Come With Me...

All the Names by Jose Saramago

2012-02-01T11:16:00.000-08:00

If any of you were planning on reading it, I'm gonna go ahead and spoil it for you:

In the end, the registrar is in on the madness, he doesn't get fired, and the woman is dead.

I think it was somehow about the way the lives of the dead interweave through the lives of the living and we can't separate them out. Maybe it was about how life lives on long after death. (More so if someone fusses with all the records and erases the date of your death and no one is ever there to correct them).

I want to know what happened with the ground floor apartment lady. I want to know what his journey back into the darkness really meant. I want to know why or when or how the registrar came to love her too.

I found the book relatively difficult to read because all of the sentences are VERY long. Sometimes an entire page length long. Each sentence is about so many things you forget what happened at the beginning of it, and I constantly had to re-read entire sections to understand what was even going on! I don't know if this was a style adopted by the writer or if it was just the way it was translated.

I think I could spend a lot more time post-read contemplating the various parts of this book. In fact, weeks from now it may still be edging it's way into my thoughts.

But I really have no time for that. I'm onto my next book! If I can finish it by the end of this week then I will caught up with my goal.

What next? A book by another Portuguese writer: The Implacable Order of Things by Jose Juis Peixoto.

Book Week 3

2012-01-29T18:53:00.000-08:00

Errrhhmm.... This week I didn't finish any book. Mostly I didn't feel like reading.

But partially, I started reading a book that's very interesting but not particularly intriguing. And then I started another book that's very intriguing but very difficult to read.

I hope maybe then, next week, I'll have finished two books, meaning, I'm caught up.

If not I'll start feeling really bad about having set a goal that I'm falling behind on. I like to put a lot of pressure on myself like that...

Diets

2012-01-29T12:56:00.000-08:00

Everyone always talks about how terrible carbs are for you and how the world will end if you eat too many carbs and how the reason I'm so fat is because of carbs.

But....

I LOVE carbohydrates. In an immoderate sort of way.

I love rice and bread and pasta and pretty much every kind of grain made in every way. I've tried to switch to whole grains, and I do mostly consume whole grains, every time I can, but "everyone" says that that's just not enough. That's why I'm fat.

I just want to go one record saying that if I could I would have a diet that consisted entirely of bread and bagels and pasta load after pasta load. I'd never need to eat meat again. Cause I'd be so full and happy of terrible for me carbs.

The Clandestine something something Miguel Littin

2012-01-19T01:00:00.000-08:00

This week I read This Book:

It was a good, interesting, and short read. It wasn't anything close to the usual Gabriel Garcia Marquez style but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

I read a lot of information that I hadn't previously known, read about a documentary I've never watched, and hey, I finished a new book.

The Colony of Unrequited Dreams

2012-01-13T00:55:00.001-08:00

The title somehow left me wanting more than what was given.

The book is about a couple whose lives are inexplicably intertwined throughout their lives in ways that as a reader we don't quite understand. We are sure that in his own guarded way he loves her. He is unfit for sex so they never have an affair. They are unfit as partners so he marries a suitable, docile, and other than mere introductions is never introduced again. She (the counterpart of the couple, not the barely mentioned wife) miiiiight love him, but we find out that maybe she was too traumatized by her own secrets to have loved him.

We are sure that their paths cross many times, by her design and love, I have come to doubt.

They are both so self-conscious, guarded, and secret laden that the entire six-hund-some-odd pages they can never address each other earnestly. They're too caught up in their characters they've made for each other out of irony, sarcasm, and wit to sincerely interact. Not to spoil it for any would-be readers (though I doubt I have any readers of my own, actually) but they finally give in and in the last 15- 20 pages they share ONE embrace and have one real, honest, and upfront interaction with each other.

The book is an approximately 60 year saga of the history of newfoundland. I don't know enough of the actual history of newfoundland to quite grasp what's a joke, what's the truth, and what is poetic license. But it did teach me a bit about the country, which I always like in a book. We get to read of unionizing attempts, extreme patriotism, and inner politics. Page upon page of scenery boasting bores me but that's just because I'm that type of reader/person.

Beyond the couple's oddsandends relationship and the history of newfoundland the novel is mostly about a man's embaressing ambition. He is often "whitewayed" (a term used in the book for someone scammed) and made to look the idiot. He makes a lot of bad decisions and in some ways has understandable good intentions. He somehow ends up the first premier of NF. (To be honest I still hardly know what a premier is. I do know he is voted into place and heads the country even if it is just a province of Canada). From there he makes and takes a lot of money and.... That's sort of it. I feel like he never redeemed himself. He started out and remained a physically and otherwise small man that wasn't able to understand the people around him, make any imprint on their lives, or help anyone. He died unable to speak or see. Surprise surprise. I was waiting for the moment when he would emerge the big man, the hero with a sturdy chest, and champion something, anything. It's the idealist in me, the one that always wants a fairytale.

I secretly hope they made a canadian movie from the book so that way they'll bastardize it and make it about some ruggedly handsome scruffy man fighting for his ideals while his life is woven with love. His soulmate, tortured by both her past and her love for him, dances in and out. They share extremely passionate scenes of heartbreak. I spend 75% of the movie aching for them to see the truth and allow themselves to give in and be happy. When they are old and decrepit they finally see the follies of their ways and have nights of heartbreaking, its-too-late-now type of passion (Love in the time of Cholera style) . As watchers we cry over their lives wasted and the love not lost but carried on against all odds. A happy ending. That would be the much better version of it.

(Before I finish, let me iterate that I didn't DISLIKE the book, really. As it was unfolding I thought it was rather interesting. I was just let down and disappointed by the time it was over.)

2012 Book Challenge

2012-01-11T14:14:00.000-08:00

This year I arbitrarily decided to set my sights high for the 2012 book challenge. Last year I did 25 books and barely made it.

This year I have decided to try and read one book a week.

It isn't the reading pace that worries me. I'm quite sure I can read at least 600 pages easily in a week. These are things that worry me:

Having 52 books on hand that interest me enough to read them fully. I'm a terrible reader in that I like what I like and don't appreciate EVERYTHING for the sake of it being so. I have personal taste which makes me a very bad reader indeed. Good readers have open minds and are willing to read anything and can appreciate a book for, if nothing more, than being a full book.
When I read I'm likely to let everything else fall to the wayside: exercising, socializing, sleeping, eating, etc. I'm known to reading-binge and not sleep for two days to get a particularly long book done. I usually don't allow myself to read much because I need a life beyond books.
I don't have a lot of money. So I'll need to start making serious friends with the nearest library.

Aside from those worries, I have a terrible habit of forgetting something as soon as I'm done reading it. I can keep in my brain a thousand useless facts about germs, weddings, the origins of pomelos, yet once I'm done with a book or movie, I'm done.

To help fight against this I have decided to write a small something about each book each week. Even if a 5 word impression of it. I will write SOMETHING.

Last week's book: The People of Paper by Salvador Plasencia

I'm always a fan of magical realism. I'm also a fan of Latin America. This mix between coming of age, metafiction, love, mexican-americans and the identity issues of being anything-american (Other than just american-american), and magical realism seemed like the perfect pot to brew for me.

It told the story of bed-wetting and self mutilating, love-losing Federico de la Fe (who seems a little schizo in the beginning) and his daughter Little Merced. But it mostly tells the story of lost love in general and the obsession it can bring. The way it changes lives. This isn't a new theme for novels by any means. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.

It was an interesting read for it's use of columns and scratch-outs and different voices. (I also love books with changing narrators).

But for the most part it was just a book I mildly liked, not one I loved. It had all the right ingredients but failed to really entice me. It wasn't BORING and it wasn't BAD. It just didn't have the pull of being a FAVORITE.

I think I'd still read something else written by Plasencia but I definitely wouldn't seek it out.

This weeks book: The Colony of Unrequited Dreams

A year in review

2012-01-05T00:09:00.000-08:00

So far this year (the past 4 days) I've been struggling to get into the "let's review the year" sort of mood. Usually I'm all for being retrospective, nostalgic, and metaphoric about the evenings happenings. All this new year's season I haven't been able to muster it.

It doesn't feel like something ending. Or maybe I'm just not ready for it to end.

I can barely remember what happened in 2011!! Let's see what I can think up...

I moved into our apartment. It's had it's ups and downs, moments I just couldn't take it anymore, moments when I couldn't be happier with it, and a lot of laughs in between. (Don't forget the chronicles of the crazy neighbors). We have our dinner days which is extremely convenient. I've pretty much stopped seeing friends other than the ones I live with. I've pretty much resigned myself to Adam's mess. I've also resolved to finally MOVE IN (if you know what I mean).
I left my old job and was ecstatic about it. I got a new job which I was incredibly hopeful for. I worked REALLY HARD and REALLY WELL and was incredibly disappointed with the overall results. I spent most of the year in that stage. I got laid off and was happy about it, miserable about it, despondent about it, and finally accepting of it. I enter this year unemployed but still trying to maintain a bright outlook.
I worked on about half a million hobbies: photography, painting, whittling wood, drawing, cross-stitching, rubber stamp making, jewelry making, language learning, instrument playing, puzzle doing, and countless countless others.
I finally got around to really changing my life in regards to eating habits and exercise. I make healthier and smarter choices that make me feel better about myself when I eat. Instead of napping or watching TV or vegging around reading a book, I often choose to exercise instead.
I was hit-and-run, just straight out hit, my car broke down a couple of times.
I still don't know what I want to do with my life and if you ask I'm likely to just start crying. But on a more positive note, I do know, now, several things I DON'T want to do.
I've learned how to fish.
Ok, that last one is a lie. But I watch a lot of "River Monsters" late at night.
I've planned what I would call approximately 45% of our wedding.
I've gone to new cities I never even considered visiting (but no new countries this year).

But more importantly and much more to my satisfaction here are some things to note:

I hardly spent any time in the hospital visiting dear/loved ones. Only a couple days or so. This is a BIG change from last year if you'll recall.
I didn't spend ANY time in ANY funeral homes or funerals. This is also a big change from last year and a VERY welcome one.
I spent at least 85% of the time working on being really positive, upbeat, and looking at the bright side.
The relationship with my parents have significantly improved.
My relationship with my dog has never stopped growing.

........

And I guess that's it really.

It's been a perfectly boring, mundane, nothing crazy happening year. I loved it. It was everything I was hoping for.

As for resolutions?

Stay tuned to another entry.

And so it is...

2012-01-04T14:10:00.000-08:00

There is a long list of things I can do for you:

Help you find your glasses
Pick up your groceries
Pick up your dry cleaning
Answer the phones
Drop off the check to pay your water
Cheer you on as you swim
Let you borrow 10 - 20 bucks here and there.

But there is a longer list of things I cannot do:

Buy you a beautiful home
Solve all your problems
Help you enough to decrease the stress I see weighing you down
Make sure you're wearing only the best and most stylish clothes at all times
Ensure you aren't working too hard
Make you happy.

My entire life has been accumulating this list of things I can and cannot do. Sometimes it kills me that certain things are on the list of things I cannot do.

What I wore today

2011-12-07T11:12:00.000-08:00

I wish I could wear my fleece tights and wool shorts EVERY day.

Goals.

2011-10-20T00:59:00.001-07:00

In my life I haven't been one to physically challenge myself. I was devoted to ballet for around 10 yrs. of my life, I hit some milestones. I got pointe shoes. And honestly? It stood as the only physical achievement I felt like I had hit. It was my only athletic victory.

But with my whole "be healthy" lifestyle makeover that's suddenly changed. Suddenly I'm beginning to feel a small sort of pride in the things I can do.

I've cut naps out of my days in exchange for regular hour and a half exercise. I am able to push myself and go further and further each day. I can do 10 push ups. I beat everyone in the house on sit-ups and leg lifts. I can run around the block!!!

I eat more fruits and veggies that sugars or desserts. I eat mostly whole grains, meat usually once a day. I've cut out all high sodium, high calorie, overly processed, microwave, or fast food.

I have been many things. Fit or "in shape" haven't been one of them. Until now, that is.

Physicality isn't everything. Body shape and diet aren't always a priority. I understand that.

But it's nice for once to not have the shame of being the first out of breath or the one not eating the most. It's nice to not be embarrassed and worried about diabetes or not building enough calcium or blah blah blah.

Next on the goals list?

A job/career that I'm truly happy with.
Going back to school.
Saving money.

These are the things that I think will make me a real grown up.

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Doors

2011-10-13T10:13:00.000-07:00

Last night I had this dream that I was in this large house getting ready for the end of the night. Before I went to be I needed to make sure all the doors and windows were locked, all the lights turned out.

