so tonight i quit.
on Sunday in church we talked about going to wise people for advice. My parents, my department head, the dean, my mentor, my brother, and everyone else I've spoken to has told me repeatedly that this is something I can't commit to. So, I took their advice.
I feel pretty crappy.
hopefully I'll adjust.
Monday, January 30, 2006
MAD
I am so freaking mad I don't know how to put it into words.
First of all for anyone who doesn't know I am taking like a month off of working at the KPC because my schoolwork has gotten to the point of ridiculous overload. I am busy virtually all the time, and when I am not working on homework I am eating, sleeping, or working at a church. I don't mean to complain but perhaps I have not been vocal enough about my workload, because the KPC has made some pretty drastic demands on my time lately. In December I pretty much gave an ultimatum about finding another girl to help me out there. It didn't work, so last Thursday I gave two weeks notice that I am taking a month off to focus on my school. That will hopefully help me to decide whether or not I even have time to be serving there (or Ethnos, for that matter).
Monday nights we generally have small group, but it has been a really tough commitment to keep for the past few weeks with my school schedule. On top of that, a lot of the girls have been too busy to come on Mondays anyways. Every monday night I have to figure out a way to get all the way out to beaverton for a few hours. usually I stay there overnight because I have sacred space in the mornings. What has made it even MORE difficult is that now, our family only has one car for four very very busy schedules. Monday nights are packed and it is not just a hassle for me, but for everyone in my family. tomorrow (which is generally my day off) I have a doctor's appointment out in Beaverton, and a few other errands, and I don't really have the time I need to work on my homework between now and then. It makes everything really high-stress.
Anyway, a few minutes ago I had a really frustrating conversation with Nate about the KPC. He randomly switched the meeting place without really letting me know, and even though I've been coming every week with only 2 girls showing, this week I flat out don't have the time for it. So I said if two or more girls come I will be there. I called every girl and heard back from all except two that they are not coming. I explained all of my scheduling errors with Nate. Not only does he not understand this (seemingly) but he was just like, don't cancel it. You can't.
I am freaking pissed because no matter how hard I work there are always more demands on my time and every interaction we have about the KPC is an increasingly frustrating one. I have been very flexible about working there but I have given adequate warning and I just feel unappreciated. And... i don't really know the word. I don't really have an equal share in the authority there but I have been trying very hard to be submissive to Nate and Brad's authority. And from time to time I feel like their authority and my submission is abused. and even when I say something about it, it is rarely acknowledged.
I am so annoyed. I tried after this interaction to go back to my work but I am too pissed now and I am wasting even MORE time writing this stupid blog when I should be working.
Uh oh, here come my angry tears.
P.S. I do not have a book for the study we are supposed to be doing tonight, no one gave it to me.
I do not have any money for transportation on the MAX because I haven't had a paycheck from GRACEworks in 3 months and I have not had a paycheck from the KPC for the entire time I've worked there.
I have a 6-7 page paper and a 20-hr drawing due on Wednesday and I haven't had a chance to do my paper yet and I am half done with my drawing. Not for lack of effort, but for lack of time and other homework.
This is the most frustrated and stressed I've been in a long time....!
p.s. to everyone who commented on my last post--- colie is my roommate.
First of all for anyone who doesn't know I am taking like a month off of working at the KPC because my schoolwork has gotten to the point of ridiculous overload. I am busy virtually all the time, and when I am not working on homework I am eating, sleeping, or working at a church. I don't mean to complain but perhaps I have not been vocal enough about my workload, because the KPC has made some pretty drastic demands on my time lately. In December I pretty much gave an ultimatum about finding another girl to help me out there. It didn't work, so last Thursday I gave two weeks notice that I am taking a month off to focus on my school. That will hopefully help me to decide whether or not I even have time to be serving there (or Ethnos, for that matter).
Monday nights we generally have small group, but it has been a really tough commitment to keep for the past few weeks with my school schedule. On top of that, a lot of the girls have been too busy to come on Mondays anyways. Every monday night I have to figure out a way to get all the way out to beaverton for a few hours. usually I stay there overnight because I have sacred space in the mornings. What has made it even MORE difficult is that now, our family only has one car for four very very busy schedules. Monday nights are packed and it is not just a hassle for me, but for everyone in my family. tomorrow (which is generally my day off) I have a doctor's appointment out in Beaverton, and a few other errands, and I don't really have the time I need to work on my homework between now and then. It makes everything really high-stress.
Anyway, a few minutes ago I had a really frustrating conversation with Nate about the KPC. He randomly switched the meeting place without really letting me know, and even though I've been coming every week with only 2 girls showing, this week I flat out don't have the time for it. So I said if two or more girls come I will be there. I called every girl and heard back from all except two that they are not coming. I explained all of my scheduling errors with Nate. Not only does he not understand this (seemingly) but he was just like, don't cancel it. You can't.
I am freaking pissed because no matter how hard I work there are always more demands on my time and every interaction we have about the KPC is an increasingly frustrating one. I have been very flexible about working there but I have given adequate warning and I just feel unappreciated. And... i don't really know the word. I don't really have an equal share in the authority there but I have been trying very hard to be submissive to Nate and Brad's authority. And from time to time I feel like their authority and my submission is abused. and even when I say something about it, it is rarely acknowledged.
I am so annoyed. I tried after this interaction to go back to my work but I am too pissed now and I am wasting even MORE time writing this stupid blog when I should be working.
Uh oh, here come my angry tears.
P.S. I do not have a book for the study we are supposed to be doing tonight, no one gave it to me.
I do not have any money for transportation on the MAX because I haven't had a paycheck from GRACEworks in 3 months and I have not had a paycheck from the KPC for the entire time I've worked there.
I have a 6-7 page paper and a 20-hr drawing due on Wednesday and I haven't had a chance to do my paper yet and I am half done with my drawing. Not for lack of effort, but for lack of time and other homework.
This is the most frustrated and stressed I've been in a long time....!
p.s. to everyone who commented on my last post--- colie is my roommate.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
everybody loves colie
... and i am confused and jealous.
we are two very, very different people... we have almost nothing in common. and people seem to like her better, which is beyond annoying. i don't really know how to explain it, and i know it's just my own stupid insecurities, but i would rather acknowledge it and find some way to let it go than... well, whatever the alternative is. i'm not very used to feeling insecure and i hate it, and i hate admitting it, the whole process just sucks. this is one (the dumbest) of many, many examples in my life right now where god is calling attention to my pride (i have a lot of it) and breaking it down. not a fun process. i haven't been feeling very good about myself in a lot of ways lately (more important ways, like questioning of my character and integrity). again, i rely on my confidence, and so it's been hard.
anyway... i would say some other stuff but i'm tired of thinking. time for some mindless entertainment... or something
we are two very, very different people... we have almost nothing in common. and people seem to like her better, which is beyond annoying. i don't really know how to explain it, and i know it's just my own stupid insecurities, but i would rather acknowledge it and find some way to let it go than... well, whatever the alternative is. i'm not very used to feeling insecure and i hate it, and i hate admitting it, the whole process just sucks. this is one (the dumbest) of many, many examples in my life right now where god is calling attention to my pride (i have a lot of it) and breaking it down. not a fun process. i haven't been feeling very good about myself in a lot of ways lately (more important ways, like questioning of my character and integrity). again, i rely on my confidence, and so it's been hard.
anyway... i would say some other stuff but i'm tired of thinking. time for some mindless entertainment... or something
Sunday, January 22, 2006
.guided.meditation.
