Catch you all Tuesday when I get back from Rockin' the Peninsula, Part Deux.
...I certainly won't miss all this rain.
Kathleen, don't worry. That yellow slicker is NOT part of my wardrobe. We went on a bird watching expedition yesterday for Lab in the pouring rain and this was ALL my teacher had. I pouted but figured it was better than pneumonia.
Slicker? I don't even know 'er!
I was driving home today when I heard this great new song. I fell in love with it instantly.
It was in my head all day.
And when I sat down at my computer to read some journals (and procrastinate writing a 10 page play) I thought I'd turn my radio on...and that maybe, just maybe, the song would be on.
And it was.
Anna Nalick - Breathe (2 am) Lyrics
Album: Wreck Of The Day
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Lyrics:
no...seriously. check it: http://www.backstreetboys.com/
I haven't been this happy since...last time they were back!
I feel like a schoolgirl again!
no more of this.
the rebuilding of---the creation of---breakthroughs and revelations. it is what it is. a mess. i am. so many times i've tried to feel good, to learn and relearn, to take baby steps, to take it one day at a time. i am unaccepting of the truth that these things will not work. not being good enough or strong enough or giving it a bigger chance. i gave it a chance. i gave it a million chances. a million chances too many. i dont't feel right, i don't feel okay and no, there isnt a reason why. the back and forth, the pissing contests, take it all back. i'm just making a huge mistake. and you all have watched as i crashed and burned and let down and fought back. now just leave me here. theres nothing you can do. helpless. lost cause. i hate and am hated for my inconsistent efforts and motions. broken down. don't try to understand. you won't. you can't. i don't. it's bigger than me. and bigger than the facade of happiness. starting over. coming home. home. the idea of a mental state, bloodless. i want to wake up alone every morning. don't look at me. and don't bother. do nothing. this is what a waste looks like. it's all my drug. push me far away, hide me in a box in the corner of your closet and think of me in springtime when the ice is melting away and its becoming warm again. warmth. hanging up and shutting down. i'm starting to push back now. feel it disappear...
I know, I know. I should be writing my paper thats due in 9 hours. I shouldn't be writing a journal entry. And I shouldn't be boogie-boarding the web either, but here I am. I am 2 pages in and I have no discussion section. Christing abiotic scientific meaningless stream crap. As far as I'm concerned, both the phytoplankton and zooplankton alike can kiss my soon to be tanned-by-Florida-sun-again arse!
Science makes me ill.
In fact, school makes me ill. Thank Benedict I only have a coupla' weeks left of that. And then graduation. Then my birthday. Then Italy. ...Then what?
Work at a craft store for the rest of my life? Something tells me I may develop a little crush on our spray paint aisle. Maybe I can huff myself into oblivion so the rest of my life just goes by in a lead-induced psychadelic hallucination. Sounds better than the rest of that stuff you're all high on. Life, or whatever. ("Cleanup in aisle 8b! Marissa's done overdosed again!")
I am thinking about going back to school, but only if I stay in the area, which I'm not sure I will. Even then, what would my major be? Something just to pass the time, I'm sure. What I really want and would be really happy doing is owning my own shop...so I'd have to go for business, or at least go to a business school. And let's face it, Marissa isn't exactly a mathmatician. ((Nor is she a scientist, since her paper still isn't typed!))
I heard of an interesting and lucrative "hobby" of sorts today, a way I could make some damn good money, if I were so inclined. How do y'all feel about me shooting up some hormone therapy and droppin' a couple of m'eggs down at a bank for $5-10,000?
No?
Alright. Enough procrastinating. I'm going to take a bath.
How descript can one be while trying to be nondescript?
These last few days have been...different, to say the least.
Have you ever noticed that the people you never want to run into are always the ones you see when you look like absolute dogshit? Case in point: I'm at work today, my hair looking like something Garfield puked up and then shit on after eating a large piece of lasagna. Who shows up? Well, the ex boyfriends family of course! Haven't seen them in two years! Let's make a stunning impression, Marissa! Make sure you get real tense and have nothing good to say about yourself. And pretend to look interested as they moon over the wedding of their psuedo-intellectual, vegan, tree-hugging, trash-talking daughter! Woohoo! And be sure not to mention the fact that you scromped all over their dinner table when they weren't home!
I need a gun.
I'm as impulsive as they come. I buy all those things atop register counters in stores. Nailpolish, candy, socks...you name it. So when it comes to those small purchases, like, I don't know, plane tickets to Florida? Yeah, better snag those...guess where I'm goin' next Thursday!
I need a labotomy.
I'm beginning to see what happens when I start hanging out with a bunch of girls. Check out those pics. Who ever thought they'd see me ...gasp...in wedding gear? And...even bigger gasp...holding a baby!? The insanity!