I went from room to room locking door and door, closing the window shades, turning off the lights. Some of the switches would turn on more lights, others would turn them off.

As soon as I realized one door was closed I'd find another unlocked or completely open, swinging in the wind. Shutter and shutter needed to be closed. I went from room to room growing more and more afraid of open doors and windows and lights and how dark it was outside.

I was suddenly stuck in a maze of locked doors, needing to be behind the most locked door to protect me. To stop whatever was out there from getting me.

And then I realized.

I realized I was locking it in.

Locking it in with me.

My Productive Day Off

2011-10-10T18:43:00.000-07:00

Did the dishes
Made PB&J + Tea for breakfast
Browsed through wedding photographers
Shopped around online a little (oops. that's not productive)
Did at least 3 loads of laundry
Cleaned EVERYTHING in the bathroom using various scrubbing chemicals and devices: Sink, toilet, shower, floor.
Cleaned table
Cleaned living room
Made Tofu, Spinach, & Cilantro Miso salad Lunch. (Week 3 of diet commences)
Applied to exactly 14 jobs online
Went on a 40 min. run/walk (it was about even amount of running and walking) in the rain
Did about half a million sit-ups, arm weight exercises, leg lifts, rises, push-ups, and stretches until I was EXHAUSTED.
A 20 min. Wii Zumba thing (don't judge me!!)

And it's only 6:30!!

Next stops?

Shower
Blogging around
Dinner
More Cleaning
Relax?

The Elegance.

2011-09-19T01:08:00.000-07:00

First of all, I tend to dislike book reviews because they are a science created to criticize art and extract spindley, gangly bones to act as weapons from some living, breathing, beautiful creature. Thus butchering it.

So all my reviews are all very emotion-led, absolutely unrefined, and probably terrible.

But, I've just finished The Elegance of the Hedgehog and I need some sort of outlet for everything spinning inside of it.

I absolutely cannot believe it. Maybe a more cynical reader saw it coming from miles away, but I did not. I was so wrapped up in philosophical wonderings and the antics of intelligent children to guess. Of course, I had my guesses, but they were incorrect.

Some moments, while reading, I was so excited I could barely go on. I was quite literally gasping and jumping and screaming. Every chapter I had to give Adam updates on what was happening because I couldn't be this story's only witness.

The highs were so high. And the ending so graceful and poignant, I almost feel like I should ignore the tragedy and consider it a happy ending. But there is still a sort of empty cavernous feeling. A sad ending I don't want to come to terms with or feel.

How could that be it? How can life be so punishing?

This may sound really ridiculous but last night (which we spent in btw because I was sick. For the 7th day in a row) we watched a documentary on the animals living in yellowstone. I'm used to these sort of natural dramas playing out but somehow last night, maybe on account of my precarious health, I was more sensitive to the life-and-death-goings-on. The Buffalo would wade through the snow with the big necks and thick fur and infinitesimally forlorn eyes and I wasn't prepared for the cruelty of its death. The unjust way in which we are all dealt lives without consideration of our circumstances. Some people smoke every day for decades unpunished while some who have never even experimented die a terrible death. Some people work even though they're ill to the point of crying in the bathroom while others are rewarded for no good reason at all.
That damn buffalo worked so hard and so tirelessly in the winter for his 30 lbs. Or whatever of grass needed a day without harming or hunting anyone. And when it grew too difficult, as a last resort, it ate the grass near the geyser's edge. Causing it to collapse from arsenic poisoning. It succumbs to the snow and dies to be picked apart by crows and bald eagles (which are scavengers by the way. They're practically vultures but don't tell any patriots that.)

The natural way and cycle of things, by definition it seems, is terrible and nasty and completely blind to our silly woes and struggles.

We are all helpless in our fight against fate. But not fate in the predestined spiritual way. Fate in the endless unchanging ebb and flow of time sort of way. Fate that none of us can escape: the helplessness against pure chance. The arbitrariness of occurrences.

This french novel that spent far too much time building up and too much effort into the pretentiousness of philosophy was about just this feelings that I combat, we all combat every day.

Chance, or luck, whichever you prefer to call it, brings to life a woman who had long resigned herself to her lack of it. She had never any fight and wasn't planning or hoping for any. But with the quickness that only pure coincidence could give, her life absolutely blossoms. And my heart, as the reader, bloomed camellias in time with hers. My insecurities and fears welled up with hers. Only to be absolutely deprived of all possibilities.

By a stroke of luck. Fate found her. And with the unforgiving nature of blind happenstance she is victim. No one cared that she should have been spared. Fate did not inquire whether this was an opportune time.

Terrible life. Cruel life.

Some people can give themselves up to this. They can surrender themselves to the universe. For work I go to these therapy seminar things all the time and everyone's always talking about it. Being content that the world will work it out. This is all a little to zen for me. Maybe I am not yet advanced enough in meditation or wisdom to really just let go. Terrible things are happening without rhyme or reason and for some reason I want to fight it. I want to battle each and everyone, keep tragedy at bay by snarling my teeth and demanding control. I cannot accept injustice yet we are prisoner to it every day.

Maybe, to me, this was a novel about the frustrations that arise from this. The toils of working and fighting and struggling against that which cannot be tamed, predicted, or controlled: the unstoppable hand of life.

2011-08-15T00:58:00.000-07:00

It has been a LONG time since I have been on blogger. Too long. This is evidenced in my complete surprise at their having re-done the entire blogger website. Way to throw me for a loop. And guilt trip me for having neglected my blog.

It's hard to go online and complain about the same old sort of things I've complained about for years now. I'm in the this strange spot between, "who really gives a fuck about my blog?!" and doing it only for myself and feeling over-exposed and unimportant and embarrassed and pressured by this need to make myself look better than I actually am. Maybe that's some sort of eternal bloggers dilemma..... unless you're a popular blogger. Then I guess you have a slightly different dilemma.

My life has been a lot of the same. A whole lot of realizations on top of realizations on top of plans to completely change my life and then giving up on those plans and then making new plans.

Overall, I feel like I'm headed in the right direction. I'm just not sure if I'm the exactly right path.

In other news, VACATION SOON!d

I need a whole lot of time away. 4 days will suffice for now.

What is the meaning of the individual in the face of the infinity?

2011-07-30T00:18:00.001-07:00

If there were another me, in another world, would I have anything to say?

Do I have any sort of advice or experience to speak of? Do I have the clarity and wisdom of distance? If there is another me with the same struggles and the same successes, what could there possibly be to say?

What is actually different?

Isn't it enough just to know?

Know that I am not alone?
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Fuck Fridays

2011-07-01T14:21:00.001-07:00

I get in these moods sometimes, and I'll simply call them moods to degrade them and to give myself more credit than I possibly deserve. I get in these moods and I can't lie and I speak in a flatter tone and I swear more often and I roll my eyes a lot. I grow passively more angry at the world to punish it for giving me less reason to love it.

It starts small. I'll use "fuck" more often. "This fucking cabinet." "My fucking shoes." "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Until suddenly, in my head, I'm launching into whole diatribes about the lack of significance of some completely mundane object. "I hate the fucking post-it's with a passion! Look at these stupid notes with their stupid colors. I DESPISE the neon fucking post-its!! Everything about them! The size! The height! The shade! I can't wait to finish them so I can get an entirely new set."

In these moods I can think of no other term than "maladjusted."

This is a bigger problem now that I work with counselors. I feel this pressure to be more self-aware and functional and happy and process everything in due course. When really I just want to have a bitch and complain session. I want to rant and rave about the government and the presidential candidates and religion and my lack of faith. I want to list the million small things wrong with my day: I lost an earring, my new shoes hurt, my mom's facebook got hacked and keeps showing porn, I've been craving sex for weeks but somehow, at the same time, haven't been able to muster the mood for it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm pretty much an adult now. And this is just my train of thought. I do my best to not express all of this, and while I'm not always 100% successful, I try really hard to not take it out on anyone.

But these moods? Sometime I worry they aren't just moods. Maybe it's just a character flaw. Or a way of life.
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Cities

2011-05-11T22:42:00.000-07:00

There are four places I've been that I have fell absolutely and completely in love with. That I will always love. That will always be deeply seated in my heart. And will make me ache just at the thought of them.

Paris
Madrid
Santiago
San Francisco

Call me typical. Call me silly. But sometimes you can't help but fall in love.

Comfort

2011-04-27T00:37:00.000-07:00

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Dreams Last Night

2011-04-23T14:08:00.000-07:00

I had a dream that we were putting on space suits and hazmat suits as disguises to sneak into my sister's work to see the President. We got into the elevator with Michelle and Barack Obama and all their secret service. But then my sister's boss was coming, we were worried she'd get in trouble and get fired. But he got into the elevator with two shaved-head lesbians.
We were pushing a big wooden boat (not a gondola) with a big stick when suddenly there was no more water for our boat to float on. We decided we could still float on over the grass, so we did. Standing in this boat, gliding through grass like water. When we came upon a cliff. There were bridges made from tied together cobblestones. A man urged us to get onto another large cobblestone so we could slide over the bridges. We were supposed to gain enough momentum on the downwards part of the hyperbolic bridge to push ourselves up the second half. We watched as the cobblestones swayed in the wind, dangerously daring us to play.
As part of a gameshow or possibly just an ordinary game, all sorts of couples were drinking. It was the night before our wedding and we were trying to win something extra for our wedding, like those weird game shows. Instead I ended up getting shit-faced down on the ground drunk drunk drunk. I kept telling everyone that I had a BAC of .14 which is almost twice the legal limit to drive. Our parents came to pick us up like kids, and loaded everyone up into mini-vans. Before getting in I covered my eyes and spun in a circle, my finger outstretched, insisting that I could guess which car I was supposed to get into. I opened my eyes, astoundingly I had picked the right one. Everyone cheered and clapped for me.

Norwegian Wood

2011-04-14T08:11:00.000-07:00

Officially one of my new favorite books.

It was sad and beautiful and absolutely captivating.

There was a light, airiness to it's sadness, a slow, gentle feeling that starts from the very bottom.

It felt like the real possibility of life.

I've read another of Murakami's books and I was relatively unimpressed. I didn't like the characters, wasn't drawn into the story, and I didn't buy the ideas.

I am SO glad I gave this writer another chance and read this book.

I've heard one of those dumb cliche-y quotes that you know its a good book because by the end, you feel like you've gained a new friend. For me, if I've really enjoyed a book, I find myself inconsolably sad that it's over. It's a wonderful experience that is done.

Sitting here in a cafe, with cheesy morning talk radio playing, and old people laughing over coffee in the background, I mourn the end of my book, and begrudge to start a new one. Begrudge stepping into a whole other world.
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Is there any other way to live?

2011-04-11T01:08:00.000-07:00

"If I relaxed my body now, I'd fall apart. I've always lived like this, and it's the only way I know how to go on living. If I relaxed for a second, I'd never find my way back. I'd go to pieces, and the pieces would be blown away. Why can't you see that?" -Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood
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2011-04-02T01:51:00.001-07:00

TODAY IS PENELOPE'S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!

Things I need to Tell Myself Over and Over

2011-03-27T23:39:00.000-07:00

No one can discourage me from the things that I want to do. My dreams are worthy of respect. No matter how difficult the path in front of me, it does not deserve to be downtrodden. I will not let other’s disbelief, sarcasm, or attitude put me down.

I am intelligent, capable, and unafraid. I know that I can accomplish what I set my mind to. I cannot let my own wariness stop me from putting my mind to something.

No one can discourage me from the things I want to do. Prying questions, disbelief, and misunderstanding will not stop me.

My success depends not on how much negative that there is to endure, but how much positive I’m willing to accept.

I am ready for my life to be exactly the way I want it to be. I am ready to put everything I am into being everything I can be.

There are qualities within me that are worthwhile. I can achieve things.

No one and nothing can demoralize me. Or dishearten me. Or dispirit me. Not anymore. And not ever again. Because it’s my life. It’s my success. And it’s my turn.

I will not close my eyes. But I will still soak in the sunlight.

2011-03-18T18:21:00.001-07:00

Have I told you lately...

That...

I hate life?

2011-03-03T15:55:00.001-08:00

Man, if I thought I couldn't dread Mondays anymore than I currently do, I was wrong.

Because at this moment, not only do I have one job to dread, I have two.

It isn't even Friday yet and I already begrudge Monday. fml.

2011-02-28T13:56:00.001-08:00

Flying the coop is a very scary thing.

The Legacy

2011-02-21T15:04:00.000-08:00

I don't know if you know this because I've never really told anyone:

But the things you did affect us all.