(for sleeping... there are ten minutes leading up to this)
rest now in this feeling of silence and timelessness for a while
notice how your mind enjoys this feeling of timelessness
how it enjoys being silent
and how it is pleased by just living in the moment.
let your whole mind and your whole body rest in this timelessness
taking one thing at a time
thus creating a sense of mental peace in all your activities.
...
...
...slide.
i wonder what our christian forum thinks of new age healing/medicine/meditation/yoga? perhaps i will ask them.
i think it is pretty freaking neat myself.
rest now in this feeling of silence and timelessness for a while
notice how your mind enjoys this feeling of timelessness
how it enjoys being silent
and how it is pleased by just living in the moment.
let your whole mind and your whole body rest in this timelessness
taking one thing at a time
thus creating a sense of mental peace in all your activities.
...
...
...slide.
i wonder what our christian forum thinks of new age healing/medicine/meditation/yoga? perhaps i will ask them.
i think it is pretty freaking neat myself.
Friday, January 20, 2006
the boys + poker night
So. I haven't posted in a while because I've been busy with classes, and getting re-settled in my apartment. It's weird, I've been gone too long. I have to spend money on dumb things like paper towels, soap and light bulbs. I hate that those things run out.
I lost a few bucks playing poker with my amigos a couple nights ago. That's all I'm really gonna say about it. The boys stole my money, and now I am bitter.
So... back in art school. All the fun art assignments that come along with that. It's brilliant. For these next two weeks I'm doing a textural study of a pinecone. That is a 10" X 23" drawing, divided up into 0.5" X 0.5" squares. That is 920 squares, and each square is supposed to describe the surface value of the pinecone using a different texture or pattern. When you stand back, the drawing is a pinecone. When you get up close, it's a weird combination of crosshatch/impressionism/random squiggly lines. It's really, really hard to do.
The next assignment after that is a ten-hour trompe l'oeil, which is a french term meaning to "fool the eye." They use this to suggest actual textures and 3-dimensional objects on a 2-dimensional surface.
This is an example of a trompe l'oeil drawing. They are really hard to do, too. I am nervous about that already, and it's at least two weeks before I even have to start it. But it is also supposed to be an autobiographical image, a collage of items that express us. How do I express myself in ten items?? And then how do I communicate them?
I am already thinking of important objects to incorporate. My ring? AIDS brochures? Movie stubs? I don't know. I don't really know how to describe me, maybe that is part of why this assignment weirds me out.
On a side note... Daniel told me that one of his coworkers was making some comments about me the other day when Daniel mentioned I was in art school. He was asking questions like, "Is she lazy and unmotivated? Does she have spurts of creativity? Does she swing between periods of stability and wisdom into irrationality and emotional chaos? Does she have irregular sleep patterns?" etc etc etc. Daniel was pretty impressed by the fact that this guy had never met me but pretty much had my personality down to a science. But I'm not really that impressed. Art school stereotypes exist because they really do make sense. I hate them but only because I fit almost every one. Even hating the stereotype is the stereotype. It's so hard to escape.
Actually, a lot of kids I know have had their creative behaviors diagnosed as bipolar disorder. I don't know how much credibility I give to that illness (or at least its overly widespread diagnosis) but I will probably get into that later, as that concept has been bothering me a lot lately, especially being around other art-types.
ALSO! On Wednesday I was hanging out in the student store in between classes and I ran into SHAUN. Shaun is my best art school buddy so far, but since he lives in Vancouver I rarely (if ever) see him outside of class. He and the other Joe (Joe I had a giant crush on-- he owns chickens, that is how we distinguish him from the other Joe-- Joe who has a giant crush on me) thought I dropped out because I'm not in any of their classes this term (they have three together- I'm really jealous). I told him I'm taking Argumentation, and Math, etc. It was fun seeing him and sad that I won't get to hang out with the guys more this term. They're all taking Intro to Audio, and other DMP classes. I also ran into Matthew, although he is several terms ahead already, it was good to see him and catch up. Later the same day I saw Jason too! It was so fun seeing everybody and reminded me how much I love the DMP guys. It's weird to all of a sudden be dropped in a room with 20 or 30 people who share all your interests and passions... kind of hard to describe. But I like it a lot. I wish there were more girls, that is the only fault i find in the program. More girls, but not cooler or smarter or cuter than me, so I don't have to compete, and I can still be everyones favorite with little/no effort. hahaha. anyway, i should get some sleep. I leave you with this...
IT'S SO HOT OUT! MILK WAS A BAD CHOICE.
I lost a few bucks playing poker with my amigos a couple nights ago. That's all I'm really gonna say about it. The boys stole my money, and now I am bitter.
So... back in art school. All the fun art assignments that come along with that. It's brilliant. For these next two weeks I'm doing a textural study of a pinecone. That is a 10" X 23" drawing, divided up into 0.5" X 0.5" squares. That is 920 squares, and each square is supposed to describe the surface value of the pinecone using a different texture or pattern. When you stand back, the drawing is a pinecone. When you get up close, it's a weird combination of crosshatch/impressionism/random squiggly lines. It's really, really hard to do.
The next assignment after that is a ten-hour trompe l'oeil, which is a french term meaning to "fool the eye." They use this to suggest actual textures and 3-dimensional objects on a 2-dimensional surface.
This is an example of a trompe l'oeil drawing. They are really hard to do, too. I am nervous about that already, and it's at least two weeks before I even have to start it. But it is also supposed to be an autobiographical image, a collage of items that express us. How do I express myself in ten items?? And then how do I communicate them? I am already thinking of important objects to incorporate. My ring? AIDS brochures? Movie stubs? I don't know. I don't really know how to describe me, maybe that is part of why this assignment weirds me out.
On a side note... Daniel told me that one of his coworkers was making some comments about me the other day when Daniel mentioned I was in art school. He was asking questions like, "Is she lazy and unmotivated? Does she have spurts of creativity? Does she swing between periods of stability and wisdom into irrationality and emotional chaos? Does she have irregular sleep patterns?" etc etc etc. Daniel was pretty impressed by the fact that this guy had never met me but pretty much had my personality down to a science. But I'm not really that impressed. Art school stereotypes exist because they really do make sense. I hate them but only because I fit almost every one. Even hating the stereotype is the stereotype. It's so hard to escape.
Actually, a lot of kids I know have had their creative behaviors diagnosed as bipolar disorder. I don't know how much credibility I give to that illness (or at least its overly widespread diagnosis) but I will probably get into that later, as that concept has been bothering me a lot lately, especially being around other art-types.
ALSO! On Wednesday I was hanging out in the student store in between classes and I ran into SHAUN. Shaun is my best art school buddy so far, but since he lives in Vancouver I rarely (if ever) see him outside of class. He and the other Joe (Joe I had a giant crush on-- he owns chickens, that is how we distinguish him from the other Joe-- Joe who has a giant crush on me) thought I dropped out because I'm not in any of their classes this term (they have three together- I'm really jealous). I told him I'm taking Argumentation, and Math, etc. It was fun seeing him and sad that I won't get to hang out with the guys more this term. They're all taking Intro to Audio, and other DMP classes. I also ran into Matthew, although he is several terms ahead already, it was good to see him and catch up. Later the same day I saw Jason too! It was so fun seeing everybody and reminded me how much I love the DMP guys. It's weird to all of a sudden be dropped in a room with 20 or 30 people who share all your interests and passions... kind of hard to describe. But I like it a lot. I wish there were more girls, that is the only fault i find in the program. More girls, but not cooler or smarter or cuter than me, so I don't have to compete, and I can still be everyones favorite with little/no effort. hahaha. anyway, i should get some sleep. I leave you with this...
