Today, while going through notebooks and ripping out last semester's notes, I found some writings from Junior High. I impressed myself with some of them, so I decided to share.
I'm stuck between loving and hating him with such a passion that it consumes all of me.
...and un-explainable addiction to drugs I've never tried.
There's an entire page dedicated to ripping on the college students giving a presentation to my class, and my cousin and I kept track of who said the most "ums and uhs"
It's also interesting to see that what I was concerned with at that time, like having lotion in my locker and recording Gilmore Girls. Oh, back when life was that simple. I need to think that way more often these days.
There was a very cool catchphrase for my company, IDK, which is "Open Your Eyes", a play on the "I" being "Eye". I think I'll use that now.
There were several pages of dreams I had during the time I was dating my first real boyfriend, and they all make me laugh. In one, his father was hitting on my dad, and in another, I drove a car into a church. I love my dreams.
The best thing I found was this:
Sometimes, we forget why we love the ones we love. I don't know how it just slips our minds of hearts, but one day, we just don't believe in it anymore. Believe in the power that an unspoken bond or simple memories can hold. We grow cold and distant, ungrateful, unfeeling. Words no longer cut like knives but dig like splinters, and the harder you try to fix it, the further it pushes in, deeper and deeper until you just give up and wait for it to fester to the surface. We know the right words to say, but choose to push them aside. We harbor secret hates for our once closest loves, and for what reason? Solely forgetfulness. Unfailing forgetfulness. The bane of every human's existence is to forget who they love, to forget how to love. But deep down, that unspoken bond is never broken and those simple memories remain, and resurface, just like splinters. Love is never lost, just sometimes, we forget.
Those are some words that seem so wise from me at only 16. That was only 5 years ago, but it seems like an eternity. It just reminds me how I can never be thankful enough for my siblings teaching me life lessons before I ever had to experience them on my own. Without them, I'd be nothing.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
27 Days
I think I may have finally reached my breaking point. When people share a living space, compromises have to be made, on both sides. Not just one.
I came home on Friday to more furniture randomly placed in our living area, after relocating the majority of my crafting supplies into my already crowded room. My dining room table, which is worth at least a hundred dollars, is covered in tools and computer parts, unusable to anyone but my second roomate. Half of one couch is covered in more tools and camera pieces, and a suitcase has been sitting in the living room for at least a month. Normally, these kinds of things wouldn't even phase me, but after being told my clutter is too much to live with, I feel, once again, that I don't fucking count. My one roomate does not even pay rent here (due to extraneous circumstances), yet he has as much free reign over space, if not more, than I do. I don't count my furniture as "my space", because honestly, who owns a couch and says no one can sit on it? Or tables that no one else can use? Not me, that's for damn sure.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm at a point where telling myself "one more month" isn't cutting it anymore. I want to blow a fuse. I want to stand up for my own damn space and rights as a person. I shouldn't be confined to a room the size of my parents' bathroom. I should have more than a sixth of the freezer space. I should have somewhere to do my work, instead of on a trunk behind a couch. I shouldn't be responsible for dropping of the rent check on time after working two jobs. Bills should not be split two ways between three people.
I cannot wait to be out of here. End of story.
I came home on Friday to more furniture randomly placed in our living area, after relocating the majority of my crafting supplies into my already crowded room. My dining room table, which is worth at least a hundred dollars, is covered in tools and computer parts, unusable to anyone but my second roomate. Half of one couch is covered in more tools and camera pieces, and a suitcase has been sitting in the living room for at least a month. Normally, these kinds of things wouldn't even phase me, but after being told my clutter is too much to live with, I feel, once again, that I don't fucking count. My one roomate does not even pay rent here (due to extraneous circumstances), yet he has as much free reign over space, if not more, than I do. I don't count my furniture as "my space", because honestly, who owns a couch and says no one can sit on it? Or tables that no one else can use? Not me, that's for damn sure.
I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm at a point where telling myself "one more month" isn't cutting it anymore. I want to blow a fuse. I want to stand up for my own damn space and rights as a person. I shouldn't be confined to a room the size of my parents' bathroom. I should have more than a sixth of the freezer space. I should have somewhere to do my work, instead of on a trunk behind a couch. I shouldn't be responsible for dropping of the rent check on time after working two jobs. Bills should not be split two ways between three people.
I cannot wait to be out of here. End of story.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
The Summer, The Fall
June is half-way through, and I haven't written anything yet. Time to remedy that.
For the first time in a while, I don't really need to vent. Life is looking up. I spent some time in Seattle and Portland visiting my sister. Maybe that reminded me that there are better things out there.
