Twenty one days sober

Saturday, Dyed Roots

Saturday began with a trip to the salon where Caylin wore a white dress and Mary Jane shoes when she dyed my roots. Her hair was down and long and savage looking.

When I arrived in the mustang I parked in front of Cosmo Prof. I was looking at my phone when I opened the door and there were two women inside. They looked like I caught them talking about me, or at least they saw me approaching the door. I looked up, looks like I'm in the wrong place.

They laughed. The woman behind the counter had long black hair, was dressed in all black, looked like a goth or maybe into metal.

Which way is the salon, I pointed either direction.

Over there, she pointed behind her.

Thank you very much.

You're welcome.

I backed out and closed the door carefully and then made my way into the salon area. It's a series of different booths, drywall stalls with sinks and mirrors, salon lights and hair dryers in the walkway.

Another woman who was working on someone's hair immediately asked me, can I help you?

Oh I know where I'm going.

Who are you looking for?

Caylin, I pointed.

That's right.

Thanks.

I walked down a short hall and turned the corner then sat next to one of the hair dryers and waited.

This time Caylin bound up my hair and I told her what she missed since our appointment on November 22, 2023. I did most of the talking this time around and she gave me some advice on how to meet people. I believe one of the recommendations was a fitness boot camp deal where you got paired up and had to work with other people. I think she said that's how she met her husband and they continued to do that until she got pregnant with their first child.

While my hair was setting she stepped out to eat lunch and when she returned she said she got caught up on the salon tea. I regret that I didn't ask her what the tea was.

Caylin said Cosmo Prof is for people with cosmetology certifications to shop so they probably knew I didn't belong before I set foot in there. I regret that I didn't return to Cosmo Prof to ask the woman behind the counter for her name and then, I would like to take you out, would you like that too?


I imagine these scenarios where things are very easy. The person I'm approaching doesn't immediately look revolted, glance down and lock their eyes on their phone, or cough up, I have a boyfriend. I'm engaged. My husband will be here any moment.


Making Friends and Making Plans

I have never met someone in real life as a result of a dating app. And I have now paid for three of them. Hinge, Tinder, and Turn Up. I have now been ghosted on all three. First, by a person on Hinge who claimed she owned a business in Las Vegas who disappeared after I explained my unconventional fatherhood. Second, a woman from Tinder who I offered to take to the Fenton. Third, my cryptocurrency romance scammer. I also got dropped by someone I was texting with from Hinge but I'm not sure if something else is going on, it hasn't been long enough for me to conclude that I'm gone.

I've also now been dropped by multiple people that I've met in real life. But, I only dated one of them. And, I had a much more sexual encounter with the second one and we never even went on a date, just saw eachother at the night club two times.

What works? I am at a loss. Nothing I plan for works out the way I hope it does. I feel like everything is just up to chance, a fluke where I get started talking about something that interests the other person. This is probably because these are bars. And, people are going there to drink. Maybe they are going to meet people but probably not folks that are my age. My original intent was to go where there was good music, I could have a drink to loosen up, then I could get over the pandemic trauma that I have when I am around that many people and in an enclosed space where nobody is wearing a mask.

I have made a couple of friends outside of work. I'm not sure if I'll see Blake again but Code and I have been communicating frequently and making plans.

Things I have not tried that people keep telling me to do include Meetup, game night at the Moon Dog Meadery, singles night anywhere (Boxcar Arcade, Umbrella Dry Bar), local conventions.  My best friend thinks watching and learning about anime is also a good way to connect with women.

When I was at the comic book shop I felt like I could have made some good connections but it was a new location to me, new situation, the person behind the counter was very nice and seemed overly interested in me, I'm not sure if they were trying to connect or just upsell me from a couple mylar bags and cardboard backs into horror comic books. There was a goth woman in there but she was engrossed in something on the wall when I walked by and said, excuse me.

I'm also thinking about the things I want to do. Maybe I should put the events from October and beyond into Wattpad so that they can be read chronologically. Then I'll have to get the other stuff into order and add so it's like a long strange memoir of some kind. I want it to be a cautionary tale though: don't get old. If you get old, don't be old and single. If you have to be old and single, research ways to kill yourself so you don't have to live lonely and old for long.

I've now been sober for nineteen days and I'm off the acamprosate since Tuesday and I feel like my mood has normalized. I'm still susceptible to bouts of being excited and probably prone to do things that will lead me down the path to breaking my sobriety. But, I also have these shards of happiness that pierce my day and create memorable moments here or there. Even hearing the right song or listening to a new album and encountering something I enjoy like Robots Ate My Baby by Bile.


