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Infomercials. [Mar. 12th, 2004|02:48 am]
[how am I feeling? |sleepysleepy]
[rockin' the boombox |Air - Remember]

The undeniable purity of the night;
Wrapped around the shoulders of this Earth
The stark perfection of the quiet peaceful evening
When the sun has gone to bed
Aft the sleep sits in her eyes and she kisses us goodnight...

The richness of this misty eve
Clings to my skin like a lost lovers breath...
When the entire world rests
But me.
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Stood Up. [Mar. 10th, 2004|08:28 pm]
[how am I feeling? |contemplativecontemplative]
[rockin' the boombox |The Cure - Pictures of You (my theme as of late..)]

I am always searching.

I wonder how it works out, then, that I never find what I'm looking for.

A little peace.

There's no doubt that I'm the type of person who always has to suffer - be it from love, absence, toothaches or empty pockets. Whatever else comes to mind. This quality comes from being a writer, unfortunatley. We want to take all the pain from everyone in the world, wrap it up in a tortilla and gobble it down. No matter if it explodes in our stomaches, we will howl that it pains us but rejoice that we are feeling, embrace the idea that it is all gone. That we are telling the world how to FEEL... And yet - these things, these ailments, find me. Because all I am ever searching for - all that my adventures will ever carry me will be to a place of peace, harmony, happiness. I understand about the yin & yang, there has to be evil to balance the good. I understand, it registers, but I won't believe it. I can't. There are darker things in this world; who knows how much darker in others; yet, all the darkness I know is so beautiful. And they're just searching for rest, like me. Someone to understand, someone to love, someone to laugh. They just want to be happy. That's all any of us want.

A little peace.

Maybe I will never know what it is about me that gives me such strong faith in people, such a deep love for beauty. Maybe I read 'The Diary of Anne Frank' at a way-too impressionable age. Maybe I've seen too many repetitious episodes of The Care Bears... by choice. Maybe I never should have watched American Beauty. Maybe I have wept at too many sunrises. What I have on my hands is a terrible thing. I cannot fall into another sinkhole, I can't pigeonhole myself to death - I can manage that, believe you me. On beautiful, glorious nights like tonight, with the wind tunneling through the mysterious city sweeping the leaves off of their feet, I want to fly with them. I want to BE them. And it wouldn't it be worth it? A small price to pay for...

A little peace.
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Juxtaposed [Mar. 7th, 2004|03:26 am]
[how am I feeling? |frustratedfrustrated]
[rockin' the boombox |n/a]

Why do things that are so bad for you - just so detrimental- taste so good? It's like staring at a tragedy through a window. Witnessing it happening, and not being able to help or scream and be heard. Or, to be much more honest, know it shouldn't happen but continue to let it. Turning a blind eye to the unabashed truth, the indisputable headache it will give you down somewhere along the line...

But what happened to living in the 'now'? Focusing on what it is that I - and I mean ME - really want deep down inside? I want to laugh, I want to cry, I want to just SCREAM, I want to taste, I want to dance, I want to go on a million adventures, I want to love... oh, I want to love... the darkness only lasts so long and when the sun peeks over the dusty mountains and the trees speckled with dew glint to say hello, where will I be? Will I be watching? Would I have missed it? I must be true to myself. I need to remember that feelings are just that - feelings. There is no fault in what I feel, only in the actions I take upon them that effect others negativley. Right? Isn't that how it goes?

My life cannot take another Grecian tragedy. Star crossed lovers punished by the Gods, the same blood spilling from another body, tough love by means of morphing. I have had enough sadness in my life, enough loss, enough desperation. But why is it that I'm so tempted to do this to myself? Is it the thirst for sadness - do I need to feel something again? Or am I just so incredibly romantic that I feel something has to be lost or sacrificed to gain anything at all? And then I begin to persuade myself into continuing this course of destruction. But is it the deconstruction of the progress I have built for myself? Or is it the resurrection of who I really AM - who I was to become before I was torn apart?

