Violet

 Gia is back in Detroit. Yes, I have been keeping loose tabs on her. She was in Tampa for a while, then she disappeared. I think she was in Rhode Island for a bit, and now she is showing up back in Detroit. No, I am not looking to rekindle anything with her. I understand she isn't capable of that. However, I must admit that I don't like the way things ended.

After a week of debating with myself, I decided to go to the club Saturday night. I hate the fifty-minute drive, but it is like putting on a familiar shoe.

I saw a couple of familiar faces, but Gia was not there. I'm glad in a way. 

I wasn't there long when a cute dancer walked by me. She was heading toward the private rooms. I could tell she was looking for something with one of the bouncers. I gave her a smile and tried to engage her when she walked past me again, but it seemed like she hadn't found what she was after. She gave me a quick smile and kept going.

She came back a few minutes later. She told me she thought she lost her phone, but it ended up being in the dressing room. We started talking She is from Indiana, but move to the area to dance. She has a cute smile. She reminds me a bit of Tinkerbell. 

We ended up talking. She is an artist. Likes to paint. I took her to the private rooms where we continued our conversation. We talked about writing, Legos ourselves. By the end she was eager to exchange numbers. Maybe something will come of it. Either way, it was a good night.

 

Brief

 I signed up for a writer's workshop. It is run by an instructor from UCLA. It is a group composed of 8 writers and the instructor. Over the course of eight weeks, each writer submits twenty pages (twice) for the other members to evaluate.

Thursday was our first meeting. It seems pretty informal. Several of the students have been in prior workshops. My first twenty pages will be reviewed this week, along with those of another student.

Michigan went directly from winter to summer. Spring was not an option. During that instant switch-over, I started this post at least three four times. 

Max started working back at his old job on Monday, and by Wednesday, he was texting me saying it didn't work out. I wanted to scream, "Maybe the common denominator in your inability to hold down a job was him." 

Who quits a job without having another? He obviously needs the money. I don't know what to do anymore. He told me everything else is working for him right now. The last piece is the right job. I feel like a job is the bedrock for everything else to work out. 

Easter, Sort Of

I went to lunch with Max on Easter. He told me he’d just started back at his old job—the one at the company that makes custom walk-in freezers. At least for now, he’s stepping away from trying to make a full-time living painting Warhammer figurines.

He said staying at home was driving him crazy. That stood out to me, because I’ve always been the opposite. I don’t mind being home—I actually find it easier to focus, as long as I have something to work on. Hearing how things played out, it also reinforced my earlier instinct not to financially support his Warhammer venture. It just didn’t feel stable.

So after about a year of doing his own thing, he’s essentially back where he started. The main difference now is that he’s living in a condo his mom owns instead of at home. I have to admit, it’s hard for me to relate to his lack of direction at this stage. When I was younger than he is now, I couldn’t wait to move out. Once I did, I adjusted quickly—even factoring in living with my ex.

I assumed it might be similar for him, especially since he’s living with his girlfriend. Maybe that assumption was off. Maybe they weren’t as prepared for that transition as I thought.

The thing is, I don’t doubt his ability. Max is capable—he’s always been capable. It doesn’t seem like a question of whether he can do something, but whether he can stay focused on it long enough.

He told me before that he is thinking about asking his girlfriend to marry him next year. I just see that as another long-term learning experience he is not ready for.