The best thing in my life is Nutella.

The funny thing about life is that, well, it's funny actually. Sometimes blatantly so and other times in a dark, morbid sort of way. Then there's my life which is just a really strange blend. Here's a preview. I'll take it from the day before Thanksgiving which was two weeks ago.

• Narrowly avoided a high speed head on collision. Honestly, if we would have hit there's a strong possibility that we'd all have been killed.
• Out of state looking for apartments for a job I had lost all feeling for and had to make an emergency dental visit. No real determination there although the idea of fractured teeth was a possibility and I got antibiotics.
• Computer crash #1.
• Received full time offer from employer - didn't see that one coming.
• Weighed the pros and cons of each job until I couldn't see straight then declined the initial job in Pittsburgh.
• Computer crash #2.
• A few nights ago I was flossing and my gold inlay flew out of my tooth (one that was bothering me... cooincidence?!). Considering there isn't much left of the tooth (hence the chunk of gold to support it) I literally couldn't go to sleep that night or my grinding and clenching would have snapped the remaining portion off at the gumline. Of course this happened right after I took my sleeping pill... eesh.
• Got another emergency visit and had the space filled with this uber-strong material until I get my crown.
• Cell phone begins to fry.
• Decided to see if I could reinstate my employment in Pittsburgh because insurance started on the first day - I mean, in light of all this dental stuff.
• Uber-strong tooth material breaks after only 12 hours. Oh, come ON.
• Emails back and forth revolving around reinstating the position while beginning to search apartments yet again. Remaining time was filled with four messages to the dentist to help with the tooth.
• The company in Pittsburgh does not want to extend the offer again (either I pissed them off or they have someone) and I have yet to get a call back from my dentist.

Oh, and my mother is having a well-deserved meltdown but I cannot help but feel I pushed her in that direction. She was going to come with me to Pittsburgh to see if she could find a job there. Because I'm not going she can't. It's like I've let her down and I can hear it in her voice even though she doesn't verbalize it. I was her shot at the only hope she's seen in a long, long time and it appears that I screwed it up. It's terrible to feel that you've let down such an important person.

I don't think I'm in a good mental place at this moment.

The lights are out anyway

There's a part of me that has spent many recent hours wondering. About various things really. Life has once again taken a turn. Could be good, might be bad, all I know is that its a turn. This turn is the end result of a 'toss it to the wind' decision made with my back to the wall, a numbed mind and too few hours sleep.

For the love of the gods, can someone explain to me what it is that can happen to a person that makes them forget all they know? Not the things. Not the wheres and whys and hows, but the basic things that most would call instinct. That inate ability to save yourself. To choose those things which will keep us heading forward in an attempt to grow and prosper. What is it that happens to us when we lose that? How deep were the cuts that let it bleed out? How does it take so much of us with it without us knowing. Deceptively, there isn't even a crimson pool at our feet.

It is a sort of shameful thing, really. There isn't even much pain that goes along with it. I think there is fear; the stagnant cloud of paralyzing indecision sees to it that there is only cycling thought and an absence of almost all other feeling, so I don't know how much of the fear comes through. Nothing comes through but the clock keeps ticking and you should panic but no panic comes if you aren't able to feel the sense of urgency. Apathy would have been an upgrade.

Given all the treetop highs and intense lows that have the ability to level me emotionally, this is new territory for me. I typically feel quite alot and this absence, even when this is what I've wished for during various emotional crises, is a saturatingly suspicious thing. Cloying yet completely invisible and evasive as a politician's promise. I'm not sure I've ever felt so much nothing. And I needed to feel something during this time. Unfortunately it was denied to me. Even worse, there are those that would say that I was denying it to myself. I'd only partially agree.

My theory is that we all live our lives and everything leaves an imprint. Over time, they layer like encrypted films in varying densities over different aspects of our psyche. The name of your best friend in first grade, the way your high school teacher wore too much cologne, words from a vitriolic relationship, guilt from that lie you told, your first roller coaster ride, yesterday's breakfast, all of it... it doesn't go away. But even these wisps build until they are opaque. That's when they cut out the light and you have no connection with yourself as you were once familiar. When enough of these things build in any particular sector of your life, doorways get blocked. The silence of it is enough to chill your soul when you take into consideration how badly something must have hurt you, once or over time, to completely go into self-protection mode and deny you such a simple thing. Feeling.

There is no way to know what sort of effect life's day to day encounters will have but we all try to deal the best we can. When it becomes overload, we succumb. And there is no apologizing to yourself or anyone else for your lack of ability to feel. It may come back, you may have to reroute, but the one thing that is certain is that the pathway is blocked for a reason and to force the pathway open is courting disaster.

So I didn't. And I won't. I'll wait to rebuild and I'll cope and I'll go on living my life the best way I know how. It's all any of us can do.

Shit

My pc is trying to die, I was almost killed, I start my new job in 13 days and have no place to live. Shall I continue on with the fact that I had to make an emergency dental appointment? They aren't sure but they think I cracked my teeth under the gumline.

*sigh* what is there to say?

It's time I came clean. I can't live a lie....

Look, I'm just going to say it.

Mike Mills rocks. His voice is way better than Michael Stipe's yet his scrawny behind has represented R.E.M. for decades. I like Mike Mills. I like him better than Mr. Stipe. Although, truth be told, I have nothing against Mr. Stipe, I just resent the fact that Mike Mills takes a backseat to him. Perhaps he wants it that way.

Personally, vocally speaking, I think Mills is the bees knees. Maybe it was the aneurysm that made me feel that way? His, not mine. But then again, no; I secretly swooned pre-aneurysm.

I know, I know - I'm always rooting for the underdog.

Well aware I'm rambling but to be honest, this is seriously a thing I have. I mean the Mills thing. It was bound to come out some day. But we all know that I ramble to, well, pretty much I ramble for any reason. Too many partial throughts trying to reach the escape hatch simultaneously.

Lately I've been learning that I have a main Avoidance Switch and when I trigger it, even I have to fight to turn it off. Mental paralysis. And I don't say this with any amount of humor, but it's like fleeting autism, only I do have the control to turn it on. It's like a safely mechanism when I feel pressure. I go into myself and focus on everything but the wombat in the room, (I like wombats more than elephants) doing everything to cast attention on everything but that wombat.

I'll be gone again a few more days. No, I've not been committed (someone lacks judgement there...) I just have things to do. I'll fill you in later and will make rounds and blow kisses. Or throw punches; I'm not so predictable anymore. ;)

Sometimes I wish I had a wombat. I'd name him Mike Mills. Finest hour, indeed.

A bit like the white rabbit

Yeah, I'd say that's what I'm feeling like.

Found a starved, sickly, stray kitten; nursed her back to health and got her some vet care. Last night she went to her new 7700 sq ft, two million dollar home. Happy ending.

