I just thought the world ought to know how happy I am right this very moment.

(Even though I am coming down with bronchitis. Even though I haven't found a new apartment yet. Even though I don't know how money is going to be in the next couple months. Even though I don't know if I have the emotional strength to see my family for Thanksgiving. Even though I haven't even started packing to move in three weeks.)

I am happy. Extraordinarily happy, even.

I am living a life filled with an incredible amount of love right now and it has kind of blindsided me. Seattle has finally begun to feel like home to me, which I somewhat believed would never happen. I mean, Bellingham has been my heart for a long time. Even when I felt like the city had turned like a snake in my hand, or that the people in it had forgotten me, I still loved it there. Really, I still do love it. But there are things I would be completely unwilling to leave behind here, now.

I am moving to Capitol Hill soon, to be nearer the center of the city. Despite my lack of organization about moving, I hope that it will be a nice change. I hate my current apartment, which is cramped and has NO CLOSETS. Also, there are horrifyingly large spiders. I want to live in an interesting turn-of-the-century brick building with the possibility of being able to paint the walls. Also, I want a fabulously oversized bathtub.

It took a million years or so, but I finally found a group of friends that feel like family. I've felt indescribably alone for the last six months or so. Yes, I know that I have a live-in boyfriend and I had friends down here already, but those friends' schedules don't always mesh so well with my own. It's hard to feel included when you only see people every couple of weeks or months. Not driving just adds to the difficulty.

Honestly, I haven't even been spending time with these (awesome, brilliant) people too terribly long, but sometimes everything just clicks at the right moment in the right time, you know?

I think I've finally lost that edge of pure terror that moving to Seattle placed within me. It seemed like the only way to make my life okay again, but damned if it wasn't the most difficult move I've ever made.

I came to Seattle with one wonderful boy in my life, thinking that I was going to try my damnedest to make something good work in my life for once. Thus far, it has worked out. Despite all of my Crazy getting all over everything, somehow we're still managing to be lovely together. We help each other learn, despite our frustrations with the world.

I found another amazing boy. Funny enough, I think heartbreak led us to one another. He makes me feel like a piece of myself had been walking around without me for a long, long time and I just didn't know why it was that I felt so incomplete. Until now, that is.

It's nice to have proven something to myself that I always believed to be true. I can have love with more than one extraordinary person without guilt or undue pain.

It makes me look forward to what the future holds.

mood: loved music: MGMT - Kids tags: beauty, bellingham, happiness, holidays, hopes, love, poly, seattle, the boy, the number

Completely without context: Conversations about why Ikea reminds me of abortion, FTW.

So, I deeply believe that this comic just gets hotter and hotter with every page:

http://jessfink.com/Chester5000XYV/

Just sayin'.

mood: bouncy music: i am jen - Broken In All The Right Places tags: comics, sexxx

Today has been an intensely manic-depressive day and I'd be hard-pressed to explain exactly why.

Suffice to say that I'm in an overall happy headspace right now. My weekend plans seem to be falling (almost) effortlessly into place. My night was long and terrible sometimes, while at work, but gleefully ridiculous at other times. A number of bus-riding folk probably believe me to be insane, due to my giggling fits earlier today. Work is, as ever, a bit of a struggle. The evening was damned fine. Damned fine indeed. I had my weeping moment, when I couldn't stop the memories of (home?) Bellingham and Rumors and '80s Night from flooding in. But I handled it well, had a few drinks to quiet the ghosts, danced until it hurt, and flirted because I could. Someone even asked me to go home with them. I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Perhaps I'll speak more of this later. I probably won't. It was a good day/night. Really, it was. I need to have more of those.

More good days to come, please?

mood: exhausted music: New Order - Bizarre Love Triangle

I did a number of things tonight:

- I realized that the light was like honey, in strange contrast to the thin cold air, while walking to work.

- I worked and hated every minute of it.

