oh for godsake...

Today appears to call for 2 posts. The earlier one seems to have caused a stir among those silly people I affectionately call my friends. btw - thanks Randa for telling everyone. I now feel incredibly lame but love you anyway.

Yes yes yes, I'm sad. (It was perfect timing for losing those few pounds to make my prom dress fit perfectly :P .. I'm kidding). Yes yes yes, it's about a guy. A missed opportunity with a guy. I'm not dying and my heart is not broken nor do I think the world will stop spinning tomorrow. I'm just flippin' SAD!! And I'm almost positive that there are at least a few of you who have felt that same way at sometime in your life about something equally silly. The earlier post was a little dramatic piece intended as an emotional outlet. So while I appreciate all the sympathy and words of cheer, I'm fine .. really.

Now, if y'all will please just let me be sad for the next few hours. I promise that by this time tomorrow I'll be the life of the party and you'll never even know I've been sad. It's actually quite a normal emotion and if my happys are even half as good as my sads, I'm a lucky girl.

If you really want to cheer me up, send Randa hate mail telling her to shut up :D.

...on wishing

She woke up to to the sun
Streaming in her window.
She closed her eyes
And wished as hard
As she could ..
'Let today be different'.

It was too late.

She'd
already
thought
of
him.

Ryan says...

We always want what we can't have
If we do finally get it
It loses its value
And is meaningless to us

That's just depressing
Shut up, Ryan ;p

The Quest

As you can tell if you regularly read my blogs, I have spent a good part of the last three weeks being in some emotional turmoil. In an effort to explain the reason, I googled "fear of the future". There's no phobia with that name but apparently a band thought it was pretty cool. I've driven just about every one of my friends crazy with whining and fussing and worrying about the decisions I had to make and how to do that.

So I left home yesterday morning and headed to San Antonio. I love this city. I called this little trip 'a quest of self-discovery'. I sound so deep, huh? My quest took me to the river walk, which is absolutely one of my favorite places of all time. On my walk, I bought this cute pair of peace sign earrings because everyone on a quest should look good, don't you think? I had a latte and a blueberry scone, because they rock. I sat and watched people and discovered that I really think there are some people who shouldn't wear shorts and that I'm incredibly jealous of happy couples and I'd like to know how they do it.

I sat on a rock and watched the river and thought it was kind of a shame that people litter. And for a while I wondered what it would be like to be a fish. It might not be too bad. You wouldn't have to make any decisions. It was getting cool and kind of dusky so I wandered back to the hotel. I rented Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist and watched it once all the way through. Then I put on my i-pod, muted the movie and watched it 5 more times to my own infinite playlist and wrote my own script. I got to be Nora and my 'like' interest was Nick. (that alone made me giggle). It ended differently every time.

I made some decisions yesterday. I want to say that some of them are life-altering and some not so much. But in reality, they were all life-altering because every time we make a decision it alters our life, even if it's only a little. I don't know how much I discovered about myself but I've decided on a path and maybe that's all I can do for right now.

The Signs

"You missed the signs," she said.
"I didn't! I read them all!" he answered.
"Then you missed their subtly and that is why you are lost."

...

everything was exactly where it had been left. but it all looked and felt different. the spell was broken and it was done.

2H

My sketch pencils glare mockingly at me from my desk. I'd been lying in the torture device formerly known as my bed and feeling guilty for not being more productive.

I glare back, "Eff you." I get up and throw a hoodie over them. "Take that."

I think I hear them sigh. "That won't make us go away you spoiled little bitch."

I look around the room. Hahahaha .. what? Did they just talk to me? Now they aren't just glaring, but talking and swearing?! I really should be finishing that submission for physics but I think I’ll go with chatting with my pencils just for giggles.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll sharpen you down to carbon shavings." I answer. "I'm not spoiled and I'm pretty sick of people saying that..."

"Hey dumbass, we're pencils not people. You do realize you're having a conversation with your pencils?"

I thought I could actually hear one of them smirk. It was probably that 2H. He never liked me anyway."I don't care. You started it. And I'm not spoiled and I definitely don't think y'all should be name calling and mocking me." I'd gotten out of the bed and was pacing the floor. My life was just too bizarre sometimes.

2H seemed to have taken over as spokesperson .. erhm.. pencil. It figures. "You've been ignoring us."

Scenes from Donnie Darko flash through my brain. At any moment, I expect Frank to appear in my mirror. I wonder if I should just leave the room or call someone to come hear this, but I just stand there."I've been busy. And besides, nothing is turning out right." I laugh at myself for justifying my actions to my sketch pencils.

