May. edit.

I should do this more I actually feel the slightest bit better.

May.

Therapy is going interestingly.

I had a very bad bout, managed to white knuckle hold on and not die, lived in the liminal space that is not-quite-depression, but not-quite-normalcy for a few weeks, then a couple of days of honest to god good mood. I don't think I was properly thankful for them.

It's back already and I feel like I barely had any time to recover myself from the last time. I already feel tired, I already am struggling to shower, and brush my teeth, and sleep and get up and eat like a human- and I have, in essence, a personal chef making sure I eat.

I want very, very much to do the things I am supposed to do.
I'm supposed to get moving, because it's good for my brain chemicals; I'm supposed to do my homework because, don't I WANT to pass my classes and graduate nursing school!? I'm supposed to be getting rid of things, de-cluttering, vacuuming, showering, walking, having sex, enjoying being a part of a loving perfect couple, I'm supposed to be taking care of my animals, and dusting and wiping down counters and cleaning the bathroom. I'm supposed to get up and log into work on time and actually do my job. I'm supposed to be happy and be enjoying the bounty that is my life, that I have worked hard to shape.

I'm NOT supposed to be taking naps, being mean to my partner, being nonstop cranky, browsing pinterest, online shopping for things I don't really need with the money I don't have.

In counseling, we talk a lot about reframing things from what you're "supposed to do" which will be met with rebellion, into things you "want" to do because that is more holistically motivating.

I struggle with this, because I have for so long been able to strong-arm function out of a depleted brain and body, such that it is reflexive to say "I need to clean up this dump because I'm an unlovable slob who absolutely must get their shit together and pick up their damn mail from everywhere." instead of "I want to live in a clean house, so I will pick up my papers."

Sometimes it's easy to do things I don't want to do. Sometimes it's a fight. I almost always win though, I can manipulate, cajole, bribe or force myself to do just about anything. The one hard and fast rule-when the thing is accomplished, you do not get to congratulate yourself- because you shouldn't get congratulations for things you are supposed to do.

I think often that I am doing a good job at functioning- I'm staying clean enough, I'm keeping house enough, I'm reading enough of the books and studying enough to slide by so no one comes and picks at the cracks. It is utterly disappointing when this is revealed to not be the case, and my best effort to fly incognito has failed. People start asking if I'm alright, and "I'm fine, of course. I just didn't sleep well."

What I really want now is some time completely left alone. I'm tired of having animals, and I'm tired of having someone breath audibly near me, and I'm tired of another person needing my energy and affection. I am getting hit with drowning floods of self hatred so deep and profound it has made me feel almost bullet proof- my life could explode right now and I don't even think it would register. I'm not even mentally in my body most of the time anyway. I wake up and I walk on because other people expect me to be there when I am needed, on-call like. I have deadlines, due dates, expectations that I am holding, and I cannot put them down and fail. I literally do not know what would happen to me if I put them down.

I see the collateral damage of my depression- I have a sad partner who misses me and I can only imagine wishes I were happier and more engaged or involved in any way in our relationship. I don't want to be touched, or comforted, or talked to. I don't want to laugh, or make love, or go for a walk. I don't want to be seen or gestured to or interacted with. I live with someone who desperately wants to do those things, and wants to help me feel better. I have someone who loves me so much, and often I really wish they wouldn't love me quite so much. It hurts to be letting them down so often and so much when you can only have the worst parts of yourself facing outward.

What I would really like, what I really desperately want, is to be left profoundly alone to break in peace.

Depression and exercise.

Everyone hates quarantine, but you know who LOVES quarantine?

Depression. Depression loves quarantine like a fat kid loves cake. Depression loves quarantine like plants love the sun.

I was doing so well- I was taking my meds every day. I was sleeping 8 hours every night. I was on top of my studies. I was employed. I was paying attention to my diet and trying to be a mindful eater.
I had begun exercising in January and had been keeping it up DESPITE NOT WANTING TO for almost three full months- I mean. This is huge for me, a lifelong couch potato (except that fluke where I joined rowing team in middle school and got jacked at 14, despite hating it the entire time and once fainting while running and being screamed at by a coach with a megaphone). I finally accepted that one of the last honestly untried things to try to beat up my depression was exercise, so I was planning its fair shot. So many people are like "exercise saved my life, and it helps you focus, and after a hard workout you get this euphoria and you feel so proud, like you really pushed yourself." Some of these people include my partner. They include people I admire. They include my gloriously slim classmates. I began Nursing school on campus in January, and immediately-cold turkey-changed my schedule and made a plan to set myself up for success.

I made a schedule: I would leave work and proceed directly to the gym M-T-Th. I would workout for as long as I could stand to be present in the gym space, then I would shower and get changed and go study. I would then go to night class, then go home and fall asleep.

I gathered supplies: I procured things to make my shower experience in a public school gym manageable. Extra hair ties. My sneakers would live at school in my locker. I have shampoo, conditioner, a separate bottle of lotion for my face, deodorant, sunscreen, (all the things I need to feel human after working out) live in my locker because I didn't want to  be carrying tons of things back and forth.

I set expectations: DO this three times a week, do not give up (because that's failing, and disappointing). This is good for your health, your self care, your mental health. DO NOT OVER DO. Do not push yourself so hard that you cry in front of other grown adults as you drag your toddler brain into the gym where it doesn't want to go. Don't pull muscles. Don't self destruct. BUILD!

SO in January, after week two, I implemented the plan. Then, I waited patiently for my results. I pushed and pushed and pushed- carefully, tentatively. I went to classes, I studied, I worked, and always I pushed. Looking back, I didn't push for a very long time- three months hardly seems like a blip in the life, but it felt like ETERNITY. In my mind, I was wishing for a nice stable core, triceps that could help me turn a patient without hurting myself, biceps that could brace a coughing person. You know, career oriented fitness goals. Not to put my back out in my first clinical assignment. 

I had mini mental breakdowns, cajoled, bribed and bullied myself into staying at the gym and not giving up and eating chocolate. I bragged about going to the gym, thinking this would definitely make it so my brain would be too ashamed to skip a workout day. I started to enjoy my showers at the gym (a whole separate nest of adders involving self care and my depression), but I still merely tolerated or abhorrently suffered through my workouts. I found the ergometer, and while not enjoyable, I knew this was an exercise I could do- from my rowing days. Hated it then, still don't love it, but it is the least evil machine in the gym. Like a dog that bites, but usually doesn't bite YOU specifically.

***

Part of me genuinely questions if depression itself is what stops all the glorious ya-ya hippie post workout bullshit from happening to me EVER. Thinking about this lately since I'm locked down in quarantine- I have not always been a potato. I've been in shape in my living memory. I have had a flat stomach, and biceps, I have been able to walk 13 miles without flinching, and I have never once in my life felt "euphoric" or "refreshed" or heaven forbid "energized" at the end of a workout. I do not think I have the chemicals necessary for that. The closest I get is feeling dizzy, woozy, or faint.

