freedom and jelly

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 22:09:11 GMT

So Classic.

Mon, 26 Oct 2009 21:55:24 GMT

Fiiiinally. Pictures. Labor and delivery were just about perfect. Couldn't have planned it better. I had a non-stress test scheduled for 9am on Oct. 5th because she was overdue. While I was *already at the hospital*, I started having real contractions (as oppose to the fake ones I had been having on and off for hours on end during the week leading up to her birth - that was annoying). She was born at 6:43pm that day, 7lbs 2 oz. Went natural, thankfully no problems to keep me from following through with that. It did end up being back labor, if you know what that means. Really, it just means it hurt in my lower back way more than in the front, cause she was facing down instead of up. Her head was down, that wasn't the problem, just facing the wrong way. Gah. After three weeks I still haven't really collected my thoughts. I know the experience was tremendous, beautiful, painful, and totally worth it. But, I won't be doing that again for a while. I still think being pregnant was harder than taking care of a baby. At least now I can put the weight down. And when I finally do what makes her stop crying, it's like a thrill-ride.
I feel like I know her pretty well. But sometimes... sometimes, I just don't know what the hell she wants. You run through the obvious, hunger, bad diaper, too hot/cold, uncomfortable, tired or overstimulated... sometimes they just cry. Just cause. Isn't that ridiculous? I guess I do it sometimes too. How many times can I use the word sometimes? Nah, just kidding. She's starting to get over sleeping most of the day and night, and her nap started about an hour ago, so I'm guessing I have about half an hour to chill. I will say one thing about housework, I've finally learned how to keep up with my dishes. It was inevitable.

Vera Mackenzie.

Even Cincinnati looks pretty viewed over the face of a sleeping baby.

He's amazing. She's amazing.

I know this one is almost exactly like the last one, but this was still at the hospital, and it was the day after she was born, so that makes it way awesome, as does the little smirk on Corey's face. Though both pictures appear to be color-coordinated, it was not planned. If I don't have time to shower, I don't have time to dress my husband and baby for pictures. Fun coincidences though.

She's three weeks old today!

Tue, 01 Sep 2009 18:17:46 GMT

Though I wonder about how I will handle raising a child when I can barely get through days without getting depressed and/or angry *now*, after reading posts on babycenter.com, I find that most moms experience new-found anger issues after giving birth. There are the typical questions... is it hormonal, is it societal, is it a fundamental flaw in one's personality, is it just an inability to live in the present and take things as they come... can I change my over-scheduled life to fit in more time for relaxation, should I take medication, yoga? Well, I know first and foremost that for me, my anger problem is extreme here and now, and though my gut tells me I can handle it when the baby cries a lot for no apparent reason and that I can handle a devastating lack of sleep, I worry that my anger will explode unexpectedly and create emotional trauma for an innocent being. It already explodes over the littlest things, that I then rationalize and tell myself that my anger was okay because it wasn't just about the little thing, it was that I felt neglected or betrayed. I think I need to understand how easy it is for me to feel neglected or betrayed, and that the offender hasn't intentionally done anything to make me feel that way. He looks at life differently. He doesn't live like one could die any second... which in my mind seems heretical, because what can you appreciate if you don't also acknowledge it could be over in an instant? But, what can you appreciate if you're in constant fear and anxiety? I guess there's some middle ground. Something I've never been good at. God I can see it, what it would feel like to really just STOP, and be calm, and know that life is just life, and that the answers don't have to exist, that I don't need to know why we breathe and why the world is put together the way it is and why I can't have constant affection or why I feel so alone when someone decided they'd *marry* this fucked up piece of shit. And how could I have a baby when half the world can't feed their children and why in this economy and basically worry about every little thing.... You just can't stop the circle of life. People have children because they are in love, because to experience the joys of new life is unprecedented, to remind you of your own inner child, to teach you new lessons and force you to grow and adapt all the time... and people have kids because they didn't mean to and just don't appear to care, and because they didn't mean to but have the presence of mind to make the best of it. I see it so often in the healthcare clinic, angry moms who snap at their kids for fidgeting in their chairs... I know I don't know how their day has been before that, I don't know what the kid did that morning to upset their mother, to make her irritable, but I suspect it was nothing much more than a kid being a kid, and adults forget how to deal with that, or often just don't try. I'm sure it's difficult to be that present every day, but is it not a worthy endeavor, for your sake and the child's? I'm sure I'm overlooking the difficulty in just trying to get a kid dressed and ready to be somewhere on time, but, I've never been one to acknowledge the importance of time or deadlines, I just do stuff, and when it gets done it gets done. Not that I plan on being late for everything all the time just so I don't have to scold my child, but I think putting the pressure of unnecessary restrictions on a kid is just pointless. I want her to stay young and free as long as possible. I'm sure at some point, in the heat of the moment, I'll forget and snap and say "hurry up! just get over here and put on your shoes, there's no time for this!" but I think essentially trying to remember what life is about will go a long way in preventing many of the explosions of anger I currently struggle with. I already feel the pressure lifting. And, if I can't choose to not be angry or frustrated, I can certainly choose how I expel those emotions, and may I never direct them at her. I grew up in such a hostile environment that even seeing another parent smack a kid in the rear end just once makes my face flush and I get all nervous and twitchy inside. I never ever want my kid to feel like that. I heard a child apologize for being a child, and it made my heart break. However difficult it may be for me to control my emotions, I know that I'm an adult and that somewhere inside of me are the tools to handle myself. Children haven't developed those tools, and it's up to me to teach her. So I need to learn fast. Thank goodness for A Place of Our Own on PBS every weekday morning. They constantly remind you that you are your child's first teacher, and that the best thing you can do is just listen to your kid. Quit thinking your schedule is the most important thing in the world, and just exist. My next worst problem is my extremely low tolerance for stupidity. I see parents let their kids run through the middle of parking garages, not thinking that the child is shorter than the back of a car and that someone pulling out might not see them, I see them let their kids wander aimlessly ten, twenty feet behind them, not watching, not keeping track, at the same time not interacting with and using every opportunity to teach their children. It always struck me as odd, a parent walking through the front door of the grocery store and their kid wandering in ten seconds behind them, or they'll turn around at the door with this bewildered expression on their face like "huuuuh? where'd my kid go?" It's like, geez, did you forget you had one? Are you really so trusting of everyone around you that you just let your kid walk alone among strangers? What about all the vehicular traffic just fifteen feet away? Protect your progeny dipshit. But, I can't worry about what others do. I can only do my best with my own. Well, I'm done hypothesizing for the day. Time to wait and relax and hope my baby's healthy and strong.

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 00:16:41 GMT

Today a customer at work asked me how long I have left, and she may or may not have pointed to my stomach, but I squinted at the clock and said "Ohhh, about twenty minutes." She looked at me funny.

Can't be havin this job where all I think about is when I get to leave. So, my last day is officially Thursday. I think my life will vastly improve. I can't wait to go to school, start flexing my brain muscles in a capacity beyond which my novels and non-fictions can obtain, start writing again, work my job in which I don't encounter so many assholes... man... it's almost like I should never be sad again. But I know that won't happen. Just take it as it comes. I seriously almost fell into the trap of just living and not trying to do anything with myself. It was easier, but not particularly fulfilling. I believe I waited the exact right amount of time to go back. I know what I want to do, I know I'm old enough to ignore the drama of the average freshman. Didn't plan on having a kid, but I almost think that'll motivate me even more. About six months into her life, I'll slowly start piecing together my college career. Oh man, I'll have to start writing essays again. That'll be the real academic test of how much I've grown, if I can write an essay without obsessing and falling apart over it. Maybe I should practice or something. Ha, yea right.

