Instead of Going to Bed...

... I'm going to tell you about my life.

For the past four days I've been actively writing. Yesterday I felt like I lost the ability to blink. Doing a little better today. I only wrote for half the day, and cut down to three cups of coffee (instead of four and two cans of Diet Pepsi). I may, repeat may, post a bit of what I'm working on at a later date. I'm also "officially" looking for a job. Part-time. I'm 100% sure full-time work will be a bad idea at this time. However! I should be able to handle part-time successfully. I don't want retail. If any of you were about to suggest that, just let the idea float on by. I'll even allow you to wave at it. I hate working on holidays. I like to spend those occasions with my loving (albeit LOUD) family. Retail sees that as some sort of taboo behavior. You know what job I want? Pam's. She works as a receptionist for Dunder Mifflin. I want her job.

... I'm going to yammer on and on about Doctor Who.

It's just the best freaking show to ever be thought of. Ever. I would give my life to have the Doctor grab me by the hand and say "run!" Although all that running would probably kill me. Therefore, flitting away with a mysterious time travelling, know it all, alien actually would cost me my life. Hmm... Nope, still don't care. It'd be worth it.

... I'm going to complain.

I feel I have a little bit of a right to rant about my social life. Only because I really have been trying to gain a better one; or one AT ALL rather. Any who, I'm going to my weekly group, I went to a real live party for Halloween, and if I'm invited to some sort of event or social activity I say "yes" without even thinking about it. And what have I achieved with all of this mediocre work? Zip and zilch. Lame. I'm bumming myself out. You've heard enough of this, anyway.

... I'm going to review some books!

I've finished the Vampire Lestat awhile ago. Did I tell you how gorgeous that novel was?! If so, you're going to hear it again. My fellow readers, the story is not only beautiful in itself, but beautifully told. I can't put it away on the bookshelf because I just want to look at it, and remember the good times. I'm also in the middle of Alexandre Dumas' The Three Musketeers. I am so pleasantly surprised by the personality within the writing. It's actually pretty funny. I catch myself chuckling with D'Artagnan on his gentlemanly adventures. It's glorious!

I... guess that's it. Peace out bloggers!

Punkins!

We carved 'em!

I decided it's time for a happy post. This blog has been a bit dismal lately. So, we're going to talk about Halloween and stuff!

The above photo is after we'd all finished carving our masterpieces. Aren't they beautiful?! Yes. Yes they are.

Aly is making a pig face in honor of her "horned hog" punkin. Uncle Scotty is saying something to me, so neither he nor I were ready for the photo. Needless to day, this picture cracks me up.

Here are our punkins, in all their glory, on the front porch. Being all happy. Trick or treat!

I was so excited to carve a pirate punkin. He's perfect!

I'm a proud punkin mamma.

See! We go together! I make an excellent pirate. It's a match made in Halloween heaven!

We had tons of fun carving our punkins. There were punkin innards EVERYWHERE. It was perfectly disgusting. So much freaking fun.

This year I'll be dressing up as Trinity (from The Matrix). I'm pretty excited. I'm predicting I'll look quite bad ass. There will be trick or treating. Oh... There WILL be trick or treating. People are obligated to give me free candy. I will be collecting.

Happy Halloweeeeeeeeeeen!

Brooding in the Basement

I feel like that's all I do. Brood.

Brood: to dwell on a subject or to meditate with morbid persistence

I sit downstairs in my dungeon and get all moody about events, or something someone says, or where my life is. It's disgusting. Here's an example of what I'm currently brooding over:

8:53 PM

"Kim has to take me to the store later, I'm out of cigarettes"

No. No, she doesn't HAVE to take you. You could ask her if she will take you. You could mention it to her earlier in the day, so she can doesn't get comfy and cozy and settled in for the night. You could walk the entire block and a half to fetch your flaming cancer sticks, yourself. Piss off.

Here is where the "embrace the crazy" comes to play. I plan things. The first thing I do when I wake up, before I even get out of bed, is open my eyes and think "Today I have planned A, B, and C". It really throws me off to have some sort of event tossed at me. I'm not saying this causes a freak out. I'm only illustrating that I don't like it. I need time to process things. I need to determine how I feel about what will be happening (I like this, I don't like this, I'm scared of this, I'm excited for this, you get the idea). I hate when things are just sprung on me. Ask anyone, I don't like surprises. Not one tiny little bit. Maybe, surprises in the mail are alright, but even that's pushing it. Surprises, whether intense or trivial, throw me into an internal temper tantrum. It's a fear/anger response. As if all of a sudden, I'm 100% unprepared and in the dark.

