I've been keeping very upbeat. Staying out of the house. Trying to secure a job, as my chosen career can't truly take off til October.

For the most part, it isn't hard. My family has "given up" on me so disappearing isn't too hard. Unless of course they want something, and then god forbid I don't answer the cell.

Still, I won't be dragged down. But it doesn't mean I don't have bad moments. This, is one of them. Nothing has changed. Except hearing my mother's voice on the my voicemail sounding all strained. I can't blame her, things haven't been very good, regardless of the eye opening life I'm living now. Things have been upside down. We may lose our home, which I've kept quiet for a while now, but as our deadline approaches I see no point in keeping it in anymore. It's not so catastrophic, just really really sad. Everyone has places to go when the time comes, and I'll find my place.

I can handle all of this. I know. None of it is too heavy. But the restlessness. I can't handle that. I've gone to the gym, I've been doing good with that. I've been trying to keep busy. When I don't have things to do, or the things I do don't work, I try and read. That's not working right now either, so I'm hoping just putting it down somewhere will help to clear my head. I don't know what I need to get down though. That's the problem. I'm upset about the house, yes, but that's not it. Everything at home, everything has changed. Not so much that the people have changed, but more in a I see everything differently sort of way. And although I know now what I have to do, and WANT to do it more then anything, and tho the feeling of tearing free is absolutely amazing...I can't help but see how much pain runs through my family. I'm detached from it now. No longer completely blinded by it. But I'll forever be tethered to it, as they are family. So I feel for them. And what's hardest is feeling that selfishness of knowing that I plan on walking away. There is no if. There's only when. And when is soon. And there is no guilt, per se. I want this. And that's what makes it selfish. I know I can't help them. I wish I could. There's nothing I can do that won't result in my own misery. And I've chosen me. And it feels...good. But...it hurts to see them hurting. It hurts to know they'll hurt even more when I leave. Especially my mom. She might even know it's the right thing for me to do. But it'll still hurt her. And it's that pain I wish I could avoid. There's no avoiding it. Nor any of the other things she'll find out about me along the way that I know she won't like...but maybe it's the wake up call she needs. None of them know me. Hell, I'm just starting to get to know me. Walking away will only be the first step. Eventually they'll see me for who I am. Or maybe not. But I'm starting to see me now, and I think it's where I need to focus. Me.

It sounds like it should be a dirty word. Me. It doesn't feel dirty. That's why I feel bad.

Happy belated Birthday, Ash!! Hope you had a hell of a time!!!

First time around for me at The Stakes. I know horses but I'm not normally a gambling girl so I didn't know much about racing. I do now. Still, no betting for me yesterday and I sort of regret it. It wouldn't have hurt to put $10 down and see what happens. There's always next time. In the meanwhile, it was a great time. Good friends, good wine, good times :)

Being around the horses made me miss riding. A lot. I was planning on heading over to Calumet today where I used to ride and see if the old owner is still around. Maybe she'll have some work I can pick up over there on weekends or something, just to get my hands dirty again. I'll have to see if my knees are up for it, maybe take a trail ride, see how they feel the next day before I commit to anything.

Not sure why the hell I'm up so early on a Sunday morning with nothing to do. But I've already cleaned up what was left in my room. Cleaned my bathroom, and showered. But suddenly I'm so completely unmotivated. Coffee. Let's see if that does the trick.

So as not to forget certain changes that have come about, and also just to keep me occupied, I figured I should put down some of the things I promised myself I would change, if not immediately, then in the most immediate future possible.

Memorial Day weekend consisted of an annual camping trip I've had to decline several years in a row. With no excuse of not going this year, I made my way to Del River with several good friends and came home with many more, and several revelations.

Talk about exactly what the doctor ordered. Things at home are beyond not great at the moment, and that weekend fell at precisely the point where you need to get the hell out, but a friends couch just won't do it. A whole weekend away with friends worked. A completely eye opening experience is what happened.

