ON [TOPIC]

I’ve decided to do something a little new en regards to this blog, journal, diary, whatever.

Reading my blog (as it is now) is kind of like eating nothing but Triscuits all day.

Sure, a handful of Triscuits is fine every once in a while. They are dry, and salty, and, uh, texture-y, and have some fiber and fat and shit (figuratively not literally, if you know what I mean), and that’s just what we all need sometimes, but other times I WANT FUCKING PEANUT BUTTER DOUBLE FUDGE FUCKING ICE CREAM. And, honestly. Triscuits have figurative SHIT against ice cream.

In other words: I lack motivation, skill, mojo, and pinache. I need FOCUS. And balls. And ice cream. I just grossed myself out.

I have a cat licking my elbow.

She is a rather cute cat.

OW.

So what I am going to try for awhile (until I forget and grow bored of it or squirrel) is this: FOCUS my entries around a particular topic. On Pizza. On Antagonization. On Hard Cider. On Obama. On Tegan and Sara. On Money. On Guitar Hero. Etc.

So instead of the usual watered-down emo shit like this: “oh my life sucks I can’t find the motivation ’cause I’m all alone and we live in an illiterate backwards religinut hypocritical society blah cheese and blah crackers” and whatnot…

I’m going to try to write something more like this: “On Procrastination. Period. Oh Guitar Hero is just so awesome look at me I know how to press the blue button with my little pinky finger now! Wow look how I have progressed but man does it annoy me when the sounds of the guitar don’t match up with the buttons on the screen wtf am I playing like two different guitar parts at once AND a synthesizer AND a kazoo?!”

Hell, maybe I’ll actually learn something about something this way. And find some of that elusive motivation. And maybe I won’t despise myself as much anymore. And I’ll be a little less alone. And I’ll learn how to be an expert at Guitar Hero. And I’ll probably continue to intentionally speak in incomplete sentences. And this might be a good time to go do all that homework and job-hunting and FAFSA-completing stuff I should be doing instead of writing this. Yeah.

Anyway, I think I’m gonna relax a bit with some Guitar Hero now (and oh, perhaps make myself some pasta and sauce), so, uh, taa-taa~!

I Hear Music, Up Above

If you looked up apathy in the dictionary, you’d see my picture.

In totally brutal honesty, I didn’t make it to 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo. All I have to show for the month are lots and lots of pages of brainstorming, doodles, and dialogue. I am simply not a very disciplined or productive person right now, at this stage in my life. And I have no one to blame, to feel sorry for, to feel responsible for, but myself. It’s myself that I’m letting down right now, and no one else.

Obviously I didn’t follow NoBloPoMo, either.

I fail at life.

I always fall short of my potential. That’s what people have been telling me all my life. That’s why my teachers hate me, and why they sometimes give me breaks I don’t deserve. This semester is no different from all the previous semesters…

…except, now I am finally going to counseling, and having a dialogue with myself. I’m not quite there yet, but I’ll get there. Hopefully next semester.

I can feel parts of me emerging, in action, in evolution, parts birthed into being. One of the parts floating to the surface is something that’s always been there but in weak form and very much in the background: my practical side.

This is the side of me that sticks to ancient personal principles, organizes things and gets things done. This part of me is still a baby compared to the parts of me that are highly emotional, intellectual, daydreaming, aloof, sensitive and carefree, but this practical part of me is finally growing up. I could feel this, growing and growing over the course of this last year, gaining momentum and strength…

And I… I think I need it. I think it’s pretty much a survival mechanism.

It will keep me strong, and safe. And maybe it will even keep the creeping fatalism and loneliness at bay, too. We’ll see.

Back to Life, Back to Reality…

Two days ago, I sprained my back.  When I was loading some measly 16 quart bags of garden soil for this old woman, a bone in my spine popped.  For the rest of the day I was in excruciating pain.  Now I’m just in mildly annoying pain, unless I try to lift something, then I’m in excruciating pain again.  The terrible throbbing in my leg from two days ago is now just a constant dull ache.  So far, I think I’ll make a full recovery shortly.  And I better:  I have to start moving this week into the house with Angela and Sara.

Also?  I am limping horribly.  I am also on restricted duty at work.  That means no bending, stooping, squatting, reaching, and certainly no lifting.  In other words, I’m useless right now at work.  So they have me at the phones.  I’m utterly bored, and yet, we were swamped with customers today, all of whom glared at me with the same exact questions in their eyes, “can’t YOU help?!”

In response to their glares, I started doodling on the scratch paper stacked neatly next to the phone.

I was so utterly bored and helpless and understimulated at work today that I think I need to level up BabaRei again in order to satiate my brain this evening.  Then I’m going to attack that room of mine a little.  After all, my friends, I’m still moving!

On a completely unrelated note, I think I have a crush on my hairstylist.  Maybe it was the husky sound of her voice, or the way she ran her fingers through my hair and across my neck today in a way that was intriguingly sensual… who knows?

I also talked to Sara today, over the phone.  I apologized for my behavior Monday.  I was, on Monday, racked by extreme frustration, anger and guilt.  I was also extremely hormonally imbalanced.

Over the last week, I’ve been thinking about Monday and, well, all the events that have happened since I first met Sara.  The first time we hung out.  The first time we actually admitted we were attracted to each other.  The first time we kissed.  The first time we did more… and more.  And I realized something: this was just one giant fling.  One that is best forgotten.  After all, she has a boyfriend, and I’m just someone to pass the time with.  After all, she has been cheating on him all this time.  I’m the extra person.  I’m the third wheel.  I’m the one who needs to go.

