So, my life right now is consumed with the following factors; health, work, and Dezi. Here's how they're effecting me (as far as I can determine).
Health: I did see my doctor, and she is concerned about my blood pressure and the liklihood of me having PCOS (Polycystic ovarian syndrome). I have all the earmarks for PCOS, the only thing left to determine are my androgin levels, which the bloodtests will be for. I plan on dropping by kaiser tomorrow and giving them my blood. It has to be fasting labs, so no breakfast, and nothing to eat until I go in. I hope gum doesn't count. She'll also be checking my blood for my insulin levels (which will probably be high) and my cholestoral, and checking my thyroid (which has tested out to be lower than average in the past, but not freakishly low or anything). A lot of my health problems will be resolved if I can just stand to lose 10 or 15 pounds. That's a different can of worms. Also, the possibility of Intercystic Cytosis looms ahead of me. The test for it is pretty awful sounding...cathader. Injecting irritating fluids into my bladder? Um, no thanks. But if that's what they need to do...maybe that's what I'll have to do. I don't really relish the prospect.
Job: I am paranoid about my employers reading my blog for some reason. Nobody but family reads this really, but you know. Who knows. Let's just say that I don't know if I'm fired or not right now, and it's driving me a little crazy. My manager has asked me to "come in on Sunday after church and help him iron out some paperwork, he'll redo the schedule then". This in no way implies that I am ON that newly revised schedule, really. It COULD just as easily imply that we will be filling out paperwork for my termination. Which is, quite frankly, a bitch no matter how you look at it. I do get Saturday off, so I can spend the day getting blood taken from me at Kaiser. But Sunday could turn out to be a day where I stoke my fires of resolve to do well at this job, or it would be a day where I shake the dust from my sandles and move on to something new. Either way...you know. I'm nervous. I wish he would just tell me and get it over with, but being demanding with him hasn't exactly worked out in my favor so far.
Dezi: is my girlfriend. We spend a few days together each week, working around eachother's schedules. She is such good stress relief; I just feel like I can decompress when I'm around her, I don't have to pussyfoot around my problems, and she is so good and kind and giving. Yesterday I rushed to the hospital because she had narrowly escaped being flattened by a hit and run black suv while crossing an intersection (yes she had the crosswalk light!) and she tore something up in her knee. She now has the pleasure of hobbling around on crutches in a leg immobilizer for at least two weeks, and then she'll get an MRI to determine if she'll need surgery. Sucks to be her. She's pretty calm about the whole thing; she's really not given to hysterics like I am. The crutches and the immobilizer really suck, but people do treat us nicer when we're together, since her injury. And I look cool carrying two purses instead of one.
I'm really just up in knots over the work thing. I worked today and did my damnedest. I did a good job; everything my manager wanted me to do and more, I remembered what I needed to, I did my best as I've done every day of this job. If I get fired now I don't think I'll have to take time to rebuild my self-confidence like I needed to after the internship. I'm going to apply to wallgreens no matter what happens; it's decent money, and from how Stinna describes it, a good job that may be more nurturing to my sensetive artistic nature. Haha. But really.
It's hard for me not to let it get under my skin and I'm trying hard to not let it. It is just a job; and a short term, very intense and highly demanding one. So if I get fired...well, maybe I won't get a good refrence, but I STILL will have retail experience. And if I don't, my manager has still not gotten back to me on specific areas where he'd like to see me improve, and once I really understand those complaints I know I can rock this job like a hurricane, get it done, and get my recommendations.
SO. Um, pray for me.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
So....that sucks.
I had a heated discussion with my manager today. It's my day off (he gave me that) and I realized he had put me on the schedule for opening tomorrow, but I had scheduled a doctors appointment. Instead of assuming that I made the mistake (which DUH, it's almost always me, I should have realized that) I blamed him for changing the schedule. UGH I can't believe I was so bullheaded. I had managed to get another coworker to cover my morning shift and had notified him I was switching shifts with her. I just sent him a message appologizing and explaining that I got confused and said that it wouldn't happen again. Damn right it won't happen again. I hope I don't get fired over something as stupid as this. I like my job, and I just...I just forget things and I got confused and made the wrong call.
So yeah. That sucks.
So yeah. That sucks.
Monday, November 12, 2007
strange day.
My plans for today were church, Dani, and then a cool lecture thing with my dad.
I went to church with the rest of the fam that're in town. I had a hell of a time getting up this morning, and I felt CRAZY exhausted all morning. I managed to stay awake during mass by some miracle. Then instead of going to hang out with Dani (which I was already doubting I'd be able to stay awake for) we went straight from mass to the Clacamas mall...so I didn't have my cell, or my money. Whatever. I did get free food, and got to hang out with my sis and mom and dad...and sometimes that's not so bad. I also got to see where I'll be working next week, minus the set that's not set up yet. I have no idea how big the area really will be until I see the set all constructed.
Tomorrow/today will be my second day of work, closing again. It's rewarding, more or less, but I'm nervous because last shift (my first one) I got 1. taken advantage of by a bitchy customer and 2. got scared by a creeper. And that was just the first day. I hope things so smoothly, and I'm worried about my heart.
I've been getting chest pains, like stabbing pain. It doesn't seem to strike at any particular time, it's just like a STAB and then sometimes it happens again and again for a while. Sometimes it's just one and then it's done. When it happens I feel lightheaded and hot. I know my blood pressure has been high lately, but not dangerously so. I do need to see my doctor about it, but the last time it was bad was at work right before I got my first break (about 3 hours in). I just could barely breathe, and it really scared me. Mara said I should just get it checked out and to try and not worry about it.
I have a new girlfriend. We've been dating for a little less than a week, so things are still really...you know, figuring things out, testing if this is really going to be worth it. When I'm around her I'm still a little awkward feeling and that alone is what's keeping me from really feeling totally head over heels. I hate feel awkward more than anything else in the whole world. But when I'm around her, it's like everything is a bit better. I worry that I'm getting into another relationship like it was with Liz, where I never really let her be a full part of my life. At least I actually like her, I'm actually attracted to her. That's one up on Liz. Maybe it's just that when we talk, she reminds me of parts of myself that I don't really like or understand. Our conversations feel so...forced sometimes. I don't know how to make it go smoothly.
If we aren't talking, and are just together, and silent in eachother's arms...it's so good. There's no where else. We are the origin of everything when we're together, and if we aren't then that unoriginal thing can't possibly matter, comparatively. It's easier to breathe when I'm holding her hand. I feel as though I need to explain to her, somehow, how much more I value our silence than our conversation. I love kissing her of course. But there too, I value just BEING, just holding her hand and leaning on her shoulder. Feeling her arm draped over my shoulder or sitting on my knee. I feel like a freak. I just value our stillness over our activity...thinking about it all makes me feel a little anxious.
Today I began an art project for Christmas. I'm making teddy bears for my close friends. I began one for Teresa; body, head, eyes, one ear and the sewing for most of a foot is done. She hasn't called or myspaced me for several weeks now. I really am trying to be good. I know how she is, how happy she is with Chris. And I have this new thing with Dezi. But my brain doesn't seem to speak the same language as my stupid heart...and my stupid heart is still crazy about her. But I've been good. I haven't crossed any lines. I think it's funny...I had avoided seeing her face to face for almost four years, because I knew if I saw her it would only make my puppy love worse. I was wrong because NOT seeing her kept her idealized. At least then the reality of who she was and who she was with could shock me, could shake me. Now I have both those memories and the blinding reality. It's the same, the puppy love. Her beauty and kindness and adorableness just do me in completely. But...I know my limits, and I'm not into chasing the moon like that.
I think feel kind of lonely and anxious tonight. My feelings about Dezi and Teresa floating around in my head, my worries about work tomorrow and my health. I feel so restless. I want an easy truce. I want to really begin everything, and really end everything else - I feel like it's all loose ends. Everything. All I know is...I'm still treading water, even if it looks like progress.
And now I go back to the same sleep I had last night.
I went to church with the rest of the fam that're in town. I had a hell of a time getting up this morning, and I felt CRAZY exhausted all morning. I managed to stay awake during mass by some miracle. Then instead of going to hang out with Dani (which I was already doubting I'd be able to stay awake for) we went straight from mass to the Clacamas mall...so I didn't have my cell, or my money. Whatever. I did get free food, and got to hang out with my sis and mom and dad...and sometimes that's not so bad. I also got to see where I'll be working next week, minus the set that's not set up yet. I have no idea how big the area really will be until I see the set all constructed.
Tomorrow/today will be my second day of work, closing again. It's rewarding, more or less, but I'm nervous because last shift (my first one) I got 1. taken advantage of by a bitchy customer and 2. got scared by a creeper. And that was just the first day. I hope things so smoothly, and I'm worried about my heart.
I've been getting chest pains, like stabbing pain. It doesn't seem to strike at any particular time, it's just like a STAB and then sometimes it happens again and again for a while. Sometimes it's just one and then it's done. When it happens I feel lightheaded and hot. I know my blood pressure has been high lately, but not dangerously so. I do need to see my doctor about it, but the last time it was bad was at work right before I got my first break (about 3 hours in). I just could barely breathe, and it really scared me. Mara said I should just get it checked out and to try and not worry about it.
