The New Year (for a video)

This shall be a youtube video. I do declare.

Things I like about myself vs. Things I dislike about myself. In honor of the new year coming up, I wanted to make a comparison chart for myself so that I can figure out what I'm proud of and what things I should try to improve on for the new year.

Things I like about myself:
My hair
my determination
I'm pretty patient, I think
my style (even though it's constantly evolving)
my ability to see both sides of an argument



Things I dislike about myself:
My hair
I get easily distracted
I procrastinate a lot
my tendency to second guess myself
I don't speak up for myself enough

Christmas Day

Hey there. It's Christmas.

It's my parents' 27th wedding anniversary, too.

The day didn't go quite as planned. It was tough. Really tough. For everyone. I spent some of it crying, and got a really bad migraine. (I think that's what they are. Because they happen so often now, that I'm realizing it's not just a random thing. And they pretty much incapacitate me. I have to get that checked out.)

But nevertheless, it's Christmas (even though it's nearly 70 degrees out, and it's New York, so really, it should be 50 or below at this time of year) and I have this thing I like to do at the end of each year.

I like to write down what makes me, me. Different things that I like at this age, and what I've accomplished. Then I come across them years later and go, "wow, I liked that?"

It's a neat thing.

So here we go:
(in no particular order)

I'm obsessed with Pentatonix
I've seen them live in concert (in July)
I still like silver jewelry
I like dark colored nail polishes
My style is changing to become more minimalist
I got a logo completed for my youtube channel
I've also set a launch date and a timeline for the release
I still like vintage things, but more for decoration in a sort of bohemian style
I have two cats, two turtles, and three goldfish
I had a betta fish but my cat killed it
I finally got a Barnes and Noble gift card as a present!!!!
Kirstin Maldonado of Pentatonix replied to my comment on her blog
I like earthy smells
My ears are stretched to a 00g (10mm)
I have my navel, tongue frenulum, nostril and septum pierced, as well as second holes in my ears
three tats
I like electronic and indie music best
I've gotten pretty good at playing the drums
I started piano lessons this summer (had to stop, but I'm going to start again soon)
weird, but I'm finally a full b cup in bra size, lol
my favorite colors are mint green and burgundy
My favorite books are: City of Ashes by Cassandra Clare, The Host by Stephenie Meyer, and the Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins
my favorite authors are Cassie Clare, Oscar Wilde, and Suzanne Collins
I work as an admin assistant
I still love foxes
I don't feel like getting any more piercings...my face looks full to me, lol
my favorite dish is spaghetti and meatballs
i love soy milk
I'm a coffee addict
Jesus is getting closer to being my best friend (I hope)
my parents didn't freak when I got my nose pierced
I dressed up as a female version of Captain Jack Sparrow for career day at my job and told all the little kids I wanted to be a pirate when I grow up
oh, I have an iphone. Never thought I'd get one...
I still sleep with stuffed animals in my bed and occasionally hold them
my fave youtubers are: zoella, thatcherjoe, superfruit, superwoman, and ptxofficial
I'm currently reading two books: the 5th wave, and California.
Oh, on that note, I like dystopian fiction a lot
My favorite movies are: pirates of the caribbean, a christmas kiss, & silver linings playbook
my favorite tv shows are: Being Human, Scrubs, Jane the Virgin, and Doctor Who
I hardly wear hoodies anymore
my hair had reached my tailbone in october, but then I cut it, so it's back to mid back length now
it's still natural
I heart tea
I still love floral print
I'm about halfway through chapter 15 in my novel (or is it chapter 16?)
I really like dreamcatchers
I've found a church that I love
I tutor (I have two students, a boy and a girl, both in middle school)
I don't have a boyfriend
Some times i want one
most times I don't
I also want kids pretty often
but that could be because I'm around them for nine hours a day
I'm going to better my life
i have a bachelor's degree
I think my favorite flowers are still daisies
I'm not obsessed with stars anymore
I've been to a bonfire upstate with my friend
I helped cut down an tree and chop firewood (hard work!)
I teach sunday school every other week at my church
I feel better now.

Bye! Off to watch Pirates of the Caribbean...it's on Netflix now!!!!! FINALLY!

Merry Christmas!

thinking

You know, I've been thinking. For the past few minutes, really, but it's been culminating into this one big thought.

Okay not really. But with everything that's been going on, and what we've had to deal with a couple of years ago with my mom's diagnosis, and now all of this that's going on, I think it's pushed me to a breaking point. But not the bad kind, not the fall down and cry in a corner kind.

No.

It's forced me to grow up. I used to ask what the point was, what's the point of making me go through difficult things if I'm just going to be a horrible person as a result. Why bother?

But I think it was a sort of training. I swore I'd be stronger this time around. I wasn't blindsided. I saw it coming. I had an inkling of how it could be...how difficult. And yes, it is a LOT. A crap ton. (look it up, it's a real unit of measurement. It measures how crappy situations can be.) But I've been handling things surprisingly well these past few days. Like, with a smile on my face. And I'm learning to put first things first, and to do things that are necessary, like, waking up at 7am and taking care of the animals and heating up water for my mom, and being ready to answer the door at 8am for the wonderful lady who makes food for my mom and brings it in the mornings. And then get ready for work, and not get too overwhelmed at my job...even in stressful situations. And get a phone call that with my mom crying on the other end...and not break down. Not freak out. Go, help her, come back, and still have a smile on my face. I never would have thought I'd be able to manage that.

And she needs me a lot. So I'm not going anywhere just yet. I'm sticking around till she gets better, of course.

And it's come to a point where I want to achieve my goals so badly that I'm willing to budget my time and MAKE time to do the things I want. It's a lot, but like, I have to jump. If I don't, I'll never know.

So...I'll be the one to cut myself from the line...and shatter the glass globe that I've been living in, thinking that everything SHOULD be peachy keen and SHOULD be easy, and that difficulties are hiccups and made to make me unhappy and I should hide in a corner until they're gone.

No. That's not going to work. I have to work to get through them, or else...well, or else.

I expect to make progress.

more necessary stuff

I'm going to make a list of things that we need for the new apartment. (Not that we have one yet, but still. We need to get rid of all the junk we do have and only keep what we really need.)

Kitchen:
four plates (the plastic kind that look like porcelain)
four glasses
mugs galore (because there needs to be a mug for every possible beverage. I'm not compromising on that.)
utensils
glassware storage containers (get rid of all the plastic ones cause they've got bad stuff like BPA)
pots and pans (need some enamel kinds)
kettle
spice rack
dish rack

Bathrooms:
mason jars to hold cotton, q-tips and hairpins, etc.
no more soap dish - too messy. Just dispensers.
shelves over toilet to hold mason jars

Living room:
sofa
center table
piano
fish tank
turtle tank (gosh, we have a lot of pets) :-)
bookshelf (tall, sturdy one)
tv (I want to get us a new one for Christmas, one of those flat-screen ones. 32''. The cheapest, lol)
grandfather clock

Dining room:
dining table
(maybe a new set of matching chairs from craigslist...these mismatched ones we have now don't even have vintage charm)
china cabinet

Bedroom (mine. Can't really dictate my parents' room lol)
bed and desk. I think I want the bed back on top of the desk. That way I can have more space.
piano? How big do I think my room is going to be?
proper bookshelf. A sturdy one. from craigslist, dude.
dresser
hamper.

Okay wait. If my room is the size that the one I have now is, then I don't need to put my bed on top of my desk, and I can buy those under-bed storage drawers, and keep my off-season clothes and extra blankets/sheets under there. Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. And I can have my bedside table next to my bed, and actually have space for my phone and my alarm clock. Yay! I would try to put my desk opposite my bed, instead of adjacent to it. Yes. I tink dis is how I shall do de ting. Yes indeedly.

Of course, we still need a place to go. But all in due time, I guess. I've been calling around and emailing different places. Sigh. This takes a while.

I'm sleepy.

