Some liken life to a roller coaster while some liken in to a merry-go-round. I think the point is that life is full of ups and downs with some cotton candy and popcorn that tasted good at the time, thrown in. But it seems to me that my life mainly consists of stops and goes. Red lights and green lights. Crazy good happy times followed by periods of non-action and constant worry and stress.
I feel like a person driving a car whose probably looking at their iPod more than they should be and being surprised by each light. When good things happen, I'm surprised, and when bad things (or stagnant moments) happen I'm equally surprised.
For instance, my books is being published (yaaay!) but it's up to me as to when I get it released. At least to degree. it depends on how quickly I edit. And my editor...well. I won't get into it. It's nothing bad or major just...a yellow light I suppose. And while I'm feeling torn between yay and stressed I received an e-mail querying about my other novel--which is awesome! Will they pick it up? I don't know! But I hope they do, because I love that story!
But meanwhile I'm on vacation but feeling like I shouldn't be. I should be writing more and I'm not. And to add to the cacophony of it all I feel the deep desire to Vlog and I can't. I don't have the camera I want to film such things. I want to film. I want to get back into my beautiful lil' book community. But with my camera stolen and my editing program deciding that it wants to take a 2 year break its been hard.
Stop and go. Zero to 160. Right now, for some reason, I feel like I'm at a red light. A lot of things that COULD be or WILL be but it's on pause. I'm at a red light getting ready to go and not sure if I'm able to floor it but hoping I do.
But also it could be headache talking.
Thursday, November 24, 2016
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Life Goals and Being Green
My parents were no exceptions. Both played guitar, both were artsy by nature despite 'normal' jobs, and both loved gardening. LOVED it. I remember as a tiny kid watching my dad plant plum, peach, and apricot trees along our fence. When my parents had first moved into the tiny house they planted a grape vine, only to realize too late that it was a wine grape, and the green grapes were small and sour. They were (and still are, because the vine is still there!) my favorite grapes in the world.
Whenever we moved my mom had plants. My dad bought 28 acres of land. My love of food and growing things myself comes from them and watching them. While some people want to run away from the cities and suburbs and buy huge amounts of land and homestead I'm about balance.
Would I love to drop everything if I won 2 million dollars and run away to the mountains to grow my own veggies and chickens and build a quaint Victorian looking cottage complete with a stone fireplace and a horse? Sure! As long as I can keep the internet and TV and be 15 minutes from town. 10 would be better. I love gardening and being 'green'. But I also love ice cream and movie theaters and PEOPLE. I'm about balance. Balance is good!
Now that my book is getting closer and closer to being published (2017 is going to be an interesting ride you guys!) I have little hopes and dreams popping up. Mainly dreams of buying a cute house with 1 to 2 acres of land so I can garden and own Irish Wolf Hounds and a pony. And wildflowers. That's always been a dream of mine since I was 13, but now it seems that if things go well, I can make it a reality!
 |
| Isn't it cute!? It just needs wild flowers and it'll be perfect! |
I just want a normal sized house with lots of land to grow food and flowers and next to a strip of trees so the kids I'll someday adopt can run around and build treehouses in them. And of course I need chickens. Who doesn't!? But regardless of the amount of money I make off of my books I just want nature. I miss being able to build raised beds and harvest my own food and grow pumpkins for Halloween (i've done it!). I want to be more earth conscious which is why I'm now learning to can my own food! I want a garden again.
Life goals are different for everyone. Mine are simple. Get books published so I can help teens and adults escape the world for a while and learn something about themselves, travel the world to see and feel and eat, buy a small house with a bit of land, and adopt kids. That's all I want.
Fame is something that's secondary for me. I don't NEED fame of massive proportions. If I get it, it's a bonus and I'll take it. But my life goals are to just enjoy life and help people. That's really what it comes down to. Well, and chocolate. Chocolate is a big thing too.