I'm moving out of here. Might not have a choice in about a month, but regardless, I am so out of here I can barely sit here now. I'm done with sitting at home and reading books 24/7 too. I will never stop reading, but I've been hiding behind books for waaaaay too long. Time to see everyone and everything. Heading to the Belmont Stakes tomorrow, as a matter of fact, with part of that camping group. And I'm going to continue going out. Whether it's to sit on a friends couch and chatter, or grab something cheap to eat, maybe a drink or two, I don't care. Just out. It's become way too much of a habit for me to panic last minute and make excuses and cancel on people. I didn't realize I was turning into that person, that always backs out at the last minute. I don't want to be that person anymore. I also don't want to be the person that takes entirely too much negativity from her family, no matter how well they mean. I'm sick of it. Enough.

There's a ton more, but the main thing is...I'm me. I'm not anybody else. I can't be what anyone else wants me to be. I won't be. And I can't worry about everybody else when I'm the one that needs my own attention at the moment. Sounds selfish, and sort of feels it too, but right now, I need to focus on me. Getting a job again (as sucky as the economy is), getting the hell out of this house (no matter the huge battle that will ensue), and taking care of me in other tiny but significant ways.

All it took was a properly placed, beyond necessary, vacation with the absolute right group of people.

And of course a few of my best friends who have been pointing this stuff out for so many years, they've been starting to turn blue in the face. I don't envy them the suckiness that has been the past 20, 15, 10 years. I've been spinning out of control for a very long time, and I know they've been pointing out the obvious, but I just didn't see it. With what's been happening at home, and having the chance to get away where there was NO service, so no communication with anyone if you didn't go out of your way to get it, and with all the years of their words repeating in my head...I finally opened my eyes.

Last night. I don't exactly remember the dream itself, just the overtone and snatches here and there. The feel of the dream overall was dark and ominous. Not surprising as that's most of my dreams.

At one point I was in a dark park, and I knew I wasn't supposed to be there. Felt like a curfew was being ignored, someone dangerous out. At another point I was in an old style town. Looked like something out of a western but brand new, small townhouses with store fronts near by, where everyone takes care of each other but when push comes to shove, they take care of their own. Then I remember being in my apartment, and now everything is futuristic. I'm referred to, I have no idea by whom, as not quite bright. They worry that I won't notice when something's not right, but even as I hear them, I know that they're wrong. I'm not dense, I just choose not to see. Then I'm being held hostage in my futuristic apartment by the same man that, I think, might have been why I shouldn't have been in the park. He keeps pulling out guns, but I keep taking them away from him, annoyed that he has them. Everyone else in the apartment is scared (I think. And I have no idea who they are. I think they're friends). The guy holding us hostage is olive skinned, tall, with short black curls, a bit of a 5oclock shadow, and though he is dangerous doesn't seem it to me. He's not alone, he has another guy with him, but I can't see him. The two of them keep walking around the apartment and pulling guns out of everything. Some of these guns are futuristic models, some are this shiny metal I can't identify, with huge barrels that are super light, and other details I can see but can't verbalize.
Anyway, at some point they think some weapons are hidden in my ceiling, as it's bulging down in one spot (i have no idea what that ceiling was made of, it was rubbary at that spot). They poke at it, and a bunch of apples fall out. First they think they're explosives and throw one to the side to test it out. When it doesn't explode, tall, dark, and curly take a bite out of another. At some point, me and curly get, uhh, intimate. In front of everyone else. Not that anyone is paying attention. Then he gets sick and we figure out it was the apple, but that passes. Then he has this clear strip, flat less then inch long, in his mouth. He pulls it out and puts the other end in my mouth. His end has this blue-ish then redish tint to it. My side starts to turn the same color, and it turns out to be some sort of futuristic pregnancy test. He thinks I'm pregnant, but my side doesn't stay "stable" so he's not sure.

Then my dog barked and I woke up. I'm not sure where the hell the dream was going. The one from the night before was much easier to interpret. But I only remember that everything is sepia tones, and something about being back at my school, a building in nyc, which is falling apart. The walls are all crumbly, everything is broken. I"m standing in the girls locker room-late day sunlit is slanting in from the twisted blinds offering a tiny bit of illumination, the floor tiles are all cracked and broken, roots and green things are somehow growing from them even tho i'm on the 5th floor. That one at least I can sort of understand, considering I just finished school last Saturday.