IT'S SO HOT OUT! MILK WAS A BAD CHOICE.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
my matty whom i love <3
oh man. this guy is the greatest ever.
the other night, when i was up late crying and feeling stupid, i sent matt this ridiculous e-mail about everything that was going wrong (this is my tendency when i'm upset). and after i hit the send button, i IMMEDIATELY felt stupid for doing it, because, i was SOOOOOO upset, and none of it even made any sense.
i got an e-mail back from him today though, and he was just totally sweet in response to everything....
"I'm sad that you're sad. I wish I could be there with you... I hope things go well for you
there, I really am gunning for you (even though I always wish you were
here)... I'm taking a world religion course this term, and it really reminds me
of you, the professor is pretty brilliant and we're reading really good
books, Siddhartha included. I dunno I think about you a lot, about what you'd
say. ...ANYWAYS
I miss you alot. It would be fun to have you here but I know that the
Art Institute is a good fit for you, and I'm sure that you'll do well this
term. I love you and miss
you!!
Matt"
that is just part of it of course... i took out all the things that are, like, incriminating info... which is most of it cause we talk about pretty much everything. I just want to show off what a cool best friend I have. He always knows the exact right thing to say to me to calm me down which is neat. I said so many stupid things about this guy who i liked. ugh. And instead of being like, "Ohhhhhh he is an asshole for not liking you" or something dumb (whcih is what most people do in that situation), or getting annoyed at me for being so shallow and annoying, he just said, "i bet he will come around." Like, I know this, trust me, you'll see. ahhhhhh it makes me wanna hug him and tell him how great he is.
i love love love this kid.
matt if you read this i love you!!! i hope you know this!!!!
the other night, when i was up late crying and feeling stupid, i sent matt this ridiculous e-mail about everything that was going wrong (this is my tendency when i'm upset). and after i hit the send button, i IMMEDIATELY felt stupid for doing it, because, i was SOOOOOO upset, and none of it even made any sense.
i got an e-mail back from him today though, and he was just totally sweet in response to everything....
"I'm sad that you're sad. I wish I could be there with you... I hope things go well for you
there, I really am gunning for you (even though I always wish you were
here)... I'm taking a world religion course this term, and it really reminds me
of you, the professor is pretty brilliant and we're reading really good
books, Siddhartha included. I dunno I think about you a lot, about what you'd
say. ...ANYWAYS
I miss you alot. It would be fun to have you here but I know that the
Art Institute is a good fit for you, and I'm sure that you'll do well this
term. I love you and miss
you!!
Matt"
that is just part of it of course... i took out all the things that are, like, incriminating info... which is most of it cause we talk about pretty much everything. I just want to show off what a cool best friend I have. He always knows the exact right thing to say to me to calm me down which is neat. I said so many stupid things about this guy who i liked. ugh. And instead of being like, "Ohhhhhh he is an asshole for not liking you" or something dumb (whcih is what most people do in that situation), or getting annoyed at me for being so shallow and annoying, he just said, "i bet he will come around." Like, I know this, trust me, you'll see. ahhhhhh it makes me wanna hug him and tell him how great he is.
i love love love this kid.
matt if you read this i love you!!! i hope you know this!!!!
no!
i slept.
and then i woke up, and now i won't sleep again for like... 3 days
uggghhhh
life sucks.
is anyone really good at math and feeling helpful?
and then i woke up, and now i won't sleep again for like... 3 days
uggghhhh
life sucks.
is anyone really good at math and feeling helpful?
Sunday, January 15, 2006
fortyeighthourday
my day starts on friday morning after about three hours of sleep. getting up at 6:00 to go downtown and register for classes. with only one car between the four of us, transportation is a hassle. i have about twelve different meetings. everything is finally worked out, and i come home and pack up everything i own to move back to the apartment. between these meetings and the packing, it takes all day. when daniel comes home from work, the two of us drive to the apartment and put away all of the crap i've accumulated over the past month. my roommate is sleeping. it's 11:30, and on the drive home we stop at Thriftway to buy a six pack. Happy 21st birthday to Daniel. he is up late drinking, and I still can't sleep. It is partially excitement over my saturday morning class. I watch the Count of Monte Cristo. At 5:30 I give up and take a shower and wait for everyone else to wake up and take me to school.
9am Saturday morning, Principles of Visual Communication (take two) commences. Four hours of solid design. I am running on no sleep and a banana for energy. After class I buy two textbooks and wait with my parents while they load our only car full of wood. It is 2:00pm. On the way home I talk to Nathan, he tells me it is my turn to teach at the KPC tomorrow. Crap. I have six hours of homework, easy, for PVC. More for math.
3:00 I am studying, with little or no break until dinner. after dinner more work, GRACEworks, tax work. I haven't even thought about the KPC. I am waiting for Daniel to call me to come pick him up from the bar he is at with his friends. I go to my friends apartment to get help with my math homework.
Daniel calls, I leave to get him, and that is a freaking ordeal. By the time I get him safely upstairs it is around 3am. Then I am talking to Todd. Why am I talking to Todd? Probably just to anger myself.
At 4 I remember about the KPC, and I start to put some things on paper. I do this for a couple hours, pass out for a couple more, and wake up around 8. Over the past 50 hours, i have slept two. At 10:30 I show up at church, and teach. Poorly. I have to be home by 11:30 to take my (hungover) brother to work. In his drunken stupor he left a bunch of important things in his friend's car last night, and she took them home with her. He needs them for work. He asks me to drive out to newberg and get them for him. The time is now 12:00.
So i drive out to Newberg, and when i show up at jessica's apartment, she tells me that her car is at Aaron's place, which is a couple miles away. I have trouble finding both their places and jessica doesn't want to come with me to show me, so instead she gives me her car keys. i drive to aaron's, find her car, find my brother's crap, lock everything up, drive back to jessica's, drop off her keys, and start driving back to the Toyota dealership to drop eevrything off for Daniel. This brings us to 1:30 pm, 55.5 hours. I have to wait there because Daniel is test driving a vehicle. The same guy tries to sell me something three times in a row. He is cute but I am annoyed. I leave Daniel's crap with the receptionist and go home.
It is 2:00pm when I get there and my mom tells me not to sleep. I have to be at ethnos in a couple hours to set up the projector stuff. Instead we go out for coffee. Coffee turns into a long string of errands that make me want to shoot myself in the temple.
At 4:15 we get to ethnos. Set up. Sarah needs help getting some bread. I go to help her. Sermon. Music. Break (but not really). I am talking to Kris who I haven't seen in months. More talking in the sanctuary. I fall asleep and wake up on Todd's shoulder. hmmm. disoriented.
At 7:30 we tear down, and when we leave at 8:20 I am about to pass out. instead of going home, we go out to dinner, to kill some time before daniel has to be picked up from work, and I am falling asleep in my teriyaki chicken. We pick him up. I finally get home at 9:30. sleeping pills.
it is 10PM right now and I have slept two and a half of the past 64 hours. I think that math is right but it's so hard to say for sure.
sooooooooooooo tired
soooooooooooooooooooooooooo annoyed.
i want sleep. sleep sleep sleepsleppsleepslepeeelspeplelpesple
9am Saturday morning, Principles of Visual Communication (take two) commences. Four hours of solid design. I am running on no sleep and a banana for energy. After class I buy two textbooks and wait with my parents while they load our only car full of wood. It is 2:00pm. On the way home I talk to Nathan, he tells me it is my turn to teach at the KPC tomorrow. Crap. I have six hours of homework, easy, for PVC. More for math.