I don't know what my life will look like 5 years. Hell, I don't know what my life will look like in THREE years. But I hope it includes me traveling the world and making friends and putting down roots in a home where I can my own food and grow my own things and have artsy neighbors. Really, I hope it means that I move back to Modjeska. Or at least somewhere very green with nice people.
In the mean time, enjoy this picture of linen. Because it's calming right? RIGHT!? We won't think about how it'll probably be stiff when it's done. Oops.
In the mean time, enjoy this picture of linen. Because it's calming right? RIGHT!? We won't think about how it'll probably be stiff when it's done. Oops.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Changes
I don't do well with changes, and my life's going through a lot of it all at once. I realize of course, that my complains are definitely 1st world problems. Still doesn't mean they aren't problems.
I have to tell my job that I need to quit. For some people confrontation isn't a big deal to them. Swinging from one job to the next after a few months or even a year is no big deal for them and they feel no remorse doing so. It is to me. I hate confrontation. I hate giving bad news. And in this particular instance I hate the changes that are coming WITH the news I'm giving them. I have to tell the family I nanny for--the family that I really like and get along with--that I have to quit. Which I HATE. But mainly I have to do it because of the following reasons:
a) My mom told me to move out at the end of summer
b) The family was going to give me less hours this summer (and I'm already struggling)
c) I have to get my writing off the ground (still)
I think I have the reverse reaction in my (now recognized) depression. Most people hovel away from the world and friends when depressed. I overly share. I need to talk. I need to think. I need to talk as fast as I think. I need to connect with people but often feel like I'm NOT, or that if I do people will get annoyed with hearing me talk about it over and over. I over talk and over think everything. I can't seem to help it.
My life is taking on a lot of changes all at once. Some of the changes are good. I needed a new job anyway since the family I nanny for DID cut my hours. I wasn't sure how to tell them I'm quitting over it. At least now I can tell them that I'm quitting due to outside forces (ie my mom). Sounds less worse. Wait. Is that correct English? Eh, whatever! A new job was inevitable. But then the whole 'oh yeah, and move out' thing is a big change for me. Huge.
Some people do well with change. Some people thrive on moving place to place. I'm not one such person. I love travel and seeing new places and people. I even like airplane rides! But I don't like moving. I don't like the painfulness that comes with pulling up my little roots that I've stuck into the ground. It hurts and I leave a piece of myself and a piece of safety along with it each time. There is no safety or permanence in any place I go to from now on. And that's scary for me.
But on the other hand to counteract having an insane meltdown of epic proportions I will list the good things that will come with a new job and moving:
1) More money to save
2) Money I can chose to do what I want with
3) Living in a place with (hopefully) friends
4) Able to do lots more Vlogs as will be alone in said apartment a lot (most likely)
5) I can travel the world more
6) Change is good
7) Probably
I know I have to roll with the punches and see what life will have in store for me. But it's hard to do that when you're still trying to crawl up a hole and aren't sure what's on the top. Also, these walls I'm crawling up are very muddy and slick. One wrong move or word and serious damage could happen. Like, I could fall back into the hole. But I need to keep thing in perspective. Once tomorrow happens and I tell the family that I'll be leaving I can move forward. Forward is good. Forward is better than falling or staying right?
Meditation is required now I think. Meditation and lots of deep breathing. Because I'm not looking forward to this conversation tomorrow, and I don't even know how to say it nicely. Honest is fine. But how am I going to even START this conversation. Give me a hand universe, since you seemed to have taken delight in throwing me into all of this change.
I have to tell my job that I need to quit. For some people confrontation isn't a big deal to them. Swinging from one job to the next after a few months or even a year is no big deal for them and they feel no remorse doing so. It is to me. I hate confrontation. I hate giving bad news. And in this particular instance I hate the changes that are coming WITH the news I'm giving them. I have to tell the family I nanny for--the family that I really like and get along with--that I have to quit. Which I HATE. But mainly I have to do it because of the following reasons:
a) My mom told me to move out at the end of summer
b) The family was going to give me less hours this summer (and I'm already struggling)
c) I have to get my writing off the ground (still)
I think I have the reverse reaction in my (now recognized) depression. Most people hovel away from the world and friends when depressed. I overly share. I need to talk. I need to think. I need to talk as fast as I think. I need to connect with people but often feel like I'm NOT, or that if I do people will get annoyed with hearing me talk about it over and over. I over talk and over think everything. I can't seem to help it.
