large plate glass window is my view to the outside, where I watch the people as they walk up to the entrance. The president's office just behind me, where he can hear everything I say, except on the rare occasions he closes his door. My bosses office is next to his, where she can see my everymove! I walk over to the window, reach beind the copier and flip the switch. "Good morning copier! It's Friday, price sheet day!" Meaning, we will be working hand-in-hand today so no quiting on me today.
I look at the clock, I still have 20 minutes. I go to reach for my lunch bag and realize I left without making lunch. I go through my purse pulling out my wallet. One dollar! I shove my hand into the bottom of my purse digging for change! The chances of me finding enough change to afford something to eat in this side of town would be slim. Right now, I have enough for a couple candy bars. While it's not healthy, it will have to do. I find another fourty-five cents floating in the bottom of my purse, add it to the dollar and tuck it into my wallet. I open my desk drawer to place my purse in it and look into the back. I try to keep a hidding stash of food in the back, today, saltine crackers are on the menu. My only hope is that one of the drivers that come's to do his daily check-in will bring me something that fell off his truck while he was out delivering.
Sometimes it happens.
I sit staring out of the dining room window at the Bank of the West building, towering in the distance. The words no longer flowing, the stories have ended. I could ask myself how I got here, but that would be stupid and break rule #10 and probably lead to breaking rule #8. Quite possibly lead to #2 and #9 coming into question and then be reminding of #1, #3, #5 and I could go on. Besides, I know how I got here! I made the decisions that brought me to this point. I am not the helpless victim, I chose this life.
Lately, Jon Paul has had to remind me far to often of the rules. So here they are (let's not forget them):
10 Rules I Must Follow
1. Do not speak unless spoken to.
2. Do not say anything stupid
3. No one cares about what you think.
4. Remember you are ugly and fat.
5. You are lucky to be married.
6. No one else will ever love you.
7. Always keep the house clean.
8. Never argue or disagree.
9. Always do what you are supposed to do.
10. Don’t be a bitch or stupid.
Remember the rules! He shouldn’t have to remind you over and over about them. They should just be second nature.
I give up on the thought of writing and put away my pen and paper. I have to start thinking of making dinner before Jon Paul gets home. I wonder what he would want to eat tonight and I am again left with no idea's. I could call his work, but he would get upset I bothered him, tell me it's a stupid question, that he wants steak and fries. I will once again remind him we don't make enough for steak and fries 7 days a week and it will lead to another fight. I could wait till he gets home and ask him, but he would get upset it wasn't ready when he got home, start yelling at me for being a stupid idiot and launch himself onto the couch to call out names to me while I am left to cook a dinner while he yells he is hungry and I am once again - Stupid Bitch. My only other option other then driving to the store for the 'steak and fries' (of which we do not have the money) is to guess
I peer into the cupboard and rummage into the fridge. The findings are slim but totally workable. Since I have determined that no matter what I do I will be in trouble I make what I would like to have for dinner. Frittata.
I mix the eggs and take the left over tri-tip out of the fridge and began to cut it into chunks. I use the left over vegetable's from the previous dinner and am proud of the wonderful meal that I have prepared. It's lovely! Sitting in the skillet waiting for Jon Paul to come home.
Today is the day he will walk into the door, see the dinner, smile wide while grabbing me by my waist and tell me that he loves me. That I am the only one he ever could be with. That me making dinner for him (for us) just proves to him how much I love him and he loves me!
I sit patiently at the dining room table. We were married in May and shortly after that moved across the street to a 2 bedroom apartment on the second floor. Much nicer and a little pricier then the 1 bedroom I had had on my own, with both our salaries we could afford this. Besides, the memories of the other place weren't optimal. This was our chance for a new start.
I watch the dinner on the stove, getting colder as the hours pass by and I am once again reminded that he won't be coming home anytime soon. I know better then to call his work or friends and try to find him. Instead I make myself a plate and sit at the large wooden dining room table, alone. It's better this way. I don't get yelled at for making the wrong dinner. Well, at least for now I don't.
It is 10 o'clock and he still isn't home. Since I have to go to work the next morning I clean up the kitchen the best I can and place his dinner in the fridge. I am worried beyond belief at not knowing where he is, but know from past moments, that it is non of my business and I am best to go to bed. Sleep however doesn't come easily, it never does when this happens. I toss and turn till I hear his car drive up and park in front of our garage. My body tenses, I pretend to be asleep while I assess the situation. Will he be tired from working? Was he with friends and drunk? Is he Stoned? Is he going to be mad if I am awake or should I pretend to be asleep?
His key is in the door and I am still playing my options. Should I get up to warm his dinner? When I realize, I am frozen! The possibilities and variables are endless and I am scared of making the wrong move. I don't want to fight, Brain please, what should I do? Give me a sign!!!
The front door slams shut and I am sure all the neighbors are now awake (don't tell him to shut the door more quietly!). I can hear him throw his keys on the kitchen counter. I can't hear his breathing and he hasn't said anything from under his breath yet. 'Come on, give me a sign!!' I hear him walking into the bedroom. He throws something down, probably his jacket. I hear water, no, now he is peeing in the bathroom. Still no sign! The toilet flushes and I hear him walking into the bedroom. "Fuck" I hear. My sign! The lights come on. "Fucking can't see a damn thing!" I am now frozen! My body doesn't move an inch. I steady my breathing to be what I would believe it would be if I was asleep.
Please let him think I am asleep. 'Don't move Samantha, Don't move!'