When I was 14, I was in shape because to join a team and be the only one NOT in shape, was shameful. There was someone following up on you, other team members would tattle if you shorted a workout. Your coach would be disappointed in you. SHE WOULD YELL AT YOU, while you ran (or in my case, pathetically jogged). Even if you cried. She would start an entire set of calisthenics over because YOUR FEET SHAMEFULLY touched the ground while the other team members perfectly hovered their feet 2 inches off the floor, no matter how much their legs shook. So I suffered, but I had a team, and victoriously, I was in shape. 

With a lot of time to think, I have naturally drawn some conclusions. My lifelong hatred of exercise was not changed in three months, despite my best intentions and my plans for a successful exercise routine. My workouts in the last three months have been and are still driven by a self destructive narrative of me fighting to make myself better, but by using the most abusive, sharp tools available for motivation:

Why sharp tools? I run faster when sharp things are after me, especially when I can't hide first. Ask anyone who's been up against Freddie Kruger. Sharp things man-you will run like the wind. How does this narrative work? It starts out pretty innocuously. You will step forward a lot faster if you know that stepping backward lands you on a spike of desolate self-hatred.

Behold, a guide on chasing yourself with sharp things, to watch yourself run at a school gym:

Before:
pep talk: YOU ARE GOING TO EXERCISE. This is gonna be good for you. Gonna stop you from dying as young. Lots of people enjoy this. Maybe you can get there, if you just don't give up. I mean like. Leggings in public. You could do that maybe, if you were a little more in shape. ALSO because sharp thing- YOU ARE FAT; DON'T EVER FORGET, YOU ARE FAT. Seriously there is no part of you that doesn't jiggle, what on earth have you been eating. So you know- hold onto that for a minute.

During:
1) I pick this exercise/ machine/ video I will follow along with.
2) This hurts and I can't breathe.
3) I hate that other people can see me because-sharp thing- I feel fat and out of control.
4) I have forgotten why I thought I could do this. I hate whoever convinced me to do this (me). 
5) I am humiliated that I cannot do EVEN THREE OF THESE reps. I genuinely don't understand how to simplify this to my ability. I have no ability.   
6) I will just die fat, really that's starting to look like the best viable option. 
7) NOW RALLY. You HAVE to do this, HEART DISEASE, REMEMBER? That small tiny part of you that doesn't actually want you to die? I know it hasn't spoken up in the last hour since you got out of your car, but somewhere in your brain there is a part of you that loves you and is scared you are going to die if you don't make yourself do this. SO DO IT.  Grab your sharp thing: It is statistically unlikely this will actually kill you even if you red-line your heart rate- you're 31. I don't even think you can move fast enough to red-line a 31 year old heart. GET A GRIP. Proceed with said grip for arbitrary amount of time until a rational taskmaster in your brain declares, "ENOUGH, BE FREE" (Is it the voice of God? Is it just you yelling in a funny accent? Who knows).

8) Everything hurts and you can't breathe = Success. Go shower. Sharp thing: You're gross. And very sweaty. And disturbingly red in the face. Not unlike a tomato. Mentally prepare yourself to repeat this experience every two days for the rest of your life. Sharp thing: Absolutely feel free to add anything off the a la carte menu on your way to the shower; That you can feel your heart in your throat and eyes at the same time, that you still aren't meeting recommended daily activity needs, that everything jiggles and is sore. Don't forget- guilt yourself as you enter the locker room that you're SUPPOSED TO FEEL only love for your potato body, and only positive vibes, because you're some sort of warrior...princess...? Like a properly skinny and empowered woman. *side eye*

Maybe my dreams and aspirations of exercise being enjoyed, reaping feelings of success, peace and good will after a workout were just bullshit and what I should really have been focused on was, "This may never feel good but it will keep you feeling SOMETHING."

I didn't give up now that I'm stuck in quarantine, but, I'm also not pulling 3K on an erg either. I'm doing 15 minute pilates videos with a theraband every third or fourth day once the guilt of NOT doing that builds up to intolerable levels. It both feels and looks pretty pathetic, and true to form, I hate it. AND I'm STILL NOT MEETING daily recommended fitness levels. 

Rabbit hole

I began listening to the My Favorite Murder podcast, and it’s amazing and satisfying and very very dark, but also bitingly funny sometimes. Super suitable for the place I’m in right now. My Therp was out of the methylated folate I was taking and it’s  been about a month: I’m definitely feeling it- or something else isn’t right. My brain is screaming out for dark content, so I’m not surprised that I wrapped up in the warm blanket of psychopathic killers, true crime documentaries and weird horrible medical documentaries: thalidomide, look it up.

The down side of listening to true crime murder stories is that you find out a lot of killers have similar issues - head trauma/injury while young, narcissistic personalities, links to smaller crime and family violence or sexual violence and substance abuse etc. REMIND YOU OF ANYONE? Yes, you start to see it everywhere. I’m basically petrified and having nightmares and horrible fantasies that roll through my brain like a movie in the background of everyday life. Not a fun place to be; I feel like it isn’t an issue of “if” so much as an issue of “when” a more serious incident occurs. I may type some of them here as short horror stories, because supposedly when you’re bothered by something it helps to write it out. Write it to right it, or something like that.

I’m out of shape and I feel stressed and vulnerable, incapable of self defense. I feel so scared, but I’ve been unwilling to put it out there straight. I’m supposed to be practicing sitting with my negative emotions and sadness and fear so I don’t need to use humor as an ultimate defense mechanism. My stories about how I’m terrified my friend will die or I have a difficult relationship with myself shouldn’t be told with a gleeful smile. Those things aren’t funny at all and I don’t think they are, but I can’t talk about them without sounding like it’s a hilarious story and making absolute light. The truth is so heavy, I can only point at it on the ground over there and I would never think to pick it up or hold it to me.

Last night I couldn’t sleep, I was thinking about family and friends and fear and it all caught in my throat; I couldn’t sleep, then I couldn’t breathe. I recorded a message to a friend I am worried about. In doing so, I caught a lot of  things I need to keep investigating about myself, because I was half awake I didn’t remember what I said and listened to it just now.

The sleepy recording begins, “It is late and I am tired. But I just wanted to tell you how...disappointed I am that you don’t ...care that people love you, and that you don’t want to take care of yourself.  And that every time you give up it makes me feel like giving up. Like everything I’m trying to do doesn’t matter. I wish I could tell you that your brain lies to you; it tells you that you’re not attractive and no one could ever love you. It tells you that you’re smart, but you’re not smart enough. You’re not brave enough. You’re not driven enough and you can’t do it. And I wish that I could tell you that you’re wrong but mine says the same thing everyday. That I’m not good enough, that everything is my fault. So... I just wanted to tell you that I’m uh...really disappointed . That it really hurts me. It really sucks because people really love you a lot and you don’t seem to care... at all.” I directed this at someone else, but upon listening in the light of day with a clearer head, it’s pretty obviously about the things I’m struggling with. I slept like a damn baby after I recorded this, but still woke up exhausted.

Why can “no one love me” and “I don’t deserve love”, when it is evidenced that many people do indeed love me? Why am I “never good enough”, why am I “not enough” when I have proven time and time again that I am MORE than enough? In fact some people have said that I’m too much *bad joke* .

