very short of effulgent

i've tried to keep it all inside and just let it go, but i just can't. here goes: i fucking hate evanescence. you know, the band? i just don't understand why anyone could like them. the girl lead singer can't carry a tune and the music is just horrible. the lyrics touch on some sad and deep brooding that i can usually appreciate, but it's whiney and lame and just gets on my nerves. i just hate them! every note, every song. it makes me cringe everytime i hear them. damn! i feel better now. okay, i'm gonna go.

obsessed with veronica mars

when i went to see theresa in the hospital in s.a., she loaned me the 1st season of veronica mars. ever since then i have been addicted. i mean, it's bad! it's been less than 3 weeks and i have already seen the entire 1st season at least 3 times, certain episodes about a dozen times, rented all of the 2nd season, watched it twice and downloaded the soundtrack from itunes. (really good music, by the way!). oh, and then i bought both seasons. both! i am completely obsessed. i am pretty practical with my money and generally don't like to invest in buying t.v. series on dvd (even though i love them) because i feel like i shouldn't be spending so much money on things that are luxuries. it usually takes me months of deliberation and lots and lots of neuroses to make a big purchasing decision like buying dvd's, but i just couldn't help it! i bought two! it's just so good! like, amazingly, incredibly good!

of course, now that i have become hopelessly devoted to the show, theresa tells me that it might not make it to the end of its third season. the new cw has promised a full season of the show, but has, so far, only ordered half a season. what the fuck?!?!? i guess it's never done as well as they had hoped and the network isn't sure if the ratings will be high enough to keep it for the whole year. i can't believe how stressed this has made me. i will be so sad if the show doesn't make it. as sad and sick as it sounds, i'll be heartbroken. it's strange to be so attached to people who don't even exist. they aren't even real, but i love their world. maybe i love it so much because i just want to live in their world and not my own. whatever. it doesn't matter the reason. the show rocks and i just want it to go on for a little longer. i don't think that's asking for too much...

new paint job

my apartment complex is getting a much needed paint job. by saying "complex," i exaggerate. it's two little two-story buildings that contain 28 efficiency apartments. it's cute and perfect in it's tinyness, but i wouldn't call it a complex. anyway, ever since i moved in here about 3 and a half years ago, the buildings have needed paint, and badly. it's not the nicest of places, but for efficiencies, these are kind of cute. 2 big windows, a balcony, vaulted ceilings on the top floor. we even have a pool. but on the outside, the place has been a little shabby. i never minded, but it's pretty noticeable. and it was always something the tenants and i could bitch about when our manager was bugging us. "yeah, she can't bitch at us, if she wants the place to look nicer maybe she should paint it!" or something like that. well now, we can't say that anymore. (there are plenty of other things to bitch about, so the tenants are still gonna be fine, though.)
pretty soon, the paint job that has taken far too long will be completed and we'll have fresh, bright white walls and a blue-ish green trim. i would never have chosen these colors personally, but they work. they're bright and kind of tropical looking and it's new. just looking at the one side that they have completed makes me feel revived. yay! new paint job! and it only took 3 and a half years.

big, little death

my best friend theresa was pregnant and just lost her baby. "lost her baby" sounds vague and distant, like lock and key words to keep the horrible and painful reality far away. the truth is cruel and sad and brutal and just makes me sick. just a week ago, theresa was expecting to have her baby in february, and went in to her 2nd routine sonogram. that's when she and her sister and mother found out that the baby was no longer alive. i've heard of miscarriages before. every woman knows of at least one woman who's suffered such a horrible blow. but i guess i never really thought about the fact that this baby that was living and growing inside, this child that is now dead has to come out somehow. the horrible and just downright tragically, sickly cruel fact is that after going through the emotional shock and pain of the loss of a child, the women have to go through the pain of childbirth anyway. all of that pain and work and trauma and at the end of it, all they have is death. it just makes me so sad. i am more upset about this than when my grandmother died. i am sad for theresa. heartbroken for her. i mourn for her and her son that didn't make it.
now, she's in the hospital recovering over the pain of having to take pills to induce labor, jerking her body into overwhelmingly painful and sudden contractions so that she could actually give birth to her dead baby at 7pm on monday. now she's got vicodan to ease the physical pain and some of the emotional one as well, but soon, the meds will be gone and the pain will settle in. and i hurt for it. i cry because of it and all i can do is try to be there when she needs it and send her the loving and healing energy that she'll need to get through this. and hope she knows that i'm here for her. i love you, theresa! and i'm here for you!