- I stomped big piles of crackling leaves, pretending I was Godzilla tormenting autumn-leaf Tokyo.

- I read a book.

- I was taken out to dinner when I finally escaped from my workplace.

- I had an outstanding conversation for two hours in a car, parked outside of my apartment.

This is the CliffsNotes version of my evening. I'm sure that there shall be more to follow, but I really ought to go to bed soon-ish.

location: Living Room... OF DOOM! mood: flirty music: Fischerspooner - Emerge tags: books, food, happiness, vague journal entries, walking, wobbly brain, work

It's strange that I do all the writing I feel best about in my SUPER SEEKRIT journal.

I mean, I wish that more people could read it, only because I feel that I write better in it than elsewhere. I feel that I've expressed myself in better ways on there. Sometimes, it's even tempting to unlock it and let the world in.

But wouldn't that take away from it's very effectiveness as the place where I set down certain of my thoughts and feelings (in pretend privacy)?

mood: contemplative tags: big damn feelings, questions, secrets, thoughts

Another poet I find appealing is Edna St. Vincent Millay. That's why I've bastardized text from one of her poems for tonight's journal entry title. It makes me happy to make titles that will evoke the feeling I had when I wrote an entry, when I read back through this record in the future. Perhaps it seems meaningless or unrelated to the entry for other people, but I know that I'll still see where it applies.
___

I think of all manner of things to write about when I'm at work. It's practically the only thing that keeps me sane. I sit in my chair, mindlessly editing an endless parade of medical requisitions, all the while composing long (and likely tedious) journal entries. Seventy-five percent of which never see the light of my laptop screen.

Life has been remarkably schizoid lately, which makes me wish I'd been writing out more of these work-induced ramblings. If I had, perhaps I'd have better records for myself. Things to read and realize how much changes and how much stays the same. I suppose I'm remedying that now, as long as my journal writing frenzy lasts this time.
___
( Read more... )

I have happier thoughts than those contained in this journal entry. But I think I'm going to post them in my SUPER SEEKRIT JOURNAL.

On a mildly related note, does anyone know if it is possible to switch the names on two of your own journals? I want to do that with two of my other journals, but fear it to be impossible.

mood: thoughtful music: Placebo - Meds (the music video)

I hate knowing that there is someone out there that I respect and admire who HATES me. I'm sure she'd disagree, were she to read this. For all I know, she may read this. Hell, I read her journal sometimes, because she's an amazing writer who makes me feel like all my words are dust and ashes. She's concise and witty. I think she'd say that she doesn't care enough about me to hate me...

She cooks as much as I do, but seems to write about it more. She is crafty and reads and loves the little special things the way I do.

I think that I'd really, really like to be her friend, though I think that she'd loathe my love of playing dress-up and abhor my social nature.

But she hates me without those things.

You know, we've never actually met, even.

Is it wrong to feel pained by a (virtual) stranger's distaste?

mood: annoyed

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you: The Cutest Outfit Ever™




Well, it is damned cute, at least, if not the cutest.



Ah, to return to the days of using cute for evil...

Now I must eat my half-assed version of Brazilian rice & beans (I wish I had bacon *sigh*), read some more Tim Powers or Weird Tales, then go to bed.

location: The Room Where I Do My Living mood: bouncy music: Add N to (X) - Ann's Eveready Equestrian tags: books, cute, dressing up, pictures, silly, the merc

So, in a completely schizophrenic change of mood:

I believe I have thought of an outfit to wear to Lucifer's Lounge tonight. An outfit so cute that the gods themselves shall come down from on high to go, "AW, LOOKIT HOW CUTES IT IS! ISN'T YOU SO ADOWABLE? YES, YOU ARE. YES, YOU ARE THE MOST ADOWABLE! YES, YOU, BEIN' ALL CUTE!"

Okay. Maybe it won't be that cute. But it's a pretty cute idea, nonetheless. I hope it works. I'm excited!

mood: amused

I'm still in a mainly good mood, however!