I’ve been out ahead of the depression for weeks, maybe months without realizing it. Just long enough to lose it around the corner. I forgot the feeling of its sharp claws in my hair as I bolt out of reach, a near miss. It’s tracking me now, gaining on me, it can smell my fear. I’m tired, and I’m scared of what I will be like if it catches me again. To be perfectly over dramatic, in the last two weeks it seems more and more like what will I do WHEN it catches me, because that fucker is definitely coming for me.


This is the part where I shudder and realize it never left; it’s been in the room with me the whole time, right?

June 2018: a stalemate

June of 2018: I'm now 29.

Researching nursing schools. Well, telling people I am researching nursing schools while really avoiding it because I'm a lifelong procrastinator.

I work in accounts payable. It's not a dream job but I like my coworkers.
Same apartment, same boyfriend, same cats. We now feed them better and they have a cat fountain we don't clean enough. I fluctuate between being a great and the worst cat guardian.

The primary arguments in our house are about: family, money, sex, chores, and how annoying our neighbors are. We keep talking about buying a house and getting away from the city noise- but we can walk to so much food to waste our money on. Someday maybe there'll be a dog and kids in the house we'll inevitably buy eventually.

I've been sewing a lot of garments in the last three years, and hubs got me a sewing machine. I'm planning a trip to New Orleans which I am hoping will be...not stressful. All older cousins are married now, so that's...no pressure.

I'm seeing all the mental health professionals and I'm medicated to help treat my anxiety and depression, a.k.a. the source of many a ranty deep dark musing. They make the blog posts a little intriguing, but everyday life a challenge so, trying out something new. Three mental health people have told me to focus on "mindfulness" which I am feeling a strong repulsion to. Mindfulness makes me queasy, which I guess...recognizing that...is mindful. I dunno, it's so circular and dumb and confusing. AND foolproof because apparently mindful people know the secret to happiness *glares into space*.

Working on pursuing bigger things and 'being my own happiness' and other lame things people put on tee shirts; Making some tee shirts as well with fabric paint. My house is a permanent hoarding disaster, half my plants from the last post in 2015 are dead, though the orchids are still alive remarkably.

found an old list of Goals on my laptop - hilareous

I made this list when I was 21, forgot about it, lived my life- here are the results. Commentary provided by my currently 26 year old self. Lesson: life looks different after college. Very different. 

selfish life goals: (The title itself is pretty telling. why am I selfish for having life goals besides " take care of parents, make sure brother isn't in jail. ")

2 years: by age 23

drive. WIN 26

learn to drive a standard. FAIL. We also sold our only standard in a really sketchy turn of events, and I'll have to rely on the charity of friends if I ever want to learn this. You know to be a race car driver. 26

save $3,000. EH I'm sure at one time or another I've accomplished this, but it hasn't been steady because EH life. 26

get a car (a standard, preferably used, preferably in decent shape.) IT'S an automatic 2000 Honda Civic and it's my Dad's, BUT I GUESS WIN because I put gas in it 26

go to graduate school. FAIL 26

get certified to teach. FAIL 26 (not really sure I want to do this anymore anyway.)

get an apartment. (with danielle?) WIN 26 plus its with a man and there's CATS in it.

grow orchids and expand my plant collection. SORTA WIN 26 I have two small orchids- they don't have flowers because my cats ate them, but they are far from dead. 

build a/ several terrarium(s). FAIL 26 Although a guest did mistake my ratchet dried up fish tank as a terrarium, when in reality the fish died last year and I just let it be a fancy humidifier for the living room till it was dry. so YES FAIL.

5 years: by age 26 THis oughta be good.

gyotaku. NOT YET 26 I'm going to buy a smelly scaly fish and do this. Remember, freeze the fish so its not stinky.

go to NCECA ( means at least 500$ investment) WIN WIN 26 I did this!! I got to stay with the beautiful talented Lauren Scales and meet her wonderful godsend of a family, meet up with some awesome college friends and get re-inspired to be creative! Went to lectures, saw galleries, bought mugs (one's already broken). 

take more ceramics classes, work more on the wheel. SORTA 26 I took one post college, the quality was meh. 

become a teacher, and be good at it. FAIL 26 ...just nope.

get a fridge big enough to support owning the following:

any pitcher plants I fancy. NOPE HAVE CATS INSTEAD 26

Venus flytraps. CATS 26

build an indoor greenhouse to support new tropical species. DID I MENTION CATS 26

get an apartment for me and my plants and my indoor greenhouse. SORTA BUT WITH MORE CATS 26

10 years. by age 31

see the pacific. plant shop there. Family and friends on the West coast, Buttering up in progress.

get a wheel. DONE BITCH. NOW TO USE IT. 26

build a kiln. looking into buying one from a rundown elementary school, you know for one of my many hobbies.

build a press. 

get a dog.

train that dog to be an awesome one. DO CATS COUNT?26

 build an awesome outdoor greenhouse. 

take Jacquelyn's little one on a trip. THERES THREE NOW good luck with this HAHAHA 26

SO this is how I thought life would look, and honestly a lot has changed, I have two cats, a live in boyfriend, three neices (!) and a new nephew who I adore. I do not draw, paint, scult, or throw enough anymore. I make two prints per year- coming from someone who used to bust out printmaking for 8-12 hours at a time, this actually makes me really sad. Overall I have learned that when you don't have a studio space, life is not kind to the arts. I have take nup a little digital photography and some REALLY REALLY basic photoshop skills, because I have access to a camera and my desktop has the software, but I miss the grand gestures and the big paintings and the heavy metals. cats and oil paint aren't best friends. I also really miss questing for knowledge, like we were out the other day and I couldn't remember the name of this portrait painter- I felt like everything I said I was dredging up from years of dust, and I feel like I haven't learned or looked at anything new in a long time, getting a case of the stale brain. 

NEW FASCINATION WITH TICHELS

found out this is a thing

A Tichel (yiddish for scarf) is a head covering worn by jewish married women who keep their hair under wraps for modesty's sake. Most of what I've read seems to point to the fact that being modest helps people not be distracted by all your boobs hanging out and all your skin showing so they can look at your face and understand what you are saying. These tichels and turbans can get incredibly intricate and are made with many textures of scarves, often wrapped over a shaper and/or headband to keep errant hairs tucked away, prevent slippage, and add the illusion of more hair, or a large full bun under the scarves. Looking at some of the intricate styles, I can understand how a foundation would be helpful to keep your neck upright lol.

relatively simple tichel, they get crazy 

So bottom line- I've always been fascinated by hair wrapping and scarves in general- on my neck, on my head, as a belt I love scarves, so this was a great find for me. I normally bog out on tutorials- I get tired of seeing the same one over and over again, heres how to wrap a scarf into a curlicue in the middle of your forehead, or slightly to the left! It doesn't thrill me. This community makes me feel impressed- nothing against other scarf tutorials out there, but most of those are about protecting your hair from manipulation damage, and the tichel is for hiding hair away because it is an intimate part of you. So it is definitely a different kind of scarf tying, you won't find your ancient Aunt Jemima bandanna, your peppy signature 50's Marilyn square scarf with bow, your modern 'rose' or low bun style in this community. Instead most scarf styles start out smooth on top, and are made by wrapping and layering textures and colors while tucking in ends, or leaving them out like pony tails. I've also been checking out their blog and watching some cool turban tutorials. It just makes sense as I'm getting into playing around with color on my face, I'd want to take away the distraction of my hair as well once in a while. My only caveat is that I am not Jewish, and while google seems to say no one will mind, I'm not sure If i can get around the under garment gear that poofs these up so nicely- thats the only thing the lovely youtube tutorials for quick updos have on the tichel- nothing underneath required but your own hairs. 

