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.

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'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.

It's the Little Things

I have this nasty habit of being internally a downer. Like, if depressed people saw my thoughts they'd probably ask me to call a help line and feel suddenly not so depressed. I'm hard on my self to the point that rocks look soft. I judge myself and hold myself to such a high standard that even Superman goes "dang girl, you got problems". I can't help it. It's the horrible Virgo aspect in me. Normally when something bad happens to me it makes me mad and fume about it internally to the point that the one little bad thing is what sets in motion more bad things. I believe the term for it is called Endless Circle of Doom.

But today I broke that cycle. Today I said HELL NO to the temptation of my old voices. I refused to listen to the voices whispering in my head like insidious reverse Care Bares.

"You messed up. You're such a loser."

"You're probably going to have a bad day now. Might as well accept bad things'll happen to you."

"People suck. This day sucks. Screw other people!"

Such nasty voices. But today as I heard those evil words start up in my head I stopped them. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I'm in charge of how I feel. So to turn the tide of doom and gloom I went and got lunch and In-N-Out (that's right people who don't live in SoCal, be jealous! I live two minutes away from those delicious burgers!). I pulled up to the drive through and ordered my lunch. Then I noticed the person behind me looked stressed and then it hit me. The only way to make my day better was to make some one ELSE'S day better.

So I paid for his lunch without him knowing.

I sat there waiting for my burger grinning like an idiot, super excited I was making a total stranger's day. The voices of evil Care Bares stopped. The clouds parted. The more I thought on it the better I felt. My day may suck, but there are people's days who sucks worse. And now, somewhere in the world there is a person who had a bad day who is now having a good day. My only wish is that the guy I paid for will pay it forward some how to some one who looks like they're having a bad day too.

Kindness and love is so much better to give when you're having a bad day. I don't mean that to sound like Pollyanna. But it's true. Even Yoda knows that you have to combat evil with good. So if you're having a bad day like me, turn that day around and do something nice for some one you don't know. Or do know! The point is, spread love and love comes back.

Dream a Little Dream

Ah January, how cold you've been...in other parts of the world that aren't Southern California. Oh? What's that? You say it's February? Oh! Let me restart that. Ehem.

Ah February, how cold you've been...in other parts of the world that aren't Southern California (there, nailed it!). I'm eternally thankful for the rain that you gave our drought ridden state, but why are you hogging all the snow? Send some here instead! But I'm not here to talk about weather. No sir (ma'am?)! I'm here to talk about dreams. So grab a margarita and a sombrero and dream with me!

Ever since the age of 14 I've wanted to go, even live in Japan. It started with my friend Yuko tricking me into memorizing all of the hiragana and katakana in a week (because her parents had forced her start Japanese school, and she felt her best friend should also suffer along with her) and gave me a bag full of manga. And thus my love for Japan began. Well, Sailor Moon as a 12 year old helped. I longed to see Tokyo and speak in Japanese and fly in giant Gundams. But one thing stopped me just like it stops all artists at some point in their life.

Math.

Thanks to my horrible (and also tested) inability to do math and a lot of stress and tears through college (followed by an actual academic court case of which I lost on a technicality so freaking tiny that even the department fighting for me pitched a fit) I was unable to graduate with only my one math class missing so that I couldn't accept my degree. I knew (and my department knew) I wasn't able to complete the class. I'd failed it three times in a row and after that you have to wait a year before you can re-take the class. I walked out feeling angry and betrayed and more than that, defeated in my quest to go to Japan. To work there you need a four year degree. Or so I was led to believe for more than a decade. But it turns out where there's a will, there's a way. And boy do I have will. Apparently. But mainly I had google.

What I lack in math I make up for in ability for languages and writing. And drinking. With those powers combined along with a strange talent for typing quickly, I became what I had always wanted to be (but didn't know): A writer. And apparently, writing is considered an art. And if you can prove that you make a livable wage (whatever that means) from it, you can receive an artist Visa and work as an artist in Japan. Well color me holy-taco-painted-purple surprised!

 So with a new goal in life set before me, I've begun the process of getting my novels out into the world (which is first and foremost in my life anyway) so that they can be read and enjoyed. And from that to get a chance to live my dream that I thought wasn't possible (legally). So it turns out little dreams can indeed become a reality. So by this time next year or so, I'll be setting up shop in Japan with my laptop and a very very very angry behemoth 18 lb cat who hates traveling.

Because that's how I roll.

Changes

Oh hello there! You must be lost, right? Oh. You're not? You've been waiting for me to update for like...two months? Crap. Um. Well hey, here's an update for you!