But it’s over now.  I have to move past this, because I can’t keep living in this horrible state of in-between.  We will be friends, good friends.  I’m good friends with Liz now, and I used to be crazy for her, too.  It’s possible.  We’ll be friends, and nothing more unless she makes some really serious decision in the future, one she’ll never make.

And, you know, in a way Sara helped me make this most recent decision.  Over the weekend (though I didn’t notice it at first) she posted this music video to my Facebook:

Sums it all up beautifully.  :)

Now, off to Maple Story!

Run, Run, Run Away

Wow.  I think I am neglecting myself.

What I mean by that is, I started this here online journal so I could be as honest and as truthful and as lengthy and as rambling as I wanted.  No one in real life knows of this blog.  People can only judge me for the intimacy awarded to me by my almost complete anonymity.  Here, I’m just another 20-something college student, soon to be living in a college town, with college friends, and college worries.  Really, that could be millions of people.  It could be your son, or your daughter, or your sister or brother, or your best friend, or YOU.

And yet, I haven’t been writing as often as current events would warrant.  Things are indeed happening, things I could write a small book about, but I’m not writing.

Blame Maple Story.  My character, BabaRei, is already at level 18.

Blame my desperate need to latch on to something that won’t shrink from my touch.  Something less fickle than I am.  Something that will cost me less than alcohol or clove cigarettes, or hooka or pot, or a number of other highly self-destructive things I know how to access and use.

I am in a mood of extreme escapism.  Mostly because of the events happening in my life right now.

So perhaps I should stop running long enough to write about them.

Yeah.  I think I’ll do just that.

Soleil, All Over Us…

Between work and school, I’ve been getting up by 7AM every morning like clockwork, without a break at all during the week or weekend.  I’m not a morning person at all, so three-plus weeks on such a schedule means extreme sleep deprivation.  My body and mind were really starting to complain.  The manner of their complaints were bordering on terrifying, too: eye twitches, muscle tremors, drooling, hallucinations, etc.   No bueno.

This morning was the first morning, in weeks, I have actually been able to sleep-in past 10AM.

Due to a convocation at the college my classes for the day were canceled, leaving me free for the morning.  I had no work shift to head off to today either, so here’s the first break in nearly a month!  I decided to sleep until I could sleep no more… which oddly enough ended up being only until 11AM, even though before I looked at the clock I thought it was closer to 3PM and felt very, very guilty.  How odd.

Even when I did finally get up for the day FOR GOOD, however?  I remained very lethargic and lazy.   I spent another couple of hours thumbing through chapters of this one really depressing classic novel I’m reading while slowly nibbling through the leftover chocolate baby donuts and then attempting to devour a mushy mixture of leftover Grape Nuts and Mini Wheats.  Yay leftovers.  My stomach hates you all.

I also acquired a new addictive means of procrastination: Maple Story.  Damn, it’s dangerous!  I need to stay away.  Tell me I need to stay the hell away…

I also started to ponder the intriguing possibility of working on my art projects.  Then I received a call from my stepfather.  My mother was sent home prematurely from school.   Her principal determined that she was unfit to teach her classes today.  Apparently my mother kept crying uncontrollably during her lessons.  My stepfather’s call was a head’s up.  Duly noted.

When my mother came home, she looked very weary and numb.  Her shoulders were sagging and her face was blotchy and tear-streaked.  She’s worrying herself sick over my brother’s possible future court case.  The D.A.’s deciding to press charges, in spite of my parents’ protests.

She went to take a short nap before heading back out to see the doctor and psychiatrist to get my brother’s paperwork.  To, you know, prove to the “cold-hearted bitch” that is the D.A. on this case that my brother’s case is not exactly the typical one, because, you know, he has Asberger’s and a number of psychological issues.

My mother didn’t get much sleep before she had to head out again.

Later, I ate dinner with my stepfather and stepbrother at a Chinese Buffet. They enjoyed themselves while I pigged-out on pineapple, broccoli, and jello.  Mmmmm jello.  Sorry I have such an intolerance to fried meat, guys.  Kind of ruins the experience, doesn’t it?  Luckily, I’m polite enough to not complain…

After dinner we took a mini-adventure to the lake in the town my family used to live in when I was in high school, before the divorce.  I was lost in nostalgia, walking down the deer paths threading across the woodlands and wetlands and hills.  I was also completely lost in the desire to either buy a horse and/or bring my art supplies to various spots along these paths, for the view at dusk was downright breathtaking.

Man, I miss that place.  I miss living within walking distance from a lake.  There’s just something peaceful about water, about forest land devoid of fences and cookie-cutter houses.  I miss it.  My spirit aches for it, just a little bit… especially right now, when I could use such a peaceful place to oh-so-easily escape to, like I used to when I was a teenager…

I did my very best to not think about Sara.  I just don’t know what to think anymore.  Sometimes I feel used.  Sometimes I think this is all in my head.  This depressing classic novel I’m reading right now is NOT helping, either, because I see a bit of my experiences in life, and my experiences with Sara, in the experiences of the novel’s main character.  The whole thing’s making me feel just a little bitter.

Life’s trying to make me feel quite bitter right now, but at least nature’s still beautiful.  I will continue to be comforted by the sky, the trees, the birds, and the wildflowers, even long after everything else fails me.  And that’s exactly what will happen.  And that’s exactly what I’ll do.

On another positive note: guess what?  There’s a 95% chance I DON’T have lupus!  Yay!