My dad is pushing me back into therapy. He cant make me. I wont go. I dont need to go. I think its so ironic that this is the first time that I am starting to feel healthy, or if not healthy, more like the real Lilith...he thinks there's somthing wrong. Which of course there is. There is so much fucking wrong. But nothing that could be helped by sitting and divulging anything to a complete stranger.
I will not go back. I will not serve.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Photo Friday- "Gray"
Gray being the smoke that ceaselessly flows from by lungs. The effervescent hue of both warmth and betrayal, both a constant presence. Especially amidst early summer days, where the weight of the fog clings to every fiber and thwarts any attempts made towards accomplishing...anything. Anything except more of the all-too-familliar grey smoke that has come to define our being.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
all that's left to do is jump over the moon
Didn't get the job at Urban or the Gap. No worries. I mean...I work a lot already and I'm going to run by Trader Joe's and the UPS store tomorow so I'm sure I'll get somthing.
My brother has a court date a week from Friday. Finally. Except the prosecutor is probably just going to let him off. Which will be absolutly pointless. I mean, if you're dragging the kid to court, the least you could do is charge him with somthing. I don't care if it makes me a bad person for hoping he at least gets probation. Maybe it'll teach him not to be a moron.
I cannot stand this 90 degree weather. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't disgustingly humid. Well..whatever. There's nothing to be done about it really except wear pretty summer dresses and drink lots and lots of frozen drinks.
And I think I'm actually starting to be ok with Michael calling me beautiful. Only him though. ((blushes and giggles like a 12-year old))
I'm going to just get my dad clothes. I have no other ideas. Whatever. He needs casual tops other than teeshirts and he can't dress himself at all. Typical guy.
My brother has a court date a week from Friday. Finally. Except the prosecutor is probably just going to let him off. Which will be absolutly pointless. I mean, if you're dragging the kid to court, the least you could do is charge him with somthing. I don't care if it makes me a bad person for hoping he at least gets probation. Maybe it'll teach him not to be a moron.
I cannot stand this 90 degree weather. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't disgustingly humid. Well..whatever. There's nothing to be done about it really except wear pretty summer dresses and drink lots and lots of frozen drinks.
And I think I'm actually starting to be ok with Michael calling me beautiful. Only him though. ((blushes and giggles like a 12-year old))
I'm going to just get my dad clothes. I have no other ideas. Whatever. He needs casual tops other than teeshirts and he can't dress himself at all. Typical guy.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
brilliant caution
Why I want a cigarette right now:
1. Mike texted me this morning when I was in class, just to tell me he thinks I'm beautiful. If he saw how I looked at that very moment in baggy jeans, a black French Conncetion tee and flipflops...I'm sure he would have disagreed. I can't stand being called beautiful. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and disgusting and fake.
2. My brother, once again, thought it would be fun to practice his right hook on my head while I was passed out. Who doesn't love being woken up to that, I don't know. Best of all, I once again get bitched at for him doing it and have lovley bruses and a cut. At least it makes me look like a badass. Whatever. I was stupid and should have locked my door before I lay down anyways.
3. Today is my Dad's 50th birthday and I forgot till after I bitched at him on the phone this morning. When I realized, I was immediatly like "o fuck!" and called to fake good daughter. But still, it doesn't make it better.
4. Lotus hired four new girls so everyone's hours got slashed. It sucks. None of them even have their bartending lisence so I know as soon as we're working the same time hours I'm going to have to do everything for them.
5. Also with my brother, he thought it'd be fun to steal my cellphone and read through my texts. Most of which were between me and Michael. And because he's a fucking sociopath, my brother decided to read them outloud to all of his friends...all of which are immature shitfaces much like himself. He is why people like me have issues.
6. I compeltely binged over the past two days. And by binge, I mean eat like a normal person. More than just iced tea, wine, vodka, citrus and cucumber, you know. But regardless, now I feel like a fucking heffer and all I want to do is throw up.
7. Dance is tonight and for some reason, my depth perception is messing with me. This means everything I do tonight with distance and spacing is going to be off. So basically I'm going to look like a moron.
8. My exboyfriendexfianceperson is going to my dad's party Sunday. He works now at the bike shop my dad goes to now, and he invited everyone who works there. I maen, he's there enough it's like his second home. But anyways, now Zach is going to be there and I haven't seen him since he decided I am/was too not right for him.
9. (Time for me to be really materialistic...) My new Coach bag gor rained on and even though it's dry now, it has spots. They're really faint but still. Now it's not perfect.
10. Because of my inability to say no to anyone or anything, I agreed to babysit my friend's daughter Friday for the entire afternoon. Except I have workshop Friday morning for two hours and work that night from 10 to close. There goes my time to unwind and start cooking for my Dad's party.
11. I still haven't found my Dad a good birthday gift. I mean, I found some stuff that is ok (clothes from Urban Outfitters, signed & framed portrait of Greg Lamond, a new Camelback water thing for when he bikes...) but nothing that I think says 50th birthday gift.
Yup. Things need to stop sucking. Now, please.
1. Mike texted me this morning when I was in class, just to tell me he thinks I'm beautiful. If he saw how I looked at that very moment in baggy jeans, a black French Conncetion tee and flipflops...I'm sure he would have disagreed. I can't stand being called beautiful. It makes me feel so uncomfortable and disgusting and fake.
2. My brother, once again, thought it would be fun to practice his right hook on my head while I was passed out. Who doesn't love being woken up to that, I don't know. Best of all, I once again get bitched at for him doing it and have lovley bruses and a cut. At least it makes me look like a badass. Whatever. I was stupid and should have locked my door before I lay down anyways.
3. Today is my Dad's 50th birthday and I forgot till after I bitched at him on the phone this morning. When I realized, I was immediatly like "o fuck!" and called to fake good daughter. But still, it doesn't make it better.
4. Lotus hired four new girls so everyone's hours got slashed. It sucks. None of them even have their bartending lisence so I know as soon as we're working the same time hours I'm going to have to do everything for them.
5. Also with my brother, he thought it'd be fun to steal my cellphone and read through my texts. Most of which were between me and Michael. And because he's a fucking sociopath, my brother decided to read them outloud to all of his friends...all of which are immature shitfaces much like himself. He is why people like me have issues.
6. I compeltely binged over the past two days. And by binge, I mean eat like a normal person. More than just iced tea, wine, vodka, citrus and cucumber, you know. But regardless, now I feel like a fucking heffer and all I want to do is throw up.
7. Dance is tonight and for some reason, my depth perception is messing with me. This means everything I do tonight with distance and spacing is going to be off. So basically I'm going to look like a moron.
8. My exboyfriendexfianceperson is going to my dad's party Sunday. He works now at the bike shop my dad goes to now, and he invited everyone who works there. I maen, he's there enough it's like his second home. But anyways, now Zach is going to be there and I haven't seen him since he decided I am/was too not right for him.
9. (Time for me to be really materialistic...) My new Coach bag gor rained on and even though it's dry now, it has spots. They're really faint but still. Now it's not perfect.
10. Because of my inability to say no to anyone or anything, I agreed to babysit my friend's daughter Friday for the entire afternoon. Except I have workshop Friday morning for two hours and work that night from 10 to close. There goes my time to unwind and start cooking for my Dad's party.
11. I still haven't found my Dad a good birthday gift. I mean, I found some stuff that is ok (clothes from Urban Outfitters, signed & framed portrait of Greg Lamond, a new Camelback water thing for when he bikes...) but nothing that I think says 50th birthday gift.
Yup. Things need to stop sucking. Now, please.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
forgive
And I thought I had issues. Not at all...but I'm not talking about the mental ones right now. I got a call from one of my friends, Zimmie at 230 this morning. He was seconds away from killing himself. He didnt. But damn. It was close.
Lets just start with the fact that his mother was given six months to live. Last stage lukemia, breast cancer and brain cancer. She is going to die and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Aside from the whole parent dying thing, Zim's family is his whole world. If you ask him who or what he wants to be, he'll say his parents.
And definatly not as bad by any way, shape or form...Zim retore his miniscus so he can't play soccer this season. And his first ever serious girlfriend broke up with him. She was a fake whore.
God. I don't even care about my issues anymore. He has much much more important, real things to worry about.
Lets just start with the fact that his mother was given six months to live. Last stage lukemia, breast cancer and brain cancer. She is going to die and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Aside from the whole parent dying thing, Zim's family is his whole world. If you ask him who or what he wants to be, he'll say his parents.
And definatly not as bad by any way, shape or form...Zim retore his miniscus so he can't play soccer this season. And his first ever serious girlfriend broke up with him. She was a fake whore.
God. I don't even care about my issues anymore. He has much much more important, real things to worry about.
Monday, June 25, 2007
still vandal
The CNN 5am weatherpeople are now officially on my shitlist. In the mornings, I wake up around 450, have coffee and check the weather before getting changed to run...especially if I'm doing a loooong run and I know I'm going to be out for a while. Anyways, this morning they **said** it wasn't going to get past the low 80s till noon so I tossed on a hoodie for my run, thinking I'd be chilly with it being 5am and all. Yeah...not so much. By the end of the first hour of my run I was disgusting. So screw you CNN weatherpeople for getting the forecast wrong and making me feel mcnasty this morning.
My nose has been itching crazylots today. Isnt it like if your nose itches, people are talking about you or somthing? Not that I'm one to worry about that sort of thing...
My dad's 50th birthday party is Sunday and I have NO idea what to get him. I'm probably going to end up asking one of his friends or somthing. It's not like I speak to him to the point where I'd have any idea what to get him for his birthday. He's impossible to shop for...he has everything. I might just pay for a week in Vegas for him and my stepmom or somthing. Hell...not only would he probably like that but it's also get him off my back. Yeah sorry, I'm selfish.
Michael needs to stop telling me that he thinks I'm beautiful. I don't care if he or anyone else thinks it's true, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to be complimented on my physical attributes. But I mean...I'm not gonna tell him not to do it. I don't want or need to give him another reason to think I'm insane.
My nose has been itching crazylots today. Isnt it like if your nose itches, people are talking about you or somthing? Not that I'm one to worry about that sort of thing...
My dad's 50th birthday party is Sunday and I have NO idea what to get him. I'm probably going to end up asking one of his friends or somthing. It's not like I speak to him to the point where I'd have any idea what to get him for his birthday. He's impossible to shop for...he has everything. I might just pay for a week in Vegas for him and my stepmom or somthing. Hell...not only would he probably like that but it's also get him off my back. Yeah sorry, I'm selfish.
