Dirty Laundry

I like airing my dirty laundry in public.
No pretense.
So, madame e monsieurs', enjoy some shadenfreude. Relish it.
In January I nearly killed a boy who stole my phone
In February, my best friend betrayed me for the scum of the earth, the wolf in sheep's clothing. A liar, to sat the least.
In February, I quit my job and ran away from NY. Ran away from the pain. Ran away from her. The lesson I learned? Never let sub-par people make you feel awful and give up your dreams.
In March, I was swallowed by the South. It stranded me there. No income for months. But it was nice to be in a show and have a boyfriend.
In March, an old love called me incessantly while being too drugged up to form words. This is why I hate drug abuse.
In April......not much happened. I rehearsed and enjoyed the bourgoise feeling of playing house (I didn't move in....but it still felt very "Honey, I'm home.") with my too-good-to-be-true boyfriend.
In May, the show ended, and my boyfriend and I broke up. It hurt, but sometimes you never see someone's true colors until things go sour. It marks the different between friends and fair-weather friends.
In May, I made a mistake of tsunamic proportions. I lied. I became what someone else accused me of once. And it nearly cost me a friend.
In May, I felt the most alone.
In May, I still couldn't get a job. Not even at Wal-mart.
In June, I got a job at steakhouse
In June, I figured out that at this job, at best, I would tentatively make $150 a week fulltime.
In June, I interviewed alot, and got nothing.
In July, I started seeing the ex again.
In August, my Dad left my Mom.
In August, my old love committed suicide.
In August, my old love wrote me 17 suicide letters and enclosed a ring with them before committing suicide. I have not read them yet.
In August, I made a last minute decision to move to Chicago.
In August, I nearly fell for old lies. But hearing an "I love you" doesn't change anything. By the way, I love you too.
In August I moved to Chicago.
In August, the day I left Dad came back.
In September, Dad gave Mom an ultimatum.
In September, Dad strangled Mom.
In September, Dad went to jail.
In September I got a job. A real job. A good job.
In September, I dreamed every night. I never dream.
In September. I had to be careful with a heart.
In September, someone bailed my dad out of jail. He hasn't had his trial yet.
In October, Dad sent me an e-mail asking me to call and "cheer him up, as family is most important to him".
In October, I realized that my own father doesn't know my phone number.

This is not a beg for pity. This an explanation to why I might be crazy.
On a positive note. I love Chicago. It's beautiful, and fantastically opportunistic without being dirty or depressing like NY.
And I heart my bestie, Chris......a great great great friend.
And I heart Ila. My oldest, and dearest.
And I live close to Grandma (yay!)
And my job is sooooo wonderful! In every way imaginable. The people, the pay, the hours, the proofing and editing work itself.
And soon I'll make it. I know my dreams will come true. And I'll make others' dreams come true too.