My life is taking on a lot of changes all at once. Some of the changes are good. I needed a new job anyway since the family I nanny for DID cut my hours. I wasn't sure how to tell them I'm quitting over it. At least now I can tell them that I'm quitting due to outside forces (ie my mom). Sounds less worse. Wait. Is that correct English? Eh, whatever! A new job was inevitable. But then the whole 'oh yeah, and move out' thing is a big change for me. Huge.
Some people do well with change. Some people thrive on moving place to place. I'm not one such person. I love travel and seeing new places and people. I even like airplane rides! But I don't like moving. I don't like the painfulness that comes with pulling up my little roots that I've stuck into the ground. It hurts and I leave a piece of myself and a piece of safety along with it each time. There is no safety or permanence in any place I go to from now on. And that's scary for me.
But on the other hand to counteract having an insane meltdown of epic proportions I will list the good things that will come with a new job and moving:
1) More money to save
2) Money I can chose to do what I want with
3) Living in a place with (hopefully) friends
4) Able to do lots more Vlogs as will be alone in said apartment a lot (most likely)
5) I can travel the world more
6) Change is good
7) Probably
I know I have to roll with the punches and see what life will have in store for me. But it's hard to do that when you're still trying to crawl up a hole and aren't sure what's on the top. Also, these walls I'm crawling up are very muddy and slick. One wrong move or word and serious damage could happen. Like, I could fall back into the hole. But I need to keep thing in perspective. Once tomorrow happens and I tell the family that I'll be leaving I can move forward. Forward is good. Forward is better than falling or staying right?
Meditation is required now I think. Meditation and lots of deep breathing. Because I'm not looking forward to this conversation tomorrow, and I don't even know how to say it nicely. Honest is fine. But how am I going to even START this conversation. Give me a hand universe, since you seemed to have taken delight in throwing me into all of this change.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Sailing On a Dream
When I made this title for my blog I remember liking it because it sounded neat. It sounded like a song. It sounded like something I'd say. In the back of my mind something deeper niggled and tried to make push deeper--but I was too busy learning Japanese. Sorry philosophical voice in my head. But first, news (because I know you all care soooo much by all the comments you leave me here!):
The beginning of this year (ie January 1st) is really living up to it's potential. Or rather, all the little seeds I've tended to last year are starting to sprout. It's hard to see they're sprouting. And sometimes something sprouts up from a seed I didn't even know I'd planted! I had committed this year to being the year I just went and did it. It. Anything. SOMETHING. It's the year I do stuff. And so far...my god.
If you'd told me last year that me making friends with other writers or using twitter or that I'd finish my freaking sci-fi novel would pan out into this year I'd say you'd eaten too many goldfish crackers.
But here I am.
Here I am only a month and half into 2016 and amazing, incredible things are happening. Last year felt like it was moving to slow and too fast. I got stalled a lot creatively. But my actual job went by way too fast. I won a lot of little small victories that I didn't properly celebrate because to me it wasn't the big end goal of GETTING PUBLISHED. But looking back (as you're wont to do) I see now a lot of those little victories are why I'm where I'm at now. And I appreciate them.
I've won 1st place in a story writing competition, and Honorable Mention in another prestigious competition with a crap ton of entries from all over the world. And, just last week, I got my first offer for my sci-fi book.
ARE YOU FREAKING OUT JUST LIKE ME, MY LITTLE BLOG AND BOT FOLLOWERS!??!
But try not to freak out too much! The offer is great except for the time frame. They want to publish my book a year from now. Which I would be okay with (well, no really) if it were a traditional publishing house. It takes a year to a year and half for them to publish it and put it in book stores. But this is a Digital Publishing House. The average time frame for them is 3 to 5 months max. And these guys, should my book get picked up, want to release NEXT YEAR. Which, honestly, I don't like given that it's digital.
