TRUST

I have been resisting the urge to write about my birthday for a number of reasons:

1. My birthday is that peculiar time of year where my sense of humility mixes uncomfortably with my healthy ego. I find myself wanting to advertise my birthday but nauseated by the fact that I am insecure enough to announce to everyone in earshot that my birthday approaches.

2. I see my birthday as a litmus test. If I don't say anything and someone remembers my birthday, in my mind they pass the test. However, even the best of us (myself included) forget birth dates, and so I have no one but myself to blame if a friend of mine is so preoccupied with their own life that they forgot to wish me well.

3. My self-esteem is damaged enough that sometimes I wish I'd never been born at all. And now, with the added weight of being 31, I am increasingly finding little joy in the passage of time. I mean, I like being in my 30s, but only for the remaining part of the year.

4. I often feel that birthday celebrations are more about the people around you than for the actual birthday person. Many times (this year included) I feel as if I didn't even have to be in the room for everyone else to have a good time.

5. It's been hard to top my 21st birthday year, documented recently in one of my hip-hop posts. That was a lot of fun. I've had some decent runners-up (including a 26th birthday hummer that made my eyes roll in the back of my head) but nothing has ever superceded turning 21 at the exact moment that my band was taking the stage.

So, with all that in mind, let me tell you how it went this year.

Celebrations started Friday, the 21st. I went to work, expecting to hear from Eve later on. I hadn't had a chance to hang out with her one-on-one all that week, even though we'd seen each other a few times. We worked on the cartoon at the shop and I gave her a computer to take home so she could work on certain things; we also went out for dinner on Nona's birthday with Paulie and company. Thursday, I didn't talk to her at all, because she had her acting class to attend.

I called her around 7pm, but she didn't pick up. I decided to call her right before I left work. If I didn't hear from her, I would just go straight to The Garage. Half an hour later, as I was getting ready to leave, I called again. She didn't pick up. I left her a message, telling her where I 'd be.

I got to The Garage, and was greeted with a warm welcome by Paulie and Nona. They had some cool gifts for me: a can of Life Cast, a plaster mold maker used for special effects in horror movies, and three DVDs-- Chappelle's Show First Season, Dr. Strangelove Special Edition, and a double-disc collection of classic B-rated horror movies starring Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Jack Nicholson.

I was feeling good until I realized that Nona and Paulie thought my birthday was that day. When I told them it was the following day, they felt a little awkward. I didn't mean to rain on the parade, but it seems that people can never remember the actual day. They always think it's the 21st or the 23rd. I mean, how hard can it be to remember the 22nd? Two twos? The anal-retentive analytical side of my brain goes crazy pondering it.

I felt even worse when the night progressed and Eve hadn't even called me. Peter, Paulie's brother, gave me a ride home and I checked my messages-- no word from her. This was making me heartsick, because she knew that I was going to be up in Lancaster the following day, and that I wouldn't be around on the weekend. I knew she didn't forget my actual birthday, because she was the one person I'd actually talked to about it. Specifically, I'd told her not to make a big fuss about it.

By "big fuss" I meant that she didn't have to buy me a gift, and I meant that sincerely. However, I was expecting at least a voice mail wishing me well. She didn't have to buy me anything, but the least she could've done was call me.

I figured that maybe she was busy and was planning on calling me the next day. So, with the help of some Xanax, which I've been using the re-adjust to a normal daytime schedule, I got some shuteye.

*/*

The next morning, no call from Eve. I tried phoning her a few times-- no answer. I felt desperate, calling someone on my own birthday to remind them. My insecurity grew, and suddenly it dawned on me that maybe I'd done something wrong. Of course, I'm a guy, so I had NO IDEA what it was that I had done.

Being the overly curious fellow that I am, I wracked my brain trying to figure it out, retracing my steps throughout the week, trying to find a clue. No luck. I left her a message as I stood waiting for the Metrolink, ready to go to the desert to see my family.

That brought upon another depressing thought, revolving around my family. They made the move up to the desert town of Lancaster years ago, and they like it up there. I'm fine with that, but whether or not I have a car, they never make an effort to come down and see me. They never offer to do that. I find myself taking the train on my own birthday to see them. I thought about my hooptie and how it broke down as I was on my way up there, to celebrate my niece's birthday last November. Considering how worthless I was feeling, those thoughts only made it worse.