"That’s not what’s going on and you know it. You’re having an emotional crisis. Look what you did to that poor mug and even that you completely screwed up." This was perhaps the cockiest pencil I'd ever talked to .. wait .. well, never mind that right now.

“SHUT UP” I yell. “You think I don’t already know this? I’m talking to my flippin’ pencils you stupid moron.”

"Haha. Yeah. I’m the moron. I will not shut up," he said. "Look, if you're going to do something in anger, just do it. You needed a cheering section and 20 minutes to think about it."

"I did not. I just wrote it like that for dramatic effect. Besides, what the hell do you care? And ya know what!?" I said spinning around to face him. Uhoh. That pencil was really starting to piss me off and I felt a rant coming on.

"What's that little princess?" He chuckled.

I could feel my face flush. I absolutely detest being patronized. "Don’t call me a princess! I am sick and tired of everyone including my stupid belongings telling me how to feel and act. Shut up. I'll sketch when and if I feel like it. AND," I screamed, " if I wanna break every damm dish in the house, then I'll do that too."

"Okay. Okay. Calm down girlie." He patronized. "But while we're on the topic of things you should do .. "

"Wait,” I interrupt, “Why are we on that topic? I don't care what you think I should do. I quit. I'm done. I'm going out. And I'm not coming back. And I hope whoever comes in here to clean out my stuff puts you in the trash.”

“That's right little girl. Run away. It's easier than letting someone or something matter. Or trying something and having it not work. Run away though. That way you'll never have to be a big girl and grow up or take a chance."

"Fuck you." I said as I slam the door.

Who knows when or if I'll sketch again. I'm kinda scared of writing utensils now ;)

Will This Last?

*This was originally part of my myspace blog. I thought it was worth re-publishing here.

Several months ago, I met Bo Burasco on myspace. He's an amazing photographer from Kansas City, Missouri. (see links below) In perusing his photos, I came across this one which is actually a band's album cover. I wanted to write a story explaining the photo. After several false starts, this is what I came up with. I wanted it to be a narrative snapshot in time just as the picture is. With no real beginning or end.

Three weeks and there is more mess than the day they moved in. Half-empty boxes are piled in every corner. Clothes are scattered, dirty dishes are stacked and the cupboards are all but empty. He stands at the counter, pouring coffee. He grins as he hears her singing in the other room. He stirs the coffee and mentally plans the day.

She joins him for small talk. He gazes at her bohemian dress, auburn hair and slender shape. He is struck once again by her loveliness and how hard he has fallen for her. She is off on another of her artistic tangents and explaining her motivation for her latest creation. Realizing the time, she hurriedly finishes her coffee. She sets her cup down, gives him an absent-minded peck goodbye and is gone, humming as she breezes through the door.

Alone, he wonders how he got here. He is cautious and deliberate, planning each stage of his life. She is carefree, never planning a moment. He is sensible and matter-of-fact. She is a dreamer and flighty. He saved. She spent. And the differences go on. He is enchanted by her beauty and free-spirit. And yet terribly annoyed by her inability to focus on anything practical. He has never been so impulsive. They have only known each other a few months.

He can't imagine a life without her and yet he wonders ..will this last?



bo's deviantart
bo's myspace
bo's flickr

Anger flavored Coffee

I was very angry today. At who and why doesn't matter. It was just anger. I cried for hours. That was a complete waste. When I ran out of tears, all I had was smeared make up and a headache. And I was still sooooo angry!!

My friend had come over to visit and comfort me during my crying jag and by now, completely sick of the histrionics, said, "Quit crying and let's eat."

Sure I would never eat again, because I'm nothing if not dramatic, "Okay. But I'm not hungry. I think I'll just starve myself to death and no one will care." Insert pitiful sigh here.

She rolled her eyes and off we went to raid the kitchen.

Now my friend is about as scrawny a girl as I have ever seen. Tiny little thing but eats like a 300 lb. linebacker. She can put away some serious snacks. "We should get high. After all it's 4/20. You'd at least eat then and it'd def chill you out." She was mumbling at me from inside the pantry.

I was leaning against the island and glanced over, "Don't be stupid. Your dad would kill you and me and anyone else he could reach. Besides the logistics of that are too hard to figure out tonight. Shut up." Insert profanity in appropriate places because when I'm angry, I also swear a lot.

My head was pounding, food was making me nauseous and I could feel myself wanting to cry again. But I knew she'd had just about all she could take. So I choked back the tears and looked around.