My downstairs roommate is reneging on her lease and moving out three months before the end, citing water damage and mold that's technically been there since the beginning. I really think my insanely stupid landlord is somehow going to try to blame me, or all of us, for it, and be really pissed. But I'm not sure she can take it to court, because I don't believe this house was ever inspected, and half the shit never worked, and the house should probably technically be condemned. I'm just jealous, because she actually has somewhere else to go, and we don't yet. Plus, the landlord let us live for free for like, six months in a little apartment elsewhere, while she was taking this house from a non-live-able state to a semi-live-able state, and she's a friend of my mom's, so I feel a bit obliged to stick it out. Just three more months. That's not terrible. Once, when my neighbor was late on the rent, the landlord tried to bitch at *me* about it. She was like "I only have one lease for you guys!!" and I was like, "Yea, and her name is on it, separately, so talk to her [shit face!]" I also don't think she was supposed to turn this into a two-family house. So any taking us to court would just backfire on her. And she's too busy to remember we're here unless, apparently, rent is late. Heaven forbid she return my calls about a non-working fridge, or a window that can't be used. But two days after the rent grace period is up, ring ring. Fuck her.

I seem to have this affinity for choosing to read a book at the exact time in which it can fully relate to my own life. Not all the time/every book, because that'd be ridiculous. I'm finishing up I Know This Much Is True by Wally Lamb. If you've read it... by god, you'll know what I mean. Well, Wally Lamb has a way of relating everything in life to what's happening with his characters. Perhaps it's a more fair assessment to say that he's just one of the best writers ever, and that almost anyone sincerely reading his books will be able to relate to most of what he's saying whether they've gone through the exact scenario or not. I already read She's Come Undone and The Hour I First Believed. I'm kind of sad he doesn't have any more novels at the moment. Just a non-fiction on the structure of poetry/songwriting, which is probably still interesting, but I probably won't read it. I'm thinking of getting back into Emerson, or maybe reading one of the books I read in World Views, like Nichomachean Ethics or someshit. I remember a lot of it, and my notes are still in the margins. Might be interesting... maybe I can write an essay on that! My issue has always been not being able to dissect the essay topic and only talk about it without wanting to talk about the entire book. So, we'll see. We will see. I bet after I read Tuesdays With Morrie, I'll want to talk to Dr. Berger again. It's never weird to reconnect, right?

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 00:39:36 GMT

when did i stop being metaphoric?
i want everything to be beautiful again.

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 00:25:40 GMT

Ah, the internet. The final frontier.

http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article14615.htm (If you haven't seen V for Vendetta, don't watch unless you're ok with bits of the plot being revealed. No, watch it anyway.)

And, http://www.truth-it.net/
http://www.truth-it.net/embedded_rfid.html, on the microchip

For my own references, and yours.

Sat, 08 Aug 2009 18:21:32 GMT

Wow, I feel exceptionally good today. Today, the sun is bright, it's hot but I don't have to go outside, the breeze inside is cool because I live in the woods, and little by little, I'm getting the motivation to gather myself and do useful things. The music iTunes has been playing has been awesome, without any direction from me. I love it when all the lyrics seem to apply directly to my situation. It still upsets me that there's someone walking around out there who feels justified in telling me that I don't care about my child just because I smoked a little bit of weed, when I've done everything in my power to do everything right (always eat well, take my prenatal vitamin every day, do the light exercises suggested in my baby books, go to every doctor's appointment, etc...), and weed doesn't hurt babies, and especially when she herself smokes weed *and* cigarettes, even though not around her kid, cigarette smoke lingers and actually has chemicals, carcinogens, nasty shit in it that sticks to your clothes and still affects kids. But, like Josh Ritter says, "If they can't find a way to help her they can go to hell". What, exactly, did being a bitch get her? Absolutely nothing. Hope she's happy. Maybe it did do something. Maybe it motivates me to be better than her. A better mom, a better person, someone who wants to make something out of her life, rather than sit around and judge others and always try to one-up friends. She can have IGA. I'm quitting in the next couple weeks. And I'm *so* *fucking* *happy*. I can't describe how much I've grown to hate that job.
We got the baby a dresser, and put it in her room, and made space for a changing table. And that's all that needs to be done until we move out in a few months. Yesterday started the eighth month she's been inside me. Every day I get a little stronger, a little more able to eat... yesterday I actually finished dinner before it got cold! That's like, incredible. After the shower, we'll see what else, like maybe a bassinet, we need. I really lucked out in the in-laws department. All his grandparents are still around, while I have none, and they're super excited and monetarily inclined. I'm so anxious, in a good, excited way. I can see a life I want to live laid out before me. All I have to do is go with the flow, do things in good time. Give myself the right balance of relaxation and productivity. Let Corey help, let him in when I get in my moods, realize all he ever does is try to help, not hold anything against him, because life is too short. Mmm, I love my cats. A lot. At the moment, I quite love everything. Every song that comes on is beautiful, anything I could do with my day seems full of possibilities... so different from just two days ago, when nothing seemed to matter. I smelled weed on this dude buying a black n mild at UDF last night, and it made me wistful instead of sad and angry and jealous. Well, a little jealous ;)

Second day of the eighth month. Wowza.

I am happy about it, but I still don't know how to smile for the camera...

...as made fairly evident, even when I am giddy.

I just love this guy.

He plays with me.

And they don't use their claws on each other when they tumble. K no more kitty pictures.

Thanks for reading.

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 12:32:40 GMT

There's so many things that would be awesome to do, but that I only mildly care about. Starting with the simple, I would revamp my livejournal. It's had the same background since I was in, like, the tenth grade. I should maybe stop anonymously checking up on people I knew in high school and really reconnect, or just stop. (Even though just ten minutes ago I got a facebook so I could continue doing just that.) As colorful and unique as my inner world is, my outer world has been absurdly bland, almost typical, really really boring. I'm probably going to quit IGA very soon and work solely at the pastel company. At least being surrounded by art, and never by assholes, is a move in the right direction. I can be a part of the community different ways... joining library clubs, finding other new moms in the city for me and my kid to play with. I can't fucking believe I'm going to have a kid. Every day it gets closer, and I get simultaneously more panicked, more surreal, but happier. Maybe I need to get out of Cincinnati altogether. Most of the really close friends I had have moved on, probably not coming back. The ones that are here are busy, involved in their own projects, and to be honest I'm not sure I have the energy to keep up with them. I'm tired of just chillin', though.
Aside from finally learning html and doing something cool with my livejournal, which means nothing, I want to be knee-deep in something I care about. I hate this house, and I keep using waiting to move as an excuse to do nothing. I could at least start learning. I do want to live with my brother and his daughter, like we tentatively planned, and that would mean staying here for a while. I want to build compost heaps and worm farms and recycling bins and water barrels, and ride bikes more than I drive, and never buy bottled water, and eat organically from a garden in the back... I know there are people in Cincinnati who are interested in, and do, these things. But it seems like the ones who are real hardcore about it move away. I guess I could always start small. A couple years of slowly moving toward an ultimate goal is far better than a month of useless shit. I need to learn a new way to focus without smoking weed. On the one hand it's like "well that seems natural", on the other hand it's like "why can't I just smoke like I wanna?" Can't have both.
At least I finally have all the information I could ever want at my fingertips. I just need to learn to sift through the information and get the facts. I also plan to be a forerunner in legalizing marijuana. I have an outline planned out in my head. I realize people have tried, and it's the government's job to lie to the people, but, well, what else can I do? It's one of the things I truly care about.
THIS I can certainly attest to. Last time I tried to quit smoking for an extended period of time (I think I made it about three days), I ended up in the hospital with acute alcohol poisoning. There's no chance of that now that I'm pregnant, so something else will have to occupy my time. I'm pretty sure it's legalizing it. If I can't smoke it, I'm damn well still gonna love it.

