The chapter of my life as documented in this blog has closed. But I will continue documenting at this new home:
www.brightblueday.blogspot.com
3 years ago
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Some themes from my Twitter:
- Anti- republican rhetoric
- Commentary on the current weather
- wistful thoughts about music and nature
- College oddities
- Political thoughts as they pertain to the classes I am in.
It makes me smile that people actually want to befriend me after all of this.
- Anti- republican rhetoric
- Commentary on the current weather
- wistful thoughts about music and nature
- College oddities
- Political thoughts as they pertain to the classes I am in.
It makes me smile that people actually want to befriend me after all of this.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
One More Season
After this summer I am transferring to a local college in the Philadelphia area. I've been having a hard time with this decision, because in essence, I have to return to the small town where I grew up.
When I started this blog in September, it was so I would have a place to put my thoughts about my anxiety. Of course, through the year the worst of it never made its way onto here, because I was having a hard enough time living with it. Having to read about it or allow the few people who read this blog AND know me in reality understand the true extent of the issue just seemed like too much to deal with, on top of everything else. It still is.
My anxiety has basically made it impossible for me to function when I am in the New York area. There were days where I just wouldn't go to class, because having to get out of bed just felt like too much to deal with. I come home every weekend because most of the time its the only time I can relax enough to feel semi-normal. My body needs the two or three day rest from the ridiculous amount of stress and panic I put it through during the week.
Because of this, I applied to a local college as a commuter student. Not that I am largely opposed to dorming, but because the original consideration towards this transfer was to make the college expenses easier to handle.
I am disappointed that I'm going to have to live at home. Of course, I miss my family and my friends and I enjoy myself here immensely. But living by my own schedule, worrying about feeding myself and buying my own groceries and learning how to cook using a microwave and how to unclog a sink and clean bathrooms and make a schedule and take public transportation- these are all things that I got to feel good at. I got a taste of living by myself. And the realization that I'm going to have to move back to my childhood bedroom under my parent's roof, as great as my parents are, is frustrating. The realization that I have to do this because of my own personal weakness and mental illness is even more crushing, because I feel as if I should have seen it coming.
Of course, by moving back home I'll be able to find a steady job, and use the closeness and consistency of Philadelphia to my advantage. Hopefully within a few years I will have saved up enough money to move out (because the original plan has fallen flat) and I'll manage to live nearby, and re-obtain the ability to take care of myself.
Until then, I have to work on this new issue. I have to learn to live with an anxiety that has the ability to disrupt my daily life. Moving back home and transferring feels like I'm giving up right now, but I have to be honest to myself and recognize that graduating is more important than taking the next six years to attempt to get an education while I battle with myself. Its a shitty realization, but there isn't all that much that I can realistically do about it.
When I started this blog in September, it was so I would have a place to put my thoughts about my anxiety. Of course, through the year the worst of it never made its way onto here, because I was having a hard enough time living with it. Having to read about it or allow the few people who read this blog AND know me in reality understand the true extent of the issue just seemed like too much to deal with, on top of everything else. It still is.
My anxiety has basically made it impossible for me to function when I am in the New York area. There were days where I just wouldn't go to class, because having to get out of bed just felt like too much to deal with. I come home every weekend because most of the time its the only time I can relax enough to feel semi-normal. My body needs the two or three day rest from the ridiculous amount of stress and panic I put it through during the week.
Because of this, I applied to a local college as a commuter student. Not that I am largely opposed to dorming, but because the original consideration towards this transfer was to make the college expenses easier to handle.
I am disappointed that I'm going to have to live at home. Of course, I miss my family and my friends and I enjoy myself here immensely. But living by my own schedule, worrying about feeding myself and buying my own groceries and learning how to cook using a microwave and how to unclog a sink and clean bathrooms and make a schedule and take public transportation- these are all things that I got to feel good at. I got a taste of living by myself. And the realization that I'm going to have to move back to my childhood bedroom under my parent's roof, as great as my parents are, is frustrating. The realization that I have to do this because of my own personal weakness and mental illness is even more crushing, because I feel as if I should have seen it coming.
Of course, by moving back home I'll be able to find a steady job, and use the closeness and consistency of Philadelphia to my advantage. Hopefully within a few years I will have saved up enough money to move out (because the original plan has fallen flat) and I'll manage to live nearby, and re-obtain the ability to take care of myself.
Until then, I have to work on this new issue. I have to learn to live with an anxiety that has the ability to disrupt my daily life. Moving back home and transferring feels like I'm giving up right now, but I have to be honest to myself and recognize that graduating is more important than taking the next six years to attempt to get an education while I battle with myself. Its a shitty realization, but there isn't all that much that I can realistically do about it.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
A Drama
Scene Opens: I'm standing in the dining hall by the toast maker. I have a plate of bacon on the counter, because I wanted more, and then decided that I wanted toast too. Once again, my toast didn't come out of the toaster, because someones bagels are stuck at the top of the shaft. Enter M, who asks me what happened.
Me: "Someones bagels are stuck, so my toast didn't come out."
M: "Oops, those are mine!"
He then proceeds to whirl around me with his tray, effectively propelling his potatoes all over the floor.
M: "Look what you made me do!" He says, with sarcasm.
Me: "Oh, sorry." I say, aware that he's kidding and more occupied with retrieving my toast from the 3-million degree machine of fiery metal than this kid's chit-chat methods.
M: "I'm not reaching up there. Its hot." He says this as he reaches into the toaster. I watch, because breakfast theatre is hard to come by these days. That and I really want my damn toast.
He gets his bagels, dragging them down the shaft using my toast. When they land on the serving portion of the tray, he picks up his bagels, and puts them on my plate. Then he stands there, confused, because obviously what is on my plate is not what was on his, and he is trying to figure out the exchange rate of growth from eggs into bacon.
M: "This is your plate."
Me: "Yeah."
He slides his bagels onto his own plate. Then he turns to the toaster, where my cinnamon-raisin toast awaits. Then he touches the toast and somehow manages to flip a piece onto the floor. I pick it up, and throw it away. As I go, he calls after me.
M: "You deserved that!"
I laugh because really, its too early for this breakfast insanity. I put new, untouched pieces of bread in the toaster, get my toast, and return to the table where my roommate is eating french toast sticks.
Roommate: "I saw you flirting with that guy!"
Me: "I wasn't flirting!"
Roommate: "Sure."
Me: "Yeah, the wedding is in six months. Let me tell ya!"
We joke for a few minutes about stupid shit, until a voice at the table behind us grabs our attention. Its Bagel boy, what a shock.
M: "Man, I hate sitting alone!" He says this while looking at us.
Me: "Then sit here." I told him, not particularly caring about the outcome but deciding that he would be talking incessantly to us ANYWAY. And it would be easier to eat if he was doing so NEXT to us.
M: "But then I'd have to move!" He complains, while he picks up his tray and slides in next to me. "I usually sit with random people, but its easier to do at round tables, not square ones like these. I would have had to squeeze past you without permission and it would have been weird."
An hour passes. The conversation ranges from weird, to awkward, to hilarious and outrageous. He's either trying intensely hard to impress us, or he really is irrevocably odd. I swear that I've heard some of the things he's saying before, and at one point I realize he's quoting almost directly from Demetri Martin. But when he's called out on it, he seems more excited that we recognized it than ashamed at being pegged for unoriginal.
It was a weird breakfast.
