Rock Star Hour

Stronger

It's been awhile since I have written anything here.

I've been taking Wellbutrin for three months and visiting a therapist for a little less than that. It helps.

My 30th birthday came and went. I had a great time celebrating and my husband completely spoiled me with gifts. Good thing I have another six months to come up with ideas for his, ha.

We are moving to San Francisco soon. That is the plan. That thought is coloring every day, and all the small things we are doing on our way to getting there.

I'm applying to grad school. It's what I want to do, but that doesn't make it any less terrifying. Don't know if terrifying's the right word, except that's all I have. Change, good or bad, can be stressful.

I'm making a list of all the music I want but can't afford. I might do something with it. For one thing, I'm keeping it in my iPOD so that next time I get to a record store I'm not scratching my head going, "What is it I've been wanting for a long time again?" Or finding the band but not knowing which album has the one song I really, really like, even though all their stuff is good.

I'm counting down the days to our next trip. It's not all for fun; there is business at hand. I'm taking two exams: the CSET: Multiple Subject, and the CSET: Writing. Now the latter will be cake. I've already looked at some sample questions and answers and it will be fine. The former, is going to take some work. The test is broken up into three subtests that are further subdivided into sections, and that cover multiple disciplines, the largest umbrellas being Reading, Language, and Literature; History and Social Science; Math and Science; and Physical Education, Human Development, and Visual and Performing Arts. This test is no joke. I'm taking it November 6.

My mom is cancer free again. My grandmother has bladder cancer, and just finished treatment. She didn't have to do chemo; they did a different kind of treatment that wasn't as harsh, I guess. She lost a kidney, but she is doing OK. My grandpa had his follow-up for the lymphoma. He is still cancer-free, and they are going to wait six months between checkups this time. They said he's already been cancer-free for two years. I can't believe it. My best friend's mom was battling anal cancer too, and just had another good checkup, so they are going to Hawaii for two weeks - her mom's first vacation in five years. Another friend of mine, her father had a rare form of cancer, and he had to undergo chemo and radiation, but he is in remission now, too.

That was just an update, and I wanted to share the good news, but man, that's a lot of cancer, isn't it? Get the feeling as time goes on we are going to encounter more and more of it.

I am very strong, and I am just getting stronger.

Labels: Cancer, Goals, Moving, Therapy, wellbutrin

Baby, that was then.

Some days, most days, I have at least a moment of wow, this is where I'm at, and it's in a good way. Just different.

It'll happen when I'm sitting at my desk, realizing how much I like my job.

It'll happen talking to my mother, and hearing the energy in her voice for the first time in so many months.

It'll happen when I'm holding my beautiful niece, and she's smiling at me, or sitting up, like she does now, wide-eyed and laughing.

It'll happen when I'm sitting on my balcony, looking down across the apartments from the small view of my own place. My own place.

Some things, I don't like. Like falling out of love. Like feeling my dreams slip between my fingers before I can grasp them.

I had so many ideas about things I wanted to do for so long. They changed. Then they changed again. Now, lately, I'm thinking about staying awhile, which is for lack of a better word, just plain weird. I'm graduating in May, and months are coming and going more rapidly. I blinked my eyes and it was 2008. I blinked again. It's almost over.

But I've got a whole semester between now and then, next year. I decided to save my applications for things I would be putting out starting now, for later.

I just want to keep doing what I'm doing: living on my own. I do OK but I want to get my degree and either get promoted at my job, like there's talk about, or use my skills to do what I really love: writing. Once school is out of the way, I may not have to decide. I may get to do both.

I want to buy a car by the end of the year. I want to be able to go see my sister or my parents, or pick up to Austin for a weekend whenever I feel like. I want to be able to watch my niece, to take her places.

For the first time in a while, I don't feel like that's much to want, and it's all attainable. That's more comforting than any words.

Labels: Dreams, Goals, Happiness

Update

1. I just got a 100 on my first test for research methods!

2. My mother's surgery went well yesterday. They had decided to do another surgery after stopping the chemo and then finding several more tumors. However, when they went in to do the surgery, they couldn't find what they were looking for, so they took out several of the effected nodes and are going to do a biopsy. We should get the results in about a week, and then we will know what's in store as far as more chemo. This is good news, though, considering the surgery turned out much less minor this way; they had been talking about how it's safe to remove up to 80% of the organ. So, this was unexpected but good, and she will be out of the hospital hopefully this weekend.

3. Still working on my goals. I've been reading articles linked off the NYU site every day on my lunch hour. Two very good articles are here and here. One is on cognitive dissonance men experienced in defining their masculinity post-feminist movement; the other is about the cultural war behind international conflict, and the irrational separation between political ideology and culture between groups; how it divides us internally and externally. Go Ellen Willis. Sadly, yesterday I went to Borders and looked her up. Her books, including the one I checked out from the UH library and read, are out of print, so I must find and order used copies of them. The good news is they will be cheaper, but slightly inconvenient in that Why-Can't-I-Get-Exactly-What-I-Want-When-I-Want-It? sort of way.

