Wasting.

So there’s this girl in my town…She’s been dealing with eating disorders for years….a long time… I saw her again tonight for the first time in like 3 years. She looks pitiful. She was our waitress tonight and I don’t know if her disposition was related to her lack of body fat or what, but she didn’t know what she was doing. She was out of it. The cook/owner actually took our order, served our food etc… but at the end she acted like she had done it all, and it was just odd. I mean this girl used to talk my ear off when I waited on her… And tonight she barely even acknowledged my existence… I understand that she may not have recognized me…but everything else was just awful. It made me uncomfortable to be there. And the owner was weary of her too… it was awkward. It was disturbing and intriguing to look at her.

Oh and I’m not completely sure what the conversation was about, but she was taking or re-taking orders at another table and the owner was standing by watching and when she walked away he went to the table leaned in and carried on a quiet converstation with them. She had glanced over and saw this and rolled her eyes and shook her head and vaguely mouthed “what the fuck.”   So I wish I knew more of the story. And I hope the sun opens up for her soon.

Curiosity. It killed the cat.

Curiosity killed the cat, but I’m no cat.  And I’m not that curious. Coincidence? Perhaps. Relative? No way.

I’m watching NatGeo again…another interesting program. This one’s on Klans in America.  Pretty interesting. It makes me miss school though. Terribly. Now I do want to be a historian… I used to think I hated history. I LOVE history. It’s so amazing. It makes you so much more aware of what’s going on now. Maybe I’ll look into that at some point.

One thing that really struck me in this program–One of the Klan leaders was preaching to his congregation about black people calling them “african americans” not “negros” or “niggers”   He reasoned that he did not hate or fear “them” but that they are of a counter-culture and that convergence of the cultures may cause the loss of his heritage. Now where else have we heard “counter-culture.”  Hippies? Beatniks? Bob Dylan? One of our most famous musicians and icons of America in/and the 60’s. Where will the future bring the klans, and where will the klans bring America?

Jury is out, but the results are in.

So I had my first class tonight. Small turn out but excellent results. I had two attendees, but we had fun and chocolate chip cookies. mMmMm. I got a very nice order, and I believe I am getting an order on my website tonight too! All from the class! ALSO~~I have TWO already signed up for my next class!! WhooHOO!!!

And P.S. I’ve got this new chipboard set, with the cute SU! birds that i’m obsessed with. (i’ll try to remember to post about this later.) and the chipboard set has like 8 of these birds and another 6 owls… So I decided tonight, I’m going to make them into a mobile!! How AMAZING is that idea?! I’ll hang it near my chalkboard, where my stenciled birds will be talking to eachother! So totally Psyched. I’m Never moving out.

What a fun night!  Perhaps at a later date I will also post pictures of the amazing project I made and how awesome it turned out with the Good Morning Sunshine Paper I used!!! Super psyched. Hopefully tomorrow won’t be a total drag and kill my buzz. Off to dreamland!

Fat Calories and all around goodness.

I am craving a Mocha Latte from Panera.  I tried one at DnD and it didn’t come close. ::SIGH::

Anyway, off to my stamp pad!

Unconditionally

My dad loves me.  After my shower I was just sitting on the couch with my dad for maybe 5 mintues, and he switches to a new television program, and a few minutes later I mosey into my room to do what I had intended to do after my shower. Go to bed.  And my dad comes in truly concerned he says “Did you want to watch something else out there?”

I love him too.