Me: "Someones bagels are stuck, so my toast didn't come out."
M: "Oops, those are mine!"
He then proceeds to whirl around me with his tray, effectively propelling his potatoes all over the floor.
M: "Look what you made me do!" He says, with sarcasm.
Me: "Oh, sorry." I say, aware that he's kidding and more occupied with retrieving my toast from the 3-million degree machine of fiery metal than this kid's chit-chat methods.
M: "I'm not reaching up there. Its hot." He says this as he reaches into the toaster. I watch, because breakfast theatre is hard to come by these days. That and I really want my damn toast.
He gets his bagels, dragging them down the shaft using my toast. When they land on the serving portion of the tray, he picks up his bagels, and puts them on my plate. Then he stands there, confused, because obviously what is on my plate is not what was on his, and he is trying to figure out the exchange rate of growth from eggs into bacon.
M: "This is your plate."
Me: "Yeah."
He slides his bagels onto his own plate. Then he turns to the toaster, where my cinnamon-raisin toast awaits. Then he touches the toast and somehow manages to flip a piece onto the floor. I pick it up, and throw it away. As I go, he calls after me.
M: "You deserved that!"
I laugh because really, its too early for this breakfast insanity. I put new, untouched pieces of bread in the toaster, get my toast, and return to the table where my roommate is eating french toast sticks.
Roommate: "I saw you flirting with that guy!"
Me: "I wasn't flirting!"
Roommate: "Sure."
Me: "Yeah, the wedding is in six months. Let me tell ya!"
We joke for a few minutes about stupid shit, until a voice at the table behind us grabs our attention. Its Bagel boy, what a shock.
M: "Man, I hate sitting alone!" He says this while looking at us.
Me: "Then sit here." I told him, not particularly caring about the outcome but deciding that he would be talking incessantly to us ANYWAY. And it would be easier to eat if he was doing so NEXT to us.
M: "But then I'd have to move!" He complains, while he picks up his tray and slides in next to me. "I usually sit with random people, but its easier to do at round tables, not square ones like these. I would have had to squeeze past you without permission and it would have been weird."
An hour passes. The conversation ranges from weird, to awkward, to hilarious and outrageous. He's either trying intensely hard to impress us, or he really is irrevocably odd. I swear that I've heard some of the things he's saying before, and at one point I realize he's quoting almost directly from Demetri Martin. But when he's called out on it, he seems more excited that we recognized it than ashamed at being pegged for unoriginal.
It was a weird breakfast.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
And The Slow Ascention To Sanity Commences
Hey y'all! Sorry for the prolonged absence. After the medical debacle, I sorta lost my grip on sanity and have henceforth spent the last two weeks in an anxiety and stress-ridden state of panic which if discovered by the media might actually indicate that I should be studied. Last week I basically cried and curled up into a ball and decided that...you know what? 18 is a good, ripe age, and its totally okay if I die in the fetal position on my bed. Then I saw my therapist. He informed me, as kindly as possible, that this opinion wasn't really valid. Then I grew up.
I could probably say that literally, too...because this weekend was my birthday. In February I decided that I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. This failed. Somehow I managed to get my panic-ridden ass on a train to my friend JK's college. There, her and K and Sheryl threw a party for me. Really, they did! They bought me dinner and balloons and decorated and they even got a ColdStones cake! JK and I completed the fifth year of a Birthday Tradition we have and watched intense movies. I spent two and a half days hanging out with some of the coolest people I've ever met, walking in the amazing sunlight among anciently beautiful buildings and eating way more junkfood than should be legal. I even got to go thrift shopping, which is a secret passion of mine that rarely if ever gets exercised.
My actual birthday- which was Saturday- was almost completely uneventful. I took the train the rest of the way home, ate some delicious cupcakes that my mom made me, and took a four hour nap on my favorite couch with my cat laying next to me. My momma made me my favorite dinner, we watched Oprah (not a typical practice for me, but she was excited about a Justin Timberlake interview that she had DVR'd). Later I went to Wyoming's house to hang out with her and Dayton.
By Sunday I was starting to feel the panic of having to go back to college come back. I woke up at 7:45 with a panic attack. It passed, I went back to sleep, then went to Wyoming's. She threw me a party with plenty of Dew and a beautiful cake. Then we went mini golfing (slash bowling, hockey, pool, soccer).
So this past weekend was amazing. I was able to come back to school with a better and healthier sense of self and while I am far from perfect, I at least am able to take the occasionally deep breath and even relax, once in a blue moon!
I'll try to write more in the coming days, but really I'm just trying to hold it all together for the next six weeks until I can get home with grades good enough that I can transfer to my new college without drama.
Some things coming up in the next few weeks:
The birthday of my brother, whose gonna be 16. Woah!
A tour of a local Museum for a project. I <3 museums
NYC Picnic! Woot!
I could probably say that literally, too...because this weekend was my birthday. In February I decided that I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. This failed. Somehow I managed to get my panic-ridden ass on a train to my friend JK's college. There, her and K and Sheryl threw a party for me. Really, they did! They bought me dinner and balloons and decorated and they even got a ColdStones cake! JK and I completed the fifth year of a Birthday Tradition we have and watched intense movies. I spent two and a half days hanging out with some of the coolest people I've ever met, walking in the amazing sunlight among anciently beautiful buildings and eating way more junkfood than should be legal. I even got to go thrift shopping, which is a secret passion of mine that rarely if ever gets exercised.
My actual birthday- which was Saturday- was almost completely uneventful. I took the train the rest of the way home, ate some delicious cupcakes that my mom made me, and took a four hour nap on my favorite couch with my cat laying next to me. My momma made me my favorite dinner, we watched Oprah (not a typical practice for me, but she was excited about a Justin Timberlake interview that she had DVR'd). Later I went to Wyoming's house to hang out with her and Dayton.
By Sunday I was starting to feel the panic of having to go back to college come back. I woke up at 7:45 with a panic attack. It passed, I went back to sleep, then went to Wyoming's. She threw me a party with plenty of Dew and a beautiful cake. Then we went mini golfing (slash bowling, hockey, pool, soccer).
So this past weekend was amazing. I was able to come back to school with a better and healthier sense of self and while I am far from perfect, I at least am able to take the occasionally deep breath and even relax, once in a blue moon!
I'll try to write more in the coming days, but really I'm just trying to hold it all together for the next six weeks until I can get home with grades good enough that I can transfer to my new college without drama.
Some things coming up in the next few weeks:
The birthday of my brother, whose gonna be 16. Woah!
A tour of a local Museum for a project. I <3 museums
NYC Picnic! Woot!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Boys
The pros of hanging out with guys:
- The movie choices are infinitely better
- No one cries when everyone hangs out.
- I don't feel the need to wear eyeliner to go out with them.
- They hold doors for you, like hardcore. Its adorable.
- You can poke, prod, pull their hair, kick, and tickle them all you want, just so long as Resident Evil V is on the TV screen and there's a remote control in their hands. (Depending on the group, this may also work with Halo, DBZ, or Kiera Knightly).
- Guys usually listen to great music, and sometimes, if you're really nice, they'll let you pick the tunes for the evening! (I am particularly blessed, because the guys I know actually let me play the occasional show tune).
- They tell each other when they smell. Seriously, how great is that?
- Free flow of sarcasm.
- When you mention some sort of change (like weight loss or a haircut) they'll often jump in and comment on said change, even if they probably had no idea or couldn't tell.
