Burlap Soul

Bet you thought I was gone, didn't you? Nope. Just shifting some things around in my life and basically suffering from Perpetual Suckiness Syndrome (that's PSS to you fancy doctor types). After much consideration, I turned down the less-than-desireable job offer and decided that as desperate as I am, giving up my weekends to stand on my feet in retail again is just not an option. I didn't suffer through umpteen hundred methods and statistics classes and bust my ass for a bachelor's degree to end up behind yet another retail counter. Yes, we're broke. But no, I'm not settling. My degree should mean something - and it will, dammit, and I will find it. So there. End of story.

In the meantime, don't you love this new design? Mmmmm, Autumn in Kentucky. Curvy back roads are in my blood, baby.

Oh, the thoughts that are swirling, swirling, absolutely freakin' swirling in my head tonight. Focusing enough to write the next sentence is near impossible. No, seriously. It took a good five minutes of staring at my now completely broken-off fingernails, thinking about a hundred and fifty different inane things before I realized I had actually typed Sentence No. 1 and then needed to type Sentence No. 2. Good God, it's like I have absolutely no freaking control over my thoughts anymore. It drives me insane. I just have this image in my head of an Etch-a-Sketch that twenty toddlers have played with all day and there's nothing but a giant jumble of lines that go everywhere but make no cohesive picture and I'm reaching for the sides of it through a giant slow and heavy fog, just trying desperately to be able to pick it up and shake the living shit out of it. Clear it out, have a new slate, start fresh, listen to the clarity of focus... but nothing. My hands seem very far away and the Etch-a-Sketch's jumbled screen is erasing ever so slowly in my hands, so slow in fact that I wonder if I'm even shaking it at all or if this is nothing more than an insanely non-lucid dream and I am drugged in a hospital somewhere having a bad reaction to morphine because I passed out and hit my head on the edge of the tub.

But alas, no such luck. I wake up and realize that all of ten minutes have passed and I have still not resolved a single issue or thought or anxiety in my head. Rather, I have simply lost ten minutes thinking about a giant Alice in Wonderland acid trip involving cartoon hands and an Etch-a-Sketch when I should have been working on that to-do list I was making and am now staring at blankly, but somehow have forgotten everything past "Don't forget job interview tomorrow at 11" and "Take references and spare resume/don't forget directions."

Good God, I think I'm going insane. Does anyone have a clear head I can borrow have?

Breathing, breathing, trying so hard to just breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeathe.

Ha, ha. I just tried to get quiet and breathe and then realized I was holding my breath while waiting for the sound of someone breathing - only to laugh out loud when I realized it was up to me to do the breathing, Dumbass.

Crucial steps, don't forget the crucial steps, Staz.

Aaaaahhhhhh!!! And I'm not even working yet!

Help me.

Thanks to everyone for the happy comments, hugs and general well wishes. Everything really is fine. It's just that when my brain starts running, things get chaotic, crazy and generally unwell. But this morning, I'm quite fine and the interview is over so that's a big stressor out of the way.

As for that, well.. it was sales. Now of all the hats that I can wear, sales is the one that sits askew on my head and makes my ears look funny. It's just generally not me. However, it pays well, has non-insane hours, and is somewhat attainable. And I need a job, therefore making myself seem like a salesperson to these two people listening for nothing but buzzwords and go-getter mojo was a lesson in 1) Irony 2) Humor and 3) Satire. Yes, everything was just like that. You know, open-ended three-point bulletin style, which drives me insane. ("So, Staz, tell me about a time when you used Communication, Negotiation and Presentation in a client-customer infrastructure." Good God.) But hey, it was an interview. I survived it. They said they will probably call me back for a second interview. End of story. Do not dwell. Do not collect $200.

As for the comment problem, I seriously apologize to everyone. I know that my comments have been wonky as of late and I feel like a colossal idiot as I've no idea how to fix that. However, I just saved bunch of money on my car insurance did some googling and then some more tweaking to the blacklist and now I'm hoping/praying/thinking that I might have fixed it. So try to type something that you couldn't type before and let me know what happens. (Be sure to copy and paste the error message when you comment/email so that I can see it, too.)

I'll be biting my lip in anticipation of your feedback implementation. ;-)

The older I get, the more I want to strangle my oldest friends. Please, people. You're almost thirty years old. You don't have to stop having fun, but for the love of pete, grow the fuck up.