Now understand that I'm typically a non-violent person but I was still pretty angry with no clue what to do about it. Then it occurred to me. The only violent thing I'd ever done was throw a mug against the patio doors. I briefly re-lived that moment, remembering the rush. I longed to duplicate it, knowing that if I could, there was hope that the anger would dissipate. And there it was. Sitting on the counter. That innocent little mug. And it called to me in a thin little muggy but coffee laden voice ... "Hayyyyyyleeeeyyyyy". I picked up the mug and looked at it. It wasn't one of my treasured Starbuck's mugs and was half full of cold coffee. Perfect.

My friend looked up from the bag of Dorito's, and reading my mind she giggled, "Do it."

"I might," I grinned .. for the first time all day.

"You should. You'll feel better."

"Maybe." I was still grinning and it actually felt good.

The thought of chucking that mug was making my adrenaline pump. I was having fantasies of being a super hero. Someone like Herculean Hayley with the strength of a hundred really strong Texan dudes .. or something. Remember, I'd been crying and my brain was fuzzy. The events leading up to my current emotional state kept flashing in my fuzzy Herculean brain all the while the mug continued it's call ... "Hayyyyyyleeeeeeyyyyyyy". Afraid of pushing my luck with the patio doors, I quickly scoped out the kitchen for the largest area of flat wall surface I could find. After all, if I was going to do this, I wanted it to be perfect.

My friend had hiked her skinny little butt up on the counter and was cheering me on "Go for it, Hails. It's either that or eat this whole bag of Dorito's, get fat and the dudes will no longer matter because no one will ever look at you again."

"Do it. Do it. Do it." she chanted.

"Don't make me laugh. I'll lose my mad", I said.

I checked the weight of the mug in my hand. I looked at that beautifully painted ecru wall. And then with all the strength I could muster, I hurled that mug against that wall. Coffee splattered everywhere and shards of ceramic clattered to the ground. It was, by far, the most beautifully artistic thing I'd done in weeks.

My friend sat there with her mouth full of Dorito's laughing.

We grabbed our purses, the Dorito's, 3 apples and an orange and left the house.

The anger was gone.

if ..

***Warning: this is the sappiest thing ever typed by these fingers. I am, however, merely the storyteller and she begs that it be told.

It was like this, she said:

Their connection was immediate and profound. Angels sang and fireworks lit up the sky the very first time she laid eyes on him. They were outside in a crowd but suddenly everyone else disappeared. They talked all night for days on end. "We should take a break," she said. "See if we still feel like this after sleep." He nodded, "Agreed in full."

But the infatuation was mutual and intense and seemingly unending. Yet it was more than that. It was the friendship. The understanding and knowing that is rare. During those first months she thought of him every moment of everyday. Everything that happened was topic for discussion and immediately understood. They were one. She was blissful, she said.

He was perfect. Every touch, every sound, every smell left her wanting more. To be away from him was physically painful. When apart, it would cross her mind that she might be imagining it. When they were together she wanted it to never end. She had never believed in romance or even love for that matter. But she knew if it existed, this was it.

It didn't end in the usual way. Neither cared for someone else. There was no fighting. No disagreement. No petty differences. They didn't grow apart or want different things.

It happened like this, she said:

She was startled the first time she realized she hadn't thought of him for a few moments. Once aware, it was easy to find excuses and reasons. She was busy. She needed to concentrate on something else. These things happen she thought. She scolded herself, determined to try harder. 'It'll take more than this to break the ties', she thought. But those times began to happen more often. The distancing was subtle but sure and steady. And heartbreakingly sad. She sat on the roof staring at the sky and sobbed, wishing that things were different. As time went on, she began to understand why there would be no ending to this story.

It is like this, she said:

It's been a few years and still a phrase or a scent or a song will bring memories flooding back. She woke up yesterday thinking of him. Later a brief note arrived saying he'd had a similar experience. The time and distance had changed nothing. There is no need for conversation or exploring where it could go because they both know the answer. The connection will never be broken and one day will reach its full potential.

Until then she is satisfied with knowing, she said.

And all at once ..

I am a bottomless

pit of emotions.

Be careful not to fall in.

There are

distances that

can be bridged

with time

and trains or

planes or

cars.

Then there are

those

that require

only desire.

IMHO

Plastic eggs don't grow on trees.
Please remove them.
ASAP

talk, talk, talk, talk, talk

Today I was looking through blogs and started reading someone's thoughts on existentialism. Certainly an interesting and blog-worthy topic. But it was about 10 paragraphs long and after reading the first 3, the words all began to run together and I stopped caring if she was trying to make a point. I finally gave up but it took me a few moments to convince myself that I'm not dumb, just lacking sufficient attention to get what she meant.

I've spent the last hour writing and re-writing 387 paragraphs and 33 million words trying to make a point about all this talking and saying and communicating. Everyone talks too much and says too little including me. I'm going to turn off my cell, computer and brain and retreat into my daydreams.