Granted, I may just be really, really lucky and know some really awesome guys! I've been lucky in that I've been able to hang out with almost everyone four or five times over break (illness aside).
- The movie choices are infinitely better
- No one cries when everyone hangs out.
- I don't feel the need to wear eyeliner to go out with them.
- They hold doors for you, like hardcore. Its adorable.
- You can poke, prod, pull their hair, kick, and tickle them all you want, just so long as Resident Evil V is on the TV screen and there's a remote control in their hands. (Depending on the group, this may also work with Halo, DBZ, or Kiera Knightly).
- Guys usually listen to great music, and sometimes, if you're really nice, they'll let you pick the tunes for the evening! (I am particularly blessed, because the guys I know actually let me play the occasional show tune).
- They tell each other when they smell. Seriously, how great is that?
- Free flow of sarcasm.
- When you mention some sort of change (like weight loss or a haircut) they'll often jump in and comment on said change, even if they probably had no idea or couldn't tell.
Granted, I may just be really, really lucky and know some really awesome guys! I've been lucky in that I've been able to hang out with almost everyone four or five times over break (illness aside).
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Today
Illness aside, I'm trying to have a semi-normal Spring break. Its been kind of hard to do, because of various reasons, but I'm trying. Since I don't actually know whats wrong with me its sort of being taken on a day-by-day basis. Today I woke up not feeling so great, a sentiment which maintained itself all through the afternoon and clear into the nighttime. But I had a quadruple semi-birthday celebration tonight with some of my guy friends. It was basically an excuse to order some Chinese food and eat cake, which we took advantage of. Then we got bored and went to Walmart, because when you live in Jersey nothing is open on Sundays past nine, except for Walmart. So we squeezed into a car and drove over, and we spent an hour and a half wandering the shelves. Unfortunately I was kinda shaky because I drank an extraordinary amount of black coffee on an empty stomach this afternoon, and my ability to function was somewhat diminished. Eventually we left (me in a very dizzy, giggly form of exhaustion) and we all went our seperate ways around 11. But because I really can't tell if I'm gonna feel well enough to see other people during the week I ended up stumbling over to Wyoming's house and watching The Office with her and Dayton for a few hours. She gave me the best, nearly inappropriate birthday card which made me giggle. I love my Birthday, even though its not for another two weeks.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
How I Know I'll Make A Good Mother.
Anyone out there who has ever spent two weeks in any sort of pain/discomfort combo understands that after awhile, the kindness stops. I mean really, it stops and threatens to never come back again. Because how can you expect me to be patient and smile when I'm considering the pros and cons of shooting a bullet right through my head? C'mon now!
So today I had my CT Scan. I went in, filled out a silly little survey and put on a mysterious paper gown with a friendly tone of voice. I even made jokes, because damnit, I was going to not make this difficult! I'm an adult, I was more than willing to suck it up and do my thing.
But I was waiting in a tiny coffin-sized room in a gown with the textile integrity of a dryer sheet while my mom stood outside when a wonderful woman named Sharon comes back with a nervous smile.
"I'm sorry, but there seems to be a problem. See, your doctor says that you could be pregnant, and so we can't run your scan until we can be sure that you're not."
A little side-note here, unless pregnancy is now an airborne disease, there is no possibility that I am pregnant. End of story. Of course, I have always had the irrational fear of being pregnant, like I would be the one person in the would who was A-sexual. But really, I'm just Bi-sexual and that's not even properly related to this story.
In a perfectly polite, composed, world I would have responded calmly "this isn't possible, my doctor is just being a complicated ass, would you like me to take a pregnancy test?" My actual response, however, went a little something like this:
"Are you kidding me? I'm not pregnant, I'm not even active! Why would I lie about something like that? My doctor is an idiot, he's an asshole, I AM NOT PREGNANT! Why would I get this test done if I were pregnant? WHO WOULD RADIATE A BABY!?!?"
Except add a few expletives and me saying over and over "I am DONE at my doctor's office. I am never going back to that hell-hole ever again, that fucking insufferable prick KNOWs I'm not pregnant, I told him four times! WHAT SORT OF PERSON WOULD BUT AN INFANT THROUGH RADIATION?!?"
And then I attempted to eat the wonderfully kind technician whose face had crumpled into panic briefly before resuming her nervous smile.
"I will be right back." She said quietly, "I'll see what I can do"
Apparently, my indigence paid off, because they believed me and I was allowed to lay on a freakishly long table while a giant donut machine groaned at me and radiated my insides. What a raving success.
Of course, between my virginity and my screaming about the horror of radiating unborn fetuses, there is an excellent chance that the treatment center thinks I may be Mormon.
So today I had my CT Scan. I went in, filled out a silly little survey and put on a mysterious paper gown with a friendly tone of voice. I even made jokes, because damnit, I was going to not make this difficult! I'm an adult, I was more than willing to suck it up and do my thing.
But I was waiting in a tiny coffin-sized room in a gown with the textile integrity of a dryer sheet while my mom stood outside when a wonderful woman named Sharon comes back with a nervous smile.
"I'm sorry, but there seems to be a problem. See, your doctor says that you could be pregnant, and so we can't run your scan until we can be sure that you're not."
A little side-note here, unless pregnancy is now an airborne disease, there is no possibility that I am pregnant. End of story. Of course, I have always had the irrational fear of being pregnant, like I would be the one person in the would who was A-sexual. But really, I'm just Bi-sexual and that's not even properly related to this story.
In a perfectly polite, composed, world I would have responded calmly "this isn't possible, my doctor is just being a complicated ass, would you like me to take a pregnancy test?" My actual response, however, went a little something like this:
"Are you kidding me? I'm not pregnant, I'm not even active! Why would I lie about something like that? My doctor is an idiot, he's an asshole, I AM NOT PREGNANT! Why would I get this test done if I were pregnant? WHO WOULD RADIATE A BABY!?!?"
Except add a few expletives and me saying over and over "I am DONE at my doctor's office. I am never going back to that hell-hole ever again, that fucking insufferable prick KNOWs I'm not pregnant, I told him four times! WHAT SORT OF PERSON WOULD BUT AN INFANT THROUGH RADIATION?!?"
And then I attempted to eat the wonderfully kind technician whose face had crumpled into panic briefly before resuming her nervous smile.
"I will be right back." She said quietly, "I'll see what I can do"
Apparently, my indigence paid off, because they believed me and I was allowed to lay on a freakishly long table while a giant donut machine groaned at me and radiated my insides. What a raving success.
Of course, between my virginity and my screaming about the horror of radiating unborn fetuses, there is an excellent chance that the treatment center thinks I may be Mormon.
Oh My Wisdom
I wrote this post an hour before I went to get my CT Scan yesterday. After reading the details of that particular adventure, it really shouldn't be surprising to anyone that these were my thoughts directly before the whole ordeal:
When I graduated I became, (lets face it), less bitchy. My friends are laughing now, 'cause they're all like... this is LESS bitchy? Please woman, be 'fo realz. But I AM 'fo realz. I was a total bitch in high school, up until the last few months. Then I Chilled.The.Fuck.Out. It was a glorious time, despite the strange looks I received every time I threw around the words "love" and "happy" and "forgiveness". I was on my way to motherfucking sainthood, and damnit it was good. I bought more shirts supporting activist causes, I started wishing people "happy birthday", and I even allowed myself to be hugged whenever anyone opened their arms. I became a hug whore. If there was a hug STD, I would have most certainly caught it and spread it around so far that it would have been a fucking Hugging STD epidemic, totally untraceable to me but would probably be guessed to originate inside of precious feral panda bears in China. 'Cause we haven't blamed China enough for things recently, and its just About Damn Time.