red neck brilliance

i hung out with my friend jake yesterday and we went to dave and busters and then saw talladega nights. it was the funniest movie i've seen in a long time. it might be up there with one of the funniest movies i've ever seen. i can't remember laughing so hard at another movie. like, ever. i know there have been a few others, but talladega nights was freaking brilliant. such excellent red neck/country/white trash references! complete with a crystal gayle t-shirt and a boat in the driveway. even better was a french version of "paint it black." this movie rocks! i'm laughing inside just thinking about it. that's all i got, but man, the movie rocks! yeehaw!

gentle port aransas

my 29th birthday was almost 2 weeks ago and to celebrate, my friend susan and i went to port aransas this monday andgot back yesterday. it was beautiful. hardly anyone was there. it was so quiet and peaceful and amazing. its been so long since i've had a break, i've been pushing myself so hard for so long that i had forgotten what rest and peace felt like. it was strange to feel the softness of the sea, the gentleness of the breeze, the passion in the waves and remember what it was and how so vital those things are. and also beauty. it's easy to forget how beautiful anything and everything is if you lay still enough to just see it. funny to realize that the beauty we seek is always there, but we have to be in the right state to see it.

it makes me think about love and relationships in some way. that in order to find the love we want, we have to be the love that we want. we have to be the person that we want. like, really, the most important thing is to fall in love with yourself. it sounds trite like something i heard from a well-meaning woman on oprah trying to teach girls about love and men, saying "love comes from within". girls hear that shit, (i did and, on some level, i believed it, i just couldn't figure out how to go about with the self-loving) but i don't think a lot of us really get it when we're younger. it's something you have to learn, i guess. but now, on my stretched-out official 29th birthday week, i think i actually get she was trying to say. and i finally feel like i might have grown up in ways that were under the surface. like, i am my own person, and i could actually have a real relationship with a man without completely fucking it up. (even as scared and nervous as it would still make me.) that's progress! it makes me feel like i could be a better friend too. and the pressure is off at the same time.

anyway, the relationship and love part is an afterthought, but it's all connected. really, i just feel like i finally remember what the point of the struggle is. it's about laying on the beach, breathing in the soft air, with the gentle breeze caressing your face, listening to the song of the wind and waves and in that moment, being where you are and being grateful for it. being grateful for the life i live and feeling that it's good enough. and remembering that the peace i seek is there all the time, i just have to put myself in the right place to find it.

blog of light and darkness

so, these past few years have been intense and i guess there's been a lot of dark spots, and a lot of dark things i didn't know were there have come to the surface. i've started to feel the need to be brutally honest about the angst and struggle and darkness i feel, because it's as much a part of me as anything else and i've hidden it for a long time. (at least i never allowed myself to admit when things were bad. even if it was obvious.) still, the dark and bad things are not all of me and i've realized that i really need to stop just using the blog as a way to "embrace the dark" without letting out the light as well. it's not really very good for me. so, i've decided to change my blog and write about the good and bad and mundane and crazy and silly and all of it because THAT is who i really am. and i don't think my current blogging patterns really reflect that.