Last night I posted on instagram about being twenty days sober. Two people liked it. One was the personal account of 206 Rot and the other was Jess. What on earth is going on. I hope that this means she might be ready to communicate again but I'll probably have to wait until we see eachother at the club which makes me sad. But, I'm trying not to dwell or overthink it and just accept that she likes that I'm sober.


Last night my sister informed me that a guy I knew growing up died a couple of months back and they were going to a bar to have a celebration of life. She kind of sprung the whole death thing on me sideways. I asked, is a celebration of life like a birthday but without using the word birth because it triggers Joey?

I wish. He passed away a few months ago. It's like a funeral without saying funeral. It will be fun though. No crying. We all did that crying already. Well [his best and longest friend growing up] might cry. He's our sentimental one. I love that about him. I'm sorry for the lack of tact in how you're getting this information btw.

Oh shit I had no idea

I know. I know. And not the most tactful way to find out. I'm sorry about that.

all good. what happened?

He had stopped taking his medication's for a little while, and then developed a really bad nosebleed and right heart failure. He ended up going into the hospital with a nosebleed and falling asleep. He has sleep apnea and aspirated from the nosebleed. He developed pneumonia, and eventually was put on a ventilator. We did everything we could for him. He was vented for about two weeks before [a mutual friend] had to make the decision for him to be at peace. Joe's brother doesn't live in Arizona and they're not close. It was really up to us to make all the decisions. It was hard. I'm sure he's at peace now. He and I weren't very close to last 10 years. I would only see him once or twice a year at parties. It was always nice to see him and give him a hard time. He was Joey. Same person he's always been. Nice guy with a big heart and a great sense of humor, but shitty at taking care of himself. I can assure you that he was comfortable when he passed. If there's anything that I can be proud of in all of that, it was making sure that he didn't suffer.

//

A few stories I should write out as a tribute to Joey (since I won't be pouring one out since I've been sober for twenty-one days):

Meeting Joey on the stairs at Lemon Terrace Apartments in Tempe. He was wearing a black cowboy hat, white jeans and button down shirt, and cowboy boots. He also had a black harness crossing his three hundred plus pound body and a long barrel Colt Anaconda strapped under his wet armpit. He was breathing heavily, had terrible breath from smoking generic light cigarettes in a blue and white pack, and on account of his not owning a toothbrush, his tiny teeth wrapped in blankets of plaque.

The night Joey threatened JD and was nearly cut to pieces in the parking lot of Lemon Terrace. This was also the night that we all decided to pay to take Jeet Kune Do lessons with JD and try to get caught up with him.

At a convention when a drunken Joey and JD were going to have sex with two drunk women and I woke up from a marijuana coma thanks to my ex brother-in-law that afternoon. They said she looked good if you see her from a certain angle. I walked around her and they asked, what are you doing?

I'm looking for the angle.

We used to get in his old Pontiac Phoenix and drive around the desert shooting at things from the car. It wasn't the safest thing we could have done.

One afternoon he was driving and helping friends move, one sat in the bed of the truck to hold a mattress in place and the other in the passenger seat. A retiree in a giant Cadillac ran a red light and it threw the guy from the bed and crushed the girl in the passenger seat. The couple settled out of court for eighty thousand dollars and had lifelong pain. The two broke up because he was hanging out with skinheads and while he was at work at Blockbuster two of these guys came over and had a three-way with her. It was pretty scandalous and ensured he wouldn't try to keep winning her back after they broke up.

By my recollection Joey's father shot himself at least twice while cleaning a gun. And, his mother got shot at one point as well. He told me that that didn't happen, but that's not how I remember it. They lived in a house that felt like a trailer on the inside. It had those particle board panels that were meant to look like wooden walls. They had kind of a german vibe. Everyone slept in recliners because they couldn't lay down in bed, they would suffocate because they were all overweight.

His parents were nice, they took me to a Mexican restaurant where I ordered flautas but it was served as one big flauta with guacamole and a ton of shredded iceberg lettuce. It was anglicized. Just a step up from Taco Bell. I felt bad because I couldn't eat it and they were paying for it.