Michael needs to stop telling me that he thinks I'm beautiful. I don't care if he or anyone else thinks it's true, it makes me extremely uncomfortable to be complimented on my physical attributes. But I mean...I'm not gonna tell him not to do it. I don't want or need to give him another reason to think I'm insane.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
stolen
I think I want to become a professional bellydancer! No...I'm not that crazy, but for a while after last night, I was seriously considering it. I can't remember the last time I had so much fun. Seriously...there is nothing I don't love about dance. I mean, we get costumes, get to play with swords, wings and zills (finger cymbols). And its so good for core strength, which is awesome. Yeah, I've only been doing it for a few weeks but even still I'm starting to see my endurance go up with running and such. But yeah so I met some really cool people from other studios. More than anything though, it was interesting to see the diversity amoungst the dancers. Like Orlit, she's Iraqi and came over before Bush decided to throw our troops under the bus. I started talking to Andrea, who runs Empire Dance in the city. I mean, we sort of knew eachother before from bunheadland but we never really talked. She bailed right after me and is now teaching bellydance six times a week at Empire, all drop-in classes. I might have to show up to one of her classes. I love my instructor and the girls I dance with but I think it'd be interesting to at least experiance another instructor to see how they differ styilistically.
My brother's therapist wants me to come in. Family session or whatever, I guess. I'm not going though. Not to spite him or my parents or anything, but they pretty much ruined any possibility of me ever speaking to a therapist by forcing me into it. And I'm completly against my brother going to a therapist to begin with. I don't think he needs it. Fuck him having a drug "problem". His only problem is that he is a self-indulgent little brat who has been coddeled his entire life and has never seen any consequences or given limits. And now he's just seeing how far he can run with that. Not to mention both my parents blaming his issues on my "destructive, concieted presence". Screw them all. My parents think I'm the bad one for leaving but they gave me no choice. They're mad because they couldn't break me then, nor can they now. I will not bow down to them. I don't care what they think or say. I have nothing to prove to them. I don't care if they think I'm going to Hell for being assertive. Shit, if there is one (which I'm not too sure there is), I'd rather be reigning in Hell than serving in Heaven.
One of my friends, Shawn, really pissed me off earlier today. Just randomly he says that I look innocent. Seriously. Who says that? I am anything but. I am not fragile or undamaged. And Shawn knows half the shit I've been through cuz he's been right there with me. Screw innocence, I'll take fearless and strong, fuck you very much.
My brother's therapist wants me to come in. Family session or whatever, I guess. I'm not going though. Not to spite him or my parents or anything, but they pretty much ruined any possibility of me ever speaking to a therapist by forcing me into it. And I'm completly against my brother going to a therapist to begin with. I don't think he needs it. Fuck him having a drug "problem". His only problem is that he is a self-indulgent little brat who has been coddeled his entire life and has never seen any consequences or given limits. And now he's just seeing how far he can run with that. Not to mention both my parents blaming his issues on my "destructive, concieted presence". Screw them all. My parents think I'm the bad one for leaving but they gave me no choice. They're mad because they couldn't break me then, nor can they now. I will not bow down to them. I don't care what they think or say. I have nothing to prove to them. I don't care if they think I'm going to Hell for being assertive. Shit, if there is one (which I'm not too sure there is), I'd rather be reigning in Hell than serving in Heaven.
One of my friends, Shawn, really pissed me off earlier today. Just randomly he says that I look innocent. Seriously. Who says that? I am anything but. I am not fragile or undamaged. And Shawn knows half the shit I've been through cuz he's been right there with me. Screw innocence, I'll take fearless and strong, fuck you very much.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
je veux que me vous ayez voulu
Since Y camp is totally out of the picture, I went job hunting **again** yesterday. I know I work too much but I really could use the money. Plus... this way I won't have to work as much in the fall at school. Cuz damn, I need to do much better so the grad school thing can still happen. Anyways, I applied yesterday at Urban Outfitters and the Gap. I would LOVE to work at Urban, disregarding the fantastic employee discount, it's such a chill vibe in the store. Like when I went in yesterday, they were playing DivineMAGees and I was like woah...cuz about 50 people know them. Good music, good clothes...definatly my place. Gap would work too...I mean it's not as fun but I wear a lot of their stuff for work or when I need to fake the adult thing. And kudos to them for promoting Bono's RED campaign. Hell, I don't care if people are just buying the RED clothes because **everybody** is, either way the money goes to the organization.
Tonight is going to be really fun! I'm going out with my dance group for drinks then we're going to an open dance showcase/workshop thing. I think that it'll be good for us to just chill out of class, get to know each other a bit...so when we start putting together our performance pieces, we'll have a better idea of everyone's comfort level. I mean, I know once I get the basics down, I'll be comfortable with almost anything cuz that's just how I am. But I know Janet hates doing floorwork because of her knee issues. But not only things like that, I think we'll be able to see who is gregarious and not so much, so we don't put someone really shy in the center.
Mike is coming up next weekend to visit. Yay. I think all I really want right now is the security of a relationship. Hopefully I can find it in him...he's amazing. But with that, I know he's too good for me. Which sucks. Damn.
Tonight is going to be really fun! I'm going out with my dance group for drinks then we're going to an open dance showcase/workshop thing. I think that it'll be good for us to just chill out of class, get to know each other a bit...so when we start putting together our performance pieces, we'll have a better idea of everyone's comfort level. I mean, I know once I get the basics down, I'll be comfortable with almost anything cuz that's just how I am. But I know Janet hates doing floorwork because of her knee issues. But not only things like that, I think we'll be able to see who is gregarious and not so much, so we don't put someone really shy in the center.
Mike is coming up next weekend to visit. Yay. I think all I really want right now is the security of a relationship. Hopefully I can find it in him...he's amazing. But with that, I know he's too good for me. Which sucks. Damn.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
crazy angel
Let me just start by saying that dance last night was amazing. I was SO on. I don't know what it is, but during my first classes back in bunheadland, I was told to dance how I feel and I guess that has just stayed with me. Because last night, I felt nothing more than extremely vindictive...and I guess that worked because DAMN I looked good out there.
Mike and I are a thing, I think. During yet another one of our marathon phone calls, he let me know that he's not seeing anyone else. Which is always nice to hear. I'm going down to visit him the weekend after July 4th. Yay. Last night when we were talking, I literally fell asleep on the phone with him for a minute...I'm just that relaxed around him. Hopefully this will work out. I mean, we work so well together that as of now, I don't see how it cant be a good thing.
I don't know if I'm going to go back to school in the fall. I think, maybe, I just want to take some time off and do Europe or somthing. I mean, if I go back though, I guess I'm just going to have to isolate myself from the Hood drama crap that got me into trouble last semester.
Tonight should be hilarious, first dinner with my Father and his family. Then work till last call & close. Then crashing up at my dad's place. P.S. my dad's a jerk. And its going to be really funny when he finds out I got fired from the Y.
Whatever. I really don't care anymore.
Mike and I are a thing, I think. During yet another one of our marathon phone calls, he let me know that he's not seeing anyone else. Which is always nice to hear. I'm going down to visit him the weekend after July 4th. Yay. Last night when we were talking, I literally fell asleep on the phone with him for a minute...I'm just that relaxed around him. Hopefully this will work out. I mean, we work so well together that as of now, I don't see how it cant be a good thing.
I don't know if I'm going to go back to school in the fall. I think, maybe, I just want to take some time off and do Europe or somthing. I mean, if I go back though, I guess I'm just going to have to isolate myself from the Hood drama crap that got me into trouble last semester.
Tonight should be hilarious, first dinner with my Father and his family. Then work till last call & close. Then crashing up at my dad's place. P.S. my dad's a jerk. And its going to be really funny when he finds out I got fired from the Y.
Whatever. I really don't care anymore.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
fuck this
So I just got back from a meeting at the Y and I got fired.
I guess it started last week when I came in all brused up because of my brother finding it acceptable to use my head/face as a punching bag. I got questioned then by my unit director, the assistant camp director and the camp director. But in true Lilith fashion, I play it off like it was nothing. I mean, I don't want them thinking that I'm a big ball of drama or anything (ok, so I am, but they don't need to know that).
But then yesterday, it was really hot out so I wore a teeshirt (which I usually never ever ever do) and some of the directors I guess noticed my scars on my forearms and the tops of my palms. Which, admittingly, look kind of suspicious. But noone mentioned anything to me so I just thought they either didn't see --it's not like I was showing them off or anything...I mean, I'm not proud of them (actually quite the opposite)-- so I just leave after training.
And then I got a phone call around noon from my unit director asking me to come in immediatly. At this point, I'm kind of questioning what's up but I go in anyways. I guess I thought she just wanted to go over lesson plans or somthing. Ha. I wish. I walk into her office and she's there along with the asst director and camp director. They ask to see my arms, which we're clearly visable cuz once again because of the heat I wore a tee shirt. And then the questions began. Just the usual: how often, when, why...that sort of crap. While being extremly selective with my wording, I tell them that I used to have a problem when I was younger and that I haven't had issue in a while (ok, so I have, but once again...none of their buisness). And then...to top it off, after making me spill my guts, I get fired for possibly being a negative influence on the campers. Such bullshit. It's not like I'm going to encourage them to go out, buy a knife and start carving away at their arms.
Whatever. This sucks. Majourly. I was pretty excited for camp too. Yeah, I'm not usually a fan of the kids but I wanted to see what it was all about. And I really wanted to work chic empowerment camp. Not to mention that over the past few weeks I've gotten way too friendly with my credit card company's collection agency and the paycheck was supposed to help remedy said situation.
I guess I can just keep working at Lotus, maybe **hopefully** take on some more hours. And focus more on the pieces I'm working on for my writing workshops. And get ready for the dance showcase in July.
Plus, I probably would have been the worst counselor anyways.
I guess it started last week when I came in all brused up because of my brother finding it acceptable to use my head/face as a punching bag. I got questioned then by my unit director, the assistant camp director and the camp director. But in true Lilith fashion, I play it off like it was nothing. I mean, I don't want them thinking that I'm a big ball of drama or anything (ok, so I am, but they don't need to know that).
But then yesterday, it was really hot out so I wore a teeshirt (which I usually never ever ever do) and some of the directors I guess noticed my scars on my forearms and the tops of my palms. Which, admittingly, look kind of suspicious. But noone mentioned anything to me so I just thought they either didn't see --it's not like I was showing them off or anything...I mean, I'm not proud of them (actually quite the opposite)-- so I just leave after training.