Also, my mom had a really tough day yesterday because she went to the urologist to see if her body could handle having the catheter out and use the bathroom regularly, and it didn't work out. So they had to put it back in. =( and she was in SO MUCH PAIN, it was awful. She cried and cried and tossed and turned and tried to stand and crouch and sit and lie down and didn't know what to do and what the heck am I supposed to do? It's awful. I'm trying so hard to be understanding and helpful but what do you  really do when you can't touch somebody because they're already in pain? So I just end up hovering uselessly unless she needs something. I promised myself I'd be stronger this time, and I think I am, but I still hate it. I hate all of it. The cancer, the stupid doctors, the pain, the idiotic landlord who is kicking us out mid-winter KNOWING what we're going through with my mom...I wouldn't really wish suffering on anybody, but this lady who we rent from...............

Sigh.

Forgive me. I'm trying.

And then to make it worse, today my tutoring session got canceled and my mom got happy because she was looking forward to spending the day with me...and I didn't realize that. So when I went to get groceries, I stayed out, basically for the whole afternoon and evening because I wanted to drive around and rest my mind and relax...and then when I got home she was in so much pain and crying again and was in such despair and so sad...she gets depressed. And I get that. I mean, how could one not get depressed with all this? And she's lonely, cause she's a people person but she spends most of her day all alone, and a lot of the time in pain, or just with her thoughts that torment her. And I wish I could do today over again. If I could, I'd come straight home and stay with her all day. And read to her, and we'd watch movies and plan stuff and discuss what she needs. But instead, I abandoned her when she needed me. Seriously. It's killing me inside. I'm probably going to go and cry myself to sleep now, but ... can I just wake up this morning again and get a do-over? Please?

Why can't I do anything right?

Why?

Good night. Maybe I'll wake up yesterday.

necessary stuff

Things Mom needs:

iP6 supplement
raw, organic veggies to blend and drink
tea of life supplement
HCl supplement
green tea supplement
vitamin C supplement (that special one)
new coat
two bras
some long-sleeved shirts (find these...she has some)
a new phone
new house slippers that are comfortable
winter boots


Things I need:
two new bras
an umbrella
two pairs of jeans
a pair of dress flats for work in a bigger size

Things I would like to have:
a pair of pretty plugs in 00g


There. I just needed to get that all out of my head and down where I can see it so I can start making it happen.

Pre-Christmas

We're moving, so no decorating. Not really.

But that doesn't mean I can't shirk my responsibilities at work and make a list of Christmas movies to watch instead!

Home Alone 1 and 2
The Christmas Kiss (my favorite)
Pentatonix On My Way Home Documentary (not a Christmas movie, but still. I've been putting it off for a special time. And I first fell in love with the band at the beginning of December last year.)

Wait. I can't think of any others.

Oh well.

I'm sure I'll get recommendations.

I want a new set of plugs (pretty ones) and a gold hoop for my nose. But I no has ze money.

And we need someplace to move to. I guess I should call the places I found online. Why does it feel like I'm the only one to do any of this stuff? My dad doesn't call realtors or anything, he just sits around and waits for an apartment to fall into his lap. Yeesh. Or he thinks someone will recommend? I dunno. I dunno what goes on in his brain. Seriously, though, once my mom gets better and stuff, I want to save up and get my own place. Preferably with my bff Khrys. Cause something has to give. Like, this can't last forever. It just can't.

technology rant..and other stuff

Why does technology only work when it wants to? And why doesn't it work when you really need it to? What sort of conspiracy IS this?

No, really.

What's going on?

And I know this is kind of a big jump to make, topic-wise, but I sort of wish I wasn't alive. Like, that I had never been born. What is my purpose for being here? I don't like being here. I'd like to go away.

And if everybody is going to die, then why bother being born? Why do we have to exist in this huge cosmic space thingamabob called the universe? It's bothersome, being alive. I don't like it.

And why do some people have life circumstances that allow them to branch out and try things and be successful at them, and why do others get held back, no matter how hard they try? And what do I need to do to get this stupid car alarm to stop randomly going off? Does anyone have a bazooka to blast it into infinity? It's very annoying.

Seriously. It sounds like someone's programming their car's ringtone.

SIGH.

There is no point to anything. Nothing matters. It really doesn't.

So I just realized (being up at 2:30 a.m. and looking on Pinterest for clothing inspiration) that I've dyed my hair twice in my life. Didn't realize that before.

Hmm. Kinda want to do it again, but blonde this time.

That's a big commitment.

Cheez-its and Blue Moon for dinner.

Then fall asleep to the sound of Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love.

Me.

This is epic.

I'm happy. I'm stressed in other ways, but right now, I'm mostly happy. And I'll take all the happiness I can get.

I got my logos delivered, finally! And I LOVE them!

They are perfection. Like, this is so exciting. So now all I have to do is complete the music for the song (I've been saying that for a while now, but mom has been in the hospital for a little over a week and so it's been pretty crazy) and draft up the audition call.

This is great. And the weather is good, too, so maybe it's God giving me some extra time to film.

I'm also officially a tutor. Nice. Yes. Indeedly.

Mom should be coming home tomorrow. I've got a lot to do to prepare. I also tutor again. But for now, I'm going to focus on what's making me happy, because I need it.

I'm going to make music.

Sitting

I'm sitting crosslegged, currently, and there's smooth jazz playing from a CD player in the corner. The lighting is dim. It could almost be a nice, classy jazz bar, were it not for the constant humming noise coming from the giant machine across the room that my mom is currently nestled inside, wrapped up tightly like a human burrito and under strict instructions not to move her head "an inch."

She's getting a PET/CT scan.

I noticed something this evening that I overlooked before. Up on the ceiling, right where her head sticks out, the monotony of the white ceiling squares is broken by a rouge tile painted with the scene of a rainbowed hot air balloon soaring through vibrant blue skies. A thoughtful gesture, that.

All I want is to be normal. Not to have to be the mother, the caretaker. I have no one to lean on. I refuse to, even if someone were to offer me a shoulder to cry on, I wouldn't take it. To do so would be to weaken myself, to share some of the burden.

But what happens when the person you choose to share with drops their half of the load?

No. I'm fine. And I will be fine. I promised myself I would be strong this time. I knew it would be hard, harder than before. But I'll be fine.

I just want to be normal.

Heartbeat

This city has a heartbeat.
When you walk, you feel it in your feet
The ever pulsating rhythm of millions
Dreaming bigger than the stars can imagine

A hundred hundred thousand wishes reaching up
To the skyscrapers that scratch the smoggy atmosphere and
Tear a hole in the fabric of reality
One collective roar of infinite possibility

When you are here
Anything is possible.

The tires burn the roads, black on black, yellow and green zipping by
Containing the the whispered stories of a thousand entangled lives
 Just for a moment you exist in theirs

She walks with a limp, the woman in the red coat whose eyes are
Fixated on her cell phone
She does not see me watching, does not hear me believing with every fiber
Every spark of my whole being that
All of her dreams will come true.

When you are here
Anything is possible.

The man in the business suit who is looking for an address at
Ten pm overlooks me
Inconspicuous on a two-wheeled contraption making my own
Dreams come true
Like so many others in this ever-ticking city
Where the clock never stops

And anything. Anything can happen.

step by step

It's coming together, slowly, oh so slowly, but surely.

I've got the logos almost completely sorted out, and I've got the song written. I think I may want to add one more verse to sort of sum it all up and complete it, but that remains to be seen. This week I'll be working on the music for the song, and I'm excited about that.

I think I'll put together my flyer this afternoon. I'm going to recruit people from the theater department at my school.

Besides that, I need to finish the screenplay outline, or whatever that's called, and then set a filming date. No. Not yet. NO! YET! Lol. I want it done before thanksgiving. Because then everyone will be trying to go home to their families.

It's coming together.

Good things are happening. Finally.
I mean, there's still a lot that's ugh going on, but there are two things that I'm extremely grateful for.

One: I joined an all-girls small group bible study, and it's amazing because there are actually other Christian people in the world. Like, I only see Christians in church or on tv. But not my age, and certainly not as nice and genuine like these girls are. So I'm really happy about that.

Two: I'm sitting in my car now having just come back from meeting with the dad of an eleven year old that I might start tutoring. I didn't get to have the first session like I wanted to because his mom wasn't feeling well unexpectedly, but I prayed beforehand and the meeting went well. I also didn't get bitten by the two dogs they had in their yard...instead I got fawned over and they were friendly.