By now you can probably guess that, for all my bravado and tough talk, I am incredibly sensitive to these types of petty slights. Once those thoughts are in my consciousness, they are remarkably difficult to purge. I probably need counseling or therapy, because these feelings have plagued me all of my life. They influence me on almost every level; hence, my enthusiasm for art-- creating is one of the few instances where I can forget that I often feel insignificant and small.

When I arrived, my younger brother picked me up in his Astrovan. A sense of jealousy ran through me-- I know for a fact he didn't have the money to get the van. My mother, who spoils him rotten because he is the youngest child out of all the children she had with my father, once again deferred to him, because he is a Leo male and therefore extremely self-centered and demanding. No offense to any Leo females out there-- I'm singling out the Leo males because every one of them that I've ever met are insufferably conceited motherfuckers... even my lil' bro, whom I love very much. Leo females tend to be flamboyant but very rarely self-consumed.

Anyway, when I arrived at my mother's house, I was surprised to find that no one was around. My mother was out shopping; my older brother and his wife were coming back from Vegas, a trip they made at the last minute; my stepdad was home, but he was working in the back yard; my younger brothers were around for a bit, but they were ready to go to their friends' houses; and my sister was on her way over.

If I'd known that they were going to be late, I would've taken a later train. I started to feel invisible, like I could've just phoned it in and nothing would've changed. Maybe next year I'll set up a satellite feed, so they can just turn on a TV switch and voila! There I am!

Eventually, my sister showed up, and I felt some much-needed love from my niece Emily. She asked me if it was my birthday and I said "Yes, it is." She gave me a hug and a big kiss, because she likes to celebrate birthdays. At one point, Emily started a play-fight with me, and I accidentally broke the arm of her Barbie doll (in my defense, she was swinging it at me like a mace). The fact that she didn't think anything of it was incredible to me. Of course, I fixed the arm and promised her a new one, but I suspect that Emily is used to breaking the arms off of her Barbie dolls...

Later on, my nephew Michael and his dad showed up-- more love, more happiness. I think the reason why people have children is because they definitely cheer you up when you are feeling down. My nephew made me laugh with his utter cuteness, and I threw him up in the air repeatedly, as he giggled deliriously. My mood started to improve, and I was feeling okay.

A hearty dinner and some cool gifts ensued, after my mother and my older brother showed up. They kept grilling me about who I was seeing, and I started to feel sick again. I tried to explain my situation with Eve, and of course all the typical questions were asked:

"Why didn't you invite her up here?"

"When are you going to settle down and get married?"

"Why do you always push the girls away like that?"

"Doesn't she know it's your birthday?"

I had no answers, only grief. My family mistook my reticence for a wish for privacy and dignity, but the fact is I still didn't know why Eve was avoiding me. If I'd known, at least I could've talked about it with them, but they were too busy ribbing me, thinking that I was just being coy.

Talking with my mother and stepdad after everyone else went home, I realized that my trust issues extended far beyond Eve and anyone else in my life. My mother is a wise woman, and somehow she knew exactly what to say to me, even though I didn't tell her what was bugging me. By the time I was ready to go to sleep (without the aid of Xanax, mind you), I didn't feel so alone and unloved.

I mean, I know people love me and care about me, but try telling that to my fractured emotions. They are always willing to believe the worst.

*/*

The next morning, I woke up early. The night before, in a moment of happiness and weakness, I promised my older brother that I'd go to church with him.

The sermon was cool, but it didn't speak to me until the very end, when the guest pastor informed the congregation that they are never alone and unloved, thanks to Jesus. Now, whether or not you believe in God or Allah or nothing or whatever, it is always remarkable when a sermon taps into my recent thought patterns. Not all sermons have that power-- some of them are as boring as August is hot. Maybe because I was searching for some type of leverage for myself, it made me open to the words of this pastor.

This is the strength of religion, and if you don't need to go to church to feel this way, then more power to you. This was my first church visit since I don't know when, and even though I don't regularly go to Sunday services every week, there are times when a trip to the chapel instills me with a sense of familiarity and perspective.

I spent most of Sunday with my brother and my sister-in-law. While she shopped, my brother and I played video games in an arcade and watched portions of the Eagles/Falcons game on a TV, with all the other men whose wives/girlfriends were busy browsing through the stores.

