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Aaah Laura! Which certificates?

The Pop Singer's Fear of the Pollen Count - Entry 28

[March 3rd, 2011]
Never thought I would actually miss writing in this thing. This is the first real time I’ve had to myself since I got home from the hospital last Saturday, I think Beth, mom, Trace and Rachael have some kind of shift pattern going to sit with me, which is nice and all, but I’m thirty years old, I don’t need a babysitter. Thirty years old, Jesus. That’s half way to sixty. Fucking Christ. I always thought we’d have one big blowout for my thirtieth, one of those parties that you can’t remember but that you know was a fucking trip. Maybe we’ll still do that, maybe the wedding will be it. My birthday didn’t go unmarked though, we had a nice little thing in the hospital, and when I came home I finally got my gift. I actually walked up the stairs to see it looming above me, one of the cooler shots from the family portraits we had taken last year. It’s pretty typical that Beth would pick one of just me and LJ to have enlarged and mounted at the top of the stairs, but she insisted that there are plenty of pictures of her around the house, I guess there are some and there will soon be more once we have the wedding album and shit.

She’ll be twenty-seven soon, which is also kind of weird but still cool. I’d like to do something nice for her, but over the years the grand gestures become a little redundant; and simpler, more thoughtful things are more important to both of us. Those are also hard to come up with. I eventually got around to buying her some nice shoes for a late-as-hell Christmas present, shoes that she definitely did not need but I know she wanted. I haven’t actually witnessed her wearing them outside of the house but I hope that’s down to a lack of appropriate context and not because she doesn’t like them. I like my woman dressed up; she’s always been into heels and dresses and such, I guess lately it’s easier for her to run around after me in sweats and sneakers, which is sad. She’s still cute as always but it’s just kind of wrong that she’s not herself right now. So I can’t buy her shoes again, and she doesn’t need another purse or more jewellery, she has pretty much everything she wants and I can’t even be irritated because I’m responsible for most of it. If I see something I think she’ll like, I’ll always get it just ‘cause I like getting her stuff, and it works both ways because I know she thinks of me when she shops too. It’s cool that she’s making her own money now, means she isn’t as weird about the financial gap that only she sees between us. It’s not like it has significantly narrowed or anything, but I guess it’s nice for her to feel like she doesn’t rely on me so much money wise. If she sees something she likes, she can buy it herself, but if I’m with her I like to step in. It’s also pretty funny how much free stuff she gets now. I’ve had people trying to clothe me for the greater part of my life, so it isn’t as weird to me as it is to her that people want her to be seen wearing their clothes, or their jewellery, even their makeup and shit. From experience we know it works because the William Rast stuff we both try to wear in public usually sells pretty well once the pictures circulate. We definitely have some vulture-like friends who are all over the excess of what Beth isn’t into or doesn’t think she’ll wear, so since she gives away a ton of clothes and cosmetics regularly, there’s zero point in me giving her anything like that. I guess a gift card to a spa or something always goes down well, as do tickets to concerts or shows or whatever. There isn’t a whole lot that I could buy or even do that would even compensate for everything I owe her. I guess I really just need to tell her that, though putting it into words is difficult and maybe even embarrassing.

For the past couple of years I’ve taken her down to the Coachella festival, which she really digs and I enjoy too, but our timing is off for that at the minute. I know I’m not up to it and even if I pretended to be, she wouldn’t allow it. I’d send her with Rachael or somebody if I thought she would go. We took Logan down on the Saturday afternoon last year and he dug it, but the whole weekend is too long for him I think, and it’s nice when we can stay down there just the two of us without worrying about how to keep him entertained. It only takes like, two hours tops to get there, so she could go with somebody for a day, anyways. The fun is staying in Indio, though, so I don’t know that she’d be into going for just a day, and I’m not sure I would want her to go with anybody else but me, it’s a tradition I’d like to keep and continue. Actually when I think about it, the drive down there is a lot of fun, too. It’s tradition for her to hook up her i-pod and flick through songs that she thinks I need to hear before we get there. And I do mean ‘flick’ because she never lets me listen to the full song, she jumps through them so quickly. Maybe she needs a weekend away from me to relax like that, it’s probably her favourite weekend in the year. I guess I’ll talk to her about it.

