Holy Halloween

It's Halloween morning and like always on Halloween, the air is mobile and the sky is nice and dark. It's still sunny, though the light seems to be coming from anywhere else but the sun. The light, the wind, the leaves running around...I love Halloween. As a kid growing up in Tennessee, I would always make it a point to go off by myself on a walk to the woods or something just so I could be with Halloween. Everything was different on this day; the light, the air, the clouds, and I wanted to be with it as it was happening. Halloween makes me happy.

I remember being really young and my mom having to turn the closet light on so I could sleep. I also would never dangle my legs over the edge of the bed because whatever was under there was hoping for that kind of mistake. What I don't remember is when all that shifted. I can only imagine I got a glimpse of some 60's horror classic and that was all it took. My absolute #1 favorite childhood memories are of me, self- sequestered in the living room on Sunday afternoons with curtains drawn, watching episodes of Shock Theater. I so looked forward to that couple of hours with Dracula or The Creature From the Black Lagoon...whatever it was, it was mine alone.

Needless to say, none of that has changed. I still love horror movies, and I'm still surrounded by monsters of all kinds. Some from my childhood and others collected throughout the years. I'm not speaking figuratively this time. I do have quite a collection of creatures in my midst, some of which are frowned upon by the squeamish, but they make me feel good. I was never happier than when I was holed up in that living room, alone at last, to watch my scary movie. Monsters make me happy and today is the day when we celebrate them walking around with dead things. How cool is that?

I'm distracted by the light. Every time I look up I have to marvel at the scene. The leaves flying by sideways, the grays; seriously where is the sunlight coming from? It's been a while since I've had nothing to do all day except enjoy Halloween on Halloween. So that's what I'm doing.

Holy shiv

I've been wanting to write here for a long time but ironically, the things I want to put down are...well, the blog used to be much more anonymous. I'm either going to have to get over it, go ahead and spill it sin miedo, or pick up the old, analog pen and paper. For now, I wanted to shed some light on why this blog is named Holy Bras.

It all started when my friend Brad and I would text each other certain exclamations. All this is common knowledge now but we found it quite amusing that "holy shit" would come up as "holy shiv", and as well, "holy crap" would initially come up as "holy bras". We spent many nights on my porch in the summer doubled over laughing each time the use of these terms would come up in our everyday conversations. Now I find myself even speaking the words "holy shiv" and I just chuckled as I wrote it. I don't know why. I just always think of those nights on my porch laughing hysterically with Brad while my downstairs neighbor yelled at us to shut up. When I decided to put the link to this blog on my FB account, I was afraid of what people might think of the name; and by people, I mean those FB ghosts who show up eventually from the past. But as I sit here and remind myself how the name was born, I feel silly for my embarrassment. That memory is one of my top treasures.

D

I feel the need to write this down so...I am. It's not too often that I go out on my porch to smoke a cigarette, but I do. My neighbors and the part of me that is in touch with reality will want to point out that these occasions are more often than previously stated. With that said, the point is that every single time; and I mean every time I go out to smoke, the fire truck comes tearing around the corner and past my building. This is clearly a sign. The question is which sign; that I'm paranoid and grossly self-centered? Or that I need to give up that habit all together? All of the above?

Paused

     It is clear to me that I no longer have time to write here at the moment. This is a good spot to end a chapter anyway, I think. I feel lame admitting that I can't maintain my "journal" but I am too busy now and am about to get even busier. Work is outrageous and I start Spanish classes this coming Tuesday. I look forward to picking up here again in the near future. It's helpful to me in surprising ways. Today the sun is finally out and I am going to sit on my porch and be a cat for a few. Until I come back...Later.

Redeeming Qualities

     Lately I've been really busy. It has been a little difficult because it renders me paralyzed as far as writing here goes and so I carry around this monkey on my back. At last, here I sit. 

