Things are coming along. Finally found a job a week ago today and since then, the mood swings have calmed down a bit. I got a phone call in the morning that I had the job, but wasn’t able to get really excited about it until later that day because I wasn’t confident in conquering the plastic cup they test your urine in. Luckily, I had probably drank enough water by then to quench the thirst of an entire third world country, so the test of course was negative. The nice lady who collected the cup didn’t even question the fact it looked like I had just ran tap water into it. I’ve heard a few times that your urine is always supposed to look like this, but I’m not so sure about that. Not that I have a color preference, but I do prefer to not have to pee every 15 minutes or so, especially with the chance of being held up in an epic traffic jam (which of course happened on my way to the building).. But enough about urine.

The job is tolerable. Being as it’s only my second week, I’m still  in the wierd transition stage where I am trying to feel people out to see how much of “myself” I can really be without them looking at me with puzzled faces. My boss is a rather strange lass who I can’t quite figure out. The interview with her appropiately matched this same description and come to think of it, I’m probably using the word “interview” very loosely as it was mostly comprised of about an hour of her complaining about her job and random frustrations of the company and perhaps about 2 actual “questions” that seemed completely unrelated to the hiring decision. The job itself is very different than any I have had previously and this is because I’m required to actually work for the 8 hours I am there.  This of course is most inconvenient when I was accustomed to such a laid back atmosphere, but I suppose the days do seem a little shorter (at least for now).

In other news, I plan on finally moving in a couple of weeks which I’m sure my boyfriend is a little relieved about as I’ve been living in his room for the past month or so. I miss the simple luxuries of having a place. At this point, I am not even concerned with having my own place, but it will be nice to at least have a room to call my own (even if it’s just on loan).

I’ve been slacking on the writing lately and I suppose this is only due to lack of motivation. I tend to want to write something “groundbreaking” but this of course has yet to happen. I’ll come up with something someday though, perhaps a “diamond in the rough”.  I’ve never so much as owned a diamond yet, so maybe I’m in over my head on composing such a masterpiece. Maybe I’ll settle for some “cubic zirconia” in the rough instead.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of free time to think and at times this is quite overwhelming and draining on the ol’ soul. Other times, I think this is just what I need. I look around me and see that everyone is doing something and I feel like I’m doing basically nothing to better myself or my life. I’ve had an especially hard time recently answering the most simple questions about myself and my goals. Perhaps that is because I haven’t set any and for that I am truly kicking myself.

I suppose I have sort of floated by on my general common sense and street smarts throughout the course of my life and I am starting to see that will only get me so far. And now I’m a bit overwhelmed. I don’t know where to start. Especially in my current situation, which is jobless, homeless and living week to week just scraping by, and happy to pay what bills I still have. I keep telling myself I will figure this out one day. I will put it off until a point where I feel otherwise “stable” but I’m starting to wonder if I have it all wrong. I no longer want to procrastinate. I feel like I’m procrastinating my own potential at this point and thats all I seem to dwell on these days. It’s the reason I get bummed out. It’s the reason I take things personally. It’s the reason for pretty much any dis-satisfaction with myself or my lack of accomplishments and it’s starting to weigh pretty heavy. But again..the trouble is I need a starting point. And I can’t figure one out.

I have trouble evaluating myself and what my talents are or could be. What I might enjoy doing. I get bored easily and this is a huge downfall. I mean, I have the basics I suppose. I enjoy writing (obviously). I enjoy art (though do not consider myself all that talented at it). I enjoy music. I enjoy being busy. I’m a quick learner. I just need some direction I guess. For some unexplained reason, this keeps tripping me up and I just seem to give up altogether. I think it’s time for a change.

I no longer want to compare myself to others, nor my accomplishments or lack of. I am still reasonably young, but I am also running more and more out of time to do something about this with every day that passes. I thought about going back to school tonight. I researched it and got immediately discouraged. The difference this time is I think I’ll give it a go. I am making it much harder than it is and I do this often. My biggest obstacle is myself.

I still hold onto my desire for the simple things in life. Love, happiness, someday a family, the “classics”… I just get the feeling I won’t get any of these things if I can’t first be proud of myself for something. I’ve spent 24 and a half years slacking off and dismissing my own abilities and I’m seeing this now clearer than ever. It’s equally a bummer and an inspiration. I’m trying hard lately to focus on the second of the two.