Anyway, with everything going on I've become a lot more cynical lately. Not towards people I know personally, of course... because part of that "less bitchy" thing was realizing that the people around me are probably the most fantastic, amazing people on this goddamn planet, and seriously...we need more people like that right now. And not towards God or Jesus or any other heavenly body, 'cause they're all really cool and I love them and they're looking out for me and I appreciate that, which I tell them 'cause Topher taught me how.
But I am noticing that the constant "give them a second chance" or "the intentions were good" or "give them the benefit of the doubt!" philosophy that I've been living under is silly. Some people are shits. They don't mean to be shits, maybe, and they aren't shits all the live-long-day... but there is definitive shittyness out there, and by ignoring that I am not accepting one of man's greatest feats. We can be cruel, terrible people and still sleep at night. I'm talking to you, Omar Al-Bashir... and your sidekick, my Doctor's office.
Excluded from these are my Friends, family, professors, roommate and her boyfriend, a wonderful woman named Wilma whose name may be given to my first born child (boy or girl), everyone my mother works with, and the people at the insurance company who despite the fact that they deal with illness and theft all day long still wished that I would feel better.
Okay, FINE, the world is still a wonderful place, with caring people and only a few assholes. But seriously, those few sure as hell ruin it for the rest of us sometimes, don't they?
When I graduated I became, (lets face it), less bitchy. My friends are laughing now, 'cause they're all like... this is LESS bitchy? Please woman, be 'fo realz. But I AM 'fo realz. I was a total bitch in high school, up until the last few months. Then I Chilled.The.Fuck.Out. It was a glorious time, despite the strange looks I received every time I threw around the words "love" and "happy" and "forgiveness". I was on my way to motherfucking sainthood, and damnit it was good. I bought more shirts supporting activist causes, I started wishing people "happy birthday", and I even allowed myself to be hugged whenever anyone opened their arms. I became a hug whore. If there was a hug STD, I would have most certainly caught it and spread it around so far that it would have been a fucking Hugging STD epidemic, totally untraceable to me but would probably be guessed to originate inside of precious feral panda bears in China. 'Cause we haven't blamed China enough for things recently, and its just About Damn Time.
Anyway, with everything going on I've become a lot more cynical lately. Not towards people I know personally, of course... because part of that "less bitchy" thing was realizing that the people around me are probably the most fantastic, amazing people on this goddamn planet, and seriously...we need more people like that right now. And not towards God or Jesus or any other heavenly body, 'cause they're all really cool and I love them and they're looking out for me and I appreciate that, which I tell them 'cause Topher taught me how.
But I am noticing that the constant "give them a second chance" or "the intentions were good" or "give them the benefit of the doubt!" philosophy that I've been living under is silly. Some people are shits. They don't mean to be shits, maybe, and they aren't shits all the live-long-day... but there is definitive shittyness out there, and by ignoring that I am not accepting one of man's greatest feats. We can be cruel, terrible people and still sleep at night. I'm talking to you, Omar Al-Bashir... and your sidekick, my Doctor's office.
Excluded from these are my Friends, family, professors, roommate and her boyfriend, a wonderful woman named Wilma whose name may be given to my first born child (boy or girl), everyone my mother works with, and the people at the insurance company who despite the fact that they deal with illness and theft all day long still wished that I would feel better.
Okay, FINE, the world is still a wonderful place, with caring people and only a few assholes. But seriously, those few sure as hell ruin it for the rest of us sometimes, don't they?
Rover?
Because of whatever Kidney issue I may or may not be having (how about a major hand in the air for mystery illnesses!) my doctor prescribed me some death capsules pain meds.
That would have been great, except for one of the side effects:
Kidney Failure.
Sorta seems like they're kicking a dog while its down, don't you think?
That would have been great, except for one of the side effects:
Kidney Failure.
Sorta seems like they're kicking a dog while its down, don't you think?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Moral Dilemna
Haruka is now too fat to get onto the ledge where her food is kept. I have two options:
1. Move her sleeping hutch closer to the ledge so she can use it as a step and achieve nourishment.
2. Keep everything as it is and use the promise of food as encouragement for good work ethic without laziness.
Decisions, decisions.
P.S. To silence all you animal cruelty activists out there, I moved the hutch closer for now, and will come up with a hammie weight-loss/anti-lazy solution for the future.
Note: I had to come home from college early to get CT Scans 'cause I have a mystery illness that could be one of about five things, ranging from painful to not-so-serious to oh-my-god-I-could die. The doctor thinks its kidney stones. We'll see. With my tendency towards luck and always having some sort of medical complication, I'll probably have either organ failure, cancer, or something completely new never before seen by man. At least the pain meds finally started to work today. I'll keep people posted, which is easier to do now that I've stopped breaking down into hysterics every ten minutes, 'cause I'm good like that.
All I have to say, is that God for Mommies, Daddies, and really awesome Roommates who will stay up until 1 a.m. looking up medications and diseases and hugging crying, sobbing messes who are unable to utter intelligible phrases outside of "whaaaaa."
Apparently, I am 18 going on 2. But more about these things later.
1. Move her sleeping hutch closer to the ledge so she can use it as a step and achieve nourishment.
2. Keep everything as it is and use the promise of food as encouragement for good work ethic without laziness.
Decisions, decisions.
P.S. To silence all you animal cruelty activists out there, I moved the hutch closer for now, and will come up with a hammie weight-loss/anti-lazy solution for the future.
Note: I had to come home from college early to get CT Scans 'cause I have a mystery illness that could be one of about five things, ranging from painful to not-so-serious to oh-my-god-I-could die. The doctor thinks its kidney stones. We'll see. With my tendency towards luck and always having some sort of medical complication, I'll probably have either organ failure, cancer, or something completely new never before seen by man. At least the pain meds finally started to work today. I'll keep people posted, which is easier to do now that I've stopped breaking down into hysterics every ten minutes, 'cause I'm good like that.
All I have to say, is that God for Mommies, Daddies, and really awesome Roommates who will stay up until 1 a.m. looking up medications and diseases and hugging crying, sobbing messes who are unable to utter intelligible phrases outside of "whaaaaa."
Apparently, I am 18 going on 2. But more about these things later.
Friday, March 6, 2009
The World's Watchful Eyes Revisited
Almost a month ago I wrote a post about the issue in Darfur as humanitarians worldwide waited to hear if Omar Al-Bashir would be indited by the International Criminal Court (ICC). A week or so ago, March 4 was whispered as the do-or-die date. The day came, Bashir was indited, and panic has ensued.
When I wrote a month ago, I said this:
"The issue is that if Bashir is arrested, the backlash on the people of Darfur, the UN Peacekeepers (the few that were actually deployed), and Journalists could be severe. The restricted green cards that are allowing international aid workers into the country could be revoked, which would send Amnesty, Save Darfur, and countless other agencies packing and would leave the people defenseless."
