The Discovery of Stuff and Things

Self Discipline HAR HAR HAR

2012-01-23T18:12:00.000-08:00

Yeah. Self discipline. Clearly I am an avid follower.

2011 took over my life in a real messed up way and the end of it kinda hit me like a rabid kid beating on a pinata. Very few people I know had a good 2011. My good friend had her house burn down, and the bar she worked at closed down. I had my purse stolen which wouldn't really be a big deal except all of the material I was collecting for stand up was in a notebook, IN the purse. Then I had a cancer scare (NO BIG DEAL HAR HAR HAR) and then broke my foot and pretty much missed all the holidays. I also was warned that it was highly likely that I was going to get fired. This sent me into panic mode and had me planning to move back to WI then possible to Vancouver. Then 2012 rolled around and (crosses fingers and prays to whatever there is that I'm not jinxing it) so far… really good. Met a dude that still wanted to hang out with me even though new year's included a wonderful array of stomach splattering pyrotechnics from yours truly.

Goooooood times.

I'm back at work and while I know I'm on thin ice, so far so good. Unfortunately my possible kick to the ass was more so the fault of a developer I'm working with, it was still my responsibility to manage the project and I should have recognized that it was somewhat tanking.

Also in 2011, I pretty much lost passion for any creative endeavor, as proof with my keeping up with this blog. However, I did take an improv class and did a performance which was AWESOMESAUCE but then I started working 50 to 60 hours a week and my brain gave me the finger and was all "You think I have energy to be funny? How's this for funny, cunt?" So I just kinda shut down. I also haven't written a short story in a year which for me is real bad. Writing is pretty much the only passion that ever stuck with me and the fact I haven't actively pursued it makes me feel like I cut off a limb. I still am taking photos but due to my lack of energy and self discipline, that has waned as well.

Sooooo now that my oh-so-horrible problems are out and about, time to stop being a whiny bitch and do something about it, yeah?

I'm Back Bitches

2011-11-07T19:42:00.000-08:00

After a very long absence I shall be returning to the world of blogging. My life kinda imploded with work and a fuck ton of weird happenings. I haven't really written anything in a year and I need to kick my own ass to start again.

SO, if anyone actually still reads this.... hello again! lol

I WILL be updating at least once a week cause I plan to start making A LOT of ch-ch-changes in my life. Mainly enforcing that whole self discipline thing that I am OHHH so good at.

So WOOTZLE!!

Now for some Max Normal TV

Herrrrreeee we go!!

2011 = Change

2011-01-06T12:02:00.000-08:00

I’ve been super absent from my blog lately due to some momentous changes in my life. It’s a bit hard to write this because I had so many other ideas for entries but I’d like to put what I feel in writing as it makes it a bit more real. So, a recap:

In December I moved out of the apartment I lived in with my boyfriend for over a year. I moved into a studio in the Mission district of San Francisco which is where I have wanted to live for a very long time. I love my studio and it has become my home, my haven. I must admit it’s awesome to have complete decorating control. I’ve already reached the point of making it my own so that when people walk in they know it’s my place as it is so very Heather lol. Pictures will be posted as my sister has threatened me with bodily harm if I don’t. Plus I’m actually quite proud of it. My boyfriend moved in with his grandma in Alameda to save some money and we finished completely moving out of our apartment last week. Our walk through was on the 31st so we truly started the new year fresh.

Earlier this week my boss let me know that was resigning. This is substantial in that he has become like a second dad to me. He was there for me when very few people were and quite honestly there were times where I really should have been terminated but he believed in me enough to ride out the rough times. This also means the dynamic of my workplace will change significantly. I am going to have to step up my game as I know I do quite a lot but I know I can do more and do better.

Last night my boyfriend of almost 2 years I broke up. It was completely mutual and no hearts were broken. But it’s still hard in the sense that for awhile I truly thought that this was it. This was the last person I’d date. Perhaps everyone feels that in a relationship at one time or another. He’s going to be moving to Portland later this year so our relationship was going to end at one point or another. We also had been growing apart for quite awhile. But I regret nothing and would take nothing back. I have learned so much from him and this relationship. I learned that I could be loved and I deserved it. I learned what I would accept and when it was too much. We will continue to be friends and for that I am grateful because I still love him albeit in a different way then when we started. I know that he has learned a lot as well and that makes me incredibly happy. That’s what a close of a relationship should be. Don’t focus on the end; focus on the journey that got you there. The good, the bad, it was all worth it. This song pretty much incorporates everything I feel in a beautiful way, except for the broken heart part, obviously lol. However, this relationship has made my heart much, much stronger.

I will be posting a lot more due to the fact that I will FINALLY be getting the interweb in my new place tomorrow. It’s also part of my new year’s resolution as I have been inspired by all the amazing blogs I follow. I’m not even sure if anyone reads this anymore but I plan to add a lot more stuff and things.

So yeah, 2011 has started off with a hell of a bang. I am a little apprehensive to see where this year will take me but I have a feeling that it will be full of changes for the better. Mostly in myself. Woot!

I'M ALIVE!

2010-07-06T10:47:00.000-07:00

Yeah… so, been awhile. Life kinda took over and I kinda lost the motivation to post. I’ll probably be updating my other blog in a day or two to go over the details. Bad things happen to me in 3’s. I also have the birthday week curse. Everything awful will happen during this week. Lets recap. My birthday was June 19 and the series of unfortunate events began with:

My Grandmother’s funeral was ON my birthday so I got some lovely calls. “She looks so beautiful, we wish you were here. Happy Birthday. Wonderful. We weren’t that close so while I mourned, it wasn’t really a tragedy due to the fact that she hadn’t been doing the best for awhile.
The morning after my birthday party, our neighbor was found dead in his bed, in his apartment. This means that he died less than 4 feet from where I sleep. And my boyfriend and I believe that he died on Thursday because we heard some really intense snoring (realllllly thin walls) then suddenly it stopped. He usually calls his friends EVERY morning at 9am and we hadn’t heard him since then. So yeah, I heard the death rattle. Ah ha.
I got the WORST sunburn I have EVER had. We’re talking blisters, intense pain and a Dr trip that involved Vicodin.
This last weekend someone got a hold of my credit card number and stole $975. That was my rent money. Good times.
My dad has to have intense surgery July 15 and I am terrified for him.

So yeah. Being 27 has not been pleasant. I can really no longer say “It could be worse” because every time I do, something fucked up happens. I apologize for the unpleasant tone of this post BUT I did get a SLR camera and have been taking pics left and right so I will be posting them soon! So I guess this is just an update so everyone knows I’m a live. Lol. That is if anyone still reads this blog lol.

Ze Discovery of ... Stuff lol

2010-02-09T13:40:00.000-08:00

Yo! Tis February! Time to up the photos to twice a week. I also have the last photo from January so, without further ado:

Photo 5

My beau is my favorite model due to his many expressions lol Taken 1-30-10

Photo 6

I actually took this with my phone. I was super surprised at the awesome quality of the picture. G3 FOR LIFE! Taken on 2-3-10

Photo 7

I am trying DESPERATELY to grow SOMETHING. I actually killed bamboo so I’m a bit scarred. The one thing I CAN grow seems to be mold. Meh. Damn San Francisco climate! Taken 2-6-10.

I did my taxes last night and while I would LOVE to buy a Nikon D-90 or an iMac with my return… alas, it all goes to my credit card bill. But once I pay that off I’ll actually be able to save money so I can get my pretties. Also, I owe the state $31. WHAT THE FUCK? I’ve NEVER owed any money after doing taxes.

Lame.

I got a raise so expect lots of pics involving my apartment as I’m going to be decorating like mad!!

WOOT!

The Discovery of My Blogger Anthropologic Self

2010-01-29T12:14:00.000-08:00

Photo 4 - I’m late in posting it, BUT, it was taken. So yay. A blogger I read made an interesting point. She said that no one should apologize for living life instead of blogging as the whole life thing is kind of the basis OF a blog. So yeah, smart gal. lol So yeah, life is the basis of my absence. So there.

Last weeks photo is a close up of a owl wreath that my awesomely crafty friend Nomi made:

The cute is super present, yes? Here is a shot of the whole thing:

She is AWESOMESAUCE.

Ok, onward ho to blog thoughts. So, in my US History class (shudder, I HATE US History, not because I hate history, in fact I LOVE ANCIENT history, just not US History cause they kinda push the fact that there were people here before us into a closet and vaguely go over it) we were talking about how to read a historical article and one of the main points to consider is who was the intended audience. This made me think about my blog. Quite honestly I think the only audience is me at this point. I mean… when I write something it’s mostly to get it out of my head and when I post my pictures, especially from my photo project, it’s for me. I’m proud of myself that I am sticking to a goal for the first time in my life. If people do read my blog that would be AWESOME because the whole reason I read other blogs is for a person’s story: what is their life like, what do they like, what inspires them, what troubles them.

I love stories.

Humans are absolutely fascinating and so incredibly unique. I love it. I love being a silent part of someone’s life. It’s comforting to know that other people wonder about the same things I do and it’s comforting to know that they don’t. The other blogs I read (some of them are to the right on my blog roll) all seem to have a theme. People actually post pictures of themselves and snippets of things they write. I just kind of observe.

I’m a blogger anthropologist.

I think that’s AWESOME. A lot of other bloggers post trinkets and photos from other blogs and stuff but I just really, really, REALLY, love reading people’s stories. When I find a new blog I’ll usually go all the way back to their first post and read from there so it’s like the beginning of a story, or at least a new chapter. I love it. If people read my first entry on this blog it would be like entering a world Lewis Carroll created. There isn’t any rhyme or reason, and the story line is filled with tangents, but it’s there. I dunno. The audience concept made me consider that as I type this, will anyone read it, and if they do, what will it do for them? Kill time at work? Inspire them? Confuse them? I hope it at least makes them more curious as to what’s in my brain because I do love sharing it, as vain as that sounds. I have so many stories I need to write and so many different ways of looking at things I’d like to share.

I guess this means that I just need to actually stick to a posting schedule and force my brain to think in a more structured way instead of just spitting out random inspirations sporadically.

Ahhhhhh yeah.

Le Discovery of Photo 3

2010-01-18T11:01:00.000-08:00

Ha! I have not forgotten my picture of the week! This week it’s a close up pic of my friend Sean’s new tattoo. It’s a character from an Edward Gorey story titled “The Doubtful Guest”.

Le cool, no? Taken on 1-14-10. It's comforting to know that there is someone out there with legs as white as mine. HA!

For those of you in that bay area, WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH ALL THIS RAIN??? I woke up this morning and felt like I was in a hurricane. The wind was beating the shit out of our building. If it was snowing I would be able to utter the phrase in the pic below:

I start school this week and see an Ortho for my fucked up shoulder so this should be an interesting week. I will update on how these classes go as my last class (photography) kinda BLEW. Anywho....

The Discovery of a Goal

2010-01-10T16:07:00.000-08:00

Happy 2010 yo!

Ok, sooooooo, I'll be the first person to admit that I have a huge problem with setting goals and actually achieving them. So this year I'm determined to set feasible goals. Usually I'd set these completely unrealistic goals like... postingonceadayonthisblog or something like that.

<_<>_>

Ahem. SOOOO this is ONE of my goals for this year - I will be taking one photo a week in January, then two photos a week in February, then 3 photos a week in March and so on. Another part of this goal is to POST these photos on here so I HAVE to begin sticking to my goal of posting more. I know that everyone and their mom has a blog (example, Sea of Shoes' Jane. Her mother ALSO has a blog) and I know that collecting an audience is kinda hard. I'd like to though. I dunno why lol. Maybe because I find so much inspiration in other blogs that it would be cool to also be a catalyst.

Any who. Another part of this goal is to teach myself self discipline which is something I.. ahh.... don't really have. I'm aware that in order to actually achieve anything that I want, I really need discipline. So yeah. I have some other goals that I'll talk about in another post because right now my boyfriend is jumping up and down demanding that we watch a movie. lol

Here are my pictures for the first 2 weeks of this project:

Taken 1-1-10

Taken 1-4-10

You can also look at me photos on flickr.

The Discovery of Making Good Foods

2009-12-30T12:51:00.000-08:00

Let me just start off by saying that I didn’t say cooking or baking in the title of this blog because dear readers, I have tackled BOTH in these last couple of days. I am not one to toot my own horn but the results have been pretty fricken awesome if I do say so myself.

First up - Baking. Ok, so, I actually kinda shuddered at the thought of baking because 1. I never took chemistry and 2. I’m not the best at following directions in an exact way (shocking, I know). What does chemistry have to do with baking you ask? EVERYTHING.

Example: I was attempting to make chocolate mint cupcakes before my Christmas party on December 19th. Now, while the cupcakes were from a box mix, the directions stated things that I had never seen before, such as “Cream the butter”. Wtf is that? Isn’t butter already creamy? I googled it and apparently it means to combine sugar with butter. First problem. The directions on the back of the cupcake box did not call for sugar. Mind you, this is just the frosting. Now for the real bitch - the cupcakes. OKKKKKKK SOOOOO the recipe called for unsalted butter aka sweet cream butter to be beat with a hand mixer. Ok, no problem right? WRONG. I had taken the butter out AT LEAST an hour before so that it would soften. Apparently it wasn’t soft enough and got caught up in the… beater thingys and refused to be beaten. Of COURSE I get the rebellious butter. Now here is where I made my huge mistake. I figured well hell, why not throw a stick on the microwave and THEN beat it. Logical, right? I do that and the butter melts (I can hear all those familiar with baking saying Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! or Nooooooooooooo!) but I figure no big deal right? It’s going to melt in the oven anyway, right? NOPE. I combined everything else, put the mixture in the cupcake tins, put them in the over and set the time timer for 20mins and walked away. 20 mins later the cupcakes had not solidified. 15 more mins. Still a liquidy consistency. I was already stressed because the kitchen was a disaster and the party was supposed to start in 2 hours so you can image my howls of frustration. I ended up just throwing everything away and vowing to never attempt to make that brand of cupcakes again.

Due to this previous experience you can understand why I was a bit nervous when I got a wild hair up my ass to make chocolate chip cookies from scratch, right? ANYWAY, my mother is a lean, mean, baking machine. She can make pretty much bake anything and doesn’t even need a recipe (bitch). So I called home with the intention of getting her chocolate chip cookie recipe only to have my dad answer and remind me that my mother was up north visiting HER mother. So my dad went through my mothers MANY cook books and found a few recipes. I copied one down and entered my kitchen determined to make my butter scream TOBY. Learning from my past mistake I made SURE the butter was super soft but NOT melted. I figured that since the other recipe called for combining the sugar and butter first, I’d do that. Then I added the vanilla extract, then the egg. I had already mixed the flour, baking soda, and salt in another bowl and SLOWLY added that to the butter mixture. After everything was mixed I stirred in the chocolate chips. I greased the cookie sheet (yay spray on butter!) and plopped some of the dough onto the sheet, shoved it in the oven and vowed that if these cookies turned out bad I would never bake again.

How did they turn out? FUCKING AWESOME! Because I am a firm believer of “Pics or it didn’t happen” you can see a picture of one of the wonderful, fluffy cookies below. They came out perfect. I mean REALLY perfect! They were soft and hard in all the right places (what does that wound like I’m describing a man…..) and yummers.

I felt triumphant. It was awesome.

Ok, now on to the cooking. I can honestly say that I think I’m becoming a pretty damn good cook. I’m like my mom in that I only really need basic guidelines and I can go by taste. On to the cooking awesomeness. We (Stu and I) subscribe to Farm Fresh to You which is a company that delivers fresh produce, right from the farm to you, hence the name. The quality is AMAZING and it’s given me the chance to try vegetables and fruits I never would have. Example, I had never had a leek before. I had no idea what it was and thought it looks like a green onion on steroids (I’m not kidding, the size of the ones we get would make a great weapon). We had gotten leeks before and had either given them away or ended up throwing them away because they went bad. When our box came yesterday it had more leeks. It also had potatoes. A couple of friends have talked about potato leek soup so I thought, what the hell, I’ll try it. I found a recipe on one of the MANY online recipe places and it called for bacon as well. For the recipe I used, the first thing you’re supposed to do is cut up the potatoes and bring them to a boil in chicken broth. I wanted to add a bit more flavor so I added, salt, pepper, garlic salt, and some dried minced onions. That alone tasted yummy so I was excited. The next thing you do is fry up the bacon and then keep some of the grease to sauté the leeks in. Easy peasy. When the potatoes are tender, add the leeks, bacon, and some heavy cream.

IT WAS FUCKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Stu went back for doubles and I have some left over that I’m going to eat for lunch. A pic of the awesomness is below.

