2012 in Review & 2013 Projections

It's tough to organize ones thoughts when one has imbibed some celebratory alcohol.

~~~

And that is why I had to continue this the next day! LOL.

Review-

It's been a surprising year (technically two years but that's an issue I don't want to get into right now.) Early in the year I went back to school, not knowing what I was going for or where it would lead, I just needed to feel like I was moving forward. I met some truly incredible people who've stuck around in my life and have brightened so many corners. I am eternally grateful for new friends and old friends that stuck.

I also ended a 10 year friendship with R, someone I thought I was incredibly close with and who understood me and whom I understood. I tried to end it as friendly as possible, with newly found boundaries I insisted on consisting of kindness,consideration, and reciprocation. What I got in return was vilification and cruelty. Had that always been there and I just didn't see it? Or had that developed during our separation due to outside influences? I'll never know and that's ok, because I just don't need that kind of energy in my life. I'm thankful to have had him part of my life, if only as an example of what not to do and who not to trust, and the changes in myself that came about from losing that close friendship are positive ones, so I'll just concentrate on gratitude.

I finally got a job, after 2 years of looking, thanks to a little nepotism on the part of my cousin. And I'll take it. Survival means having to swallow that bitter pill called Pride sometimes. It pays for crap and the hours suck since it's only part time, but the people are real gems, and that in itself is something to be grateful for as working for/with horrible people can be a poop storm not worth swimming in.

And my divorce with D creeps ever so slowly forward as well. Talk about really understanding the term "bittersweet". I'm excited about my new life, scared to death of the loss of my old one (as well as just survival issues), nervous about taking care of myself, and sad...lots of sad. I truly want him to be happy, and me not miserable, and I hope we can work out a way both of those can be a truth at the same time.

And to bridge this post, I have to mention L. Meeting him has been the most beautiful part of my year. He inspires me every day to be a better person. And I hope that continues through 2013 and beyond.

Which brings me to projections-

Health: Continued diet tweaks and increased exercise regimes. Especially since I am planning to run a half marathon in May. Which, is nuts, since I am incredibly unfit and have never even run a 5 or 10k. I'm insane. Oh well, trying is more important than succeeding.

Wealth: Not sure wtf to do about that honestly. I *could* look for another job that is full time, or a part time that works with my current part time, but I don't know if either would accomidate full time school as well. I'm not a kid with endless energy anymore so I don't think I can do too much more than I am. So maybe work on that Etsy shop and my art?! Which leads me to...

Art: Yes. A lot of projects under my wings that I need to get a move on. I say that every year but it's finally gotten to the point where I need to shit or get off the pot. Seriously. And I know it. I need work to sell, and I need work for a portfolio.

School: Thankfully, I finally know what I want to be when I grow up! :P That is a load off my mind.

Family/Friends: I'd like to be closer to my brother, my cousins, my adopted mom, and my aunt. I'd like to spend more time with my friends. I need to work out how to combine these things with the other things I need to do.

Those are my main areas of worry for 2013. Anything else is just frosting on my cake. Or ka'ak as my brother would say.

A New Day :)

I'd hidden this blog away, ashamed of many things, especially who I was...which, in the end, is a disservice to myself, because everything that happened, good or bad, has made me who I am today. And I really LIKE who I am today.

I thought about starting over, wiping the slate clean so to speak. But why? I have a perfectly usable blog here! I spent the last hour going back to the beginning. I've drafted a few things that just didn't need to be in the blogosphere. But reading back on my posts I really did learn a few things about myself. I was depressed and depressing. I was harder on myself than I ever need to be. I'm both smarter and nerdier than I give myself credit for. And oh my, how I've changed. It's good to see and feel the difference.

So, yes, let's do this! It will be a new start...a real one this time, because I am a new person :)

Sex Toy

Sex Toy

You don't want me.
You never did.
The ability to "get it up" for me
Is not the need to be joined,
With my heart beating against yours,
Tempo'd to each other.
How long were your love-words empty,
Uttered without your brain engaged
Or your soul intact?
How many times
Was I the friendly depository
Of your needful emissions?
Maybe my love wasn't what you thought
It should be,
But it was still yours, as broken as it was...
Gift-wrapped in the comics section,
Ripped and repaired in duct tape.
You did me a disservice-
Taking without giving,
Using me with well-intentioned excuses.
You did yourself a worse wrong,
Wasting your life and your time
On someone you valued so little.
You should have bought a blow-up doll -
You'd have been happier.

