Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Lonely Times at the OK Corral.

This is my last week in my apartment. It's my last week in Little Rock.
And I can't honestly say I'm sad about it. I love my neighborhood and aside from some minor problems I really do like my apartment. But other than that I don't feel like I'm leaving anything that important.

This is mostly due to the fact that the past month has been hectic. And that is putting it lightly.
It's hard to make people understand that I'm not being distant on purpose, I don't intentionally try to keep people at arms length. I've had a lot of....well crap......to deal with. And for some odd reason no one seems to get that.

I am not a person prone to drama, I much prefer to sit back and watch everyone else scramble. But I hate being the person that others depend on for support and then when it comes time that I need a little bit of understanding everyone runs in the other direction. It hurts more than anything to be told in no uncertain terms that my friendship is just not needed anymore.

I'm sorry. I'm venting and I really shouldn't be. But why shouldn't I go home to my family and two of my absolute best friends that I know will be there no matter what happens? Maybe it's something to do with the time of year, but it sucks when you find out that something you thought was so important and held so dear turns out to be a figment of your imagination.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Whoville and the Polar Express





December.

Probably my favorite month all year long, even more so than my birthday month. I love everything about Christmas......except for the whole working in retail thing. I love the cold weather, I love the Christmas lights, the decorations on houses, I love stockings and Christmas cookies, and searching for better Christmas songs. It's a time of year that I always look forward too and always feel sad when it hits December 26.

It makes me sad when I meet people who hate the holidays. I can understand hating how people turn into lunatics and fight over a nose hairtrimmer just because it's 15$ cheaper. But to me, and maybe this is the cheesiest thing I've ever said, Christmas is about being with your family; whether they're biological or people you've acquired over the years. Who cares about presents? Just give me the whole day to sit around in my jammies eating cinnamon buns and drinking hot cocoa.

Now that I've made everybody throw up just a little I'll move on.

The last two weeks have been absolutely insane. I've gone from doing the same thing day in and day out to leaving my job and moving home. I'm sure my sister is just ecstatic........the sarcasm should be oozing down your computer screen right about now. But I'm really not that upset about it. It could actually be kind of nice to be back home for a while. For some reason I'm never completely comfortable like I am there. I suppose it has something to do with me continuously thinking of it as "home".

I've decided not to go back to school for now. I know, I know it's a tragedy. But I have got to get my shit together, I need to figure out who I am and where I want to go, and I'm not going to do that if I'm constantly stressed out about classes. So, I'm getting a full time job that provides health care, a necessity, and moving home so I can save up money and hopefully get a place by myself.

So.....cheers everyone! And have a merry and beautiful Christmas.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Windy Cities and Dinner Plates


So tomorrow is Thanksgiving. And whereas I'm exciting to spend the day with my family and being engrossed in our insanity, but on the other hand working in retail and having to deal with Black Friday kind of puts a damper on the holiday. It's like everyone else gets to go out and have a great long weekend, but for those of us enslaved to corporate clothing and electronic stores its the day from hell. I don't care what any manager says, working the day after Thanksgiving is worse than getting a root canal.

I've been having an issue with moods lately. One minute I want to be around people and be social, and then ten minutes later I've turned my phone off and curled up in bed to read. I don't think I'm depressed and I know being slightly anti-social is one of the things I'm known for....but it's starting to get on my nerves.

Maybe part of it is my deep want for someone to rely on. Yes, yes I love my friends and my family is wonderful blah, blah, blah. But how nice would it be to know there was a name in your phone that no matter what was going on would pick up and genuinely listen.

Somehow I always end up talking about my love life....or lack thereof. It's not that I'm lonely, I'm moderately happy with the way things are. That isn't to say that I wouldn't mind if something changed. I feel like I'm on the edge of something. I don't know if it's bad or good, but I can almost feel it. I just wish someone would tell me that its ok to jump, or its ok to step back.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Headlights and Dashboards

So I have a hard time communicating.
It's something I've been told and it's something I've noticed.
Because of my disposition it is often mistaken for fridged and passive aggressive when in reality the thoughts that are running through my head are often unable to make their way out.
So if you don't feel like reading any further feel free to go do something else.
This is mostly for myself.

I'm largely misunderstood......well that just sounds like the lyric to a bad 90's pop song.
I think for the most part people have a difficult time understanding me. But how can they be expected to when I have a difficult time understanding myself?
I am an introvert in every sense of the word. I'm not shy, but I just don't see the point in talking to someone until I've decided that I want to talk to them. I'd much rather stay home and read given the choice. I am much more comfortable in smaller groups than at huge parties where I don't know half the people in the room; I tend to feel claustrophobic and panicky. Above all, I am not a mean person, but it is difficult for me to show affection; I don't think its something I necessarily have to work on. I have to know someone for what I feel is an adequate amount of time before I let that barrier down.