So....while I got an offer, it doesn't mean I've accepted it. But we'll see. I asked them if there was any way they would be willing to have my book published this year. If they agree...well. Then we can celebrate. Until then, this doesn't really feel real. But I'm trying to remember that even getting a full blown contract offer ONLY A WEEK after submitting it is pretty freaking awesome! So good job little sci-fi! Some one loved you!
And recently (aka, tonight) a wonderful girl who I can only say is my Southern Twin that I met online via a writing website, offered me a place in being on an author interview Vlog for a super popular site where I would sit with other writers and we would discuss a topic about writing or books. I can't even tell you how excited I am about this. I can't even.
Which leads me to why I started off telling you about my my Blog Title. For me, life really is just me on a little skiff in the middle of the ocean of dreams hoping to god the Nightmare Sharks don't smell the chocolate bars I have on board. The more I think about my life the more I realize just how much this title really applies to it. I'm sailing on a dream. I'm clapping my ruby red slippers and hoping I have enough talent to make this little skiff made of writing work.
But you know what? I think it's working?
I may be sailing on a dream, but who said dreams don't come true, huh?
The beginning of this year (ie January 1st) is really living up to it's potential. Or rather, all the little seeds I've tended to last year are starting to sprout. It's hard to see they're sprouting. And sometimes something sprouts up from a seed I didn't even know I'd planted! I had committed this year to being the year I just went and did it. It. Anything. SOMETHING. It's the year I do stuff. And so far...my god.
If you'd told me last year that me making friends with other writers or using twitter or that I'd finish my freaking sci-fi novel would pan out into this year I'd say you'd eaten too many goldfish crackers.
But here I am.
Here I am only a month and half into 2016 and amazing, incredible things are happening. Last year felt like it was moving to slow and too fast. I got stalled a lot creatively. But my actual job went by way too fast. I won a lot of little small victories that I didn't properly celebrate because to me it wasn't the big end goal of GETTING PUBLISHED. But looking back (as you're wont to do) I see now a lot of those little victories are why I'm where I'm at now. And I appreciate them.
I've won 1st place in a story writing competition, and Honorable Mention in another prestigious competition with a crap ton of entries from all over the world. And, just last week, I got my first offer for my sci-fi book.
ARE YOU FREAKING OUT JUST LIKE ME, MY LITTLE BLOG AND BOT FOLLOWERS!??!
But try not to freak out too much! The offer is great except for the time frame. They want to publish my book a year from now. Which I would be okay with (well, no really) if it were a traditional publishing house. It takes a year to a year and half for them to publish it and put it in book stores. But this is a Digital Publishing House. The average time frame for them is 3 to 5 months max. And these guys, should my book get picked up, want to release NEXT YEAR. Which, honestly, I don't like given that it's digital.
So....while I got an offer, it doesn't mean I've accepted it. But we'll see. I asked them if there was any way they would be willing to have my book published this year. If they agree...well. Then we can celebrate. Until then, this doesn't really feel real. But I'm trying to remember that even getting a full blown contract offer ONLY A WEEK after submitting it is pretty freaking awesome! So good job little sci-fi! Some one loved you!
And recently (aka, tonight) a wonderful girl who I can only say is my Southern Twin that I met online via a writing website, offered me a place in being on an author interview Vlog for a super popular site where I would sit with other writers and we would discuss a topic about writing or books. I can't even tell you how excited I am about this. I can't even.
Which leads me to why I started off telling you about my my Blog Title. For me, life really is just me on a little skiff in the middle of the ocean of dreams hoping to god the Nightmare Sharks don't smell the chocolate bars I have on board. The more I think about my life the more I realize just how much this title really applies to it. I'm sailing on a dream. I'm clapping my ruby red slippers and hoping I have enough talent to make this little skiff made of writing work.