4. Man, I love the Blue Scholars, and I can't wait to see them.

5. Surprisingly, I think about Elks Camp a few times a day, but since I'm not hating my life as I know it right now, I'm still enjoying what I'm doing otherwise, so that's good.

6. I have insurance! I enrolled yesterday. I have medical, dental, vision, AD&D, life insurance, and a retirement plan. Working for the state is nice, indeed.

K, thanks!

-c

Labels: Cancer, College, Goals, Music, Work

Wow

I don't even know what to say, except I feel like I should say something. I'm doing so well right now, I can't even believe it.

I haven't really talked about it on here much, but on my more private blogs and in little pieces. But life has gone up and down for me so much in the last few years. Particularly, in the last four years, as I just celebrated the anniversary of this blog last month. I meant to write a commemorative post -- maybe this is the time.

I've hit bottom, I suppose, twice, since this all started.

The first time was in 2004, when in retrospect I believe I suffered a nervous breakdown. I've got the diaries and songs to prove it. This blog isn't even near the whole picture. The blog didn't talk about completely isolating myself, contemplating suicide nightly, feeling as if much of what I did was for no point. Other than my family and friends, and knowing deep down there were people who really loved me. Even when I felt like I didn't have much to live for I wanted to live for them. I wanted to not put the people closest to me through more shit because of my shit.

And so I left town. I packed my bags and left a bunch of frayed ends and put myself in debt. Through running I did gain a better sense of self, but all I really learned was that if I ever wanted to run, I could.

Sometimes I think taking off for Seattle was the best thing I ever did; other times I think it was the most selfish and immature thing I could've done.

Well, live and learn.

I still had deep-seeded issues I needed to work out. Huge emotional problems. Not knowing how to deal with being human. Not knowing how to deal with the past. Not knowing how in the least to plan a future.

Not having a healthy but more lopsided worldview than I really knew. Back to Seattle: it seemed so momentous at the time, and it was. And I learned I could survive, but never imagined what I would have to survive.

When I came back I still could not face reality in so many ways. I still ignored some bills, pretended to be 21 while not recognizing I was well into my 20s. I didn't know what I was capable of, and put off finding out. And when I would feel bogged down with anxiety, depression, or emptiness, I would drink. And the few times when I was manic and happy and giddy for whatever reason, well, that was all the more reason to drink.

I didn't think ahead. I didn't think about my actions as much. I'm not saying this to be hard on myself. I guess I'm saying because I'm sorry, but I know deep down I would not be where I am, if two other things had not happened, horrible things. My car accident where I realized I was not immortal, and that I was too old to be making mistakes on purpose. And my mother, although she is getting better. Having to be strong for my mother has made me want to be strong. Period. Just like my dad did after my accident. Just like my dad, after everything that happened, would slow down once in awhile and see past his anger and recognize that I was hurting, and talk to me about life afterwards. The life I was going to have, if I could see past my tears and picture it for a moment.

So, there's the present. Here I am. It's not what I envisioned; granted, if it hadn't been for the accident I might have continued to go to school full-time like I had. Or maybe I'd still be driving that Cadillac, one of few things that were ever handed to me in life that I thought I was so grateful for, and then gave it right back, in an instant.

But I've got goals coming out of my ears. And I've found a way to be content with the present, because I work damn hard.

And workwise and schoolwise, I'm founding out how much is in me. And I challenge myself like I never used to, because I've realized that in any given situation you can only be as good as you try to be, expect yourself to be, push yourself to be.

No one is ever given everything; the ones who have, they might not see it the same, and I'm not in their class, so it's a different life.

But I know I can have what I want, if I'm true to myself and to hard work. It's not about getting somewhere, I realize that, too. But it doesn't matter, because for me, I'm going. I'm just going because when you're not dead that's all you really can hope to do.

Labels: Goals, Living, Seattle

Whirlwind

My head has been mixed up all day. This morning, my camp director texted me saying he had just lost three female counselors and desperately needed me to come.

Meanwhile, we all know how excited I've been about not going, which is to say, not at all. I was looking at the future with optimism, but also with this protestant ethic of doing what I have to do. Pushing through, like I always do.

I thought I was graduating this December, but this afternoon, I went to see my adviser. Lo and behold, I need six classes to graduate, not four, like I thought. It would be absolutely impossible for me to get through it all between now and then. I know, because I know I'm really good at setting unrealistic goals. No way can I possibly afford and manage full-time work and two summer classes, or full-time work and four classes this fall. It would be impossible.

I dropped a class this semester, because I took on too much. It was a really tough decision. But between working full-time and writing for the paper, and my other classes, I had one grade that was suffering. I could not keep up, or catch up. I thought about the prospect of trying to kick my own ass with it to even get a C, but that might have been at the expense of my other high grades.

My job is stressful also. I don't know if I've described it much. I'm a temp, and I've been there for nearly four months, and am trying to get hired by the University. Meanwhile, the first round of interviews are set to begin two weeks from now.