Sounds like…

After a fun night of stampin’ activities… And about 8 thousand goodnights before my cousin left…There appeared this sound. A cat’s mew. My cats were in the house and my dog’s ears perked up and he let out a gutteral “woof.”  I had only moments before quieted the conversation because I too heared this mysterious mew.  My mom went on the porch to double check that the cats were inside, meanwhile the cats stalk into the kitchen, one jumps up to the porch window and glares out, as if watching something…perhaps my mother. Perhaps something…else.  My mother comes back in, and declares she heard nothing outside. We stay quiet briefly and hear this light thumping sound.  We all agree we have no idea what that sound could be, and I whisper-scream pointing  a finger to my mother “these are the types of things I hear in the summer after you guys go to sleep!” Almost accusatory, saying “HAH! I’m not crazy, I do hear sounds of the mystique outside… and I have every right to be fearful!” She gives me a confuzed, passive look and I let it drop to hear for the next intriguing noise… As it doesn’t come I suggest it’s a serial killer outside making kitty noises to lure us out there to kill us. My cousin jumps away from the window and we half heartedly huddle together…The animals are still on alert. I suggest we turn the outside lights on and the inside lights off. My mom bravely goes to the porch again…I stare out the window for a bit…the screens are moving back in forth in the wind, the laundry floats on the line… various weeds blow in the garden. No obviously new tracks through the snow. Nothing alarming. But I am complete thankful that we did that, it reassured me that there was no serial killer waiting on the porch. As we are saying our final goodbye…I reach to pick up one cat from the counter so she doesn’t bolt out the door onto the scary porch, and in doing so we knock an extremely heavy, antique-looking rolling pin onto the stove…I saw my mom jump about 4 inches out of the corner of my eye. Wrong time for noisy accidents.

So jokingly I’m telling my cousin to check the backseat of her car before she gets in…does she want to take the rolling pin out with her yada yada, we’re having a good time joking about our stampin’ scissors and how they’re so sharp they could really do some damage yada yada my mom walks her out, and I lock the door behind them like I said (jokingly at the time) and as I’m sitting there waiting for my mom to come in I’m pray that the animals don’t erupt into noise for any reason, whether in chase of eachother or wonderment of mysterious outside noises. They don’t. But it takes forever for my mom to come back in and by forever I mean 10 minutes in drama time (aka 2 minutes real time).  I’d hate to be in one of those real crisis horror movie situations where someone runs out to do this stupid yet heroic move and the rest of the party is sitting there waiting for the return, and time drags out into unrealistic quandries… yea you know.

Anyway all in all there must have been a stray cat mewing for what ever reason… the thumping who knows, the wind blew something around??  But alas, I will be anxious and fearful for the next week… Nevermind tomorrow being Friday the 13th… Hopefully I’ll leave the gym with friends and have someone meet me outside when I get home to walk me in to my house… And I refuse to be left home alone.

Yes I’m 23 and terrified of the dark. I’ve come to terms with it in the recent years, and it’s just part of who I am. And it’s part of why I don’t think I can move out on my own. My parents went to the grocery store at night a few months ago… My dog was on the porch…I hear him growling (typically a play growl, but when anxiety is running high who wants to take chances) and this extremely loud knocking and rustling…I shut the kitchen door and called my parents cell. Terrified… Asking what could have possibly make all that racket. My dad left his boots on the porch, and hesitantly, almost in tears, with my dad still on the phone, i went out and saw my sweet puppy looking at me with a large work boot over his snout.  I went inside and kept the kitchen door shut (and possibly locked) till my parents returned.  Maybe I’ll live in the Artic Circle half the year and the Antartic Circle the other half… avoid darkness all together. Atleast I wouldn’t get SAD… maybe there’s a Lack of Seasonal Affect Disorder?
Anyway. Goodnight. Sweet Dreams… We need them.

Post Script

I am writing from a once-was-comfy-and-inviting arm chair in Panera drinking the most delicious, but now cold Mocha Latte of my life, wearing my favorite hat and sunglasses. I’ve gotten a few looks, but now that I have the courage to stare back through my sunglasses…this woman infront of me enjoying a sandwich and bottle water with her un-wed has been giving me the weird eye for quite some time now… and she keeps looking over without turning her head. It’s kind of rude don’t you think. I mean granted I chose to come to a public place to deal with my emotions, and it is peculiar to be wearing a winter hat and sunglasses in this fairly warm and dim lounge, but still… I dunno, maybe it’s me. maybe it’s her. does it really matter? i’ll never see her again. She’ll never think of me again.  Maybe she’s jealous of my fabulous hat and amazing sunglasses.