I cant wait to have a bad hair day :)

New kitty/ Kitteh Hunt special thanks to Mid Hudson Animal Aid in Beacon!

We have decided to get a new kitty friend for our olive- and we are hoping she doesn't mind after a while. No-one expects instant friendship, and she is already not happy about being kept out of the bathroom for the past week- but as of Tuesday New Kitty Ozy will be all neutered and vaccinated and de-wormed and ready to go. Definitely keeping him isolated for a while until we are sure he isn't carrying fleas or this bad stomach flu going around the shelter, and after that we are following cat introductory protocol. Many resources we checked suggested the same steps, so we have a definite plan. Gotta make sure he uses the litter box etc. Since hes a little younger, maybe 10 months to a year, he should retain his kitten energy for a while to tire out our current Resident.

Olive plays like a kitten still.

We opted for a younger boy cat, a little smaller than our Olive to help smooth things over. I've seen some places say that this whole opposite gender getting along better thing is a myth, but whatever we are trying to stack the deck in our favor. Ozy comes from a 'found outside' litter so we expect he will be bouncy and scrappy, but after everything settles down, we think his initial go-with-the-flow attitude will prevail. He had several siblings, but out of the boys we liked his chill attitude, he didn't seem anxious being handled or pet, not too excited and not running away and hiding. Since Olive is kind of a prima donna, alternately annoying and demanding, mixed with pets on 'her terms' we thought the relaxed attitude of this particular kitty would be good- not too demanding and not too competitive, hopefully a little more affectionate (Steve had mentioned he wanted an affectionate kitty when we were driving down since olive is really not much of a lap cat).

Kitteh Hunt: 

First we met my friend J who works at Mid Hudson Animal Aid in Beacon NY, ate lunch at the cool Doctor Who themed restaurant down there (falafel was good) and dove into the kitty meeting.

J has known we've been considering getting another since December and looking since at least May, and knows what we are looking for, so she had some good prospects lined up. First was a little all black kitty named Obsidian, who Steve immediately fell in love with. Obsidian is silky and gorgeous, unfortunately he still needed a lot of work, as he was still fairly afraid of people and was stressed out by us trying to approach him to get a good look; he would however with a kind and patient owner probably be an incredible cat. I brought up the fact that we had already worked hard to rehab our current cat from shyness and he realized this may not be the right match for us. I'm really not up for domesticating a cat right now- too much going on, and it isn't fair to take home a project when we don't have room for one.

The next contender was Gizmo, a really sweet white with black spots cat. He was very confident and sweet, but much bigger than our Olive, and I thought that might be threatening to her. We did play with him for a long time and he had great cat manners. He was probably my favorite personality wise- he looked like he would be a hoot to watch bounce around the house, and seemed like a really cuddly guy. If we didn't already have Olive I would have walked out with him ASAP.

We checked out a few others and played with all the cats for a while, then headed into a staff only section where the new cats are being kept- and in there we were showed some little black males that were being overlooked. Ozy the one we picked turned out to -we hope- have the best match personality wise to our current kitty. Apparently when it's kitten season and you're just not a kitten any more nobody really looks at you too hard. So we were happy to take one of these guys off their hands. Since we've been there my aunt was also able to snap up two adorable Maine coon kittens I sent her pictures of, so that's three cats out the door to my family :)

We have spent the week since cleaning and organizing, and keeping Ollie happy. We are trying to do stuff gradually since she's very about routine and we have a very small apartment. Lots of spaces to jump and climb and get up high, but still small by human standards. Wish us luck next week as our foray into having two kittehs continues.

Vienna, Austria. Early June, 2015

vacation to Vienna in June!

Architecture, cool plants, good food and decent weather. I packed thinking it would be cooler than it was, so I was very hot most of the time. We also both felt a little under dressed- Vienna or "Wien" as they and many other countries call the city- is a pretty swanky city. Kind of like living here and going to NYC. The people that live there are dressed very cute and the visiting people always have awkward sneakers and windbreakers around their waists.

Climbed to the top of this church here- it's off of Karlsplatz and you take an elevator up and then climb for eternity until you get to top of what I'm SURE is a very stable staircase but what feels like a rickety-held together-with duct tape-shamble ladder. Definitely got the wobble knees at the top, and I'm not really afraid of heights. The paintings were really cool- I like the painted rivets and decorations, they look like they are wooden appliques but they are just painted trompe l'oeil.

We also went through several gardens and public parks, all of which are basically trash free and dog friendly and perfectly landscaped and maintained. All the roses in the city were blooming the week we were there. ALSO these ducks. 

 Took the EXCELLENT public transportation to the top of a mountain to see Vienna from above.

 Walked through the wealthy and quaint suburbs back down into Vienna and back towards the bus.

 Roses everywhere. Fun fact we learned on the trip: Roses catch blight before grapes, and that is why they are planted in a prolific manner in vineyards.  If the roses get sick, they know the grapes are next. Also they smell pretty.

We also did a 15 mile bike tour/ wine tasting- wines were pretty good- I am a sweet wine person, so I probably didn't get out of it all I could have. However being very out of shape and also drunk - not to mention not having ridden a bike in ten years easy-didn't help with the bike riding aspect of this trip. The sitting on my butt drinking wine part I had down pat though. I'm sure in time I'll look back and be amazed by the beauty of the countryside instead of remembering that I felt like I was going to pass out/ lose the group the whole time. However, the region we were in was full of vineyards big and small, basically the Napa Valley of that area. 

We also toured Shönbrunn Palace, (one of the palaces, the place is lousy with palaces they are everywhere) below is pictured the back of the palace which faces extensively manicured gardens, tree lined walkways, an insanely large intricate fountain, and high up on a steep hill, some kind of mini palace? There's an amazing view but it was so hot we all took one look at the hill and were like "UMMM nope." Also present back in this area are hedge mazes and a ZOO. A ZOO people. 

 My only good zoo picture. The otters and flying foxes were cute too. It was really hot so most animals were passed out sleeping through the heat. One really cute baby goat was running all around and jumping off rocks and stuff- but he was the only one with energy. They also have a bat room where you walk in and the room is dark and bats are just flying everywhere, around your head and legs and stuff. THEY BRUSHED ME I SWEAR.The zoo cafe had incredible iced tea, or "Eis Tee".

 Also this which I assume is a greenhouse, but we didn't go inside.

 Giant Ferris wheel at the Prater, a kind of permanent carnival area. We hit up a beer garden that was Very Good here as well as saw some creepy clowns and stuff on the facades of various rides. WE went up in the Ferris wheel - at night the whole city lights up under you.