3:00 I am studying, with little or no break until dinner. after dinner more work, GRACEworks, tax work. I haven't even thought about the KPC. I am waiting for Daniel to call me to come pick him up from the bar he is at with his friends. I go to my friends apartment to get help with my math homework.
Daniel calls, I leave to get him, and that is a freaking ordeal. By the time I get him safely upstairs it is around 3am. Then I am talking to Todd. Why am I talking to Todd? Probably just to anger myself.
At 4 I remember about the KPC, and I start to put some things on paper. I do this for a couple hours, pass out for a couple more, and wake up around 8. Over the past 50 hours, i have slept two. At 10:30 I show up at church, and teach. Poorly. I have to be home by 11:30 to take my (hungover) brother to work. In his drunken stupor he left a bunch of important things in his friend's car last night, and she took them home with her. He needs them for work. He asks me to drive out to newberg and get them for him. The time is now 12:00.
So i drive out to Newberg, and when i show up at jessica's apartment, she tells me that her car is at Aaron's place, which is a couple miles away. I have trouble finding both their places and jessica doesn't want to come with me to show me, so instead she gives me her car keys. i drive to aaron's, find her car, find my brother's crap, lock everything up, drive back to jessica's, drop off her keys, and start driving back to the Toyota dealership to drop eevrything off for Daniel. This brings us to 1:30 pm, 55.5 hours. I have to wait there because Daniel is test driving a vehicle. The same guy tries to sell me something three times in a row. He is cute but I am annoyed. I leave Daniel's crap with the receptionist and go home.
It is 2:00pm when I get there and my mom tells me not to sleep. I have to be at ethnos in a couple hours to set up the projector stuff. Instead we go out for coffee. Coffee turns into a long string of errands that make me want to shoot myself in the temple.
At 4:15 we get to ethnos. Set up. Sarah needs help getting some bread. I go to help her. Sermon. Music. Break (but not really). I am talking to Kris who I haven't seen in months. More talking in the sanctuary. I fall asleep and wake up on Todd's shoulder. hmmm. disoriented.
At 7:30 we tear down, and when we leave at 8:20 I am about to pass out. instead of going home, we go out to dinner, to kill some time before daniel has to be picked up from work, and I am falling asleep in my teriyaki chicken. We pick him up. I finally get home at 9:30. sleeping pills.
it is 10PM right now and I have slept two and a half of the past 64 hours. I think that math is right but it's so hard to say for sure.
sooooooooooooo tired
soooooooooooooooooooooooooo annoyed.
i want sleep. sleep sleep sleepsleppsleepslepeeelspeplelpesple
real emotional things
i want to write about them but i'm so freaking aware of how accessible all this information is. all of the people i definitely don't want this information to get to would be the people to read it first.
but, well, here is the thing. I need to get it out anyway. so i will just write the basics and make it so vague no will know what the hell i'm talking about.
first off, i am the queen of impossible crushes. only mine aren't stupid trivial little crushes on people that i meet once or twice. they are intense, long-lasting, painful things that last years and years and only end when i am so hopelessly distressed that I finally just give up completely and hermit for a couple months while i'm recovering. it sounds stupid and emo i know, but i don't care. i am being honest. the more painful the crush is the longer it will last, the more intensely i will feel, and the worse it will be when it finally ends.
anyway, i say all of this because, well i am ridiculously upset right now for one. but also because i honestly do not understand how i can get myself into this same situaton repeatedly. or worse, how people can try and manipulate me (it's me. come on. i may not be the perfect person but i am a really sweet girl. and people seem to enjoy hurting me i swear, probably because it's so freaking easy. i practically beg for it).
maybe i am just too sensitive or something, i don't know.
people are just so bad and hurtful.
i hate this freaking guy.
but, well, here is the thing. I need to get it out anyway. so i will just write the basics and make it so vague no will know what the hell i'm talking about.
first off, i am the queen of impossible crushes. only mine aren't stupid trivial little crushes on people that i meet once or twice. they are intense, long-lasting, painful things that last years and years and only end when i am so hopelessly distressed that I finally just give up completely and hermit for a couple months while i'm recovering. it sounds stupid and emo i know, but i don't care. i am being honest. the more painful the crush is the longer it will last, the more intensely i will feel, and the worse it will be when it finally ends.
anyway, i say all of this because, well i am ridiculously upset right now for one. but also because i honestly do not understand how i can get myself into this same situaton repeatedly. or worse, how people can try and manipulate me (it's me. come on. i may not be the perfect person but i am a really sweet girl. and people seem to enjoy hurting me i swear, probably because it's so freaking easy. i practically beg for it).
maybe i am just too sensitive or something, i don't know.
people are just so bad and hurtful.
i hate this freaking guy.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
questions about GOD and the BIBLE
Ahhhh, my mind is mush. I don't know how David A. Lauer can write a 291-page text on design. I can't even read ten pages without wanting to break something. There is seriously an entire page about the Greyhound logo, and how it was redesigned because the original logo was too fat and Loewy wanted to convey more speed. AHHHHH.
Okay, to change the topic entirely, there is an intellectual struggle I face with reading my Bible. Here we go.
Recently I have been exploring different translations/paraphrases/etc, trying to find the meanings behind verses that I struggle with or don't understand. I find if I read something several times in several different translations I get a better understanding of the message than if I just read it in NIV (what I'm used to) and move on. I love to read (clarification: I'm not talking about the Bible there, I have crappy Bible-studying disciplines). I mean, I love to read in general; I love literature. I especially love poetic language and descriptive passages. What bothers me about the Bible is, in a lot of places I feel there should be better description of main events, the Bible leaves things pretty blank.
I have been thinking about this/annoyed by this for a while now, but I just had a conversation with my dad about Pastor Dave's preaching style and how he tends to extrapolate (I hope I spelled that right; I am too lazy to check) on passages from time to time. This has never bothered me personally because as a well-educated critical thinker I can sift through my knowledge of God/Biblical history/theology/whatever and weed out things that don't make sense or seem somehow wrong to me. At the best it helps me to engage and remember stories and lessons I have never paid attention to before, at the worst it sends me back to the scriptures to find an answer of my own. That's one of the things I like about hearing other peoples' interpretations of Scripture.
My dad was commenting on someone else we both know who has "such a respect for the Bible" that he would "end where the Scripture ends." AKA, he would not extrapolate. EVER, for any reason.
But this just flat out bugs me. Because some of the stories in the Bible are completely amazing, and the way they are written makes them sound boring as hell, and if preached to me verbatim I'd be like... sweet... so an entire nation wandered for 40 years in a desert... 5,000 people were converted... Jesus wept... A man was stoned to death, and then rasied from the dead... Jesus was beaten and crucified. Hmm. Nice. Okay, now on with my day.
In order for me to process those events, it takes extrapolation. It takes an intense amount of outside study. And maybe that is just for me, maybe other people get it in the one-liners. But uhhh, the description of the beatings and crucifixion as written VERBATIM in the bible mean NOTHING to me. It wasn't until I studied those in a cultural context that I actually understood the weight of those few sentences where the Bible pretty much just says, Jesus was crucified.
Anyway. What I don't understand about this, and what bothers me so much, is WHY the Bible has to be so vague and simplistic on such important matters. It seems like the most important things, the miraculous works of God, are the things that are stated like everyday events. And that bothers me so much.