Had to rush Gram to the ER Saturday night but given many possibilities, it was ok. Hemorrhagic cystitis. She was on the mend in two days. Happy ending.

I now have three employment possibilities, none of which have a clear sign telling me to take it. And the clock is ticking. Loudly. See, I committed myself to one then froze. They don't know that part yet. It's no wonder I drug myself heavily to get some sleep. I can't make this decision and it very well may be the death of me.

Out again for the next three or four days so I'll catch up when I get back.
xoxo

When the lights come on this whole place gets ugly

There are times in your life when something isn't quite right, no matter what it is. We vehemently insist that we can't put our finger on it but know that we must in order to find any peace. And so we set off on a journey of self discovery to loose the demons in our head, name the beasts of our past, and quiet the cranial chaos in a valiant attempt to move forward.

Know what? We're a bunch of schmucks. Yep, all of us. You, me, hell, especially me at this point. I've learned why my current dilemma is so magnified. No one sees it as catastrophic except me. That right there should have to told me that logic played no part in it.

After endless hours of thinking, torturing my psyche in an attempt to let the apparently repressed experience surface then purge it from existence, thoughts of suicide dancing in my head... after literally tormenting myself in just about every possible way, then persecuting myself because I didn't know why I felt that way, it happened.

What? I got to the truth of the matter during a conversation with my mother. Not my shrink that I'd seen not two hours earlier, but my mother.

The conversation twisted. The conversation turned. Before I knew it, the conversation doubled back to show me where the problem was. I can't fully account for why I feel like I do, but now I'm at least aware of where it's stemming from. That's why all the logic in the world wasn't helping me. Why I'd think and think and ponder and try to rationalize. And I'd fail. It's all about something I feel, not about how I think. Damage has been done that I feel was my fault. If I'd only been better, tried harder, kept my mouth shut, denied my needs to better a circumstance that was never going to be worthy of me. Logic dictates otherwise, but thats what I seem to feel like.

You can rationalize those things, but how can you erase feeling? I thought I could use words and plans and lists and formulas to rescue myself from the pit I've found myself in but I can no more use that method to come to my answer than I could to explain the color blue.

My point is that when we tell ourselves that we don't know what the problem is or that something isn't right, that's only partially true. You can live with yourself being miserable, which can serve you depending on the circumstance, or you can write it out or talk it out. Just keep talking, even if you're alone; you'll be surprised with what you come up with if you are willing to drop your barriers with yourself. It isn't easy.

Today I was honest. I saw that I was a self-proclaimed Atlas and having had my onus knocked off balance by circumstances around me, I live in fear of it happening again. That fear causes a paralyzing inaction. And I'm Atlas for crissakes, who fucks with Atlas? I'm not used to it. Even though the first shifting of the axis wasn't my fault, I live as though it were. Logic dictates one thing, my feelings another.

Perhaps now I can begin to know what part of me I'm fighting against even though I don't know why I'm feeling like this. The thing is, I didn't learn anything new today, I simply permitted myself to see it for what it was. It was in there the whole time but I opted to sanction prolonged suffering.

The rubble of the human mind is a strange place indeed. And I am a monkey in a long line.

Ugly

This was sent to me many months ago and I'd like to post it here. This isn't something I wrote but something I read from time to time and, of course, I end up crying. There is nothing else I could say right now that would have anywhere near the meaning that this has...

Ugly

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.
To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs. Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one ugly cat!"

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end. Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front.

As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought. Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear- Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain. Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful.

He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for. Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, or beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be "Ugly".

Author Unknown

Images of sorrow, pictures of delight - things that go to make up a life...

Today would have been my grandfather's something-or-other birthday. Ninety, ninety one? I'm not really sure because there are three accounts of the year in which he was born. Record keeping left alot to be desired back then. He passed away when I was 21 so that was, what, 16 years ago? To this day, I have never had a dream of him and that bothers me. Fiercely.

Lately I've seen alot of anniversaries of sorts, like my grandfather's birthday. But recently I've come upon one full year that I quit smoking. Intermingled with that is one full year since I left Pittsburgh and so shortly, two years that I'd left Ohio (to go to Pittsburgh). Milestones everywhere. Some much easier to face than others.

I suppose though that if we lack milestones, we're dead, and that is kind of crummy. For as much grief as this past year has given me, and it has, it's all a part of life in general. If I had nothing bad, how could I fully appreciate the good? And damn if I wouldn't be a dull person. So much of who I am is my ability to find the silly in the sinister, humor in the heart wrenching and folly in the plain ol' fucked up. Sometimes I fail, but I always go back to that.

Today, I'm just realizing that it's all part of a whole. Tomorrow I may not see it that way and may be bitching and rebeling over nothing important but that's ok. Because for this moment, I know that there can't be one without the other. I'm not so removed from reality as to not realize that although my life may be a hideously written, poorly casted, low-budget three ring circus at times, it is livable.

For now, I know that. For now, that's ok.

Something that I'm 'for'

It's actually taken me a full week to write this post but I have my reasons. Maybe I'm still processing the event, which is very likely.

See, for some people, they make plans and go about those plans unimpeded. That's not the way things are for me, but I'm ok with that; it's just my life, that's all. When something that is important to me does finally work, I can't help but to be in awe. I almost take on this very silent (speaking may break the spell), afraid to blink (it may be gone), almost shy demeanor.

Last Friday, that was me all the way. I finally got to see Matthew Good perform. Even now I'm in a bit of a hazy state thinking about it. I've followed his music for years then went on to read his blog. This is the blog I always link to and I do so for several reasons. Of course you can check out his music, random photos he's taken, and read posts penned by contributing authors as well as take in his views spanning music, observations of human nature, culture, global politics, humanitarianism, and whatever else comes along. This is a boy with alot to say. Which is not to say that I agree with everything, but much of it gives me a new perspective.

There is something about him. The first time I heard him I was hooked. His music has gone through changes throughout the years as have many things in his life. He speaks candidly and in some way, it almost makes you feel as if you are part of this real friendship even though logic says that you aren't. It's almost as if he can't help drawing you in but ultimately keeps most things at a distance. When I learned that he was recently diagnosed as bipolar, how could I not laugh just a little?! Perhaps this is why his personality has appealed to me for so long.

When the fog cleared and the lights came up and Matthew Good was standing less than a dozen feet away from me, I think I was stiff as a board. This person was now undoubtedly real and for a while had this off detatched look in his eyes. The kind that makes you think something is wrong or that they are just going to up and leave. But he stayed. And he played. And sang. Solo acoustic. His voice has the clarity, strength and presence to go head to head with any studio recording. I was blown away.

