Archive for October, 2011

Day 182-184: “Leases, Rapture… Let’s Talk About J-C, Baby!”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 23, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Harold Camping strikes out again…I signed a lease with Kimmie and our new roommate, so technically my world did end! Well, the world as I know it (he he). We found a fancy three bedroom apartment with all the bells and whistles. I can’t wait to move in! I’m officially moving out of Pleasantville and on good terms: SHOCKER!

I received a couple comments about Jesus on my blog.  What surprised the HELL out of me is that I can talk about having an abortion, snorting coke, smoking crystal, being a stripper, sleeping with my ex-boyfriend’s dad, having sex with numerous men, treating people badly, dating married men and not receive any disapproving comments. I blurt out Jesus’s name here and there and that upsets a reader or two? Really?! Looking back I’m shocked that no one called me a baby killer, a dirty skank, or a home-wrecking slut in ANY other comment. I’ve done some fucked up shit and it wouldn’t matter if I was a Christian or not because every choice that I’ve made has affected the people in my life.  Specifically, these comments have either made fun of my Christian beliefs or asked me to stop talking about them.  I find this laughable.  My aim is to be honest about myself, no matter how ridiculous the things I write about may sound or how I know they make me look.  To just “stop talking about” Christianity would be denying a part of myself.  Sure, I’m not a good Christian (whatever that means, I’m still searching) but I did grow up in a Christian household and have been struggling with my faith for some time.  This is a part of me, whether or not it bothers some readers.

In light of the Rapture Part 2: I’m going to talk about JESUS!!!!  JJJJJJJJJEEEEESSSSUUUSSS!!!!  JC!  THE MESSIAH!!!  THE LORD OUR SAVIOR!   You know, that historical figure that was an odd ball about 2,000 years ago and died on a cross for being a “peacemaker.”  I don’t care if people DON’T believe in God, or believe in Allah, Yahweh, Buddha, The hundreds of Hindi Gods, other Deities or Demons, whatever the hell Mormons believe, Zeus, Witchcraft (Wicken?), Voodoo, and etc. Because, being the standard selfish bitch I am:  Whatever else someone believes has zero affect on me.  What’s interesting to me is how the very mention of JESUS can get so many panties in a twist.  Or hell, let’s just lump it up and say GOD.  Believing in a God is not only considered taboo, unfashionable, naive, uncool, and especially idiotic… but somehow all these super smart geniuses out there with all the answers of the universe and the afterlife still get riled up with the idea of someone else completely unrelated to them believing in God.  My past actions that actually did affect people negatively receive no comments and no harsh words.  However, believe in wizards in the sky… I guess that’s more of a turn off than being a drug addict or being a “baby killer.”

Don’t get me wrong, I think non-believers that get worked up about believers are just as crazy as the members of the Westboro Baptist Church.  I think the same thing about them:  If so many people are damned to hell, why worry about them?  Why wouldn’t they just live in their little community of what they consider “holiness” knowing that they’ll get into heaven, instead of spending all their energy on people who are already damned?  How do they affect you to the point of traveling cross country and expressing your dismay? (They’re known for picketing funerals, by the way… people already swimming in hell according to them and already too late to “save”)  Same goes with those who have to comment about MY faith, how does it affect you to the point of having to defend your belief (of no God)?  Especially when the people I’ve screwed over in my past have yet to comment about how much I’ve actually hurt them?

Most of these questions are rhetorical, by the way.  The people in my past are strong individuals and most of them are comfortable enough with themselves not to waste their time on trying to insult me.

I don’t know shit about Christianity, but I do know that yes, I believe in a God.  And I believe Jesus is the son of God… which makes me a Christian? However, I don’t deny that someone’s belief may be “correct.”  The Muslims might be right, the Mormons, the Hindis- they may all be right.  I don’t know.  All I know is MY belief.  It’s personal and it’s a piece of me.  I don’t believe that doing all the fucked up shit I’ve done AND believing in God makes me a shoe-in to heaven… and I don’t believe that imposing your beliefs on Anyone- NO MATTER WHAT YOUR BELIEF IS, including not believing- is the right thing to do.

Here’s to what could have been 184-182 Days, Veronica Graham, OK, Harold… when’s the next one?