I have a new girlfriend. We've been dating for a little less than a week, so things are still really...you know, figuring things out, testing if this is really going to be worth it. When I'm around her I'm still a little awkward feeling and that alone is what's keeping me from really feeling totally head over heels. I hate feel awkward more than anything else in the whole world. But when I'm around her, it's like everything is a bit better. I worry that I'm getting into another relationship like it was with Liz, where I never really let her be a full part of my life. At least I actually like her, I'm actually attracted to her. That's one up on Liz. Maybe it's just that when we talk, she reminds me of parts of myself that I don't really like or understand. Our conversations feel so...forced sometimes. I don't know how to make it go smoothly.
If we aren't talking, and are just together, and silent in eachother's arms...it's so good. There's no where else. We are the origin of everything when we're together, and if we aren't then that unoriginal thing can't possibly matter, comparatively. It's easier to breathe when I'm holding her hand. I feel as though I need to explain to her, somehow, how much more I value our silence than our conversation. I love kissing her of course. But there too, I value just BEING, just holding her hand and leaning on her shoulder. Feeling her arm draped over my shoulder or sitting on my knee. I feel like a freak. I just value our stillness over our activity...thinking about it all makes me feel a little anxious.
Today I began an art project for Christmas. I'm making teddy bears for my close friends. I began one for Teresa; body, head, eyes, one ear and the sewing for most of a foot is done. She hasn't called or myspaced me for several weeks now. I really am trying to be good. I know how she is, how happy she is with Chris. And I have this new thing with Dezi. But my brain doesn't seem to speak the same language as my stupid heart...and my stupid heart is still crazy about her. But I've been good. I haven't crossed any lines. I think it's funny...I had avoided seeing her face to face for almost four years, because I knew if I saw her it would only make my puppy love worse. I was wrong because NOT seeing her kept her idealized. At least then the reality of who she was and who she was with could shock me, could shake me. Now I have both those memories and the blinding reality. It's the same, the puppy love. Her beauty and kindness and adorableness just do me in completely. But...I know my limits, and I'm not into chasing the moon like that.
I think feel kind of lonely and anxious tonight. My feelings about Dezi and Teresa floating around in my head, my worries about work tomorrow and my health. I feel so restless. I want an easy truce. I want to really begin everything, and really end everything else - I feel like it's all loose ends. Everything. All I know is...I'm still treading water, even if it looks like progress.
And now I go back to the same sleep I had last night.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
less like scars...
(Sara Groves)
it's been a hard year,
but i'm climbing out of the rubble.
these lessons are hard
healing changes are subtle
but every day
it's...
less like tearing, more like building
less like captive, more like willing
less like breakdown, more like surrender
less like haunting, more like
remember
and i feel you here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars, and more like
"character "
less like a prison, more like my room
it's less like a casket, more like a womb
less like dying, more like transcending
less like fear, less like an ending !
and i feel you here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars
just a little while ago
i couldn't feel the power or the hope
i couldn't cope, i couldn't feel a thing
just a little while back
i was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
you would come
and i need you
and i want you here
and i feel you
and i know you're here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars (x3)
and more like
"character"
......................
The first time I heard this song I was driving from St. Cloud to school in St. Joe. I was willing myself not to cry anymore, because I was sure I'd crash if the tears kept blinding me. I had cried a layer of salt onto my glasses until they were frosty.
I'd just been told that I was fired from my internship. I felt so broken. Like there was no way up from the blow, like the bottom had dropped out of my world, out of my hopes, out of my ability to process. I couldn't get my head above it. I had invested so much, emotionally, in that, and to lose it...worse, to lose it because of factors I didn't understand...I wasn't sure if I could ever be a viable "employee" to anyone ever again. My depression, my health, my laziness, and this loss. The whole mess had me down in its belly. And then this song came on the radio. I had to pull over, I just started sobbing. It was exactly what my heart was crying out for. It was like a hug from God!!!! I prayed that God would help me through this. I knew that I couldn't do it on my own this time. It wasn't in my hands anymore, because it was my hands who broke it so thoroughly.
Somehow, God (and I) made it through. I really didn't have much to do with it. In my turmoil, in the pain that I went through, I had my God and my friends and my teachers (those I was open and honest with) with me.
My life as a walk in the woods. There is a bright sun, and sometimes I walk through clearings, and sometimes I walk through dappled, filtered light, and sometimes full shadow. Times like now when I'm bathed in the sunlight...it's hard to believe I survive the darkness every time. When I'm in it, I can't recognize exactly how engulfing it was, how powerful it held me. It hurts to remember it too, I feel a kind of distant pity for the person I was at those times. Like it was someone else who lived then, someone I can't even recognize as "me".
Every time I hear that song, I feel blessed to be alive. That particular emotional scar, the loss of my internship, looks more like character every day.
it's been a hard year,
but i'm climbing out of the rubble.
these lessons are hard
healing changes are subtle
but every day
it's...
less like tearing, more like building
less like captive, more like willing
less like breakdown, more like surrender
less like haunting, more like
remember
and i feel you here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars, and more like
"character "
less like a prison, more like my room
it's less like a casket, more like a womb
less like dying, more like transcending
less like fear, less like an ending !
and i feel you here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars
just a little while ago
i couldn't feel the power or the hope
i couldn't cope, i couldn't feel a thing
just a little while back
i was desperate, broken, laid out, hoping
you would come
and i need you
and i want you here
and i feel you
and i know you're here
and you're picking up the pieces
forever faithful
it seemed out of my hands, a bad, bad situation
but you are able
and in your hands the pain and hurt
look less like scars (x3)
and more like
"character"
......................
The first time I heard this song I was driving from St. Cloud to school in St. Joe. I was willing myself not to cry anymore, because I was sure I'd crash if the tears kept blinding me. I had cried a layer of salt onto my glasses until they were frosty.
I'd just been told that I was fired from my internship. I felt so broken. Like there was no way up from the blow, like the bottom had dropped out of my world, out of my hopes, out of my ability to process. I couldn't get my head above it. I had invested so much, emotionally, in that, and to lose it...worse, to lose it because of factors I didn't understand...I wasn't sure if I could ever be a viable "employee" to anyone ever again. My depression, my health, my laziness, and this loss. The whole mess had me down in its belly. And then this song came on the radio. I had to pull over, I just started sobbing. It was exactly what my heart was crying out for. It was like a hug from God!!!! I prayed that God would help me through this. I knew that I couldn't do it on my own this time. It wasn't in my hands anymore, because it was my hands who broke it so thoroughly.
Somehow, God (and I) made it through. I really didn't have much to do with it. In my turmoil, in the pain that I went through, I had my God and my friends and my teachers (those I was open and honest with) with me.
My life as a walk in the woods. There is a bright sun, and sometimes I walk through clearings, and sometimes I walk through dappled, filtered light, and sometimes full shadow. Times like now when I'm bathed in the sunlight...it's hard to believe I survive the darkness every time. When I'm in it, I can't recognize exactly how engulfing it was, how powerful it held me. It hurts to remember it too, I feel a kind of distant pity for the person I was at those times. Like it was someone else who lived then, someone I can't even recognize as "me".
Every time I hear that song, I feel blessed to be alive. That particular emotional scar, the loss of my internship, looks more like character every day.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
my obsessions
When I was a child, I discovered art the way most kids do. Mom and dad give their kid some crayons or crayola markers (I still love those markers) and kid goes to town. Well, it was then that I started my life of serial obsessions. It seems to have something to do with how I learn. If I become interested in one thing, I get...well, obsessed, and feel like I should try to learn as much as I possibly can. Often I do this until I find something new to consume me, or because I stop myself because it's unhealthy.
Art, however, is perennial for me. It's less a hobby than a language. It is a way to communicate knowledge, imply meaning through forms. It is a subtle thing, and no matter how hard I try, I may be too heavy handed to ever touch the kind of delicacy or passion some masterworkers create. But in my own way, I think I understand what I am doing with my art, and the directions I want to pursue. Art is awesome because I can only get better at it. It's self-motivating. And what's more, it is as natural as breathing - I will see a thing in real life or just in my head, and until it gets on paper the damned thing won't leave me be. Artist's block has happened to me and I can't say how infuriating it is, but even then, I CAN create art...it's just technical practice though. It doesn't say anything.
Anyway, this was all written to kind of talk about fish. I started getting obsessed with fish at the beginning of highschool, if I remember. I had had a fish or two before that, but I hadn't thought it was worth the time. You can't pet fish. But then, in college I wasn't allowed to keep any pets that were petable (besides plants, and I kept and named those too!) so I bought my first bowl, and my first fish. I don't remember if it was a betta or a goldfish, but it was probably a goldfish, and I probably killed it some stupid way. The internet told me that goldfish could live a very long time if the owner just learned all the tricks...water ph, airation, filtration, slime coat, stress, temperature, food. I figured out that fish are like little animal bonsai. It is a matter of micromanaging the environment of the fish, and to an extent the fish itself, in order to make it's life as good and long as possible. And as heartbreaking as it was when any of my fish died (and of course, they all do die eventually. Everything does. C'est la vie) I would learn more about how to keep other fish alive better in the future.
So now I have three bettas. Once, there were four. Gem died two weeks ago or so, and he had always been a sickly fish - I never expected him to live even a month after I bought him. I always thought there was something wrong inside of him. But in any case, there are now three; sushi, maranara, and alfredo.
