Something short and sweet

There have been a lot of changes in my life, but I am trying to get my life back on track in some form.  It feels worthy of writing it down and being honest with myself about my goals and abilities and desires.

I had started a 30 days of yoga program and was 2 weeks into it and I was really feeling great.  I could feel myself becoming more flexible and internally I felt powerful and in control.  Then I caught a cold that crushed my daily routine and put me out of commission.  But starting this past Sunday I am back!  I have practiced every day so far, and today I practiced twice!  Granted, this is only day 3, but I did it.  I stuck with it, I have soreness in my arms and core and it feels worth it. 

I watched videos tonight of a yogi doing inversions and hand stands and amazing things, and while I'm sure I am light years away from that, it was very inspiring. 

Love.  Gratitude.  Perseverance. 

I can come back.  I won't let grief defeat me.  I won't let my situation define me.  I will work to define my situation.  I will love myself and others.  It will work out the way it is supposed to.

XOXOX

life is shit

every time I look for a job, i cry because I don't want to do that job.  I don't want to do anything.  then i wonder if i would be better off not being better off.

journal prompt 50 things

50 things that make me feel good.

1. cats
2. pizza
3. the smell of soapy soap
4. not wearing underwear
5. watching tv
6. going to the movies
7. buying things
8. receiving mail
9. having penpals
10. baking delicious treats
11. creating cards to mail
12. the smell of books
13. the way chicken tastes
14. finding new ideas on pinterest
15. snuggling with my cats and hearing them purr at bedtime
16. see the sunrise
17. the feeling of clean shaved legs against cold sheets when you first get in
18. getting pictures messages
19. washing my hair after it has been cut short after being long for a long time
20. thrift stores
21. going swimming in your clothes
22. laughing with your friends
23. that feeling of being in the right place at the right time.
24. going to the library
25. grocery shopping at night time when there are no customers in the store
26. shopping when there are no children in the store
27. talking to my brother
28. learning how to cook something and it tastes delicious the first time you make it
29. the smell of sunscreen
30. really smart dogs who know lots of tricks
31. walking dogs
32. the first warm sunny day after lots of cold overcast days and the way the sun feels so good on your skin
33. feeling strong and muscley
34. running to have a clear headed mind
35. when people give me compliments on a job well done unprompted.  especially strangers
36. when a stranger tells you they like your hair
37. going on vacation
38. the feeling of cold waves on your toes when you stand on the beach in the sand
39. getting really big boogers out as one really big booger.  [accomplished]
40. that song pompeii by bastille.  it makes me feel hopeful
41. thai glass noodles with egg and chicken
42. wearing my glasses, especially after having worn my glasses
43. putting worms back in the grass from the asphalt after it rains
44. the first time you kiss someone and that feeling of excitement and lust
45. having someone else brush my hair
46. well groomed beards on fellows
47. eating cookie dough
48. being considered the record keeper of all things of old times
49. the way things looked through a camera lens and how it always felt right to be behind the camera
50. learning new things about dogs that I remember and then being able to talk to people about that, and feeling smart and knowing.
51. not having my period
52. buying stationery that is strange, unexpected and special
53. hosting things for people who will appreciate them
54. staying up late at sleepovers
55. texting
56. flip flops
57. reusable shopping bags
58. the way airmail stationery and things look
59. reading and the moment that you escape into what you are reading, but you don't realize that it has happened.  It just happened.
60. the feeling of relief after you have to pee really badly
61. feeling sore after working out really hard
62. cookies, sweets, chocolate, doughnuts, cake, ice cream, cookie dough
63. roll top desks that are pretty
64. library shelves with rolling ladders
65. card catalogs
66. cheeseburgers with only ketchup and mustard
67. the color pink
68. having clear normal skin
69. not having a fat face/being skinny
70. when Trouvez gets scared and turns all poofy
71. when Eleanor meows and it feels like I'm having a conversation with her.
72. the way black clothes are always in style and always go with everything
73. peas with butter on them
74. stuffed chicken
75. gels pens that write really smoothly and don't smear

Endings and Beginnings

We got into again, and I went batshit crazy and I pushed him.  I mean I physically pushed him.  And then he pushed me back, and I slipped and fell down.  I did hurt my collarbone.  It was sore for a few days, but it passed.  Nothing seriously fortunately.  But he told me to get out, and I'm working on it.  I probably should have left immediately considering the circumstances, but here I still am. 

Whatfuckingever I guess. 

Does this make me a battered woman?  Possibly.

So having a very very short time frame to work with, I'm trying to make the best decision I can.  Also not having or making a lot of money is concerning.  A concern?  Both.  So what does this mean?  It currently means I am looking at trailers.  I would be actual trailer trash.  It's funny and strange that I would label myself that and think that of myself, because the other people that I have known who have lived in trailers, I did not have that opinion of by any means.  I mean, when Gramma lived in Texas, she lived in a trailer, in a park.  However there was one significant difference.  It was a seniors only community, and these people had magnificent homes.  Immaculate lawns/lots.  People who cared about their units and took care of them, and were long term tenants.  Ahhhh....that's it.  That's the difference.  If only I could live in the 55+ community.  Shit can I get an older ID?  Who does that?  Crazy people like me I guess. 

Grrr I'm just feeling so frustrated.  Frustrated in life and .... well that's it really.  I am life frustrated.  I am life disappointed.  I am life sad.  I am life failure.  I am a little leeeetle bit out of it.  Hahahah.  Whatfuckingever. 

