"What a Day it Has Been"

Last night a dear friend of mine and singer that I play with chose self-euthanasia. She's had MS and it finally reared it's ugly head and given that she chose to end her life, which I can understand.

Her body is being sent back to her family in Russia for burial but we had our own small service and wake this morning. I was asked to give the eulogy which was 9 kinds of awkward and rushed but it wasn't like I could say no. Then we had the wake...

I was the most reserved one there (big surprise ne?) given that I fully support euthanasia and I could understand this for what it was. Everyone else was just confused, hurt and angry and my relative lack of emotion made me well, a target I guess. Everyone was getting plastered or stoned at the wake so I only stayed for a few hours or so, we played a few songs to send her off and then I left...

I get home and then I feel like I'm walking out of "The Would Be Gentleman." Jill got drunk and was wanting to fight....so of course I get called back there to try to calm her down...WTF?

Let's face it, dealing with emotional people is not my thing. She's drunker than I can ever recall being, runs up to me to start hammering her fists on my chest in that ever so cliché female way then hugs me and starts crying, then asks me to fuck her, then passes out...so I laid her on the couch and got the hell out of there.

I'm just really pissed off right now. They all seemed to think that because I wasn't running around crying my eyes out with my heart bleeding upon my sleeve that I was perfectly able to be a shoulder to cry on for them. Granted I know that I don't exactly have emotions like most people do but I still have them.

And in an irony of timing this really relates to the squabble Katie and I had yesterday afternoon where she was criticizing me for "never letting anyone into my life" and while that is for the most part true there is a reason for that...most people I've met throughout my life are walking wastes of nucleotides that should have been drowned at birth or scandalous momzers that I can't depend on and are thusly ignored. Granted, this has a downside as the only person that I probably would talk to is off getting some old, embarrassing ink altered but quite frankly I'll deal.
Will it be in the most healthy way? Probably not, but that's just who I am and I'm really starting to get sick of people thinking that I'm broken and need fixing.

Yes, I am cynical. Yes, there have been some things in my life that I will probably never get over. But I still get out of bed each morning and face life with all the shit that it entails and I have no plans on using a revolver to reorganize my cranium so I'll just sum it up with this:

If you want to talk with me, that's fine, call...If you want to burden me with your opinions of how fucked up I am...sod off and keep them to yourself...