Ownership

Excerpt from my physical journal:

I have identified as "abused". Emotionally (verbal and neglect), sexually, physically. Being a victim has been an embraced identity. A way to collect compassion. Even a way to excuse my short-comings..."Oh, she was abused, so it's ok that she doesn't try, is lazy, failed..." A way to set myself up for low expectations.

If I'm a victim, then I don't have to try because I have a million inner struggles to overcome. If I'm a victim, then failing, or being a failure, is ok. If I'm a victim, then my failures and negativeness aren't even mine, they were forced on me by someone else. My meanness, pettiness, manipulating, jealous, lying, greedy, materialistic, hateful, clingy, suffocating, aloof, cold, angry, shallow feelings aren't mine.

But they are.

Today I claim them. I'm dragging them from the "Lost & Found". These belong to me. I'm not trying to put myself down. This isn't a pity party. If they really weren't mine, but forced on me, then I could pity myself. But they are mine. They are me. I am mean and petty and manipulating and jealous and lying and greedy and materialistic and hateful and clingy and suffocating and aloof and cold and angry and shallow. By claiming these emotions I am accepting them. By accepting them I am taking control.

Just because I am these, that is not all that I am. By owning these, I am also every opposite, because each one is just the other side of another emotion; a two-sided coin.

If I am mean then I am also sweet. And I am. If I am petty, then I am also far-seeing, looking at the big picture. And I am. If I am manipulating, then I am also able to let go. And I am. If I am jealous, then I am also unconditionally loving. And I am. If I am a liar, then I am also a light for the truth. And I am. If I am greedy, then I am also generous. And I am. If I am materialistic, then I am also esoteric and spiritual. And I am. If I am hateful, then I am also full of love. And I am. If I am clingy, then I can also grant myself and others the capacity to be themselves. And I do. If I am suffocating, then I am also the giver of breath, helping to ease the pains of life. And I am. If I am aloof, then I am also warmly welcoming. And I am. If I am cold, then I am also passionate. And I am. If I am angry, then I am also forgiving. And I am. If I am shallow, then I also have endless depths to explore. And I do. And I am both sides of the coin.

Every emotion, bad or good, is mine to control, when I can. And when I can't, the memory that on the other side of the coin is it's best opposite, should hold me in it's embrace til I can feel that gentle, joyful face again.

The biggest problem with education...

...is that education itself leads to stagnant thought. We are taught, poorly for the most part, that this is the way things are, this is how stuff works,...these are the facts right here. I wonder how much similarity there is to people who were taught that the world is flat, the sun revolves around the earth, diseases are caused by sin against god; will people look back on us in 100 years and exclaim "I can't believe they thought E=mc2!"

We are told to think outside the box (that is, when we're not being told to follow the herd), but even that commercialized cliche could be wrong. What if we need to be thinking outside the hexagon? Or inside the circle? Does anyone who "thinks outside the box" think that by being told to think outside the box that they're still in the box in a box?

Which reminds me of a Tao quote I just read about, by Zhuangzi:

I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?

Tired Eyes

Another early morning. 4:28 am at this glance. The darkness outside still reflects the pink of my shirt at me. I can feel the cold biting at my toes. And bad pop fills the room from my VH1.

My eyes can barely stay open but I needed to be here. To renew my new vow to be more active on my blogs. Especially this one...the one I need to help me figure out my new road to travel.

Hmm, commercial time. What is it about the denizens of the late evening that says "You guys would adopt these orphans, donate to cure cancer, save all the puppies and kittens from abuse, and shop at Old Navy."

So much to do tomorrow. I have much to prove. To myself.

6 Wants.

* I want my own house.

*I want my own driver's license and a car of my own.

*I want kids before I get too old.

*I want to be able to go to the grocery store and buy food without worrying about a budget.

*I want to be able to sell my art.

*I want to be a useful human being.

That's it. Right now that's all I want out of life.

Illusions.

There must be something wrong with me. I can count on one hand the number of people who seem to care about me, the people who I can trust and turn to. My foundation was my family, but now I stand on ash. I thought I had more friends than that, trusted on it, leaned on it, but it showed itself as a false wall- paper thin and able to withstand...nothing.

Is it others or is it me? I'm easily turned against myself, so I assume it is something lacking in my character. I give too much, expect too much, receive too little.

I'll do what I can to find out what it is in me that drives others away.

