Y'know, I like when patterns start to emerge in my life. I can kinda guess what the future will be that way.
I know, for example that if I'm getting annoyed with Jeremy, it's because we haven't hung out face to face. Every time, no exceptions, after a couple weeks of just gmail chatting, I start to hate him. I entertain thoughts of dumping off his stupid blue fleece that's been sitting in my closet for a year now and whisking myself away to a happier life where people really listen and care about what I have to say. Maybe those people won't be so frustrating and frustrated. I even got so angry once I unfriended him- which made things worse because he didn't actually notice until I brought it up a month later. But It's nice to know that if I swallow my annoyance and think, 'fine- this will be the last time we hang out' and we actually DO hang out, no matter how we start the evening, by the end I'm feeling better. During the period in which he suddenly became uncomfortable with even a simple hug when before we were fine snuggling during a movie, going to dinner didn't have quite the same amount of satisfaction at the end. I was worried. But slowly but surely, we have some what passed that. Now he's gone back to giving me a hearty hug at the end, and I've learned to never offer to touch him at any other time. He seems to have calmed down from whatever was bugging him. This may sound strange, but he actually leaned on me when were in line for burgers tonight. I didn't say anything or even react, but it was a gesture I'm sure he has no idea how grateful I am for. And don't doubt it, before we went out I was giving him any excuse I could think of not to come. I was annoyed with him- like I am every time. Tonight only occurred after earlier in the week he post-poned because of work. I don't mind about work getting in the way, but the number one thing that bugs me about him is his complete inability to communicate anything of substance.
I am Casey, and knowing who I am means I also know the two things I love the most: gentle touch, and words of affirmation. Since Jeremy will NOT touch me without absolute cause, and he must have broken the part of his brain that makes it possible for him to say anything nice, I often feel a deep resentment towards him. (As a side note, he also tends to hide what's going on in his life from me, for one reason or another. I can't figure out why.) So what I did mind about the post-ponement was that he didn't say anything that hinted at his regretting the lost time together. I know, it sounds girly. But I think I did the right thing by responding that it would be nice to hear that he wanted to see me. Five minutes pass with no response resulting in his reply offering to try Friday (tonight) instead. I couldn't have been more blunt about what I wanted. Still- he chose the cowards route. I hate cowards.
So, yes the evening started off with me being a little upset. (Also I should mention this might be one of the last times I see him because he told me he had decided to date this new girl he met. While the thought of him banging some chick that he's not in love with makes me sick to my stomach, it's the way of the heathen world and I have to accept it... and find friends who don't disappoint me.) Not to mention the mini-fight I just had with blake a few hours before I was still steaming about. But as always, we had a short time together eating and laughing, mostly it was me listening to his stories about movies and asking questions. It doesn't bother me because I don't have to entertain. And something inside me, when we do hang out, let's me know that he actually does enjoy hanging out with me. Even if the tumor in his brain makes it impossible to say so. So, I park his car and get out. He gives me a strong hug and asks if I'm feeling better about Blake. And I am. I feel much better. I've eaten, for one thing. And for another, I don't know why, but I enjoy my time with Jeremy.
I'm sure that anyone reading this would assume I'm in love with him. And I don't know how many times I've had to say it and I'll keep saying it- I'M NOT. I've BEEN in love before- more than once and I know what it feels like. I know what it's like to have a crush and what it's like to hate someone so badly that it's actually a CRAZY crush. But this isn't like that. I feel like he's my older brother and a hand on my head is more satisfying than a hand on my butt. Who knows why I've put him in the roll of old brother, but I have. and that's disappointing on some levels. and it can be difficult when I want to show him affection but I don't know that he knows it's all platonic. He might freak out again and leave me. I don't know what's going on in his head. His friend (who drunk-kissed me in a bar the second time I ever met him) told me that Jeremy once described me as "cute". Which might be the first and last inclination I'll believe that he honestly thinks so. And it is important to me. Maybe I have to explain this over and over not to convince myself of some lie because I can't face the truth. But rather because I, myself, and mystified by it. Being with someone who makes you happy should equate to your wanting to date them, right? And why the HELL would I put any weight into this idiot's opinion, I may never know. But I'm glad we're friends. and whatever day we may stop being friends. I hope it's gentle. and not because it would weird out one of our significant others- which happened earlier this year. (but we both ending up breaking off our respective relationships.) But I hope it's because we forget and never notice drifting. Or maybe we'll always stay friends and who ever I decide to put my faith in would understand that my heart is deep and has room for lots of people.
Because i lied enough as a child to my mother, I don't want to do it again.
........ of course it might be just that every time I see him I get full of food and THAT makes me happy! :D
Friday, December 30, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Butthead
Dear Butthead,
No, I don't want a medal. Obviously my hope for a civil response was too high. Forgive me, I underestimated your talent for demeaning my good intentions. Thanks for the reminder.
Sincerely,
Denigrated
No, I don't want a medal. Obviously my hope for a civil response was too high. Forgive me, I underestimated your talent for demeaning my good intentions. Thanks for the reminder.
Sincerely,
Denigrated
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Apple Mush
Okay, now I can feel okay about writing again. I just did not know what to do with the epic 100. I feel strangely proud.
I had 3 things I wanted to get done tonight. But as I booted my computer up to play my latest netflix while I did them, I was derailed when checking my email. A letter. Or more like a re-telling of a part of my life. Happy or sad, proud or not, I read it all. And Sunday, someone came to my door- just as I had always fantasized, but under the worst circumstances.
I'm just wondering- I feel up tonight because I took an extra hit of my meds so maybe now is the best time to ask this- Am I done yet? Did I learn everything I'm supposed to? No, of course not. But tonight was the first time I drove by Maytime without thinking about the lost love living only a few yards away. And I feel more confident about my path towards being forgiven for my foolishness. I'm cutting down my loses. I closed my OKC profile. I'm eating a pre-packaged lunch everyday (despite still skipping breakfast and dinner- I swear this is an improvement.) I even made it to work 10 minutes early with a shower.
I have one more date tomorrow that I agreed to go on. I hope this won't end up like they all do. I hope I can find that old peace I used to have by just being alone, with no desire for anything more. Can I just work until it's time to sleep? Let me be content with my lack of relationships- it's better that I don't get involved with anyone. Then I never cry or screw up or put anyone through any pain. I can be like I always wanted to be- Madam. Dolly. Or any other wealthy, bright, creative, and quirky older woman who never married.
Don't get me wrong, I want to get married. I want a wedding with cake, and beautiful kids that look like me and the man I fell in love with, and a house of my own to care for and to decorate. I really do want someone to hold my hand and laugh at me when I am being over dramatic or clumsy. But is it even worth trying if it always ends up a mess?
I don't want to be like my mother. She might be considered a version of Madam- living for herself, thriving in her old age, independent and brilliant. But she also can't hold down a serious relationship as witnessed by her forth marriage, her three thoroughly abused (and perhaps abandoned) children, with a manipulative and selfish lifestyle that grinds on all that's beautiful in the world. But if I had to make the choice between harming good people in an attempt to find love, and just staying single for the rest of my life- the latter sounds better.
But no, life cannot be so easy. I get pulled into these charming and aggressive men with their honesty and affection. How I adored making him smile, it's too much a part of my nature to want to love him. And if only it could be as easy as, "be sweet and kind to everyone and if you are always be honest and upfront- they'll respect you." No. Instead there are crossed lines and deep guilt mixed with temptation and curiosity. In those times when I let myself go, sweet memories are stained and the things that are supposed to bring a singular happiness make me sick to my stomach. Like a "love bite" is supposed to be just that- a sign of Love. Not a bruise that makes me so ashamed that I don't want to look at myself in the mirror. Especially one that I did not receive willingly, but was somewhat forced on me (resulting from my bad choices, I completely admit).
My tongue has mostly only known fruits with poison. If I had protected my maiden pride, perhaps I wouldn't be so terrified of tasting again. But thinking back now, I realize how in the dark I was before Kai, who opened me up to the grove. He was the one who showed me what everyone else had known for most of their lives and it really was about time I learned about it and started to wander the forest so I could start my journey towards marriage. I'll be forever grateful to him for sharing that deliciousness with me but it wasn't ripe yet. I wonder now, if I'm too damaged for anyone. Because of my childishness and lack of understanding, I don't know how to pick the right ones. Then maybe if I ever do find one ripe enough for me that will nourish my body and strengthen my spirit, will it taste strange to my tainted taste-buds? Will I even know how to eat it? OR will I clumsily mush it between my fingers?
So back to my original question- am I done for a while now? Can I go back outside the grove where there is no fruit and no failure? No broken hearts or tears or yelling or frustration or bruises?
No applesauce on my shoes?
I had 3 things I wanted to get done tonight. But as I booted my computer up to play my latest netflix while I did them, I was derailed when checking my email. A letter. Or more like a re-telling of a part of my life. Happy or sad, proud or not, I read it all. And Sunday, someone came to my door- just as I had always fantasized, but under the worst circumstances.
I'm just wondering- I feel up tonight because I took an extra hit of my meds so maybe now is the best time to ask this- Am I done yet? Did I learn everything I'm supposed to? No, of course not. But tonight was the first time I drove by Maytime without thinking about the lost love living only a few yards away. And I feel more confident about my path towards being forgiven for my foolishness. I'm cutting down my loses. I closed my OKC profile. I'm eating a pre-packaged lunch everyday (despite still skipping breakfast and dinner- I swear this is an improvement.) I even made it to work 10 minutes early with a shower.
I have one more date tomorrow that I agreed to go on. I hope this won't end up like they all do. I hope I can find that old peace I used to have by just being alone, with no desire for anything more. Can I just work until it's time to sleep? Let me be content with my lack of relationships- it's better that I don't get involved with anyone. Then I never cry or screw up or put anyone through any pain. I can be like I always wanted to be- Madam. Dolly. Or any other wealthy, bright, creative, and quirky older woman who never married.
Don't get me wrong, I want to get married. I want a wedding with cake, and beautiful kids that look like me and the man I fell in love with, and a house of my own to care for and to decorate. I really do want someone to hold my hand and laugh at me when I am being over dramatic or clumsy. But is it even worth trying if it always ends up a mess?
I don't want to be like my mother. She might be considered a version of Madam- living for herself, thriving in her old age, independent and brilliant. But she also can't hold down a serious relationship as witnessed by her forth marriage, her three thoroughly abused (and perhaps abandoned) children, with a manipulative and selfish lifestyle that grinds on all that's beautiful in the world. But if I had to make the choice between harming good people in an attempt to find love, and just staying single for the rest of my life- the latter sounds better.
But no, life cannot be so easy. I get pulled into these charming and aggressive men with their honesty and affection. How I adored making him smile, it's too much a part of my nature to want to love him. And if only it could be as easy as, "be sweet and kind to everyone and if you are always be honest and upfront- they'll respect you." No. Instead there are crossed lines and deep guilt mixed with temptation and curiosity. In those times when I let myself go, sweet memories are stained and the things that are supposed to bring a singular happiness make me sick to my stomach. Like a "love bite" is supposed to be just that- a sign of Love. Not a bruise that makes me so ashamed that I don't want to look at myself in the mirror. Especially one that I did not receive willingly, but was somewhat forced on me (resulting from my bad choices, I completely admit).
My tongue has mostly only known fruits with poison. If I had protected my maiden pride, perhaps I wouldn't be so terrified of tasting again. But thinking back now, I realize how in the dark I was before Kai, who opened me up to the grove. He was the one who showed me what everyone else had known for most of their lives and it really was about time I learned about it and started to wander the forest so I could start my journey towards marriage. I'll be forever grateful to him for sharing that deliciousness with me but it wasn't ripe yet. I wonder now, if I'm too damaged for anyone. Because of my childishness and lack of understanding, I don't know how to pick the right ones. Then maybe if I ever do find one ripe enough for me that will nourish my body and strengthen my spirit, will it taste strange to my tainted taste-buds? Will I even know how to eat it? OR will I clumsily mush it between my fingers?
So back to my original question- am I done for a while now? Can I go back outside the grove where there is no fruit and no failure? No broken hearts or tears or yelling or frustration or bruises?
No applesauce on my shoes?
Friday, October 21, 2011
It's Healthy to Hate Me.
I’m not a manipulative person, although I believe I know how. My mother is a gold medalist in it and having been a victim of that kind of torment, I’m keenly aware of it’s presence in me. For others, I suppose they do their best to influence people around them resulting in some kind of semi-success. I wonder if my belief that I have great power prevents me from using it- resulting in subjecting myself to other’s will more often than an average person. I don’t mean this to beg for pity- POOR CASEY. SMART *AND* ABUSED.
My mother required us to lie to survive. Even about things that didn’t matter. While in a normal situation, you could just say, “Traffic made me late” (because that’s the truth), you’d get accused of lying or cheating by my mother. Instead you’d have to come up with some elaborate story and bear evidence. Otherwise you didn’t love her enough.
Dear person who I have not spoken to in over a year who suddenly sends me messages about rekindling our "relationship", if I told you the truth, I think you’d hate me. Even if I could make you see what I see, I’m sure you’d twist my good intentions into a wretched caniving plot to ruin your life. All I can do is put up my hands and say “Yes indeed, I’m a harpy from the 7th circle of Hell, the whore of the earth, placed here by the devil himself to ruin your life and make absolutely SURE that you’ll never be happy again.” It makes people feel better to believe the one who wounded them is an awful person. I admit to not being perfect. And I’m still finding the balance between being good to others and protecting myself. But I’m not such an awful person. My heart, once owned by a man, is not tough enough to weather the storms of disappointment again.
One example which will probably expose me; I’m still developing the discipline to stay awaaaaaaaay sexually from men I want but can’t have. I get so attached emotionally and the physical is always right behind. But it’s tough to keep up an appropriate wall when someone is nibbling on my ear. If I had to blame anything, I’d say I’m a late bloomer and all the physical exploits I’ve missed out on are suddenly trying to make up for lost time and holy crap I have not built any defenses. O_o It’s all new to me! I lack discipline this way, it’s true. So why does it seem that everyone else can get away with it and I cannot? Why do people I know prefer a violent severance?
