I airplane, you airplane.

There just isn't a way to put it into words.
My life.
But I'm determined to write about it.
These years, year, or 5 months.
I moved to Milwaukee in April of 2008.
I did not have a job.
[I was promised one at Alterra,
but all of my paperwork fell through
& was not on the schedule 'til who knows when with bills to pay.]
I had been frequenting Eric's employer, Anodyne Coffee,
so they offered me a job based on my experience. I think.
I started as a cashier,
but in two days I was on bar.
Then I was opening bar.
It was awesome.
Those two weeks without touching espresso was making me legitimately insane.
Then, along the way, I realized I wasn't growing.
& I wasn't learning anything.
& my accomplishments during the day were minimal.
I had not broadened my coffee knowledge.
The whole reason we moved to this state.

Then, a few lights had shown in opportunities.
& one held out their hand immediately offering me a interveiw.
Intelligentsia.
It wasn't the big name that got me.
Heh, I'm not a brand person.
It was like scouting for college.
You go into the Director of Education's office,
& they tell you all these ways to learn what you want to learn,
take this class,
do this internship,
meet these professors, &
in a couple years, wah-lah !
You've got yourself a degree in Education !
Kind of like that.
I'm thirsty for knowledge, education, coffee, & pushing myself.
& my interview with Mike Philips offered me just that.

I was so excited.
Eric had talked with some of the roasters,
& they gave words of encouragement.
I was following Mike anywhere coffee was involved,
trying to keep my head on my shoulders.

I was living alone.
In a 700 dollar old motel room turned into an apartment.
I was couch crashing on a couch I wasn't necessarily welcomed.
I felt I didn't belong.
I took one of the first openings for an apartment I could.
Close to work.
Never have to spend money on the bus.
Just rent, & my phone bill.
It got to a point where I felt like I was going insane.
I wasn't eating [I could NOT afford food].
I was trying to stay away from my apartment as much as possible.
Why ?
The neighbors were lousy, sleazy & loud.
I was hounded by the engineer because shit was wrong with my apartment.
I was alone, & mostly cried.

I'M NOT A BABY.
I have been through some shit.
& humans feel.

So, going to work was incredible.
I was surrounded by Chicago Scene.
I could watch these baristas work on bar all day.
I finally got Clover Certified !
So I could dial in coffee's picked for the day !
I was in constant contact with coffee & people.
But, at the end of that 8-hour shift,
I had no where to go,
I had nothing to eat,
& everyone had their own plans.

Stealing the neighbors wi-fi,
Netflix became my best friend.
So did the phone.
I went two weeks tops without seeing a friendly face.
A real one.
Like, Eric or Luke.
I go without seeing my best girl friends for months.
I started to enjoy being alone.
Because that meant I didn't have to try,
to be shot down.
Or drown my face in cheap bourbon & PBR,
just to feel like shit the next day.
Or to think about food.
There were food storefronts everywhere you walked ...

When I planned to see Eric, or vise versa,
we would take the Metra for a two hour ride from Clybourn to Kenosha.
& there's still a 45 minute car ride from Kenosha to Milwaukee.
It got real hard ...

It got scary.
I almost took my life.
In all seriousness.
Everything ever,
all the shit that's ever gone down in my life,
kept building & building,
& the apartment became the mountain
where I hoarded myself &
my insecurities,
my hopes,
my depression.
My life.
It would've been my death,
if it weren't for Luke & Eric making an emergency drive down.
They saved my life.
Fuck.
I'm fucking crying while I type this shit.
Because I still feel the thorn. &
that the millions of them have broken off &
stay inside & build like mulch & mud.
Like the time my older sister tried to kill me.
or the time she molested me & my younger sister.
Or the times my father punched me in the face.
or when I pissed myself because of how scared I was of him.
How I still wake up in the middle of the night &
hear my mother crying ...
& see him slap Jackie in her crib.
How he almost broke my arm.
The time I called after I walked out of that place.
The anger in his voice;
"Come home dog, & receive your beating.
There's no freedom here.
You're mine."
I still have nightmares of you.
& I still smell the liquor.
...

I wish things could have been different.
I wish I could've finished my college degree.
& I wish I was still working for Intelligentsia.
& how I still get choked up thinking about it.
Did I miss an opportunity ?
Yes.
Will I ever get that chance, again ?
Who knows.
Do I still blame my family ?
Sometimes.
But for the most part.
I just love them so much.
I wish things were different ...

So, anyway.
On the road to recovery.
It's been ...
almost 3 years ?
Since I've left home.
Almost 3 years since I've said a word to that man.
I've talked to my mom ... 12 times since ?
My sisters more frequently.

Well, this post sort of went in an interesting direction.
I'm sort of glad no one really reads this but Eric.
I'm back in Milwaukee, now.
Working two jobs.
Working with coffee.
Trying to expose myself to this coffee world.
Trying to expose my brain to all this knowledge.
Trying to lap up some sanity.
Do more art.
Push myself hard.
Love freely.
Trust my instincts.
Let it happen ...

I bought a ukulele.
I am learning how to tattoo.
My milk is sweet,
my espresso juicy,
& I can pour my heart out.
I'm gonna do this.