Sushi is sick - he's floating, nose to the sky/vertically on the surface, and moving very little. He stopped eating about a week ago, and the last time I fed him he nudged his food but it was as though he was blind and he couldn't coordinate to get at the food. I feel so horribly bad for him. I doubt he'll survive the night. He would surely not survive any attempts for me to save him now, like a partial water change, etc. This is the end for sushi, and if he's not dead in the morning, I'll likely flush him just so I don't have to watch him suffer any longer. He was a crazy fish from the time I got him - easily the most aggressive beta I've seen in a cup. Also, a pretty ugly looking fish, as he was clearly a fry bred from a "red white and blue" beta, which have these striped kind of fins...but sushi just got washed out whites, purples, and greys. I loved him, in my way, and I'll miss him. I wish so much there were something I could do to make him better. He has live about a year and a half, and ideally they can live up to five years.
I dream about my fish. I dream I am saving them from death - somehow they've leapt from their bowls and I must put them back in, usually. Or I dream that they have died, and are floating, milky eyed and motionless, smelling horribly of dead fish. I hate these dreams. I hope, by processing some of my feelings about fish, that I won't have one like that tonight about my sushi. I hope the souls of all the fish I have killed forgive me my fumbling attempts to keep them alive.
I've decided, after my two remaining betas, to not keep any pet fish again. It's not that I don't appreciate the knowledge I've gained, or enjoy the company of fish. It's just so depressing when they die, because it is 7 times out of 10 my fault - didn't change the water enough or fed too much or something similar. For sushi it could be any of these.
I want a cat, or a dog. At least they can cuddle with you. I wish I could cuddle with my sushi.
Art, however, is perennial for me. It's less a hobby than a language. It is a way to communicate knowledge, imply meaning through forms. It is a subtle thing, and no matter how hard I try, I may be too heavy handed to ever touch the kind of delicacy or passion some masterworkers create. But in my own way, I think I understand what I am doing with my art, and the directions I want to pursue. Art is awesome because I can only get better at it. It's self-motivating. And what's more, it is as natural as breathing - I will see a thing in real life or just in my head, and until it gets on paper the damned thing won't leave me be. Artist's block has happened to me and I can't say how infuriating it is, but even then, I CAN create art...it's just technical practice though. It doesn't say anything.
Anyway, this was all written to kind of talk about fish. I started getting obsessed with fish at the beginning of highschool, if I remember. I had had a fish or two before that, but I hadn't thought it was worth the time. You can't pet fish. But then, in college I wasn't allowed to keep any pets that were petable (besides plants, and I kept and named those too!) so I bought my first bowl, and my first fish. I don't remember if it was a betta or a goldfish, but it was probably a goldfish, and I probably killed it some stupid way. The internet told me that goldfish could live a very long time if the owner just learned all the tricks...water ph, airation, filtration, slime coat, stress, temperature, food. I figured out that fish are like little animal bonsai. It is a matter of micromanaging the environment of the fish, and to an extent the fish itself, in order to make it's life as good and long as possible. And as heartbreaking as it was when any of my fish died (and of course, they all do die eventually. Everything does. C'est la vie) I would learn more about how to keep other fish alive better in the future.
So now I have three bettas. Once, there were four. Gem died two weeks ago or so, and he had always been a sickly fish - I never expected him to live even a month after I bought him. I always thought there was something wrong inside of him. But in any case, there are now three; sushi, maranara, and alfredo.
Sushi is sick - he's floating, nose to the sky/vertically on the surface, and moving very little. He stopped eating about a week ago, and the last time I fed him he nudged his food but it was as though he was blind and he couldn't coordinate to get at the food. I feel so horribly bad for him. I doubt he'll survive the night. He would surely not survive any attempts for me to save him now, like a partial water change, etc. This is the end for sushi, and if he's not dead in the morning, I'll likely flush him just so I don't have to watch him suffer any longer. He was a crazy fish from the time I got him - easily the most aggressive beta I've seen in a cup. Also, a pretty ugly looking fish, as he was clearly a fry bred from a "red white and blue" beta, which have these striped kind of fins...but sushi just got washed out whites, purples, and greys. I loved him, in my way, and I'll miss him. I wish so much there were something I could do to make him better. He has live about a year and a half, and ideally they can live up to five years.
I dream about my fish. I dream I am saving them from death - somehow they've leapt from their bowls and I must put them back in, usually. Or I dream that they have died, and are floating, milky eyed and motionless, smelling horribly of dead fish. I hate these dreams. I hope, by processing some of my feelings about fish, that I won't have one like that tonight about my sushi. I hope the souls of all the fish I have killed forgive me my fumbling attempts to keep them alive.
I've decided, after my two remaining betas, to not keep any pet fish again. It's not that I don't appreciate the knowledge I've gained, or enjoy the company of fish. It's just so depressing when they die, because it is 7 times out of 10 my fault - didn't change the water enough or fed too much or something similar. For sushi it could be any of these.
I want a cat, or a dog. At least they can cuddle with you. I wish I could cuddle with my sushi.
Monday, October 29, 2007
I can't believe it
Those cookies I made? I left them on the counter to cool. Guess what.
Those two dogs ate an entire batch of cookies, that's 3 dozen medium sized cookies.
I hope they puke and feel totally miserable soon. They're in their kennels, I was tempted just to lock them outside after this. I'm so furious. I worked hard on those fucking cookies and I was looking forward to giving them to friends. I hate those stupid dogs. Today I fed, watered, walked, treated, and even bathed them, and they repay me by eating ALL my fucking cookies.
Tomorrow they're gettin the cold shoulder, that's all I have to say. No respect for authority at all. Especially that Sampson one.
I'm SOOOOO mad.
Those two dogs ate an entire batch of cookies, that's 3 dozen medium sized cookies.
I hope they puke and feel totally miserable soon. They're in their kennels, I was tempted just to lock them outside after this. I'm so furious. I worked hard on those fucking cookies and I was looking forward to giving them to friends. I hate those stupid dogs. Today I fed, watered, walked, treated, and even bathed them, and they repay me by eating ALL my fucking cookies.
Tomorrow they're gettin the cold shoulder, that's all I have to say. No respect for authority at all. Especially that Sampson one.
I'm SOOOOO mad.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Pumpkin guts? Don't throw them out!
This is an awesome recipe. I just carved my first pumpkin of the season, and after seperating out the seed (for future roasting) I was left with a messy pile of guts. And I thought (in true future-old-lady fashion) isn't there SOMETHING I could do with these? The answer....COOKIES!
Pumpkin Guts Cookies
- 1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar
- 1 cup unsalted butter, softened
- 2 eggs
- 1 cup solid pack pumpkin puree
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
- 1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
- 10 ounces white chocolate chips
- 1 cup chopped pecans
1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
2. In a large mixing bowl, cream sugar and butter until smooth. Beat in eggs until well mixed. Blend in pumpkin puree and vanilla.
(at this point, the gooey mess is very unappetizing looking. Don't worry, when you add the flour all will be well!)
3. Combine dry ingredients and add to creamed mixture. Stir to blend.
4. Fold in white chocolate chips and pecans.
5. Drop by teaspoons onto lightly greased cookie sheets.
6. Bake for 20 to 22 minutes. Makes 3 dozen.
UNBELIEVIBLY GOOD! They developed a light, crispy outside and a soft but cohesive middle. Not crunchy, soooooo good. I substituted white chocolate chips for regular milk chocolate and it was still super good.
It didn't get rid of all the guts, only a cup of them, but I did feel less wasteful...in a way.
<3 Maddie
Saturday, September 29, 2007
I am so learning the thriller dance
Follow this link and the Thriller dance opens up before you! I'm going to learn it, I'm currently on video 10 (which means I'm through the zombie march, booty-bounces and initial swims...you'll know what that means if you follow the link). It's fun, and it's kind of exercise! There's going to be a worldwide dance of Thriller on the 27th of October, and I think if I work at it a bit every day I'll learn it by then!
Come on! Learning is fun! So is being a creepy zombie!
Come on! Learning is fun! So is being a creepy zombie!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Maddie take me home
Yeah so.
When I hear or see the phrase "I'm a lesbian trapped in a man's body" it makes me want to puke. Just...ugh. No. You're not. Becuase being a lesbian? Not often hilarious and witty and makes you interesting and popular and catchy. And hey, this trend with unrealistically hot women making out with eachother in front of a camera and calling that lesbianism? Fuck that. I don't look like that, and me making out with a girl, sure I think it's hot, but it's not FOR you, men. The media has made my sexuality something cheap and whorish, and I think of it as something sacred, so it sickens me. That's what that shirt is really about. Yeah. Fuck that.
Um, so here's my girl. The one I don't really know yet and if I were to build her from scratch, because that's totally possible:
- she is into me. Either quietly or enthusiastically, she's INTO me. She digs the wierd stuff (or at least tolerates it) she thinks I'm kinda funny and sweet and cute. She would like to kiss me. She can picture us going places and doing things together and being together.
- she has a smile that melts me
- she is ambitious and positive about herself and where she's going in life
- she can be jellous or not, as long as she is willing to have a life a little bit seperate from mine. She will give me occasional space...but I do like being talked to every day. XP
- she tells me stories about her life.
- she flirts with me
- she's not afraid to make the first move sometimes (or most of the time...or every time I
chicken out which is....most of the time)
- she has some quirks of her own
- I find her attractive (and there's a great variety of beauty which I find attractive, too!)
- she wants to settle down with a woman, (hopefully me someday) and maybe have kids but
definately have a life together
- she doesn't ignore her own health or that of the world around her
I think the rest could sort itself out. I think my list is realistic. OK, I'm ready for you to walk up to me on the street now and say Maddie take me home. Cause I will.