But you know what? I think it's working?
I may be sailing on a dream, but who said dreams don't come true, huh?
Friday, July 24, 2015
The Artist's Life
I don't have an easy road. I wasn't gifted with math and perfect studying abilities (despite my smarts). I would rather staple gun my hand to a squirrel with rabies than work in an office again. I'm not cut out for a normal life because I'm not, in fact, normal.
Normal.
It means different things to different people. For a person who works a 9-5 job their world might be very interesting and perhaps compared to their group of friends not 'normal'. But for my definition not normal means you didn't fit into most groups as a kid until you went to high school and MAYBE realized that your love all geek and nerd things were not just you--there were a few others! You don't do well with 'normal' jobs. You think of art in terms of career. You make your passions your career. The thought of wearing a suit or dress clothes to a 9-5 office makes you have panic attacks.
I'm not normal. I never was and I never will be. I've embraced it. I'm glad I'm weird. As the saying goes, "polite women rarely make history". I refuse to not travel this world quietly. I kind of can't. I'm Irish. Talking is genetically coded into my DNA. Being an artist (of any sort) isn't something you just wake up and decide to do. It's something that's been in you since the day atoms collided to form you. You can't escape it. Whether its the deep love of food, dance, music, art, writing, sculpting....its something you were always drawn to because that's what you ARE.
I didn't chose an easy life. But I wouldn't want to be anything else. I wouldn't want to wake up everyday not filled to the brim with ideas, voices, thoughts, colors, and music. That the littlest thing could inspire something great in me that could then inspire something great in someone else. That's all I want. To inspire. To let people know their not alone.
One thing I love about being an artist is that I'm actually very varied. What I lack in study abilities and math/science I make up for in being very good in many different art fields. And those fields bleed into each other. I love that if I'm working on a song on my Ukulele I'll suddenly be inspired by a note for a story or drawing. I love that when I write it can inspire me to make a comic. I love that I'm not regaled to just ONE aspect of art. I may not be the end-all be-all of a specific art form, but I'm good enough at several that I'm constantly creating something. Anything.
It's not easy life. It doesn't always make money. It doesn't always guarantee a safe future. But dammit, it sure makes for an interesting life filled with human experiences and emotions. It's a world of color and light and music. It's a world of darkness, fear, lonilness and frustration. But it is, in fact, one of the best and most rewarding ways to experience life. For that I'm grateful for all the good and bad. After all, it IS the Artist's Life.
Normal.
It means different things to different people. For a person who works a 9-5 job their world might be very interesting and perhaps compared to their group of friends not 'normal'. But for my definition not normal means you didn't fit into most groups as a kid until you went to high school and MAYBE realized that your love all geek and nerd things were not just you--there were a few others! You don't do well with 'normal' jobs. You think of art in terms of career. You make your passions your career. The thought of wearing a suit or dress clothes to a 9-5 office makes you have panic attacks.
I'm not normal. I never was and I never will be. I've embraced it. I'm glad I'm weird. As the saying goes, "polite women rarely make history". I refuse to not travel this world quietly. I kind of can't. I'm Irish. Talking is genetically coded into my DNA. Being an artist (of any sort) isn't something you just wake up and decide to do. It's something that's been in you since the day atoms collided to form you. You can't escape it. Whether its the deep love of food, dance, music, art, writing, sculpting....its something you were always drawn to because that's what you ARE.
I didn't chose an easy life. But I wouldn't want to be anything else. I wouldn't want to wake up everyday not filled to the brim with ideas, voices, thoughts, colors, and music. That the littlest thing could inspire something great in me that could then inspire something great in someone else. That's all I want. To inspire. To let people know their not alone.
One thing I love about being an artist is that I'm actually very varied. What I lack in study abilities and math/science I make up for in being very good in many different art fields. And those fields bleed into each other. I love that if I'm working on a song on my Ukulele I'll suddenly be inspired by a note for a story or drawing. I love that when I write it can inspire me to make a comic. I love that I'm not regaled to just ONE aspect of art. I may not be the end-all be-all of a specific art form, but I'm good enough at several that I'm constantly creating something. Anything.
