lemonpulp's Open Salon Blog

Dante’s Purgatory – Commuter Edition

Thu, 24 May 2012 20:05:41 -0400

Several years ago, while firmly ensconced in the job from hell, I wrote an Office version of Dante’s Purgatory. What can I tell you. I read a lot and I needed an outlet for all my pent up frustrations before I became a news story. Fast-forward two years, and I’m in a different job and have escaped cubicle hell. Yes, I actually work from home. I believe it is my reward for previous suffering. One day a week, however, I have to venture out of the safety of my house and go to the office…150 miles away. For those of you doing the math, that’s 300 miles round-trip. On those days, I spend an average of 6 hours in the car driving from Sacramento to the Bay Area. As I sat in traffic Tuesday, wondering how long it was going to be before we all started moving again, I decided it was time to write a new version of Purgatory.

Dante’s purgatory consisted of two levels of “ante-purgatory,” then the seven levels of purgatory itself. Once one made it through the levels, they entered Paradise. Here are my nine levels of Purgatory: Commuter Edition.

Ante-Purgatory 1: No Signal, Self-Entitled Lane Changers

Nothing spoils a pleasant commute like someone almost running you off the road because THEY want to be in YOUR lane. You know the type. They rarely use a signal and tend to drift towards the lane, as if that is supposed to indicate they want to move. They don’t use their car mirrors at all, well, except to maybe check their hair. I deal with at least one of these drivers every commute. What has so far kept me from being a stamp on the back of their car? My Force-inspired mind-reading and quick reflexes. Frankly, only a Jedi can successfully avoid these assholes.

Ante-Purgatory 2: Crazy Tailgaters

Tailgaters are the bullies of the freeway. They have no problem speeding down the freeway at 80 mph with their front bumper 3 inches away from yours. They don’t care if you are trying to pass a caravan of slower cars. They want you out of the way. NOW. I used to think this was primarily a male issue, along the lines of also driving a really large vehicle to compensate for a lack of something below the waist. I’ve discovered though, that women can be just as bad. Perhaps they’re compensating for bad hair. Being a bit of a bitch, I tend to fuck with these types of drivers. Sometimes I’m even able to enlist other drivers to help me through cool Jedi mind tricks. Nothing pleases me more than to see this kind of driver boxed in with nowhere to go. After all, if we come across a CHP officer, I’m not the one who will get the ticket for unsafe driving or speeding.

Level 1: Neurotic Texters

We’ve all heard the studies about how texting while driving is dangerous. Several states have laws against it. But does that stop people? Hell no! 15 years ago, we didn’t have texting. We waited until we got home, picked up the phone, and had a non-distracted conversation with the person on the other end. Now, we seem to be a culture conditioned to text and talk wherever we are. Newsflash: the text can wait. So can the phone call. Just last week, I kept a wary eye on the woman driving behind me because I could see she was paying more attention to her phone than the space between our cars. Twice, she nearly hit me. I was relieved when she moved to a new lane, only to end up next to her, where she weaved in and out of the lane as she continued to focus on her fucking phone.

Level 2: Lane Zig-Zaggers

One of the most dangerous types of driver on the road is the zig-zagger. This is the person who firmly believes that if they cut in and out of lanes, they will magically get to their destination an hour earlier. They rarely use signals. They almost always drive too fast. Maybe if they had left the house a little earlier, they wouldn’t need to drive so recklessly. The end result: getting to the destination no faster than if they had just stayed in the same damn lane. When I come across them a few miles later, stuck behind a block of cars, I like to smile and wave…with my middle finger.

Level 3: Oops, There’s My Exit

Cousin to the Zig-Zaggers, these drivers have a knack for not planning ahead. They are happily driving along, oblivious to their surroundings (and probably texting), when they suddenly realize they need to exit. Oh shit! What do they do? They quickly cut across four lanes of traffic, nearly taking out several cars in the process, so they can get off the freeway. Yes, it would be safer to go up another exit and turn around. But that would take a few minutes out of their precious day. Nope. Can’t have that. They’d rather put the lives of everyone around them at risk just so they can say they made it on time.

Level 4: Fastlane Slowpokes

This kind of driver takes many forms and often results in other drivers committing acts previously mentioned. Sometimes a delivery truck takes up residence in this lane and goes along at a moderate 60 mph for reasons unknown to the rest of us. Sure, there are occasions when they are actually passing a slower vehicle. The problem is they don’t move back over where they belong. Other times, you get the assholes who feel entitled to using the lane because they are going the posted speed limit. Blame the speeders if you want, but it IS called the fast lane. If the cars around you are zipping by and there’s a long line of traffic behind you, you need to get the fuck out of the lane.