 

If you're done with those tired old sneaks, recycle 'em! I just found this Nike sneaker recycling link. I'm sure they probably take all brands of shoes, but you can always do a search to see if there are others who do it too.

Why did I never think about recycling my sneakers? I always donated them, though I felt awful about it cuz I pretty much wear (ware) my shoes to death.

Anyway, NIke recycling link below :)

www.letmeplay.com/reuseashoe)

I am now officially allergic to sunflower seeds. Not in a close my throat up and kill off breathing sort of way (like apples) but in a annoy me enough that I'll mostly leave them alone sort of way. Though admittedly I haven't had enough to know if that's true (the death by asphyxiation bit), and I'd rather not really test it anyway.

Last night I told a group of friends about my new allergy to sesame seeds.

One of them said that I'll eventually end up in a bubble one day. I laughed.

That prediction doesn't look to be too far off. I'm not laughing any more.

=/

So Joe Hill (Heart Shaped Box) is having a contest. Buy a book from an indie store and enter for a chance to win one of several awesome signed books.

Short version: Go to a local independent bookstore. Buy something. Save the receipt. Send a photo or scan of the receipt to this address: indie@joehillfiction.com. Make sure either your e-mail or your receipt includes the name and phone number of the bookstore in question.

More details including some FAQ's at http://joehillfiction.com/

From Joe's site...

feel the same way I do about author's reading their own books (when it comes to actually listening to a book instead of reading one)?

I have this thing about listening to certain books, especially if the book is about a particular subject (such as Stephen King's book On Writing) as opposed to a fictional book. I like to hear the actual author read it. See where he/she puts emphasis on words/sentences...you get something when you listen to their intonation (is that the right word?).

Same doesn't always go for fictional books, I mean, I'm sure listening to someone like James Masterson read a novel can be amazing, but if I'm listening to a book (which isn't usually the case) I'm totally interested in hearing the book the way the author hears it in their head.

Anyone else got an opinion on that?

I'm a huge fan of this illustrator. He's done some amazing illustrations for many an author, including Stephen King, Ray Bradbury, Jim Butcher, and many others...mostly in the fiction/scifi category. Some of his stuff is a little disturbing (like a man pressed up against the window, looking in on a little girl coming her hair), but I love his work!

http://www.vincentchong-art.co.uk/illustration1.html

that's a link to his portfolio, but there's much more in the archives. Take a look for yourselves!

Couple of samples:

"...most Internet users seem to have the attention span of grasshoppers."  -Stephen King

This was my away message when a friend of mine IM'd me today.
The conversation continued as follows: (all names have been changed to protect the innocent...though you know me, so why I changed my IM name is beyond my understanding. Mango is what Miss Shenanigans calls me. Henceforth, she shall be known as Sh'nanigans...yea yea, I never claimed to be original).

[19:16] Sh’nanigans: LOL, i am so making that my new signature
[19:17] Mango(me): don't you just love him
[19:18] Sh’nanigans: oh yea, i mean dude was like the very first author i ever thought about reading
[19:18] Sh’nanigans: only he seems so normal which makes him even scarier
[19:18] Mango: he's incredible
[19:18] Mango: funny at ALL the wrong moments. which makes them the exact right moments
[19:19] Sh’nanigans: like wes craven looks creepy you know, but stephen doesnt so he kind of embodies his art inthat way
[19:19] Mango: i don't know
[19:19] Mango: i'd love to meet him and yet...
[19:20] Mango: but he's just too damn nonchalant about these creepy ass shadows that he spins
[19:20] Mango: i just can't imagine what goes on in his mind
[19:20] Mango: or if he's ever truly scared himself
[19:21] Mango: written something and 2 minutes after writing it going, "Oh shit. Well. That's gonna keep me up tonight."

Seriously. I wonder if he actually does that?

I swear there was a reason for this post. Damned if I can remember what it was. Well. That's gonna keep me up tonight."   :)

Woke up feeling drugged, missed my morning workout (which was supposed to be my new start up since I've been MIA from the gym for almost 2 months now). Spent most of the day roaming around the house unable to get a handle on anything, with a dull headache that wouldn't quit, and a little bit of nausea building up. Couldn't decide if I should go to clinic or not, but as nausea went away and the headache chased away with a couple of tylenol I decided to go.

