Saturday, July 28, 2012

#80--Sleep and Listlessness

When in doubt, take a nap.

Not really.

I haven't been sleeping well lately. I've never made that complaint before. Sure I've had nights where sleeping just wasn't working out for me, but not usually several nights in a row. Maybe I'm just doing it wrong. I was in bed for an hour and a half, trying not to toss and turn and wiggle. My head pounded, my ears popped, and my throat scratched. I was miserable. I fetched some water and a large dose of tylenol and went back to bed. I think it was another half hour before sleep finally came, and then it was frail and sporadic.

Alex says I need to wear myself out and go to bed at 10. I'm not sure if that would work. But something's gotta give because the fall semester fast approaches and I teach at 8 a.m. I've got to be ready and peppy for those students, even though I likely won't get that from them.

I'm just over halfway done reading Yanni In Words. I love it. I borrowed it from a friend but I've decided I'll have to get my own copy, so that I can reread it whenever I need a boost. I thought about writing a fan letter, but fan mail is cheesy and I'm not really sure what the likelihood would be of him actually reading it. LOOK AT ME: I am a writer that is avoiding writing because I assume that my work will never be read! What kind of life is that! I am so ashamed right now, of myself and that I could even THINK of limiting myself in that way. I'll write the letter. It will be the most gorgeous letter I've ever written. If it is read by the intended audience, fantastic. If not, at least I wrote it.

If other writers had said the same to themselves, nothing would ever have been accomplished. And yes, it is about recognition and, I suppose, a "public" that recognizes your name and your work and appreciates it. I don't like to call that fame, but maybe that's what it is.

I wonder where my passion went. As if it is gone from me. Hidden. I want it back. That is my greatest fear--that I have lost my passion to some black void. That it is irretrievable. I remember having such passion so regularly that I didn't know what to do with it. I applied it to everything. Then what? Where did it go? Now I only see it sometimes? I don't know. I want it back. Music was my passion, and love, and friendship, and dancing (mostly spinning in circles) in the sun. I threw myself into everything. Poetry. Cleaning the chicken coop. Standing up for myself and my sanity. Making my opinion known. What are these things but the result of passion? And of course, finding myself. And I realized that instead of embracing who I am, I reject it and am never happy with myself. Then I whine about my inability to change myself into that person (that unknown person) that I want to be. I want to be me, but I want others to see something different. I don't want them to see me.

Like this is about maintaining an image. I'm not sure what this is about. Me, being me, and my passion. Letting it rage. It needs out. I've kept it locked away and starved for so long that I've almost become blind to it. Why did I put it away? Whatever made me think that was a good idea?

Today is step one. Today I will find my passion and I'll stuff it full of the things that make my heart soar. I'll stuff it full of the things that make me crazy, the things that make people look askance at me, the things that make me roar with life so everyone else can hear.

If people call me passionate now, with my real passions locked away, then they will be blown away once I've got the real deal back in the game. They won't know how to respond. And then you'll see it in my writing too. Then what will they call me? It is a challenge I am willing to face and take head on.

Therefore, I will write the letter to Yanni. I will unlock my passion and feed it what it needs. I will make myself known.

I will.

Thursday, July 26, 2012


This post is all about Yanni and I don't care if you judge me.

I've been reading his... biography? memoir? (Yanni In Words) lately and I realize just why I look up to him so much. I suspected his strength of independence just from how my mother talked about him. He's a genius and a revolutionary and he set the pace for all those who followed him. And he never let anyone tell him he couldn't do something and he refused to get distracted from his life goal and he did everything he wanted to do.

And that's awesome.

And I'm going to see him live on the 14th, and I'm so excited. (I'm seriously screaming inside when I think about it. I get really giddy--hearing those familiar songs LIVE is going to rock my socks off!).

People look at me funny for liking Yanni and his music. I don't always understand why. Maybe they don't see what I see or hear what I hear. They haven't really connected with his music and his work.

Thank you Yanni, for inspiration as a child who knew virtually nothing of the world. Thank you Yanni, for continuing to inspire me to create my own work, to address and express my emotions, and to go after what I want to do, no matter what.

Here's to Yanni!

Saturday, July 21, 2012

#78--Sometimes When You Feel

Once in awhile I just get in a mood. I guess I'm always in a mood, but never the same one. Sometimes I'd like it to rain for days, steadily. Other days I want to live a life I can't have.

That isn't to say that I'm unhappy with the one I've got, just that I wonder what it is like to be in a different situation, to practice a different set of skills, to have different goals. I suppose then, that having different goals is one of my goals, and so perhaps I should work on that and implement it into my life. I am not saying that what I've got going on is mundane either, but perhaps expected. Yesterday I wanted attention, today I'm after spontaneity.

I've decided nothing ever happens in Kansas. At least, nothing anyone really wants to hear about. Maybe that is the situation for a majority of the Midwest in general... But I can't say for sure. I've only ever lived in Kansas and visited those other places briefly. I think it is those brief ventures outside of the expectedness that makes me want to leave, to be different.

People are too focused on being different from others. People are too content with being the same as everyone else. How is this important? I'm back to yesterday's discussion of individuality versus group. Is that it? We view the 1% as individuals and the 99% as a group? Therefore we can never come out on top, can never regain what we've lost. But what did we lose exactly? Our courage? Our self-esteem and self-worth? Our ability to grow spines?

Love others and be true to thyself. <-- That's the best I've got. This is something we should all strive for. If we did these things, and only these things, the world would improve. But it isn't something only a few can do and expect profound results--it has to be a group/collective effort on the part of all. But then we become too focused on the differences between people, and their beliefs and their practices and their points of view, and we fight again, we belittle, and we watch at the other team kills itself and we smile smugly in satisfaction at their pain and lessened numbers and we think we are great, when the only thing we've really done is succumbed to evil and hatred.

So what, that person is a homosexual, and someone else isn't sexual at all, and one person has a penis and another one has a vagina. So what? Who cares? These are the ways in which we define ourselves and we allow others to define us. Then there's the whole... I'm this, this this, this, and HUMAN campaign, which is great but it is still a label. I'm alive, and I deserve to be treated fairly and with love. I treat you fairly and with love, unless you say something against me personally (like, that I'm an evil tyrannical bitch when I'm not) in which case I'll be upset and I'd like to talk to you about your viewpoint but you'd rather avoid me and only spread further gossip about me when you don't even take the time to tell me why you're angry. And no I won't retaliate, except not speaking to you when I see you in public places, and I feel that's fair. And if you really wanted to talk to me you would have done so of your own will rather than waiting for a chance meeting at the store. Unless you feel that vulnerable that you have to have strangers around to overhear your complaints... In which case, people need to be plain with one another. "I'm upset with you because...." and "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that was upsetting to you. What I meant was..."

Two simple sentences. Instead we'd rather hold grudges or shoot up a theater or drop a bomb on someone else.


This went a lot differently than i thought it would.

Friday, July 20, 2012

#77--Just Another Girl

I'm just another girl. I've got the same dreams as anybody. I only think my ideas are original.

Before I go any farther, I should just go ahead and say this might seem like a downer post, but really it isn't. Bear with me.