I need HELP!
...Hopefully another 5 days in Florida with my Egyptian Sun God (Rah!) and Steph will knock some sense into me.
* Have you been sad a lot lately? Yes.
* Have you had crying spells? Yes.
* Is there a change in your productivity or your ability to concentrate? Yes.
* How does your future look? So bright I need shades!
* Do you have difficulty making decisions? Um, I'm not sure.
* Have you lost interest in aspects of life that used to be important to you? Very much so.
* Are you tired? Always.
* Do you feel guilty or like a failure? Not so much a failure, but guilty yes.
* Do you wish you were dead? Sometimes.
Untreated episodes of major or acute depression last an average of about six months. At least five of the symptoms below must occur for a period of at least two weeks, and they must represent a change from previous behavior or mood. Depressed mood or loss of interest must be present.
* depressed mood on most days for most of each day : Yes
* total or very noticeable loss of pleasure most of the time : I don't think I really had the pleasure to begin with.
* significant increase or decrease in appetite, weight, or both: I love and will always love to eat.
* sleep disorders, either insomnia or excessive sleepiness, nearly every day: If not one then the other.
* ongoing physical symptoms such as headaches or digestive disorders that don't respond to treatment: Ah, this explains the migraines and constant indigestion.
* sexual dysfunction: oddly enough no. I heart getting it on.
* feelings of agitation or a sense of intense slowness: yesss
* loss of energy and a daily sense of tiredness: yesss. I want to sleep my life away.
* sense of guilt and worthlessness nearly all the time: My life story.
* inability to concentrate occurring nearly every day: yes
* recurrent thoughts of death or suicide: yes
Now what?
It hasn't yet worn off. Last night I played music and sat in my underwear while playfully pretending I was temporarily okay. Funny how I feel more sane under the forces not within me. Is that saying much at all?
I doodled in red all over my notebooks and waxed brilliance while having a photo shoot with myself.
- I should be the spokeswoman for Duracell
- Loving you.
- It smelled strongly of urine and liquor. I knew I was home.
- He lifted the pearls over her head. The End.
- My fucking bee.
- I happen to like my chubby legs.
- The Sensitive Tooth Act of Balsam County '94
- It was the first time I had reached down and I felt I had the legs of a woman.
- Lend me your cigarettes.
- Kiss me.
- Orange walls in hindsight.
- Retrospection.
- Unmusual. The quirky brunette returns.
- You never loved me enough.
- Marry me.
- I don't remember the nougat so much. Just the erupting volcano to the left.
- Paul Reiser
- Soon we will all be gone. And our traces blown away by the bullet of our guns.
- Live with me.
- Strengthening the woes of your desires.
- Applause. German Applesauce.
- The yellow gleaming against the white of her hands. Twice.
- Music torn in me.
- FOREVER.
- I am so indecent.
- lipsynching.
- Dizzying.
- Wrapped in your metaphor.
- Classic One-Liners: I've been saving up for a book!
- When it rains...
- More people who listen to Radiohead. What the hell is going on here?
- WOODSTOCK: I saw Jewel naked!
- dreamlike
- CRUSHED
- Wrap yourself around me.
- Make it last.
- He's been down at the Limeshow again.
- Flyin' Away
- My angel of the morning tonight.
- you know the tree section of the inkblot test? a dead bug?
- ideas won't let me sleep.
- Don't kill me again.
- obsession with underwear
- She had a snickers on one side and oatmeal on the other. She will be missed.
Ah, who am I kidding?
The angry black clouds mocked me far in the distance through the reflection of the rearview mirror. I liked that they were behind me. I was driving into the sun for once. I'm just waiting for the kill.
...trying to find a little niche somewhere that I can crawl into and find peace. I'm trying to regain my focus, trying to make time go by faster, trying to battle my inner rage. And I must say, it's really exhausting. (It's probably because I haven't had caffeine in a good week and a half! DETOX!)
And I'm not sure what it is within me...I'm not sure how much I believe in "depression," or certainly not the commercialized version of it anyhow. But I do know that something, a BIG something, isn't right. And I can't help but feel like we are all just becoming jaded and too "in-touch" with ourselves that we forget its not always just about us. I saw an interesting book the other day, it was titled "One Nation Under Therapy: How the Helping Culture is Eroding Self Reliance." It struck me a little differently than it was implied.
The author isn't wrong. Therapy today is like Tickle Me Elmo of the 90's. It's marketable. (And for the record, the sheer thought of living in a country who uses thoughts of despair and suicide as an industry gives me chills.) Any little emotion and suddenly you're the perfect candidate for a session with Dr. Melfi. "Well we can't have you feeling things! Here! Take this!" Zoloft almost always ensues.