     Not too long ago, a friend turned me on to this prison series that was on HBO called Oz. I love prison movies so I found that it ran 6 seasons starting in 1997 I think, and of course I could watch it online. It rocks so!  The characters are many and various as are the themes, but the one that I notice is the "how can I right my wrongs?" theme... then in the next 60 seconds chalk up another wrong while genuinely yearning to be better." I guess it's a more complicated theme than I thought when I started that wording. That is a theme I think about pretty much daily. I don't believe I am doing anything wrong per se, but I don't feel as though I'm doing exactly right, or as right as I could. One guy in the prison is constantly looking for ways to redeem himself while digging himself deeper in the process. I don't feel like that exactly, but I feel like I'm waiting for punishment. I don't know if that's because I did something bad and forgot, but my subconscious is aware. Or is my strict Southern Baptist upbringing, full of punishment and spare-the-rod... at play in cahoots with guilt? Am I simply paranoid? All I know is that I feel the need to do good; to be good. I don't feel shame and I don't feel quilt. No. I struggle with shame and quilt but I am on top. I just feel that I need to step up and help the healing process in general and maybe that can show the universe or whatever that I am a good person; show myself that I am a good person. I am not 100% sure where any of this is coming from or leading to, but I feel the need for redemption for some of my past and present selfish behaviors. Selfishness is an umbrella term in my mind, covering many transgressions. I cling to the idea that many of my own regrettable moves were directly associated with addiction which, had it not been for the need, the deed would not have been. I am a good person. I just hope I can avoid the shank, both defensive and offensive as I try to become better. 

Untitled

I feel like there is something that I'm suppose to be doing or remembering. I feel like something has gone wrong but I can't identify what exactly. Actually, I feel like a huge lightening bolt sized glass spear has javelined me through but missed vital organs leaving me scewered yet spared. Something is wrong. I hate this feeling. I've had it before many times. When I perform any self-examination, I can't find any offending moral issues or falsehoods that I may be supporting. I don't think I manufacture this feeling consciously but who knows. As a matter of fact, things seem to be on the upswing. Work has picked up to an almost overwhelming pace, I am very close to getting my driver's license back from my past transgressions, an unresolved financial issue that has been dragging on is 2 days from resolve, and summer is finally here. All these very positive and solidifying events are churning, but I feel unable to put things into perspective. I'm happy enough these days but I can't escape this feeling of dread. It's very frustrating writing this because it doesn't really make much sense. I sound like a brat. If something is wrong, I want to identify and fix it. I don't need my feelings going off and deciding for themselves what is and is not without my knowledge or involvement. My only consolation at this point is that by Friday, one major milestone will be behind me; the mere conclusion being more vital than the outcome. I'm hoping that maybe some relief will follow. This is by far the most frustrating, un-liberating, un-relieving entry that I've made in this blog. Maybe that's why I took so long to write. It all sounds like such shit. I have nothing to offer myself for comfort. That made me laugh. I sound truly crazy. I feel truly crazy. There's really nothing else to say.

Back Burner

     I am so busy lately I am not able to sit down and write. Because of this, I am obsessing about writing and cannot truly relax until I do. I don't have anything in particular to say but I know I need to keep up activity on this or it will atrophy as it is doing right now. I will return to enter a complete post as soon as I get back from my appointment.

Out With the Old Out With the New

      I'm going to start this entry but I'm not sure it will actually survive. I'm not 100% sure that the subject is one I want to unleash. But here goes. A while back, actually about 3 years ago I started taking medication for depression. I agreed to do this kicking and screaming for fear that the very fabric of my being was being threatened with extinction; that fabric being my depression, my morbidity, my Eeyore-ism, my cynicism, my sarcasm, all the things that make up my winning personality. Another problem I had with the whole medication thing was the timing. I had just stopped drinking and BOOM,  I'm immediately directed to start taking this stuff. But shouldn't we maybe wait and see what I'm like sober first?  Apparently not. Once I finally agreed, it was on the condition that 1) I didn't want to gain a million pounds as I've heard some medications blamed for, and 2) I didn't want said medication anywhere near my libido. Who takes depression medication that will erase one's sex life? That's like taking depression medication to make one depressed. So I guess everything proceeded as planned. For 3 years I was sober, skinny, horny and happy, for the most part. The thing about medication though, is at some point you have to stop taking it. At least I do. So that's where I am now. I am taking half my regular dose now and lo and behold, I am sleeping like a house cat. I'm sitting here writing this with plans to go back to bed when I'm finished. I realize I shouldn't and who knows, maybe I won't but I do notice a difference in myself. I don't doubt that everything will balance itself out in the end but in the meantime I feel like crap. It feels like coming off any other drug, which if you've been paying attention, feels like crap. So I'm struggling right now to attend to things that need my attention and to focus on things that aren't related to sleep. I also realized that my cutting back on my medication (supervised by the way) and the fact that my hands look like they've been manicured by a wood chipper, are most likely related. I guess this has a way of making things interesting but I'm not interested in this kind of "interesting". I want outward interesting. I'm sick of inward interesting. I need to decide how to focus my attention and where. I need to get on board with this transition until it's complete. I need to stop channeling wood chippers. I need to stay away from the bed, after this time. Hopefully, I'll be good as new, or good as before; I'm not sure which is the intended goal.

