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Thousands of moments

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(no subject) [Mar. 8th, 2007|11:36 pm]
Thousands of moments

Days like today make it impossible to wear make-up and white tee shirts.



I train-wrecked at school.

2nd floor bathroom.
Between classes.





Whether or not this has anything to do with that situation isn't the point.  No one will ever know my thoughts about that.  My feelings are irrelevant.  I am honest when I say that I'm happy for them-- they truly deserve it.  Coming from so much in the past to now makes all the pain worth it.


The reality of the issue

I'm just in this awkward place in life.  I'm in a situation that only I can completely blame myself for.  I've had all the opportunities in the world to leave.  To escape.  And I never did.  I only have myself to blame.  
Colorado 
Utah
 They look so good right now.  California will always be my second home, but where I'm at now-- feels nothing like home.

I just don't have time to apartment hunt
I can't ask anyone to help me look.
It's my responsibility.

The credits I'm accruing at school will transfer absolutely nowhere.

At least I know what a panic attack is like.  
I was driving at the time.

Lily reminded me just how awful the last relationship I was in really was.


I realized that I entirely put too much hope
too much emphasis
on the super hero complex.
As if I need to be saved from something
by someone else.


The hoodie came in handy.


People are starting to realize that I'm tired too much.
I hardly ever sleep.
They're starting to notice that I'm sick again.
I don't like food.






This too shall pass.


Hope is the only thing I have.

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(no subject) [Mar. 4th, 2007|01:45 am]
Thousands of moments

Maybe I'm making this too easy.

I mean, half the fun is in getting the girl.


How much less fun does it become when the girl all but says,
"Here I am.  Romance away."


It's too easy to sweep someone off their feet when they bend at the knees.





It's rather coincidental that I decide to change certain aspects of myself.
major aspects
when someone walks by, stops and throws around the word "interest"

Maybe I just didn't get some of the hints he made.
We know this is a problem I have
I'm just not too sure he knows...


I just wish I knew.






I just don't want to be like every other girl.


But maybe
 that's exactly what 
I am.

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(no subject) [Feb. 16th, 2007|09:48 pm]
Thousands of moments

I worry too much.






I worry about school and grades.  I have a 3.8 but I feel I should be doing worse.
I worry about the family situation.  I was supposed to be the one to move out.  Mother is leaving now.  I'm being left in control of the house, the finances, my grandmother and my brother.
I worry about work and making enough money to pay my bills.
I worry about the situation with him.  I hate putting aside my feelings but I know I need to.  If someone doesn't like you the same way or as much as you like them, your feelings become irrelevant.  I hate not knowing above all else.
I worry about the pressure that I'm putting too much pressure on myself.
I worry about school putting too much pressure on me.  I'm the next PTK kid.  I can't take that right now.
I worry about developing the same problems that mentally plague my family.  If that's the case, I'd rather be alone.  No one should ever have to dlea with that.
I worry about the rest of college, and career.  Supporting myself.
I worry about being good enough.
I worry about finding love.
I worry about if I'll ever let myself be in love.
I worry about being a good wife.
I worry about being a good mom.
I worry about leaving my kids at the super market and at the mall.
I worry about losing grip.  Losing the person that I am, the only person I've known.  The person that everyone thinks I am.
I worry about being a good friend.  In all situations.  
I worry about why my body still doesn't like food.
I worry that my clothes are getting big again.
I worry that my Grandmother will die alone.  I worry that I will die alone someday.

I despise the way I feel.  I hope that no one ever feels this way.  In a world of darkness and confusion, I seek clarity and something concrete.  I want to feel real.  Feel that I matter.  I don't need to be someone's girl friend, or best friend, or niece, or whatever to know that I matter.

I have Christ.
I know that I do.
It's one of the only things that is giving me peace in this moment of chaos.  A shread of hope, strength.
There's this invarible spot in my life that looks like a gaping hole.
And it scares me I don't know why.

I would never ask anyone to fill it.  It's too much responsibility and risk.  Too much at stake to know if the end will be worth it.
I wouldn't mind it, but again, I will never ask or hope that someone takes it.
I think I'd end up too needy and clingy.  It's nights like this I'd never leave their side.




The past fifteen months haven't offered much relief and I look to the best moments and memories to give me a ray of light.  
In the moments I should have taken pictures to help remind me, I never did.  I regret this.  Highly.