We also went to the Naschmarkt, an open air market with spices, tea, veggies and venders etc. 

This is another palace we visited The Belvedere, which houses the botanical gardens of Vienna as well as I believe a section of a University where plants, botany and biodiversity are studied. 

some cool desert plants

This is a Castle we visited towards the end of our trip, it was reconstructed in the 2800's using various parts of the original castle and other castles. Very cool. 

We obviously did other things on the trip,  most notably eat, drink and be merry.

 Ribs EVERYWHERE. I had to come home and detox my system from all the booze and meat and sodium before my intestines worked totally right again, to me the mark of any good vacation ;).

Iced coffee is coffee and ice cream.

 A little spatzle with some goulash.

SO MUCH GOOD BEERS. we drank a lot of Ottakringer, and Budvar (like budweiser but made there and better tasting) and Radler- which is like a Shandy. I drank my weight in Radlers easily. 

We tried to learn to play poker on one of our nights free hanging out at the house, but the people we went with who taught us were very good so it kinda sucked and we ran out of "money" real fast. Learned to order an ice cream cone in German, Eistüte, and how to be polite and say excuse me, and please and thank you- Bitte, Danke. We picked up a bunch more as well. It was the first country I've been to where they got kind of visibly frustrated when you spoke their language to them- their English is WAY BETTER than our German, so they mostly preferred to converse and interact in English. We spent a lot of time on the subway or the "Ubahn" ( like Boston has 'the T' and London has the 'tube') and we popped up at many of the main hub stops- Stephansplatz, Swedensplatz and Karlsplatz. So many Platzes, so little time.

Pretty awesome once in a lifetime trip- we would have never been able to go if we didn't stay with our friend Kate! Thanks! She helped us not go into massive debt to achieve this trip with our best friends.

I miss singing.

maybe that's it. ; )

Passionate about your job/volunteering

Every time I sit and stew on my couch and watch hours of documentaries, it makes me think about things I am passionate about, things I think are important to me. and I think that is where I would find an ideal job, not in things I necessarily like to do but in things I am passionate about. If I am not supposed to let myself be held back by my location, job status, relationship status, etc.

I find it really difficult not to be held back by these things, because moving on to new stages of life often means letting older trappings go. I don't want to let anything go, but I want to go and find something I care about and solve a problem in a smart and innovative way. I don't want to be a drone, but at the same time I need to garner some form of security for a future family. So my paradox is: To have security, you must be a drone. To follow your dreams you must be a tight rope walker with no security.

One interest:
I think I would like to work with BSL and BDL legislation, however with no law degree and no desire to become a lawyer (I honestly don't know if I am up to the work involved) I am not sure what can be accomplished other than  holding a sign (which I feel accomplishes 3% the results people want). Petitioning local legislative bodies to change laws locally will eventually make a change, because small steps start big steps. I am not a fan of dogs in general. I find Pit bull type dogs just as annoying as poodles and retrievers and labs and chihuahua dogs little yappy ankle biters. I am passionate about this issue not because of the dogs involved, but because I know that dogs touch people's hearts and bring joy to their lives; they can teach responsibility and strengthen relationships, provide support for the sick and work many jobs that humans cannot accomplish yet with technology (search and rescue being a good example). I think that blocking BSL and BDL legislation and focusing more on responsible ownership laws for all dogs, as well as stopping backyard breeders and making spay neuter mandatory would go a long way to making a difference in the number of dog bites/attacks we see as well as cutting down the number of dogs who are bred unsound physically, emotionally or mentally and placed into society for human monetary gain.

a second much more vague Interest:
I really like plants. I have a LOT LESS PLANTS than I once did because we got a cat and she has been systematically assassinating them one by one, however I have a really big interest in the way that the US and Canada grow their food- I know that we have genetically engineered crops pest resistant etc- but my real interest is in the pesticides used and finding a healthier alternative for the environment, now that companies have been manufacturing these pest and weed resistant "-icides" for our crops, our yields are up, however mother nature is fighting back with many varieties of weeds becoming resistant to our chemical advances, making commercial farming much harder as weeds that once were confined to the edges of fields are bolting into the corn as it were (one particularly 'smart' and fast adapting weed is rapeseed) There is an economical impact of smaller farmers who's crops cannot stand up against large companies and who are driven out of business as they cannot afford the new and best chemicals to fight these superweeds...etc. The food industry in America is like a labrynth of new and terrifying and exotic and scary things around every corner and no David Bowie in sight, and there are so many places for improvement. Since this is literally how we keep our country alive I wish it were more focused on feeding people properly instead of cheaply, and making a more positive impact on our environmnent.

Third and most possible interest:

Photographing animals in pounds and shelters to make more positive profiles and get more animals adopted than purchased from breeders. Make it a community witnessed effort. Increase awareness of the evils of backyard breeders.

Reasoning: Animals will ALWAYS be purchased from breeders because people are snotty (yup went there). Professional Dog and Cat Breeders usually represent the top of the pyramid for providing animals that are healthy, cared for, and sturdy emotionally/mentally/physically, and for that reason I think society will always have a place for them. However, as long as Asshole Backyard Breeders are making puppies for some easy money, and people are not spaying and neutering, our shelters and pounds will be overflowing with adoptable animals who will otherwise be put to death, because the supply far outweighs the demand.

I advocate for Spay and Neuter and proper pet ownership education. I know a lot of shelter animals are returned to shelters for behavioral issues. I think it is really important to match an animal's energy level and intelligence with the family life and get an honest picture of how this animal will fit in before a person takes it home and is wildly surprised by the fact that the lazy dog they wanted can figure out how to open the front door and run the neighborhood, or that their cat climbs everything in sight when they wanted a couch potato (which was my pet mistake).  Shelter staff should be educated on the general temperament of their animals, and should do their best to prevent mismatches, as well as educating prospective adopters to have an open mind and to be honest- many pet behavioral issues come from people not putting in the time and effort, or not having been honest with themselves before adopting about their lifestyle or time restrictions. I think morally I would rather have a dog be euthanized and killed than have it be adopted and miserable or mistreated in a bad home.

I think more government support should be given to shelters and city pounds especially to fund programming, and I think I could find room in any city's budget to trim the fat and I am no whiz. All it takes is an honest look at the books. I think free obedience classes for dogs are really important to community wellness and child safety as well, and that as responsible ownership should be taught young in school. As responsible ownership increases in any community, there will be a raised awareness of lawbreakers regarding animal welfare as well as increased tolerance for all breeds of dogs, fighting BSL and BDL on the ground floor which ties into my other interest.

COINCIDENTALLY

I have a huge interest in genetics, my hubby has a huge interest in golden retrievers, and coincidentally this has manifested itself into my interest in dog breeding. I don't want to be a breeder and I have this seething contempt for them because I secretly feel like they are ruining dogs, sort of how bread went from being made from scratch to being wonderbread. However, my rampant interest in all things genetics and cut and paste genealogy has made dog breeders and indispensable resource to track coat colors through lineages and the rise and fall of genetic instabilities as well as dominant and recessive genes etc. It is just so interesting. I really like that Professional Breeders take what they do seriously, often do not do it for monetary gain, their dogs go to the vet and are well bred, well cared for, and that families are screened and sometimes home visited before they are allowed to take home a puppy. I think if we could get population down and model shelter adoptions more along this line, there would be less shelter returns. But a lot of it is stopping the girl around the block from breeding her blue pit because he's beautiful and she needs the money.  She's an idiot and she needs to be stopped or get licensed and all that comes with that.  I want that lay's face on a poster with the words "The Problem" under it.