My biggest fear right now, as it usually is, is being let down. After many failed attempts, I think I may have found someone I click with. Even though everything is great so far, part of me is scared of being cut out when things start going great. I'm trying to find the balance between putting myself out there and holding everything back in fear. I need to learn a balance, keep myself intriguing, mysterious. It's so hard when I fall so fast.
For the first time in a while, I don't really need to vent. Life is looking up. I spent some time in Seattle and Portland visiting my sister. Maybe that reminded me that there are better things out there.
My biggest fear right now, as it usually is, is being let down. After many failed attempts, I think I may have found someone I click with. Even though everything is great so far, part of me is scared of being cut out when things start going great. I'm trying to find the balance between putting myself out there and holding everything back in fear. I need to learn a balance, keep myself intriguing, mysterious. It's so hard when I fall so fast.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Anything and Everything: Thought Explosion
I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Literally. All I do is sleep and take medication. Maybe I need to take up yoga and vegetarianism. Except for bacon. Never forsake the bacon.
Isn't there a song about looking for love in all the wrong places? Why haven't the Mac people invented a boombox that attaches to your head and blasts your theme song everywhere you go? (Those two thoughts do coincide)
Where did all my creative energy go? Into Facebook and other bullshit? I miss loving my long nights of solitude. Although, I never really loved them. I hated them more than anything.
The idea of having someone is much more comforting than the effort of keeping them happy. SO pessimistic, but honest.
Have I really resorted to online dating at the age of 21? What has happened to our society that this is acceptable? Why have my friends let me do this without question?
Sunburns remind me of why I hate summer, the south, and outdoors. And none of my shorts fit this year. Guess the freshman 15 skipped a couple of years.
I still wear this ring that symbolizes a promise I made at 16, and I only kept it for two years, but this ring has never left my hand for more than a day. What am I holding onto? The life I'm leaving behind but don't want to lose? My innocence, which was never meant to last? I like to believe that it's because of the only real love I felt from anyone in my life. My dad has always been the one person who has been there for me, no matter what I've lied to him about or avoided telling him. He knows, deep down, that I haven't always been honest and that I'm not the person he wanted me to be, but he doesn't care. I guess I just want to find one other person like that in the world.
I guess it's true what they say. Girls fall for their fathers.
Isn't there a song about looking for love in all the wrong places? Why haven't the Mac people invented a boombox that attaches to your head and blasts your theme song everywhere you go? (Those two thoughts do coincide)
Where did all my creative energy go? Into Facebook and other bullshit? I miss loving my long nights of solitude. Although, I never really loved them. I hated them more than anything.
The idea of having someone is much more comforting than the effort of keeping them happy. SO pessimistic, but honest.
Have I really resorted to online dating at the age of 21? What has happened to our society that this is acceptable? Why have my friends let me do this without question?
Sunburns remind me of why I hate summer, the south, and outdoors. And none of my shorts fit this year. Guess the freshman 15 skipped a couple of years.
I still wear this ring that symbolizes a promise I made at 16, and I only kept it for two years, but this ring has never left my hand for more than a day. What am I holding onto? The life I'm leaving behind but don't want to lose? My innocence, which was never meant to last? I like to believe that it's because of the only real love I felt from anyone in my life. My dad has always been the one person who has been there for me, no matter what I've lied to him about or avoided telling him. He knows, deep down, that I haven't always been honest and that I'm not the person he wanted me to be, but he doesn't care. I guess I just want to find one other person like that in the world.
I guess it's true what they say. Girls fall for their fathers.
Home is Wherever I'm with You
I want someone to love me, but not because they desire to love. I want to fill a hole in someone's heart, and not because the hole needs filling. Because I'm the piece that fits.
I see myself with someone who is like a worn sweater. Comfortable and just the right warmth, classically styled, and smells like Home. You can always go without that sweater, to a party or out on the town, but when you come home, it's the first thing you grab and the only thing that makes you feel truly comfortable outside of your own skin.
Maybe the key is to be comfortable with my own skin. You always find that perfect sweater when you don't really need it, right? But once you find it, you know, and you never let go. Your skin, you're stuck with it, and you have to come to terms with who you are. Changing yourself does no good. You always end up back with the same issues and fears you started with.
That's why I need that perfect fit. Someone to pick me up one day and, whether they know it or not, find that feeling of warmth and home that everyone truly wants.
Because, in the end, isn't all we ever want a true Home to come home too?
I see myself with someone who is like a worn sweater. Comfortable and just the right warmth, classically styled, and smells like Home. You can always go without that sweater, to a party or out on the town, but when you come home, it's the first thing you grab and the only thing that makes you feel truly comfortable outside of your own skin.