Day 179-181: “Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 23, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I’m moving out in two months from Pleasantville and I must admit that I’m scared shitless. I’m scared that I will be living with Kimmie and scared that there is another person moving in with us. I had a panic attack at the mall, classic VG shit. My stomach started to turn upside down and at one point I had to sit down in a chair in Nordstrom and called Kimmie. She could tell by my tone of voice that I had fled from the Safety Zone in my brain and entered DANGER zone. In my borderline brain I’m either in 1 of 2 zones: SAFETY ZONE: Open minded, funny, compassionate and reliable or DANGER ZONE: Panic attacks, shifty eyes, racing thoughts and completely unpredictable. It fluctuates between the two and the people closest to me can see it happening before their eyes and are unable to stop me when I run head first into the Danger Zone. What they see I can only feel, and it breaks my heart that I still can’t manage it at times.

What I feel: Extreme Anxiety, like I have been punched in the stomach, the world is out to get me, completely paranoid, irrational thoughts,wanting to runaway and never return, I will never make it in the world alone, I should be locked away in an insane asylum.

What they hear and see: A defensive and frightened tone of voice, unable to hold eye contact, unable to sit still, black and white thinking (my feelings are fact), fits of depression- crying or sleeping a lot, bursts of anger, throwing tantrums like a child, drinking myself into oblivion, escaping into the arms of a complete stranger.

After getting through the initial fear of change and moving out, Kimmie and I met up with our new roommate. She is AWESOME! The three of us met at a Starbucks and we seemed to hit it off on our first meeting.  My initial response is usually to stick with what is comfortable and familiar. I’ve always been resistant to change, but realize that’s gotten me nowhere… I’m glad I got through my “freak out” moment and finally moving forward.  I know it won’t be easy, but I’m determined to be an AWESOME roommate and I can’t wait!!!

Here’s to what could have been 187-185 Days, Veronica Graham,  “Change is good- it will always get you out of a rut.”

Day 178: “Diarrhea of the Mouth”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 21, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Today was pretty cool… I got to work with a team of hairstylists and makeup artists in a photography competition held in Arlington, VA. The winners will be able to have their work published in the new Passion Upstyles/ Bridal and Family Stylebook. It was a great experience to be able to work with a team of makeup artists and hairstylists. Usually under pressure I start to sweat, talk loudly, and freak out, but today I managed to get a grip. I still have a lot to learn when it comes to being a makeup artist and realized how important it is to have a positive attitude. Regretably, I haven’t always been Miss Suzy Sunshine when someone sits in my chair.

1. The first feature film I worked on I made a young child actress cry…yes, I made her cry. I had just gotten of the phone with Iago and was livid and my lunch break was over. I have a tendency to allow my personal problems to seep into my professional life and it always ends badly. The young actress came up to me and asked me which outfit she should wear for her next scene and I brushed her off and told her to ask the director. BIG MISTAKE! It was a paid gig and it was my responsibility to manage wardrobe, hair and makeup and I didn’t do my job. My negligence and attitude problem affected the little girl and I couldn’t take it back. I had lost her trust and in turn created a bigger problem for the rest of the cast and crew. Not only did the director have to pick out her outfit, the child’s father had to calm her down as well as the other actors and actresses for her upcoming scene. On this same film I also managed to burn another child actress with my curling iron. She forgave me but to this day she doesn’t trust me with a curling iron.

2. I was scheduled to work on a short film for ONE day and I didn’t show up. I called in sick because I was upset about a fight I had gotten into with Iago the night before.

3. I was working on a short film and my services were only needed for ONE day. The day started out great until I freaked out on set because an actor was running late and I didn’t want to sit around and wait any longer. I wanted the day to be over so I could go home and hook up with a guy I was seeing at the time. Sure, the actor was late but I wasn’t the only one who was affected. However, I took it upon myself to open my big mouth and bitch about it. The crew members were shocked at my piss poor attitude, and told me to leave if I didn’t get my shit together. Makeup artists are replaceable and It’s not like the other actress’s on set don’t know how to apply makeup. My outburst managed to create a bad vibe in less than 5 minutes.

