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I will be creating a new journal shortly. In the meantime, I'll put Crucial Life Updates on here.
I had to euthanize my cat this morning. She was 11 years old and in bad shape. I petted her and she sighed, and that was it. As tough a decision as it was, I am at peace with it.
The Old Man very thoughtfully dug her a deep hole underneath a birdhouse in my back yard. I think she would appreciate her resting place.
I know a lot of you guys knew her, at least by reputation. She will be missed. Happy Spring.
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Comments: Read 8 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, March 12th, 2009
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I think I want to start using this thing again, but I also kind of think I want to start a new account...
If I make a new LJ, how many of you will move to the new Flist?
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Comments: Read 12 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, January 15th, 2009
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I've been feeling introspective lately. While I posit that I'm not naive, I have certainly spent a life relatively clear of truly traumatic experiences. I wonder if this is due to my willingness to comply (which I somehow doubt) or (more likely) my unwavering desire to Keep It Real.
I've managed to live a life without regrets, and I think this is due in part to not letting myself get forced into situations I don't want to be in. I don't do things to impress people, and I stopped trying to prove myself to anyone but Yours Truly after about 16 years with my father. Granted, there have been times I kept my mouth shut when I could have spoken up or allowed myself to stand by in the face of something I could have protested, but it has never been a matter of great importance or (I'd like to think) I would have stood up. I walk the line between that annoying Type A "born leader" personality and the even more annoying mindless sheep drones. I found the difference between being easygoing and being completely passive to the world around me. In the end, my ability to be content in the midst of people all fighting to get their own way has led to me having more friends (especially opinionated friends) than most people.
I thought I had a competitive desire to be the best at everything, but I realized when I started swimming that that isn't my problem (otherwise I would have been hospitalized for exhaustion by now). My problem is more of wanting to be recognized, so be set apart from others who are like me. That's why I have a problem with categories. I don't want to be a woman, writer, student, fencer, unemployed person, athlete, scholar, swimmer, daughter, lover, sister, cousin, etc. There are plenty of those out there. I think that the need to distinguish myself is one reason why I adopted the Dragonfly persona. There are plenty of dragonflies out there, granted, but they're all small, four-winged, six-legged, and bug-eyed. And I don't have nearly that many hyphenated adjectives in my job description.
When it comes down to it, I've found that I don't need to worry about being just another member of a group. I imagine myself as being relatively easily forgettable. The only superlative I could come up with for myself is Most Average. But I find others would say quite the opposite. I've been the subject of poems, songs, drawings. I've been present at my fair share of interventions (sadly, never the one I really want to see). I receive e-mails, texts, packages from people I haven't seen in months or even years. Obviously I greatly impact the people around me, usually in a positive sense.
All in all, I can look back on my thus far brief life and declare relatively confidently that I've done far more good than bad. And the things I've missed out on aren't that important to me, otherwise I would have worked harder to make a go of it. My brain is working overtime today, but I think the results are good ones (especially now that I've purged all this out).
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, December 30th, 2008
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If you've never seen the shirt I'm referencing in the title, that's a damn shame. Now on to the part about my life, since that's the real reason why you're reading this (I can't imagine what narcissists did before the advent of the internet, but I'm glad that was before my time).
Today I realized just how much I rely on money to validate my life. That upsets me. For the most part, I don't want material things; my Christmas list consisted of things like "big bucket of popcorn" and "one of those PedEgg thingies from the infomercials." I want abstract things such as wisdom and independence, which manifest themselves in the form of tuition payments and a car. While wisdom and independence are, ideally, free, school and wheels are not.
I blame my environment. If I didn't live in a capitalist society this would be a lot easier. People identify themselves based on what they do for a living. Think about it; when you meet someone, what's the first thing you ask them? "What do you do?" And while that question has several interpretations, the person will almost definitely respond with an occupation or an area of study. I've started specifically asking people about their hobbies during the initial meeting; I'd like to start a movement, but that's another blog for another day.
Being poor sucks. I never minded as a kid when school was free and I had no concept of car and house payments, insurance, or debt. Now it's frustrating both because I'm having trouble attaining what I want (I'll be wiping out more than half of my savings to pay for ONE CLASS this term) and because it perpetuates an endless cycle of oppression.
Who says I need a PhD to impart knowledge to other people? The universities which both employ the doctors and philosophy and teach the underlings who will later come crawling back looking for employment. It's just another industry. I don't need to spend vast sums of money to read books, but I do need to spend those dollars to acquire a piece of paper saying that I read them. It's horse shit, but I guess mucking stalls is the only way to stay in a field I love. And when I hear people going on with their bull about the liberal university tainting youthful minds, it takes all the self control I have to throw back the VERY conservative nature of the power dynamics inherent in the class setting.