One thing I have found in my current relationship is it’s really nice to be with someone who shares my interest and taste in music. However, it has recently occurred to me that we appreciate it for entirely different reasons. This intrigues me even more since our tastes are very similar in most regards. I think it is interesting how people can end up loving the same things, but got there on their own unique path. I suppose music is only a very tiny example in the big scheme of things, but nevertheless interesting.

For instance, I have always related to music in some regard. I always had an uncanny ability to listen to a song, interpret it’s lyrics, and apply it to my own feelings or situation. This may be the main reason I have such a passion for music in general. I love the way a song can so brilliantly capture a feeling through a lyric you wouldn’t have dreamed up in a million years. I even love the ones I cannot necessarily relate to because some people can write in a way that can make you feel exactly what they are trying to convey,  and to me, that is an amazing gift. I have also come to the conclusion this may be why I enjoy writing so much. Maybe not so much in the lyrical sense, but in general. I hope to someday have that effect on someone. I think that is the ultimate for any sort of artist. To feel related to. To be understood on some other level than merely the surface of things.

I was a very angsty sort of teen that spent hours upon hours by myself in my room. Sometimes I was depressed. S0metimes I was happy.  Sometimes I was creative. Sometimes I was high out of my mind. Whatever the situation, there was always a song to suit the occasion. I would steal my favorite lines and scribble them on the covers of my various journals, books, etc. I even had a bible I had jotted down a line from Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” on the inside cover. (”Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?”)..I thought even Jesus could appreciate such a sentiment. My mom said it was blasphemy. But she couldn’t even name the song, so of course her opinion wasn’t of much value to me.

I grew up somewhere along the way and would appreciate different tunes for more and more reasons every day. Some of them for relatable reasons. Some of them for pure therapeutic reasons. Some of them for nothing more than the simple appreciation of awesome talent. I sent my dad entire songs, written out in letters while he was in jail. I figured that maybe someone else could inspire him more so than I even could. An outside perspective, so to speak. He seemed to appreciate this. In any case, lyrics can be quite poetic, even without the melody to back them up.

I realize now that perhaps everyone appreciates music (or other art for that matter) for their own reasons, and that maybe my reason isn’t quite unique, but also not universal. But music most certainly is universal and always will be. It’s gotten me through some of the roughest times in my life and enhanced some of the best. I never did take any anti-depressants or other assorted meds, but i have an entire pharmacy’s worth of albums that are just what the Dr. ordered. No warnings or side effects either..unless you count the ‘parental advisory’s’.

Vacated the local bar in Marble Falls tonight and realized quickly and without question why I wanted to leave this town. I met an old friend and played catch up as much as the bar setting would allow and I will say that part of the evening bared no regret. I took a look around a few times and noticed various types of drunk people, all of which were equally annoying and invading. I don’t understand why any woman in her right mind would ever think skin tight jeans that accented her muffin top and an obviously fake Texas Longhorn diamand “bling” like pendant on her chest would be appropiate “going out” attire. While I was contemplating this, a random drunk fellow sneaks up from behind and proceeds to drool unabashedly on my cheek while telling me if I had a boyfriend, he is a lucky man. What a fucking gentleman. As if this wasn’t bad enough, he then began to basically sexually assault the friend I was there with but she is too nice for her own good and just let him grope her like a zoo animal.. I didn’t intervene only because I figure she can fend for herself and I didn’t feel the need to be any more blunt with the guy than I already was. But this was only a minor annoyance of the evening.

As expected, I ran into some other familiar faces during the duration of the night, and found out 2 friends of mine that are married splti up and I talked awhile with one of them. Break ups are always relatable when you’ve been through one and I think she appreciated that. A little more time passes, and I run into the roommate of my “ex” best friend who just so happened to leave me a few messages the other night regarding some random drama, which incidentally, is the only sort of situation I ever hear from her on anymore. He proceeds to tell me she is on crystal meth (again) and is completely out of control, which of course I sort of knew already, but hearing direct confirmation bummed me out nonetheless. I told him to give her a message for me to which he humbly obliged but I’m not so sure it will get through to her. The funny thing is she still considers me her “best” friend after all of this, yet I don’t think I could pick her out of a personality line-up if I tried. I told him to tell her as long as she is on drugs, I’m not her friend and that she needs to get help. I hope most sincerely she hears the message and maybe just MAYBE she will listen. But it’s a long shot.