She still fusses, standing over me any time I dare to move, obsessively checking on me and cleaning any area I happen to be in. I’m completely down with making an effort and being careful so I can keep getting better, but there is no need for Beth to be as stressed as she is right now. The second I moved out of the bedroom and into this office she was in there disinfecting everything, cleaning behind me. I wish she could just relax and enjoy the fact that I’m at home, but she’s cleaning now, then she’ll be leaving to get LJ from school and when she feeds him, works out whatever he needs for tomorrow, makes dinner for the rest of us, bathes the kid and gets him to bed, I’ll probably be asleep too.

She’s started to look for a wedding dress but I get the feeling her heart isn’t in it. I’ve seen some hot ones online but the womenfolk insist that I don’t get a say in such things. I do, however, have creative control over everything else since Beth doesn’t mind as long as it isn’t over the top. I like over the top, though, not like in a tacky way, I just want it to be a huge party, like something fitting, something that shows everyone, including Beth, how much I love her and how like, worthy of celebration this is. I don’t want to speak too soon but we just survived like, I guess not the worst thing that could happen, but something up there on the scale of fucking awful shit to happen to a family. And we’ve been through our share of bullshit since we’ve been together, even before this, so I think we deserve to celebrate the relationship we’ve built in spite of all that. Beth deserves it, anyway. I owe her this and probably more. She’s still here, completely constant like I need her to be but still surprising me all the time. She really stepped up for me, handled this whole thing with so much grace and strength, she makes the rest of us look like pussies. My woman has more balls than I do, and I’m okay with that. I mean, would I have stepped up for her in the same way if the tables were turned? I’d like to think I would have, but if I hadn’t seen how she’s handled everything, if I didn’t have her example to follow, could I have juggled all this bullshit to take care of her and done it without showing everybody that I was fucking terrified? I know she is, she has to be a little scared even if she hasn’t admitted to it. I know I was, I honest-to-God believed it was the end when I couldn’t even breathe enough to tell her not to worry. More than anything, I’m embarrassed. Three dudes had to physically pick me up and put me in an ambulance, how stupid does that look? You can watch the whole thing on YouTube, or MeTube as I like to call it since I’m all over that shit. There were even a few times in the hospital that I thought ending this bullshit would be easier than lying in a bed with strangers picking and poking at me, pissing into a plastic bag, being washed down by old women who insisted I shouldn’t ‘be bashful’ even when they could see things seen only by my woman and my mother. I can’t say it enough, I am so glad to be home, even if things are a little different.

I feel like a hundred times better just for the simple fact that I’m out of there, specifically the fucking clean room, not just clean of bugs but of any and all fun. Not that it’s all that fun being stuck in the house either but at least I have LJ, Beth and mom for entertainment. The kid is a lot smarter than we give him credit for. He knows I’m sick, reminds his mom that he needs to clean up and always asks before he comes in my room, asks me if I feel okay and tells me that I should be resting. It could be the brainwashing attempts of his mother but I like to put it down to inherited intelligence. I’m told he’s doing good at school and he has a ton of stories about his friends and stuff. It’s cute, but I kind of wish he could have stayed four years old forever, just when he was talking really well, starting to develop a sense of humour and keeping it for our entertainment only. Is it sad that I’m jealous of my kid’s friends?

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even realise what he did for me, going through with the bone marrow transplant probably saved my life, and he’s too young to get that. He’s never talked about it, I’m not even sure he really thinks about it or remembers it any more, and I can’t really express to my kid how grateful I am for what he’s done for me, especially not without sounding like a pussy. And I don’t just mean what he’s done through the transplant, I just mean in general. I don’t like to think it, but maybe if we didn’t have Logan, Beth and I wouldn’t have made the effort we did to stay together, and I don’t mean that in a shitty way because I love the hell out of her, but that isn’t enough sometimes, and if we didn’t have a kid together we might have given up on each other. I guess that’s where you trust that things happen for a reason, that it was no accident that Beth got pregnant when she did, that that child happened to be a suitable bone marrow match when I got sick, and that no matter what we have a tie to each other for the rest of our lives.