"Kim has to take me to the store later, I'm out of cigarettes" leads me to feelings of:

• Fear- I don't like driving at night. Um, I really don't like driving AT ALL, but it's a "part of life" I have accepted. I try very hard to do it well, so to avoid the terrifying circumstance of a car accident. I've been in two serious ones, it's a valid fear.
• Disorder- I feel almost completely out of control. All of a sudden my night of blogging on Tumblr, television watching, and reading has turned into chaos. It, indeed, isn't chaos, but it feels like it. I no longer have control of my environment.
• Fear again- disorder leads to chaos, chaos leads to getting overwhelmed, being overwhelmed leads to panic. Panic = fear. Panic is bad. Panic is, quite often, the cause of many of my "harmful behaviors", which is another topic for another day.
• Anger- I feel like I'm being taken advantage of. What gives you the right to demand I take you places? I owe you NOTHING. I am under no obligation to you whatsoever. You will NOT find yourself taking advantage of me. I don't let anyone do that to me. Think you're different? Try me.

It's a matter of principal. But... I also feel like I can't say anything about it. Most of the family doesn't understand the inter workings of my fortress of a mind. Therefore, I look like the bitch of the century who thinks herself too good to help out someone who needs our unconditional support, no questions asked. Gah!

Remind me to add frustrated to the list up there.

On an unrelated topic: I would like to say hello to all of the random, delightful, people from around the globe who stop by this little bitty blog. Hello! You can't see me waving, but I am. Promise. I hope you all enjoy my rantings of me being a crazy person. A single, kind of lonely sometimes, adorable crazy girl. With no boyfriend. I'm talking to the few of you from Europe and other places. Who wants an American wife?! Just kidding...

Sort of.

Lemons, Losing, Love and Halloween (Which Doesn't Begin with the Letter L, Sorry)

Just a few things to report...

A. Today I cleaned. And cleaned, and cleaned, and cleaned. My lair is so freaking lemon-y fresh, it's like that part in Soarin' Over California when you fly into the orange grove. But... with lemons.

Deux. My football team gained a new player (whom I'm not so sure I like) then lost tonight. Unless my cousin Andrea is asking you, then you tell her they won. Got that? Won.

3. I have fallen in love with a few new things. Them being:

• The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice
• The television program Torchwood
• Showering at night instead of in the morning
• Cinnamon raisin bagels
• My new* cedar chest
• Driving to the musical number Ride of the Valkyries
• The sweater Chewey wears when he's cold

IV. My blog has been Halloween-ified! It makes me really happy. Halloween is one of my favorite things, not to mention it's my "religious" holiday. I'm definitely looking forward to some Samhain festivities.

fin

*not so much new, and more like have had it for a really long time and have only now had the means, and space, to put it together and enjoy it

I'd Like to Think I'm Memorable.

I'm not hoping to turn this blog into the chronicles of my finding "love". However, I would just like to take a small moment and express my frustrations with said subject matter.

These are the following reasons I'm unforgettable:

1. I make all kinds of sound effects as I move about
2. I try my damnedest to avoid sidewalk lines
3. I strive to improve my everyday vocabulary
4. My facial expressions are not only animated, but unstoppable
5. It's disgusting how I can find the silver lining in EVERYTHING
6. I don't have the ability to resist a good (or completely terrible) pun

I could go on. The point I'm trying to make is I'm not boring nor ordinary. Why do I feel the need to state the obvious? Because, on more than one occasion, I've been "forgotten" about. A couple months ago a certain dude, answered the door saying "Oh, I forgot you were coming over". I had called him an hour and a half earlier. AN HOUR AND A HALF. What?!

This last weekend I was to meet a chap for some football watching. "I'll let you know what time" he told me. So, what did I do? I waited. And waited. And... waited. The next day (after I asked him about it) he tells me he decided not to go; clearly forgetting to inform me. Now, I'm not going to say I sat at home most of the day, all done up and cute looking in my perfectly selected football outfit. Well, I'm not going to say that out loud.

Any who, I just want to say: I'm annoyed. This is ridiculous. Completely absurd.

That is all.

Embrace the Crazy

That's what I've decided to do. Embrace it. Love it. Be it. I feel like my life and future will be a whole lot less complicated. Not necessarily easier, just a little more "figured out".

What does this mean, you ask? Let me explain.

I'm crazy. Full blown, defined and diagnosed, crazy. Some people don't know that. Many people don't know that. Some don't know that I've been seeing a counselor since I was 19. Others don't know I've been hospitalized on more than one occasion. It's not a big deal. And, it's not that I don't like to talk about it. I just tend to not bring it up. I'm not ashamed, nor sad about it. At this point in my life, I'm rather indifferent about it. It's a part of me, and it's shaped me into the person I am today. Now, that being said, I would like to clarify that I am not sociopathic, homicidal, nor has it made me any sort of genius or female Rain Man. I have gained a little (or a crap load) of wisdom, though. I see life differently than most. My priorities can seem a little "off". The speed at which my brain thinks can be breathtaking, literally. Every once in a while it goes into overdrive and problems result; for the most part, though, I can blend in with others and have a semi "normal" existence.