So, the moral of this post is… try new things, keep on trying, AND food is awesome. Like, realllllllly awesome. *looks at thighs* ahem… food is also awesome in moderation….

The Discovery of Me School Photos

2009-11-05T10:08:00.001-08:00

As previously promised, here are a few of my favorite pics I have taken for photography class:

You take these without my permission, I harm you. For serious. It's happened before.

*glares menacingly*

lol K. Soooooo what do ya think, y'all

The Discovery of the Major Incompetence and Suckage of Northwest Airlines

2009-11-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

Ah ha. Once more it has been too long since I have updated…

*slaps hand*

I will admit that I have been in a rut as of late so words weren’t exactly flowing from my brain… more like sticking to the inside of the imagination. Anywho. This post is a tale of my adventure to WI. And oh what a tale it is.

Sooooo we start on October 28th (last Wednesday). Our plane was supposed to take off from SFO at 2:51pm and land in Minneapolis, MN at 8:36pm leaving us plenty of time to make our connecting flight to Madison, WI at 10pm. We booked our tickets through Orbitz which was handy because it texts me in case there are any delays.

The first text informed me that our flight would be delayed until 3:45pm and would now arrive in Minneapolis at 9:30pm. Ok, that was cutting it close but still doable.

The second text informed me that we were now delayed until 4:10pm and wouldn’t arrive until 9:42pm. Nail biting ensued. Surely our connecting flight would be delayed as well?!

Nay. I received a third text from Orbitz letting me know that it was A-ok and on time. I honestly wasn’t really worried because I figured they’d hold the plane as there were 7 other people going to Madison from our flight. This is logical because there are only 20 seats on the plane to Madison and it wasn’t even full.

Did this happen? Ohhhhh no. In fact, our connecting flight headed out to the runway right as we were taxiing in. Now, I have traveled via plane a lot and LOGICALLY there was always another flight to my desired airport. But, this is Northwest (or Northworst as it shall now be called) and logic DOES NOT APPLY. No more flights = what the fuck do we do. Well, thank goodness there was an older gentleman that rallied us together and we pounced on the ticketing agent letting her know that they would provide a hotel room for us and a new plane ticket. Our new departure time was at 8:45am the next day and boy oh boy did they spring for a wonderful hotel room at the Days Inn. I don’t know if any of you have ever stayed in a Days Inn but the atmosphere of our lovely cigarette scented room (and this was a non-smoking room) inspired me to keep my socks on at all times. Stu (my beau) attempted to take a shower and found that the hot and cold was mixed up and showering was not an option for me as there was only ONE towel.

Good times, good times.

So we finally arrived in Madison and my brother in law picked us up and the WI adventure began. The whole family experience may or may not be provided in another post as it wasn’t too eventful (thank god) but at the same time… meh.

So after this lovely trip to WI we figured that we just couldn’t possibly have bad luck back to CA. Right? Right?

HOLY FUCKING WRONG.

The same motherfucking thing happened. The flight was delayed out of Madison and OF COURSE we would have missed our connecting flight to SFO and OF COURSE there were no more planes to SFO that day so we had to stay one more night in Fort Atkinson with my sister.

How much do I hate Northworst? Let’s just say that if I ever ran in to CEO of the company, I wouldn’t hesitate to punch him in the balls for not funding enough flights AND for using shitty planes. Fun Fact: Northwest was bought out by Delta due to the lack of funds so the same goes for any Delta CEO.

Here are some pics that help me convey my hate.

These images belong to lolercats

The Discovery of Lack of Time

2009-09-25T16:29:00.000-07:00

Time, time, TIME!

Where do you go? Blarg. I’ve become a blog junkie as of late and I want to know HOW THESE GIRLS DO ALL THESE THINGS!!!!! Their photos, their stories, how the hell do they have time to write them and take the photos? Do they have a job? How????????? I feel like my head is full of sand. I want to get back into drawing or take more photos but when I get home the only thing I can think of is how comforting the bed is.

Meh.

It could have something to do with the fact that we are STILL not settled into our new abode. And no, I shan’t post pictures till every last box has been banished from our living space.

Speaking of boxes.

My mother (who has discovered my blog….) sent Stu and I 26 boxes of stuff. Yes, 26. What is this “stuff”: toilet paper, canned foods, placemats, pine-sol, garbage bags, candles, flashlights, etc - the very definition of stuff. Have I mentioned that I’ve lived in San Francisco for 5 years? Now, I am in no way ungrateful… it’s just… we were almost done unpacking before all these boxes arrived. Also, if there is a zombie invasion you are all invited to my pad as I have enough canned food to last over a year and since we’re on a hill, picking zombies off from our balcony will be easy.

So, back to my whine. These blogs:

make me restless and craving adventure. I want to find my creative streak again and sew it to my toes like Wendy sewed Peter’s shadow so it never escaped again. I also want to try selling some of my drawings.

*shuffles feet nervously*

I haven’t really showed anyone what I draw and I still haven’t found a good medium to produce it on but I really, really want to try.

I’ve been getting really in to photography lately (not just for my class) and am going to start saving up for an SLR. It’s funny because when I told everyone that I was taking a photography class, most people encouraged me by saying that I had a really good eye for it. My mother even sent me a pic I took of the ocean (while in Florida) when I was about 13 that she framed. I’ll post my assignment pictures on here eventually.

*twiddles thumbs*

As I said, time is of the lost category for me right now. One thing I have noticed while taking photography class is that I really, really, really disliked learning the “technicalities” as I go by how it looks and what I WANT it to look like. In my last class the teacher gave us a situation where you had to measure the light balance and then from that reading figure out what the best shutter time and aperture stop would work best. How can you answer that? What if you want it under-exposed or over-exposed? How can you judge without taking a picture? I’d rather go on what I feel. I dunno… art in general is so hard to teach because everyone approaches a subject a different way and while 100 people could be looking at the same thing, they’ll interpret it their own way through their own medium.

*sigh*

Methinks it’s time to find my self discipline. Honestly, I think it’s at a bar some where downing whiskey and cursing my ability to overpower it.

*sigh again*

The Discovery of the Swine Flu

2009-09-22T12:27:00.000-07:00

Yes, I contracted h1n1 flu aka the dreaded Swine Flu.

Who has the best luck in the world? *points to self*

Obviously I’m alive so the panic the press instilled in to most of America was just hype (the press over dramatize something??? NOOO NEVER!). Honestly it wasn’t that bad. It was kind of like the normal flu only without the vomiting from both mouth and bum (thank god). The only difference was that I got the worst chills I’ve ever had in my life. My teeth were chattering so hard that I thought I’d break one. The only major concern was my breathing. I have mild asthma and need an inhaler from time to time and the swine flu has been deadly to those with lung problems due to the fact that it actually attacks the lungs the hardest. I had to get my inhaler again and am still using it.

Meh.

Another not so nice thing was that I was ALWAYS tired. and had a bit of a fever. I was sleeping 14+ hours a day and still felt like a zombie. I was off work and school for 10 days which would have been nice had I the energy to do ANYTHING. The first time I left the house was to get a new wireless router because we had an old one that had given up on life. That trip seemed very long to me, and very, very, slow and more than a few puffs were needed to walk up the “omfg this is a steep hill” by my house.

Another kick to the crotch from lady luck was the fact that my boyfriend, whom I was the ONLY one in contact with while sick, DIDN'T EVEN GET IT!!!! I know that is a GOOD thing but COME ON! He got the regular flu but not the "special flu". Fuck you immune system, fuck you.

I feel loads better now but the exhausting is lingering. The positive side to all this is that I think I repaid some of my sleeping debt as the bags under my eyes have dissipated a bit.

Speaking of medical maladies, I have to get a mole removed this Thursday. Le meh. I’ve had one removed before and had to get like 7 stitches because it was so large and they were worried that it was cancerous so they took a fuck ton of skin with it. But I lucked out and no cancer was found. WOOT! This mole is a bit of a concern as it went through the “OMG THIS SHOULD BE LOOKED AT” stages in less than a week.

Once again, Meh.

But because I have the bestest boyfriend in the world, he’s going to take me to Fentons after the procedure so that I can drool all over delicious ice cream. WOOT!

So yeah! The M.I.A time will hopefully lessen and I will share the many discoveries that I have made as of late!

Also, here are a few lolercat picture to make up for the lameness of this post:

These photos belong to Lolcats.

The Discovery of the Social Stigma attached to “Being in a Relationship”

2009-09-04T14:40:00.000-07:00

K, so I know that I haven’t updated in awhile but life has been a bit nuts. Let me explain for those that read this and don’t know me:

1. I met a boy whom I liked very much and we started dating in May.
2. Things clicked so well that we jokingly said we should move in together as both of our living situations were becoming a bit stressful.
3. We moved in together in August.
4. We have been super broke so going out wasn’t really an option and inviting people to our house was kind of a no because we intermittently had a table and chairs and we don’t have a couch soooooo yeah.
5. I started school again and am taking photography and loving it. We meet twice a week.
6. Something may be wrong with my body as I am tired all the time and suddenly unable to consume alcohol a majority of the time. I be getting tests done. The Doctors are 70% sure that it’s NOT my medication as I’ve been on it for almost a year now and this has never happened.
7. Now that I’m on ADD meds I can actually concentrate at work and am attempting to make up for my YEARS of incompetence. *A note about my job* I have a job that can be considered a “career” so it requires a lot of concentration and time. I say “Career” because I never went to school for it and I honestly created the job myself. It didn’t exist until I started working there.
8. Le boy and I have had to make multiple trips to goodwill to drop off stuff that we don’t need and we’ve made a tip to the dump (which was interesting as we got lost…) which is pretty much an all day thing because we have to load it up, drive, unload it, drop the car off, walk up a huge fucking hill to get home and try not to collapse…
9. I had a HUGE event for work in August that kept me at work till 8 almost every night and we’re still recovering from it and need to start setting up for next years big event.

Ok, now to get to the nitty gritty. I was unaware of how different people act towards you when you are in a relationship and automatically assume that your lack of presence at certain events is because you are in a relationship. A lot of my friends stopped inviting me out or complained that they never saw me EVEN THOUGH I made an effort to see them at least twice a week. I am still me. I am still a separate person. I can go out alone. I can still help my single friends by being a “wingman”. I am still only a phone call away for those who need me. I am still me. Just because I now have a boyfriend doesn’t mean that will never leave my house without him or never leave my house in general.

To be honest it kind of hurts. Fuck it, to be honest it REALLY hurts. Yes I am aware that I haven’t been going to the bar every night but that’s because of the reasons above but please still invite me out. I may be able to! I hear about all these dinners and nights out and when I ask why I wasn’t invited the reply usually is “Oh, I didn’t think you’d come.” Ok, can we all agree that NO ONE CAN ATTEND EVERY EVENT THEY ARE INVITED TO? What’s even more frustrating is when I try and invite people to stuff I’m going to they’re not interested…. then DON’T SAY THAT YOU NEVER SEE ME!

Geeeezz.

I am aware that this is a rant but I’m just so tired of being excluded while being told that I never come out. I’m sorry but my body is being weird and I just moved so we’re still sorting through things. We’ve been broke as shit so even if we wanted to go out sometimes it hasn’t been an option.

Tomorrow we’re going to ikea to get a table, chairs, a couch, a dresser, a desk, a bookshelf, and a few other necessities so expect invites for dinner and a movie.

I’m sorry I’ve been absent, but I promise it’s not just cause I’m with a boy!!! And also life happens yo! Le monies suck!

So there.

Slacker Envy

2009-07-08T18:10:00.000-07:00

I’ve always been envious of those that discover their passion at a young age. It gives them decades to refine their talents and when I discover their work I kinda get the “What’s the point?” attitude because they’re far more advanced and I feel as thought I’d never catch up. Methinks a majority of it depends on if they were encouraged to create. I could never focus on just one thing so my parents didn’t really support my talents because they figured I’d quit after I got bored. Unfortunately they were correct many a time. I get bored so very quickly (hrmmm could it be because I have ADHD? lol) and my lack of self discipline doesn’t help. My fiddle has been practically SCREAMING at me to pick it up and play. I never feel that I have enough time anymore.

Yes, I know, I know. I need to MAKE time. Hmph. Baby steps… baby steps.

Anyway, the catalyst for my self admonition:

I’ve know about this artist for awhile and I want to share her work because it is absolutely amazing. I have never been in to porcelain dolls. I never saw the point of owning something you couldn’t touch. After discovering this woman’s website I finally understand. To buy one of her dolls is to own a piece of beauty. Her name is Marina Bychkova. She was born in South-West Siberia and migrated to Canada when she was 14. This girl started making dolls at the age of 11 (paper and fabric) and was selling them to her classmates when she was 12.

Yeah. Who feels like a slacker?

Her website is: The Enchanted Doll. She focuses on the seedy underbellies of fairytales. Example-She has a doll whose name is Necrophilia. Guess which fairytale character she represents? Snow White. For some weird reason it never really registered that when the Prince kissed Snow White SHE WAS DEAD.

A collective "ewwwwwwww" please?

Here are some of my favorites:

You NEED to visit her website and check out her other dolls. Another amazing thing is SHE photographs them. Hopefully I won’t get in trouble for having some of these photos up as I DO NOT OWN THEM. I only want to show how beautiful her creations are.

She hand paints them, moulds them, designs and makes the clothing/ jewelry that they wear, and pretty much has dedicated her LIFE to doing this. I need to discover/refine a talent. I’ve got to have at least one… right?? I wish I could just concentrate on one passion…. le meh.

Yeah yeah, I know I KNOW. Baby steps.

hmph

Fuck Fuzio

2009-07-06T16:00:00.000-07:00

I have discovered that Fuzio is place I shall never return to as my stomach wants to punch the face of whoever was in charge of cooking my meal. J, B, S and I went there for dinner last night and when I returned home I was reintroduced to the fetal position and popped tums like they were M&M’s.

Sad

Panda

Because of my indigestion/food poisoning/angry elves kicking the shit out of my stomach, I missed a goodbye party for two English ladies I had become acquainted with who are returning to London.

Sad

Panda

Also, apparently I was too eager in nourishing myself today with deciding to eat a pickle. This must have cause a riot with the elves because my stomach proceeded to yell at me and is now sending threats of re-familiarizing me with my partially digested lunch.

Not fun.

So, the discovery of the day is: Fuck Fuzio. And to them I say:

But all is not lost for my Fourth was spent watching the finest of SF's amateur fireworks from a beautiful rooftop view. Though for a bit M, S and I were convinced the world was ending due to the amount of screaming and sirens that surrounded us.

Good times, good times.

A Taste… er View of the Future!

2009-06-29T13:48:00.000-07:00

Absent from my own blog again? Pffffffffffffft, nevvvvvvvver. *loosens collar nervously*

Anyway! Onword ho to new stuff and new things. Ze format of zis blog vill be changing a bit. I will try my damnedest to actually keep it updated at least 3 times a week (my new laptop will aide in this endeavor) and it shall actually be about stuff and things that I discover.

*GASP*

I know, how very surprising. So, here is the first taste of it. Oh, and sidenote. I do hope I do not get sued as I will be putting stuff from other sites on here… BUT THEY WILL GET CREDIT! Also, for future reference, I am a broke ass ho. Glad we cleared that up.

Ok, ze new discovery! Well… I kinda discovered this like 2 months ago but I’m trying to make up for lost time.

(212): i want you now
(916): you need to stop dating girls with the same name as your mother...or stop drinking so much...I don't want to see this

(404): Can I crash on your couch? I just came home to find my wife giving two guys blowjobs.
(1-404): Two?
(404): Two.

(818): I'm upset that MJ died and all but waking up to his face on my HDTV in the middle of the night while half-asleep is pretty much the scariest fucking thing ever.

(402): I was high as a kite when I got pulled over by a cop and he asked me for my ID and if I had been smoking weed, I said no and gave him my debit card.

(715): Apparently at one point I was wearing my sweatshirt backwards like it was normal and then I threw up into the hood. Never drinking again.