It's not easy life. It doesn't always make money. It doesn't always guarantee a safe future. But dammit, it sure makes for an interesting life filled with human experiences and emotions. It's a world of color and light and music. It's a world of darkness, fear, lonilness and frustration. But it is, in fact, one of the best and most rewarding ways to experience life. For that I'm grateful for all the good and bad. After all, it IS the Artist's Life.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
A Road of Pebbles and Rocks
There are only two...no, three reasons you update a blog.
1) you're angry/sad/depressed/disillusioned
2) you're happy/elated/overjoyed/bragging/sharing good news/sharing pictures of happy things
3) you're drunk (for either reasons 1 or 2)
4) You're a professional blogger and you HAVE to update regularly.
Okay. So there's four. Math isn't my strong suite. There are third graders who could out math me. Probably even second graders. But this isn't about math! This is about blogging!
Tonight I come to you starving, half dead blog, for a little bit of both reasons 1 and 2. And if you count Nyquil as a type of alcohol, then there are three reasons!
Life is hard. Life is like a road full of little pebbles and rocks and rocky mudslides. Most of the pebbles are things like traffic when you're already running late, or turning in a paper late. Rocks are things like your significant other breaking up with you, or losing your job. And rockslides are usually reserved for deaths or becomings mega famous. you know, extreme and you're caught in the slide, hoping to god you make it out relatively intact and not too screwed up in the head.
Life for me this year has been filled with lots of little pebbles that sometimes feel like rocks for me. Maybe it's cause I'm short and have small feet or something. But either way, this year my feet are already bruised pretty good. In the grand scheme of things, not finishing my book when I had hoped to is a pebble. But it feels like a freaking rock. I know...I know in two years I'm going to be looking back on this entry and laughing at myself and saying, "see, you were worried and bemoaning for nothing!". But right now it doesn't feel like nothing.
I've had good things happen. I've had friends show up to support me who I wouldn't have expected to. I've finally realized how to fix the ending to my book and what was wrong with the last few chapters. I've gotten a good job I love. I've also had changes and shifts on the friend and family front. Things that are pebbles but they're all grouped together and so I step on all of them in rapid succession. Some good, some not so good. Some neutral. But either way, I'm still stepping on pebbles.
When will the road be free of them? Probably never. But I'm hoping the pebbles will stop being so often. I don't like it. Call it the Virgo in me, but I actually *do* appreciate stability. At least stability in a home life. I have one that's rapidly drawing to a close. A rock rather than a pebble. So, I leave for myself, a list of good and bad pebbles, and rocks I can see ahead of me. Rocks that I should approach and not be afraid of, since obviously everything is about how you look at it.
The Good Pebbles:
My writing blog is doing pretty good!
I'm writing and being close to being done!
I have good friends who surprised me by turning out to being good friends.
I found out my cat has excellent taste and likes brie cheese. Huh.
The Bad Pebbles:
My story taking too long to write
Being afraid no one will like my work
Not making as much money as I thought I would (but hey, I'm still happy with my job!)
Upcoming Rocks:
Moving out
Moving out to a different state altogether
Having to promote my book and hoping to god it takes off. That's a big freaking rock, blog.
Turning 30 in two and a half months (holy $#$($%7)
So there you have it. All the things that have been in my road thus far. Give or take. Hopefully the next month will be filled with nice pebbles! And to those who read this blog at all--thank you. I don't know who you are (drunk OR sober), but I like you! Thanks for bothering to read this once in a while. Sorry I suck at updates.
I blame the government. Because clearly, my lack of follow through is *their* fault.
1) you're angry/sad/depressed/disillusioned
2) you're happy/elated/overjoyed/bragging/sharing good news/sharing pictures of happy things
3) you're drunk (for either reasons 1 or 2)
4) You're a professional blogger and you HAVE to update regularly.