In the past 96 hours, I have:

-- toured homes for sale in the ghetto because we are so desperate to own a home that well, we're touring the ghetto
-- hosted my dad and Aunt V. when they stopped in on Sunday
-- had a long two hour dinner with dad, Aunt V., mom, Mike and us at a pizza place
-- spent four hours standing in the driveway of a house that mom and Mike are buying, squeezing an entire weekend of conversation into that four hours spent freezing in the driveway
-- had a job interview that was more or less a study in bullshit
-- cleaned the entire condo from top to bottom in three hours immediately after said job interview
-- hosted my friend Pasty and her boyfriend Andy as they were coming into town for a concert
-- gotten lost in the ghetto while trying to meet them afterward
-- revisited the old metal clubs and hangouts that I frequented ten years ago, only to watch my past repeat itself with the way "boyfriends in rock bands" always seem to act in public
-- watched drunk metalheads do karaoke, which is to say that I watched various people scream into a microphone for hours
-- had to stop at White Castle on the way home as my guests were typically jonesing for typical stoner food
-- spent entirely too much damn time (read: all day) milling around malls and food courts looking for skater-punk clothes and metal magazines, as this was all my guests wanted to do, even though they were finally in a city larger than Podunk and were no longer seventeen
-- written 150 sets of directions to 150 different places, as for some reason, when you come to a larger city you have to act like a child that cannot find his own ass with a flashlight
-- watched my computer get hijacked by a Myspace Addict
-- washed the smell of cigarette smoke out of my office, my clothes and my car a grand total of three times in two days
-- cried endlessly to J. because I can't stand the fact that my friends refuse to grow up, but yet I am expected to cater to their every whim, be their designated driver and wipe their asses for them the rest of their life
-- listened to my supposedly best friend bitch constantly about how everyone is against her and how much she hates being judged by everyone, only to have her freak out in shock and horror when I said that I wasn't sure I wanted to have children
-- then hear her immediately and obliviously tell me to "make sure and wait on her so that we can have kids at the same time and they can grow up together" what. the. fuck. We are not twelve anymore.
-- watch this same friend bitch about how crappy she feels all the time and about how she is doing everything she can to be healthy but nothing is working, all while she smokes a cigarette, eats a pop-tart and downs a mountain dew for breakfast at 1pm
-- rejoice when guests finally leave after two nights of whiny and immature hell
-- only to be seriously annoyed and snap when she calls me and questions my directions - at the end of my driveway
-- received a phone call from my mother about how she was in the emergency room all night with the worst back pain she's ever experienced in her life
-- only to then learn that she was planning on marrying Mike today, so that she could finally have some health insurance (marriage #5, oh yeah)
-- realized that I was actually happy for her though, as Mike is the first man I've ever really approved of and could spend time with
-- gotten lost in the ghetto - again
-- met Mom, Mike, J. and a justice of the peace at a quickie wedding chapel
-- signed a marriage license as a witness, in blue jeans
-- photographed my mother's fifth marriage
-- gone next door to an Irish pub, had a vegetarian Boxty, shared some bangers and mash and shepherd's pie and laughed over how hilarious the entire thing had been
-- realized that I never want to have a justice of the peace wedding
-- seen my mom happier than she's been in years
-- learned that my grandfather now has stitches all over his head from the removal of several skin cancer lesions
-- learned also that in my grandfather's typical obsessed shutterbug fashion, he was standing in the house taking photos of himself from every angle, to share with everyone over thanksgiving dinner I'm sure
-- took comfort in the fact that when everything else is insane, family is still family
-- walked my dog along the river in the most glorious warm, windy weather and wondered if I could ever really leave my precious home state - and was utterly terrified at the fact that I had asked in the first place
-- forced J. to hold his bladder for another ten minutes so that we could make an impromptu run to our favorite church to light a candle for all those around me, and to maybe say a prayer that this marriage will be my mom's last - in a good way
-- happened upon a church choir practice and lit candles while listening to the most beautiful chorus singing the prettiest songs about bethlehem in a 200 year old church with amazing acoustics and forty foot high ceilings
-- took photos of tonight's amazing sky
-- drove home to sit in the stillness and understand the way life moves around me and wonder if I'm moving forward or if my friends are just moving backwards
-- wondered if I'll ever have those mature friends that like to cook dinner and actually listen when you speak, or if the old ones will come around and find balance with me again, or if they will just hate and blame me when I finally get sick of it and they are slowly left behind
-- wondered about how often I wonder about things and then wondered if I am the only one that wonders at all and if that is somehow a defect in the eyes of life and time
-- blogged about it instead, just for clarity
-- still wondering

Is it always wise to delve right into a memory that you know is bad for you? Bust through the layers, conquer the pain, find the cause and fracture it from the inside out?

Or is just better to ignore it? Give it time, push it down, let it breathe and hope that time will heal all wounds?

No, seriously. I wanna know.

I just applied for a job as a veterinary receptionist/assistant where I may have to stand on my plantar-fasciitis'ed feet all day and draw blood with a needle.

Am I insane?

It's payday and I'm light on material, so how about a meme? I knew you'd be excited.

Name four books on your bookshelf:
-- What no one tells the bride... by Marg Stark
-- Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
-- 501 Italian Verbs (because I'm trying desperately not to lose the language)
-- Gorky Park by Martin Cruz Smith (because I'm just pulling random stuff off of our joint bookshelves here in the office and J. loves Martin Cruz Smith)

It's occurred to me that the vast amount of time I spend trying to "find things to do" and "avoiding going home" are merely masks and exhausted means for filling the void I have created by having no friends.

