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.