I don't know what's going to happen ten minutes from now when I walk into my house, and I'm nervous about that because I brought the kittens inside today and my dad got quite upset. So they're hiding out in my room and have probably peed on my clothes or something, despite the fact that I put a litter box in there. The boy, Satchel, uses the box but his sister, River Song, is too afraid and earlier she pooped on a bag downstairs. Sigh. But I want to keep them so bad.

Point is, I'm feeling a little bit encouraged. From this small group and tutoring thing. And tomorrow I'm supposed to help out with New Hope Kids, so...small things to make me happy are cool. I'll take those any day.

Muah. Have a great day.

I hate this

I hate that all of my posts are so negative lately. I just want it to be peaches and candy and sunshine, Care Bears and blueberries and pineapples and smiles and I want to keep the two kittens that we feed and I want to not have my life turned upside down and topsy turvy and be overworked and unhappy. I want to go back to school. I want a different job. As a matter of fact, I don't even want a different job, I want my career to start.

I have to fight for every moment of spare time I can get to get some writing done or anything creative. It's so crazy. But I refuse to give up. If I did, I'd go mad.

I was so sick that I had to be out of work Monday and Tuesday; today was my first day back. And I worked eleven hours today. I literally didn't punch out until 9:00pm.


It's funny, when I envision my future it's always filled with good things. But when I live it, it's so difficult. I'm not going to bother to complain about my mom because you already know the deal. But we're being forced out of this home so fast, and relationships are deteriorating and tension is rising and we're all exhausted and pushed beyond our limits.

It's so hard. It's just. So. Hard.

the nonsense that is my life

It's not that big of a deal.

Really, it's not.

The walls aren't closing in on me.

They're not. They're really not. They're really, really not.

I can totally manage this. I'm stronger than this. I'm so much stronger than everything that's trying to beat me down. It cannot win. I will win.

I just have to write it all out, and prioritize. Figure out what has to be done now, versus what can be done later.

Home Stuff:
pack
look for apartments PRIORITY TWO
take care of the animals ALWAYS PRIORITY ONE
take care of mom. (wtf though? WTF? This is the bit that gets me, besides the animal care bit. I feel like she doesn't do ANYTHING for herself. WTF.)


Work Stuff:
Fire Inspection book up to date (over a year's worth of daily entries) Ok. Do two pages each morning, and two each evening.
CACFP book up to date (over a year's worth of daily entries) Do five pages a day.

Venture Stuff:
Finish reading and sign the creative brief PRIORITY ONE
finish the second song PRIORITY TWO
write more on DBB
edit my Dear Me video

I need to take care of me. I need to take care of my piercings, of my skin, I need to do my laundry...I need to eat properly too. People look at us and think, oh, they live in a house, oh they have nice furniture. They have a car. But they don't look into the bills that come with all of that. All my money goes to the car note and the insurance and the internet bill and my student loans that I'm paying back. I can't even finish school because they won't let me back in until I pay off my last semester's bill. All of our furniture...ALL of it, with the exception of my desk-bed and my parent's bedroom set, is stuff that we got for free from craigslist or picked up off the curb over the years. Even my piano was free from that freecycle website. We're not rich. We're struggling to pay our bills, and we have tens of thousands of dollars in unpaid hospital bills hanging over our heads as well. We make too much to get food stamps, but too little to keep enough food on the table as well as a roof over our heads. Most of the time, dinner consists of the lunch that my dad's job gives him, that he doesn't eat, but rather brings home to share with the family.

So that's my life.

So to the people who look at us and think we have it all together, we don't. We're falling apart at the seams. We're being evicted from our place because we can't pay the rent, when it's not even our fault. Stupid landlord put her son in the basement burning our light and gas for a year and just....

I don't want to talk about it.

Most times I feel like punching a hole through the wall or smashing glass or something, just anything to vent out this frustration. Instead, I sat at the top of the stairs and cried, then went and washed my face and went back to helping my mom.

Why the duck does my life have to be this way? I want to quit everything. Just walk away, leave everyone behind, and hitchhike across the country doing nothing. I'd make more money in a day if I sat in manhattan holding a sign that said I needed it for weed than I do busting my chops at my honest job.

Maybe I'll do that. Dress up in a crappy hoodie and some baggy jeans, make a cardboard sign that says "need money for weed" and just sit there all day.

I'm stuck. In a way, I chose to be stuck. I chose to stay home with my mom when she got sick, and I chose to be so weak and "obedient" when she said I wasn't allowed to dorm. I think....I don't know what to think. I'm going to go read that creative brief so I can get that over with.

She

she sits on the shingles
On the top of her world
While the others dance and everyone mingles
She won't let anyone in

She has eyes the color of the soil after rain
A soul that predates the year of her birth
And when she smiles it almost hides the pain
She doesn't know what she's worth

The only place to hide
Is right in plain sight
Where the mundane and the surreal collide
She can't let anyone see

She has eyes the color of the soil after rain
A soul that predates the year of her birth
And when she smiles it almost hides the pain
She doesn't know what she's worth

(Bridge)
A million souls and a billion faces
And she can't be seen by a single one
A hundred million homes and places
And none of them are safe to run....to.

She has eyes the color of the soil after rain
A soul that predates the year of her birth
And when she smiles it almost hides the pain
She doesn't know what she's worth.

Dear Me.

Dear Me,

You're sixteen years old. You've just had the most awkward, non-traditional sweet sixteen birthday party ever, four months after your actual birthday. Your best friend is spending the summer with you, and you've just gotten your first job. Congratulations, you're going to love it.

You're also going to save up and buy your first cell phone this year, but be careful. Having a direct line to you isn't the smartest thing in the world. You're still going to be extremely insecure when school starts back, but that's okay. You'll loosen up a lot this year and become more independent. You'll try out for the volleyball team, that sport you never ever wanted to play because it was for ditzy valley girls, and you'll actually make varsity.

But dear me, I have a bone to pick with you. Stop lying to your parents so much. Stop staying out late after school and then lying about where you've been. It's not worth the pain and frustration it causes you when you get home - not to mention what it's going to do to your relationship with your parents. Trust is not something easily gained, and you're throwing out of the window as though it were confetti. Please, please understand that they're worried about you, and it's frightening to see you growing up so quickly - ten years from now, you'll feel the same way as you watch your niece grow up.

Two years from now, on your way to college, you'll meet a boy. He's going to look exactly like you've always imagined, tall with dark curly hair, and a skater, to boot. He's even going to like you, like you.

HE IS BAD NEWS.

Please walk away from him. Don't give him the time of day, don't let him walk you to the train station...don't. He's going to break your heart, and he's going to take a lot of things from you that you can never get back, your first year GPA being one of them. Please don't talk to him...

Dear me, you're going to argue with your mom, a lot. And let me tell you something. That's not going to have changed ten years into your future. But it's a learning process for the both of you; you asserting yourself, her learning to let go and allow you to be you. You'll figure it out eventually, more or less. At the very least, you'll learn which battles are worth fighting.

Dear me, what's with those brightly colored leather belts you're always wearing, and why don't you ever take the tag off? You'll outgrow the "everything must match my shoes" phase soon...I can't wait for that.

You should try wearing your hair in an afro more often...it looks good on you. Don't you remember all the compliments you got that one time you tried it? Don't let your fear of what others will think stop you from being you. People are going to think what they want to regardless, and why should you change who you are or want to be to make them happy? You're the one who has to live with yourself for your entire life. So stop being so concerned about fitting in, or looking cool, or what others think of you. It doesn't matter. You'll probably always struggle with that, but try to remember that God didn't make a world full of carbon copies.

Yes. Ten years from now, you will be quoting your mother.

In short, live your life, and enjoy yourself. Your teenage years might feel like they will last forever, but one day you'll look back on a memory that feels like yesterday and be shocked to realize that it happened over a decade ago.

So live. Laugh. Love...yes, you are capable of that. Just try to direct it at the right people, the ones who value you in return. When you do that, you can live a life that has a few less regrets in it.

And whatever you do, do it with all your heart.

Dear me,

I love you.

nothing is ever enough.

ever.

organizing

I do all my stuff here.

All my stuff.

You just don't see it.

*smiles*

Anyway.

Okay, so I've come across this really cool and helpful blog, that helps new and beginning bloggers to blog more bloggerifically.