Just on a different level of my mind!

Like a layer cake!

This weekend is already beginning to feel like something I dreamt once.

The divide between my working life and my playing life is deep and treacherous, and I feel like I'm teetering between sides on that rope bridge from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Yeah. Pleasant thought, that.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't hell here. Not by any means. It's just hard to be in a place where I'm surrounded by such normal people. Before you ask, no, I cannot define 'normal' in this context.

People often ask me to explain what I mean by 'normal' and why it spikes my anxiety to such an extent. It's hard to explain. These people seem to inhabit a world separate from mine, even while sharing a room with me. There is a membrane between us. Every time I'm forced to hold a conversation with anyone here for more than a minute, I find my hands shaking and my heart pounding from the effort of holding myself in. Right now, they all think I'm quirky. When I make jokes, I get blank looks. When I talk about my life, I get laughs. Everyone treats me as if I am the strange and mildly backwards person here.

I should return to working now...

mood: frustrated tags: impatient, wobbly brain, work, worried

I was just reading through my semi-secret journal and came across something I wrote that made me feel good about my wit. So, presented here for my own ego-boosting enjoyment:

"there are lovely things and genuine humans (gom jabbar-tested, reverend mother-approved!)"

It made me giggle, especially since I'd forgotten that I'd written it. Now, give me a moment while I preen.

mood: amused

Have I told you that I adore the poetry of Theodore Roethke? I do. Just so you know. In fact, I would (someday) like to go to the place where he died. It's a zen garden on Bainbridge Island, I believe. That isn't what it was when he died there. At the time, it was a swimming pool owned by a family that had befriended him. He drowned (mysteriously, really) in it. Later, the family gifted their property to the city to be made into a large garden-park, with the pool being filled in and transformed into the aforementioned zen garden. I think I'd like to have a picnic there.
____

Moving along, I realized that I hadn't set fingers to keys and written any sort of meaningful journal entry lately. For quite awhile, it seems. I tend not to write anything weightier than the occasional 'I'm alive!' update on here, as it is. Sad, but true. I fear the eyes of so many people I have good opinions of scanning my words and judging their worthiness to be read. Measuring my meanings and tasting my words, finding them heavy and unpalatable. Have I ever told you that I am batshit insane? I often suspect it myself. I'd be surprised if you haven't harbored suspicions of your own.

Honestly, I am more inclined to write my serious entries in my other journal (well, one of the other seven journals). This would be the journal that is mostly filled with secret things (not really terribly secret, in the long run) and thinly veiled references to my oft-hemorrhaging emotions. I tend to write, even in the so-called semi-secret journal, all of my entries in vague and metaphorical ways. I don't know if it's a defense against all those needle-sharp details or the hard/cold realities of painful situations, but it's what I've always done.

That said, I love my other journal. I like to go back and re-read the entries sometimes, which is something I never do on this one.
____

I am not entirely sure why I'm writing something that seems serious on here right now. Likely, this is a product of my sleep-deprived mind, feeding on hormonal imbalance and a distinct feeling of surreality.

Actually, I am in an amazingly good mood right now. I am in the midst of flirtation, which generally puts me at (what I feel is) my best. It makes me feel somehow heightened. More vivid and real than I usually do, I suppose. Limned in a light that I sometimes fear I've lost.

I feel more real than I have for a very, very long time. Seattle is beginning to feel like home. Polyamory is finally beginning to feel like a lifestyle I'm living, not a lifestyle I talk about (while being too anxious to pursue, or allow myself to be pursued) while hiding from the reality of letting other people's realities converge (and merge) with my own.

Now, if I can only get past my fear of writing, I will be an exceedingly happy girl-creature. It's difficult to overcome the thought (blindly wriggling in its burrow in your brain) that you've lost it. The thing that makes you able to write. The power to describe what lives in the space between your eyes and the pit of your stomach. To make other people feel the twisting taking place somewhere in the vicinity of your breastbone and your heart, fluttering (both wild and feeble, in turns) against your ribcage.