Even I, so distant and far from you, find myself thinking of you on simple, normal days. Almost missing you.

I think the part that shocked me most, is that I was affected. Secretly, in something deeper in me than I can put into words, even almost a year later, I still don't know what it is. I always tell myself that it's just a part of life, to be expected. And if the person wasn't your pillar you shouldn't be allowed to break down. I tell myself that people grieve over their lost chance of putting something off. Over regret for not having lived the way they still had time to live. I try to be super zen about the whole thing. Super blase. But something indescribable in me twisted and turned and changed.

Some choices are final, even when the whole world would stop and hold their breathe and wish if they knew it could change that. It cannot change. But if it could, I wish you would know the way the world would shift without you, its axis offset.

Maybe the part of me that reacts, is the part that yearns and aches for it. For that same release. That morbid, fatalistic, and quitting part of me. Is it jealousy? Is it anger at a decision I cannot make? Or is it the glaring realization that life affects more than just one person. More than just walls you support. More than your closest inner circle. Maybe each time it happens, it's a lesson I'm learning on how to life. How to properly live. How I need to survive. How we all need to survive. It's a reminder that morbidity and fatalism and quitting are hard to live through, but we cannot have a choice.

There is a legacy that I see that changes the lives all around me. A girl that was once just a girl becomes referenced by the life and the love that she has lost. A boy that was just a boy has a subtitle of the ones who left him behind.

I am one of the free, this I know. I can keep myself far, I can swallow it down. I am distant, after all. But this what I'm thinking about day in and day out: The way you welcomed me with open arms, the way I secretly hoped you'd become my close friend, how I stumble on you sometimes on facebook or twitter.

Developing

2011-02-17T10:30:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been noticing a sweet sort of ache when I look at the things around me. I've felt like I'm somehow forgetting or not doing something. At first it was small, barely noticeable. Just something that twinged slightly when the sky was particularly beautiful or when the weather was warm.

And then today it hit me, even though the weather is terrible and everything is ugly wet. I miss photography.

I didn't think I would. And I've been on a sort of mini-hiatus. Not that long, maybe... a handful of months?

But I do nonetheless.

It's almost comforting.

Comforting to know that I was right. It is a part of me.

2011-02-15T13:13:00.000-08:00

I am literally hours away from putting on and wearing a Vera Wang.

How will I EVER consider any other dresses?!

Cereal.

2011-02-14T11:44:00.000-08:00

Of the many internet time waster's I go to where I vainly talk about my life incessantly as if it were important, this is my home. My internet home.

And so I thought it should be the first to know.

TOMORROW I'M GOING WEDDING DRESS SHOPPING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

(I wish I could draw hearts on EVERYTHING)

A Valentine

2011-02-02T11:24:00.000-08:00

Valentines day is coming up...

I know a lot of people out there are anti-Valentines or bitter about it. I don't see why. If you want to complain that it's a consumer hallmark made holiday, then celebrate it some other way. Make a gift, give a kiss, do something special.

I don't personally like flowers, chocolates, lingerie, or a variety of other typical Valentines day stuff. But I figure, why not take every excuse we can get to celebrate love? Some made up saint guy? Good enough excuse for me. Seventh monday in a row I've been to work on time? Good enough excuse for me. Our half-versary plus a month? Good enough excuse for me. Find excuses often and celebrate love. Why not?

I used to make little valentines, usually edible for all the ladies in my life, even ones I didn't really like so as not to leave anyone out. Little boxes of candy, tiny cakes, cookies, cupcakes, all red and decorated and absolutely cute. Last year I skipped out on it and felt kind of bad. I rolled into the day empty handed. What a bummer.

This year for V-Day I'm taking Adam out to a dinner surprise. I also wanted to make him a small gift. But given that we live with each other and other than work are with each other every minute (waking or otherwise), it's hard to find the time to make something without him already knowing. But I don't care. I'm excited anyways.

Who doesn't love quality time?

2011-01-27T00:03:00.001-08:00

Sometimes I have a really hard time talking about what's on my mind. This problem is neither new or original or special.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have this problem.

Friday

2011-01-21T13:54:00.001-08:00

If I read beneath my desk all I have to do is lean forward a little more to hide it.
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Hope

2011-01-19T16:45:00.000-08:00

Hope is a funny thing.

We can build these edifices so high from absolutely nothing. We're given this small glimpse of light and our hearts go crazy with it. We imagine the way it must look from heaven. We count our chickens. We tell ourselves, "this is the beginning of the rest of our lives." And from what? All from a glimpse.

But isn't that what Hope is? Isn't Hope the dream and plan and idea that we can attain heaven? That it's possible? That one step by one step we can get there?

So many times in my life I've been dealt a hand that I hardly even wanted and barely even liked. I've done things that were only satisfactory, "doing it to waste my time" sort of things. And even though they were just that, for some reason, my heart still hoped. For some reason, even though I didn't want that shitty path or I told myself I didn't care, I still hoped.

I hoped that it was meaningful, that it was a baby step in the right direction, that it was the first day of the rest of my changed life.

But because it's hope and it's only based on clues and glances and empty clouds of imagination, it means nothing. And it helps nothing. And I'm not where I want to be. And hope may have feathers or wings but only so that it can fly away at a moments notice.

Leaving you alone and destitute and distraught and desolate.

Leaving me back at the beginning, at square one, with nothing but more work ahead of me.

Hope is a funny thing. Hilarious, in fact.

How does your garden grow?

2011-01-17T13:13:00.000-08:00

After a few neighbor run-in's we're finally settling into our new place. Most of the boxes are unpacked, we have most of our things up and organized, and I've found good places to take the dog for a walk. It's exciting and I'm.... happier. The month is ending, and while it was a little tumultuous and I can't say I'm happy-happy, I am happier. And that's a good thing.

But, right now, what I'm most excited about is creating a GARDEN!

As we all know, I like to grow plants, and I've had plenty of indoor house plants from seed, and I'm not too bad of a gardener. BUT, I'm also a terrible gardener. Haha. I lose patience and get bored from a lack of progress, I get tired of the lack of immediate satisfaction, and I'm known for giving up on aforementioned house plants after a handful of months.

But this time I'm working bigger scale. Hopefully that'll help with keeping me focused.

Either way, I expect it'll be a steep learning curve and a very long process.

Wish me luck?

"That's what I say"

2011-01-03T15:01:00.000-08:00

Javier Jaen

Good Job

2011-01-02T11:31:00.000-08:00

way to start the new year off right.

Two thousand Ten

2010-12-31T11:45:00.000-08:00

I was trying to think up a list of the things that have happened this year. The things that I've changed, that have changed around me.

I kept coming up blank.

And then I realized 2010 was a year where I was working on and focusing on stability. Some days I felt stuck in my stability and some days I felt safe in it.

In 2010 we didn't move. I didn't fall in love with anyone new. My heart wasn't broken. Our wedding wasn't planned. I had a couple nieces born but nothing that directly involves me.

I think a lot of people were sick this year. One person close to us died. There was emergency and crisis everywhere we went. Maybe that's why our life was studied calm and sameness. Maybe it was all we could do to keep it together.

But now, sitting here, nothing sticks out as a terribly trying year. We went on a couple mini vacations to wedding location scout. We went to Seattle for a weekend. We went to three different cities in Spain in just over a week. I got more colds and flus and food poisonings than I think I've ever gotten in years past. I blame it on old age. I got into petty neighbor squabbles.

I did dance classes, photography classes, considered (but couldn't afford) cello classes. I went and mastered and conquered the dog park. Speaking of dogs, Penelope got hit by a car, that was a load of fun.

I carried through on last year's resolution to develop more hobbies and to find what it is that I want to do. I'm leaving 2010 with a goal to begin the new year actively pursuing and accomplishing it.

SO! To prepare for 2011 here's what I've done:

Got a fancy new haircut. It looks pretty good.
Am working a new volunteer job (as well as my normal job) that I'm almost 90% sure will turn into some sort of paid job offer soon.
We're moving out, our first day in the new place is around the 1st. Stay tuned for pictures
My entire desk is clean
My calendar is ready
My life is organized.
I'm ready to go.

I hope everyone has a safe, fun, and happy new year's eve!

Resolve

2010-12-28T12:49:00.000-08:00

So, I've been thinking about New Year's Resolutions lately. I don't know if you know, but I'm a big believer in a good, solid NYR. I feel like people definitely shouldn't make them if they aren't ready to commit to it and I definitely think that a half-kept NYR is still a kept one.

If one resolves to exercise more and can get themselves to do it for 6 months, then that's 6 months improvement, and that much closer to having a better life or being a better person or being closer to happiness. I don't think a person should be completely unrealistic and expect to do something EVERY day for the rest of their lives.

Either way, it's hard for me to really get down to what it is I really want to do this year. My life is in such flux right now. Everything is changing, everything is sort of up in the air. How do you decide what needs to be changed when things are already changing? Maybe my resolution will be to keep changing.

For the most part, here it is:

Continue changes for a happier, better life. (pretty standard)
Finish crocheting my scarf.
Become a more diligent, organized worker.
Actually start planning our wedding (eventually).

But more importantly, year goals:

Have a new, better job that I either enjoy more, or get paid more for. Preferably both.
Be completely ready and applied to schools.

I'm a pretty simple person. I don't need anything completely unusual to be happy. I have Adam, I have Penelope, I have a multitude of family and friends. All I really need is a steady goal and a stable way to get there.

Here's to hoping that 2011 is exponentially better than 2010.

It's official!!

2010-12-27T14:48:00.000-08:00

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On The Move Again...

2010-12-26T17:51:00.000-08:00

These boxes have survived multiple moves in as many years.

Looking forward to a new year where all the changes will be for the better.
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The Heart of the Matter

2010-12-08T11:58:00.000-08:00

OK, so here's the thing:

I'm afraid that the things I'm doing aren't worthwhile things.

I'm afraid that I have no direction in life and nothing makes me happy and nothing ever will.

I'm afraid that I'll never find anything that I am jointly good at, enjoy, and don't mind doing long term.

I'm afraid I'll never find a suitable career to commit to and I'm afraid that just for the sake of commitment I'll stay doing things I hate, that I am not good at, and that make me depressed.

I'm afraid that I'm lost and I won't ever find my way.

I'm afraid that I'm too afraid and don't know how to have confidence in my own decisions and so I'll be stuck like this forever.

That's the thing.

Chronicles

2010-12-07T21:48:00.000-08:00

I was on a sort of Christmas Spirit high from Thanksgiving and only now is it starting to dwindle away...

The euphoria from shopping has faded, the feeling of accomplishment of getting my list taken care of is anti-climatic.

We got out tree, put up lights, and I'm suddenly surprised it's just more of the usual. Work sucks, weather sucks.

I'm either covered in medication resistant hives or bug bites. Either one is no good.

A month left of the year, and what has really happened? Has my life really changed? Have I grown and become something better?

Ughk to these feelings.

Monday

2010-12-06T19:10:00.001-08:00

For tonight's dinner? Stir fry beef and veggies over rice! (this should have been a tweet :( haha )

Really?

2010-12-03T23:31:00.001-08:00

Ok, so I know I have subscriptions to 5 different magazines, yet this somehow still surpised me.

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The Coming Plauge

2010-12-01T22:43:00.000-08:00

Things I Don't like:

open toe shoes
That achey sick feeling
menstruation
dingleberries (on my dog, not me)
Sad love stories without happy endings
silk
back aches
trying to think of things I want for xmas
Being angry with people
the inability to cut people I don't like out of my life (hello family.)
cranky neighbors
Needing a brake job

Things I DO like:

The Christmas spirit
The new month a coming
Reading about new tropical diseases
Magazine subscriptions (5 this year!)
Musicals
Favorite musicals
wrapping gifts
dancing
singing even though I suck at it
the spelling of break over brake
word games
Comfortable shoes
My new phone
My little sister having a phone

None of this was relevant to anything important or interesting.

Ah, the downfall of the internet

Pockets Full of Good Intentions

2010-11-15T00:12:00.000-08:00

I don't consider myself a very pessimistic person, although I'm sure that's a highly contestable observation. I know I can be a bit negative in regards to my own abilities, prospects, and circumstances but I feel like when it comes to my views of others, I always expect the best.

It's one of my fatal flaws.

To be really corny, unoriginal, a little stupid, and very "high school" let me quote The Carpenters (I'm on a Carpenters kick right now, you'll have to bear with me through it):

"I know I ask perfection or a quite imperfect world. / And fool enough to think that's what I'll find."