And then I got a phone call around noon from my unit director asking me to come in immediatly. At this point, I'm kind of questioning what's up but I go in anyways. I guess I thought she just wanted to go over lesson plans or somthing. Ha. I wish. I walk into her office and she's there along with the asst director and camp director. They ask to see my arms, which we're clearly visable cuz once again because of the heat I wore a tee shirt. And then the questions began. Just the usual: how often, when, why...that sort of crap. While being extremly selective with my wording, I tell them that I used to have a problem when I was younger and that I haven't had issue in a while (ok, so I have, but once again...none of their buisness). And then...to top it off, after making me spill my guts, I get fired for possibly being a negative influence on the campers. Such bullshit. It's not like I'm going to encourage them to go out, buy a knife and start carving away at their arms.
Whatever. This sucks. Majourly. I was pretty excited for camp too. Yeah, I'm not usually a fan of the kids but I wanted to see what it was all about. And I really wanted to work chic empowerment camp. Not to mention that over the past few weeks I've gotten way too friendly with my credit card company's collection agency and the paycheck was supposed to help remedy said situation.
I guess I can just keep working at Lotus, maybe **hopefully** take on some more hours. And focus more on the pieces I'm working on for my writing workshops. And get ready for the dance showcase in July.
Plus, I probably would have been the worst counselor anyways.
dial mighty
I'm kind of bummed right now. Mainly cuz I was only told last night at training that I have to swim test by tonight. No big deal, right. Except that after last week, I went a little emo on my legs and upper arm. Whoops. Nothing new though. But not only are they still visable but they're also still pretty raw and I'm guessing aren't going to feel so hot in chlorine. And I haven't done the bathing suit thing in a while in public. Not that I'm extrememly uncomfortable with how I look...but I'm extremely uncomfortable with how I look. Right now though, I'm betting on a self-tanner coverup to help me out. So hopefully that will help a little. Maybe. But probably not.
Mike and I had another marthon chat fest last night. It's really bad. I think I'm falling for him. Again. And it's really hard because he's in Daytona Beach and I'm up here. I mean though, last night was really great, just talking to him and all. He puts me at complete ease...it's almost like I don't have to censor myself with him. He's really nonjudgemental. And I think because we've both had to put up with so much, at home and otherwise, that it erradicates the need to stay to the "safe" topics. I don't know. And even if nothing happens, which is probably wont, Mike's just a really cool guy to talk to.
I have exams next week and then I will **hopefully** never have to take science ever again. Not that I'm not a fan of it or anything, but I'm just not good at it, nor do I understand most of it. I mean, I can deal with the environmental stuff but only because in high school I took Earth Science, Climatology and Geology. But this chem stuff is killing me. Whatever. I'm good at memorization and if anything, that's going to get me through this exam. I did pretty decent on the midterm with a 89%, my lab average is an 88% and my paper average is a 97% so if I get an 85% or better I think I can keep a high B. Which is really all I expected, not being at all interested in the course and all.
I'm kind of excited for Friday. It's my first real payday from the Y. Yay for money and being able to start working paying down my credit card bills.
P.S. being in debt sucks. Majourly.
Mike and I had another marthon chat fest last night. It's really bad. I think I'm falling for him. Again. And it's really hard because he's in Daytona Beach and I'm up here. I mean though, last night was really great, just talking to him and all. He puts me at complete ease...it's almost like I don't have to censor myself with him. He's really nonjudgemental. And I think because we've both had to put up with so much, at home and otherwise, that it erradicates the need to stay to the "safe" topics. I don't know. And even if nothing happens, which is probably wont, Mike's just a really cool guy to talk to.
I have exams next week and then I will **hopefully** never have to take science ever again. Not that I'm not a fan of it or anything, but I'm just not good at it, nor do I understand most of it. I mean, I can deal with the environmental stuff but only because in high school I took Earth Science, Climatology and Geology. But this chem stuff is killing me. Whatever. I'm good at memorization and if anything, that's going to get me through this exam. I did pretty decent on the midterm with a 89%, my lab average is an 88% and my paper average is a 97% so if I get an 85% or better I think I can keep a high B. Which is really all I expected, not being at all interested in the course and all.
I'm kind of excited for Friday. It's my first real payday from the Y. Yay for money and being able to start working paying down my credit card bills.
P.S. being in debt sucks. Majourly.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
whisperspin
Last night. Fantastic. I don't think I've ever had such a buzz in my entire life. Not to say it wasn't extremly petrifying and one of my friends had to practically shove me onto the stage area place thing. But it was so liberating once I was up there. I mean, it was kind of surreal. I felt like I was just reading in my room or in class or to the **very** few people I share my work with. So amazing....
Andrew came to the reading. I still don't know how to feel about it. We ended up going out for a few beers after and just talked. He says he wants to get back together. But I don't know. I don't know what I want. We decided though, regardless of if we do or don't, we're going to stay friends. Which I guess is important, not to mention kind of weird for us to decide. I mean, after all the shit I put him through and he tried to pull on me. But whatever. Part of me wants to be with Mike. I just wish he would tell me what he wants, stop leaving me guessing, you know? I think I just wan't the security of knowing what is going on, either way.
Anyways. Camp starts Monday. Or rather one of the two camps I'm working at. First month is an afternoon camp that runs concurrently with the morning program run through the Westfield Workshop for the Arts. And then I have two weeks of chic empowerment camp. For the first camp though, I have to make up lesson plans for each day. Kind of hard, I mean, I have no idea what a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds are going to want to do for six hours. I think I'm going to stick to the staples for the first week, you know-- soccer, SPUD, kickball, assassin, walks to the playground at the park. And then afterwards, the junior counselor for my group and I can reassess. Ha. How crazy is that? Even though I've never done the camp counselor thing, I get placed as a senior counselor. As in, I'm in charge!
I also really want to tie-dye with the kids. I think that'd be really fun. Especially when one of our Friday "Theme Days" is 1960s. I don't care if they get messy, that's half the fun. I guess I could just send out a letter to the parents of my group the week before, letting them know that's what the plan is and tell them not to dress the kids in anything they don't want multcolured after the fact.
For leadership camp though, I have no real idea of what I want to do. I'm thinking the last afternoon, because we're right by the Apalacian Trail, I want to do a big hike up there and watch the sunset just to reflect once we're up there. There's this one part of the trail for camp around 3 or 4 miles down that is completly void of trees, just the most white slate rock I've ever seen and an amazing view to accompany it. And I want to start out every morning doing yoga with the girls on the quad outside the cabins. I definatly want to do an afternoon of self-defence and violence against women awareness. And maybe a poetry reading one night around the campfire. Maybe. I don't know.
Andrew came to the reading. I still don't know how to feel about it. We ended up going out for a few beers after and just talked. He says he wants to get back together. But I don't know. I don't know what I want. We decided though, regardless of if we do or don't, we're going to stay friends. Which I guess is important, not to mention kind of weird for us to decide. I mean, after all the shit I put him through and he tried to pull on me. But whatever. Part of me wants to be with Mike. I just wish he would tell me what he wants, stop leaving me guessing, you know? I think I just wan't the security of knowing what is going on, either way.
Anyways. Camp starts Monday. Or rather one of the two camps I'm working at. First month is an afternoon camp that runs concurrently with the morning program run through the Westfield Workshop for the Arts. And then I have two weeks of chic empowerment camp. For the first camp though, I have to make up lesson plans for each day. Kind of hard, I mean, I have no idea what a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds are going to want to do for six hours. I think I'm going to stick to the staples for the first week, you know-- soccer, SPUD, kickball, assassin, walks to the playground at the park. And then afterwards, the junior counselor for my group and I can reassess. Ha. How crazy is that? Even though I've never done the camp counselor thing, I get placed as a senior counselor. As in, I'm in charge!
I also really want to tie-dye with the kids. I think that'd be really fun. Especially when one of our Friday "Theme Days" is 1960s. I don't care if they get messy, that's half the fun. I guess I could just send out a letter to the parents of my group the week before, letting them know that's what the plan is and tell them not to dress the kids in anything they don't want multcolured after the fact.
For leadership camp though, I have no real idea of what I want to do. I'm thinking the last afternoon, because we're right by the Apalacian Trail, I want to do a big hike up there and watch the sunset just to reflect once we're up there. There's this one part of the trail for camp around 3 or 4 miles down that is completly void of trees, just the most white slate rock I've ever seen and an amazing view to accompany it. And I want to start out every morning doing yoga with the girls on the quad outside the cabins. I definatly want to do an afternoon of self-defence and violence against women awareness. And maybe a poetry reading one night around the campfire. Maybe. I don't know.
Monday, June 18, 2007
river, river
I have the reading nine hours from now. I'm scared out of my mind. I mean, I know once I get up there I'll be fine. It's just the wait that's killing me right now. If anything though, I'm ok with the pieces I'm doing. I think that'll help.
Mike and I had a big talk last night. And everything is good. He said he just freaked out when he read my work. I don't know if that was quite my intended reaction, but I really will take any reaction other then the nausiatingly fake "Like wow. That was sooo super good!" crap I always get.
I invited my parents to the reading, as a gesture of goodwill, I guess. They're not coming. I didn't really expect them to, but it would have been nice to know that they we're planning on coming. But I mean, their absence is one less thing for me to freak out over. Which is always appreciated.
I got these really cool contacts the other day that make my eye look all white. Like no iris or pupil or any thing. Just white. Is it bad that I love that they make me look like a zombie? I think I'm just way too amused by them.
I need to have another garage sale soon, down at my mother's house. I think this one is going to suck more, just because the things I need to get rid of are from when I was a kid. And that's always hard. Not that I still have my stuffed animals in my room or anything... only Eeyore and my Mike bear (the night before Mike deployed for the desert, he showed up at my door with a huge black teddy bear wearing a white beater and a set of his dog tags and he sprayed it with Curve for Men so it smelled like him. It still lives on the bench at the end of my bed.)
I guess I'm just selfish. I keep saying I need to purge myself from my past, including anything that was with me back then, but I refuse to let go. Sad but true.
Mike and I had a big talk last night. And everything is good. He said he just freaked out when he read my work. I don't know if that was quite my intended reaction, but I really will take any reaction other then the nausiatingly fake "Like wow. That was sooo super good!" crap I always get.
I invited my parents to the reading, as a gesture of goodwill, I guess. They're not coming. I didn't really expect them to, but it would have been nice to know that they we're planning on coming. But I mean, their absence is one less thing for me to freak out over. Which is always appreciated.
I got these really cool contacts the other day that make my eye look all white. Like no iris or pupil or any thing. Just white. Is it bad that I love that they make me look like a zombie? I think I'm just way too amused by them.
I need to have another garage sale soon, down at my mother's house. I think this one is going to suck more, just because the things I need to get rid of are from when I was a kid. And that's always hard. Not that I still have my stuffed animals in my room or anything... only Eeyore and my Mike bear (the night before Mike deployed for the desert, he showed up at my door with a huge black teddy bear wearing a white beater and a set of his dog tags and he sprayed it with Curve for Men so it smelled like him. It still lives on the bench at the end of my bed.)