4. My most recent flare up didn’t happen on set but at the wrap party. I was working with the Film Geek on a short film and decided to tell him how I felt about him at the wrap party with my liquor courage. BIG MISTAKE! It was supposed to be a party to celebrate the accomplishment of the project, network and reflect on the experience. I ended up shit faced in front of the director/producer and acted like a self righteous bitch who was entitled to an apology. I have a tendency to live in a bubble and expect others to bend to my ego when I’m upset. Fuck their feelings and career, its all about me when I feel I’ve been wronged. I wasn’t able to bounce back from this particular flare up and the Film Geek will NEVER recommend or HIRE me for a job again… And my apology was in vain. The LAST thing any crew wants to deal with is DIVA makeup artist who talks too much and creates drama.

As for today, I kept my mouth shut and did my job. I maintained control of my emotions and didn’t draw negative attention to myself. I was able to be a team player, learn new tricks of trade and keep my ego in check. I even a received a compliment from one of the models. She told me that she felt at ease in my chair and that the feeling was comparable to the after effects of receiving a massage. I couldn’t believe it! I made someone feel relaxed?! Really? I realized in that moment that I should always have a grip on my emotions because my attitude and energy is felt by whomever is sitting in my chair. It is a very personal experience when you are having your makeup done. When someone sits in my chair I am in their personal bubble. I have to remember that every time and ALL the time. I’m the professional and they need to trust that I will make them look their best and not stress them out. The last thing a model, actor/actress or bride should be thinking about is how they look when they leave my chair. They should be able to trust that I have done my job correctly and effortlessly.

Heres to what could have been 188 Days, Veronica Graham, A makeup artist should be seen and NOT heard.

Day 176-177: “Waking up to Reality”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 20, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Yesterday was awesome! I had two makeup jobs and then met up with my dad, stepmom and brother for dinner. We had a great time, and I felt at ease with them for the first time in a long time. When I arrived at the restaurant I was in my favorite boots, an army green jacket that has a skull on it and black skinny jeans. My family looked like they had just stepped out of a Brooks Brother magazine… Some things never change. After dinner my brother and I headed to 711 to grab snacks before watching Aladdin. I pulled into a handicapped parking spot and I didn’t think much of it until I got called out by a group of teenagers loitering outside. One of the guys glared at me and said “You’re not handicapped! Don’t park there!” I took a drag of my cigarette and said “I’m not parked…The car is still on!” My brother informed me that the guy I was arguing with had a learning disability, our family was friends with his and that I should take it easy. Before I could drive off  I heard “At least we aren’t the ones arguing with a bunch of teenagers!” I didn’t have a come back strong enough so I drove off.

After nearly crying myself to death I feel like I’ve been cleansed of some of the nonsense that runs through my brain. While I was having dinner with my family I realized how much time I’ve lost an missed opportunities I’ve had to treat them kindly and with love. I walk around with a chip on my shoulder, well more like a boulder. I’ve noticed that there are two sides to me. My “gangster wannabe” side and my “make love not war” hippie side. In between make up jobs yesterday I watched how people interact with one another. People with families, children screaming at their parents, teenage girls dressed alike, new lovers holding hands, etc. I realized that people just want to be understood and accepted.

I can’t take back the time I lost with my family in Pleasantville when I was running around causing trouble. I wish I knew then what I know today. I now know that my family loves me warts and all (just kidding). My mother will always be a wanderer and my sister and I might never see eye to eye but thats okay. I have been blessed with Kimmie who is my sister from another mister and she will always be in my life, just like my crazy family. I see now that life is short, like really short and your not promised tomorrow. What would happen if I didn’t get the chance to make amends with the people I love or have hurt? Everytime I glance at the news I see new murder cases, missing children reports, conflict in other countries, people starving in third world countries, or people dying of aids or cancer. While I sit at home and bitch about a guy that doesn’t like me or how I’m almost 30 and live at home.

Regardless of all the bullshit I have been through or put myself through I’m able to talk about it today and grow from it. I have no idea what new adventure tomorrow holds for me, but I know that my family has been patiently waiting and supporting me for years to WAKE THE FUCK UP and do something with my life versus complaining about what I don’t have.

