Quote of the day :)

She did not believe that she could ever stop hating Nicky and Lee, until her pastor told her that when God was going to do something wonderful, it started with something hard, and when God was going to do something exquisite, He or She started with an impossibility.

Anne Lamott, Blue Shoe

Science Fiction.

When I was a kid, I loathed science fiction, didn't get it, thought it was dumb, etc. It just didn't interest me, and I couldn't understand how or why it interested other people. It scared me, to see aliens in movies (Signs scared the crap out of me; Star Wars was just a fad I had to be a part of). I also happen to love reality television, the delicious ridiculousness of it, the psychological assessments I get to do on the fly. The real vs. the unreal; this is my battle.

Flash forward a few years, and suddenly I'm super into The X Files. I think I even watched Zombieland recently with my teenage pals. I'm becoming more open to the unreal, to the imaginative part of life, and I think it's a good thing. I need more fantasy in my life to balance out the harsh realities I see every day. I need things to take my mind completely away from the day-to-day. I'm even reading Michael Crichton. Good stuff.

I'm avoiding life at the moment, making excuses, ignoring phone calls, hoping that nothing is waiting for me around the corner, hoping no one else will die or get some horrible disease. I just don't know if I can do this whole "getting older" thing. Because the older I get, the more people I love, and then people die. They get cancer. They get old. They get suicidal. It happens.

But I'm tired of it happening, and I'm just done for right now. So yeah, I'm not my most exuberant self, but I'm alive, and I don't have a brain tumor or epilepsy, so I'm trying to find some goodness in that. But otherwise, I'm wishing that I hadn't chosen to let myself love people so long ago, because it hurts to lose them.

So I go thrifting every day. And make apple muffins for breakfast, and hope that life will smooth itself out, because it usually does.

Peace out :)

'angsty' is a fun word :)

These surprisingly sold in a few days from my Etsy shop, which rarely happens.

The last few days have been amazing. Between reading, angsty puzzle-doing, and some painting, I've reached a really good place. I've figured out some things about my life, like long-term, super important kinds of things, and those things make me feel more at peace with who I am, blah blah blah.

I've decided that doing puzzles will be my new angsty project, instead of angsty poem-writing, since that pile just keeps getting bigger and only brings me more of the aforementioned angst and longing, etc. So now I'm going to do less meaningful things with my time, less emotional things, like puzzles, and reality television, and responding to angry emails via eBay. I'll leave you with this amazement that awaited me this morning in my inbox, followed immediately (and happily) by my response.

Weird stranger: Hi, Just a suggestion! THIS PICTURE ON THE COFFEE MUG IS NOT OF A TURKISH CHARACTER, BUT GREEK!!! A little common knowledge of national costumes would reveal this fact!

Me: Hi. Just a suggestion. WRITING IN ALL CAPS MEANS YELLING. YELLING AT SOMEONE YOU DON'T KNOW IS RUDE. A little common knowledge would reveal this fact!

I did miss some exclamation points. Oops.

Books are awesome :)

These old mugs are super fun, not for any particularly funny reason though :)

So having school be the top priority in my life over the past five years, I have whittled my life down to the bare necessities: eating, yoga, occasional sunshine, writing, and paying the bills. These things have kept me sane in a very rocky, turmoil-filled time, and I made it! Yay! But now, all of that stress and constant need-to-perform is over, and I'm left with this emptiness in my life that I have to figure out how to fill.

It's not that my life is bad, or that I'm lacking in love or nurturing in some particular way, but some other inertia that I no longer have. I no longer have an ever-present goal I'm reaching for. And that creates a displaced feeling in my soul that I can't quite rid myself of.

So I've been reading The Hunger Games trilogy like a madwoman. I stayed up 'til midnight last night reading like my younger nine-year-old self. I'm funny that way with kid books. I do the same thing with Nancy Drew. When I lived in the jungle, I stayed up so late, I had to use a flashlight in bed to keep reading. Nerdin' out. Like a mofo.

Oh, Canada...

Shout-out to my Canadian peeps - wish I were visiting :)

Last winter/spring, my best friend and I took a few weekend "writing retreats" where we holed up in a hotel room, and other people's empty houses, to write our senior papers. And I loved it. My paper didn't turn out amazing like I'd hoped, but it said something, and people read it, and they either loved it or they hated it, so all-in-all, it was a success.

I remember thinking to myself, "Let's make this a tradition". But when I mentioned this brilliant idea to said friend, she acted like she'd rather die. So, I think I'm going to write by myself. I have post-it notes on my computer, documents on Google Docs, and a senior paper on my desktop, that either need to be written, or heavily edited for publication. Maybe I'll even get a thrift store zine finished for all my faithful followers out there.

So I'll be sitting in this big empty house, with my laptop, enjoying the silence of vacation, and hopefully getting some things done.

Peace out :)

Grad Plans #2

I am having so much anxiety about the overarching theme of graduation. Sure, the ceremony will be great, and the banquet, and the time with family and friends. But this burning in my chest is more than indigestion; it's total fear.

People in my cohort have jobs. People in my cohort are going to get paid, and soon. And I am going to continue to do the things I've been doing all along, because change would be too much for me. Is that sad? Pathetic? I'm not sure that it isn't. There are student loans to pay, and health insurance options to find. And somehow I'm stuck. My brain is stuck. I can't move. I've panicked into stillness.

The beginning of this year, for various reasons (i.e. moving), was horrific. So I'm gradually shifting into the next phase, and that has to be okay for me. I have to accept myself and all of my limitations. I have to accept that I need time and space, and piles of books from the library to ease the transition. I need to order my Slovenia: 1945 book and start to dream again about writing. I need space to move around in. I need rest, and silence, and lots and lots of hugs.

And then, eventually, when I least expect it, I can move on.