As I was saying--

I'm just another girl. Except I'm not girly and I'm not a tomboy. I'm feminine and not. I'm eccentric and sultry and spiny and brash and nurturing all at the same time. Do I know who I am? Sometimes. I have the same dreams and goals as anyone else. So why should I be held apart from the crowd? How do you gain and maintain your individuality when there are so many other people just like you? What makes me more deserving than anyone else? What is the value of a person?

You don't know me. And you will probably never take the time. I'll be just another gravestone in another cemetery. Someday someone will walk past my head stone and say "She must have been a real person once. She must have mattered to someone. I wonder what she looked like?" Then they'll wander on and visit the grave they came for, or break up the vault they meant to, or upright all the fallen-over flower holders. And then they'll go home to their families or their dog.

What is the point of this post you might ask? I don't know. Do you? If you have any insight, please enlighten me.

I've got dreams. I've got goals. I've got secrets and confessions and favorites and dislikes and passions and star fire and you and I don't even know what else. I've got a house that I can call home and a two-dog family and I've got these things and you've got your things. I've got my memories, which will only ever be my memories and no one else's, for we all experience things differently. I've got all this unique and individualness that cannot be remade or copied or undone by anyone. How can I express that to you? You are just as individual as me, and in that we are the same. Little copies of each other for millenia and having sprouted from the loins of some water-turned-land-crawling-monkey-fish-ameoba.

Some might say that all anyone wants is to be famous. If we were all famous, no one would care. If they did, they'd care enough to be different. They'd be infamous; thus starting the cycle of difference and un-noticeability all over again. Here I am making up words. What did you do today? Yes that's a challenge.

I don't know that fame is what I want. I think I want to be noticed. Especially during the summer when one can't find a job and is at home a lot of the time and no one talks to you but your dog when they want to go pee and that's not a real conversation anyway because it isn't even the same language and doesn't hold the same conceptual structures either. Attention. So, that must be what I'm wanting now. As ever. But what is wrong with that? Doesn't everyone want to be acknowledged? Even folks that claim to be afraid of people or who are anti-social or worse, all they want is to be acknowledged, to have friends, to communicate and feel like their ideas are worth something; to feel like they are worth something to someone, even if only for a moment or twenty.

Are my ideas good ones? Are they worth sharing? Are they worth hearing? Hm?

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

#76--More of the Same

Lots of things are happening lately.

My car is close to being fixed. We'll see how that goes. Yay trees!

Friends are moving back to town and out of town, so some happy and some sad. Helping them takes a lot more time than one would anticipate.

I need me space though and I feel like I'm not getting that. I think I need to take up a new practice. Who knows. Maybe I'll start getting up early (I need to do this anyway in preparation for the fall semester since I am taking and teaching early classes) and going for walks before I start my day. Then I'll have some extra energy at the beginning of the day, I'll be keeping healthy habits, I'll be up on time, and maybe I'll even get a bit more in shape for it. This of course goes hand in hand with my gym attendance going up. I have started going every day and I intend to maintain that for the future.

In the meantime, still working on thesis findings. Got an email back from the prof. and I skimmed through it. It looks absolutely helpful, I just wasn't feeling entirely focused today. Hm.

Also not sure that my ideas are being taken entirely seriously. Ah well.

Pizza arrived... so ciao for now!

Sunday, July 15, 2012

#75--Too Tired to Write a Real Post

What a week.

Spent a lot of time with my friend Lisa, and that was nice. Now I'm home again, and back to reading and writing and posting on this lovely blog.

Otherwise, I'm pretty tired. I stubbed my toe today--hard enough to make my whole foot hurt. I may have also sprained a finger. I don't know how I managed that. I didn't think typing would really bother it but it does. All the more reason for me to make this a short post.

Got some WWI letters from an antique store, along with a cameo brooch and two skeleton keys. I fully intend to use these for story writing.

I'm ready for August for several reasons. If only I could go to that concert on the 8th--Fun, Electric Guest, Silversun Pickups, Alabama Shakes... <3!!!

Anyway, more substantial stuff tomorrow, or as soon as my finger doesn't protest too much.

Until then--

Thursday, July 5, 2012

#74--Fitting In... Blah blah blah

When I was a kid, I had a notion of what was "sexy" or "attractive" for females. Being a girl myself, I felt it was necessary to identify with some trope (and I still feel that way). However, I feel also that there are so many different versions of what is sexy or attractive that it is impossible for me to decide which one I should go with.

As a girl, I really had a thing for Anjelica Huston in The Addam's Family. Another big influence for me was Winona Ryder in various roles such as Beetlejuice, Edward Scissorhands, and Star Trek.  I was also very fond of Cher, especially in her role from Mermaids, along with Whoopi Goldberg, Demi Moore, Gillian Anderson, Madonna, Julie Andrews, Deborah Kerr, Betty White, Bea Arthur, Catharine O'Hara, etc. Even my mother fell into this category for awhile, but that may have been because I did not yet know her intimately as an adult does, as I do now.

I think I lost my gusto for this halfway through making that list. It wasn't about who was pretty in the face for me (though that was a factor) but it was more about who they were (or are) as a person and the roles they chose to perform during their careers be it on a musical or theatrical stage or both.

I'm also not saying I don't still look up to these people, or that they are any less an ideal of beauty than they used to be--just that I finally feel society's push for what I should feel is attractive. And maybe society has changed since I was a kid (most likely) and that's okay too I suppose.

I guess all I really wanted to accomplish with this is a throw-back to my childhood and remembering those values that I had in mind then--values I had selected myself and not because someone or a group of people told me to choose differently.

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

#73--Contests & Stuff

I entered a contest today. Not a writing contest, though there was a box for an "essay" which I totally filled with haiku instead. Well, at least halfway. In any case, it will be fun to see whether or not I win something from the contest. If not, then maybe I'll get a mention on the show or something. Which means I need to find a way to stream the current episodes but that doesn't seem too hard. I should probably stop talking about it.

A friend of mine was recently informed that a publisher in Germany would like to publish her thesis, so this is very exciting news! A big shout-out to Lindsey! Hooray!

In the meantime, I'm feeling creative but strangely unable to pinpoint what exactly I'd like to do with that energy. Should I make a new playlist on 8tracks? Should I work on revising the monster story I finished? Should I do some crafting that I'm behind on (gift-making)? Baking?

I'll take a vote! Leave answers below in the comments!

Also, I should probably figure out what to do about dinner since it is almost 8 and we're all hungry. Figures. Hm.

I guess I didn't have anything extraordinary to say this time around. Poop.

Until next time--


Just so everyone is aware and not extremely confused, the last three posts before this one are posts I found in my draft box that I had not published. I still have posts numbered 22, 35, and 39 but they are different than what you will read in these posts, likely because I lost internet and thought I lost my post as well, when really blogspot just saved it as a draft that I was unaware of. So I started over. So there's a bit of a flashback to 2010 when I was jobless (much like I am now) and frustrated.

I'm still going with my goals that I posted in #71 regarding things I'd like to finish reading so that I can move on to other works and fully work from the inspiration those works provide for me. I have also made another goal for myself: I can get a cute new hair cut after I lose 15 pounds. That might seem like a lot but it isn't really. So here's hoping I can achieve all of the goals I set for myself.

In the meantime I am going to look up recipes for eggs, since I have six dozen and I'm not eating them nearly fast enough to use them while they're good.