But then I look at some of my adopted life policies, and maybe I'm not so optimistic as I think I am.

Here are some of them, try not to judge me too harshly.

The good guy always comes out last. Better worded: Morals do nothing but hold you back from the same successes as those who have none. (or less than you have.)
Every thing is luck: children dying, winning the lottery, even finding the love of your life. There are few things that I feel like people really have control of. It's just a matter of luck and patience.
The best thing you can have is blindness, deafness, and a heavy-heavy veil to gaurd yourself from your own stupidity. Just as moral-less get ahead, so do the stupid. It's one of the sad, cruel facts of life.
Boys are half idiots. This is relatively unrelated, but I just had to throw it in there. Girls are pretty much over all better.

Maybe I'll blog more often or better in the future. But don't hold you breathe.

Also! Book club blog has FINALLY been started! It'll be a slow going process but we've been a semi-official "club" for almost a year. We've plowed through 4 or 5 books, and we're excited to start documenting it. Stay tuned, my few readers.

2010-11-08T10:59:00.000-08:00

This morning was the kind of morning I love:

The sun is out and bright. The air is fresh. It's a little cold but it's the crisp, refreshing kind.

My semi-boring life:

2010-11-07T17:53:00.000-08:00

Things I've done today:

Luxuriated in the extra hour of daylight savings.
Brushed almost an entire puppy's worth of hair off the dog.
Eaten more than my fair share of Reese's Pieces
Bought 3 cd's and a Carpenter's record (Can I help but love them!?)
Walked in the rain.
Driven across the bay bridge and back for absolutely nothing.
Had a family lunch.
Told at least a handful of lies about my health.
Avoided visiting relatives in the hospital. (It's nothing serious, so I don't feel OBLIGATED)
Acted as an art model
Fed the dog Reese's Pieces and laughed at her.

And now we're considering selling some video games to buy this dumb Pokemon game I want. haha.

Any suggestions for dinner?

Thursday Morning

2010-10-28T12:11:00.000-07:00

This morning I was walking the dog and I realized a small rock had gotten into my shoe. With each step I felt it, I knew it was there, but I kept walking. We walked to the end of the block, crossed the street, and down the next block.

The rock hurt, but just a little. I kept walking. Once I stopped and tried to get it out of my shoe but the dog wanted to keep going forward and I had nothing to lean on. So it stayed.

But this entire 10 or 15 minutes I was walking with this stupid rock in my shoe. I was completely aware of it, it caused me discomfort, and yet I continued going.

I got home, took my shoes off, took a shower, went on with the rest of my day.

And now, almost 3 hours later, that exact spot where the rock was, my foot hurts. It hurts more than when the rock was actually there. Even though the rock is gone, all morning, it's felt as if it were still there.

Lately it feels like

2010-10-27T00:46:00.000-07:00

Every morning I'm waking up on the wrong side.
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24

2010-10-23T21:39:00.000-07:00

Birthday Loot:

And some odds and ends: a keychain, a card, an orchid. Dinner with the family. A gift certificate.

It was a good year for gifts.

Seriously.

2010-10-20T13:45:00.000-07:00

Is it bad that today I feel like the only thing thats keeping me alive is the prospect of gifts at the end of the week?

Better to have a stupid materialistic excuse to be alive than be dead, I guess.

I'll Cheers to that.

Nights

2010-10-20T12:43:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to share that:

I have really crazy dreams. You all know that, I'm sure.
A recurrent image/scene in my dreams is running through fields and fields of different colored flowers that are separated by fences of barbed wire and other fencing stuff. I'm always running away from something, being chased and I have to get through the fields and find somewhere to hide. It's a breathtakingly beautiful scene, all of these flowers and fences. But I'm running through them and jumping over fences. I wonder if it's a sign or a metaphor for something I don't understand quite yet.
Lately there has been someone in my dream, and I'm not sure if this is from a movie or a TV show or a book that has seeped into my dreams (I hope it's from something else and I just don't remember what instead of it just being part of my dream-imagination). But there's someone in my dream that's trying to give me a pep talk. And he's saying, "Do jets fly in the rain?" or "Do jets fly when they're sad?" or "Do jets fly through all sorts of storms?!" Thinking of really ridiculous circumstances that a jet might face. In my dream I give an exasperated yes, or I say I don't know depending on the dream. And this person yells, "HELL YEAH JETS FLY THROUGH THE RAIN!!!!" (or whatever challenge the jet was supposed to have faced.) The point is, Jets do all these crazy things so I need to man up and do whatever needs to get done. This one's meaning is a little less mercurial but much more strange in the landscape of things that happen in my dreams. Where the hell did I get this from? Or how did I think of it? Or what does it really matter? Do jets fly through the rain? I don't know.
Last night I dreamnt (dreamnt isn't a word, but it is to me.) about a house that was in construction and like an obstacle course. I kept hitting my head on staircases that were too small to ascend and very poorly placed.

2010-10-13T11:14:00.000-07:00

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Emerald City! (View from our hotel room)

2010-10-09T00:19:00.001-07:00

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Spinning

2010-10-08T14:06:00.000-07:00

When I was 7 in our ballet class we learned something called “spotting.”

All the ballerinas did it, you pick a spot, any spot that will remain your constant. You can’t let go of your spot or else the spinning will catch up with you.

We’d start at one corner of the room, one foot turned out, the other pointed. One arm in second position, the other in first.

You pick your spot and as you turn your body, you keep looking until the very last moment, when you can’t possibly look any longer, and you whip your head around, re-orienting yourself on the same spot.

We did it slowly at first, gaining in speed. We’d do pique turns or pirouettes across the room. We’d do them in the center, on pointe or demi-pointe. Singles, doubles, some of us even tried triples.

The teacher’s voice would ring in the air, “Spot, Sydney! Spot!”

Everyone else could seem to do it. They could keep focused, they could re-orient themselves, they could go turn after turn towards that same spot, never dizzying, never falling, never letting on that the entire world was whirling around us.

They could go faster and faster. Turns and more turns.

I’d pick my spot and somehow I couldn’t get my head to turn at just the right moment. Was I doing it wrong? Was this something I would just learn better over time? Was this something I just couldn’t do?

All the other girls twirled and twirled.

and I did nothing but hit the floor.

I couldn’t stop the world from catching up with me…

The Steps

2010-10-05T11:11:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to get my life back on track. I'm ready and raring to go.

A while ago, after I first graduated and as an attempt to soothe my unemployed soul I told myself that I needed to find some sort of meaning or worth in not having a goal.

Because I've always been such a goal-oriented, hard on myself, nothing is good enough, with the blinders on kind of person I was often left with that empty disillusionment of having attained a goal. That feeling of, "I got here... But now what?" I felt like I had to somehow discover something about myself beyond that. Beyond the goal.

I've struggled all of these months to find something, anything different. To make me feel like I had "found myself."

I'm considering it an experiment failed.

I spent more days than not absolutely miserable. Lost and meaningless. Empty.

And, maybe I'm slow to the punch but, I'm just now realizing that maybe I need that goal. I need something immediate and accessible and higher and bigger and better to work towards. And if I get there and I find myself here again, at least I've gone a little further, traveled a little more, grown. Maybe I'm just the kind of person that, other than the things I'm directly working towards, I have no meaning. Maybe that's ok. (I'm hoping it will be.)

The second I began to seriously consider myself a contender in the competition was the second I started to feel better about myself.

I'm going to stumble a lot along the way, second guess myself, and maybe even consider quitting. I'll think it's not for me and I made the wrongs decisions. Maybe I am. But this is better than nothing. I feel this need to break this old shell, push myself harder and harder, to stop telling myself it's not wrong to expect only the best from the things that I do. I'm ready to evolve.

The only downfall is that it's going to be a very long process. I'm currently formulating what's practically a 5 year plan. That's a long time. I always wish that things could happen faster than they do. I want full control of everything and take it all, do it all, overwhelm myself, and accomplish things quicker. But I have to accept that some things are slower processes, some things will take time, just to have a goal far off doesn't set me back.

I'm getting my life back together and goddamn it feels good.

Things I'm No Good At:

2010-09-28T12:13:00.000-07:00

Being patient
Sound financial planning
Maintaining a clean apartment
Pretending like I'm not crazy about my own birthday like a vain, self-absorbed child
Figuring out what to get other people for their birthdays
and getting through a full work week without some sort of physical malady.

A Rose By Any Other Name

2010-09-25T11:25:00.000-07:00

I don't know when everyone got the habit of calling my by my first and last name. Everyone does it, people from high school, best friends, even my sister. My sister has the same last name, by the way. I don't know when it started, not that I'm really intent on stopping it or anything.

I blame it on having a relatively short name. It may not seem short at first, but I think it's sounds best to have a 2.5 syllable name or a just a full out 3 syllable name. Do you have a 2 syllable name? I bet one syllable is slightly slow, a lazy eye of sorts. Saaaaa-rah, maaaa-ry, jeeen-ny. 2.5. Em-i-ly, An-dre-a, Cath-er-ine. 3. It's natural.

I have a very short, curt 2. Syd-ney. Ok, so maybe you could make the second syllable a little slow, Syd-neeeey. But either way, call me by last name, they do.

I've grow somewhat affectionate of it, as a term, even if, at first glance, it's slightly overly formal.

And, believe it or not, I've just this instant done research for my blog here. First time ever, sort of thing. Ever since being a kid, we do those stupid like, geneology projects where you make a family tree, get some things about your culture to bring to school.

And to completely digress, I've always hated those projects. I can't tell you how many filipino flags I had to draw. Or how bored I got of not knowing ANY of my great-grandparents names. I feel like those projects are just for yuppie overly american white people. Or I guess, it could work for any sort of overly american person. But the kind of person those projects are for are the ones with over-zealous grandparents that keep track of the family tree and do research in books to hunt it all the way down to royalty like 3 centuries ago in england or ireland or germany. I can trace my family reliably back to my grandparents and that's only to half my grandparents. Projects like that are for braggarts with something more than personal history. But ANYWAYS, my bitterness aside.

Those stupid projects always made you look up the meaning of your first name. I have pretty much the lamest name meaning in all of creation. (Or so I thought before doing my handy dandy research). Normal people have name meanings like, "Wind over mountains" or "beautiful princess" or "Master of all things wonderful." Mine? Mine means, "of Saint Dennis." I usually left it at that. I thought, "Lame I think I'm named after Dennis..." Dennis isn't exactly a name to brag about.

BUT! And here comes the research! I just Wikipedia-ed Saint Dennis, thinking, hey why not get to the bottom of this name meaning business.

And according to wikipedia Saint Dennis was some sort of Catholic martyr that was patron of Paris that had his head chopped off.

Now! That sounds pretty damn cool to me! Because:

Head chopped off? Total points.
My sister and I always joke about what we were "in a past life" not that we sincerely believe in junk like that. Our theory is that she was a slave or somehow enslaved, to truly get it you have to really know her. And we joke that I must have been some sort of martyr. It's probably an insult, but it kind of makes sense. Although, I always assumed it must have been some sort of Muslim Martyr given that when I learned about various religions on the basis of book like stuff alone (not it's actual practice) I was attracted more to that than the various religions I've learned about. But hey, just like all christians are jews, all muslims are christian. So who knows, I could have been martyred for pretty much anything.
And, Paris? Hell yeah.

Anyways, the reason I started all of this name business was to consider my "nickname." I've always wanted a real nickname. I even tried to give myself one, which I'm pretty sure is like the trademark of a total loser, but whatever, I've wanted a nickname. Never had one. And only jus now realized, maybe my full name is used like a nickname.

End of pointless rant right here.

BFF

2010-09-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

It's a little known fact outside of my small personal circle that one of my best friends is my little sister. It sounds a little corny, but it's true.

And because I've always had a good older sister I always hated, growing up, seeing my friends be bad older sisters to their younger sisters.

I admit that Em and I went through a period of not being very close, but I blame it on my selfish, semi-rebellious, and self-absorbed teen years and her inaccessibility given that she was a baby and hadn't yet mastered the English language.

But once we snapped out of that, we've done everything from museum/zoo trips, to pen pals when I lived away from home, MISadventures, and you're general hanging out.

I'm not very good with kids and I don't think I ever will be. And I don't think we click the same way she can click with other semi-adults. Like my cousin who loves kids and kids love her. But we both try, and I think that's the most important part.

As an older sister, I feel like it's my responsibility to show her how to be responsible and to make the right decisions all while making sure she doesn't feel lonely, or too much like a kid, or put down on.

I keep a running list of things I should slip into conversation with.