Which brings me to my new philosophy. No longer do I wish to "blend in" as previously stated. Please don't confuse me with saying I want to stand out for attention, or become some sort of anti-social creature. I'm only stating that I'm very tired of thinking about everything twice, or filtering. It's as if I have a thought, then I have to re-think it to determine how to act "out loud". Oh dear, that makes no sense. Let me think... (do you see part of my problem?!) Alright, someone says something, or something happens, (the cause) and I react (the effect). Pretty normal, yes? Only, it doesn't stop there. There's more than one reaction. It's like cause, react, react, react. First I have my initial, instinctive reaction. It's internal, and the most natural thing for me to think or feel. Then, I have a more conscious, "what should I think" reaction to the cause. What's a normal thought to have in this situation? How am I supposed to feel in an event like this? Lastly, I have an actual "out loud" reaction. Not always verbal; sometimes it's a facial expression, or a random grunt or giggle. It's the effect that other people see or hear. The... social reaction, if you will.

Can you understand how one can get very weary doing all this reacting? It's exhausting to be doing all this thinking. Why can't I just think what I think? I don't feel like my original thoughts are "wrong", I just feel they'd be "unaccepted". As if people will judge me, or no longer "like me".

This is why my social life has taken such a dive. It's too much. I care too much what all of these people are thinking of me. It's gotten so bad, that I've developed an extremely heightened sense of self awareness. When I walk into a room of people, I rapidly plan where and how to sit down. What to do with my hands. How to adjust my clothes. How I'm going to laugh when there's a joke. Where my vocal inflection is going to be when I ask about other's lives. All of it. Can you see why my brain is worn out? I have little ability to be my natural self.

Any who, I've had enough of it. I'm going to re-train my mind to have only one effect per cause. If this is how I feel about something, this is how I feel. The end. I need to quit with the second guessing, and re-thinking. Don't plan out what I want others to see me as. Just be. If other's are confused by my behavior or reasoning, so be it. I'll be more than happy to explain why I think what I think, or why I see what I see. Because that's me... and I'm not ashamed. I am who I am.

The Girl with Writer's Block

A short story written by yours truly. This little ditty placed at the Brigham City Peach Days literary contest. Woot woot.

Once there was a girl. She liked to write things. Stories, poems, and thoughts, among other things. She had medium, dark brown hair, and eyes to match. She was neither tall, nor short, and wore jeans, with tee shirts, and converse tennis shoes. So, in other words, generic.

The day this generic girl found herself staring blankly at her computer screen, was a special day. She was unaware, but it was, indeed, special. She was suffering through a nasty bought of writer's block. Not having suffered from it often, the girl stood up, and started pacing the room. Back and forth she went, but to no avail. She sighed, and started making her bed. Then, she picked things up off the floor. Clearly procrastinating, the girl went on with other meaningless chores. After walking the dog, feeding the cats, vacuuming, and organizing her fashion magazines, the girl realized she had yet to find inspiration. She took a deep breath, and decided on a nap. Laying on her freshly made bed, she stared at her boring, colorless ceiling. Drop... Drop... Went the few raindrops outside her window. Drop... Drop... They grew quieter. Drop..... Drop...... Drop....... THUNK.

"Thunk?" she thought to herself. Sitting up she gazed over to her window. Something was slowly, sliding down the screen. She jumped off the bed and ran to the window. It was a tiny person. A tiny person, about half the height of a Barbie doll, was definitely sliding down her window screen. What did she do...? Run outside to catch it? No. That's quite a fall for such a small thing. And, what if she missed? Open the window? Yes. Open the window, and pop out the screen.

"Hold on... I'm going to open the window" she told the creature, hoping it could understand her. Then, she carefully slid the window up. The little person watched, warily, as the girl ran for her car keys. With the keys, punctured the screen and proceeded to make a hole. Once it was big enough, the girl reached her hand through the opening, and stretched it out flat, near her tiny guest. "Come on, now. I've got you" she told it.

Inspecting her hand for only a moment, the person, cautiously, stepped one foot, then the other, onto the girl's outstretched palm. Then, letting go of the window screen, it curled itself into a ball and the girl pulled it to safety.

The girl walked over to her night stand, opened the drawer, and pulled out a white hankie. She placed it over the shivering body of her new "friend", and, for the first time, noticed it had wings. Sitting back on the bed she asked "Who are you...?" still hoping it understood her language.

"I..." he started, standing up on her hand "am Dandelion Peachmeade" he finished, brushing off his green breeches and orange vest. Then, wrapping himself up in the hankie, added "you may call me Dandy, although I'm not one." And, with a nod of his head he sat down cross legged on her palm.