But enough about that. This isn't my social and political blog. This is the blog that's all about me. Because, truly, my world does revolve around me (and I don't expect anyone else's to, mind you). My issue today is my unemployment and its effect on my self-image.
I never realized before today exactly how much I rely on other people to validate my existence. I've been fighting this for awhile, and I almost don't care when my father tells me I should be doing something useful with my life. And I've gotten to the point where I only get upset with gossip about me when the heinous things people say are untrue. I am not by nature a self-conscious person. But sometimes I doubt my abilities are enough because no one will pay me to do what I do.
This all fell into place when I heard that some of my scarves are selling. That's right; my sole source of income right now is my knitting. Hopefully soon I can also sell some of my hand-woven shawls because more yarn = more dollars. I knit to keep myself from tearing up my hands; it's a compulsive thing I struggle with when my life gets hectic. I perform repetitive actions to avoid thinking upsetting thoughts; it's kind of the opposite of OCD, wherein someone will perform repetitive actions because they are obsessed with upsetting thoughts. So instead of reducing all the problems of the world to an asymmetrical cuticle, I knit. I take something ugly about myself and turn it into something pretty and warm. And someone is willing to pay me for it, at least until the weather warms back up.
Why does this please me so much? Even if I sold every single scarf I've made, it would barely make a dent in my upcoming expenses. Yet somehow it makes me feel better to know that I can put a dollar amount on something I do.
How fucking sick is that?
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, December 24th, 2008
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It's that lovely time of year where we all look back on our lives so far. And while I'm proud of the 30 lbs I lost and the classes I took and papers I wrote and all that jazz, I'm too busy looking at my future (with quite the critical eye) to get too caught up in staring at my past. I don't want to deny it or forget it; the past is a very useful tool. But somehow I need to break free from it, which leaves me in quite the quandary about what exactly I should do about my LJ here. Do I leave it be? Delete everything and start over? What e-memories would I lose? Do I upgrade my account and make everything prior to a certain point private? I'll figure it out eventually, and when I do, I'm sure you'll all know about it.
But the main point of this is simply that again, it's the end of the year, and I find myself trying to figure out just what it is that I want.
I shifted my academic focus away from copy editing; I honestly think I want to be a professor, so there's suddenly no great rush to leave Pensacola. This is something with which I wrestle because going away to school is the best way to move out without burning any bridges. If I'm just going to UWF there's no reason not to live at home. Except that I'm too old for this shit, and my parents are raving lunatics (well, one is, but one is enough, quite frankly). Things aren't too bad with my parent, really, so I'll stick around. I really don't have much choice considering my finances. But if I continue not paying rent, perhaps I'll acquire another of my desires: a car. Unfortunately I can't get financial aid, and my parents can't help me pay for school, so next semester's class (yes, that's singular) will set me back a bit as far as those goals are concerned.
It's frustrating and fruitless to cling to the unattainable, unless you're going to write about it, and somehow I doubt my yearning for a car or dwelling of my own in the midst of my poverty is as poetic as Dante's search through Heaven and Hell to see Beatrice. But I can work on some other-worldly goals.
As difficult as the ones I have in mind may be, they're still the easier route:
I want to own my emotions instead of allowing them to own me. I've taken the first step; I understand that sometimes I am irrational. As long as I am rational enough to recognize when I am being irrational, it's not too late. I need to harness all the love/happiness/rage/sadness inside me and channel it into something, be it music, text, yarn, exercise, or simply (here's a radical idea) confronting the things that make me feel poorly and reveling in the things that make me happy. I'm working on using my words to express myself rationally and eloquently. The aphasia that grips me in times of anxiety makes this problematic, but if it weren't hard to do it wouldn't be much of a goal, now would it?
I also want to overcome my insecurities. I know there are things I do well and things I don't do so well. I understand that I can be proud of the things I do well and work to improve the things I don't. It's those gray areas in between that unnerve me. I really need to explore myself and gain a better grasp of those things to become more secure about my capabilities and boundaries. I don't want to become some pompous jackass, and it's kind of hard to gain confidence in an area without suddenly considering yourself an authority on it. But I'm trying.