Heres to what could have been 190-189 Days, Veronica Graham, Damn teenagers got the best of me.

Day 171-175: “Sudden Crying Syndrome and Gangsters”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 15, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I have officially cried for 21 days straight.  Yes… I’ve counted.  It’s been exactly three weeks since I’ve cried every single day.  Most days, it’ll be in my car, as soon as I get to work I run to the bathroom to cry, and then I cry before I sleep.  That’s a lot of crying, but more importantly, I’m wondering what the hell is wrong with me?! Seriously, 21 days?  Most people mourning death don’t cry THAT many days straight.

Things that spark my eyes to well up with sudden crying syndrome:

1. “Hey, How’s it going?… Are you OK?”

2. The number of men I’ve slept with.

3.  The fact that not a single one of those men has actively tried to “win me back.”

4. Seeing happy couples at the Irish Bar.

5. Doing make up for a bride, who has found her one and only.

6. Fucking Facebook photos of old friends getting married and/or with their new babies and growing happy families.

7. People flinching when I yell at them.

In the past five days, I’ve continued working out, bitching about old lovers that will never come back to me, looked for places to live (yay!), and realized that sometimes I think I’m a gangster.

My gangster-self comes from acting like a complete bitch, threatening to “punch [insert name here] in the FACE,” and blasting rap music in my Toyota.  I’ve been attracted to “bad people” in the past: lots of crack heads and quite frankly, a lot of stuck up white kids who think they’re thugs.  I was one of those white kids.  The Gangster Yo Girl in Gap clothing, living in the Northern Virginia suburbs, always complaining about how hard life is and bitching about how I’ll punch anyone out that don’t respect me!  Oh, and… I DON’T OWE YOU ‘NOTHIN!

The truth is, being “gangster” was cool in high school and I’m constantly struggling to get away from the false ideals of my old stomping grounds.  This could be because I still hang out with a lot of people from high school, who still hang out with each other. Therefore, we’ve been living in extended high school with bigger bank accounts and adult responsibilities when school has been WAAAYY OVER.  The “cool girls” of high school are still the “cool girls” now, except I’m having more and more trouble really seeing WHAT makes them so cool?  And why am I still the new girl?  The “cool guys” are still the “cool guys” that all the girls want to be with… but seriously?  What exactly is it that makes them so cool nearing 30 now other than the fact that they were once cool when they were teenagers??

It’s hard to find these answers around your friends that have been my friends for so many years, but I’m working on taking a step back and really observing my friendships AND myself objectively.  Not that there aren’t legitimate answers here, but all I am saying is that I can’t see the forest for the trees when it comes to my long time classmates.

I can now see, I’m not the gangster I thought I was.  Maybe I am a little more of a country club gal than a “street thug.”  How would a complete third party member see me when I’m ordering my coffee at Starbucks?  Or me with my friends when we’re out at the bar?  I know people say that you shouldn’t care what others think of you, but I think it’s pretty important to know if you’re representing yourself in a way that you don’t mean to be.

So, yeah, I’m a little overwhelmed right now. With a shocking lack of support from spilling the beans on my childhood secret (with the exception of an old high school acquaintance who reached out to me, the bartender at my local spot, my father who took me to lunch, and of course, Kimmie), the realization that not ONE single guy has said, “I’m really sorry for how I treated you… I played a part in our relationshit, too.”, that I come across as a COMPLETE BITCH when I’m just trying to order my damn Starbucks latte (I really do scare people, no BS), and maybe a little that I’m getting closer and closer to the big 3-0.

I’ve decided today would be the end of my 21 days of crying.  I can’t be that pathetic little gangster girl anymore.  I’ve got to tap into the stronger side of me, knowing that all of these painful realizations are just preparing me to be the best Veronica Graham I can be.

Here’s to what could have been 195-191 Days , Veronica Graham, FU*K YOU, #*$^##!! BITC&! I’M GONNA *#*&*&& YOU UP! … One last time to get it out of my system, BITCH.

Day 170: “Fate or Probability?”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 10, 2011 by Veronica Graham

Once upon a time, three guys walked into a bar and ordered a beer.  The three guys shortly realized that they’ve all slept with Veronica Graham.  Fate or Probability?  Hard to say since I’ve fucked Washington D.C.