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 01:16:07 GMT

I keep having pretty good starts, then sometime between two and four hours after I wake up, everything goes to shit. Seems like it's worse when I try to just ignore things and be normal, except when it comes to eating. I do need to just ignore the nausea, the tenseness in my veins, and just eat. Even if I end up getting sick, some form of nutrition has entered my body, and I can try again next time.
What I need to stop trying to ignore is the fact that there is something very wrong with my head. It doesn't rationalize correctly without weed. Sounds like an excuse right? Or, according to a once-friend, a manipulative lie to get what I want. How the hell does anybody but me know what I want? What I truly want is normalcy, a sense that I can just get up, get something healthy to eat, enjoy a nice morning of reading or listening to music or, now that I have the internet at home (!!!!), surfing the web, and not feel all twisted up, worrying about everything, dreading the next tragedy that will obviously happen in the next few hours. And later in the day, I can go to work, realize that not every person I see has some ulterior motive, that they're not all just looking for their next opportunity to be vindictive to a stranger, that, oh my god, some people are actually nice. I want true friends, that don't judge my character and think they know how I should live my life just because they know someone else with a mental illness who acted a certain way. I think it's a title I at least have to accept, if not embrace. I have a mental illness, and it's bi-polar II, and weed helps. Simple as that.
My doctor is fine with the fact that I just recently quit. In fact, she's happy for me. Can't say the same for one of the only people I thought I could talk to. I'm just so pissed. She lived with me for a damn year, and suddenly I'm just like her sister because I'm bi-polar, not *me*, who actually doesn't lie to or manipulate anybody. I don't see what my personal preferences have to do with that anyway. Plus, how would she know what's an "act" and what's not? She's only known me since weed has, mostly, kept this shit in check. Even Nancy, who is about as politically minded as a person can be, respected me. And why can't people do research before going on and on about how much marijuana harms a fetus, when it most clearly does not? All it took was a few seconds just to find this article. I'm sure one could find evidence to prove any theory you'd want to uphold, but you have to be aware that your evidence could be tarnished with results of combined testing, or misleading information.
Well, Corey is home from work. Since he hates his job so much, and he puts up with it for me and for us and now for a baby, I'll let him play with the internet on our first night with it. Yay.

Tue, 21 Jul 2009 17:46:19 GMT

So, reconnecting to my roots, hanging out with people who actually know something about me, people I can talk to who don't jump to conclusions and assume they know what's right for me without knowing what I've been through and the things that I do and think, aside from the obvious, turns out to be good for me. Better than some know-it-all bitching at me to do something I had already planned to do, in my own time and way, and had slowly been getting closer to that goal. Today is our first day weed free. I feel scattered and physically a bit ill, but otherwise excited for the new opportunities it will allow. We'll have a lot more money, a lot more flexibility, more stress in some ways but less in others. I'm in the middle of week 29 of pregnancy, so I'm even a little ahead of my projected quit date, which was at 30 weeks. So all the know-it-all really succeeded in doing was losing a friend. Not like we were ever that close to begin with. Someone who hasn't known me fairly well since at least my senior year of high school just doesn't *know*.
Then again, what have even I known about myself since then? That weed calms me down, evens out the bullshit, allows me to think and function on a somewhat normal field.. but perhaps hinders creativity, has maybe kept me from doing a lot of things I'd otherwise do, like write or paint. I have wonderful ideas when I smoke, ideas that make life make more sense. But maybe it's the confusion, the pure chaos of life, that really makes a person alive. I got so stuck in my routine I barely even hung out with anyone... but I was eating and sleeping. Over the past few months we've cut down the smoking so much, from a half a week (between the two of us) to an eighth a week, that I think I can see a middle ground, but I have to be clean for labor and delivery so I don't have to deal with a social worker. Maybe I could have asked for medication... in the beginning of my doctor visits my doctor said if I have too hard of a time quitting we could look into other things to help me. But at this point, if I have to be clean of the one thing that's ever helped me after all the meds I tried in high school, I might as well just be clean of everything. Quitting cigarettes, piece of cake, quitting drinking easy-peasy. This... not so much. But I'm dealing. Better than usual.
Maybe the life inside me makes my own life clearer. I can more easily see that at one point, I *did* deal with this without weed. I wrote... ALL the time. It was never anything special, just a way to manage the massive overload of thoughts, sad or happy. It's mostly the physical things I worry about, my body rejecting food because it's used to having herbal aide in digestion, the physical depression that makes me feel like I'm sinking, drowning, unable to break the current of dread and fear. Where does it come from? A manifestation of all the things I never dealt with, or pure, unadulterated psychosis? I thought I had dealt with at least most of those things, but somehow, I'm just not that much better. Perhaps someday I'll be able to write stories and novels about things that matter, but I'm still too self-involved to come up with anything. That'll probably change with child. There's no time to be this self-involved. I have to remember to take care of it though, so I can take care of her. If my premonitions serve me correctly, she'll be the very thing that takes care of me.