To clarify that part about insecurities, I feel I should tell you all that I know I am worthwhile. This isn't about self-esteem or really about ME at all. It's more a matter of taking the criticism and putting it to use and allowing the compliments to reinforce my belief in my new (or seemingly new) abilities. Understanding this fissure between what is me and what it is I do is a big step, I think. I find that a lot of people identify themselves based on occupations, areas of study, hobbies. I fought that tendency by turning into a bug. However, I really do need to walk the walk if I'm going to say that I'd rather identify as an insect than allow myself to be boxed in.
All that aside, I just want to be saner. This past year was crazy, and it was fun, but it was also exhausting. And while I'm trying to bring reason back into my life, I don't want it to rule me. I don't want it to overcome the emotions that make me the person I am, because quite frankly I doubt I'd be much fun if I didn't have these strong emotions. I don't plan to stifle them in any way. I'll still get ferociously angry and fall madly in love and become so euphoric that no one can stand me. But hopefully it'll make more sense both to me and to the people who have to deal with me.
And if all that emotional shit doesn't work, then I want to develop a sense of style. Maybe it'll be easier to get away with being batshit crazy if I look good doing it.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, August 28th, 2008
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It's been a long, long time since I updated this thing. And to be honest, I'm not even going to bother checking to see where I left off. I'm not going to pretend to have been keeping up with my flist. I'm going to keep it real because that's how I roll. But I'm feeling pretty good right now, so it seems like a good time to catch up.
Most of you have seen me (so to speak) since Greece, so I guess I'll start with coming back. I lost almost 10 lbs while I was there, then gained it all back (and then some) when I returned to school. I lived it up during my last semester at the HC. I danced, partied, and jumped out of an airplane. I went to a theme park and spent as much time as possible with my friends. I miss them. Since I left, drama and circumstances have completely and irrevocably split up my circle, and that deeply saddens me.
While we're getting the melancholy stuff out of the way, I lost two acquaintances since the start of this year. This world is a lesser place without them, and I am lesser without the chance to have gotten to know them better. I hope they're partying together in heaven (although they never met on earth).
On a slightly lighter note, Dragon-mom's life-threatening illness cleared up, and she's just fine. She just can't spend much time in the sun these days.
I finished and published my thesis. It was a big deal for me. I was proud enough of it to come back to SoFlo in April to present it (I know, what a burden!). I fenced in the tournament and did even more poorly than I did last year, but it was so much fun I didn't mind.
During my semester and summer off, I went to concerts and caught up with my home friends. I turned a few acquaintances into friends, and I can't imagine my life without them. I made a completely new friend in Milton's Book Lady; it's like looking at myself in 20 years.
You win some, you lose some, and I find myself quite distanced from some people who were once very important to me. I've forgiven most of the people who've wronged me (and oh, have some people wronged me). If you're confused about where you stand there, by all means drop me a line. My aloofness is a consideration for others, not a snobbishness on my part.
I had a cancer scare in late April/ early May. Now I'm short one mole, plus one scar, and my biopsy came back clean. Waiting for the result was the scariest week of my life.
Despite my laziness regarding graduate school applications, I am taking some classes right now. I'm a special student at UWF. I'm in a lit crit class and a Romantics class. I'm loving it, but I know I'll try to transfer to a program that has more emphasis on publishing. I still want to do the copyeditor thing. In the meantime, I'm doing something scholarly, and I'm hoping to go to some conferences this school year/ next calendar year.
So in the meantime I'm living with my parents. I write when I can. I recently took up triloom weaving. I built my loom, and I'm very proud both of it and the shawls I've woven on it. An armadillo lives in the backyard, which pleases me beyond all reason.
I'm on a self-improvement kick (which is fun when your inner desire is apparently total self-destruction). I've lost 17 lbs. I hit a plateau, and we'll see about fixing that sooner rather than later. In the meantime I'll keep walking 2 miles each morning and eating high-protein foods like it's going out of style.
So that's a year in a nutshell. I'm sure I left something out, but that's what the edit function is for.
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Comments: Read 6 or Add Your Own.
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Thursday, March 27th, 2008
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I've been neglecting this thing terribly lately. I don't really know what to do about that since I'm too lazy to actually keep up with it but I can't bear to retire it either. The worst part is not that I don't update but that I don't check my flist anymore. So still no official word on that. I have to keep you guys in suspense, I suppose.
For those of you not on the mailing list (there is none, but that would keep everyone wondering, now wouldn't it?), I've been a very busy dragonfly.