Maybe something with animals.


 

Miss-Representation- very fantastic.

I have been gearing up to watch this documentary for a long time! Years even, and I definitely recommend you and your husband sit down and watch it, as well as show it to your kids (there are some curses and breasts in the material they supply for debate so watch it yourself FIRST! and make sure you approve!) I have a very vivid memory of sitting on my boyfriends couch watching a television show, and I was being "rude" and speaking out about the show in a really flippant and annoyed way- I think my exact words were, "all those women are skinny bitches." My boyfriend, reacting actually to his sisters visual discomfort I think, basically told me I was bring rude and to shut up- it was a show she absolutely loved and I'm sure it's very good. What I said was crass and not effective. What I meant was, seriously, why can't women look like real women. Men get to look like real men. Why can't someone who looks like me or your sister be the starring role in a television show. Why don't they exist. Why does everyone's goal on this show right now revolve around romance.

My reaction to this documentary is fairly positive, because it brings up a lot of things I have noticed and had issue with but not been able to express.

My mom says: Be proud of your body! It is the only one you get and it is wonderful!
BUT Media shows: Unless is it too heavy on the bottom, "apple shaped" your butt is too flat, your legs are too chicken-y, your boobs to big (or small or the wrong texture), If your hair is too curly, if your hair is too straight- Heaven forbid you have any kind of flub in the middle. You know what, basically if you aren't thirteen year old carbon copy of the photoshopped version of Meghan Fox HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE IN PUBLIC. You should feel ugly.

My mom says: Women are strong. We are often stronger than men in the clutch. We push babies out of our bodies. STRONG.
Media shows: We will cancel those shows portraying strong women after one season because no one likes to see a woman in power unless she is being manipulated and broken down by the men around her. We will make fun of any woman who seeks a position of power- you don't have the right to be seen as a candidate, only as a sex object who is emotionally unstable 'hot or not' and will be constantly judged by *gasp* other women about how your hair looks. You do not have the right to be judged for your opinions only without the filter of your beauty.

Mom and your teachers say: No one asks to be raped. No matter what.
Media shows: Unless you were dressed with a skirt above your knees, then you were asking for it. Or were at a bar. or had any cleavage at all. If you aren't a troll you are asking for it. Even if you are a troll.  not only that! If you do file a report (but you should probably just tell your friends then bury it as an unfortunate event) people will always believe you and it will 'go away' by the time the next episode airs. You may have a three episode arc where you deal with these feelings but life moves on really quickly and you'll go back to being your same old self. (This really bothers me because if a boy is bullied or loses a fight in 8th grade it shapes the man he grows up to be, and we are beginning to understand that. But if a girl is molested or raped, impossibly, I feel she is still expected to pop up bright as a daisy in three days like nothing happened. If she seeks help she is teased by peers and ridiculed by eye rolling teachers who want her to "get over it already". I've actually seen this happen, and as a teenager was outraged but silent.

Mom says: You have the right to play sports! Just like the men. Title IX! Go kick ass honey.
Media shows: In teeny tiny shorty shorts that show off your booty, and tight tank tops that show off your tits! You do not have the right to be sweaty and disheveled and completely VICTORIOUS like men do though. because instead of strong, we say you look gross and make fun of you.
Likewise, You can have a high power job! But only if you are pretty. The pretty girls on our shows you would kill to be have confident exteriors but show nail biting insecurities about their intelligence. THis makes them approachable and shows girls that she should never be sure of herself, even if she fits the perfect archetype of "the hottie".

If 'Society' teaches us that men are the smarter, stronger, better sex. If men are smarter, stronger, more emotionally balanced and in general better, shouldn't such a being be perfectly able to raise up successful sons and daughters to add to society? And if being a 'mother' is too tough and intricate for a man, why can a woman do it? A man can negotiate the delicate nuances of a corporate merger, but cannot tell his daughter that he loves her and that she is beautiful without all the makeup- the girls on the TV are not real people, and she should not be having sex at age 13, even if iCarly has a boyfriend. Society says only a man is really qualified to run America, but it is a waste for a man to make sure his family eats healthy, locally sourced ingredients in the dinners he cooks, and finds it wasteful to spend an hour making sure his sons homework is done, teaching him to take pride in cooking or learning how to do laundry? Is it wrong for a man to know how to not shrink your damn sweaters? WHY?

I think being a feminist should not mean you fight for women to replace men in the job market- I think being a feminist is being fair and realizing not every man who is taught he needs to be in a suit , needs to be the breadwinner, needs the corporate job- this does not mean he WANTS to be in a suit, at a desk, driving a truck, working the power lines. Many women who are trapped at home covered in toddler vomit have loftier dreams than working part time at Michaels. They should be able to pursue what they want without being judged as Trolls, Harpies, MILFs. If a woman is the best candidate why not hire a woman over a man. Likewise, if a woman wants to stay home and raise her kids, why is that wrong and looked down on?

Other stuff.
Blather blather. BLah blah. It's not done it's too late to keep spouting sentences with relatively correct punctuation.

Burberry Winter Coats

I can't help being so damn miserable every time I see some little vacant looking teenager walking down the street in a Burberry coat. I don't really give a damn about the rest of it, I can wear a pair of 10.00 shoes from payless or KMart, and I can get my clothes on sale at the mall and be fine. I sell design-your own bags and I hate the high fashion, what the hell does a coach bag really carry that a canvas tote can't.

Just once in a while a new coat, a really NICE new coat, that fits well and flatters curves and makes you feel like a beautiful woman; it makes you feel alive and warm in the cold and you can put it on winter after winter and think WOW this coat really makes my figure insane and my cheekbones stand out and the color makes my eyes pop and every bad hair day pales in comparison to my ass in THIS COAT. I think this is also the reason I own a dozen dresses, I'm looking for that feeling. Sometimes I get it but not as consistently as when I put on a coat.

When my brother and my boyfriend started telling me I dress like a 90 year old woman this year I got a little offended because usually look in the mirror and I see a classy woman. I never wanted any part of my wardrobe to imply that I think leggings can be worn as pants because LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS. ESPECIALLY ON MEN.  I wear cardigans and trouser-leg-jeans and I have delicate jewelry and nice button ups and a classic peacoat. I have a tiny waist, and belts to show it off. I have dresses that vary from the 50's style to the sundress style of my youth, frilly and plain and I have boatneck tops that show off my collar bones. I have clothes that I enjoyed genuinely until the day my boyfriend apparently decided I looked like a 40 year old and what he really thought I should look like was a teenager?