Actually written down on a post-it as of a couple days ago and staring at me in the face currently:

Independent Thinking
Personal Development
And, a Woman's position as an independent.

When's the last time you were challenged to actually think about these things and iterate relatively complete and coherent thoughts on it? It's harder said than done and much harding to casually slip into conversations without sounding too preachy.

But it's important.

This Night

2010-09-22T20:47:00.000-07:00

Sometimes my life is rolling ball of shit. I'm stressed, I'm depressed, I'm hopeless and downtrodden. I often feel like my very soul is crushed.

And then I remember that's just my work life and things exist outside of it.

I go home and I remember that some moments are absolutely perfect. Incandescent.

Making dinner together, dancing, laughing, the dog looking at us like we're crazy. I don't need anything else. Delicious love.

I don't need any more friends, I don't need to worry about what bank records need what, or even what's going to happen tomorrow.

I just need to breathe and be happy.

Lost day

2010-09-13T23:27:00.000-07:00

It's strange how a crisis can make you completely re-evaluate the meanings of things in your life.

I'm torn between this instinctive urge to protect myself and ensure I'm not vulnerable and.....

Being alone in my protection.

Night Fight

2010-09-13T17:21:00.001-07:00

I know I never post about anything interesting other than my dreams, and I’ve been trying to get back to posting more (for my like 2 or 3 readers). I’ll get around to it eventually. In the mean time:

Last night I had a very vivid dream.

I was in my parked car looking for something when an old man approached, then an old lady on the other side of the car.

In my dream what was Adam and my Sister, yelled at me to be careful because I was surrounded. I was suddenly aware they were about to steal my car. I began to scream at them when a young man ran by very quickly and grabbed my car keys from my hand.

I took off after him screaming for help because this man was trying to carjack me. We ran through seated picnic crowds at a park (as if they were watching a show) and trees and pathways.

Finally I was able to grab him and pull him to the floor. I jumped on top of him, straddling him, pummeling him with my fists.

He was trying to protect his head and face from me but I was screaming and uncontrollably hitting him. I looked down to realize I was wearing boxing gloves and they were softening the blows. I ripped them off with my teeth and hit him harder and harder with my bare fists.

It was so real I could feel my hands ache; I could see his face contort with each of my blows. I could smell the grass and feel the anger boiling inside of me like poison.

I scream for the police but the only people that come are the old man and woman that tried to take my car previously. I look at the thief and realize that I have my car and he’s a helpless lump of bloody flesh that I just kicked the shit out of. I decide to walk away.

I woke up in a terrible mood. The violence and vividness scared me. I felt sick with anger still. I slept in another half hour and was late for work.

But what does it all mean?

Well according to my dream dictionary the following are the meanings to the main symbols of my dream:

To dream that you are in a fight indicates inner turmoil. Some aspect of yourself is in conflict with another aspect of yourself. Perhaps an unresolved or unacknowledged part is fighting for its right to be heard. It may also parallel a fight or struggle that you are going through in your waking life.

To dream that you are a witness to a theft or a victim of theft, indicates that someone is wasting your time and/or stealing your energy and ideas. Perhaps you feel robbed in some way.

To dream that you have been carjacked, suggests that you have lost your direction in life. You feel that circumstances in your life have lead you on a different course.

To see a parked car in your dream, suggests that you need to turn your efforts and energies elsewhere. You may be needlessly spending your energy in a fruitless endeavor. Alternatively, a parked car may symbolize your need to stop and enjoy life.

To see boxing gloves in your dream represents a difficult or even violent situation in which you are trying your best to succeed or overcome.

Take all of that to mean what you will.

If you have any other ideas or ways to mash all of that together into something cohesive that I can take as life advice, feel free to comment. Otherwise, back to my regularly scheduled programming of work, avoidance of work, and trying to live like a decent human being.

Buildings in the Sun

2010-09-07T17:32:00.000-07:00

Lately I’ve been pretty stressed out at work. I feel like I have so much to do and so much pent up energy set on getting it done, yet somehow I can’t focus, I can’t focus on actually getting anything done. So the work piles up and I’m sitting in my chair, my body unable to keep still for even just a moment without a tremendous amount of effort. I get more and more worked up each day. I let myself down more and more each day.

And it’s no secret that I absolutely hate the city where I work. It’s nothing but fog and dreariness and ugliness and just your general soul-crushing mediocre completely uninspiring kind of place.

And not that I know the whole city well, but I usually get stuck in the same circles: to the bank, back from the bank, to the post office, back from the post office, to the office supply store, back from the office supply store, to Starbucks, to lunch spots, (to the hospital), and back again. It really doesn’t help with all that ugly soul crushing feelings. But I’ve worn these paths down and there’s little wilderness left.

But sometimes I’ll be sent somewhere absolutely new.

For instance last week, I went to get lunch from somewhere I’ve never been before. It was a lot of the same thing: slummy looking, fog covered, grime, and some people waiting for a bus. I double parked, ran in, paid, arranged the three bags to prevent spillage, and headed back. And somehow, on the hillside I would consider totally familiar, with the sun shining just so, I saw a relatively pretty building that I hadn’t ever seen before. It was modern-ish and had a different look than the buildings that are usually here. It wasn’t some GEM of architectural masterpiece but it was different and it was new. With the way the sun was shining it was almost pretty.

Which I’m going to take as a lesson in perspective.

It’s something I have trouble keeping sometimes.

2010-08-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

I know I always start my blogs as if what I'm about to say is a new realization or sudden understanding or a secret that I'm letting you in on.

But hey, it's a blog. Isn't everything on a blog going to be an admission of some sort.

Anyways,

I'm going to admit something that is probably obvious to most of you.

I'm really, kind of lost.

I don't know what I'm doing with my life. I don't know "who I am." I wasn't lucky like everyone else, because yeah, it's a lot of luck, to find and stumble on what should be my "niche."

Everything I've done so far, I've loved in it's own way. I don't regret the path I took at school because it taught me so much more about the world around me than could have been learned focusing only on physics or english or something like that. I went into my bachelor's-dom with the attitude of wanting to learn more about the world around me, wanting to understand more about the world around me, cause I've seen so many that are just so blind. I didn't want to be ignorant in such a wide, wide world. I don't regret that. I feel completely successful in that.

But then I apply it to my life and all the lessons I learned didn't teach me who I am.

But what all this was about, which I detracted from, because I always digress, is that I have a love hate relationship with all those "inspiring" picture message things. They're super in right now (in on the internet, of course). They're vauge and pretty, whimsical or super close up kinds of pictures and the internet has added in little messages that either dissappear into the sky or fade into the picture or match the tone that say stuff like, "We are only young once," or "Wanting to be something you're not is a waste of what you are," stuff like that. I love them because they appeal to my indie-semi-immature-interest in the pretty-whimsical- magical feeling inducing sort of aesthetic.

I hate them because it's too late to defend what I've already lost. I can't embrace who I am if I never had it to begin with.

(I know, what a whine-fest. Can you hear the violins?)

Crazy Hair Thursday

2010-08-19T10:38:00.000-07:00

I have a long list of bad habits that I'm constantly aware of that I have. Sometimes I'm attacked by a crippling self-hatred. I figure it's just part of life sometimes.

If I could magically turn into someone else, I feel bad to say it, but,

I would in a heartbeat.

I admit it

2010-08-08T00:14:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I can only look at one thing at a time...

Happy Birthday Barack Obama!

2010-08-04T15:55:00.000-07:00

I got this present for you, but decided you probably didn't want it and I'll do you the favor of holding onto it for you.

Penelope

2010-08-04T01:45:00.000-07:00

This might sound a little silly but there are quite sincerely few things I love more than my dog.

It's 1:45 am on a wednesday (morning. Tuesday night, really) watching her sleep and my heart just swells.

I definitely don't think that everyone that loves their dog loves their dog as much as I love mine. I wouldn't even take a million dollars to trade her.

She's my real life pokemon.

Stuck

2010-08-02T11:48:00.000-07:00

This will come as no surprise but, I feel as if I live and am sometimes stuck in a crazy dream world.

Every night, often times 2 or 3 times a night, I have long, intense, vivid dreams. Almost all details are clear and nothing makes sense.

I usually wake up feeling drained, tired, anxious, or even afraid. Sorry for what's gone on or angry.

My dreams too often translate to real life. Where I'm walking as if in some sort of haze and the only thing I can think about are the impossible happenings of my sleep.

I have dark circles under my eyes and all of my rest isn't restful.

Last night I had a dream that all my older siblings were tiny little kids (the way I see them in really old pictures) being beaten by my father (keeping in mind that my dad has never even been close to abusive in any way) and I was the only adult, begging and crying to try and save them and stop him from beating them. I had another dream that I was trying to sew this scary scarecrow while a teacher yelled in the background and somehow, the fate of my family depending on the completion of it.

The other day I had a dream that I was stabbing a man to death with a reed like big piece of grass after accidentally killing a man with icicles.

I either need to stop watching crime shows, stop reading the news, stop taking my hive meds, or just take a chill pill.

It's bubbles under the sea....

2010-07-23T11:50:00.000-07:00

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Living in a Dream World

2010-07-20T13:58:00.000-07:00

Since I am a person of constant vivid dreams I'm always searching for some sort of meaning or understanding of them in my waking life. Often, if the emotions are strong enough I won't be able to shake them for days.

My dream less strong emotion and more really strong images. So I figured I'd show everyone what google-ed dream dictionaries show my dreams to mean.

It began with a table where everyone was sitting. Everyone was drawing based on the same image. We shared what we had done and everyone had used the image simply as a backboard to spring off of. I'm the only one that copied it exactly. I had drawn in great detail (with talent that surpasses my real life drawing talent) a grand cathedral and it's stained glass windows.

Dictionary meaning:

To see the outside of the church in your dream, signifies sacredness and spiritual nourishment. It is representative of your value system and the things you hold sacred.

To dream that you are drawing, represents an expression of your latent artistic abilities. You need to show more of your creativity in your waking life.

So... It means... that... sacredness and spiritual nourishment, my value system... is tied with my latent creative and artistic skills? And I need to be more creative in my waking life in ordinance with... what I hold sacred?

And then in my dream, my teachers are there. Specifically one of my middle school teachers. Social studies, to be even more exact. And they're all talking about a potential they knew they saw in my and how I was always a straight A student. I embarrassingly correct them that I was never a straight A student. My freshman year of high school I got straight A's and and it was a straight descent from there, I tell them. I jokingly talk about how I just barely passed public school. My teacher leers at me, wags his eyebrows, and implies that I got a B in his class so one day we could sleep together. Surprised, I begin to walk away. Seriously contemplating it.

(Dictionary Meaning) To see your teacher (past or present) in your dream, suggests that you are seeking some advice, guidance, or knowledge. You are heading into a new path in life and are ready to learn by example or from a past experience. Consider your own personal experiences with that particular teacher. What subject was taught? Alternatively, a teacher relates to issues with authority and seeking approval. You may be going through a situation in your waking life where you feel that you are being treated like a student or in which you feel you are being put to a test.

So, as I walk away I'm joined by Andrea (second red head in my dream tonight) telling her about seeing my teacher and what he said, considering if I owe it to him to have sex or not. We're discussing the pros and cons as we walk downhill of a country road. We come into a clearing, to a place she wanted to show me. This is the strongest part of my dream. The grass is green and the sky a bright blue. The air is clear. There's a herd of wild horses in the clearing and for some reason they're all fighting. Rearing up no two legs to smash their teeth together and to kick with their front legs. We watch in awe and fear as dozens of pairs and trios war in the distance. I want to leave because I feel the danger of so many wild creatures filled with anger. I start to slowly walk away, hoping they don't see me as they run by, now fighting very close and on either side of me. As their chasing each other they almost run into me and I'm filled with much more fear than before. A baby horse approaches and as it's about to rear up and onto me I slap it's nose with my hand, as if it were a dog being punished. It shocks it, shakes it's head and turns to go away. But it's mother is right behind it and after it's seen me hit the baby it's a thousand times angry. It's up on it's two hind legs and I see the red anger in it's eyes. Her hair black hair is flying in the wind. I look at her towering over me. I know I'll die.

Instead, I awake.

(Dictionary meanings) To see a horse in your dream, symbolizes strength, power, endurance, virility and sexual prowess. It also represents a strong, physical energy. You need to tame the wild forces within.

To see a herd of wild horses in your dream, signifies a sense of freedom and lack of responsibilities and duties. Perhaps it may also indicate your uncontrolled emotions. If you are riding a wild horse, then it represents unrestrained sexual desires.

What does it mean to be attacked by horses?