Thursday morning, this is exactly what happened. While Bashir has not been arrested (the ICC has no law-keeping force, its up to the Sudanese government to give Bashir up) Aid agencies are pleading with the Sudanese government to let them stay, but the entire system is tied into the Genocide. The Sudanese government has been protecting two other individuals who were charged for the Genocide, and the support they are showing for President Bashir is solid. By charging these criminals, the ICC may have sealed the fate of the people in Darfur, and the odds of Bashir being handed over to the ICC's jurisdiction are slim.
The victory is that the process of justice for the people of Darfur (and more recently Chad and C.A.R.) has begun, giving hope to the people who have been living with this hell and those who have done what they can to offer those people support. But it isn't a success. Millions of people now stand to be further abused because of the ICC's decision. The few who were able to help are no longer in a position to be able to do so. This ruling is a curse disguised as a blessing, an unfortunate realization that justice means little when brought against suffering. This arrest will not protect the women being raped in the refugee camps, it will not give the children water or hold families together. The sentence of suffering felt by the people of Darfur has been extended under the guise of progress. Yes, this means that the horrors in Sudan and Chad and the Central African Republic will be scruitinized under a even more direct beam of international light, but at what cost?
This makes the sentence hard to celebrate.
When I wrote a month ago, I said this:
"The issue is that if Bashir is arrested, the backlash on the people of Darfur, the UN Peacekeepers (the few that were actually deployed), and Journalists could be severe. The restricted green cards that are allowing international aid workers into the country could be revoked, which would send Amnesty, Save Darfur, and countless other agencies packing and would leave the people defenseless."
Thursday morning, this is exactly what happened. While Bashir has not been arrested (the ICC has no law-keeping force, its up to the Sudanese government to give Bashir up) Aid agencies are pleading with the Sudanese government to let them stay, but the entire system is tied into the Genocide. The Sudanese government has been protecting two other individuals who were charged for the Genocide, and the support they are showing for President Bashir is solid. By charging these criminals, the ICC may have sealed the fate of the people in Darfur, and the odds of Bashir being handed over to the ICC's jurisdiction are slim.
The victory is that the process of justice for the people of Darfur (and more recently Chad and C.A.R.) has begun, giving hope to the people who have been living with this hell and those who have done what they can to offer those people support. But it isn't a success. Millions of people now stand to be further abused because of the ICC's decision. The few who were able to help are no longer in a position to be able to do so. This ruling is a curse disguised as a blessing, an unfortunate realization that justice means little when brought against suffering. This arrest will not protect the women being raped in the refugee camps, it will not give the children water or hold families together. The sentence of suffering felt by the people of Darfur has been extended under the guise of progress. Yes, this means that the horrors in Sudan and Chad and the Central African Republic will be scruitinized under a even more direct beam of international light, but at what cost?
This makes the sentence hard to celebrate.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Health Code Friendly
The Contents of my Refrigerator (1.5 cubic feet)
Pre- Cleaning
1 Quart of Milk (Expiration Date- Feb 11th)
1 Half Gallon of Milk (Expiration Date- Feb 15th)
2 half-eaten Yogurts
3 mixed berry Yogurts (Expiration Dates- Jan 29, Feb 7, Feb 11)
3 vanilla Yogurts (Expiration Date- April 2)*
1 Loaf of bread, mostly frozen, may be moldy (not yet determined)
1/2 a Tomato, frozen due to proximity to Freezer
1 slice of week old Pizza
1 container of rice, frozen due to proximity to Freezer
1 6 oz Container of Mayonnaise
Garlic Clove
Post- Cleaning
3 Vanilla Yogurts
1/2 Tomato (Out of guilt, it won't ever be eaten)
1 6 oz Container of Mayonnaise
Garlic Clove
2 Water Bottles
There really is no excuse.
* The unexpired Yogurts were stacked on top of the expired ones.
Pre- Cleaning
1 Quart of Milk (Expiration Date- Feb 11th)
1 Half Gallon of Milk (Expiration Date- Feb 15th)
2 half-eaten Yogurts
3 mixed berry Yogurts (Expiration Dates- Jan 29, Feb 7, Feb 11)
3 vanilla Yogurts (Expiration Date- April 2)*
1 Loaf of bread, mostly frozen, may be moldy (not yet determined)
1/2 a Tomato, frozen due to proximity to Freezer
1 slice of week old Pizza
1 container of rice, frozen due to proximity to Freezer
1 6 oz Container of Mayonnaise
Garlic Clove
Post- Cleaning
3 Vanilla Yogurts
1/2 Tomato (Out of guilt, it won't ever be eaten)
1 6 oz Container of Mayonnaise
Garlic Clove
2 Water Bottles
There really is no excuse.
* The unexpired Yogurts were stacked on top of the expired ones.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Ugh.
Some Things From Today:
Woke up, checked e-mail, got a letter, laid back in bed.
Got coffee with JL, we played Candy Land with some kids. Made plans for later this month.
Came home, got a migraine, read Gilmore Girls and laid on the couch for an hour.
Talked to Alex, got a text from BW, listened to Deathcab and felt okay.
Went to Wyoming's to see her and Dayton. Watched Jackass. Got a ride home.
Listened to old Yellowcard CD. Realized I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. Worried because I've stopped taking initiative in my classes, because I don't actually want to be there.
I'm so fucked.
Woke up, checked e-mail, got a letter, laid back in bed.
Got coffee with JL, we played Candy Land with some kids. Made plans for later this month.
Came home, got a migraine, read Gilmore Girls and laid on the couch for an hour.
Talked to Alex, got a text from BW, listened to Deathcab and felt okay.
Went to Wyoming's to see her and Dayton. Watched Jackass. Got a ride home.
Listened to old Yellowcard CD. Realized I have no idea what I'm doing anymore. Worried because I've stopped taking initiative in my classes, because I don't actually want to be there.
I'm so fucked.
A Convo
From xkcd:
COMPLETELY UNRELATED:
COMPLETELY UNRELATED:
Me (on phone): Hey Brother?
Brother: Yeah?
Me: Can I borrow your black shirt?
B: Why?
Me: I'm going out and the only shirt I have has paint on it. I don't want to look like a complete skank.
B: You can, but only if you still look half skanky.
Me: Okay, I'll make sure my pants don't fit, then.
B: Then you can borrow the shirt.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Indeed
There is a specific scent today, the scent of blustery winds against sixty degree weather. I'm laying on my bed- laughingly disheveled with floral sheets and a solid black quilt. Nothing matches, not even the pillows. My room is lime green, which has always struck me as a strange color to chose. Green hasn't been my favorite color since childhood. Six years ago, when I chose the color, I loved purple. But this green, bright and acidic, hasn't gotten old yet. It appeals to my less than girlie nature, I've never been one for frills or intricacy or pretty details.
My lack of femininity has always been a significant part of my life. Its why I always had little interest in children, and why my friends always tended to be guys. My inability to appreciate chivalry has drawn lines through my relationships, and I can only name a handful where that line was respected, and those are the relationships I can look back on with smiles. The clothes in my closet: Jeans and solid-colored t-shirts, display little or no girlishness at all. In truth, I own one skirt and one shirt with any hint of lace. They are both black. My shoes are covered in mud from the time I decided that sidewalks were terrible, but didn't realize that the ground was so soft that there was a good four inches of boggish coating above the ground. My one set of heels, purchased for prom before being downgraded as "work shoes" (my one skirt served a similar purpose, being bought for a funeral before spending summertime in an office building), are scuffed and broken. Makeup and long hair may be the only definitively girlie aspects of my person.