And while we're on the subject of barriers. I don't want to say I've had the worst luck with relationships, maybe some of the most odd luck. I realize I'm probably too picky but when it comes right down to it all I really want is someone who truly likes me. Someone who wants to be with me and genuinely understands me. I just want a guy who actually wants to be my boyfriend, not a guy who has more emotional baggage than a French diplomats wife.....I have to put a great deal of energy into fixing me, I can't fix him too.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Let The Wild Rumpus Start!




Its been a month since I was on here last.
No wonder no one reads this.

Should I make something up, and say I 've been super crazy busy for a whole month?
Too bad it isn't really true.

I work all the time now, to the point where a day off is like a vacation.
I realize that grown ups all over the world do this for a living, hold down a regular job that is.
But all I've ever known are 4-5 hours shifts that plop right in the middle of my day.
Now I'm working steady hours and can actually pay my bills without it taking up my whole paycheck. So what if that only leaves 20$ for the rest of the week.

I have this overwhelming feeling that I'm boring.
I'll be sitting in a room with someone and that person will be talking about something that I think is genuinely interesting, and in my head all kinds of thoughts are racing. But I never say anything.
It's like there's a wall between my mind and my mouth.
For some reason I just can't make myself say something to carry on the conversation.
It could be that I'm just bored, or maybe it's that I can't seem to put into words the fact that just being around someone else is good enough. I don't feel the compulsion to talk all the time. I'm a quiet person by nature, sometimes I wish I could change this. But unless I've had one too many or I'm in an uncharacteristically good mood I'm not going to jabber for thirty minutes about my day.
I get it from my dad.

I've also decided that I'm going to be Max from Where the Wild Things Are for Halloween.
It is by far my favorite children's book.
I realize that every other human on Planet Earth would say the same thing, but it was the first book I remember reading by myself.
And I love that instead of throwing a temper tantrum when he's sent to his room Max uses his imagination and runs away.
Oh Maurice Sendak. Thank you for dreaming up a little boy in footie pajamas.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Stare at a Wall, See if it Will Move


There's this girl, and she sits at a computer.
She stares out the window a lot while twirling her hair.
She's always thinking and wishing and hoping and dreaming and scheming.
Waiting.
Waiting for something bigger and better to whisk her away.
People tell her things will change.
That one day she'll wake up and she won't recognize herself.

This girl I know?
She doesn't believe a word of it.
So she sits and she looks out the window.
She wonders what it would be like to pack a bag.
Throw a few shirts a pair of jeans and a pair of shoes into a backpack.
Take that backpack and never come back.
But this girl, she knows something she won't say out loud.
She's landlocked.

Landlocked by the walls, and the car, and the people and the job.
And by herself.
Yeah, mostly by herself.
So she sits and she looks out the window.
Her head has never been swimmy with love.
Her life has never been chaotic.
She's never disappeared.

So the girl, the one that I know?
She just stares out the window.
While sitting in front of her computer.
And twirls her hair.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Window Washers and Part-time Gardeners








Apparently my writings are slightly melodramatic. I don't mean for them to be. But I find that if I'm going to spend the time to put something on here it's usually because I've got something on my mind. Not because I'm wanting to talk about how my day went.
I've been re-reading my old journals, and I realized that my writings go one of two ways: hugely dramatic or incredibly boring. There's not a lot of middle ground. Again, I don't mean for them to be like that.
Random Thoughts:
My roommate just killed a huge bug in our bathroom, all I heard was her shriek and then three loud thuds.
I'm starting to get bored with the way my room looks.
I am very, very, very bad at any kind of relationship-type stuff.
I am also a touch neurotic.
I feel like I should be more interesting, or that I'm just not interesting at all.
I'm not as mean as people say I am.
When do you stop feeling like a little kid in an aging body?

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Auditory Confetti





Its not often that I fall instantaneously in love.
But I have.
I have fallen in love with IO Echo.
I heard them on a commercial for some phone, I don't know which one.
They're awesome. Believe it.

If you've ever been apart of unrequited love.
Meaning: You like someone more than they like you, or they don't even know that you have feelings for them.
Listen to IO Echo's song "Doorway"
A-W-E-S-O-M-E
It's exactly what goes through your head when your not sure if your crazy or if the other person is just an asshole.

