Still here...

Just a quickie to say that I am still here and didn't just disappear off the face of the blogging world. But I did move. And now I have no Internet. So it is rare that when I finally do get to go online, that I have enough time and or privacy to write a blog. But I did just want to say... I am still here! I will hopefully one day in the next few weeks have time to explain what has been happening in my life. Craziness, yes, but all good! I'll just leave it with the news that I am with someone new and couldn't be happier. =)

I'm going to be ok.

Texas was exactly what I needed. I have been back for one week and already the difference is immense. I can't even explain it. It was a life changing, perhaps saving, experience.

I credit the most drastic changes to someone I met while down there. He helped me realize that I would be ok. That there are other people out there who will like me and love me for who I am. The relationship we developed in just a few short days is priceless. He helped me more than he will probably ever understand.

Thank you my dear sweet trucker.

Also, while in Texas I was introduced to Dwight Yoakam. I now am obsessed. Hearing his music makes my soul smile... perhaps it's because it reminds me of the fabulous time I had in TX, or maybe it reminds me of Trucker. Either way, it takes me to a happy place.

I finally know I'll be ok.


Some Dwight Yoakam: Turn it On, Turn it Up, Turn Me Loose

Well I'm back again for another night

Of trying to break free from this sadness that I can't lay to rest

This old honky-tonk sure does feel like home

And the music with the laughter seems to soothe my loneliness

So turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

From her memory that's driving me lonely, crazy and blue

It helps me forget her so the louder the better

Hey mister, turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

Now if a tear should fall, if I should whisper her name

To some stranger I'm holdin while we're dancing to an old Buck Owens song

I know she won't mind, she won't even know

'cause she'll be dancing with a memory crying teardrops of her own

So turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

From her memory that's driving me lonely, crazy and blue

It helps me forget her so the louder the better

Hey mister, turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

So turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

From her memory that's driving me lonely, crazy and blue

It helps me forget her so the louder the better

Hey mister, turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

Yeah mister, turn it on, turn it up, turn me loose

A vacation! Yay!

Texas here I come!

A nice and MUCH needed break from the everyday drone of what I call my life.

I leave in approximately 6 1/2 hours and will be gone for a week straight.

I can't wait.

Rope Burn

I feel like I am holding onto a rope. At the other end of the rope is you. I am holding onto that rope with everything I've got, because I feel like if I let go, I might drown and you might float away forever. I don't know how to let go. I don't know if I want to let go. I don't. Not really. But holding onto the rope is making my hands burn. It hurts. And the rope is getting longer. I can see you getting further and further away. And as the rope runs through my hands it hurts more and more. As you get smaller in the horizon I hold on tighter and tighter. I need to let go.

This hurts.

Broken to the core

Why is it that nearly 5 months since the day you promised you wouldn't say goodbye but that you had to leave... am I still waking up and thinking of you? Why are you still in my dreams? Why are you still my last thought every single night? Why do I shed a tear over you, for you, almost everyday?

It's not as though I have never been hurt before. It's not as though I have never loved before.

I guess I just loved you more. My love for you ran deeper. And when you broke my heart, you broke it to the core. Tore out the roots. My wounds have not even begun to heal. People say it takes time, they have no idea.

I still love you my sweet Bear. I still miss you.

Ballet sneakers

So. I was informed tonight that I am a failure in my fathers eyes. I'm sure he feels this way for many reasons, but the reason tonight is because I "quit" dance as a second major in college. Oh gee... didn't realize that mattered to him. I had taken one semester of it my freshman year. And after struggling with college being brand new to me, commuting 4 hours round trip because we couldn't afford for me to live in the city, working part time and realizing that each dance class was only worth 1 credit and would take up much of my time to ever get a degree... and I was only doing it as a second major... kind of just for fun... I knew if I wanted to keep any sanity and do well in my major, I couldn't do dance. Oh well. I wasn't devastated. It wasn't something I had been involved in my whole life, not formally anyway. I was doing it for me, for fun, so why would anyone care if I didn't get a degree in it? No one should of. My dad, is just an ass.

