WE – DO NOT AGREE!

I want to move to the middle of nowhere.  Where no one knows me.  I want to live where there are not neighbors in my windows.

I want to be able to wear make-up, wear pretty dresses, and cute clothes.  I want to smell nice again.  I want to wear perfume, put dry oil on my legs, so you can see the shape of my calves.

I want to be able to style my hair again.  I want manicured nails, painted pedicured toes.

I want to lavish in a warm bath filled with salts to soothe my tired muscles while fragranced soap fills the air.  Scented candles all around to set the mood while drinking a beautiful wine.

I want clean pajamas to wear freshly ironed.  I want a bed with sheets that have been starched smelling of outdoor air and a hint of scent.

I want to spend time with a book in bed before I fall into a heavenly sleep.

In 2013, I spent Thanksgiving with Jared Leto.  True story.  I couldn’t make this stuff up.  I don’t know how much time I spent drinking and talking with Jared Leto, but it is true.  He was in disguise, as a friend of the person’s house who I was eating Turkey dinner at.  She was a person I worked with.  Yet, sure enough it was Jared Leto.

His name was Tony when I met him.  Silly me, I went on to gush to my co-worker about how much I loved talking and spending time with Tony.  Tony was at the Thanksgiving dinner with his husband/partner, but there was something marked about him.

It was a pleasure spending time with Tony.  Talking, drinking, just hanging out til all hours – I was there a long time.

I didn’t and don’t like this place I live in.  It is still not my home after going on six years now.  I have less furniture, belongings, or cozy home furnishings now than when I moved in.  A home should surround you with warmth.  It should be private.  It should be a place of rest and relaxation.

Happy Thanksgiving JL.

If you’ve heard differently before, you were misinformed.  Or, more correctly I was mislead and misdirected into giving a false name when I had my oil changed at Midas.  I have no idea why someone would want me to give a false name, however at the time I did what I was told because I believed it to be important.

Why anyone in the world would want me to be anything other than myself can only be a reflection upon the poor character of the other person.  To not allow someone to be the greatest version of themselves is a sin, a crying shame, a disgrace, and shallow.

My parents named me Cherith after the brook in the bible.  In the King James version 1Kings 17:3 …Elijah sat by the brook Cherith and the ravens fed him.  See King Ahab was set to destroy all the prophets.  Elijah believed he was the last prophet left – cutting the story short because you can read the bible yourself – God provided a safe place for Elijah to be hidden from the King.

It is significant in the story for ravens to feed Elijah.  For so many reasons it could be a topic of much debate, speculation, and introspection.  Perhaps for another time – way down the line, I might write about that.

My name is a geographical location, it is historical, it is an event.  My name means deep ravine by its definition.  It is water.  Also, by the nature of the story my name is a safe place to hide and to be protected from.

Eventually the brook dried up and Elijah moved from the brook Cherith, and found a poor widow and asked for bread.  The widow explained to Elijah how she only had enough provisions for one more loaf – it was the very last bit of food she had left.  Elijah said make the bread and you will still have oil and flour.  The widow did not believe Elijah, yet she made the bread anyway.

She still had flour and oil in her jar.

So, back to Cherith, me.

My parents named me Cherith, in the hospital, after reading it in the bible.  They probably believed they had stumbled unto a unique name, however days after naming me my father found a missionary tract.  On the back was a blurb about the missionary Cherith Til who happened to be a missionary in South Africa which is where my father was born and raised until the age of sixteen when he went to school in Chicago.

The connection – to me – is significant.  Impossibly interwoven is how I see it.

Also, let me share this – my brother and I have the exact same initials.  My brother’s name in a town in Northern Ireland.  His name is also a geographical location.  My maternal great grandparents were from Ireland until they emigrated to Canada.

I love Ireland.  One day I am going to live there – at least for a while.

I loved my grandfather, he was the greatest male role model I had.  My grandfather had the Irish charisma and charm.  He could do anything.  He owned a barbershop, a pool hall, he had a pilot’s license, he drove a taxi, he drove a bus for disabled children.  He never failed to greet me with a smile.  As a child, he would pick me up and take his teeth out because it made me laugh.

I have found that Cherith – the name – has been used to name churches, camps, and people.

Hi, nice to meet you.

That was you, David sitting on your motorcycle across the street from my house as I was driving away – looking pretty fly – going to a NYE party.  Dressed as an old man that I met at a party, sitting together talking about politics the old man asked me to lunch.  I declined because he was an old man and I did not want to lead him on.  In the photo of me, Rachel, and Logan I took one of the best pictures ever, sticking my tongue out because its fun, funny, playful, and cute.  In the background dressed up as an old man David stuck his head in the picture.

You no linger have that influence over me making me glow by your presence – David K. Wolfe.

I was just about to write I hate having to “report” my life and goings on, but I dislike using the word hate – it’s cheap and common in writing.  However, time – my time, more importantly – being what it is cannot afford at this moment to write the way I would normally if I had a private brain, private home, and private surroundings.

My mom kept it, Dave.  How many years later was it? 10. 11. 12 or more years later she kept the bear.  She had packed it away because we – my mom and I –  were going to move away.  We were going to leave my father.  My father – whom I speak very little of and write even less of is a story for another time.  We were going to move back to California to start a new life.

Do you remember Halloween, David?  I am sure you do.  Halloween hanging out at Alisha’s house, way out in the woods drinking the night away.  I had fun.  I had fun with you.  I don’t remember you ever making me laugh, but I remember having fun with you all night and I didn’t want to go home when the sun came up.