Maybe the key is to be comfortable with my own skin. You always find that perfect sweater when you don't really need it, right? But once you find it, you know, and you never let go. Your skin, you're stuck with it, and you have to come to terms with who you are. Changing yourself does no good. You always end up back with the same issues and fears you started with.
That's why I need that perfect fit. Someone to pick me up one day and, whether they know it or not, find that feeling of warmth and home that everyone truly wants.
Because, in the end, isn't all we ever want a true Home to come home too?
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Living in Hostility
Most people have a friend or two that they've known for most of their life, or least it feels that way. Those friends that you will always get along with, no matter how long you spend apart, those that know every detail about you. I have a few of these friends, and I live with one of them now. Actually, two of them. I moved into this apartment with Brittany last August. I've known her since we were probably 13 years old. My other room mate is TJ. I met TJ while working at Goodwill here in Madison, and we became best buddies. He is the male version of me, but more childish. I pushed for Brittany and TJ to start dating, because I knew they would love each other. Now, I think I might regret this. TJ moved in with us less than a month after they started dating. At first, it was like a big slumber party every night. We were the happiest little family around, but as time went by, things got tense. I am messy and kind of a hoarder with about 8 projects going on at any given time. Brittany is anal and hates when things sit out on surfaces. Obviously, we clash. TJ is more like me, with games and projects always going on, but not all of his stuff is here. In the past month, things have gotten worse than they ever have been here. I rarely see Brittany any more because she is always in her room doing homework. I rarely see TJ anymore because Brittany wants him to be by her while she does homework; if he isn't, she will whine until he comes by her. Not only are they in their room because of homework, but they both feel that the living room is not theirs because it is mostly my stuff. Now that just pisses me off. When we moved here, Brittany asked me to wait to put up all of my art and decorations so she could put up hers as well. I waited for a month before I put everything up. Brittany put everything she wanted out in the living room, including lamps, art, a chair, and an entire bookshelf of all of her nick-knacks. So, because I have more decorations than her and most of the furniture is mine, that makes the living area uncomfortable? I just don't understand. It's not like the stuff I own is exclusively mine. It's all to share, as long as nothing gets broken. Another reason they do not spend time in the living room is because of my mess. I don't see it as mess, even though I know it is very cluttered, but we have three people living in a tiny, two-bedroom apartment. It's bound to have clutter, and not all of it mine. For example, TJ has three guitars and an entire box of video games in the living room. Brittany has expressed how much my messes bother her, and I try to clean them. I feel that I have improved a lot from when we moved in here, but she doesn't see it.
About a month ago, Brittany and TJ came home and said we needed to talk. "I can't live with you in the fall if things stay the way they are now," is what she said. "I don't want our friendship to get ruined because of this." I completely understood her, and knew it was coming. I dreamed about it earlier that month and had already been looking into other options for the fall. But it still hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no real warning, and I was on my own. I went on Craigslist, and everything was beyond what I could afford, not even considering that I would hate living on my own. I already felt like I lived on my own because I never saw my room mates. I still feel that way. I went outside with TJ to smoke, and I couldn't help by cry. He said he didn't want to do this, "put me out on the street", and I knew that. I told him I had no other options. I went inside, went to Brittany, and said "What do you need from me to still live together in the fall? Because I seriously have no other options." "Do your dishes and keep the living room clean." So I've been doing that, but things are getting more tense, it seems.
This whole situation adds to my feeling of not being wanted. I told TJ how I feel, and that I'm afraid that, in the fall, Brittany will still not hang out with anyone but TJ and lose all of her friends. I want to tell Brittany how I feel, but I don't know how. That's really the reason I'm writing this, to get out what I want to say but probably never will.
"Brittany, I feel really uncomfortable living here. That's why I rarely ever come home. I feel like I don't have a room mate. I know you have school work, but you need to have a life too. None of our friends can remember the last time you hung out with them. I don't want what happened with you and Christina to happen with you and everyone else. It also really bothers me that you insist on TJ being in your room whenever you are doing homework. I never get to spend time with either of you. I hardly even ever see you two. I think living apart this fall will be good for both of us, but I'm still afraid our friendship will fall apart. If you stay the way you are now, doing school work all the time and spending all your free time locked away with TJ, you won't have any friends left by the time you're done with school. I will always ask you to hang out, but I will not put in all the effort. I won't put in extra effort to spend time with you if you keep choosing your boyfriend over friends. I will always be your friend, unless you choose to let our friendship fall apart. I don't want that to happen. I'm not trying to be mean or a bitch, I'm just concerned. It's your decision how you live your life, but realize that people don't sit around and wait for you to make an effort to be a good friend."