I caved and now I own skinny jeans. The calves that have sunk a thousand pairs of well intentioned boots now get crammed semi-successfully into skinny jeans. Like REALLY TIGHT jeans. I can see dimples from space in this shit. Yes my butt looks great, but still having to hike them up every ten seconds means 50% of the time I have diaper crotch because HELLO curves happen. Not to be harsh here but when your boyfriend's first reaction to you in a pair of very attractive but super uncomfortable pants is " yeah, you look hot. Now you look your age." DUDE I am 25 and built for comfort, not for speed. I look fat in these pants. but whatever.

 Here's the thing, once you say it, it's out. I try not to dwell on the things I say that hurt people's feelings because I can't really suck them back from recent memory and make them not happen. I feel bad the boyfriend has apologized a dozen times about saying I dress like a fogey, but it doesn't mean he no longer thinks that way-he's just sorry he let it out.  Sure I give in and look like a makeup smeared flannel shirt wearing beanie flaunting leggings as pants (in my own house only) hoodrat occasionally(apparently this is his dream girl?). When I paint. Or sleep. Outside I want to look nice and put together, since when did that become a bad thing? When did that become not hot, not sexy. What not to wear, did you lie to me all these years? are skinny jeans ok when you're short? Because they don't make them less- skinny. One half inch of leeway is the difference between mom jeans and fashion. Seriously, what is happening here.

High School Clothes: where you are feels a lot like where you've been

Just this last week my mother was cleaning out her room- and she called me, "Honey, I found some clothes in the room and I put them aside for you to go through. Whatever you don't want, just let me know and I will [insert thrift of choice] them."

I went and grabbed clothes, and since I've been watching a lot of TLC's what not to wear lately, it got me thinking about my reaction to my clothes that have been put away since 2007. I had some things that I pulled out and realized why I hadn't missed them [thrift or trash that shit], yet other things I instantly put in the keep pile; some for sentimental reasons and some for "Hell I can still wear this" reasons. This whole post started because I sat and thought about the past looking at these clothes- some of them I didn't wear because I recognized that they were beautiful but too old for me at the time, so that was neat that I was able to pull out a jacket and go "Oh yeah, this is for me." It was also cool thinking about a time when I had almost all hand me-downs, I have memories of "that last time I wore this shirt I actually remember wearing it. My hair was this style and I owned these pants. I was at the school play managing a wing and then I never saw it again." I wanted to keep it because it was like I lost it, instead of what really happened which was I had thousands of shirts and it got missed in the shuffle.

Obviously these have been out of sight, out of mind. As I went through it pulled me back in time with my feet firmly in the present. I've been thinking about high school a lot lately, and it was serendipitous that my mom chose this week to grab a hunk of my past and thrust it into the light- My friends, boyfriend of the time, life's agitations and leadership roles I took.

I find it really interesting that the things I wanted to keep from the bag were the things I kept back in the day and couldn't bear to part with- maybe they were classic or beautiful. I pulled out this blue shirt that I loved because it was very scandalous and low cut (not my usual style especially in high school) I always thought it made me look pretty and the color was great with my hair. I took one look at it, had all those memories, and instantly trashed it. It is a box with a v neck that is ridiculously short waisted and would look terrible. Ditto my flannel boxers with cows in tutus on them and the hole torn in the butt. I do not need them to be happy.

I also pulled out another teeshirt that I always liked because it was Navy (little known fact: favorite clothing color) with a line that goes across the top of the bust in an attractive way. I know it fits and looks cute. I have no idea how I forgot about it. Add a jacket and one of my awesome pencil skirts, a pair of heels and a necklace and I would look glam. It's classic. So that one was instant keeps.

I am definitely not the same person I was then; I feel depleted; I remember myself being so much stronger and more put together at 17 than I am at 24 today. Mostly, the clothes made me think about my current relationship and how I am strangely and disturbingly in the same place all over again.

Relationship wise, *picture me standing in my mother's living room holding a sweater or something while all this runs through my head* I remember walking all over my boyfriend and definitely feeling like I wore the pants. At times I remember even feeling bad because I knew he just buttoned lip and dealt with it and resented it, but also at other times I would be frustrated (and elated) when he would say "Yeah well, I'm gonna do this. Sucks for you." This same attitude attracted me to my current boyfriend as well- saying "I'll chop the lettuce how I want to chop the damn lettuce woman, now help me here and cut up those tomatoes."

Thinking on how then I was in a long term relationship, life was a little falling apart, I was a bully to my boyfriend, I was really in the air about going to college, for what, to what end- thats a really large decision for a young person to make. Now having seen the results of those past actions it brings a lot of fear into my life and makes me doubt my path choices.

I did end up going to college, the one with rolling admissions that gave me the best scholarship and had a campus I instantly felt comfortable on. My boyfriend did leave me at the beginning of college. Because we remained friends for a while, I was able to deduce I made him feel unwanted and unappreciated. Last time we talked over a year ago, at age 23 he was with someone and had said one of the reasons he loves her is because she makes him feel so wanted and loved, and that is important to him. I always thought it was really good that he saw that so clearly, and knew he needed that in a relationship. It also made me realize I never made him feel like that in all the years we dated. Family life was less rough as I clawed my way out of it and into dorm living, and with a new goal and a new boyfriend I tackled freshman year.

At home lately I feel like a tyrant, almost as if we had children and I was suffering from 'why is mommy always the bad guy' syndrome. My current boyfriend has been pointing out how miserable and nitpicky I've been lately- An Example- "You cook dinner, I don't want to- look you burned this because you didn't do it right, if you paid attention it would still be in the realm of the living and edible." That this offends him is legitimate and it would make me angry as well if someone talked to me that way, only an insane person would yell at someone for the little things. However, all of a sudden I am INCAPABLE of going with the flow and letting it roll off anymore. I walk into this house, and it TRULY BOTHERS MY SOUL and I cannot fathom why someone would leave a cup in the sink with milk sitting in it to sour and curdle instead of rinsing out the glass. I know I shouldn't scream about it, rationally, and I know it is damaging my relationship, but it makes me want to throw something breakable. Laser beam eyes. The water works. The whole nine yards. Some days I am one milky glass away from the edge.

The review of that uncertain time in my life has made me recognize patterns. I was holding shirts and pants that I actually wore last time this happened- being unhappy, having no idea of a solid goal, being lost, having a high pressure external stressor I cannot cope with and taking it out on my partner.

I know I have to break the cycle but I'm not sure how to do so. I imagine the first step is getting a goal to work toward, and people keep telling me to jump, just do it, investigate and make a leap of faith. But I am so tired and I am in a "devil you know" kind of place. I think if I leapt and didn't make it I might not get up again.  I think a hundred people could tell me to jump and I would still stand stock still with terror, crying and spewing bullshit about how my boyfriend doesn't love me because he leaves glasses with milk in them in the sink for two days. How do you get out of the pit? Do you just wake up one day like Dorothy, shake off your technicolor horrorshow and the will to take charge in your life again is there?

Wheat Grass, and the Desire to shop, attachment to things.

So we planted Wheat Grass and guess what it grew! The last two months have seen the passive death of my two christmas cacti that were attacked a year ago by the varmint in our yard, the echeveria that I bought thinking " I have a grow light and it will grow!" and my jade has grown taller then it's stem can support. Snake plant going strong, norfolk pine may not be dead by christmas, and wandering Jew is looking REALLY SAD but has yet to kick the proverbial bucket.