These sunglasses make me feel like that little boy in Big Daddy. I’m invisible. Even though I know you see me. I am invisible. finally.

But now her date is looking at me.

Everywhere that you go…

Not really sure where to start today.  It appeared it was going to be a spectacular day, however 6 hours later I find myself running from every thought that enters my body.  I woke up and began reading my latest book, 3 Willows. It’s the next sisterhood. I read more than half of it to finish it by 12:30. It was pretty great, it had me in near tears quite a few times. And of course I knew that in the end everything would turn out okay–in a very predictable way–I was still happy for/with the characters. I identified with them in ways that I wish I hadn’t, ways that I had thought I successfully put way behind me, buried in a pine box.  I guess it’s just not so.  So the emotions came up a bit, but I didn’t mind. And I didnt’ let them get the better of me.

Then it comes time to go to the grocer.  I was okay with it. I was already in a sullen state of mind. I was ready for the almost inevitable run-in with eyes. I hoped it wouldn’t happen but was pretty sure it would. And it did. And I survived. He’s still the story-teller he’s always been. Eager to share the latest happenings and mishappenings… And I was the quiet me I like to be. And after all this I didn’t break down. Not that I had really anywhere to go from where I started. But I remained calm, and from point one my body language and tone should have told him I’m really not in the mood to talk, and I think he got it. I don’t think he understood, but I think he got it. Which is okay by me.

Driving away I took the long way home, and by long way home I mean I headed in the complete opposite direction.  And I thought. And I tried not to think, but mostly, I thought.  I thought about things that never happened, played out some what-ifs, and tried to replay things that had happened differently in my mind. But all-in-all I’m still me, still where I am, still trying to outrun everything.

I thought about how I felt in his arms. I thought about how safe and comfortable I felt lying there in his bed, in his arms. then I remembered, I wasn’t comfortable…i was utterly scared, scared that his arms might find out who I really was. But somehow that translated into acceptance–and that’s what made me okay. His arms knew, his arms knew who I was, what I was. They didn’t care. It didn’t matter to them who I was. They didn’t care, and they weren’t goign to tell. they just accepted who I was and moved past. and they held me. as if. they knew nothing was wrong and that nothing would ever be wrong. just this utopian grasp of me, not letting me go. Making me stay there against my will, but knowing it’s what I wanted deep inside–it’s what I longed for.

I was scared, but I was comfortable.

“My Body has never been here. but my mind knows the curves of this road all too well.”  that’s an excerpt from a poem I wrote about leaving Johnathan. The first Johnathan. “His body melted against his Eclipse” My creative writing prof. who was an ass by the way loved that second line.  I didn’t care.

Whenever I try to hide, I’m spotted, by everyone. Old classmates, demons, him, myself.  When I want to be seen, when I’m ready to blossom, no one is there. I must fly alone, but when I drown everyone just watches me spin through the whirlpool getting closer and closer to the drain.

I want to go. Away from here. Away from all these memories that haunt me. A man learns from his mistakes, but a wise man learns from the mistakes of others. I know I can not outrun all that haunts me that I must face it and be courageous and get through it.  Courage is facing your fears, if you do not have fear you will never have courage. I feel I could potentially be the most courageous 23 year old. but I will not be. Because I can’t face my fear and although i’d like to be the wise man and learn from ever other person that tried to outrun….everything… that it can’t be done. But maybe instead of being the most courageous 23 year old I could run the fastest, so that they just never catch up. I think that’s called a herion addict, and I’m pretty sure it all catches up in the end… in a pine box. But maybe I could take the path less traversed and make my own path. “Do not go where the path may lead/Go instead where there is no path/And leave a trail”~RWE