i'm a believer that you get back the energy you put into the world and, to a certain degree, you can affect things in your life by changing the way you approach it. a lot of people would claim that that's what "magic" really is. anyway, things get stressful for me and i have a lot going on, and it's easy for me to say everything sucks and that i'm just tired and stressed all the time, but it's not really the truth. i AM tired and i AM stressed, but i'm also accomplishing a lot and learning a lot about the way that i want to live my life (and how i don't). there's a big learning curve there! but, ultimately, it's all about balance and it's better for me to live in that balance.
my wonderful friend carl wrote me a letter about 8 years ago when he was moving away from austin that i still have. in it is a quote from a taoist text that still seems to sum up what i'm talking about:

"Damnation is in you. So too is salvation. You are the prince of darkness. You are also the prince of light. Neither can be cast out of yourself. The valiant coping with that dichotomy is the poignancy of this life."

so, anyway, here it is: my newly altered approach to the whole blog thing:
my blog of darkness is now my blog of light and darkness.

the truth about mashed potatoes

my mom and sister and i have always been responsible for making thanksgiving and christmas dinner. we make the same thing for both occasions. turkey and stuffing (yum!) and waldorf salad and sweet potatoes and green bean casserole and, of course, mashed potatoes. we've tried to make homemade mashed potatoes for years, but they never actually turned out right. they were always a bit too dry and bland and kind of chunky. eventually, we switched to a mixture of half real mashed potatoes and half instant mashed potatoes.

it seems to have worked out better because instant mashed potatoes rock! the ones i like best are the idahoan ones that come in the red pouch. (very fashionable too, i might add) they are, by far, superior. they come in all kinds of flavors -- garlic and herb, four cheese, buttery homestyle -- and all you have to do is add 2 cups of boiling water and let them sit for 1 minute. how fucking cool is that! the only problem is that, somehow, i feel that we're cheating the holidays a bit with this whole "easy way out" instant mashed potatoes thing. you know? like christmas and thanksgiving have to be at least a little bit about stress and being overwhelmed and working a bit too hard when it's supposed to be a vacation and the instant mashed potatoes part of it just doesn't fit. oh, and i guess it's much easier to be proud of something you made from scratch... whatever!

anyway, i was watching a new cooking show on pbs. it has johnny carino on it. (i didn't think that there was an actual guy named johnny carino, but it's true!) he's a chef and he was explaining how the reason that mashed potatoes get all clumpy and dry is because we add COLD milk and COLD butter to HOT potatoes and it doesn't combine. if you heat the milk and butter first and THEN add the potatoes, then all is good. i couldn't believe what i was hearing! it was right there the whole time and i didn't even know it! i feel like i found the golden ticket. (well, actually, that would be way cooler, but this is still pretty neat.) now, i can't wait to go home (or wherever it is we're going to be) and volunteer to make homemade mashed potatoes. i just can't wait! they'll be the best damn mashed potatoes we ever had...and i can take the instant mashed potato pouches back home with me to eat with the next round of star wars books. (there are TONS of them. i'll be set!)

inside the box

sometimes i stay inside my little efficiency apartment for days and hardly come out at all. i don't see the sun, i don't change out of my pajamas. i just stay inside and hide. sometimes i'll go pick up food, but sometimes i just make really creative foods with the stuff i have. that's when i whip out the instant mashed potatoes or the easy mac that i got when i got my wisdom teeth out. it's like i just don't want to deal with any of it. like i'd rather stay in my apartment forever and never talk to anyone. just read my star wars books like i did all day today. it's only the nagging somewhere inside that snaps me out of it. and the fact that, eventually, i have to go to work at the bar. (right now anyway.)

sometimes this way of being really worries me. i get this way sometimes, but it's been worse lately. i know i should get out more. i know i should engage more. but sometimes i'm just so tired that i can't bring myself to do it. like today. i did work at the bar thursday, friday and saturday nights and i already write and do my new calendars editing job every other free time i have. it could just be fatigue. but it's not. it's something else that i can't quite put my finger on. there's something up with me lately and i can't figure it out. it's more than depression, it's more than being tired. it's something else. like a virus that won't go away because it's not done yet. not done with me yet. so much that's under the surface that even i don't understand feels like it's rising up in me. it feels like grief, but i don't understand. i feel like i'm grieving a loss. like someone broke up with me, like i was just punched in the gut. but there's been no one for so long it's not even funny.