My older brother and I are very close, and he always knows how to make me feel better. We regress by several years when we get together, and his wife is a really funny and smart person, so her prescence only adds to the vibe.

My father wanted to see me, so my older brother invited him up to his house, so we could all watch the Patriots/Steelers game. There was a solid hour of aggressive politics debating, and it almost got out of hand. Luckily, nothing was said to spoil the moment, and soon we all called a truce and decided to watch the rest of the game.

Before the end of the game, I called Eve one last time. I was going to be back in the Valley soon, and I wanted to see if maybe she was around. This time she picked up (probably because she didn't recognize the number) and gave me a cold response: she was at her father's house, watching the game. She said she wasn't going to be home until late, and that I should call her tomorrow.

I hung up without saying 'goodbye'.

My father drove me home, and I unloaded my gifts and took them inside. In addition to clothes and money, I received an easel and a gift certificate to Michaels art supply store. I checked my messages-- tons of calls from well-wishers, including Sharky, whom I'm supposed to be on the outs with; I called some of them back, depending on the hour, and then Bro Man called and said he was coming through to hang out.

Eve hadn't called me all weekend.

It got so late that I told Bro Man he could crash on the futon in the living room. After downing two beers and smoking countless pipeloads, I still couldn't get to sleep. Another Xanax did the trick.

*/*

Bro Man left in the morning, and I made my way to work. I was feeling incredibly low, wondering what I did to incur Eve's wrath. Work took my mind off of the situation, but finally, after resolving to not call her, I gave in and left a message on her cel phone:

"Hey, it's me. Just calling to see what you're up to. Also, I just want to be honest here-- I know I told you not to do anything for my birthday, and I meant that. But I'm really upset about you not calling me. The least you could've done is left a message while I was out. Maybe you were busy, I don't know... I don't know what I did wrong, but I'm not mad, just very disappointed. Anyway, I guess I'll hear from you whenever you are ready, so I don't know if I will see you later or not. Bye."

She called me back immediately. It turns out that the reason why she was upset at me was because of something I'd said during Nona's birthday dinner. I was asked by Nina, Nona's sister, if I had drawn the cartoon all by myself.

My reply was, "Well, me, Paulie, and Peter." Then I realized that I'd left Eve out, and added, "Eve is helping out as well."

That's what pissed her off.

She told me that she was so upset about being marginalized that she did everything in her power to not rip my head off the following evening, when were at The Garage working. Over the weekend, she talked to her mother and her brother about it, and calmed down enough to speak to me about it rationally.

You see, we've been over this "due credit" thing before, and she gets furious over it because she has been ripped off and patronized for so long that it makes her see red. She has a complex about being perceievd as "arm candy", and I know this because we talked about it when we first met over 13 years ago. Over the years, various employers and collaborators have made her feel like she is "just a girl", a pretty face not to be taken seriously.

"When you said that to Nina," Eve explained, "my heart sank. I mean, if you're not going to speak up for me, then no one will."

I apologized profusely, glad to know what the problem was, relieved that she was still talking to me. I took all the blame for that slip-up on my part. I understood her anger, and suddenly the fact that she didn't call me on my birthday seemed irrelevant.

"Maybe you don't know this," she went on, "but when we are together, no one sees me. They see you, and what you are about. You are the man, you know what I mean? Not like Tarzan-Jane, but more like you are the one who people listen to, the one with the plan. The Man. They don't see me, so in a way I am a part of you-- but not like an appendage or a Siamese twin. I guess what I mean is that I am overshadowed by you, and if you aren't there standing up for me, it makes me feel like I'm just being used, like I'm just some chick that you have around for company's sake. And I will not accept that, not anymore. I spent nine years with someone who made me feel like that. I've spent my whole life, my whole working life, dealing with sexist motherfuckers. I know you are not sexist, James, and I know you care, but it taps into my insecurities when I hear it coming from you. It's not supposed to come from you."

"Eve," I said, "I've tried my hardest to not take you for granted. You should know by now that I wouldn't do that to you. I know, I say stupid things, I make sweeping generalizations and I should probably think before I speak, but I'm trying to work on that. It won't happen overnight but I'm working on it. I'm still learning. Just have faith in me, that I will not leave you in the lurch at the crucial moments." My voice cracked with emotion, and I had to pause in between my sentences to keep from breaking down.