I just want to run. for good this time. I tried running to Oklahoma, and I left when I was finally getting what I wanted. I tried running from Keene by clinging onto what I left in Oklahoma…and still it was not working. I tried grasping to what I had at the moment in Keene and I strangled it. I tried enjoying what the summer brought me, and it vansihed, without reason. I tried running to California, but the plane called me home before I could plant any roots.  That’s what I need to do. I need to go and plant roots elsewhere.  I need more homes. I will always be bound to this one. But perhaps someday I can move this one else where.  When I plant roots elsewhere perhaps these will uplift and follow.

For now I am off to research the willow, plane tickets, and cheap ass apartments. Destination: Unknown.

How many Monks does it take?

Ohkay-bitch session.

I’m just so irritable right now.  My eyes are freaking sooo sore and my nose is all stuffed and sinuses inflamed from me rubbing my eyes for 10 minutes in the shower while the water lost all heat. And now I have the sniffles and to make my eyes worse, my mom made french onion soup tonight so the entire house is FILLED with onion-protons that are all collecting about my eyes. I could out run them but that would consist of me running up and down the hall all night long… And I just love my sleep too much to do that.

Another thing that is frustrating me (only because I’m selfish) is that I was just informed I have dog duty tomorrow morning. It really only means that I have to get up 15 minutes earlier to walk and feed the dog and feed the cats…but I resent that they decided to inform me of this as I was going to bed…
Furthermore, we were ALL sitting on the couch together, and my dad got up and made his way back to get the blanket to cover the couch from the aminals… (yea i said aminals.) and I quickly sat up and began picking up all my junk from the coffee table (no it’s not really junk) and as I’m picking up my mom grabs the other end of the blanket and they start attempting to edge me off the couch with the blanket while I’m picking up. I exploded. this was all pre-empted by my dad trying to hold my addressbook for me while i addressed umpteen envelopes (FYI umpteen=10) and he apparently kept forgetting he was holding it cuz his thumb kept rolling over the address i needed at that moment, and then he leaned forward to take the largest/longest sip of water known to mankind (i estimate 2.7 seconds real time) but it has all just been a huge matter of coincidences that started with whatever is wrong with my eyes…. And I couldn’t take it. I’m upset.

Oh and P.S. thoughts of Eyes Wide Open are haunting me again/still….

but tomorrow is Saturday, and that means my weekend will begin tomorrow night. I want to go to the Hoedown but I don’t have anyone to go with… boo.hoo.

Bad Medicine.

Ever hear that Bon Jovi song… “Your love is like bad medicine/Bad medicine is what I need”

Well all this bad medicine is giving me anxiety attacks.  I was just thinking yesterday and today how I was doing much better…granted I haven’t gone to THAT grocery store in a while…okay I went the other night but I knew it was fairly safe and the store was packed so I was stressed about other things…. BUT nonetheless–i’ve been attack free for a bit…Until today.  A different medicine gave me a call…It was a Restricted number and I was feeling risky–so i answered.  I knew right away who it was. I denied it of course to see what he would say…And he’s still his ol’ self. And I handled it very politely and told him I was busy and asked if he could call back later… I didn’t have to hang up on him—as much as I wanted to. I kept my cool…kinda, then I continued putting groceries away and pretty soon I was nearing lightning speed, and I got a text from him…and I was at lightning speed, I caught myself reorganizing the shelfs as I put stuff away, cleaning up the counters and the floor and breathing quickly and my mind was racing. Fuck it.

I mean, I suppose it’s partly my fault because I dropped him a text Thursday when I was overwhelmed, bored, and had begun my route to inebriation.  He didn’t reply, I figured his phone number had changed and he never got it. Today he said nothing about it, maybe he didn’t get it and it’s all a huge coincidence…Maybe I brought this all on myself again. Who knows. But Anxietyville here I come.