empire state of mind

Hello there. Long time no see! For future reference, I have made a blog for my travels in New York. I'll still be writing here, though. This is my personal blog. I don't think I could give it up if I tried. But if you want to know what I'm up to in detail while I'm living in the Upper West Side - read me here.

winter, vivaldi

Let's pretend that it isn't cold. Go outside in tees and shorts. Eat snow and dirt and gravel.

On another note: my word count journal is kicking my ass. I keep forgetting about it.

And another: I'm going to West Virginia on a whim. To get away for awhile, ya hear?

Also, I think I'll start reading Wall Street Journal. For kicks.

darling

"I'm a romantic; a sentimental person thinks things will last, a romantic person hopes against hope that they won't." - Fitzgerald

brambles

I don't know why, but I am only able to write on this when I'm home. I suppose it's because I relate the two together - I started writing here so I may as well finish writing here. Not that I will finish. Can blogs be finished? They're not like poems or short fiction (which are never really finished either, just published). Anyway(s).

If you didn't figure it out, I'm home. In Baltimore! It's rather nice. I don't remember the last time I saw consecutive hours of sunshine. It's not cold but it is windy, which isn't pleasant.

Things I haven't been missing:

• The house. This is in utter shambles. Still.
• My room. It's small and now filled with plants. Ferns, trees and a cactus garden.
• Narrow and busy streets at all hours. Having to drive everywhere.
• Having dishes to wash.
• Darlene sending me on random errands.
• Being alone during the day.

Things I have been missing:

• My new(ish) bed. It's soft and has wheels which I can't explain.
• Bastet and Sheba the kittens. Even though they may have flees. I don't want to know, really.
• As much as I hate being out on the streets, I do appreciate the light and noise. It's constant and puts me to sleep.
• Making my own food. Sandwiches, potatoes with cheese, chipped beef gravy. Down-home stuff.
• My crazy ass friends, all of whom are inappropriate in every way and rude.
• Darlene, even though she is equally as insane. It's amazing how much more you love your mother after you graduate from high school.

I am missing other things. Like you and him and them. To say much more would be bitter but omission is betrayal and god forbid there was much more of that.

To bed? Probably not. I guess I'll continue reading Stephen King's Cell. That's the kind of person I am these days. A Stephen King person, whatever that means.

old bay

I'm a libertine. I'm single for the first time in a long time. I'm a woman in interesting times. I'm a product of mass consumerism but I've planted my own garden. I'm able to drive wherever I want, listening to whatever radio station I'd like to. I can run away. I'm a student and I can legally drink. I enjoy America's favorite passtime and am lucky enough to live on the coast. I can hangout with whoever and write whatever the hell I want.

Folks, I'm feeling just fine and for once in my life I have no plans.

there is no leaving new york

If today was an sign of the summer to come, I'm a bit concerned.

I woke up at 9:00 in the morning to take my dog for a walk. I couldn't go back to sleep so I showered and then proceeded to put my pajamas back on and watch television. I found myself hungry around 1:00, walked my dog again, and then (in my pajamas) went to Taco Bell for breakfast. Which I ate in a McDonalds parking lot. The family came home around 3:00, where they found my sorry ass playing drums on Rockband. I played all night, through 35 of 58 songs of a solo tour, and then came up here to bed.

Instead of sleeping, I decided to check facebook and then do a bit of writing. Thus far, all I've managed to write is "I will not give in" about 900 times.

On another note, my birthday is in two days. For the past couple of years, I have had shitty birthday weeks due to relationship problems. I refuse to let this happen. If this means convincing myself I'm not in a relationship, then so be it. Which sounds more horrible than it is...but I don't care. I'm desperate.

Isn't it horrible how you always imagine your birthday being so much better than it is? You imagine surprise parties and friends popping out behind your couch when you get home from work. You imagine finding your lover naked in your bed full of rose petals. (Too much? Maybe.) Damndamndamn. I will not get my hopes up!