Last week I started helping a lady who owns a bookstore. She ordered a large inventory, then promptly had the rug pulled out from under her when the gallery where she set up shop decided to close. So I've been boxing the old inventory and unboxing the new. She thinks I'm wonderful and enjoys baking, so I feel right at home in her house. Right now she pays me in paperbacks and carbohydrates because she's strapped for cash (partially from the cash influx screeching to a halt with the store closing and partially from buying all the new books), but I think she'll keep me around when she opens the new store.
At least I'm banking on that assumption (it's hard to look too far ahead because there's a ton of work to be done, plus she's suffering from a chronic condition that will eventually take her life, but more on that later). The freelance writing gig is not all I'd hoped for and more, which is a damn shame, but my first paycheck made me 50 bucks richer, and I'm waiting on the second. Unfortunately this week proved fruitless for topics I know anything about, so I'm going to be lacking in the dollar department for awhile (especially since I'm not jumping for new jobs right before leaving town).
So that's what's new on the job front. My personal life has suddenly gotten more interesting as well. Jeremy, the nice young man I met last summer at his "welcome home from Iraq" party returned in February. We had a good time togther, and he went back to Germany. There were some interesting exchanges here, not all of them pleasant, and for several reasons, he decided it would be a good idea to stop partying so damn much. He told me that as soon as he got back to the base in Germany, he'd enter ASAP (that's like military AA). Well, he couldn't get into the program, so he's doing it all on his own. When he had been sober for 30 days, I told him I wanted to be his girlfriend. No ultimatims; he did this on his own. I've been officially committed to this for about a week now, and I'm happy with it. Apparently LDRs are good for me.
In addition to my new friends, an old friend recently surfaced in my life. That was awesome, even though he stumbled back into my life during a very unpleasant ordeal in his life. So I'm glad to be back in touch, and I'm keeping him in my prayers (which get longer and longer now that I'm dating someone who may end up in a warzone). If that's how you roll, keep him (and my soldier, for that matter) in yours too.
My physical health is pretty much the same. I'm trying to get into shape and stay that way, which hopefully isn't as fruitless as it seems. I've been having trouble sleeping, but what else is new? My main concern right now is the incredibly painful acne I've been dealing with as of late. At any given point in time, I usually have at least two abcessed pimples (not the kind that come to a head, but the ones that just lurk under the surface and hurt like hell). Right now I'm debating going off my meds completely and only enduring horribly intense pan for a couple of days instead of dealing with festering boils on my face all the time. Silly me, I'd like to have the best of both worlds, but that won't happen, now will it?
My folks are fine. My pets are fine. My friends are fine. I am fine.
So I just thought I'd check in and let you all know I'm still here. And I'm still awake, but the night is young, and I may yet get some rest.
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Comments: Read 3 or Add Your Own.
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I helped a friend by doing a survey of some psych stuff. This is my personality profile based on questions I answered: - With respect to the trait of Agreeableness, you appear trusting, modest, sympathetic, compassionate, good-natured, and cooperative. You are willing to make sacrifices to preserve interpersonal relationships.
- With respect to Neuroticism, you appear calm, secure, and relaxed under stressful conditions in comparison with others. You are not fearful.
- With respect to Extraversion, you are reflective and socially cautious. You are seen as reserved and serious. You find many social situations as effortful or even stressful, and generally prefer to be alone or with a few close friends.
- With respect to Conscientiousness, you are generally dependable, consistent, and careful. You are neither excessively planful nor obsessed with your work, but you are generally prepared and organized.
- With respect to Openness to Experience, you are open-minded and enjoy new experiences. You are imaginative, have broad interests, and enjoy abstract, philsophical concerns. You are emotionally responsive.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, March 12th, 2008
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I sent in my first project, and apparently it was subpar. Most of it is technical rule stuff that I'll have to get used to. For example, "less than 250 words" really means "one page with one line of text on the next page" (by the way, I HATE leaving one line on the next page and have been known to change margins to make it fit!). Things like that.
I'm cool with getting criticism. That's how I improve and grow as a writer. But it's difficult for me to take that criticism seriously when it's riddled with grammatical errors. This is also a problem I've seen with the assignments when they go out. I've read several that are very broad or completely incoherent, and I have no idea what the hell they want.
The worst one was when she said my paragraph was grounded in suppositions instead of research. I didn't suppose anything. I DID do research on my topic, even though sources aren't needed for the assignment. I have several days to fix it, but it still made me cry to read that. I really tried, and it wasn't good enough, which really makes me question my abilities as a writer. I know this is just one assignment, but I feel like I've made a horrible first impression.