Tomorrow is the 4th, when we celebrate the nation's independence from Britain. I'm not really that into it. I like the smoke bombs for the color and automatic mosquito repellent but that's about it. I don't mind watching fireworks in the sky, but I think it is a bit ridiculous to celebrate freedom from something when we are so oppressed by our current system. Buuut that's just me. So oh well. Also, that was over 200 years ago, so it seems just a hair outdated to me. I'm sure someone will read this and be upset and call me "unpatriotic" but I really don't feel any particular attachment to this nation. Sure I was born here, and sure I live here, but those are things that I cannot change at the moment. It is just really hard to feel connected to a place where even the government doesn't want to feel connected to. Hm. I think this thought requires more thought. I'll get back to you.

Until then...

Monday, July 2, 2012

#39 Interesting Turns (Previously Unpublished)

The last few days have held some interesting turns for me, and I now face a decision between some things that are ridiculously exciting and difficult to choose between. I don't know really how I will manage, but I am sure I will find a way.

That's about all the details I can give on that.

On a different note, I wish it would hurry up and be spring already. The weather the last few days has been so nice (in the 70s!) but I keep hearing reports that its supposed to snow on Monday, and today is significantly colder than yesterday. I don't want any more snow, I want sunshine! But I guess we can't always have what we want.

Or can we?

I feel like saying here, that if you want to do something that you should do it, and that there is no limit to what you can accomplish if you strive for it. And sure that sounds cheesy to a lot of you, and everyone always says that but no one ever does it, blah blah--But if you live your life that way and that is your true opinion, then no, you never will really move forward like you want to do.

As for me, there are things that I want to do, things I know and feel that I must accomplish before I don't have that option anymore. And for a very long time those things have seemed out of reach, or like they could not be worked on in a simultaneous fashion. This relates back to the decision that I have to make, which is all dependent upon a conversation I must have. What I'm saying here is I've discovered that is is very possible that these things I want to do CAN be done at the same time, that I do not have to allot different time periods for these things. And the more I think about it the more I realize that I AM capable of completing the tasks simultaneously, and that the challenge of it would be excellent, the dual learning experience and work experience would be beyond any other experience I might have by itself at one time.

I guess then, that the only real obstacle to doing both of these things at once is the conversation that I need to have. I suppose then, that I would be able to better determine when these things would happen and how they would come into being.

Both of these options are crazy! Intense! I never thought that (at this point in my life) that I would be faced with these two options, or that I would be progressing so quickly! It is very exciting, but also daunting and I can't decide what to do.

And based on the conversation and how that goes, then I may not have to decide between the two, or I might be asked to make a decision point-blank.

Either way.

I guess I didn't really have much else to talk about today than this decision, lol. Yay for vague blog entries!

#22 Professional Blog (Previously Unpublished)

Alright everyone, I've decided to make a professional blog! It will be connected to this one, and should be accessible via the tool bar on the right. The purpose for this new blog will be to display larger chunks of stories in a more organized fashion, with consistent titling and numbering, so they are easier to find and read through.

This blog will still be active and will be where I first post these story ideas and where I will hash out title issues and other such conundrums.

In the meanwhile, today is the last day for NaNoWriMo, and needless to say, I did not win the challenge of writing 50,000 words in one month. I only wrote about 2,196 words. However, I have deemed that this is just fine, as Grace and I have agreed to compete with each other AGAIN for the month of December for our own personal NaNo event. Yesterday I did a lot of reading and got some inspiration from Julie & Julia, the movie about Julia Child and her fabulous cooking. So I am feeling rejuvenated a little bit, and in addition to the fun day I had today with Gracie, which also contributes to my overall lifted spirits.

Isn't that a funny thought: there are religions with one deity and others with several, but for the most part, everyone is considered to have one soul or spirit. Yet every once in awhile we have several... Hm.

Back to what I was saying! I will have a professional blog! I am excited for this. :-D

#35--Where's Mine? (Previously Unpublished)

At what point does one give up?

Is giving up really an option?


"don't find reasons not to be happy"

I'm not going to pick this apart. i just feel awful.

i'm thinking about writing a piece or something on the job search. yeah, we (as americans, the collective we) know its tough out there, searching for and finding a job. things are looking down, and its hard on a lot of folks.

But this is getting ridiculous.

I've signed up for multiple job search websites, for free. Its great that they're free because I have no money to pay them if they weren't free.

So i'll go to one of these said websites, which sends me email on a regular basis, screaming LOOK AT THESE JOBS THAT WE PICKED FOR YOU EVEN THOUGH THEY DON'T REALLY MATCH  YOUR SKILL SET, EDUCATION OR INTEREST AT ALL!

and then they send me reminder emails, making sure i've seen the opportunity to apply for crap i can't do or don't want to do.

keep in mind that i'm not trying to be terribly picky, since there's not much for me to pick from in the first place. i generally tend to stay away from things that require licensure or in any way deal with accounting since i really don't like math (that doesnt mean i have zero skill, but accounting really isn't for me).

so this means that out of 100 jobs that i might look at in a day, (or an hour), --and these are my own very rough estimations-- about 30% have to deal with accounting/insurance/required licenses, 40% are in nursing, healthcare, or a service related industry, like driving medical equipment around the city. I've done pizza delivery, i know how it works, and it sucks. so that's a rough 70% of the 100 jobs that i won't/can't apply to/am not eligible for anyway.

Now lets say that 20% of the remaining jobs might match what i can do, or what i could do with minimal training, and i start reading the descriptions and requirements and i get all excited--only to find out the job is in CALIFORNIA, ARIZONA, COLORADO, ILLINOIS, OHIO, ARKANSAS, NEW YORK, CHICAGO, OR MARYLAND.


(some of you at this point may say, well, you could move! but i don't have the money for that either, thank you).

SOOOOO,   this leaves me with 10% of the 100 initial jobs. in my area, not likely to be in my field or skill set, are generally part-time, temporary or both, paying under or just at minimum wage, and require me to drive at least 20 minutes to get to work (which is expensive since gas is sitting just under 3 bucks a gallon and we're trying to only use my car to save some extra cash).

so out of that last measly 10%--

(Please note that I found this in my "draft" box which probably means my computer lost internet connection and I had to start the post over. I will be posting the rest of these drafts as well.)

#71--Spirit & Dreams

Random title. Random post.

Helped a friend find an apartment today. Yay!

My hand is still crazy sore from yesterday. I realized that my injury was caused by me attempting to cut my dog's hair with scissors while she was halfway through her bath. Foolish idea and it will never happen again. In the meantime, I have my wrist brace on as a helpful thing. It doesn't really work 100% for the palm of my hand where the muscles have been overworked, but it does help at least a little.

Also had the opportunity to share a story with my friend. Yay! I was glad for the conversation and the helpfulness it brought about. You know who you are and thank you very much! We stayed up late even though you were probably dead tired, and I thank you for that as well.

So like I said in yesterday's post, I finished a story but I need to rework some of the details after the reveal. It is the monster story, so it should be more monstrous. In the meantime, the apocalypse story is on hold until I feel like I can write more than what you'll get in this blog post.