So hush.

The Journey

She had been walking for an eternity. She stopped at times, struggling to untangle the leash they had used to confine her. She reached the field, then the pond, then the dock. She sat. She had reached the end of her journey ... and herself.

Adventures of a Pea Brain

Have you lost your little pea brain?
Yes, yes of course I have.
It went to Oz to find my heart.
Which was lured there by the glittery red shoes.
On her journey, the pea encountered
Three men in a tub who
Hid the brain from the Evil Witch
Under some mattresses where
The princess slept.
She tossed and turned until she found the pea
And took it to town, where she sold it to
Jack and the Old Lady who lived in the Shoe
With a gazillion kids. The economy is bad
And Jack has been out of work. So they
Were very hungry and craved peas.
Jack planted the pea and sat down next to
Mary and found her not at all contrary.
Jack and Mary tended the pea brain
Along with the Silver bells and Cockle shells
(although Jack had not seen those before)
My pea brain grew into a pumpkin-size
Pea where Peter put the Wife and things
He didn't want to keep.

My brain's been busy.
Excuse me while I try to find my heart.

Just for this day

The thermostat says 60 but I'm colder than I ever remember being. There is a lump in my throat like a pill caught sideway. My chest hurts as if something very large has taken up residence. I can't catch my breath. I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself. What happened? Who is that and why is she looking at me? Tears are streaming down my face but I don't think I'm crying. I'm completely unprepared for what's next. From outside myself, the world seems perfect. Inside my head everything is so incredibly wrong. I am unable to put things in any sensible perspective. I wish sleeping or eating or running or talking or music or art or water or trees or SOMETHING would put things right. Nothing has worked.

Fix it?

ugh. grr. rawr.

i will ramble today.
i'm not capitalizing or using appropriate grammar.
i'm tired from staying up all night.
i'm frustrated because i'm tired from staying up all night.
i dislike being the only one who thinks an argument is frustrating.
i have to read these chapters in 'of mice and men' and start my final paper.
but i don't want to because i'm tired and frustrated and a little angry.
distance sucks and right now its too hard to deal with.
ugh.
grr.
rawr.

i think i'll go outside.
it's windy. and chilly.
but i'll climb a tree.
and listen to the birds make noises.
and watch the grass try to grow in the shade.
and pull new leaves off the trees and then strip them down the veins.
they're kind of amazing .. trees and leaves and grass and birds and
some of the other stuff that's outside.
the best thing is, its not in here where i have to behave or fail.
ugh .
grr.
rawr.

today has epic fail written all over it.

Girl Stuff

I dislike writing about typical girl stuff so much that I've started this post four times and I couldn't get past this sentence.

Then I went for a run.

And it occurred to me.

I'm breathless.

'nuff said.

Want Fries With That?

Despite my threats from yesterdays blog, I'm not going to talk about my socks, string cheese or fruit. But this morning, as I was complaining to someone about doing all the silly things I had to do today, a thought occurred to me about life. Well, not life in general. My life really. Or anyone my age who is facing graduation and all the decisions that come with it.

The first 5 or 6 years of your life are spent learning how to walk, talk, feed yourself, use the bathroom appropriately and dress yourself. There are probably some other manner type things thrown in there but that's basically it. Then you go to school. There you learn how to color inside the lines with big fat crayons (how ridiculous is that!), cut with blunt edge scissors, read, write, obey rules, and play well with others. And we spend 13+ years .. month after long month doing that. And why? I mean, there must be a reason. Supposedly it's so we can be educated and better citizens and contribute to society in some meaningful way. And that may be true. And it's now April of my senior year and there is an end in sight. Two more months and I'm done!! woot!! But wait.. it's not over yet.

Because somewhere into the 12th year of this education, "they" begin preparing you for the next phase. ACT's, SAT's, college catalogs, campus visits, and finally applications and essays. Hours upon hours of your senior year is spent filling in blanks and making decisions. I actually only applied to 5 schools. Each one for different reasons. They are all far enough away from home that I'll have to live there. Dorm living could be a whole blog rant so I'll save that for another day. Still application to 5 schools was a lengthy process!

Then finally about a month ago, I started getting letters of acceptance. Phew! Relief. I might not be doomed to a life of asking "would you like fries with that". But now more decisions. Acceptance to only one choice, might have left me feeling unwanted but the process of selection would have been avoided. I still haven't made a final decision but it occurred to me today when I was complaining about the never-ending boredom of obligation and responsibility that I have done all of this for the privilege of paying an institution $40,o00+ a year to work my butt off for the next four years. Irony.

Story of my life.