I guess I'm just selfish. I keep saying I need to purge myself from my past, including anything that was with me back then, but I refuse to let go. Sad but true.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
feist heist
I hate Father's Day. Enough said.
Some people in my writing class and I are doing readings at a coffeehouse tomorrow night. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless. I can't stand performing my own work, especially when most of it is so personal. I haven't yet figured out how to create somthing worth reading, while at the same time isolating myself from the piece. I guess that, like the confidence to do a public reading (even in an informal setting), will come with time and practice.
I'm 100000% over dealing with my family. As of now, I'm just living with them, that's it. I can't stand the constant battle for my autonomy. It's exhausting and quite frankly, I don't care anymore. It's not worth the fight. Regardless of what they say, I am my own person and it's their fault if they refuse to recognize it.
On my run earlier, I saw one of those annoying, rat infested ice-cream trucks that kids flock to laying on it's side in the middle of the road. I guess it got into some sort of accident or somthing and because it's so boxy, it tipped over. No true loss there. I think they had it coming, that music is a glutton for a beating. Numerous, actually.
Some people in my writing class and I are doing readings at a coffeehouse tomorrow night. Needless to say, I'm scared shitless. I can't stand performing my own work, especially when most of it is so personal. I haven't yet figured out how to create somthing worth reading, while at the same time isolating myself from the piece. I guess that, like the confidence to do a public reading (even in an informal setting), will come with time and practice.
I'm 100000% over dealing with my family. As of now, I'm just living with them, that's it. I can't stand the constant battle for my autonomy. It's exhausting and quite frankly, I don't care anymore. It's not worth the fight. Regardless of what they say, I am my own person and it's their fault if they refuse to recognize it.
On my run earlier, I saw one of those annoying, rat infested ice-cream trucks that kids flock to laying on it's side in the middle of the road. I guess it got into some sort of accident or somthing and because it's so boxy, it tipped over. No true loss there. I think they had it coming, that music is a glutton for a beating. Numerous, actually.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
a wish
New rule...I need to not crush on people I know I can never get. I think I'm starting to realize that I've crushed so many times and done a lot of stupid things to try to make said person like me...and it's never worked out in my favor. Which really sucks.
I mean, even now...I can't get Mike out of my head. Its weird though. We have such a weird dynamic that I almost don't want it to be anything more because I don't want to screw up what we have. But then...what if? What if we could be somthing more and I don't go for it? What if he's the one and I let him go? Then I'm just screwed.
And I don't even know if he likes me. I know I sound like a thirteen year old but I don't care. I'm just not the person to be upfront and let someone know that I'm into them. I guess because I don't want to have to deal with rejection. And I'm shy as hell. But whatever.
I'm just so exahusted. Not even just from stressing about this but everything. I had a yard sale today in an attempt to continue purging the things I've accumliated and don't need at all (I mean, who really needs 10 couches?) and damn...they're a lot of work. Having to barter and be all friendly and such...not really my thing. Especially when I had work last night at Lotus. Which, by the way, I love.
Tomorrow is Father's Day and my step-cousin's birthday party and Rainna's divorceaversary. So I'm doing the brunch thing in the morning with Dad, Chella's party in the afternoon then getting hammered with Rainna tomorrow night. I can't believe it's been three years since she got divorced. I mean, yeah she got married way to young to an asshole. But whatever. At least now I have my drinking buddy back. Seriously. This girl and I are dangerous together when we go out. We can drink anyone and everyone under the table. We're just classy like that.
I miss school people. I feel bad that I haven't been down to Mayland to visit anyone but between classes, my writing program, camp and work...I have no time. At least some of my rockstars are coming up first weekend in August.
Sigh. C'est la vie.
I mean, even now...I can't get Mike out of my head. Its weird though. We have such a weird dynamic that I almost don't want it to be anything more because I don't want to screw up what we have. But then...what if? What if we could be somthing more and I don't go for it? What if he's the one and I let him go? Then I'm just screwed.
And I don't even know if he likes me. I know I sound like a thirteen year old but I don't care. I'm just not the person to be upfront and let someone know that I'm into them. I guess because I don't want to have to deal with rejection. And I'm shy as hell. But whatever.
I'm just so exahusted. Not even just from stressing about this but everything. I had a yard sale today in an attempt to continue purging the things I've accumliated and don't need at all (I mean, who really needs 10 couches?) and damn...they're a lot of work. Having to barter and be all friendly and such...not really my thing. Especially when I had work last night at Lotus. Which, by the way, I love.
Tomorrow is Father's Day and my step-cousin's birthday party and Rainna's divorceaversary. So I'm doing the brunch thing in the morning with Dad, Chella's party in the afternoon then getting hammered with Rainna tomorrow night. I can't believe it's been three years since she got divorced. I mean, yeah she got married way to young to an asshole. But whatever. At least now I have my drinking buddy back. Seriously. This girl and I are dangerous together when we go out. We can drink anyone and everyone under the table. We're just classy like that.
I miss school people. I feel bad that I haven't been down to Mayland to visit anyone but between classes, my writing program, camp and work...I have no time. At least some of my rockstars are coming up first weekend in August.
Sigh. C'est la vie.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Photo Friday: Active
I was feeling pretty out of it earlier so I bought myself a new present. I got the Leica D-Lux 3 and I swear it's my new baby. I adore it. It's pretty tiny but still 10 megapixels so I'm getting really good quality shots.
Anyways, I took this shot earlier while making a batch of sweet potato french fries for my stepbrother. I really like the contrast of the orange against the silver of the pan and the white of the stovetop. Not to mention the movement captured of the oil up over in the pan.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
trapt mercy
"Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."- Sylvia Plath
Whatever. I don't care anymore. I can't stand myself. I bring all of my issues upon myself and then I freak out when it becomes too much to handle. It's pathetic, really. I put on the "fuck you, I'm awesome and can take care of myself" facade every morning when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers because I'm petrified of what the day holds. I'm scared that I might actually live.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to try and out myself. It's just that it's tough. Especially when you realize you're not as strong as you thought. And you have no idea what you are going to do with your life.
And it's exhausting, the paralytic indecision. Constantly jumping from one plan to another. One day planning on starting a non-profit, the next-moving to Europe and writing and the day after-dropping it all and starting from scratch. Do I go back to the guy who cheated on me and said I am impossible to love? Do I wait and see what happens with the guy who thinks I'm psycotic? Or do I finally admit to myself that I might actually be able to survive without seeing someone for a while? You have all of these questions dragging you in every direction till you collapse.
They lied. There is nothing beautiful in or about the breakdown. Unless you like that sort of thing. Then by all means, go ahead and watch.
I'm a trainwreck in slow-motion and you just can't tear your eyes away as I go down.
Whatever. I don't care anymore. I can't stand myself. I bring all of my issues upon myself and then I freak out when it becomes too much to handle. It's pathetic, really. I put on the "fuck you, I'm awesome and can take care of myself" facade every morning when all I want to do is crawl back under the covers because I'm petrified of what the day holds. I'm scared that I might actually live.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not about to try and out myself. It's just that it's tough. Especially when you realize you're not as strong as you thought. And you have no idea what you are going to do with your life.
And it's exhausting, the paralytic indecision. Constantly jumping from one plan to another. One day planning on starting a non-profit, the next-moving to Europe and writing and the day after-dropping it all and starting from scratch. Do I go back to the guy who cheated on me and said I am impossible to love? Do I wait and see what happens with the guy who thinks I'm psycotic? Or do I finally admit to myself that I might actually be able to survive without seeing someone for a while? You have all of these questions dragging you in every direction till you collapse.
They lied. There is nothing beautiful in or about the breakdown. Unless you like that sort of thing. Then by all means, go ahead and watch.
I'm a trainwreck in slow-motion and you just can't tear your eyes away as I go down.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
avalon
Today needs to end immediatly.
Dance tonight was horrible. Or rather I was horrible. I can't get out of the ballet mindset and just let go. Everything I do is so rigid. And you can tell that I have a ballet background because of how I hold myself and my turnout and everyone expects me to be good. Tonight was only my second bellydance class ever. Yeah I understand what we're supposed to be working on but I can't get it. And the really sad thing is that I really am trying.
So I came home afterwards feeling completly dejected and as I walk in the door, somthing hits me. Or rather someone. My younger brother found it nessasary to start using my head as a punching bag. Not so much fun, let me tell you. I mean, I can hold my own but not when I'm hit out of nowhere and then punched in both eyes and temples pretty damn hard over and over. Best of all, my mother sees it happen and laughs at me, congradulates him then blames me for being brused. Yeah. It's my fault that he's agressive and I bring it upon myself. God. This is why I can't live here.
And now I have two black eyes, bruses all over my forhead and the side of my face. Not to mention the lovley crimson trail I carved across the tops of my thighs, indirectly caused but completly triggered by the actions of earlier all coming together. It's the perfect trigger trifecta; my making an ass out of myself in dance, getting the crap beaten out of me by a fifteen year old and then being blamed for it by someone other then myself. But anyways, now I look like more of a disaster then before, which I don't think is going to go over so well at training for camp tomorrow. I'm just guessing looking like you got mugged is not a great first impression with the directors.
Mike's being a jerk now too. He wanted to read somthing I wrote so I sent over a story I've been playing around with for a while and now he thinks I'm completly psychotic. Real nice of him, I swear. No critiques given, just yelled at by someone I thought I could trust. And that really sucks because it's completly not like him at all. And I really really like him. I know I say this about everyone I fall for but he understands me. And I thought I could tell him anything. I know he's been through so much but I felt like we actually had somthing. Somthing real. I just have to hope all is not lost now, I guess.
People just need to stop being assholes. And the world needs to stop trying to make me want out. At least I don't give up easilly.
Except maybe some people aren't supposed to be happy. All I have ever wanted is that happy ending. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to be ok. I guess...I guess it's just not in the cards though.
Dance tonight was horrible. Or rather I was horrible. I can't get out of the ballet mindset and just let go. Everything I do is so rigid. And you can tell that I have a ballet background because of how I hold myself and my turnout and everyone expects me to be good. Tonight was only my second bellydance class ever. Yeah I understand what we're supposed to be working on but I can't get it. And the really sad thing is that I really am trying.
So I came home afterwards feeling completly dejected and as I walk in the door, somthing hits me. Or rather someone. My younger brother found it nessasary to start using my head as a punching bag. Not so much fun, let me tell you. I mean, I can hold my own but not when I'm hit out of nowhere and then punched in both eyes and temples pretty damn hard over and over. Best of all, my mother sees it happen and laughs at me, congradulates him then blames me for being brused. Yeah. It's my fault that he's agressive and I bring it upon myself. God. This is why I can't live here.