In the meantime, I give up on everyone else. I'll wipe the slate clean, write down 5 names. 5 bricks for my wall. I need a big wall, so I'll need more bricks, but I'm going to triple check from now on just exactly what they are made from.

It's Time to Start

Lazing each day away doing what everyone else thinks they want to do- sleeping when I want, waking when I want, gaming all day, not having to work. Isn't this what a lot of people dream about ? But I feel myself getting more depressed each day.

Is this the american hubris? Being depressed for nothing when I have so much to be thankful for? But it's not that I'm not thankful. I don't think one has to do with another. I think about the women in africa who have to get their clits circumcised or the women living in the middle east who have no rights at all...and worse, don't even know they should want those rights (as judged by my american standards), and I am thankful I am living here with..well, relative freedom.

I'm depressed because I know if I were to die tomorrow, I know I would have left nothing to be remembered by. Nothing worthy at all, other than several decades worth of landfill.

And I know there is something wrong in me that seems to drive people away. Shouldn't I have more friends by now? By whose standards I don't know but by estimation of my age group. I should have a house and be driving a car and have some kind of 9 to 5 and 2.5 kids by now. Should...the most hopeless word in the english language.

If I'm not going to be living the life I choose (housewife and artist) then I need to start living the life that will be most useful to my current situation. But getting some job waiting tables or working in retail...I know if I do it now, it'll be the kind of thing I'll be stuck doing for the rest of my life. And that's depressing enough to have me screaming away and living like a bum in the street.

So it's time to start...start at least trying to do what I want to do while I have the opportunity. Tomorrow when I wake up...I am maid and artist for 8 hrs. Just like a real job. Because in the end, that's exactly what I want to be.

Happy Nude Year, 2008

...I say nude because that's how I feel now-a-days. Nude. Naked. Vulnerable to the fads and foibles and fears and frustrations of the universe.

On one hand I hate it. No one likes to be without protections. What are most people's protections? Well, I guess it varies by culture but I think a few universals apply...like family. So what about my family? My father hasn't spoken to me in years. Neither have most of the people on that side of my family. My mother and step-father have also relegated me to persona non grata, which generally extends to that side of the family not talking to me as well...well, the ones who'd bothered to talk to me in the first place. Which, in turn, has placed stress on the relationships that do remain- my brother (hearing how much they treasure him hurts me, even though neither of us wants that and I don't begrudge him the attention) and my cousins, who for some reason unknown to me, barely speak to me now anyway, even though we used to be as close as sisters, but at least this isn't a hostile type of silence.

Another protection I would say for people is their facade...the face they show the world. So much effort to fit in to the current trend, or not fit in in an orchestrated effort to be "outside the norm". I think I've sincerely gotten to the place where I don't care what society thinks of my looks. And I don't need to fake a face to the world that shows what/who I am.

But I almost revel in my new vulnerability because I hope to channel that into my art. To take the things that have no place to hide...the hurt, the anger, the joys and griefs and pleasures and fun and jealousy and everything that makes me human...and somehow convey that into a two dimensional form that someone can look at...and just relate to. My arts going to be about fantasy and social commentary and the times I live in and, most important to me, about honesty.

That's why, for the first time in years, for the first time since I've complained about my ass-sitting life and everything I'm not doing...I think I've finally come to the place where I am ready to start doing. 2008 is gonna be the start of my life, for bad or good. I'm ready.

Bald really IS Beautiful.

I'm thinking of shaving my head again (or at least a buzzcut). It's almost always a constant thought. There are several reasons-

*I don't like to style my hair. I'm not proficient in styling so I always feel like I'm fumbling poorly to copy what the hair stylist always does. I don't like how long it takes. I'm already slow at getting rdy to go out. Hair styling usually adds another half hour to 45 mins for my inefficient ass.

*My hair is not doing well. At the rate I'm going, I'm going to look like Gallagher in a few years. I don't want to go on any more meds than I am on. Especially that the side effects of the meds I've looked up for hair growth are both nausea and vomiting (things I already have to deal with with the current meds...ok AND increased breast size? uhm, no thanks.)

*I just like the look. I thought Natalie Portman looked stunning in "V for Vendetta" and even Demi Moore looked pretty when she was doing that Marine flick.

*The Hubby says I'll look like a man. Society sucks and I don't care to be dictated to about what makes me feminine/masculine (by society, not the Hubby, who is, after all, a product of society =P )

I found this blog googling about women and hair and this man's wife just got her hair in a "flat top" and I like what he had to say...here's an excerpt from his blog:

"So I get home that evening, walk in the door, and see someone sitting at the kitchen table. The dress looks familiar, but the head had what, in my Army days we called a "High and tight." I figured Janet had someone over so I called out, "Hi, I'm Greg, Janet's husband, and you are..?'