it just doesn't make sense. i guess in some ways it does. i'm doing something totally new and it's scary. i'm going to take on more new challenges in about a month that will be really good for me, but scares the shit out of me.

maybe i'm too hard on myself and i really just need a break. i'd guess that's a good part of it too, but there's more to it than that. i'm just tired and i want it to go away. i know soon i'll fight it and it'll go away, but right now, i just want to stay inside and eat my mashed potatoes and read my star wars books and just let it all go. maybe i'll go on a walk in the sun tomorrow. once my mashed potatoes run out.

mommy dearest

i've been working so hard lately and it doesn't seem to end. when my life gets this way it always makes me depressed and feel trapped and lonely and like all i have in my life is harshness and mess. i just want to run away. and really, i just want my mommy to hug me and kiss me and tell me that everything's going to be okay. i really miss my mom. i know she's probably having a great time in india and egypt and malaysia. she finally got to get away from her life in houston that always tired and overwhelmed her. it made her sick. i'm glad that she's able to be in a place where she can rest and not have to work, but to tell you the truth, it feels like she ran away from me too. like i am as much a part of her life that she couldn't handle as the rest of it and now she's free. i know she loves me, but still... maybe i'm too dependent on my mother. i mean, i haven't actually lived in the same city as she has for years and i've always had my own life, but it really bothers me that i can't access her when i want to, i can't call her when i want to hear her voice. i can't go see her when i want to get away. i just really miss her. i know i'm an adult and in some ways, i really need to grow up, but i'm tired and sometimes i just want to lay on the couch with my mom while she holds me until i fall asleep. maybe i just need a vacation. maybe i just need a man. or maybe i just need to get some more sleep, but i just want my mom to make it all go away - even though i know that's not how it works.

i'm a fucking genius!!

so, i took the "Classic IQ Test" on tickle.com and my IQ was 140. that's way up there, man! it's in the "genius or near genius" category. i mean, it's at the cut-off point between "highly superior intelligence" and "genius or near genius," so i'm thinkin' it's "near genius" for me, but i'll take near genius! that's close enough! now, i'm not saying that i know for sure if this test is an accurate assessment of my intelligence. it is, after all, a test on the internet. on tickle.com no less. i'm just saying that boy, do i feel smart! i can take over the entire freaking world without batting an eye! it's global domination for me with all of this intelligence i got going on! now, i can just look smugly at everyone knowing how much better than them i am and laughing on the inside as i put a ring of kryptonite around a big crystal that expands in water and shoot it off in a rocket to rule the world! and superman can never stop me! ha! anyway, i'm sure eventually, i will learn of the bogus-ness of the test i just took and have to relinquish my near genius crown, but while it lasts i'm going to enjoy it! now, where's that mozart?!

forever 29

i'm about to turn 29 and it's kind of wigging me out. it doesn't help that i look young. people assume that i'm still in college and ask me about my classes and i have to tell them that i graduated from college 7 years ago. it used to be something i enjoyed hearing. the "do you go to school?" question. then, i could be the big girl and say with glee, "no, i graduated blank years ago." but as the number keeps growing, as it's already been a year since my 10th year high school reunion, it starts to take on new meaning. whereas before, i sensed amazement at the fact that i might have more wisdom than i appeared to, now i feel people thinking, "what have you been doing with yourself?" like all of the sudden, my time has run out and now, i'm too old to be where i am in my life. too old to not really date. too old to not be settled. too old to live like i do. to be searching. to still be so much like a child. i mean, i know i've got issues and a lot of deep, dark stuff that has held me back in the way i go through life, but i never realized how much until times like this. when i compare the way that other people live their lives and the distant way that i live mine. all i can say is that i know. and i'm working on it. it's all i can do, really, while i watch another year go by.