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 20:50:07 GMT

There is nothing for me to do except sit up in this study/office, avoid Corey's parents, and wait for him to finish working on the car. I wish I didn't feel so messed up. I could try to blame it on the pregnancy, but I pretty much know it's just me. Some days are good, most are shitty. Maybe if the house we live in were more functional, maybe if the landlord ever took any of my requests to fix our fridge seriously, maybe if we were more financially secure, maybe if we didn't get into so many fights, maybe if it seemed like anywhere inside Corey's brain he was thinking about just me instead of always relating himself to everything, maybe if all those things were true, I wouldn't feel this way. We're like, completely disconnected. I'm sure *some* of it is due to all the crazy hormones and fucked up shit that goes with having a baby grow inside you... but I also figured thinking about the baby should make me happy. There will soon be something to distract me from feeling like Corey isn't paying attention, a living breathing being completely dependent on me to show her love and kindness... and I can't muster up a decent 'I love you' to the man I married...
Ugh I feel so discombobulated. My mom said I need some kind of support network, because she knows I always let little problems weigh on my shoulders and I don't get help and eventually it turns into a big crisis. Why shouldn't I be able to handle my emotions on my own? They are mine... but maybe someone else has experienced them and has some kind of insight on it, or at least the knowledge that I'm not alone. Whatever though, everyone is always busy and I don't know how to efficiently explain myself and conversations about feelings usually end up pointless or embarrassing. When I get to talking, I tend to tell myself I never should have worried to begin with, that everything I feel is unfounded or irrelevant. I'm sure at some point in time they will be, but at the present, it all feels very real. I'm not the kind of person who just breaks down and calls someone for help. We all know that life is hard, that it's easy to feel lost and confused, and that someday things get better. I just wish I could believe that last part. Reading through old entries, seems like I've had the same complaint about Corey for the last year or more, that he just isn't paying attention. He goes to work, he makes money, but he constantly complains, and when I do things like cook or clean or be loving and affectionate, it doesn't make his day any better. Maybe this is one of those instances where you just can't change a man. He is the father of my child, so maybe we just need to have a dispassionate life in which things work practically but not emotionally, so that my baby can have two parents. It's easy for me to turn off, to just function and not care, as long as it stays that way. What I can't do is this back and forth, where one day he seems in tune and we're on the same wavelength, then for the next few he's switched back off. Can we please just pick one and stay there? Geez.
Maybe the only irregular thing in my life affects me much more than I thought it did, which is my job at IGA. I regularly work completely irregular hours, but the imbalance is still there. Like 1-6 Thursdays and 5-10:30 Saturdays, Sundays are always unknown until Saturday night, and only recently I picked up a shift on Mondays... though the schedule is always the same ('cept the dreaded sundays), it doesn't allow much flexibility of my time. It greatly conflicts with Corey's schedule, especially when I try to fit the pastel job in there too. Just today, the pastel place offered me a real not-under-the-table job, securing at least twenty hours a week, and in cash until they get me on a real payroll. That job would just be me and my two bosses, and it'd be so laid back and wonderful except for how hot it is up there in that factory, especially now while I'm pregnant and can't overheat too much. I think I'd actually miss IGA a little. Some of the regulars have made it past the exterior and I feel genuinely comfortable with them. I almost feel like I'm part of the community, working there. Ideal situation would be keeping one or two of my IGA days, making them morning/midafternoon shifts, and dominantly working at the pastel place. I just don't want to make any decisions I'll regret, because both jobs let me take any needed breaks, but the pastel job is just so freaking hot in the summer. And IGA pays me way better, even after taxes. Damn. I should make a decision. I bet working at the pastel place would allow a freer social life, one in which I felt like I could do things and go places, and probably work around college too. The bosses are closer to friends, and I bet they'd let me bring a little fan to keep on myself, and do mostly sitting down jobs... something I can't say for IGA no matter how much I like it, and despite the air conditioning. The only other problem, is that the pastel place has a harder time predicting how much business they'll get, and in the past the amount of hours they allow me has been dependent on their productivity. Right now business is booming, but what about in six months? What if the recession gets even worse, and the growth they see right now takes a downfall? Dag. Guess there's more to discuss with them. Guess I'm just trying to see where my life goes next. The addition of the baby is one thing, but I still need to make the right decisions for me. I suppose they, in turn, become the right decision for her. I'm not really worried about her crying all the time, or her poop or puke, I'm worried I won't be able to provide for her, that I can't make decisions that will keep her safe and happy. Again, I read in my parenting books that the fact that I'm even thinking about these things is a good sign I'll do what's right when the time comes, because being a bad parent isn't about whether or not you make mistakes, it's about whether or not you care. That's one thing I can say for sure - I definitely care.
Earlier in the entry I certainly felt everything I said, but now I feel bad for it. I don't think we should have a dispassionate life in which things function practically but not emotionally. I don't think it's possible. I know Corey has a hard time expressing himself, and I should just believe him when he says he loves me and that he doesn't know why it doesn't show. It's just so fucking hard. "Cause I want life in every word to the extent that it's absurd..." Perhaps I just need to lighten up, because when things are good (which is more often than I let myself think), they really are good.

Tue, 05 May 2009 01:48:12 GMT

This is inside of me.

A real update has been a long time coming. There are people and things I have ignored, neglected, or entirely given up on. I can't say why. I try to trace my path through time since the graduation of high school. I think that's when I officially stopped having a plan. I think I wanted to make life a little easier for a while, see what came of not thinking too hard, as everything bad I ever experienced seem to come directly from myself. Maybe if I ignored myself for long enough, I wouldn't be who I was. But, once again, I lacked the knowledge and the testicular fortitude to make anything out of nothing. So now I have a chance to be something. Maybe I can stop feeling sorry for myself, stop telling myself I've made so many mistakes, and hurt so many people. When I take a good look at it, the two people I blamed myself for hurting the most kind of hurt me pretty badly too. So maybe I can stop feeling guilty. Maybe I can truly love the one I'm with, the father of my child, without wondering what could have been, had I been a different person. But I ain't. What's happened has happened, and everyone else has probably moved on except for me. I do not mean to say I regret my marriage, or any time spent with Corey. Sometimes, I just wonder. When I really look at it, nothing happened that shouldn't have, and I don't think I could change anything. I need to stop living in the past, stop trying to reel myself in every morning, thinking I need to meditate on aspects of myself that are perhaps better left buried. I have a chance to really do something now, and I need to stop being such a scaredy-cat. Specifically:

James: I'm sorry I never got back to you, via email or phone or anything at all. I do want to reconnect. The last time we hung out I think we were just trying to get a feel for the people we now are, which for me isn't all that different, yet somehow less bold. I think I'm about to reenter the world of the living. So watch out.

Alex: Again, you try to numerous times to contact me and I just put it off and put it off until I feel too embarrassed to call. I don't want to lose you as a friend and have to find you on facebook or someshit just to reconnect. Keep calling me when you come into town. I don't wanna blow you off any longer. I'm sorry.

Maia: I know I promised I'd call. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to reconnect, I just wasn't aware of how bad my isolation had become. I don't think I remember what it means to just talk on the phone because you enjoy the other person. I wish I hadn't missed your visit to town, and I kick myself every day for letting all these friendships fall to the wayside. I have much less going on in my life than you do, so you probably need another friend less, but I hope I'm still in the running.

New York Ben: If you ever still read this, how are you? I'm sure the letter writing stopped on my end. If you feel like it, maybe email me your current contact information? (globeitup@yahoo.com) I still think of you, and wonder what's up.

You: Why you never call or text back? Was it some manipulative tactic to get back at me for something I didn't even intend to do? Wasn't it obvious that I would have been yours, or did you just not care anymore? I felt you more than anyone.... I don't think you'll ever read this, or know anything about me ever again, I just wish I knew why you completely abandoned me. I thought we were more honest than that.

I don't have the internet and I got a new phone (same number), but all the contacts are gone and I can't find my old one that had all my numbers.... so, I'm screwed until I find the old phone, or people don't hate me enough to call and leave their numbers in my voicemail because no matter how good I get at talking, I don't think I'll ever be that good at answering. (CRAZY) I know I suck. I will try to do so less.

Don't get me wrong, I am excited about the little bun in the oven, and I do love Corey. I just get hung up on shit, and it overwhelms all, and that is what I've been experiencing.

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 13:27:31 GMT

I... am... MARRIED!!

I really like it.

I think I'm taking well to it.