And meanwhile, I have a lot of responsibility and am already struggling to do everything for school, when recently a higher-up told my supervisor he may want to talk to me about not doing my schoolwork while on the job, if I'm hired. That in itself pisses me off because a) she never said anything to me about it on her own, and b) I only do schoolwork when I am caught up with everything else, so it shouldn't be a problem; if I've got nothing to do but to answer the phones, at that point, what's it to her if I open up a textbook, especially when I work on a college campus?

So, I'm thinking I'm going to withdraw my application and stay as a temp until they hire someone or until I come to camp, whichever comes first.

I talked to my roommate, because the other important thing I needed to know was that all was cool on the homefront, and I could go to camp and pay my cheap rent, and she'd have the place to herself, but I could come back and live here and work and go to school until at least December. She said that was okay, so that way I can save my camp money for tuition instead of having to plan to move; I definitely would not be able to go out there if that were the case.

Man, lots of decisions in one day, but I feel like a weight has been lifted.

Of course, the job thing for the fall may stress me a little, but I think I should have no problem finding temp work again as soon as I get back, until I find something.

And I really feel like I need to go. Already, I was thinking about how much I would miss it. One of my ex-campers just found me on Facebook. She's 20 now, she's engaged, she's in college, and she has two kids. I didn't expect that at all, but although she is so young to already be a mother, she grew up in foster care, and it is just so nice to see her happy. And she's really happy, and I have no doubt she is a wonderful mother. She has emailed me sporadically over the years. I like to think I had a positive effect on her in some way, in at least that she stayed focused and kept a head on her shoulders, and knew things would get better.

That is why I want to go to camp. And it's the same reason I want to be a teacher. I feel like each and every person who works in that capacity is there for a reason. And there are things we say to these kids, and only we can say them. If I weren't there, maybe someone else would be, in my place. But every single person involved has something unique and important to contribute, and I love being part of that.

I'm applying to this program to teach "at-risk" children. I don't just want to be any teacher anywhere; I want to be in a specific place for the kids who need me. I know I will be able to reach at least some of them, and that will make everything worth it.

That's my motivation for finishing school at all right now, having the goal of getting out and teaching these kids. I think about it all the time.

So, whether I graduate this winter or next spring, doesn't really make a difference. No matter what I'm going to be doing something in the following fall, whether teaching, or on my way to teaching.

I guess it's funny how you can realize things all at once. It's all or nothing for me. All confusion or all clarity. But with everything I find out, I know I'm doing what's right. And I could stress about this or that or what if blah blah blah, but in the end, I always get where I'm going.

Labels: Camp, College, Goals, Work

Information Overload.

I can't tell if my brain is rotting, frying or expanding, but I've been taking in a lot of information lately.

I used to care about issues, and I would read everything I could, and try at least to argue my point of view, when challenged.

But over the years, something changed. For a while I cared a lot, but then I learned to pay less attention. And less, until, even when slightly inspired, or feeling like I may have something to contribute, I could not even begin to try to articulate some sort of logical, informed opinion, which I also have always felt, even on the break, is often the only opinion worth having.

Lately, though, I can't help but reevaluate. On the one hand I am realizing how much I do care about, how much I've always cared about, how little things have changed for the better, and how now, perhaps more than ever, a need exists for certain issues to be discussed and addressed, and even hashed out from opposite sides.

This newfound knowledge surrounding the necessity for debate, however challenging, sometimes futile feeling, and oftentimes painful, is nonetheless acute.

We have so many options concerning how we spend our time, what we choose to care about, that sometimes realizing this in itself can have a stifling, suffocating effect.

But I dream, and I hope, that if I can acknowledge this and meet it head on, not being afraid of conflict, not being fearful of my own competence, or what impression I may make, I might be able to do something about it.

***

The fact that crime has gone down in many of our major cities over the last few years is often overshadowed by the feeling of Mean World Syndrome, that we live in a world that is completely unsafe. It is unsafe to go to school. It is unsafe to walk around town. It is unsafe to be out at night. It is unsafe for children to play in parks.

And then, inside is as unsafe as out: it is unsafe to purchase things on the Internet. It can be harmful to your computer to visit certain sites, or open the wrong email, exposing your hardware to a virus, or in the case of some young people lately, to be assaulted online and subjected to humiliation and bullying.

It is unsafe to watch too much television, loaded with violence and sex that is speculated to have such a wide overall effect on the attitudes and beliefs of spectators. Whether it is agreed or doubted that engaging in certain kinds of media too much can cause one to behave more aggressively, above all things consumption of the media is definitely known to cultivate our worldview, one that arguably can be so cynical, that rather than participate in an active social exchange we set ourselves up to ingest even more poison in our own homes.

This is what is seen as safe.

***

We have reports coming out showing that inner-city school kids have only half a chance of graduating. Some would argue it's the Education System's fault. Some would argue it's their parents' fault.

I like what Obama said. Something about how they are not "those" kids. They are "our" kids. That's pretty much how I've always felt about it.

I don't know if it's the fact that I went to 11 schools in three states when I was growing up, and got to see the system from a few different angles, or if it's because I was so disappointed over and over again by my teachers, and standardized tests, and not being challenged enough to care a lot of the time.