where bartenders go to die

being back in the bar scene, i find that so many bartender stories are all the same. they started working at a bar when they were really young and just never left. they either never knew what they wanted to do or never felt like worrying about it and then eventually, time passed and they became stuck. i see a lot of them, stuck bartenders. not bitter or angry, but just kind of chilling out, not knowing what to do, not doing really anything but hanging out and drinking and working at a bar. (i did this for a little while too, but it was temporary and made me horribly depressed.) i don't sense much despair from most bartenders like this, but i can't help but feel like they are capable of more than this, like they actually want more, but just can't figure out what it is or where to get it. sometimes i wonder if some of them will be stuck there forever. i guess it's not so much a bartender thing as a human condition. i know all kinds of people that aren't particularly happy where they are, but can't seem to work up the energy to try something new. but i notice it with bartenders moreso. maybe it's because bartenders make so much money compared to other customer service jobs that they can be comfortable enough to stay there and don't actually have to move forward. maybe it's because they can drink a lot and just numb the problem away. but it seems like it's a tribe and people don't really want to leave it. like they'd just be like the elders that decide to be left behind one day and end up wandering the forest all alone until they die. still, eventually most of them go somewhere. they do something else. i just wonder what most people do when they leave. do they get some vision of their goal and leave the bar behind to embark on an exciting life adventure, or do they just fade away into other jobs that still aren't what they really wanted? do they ever find fulfillment or happiness? do they ever find peace? does the superficial and shallow way that bartenders have to go through their work days start to kill all sense of depth? can most bartenders function in the real world? what happens to all of us when we leave? where do we end up? where do we go when the bartender in us dies?

roomy with a view

i've lived alone for such a long time now that i feel like i've gotten a bit crotchedy. i want things the way i want them. i don't like people messing with my stuff. i'm annoyed when people just "stop by" my apartment. my place is a mess. i really am an old man.

i had always thought that i would never live with anyone ever again unless it was with the man that i knew i would eventually marry and even then, it would take me a long time to get there. but lately, i've been thinking that it might just be time. time for me to move out of my efficiency apartment and into a place with an actual living thing. i thought maybe i just needed a cat, but that's not enough. i need to have human interaction. i need to have someone to talk to. someone to hang out with. i actually need a roommate. it's really weirding me out, this whole concept, but there it is. i'm ready to do it! eeeeek!

the fuego

every time i run into my ex, it's always the same thing. i get all giggly and happy to see him, make plans with him that he never keeps or even acknowledges, get horribly devastated and depressed -- sometimes even get sick -- and then start to blame myself. i start to wonder what i did wrong. start feeling ugly, fat and unattractive. start running through the relationship highlights in my head and trying to make sense of it all. i really just get all dwelly and can't let go, wondering all the time, "what's wrong with me?" and then it hits me. after dwelling and brooding and crying, after driving past his dad's office, after looking inside every green vw jetta that drives by -- even though, he doesn't even live in austin anymore. after turning into a pathetic, psycho mess, it starts to rise up in me. the fuego. the fire. the raging, storming gust of power that hides, latent and crouching, and then punches its way out without even a warning. wrong with me?!? what the fuck is wrong with him! when did laying it on thick to draw me in, inappropriately propositioning me, making definite plans and completely blowing me off become an acceptable way to treat someone? when did somebody else's jerky actions turn into an excuse to analyze and pick apart my inadequacies? when did hanging out at my bar for hours, being all huggy, coming back to see me the same night, only to then pretend like all is casual become my fucking shortcoming? fuck that!

i know that there are two sides to any relationship dysfuction. i accept the responsibility of letting him think he could get away with his behavior. i'll take it. it's true. all of us girls sometimes have to accept that we were more than just the victims. sometimes we played equal part in the demise of our relationship. but sometimes the simple truth is that your stupid, immature, dumbass ex boyfriend is just a teasing, self-absorbed, selfish jerk that fucked it up all on his own. sometimes your ex just needs to grow the fuck up! it's fair to say that the boy's got problems. deep ones. serious issues, a shitty childhood, unresolved pain, an inability to communicate or deal that has blocked his emotional development and probably stalled out his deep relationships with others. i've read the psychology books. i give him that. i can feel it there everytime i see him. the pain. the loss. the emptiness. a kind of awkwardness and confusion. all hidden in there. and i do really feel for him. but come the fuck on!