About a month ago, Brittany and TJ came home and said we needed to talk. "I can't live with you in the fall if things stay the way they are now," is what she said. "I don't want our friendship to get ruined because of this." I completely understood her, and knew it was coming. I dreamed about it earlier that month and had already been looking into other options for the fall. But it still hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no real warning, and I was on my own. I went on Craigslist, and everything was beyond what I could afford, not even considering that I would hate living on my own. I already felt like I lived on my own because I never saw my room mates. I still feel that way. I went outside with TJ to smoke, and I couldn't help by cry. He said he didn't want to do this, "put me out on the street", and I knew that. I told him I had no other options. I went inside, went to Brittany, and said "What do you need from me to still live together in the fall? Because I seriously have no other options." "Do your dishes and keep the living room clean." So I've been doing that, but things are getting more tense, it seems.
This whole situation adds to my feeling of not being wanted. I told TJ how I feel, and that I'm afraid that, in the fall, Brittany will still not hang out with anyone but TJ and lose all of her friends. I want to tell Brittany how I feel, but I don't know how. That's really the reason I'm writing this, to get out what I want to say but probably never will.
"Brittany, I feel really uncomfortable living here. That's why I rarely ever come home. I feel like I don't have a room mate. I know you have school work, but you need to have a life too. None of our friends can remember the last time you hung out with them. I don't want what happened with you and Christina to happen with you and everyone else. It also really bothers me that you insist on TJ being in your room whenever you are doing homework. I never get to spend time with either of you. I hardly even ever see you two. I think living apart this fall will be good for both of us, but I'm still afraid our friendship will fall apart. If you stay the way you are now, doing school work all the time and spending all your free time locked away with TJ, you won't have any friends left by the time you're done with school. I will always ask you to hang out, but I will not put in all the effort. I won't put in extra effort to spend time with you if you keep choosing your boyfriend over friends. I will always be your friend, unless you choose to let our friendship fall apart. I don't want that to happen. I'm not trying to be mean or a bitch, I'm just concerned. It's your decision how you live your life, but realize that people don't sit around and wait for you to make an effort to be a good friend."
I've Been Searching for a Heart of Gold
This question has been haunting me for months now: Why am I so unwanted?
Whenever I express this, people tell me how wonderful I am and that anyone who can't see that is stupid. Then why do I keep getting rejected? Am I choosing to expend my efforts on people who aren't worth it, who don't see my value?
A person can only take so much rejection. Maybe rejection is a strong word for what I feel. I feel like everyone keeps me at a distance, that they only want me around when feel like it, when they want to be entertained. I am the back-up.
I know that my depression makes the situation seem worse than it really is. I know I have great friends who love and care about me, that my family is there for me no matter what, but there is still a hole that's dying to be filled.
I need someone to be there for me, to listen to me, to hold me when I'm sad, to go be stupid together. I feel like I've lost that in my life. When I try to find it, try to spend time with friends or pursue someone, I am shot down. Whenever it seems like things are going well and will turn around, it all drops out from under me. I call all my friends to hang out, but they're all too busy. I think I've found someone who could make me happy, but they don't feel the same way. I never knew before that girls could be put in the "friend zone", but I am the Queen of the Friend Zone. I know I don't need a boyfriend to be happy, but I want someone to love. I want someone to shower with all of the affection that I have. I want someone to make me smile as much as I make them smile. I want someone to laugh because they're happy to be with, not just because I'm funny.
I don't want to be second. I want to be first, to at least one person.
Whenever I express this, people tell me how wonderful I am and that anyone who can't see that is stupid. Then why do I keep getting rejected? Am I choosing to expend my efforts on people who aren't worth it, who don't see my value?
A person can only take so much rejection. Maybe rejection is a strong word for what I feel. I feel like everyone keeps me at a distance, that they only want me around when feel like it, when they want to be entertained. I am the back-up.
I know that my depression makes the situation seem worse than it really is. I know I have great friends who love and care about me, that my family is there for me no matter what, but there is still a hole that's dying to be filled.
I need someone to be there for me, to listen to me, to hold me when I'm sad, to go be stupid together. I feel like I've lost that in my life. When I try to find it, try to spend time with friends or pursue someone, I am shot down. Whenever it seems like things are going well and will turn around, it all drops out from under me. I call all my friends to hang out, but they're all too busy. I think I've found someone who could make me happy, but they don't feel the same way. I never knew before that girls could be put in the "friend zone", but I am the Queen of the Friend Zone. I know I don't need a boyfriend to be happy, but I want someone to love. I want someone to shower with all of the affection that I have. I want someone to make me smile as much as I make them smile. I want someone to laugh because they're happy to be with, not just because I'm funny.