I probably should have picked a better topic instead of the Navy's core values, but I chose that one because it was short and seemed like a good starting point (plus the longer, English-related topics were all already taken). I must have worded myself very poorly, because I'd hate to think they just wanted me to spew patriotic bullshit. I brought up some good points about things that the Navy does to reward its officers (based on articles from their own newsletter), and my boss tells me to cite the Navy's creed. What am I supposed to make of that?
I'm going to re-write the article now. Thanks for listening to me bitch about work.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, February 19th, 2008
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I was just telling Savvy yesterday about a menfolk related situation. It's one in which I really like a guy and know we could be really happy together... for a couple of months. I'm not mentally stable, and he needs to grow up.
Apparently he needs to grow up more than I thought he did. I don't want to go into details (in fact, I've vowed to never talk about it after tonight). All I'll say is that the only shred of decency he has left came from telling me something I really didn't want to hear. Long story short, I let somebody in and got hurt. Bad. Again.
I took it like a lady: gracefully and rationally. Then I sat on the dock with my best friend, crying and chain smoking until I could deal with the world again. I'm feeling much better.
My problem is figuring out how to cope. In the past, I've always used my work ethic and busy lifestyle to compensate for any pain or anger I felt (and I'm dealing with a fair amount of both at the moment). How the hell am I supposed to avoid thinking about it now? I have no job. I have no work. It's just me and a depressed old man in my house. And tensions have been growing there too, of course.
I could turn to drugs and alcohol, but that doesn't solve any problems. As I learned in the past and was kindly reminded tonight, those things only CREATE problems. I could find some sort of work to consume me. My writing (and oh my, this is amazing fodder) could take off now. Or I could work out compulsively like a death row inmate. I could keep on with the knitting (because busy hands stay out of trouble, I find).
One thing that appeals to me even less than substance abuse is my old manner of coping. The thought has not even crossed my mind, except as a point of reference. I could have relapsed last night, but I feel no urge today. Not at all.
I'm pissed. I'm hurt. But I'll keep going. And I probably won't learn from this experience all that much.
But dammit, as he is honest to a fault, I am forgiving. Lord, keep me from being a push over.
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Comments: Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, February 12th, 2008
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I'm talking to Pete again. In a civil, pleasant manner. I'm terrified I'll just hurt him more, but he's old enough to make his own decisions. I'm trusting his judgment. He called two days after I took his scarf apart. He asked if I'd send it back. I told him he could have it after I re-knit it. If I were reading this in a book, I'd be sick of the "rebuilding friendship = remaking scarf" metaphor.
My soldier friend came back from Germany unexpectedly. My best friend and I will probably party with him this weekend. He's a good time.
I saw <i>The Bucket List</i> with an acquaintance from high school. I loved the movie and would reccommend it to others. Afterwards we sat outside a Sonic and talked for two hours. I could have sat out there for two more hours, but my ass got cold, so I went home. He's a nice kid. He's also staying a friend.
I'm enjoying the single life. It gives me more time to devote to firearms and knitting. Right now I'm knitting pink and red scarves for Single Awareness Day (which I will celebrate by having a hot date with my best friend). So Pete's scarf is on hold. He understands.
Right now my body is tired but my mind is racing. I want to drive really fast, but there's not enough gas in the Dragon-mom Mobile for me to steal it in the middle of the night. I knitted for at least five hours (minus a 45 minute break for my walk). I'm wondering if this is my latest compulsion. If so, that's good, because it doedn't leave my hands bleeding from where I've picked away at the cuticles. Unfortunately spring is almost upon us (I know, I said it), so I probably won't be able to sell my scarves now, which is problematic, because I'm in need of dollas. I'll have a shitton before it gets cold, though, which may help my cause.
I'm going to apply for a job working in the federal government. They still haven't answered my questions about how to fill out the paperwork. I'm expecting this to be a long and arduous process. But I may end up in Japan for awhile, so I'm down with waiting. The Old Man is completely fine with me having a job that requires a lot of travel and using my house as a home base. Sign me up.
In the nearer future, I'll be in SoFlo in early April (for the two people on the planet who haven't heard about it yet). Symposium and the fencing tourney are back-to-back. I'm looking forward to practicing for the tournament. I need to stab somebody.
I'm a bug, and right now I just want to keep typing nonsense so you'll keep reading, but I suspect that happened long ago. If you got past the part about menfolk, I commend you. That's always the worst thing to talk about, I think. Menfolk are right up there with politics and religion on the list of topics I avoid because I want to have friends and not be seen as a whiny baby.