Searching, scathing, dragging, combing, clawing, hunting...

From beginning to end, I want to taste the fleshy fruit that tempts me. There has never been such a fine line between what I should do and what I want to do. Maybe I will just wade in this consuming darkness, where I feel comfortable and at home, and count the stars until the answers find ME, instead.

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The Eyes of March [Mar. 5th, 2004|11:44 pm]
[how am I feeling? |accomplishedaccomplished]
[rockin' the boombox |John Mayer - Love Soon]

A round of applause, Ladies and Gents...
After 22 years, I am FINALLY coming out of my shell. Well, in my opinion of coming out of my shell, for what that's worth. I am learning to flirt. Novice, I am. But not benched. Not anymore.

Tweed Hat came into my work last week.

For those of us that know him not, I will fill in a little background. The first time I saw him he was wearing this tweed fedora (attn rocket scientists: he is aptly named). Babyfaced though a little scruffy, studious eyes and full of patience. Mysterious. Who was he. I noticed him instantly. He waited in line - made sincere eye contact. Because I am a hot blooded girl in her early 20's, of COURSE I was excited to wait on him. I might be shy, but I'm not the little ignored girl on the playground.
He had this full enveloping smile and an aire following his presence that I don't think I've felt in a man. All he did was order coffee but I felt it - in my GUT - that he was watching me. Why? God knows why... maybe I had a booger hanging out or a roll of fat that was so distracting he just couldn't keep his eyes away... or maybe he liked what he saw. "On ME? What??" I think. But I got his coffee and I smiled back focusing VERY hard on the anti-blush mantra. "If you blush, you will realize you're blushing and you will blush more." and stayed focused - like a soldier I handed him his change. He smiled, it could have lit up the room and even if it DID I wouldn't have noticed. I was married to the mantra, that was my lover until he finished putting creamer in his cup to go and was gone. It was how I survived. Defense mechanism? Survival of the fittest? I haven't found a categoy for my crutch - sans delerium - but I have a feeling it's a passing thing. A stepping stone. And this is how I met Tweed Hat.

At work last week, the phone rang - oh what a lovely voice on the other end. A to go order? Ugh. Not again... but I was polite and good w/my phone manners. Who was this guy? He had a great voice and actually made conversation on the phone. I took note of his name and order and made a mental note to check out who it was when they come in to pick up their food. I always check out to go order boys if they have a cute voice on the phone - I'm hot blooded, remember? I forget about the call as my shift rolls by. Charlie and I talk, I giggle, I make lattes. In walks Tweed Hat. Charlie got excited... he KNOWS who Tweed Hat is. He makes eye contact w/me and walks right up to the register. I'm prepared. I'm ready for him. Gimme what you got, baby, I'm wearing my deodorant. He smiles - asks me how I am. And out of my mouth flies this coy oozing person... sweet and friendly but definatley thinking other things. I smiled, I didn't blush but omg. I FLIRTED. And HE flirted. WE flirted. There was actually some 1 on 1 flirting going on in my life last Saturday night with Tweed Hat. Granted, his to go order may have been for him and his "girlfriend" (who, for now, remains variable since the truth of her existance is pending) and their romantic Saturday night alone. But Charlie heard it - and was impressed. I FLIRTED. Woo!

All week I've been priding myself. It feels pretty awesome. But I knew there was another obsticle I had yet to endeavor. The REALLY hot guy that comes into work. The probably-actor-could-be-gay-except-that-he-says-dude guy. The I-actually-had-the-nerve-to-wave-at-him-and-he-winked-and-I-blushed-so-hardcore-that-I-hid-behind-the-espresso-machine-because-I-realized-I-was-blushing-and-blushed-more guy.


