Archive for January, 2012

DAY 253-278: “How Deep is Your Love?”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 26, 2012 by Veronica Graham

My life has calmed down and I couldn’t be more grateful for the change of pace. I’ve been working nonstop between makeup gigs and the Irish bar and learning to live with my roommates has been easier than I imagined. This new found independence seems to be quite fitting for a girl like me… Of course, my writing has suffered because of it– calm life = nothing juicy to write about.

A lot of really exciting things have happened though– New Years came and went, MLK Day as well (with our new MLK memorial in DC!), Obama gave his awesome State of the Union speech and recently, the Costa Concordia sank off the coast of the mediteranean sea because Captain Dip-Shit wanted to get his rocks off by blowing his “stack” to close to land. This cruiser was one of the newest luxury liners afloat, naturally human error was what lead to its destruction and the death and disappearance of innocent lives.  Not only did he cost people their lives because of his pride, he also abandoned ship before the passengers were lead to safety.  This is a little extreme, but it made me think about what causes a relationship to sink…

There are always minor and major errors that occur during the course of a relationship, but what is that one sharp rock that punctures your ship to sink to the abyss?  Then it made me think that maybe it’s not the mistakes, it’s how you deal with mistakes.  It hard for me to believe that I won’t be in a relationship that won’t involve a lie here and there, some manipulation…. and dare I say, possibly infidelity?  There are couples I know of, yes- married ones, that are far from faithful and the other (sadly, usually the woman) has no clue of their partner’s second life.  I think of secrets we harbor from our lovers, friends, and family and what would happen if they came to the surface?  I also think about when I’m married (hopefully, one day) and what IF I caught him cheating??? Would I handle it as graceful as catching him in a lie?  Or who’s to say I would handle a lie graceful at all?  The truth is, I have no idea how I would handle certain mistakes in a relationship, but I do know that if I don’t vow to handle them with care (yes, even if they are the ones who fucked up), then the relationship will surely sink.  I don’t have the answers to how to make this possible or even if it is, so don’t keep reading hoping that it will be revealed here later.

Sadly, it typically isn’t something HUGE that ends a relationship… it’s that ONE small thing that punctures it and we’re too bruised and prideful to stay onboard.  Of course, at this point, you’re thinking of ALL the minor hiccups, instead of that one last one that made you jump ship.  However, I can’t help but worry about me and my friends’ future in relationships– when we finally are married, will we be able to swallow our pride and stay afloat no matter how scary and hopeless things may seem?  Of course, sitting here now, I think- OF COURSE!  YES, I will stay onboard- hell, I’ll go down with the ship like Leo and Kate!  At the same time, I don’t want to get too cocky here and remember that I have to WORK to be the exception and not the rule… and that life isn’t the movies and that it is possible that my flight instinct during a really scary moment might be stronger than my fight, but I’m hoping by recognizing this now and when I am married (one day) and when that rock inevitably punctures our ship… I’ll fasten my seatbelt and take a deep breath before belting out, “My Heart WILL Go On”… Even if it kills me.

Here’s to what could have been 113-87  days, Veronica Graham, I’ll Never Let Go, Jack… I’ll Never Let Go.. No, Really.

Day 252-258: “The first time I did cocaine….er-crack”

Posted in Uncategorized on January 5, 2012 by Veronica Graham

Initially when I moved back from SF I couldn’t handle living in Pleasantville. I’d started working at a temp agency and befriended one of the girls I worked with named Betty. I’d become accustomed to being on my own and pumped with drugs 24/7 in Frisco and missed it terribly. I had a minor meltdown and moved out for a few months into Betty’s house before returning home with my tail between my legs and hand out for money and sympathy. As you can imagine, 10 years later I’m “on my own” again and they don’t buy it.

Betty was like the older sister I never had and later found out never wanted. She was in her mid 30’s and let me live with her rent free and even paid for one of my classes that I took at NOVA. She lived in a fabulous house, had a BMW and a boat. I couldn’t believe that I met someone like her who wanted to “save me” from the strict regime in Pleasantville. She graduated from JMU and was making it in this world as a working girl… I was her fun and she was my friend with benefits. She would buy alcohol because I was still underage and pick up coke from this local dealer that she trusted. She usually got the biggest bag of coke she could get and to “make it last longer” she would bring it home to her fiancé so that he could “fix it”.

At first glance I didn’t think anything of it, why would I? I was an addict and she was my wonder woman. She insisted that “fixing it” was the best way to make the most of it and I trusted her blindly. We sat by the by the fireplace, lit it up and took turns taking hits, admittedly she knew I would love it too if I would just try it.  I remember feeling like I had just swallowed a bottle of euphoria and wanted more. The worst part about crack (aside from the obvious) is that the high doesn’t last that long and I was already hooked after the first hit. Naturally, I became a closet crack head over night and probably smoked them into debt before returning to Pleasantville.

Betty wasn’t the only fucked up fairy godmother in my life. When I was living in SF I met a girl named Amy who I became instant friends with. My roommate hated me and my boyfriend at the time left me because I decided to strip for money… What a dick!  I needed a buddy and Amy filled that void. Amy like myself was a lost soul and we worked together at different clubs on the strip. She wasn’t like the other strippers, she took to me immediately and I felt oddly comfortable with her and that I could trust her. She was from Ohio and knew how to score Meth (what else did I need to know) I was a lonely addict who wanted a friend. We hung out all the time, smoked meth like cigarettes and would head to Santa Cruz on the weekends. Essentially, we were lazy strippers and usually only made enough money during the week to buy drugs and pay bills.

Like Betty, she was able to talk her way out of anything I questioned. She convinced me that she had no money and didn’t have any support from her family back in Ohio.  Since she was my friend  it was only fair that I help her the best way I could. I literally emptied out my jewelry box and gave her gold rings and necklaces that were given to me as gifts throughout my life to pawn. I told myself that she needed them more than me and took a blind eye to the possibility that she was just using me. Ironically, she was able to convince me to tell a hospital that she was related to me to get her injured knee treated by a doctor under my plan. The injury was already pre-existing but we worked our magic and were friends. She got her knee fixed and my dad paid the bill. To this day my day questions me about that bill. My lame excuse is…. I was skateboarding and fell trying to do an ollie.

When I came back to the East Coast I was a full-blown addict and crack cocaine was right up my ally… Betty just made it easier for me to get high. There have been certain women that have come in my life and have taking me under their broken wing…. No questions asked.  I’ve accepted the offer because most women have a caring side and love to fix other people and I’m usually “under construction” and in need of advice. I don’t blame Betty or Amy for my addiction or how I let them manipulate me into believing that they were “good” people. I trusted them before ever getting to really know them and that’s my fault.

Here’s to what could have been 113-107 Days, Veronica Graham, A pretty face is just that….nothing more and nothing less.