I guess I always thought that I would amount to more.  That's what is truly disappointing for me.  I thought there was the potential for more.  I always wanted to avoid the "plan" that so many took.  The "path" that was prescribed by our standings, backgrounds, incomes, families.  I just never thought that if I deviated from the plan, that I wouldn't be able to get back onto it at some point in time.  Shit.  That is like the most genius fucking thought.  That's it.  That is what is the disturbance.  I always thought that I would be able to get back onto the path, and now the path is so different from what I ever expected and from what I ever thought would be possible, that I don't have the slightest idea of how to get back to a place that is moving forward to an end goal that I want.

Ohh!  Brain idea!  What if it doesn't matter what the path is?  What if the end goal is always the same thing?  What if the end goal is just to be happy?  Just to explore life and experience shit and be?  Hahahaha.  Well it can't be that because I don't like just being.  I like having a plan and being able to create a way to move forward.  Why are there no white people?

Stormy Weather

Everything between Mike and myself has been going well lately.  We are getting along as roommates and hanging out some and it's been good.  But not today.  We got into a silly argument over cat hair.  It's such bullshit.  I have been compromising everything to be here, and he seems to think the opposite, and that I give up nothing and still somehow am demanding everything.  I have stopped doing the nice things I had been doing for him, because I feel like he didn't care. 

Yes it's fun to be here, but I'm also getting kind of tired of being here and I miss my stuff.  I told him that yesterday, and as usual, instead of understanding me or attempting to listen to me, he told me, "It's just stuff."  Of course I know it's just stuff, but I'm surrounded by your crap in your tiny apartment that you don't do anything to take care of, and I have a suitcase of belongings, stationery, and the cats.  I miss my stuff and my life and my belongings.  I don't know how to make you understand that.  Is there something about that idea that is difficult or that you seem to misinterpret?  I feel like I am being pretty clear.

Honestly, I don't know why I blog anymore.  It's really stupid.  I would probably get more out of writing in a journal. 

I'm trying to take control and it's time to move along.  And go get some dinner.

Reading/Admissions

Lately, I feel like:

• I can't get enough of realness and literary readings and mail. 
• I'm sending as much mail as possible and trying to write as much mail as possible. 
• I'm spending a lot of time alone.
• I'm thinking about what I need to do keep moving forward.
• I talk to the kitties and have them cuddle with me.
• I could be losing my mind, but if I was, wouldn't I not know it?
• I'm looking for jobs and dealing with unemployment.
• I'm walking dogs almost every day.
• I have puppy fever. 

Some of these things are new, and some of them are old.  Some of them are recurring and ongoing.  But it sort of all feels new nonetheless. 

I read that a good writer should spend time writing every day.  I want to write every day but without any inciting incidents in my life, it is hard to come up with stories.  Stories that aren't about my cats.  The more alone time I spend, the deeper I delve into crazy-cat-lady-ness.  Don't get me wrong, part of me really loves it, but there is a part of me that knows it is a little sad as well. 

In regards to writing every day though, I had this thought, maybe perhaps more accurately described as a dream, about writing movies, which is silly.  I have no stories.  But if I did, the process that it takes to actually be the writer, I think I would be good at that.  I guess now I just need a story.  Thankfully I am not pretentious enough to take my large laptop to coffee shops and sit and work on a word document like I am important.  Thankfully I don't need $5 coffees to inspire my thought process.  Actually a place like that would really annoy me.  Just driving today was annoying.  However, I partially blame that on being hungry at the time. 

Is it more important to remember just the memory or the time of the memory?  Something I've been thinking about.

Is it a worthy venture to record all memories just for the sake of having them as opposed to letting them go?

Story

I have been avoiding writing in my blog because someone said something that I had deemed inappropriate to say about it regarding my own thoughts and ideas.  Regardless of what you think, this is my blog and I  am allowed to write what I want in it.  So I ended up punishing myself and not doing something that I like specifically because of someone else's opinion. 

But I've been thinking a lot about story.  It's inspired by an audio book I have been "reading" by Donald Miller.  I am a terrible character in my own story.  I am the antagonist in my own story.  How awful.  More on story later....  More pressing thoughts are weighing me down right now.


Dear Blank,

I think about you every day.  I even miss you every day.  I wonder what you are doing and how you are doing in a new place that almost doesn't even exist to me because I've never been there or heard of it.  Is that even possible?  It's like the flatness of the land beyond what I can see, so it must just stop existing. 

I haven't seen you in...jeez 2 years next month, which is crazy to think about.  I haven't talked to you in maybe a year and a half, but it feels more like a lifetime.  I had to stop talking to you because I felt so hurt by you, but I still hurt without talking to you.  I don't know what telling you these thoughts would mean.  I don't know what you think about me anymore.  I've heard what you thought about me in the past.  That hurt too.  Of course I'm much too sensitive and much too weird for most people now.  That probably includes you too.

When time passes, we are supposed to heal, but you are like this wound that never heals.  Actually I think I may miss you more now than I did when you left.  But I still felt like you were my friend then.  You miss your distant friends differently than you miss your friends that you have lost.  You have turned into a friend lost.  It does still make me cry.  It does still make me hurt.

All I remember are the good things about you.  That's all we really want to remember about people anyways.  Part of me feels like you are the only good thing that ever happened to me.  Part of me believes that I should be with you because my parents liked you and approved of you, and I don't have my dad here to approve anyone anymore.  So why should I keep looking?  Sometimes I feel as if I am more broken from losing you than I am from losing my dad, and that was very very hard on me.  Right next to impossible to do. 

It is strange that I don't feel like I am getting any better as time goes on.  I've only ever felt like the best version of me when I was with you.  Now I feel lost, and I just keep wandering aimlessly.  It's miserable.  I just want to be near you again. 

I'm so sorry.