(310): hey what are you doing
(310): hooking up with some marlborough girl. shes gorgeous!
(310): i texted you because i like you, and i told my freinds you were my fiance. but sine we're not dating you're not cheating and i'm pathetic

(540): Note to self. Never fart in a tanning bed

This wonderful little gems are from a fantastic site called www.textsfromlastnight.com If you’re bored or feeling bad about your life, just go the site, read, and you shall discover that your life isn’t nearly as bad as you think. Or at least they will make you giggle. It’s kinda like the drunk version of www.bash.org which is another radtastic site that you should check out. Here are some quotes from IRC (if that doesn’t prove my geekness I don’t know what does…) Samples:

Donut[AFK]> HEY EURAKARTE
Donut[AFK]> INSULT
Eurakarte> RETORT
Donut[AFK]> COUNTER-RETORT
Eurakarte> QUESTIONING OF SEXUAL PREFERENCE
Donut[AFK]> SUGGESTION TO SHUT THE FUCK UP
Eurakarte> NOTATION THAT YOU CREATE A VACUUM
Donut[AFK]> RIPOSTE
Donut[AFK]> ADDON RIPOSTE
Eurakarte> COUNTER-RIPOSTE
Donut[AFK]> COUNTER-COUNTER RIPOSTE
Eurakarte> NONSENSICAL STATEMENT INVOLVING PLANKTON
Miles_Prower> RESPONSE TO RANDOM STATEMENT AND THREAT TO BAN OPPOSING SIDES
Eurakarte> WORDS OF PRAISE FOR FISHFOOD
Miles_Prower> ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND ACCEPTENCE OF TERMS

Zybl0re> get up
Zybl0re> get on up
Zybl0re> get up
Zybl0re> get on up
phxl|paper> and DANCE
* nmp3bot dances :D-<
* nmp3bot dances :D|-<
* nmp3bot dances :D/-<
[SA]HatfulOfHollow> i'm going to become rich and famous after i invent a device that allows you to stab people in the face over the internet

t0rbad> so there i was in this hallway right
BlackAdder> i believe i speak for all of us when i say...
BlackAdder> WRONG BTICH
BlackAdder> IM SICK OF YOU
BlackAdder> AND YOUR LAME STORIES
BlackAdder> NOBODY HERE THINKS YOURE FUNNY
BlackAdder> NOBODY HERE WANTS TO HEAR YOUR STORIES
BlackAdder> IN FACT
BlackAdder> IF YOU DIED RIGHT NOW
BlackAdder> I DON"T THINK NOBODY WOULD CARE
BlackAdder> SO WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THAT FAG
*** t0rbad sets mode: +b BlackAdder*!*@*.*
*** BlackAdder has been kicked my t0rbad ( )
t0rbad> so there i was in this hallway right
CRCError> right
heartless> Right.
r3v> right

lol. Hopefully this provided a discovery of new entertainment and lead to a gaggle of giggles.

WOOT!

Long Ago

2009-04-23T16:33:00.000-07:00

I wrote this stuff a long time ago but never showed anyone because they were so personal. But while in MN a lot of synapses a fired at once and now...

Fuck it. It's how I feel/felt. Time to express it.

Some of these are/were songs so they can be a bit rhymey but who cares.

Feedback would be kewl.

Where did you come from?
And just when I was ready
Where did you go?

The tree beside you was dipping
Trying to take your soul
I fell deep in to this story
Of a land from long ago

Oh
Where did you come from
and just when I was ready
Where did you go?

In my scared silence I'll sing to you with hollow bones
My heart has naught to offer 'cept a reflection of thine own
I wander aimlessly down this path of false hope
With a marred smile twisted on my lips
My face now only knows one expression
For the rest are too vulnerable to bare
It's hard to cry when a salt has dammed the ducts
The disdain in your eyes has made this clear
I am nothing to you, and never was.

Dark shades of blue
remind me that I am nothing, nothing to you
tears fill my brim
they cry, you are nothing, nothing to him
So I long for the black
For it sings, you're not, you're not coming back
Because when a heart shatters, only time can heal
But when the spirit goes there's not time to spare

Hollow boy, where did you get those eyes?
I must admit, it took me by surprise
that you remembered, you remembered my name
I thought, well I believed
that I was just another broken doll for you to leave
See I thought, no I believed
that i could fill you, I could fill you with my love
silly me, silly me to think that was enough
But now you're back, you're back to take some more
well I'm sorry to disappoint, and I'm sorry to bore
But there is nothing, nothing for you to take anymore
See now I'm hollow, I'm hollow with only songs
to remind me, to remind me of what is gone.

Hello, ball and chain.
Good to know your back again
thanks for the memory
of a sad and weaker shade of me
It comforts me still
to know that I made my own living hell
Cause when you were in charge
of something that heavy
i realized that salvation was in me
Goodbye ball and chain
I'll wear your scars with pride
to show the world I didn't hide

Trapped in my own skin
entangled again
I don't know where to begin
to unweave the web I’m in

tick tock things and silken strings tie me to you, release my lever while I untie my tether and separate we shall go.

So yeah. From long ago but some what applies to now. *shuffles nervously* holy vulnerable I feel. lol

We're All In This Together

2009-04-01T17:58:00.000-07:00

Below is the language from a card that my friend Emily gave me for my birthday. She said it reminded her of something I’d write. I wholeheartedly agree and am pissed for not doing it first. Le sigh

According to Einstein, all things living and non-living are made of a mass, which we call matter, and the mass of a physical object and the energy it contains are, in fact, interchangeable along the formula E=MC². Which essentially concludes that matter is nothing more than a form of light, and that humans are, essentially the same thing as eels, rats, bears, chairs, dung or sashimi. On that note, it could be said that eels, rats, bears, chairs, dung, and sashimi should all have birthdays too.

Hey, we’re all in this together.

Le true, no? Now lets all hold hands and sing It's a Small World After All.

Just cause.

Update

2009-03-30T15:52:00.000-07:00

For those of you that follow my blog to read about how I'm dealing with being bipolar, I posted a new entry in The Discovery of the Mental Me (thats the blog I moved all my crazy posts to. lol)

For those of you that are reading because you want to giggle at my weird ass shenanigans, I'm sorry but I don't have it in me to really write fun stuff right now.

Ch-Ch-Changes

2009-03-06T11:49:00.001-08:00

So, I’ve been thinking (ha, that’s funny regarding this post) that perhaps this blog has been focused far too much on introspection. Since the name hints at external adventures and discoveries, methinks I will move all of my self shizzy to a new blog and only write about interesting occurrences on this one because I’d like to give people an example of my writing without the Debbie Downer theme song playing.

Soooo I’ll be moving my heavier posts over there and keeping my amusing ones here. So those that are following my mental journey, join me at The Discovery of the Mental Me. Those that want to see how I view the world and read about my random adventures and amusing observations (that could be the same thing as how I see the world…. whatever…. lol). I was going to create a website but.. I be a broke ass ho and blogger is free. So there.

One more so, I will be whoring the hell out of this blog to get my writing out there and the other one will prolly be more of a wallflower that you can poke if you’d like to see where my brain is at.

Yay for first steps, new adventures and new introspections. Join me on my journeys if you like. I assure you many will be interesting… or weird as hell… lol

Review - January 2009

2009-02-09T15:03:00.001-08:00

I've decided that I'm going to start doing a monthly review with my muni passes as my headers just for fun.

So, January .... yeah not the best month. Quite a rocky way to bring in the New Year as my purse was stolen and I have broken every one of my resolutions. I'm trying to not beat myself up over that but what can I say, I'm a masochist. But I do believe that a few good things came out of the month.

I definitely improved my level of patience as I probably racked up about 8 hours of time on the phone with t-mobile trying to get my phone, get my phone to work, exchanging my phone because the camera wouldn't work and changing my plan.
I had my first fiddle lesson and discovered that it will also help with my patience as I start in 4/4 time and then speed it up to... whatever comes after that.
Had some mental breakthroughs which led me to face some not so pleasant things that occurred in my past. I am now on the road to accepting them, retraining my brain to not follow the path of pessimism and trying to deal with my body issues.
I learned to let go of my ideas of who people were and actually allowed myself to see who they really are.
Allowed myself to breakdown in front of someone and let them see me cry... after I eventually pulled the hood of my sweatshirt down lol.
I am becoming more comfortable with singing my own words and I try not to mimic the artists that I usually like to sing along with and just keep my own tone.
Started school and so far no mental breakdowns lol.
Did not have one panic or anxiety attack.
I am beginning to understand what a normal "high" and "low" are.
I am trying to breakdown the many walls and barriers I've put up. It's a slow process as I am doing it one brick at a time but I'm trying and that's all that matters.
I am determined to stay focused at work. I'm doing much better than I used to but I still need to improve that.
I began to force myself to look into a mirror and not cringe or focus on traits that I dislike.
I've begun to cook at home and bring my leftovers to work.
I'm beginning to set small goals for myself and not flog myself if I don't fulfill them. Rather, I try and focus more on fulfilling the same goal instead of just giving up all together.

Hrmm. That's all I can think of for now but I think that's a pretty good list. I know this post is a little late as it's February 9th (it's going to be a full moon people, prepare for madness) but I'll try and update at the end of the month from now on.

So yeah. There's my review. The end.

Possibly TMI or Possible Giggles - You Have Been Warned

2009-01-28T12:32:00.000-08:00

Okeydoke folks this may repulse you but it also may make you giggle. I'm really, really hoping for the latter. This post has been on my mind for some time but I feel the need to actually write it out due to my annoyance level rising because my Google phone does not work yet. AH HA.

Bathroom Etiquette - common sense, no?

Well, not in my building. Boys, I will warn you when you may want to avert your eyes from a certain part of this post but it’s not that bad, and if you do, you are immediately placed into the category of LAME.

Ok, first off. When you walk in to a bathroom and you see that a door is completely closed and feet underneath the door CLEARLY indicating that someone is occupying that stall, do you push as hard as you can on the door? Simple answer = no, right? Not in my work building. I have had to tell woman “SOMEONE’S IN HERE” many a time. Stupid, yes? This has happened multiple times and I’m suspecting that it’s the same woman.

Secondly, when did people start claiming stalls? The women on my floor ALWAYS go into the same stall and indignantly huff when it’s occupied…. it’s a stall, with the same fricken layout as the one next to it. *Sidenote* There are only three stalls in our bathroom, one being a handicap stall.

Thirdly, am I the only one that gets uncomfortable when I am the only one in the bathroom and some sits in the stall right next to me? It’s especially weird when they release a sound similar to a cat clawing its way out of their ass. Due to the fact that I am sooooo mature, I have to stifle my giggles due to the unwritten rule that girls must NEVER make noise in the bathroom. Even I get all weird about it when someone walks in and clamp up while silently cursing the woman for just being there. ESPECIALLY if they only came in to 1 Fix their hair and make up, while humming. 2. Brush their teeth 3 Shake the world with their defecation or 4. Wash dishes. As soon as they leave, the meows begin again.

Fourthly, has anyone ever heard of a fucking COURTESY FLUSH? I mean, seriously. Walking in to the bog of eternal stench is not fun. Not fun at all. Also, don’t you hate it when it already smells when you walk in, then someone else walks in and you wish you could proclaim “That wretched stench IS NOT FROM ME!” Especially when you both end up washing your hands at the sink, at the same time. Or if the foul odor is indeed from you, the urge to lie silently jumps up your throat.

Fifthly, flush.the.fucking.toliet. SERIOUSLY WTF? We have those automatic flushers on our la trines which sucks because before you even still down the damn thing flushes, yet, when you stand up… nothing. But, if you use your wondrous powers of observation, you’ll notice there is a little button that you can press that will make the porcelain contraption cleanse itself. But do the women on my floor do that? Nope.

Sixthly (boys avert your eyes). We had a “little problem” with someone leaving remnants of Aunt Flow on the toilet… then it spread to the floor, then the wall. Our building managers actually had to step in and put signs all over the bathroom letting Bloody Mary know that she had to cut that shit out asap. How fucked is that? That’s like… goatse fucked up. If you don’t know what that is, you are not a true geek. BUT DON’T LOOK IT UP BECAUSE IT WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE FOREVER AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY.

Seventh, if your toilet liner falls on the floor, pick the fucking thing UP. It was your arse that touched is so why are you scared to touch it once more? Seriously?

Eighth, WHY OH WHY does the janitor decide to clean the bathroom 2 seconds after I enter it? Feeling rushed to pee is never fun. Or if your ass is meowing, it’s embarrassing to leave the bathroom knowing that they will know that you had garlic the night before.

These are a few peeves that I’ve conjured up but I’m sure there are more. But I do believe this is good for the moment. So yeah…. have a good day and enjoy your bathroom experience. Or buy some air freshener so that you can 1 breath 2 use it as a weapon when a woman is trying to break in to your stall.

That is all.

lol

Leaving Flighty in the Cage

2009-01-21T12:30:00.000-08:00

Yo.

I know I’ve been M.I.A for a week or so but I’ve been trying to gather the things that I lost. I’m finally getting a phone on Friday, I made new copies of my keys, I’ve been to the DMV (shudder) to get a new license and have yet to receive my atm card (grrrrrr). However, I did receive my new credit card so woo woo for that! After saying that, there is a certain someone that will probably feel guilt wash over them. STOP IT!!!!!!!!!! *smack*

Anyway, onward ho to the title of this blog - Leaving Flighty in the Cage.

Flighty
1. Given to capricious or unstable behavior.
2. Characterized by irresponsible or silly behavior.
2. Easily excited; skittish.

This was me to a tee; hence the eventually unraveling of my sanity. I lived in a vicious loop of realizing these incredible epiphanies and losing them the very next day. Instability was my bread and butter. Everything I deduce now has been bouncing around in my head for ages. My good friend Troy can vouch for that. I have always been very aware of my flaws, always. Or at least, what I thought were flaws. But ever since I’ve sought help and started medication something new has happened.

I slowed down.

Everything in my head has slowed down. In the past I HAD to multi task to get anything done. Concentration was an elusive thing. People would marvel at my rapid fire tangents and become annoyed with my constant digressions. I would never re-read anything I wrote, I would never really go in depth about anything because I just couldn’t. My brain was moving too fast. I would breeze through books and skim the details on everything. Basically I knew a little bit about a lot of things. But that's all changed. Now, in order to concentrate I have to focus on only a few things at once. At first this scared the hell out of me. I thought rapid thinking was part of me, that other people loved that quality about me. I thought it made me, me. But really, a speedy brain hindered me in the most important way. I couldn’t remember my realizations on life because they would get caught in my undertow and I’d move on to something else.

I can’t describe how wonderful it is to think at a slower pace. As I am adjusting to my meds, I am unearthing my buried epiphanies and forcing myself to really FEEL past hurts in order to move on; I found the real me. I found the girl that doesn’t need to put on a show to try and please people. I found the girl that didn’t have to start conversations with a self deprecating comment in order to propell it. I can still make people laugh just as hard with out acting like a tard (YAY! A rhyme!) on purpose. I am eccentric but I don’t have to worry if what I say is too odd because fuck it, it’s me. I am a nerd, a geek, a dork and I revel in it.

Some people believe that I’ve always been like this. But what they never realized was when I was alone in my room, I’d go over EVERYTHING I said and beat myself up if I said a stupid comment or worry that people didn’t like me and just kept me around as amusement; to ridicule me after I left. I used my silly behavior as a shield. I spent an irresponsible amount of money on other people and I usually would have no money to put into savings or spend on myself. I felt like I had to make up for this hole in me, that if they really knew me they’d leave. Hence the constant stream of thoughts; it was a distraction. Now that I’ve slowed down I remember and employ the things I’ve always known.

I have always been incredibly aware of what’s going on around me but now it’s also turned inward. I have become more self aware then ever before, but now it is a more whole self awareness. I no longer only recognize my flaws; I try and fix them. I finally recognize the bits of me that are pretty amazing. I recognize that I am strong, that I am genuinely good person even if I don’t constantly put others before myself, that some part of me is beautiful and amazing because why else would people say it if it wasn’t true? I don’t have to hide any part of myself anymore because if someone doesn’t like me, they’ll tell me. I refuse to constantly wonder if people like me. It’s exhausting and now that my thoughts are no longer racing, my brain is all “Dude let me introduce you to logic. I think you two will become the best of friends.”

An example of that happened today. I did something that I had never done before. There was an attractive guy walking down the street and I held eye contact with him and smiled. He smiled back. I used to be so incredibly skittish around guys that I couldn’t even LOOK at them. But fuck it. A guy wouldn’t ask me out if he didn’t like me. If he doesn’t like me, big deal - that just means we’re not well suited. It doesn’t mean that I’m lacking something. I may not have the traits he wants but that doesn’t mean I need to acquire them in order for ALL guys to like me. I can smile at a guy; it’s just a fricken smile. It’s not like when they pass they’ll sneer at me and scream “DON’T LOOK AT ME.” Well… at least the sane ones won’t. lol I may still be skittish for awhile, but I'm getting better and that's all that matters. The past is something I can't change and something I won't cling to anymore.

I have stepped out of the cage I placed myself in. Bye flighty and bars. Streching my wings feels pretty damn good and I have no intention of ever locking myself up again.