Sacrifice

     I have just recently gnashed off many brave fingernails that dared to mount a comeback on my historically doomed hands. The loss is great. Everything I had worked for is now gnawed back to the stumpy carnage of my less disciplined days. I wonder if I might be vicariously giving myself a haircut through my fingernails. It could be that; or it could be that I'm insecure, anxious, nervous, and whatever else causes one to ritually chew away the tips of themselves. But I am in the market for a haircut so it's probably a combination of things. I go back and forth with this hair issue because some days I have really good hair days, and some days it's all I can do to stay away from scissors. Just when I'm ready to bust down the door of Sal's Barber Shop someone, (an acquaintance) will grab me by the shoulders, look me square in the face and say how good I look, how great my "haircut" is, etc. My friend who is moving to L. fucking A. goddamit is trying to get me interested in moving out there also. In the spirit of open-mindedness I looked at the L.A. personal ads to see what the L.A. chicks look like and look for. Every single one of the ladies that I checked out either stated they wanted feminine women or checked long hair in their "turn on" box. By simply growing my hair I can cross over into another check box. I'm still lost to the feminine seekers no matter how long my hair gets I'm afraid. In fact, if I get to the ponytail stage I might end up looking like a skinny hippy guy. Tragic. One thing is certain; that I must reactivate the no chew zone. As I survey the damage, I'm glad I didn't get to my hair first. This would have been a very different entry.   

I am...

     I feel like a house of cards today. It's a beautiful, hot, sunny day outside and I have allowed someone to put the wrong card in the wrong spot and collapse me. It's exactly like that. One unsavory, yet not surprising interaction with a "friend" and I could not recover. I seriously tried to put this in perspective and move on but before in knew it, the whole structure was slowly coming down. Now my resolve and all the strides that I tell myself I've made are one big pile of 52 card pick-up. In times like these I feel like my life is one big lie. Time goes by just fine with financial struggle, self-esteem conflict, responsibility juggling, just life in general; and then I somehow find my way back to this state of mind which tells me that nothing is ok. So that puts me in two different realities; the one where I convince myself that everything is or will be ok and this one. I try to trust in the things will be alright campaign but too often it is this present reality that I return to. So which one is real? I'm sure there's balance to be found here somewhere but I have yet to find it. I am tired. I am disgusted. I am discouraged. I am lonely. I am hurt. I am pissed. And that was just my day. Now, to rebuild. 

Lost

 

     I just got this thing in the mail that says, "Happy Birthday, Lisa". It's a promotion for 2 airline tickets anywhere in the continental blah blah. I know the catch is listening to some crap for an hour or so and then you're free to go with tickets in hand. I want these tickets so I call to get everything set up. It turns out that I don't qualify for the ticket(s) because I'm single. I didn't cause much of a stir over this but I did mention to the woman on the phone that the "document" did say Happy Birthday Lisa and that alone should qualify me. When I began writing this I thought it was kind of funny, but the more time I spend on it, the worse I feel about it. I can't and won't allow it to get to me though. I just think it's funny in a pathetic kind of way. I am already off my game lately anyway. I'm procrastinating things, hiding from my friends, biting my fingers like they're chicken wings, and being disorganized and unfocused in general. The presence of any one of those things is a yellow flag for me but now that I have the whole team here, I'm getting my ass kicked. I don't have a noble goal and I don't look to try to end on a positive note. I feel kind of neutral, which feels kind of empty. And now all I can do is stare.   