So I think this week will be for reading. I'm going to shoot for finishing Let's Pretend This Never Happened (Jenny Lawson), The Illustrated Man (series, Ray Bradbury), and The Island of Dr. Moreau (H.G. Wells). And then it will be on to other titles that I have not yet explored. I feel I need to re-read The Hero With A Thousand Faces (Joseph Campbell) so that one is likely next.

And now my wrist is tired. TTFN.

Sunday, July 1, 2012


Today the low was WAY TOO HOT.

I have finished a story!!


In the process I pinched a nerve in my shoulder!


And now I am showered and waiting for my friend to get here.

I gave the dogs a bath. I cut off some of Sydney's multitudes of hair. She looks "skinny." I put it in quotation marks because she doesn't look like *as much* of a moose as she did before I cut her hair. Fonzi didn't get a hair cut because I don't care enough today. Plus that's an outside activity. Plus he's not that bad right now.

In the meantime, my shoulder hurts. I probably shouldn't be typing. Oh well.

I was trying to figure out what to do for dinner, since it is getting to be about that time, but I don't really want to cook and it's too hot for that action anyway. Milk was a bad choice.

La la la. I finished a story! La la la!


#69--Heh heh.

So I took a glance at some of my past posts. Of course, every writer should do this when they need a blurb of inspiration or something else to reflect on. Maybe I do too much reflecting but that's alright.

Sixty posts ago (#9) I read again. I was angry. I think I somehow managed to forget that anger. Maybe I buried it that day, leaving it to rest and be outside of me. I don't like being angry. Does anyone? There was another post regarding the same topic though I don't remember what post it was...I think it was called "Was It Worth It?" But anyway, I am astonished at myself. Because during that meeting, that one lunch time, I did not say to you the things I wanted to say. I did not really express all of my pent-up anger, because I had stowed it away in a corner of my mind and I had allowed it to gather dust. Does that mean I am moving on from that angry person I was/am? Rereading that post made me realize the disgust is still there at least. But what can I do? What does it matter if I'm still angry with you or not? If I die without telling you how angry I am, is there guilt attached?

I suppose it is enough to know that you don't know me, and that you likely never really will. And still, even after that brief meeting and attempt at discussion, things are still broken and unfixed, rusting in the rain and wind and sun. It was never a problem that would be solved with a simple apology, not that you offered one. I suppose in that way I'm just as bad as you because I didn't offer one either. In fact, when you put me on the spot about the wedding I lied to you, just the same as I imagine you would have lied to me in any other situation. Why did I lie? I hate confrontation. I hate fighting. I hate yelling. I hate feeling guilt for something I shouldn't feel guilty for. I didn't invite you because you would have been upset. I didn't invite you because you didn't invite me. I didn't invite you because you never come to things that I do, things I'm involved in, or even just for a damned visit. Would people have liked you better if you had? Probably not. But at least they wouldn't have been able to speak out against you. And that's the worst bit about it too, is that they tore me apart. Every mention of your name and they cringed, they grimaced, they spat it at me like it was poison.

I saw something recently that hit me like a brick in my gut. It was a meme-thing that said basically, every time a parent bad-talks the other parent in front of/to a child, that child feels like shit because they are one half of each parent. And that's so true. So a big shout out to anyone and everyone who ever had something nasty to say about you, and who said those nasty things to my face. Thank you for making me feel like one-half a loser. And you know, once you're halfway to something, you just keep on going. Thanks for impressing upon me that I am one-half bum, liar, scumbag, cheater, thief, coward, gossiper, sleazy, likely drug abuser, whore of a person. Because those are all things I heard about you. And will you ever admit the truth? Will you ever own up to your own past and your own actions? Did you ever? Not likely. And here I am, an adult, trying SO hard NOT to be you, based only on what I know from other people. Here I am, half-poisoned. And whenever anyone said I did something that reminded them of you, I sunk so low. Instantly. I was the lowest thing ever. I was despicable to them. Unmentionable. Disgusting. Worth spitting on. ONLY worth spit. And sometimes not even worth that.

This seems--is--a defining characteristic for me. I am the offspring of all of the above. There is no escaping that, even if I try my damndest to be a good person. Even if I struggle and fight and claw my way up out of this hole.

I did not intend for this to be a violent post. I think this is something that I will have to deal with perpetually for the rest of my life. Unfortunately.

On another note, I went to a BBQ this afternoon/evening at a friend's house. It was quite fun, the conversation was engaging and such; I got to hang out with Baby Z and Miss Jewel & Miss Cordee, though the girls were more involved with the rabbit and tribal drums. It was a little uncomfortable though, since I was the only one there who didn't bring a child along, having none to contribute. I'm still not sure how that makes me feel. And of course, there's never a "perfect" time for that sort of thing... Anyway. I'm not getting into that. It was a good time. I took beer bread & some dip, both of which were quite tasty. I had a couple servings of strawberry daquiri but all that did was give me a headache that took FOREVER to get rid of. And yet, here I am at 230 cranking out the longest blog post in history. I don't mind calling attention to my actions in this way. Random.

I stayed up with the intention of writing more on a story I've been working on (the one about monsters) but I didn't do any writing since I re-opened my computer at 100. Ah well. At least I have all day tomorrow to do something. While my body is wearing down, my brain is still pretty awake, so I may end up staying up longer after all. Who knows. I feel like this post is too long so here it is.

Happy 69 to all.

Saturday, June 30, 2012

#68--Sleeping Past Dawn

Yesterday I did some writing and finally made my music files MUCH easier to navigate on my computer. Now I don't have to worry about creating files as I upload discs and downloads from the internet. As for the writing, I started over on a story. I was about five pages in (single-spaced for my English friends) when I started anew. Same character names, different events. And then, ultimately, new characters.

Well anyway, I was thinking about my story progress and how to make the concept original when I was struck with some new ideas. I haven't sat down to work them into the story yet (since I'm here typing this) but I think they will result in some interesting paths. The only trouble is, I have until tomorrow, probably in the afternoon, to "finish" that story and one other.

So I suppose I should stop being vague about it--the first story is an apocalypse tale, and the second is about monsters. I can't say much about the monster story as I haven't started that one yet. I should also probably mention that each story should be no longer than 10 pages. This is a prompt given by Alex, and he didn't specify whether it had to be a complete story arc or not, but I'm assuming it does so I should really get off here and get working on it.

I should also mention that I didn't even wake up until 12:30 today, and didn't get out of bed until an hour later. It was kind of nice, but I'm still a bit drowsy (the consequences of sleeping for too long). Otherwise, I am feeling fine.

ALSO: I have about 400 vinyl records for sale, mostly 80s rock. If you're interested, please send me a message or somehow otherwise indicate your interest.

And now I'm off to work on story writing.


Monday, June 25, 2012

#67--Today I _____________

Today was a full day. Started with a lengthy post about who knows what really. I reread it and it makes sense to me anyway, and it is just as impacting as it was earlier when I wrote it. I suppose that is nice. That is something that I love about words and their construction. If you do it right, they never lose their power. Really, they never lose their power anyway, but still, I think you get my meaning here. I had some things today I meant to do that didn't get finished. For instance, I washed and dried laundry but I didn't get it put away. So the mess that was in my room that I cleaned up is back, as if it never moved, except it did, to get washed and then to get all dumped back on the floor again.