He spent some time just going back and forth with audience comments and it would seem that he also has a very bold, silly, but dry sense of humor. For a few moments, all the intensity that he harbors just melted away and he was visibly happy just goofing off for a few minutes. And there we were, just two people between us. I was hoping that some of his 'whatever it is' would make it's way over to me and rub off on me.

This wasn't 'just going to a concert'. This was me finally getting to have the experience of sharing time with a person that I greatly admire. To hear his silliness. To see, when he sang, which songs meant the most to him. To be a part of something orchestrated by someone who I can say I look up to. In some ways, this was a defining moment.

I'm trying to make it to one of the shows in Canada now. No one knows what will happen in the future. He may never tour again. I may lose my hearing. We don't know. So I'll willing to spend what I have to make it to just one more show. Momentarily, I wasn't merely 'happy', I was literally taken away to a place I thought I'd all but forgotten how to get to.

Roadside death trap commentary

I'm not knocking anyone here or criticizing how people choose to mourn but I just need to say that I hate, HATE, it when someone dies in an accident and the family/friends build some roadside memorial.

First, I acknowledge your loss and am truly sorry. Selfishly though, from this end, it seems a bit irresponsible of you to erect such a lavish display. Seeing this takes my focus off the road by distraction - it puts me in danger and those around me. Possibly to end in a car crash, which is apparently what you are making a statement about in the first place.

Next, I can't be the only person with erratic emotions on the road. We've talked about the suicide thing and when I see that, it makes me consider just getting it over and done with as I think my car would play a role. Now, if I'm not prepared to go that day, I really don't think you have any right to push me closer to that precipice. You mourn the loss of your loved one due to an accident. My family would mourn my loss due to what almost seems like selfishness on the part of those that insist upon distracting drivers.

And furthermore, when you put little stuffed animals, balloons and windmills, I understand it's a child that was lost. Again, that loss must be terrible. However, it does not give you the right to distract a driver, who may in turn crash and lose their life, leaving behind a small child. Or to make a parent who has just suffered the loss of their child suffer even more. Look, no one is telling you what to do but personally, I think someone should. People have cemeteries, crypts, churches, all sorts of places to memorialize an individual. Most newspapers have a memorial page that runs. Hell, plant a tree. THOSE are appropriate ways to show your loss, not by irresponsibly and selfishly thinking only of your situation while not even examining the ramifications of what could happen due to your limited-sight actions.

I am no one important when it comes to your life. I cannot tell you how or what to feel. I wish you'd not had a loss to endure, but you have. Why would you make it harder every day when you must drive by the scene of the accident? You'll never forget it whether it's decorated or not.

It may seem like a tribute to you but for others, it is a huge distraction. Not that long ago I was driving when it was dark and rainy. A simple trick of the lights had me swerving to miss something that had run in front of me. I made it out of the spin to learn that it was the stretching shadow of another new roadside memorial.

So tell me, if I die because of your choice to put that up, will you erect one for me as well? Would you even feel an iota of guilt?

I'm a window...

come be the rain.


Life is a strange thing, don't you think? Because I do. And I mean, that's all that really matters. Not smug, I mean that should be all that really matters to any of us - our own personal perceptions. It's funny how that shifts from moment to moment. What was once important isn't even worth being retained in the old memory bank any longer. Then there are those things that come at you from left field and shatter every appropriate response you've ever held. Often I really like those things. Those are the things that bump the less important items off the chart and restructure what is there. Interestingly, these things don't have to be of epic magnitude. Sometimes the most subtle ones have the greatest impact. Perhaps it is all about seeing, really seeing what is in front of you whether you understand it or not. There are reasons that we forget things even though I believe it's all still there somewhere. Like a simple passage in a giant tome on a bottom shelf in the basement of the Library of Congress. Just because it is out of immediate circulation does not mean it has ceased to exist.



Meet my friend who has taught me some new ways of looking at things...he's become a sort of sidekick lately. He accompanied me to Buffalo when I went to see Matthew Good the other night. I didn't really know if he'd be going or not and to be honest, I never knew when he'd just plain disappear on me because Alfred really isn't one for talking. But he came along and other than a few short stints playing 'hang glider' it was nice to have him along. I've taken to telling him he's a 'good little puppy' which is entirely ridiculous because he's not a dog. So we made it to Buffalo and back. I think that's actually as far as he's ever gone in his life. My friend Erica was there, too, but she's been on longer trips so I don't think she was overly excited about Alfred doing a roundtrip to Buffalo. After I came back to my mom's last night, I said good night to Alfred but made him promise to smile for just one picture by my car - symbolizing his great adventure.



He may not be a big talker but I've really learned alot from this guy. When the time comes that he spins that final line and jumps for it, I'm assuming my reaction will be similar to the Wiiiillssoooon moment in Castaway.


I'm a window...
come break in.

Beam me up Scotty

Tomorrow I see Matt Good. There really isn't enough that I can say about that. I can't believe it's here yet it still seems a world away.

The interview went well. I'm still conflicted. Either way I sit and wait.

Did I mention I think I was abducted by aliens? I have a block of time that I cannot remember at all. It's really freaking me out because the majority of the time I was driving. Not one bit of a memory. Before it, ok - after that, fine. The 20ish minutes between are a full on blank.

A goal within reach

Quick post because I gotta pee. Seriously.

Barring thoroughly spontaneous renegade evil-doer thoughts, all suicidal ideation will most likely be delayed for another, oh, eight days or so. I'm going to see Matthew Good on the 5th! Finally! I've waitied too long to see him to die just before. Hey, we all have different motivators.

Also, I have an interview next week. In Pittsburgh. I don't even know what to say to myself let alone anyone else. It is on the 41st floor, though. Big change from working two floors underground. I'll let you know how it goes.

Duty calls.

My life was a model and I didn't even know it

So the funny thing is that remember the meds my doc gave me so I can prevent an early controllable demise? Yeah, well guess who is jumpy as hell and has been 'organizing' the same space for three days? HiManiamynameisLiVEwiRerememberme? Ofcourseyoudoaswearewell acquaintedandgobackmanyyears! Itskindoffunnyhowweranintoeachother
thistimeisntit? Imeanmydocactuallymadeithappen. SonowIcansitupall
nightponderingeverythingintheuniversebutitshouldbeokbecauseIhave youforcompanyandwecantalkallallallallallnight! Yayyyy! {insane clapping of hands}

I mean really, what suicide prevention tactic school did this guy attend?! Think about it. So you have a girl (I'm ageless...) with compulsions and the potential for obsessive behavior on a regular day that happens to swing her hips to the dance of bipolarity. Life sucks, things are grim and she has suicidal ideation (really a 180 for the girl, very out of character). Her meds are alright but still, something is wrong. Hey wait, I know!! Let's give her some antidepressants so it can boost her so far that she goes through the roof and turns manic. Fabulous. Now this way she won't just slam her car into a bridge overpass but she'll wash and hand wax it, decorate it with streamers, light some molatov cocktails, in gorgeous symmetry of course, and fasten them to her car so she really goes out with a bang! Of course prior to that she'll fasten a number of balloons on the giant concrete pillar in concentric circles by color with a prize chart listed according to which balloon the car smashes into - most likely she'd fashion a ramp out of spare parts from highway trash to boost her up to the red bullseye level from a nice, high speed. See...bad idea to make me manic with meds. And it will take longer to get the mania of my system. What in the hell was he thinking?