- me
When I hear or see the phrase "I'm a lesbian trapped in a man's body" it makes me want to puke. Just...ugh. No. You're not. Becuase being a lesbian? Not often hilarious and witty and makes you interesting and popular and catchy. And hey, this trend with unrealistically hot women making out with eachother in front of a camera and calling that lesbianism? Fuck that. I don't look like that, and me making out with a girl, sure I think it's hot, but it's not FOR you, men. The media has made my sexuality something cheap and whorish, and I think of it as something sacred, so it sickens me. That's what that shirt is really about. Yeah. Fuck that.
Um, so here's my girl. The one I don't really know yet and if I were to build her from scratch, because that's totally possible:
- she is into me. Either quietly or enthusiastically, she's INTO me. She digs the wierd stuff (or at least tolerates it) she thinks I'm kinda funny and sweet and cute. She would like to kiss me. She can picture us going places and doing things together and being together.
- she has a smile that melts me
- she is ambitious and positive about herself and where she's going in life
- she can be jellous or not, as long as she is willing to have a life a little bit seperate from mine. She will give me occasional space...but I do like being talked to every day. XP
- she tells me stories about her life.
- she flirts with me
- she's not afraid to make the first move sometimes (or most of the time...or every time I
chicken out which is....most of the time)
- she has some quirks of her own
- I find her attractive (and there's a great variety of beauty which I find attractive, too!)
- she wants to settle down with a woman, (hopefully me someday) and maybe have kids but
definately have a life together
- she doesn't ignore her own health or that of the world around her
I think the rest could sort itself out. I think my list is realistic. OK, I'm ready for you to walk up to me on the street now and say Maddie take me home. Cause I will.
- me
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Unlike me - Kate Havnevik
there are no guarantees in life
not for the present,
nor for the future.
all I know is
that I'm here...
don't know for how long.
I love the way
you live so intensely,
enjoy every minute of life
with space to swing
your arms around
laughing loudly
unlike me
do you think I'm strange?
unlike you
I am not pretending
there's no time,
time doesn't really exist.
the past, the present, and the future
are all side by side,
hand in hand.
you move and change,
yet you go nowhere:
everything stays the same.
you stare at me,
and ask me questions,
makes me nervous
this room it keeps a constant tone
while I'm on a roller coaster
unlike me
do you think I'm strange?
unlike you
I am not pretending
there's no time...
time doesn't really exist
there's no time...
time doesn't really exist.
......................
Where am I going? What should I be doing? I don't know, and I feel like I should. Let's figure that out.
I'm so tired of being yelled at, but it's easier than true dissapointment; failing after really, honestly trying. I applied for Blockbuster and Hollywood video, and I'll probably get one of them. It's a crap job. I know that. I'll enjoy it, but it'll be crappy pay and won't get me anywhere. but I know what's really in my heart. I've always known.
I want to sell my art. To have people use it and love it and share it. I want to do that. I've got a holding out hope, and it's something very fragile too, that people will like it enough to buy it. And I'm scared of putting that hope out on the chopping block. Because what if people really don't buy it? What if they think it's boring, or ugly, or childish? It would hurt my feelings. Oh my poor little feelings. But I think, even if I'm not good enough yet, I do think I could be good enough for people to buy my stuff. And I can do anything, with art. I have that boundless confidence there that I don't have with absolutely anything else. Totally boundless. I could, I can. And I'm afraid to jepordize that confidence because I only have it with art.
My art could be important. It could change how people think about things, or at least provide another voice in the throng. Enough people have to like it so that I can live off it. What most people like is cute, or beautiful, and always non-threatening to their ideals. Suck a duck. No self-respecting artist, thus, can earn money except by debasing the morality of their art! But, no, maybe it could be done if you just find a way to sneak in the message...make it look pretty on the surface, for those who don't look any deeper, and then slide in the sub-message in the turn of the hand, the direction of the eyes.....it could be done. And maybe bolder art on the side, real art, just for those who really give a shit?
I want to work in pen and ink. It makes me feel free. It makes me feel whole when I complete a piece. It's part of who I am. I want to work with fabric, work fabric into my pen and ink pieces although I don't know how. And clay, figurative clay peices are something I want to work a lot more in. And metal. I want to do art forever, for the rest of my life, and I want to be good at it and sell it and...well, I don't care really much about much else. I'd have side projects...I always have side-projects like learning about edible plants and learning how to quilt and the countries of south america, but the thing I want to DO is art.
Last year was a big blow. With religious life, I want to have a home. A community. A place I can be myself, do my art, love my God, and be surrounded with people who have stories and lives and can influence me. That's what it would be to me. I can see myself being lonely there. But I don't know, right now, if I wouldn't rather live in a house with my so, and my dog and cat(s), walk to my car in the rain, drive to my studio and work a long day cranking out art and phoning the gallery and installing my pieces, and then coming home to her and talking about our day...I like both things, but right now I'm leaning toward the secular vision.
Because no one in that religious community will be like me. Lesbian, OUT, liberal (relatively)...
and while I'm questioning what I've thought I'd be for a really long time, let's go for Catholocism.
Hi. I believe in God. I believe in his son Jesus Christ, who was concieved of the power of the holy spirit was born to Mary (the virgin thing seems kind of unnecessary, I don't care about her past and well, I guess it would be a neat mirical if it were true), he was persecuted under Pontius Pilot, was crucified, died and was buried. He decended to the dead. On the third day he rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures. He's up there in heaven with God and someday he'll come back so it's a good idea to stay on your toes. Good with all that.
I believe that the ONE church, ie the Catholic church, cannot adequetally sustain the different cultures and peoples it opens it's doors to. Look at me. I've learned about things like Dignity and such, but what does it tell me that half to two thirds of Catholic churches won't even let Dignity gather in their ever so sacred space? I'm still an abomination in the Church's eyes. And I love loud, wonderful worship. I WANT to worship that way when I need to, when I feel like it. I don't want to be afraid to ruffle feathers with my identity.
HEY CHURCH! Hey Catholic Church yes I'm talking to you. What the fuck, huh? I love you. I really, honestly love you so why are you still pushing me away? This gay thing isn't changing. Can't I love whom I love, freely, honestly, equally? Why can't you understand that? Because this is who I see in my mind when I talk to you - a bunch of old white haired men, not a woman among your exclusive leadership (they're serving coffee and doughnuts downstairs). Where are the people like me? They're PROTESTANT that's where. They got sick of you passing laws against them and calling them names and shoving them in cornes. You, Church. You have made me your outcast.
Oh this is torture. This is really torture. I'm not brave enough for all this, really. I keep saying in my head, I love being Catholic. I do. But there's no place set at the table for me. It's like in middle school when I'd want to sit with all the people I thought were interesting, pretty, popular but there was no way for me to sit there.
So what would Jesus do here, seriously? I think Jesus would tell them off, and then get thanked by way of crucifixion. He didn't drag the poor person into the rich person's gathering and sit him down there. He sat at that gathering himself, and also turned around and sat at different gatherings with the poor people. He was a bridge. He was a bridge.
Could I be a bridge? Could I start gatherings for people like me? With Dignity, maybe? For those adults and teens and anyone really who wants to do like Magis did for me?
I want to. I feel like I need to, but not with the dragging feeling of obligation I've had before about things. I WANT to. It would be inauthentic of me to go to Church and not work to better it. But it is NOT CHRISTIAN to fail to minister to this obvious need. OBVIOUS.
So here's where I'm at, a summary and then I go to bed.
1. I want to make art, sell it, and live off it.
2. I don't know if I want to be a nun or not. But right now, I'm leaning toward not.
3. If I'm going to stay Catholic (which right now I am) I need to get in touch with Dignity.
4. I'd like to work for Dignity, I think. From what I know about it.
5. I want to make a place for people like me. I want to meet more of them, and help them too. And be helped by them too.
6. I need to save so I can live on my own. This is 100% imperative. YES.
I think that's that. So blockbuster is fine, for now. Now is research time, and here are just a few of the questions:
1. where my art, how my art, what my art, why my art, who my art. When is whenever I can.
2. I'm putting religious life on the back burner, but I must (as dad said) be trying out the lifestyle now to see if I could live it. I've not forgotten how it resonates with me, how right it seems. If nothing else comes of my intense love of the religious life, I could be associated with a community, or maybe even join it later in life. I'm not done with the nun thing.
3. I like blockbuster because it can give me some money, without demanding all my time and brainpower. I need a job that I get back from and I have enough energy and time to create art. I need to figure out how this balance will work, and really get going on it.
ok, and now to repost in a few places, and then go to bed. Night night.
- me
not for the present,
nor for the future.
all I know is
that I'm here...
don't know for how long.
I love the way
you live so intensely,
enjoy every minute of life
with space to swing
your arms around
laughing loudly
unlike me
do you think I'm strange?
unlike you
I am not pretending
there's no time,
time doesn't really exist.
the past, the present, and the future
are all side by side,
hand in hand.
you move and change,
yet you go nowhere:
everything stays the same.
you stare at me,
and ask me questions,
makes me nervous
this room it keeps a constant tone
while I'm on a roller coaster
unlike me
do you think I'm strange?
unlike you
I am not pretending
there's no time...
time doesn't really exist
there's no time...
time doesn't really exist.
......................
Where am I going? What should I be doing? I don't know, and I feel like I should. Let's figure that out.
