July 22, 2008


Okedokey, so my whole life I have been waited to be told what to do. Meaning I need instructions for everything or someone else's opinion. I'm sporadic yes, BUT I don't usually jump unless I know for sure that I'll be landing some what safely. The only exception to that is when I moved to San Francisco and everything went to shit. I had no idea what the future held or if I would make it but damn it, I tried and here I am. ANYWAY I'm not quite sure the reasons behind this whole instruction obsession, but I'm sure it can be attributed to something from my childhood and blahity blah but right now the cause isn't what concerns me, instead I'm concerned with the fact that I apparently need instructions for EVERYTHING in my life. How to dress, how to act, how to eat, how to BE.

Lame, lame and more lame.

I have always been extremely uncomfortable around people that were completely confidant in who they were. The people who dressed/acted how ever they wanted to. For example the people that just dress in clothes they like to it because THEY like it. It's that simple to them. They shop and pick out the clothes they want to wear not because a model wore them or an ad convinced them they'd be sexier with it but because they just liked that particular shirt. I've always been on the tail end of trends. When I had more confidence I would dress according to my mood. Sometimes this meant I would be covered in bright colors and kooky accessories, sometimes I would wear all black. Now I feel self conscious because i don't have a defined style. I'm not like the cute hipster girls in their 60's dresses and perfect hair. I am not rail thin and my hip bones don't protrude from 'neath my jeans. I mean hell, I'm uncomfortable looking in the mirror. Yes, you can laugh at the absurdity of that. One of my best friends came to visit me and when she bounded into my closet, expecting my crazy colors and weird dresses she froze, turned to me horrified shouting “Heather, where are all your colors?”. I just gave a watery smile and fell deeper in to my self built shell. My shell has become so constrictive that I feel like I'm going mad because I am so skittish and anxious all the time and questioning EVERYTHING because I feel that I need someone else to tell me what to do. A trend is something that is popular NOT a garment that's holding a gun to your head screaming "WEAR ME OR DIE!!!!". Why oh why do I care? They're fucking clothes.

I also feel bad for other people. I put myself in their shoes especially if they're unknowingly being made fun of but... I need to realize that THEY put THEMSELVES in that situation. If they're uncomfortable THEY should walk away, not me.

Another thing I realized, going to school is to HONE your talents and interests, it's not to give you a rigid set of rules to follow. For example I love taking photos and when one of my friends was looking through them he commented that I was “quite the photographer”. I immediately corrected him and assured him that I am not a photographer, I've never gone to school for it. He looked at me funny and asked what school had to do with it. I just said thats where you learn to be a photographer. He arched his brow and said, “Well you take photos don't you? Some of the greatest photographers never went to school for it, they just did it. So you're a photographer.” The first part of the definition of a photographer is: a person who takes photographs. It adds especially one who practices it professionally BUT it's not just defined as someone who does it professionally. Going to school for photography adds on to whats already there: a desire to take a photo. Thats the basis of it isn't it? To share what you see. To capture an image, to bring attention to something that's there or even something that isn't. School provides the tools you need to better your skill and to develop your own style but it doesn't provide the desire or the passion for it. It doesn't guarantee that you will be a photographer. Thats all up to you.

Another thing - I am terrified to sing in front of people. And I mean true terror. The kind that closes your airways. Why? I am so terrified that someone will tell me I have a terrible voice but thats their opinion, that doesn't mean I do actually sing terribly. For example Conor Oberst's voice makes me want to destroy the speaker it's coming from BUT to some people he's amazing. Why am I letting SOMEONE ELSE'S opinion stop me from singing? Why does it matter? They can walk away. But then there are those that just have to tear you down. They want to watch you break, see the joy and confidence flee from your eyes. Usually it's because they're secretly envious. You had the courage to go up and sing and show strangers a very private part of yourself. I have decided that unless this person has a knife/gun, I am going to try and hug them. Why not? They clearly need it and hell maybe I'll scare them away or make them smile.

The only time I am physically comfortable is when I dance. I love to dance. I just listen to the music and move. I don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks of me then because at one time or another we will ALL look like we’re having some type of flashing-light-induced seizure. And it is actually fun to dance like a spaz because if you're with friends you're all laughing, if you're alone people will clear space for you. It's a win win situation.