And now I have two black eyes, bruses all over my forhead and the side of my face. Not to mention the lovley crimson trail I carved across the tops of my thighs, indirectly caused but completly triggered by the actions of earlier all coming together. It's the perfect trigger trifecta; my making an ass out of myself in dance, getting the crap beaten out of me by a fifteen year old and then being blamed for it by someone other then myself. But anyways, now I look like more of a disaster then before, which I don't think is going to go over so well at training for camp tomorrow. I'm just guessing looking like you got mugged is not a great first impression with the directors.
Mike's being a jerk now too. He wanted to read somthing I wrote so I sent over a story I've been playing around with for a while and now he thinks I'm completly psychotic. Real nice of him, I swear. No critiques given, just yelled at by someone I thought I could trust. And that really sucks because it's completly not like him at all. And I really really like him. I know I say this about everyone I fall for but he understands me. And I thought I could tell him anything. I know he's been through so much but I felt like we actually had somthing. Somthing real. I just have to hope all is not lost now, I guess.
People just need to stop being assholes. And the world needs to stop trying to make me want out. At least I don't give up easilly.
Except maybe some people aren't supposed to be happy. All I have ever wanted is that happy ending. I want to prove everyone wrong. I want to be ok. I guess...I guess it's just not in the cards though.
the kitchen walls
Mike and I had another marathon chitchat again last night. Like I said, it's so out of charactor for him to call me just to chat so I'm thinking that he's either really lonely or he actually might care. I'm gonna hope it's the latter because otherwise I'm going to feel like such an ass.
I have bellydance tonight!!! I'm really excited. It's such a great feeling to be dancing again. I actually ran into one of my old pointe instructors at the Starbucks by Lincoln Center yesterday. She basically refused to awknoweledge my presence. I guess I was right, they don't like you if you're not part of their world. Not to say I don't miss it. It was such a large part of my life , or rather, it was my life for so long...I think it would be unnatural to not. I still have a pair of pointe shoes that I'll put on from time to time and go down to my basement with the mirror-lined walls, barre and ABC/ABT-quality floor. When I'm down there, I'm almost in a trance. I love it so much but I know I can't go back to taking class. Not after leaving. Plus, going back to ballet would mean going back to full-time goddess worship. I can't do that to myself. Not when I'm just starting to be healthy again.
I have to take a drug test for camp. I really really really hope it comes up clean. I'm pretty sure it should, but I'm still gonna be worried till I get the results.
That would really suck if I tested dirty, after all of this. Yeah.
I have bellydance tonight!!! I'm really excited. It's such a great feeling to be dancing again. I actually ran into one of my old pointe instructors at the Starbucks by Lincoln Center yesterday. She basically refused to awknoweledge my presence. I guess I was right, they don't like you if you're not part of their world. Not to say I don't miss it. It was such a large part of my life , or rather, it was my life for so long...I think it would be unnatural to not. I still have a pair of pointe shoes that I'll put on from time to time and go down to my basement with the mirror-lined walls, barre and ABC/ABT-quality floor. When I'm down there, I'm almost in a trance. I love it so much but I know I can't go back to taking class. Not after leaving. Plus, going back to ballet would mean going back to full-time goddess worship. I can't do that to myself. Not when I'm just starting to be healthy again.
I have to take a drug test for camp. I really really really hope it comes up clean. I'm pretty sure it should, but I'm still gonna be worried till I get the results.
That would really suck if I tested dirty, after all of this. Yeah.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
shoot down the stars
Mike called me at 1am, just as I was getting into bed. I was really suprized cuz yeah, we talk a lot, but he's not one to call someone just to chat. He actually cared about how my day went and sounded genuinly interested. Is it possible that I have found a truly nice guy? But anyways, he's so easy to talk to and just relaxes me completely. We ended up talking till 5am, which was ok cuz I wasn't planning on sleeping anyways. I don't know what it is but when we're talking, he brings me down. Mike's so nonjudgemental, I feel like I can say anything and he will just listen and even if we disagree, he supports me.
I've never had someone like that, not even in a relationship sence but in a person to person sence. And I feel really lucky that I have Mike. I know I've been a bit of a whore in the past but being with Mike makes me not want to do that anymore. I guess I just crave the attention. Maybe I've just been looking for someone to treat me right. And...and I think I may have found that in Mike.
I think one of my problems is that when I fall for someone, I fall hard. I just love having someone next to me, knowing that despite everything, someone wants to be with me. Relationships make me feel like someday I am going to be ok. It's really unhealthy to think that way, I know. But being with someone makes me feel whole...even if I'm just being used.
I'm done with being used. It's happened to me my entire life. I have never been anything more than somthing easilly disposed of. And I've been ok with that. Maybe I'm just stupid and haven't given up on that little glimmer of hope that says that it **might** turn into somthing more than a late night bootycall ending with the walk of shame back to my room at 5am.
But I know I'm not being used this time. Mike and I have more than that. We talked about it last night, real stuff. Exes came up and I got into the Andrew saga and after, after Mike told me he'd never hurt me like that. That he can't hurt me. It's the things like that, that make me melt.
And we've been through so much together, especially when he was in the desert, I think that if we haven't fucked up whatever we have by now, Mike and I might actually be able to make this work.
Which would be fantastic, cuz I really like him.
I've never had someone like that, not even in a relationship sence but in a person to person sence. And I feel really lucky that I have Mike. I know I've been a bit of a whore in the past but being with Mike makes me not want to do that anymore. I guess I just crave the attention. Maybe I've just been looking for someone to treat me right. And...and I think I may have found that in Mike.
I think one of my problems is that when I fall for someone, I fall hard. I just love having someone next to me, knowing that despite everything, someone wants to be with me. Relationships make me feel like someday I am going to be ok. It's really unhealthy to think that way, I know. But being with someone makes me feel whole...even if I'm just being used.
I'm done with being used. It's happened to me my entire life. I have never been anything more than somthing easilly disposed of. And I've been ok with that. Maybe I'm just stupid and haven't given up on that little glimmer of hope that says that it **might** turn into somthing more than a late night bootycall ending with the walk of shame back to my room at 5am.
But I know I'm not being used this time. Mike and I have more than that. We talked about it last night, real stuff. Exes came up and I got into the Andrew saga and after, after Mike told me he'd never hurt me like that. That he can't hurt me. It's the things like that, that make me melt.
And we've been through so much together, especially when he was in the desert, I think that if we haven't fucked up whatever we have by now, Mike and I might actually be able to make this work.
Which would be fantastic, cuz I really like him.
Monday, June 11, 2007
pain(less)
I'm officially a camp counselor. I'm actually freaking out a little bit. I don't know how to answer the hard questions that I know are going to come up. All of these girls have been labeled as "at-risk" teens and pre-teens. I was (and still am to some degree) these girls. Except that I no longer am "at-risk"...I am the risk. And I know they are going to ask me how I was when I was there age. I'm not going to tell them that I was pretty much a walking skeleton, high off my ass and dragging razors across my body. Yup. That was me. I don't know how to tell them how to cope when I'm just now trying to figure that out myself.
But now, because I'm going to be hiking and such at camp, I can justify buying a new pair of hiking boots. I've had mine for a while and they're fine but it's time for them to be replaced.
An article on CNN.com is really bothering me. Apparantly there was a study done that concluded that male veterans have a higher than average suicide rate. No shit guys, our men are coming back with half of the limbs they left with and the VA doesn't do a thing to help sort out what is inside their heads before they stick a goddamned gun to their temple and pull the trigger. It's sickening to think how we treat our soldiers.
I met the most amazing Israeli man earlier at this little bodega near my writing class. He was trying to buy some ice, but didn't speak English and the clerk didn't understand Hebrew. So I stepped in. Yay for being fluent in four languages, conversational in three more. But anyways, this man lived on a Kibbutz near where I was born for 50 years, before Israel was even a soverign state. I love the Kibbutz system, completly communial living but also self-sufficiant. Before I get too old and even more cynical, I need to live on one for a month or so...just to see what it's like to be completly reliant on the community for your survival.
Also, I almost blew myself up in my chem lab this morning. I forgot to turn off the burner thing and dropped pure chlorine into distilled water. They exploded, as per the intended reaction, but I guess the fumes were explosive also and got a little too close to the flame. Another boom and tons of "What the fuck?"s later, I'm still gonna blame it on lab being at 9am and my lack of caffene that early.
MMMMM coffee.
But now, because I'm going to be hiking and such at camp, I can justify buying a new pair of hiking boots. I've had mine for a while and they're fine but it's time for them to be replaced.
An article on CNN.com is really bothering me. Apparantly there was a study done that concluded that male veterans have a higher than average suicide rate. No shit guys, our men are coming back with half of the limbs they left with and the VA doesn't do a thing to help sort out what is inside their heads before they stick a goddamned gun to their temple and pull the trigger. It's sickening to think how we treat our soldiers.
I met the most amazing Israeli man earlier at this little bodega near my writing class. He was trying to buy some ice, but didn't speak English and the clerk didn't understand Hebrew. So I stepped in. Yay for being fluent in four languages, conversational in three more. But anyways, this man lived on a Kibbutz near where I was born for 50 years, before Israel was even a soverign state. I love the Kibbutz system, completly communial living but also self-sufficiant. Before I get too old and even more cynical, I need to live on one for a month or so...just to see what it's like to be completly reliant on the community for your survival.
Also, I almost blew myself up in my chem lab this morning. I forgot to turn off the burner thing and dropped pure chlorine into distilled water. They exploded, as per the intended reaction, but I guess the fumes were explosive also and got a little too close to the flame. Another boom and tons of "What the fuck?"s later, I'm still gonna blame it on lab being at 9am and my lack of caffene that early.
MMMMM coffee.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
apologize
Mike (living in Daytona, FL-- just back from the desert) and I were talking earlier and somehow we got on the topic of the worst either one of us has done. Stupidly, I asked him what's the worst he's done. Mike's answer-
Baby I've been to war. Don't ask me to list my sins.
And I instantly realized that it's going to be really hard for us. Us not only meaning me and him but also every single Military girlfriend, spouse, child. As much as we try to understand, fact of the matter is that we don't. Nor will we. There's this old saying that the real soldiers are the ones who don't talk about what they've seen.
I know Mike's seen the worst of it, but he's the guy I am going to marry.
And I'm not shallow enough to not want to be with him because he needs to, for one reason or another, keep things about what went down in the desert from me.