The reason any of this was ever even brought up tonight, was because my father decided to get into a debate with my 13 year old sister about whether wearing shoes while learning to tumble was a good idea or not. My sister is learning it with shoes, because she is a cheerleader, hence the only reason she even tumbles. My dad, thinks she should learn it barefoot... because that is how people tumble. That is how he did it as a gymnast years and years ago. Learning to tumble with sneakers on, is like learning ballet with sneakers on, completely pointless.

Getting mad at the way he was talking to my sister, this is wear I stepped in and said "Uh not really Dad. Bad comparison. People do tumble in sneakers, cheerleaders for example, people however do not ever do ballet with sneakers on."

"How would you know, you've never done it"

Ok. So aside from that being the response of an 8 year old. And the fact that now he is arguing his own point. You don't have to have ever done ballet to know that it is not ever performed in sneakers... unless you do it for fun while you are out and about. On stage, you will not ever see the Nutcracker performed as a ballet in sneakers. It wouldn't be ballet.

Regardless, I answered him with "What? Ballet? Yes. I have."

In his argumentative tone "When you were nine doesn't count."

Getting frustrated with him, I said "I did it in college too..." and was about to tell him what I have just written, that one need not have done ballet to know it is never done in sneakers... when he said with such accusation and malice "Yeah? You mean when you quit?"

Bewildered that the conversation that was never a conversation, but rather a lecture, to my young sister about tumbling and shoes had turned to be about me not getting a degree in dance.

"What?"

"You quit!" He proceeded to storm away to his bedroom and slam the door.

Really? Did that just happen?

"Yeah dad. I failed. I quit dance, which I had only done formally when I was 9 remember?! Big deal. Saved you money that you bitch about every chance you get for helping me get through college." He was already gone at this point... but I can't help myself.

"Ass."

The sad part is, that I had been writing to my best friend living over seas about how a friend of ours, had just lost her father in a sudden way last week, when this... conversation, altercation, confrontation occurred. It makes me sad, because I know that unlike my friend who lost her dad and is devastated, I would only be sad if it had been my father. Not devastated. I know that's not a nice thing to say... but it's the truth.

My father has provided for us, but only with snide remarks and complaints the whole way. He has cared for us, but only in that pat on the back "good job kid" way. He's not really ever been there the way you think a parent should. If I need money, I go to friends, never him. If I had known he'd hold paying for half my schooling over my head every chance he got, I never would have let him. I prefer to not have to ask him for anything... ever. I think we get an "I love you" maybe 3 times a year. And only two times in my life can I remember him actually having any emotion to it. He never knew how to be a good father. And I think he never cared to try either, that's the sad part.

So as I'm writing about a friends loss and how terribly sad the whole situation has been, my dad is getting into every argument he can while bringing up things that have nothing to do with anything being said and making everyone in the room feel like a piece of shit and that the way they choose to do things is totally wrong. And pointing out that some of us are failures. Even if we personally don't view it that way.

So much for death making people reflect on life and being thankful for what they have. Loving those around them and being extra appreciative.

It apparently makes my father think about... nothing.

Elephant smile

I know most of my posts have been rather depressing, apathetic and melancholy... so I thought I'd share this picture. I came across it a few days ago while browsing the web. I love elephants to begin with. And seeing the sun makes me remember the warmth of summer. And he just looks so happy. It makes me smile.

I wish I was crazy...

I keep wasting my days thinking about what could have been, instead of getting up and living for what could be.

And I know this is wrong, which makes it worse. I know I am wasting my time and my life doing nothing. And knowing this makes me even guiltier for not having done anything about it. Sometimes I wish that I was just mental enough, just crazy enough, to not be held accountable for my actions. Just childish enough to get away with not having to care. But. I'm not. So, I am fully responsible for my actions. And I don't want to be.

I don't want to be, because that makes me a bad person, irresponsible. Because I know I am being wasteful of this one life, this one chance I have... and yet I have no motivation to live it right now. I have never been so depressed, or depressing in my whole life.

It's pathetic really.

I know I can change my attitude, my desires, the choices I'm making... but I just don't have the incentive to! I'm uncomfortably comfortable here.