It would be nice to blame others for not taking my word for it when I explain that it’s not going to work... but instead I’m going to assume it’s always my fault. Because *I* can’t handle casual sex or a meaningless relationship, you can hate me. Perhaps I am the charmingly malicious harpy people think I am.
Despite that, I don’t think you want to hear the much worse truth. The truth is, I don’t miss you. I don't think that makes me a bad person, but there is no sympathy for people like me. So hate me. And feel better.
You know one of the cruelest things ******* ever said to me? That if he had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. Yet I'm the vindictive one. Right?
P.s. I saw *** this week. He bought me a peach smoothie. Beginning to end was about 45 minutes, which is less than a blip compared to the enormity of a lifetime. I thought it might be a stupid thing, allowing myself to retrieve those old sweet memories. It might have broken open the stitches painstakingly sewed into my heart because I know I haven’t stopped loving him. But the infection of loneliness has been worked out my system it seems. If anything, I felt relieved. The little voice is confirmed and now I know it for sure.
You know what I may like most? I can tell him the truth, and he'd never hate me. Tell me where can I find another guy like that?
My mother required us to lie to survive. Even about things that didn’t matter. While in a normal situation, you could just say, “Traffic made me late” (because that’s the truth), you’d get accused of lying or cheating by my mother. Instead you’d have to come up with some elaborate story and bear evidence. Otherwise you didn’t love her enough.
Dear person who I have not spoken to in over a year who suddenly sends me messages about rekindling our "relationship", if I told you the truth, I think you’d hate me. Even if I could make you see what I see, I’m sure you’d twist my good intentions into a wretched caniving plot to ruin your life. All I can do is put up my hands and say “Yes indeed, I’m a harpy from the 7th circle of Hell, the whore of the earth, placed here by the devil himself to ruin your life and make absolutely SURE that you’ll never be happy again.” It makes people feel better to believe the one who wounded them is an awful person. I admit to not being perfect. And I’m still finding the balance between being good to others and protecting myself. But I’m not such an awful person. My heart, once owned by a man, is not tough enough to weather the storms of disappointment again.
One example which will probably expose me; I’m still developing the discipline to stay awaaaaaaaay sexually from men I want but can’t have. I get so attached emotionally and the physical is always right behind. But it’s tough to keep up an appropriate wall when someone is nibbling on my ear. If I had to blame anything, I’d say I’m a late bloomer and all the physical exploits I’ve missed out on are suddenly trying to make up for lost time and holy crap I have not built any defenses. O_o It’s all new to me! I lack discipline this way, it’s true. So why does it seem that everyone else can get away with it and I cannot? Why do people I know prefer a violent severance?
It would be nice to blame others for not taking my word for it when I explain that it’s not going to work... but instead I’m going to assume it’s always my fault. Because *I* can’t handle casual sex or a meaningless relationship, you can hate me. Perhaps I am the charmingly malicious harpy people think I am.
Despite that, I don’t think you want to hear the much worse truth. The truth is, I don’t miss you. I don't think that makes me a bad person, but there is no sympathy for people like me. So hate me. And feel better.
You know one of the cruelest things ******* ever said to me? That if he had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. Yet I'm the vindictive one. Right?
P.s. I saw *** this week. He bought me a peach smoothie. Beginning to end was about 45 minutes, which is less than a blip compared to the enormity of a lifetime. I thought it might be a stupid thing, allowing myself to retrieve those old sweet memories. It might have broken open the stitches painstakingly sewed into my heart because I know I haven’t stopped loving him. But the infection of loneliness has been worked out my system it seems. If anything, I felt relieved. The little voice is confirmed and now I know it for sure.
You know what I may like most? I can tell him the truth, and he'd never hate me. Tell me where can I find another guy like that?
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tears at Sunrise.
Huh. So Oct 10 of 2010 apparently I woke up thinking about ***.
Looks like I'm at it again. I had a dream and as I woke up from it I could hear myself saying allowed, "Why are you so wonderful? I miss you. I miss you." As soon as I knew I was awake I started to cry. Cry? Really? The last two days I haven't been sleeping well. The consequence of course is that I'm very sleepy at work. So I went to bed early as I could (just after forcing myself to eat.) And life just woke me up at 6:20. Just when I was feeling like so many things are finally going in the right direction (and I pray they stay that way) why am I suddenly like this? I thought I was doing well. I mean, even in my dream the obstacles to our being together still existed. but he smelled so good. And I got the chance to stare at his beautiful face in the way he looks in photos- happy and unencumbered.
I never told anyone this but, for some reason during my most self deprecating moment, that I heard something whisper to me a truth that I cling to from time to time. It isn't often that a sweet and tender mercy like this is shared with me for no other reason than to give comfort. It might be pathetic to need a reassurance like this, but I can't deny that I am in fact a girl, and sometimes girls just need to hear it. The voice told me that he'll always love me. How strange.
This dream and waking up this way won't change any other path I'm on. I'm still interested in whom I'm interested in, I'll be chased and chase and date the same way and maybe soon I'll find someone real enough to hold on to that I won't have to wonder whither it's right or wrong. Despite that, I guess it must prove true- I know what being in love feels like. It's still painful.
ps. sorry about this. I just wanted to get it off my chest.
Looks like I'm at it again. I had a dream and as I woke up from it I could hear myself saying allowed, "Why are you so wonderful? I miss you. I miss you." As soon as I knew I was awake I started to cry. Cry? Really? The last two days I haven't been sleeping well. The consequence of course is that I'm very sleepy at work. So I went to bed early as I could (just after forcing myself to eat.) And life just woke me up at 6:20. Just when I was feeling like so many things are finally going in the right direction (and I pray they stay that way) why am I suddenly like this? I thought I was doing well. I mean, even in my dream the obstacles to our being together still existed. but he smelled so good. And I got the chance to stare at his beautiful face in the way he looks in photos- happy and unencumbered.
I never told anyone this but, for some reason during my most self deprecating moment, that I heard something whisper to me a truth that I cling to from time to time. It isn't often that a sweet and tender mercy like this is shared with me for no other reason than to give comfort. It might be pathetic to need a reassurance like this, but I can't deny that I am in fact a girl, and sometimes girls just need to hear it. The voice told me that he'll always love me. How strange.
This dream and waking up this way won't change any other path I'm on. I'm still interested in whom I'm interested in, I'll be chased and chase and date the same way and maybe soon I'll find someone real enough to hold on to that I won't have to wonder whither it's right or wrong. Despite that, I guess it must prove true- I know what being in love feels like. It's still painful.
ps. sorry about this. I just wanted to get it off my chest.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
asking for help
ohno
she's not going to come. She's going to leave me to do this alone. I don't want to do this by myself. I worked so hard and lost so much time so we could do this together.
Please don't make me do this by myself Aino chan.
stupid girl I am for trying again. dumb girl.
so if she doesn't come, should I cancel? or try? if I cancel, everyone will know we're unreliable. and if I do it alone... not only will I look stupid but i really need to eat. i want dinner so badly and with her help i could have relaxed. but if not, then I have to do all this alone. I spent all day getting this ready and she let me down.
This must be my fault. I should just quit trying things I can't do by myself.
You know, I was kinda playing at washing my car the other day. I took a bucket of water and soap with rags and things out into the street. I was embarrased for a while doing it in mid-day but soon it was just fun. Until a person who had been appraently watching me from his window came out and gently told me I was being stupid, and offered his hose and materials. I was so embarrassed. I politely told him I had time to waste anyway and laughed it off. but for some reason I was hurt. I probably needed help and any normal person would have used this person's offer to their advantage. But my pride was hurt so I sat on the curb trying to look relaxed for a while.
But look what happens when I try to ask for help. No one comes. I can't believe she's not coming. I'd rather cry than change into my uniform. I don't want to do this alone.
[edit] it's over now and I was able to pull off something awkward but in between. Plus I got to watch a little sailor moon. I feel like a huge chunk of my day was wasted and my body feels like a boney doll with not enough stuffing. My dad would be proud though, I got the mic out of the box. I think the best word for it is feeling beat.
I'm beat. just let me re spawn someplace else. It's like I'm playing the video game "life" but I got the controller with the sticky joystick. oi
she's not going to come. She's going to leave me to do this alone. I don't want to do this by myself. I worked so hard and lost so much time so we could do this together.
Please don't make me do this by myself Aino chan.
stupid girl I am for trying again. dumb girl.
so if she doesn't come, should I cancel? or try? if I cancel, everyone will know we're unreliable. and if I do it alone... not only will I look stupid but i really need to eat. i want dinner so badly and with her help i could have relaxed. but if not, then I have to do all this alone. I spent all day getting this ready and she let me down.
This must be my fault. I should just quit trying things I can't do by myself.
You know, I was kinda playing at washing my car the other day. I took a bucket of water and soap with rags and things out into the street. I was embarrased for a while doing it in mid-day but soon it was just fun. Until a person who had been appraently watching me from his window came out and gently told me I was being stupid, and offered his hose and materials. I was so embarrassed. I politely told him I had time to waste anyway and laughed it off. but for some reason I was hurt. I probably needed help and any normal person would have used this person's offer to their advantage. But my pride was hurt so I sat on the curb trying to look relaxed for a while.
But look what happens when I try to ask for help. No one comes. I can't believe she's not coming. I'd rather cry than change into my uniform. I don't want to do this alone.
[edit] it's over now and I was able to pull off something awkward but in between. Plus I got to watch a little sailor moon. I feel like a huge chunk of my day was wasted and my body feels like a boney doll with not enough stuffing. My dad would be proud though, I got the mic out of the box. I think the best word for it is feeling beat.
I'm beat. just let me re spawn someplace else. It's like I'm playing the video game "life" but I got the controller with the sticky joystick. oi
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Dig those CRAZY TUNES
Oi. I have a headache.
Let's see how this goes. I don't want to privatize this blog but certain events make it tempting. Very tempting.
I'm so particular about my privacy. Today I went to Ralph's to do some shopping and I did something I haven't done since I wandered the streets of Lawndale on Ventura: I listened to my ipod. I have a bad habit that once I own most songs, I get bored of them. I adore happening upon the ones I love most rather than having them all there at my bec and call.
But tonight I dipped my toes back into that dusty pool of music and had fun. I can't help it, when the music is so loud in my ears, I really feel like the world is gone. even though I can see it around me, I don't care about people seeing me practice "Ookina Ai" or hearing me sing in front of the cottage cheese. They're strangers and I'll never see them again. And when I'm so happy, I just don't care as much as a normal person should.
But I thought as I walked closer to home with the bags on my arms, I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing my playlist with anyone. In fact, in all the times of my life that I've been forced to, I get very embarrassed. I'l apologize for the random Anime-pop song or the animaniacs tunes. I'll blush when the next song is really the chapter to an audiobook. I don't really collect popular music. and when people suddenly want to hear my playlist, it isn't often that they want to hear the classical songs. So I struggled for a while. Then at some point I made a playlist of all the 'normal' songs that I could present to people. But the moment i made it, suddenly no one asked to hear what was on my playlist.
Now, consciously I say to myself that I understand my tastes are a strange blend no one can be expected to follow it. I think to myself that I don't need a significant other to really love Sailor V manga the way that I do. Or carrots, Or peach soda, or public transit. People could support me, but I have low expectations that someone might be willing to join me in all these things. Is that bad? Should I wait until I find someone who I feel I can share these things with openly without fear or do wait until someone forcibly pries it out of me like my playlists? Or was I right all along and it was fine to expect that no person could be expected to understand and appreciate some of these things.
But as I think about it I think about the stuff I like. I love hats and gloves and scarves. I love big hoop earrings and mint fudge but white hot chocolate. i like my hotdogs plain and my foreign films in their original language. I think asian women are the most beautiful creatures on earth but I don't care for lady bugs or strawberries. I'm a child when I play with bubbles in the sink but I'm dead serious when in a rehearsal. My new white shoes look like bunny feet on me and while I can't stand the idea of wasting 60 cents on junk food for myself, I won't blink when it comes to paying 60$ for my friend's dinner because their happiness is what I save up for. Goodness but this list makes me think too much about myself. In the name of attempting to be self-aware I suppose it's alright. Although I like myself fine, I doubt that others will.
Now that I think about it, my bio-mother told me that once when I first moved to L.A.; before I could find someone who'll love me, I'd have to put 'all that stuff' (she was referring to anime) behind me. Well that's once source not to trust. But she is a voice of the world.
Short hair, super skinny girl. Never quite the round peg in a round hole.
ps. I have GOT to get control of my libido. >_< DAMN DIRTY GIRL.
Let's see how this goes. I don't want to privatize this blog but certain events make it tempting. Very tempting.
I'm so particular about my privacy. Today I went to Ralph's to do some shopping and I did something I haven't done since I wandered the streets of Lawndale on Ventura: I listened to my ipod. I have a bad habit that once I own most songs, I get bored of them. I adore happening upon the ones I love most rather than having them all there at my bec and call.
But tonight I dipped my toes back into that dusty pool of music and had fun. I can't help it, when the music is so loud in my ears, I really feel like the world is gone. even though I can see it around me, I don't care about people seeing me practice "Ookina Ai" or hearing me sing in front of the cottage cheese. They're strangers and I'll never see them again. And when I'm so happy, I just don't care as much as a normal person should.
But I thought as I walked closer to home with the bags on my arms, I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing my playlist with anyone. In fact, in all the times of my life that I've been forced to, I get very embarrassed. I'l apologize for the random Anime-pop song or the animaniacs tunes. I'll blush when the next song is really the chapter to an audiobook. I don't really collect popular music. and when people suddenly want to hear my playlist, it isn't often that they want to hear the classical songs. So I struggled for a while. Then at some point I made a playlist of all the 'normal' songs that I could present to people. But the moment i made it, suddenly no one asked to hear what was on my playlist.