He opens and slams drawers shut, and then, throws something. I hear it hit the wall, but I don't dare move. I am asleep. Yes, it dawns on me at this point that he probably knows I am not really sleeping. But lets weigh my options here. He is mad now. If I get up, he will have me to yell at! I won't get to sleep at all tonight. He will have left me into a crying ball of stupid. He won't talk to me for a few days. Till he wants sex. If I stay in bed, pretending to be asleep, he will continue to be angry and will either finally come to bed or shake me till I wake up. I have a no win situation. I'm playing asleep!
He finally flips off the light and crawls into bed. Rolling over and trying to take off my pants, his breath smells of alcohol as he begins to kiss the back of my neck. His hands come up to my shoulder, trying to pull me on my back. That's when I smell it, the smell of nicotine mixed with marijuana. Oh, great! This is totally a no win situation! What do I do. My brain goes into hyper speed as I weight the options I have.
I can pretend to be asleep. He will continue to get what he wants.
I can wake up and tell him I'm not in the mood. This will not go over well. 1 week of pure hell at the least.
I can wake up and at least go along with it. I would rather throw up in all my shoes!
I can moan and groan and pretend I am having a bad dream and hope he stops!
I choose the moaning. I wiggle my body, pretend I am asleep, mumbling under my breath about how busy I am and I'm burning the cookies! I slowly move around and pull up my underwear and move to my stomach. I hear him mumble. "Fucking Bitch, all you do is sit home all day while I work hard. Fuck you!" I don't move. I lay flat on my stomach, my legs pressed tightly together my head facing away from him and my arms carefully protecting my breasts! The hardest position for him to penetrate and the safest for me! I don't comment on what he says. Nothing I could ever say would make me win this situation. I remind myself to pick up the items he threw in the bedroom in the morning and I will myself to sleep.
At least he is safe!
Friday, September 11, 1987
I wake up, my eyes still closed, his hand draped over my waist and I listen. Listen for a sign, something to go on. I hear the traffic outside, the morning bird chirping most likely at the neighbor cat, and I hear his breathing. His breathing is rhythmic, as if he is still asleep. I begin to roll my body towards the edge of the bed, my cat Chrissy feels me stirring and I hear her jumping off the bed. I put out my hands as I brace myself from hitting the floor. My legs fall off the bed and I am now face down on the floor. I need to add vacuuming under the bed to my to do list. That and I need to find a more graceful way to get out of bed in the morning!
I pick myself up and tiptoe to the end of the bed. There on the floor was the stack of my magazines that he threw last night. I contemplating on picking them up but decide it can wait. I don't want to wake him and magazines are not a quite thing to pick up and put back. The risk is to great! I quietly grab my clothes and close the bathroom door behind me. I move in lightening speed. I figure I probably have a good 5 minutes at the most to get myself in and out before he wakes up. My goal - Get out of the shower and dressed before he wakes!
I am in and out of the shower in under 7 minutes. I run my time through my mind as I try to pull up my pantyhose over my still wet legs. I give up, I don't know how I fell behind in my time in the shower, and on top of that, I'm tired of the struggle it takes to put on pantyhose over wet legs. They are half on and I vow to fix them once I get to work.
I walk into the kitchen, grab a bowl from the cupboard and spoon from the drawer and pour myself a bowl of cereal. I check the date on the milk before I pour it and carry the cereal to the second bathroom in the apartment. I quickly take a bite followed by putting on my eyeshadow, a bite and then eyeliner, a bite and then mascara. I finish my make-up and cereal in sync of each other, drop off the bowl as I walk through the kitchen, grab my purse and head to the door.
When I hear him. "You leaving already?"
In my rushed voice I say, "Yes, sorry, I'm about to be caught in traffic if I don't!"
"What?" He asks again. He always has me repeat everything twice.
"I'm going to be stuck in traffic if I don't leave now, so sorry!" My hand on the door I leave as he is walking toward me.
I made it! Out the door without a touch! It feels as if I won! In reality, I will be 40 minutes early to work.
I head out into my car and drive to northbound on ramp of 880 to wait in line.
Once to work I can let out a sigh. I drive into the parking lot of B C Produce, wondering if anyone will be here this early again. The controller strolls in around 10 till and the president won't get in until just after eight. The sales crew is usually getting ready to make there sales calls right about now.
I walk in through the glass door. It flaps back and forth behind me as I head to my desk. A large wooden desk with a counter on the front for people to lean on and look down on me. This is my domain! Where I shine! Where all the troubles are gone and everything is within my control. I am the receptionist, if you want to talk to someone in this building, you have to talk to me first! I put my purse down on the desk just south of the door. A large plate glass window is my view to the outside, where I watch the people as they walk up to the entrance. The president's office just behind me, where he can hear everything I say, except on the rare occasions he closes his door. My bosses office is next to his, where she can see my everymove! I walk over to the window, reach beind the copier and flip the switch. "Good morning copier! It's Friday, price sheet day!" Meaning, we will be working hand-in-hand today so no quiting on me today.
I look at the clock, I still have 20 minutes. I go to reach for my lunch bag and realize I left without making lunch. I go through my purse pulling out my wallet. One dollar! I shove my hand into the bottom of my purse digging for change! The chances of me finding enough change to afford something to eat in this side of town would be slim. Right now, I have enough for a couple candy bars. While it's not healthy, it will have to do. I find another fourty-five cents floating in the bottom of my purse, add it to the dollar and tuck it into my wallet. I open my desk drawer to place my purse in it and look into the back. I try to keep a hidding stash of food in the back, today, saltine crackers are on the menu. My only hope is that one of the drivers that come's to do his daily check-in will bring me something that fell off his truck while he was out delivering.
Sometimes it happens.