Emphasis on the "Happy"

     My birthday is coming soon. I decided this year that I'm going to try to actually enjoy it. I'm also going to try not to be so surly about the mere existence of April. My normal routine is to plant a scowl deep in my face; gloating in the reinforcement of my wrath with every falling drop of our alleged future May flowers. But not this year. This year I'm going to let people cook for me. I'm going to invite people to "birthday whatevers" and not feel guilty or awkward or uncomfortable that it is my fault that they are there. When someone asks me what my favorite cake is I'm going to tell them. I'm going to look forward to gifts although I think this will be the most difficult thing to pull off. I obviously don't expect gifts but I'm not going to dread them like I usually do. Historically, gift opening has been my nightmare. Thanks Mom. I decided all of this around February and at that time it seemed doable. But now that April is here I find it much harder to keep up my sunny disposition, which is worrisome because it's only April 4th.

      Besides the joys of localized flooding and my birthday, my Mom died a week after my birthday which puts a little extra pox on the month. I'm not going to lie, deep down, right this second I fucking hate April and my birthday. I really needed to get that out. The point is, I want to try to feel differently about both. I think sometimes it's just my Spring excuse to wallow in self pity and be on my best worst behavior. So as April gains momentum and I slog through it with a huge smile plastered to my face, I will be eating fried chicken, mashed potatoes, peas and deviled eggs for my birthday dinner. I think I also have at least 2 chocolate on chocolate cakes in my very near future. And right now I am actually half smiling.  

Smog Alert

     It's official. I'm depressed. I got back from a little vacation in Florida (where it rained the whole time) and now I find myself in a hole. I don't know exactly what to blame but there are many suspects. Besides the weather itself which I refuse to complain about, it seems like everything in my life all the sudden is ugly. One of my friendships is going sour. Another one might be going West and one "friendship" that has been long dead has risen to try to poison my hard earned contentment, for lack of a better word. I've also been a little under the weather but that's a chicken and egg scenario. I think it was the depression that caused that. I was doing my best to ignore all this for days but now I have to get it out, put it down and deal with it accordingly I guess.  I don't like feeling this way like I used to. This used to be "my way", how I was comfortable feeling, but now it's just pollution. I don't even get fully awake until I get smogged in.  For the rest of the day I have that perpetual morning feeling and not only that, I look like I just woke up all through the day. I look like and feel like that now; I'm so pissed. I like happy and friendly and love and good. Now, through some random circumstances I have to go backward and deal with angry and grouchy and venom and bad. I guess maybe I'm being sort of a baby about this because the truth is, I have to go backward and fight for myself. I've gotten spoiled by the fact that lately everything has been relatively easy to deal with/get through. Now I'm being challenged and inconvenienced and all hell is breaking loose. Maybe I'm being too dramatic. I need some localized perspective I guess. The friendship that is going sour never actually got to the point of sweet as hard as it tried. I should be happy for the one who might be going West because he is happy. As for the zombie one, I just have to deal with that one as best I can. I'm an expert with monsters and dead things so it should be no problem. Now I just need to stop feeling and looking like crap. I just sat here for a few minutes thinking about that statement and realized that it's going to be harder than just typing it into a machine. I feel sick and ugly and polluted. Plus I think my cat is mad at me still from my vacation. I'm trying to end on a positive note but I am struggling. Maybe right now it's the best I can do. Try.

More to come

     I have been just too busy to write lately but not writing is making me insane. I just sat down to write and immediately got a phone call from someone whose water heater is not working. Now I have to go help provide them with hot water while my mind is writing in my blog. One of my biggest fears (for lack of a better word) is that I will allow this endeavor to go stale. I will have to try again later because I feel like I have a monkey on my back. Right now though, I have to go play hot water hero. To be continued...

I refuse!!!