Now I’m back under a sane roof and it’s past my bedtime. Tomorrow I am back to Austin and glad about it. This town is sufficating. It’s no longer the comfortable “nest” i resided in for so long. It’s not my home. And after some much needed reflection and thought, I have decided this is most definitely a good thing. Good riddance past. Hello future. It’s nice to meet you finally.

To Whom It May Concern,

I am the strangest person you will ever know. I will confuse you. I am defensive to a fault. I am humble, yet sometimes unwilling to take responsibility for my own mistakes or missed oppurtunities. I am more insecure than you will ever realize and I work hard to not show this. I have messed up way beyond your comprehension.  I feel equally wise and stupid for mistakes I have made in the past. I am a fast learner, but I don’t retain much. I remember things that would blow your mind. I think about you way more often than you can possibly be thinking about me.  I think of myself only when forced, and even then it feels selfish even though logic tells me it isn’t. I have failed but am not a failure. I’ve said I love you without meaning it but didn’t know it at the time. I am much more clever than you think. I have secrets and I plan on keeping them.  I hold things in, even though I try not to. I hate confrontation and try like hell to avoid it. I can over analyze a sentence into an entire string of phrases you never meant to say. I take things personally, especially when i’m instructed not to.  I’m sensitive but strong. I enjoy a good cry now and again. I really do care what you think of me. I am impossibly random. I am not yet sure of my purpose in life. I will always consider myself a realist rather than a pessimist. I can be clingy. I can be distant.  I am complicated but not high maintenence. I love sex but only with one person. I have trouble communicating my feelings to others. I use humor as a sheild and often laugh at things that really aren’t funny. I am cocky only in thes sense that I think I have good taste in certain things. I am constantly comparing myself with others while at the same time dishing out advice to others to avoid this exact thing. I am a total weirdo and have trouble relating to most of the human race. Still like me? Check yes or no.

Sincerely,

me

My old therapist used to say “we are human beings, not human doings.”  I like that concept.

I felt very unaccomplished today in certain aspects and I’m not sure if I should blame my actions or my own self perception. I’m still on the hunt for a job to my liking and so far, nothing has really panned out. In the meantime, I’m still doing the waiting gig and it is helping me keep financially afloat, but it’s also getting somewhat old after only a couple of weeks. It seems my boyfriend always has the questions I have the most trouble answering at this particular juncture of my life and that is equally challenging and frustrating. I’ve never been particularly “pushed” in my life to do my best, or to not settle for the mediocre. Naturally, now that someone gives enough of a shit to do this, I become defensive and negative towards the suggestions, which is especially odd since I know the intent is good.  I suppose I’m just not used to such a thing and I tend to take it as some sort of judgment. But perhaps I am only judging myself for not thinking of these things before.

Then there is the other hand. The one I rely on and have learned to trust over the course of my adult life. The one that says these things aren’t ultimately important to my happiness. The one that settles and becomes content with it’s surroundings while learning to adapt to new (though not necessarily chosen) circumstances.  And of course, the questions. The ever present, ever evolving questions.. Am I really capable of doing something new? Am I up to the challenge?  When it’s all said and done, will it really matter what I did for a paycheck?  Will it matter to me?  Should it matter?

I am admittedly simple minded, perhaps to a fault. But is it such a bad thing to want nothing more than the simplicity of being happy out of life?  I’ve never related such a feeling with a job. Perhaps that is because I’ve never really had a job that truly satisfied me. Perhaps not though. I suppose all I really want is to pay my bills comfortably, enjoy my weekends of no work, have a nice glass of wine now and again, and be able to laugh my troubles away at the drop of a hat. Of course, someone to share these things with is just an added bonus. If I can do all of these things, then perhaps the rest will just naturally follow. The “rest” meaning that “dream” I have not yet chased or perhaps even dreamed up yet. Is this settling? Or just being?