Now, consciously I say to myself that I understand my tastes are a strange blend no one can be expected to follow it. I think to myself that I don't need a significant other to really love Sailor V manga the way that I do. Or carrots, Or peach soda, or public transit. People could support me, but I have low expectations that someone might be willing to join me in all these things. Is that bad? Should I wait until I find someone who I feel I can share these things with openly without fear or do wait until someone forcibly pries it out of me like my playlists? Or was I right all along and it was fine to expect that no person could be expected to understand and appreciate some of these things.
But as I think about it I think about the stuff I like. I love hats and gloves and scarves. I love big hoop earrings and mint fudge but white hot chocolate. i like my hotdogs plain and my foreign films in their original language. I think asian women are the most beautiful creatures on earth but I don't care for lady bugs or strawberries. I'm a child when I play with bubbles in the sink but I'm dead serious when in a rehearsal. My new white shoes look like bunny feet on me and while I can't stand the idea of wasting 60 cents on junk food for myself, I won't blink when it comes to paying 60$ for my friend's dinner because their happiness is what I save up for. Goodness but this list makes me think too much about myself. In the name of attempting to be self-aware I suppose it's alright. Although I like myself fine, I doubt that others will.
Now that I think about it, my bio-mother told me that once when I first moved to L.A.; before I could find someone who'll love me, I'd have to put 'all that stuff' (she was referring to anime) behind me. Well that's once source not to trust. But she is a voice of the world.
Short hair, super skinny girl. Never quite the round peg in a round hole.
ps. I have GOT to get control of my libido. >_< DAMN DIRTY GIRL.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
5 new interviews doesn't excuse bad old habits
let's see how much energy I have left.
my dad calls me "wonder woman". I don't think he meant it sincerely, but it was probably an inopportune moment to ask for anything more clever or sincere.
5 interviews today. the first three were on the phone starting at 8:30, 10:00, and then 11:00. At noon I dressed and went to my 1:00 interview with Ajilon downtown. I must have parked in the wrong place because it cost me 12bucks and change. And on my way there my gas light went on. So I navigated some strangled beeline to a chevron and picked up a bigmac as well, worried i'd sweat though my interviewing suit just after I had it dry cleaned. I would have then gone straight to hollywood but I forgot to write down the address of the place I was going. so home it was. I left at 3:45 and arrive in north hollywood at 5:20 for a 5o'clock group appointment just after my "check Engine" light went off. Great. I must have looked like such a child to them. I felt like a child. but I plastered on a confident grin and tried to bare it. I don't think I got that job. All the better, that commute is hell.
Immediately as I began to travel home I felt his huge wave of exaughstion hit me. I eeked home on the freeway past the hollywood bowl which had a huge inconvenient performance tonight that forced me to sit even longer in my car.On my way home I picked up a microwave dinner, english muffins, and more oriental top ramen. But I didn't end up eating any of it. I just put away my things, changed clothes, and blacked out on my couch next to my roommate who was also napping on her couch while the TV played some crime drama I felt was pretty poorly acted.
I got in a little frog breeding but other than that, my ipad died from lack of power and so did I. Just now I made myself an english muffin for dinner and changed into Pjs before checking my phone for messages.
because I have so many good prospects in the works, I'm not going to muddle my time with more applications. most of them i should hear back by tomorrow if I go on to the next step. So my goals are to:
- eat three times
- clean my room (a huge task on any given day)
- do at least one load of laundry
- shower
- wash my car like I've been dying to
- fillout the ue online form
- sign up for driving school
- pay my LATEST ticket. -_-
- ignore my car troubles
- and maybe... go? On a picnic? to the getty? To ROyalT to sit with my laptop and write out my essays with a vanilla cupcake and mint hot coco to my side. You know, the kinds of things I always wish I could do when I'm working like crazy.
Just one dream tomorrow, that's all I ask.
I'm getting more and more disappointed/frustrated with my waning friendship with the insouciant *******. He's getting to be lame, and that's his fault. I keep catching myself thinking of plots to get him to know what I want or what I'm thinking. Then I remember that's sick and I should only be acting on and about what I can control. And his nonchalance about me is disturbing. I'd like a replacement- but that's sick too. I'm disappointed to find I was so transient. I liked to think I was special. :/ I have to face facts though. and try to limit how angry I sound when I talk to him because I know how useless it all is. I'd like to cut it all off suddenly, but if I did then either he'd try to fix it (without the ability to) or worse- do nothing. Thereby confirming my phobia of being so replaceable.
It makes me want to reach out to other personified crutches for support. But I'm trying to resist that. Of all the times in life I need God's help, now isn't a good time to fall into bad old habits.
....although. ALong those lines, guess who finally sent me a little email? You got it. And I was over the moon with squishy girly joy.
Talk about bad habits.
I need sleep.
my dad calls me "wonder woman". I don't think he meant it sincerely, but it was probably an inopportune moment to ask for anything more clever or sincere.
5 interviews today. the first three were on the phone starting at 8:30, 10:00, and then 11:00. At noon I dressed and went to my 1:00 interview with Ajilon downtown. I must have parked in the wrong place because it cost me 12bucks and change. And on my way there my gas light went on. So I navigated some strangled beeline to a chevron and picked up a bigmac as well, worried i'd sweat though my interviewing suit just after I had it dry cleaned. I would have then gone straight to hollywood but I forgot to write down the address of the place I was going. so home it was. I left at 3:45 and arrive in north hollywood at 5:20 for a 5o'clock group appointment just after my "check Engine" light went off. Great. I must have looked like such a child to them. I felt like a child. but I plastered on a confident grin and tried to bare it. I don't think I got that job. All the better, that commute is hell.
Immediately as I began to travel home I felt his huge wave of exaughstion hit me. I eeked home on the freeway past the hollywood bowl which had a huge inconvenient performance tonight that forced me to sit even longer in my car.On my way home I picked up a microwave dinner, english muffins, and more oriental top ramen. But I didn't end up eating any of it. I just put away my things, changed clothes, and blacked out on my couch next to my roommate who was also napping on her couch while the TV played some crime drama I felt was pretty poorly acted.
I got in a little frog breeding but other than that, my ipad died from lack of power and so did I. Just now I made myself an english muffin for dinner and changed into Pjs before checking my phone for messages.
because I have so many good prospects in the works, I'm not going to muddle my time with more applications. most of them i should hear back by tomorrow if I go on to the next step. So my goals are to:
- eat three times
- clean my room (a huge task on any given day)
- do at least one load of laundry
- shower
- wash my car like I've been dying to
- fillout the ue online form
- sign up for driving school
- pay my LATEST ticket. -_-
- ignore my car troubles
- and maybe... go? On a picnic? to the getty? To ROyalT to sit with my laptop and write out my essays with a vanilla cupcake and mint hot coco to my side. You know, the kinds of things I always wish I could do when I'm working like crazy.
Just one dream tomorrow, that's all I ask.
I'm getting more and more disappointed/frustrated with my waning friendship with the insouciant *******. He's getting to be lame, and that's his fault. I keep catching myself thinking of plots to get him to know what I want or what I'm thinking. Then I remember that's sick and I should only be acting on and about what I can control. And his nonchalance about me is disturbing. I'd like a replacement- but that's sick too. I'm disappointed to find I was so transient. I liked to think I was special. :/ I have to face facts though. and try to limit how angry I sound when I talk to him because I know how useless it all is. I'd like to cut it all off suddenly, but if I did then either he'd try to fix it (without the ability to) or worse- do nothing. Thereby confirming my phobia of being so replaceable.
It makes me want to reach out to other personified crutches for support. But I'm trying to resist that. Of all the times in life I need God's help, now isn't a good time to fall into bad old habits.
....although. ALong those lines, guess who finally sent me a little email? You got it. And I was over the moon with squishy girly joy.
Talk about bad habits.
I need sleep.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
SKIP THE DRAMA
Frik. I lost my journal entry for the day.
It's probably for the best. I'm just in a mood.
mdjsdoeihdea...
It's probably for the best. I'm just in a mood.
mdjsdoeihdea...
Monday, August 15, 2011
On the hunt
Thoughts on my first day of job hunting:
I need to get a serious Japanese tutor so I can learn to hear and understand Japanese at the proper rate. I can get it if I have the chance to take it apart but I get so nervous when faced with a native speaker. This could be a problem.
Per my normal routine with my roommate, it may be best if I conduct my job hunt outside of home. I don't want her to worry, or be distracted. Plus, we had a good thing going on with not seeing each other ever... she just came home and I have the urge to get out.
I filed. yay. I hope it goes smoothly.
Now that I'm home all day I really do want to eat all day. which means i should start packing lunches if I intend to go out to look for work. Huzzah wi-fi btw.
3:12 and 22 applications sent.
I need to get a serious Japanese tutor so I can learn to hear and understand Japanese at the proper rate. I can get it if I have the chance to take it apart but I get so nervous when faced with a native speaker. This could be a problem.
Per my normal routine with my roommate, it may be best if I conduct my job hunt outside of home. I don't want her to worry, or be distracted. Plus, we had a good thing going on with not seeing each other ever... she just came home and I have the urge to get out.
I filed. yay. I hope it goes smoothly.
Now that I'm home all day I really do want to eat all day. which means i should start packing lunches if I intend to go out to look for work. Huzzah wi-fi btw.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
My job here is done.
It had ossured to me before to do this but I never seemed to really to get the idea at the right time.
I am here late and I thought maybe I should steal some pens before I leave (Friday is my last day here). I went to the drawer that used to have a huge stack of pens in Howard's office. But when I went to dig inside I found something else.
Even though I said "sorry" in my head about a thousand times, I read it anyway. It pertained to me anyway. At least partially. On top was what will soon be an "agreement of separation" form I will be asked to sign. basicly so I can't come after howard for unemployment. I read it carefully to see if I should sign it. I'm still not sure if I should. He owes me for the placements we've made, even if the clients have not yet paid him. But under that was another file folder. It was dated for May of this year and inside was a professional recomendation concerning fileing for bankruptsy. Along the margins on one of the inside pages, Howard had scribbled, "can you file twice?"
I went through the rest of it and I found a few pathetic numbers.
and I feel guilty. I wonder if Howard has ever cried about this and then come to work the next day and had to look at me. the girl he's paying who right under his nose is running a completly separate business that's also failing. So it seems like I let down everyone.
from a logical standpoint I could say that it was his call to keep me when I wasn't turning in the numbers he wanted. If he thought that my work wasn't worth the pay, he shold have let me go. ALthough now I can see perfectly why he snubbed me on spiffs. how could he afford to lose even a little bit? I could also say that I'm not very good at recruiting. Even if it's only because my extreme distaste for it makes me a bad employee. After 3 years, I cannot muster enough motivation to get out all that a human could in one day. No matter the goal. But even when I really was giving it my all, staying up all night, making the calls I loathed, embarassing myself night after night for weeks, I was so burned out... when the company dropped us and all my work was to pot, I lost whatever motivation kept me here.
Such a tiny percentage of what work we do here bares fruit that it's an incredably discouraging job. But no one knows that better than Howard. He's a salesman and he thrives on the hard work. so i guess he wanted to try this... and I just couldn't help him. He put his money on the wrong person I guess. Literally.
He seems happier these days. I really prefer that. and I'm happier too. I wonder if the bussiness is picking up or he's finding out that bankrupsy will let him keep his house?
Where as in my case, I thought I was having a coniption over wiether I should go out to lunch or try to save what I can before becomeing 'funemployeed'. I worry. Too much? Not enough to make me go go go?
So what should I do? I think instead of applying for 'unemployement' (which I think I could get), maybe It'd be easier to just offer my services on a commission only basis, and in my spare time I'll pull names for Howard. I dunno, you think he'd do it? At least then I could keep my cb and li acess for my own job hunting needs (little useful though they are to it.)
Did I put this man out of business? I would love to own my own business some day. But it is letters like the one I found in Howard's desk that makes me fear the future. I think, "what would I do then?" But I should really be asking, "What am I going to do now?" What's going to happen to me? Who will take me? Is it going to be long lonely worrysome days and hundreds of applications a day while I slowly recess from a social life and try not to concern my roommate? Is it back to being afraid to eat and hopeing I don't get hungry again before I can go to the store? I hated those days.
But in truth, if life really begins to suck the way it used to, then chances are I really will just move home. Back to sacramento like all of my peers to live out protected lives and start again trying to find my purpose. If that's the case then I hope God blesses me with a speedy acceptance and placement in Japan. The shame of it all would be monumentally difficult to bare. It's not really that fun right now.
I am here late and I thought maybe I should steal some pens before I leave (Friday is my last day here). I went to the drawer that used to have a huge stack of pens in Howard's office. But when I went to dig inside I found something else.
Even though I said "sorry" in my head about a thousand times, I read it anyway. It pertained to me anyway. At least partially. On top was what will soon be an "agreement of separation" form I will be asked to sign. basicly so I can't come after howard for unemployment. I read it carefully to see if I should sign it. I'm still not sure if I should. He owes me for the placements we've made, even if the clients have not yet paid him. But under that was another file folder. It was dated for May of this year and inside was a professional recomendation concerning fileing for bankruptsy. Along the margins on one of the inside pages, Howard had scribbled, "can you file twice?"
I went through the rest of it and I found a few pathetic numbers.
and I feel guilty. I wonder if Howard has ever cried about this and then come to work the next day and had to look at me. the girl he's paying who right under his nose is running a completly separate business that's also failing. So it seems like I let down everyone.
from a logical standpoint I could say that it was his call to keep me when I wasn't turning in the numbers he wanted. If he thought that my work wasn't worth the pay, he shold have let me go. ALthough now I can see perfectly why he snubbed me on spiffs. how could he afford to lose even a little bit? I could also say that I'm not very good at recruiting. Even if it's only because my extreme distaste for it makes me a bad employee. After 3 years, I cannot muster enough motivation to get out all that a human could in one day. No matter the goal. But even when I really was giving it my all, staying up all night, making the calls I loathed, embarassing myself night after night for weeks, I was so burned out... when the company dropped us and all my work was to pot, I lost whatever motivation kept me here.
