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Scared as a stupid punk, she waffled endlessly about leaving the house and going to the historic flea market. She even used the coin to flip to decide in or out. She ended up going and will go tomorrow. It's very useful for her to get out of the house. It's like exposure therapy.
The town still doesn't attract her and confuses her though. She hasn't found "her spot" nor does she enjoy driving anywhere. It took months to find "her spot" in Oakland - her local. It was The Dinner House. Next month will mark the year anniversary of her discovering the place. Prior to that, she wandered without anyone that knew her name. She certainly didn't have much Cheer. Waking up today, she realized she was still in her shamecave. It still hurt her to imagine being liked. Could she be liked?
The things she bought:
handkerchiefs
napkins
bread basket
muffin tin
Tupperware
bowls
a side table.
compact disks for the beater car
What did she need? everything but whatever.
She wanted to be able to recommend and guide her friend Lisa to the town, yet who knows... Hopefully, she will decide to not come and all bets were off.
She found the place to pick up dorky white 20-something men as she was the only female in the joint. She also heard a foreign language and saw a convention in the town (they were wearing tags).
And the television. For about a year, she tried this morning to see if she could find a place where she could add a television in her precariously-decorated home. It wasn't about the money although it could be. She just didn't want the hassle and the black mirror. In the olden days, she lived in one room and had the computer in that room. Now, things were definitely more spread apart.
Last night, she dreamt that someone loved her. She dreamt she was with the old familiar Wilmington gang and was reunited with Jill - who loved me again with an arm extended.
It felt great, and although it wasn't a rapturous saga - just the feeling of being acknowledged and part of it - that was wonderful.
She finally at at the brew pub she'd been wanting to try. She couldn't bring herself to order a brewski as it was not yet the fabled hour of noon, but whatever. It was brave of her to spend that $20 on the cheese curds she later gave to the homeless.... and there's a huge segregated homeless population too. She noticed that the whole town was a divide. She thought of going to Plains today to see the land of Jimmy Carter, but at 90 minutes, she decided it wasn't that fun.
The homeless lady who was walking down the street with the matter-o-fact dislocated knee was a bit of a heartbreaker, but she just sailed past her - looking for something to draw her in - something to feel like home. It was great to have tried the brew pub with the shitty cheese curds that tasted like snot because she could say "not here".
So far, the rookery wasn't bad, but the burger was meh at Burger King best.
And to romanticize the Oakland 'her spot'. She actually had that one and the Mexican place. And she was ever so glad she left although she still wasn't sure why.
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