     Today I'm a little pissed off. It's hard enough to keep one's head on straight without opening the computer in the morning and being greeted by "cruel month for workers", and "jobless rate jumps blah blah", and "depression on the way". What is the real point to all that? I wonder what the people who actually have to write that stuff are thinking about the impact that it has on individuals, let alone the public as a whole. I'm not blaming the people who are actually setting those words to type but I do wonder if they think about what the impact is on individuals or the public as a whole. Seriously, when that is the first thing I see in the morning what am I suppose to do with that information; remain frightened and depressed possibly from the previous mornings reports? Am I suppose to go ahead and take the shot, go ahead and make that slice in my wrist, go ahead and flee the country? I am already using a good portion of my precious moments trying to fight off panic when it decides to rear it's ugly head and I'm sure I'm not alone. But then the battle becomes much bigger as I/we must fight off the attacks of the information system itself.  Sure, these are hard times, but we should not have to fight for our happiness, and loveliness, and creativity, and all things positive that give us acceleration to hope, just because things are tough. Fuck you media headlines!!! I am so pissed off right now. I want to be stable and grounded, and I hate when people use words like that but I just did. And I'm for the first time that I can remember tearfully angry that someone is trying to recklessly instill fear and panic into not just me but the entire public when that is the last thing we need right now. I have to end this rant somehow and go get myself back on track. I know that this media scare tactic is not new but my desire to move forward and upward is.  I can only imagine my feelings multiplied by millions of people who read that shit; the pall of emotional pollution that must be hanging over us all. I am doing my best to keep hope alive. Keep alive. Live.

Party on

      A couple of things have been on my mind lately. One has to do with a semi-ongoing tension that exists between a couple of my neighbors. I live in an apartment building with 6 units, so when I say neighbors, I mean across the hall or upstairs, whatever. The issue in this case is basically noise related. Neighbor #1 likes to have people over on the weekend for some Rock Band sessions. This will almost always end in the old broomstick on the ceiling trick, and way before midnight. I believe that midnight is the noise reduction time in an apartment building on a weekend. Anyway, sometimes this takes place between 10:30 and 11:00 which illustrates a complete lack of tolerance, at least to me. Lo and behold the day did come that broomstick neighbor had a party. No one in the building was "invited" and by that I mean informed of this which to me is common courtesy in an apartment building; especially when you plan on pumping that amount of bass. I never hear broomstick neighbor but I did this night. The music actually ended around 12:30 or so and I had to get up early so I was happy about that. I almost wanted to say something to broomstick gal but in the end, my life was not that negatively affected. Neighbor #1 was able to slyly get her two cents in about the noise while accidentally passing broomstick on the way out, but refrained from being rude. (#1 doesn't have a natural rude bone in her body.) However, #1 does have a habit of stacking "things" outside the door of the apartment that are either trash or stuff to take to storage. Generally, things that she doesn't want to have in the apartment at the time. Her door is 5 feet from my door and now I have to look at the stuff that she doesn't want to. The thing that is interesting to me is that #1 doesn't even remotely think that this may also be a form of inconsideration. It is after all a common area. And while it does bother me, I don't feel I need to say anything because it's a battle I/we just don't need. My life is not that negatively affected by "the stuff". I just wish that people could recognize the fact that consideration and tolerance take on many forms and are neglected in many ways. Another reason I don't bring this to #1's attention is because I'm not sure that I am not currently engaged in some type of "getting on a nerve" of someone myself. In a nutshell, which I am aware this isn't, I have learned from broomstick that tolerance given is tolerance received. I've learned from #1 that sometimes we are totally unaware that the smallest of our actions sometimes do affect others. And from myself, pick your battles; is it really worth a possible misunderstanding or worse, confrontation? Usually not. I will try from now on to take a step back, think about what I'm doing and, at least until midnight, party on.

   

Disappearing act

      Once again, I find myself struggling to write here. I cannot let any more time pass or I know I will lose interest and once again, abandon the whole thing like a good Aries.  Allegedly, we Aries' are really good at starting things and really bad at finishing them. My case is not so alleged, however, so that's why I'm here, forcing myself to write. 

      Ok, what just happened? I wrote this whole post about my cat's birthday party this past weekend and all the anxiety surrounding the fact that I was having a social gathering. I was almost finished and somehow, I ended up disappearing all of it except that first paragraph. I won't say deleting it because somehow as I was typing along, it just disappeared. I know this thing saves everything I write about every other word so I have no idea what happened. I'm a little embarrassed and more than a little annoyed at the fact that what was my successfully writing when I didn't want to, is now a bunch of crap. All I can think of to say are onomonopias. Before, I was all ready to feel good and disciplined at a task completed and now I have an instant headache. Oh, (heavy sigh). This will have to do for now. I'll try again another time. 