Such a tiny percentage of what work we do here bares fruit that it's an incredably discouraging job. But no one knows that better than Howard. He's a salesman and he thrives on the hard work. so i guess he wanted to try this... and I just couldn't help him. He put his money on the wrong person I guess. Literally.
He seems happier these days. I really prefer that. and I'm happier too. I wonder if the bussiness is picking up or he's finding out that bankrupsy will let him keep his house?
Where as in my case, I thought I was having a coniption over wiether I should go out to lunch or try to save what I can before becomeing 'funemployeed'. I worry. Too much? Not enough to make me go go go?
So what should I do? I think instead of applying for 'unemployement' (which I think I could get), maybe It'd be easier to just offer my services on a commission only basis, and in my spare time I'll pull names for Howard. I dunno, you think he'd do it? At least then I could keep my cb and li acess for my own job hunting needs (little useful though they are to it.)
Did I put this man out of business? I would love to own my own business some day. But it is letters like the one I found in Howard's desk that makes me fear the future. I think, "what would I do then?" But I should really be asking, "What am I going to do now?" What's going to happen to me? Who will take me? Is it going to be long lonely worrysome days and hundreds of applications a day while I slowly recess from a social life and try not to concern my roommate? Is it back to being afraid to eat and hopeing I don't get hungry again before I can go to the store? I hated those days.
But in truth, if life really begins to suck the way it used to, then chances are I really will just move home. Back to sacramento like all of my peers to live out protected lives and start again trying to find my purpose. If that's the case then I hope God blesses me with a speedy acceptance and placement in Japan. The shame of it all would be monumentally difficult to bare. It's not really that fun right now.
"EPIC" fail
For those of you not familiar with the tradition- once a year all the young adult singles (ages 19-31) in the LA area have a film festival. It’s their fourth year running and this year’s theme is James Cameron's Night of Epic Proportions! If you’re not LDS, you probably wouldn’t understand how incredibly stupid this theme is. Let’s just say out of the 5 films of any note that James Cameron has produced, basically none of them are appropriate for this kind of family-friendly event. I’m terrified to see what the ‘Aliens’ booth is going to look like.
But I’ve already put up a decent viral fight against the obvious stupidity before I was silenced by a sweet-spirited tyrant in person. I’ve had to seethe in silence for a few months. This weekend is the festival and normally I would boycott but I ended up being in two of the films. So I’m going. But not without a slight jab on the event page’s wall:
“I'm looking for a dress of "epic proportions". That or I'll just go dressed as the least offensive thing in James Cameron's films- an iceburg. “
So far, my old relief society president has ‘liked’ it and I feel validated.
But what kind of moron writes, “The submitted movie themes must be church appropriate!” right below a request for helpers to make a ‘Dark Angel’ and Terminator booth?
IRONIC ANYONE?
ps. yes, I did just post two entires back to back. I don't feel like working if I'm not going to get paid for it.
But I’ve already put up a decent viral fight against the obvious stupidity before I was silenced by a sweet-spirited tyrant in person. I’ve had to seethe in silence for a few months. This weekend is the festival and normally I would boycott but I ended up being in two of the films. So I’m going. But not without a slight jab on the event page’s wall:
“I'm looking for a dress of "epic proportions". That or I'll just go dressed as the least offensive thing in James Cameron's films- an iceburg. “
So far, my old relief society president has ‘liked’ it and I feel validated.
But what kind of moron writes, “The submitted movie themes must be church appropriate!” right below a request for helpers to make a ‘Dark Angel’ and Terminator booth?
IRONIC ANYONE?
ps. yes, I did just post two entires back to back. I don't feel like working if I'm not going to get paid for it.
More elevator problems?
So I’m left with a woman in the elevator going upwards and we have two floors to go- hers and then mine. Before the last person gets out she starts slamming her thumb over and over into the ^ button. As though if she doesn’t we’re going to fall willy nilly though the shaft unless she reminds the thing that we’re in here. The doors close at exactly the same pace they would have normally (with what I imagine to be a great amount of admirable patience) and we start to rise to our destinations.
The woman sighs in relief and turns to me. “I don’t trust this elevator. Just so you know, I’m not crazy.” Admittedly, these elevators have had their neurological problems in the past, but not that much, and not in any way they you’d need to damage the thing to get it to work right. As she exited, I thought “Doing that doesn’t help your case, lady.”
Why is it I am so keenly aware of the impatience of elevator campanions? Like they have some magic power the rest of us don’t. If I am standing at the bottom waiting for it to arrive, the golden button pointing up is lit up, why is is that others feel the need to push it again? As though I didn’t do it right the first time? Do you have a thumbprint with authority to make it arrive faster? Are you making sure I pushed it hard enough? Will the light go brighter? Does the electrical system prepare for more passengers if it’s pressed more than once? Is that why it’s not enough that YOU push it again, but you need to push it four or five times to make sure it heard you?
What is this?
The woman sighs in relief and turns to me. “I don’t trust this elevator. Just so you know, I’m not crazy.” Admittedly, these elevators have had their neurological problems in the past, but not that much, and not in any way they you’d need to damage the thing to get it to work right. As she exited, I thought “Doing that doesn’t help your case, lady.”
Why is it I am so keenly aware of the impatience of elevator campanions? Like they have some magic power the rest of us don’t. If I am standing at the bottom waiting for it to arrive, the golden button pointing up is lit up, why is is that others feel the need to push it again? As though I didn’t do it right the first time? Do you have a thumbprint with authority to make it arrive faster? Are you making sure I pushed it hard enough? Will the light go brighter? Does the electrical system prepare for more passengers if it’s pressed more than once? Is that why it’s not enough that YOU push it again, but you need to push it four or five times to make sure it heard you?
What is this?
Friday, August 5, 2011
Love is Meme
So I’m cleaning out my computer and I found an old list I had made. Basically, it was a meme- say what ‘love is’ and then a specific circumstance that would prove devotion.
For example, one person wrote, “Love is pausing WOW to take your call.”
The responder said, “Letting you have the last strawberry.” And it goes on.
I don’t think all of the following actually apply to me, but it would make a neat art project to draw the kind of person/creature it did.
I can’t remember what I ultimately went with, but here is the list anyway:
• Never correcting your grammar
• Meeting you with no make up on.
• Letting you pick my next haircut.
• Giving you my last dried peach slice.
• Letting you win the game of wits.
• Trusting you to do my job.
• Doodling your face on my work.
• Pretending the freezing weather doesn’t bother me so I can stay out with you a little longer.
• Sleeping with my phone just in case you had one more text to send.
• Buying you feminine supplies. ._.;
• Saying I love you, even when you already knew it.
• Buying you flowers, just so I have an excuse to bring them to your house.
• Leaving right away because you said you were tired. Even if I wanted to stay.
For example, one person wrote, “Love is pausing WOW to take your call.”
The responder said, “Letting you have the last strawberry.” And it goes on.
I don’t think all of the following actually apply to me, but it would make a neat art project to draw the kind of person/creature it did.
I can’t remember what I ultimately went with, but here is the list anyway:
• Never correcting your grammar
• Meeting you with no make up on.
• Letting you pick my next haircut.
• Giving you my last dried peach slice.
• Letting you win the game of wits.
• Trusting you to do my job.
• Doodling your face on my work.
• Pretending the freezing weather doesn’t bother me so I can stay out with you a little longer.
• Sleeping with my phone just in case you had one more text to send.
• Buying you feminine supplies. ._.;
• Saying I love you, even when you already knew it.
• Buying you flowers, just so I have an excuse to bring them to your house.
• Leaving right away because you said you were tired. Even if I wanted to stay.
Monday, August 1, 2011
My bad. Again.
Y’know one comforting thing in life?
It doesn’t matter what happens, everything is my fault. It doesn’t even matter how many times I apologize and roll over for another beating. The reason I’m being beaten, is my fault. I literally can do nothing but screw up. Especially to guys. It was one of those weekends where I spent almost the entirety being yelled at. And I strive to be humble- which you will doubt 10 seconds after you tell me I’m too hard on myself. (You should really pick which one I am.) but I can only take so much when suddenly it’s 4 am and I haven’t eaten anything all day and another person has called/or emailed to tell what a soulless harpy I am. With so many telling me so, it must be true. It must be nice to know it’s always Casey’s fault. If you haven’t yet, please come take a whack at this dead horse. I can’t feel anything anymore, trust me.
On a related note, I’ve decided to become gay. I will never please anyone so I may as well live as a lesbian mormon and give big speeches about how I can stay true to the church despite my homosexual urges.
I’m dreading my birthday tomorrow. I can see myself being wildly disappointed in myself- just like everyone else.
It doesn’t matter what happens, everything is my fault. It doesn’t even matter how many times I apologize and roll over for another beating. The reason I’m being beaten, is my fault. I literally can do nothing but screw up. Especially to guys. It was one of those weekends where I spent almost the entirety being yelled at. And I strive to be humble- which you will doubt 10 seconds after you tell me I’m too hard on myself. (You should really pick which one I am.) but I can only take so much when suddenly it’s 4 am and I haven’t eaten anything all day and another person has called/or emailed to tell what a soulless harpy I am. With so many telling me so, it must be true. It must be nice to know it’s always Casey’s fault. If you haven’t yet, please come take a whack at this dead horse. I can’t feel anything anymore, trust me.
On a related note, I’ve decided to become gay. I will never please anyone so I may as well live as a lesbian mormon and give big speeches about how I can stay true to the church despite my homosexual urges.
I’m dreading my birthday tomorrow. I can see myself being wildly disappointed in myself- just like everyone else.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
CURSE YOU SDCC!
Ah, I’m so uncomfortable in my skin.
I skip Sunday eating and I caught a cold Monday. I felt it sometime after lunch- my throat throbbing with that all-too familiar pain. It’s weird though because I ate a hearty subway sandwich for lunch that day. But being sick might explain the lack-o-motivation this week.
As always, my joints hurt. The backs of my knees are sore, last night I was so warm, that never happens to me. But I bundled up today anyway. My office is always so cold it hurts to type. it’s because the guy who sits right behind me is always hot and I’m too nice to argue. So when I can’t bare it anymore, I try to sneakily change the temp. Just a tad so there isn’t a cold wind on me.
I still haven’t done much with my work day. I’m distracted and.. sweating now? Great. Called and got an appointment with my doctor for August 17 – the soonest time available. Sigh. Not for the cold, but because I can’t gain any weight. I’m failing. The idea of going shopping to buy more fruits and juices and meds makes me feel even more tired. Y’know what, I think I’m going to lunch early so I can sleep afterwards. My joints don’t hurt as much as when I started this blog post (a few hours ago) but I know it’ll come back later tonight.
Darn. And it’s Jeremy and my anniversary. Well, at least he seems to have forgotten.
I skip Sunday eating and I caught a cold Monday. I felt it sometime after lunch- my throat throbbing with that all-too familiar pain. It’s weird though because I ate a hearty subway sandwich for lunch that day. But being sick might explain the lack-o-motivation this week.
As always, my joints hurt. The backs of my knees are sore, last night I was so warm, that never happens to me. But I bundled up today anyway. My office is always so cold it hurts to type. it’s because the guy who sits right behind me is always hot and I’m too nice to argue. So when I can’t bare it anymore, I try to sneakily change the temp. Just a tad so there isn’t a cold wind on me.
I still haven’t done much with my work day. I’m distracted and.. sweating now? Great. Called and got an appointment with my doctor for August 17 – the soonest time available. Sigh. Not for the cold, but because I can’t gain any weight. I’m failing. The idea of going shopping to buy more fruits and juices and meds makes me feel even more tired. Y’know what, I think I’m going to lunch early so I can sleep afterwards. My joints don’t hurt as much as when I started this blog post (a few hours ago) but I know it’ll come back later tonight.
Darn. And it’s Jeremy and my anniversary. Well, at least he seems to have forgotten.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
forgotten contentment.
i know I need to sleep. I just got home from J Lounge (I can't help it- I like being the only white girl in the room) and my eyes need to rest from wearing contacts before I sleep.
Even though I just spent most of the evening being 'enlightened' about zen (at least that's what I think he was driving at through the drunken slurs) and i had to miss dinner once again- I'm kinda happy. I got a response to my email. I'm happy I got a response AT ALL but it's a big plus that it wasn't rude.
If I think too much about it I'm positive I could draw out some harsh meaning or detect a long history of resentment muffled by his kindness. So I'll just blog a little bit and go to sleep in a kind of forgotten contentment. not really happy, but not in agony either.
I bought new pillows. Now my pains are subsiding maybe I can enjoy them a little more...
Even though I just spent most of the evening being 'enlightened' about zen (at least that's what I think he was driving at through the drunken slurs) and i had to miss dinner once again- I'm kinda happy. I got a response to my email. I'm happy I got a response AT ALL but it's a big plus that it wasn't rude.
If I think too much about it I'm positive I could draw out some harsh meaning or detect a long history of resentment muffled by his kindness. So I'll just blog a little bit and go to sleep in a kind of forgotten contentment. not really happy, but not in agony either.
I bought new pillows. Now my pains are subsiding maybe I can enjoy them a little more...
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Value-Relativism
Ug. I need to remember- never text, call, facebook, skype, or email when on medications.
My back pain was so intense yesterday I took maybe twice the amount I should have for pain killers. But better to snuff that right away than suffer all day and night.
So I may have done something wrong. I’m too dramatic that way. (But this *is* the blog of womanly insanity.) Not that I didn’t put a lot of thought into it first. In fact, I struggled with myself for hours writing and re-writing. Would it be bad if I spoke up after all this time? Is there even anything left to ruin? Knowing what I do, I assume I’m just a stain on certain people’s memory. A blip on the radar at best, or just a foolish mistake. Thinking seriously about this person, I can probably more than assume- one of the last letters I got stated that if they had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. And if that’s where I LEFT his feelings, after all these months, I can’t imagine his attitude towards me has improved much.