I felt very calm, very serene, very... secure.

Like, this guy might actually want to be with me then, since he went through the whole process of a wedding, and dealing with me during such processes, though I may say, I am quite laid back about things like this. It all went so smoothly. Only at the last second did I realize we never went through how the two bridesmaids and two groomsmen were going to stand, in what order, when to walk in, when to start the music, how to handle the vows and the rings... I guess this is why people have those rehearsal dinner things. Ah well.

It was like, the first thing my mom ever did to truly support me in something. She's never pushed me to succeed or say "I'm just disappointed in you" when I failed. So it never really seemed to matter what I did. When it came to college, she told me to get a plan of action together and get the process going myself, and she'd kick in with... what, exactly, by that point? The help I need is in getting started, getting motivated, having someone in my corner helping me achieve my goals. Sorry, it was never my mom. She didn't bother to care how I was doing in high school, not about my grades or if I was doing okay or if I hadn't come out of my room for anything but school in three months, so eager to let me deal with my issues by myself... I don't even know where I'm going like this. It just seems like after a lifetime of nonchalance regarding her daughter, she threw a pretty good wedding.

There are definitely things I can't blame her for. She didn't know how to be a mother because her own died in a car crash when she was like thirteen. So I'm sure her depression, her anger at the world, debilitated her as a mother when I started getting depressed and generally fucked up. No one really taught her how to handle life, so she didn't know how to teach me. And I asked so many philosophical questions, like how are we even moving around, how is life functioning, why doesn't gravity stop working, why are people so mean and rude and angry, and nothing really answers those questions except daily observation and solutions to individual situations... so confusion and drama consumed the first half of my life.

I'm already starting to see what's petty and what's important. Corey is really socially awkward, and sometimes I wish he would at least appear more excited about things, or more involved in thinking or with reality... sometimes it seems like he's just off in his own world and no matter how I beg him to look at what's in front of his face and do what needs to be done, he just can't stop the train of thought he's already begun, and it's frustrating... but I have to remember that there's plenty of time... most of the things I need/want him to do are not that urgent. That... "nothing is as pressing as the one who's pressing would like you to believe..." I've always been five minutes late, so what's the big deal that he takes so long to focus, that sometimes he seems emotionally dead (hey I am too sometimes), that it seems like I have to dig a million miles for a little bit of passion... but it's all good y'know. He loves me. I love him. It feels good to wake up every morning next to him. It feels good to hold his hand. It feels good to almost be leaving for our honeymoon. It feels good to know we have the rest of our lives to work things out. It's not about having the perfect relationship and getting married because everything is peachy, it's about promising that even when things aren't peachy, you love that person as a human being enough to take it on.

So like, we just hit a deer on our way to his parents house to get gift cards and put on new tires before the trip, like we're supposed to be almost done with all that and leaving soon... but instead our car is nearly totalled (god fucking deer, how the hell are you so strong?), we had to file a police report and an insurance claim and rent a fucking car just to go to Gatlinburg for four nights. Once we get there I'm sure it'll be great. But, uh, we're currently stranded. The deer came outta nowhere it's not like I can blame anybody. I'm always watching and I didn't even see the stupid thing. And deer are STUPID. Once I almost hit one, slowed down until I was nearly stopped right in front of it. I veered to the left to go around it, the fuckin thing turned it's majestic head and ran smack into the side of the truck. I mean, I don't even know what to compare that to.

I think we're about ready to go. Hoorah Gatlinburg!

Wed, 03 Sep 2008 20:46:13 GMT

Another hot, muggy fucking day in Cincinnati. This city is pretty, but I deeply hate the bureaucracy. It's indirectly destroyed my house by screwing with my landowner's properties, not allowing her to work on mine. It's destroyed my bank account with pointless citations for shit that never caused anybody any harm. And Chabot. What else is there to say? Fuck Chabot. I haven't seen our state represented like, ever.
I try to enjoy the beauty of the city, what with the rolling hills and lots of trees... but all I can think is "Oh my god I do not want to walk up this hill," and "Ew, there's poop by that tree." Even the beauty is being smeared by all the crap. Corey and I want to honeymoon in the Adirondack Mountains. Go skiing and canoeing and hiking and sexing in the woods. Hell yes. Our wedding will be so simple that a nice honeymoon will make it all feel glamorous. I'm finally coming to terms with getting married. Finally believing someone actually wants to be with me forever, that I'm worth it, learning not to regret my past relationships, or that I didn't learn to open myself up sooner, learning not to regret everything I won't get to do and appreciate what I otherwise wouldn't be able to do... I like synopsis, but telling the whole story would take forever. I've forgotten how to write precisely.
I will say, my old friend IGA Alex invited me out to the Shadowbox a couple weeks ago. Normally I'd deny myself such a treat under the pretense of wanting to just... stay home, watch a movie, relax, pet my lovely kitties, snuggle with the boyfriend, essentially... be boring. Thinking about how I always bitch about not having friends, yet rejecting any attempt from someone to hang out with me, I felt pretty stupid and accepted his invitation and had an absolutely wonderful time. Since then I've been working my ASS off to pay my hospital bills, our credit card bills and car payments, and to buy some food too, so I've been like, productive, active, almost happy, less aggressive, more accepting of people when they aren't being blatantly nasty, generally more willing to live and let live.
Which is not to say that I don't still think about how every little thing could go wrong. When you grow up just waiting for the next tragedy to befall you, you start thinking that's how it is and will always be. I needed years and years of proof that the next person I love isn't going to die early or betray me somehow. And I'm still getting there, to the point where every time Corey gets in his car without me I won't think I'll get a terrible phone call, "Kim Muir? You need to come to the hospital..." Or that when I leave my house it won't burn down, and my cats won't die or get lost, and no one will break in, and that I will be back sometime soon. Or that I myself won't just spaz out and die, freak aneurysm, random blood clot, stroke, heart attack, you name it I've imagined myself dying from it. But that shit doesn't just happen. You'd think I'd learn from watching House that even if something like that *does* happen, I probably won't just, die... I'd have a day, maybe a few, maybe even longer, to sort everything out, say my goodbyes, tie loose ends, all that. Heaven knows, the day I get over actually *wanting* to die, I'd develop a phobia of constant death. It's always fuckin' somethin' isn't it.
Anyway, I hope to dive into the ocean, not just stick my toes in.