I don't know if it's because I read an essay on education in my Comp II class at 20 years old and went on to read several books by the same author, Jonathan Kozol, and about the issues he observed in neighborhoods and with families and with bureaucracy and healthcare and drugs, but something early on got me fired up about education, what it should be, what everyone should have access to. One of the most basic human rights, in the first place, but something everyone needs in this country to the extent that each can survive in our economic system.

There are very few marketable low-level skills anymore. Between manufacturing moving to service, countless jobs moving overseas for cheap labor and the benefit of bypassing pollution laws and labor unions, and things have moved to technology in a lot of ways too, but one skill goes out the door with the next big thing, and it is specialized as well as ever-changing.

However few jobs we have on that end, they are also overcrowded with the fact that the market is flooded with newly graduated college degree holders, who more often than not have education but no experience, student loans to repay, and a vague idea of why they went to college in the first place, placing their hands out after paying their dues for four-plus years, and wondering if it will ever pay off in the future.

***

The world is so complex, adding on to all these other issues one could barely hope to tackle in the slightest in one blog post, and also knowing they are further complicated and clouded in the fog of hidden agendas, including profit, hate, elitism, classism and hindsight as viewed through competing generations.

It seems just as many people think they know where we should go, while the rest of are saying, "Where do we go from here?" And the few who might fall in to at least ask the question or beg for an answer or even possibly propose one on their own, instead chalk it up to the idea that humanity is going to hell in a handbasket.

But what if it's not? I have to believe it's not. And just as I am voting for Obama because the chance that he is full of shit when compared to other politicians seems to me at least to be a lot slimmer, he also at least says the things that so many before him for a long time coming have never even dared to say.

And as for myself, if I care enough to try for anything, to be inspired enough to defend my own views as well as aim for some kind of positive change, that's all I can really dare to do. And if my own daring or Obama's or anyone else who ever dared to care would so in vain, it's better than never trying, never feeling, never dreaming. The alternative is not an option anymore.

Labels: 2008 Election, Books, Dreams, Goals, Obama, Social Problems, The Media

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I'm sitting on the bus after waiting half an hour to go two miles home. I take the bus because I feel safer. I've encountered too many crazies walking, even though I prefer to, on the nicer days.

I always sit on the second seat back on the right, if it is available. I do not know why, except I like it. I always sit in the seat closest to the window. The bus ride is too short to read or write anything, but it's just long enough if you did do one or the other to most likely forget all about your stop.

We pass a high school, and some kids are playing soccer and baseball outside, and the sun is shining.

A few more blocks and I'm off, but still have several blocks to walk. On my walk I am thinking about not thinking. In the half an hour I'd been waiting for the bus, I began to get worried and excited: excited over that, for the first time in my life, pushing 28, I know what I want to be when I grow up, and worried also, about what that means.

I'm thinking about what qualities and experiences I have that can paint this picture into a reality. I'm thinking about the narrow slight of a chance I have (or anyone has) of getting into this program I have wanted to do for a long time, but more recently have been theoretically planning to do, rather than just talking about it.

I'm thinking about not only the competitiveness of the program, but the even slimmer odds that I will get to go where I want to go: 20,000 applicants, a small percentage taken, only 1,000 where I want to go, and that's counting all the slots, not knowing how many will actually be opening up, when it is time.

I have Plan B's and Plan C's and bullets under them:

Goals:

Plan A:
1.
2.
3.

Plan B:
1.
2.
3.

Plan C
1.
2.
3.

I could do this all day. Lots of if/then statements, but it's all really the great unknown, except I know I can do this.

And this place I want to go to, it would be so new, and so huge, and what I would be doing would mean something to me, which makes it even bigger. But in the smallest way on my meeker days I wonder if this is my equivalent of going Into the Wild, and what if the wild swallows me up?

It's nice, though, when I think about it. Just having these things to think about at all. Looking forward to the whole process, when the time comes.

... only nine months or so, and already running a countdown.

Labels: Goals

You know what's funny?

I am doing so well lately. Very, very well. I have a new job. I work 8 to 5:30, and even get to leave for a couple hours on Tues. and Thurs. to go to a class.

I only need six classes to graduate, and I am enrolled in three.

I moved in with a friend of mine, a familiar place. Know lots of my neighbors, as they are old friends.

I'm making more money per hour than I ever have. I do not have to worry about financial stuff anymore at all, so long as I stick to this nice budget I made for myself that doesn't even have to be too strict.

My little sister just had a beautiful baby. I'm so excited. I haven't seen her yet, but may tonight, or by the end of the week.

I feel more on my own, and confident, and I have many goals that I think are realistic, and I've been reading some really amazing books that in a way like experience just propel me further into my own specific context, if that makes sense.

Oh, and my mother. I have been afraid to say anything, because she still has lots of chemo to go through and these things can be unpredictable and I don't want to get ahead of myself, but anyway, she had her first follow-up with the radiologist since the treatments started. It's a miracle, I believe. And I hope it is not a mistake. And I feel very blessed. But, after just a couple months of chemo, the consensus is that the spots are gone. I am amazed. How could one go from Stage 4 liver cancer, four spots, to nothing, in just a couple months? My mother is a brilliant, strong, compassionate woman. Some combination of god or her own will, or everyone else who loves her, of course, along with giving some credit to the advancement of modern medicine, is responsible. And I am grateful.