And Janet turns around and smiles at me.

I was speechless. The thing that got to me was that she looks great that way. I've never been a fan of short hair on women, I confess I put women with extremely short hair into the stereotype as being lesbians.

But my wife has made me rethink, and see the stupidity of categorizing people that way, and helped me address that bias. We have several same sex couples in our circle of friends, of each gender. It's not that I'm homophobic, but I was unfairly stereotyping people. I think everyone does it, whether we realize it or not.

Janet tried to give me reasons for the abrupt transformation, but she doesn't have to. I love her, and the woman she is, and the mother she is about to become. It's not what's on her head that matters, but what's in it, and I feel extremely lucky that the thinking going on in there centers so much on our family. So some people stare at her "Look". So what? it's just hair."

The best laid plans of mice...

...and women often go astray.

Like planning to write here. Me...the big blogger. Ha! What's funny is this public space is more private than my own home. And yet...

Sometimes it's hard to completely let go and just..say whatever comes to mind. And it's amazing how disorganized my mind is sometimes, especially when I've always considered myself an organized thinker when it comes to my writing. Seriously, I never had to make a rough draft in school. And more often than not, when I did bother to make a rough draft, I just copied it almost word for word on to my final.

Part of the issue is just not being alone a lot of the time I am at the computer. At least a notebook I can hide from prying eyes, but not a 20" flat screen. But I guess that begs the question again of why I need to hide something I just post out in the world for anyone to read it...because no one does! So I don't have to worry about it! Lol.

Soooo anyway, thats it for now. It's way too early in the morning, which means I am up way past my bedtime...as usual.

Oh, and I like this quote (which I may write more on in the future because it explains a lot of what I have been going through lately):

"Fantasies are more than substitutes for unpleasant reality they are also dress rehearsals, plans. All acts performed in the world begin in the imagination."--Barbara G. Harrison

I don't have Cancer.

I went to the doctor a few weeks ago to start trying to take care of some of my PCOS issues. Unfortunatly, the lining of my uterus was too thick and the doc said that that meant it was a pre-cancerous condition and I needed a biopsy to make sure that I didn't have cancer there.

The biopsy was the second most painful experience of my life, only beat out by the time I ripped out some tendons in my ankle and had to crawl up 2 flights of stairs. Basically, what she did caused labor pains...and she had to do it twice as she didn't get a big enough sample the first time. I swear I don't understand how the human race populates itself sometimes. Ow. Daryl said he heard me screaming in pain, through the walls, all the way in the waiting room.

So, I had to wait a week for the results. That was an intense week for self reflection. I'm 32...was my life already close to over? What have I done with my life to be remembered? Who would miss me if I was gone? What if I was gonna live but they had to take out my uterus? What does that mean to me as a woman? What about a family? I've always thought I wanted to adopt but having the choice taken away from you all together changes your outlook. And if everything turns out ok, what do I need to change in my life so if I ever do see the end of it coming again, I would be less dissatisfied with what I've done with it than I am now. I say less dissatisfied because I think someone completely satisfied with the life they've lived is a rare occurance. Yes...a lot of thinking.

When I got the phone call that I was ok, I cried. With relief.

So here I am. I'd like to think the experience changed me a little bit for the better. I see my life in a new light, both the past and the future. We'll see what I can make of it in the next few months...I am an artist afterall, so it should be a good composition at least.

Random Musings

It's been a very introspective type of day.

I don't know what set me off today but I spent maybe a good hour and a half searching the internet for some sign of an ex and whether or not he married his ex-then-not-ex-girlfriend he dumped me for. It's self mutilation, milling over the possibilities lost and doors never shut, and yet I do this to myself every once in awhile anyway. There was so much hurt involved and I don't know why I can't just let it go. Is it some kind of masochistic gene? Or perhaps, I'm just like a dog, chewing tenaciously on a bone, trying to get the very last bit of flavor out. Pain flavor. And I don't even like marrow.

I like to think that I am not so self centered as to actually believe I am the center of the universe, yet any sign that people that are outside of my existence are moving on with their lives, doing things and experiencing situations without me, makes me experience spasms of intense jealousy. Why can't I just be happy for people?? Envy is an insidious and evil entity.