(that made perfect sense in my head)

So I'm going to attempt to make a thing, for my thing, and I'm going to write down what sort of things I need in my thing.

(that also made perfect sense)

Ok. So for my nerdy stuff, here's what I need in a topic planner.

Main Section
Day it gets posted on
Research (bibliography)
topic
post number
title
ideas
tags
keyword phrase

checklist
spellcheck
feature image
add tags
categorize it
promote it

Social media section
feature image
condensed summary
bit.ly

Gosh but sometimes I just get lazy. And I'm hot.

=(

alright

So some people think I should be saving up to move out on my own.

Eh.

My priorities are different. When I really sit back and think about it with a level head, I can't support myself on my own yet, and I want to finish my master's degree. Why should I struggle to do that when I can have support? Why should I voluntarily push away support? And I'm not talking about monetary, only. I mean...well. Anyway.

So what I'm saving for is to pay off my stupid SB fall 2014 bill. So that I can go back. And then I can get the career that I want.

Yes.

And work on my entrepreneurial endeavors in the meanwhile.

Someone help me.

idek (I don't even know)

I don't know what's going on. I don't know how to make sense of it all, and it's all in this huge mess inside my head, so I'm just going to ramble on disjointedly, and hopefully it all comes out and I can purge it and get a clearer perspective.

My job is falling apart.
My family feels like it's falling apart.
I'm so utterly confused on the inside and the outside and well, no, not the outside because I have to put on a fake smile at work everyday and it's so godawful to pretend everything is okay and to smile and say I'm fine when really I'm not and I don't know what's important anymore or how to prioritize anything or what to do moving forward or if I even am moving forward or am I just going to be stuck for the rest of my life...do I need to make changes? What do I need to change? How can I be there for  my family and take care of myself at the same time?

WHAT AM I DOING WRONG???????

Tell me. Some one with authority, please, please tell me and I'll change. I promise. I just don't know what it is. I'm obviously doing something incorrectly. But everything is just a big mess.

Someone told me that they had the gift of prophecy (back in December, I think) and that very soon, a crap ton of things were going to happen to me within a six-month time period that was going to be so overwhelming. I'm starting to wonder if this is it.

Both directors at my job up and quit. Just like that. Like, wtf? And that is going to leave a sh**ton of work for me, and they kept me out of the loop so much when they were here that I don't know half of what is going on now or how to deal with the backlash that is going to happen. We're understaffed. I'm looking for another job.

My mom and I...just....gosh. I don't know who to listen to, who to believe. It's like, if so many people, literally everyone who comes into our lives, is telling me that the way she is behaving is destructive towards me and the family, mustn't it be true? Isn't she the one that needs to change? But she always makes me feel as though I'm the one who is not doing enough, who doesn't care, but like, why can't you take care of yourself? Why do you have to sit home for eight hours a day, while I'm at work, and then only eat one rice cake and tell me about it when I come home like "I'm so miserable, I'm so desperately tired, and hungry, I need to eat and sleep, all I've eaten today is one rice cake, please make me food, please buy food for me, please take me here and there and everywhere..." Like, it's not my fault you didn't eat all day. I wasn't there preventing you from eating. Don't tell me you don't have food to eat, because you say you want a raw diet, but when there is salad in the fridge you don't want to prepare it.

When I've been at work all day long, and I come home and need to relax, recharge (I'm an introvert. I really, really REALLY don't like interacting with people) then you need me to drive you all around. And we don't get back till eleven pm or so. That is SO incredibly draining. So tell me. Am I wrong? And yes I complain. WHO WOULDN'T?

But then there are other times where I try to do things before being asked to. Like I'll get up in the morning and put on hot water like she needs, and bring it up to her. Or I'll get stuff together and make a giant salad that should last a day or two. And I'll take care of the animals. Oh yeah, the animals. Good God. We have two cats, four fishes, and two turtles. Now here's what I should be doing EVERY DAY.

Cats: Feed them, morning, lunch break, evening when I come home, and night before bed. Also clean the litterbox each time as well. Or at least check to see if it needs cleaning. Also put them outside on the leashes once a day, sometimes twice, depending on the weather. And then brush them each time I bring them back in.

Turtles: We have a 55 gallon tank. It used to be half full, and I would clean it every single day, completely. Cause turtles STANKY. LIKE STINKY STANKY. Now we have a smaller container inside it with water, but the filter won't fit in there, so I should still clean that each day. And I also have to feed them three times a day (because mom freaks out if they don't eat that often) and take them out and put them in a giant basin filled with water in order for them to eat there so when they poop it doesn't go in their home tank water.

Fishes: Feed them 3x/day. Also clean out their filter each day.

Then I'm supposed to sweep the bathroom floors each day, and clean the sinks as well. And I have to pre make meals for my mom. But see the thing is, whenever I do that, she decides she "can't" eat it, for whatever reason. So why bother? But still I try. But it's not enough, it's never enough.

So if I'm at work from 10:30 to 6:30, and doing things for you and the house until around 11pm or midnight, then when do I sleep? Or if I'm beyond exhausted and have to sleep, when do I work on my YouTube? When do I write? When do I do my blogs? When can I relax and read...if I were in school, when would I do my homework, my research, conduct my interviews?

How does all this fit into one life without burning it out? I can't take it.

I've had to take one day off per week because my job is too poor to pay us workers. So now I'll be making less. And I freaking joined Postmates and should be making some money, and my parents tried to (and succeeded in) talking me out of it. Like, what. the. sludge. (I'm trying so hard not to curse. SO HARD)

So I said screw that; just because you think that since I have a degree I should be working my way up and not down the ladder...I'm not going down the ladder. I'm doing something on the side. Something I actually WANT to do. So I signed up for shifts again. I'm doing it. I don't give a rats tail what they say. My mom doesn't want me to get hit riding bikes in the city, my dad thinks I'll be moving down the economic ladder.

SCREW IT ALL.

Why is so much of my life dictated by my parents and not wanting to disappoint/hurt/displease them? Why do I feel the need to run everything by them? It's because when I don't, I get made to feel bad about it. Like, FUKKKK. Can't I have my own life? You are NOT always going to be a part of it. Not to the extent that you have been for so long. Like I was literally afraid to move out because I worried who would be the mediator between my parents when they argued, and how would their marriage hold up without me? Well guess what? That's not my darn problem. I didn't ask you to get married. I didn't ask to be born. I could have done very well without existing. I would have been better off. So I'm not getting involved in their crap. They refuse to listen to me, they have deep seated issues from before I was even born that they're still holding onto and holding against each other, what am I supposed to do about that? NOTHING. I can't. I won't. I'm not being cruel or insensitive. I'm just doing my part, which is not to be involved in something that doesn't involve me.

I can't keep living my life like this. I need to live my dreams. And not answer to parents. My parents didn't answer to theirs by the time they were in their mid twenties. They lived in different countries by then. And I actually pointed this out to my mom today, and she said that she believes God sent her to America to teach her about Him.

I'm so done.

Really? So it's God's will and plan for me to be treated like a teenager my whole freaking life? NOT FCKING HAPPENING. I'd kill myself first. Sad, but quite probably true.

Although a less drastic option would be to move out, but honestly, I was away at campus and my mom would ask me to call her each night when I got back in the dorm. Needless to say, I didn't. And she used sound all wounded...like really, you're just needy. And I'm your only child and you don't want to let go of me. If you let me go, I'll come back. I'll want to be around you. If you tie a rope to me, I'll run and stay away the first chance I get.

Kind of like my cat.

I'm so tired. I need a plan.

You know what sucks, too? I don't feel any less upset or confused. Fudge. Writing usually helps.

Reminiscing and a Rant

I'm going to try this. I didn't do much of it last time, when I was going through everything. I don't know how I survived.

But I think I'm stronger this time. Or maybe I'm just numb. I'm not sure which...

How do you escape something? I'd like to run away.

You know, writing has always helped me, always been a part of who I am. I remember being four or five years old and in my parent's old Montecarlo that my dad paid a hundred bucks for. We were on the highway, on our way to church, I think, and I sat in the backseat next to my brother, scrawling away for all I was worth in my giant gray spiral notebook.

It was a story about a girl and her dog. A big, shaggy dog. Complete with illustrations.