I was going to write about the two things that have left me slightly unsettled, but in the wake of all this good news, it seems a little silly. Maybe I'll come back to these things some other time.

Although, just for the title's sake, the funny part, which sums up the other stuff, I shall leave you with what this was initially supposed to lead up to -- the lyrics of the unfortunate Phil Collins song from which a small piece flew back and forth in my brain this morning, only to drift away and settle with me again here and now, on my lunch break.

"In Too Deep"

All that time I was searching, with nowhere to run to, it started me thinking,
Wondering what I could make of my life, and who'd be waiting,
Asking all kinds of questions, to myself, but never finding the answers,
Crying at the top of my voice, and no one listening,
All this time, I still remember everything you said
There's so much you promised, how could I ever forget.

Listen, you know I love you, but I just can't take this,
You know I love you, but I'm playing for keeps,
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but I'm in too deep.

So listen, listen to me,
Ooh you must believe me,
I can feel your eyes go thru me,
But I don't know why.

Ooh I know you're going, but I can't believe
It's the way that you're leaving,
It's like we never knew each other at all, it may be my fault,
I gave you too many reasons, being alone, when I didn't want to
I thought you'd always be there, I almost believed you,
All this time, I still remember everything you said, oh
There's so much you promised, how could I ever forget.

Listen, you know I love you, but I just can't take this,
You know I love you, but I'm playing for keeps,
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but I'm in too deep.

So listen, listen to me,
I can feel your eyes go thru me

It seems I've spent too long
Only thinking about myself - oh
Now I want to spend my life Just caring bout somebody else.

Listen, you know I love you, but I just can't take this,
You know I love you, but I'm playing for keeps,
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but I'm in too deep.

You know I love you, but I just can't take this,
You know I love you, but I'm playing for keeps,
Although I need you, I'm not gonna make this,
You know I want to, but I'm in too deep...

Labels: Cancer, College, Goals, Graduation, Music

"Remember, where you're going, there are no roads."

So i was having one of those days with all of these little inconveniences. things to do with waiting and buses and other little things ... it took several hours to just get to an appointment and run a small errand and get done with everything. it started to feel like an all day sort of thing ...

But something happened. 'Cause somewhere along through the day i came from some moment where the universe was obviously playing some game involving conspiracy against me, and moving into a completely different feeling. A feeling where everything is right in the world, or as right as it could be, a feeling of content in the moment.

I am looking for a new job and a place to live.

I am looking forward to graduating, REALLY graduating, in a little over a year.

I am looking forward to finding stable employment where I can make more money, and where my intellect will be valued, and where my skills will be applied.

I am looking forward to the content I'm going to feel when these things do happen, and enjoying the anticipation of knowing they will.

I am looking forward to making a budget and paying my bills and saving money, and looking forward to the satisfaction that comes along with the independence of knowing when the bills are coming, how much they will be, and just being able to pay them.

I am looking forward to being able to grocery shop and eat something other than grilled cheese or food from the restaurant where I work, and fuck, grilled cheese is good, but it's even more awesome when you can afford to have two kinds of cheese, or to add some mushrooms or avocado ...

I am looking forward to getting a new haircut and new clothes.

I am looking forward to saving my money and buying a nice old/new broken in car again, and cruising with some r&b and the windows down.

I am looking forward to so much there is very little time to look back on my mistakes, other than to say, "This is where I've been, and this is where I'm leading."

Because I have a lot going for me, a lot more to do, a lot more good coming my way. I guess going someplace is just a really nice place to be.

Labels: Goals, Spirituality

Recycled Air

I'm at the teashouse and it's cold, and the caffeine's giving me the shakes and there are a million things I want to read and write, or maybe I could just sit here and do a sudoku puzzle. I dunno ...

I do want to tell you something i learned this summer. One of the so many things, and that is to never be afraid of your own success. When I grow up, I want to be a writer, a teacher, a photographer, a philosopher, an athlete, and a musician ... but when I grow up is false. It implies some far away time. Like when you're a kid. Like the kids at camp. Like how the kids come on Sunday and cry sometimes because they can't imagine the weeklong lifetime they are about to experience without sometimes the dearest ones present -- their parents, or grandparents, or big brother, or dog, or the teddy bear they forgot at home even.

A week goes by, with all the time in between spent learning, doing new things, doing favorite things, making things, meeting people, or dancing when they never have before, or getting to play with food or shaving cream without getting in trouble, or being able to pick up an adult and dunk them underwater, or climbing a ladder to go down a slide that lasts forever ... until you reach the pool and want to get out and do it again.

And this says something about time. Something we've said before about time, but in a different way ... the part where the future is not far off from the present. That is exactly right. But it is something that, given the right perspective, can become a point of celebration.

I love you, ____. I still think you are beautiful, and intelligent, and articulate, and talented, and amazing. Please do not be afraid of your own success.