Life is change. If you're not changing you're not living. New Years happened--and it was pretty exciting! I had an impromptu party where copious amounts of alcohol was drunk, food eaten, and a lot of deep discussions happened. I really don't think I've ever been to a New Years party with friends where we didn't in some way end up talking about world religion, writing, or the moors of society. I guess that's what I get for having smart, artistic friends. We can't do anything right apparently!! But it was fun!

I didn't make any Resolutions this year....at least not on the correct day. I've actually been thinking about it really hard. I wanted it to MEAN something, and not just be empty ones I'd give up half way. (Or two days in....or two minutes in. Any one who says they're giving up chocolate is setting themselves up to fail. Don't do that.) So this year, my few resolutions are this:

1.Make this the year of homemade soup (You heard me! I'm going to make lots of homemade soup!)

2. Eat healthier (not diet. Just make better food choices)

3. Not be afraid of success (I've realized this is a big problem of mine)

4. Speak kinder to myself/compliment myself more (because if I don't love me, who will?)

Those are my 4 resolutions. I don't like diets because they're CRAP. And also, I like food. No. I LOVE food. So I refuse to give it up! I just eat smaller portions now--I've already lost quite a bit of weight doing it, so there you go, proof! If you haven't noticed I didn't put up there "become a writer" or "get published". There's a very good reason for this. It's because that's already going to happen--it's not something I need to make a resolution on. It's an undeniable fact. This year is a year of changes, which brings me to my next paragraph!

This year is different. This year I can feel a monumental shift myself and how I think. It started back in early December but it's been growing rapidly. The feeling of Change. A big change is going to happen, my old life is going to die and be replaced with a new, bigger, better one. I feel it coming and it freaks me out a little with the intensity. But I know it's here. All the stars and planets are aligning in my favor I guess! I made a couple of life changing decisions and the second I firmed them in my mind as "I will do this" the universe just snapped things into place for me. Clearly I've made the right decision. But writing. Writing is a thing. It's one of the big changes. There's no going back, no stopping, no worrying if it's the right thing to do in life. It is.

So I will not put it as a new years resolution, because that time for getting things published, for making a living off my books--that time is NOW. Not in half a year, not in four months. NOW.

Another big change that I'll be making (other than fully writing as a career and no longer needing to rely on an outside job for money) is that I'll be moving to Japan. It might take slightly longer than I wanted (which was the end of this year) but I should be going by early spring next year. If that isn't exciting I don't know what is! I'll be starting school this month, going into Japanese II and taking psychology classes (for writing! Because understanding human conditions are important!). It's a new year and new me!

Life is about to get very interesting around here, so expect more updates (Because also, as a thing, I DO want to be better about writing in my blogs this year!)

The Open Road

This weekend I head off to San Francisco to visit a friend I've known for nearly 12 years. I'm very very grateful for the friendship I have. We've helped each other through many things, and despite the distance and sometimes even the amount of times when we don't speak, we're always close. There's no hard feelings or blaming when one contacts the other after a long time in between not speaking. Just pure joy at having a friend you know you can call and just...be. I go perhaps once a year (and I really should make it more often) and it's always such fun when I go! It's truly a life long friendship that I know not every one has in this life.

When I go to visit her, I drive. It's a long way from my house to San Francisco, but I really enjoy it. I have to wake up really early--which, I admit, I hate--but when I cross over a mountain pass into the flat lands of Bakersfield (the land of cows and cow poop. Seriously. Just miles and miles of cows and poop. Welcome to California folks!) the sun will just be rising and I see a desert valley stretched before me bordered by brown mountains. Bakersfield is really just shades of brown with patches of green. I stop at the same gas stations that I stopped at as a kid when my mom took me up the redwoods, and eat at the same diner. I see the same mountains and hills and when I hit Gilroy I always stop and buy local fruit and garlic from the stands on the side of the road. Because it's tradition. Because when I do it, I feel like I'm more myself.

I'm alone.

If you don't live in the US you might not understand the appeal of a road trip. But for me, to be alone in a car as I drive across the expanse of California alone with my thoughts and the radio...I love it. It's a great way to get some perspective and as I drive I feel my concerns and worries go away. I can relax and just look at the ribbon of cracked gray road I drive on. I can use the time to just be myself in the car and listen to my thoughts and be. I think that's why I like traveling so much. I love rediscovering myself. But driving up to San Francisco is different.