Daily delimma

     I haven't been in a serious emotional relationship in a few years. Surprisingly, I find it embarrassing to admit how many years it has been. In fact, I didn't realize how many until I sat here just now to try to count. To be brutally honest, I haven't been in a serious emotional relationship in about 8 years. That line took alot of minutes to write and included fighting back a few tears. But that is not suppose to be the focus of this entry. All of it just took me by surprise. Most of my friends are in relationships, from the newly anointed serial monogamist to the legally married. I regularly am privy to the workings of these various relationships and their ups, downs, triumphs and tragedies. Oftentimes I secretly analyze the inner workings of these accords as they would pertain to my own imaginary relationship and I find that there are many common threads I reject, at least from the outside looking in. I find the lack of independence to be discomforting from a single person's perspective. For instance, one of my best friends asks that his partner not go out to bars while he is away pursuing advancement in his passion for art. That makes my head spin a little because on one hand there exists independence, for he is off doing his thing. On the other hand there is restriction. From my point of view, this is a red flag. However, I'm loathe to trust my point of view because of my status. Can a person who is not in a relationship get a true picture of what is good or bad for themselves by viewing other relationships? Does being in a relationship cloud the perspective to the point of blocking out simple incongruities such as independence and restriction working hand in hand? Would I behave differently if I were actually involved with someone? I don't know if I am any closer to answering any of my questions because every question produces more questions. When I stand back and consider this entire entry, it is all irrelevant anyway. It is just my daily observations that I try to apply to my life and at the moment, they simply do not apply. By putting the relationships that surround me under a microscope, am I helping to bring myself closer to, or further away from my own potential connection? God, I'm beginning to sound like Carrie Bradshaw. Maybe it was a mistake to open this can of worms but these are the questions I ask myself. Dare I say to be continued? Absolutely! I can't stop myself. 

Unwanted visitor

      The oddest thing ever, happened this morning. I was doing my normal morning routine of feed cat, make coffee, look for job, when out of the blue, or more to the point, out of the black, I suddenly missed my mom. I have never had this sensation before in my life. Never! My mom has been dead for over 10 years. I don't remember exactly when because I don't want to spend that much time thinking about it, but it's been a while. It happened as I was wrapping up the initial Craig's List job scan. There were fewer than usual "jobs" there today and suddenly, and I mean in an instant, the sensation came. I missed my mom. I can't begin to impart how foreign that is. My mom and I were never close. In fact, she didn't like me very much at all because of my sexuality. I grew up in rural Tennessee and she was devoutly religious and brought me and my sibs up in the Baptist church. She actually disowned me in her will but I think she was angry when she did that and had she not died so suddenly, would have eventually corrected it. My point is, we were never close and she didn't actually like me as a person. Then today, more than a decade after her death, I suddenly miss her? There is no anniversary approaching and no birthday on the horizon. It's beyond inexplicable. I don't know what is going to come from this unwelcome pall that has settled, or is trying to settle over me but hopefully I can somehow exercise it safely back from whence it came. Needless to say, I am very uncomfortable with all this. Ironically, as I look out my window, the sky is looking very Tennessee. There is that land-locked looking cloud cover that gets trapped in the valley of the Smokey Mountains, feel to the day. But that's just a symptom of what is taking place in me I'm sure. A touch of homesick I guess to accompany the mom conundrum. So at this time, this is the color of my day. I will keep moving forward and hope that the color changes smoothly, a word I commonly do not associate with unwanted emotions. I am not going to idle here. I will accept and move on to the next challenge, the way I'm told that life is meant to be.  

      