I. Will. Not. Give. In!

you are so sweet dancing

There are many things happening in the next (that have happened in the past) few days. Kate turned twenty-one yesterday. Famous people died today. Kate's party is tomorrow. I'm home alone all weekend while my sisters are playing lax in New Jersey (ew). Doug turns twenty-one on the twenty-eighth. I work from 12:00 until 8:00 on Saturday at the recreation center. I have to drive the truck which is causing anxiety. The dog is sick so I have to make sure it doesn't die on my watch. Camp starts on Monday. My twenty-first birthday is on Tuesday. I'm celebrating on the Fourth of July. I'm not sure which drink to order first. I guess my life is pretty random these days.

I took some pictures today.

I am hoping that I can find a crochet needle soon because I have so much yarn here in my room just calling for me. I'm also hoping that it rains because it's far too hot in my house. If it rains, I'll open all of our windows and doors and try to blow all the hot air out and replace it with cool air. Maybe then I would be able to go to sleep at a decent hour. I guess I should also lay off the Mountain Dew. I think it's making my nerves bad. Or my hands jittery. I've also been drinking a ton of water...which I've heard is a good thing. On July 7th, Ani DiFranco is playing at Rams Head Live! and I'm really hoping that Kate will be able to get off of work that day to go with me because I've heard that Ani is amazing live. I would hate to have to go alone, but I would do it if I had to.

I like waking up early to bid good days at work to people. I also like random letters of desperation to people that I've never met. However, I don't like walking miles in the heat to the nearest mailbox to mail said letters. I think I need to do some more reading on poetry. I haven't been up to writing much besides these blog entries and a few random beginnings of stories. I'm currently listening to the new Regina Spektor cd entitled Far. It's pretty much exactly what I expected, which I suppose is neither a good nor bad thing. I do love Hombre Lobo by Eels, though. It's decent.

I need to buy my plane ticket back to Iowa. I think I'm going to go for orientation week and work in the Theatre or in the Library. I would very much like to be a part of Pieces of the Puzzle again. (Let us cross our fingers.)

Counting down the days until you.

hail to whatever

If there is anything I've been missing these days, it's having a good friend around to talk to me about what's going on. And by friend I mean an unbiased and out-of-the-loop kind of friend. One that I can talk to about my love life, my home life, and my future plans without worrying that I'm rambling and talking to a brick wall. That's how I feel about a lot of people these days. Maybe it's the heat but I've felt so unnecessary. I have so many plans that I just haven't had the chance to talk about with anyone. I'm not used to having plans. I guess I don't make them often because I am scared of (and scarred from) disappointment, which is pretty sappy. I have plans for after college. If I don't make it into the grad schools I want, I want to apply for the Peace Corps. I like to think I'm strong enough for that sort of thing.

This weekend made me realize several things: I now know what I want. I now know that I have severe anxiety over how to get and more importantly, how to keep what I want. I now know that I need a hobby (bought a ton of yarn today to start a new blanket) and I need work to start at the camp. I need to keep faith. I've been contemplating going to church again, another thing I haven't shared with anyone. I've been reading about Buddhism, about freeing oneself from all desires. I've been praying. Whatever that even means. I've gone to sleep early and woke early for several days now. It feels nice to be awake more often than not.

I have to worry about after school. I think about the buffer period between graduation and my own life. I think about how the buffer can turn into a period of static and stasis. I think about saving money just in case. Money for a few months in my own apartment. Money for traveling. Money for gas. Money for food. I think about setting a schedule for writing. Amy Tan of The Joy Luck Club and Saving Fish From Drowning said that she writes from 9 in the morning until 7 at night every day until publication. I think about what kind of dedication that takes and if I have it in me. I think about if I want to be a writer at all.

I think about my back up plan. My just in case. My excuse. I think about the job before the career, if I'll even have a career. I wonder if I'll wander from audition to audition, hoping that my talent and experience will be enough to cover the type-casting I'll face. I'm hoping, and this a big hoping, that it'll be easier than I imagine. I'm hoping that I'll get married because I'm a big fan of romance. I'm hoping that I will be unlike my own parents, not that I'm not glad that they are divorced. I look forward to having a dog and my own bed, even if it's just a mattress on the floor of an apartment. I look forward to sharing these things with a man that I love.

I will try my best. I will make it through the summer. I will not let the past few weeks repeat themselves.

It's All Mixed Up

"So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years—
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l'entre deux guerres
Trying to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate—but there is no competition—
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business."
~ T.S.Eliot, Four Quartets, East Coker pt. V