In he walked today. Observe the little lioness stretch her muscles and sharpen her teeth. I grabbed the register. Oh, I knew he was there and no one was going to keep me from this. It was a challenge and I was interested in seeing how well I'd do. He greeted me with a familiar smile. He recognized me - and without my mask of crimson! "Hey! How's it goin!". But that's him. He's incredibly friendly. The birds should escort him in, he's gregarious - not to mention considerate and, yes, still incredibly hot. He was flirtatious, but I kept up. He leaned close to me on the counter and made eye contact. I welcomed it. He was charming... "This order is gonna be really weird so I'm gonna try really hard not to confuse you.." he laughed politely. And so it begins. He makes a joke - I laugh just enough. I ask a question, he encourages my certainty. The phone rang, the customers lined up behind him, the busboys tried to ask me a million questions... but I stuck to the task and stayed focused. His order was going to be PERFECT. And that's where I began. We finished up and I kept an eye on him... he sat in the next room. I saw him fiddeling w/some dishes on a table that needed to be bussed. I tried to tell myself "no, don't do it, you're lame..." but I did it. After waiting a few seconds I grabbed a towel and off I went to bus his table. He was at the one next to it now, reading, or doing whatever it is that he's so into doing ... that makes his eyebrow furrow and he gives his undivided attention to all the time. Playfully, like one would do to a little kid (less demeaning, stick w/me...) "Did you want to sit here?" I ask, with a smile. Oh, I bet it sparkled, I was so proud... "Oh!" he chuckles... then looks confused, "I think I've found a place. I've been everywhere today, I don't know what the hell I'm doing." Gooey melt blushy feeling coming on... down, down... go away.... I laughed "Ok.." I said and shuffled off w/my dishes. My shift was ending. What do I do. I collect my stuff and walk around the restaurant floor as much as I possibly can. Delivering the last bit of food to the last few customers left on my shift, any excuse, occasionally looking to see if he looks - and if he looks at girls because that, much like Tweed Hat's girlfriend, is also pending. I deliver his food to him. He's so polite, so gracious. Says thank you and smiles.. I just run off. I lapsed a little so I must catch up again. I go to the store in the back, talk to the girl who works there, buy some insence... come back out and he's gone! But his stuff's there! Oh I wanna poke through, just to KNOW! But I don't because I know he's out front and I can find him there. I make a big goodbye and leave the front this time. He's there.. his back is turned. I make like I forgot something. Turn around, go back in and grab a paper. Head back towards the door and BOOM I smack. right. into. him. He looks suprised, recognizes me, smiles and says "Oh, sorry! Oooh.. goodbye!!" and touches my shoulder. I smiled and said goodbye.

Ladies and Gentleman, we have made contact.

I probably have an ice cube's chance in hell with either of these guys - but the fact that I was able to muster enough courage to TALK - to FLIRT - with either one of these guys is almost unfounded based on the Laws of Ginger. Charlie taught me about "the eyes" that women give men. And I'm learning. And it's starting to work - because they flirted back. No ketchup in my face, hot coffee dumped on my head, crowd of people encircled around me pointing fingers and clutching their stomachs to soothe their roaring hysteria.... all that was left was me, a hot blooded female, ready to come out of her shell.

The Eyes of March will be seen again.
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Woman Ascending Staircase [Mar. 1st, 2004|12:23 am]
[how am I feeling? |rejuvenatedrejuvenated]
[rockin' the boombox |Phantom Planet - One Ray Of Sunlight]

It gets easier, ya know.