I made a couple trips to the store, once for baking soda and again for vegetables. I suppose those are good things to buy. I said to myself that I would make cream puffs today but I didn't. Instead I made oatmeal-choco-chip cookies for the hubby. I DO intend to make those damn cream puffs this week--or I won't ever make them. The only problem with this is it is supposed to be over 100 outside all week, and that means it will suck to be standing over a hot stove. However, cream puffs are the kind of treat that are nice to have around in the summer when it is hot, so I'm hoping for a stellar win on this one so that my intense heat cooking time will be totally worth it. Except I'm not sure it will be because I've never made them before. Which is good. I guess. It is good to experiment in the kitchen as long as you don't get too crazy with it and end up throwing out more food than you can actually tolerate to eat.

I'm sure you don't really want a piece-by-piece reconstruction of my day. If you did, it would only be because I'm a celebrity and everyone wants to know every little detail about THEM. Why is that? Only "important" people are paid attention to.. Isn't everyone important? I must be off my rocker today because I'm asking some funny questions (see previous post).

I'd like to go ahead and apologize right now to anyone who attempts to read through all of these posts. If you are a regular (Jason) then I thank you for taking the time to read these and being interested in what I have to say. At the same time, I shouldn't have to apologize for the length of my posts because if you've stuck around this long then obviously you're interested in what I have to say and that's not only cool, but not apologizing is totally fine. I mean, it's all legit right? Oh, it is late and I'm not sure I'm making any sense. Anyway, I felt compelled to write on here again today and so I did. So there.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

#66--Abnormally Normal and Vice Versa

"What I mean to say is,"

"What I've been trying to tell you..."

"Well, frankly, I just can't find the words."

"When was my last attempt? I'm not sure."

"It's been awhile, I can tell you that..."


"No, no one has looked after me in a long time. Should they have?"

"Who would care enough?"

[lengthy pause; playing with a napkin on the counter]


[quick sigh; leans forward to prop head in hand]

"Well, I don't know."

"When you figure it out you should let me know."

"No, I'm not trying to be sarcastic, I just mean if you hear anythin--"



"Yeah, I'm okay with it...If I wasn't I'd have told you."

"I'm sighing because I'm tired."



"Thanks again. Let me know how it goes."

"Yeah. Bye."

[drops phone onto counter. leaning on hands, pushes back from counter and walks away.]

A one-sided phone conversation and of course no one knows. No one knows what the point is, not even me and I wrote the darn thing. I'm sure there is some sort of meaning if someone dissected it and presented their theory to me. I might then find something enlightening about this work. Yet I don't want to know either. And sometimes I think it is this sentiment that prevents people from giving a damn about what it is that they do in life, or the people they come across each day, or the task that they've been entrusted with. For here we see a lack of compassion, or maybe too much--which is the problem in itself, don't you think? That leaves us in a sticky situation. We're unable to sympathize/empathize with others, and more significantly we don't want to. But when we do--Oh! when we do--that is when we really fall. We cannot contain ourselves. Our passion for caring for others bursts forth into the world, where it overwhelms everyone and makes the passionate man a lunatic (at least according to everyone else). And here we find frustration with the world, with those that label us, and with ourselves for being so overly passionate and caring and mindful and considerate of others that when we are treated unfairly or poorly we cannot stand it, and we often resort to anger and violence, purely out of frustration regarding our own emotions. Where does that leave us? Misunderstood? Certainly. Uncertain of ourselves, and our passion, and if it is even worth the trouble. Is it? I don't know. I can't answer that. But I will tell you that sometimes, which is more frequent now than before, I don't want to be compassionate. I don't want to be emotionally strung out over other people. I don't want to be the one they come to when their lives fall apart. I want to be that person that is....(I can't find the words to finish this sentence). Maybe that's because I don't know who I want to be. Maybe it is because as people we are always in flux, even if we refuse to acknowledge it. There it is! I'm just nervous because I change all the time. Right, it shouldn't be that easy for me to diagnose myself and my psyche all at once like that. But I am scared. I am nervous. Will this new "me" be worth it? Will I like it? I'm sure I will, otherwise I wouldn't morph into that person. But my past self--does it haunt me? I don't think it does, but I could be wrong there too. I should say "selves" because there are more than one historic versions of me. Identity, like a river, is never solid. Even if the colds of winter freeze the surface, the water moves and the life thrives beneath. For a river there is no death. Here lies immortality, for ever and ever, always in flux, never constant except in its constant change. And so in this way of growing and molting and shedding and bursting forth from my own cocoon, I could in time, achieve immortality. Whew.

*Letting that digest for a moment*

So then, in the plot of life, I don't suppose I have to care, or change, or morph, or be passionate about others and things. But if i didn't, and if I weren't, then what kind of anyone would I be? A simple human drone? People say that, "human drone," but that's impossible. We were given the ability (by someone/something...I'm not pointing any fingers here) to think for ourselves, to make choices, to see and understand death, etc. We can never be drones as long as we possess these abilities. Yet they are neglected, malnourished, ignored. And what then? Does that make a person a drone? No. I don't believe it does. They just likely haven't been taught or haven't discovered that they have these abilities, their own super powers. Not everyone will use them for good, and that is already true and I understand that. But I also know how easy it is to feel completely justified in an action while no one else understands you. That is a tricky slope in itself because then you feel alone and unable to speak about that which you would most like to share. So you do and you get confused looks, or snickers, or your friends stop talking to you. And then you wonder about yourself and you wonder about your friends and the types of people you keep around and are they worth it and here you are, back at square one.

I feel like I have tons more to say about this but in all honesty, I'm hungry and I'm going to end it here or nothing else will be accomplished today except the depraved ramblings of myself. Hooray.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

#65--The Places You Used to Know

All gung-ho to start, but not sure what to start with. I know I have cleaning to do, and playlists to make and papers to sort through. But I don't want to do any of those. Who knew Pinterest & Tumblr could be so useful for idea sprouting and for designing characters? Sometimes I think about how each character I make is a little part of me. And after each story is written, each plot arc is fulfilled I wonder which parts of me have made it to the page. Are these things I want to happen? Things I'm afraid of? Do I openly subject others around me to the same violent emotions that I write on the page? If I write only the morbid, dark, and grim, am I destined for misery? Am I unable to be happy? I don't think that these sorts of examinations of writing are ones that should be taken on alone, not to mention late at night and right before bed. These considerations lead to bad dreams and worse waking.

I am not imprisoned here, by my words. At least, I don't think I am. I could be subject to the Stockholm Syndrome, but I'm not sure that these bits of sound, these utterances, these twisting phrases and these spilled bowls of alphabet soup--that they are indeed restricting. Certainly there is more that I want to say that I struggle to find words for, and thus I am in a sense imprisoned. As long as I continue, the words will finally come, and even if they are not 100% what I want, they are always adequate at least, for their understanding by others. And I don't care if the grammar falls apart, that overlying structure that is supposed to be a rule system but that is more like guidelines for sounding credible and like you have half a brain...

But here I am rambling. I'm avoiding the issue. An issue that is impossible to grasp--so slippery that I cannot even in full confidence guarantee that it is an issue at all. Am I silly? Am I paranoid? Over analyzing? No matter. I've been here before. Well, it isn't quite the same spot exactly, but the foliage is familiar. I can see old trees I've passed by before, not too far from where I am now. Do I regret having come around this way again? Probably not. After all, there must be something to be gained from this area if the resources are plentiful enough that I should return, consciously or not.