Sometimes i think in idealistic cliches, but then I wonder where they come from. I wonder where all these movies, like Dream for an Insomniac or Akeelah and the Bee come from. Are they based on fictional, irrational, theories for dreamers? Or are they based on the possibilities that lie inside every living thing in their potential for greatness as being of god, as beings formed by energy that moves with a will that is part of a greater, universal will.

I'm sorry to get cerebral here. I'm just as emotional. I've found it doesn't have to be hard to go between the two anymore. I have found that emotion and logic do indeed work together. I have found that as I suspected science and romance are the same thing (listen to Rilo Kiley's "Science vs. Romance" if you get a chance. That song is fucking amazing.)

It wasn't just Camp. It wasn't just new friends. It wasn't just therapy. I wish I could explain it better, but when words fall short, or become too much, I am reminded to simplify. And just as in meditation, sometimes the best thing to do is to clear your mind completely, blocking out memory, music, and the metaphorical weather of whatever is going on in the world, and feel deep down to your soul, spirit, will, inner child, whatever you want to call it because these words are only symbols, which is the point ... and listen to your intention, because rationalism does not always explain things the way they can be assumed. And in this case, my intention is to acknowledge something that was beautiful, and fun, and that had moments of inspiration, but something that has reached ... I don't know what ... I suddenly have this image in my mind of a ferry reaching the seattle skyline ... I guess in other words, and for lack of an original thought necessarily ... We've gotten where we needed to go.

And if you can conclude all of these things, and sincerely mean them, then I pray you will hold onto them dearly, in the face of whatever negativity you are digesting, and encountering, because the lessons, the feelings you are resurrecting from the depths of your mind and heart are the most important things that could ever come out of this entire experience, and having these things to hold, whether with me, near me, remembering me, talking to me, or just reading a book or mixing or not thinking at all ...

I've said it before, I'll say it again,

I believe in you. I love you. And I hope you, in time, will continue to remember the good parts, and that you will also be aware that no apologies are necessary ... that all this had a purpose, as this present moment does.

I will be here for you if you need me, always. At the moment this is hard, but it will get easier, because one of the things I have learned is that I am stronger than I have ever known. That any number of things, as you observed, could have broken me long ago. And so in being strong, as this does hurt even if I appear cold, I am comforted by my faith in myself and in you and the universe. And I wish you the best in finding out what that strength is for you -- because you have it too. Everyone does.

Believe me, because just as you can find proof for the theories that cause you to sink, or want to give up, or to shut down under the pressure ... you can, with the same eyes, the right pair of eyes (Hunter s. Thompson said) find proof to support a theory of something better and beautiful and comforting ...

I have to go.

But for what it's worth i know exactly what you have meant in everything you've said, and I want you to know that it is not too late to experience this or learn these things so long as you remember them and act on them.

It's like the part on Waking Life when the four guys are walking down the street, and they are talking about theory vs. action.

It's like addiction, whether to chocolate, or advil, or a way of thinking as habit. There's this model my shrink gave me. I don't know if I told you about it, but it had the steps of how to overcome ... whatever ... I honestly think it applies to everything ... but there's this part, this line, this stage I sat in for what seems like forever. It was the contemplation stage. The next stage was action.

I was so afraid of failing that I couldn't act. I've always felt like that. It's because of how I grew up. Not an excuse, just an unhealthy way of existing. So anyway, after the action phase, and a couple other steps, the last step was relapse, otherwise known as failure in my eyes ... but my shrink said, if you get to that one, you're not done for ... you just start at the beginning again.

And that's what life is about anyway. Robert fulghum said that long ago, and I read it in one of his books before i left for Seattle ... order to disorder to order again ...

Regardless, acknowledging this cycle gives me the perspective I need to keep things in line so I can handle less than perfect times ...

But the steps ... btw, it's not 12 steps. It's some theory in psychology ... but anyway, if you get to the end, and you look at how much and little, depending on your perspective, it took to get from the theory part to the action part, you start to believe in yourself, and the process, and you decide that it is amazing, and worthwhile, but not necessarily something you want to do again just to start at the beginning.

Now i suddenly wonder if you will understand. I see a slight contradiction in what I'm saying, but I don't. I guess it is all true ... Contradictions don't always disprove truths, but nevertheless, I will say that with these contemplations and actions and relapses, whatever the case, there are so many choices in between.

I feel i have made a very large tangent, but on the other hand, I have said exactly what is necessary, because thinking of things in these terms is just one facet of the jewel the Sandman gave to Daniel, and i know, though, because I believe in you, that seeing this one side may be enough to show you them all.

Okay, i have to go now, but thank you very much for everything. I do appreciate it. I really do. You taught me some things early on. Remember that when you think you need someone to tell you the things you already know.

Have a good day, sweetheart,

Love,

Labels: Addiction, Camp, Career, Goals, Movies, Rilo Kiley, Seattle, Spirituality, Therapy, Work

Winter

Another cold front's coming, and it's going to get colder before it's over. Ray Bradbury talked about winter as a repeated theme in Something Wicked This Way Comes. I remember reading that book last year; it intrigued and terrified me.

Winter in Houston is like winter anywhere. You can feel it starting, but you don't know how cold it's going to get or when exactly it's going to end.