IO Echo.
"Doorway"

Do it.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Waterfountains Don't Work

*Disclaimer* This is still fiction, at no time has any of this become true.

Well here we are again. I gave you like two months to find something better to do with your life and yet, your still reading this ill-advised refuse. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe you're one of those people that lives with their mother and plays D and D with your old college roommate because neither one of you can get laid.
If that's the case, then I'm sorry that this will be the closest you'll ever get to knowing a woman.
If that's not the case, you deserve what you get.

I always knew my life wasn't going to be one of those where I suddenly realized all the terrible mistakes I'd been making and I made amends for all my missteps. There was never going to be a scene where the music swelled the camera pushed in on my face and you could see it on my face that I knew I was goin' places. Crap like that just doesn't happen, I don't care what you want to believe. And if you think it does you need to get over yourself real quick. At no point does anyone ever wake up and say "Hey, I'm a grown up now, I feel really responsible!" Everyone is scared all the time. Those love scenes you see in the movies? No one has ever experienced one of those, and no one ever will. No one is as interesting as they think.

But I had a good job, a nice apartment and a best friend. So I was reasonably happy with the way things were going. Did I want more? Of course I did! I was human. This is where Randy came in. Yes his name was Randy. I should have known it was stupid just from the fact that he has a ridiculous name. Never mind that he was Charlottes husband.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Stepping off the Curb Into a Big Ass Puddle

You know after a while you begin to tell yourself that this time is the last time. That you aren't going to allow yourself to be sucked into that routine again.

Eventually you can't differentiate between this problem and a drug addiction.

Questions start coming to mind, because you aren't sure if this is because of you or because of something else. So mainly you blame yourself.

This also begins to sound like an abusive relationship.

The problem stems from the fact that it never gets to that point. Ever.

You get to a point where you begin to think that maybe its never going to happen. And you wonder if you'll ever just be able to accept that.

Getting Stuck On The Slide

Michael Jackson died, and its a little weird to see news reels of random people in the street openly weeping like they just found out they had some rare form of cancer and they only had two days to live.
I realize how important he was to the music industry, but seriously the guy was a little beyond creepy. And he'd been holed up in his Vegas house for like two years now.
I'm actually more upset about Ed McMahan dying. I mean come on! Its the guy who announced everything, and he gave away tons of free money.

I also think its amazing that Twitter and Facebook were shut down when people found out Jackson died, and yet if you were to ask any of those people whats going on in Iran? Ten bucks says they would confuse it with Iraq. You know, I'm not going to jump on my soapbox or anything. But come on! A country that we've been having serious disagreements with, and quite possibly has nuclear weapons just held an election that is more than likely not legal. But everyone freaks out when Michael Jackson dies.

Makes perfect sense.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Just killing some time.

I don't keep diaries, I don't write down what I've done a particular day or gush about some boy I happen to like at the time.

I'm cynical and regarded as bitchy by some people.
I have tried to change how, well, mean I can be. But God I can't stand stupid questions.
I have a tendency to become flustered easily, and I have a bad habit of getting my hopes up.
I'm not very good at expressing my emotions, nor am I very good at showing them.

But I'm funny, I love the people I love.
And when I do care about someone, I care about them completely.
I'm quiet, which I think is a plus in my column.
I have no desire of living in the same town I grew up in.
I'm smart, and I know it.
I think there is life outside our universe, but then its just pretentious not to....
I like coloring books. Especially when I'm sick.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Searching for the light switch that just isn't there.



I have a tendency to over explain myself, when there isn't a need for it.
Fix something that isn't broken, or just go ahead and break it.

I'm repeating myself alot these days
Verbally and by doing things that make me want to lock myself in a closet.
I'm throwing rocks at a window but the light is not coming on.

How do you know when something makes sense?

Saturday, June 6, 2009

The names they give to racing horses are just ridiculous.

When do you loose the relationship you once had with your parents that you had when you were a kid? The one where you ran at full, arm flailing speed into their arms because you couldn't wait to tell them about the things you learned in school. Or you just need to feel safe and the only thing that did that was the smell of your dads shirt or the smell of your moms perfume. How do we loose that? How do we go from feeling like they're our hero's to not being really sure how we came from them and not being sure if we can talk to them.

Friday, May 22, 2009

A Walk Through My Mind.


I have now been told by several different people that I'm apparently very hard to get to know.
I realize why this is, I don't talk about myself nor do I ask personal questions.

Now there's not a whole lot I can do when it comes to asking other people questions about themselves, unless I, you know....ask them questions, which knowing me isn't likely to happen. But what I can do is offer up a little information about myself.

