Ummm, it's the second star to the right and..

Sometimes I don't talk because I don't think you really want to listen.

Many people who first meet me say "she's a quiet one."  Which I think is funny because I'm really not at all.  Actually most of my life I've been scolded for talking too much or too loud.  But on the other end of that spectrum I can be just as quiet.  "What are you thinking?" I've heard more times than I can count.  I wish that more often I could collect my thoughts and display them in a correct order of words to get exactly across how I feel and exactly when I feel them.  Most of the time I don't express something until it is too late, after my mind has processed this universe of thought into a flat plane of exsistance.  That's the only way I can describe it, my dyslexia in a way.  Saying things I don't mean and meaning things I don't say.

So instead I'm the quiet one.  Lost in my head.  Wishing I could bring to life the bumbling thoughts that circle around like tumble weed in a desert.  That being said, I think it's about time I start being more quiet, at least here.  Not that I think I've said too much or too little but I've just come to realize that it's time for me to take this energy and transfer it where it properly belongs, in my journal.  Where there is no sensor, no filter, no rules, no regulations.  Life is so full of twists and turns and stops and goes and constrictions anyways, why not have one place to be free of this?  I don't think I should burden you all with my petty insight, especially when I keep much of who I am private from the world anyways. 

I can't believe this year is already over, reflecting, it hasn't been easy.  But none of you would know about that anyways.  It's been an uphill climb, it's been trial and error, it's been me growing up, and realizing that I'm not a kid anymore and I can no longer return to nevernever land, ever again. 

Maybe I should give up, give in.

Give up trying to be thin.
Give up and turn into my mother.
God knows I love her.

I locked myself out of the apartment.  When do I not lock myself out of hmm, my dorm, my house on my way to work, my car, my apartment?  Basically anything that has a door with a lock which I hold a key to.  And always that rush of the door that closes behind me in and one roaring whoosh of air the realization that.  fuck.  I did it again.  I got back in though, and then as punishment decided to clean the ever loving crap out of it.  It may be all the coffee I've had as well.  Either way it's sparkling now.  Well, off to enjoy the rest of the weekend. Off to explore Lizard's head. 

Blah ditty blah

I like this picture cause my face is all blurry and stuff.  Tonight was sooooo eventful.  Winston is sick and shat everywhere.  So In between washing clothes, running errands, cleaning the apartment, and getting lost in World Market, I got to clean up shit and wash said stinky poo cat.  I really need to make some friends out here.  No really, I've been you-tubing and drinking wine all night.

Never let me go.

Jesus.
If you'd like to be totally depressed and hopeless.
Read this novel.
It never gets good.  It just festers and drags slowly painfully on about how tragic life can be.  How people can fuck over others in their selfishness and how most accept their agonizing fate and slip away just like the rest of them.  I cried yes, but more in anger at the damn book than anything else.  It's hard to believe so many people would just "allow" such a cruel and unusual way of life.  The easy part is believing how nasty people, no matter what their situation can be.  And how selfishness can truly fuck other people up.  It's probably the trait I dislike the most in people.  Making decisions based solely on their emotions and drives.  It was so fucked.

Lately I've been drawn to my life exactly as it was one year ago.. mainly because I became much more self aware in the that month of November, I took a little journey of self realization and although it wasn't an easy one it was one hell of a fun ride.  I felt, for the first time, free of a lot of things.  I was planning a trip to NYC, just as I'm doing now but I was laughing every night, I was spending lots of time with my friends.  Last year I was camping in Dixon on a most unusual awkward night of craziness and fun.  Gloria and I ended up talking all night about some pretty deep stuff watching the sun rise over the town.  I remember I was late for work.  My boss said something to me about being late in which I apologized profusely and mentioned the meteor shower.  He turned to me and said, and I'll never forget this, ever.. "Meteor showers don't pay the bills."  I remember I shook my head and headed still half asleep to my desk.  I sat there and let his message settle somewhere between my stomach and my heart.  I know they don't pay the bills, but fuck it.  They make me feel something more than a day at the office ever will.  Laying there watching as these beautiful greens and purples grazed the sky, feeling like some kind of magnet looking out into the mysterious universe out there gave me more satisfaction than any amount of green printed pieces of paper ever have or ever will.  Period.  And knowing the difference, well there was a definite change in me that day one that's been enveloping over the past year.  One that has taught me that no matter how bad things look or bleak, I have the ability to make it a fun wild ride with plenty of stories to pass on throughout the years.  I don't accept my fate.  I will face it.  Fuck those kids in "Never let me go."  I won't let myself imagine what could have been and focus on what is happening.  

Recently an old friend passed away.  Yes he was well into his 80's and yes, I tend to and still do somehow befriend the oldest person in the room.  But he was a great man.  My mom texted me while I was in DC about his passing and I was really upset by it.  I missed his memorial but my mom saved me a booklet.  I read about his life, stories he hadn't told me, he lived a fulfilling life, and I can only hope to accomplish half of what he did.

Everyone sounds better on paper.

A million ideas enveloped and died in the back of my brain today.  I had a nightmare about shoes last night.  Fuck.  I recently had a lucid dream.  I awoke and told someone about how I indeed had a lucid dream.  Only to wake up and afterward realize I was dreaming the entire time.  Does that count?  I'm not sure.

Halloween has come and past and I didn't even dress up this year.  Not that it mattered, I had a good Halloween, D.C. was nice, actually at first it reminded me of a clean less crowded version of NYC.  Until, that is, the East coast snobbery reared it's ugly head, that and everything closes at like 4pm.  The monuments were gorgeous though.  It's crazy how something like that can evoke such strong feelings.  A mass of stone and brick can cause you to dig deep into your head. 

Today was kind of weird.. I did NOT want to get up.  8:30am is killing me.  Didn't get home until 6pm only to find out that the republicans took the house.  Double shit.  For some reason the same feeling I got when Bush got re-elected came back.  I wanted to blare music and drown out the news.  On days like these when not much can be done, I just want to bury my head in the sand and weep. 


I really don't want to go to bed, but my back hurts and my boyfriend's warm.. and also taking up the entire bed.. Maybe I'll read a bit of "Never let me go" and then go to bed.  I finished Post Office yesterday and it was great, I've always like Bukowski's style, he cut's the crap which I love, I'm not one to love pages and pages describing a turtle crossing the road.  Sorry Steinbeck.  But my sister recommended this book and since she reads like 5 gazillion times more books than I, I trust her opinion. 

 2010 is beginning to wind down.. and the countdown begins on the by far most whirlwind year of my life.