I'm beginning to see the bigger picture, here. In speaking in terms of America and our fascination with "doing the right thing" in combination with the myriad of magazines and talk shows and headlines dedicated to the importance of being self-sufficient, we are becoming a society no longer tied together through social interaction instead we just merely exist next to one another.
I firmly believe that it is okay to need someone and to love someone. In fact, I find it more healthy than shelling out $300 per visit to a creepy man who stares at you over his clipboard while you blubber over your recent breakup. I think human contact is mandatory to your sanity. And by human contact, I mean hugs and laughter and good conversation, not one sided and shallow small-talk or having to pay for a social life by going to therapy. And I'm not knocking it in anyway. I've been on the other side of the clipboard. I'd rather pay $25 for lunch with friends. And I've always found that that is the best kind of therapy there is.
Being self-sufficient and being selfish are two different things, yet the rigid line between them is beginning to diminish just as is the "giving" and "taking" aspect in respect to human relationships. Instead of going to therapy, maybe we should go back to kindergarten, where we can learn how to share and how to give a little to get a little in return.
And there has been strong emphasis on choice nowadays. Sure, we all love to have choices. Big Mac or Whopper? Survivor or American Idol? Aidan or Mr. Big? But what happens when the choice is something that actually matters, say between being with someone you love or doing something you love? Isn't there a happy medium anymore or are we all just trying to establish ourselves so much that everything else falls short of that one goal? Life is multi-dimensional. I dont know about you, but if I had only one thing to live for, I'd get a little bored. And if I were faced with the question of choosing A or B in regards to two things that make me equally happy, I would find solid ground somewhere in between. Things aren't impossible. I know, I know...you think I need therapy! I'm being so...rational. Now if only the rest of the nation would follow suit. (Though since we are an obese nation, I think they'd be following sweatsuit. !!)
It's a nice idea that pills can "fix" whatever is wrong with you. That is, it looks good on paper. Kind of like communism. I personally don't like the idea of some outside force, albeit a small blue tablet, altering the way you feel. I always felt kind of numb and zombie-ish while I took them and ultimately it didn't fix a damn thing for me. Obviously, I'm still like this.
I can't say my problems are too big for me. I don't think of them as "problems." In fact, I can't really name one thing that is to blame for this slump I can't get out of. There's no name for it. I'm beginning to feel like maybe they are just feelings...and thats okay.
I hate thinking that we are a nation of brainwashed people, devoid of any original thought and that we are on the steady decline in the giving area. If everyone keeps taking, there will be nothing left. I feel jaded and overly unenthused.
Pass the Prozac! Must have more of the new wave mood enhacing drug because, hey, my life sucks too!
But what do I know? I'm no doctor.
I'm on that proverbial, overused and completely cliche' rollercoaster again. My fickle, fickle nature has disallowed the use of decision-making in regards to my unstabilized moods. Rar rar rar!
After a few steady days of composure and light-heartedness, my usual prolific sadness reared its ugly head, nearly paralyzing my ability to function.
And today...well, it's an up day.
Whats with this?
I'm craving a sort of consistency that isn't mundane...if it's going to be a rocky path, I want to know it so a break between rocks isn't a tease. I don't want to wear the wrong shoes and risk breaking a heel.
I do believe in greater forces, that go beyond human control. I'm looking for a sign, here. So imagine if you will...a 5"1' dark haired little girl, stretching her arms around the entire earth, picking it up and shaking it. This is my magic 8 ball. And my question?
What is all of this for?
Answer me.
Happy Belated MEASTER everyone!
And I'll leave you with a quote from one of my little customers of the day...
"You're not a real bunny! You're just a person in a suit!"
No bunny droppings! Of course I'm just a person in a suit!
Its been 2 days and already I can feel myself reversing. I don't know if its the constant rain or playing Beck's Golden Age on a loop or being back here, but it's dragging me down fast, like quicksand. Its getting harder to breathe, I feel like I can't see past the moment.
I know where I want to be. And I realize there's a list a mile long I need to checkoff before I can even begin to think about these things happening. I sometimes dream so much that it becomes real and when my idealisms are shattered I lose all hope once again.
I hate thinking in terms of right and wrong, of black and white. There's always so much emphasis on doing what's right and what's right is always some intangible, inconceivable notion thats out of reach and nearly impossible to obtain. I'm all about the id. I want what I want and crave what I desire. And if my fancy is no longer entertained, I move along. I can't see running in circles for years before I begin to see the fruits of my labor. That may be cause for belief of my insensibility, but it's quite the opposite. To me, that is sensible. It's how I make sense.
I'm almost 20. A large span of that has been wasted waiting. I'm impatient. I'm ready.
All the unspoken rules that I supposedly break are what make me a social phenomenon.