there is a point in everyone's life where we take the cards we're dealt. things we had no control over. things that fucked us up. we take these things and we decide to do something with them. as children we have no control over what happens to us. we can't protect ourselves, can't nurture ourselves the way we need to be nurtured, don't know how to take care of ourselves. and if we're not given what we need, we learn to cope in the best way we can and often times develop behaviors that initially protect us, but eventually become dysfunctional ways of dealing. all of this is true. and it's sad. but as adults, we have to learn to take care of ourselves. my friend chris says that once we become adults, our issues become our responsibilty and no one else's, and it's up to us to figure them out and deal with them. our responsibilty. our very own. so fucking deal, ex boyfriend! deal! go to therapy. go to na. get some help. fix your issues, but keep your shit away from me! the fuego's all fired up and it's not done burning. the firey beast is awake and you are no longer safe. watch out! thank god for heat! i'm starting to feel myself again. thank fucking god!!

test test

My 7 Dream Jeopardy Categories updated

My 7 Dream Jeopardy Categories

Pure Microserf style, at the moment:

My 7 Dream Jeopardy Categories would be:

1) Random Movie Knowledge
2) Propagation of Succulent plants
3) Pop Song Lyrics
4) Transitional Periods and The Existential Dilemma
5) Allergies, Colds and other Ways to Lose Your Voice
6) General Neuroses
7) Getting the most out of your TV antenna

Final Jeopardy:
Mythology, the Buffiverse, or Star Wars

bar not so tender

well, i started bartending at maggie mae's again. the bar i started at 4 years ago and quit about 2 and a half years ago. i decided that since i did actually get that part-time writing and editing gig that it would be a good idea to go back to the bar and have more time (and more money) to work on my writing and get a better job or maybe even a number of jobs that were a bit less maddening than working retail at a book store. all i'd have to work is three nights a week to cover my bills. it had taken me a long time to reach this decision and i wasn't totally stoked about it, but i had made my peace with it, saying that it was only temporary and that i'm really starting to lose it with my total lack of free time and rest. i mean, it's getting really bad. anyway, i know a lot of the people there still, but really only two people that worked there back in the day actually work there now, so even though it felt like going back, i comforted myself with the thought that it was different. things in my life were different. i was a different person than i was before and i wouldn't get bogged down in it like i did in the past.

i wasn't prepared for how strange it would feel, though. i didn't foresee the flashback of memories, the strange mixture of loneliness and nostalgia. didn't anticipate the extreme competitive-ness that pervades the bar. i had totally forgotten about my weekly loss of voice due to it being so loud. and nothing could have prepared me for the ex-boyfriend and former maggie mae's employee that would walk through the door on my 3rd night back and make me feel happy and then horrible all over again (i'm sure there'll be a blog for that story later).

i feel like maybe all of this is a sign. like it's not going to be as easy as i thought. like i need to find a job at another bar first and a completely different job sooner than i thought. i need to be in a place that doesn't bring all of this shit up for me. maybe a nice dive bar, a real neighborhood place that you don't have to scream in to have a conversation. i guess it's true that you can never go back. maybe it'll be easier once i get rid of one of my three jobs (which i do tomorrow...). or maybe it's just time to move on. maybe i really am a different person, just much more different than i thought. it makes me long for the times when i couldn't wait to go to work at maggie mae's. when jake and jay and jim and larry and gerimie and maggie and i all had so much fun working and drinking and being together. when i used to flirt with brian (the former barback and aforementioned ex) and he was so sweet and i got so excited just thinking about him. before i found out that pretty much everyone but me also liked their cocaine. before brian pulled away. before everyone quit or got fired (mostly fired) one by one and left me there all alone.

call it melodramatic, but there it is. my therapist says that depression can be good when you listen to it because it tells you something's wrong. well, lately, something has been really wrong and i really do know it. i just want to make it right. i just wish things could stay the same when they're good and when i'm happy sometimes. or maybe i just want to know how to find my own current and future happiness. all i know is it's not here, not at the bar and i know the drill: i may as well push forward because i can't go back. life is change. the four noble truths. blah-dy blah. blah-dy blah blah blah.