I find these images on Pinterest & Tumblr and I think that maybe I'm not projecting my true self via a physical outlet. And sure my physical and mental states don't have to be identical, but is it obvious to others? Does it need to be? Again I'm stuck figuring myself out, or trying to. But none of that is important. I already know that my whole life will consist of me trying to figure myself out. Which is, what it's all about basically.

Except not today. Today I don't know what it's about. Have I changed again? Perhaps that is what it is--an internal shift that I have yet to fully recognize and acknowledge. Here I am again, analyzing myself. Perhaps it isn't the change itself that is significant but the source of the change, or the parts that are different from what they were. Perhaps also it does not have to do with a change of existing parts, but an addition or subtraction of parts. Of course, this only makes it more confusing for me.

In the end...well, I cannot come to a conclusion yet. Maybe it is not an overnight change but something that will take a bit. Which is okay. I'm not going to rush it and come out with a half-finished product. I must be thorough. It is interesting though, that I should be conscious of a change now when previous changes I've gone through have been much less obvious to me until after the fact, and even then they usually have to be pointed out by others. But maybe this is part of the change itself. Becoming aware.

Does this even make sense anymore? Is this a clear thought progression? Maybe not. Regardless, I feel better for having written it out. Until more is discovered--

Sunday, June 10, 2012

#64--What now?

Reading, writing, Netflix watching;
Washing, sorting, drying, folding;
Napping, dozing, waking, sleeping;
Eating, snacking, lethargic laying;
Walking, bouncing, going crazy;
Gaming, skulking, eyelid gazing;
Posting, sharing, facebook liking;

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Throwing; chasing, puppy playing;
Stewing, brewing, but not cooking;
Washing, cleaning; am I breathing?

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Two more months of this, by the way. Months more of not going, not doing, not paying, not playing, not saving, not progressing. Only fermenting and rotting away in a shell of a place that I long to be free of...Yet others stay and are satisfied and here I am caught between a rock and a stone and a ledge and a hard place, and I must be upside down, inside out, backwards--I don't know which way to move. I cannot move, it seems, at all. Nothing new, nothing old, nothing helpful, nothing sold. Desperation is a cancer that wards off all others and keeps the little man down. And here I am, in the midst of summer with no tan, no release, and no escape. What a challenge. What a waste.

Friday, June 8, 2012


You know what? Here's my American Dream. I put it on this platter for all to see and criticize. And I take that criticism and I apply it when necessary. But I am tired of you shitting on my dream. If this is how you see me and my efforts then screw you. You want to push your citizens to do well and to have an education and this and that and here you prevent them from accomplishing that goal. You're just a hypocritical bastard, giving a command which we bust our ass to complete, and then you just shrug when we need assistance from you. Screw you. You can have my American Dream. I don't need it anymore.

Thursday, June 7, 2012


Before I jump in, just let me point out that the title of this post is pretty random, as I'll be discussing multiple things.

First, I'd like to say that I've recently been accepted to a journal for publication! Woo! My poem "Blueberry Muffins" will be in the Fall edition of Quivira this year. SO excited.

Otherwise, I've been doing a lot more reading, though it still isn't as much as I'd like it to be. I suppose I should allot days for reading and others for writing. Maybe I could also effectively find a way to split the days between reading, writing, and organizing the house. We'll see.

Recently I finished Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, which will require re-reads since it is a text I'm studying for my thesis. I am currently reading Dr. Moledinky's Castle (a young adult novel), Swim, and I have yet to begin on The Island of Dr. Moreau (which will likely also be for my thesis).

Yesterday I wrote about Ray Bradbury's death and I may or may not have mentioned how I was looking for a copy of The Illustrated Man. However, I totally have a copy in a three-work anthology of Bradbury's, which we recently purchased at Barnes & Noble. Also included are The Martian Chronicles and The Golden Apples of the Sun. You can't know how excited I am that I have a copy of TIM, since it seems like it would be extremely helpful for my thesis.

And since I'm writing a creative thesis, I'll have to have short stories to go along with the research I do. It looks like I've got some good amounts of reading ahead of me, so I shall make the rest of this brief.

I am also currently reading Jenny Lawson's Let's Pretend This Never Happened. If you haven't heard of it or read it  yet, you need to. It is funny and serious and astounding and entirely relate-able. It is definitely a book that opens your eyes to a different kind of world. Now that I mention this book, I should probably find it and finish the darn thing. If I remember correctly, I am pretty near the end.

In any case, I'm off to indulge in thesis readings! Ciao!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

#61--Ray Bradbury, Icon

Today it was all over the news that Mr. Ray Bradbury had died. I am quite sad that he has passed, and he will be missed. Yet he will live on and continue to inspire and influence others through his writings, as well as his work on tv shows, tv films & more.

I am sad that I did not get to meet him before his passing. Of course, everyone wants to get to meet a celebrity, usually just to hold it over the heads of everyone else that didn't get to. However, all I would want to do is talk about stories and projects and character design.

I think a lot of celebrities assume that all we want is a shot at money and fame when we oogle them, but really all I'm after is intelligent and enthusiastic conversation. We could talk about bumblebees for all I care, as long as I get the chance to talk to those people that inspire me to do good work--the work I want to do with my life. Because really truly, there is no point in doing anything that you dislike.

The beginning of my list of people I-would-like-to-meet-maybe-for-lunch-or-something:
Betty White
Tim Burton
Johnny Depp
Emma Thompson
Will Ferrell
Jim Dale
Tanith Lee
Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
Jenny Lawson
Elizabeth Kostova
Gregory Maguire
Kenneth Branagh
Dame Maggie Smith

Unfortunately, the majority of my favorite authors are already dead, having been deceased long before my grandparents were even twinkles in their parents' eyes. This list may also be revised later, when I remember someone that I cannot now think to add. Either way, it would be lovely to meet with these folks at some point, before the cruel grip of death takes us all away. 


Does anyone read this blog?

Who cares, right? There are too many people in the world for only one person to make a difference. Right?

Don't take this the wrong way--it is only an observation. I'm not going to off myself or anything. I'm too chicken for that.

But really, it doesn't matter what I say here because I think only one or two people read this on a regular basis. I could say something crazy like "I got a tattoo on my left butt cheek of Obama's face," and I bet no one I know would say anything to me about it. Now the question is, did I really do that?

There are a lot of things you can do if you think no one is watching. It goes back to that question: If a tree falls in a forest, does it still make a sound? I probably got that wrong. I feel like I left out a crucial detail. It's like crying in the rain--no one can tell if its raindrops or tears on your face and no one asks about your face being all red and poofy because the rain makes for dim lighting, and even if you were asked about your face you could always blame it on allergies or pink eye. And then no one asks you any more questions and you are free to continue crying in the rain, probably alone.

Since I have no audience it doesn't matter how I end this post either, so really I could do it like this

Monday, June 4, 2012


Who isn't stressed?