So all in one dream: sacredness, lessons to be learned, the need for more creativity, physical strength/sexual prowess, and freedom.

The Bereaved

2010-07-13T11:50:00.000-07:00

I feel like I exist in this completely warped and separate world.

Everything feels so large, dark, menacing, and sharp. I'm afraid. I feel scared.

I don't know what to think and I don't know what to feel.

I don't belong in the world of the mourners and I don't belong with everyone else. In a completely separate existence. An existence that I no longer want to exist within.

I feel threatened.

I feel as if I want to reach out for someone. I want to ask for help. And I want someone to support me. I want to feel like someone is there, that I'm connected. I want to feel alive and warm and as if I exist. I want to feel tied to the world, a different world than the one I am in. I debated all evening if I would call someone, if I would make the call, if I would make the connection, reach out.

I didn't and I don't know why I didn't.

Last night I was walking through the streets to my car and it was as if the shadows could swallow me whole. Everything has claws. As if just around the corner there lay some secret, silent, invisible threat, ready to pounce on me, devour me. As it did her.

I'm just so afraid.

And fear doesn't make sense in the context of grief. But I'm struggling for what would be right in the context of grief.

At the same time I feel like I don't want anyone anymore. I don't want friends, I don't want to be close. I don't want to feel the claustrophobic closeness of needing someone, loving someone, letting someone matter. Because there have been so many surprises and so many deaths and so many illnesses, everyone is in danger. Everyone is at risk. Everyone and anyone can be taken at any moment. They too, even if they don't yet see it, are living in this dark, dark threatening world. The monsters follow them too.

And I don't know if I could withstand the weights that I see on the shoulders of the bereaved. I don't think I could put on so many brave faces and brave fronts and I don't think I could take it. I cannot bear a loss. One more loss. One bigger loss.

I feel like the next straw, the next stress, the next anxiety could break me.

I cannot lose. And because I cannot lose I have this immense fear in my heart of gaining, or winning. of growing and going.

I can't sleep at night. And when I do I wake frazzled. As if my mind was just racing and suddenly it's stopped. My dreams are hyper-speed and when I awake everything is slow motion. Slow motion and silence.

Slow motion and silence.

Islands of Despair

2010-07-12T13:23:00.000-07:00

Isolated, in silence, each island lets the waves lap along it's shore. Small waves of wetness. Of sorrow. Of hushed sobs and sighs.

There is nothing original or appropriate or helpful to say in the face of grief. In the midst of grieving.

How does the sun turn in this small sea when so many storms have come to force?

In the world that I'm used to, the land where I was raised, noise could block out the feelings we were and were not feeling. As a child we were never expected to understand black clothes and funeral parlors. Children are the only reprieve from death.

I thought that we were done with this. Done with tragedy. Done with crisis. Done with long nights and long nights and longer days. It is summer, isn't it?

Has it been a year? Has it been two? It hasn't stopped pouring. Was I wrong to hope for even just a handful of months or a year to just rest? Rest our hearts. Rest our souls. It's been nothing but hospital beds and hospital beds and black mourning clothes and flower arrangements and cemetery grass and all these awkward, swollen, silences where I can't think of even just one word to say.

Even just one word as a boat, a raft, a signal fire in the darkness. Just one word to bridge the great expanse across this table, these chairs, this room full of so much grief, this indefinite space betweens these islands of despair.

2010-07-02T00:31:00.001-07:00

Misery is a funny thing...

Enclosed

2010-06-23T14:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I live in just... An ugly world.

Everything is grey and cemeteries and ugly building, and claustrophobic cubicles. My every day is fog and banks and drab ugly parking lots and completely lifeless, colorless, bland buildings.

I feel like I exist in a place where there's no beauty.

The Week

2010-06-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

I originally intended to write about how excited I am for film development and self processing.

Last night I processed my first roll of film (chemicals and pitch black claustrophobic room and all!) It was terribly exciting and all morning long it's been the only thing I could think of.

It feel goood.

But now that I'm at work and it's 11 o'clock on a Tuesday I'm much too stressed out to gush and gush about how inwardly happy I could be. Could be if work wasn't such a fuck-fest.

Fuck Tuesdays. I hate Tuesdays. I hate Tuesdays of every week.

Especially now that I have my class on Monday and I'm so excited and happy for it before and after that the aftermath of a class-less Tuesday gets me even more down.

But while I'm complaining about days of the week, let me add: fuck Wednesday and fuck Thursday. Thursdays aren't so bad sometimes. SOMETIMES.

Every Tuesday, Friday can't come soon enough.

My own personal little pharmacy

2010-06-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

If I don't have this with me at any given moment I'm probably a little stressed and anxious.

I have:

Zyrtec (cetirizine) : my H1 blocker
Zantac (ranitidine) : my H2 blocker (normal people take this one for stomach problems. )
Singulair (Montelukast) : my leukotriene blocker (normal people use this for asthma)
And a couple of Tylenol cause I've been getting a lot of headaches lately.

I've also been on: claritin, allegra, and pepcid. All for my hives. So far this seems to be the best combo of meds, although I admit I double up on the zyrtec occassionally.
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Jitters

2010-06-14T16:00:00.000-07:00

I could be wrong, but I suspect that I react to "First Day of School" with a little more anxiety than the normal person.

It started out in 1st grade. I had the stomach flu right before school started after summer and missed the first week of school (I remember it as 2 weeks, my older sister remembers it as 2 days.). Not only that, but we're running late. I had on my best and favorite dress, little folded over white lace trimmed socks, and little black patent Mary Janes. OK, so it's possible I wasn't wearing all that, that could be my memory embellishing. But, without embellishment or lie, I had this turquoise Little Mermaid plastic lunch box with matching thermos. I loved it. I was so proud and excited to show it off. The clothes I could be making up (but I don't think I am) but the lunchbox I clearly remember.

We get to school late and everyone is in their classes. The walkways were deserted. My mom is trying to make me rush and I'm running as fast as my little be-mary-jane-ed shoes can take me.

And then my lunch box breaks. The latch just unhinges and my lunch goes rolling across the cement.

My mom, being a mother, without missing a beat bends to pick it up, put it back, and carry on. But looking at my lunch there, my own shiny shoes, my hair was pulled back too tight, the empty hallways. I had a meltdown.

I stood there just weeping. My mom asked me what was wrong (probably thinking, "what THE HELL IS WRONG?!") and through my tears I ask, "What if no one likes me? What if everyone has friends already and no one likes me? What if the teacher doesn't like me? What if I'm STUPID?!?!" My life has rarely reached such high heights of pathetic.

After some consolation and cajoling, I finally make it into the classroom and continue with the rest of my first grade year like a relatively normal child. (For the record, my 1st grade teacher didn't like me.)

But every year, my first day of school has somehow followed the same pattern. High anxiety, rushing, outfits that I thought were nice but were probably just evidence of trying too hard. Breakdowns, meltdowns, bargaining with my mom. Even as old as.... sixth or eighth grade I cried every first day of school. My mom would dutifully walk me to my first class (yes, even in middle school) as much as she wanted to insist I was too old for such spoiling. And every year I've been plagued by the same doubts.

What if no one likes me? What if everyone else already has friends and I'm all alone?

What if the teacher doesn't like me? What if they hate me?

Worst of all, What if I'm stupid? What if I just can't do it? What if I'm not smart enough?

And so, as the work day is coming to an end, and as an adult this time (with my inner child crying over lunch scattered all over the floor), I face a new "First Day of School."

I'm dressed in my most Sydney of outfits, my hair is somewhat not a terrible mess. I have my things all packed and ready to go. My butterflies are ready to take flight.

(And I ask myself and wonder, "What if today could be the first day of the rest of my life? What if every day after this is different? What if my life is ready to begin?")

On the Horizon

2010-06-11T16:37:00.000-07:00

I'm working on a couple of new projects. Stay tuned.

In the mean time, I keep forgetting to post about my weekends. (for those of you that are interested)

Last weekend we watched my newest favorite band She & Him play at The Fox in oakland. It was pretty amazing. I went cherry picking with my family. I went to Adam's grandfather's 80th bday. I got monday off! Which was different and awesome

This past weekend was also fun-packed. It was my mom's bday so we went to dinner with everyone one night. The next night, as her present we went and watched Wicked! As expected, I liked it. I don't see myself being Wicked crazy and LOVING it like many do, but it was good. My whole family (even my dad) liked it. So if someone were to ask if they should go, I 'd definitely recommend it. Just don't get nosebleed seats like we did.

Oh, last weekend we also went to the Antique Fair! It was pretty successful even though we didn't stay long. I bought a new watch (I've been in the market, if you don't remember, for a watch. This one only $10), A Yashica 635 TLR in original case with original manual and light meter, filters, and all attachements for 70 while it ebay retails for around 140 - 200, a record case/holder, and a nightstand for 40. Probably one of the best bags of loot we've brought home for it.

Other things I've recently bought:

I won my Diana Colette off ebay, unsued, unopened, in package for $66.
I bought a garland for decoration in our room, It came a little wonky so I think I'll be returning it for a new one.
I bought fabric and foam to camaer-ize my newest bag turn camera case.
A Four Corners Dark plastic 35 mm with some film

Aaaand.... I think that's it! haha. This has become my own personal shopping blog.

I'm a Girl of Obsessions

2010-06-10T11:45:00.000-07:00

Things that I'm constantly obsessed with, talking about, or grossing other people out with:

Really horribly gruesome murder, rape, kidnap, or attack stories. This also includes drugs gone awry and devolved into the murder, rape, kidnap or attacks.
Strange illnesses or life threatening conditions. This includes brain worms, pretty much any parasite, or really rare and debilitating diseases.
Dogs, puppies, and determining their breeds. I'm actually pretty good at it.
Cameras, buying cameras, and my unending needing for film monies.
Musicals of most types but not musicals or all types.
Odd history factoids. I have this bad habit of being kind of schools-y. I constantly want to talk about useless school like useless knowledge that no one cares about. When people embrace this part of me, I know we're friends.When people make me feel strange, awkward, and nerdy for this.... I feel strange, awkward and nerdy.

And that's pretty much just it!

Wedding Rambles

2010-06-09T15:13:00.000-07:00

It comes as no surprise to those of you that know me and those of you that read this blog that I've been pretty wedding obsessed almost my whole life.

I wasn't the kind of girl that married her barbies or made her teddy bears date. I was never boy crazy. Come middle school all my friends had crushes or boyfriend or broken hearts. Most of the time I lied and said I liked someone just to say it. I knew deep down that it was no crush. That I was faking it.

I even went through a phase insisting that I was an independant. That I'd never get married. That I'd never relinquish my modern day womanly rights for something so silly as a marriage.

And then I fell in love.

It happened early. It happened fast. And unlike a lot of other's first loves that happen early and fast, mine stayed. And come our 2 year dating mark the wedding itch began. And then around 3 years the weddingless problems began. At around 4 years, I was losing hope. At about 5, I resigned myself, happily to not getting married or being on the wedding track, as I called it.

Our 6 year anniversary came and went and a month or two later came the engagement.

Since I was 15 I've been sneakily buying wedding magazines. I've been pulling pages and putting them in little page protectors ever since then. Dresses mostly but also flowers and places. I couldn't wait for the day I could start planning a wedding!

It is finally here. And what am I? Not planning.

What was once a pressing need, a pressure, is now just something that I should worry about that I'd much not rather think about. I've had a person or two imply that this means I don't care. This isn't the case.

It's that I care so much that the wedding barely matters. I'm finally adult enough to realize that it isn't just the wedding I desired, but the marriage. Because the state of our relationship, to me, is so stable and good and.... enough, that I don't need to flaunt it. I don't feel the need for some big, huge, extravagant party when just a few beautiful moments alone can suffice. That and wedding planning is such a hassle! And for what? Miniscule details. I suddenly don't feel the need to stress out at the state of my cuticles for the wedding, or what music we'll play, or where we'll rent linens at. Thinking of my bridesmaids line-up doesn't send me into a panic. People go crazy over the most ridiculous things.

Maybe it's because I'm too realistic. I don't expect it to be the GREATEST day of my life EVER! I don't think it's going to meet all of my childhood dreams of fairy godmothers, no budget, and trumpets playing classic rock love songs. I hope it'll be a wonderful day. It'll be my only wedding so I don't want things to go wrong or badly or even mediocre. But why ruin every day up to a wedding with stress and anxiety for a "perfect" wedding? Prefect isn't possible. Absolutely wonderful is. That's what I'm aiming for.