I want a house so bad I can taste it - every minute of every day. I no longer expect it to fill some strange void. I just think it would make me feel a little more at peace, so that maybe I wouldn't be so afraid of just being at home. Plus, it would be nice to have a yard again. And to be able to tell my landlord to suck it.

I don't understand how I can go through so many life phases so much in a single day. How I can be all zen about major disappointments and then go completely rage-ass ballistic over a few traffic lights.

What is it about that feta cheese aftertaste that makes me feel like I've thrown up somewhere earlier in the night?

I interviewed for a very good job today. Chances are that I will get an offer next week, but at the same time, the commute is going to be hell. Ironically, I'm not worried about the drive and the traffic as much as I am worried about the fact that Gypsy will be repeatedly left alone all day for the first time in the 2.5 years that we've had her. I know it will be hard on her, but I think it might actually be harder on me. Her snores and snuggles are my elixir.

I declined doing Art Every Day Month because I really wanted to do something in photography and instead opted to do this run of 26 Things. Now I'm annoyed and regretting that because the Things themselves are so hard and frustrating this time around. I feel I'm just wasting valuable time that I could be using creating different kinds of art instead.

I'm having an ever-increasing feeling that I do not want to have kids. I do not have the baby gene. I do not get gooey when I see babies and sometimes even when kids are just being kids, they will still annoy the hell out of me. It could be my own childhood. It could just be old baggage and fear of being a parent. But the truth is that I get more excited about puppies than I do babies. I find myself trying to convince myself otherwise only because other people want me to have children. That is not the reason I want to bring a child into this world. I know that J. would be such a wonderful father and I feel as though I would be denying him that chance. But I want to travel. I want to run my own business. I want to give my life to the animals. I want to grow up and have the childhood I never had. I feel as though I am designed for doing more or something else and I am afraid of my family's expectations. Already, since we have become officially engaged, nearly five of my family members have said, "Hey, maybe you guys will have kids after all!" as though marriage automatically equals instant kids. I have not even had sex yet and here is my life, already laid out and planned. You see my predicament.

I was fully expecting to go on the birth control patch when we got married. Now I am annoyed by all of this new information that's coming out. I can't swallow pills, much less remember to take them on such a strict schedule. I don't know what exactly we're going to do. Again, that is something that annoys me. We haven't even figured out the logistics of sex yet and already my family is expecting babies. Good God. I love you Appalachia, but you've got some fucked up thinking.

Again with the feta cheese. Blech.

It annoys me how I am sometimes paralyzed by old convictions. I haven't drank ever in my life and now that I am fully old enough to have a drink and be responsible about it, I am too afraid of becoming the addict that my mother was or the drunken assholes that my old friends are. So instead I refrain, just because I always have.

If it were up to me, I would stop by every one of these poor horrible dead animals on the side of the highway and give them a proper burial. Possums and all.

I had such grand plans for this year of my life. I guess I'm just a little surprised to see it going the way it is.

I'm trying hard not to focus on how obsolete our wedding planning is becoming. Money is starting to make our Mackinac Island wedding (or any wedding for that matter) seem like a pipe dream. It hurts too much to think about that possibility. We can't even afford to send out announcements or anything... you know, I just don't think I should go there. I'll just become too upset and depressed over it, which benefits no one and gets nothing accomplished. Maybe it will get better if I get this job. Maybe it won't. Either way, that's not a problem for tonight.

I want a job where I get to wear pretty clothes every day. You have no idea how surprised I am to hear me say that.

I feel that I am going through some amazing changes lately, figuring out who I really am and what I really want for myself. But rather than watching me "emerge into a butterfly" I feel some people only look at me as a lost cocoon. They're afraid that I'll leave the branch and never come home, which is silly because I'm not leaving anyone. I'm just beating my new wings profusely and encouraging them to come with me.

Things that I have this morning:

-- A nasty cramp in my right arm from sleeping funny
-- Wake up time with J., which is something that we've been needing lots lately
-- An insane amount of blockage and drainage coming from behind my nose and going down into my throat, causing me to choke constantly
-- Sudafed
-- A job
-- The gas necessary to get to said job (when it begins on Dec. 12th)
-- The glorious duty of driving nearly an hour today to pee in a cup for said job
-- new iTunes
-- The new possibility of having an actual tree this year (but of course the kitties will eventually determine that one)
-- New ideas
-- Hope

Hey, look! No, not at me. Look outside!

It's snowing!!

Granted, it will melt off in about an hour, but still. It's actually snowing and it's actually pretty! And we're getting ready to drive in it for three hours! Woohoo!

And since it's been a while since I slapped you with the beagle cuteness, this is Gypsy's stupified reaction to looking out the window and seeing snowflakes falling everywhere. She doesn't know what to do with herself.

Ahhhh, Thanksgiving. A long weekend, going home to see my family, basking in the beauty of Eastern Kentucky, and having to tell everyone for the 1,000th time that "No, grandma, vegetarian means that I don't eat turkey either."

Hope yours is just as nice. ;-)