I know I’ve written about these subjects before but its part of making myself remember. It’s part of the retraining of my brain. It doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks I’m awesome, because I know I am. WOOOT! lol

\(^o^)/

It's the Little Things

2009-01-13T13:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, so, there is this place near I work that offers a free lunch to anyone that can guess the weight of their container (its buffet style but awesomer). I usually NEVER guess but today I thought “What the hell?”. A random number popped in my head - 1.21 and instead of over-analyzing it I just went with it.

Holy medusa’s nipples I was RIGHT!

So I received a free lunch!

BOO-YA!

I know this sounds lame BUT I think I’m on my way to actually trusting my first instinct rather than freaking out and not trusting myself. It could also be the universe’s way of saying “Uhhh yeah, so about Saturday… sorry…” lol.

It’s the little things that make me smile and matter the most to me because it seems that most people don’t stop to appreciate them.

BOO-YA!

That is all.

What I Think

2009-01-12T00:28:00.000-08:00

Ok, first off I will warn you: this post is prompted by a dramedy. But you know what, I really don't give a shit. To all those that scoff at the idea of some fluffy story is stupid because it wasn't written by a dead author or a “great” writer: you're narrow minded. Everyone interprets things differently. Something you read and love I may hate. Something I love you may hate.

That's life.

I appreciate EVERY story. No matter how bad, how cheesy. It's a piece of someone that they've put out. This applies even to the stories I don't like, whether they be movies or books. It's still something that was created from someone's mind. But people are moved and love different things and yeah, this super cheesy movie actually clicked some light bulbs on for me.

Ok. So here goes. The movie was P.S I Love You. Yes, it's that movie with Hilary Swank and Gerald Butler.

Moving on.

There will be spoilers and stuff BUT anyone who's watched the trailer knows that Gerald Butler's character dies almost immediately. The movie is about his widow (Hilary Swank) and the letters she receives from him after he's dead. The letters encourage her to move on, to let go, but softly. From what the movie shows, they were in love. LOVE love. The kind that I thought only movies show. The kind that makes me bitter, the kind I say will never happen but secretly hope it will. It also focuses on moving on. Something I am really, really not good at. A good friend said something very true and I refused to acknowledge for a long time. She said that perhaps I'm unhappy and expect the worse is because that's comfortable. I only know how to accept the bad because I did for a very long time so it's the first thing I look for, the first thing I understand.

It's true.

It's my comfort zone. It's easy for me to think other people don't like me. That they secretly hate me because in the past it's happened. But that's just it, it's the past right; I can't change it. Take last night for example. My purse got stolen. If that's my biggest trouble.... I am really fucking lucky. So I lost some money, a phone and some other really trivial shit. Whooppppdeeedo. It's in the past, why dwell on it? I can't change it, I can't constantly blame myself or be angry at the person who took it because it happened. It's done. No shoulda, woulda, couldas can bring it back. Anyway, that isn't what this post is about. It's about being alone. In the end, after she receives that last letter, she breaks down and comes to terms with the fact that he is gone, but she also realizes that she's alone, but not alone. In the end, we're all alone, so we're all together on that. Yes, you will love someone, yes you will have friends. But they can't complete you; that's impossible. The only person that can take an action is yourself. People can encourage you but they can't force you to do something for yourself. That's a step that you alone have to take.

To me that's daunting.

I realize that in that way, I am very similar to my mother. I never want to take an action on my own, no action without direction because I need something to fall back on. I need a reason why it failed. I think that's why it's so hard for me to play the guitar or sing. If I do it badly, it's on me no one else. It takes practice. I can't read any directions that will magically and automatically make me good. I can learn it, but I have to LEARN it. Some one can help me but in the end I am the one that has the power to become good at it. I have to be the one to step out of my comfort zone, no one can drag me out of it. In the movie, most of his letters were about encouraging her to live and follow her dreams. That she can do that without him because it's all in her.

I have loved, I have lost that love therefore I'll find something else. As for my mom. That's tricky. I think... no, I know that she affects me because I am looking for that source of comfort that we all look for as a child; when we are still unable to be completely alone. But as we get older, we need to find it in ourselves. I can't hate her because I don't love myself or because I can not comfort myself. Yes, she may not have taught me how to do that BUT it's something that I still have to learn. It's not something she can just throw in me. I have to learn it. I have to learn a lot of things and that's fine. I keep thinking that it's too late because I feel that so many other people already have that knowledge, that I'm so behind... oh look, I'm looking for an excuse; a set of directions to follow so I can blame something for my lack of knowledge but I can't because I can STILL learn it.

When I was first diagnosed I thought I could blame a majority of my actions on being bipolar and yes some of the things I do I really can't control. But there are a lot of things that I can control and can't blame on the disorder. I can change the way I think. As I've said before, the medication does NOT alter how you think, rather, it subdues the way you feel so that instead of emotion taking over, logic can. So that when I want to scratch myself, when I want to smash a mirror, when I look longingly at a bridge or rushing cars, my emotions aren't the first thing I act on, because they are temporary; they do not last. But logic does. It's what makes us eat, work, laugh, create. Yes, emotions help in creativity but if you rely on them you'll never really be able to finish anything as they are temporary. Unless you start a project and only return to it when you feel a certain emotion. But that would take years to complete and would you ever feel that it's whole because that emotion will never end, so how can anything based on that be finished? Right now, the thing I really feel I can create are stories and my stories change with how I feel. I can never just write a complete story in one mood because when I go back and edit it I'm all “whooooooooooooooooa Heather, that's a bit heavy and makes no sense”.

I refused to accept that anything was wrong with me because I am constantly looking to others for how I live my life. I thought that maybe I was just doing it wrong so I would punish myself. I seek approval from almost everyone else before I take a step. Hence why I am terrified of people not liking me. I'm scared that I'll do something wrong... lol but how can I? It's my life. It ridiculous because I do this even down to the music I listen to. I have over 40 gigs of music but never listen to the old music because I feel that I need something new, I need to be caught up with everyone on the latest thing.

Pffffffffffffffft.

No, I don't know record labels, no, I don't know directors, no I can't tell you about all the technical aspects of music and movies. I can only tell you about how I feel about them, the story I get out of them because that's what I do. I feel. I usually feel too much but I know have meds that help that. Lol.

So yeah, call this movie horrid, call it an abomination but fuck it. I liked it. I got something out of it.

Isn't that all that matters? Yeah, it is.

MOTHERFUCKINGCUNTBAG aka My Purse Was Stolen

2009-01-11T03:27:00.000-08:00

Hello everyone. It's 3:26 AM on a fuckatacular Sunday.

My purse was stolen about 2 and a half hours ago.

How much do I hate thieves?

I would like to cut open their stomachs, pull their intestines out and boil them while the victim is alive and make them tell me everything they've ever done wrong; Goonies style.

I

Fucking

Hate

Thieving

Cunt

Bags.

Yeah so my weekend has been fannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnntastic. GREAT JUST FUCKING GREAT!

What is now gone:

Phone (account now suspended as someone called from my phone right after it was stolen)

Keys (they know where I live and have my keys.... greatttttttttt)

Wallet (3 credit cards now canceled, insurance cards, dr's cards, student id, muni card, 300$ worth of gift cards, my license ... etc)

Makeup (ehhhh, don't really care about that)

Notebook with all my passwords and notes (MOTHERFUCK)

Purse (ehhh 7$ from goodwill, whatevs)

Pipe (for... tobacco....)

Meds (I hope they take all my klonopin and drink so they can die)

40+$ (all the money I had until the 14th.... ah ha...)

K. I'm going to bed and going to wake up to continue the cancellation shizzy.

ALSO: To those who are blaming themselves. It's MY FAULT I was the one that handed it to someone else to take care of, I should have just kept it. STOP SAYING I'M SORRY!!!!!!!

*hug*

It could be worse. No one got shot and not mothers where injured.

NIGHT!

MOTHERFUCKINGTHIEVINGCUNTBAGS

oh yeah, one more thing, MY MP3 PLAYER WAS IN THERE.....WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Because it Seems Quite a Few People are in Need of a Giggle

2009-01-08T09:43:00.001-08:00

*Yo! These pictures DO NOT BELONG TO ME. They belong to http://icanhascheezburger.com/

I just love them and want to make people laugh. Please don't sue me as I am a broke ass ho. Thank you*

Lol I'm sure the lady I put this up for will at least smile... I hope....

How true is this?

Because would that be fricken AWESOME if that happened?

Sigh, sad but true.

I feel this whenever anyone points out my misuse of commas or words. Shhhhhh I am well aware of my tragic grammar.
*edited for Xantraun, because he is a buttswisher.

Because I laughed so hard at this my boss had to come out and investigate and ended up laughing just as hard.

Because Prop 8 is bullshit.

Well, I hope at least some of you snickered or giggled just a bit! Happy Thursday!

Say Goodbye to 2000 HATE!

2009-01-01T16:46:00.000-08:00

So I have a whole bunch of ideas for blogs but I really wanted to write the obligatory end of the year blog.

This really has been the year of 2000 hate for me. I have hated myself more this year, done more damaging things to myself and let others stomp all over me than ever before. Because of this I refuse to make the following promise empty:

It's shan't happen again.

Por Que?

I am forcing myself to type that I am awesome. Because gosh darn it, people like me. Lol
I am starting to realize that I can do whatever I want. Yes I know that sounds strange but I never really went outside the lines I was drawn into until now. And let me just say.... the free space, the gray area is FUCKING AWESOME!!!! Terrifying, but amazing!
I am applying my philosophy on dancing to the rest of the world : Who the fuck cares? Everyone dances differently. Just like everyone LIVES differently. I will not waste anymore time longing for a different life, instead, I'm going to do the logical thing and change my own life. WOOOO
I shall manage my money better so that I can travel and collect the experiences I want.
I am going to figure what I'm going to school for and study abroad.

And blahity blah, more resolutions. I'm not going to type them all out. I'm just going to DO them. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I'll be writing a far more interesting blog in the next couple of days but for now, sit back, chillax and wave goodbye to another year while hugging the new year in.

2009 SHALL BE FANTASTICAL.

It shall, it shall. And you'll be reading why. HA!

Happy New Year peeps!

Also, what song could be better than this one to bring in the new year? ;)

Portland

2008-12-06T11:19:00.000-08:00

Yo.

I just wanted to let everyone know that I haven't gone off the deep end and did something stupid. I am in Portland right now and I must say I haven't felt like this in a long time. I feel like me, Heather, once more. It's kind of amazing. I will post pics of my adventures when I come back.

And fyi, I was totally licked by a stripper....an incredibly hot stripper.. Before I came up here I had never gone to a strip club. It was not even close to what I thought it would be. It wasn't sleezy in the least and what these woman do is more like naked gymnastics. Plus they are super sweet. So yeah, many adventures have been had and I have way more to go!

WOO WOO!

In My Head - This Says it Better Than I Can

2008-12-01T17:10:00.001-08:00

Don't mind the video, it's the song that matters.

This song is also drifting in and out of my head.

Unexpected Adventures

2008-11-29T16:45:00.000-08:00

Okeydoke, first off I'm ok, I've just been out and about and haven't really been at a computer to sit and write. My upped meds have definitely kicked in and I feel “normal”. Sorry if I concerned anyone I just haven't really been able to sort out my thoughts into words. Last night I did something that cements my overall wellbeing. I went on a date with a guy I only met once. I know this doesn't sound like a big deal but ohhhhhh man was it lol. I usually get incredibly anxious and psych myself out before the date and am incredibly jittery and tense while on the date. Thanks to half of a little magical pill my attitude was pretty much “Whatev's, this will be an adventure”. I actually had a lot of fun. He's quite sweet, but not like any other fellow I've ever dated. I usually go for the skinny nerdy hipster type boys who all seem to be more than a little douchey or “emotionally unavailable” but are emotionally prepared to have sex...Lets just say that if this was a cheesy high school movie this fellow would be the quarterback and I'd be the quirky artsy girl. I met him during the marina bar crawl (I'm the girlthat people had to help up because I fell on my ass... a totally "awesome" candid moment to catch....) I did so:
1. I never expected a call
2. I was more than a little intoxicated by the time we made it to that bar so I honestly couldn't remember what he looked like
3. It's the marina....
He admitted that he wasn't really a big fan of the area but his friends live around there so he tagged along.

Now this sounds a bit “fluffy” to write but I can't describe how BIG of a step this is for me. As i stated previously usually before any date I hyperventilate, cry and insist that I can't do it, much to my friends dismay. It was amazing to just be relaxed, enjoy myself and most importantly I was MYSELF. I didn't put on a front, I didn't censer myself, I was just me and it was pretty rawsome. He said he'd call me today but so far no go, but I am relaxed enough to not really care. I'm not taking it personally. Just not the right chemistry. It's not because I'm a hag or overweight (which is what I think in my mind but my friends assure me that I'm not.... but now I'm beginning to believe them because I'm reaching the point where I just don't care.... or that could just be today, who knows about tomorrow...)

Anyway, so yeah. Life is just fricken weird. I think it's even weirder for those of us that are “wired differently”. People say that “tomorrow is a new day” but for us, it truly is. We really don't know what the next day will bring. Will we hate ourselves? Will we be happy? Will we be sad? Will we beg for the release of suicide? It can be exhausting and sometimes you feel totally and utterly hopeless but I've learned to hang on because the good is so very, very, very worth it. No matter how low you go, I promise you will get back up. Even if it feels like you've been low forever. Hell, read my entries, I'm proof of it. ;)

So a somewhat lame entry but a little update, a little fluff and a bit of a story.. kinda.. lol

Yo!

2008-11-23T01:50:00.000-08:00

Ok, let me just clarify something. I am drunk. Not in a “I need to escape reality” way. More like “it was a marina bar crawl night", This included blond wigs, douches, assholes, twits and cunts. But it was fun and worth it. I promised Mrs. Chelsea that I would post everyday and I'm sorry, for I am 2 hours late.And mister Pat; I am ok! Thanks for your concern and support! *hugs to both!*

So, once again, I am fine. I had a magical pill that made everything ok again. And now must sleep. Goodnight. I shall go into detail later about my adventures. Night y'all.

Update

2008-11-21T15:13:00.000-08:00

It’s ok now. It’s passed. In fact it’s hard to remember feeling like that at all. It’s so fucked up to go through something like that and then suddenly get chipper again and be like “Oh yeah, I’m fine, totally normal.” HA!

Meh.

Why do my brain and I have to fight? Why can’t we just get along?

*cue the Youngbloods song - Get Together*

I Can't Hide It. Should I Hide It?

2008-11-21T10:23:00.001-08:00

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. I can’t control my thoughts. I can’t control them at all. They’re racing, racing, racing. I forgot my pill, I forgot my pill that calms me down. I took my medication this morning but it’s not working. Why is it not working? I can’t type fast enough. I won’t let myself make typos.