The three guys all walked into an Irish bar (yes, different from the one that I work in today) to have a beer to wind down from a day at work.  I was dating Iago at the time, and therefore, out of the social scene.  The guys started talking, I’m not sure for how long before it turned into the conversation about “crazy girls” they’ve dated or fucked.

For one of the guys, Brandon, I happened to be at the top of his list.  Brandon and I dated briefly while we worked together at one of the many restaurants I’ve worked in and he left me for a younger girl, she was 19 at the time, not even old enough to join him at a bar!  I was PISSED, FURIOUS!  We still worked together and I couldn’t help but say things like, “WHAT?!! Is it because she’s YOUNGER than me?!,”  “Does she FUCK better than me?!,” “Her EARS are HUGE!”  This officially put me in the crazy category, especially when I was trying to smell the difference between a Coca-Cola and Diet Coke for a table I was serving.  He had said to me, “What, you can’t tell the difference with that nose?!”  I threw a lime wedge at him and told him to go fuck himself… Maybe THAT was the incident I was finally put in the crazy category.  Just a note:  I was on a lot of drugs during this point in my life.  He also went on to talk about my crazy boyfriend, Iago, that followed me home one day and ended up having the cops called on him for Criminal Stalking.

This reminded Breton of a girl he was once with.  Same level of emotion instability, but did have a crazy guy that used to follow her around everywhere.  Of course, this guy was Iago.  While I was sleeping with Breton, Iago used to follow me a lot… when I left home from work, when I left work to go home, and when I left home to go to Breton’s apartment for sex.  One time I notice Iago’s car circling Breton’s apartment and FREAKED out, we were low crawling underneath one of the windows before dialing 911 to finally get the cops to catch him!  Yes, I did leave Breton for Iago, sadly as I mentioned in yesterday’s post.  However, the crazy stories didn’t stop there.

The third guy worked with Brandon and mentioned the times I would corner him during work asking when we would make out!  I used to talk to him about how beautiful his eyes were and how badly I wanted to make out with him… apparently, girls as aggressive and crazy as I am aren’t so easy to find.  Then…. my name came up and the three of them all connected the dots that they had slept with and was talking about the same girl.  Yes…. THIS girl.  Veronica Graham.

The three guys then left the bar to go play beer pong at Brandon’s place and apparently hung out on multiple occasions together… I don’t know about you, but that’s fucking weird.  Crazy guys.

Here’s to what could have been 196 days, Veronica Graham, Ah, Fuck it…

Day 169: “Top 3 Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas”

Posted in Uncategorized on October 9, 2011 by Veronica Graham

I ran with Kimmie this morning and then headed to Yoga to see my favorite Yogi Master.  Today we focused on cleansing the subconscious of negative thoughts and learning to tap into our intuition and being present. Before I went to Yoga I had a 45 minute nap because I’m getting old and old people take naps. During my nap I had a dream and I saw a full moon and felt very unsettled, I recicved a phone call from the Pathological Liar and panicked and started to run. Kimmie was in the dream and told me to let him go… However, I didn’t listen, I just kept running. Ironically, Kimmie also had a dream last night about my fucked up love life and that I had married Norman and decided to not have children, but bought a yellow lab as a replacement. I was OBSESSED with my dog and turned into one of those crazy dog owners who carts their pet around everywhere.  Kimmie thinks her dream was a mixture of a dog documentary she watch earlier that day and a conversation about my uncanny ability to “flip” my views at a drop of a hat.  I’m still trying to decode my dream, but I think (after Googling what dreaming of the moon means) is that I’m still harboring feelings of hope regarding past lovers.  All my friends that were trying to talk some sense into me were being left in my dust as I continued to chase after that damn moon!

I realized today that I am in a constant state of longing.  I typically choose an old fling to suddenly long for again (usually it’s the most recent) and when I finally pull myself together and get over them, I revert back to some of my oldie-but-goodies.  Guys that treated me well and I have regret from letting them go.