I don't want to be second. I want to be first, to at least one person.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Dr. House, MD
It's recently come to my attention that I have a stupid amount of medical issues. None of them are serious, just collectively, it's just stupid.
1. Scoliosis: I have minor scoliosis at the base of my neck, right where it goes up into my head. Didn't find this out until two years into chiropractic therapy, when they finally took an x-ray. Mostly, it's gone now.
2. TMJ: I don't remember what it stands for, but it means that my jaw is effed up. Basically, all the muscles in my neck tighten and pull on my jaw, causing it to lock up and give me massive migraines. This started in 8th grade. I now have caps on two of my teeth that have to get refilled once a year to keep my jaw in a place that won't put stress on the muscles.
3. Insomnia: I have not been able to fall asleep like a normal human as long as I can remember. Even my parents tell me that I never liked to sleep. I can only fall asleep without assistance if I'm purely exhausted from not sleeping more than 3-4 hours a night over a span of 2-3 days. I'm finally on meds for it now, and it's decently manageable. Only problem is, once I fall asleep, it takes a herd of flatulent elephants to wake me up.
4. Damaged Bursa Sack: No, it isn't anything dirty. The bursa sack is what keeps your hip joints lubricated (NOT DIRTY!) so they can move smoothly. Mine doesn't work. It happened when my cousin essentially dropped me directly on my hip from 3 feet in the air (long story). Because my left hip doesn't work right, and never will unless I find a way to go to physical therapy, my right hip tries to make up for it. Stupid right hip, that doesn't work, it just makes things worse. Sometimes, it hurts so bad that there is nothing I can do to stop it. Just curl up in a ball and cry for a couple hours until it stops or I exhaust myself. Oh, and this is a condition football players usually get. AWESOME!
5. Unidentified Skin Condition: That's right, it's a mystery. It comes and goes whenever it wants, and dermatologists can't tell me what it is. "It's like eczema, but it's not eczema." Thanks doc, coulda told you that. It started when I was in...1st grade? On the back of my legs, right below my ass (I hate the word "butt"). Then it spread to my elbows. It used to get so bad that my mom would bandage up my legs so I couldn't scratch at it and make it bleed anymore. Again, AWESOME!
6. Nerve Thingy: I've had a knot under my left shoulder blade for 6 years. In order to work on it, massage therapists have to push up through my armpit to get under my shoulder blade. Hurts like birthing twins, simultaneously. I should know. Anyway, this knot pinches some nerve, so when I turn my face to the right for more than 30 seconds, the left side of my face goes numb. I used to wake up with my whole left arm numb from sleeping with my head the wrong way, too.
7. OCD: I have never been diagnosed with OCD, or insomnia for that matter, but I'm almost positive I have it. When I was a young'n, I would rub my hands on my legs incessantly, and count my teeth to make sure they were all there, all the time. Those are only two of the weird things I did. I made people hit me whenever they saw me doing those things, and now I don't do them anymore. Instead, I have other weird things I obsess over, like pouring half a cup of water, dumping it out, and filling the glass all the way, or going to the bathroom 3 times before I go to bed. I studied OCD for some psychology class, and out of the 13 symptoms, I have 12, so I'm pretty sure I have it.
8. Depression: It runs in my family. Mom is bipolar, Dad is clinically depressed, great grandma did voodoo. The usual. I was screwed from the start. I've been on medication for 6 years for it, and it helps. About every two months I have a break down for about 12 hours where I'm positive my world is ending. This last summer, I finally figured out how to catch myself and realize that it's just the crazy talking and everything will be ok. To deal with it, in high school, I didn't cut myself, I gave myself shitty "prison tats", as I like to call them. All but one is covered up now. I keep it as a reminder of what I did, of what I don't want to do anymore. I never tried to kill myself because that's just cheating. I'd rather fight through the pain, hoping there's something better down the road.
This last point segues perfectly into my next idea: The story of my family, an expose on why I am so screwed up.
But that's for next time.
1. Scoliosis: I have minor scoliosis at the base of my neck, right where it goes up into my head. Didn't find this out until two years into chiropractic therapy, when they finally took an x-ray. Mostly, it's gone now.
2. TMJ: I don't remember what it stands for, but it means that my jaw is effed up. Basically, all the muscles in my neck tighten and pull on my jaw, causing it to lock up and give me massive migraines. This started in 8th grade. I now have caps on two of my teeth that have to get refilled once a year to keep my jaw in a place that won't put stress on the muscles.