We've even discussed pushing our wedding back an extra year to give us more time to save and him more time to graduate. I'm not even all that sad about it. It just makes sense.

Now that I finally have a wedding to plan my wedding obsession is nowhere to be found.

Monday Morning

2010-06-07T10:23:00.000-07:00

Strawberry cupcake from San Francisco's best That Takes The Cake, light on the frosting -- breakfast of champions.
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Shop Shop Shop

2010-06-03T14:24:00.000-07:00

Last night, after bit of didn't-get-to-go-shopping blues, I satiated my need for some retail therapy via internet sales.

If there's anything I love more than shopping, it's finding things that are total steals that I absolutely love. (Keep in mind that I value how much I like an item over how cheap and item is, and the ultimate is when I find a happy medium between the two.)

So last night, I bought this:

Which, with the power of some DIY craftiness and some foam will be my newest SLR camera case! Ah, fashion and utility, how exciting.

I also bought a case for my Diana (and the diana flash which I don't yet own. But it was soooo cheap I had to! and I plan on buying one soon. So soon in fact I almost bought it last night.)

Case:

Flash case:

And, in case any of you forgot what my absolutely awesome and completely cool Diana looked like:

Here she is, in all her glory:

Aaaaaaaand, as I previously mentioned in a post, I'm in the market for a new Diana.

I love the dreamer to no end. Even seeing it makes my heart skip a little beat. But I just need a backup. So i'm left to wonder: Do I buy the exact same one I have or get an equally cool one? I'm leaning towards a new looking one.

I wanted the Qing Hua one. But the Colette is seriously drawing me in.

Isn't it.... beautiful?

Plus, it was released on Internation Women's Day and comes with a new book on Diana Women photographers. How could that not reel me in?

OHhhhh but, anyways, the reason I was writing this whole entry was to brag.

Brag that the 3 things I bought last night were all on sale and save me almost 100 dollars. ($98 to be exact). Yay for me!

How Do I Think I Got Here?

2010-06-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

Science.

A conversation that will forever haunt me is when I told my parents for the first time that I don't believe in god.

They had previously thought I just didn't like going to church and didn't ascribe to their direct religion.

For those of you that don't know my parents, they're pretty devout catholics. I wouldn't call them hardcore in that they believe hardcore. They're no Born-Agains or Mormons or.... whatever else. But they do go to church every Sunday. My mom used to cook dinner for the priests like a favor to god. I think they were born into it and they just never bothered to question it. They're devoted. I think that's a good way to describe them.

I think they expected me to be the same way? Because I don't live the law-less, wild, and horribly god-less life like my brothers and because I don't preach around disrespecting god and calling religion stupid like most atheists, they just assumed I was like them. God-fearing.

So, as an act of anger, frustration, rebellion (just a little), and honest to god (haha) truth, I told them: I am an adult now. And I'm not going to church with you anymore. Not even holidays.

You see, as soon as I was old enough I stopped going with them every Sunday. I'd sleep in and absolutely love it. As I got into my teenage years they could begrudgingly drag me to Christmas, Easter, mother and fathers day, their birthdays, and a couple other random holidays here and there. The priest would call it being a CEO. Christmas Easter Only. I did it because it made them happier.

So, back to the story, I tell my mom I'm not going to church and she says, "But you still believe in god, right?" And it was posed as if it could only be positive. As if she were asking me, "You're still my daughter, right?" or "You still breathe, right?" or "You're still a human being and not some horrible monster....... right?"

When I said no it was like a small bomb exploded in their heads.

In unison my little bible-thumping little sister and father exclaimed, "How do you think you got here?!" No, wait, it was probably more like, "HOW DO YOU THINK YOU GOT HERE?!!!"

My dad roared from across the room, "SCIENCE?!?!?"

And then it was like a small bomb exploded in my head.

Despite the fact that I went on to explain that one doesn't have to be a god-believer to believe in being a good person and that I was still the same person other than the heathen part. I was shoo-ed away. They didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't the time. I could corrupt my little sister's little angel ears.

But my mind didn't stop reeling. I couldn't believe it! My parents were neanderthals! They didn't believe in evolution!????! They thought science was ridiculous?!!? How could I respect them if they couldn't very well take at least a little bit of knowledge into their god-packed brains?!?

And then I came to realize (slowly) that I was being just like them. So, like they did, I just let it go. It probably lingers in the back of their minds the way their anti-evolution stance lingers in the back of mine - with a little bit of shame and embarrassment but an overall "let's not talk about it" kind of acceptance.

The reason for all that very long intro was to discuss something entirely different: The Jesus Fish on cars. The Jesus Fish vs. The Darwin Fish.

The whole debate and debacle are really kind of cute when you think about it. I was driving to work today and I saw a little jesus fish that said "TRUTH" inside of it eating a darwin fish. I couldn't believe it. I googled it and apparently there are like a million alternatives: Darwin fish fucking jesus fish, dinosaurs eating one or the other fish, calvin and hobbes pissing on one or the other fish. The list is endless. But it got me thinking:

Am I zealot? Did I unquestioningly accept the theory of evolution as truth? I assumed it was right, melded it to my mind and heart, and didn't give it a second thought?

I mean, I was an A+ 110% biology student (really, I was, extra credit assignments and everything) in high school, but does that really count? I love science in a sometimes astounding way that made me heavily consider switching my major to bio when I was 19. I might be able to tell you more about alleles, genetics, the phylogenetic tree, and the general theory of evolution possible than the average bear, but, I'm no expert. I know there are objections to it, there are theories that contest it, but I don't really know what they are.

What if some other theory of how the world came to be appeals more to logic??

While thinking these things I found myself feeling scared and sad. Alone in a sea of uncertainty. Was I wrong? Is my entire life about to be turned upside down? People like to say that they don't have much invested in ways of thought. They are wrong. I have very much invested into everything I think. Was it all about to go to naught?

With a heavy heart I turned to my good friend: Wikipedia. Oh the ways in which she comforted me so. (For those of you who don't approve of the validity of wikipedia, I do know it shouldn't be taken TOO seriously, but they've done studies that show that there are the same percentage of errors in wikipedia as there are in any published encyclopedias. So it's mostly correct but, as with everything we read, shouldn't be regarded as absolute truth.)

I completely recommend the Wikipedia articles on evolution, the objections to evolution, and the PBS website on evolution. I particularly like the distinguishment and explanation of theory, fact, and proven, just as terms to understand.

I learned a lot more than I previously knew, I skimmed a bunch that I probably should have learned instead, but it comes down to this:

I can be secure in believing in evolution. It's no idiot's folie. I'm not being an ignorant zealot.

That's not to say that I think they're mutually exclusive beliefs, that you have to ascribe to one or the other and can never be reconciled. There are plenty of ways that people have happily married spirituality and evolution, science and the supernatural.

I just happy to have a little more back-up in my beliefs.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury

2010-06-02T16:50:00.000-07:00

I like to entertain myself by taking those REALLY horrible MySpace-esque surveys. Really, I do. There's nothing I love more in the world.

But they're a little out-dated.

I also love to entertain the thought that I will one day be on the jury of a high profile crime case. Something about a murder or better yet, serial murdering.

Imagine my excitement when I see on The SFist a list of questions they're asking potential jurors for the BART killing trial. (In case you want to know the whole story it's here. )

I couldn't be happier.

— Have you ever written a letter to the editor?

Uhmmmm..... No. I've commented on some blogs before. Does that count?

— List any subject matter or genre in reading materials, television programs or movies that you try to avoid.

I avoid crime or war books unless they're classics. I also avoid Tom Clancy or whatever his name is like the plague. I don't really like anything too contemporary or modern. I usually flip through a book and if a cell phone, an email, or a specific model of car is referenced and is particularly important for the entire story, I won't read it. I watch a lot of Law & Order but I hate teeny-bopper TV shows like.... American Idol, The OC, One Tree Hill, or something that will one day be found on Noggin.

— Do you consider yourself an expert on any subject?

I consider myself an expert at pretty much everything but I'm actually an expert on pretty much nothing. Unless you count: eating, really terrible stories you shouldn't tell children, and not getting any work done in a day. Also, sleeping through heavy noise. I'm reeeeaallly good at that.

— Have you ever considered working in law enforcement?

I considered it briefly because I'm such a stickler for the rules. I love guidelines. I'm also an "all or nothing" kind of girl which seems like it would suit well to the carrying out of laws sometimes arbitrarily written. I decided against it because I'm not very authoritarian and hate to be. And when it came down to it I question things more than I blindlessly obey.

— Have you, friends or relatives ever had a gun pointed at you or them, or been frightened by a gun?

Oh my god, no. I'm sure we've all had our turns just generally being FRIGHTENED by guns, but to be specifically frightened BY a gun? I'm gonna say no.

— Have you ever visited someone in a jail, prison or juvenile detention facility, or have you ever been incarcerated?

I think my mom made we wait outside in the car once while her and my dad took turns visiting one of my older brothers in Juvie. But it was so long ago I can barely remember.

— Have you or anyone close to you ever had a bad experience with a police officer?

Do tickets count?

— What should be done to reduce crime?

I have a general belief that there isn't much we can really do about crime. It's inevitable. In a perfect world with peace for all mankind then: If there was no one hungry or in want. If every person that wanted to succeed could do so easily. If there were no drugs and no problems that needed escaping... there'd be no crime. I don't think super strict laws or more intimidating police force would actually reduce crime. It might, I guess....

— Do police officers lie? If yes, how often?

I imagine that they lie as often as normal people do. Meaning that some must like every day multiple times a day and others work hard not to tell lies their whole loves.

— Do you understand the charges are not evidence?

Well duh. I did go to school for Legal Studies, after all. I'm not an idiot/

— Could you fire a gun in self-defense?

I want to say I could. I'd hope I could if it came down to it. But I don't really trust myself...

— Should police officers be treated differently than civilians if they break the law?

In some ways, yes, because police officers are enforcers of the law they should be held to a higher standard. It's like celebrities, they don't want to be overly scrutinized but it's part of the career package. If they wanted to be held to the same lax standards as normal citizens they shouldn't SIGN UP to be role models, to be examples. Yet, I see that they are just human beings and we'll all make mistakes. Getting a badge doesn't instantly make one a super hero.

— Will the fact that a white police officer shot and killed a black man make it difficult for you to be a fair and impartial juror in this case?

Nah. I feel like I, of all people, and especially in this case could be completely color blind. Circumstances dictate more than mere colors.
— Do you have an opinion as to whether racial discrimination is a problem in Oakland?

Is it possible to not have an opinion? Whether positive or negative, an opinion is an opinion.
— If you are selected as a juror in this case, do you anticipate any negative reactions by friends or family if you find the defendant guilty? If you find the defendant not guilty?

No, I think everyone would be too psyched and happy for me that I got to live out my dream of being a juror. Guilty or not, I'd throw myself a party.

— Would you like to serve on this jury?

Please see previous paragraphs. haha.

Civic Duty

2010-05-24T13:19:00.000-07:00

Usually I make the half hour trek to my parents house out in El Granada to vote every voting type day because:

1) I'm too lazy too re-register where I live now given that I may not be living there much longer.

And

2) I like having the full voting experience with old people, electronic voting machines vs. Fill in the line ballots, and stickers. It's like reading a book. It's more than just the words: it's the turning of the physical page, the smell of the book, the feeling of accomplishment to put each page behind you.

But this year I've gotten busy. I even missed the last voting day! I know it was one of those local measures sort of thing, but it's still the first time since I've turned 18.

So, I've decided to register to absentee vote.

Just for this one time.
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Material Monday

2010-05-24T13:07:00.000-07:00

Maybe I talk about material things too often, I'll call it a bad habit.

It's because my brain is only ever filled with the following things: fighting off depression, fighting off the feelings of a relatively mediocre so far life, worry about various relatives in the hospital or distant but still present family friend deaths (or the effects of both on those that are closer to me), being ridiculously in love or ridiculously irritated at love, small bickerances with friends and shopping. Seriously.

If I only ever talked about the other stuff can you imagine what a downer reading and writing this blog would be? It's a bit of a downer as it is, but we can't very well make wine from water, now can we?

Plus, I'm a girl in my early 20's whose found love, lives on a moderate income, and has spent the earlier half of the past decade worrying about things from global warming to the military industrial complex to proper birth control. I shouldn't have to feel guilty about being a little materialistic.

I think I've just now decided that every monday I should make a list of material things. I'll call it my Materialistic Monday. You know, so that way I can keep my shorter-term, easier to attain (and forget) goals in sight.

A list of things I feel like I always need and won't ever stop:

Black eyeliner
Black cardigans
Black tights
Black ballet flats

What? They're staples, ok? Everything goes with them. I swear it.