So. for the time being, I am continuing my tradition of reading the Bible with a history textbook basically on hand to answer my cultural questions.
I have many other spiritual struggles I could be going into right now, but I will save those for another day. I am sharing my testimony at the KPC tomorrow, and it makes me nervous. I feel so much in the middle on so much of what I believe. I am young, I am still seeking the truth, and I am not satisfied with the place God occupies in my life right now. I refuse to speak with authority on relational matters as if I have any concrete understanding of them, because I don't feel that I do. I can't remember a time in my recent past (the last two or three years) that I have been walking confidently with the Lord. I have questions that still need working out, and that is a process. A journey, if you will. I am still in the middle of it, which is probably what I'll say to the kids tomorrow at church, and hopefully that will encourage them, because I don't want to be misleading about my faith in God.
hahaha so NOW I'm just procrastinating on my design/math homework. but I got some studying to do tonight... so this needs to end before I ramble for like 20 more minutes (that's how long it took me to type this)...
audioangel2 (2:27:16 PM): can i get the math assignment from you?
Viper57728 (2:27:22 PM): yeah
Viper57728 (2:27:38 PM): page 90-95 as many problems as you feel you need to do
Viper57728 (2:27:49 PM): I'm probably going to do... half a page... lmao
audioangel2 (2:28:00 PM): as many problems as i feel?
audioangel2 (2:28:07 PM): what the...?
Viper57728 (2:28:20 PM): yeah
Viper57728 (2:28:24 PM): our teacher is wack
audioangel2 (2:28:36 PM): yeah well. welcome to art school i guess
P.S.---(i don't FEEL like doing anything).
Okay, to change the topic entirely, there is an intellectual struggle I face with reading my Bible. Here we go.
Recently I have been exploring different translations/paraphrases/etc, trying to find the meanings behind verses that I struggle with or don't understand. I find if I read something several times in several different translations I get a better understanding of the message than if I just read it in NIV (what I'm used to) and move on. I love to read (clarification: I'm not talking about the Bible there, I have crappy Bible-studying disciplines). I mean, I love to read in general; I love literature. I especially love poetic language and descriptive passages. What bothers me about the Bible is, in a lot of places I feel there should be better description of main events, the Bible leaves things pretty blank.
I have been thinking about this/annoyed by this for a while now, but I just had a conversation with my dad about Pastor Dave's preaching style and how he tends to extrapolate (I hope I spelled that right; I am too lazy to check) on passages from time to time. This has never bothered me personally because as a well-educated critical thinker I can sift through my knowledge of God/Biblical history/theology/whatever and weed out things that don't make sense or seem somehow wrong to me. At the best it helps me to engage and remember stories and lessons I have never paid attention to before, at the worst it sends me back to the scriptures to find an answer of my own. That's one of the things I like about hearing other peoples' interpretations of Scripture.
My dad was commenting on someone else we both know who has "such a respect for the Bible" that he would "end where the Scripture ends." AKA, he would not extrapolate. EVER, for any reason.
But this just flat out bugs me. Because some of the stories in the Bible are completely amazing, and the way they are written makes them sound boring as hell, and if preached to me verbatim I'd be like... sweet... so an entire nation wandered for 40 years in a desert... 5,000 people were converted... Jesus wept... A man was stoned to death, and then rasied from the dead... Jesus was beaten and crucified. Hmm. Nice. Okay, now on with my day.
In order for me to process those events, it takes extrapolation. It takes an intense amount of outside study. And maybe that is just for me, maybe other people get it in the one-liners. But uhhh, the description of the beatings and crucifixion as written VERBATIM in the bible mean NOTHING to me. It wasn't until I studied those in a cultural context that I actually understood the weight of those few sentences where the Bible pretty much just says, Jesus was crucified.
Anyway. What I don't understand about this, and what bothers me so much, is WHY the Bible has to be so vague and simplistic on such important matters. It seems like the most important things, the miraculous works of God, are the things that are stated like everyday events. And that bothers me so much.
So. for the time being, I am continuing my tradition of reading the Bible with a history textbook basically on hand to answer my cultural questions.
I have many other spiritual struggles I could be going into right now, but I will save those for another day. I am sharing my testimony at the KPC tomorrow, and it makes me nervous. I feel so much in the middle on so much of what I believe. I am young, I am still seeking the truth, and I am not satisfied with the place God occupies in my life right now. I refuse to speak with authority on relational matters as if I have any concrete understanding of them, because I don't feel that I do. I can't remember a time in my recent past (the last two or three years) that I have been walking confidently with the Lord. I have questions that still need working out, and that is a process. A journey, if you will. I am still in the middle of it, which is probably what I'll say to the kids tomorrow at church, and hopefully that will encourage them, because I don't want to be misleading about my faith in God.
hahaha so NOW I'm just procrastinating on my design/math homework. but I got some studying to do tonight... so this needs to end before I ramble for like 20 more minutes (that's how long it took me to type this)...
audioangel2 (2:27:16 PM): can i get the math assignment from you?
Viper57728 (2:27:22 PM): yeah
Viper57728 (2:27:38 PM): page 90-95 as many problems as you feel you need to do
Viper57728 (2:27:49 PM): I'm probably going to do... half a page... lmao
audioangel2 (2:28:00 PM): as many problems as i feel?
audioangel2 (2:28:07 PM): what the...?
Viper57728 (2:28:20 PM): yeah
Viper57728 (2:28:24 PM): our teacher is wack
audioangel2 (2:28:36 PM): yeah well. welcome to art school i guess
P.S.---(i don't FEEL like doing anything).
21 and Invincible
TODAY IS DANIEL S 21ST BIRTHDAY
happy birthday daniel!!!!!!!!!!!!
i am jealous. i feel like i'm old enough to be 21. i am the most responsible kid EVER. i should be older than him.
i think my friend joe likes me, but i don't think i like him. I like someone else who doesn't like me for some reason. (DUMB. DUMB. DUMB.) Maybe I will write more about this later, if I'm bored and feeling like sharing, which i probably won't be.
I HAVE CLASS TOMORROW!!!!
well my figners are getting tired so i will catch you all later.
happy birthday daniel!!!!!!!!!!!!
i am jealous. i feel like i'm old enough to be 21. i am the most responsible kid EVER. i should be older than him.
i think my friend joe likes me, but i don't think i like him. I like someone else who doesn't like me for some reason. (DUMB. DUMB. DUMB.) Maybe I will write more about this later, if I'm bored and feeling like sharing, which i probably won't be.
I HAVE CLASS TOMORROW!!!!
well my figners are getting tired so i will catch you all later.
Friday, January 13, 2006
saturday mornings + principles of visual communication = uh-oh
so, i got my wish. i registered for classes today and i'm taking my two art classes, but, along with that, i'm taking math and argumentation and research.
:-)
i still want anatomy though.
:-)
i still want anatomy though.
more proof that i am my dad
the Ham
(47% dark, 53% spontaneous, 36% vulgar)
your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT
Your style's goofy, innocent and feel-good. Perfect for parties and for the dads who chaperone them(!). You can actually get away with corny jokes, and I bet your sense of humor is a guilty pleasure for your friends. People of your type are often the most approachable and popular people in their circle. Your simple & silly good-naturedness is immediately recognizable, and it sets you apart in this sarcastic world.
Your humor is most like: Will Ferrell, Will Smith
I don't mind being the next Will Ferrell. I'd probably have to gain a few pounds first though. And grow some chest hair...
speaking of funny though, my sister and i made a really chill shirt. I will post a pic of it when I can find the camera...