*smiles fondly to self*

I was nine. We lived in a one bedroom apartment, all six of us. My mom, dad, brother, uncle, cousin, and me. The kitchen table was squeezed into a corner in front of the TV, and every night I'd perch on the old bar stool my dad had picked up and hammer away at my rustic typewriter. I loved that thing.

Somehow the feeling of creating lines and marks on a page that have meaning, that transport you from where you're sitting to another time, another place, another world entirely...somehow that's the best feeling there is.

So I'm going to try to do it more often.

I'm afraid. It doesn't make sense to tell people what's going on in my life, because it sounds like I'm looking for attention or pity. I'm not. I'd rather be quiet. I don't want to complain. But some days I feel like I'm going to burst, or like I want to hurl myself out of the window and find myself in an injured puddle on the asphalt. What do I do? Where is the outlet? How can I manage when I come home at six thirty in the evening and it's ten at night before I get to do anything for myself? How do I manage when my mom is constantly in pain, or depressed, or needy, or...I'm painting a bad picture of her.

She's going through so much. It's not all about me. I hate seeing her in pain, or upset. I don't know how to make it better. Why, why, why? Just, why? Is this supposed to prepare me for something later on in life? I hope not. I can't imagine what I'd have to face that would require me to be going through this now.

And while I'm at it, I might as well just pour out everything.

I think I'm a horrible person. No, really. I must be. I'm selfish (as is evidenced by my constantly complaining and wanting to be by myself when my mom needs help....

No. I can't take this. It's ten fourteen pm. It was ten oh six when I got out here to write. My mom just called me from where I dropped her off, and now I have to go pick her up, and drive her friends home.

Bye.

Writers block

I have to write sometimes.

Sometimes it's so much easier than others. Like if I'm writing a blog post. That I know no one will ever see except for the occasional odd person who stumbles across it and has no idea who I am.

Whenever I want to write to make my life better...to create and inspire....IT'S SO DIFFICULT!!!!!

Insanity

I'm losing my mind.

Slowly, more quickly at times than others, but surely.

Joy Burger

I'm sitting in my favorite restaurant in NYC, wishing I had my laptop because then the words could flow freely from my fingertips as quickly as they pour into my mind.

It's today. The Pentatonix concert. Somewhere on this tiny little island called Manhattan, is my favorite band ever. In a hotel. Somewhere.

And later on this evening, I'm going to be in the same room with them.

I'm not ready! Haha. But I'm as ready as I'll ever be. I'm not quite as panicky as I expected to be. Perhaps because I've known this day was coming for a while now.

I hope it's amazing.

I just read the blogs on Kirstie's website...and wow. I never quite knew how to relate to her. I've gone through phases of obsession with the different band members of Pentatonix ever since I discovered them. First it was Avi, who I had a supreme crush on for a few months before I realized I was being creepy and unrealistic. Then it was Scott and Mitch...or Scomiche... because I watched every single Superfruit episode and fell in love with them (and also Scott's voice...like, I can't contain myself lol). Most recently it was Kevin, because that boy (sorry, man,) can make a cello sing like no other. I love his EP. (I just realized those are my initials. Heheh).

I guess obsessing over Kirsten would be the next logical step. But she was always so quiet, so self contained in a way, that I couldn't place her into any sort of a compartment in my mind and understand her. If I'm being honest, she intimidated me. For one girl to be able to hold her own and shine in the midst of 4 guys...that takes guts. And power. And strength. And now, I'm not intimidated as much as impressed - I respect her so much.

So, to get back on track, I read her blogs. And all of a sudden, she's my new obsession. Did you know she loves to write? Even more so, that she's GOOD at it? I can relate to her! Not that I'm trying to find a piece of myself in her, because I'm not. At least, I don't think I am. Or maybe...maybe that's what we all do when looking for friends or role models or when we meet someone on the street. We look for a little piece of ourselves in them, and when we find it, we latch onto it and use it as the connecting thread that binds our hearts together.

But by reading her blog, I've realized that she's a real person. An extremely talented, gorgeous, sometimes intimidating and just completely amazing person who gets to live her dreams, but a real person nonetheless. And she inspires me.

And really, what's to stop me from doing the same?

I can live my dreams. I will live my dreams.

Love,
Eia

Pentatonix concert tomorrow!!!! I can't take the excitement!!!!!!!!

More collabs

Before I forget I wanted to add another name to my collab wish list. Mike Tompkins. What he can do with only his voice and a computer is amazing.

And come to think of it...why not create acapella dubstep science music? *nods* Great Idea.

Good night! It's two am and I'm still up cause I just made my first acapella song...which I think sounds pretty nice if I do say so myself. Anyway, I have work in the am. Catch you later!

Principles

I read somewhere recently that a man who applies methods with no principles is bound to fail, but he who has principles may use any methods he pleases. Well, that's how it's in my head. I think Ralph Waldo Emerson said it....

*goes and googles quote*

"As to methods there may be a million and then some, but principles are few. The man who grasps principles can successfully select his own methods. The man who tries methods, ignoring principles, is sure to have trouble." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

There you go.

So I've decided that I need to figure out what principles I have. No. Set principles for myself. Yes.

Okay.

1. Do NOT ever give up. Know when to change methods, but do not ever give up.
2. Know when a situation/relationship is not good for you and have the strength to remove yourself from it.
3. The truth will get you farther than a lie ever will.
4. Hard work is necessary, and overnight (lasting) success is not to be expected.
5. A soft answer turns away wrath, but grevious words stir up anger.

These are the basic ones that I can think of right now. I suppose as Emerson said, principles are few.

My Never

There were a thousand trees
To climb
A thousand stars with rivers rushing through
And I would have seen it all
With you

There were a thousand roads
to take
A thousand turns we could have made
I would have made them all
With you

But instead it's time I see
That we were never meant to be
Our roads have crossed but now diverge
And you are my never

A million smiles since we were young
But now my heart, it's come undone
There's a space that fits the shape
Of where you used to be

You worked so hard to gain my trust
Made promises to keep but
They were written in the dust
And washed away

So instead it's time I see
That we were never meant to be
Our roads have crossed but now diverge
And you are my never

Yes you are my never

quick, before I forget

I could do videos where I explain science to little kids and let them ask me questions live, and I have to try to answer their questions.

Awesome idea.

Hai there

I'm working on my first commissioned (albeit non-paid) freelance article. Yay me!

However, as comes with the territory of being me, I'm easily distracted and won't be able to focus (or at least I don't think I will) until I sort out the random thoughts bouncing around in my head.  So here they go out on paper...or screen...or bytes...whatever.

Night job. I need a night job. Then I could go to school during the daytime. Because if my school doesn't offer night classes to support a day job, then I just have to work around that, right? And if I can go to school more than half time, or at least half time, then I can get a loan from the government to help pay tuition. More debt, huh? Well, at least I'll be getting my degree.

So that makes sense, right? I should totally do that. I'm not doing a job that's in my field right now anyway, so what difference does it make if I apply to be nighttime manager at Macy's or Home Depot or something like that? Maybe I could even be a security guard at the hospital. Well, not a security guard, because they stand around a lot, but a receptionist. Overnight. Yes! I could do my homework during the quiet hours, I could get my research done....This is a must. I really think this is a good idea. Which means I should probably pray about it...

Hmm.

I keep having this sense of obligation to the job where I'm at now. Although if I could get Ms. J.J. to step right in and fill in my spot when I leave, then I wouldn't feel so bad. I wonder how much a nighttime receptionist gets paid at the hospital. They might even have benefits! Like health insurance. One has to make changes in one's life that lead one down the right path and are for the better, right? Like don't stay stuck in a dead end job just because the company needs the help. Especially not if that job is keeping you back from what you really want to do in life. Especially if that job is preventing you from being able to go back to school, is taking up all of your days, is stressing you out, is barely paying you enough...

I'm going to look at all hospitals that are in NYC and see if they're hiring for overnight desk people. I can totally do that. And if I work every night, five  nights a week, an eight hour shift, say, from 8pm to 4am, then I can go home, sleep till...well. Hey. It'll work out. It's not like I haven't done it before.

Okay. See? Head is clear. Back to writing the article.

Laters!