I am way too nice. Really. I apologize to people that RUN INTO ME. Seriously. I will not stand up for myself BUT if you threaten someone I love I'll be there with a spiked baseball bat asking you to repeat yourself. Why wouldn't I do that for myself? If I feel that I'm not worth standing up for, who will? I'm afraid that if I do stand up for myself someone will think that I'm a bitch buuuuut if I'm standing up for myself, doesn't that mean someone is trying to push me down? I don't want to go to the extreme and end up one of those gals that acts like she has a diamond studded stick shoved up her ass. And my thought process is this – if I'm aware of the fact that I am pushing back only because I was pushed to begin with I'm not being a bitch. And if I am called one, it's because the person doesn't want resistance. Well to that I say


I love to write. I adore stories. I honestly live for them. I've been invited to read some of my work and I am terrified that I will get up there and people will just hate every word I read. But part of me hopes that maybe I'll get some laughs maybe someone will enjoy what I have to say. But, this is like the whole voice thing, everyone has a different opinion and loves a different writing style. I know that not everyone will like it. But I have to remember that not everyone will hate it. Even if it's just ONE PERSON.

Now, this could be a manic episode BUT because I'm not calling everyone I know claiming I just had a life changing epiphany I'm hoping this is just my brain clicking and being all “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I get it, I get it” and my poor bruised, battered and dejected self confidence is all “FINALLY FUCKER! WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!” I need to keep these thoughts. I will keep these thoughts.

There are no instructions for life. So what the fuck am I waiting for?

Also, ahem yes, I am aware that more than one person has told me these things. I am aware that I've SAID them before BUT now they're in writing. I sat down and forced my fingers to commit the letters together and forced my brain to read them. I'm thinking this will help them stick. Also I'm kind of posting it as a “this is how I was, now watch what I'll be, but keep your negativity outta my face otherwise you'll get a jellyfish thrown at your face”.

The ocean is just a short train ride away people, I'll get a net and everything.

I need to live for me. I want to share what I see and think but I need to remember that I need to do it FOR me. Not for anyone else. It's what I WANT. It's me. So if some one doesn't like it, I don't really care, I'm not doing it for them. I'm doing it FOR ME!

So, once more, with feeling! (No I've never seen that entire Buffy episode because musicals make me uncomfortable... )


July 16, 2008

Beware of my Shards Of Hate

Yes, I am aware that I am slacking hardcore on my goal, but so far 25 is the year of the stupid injuries. As I type this, two of my fingers are taped together because I may have fractured one (my pinky) or torn a ligament…


I am crabby due to pain pills which I DESPISE taking. In my opinion, whatever is hurting should be fixed, they shouldn’t hand out something that will cover it up because that feeling is there for a reason - something is wrong. It’s only IB Profin (but one pill is 800mg) and I also got vicodin. I have not taken one yet nor do I plan to unless a limb falls off. I hate pain pills. I HHHHAAAAAAAAAAAATEEEEEEEEE them. I hate how my doctor just handed me an rx for it and sent me on my way. I want to be fixed thankyouverymuch not stupefied.


I ache to write a happy post. I've constructed some in my head but every time I go to sit down and write it I become distracted and end up watching realllllly shitty movies on youtube.


Ohhhhhh man do I have a bevy of irrational anger right now. Mostly at myself, but bits and pieces can be thrown at people. OMG wouldn’t that be awesome?!? That when you’re angry, you can take the anger out of your head and THROW it at people. Omfg that would RULE. The would be like little glass shards so that when you hear that disgruntled yelp of pain you can smile? That’s not sadistic at all.



I want to curl up and sleep with out waking up with a muffled scream because my arm is throbbing. LAME LAME LAME. 25 IS FUCKING LAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMME.

lol and that little voice that says “it could always be worse” just tried to pop up but I think the anger in me just punched it in the face…. ahhh well.

Also, I think I would like a hug.

The end.

HA I LIED! Instead, this sums up how I feel right now.

This was done by the lovely Nataliedee. She is rad times a bazillion. Even cooler than your mom. THATS how awesome she is.

Carry on.