12341231234123412341234

Is there a God? I broke down last night and was rocking back and forth like I used to. I was begging anyone to listen to me but I hid from my roommate. I always hide, always hide. I hide everything. I have to. No one can know. I forgot my pill. I forgot my pill. I can’t cry. Not here. Not at work. I can’t let my boss see me break down. No one can know, no one can know. But that doesn’t make sense does it? You know, you’re reading this. Why am I posting this? Am I doing it for attention? Is this all for attention? But why wouldn’t I know? Why would I be so confused? Why can’t I control my brain? Am I pretending? Have I gotten caught up in one of my characters? Have I lost myself? I don’t remember taking my pill out of my bag. I can type but why can’t I calm down? I can’t do this here. I can’t I can’t. Should I post this without typos? Should I post this at all? Why do I post anything? My ramblings are inane. What’s going on with my memory? Why can’t I remember anything? How can I correct my spelling? Why is this happening? What was my trigger? Is it because I read a book where the mother is loving and caring and there? Is that why? Is it my mother? Why is this happening now. I wish I had my pill, then this would stop. Oh god am I going crazy? I don’t want you to worry, I won’t do something stupid. I can’t. I’m strong enough I have to be strong enough. But if I was strong why would this happen? Is it all in my head? What’s normal? Does everyone go through this? Am I really bipolar? Are these just racing thoughts that I don’t want to control? Am I doing this on purpose? Is this normal? How could I be so stupid to take my pill out of my bag. Why does what anyone think matter? Why do I ping people? Why do I assume I know what they’re thinking? I feel like they’re judging me. Everyone is judging me. I’m ugly, they’re laughing at me. My hair, they’re laughing at me. Am I pretending I’m something I’m not? Is this fake? Last night I called my sister but she didn’t pick up, she never picks up. If I really am freaking out like this how can I type? Is it helping? Maybe. I don’t know, I don’t know. Why is this happening now? I was doing ok, I was doing ok. Am I faking it? Why wouldn’t I know, why wouldn’t I stop. Am I having an anxiety attack? Am I panicking? I don’t know, I don’t know. I promise I won’t do anything stupid. I won’t I won’t. Don’t call me I’ll cry. I can’t cry. I have to hide it. I have to hide it. Should I go home and get my pill? Will my boss be able to tell? I was late, so late. I couldn’t get out of bed. I am so disgusting. My throat is closing up. I need to breath I need to breath. Why won’t these thoughts stop? Is it because I’m a terrible person? How can I type? Is it fake, am I faking it? I don’t know. How could I be so stupid. Do I need a pill? Does it really work. I’m rocking back and forth. He isn’t here. Should I post this? Will people think I’m crazy? Is it to prove something? Is this real? Is this real? I think it’s stopping. I think it’s stopping. I think the voice stopped. Why am I not strong enough to stop it? Why am I so weak? I hide it, I hide everything. Maybe I’m tired of hiding. I’m filled to the brim and overflowing. I can’t stop it, I can’t stop it. Is this why I push people away? I can’t let them see me like this. Should I up my medication? Should I be on medication? Am I really bipolar or am I faking it? Does everyone have these moments? Why do I care what everyone thinks? I have to hide it I have to hide it. It’s not like I have it bad. My co-workers dad died yesterday. I have it easy I shouldn’t be like this. Am I begging for pity? Why am I freaking out when my life is ok? Why am I so selfish? I want to scratch my arms. I want to focus on something. I won’t I won’t. Then people will ask. I can’t hide it I can’t hide it. Why is this happening to me? I can’t cry, I can’t cry. Maybe if I let go this will stop. Not like let go of life. I can’t do that, I won’t do that. I mean let go and just let the thoughts race instead of fighting it. Or would that lead me to do something stupid? I can’t typo, I can’t typo. It’s coming in waves now. I calm down then it starts but less intense. Is it ending? Should I post this? Should I keep hiding it? Am I really hiding it or can everyone see? Does everyone pity me? Do they like me or are they being nice. I wish I had my pill. Does that make me weak? Am I weak? Why can’t I just stop this on my own? Is it all in my head? Am I just not strong enough? I think it’s done, I think it’s done. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. I can hide this. I have to. I have to. Should I post this? Would you think I’m mad? Am I mad? Should I let someone see what happens to me? Rhymes, I wish I could always speak in rhymes. They’re calming, there calming. If I post this, will it drive people away? Should I be honest? Will this ruin my chances of him ever liking me? Why does it matter? I shouldn’t ever be in a relationship. I can’t do it. I’m crazy. It wouldn’t be fair. Why does it matter, why does it matter? Don’t call me, I’ll cry. I can’t cry. Why do I want someone here? Do I? Can I let them see me like this? This happened once before in front of people but I had a pill. How the fuck could I forget my pill? Do I like feeling like this? Am I just a masochist? Do I do this because it’s familiar? Do I like it? Am I pretending I’m crazy? It’s like there’s a scared animal in my chest. Panicking in a cage. I feel it beating in on my chest. Let me out, let me out. Am I confining it? Should I let it out? Will I be free then? Can I be free? Will this ever stop? Is this forever? I. Can’t. Cry. I’m going to post this before I think about it too much. I can’t think about it too much. Am I mad? Should I re-read it? No no. You tell me, is this normal? Am I just weak? Am I just being dramatic? Am I looking for attention? I don’t mean to. I swear I don’t mean to. Do I? How can I write this then? How can I format it? Am I faking? I don’t know I don’t know. I’m shaking now. Should I post this? Am I looking for attention? Or do I want people to see? I'm sorry. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I have to be fine. I'm sorry. So sorry. Something is wrong. He’s here. Have to hide it.

The Forest of My Heart

2008-11-18T12:56:00.000-08:00

When I was a child I had a forest. Well… it was actually a rather small patch of land that had grown wild behind our house. It was a dense thicket of trees where the briers and brambles roamed free. All the trees had names because to me they were friends. There was the helicopter tree, the elbow tree the 3 sisters and so on. I would sit and talk to them and I’d pretend their creaks were a response. But the most amazing tree lay right at the start of my forest - the gateway tree. The roots of two trees became entwined and formed a pathway between the center of them. That was my tree. My father would joke that I was a sprite because I'd shimmy up the tree in a matter of seconds and stay there as long as possible, perched among the leaves.

I wasn’t allowed to go outside until someone in the house had woken up. My father would always find me sitting right by the door whenever he'd stumble into the kitchen to make coffee. As soon as he opened the door I would take off through the gateway tree and into my forest. The gateway tree was the door to my magical land that rivaled Terabithia. I’d usually be the first one there and my only two friends (keep in mind my “town” was about 4 blocks big…) Donald and Jimmy would trickle in later. It was the only place I ever felt safe. I would sit in a tree and watch the colors explode in the sky while the sun disappeared. My father's distinctive booming voice would signal the end of the day and the arrival of supper time. I'd scramble down from whatever tree I was in because he would only call 5 times and if I wasn't home after the 5th call, a spanking was sure to follow. While we ate my sister would usually wrinkle her nose and tell my I stink. Looking back I probably did as my mother would have to coax me into the shower. Most of the time I would turn the shower on and just sit on the toilet seat after wetting my hair and pretend I was in the showering. When I’d come out my mother would usually drag me back into the bathroom and demand that I strip and enter the bathtub. She’d sit on the toilet seat and check to make sure I was using shampoo and soap. I never wanted to shower because I loved the scent of the forest rubbed into my skin.

Then something happened that I’ll never forget as it marked the begining of a lesson I would learn over and over. One day I came outside and there were men standing by the my tree, chainsaws in hand. They were from the Lions club whose headquarters resided in the buillding next door which happened to be settled a good 15 feet from my tree. They claimed the tree was too close to the building and was old too old so it would fall soon and possibly damage it. so they inisted it was time to cut it down. I yelled and screamed demanding them to go away and leave my tree alone. My father had to drag me back inside. I stood by the window sobbing uncontrollably as they hacked into my tree. Suddenly the horrible grinding noise stopped and a stream of curses replaced it. The tree had broken the chainsaw. Apparently there used to be a fence near the tree while it was growing, the fence had embedded itself into the trunk of the tree. I prayed to whoever would hear me that they would go away.

They didn’t

Another man showed up with aother chainsaw and the noise began again. I was beyond crying and watched, hiccupping as one of the trees fell. They decided that the other one was far enough away so they stopped. When they had all left I ran to the tree and ran my hands over the rings whispering to it. The magic of it fled and from that moment on a bitter streak started. I used to vandalized the Lion’s Club building by carving into their doors and breaking windows. I would snarl at the men whenever they'd try and give me candy or would refuse to talk to them. I hated them for taking something away from me that was so dear. We moved out of that house when I was about 11 (I really don’t remember that time period at all as that was the time my mother left us). When I finally reached the age where I could drive, I’d visit my forest but it seemed so desolate. The current owners of the house had chopped more of the trees down and I would sit amidst the jagged stumps and cry. My forest was gone.

I’ve found a bit of a replacement in Muir Woods. But since I only have access to it for half a year (there’s a shuttle and I have no car) I don’t get to go nearly as much as I’d like. I did find a special place there. You follow a stream and it leads up through these rocks and BAM a little pond appears with a swing over it. It’s more than a little amazing. Pics of it can be found here.

Charles deLint (who is a brilliant author and one of my favs) writes about a place called your heart home or the forest of your heart. I know it’s strange but the forest that resides in my heart will always be that one. Its hard living in a city where I’m surrounded by trees but don’t have one to call my own. I can find plenty of magical places in the day time like this

but I miss creeping through the woods at night amidst the blues and purples that only the moon can entice out of the shadows. Since walking in the park at night isn’t the smartest idea I just stare out my window at our meager back yard and remember there was once a place I felt safe.

Attack of the Future Thanksgiving Meal!

2008-11-14T11:58:00.000-08:00

*dramatic sigh* Yes, I was attacked by wild turkeys.

Ok, ok so I was in a car but it was still a traumatic experience nonetheless. My friend Nomi and I went hiking at… um… some place that I don’t remember the name of and on our way back we decided to try a “new” route on the way back, aka we got lost. So we're meandering around on this giant fricken hill, staring at the weird houses that you park ON TOP OF and we round a bend and BAM a dude turkey and his harem were chilling in the middle of the road. Our only response at the time was “Holy fuck bubbles” and Nomi bouncing up down demanding I get my camera out. We slowly crept up on the flock and I oh-so casually rolled down my window and began my best pavarazzi impression.

Mister Turkey was not amused.

He gobbled at us quite menacingly and came right up to the window while, of course, we started squealing in fear and laughing hysterically. Cause you know, turkeys can totally peck through glass and the noise they make - you can’t help but giggle but also get a little scared. Mister Turkey then started to round up the lady turkeys conveying that he wanted them to jump on the roof of the house they were in front of (*note - we were so surprised to see them due to the incredibly populated area. We weren’t out in the middle of nowhere; we were on a giant hill covered with houses. Kinda like a sundae covered with sprinkles). One of the hens took a liking to me and came up to the window and was all like “Hey girl, what’s up?”. Methinks Mister Turkey got a little jealous and all but butted her ass out of the road. The following photos recap our terrifying event:

I got some pretty awesome shots of the trail we were hiking on (*note - I am not a photographer by any means. None of my photos are photoshopped in any way. I’d rather you see something like I see it and not enhanced). Though I think Nomi was ready to throttle me due to the fact I was stopping every five seconds to get a shot. Some of my rad shots (*I am becoming Notey McNoterson) if you click on the photos it should take you to my flickr page where more of them are - WOO WOO!):

All in all there was much discovery of stuff and things.

Do Not Say Hella Around Me if You Value Your Eyes

2008-11-11T15:58:00.000-08:00

*nervous laugh*

Ahem, so my posts have been a bit… “heavy” lately. For that I apologize. I’ve just been connecting a lot of dots and it helps to type them out rather than cramp my hand from trying to physically write as fast as my thoughts (HA HA HA HA HA… HAHAHAHAH *wipes tear from eye and becomes super serious* That won’t ever happen).

Anyway, onward ho to a nearly pointless tale of a misadventure!

Last night I visited my favorite bar, The House of Sheilds to keep my friend, who is the bartender, company. It’s usually pretty dead on Mondays so we jibber jabber and order pizza while she experiments with new drinks which I so selflessly guinea pig … <_<>_> But last night the energy was a bit "different" as it was our friend Chris’ birthday and he decided to bring the party to the bar.

I don’t think I’ve had to defend a bar stool so vigorously.

There were at least 30 people crammed into the bar and some very confused regulars that had to fight for their booths. Okay, I’m exaggerating a bit. It wasn’t like there was a choreographed knife fight/dance routine like in Westside Story. But that would be SUPER AWESOME if there was, as long as no one got hurt of course! Anyway, Chris is what one would call a “ladies man” and the number of innies definitely outweighed the outties. So there I was sipping my Chimay and greeting the few people I recognized when an interesting conversation over peppered with the words “like” and “hella” caught my attention as did the staggering amount of perfume that wafted near. Now, I’m not judging the particular group of woman that were standing behind me most of the night, I just found their conversations amusing in a totally not condescending way…

<_<>_>

Ok so maybe my brain was a little condescending. I COULDN’T HELP IT. I know that I am a really nice person. One could argue that I am too nice as I find myself in situations where I could be likened to a doormat. I give people an ample amount of chances because I know that sometimes life throws curve balls and a person’s first reaction isn’t necessarily a good one. But first off, there should be a limit as to how many sprays of perfume one is allowed. I don’t care how yummy you think a perfume is. PEOPLE NEED TO BREATHE! The same goes for cologne. Come on people! How is anyone going to approach you when their eyes water within three feet of you?? Also, the word hella seems to be my trigger for a psychotic episode in which I try and stab a person’s eye out with a toothpick. Yes I hate it that much…. Anyway I really dug one of their hair cuts so I told her so and asked her how she kept it so straight. Her reply caught me a bit off guard.

“I’m Asian.”

My first reaction probably wasn’t the best as I started laughing hysterically. She raised her eyebrow and politely laughed with me for a brief second and turned back to her friends. Ah ha. That wasn’t awkward at all. Right after that someone made the mistake of placing a tray overflowing with cookies directly in front of me. I’m proud to say it took at least five minutes until I greedily grabbed one and stuffed in my mouth in an oh so ladylike manner. I waited another five minutes to see if anyone else had noticed it. Being the casual cathy I am, I mimicked a felix that cat clock and swayed my eyes left to right as I slid my hand neath the plastic sheath and grabbed another. Then another. A man shimmied up beside me to order a drink and he too noticed the magical baked goods. He asked if he could have one and assuming (which I should know better to NOT do as it makes an ass out of u and me) he was with the party I granted him access to the peanut buttery goodness. I asked him how he knew Chris and he look at me blankly while proclaiming “I haven’t a bloody clue who Chris is”. Ah ha. We laughed and continued to pig out while he praised the “good food” in the states (he was from Scotland) and we discussed my future trip to the Isle of Man. I uh, haven’t set a date for that yet but IT SHALL HAPPEN!! Anywho we split the last cookie and he gave me his e-mail address and that was that. No, I’m not going to e-mail him. Instead I’m taking a trip to good vibrations so I can have a penis with no emotional turmoil.

ANYWAY, back to the conversation that started this whole thing (have I mentioned I digress… a lot. And I bleed tangents. Really…). The “I’m Asian” girl was explaining an apparently “traumatizing” event that occurred at Zeitgeist. Now, if you’ve never been to Zeitgeist it’s a rad bar that has an expansive back area where most of the people sit and it’s what one would call a “bike bar”. A lot of bike messengers and hardcore bicyclists come here (or at least they used to before the marina invaded the mission *shakes fist at sky*). Since it is outdoors, the ground is comprised of gravel and dirt which one would think is common sense. This woman was complaining (I should note that she possessed the kind of voice that makes your ass tighten and you immediately strive to distance yourself from it) that 1. The rocks scuffed up her new designer shoes and 2. The guy who calls out the food orders “humiliated” her because she didn’t get up to get her food right away. I would understand how one could be confused over the protocol at Zeitgiest but she willingly admitted it wasn’t her first time there… There is even a sign saying they will throw your food away if you do not claim it. I promptly snorted in to my 3rd (maybe 4th) Chimay, and I think they noticed. Out of the corner of my eye I believe I saw a scowl and a roll of the eye. The cloud of rank perfume disappeared and I could breathe again. The grating voice ebbed away and the chorus of hella’s blissfully stopped. By this time my roommates had joined me and we conversed about far more important things like non-alcoholic beer…

I’m sure she is a nice person and I’m crummy for some what judging her but… how many hella’s can one take? Seriously? The WORST is when the word heka is substituted. *shudder* WHY NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, WHY?

That is all.

How Very Anticlimactic

2008-11-03T00:45:00.000-08:00

Ok so a shit ton happened at my Halloween party but I'll rehash that in another post. I want to get these current introspections out before they're lost forever in the brier and bramble that is my brain.

A recent affair of mine ended with a half hug and a sheepish lament about how he wished I had come over the night before. I laughed and told him he had the option of texting me and I would have come over. He's moving away now and it's more than likely I won't see him anytime soon. It good that it ended because my head was getting a little fucked. Yet here I sit wishing for him to text me so we could see each other just one last time before he goes.

Lame.

The beginning of this year I was dating a nice fellow and things just seemed to get worse from there. We broke up around April and I jumped to another lily pad but quickly realized it would never bloom. But I still stayed on it bobbing to the currents and occasionally sinking. Then an even prettier lily pad popped up and actually WANTED me to jump to it. But as soon as I did it moved and every time I finally got on the damn thing it would slip away again. I am so over the push pull game. I will be the first to admit it's a game that I sometimes instigate but now that I recognize that I do it, I shall cease. I am aware that there are many people that want to keep their options open... but fuck, I'd like to FOR ONCE be the better option instead of a diving board. But then again, how can I even suggest that when I don't even believe that I'm worth it. hrmmm perhaps I am beginning to realize I am.

Ugh, I shouldn't even be THINKING about this kinda stuff. I have so many other things in my life I need to focus on. I think a large part of me is looking for a connection to someone. I'm not that connected to my family and I have very few friends that I can bring myself to depend upon. I never want to be a burden so if something is bothering me I usually write it in my journal or just face it alone. Part of me is reaching out for someone who actually wants to reach back. UGH. I should just focus on writing my stories and my job but my mind always wonders as soon as an attractive man walks by. I, of course, would never approach anyone because I'm too much of a coward and even if they approached me I'd be so horrendously awkward that they'd probably cut the conversation short as soon as I sputter a response to hello.