Too many directions

I hate the term "I feel like," but I feel like I have too many projects.

Like, there's a lot. Or at least, it feels like a lot in my head.

1. Lanese's photos (short-term, if I just got it done with)
2. Agape News (granted, even shorter term because it's due in a week)
3. The Nerdy Stuff website (long-term)
4. The Nerdy Stuff Youtube (long-term, needs to be started now)
5. Music (this one has subcategories)
    a. guitar
    b. voice
    c. piano
    d. dubstep
6. My book (long-term, but needs to be done by the end of this year. So actually, make that short-term)
7. School. I need to finish school.
8. I work. Ugh.

And then there are the hobbies. Like crocheting and drawing and photography and dancing...

Why am I doing so much stuff? Or rather, not doing it? Time management is probably the main issue - that and feeling as though it's all piled up and un-tackle-able. For instance, right now I should be completing the outline for my Agape News article.

I've gotta get this sorted.

Main foci have to be...the Nerdy Stuff line, and along with that comes voice...and getting Lanese's photos to her.
Everything has to focus around that goal. I want to be able to film my video by late July.
I'll have to put off school for...what? Another year? Do I spend my tax refund money so that I can go? Wait.. I'm so confused. I negotiated a debt settlement today, so that I can have one of my credit cards paid off by January.

I don't know if that was a good idea or not...because basically, it ties me down to work full-time through January of next year. It also took my money that I was going to use to pay off my SB balance by July. But....one of my goals was to have no more credit card debt by the time I'm thirty. It's looking good to have one of them paid off by the time I'm twenty-seven, right?

This is why they say finish school first. Otherwise, you start to work, pay bills, get tied up in paying bills and making ends meet...at least I don't have kids yet. Thank God...and let's keep it that way for quite some time.

Okay. Uh...what if we set an insane plan and stick to it?

May 2015 - January 2016 Pay off Barclay card
keep things going with car payments and insurance
Write one page every day on DBB

That's not really insane, but it's going to take discipline.

Wish me all the best.

This will be dark

You've been duly warned. This post will get dark.

About two years ago... or perhaps a year and a half ago, I went through what was undoubtedly the darkest, most difficult period of my life to date. I honestly hit rock bottom, and I think that now, since I'm in a much better place, I need to talk about it. Write about it, rather. Sort of purge it from my system.

My mother was diagnosed with advanced cervical cancer, we nearly lost her, a sort-of-relationship that I was far too invested in ended, we moved house, I graduated college, and contemplated suicide.

There. I said it.

Honestly. I've never known desperation the way I did during that time. I oscillated between giving up on God entirely and begging him desperately to intervene and save my mother. I remember sitting in the shower, conditioner in my hair, my father and our old neighbors just outside the door packing together our things for the move, and my mother was in the hospital. I sat in the shower and screamed as loudly and silently as I could, bawling, crying until my gut cramped, begging God not to let my mother die.

I was like a zombie most days at school...I couldn't sleep at night because I kept playing over and over in my mind how I would react if I were to go to check on my mother and find her not breathing. What would I do? Would I try to wake her? Would I do CPR (that I could barely remember) or call 911? The mornings would come all too soon and not quickly enough.

I began to think that maybe if I were to cut myself the physical pain might ease the constant ache in my chest. It was never something I had considered before, but I had read about it and well...maybe there was some truth to be found in it. I went in my father's toolbox, since I didn't have a razor, and found an old boxcutter knife. I did my best to scrub all the rust off of it, reasoned that I had had a tetanus shot recently, and brought it with me into the shower.

Fear kept me from doing any real damage to myself, but I did manage to slice my skin - and what was odd, the burning sensation I felt on my wrist was both entirely new to me and as old as time itself. It was comforting and familiar and terrifying all at the same time.

I wasn't officially "in a relationship" at the time, but I had a relationship in the normal sense and use of the word that I now realize I was far, far too invested in. I put all my eggs in one basket...as my coworker put it, I gambled everything I had, and lost. The one person that I confided in, who had taken years to gain my trust, who literally knew everything about me, pulled away and left me confused and hurt at the point where I was most vulnerable. If he ever wonders why I no longer speak to him, that's my reason. When I lost the one person I could lean on, that was the last straw.

I still rode the train to school almost every morning, and I would stand on the platform of the Long Island Railroad and watch the train approach with its gusty wind and noisy horn...and wonder if it would hurt very much if I jumped. I would picture myself carefully edging closer and closer to the edge as the train approached and then just...stepping...down. I knew the train would most likely drag me, most likely crumple my body as it ground to a stop, and that was the part I dreaded. What if I didn't die immediately on impact? Or worse, what if I survived?

In the end, what stopped me was the reluctance to put my parents through anything more than they were already facing. We already had $75,000 in medical bills for my mother, why should I add funeral costs to that? If she died, why should my father lose me as well? What would that do to him? Would he finally give up? I didn't want to be the reason for my father to finally lose hope.

So I would stand there and imagine it, and the train would slow to a stop, and the doors would open, and I would get on and take a seat by the window and stare out listlessly while my mind raced in helpless circles.

I failed organic chemistry that semester. The final class I needed in order to graduate - I got an F on each of the four midterms and on the final exam. I never had time to study. Between visiting my mother in the hospital, working overnight shifts at my job until 4 a.m., and trying to balance out my other classes, it was probably a lost cause from the beginning.

In the end, though, I graduated. Even though I missed the part of the ceremony where I should have walked across the stage to receive my diploma, (and my brother wasn't there, who I desperately wished to be there, and neither was he,  who I had hoped could be there as well) at least my mother was able to come along with my father and I was able to sit next to my friend from work. Small mercies, right?

After that debacle, I retook organic chemistry at City College and barely passed it. I went to school four days a week and had to hurry home in order to drive my mother to radiation therapy each day. She was so weak during that time. We drove the borrowed church van, an old, beat up Dodge fourteen-seater that made every bump in the road feel like a pit. Still, it was transportation and better than the bus...

We celebrated when my mother took her last radiation treatment. The hospital had a tradition where patients would strike a gong on the day of their final treatment, but my mother wanted to shake a tambourine instead, so we videotaped that and took a ton of pictures. She gave a really, really long speech to all the doctors and nurses there...

That was a long summer. Some days I thought I hated my mom. She was so needy, and I was exhausted and depressed. I didn't know how to care for her or please her, and she was always in pain - so sore from the radiation treatments. Her hair had thinned from the chemotherapy, and she was literally skin and bones. She'd lost nearly seventy pounds in a few months. When we went out, I didn't recognize her.

Slowly, though, she began to regain strength and we started going for walks in the afternoons. I put off starting grad school for a year. Our walks gradually became longer, and her hair began to grow back. She regained color in her cheeks. I went into the basement and dug around until I found her clothes from before she had me...tiny, flimsy little things that when I held them up I couldn't imagine the mother I was used to fitting into those.

When I brought them up to her, they hung on her like rags.

The doctor said she needed to eat six meals a day to gain weight. I set alarms on my phone...every three hours. I grew to hate every alarm sound that my cell had to offer. I tried to decorate my new bedroom and make the house look like a home. Topaze was my constant companion when I cleaned and decorated. I discovered that if I climbed out my bedroom window I could sit on the roof of the den and look at the sky, feel the sun on my face and space all around me. I took to doing that at sunrise and at night, where I would try to count the stars as they popped up in the sky and tried not to think about the time he drove me all the way out west to see the Milky Way.

It took me a long time before I could look at the stars without wanting to cry.

A friend of ours came and spent a few weeks to help out...although I'm not sure whether she really helped or not. Other friends came by to help my mom and give me a break so I could study during the time when I was in the summer class.

September rolled around, and my mom made it to another birthday. She was still skin and bones, because her weight fluctuated so much, but the next day we went to Elmont park and she got on the swings. I have a picture of her from that day. She was smiling and looked happy. I think I was happy too.

My dad went back to work - he'd taken more than a month off when my mom was at the worst of it all. I don't know how he managed to hold up through all of it. I really, honestly don't. I know he cried a few times...though he tried not to let me see. I know he got irritated and angry and snapped at my mom sometimes, but I did too. I was a horrible person then.