Due to terrible weather, the train before mine was late. I depend on that train being on time because the people that leave the station make room for me. So I missed my first train because there was literally no place to park (legally). Finally get parking, get downstairs, only to hear the announcer say that the next train had been canceled (someone had a medical emergency on the train so they stopped it one station back). The 3rd train will get me in too late for my first client.

I'm on the phone trying to figure out if I should be calling in late or out, and my cell phone tells me I bettter get whatever I have to say out quickly because it's about to die. Of course it is.

And just as I'm deciding that my clients will have to deal with a substitute for the evening, a train starts to roll into the station, 20 minutes too early to be the 3rd train. The conductor has his head sticking out his little window, so I yell out, "Is this the 5:06?" God bless his heart, he didn't even skip a beat, looked at his watch and yelled back (as he was slowly rolling away), "It's the 5:13 today."

Apparently this train heard the dilemma and was sent to the rescue. Only a few minutes late.

It was still iffy that I was going to make it on time, but I made it, with just enough time to make sure my room was ready for my first client.

Oh, forgot one minor detail. Because I knew I wasn't going to make it in time to change (who wants to wear WHITE pants on the train and walking in the city), I decided to change on the train. Of course this wasn't the usual train with a restroom in every other car, so I did it in my seat. Almost got caught by the conductor too. But hey, what's life with a little risk taking?   ; P

Now, I'll attempt some sleep, as it is 2:30 in the morning.  I'm not sure anything I've written above is clear, because my vision alone is fuzzy. Can't imagine my brain is doing so much better.

- Depeche Mode

I've heard this song a million times over, but for some reason that line never ever gets old. I haven't heard the song in a while and when my ipod shuffled to it it was a nice surprise. One that spurred on another chapter I might use. Of course, the timing was terrible and I couldn't start writing right then and there (i was driving), and I still haven't had a chance to do it.

I have to say that mostly, the reason nothing has been jotted down is that because I feel like I'm messing it all up. I just don't have the skills to put it all down in the way that I'm seeing it. The story that is. I know, skills are honed, they take time, but in the meanwhile what? I massacre my own attempts?

Living on your breath

what an amazing line.

It's very possible that my frustration and quick-to-quit attitude on writing was a result of writers block disguised in it's trickster cloak. I will not fall for that again so the despair that set in due to said writers block can simply go find itself another home in the future. And although bits and pieces of its nest will undoubtedly remain behind, I will not give it a chance to roost upon its return. And it will return, as I'm one for mood swings, and my extreme density (at times) will probably hinder my ability to recognize despair in all its glory.

Recognizing writers block under it's invisible cloak, however, has not made it poof away in a cloud of smoke, no matter how hard I will it to be. It has cleared up some, but it seems to have once more blocked my way. I'll simply have to put aside my writing, perhaps start something new for the time being, or just focus on school related activities.

Speaking of school, despair, that wretched beast, has been shooed away and hopefully confidence will take its place in the future. I have since been working on my clients steadily, and though I see that I may not be able to do much for one of my clients (his problems arise mostly at work, refusing to reappear while he's with me. That's a good thing in a way, but no too good, for I can't assess where specifically - muscle/sinew/etc wise - the problems lay. But my other client, seems to be benefiting from her weekly treatments. Short lived benefits, but due to the her daily stressors, there's simply nothing I can do for that but continue to put her at ease for the hour that I have her every week.

I'm studying massage therapy, and for the first time today, I actually got a chance to practice medical massage. ...And I just don't think I have what it takes.

When I first started this program, I thought I'd be different about it. Work hard, get straight A's - not for the grade itself, I mean actually learn this stuff and not just what I get through sitting in class. And although I did actually study a bit...it wasn't at all what it should have been. I studied some. And although I was working full time for the first 2 semesters, the last 2 semesters I've had all the time in the world to put into my studying. But I half assed it. I half ass everything.