Level 5: Readers

The first time I came across one of these drivers, I was shocked. Reading? While driving? Are you crazy?! I guess I can understand looking at something if you’re stopped in traffic, but I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the drivers who are moving down the road with a book or newspaper open in front of them…on the steering wheel. This is just as bad as the texters. If you really want to get through your book that badly, get an audio version. Otherwise, it can wait until you’re home and your car is safely parked.

Level 6: Makeup Appliers

This is probably the only case where the offender is exclusively female. When I come across these women, several things go through my head: “What, you couldn’t have gotten up a little earlier to do that?” or “I hope that mascara wand sticks you in the eye.” I admit, the reaction is a bit on the bitchy side. But can you blame me? Is your makeup oh so important that it can’t wait until your car is no longer moving? And if it’s that important, I think you need to get your ass up earlier. I’m not talking about those who apply makeup while sitting at a signal. These are moving violators, driving 75 mph while they stick something near their eyes. One quick stop, they’re going to either be blinded or seriously injured. Tell me, is it really worth it?

Level 7: Tour Directors

I’ll admit to being guilty of this on a few occasions. You’re either driving somewhere new and looking at the scenery, or maybe pointing out an important place to someone else in the car. Now, the best way to do this is to take quick glances to the side, while maintaining the proper speed and lane locations. What you DON’T do is stop in the middle of the road with traffic behind you and give a short lecture on the importance of said landmark. I had one of these drivers in front of me just the other day. He stopped in the middle of an intersection with a green light to point to the buildings on the other side of the train tracks. The significance? I have no clue. Perhaps he was pointing to where the body was buried.

Home

You survived! You made it to the best destination of all. Familiar surroundings. Family and pets. Alcohol. The best part? No more driving with all these previously mentioned commuting sinners. Enjoy the safety of your home until you have to venture out onto the road again.

Afterword:

“But wait, oh wise and virtuous author!” you say. “Don’t all these sinners have some sort of punishment? After all, Dante had punishment in HIS purgatory.”

Well, I’ve thought long and hard about how to dole out punishment in this purgatory. All the residents are certainly deserving of it. But isn’t having to commute every day punishment enough? No, you say? Fine. I can understand why you think they deserve harsher sentences. In addition to spending eternity commuting, each time one of these wretched souls commits any of the aforementioned sins, he or she will be zapped with a taser. And just to ensure they are REALLY miserable, they have to listen to the Barney theme song on repeat. I think that alone would scare any commute sinner into an absolute angel.

Torn

Sun, 13 May 2012 21:05:17 -0400

As Gabrielle started to wake, flashes of her dreams came back to her. Images of what her brain had tried to process overnight. She couldn’t make out everything. A face. A landscape. If the dreams had been particularly interesting, she could remember them more clearly. The vague ones, however, were the ones that nagged at her. They left her with a feeling that something was unresolved. Wasn’t something always unresolved though? They’d haunt her throughout the day. She could never escape the feeling that they were chasing her, trying to force her to deal with something she didn’t want to deal with. At that moment in her life, there was a lot she didn’t want to face.

Lately, the nagging had become constant. She couldn’t shake it. She couldn’t distract herself from it. It just got louder and louder. She was tired. She was snapping over things that normally wouldn’t bother her. She had little patience. The worst part though was the feeling of complete and total loneliness. Yes, she had friends and family who loved her. It wasn’t the same. She missed the daily interactions that went along with having a companion. Gabrielle missed waking up next to someone.

It wasn’t just the loneliness that was getting to her. Her mother’s health continued to decline and showed no signs of ever improving. She had watched her mother give up mentally long before the physical decline took place. Was it because she had lost her sister? Was it because the lives of her children hadn’t turned out the way she had hoped? More than likely, the answer would never be known. It almost didn’t matter. The end result was a once strong woman had given up on life and was determined to live her remaining days playing the victim and feeling sorry for herself.

Watching her parents struggle was what tired her the most. The anger and resentment towards her mother bubbled just beneath her chest, threatening to force its way out. The frustration she felt with her dad’s denial of the situation made her crazy. Some days, the guilt of feeling all of it was crippling.

The whole situation reminded her of the years she spent with her ex. She knew all too well how easy it was to enable the bad behavior of another because it was the path of least resistance. She knew how easy it could be for the head to overpower the heart when the heart knew a difficult decision needed to be made. She had spent years letting her head control everything and denying the truth she knew in her heart.

She couldn’t understand how her mother could give up so easily when she was surrounded by people who loved her. But apparently, none of them mattered enough for her to even try. That is what hurt the most. That is what she just couldn’t understand, no matter how hard she tried. How do you let the loss of one person, no matter how much you loved them or how important they were to you, cripple you to the point that all the other love you have around you doesn’t matter? Does she even realize how insulting and hurtful her behavior is? Does she care?

The possibility of becoming just like her mother, of giving up because life didn’t go the way she wanted, gnawed at her as she tried to go about her days. Gabrielle had seen signs of it already. Depression that set in when she felt unseen, unheard, and just generally ignored. Feeling like the world was against her if the smallest of mundane things went wrong. She didn’t want to follow those footsteps, but it would take a lot of work to stay off that path.