Anyway, in the end I erased the long letter and left just one sentence that I hope had more meaning in it than a whole book of feelings could convey. If there was anything left to salvage regarding him, I probably just crushed it indefinitely. Never communicate under drugs.
But I am I wrong to be hurt by the last letter before the end? I thought we were such good friends- why would it matter if I’m a Mormon? Just because we can’t be together means that it’s not worth seeing me at all? And all our experiences together were a waste of time? I admit that this is a fear of mine. Because I don’t drink, party, attend regular church services, and observe other religious practices with sincerity that I’d never makes friends. I worry people that I love would reject me, forget me, fear me, resent me, ignore me, being I’m not normal or not enough. Throw me back because I’m a strong member of a faith? Mentally, I recognize it as cruel and people who would really do that I don’t want to be friends with anyway- right? But that doesn’t stop it from stinging and I worry.
In this case, I told him three times that we could only be friends. And three times, he showed it wasn’t enough for him. And I couldn’t keep seeing him if that was the choice he made. So I told him we couldn’t see each other again- if he couldn’t handle being friends. On our last night together I thought he understood that. But still, I should have known that such an extraordinarily passionate person would persist. I answered some of his emails and messages, but it was still breaching my *explicit* request for space. Then in one message he told me all that was wrong with my religion and what he couldn’t accept about it. He told me in detail how wrong headed I, and everyone I love in my religion is flawed or fooled. That wouldn’t have even bothered me so much if it hadn’t ended with a thoughtless statement that it would have been better to never have met me at all.
That was it for me. My principles had been insulted, my wishes ignored, and it was asking for too much to see me again so soon.
I hope someday that someone would see my value. I was born with a conviction and a big mouth. It’s true, I’m dramatic. And Noisy. And I can be stubborn and sensitive and whiney. But I’m also small and weak and terminally naive. So how is it I have the power to hurt others? I don’t mean to. Sigh. How is it that I was hurt and yet I feel guilty?
My back pain was so intense yesterday I took maybe twice the amount I should have for pain killers. But better to snuff that right away than suffer all day and night.
So I may have done something wrong. I’m too dramatic that way. (But this *is* the blog of womanly insanity.) Not that I didn’t put a lot of thought into it first. In fact, I struggled with myself for hours writing and re-writing. Would it be bad if I spoke up after all this time? Is there even anything left to ruin? Knowing what I do, I assume I’m just a stain on certain people’s memory. A blip on the radar at best, or just a foolish mistake. Thinking seriously about this person, I can probably more than assume- one of the last letters I got stated that if they had known I was a Mormon, he never would have met me. And if that’s where I LEFT his feelings, after all these months, I can’t imagine his attitude towards me has improved much.
Anyway, in the end I erased the long letter and left just one sentence that I hope had more meaning in it than a whole book of feelings could convey. If there was anything left to salvage regarding him, I probably just crushed it indefinitely. Never communicate under drugs.
But I am I wrong to be hurt by the last letter before the end? I thought we were such good friends- why would it matter if I’m a Mormon? Just because we can’t be together means that it’s not worth seeing me at all? And all our experiences together were a waste of time? I admit that this is a fear of mine. Because I don’t drink, party, attend regular church services, and observe other religious practices with sincerity that I’d never makes friends. I worry people that I love would reject me, forget me, fear me, resent me, ignore me, being I’m not normal or not enough. Throw me back because I’m a strong member of a faith? Mentally, I recognize it as cruel and people who would really do that I don’t want to be friends with anyway- right? But that doesn’t stop it from stinging and I worry.
In this case, I told him three times that we could only be friends. And three times, he showed it wasn’t enough for him. And I couldn’t keep seeing him if that was the choice he made. So I told him we couldn’t see each other again- if he couldn’t handle being friends. On our last night together I thought he understood that. But still, I should have known that such an extraordinarily passionate person would persist. I answered some of his emails and messages, but it was still breaching my *explicit* request for space. Then in one message he told me all that was wrong with my religion and what he couldn’t accept about it. He told me in detail how wrong headed I, and everyone I love in my religion is flawed or fooled. That wouldn’t have even bothered me so much if it hadn’t ended with a thoughtless statement that it would have been better to never have met me at all.
That was it for me. My principles had been insulted, my wishes ignored, and it was asking for too much to see me again so soon.
I hope someday that someone would see my value. I was born with a conviction and a big mouth. It’s true, I’m dramatic. And Noisy. And I can be stubborn and sensitive and whiney. But I’m also small and weak and terminally naive. So how is it I have the power to hurt others? I don’t mean to. Sigh. How is it that I was hurt and yet I feel guilty?
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
On Pain Killers
The more I think about how difficult relationships are and what a warped person I must be, the more I think I’ll die alone.
Probably from malnourishment. I am heavily medicated right now.
Probably from malnourishment. I am heavily medicated right now.
Malnurishment
I want to see if I can explain this pain.
I had it once before during the time I lived at home after college. I had taken a temp job and after a few weeks of working at a desk, I got this pain.
It’s just between my shoulder blade and spine- it’s not the spine itself, it’s like the muscle. But not the muscle itself because massaging doesn’t help. I tried my Dad’s massage chair at that time and all it did was pummel me so badly I was sore everywhere else in addition. I tried hot baths. I tried sleeping a million different ways. The only thing that worked was very heavy medication for pain relief and I have to take it often.
I had it again when I moved to LA and started an office job. The solution then was, again, medication and then I bought a pillow to drive with. I t helped and I’ve been driving with it ever since. But that was a few years ago and I’ve been in tons of office jobs since. But it’s back again.
This dull obnoxious pain. It makes me dizzy and distracted.
I weighed myself last night- I’m still 100 pounds. And this morning it couldn’t make it’s mind as to wither I was 100 or 99 pounds. I can’t keep the weight on. And then this morning I read that a possible cause for this back pain might be in action.
I just can’t win, can I?
I had it once before during the time I lived at home after college. I had taken a temp job and after a few weeks of working at a desk, I got this pain.
It’s just between my shoulder blade and spine- it’s not the spine itself, it’s like the muscle. But not the muscle itself because massaging doesn’t help. I tried my Dad’s massage chair at that time and all it did was pummel me so badly I was sore everywhere else in addition. I tried hot baths. I tried sleeping a million different ways. The only thing that worked was very heavy medication for pain relief and I have to take it often.
I had it again when I moved to LA and started an office job. The solution then was, again, medication and then I bought a pillow to drive with. I t helped and I’ve been driving with it ever since. But that was a few years ago and I’ve been in tons of office jobs since. But it’s back again.
This dull obnoxious pain. It makes me dizzy and distracted.
I weighed myself last night- I’m still 100 pounds. And this morning it couldn’t make it’s mind as to wither I was 100 or 99 pounds. I can’t keep the weight on. And then this morning I read that a possible cause for this back pain might be in action.
I just can’t win, can I?
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Weathertop wound bleeding
Men, I swear, are poison to me.
Monday, my darling Usagi had her heart broken in much the same way I did. She crawled into bed with me at the hotel. While she talked, I don't think she noticed the tears running down my face. I couldn't help it. From the beginning a few months ago when I heard her talk about this guy I knew that this would happen- that the same thing that happened to me. And I didn't know how to stop it. or if I even should. But I did know very well, that horrible gut wrenching pain- to see someone you love, who seemed to love you back, leave.
To end our pow-wow, I couldn't help it, I cried. Out loud. and so did she. We sobbed together and held onto each other until we laughed at the absurdity of it. And what would John think if he came in and saw these pathetic girls in this miserable weepy mess?
Since then I can't get him out of my mind. I thought I had gotten over this. I was okay with seeing pictures of him . I was even taking steps to re-friend him on some mediums. But I can't now. I'm back to holding my breath when I pass his house on the way home from work. Back to feeling like I got punched in the gut whenever I see his picture or read his name. I'm back to tears at night before I go to sleep wishing wishing wishing that I was as lucky as he- to find someone to fill this horrible hole in my heart.
To me, he is my wound at weathertop. It never quite heals so a little pressure and I'm bleeding again. I know my best chance to get over it is to have someone else in my life. During that short time a month ago that I *had* a boyfriend, I felt so much better. In fact, ever since the loss in October, I've had someone to kinda distract me or take care of me but it's all been temporary relief. Right now I don't have anyone to distract me. And I can't really tell my girl friends about this. How do you justify holding onto pointless misery? I'm a smart girl and I know remembering him is silly, so why am I still crying?
I know too, that it'll always come back to me one way or another. And tonight I had to WORST craving to talk to him. to confirm that his feelings for me was as real as I thought. To know if he misses me. I talked to him briefly but found out nothing and received no comfort. I'm not sure if being treated casually by him makes me feel better or not to be honest. I guess that makes him poison. I know I need to expel him from me to heal but when I drink I hope feverishly that my cure is located at the bottom of the bottle- so I want to drink deeply to reach my salvation. But I think maybe that delicious antidote for my wounded heart has dried up. and all that's left is the poison. Does that make sense?
I'm thirsty. I want his hand back in mine again.
It's weird but I think the same thing might be true of Jeremy. I'm not in love with him or anything but there is this HORRIBLE fact, that his opinion matters to me. Far more than it should considering how poorly he distributes it; not often and if at all- not clearly. I have to dig out any diamond compliment that might appear and then I wonder if I made it up. Nevertheless, I have fallen victim to this poison again- Letting a part of my happiness depend on people who cannot or will not make me feel better. It's my job to determine my own happiness, I know. But knowing what's best and being able to do it are two different things. And sometimes I can do it. but I'm weak right now. I'm tired from the con, frustrated with my job, disappointed with the cafe, and now I'm bleeding in more ways than one (as if one way wasn't enough). It's not an excuse I know.
But if I could wish for one thing tomorrow it would be to hear and know again (without it being an idle attempt to get into my pants) that someone important to me would still like me even if I cut my hair short and dyed it brown. Even though I have a bridge on my nose and I'm too skinny. Even though I can be obnoxiously dramatic and stubbornly opinionated. Even though I don't have a great rack and don't like to go hiking. Even though I'm allergic to cats and not spontaneous.
I'm a fool with wishing of course. But we all have to have dreams, right? Some just have to take a little longer than others to come true.
Monday, my darling Usagi had her heart broken in much the same way I did. She crawled into bed with me at the hotel. While she talked, I don't think she noticed the tears running down my face. I couldn't help it. From the beginning a few months ago when I heard her talk about this guy I knew that this would happen- that the same thing that happened to me. And I didn't know how to stop it. or if I even should. But I did know very well, that horrible gut wrenching pain- to see someone you love, who seemed to love you back, leave.
To end our pow-wow, I couldn't help it, I cried. Out loud. and so did she. We sobbed together and held onto each other until we laughed at the absurdity of it. And what would John think if he came in and saw these pathetic girls in this miserable weepy mess?
Since then I can't get him out of my mind. I thought I had gotten over this. I was okay with seeing pictures of him . I was even taking steps to re-friend him on some mediums. But I can't now. I'm back to holding my breath when I pass his house on the way home from work. Back to feeling like I got punched in the gut whenever I see his picture or read his name. I'm back to tears at night before I go to sleep wishing wishing wishing that I was as lucky as he- to find someone to fill this horrible hole in my heart.
To me, he is my wound at weathertop. It never quite heals so a little pressure and I'm bleeding again. I know my best chance to get over it is to have someone else in my life. During that short time a month ago that I *had* a boyfriend, I felt so much better. In fact, ever since the loss in October, I've had someone to kinda distract me or take care of me but it's all been temporary relief. Right now I don't have anyone to distract me. And I can't really tell my girl friends about this. How do you justify holding onto pointless misery? I'm a smart girl and I know remembering him is silly, so why am I still crying?
I know too, that it'll always come back to me one way or another. And tonight I had to WORST craving to talk to him. to confirm that his feelings for me was as real as I thought. To know if he misses me. I talked to him briefly but found out nothing and received no comfort. I'm not sure if being treated casually by him makes me feel better or not to be honest. I guess that makes him poison. I know I need to expel him from me to heal but when I drink I hope feverishly that my cure is located at the bottom of the bottle- so I want to drink deeply to reach my salvation. But I think maybe that delicious antidote for my wounded heart has dried up. and all that's left is the poison. Does that make sense?
I'm thirsty. I want his hand back in mine again.
It's weird but I think the same thing might be true of Jeremy. I'm not in love with him or anything but there is this HORRIBLE fact, that his opinion matters to me. Far more than it should considering how poorly he distributes it; not often and if at all- not clearly. I have to dig out any diamond compliment that might appear and then I wonder if I made it up. Nevertheless, I have fallen victim to this poison again- Letting a part of my happiness depend on people who cannot or will not make me feel better. It's my job to determine my own happiness, I know. But knowing what's best and being able to do it are two different things. And sometimes I can do it. but I'm weak right now. I'm tired from the con, frustrated with my job, disappointed with the cafe, and now I'm bleeding in more ways than one (as if one way wasn't enough). It's not an excuse I know.
But if I could wish for one thing tomorrow it would be to hear and know again (without it being an idle attempt to get into my pants) that someone important to me would still like me even if I cut my hair short and dyed it brown. Even though I have a bridge on my nose and I'm too skinny. Even though I can be obnoxiously dramatic and stubbornly opinionated. Even though I don't have a great rack and don't like to go hiking. Even though I'm allergic to cats and not spontaneous.
I'm a fool with wishing of course. But we all have to have dreams, right? Some just have to take a little longer than others to come true.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Spending Time
Not to be vain, but I am a woman blessed with many talents.
I also need to say, it’s kinda obnoxious when someone say what talents I SHOULD be working on.