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(no subject) [Jan. 31st, 2007|11:21 pm]
Thousands of moments

Eventually, I will be good enough.







I just have to be.


Right?

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In all honesty... [Jan. 29th, 2007|02:43 am]
Thousands of moments

So I'm overthinking again.. and this is the third time I've typed this, but I need to be honest with myself.

 

Do I get my own place, shack up with Kat's boss Jason (which is a situation in and of itself, and I will probably lose someone close because of the situation) and leave my mother homeless.  It's moral, ethical if anything.  She says she "can't afford to pay her own rent or bills by herself", but it's not like she can even adequately provide any support to anyone that she's staying with.  Or so she says.

Which, the dire situation of her finances is funny.  She claims she has next to nothing, but she still has over $1,500 of my own cash.  Which she denies taking, and would defend with, "It's owed to me."  The whole situation is naseuating to me, every time I think about it.  She's leaving me with over $700 in bills, rent, car insurance, gym fees (work out room at school made me cry), food, gas, and child support to Thailand children.  Her addition-- $100.  And she wants to sell her car, and use mine.  Then she makes jokes when I tell her she's not living me, about living in the shelter downtown.  I'm not crying, nor will I ever cry.  I have no respect for her left, and yet I find myself hugging her. 


Does feeling this way make me a bad person?


She demanded to be in charge of Gramma's estate which she technically can't be, because of her past with various agencies (which she blames me for this...).  She's willing to sign checks for my brother's hair transplant, but balks at Gramma for taking money out for college for me.  This was promised to me while I was still in high school, and apparently the beloved uncle who loved to tease me to death, wanted me to go to college more than anything.  Someone thought so highly of me, while a few people think relatively low.  All they've wanted was for me to be the "fuck up" who stayed home and took care of them.  We know what happened when someone thought I was going to give up my dreams, my life.

Then again, Matthew  and John tells us, "Greater is he who lays his life down for a friend.".  It's not just a physical death, but emotional.  Financial.  Dreams, hopes-- they're a part of this.  Am I just being tested?  Do I really have to give up what I feel so natural and right just for them?  Is that what God is asking me to do?  

I have my own life.  Although I've never felt like I fit in, or belonged anywhere, I'm still alive.  Buffalo isn't my home, and it never has felt like home.  Other than friends and ministry ties, nothing is holding me here.  My heart belongs somewhere else, because of Some One Else.  I never thought of myself to stay in the area much long after Gramma passed away.  I would stay until my Associates comes, but then I'd book somewhere else.  Augustana speaks of "Boston" while I dream of North Eastern University.  My heart has always longed for California.  Utah, even.  

How can your heart belong to a place you've never even been?

My knees hit the proverbial floor, and I ask for a sign to show me where I'm going is right.  I want some proof that where I'm walking, and where I am with Christ is where I need to be.  Any other existence means nothing to me-- my identity is found in Him.  I read Scripture, although my memory isn't what it used to be, and God still speaks to me.  It's His Living Word.  "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever."  This is not the race I'm leaving.  My pursuit is still after God, even through the inclimate season.  There is reason and purpose behind everything, and inspite of that, I will never really know what it all means.  I see things for what they are-- just once I want to see things for what they will become.  I want to see who, and what I become.  It gives me peace, knowing that what I'm doing is exactly what I should.  

It feels so liberating to cement everything down, even those thoughts I've spent months trying to ignore. 

For the next two years, I owe my school just over $300.  Which is cake compared to say, UB or Northern Michigan University.  Later this week, I'm pulling a third loan for this amount.  I hate debt.  I'm pissed that my credit card got as high as it did.  "Everyone deserves a nice Christmas", spoken in the truest form of Holiday Spirit.  Mostly, it was all for nothing.  It meant little, nothing even.  My lap top, even though it's not that old, has a knack for picking up online diseases.  The last thing I need is for my computer to be hacked while in the middle of a semester.  My printer is already broken.  Best Buy has a great deal though-- 6 months no interest.  10% off Computers.  I can only hope to pull a 3.8 to ride into UB, or SCAD.  Phi Theta Kappa... honor societies...