But honestly, stress sucks. And I've had more than enough lately. I was grumpy today for no real reason that I could think of. I was okay with the sprinkly rain and with moving at a more relaxed pace, but I suppose the latter just wasn't in the cards. I'm tired. Tired of so many things and just wanting other issues to be solved. It can all be overcome, it is just a process of getting to that point that is nerve-wracking and stress-inducing and I can't shake the glumness that is put on me as a result. I think today was just destined to be that day.

It didn't help that I relieve stress sometimes via a game on my phone (Jewels, or Bejeweled, or whatever it is called) which was dead practically all weekend. Oh well. Now I've got it charging again and that's all that matters really. I should really find other ways to relieve stress than relying on an electronic game. I should also find a different method for time keeping. Or I suppose I could give that up entirely. Well, maybe not all the way. Maybe I could just care less about what time it is as long as I am moving forward and making progress on my goals that I have. Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.

For now, I am too tired to continue to write anything else that is either relevant or coherent so I'm done for now. And no, I won't be reading Frankenstein before bed as I'm too tired and too preoccupied to really focus on the language. I love you Mary Shelley, but dang girl. You gotta let up on your reader sometimes.

Until the next blip--

Saturday, June 2, 2012

#58--Six Months Later

So as it turns out, I never update this thing, and friends like Jason get upset because I haven't been posting all semester. For this I apologize sincerely. Spring was a very busy time for me, what with graduate school and all. I met new people, learned to leave things in the past, and generally speaking had a good spring semester. I did great in my classes and my classes that I taught did pretty well too. Most recently, I have attended graduation and celebrated with friends, congratulated others on jobs they've accepted, and mainly been working on various projects I have for myself this summer.

I have been intending to work on my thesis over this summer, and I suppose you can say I've been making progress as far as that goes. I've been reading Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, which is the main literature I'm focusing on for my thesis. I have learned that I shouldn't read it before I sleep, not because it is scary (which it isn't, exactly) but because I end up having really WEIRD dreams afterwards. I am mostly done with it now even though I'll end up re-reading it several times. This particular story is also a prime example of (again) how movies and different interpretations of a piece of work cannot be trusted. People might say that books aren't important, but without them, no one would know the full story as it was originally written.

I've dyed my hair a couple of times this year to attempt a darker hair color overall. I like the darker colors, but it fades more quickly than I'd like for it to. (Random)

I realize that I don't care about my transitions as I write this post and I guess that's okay. Because really, who needs transitions in informal writing anyway? I think I am just tired of writing infrequently on this thing, and then ending up writing summaries of my life for the last several months or year. I think this summer will be difficult since I'm broke, but it does allow a lot of opportunity and time to work on those things that I want to achieve.

So I mentioned my thesis already but I didn't give the topic and that's okay too because I'm slightly paranoid about people stealing my ideas. Having influences is one thing, but I'd rather not set myself up for a hassle later if I can avoid it. I'd rather keep some of these awesome ideas to myself so that I might actually craft them into the gloriousness that I know I can make them. And this tells me that "gloriousness" is spelled incorrectly, but what does blogspot know? It even says that blogspot is incorrect. Whatever.

Another project I have is more along the creative lines, and that's going to stay on the down-low until I have more to present. Not only that but I'd like to emphasize my slight paranoia at this point. I suppose though that it isn't so much me worrying about my ideas being used by others as having too much initial feedback and people's opinions interfering with what I'm trying to do. I understand that I am not the Almighty Writer, but I can pretend at least until I'm done and thus not have to worry about what other people think.

I had intended to go through all of my music files and organize them, which I successfully accomplished this week! Hooray completed goals! Now I just have to put everything back into iTunes and then double check my files with the cds that I have to make sure I didn't miss anything. After that I'll be able to update my iPad with new songs and I won't have to listen to the same old music anytime Alex & I decide to go anywhere. I already know that I lost my Supertramp files that were on my computer, but I still have the disc so that will be the first thing that I re-save to my computer, whenever I get around to putting all those cds worth of music on... which will likely be next week at the earliest. I don't see myself getting to that before Tuesday.

Today though, Alex had the day off, and between numerous phone calls and visits to our house by the landlord, etc., it was a long day. However, we did get some down-time in the afternoon when all we did was sit and enjoy each other's we both played on our individual laptops. Alex stumbled and I played Sims on Facebook, because I'm ultra classy like that.

It was too bad though that it was cold and rainy today, because it would have been nice to go on a long walk with Alex and the dogs. Perhaps that will have to be another day. It doesn't help that the light bulb in our living room burned out and we have to use the table lamps (gasp! first-world problem) so that makes it pretty dark in the living room. Oh well. Not like it matters much.

Otherwise, the summer shall be interesting and promises lots of visits among friends and lots of time management opportunities in balancing social aspects and projects. (I also need to organize all my files from this last  year, including textbooks and supplies that I can use again next year). I am okay with striking this balance though, as it will be crucial to get into a sort of routine so that I can actually accomplish that which I have listed out for myself. Thesis and the other writing project (previously alluded to) are both large projects, and the filing project will take at least a day or two, depending on my level of sloth. However, I feel like I can accomplish quite a bit this summer... I just have to do it.

In any case, this week has been unexpectedly hectic yet fun, and I anticipate next week to be .... much calmer. I am hoping also to submit some work to various journals (which will require research unless anyone has any current ideas?) and contests. Publication is what it is all about.

On a final note for today, it is late and we're going to Buzz Beach Ball tomorrow with friends so we will have an early start. Ciao!

Sunday, January 1, 2012

#57--Reflecting on 2011

2011 was an interesting year. A lot happened--some of it good, and some of it not so good. I'll start at the beginning.

In January Alex and I were living in KC with our friend Evan, and our dog Sydney, and Evan's dog Albert. It was a nice little place to live. I was jobless at the time, going a bit crazy trying to get interviews and then job offers following. I had a series of successful interviews at an insurance agency, and would have been inclined to take the job if it were not required that I drive my own vehicle to people's houses to talk about insurance and investments. I am a good salesman when it comes down to it, but me and my poor little Saturn would not have made it.

I finally found a job in late February working as an assistant editor at a literary magazine. That was perfect and I had fun doing it, and it was close to my apartment so driving to and from work was not an issue. After a time, I was unable to continue as they were unable to pay me the contracted rate. I stayed on for some time for a collaborative project, but eventually had to give that up to due to the location change and driving distance. After that I found a job at a BBQ restaurant as a waitress, and I did really well there. During this time I had an interview with career services at ESU to talk about my degree and how I was struggling in the job market. After his advice, I applied for graduate school at ESU, my alma mater. In the meantime, working at the BBQ place was fun, and the people were great. Toward the end of my time there, my father in law had a heart attack and was sent to the hospital. He eventually went through a quadruple bypass surgery. It was a tough time for everyone.

During all of that adventure and excitement, I learned that a friend of mine (one of my bridesmaids at my wedding, not six months before) had been mean, negative, annoying, and downright disrespectful to me and my husband by breaking glasses, spilling drinks on other people, being rude, talking about how her upcoming wedding would be better than mine, while her fiance harassed my family members and challenged a retired air force uncle. He even insulted our best man. I was furious when I found out these little details of things that were happening. When I found out that she (the perpetrator and now ex-friend) had invited my maid of honor to her wedding but not me, I was enraged. I called her out on it, to no avail. She pretended to care but didn't really. I removed her from my facebook friends, just to see if she'd notice or say anything to me, and she didn't. Later, when I returned to ESU for grad school, I saw her on campus. She had the nerve to talk to me like nothing was wrong, and then proceeded to tell her other friend about business of mine that was not business either one of them needed to know. I was furious. I saw her again a few more times and she walked right past me as if she hadn't seen me at all (when she looked right at me). But whatever--sometimes you lose people you thought were your friends. 