Beth is still a little too hard on him sometimes, I think. He’s a little boy, it would be weird if he wasn’t loud and kind of obnoxious sometimes, and I enjoy it when he’s a little crazy so she doesn’t need to be shooing him out of the room the whole time. She’s not the same person she was a year ago, but I guess neither am I. I see glimpses of her sometimes, though. When she isn’t hiding behind a bottle of bleach or flitting around the house like some kind of maniac, I’m lucky enough to see a little bit of my lady in the flurry of stress that I’m soon to marry. A couple of days ago I found her in the kitchen, scrubbing everything in sight while singing along to the radio, dancing around every so often and actually seeming relaxed for once. It only lasted as long as it took for her to notice that I was behind her and she was gone again, insisting that I would catch a chill if I didn’t put socks on my bare feet immediately. Who knew that at thirty years old I would still be put in my place like a child?

Things are getting better though. Slowly, but they are, and I’m hoping that little by little we can have our life back. I’m excited to go ahead with the wedding. I know we need to wait a couple of months until I’m stronger and look a little better – don’t want to look like crap next to what will probably be the hottest bride seen by the human eye. The guest list will be pretty much how she wants it – family and close friends. I want a marquee in the back yard, an amazing caterer, a band and a DJ, and ideally I would be whisking her away somewhere amazing, spoiling her in the way she deserves to be and giving us both the break we need so fucking bad. Everything is a little too serious right now; I miss when shit was simple, and fun. I would never wish Logan away but I think it would have been cool to have some time just for me and Beth. I should probably feel guilty for thinking that but I don’t. Nothing wrong with wanting to spend some time with my lady when she’s not in ‘mom’ mode. Most of the time I totally dig her when she’s doing the motherly shit for me and the kid, but I enjoy her more when she’s a little looser, not so uptight. Even with mom’s help she’s still crazy about being in control of everything. She tells me that if our situation was reversed and she was the sick one, I wouldn’t let her mom do anything for us, which is probably true, but I’d sure as hell be relying on my own mother for help. Sandy visited us when I was in the hospital but other than that she’s kind of silent. I mean, she’ll call on the phone or whatever but I don’t see her as any kind of support for Beth or for our family. I feel like Beth fits better with my family than she does with her own. It helps that mine is awesome and unfortunately the majority of her relatives are douchebags. Especially her bastard of a father. I cannot describe how it feels to see her upset over somebody who couldn’t give a shit about her. What bothers me most is that I still don’t even know what his fucking problem is. If it were my daughter I think I’d be pretty happy if I knew somebody was taking care of her the way I have with Beth. I won’t pretend like I haven’t pulled some dumb shit on her, but he doesn’t even know about any of that so he really has no reason to dislike me. All I can say is thank God she does have me to look out for her, because he sure as hell doesn’t.

I like her one uncle who has the beach house in Mexico, only because he lets us use it once in a while, but of the others I’ve met and heard about, I don’t particularly like. I don’t even really care for Beth’s brother or his mom; Rhona is bitter and I think has passed a lot of that on to Brandon, who is a fucking nightmare to watch. The last time Beth took Rhona out in LA and left me with the kids, Brandon taught my kid to cuss me out, kicked me in the balls and locked himself inside my studio, annihilated a ten thousand dollar piece of equipment, and got out of the whole thing punishment-free. If Logan pulled that shit he would be banned from having any kind of fun for the rest of his life. Luckily we don’t see them a lot. We have all the family we need though, and hopefully our own will be growing in the next couple of years.