I've never had an issue with finding full time work.  I've always been offered jobs while I was still on the clock for one I already had.  Making people happy is what I do best.  And that's made some pretty satisified customers.  It just haunts me to think of what Jay/Sam, Brian, Shannon/Sarah, Michele are saying to these employers about me.  They treat me like a stranger, a five uear old.  I bent over backwards for every single of them-- and forgot about stuff I had to do to help them out.  It means nothing in retail, because everyone is just trying to promote themselves and get ahead.  So many of my classmates have this schedule-- I can do it.  I just need the chance to prove I'm worth it.  It was never about the money.  Never has been.  I'd much rather spend my time at HfH, Compeer.  With my signficant other-- rather than spending time anywhere's else.

I'm trying so hard not to become what I've spent  my whole life hating.  That counts for something, right?

The people I want more than anything to read this probably never will.  If they do, I risk the chance of losing them.  Par of me wants them to know what's going on, and I'm extending the invitation for them.  They want to know, so here it is.  It seems harsh, but those who know me best know the situation on the homefront hasn't always been the easiest.  I found myself saying this to someone earlier, and I guess it's true for me even though I never wanted to admit to it.  "There's nothing wrong making people realize that what they've done to you is inexcusable.  There's nothing wrong, really, for seeking justice in that sense."  God has final say in Justice-- His role as Judge is greater than ours as Prosecutor. 

What they did to me-- was inexcusable.  I really thought I was over it, but I guess I'll never be over it.  I'm sorry, but how can you lie to a human being about something for 20 years and blame them for it?  How does that work?  I've spent the better part of this year and a half trying to wrap my brain around this and I can't figure it out for the life of me.  Why did she ever think it was OK to lie to me about my father?  Why did my whole family lie to me-- they told me that I was a product of rape.  That I meant nothing to him, in essence.  And yet the man had the only picture of me in his dresser and looked at it every morning.  If they didn't want me, they should have had an adoption.  Abortion.  Back alley with a coat hanger, whatever.  Don't make my life miserable because of something that happened between you 21 years ago.  Her issue died in October, 2005.  Stop making me feel this way.

If the suspicsions were right about my father's family-- the number of people I can trust just dropped dramatically.  I can't quite understand what would happen to me in this moment, but I can assure you, it won't be pretty.  It wasn't the first time.

And if he is still interested after he find this out, I might as well have to marry the kid...

And yes, that means there's someone new of interest.  "There's always someone of new interest", and there are protestors still advising that I'm in love with Dan.  It's different this time.  Really.  He was in love with the idea of who he wanted me to be, who he thought I was.  He never actually loved me, or showed any interest in the fact he had feelings.  I was a secret, really.  A dirty, little secret.  I can't love someone who never thought highly of me.  Idle words mean nothing.  You can say something, and not mean a  word you speak.  It tears me apart to know that someone else I cared about never really had intention of a future.  I can't recall how many times marriage came up, but how many more times sex came up.  I can't remember how many times he talked about it, and how many times I said it was making me uncomfortable.  Why the hell didn't he listen?  He supposedly cared, why didn't he listen?  It makes me feel like all he wanted was a, pardon the term, fuck buddy.  He knew my past and what happened when I was a kid-- nothing mattered to him but his own feelings.  So many guys have thought the same thing about me-- sorry for finally being excited to meet someone who doesn't see that when they look at me. 

He's going to kill me for this, I know it.  You said you wanted to know what was going on inside of my head...

Having someone look at you with interest, not based on appearances or "this is what she can do for me" has got to be one of the best feelings in the world.  I can't describe it.  For someone to genuinely care, it leaves me speechless.  It's not that I'm placing him on a pedestal, but I have so much respect for this kid, it's crazy.  He's had a pretty rough patch in life, I'm sure and it's sad to admit to how much we really relate to each other.  It's nice not feeling like you're alone anymore.  Call me crazy.  I'm scared to admit to myself how much I like this kid because neither of us can rush into anything.  We've got some interesting pasts and taking time, slowly approaching things--safer.  You know me, I care about anyone that crosses my path.  I'm not a bad person, and I've never been the type to say, "Well I could totally see myself dating him."  Never even wanted that.

Why is falling love with, especially with me, so difficult?

Am I really that messed up, or is something else the cause of all of this?










In my hands earlier, was the 2006 Edition of Writing Agents.  Had it not been $30, and had it not been looking for the perfect birthday gift for someone-- I would have bought it.