By the time the leaves turned brown (they don't turn orange here) my relationship with my mom had improved marginally. I still avoided her as much as I could because I felt so drained, but she was much more self-sufficient and less cranky. I suppose the fact that she could actually sleep upstairs in the bed instead of having to be in an armchair for two months might have had something to do with the improvement.

We had gotten fairly settled in the house, and Thanksgiving came and went peacefully. Christmas came around, and she had a celebration event with the family, my brother's family, and a few close friends that doubled as an anniversary party. It was my parents' twenty fifth wedding anniversary.

So many milestones, and so many...trials. All at the same time.

Things looked up from there. I got very depressed for a while when it seemed like I wasn't doing anything with my life...I wasn't in school, I wasn't working, I couldn't see how I could begin either and felt terribly underqualified for anything I would think of doing...but my mom came through and found me a job that's actually two blocks from where we live. Things are looking up now...I was able to start grad school and complete two semesters (although I only took two classes in total...slow and steady wins the race, right?) and I bought a car.

Things are looking up.

My mom is so much better, and my dad and I survived. We've even been able to help out someone in need and give them a place to stay.

Things are looking up.

I have a website!

It's www.thenerdystuff.com

YESSSSSS!

Yahhhoooo!

YAYYYYY!

Thanks, God! I'm so excited!

Okay. Plans.

thenerdystuff.com - actual articles, embedded youtube videos, redefining the way people look at science

thenerdystuff.tumblr.com - shorter excerpts, teasers that link to my main website (I just love saying that)

youtube.com/thenerdystuff - my music videos and the occasional social thing.

YESSSSSS again! This rocks.

new thoughts

We're moving again.

It seems like that's what my life is  made up of. Moving. A lot of it.

Well, good thing. If I weren't moving I'd be dead. So there.

This time we're moving into a great big house. Well, I say that because that's what we're looking for. We're tired of living next to, above, under somebody else and having to deal with what that entails. Living under someone who has three kids under age three. Well, one of them was six, but she was really short. I'm saying "well" a lot.  Over somebody who played loud music and smoked weed. Next to someone who doesn't clean their yard, throws random bits of garbage and used toilet paper onto our back steps, and smokes cigarettes. Where I can't go sit on the roof outside my bedroom window because the air inside my room is fresher than the cigarette-tainted air outside it.

No more of that.

And I'm not letting us settle for anything less than five bedrooms. One for my mom and dad, one for me, one as an office for mom, an office for dad, and a workspace for me. Screw a guest bedroom; we can get a sleeper couch for the living room. The only extenuating circumstance would be if dad wants to use the basement for his studio like he did when we first moved here. Then we can have a guest bedroom.

I'm outgrowing my bedroom. It doesn't work anymore to have a 10x10 foot square space to do everything I want in. I need a studio. A workspace. Someplace different than next to my bed to have my desk - I need somewhere to think and be productive. And then somewhere to sit and relax and sleep.

So here's how I want to lay it out.

Bedroom:
Bed. Dresser. Vanity table (with mirror!). Beanbag chair. Dress rack.

Workspace:
Desk. Blue bungee chair. Bookshelves. Music corner (guitars set up with mic & stuff)(piano?)(not the piano, unless the room is really big). Art corner (easel, worktable, art supplies).

That's what I need. Because right now, I have all of the above (minus the piano) crammed into my bedroom. Do you see why I can't think? I mean, I make it work pretty well, but I need to spread out. Because for one thing, I'm twenty six years old. Why should I be pushing thirty and still be crammed into one little room in my parents' house? It bugs me.

But I can't afford to move out just yet. No, really. I did the math. With rent in NY, I really can't. Not on this paycheck. I honestly don't know how the other employees I work with make ends meet. Well, (back to the well again) they don't have cars. Some of them. The rest are married. So I guess their husbands pitch in. Yikes.

I ate a Chobani Greek yoghurt this morning - it was REALLY good. I want another one. Actually, I want pancakes, but I don't want to go and make them. We have strawberries, though, so they would make it worthwhile.

My mom has a dentist appointment that I need to take her to by eleven fifteen today. And Topaze has a vet appointment next Saturday. And I owe my coworker twenty five bucks for a dress she gave me. I'm going to stop exchanging stuff with her...just because it's now a bother. If I have to pay for something...I mean, I wouldn't spend twenty five dollars on a dress if I bought it myself. Why should I let myself be coerced into buying one from her? Just because she brought it to work? And it's PINK, to boot. Granted, it's a nice pink, it fits me well, and is extremely classy, but still.

It's the principle of the matter.

Anywhoo. I'm off to pay some bills, yo.

Laters.

thinkin' bout love and such

Good morning. It's a lovely spring day - the sun is shining in my face, the birds are chirping, and I can hear the landscapers clearing up a distant neighbor's yard from the winter debris. Funny how to some that sound might be bothersome, but to me it's comforting. It reminds me of warm summer afternoons when I was small enough to fit beneath my mother's arm.

The cats, Topaze and Frisk Ivbony, are out here with me, and I've got my "E" mug with my favorite tea in it. I guess the only way it could get better than this was if I had a forest as my backyard.

Lately, I've been contemplating the concept of love. I'm not sure I understand what it is. Or how to show it. Or even if I feel it for anyone...family included. I thought that love was the inability to bear the absence of another, but that doesn't make sense. Because there are long-distance relationships, and you can probably still love people after they're dead.

But honestly, it's probably not even spelled L-O-V-E. I think it's spelled T-I-M-E. Because how can someone know you love them if you never make an effort to spend any time with them?

I'm guilty of that.

But I nearly always want to be by myself. And I'm not by myself nearly enough to suit my own desires and leave room in my heart for other people. Here I go making excuses again.

No, but wait. Really. Interacting with other people drains me. Annoys me, after a while. So when I'm stuck interacting with those I don't want to interact with, I have no more energy for those I would/should want to be around.

For example, my mother.

If she could sit and be quiet, I could sit and read a book next to her and be happy. But she's an extreme extrovert (five points for the alliteration, ten more for recognizing it) and always needs to talk, to share, to ask questions that require my response...it's draining. So I avoid her.

Now take my brother.

I barely know him - I realized this the other day when he refuted my claim that I love him. He moved out of the house when I was eleven, I think...and we never spent much time together before that. Of course, he was the brooding teenage boy with family issues...the stepson and the scapegoat on many occasions, and I was the annoying kid sister who couldn't keep a secret and idolized her big brother but got in the way of everything and wouldn't stop touching his stuff.

So he avoided me. I think. At least that's how it felt. Maybe he was just reclusive.

But anyway, then he moved out. And I remember being really upset when I found out he was leaving. Strangely, though, I can't remember him actually leaving. Taking his things, or anything. I just remember that he was no longer there. And I didn't know where he'd gone, either. I just stopped seeing him...and then he'd come by like...once. No, twice.

Then we moved.

And it's been like that for over a decade and a half now...with the occasional awkward visit from him and his family, and the even more un-occasional and more awkward visit from our family to his.

I can see why he thinks I don't love him. I don't text him enough. I suppose I ought to call, too. That's what siblings do, right?

But I mean, I don't even know what his favorite color is. Or his favorite food. Or...random crap that I guess siblings ought to know about each other.

Do you see how sad my life is when it comes to relationships?

This has been bothering me for a week now. Well. The "you don't love me" bit, anyhow. The rest has been bothering me for half of my life.

And I always push people away. I'm not comfortable with outward expressions of affection...it took me forever to warm up to holding hands with HIM, and I dislike getting hugs from my parents. I don't like it when other people (like my coworkers) are talking to me and then they reach out and touch me...we're not in church where a pastor has said "touch your neighbor and say 'NEIGHBOR!'"

I have a bubble of space around me, and I like it that way. I don't like when people poke said bubble. It's not okay.

And when people try to be my friend, I'm always so suspicious. Like, what could you possibly see in me that would make you want to be my friend? Why do you want to hang out with me?

I have very few friends. Really, only three or four, and of those, only two that I confide in. You know what else is weird? Of those, all four have called me their best friend. I don't understand that. When they introduce me to their other friends, these friends almost always go "Oh, hi! It's so nice to finally meet you, so and so talks about you all the time!" Like, really? Why? What do they say? What is there to say?