And tonight didn't go as planned. The client on the table probably doesn't know that, but I know that. I felt completely clueless, and talking to others I finally realized how much I just didn't do. I'm trying not to give up. But I'm feeling really stupid and hopeless. Not stupid stupid. I know I'm not stupid. But if I can get A's and B's without really studying, I'm not stupid. But if I know I'm capable of getting straight A's if I put more then just a little bit of effort in...why the hell do I sabotage myself?! I skated through the past year, just like I skated through high school, just like I skated through collage...barely putting anything into anything. Not learning anything except what first sticks. Waste of money. Waste of time.

I thought I found something I felt differently about. But it's not everything else I've tried. It's me.

Happy Birthday, Ender!

I do hope you had a wonderful day. Hell! Make it a wonderful weekend!

I fell asleep and had the wildest dream....

I was in a place with a thousand rooms, and so many people. But we all seemed somewhat like children, only not, and we all seemed to be made of craypa or oil pastels . On our faces were painted clouds or wings, all of them different, some just whorls of color but you could see it was a cloud hidden there. I was in a happy but I was also sad, but I was almost unaware of any of it. I was in a room.
A man, not a child, bursts inside, he has dark hair, beautiful dark eyes, and a voice that makes me smile. He talks, begging me that it doesn't have to be this way. Desperate that I come with him. On a child's whim I laugh and decide to follow. He vanishes, but I know that he's outside this place of a hundred thousand rooms. Waiting. Waiting.
I'm laughing as I start to fly and float amongst these children, all like me, but all different. And there is this small man, he's animated with a slight slant to the eyes, and he's chasing me, reaching up to me as I float above him. He begs me to come down, to stay. He's ruined if I leave. Everyone will follow. I only laugh and fly higher, pulling my legs into me and away from his reach. I remind him he's not my father, he's not my keeper, I am free to leave. He silently agrees and disappears.
With joy, I fly circles by the doorway out. Instead of going out, I fly back into the many chambered halls. I can see now that it's a giant tent I'm in. Columns of white walls billow every which way. Gleefully I grab a couple of smiling girls with me, lifting them off their feet. They linger from my hand, one on one side, and two, one holding hands with the other, from my other hand. They giggle, and I say, "come! come!" They will follow me, and then I let them go. They float back to the ground, laughing and singing, and skipping.
Room from room I fly in and out of, and there's of movement and color that tells me some of these rooms are occupied. In one, someone is kneeling and angry, but it's a childs anger, only fleeting. In another, someone is asking to be hit, but the other in the room does not do it. All of these, just shapes and shadows, all bathed in a painter's blues.
I float into a room, where two men are entwined, one brown, one white, their colors swirled together. I lean on an ever flowing wall, then curl into a ball, sitting up. The brown one comes up to me and offers himself, he barely touches me and I come apart with ecstasy. I laugh and fly out of the room, and hear both men/children laughing happily behind me.
I fly even higher, lightly pushing aside one white curtain, then another, and another, entering millions of rooms. One smaller, one larger, one full of fog, one full of laughter.
I fly higher and higher and I laugh. My dark haired man is waiting for me outside. I laugh a child's laugh....

And wake up.

I haven't changed many things, but just having finals be done with I feel a little bit better. Still a little out of it, semi ready to crash (couldn't sleep, and got up early to finally do some studying...talk about your last minute), excited about being done with finals, happy about a friend who just found out she'll be getting engaged soon, and ready to part and sleep all at the same time. I am planning on seeing the friend that just gave me the good news tonight, but a part of me just wants to say screw it and just disappear until school starts again.

I know that's not healthy, and I won't do it if my will power will hold up. But it's there. And I wish it wasn't. And yes, I have considered medications, but I'm not at the point yet. Perhaps just meds so that I can sleep at night. That would entitle me making sure I get in bed early enough though, as you need a certain amount of hours sleep for the meds to wear off.

Anyway, finals are done! And the point of this was to say that I will be making the attempt to put myself together over the next few weeks. It's cliche, I know, but I don't want to start the New Year in a dark place. I don't intend to make a complete 180 by then, but just...be a little bit lighter.

I think that's a goal I can manage... With a little help from my friends :)

Now, time to turn the heat up. It's freaking cold in this house!