... the bisexual thing was a long time coming, wasn't it*? :k
* This conclusion wasn't exactly where this post was going... but the realization struck so clearly that I just couldn't bring myself to finish my train of thought.
My lack of femininity has always been a significant part of my life. Its why I always had little interest in children, and why my friends always tended to be guys. My inability to appreciate chivalry has drawn lines through my relationships, and I can only name a handful where that line was respected, and those are the relationships I can look back on with smiles. The clothes in my closet: Jeans and solid-colored t-shirts, display little or no girlishness at all. In truth, I own one skirt and one shirt with any hint of lace. They are both black. My shoes are covered in mud from the time I decided that sidewalks were terrible, but didn't realize that the ground was so soft that there was a good four inches of boggish coating above the ground. My one set of heels, purchased for prom before being downgraded as "work shoes" (my one skirt served a similar purpose, being bought for a funeral before spending summertime in an office building), are scuffed and broken. Makeup and long hair may be the only definitively girlie aspects of my person.
... the bisexual thing was a long time coming, wasn't it*? :k
* This conclusion wasn't exactly where this post was going... but the realization struck so clearly that I just couldn't bring myself to finish my train of thought.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Turning
In the wee hours of this morning, I was talking to Alex and I came to a semi-realization. I say semi because I've talked about it so many times, but really I try not to think about it. The truth is, I am almost completely uninterested in going to college. I knew this before I graduated from high school, and before I even filled out college applications. But getting anything other than a four year degree is not an option in my family (neither of my parents finished college).
I told Alex that ideally, I would get a few jobs working in some artsy or nerdy shops around Philadelphia, while living in my own studio in either the city or a nearby town on the Jersey side. I know that whatever I would end up doing, degree or not, will require working in a city and probably some sort of commute by train. I've realized over the last few months that I love splitting my time between two cities. The movement, and the accessibility has been amazing. I can get cheap food and find activists of any nature near New York, while spending calm nights and coffee hours with friends down by Philadelphia. Of course, there are the negatives of each location, but ultimately I get to live the "best of both worlds", just so long as I keep my energy positive.
On another note, the Age of the Aquarius is among us (every 2,000 years the ages change. The last age we lived in was the age of the Pisces. That began around the same time as Jesus). The Age of Aquarius is all about Unity and Love, so the next 2,000 years should be an amazing part of this Earth's life. The Age of the Pisces was a male dominated age, and those times are coming to a close now. Of course, as a part of this, the "end of the world" in 2012 (because there are people who actually think the world will end!) is actually a separation between the enlightened and the unenlightened. This whole "event" is really difficult to explain without hand motions signifying wholeness and a lot of love, so I encourage anyone who understands to try and explain it to the people close to them! (Likewise, if you know me personally and you want to know, please ask!).
I guess that being said, there are a lot of things going on in my life right now, and today I actually felt the shift. Yes, I am impatient to get out of college so I can actually begin to live the life that I want to live. But I've been presented with an opportunity to meet new, wonderful people and to feel closer to friends from my past. And yeah, it can be frustrating feeling like a nomad sometimes, but I've learned a lot through the splitting of my time and now I've come to actually enjoy it. The biggest issue has always been the lovely tangle I've made out of my relationships, and I decided to just let things happen. I'm not tying myself to people anymore, because this creates unneeded stress on not only me, but them too. After talking to Alex, everything that's been ugly between us for so many months felt like it melted away, and we were speaking more as if we were remembering good times than as if we were fighting to fit some sort of forced friendship.
Its all about the energy!
-Sarah elizabeth
I told Alex that ideally, I would get a few jobs working in some artsy or nerdy shops around Philadelphia, while living in my own studio in either the city or a nearby town on the Jersey side. I know that whatever I would end up doing, degree or not, will require working in a city and probably some sort of commute by train. I've realized over the last few months that I love splitting my time between two cities. The movement, and the accessibility has been amazing. I can get cheap food and find activists of any nature near New York, while spending calm nights and coffee hours with friends down by Philadelphia. Of course, there are the negatives of each location, but ultimately I get to live the "best of both worlds", just so long as I keep my energy positive.
On another note, the Age of the Aquarius is among us (every 2,000 years the ages change. The last age we lived in was the age of the Pisces. That began around the same time as Jesus). The Age of Aquarius is all about Unity and Love, so the next 2,000 years should be an amazing part of this Earth's life. The Age of the Pisces was a male dominated age, and those times are coming to a close now. Of course, as a part of this, the "end of the world" in 2012 (because there are people who actually think the world will end!) is actually a separation between the enlightened and the unenlightened. This whole "event" is really difficult to explain without hand motions signifying wholeness and a lot of love, so I encourage anyone who understands to try and explain it to the people close to them! (Likewise, if you know me personally and you want to know, please ask!).
I guess that being said, there are a lot of things going on in my life right now, and today I actually felt the shift. Yes, I am impatient to get out of college so I can actually begin to live the life that I want to live. But I've been presented with an opportunity to meet new, wonderful people and to feel closer to friends from my past. And yeah, it can be frustrating feeling like a nomad sometimes, but I've learned a lot through the splitting of my time and now I've come to actually enjoy it. The biggest issue has always been the lovely tangle I've made out of my relationships, and I decided to just let things happen. I'm not tying myself to people anymore, because this creates unneeded stress on not only me, but them too. After talking to Alex, everything that's been ugly between us for so many months felt like it melted away, and we were speaking more as if we were remembering good times than as if we were fighting to fit some sort of forced friendship.
Its all about the energy!
-Sarah elizabeth
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The World's Watchful Eyes
Okay, so I've been an advocate for Darfur since I don't even know when... but I was a sophomore in high school (I know this because I can remember talking avidly about the issue to my boyfriend at the time while we crossed the train tracks on the way home from school. But we may have not been dating. I pretended to have to walk home a lot so that I could sneakily spend extra time with him. This was a digression... which will be over in 3...2...1...)
Anyway, the genocide in Darfur was what prompted me to want to take action against human rights abuses. It all started with a speech by Angelina Jolie, who was new to the UNHCR post and had just finished a multi-national tour to numerous third-world countries across the planet (including war torn Afghanistan, and post civil-war Sierra Leone). Her speech was on CSPAN, and I just remember feeling angry and appalled. She was speaking about an issue where (at the time) a million people were displaced and 100,000 had died. Those numbers have officially tripled (although unofficially, they have quadrupled... but not many agencies are publishing those numbers for some ungodly reason).
The genocide itself is government sanctioned, coming from Omar Al-Bashir and his cabinet. Of course, the militia get their guns from the Chinese, because China gets their oil from Sudan and that's just how trade works these days. Chalk it up for yet another reason we need another source of fuel- preferably one that doesn't fund mass murder. But alas, another digression!
Anyway, in August Bashir was brought up on charged by the ICC. At the time, no one reported this, with the exception of a tiny scroll on CNN that was about 7 words long. The amount of airtime the event received was less then the amount of airtime Chris Brown's rage has received in the last two days. This was absolutely infuriating to myself and anyone else who has been campaigning and petitioning to multiple governments since 2003 (or for me, 2005... I was late to the game. But not as late at the people who had to see George Clooney go on Oprah before figuring it out. God Bless Clooney AND Oprah for globalizing the issue the way grassroots agencies can't!). However, considering the first 5 years of the issue received (literally) 36 minutes of airtime on every American news station this sort of understated, ignorant reaction was expected.