The thing about it is, she has every right to be mad, just as much right as I had to be upset at her not calling me on my birthday. These are issues that seem so petty, so trivial, and yet they mean a world of difference to people like us. In my case, it stems from a lifetime of being ignored in a different sense-- I just spent two blog entries describing my band experiences and how I'm still not taken seriously by people I've played with; in Eve's case, it is a deeper problem, because she is a woman, and women by and large get the short end of the stick, no matter what.

This may sound odd, but this may be the single most important birthday gift I have ever received. Why? Because I know I am a narcissist, and that I have a horrible tendency to make the people in my life feel like they don't matter. If you were to ask any woman who ever cared for me in any sense, platonic or otherwise, they would definitely have at least one story to tell about me where I was so blind, so clueless as to what was really going on that they wanted to strangle me for not knowing the value of a relationship.

It is my Achilles' Heel, my inability to make a woman feel 100% secure, like she can totally trust and rely on me. Normally, women take me to task for those types of screw-ups, making a scene and all that, but when does enough become enough? How many times must I be told how to act before they get exasperated and give up on me?

I told Eve, "You should've said something to me. If you had pointed it out right then and there, everyone else would've agreed with you and put me on the spot. And I would've deserved it, and I would've taken back or amended what I said."

She replied, "That's not the point. We've been over this before, remember? The time you played that gig at the Knitting Factory? You wanted me to videotape the show, and then I overheard you saying to your guitarist that Bro Man was going to do it? It made me feel like you have no trust in my abilities, and it really hurt. And you still didn't get it until later on, when I had to spell it out for you."

"Okay," I said, "I can't promise that it will never happen again, Eve, because half the time I don't even know I'm acting like that. But I will do whatever it takes to remind myself, to watch what I say before I say it. Bad habits die hard with me, but they eventually die, and I just don't want it be too little too late. And I also don't want to seem like I'm kissing your ass either, giving you credit that you didn't earn. I know that annoys you too..."

Eve laughed, a welcome sound to my ears. "Yeah, that's true. But anyway... I'm sorry about all of this, I know it probably seems dumb to you, or stupid... And I'm sorry for not calling you on your birthday."

"It's okay," I said. "And it's not dumb. Now that I know why, I understand."

*/*

I stopped by her place last night. She is momentarily carless-- it's in the shop, due to an accident she got into recently. Last night she told me the damage and repairs would run her close to $2000, which made my jaw drop. So much for our plans to up north this month-- even if I were to fund the adventure myself, she wouldn't have any money left over to make the most of it. I guess we'll have to wait until later on in the year.

We drank, watched DVDs, and smoked. I made an amorous play, but she was too tired to reciprocate. Either that, or she is still trying to teach me a lesson. It was no big thing-- I just waited for her to doze off, then I popped my last Xanax and before long I was in a slight coma.

She woke me this morning and drove me home-- apparently, she has a rental car, but only for a few days. She had failed to mention this to me last night when I took the bus over to her place-- once again, making me pay for my insensitivity.

I don't think it's unfair, though. If I didn't love her, if it weren't for the fact that I have made this mistake with every woman in my life countless times before, if it weren't for the fact that it is a terrible thing to put anyone through, then I guess it wouldn't mean anything to me. But I know what it's like to feel invisible, to feel marginalized and patronized, to feel like my opinion doesn't matter.

In the past, I would just write it off as "crazy bitch drama" but in Eve's case, she didn't make a scene or chew me out. She waited patiently, all the while keeping the anger below the surface. She talked about it with her family, so that she wouldn't lose it when it came time to talk to me. And this is the only demand she has made of me ever since we reconnected. If I can't learn to balance something so simple, then maybe I don't deserve her love, or ANYONE's love.

And, if she didn't love me, it wouldn't have made any difference to her, no?

God, I'm trying, I'm learning every day. I've got a lot of bad habits to break, a lot of patterns to change.

Anyway, that was my birthday weekend. I didn't get everything I wanted, but I did receive something that I really needed. I didn't even know I needed it. And hopefully, I will make the best out of it.

Here's to the future, and all that it holds.