Okay. So there's four. Math isn't my strong suite. There are third graders who could out math me. Probably even second graders. But this isn't about math! This is about blogging!
Tonight I come to you starving, half dead blog, for a little bit of both reasons 1 and 2. And if you count Nyquil as a type of alcohol, then there are three reasons!
Life is hard. Life is like a road full of little pebbles and rocks and rocky mudslides. Most of the pebbles are things like traffic when you're already running late, or turning in a paper late. Rocks are things like your significant other breaking up with you, or losing your job. And rockslides are usually reserved for deaths or becomings mega famous. you know, extreme and you're caught in the slide, hoping to god you make it out relatively intact and not too screwed up in the head.
Life for me this year has been filled with lots of little pebbles that sometimes feel like rocks for me. Maybe it's cause I'm short and have small feet or something. But either way, this year my feet are already bruised pretty good. In the grand scheme of things, not finishing my book when I had hoped to is a pebble. But it feels like a freaking rock. I know...I know in two years I'm going to be looking back on this entry and laughing at myself and saying, "see, you were worried and bemoaning for nothing!". But right now it doesn't feel like nothing.
I've had good things happen. I've had friends show up to support me who I wouldn't have expected to. I've finally realized how to fix the ending to my book and what was wrong with the last few chapters. I've gotten a good job I love. I've also had changes and shifts on the friend and family front. Things that are pebbles but they're all grouped together and so I step on all of them in rapid succession. Some good, some not so good. Some neutral. But either way, I'm still stepping on pebbles.
When will the road be free of them? Probably never. But I'm hoping the pebbles will stop being so often. I don't like it. Call it the Virgo in me, but I actually *do* appreciate stability. At least stability in a home life. I have one that's rapidly drawing to a close. A rock rather than a pebble. So, I leave for myself, a list of good and bad pebbles, and rocks I can see ahead of me. Rocks that I should approach and not be afraid of, since obviously everything is about how you look at it.
The Good Pebbles:
My writing blog is doing pretty good!
I'm writing and being close to being done!
I have good friends who surprised me by turning out to being good friends.
I found out my cat has excellent taste and likes brie cheese. Huh.
The Bad Pebbles:
My story taking too long to write
Being afraid no one will like my work
Not making as much money as I thought I would (but hey, I'm still happy with my job!)
Upcoming Rocks:
Moving out
Moving out to a different state altogether
Having to promote my book and hoping to god it takes off. That's a big freaking rock, blog.
Turning 30 in two and a half months (holy $#$($%7)
So there you have it. All the things that have been in my road thus far. Give or take. Hopefully the next month will be filled with nice pebbles! And to those who read this blog at all--thank you. I don't know who you are (drunk OR sober), but I like you! Thanks for bothering to read this once in a while. Sorry I suck at updates.
I blame the government. Because clearly, my lack of follow through is *their* fault.
Saturday, May 2, 2015
Falling Short
I didn't think I'd be where I am now. To be honest, I didn't really know *where* I'd be at this age. Not living at home like am. Not struggling as hard as I am (mentally and financially). I know how lucky I am. I do. I'm not homeless, I don't have parents who abuse me or am starving for food. I have no right to complain......but I will.
I once heard some one say "just because someone has a problem that seems worse than yours doesn't mean that your's isn't any less valid." If it causes you deep stress in your life, and angst, then even if it seems stupid, to you it, it IS real. And it IS a problem and valid.
I feel like a failure. I feel like when my life DOES finally change, it'll change for the worse.
I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I took a wrong turn and apparently found the ONE hole in the wall and I'm now lost. No light to be seen. You get used to running into walls.
I'm supposed to be celebrating Beltane, the festival of love and fertility and getting it on. And I sit here, terrified of the future, terrified of love, terrified of being alone. Some Beltane. All I can imagine is that a year from now two things will have happened 1) That I'm still the same with nothing to show for my life yet again or 2) that my life will have changed but for the worst.