Anyway, so I'm done with the school. The director told me he wanted me to stay the extra week or two that I'd offered to train the new person. Well, there was not one word. He didn't tell the staff. He didn't so much as tell me to piss off. It was just as if the next day would be business as usual. So let me understand - I give notice on August 2, solidify my date of September 13 a week and a half later, then offer to stay another week or two and somehow manage to come out as the bad guy?! WHAT?! I don't feel good about it because I'm uncertain what will happen if I need them for a reference. On the other hand I'm glad I'm done with it. That has to be one of the strangest groups of people that ever lived.

So my life was a model.... for the movie Kill Me Later and I had no idea all along. You should see it - good dark comedy. Follow it up with Very Bad Things. Good times.

Here we have the latest nail art... contradictory words/images for a bipolar gal, fitting, eh? I do admit to adding the fake shiny gem thingys... Ok Ginger Doll - your turn! I'll even share my little skulls with you!

Ok, now stop staring at the crazy girl. ;)

~

Mah Nellz

Here's a little explanation that might mean nothing to you in the scheme of things but it may disspell myths and let you know a little more about why I'm been so absent/sporadic of late.

• I no longer have privacy; I'm actually rather protective of you all and don't want your stuff sitting on the screen waiting to be seen by someone for whom it was not intended. Which is idiotic because all of out stuff is out there for everyone to see. Thing of it is, you get to know a person to a certain extent and become protective. Or maybe I don't want them seeing my comments to you. Either way, if I could pee around the perimeter of my pc and mark it as my territory that would suit me just fine.


• One of the reasons I don't have much privacy is that although I'm not fully on 'suicide watch', I should be. The doc gave me an Rx and a month to get my shit together. How exactly does one 'get together' the urge to drive over a bridge? Anyway, I don't think they have frappuccinos in the psych ward so I'd rather not go.


• Lots of time is spent sitting and reading. I'd knit but no fool would trust me with knitting needles. That and I don't know how to. Living amid chaos it's so important that I stay calm. I very recently had an episode where if my blood pressure would have gone much higher, they'd have taken me out on a stretcher. I've never had an elevated blood pressure and considering that it has not fully retreated to it's norm, I'm working on being mellow. Failing mostly, but working on it. Oh, and I've been doing my nails. Ha. That sounds so girly. But I put my time and effort into coming up with different color schemes and patterns and it is a nice distraction. Yes, those are my real nails in a chrome, disco-ball-glitter-pink, and black color palette.

• In a matter of weeks, both jobs will be gone and I'll have just a part time one with no insurance. Major. Source. Of. Stress.


• In reference to that part time job, I'm out of town and away from my pc for three days each week, typically. No house of my own, no job of my own, living here, staying there throughout the week. Any wonder I feel lost?


• Not to mention the fact that I was supposed to be out of here and not living another deadly winter here. I see the first signs of the seasonal changes and fight off panic attacks. If I see a snowflake I'm sure I'll spontaneously combust.

So it's not that I've forgotten about anyone; far from it. I'm just being pulled in so many directions and not having a pc half the time is really cramping my style. (I have style?!) As soon as I can I want to get back to visiting everyone regularly and having the time to leave comments. Perhaps even post more than once every 10 days, or whatever I've been doing.

Hope everyone is doing well... miss ya

Nothin' but the dawg in me

I was not about to waste my limited time on my pc writing about M. Vick and this insanity revolving around the dog fights for which he appears to be fully responsible. I say 'appears' because isn't that our way - innocent until proven guilty? Well, fine. I'll play. But his situation isn't what this post is about. I will say that I think he deserves to have his testicles removed via his nostrils, though. Along with anyone that gets a friggin boner watching that mess. I'm all for everyone having their own opinions but in this case, not on my blog. I don't care to hear anyone defend that individual or his behavior or his 'sport'. My blog, my rules.

That being said, I want to point out to you that I do actually have, well, a point. M. Vick had, up until recently, been seen as a young, healthy, attractive, athletic, successful sports figure. He was an inspiration to many and a hero to some. I guarantee he was the guy alot of 'armchair quarterbacks' wanted to be. Perhaps until now.

Completely separate from fame, success or wealth, there are always those people that seem to exemplify what we want; who we want to be. Who we gauge ourselves against and feel we fall short of measuring up to. The ones we are embarrassed to say have no similarities to ourselves.

Point is, maybe it's a good thing there are no similarities. Anyone can portray a role. It is called acting. Acting can hide that dark side with an almost impenetrable veil. It's there, we just don't see it. And here we sit glorifying these people when in some cases, they deserve to be vilified.
We needn't be shocked when we learn these thing. The 'haves' are just as susceptible as the 'have nots'.

Don't fool yourself kiddies. Think for yourself. People are not always who you think they are; they are who they want you to think they are.

The boy come home

It's not that I haven't read the comments, it's that I haven't been able to properly reply. But I thank you for writing them. It's been a little tough lately and this moment is no different.

Yesterday was spent en route to a funeral home in Pennsylvania. My cousin met with a tragic end and I wanted to be there for the family. He was diabetic and apparently his blood glucose levels dropped to a dangerous level. While he was driving. He lost consciousness and went head to head with a coal truck and lost. It took the ever-popular 'jaws of life' two hours to untangle the mess and extract him. *They had to actually use a cap to keep his skull in one piece when transferring him. At least that means he went quickly.

That's why I chose this name for the blog. Things change that quickly. Although I hate being reminded, we all need to be from time to time. I'll get back to you later on the rest of things. For now, I have so much to consider.

For the record, Pat was one of the truly good guys. When people say "Guys like that don't exist anymore", they just didn't know him. He was a wonderful blend of kindness, integrity, loyalty and so much more.


* His brother is a funeral director in the area and spoke with the coroner/police/medical examiner and relayed the information to the family. None of that is supposition.

In and out of consciousness, neither is much fun

Hmmm. Ok then. I have my CD. I also have Matthew Good concert tickets on the way. That is my new goal, October 5th. I think I can manage two months. Then again this is coming from someone who by all rights should be on suicide watch. Kind of sick but I think I place a higher value on seeing him than I do on my own existence. Or lack of existence. No plans, just saying that if something were to happen I wouldn't go out of my way to change the course, you know? I just have to buy Sour Cherry lipstick first. (You won't get that.) And see Matt Good.

