ihavebeenfloated

Trista spent the weekend with me. We did really well, probably better than we’ve ever done. It was a great weekend.

We watched Blue Velvet on Saturday. That was kind of nuts. I don’t really see it as being an “excellent” film, and I found myself a little let down that is was far more straight forward than I expected from David Lynch, of whose films I have only previously experienced two, Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive, neither of which I could say I enjoyed so much as fancied from afar in a dark place in my mind. I’d say the first 15 minutes of Blue Velvet are the best of the film, from the beginning credit roll to the police officer telling him to drop it. Dennis Hopper’s parts are great and I found myself wanting to laugh hysterically, but also grimace horribly, at his introductory sequence.

Eraserhead was earlier tonight, a film that made both of us feel relatively ill, Trista the worst of it. I kind of “understood” from the outset, due to my own battles with the horrors of childbirth. I am thankful that I did not see the film before all of that stuff happened, for I may have killed myself.

After Eraserhead I was to take Trista home. It was about one in the morning. Nearly two hours ago now.

We walked out to my car, already spooked and disturbed due to the movie, and as I walked around the front of my car I saw something thick and dark on the hood of my car. In the dark I thought it was a dead bird, but as I moved around it I saw that it was fluid.

I got my flashlight, and not knowing for sure what it might be, I told Trista to get into the car so that she wouldn’t have to see it if it was something horrible.

Turned out to be really thick blue or purple paint. I wiped some off with a napkin and saved it and then rinsed it off. Don’t know how long it was there. (Sometime between 10:00 PM at 1:00 AM.) It was there long enough, however, to dry a bit on my car and now I have a nice stain on the hood.

It wasn’t a splatter, it wasn’t like someone drove by and threw it on my car. It was as if they actually got out of the car and poured it directly onto my hood. I checked my dad’s truck, who was parked literally inches away from the front of my car, and there was nothing. There was no can or bottle around.

There is really only one person I know who could have done this. Someone who has threatened me before.

It’s weird, but I realize this is the first time in my life I will actually have to call the cops on something. Up until this point I’ve just been a kid and people have said they hate me and want to start fights, and if there was a fight, no big deal. But, now I’m an “adult” and I have to do something about it. Someone actually vandalized my car, that’s a big thing, it doesn’t quite register but it does a little. This was a serious thing with actual serious financial implications. I don’t see how someone could do something like this and not register it.

It just makes you jumpy. Trista was all paranoid, telling me to be careful after I dropped her off. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was kind of scared. It makes you wonder, if they’re willing to do something like that, then what else are they willing to do? Do I have to be worried to go outside of my house at night to have a cigarette? Do I have to wonder that I will find my car broken into? Do I have to worry about someone trying to throw something through my bedroom window? Where does it end, really? It might be paranoid but I’m sure anyone who has ever felt attacked by someone, personally and directly, can understand this feeling.

It’s just weird to think about.

Have I really done something to someone to warrant feeling like I am unsafe at my own home?