Maybe it's the dull winter weather wearing and tearing on me? Eh. Maybe a little. But in the end it's just me. I'm responsible. And I am being irresponsible.

This wouldn't bother me if I were truly a crazy person right? So maybe it's good that I am aware of it. I guess I really do have my sanity left, some of it anyway.

But I kinda wish I didn't. This would be easier in a state of denial. Is it crazy to wish to be crazy?

I blame him. Can I do that? Can I pin it on him for shattering my heart and leaving me incapable of piecing it back together? Can I pin it on him for being everything I wanted and then not allowing me to have it? I want to. I want to point my finger at him and curse him. I want to scream at him and loathe him and hate him. It's he who won’t leave my thoughts. Who won’t give me room to breathe. It is thoughts of him that are suffocating me and distracting me from life.

But.

I know it's not his fault. And unfortunately for me, I can not blame him. I love him too much to put him at fault. He has his own demons to deal with.

No. I know it's mine.

Damnit.

In my dreams, he always comes back to me

In my dreams, he always comes back to me.

In reality... that outcome seems to be getting more and more hopeless.

I'd rather continue dreaming than to face the hurt in my reality.

I know that is no way to live, which is why I struggle everyday. I struggle with myself to get up and live life rather than to waste it dreaming.

I know I can do it... I just sometimes don't want to.

I like the world where he comes back to me much better.

Breathe

If you are breathing... you are living... and if you are living... you are alright...

... so I just have to remember to breathe.

Empty

It's almost my birthday. Just a couple more days. I'm not old to most, just to the younger kids. Most consider me to still be a yearling myself.

But.

I feel old.

And I feel like I am going through a mid twenties life crisis (a quarter of a life crisis as a friend put it)... is that possible?

I dyed a section of my hair pink last week... just because my younger kid sister was and she had extra dye left. So, on a whim I now have pink in my hair. Not like I haven't had a random dyed piece of hair before... but what compelled me to do so in the 20 seconds after my sister offered me the opportunity? No thought process there.

I am also scheduled to get a tattoo this week. Just a small one. Very personal to me. I just decided this 2 days ago. Thought of the idea and went to schedule the appointment the next morning. Again, not a very long wait and much thought about something that will be with me for the rest of forever...

Aren't these kinda mid life crisis moves?

... I think I am just realizing, or rather acknowledging, that I haven't done anything with my life or with myself. I went through school as we are told we have to. Graduated college (with high honors none the less) and now... I work two part time jobs with no health insurance just trying to squeak by and pay bills.

I have done nothing with my hard earned and damn expensive degree. I can't even say I have done anything worth noting since I graduated a couple flippin years ago. Which is when your "real" life begins right? Or maybe I just have high expectations? My friends are getting married and starting families left and right. One of my closest friends just got engaged last weekend. Maybe this has something to do with how I feel? Ugh.

I haven't traveled. I haven't seen anything cool. I haven't helped save the world. I haven't even moved out on my own. I don't have money and I don't have cool experiences to show for it. The most I have done is to have my heart broken... twice, since graduation. Yippie. Awesome. Fuck.

I know life is all about choices. I know it's my choice to get out and do things. I can't blame anyone but myself... but I want to. I want to blame school for not preparing me enough to get a job in my career. I want to blame the economy. I want to blame Plum and Bear. I want to blame my parents. I want to blame everyone else, everyone who is not me. Surely none of this is my fault. Oh heavens no.

Heh.

I'm terrified of feeling stuck. I'm scared of the complacency of life. And I have done nothing about it. I seem to be waiting on something... I just don't know what... or if it's worth wasting my life for... probably not.

I want to change my path. I do. Pretty badly. I'm overall not a very happy camper. Yet I don't seem to have the right motivation to actually get off my ass and do something. The best I have managed is to play with the idea of a road trip in early summer. Yep. A road trip is all I have come up with. But not just any road trip! It's a trip by myself. And with no real destination (as to avoid getting lost really). Not much of a life changer. But time to think and clear my head. An adventure possibly? Maybe? Hopefully?

Ugh. If this is how I am feeling now...!?! I’m in for it....

A mid life crisis in my twenties.

I. Am. Awesome.