We all decided, as a group to go out for breakfast.  I am going to cut this short because I do not have time to story-tell, or make this an interesting read at all.  You cut me down.  In an instant you took the entire night I had spent with you laughing, and made fun of me in such a way as to make me feel worthless in your eyes.  Like you snapped your fingers, and poof – you cut the connection.

I steeled myself on the drive to Denny’s – not wanting to appear as though you effected me at all I was still going to continue with the plan, but I was not going to let you in my heart anymore.  I walked up to Denny’s and you were playing with that stupid game.  *Cutting it short*  You handed me the Halloween teddy bear that had bats on its feet.  I couldn’t let you hurt me again because surely it was a trick – after what you said to me.  I didn’t take the bear.  However, several days after it was backstage at the theater, and I allowed myself to believe that you may have been trying to make up for hurting me so.  I took the bear home.

When I unpacked it all those years later, I took a photo of it sitting in a wooden chair and I used a purple filter on it and posted the picture.  I was just trying to let you know I still remembered.

I remember the date with “Gerry” at Bahama Breeze on Halloween night.  He got there before me and ordered me a water which was sitting at the table when we sat down.  I panicked, I started freaking out because I had never met this man before, and having some previous experience with being drugged, date rape drugged, I quickly ordered an alcoholic drink.  I couldn’t think of anything else to order at the time, and probably I was thinking – alcohol is an antiseptic.

Why didn’t you allow me to date men for real.  I am so lonesome.  I bleed pain and unhappiness every day living this way.

And no, I will not wash my hair simply because someone told me to, you should suffer having to look at me in this way!  It is a reflection upon you, your management, and your treatment of me.

I am not going to the DMV again and have my license changed – again – because of YOUR mistake.  David Wolfe, you and James Franco are most assuredly both married or as good as married it is a shame on you both for string me along in such a manner!  How dare you hurt me so!

No, I will NOT clean my floor because you placed dirty paw prints on my floor!  Yes, I saw Benedict Cumberbatch on the television while I was at a bar in New Orleans.  No, I will not wear my New Orleans shirt because of it.

I want privacy on my doors!  No one should be allowed to enter my home or premises – AT ALL!

You pay me too little!  You work me too hard!  The rate is too high!  I want to move on!  I want to have a life!  I want a real man in my life who loves me!  I do not want any ghosts anymore or ever in my home!

You know nothing of art!  That is a subject for another time!

I never want to see you, David Wolfe or James Franco ever again!  All these years that you have LIED TO ME!

Just a blurb – I wanted to go to World Of Coke in Atlanta, again – however, I was not allowed to go.

This is something I wrote several months ago.  I am still working on this, I am working on whether or not this still applies to me.  I will be writing about Twilight in the near future, so I will respond to that point when I get to write it.  However, men and happy endings, romance, fairy-tale bliss has never been a reality for me, or what has happened in my life.  Every woman deserves to be the leading lady in her own life, and not someone left, or shared, or cast aside alone in a bubble.  Yet God help me, I will love men until the day I die, and perhaps even after that.

It occurred to me today the reason I was always Team Jacob when reading the Twilight books before has to do with my own relationships and romantic life.

I have never experienced a happy ending with any of the men I’ve dated, slept with, or almost married.

I have never been the girl the man sweeps off her feet or has her dreams come true.  So, how could I have ever related to the character Bella when I’ve never experienced that for myself?

Don’t get me wrong I have always enjoyed the Bella and Edward story I just never felt how that story line could ever apply to me – such fantasy.

Hard to imagine being a woman and not even allowing yourself the fantasy of being loved by a man who would love you in return for the rest of your life.  Yet, I am understanding – I guess my whole life I’ve never envisioned that there would be a man who would want to be with me for the rest of my life.

I’ve never visualized that future – ever.

Perhaps because there are so few men that I’ve met that can hold me and hold my attention.  It’s not a sex thing or being friends with men it has to do with that thing that indescribable quality that draws me in.

Really it should be rare to find that quality.

But, I should be visualizing a future where I can share and spend it with a man who is worthy and who is good and kind to me.

Or, maybe it isn’t important.

It does seem impossible for me, or maybe that is how I protect myself believing that fantasy and happy ending can happen for others but not for myself.

Everyone deserves a happy ending but me.  What’s wrong with that picture?  What’s wrong with me?  Besides the million and one crazy things that happen around me these past, how many years is it now?

Oh well.

Time to go to sleep.

I’ll try and work on the visualizing.

Who could really blame me given these last few years that have been done to me

Go to hell Adrian Grenier!

Did you stop to think about what it would be like to have to live this way?  It doesn’t matter to you because you are not living this way.

Go to hell for making me gain weight for no reason.

Go to hell for giving me germs and diseases.

Go to hell for making me feel shamed and bad when I did not buy a $40 Acapulco t-shirt when I was out of a job and did not even have $40 to my name.

Go to hell for assaulting my character so badly I felt I had to donate my possessions in order to purge myself.

I most certainly enjoyed making you laugh and laughing with you at The Container Store, however that does not give you the right to violate a woman’s vagina.

Go to hell Green.  Any happy and worthwhile memories I had with you ended at The Container Store.

When once you were my source of help – has changed.  You have left me to feel afraid, insecure, unstable, uncertain, and unable to take care of myself.  You cause me panic, self-doubt, and stress for no cause.

I had to mention it here, for it should be known of my great unhappiness.