Things that I probably sincerely need but won't get around to buying because I derive no joy from them:

More professional looking work clothes. I have a small collection as is neccessary for my job but it's limited. and it runs out fast. And everytime I go shopping for more I can't make myself swallow the burden of paying so much for things that I need and dislike so much. (I was once in the oppsite situation, where I felt like I had no nice casual clothes. only work clothes of bum clothes.)
New bras. I can't remember the last time I bought a bra. Some girls obsessively buy lingerie and various undergarments. I'm not that kind of girl. That's like... fashion for my enjoyment only. I like to shaaaare. That and I have a dog with a penchant for destroying underwear. I don't know why she does it but no matter how hard I try eventually she will get ahold of whatever it is I hold dear. It makes buying "nice" undergarments much less exciting.
Pajamas. Who wants to waste money on things that you only sleep in? I might as well be naked. But this does become a problem given that at least once a week we have sleep-over guests at the house.

Saturday Morning

2010-05-22T13:54:00.001-07:00

Ok, it isn't morning.

But I have the best boyfriend ever.

He makes me jam sandwiches even when I look like crumb.

the end.

Tomorrow Morning

2010-05-20T12:58:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited and happy I could dance.

Instead I'll type excited like this:

aljkerlakjlvkjalktrjal;wkejfl;aksdjflakjrtlkajfkl;ajdljakjerejieruoiawuenckeahfkj.

seriously.

My absolute favorite band, The Eels, is releasing yet another new album (third in less than a year and a half).

And have annouced a world tour. Since what feels like forever. I'm half considering giving up my life here to groupie-it-up and travel all around the world just to see them in cool new places.

Most likely I'll hit Southern CA, San Francisco, or maybe even Seattle. It's been a long time.

How many times have I seen them live? I think too many times to count or remember. There was the time I went with andrea (1), once in SB (2), one time near Adam's bday (3), once as part of the book tour (4).... .. .. . I think there's one more time but I can't remember where or maybe I'm confusing it with something else... hmm.... Either way, I'm pretty sure I've seen at least one show of all of their tours since I began to listen to them my junior year in high school. (I'll always regret NOT seeing them in Paris way back wheeen).

And their welcome page on their website has turned to a pink gradation. Even more excitement for me.

Perspective

2010-05-19T01:02:00.000-07:00

I have a hard time talking about these sort of things.

Talking about dreams and goals and my aspirations makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. Like just to speak it aloud to one person opens me up to the whole world for judgement. Currently I'm in the state that just one mal-judgement or unkind word could squash me forever. I'm fragile.

That being said, while browsing quotes I've run into this:

"It's never too late to be what you might have been"
- George Elliot

(Picture by me)

I'm trying to apply this to my frame of mind, my daily life, and my very soul. I whisper it inside of myself to remember.

I feel like people that know what they want to do with their lives and have known for as long as they can remember have a luxury that I wasn't given.

The luxury of being sure of yourself. Secure in your talents and abilities.

To me, to know what you want to do and who you want to be, to spend your whole life sucking at it but continually fighting for it and continually pursuing it, while possibly a little foolish, is a life not wasted.

Not everyone is given that luxury.

The rest of us, sometimes, struggle all day every day to find some seed within themselves that they could nurture into a passion that will shade and protect them throughout their lives.

That's what I'm looking for right now. Sometimes I get down because I haven't found it yet. But I remind myself that it's better now than never. And better now than 5 years from now when I'm practically 30. And Hey, better I figure it out at 30 than at 40 or 50. And better 40 or 50 than at 70 when it's almost too late to do anythign about it. And it's better at 70 than to have never figured it out in my life at all.

I like to hear stories about people that found their passion late in life: writers, actors, world famous singers. It gives me hope. It inspires me. It reminds me that it's never too late to come into your own.

It's never too late to be what you might have been.

And if I could whole heartedly accept that (not just be inspired and hope for it) then maybe everything would turn out alright...

I can't function half blind.

2010-05-18T01:18:00.000-07:00

Sometimes at the end of the day it feels so damn good to take my glasses off.

Maybe that's just a really bad metaphor about the weight and burden of needing to see the world.

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Just another Monday...

2010-05-17T18:21:00.000-07:00

with a sudden craving ignited by the internet and fueled by my menstruation adam and I jetted off to the city for some cupcakes!!

Two closed cupcake places later and a 10 min. Drive later we settled on the most delicious panaderia.
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Is it my birthday yet?

2010-05-17T12:54:00.000-07:00

People talk about being "good with money" all the time like it's some sort of olympic sport.

I accept that it's a different kind of talent that I just don't have.

Maybe the bad part is that I don't see any fault in not being "good with money." I wouldn't consider myself bad with it.

I just don't see the point of... well... to be honest, I don't see the point of saving. I'm too fatalistic, I guess. I don't trust the future enough.

That, or I value the instant too much.

I just don't see the enjoyment in being overly thrifty, sheisting away each cent like a dragon in it's lair.

I don't see the point in not offering to pay for dinner with friends if I have it (because most would pay for mine when I don't have it), or wearing horribly ugly mal-fashioned clothes and feeling dumpy (Not that all cheap clothes are ugly but most are.), or not going out to the movies and staying home. To me saving money equals not having any fun. It sounds boring.

I'm bad because I constantly want things.

I feel like my NineToFiveMonday-FridayofCrap job should afford me more luxury items. But after rent, utilities, cell phone, credit card, and, what I call, surprise expenses (dog to the vet with her stupid UTI for months, birthdays, and things of the such) I usually have very little money to spare.

I'm currently trying to figure out which of these three things I want and need more.

A new watch. How can someone say that they don't REALLY need a watch? I hate needing my phone to check the time. I used to religiously be a watch wearer until the clasp on my favorite watch (a reaaally beautiful anne klein filigree watch) got loose. It would fall off all the time so I stopped wearing it so as not to lose it. Now I have no idea where it is. I love the beauty and timelessness of an antique pocket watch but it just seems unreasonable to always expect myself to wear it. In pocket, on necklace, or otherwise. It's more accessory than utilitarian tool. I'm not commited to this pink one, here, but I do like it. I'm also considering a full black on black on black. (please note, proper fitting men's watches are now totally acceptable on girls. they're fashionable.)

I assume we all already know of my Absolute Unwavering Love for my Diana Camera. Part of it's charm is it's rickety plastic build (despite high price). I've always wanted to buy another just in case the fad goes out, they're no longer available and mine is broken, leaving me high and dry and diana-less for the rest of my sad lonely like. Yet, I couldn't justify spending so much on a new one if it A) wasn't absolutely awesome looking and different or B) Awesome looking but exactly the same as the one I currently have. Finding the Qing Hua has solved my problem. I want it so bad my chest aches when I see it. It's just that awesome to me.

I need a new MP3 player. I've never really bought one before. I got the 1st gen iPod nano as a birthday gift ages ago that I used for awhile before I realized that my dad bought an 80 gb video ipod and didn't use it. I used that one for a couple of years until it recently just stopped working for no reason whatsoever! I was mad, but knowing the iPod internal battery expectation I wasn't too surprised or upset. I reverted back to my trusty nano. Not 2 months later it "sad-mac-ed" me. It seems like a good choice to get an iPhone because I constantly steal Adam's just for the games but I just hate the thought of using it as my primary phone. I need a keyboard to function! I'm not patient enough for the inaccuracy of touchscreen. A good medium is the iTouch. I'd be willing to try a Zune or some other off-brand device but in my research so far, prices are about the same, what they offer is about the same, and the Touch offers more games.

See? I don't want that much. And at least I have good reasons! The vestiges of my spoiled childhood makes me secretly hope and wait for the day my parents are like "hey! Let's go shopping! I'll buy you something!"

They have yet to come and my magic 8-ball tells me that the outlook isn't good. It's just a downfall of being an adult that one has to pay for their own luxury goods.

The Things We Carry

2010-05-16T21:47:00.000-07:00

Usually when I bake, cook, or hardcore clean I take off my engagement ring to save it from getting stained, besmirched, or be-yuckied. I keep it in my little goose measuring cup.

When I dishwashed and flan-baked I took off my ring, put it in it's little goose home, and went on my merry way.

But the next morning and the morning after that I kept forgetting to grab it. So, three days later I've finally remembered my ring and we are reunited.

It's funny how something material and so small can be so comforting and feel like home.

It isn't exactly the ring just because it's an egagement ring. It's a sentimental object.

(that and I lose things often.)

Temper Temper

2010-05-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

Last night / this morning I had a dream I was burning to death.

Seriously.

In better news:

My cousin's tumor test was positive. It was benign, meaning it wasn't cancerous and he won't have to go through Chemo.
My brother had yet another baby (other brother due to baby burst in 5 mos.)
I didn't wake up in a horribly terrible mood.
and tomorrow is Adam's birthday.

Yay to fridays. All I need is a little sun.

What more could I want?

2010-05-10T20:12:00.000-07:00

The sun isn't even fully set and it's 8pm.

Summer has officially arrived and I couldn't be more excited.
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Shoes and Jumping

2010-05-10T18:22:00.000-07:00

OK.

So as I'm sure you all know my blog entries are almost always too long. I start with a point and then I just ramble ramble ramble off until all hope is lost of ever being found.

Well, you'll be happy to learn that I just figured out how to insert a jump. SO, interested in reading about my bad ass (and occassionally just bad) blogging skills? Then read on after the jump!

Wow. I feel so cool. I officially had a jump.

Apparently Blogger has had this feature since this past September (easily had, I mean. I think if you're html savvy it could have always been done but I was far too lazy for that.) and I just never knew.

While I'm talking about the logistics of blogs I might as well bring up this:

I've been thinking about the difference between a "good" blog or even further a "successful" blog and my own.

I think more successful blogs have a theme (among many other things I do not). But they blog usually about one broad topic, be it gadgets or weddings or graphic design or even just birds. I can't even decide on how candid I want to be in these posts!

One day I'm overly vauge and talking jibber jabber about only the broadest strokes of my life. Other days I'm far too open and talk about things that I regret later. Most days I complain about work. Some days I want to put pictures, other days I'm all about linking. Some days I try to be funny and yet others I'm too emotional.

I was debating which direction I should go in, what tone and subject to commit to. It was difficult. I could seem to decide.

And then I realized that this blog is just a metaphor for my life right now. No direction, no discretion, and aimless, meaningless wandering. That's who I am right now. I'm no particularly ashamed or embaressed of this fact (although I'm not exactly proud) but it is what it is. This blog is for me. Not for some attempt at success or fame. That's as if a scrapbooker expected their scrapbooks to become high museum gallery quality art. This is simply my hobby. Even if I don't have many readers it doesn't matter. This is just for me. and right now this is just what I'm doing. It's just who I am.

AND I like reading blogs more like this anyway. Too open, closer to life, completely unorganized, relatively badly written, and a nothing about a nobody. It's voyeuristic. And for a brief moment it's like reading someone else's life. Being in someone else's shoes. I like that.

Come With Me...

All the Names by Jose Saramago

Book Week 3

Diets

The Clandestine something something Miguel Littin

The Colony of Unrequited Dreams

2012 Book Challenge

A year in review

And so it is...

What I wore today

Goals.

Doors

My Productive Day Off

The Elegance.

What is the meaning of the individual in the face of the infinity?

Fuck Fridays

Cities

Comfort

Dreams Last Night

Norwegian Wood

Is there any other way to live?

Things I need to Tell Myself Over and Over

The Legacy

Developing

Cereal.

A Valentine

Friday

Hope

How does your garden grow?

"That's what I say"

Good Job

Two thousand Ten

Resolve

It's official!!

On The Move Again...

The Heart of the Matter

Chronicles

Monday

Really?

The Coming Plauge

Pockets Full of Good Intentions

My semi-boring life:

Thursday Morning

Lately it feels like

Pages

24

Seriously.

Nights

Emerald City! (View from our hotel room)

Spinning

The Steps

Things I'm No Good At:

A Rose By Any Other Name

BFF

This Night

Lost day

Night Fight

Buildings in the Sun

Crazy Hair Thursday

I admit it

Happy Birthday Barack Obama!

Penelope

Stuck

It's bubbles under the sea....

Living in a Dream World

The Bereaved

Islands of Despair

Enclosed

The Week

My own personal little pharmacy

Jitters

On the Horizon

I'm a Girl of Obsessions

Wedding Rambles

Monday Morning

Shop Shop Shop

How Do I Think I Got Here?

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury

Civic Duty

Material Monday