My Top 3 Favorite Go-To Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas are:

1. THOMAS – I was 20 years old when I met Thomas and he was a son of restaurant owner and attended Virginia Tech University studying Hotel and Restaurant Management.  His parents weren’t crazy about me, but he showed me off anyway.  Thomas and I dated for a year, waited three months before having sex, and I kissed Yankee Baby when he was home from school one day.  I confessed to Thomas and he told me we could work it out.  He suddenly was ashamed of having me and refused to call me his girlfriend again.  It was a slow and painful breakup that lasted for years.  Technically, our relationship ended when I confessed my kiss of death with Yankee Baby, but we would meet up for “old time’s sake” hook ups for a few years.  I finally got pretty deep into drugs and he left me alone for good.  Last I heard, Thomas was living in Southern Virginia, had a nice house and good job as a Project Manager.  Although it was just a kiss that ended our relationship, looking back I could see how well he treated me and how badly I now want a man like he’s become.

2. THE CELEBRITY- I was 24 years old and had just broken away from a “pack” of old friends who were very much in the drug scene.  I was determined to get myself clean and registered in a self-awareness program.  The Celebrity was amongst the other lost souls at this weekend long workshop and I offered him a ride to his hotel near my parent’s house.  It was raining cats and dogs and his driver was unable to make it out to the workshop location, but the flood had prevented us from traveling very far.  We ended up checking into a hotel in Springfield, Virginia and spent the night together.  We never had sex, I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving the area with this idea that I was some kind of groupie and I was convinced we had an incredible connection.  In the morning, his driver came to pick him up and he kissed and hugged me goodbye before leaving me.  We kept in contact via email and one interaction he had invited me out to Park City.  I said I couldn’t because I was working on my Associate’s Degree and shortly after, we lost contact for good.  Although we did connect for a few hours one night, he’s been one of the hardest ones to let go and my all time favorite woulda-coulda-shoulda.  Of course, I attribute us not being together due to the fact that I turned down his invitation to Park City.  The logical side of me knows that he probably doesn’t even remember me and the reason I have so much trouble letting go of him is because… well, he’s a celebrity.  I have access to his photos online and in public, his music, and pretty much every move he makes.  I also know that more than likely he’s put many girls in the same position as myself.

3. BRETON – I met him while he was out in DC performing in a play with Kimmie.  I was instantly hooked and wanted to know him.  He was tall, idealistic, and talented.  After the play was over, he went back home out west.  A year later, he decided to move to DC.  I was dating Iago at the time, but I was thrilled to finally get to know Breton.  One wintery evening, Breton and I shared a kiss before I was going to meet up with Iago and did not feel a shred a guilt.  I broke up with Iago, and finally had Breton.  We started hanging out daily and I remember he treated me with care.  I wasn’t able to let go of Iago completely then and started dodging Breton’s phone calls… By the time I was able to leave Iago for good, Breton had moved on and made it clear that our shot had come and went.

So, I see that only two of these should be legitimate “woulda coulda shouldas,” but regardless, these are the three I revisit often when I don’t have anyone to long for.  I look at the relationship between my father and stepmother, a relationship I judge often and claim that I want to steer far away from, but looking at them today I started to question my way of thinking… Obviously, the way I think naturally doesn’t work out for me.  It’s my stepmother’s birthday today and my father is taking her out to see a concert after she treated herself to a day at the salon.  The two of them used to drive from Pennsylvania to Virginia to pick me up every other weekend because my mother refused to drive me.  It was an eight hour trip total, every other weekend, sometimes they would come together and sometimes my stepmother would drive by herself so they could deal with my antic ass for three days.  The two of them have raised one of the most successful and good hearted people I know, my brother.  Despite our fights, they still make a point to say “Hi” to me every morning when I wake up for my run.  The two of them are still together and have never once laid a hand on me and have definitely dealt with my wrath more than any other person on this planet…  Maybe I should concentrate on having a relationship with the two of them before it’s too late and learn from them… they’re obviously doing SOMETHING right.  My stepmother will not and cannot be my mother, God didn’t plan it that way and I’ve rejected that verbally on many occasions, but I think I can seek out some kind of friendship with her and look to her as someone to admire than to fight.

Here’s to what could have been 197 Days, Veronica Graham, I’m a bitch.. sometimes letting go of bullshit is the hardest thing to do.