The point?

I was sitting in my doc's office, killing time while a personal call was being wrapped up. I switched crossing my legs,and noticed my jean hem was flipped. The secretary told me to go in, before I could tame the errant denim.
While Doc perused my file, checking notes and asking basic questions, I pulled my leg up to play with the hem. Thinking I was curling up, Doc tried to re-open communication.
"Considered going to a dermatologist? The video you mentioned a friend shared seems to be important. It's the first thing that came to mind when I asked if you'd seen anything interesting."
"Perhaps, I seem to be on a health kick lately."
"Along with adventurous streak... new scar? Your ankle."
"Yeah... poison ivy. I'm really sensative to it. To avoid it spreading, it needed to be eraticated."
"So you chose a scar over maybe a week of discomfort?"
"I chose a scar over a month of spreading itchiness. I take a while to heal. I'm not a masochist."
We talked of other scars, stumbles, stories and hopeful adventures. Before I left, Doc asked what part of town would I want to live in. Near businesses like I am now, a quiet cul de sac or gated community,all shiney and new?
"Ah, Doc... I want a spot in the country, ivy be damned. Maybe in that, I am a masochist."
Doc closed my file, smiling.
"Guess that house must be worth the sting."
Now I just have to find it. Talk about dreaming big... I hate being in debt... But I dislike feeling like I'm tossing money away more.

Some lessons never learned

I want to learn, but don't think grad school is in my cards.
I'm learning to let go of some hopes. Like having my place be the one that's rarely quiet, usually home to anyone bored for a few hours. I figured I could create or re-create missed moments or play them out the way I wanted. I dreamed of happy parties, friends and family, chatter and activity. So I work my schedule, leaving large blocks to fill with people; much like Seniors in high school barely taking any classes to just hang with friends during school hours.
Time to grow up... realize that the days that made me happy cannot be copied or re-created.
Some knowledge hurts to know, some is only gleaned over and never fully understood, some changes you, other heals you... All I can do is forgive myself for mistakes made, hope to not repeat them and learn. The only things that I can influence cannot depend on anyone else. A few may choose to watch me on my way, but my lessons are my own. I've been selective in the people that can pause me, ask me of many things, and change my perspectives.
Yet some lessons remain out of grasp, with no equitable compromise or substitution. I cannot let go of the wish to fill my time with happy voices, even if I've yet to meet their sound. But I can stop wishing to demand your time, even if I don't scream it, but whisper.
So now my job search will be with fewer borders, but must help me achieve some dreams.
I want that house I dream of, the dog and gardens. Things, I know... but the few aspects I can create. So when visits are made, I can offer more than one couch; entertainment not dependent on cable and space for you and loves to steal away to. If my fortune changes, I'll greet what comes. But wishing should be reserved for the more innocent... some dreams never come true.

sorry for the delay

Hi luvs. I've been a bit busy, but more so dealing with lots of stuff. We've all got baggage, and mine (recently) got a bit heavy. I partly did it to myself, and had or having a run of bad luck. I wake each day hoping for things to go my way, but know that can't be the case always. Tis just been a while... but oh well.
So you already know I cried hard for the 1st time since putting my ex behind me. You know it WAS NOT because of feelings for him, but anger at myself for not making the sweeping changes I desire in my life. And that I was utterly Pissed Off that someone I consider a deficient human being should not be allowed to smile. Especially when I have trouble remembering when exactly I had a moment of bliss. But that's just my vanity showing; that I consider myself a good person, choosing to be incapable of the atrocities a lot of "sweet people" can do. I'm not the judge and jury, but secretly wish I could be executioner, to some that handed in their nice cards a long time ago (if they ever actually had one). I'm exhausted that overgrown car salesmen (ie, Ex), waltz through life, while I struggle with the steps.
The timing was rough, but when it not?
I had started to open up, to hope for what I thought were impossible dreams. I shared them... and in each path I tried to walk, got kicked in the stomach. I know that progress has been made... but dammit... I'm greedy now. I see things going good & bad...and wish for either! I'm tired of feeling behind. I know it's not a race... but I can do this... I want in to the game. I've been an adult since I was 12... I have the responsible part down... where's the fun shit?
"Come to the darkside...we have cookies"... Sorry..I'll stick with this pile of crap.
So as I try to wade through the disrupted images in my head, placing them back and tossing the ones I want to delete, I'll try to remember to post.
Been missing you... wish we weren't all stressed. Life's running quick for all of ya... the quiet is driving me natty.

It'll be ok

Febtober and I were exhausted after class one night. He more so than I. He had skipped the last part of a class to talk to a girl he really liked, and he had eaten something he shouldn't have. It caused him to miss most of our class. We all suspect he has gastric issues, or perhaps the stress of really liking this girl that only seemed to want to play mind games with him was getting to him. Anyways, family (and now you), knows that the boy takes forever to get the job done, especially if he is not feeling well. I covered for him in class, and grabbed his gear when we were released. About five minutes after we got out, I got his text: "I am sooo sorry", to which I replied: "When ur done, @ benches unless get cold, then car". I kept watch over our stuff for the next 25 minutes, enjoying the night air. He came out, running full force. His echoing gait alarmed me, and I grabbed our stuff, expecting to have to run with over fifty pounds of junk to keep up with him. I did a small bounce, giving him time to run past and I would follow. He screeched to a halt, sweat spraying over  me as he almost fell on top of me.
"You ok?", as I looked up at him.
"Please don't hate me", as his bottom lip quivered and tears welled up. I realized it wasn't only sweat on his cheeks.
"I don't. You feeling better? Worse?"
"I thought you'd left me, that I pissed you off and you left"
"I'm your ride, here... take your stuff... and mine as punishment"
We walked to the car, me making sure my baby brother was ok... and calming him down. That I would never leave him stranded.
He told me about his afternoon, and we talked of how the situation sucked. He reclined the seat back, telling me he just wanted to sleep until we got back to the house. I knew he was still crying, and that it was more the young girl's fault than my own. That him not getting my text was the least of his concerns.
So as he curled away from me, to hide his face in the shadows, I continued to drive. I took a deep breath... then another... and started to sing the lullaby I used to put him to bed when I could still carry him, the same song when storms scared him and he crawled into my bed. It lasted all of 45 seconds.
He rolled over, placed his lion sized paw over my bicep, and said: "Sis, one more time?"
I smiled and began again...