I'm so tired of being yelled at, but it's easier than true dissapointment; failing after really, honestly trying. I applied for Blockbuster and Hollywood video, and I'll probably get one of them. It's a crap job. I know that. I'll enjoy it, but it'll be crappy pay and won't get me anywhere. but I know what's really in my heart. I've always known.
I want to sell my art. To have people use it and love it and share it. I want to do that. I've got a holding out hope, and it's something very fragile too, that people will like it enough to buy it. And I'm scared of putting that hope out on the chopping block. Because what if people really don't buy it? What if they think it's boring, or ugly, or childish? It would hurt my feelings. Oh my poor little feelings. But I think, even if I'm not good enough yet, I do think I could be good enough for people to buy my stuff. And I can do anything, with art. I have that boundless confidence there that I don't have with absolutely anything else. Totally boundless. I could, I can. And I'm afraid to jepordize that confidence because I only have it with art.
My art could be important. It could change how people think about things, or at least provide another voice in the throng. Enough people have to like it so that I can live off it. What most people like is cute, or beautiful, and always non-threatening to their ideals. Suck a duck. No self-respecting artist, thus, can earn money except by debasing the morality of their art! But, no, maybe it could be done if you just find a way to sneak in the message...make it look pretty on the surface, for those who don't look any deeper, and then slide in the sub-message in the turn of the hand, the direction of the eyes.....it could be done. And maybe bolder art on the side, real art, just for those who really give a shit?
I want to work in pen and ink. It makes me feel free. It makes me feel whole when I complete a piece. It's part of who I am. I want to work with fabric, work fabric into my pen and ink pieces although I don't know how. And clay, figurative clay peices are something I want to work a lot more in. And metal. I want to do art forever, for the rest of my life, and I want to be good at it and sell it and...well, I don't care really much about much else. I'd have side projects...I always have side-projects like learning about edible plants and learning how to quilt and the countries of south america, but the thing I want to DO is art.
Last year was a big blow. With religious life, I want to have a home. A community. A place I can be myself, do my art, love my God, and be surrounded with people who have stories and lives and can influence me. That's what it would be to me. I can see myself being lonely there. But I don't know, right now, if I wouldn't rather live in a house with my so, and my dog and cat(s), walk to my car in the rain, drive to my studio and work a long day cranking out art and phoning the gallery and installing my pieces, and then coming home to her and talking about our day...I like both things, but right now I'm leaning toward the secular vision.
Because no one in that religious community will be like me. Lesbian, OUT, liberal (relatively)...
and while I'm questioning what I've thought I'd be for a really long time, let's go for Catholocism.
Hi. I believe in God. I believe in his son Jesus Christ, who was concieved of the power of the holy spirit was born to Mary (the virgin thing seems kind of unnecessary, I don't care about her past and well, I guess it would be a neat mirical if it were true), he was persecuted under Pontius Pilot, was crucified, died and was buried. He decended to the dead. On the third day he rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures. He's up there in heaven with God and someday he'll come back so it's a good idea to stay on your toes. Good with all that.
I believe that the ONE church, ie the Catholic church, cannot adequetally sustain the different cultures and peoples it opens it's doors to. Look at me. I've learned about things like Dignity and such, but what does it tell me that half to two thirds of Catholic churches won't even let Dignity gather in their ever so sacred space? I'm still an abomination in the Church's eyes. And I love loud, wonderful worship. I WANT to worship that way when I need to, when I feel like it. I don't want to be afraid to ruffle feathers with my identity.
HEY CHURCH! Hey Catholic Church yes I'm talking to you. What the fuck, huh? I love you. I really, honestly love you so why are you still pushing me away? This gay thing isn't changing. Can't I love whom I love, freely, honestly, equally? Why can't you understand that? Because this is who I see in my mind when I talk to you - a bunch of old white haired men, not a woman among your exclusive leadership (they're serving coffee and doughnuts downstairs). Where are the people like me? They're PROTESTANT that's where. They got sick of you passing laws against them and calling them names and shoving them in cornes. You, Church. You have made me your outcast.
Oh this is torture. This is really torture. I'm not brave enough for all this, really. I keep saying in my head, I love being Catholic. I do. But there's no place set at the table for me. It's like in middle school when I'd want to sit with all the people I thought were interesting, pretty, popular but there was no way for me to sit there.
So what would Jesus do here, seriously? I think Jesus would tell them off, and then get thanked by way of crucifixion. He didn't drag the poor person into the rich person's gathering and sit him down there. He sat at that gathering himself, and also turned around and sat at different gatherings with the poor people. He was a bridge. He was a bridge.
Could I be a bridge? Could I start gatherings for people like me? With Dignity, maybe? For those adults and teens and anyone really who wants to do like Magis did for me?
I want to. I feel like I need to, but not with the dragging feeling of obligation I've had before about things. I WANT to. It would be inauthentic of me to go to Church and not work to better it. But it is NOT CHRISTIAN to fail to minister to this obvious need. OBVIOUS.
So here's where I'm at, a summary and then I go to bed.
1. I want to make art, sell it, and live off it.
2. I don't know if I want to be a nun or not. But right now, I'm leaning toward not.
3. If I'm going to stay Catholic (which right now I am) I need to get in touch with Dignity.
4. I'd like to work for Dignity, I think. From what I know about it.
5. I want to make a place for people like me. I want to meet more of them, and help them too. And be helped by them too.
6. I need to save so I can live on my own. This is 100% imperative. YES.
I think that's that. So blockbuster is fine, for now. Now is research time, and here are just a few of the questions:
1. where my art, how my art, what my art, why my art, who my art. When is whenever I can.
2. I'm putting religious life on the back burner, but I must (as dad said) be trying out the lifestyle now to see if I could live it. I've not forgotten how it resonates with me, how right it seems. If nothing else comes of my intense love of the religious life, I could be associated with a community, or maybe even join it later in life. I'm not done with the nun thing.
3. I like blockbuster because it can give me some money, without demanding all my time and brainpower. I need a job that I get back from and I have enough energy and time to create art. I need to figure out how this balance will work, and really get going on it.
ok, and now to repost in a few places, and then go to bed. Night night.
- me
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
uh oh, now here's a problem.
aaahhhhhhhhhhhh ok, so I met a really really really awesome girl. She's cute she's interesting she's smart she's fun...I like her. I think I could like her a lot. And I'm going to be meeting her on Sunday.
We met through okc, and we just kind of hit it off.
I'm terrified. It's the same thing. Me being fat. I'm just terrified she'll meet me and decide um, not attractive weight problem, gonna have to pass. I know it's almost all me, I just can't see MYSELF as attractive. I wouldn't fuck me.
But why? Why wouldn't I be attracted to me? I'm sweet, I'm funny, I'm nice. I have interesting things to contribute to conversations. I'm not boring. My face is good; good lips, good smile, good eyes.
But I'm fat, yeah. A lot around the middle. But I'm not super obese. I'm not ugly really. It just makes me feel so insecure, like I deserve rejection because of it.
I need to sort this out and feel confident by Sunday. I really want to be confident of myself when I'm around her. I just...ok, I know this sounds rediculous, but I want to be right for her. She seems so awesome to me, so much of what I'd pick out if she were some make-believe "ideal" so. And our conversation today...it felt like we both wanted this to work, to become a real relationship. And I do.
Why don't I think I'm worthy of love?
- me
We met through okc, and we just kind of hit it off.
I'm terrified. It's the same thing. Me being fat. I'm just terrified she'll meet me and decide um, not attractive weight problem, gonna have to pass. I know it's almost all me, I just can't see MYSELF as attractive. I wouldn't fuck me.
But why? Why wouldn't I be attracted to me? I'm sweet, I'm funny, I'm nice. I have interesting things to contribute to conversations. I'm not boring. My face is good; good lips, good smile, good eyes.
But I'm fat, yeah. A lot around the middle. But I'm not super obese. I'm not ugly really. It just makes me feel so insecure, like I deserve rejection because of it.
I need to sort this out and feel confident by Sunday. I really want to be confident of myself when I'm around her. I just...ok, I know this sounds rediculous, but I want to be right for her. She seems so awesome to me, so much of what I'd pick out if she were some make-believe "ideal" so. And our conversation today...it felt like we both wanted this to work, to become a real relationship. And I do.
Why don't I think I'm worthy of love?
- me
Monday, August 27, 2007
tina dico knows my name
I need a room with a view
and armchair by the window,
cup of coffee and a cigarette or two
I watch the sky turn from hazy gray to black
watch my neighbors go to work
and look exhausted and burned out
when they get back...
think about you
thank god for this beautiful view
I recall you took me swimming
the sea was dark and cold
you'd been there many times before
with many different girls I'd been told
but what's a man without a past?
we love him for his lies and then we try
to break him down
to make it last,
till they come true...
thank god for this beautiful view
beautiful view...you...I still love you
the dark is falling and the city fills with light
cars like shining pearls on strings
moving through the emptiness of night.
the wine is running to my head
I'm spellbound by the moment
pick it up, can't find the strength to go to bed
without you...thank god for this beautiful view
beautiful view...you...I still love you
I've been blind, too blind to tell false from truth
I've been so busy running never stopped to think
where I was running to
and I've learned my lesson from the tears I've had to cry
sometimes it's good to take a break
to sit alone and watch the world go by
cause everything is new
thank god for this beautiful view
every day is new
thank god for this beautful view
and armchair by the window,
cup of coffee and a cigarette or two
I watch the sky turn from hazy gray to black
watch my neighbors go to work
and look exhausted and burned out
when they get back...
think about you
thank god for this beautiful view
I recall you took me swimming
the sea was dark and cold
you'd been there many times before
with many different girls I'd been told
but what's a man without a past?
we love him for his lies and then we try
to break him down
to make it last,
till they come true...
thank god for this beautiful view
beautiful view...you...I still love you
the dark is falling and the city fills with light
cars like shining pearls on strings
moving through the emptiness of night.
the wine is running to my head
I'm spellbound by the moment
pick it up, can't find the strength to go to bed
without you...thank god for this beautiful view
beautiful view...you...I still love you
I've been blind, too blind to tell false from truth
I've been so busy running never stopped to think
where I was running to
and I've learned my lesson from the tears I've had to cry
sometimes it's good to take a break
to sit alone and watch the world go by
cause everything is new
thank god for this beautiful view
every day is new
thank god for this beautful view
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Discontent, anxiety, remorse, etc.
