The Pony of Doom

The French word for "pony" is "poney."
which.  of course.  is adorable.

Less adorable are the enormous
maxi-pads that I am wearing everywhere.

Apparently the bleeding will stop soon.

Makes me want to lay a great white ribbon
down the road to my house upon which I perch
myself and drag my ass along, leaving a brilliant
red streak long and wide enough to be
spotted from the airplane from which I
soon intend to jump.

Skydiving: one thing I wanted to do
that I thought I wouldn't be able to do
because I don't want to die too soon if
I have a child.

My beloved and I are going skydiving.

We holed up and watched movies all
weekend.  Windows covered and all.
"August Rush" killed me.  Especially
considering that we are both musicians.

So I was on my back in bed waiting for
the impetus to get up and wondering what
I am doing wrong in the world because
I need to feel that I actually can control
this situation, and the following occured to me:

I always come extremely close, but never land
on the target.  And this is in unusual circumstances
as well as farly normal ones.

And I just spent 30 minutes typing out examples
and after reading it, I don't want to post it.
It all just sounds like my whining in the face of
what most would think was some pretty awesome
shit.  So I will just leave two examples up.

And before you read: Let it be known that I feel
I am a very fortunate person.  Despite difficulties I have
been blessed with ridiculous optimism.  I am willful,
capable, full-bodied, and I feel like I am on a path.
I feel like life is a magical place.

Truly. 
Stop Gagging.

I just need one little key to unlock the final door.


Simple everyday example:
my writing has been published in many reputable journals,
but my first book just is too...something to be published.
In contests I get honorable mentions, I get runner up,
but no one wants to commit.


Another example, more bizarre?  I was living in Italy right after
college in '91when I was approached in a club by a rapper who
asked me if I wanted to be in his video.  This was before rap was
so huge in the US.  I said yes, and it ended up being just me, him
and another dancer.  This was also in the MC Hammer dance
era when dancing in a rap video was super athletic, not at
all skanky ho stuff.  The video went well and, it turned out,
he was huge in Brazil.  He asked me to accompany him and
the other dancer on his tour of Brazil.  We rehearsed like wild
beasts and one month later touched down in Brazil where,
in fact, we were met by a large entourage and it turned out
to be true: he was a huge star.  Bizarre.  I had a bodyguard.
We did a 3 week tour of concerts where we played to up to
10,000 people.  (I have the pictures as proof.)  However...

He had a huge cocaine problem.  He would continuously fire
and rehire me 5 minutes before we were to go on stage.
He would go into blackout and threaten to leave me in Brazil
without a passport.  On the way back to Italy, where he was
completely unknown, he asked me to stay on and do a mini-tour
of Europe to help him launch his European career.  Of course,
I said no.  He said nothing.  When we got back to his
apartment he threw all of my clothes down the apartment
building stairs and kicked me out, refusing to pay me for the
tour.  I made my way to the train station where, at 4 am,
I sat my ass down on my suitcase and sobbed and sobbed
while the transvestites who were picking up johns took turns
in comforting me.  They were very kind.  Especially considering
how much more difficult their lives are.

Somehow I made it back to the US.

It could have been simple.
We could have gone on to work together
and made many duckets with which I could
have helped many people.

Two little examples.

and now:

Pregnancy:  I make it, twice, to 12.5 weeks but I just can't
get over that 13 week barrier (there was another pregnancy that
was a blighted ovum....let us not forget).

I don't wish to further bore you.
I know I sound sorry for myself.
I know.
I am going to vomit over this, I am sure.

But.
I am just one little person.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, ALL of my close friends
are successful.  Some have had hard lives, some have had relatively
easy lives.  But they all have made it over the final barrier
and are launched.

And then there is me.
With my relatively difficult childhood and extraordinary adulthood.
I am not without hope so what is the "issue!"

WHAT is it that stops me from making this last step.
What do I need to understand that will allow me to obtain
the real, and extraordinary, goals of which I feel I am capable.

I am convinced this is all wrapped up with the miscarriages
and pregnancy path.

Any Answers Are Welcome.
I see the problem.  But am in the fog.

Thank you for indulging me.
I am aware of all the flaws in this post.
I am now sick of myself.