Let me lay out a list of such things I am relatively good at that people say I really need to do more often:
Draw and color art
Create for Maid Hime
Write fiction
Sew Maid/Host dolls
Voice act
Sing
Video Edit
Ballroom Dance
Update dating Blog
Work on my comic strip
Model
Cosplay
Act in theater
Play Frisbee
Reading
Make phone calls at work
Plus whatever work I’m doing for the maid café
Can you see that I don’t have time for all these things all the time? Sometimes I have to put them to the side for a few weeks, months, even years while I move forward and try to get my real life moving forward. Because shockingly, even though I have played with the idea of making many of these things my career, they are not. And in likelihood, they never will be.
So while I have worked hard to become good at many of these things- they’re a side show. A hobby. This sounds horrible but I like people to please stop lecturing me about how I am bring a shame to the craft by not participating in everything I’m good at. I need a life too. And also, please don’t feign disgust anymore when you see I can do something when it’s not always natural, I labored to nurture some of these abilities and not all of them flow from me like breath. Ever thing maybe it takes a real effort?
Y’know what, here is a list of thing people are constantly lecturing me on thing I should be learning/ doing:
Work out
Cook/Eat
Wearing more makeup
Being more organized
Play sports
Go to concerts
Hanging out/ FHE
Keep a journal
Study for the GRE
I’m bored with this list now. Time to take meds.
I also need to say, it’s kinda obnoxious when someone say what talents I SHOULD be working on.
Let me lay out a list of such things I am relatively good at that people say I really need to do more often:
Draw and color art
Create for Maid Hime
Write fiction
Sew Maid/Host dolls
Voice act
Sing
Video Edit
Ballroom Dance
Update dating Blog
Work on my comic strip
Model
Cosplay
Act in theater
Play Frisbee
Reading
Make phone calls at work
Plus whatever work I’m doing for the maid café
Can you see that I don’t have time for all these things all the time? Sometimes I have to put them to the side for a few weeks, months, even years while I move forward and try to get my real life moving forward. Because shockingly, even though I have played with the idea of making many of these things my career, they are not. And in likelihood, they never will be.
So while I have worked hard to become good at many of these things- they’re a side show. A hobby. This sounds horrible but I like people to please stop lecturing me about how I am bring a shame to the craft by not participating in everything I’m good at. I need a life too. And also, please don’t feign disgust anymore when you see I can do something when it’s not always natural, I labored to nurture some of these abilities and not all of them flow from me like breath. Ever thing maybe it takes a real effort?
Y’know what, here is a list of thing people are constantly lecturing me on thing I should be learning/ doing:
Work out
Cook/Eat
Wearing more makeup
Being more organized
Play sports
Go to concerts
Hanging out/ FHE
Keep a journal
Study for the GRE
I’m bored with this list now. Time to take meds.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Frizbee
Musings today
I just had one too many go through my head and realized I had to start writing them down.
The one that just broke the camels back- it’s funny, I don’t talk about my frizbee skills very often, and I rarely join in when a game starts. But I always get a little thrill of excitement when one lands near me and they ask me to toss it back.
I bet if I paid attention I could see a look on their face that I probably get when an inexperienced girl picks up a frizbee and tries to throw it like a horizontal ball shot from a lop sided slingshot. She’ll lug the thing forward and it’ll fly maybe 10 feet and thunk to the ground in an awkward spiral that if she’s lucky will roll forward. I think that’s why girls don’t normally play Frisbee- they’re embarrassed to learn. Seems silly to me, when it requires so little energy from the body to play well. You just need to learn how.
When I was in elementary school (3rd 5th or 6th grade I can’t remember) we had a P.E. class where the instructor taught us how to throw. And I loved it. And I practiced.
When my parents were divorced and my father was still unmarried I remember playing a game in the park to relieve the enormous stress of being in the life we were living. It was called “boiling in oil”. Basically, my Dad would throw the disk to my older brother (who is about 4 years older than me and my brother who is 1.5 years younger than me) and if he dropped it, then he had 5 seconds to pick it back up before my father swooped upon us all in a tickle mess exclaiming “BOILING IN OIL!” And wither we were the victim of the attack or not didn’t matter, we were all laughing like madmen the entire time. It was my favorite game and literally one of my favorite memories (if one of the few) from that terrible time. I will always harbor a craving for Frisbee just because of that memory.
So I relish the times I get to pick up a disk; the sloping edges frayed from striking too much cement, grass stains coloring long streaks in haphazard patterns, and it’s dense weight under my slim fingers. I get a little delight when I release it toward my target- straight and even with a authority I didn’t know I had in my skinny arms. I can feel the power fly from me and I get a joy from watching it glide into the arms of a completely shocked long-time player.
At this point I shrug at their compliments and go back to what I was doing. Even though I long to join the game. Technically, I don’t have the strength to throw it as far as I’d like, to run as far as I need to, or catch effectively every time. So I can’t play with people who are serious. Normally I defer to casually teaching hotter girls than me to straighten their wrist until she feels too stupid in front of her/my friends and quits.
But it makes me laugh when a guy can’t get over what he saw. “Y’know, you’re really good. Why don’t you play with us?” “I saw you throw that thing, seriously come join our team next week.” “How come you don’t play with on Thursdays?” “We could use another person, I know you have the skills, Casey.” I just laugh and politely refuse over and over.
If the McDonald clan lacks any physical abilities (and we do), we make up for it in other ways. My older brother discovered his ability to play basketball in highschool (until he sprained his ankle) and then went on to build thin muscles in college playing Ultimate Frisbee. He nor I play anymore of course because life is full of other stuff we enjoy that take up time.
But if I had to come up with a closing thought here, I guess it would be the idea that I want to take my bookworm kids to the park and play ‘Boiling in Oil’ again to refresh us. To exhaust our bodies with running and laughter. To keep playing even when it cut your open palm. To remind them and me that we live in the world where grass grows.
I just had one too many go through my head and realized I had to start writing them down.
The one that just broke the camels back- it’s funny, I don’t talk about my frizbee skills very often, and I rarely join in when a game starts. But I always get a little thrill of excitement when one lands near me and they ask me to toss it back.
I bet if I paid attention I could see a look on their face that I probably get when an inexperienced girl picks up a frizbee and tries to throw it like a horizontal ball shot from a lop sided slingshot. She’ll lug the thing forward and it’ll fly maybe 10 feet and thunk to the ground in an awkward spiral that if she’s lucky will roll forward. I think that’s why girls don’t normally play Frisbee- they’re embarrassed to learn. Seems silly to me, when it requires so little energy from the body to play well. You just need to learn how.
When I was in elementary school (3rd 5th or 6th grade I can’t remember) we had a P.E. class where the instructor taught us how to throw. And I loved it. And I practiced.
When my parents were divorced and my father was still unmarried I remember playing a game in the park to relieve the enormous stress of being in the life we were living. It was called “boiling in oil”. Basically, my Dad would throw the disk to my older brother (who is about 4 years older than me and my brother who is 1.5 years younger than me) and if he dropped it, then he had 5 seconds to pick it back up before my father swooped upon us all in a tickle mess exclaiming “BOILING IN OIL!” And wither we were the victim of the attack or not didn’t matter, we were all laughing like madmen the entire time. It was my favorite game and literally one of my favorite memories (if one of the few) from that terrible time. I will always harbor a craving for Frisbee just because of that memory.
So I relish the times I get to pick up a disk; the sloping edges frayed from striking too much cement, grass stains coloring long streaks in haphazard patterns, and it’s dense weight under my slim fingers. I get a little delight when I release it toward my target- straight and even with a authority I didn’t know I had in my skinny arms. I can feel the power fly from me and I get a joy from watching it glide into the arms of a completely shocked long-time player.
At this point I shrug at their compliments and go back to what I was doing. Even though I long to join the game. Technically, I don’t have the strength to throw it as far as I’d like, to run as far as I need to, or catch effectively every time. So I can’t play with people who are serious. Normally I defer to casually teaching hotter girls than me to straighten their wrist until she feels too stupid in front of her/my friends and quits.
But it makes me laugh when a guy can’t get over what he saw. “Y’know, you’re really good. Why don’t you play with us?” “I saw you throw that thing, seriously come join our team next week.” “How come you don’t play with on Thursdays?” “We could use another person, I know you have the skills, Casey.” I just laugh and politely refuse over and over.
If the McDonald clan lacks any physical abilities (and we do), we make up for it in other ways. My older brother discovered his ability to play basketball in highschool (until he sprained his ankle) and then went on to build thin muscles in college playing Ultimate Frisbee. He nor I play anymore of course because life is full of other stuff we enjoy that take up time.
But if I had to come up with a closing thought here, I guess it would be the idea that I want to take my bookworm kids to the park and play ‘Boiling in Oil’ again to refresh us. To exhaust our bodies with running and laughter. To keep playing even when it cut your open palm. To remind them and me that we live in the world where grass grows.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sweet nothings
It seems as though I have had to research this too many times and gather minimal results. I figure I should probably start a collection somewhere where I can retrieve them.
List of sweet nothings:
私はあなたを味見したい
My favorite things are Chinese food, hat stores, and your hand in mine.
- You’re so much better than any guy I have ever met.
- I’m lost, can you keep me?
- I adore you.
- I love smelling the scent of you that lingers on my clothes after we part. (you mean, “go away so I can enjoy it?”)
- I get goosebumps every time you wrap your arms around me.
- When I close my eyes at night, you are all I see.
- I love the way I feel when I am with you.
- Your thoughtfulness touches me.
List of sweet nothings:
私はあなたを味見したい
My favorite things are Chinese food, hat stores, and your hand in mine.
- You’re so much better than any guy I have ever met.
- I’m lost, can you keep me?
- I adore you.
- I love smelling the scent of you that lingers on my clothes after we part. (you mean, “go away so I can enjoy it?”)
- I get goosebumps every time you wrap your arms around me.
- When I close my eyes at night, you are all I see.
- I love the way I feel when I am with you.
- Your thoughtfulness touches me.
Friday, June 10, 2011
I'm there for you
I know it's something I picked up from my father, but have I even mentioned how much I hate the term, "There for you"? It means nothing. It’s a bad pet peeve of mine to have a problem with people who are nice for themselves rather than being nice for others.
Being available to give help to a friend isn’t such a terrible thing and I should never get upset by the offer. It’s just this horrible tweak I have. I should probably get it fixed for my own sake. At least for now I’m learning to keep my mouth shut. I can dislike anything I want as long as I don’t say so or act or it or punish someone for feeling differently.
But I think I can safely say here- I hate that phrase used selfishly.
My friend is having an emotional trauma. Not from anything that happened really or anything that’s fixable. It’s just one of those times in life where to do want to do anything or see anyone. There is no cure for your uncomfortably and everyone wants to help- but they can’t. And when you’re in that state, you don’t want anyone to try because it just makes it worse to remind yourself that they can’t. It’s just a cycle of depression that happens to some people when they grow up- around 21 I find. This friend of mine confided in me and I know they’ll be okay. But our mutual friend wants to ‘help’. And won’t drop it.
I tried to protect my friend by telling others just give it some time. but no. “Kind” people cannot relax until they feel they have acted the part of the hero. They squirm in themselves until they can proudly declare, “I’m there for you!” and their duty is done. They’re there. Well great. We know you’re there. The problem is you won’t go away. And some people have it in their minds that they have the ultimate solution. Go on a walk, take a bath, watch porn, eat more sweet things, ect. What I really hate is when people won’t quit until they feel like they’ve solved it for you. They MUST be the hero.
Have you ever felt that way? Just leave me alone. That’s what I want. That’s what I need. And I need a friend who understands that not everything can be solved the same way for every person. I want someone to say that even though it’s not okay now- it will be in the future- freaking out about making sure everything is hunky dory… and worse, when we have to make things right RIGHT NOW it’s only YOUR world that’s beautiful again. Not mine.
Have you ever had to grin and thank someone when you’re at your worst so that THEY feel good again? Seriously, you feel like crap and yet the people who claim to “be there for you” are asking for you to serve them a little more.
So they finally leave you alone, but don’t you think it’s a lot more helpful to do what your friends ask and wait patiently outside the door?
I tried to explain this. But in the end, of course, my friend had to put on a BIG FAKE GRIN so the hero would feel like he did his job. And the hero says to me, “I’m glad I can be there for them.” Makes me want to smack him. Smack him for making someone feel more alone by satisfying his own need to feel important and involved.
This is what makes me a difficult woman. I am difficult- I must be. I over think everything. If I was stupid maybe I wouldn’t notice the inherent self-centered motives. Maybe If I was stupid, I’d be happier. Sometimes it makes me want to give myself brain damage. And screw whatever benefits my deep heart and creative mind might have given me. Is it worth all this confusion? I have to marry someone smarter than me so they’ll know that I’m not just crazy and unreasonable. Maybe someone will be able to look at me intelligently and see who I am underneath the complications. And they won’t think I’m vain or selfish.
Or get bored.
Being available to give help to a friend isn’t such a terrible thing and I should never get upset by the offer. It’s just this horrible tweak I have. I should probably get it fixed for my own sake. At least for now I’m learning to keep my mouth shut. I can dislike anything I want as long as I don’t say so or act or it or punish someone for feeling differently.
But I think I can safely say here- I hate that phrase used selfishly.
My friend is having an emotional trauma. Not from anything that happened really or anything that’s fixable. It’s just one of those times in life where to do want to do anything or see anyone. There is no cure for your uncomfortably and everyone wants to help- but they can’t. And when you’re in that state, you don’t want anyone to try because it just makes it worse to remind yourself that they can’t. It’s just a cycle of depression that happens to some people when they grow up- around 21 I find. This friend of mine confided in me and I know they’ll be okay. But our mutual friend wants to ‘help’. And won’t drop it.
I tried to protect my friend by telling others just give it some time. but no. “Kind” people cannot relax until they feel they have acted the part of the hero. They squirm in themselves until they can proudly declare, “I’m there for you!” and their duty is done. They’re there. Well great. We know you’re there. The problem is you won’t go away. And some people have it in their minds that they have the ultimate solution. Go on a walk, take a bath, watch porn, eat more sweet things, ect. What I really hate is when people won’t quit until they feel like they’ve solved it for you. They MUST be the hero.