The way I see it, none of us have a clean slate. We've all done some pretty fucked up things. Me. I was never the good one. But you do what you gotta do to survive. If that means that sometimes I have to take way too many painmeds and put on some chill, acoustic stuff to get me away from this Hell, then so be it. Or that I needed to tell my father that most of my problems can be traced back to him, just to get him off my back. Or my working at Coyote while promoting feminism. Or the time I told my suicidal friend that after two failed tries she needed to either get it over with already or stop trying. Yeah. I'm a really bad person.
Completly shifting gears, I'm absolutly astonished over how many people are on academic warning or were asked to leave becase of grades after last semester. Thankfully I wasn't, but I came disgustingly close. Nina is gone, Jess is gone, Becca is on AcPro, Brian is gone...the list goes on. What I don't understand is, if you're paying over $28,000 in tuition alone, how you get kicked out for not going to class. No...I get it. But still. I guess this semester was just a really big wakeup call for me. I really need to get my act together. Noone tolerates a failure. There's a reason failure and F start with the same letter. B...you can always do better. C, get your crap together. D, do somthing immediatly to amend the situation. And F...fuckup, failure, forgot that nothing below an A is acceptable.
Next weekend my stepcousin, Chella, is turning six and I have no idea what to get her. I'm thinking I might get her a really cute giant hobo bag that I found at Nordstroms and buy Barbies and other girly toys to stuff it with. She diserves it. She's a fantastic six year old.
But even she doesn't have any baggage.
Baby I've been to war. Don't ask me to list my sins.
And I instantly realized that it's going to be really hard for us. Us not only meaning me and him but also every single Military girlfriend, spouse, child. As much as we try to understand, fact of the matter is that we don't. Nor will we. There's this old saying that the real soldiers are the ones who don't talk about what they've seen.
I know Mike's seen the worst of it, but he's the guy I am going to marry.
And I'm not shallow enough to not want to be with him because he needs to, for one reason or another, keep things about what went down in the desert from me.
The way I see it, none of us have a clean slate. We've all done some pretty fucked up things. Me. I was never the good one. But you do what you gotta do to survive. If that means that sometimes I have to take way too many painmeds and put on some chill, acoustic stuff to get me away from this Hell, then so be it. Or that I needed to tell my father that most of my problems can be traced back to him, just to get him off my back. Or my working at Coyote while promoting feminism. Or the time I told my suicidal friend that after two failed tries she needed to either get it over with already or stop trying. Yeah. I'm a really bad person.
Completly shifting gears, I'm absolutly astonished over how many people are on academic warning or were asked to leave becase of grades after last semester. Thankfully I wasn't, but I came disgustingly close. Nina is gone, Jess is gone, Becca is on AcPro, Brian is gone...the list goes on. What I don't understand is, if you're paying over $28,000 in tuition alone, how you get kicked out for not going to class. No...I get it. But still. I guess this semester was just a really big wakeup call for me. I really need to get my act together. Noone tolerates a failure. There's a reason failure and F start with the same letter. B...you can always do better. C, get your crap together. D, do somthing immediatly to amend the situation. And F...fuckup, failure, forgot that nothing below an A is acceptable.
Next weekend my stepcousin, Chella, is turning six and I have no idea what to get her. I'm thinking I might get her a really cute giant hobo bag that I found at Nordstroms and buy Barbies and other girly toys to stuff it with. She diserves it. She's a fantastic six year old.
But even she doesn't have any baggage.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
tell me what we're gonna do
Last night was AMAZING! Amia's friend, Jessica, who came with me and Janet is so much fun. And the show was fantastic. Ryan Shaw and Common opened for Joss Stone. Common ended up doing a pretty long set and Joss was up there for like an hour. I love Summer Stage shows.
This morning kind of sucked though. I had to go to the eye doctor cuz my contacts have been bothering me more then usual and it turns out that my perscription worsened. So not only do I have to use a new brand of contacts that are much thicker, and therefore less comfortable, but also have to put up more money for different contacts. Whatever. These things can't really be avoided.
I'm on the verge of (once again) getting kicked out of my mother's house. Apparantly she's offended that I'm never around. Yeah sorry...I work and take workshop in the city and take classes at another school, not to mention have other responsibilities. Plus, her mere presence brings me back to a really bad place. I don't have the time to bother with someone who I have always had issues with. She's not worth the aggrivation.
I'm watching my friend's daughter, Amnity, tonight. I'm not a fan of kids, but Amnity is a rockstar. She's Israeli and Korean so she has this amazingly curly, dark, shiny hair that she's never cut and Amnity is the biggiest 7-year-old hippie I have ever met. Seriously, she and I have the best time together just drawing or messing around. Watching Amnity almost makes me want kids.
Almost.
Except I'd be the worst parent ever.
This morning kind of sucked though. I had to go to the eye doctor cuz my contacts have been bothering me more then usual and it turns out that my perscription worsened. So not only do I have to use a new brand of contacts that are much thicker, and therefore less comfortable, but also have to put up more money for different contacts. Whatever. These things can't really be avoided.
I'm on the verge of (once again) getting kicked out of my mother's house. Apparantly she's offended that I'm never around. Yeah sorry...I work and take workshop in the city and take classes at another school, not to mention have other responsibilities. Plus, her mere presence brings me back to a really bad place. I don't have the time to bother with someone who I have always had issues with. She's not worth the aggrivation.
I'm watching my friend's daughter, Amnity, tonight. I'm not a fan of kids, but Amnity is a rockstar. She's Israeli and Korean so she has this amazingly curly, dark, shiny hair that she's never cut and Amnity is the biggiest 7-year-old hippie I have ever met. Seriously, she and I have the best time together just drawing or messing around. Watching Amnity almost makes me want kids.
Almost.
Except I'd be the worst parent ever.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
improved shadow
Let me start off by saying how much I adore Damian (my stylist) right about now. We ended up bringing up the length just around two inches to just below my collarbones but shaped it by adding more layers with a razor and sideswept bangs. Sigh. I love. But he wants to wait a few weeks to do my color to give my hair time to relax...the cuticle was getting a little fried which is never good. Whatever. If Damian wasn't obscenly gay I'd marry him in a second. He is so MY gay.
Sad news though. As of now, it looks like my brother is going to be doing 9th grade over again. Being suspended two weeks before his finals certinly didn't help the situation and for him to pass, he cannot get below a B+ on any of the exams...which, let's be honist, is going to be damn near impossible for him to pull off. But, I really have no sympathy for him. He brought it upon himself by not going to class and completly messing around when he did, not to mention not exerting any effort outside of school. Whatever. It's not my problem.
There's a really good possibility of me roadtripping at some point down to Daytona Beach, Florida to check out my friend Mike's new place. He just got out of the Army after two 18-month tours in Iraq and decided his hometown of LA wasn't for him anymore so he packed up and finally settled down in FL. Mike is a really great guy, I met him in a bar in West Hollywood a few years ago when he was home on leave and we just instantly clicked. Most hilarious of all, we share the same last name as well as the same first initial. But we stayed in touch when he went back to the desert and now we're really close. I'm actually really excited to see him, we cought up when he was back on leave in late January but haven't seen each other since.
Tomorrow should be fun. I have an early workshop at 8:15 then I'm going to the Joss Stone show in Central Park with Janet, Amia and one of her friends. Hopefully it won't rain though, I mean I love the rain but not when I'm going out. Kind of a downer though, they don't sell within the Park so the girls and I are bringing our happy flasks. Everything is so much better with vodka.
I love workshop. I never realized how much I learn from critiquing and being critiqued by my peers. Even in the past two weeks, I feel like the pieces I've been working on have gotten so much tighter. Which is always a good thing. I'm going to lose the reader in thirty seconds or less if my writing doesn't get better...and fast.
Sad news though. As of now, it looks like my brother is going to be doing 9th grade over again. Being suspended two weeks before his finals certinly didn't help the situation and for him to pass, he cannot get below a B+ on any of the exams...which, let's be honist, is going to be damn near impossible for him to pull off. But, I really have no sympathy for him. He brought it upon himself by not going to class and completly messing around when he did, not to mention not exerting any effort outside of school. Whatever. It's not my problem.
There's a really good possibility of me roadtripping at some point down to Daytona Beach, Florida to check out my friend Mike's new place. He just got out of the Army after two 18-month tours in Iraq and decided his hometown of LA wasn't for him anymore so he packed up and finally settled down in FL. Mike is a really great guy, I met him in a bar in West Hollywood a few years ago when he was home on leave and we just instantly clicked. Most hilarious of all, we share the same last name as well as the same first initial. But we stayed in touch when he went back to the desert and now we're really close. I'm actually really excited to see him, we cought up when he was back on leave in late January but haven't seen each other since.
Tomorrow should be fun. I have an early workshop at 8:15 then I'm going to the Joss Stone show in Central Park with Janet, Amia and one of her friends. Hopefully it won't rain though, I mean I love the rain but not when I'm going out. Kind of a downer though, they don't sell within the Park so the girls and I are bringing our happy flasks. Everything is so much better with vodka.
I love workshop. I never realized how much I learn from critiquing and being critiqued by my peers. Even in the past two weeks, I feel like the pieces I've been working on have gotten so much tighter. Which is always a good thing. I'm going to lose the reader in thirty seconds or less if my writing doesn't get better...and fast.
i need to wake up
So after workshop, I decided to check out this belly dancing class near Fiona's gallery. Coming from a pretty strong background in dance--mostly classical ballet-- I was really excited to have the opportunity to check out somthing that's very stylistically different. Oh my goodness, it was so much fun though! I mean, I had some issues with technical stuff...like I spot my turns and do almost everything on the balls of my feet or with my feet pointed because of ballet but still...it just felt so great to be taking a class again. Its one thing to slip on your old pointe shoes and just mess around but taking a class, you get such a high off of it from the energy the other dancers bring to the table. I mean, three hours later and I'm still going strong.
Fiona's gallery is doing really well, I think. She just opened the space around six months ago and she's already generating a buzz. I think partically because she has been holding a bunch of benefits which are always amazing for press coverage. As much as I am proud of Fiona, I'm also secretly jealous of her. She is only six years older than me, not even, and she is completly together. And as much as I try, I'm not. I have absolutly no idea where I'm going to end up for grad school or after that, I'm living at home this summer (inserts knife into jugular), I'm still unmarried with no acceptable marriage proposals coming any time soon... it sucks.
I think what bothers me most is that I'm so type-A that I cannot stand not to have a plan for where I'm headed and if somthing doesn't follow the plan, I lose it. I always thought by the time I was 19 I'd be more self-reliant then I am now. Not so much. I'm still extremly dependant on others, be it for; approval, confidence, amusement...there's a myrad of things. And deep down I know that I should be able to stand on my own two feet. But I just don't think I'm strong enough.