Wed, 16 Jul 2008 21:31:47 GMT

I gotta quit feeling so depressed. I need to stop worrying. What I worry about isn't in my control, what I don't worry about is in my control and not going so well, because of all the worrying I do about things I can't control. I think people are getting braver, which is good and bad. You need to be brave to accomplish certain things in life, but it's making them haughty, disdainful, like they think they know how to live life better. Maybe I'm just projecting my own fear that I'm not living up to my potential...which is less a fear than an acknowledged fact... it's like... I fucking finally know what I want to do, fucking *finally*... and I was so relieved to discover it, I almost became complacent again. Yea, I could keep working at IGA until I get more hours at the pastel company, I could throw myself into this company and do pretty well as a post production manager, especially for someone without a college degree... but do I really give a shit about pastels? I love art, I love artists, I love drawing with pastels, but do I *really* care about making them? I'd be supplying a group of people with the tools they need to tap into the beyond, which in turn, kinda taps me into the beyond too. But I wanna do the tapping! I wanna be at the front lines of the tapping on the unknown, the edge of the unexplainable, the verge of no return. I just need to take one step at a time. I need to breathe, simplify, breathe, and probably simplify some more. I wish I could be happy with the ordinary. Life *is* ordinary. But my mind... my mind is most certainly *not* ordinary, and I just think I need to be doing something that reflects that. Sometimes I see happy mommies and want to be one. But 22 is still young, even though it doesn't seem to be what with all the teenage pregnancies. And I still have a LOT to work through before I'm ready. I wonder, how many mothers right now, were ready.
And I wonder why I feel so old, so downtrodden, so... tired.
I hope it's just the smog.
But I wish smog didn't exist.
End.
PS - Seriously, people who stopped calling me because I never called back, please give me one more shot? My old phone broke, didn't save the numbers to the sim card, so even if you tried to call and I wanted to answer, I wouldn't have known it was you (I never answer unknown calls because the hospital badgers me for bills). One more shot? Leave a message. I won't just try to call you back, I will.

Fri, 06 Jun 2008 16:37:12 GMT

Dang it sucks that the first time I breathe some fresh, comfortable, uncluttered air in my apartment is shortly before I'll be gone. We're moving to a place equally insufficient for us, just in different ways. This time it's stuff like the ceiling in the bathroom being the exact height of Corey, without shoes. Eeesh. And there's no shower, just a bath, and the ceiling of the soon-to-be studio is, in places, even lower than the bathroom. But it's bigger! And cooler, and more reclusive, and cheap. At least the oven will work. I just wish there wasn't such an immediate prospect of someone living above us. We're just the basement of a house, so it's only one neighbor... but now we might actually have to get to know him. Gob forbid we socialize.
Ahh lately we've been watching shows like Arrested Development, X-Files, and The Pretender... the first and last of which got canceled waaay before they ever deserved it, and were good enough for cable. I really wanna be involved with the creation of extra good stuff like that. Then again, I want to be involved with everything, which remains the reason for my backseat to life approach. If I can't do it all, I'll do nothing! No, that's stupid. I gotta figure something out, fa sho. I still want to write a book someday, but I still can't get outside of my own head. I can't get past how i feel, and it's very annoying. The fact that I usually feel worse than I let on, and that anxiety still rules my every interaction, I may need to get more medication than the good green ganj and my own sensibilities. I just don't wanna be one of those people who make a bunch of decisions they weren't quite sure about, then wonders how their life got so far out of their hands.
But right now I don't have much of a life at all... but I enjoy it... but it bores me... but most of the time I don't wanna do much else... but then I get annoyed at my inactivity... but then I love to relax and be quiet and pet my kitties... but then I need a balance. I have a way of wanting to keep things that are really important to me in the forefront of my mind, I almost feel like I'm keeping an eye on the world, and fate, and by making sure I always appreciate, for say, Corey, I'm decreasing my chances of bad things happening. And for some reason, that gets in the way of me wanting to pursue other creative tasks... like it'll take away from that importance... but really it might strengthen it... and get me off his back what with always criticizing and expressing how unfulfilled I am. It's semi-unfortunate we're both as crazy as we are. I suppose I wouldn't change it though. It makes it extraordinarily difficult, but in the end, after the huge fight, we're pretty damn close.
Eh, I'm mostly procrastinating moving more crap. *Sigh*

Wed, 23 Apr 2008 21:09:07 GMT

Blah. I still don't like being at my parent's house. They have a really nice place in Milford now, so at least I don't have to reacquaint myself with my old room and my childhood and all the bad feelings it held. I don't know how walls retain that shit, but they do. Unfortunately, the parents themselves have much the same effects they did before. But I get over it faster now. They can belittle me, make me feel like I'm not thinking, turn my excitement into disappointment, but they can't...uh, take my soul, or something. Whatever. They annoy me.

In better news I'm going to another martial arts tournament. Our school doesn't go to many to begin with and I don't go to all of them, so this is rare. I like to compete in forms and breaking, but for some reason I'm intimidated by sparring. Part of it is fighting people I don't know. Seems counter-intuitive to me, like I'd rather break the nose of my own friend than a complete stranger. Maybe I know somewhere that the friend will forgive and not care, but the stranger will try to get back at me. In Kung Fu I just hated to hit people really hard. Perhaps it's just a timid disposition, or not wanting to get seriously injured/seriously injure others. I know in our gym none of that has much of a chance of happening, but at a tournament...eh, I dunno. I just don't like it. I'll probably do it anyway.

Aaaand, as of tomorrow we will have TWO kitties. I'm really excited. A cat is a bazillion times better than this bird any second of any day. I like this bird ok, and birds in general are awesome. But cats...well they just melt my heart. I think the cat I already have, since he's only just over a year old, will be fairly adaptable to the addition. He's been great in every other instance people have said he'll freak out, like when we moved, or took him to house-sit somewhere else that had a cat. My cat is just great great great. Hopefully the new little one will fit right in. Mmm cats. I'm probably gonna be one of those people rattling off the list of animals they've picked up from random events throughout the years. So far, abandoned kittens are my forté. *squeals with joy*

Wedding's in October. I've just now gotten semi-excited about planning it. I've been excited about marrying him all along; I just had very little inclination to do any of that stupid planning crap. So it'll be as simple as I can possibly make it. A park, a gazebo/tent, some people, a marry-er, attire...oh my god, I guess I have to have things for people to sit on...milk crates, a megaphone to say our I-Do's into, you know, simple stuff. It'll be fun, you're all invited. Yes! Invitations taken care of.

So that's about it. Pluggin' along. Take care everybody.

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 19:57:59 GMT

It's been raining nearly non-stop for the past two days. It reminds me so much of upstate New York. I continue to ponder the impact moving there for just three months had on me. There's mad shit I regret, and there's some things I really cherish. Just the feeling of being at peace with the world, needing nothing more than a good breath of air and some birds and trees... Man I have really forgotten how to organize my thoughts on paper. I am in a period of scattered mindedness. Every time I go to think about the things and the people in my life, I just adopt this attitude of mild apathy, more of a live and let live kind of thing. I do really want to start planning my wedding properly. And I want to raise children with Corey. We may have decided on our last name, a combination of the two of ours. He was willing to just take my name, which is awesome. I felt kinda bad though, and thought hey, if I'm the last of the Muirs, I could create a whole new generation of Murlass's. Murlass, Murlass... It doesn't look bad. It speaks a little oddly. I could get used to it. It's really only the logical combination of Muir and Glass. And of course, I believe I've tried all of them.
I've come to learn there's nothing silly or cheesy about dedicating your life to someone. I've been so annoyed, so, like, freakin' enraged, that I'd think there's no way we could stay together, that our natures were just too different. But I am one crazy bitch, and he's one nice guy who does normal guy things and is also quite socially awkward. In most every way he's better than any guy, for me. Sometimes we inadvertently press each other's buttons and we're getting a lot better at not fanning the flames. I don't really know where I was going with any of this, or why I decided to capitalize when I never do, or why I've been so emotionally distant, but, well...the end.