I can feel hope for myself leeching out of my system as quickly as the alcohol I consumed is. Too quickly. Where once I saw a hopeful future of fun and light and art and creativity, all I see now is me desperately scrambling to find a job I'll hate to survive. The threat of of that second future is very real at the moment. And the most likely.
It's scary enough, and I feel hopeless enough to think of a third alternative. One I tried once before and promised I wouldn't again because I didn't want to end up like my grandmother. That keeps me from doing it. But boy am I on that slope. I'm on the edge looking down at the friendly blackness and thinking, "So what? No one will miss me. I'm not the light in anyone's day, or someone people think about often. If I were gone, it'd be like I was never there."
I once heard some one say "just because someone has a problem that seems worse than yours doesn't mean that your's isn't any less valid." If it causes you deep stress in your life, and angst, then even if it seems stupid, to you it, it IS real. And it IS a problem and valid.
I feel like a failure. I feel like when my life DOES finally change, it'll change for the worse.
I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I took a wrong turn and apparently found the ONE hole in the wall and I'm now lost. No light to be seen. You get used to running into walls.
I'm supposed to be celebrating Beltane, the festival of love and fertility and getting it on. And I sit here, terrified of the future, terrified of love, terrified of being alone. Some Beltane. All I can imagine is that a year from now two things will have happened 1) That I'm still the same with nothing to show for my life yet again or 2) that my life will have changed but for the worst.
I can feel hope for myself leeching out of my system as quickly as the alcohol I consumed is. Too quickly. Where once I saw a hopeful future of fun and light and art and creativity, all I see now is me desperately scrambling to find a job I'll hate to survive. The threat of of that second future is very real at the moment. And the most likely.
It's scary enough, and I feel hopeless enough to think of a third alternative. One I tried once before and promised I wouldn't again because I didn't want to end up like my grandmother. That keeps me from doing it. But boy am I on that slope. I'm on the edge looking down at the friendly blackness and thinking, "So what? No one will miss me. I'm not the light in anyone's day, or someone people think about often. If I were gone, it'd be like I was never there."
I've never been anyone's special anything. Truly. That isn't depression talking. That's fact. I've had a nasty habit of attracting both friends and boys that I'm always into more than they're into me. In the end my heart gets hurt, I'm a little more scarred, a little more disillusioned and waaaaay more alone. I'm the third wheel, the second fiddle, the afterthought. I'm usually the afterthought. Its something that I've been since I was a tiny kid.
The future didn't used to scare me. It does now. I'm terrified of being a failure to myself, of not amounting to anything, of living life pay check to pay check like I am now. Barely making it. Barely living, and alone. Always alone. I know some of that is my fault too. I've been hurt so many times I don't want to take a chance on anyone again. And honestly, I don't know that there's anyone left TO take a chance on. I'm almost 30. It's not old, but it's not young. Its that age where your friends are married, have kids, have jobs, have...something and some one. And I don't. I don't even have an apartment. Just a cat.
I'm an embarrassment to the modern woman.
I thought I'd be someone more than this. I thought I'd be better than this. But I'm not.
I'm just me.
And that thought makes me feel even worse. 'Just me' isn't a very good person. I'm falling short and falling apart and I don't know how to glue my world back together again.
The future didn't used to scare me. It does now. I'm terrified of being a failure to myself, of not amounting to anything, of living life pay check to pay check like I am now. Barely making it. Barely living, and alone. Always alone. I know some of that is my fault too. I've been hurt so many times I don't want to take a chance on anyone again. And honestly, I don't know that there's anyone left TO take a chance on. I'm almost 30. It's not old, but it's not young. Its that age where your friends are married, have kids, have jobs, have...something and some one. And I don't. I don't even have an apartment. Just a cat.
I'm an embarrassment to the modern woman.
I thought I'd be someone more than this. I thought I'd be better than this. But I'm not.
I'm just me.
And that thought makes me feel even worse. 'Just me' isn't a very good person. I'm falling short and falling apart and I don't know how to glue my world back together again.
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