I'm still a bug. And I'm still awake. But I'm going to lie down and pretend to be asleep for awhile. Perhaps I'll succumb to the power of suggestion. The brief unconsciousness I enjoyed this afternoon involved twisted dreams about baby badgers loose in my house. I could use some more dreams like that (they were SO SOFT, and I PET THEM). Hopefully if the badgers come back my cat won't attack them (that was unnerving).
Soyeah. In conclusion:
Menfolk. Impatience. The federal government. Airplanes. Swords. Badgers.
THE END!
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Tuesday, February 5th, 2008
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Today I took apart the scarf I made you (you know, the one you so tactfully returned with my things and a blank "wishing you well" card). I didn't do it out of spite, but because I wanted to do it right this time. You always told me I was wonderful and beautiful the way I was. You discouraged improvement. I'm improving the scarf, and I'm improving myself. I'm not perfect, and I never was. Unfortunately you refused to see that I needed to work on my flaws until I started cleaning house. So I started cleaning house by getting rid of you.
I also disposed of boxes of clothes, bags of old toys. There were a lot of unused things in my room. I opened old cards to read them one more time before throwing them out. I looked through photo albums, against my better judgment.
When I tried to replace my life in West Palm with a new one here, it didn't work out like I planned. So you had to go too. I though we would be great friends again. Sadly I was wrong. I know it'll hurt when you read the things I wrote to you. Maybe you'll feel half of the hurt you've caused me over the years.
I can't really rely on anyone, which is good. I criticize people who lean too heavily on others. We all need to be whole people. I have trouble respecting anyone who can't survive alone. I know we all need a support system to a certain extent, but I don't want to be the type of person who perishes when not surrounded by loved ones. I need to make my own decisions and live my own life (which I'm doing a decent job of, under the circumstances).
So maybe it's best that my housecleaning has included the loss of a few friends and lovers. Maybe they just weigh me down and take up space in my emotional closet. Enjoy the memory one more time, then move the fuck on.
Right now I'm going through my most self-destructive self-improvement kick ever. It's just the kind of tortured contradiction I live for.
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Comments: Read 4 or Add Your Own.
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Wednesday, January 16th, 2008
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I want to sleep all the time. Today I didn't want to get out of bed because the sun never bothered to come out. If the sun's not up, why should I be?
I'm making some major progress on my room, and I'm learning about myself in the process. I've found things that I've written. I used to be a very angry person, but I've calmed down into the kind and chill person you see today.
But am I really chill, just because I can control my temper? Honestly, my entire life has been passionate, as I rediscovered while reading unsent letters and bad poetry from the past decade. It may have been intensely difficult to live with those feelings at the time, but I'm glad I went through it.
On the whole, I'm doing quite well. The worst part of all this is the trapped feeling from living in Milton with no funds or transportation. Sure, I get out with my friends every once and awhile, but I can't get out to do the things I really want to do because I don't feel like explaining to my father why I want to spend a couple hours sitting in a book store in Pensacola or driving up and down Highway 90 looking for a job. I'm old enough that I shouldn't have to explain myself, yet I feel like I need to while I live here rent free.
My BA came in the mail the other day. That was exciting. I still can't find my writers' group. Nothing is really new here.
I'm also intensely excited about seeing the Foo Fighters this Sunday. I seriously can't wait. I'm dancing on the inside, honestly. I'm just not particularly animated because of the fatigue and rain.
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Comments: Read 2 or Add Your Own.
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Friday, January 11th, 2008
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Yes, having my bachelor's degree has been great. Yesterday I utilized it by eating cold pizza for breakfast and watching my roommate (meaning the Old Man) play GTA.
I have been productive, though, despite the crime drama going on in my living room. When I'm not watching the Old Man steal police cars and mow down pedestrians, I'm still working on sorting through my posessions. Yesterday was interesting because I went through the Mess O' Barbies in my closet. Apparently Skipper got loaded at Senior Prom, because I found her pink convertible snapped in half. It was wedged underneath the Dream Mobilehome. Bodies were strewn everywhere. At first I was saddened and concerned by the state of the vehicle, but everyone was accounted for and doing well. Perhaps it's for the best. That damn car guzzled gas, and the insurance was out of sight. I got it used, so I'm not out too much cash. Skipper is pissed, though, because now she has to ride everywhere with Barbie and Ken. Barbie is a bitch, and Ken is always leering at Skipper. The drama never ends inside the pink nightmare that is my closet. Luckily I got that taken care of. In addition to sorting the dolls, I also managed to control the clothing situation (my clothes, not theirs). I bought plastic drawers that I can stack in various configurations. I put them on top of the trunk containing all my evening gowns. And if this all bores you, well, you've obviously never seen my closet. This is a major development in my life.