You wanted my reason...

Red has me on another project... She's one of three (non-blood related) people that can do this to me... scare the begeezus out of me. Price I pay for knowing a fantastic lady since grade school. We've spent years creating ourselves, distinct yet eerily similar. She's one of those that I would swear either has a bug in my place or can read my mind... even after I 'ran away' to my current address. Of which I am scrambling to fix. I don't do the things I want to 'up here'. I talk about not feeling at home, it's high time I work on it. And if I flop again, do it again or figure something else out.
So since you are all used to me being random, here we go:
Got rejected.... twice. Not by a guy, by two schools. I think it took me three full weeks to recover, and it still stings. My father said, "I am so disappointed in you", hence what was supposed to be an 'aw schucks, maybe next time' got flipped to a 'I am NOT gonna cry' and spiral into rough weeks fighting the desire to shut down. So that's why I've been moody, not because of the month. To the ones that think I've no longer got a romantic side, I'll remind you I have loads of stuff on love. Some of my faves:
"True love begins when nothing is looked for in return." ~Antoine De Saint-Exupery
"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."~Lao Tzu

"Love is like a friendship caught on fire: In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable."
And my own, "I will love you for as long as you will let me"- the only one of these that I told someone I cared for. He actually asked if I *knew* he was going to break my heart when we split, I told him I had hoped I was wrong.
But I wasn't. Just like I wasn't wrong in other gut/heart feelings. Two of you remembering the comment I made in high school about being the last one down the aisle, if ever? I had a twang of doubt as I mailed out my applications. I actually prayed that night for whatever path I was supposed to take be made a little clearer... and for a swift kick or knock on the head to make sure I didn't miss my turn.
Enter in this project, and a sense of fear. There are secrets I keep, even from myself. But I have to dredge it all up because I am tired of the sense of waiting, even when I make steps forward. I started this blog to open up to the few I gave permission to find it. My whole family keeps horrible secrets from one another, I didn't want to do that to people I care about. But I know some secrets are best kept, hence why I had made the comment I would be here less. Not because there is less of me I want to share, but that I should wait for you to ask sometimes.
Yes, I am a bit jealous I don't have a valentine, but I am not going to go postal. Cut me some slack. I just can't make you happy... I clam up and you think I've gone cold. I sigh and you immediately assume things.
For at least the next 30 days, I have a new project... plus other things on my plate. Deadlines are closing fast, but as always... you need me, I'm there. You desperately need me, and I'll likely show up without my shirt.... again. Lol

Trying to catch up...

Oh, my abs are going to hate me in the morning. I got all the way through my workout video. I skipped an hour of overtime to do it.


I woke up last Saturday sans voice. Coughing and generally feeling bad. A teeny tiny bug turned me into a newt!
A newt?
I got better.
Sorry, horrible Monty Python quote. I'm feeling silly. *Ahem* Anyways, I fell behind in my huge list of things to do:
Research new apartments- map out potentials, rough estimate of taxes, open the scary envelope (from a school I applied to), some shopping, workout video, write something, potential haircut/color, call cousin-set up visit ideas, figure out schedule to allow seeing my gals, let parents know you're alive, study, eat better, check out second jobs, clean. The blues are still to do, lol. I did 50+ hours of work on top of it all.
Since I was couch-ridden, I found out Showtime was offering a free preview. I found a comedy, Zerophilia, and snuggled in. If you get a chance, watch it. The synopsis does not do it justice. I felt like a perv for enjoying it because it's teens (but cute ones!), but felt better because I understood a lot of the underlying angsts. Then I laughed at myself because it's a fake condition, but I wished I had it. Then I'd have a reason for not fitting the norms of my gender, some of my oddness and views on sex.
All week, I have been confusing people at work. Between walking in a "total girl" (makeup, jewelry, heels, tighter clothes), and wearing "my boyfriend's shirt" and jeans (aka, an old shirt that is now too big and gym shoes), people are wondering what the heck I was doing on vacation.
I may be having too much fun messing with their heads.
Now, I have a few more things to add to the list. And I have a movie scene in my head (not from the one above), that I am trying to place. Hopefully the parents have a copy. I thought three weeks off would help clear my head. I'm realizing I have selective memory. It was more profound after reading a story online.
I can write fiction with kernels of truth or inspiration. The author was able to not only capture important details, but harness emotions attached to it after a fair amount of time.
I'm envious. My head can't travel back so distinctly, anything that happens after that moment colors or re-writes some part to where the memory is no longer true or even recognizable. I can recall small bits, but mix up timelines, people, places, etc. I doubt I could tell you what I did on a single day of my vacation and not mix it with another day. To have something so important to actually remember it... makes me want to figure out why that movie scene is in my head. Maybe there's something in that movie that I need to see, to remember something, learn something, do something... or it's just a scene.
But, it has to be lower on the list.
I have a test to study for. The job may not exist anymore, but knowledge is a gift unto itself.
Besides, I should be visiting my cousin in her last trimester... Just in case she starts having pain, I won't freak out.
As one of you put it, it's a shame that I'm a self-rescuing princess. And I am still waiting to collect on kicking your butt at changing a tire!