I don't know what happened, all of a sudden keeping my plants alive and healthy has taken a back burner. Other things hijacked my life and it was a huge blow to realize that I literally let my cacti die by not watering them. I just forgot to keep them alive.

I am watching what not to wear and remembering when I used to care what I looked like at work. I mean, I got up and did my makeup. I wore little heels and pencil skirts and button ups, I'm not sure if the anxiety about constantly screwing up has pushed it out of my life, but I have become one of those "get a cotton top in a color that looks good and call it an outfit" type of person when I own 16 pairs of shoes, a dozen or so belts, no less than 10 pencil skirts, 8 dresses at least, 5 pairs of tights and more than twenty assorted tees and shirts. Not counting any jeans or work slacks. I have SO MANY clothes, and I do not feel like putting together an outfit any more. I keep looking online to find inspiration- but it really just makes me want to go shopping instead of fixing my life. Like a new coat will make me happy- I know it will not make me better at my job, pay my rent, help my bowling game, but hey. Why not spend money I don't have on something that will give me a momentary high every time I wear it until I wear it three times and stop wearing it.

I have many clothes I do not wear, but I won't get rid of them because: I hate doing laundry having lots of clothes is a reprieve. Someone I love gave it to me as a gift, or I bought it and don't want to admit I wasted my money and never wear it ( at least 7 tees fit in this category). It is not work appropriate/ It is but I want to keep it clean for work and cannot wear it in regular life. Lots of shirts in various shades of green. I think if I got rid of everything that didn't fit properly, I would have like 6 things to wear and I would be Bored. Currently having them doesn't make me happy, but I'm afraid to not have things, because things make me feel secure? Yet I feel so untethered and insecure anyway? Having Stuff is better than not having stuff, but is certainly confusing.

Sometimes I feel like...

I could have been a cheerleader if I were thinner in highschool, but looking back I had the exact same build as many of our cheerleaders and the only thing I didn't have was the desire to be a cheerleader and the stamina. And the quadriceps. I'm thinking gym membership.

Saturday

Nice weather today.
Woke up at 7:30 and went back to bed, crawled out of bed around 9:20 and went to work. Forgot to take off makeup so spruced it up a bit instead of cleaning my face and redo-ing it. YUP :D

10-5, work. Pretty boring day. Was terrified this strange sketchy woman would come back in but she did not so GO ME! I dealt with some other very friendly people instead.

5:30, leave work; went to parents so Dad could spoil me by both buying and replacing my headlight bulbs that blew. and checking my tire pressure. and fluids. Basically my home is like a Jiffy-Lube and thank god SOMEONE is looking after my car. Because though I always intend to it doesn't happen. Mom has fed me chili.

It's 7:30 now and my weekend is beginning. finalllyyyyy.

I have planned so far: to water my plants so they don't all put up tombstones, spray for ants (with borrowed ant spray), tomorrow to scotch guard my new fabrics (direct sales job) and meet with the lovely ladies that I am hosting an event with. Other than that I need to HAUL ASS on this print that's supposed to be postmarked the 30th and call several hundred people to try to get them to come to this event. And sign up for the March of Dimes and get me some donations. Save the premies!

WOO!

It's a FRIIIDAYYYY

Yesterday's Day:

In an effort to truly find out how I use my time I will shamelessly log it in here.

SO
7:30 am- wake up, roll over, kill alarm.
8:15 am- hit snooze
8:20 am get up! bathroom-turn on plant lights- throw lunch into a container, toss things in bag get clothes on body, pin hair, get in car.
8:37 off we go
9 am WORK
5 pm leave work.
drive home - good songs on the radio. sunny out.
5:30ish arrive home. putz with hubs, change into real person clothes, browse internet; catch up on comics. Kill a few ants. Research how to make carpenter ants stop eating our apartment and coming out of our walls. Hubs leaves for work. I realize how disheveled the apartment is but do not clean it up. Maybe this weekend.
6 pm get idea to make a blog to see how much tim I am wasting when I am not working and sleeping.
6:30 pur on clothes, go to danielle's for her party
7:00 WHICH IS NEXT WEEK ooops. so head to the mall instead. stop at michaels, grab some of those scissors that make the fun cutout borders. for my nails. Check it out- I do my nails sometimes. they are perpetually tragically short. I work around it.

Then went to Office Depot and grabbed some office supplies and a shredder finally. About time the junk mail is outrageous.

Got home around 9 pm, found out both my headlights blew at once and went to bed around midnight. Hubs-in-training got home at around...11. So I stayed up briefly afterward.

It has been two years. I have accomplished:

A bachelors degree
An apartment.
A long term relationship
Doing my own taxes (almost)

The plants have died, mostly. I have added a tiny tropical pine tree, two more christmas cacti (one from my grandfather is on death's doorstep) some very tiny and adorable succulent rosettes probably some sort of sedum. My Jades are doing ok. My aloe looks sick and the snake plant is turning skeletal and dry. Mint in the window sill is slowly dying waiting to be replanted.

I've been reading a lot of dog blogs. Got a nice reality check the other day when my neighbors dog got loose and scared the shit out of me. Reading and knowing about dogs is not the same thing as having experience with dogs. I WANT A CAT SO BAD. But I am afraid that I will not be able to afford one/ it will ruin my life by clawing all things I hold dear and in general not being as awesome as my one true cat, bob.

In other news, once upon a time you would go to college and then you would be able to get a job. I went to college- I studied hard, I aced my tests, I didn't skip, I graduated with a degree in Painting and a minor in Printmaking and Summa cum laude to beat. My whole life people told me that school doesn't matter, and to a certain extent they are right. The real world is not like school. There are no teachers in real life pressuring you to do better. Your boss is not your teacher- they are supposed to be, but for some reason you are willing to work so much harder for your teacher than your boss. But your boss gives you money! I don't understand it!

I want an art job. I do not want to direct a gallery, attempt to promote my nonexistent art to galleries, or teach children to finger paint degas images. I, however, cannot use any computer programs other than microsoft office suite and photoshop, have only a basic understanding of a camera, cannot use a light room, and cannot code for shit. Thus, I am experiencing limited job opportunities.

I have a job right now, full time with benefits. I'm so fortunate to have a job, but it isn't in the field I studied for, and these days the most artistic things I do are newsletters and posters where I toggle Word fonts. Then I get home and I'm exhausted and don't feel like doing any art. I mock things up and never touch them. Think of ideas and never paint them. Etc. Such is life. I can't imagine I'm the only one here, where no matter what the money is and what the work is, I'm not doing what I want to do or what I practiced for OR what I was trained to do for four years. That's a long time. I've spent two years post college looking for full time employment, now that I have that, I'm longing for full time employment doing something creative. Doesn't have to even be art per say- so maybe I should go back to school to fight the unhappies. Cause that's apparently a thing.  

living stones blooming

I had two sets blooming together for about a week or so. I've lost a few more since December and I'm sure more will go- I'm still learning how to take care of them.