And in a couple weeks time, an agent would have been holding a few chapters.  I would see ultimately if I were a writer.

And in a couple weeks time, an agent would have been holding a few chapters.  I would see ultimately if I were publishing material.  I'm already a writer.









(don't poke fun at me, So I end my sentences with propositional phrases and such.  Run-on fragments and grammar accidents all over...)




The Truth.

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(no subject) [Jan. 21st, 2007|01:19 am]
Thousands of moments
Gramma has cancer.


Lung cancer.












And we wonder why I'm straight-edge.. although I'll admit, I'd probably take a drink if I weren't  chicken.
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Presents don't come just at Christmas and Birthdays [Jan. 14th, 2007|02:01 am]
Thousands of moments

So that really large tuition bill, of over three grand ($3,000), that has to be paid by Monday January 22nd is currently still unpaid.  And I really can't see myself running into further debt or struggle by taking out that large of a loan.  Four times, by the time I'm done.









So does taking the money that's being offered to me by my Grandmother make me a bad person?  

She's my grandmother, not a piggy bank.  



It's getting harder and harder to be self-sufficient.  God's been teaching me about being a dependent.  Relying on people, especially when I find it most difficult to do so.  I'm being prepared for something greater than school, but at what cost does this all come?  I should be accepting of whatever God gives me, blessing or strife, and be glad whatever state that I'm in.  It's hard to be thankful regardless of what's going on around you.  I'm sure you're all aware He's readying me for not just a relationship with the man that I marry (how can you marry someone and not depend on them?), but future relationships of any context (friends, family, etc.)  as well as my future career and goals.  


So.. Let's be happy.  I've got someone who is willing to give me money for school.  If I take care of undergrad this way, or at least the two years at Villa, I'll be better ahead for the remainder of my education , and in not so much debt.  




Right?












... Then why am I having so much trouble accepting this rather large, rather undeserved gift?

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(no subject) [Jan. 6th, 2007|11:52 pm]
Thousands of moments

So it was really hard to look at my aunt the other day, while telling her I wasn't sure why people like her got cancer.  My eyes hit the page, of a booklet that was handed out from the STD DIS Baseball Hall of Fame.  She was inducted as a short stop, with a mile long biography and quotes about her spirit, individuality and compassion.  Through her tears, she wanted to know why her-- but has hope that God ultimately knows what's going on.  That there's a purpose behind everything.  

The rain falls on the just and the unjust.  God only knows why good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people.  It's unfair, but who are we to complain?  God's grace is more than enough...

And it was more difficult to look at my Grandmother who doesn't want to seem like a charity case when everyone is waiting on her hand and foot, while she's barely able to stay awake throughout the day.  She doesn't want to be treated like a five year old-- but I completely understand the feelings that she has when she's alone.  No one wants to die alone.



And this whole time, I've been worried about work and college.  Silly, how someone can get so wrapped up in themselves and forget about the people in their personal life, who are in for the fight of theirs...

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(no subject) [Dec. 6th, 2006|07:37 am]
Thousands of moments

After much deliberation and thought, what I'm about to post is merely just that. Something I want people to hold me accountable to, and responsible for. The things I want in life, for myself currently and in the future, are things I need to do for myself. Several friends (Ryan & Jacquie, mainly) have encouraged me especially as of late, to think of what I want and need for myself. I've catered to the needs of others, but sometimes you need to take care of yourself. Not very used to doing that, so if there's something out there willing to help, please inquire. The position is definitely open.

::Six Months:: 

- Move out. (this is something more like, in less than two months).
- First semester finished.
- Place myself on the Dean’s List.
- Earn my scholarships, get my loans.
- Chevy Cobalt or Mazda 3 (or 6 is good too).
- Actually have a real couch in my apartment. Futons don’t count.
- Have more good friends in my life. My friends currently are spectacular. I just wish I could duplicate them in test tubes...
- Be able to put up and decorate my own Christmas tree. In July.
- Have slumber parties, girl’s nights and hockey-fest’s on a regular basis



::Up to and Including Six Year Goals::


- Obtain Associates, move on to Bachelor’s of Journalism and English at good ol’ UB.
- On my way finishing up Master’s in Teaching.
- Student Teach at High School level.
- Offer Creative Writing, Poetry, Literature for the Grotesque & Literature for the Romantic as classes. I will write my own curriculum.
- Have a steady, healthy, normal relationship with a man. On our way to spending the rest of our lives together in martial bliss.
- Kids? Adoption Application process started. I should probably start that now, actually... ten years.... ?
- If the above is not in my plans, have an apartment flat in NYC and write for a major magazine a la Sex and the City.
- Realize that I have made a difference in at least one person’s life.
- Become a regular volunteer at the SPCA and Compeer/ Big Brothers, Big Sisters
- Write at least one major publication, playwright, script and article. Be published once, and send the newspaper clipping, torn article or playbill to my old teacher, Maxick from high school.