I feel aweful about Liz, about how things went with her and me. I'm too chickenshit to call her, plus I don't even really want to talk to her...I would love to just let her not be part of my life ever again, to just leave that in the past...but she has my leather jacket. Seriously, I know it's only a jacket, but that thing went to china with me. I love that jacket. More than I loved her? Maybe. Shallow? Yes. Good evidence of why that thing went down the drain so rapidly, once I finally pulled the plug.
I'm still treading water. Yesterday I exercised, and today I will after my class, I'm eating reasonibly...I'm honesty trying to start a new pattern. I know that I've failed a lot in the past at doing this, but I just have to do it, despite that. I'm trying to be excited and not give up on myself too early in the game.
I want a girlfriend pretty badly, but I know I don't have a place for her in my life right yet. I don't have a job, a place to live, or my dog. Those things all have to come before girlfriend, in my book.
I finished my philosophy class. I feel I did pretty fucking well. I wrote some good papers, took some good tests. If nothing else, I'll definately pass. That's all that counts to my school. But what counts to me is that I really did learn a lot, and I actually care about what I learned! It's the same for my women's studies class, maybe even to a greater degree. As ineffectually as I started the paper for it last night, I know when I really get into the writing it'll start to flow naturally. I'm so glad it's not due today, though. I'd be screwed.
I know who I want to be, and what I want to do (for the most part), the challenge is making my desires match reality, and my reality match my desires in turn. I know it can be done.
I'm worried about not taking my pills, my anxiety pills (IRONY!). I'm doing ok, I think a lot of my crazy was brought on by all the stresses I was under at school and now back at home I'm more stable. I don't want to be the crazy girl though, I don't want to go back to how I was last semester. That was a bad time.
I miss my friends, I miss having an easy time, just being me, lazing around watching tv or studying together. I miss Caitlin so much it hurts.
That's where my brain is right now. In Alaska with her.
I'm still treading water. Yesterday I exercised, and today I will after my class, I'm eating reasonibly...I'm honesty trying to start a new pattern. I know that I've failed a lot in the past at doing this, but I just have to do it, despite that. I'm trying to be excited and not give up on myself too early in the game.
I want a girlfriend pretty badly, but I know I don't have a place for her in my life right yet. I don't have a job, a place to live, or my dog. Those things all have to come before girlfriend, in my book.
I finished my philosophy class. I feel I did pretty fucking well. I wrote some good papers, took some good tests. If nothing else, I'll definately pass. That's all that counts to my school. But what counts to me is that I really did learn a lot, and I actually care about what I learned! It's the same for my women's studies class, maybe even to a greater degree. As ineffectually as I started the paper for it last night, I know when I really get into the writing it'll start to flow naturally. I'm so glad it's not due today, though. I'd be screwed.
I know who I want to be, and what I want to do (for the most part), the challenge is making my desires match reality, and my reality match my desires in turn. I know it can be done.
I'm worried about not taking my pills, my anxiety pills (IRONY!). I'm doing ok, I think a lot of my crazy was brought on by all the stresses I was under at school and now back at home I'm more stable. I don't want to be the crazy girl though, I don't want to go back to how I was last semester. That was a bad time.
I miss my friends, I miss having an easy time, just being me, lazing around watching tv or studying together. I miss Caitlin so much it hurts.
That's where my brain is right now. In Alaska with her.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
I miss you more than I should, than I thought I could.
So I was thinking about the problem I have with touching, hugging, holding, being physical with people. It, contact that is, has always made me feel really really uncomfortable unless it’s agreed upon in a specific way…like a hug is usually a quick thing and both people intend to pull away at a certain point. Knowing when you’re going to disengage the physical contact is part of it. With most situations like that I don’t know when it’s going to happen and I worry that I’ll hold on too long and make the other person feel weird somehow, or if I disengage too quickly or react to quickly and make them feel rebuffed. That always runs though my head, and I try to relax and be natural about physical contact but I still always have this tension in me.
Also, physical contact is very shocking to me, especially bare skin to bare skin. Like it is unpleasant to be bumped in a subway, but it’s REALLY unpleasant for someone (anyone really) to suddenly touch my bare hand. I realize the social cues for things like that…to reinforce communication and familiarity, to emphasize a point. But to touch me is to invade my person. Also really touchy people I tend to misinterpret as people interested in my sexually, which is often false, and I make this assumption because it’s often a flirtatious thing to touch someone, but also it’s not sometimes so it’s hard for me to tell.
This is all in direct contrast with how I feel about touching animals, which I love to pet and sit with on my lap and I love to feel the weight of a dog or cat against my back as I fall asleep. I love the different shapes of dogs and cats faces, and to touch the strange contours. I know how wierd that sounds, but it's true. So but I can fall asleep with animals nearby. That’s nice, even comforting. But I can’t sleep in the same bed as someone else, I’ve found, because I listen to their breathing and think about the sounds my stomach makes and how maybe my nose whistles while I try to lie quietly beside them. So I don’t sleep. Except with Caitlin in the room…for some reason, I learned to let myself be and I loved to listen to her gentle sleep sounds…but then, I was in love with her, so there’s that. We had very few bounderies between us, in the end.
I want to find a way to let myself be as other people are, and be less sensitized to touch in these ways. It has been true for as far back as I can remember. I’m not as sensitive to sound anymore, but I still cover my ears or leave the room if there are sounds that are too loud, or if there is a sound that scratches a nerve inside me I react in a physical way. I used not be able to sleep with music or ay sounds at all. The loudness of my friend's cars, the sound of their music especially base (which still bothers me sometimes) would make me feel physically sick. There are so many ways, I find, that I am terrifically different from others, from everyone I know. A lot of it is neurosis (or possibly psychosis), tied to my brain being...off.
I wish I were like normal people. I was thinking about this as I was trying to sleep tonight. It's really lonely sometimes.
Also, physical contact is very shocking to me, especially bare skin to bare skin. Like it is unpleasant to be bumped in a subway, but it’s REALLY unpleasant for someone (anyone really) to suddenly touch my bare hand. I realize the social cues for things like that…to reinforce communication and familiarity, to emphasize a point. But to touch me is to invade my person. Also really touchy people I tend to misinterpret as people interested in my sexually, which is often false, and I make this assumption because it’s often a flirtatious thing to touch someone, but also it’s not sometimes so it’s hard for me to tell.
This is all in direct contrast with how I feel about touching animals, which I love to pet and sit with on my lap and I love to feel the weight of a dog or cat against my back as I fall asleep. I love the different shapes of dogs and cats faces, and to touch the strange contours. I know how wierd that sounds, but it's true. So but I can fall asleep with animals nearby. That’s nice, even comforting. But I can’t sleep in the same bed as someone else, I’ve found, because I listen to their breathing and think about the sounds my stomach makes and how maybe my nose whistles while I try to lie quietly beside them. So I don’t sleep. Except with Caitlin in the room…for some reason, I learned to let myself be and I loved to listen to her gentle sleep sounds…but then, I was in love with her, so there’s that. We had very few bounderies between us, in the end.
I want to find a way to let myself be as other people are, and be less sensitized to touch in these ways. It has been true for as far back as I can remember. I’m not as sensitive to sound anymore, but I still cover my ears or leave the room if there are sounds that are too loud, or if there is a sound that scratches a nerve inside me I react in a physical way. I used not be able to sleep with music or ay sounds at all. The loudness of my friend's cars, the sound of their music especially base (which still bothers me sometimes) would make me feel physically sick. There are so many ways, I find, that I am terrifically different from others, from everyone I know. A lot of it is neurosis (or possibly psychosis), tied to my brain being...off.
I wish I were like normal people. I was thinking about this as I was trying to sleep tonight. It's really lonely sometimes.
Monday, July 2, 2007
gnomes on my brain
And seriously, here's a cool idea. I would love to design and sell garden, home and work gnomes, of varying sizes and degrees of detail. Some for mass production made with plaster cast molds, and some individual and unique pieces. I spent the last hour drawing sketches of different gnomes I'd love to create and sell. And fuck, I could sell them in Tammy's shop!! Could it get more awesome? I mean, lots to pin down. I don't know if I could sculpture as well as I'd need to for such a grand undertaking. But how awesome to be the gnome lady. People collecting my gnomes.
The home and work ones would be of particularly small size, since I'd want them to be able to sit on a desk or on a bookshelf. But never plastic, I like to work in ceramics too much, but I don't know if I should use porcelein or some kind of earthen ware...for the smaller ones probably porcelein if it's going to be so small, right? I need the detail, but a lot of that can be the painting.