Baffling and mysterious

      Yesterday was a really nice day visually. The sky was a great color all the way to evening. I guess the only thing stopping it from being an all around good day was the fact that it is still cold as F____ary. I was having a pretty good day personally also. I had a little work to do and beyond that, I had a bunch of personal stuff to take care of. I was busy basically, which is always a good thing. Sometime in the early evening I got a message from a friend of mine, actually two friends, that a job I had applied for in early January had called them for a reference. I had already written this job off because it had seemed such a long time since I had interviewed that I just thought they had chosen someone else or no one fitting had come along yet. When I got this news, first I was excited. Then immediately following the excitement was total fear. It was like when you almost have a car accident and your knees and elbows get all weak and noodley. I felt like an impostor even to myself. Thoughts of "I can't do this job", "They're going to find out now that I am a huge fake and a liar", all kinds of stuff like that. I mean I had a physical reaction for crying out loud. Adverse to be exact. This is a perfect example of my typical behavior. Where one would expect to find relief, excitement, hope for the future, even a burst of self-confidence, instead there is fear, dread, and self-doubt. Not that long ago I would nurse these latter feelings into full on adulthood to the point where they could actually dwell comfortably inside me and even be welcomed. But I am actually on a campaign to eradicate such parasitic emotions within myself. Something most humans I imagine do on a daily basis without any thought whatsoever. It's fascinatingly difficult to be honest. It makes me laugh thinking about how hard it is to feel good about something as simple as landing a job. I keep having to force myself to think in a positive, forward, self-rewarding direction. By that I mean several times a day. I know I'm beginning to sound like a therapy overdose case (or underdose whichever way you look at it) but I am a late bloomer when it comes to emotional wellness for lack of a better term. It's fascinating to me how far I've allowed myself to be mossed over by the thoughts that for once, I'm hearing for what they really are. I really am my own worst enemy. I know what that means now first hand. I have been my own evil stepmother for as long as I can remember. I'm going to try to put me in neutral today and keep on track with the thing that is in front of me whatever that is. I can honestly say that I am happy at this moment in time and that thought appearing on the screen in front of me makes my eyes water a little bit. I don't understand it completely but there it is. Simple I know but for me, baffling and mysterious. 

Just for me

      I am unable to write for some reason. I didn't want to go for more than a day without writing something at least. This is really a journal for me. I'm not trying to teach anyone how to shop frugally and I don't have any lofty opinions on politics or french cooking. I'm just trying to keep a more consistent journal than I've ever been able to in the past with a book and a pen. I seriously have about 6 or 7 half filled to even less than half filled "journals" that eventually get set aside and ultimately abandoned. I have found that writing does seem to do me some good and I don't want to abandon another, so I'm trying this method. It's more of an exercise in discipline I suppose. As much as I would like to be clever and profound or even self-enlightening, I must endure all that goes with this commitment I've made to evaluate and change some of my behavior. If that means taking 20-30 minutes to sit here and write "absolutely nothing", then I will, and I just have. 

Unfamiliar words

      Today I woke up feeling good. But that feeling was accompanied by a feeling of impatience. I feel like there are things I want and need to be doing but am unable to at this time. I have been getting this feeling often lately. I wonder if it is because I really have limited choices right now due to my current work/financial situation. In other words, if I was financially flush and could actually make "a plan" would I? Is it because I can do so little that I want to do so much? Everything seems so urgent all of the sudden. I seem to have gotten a handle on my worrying and my woe-is-me, but find those things replaced by this anxiety or urgency or need for something "other". I guess I should remind myself that the opening sentence of this post is "Today I woke up feeling good" and let that run the show. I just need to slow down and do what's right in front of me. Or just slow down and do what's right, keeping my focus in front of me. It's a beautiful day outside and I feel good today. 

Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.

       This morning I found out that Lux Interior had died. I'm not all torn up about it per se but it is a bit unsettling every time one of our punk rock icons bites the dust. The article said he was 62 which isn't that old but still. Isn't Madonna 62? I don't know. All I know is it seems more natural for punk rockers to off themselves rather than dying of a heart condition as twisted as that sounds. So goodbye Lux. You at least appeared to have fun while you were here. 

      It's early February and that can mean only one thing. Well, I guess it can mean alot of things like "fuck, it's cold!" or "tax time again?". But besides all that, everywhere I look there is red and hearts and fat babies with weapons. Now, I know that Valentine's Day is a made up holiday just like mother's day and all that, but it is a little difficult to remove one's self from the candy buying frenzy that is taking place. For some reason, in the past I have allowed myself to be sucked in to the hype and have successfully convinced myself that because I don't have a partner, I am inadequate. The same sort of thing happens on mother's day because I no longer have a mother. This year I want to break that habit and I do believe it is a habit. To think it has taken me this long to realize that I don't have to feel ashamed because I have no "partner" or "significant other" or "wife" even. As a matter of fact, I wonder if I didn't secretly look forward to Valentine's Day so I could feel like crap. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not somewhat addicted to feeling like crap. When I think of what it feels like to be sad and feel lonely, I get this image of a warm, dark, cosy place that to me actually sounds appealing. In fact, it's a place I've been hanging out in most of my life. So this year I am going to pull my single self out of my nice warm cave and be proud of the fact that I have to answer to no one. I can be spontaneous and go anywhere I want to anytime I want to without checking with _________. I will also try not to look at actual couples with contempt or pity according to my mood. This Valentine's Day I will celebrate my single-dom. It doesn't hurt that my cat's birthday is on Feb. 14th so that's what I really plan to celebrate.    