::Expanding the Bolded::
Qualities and features preferred in a help mate. Soul Mate. Hopeless Romantic partner. Huband/ Old Man. Insert cute phrase... [here].


- Christian. Strong sense of His Kingship.
- Be able to throw me around and put me in place, when it’s called for.
- Be more stubborn than me, but melt like jello when I do something for him.
- Offer to pump my gas, and brush the snow off my car.
- Doesn’t feel that he has to be the man all the time. Gives up control. Allows me to be a part of the decisions.
- Doesn’t get mad when we’re not married and I make decisions for me.
- Doesn’t mind the fact I will watch the game with him.
- Promises not to visit the “Canadian Ballet”. And keeps his promise.
- Teach me all the things I’ve always wanted to learn, or learn them with me: Ice Skating, Surfing, Base Jumping, Cliff Jumping, Sky Diving, Bunjee Jumping, Hang Gliding
- Loves to travel. Everywhere. And takes pictures of everything. Including bad tourist pictures. Knows to bribe with Euros and talk his way out of tickets and bribes in foreign countries.
- Doesn’t care that I wear jeans and tee-shirts everyday. Knows I will wear his hoodies and probably steal at least a pair of his pants.
- Moonlit Parking Lot Waltz’s and Lamp Post Dancing.
- Is a romancer, even though I’ve never really been romanced.
- Feels comfortable not having to buy me jewelry, candy and flowers. Knows that flip flops, baseball hats and tickets to the local sports game are so much better.
- Knows better than to buy me anything gold and diamonds if he does buy jewelry.
- Will dress up “once in a great while” and have a night on the town.
- Camp outdoors for an entire weekend. Hike everywhere & pee in the woods kind of camping. After long hot showers, curl up on the couch and watch a movie.
- Won’t flip out if we fall asleep on the same geometric plane as one another. Even if we aren’t married.
- Doesn’t drink or smoke. Only drug of choice is Caffeine. Prefers natural high.
- Realize that at some point in time I’m going to paint his toe nails purple. To match mine.
- Know that I will need “Girl’s Night” occasionally and he can have time in “Man Land” whenever he wants– we will never be attached at the hip, even after marriage.
- Knows that I feel prettier when I have make-up on and doesn’t try making me feel different. We’re all unique. And I’m sure looks great without it, but I may not feel the same about myself.
- Has an athletic body and pushes me to be healthier. Someone who can keep up with me.
- Let’s me make a model out of him.  And routinely let's me style his hair.  I'm strange like that.
- Enjoys the beach, especially before the sunrise and after the sunset. 
- Knows how to shred (snowboard) and skate (boarding) and doesn't say, "You're going to kill yourself" when I make my attempts.
- Mini Golf & Chuck E. Cheese's.  And, Lasertron.





Perfection would be this.  I'd love to ask for somewho is trustworthy, honest, compassionate, etc. but we all have our moments that deem us less than desirable.  Myself included.  Apparently if you piss me off, I have a strangely placed Southern Accent and get overly aggressive, swearing to beat something up.  Weird.  

God knows what I want, and what my heart desires.  He also knows His plans for me.  I don't.  Ultimately, at the end of each day when we say, "Your will be done.", we're giving Him the permission to do what He knows best.  We're passing on the leadership role of our lives and telling Him that He's got the driver's wheel.  We're best off not asking for it back.  Besides, who honestly likes driving when they don't know where they're going?









Currently not taking applications, but if you or someone you know is interested, please inquire within.

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(no subject) [Nov. 17th, 2006|05:49 am]
Thousands of moments

So I'm only pretty when I'm skinny & I wear make-up.

And I prove to not be worth it again.












This is seriously doing wonders on my self-confidence.

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