The Dark

No matter how much time passes, no matter how long in therapy, no matter what is going on in my life, it always comes back to this. This tight feeling in the pit of my stomach. This feeling of nausea and heaviness. This darkness. I can't get away from it. I work through my past. I head toward a more fulfilling life. I try to get over the wrongs of my childhood. I heal from the pain in my past. I get better and stronger. I feel more solid and calm. But I am a mess. Sometimes I really don't see the point. Sometimes I can see no joy in my life. I just feel this thing inside me. Lurking in the crevices of my body, of my soul. The dark that wants to consume me. Wants to devour me whole. I don't want to let it, but I'm just so tired. Tired of hurting. Tired of fighting the dark.

fuck benefits

it has been about 6 years since i had a job with benefits, but finally, i have them again through barnes & noble. the only trouble is that i don't actually make enough money at barnes & noble to afford paying my bills and rent already, much less my benefits or the copay on my benefits! and then there's the time that i need to be spending writing and making contacts so that I can get the hell out of barnes & noble in general. so, i have an opportunity to do some writing/editing work that doesn't pay enough, but would give me more experience and at the same time would allow me to get the fuck away from working retail. i'd have to bartend again, but that would only take up 3 nights of my life and i'd be able to make enough money - almost twice the money than i'd make working 40 hours at barnes & noble - and have the time that i need to write more - i hope! anyway, i feel like it's what i need to do to move to the next level. i HATE working at b&n right now and i just don't have enough hours in the day, but the thought of giving up my benefits when i just got them freaks me the fuck out. what the hell is it with benefits that make you a slave to the man for all of eternity. i've heard people talking about them. they say that benefits make them feel safe and i'd like to make fun, but obviously, this deep sick nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach at the thought of being without them again is no joke! what the hell! i'm trapped by benefits and it's all crap. i'm a sickly sort of person, sure! but come the fuck on!! nothing can be worth all of this stress. nothing but the fear of being caught in a horrible accident where you aren't sure you're going to live and you're praying to whatever god just to make it through and you actually survive only to owe thousands of dollars because you gave up your benefits. shit!! i've got to get free of this before i decide to move to the burbs and find a nice husband to take care of me. i've just made appointments with the dentist, the doctor, the eye doctor and allergist to get them all taken care of in an attempt to use my benefits and then get out! i will not be a slave to benefits! i will not be a slave to benefits! maybe if i keep saying it, i'll actually mean it.....fuck!

always greener

Well, everyone, I am officially a professional freelance writer! I just got my first check in the mail for articles and work that I did for an Austin-based publication called Good Life Magazine. Yay! It wasn't a lot of money and it certainly won't pay the bills, but it's a start and it makes me feel like I'm actually doing something. Actually, that's a complete and total lie. I still question where I'm going. Still want to be somewhere else. Still don't know exactly what I'm doing. But I guess I have a sense of accomplishment that I haven't had in a while. It reminds me that I'm not just a bookseller at Barnes & Noble. I wasn't put here on earth just to kiss people's asses and ask them if they want to save 10% with a member card, or help them figure out the name of a book that they read about in last week's usa today that has the word "the" in the title and has a guy in it...("uh, i know it's called 'the something!' and it's got a blue or green cover. or maybe it's grey!")
I'm starting to rethink this whole working at a bookstore thing too. I'm just not making enough money. In Austin, people that work at Barnes & Noble make $7.50/hr. And that's after the initial temp rate and another performance based raise! Honestly, I'm thinking about going back to bartending. At least as a bartender, I could be rude to customers that deserved it and made more money with more free time. I'm starting to discover that customer service is customer service and it all sucks, so if i can make more money having to deal with customers less, I win!! Anyway, I digress! It was a great feeling to get that check! Even if I still don't know what I'm doing. Even if I'm looking at jobs to teach English in other far away countries as I write this. I mean, there's always something, right? Always something to be unhappy about. But, I'm on a track that feels alright for the moment. What else is there?