My goal is to fit all my belongings comfortably into one room, and that's looking promising. I just need to stick with it and keep sorting and reminiscing and tossing and bequeathing and arranging.
Yeah, is it obvious I'm avoiding the task at hand? I think I'm going to steal some cars with the Old Man...
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Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
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I need to figure out how to make this journal friends-only. I'm considering applying for a job in the school system, so I'd like to lock this up ahead of time.
I know that I can go through an manually change very entry, but that's a lot of work. I'm sure there's a way to change my privacy settings. Does anyone know how to do this? Please enlighten me.
In other news, I survived Killadelphia. I'm back in the Panhandle. Things are coming along slowly. I'm doing a major room overhaul so I'm not living in a storage closet with a bed in it (which is what my room feels like now). I need to get dollas. I need to get/stay healthy. Those are my three goals for now (well, some of them are kind of a long-term progression of sorts).
I'm looking at grad schools. When I have time, I pull out my grad school guide and open up to the English/Literature section. I've been checking websites for any indication of preparing me for a job in publishing. If i's a precursor to academia or teaching, I mark it off. If it looks like a school that encourages writers and editors, I leave it alone. If it has a publishing and editing program or certificate, it gets a star. I'm narrowing doen my options, but not too much. It's helpful to have limits but still enjoy options.
Right now I'm doing my best at finding stability without losing my ability to be spontaneous. I need to have a routine, but I also need to roll with the punches.
This isn't easy. It's terrifying. I won't lie to you. But I know I can do it. We all know how I approach my fears. I was afraid of heights, so I jumped out of an airplane. I'm wary of small spaces, so I crawled under the eaves at my grandparents' house.
I'm very, very scared of growing up, so I'm lookng for a real job and researching ways to further my education. Things must get easier as I go along*.
*Typos are fun. That first came out as "alone". Freudian much?
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Thursday, December 13th, 2007
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I'm leaving South Florida tomorrow, and I'm not coming back after the break. It's a strange feeling. In some ways, I feel like my friends are all overreacting. I will be coming back to visit; I just won't live here anymore. In another way it's like I'm dying and doing all the crazy stuff with my friends that we swore we'd do years ago.
I've had tons of fun these past few weeks, and I've learned a lot about myself. I've made more crazy plans for the future. I've avoided making plans for the future.
Right now I'm working my last shift ever at the Burrow. I clock out in three and a half hours, and to be honest, I can't wait. It's a good job, but somehow I doubt I'll miss sitting here in front of a computer for hours at a time telling people that this isn't the library or the bookstore. When I clock out Chez-nay and I will shop for party supplies. I'll make sure I have everything packed in a satisfactory manner.
Within a matter of hours I'll hear from my parents. They're probably on the road now. They'll find a place to stay tonight. They'll want to move my things tonight, but they can't have me. Not yet. I'll be hanging around the house for a year and a half (barring my trips, visits, and adventures). They can give me one more night with the people I've come to hold dear.
So in many ways this is a sad, sad occasion. But in other ways it's a time to rejoice. Yes, I'm leaving, but I'm leaving because I just accomplished something monumental. I'm going to live on the other side of the state, but I'll visit frequently. Instead of spending all my time at school or work, I'll be able to relax and spend some time doing things that I want to do. For the first time in years, I'll be able to pick what I want to read.
Don't resent my leaving. Everyone is leaving. I'm just another person amidst the masses, and I'm quite looking forward to my holiday. If you want to resent something, resent my not coming back. Hate it as much as you want, but only until I inevitably come back.
This isn't easy for me. Those of you who come from broken homes and have had to split your lives between two different houses understand. I love Pensacola. I hate South Florida (but I love the people here). I wish there were some way I could take all the people who are near and dear to me and bring them up with me. But they all have their own needs and responsibilities too. So I'll have to be content with phone calls, letters, e-mails, and visits.
It's hard, but necessary. At this point all I can do is make sure I have my shit together, bequeath what needs to be bequeathed, and say my goodbyes. No, not goodbye.
See you later.