(47% dark, 53% spontaneous, 36% vulgar)
your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT
Your style's goofy, innocent and feel-good. Perfect for parties and for the dads who chaperone them(!). You can actually get away with corny jokes, and I bet your sense of humor is a guilty pleasure for your friends. People of your type are often the most approachable and popular people in their circle. Your simple & silly good-naturedness is immediately recognizable, and it sets you apart in this sarcastic world.
Your humor is most like: Will Ferrell, Will Smith
I don't mind being the next Will Ferrell. I'd probably have to gain a few pounds first though. And grow some chest hair...
speaking of funny though, my sister and i made a really chill shirt. I will post a pic of it when I can find the camera...
"i bleed when you shoot me in the chest plate"
I had a fantastic day, and here is why. I got a full night of sleep last night for the first time in... well as long as I can remember. I woke up at 9 am this morning. It was nice not having the purple circles under my eyes, or stumbling around the house confused all day...
BEST NEWS: I heard from my school and I get to go back tomorrow to register for classes. Unfortunately I have to meet with my department head, and she is not the nicest lady in the world. Another unfortunate thing is that I couldn't take a sleeping pill, because I was out late with Joe, so I will be up all night, and probably tired when I go in for my meetings tomorrow. to be honest, I'm just happy to be back. I'm ready to focus on something. I'm feeling motivated. Joe told me about the classes he is taking this quarter and I am mega jealous. I hate this gen ed stuff, but taking the good stuff, like audio 1, and the upper level dmp classes will be sweet. I won't get in this term, but I want to take some academic classes anyway (math, cultural studies, something... ANYTHING with a textbook...)
maybe i will take some classes at PSU. like ANATOMY LAB. I have been wanting to take that on the college level ever since i took it in high school. Anatomy & Physiology was the best class ever. I tried to buy a textbook on amazon once after i finished the class. just because i liked the subject.
i really should have been a biology major. or a literature major. i love literature.
i would have loved both of those things.
unfrotunately for me i have a strong sense of obligation and a firm grasp of the amount of suffering present in this world. so i am in art school becoming an independent documentarian instead of studying science. i do not regret this decision, but it is much, much harder.
I think i will take anatomy. maybe if i take a term off. or i will save up my paychecks and buy myself a textbook for fun. uhhhh... if anyone wants to buy me one, i would love you for it. any takers?
BEST NEWS: I heard from my school and I get to go back tomorrow to register for classes. Unfortunately I have to meet with my department head, and she is not the nicest lady in the world. Another unfortunate thing is that I couldn't take a sleeping pill, because I was out late with Joe, so I will be up all night, and probably tired when I go in for my meetings tomorrow. to be honest, I'm just happy to be back. I'm ready to focus on something. I'm feeling motivated. Joe told me about the classes he is taking this quarter and I am mega jealous. I hate this gen ed stuff, but taking the good stuff, like audio 1, and the upper level dmp classes will be sweet. I won't get in this term, but I want to take some academic classes anyway (math, cultural studies, something... ANYTHING with a textbook...)
maybe i will take some classes at PSU. like ANATOMY LAB. I have been wanting to take that on the college level ever since i took it in high school. Anatomy & Physiology was the best class ever. I tried to buy a textbook on amazon once after i finished the class. just because i liked the subject.
i really should have been a biology major. or a literature major. i love literature.
i would have loved both of those things.
unfrotunately for me i have a strong sense of obligation and a firm grasp of the amount of suffering present in this world. so i am in art school becoming an independent documentarian instead of studying science. i do not regret this decision, but it is much, much harder.
I think i will take anatomy. maybe if i take a term off. or i will save up my paychecks and buy myself a textbook for fun. uhhhh... if anyone wants to buy me one, i would love you for it. any takers?
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
.trevor.
seg.2. (S.C.A. ward)
monday, january 9th, 2006
Everyone hates waiting rooms.
But I hate them more than most other people, and today I hated this particular waiting room more than usual. It was painted a horrid shade of pink, the kind of color that would make you sick… if you weren’t already; which I was. I had been waiting almost a full hour, and read everything on the rack, including Parenting Magazine and The Business Journal. Now I was sitting with my arms crossed, leaning back on the (ridiculously uncomfortable) pink vinyl bench, watching the kid next to me pick his nose and wipe it on his jeans.
Pick. Wipe. Repeat.
Sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, he would sneak his finger into his mouth.
My mind was all over the place, trying to relax about the needles, x-rays and prescriptions I knew were coming. Anticipating my reasons for being here made my empty stomach drop to my ankles. I had not eaten; I had not slept. The purple circles under my eyes represented weeks of troubled thoughts; the beltless jeans hung low on my hips, sagging more than I remembered. I shivered under the layers of two sweatshirts and a thermal jacket.
Poor circulation.
It’s a curse.
The boy next to me was still picking away at his nose, stealthily sneaking his dirty little finger between two equally dirty little lips. As I looked on, I wondered if he was here for the same reason I was. If he was, I felt sorry for him.
Pick. Lick. Repeat.
The boy’s mother, a scrawny brown-haired woman totally immersed in a copy of People magazine, finally lifted her eyes up long enough to notice her son’s behavior. She shot her hand out just in time to intercept the finger on its short journey back to his mouth.
”Trevor! Didn’t I tell you not to do that? Honey, that will make you sick.”
She patted his knee and gave her son a quick, sad, smile, full of parental concern. I could tell she was nervous. Could tell by the look in her eyes.
For whatever reason, I felt a slight hint of jealousy.
I was trying not to focus on the empty seats stretching away from me on either side, or the fact that when I left this morning, no one even bothered to ask me where I was going.
No one cared.
It didn’t help that this waiting room, like all hospital waiting rooms, had triple the necessary seating. I guess this is because no one wants to sit next to the flu virus or strep throat, and as a general rule, adults will not take a seat less than two seats away from the next occupied chair. This provides enough space in case your neighbor suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, or spontaneously sneezes all over your shoulder. From that distance, people seem to feel safe.
I just felt abandoned.
At 10:36, the nurse came out with her clipboard… for the seventh time that morning. My heart was racing, fists clenched, knowing this had to finally be my name. I was subconsciously perched on the edge of the bench, my fingers tingling in anticipation. I was one step closer to getting the f*ck out of here.
“Trevor Berkstaff?”
Two seats away, Trevor withdrew his snotty finger from his nose in shock, and began to cry.
Smart little Trevor. He knew what was coming.
I wanted to cry too.
It took his mother a full five minutes to coax him off the bench. Burying his face in the vinyl upholstery, Trevor cried hard, and the seat was smeared with snot and tears. No promise of candy and no soothing words could comfort him. His screams grew louder and more desperate, and everyone in the waiting room just sat and stared. Even the nurse stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to help or wait patiently.
Finally, the mother reached down and whispered something softly into Trevor’s ear. His screaming slowly subsided and he nodded, face still buried in the pink vinyl.
”Okay, sweetie, give me your hand.”
Grabbing his grubby little fingers, she pulled Trevor up from the bench, and they marched together towards the door. Behind it there were probably the same tests, pills, and x-rays waiting for Trevor as were waiting for me. The last glimpse I caught of them as they disappeared was Trevor’s little hand, knuckles white with fear, holding onto his Mommy for comfort.
I felt very, very alone.
monday, january 9th, 2006
Everyone hates waiting rooms.