My favorite flavor of ice cream is coffee.
My favorite candy bar is the Watchamacallit even though they only sell them at gas stations...they are de-li-cious.
I don't like orange or apple juice.
I know more about car maintanance than the average girl.....or guy for that matter.
I own more Christmas socks than any one person should.
My favorite season is winter, although I do love spring which is apparently at odds with my personality.
I am a hopeless romantic, but I'm extremely cynical.
I know I can sing, but I hesitate to do so in front of others.
I hate shopping, meaning I don't spend hours wandering through stores hoping to find one or two things that I "might" like.
I love classical music, but I almost never listen to it.
My taste in music is better than yours, but you've probably never heard of my bands.
I don't like to talk during a movie I've never seen, but if it is a movie I've seen I'll sing along with the soundtrack.
I love classic cars, but don't ask me to name them.
I sleep better when I'm cold.
Once, when I was two or three I had to have my stomach pumped because I swallowed 13 cents.
My favorite animal is the Polar Bear.
I don't have a favorite color, but if you asked me I'd say orange.

Ok, goodnight.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The Truth about Being Oblivious

I'm beginning to think that I'm one of the most oblivious people in the universe.

How do you notice something that you've basically taught yourself to.....well not notice.

I'm good at pretending like guys aren't there.

But when I do that I get yelled at by the people around me, because apparently not noticing is the wrong thing to do.

But if you don't know me, flirting is not something I'm particularly good at.

Men are insanely confusing to me.

What is so hard about just telling me your attracted to me?

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Riding the bus to the outskirts to the fact that I need love

*Disclaimer* For those who take things too seriously. What I'm about to write is fiction.



If your looking for a story to make you feel better, or cheer you up; this isn't it. If you like the protagonist to be self-sacrificing, self-reliant, witty with all her ducks in a row; well that isn't me. If you like books where the girl falls in love with the boy and they learn to work as a "unit" and come to appreciate each other's differences, then you should go find a romance novel.

What I'm trying to tell you is that you should stop reading immediately and go find something else to do. Go fix that door thats been squeaking for six months, go mow the grass, go wash some laundry. Because this is nothing more than the story of how I came to hate who I am.

You will not like me by the time you read the last word, in fact this may be the last time you like me at all; if you like me in the least. So really, you should stop reading. Because what I'm about to explain to you? It'll make you want to set fire to your computer. If your the type of person who believes everyone deserves a second chance no matter how horrible the something they did, because its the type of thing Jesus might do, what I'm going to tell you will have you thinking Jesus didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. So this is your last chance to stop reading, and I don't know, trick some other poor bastard into reading it; at least you'd get a little entertainment out of this piece of crap. No? Alright then.

This is the story of how I single handedly destroyed the one person I cared most for, and then walked away. How did I do that? It was insanely easy. I had a five year affair with my best friends husband. I'll save the worst of it for later since your apparently invested in this masochistic crap shoot.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Standing in a Crowded Room, With No One There



I'm sitting on my back porch *because its the only place I can steal internet* after a day of running around. And I find myself trying to slow my mind down. And being frustrated that my N key is sticking for some reason and forcing me to slam my finger down on it to get it to work. nnnnnnnnnnnnn. Now my finger is sore.

When did being single become the newest incurable disease? Isn't this an age of growth and progressive thinking? Why then are single men and women, women most especially, in such a rush to match up, pair off and sprint down the aisle? All so they aren't the last one's standing when the music stops playing. Like its some twisted game of musical chairs.

Its become a game of bar hopping, one night stands, five minute conversations and quick glances to see if the person standing next to you is wearing a ring on their left hand. And if they are, trying to smother the disappointment of knowing there's someone else who found that person before you did. It's a problem of constantly wondering "what's wrong with me?"

And analysts and psychiatrists wonder why young adults have such self-esteem problems and communication issues.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Leaf Turning, Page Turning...Whats the Difference?

Turning a new leaf.
Sounds perfectly simple. Too bad it isn't.

I hate pictures of happy couples that make you want to puke because they're so obviously fake.
Staged.
I hate people who try to be something they're not.
Fake.
Why isn't it ok to just be in a bad mood?
Why do you have to make excuses?
Why isn't it ok to be sad once in a while?
Sometimes its easier to be sad than it is to force yourself to be happy.

Witty whiticisms that aren't even funny.
Is it a wonder that being anti-social is preferable?
Stupid criticisms.
Playing favorites and you don't even know it.