3. Insomnia: I have not been able to fall asleep like a normal human as long as I can remember. Even my parents tell me that I never liked to sleep. I can only fall asleep without assistance if I'm purely exhausted from not sleeping more than 3-4 hours a night over a span of 2-3 days. I'm finally on meds for it now, and it's decently manageable. Only problem is, once I fall asleep, it takes a herd of flatulent elephants to wake me up.
4. Damaged Bursa Sack: No, it isn't anything dirty. The bursa sack is what keeps your hip joints lubricated (NOT DIRTY!) so they can move smoothly. Mine doesn't work. It happened when my cousin essentially dropped me directly on my hip from 3 feet in the air (long story). Because my left hip doesn't work right, and never will unless I find a way to go to physical therapy, my right hip tries to make up for it. Stupid right hip, that doesn't work, it just makes things worse. Sometimes, it hurts so bad that there is nothing I can do to stop it. Just curl up in a ball and cry for a couple hours until it stops or I exhaust myself. Oh, and this is a condition football players usually get. AWESOME!
5. Unidentified Skin Condition: That's right, it's a mystery. It comes and goes whenever it wants, and dermatologists can't tell me what it is. "It's like eczema, but it's not eczema." Thanks doc, coulda told you that. It started when I was in...1st grade? On the back of my legs, right below my ass (I hate the word "butt"). Then it spread to my elbows. It used to get so bad that my mom would bandage up my legs so I couldn't scratch at it and make it bleed anymore. Again, AWESOME!
6. Nerve Thingy: I've had a knot under my left shoulder blade for 6 years. In order to work on it, massage therapists have to push up through my armpit to get under my shoulder blade. Hurts like birthing twins, simultaneously. I should know. Anyway, this knot pinches some nerve, so when I turn my face to the right for more than 30 seconds, the left side of my face goes numb. I used to wake up with my whole left arm numb from sleeping with my head the wrong way, too.
7. OCD: I have never been diagnosed with OCD, or insomnia for that matter, but I'm almost positive I have it. When I was a young'n, I would rub my hands on my legs incessantly, and count my teeth to make sure they were all there, all the time. Those are only two of the weird things I did. I made people hit me whenever they saw me doing those things, and now I don't do them anymore. Instead, I have other weird things I obsess over, like pouring half a cup of water, dumping it out, and filling the glass all the way, or going to the bathroom 3 times before I go to bed. I studied OCD for some psychology class, and out of the 13 symptoms, I have 12, so I'm pretty sure I have it.
8. Depression: It runs in my family. Mom is bipolar, Dad is clinically depressed, great grandma did voodoo. The usual. I was screwed from the start. I've been on medication for 6 years for it, and it helps. About every two months I have a break down for about 12 hours where I'm positive my world is ending. This last summer, I finally figured out how to catch myself and realize that it's just the crazy talking and everything will be ok. To deal with it, in high school, I didn't cut myself, I gave myself shitty "prison tats", as I like to call them. All but one is covered up now. I keep it as a reminder of what I did, of what I don't want to do anymore. I never tried to kill myself because that's just cheating. I'd rather fight through the pain, hoping there's something better down the road.
This last point segues perfectly into my next idea: The story of my family, an expose on why I am so screwed up.
But that's for next time.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Character Development
Who's ready for some crazy, new characters? Well, I sure am. I have enough to go around, so I'll share!
Today's cast will include: The Hunchback, Mr. Orrin, Captain Genius, The Surf Hipster, Miss Crazypants, and Hippy Neighbors.
The Hunchback:
Don't ask me what his real name is. I try to forget it. I try to forget he exists. If only I didn't have to work at that stupid gift store I would never have acknowledged his existence, but noooooo. Every week, I sit at this little desk, hoping he doesn't show up, with his shuffle, nasally, sniffly voice, and inappropriate comments. What kind of person spends their free time either at this horrible little store or listening to bad rap music and drawing sports cars? This guy. In his sweater vests, standing to close too you, asking personal questions. I'd punch him if I wasn't avoiding seeing his face.
Mr. Orrin:
Two words can sum up this man: creeper and attractive. Oh, and "ties", as in neck ties. He collects them. When I first met Mr. Orrin, I had the most unusual feeling that I don't think I'll ever have again: confusing attraction and fear of molestation. I couldn't hold a conversation with him, partially because he could never properly finish one. After weeks of trying to figure him out, I decided to avoid him all together, until one day, he came to me, looking for something tye-died. It was a denim jacket. I told him to bedazzle it, and he agreed, because the men at the biker bars would love it and give him free drinks. That comment alone won my approval. As time went on, my comments on his awkward demeanor, such as "Hey, you should come check out my basement. I have a really nice couch; it's a pullout" became common jokes, evolving into a children's show titled Mr. Orrin's Neighborhood. I'm not so scared of Mr. Orrin anymore, but I hope to share his bizarre qualities with a wider population.