I think I'm just trying to find another thing to focus on and occupy my time so I really don't have to consider what I want. Which sounds demented I know. It gets exhausting to reassure myself EVERYDAY that i am worth something, or to train myself not to care what other people think. I just want a quick fix of infatuation. But it will always fizzle due to the little storm cloud that forms over my head whenever I do become besotted. I begin over-analyzing everything I do hoping that I won't offend them or won't turn them off. It's pathetic really. I need to just fucking let go and not care. I need to stop opening conversations with self deprecating comments and instead focus the conversation outward. The biggest thing I have to remember is the next time a lily pad floats by, I must to refuse to jump on it until I know that I'm worth more than just a fuck.

A Random Memory

2008-10-31T15:47:00.000-07:00

My fingertips trace your stories, trace your life. Nails pull a wandering mind back to the present with a sweet sharp sting. Lips fumble for silence while tongues challenge to evoke emotion. An indrawn breath leads to teeth on skin. I trace your bones and bite my lip as your eyes close.

Oh what a moment it was.

Sidenote About the Last Post (Enough)

2008-10-30T17:34:00.000-07:00

* sidenote - it has been brought to my attention that people think this blog is solely about one person. This is not true. It is about multiple people. She (I will no longer name names as it makes this person uncomfortable) was a good friend for a very long time. She was there for me when no one else was. What happened between us recently was built up over a couple of months. Perhaps we'll work things out. I would like that, but if we don't I will lament a great loss but move on. She and supposedly multiple people think I over reacted. I don't believe this to be true. If someone tells you something directly about how your actions offend them/make them feel bad you would most likely immediately change them. Also to bring up something like a mental illness vs a messy lifestyle is completely low and biased. If you are living in someone else's space, respecting it shouldn't have to be asked. I will stand by my reaction and I will stand by my decision. If you believe I over-reacted then that's on you. You are not me. I have one place in the world where I feel safe. There is a certain way I'd like to keep it. If that is something that can not be handled then tough, it's MY space. Other people’s opinions are just that, opinions. You have not seen the whole thing and you are not me. You do not know what it feels like to have absolutely no place to feel safe. For what I'm going through mentally... it's a fucking miracle that I am stubborn. Most of you who read this will not understand how hard it is for me on a day to day basis (I am not looking for pity, this is a fact) because I hide it. I hide it very well and I know that. Suicide is something I think about more than once a day, rather something I used to think about, as my current medication has stabilized me. Most of you would NEVER think that. I am realizing that I am strong because people diagnosed with Bipolar have the highest suicide rate. I refuse to give in. I will not let this illness win. So as for this whole debacle, remember what you hear is one side of the story. I know she has her own and I respect that. I understand her confusion, but I do not agree with it. I am trying to put my life back together after completely losing who I am. I can not spend my time explaining to people that what they do hurts me multiple times. If a friend told me that what I do hurts them I would immediately refrain from doing it. I shouldn't have to raise my voice more than once in my own defense. If you do not understand that... that's unfortunate. Let me know and I won't exert anymore effort to try and explain it and we can go our separate ways.

Enough

2008-10-27T11:28:00.000-07:00

I’ve always had trouble laying down boundaries. I’ve been tip toeing over everyone’s emotional cracks for so long I twirled my way into a corner while the ground underneath me splintered. I had no room for me. I allowed everyone else’s needs to get in the way of my own. My self confidence was so low I allowed the saddest of individuals to batter me around.

I have had enough.

I can say with aplomb that I am a good person. I am caring, I am giving, I am loyal, and I will try and be there for everyone. But I am tired of being taken advantage of. It takes A LOT to piss me off. Most of the time I am too lazy/laid back to stay angry at anyone. But recently a few people have backed me into a wall and the claws came out.

Respect.

A simple thing, yes? I respect you, you respect me. But when I go out of my way for someone, when I defend a person, when I put their needs before mine (which won’t happen again, I assure you) a little respect in return is small thing to ask for. But it got thrown right in my face. I mean almost literally. I was so stunned I didn’t know how to react. Finally anger permeated my blank brain and for once I stood up for myself. This feeling has stayed. If you don’t treat me with respect and refuse to treat me like a friend or take advantage of me:

Fuck, you.

For real. I’m done. I give LOTS of chances because I understand how sometimes life just prevents you from making the greatest decisions. But if I talk to you and let you know that you are disrespecting me and you continue with that behavior, don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out. I don’t need that in my life and I refuse to accept that shit anymore. I am going through some serious issues and the last thing I need is a “friend” pushing me over the edge. My backbone is stronger and it’s staying that way. I am tired of feeling bad if I raise my voice in my own defense. I’m not turning into a bitch, I’m just standing up for myself. I know that my attitude will shock and unmask the people that have been using me for awhile when I say “enough, I’m done”. I deserve more. If I lose “friends” because of this, then clearly they weren’t friends to begin with. Friendship, like any relationship is give and take. It’s all about compromise, not take, take, take then see ya.

So peeps, be prepared to hear the word “enough” leave me lips on more than one occasion. Because I’m tired but mainly because I deserve more and I’m finally staking my claim in it.

The Enigmatic Confidence Returns and Ramblings of Sunsets

2008-10-09T21:21:00.000-07:00

Self Confidence: “Ah.. hi!”

Me: “WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?”

SC: “Uh... I had stuff to do?”

Me: “For a fucking week?!?!?”

SC: “Language, language!”

Me: refrains from attacking

SC: nervously coughs “Well, I'm um... back and I'm sorry.... miss me?”

Me: roars and attacks

Yeah, so the little lead ball of doom melted away and I'm back to my quirky self. I'm also back to thinking “Ah geez, I'm not bipolar, these are just little mood swings... who needs medication?” Then I re-read my posts and am like... “ohhhhhh K so I have issues.”

The land inside my head is a little weird. Sigh

While walking home tonight the sunset reminded me of one of my most favorite things: curled up in someones arms, my face buried in their neck, eyes closed breathing in their scent. The best is when they're asleep and when you snuggle up to them and they unconsciously move their head to touch yours and tighten their arms. That place is so safe and warm. It reminds me of sunsets. The feeling that expands and tingles down your arms and the secret smile that folds your cheek. The colors remind me of it too. That's what I see when I'm cuddling. Oranges, reds, purples, yellows that fade to blue. It's strange. As I write this, there is no sense of longing because those moments are so lovely that when they happen I'm grateful for it and don't dare to associate any ill feelings with them. Those moments are kept just under my skin for future need. Even if the relationship has withered or been soured by time, those moments I still treasure. Those moments just are, just as I long to just be . To just feel in the moment and not have some long standing emotion or mood in the way.

Since I rarely sleep for long periods of time, I always end up watching the men sharing my bed (don't let the use of men in the plural form let you think it's been a whole lot lol). When they sleep it's so strange. Their features are neutral and that's when you really see them and not an emotion. When we're awake we unconsciously wear what we feel on our face and when we sleep we just are. Just to clarify – I am not a creepazoid that watches people sleep constantly, I just glance because some how it seems too private to really stare. Though I do admit that I wish I could draw their faces. There was one in particular I wanted to capture because he looks so different when awake. When awake his brow is usually furrowed and a frown usually marred his features, but when he was asleep, he looked so peaceful. I hope one day he can find that peace outside of the land of the sandman.

Sleep is so strange. I find such solace in it and it's so foreign for me to fear sleep. I say this because a couple of good friends of mine have horrific nightmares almost every night. While my dreams are nonsensical terror rarely enters them. MMmmm sleep. I've actually been falling asleep lately without the help of the magical little yellow pill. That could be because I was depressed but scoff technicalities shmecnicalities. The good news is I'm back to feeling some what good. Lets hope this stays for a bit.... or forever really.... lol

Fucktember

2008-09-30T16:46:00.000-07:00

Fucktember

Yes, this is no longer September, this is the month of Fucktember where everyone I know, including myself has been fucked over countless time. Lets start with my buddy Wes. First off he’s pretty much couch surfing. He does pay rent to live in a studio with another guy but is rarely there. He just lost his job and last night he was hit by a car. Yeah, awesome times. He’s ok btw…. at least as far as I know. Let’s move on to my buddy Heather. She moved to Portland a while back for a bartending job and found an awesome guy that she had to move in with because she didn’t have the money to pay rent because that awesome bartending job fired her within a month, so she lost her apartment but he now the awesome dude no longer wants to be with her. She came back to San Francisco and is currently living on my couch and last night all of her stuff was stolen from her boyfriend’s apartment. Ok now for my buddy Jaye. She moved out here mid august with the intention of moving in with me and getting her husband out here. Well, they’re getting a divorce and now she’s looking for a room and is currently living in my bed… with me. lol. So those are just some small fun examples of why September is officially Fucktember in my book.

I’ve also had a fair few of fuckups lately. But right now my mind is solely focused on the fact that I have a rx that’s being filled that could kill me. The chances are slim but I am still putting myself in the line of possible complications. And I want nothing more than to talk to someone that doesn’t exist: my mom.

I want to hear reassuring words and for her to say she’s proud of me for trying to get better. But that won’t happen. I’d like to hear my dad’s voice as well but I don’t know what to expect from him anymore. It would also be nice just to have a partner that was here to hold my hand. Cause I’m scared. Really, really scared. The what if’s are chasing me down and beating the shit out of me. I’m lucky to have the support system I do have but it would still be nice to go to bed with someone and just be able to cry on their shoulder and have them still love me even though I am fucking nuts. To not get scared away, to take my pushes as a challenge. But I know that I can’t have that right now. I need to learn about myself. I need to be responsible only for myself.

It’s just... hard.

A Story for You

2008-09-16T14:26:00.001-07:00

Ok, now before you read this story, understand that yes, it is long, that yes I am aware it is riddled with grammatical errors and needs work but fuck it, I want to post it anyway. If you dare to read it in it's entirety, let me know what you think.

Tara Twyler was of the opinion that her freckles looked like water stains. She was convinced that they just weren’t vibrant enough to be considered an actual freckle. She usually covered them with a thick layer of Ivory foundation but this morning a severe deadline at work had her on the train a good two hours earlier than normal and in order to not pass out at her desk, she decided to forgo any unneeded prep time. She was examining herself in the window of the train and after scrutinizing her freckles and rolling her eyes at the copper mess that was her hair, she noticed her right eye seemed more defined than her left eye. It was then she realized she had only put mascara on that one eye. She tried to remember what else may have forgotten to do but the only thing that came up hazy was if she had put deodorant under both arms. She remembered swiping underneath her left arm but a stubbed toe caused her to just move on to the next thing so she could make the train. She supposed it was her body’s way of balancing everything out and she snorted out loud at the thought.

An old woman who was already white knuckling her purse glared up at Tara while attempting to inch her narrow body further away from the seemingly crazy snorting girl. Tara ignored the urge to snort again and rolled her eyes fully aware that the person the woman should have been inching away from she was actually moving towards and he was having a full on conversation with a spray painted rock who's name apparently was Betty. Tara smiled and buried her head in her arm while muttering “Only in this city.” She sighed, tightened her grip on the muni pole and began mentally preparing herself for another Monday of work. She hoped she wouldn't be the only one on her team to be at work early and desperately hoped that Adam wasn't coming in early. Even thinking of his name had her blushing and her mental processes stammering. She had pining over him for a good three months now ever since he transferred in from the main office but had yet to speak more than one sentence to him. She sighed when she imagined his curly blond hair and somewhat geeky demeanor.

Tara had tried to come up with some creative conversation starters but whenever she got within four feet of him a strange feeling would come over her. It was almost like something was battling for control inside her head. She grew to understand to be wary of this feeling because it usually warned of a humiliating experience ahead. You see, Tara had an “issue” with her emotional and logical parts of her brain. The cause of all her trouble was the fact that they just didn’t get along. In fact, they had been feuding for her cognitive functions since an unfortunate incident involving Tara’s 7th grade crush, an ice skating rink, and a trip to the ER. Tara's emotional side thought it would be romantic to skate up to her crush all cute like and grab his hand while Tara's logical side pointed out that Tara didn’t know how to skate. The fight for control of her actions started and resulted in Tara's body literally fighting against itself and when she hit the ice face first her emotional side refused to relinquish control so she clawed her way to the horrified boy still intending to grab his hand. By the time logic finally regained control Tara had managed to drag herself across the rink and had the sense to grab his skate and scream “Help me.”

Ever since then any date she had been on usually ended with her breathing into a paper bag or running to the bathroom in order to orally expel the dinner that had just been paid for. Needless to say her love life was nonexistent.

A sudden horrid screeching of brakes, the muffled sounds of curses and an elbow to her ribs snapped Tara back to the present. More people crowded into the already cramped space and a flash of blond set Tara's heart racing. She counted to ten and convinced herself that the chances of Adam actually being on this particular train car was one and million.

“Hey! Hey Tara!”

Tara felt the blood drain from her face and frantically tried to find a way to hide.

“Tara! Hey! Excuse me.”

Adam was fighting against the crowd in order to come talk to her and she was frozen in fear. From some where in the back of her head emotion's surprised voice echoed

“Holy fuck, he’s talking to her!”

And logic answered “Astute observation genius.”

“Hey! Oh! Sorry!”

The foot that Adam had unfortunately stepped on belonged to the crotchety old lady and she was now glaring at Tara with an accusatory look on her face. Tara fought back the urge to start laughing hysterically and turned to meet Adam.

“Uh, hi.”

“Good morning!”

Adam's enthusiasm had logic thinking the boy must have be on drugs in order to be so chipper at this hour. Emotion was too busy fawning over Adam's boyish charm to realize that logic had taken control and was now forcing Tara to speak.

“What drugs did you take to make you so hyper this morning?”

Tara's eye twitched as she realized this just wasn't going to end well. Adam threw back his head and laughed.

“I usually go rock climbing in the morning so I'm a bit hyper by the time I get on the train. That and I've had about 4 cups of coffee.”

Tara's emotion attacked logic in order to gain control of the situation and while they fought Tara was on her own so the first thing that popped into to her head shot out of her mouth.

“I would kill for a cup of coffee. I mean.. not like really kill someone. That's bad... I mean I can't even kill a bug. It's the crunch that gets me. Then I always wonder if it has like a mate waiting for it at home or something...”

Tara stopped her rambling when she noticed one of Adam's brows arch. An awkward silence ensued. Adam cleared his throat, ran his hands through his hair and adjusted his glasses

“Yeah so this deadline is rough.”

Emotion and logic were duking it out to see who go to govern the next response so Tara was stuck with whatever words decided to fly out of her mouth again.

“Usually I like it rough. I mean... not like that! I would never say that to anyone that's above me at work.. I mean not “above me” like physically but like in the hierarchy that is our job.. cause you're like my boss so you're above me. In that way. I meant I like steep deadlines because they push everyone to be more creative.”

Adam's bemused expression took on the softer overtones of amused and he smiled.

“I know what you mean!”

As soon as that statement left his mouth three voices chimed together in an astonished “You do?”

Logic and emotion were baffled. Tara was near hyperventilation and hanging on his every word.

He noticed her astonished expression and continued.

“Well yeah. I mean I'm so lazy so I never get anything done even though I have all the time in the world. But when someone puts pressure on me thats when I produce some of my best stuff.”

Tara was enthralled but logic needed some clarification. So to Tara's horror another question slide past her lips without her control.

“What do you mean work? You just manage us don't you?”

Tara slapped a hand to her mouth to try and prevent anything else from escaping. Adam furrowed his brow at her and laughed again.

“I'm also freelance graphic designer. It doesn't pay the bills so rely on my “management skills” to bring home the bacon, or in my case 3-d software.”

Tara's logic immediately jumped to the conclusion that since he did graphic design he must be a bit of a geek and immediately she launched into geek talk.

“Really? What operating system do you use? I'm a fan of Linux myself but was a bit miffed that Redhat became Fedora so I switched to Suse but then Ubuntu came out and I've been using that ever since.”

Adam's face was blank and emotion wretched the controls out of logics proverbial hands and was trying to think of something witty to bounce back with but Tara had clamped her jaw shut and while her vocal chords were trying to follow emotions command the only noise emitting from her was steady “gghhhhh” that had the back of Tara's teeth vibrating like tuning forks.

Adam bent down and pat Tara on the back.

“Are you ok?”

Tara answered through her clenched teeth. “Super.”

Emotion decided to press the over rule button and Tara's jaw dropped open and a jumbled mess of words fell out.

“asdfnkalsdnf alsndfksadnfkln.”

Tara could feel tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She silently began pleading with what ever deity that popped into her head to please make this stop.

Now emotion and logic weren't alone in Tara's head but no one had interfered before but someone had had enough.

“OK! You two need to stop fighting and play nice because the cognitive functions are all spastic because they trying to keep the girl from wetting herself and throwing up at the same time. The poor girl is sputtering worse than a volkswagon Rabbit in a snowstorm so just let HER take control of her own damn actions and words otherwise you'll be visiting the colon for a very, very long time.