You may not believe it yet. I mean, when it first happens you KNOW - and it's in a serious way - that it will never ever get better, cross your heart and hope to die. It will pain you through your death, follow you down, down, down to the lashing tounges of a firey Christian hell and stick to your bones when all of your flesh has been eaten away by the heat. But when you look around you and you've seen that you have reached the belly of the demon, you unknowingly turn about and begin your ascent of the staircase. And as tough as the journey is, your weight becomes lighter as your legs become stronger and your pain that you wear as a thorny crown begins to dull and slip away. Instead of looking behind you to remember what you have lost, your eyes focus up and ahead of you to seek what you can find - there is more, you're sure of it! You're so sure of it! All your friends are waving... and there's your cat! There's a party waiting for you! There is an occasional blow on the way up, and you're wounded for a little while. You travel with a limp - a battled warrior, but you trudge on because everyone is cheering for you. You are depending on you. No matter what anyone says, you know things just move on and you learn to block out what has hurt you so deeply. You start to see a new light - the soft tender light of honesty. It seeps with truth and you immerse yourself in it. It's so nice to feel the warmth of reliability. Comomforting medicine with which to tend your wounds and soak your bandages. Life is ready for you. And when you reach the top there is a beautiful world - and now a dark side that you are aware of and a bit wiser about - the chasm that swallowed you whole. And you gaze down into the hole with your jaw gaping open... and feel this immense sensation of pride. The sun shines on your cool skin and reminds you of what it felt like to be alive. And you laugh. Your lose your bandages after a while and wear scars that ache now and again, but they have become *you*, and you embrace your friends and sing. You cuddle with your kitty. Because the truth is, you've been to hell and back, you've actually come BACK. It happens to the best of us and to the worst of us. The strongest and the meek. But now you know. You REALLY know.

And despite everything, I promise you first hand, it gets easier.
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hearts and thoughts, they fade... [Feb. 11th, 2004|11:11 am]
[how am I feeling? |crazycrazy]
[rockin' the boombox |The Postal Service]

You would think that an enthusiast of pink and love and heart shapes would embrace the holiday that we've adopted as Valentine's Day. And I do - in a sense. I wouldn't mind a candy box (we all know that I have blood of sugar...) and would really LOVE to practice my cooking skills and make heart-shaped everything ... including heart-shaped icecubes c/o the miracle of IKEA... but it's just not meant for me, this year. Nor, was it last year. Sure my Valentine's Day was great with my once-boyfriend. Then. Reflecting on it makes it hurt though because I can't believe that someone could have changed the way he did. Bitter? Eh, a little. But what I really think of the holiday is somewhere along the lines of the psudo-emo cynics... the one dressed in all black in your favorite 80's teen movie, the kid with the problems, give me your Bender from Breakfast Club, Rob from High Fidelity, Jane from American Beauty... somewhere amidst this pink glittery hurricane I oscillate within, bits of their drone flow through my sugar-soaked veins and pulsate with disbelief. I'll show you.

Why is there a holiday that we celebrate man/woman, man/man, girl/girl love? Why is it directed at people who are together? Love is what makes this world shift and shake, procreation possible, drives people to their death... it is the backbone, the very support, of humanity. And here I sit deflated and aghast that the world depicts this holiday as cupids and hearts, a day to get married, a night to spend too much on dinner, an evening to get laid. I spit on those that do not celebrate the love that fills us each and every day... from our pets, from our family... from our wonderful friends. I hate to sound Doogie Howser and go off about how this holiday is another ploy for greeting cards and candy manufacturers so I will just say that I don't believe that to be too far from the truth. The truth is that people are so simple they have to be reminded to celebrate their love. They need a day on our calendar to say "Spend this day with your loved one!" and remind everyone else who is single and completley aware of love, their lackthereof, a lot of people who are much more deserving.. that they do not have a relationship. Singles, embrace your loved ones. Your sweet green-eyed cat, your childhood teddy bear, your mom, your dad, your brother, your best friend..... me. Be relieved that this Valentine's Day you ARE alone and not succumbing to the atrocity of celebrating love one day a year. That you have no one to break your heart... Go - celebrate this Valentines YEAR! Make it a year of love that isn't made of cliche's. Make it a holiday to love YOURSELF. When the day is over, there will be nothing but stale candy on sale at SavOn, discounted roses close to wilting at Carnation and another card that will probably eventually end up in the "ex box". All you will have is yourself.. and though you'll be well aware of it then... remember, hearts and thoughts fade. True love, the kind that hurts, the kind that so few will honestly feel this holiday, is the *only* one that matters... or lasts.
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