If her current relationship with Lucy didn’t work out, how would she react? It had been a struggle lately. She’d gotten a variation of the “it’s not you..it’s me” speech but knew it was just a front. The truth was much more complicated, much more personal. Lately, her head had been telling her it was time to give up. She’d tried her best. They were both stubborn as hell. Lucy was convinced she just couldn’t love anyone and that Gabrielle should move on. Gabrielle was convinced Lucy’s heart would recover if she didn’t give into the fear and vulnerability that came with loving someone.

A few times, Gabrielle had gone out, thinking she might meet someone. She’d looked at the online dating sites. Every time, though, her heart told her it was wrong. Her body reacted to these activities with nausea. No matter how much her head tried to convince her it was time, her heart and body rebelled. It wasn’t time. She knew that. Gabrielle’s head had convinced her to stay with her ex three years too many when her heart was screaming at her to end it and run. She didn’t listen to her heart. That’s why Gabrielle knew now to ignore her head. Her heart and body wouldn’t be reacting this way if she were making the right decision.

These were all the things haunting her dreams and her thoughts. She was exhausted by it all. So much so that her body was starting to manifest her emotional pain. She just didn’t know what to do anymore. So much of it was out of her control. She felt paralyzed by the uncertainty in her life. There really was no rest from it. There was nobody to share it with. Gabrielle was tired of all the conflict and longed for someone to rest her head on.

Spent

Mon, 7 May 2012 21:05:32 -0400

the human spirit and body can only take so much before it feels broken beaten defeated resigned tired of doing everything alone working living maintaining a life that still feels incomplete with a heart longing to be put back together but she won’t do it time for others but seemingly no time for me when i need it most because engaging requires feeling and feeling is too painful but i keep trying and pushing and hoping for a change wanting one special person to turn to when I’m in need and finding my arms wrapping around air needing an ear to cry into when I’m frustrated and angry and resentful of the denial my parents live in wanting lips to touch my forehead and tell me we’ll get through it all but there is nothing and my pathetic pleas go unanswered and my words seem to disappear into the air either unheard or ignored because the truth is too scary and loving is too scary and being vulnerable is too scary but living alone is a far worse fate when there is another heart out there beating in time to your own and at the end of the day the body is tired and the spirit is spent and there isn’t a single fucking thing to show for it

Musical Musings – That I Would Be Good

Wed, 2 May 2012 20:05:08 -0400

Alanis Morissette’s music has always appealed to me. First, it was the angst, anger-driven lyrics of rejected love that I could relate to. As I got older, and as Morissette got older, the music was relatable for all the emotion she packed into her lyrics. “That I Would Be Good” has become one of my favorites because no matter what stage of my life I’m in, it still applies. It applies to all of us.

We are our own worst enemies and critics. We can find every flaw possible, even when they might not exist. We punish ourselves for mistakes we made. We punish ourselves for events that we have no control over. We punish ourselves for the actions of others that hurt us, convincing ourselves that we somehow deserved it. We reject love, freely given, because we believe ourselves to be incapable of returning it. I’m probably guilty of all this a dozen times a day. Sometimes I can’t pull myself out of the pattern, no matter how hard I try. Sometimes, we need others to pull us up. That’s what friends and loved ones are for, right? To support us when we can’t support ourselves. To tell us we’re good, no matter what we think of ourselves. To love us, even when we feel we like our hearts are missing. The problem is that until we believe it ourselves, the words of others can’t cut through our own doubts.

Most of us cannot objectively look at our own lives, especially when life has beaten us down over and over again. You come to expect the disappointment. You come to expect the rejection and the abandonment. And when someone comes along to tell you they won’t abandon you and that you are wonderful, you often can’t believe them. They can say “I love you for who you are and you are an amazing person,” but unless you believe it about yourself, you will doubt their words.

We all have to believe that we are good, despite the demons in our heads or the mistakes that we make or the pits we fall into. We have to help those we love believe that they are good because none of us can do this living thing alone. We have to help those we love accept the love that is there for them. Love is too precious and rare to be rejected out of fear or guilt. When someone offers you their love and heart, you accept it as the gift that it is.

You are loved. You are wanted. You are good.

Unspoken

Tue, 1 May 2012 00:05:03 -0400

so many words we don’t say

acts of protection

acts of self-preservation

are they unsaid because we fear the words

or because we fear the vulnerability behind them

so much i want to say

i refrain

not wanting to scare you

not wanting to drive you away

so many words i want to hear

you refrain

scared of yourself

scared of feeling again

scared of being hurt

we dance around it

these feelings

these desires

these dreams

these words

so much of it unspoken

knowing what we could have

if only it was spoken aloud