Other news? Severely pinched nerve for a week; infuckingtense pain, ongoing. As soon as the papers come through it's official that I lost my job at the hospital because of my knee surgery. I quit at the school, I just haven't given a specific date. Had an out of state job presented but it keeps slipping away. Cousin in the hospital; major surgery, cancer suspected. Off for more neurological/
mitochondrial testing. Oh yeah, and I'm nuts. Meh, what are you gonna do about it?

If I crawl out of this hole, I'll visit you. I'm headed toward becoming a hermit that comes out yearly and communicates by thumping a stick or something. If I surpass my expiration date.

FYI: Let it be known that I'm still predominantly anti-serif.

My vow

I will live long enough to hear this.

It ships out of Canada tomorrow. Receiving this will be like fitting the square peg in the square hole. As long as I have the time to soak this in, I don't care what happens after that.

Hospital music. Kind of ironic. His healing is just in time for my unraveling.

Elton John had no friggin clue

Saying 'the bitch is back' is an understatement akin to saying Noah built the ark on a slightly damp day. For real.

My nastiness is out and I can't reel it in. Mainly because I don't want to; I want to let people know exactly what I think of them. I'm tired of catering to theoretically capable people who must struggle daily to remember how to tie their shoes or buckle their pants. I'm always coddling and reassuring and explaining. At this point I'm just more comfortable saying, "Look, you fell because you're too fucking stupid to remember how to tie your shoes and if, IF you manage to do it, it's such a pathetic attempt that it ends in disaster and you have no one to blame because I've guided you a thousand times. Learn to be a grown up for chrissakes and put on your big-boy pants."

Why isn't it a crime to be a lazy, intentionally inept fool that wants everything handed to them then turns around and criticizes those of us that actually try to help their sorry asses?!?! What? Oh yeah - half of the world would be found guilty. Dumb fuckers.

I'm guessing I'm not going to win alot of congeniality awards.

Things in time

Sometimes when we say we don't know who we are anymore, well, that might not be true. Perhaps we know but aren't comfortable with what we see. Or maybe we simply don't know.

My nails have grown long again and look quite nice. But I can't make a proper fist or blow my nose without fear.

The dynamic of a family changes when one member has end-stage cancer. It is awkward but it would be disrespectful to pretend you didn't notice. That insults the severity of the situation.

For as far as we have come, the politics of racism still touch our lives.

There are some people you know will remember things about you. There are those people you expect will forget things. It kind of shakes you up when they switch roles.

Birthdays can make you feel all sorts of things. Like an exaggerated 'headache' that keeps you at home because you just want to save someone money who can't afford to take you to dinner.

Books are amazing things. They may be the closest I come to 'doing everything' in my lifetime.

The word blessed grates on my nerves. Saying you were 'so blessed to get that parking space' while raising your hand to the heavens is overkill. You were lucky. Period. Being blessed has it's place and time but people can't distunguish. And it most likely involves more than a parking space.

Cutting your own hair is pretty much never a good idea.

Sometimes all the knowledge you have access to still isn't nearly enough.

Most days, kitties are a cure-all. Or in this case, kiddies.

I saw your tongue; it licked my heart

There's something I'm noticing about myself that is kind of puzzling, mildly amusing, and also manages to register on the 'sad/pathetic' scale. Now, I've heard people say this about themselves but there has always been something that sets my version apart from theirs. Not that I'm the only person in the world that is like this, but I'm the only person I know that takes it to this extremity. I don't do it consciously but on some level, I'm doing it intentionally. So I am my own worst enemy in trying to protect myself. Or I have a bizarre pshchological/emotional S&M streak a mile wide.

Here's the thing. The only guys I seem to be interested in are the ones that I can't have. They are unattainable for one reason or another. And it's not that they choose me, I choose them. Well, that's not entirely true, let me rephrase that. I don't consciously choose them but there is a part of me that hones in on this 'not available' thing and that's all it takes. Honestly, you could line up triplets and I'd be attracted to the one that is out of bounds, so to speak. Often this means married, which oddly is probably the thing that attracts me anyway. Not them being married but an attitude that has been cultivated through marriage. A guy I work with is like this. He's maybe 10 years older than I am, married, and has this amazingly dry, dark, caustic, quick wit. That's the main draw. But he also has this laid back air that sort of says to the world, 'You? I'm not trying to impress you. I'd have to acknowledge you further before I decide to impress you. I do what I do for me, simply put.' It's not arrogance, either. I equate this to a female that is in a relationship so she has no need to get all dolled up to run to the store - she's got what she wants so she has no need to impress anyone else. Otherwise you know most girls put on makeup to walk to their mailbox. By this guy at work having no need to impress anyone paired with that wit... I was drawn to him, most certainly. And in a strong way. None of it is physical, though.

There's also the other factor I adore. That is brains. No, not in a jar on the shelf, although that does have it's time and place, which usually revolves around a Far Side cartoon. Anyway. My neurologist. I just had an appointment this week. The first time I saw him it was all the 'get to know ya' thing. Then we had numerous phone conversations about test results and such but he seemed more relaxed with each one and I think that's normal as familiarity builds. So I go to this appointment and here's this thin, pale baby-faced doc that I've seen already and spoken to at length. But something is different. He knows of my medical background and elaborates extensively using precise medical terminology. If I don't understand something, he breaks it down a bit more but always goes back to doc-speak. But now, he's also able to add levity to the mix. So here in front of me is this uber-intelligent guy that goes from professional status to quietly breaking into a huge grin and semi-witty remark. It's the low-key intelligence that does it. Switch gears to humor and I'm sold. But of course, I'm not. He's married. And I'm not looking to hook up with a doctor. His intelligence could come from being a micro biological fertilizer analyst, math whiz, you name it. See, I'm a girl who would immediately fall for Stephen Hawking. Well, unless he's a huge jerk or something.

There's one guy I did fall for a long time ago. He is probably still the gold standard. But six years later, no one has ever come close. Before I met him, I'd never felt that close to any guy. Did I love him? I don't know. I think I did but I really didn't know how, so I told myself I didn't. My history is fucked up at best so it's something I never learned how to do. Joe was smart in the way that he had common sense. He loved fun, could laugh at himself, and was a very open person once he trusted you. The one thing he could never get past was his hatred toward his ex-wife. It was the undercurrent that ran below every surface. No matter how much we shared, there was always a little blonde-haired wedge between us, and she was completely out of the picture. He didn't outwardly want it that way but I think there was a part of that resentment that he harbored that served him. In some way. So, with me being about 8 months pre bipolar disorder diagnosis I was in the most unstable emotional place but I didn't know it. I just thought that's how I felt. It was, but magnify it a zillion times, twist it, reverse it, wrap it in a hallucinogen and that's the version I had. If I'd known my words would spark the beginning of the end I might have rethought them. He was the first real chance I took, being in a sort of normal relationship.