The designs I've come up with so far are just awesome. Portland is such a ggreen place, and it should be totally overrun with gnomes in my opinion. Vancouver and Camas too! And if I'm in luck, Mom will hate gnomes. =)
The home and work ones would be of particularly small size, since I'd want them to be able to sit on a desk or on a bookshelf. But never plastic, I like to work in ceramics too much, but I don't know if I should use porcelein or some kind of earthen ware...for the smaller ones probably porcelein if it's going to be so small, right? I need the detail, but a lot of that can be the painting.
The designs I've come up with so far are just awesome. Portland is such a ggreen place, and it should be totally overrun with gnomes in my opinion. Vancouver and Camas too! And if I'm in luck, Mom will hate gnomes. =)
ok, so.
I bought a scale. It was hard for me to do, I hated having to ask for where it was because I have to resist the urge to assume other people care whether or not I'm fat. I'm just some random customer to them, passing very briefly through their lives, making no major impression really. The question remains if I really can change. IF it's possible. What I want to believe is true is manifestly not always true - I believed I could complete my internship. I believed I could graduate on time. I believed I could pass my classes. None of these things were true. Caitlin love that movie "what the bleep do we know" all about how believing in something helps to make it true. If I don't give myself a chance, if I don't start out believing I can make it, I do doom myself. I want more out of this life. I want to be thin, confident, have a good job, spiritually prepare myself for my religious life, try out that dating a girl who actually cares about me thing…Go to clubs and meet people.
But with the weight thing, I do want to lose weight. I do want to be skinny. I need to make a plan so that it will happen…and I need to stick to it and not let myself grow frustrated and quit, or over-reward myself, or cheat because I don’t feel happy.
Problem areas with my losing weight:
I use food to counter-act boredom, and every time I feel any kind of hunger I immediately eat. I think, other than one snack in the afternoon, I should drink water when I get these cravings, or tea, or gum. All good alternatives.
Exercise is a real problem. I hate doing sit-ups, not because they exhaust me but because they hurt my back and my ass and my neck…everything BUT my stomach. I need to find exercises that work the stomach muscles that are nicer to the rest of my body…or maybe I’m just not doing them right. That’s something to find out tomorrow I think.
But I bought the scale. That’s for weekly weighing. I need to print out a calendar so that I can keep track of my weight and what I eat each day, like I was gonna do with Dom but stopped doing. I did weight myself tonight…no, I can’t even type it. I’m ashamed that I’ve let my weight problem get so out of control. I don’t want to be one of those morbidly obese people on tv who have to get a gastric-bypass surgery or they WILL die. I don’t want to be using food as my comfort in this world. I have a better comfort, a deeper strength, a stronger hope. I forget so often.
A big frustration is my situation with learning how to play go. Obviously it is a life passion, and perhaps I am pushing myself too hard to become better. But the software I aquired is too much stronger than I am, I don’t understand it’s tactics, I rarely get more than one of two stones, and never finish a game with more than a few living stones. I think I don’t understand the rules well enough in practice, so I’m hoping to talk to my prof after class and see if I can play a few games against him, to make sure that I’m ACTUALLY understanding it. I wish I could convince one of my friends to play with me. I don’t know anyone in the class…I’m afraid to talk to them. I don’t think they’ll like me. But I’m sure they could use practice too. I fear I’m not analytical enough to be a good player of this game. I want to be really good player of this game very badly. I know that will take time, but I want it, and I want to do what I have to do to make that happen.
I want to get A’s in both of my classes this semester, and so far I’m doing well. I’m keeping up on the homework, I’m participating. It makes me sad that I don’t have any real friends in any of the classes yet…but then, people can feel intimidated by me cause I’m so…me. I can be loud and brash and opinionated and that can really annoy some people.
Nothing feels quite right. Being home…it’s too comfortable. I’m back in all my old clothes, and I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of the fan and dad mowing the lawn outside. I should be trying to move on, to stand on my own feet. But I’m still comfortably in the nest. Because I don’t believe in myself, and I don’t want to fall on my face again.
Maybe just until Fall, I can give myself time to heal. It was really hard for me, this last year. I’ve never hated life more, struggled more just to wake up and keep living. Every day was this disjointed, painful experience that brought with it lots of self-loathing and humiliation. And losing my internship…I definitely haven’t recovered from that. IF I could just remember how valuable I can be…
so that’s some of my thoughts right now. Class in the morning so I need to go to sleep.
But with the weight thing, I do want to lose weight. I do want to be skinny. I need to make a plan so that it will happen…and I need to stick to it and not let myself grow frustrated and quit, or over-reward myself, or cheat because I don’t feel happy.
Problem areas with my losing weight:
I use food to counter-act boredom, and every time I feel any kind of hunger I immediately eat. I think, other than one snack in the afternoon, I should drink water when I get these cravings, or tea, or gum. All good alternatives.
Exercise is a real problem. I hate doing sit-ups, not because they exhaust me but because they hurt my back and my ass and my neck…everything BUT my stomach. I need to find exercises that work the stomach muscles that are nicer to the rest of my body…or maybe I’m just not doing them right. That’s something to find out tomorrow I think.
But I bought the scale. That’s for weekly weighing. I need to print out a calendar so that I can keep track of my weight and what I eat each day, like I was gonna do with Dom but stopped doing. I did weight myself tonight…no, I can’t even type it. I’m ashamed that I’ve let my weight problem get so out of control. I don’t want to be one of those morbidly obese people on tv who have to get a gastric-bypass surgery or they WILL die. I don’t want to be using food as my comfort in this world. I have a better comfort, a deeper strength, a stronger hope. I forget so often.
A big frustration is my situation with learning how to play go. Obviously it is a life passion, and perhaps I am pushing myself too hard to become better. But the software I aquired is too much stronger than I am, I don’t understand it’s tactics, I rarely get more than one of two stones, and never finish a game with more than a few living stones. I think I don’t understand the rules well enough in practice, so I’m hoping to talk to my prof after class and see if I can play a few games against him, to make sure that I’m ACTUALLY understanding it. I wish I could convince one of my friends to play with me. I don’t know anyone in the class…I’m afraid to talk to them. I don’t think they’ll like me. But I’m sure they could use practice too. I fear I’m not analytical enough to be a good player of this game. I want to be really good player of this game very badly. I know that will take time, but I want it, and I want to do what I have to do to make that happen.
I want to get A’s in both of my classes this semester, and so far I’m doing well. I’m keeping up on the homework, I’m participating. It makes me sad that I don’t have any real friends in any of the classes yet…but then, people can feel intimidated by me cause I’m so…me. I can be loud and brash and opinionated and that can really annoy some people.
Nothing feels quite right. Being home…it’s too comfortable. I’m back in all my old clothes, and I’m lulled to sleep by the sound of the fan and dad mowing the lawn outside. I should be trying to move on, to stand on my own feet. But I’m still comfortably in the nest. Because I don’t believe in myself, and I don’t want to fall on my face again.
Maybe just until Fall, I can give myself time to heal. It was really hard for me, this last year. I’ve never hated life more, struggled more just to wake up and keep living. Every day was this disjointed, painful experience that brought with it lots of self-loathing and humiliation. And losing my internship…I definitely haven’t recovered from that. IF I could just remember how valuable I can be…
so that’s some of my thoughts right now. Class in the morning so I need to go to sleep.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
I caught a flu of some kind. I seem to be sick more frequently than other people. Is this cause I'm a hypochondriac...or is there something actually wrong with me? With my immune system maybe?
I have a plan for the completion of my degree, and it's in action. On the 25th, I begin taking a class at the University of Portland. I'll also be taking a class at Clark soon. Then in the fall, a course at Marylhurst. Awesome! Then I graduate, before December no less.
Mary, the twin sister of my sister's fiance. has offered for me to go in with her on a house in Portland. It would be a very big step for me. First, I would need a job, and I believe I could do that around my school schedule. Probably at Costco, but hopefully anywhere else. Since the house would be in portland, I'm worried about transportation, as I've never taken a city bus before. Fuck, I've never lived in a city period! But it would be an awesome thing, living genuinely on my own, supporting myself, tasting Portland! I'm going to let it ruminate until I get my job set up, and then call Mary and say I am definately interested.
I'm excited about life. I just want to stop being sick now. =)
- me
I have a plan for the completion of my degree, and it's in action. On the 25th, I begin taking a class at the University of Portland. I'll also be taking a class at Clark soon. Then in the fall, a course at Marylhurst. Awesome! Then I graduate, before December no less.
Mary, the twin sister of my sister's fiance. has offered for me to go in with her on a house in Portland. It would be a very big step for me. First, I would need a job, and I believe I could do that around my school schedule. Probably at Costco, but hopefully anywhere else. Since the house would be in portland, I'm worried about transportation, as I've never taken a city bus before. Fuck, I've never lived in a city period! But it would be an awesome thing, living genuinely on my own, supporting myself, tasting Portland! I'm going to let it ruminate until I get my job set up, and then call Mary and say I am definately interested.
I'm excited about life. I just want to stop being sick now. =)
- me
Friday, May 25, 2007
Today I feel like a badass!!
I weighed myself for the first time since March (don't know the date, I guess!) and I've lost 14 pounds since then!!! That's so awesome and I'm really excited! So see, that's actual intentional weight loss!