Captain Genius:
Ha, if you can't guess my opinion of this person based on his name, then, well, you should be called Captain Genius. This man, no, this BOY thinks he knows everything. His opinion is infallible. Don't let his unique exterior fool you into believing he is open minded. He's about as open minded as my high school friend Gus who claimed to be an anarchist but yelled at us to stay in proper lines in marching band. I won't go into too much detail on this guy; I'll just leave it at: Boy with Potential to be a Super Hero (once he gets past his Ego issues).
The Surf Hipster:
You thought you knew what California was all about, didn't you, Ron Burgundy? Well you got one thing right: Womanizers. At least they have good taste in clothing and music, and their hair is nice. Oh, and if a Surf Hipster tries to convince you to watch Super Jail, do it, unless you're prone to having nightmares.
Miss Crazypants:
Have you ever met someone that made you laugh uncontrollably, but you were never sure if it was on purpose or not? Or perhaps they told you they were a crack baby or that they wanted you to get hit by a car? Then you've probably met this chick. She looks like she's 16, but she's 25 or something, with a kid, who's equally as dumb. She thought Paris and Italy were the same place. He thought Mario and Luigi were from Mexico. Anyway, Miss Crazypants tried to get my sidekick fired for no good reason, and I just can't have that. Thus began the Savers wars. These lasted about two weeks, consisting of constant battles, both in and out of offices, carefully planned retorts, and documentation of actions. Eventually, Miss Crazypants must have gone on some medication or something, because now we're buddies. Just....don't ask. I have no answers.
Hippy Neighbors:
These guys are about as stoned as you can get. Not that I would know how much that is, I just assume this is it, especially when I can smell their pot in my kitchen (I live below them). HN1, as I'll call him, doesn't like it when I open the door. Apparently I do it "every fuckin' time" he's about to open it, and it scares the shit out of him. Now, how someone opening the door from the other side is scary to an adult man, I do not know. HN2, he likes the snow. Snow makes everything look clean. He doesn't like it unless it's below zero outside. He also has an epic beard, which probably houses mice. Very stoned mice.
*To anyone who bothers to read this, if you think you might be one of these people, don't worry, you probably are.
Today's cast will include: The Hunchback, Mr. Orrin, Captain Genius, The Surf Hipster, Miss Crazypants, and Hippy Neighbors.
The Hunchback:
Don't ask me what his real name is. I try to forget it. I try to forget he exists. If only I didn't have to work at that stupid gift store I would never have acknowledged his existence, but noooooo. Every week, I sit at this little desk, hoping he doesn't show up, with his shuffle, nasally, sniffly voice, and inappropriate comments. What kind of person spends their free time either at this horrible little store or listening to bad rap music and drawing sports cars? This guy. In his sweater vests, standing to close too you, asking personal questions. I'd punch him if I wasn't avoiding seeing his face.
Mr. Orrin:
Two words can sum up this man: creeper and attractive. Oh, and "ties", as in neck ties. He collects them. When I first met Mr. Orrin, I had the most unusual feeling that I don't think I'll ever have again: confusing attraction and fear of molestation. I couldn't hold a conversation with him, partially because he could never properly finish one. After weeks of trying to figure him out, I decided to avoid him all together, until one day, he came to me, looking for something tye-died. It was a denim jacket. I told him to bedazzle it, and he agreed, because the men at the biker bars would love it and give him free drinks. That comment alone won my approval. As time went on, my comments on his awkward demeanor, such as "Hey, you should come check out my basement. I have a really nice couch; it's a pullout" became common jokes, evolving into a children's show titled Mr. Orrin's Neighborhood. I'm not so scared of Mr. Orrin anymore, but I hope to share his bizarre qualities with a wider population.
Captain Genius:
Ha, if you can't guess my opinion of this person based on his name, then, well, you should be called Captain Genius. This man, no, this BOY thinks he knows everything. His opinion is infallible. Don't let his unique exterior fool you into believing he is open minded. He's about as open minded as my high school friend Gus who claimed to be an anarchist but yelled at us to stay in proper lines in marching band. I won't go into too much detail on this guy; I'll just leave it at: Boy with Potential to be a Super Hero (once he gets past his Ego issues).
The Surf Hipster:
You thought you knew what California was all about, didn't you, Ron Burgundy? Well you got one thing right: Womanizers. At least they have good taste in clothing and music, and their hair is nice. Oh, and if a Surf Hipster tries to convince you to watch Super Jail, do it, unless you're prone to having nightmares.