Six years later and I'm still struggling. Not with losing him, I mean, I hope he's tremendously happy. There was a time I wanted his happiness to include me, but if he's happy, I don't care who it includes. Since that time, I've distanced myself from guys. I think that the little positive knowledge that I had was used up there and that if that, the best I had, didn't work, then I'm just not sure what I can offer. But I think I want to, and yet I have thrown up barriers. These barriers include training myself to seek out unavailable men. If I think your wit is stellar or you have a fabulous mind or your creativity is off the charts, what good does it do me to be attracted to you if you are married, or moving to Guam next week, or are a fan of boy bands. None. I think I protectively choose these sorts so that I don't have to chance it again. Chancing it scares me because I honestly don't think I can take much more in before I start shooting from rooftops. And I'm not kidding.

So for wanting something so much, there's a part of me that keeps it away because if it doesn't go spectacularly well, I do fear the outcome. I write alot about how I feel in this blog because if I don't get some of it out, it'll consume me. But I still don't tell you the worst of it and none of us can ever adequately convey the depth of the emotion we feel because it is often all pervasive. I find it interesting that this self-protective mechanism is a sabotage of sorts.

Humans are a funny lot, eh?

I've been everywhere man, I've been everywhere...

Aside from the swollen feet/ankles/legs (sitting endlessly), repeatedly playing "How many seat protectors/layers of toilet paper must I put down before I can relax enough to even pee?" (I curse my hamster-bladder), and succumbing to the notion that eating overly processed food from a machine along the interstate is somehow a reasonable thing (that most likely leads to the swelling and peeing)... aside from that, I love to travel. Traveling is one of the few dreams I have. Or one of the few I have that I still believe in, I should say.

So, with next to no planning, I, er, planned a trip. Mom and I were to leave around 7am but truth be told, we could've left at 2am. We wanted to book a hotel for the first night which didn't come together until about midnight, maybe a little later, but it was right around the time we got directions to get to that first point. Bedtime was around, oh, 1am or so. I do use the term 'bedtime' loosely because neither of us slept more than an hour. It was a rough start but we made it there, got something quick to eat, made it to the room with daylight to spare and then planned a bit for the next day before going to bed.

We took a drive through Durham, NC which is home to many notable organizations including Duke University (chapel/grounds shown) and Research Triangle Park (RTP). Durham is known as the City of Medicine and I was in all my nerd-glory when I was driving through RTP past Bayer, GlaxoSmithKline, Syngenta and numerous other giants in the medical/scientific field. The city is not too big and it is clean. Well, compared to living up here in the rust belt, it's clean!

Next was Durham's sort of 'sister city' - Raleigh, NC. Now Raleigh provides a border for Research Triangle but is almost twice the size of Durham. Even so, there are very few large buildings. I mean maybe the tallest is, I don't know, 50 stories? I'm all for that. I don't dislike large buildings per se but they block out the light. And I have no real purpose for being in them, that's not the kind of life I lead. Like Durham, it was clean, great historic areas, charming architecture, rather inviting for the most part.

A few things I noticed about the south, and this isn't even the deep south... but it's clean. Oh, and people still have manners. I witnessed four things that almost made me fall over: a man asked me (a female) how to operate a particular gas pump (machinery...), another man pubicly and without shame asked for directions. At two different times, two different men held the door (I almost fainted) and when I had to go into a mall for something, not only did the associate tell me where the item was located, he walked there with me and helped me look. If any of you are from the north, you know that for the most part, those kinds of things are unheard of. Or they have been for at least the past 40 years. People here are generally rude. And I must admit that I loved all the flowers. There was one flowering tree, loved it but don't what it was, looked almost lilac-y; they were everywhere, even along the freeway along with hundreds and hundreds of lilies. Living in an often dreary location, I really appreciated that.

Off we sailed, so to speak, to Virginia. I wanted to hit Hampton, Chesapeake, Norfolk and Richmond. Funny thing is that we stayed about an hour away and while watching the 11p news, we learned that there had been either two or three 'bomb' issues in that area (complete with city block/road closures) along with an anthrax scare. Eesh. When we woke up a special bulletin alerted us that I-95 had been closed due to a collision between a car and a semi leaving the latter short by about 100 gallons of diesel fuel. It was all over the road and you were not permitted to pass. Hmm. Ok then, moving right along.... just not on I-95... we took the hint. We apparently weren't supposed to be up there. Literal roadblocks everywhere. So we took off and went back through Raleigh and Durham. Only later did we hear that there was also a tornado in VA. Hey, I consider it that the forces of nature were guiding me elsewhere.

I'd hoped they'd guide me to Charleston, SC but my mother said it was too far to go. I should have just driven anyway; it was my car after all. Charleston will hopefully be a place I can do a weekend trip flight to in the very near future. I want to go there in a bad way! Perhaps it's the combination of palm trees, that stunning architecture and the ocean. Anyway, we stayed in Mt. Airy for the night. Does anyone know what it's claim to fame is? I didn't either, but I quickly learned. It's Andy Griffith's home town! It's Mayberry for crissakes! They even have a Floyd's barber shop. How adorable. And... now this important. There, in Andy Griffith's home town, also where Chang and Eng lived, is the absolute best Mexican restaurant that I've ever visited. Half of the employees didn't speak more than maybe 20 words in english and perhaps they really did live up to the term 'authentic' that was noted there. I'm a fan of Mexican food and I've tried alot. We had a great meal at a place in Emporia, VA but even that paled in comparison to this place. I would have gladly become temporarily bulimic and continued eating but they were closing. I wonder if the restaurant ever made it into an episode of Matlock...

The next morning, we headed back to Ohio. A little south of Akron/Canton, my allergy related itching came back with a vengeance. Funny, I hadn't really realized it was gone until it came back. It was nice to get home and to not be living out of a car, but I wish I had more time there. All in all I had a positive impression. We'll see what happens next.

Traveling is great. Even with getting lost, unintentionally busting into a Sonic (how was I to know that you didn't go in, that they actually came to you in your car... sheesh!), and all those other little things that make you feel out of your element, traveling is wonderful. I haven't exactly been everywhere... but enough to make Johnny proud. ;)

The 'joy' of a welfare Christmas

It's kind of funny to think that after so much hard work you end up in a place that is no better than where you started. Or worse yet, a place that is actually brittle from lack of promise. Some would say that you have to make your own promise and hope. I'd like to hit those people. Hard. Although I still might do that, I'm contemplating a 4-5 day trip; mom might come along. Sometimes I think she offers because she doesn't trust what I'd do if left to my own devices. So, the purpose? I'm checking out new places, new cities. Again, some would say I'm running from as opposed to running to again. If I let myself think about it, I might draw the same conclusion. For the moment, though, I prefer not to think that hard. Update soon.

