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Saturday, March 1, 2003

Jay got out of prison for the weekend and hugging him, embracing him for the first time in a month or two, I almost cried.

MOOD: quiethappyintrospective

BACKGROUND: Digger "Monte Carlo"

When I first came to Sacramento a little over a year ago, when I first met her, it was the three of them. Collyne, the Big HIM, and Jay. Three of them. Best of friends. Right from the very beginning it was the lovebirds and their tall, rugged, scary looking friend Jay.

I remember when I first met them, the three of them. That night, I was at the bar drinking like a crazy man. It was back when I was Mr. Skinny Heavy Drinking Man and I didn't know shit from Sacramento except for my job and my house and this crappy little bar that my older brother Joe always took me to, a little dump with cheap beer and kareoke and one of the only smoking bars left in California. I still loved Deb but she was in Arizona and I was here and I knew deep down inside, subconsciously, that things were ending, that I was at the end of the road.

So I got up on the mic and sang a rocked out, screaming death metal, Limp Bizkit version of "Hit Me, Baby, One More Time." Just out of nowhere. It was one of those songs that I always joked that I would sing one day. So I did it. And by the end of the song half the bar was buying me drinks and the other half wanted to kick my ass.

It evolved into a song that I became known for. People would come in and ask me to sing it. They still do. People would see me aat work or at the mall and call me Britney. Word got around. Next thing you know, one drunk night talking with a reporter got me an article in a local zine about my church and me singing Britney Spears. When Papa Roach came to the bar, they came up to me and actually told me that they heard that I do a mean Britney, so I sang it for them and they digged it. I rarely sing it anymore. it doesn't have the same kick when I'm sober.

But it was that first night, first time singing it, when they came up to me. The Big HIM, Collyne, and Jay. Said how much they loved it, said how cool I was, and that they just wanted to hang out with me. Then the Big HIM started waxing the holy trilogy with my bother. I bet now that if he hadn't have been talking Star Wars that Joe or I wouldn't have given a shit about them.

Honestly, I fell for her bad when I first saw her. Short girl, like five-foot-one. I have a thing for short, sprite looking women. And so cute, so nice, so beautiful, but open and honest and with a wild streak inside her soul. And, now that all this is gone and done and past I can say, honestly, I saw my ex in her.

I didn't even know that her and the Big HIM were married. That's where the problems began, me being cute, funny, charming Steve, hitting on her, trying my lousy Latino Heat moves like I was back in high school. But when the shoe finally dropped and Deb, my fiance at the time, finally broke things off with me, I was sad and distraught and my usual want to committ suicide but knowing I won't because I'm too much of a pussy sort of thing.

And every free moment I had, they would be there, hanging out with me, picking me up, taking me out. I really got to know them. Especially Jay. He wasn't the big, scary, intimidating guy I first thought he was. He was a kind, gentle, shy guy with problems and a really deep loyalty to people in his family and eventually I became a part of that familyve the fourteen/sixteen hour trip from Sacramento to Phoenix to help me get the rest of my shit from the break-up. He became the guy I could call and hang out with and cry to.

Most importantly, as Col and me decided that things weren't going well between her and the Big HIM and that we liked each other and wanted to try to pursue a relationship together, he was there. He was the go-between and he was the bodyguard and he was the protector for both me and her, helping her out as well as being there for me. When the Big HIM found out and freaked out, I went into hiding. I was so scared that I kept calling in sick from work, going to cold, dark, hidden bars I've never been to before that they wouldn't find me at. And I think I was trying to drink myself to death or at best trying to drink myself into a state where I didn't have to think about how in love I was and how much my life was at risk from the Big HIM's violent temper.

I wrote all this at the beginning of this blog but the change of the new year erased all that. So this is a lot like a flashback, or clip show, from a bad sitcom.

My brother knew about all this and sided with the Big HIM. There was even talk that even he might beat the shit out of me. Even my mother, my own fucking mother, knew. You could see in her eyes how scared and dissapointed she was every time she looked at me. The only person I felt comfortable talking to was Jay. He met me at the mall and gave me more money so that I could drink some more. That meant a lot to me.

The second time, actually, more like the fourth of fifth time, that Col and I decided that we wanted to try this all again, I was hesitant but she had just gotten divorced from HIM and was living with a friend and trying to get into school and turning her life around and she still loved me and I still loved her and she was starting a new life and wanted me to be a part of that. So we got back together. That's really where the new year started and this new blog came about. Going to concerts, spending nights together. Having fun. Being together.

But Jay had gone AWOL from the Navy and they came around looking for him. So they took him and put him in a prison in San Diego and shortly after that she stopped calling me and started talking to the Big HIM again. And now, a month or two later, I'm single and they're married again. And she e-mails me saying that she can't have me in her life anymore. And I don't feel too sad, either. Not crying or being overly moody sad. Just lonely. Just missing having someone there. Miss being that special goober in someone's heart.

Got out of work late. Decided to meet Joe at the bar (still sober - day 91, I think). And when I was walking up to the mic to sing "Wicked Games" I saw Jay, standing right in front of me, tall, menacing, trying not to cry. We hugged and talked. I smoked up a storm. Crazy. Stone Cold Steve Austin is back and now Jay was back. It was like everything was right in the world.

He's only here for the weekend, though, and then he has to get back to his base. He'll be out in two weeks though, back for good. We talked, reminisced about the good times. And then, eventually, I had to ask about the lovebirds. He got mad, angry, upset. Said how pissed off he was that things happened the way they did and that Col had gone back with the Big HIM again after all the drama and the sacrifices. Said how he had now completely lost all her trust and that he just felt like slapping her across the face for all he had put her through, put US through.

That's when I tried to detach myself from the group, sit in the back with some old friends and smoke.

Hearing him say it, I realized how final this all was now. How over it all was now. And also mixed in was all this guilt at how upset he was, not that I felt bad that he had gone through all that, but instead I felt guilty for not feeling what he was feeling. He felt hurt, upset, betrayed, offended that he had his heart and trust broken by this woman. Hearing him say "You know how I feel, right?" and me not being able to say that because I didn't feel that way at all anymore.

I just feel like moving on. Moving on with my life. I'm not angry or hurt or betrayed. I'm positive. I'm happy. I just want to move on from here, use this as a stepping stone and finally get back to what I've been put here for, use all this talent inside me to create something special, something the whole world can see.

It's great to have Jay back. Shit, it's great to have Stone Cold Steve Austin back. But, and this is going to paint me as such a fucking nerd, but like Stone Cold and his persona problems with his wife and the law and with drinking, he's just chalking it up to life experienced and trying to get back to his life, to entertaining, to being himself. And that's me.

Stone Cold Latino Loser. That's me.

I have to go to sleep now, not to fall asleep, but to be able to wake up.

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