I want to take some time to spend with my wife when we’re finally married, but after that I want to make another record, tour it, and maybe do another movie before we have another baby. It would be perfect if Beth got pregnant during the tour so she would be due when I’m finished. I guess it would be easier to have a baby on a movie set than on a tour, wouldn’t be as tiring I think. It would be nice to have a girl though another boy would be cool. I should talk to Beth about it, I’m pretty sure she’s down with the idea of another kid, which is weird since I’m not sure she’s convinced that she even wants to marry me. Actually, no, I know she wants to marry me, she’s just scared I’m gonna die on her. I shouldn’t find that as amusing as I do. If we toured over summer it would be easier to take Logan with us. I’m okay with hiring a tutor to come on the road, but I don’t know if that would be disruptive to his routine or whatever. His routine’s gonna be disrupted anyway, with me on tour. And scheduling dates every other two weeks is hard enough, trying to cover the world in just one summer with breaks in between is short of impossible, but what the lady insists on, the lady gets. She hates touring and makes sure I know about it. She’s yet to refuse to accompany me though, which really is a testament to what a good boyfriend I am and what an awesome husband I’m going to be. Heh. I don’t think LJ even remembers what it’s like to be on a tour, but it involves a lot of time where they can do little else but sit in the hotel room. She enjoys London, Paris, Barcelona, Dublin…places where she can walk around and shop mostly uninterrupted, but I understand how touring at home can be grating for anybody. There’s still that select group of fans who haven’t grown out of hanging around at our hotel and at the venue. You can come to the venue, sure, since I’m working when I’m there, but don’t come to my fucking hotel where you know my family will be. Mostly I hate it because there’s nothing I can do about the people who follow us, nothing I can do to stop them yelling shit at my woman and my kid, and very little I can do to make her feel better about the whole thing. Now that I’m out of the hospital I’m guessing shit is going to get much worse. For the past couple of months the only shots they could get were of my family going in and out of the house or the hospital, so every time Beth came out wearing the same jacket and sunglasses with her hair tied back, the less interesting and lucrative it got for them. It’s sad that I feel kind of victorious because of that. I guess they had called it a night when I was finally discharged, they probably assumed Beth would be staying until morning since it was about 3am before we left the building. It was actually kind of eerie to come out in the dead of the night. Smart move on her part, though, she’s just as brainy as I brag that she is.

I’m giving her until the end of the month and if I feel even marginally better, I’m sending her little butt back to work. At least for a couple of days a week, anyway, mostly to stop her becoming a crazy woman, but also because she needs to keep an eye on our interests. The flood damage still isn’t anywhere near being fixed, and I think that has a lot to do with Beth’s absence. Really the manager of that particular store should be able to work with Trace to work shit out but she seems to be incapable of that. I never liked that whiney bitch. So Beth needs to be there to at least delegate. All this back-and-forth shit is doing nothing except losing us more money, and fuck knows we’ve lost enough already from the water damage alone, I don’t even want to hear the numbers we’ve lost in actual business. I mean, I enjoy having her at home, and it’s always easier if she can come with me to the doctor’s office or whatever I have to do, but I can suck it up and go alone or take my mom or Rachael with me.

I would just like to be back into some kind of routine again. Everybody’s trying to keep shit as normal as possible for LJ but it isn’t working so well. I heard the women talking yesterday about enrolling the kid in soccer or baseball or something. It’s a good idea, even if he sucks – which he won’t – it’ll be a good way to integrate him some more. He’s played basketball in school a couple of times but I think they concentrate more on music and drama and shit, which is cool and all, but I’d like him to get involved in something a little rougher, toughen the kid up some. It’s been so long since I actually took him out of the house to do something, I can’t remember the last time. Hopefully in a couple weeks I can take him to a game or whatever, I know he went to that mini golf place with Trace and Elisha, and dad took him to a college basketball game at home last month. Mom offered to take him for another weekend but I told her it wasn’t necessary. I know she loves having him and everything but I’m barely out of the hospital, I want him here.

I feel okay, y’know? Nauseated and not really hungry any time but I haven’t thrown up since yesterday morning, which is definitely a plus, if only because my mouth doesn’t taste like I licked the toilet. That could also have something to do with the constant mouth-washing and teeth-brushing I have to do to try to stop my gums getting infected, but whatever. I definitely can’t say that I look any better than shit yet, but I’m hopeful. Constant fucking headaches mean I’m in bed a lot but that’s okay, I can deal with that if it’s the worst it’s going to get. The boss takes my temperature a couple of times a day and it’s pretty regular which is cool, I guess she’ll be in here soon to take it again, and maybe to sponge bathe me, which really isn’t as sexy as it sounds. There has been little to no sexytime since I’ve been home, I should do something about that. She suggested that I might get to go for a short walk this evening, I wonder which leash she’ll put on me.