Hide the cutlery

The job is not mine.

Back to square one.

But I don't have the strength.

Will idiots ever stop breeding?

So I've been feeling all sorts of things lately knowing that even though it's not the end of the world, it still feels like shit. And then I read this. What in the hell is wrong with people? There are so many things wrong with this that I don't know where to begin.

I'm watching a friend's house for a couple days. Goof (her cat) says I must play with her NOW. I'll visit you all when I get back home.

What about a Do-Over?

Just got off the phone with the Director at the school and learned that my trouble student will in fact be returning. His reasons were lame, at best. So that triggered it. I told him that it just wasn't working for me. None of it. He was really surprised and tried to discuss it with me. I was maintaining composure and figured I shouldn't push it, so I told him we could talk later.

I hung up the phone, cried, and cursed the decisions I've made. When I realized I'd be making more decisions again soon, I cried even more.

I don't think I like today.

I thought I loved you; it was just how you looked in the light

Well. Remember the job I applied for? They want to interview me. Tomorrow. (And here I was so sure they filled the position as it had been removed from the job board...) I have so much to do between now and then. I'm truly not holding my breath, but I am excited over the idea that other options can surface. So back to Pittsburgh I go - for an interview. There's a part of me that is a little apprehensive in regard to how I'll feel when I go back there.

Some might consider me a little crazy. I might be one of them. =)

I'll update you, but until then, have a listen to two of my new favorites. They're really a little different, some sort of fusion going on. Check out the songs Chaos by Mute Math and Hang Me Up To Dry by Cold War Kids. Have a listen. You know you want to... Or just do it because I'm asking nicely.

Ok, off to find an interview outfit... What DO crazy people wear to interview these days?

I don't wait well.

Unless of course I've forgotten about whatever it is that I'm waiting on. In that instance a crummy memory is somewhat helpful.

For now I'm waiting for test results, waiting to see what happens with either job, and waiting for support and some sort of backing from my one boss. Perhaps I simply expect too much.

I applied for a job that would have been pretty cool I suppose but didn't hear anything. Not such a big deal really but I realized I was somewhat disappointed. I'm just not sure if that was because I didn't hear about the job or that it meant staying where I am now. Tough call.

So for now, I wait. And I'm just no good at it.

Do you even want to try to find me?

There was always a line in a song that intrigued me. Some dance to remember, some dance to forget. We can thank the Eagles for that bit of insight. For a long time I thought that was true. Now, although I see truth in it, I don't see it as the end of the line as far as options go.

I got some new CDs and of course, by the time I received them yesterday, I had almost completely forgotten what I'd ordered. Typical. The first one I played was INXS. Now, INXS and I go way back. Way. Listen Like Thieves, Don't Change, The One Thing; all of them finding freedom through my car windows yesterday. And do you know why I love those songs the most? Other than the fact that they are great songs... it's because I don't connect them to anything. With them, I don't remember, I don't forget. One of the few things I can compare to an untainted joy.

Then after a bit of a rough night at school, I was shocked by hearing Sometimes Salvation on the radio. (Give it about 20+ seconds, it's screwy.) There was so much going on in my life when the Black Crowes CD came out yet I really only have one memory that I can connect to it. When Jealous Again, the first track from Shake Your Money Maker was released, my mom and I were in two different places and heard the local station air it for the first time. The next day, that was the first thing we said to each other because it made such an impression, not even knowing the other had heard it. But that's it. No drama, although I'm sure it occurred. No sadness, which I'm sure was there. Not even thoughts of happy, silly times. Just the feeling of the music being there, and being somehow right.

There is a memory that remains; I saw them both in concert in Pittsburgh. Although both were amazing, there's a little more gratitude with INXS.

Things are uncertain at best at this time. Yesterday I had two reminders, one from some stylish Aussies, one from a bunch of good ol' southern boys, that you don't always need to remember, or to forget. It's very liberating to just be. If even for a moment.
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Cast your vote!

How about some input? Yeah, I'm talking to you. And you, too. Ok, I see you reaching over to click away from this blog but remember, I know people... spammers in fact. If you leave now, I can see to it that your inbox is overflowing with emails that would make Ron Jeremy blush.

Ok, not really. But I want to know if anyone out there knows of a better place to live. Yes, 'better' is relative, blah, blah, blah. Either someplace you've been to or perhaps you know someone that lives in a place that sounds like what I'm seeking...

Things I want: mainly warm temps, sun, water, not a giant city, no Deliverance banjos, economically sound, blend of people, semi laid back, education and employment opportunities a definite plus.

Things I don't want: lake effect snow, freezing temps half the year, failing economy, limited growth potential, major metro area, someplace that sucks the life out of you.

Any ideas?

My head may well split like a dropped tomato, ow.

If anyone tried to comment during the past 12 hours or so, I mistakenly restricted comment access. Oops. I was getting rid of word verification. I'm going to try it without that feature for a while. I am so very sick of it and detest having to do it on my own blog.

So here's two things I learned today. First, remember the EEG that yielded no results because the equipment malfunctioned? Well, I had everything redone and got the results today. Well, sort of. Ha. The doc called and told me that the sleep study looked ok but what he really is interested in seeing is the extended EEG. Which he went on to explain he didn't have. Claims results should never take this long. He's frustrated, I'm frustrated. But when he gets the results, I'm sure it'll say everything's 'normal'. I mean, of course it would, that would make things more difficult.

The other thing is about the school. I'm not sure how much I've said about it but things are not going in a positive way. We're switching books and therefore lectures. I asked the other instructor if there were new term lists and she said she had no idea, that she's only been on the new edition for about a month. Thought that was weird as she would have known by now. So tonight I find a stash of term lists in the back of her binder. New ones. Hidden. Ok, is this how they transition new instructors? Make them run around asking for new info and hiding it somewhere? Isn't this supposed to be about the students? I can't blend with that sort of mentality.

Oh, and I'm finding that bluetooth sucks. Either the headsets I've tried or the connection or some such thing. I think it's going back to the Sprint store. Again. They're going to get a restraining order for me pretty soon. ;)

On one hand, I can only roll my eyes at some things; that's how things go. Others, they get to me more. But what's one without the other? I mean, if I got rid of some of these things, I may not actually be nausous all the time.

Just off the key of reason

True, I'm not evil. Then again I suppose that all depends on who you ask. As time went on in my life, I developed a very dark side but while that was happening, I refused to acknowledge it. That's where the previous post came from. It was the immediate magnification and scrutiny of the person I've become, not the person I was. No longer can I paint a sweet little picture of myself. Well I can, but I know there's more to it under the surface. Others don't know. That's my protection. But I do have regrets, things I would have done differently. Maybe.