I've lost, and am losing, friends because of my antisocial behaviors. I go through periods of not wanting to talk to anyone outside of my immediate vicinity. No phone calls. No emails. Nothing. I think people can't understand I don't mean anything mean about it but I just need to be alone with my thoughts. I wish I could explain it better.

I make things harder on myself than they need to be.

Bah Humbug.

I'm veto-ing christmas.

I'm not christian. Not that christmas is even on christ's supposed birthday anyway.

So what's the point? I suppose that whole "good will towards your fellow man", "family and friend appreciation", blah blah blah stuff is important. But look who's telling me this- merchants.

I love my friends and family. I don't need to have a mercenary society tell me I need to celebrate my loved ones existence in my life one day a year. Not to mention I don't think true friends want me going broke for half the year just for a nice necklace or interesting book.

Yes, broke I said. Year after year Zen and I end up putting christmas crap on our credit cards and more often than not, it doesn't get paid off until June or July. Then the cycle starts all over again.

As the year goes by I often spot something that someone would like and I get it and save it for christmas. Once again, I have to ask why. What makes me celebrate a holiday I don't even believe in?

So from now on...family and friends...you'll get your presents any time of the year, and for no reason other than I'm thinking about you and I love you. And I won't be going broke doing it either.

And if you want to get me something during christmas, that's fine. And if you don't, well, that's fine too!

Oh, Birthdays are still in. When I can remember them... :p

“Love is what we were born with. Fear is what we learned here.”

I almost had one of my panic attacks on the trolley.

I seem to have two types of panic attacks. There is one where I get very nauseous, short of breath, and get this claustrophobic feeling. Then there is the one that is triggered by violence, especially when men are involved. That one is just...pure panic. An uncontrollable urge to cry, flee and hide.

Well, I'm coming home tonight from school and the loud, high-as-a-kite kid across from me starts talking in an overly loud voice, exclaiming about how all guys in the Navy are gay. And that's just the start of his little bashing session.

Some guy behind me decided to take umbrage, either because he was himself gay...or in the Navy...or both..or maybe just took a dislike to that kid. Suddenly there is much loud yelling and jumping around and potential beatings about to happen right next to me.

And yes, I feel myself start to go into a panic. I tell ya...took some strong will power not to run off the trolley freaking out. I did cry though, albeit quietly.

I have many theories as to why violent men make me freak out...many having to do with my father and a few biased stories told by some relatives of my infant-hood. But I have no memories of such, and a strong love for my father (maybe the same kind of love a woman has for the husband who slaps her around?)...thus it remains theories until he decides to tell me otherwise. And since he's not speaking to me any longer...

Yay! Half-Nekkid Sunday ;)

Two roads diverged in a yellowed wood...

I get bored and surf myspace. Yeah it's a complete brain-drain but meh, it's something to do other than what I'm supposed to be doing (like homework).

I always start with my friends. I see if they've posted any new pics or made any comments on their blogs to my comments. Then start with their friends..and kind of network out from there.

The problem is, once in awhile I find someone really cool that I don't know. I like their style or what they say...and I want to send an email and say something but I always just feel so awkward. Like some creepy dork. I agonize about it for a little bit...should I say something? Shouldn't I? If I did how do I come across as sincere and not a total idiot? And 99.9% of the time I just don't say anything.

And I often wonder what I am losing out on by not saying anything.

Myspace is da debil!

Myspace is evil.

I'm intent on draging my self out of the entrenching mire that is the past...and myspace pulls me back in. I have found so many lost friends- all people I'd never meet up if there was a reunion because I'd be ashamed.

And the worst part is I'm ashamed that I'm ashamed.

Hope is a 20-sided die.

"The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof." -Barbara Kingsolver

I think I lost hope a long time ago. The kind of hope where you always think life will get better. Someday, at least one of the many dreams of youth will come true. I don't expect things to be handed to me...but it's like the possibilities, the windows to see the path to the goal, were all broken and boarded up before I even got there.

And yet, I still plug away at this craptageous game called "Life" so maybe there is still an optimist alive in me. Or maybe it's that I finally have a tiny teeny idea of who I might be, what I might want, and where I might need to go...like I've found the highway instead of just a path. Or maybe, in every day that passes, I sense my own mortality looming over me and feel the desire to pick something, anything, before it catches up and overwhelms me.

So maybe I'm not sure what I hope for..but I am finally living in it's shadow and ready to step on in.