And oh yes. I started my laundry (which there's a lot of) and I'm gonna go paint doors for my parent's flip as soon as I'm done with this post. I wrote myself a to do and to get list for the next week or so, and I feel excited for what's coming up in my life!
School is finally finally over. I feel like I can do it. Like I can be successful and I'm capable of getting a job I like and being good at it and getting enough money to move out...well, I don't know about by fall because Mom and Dad didn't think it was a reasonible expectation, but SOON!
Tonight, if I finish all my laundry, I'm going to do my first real art in a long time. I'm really happy. There's a lot to do, but I CAN DO IT! I don't have to be stuck in a rut, I can do something about it...and I am! YAY!
- Maddie
And oh yes. I started my laundry (which there's a lot of) and I'm gonna go paint doors for my parent's flip as soon as I'm done with this post. I wrote myself a to do and to get list for the next week or so, and I feel excited for what's coming up in my life!
School is finally finally over. I feel like I can do it. Like I can be successful and I'm capable of getting a job I like and being good at it and getting enough money to move out...well, I don't know about by fall because Mom and Dad didn't think it was a reasonible expectation, but SOON!
Tonight, if I finish all my laundry, I'm going to do my first real art in a long time. I'm really happy. There's a lot to do, but I CAN DO IT! I don't have to be stuck in a rut, I can do something about it...and I am! YAY!
- Maddie
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
I love "IMPACT" - it's a show on discovery health all about horrible horrible accidents that happen to people!! It's so awesome. Like right now they're talking about a guy in a car accident who got a big piece of steel rebar THROUGH HIS HEAD! And the people always survive. Sometimes they develop disabilities, but they always survive and it's so cool because they tell you about the surgeries they have to go through and the therapy, and it's just so cool. I am such a crazy morbid person sometimes.
Friday, April 13, 2007
SOON SOON SOON.
someday I will be unbearibly beautiful
and instead of you worrying for the sake of the charming, but:
ugly
fat
self-conscious
girl,
you will hit on me, you will ask me for my number,
you will ask me if I'd like to dance
you will compliment me on my health routine
and
YOU will feel intimidated by ME.
someday I will be unbearibly beautiful
and will not look at myself in the mirror
and some days laugh at my lack of progress
and some days suck in my stomach and try to imagine
and some days wish I could cut it all off with a knife
and be done with it.
someday I will be unbearibly beautiful
and girls will line up at my door, begging me to look their way
and I will buy clothes I am not embarrased of
and I will own belts that wrap around me, with several holes extra
and I will like pictures taken of me
and I people will actually see me, the me that is trapped in all this fat.
and instead of you worrying for the sake of the charming, but:
ugly
fat
self-conscious
girl,
you will hit on me, you will ask me for my number,
you will ask me if I'd like to dance
you will compliment me on my health routine
and
YOU will feel intimidated by ME.
someday I will be unbearibly beautiful
and will not look at myself in the mirror
and some days laugh at my lack of progress
and some days suck in my stomach and try to imagine
and some days wish I could cut it all off with a knife
and be done with it.
someday I will be unbearibly beautiful
and girls will line up at my door, begging me to look their way
and I will buy clothes I am not embarrased of
and I will own belts that wrap around me, with several holes extra
and I will like pictures taken of me
and I people will actually see me, the me that is trapped in all this fat.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
So...
I'm intoxicated. And breaking up with my girlfriend on the phone tonight. And hoping to get a little action from a cutie down the way.
That is all I have to say.
- fin -
That is all I have to say.
- fin -
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Azure Ray - Safe and Sound
With every word i live again
Through the eyes of another
We'll meet at night wet from the rain
And surprise each other
With how we take away the pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound
Love is how it's lost not how it's found
I don't know those eyes
But i see beauty there always
I know it's wrong to love you from afar
But it's a craze
You recognize my pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound
Love is how it's lost.. not how it's found
Love is how it's lost.. not how it's found
I'll take away your pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found
Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found
Love is when I'm lost.. not when I'm found
With every word i live again
Through the eyes of another
We'll meet at night wet from the rain
And surprise each other
With how we take away the pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound
Love is how it's lost not how it's found
I don't know those eyes
But i see beauty there always
I know it's wrong to love you from afar
But it's a craze
You recognize my pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound
Love is how it's lost.. not how it's found
Love is how it's lost.. not how it's found
I'll take away your pain
Could you be the one to find me safe and sound?
Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found
Love is how it's lost .. not how it's found
Love is when I'm lost.. not when I'm found
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
I've got some mixed up feelings recently.
I'm working harder to exercise - I'm dedicated to losing lbs, especially now that I actually know how much I weigh. No, I won't write it here. That would be a kind of torture even for me. But now that I know, I can't help but try to change it, and the effort is, FOR ONCE, going well. I've gone exercising twice this week, and it looks like I'll be going every other day, if not every day, because of cycle days. CT has been exercising with me, which has been a wonderful motivator. I'm eating well - no soda, no sweets, low fat, just reasonable.
She's living in my room. Plutonically. She has a boyfriend back at home. And I think we're becoming better friends, and that the crush is getting less....which is kind of necessary since she IS living in my room.
I'm on medication, and take it every day. It hasn't really kicked in yet (it's only been a little over a week), but I trust it will soon enough.
I've been better at doing art, and thinking through my problems. I haven't been regularly attending two of my classes, but one of them I haven't missed once, and have promised myself to never miss (since if I miss three I am automatically dropped from the class). I hereby promise myself to not miss my philosophy classes anymore just because I'm tired and shit. It's so lame of me. Part of it is just laziness...part of it is the depression...part of it is the sinking feeling of impending failure. I'm sorry if I don't have any faith in my ability to survive a philosophy class, even if the prof is nice. I just get so overwhelmed and stupid-feeling. It's just no my field. But for this semester, it just has to be.
My brother has his PhD now. I'm so proud of him, I've told all my friends.
Yesterday night I went on a candlelit walk to the chapel across the lake, to pray for piece with about 30 other people. I helped light all the torches and candles. I sang the songs with them. It felt so good, so perfect to be surrounded by these people. They want peace in their lives and in this world too. It's not just me. Walking across the ice, with the torches scattered all across the lake, we just walked, like a crowd of shadows. And I was one of them, and alone too. It was amazing.
I don't know if I can keep doing this. I know my medication will kick in soon, so I'm holding on for that. But I'm not thick with hope. I'm not heavy with joy. I'm small, and not very happy.
fin.
I'm working harder to exercise - I'm dedicated to losing lbs, especially now that I actually know how much I weigh. No, I won't write it here. That would be a kind of torture even for me. But now that I know, I can't help but try to change it, and the effort is, FOR ONCE, going well. I've gone exercising twice this week, and it looks like I'll be going every other day, if not every day, because of cycle days. CT has been exercising with me, which has been a wonderful motivator. I'm eating well - no soda, no sweets, low fat, just reasonable.
She's living in my room. Plutonically. She has a boyfriend back at home. And I think we're becoming better friends, and that the crush is getting less....which is kind of necessary since she IS living in my room.
I'm on medication, and take it every day. It hasn't really kicked in yet (it's only been a little over a week), but I trust it will soon enough.
I've been better at doing art, and thinking through my problems. I haven't been regularly attending two of my classes, but one of them I haven't missed once, and have promised myself to never miss (since if I miss three I am automatically dropped from the class). I hereby promise myself to not miss my philosophy classes anymore just because I'm tired and shit. It's so lame of me. Part of it is just laziness...part of it is the depression...part of it is the sinking feeling of impending failure. I'm sorry if I don't have any faith in my ability to survive a philosophy class, even if the prof is nice. I just get so overwhelmed and stupid-feeling. It's just no my field. But for this semester, it just has to be.
My brother has his PhD now. I'm so proud of him, I've told all my friends.
Yesterday night I went on a candlelit walk to the chapel across the lake, to pray for piece with about 30 other people. I helped light all the torches and candles. I sang the songs with them. It felt so good, so perfect to be surrounded by these people. They want peace in their lives and in this world too. It's not just me. Walking across the ice, with the torches scattered all across the lake, we just walked, like a crowd of shadows. And I was one of them, and alone too. It was amazing.
I don't know if I can keep doing this. I know my medication will kick in soon, so I'm holding on for that. But I'm not thick with hope. I'm not heavy with joy. I'm small, and not very happy.
fin.
Monday, January 1, 2007
Not Much New!
It looks like I'll get to graduate, and that things might turn out ok.
last time I had my eyes both closed
I was remembering your delicate lips
their flavor, we were drunk
and I was patiently infatuated
or how the bottle twisted in
your hands while pouring out a glass
and the gentle slur
of your whispered adoration
I’m not always sure
how you hold my attention
but you do, and completely
last time I left a boy and you
alone, too drunk to go home
and so early in the morning I sat
in the grass of the park, looked
at the stars
and cried
nobody knows that moment but me
and the moon.
you wouldn’t care for the details.
last time I had my eyes both closed
I was remembering your delicate lips
their flavor, we were drunk
and I was patiently infatuated
or how the bottle twisted in
your hands while pouring out a glass
and the gentle slur
of your whispered adoration
I’m not always sure
how you hold my attention
but you do, and completely
last time I left a boy and you
alone, too drunk to go home
and so early in the morning I sat
in the grass of the park, looked
at the stars
and cried
nobody knows that moment but me
and the moon.
you wouldn’t care for the details.
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