Miss Crazypants:
Have you ever met someone that made you laugh uncontrollably, but you were never sure if it was on purpose or not? Or perhaps they told you they were a crack baby or that they wanted you to get hit by a car? Then you've probably met this chick. She looks like she's 16, but she's 25 or something, with a kid, who's equally as dumb. She thought Paris and Italy were the same place. He thought Mario and Luigi were from Mexico. Anyway, Miss Crazypants tried to get my sidekick fired for no good reason, and I just can't have that. Thus began the Savers wars. These lasted about two weeks, consisting of constant battles, both in and out of offices, carefully planned retorts, and documentation of actions. Eventually, Miss Crazypants must have gone on some medication or something, because now we're buddies. Just....don't ask. I have no answers.
Hippy Neighbors:
These guys are about as stoned as you can get. Not that I would know how much that is, I just assume this is it, especially when I can smell their pot in my kitchen (I live below them). HN1, as I'll call him, doesn't like it when I open the door. Apparently I do it "every fuckin' time" he's about to open it, and it scares the shit out of him. Now, how someone opening the door from the other side is scary to an adult man, I do not know. HN2, he likes the snow. Snow makes everything look clean. He doesn't like it unless it's below zero outside. He also has an epic beard, which probably houses mice. Very stoned mice.
*To anyone who bothers to read this, if you think you might be one of these people, don't worry, you probably are.
A New Year
So far, 2011 is equally as busy and obnoxious as 2010. Lots of things have changed, which may seem small to me, but collectively, they add up. I'm single again for the first time in, well, a long time, and I've forgotten what it's like to not have a fall back for attention. I have a new room mate, who is also one my best friends and my current room mate's boyfriend. We make quite an interesting little family, which apparently needs two refrigerators. This semester, I will be finishing my Fashion Marketing program, which leaves me with about a semester of school left to finish up my second program. That's kind of scary, because that leaves nothing but to start up my itty bitty company. It's a huge endeavor, but amazingly, I have a ton of support. Another new occurrence, my mom is proud of me and backing me 100% in my idea/dream. For Christmas, I got the best gift ever: 100 personalized fabric tags with my company name and logo on them. This is it folks. It's real.
As for 2011, I'm determined it will get better. Every little downfall I've been hitting, I'll find a way out of it. Just this week, my boss told me my job is going to change, drastically. So much so, in fact, I'm going to have no option but to find another job. I almost cried when he told me this. I haven't even been at Savers for a year, and I like it there, for the most part. I love what I do, and how many more second-hand stores are there left in Madison for me to work at? But like I said, there's always a way out of these little pits I keep falling into. The Boston Store is looking for an Assistant Visual Merchandiser. WOAH! That's what I want to do if my company isn't as successful as I dream it will be. Say what? The Visual Merchandiser is a teacher I had who LOVED me? And she says she's put in a good word for me? Sounds good right? Not quite. It's only 20 hours a week. I'm already poor as it is, without spending 10 more hours of my week not getting paid. To sum this all up, I can take this Visual Merchandising job now, working a few hours a week at Savers to pay the rest of my bills, and keep my killer discount.
This blog has been totally out of character for me, but I just needed to get this out there. My life is changing must faster than I expected. Soon, I'll have my college education under my belt and free time to follow my dreams. I can focus on what I want, not what accommodates everyone else. It's just within my grasp, and it's damn scary, my friends. Growing up is pretty damn scary.
As for 2011, I'm determined it will get better. Every little downfall I've been hitting, I'll find a way out of it. Just this week, my boss told me my job is going to change, drastically. So much so, in fact, I'm going to have no option but to find another job. I almost cried when he told me this. I haven't even been at Savers for a year, and I like it there, for the most part. I love what I do, and how many more second-hand stores are there left in Madison for me to work at? But like I said, there's always a way out of these little pits I keep falling into. The Boston Store is looking for an Assistant Visual Merchandiser. WOAH! That's what I want to do if my company isn't as successful as I dream it will be. Say what? The Visual Merchandiser is a teacher I had who LOVED me? And she says she's put in a good word for me? Sounds good right? Not quite. It's only 20 hours a week. I'm already poor as it is, without spending 10 more hours of my week not getting paid. To sum this all up, I can take this Visual Merchandising job now, working a few hours a week at Savers to pay the rest of my bills, and keep my killer discount.
This blog has been totally out of character for me, but I just needed to get this out there. My life is changing must faster than I expected. Soon, I'll have my college education under my belt and free time to follow my dreams. I can focus on what I want, not what accommodates everyone else. It's just within my grasp, and it's damn scary, my friends. Growing up is pretty damn scary.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)