December 1, 2009
I'm starting to type up old journal entries. The world is getting crazier for me, especially in 2010. The red dots are taking over, and I am having a difficult time distinguishing this world from the next. In fact, it sometimes seems that there are many different worlds and the red dots are portals to other places. But I am getting ahead of myself. I must try and put this in chronological order.
This entry was written in my journal on December 1, 2009.
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I went to a holiday party last night. It had a large Christmas tree, an abundance of sushi, and a chocolate fountain with a variety of treats for your dipping pleasure. It ended horribly. It was a complete misunderstanding. Yes, I am the one who cause it, but I swear it was the dots that made me do it. (God do I sound crazier than ever.)
The party was at Ann's in Oakland. She has it every year, and I have attended a few. Mostly it's people I can't stand, but I go for her. We always end up in her back yard sneaking puffs of joints and a couple of lines. I'm her one friend (can I really be called a friend now?) that knows she still does drugs. Maybe I'm her only friend that does them, but I don't believe that. Most people are closet druggies. I gave up caring years ago.
So...red dots. I saw one last night. It was on, or more precisely it was, a ceramic globe ornament. I had to have it. Ann thought differently.
I didn't notice it right away, but once I did I couldn't ignore it no matter how much I tried. It was on the front of the Christmas tree up near the star. It was the lone red ball among many silver and green ornaments. I wouldn't have seen it, but another guest pointed it out. She loved how whiny it was. I recognized it as a red dot because of the same tiny fibers rising from its surface.
I reached out and touched it and felt the cool ceramic underneath my fingertips. I knew I had to somehow take this ornament home. It was electric.
I meandered the party a little more trying to engage in some sort of interesting conversation, but mostly stuck on conversations about teaching and education. As I never went to college, let alone barely graduated high school (thank god for summer school badminton class) and hated almost every single teacher that ever tried to teach me something, I had very little to contribute other than, "Yeah" and "Uh Huh" and, this one is my favorite, "Wow! That is interesting." Teachers never notice when you're not really paying attention as long as you acknowledge them every once in a while. The same goes for conversations outside of the classroom.
Soon enough, I was back in their living room sitting between the fireplace and the tree string at it like a psycho watched their prey from the shadows. The woman who pointed the red ornament out - I think her name was Dorothy or Dottie but should have been Ditzy - was sitting across from me.
"I love Christmas. It's my favorite time of the year: the music, the presents, the chocolate, the decorations, the wrapping paper. I love it all. I especially love the sales. Don't you just love this time of year? I get all giddy."
She kept rambling on in her high pitched squeal pretending that I was actually paying attention.
"I love Santa Claus. I took my niece to get her picture taken with him at the Westfield mall last weekend. It cost $40 for this small picture. At first, I thought it was expensive, but it is Christmas, so you just overlook how pricey it is and pay it anyway. I kept one picture and gave the other to my niece. She's eight and still believes in Santa. Isn't that just so cute? I mean really it's adorable, right? I have the picture in my wallet. Do you want to see it? I'm sure you do. No one dislikes Christmas parties, especially if you go to a holiday party."
She pulled the picture out of her oversized wallet that was in an oversized purse that was the same color of that tacky metallic green wrapping paper you find at Wallgreens, and she handed it to me. I didn't even look at it and said, "Boy, she's cute. Great picture." And I handed it back.
"I know! Don't you love her Christmas tree and candy cane tights?" And she just kept on talking.
I was ready to get up and move seats when a friend of hers asked her if she wanted another cocktail. She said sure, but that "only I can make the drink I like. Really it's not a comment on you. I'm just picky." And she got up and went into the kitchen with her friend.
I thought this was as good of a time as any to grab the ornament and throw it into my shirt pocket. It wasn't that large, and my shirt was bulky. I looked around the room to make sure no one was looking and then snatched it off the tree. As I was about to put it in my pocket, Ann entered the living room and saw what I was doing.
"What the hell!" She screamed at me. Everyone turned to look.
My face turned the color of the the ornament in my hand. "Oh...this. God. Sorry. I just wanted to see it. It's a beautiful color. I must've mindlessly been putting it in my pocket rather than on the tree," I replied lying. "Really sorry." And I started to put it back on the tree. Something, however, stopped me. It was like someone clutched my wrist and prevented me from putting it on the tree.
"Martin," she said, "I'm sure it's not a coincidence that you're about to take the most expensive ornament on the tree."
"Really? It's this one? It's so small. I just like the color. I swear."
"Come on, Martin. This isn't the first time you've stolen something from me."
All the guests started shifting in their seats. A couple who was near the front window got up and headed back to the kitchen.
"Ann. PLease. Not here and not right now. It was a mistake. See. I'm putting it back on the tree," and I went to put the ornament back near the star when my hand stopped again. It just wouldn't let me put it back, and I knew immediately the situation was about to get worse.
"You're a horrible liar, Martin. I don't want to listen to any of your excuses. Remember the last time this happened?"
I was hoping she wouldn't actually say what happened out loud. She was definitely way more forgiving than she needed to be.
I had stolen her mother's heirloom ring and sold it to a pawn shop so I could get some money for speed. The agreement we reached was I had to buy the ring back and if it ever happened again our friendship would be permanently over. I got the ring back and all was good. I knew this looked absolutely awful and unforgiveable.
"I'm sorry, Ann. I really am. This really isn't what it looks like. I can explain. Just not right now in front of everyone." I was begging by this point, and everyone that was in the front room had moved to the back room.
"So...I was just thinking to myself, 'This is going to be a GREAT Christmas since my parents will be visiting from Iowa, and my niece will get to spend it with her grandparents' when I remembered..." Ditzy was still rambling on when she came back into the living room and saw Ann ripping the ornament from my hand.
"Oh. My. God! What is going on here?" Her loud proclamation distracted both Ann and me and in that brief moment the ornament crumbled into hundreds of tiny pieces.
"Get out!" Screamed Ann. "Get the fuck out of my house! Get out now!!"
"Ann..." I said quietly.
"I don't want to hear it! Get the fuck out!"
I quickly got up and grabbed my coat off the coat rack. I looked at the broken pieces on the ground. Ann was staring at me, her face the color of a setting sun. "Get out now! Get out! Get out! Get out!!!"
I left. I heard her crying as I closed the door.
I walked the few blocks to BART and hopped on the train back to San Francisco. As I was sitting there reflecting on everything that happened and trying to figure out how I could apologize to Ann, I realized that our friendship was irrevocably over. I was sad.
I went drinking when I got back to The City trying to forget the fight and the red dot. The drinking helped. I forgot for about two hours, and then something unexpected happened. As I was getting ready for bed, a small perfectly circular piece of the ornament fell out of my shirt pocket. Somehow, amidst the struggle, a piece of it found its way back to my apartment. This couldn't have just been a coincidence, so I put it among my collection. Then, I passed out on the bed.
I woke up this morning with a horrible hangover (Thank god I have today off.) and an urgent need to write down my story. So...here i am. Story told. Head pounding.
I'm thinking I may start putting some of this online. Well...at least the parts related to the red dots. Who knows? Maybe someone else sees them too. All I know is I am seeming crazier and crazier every day, and I have to do something to find the connections between these things in order to gain a little sanity. Maybe someone out there can find that connection before I can.
Yup...I'm going to put this online. If you're out there and reading this, do you have any insights? Please help! I can't do this on my own.
P.s. Still haven't visited uncle.
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There you have it. I am putting all this online. It really is taking a lot longer than I thought. I HATE typing more than anything. Hence, the "I write everything by hand first".
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