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Wishing That Wishing Made Hoping Come True

I feel like everyone has a person they couldn't do without. One person that no matter what happened as long as that person was by their side everything would be alright. I'm not just talking about a significant other, I'm talking about someone you feel completely at ease with, someone who knows you inside and out, someone who can just look at you and know what your thinking. Someone who asks you to come over after they've had the worst day of their lives because they don't feel like you're company they feel like your family.

I can't really say I have anyone like that. I have friends that I love and who I'm sure love me, but I don't really depend on anyone. And I won't be so presumptuous as to say that anyone depends on me. Its so hard to get to a place where you can allow yourself to feel completely at ease, and I am especially bad at it. I tend to put up a front of being harsher than I really am or being quieter than I really am.

Sometimes.....sometimes I wish I had someone.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Wandering Down The Hall Without A Flashlight.



Do you realize when your treating another person horribly?

Is that a trait that everyone posseses or is it one of those things that only a finite amount of humans have the capability of understanding?

How could one person not comprehend the fact that they are making another person feel terrible about themselves?


I understand fully and completely that I am not the nicest person in the universe.

But I always know when I've made another
human being feel less than good about themselves.

So it is beyond me how one minute someone can make you think your important and interesting and then the next make you feel as if you are absolutely nothing.
Lower than nothing.


Are there really those who are so consumed with themselves that they just don't care?

Could it be that I have appalling taste in character?

Maybe I should come up with some sort of character evaluation before I even speak to someone.

It really is beyond me.

If there is even the slightest bit of doubt that you've hurt someone you've cared about you should apologize.

I'm not talking about a cashier at a coffeeshop.

I'm talking about a person that you've had a relationship with, intimate or not.

You'd understand if you were cared about and then forgotten without cause or explanation.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Stopping a Drain With Papertowels




I have to stop.
Just take a moment to breathe, collect myself.
Possibly remind myself that I am an adult.
Why I feel a compulsion to rely on someone else for happiness' sake...
Its something I've struggled with for a while now.



People who say they live in the moment have always astonished me.
How can you not wonder about tomorrow or the next week, or the year to come?
Wondering and guessing doesn't get you anywhere.
I get that.



But for some reason the idea of sitting by and waiting for something to happen,
It's mindboggling.
Trying to make things happen may be even more maddening.



And so patience is something I have to try out.
Its not something I've ever been good at.
Trying as hard as I have in the past is not something I can keep doing.
Asking myself why I'm not good enough, or just not enough.
Well, they're questions that I'm never going to answer on my own.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Beadboard and Coffee Mugs







So I was taking a shower this afternoon, like I do most afternoons before work.

And I was thinking about some of the mundane aspects of my life.

I don't particularly mind the mundane-ness, but you know.

And then I started thinking about what would truly make me happy.

What I could do with myself that would just put me completely at ease.

I think I came up with something.

A two story house renovated into a bookstore and coffeeshop.

The bookstore will be darker tones of woods and soft rugs, big squashy chairs and old antique Tiffany lamps.

The coffeeshop will be in shades of creams, greens and white with wainscotting running the length of the walls. Lots of tables and chairs, a piano for anyone who wants to play and a balcony with....wait for it...even more tables and chairs.

Outside of town I will have a house that looks as if it was dropped into a forest.

I don't want anything huge, not even big.

Maybe two bedrooms.

All windows and hardwood floors with a big front porch.

I want a real fireplace so I can sit in my livingroom and watch it snow in the winter, afterall I plan on living in Oregon or Washington.

I want a dog and a cat, a huge lap dog that sleeps half the day and a cat that has more attitude than I've ever dreamed of having.

I want all of this. More than I've ever wanted to teach.

So what do I do to make it happen?

Saturday, January 3, 2009

A Thesaurus Is A Handy Thing To Have







I've decided I hate everthing I write.

No, seriously even this.

I sound stupid and moronic half the time and I end up getting lost in my own head.

There's a 90% chance that only three people on Planet Earth even read what I have to say.

Something tells me that a 12 year old dyslexic could churn out more profound literary thought than me.

My ideas are colorless and dull and as soon as they hit paper they're imageless and lifeless.

I cannot even begin to fathom how authors come up with plot lines and character devolpment, it seems like a feat unsurpassable.

How can I possibly ask someone to read a story I've come up with when I can't even stand reading it?

Yes, its sad and maybe a little self-pitying.

And yet, here I am.....writing.

For whatever reasons I still write.

I am constantly putting my thoughts onto paper.

Or typing them out.

It's like a mental tick.

So I'll continue writing.

Mostly text that is complete crap.