It can warm up for a couple of days. You might even feel a bit of relief when the cold breeze lets up, and you can step outside to shiver a little bit less. Only for the wind to come down again, or worse, rain. I haven't had one of those cold winter rains yet, but it's coming.

As for me, it's winter again. Not just outside, but inside. That season in your life where it's cold and dark, and you pray the Groundhog won't see it's shadow and hope for at least a little sunlight to bring you through the day.

I hope that when the winter is over I will be able to appreciate the spring. Appreciate it by taking it for granted, I mean, because I want to.

One day last week, I had a really shitty day. Shitty in the way that a million things every hour on the hour from the moment I woke up till just before bed just kept on happening. I almost want another shitty day like that, though. It's hard to explain, but at the end of it, all I could do was laugh. I was so glad to have been distracted by mundane, petty things. That shitty day was the closest to normal I have felt in the last few weeks, ever since the shithole I've created grew tremendously, so much so that I still can't write about it properly, and won't be able to provide an explanation for some unpredictable faraway time.

Where do I go from here? Where do you go where everything in your life is different than it was before? Where the goals you've pursued for years are shattered, and your thoughts consume you, and confuse you with their many contradictions.

And in moments your guilt, self-pity and regret seem larger than you. Where you're brain only creates self-hateful thoughts. Where your conversation holds no hope or intellect.

When you are so far into the present that the past doesn't matter and the future seems unthinkable. Unimaginable.

In all other winters, which in retrospect seems degrees warmer than what I would have thought to be intolerable, I always had something, whether it were myself, a plan, a sense of humor, or hope.

But the emotional blizzard is so strong that no shelter lasts for long. Friends, books, movies, even sleep, all wear thin, breaking in the wind and blowing away.

I fight to get them back, just as I fight to be strong. The work is exhausting.

I sleep deeply, or I don't sleep at all, and never know which until the early morning when I start all over again.

Labels: Books, Depression, Goals, Insomnia, Regret

Plans

I'm often torn when it comes to plans. Maybe it's because I'm a realist, always trying to measure the best- and worst-case scenarios; or maybe it's because I'm cynical, because nothing, nor people, no matter what their intentions, can be relied upon.

Or maybe it's because I'm an idealist, and I secretly hope some of the best plans are the ones that weren't planned at all, because underneath the scheme of things, through all the planning and all the days, all the sunsets and all the mornings with coffee and to-do lists running through my brain, is life -- meaning -- and you can only plan so much.

Either way, I'm identifying new goals, and even, (gasp!) envisioning a five-year plan. I remember going on job interviews and being asked where I wanted to be in five years. I couldn't give them an adequate answer because I knew mine was one they couldn't digest. I'm not ready to settle down. I have too many things to do, too many interests, too many friends to miss, meaning I'll miss all of them and learn things from what I miss.

But man, I have some ideas. And I've been dreaming this great dream -- The dream of doing something else. Remember in You've Got Mail when Kathleen Kelly says, "There is the dream of someone else," when she realized she was settling for Frank because they were great friends, and good lovers? I do.

The dream of something else.

Those are beautiful words. Just five little words that make my heart sparkle. The dream of something else is what keeps me happy where I am, and daydreaming of the future.

The dream of something else: another place, another street, something to learn and new people to meet.

The dream of something else: new hopes, new fears, new situations, new let-downs, new lessons and new discoveries.

The something else can be whatever it is. I shall see it for what it is, and hopefully reflect back and smile as I move onto something else's else.

And I might ramble, but it puts me in the best mood to think about how much life is right ahead of me.

Merideth got a promotion.

Renee is doing wonderfully good things.

And Beckie's having a baby.

It makes me so happy to see them happy.

There's so much more. I'm reading and thinking, about my photos and new songs about daydreams and travel and what it was like to be in love, and reflecting on how many challenges I've met and how they were all worth it to get me here: this place in myself where I am happy to just live for now, a place where I can affectionately embrace the present and past, all the while looking toward the future.

I remember when I first started writing songs, and, at the very beginning, I once said I felt the best parts were the ones that were yet to be written. Lately, I'm thinking about life that way. It is comfortable, liberating, exciting and humbling. A balance: in control and out of control -- watching the tides, all the while being part of them.

Labels: Goals, Writing

End-alls, Be-alls, schmee-alls

OK, so things aren't that bad. At least, I've calmed down a little. I picked up shifts at Slicks this week. I can do that for awhile to float me until I figure out what I'm going to do.

I rode my bike today for the first time in awhile. I got a mountain bike for Christmas. Did I tell you that? It's a 21-speed red Huffy. Having a mountain bike is great in Houston because the sidewalks and streets are so shitty. My tires have taken plenty of blows, whereas a regular street bike would've fed me 8,000 tons of concrete by now, I think.

Rethinking the job situation. I got hired by a couple temp agencies. But I have to start with short-term jobs first, which means I'll have to quit Chuy's. The thing is, I love working there.

As a host, I wouldn't be worse off if they paid me in pounds of peanuts. The problem is, it pays so little that even if I worked full time I'd still barely make it. The hosting shifts are short, so that would require lots of doubles. If I wanted to do that I may as well pack a lunch and a sleeping bag for work. Not to mention the fact that part time at any job is just enough so that you don't hate it, you know?