Logic and emotion had the sense to look perfectly placated and removed their hand from Tara's mental controls. They both took a step back and with their heads down they acknowledged their defeat. “Yes Mrs’ Common Sense.”

“Honestly, and the nether regions wonder why they’ve been so lonely lately.” Mrs Common sense marched up to mission control and switched it on to auto pilot.

“Do not make me come back over here!” With that Mrs. Common sense left mission control with random words trickling behind her as she marched down the hall and soon the only words left reverberating were “dumb” and “shits”.

Now that Tara had finally gained control of what she said she was handling herself just fine. Some of her responses were still more than a little spastic, but that was just Tara. Adam happened to like quirks so the next words out of his mouth nearly floored her.

“Do you want to get breakfast?”

Logic and emotions looked at each other, then looked at the control panel, then looked back at each other. Before either of them could dive in and take command Tara's voice rang through the air.

“I'd love to!”

Emotion and logic were stunned. She had never before answered with such ease and honesty. They sat down in defeat. Perhaps she really didn't need one or the other to control her so they both accepted their future duties would probably only involve a lot of advising..

Logic offered his white flag first. “Truce?”

Emotion got teary eyed and agreed. “Truce.”

As Tara and Adam got off downtown emotion couldn't help but notice how cute they were together.

“Say, logic, wouldn't it be quite if she grabbed his ha...”

“Don't even THINK about it!”

Thoughts?

Smatterings of Self Absorbed Musings

2008-09-09T17:46:00.000-07:00

So, as I stated once before I’d like this blog to be more about my external life than my mental. If you’ve read any of my entries you can pretty much roll your eyes at that statement.

*sigh*

Apparently I’m pretty self absorbed like most people that write a blog self absorbed. NOW WAIT! Before you freak out about that statement lets look up what the definition of self absorption is shall we? Lets go on an information adventure!!

self-absorbed
A adjective
1 self-absorbed, self-involved
absorbed in your own interests or thoughts etc

There, see?! It’s not a NEGATIVE term. It just means that I find my mental vomit amusing and hell, if you’re reading this, so do you…. cue Mister T’s “I pity the fool”.

HA!! *ducks smack for self deprecation comment*

I knoowwwwwwwww that I hide behind humor. Duh. It’s my coping mechanism, my defense mechanism and the key to my heart BUT I also know that sometimes it’s not so good. So, anyway on to the existential point of this post.

Look at a leaf. Any leaf. A maple leaf, an oak leaf. Any leaf from any where. Concentrate on the colors. At first glance you may think it’s just green like any other leaf but look CLOSER. You’ll find some yellow swirled in there or perhaps some orange.

Now, look at your skin. Look at the colors and the veins blended together to create your unique shade.

Dude, how can we NOT be self absorbed? Humans are fucking amazing. We created society, we’ve created arguments about how *we* created society. We’ve created Gods, Goddesses, worlds even. Yet whenever someone uses the term “self absorbed” we cringe and immediately try and focus on something external to prove that we can think about something other than ourselves.

Here’s my conundrum.

Why?

If you’re thinking about yourself or pondering how YOU think things through I really don’t think that’s a bad thing.

NOOOOOOW WAIT A SECOND. I’m not saying that constantly thinking about yourself is a good thing. Hell I know it’s a bad thing. That’s part of how I’ve crippled myself. I finally understand the term self conscious. I thought I did before but I really didn’t. I am so self conscious I am self absorbed. I am constantly thinking about how I am perceived. I am putting thoughts in other peoples heads. I am thinking of myself all. the. time.

Or, at least I *was*.

I’m getting better at smacking down that insolent voice that’s all snarky from the dark recesses of my brain cutting me down and making me sputter back comments while frantically trying to see if anything is wrong with me. Why does anyone cut themselves down? There are enough fucktards in the world that relish doing it for you.

Anyway - I believe that if you are trying to figure out how your brain works you deserve a pat on the back and a treat of some kind. You are doing something that not many people stop to do. Once you figure out how you work, you can start the fun task of thinking about how other people work. Now THERE’S a fascinating subject that will never, ever be explained.

“Other People”.

The only person we can ever truly know is ourselves sooooo peeps, I say lets listen to Apollo’s Oracle and start getting to know ourselves. I mean, technically we’re only following our own advice, yeah? And how old is this advice?

Let’s get crackalacking. WOO WOO.

Yes, I am aware the sense is lacking here in this smattering of words but hell, who knows maybe there is sense here, just not the kind you’re used to using….

OHHH OHHH I’M MAKING YOU THINK AREN’T I?

MUWHAHAHAHHAAHAH!

lol ;)

Invest In Steel Toed Boots

2008-08-13T11:08:00.000-07:00

I wish I could just plug my brain into the computer and my thoughts would stream out nice and neatly into the form of a post because it would make far more sense. I’ve written about 6 blogs that I haven’t posted because they’re all… depressing and I don’t want to depress anyone that reads this.

BUT

I am supposed to be writing this for me. This is kind of a “me” thing. But I share it in the sense that what I write is what I think and I’d like to share that with people because I may offer different view points OR my psychobabble could just be endlessly amusing. Either or at least I get it OUT of my head. I’m beginning to think of my brain as a swamp. Stuff gets stuck there and rots while thoughts become stagnate.

Honestly, I’m tired. So very tired of looking to other people to try and figure myself out. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I do. I envy hipsters and their lack of responsibility, I envy people that can sing freely, I envy people with style, I envy people who can just BE. I constantly compare myself to others in EVERY aspect of my life and I’m not really sure why. Perhaps it was because there is so much I was never taught via my parents. Maybe I’m just scared. I don’t want to stick out but I don’t want to blend in. I just want to be me and be ok with that. I want to figure out what I want and just fucking DO that. I want to find the elusive median so I stop bending over backwards for people that don’t deserve it and I want to make sure that I will always be up for compromise for the people that ARE worth it. So here are a few things I know that I want in no particular order:

- To get these jewelry ideas out. Create them, sell them, wear them, whatever - just get them out of my head. (Take a class in metal working)

- Sit down and write out the stories in my head and try typing them out from scratch to see which method works best for me.

- Write and sing the songs that I make up.

- Learn how to use GIMP and edit some photos and create things.

- Get a tripod and a better camera to take pictures with.

- Draw the faces I find fascinating.

- Travel across the US and Europe.

- Sing Karaoke with no fear. It’s just a song and it’s in fun, I need to get over it.

- Go shopping for more clothes and shoes that I will actually wear and get rid of EVERYTHING I don’t wear.

- Join the YMCA and take belly dancing classes and kick boxing.

- Get started on my tattoo.

- Read more nonfiction books.

- Go camping.

- Make sure and take 2 days out of the week that are just for me.

- Trust someone when they say “I love you.”

- Let someone in and be ok with the fact that I may get hurt.

- Make my own clothes.

- Pay attention at work OR find a job I some what enjoy.

- To stop settling.

- Tell people how I really feel. If they hurt me, tell them, don’t just swallow it and smile.

- Stop worrying about other people. It’s their life; I can’t make their decisions for them.

- To forgive my parents.

- To be ok with the fact that everything changes and not dwell on the shoulda, woulda and couldas.

- Buy a pair of “fuck me” shoes and ROCK them.

- To be a better friend.

- To learn when to shut. the. fuck. up.

- Stop interrupting people or assume what they’re going to say.

- Finish school.

- To understand that mistakes are good (aka when I play my guitar JUST KEEPING PLAYING DON’T STOP WHEN I FUCK UP)

- Change my laugh just a little bit because good god when it echoes it’s embarrassing.

- Accept the fact that I am spastic and awkward and that’s what makes me, me.

- To really believe that I am pretty cool and some what attractive.

- To be all romantic and mushy and kiss someone in the rain.

- To stop repeating myself and REMEMBER good tidbits I pick up or things I realize.

A strange list, but at least it’s a list so I can’t get all exasperated and bitchy and claim I don’t know what I want. Most of the time I know what I want, but I just don’t say it because I don’t want to tread on toes so I swallow it and train myself to forget or convince myself that it wasn’t really what I wanted anyway.

Fuck it; people can wear steel toed boots.

I won’t be a bitch and push what I want on other people cause I just don’t do that. But I have to train myself to believe that it’s ok to stand up for what I want, because who else will? No one else can get in my head and know so fuck, it’s all on me.

Le backbone. I grows it. And peace, I'll find it.

VIVA LA RESISTANCE

2008-07-22T22:24:00.000-07:00

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

VIVA LA RESISTANCE!!!

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... )

VIVA LA RESISTANCE!!!

Beware of my Shards Of Hate

2008-07-16T11:32:00.000-07:00

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…

AWEFUCKINGSOME.

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.

*sigh*

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.

POSITIVE HEATHER THINK POSITIVE.

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.

Right?

RIGHT?!

*sigh* 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.

That Damn R.E.M. Song May Be Correct

2008-06-26T12:03:00.001-07:00

So we've had a fuckton of fires here in California, terrible tornadoes across the Midwest, and fantastical flooding in my hometown. My sister sent some pics of Fort Atkinson, WI, which is about 40mins away from my hometown of Mukwonago.

Ok so see that little white bridge? Yeah usually it's about 10 (at least) feet ABOVE the water.

Those are BALCONIES ON THE SECOND FLOOR that the water is up to.

This is the view from about a block away from my sister's house. You can NEVER see the river from her house because the banks are so high. It usually just looks like the end of the street drops off into oblivion. Even when we had all that flooding a couple of years ago it wasn't this bad.

To say I'm concerned would be an understatement. Mother nature is pissed and personally I think she has every right to be. It's just unfortunate that so many people have to endure the wrath of thousands of years of not caring how we fuck up the ecosystem. I just wonder how the rest of this year is going to go...

Recovery

2008-06-24T17:00:00.000-07:00

So far 25 hasn't started too well. I've almost gotten hit by a car while riding my bike, I think I may have broken a bone in my hand and last night a sickening crunch of cartilage indicated I had damaged my nose. AGAIN! My party was... interesting to say the least lol. I know I fell short of my 3 blog a week goal last week but damn it, it was my birthday. So HA. Plus I haven't really felt like any of my thoughts are worth writing down lately. I'm kinda bobbing along. Tonight I am going to chill and enjoy some much needed "me" time and hopefully gather my thoughts.

Here is a pic that is stuck in my head right now:

With so many doorways and paths, how are we to choose which is the one that will make us happy?

*sigh*

Questions, questions and yet I'm the only one that can answer them.

Where's My Walker?

2008-06-19T15:03:00.000-07:00

lol! No, no, I'm not one of those people will freak out because they turned 25. If you couldn't already tell I never really need a reason to freak out I just do cause I'm suave like that. I don't feel old or anything like that. I do kinda wish I had my degree already or maybe my own apartment, or maybe owned a car or even a plant ...but this just means I get to have more goals. GO ME! So yeah. Hrmmm updates, updates. The text message debacle has been cleared up... kinda. lol. I love how the older I get, the more high school drama my life becomes. I didn't date in high school or really experience any of the drama that usually takes places in that time frame until after I already graduated. So here I am, 25 and terrfied of admiting my feelings.

ANYWAY!

Yesterday I had to go to the courthouse to report for Jury Duty. Can I just say hangover + Jury Duty = BAD DECISION. Not as bad as flying with a hangover, but close. I will admit that as bad as flying with a hangover is, it helps me get over my fear of flying because whenever there's turbulance I kinda hope that we will crash to the ground so that the person that is letting their child run all over the fucking plane can EXPLODE IN A BALL OF CRIMSON GLORY. But thats just me. Also, crimson glory would be a wonderful name for the period.

If that made you squirmy you need to grow up.

BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD! HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WOO WOO!
Also, since it's my birthday come join me at my magic picnic table!! WOO WOO

Thou Shalt Not Drunk While Text

2008-06-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

Yeah. We’ve allllll done it. You’re drinking in a bar with your friends and you start thinking about someone and you get this urge to text that someone. Maybe you’re horny, maybe you miss a friend, maybe your being over analytical and should put the fucking phone down. But do you? No, no, no. You keep on texting them and digging a hole that will eventually lead to China.

I have thought up an idea that will make MILLIONS. Bars should buy dozens of little spider monkeys and train them to steal people’s phones if they start texting people. The monkeys would then deliver them to the bartender or a designated monkey person and you would have to explain who you’re texting and why and if it’s something that will lead you to flog yourself the next morning the person can just call you a cab and you pick up your phone the next day. Yeah so basically I want to hold someone else responsible. I take it back; this is a bad plan…

sigh

If you couldn’t already tell I took it upon myself to add drama and discord to my already convoluted life. My foot is so far in my mouth, it’s coming out my ass. UGH!!! So there is this dude I am… seeing (?) and because of that question mark I decided to say that I wanted to end it because I was beginning to like him too much. DUMB DUMB DUMB. First of all doing it in a text is BEYOND lame. Second, now he knows that I really like him and I am now vulnerable. Thirdly I should have just TALKED to him. I, of course, sent a text backtracking this morning and I even called myself out on the backtracking but… GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. Holy shit, I just discovered a method of time traveling. It’s called alcohol and I mentally put myself back to high school. Gooooo me!

The logical voice in my head is sitting back with its arms crossed and shaking its head while the illogical voice is all “What?”

Well, one more blog and I reach my goal for the week… that’s good, right?

*crickets*

Meh. I know, it could be worse...

Anew

2008-06-12T10:38:00.000-07:00

Uh… hi Blog! I apologize for neglecting you… once again… but come on; with my track record is that really such a surprise?

*sigh*

So life. It’s a crazy experience that I’m analyzing away which is beyond the realm of acceptable. So I have decided to make a goal and attempt to keep it, which for any of those that know me- STOP LAUGHING. I am going to write in here at LEAST three times a week. That allows four days to slack so that should be enough for my hebetudinous ass (yes, that is a word I recently discovered and am damn proud to use. GO VOCABULARY).

I’ve always fancied myself a composer of stories. Not so much a writer as my literary mechanics can make the sturdiest of English teachers recoil in disgust. Mainly because I almost NEVER proof my work before I hand it in or deem it done. This is a skill I am s-l-o-w-l-y acquiring. To say I am impatient wouldn’t be quite right, but close. I need to get my idea/thoughts out immediately otherwise it recedes back in to the chaos that is my subconscious which is beyond infuriating. When I re-read it I end up editing it into a completely different story/subject. The same happens when I am trying to speak so I interrupt or change the subject which can be just a wee bit irritating to those I engage in conversation. It is a trait I am trying to eradicate, I assure you. But due to my forced lack of filter (aka thinking before I speak) it makes things a bit more complex. As mentioned earlier, I over analyze EVERYTHING but the subject in which I am constantly scrutinizing is myself. This leads to completely illogical problems and insecurities. When I try and ponder what I want to add to a verbal soiree my brain promptly trucks it to Alabama and fucks a pig.

No, really.

Any interesting fact or tidbit I want to contribute is immediately slapped down and I begin to dry heave words and phrases that really, really should have never left my mouth. It gets far, far worse when I am around a person I find attractive. Be it male or female, if I admire them my verbal skills dwindle down to the point where I utter “I get bloody noses”. No lie. That’s one of the first things I said to my ex.

Charming, no?

So I usually to attempt to put my analytical butcher aside and just own my awkwardness. Yeah I talk to trees and hate the noise rubber duckies make because they sound sad to me. Yes, I know a little bit about a lot of things but I find it hard to retain any in-depth knowledge of a subject I have studied at length. Yes I will probably interrupt you but I promise I will recognize that I did and try my damnedest to only do it once. Yes, candy bars are an appropriate way to start the day. On that note, yes I will eventually join the YMCA and stop bitching about my flabby ass. But, anyway, back to the interrupting portion of this nonsensical post. I am striving to stop this because I want people to know that listen. I really do. I love hearing people talk about where they come from or experiences they’ve… experienced (shhh I’m too lazy to use a thesaurus right now). They’re stories and that’s what I live for. Everyone and everything has a story and I’d love to know them all. I can’t promise I will remember them but I’d still like to hear them.

So, yeah. Three times a week of my mental vomit and fanatical musings. I can TASTE your eagerness. Also, I want to put a picture up I’ve taken in at least one of the posts because damn it I’m becoming proud of my pictures. I don’t alter them in photoshop or gimp but that’s something I am interested in learning. Once I karate chop my ass to inspire some motivation. Oh how I loathe the sloth in me. But HA HA! I shall slowly back the laziness out my ear this year for I shall be quarter of a century old soon and I’d like to be able to at least say OMG I COMPLETED A GOAL, ISN’T THAT AWESOME!