Dead Piece of Bone

I just got my wisdom teeth out a few weeks ago and everything went pretty well. A little soreness and stiffness, some fun pain pills and muscle relaxers, and a lot of pudding later, everything seemed to be fine. I avoided the dreaded dry socket and got to eat lots of mac and cheese. That was until I notices this white, hard boney thing on the inside of my jaw right next to a wisdom tooth pit. It looked normal enough. Like a canker sore that got a little out of control. I mean, I did have oral surgery afterall. But then it was hard and didn't sting the way that canker sores can. Well, after a few days and some good use out of my flashlight batteries, I noticed that it wasn't going away and called the dentist. Within two seconds, she knew what this white thing was. It's common enough, it seems. It's a bone spur. Apparently, as the areas around the tooth that was removed start to adjust and collapse, sometimes a little part of the bone in that area atrophies, dies, breaks off and begins to work it's way out of your body like a toxin would, or a porcupine quill, or shard of glass. Basically, it's making it's way out of the inside of my jaw, cutting through my skin from the inside, and won't stop (or stop hurting) until it does. I'm kind of alright with this on some level and even sickly fascinated by it. I totally want to keep the bone when it comes out! On the other hand, there is a piece of dead bone floating around inside my body. There's something about that that I can't quite get over. It amazes me. It disturbs me. It saddens me. It just wigs me out in this way I don't understand. Dead bone is in my body. It's making it's way out, but it's dead. It's hard and sharp and dead. I can't explain it, but it's gotten to me. And I don't know if I'll be the same again. Maybe I'm a little melodramatic, but still...

um...

guess i feel a bit better today. sorry everyone for the negativity. guess i needed to vent. i'm a bit embarassed about my last and only blog entry and was thinking about deleting it, but hell! everyone's felt like I do at some point or other. (or most people i know anyway.) so, i'll leave it. still a bit uncomfortable with it being out there, though. guess i'll have to deal with it...

Tired

Alright, so here's the deal. I'm fucking tired! After many years of working hard to figure out what I really want to do, working all kinds of crazy shitty jobs and struggling to make enough money to survive, I have finally gotten to the point where maybe, quite probably, I know what I truly, truly want to do. I want to write. I want to write articles for magazines and travel publications, and write comic books and screenplays, and maybe lots more things. Yay, right!?! It's about freaking time I figured it out. I'm 28 already! Of course, deciding that you want to write, and make a living at it, is like deciding that you want to be an actress. Good fucking luck! But anyway... So, I decided that I really need to get a steady job to support myself while I set out to "make this dream a freakin' reality." And I got one rather easily! And now, I'm just tired. Tired of my nearly minimum wage job at a book store, tired of having to keep positive about the suckiness that is my life, tired of having people ask me what i'm up to so that I have to pretend to be positive and optimisitic when I'm just not feelin' it right now. I know that's it's just the adjustment period of a new job and my allergies that are kicking my ass and making me all tired. I know! I know I'm a little grumpy whiner when I'm sick and/or tired. I do know! But shit! Something's got to give, man! I had thought that the hard part was over. I thought that once I figured it all out that life wouldn't be so much of a struggle. But here I am, still working hard, still struggling to make enough money to survive, still wondering what I'm doing. I guess I've gone too far to give up now. And I don't have anything to fall back on anyway, so onward, ho!! But I'm tired, man! I'm just so tired!