"Alright. Why... Are you here?" the girl questioned, slowly.

"Why not?" Dandy answered, not taking his eyes away from hers.

"It's just not common... Faeries out in the open like this" she told him.

"So?" he said, flatly.

Remembering faeries are not the easiest to deal with, the girl tried again. "What, exactly, are you doing here?"

"The storm soaked my wings. Lost a bit of control. The wind blew me onto your window."

"Oh-"

"Yep. Then I saw you had cats. AND, your shoes were facing the bed. So I decided this was a good a place as any to try for shelter" he cut in.

"I see... Well, is there anything I can get you? Food, or something?" she offered. She figured this was a prime opportunity for writing inspiration.

"Got any honey?" Dandy asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I don't. I used to leave it out, in case a faery wanted or needed it. But, I haven't done that in quite sometime... Would you like some tea, maybe...?"

"Hmm... Shouldn't have stopped that. Nobody leaves honey for us anymore" then, he stood up flapped his wings, and started wondering around the girl's room. While flying from shelf to shelf, smelling candles, inspecting sea shells, and poking stuffed animals he added "close your window, hm?"

"Right, sorry" she trotted across the room, and slid the window shut.

"Silly book. Silly book. This one's closer, but still ridiculous. Oh! That guy hasn't a clue!" Dandy said as he rifled through her collection of books.

The girl smiled. She found having a faery as a guest most delightful.

"Yes" Dandy said to her.

"Yes? Yes what?" she asked

"Tea, girl! You asked if I wanted tea!"

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I'll go make some..." and she turned to leave the room.

"Nope! Never mind. Don't want to wait" his voice echoed from her jar of loose change.

"I'm sorry..." she said.

"Stop saying that. That's all you say. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry" Dandy chastised her from atop her bookshelf.

The girl opened her mouth to apologize, again, but closed it quickly. Realizing that she was about to say "sorry" once again. She turned around and sat back down on her bed. Looking over to Dandy she asked "Where do you come from?"

"Not a place you know of" he answered, still sitting at the top of her bookshelf. His small eyes burrowing into hers.

"I see..." she replied, keeping his gaze.

He lingered for a moment, then flitted off to the picture frames on her wall. "Who's that?" he asked of the lowest picture.

"My mom" she answered.

Flying up to the next photo he said "and that?"

"That's my sister and I"

"What about that one?" he asked when he reached the top frame.

"That's my grandma"

"Lot's of family. Who's picture is that on the shelf?" he continued, flying over to it.

"Well, the one on the bookshelf is my best friend. And the one on that higher self" she said pointing across the room "is my Godson... What about your family...?" she asked.

"What about them?"

"Where are they?" she wondered.

"Home" he said.

"Is that far?"

"Far from where?" he asked as he played with his reflection in her mirror.

"Far from here" she giggled.

"For you" Dandy answered. Then, he flew over to the bed, and sat down next to her.

The girl smiled at him.

"I like you" he told her.

"You do...?" she asked, confused.

"Yes... I do."

"May I ask why?" she inquired.

"You just did" he replied blankly, staring at her once again.

"Why do you like me, Dandy?" she asked again.

"Because you read faery books, and you have cats who watch us. And your shoes face your bed, so I'm not unwelcome. And..." he looked away "you used to leave honey out for me..."

"For you...?

"You didn't live here then, though. You lived in a different place. It took me a long time to find you. And, now I have, but there's no honey. Did you not want me to find you?" he asked, sadly.

"Of coarse not! I did not know you liked the honey. I didn't think anyone even knew I left it out. I'm so sorry!" she told him. Then she scooped him up and drew him close to her face, and added "I'm so glad you found me."

"Me too" Dandy said. "Will you put the honey back out?"

"I'll go and get some first thing tomorrow" she replied.

"And, will you keep writing stories?" he asked.

She paused. "Of coarse. and you know what, Dandy? I've got an excellent idea for a new story."

"Not yet. I like the nap idea better" he stated. Flying over to one of the pillows on the bed he said "Where's that hankie?"

The girl picked up the white hankie, covered her friend with it, then snuggled down next to him. She watched Dandy fall asleep. He was so little, breathing so steadily. Then, within a few moments, she herself, had dozed off.

Opening her eyes, the girl smiled. It took her a moment to realize the white hankie was gone. And... So was Dandy. She looked around the bed, and his hankie was no where to be found. She turned to her night stand, opened the drawer, and there it was. Neatly folded just as it always was, with the other hankies. She got up, and walked to the window. There was no hole in the screen. In fact, there was no sign of Dandelion Peachmeade anywhere.

Very disheartened, the girl walked across the room. On her way out the door, she passed her blank screened computer. She stopped. Turning back, she looked again, at the screen:

“don't forget the honey

love dandy”