my god i have so much more to say i just can't. and it's not because of livejournal it's not because of who will read it it's not because of anything except for me. i want polar opposites, i am polar opposites.
if i could fast forward time to what i see myself doing, agriculture in a different country, environmentalism and zoology in places of every kind, life would rule. but you can't do that. at least i didn't waste my time with school. cause everybody who went is so much better off than me, right. everything i want to learn can be done on my very own, and a degree is useless for a shitload of reasons. useful for a shitload, yes, but also quite useless for a whole different crowd of people. like those who could never function in the full-time run-of-the-mill pull-on-the-same-clothes-every-day kinda crap. maybe i could be a preschool teacher. juuuust maybe. i didn't have the opportunities of some of my contemporaries, to be given the options of having cars and going to college and actually helping them achieve such goals. it's taking much more time for me to get it together and overcome my faults and really get in gear. some have judged and talked down to me and written me off before even knowing what i'm thinking, how i'm not just lazy and irresponsible but just trying my darndest to keep breathing. why life takes such a huge toll on me i do not know. i just hope i don't become one of them, criticizing and cruel by their lack of compassion and empathy. so i can't just let things go without discussion. why is it better to gloss it all over and act like shit never happened? if the magnitude of the world's problems sat on each person's shoulders like their individual crises, would it be as easy to fix as saying sorry to a friend?

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 18:30:40 GMT

i feel ever so panicked and not ever so sure why. corey and i just moved from the west side of town to the north side, and while it's awesome to leave home five minutes before ten and arrive at work at ten on the nose, it sucks to move. i miss the comfort of our old place. there are so many pros and cons to everything i can't begin to write it out, but north side does inevitably win. when we get our stove and microwave hooked up, we'll really be in business... instead of taking our business to the taco bell/kfc across the street. ew. skyline is better, but i'm awfully sick of fast food after just one week. how do people do it? they're nastier than me. just kidding.

i keep wanting to spill and write about everything. absolutely everything. then i realize that i haven't talked to most the people on my friends list in like, a year, the friends i do talk to have mostly dissolved into acquaintances, and the rare true friend, i'd rather talk to on the phone... which is insane, because i used to hate telephones. to everyone i've been neglecting, i'm hoping to resolve to think about calling you. :)

no seriously, i feel like a shithead.

Sat, 20 Oct 2007 17:40:15 GMT

This is America, son.
Place where you have never been born
because I was never ready to face
that dark-brown-daddy-challenge,
the pull and push of you across
tightroped chasm between
what we've lost
and where we've found ourselves.

This is America.
And last night I had a dream
where a black man shot another
black man in the head and laughed.
It was like a football game to him,
spiking the ball with a bullet
in the concrete end zone,
the crowd's roar
and stomp and heave
roiling in his ears.

This is America, son.
And I am not dreaming.
This is where violence is as casual
as gang signs hurled down 63rd and Western
The land where disappearing brown women's bodies
are just another headline on page 3
of the Metro section, next to the ads
for deodorant and toothpaste.

This is the place waiting
to grow up so you can grow up.
You are the soft prisoner in my flesh,
promise in my loins, secret in my DNA
I keep locked under latex every time
I make love to a woman
that wants me
to love her
into loving you.

I could've been daddy three or four times now;
have wiped the butts and kissed the cheeks
of other men's children,
loved them squalling into my life-
enough to know that they were my children, too.

And yesterday,
I sat in a south side kindergarten class
where the ABC blocks and Legos mix colors
like a cauldron of rainbows.
I watched while the children
wrestled on the rug.

I wondered
if you would have Keyshawn's bowlegged walk,
or Diondre's smile that spreads his gap-toothed
mouth wide as his favorite sugar cookie.
I wanna know if you'll have Sedan's wild-eyed
brilliance when he knows the right answer to 3 + 2.
I wanted to know if we would ever be right
for each other, if I would ever pass the test
of your childish faith.

This is me, son. The country called father.
Waiting for the time to be right enough,
knowing there will never be enough right time,
preparing a place in the crook of my arm
for your weight, your solid thump of heartbeat.

This is me, son.
Wondering if I'll ever be strong enough
to hold your hand.

Tyehimba Jess (Chicago)

Fri, 19 Oct 2007 18:18:33 GMT

raah i'm kinda tired of oddball thoughts. i imagine the car next to me exploding and turning everything in a 30 foot radius to smithereens. or that the woman who rang the bell to come up to the fifth floor, then turned her back on the camera so we couldn't see who she is, is really a twisted psycho killer who rang all the other bells too, hoping someone would randomly let her in out of innocent confusion. i don't know if i watch too many horror movies or i just allow my brain to get carried away with hypothetical scenarios. prolly both. it happens so often i start to think i have the fantastical brain incident fantasy-personality-disorder. real thing, learned about it senior year. more than half my day is spent idling about random people i see, events that could or could not take place. in a way, i think it's great because i get so many ideas about what to do, how to interact, how to see things. in another way i tire of imagining the bad stuff. all of it is interesting. i guess you give a little and take a little in every circumstance. i also think it makes me deeper as a person. i smell things that aren't there, feel unwarranted emotions, just because my head is off in a place that's not reality. i see reality too, but i often wonder if this is my first step toward true insanity, and if i should curb this behavior or not. for now i balance it best i can. still pushing toward school. just at my own pace, dammit.

Mon, 08 Oct 2007 18:33:59 GMT

this past saturday we had a promotion at my martial arts gym. while i wasn't a promoter myself, it's nice to show up and encourage others, particularly 'cause they were all lower color belts, and be of service when someone needs a self-defense or sparring partner. the masters had me partner up with a sixteen year old girl. she's not terribly small, not much smaller than me at all, nor is she bad at it. i guess she was just nervous and excited. self-defenses were great. we got up to spar.
as soon as the match started, she starts wailing her fists around and movin' all over the place. i'm a red belt, not yet attune to the footwork the black belts invented themselves, so i couldn't quite find a way to step around her. the master instructor yelled "you don't have to be a punching bag kim!" "yes, sir!" five seconds later i had kicked her in the head so hard the slap of my foot echoed around the room. eep! i hardly enjoy hitting people, and that there obviously is gonna give her a doozie of a black eye. they checked her out at the front table, had a bit of a talk with her, and she was back in the ring.
we start again, this time she's not moving at all. so i step one way, step the other, and she's off again in an avalanche of punching. she keeps her feet spread very wide so i never thought to step around lest she trip me. so i stuck my fist out there too, and it met her face again. wtf?! is her head a beacon? how am i doing this? it wasn't too bad so we keep going. hardly ten seconds later, after putting up with her hands flying everywhere but going nowhere special, another kick. this time i watch as my leg rises up, time begins to slow down, i have a sense of foreboding so acute, i see her face scrunch up under my foot, her hair fly in the other direction, her eyes immediately start to water, her face bright red. 'oh jeeses..' i whisper under my breath. back to the center. she sways a bit, shakes it off, and the fight is called off.
i couldn't look a single soul in the eye after that. i didn't know if the masters thought i was being viscous, if her dad was plotting my death, if everyone thought i had a chip on my shoulder i was tryin' to get rid of, if she, herself, now hated me or was scared of me... i guess i just wanted to shout my remorse to the world, when in reality anyone with half a brain could see she set the mood of the fight but wasn't equipped to defend what she was asking for. i didn't even think i was good enough to deliver, it just fucking happened. by the time they almost started the fight the last time, i felt i had shrunk to the size of a peanut. seemed like she was towering over me, and i was begging myself to not do it again.
i know it wasn't my fault, and no one else said a word to me. so why am i still fretting? why all the concern? i think it's just, and i only figured this out this morning, that i have never in my life physically hurt someone that badly. causing bodily harm to another person without meaning to, when they're younger and less likely to know things, when for all my life i've flinched at the slightest movement in my direction, just makes me feel horrible. what i mean is...when i was her age in kung fu, i fought so timidly, held so much back and was afraid of everything, that letting myself open and hurt someone who may feel...anything at all like i did, makes me feel horrible. i know it wasn't my fault, i know it wasn't anyone's fault, and that everyone except perhaps her has forgotten all about it. i just have to push the image of her face under my foot out of my mind and stop letting if affect my every emotion. and know that accidents happen, however unlikely it is that three of them happened in the same 30 seconds. *bigsigh* glad to get that off my chest.