At the time, organizations working closely with the issue reported that it would take six months to know whether the ICC would actually issue a warrant for Bashir's arrest. No leader of a nation has ever been arrested while in office (Charles Taylor, whose trial is ongoing despite his sanctioned atrocities taking place in 1980, was arrested after the fact). Well, the six months have come and gone, and there are whispers of the decision coming from The Hague.
The New York Times has reported that a warrant has been issued for Bashir's arrest. The reporter sourced lawyers and other individuals related to the case. Five hours ago, an official statement from The Hague denied these claims. Whether the New York Times was misinformed, or people related to the case spoke too early is unknown right now. Frankly, I'm prone to believe that the warrant has been issued. The 6 month period has ended, and Bashir has had the audacity to go up for re-election this spring. Better to arrest him at the end of this term than at the beginning of the next one (because we all know, that elections in Africa don't actually elect new leaders, they merely get rigged so that a pre-determined winner remains in office.. *cough* Mugabe *cough*).
The issue is that if Bashir is arrested, the backlash on the people of Darfur, the UN Peacekeepers (the few that were actually deployed), and Journalists could be severe. The restricted green cards that are allowing international aid workers into the country could be revoked, which would sent Amnesty, Save Darfur, and countless other agencies packing and would leave the people defenseless. Extra attacks on the men, women, and children of the region could increase (although statistics right now already declare that any woman above the age of two has been raped if they live in a camp, and because of this their husbands, fathers, brothers are disowning them because of cultural misunderstandings) and even more people could die. Personally, I worry because Sudan, China, and Russia are all allies. The UN would have a bit of a job going up against these three countries united, and the Vice President of Sudan said in August that if Bashir was arrested, a "war" would start.
Its difficult to know how to feel right now, as someone who is so close to this issue. I am relieved and glad that Bashir is being brought up on charges, along with multiple other leaders in this human rights catastrophe. But justice isn't what is realistically important right now. It's hard to point fingers and put someone away for an issue that is continuing as I type this, and has complete potential to get worse. The first priority of the agencies (and I agree) is with the people of this terrified region. When they are safe, and can return to where they called home to rebuild their lives... that's when this devastating chapter in human negligence and hatred can finally close.
Anyway, the genocide in Darfur was what prompted me to want to take action against human rights abuses. It all started with a speech by Angelina Jolie, who was new to the UNHCR post and had just finished a multi-national tour to numerous third-world countries across the planet (including war torn Afghanistan, and post civil-war Sierra Leone). Her speech was on CSPAN, and I just remember feeling angry and appalled. She was speaking about an issue where (at the time) a million people were displaced and 100,000 had died. Those numbers have officially tripled (although unofficially, they have quadrupled... but not many agencies are publishing those numbers for some ungodly reason).
The genocide itself is government sanctioned, coming from Omar Al-Bashir and his cabinet. Of course, the militia get their guns from the Chinese, because China gets their oil from Sudan and that's just how trade works these days. Chalk it up for yet another reason we need another source of fuel- preferably one that doesn't fund mass murder. But alas, another digression!
Anyway, in August Bashir was brought up on charged by the ICC. At the time, no one reported this, with the exception of a tiny scroll on CNN that was about 7 words long. The amount of airtime the event received was less then the amount of airtime Chris Brown's rage has received in the last two days. This was absolutely infuriating to myself and anyone else who has been campaigning and petitioning to multiple governments since 2003 (or for me, 2005... I was late to the game. But not as late at the people who had to see George Clooney go on Oprah before figuring it out. God Bless Clooney AND Oprah for globalizing the issue the way grassroots agencies can't!). However, considering the first 5 years of the issue received (literally) 36 minutes of airtime on every American news station this sort of understated, ignorant reaction was expected.
At the time, organizations working closely with the issue reported that it would take six months to know whether the ICC would actually issue a warrant for Bashir's arrest. No leader of a nation has ever been arrested while in office (Charles Taylor, whose trial is ongoing despite his sanctioned atrocities taking place in 1980, was arrested after the fact). Well, the six months have come and gone, and there are whispers of the decision coming from The Hague.
The New York Times has reported that a warrant has been issued for Bashir's arrest. The reporter sourced lawyers and other individuals related to the case. Five hours ago, an official statement from The Hague denied these claims. Whether the New York Times was misinformed, or people related to the case spoke too early is unknown right now. Frankly, I'm prone to believe that the warrant has been issued. The 6 month period has ended, and Bashir has had the audacity to go up for re-election this spring. Better to arrest him at the end of this term than at the beginning of the next one (because we all know, that elections in Africa don't actually elect new leaders, they merely get rigged so that a pre-determined winner remains in office.. *cough* Mugabe *cough*).
The issue is that if Bashir is arrested, the backlash on the people of Darfur, the UN Peacekeepers (the few that were actually deployed), and Journalists could be severe. The restricted green cards that are allowing international aid workers into the country could be revoked, which would sent Amnesty, Save Darfur, and countless other agencies packing and would leave the people defenseless. Extra attacks on the men, women, and children of the region could increase (although statistics right now already declare that any woman above the age of two has been raped if they live in a camp, and because of this their husbands, fathers, brothers are disowning them because of cultural misunderstandings) and even more people could die. Personally, I worry because Sudan, China, and Russia are all allies. The UN would have a bit of a job going up against these three countries united, and the Vice President of Sudan said in August that if Bashir was arrested, a "war" would start.
Its difficult to know how to feel right now, as someone who is so close to this issue. I am relieved and glad that Bashir is being brought up on charges, along with multiple other leaders in this human rights catastrophe. But justice isn't what is realistically important right now. It's hard to point fingers and put someone away for an issue that is continuing as I type this, and has complete potential to get worse. The first priority of the agencies (and I agree) is with the people of this terrified region. When they are safe, and can return to where they called home to rebuild their lives... that's when this devastating chapter in human negligence and hatred can finally close.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
A Letter
Dear Alex:
Yesterday I had two dreams about you. In the first, it was two days after our initial breakup, and instead of ignoring one another, you called me. We talked things out, we yelled and I cried, and then you got onto a train and came down and we talked everything out. Then the dream sped up to six months later, and we were still happy and communicating.
Later that night I had another dream, and we were walking around outside, being together and talking. Both dreams had us talking. Then suddenly I was running around my dorm room, throwing clothes into a basket and talking to you on the phone, planning some sort of trip we were going to go on that weekend to New York. My hair was long, and dark, and your voice was deeper.
I woke up more frustrated than upset. Almost exactly a month ago, I let it all go. We stopped talking as much, the fighting stopped, and I've been going out and talking with other guys (very, very casually... not actually "dating" but just being out) and taking steps to make me a happier, less fragile person. But the dreams derailed me a little bit, as vivid dreams often do. Everything you say anymore frustrates me, and I've tried terribly hard to make our relationship a distant memory... the hazy bottom of a muddy lake. But then things like this happen, and its like everything crystallizes and I see everything from the past come together in a clear image.