So baby steps. POST NUMBER ONE, OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG. And here’s my pic:

I took this when I was in Santa Cruz। I love the colors and I love sunsets sooooooooo BADDA BOOM BADA BANG. There you have it.

Rant.

2008-04-28T14:14:00.000-07:00

I think some indie bands are a sick twisted joke. The skinny malnourished boys croon about how lonely they are while eying the crowd for their next groupie. Then there’s always that naive girl that feels like the lyrics are talking to her, talking about her and she believes in fairy tales and happily ever after’s. She stumbles towards the stage, awe in her eyes with an open heart and the band’s eyes overlook her in search of the girls that act disinterested.

I just don’t get it. I have guy friends that also complain about how lonely they are, but when they get with a girl that actually shows interest, they freak out. WTF. You wanted someone…. you get someone and then you freak out. BUT, BUT if a girl act disinterested she’s a fucking goddess.

Explain!

Apparently, in this city, if you want someone, treat them like shit and they come panting back for more. How fucked in the head are people?

Humans are fucking WEIRD. Basically, as we grow up we're taught to be self reliant and all that shizzy yet there’s always that hint of “Oh you’ll find someone to spend your life with”. I just can’t deal anymore. It’s just bullshit. Who CARES if you find someone? Shouldn’t it be about your experiences in life seeing as how… it’s your life? I’m so tired of people bitching about how they’re lonely. I’m also tired of boys that build you up only to find that they just don’t have it in them to love.

Rad. Awesome. Then just tell me its sex and I’m good. Really. Why go on and on about how much you like a person and all that bullshit only to be emotionally unavailable? It’s such a waste of effort and time. If you’re just in to sex, awesome, I know where I stand.

No, this has not happened to me RECENTLY but it has happened to me. But a couple of dear friends have been jerked around enough to piss me off.

People can’t just be honest. I don’t get it. If you don’t like the person, FUCKING TELL THEM. If you do, then let them know.

But then again the boys that are usually jerks now became so due to a high maintenance cunt that cut off their balls and wore them in a jar around their skinny little neck. It turns into a vicious cycle of “I got fucked so I’m going to fuck someone over”. Yeah. Awesome logic.

It’s like cheating. If you don’t like the person that you’re with, break up with them. It’s that easy. Really. Just stop and think about it. If you’re tired of fucking the same person, let them know. It’s better then lying. I promise the pain of being dumped is so much easier to deal with then lies.

Ah rants. I’m just baffled at the lack of care people have while dealing with others. I’m also tired of the “lists”.

OH GOOD GOD THE LISTS!

“My perfect significant other is this tall, and this skinny, and has this color hair and blahity fucking blah”

Really? You’re really going to be that specific because all those physical requirements are that important. Really? You couldn’t love a girl that has blue eyes and blond hair? Really? Eye color is that important?

What about just TALKING to someone? Yes, I understand that there are certain physical attributes that a person may find attractive, but it is so hard to go outside of them?

*shakes fist*

I just don’t get it unfortunately. Perhaps I’ve become too jaded. Right now I view love as an experience I want nothing to do with. I hate being vulnerable. I hate it. I don’t know if I have it in me to open up like that. I’m not saying I’ll never fall in love again, that’s just silly. It’s just… while I help glue everyone’s heart back together mine becomes more hardened and reluctant to ever be seen without armor. I’ve seen so many battle wounds that I don’t remember what the reward was. Someone to cuddle with? Someone to laugh with? I can do that with my friends.

What was the point of loving again?

Murder and Chocolate Hearts

2008-02-14T16:44:00.000-08:00

Um wow. Soooo. A lot has changed since that last post. Too much too really update but I can try and sum up.

1. I stopped living inside my head.

2. I stopped constantly fretting about what people thought of me.

3. I got married, had 50 kids and started a baby farm where a genetic cow fought it’s way past my security system to plant a stick of dynamite in my oven so the farm blew up and when it did I discovered oil and am now a bazillionire.

HA! Lies. Well just that last one. But I do admit that I super suck for once again not updating a blog. BUT my few and probably not real readers, I have been posting blogs some where else. Some where else called myspace.

Don’t judge me. People actually comment there. SO HA!

Anyway.

Now I have always scoffed at this day because it’s based on a horribly over-dramatized story of a martyred catholic priest and I never could find the connection between murder and chocolate hearts. Well, I take that back. If you take away my chocolate, you could find yourself in a hole someone where, obeying my command of putting some lotion in a basket due to a threat of a hose. BUT really, I know the holiday is a sham and turns couples into this overly mushy, obnoxious plague to be avoided at all cost and sends single people into a spiral of doom and running towards the nearest bar. But, for once, I do not belong in either of these categories. Yes, I have a Valentine.

Absorb what typed there please, because it’s taking me a while as well.

Me. Spastic Sally. Has. A. Valentine.

Now this is a new thing so I don’t know if we’re a “we” (ha! irony we’re a we…ok nevermind) in a relationship sense but we’re not horribly mushy and while I’m big on chocolate, I rather DECREASE the size of my ass so none shall be given. Flowers are pretty buy I’ve never been a big fan of killing things because I still carry the guilt of killing my little bamboo plant (shhhhhhhhh I know it’s hard to kill bamboo but not all of us are gifted with a green thumb sooo stfu!) so I’d rather not watch something else wither and die. I also love trees and refuse to contribute to something as absurd as a card when I can just send an e-card for free.

But this whole fellow thing is quite new to me. I wasn’t looking for anyone. Honestly. It wasn’t that I had given up, I just stopped caring. That is in bold because I swear on all the chocolate hearts in the world that the SECOND you stop caring you send of this vibe to the opposite sex (or same sex, whatever your flavor) and their heads perk up, their eyes zoom in on you and some even may begin to fondle their genitals.

Hey, I ‘m just being honest.

Anyway

Yeah. Life. A strange a peculiar journey I am beginning to love more and more. The twists and turns sometimes leave me spinning, but quite honestly, I love it. How can you enjoy the sweet with out the bitter? A good cry is awfully therapeutic and laughing until you wet yourself is always a good story to open with when meeting someone new.

Or that could just be me.

But I am happy. SO HA! DOUBLE HA! TRIPLE HA! I’ve never been in this situation. Sure I’ve dated before and been in a long-term relationshit but… I’ve never been with someone who was this thoughtful. I’ve actually poked him quite hard in the chest which prompted a baffled grunt and a raised eyebrow. I just smiled but I was secretly thinking

“You just can’t be real so if you’re a delusion I’d rather stay lost in my mind cause this rules.”

Who ever said romance was dead? But yeah, to all you bitter betty’s and mushy molly’s: I do hope that you have a good day and revel in our cultures ability to turn murder into romance. Just look at Romeo and Juliet. If you think that story is romantic I will bitchslap the SHIT out of you. If you need to ask why…

Please, please re-read it and THINK about it. Well, this certainly isn’t my favorite post but hell, it’s something. If you want to read one about my boobs vs a book read my myspace one. It may make you laugh.

That is all. Carry on!

People that make me think (GOOD THING)

2007-07-16T13:32:00.000-07:00

So while wandering the twisted corridors of my mind I came across a memory of a person's words that made me think. In a good way. A productive way. In a-Heather-there’s-life-outside-your-fucking-head way. Obvious, no? I guess you could say I'm a bit of a dreamer. But believe it or not I used to be *very* closed. I never let anyone in for fear of getting hurt. But because of that I was pretty much brutalized by an event in my life that still makes me cringe to recall it. Because of that I became too open. My life story literally pours out of my mouth like verbal vomit when ever any one asks a simple question. Or at least it used to. I've learned to manage it a bit more but I still just lay everything out on the table, but I think I prefer it that way. I am not one for mind games. If I feel something, I'd rather say it.

But, of course, there is an exception to this: “liking” someone.

If some one likes me, and I don't return the feelings it is very hard for me to just come out and say it. I’d much rather disappear. Keep in mind this has only happened a handful amount of times BUT it happened. Also if I like someone… ohhhh brother. I turn in to a wreck.. As you can tell from my previous blogs, I am so very shy when it comes to this. I can talk to anyone about anything EXCEPT this. I am terrified of being that vulnerable. Rejection scares the shit out of me (in that sense). Why oh why do boys no longer approach females? If they do it’s usually not for a date it’s usually for “wham, bam, thank you mam”. I can’t do that. I feel far to much. Besides, sex is better when there is *some* type of emotion behind it. At least for me.

Anyway, back to people that make me think. I love them. Your mind can never grow if you don’t challenge it. It’s taken a bit but I now understand that when people challenge, it’s different than attacking. I used to get all uppity and sensitive now I just try and recall my facts (they tend to fly in and out of my brain with the fervor of a bat on speed) and hold my own.

Ah words. Sometimes they explode out of me. (for serious)

Yes, words explode out of me. I'll be sitting there, all unsuspecting like and then BAM! A random order of words comes to mind and I *must* right them down or else they'll slip back their homes in mind and will never again come together in the same order. Here's one I did copying down on a napkin and eventually transfer to a word doc:

Let me choose my shade from you
Deliciously dark black and memories of blue
Seemingly serpentine
Glowering over the illustrious sheen
That was once my love for you.

Cheesy? Perhaps. Dramatic? Definitely. But I happen to like it. These periods of explosive creativity have definitely waned. It used to happen at least once a day. But now I'm lucky if it occurs once a month. And it's killing me. I hate not being able to transfer my thoughts to paper or even type them out. It’s really been the only thing I did that helps release some of the madness in my mind.

I like to think of my mind like a library. If it get disorganized (which it is right now) I can not find a damn thing. Then things begin to pile up and finding anything becomes a chore and near impossible. This is what makes me shy. It frustrates me to no end that I can not recall key facts that will back up my story. Hell or even events that happen in a story I’m trying to tell. Then I get flustered and try and back pedal to try and remember just where the fuck I read said fact while the person I’m trying to debate with immediately thinks I’m making it up or knows nothing due to my sputtering and pauses. I wish I could remember even just a tiny bit of what I absorb. I will spend all day reading something and can’t recall a fucking thing. Grrrrrr. Ok well I believe this strange blurb shall be the blog for the day. I will try and write more on a daily basis if only for my sanity and maybe for those that come across it.

Also THINK OF ALL THE STORIES THAT HAVE BEEN LOST!!! - Tracking a Vanished Civilization

Rational vs irrational

2007-06-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I figure I’m divided in two (insert cheesy Gemini jokes here). The rational part of me and the irrational part (ie.: mess). Unfortunately the irrational has a firm hold on me as of late. So much so that fricken EYE CONTACT has become a chore. For example, a couple of months ago a guy in one of my classes tried to strike up a conversation with me while waiting for the bus. Not flirting or anything, just talking. For about 5 mins everything was going fantastically. No sputtering, no snorting, no hysterical giggles and none of me trying to ignore him for fear of… well I don’t know exactly I’m afraid of but it’s terrifying enough to have me running, literally. Because sadly, that’s what ended up happening.

I ran.

Yes, you’re reading correctly. I actually ran away from him. On to the bus, far in to the back while my rational and irrational parts of my brain were duking it out.

Rational: What the fuck was that?

Irrational: OMG OMG OMG he may sit back here. OMG OMG

Rational: So?

Irrational: Than I’d have to talk to him again.

Rational: And this is bad because……?

Irrational: Because!! What if I have something on my face? Or what if he secretly thinks I’m incredibly ugly and is silently making fun of me? OMG I can feel my rolls move every time we go over a bump!

Rational: You’re a fucking moron. Who cares what he thinks? As long as you’re happy nothing else matters. If you’re so concerned with you weight than why not DO something about it?

Irrational: I’m going to start jogging as soon as I get new running shoes!

Rational: Suuuuure. And than you’ll need new clothes, than another excuse and another. Just fucking do it!

Irrational: I will!

Rational: You haven’t yet and been bitching for years.

Irrational: Fuck you!

Rational: You do realize that you have no argument and are just extremely lazy right?

Irrational: *gives silent treatment*

Rational: I wish I could punch you in the face.

Yeah. So that’s my head. And guess what kiddies, it’s ALWAYS turned on. I KNOW that I’m acting completely absurd. I know that when I ignore a guy that is actually looking at me with interest, it’s my loss. Every time I try and even just *smile* at a guy that’s looking at me I feel like there’s a butterfly in my stomach with a AK47 and the voice which sounds astoundingly like my mouth turns on and any self assurance I had is floundering out the window. So I keep walking, head down, headphones on and my rational side just begging me to do SOMETHING. But no, I become shy and awkward and get down on myself. That may be the saddest thing of all. No one cares, but apparently the fact that I do outweighs the entire fucking world.

Why am I writing this here?

Well 2 selfish reasons really. 1. In case anyone else there feels like this and thinks they’re fucking nuts (which I do think I’m fucking nuts) you’re not alone. 2. To show people that YES I know what you’re about to say. “Heather who cares what anyone thinks?” I DON’T KNOW!!!! I’m trying to not care. Really. Than some one with incredible self confidence walks up and I’m ready to jump in to traffic just to get away from them.

Rational: Cue psycho music.

Quiet you!!

I am working on it. I am a work in progress. I DID go jogging last night and plan on trying to do it tomorrow morning. Yes I know that I need to learn self-discipline. I’m working on it.

One of these days my rational side is going to kick my irrational side to the curb, and it’s going to be fucking awesome.

ps. This is an old post I never put up. I shall be writing a new one by the end of this week. Don't give me that look, I've been busy.

Intro to Chaos

2007-05-15T14:33:00.000-07:00

Ok so this is not my first blog. No, no for I am the Queen of starting things and never finishing.

Don’t even try and argue that you are, in fact, the actual King or Queen of lack of follow through because well, it’s not exactly a title one should strive for. But since this is my blog I will give myself that title because it is sadly one of my many, and I will reign henceforth.

Also to prove my point - how many of you have actually started a blog, than forgot about it, than wrote in it once more to make sure the account still existed, than left it for another year only to find that your account had indeed been deleted. Yeah…ok so maybe a lot of you have but damn it enough about you for this is a blog dedicated to muah!

This is also a case and point of something I will probably write quite frequently about. Caring far too much of what other people think of me. I would love to say that everyone does it but unfortunately I have met the few that could really not give a flying fuck what anyone thought of them. They always seem to be followed around by this strange spineless mass of jelly quivering behind them… oh dear. That would be me.

If you recoiled while reading that last bit and thought “Dear God she’s mean to herself, no wonder she has no self-confidence” well yes. Exactly. I am my own bully. Although sometimes I am convinced it’s really my mother trying to control me mentally because she has some super power that I know nothing of… besides the fact that she can render even the most patient person into a shaking mass of rage while contemplating where to hide her body. Ah, I digress.

The blog. THIS blog. This will *hopefully* become some sort of solace. Yes, solace. I love to write and my internal dialogue loves to talk so I thought what the hell why not write it for the world to see…like every other blogger on the planet. This may be a bit different, but since I don’t read that many blogs, it may be exactly the same. I’m about to journey in to madness. And this blog will be about my wholehearted attempts to stop that. It will also include the slithy toves and borogoves of my mind.

Wait…madness?

Yes, madness. Another psychotic episode. Another what-the-fuck-is-she-doing-OMG-WTF-is-she-doing- someone-lock-her-in-her-room-before-she-runs-screaming-down-the street-again-episode. For you see I am beginning to lose the grasp on reality.

“Oh you’re just being dramatic.”

Yes, I am dramatic but how normal is talking to yourself in public and thinking you’re in a movie and that random bystanders have lines they’re supposed to say to you in order propel you forward? Or hallucinations of people that aren’t there and creatures that don’t exist or voices telling you that not only do you suck, but your ass looks like one of those stress-relief balls - squishy and always the same size no matter how much you squeeze it.

Don’t fret. I’m not the killer sort of crazy. The voices aren’t telling me to do anything to other people… yet (insert nervous laugh here). And my loving “friends” have told me to start asking for change.

But seriously, if all the world’s a stage, mine has become a fucked up drama with totally tasteless humor and a fantastical taste for the weird.

Today is a medium day. Ah, my scale. There’s highs, there’s lows and yes, least of all there’s the medium, the middle if you will. These days are few and far in between, Although, I am quite perky right now so in actuality it’s probably a high day. Yes, definitely high. I just went to get lunch and actually spoke to a boy with out 1. running away 2. spitting 3. snorting 4. and I ACTUALLY smiled.

Medusa’s nipples that’s out of character for me.

(Hey, think about it. If you saw Medusa, would you really look at her nipples? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Easy decision. Eyes = stone. Tits=wtf who knew they could have scales.)

YAY TANGENT.

You may be reading this (hooray if you got this far) and thinking. “This totally isn’t real”. And my question to you dear reader is:

Is any of it?