He drove me to work for what felt like a year. It was probably six months, before the company we worked for moved closer to Tempe and out of the Chandler area. That was when I was fighting every night so for lunch I would order a twelve pack of tacos. He also ate a box of snackwells and drank at least one two-liter bottle of Pepsi every day. I remember his best friend ribbing him about how he wouldn't lose weight because he was eating so much diet food.

The last time I saw him was at his best friend's home, before he and his wife sold it. They had a pool party and projected films on the side of the house. He spent most of his time at the front of the house and on the computer. We talked a little bit about World of Warcraft and I think he was playing the game during the entire party. He had lost weight and was looking better, I don't recall him chewing tobacco or smoking. I don't think he even drank. I hoped he was getting things together, he said he was enjoying driving a jeep.


I didn't get to learn Suicide is Painless yet because last night when I got home from whatever strange errands I was running during the day I discovered the Gothy Discord was putting on a listening party. There I discovered the band Soviet Soviet and the song Rainbow. So, I spent the night listening to that on auto-repeat and watching live versions, learning to play and sing along with it. I don't have all of it down yet but it is one of my favorite songs now. I just can't believe how good it is and how I didn't hear about it sooner.

They shared a lot of other great songs, here's a little playlist I put together before I had to go to bed [the songs in parenthesis are my contribution]:

Nosferatu – Close (original version)

Drab Majesty – Too Soon to Tell

This Ascension – Swandive

Kiss of the whip – Felt but not seen

Blue Smiley – Bird

Chants of Maldoror – Cruel with us

Lebanon Hanover – I Love You

[Drain the Doves – Rainflowers]

They Die – Everything that Burns

[Teardux – Xcess]

Pink Turns Blue – No More Reason (to call us alive)

VACÍOS CUERPOS – VACÍO ETERNO

Slowdive – Souvlaki Space Station [Shoegaze]

Airiel – In Your Room

Christian Death – She Never Woke Up

Vacíos Cuerpos – Hoy Solo Quiero Odiar

[One in a million – Eva O]

They Die – Passion of Lovers

Gangue Morcego -  A Dança Não Para (No Outro Lado Da Lua)

Altar De Fey – You Do Not Scare Me

[past self – Sewn Shut]

Rue Oberkampf – Caméra


I dreamed I was sitting in this bar that was on the edge of a house where you parked in the gravel, this was in Arizona, the wealthy Mormon part of town in north Mesa, next to Scottsdale. Perhaps it was southeast Scottsdale. In real life I attended a house party, we drank martinis made with gin and vermouth and I learned I can not stand martinis, they give me headaches.

So instead of this little booth in a converted garage next to a doorway leading to the backyard where there is probably a pool and a desert garden, there is a bar along that wall with glass beads and mirrors. It probably had a Mardi Gras vibe because I've been worried about how to dress goth but also incorporate that style for a party that is coming up.

I'm sitting at this bar and there's a requirement for the bands that they share an area they feel they need to improve. I'm looking at the list of bands and one has this big blank next to it. And, this is the band I came to see. I'm feeling a little embarrassed and worried they aren't going to show up. I ask the people seated left and right of me and they also express concern.

When the band arrives the host is like, what gives you didn't submit an area of improvement.

Oh, it was a joke. We were imitating Christian Death.

And in the dream I thought, oh yeah that's right, Rozz Williams famously said the band had no weaknesses, there was nothing left to improve upon.


February 16, 2024 there will be an event at Yonder called Disintegration: Love Will Tear Us Apart Edition. Nathan aka Twentieth Century Boy will be spinning records again. I am excited to go and wonder if Emma, Ethan, and Eve will make it. I found out about it through Code, he was talking about it at Boxcar Bar and Arcade. This time we will sit near the front door so that we can interact and be closer to more people.


I heard from Streptocarpus. She's excited for me to ship her the things I don't want, old cool shit, as she puts it. I have a box ready. She says she wears a size eight in men's shoes so I'm going to send her my old twenty hole Doc Martens. She took time off from studying last night to go to a concert and I'm excited to find out how that went but I'm not sure I'll hear from her again. At least not until I've gotten her address and shipped off these boxes.


My romance scammer didn't send me a message all weekend so I think we can put a nail in that one. It was exciting while it lasted. I have better things to do with my evenings though.

So to recap, the positive things the scammer has done for me included suggesting I get a scale and calling my roommate to make sure she's moving out before March.


The second car does not defrost the window. It was twenty out when I drove to work and the ice was still on the car when I arrived. I am not happy with the Ford dealership. On the plus side, the carbon monoxide alarm has not gone off and I have been feeling great.