I suppose this all was triggered because I made an appointment with a counselor on Thursday, and I did it because of what happened, because I'm tired of allowing my Anxiety to run my life. Our breakup was not the first caused by one of my hysterical, anxiety-driven, panic-oriented freakouts. But I can't bear losing what I lost with you again, and I can't bear to see the damage that I've done, with you and my other ex's that I cared for deeply yet walked away from anyway. I can't stand to leave behind me a wake of wretchedness because I was too much of a chickenshit to admit that I am in over my head and I need help. I want to have healthy, loving relationships without waiting for the proverbial axe to drop.
Looking at the dreams, I'm happy that I have the sort of good memories that can still be manifested sometimes. I'll explain: the happiness of our relationship was positive enough that the tiniest blips of memory can still feed into dreams. I'm lucky, not many people have that kind of relationship with anybody where the thought of the memories still bring back the fierce power of the emotion or the frightened shock of loss that can still make my hands shake. I've been shown something powerful, and I can say that I've experienced love that seemed limitless, and I believe that it could have been in time. I'm happy for that, and thankful for that, and I hope that we both experience it again someday.
Sometimes I feel like those few months had enough love for a lifetime.
-Sarah Elizabeth
Yesterday I had two dreams about you. In the first, it was two days after our initial breakup, and instead of ignoring one another, you called me. We talked things out, we yelled and I cried, and then you got onto a train and came down and we talked everything out. Then the dream sped up to six months later, and we were still happy and communicating.
Later that night I had another dream, and we were walking around outside, being together and talking. Both dreams had us talking. Then suddenly I was running around my dorm room, throwing clothes into a basket and talking to you on the phone, planning some sort of trip we were going to go on that weekend to New York. My hair was long, and dark, and your voice was deeper.
I woke up more frustrated than upset. Almost exactly a month ago, I let it all go. We stopped talking as much, the fighting stopped, and I've been going out and talking with other guys (very, very casually... not actually "dating" but just being out) and taking steps to make me a happier, less fragile person. But the dreams derailed me a little bit, as vivid dreams often do. Everything you say anymore frustrates me, and I've tried terribly hard to make our relationship a distant memory... the hazy bottom of a muddy lake. But then things like this happen, and its like everything crystallizes and I see everything from the past come together in a clear image.
I suppose this all was triggered because I made an appointment with a counselor on Thursday, and I did it because of what happened, because I'm tired of allowing my Anxiety to run my life. Our breakup was not the first caused by one of my hysterical, anxiety-driven, panic-oriented freakouts. But I can't bear losing what I lost with you again, and I can't bear to see the damage that I've done, with you and my other ex's that I cared for deeply yet walked away from anyway. I can't stand to leave behind me a wake of wretchedness because I was too much of a chickenshit to admit that I am in over my head and I need help. I want to have healthy, loving relationships without waiting for the proverbial axe to drop.
Looking at the dreams, I'm happy that I have the sort of good memories that can still be manifested sometimes. I'll explain: the happiness of our relationship was positive enough that the tiniest blips of memory can still feed into dreams. I'm lucky, not many people have that kind of relationship with anybody where the thought of the memories still bring back the fierce power of the emotion or the frightened shock of loss that can still make my hands shake. I've been shown something powerful, and I can say that I've experienced love that seemed limitless, and I believe that it could have been in time. I'm happy for that, and thankful for that, and I hope that we both experience it again someday.
Sometimes I feel like those few months had enough love for a lifetime.
-Sarah Elizabeth
Monday, February 9, 2009
Cast of Characters Part II: State Edition
Okay, so it occured to me that I am in contact with more people than I introduced, so here are a few more names that you can farmiliarize yourself with, if you so choose.
Fiddles
I've know this girlie since I was thirteen. She was originally a friend of a friend but we got to talking one day and ever since then we'll talk for hours and hours when we get together. Of course, finding time to be together has always been incredibly difficult so we'll only really get to see each other every 6 months unless we're a part of the same activity. There was a period of time in the past where we were dating guys from the same group, which was really awesome at the time because we got to hang out multiple times a week.
BW
He's an ex boyfriend who I had actually been friends with through Art classes in high school. He's a year older than I am so he graduted the year before me. We went out for maybe two months, and things really didn't work out at the time. That was two years ago. Since then we've been in contact here and there, and we hang out every so often. I've always had a lot of fun when we're together, and he's pretty hilarious.
JC
I met JC in seventh grade when she moved to New Jersey. I was apprehensive at first, because I wasn't fond of meeting new people. But now we have a lot of inside jokes and we go to college pretty close to one another, so we'll see each other when we go into the city or somesuch. My caffeine addiction can be attributed largely to her, because I had had nothing but those synthetic wawa cappuchinos until we started hanging out in a real coffee shop on a weekly basis.
K
She dorms next door to JC, and during an NYC trip we took in October, K came along. As it turns out, K and I are almost identical people. I knew she was awesome when her first words to me were... "so you're my doppleganger!" I get the biggest kick out of this chica, and its always great to be tackled by her the second you enter a building. Also, she has an amazing snese of style.
Anne
Also dorms with JC, but is her roommate. She's pretty quiet but definately crazy funny. She's one of those mucho skilled people who speaks 3-4 languages and plays guitar. She also can pretty much throw any outfit together and somehow come out successful, which is the sort of person I've always respected because my own closet weilds little promise to fashionistas anywhere. She makes an excellent threesome with JC and K, and together they're all amazing!
Coming Soon: Cast of Characters: College Edition!
*Update* Please note there is a post under this one, because I scheduled this post to be published on Monday but somehow published it today by mistake. So, you get two posts today... but none tomorrow. Don't fill up too quick! :)
Fiddles
I've know this girlie since I was thirteen. She was originally a friend of a friend but we got to talking one day and ever since then we'll talk for hours and hours when we get together. Of course, finding time to be together has always been incredibly difficult so we'll only really get to see each other every 6 months unless we're a part of the same activity. There was a period of time in the past where we were dating guys from the same group, which was really awesome at the time because we got to hang out multiple times a week.
BW
He's an ex boyfriend who I had actually been friends with through Art classes in high school. He's a year older than I am so he graduted the year before me. We went out for maybe two months, and things really didn't work out at the time. That was two years ago. Since then we've been in contact here and there, and we hang out every so often. I've always had a lot of fun when we're together, and he's pretty hilarious.
JC
I met JC in seventh grade when she moved to New Jersey. I was apprehensive at first, because I wasn't fond of meeting new people. But now we have a lot of inside jokes and we go to college pretty close to one another, so we'll see each other when we go into the city or somesuch. My caffeine addiction can be attributed largely to her, because I had had nothing but those synthetic wawa cappuchinos until we started hanging out in a real coffee shop on a weekly basis.
K
She dorms next door to JC, and during an NYC trip we took in October, K came along. As it turns out, K and I are almost identical people. I knew she was awesome when her first words to me were... "so you're my doppleganger!" I get the biggest kick out of this chica, and its always great to be tackled by her the second you enter a building. Also, she has an amazing snese of style.
Anne
Also dorms with JC, but is her roommate. She's pretty quiet but definately crazy funny. She's one of those mucho skilled people who speaks 3-4 languages and plays guitar. She also can pretty much throw any outfit together and somehow come out successful, which is the sort of person I've always respected because my own closet weilds little promise to fashionistas anywhere. She makes an excellent threesome with JC and K, and together they're all amazing!
Coming Soon: Cast of Characters: College Edition!
*Update* Please note there is a post under this one, because I scheduled this post to be published on Monday but somehow published it today by mistake. So, you get two posts today... but none tomorrow. Don't fill up too quick! :)
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