Have you ever felt that way? Just leave me alone. That’s what I want. That’s what I need. And I need a friend who understands that not everything can be solved the same way for every person. I want someone to say that even though it’s not okay now- it will be in the future- freaking out about making sure everything is hunky dory… and worse, when we have to make things right RIGHT NOW it’s only YOUR world that’s beautiful again. Not mine.
Have you ever had to grin and thank someone when you’re at your worst so that THEY feel good again? Seriously, you feel like crap and yet the people who claim to “be there for you” are asking for you to serve them a little more.
So they finally leave you alone, but don’t you think it’s a lot more helpful to do what your friends ask and wait patiently outside the door?
I tried to explain this. But in the end, of course, my friend had to put on a BIG FAKE GRIN so the hero would feel like he did his job. And the hero says to me, “I’m glad I can be there for them.” Makes me want to smack him. Smack him for making someone feel more alone by satisfying his own need to feel important and involved.
This is what makes me a difficult woman. I am difficult- I must be. I over think everything. If I was stupid maybe I wouldn’t notice the inherent self-centered motives. Maybe If I was stupid, I’d be happier. Sometimes it makes me want to give myself brain damage. And screw whatever benefits my deep heart and creative mind might have given me. Is it worth all this confusion? I have to marry someone smarter than me so they’ll know that I’m not just crazy and unreasonable. Maybe someone will be able to look at me intelligently and see who I am underneath the complications. And they won’t think I’m vain or selfish.
Or get bored.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Gaunt is my new word
“Oh what the hell,” she says, “I just can’t win for losing.” And she lays back down.
Interesting phone conversations I overheard in the bathroom at work this morning.
One woman who was in there when I arrived was saying, “Do I remember the date of the incident? I don’t think so. But I have been taking anger management classes and today is my last day. Yes, I’ll hold.”
When she left, another woman came in on her cell phone, “You are the biological father. A part of your body helped make this kid and I need your help. You need to support this child.”
Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
I need a shower and some mochi icecream balls. Y’know what use to make me instantly happy? Beef and Broccoli. I have no idea why, it works better than chocolate. But my dissatisfaction with life is deeper these days than what can be solved with taking me out to eat. This has been such a rough year. And I looked at myself in the mirror this morning anf I realized even my face is skinnier. It’s not attractive. My skin looks grey. No wonder Masato left me after he got back. O.o
Lol, I only partically take that back. I know he has the ability to be with a girl for a long period of time. and the issues between us don’t always seem to be between HIM and Me. more often than not it’s him fighting himself, and me myself. And sometimes it’s just fighting cultures. He doesn’t like that I tell him my opinion. He says that a man should be head of the house and his previous girlfriends might know he’s wrong- but they don’t point it out.
I’m wasting too much time thinking about this.
And now AX café… more later.
Interesting phone conversations I overheard in the bathroom at work this morning.
One woman who was in there when I arrived was saying, “Do I remember the date of the incident? I don’t think so. But I have been taking anger management classes and today is my last day. Yes, I’ll hold.”
When she left, another woman came in on her cell phone, “You are the biological father. A part of your body helped make this kid and I need your help. You need to support this child.”
Graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
I need a shower and some mochi icecream balls. Y’know what use to make me instantly happy? Beef and Broccoli. I have no idea why, it works better than chocolate. But my dissatisfaction with life is deeper these days than what can be solved with taking me out to eat. This has been such a rough year. And I looked at myself in the mirror this morning anf I realized even my face is skinnier. It’s not attractive. My skin looks grey. No wonder Masato left me after he got back. O.o
Lol, I only partically take that back. I know he has the ability to be with a girl for a long period of time. and the issues between us don’t always seem to be between HIM and Me. more often than not it’s him fighting himself, and me myself. And sometimes it’s just fighting cultures. He doesn’t like that I tell him my opinion. He says that a man should be head of the house and his previous girlfriends might know he’s wrong- but they don’t point it out.
I’m wasting too much time thinking about this.
And now AX café… more later.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Bucket list
You are not allowed to say this isn't a bucket list.
Maybe I just don't have those kind of goals like you.
- I want to see a Radio show performed live. Like "From the Top" Or "prarie Home COmpanion".
- I want to be brave enough to dye my hair brown.
- I want to dress in Kuro Loli.
- I want to speak as an expert in front of thousands on a stage.
- I want to write a book.
- I want to be a bridesmaid.
- I want to see one of my characters animated- even a little bit.
- I want to go to Japan and maybe Cosplay on the streets of Harajuku or Akihabara
- I want to cosplay the perfect sailor V
- I want to stay one night in a mansion
- I want a whole bottle of martinis to myself
- I want to go to a day spa (I'm too scared)
- I want to run my own business when I don't need to get up for a 9-5 (not that I mind it) I just want that level of discipline
-
Maybe I just don't have those kind of goals like you.
- I want to see a Radio show performed live. Like "From the Top" Or "prarie Home COmpanion".
- I want to be brave enough to dye my hair brown.
- I want to dress in Kuro Loli.
- I want to speak as an expert in front of thousands on a stage.
- I want to write a book.
- I want to be a bridesmaid.
- I want to see one of my characters animated- even a little bit.
- I want to go to Japan and maybe Cosplay on the streets of Harajuku or Akihabara
- I want to cosplay the perfect sailor V
- I want to stay one night in a mansion
- I want a whole bottle of martinis to myself
- I want to go to a day spa (I'm too scared)
- I want to run my own business when I don't need to get up for a 9-5 (not that I mind it) I just want that level of discipline
-
Thursday, April 7, 2011
sick from the shoulders up
I’m either going crazy, or my time of death is near. Or it would be if fate were smidgen kinder than it has been. So far fate has kept me alive, but not much more than that. I’ve been thinking a lot about death these days. I just see no future for myself. And it could be for a number of reasons- perhaps this is a side effect from the drugs. My little brother has reported strong depression after his adderall wears off. It could be over work. The last couple weeks I’ve been non-stop between animaid and work and I have not kept up my promise to start leaving work at 5 instead of 7. Of course, that too could be a contributor of the internal agony- I dislike myself for still being here with Howard my boss. I feel like a sell-out and a failure. first because I couldn’t find work in the time allotted to me during that month of time I was on ‘two weeks notice’. The one perfect job for me- I don’t know. It’s gone. I thought I had it. I could smell it and yet they over looked me. Was that my fault? Did I not do something I should have? I thought I did everything right and somehow I failed. That great miracle I thought would be my future and my happiness, my employment dream come true at last… gone. And I don’t have anyone to blame but me. So I don’t like myself. I failed again and I don’t know now where I shold go or what dreams I have. I agreed to stay here for the *money*. How pathetic. I never cared about money really before. I thought if I worked hard and did my due diligence that I would be rewarded. But I’m still here. And the only way I earn this “bonus” is by again enslaving myself to this stupid phone working for a commission. I hate commissions. I don’t want to strap myself to the grace of others and the luck of the draw. Luck and fate are not my friends and I obviously don’t have the skills to get what I want.
I see a future of insufferable mediocrity as clear as day. A rental home with a man I settled for. Working as a career assistant struggling from paycheck to paycheck always being frugal and worried and hungry. I can’t decorate so my house will be full of cheap make-shift decorations I invented. My children will be like me- disappointed with life even though I see that strong McDonald fire in them. Luck won’t favor them either. And I won’t have anything to give them because I was a failure too. And I won’t be able to give them snacks when they come home from school or spend way too much money on fabric to sew them what they want to be for Halloween. And everyday my husband and I will worry about retirement and to top it off, I’ll never go to Japan. It’ll never be convenient enough. I’ll never have the time. and in time, I won’t think about it anymore and that dream will die too. It’ll just be a part of reality like everything else- just another thing out of my reach.
So maybe you can grasp now why death seems so appealing right now. Don’t worry- I’m not shopping for rope or scopeing out where I can get guns or pills or eyeing knives. Being LDS, I know that even if I did die, life would still ‘go on’ for me and I’d have to still face my mistakes in life.
Of course this might ALL stem from being sick. My joints ache, my glands are swollen and bruised. My throat feels like it’s split vertically from the inside so it hurts to swallow. My head aches and my fingers are stiff. The new guys in my office are always so close to me and my desk and they are loud and try to talk to me. They brought in a fan today and that constant drone makes it hard to think. And it makes it cold. On top of which, one of the idiots in my office has expressed an interest in me when everyone else is gone. This is not the time to be trying to get on my good side guy. I’m feeling worn and sick and confussed. You’re flirting with me will only make me resent you.
That is one this I should write about. When girls feel sick- no matter how much she might like you, it’s not a good time to make a move. It might be a good time to step in and take care of her- one don’t step one toe over the line of asking for anything in return. That might mean unintentionally asking her to look cute or clean her house when you want to come to take care of her. Or maybe that’s just me. When I feel sick I don’t appreciate a kindness that requires me to get out of bed and be a good hostess. I just want to be sick and crumple up on the couch in my pjs with my hair nasty and sweaty. Having the stress of someone I want to impress in the room is NOT helpful.
Chris came over to help me once when I was so sick it was really more of an episode. When I tried to pass out so the pain would subside in unconsciousness, he knelt beside the couch and watched me try to sleep. As if I could do it with someone studying me in my total misery. If I had had any energy at that moment, I might have struck out and slugged him in the face. Instead I asked him to go away. He just retreated to the other couch and waited until I woke up.
A few weeks ago steve Anderson came over when I had a brief cold after my failed Charity to Japan event that got rained out. He brought me homemade bread. Luckily, I was already dressed in pjs and moderately presentable so I allowed him inside with the promise that once he delivered it, he’d go away and let me sleep. Even though I don’t like wheat bread or honey, I didn’t say anything and let him be kind. He stayed and talked to me while I ate. Not exactly our agreement but whatever. It was okay. But I think my feeling still stands. If you’re going to take care of someone, think about their needs, don’t only serve what you want to give. It’s nice, but… yeah.
Ow. Taking Tylonol. Why does everything have to hurt all at once?
I see a future of insufferable mediocrity as clear as day. A rental home with a man I settled for. Working as a career assistant struggling from paycheck to paycheck always being frugal and worried and hungry. I can’t decorate so my house will be full of cheap make-shift decorations I invented. My children will be like me- disappointed with life even though I see that strong McDonald fire in them. Luck won’t favor them either. And I won’t have anything to give them because I was a failure too. And I won’t be able to give them snacks when they come home from school or spend way too much money on fabric to sew them what they want to be for Halloween. And everyday my husband and I will worry about retirement and to top it off, I’ll never go to Japan. It’ll never be convenient enough. I’ll never have the time. and in time, I won’t think about it anymore and that dream will die too. It’ll just be a part of reality like everything else- just another thing out of my reach.
So maybe you can grasp now why death seems so appealing right now. Don’t worry- I’m not shopping for rope or scopeing out where I can get guns or pills or eyeing knives. Being LDS, I know that even if I did die, life would still ‘go on’ for me and I’d have to still face my mistakes in life.
Of course this might ALL stem from being sick. My joints ache, my glands are swollen and bruised. My throat feels like it’s split vertically from the inside so it hurts to swallow. My head aches and my fingers are stiff. The new guys in my office are always so close to me and my desk and they are loud and try to talk to me. They brought in a fan today and that constant drone makes it hard to think. And it makes it cold. On top of which, one of the idiots in my office has expressed an interest in me when everyone else is gone. This is not the time to be trying to get on my good side guy. I’m feeling worn and sick and confussed. You’re flirting with me will only make me resent you.
That is one this I should write about. When girls feel sick- no matter how much she might like you, it’s not a good time to make a move. It might be a good time to step in and take care of her- one don’t step one toe over the line of asking for anything in return. That might mean unintentionally asking her to look cute or clean her house when you want to come to take care of her. Or maybe that’s just me. When I feel sick I don’t appreciate a kindness that requires me to get out of bed and be a good hostess. I just want to be sick and crumple up on the couch in my pjs with my hair nasty and sweaty. Having the stress of someone I want to impress in the room is NOT helpful.
Chris came over to help me once when I was so sick it was really more of an episode. When I tried to pass out so the pain would subside in unconsciousness, he knelt beside the couch and watched me try to sleep. As if I could do it with someone studying me in my total misery. If I had had any energy at that moment, I might have struck out and slugged him in the face. Instead I asked him to go away. He just retreated to the other couch and waited until I woke up.
A few weeks ago steve Anderson came over when I had a brief cold after my failed Charity to Japan event that got rained out. He brought me homemade bread. Luckily, I was already dressed in pjs and moderately presentable so I allowed him inside with the promise that once he delivered it, he’d go away and let me sleep. Even though I don’t like wheat bread or honey, I didn’t say anything and let him be kind. He stayed and talked to me while I ate. Not exactly our agreement but whatever. It was okay. But I think my feeling still stands. If you’re going to take care of someone, think about their needs, don’t only serve what you want to give. It’s nice, but… yeah.
Ow. Taking Tylonol. Why does everything have to hurt all at once?
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
little bullies
My youngest brother is a big kid. I mean, he’s chubby but he’s BIG. Taller than me and only 13. Kid has some massive density on him likely because of a kidney problem he’s had since birth. But he’s also VERY sensitive and sweet. Great with little kids and babies. Non-athletic and just a kind person. He was getting picked on at school, and you know schools. They can only do so much even if they are protecting kids to the best of their ability. So my parents gave my brother this word of advice: if the kids refuse to stop picking on you place your hands on their chest and PUSH. Don’t hit, just push.
You wouldn’t believe it. A teacher reported that he did just that. Some cruel kids were beating on my brother. So he put his hands on one of them and PUSHED, and with his density and previously untapped power the bully fleeeeeeeeeeeeew. XD Just once- and that’s all it took. Not one more fight since. And my little brother has been able to be the sweet boy he is inside since.
It reminds me of Ender’s game- the first chapter. When a group of bullies pick on Ender and he decides not just to win one battle- but all the rest as well when he still had a chance. So he kicks the main bully hard enough and juuuust frequently enough to put him on the ground- unwittingly killing him later on.