But I hate them more than most other people, and today I hated this particular waiting room more than usual. It was painted a horrid shade of pink, the kind of color that would make you sick… if you weren’t already; which I was. I had been waiting almost a full hour, and read everything on the rack, including Parenting Magazine and The Business Journal. Now I was sitting with my arms crossed, leaning back on the (ridiculously uncomfortable) pink vinyl bench, watching the kid next to me pick his nose and wipe it on his jeans.
Pick. Wipe. Repeat.
Sometimes, when he thought no one was looking, he would sneak his finger into his mouth.
My mind was all over the place, trying to relax about the needles, x-rays and prescriptions I knew were coming. Anticipating my reasons for being here made my empty stomach drop to my ankles. I had not eaten; I had not slept. The purple circles under my eyes represented weeks of troubled thoughts; the beltless jeans hung low on my hips, sagging more than I remembered. I shivered under the layers of two sweatshirts and a thermal jacket.
Poor circulation.
It’s a curse.
The boy next to me was still picking away at his nose, stealthily sneaking his dirty little finger between two equally dirty little lips. As I looked on, I wondered if he was here for the same reason I was. If he was, I felt sorry for him.
Pick. Lick. Repeat.
The boy’s mother, a scrawny brown-haired woman totally immersed in a copy of People magazine, finally lifted her eyes up long enough to notice her son’s behavior. She shot her hand out just in time to intercept the finger on its short journey back to his mouth.
”Trevor! Didn’t I tell you not to do that? Honey, that will make you sick.”
She patted his knee and gave her son a quick, sad, smile, full of parental concern. I could tell she was nervous. Could tell by the look in her eyes.
For whatever reason, I felt a slight hint of jealousy.
I was trying not to focus on the empty seats stretching away from me on either side, or the fact that when I left this morning, no one even bothered to ask me where I was going.
No one cared.
It didn’t help that this waiting room, like all hospital waiting rooms, had triple the necessary seating. I guess this is because no one wants to sit next to the flu virus or strep throat, and as a general rule, adults will not take a seat less than two seats away from the next occupied chair. This provides enough space in case your neighbor suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, or spontaneously sneezes all over your shoulder. From that distance, people seem to feel safe.
I just felt abandoned.
At 10:36, the nurse came out with her clipboard… for the seventh time that morning. My heart was racing, fists clenched, knowing this had to finally be my name. I was subconsciously perched on the edge of the bench, my fingers tingling in anticipation. I was one step closer to getting the f*ck out of here.
“Trevor Berkstaff?”
Two seats away, Trevor withdrew his snotty finger from his nose in shock, and began to cry.
Smart little Trevor. He knew what was coming.
I wanted to cry too.
It took his mother a full five minutes to coax him off the bench. Burying his face in the vinyl upholstery, Trevor cried hard, and the seat was smeared with snot and tears. No promise of candy and no soothing words could comfort him. His screams grew louder and more desperate, and everyone in the waiting room just sat and stared. Even the nurse stood awkwardly by the door, unsure whether to help or wait patiently.
Finally, the mother reached down and whispered something softly into Trevor’s ear. His screaming slowly subsided and he nodded, face still buried in the pink vinyl.
”Okay, sweetie, give me your hand.”
Grabbing his grubby little fingers, she pulled Trevor up from the bench, and they marched together towards the door. Behind it there were probably the same tests, pills, and x-rays waiting for Trevor as were waiting for me. The last glimpse I caught of them as they disappeared was Trevor’s little hand, knuckles white with fear, holding onto his Mommy for comfort.
I felt very, very alone.
Monday, January 09, 2006
packt like sardines in a crushd tin box
there must be more than this.
spent all day running around to doctors appointments and spent all evening working and trying to gather money for graceworks. i was supposed to hang out with a couple people today, but that didn't happen. (big surprise there.)
all my real friends are back in their real colleges, which leaves me trying to work out stuff with the art institute so i can continue this term. which i'm not thrilled about.
i feel really trapped. i know so few people here right now, and it seems like a lot of my relationships are falling apart. this is almost completely my fault, but it's still a lot more disappointment than I can handle right now.
I was telling daniel last night that I feel like maybe I was spoiled by my friends in high school. The truth is, I'm incredibly sensitive. And nothing bothers me more than the slow breakdown of friendships. I hate the feeling that people have lost interest in me. And here is another thing that is true: I am one of the most loyal friends you could ask for. I stick by people no matter what. I always try to make things work. This partly ties in with what I wrote a couple posts back... why I get hurt a lot. I never let people go when I know I should, and it can be really damaging. I end up chasing them trying to fix things... ugh. I feel stupid and unwanted.
!@#$%^&*() I am bitter and done with this for now.
spent all day running around to doctors appointments and spent all evening working and trying to gather money for graceworks. i was supposed to hang out with a couple people today, but that didn't happen. (big surprise there.)
all my real friends are back in their real colleges, which leaves me trying to work out stuff with the art institute so i can continue this term. which i'm not thrilled about.
i feel really trapped. i know so few people here right now, and it seems like a lot of my relationships are falling apart. this is almost completely my fault, but it's still a lot more disappointment than I can handle right now.
I was telling daniel last night that I feel like maybe I was spoiled by my friends in high school. The truth is, I'm incredibly sensitive. And nothing bothers me more than the slow breakdown of friendships. I hate the feeling that people have lost interest in me. And here is another thing that is true: I am one of the most loyal friends you could ask for. I stick by people no matter what. I always try to make things work. This partly ties in with what I wrote a couple posts back... why I get hurt a lot. I never let people go when I know I should, and it can be really damaging. I end up chasing them trying to fix things... ugh. I feel stupid and unwanted.
!@#$%^&*() I am bitter and done with this for now.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
silly rabbit, tricks are for kids.
I have had my cell phone, my computer off for three and a half days.
The reason why (or one of them), is I broke up with my boyfriend last Thursday. Nobody knew we were dating, and nobody cares. But I am pretty upset about it. I want to put it into words to describe it to someone and get it out, but I’m pretty sure I can’t. Eventually someone I know will read this and ask me about it, probably more out of curiosity than concern… and at that point I will be so ready to talk that I will spill my guts to them, genuine friend or not.
After we broke up (and, I should mention for the record I had also just had a very emotional conversation with my parents), I took the car out to downtown Portland and walked around alone. I ignored everyone. I drove out past student housing, past the industrial district, out to Highway 30. When I got there, I tried to find my way home on Cornelius Pass. Somewhere that road hooks up with Skyline, and when I found a long stretch of deserted road, I rolled down all the windows in my car and shouted every obscenity I could think of at the top of my lungs.
It was extremely therapeutic.
An hour after leaving Highway 30, I found myself on it again, this time in Scappoose instead of Portland. By the time I finally got home, I had been gone two and half hours, instead of the 30-45 minutes I was initially expecting. And that entire time I had been COMPLETELY alone. It was… freeing.
But so many things about this relationship, and that day, have made me think. Friday night I watched The Firm with my family. There is a character in that movie who reminds me so much of so many people that I love. His name is Avery, and he is an older lawyer the main character works for. At one point, he is trying to seduce his colleague’s wife, and he says, “I have a very bad reputation, you know. I tend to run around. The truth is… I love my wife. But for some reason, she seems to have lost interest in me. I can’t blame her, I have too. But ever since her, I have not been able to feel that way about anyone else. …But I’d like to. I miss that feeling a lot.” The way he said it totally broke my heart. I know I am young, but I believe people can find love like that when they are young. And I’ve seen the effects of losing someone you love.
In fact, I’ve felt it firsthand, in a way no one else I know can even begin to imagine. The feelings, I’m sure, are so different for everyone. But it makes me so sad.