Whatever. Styilist appointment tomorrow. Thank God. My layers completly grew out, my ends are friend and my roots are completly obvious. I'm thinking I might have Damian do a dark, almost but not quite deep brown with some chocolate tonal highlights and chop my hair up to just below my collarbones with a bunch of long, razored out layers. Maybe. I don't know. I think that's why I love going to Damian. He knows me, he knows what I can pull off and how much time I'm willing to devote to my hair in the morning. Plus he's been my styilist for over three years now and going to anyone else just feels like cheating.
Wow. I am a vain, elitist whore. Whoops.
Fiona's gallery is doing really well, I think. She just opened the space around six months ago and she's already generating a buzz. I think partically because she has been holding a bunch of benefits which are always amazing for press coverage. As much as I am proud of Fiona, I'm also secretly jealous of her. She is only six years older than me, not even, and she is completly together. And as much as I try, I'm not. I have absolutly no idea where I'm going to end up for grad school or after that, I'm living at home this summer (inserts knife into jugular), I'm still unmarried with no acceptable marriage proposals coming any time soon... it sucks.
I think what bothers me most is that I'm so type-A that I cannot stand not to have a plan for where I'm headed and if somthing doesn't follow the plan, I lose it. I always thought by the time I was 19 I'd be more self-reliant then I am now. Not so much. I'm still extremly dependant on others, be it for; approval, confidence, amusement...there's a myrad of things. And deep down I know that I should be able to stand on my own two feet. But I just don't think I'm strong enough.
Whatever. Styilist appointment tomorrow. Thank God. My layers completly grew out, my ends are friend and my roots are completly obvious. I'm thinking I might have Damian do a dark, almost but not quite deep brown with some chocolate tonal highlights and chop my hair up to just below my collarbones with a bunch of long, razored out layers. Maybe. I don't know. I think that's why I love going to Damian. He knows me, he knows what I can pull off and how much time I'm willing to devote to my hair in the morning. Plus he's been my styilist for over three years now and going to anyone else just feels like cheating.
Wow. I am a vain, elitist whore. Whoops.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
caves of creation rock
So right now I'm sitting in Central Park, just over by the Imagine circle and Strawberry Fields, with Zen...just enjoying the day. I just finished a piece that I'm workshopping this afternoon and I know I really should be studying for tomorrow's chem lab but I'm not really in the mood. I mean, I understand what I'm supposed to do for the lab and it's not like I am not going to look it over before class. I wouldn't sabotage myself like that, especially when every A brings me one step closer to graduating and grad school.
Andrew (the guy who told me I'm impossible to love then decided he couldn't get me out of his mind) wants to start seeing me again. I want to see him, but I don't think it's a good idea. I try to have a policy of never getting back together with my exes, but Andrew is making it really hard for me. I still care about him immencely but it's just really difficult even talking to him because every time I even think about him, I hear him telling me that I'm impossible to love. How can anyone be in a successful, healthy, meaningful relationship after somthing like that? I don't think that it can happen. But...thinking back to when we were together...we worked so well. Andrew and I think the same way and I care about him so much that it makes me want to try to make somthing work. But I also know, he hurt me once and I don't want to feel like that again. So I don't know what I'm going to do.
I wish this whole relationship thing wasn't so complicated. No...I don't. I don't do things that are too easy. There's no fun in that.
Andrew (the guy who told me I'm impossible to love then decided he couldn't get me out of his mind) wants to start seeing me again. I want to see him, but I don't think it's a good idea. I try to have a policy of never getting back together with my exes, but Andrew is making it really hard for me. I still care about him immencely but it's just really difficult even talking to him because every time I even think about him, I hear him telling me that I'm impossible to love. How can anyone be in a successful, healthy, meaningful relationship after somthing like that? I don't think that it can happen. But...thinking back to when we were together...we worked so well. Andrew and I think the same way and I care about him so much that it makes me want to try to make somthing work. But I also know, he hurt me once and I don't want to feel like that again. So I don't know what I'm going to do.
I wish this whole relationship thing wasn't so complicated. No...I don't. I don't do things that are too easy. There's no fun in that.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
watchtower drive
I haven't been sleeping well. Even with my sleeping pills, I just can't sleep. I guess because my schedule is so tight this summer, I don't want to sleep because I have things to do. My classes at the community college are all early, starting at 7am, so I have to start getting ready at 5 to get there on time. After classes are over, three days a week I have to run into the city for my writing workshops. Then it's either off to one of the evening lectures then out or Lotus. Either way, I'm pulling into my driveway at 3-4am, only to wake up an hour or so later to start the madness all over again. When I'm home, I'm either cleaning (is it bad that vacumning is now relaxing for me?), doing school stuff or writing. Not that I mind it, but not having my "me" time is starting to bother me. I think that's where the not sleeping thing comes back in. I really just need not even an hour to do some yoga, do my nails and play with Zen.
It's actually kind of crazy how little sleep I need. I mean, I'm no more scattered and neurotic with no sleep than I am after a full 8 hours. But I'm not going to complain, if it works for me then I'm just going to roll with it.
I'm so excited right now...my writing program brings in established authors to workshop and lecture and so James Tate is with us next Monday. And he's running the poetry workshop I'm in during the day...there's only seven of us in the workshop so **maybe** I might actually get one of my pieces read by him. Sigh. One can only hope.
Of Tate's work, The Lost Pilot is one of my favorite:
Your face did not rot
like the others--the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him
yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his wife and daughter,
the poor ignorant people, stare
as if he will compose soon.
He was more wronged than Job.
But your face did not rot
like the others--it grew dark,
and hard like ebony;
the features progressed in their
distinction. If I could cajole
you to come back for an evening,
down from your compulsive
orbiting, I would touch you,
read your face as Dallas,
your hoodlum gunner, now,
with the blistered eyes, reads
his braille editions. I would
touch your face as a disinterested
scholar touches an original page.
However frightening, I would
discover you, and I would not
turn you in; I would not make
you face your wife, or Dallas,
or the co-pilot, Jim. You
could return to your crazy
orbiting, and I would not try
to fully understand what
it means to you. All I know
is this: when I see you,
as I have seen you at least
once every year of my life,
spin across the wilds of the sky
like a tiny, African god,
I feel dead. I feel as if I were
the residue of a stranger's life,
that I should pursue you.
My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and, you, passing over again,
fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake
that placed you in that world,
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.
He is brilliant. I'm so happy to have the opportunity to hear him. Maybe...maybe some of his talent will rub off on me. Because seriously, I'm not that good. My writing is just that, a scattered reflection of my psyche. Nothing special. It is what it is. And I know it's not about it being good, it's about being real. But my real is much more fluid and not always apparant at first glance. Which I think makes it harder for me to appreciate what I've written. I don't know. Whatever.
It's actually kind of crazy how little sleep I need. I mean, I'm no more scattered and neurotic with no sleep than I am after a full 8 hours. But I'm not going to complain, if it works for me then I'm just going to roll with it.
I'm so excited right now...my writing program brings in established authors to workshop and lecture and so James Tate is with us next Monday. And he's running the poetry workshop I'm in during the day...there's only seven of us in the workshop so **maybe** I might actually get one of my pieces read by him. Sigh. One can only hope.
Of Tate's work, The Lost Pilot is one of my favorite:
Your face did not rot
like the others--the co-pilot,
for example, I saw him
yesterday. His face is corn-
mush: his wife and daughter,
the poor ignorant people, stare
as if he will compose soon.
He was more wronged than Job.
But your face did not rot
like the others--it grew dark,
and hard like ebony;
the features progressed in their
distinction. If I could cajole
you to come back for an evening,
down from your compulsive
orbiting, I would touch you,
read your face as Dallas,
your hoodlum gunner, now,
with the blistered eyes, reads
his braille editions. I would
touch your face as a disinterested
scholar touches an original page.
However frightening, I would
discover you, and I would not
turn you in; I would not make
you face your wife, or Dallas,
or the co-pilot, Jim. You
could return to your crazy
orbiting, and I would not try
to fully understand what
it means to you. All I know
is this: when I see you,
as I have seen you at least
once every year of my life,
spin across the wilds of the sky
like a tiny, African god,
I feel dead. I feel as if I were
the residue of a stranger's life,
that I should pursue you.
My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and, you, passing over again,
fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake
that placed you in that world,
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.
He is brilliant. I'm so happy to have the opportunity to hear him. Maybe...maybe some of his talent will rub off on me. Because seriously, I'm not that good. My writing is just that, a scattered reflection of my psyche. Nothing special. It is what it is. And I know it's not about it being good, it's about being real. But my real is much more fluid and not always apparant at first glance. Which I think makes it harder for me to appreciate what I've written. I don't know. Whatever.
Monday, June 4, 2007
the silent sound of surrender
James is back. Alive. In one piece. Same with his men.
Yo sexy lady,
I am alive. Son of a bitch that was an interesting situation. Close calls. Damn close. No scars. A couple burns but no scars. However, sadly I lost my bandanna with the hearts on them. My friend chris got a bullet to the arm and we needed a tourniquet. He's fine but I think I'm going to let him keep it. But now I'm out a wicked sweet bandanna. Hook me up baby.
I have to go to sleep. i've been awake since saturday. I smell like blood sweat and engine oil too. Thats gotta be sexy.
I'll talk to you later love,
your soldier boy
James
No more late nights worrying...till the next time I get one of those emails from him. But whatever, goes with the territory I guess.
I used to make these little bags of pills up. Kill bags, I called them, filled with enough tranqs to kill a walrus ten times over. I hid them all over my room, in bags, pillowcases, wherever. But always within reach, so if things ever got to the point where I needed out for good, I could grab one and just fall asleep. Strangely enough, it was that bad constantly. But the two times I went to out myself, I never went for those pills. It was the blade and the classic painkillers chased with a bottle of Absolut. But whoops, I'm still here. I couldn't even die right. I think that was the most depressing thing, not even being able to out myself correctly.
I found one of the bags earlier, in with my first pair of pointe shoes. I threw out the bag, kept the shoes.
And I feel better already.
Yo sexy lady,
I am alive. Son of a bitch that was an interesting situation. Close calls. Damn close. No scars. A couple burns but no scars. However, sadly I lost my bandanna with the hearts on them. My friend chris got a bullet to the arm and we needed a tourniquet. He's fine but I think I'm going to let him keep it. But now I'm out a wicked sweet bandanna. Hook me up baby.
I have to go to sleep. i've been awake since saturday. I smell like blood sweat and engine oil too. Thats gotta be sexy.