Rather than thinking about where I'm going, I think about where I've been. I remember the road well, I remember who I was and how old I was when I was on the road. I remember the feelings and even thoughts I had. I go backwards. But it helps me to see who I was and how far I've come, and compare who I am now. I also feel very free and independent when I drive alone on such a long trip like this. I feel my self confidence grow in my ability to travel by myself, take care of myself, trust myself to take the right roads. It's a much needed break from my life back home.

My fondest memories when I take this trip (Besides seeing the flat lands of Bakersfield) is the twisting road that snakes through Gilroy. The lush green hills and mountains are right against the road, tall and filled with trees and bushes that cling to craggy rock and soft soil. It should look scary and intimidating with how tall they tower above you and press around you, but it isn't. They feel friendly. You feel safe rather than scared. I've been through the pass many times and it still makes me say "WOOOOW!" every time.

I love the open road.

I need this trip. I need it to reflect on my life and to review my past. This trip is long over due, and when I get out of the car, it'll be to step into the arms of an amazing friend who'll be holding a glass of wine out for me. Because that's how my friend rolls. Good thing I'm bringing some bottles of wine in return!

Shedding Skin

    I didn't grow up in a normal home--I think a lot of people don't. But I grew up very unconventionally because my dad was a motorcycle riding, Santa look alike, hippie. He had me grow up in a tepee in the mountains with trees for friends, a boat where our table became our bed, and a quaint small home by the ocean that he lovingly grew wild flowers around. All of these places hold very definable memories for me and my life. I look at back on them and remember them with almost perfect clarity. Perhaps not every day of my life, but many life lessons and even inconsequential things like watching him destroy a colony of ants in the wildflowers. I was devastated because I was watching them and found it fascinating to watch the queen lay eggs. Sure, they would soon grow and enter our home and eat my sugary snacks, but it was so interesting to watch how nature worked! Then it was destroyed by his shovel right before my eyes. 

     But the thing is, even when I look back on these moments in my memory I remember them because at the time that the events were happening I said to myself "you need to remember this moment and this feeling right now." I have always looked towards the future impatiently. I wanted to grow up. Hell, I FELT grown up at a young age. I felt too mature for my age. As a teen I didn't understand other teenagers who didn't question everything, who did stupid drama things and had boyfriends only to break up two weeks later. Why call them a boyfriend? Why have one at all? The friends I made in high school were unhealthy in a lot of ways...but I also learned from those bad experiences and to be fair, they DID have brains in their heads and were very serious to a degree about life--at the age of 16 we opened our own legitimate business and ran it for three years (legally owned the name, paid taxes, everything.).

     So here's my point. I've always wanted to grow up, or be in the future. I enjoy being in the present for sure, and I don't regret things in my past or choices I've made. But right now....right NOW I'm on edge. I'm losing it a little. I don't regret things I did in the past.....but I'm terrified of the present. I'm terrified of the me I am now. I feel like I'm on a high wire above a very large canyon and one small step, one gust of wind, is going to blow me away into oblivion and I will have failed without even getting started. Maybe this is all the backlash of me turning 29. Maybe its my fears creeping in saying "you should be farther a long in life. What the hell are you doing?" I do. I feel like I'm failing right now.

     But also I feel this....ripple. This change. All my fears that were at the back of my mind are now bubbling forth to the front, and from it I feel the desperate need to CHANGE. Like....completely change ME. I want to be different. I want to act different, I want to be so different my friends don't recognize me. Along with the fears--like that suddenly I'm too old to achieve my dreams like living in Japan or not making it as a writer--is a writhing, seething, screaming urge to transform.

    This isn't you!  

     That's what my inner me is saying. Who you are right now, that's not you. This present me needs to die. I need to be different. It's terrifying. I've never wanted or felt the need to change so dramatically. But I want to. I want to change so bad, and I don't think there's a way to stop it. But it's a good change, it really is. If I let it. But first....first I think I need to conquer my fears. I have a lot of them. I think the biggest one is disappointing people and not doing things I want to because they seem crazy or too far fetched. I want to stop thinking that way. I want to go for the gold. I want to hold my head high and say "So what? You got a problem with it? Too bad!" 

     This need to change....I've always had little bits of change I want to do, that I go through--everyone does. I want to change so badly that my skin feels itchy and I want to rip it all off. I've never had this experience...this drive, before I don't know what to do with it or why its happening. Just that it IS happening and I need...no HAVE to do it. I don't know what I'll look like on the other side. I don't know who I'll be. That scares me. But what scares me more is  the thought of being who I am right now, forever. This is NOT who I want to be. This is not who I'm meant to be.

I need to shed this skin.