Enough already!

      Once again this morning I woke up in physical pain. As annoying and real as it is, I just have to sort of laugh because it's so ridiculous. This time however there is no mystery to where, how and why...sleeping or waking, that this affliction originates. I have "atomic cramps". That's really all there is to say about it. No amount of ibuprofen will penetrate this wall of misery for at least 2 days. After that the world is once again in focus and out of danger. This event is actually a good practice in acceptance. There is really nothing I can do short of getting a prescription of some equally atomic ibuprofen or worse. Or I could just shut everything down for a couple of days but that seems dangerous in ways both psychological, and emotional. I feel I need to keep moving in these times of not-enough-to-do. I'm not sure if it is evident or not but I'm doing my best not to complain. I"ve found myself complaining alot lately although I'm trying to categorize that in the past tense. This is one of the areas that I'm working on improving about myself. See, I'm self employed and have been struggling financially for several months now. It is only recently that I've decided that the self-pity, the complaining, the worry, the zero self-worth just is not going to help a damn thing. Believe me, I still get stressed out and want to cry alot but I'm determined to try to live my life without shame. I know that we as a society attach alot of who we are to what we do but if I do that now, then I wouldn't add up to a whole lot. I love what I do but I still exist whether or not I continue to perform the task that I get paid for. I get caught up in the thinking that I have nothing to "bring to the table" if I'm not being a productive member of society but who doesn't struggle? I am separate from what I do. I admit, it is difficult to  continue to find "fun, social" things to do with little or (mostly) no money but that is a challenge that I am trying to overcome. That challenge doubles when I get bogged down with feelings of worthlessness and want to hide in my apartment. So this is the cycle I am trying to interrupt. I go to art openings when I can and I'm looking for some volunteer gigs that are of interest to me. I'm also trying to learn Spanish which I know I can't do on my own. I will have to enter a classroom eventually for that but until then Rosetta, you're my profesora. Today, once again I will get up, be who I am, not what I'm licensed to be, and not feel guilty. 

      

Morning Thunder

       I woke up this mornin with a pretty substantial headache already in progress.  I'm always fascinated when this happens. What can possibly be going on during sleep that can bring on a headache? I don't drink so I can rule that out. I remember what I was dreaming and it wasn't a stressful dream or anything.  I just popped my eyes open and the headache was my initial conscious awareness. In these days when I'm trying really hard to wake up thinking positive, constructive, self-lifting thoughts, a morning headache is not a helpful tool.   

       I am having a mammogram this afternoon...only my second one ever. The first one my friends had to talk me into because apparently it was time. This one I scheduled on my own because something in there made me nervous. Well, not nervous nervous, like I'm not all stressed out about it, but enough to actually take an adult action and make an appointment. I have put my body through so much abuse in the past with absolutely no physical consequences that I find it difficult to remain alarmed by this. However, the mind does tend to wander. Sometimes I'll buy a lottery ticket on Friday night and at some point I start the fantasy process. How would it be if I won? Who would I give money to? Where would I travel? What would my life be like then? All that stuff. The same thing happened with this. What if it is cancer? How well or horribly will I deal with it? All that stuff. But deep down I don't feel that concerned. At least not enough to wake up with this throbbing mass sitting on my shoulders. 

      Once again it is snowing in Boston. I think this is the twentieth snowstorm this year but I refuse to complain. It helps nothing and I suppose I don't have to live here. In fact, for the first time, I am actually entertaining the thought of not living here more and more. It's part of my attempt at actually thinking about my own happiness. But that's difficult to keep up right at the moment because I can hardly see the computer screen through my pain. I will get up, go to the shower, and try to ignore this until it goes away. And by "this" I don't know if I mean the headache, the mammogram, or the snow.