I'll talk to you later love,
your soldier boy
James
No more late nights worrying...till the next time I get one of those emails from him. But whatever, goes with the territory I guess.
I used to make these little bags of pills up. Kill bags, I called them, filled with enough tranqs to kill a walrus ten times over. I hid them all over my room, in bags, pillowcases, wherever. But always within reach, so if things ever got to the point where I needed out for good, I could grab one and just fall asleep. Strangely enough, it was that bad constantly. But the two times I went to out myself, I never went for those pills. It was the blade and the classic painkillers chased with a bottle of Absolut. But whoops, I'm still here. I couldn't even die right. I think that was the most depressing thing, not even being able to out myself correctly.
I found one of the bags earlier, in with my first pair of pointe shoes. I threw out the bag, kept the shoes.
And I feel better already.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
hope is not a course of action
I think I am done seeing myself as damaged. By feeling that I am somehow not a whole person, not only am I allowing myself to look like a victim but I am the victim. I don't know what I've been waiting for, maybe a giant epiphany or somthing to smack me across the cheek, but somthing substantial to change before I evolved into an unbroken being. I mean, nothing major has happened but I just feel like now is the time to start moving towards seeing myself as somthing worth caring about enough to stop breaking down every second.
I quit Coyote. One of the other girls passed me a rail before work last night...I dont know, maybe she thought I was lagging or whatever...but I did it and instantly regretted it. Don't get me wrong, I still crave the rush but I don't want it to become a constant in my life. Last time I worked for a substantial amount of time, it did become that and it pushed me into a really bad place-mental not physical- and I've been fighting to get away from there ever since. So I quit after last night and put in a call to one of my friends who manages a bar over in the Meatpacking district...not too far from where Fiona's new gallery is and definatly walkable from the school where my writing classes are...and I'm going to be there four nights a week. It's called Lotus. It's really chill, very hipster pseudo-intelligentsia vibe and the pay is much better then at Coyote, even after factoring in lost tips I'm still going to be making more at Lotus then I would have.
It really sucks that I'm so shy. I think it goes back to seeing myself as the victim, if I'm invisable-noone can hurt me (if only that were true). I just can't stop thinking about how much I've missed out on because I'm really uncomfortable putting myself out there. I quit dance, pagents, riding, swimming, singing, theatre, photography, most writing...not to mention pretty much hiding under a rock all through middle and high school......just cuz I don't want to deal with the inevitable rejection. My turnout is nonexistant, I'm not pretty enough, I'm too scared to go for the higher jumps, my flipturns are hideous, I'm one step away from being tonedeaf, I don't stay in character, I have a really bad eye for what makes a good shot, I've yet to write anything substantial...and noone told me it wasn't en vogue to be more bohemian than Abecrombie. But anyways, now I'm just not outgoing. And I don't think that it's a huge flaw or anything to be more conservative but now I'm just done with worrying about everything.
In my writing program, I'm supposed to be gathering works I've created over the past five years and I've got almost nothing worth sharing. Yeah I have the scattered poem or reflection but...my writing isn't very good. Certinly not at the level to be expected of someone in the program. And it's not for lack of trying. I'm working on a piece right now for one of my workshops and I think I'm on the eighth draft of it...but still...it's nothing new. Stylistically, thematically...I'm inable to create somthing that hasn't been seen before. I am nothing more than a cheap Chinatown knockoff of the greats.
But I don't know if it matters though. Jack Kerouac tells us to "write in recollection and amazement for yourself" and I guess that's what I do, regardless of venue or genre. I just write. Constantly. And I don't see my pieces as anything innovative because after agonizing over them...they are merely an extention of me so to see them as anything more than that is just a completly foreign idea that I'm not quite ready to wrap my head around yet.
For now though, my puppy just lay down at my feet and is ready to go to sleep. It's kind of funny...I've never been much of an animal person till now. Somthing about my absolute disgust for dependance in any form, kind of why I cannot stand children. But Zen is like me...except a dog. And it's kind of nice having somthing around that likes you, regardless of how the rest of the world sees you.
It makes me think that someday, maybe, I might be ok. And that is worth fighting for.
I quit Coyote. One of the other girls passed me a rail before work last night...I dont know, maybe she thought I was lagging or whatever...but I did it and instantly regretted it. Don't get me wrong, I still crave the rush but I don't want it to become a constant in my life. Last time I worked for a substantial amount of time, it did become that and it pushed me into a really bad place-mental not physical- and I've been fighting to get away from there ever since. So I quit after last night and put in a call to one of my friends who manages a bar over in the Meatpacking district...not too far from where Fiona's new gallery is and definatly walkable from the school where my writing classes are...and I'm going to be there four nights a week. It's called Lotus. It's really chill, very hipster pseudo-intelligentsia vibe and the pay is much better then at Coyote, even after factoring in lost tips I'm still going to be making more at Lotus then I would have.
It really sucks that I'm so shy. I think it goes back to seeing myself as the victim, if I'm invisable-noone can hurt me (if only that were true). I just can't stop thinking about how much I've missed out on because I'm really uncomfortable putting myself out there. I quit dance, pagents, riding, swimming, singing, theatre, photography, most writing...not to mention pretty much hiding under a rock all through middle and high school......just cuz I don't want to deal with the inevitable rejection. My turnout is nonexistant, I'm not pretty enough, I'm too scared to go for the higher jumps, my flipturns are hideous, I'm one step away from being tonedeaf, I don't stay in character, I have a really bad eye for what makes a good shot, I've yet to write anything substantial...and noone told me it wasn't en vogue to be more bohemian than Abecrombie. But anyways, now I'm just not outgoing. And I don't think that it's a huge flaw or anything to be more conservative but now I'm just done with worrying about everything.
In my writing program, I'm supposed to be gathering works I've created over the past five years and I've got almost nothing worth sharing. Yeah I have the scattered poem or reflection but...my writing isn't very good. Certinly not at the level to be expected of someone in the program. And it's not for lack of trying. I'm working on a piece right now for one of my workshops and I think I'm on the eighth draft of it...but still...it's nothing new. Stylistically, thematically...I'm inable to create somthing that hasn't been seen before. I am nothing more than a cheap Chinatown knockoff of the greats.
But I don't know if it matters though. Jack Kerouac tells us to "write in recollection and amazement for yourself" and I guess that's what I do, regardless of venue or genre. I just write. Constantly. And I don't see my pieces as anything innovative because after agonizing over them...they are merely an extention of me so to see them as anything more than that is just a completly foreign idea that I'm not quite ready to wrap my head around yet.
For now though, my puppy just lay down at my feet and is ready to go to sleep. It's kind of funny...I've never been much of an animal person till now. Somthing about my absolute disgust for dependance in any form, kind of why I cannot stand children. But Zen is like me...except a dog. And it's kind of nice having somthing around that likes you, regardless of how the rest of the world sees you.
It makes me think that someday, maybe, I might be ok. And that is worth fighting for.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
sweet johnny
So I should know by Monday or Tuesday I'm hoping...either way. I hate this. I put myself in this position though. I'm completly addicted to the military. It's not my fault though, my dad's family for the most part is all Navy or Marine Corps and it's what I've been around since I was a kid. I understand them and they get me. So I guess it works. I just hate the worrying that goes along with it. Every time I hear somthing about Iraq or Afghanistan, I have to take a step back and hope that none of my people were involved or if they were, that they are all ok. Sometimes they aren't ok, but it's a fact of the job. And that sucks.
Completly coincidently, some of our mutual friends are down from Vermont for the week. I think it's good though. I mean, James has no real family...we're pretty much it. So we'll all be together to either revil in triumph or mourn the defeat. Either way though, we're together.
James is my person. More than any of the people I have left, he is my true counterpoint. I love him and I cannot imagine a world without him. Which is good because he is coming home safe.
Never give up hope...it's bad juju.
Completly coincidently, some of our mutual friends are down from Vermont for the week. I think it's good though. I mean, James has no real family...we're pretty much it. So we'll all be together to either revil in triumph or mourn the defeat. Either way though, we're together.
James is my person. More than any of the people I have left, he is my true counterpoint. I love him and I cannot imagine a world without him. Which is good because he is coming home safe.
Never give up hope...it's bad juju.
Friday, June 1, 2007
trouble
So last night at work... some drunk fratboys got a little too physical with the new girl. When Frank, one of the bouncers, came over, one of the shitheads took a swing at him, so Frank punched him in the face. Cops show up, the little rich jerk files a report against my guy and I get stuck cleaning up the blood off the floor when we close.
Not so much fun.
I had to run by the high school earlier to pick up my brother's homework for the next two weeks. Kind of surreal, being back there. It looks the same...same little preppy whores out front, same security guards, same faded awards touting National Honor Society sponsorship and such.
I'm exhausted though. When I got back last night/this morning I took a sleeping pill. Then I woke up two hours later to run before it got too hot out. And I've been up since. Working tonight from 8 till prolly 3 or 4am...whenever we close. And then Monmouth tomorrow with Dad. I know it's kind of hillbilly of us but we go to the racetrack, sit in the stands, have a few beers and bet on the horses. It's always been our thing though, back from when I used to be **obsessed** with all things equine.
James called me this afternoon. The kid's scared out of his mind but I played supportive chic and basically just reassured him. Because I know deep down he's going to be ok. He was born to be a soldier. Hooah.
Oh. Montecristo cigars are amazing. Everyone should smoke them. Plus, I look pretty badass with a cigar and my sunglasses when I'm out playing poker during breaks at work. Hell yeah.
I need some RedBull. Or Stackers. Just somthing to help me make it through the day.
Not so much fun.
I had to run by the high school earlier to pick up my brother's homework for the next two weeks. Kind of surreal, being back there. It looks the same...same little preppy whores out front, same security guards, same faded awards touting National Honor Society sponsorship and such.
I'm exhausted though. When I got back last night/this morning I took a sleeping pill. Then I woke up two hours later to run before it got too hot out. And I've been up since. Working tonight from 8 till prolly 3 or 4am...whenever we close. And then Monmouth tomorrow with Dad. I know it's kind of hillbilly of us but we go to the racetrack, sit in the stands, have a few beers and bet on the horses. It's always been our thing though, back from when I used to be **obsessed** with all things equine.
James called me this afternoon. The kid's scared out of his mind but I played supportive chic and basically just reassured him. Because I know deep down he's going to be ok. He was born to be a soldier. Hooah.
Oh. Montecristo cigars are amazing. Everyone should smoke them. Plus, I look pretty badass with a cigar and my sunglasses when I'm out playing poker during breaks at work. Hell yeah.
I need some RedBull. Or Stackers. Just somthing to help me make it through the day.
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