Well. It's getting to be time for me to find some food before I starve or my stomach hollows out (It's talking to me) and apparently it's not quite spring weather yet, if my frozen fingers are any indication.  But I need to work on love. On showing it (ugh..can't I just do nice things for you?) and spending time with the people that matter.

I'm exhausted.

Have a great day.

Hi there.
I ought to be sleeping.
But I'm not.

It's funny how much of myself I've already come into and yet still have not realized.
Once again I have this vision of myself... Gorgeous curls, a floppy Stetson, my boho septum ring...a loose, flowy shirt and some ripped jeans or shorts with ankle boots... Or moccasins. And ears stretched to 7/16ths.
And my tattoos. I'd have the empire state building on the back of my left arm, my writing quote on my right wrist, my sleeping fox on my left thigh, and I still haven't figured out a spot for my quote "all the stories are true."
I may replace that one with Jem's quote from the end of CoHF, but that's debatable. And I'm considering whether it would be too weird to get Pentatonix's symbol somewhere.

Speaking of them, I freaking got tickets to their tour with Kelly Clarkson this summer AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

MY LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL.

Okay, time to sleep now. Good night!

Springtime...unofficially.

Hi. It's good to be back.

Today was a great day. Funny, because it didn't start out that way. It started out miserable and aggravating, where I drove for an hour and a half to get someplace that should have taken me twenty minutes...and ended up not even reaching because I got fed up and turned back.

But then I got home (finally) and took a nap, and both Frisk and Topaze climbed into the bed and napped with me. And work was alright. And it's Tuesday, so Superfruit uploaded a video.

And it was warm today.
Sixty degrees.

LOVE.

After all the snow we've gotten, and the cold I caught over the weekend, warm weather is more than welcome. And I'm not being a humbug about the winter - I love winter. But I'm so ready for spring.

So in the spirit of warmer days and longer daylight hours, I'm feeling inspired and I need to blog. I'm currently in a very chill mood, listening to a song that I discovered a few minutes ago. It's called Run to the Sea and it's a collab between Royksopp and Susanne Sundfor. (Both Norwegian artists, yay) And I found a dubstep version of it. Yeah. Cue something so totally me. I need a beat and a wicked drop. =D

Thanks to Mitch for putting me on to Susanne Sundfor today.

ANYWAY, before I get too depressed about the fact that in exactly one week they're (Pentatonix) going to be in NYC and I won't be at their show...............(sigh) let me do what I came on here to do.

Make a list. (oh, I need to start up my poetry again. It kept me sane, if not happy.)

My list is of things that I want to improve about myself. I've eaten way too much chocolate in the past two days, and it's...not...good. I know my skin is going to suffer for it very soon. So we need to do something about that, me and myself. Oh. And I too. Yup.

I want to do a detox, but I'm afraid. I don't know how to do one properly, and it also seems like a whole lot of work. Schedules and yucky drinks and whatnot. How is whatnot a word? It doesn't seem like it should be. Shouldbe ought to be a word. But it's not. That's not fair, and whatnot.

:-P

I also want to sign up for a personal trainer together with my friend Nia, because I'm tired of not being active. Unfortunately that means going to a gym and being locked inside (seriously, that's what it feels like) but at least warmer days are here, so that means if I can drag myself out of bed I can go running before work. I think that's a good idea. I think I should do that. And I need to dance. And be disciplined.

Gah. It always comes down to discipline.

And I want to devote time to things I'm good at, like writing. It's like, I need to set off a block of time and just sit down and be like, START TYPING. IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'S GIBBERISH, JUST TYPE. THE MUSE WILL COME.
Yeah.
Seriously, though, even though I like working at my job, that's not something I want to be doing two years from now. Maybe a year, because it would be okay to help get me through school, except scheduling issues, but, eh. But two years? No.

Goals are important. When you write them down they become tangible. And achievable.

I also keep wanting to print out stuff that will inspire me and stick it up all around my room.

"No chocolate."
"I CAN and I WILL"
"Work until you no longer have to introduce yourself"
"Winners are not people who never fail. Winners are people who never quit."
"Don't let anything stop you from following Jesus."

And other motivational quotes like that.

I write well in the morning. Not super early morning, but sort of eight-ish nine-ish. When I don't have to force myself out of bed. When the sun is still mellow in the sky. Maybe I can write on the days when I don't go running? Where are my running shoes?

What's different in people's brains that they like dubstep music? My mom can't stand it. Why? What's the difference? hmm. Interesting.

This is getting to be a fairly long post, so I think I'll cut it here. I feel pretty good.

Love you.

Yah. I'm planning.

Okie dokes. Plans for my youtube channel.

Playlists:
Hair-related videos (tutorials, reviews, quick hairstyles) Once a month.
Fashion-related videos (thrift shopping, hauls, tag-alongs) Nifty Thrifty Thursdays (upload every other thursday)
Music videos (on my channel or grace of giving?) Covers. Guitar. A little piano. Maybe some song. Whenever.
Tags and games/challenges (occasionally and always with a friend)

planning...and ish like that.

Alla the stuff I wanna to do:

photography
crochet/knit
youtube
art
sing
play/learn guitar
write fiction
write nonfiction
read
make dubstep music

Stuff I hafta do:

work
pay bills
clean the house
go grocery shopping
spend time with my family
go to church
cook
take care of the pets

How many days in a week? 7.

Monday - guitar, crochet/knit
Tuesday - write fiction
Wednesday - make dubstep music
Thursday - read, photography
Friday - write nonfiction, art
Saturday - sing, youtube,
Sunday - grocery, church, family time

Okay. Apparently there aren't enough days in the week to incorporate everything that I want to do. Maybe I need to spread it out over like, a month? Like, every other week? Stuff like that?

Or maybe I need to focus on only a few things right now? What do I want to focus on RIGHT NOW?

Youtube
Write fiction/nonfiction
Sing
Make dubstep music

frustration

I am so incredibly, very, extremely, truly, utterly, everything-ly frustrated. Like I want to scream at the top of my lungs from the bottom of my gut and shout and yell and pound something frustrated. The type of frustrated where I want to get on my hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor till it shines and squeaks just to see some results and do something productive.

And I don't even know why.

But I do.

I want to cry. I hate this. I hate feeling like I'm being thwarted every step of the way. Is that the only way to overcome obstacles? To accomplish anything in life? Does there have to be a roadblock at every turn and corner? WHY?

And when I get frustrated, when I feel like this, then it's so much harder for me to buckle down and do what needs to be done. It's like I can't think clearly. I can't make myself pick up the pen or the pencil or the book or the...anything. I zone out and go on YouTube and watch other people's success.

I HATE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I really, really, really want to cry.

I have all this nervous, frustrated energy inside me. I can literally feel it. It's in my arms and my chest, mainly. Like if I don't DO something, I'm going to explode. I've always been like that. When I get frustrated I need an outlet, but I've never had one. Okay, not true. There was that year in high school that I played volleyball.

But all the other years of my life, there hasn't been any form of a physical outlet for my stress. My parents always said "don't strike out," "pray about it," et cetera. But what about when you feel like you're going to combust if you don't MOVE? What do you do then? What do you do when the energy and the urge to run and punch and kick is so intense that it literally paralyzes you?

I'm f*cking trapped. Really. I'm somehow trapped. It's like I'm in a rut and can't get out. I keep pulling myself up bit by bit but then someone steps on my hand and kicks me back in.

GOD.

I'm so FRUSTRATED.

What I want.

I'll be everything/that I wanna be/I am confidence in insecurity/I am a voice yet waiting to be heard/I'll shoot the shot - BANG - that you hear 'round the world/I'm a one girl revolution!

My mantra this year.

So this is what I'm doing with my life. I'm a science writer, who loves music, and youtube, and geeky things, and cats. And bunnies. But I digress.

Here's the plan:

The Crew:
Music/Makeup: Khrys Denise
Cinematography/Special Effects: Calvin W.
Dance/Choreography: Hassaan P. (ps. contact John M. and ask for a feature)

Collab goals:
Pentatonix
David So Comedy
ASAP Science
Lindsey Stirling
Felipe (Whitney's husband)
Doddleoddle


This will grow and change as I learn and go on, but for now, there's my starter list.

God Rocks.