I know some amazing, amazing people, who are alone, and dysfunctional, because of having their heart broken, or losing someone they loved. Just like everyone else, I keep trying to get somewhere near happiness with someone new. It’s just not happening. We are all so broken. Sometimes, I just feel hopeless.
Even if we have the capacity to love someone else with that same intensity (I believe I do), there seem to be insurmountable obstacles on every path. I think about entering into a relationship with someone, and it just doesn’t seem fair. At some point my heart will be in it, but for now, a part of me still remains in the relationship I’ve lost.
(it should be clarified: I am not talking about the boyfriend I just broke up with. I am talking about Mike.)
I feel like giving up, and that’s basically what this last breakup was about. I give up. Why try, why be someone’s sloppy seconds? Why let someone else be mine?
One thing that hurt me a lot recently, and this is only mildly related, is that a few nights ago my best friend spent part of the night at our house, and we were up all night talking with some friends and my little sister. At one point, Becca made a comment about who she should date. And my best friend said, “Every girl has this one guy that’s been their best friend for years, and stuck with them through everything, and always been there. And let me tell you, that is the one. He is the one you go for.”
I nearly burst into tears.
Yeah, I spent two years freaking in love with my amazing best friend, who, by the way, has the world’s most amazing girlfriend.
I spent five years in love with another best friend, and where is he now?
And. I know he didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.
But, it hurt like a bitch.
My point is, people hurt people. Relationships don’t work. I get stressed out, and I enter casual relationships that are guaranteed to hurt me. It happens every time, and yet I’m still making this effort because I’m hoping someone else is hoping for a second chance at all this shit too. And someday maybe we’ll actually TRY.
The reason why (or one of them), is I broke up with my boyfriend last Thursday. Nobody knew we were dating, and nobody cares. But I am pretty upset about it. I want to put it into words to describe it to someone and get it out, but I’m pretty sure I can’t. Eventually someone I know will read this and ask me about it, probably more out of curiosity than concern… and at that point I will be so ready to talk that I will spill my guts to them, genuine friend or not.
After we broke up (and, I should mention for the record I had also just had a very emotional conversation with my parents), I took the car out to downtown Portland and walked around alone. I ignored everyone. I drove out past student housing, past the industrial district, out to Highway 30. When I got there, I tried to find my way home on Cornelius Pass. Somewhere that road hooks up with Skyline, and when I found a long stretch of deserted road, I rolled down all the windows in my car and shouted every obscenity I could think of at the top of my lungs.
It was extremely therapeutic.
An hour after leaving Highway 30, I found myself on it again, this time in Scappoose instead of Portland. By the time I finally got home, I had been gone two and half hours, instead of the 30-45 minutes I was initially expecting. And that entire time I had been COMPLETELY alone. It was… freeing.
But so many things about this relationship, and that day, have made me think. Friday night I watched The Firm with my family. There is a character in that movie who reminds me so much of so many people that I love. His name is Avery, and he is an older lawyer the main character works for. At one point, he is trying to seduce his colleague’s wife, and he says, “I have a very bad reputation, you know. I tend to run around. The truth is… I love my wife. But for some reason, she seems to have lost interest in me. I can’t blame her, I have too. But ever since her, I have not been able to feel that way about anyone else. …But I’d like to. I miss that feeling a lot.” The way he said it totally broke my heart. I know I am young, but I believe people can find love like that when they are young. And I’ve seen the effects of losing someone you love.
In fact, I’ve felt it firsthand, in a way no one else I know can even begin to imagine. The feelings, I’m sure, are so different for everyone. But it makes me so sad.
I know some amazing, amazing people, who are alone, and dysfunctional, because of having their heart broken, or losing someone they loved. Just like everyone else, I keep trying to get somewhere near happiness with someone new. It’s just not happening. We are all so broken. Sometimes, I just feel hopeless.
Even if we have the capacity to love someone else with that same intensity (I believe I do), there seem to be insurmountable obstacles on every path. I think about entering into a relationship with someone, and it just doesn’t seem fair. At some point my heart will be in it, but for now, a part of me still remains in the relationship I’ve lost.
(it should be clarified: I am not talking about the boyfriend I just broke up with. I am talking about Mike.)
I feel like giving up, and that’s basically what this last breakup was about. I give up. Why try, why be someone’s sloppy seconds? Why let someone else be mine?
One thing that hurt me a lot recently, and this is only mildly related, is that a few nights ago my best friend spent part of the night at our house, and we were up all night talking with some friends and my little sister. At one point, Becca made a comment about who she should date. And my best friend said, “Every girl has this one guy that’s been their best friend for years, and stuck with them through everything, and always been there. And let me tell you, that is the one. He is the one you go for.”
I nearly burst into tears.
Yeah, I spent two years freaking in love with my amazing best friend, who, by the way, has the world’s most amazing girlfriend.
I spent five years in love with another best friend, and where is he now?
And. I know he didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.
But, it hurt like a bitch.
My point is, people hurt people. Relationships don’t work. I get stressed out, and I enter casual relationships that are guaranteed to hurt me. It happens every time, and yet I’m still making this effort because I’m hoping someone else is hoping for a second chance at all this shit too. And someday maybe we’ll actually TRY.
if i don't get some sleep soon, there will be violence.
there's a feeling you get when you're really sick or have just thrown up, and you're lying there exhausted and feeling terrible. the feeling is like, "i want to cry right now, but i lack the energy and the hydration." instead you moan and make the shuddering noise like you're crying, when in fact you aren't.
i associate this noise with misery.
i am feeling like making this noise right now.
i associate this noise with misery.
i am feeling like making this noise right now.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Monday, January 02, 2006
more of the same?
god and i
are in a funny place right now.
and when my mind settles down,
i will try to explain it...
PUBLISHED POETRY
little white stitches
bind together the pages
of a soul poured out on paper
a thousand dirty fingers
browse through them in a bookstore
before replacing it on the shelf.
little black words
spell out the desires of a fragile, speechless heart
and wish with all their might
you'd be the one to understand me.
are in a funny place right now.
and when my mind settles down,
i will try to explain it...
PUBLISHED POETRY
little white stitches
bind together the pages
of a soul poured out on paper
a thousand dirty fingers
browse through them in a bookstore
before replacing it on the shelf.
little black words
spell out the desires of a fragile, speechless heart
and wish with all their might
you'd be the one to understand me.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
blood and confessions
the words escape my lips,
and, less than poetic,
hit their mark with a tear-stained glare.
beneath the surface of this scream
the blood, the sweat, the broken teeth;
there's nothing picture-perfect,
nothing to love,
only life beating through empty veins.
this image in my head is distant,
is wrong;
this rush of love from a weeping wound,
and though you tell me this is pain
... i only half believe you.
these scars have become
a source of pride and shame,
a pathetic transparency i meant to hide behind.
and here is this inescapable addiction,
baring its razor-sharp claws to perfect skin
and this little girl spends all her energy
fighting demons twice her size.
... i do this all alone.
and, less than poetic,
hit their mark with a tear-stained glare.
beneath the surface of this scream
the blood, the sweat, the broken teeth;
there's nothing picture-perfect,
nothing to love,
only life beating through empty veins.
this image in my head is distant,
is wrong;
this rush of love from a weeping wound,
and though you tell me this is pain
... i only half believe you.
these scars have become
a source of pride and shame,
a pathetic transparency i meant to hide behind.
and here is this inescapable addiction,
baring its razor-sharp claws to perfect skin
and this little girl spends all her energy
fighting demons twice her size.
... i do this all alone.
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