In terms of measuring my self worth, I find it hard to estimate my entireity while sitting naked in a bright white room. I try to color my mood with orange and lime paints, different shoes for different outfits...it's like I'm a Christmas tree with no decorations. Does it mean the same?
My composure is just the opposite. I am not composed. I'm beginning to fall apart at the touch of my own hand, baring my heart and begging for it to be broken.
I sit here completely alone, interrupting my own thoughts with random song lyrics, catatonic states and self loathing.
It's so good to be home.
Getting on the plane last night to come home was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Knowing the plane was going in the wrong direction, away from Mario and Stephanie, and flying into a place I once called home. I was flying into deadlines and school and divorce and to heart problems...I was crashing into a completely different world that I was coming from.
When we got on the plane Monday morning, my stomach was in knots not knowing what I would feel the next time I was on the ground. I had a boy waiting there to pick me up that I hadn't seen in 6 months...I didn't know what to think or how to feel. It didn't seem like I was taking a vacation at all. I felt like I was going to bury the remains of once what was, but then the plane landed and I got off with my heart in my carry-on luggage and ran into the arms of the same person I fell for a year ago. Nothing had changed. It was still him. And it was still us.
Almost instantly I felt the heaviness of the anxiety and the stress lift and I settled into the same ease I once revelled in with him. And I got my kiss. Times a million.
The week was great. We went shopping (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and we went to Universal Studios where we were undoubtedly the most charming people in Toon Town. I'm telling you, people can't keep away from us. They practically throw roses at our feet! Okay, okay. Not roses. More like Express passes for the FLUME ride to make the 60 minute wait go by just a little faster!
But back to shopping...GUCCI AND PRADA AND JIMMY CHOO OH MY! I think I'm in luuuurrrrvve!!!
The weather was gorgeous. Every morning (or afternoon by the time he'd wake up!) we'd awake to wonderful un-snowy weather. My feet were smiling all day in their sandals. A forty degree difference from what I flew into last night.
By the time Friday morning rolled around, my heart was starting to sink knowing I was going to break in two by the time my plane left. I had waited so long for this...and now it was over. And I kept thinking to myself, how am I going to do this?
Leaving Mario was hard enough, but knowing Steph wasn't coming back made it all the more harder. Her and I became inseperable in the last weeks after she decided to fly down to FLA with me to move in with her boyfriend. I got to see her almost everyday I was there and I thought I mentally prepared myself well enough to say goodbye, but you can never really be ready for those sorts of things.
I didn't bother preparing myself to say goodbye to Mario. I knew it was going to be awful. I cried most of the day, punctuated with retail therapy at the Mall of Millenia. And our last hour together was the hardest. I couldn't see how I could leave him again. Once was enough. There was no way I could do it again. But sure enough, I gathered myself together and he drove me to the airport just in time for me to walk out of his arms and onto a plane back home. But I felt more like I was leaving home. I mean, we went shoe shopping for chrissakes! The way to this girl's heart is through her feet! (And her wallet, apparently.)
I cried as I walked up the stairs and as I turned back to see him just once more. I cried through being frisked by airport security and as they checked my ticket at the gate. But it's not until the terminal that the tears really began to pour. There was a crying child behind me. It was then I knew this was going to be an awful flight.
I had three seats all to myself but still I say all couped up in the corner near the window, a gargantuan pile of sopping tissues in my hands, as I felt the idea of a heart breaking within me.
We took off into a pitch black sky that seemed too infinite for comfort. Below me, I saw the tiny lightning bugs of car headlights moving on the veins of the city. I saw a million streetlights and felt like they were stars beneath me. I hated knowing that we were moving in two different directions. And that each breath I took it was further away.
After the first half hour, I began to settle in and eat my pretzels, sip on ice cold gingerale and thumb through my Lucky Magazine. I guess I'm doin' fine.
Got off the plane, exhausted, the onset of a migraine and puffy eyes greeted my parents at the baggage claim. It was the beginning of a love hangover. I crawled into my bed 2 hours later and found I couldn't sleep. I woke up alone.
...I'm sure you all know what the palm trees are like anyway. No need for me to explain.
You and Me - Lifehouse
What day is it
and in what month
this clock never seems so alive
i cant keep up and i cant back down ive been losing so much time
cause it's you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do nothing to lose
and it's you and me and all of the people
and i dont know why i cant keep my eyes off of you
what are the things that i want to say
just arent coming out right
im tripping on words
you got my head spinning
i dont know where to go from here
cause it's you and me and all of the people
with nothing to do nothing to prove
and it's you and me and all of the people
and i dont know why i cant keep my eyes off of you
something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right
Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
and me and all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to prove
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you
What day is it?
And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive