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Monday, December 10th, 2007
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Thursday: rock show, drinks with the band after
Friday: karaoke, drinks, the usual
Saturday: Noche, dancing, hanging out at the apartment later
Sunday: Safari. pole dancing, body shots
Today I turned in my final paper for postmodern lit and my creative writing portfolio. Right now I'm trying to get in touch with the man in charge of all things graduation-related (whom I think spends too little time in his office, since I almost never find him there). After I ask him my questions I'll be able to turn in my thesis release form and figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do as far as converting the files into a PDF.
I really hope I can get this straightened out today. I heard through the grapevine that the thesis deadline was today (very nice of the school to advertise it so much), and I'll be damned if I end up taking an I on a complete assignment because of paperwork. I am one signature away from having this finished; I just have a question about formatting, and if my assumptions are correct, I'm at a standstill until I get that last signature.
Soyeah, I'm in pretty good spirits, aside from some anxiety about deadlines.
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Sunday, December 2nd, 2007
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Ten hours is a long time, especially when you need to spend those ten hours in the Burrow on a Sunday. I need the dollas, and it's actually forcing me to work. I've done all my homework for Monday. I caught the end of the Dolphins massacre.
I guess now all that's left is to do sudoku online and dick around on facebook.
Only 5.5 hours to go...
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Friday, November 30th, 2007
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Well, Dr. B says it's over.
I had my thesis meeting today. It turns out Dr. N didn't have too many comments for my thesis, which means I do not need to edit it this week. I have a couple more questions for my advisers, but I'm pretty much ready to publish it now.
I'm looking up guidelines and shopping for acid-free paper, which is very exciting and a little bit scary.
The whole process was a lot easier than I'd anticipated. I was scared of the project, but then I read through the research. And that wasn't too bad. And I was afraid of fucking up the writing, but then I just sat down and did it. And that wasn't too bad either. The next thing I knew, it was all just a bunch of revisions, which isn't hard at all! Now I'm a bit concerned about the formatting and printing and binding and whatnot, but most of that is out of my hands. I did it!
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Wednesday, November 28th, 2007
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Yesterday was interesting, if you couldn't tell by looking at the comments on my earlier entry. My advice to all of you (which I hope you'll pass on): Don't be a fucker. Very simple. Just don't be one.
I'm feeling pretty empowered because I stood up for myself. And I feel very secure in my view of myself as a good person because when he texted me apologizing and claiming drunkeness as an excuse, I gave him the information for AA and told him that if he were truly sorry to find help. I told him that my life has been a shitstorm lately, and I couldn't help him. I felt like every conversation with him was a disaster because I inadvertantly hurt him, and he hurt me on purpose in return. That's not how I roll.
In essence (but nicely), I told him to get his act together. Call me when he's sober, as Amy Lee put it. Do the right thing. Otherwise the apologies are meaningless.
If you know me, and most of you do, I don't put much stock in apologies. I got that from my father. I'd apologize because I felt bad about something I'd done, and essentially he'd tell me, in his way, that it didn't mean anything. And usually it didn't. I wanted to not be in trouble anymore. I was sorry that he was angry at me, that I'd made him angry, but not about what I'd done. That's the case far too frequently. If you're sorry, fine. Prove it. People tell me that's really mean and harsh. I don't find it unreasonable. I'm sorry for being a douchebag. Then quit being a douchebag.
You're sorry for saying mean things to me because you're drunk? Sober up. Stop saying mean things to me. Hell, stop saying things to me, period, if that's what it takes.
Alcoholism is a legitimate disease. People grapple with it every day. I completely agree that he has an unhealthy relationship with alcohol (which is one reason why I was uncomfortable with him drinking at all when we were together). It isn't an excuse. For example. if you find yourself doing and saying "stupid stuff" when you're drunk, then stay away from the sauce.
Bi-polar disorder is also a legitimate disease, and I believe it's one that he doesn't have. His problems always have some external source. She hurt me. I'm not taking my meds. I've been drinking. He is a grown man. It's sad that he needs bogus diagnoses to function. It's not just something to bail you out when you're tired of school or afraid of being drafted. It's a legitimate problem, and when people abuse it, that cheapens other people's actual problems.
So that's the latest with me. I feel really good about what I've done and said. I'm empowered by taking false power away from someon who hurt me. And I don't hate him. We had 2 wonderful years together. I'm not going to let this fiasco taint my good memories. Those are mine, and he cannot throw them away like he does my stuffed animals.
A friend of mine asked me if ducks would help, or if it would be like prematurely buying a kitten for someone whose cat just passed away. If you really want to take it upon yourself, I'd prefer owls. It's time to build new memories of other people.
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thadragonfly's journal
numb.
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groggy.
silly.
busy.