I kinda like the comparison that all my little brother had to do was one strong push, and the war was over.
Now if we can only improve his fine motor skills and communication skills along side his focus issues.
You wouldn’t believe it. A teacher reported that he did just that. Some cruel kids were beating on my brother. So he put his hands on one of them and PUSHED, and with his density and previously untapped power the bully fleeeeeeeeeeeeew. XD Just once- and that’s all it took. Not one more fight since. And my little brother has been able to be the sweet boy he is inside since.
It reminds me of Ender’s game- the first chapter. When a group of bullies pick on Ender and he decides not just to win one battle- but all the rest as well when he still had a chance. So he kicks the main bully hard enough and juuuust frequently enough to put him on the ground- unwittingly killing him later on.
I kinda like the comparison that all my little brother had to do was one strong push, and the war was over.
Now if we can only improve his fine motor skills and communication skills along side his focus issues.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I'm lame. No srsly.
I have this problem perhaps you can relate.
I’m not cool enough. And by that I mean I make myself lame though whatever paranoia, laziness, or distaste possible.
So a few of my friends are going to this thing tonight that I’m invited to. A Kind of acoustic guitar, vocals, cello and whatever else they throw together. Sounds cool right? I have no desire to go. My instincts say I have too much work to do and I should be at home using my few precious hours to focus on applying for work. This job I have leaves no time for me to apply and if I ever plan anything in the evenings, it’s right after work (with sometimes no time to even pretty up) and lasts until I collapse into bed with my clothes on. So I literally have to make the choice with my time- stay home to give myself the chance to fail or succeed at being responsible.
I think most people can pick up and do things like this because they organize their time better. They say, “Hey, I can go out. I need a break anyway.” I rarely say that to myself. I don’t take breaks. I just go out when I feel a gap in time and an excess in funds.
But truth is, even if I wasn’t doing anything serious, I’d think something was. Ohhh man, I need to clean my room. Or I have been going out too much I need to save money. The truth is, if it was something I really wanted to do with people I was interested in or ones that made me feel comfortable (going out still makes me nervous) I would probably go. But I don’t want to. I do feel uncomfortable. I do feel ugly today. I would rather be by myself at home to watch youtube.
I’m lame. I’m a lame person. A homebody. A loser. A shut in. Otaku. Dork. Introvert. Fearful. Whatever.
And now you know.
I’m not cool enough. And by that I mean I make myself lame though whatever paranoia, laziness, or distaste possible.
So a few of my friends are going to this thing tonight that I’m invited to. A Kind of acoustic guitar, vocals, cello and whatever else they throw together. Sounds cool right? I have no desire to go. My instincts say I have too much work to do and I should be at home using my few precious hours to focus on applying for work. This job I have leaves no time for me to apply and if I ever plan anything in the evenings, it’s right after work (with sometimes no time to even pretty up) and lasts until I collapse into bed with my clothes on. So I literally have to make the choice with my time- stay home to give myself the chance to fail or succeed at being responsible.
I think most people can pick up and do things like this because they organize their time better. They say, “Hey, I can go out. I need a break anyway.” I rarely say that to myself. I don’t take breaks. I just go out when I feel a gap in time and an excess in funds.
But truth is, even if I wasn’t doing anything serious, I’d think something was. Ohhh man, I need to clean my room. Or I have been going out too much I need to save money. The truth is, if it was something I really wanted to do with people I was interested in or ones that made me feel comfortable (going out still makes me nervous) I would probably go. But I don’t want to. I do feel uncomfortable. I do feel ugly today. I would rather be by myself at home to watch youtube.
I’m lame. I’m a lame person. A homebody. A loser. A shut in. Otaku. Dork. Introvert. Fearful. Whatever.
And now you know.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Monster Girl
So I have this thing. I feel like a monster.
Have you ever felt that way? Like a monster?
I must be. When I look at the world, I must see it differently from other people because when they talk about it, it’s not at all what I see. And somehow I’m the one who ends up wrong. So I must be the villain in this story. Not the hero, not the princess. But a baby dragon that has to be tamed like her mother never was.
So my mom really activated her Bi-polar disease around the time she had her third child- a few years younger than I am now. Dad and I monitor my moods and thoughts to make sure that if that ever happens to me, I won’t destroy my already delicate life. But generally it’s brough on by a huge emotional upheaval- like childbirth.
On a semi- related note, my eye has been twitching when I get stressed lately. Some time last week it was tweaking like crazy. I felt like I was having a neurological issue. Just too da*n much to think about these days. I can’t seem to sort anything out. and now I’m answering questions with the first that comes to mind- which might not be the entire truth. I’m terrified I’m going to do something wrong. Like I’m out of control. Perhaps far the directing guidance of the spirit.
Why can’t I get back to work? I can’t seem to get myself to stay on track for long.
My friend Jeremy and I are drifting apart. I’m sure I’m starting to bug him. Although I’m as sure of how that is happening just about as much as I knew why he bothered to hang with me to being with. Aka- I have no idea.
You know every valentines day I don’t really care. Admittedly I get a big disappointed, but nothing awful. I’ve never had a boyfriend over valentines day and I don’t intend to have one this year. But then, within the last year I’ve had a lot more drama and activity going on in that area. And I even got flowers last year. I hate to try to compare but I’m positive according to the way I’ve been feeling lately, that I’ll be sad this year. For whatever reason, someone I want can’t be with me. So I’ll sit at home and think about him.
It’s funny. I’m not even allowed to be proud of myself anymore. nothing I ever do Is enough. All I want to do is go home, sleep, and wake up to work and try again. Not because I love it but because I can’t stand this failure. I know it must be my period talking. I am feeling and thinking things that are unexplainable. Am I hungry or worried or sick or dizzy? I want to see to make all this go away. It’s like wanting to commit suicide without the thought ever crossing your mind. Just this urge to end the confusion. There is no end to this fight and no reward for doing well. that’s why I have to get out. I’m not a drone enough to be able to emotionally survive on this. Jeremy says I’m ungrateful. I’m glad I have a job, but is it so much to ask for something right for me? Not just any job? Gonna call dad to share my crazy.
Well dad says I have nothing to be ashamed of. And nothing to apologize for. whileI recognize I still could have handled things better, until I’m away from aunt flo, I’m going to cling to that. And he still thinks I can get a new job. I better get on that asap.
Also rusty got drugs the day of. I want drugs the day of…
Have you ever felt that way? Like a monster?
I must be. When I look at the world, I must see it differently from other people because when they talk about it, it’s not at all what I see. And somehow I’m the one who ends up wrong. So I must be the villain in this story. Not the hero, not the princess. But a baby dragon that has to be tamed like her mother never was.
So my mom really activated her Bi-polar disease around the time she had her third child- a few years younger than I am now. Dad and I monitor my moods and thoughts to make sure that if that ever happens to me, I won’t destroy my already delicate life. But generally it’s brough on by a huge emotional upheaval- like childbirth.
On a semi- related note, my eye has been twitching when I get stressed lately. Some time last week it was tweaking like crazy. I felt like I was having a neurological issue. Just too da*n much to think about these days. I can’t seem to sort anything out. and now I’m answering questions with the first that comes to mind- which might not be the entire truth. I’m terrified I’m going to do something wrong. Like I’m out of control. Perhaps far the directing guidance of the spirit.
Why can’t I get back to work? I can’t seem to get myself to stay on track for long.
My friend Jeremy and I are drifting apart. I’m sure I’m starting to bug him. Although I’m as sure of how that is happening just about as much as I knew why he bothered to hang with me to being with. Aka- I have no idea.
You know every valentines day I don’t really care. Admittedly I get a big disappointed, but nothing awful. I’ve never had a boyfriend over valentines day and I don’t intend to have one this year. But then, within the last year I’ve had a lot more drama and activity going on in that area. And I even got flowers last year. I hate to try to compare but I’m positive according to the way I’ve been feeling lately, that I’ll be sad this year. For whatever reason, someone I want can’t be with me. So I’ll sit at home and think about him.
It’s funny. I’m not even allowed to be proud of myself anymore. nothing I ever do Is enough. All I want to do is go home, sleep, and wake up to work and try again. Not because I love it but because I can’t stand this failure. I know it must be my period talking. I am feeling and thinking things that are unexplainable. Am I hungry or worried or sick or dizzy? I want to see to make all this go away. It’s like wanting to commit suicide without the thought ever crossing your mind. Just this urge to end the confusion. There is no end to this fight and no reward for doing well. that’s why I have to get out. I’m not a drone enough to be able to emotionally survive on this. Jeremy says I’m ungrateful. I’m glad I have a job, but is it so much to ask for something right for me? Not just any job? Gonna call dad to share my crazy.
Well dad says I have nothing to be ashamed of. And nothing to apologize for. whileI recognize I still could have handled things better, until I’m away from aunt flo, I’m going to cling to that. And he still thinks I can get a new job. I better get on that asap.
Also rusty got drugs the day of. I want drugs the day of…
Monday, January 17, 2011
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
My eye is twitching these days about decisions to make.
What do you think?
Should I fight this awk middle length to have Long hair? Should I even be asking? Should I keep this blog? Or make it private at last?
Should I go to the movie tonight, ice-skating with the ward, or gather to celebrate aino’s birthday when, I really don’t feel like doing anything at all.
And other stuff I can’t talk about.
Maybe I just have too many options. Need to close some of them off.
But what I wouldn’t give to be outside today. But If I had the day off, I’d probably spend it in bed with the blankets over my head and Spencer the bear crunched up in my face.
What do you think?
Should I fight this awk middle length to have Long hair? Should I even be asking? Should I keep this blog? Or make it private at last?
Should I go to the movie tonight, ice-skating with the ward, or gather to celebrate aino’s birthday when, I really don’t feel like doing anything at all.
And other stuff I can’t talk about.
Maybe I just have too many options. Need to close some of them off.
But what I wouldn’t give to be outside today. But If I had the day off, I’d probably spend it in bed with the blankets over my head and Spencer the bear crunched up in my face.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
“I am Beautiful Day”
SO I just got invited to a Fb event called “I am Beautiful Day”- a day where women celebrate how beautiful they are. I didn’t read the whole description but I bet they mean both inside and out. and that every girl is pretty and unique in her own way.
Ignoring the idea that I don’t find myself very beautiful and that there are many women who shouldn’t ‘flaunt what they “got”’, I also have to consider that though there must be a % of people from the about 12,400 people attending this that are no so pretty on the inside either.
Some of the kinds of women who go to these kinds of events are essentially celebrating themselves. 12,400 people who have chosen to join such an event- not because they have self esteem issues, but exactly the opposite. They think enough of themselves to say, “Yeah! I am beautiful! Let’s do that! I’d like to celebrate me!”
It brings to my mind an image of women much like the one who invited me to the event- self indulgent, lazy, and unfortunately ugly woman- inside and out. I can see masses of them sun bathing and fanning themselves on “I am Beautiful day” putting their noses up at the hired help and bashing the skinny girls in the magazines they bought to learn tips on how to manipulate your man into being the Romeo you always wanted. Maybe shouting ‘YOU GO GIRL’ at each other.
Here is what I think they should be celebrating: Let’s be Beautiful Day. How about being kind and understanding and patient? That’ll make you feel beautiful.
Look, I know the importance of *feeling* pretty from time to time. I don’t mind feeling pretty (until someone says it out loud. Then I get all kinds of shy >///<). But in truth, I’ll put on sexy underwear or long socks to walk around in to feel pretty from time to time. I get the effort here. And I can’t condemn their attempts in any way. I’m sure it’ll be good for someone to remind themselves that all hope is not lost. I’m only commenting on what came to mind when I read it. And that image is now stuck in my head enough to convince me not to join “I am Beautiful Day”.
Ignoring the idea that I don’t find myself very beautiful and that there are many women who shouldn’t ‘flaunt what they “got”’, I also have to consider that though there must be a % of people from the about 12,400 people attending this that are no so pretty on the inside either.
Some of the kinds of women who go to these kinds of events are essentially celebrating themselves. 12,400 people who have chosen to join such an event- not because they have self esteem issues, but exactly the opposite. They think enough of themselves to say, “Yeah! I am beautiful! Let’s do that! I’d like to celebrate me!”
It brings to my mind an image of women much like the one who invited me to the event- self indulgent, lazy, and unfortunately ugly woman- inside and out. I can see masses of them sun bathing and fanning themselves on “I am Beautiful day” putting their noses up at the hired help and bashing the skinny girls in the magazines they bought to learn tips on how to manipulate your man into being the Romeo you always wanted. Maybe shouting ‘YOU GO GIRL’ at each other.
Here is what I think they should be celebrating: Let’s be Beautiful Day. How about being kind and understanding and patient? That’ll make you feel beautiful.
Look, I know the importance of *feeling* pretty from time to time. I don’t mind feeling pretty (until someone says it out loud. Then I get all kinds of shy >///<). But in truth, I’ll put on sexy underwear or long socks to walk around in to feel pretty from time to time. I get the effort here. And I can’t condemn their attempts in any way. I’m sure it’ll be good for someone to remind themselves that all hope is not lost. I’m only commenting on what came to mind when I read it. And that image is now stuck in my head enough to convince me not to join “I am Beautiful Day”.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Yes
Ssometimes I think I really want a boyfriend because then, I would never ever have to say 'no' to him.
I could say, "I'm sorry" to everyone else, but not to him. I think I want to be the kind of girlfriend who always says 'yes'.
Like my parents. When they held their first grandchild my dad said the line he'd be aching to for years-
"My name is Grandpa and this is the last time you'll ever hear this from me- 'no.'"
I could say, "I'm sorry" to everyone else, but not to him. I think I want to be the kind of girlfriend who always says 'yes'.
Like my parents. When they held their first grandchild my dad said the line he'd be aching to for years-
"My name is Grandpa and this is the last time you'll ever hear this from me- 'no.'"
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