Fri, 28 Sep 2007 17:34:04 GMT

there's too much to think about! a lot of times i think i'm an exception to any rule. people have tried to dissuade and persuade and sway any which way, and i never listen. now, i wanted to be a lawyer foooor...years. it was like the third thing i ever wanted to be, right after mountain climber and dentist. when i debated the necessity of a shower at twelve years old, and won, i thought "hmm, maybe i could argue for a living." every time something happens to someone i know, and they could take legal action of some sort, i think "can i be your lawyer?!?!" i always took that stuff with a grain of salt. it's too hard or too expensive or too much responsibility... and i still think those things a little bit. i also know it's a little too close to the real government for me not to be in there. i could do so many good things, more than being an environmental science major that's for sure. i mean, heck, i could be a lawyer for the environment. how many times you think the epa or fda needs some bullshit drawn up for them and they ask some delinquent who only cares about his salary to do it, and it ends up not helping anybody or hurting someone? not only could i take the place of one dishonest person, i could stand in the way of more.
there are way more things standing in my way than there are helping me along. that is a damn fact. i haven't thought much about that though. it's all in the baby steps. i would still loooove to travel. i would love to have a family someday too. being a lawyer would make those two things difficult. but being in school, using the brain i know i have but haven't honed in a few years, even just starting some general education classes to show myself i can still do it...yes. i've been feeling terribly nostalgic. being on a metro bus sometimes i start to see my high school peers around me instead of city slickers. walking down hallways sometimes i start to feel claustrophobic and as if i ought to have a handful of books clutched to my chest. i miss academia, i miss thinking. reading books is great, but it's not enough anymore. i mean damn. daaaaamn. i thought smoking all the time and staying away from people was the way i had to go, and now i'm considering one of the most aggressive job fields there is. there's got to be a brilliant college essay somewhere in these brain wrinkles. i've got to start thinking how i used to think to be able to write it. unfortunately that's bringing up a lot of old ghosts...brown eyes i used to envisage, distinct smells i'd savor...eh. the past. it's not a terrible problem. in fact, it's about the best problem i ever had.
i get to thinkin it's the season that's pumped warmth into my veins again. i do love the autumn, but i'm not willing to wait until next spring to see if i still feel the same. it's such a god damned beautiful day. cincinnati, it just, it really ain't so bad.
note to self: never forget how at the pastel place, they'd play the same french radio station for hours on end. i never get tired of it, and am gaining an appreciation for goofy foreign music. i don't know why or how it sounds goofy to me, but it does. i think about how i vaguely know a lot of things about which i could actually know a whole helluva lot. i wonder if others get indications of their intelligence and never follow through, or if it's just not there to begin with. and others still need no indications, they just know shit, or have the opportunity to know shit and they take it for granted. so i have to work for it. so what. i always have, and that's why i'm not buying "the law school bible - how anyone can become a lawyer... without ever setting foot in a law school". with all my years of painting at the smallest angles and reading the finest print, i could never let myself jump over to those kindergarten sized lines. thought about it though. yup, sure did.

Fri, 07 Sep 2007 16:57:30 GMT

i never know how to start. over the last couple months i've certainly drifted away from everything. the only person i talk to is corey, and work talk doesn't count. after much consideration, i decided i was ok with that. in fact, i'm happy not sharing my accounts with people. since everything has been coming from outward in, and not many words escape my mouth, whenever i do speak it's in bursts of anger or cynicism that i mean to control and then, just, don't. maybe there's a stage in a relationship where you argue almost every day. in fact a lot of people's relationships never get out of that i think. we have seemingly monumental fights, afterwards i think we'll never have to discuss that again, then a week later the exact same issues. i know these things aren't supposed to be perfect, i wasn't expecting that. i just didn't think we were such thoroughly different people.
hm, not thoroughly. things just affect me more, and i am perhaps too sensitive and then too calloused. i deal with people differently even though we're both recluses. i still observe and try to learn and understand and he doesn't see much value in that. but watching others helps you learn how to interact, how to be amicable to the extent of your own comfort zone without making others uncomfortable or upset. i think i should heed my own advice at iga. i guess maybe a year is long enough to start getting to know people a little. it's not my fault everybody has a sour expression on their faces. i'll just have to see past that, or not see it at all.
the girl next to me at the library computers keeps sighing and making aggitated movements toward my hands and their incessant typing. i didn't know the keyboards were here for show.
soon i will be able to go to martial arts more often, with a fixed vehicle, let out aggression, and forgive those who are making no effort to stick around. like my dear brother who is moving to florida because his fiance wants to, with a one year old baby. my neice damnit, and he's not sympathizing with anybody else in the family. everybody's pissed and they think we're the ones that are wrong. i do suppose i see the need to get away. i did it too, just not with a baby and all my family wishing for me not to go. *shrug* yea no difference at all. yes i'm happy for him finding a place to be. there's also no support system for them down there with that baby. no health insurance no jobs set up no family to babysit for them no ME. i'm torn. and that's probably the way it'll stay until they make it down there or come home. family's a bitch sometimes.
that's about all i had. i miss friends. oh and the fights are still totally worth it with him. rather be fighting with him than not be with him at all. aaaand i'm reading a stephen king book and rediscovering how much i love horror movies.

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 19:51:06 GMT

it's nice saying and doing exactly what i want and not feeling pressure to say or do anything more. it's nice to accept that i enjoy watching but not interacting, and want to go home with one person only at the end of the night. it's nice being content being quiet, not letting others force me into conversation. at work people try to strike up conversations for the two minutes we're seeing each other. most of the time, when i respond and try to have a *real* conversation instead of them trying to fill the time with mundane excuses for sentences, they nod and utter and small "mm" and politely look away.
honestly, that makes my blood boil. that's exactly what i was trying to do in the first place, quietly enjoy our time in each other's faces until they move along. if you want to talk, talk. if you don't, stfu. i get the feeling many out there didn't figure out what kind of person they are, and act differently in different situations. i'm only vaguely beginning to understand how vacant some thought processes are, how you could possibly make it that far without thinking. don't know why it matters. i'm also just letting anything and everything pop into my head. and getting comfortable enough to say a lot of it. to corey that is. we've been together for over a year now. heh, that's nice too.