The flip side of this is that it made me think of a few things about me that I kind of see as things that a 'good' person would do. Or at least these are things that I do that I'm hoping just don't suck as much. Some of these are just based on being senstitive but part of me thinks that the two can be interchangable.

• I stop to move turtles off the road. Even snappers. That pee on me. Ew.
• On the occasions when I experience something I really like, it's often marked by an overwhelming feeling, tears and the inability to speak.
• I have the same reaction when face to face with one or more veterans (think WWII, in uniform, Memorial Day...). They remind me of what they gave for freedom.
• Without fail I will watch decades old episodes of Matlock and Perry Mason because my gram wants to. And I don't complain, ever.
• I've anonymously made payments on patients' bills at a couple places I've worked. They had very little money and spent what they could on their pets, which often couldn't save them. I made sure there was never a trail back to me.
• When I heard a patient crying alone in her room that she didn't want to die, I bought her a card, hand wrote a message, and placed it bedside while she slept. I didn't tell anyone.

None of these things in and of themselves are things that make a person worthy of being termed a good person. But in comparison, I'd say that it's a step in the right direction. What I see in my little list is that these are things that are good by no one's standards but my own. These aren't things that were done for glory. I mean the turtles never even write... Anyway.

So I see that nothing is one sided. I've made myself focus on this side of me for a moment. It does not, for one moment, change the awful things I've done. It's not meant to. Life has forced me to behave in ways that may not make much sense, but I've done the best I could. Often, that's still not nearly enough. Can I atone? Should I atone? I don't think there's a simple answer to that.

One thing I know is that when I behave horribly, it is because part of me has been pushed. On those occasions when I act out of something good, simple and pure, it is just that. At this time, I don't have an explanation for either. Maybe I'll just have to accept that for now.

It won't begin until you make it end

When you take the time to sit back and take inventory of your life, you need to be prepared. Truth be told, gleeful ignorance is much easier on you, but you learn nothing. What is to be learned is not for the weak nor is it something that you can forget once you've caught a glimpse.

My mother constantly asks me why I have such a dark, angry side. She's the only one that really sees the possibilities of it, everyone else pretty much knows me a bit differently. Don't get me wrong, I'm one of the goofiest, silliest people you'll ever meet. I love humor and laughter and I smile and I'm polite. But there's something that doesn't fully mesh.

Somewhere along the way the hunted became the hunter. No, that's not reversed. Growing up, I had some terrible experiences. Hell, as an adult I've had some terrible experiences. If you've been around here long enough, you may recall. Many of these things led me to feel weak, helpless, paranoid, numb, filthy, and just wrong. Some are recurring themes.

Fast forward. I have taken the feeling of being preyed upon and flipped it. Perhaps it's because I still feel out of control, but now, instead of feeling like the one being hunted, I am the hunter. I've done things just because I could. I've used that very dark and angry side to create a web that continues to grow. There is a sick part of me that would back you into a corner, leaving you unsure which is more threatening, the gleam in my eye or the flash of a knife blade. Once you're sufficiently terrified, I can begin to back away, to reassure you that it was all an overreaction and even hand the blade over to you in a goodwill gesture. Only when I see a glimmer of hope would I plunge the blade in and gut you where you stood; your hand still wrapped around the knife. And I can walk away saying 'but they did it to themselves - look, their hand is on the knife!' As a twist, I've turned that behavior on myself numerous times. There's only so much control I have, or want to have, over it.

And this is how I've been living my life. I can't figure when things went wrong, really. All I know is that I've done some things that I never thought I'd do. And not just once, numerous times. I became a person that I never would have willingly associated with. Which makes me wonder if that's why I have this duality thing - one part of me doesn't want to associate with the other. How did this start? There's always been a bit of a dark side, but nothing worrisome. The anger is from years of fear. Once that was a safety mechanism but it has since taken over. Add in numerous bad decisions, a handful of hardcore partying years, the bipolar battle, and an almost unbelievable track record with bad/weird luck.

The hardest part is coming to terms with the fact that I am not as good a person as I tricked myself into believing. I used to be, but not anymore. So maybe it's karma or something of the like that explains why my life is fizzling. I think I believe that you get back what you put out. And I've put out alot of bad shit. It would seem that karma doesn't care whether you were in a tortured state of self preservation at the time, bad is bad. But I'm partially good so I suppose I do get good back - I figure this because I'm not dead yet. Some days I'm not sure that belongs in the 'good' category.

Survey says: I'm mean, spiteful, and have more anger in me than one person should. Worse, I'm willing to unleash it. Perhaps it's punishment, perhaps I'm simply comic relief for the gods. I'm just looking at the way things have gone and realized that many of the important things have fallen away. Everything is a struggle. Could this be payback for my rotten behavior? I never meant to become a bad person. I spent too much time being hunted then one day I learned I could hunt for myself. Maybe I thought being the hunter would make me forget that after all is said and done, I still feel hunted; always will. I have to find a balance. I'm not sulking, I'm just seeing things for what they are. If I acknowledge it, that's the only way to move on and find that balance.

So remember, when you sit back and take inventory of your life you may realize why you've kept every minute of every day busy, being an overachiever. It kept you just busy enough to avoid looking at a part of yourself that you never wanted to see.

The little nothings

I've been alot of places and seen alot of things. I've been part of experiences and experiments both. There are days when I'm certain that there is enough residue left to compile a book. Two books. At least. As time goes on I find that I'm grateful for pretty much all of it.

The one thing that always trips me up is human interaction. We sabotage so many things. We believe words that we know aren't true. We say words that aren't true. If you follow the theory of evolution, I don't think we are necessarily the next step beyond primates but instead some genetic mishap. An offshoot that has the primate world vehemently denying any connection.

When you find someone you connect with, in any given way, that's generally a positive thing. You build some sort of relationship on that, trusting that this person is what they say they are. One day, you realize how much this person means to you and you value them just for being them. This is a reciprocal process. You share and you trust and you give and you take.

Until you don't. Something utterly unbeknownst to you shifts. Things aren't the same. Not even remotely so. Apparently you aren't even worthy of the truth any longer. It would seem you are worthy of nothing, because that is all you are given. And so a part of you, me... a part of me rationalizes, cops an attitude and squarely gives you the finger. It may be laziness or boredom or who-knows-what on your part, but fuck you for leaving me feeling like shit, intentional or not. The other part of me will quietly walk away, not wanting to know what it was about me that you deemed unworthy of friendship.

By distancing me, you never gave me an option. Funny, you probably don't even know that I feel this way. In your mind things may still be fine. I can still see you, but you're not there. You've become just another page in the book.

It shouldn't bother me, but it does.