At this point, it was May. I had traded in my little Saturn for a Dodge Caliber. It was a great deal at the time--until we found out that we couldn't take the Caliber on the highway without it having to stop from the engine overheating. That was a whole new mess all to itself, consuming most of the summer. The dealer I got it from said there was nothing wrong with it, but there obviously was (and is). He turned out to be a pain in our side, and we found we could do nothing legally regarding the sale of the car when it knowingly had a problem. We couldn't be protected by the lemon law because we bought the vehicle used. Very frustrating. We found out later (months later) that we needed a new transmission in it. That's still on the to-do list.

Our lease expired at the KC apartment, and Evan stayed because his schooling was in that area. I had been accepted into graduate school and so we moved back to ESU the same night as that terrible tornado devastated Reading. It was dark as we were driving on the highway, so it was impossible to see anything regarding funnel clouds and the like. We made it safely. We had rented a place with another couple--two friends of ours, Jordan and Carol. We moved in, started the semester and were having a pretty good time. Alex was able to transfer his job to the location down here, so that was an easy transition for him--except that he went from driver to parts counter, so he did have to learn the computer system.

The first semester of graduate school and teaching Comp I was very interesting and a lot of fun. I found out how difficult it is to keep up or to regain your footing once you have fallen behind in your work (to all those undergrads out there: it gets worse when you procrastinate. Don't do it!) but I really enjoyed working with my students and they certainly kept class lively.

In October we celebrated Alex's birthday, our 1 year anniversary and my birthday as well. We went to Santa Fe over fall break as our belated honeymoon, and it was a lot of fun. We drove all the way there and back in Alex's big truck, and we had fun walking around, trying the food and seeing the Contemporary Art Museum as well as the Farmer's Market (which was HUGE!). We made it a tradition to buy a bottle of wine every year that we save and open the next year on our anniversary. Since we took our trip over fall break, we celebrated differently on the actual date of our anniversary by cooking dinner (all me) and having a romantic evening with our Barefoot Bubbly (thank you Erica!) a dinner of chicken alfredo (which was the first meal I ever cooked for him, in 2007), and by taking pictures on a disposable camera.

We traveled to my mom's house the weekend after fall break for a day, and I came home with a birthday puppy. He is a mini schnauzer and his name is Alfonz Doogie von Schnauzer. His mother was Victoria and his father was Buddy. He is brothers with Evan's dog, Albert Schnitzel von Schnauzer. We call him Fonz or Fonzie, and he is totally my little cuddle bug! He's still in the puppy stages now, but I don't think he's going to get much bigger. He's currently losing teeth left and right. I found one the other day stuck to Sydney's black fur. It was possibly the smallest tooth I've ever seen.

In October we went to a Halloween party at a friend's house. Alex, Ray and Lisa even went and got me an ice cream cake from Walmart. It was the first ice cream cake I'd ever had for my birthday, and they sang to me also. It was very fun. There were costumes, drinking, and game playing to be had at that party. Halloween was a bit of a turning point for several of us, and we have since found different paths. Halloween and the week after led to a whole slew of events that changed friendships and relationships to the point of no return. Our roommates broke up, Carol moved out, and Jordan said he'd be leaving too so we started looking for places. For awhile we thought it would be neat (and that we'd be able to afford) to buy a house. We toured through two houses that were fairly cheap considering their condition, location and the like, but we were unable to afford the downpayment, even with loans and other assistance. It was nearly heartbreaking because the house we found was gorgeous with all wood floors (pine) and original wood trim, leaded windows, a foyer, a staircase with a carpet runner glued down, and an attic space that looked like it walked right out of Edward Scissorhands. Not to mention a fireplace on the main level, new stone tile counter tops and range in the kitchen, and a claw foot tub upstairs, a spacious yard with a privacy fence, a one-car garage, off street parking, a porch and a covered balcony on the upstairs master bedroom.

Once we discovered we would be unable to buy, we started looking for rentals. Jordan said he would be moved out by December 1, so we needed to find a place pretty quickly. We weren't having much luck. Then one day I went to the basement to change the laundry. Alex was upstairs. I got to the basement and heard a voice talking. I shrugged it off as the tv sound echoing through the air vents. But then I remembered that the tv wasn't on. Then I thought maybe it was Alex on the phone, but after a moment or two, it did not sound like Alex's voice. So I paused and listened. Then the person (male) who was apparently having a conversation over the phone, went up the stairs behind me and into the kitchen. I did not turn around to look at them. I calmly finished changing the laundry, filled the basket with the dry stuff, and returned upstairs to where Alex was sitting. I told him someone was in the house. He went to check it out, and found Riley, a friend of Jordan's, that Alex and I had only met briefly once before. Riley apologized, explaining that he thought no one was home, and proceeded to wait in the living room for Jordan to arrive. This all occurred around midnight. Alex then took the dogs outside at my request since I didn't want to walk them. That's when a few more random guys showed up on our front porch and were entering the house. Alex asked them to wait and told them Jordan wasn't home yet, but they responded with "It's okay, Riley's home." Only Riley doesn't live here either. I was about to call the cops (and really, Alex should have let me). I was so mad at Jordan. While Alex finished walking the dogs, I heard other voices as they all went downstairs, calling Alex an asshole. I was beyond pissed, and told Alex what I heard as he came in. I took the dogs upstairs while he went to the basement to talk to those guys. There were now 5 random people in our basement and Jordan still wasn't home. Two of them were apologetic and three were being rude, but none of them would wait outside. Finally when Jordan got home around 1 a.m., Alex let him have it, and we knew it was time for us to leave. Jordan apologized but I didn't believe it and it didn't sound sincere (yes I was eavesdropping). Then Jordan and his buddies boxed until about 3 a.m., even though it was a weeknight and we told them we both had to get up early and that the basement sounds resonate clear up into our bedroom on the second floor. A few days later, Alex told me to look seriously for new places to live, so I went driving around on Saturday Dec 3 for new places. Monday we gave our notice to the landlord and Wednesday we were moving out. Longer story short, we kept telling Jordan he needed to put utilities in his name and we were leaving, which he ignored, and it ended up being a whole big mess with the landlord, who decided to yell at me for Jordan's slacking. I straight up told the landlord that I was not Jordan's mother and therefore not responsible for his action or lack thereof. And yes I used big words, lol. Alex and I found a cute little place several blocks away and have settled in nicely, though not everything is put away quite yet. We finished out the fall semester in the new place, and had Christmas and a small New Year's party here as well.

Overall, 2011 was a stressful year. The good things we've got from this was we got to keep Alex's dad around (he had a pacemaker put in the day before Thanksgiving), we found out who our friends really were, and Alex and I have been able to move into our own place, just us and the pups, no roommates or close neighbors. Today is only the first day of 2012, but since 2010 was a year of gain, and 2011 a year of loss, 2012 should be pretty awesome. :) 

Until next time--