I explained my situation to my boss there. She asked me why I didn't try to be a server. Two reasons. The first is that before they'd even let me do that, I'd have to work To-Go, which pays only 50 cents an hour more than hosting. The other is a combination of laziness, and that I'm stubborn. I've seen how they work. The restaurant is crowded 99 percent of the time. The servers bust their asses. I'm feeling too tired and old for that. My back already hurts constantly. I don't even know how the waiters do it half the time. I feel like if I were to serve there full time I'd be as physically and mentally tired as I was working full time at Slicks and part time there, with school. It would take that much out of me.

And I would hate the customers. Not all of them. A nice mixture of folks, rich and poor, laid-back and uptight, from in town and out of town, come there. Lots of different people. But dealing with them as a server? Fuck that. I'm tired of serving food. I don't really give a shit about knowing the menu anywhere anymore. Plus, you have all the people that come in there thinking they're Nora Ephron, ordering this without this with a side of this, and this other thing not on it, but on the side. Pfff. Whatever. Even vegetarians do it. Chuy's is one of my favorite restaurants because of the menu's many vegetarian options. But Nikki works there too, and she's told me people still come in there and make up their own shit. They'll get some combo that comes with like beef tacos and chalupas and enchiladas and modify it all to hell.

I'm at that point where my experience in the service industy has me walking a fine line between "Yes, sir," and "Fuck right off!"

So there you have it.

***

I'm trying to reconstruct my dreams. I'm trying for new goals. Hobbies. Friends. I feel like a life without them would be lifeless. Maybe it's fear of failure. Anxiety. Laziness. But I'm trying to get those back.

It's like when I go on these interviews, and people ask me what I want to be doing in five years. I don't fucking know. Or Office Space, the part when they're talking about what job you would do for fun if you had a million dollars already.

Fuck man.

So, I've got two tentative dreams. One is teaching English in Japan when I graduate. The other is to be a musician. An actual one. You know, one who records, and plays shows, even if they're small.

I was talking to Nikki about all this the other night. Because I'm always thinking about being someone else: like how I used to imagine what it would be like to be Ellen, when she got her degree and a new job in a new city. And how I'm always telling Nikki how she's young and beautiful and has no debt and could do anything or go anywhere right now, if she really wanted. Why can't I just be happy with myself and where I'm going? Why can't I see in myself what my friends see in me, or even strangers?

Nikki said when I sing, I don't hear myself. I hear all my mistakes, or I think about how I could belt it out when I was just a little kid, and how I've neglected this part of me for so long I feel like it's fading away.

But it doesn't have to. No one says when you are 25 years old you have to stop dreaming.

It's not the end-all, be-all. This doesn't have to be.

***

I've had so many job interviews. They make me so uncomfortable. All I can think about, when I think of where I want to be -- when I'm staring at the cookie-cutter artwork, and the functional yet uncomfortable office furniture, their tacky carpets, and fake office folks, with ladies wearing pantyhose and pumps, walking around like they're in costume -- is this for an answer: "Not. Fucking. Here."

A few months ago, just before I began my boycott of sex and dating, I went out a few times with this crazy guy. He was in his thirties. A businessman. Very intelligent. And funny. But nonetheless, crazy, or at least on par with me.

He used to tell me everything was compromise. He was so fun with his friends. Talkative, hilarious. He could start a conversation with anyone and make them laugh, or at least smile, in 30 seconds. Hands down. He had a great smile too.

But he'd sit across from me, in our more serious conversations over coffee, and tell me, "Everything in life is compromise."

Giving a little to get a little -- like how he hated his business life, when the fact that how phoney he could be to get what he wanted and to motivate people wasn't actually entertaining him. Everything was bending and folding things to make them fit.

I'm too much of an idealist for that, maybe. Even as low as I feel right now. I take the hopeful line. The one Dave and I are always talking about. The reason that I'm still fucking emo, no matter how close to the edge I get to making the jump to goth. Hah.

Problem is, half of me says that compromises are necessary in the beginning to get what you want: like giving up Chuy's even though I like it there, to pick up shifts at Slicks. Only, sometimes my body just carries so much shit from that place it feels like it might collapse: People I don't feel like seeing, songs I don't want to hear, assholes I don't want to deal with, drugs and money passing right in front of me, or memories of this friend or that lover even, and hanging out at this table or that table. Even the tables we played on when I had my going away parties. Or people coming in saying, "I thought you left." And me saying, "I did."

I have long conversations with people and then I don't remember them. I don't remember them because I don't remember the people. I don't remember the people because I never actually see them. I don't see them because I'm not looking. I'm not looking because I don't care.

So, back to compromise. I have to think that if I'll work hard and make some compromises now, I'll eventually get what I want. But then I wonder if he was right. What if that's what happens? And I'll learn that I have to keep doing this for the rest of my life?

I don't want to settle for that. I don't want to compromise my way through. I don't want to be wrong.

Labels: Anxiety, Goals, Relationships, Work