What if it's gone?
____

Disregard the mildly melancholy tone of the last few paragraphs, if you will. I am really, truly in the best of moods. It is only tinged with the sepia tone of darker moods. But doesn't the touch of bitter serve to emphasize the sweet? Tiredness has a cruel habit of leading my mind down pensive paths.

I am happy.

location: The Room Where I Do My Living mood: pensive music: Ladytron - Ghosts tags: anticipation, halloween, happiness, holidays, man i am good, meaning, melancholia, poetry, social obligations, theodore roethke, thoughts, writer's block

I was just thinking about the Twilight series and thought of a question I cannot answer...

Basically, I consider the Twilight books to be crap*.

BUT...

A lot of young people (particularly girls) are eating up these Twilight books like candy. Not enough modern young people read anymore.

So, would I rather that young people read crap...

Or that they don't read at all?

*sigh*

It's a hard question, for a variety of reasons. What do you think?

*I am not trying to insult those of my friends who have read (or are reading) them. You don't have to agree with me and vice-versa. Personally, I found the paragraphs that I have read to be poorly voiced and poorly written. That is my opinion. I'd like to say that this does not make me an 'elitist' in the realm of books. My favorite author is Stephen King, for fuck's sake. I'll always believe that he's a genius and a ton of my friends will always believe that he's a talentless media-engorged hack. Whatev.

mood: working

a lack felt like silence

seeking filled, but

cacophony leaves me lost

i need a note to carry with me

a thread to guide me home

let's not be bullheaded

let me steal what i came for

so i can get out

i'll lose it all

when i turn around

run my fingers through

the fading form of desire

lick every bit of you

from my weary hands

mood: groggy

Did I ever tell you that my favorite children's movie of all time is Hook? Because it totally is. I even still own it on VHS. Sometimes, I even use the word 'bangarang'. Because it's totally rad. Which is why, when I found this on tresdon's journal, I had to yoink it and put it on my journal:



Moving along, I'd also like to state that I have just spent almost four hours reading livejournal. Which is WRONG and BAD. This is what happens when I decide that I just don't want to go on here for over two weeks. I miss birthdays, parties, depressing posts (some of which involve me!), and basically everything. Lovely, ain't it?

So here is my update:

I spent this weekend doing almost nothing. Sam went to PAX, which sold out before I could buy a pass. Well, then they added more passes, but I was too broke to get one. I was not, however, too broke to spend $20 on books at Half-Price Books yesterday. I love books. No one can keep us apart. NO ONE.

In more random news, I have begun seeing a therapist. Also, getting massage therapy and chiropractic care and seeing a dentist. Maybe if I can fix the physical shit and the past mental shit, I can figure out how to get where I want to go more easily. Or something. Of course, one visit in and I'm already contemplating leaving therapy. I can't handle someone looking/sounding bemused and perhaps skeptical when I am confiding in them. Yes, I am paranoid. So?

A friend contacted me recently. He makes me sad. I cried the last time we spoke on the phone.

Another friend did something, said something, offered something, argued something, is so confusing I cannot describe the situation or the words or the possible outcomes. It makes me want to go back to my books.

Tonight, I am considering going to Lounge Night at the Merc. Don't know what to wear. Don't know if I can afford it. Don't know if Heather is even coming home to change and head there.

In more lighthearted and amusing news, my father's side of the family believes that my stepmother is poisoning my father. Isn't that funny?

mood: restless

Rad Lovecraftian comic-ness! ^_^

Unspeakable

Posted using ShareThis

Today, I look pretty. I feel pretty. Also, I am going to go to Pike Place Market and pick up comic boxes and food. Then, I shall perhaps travel to Cap Hill and get myself some random sewing stuffs. Then, coffee? Tea? Seafood shopping at Uwajimaya?

Dunno. If anyone wants to keep me company, give me a call or text...

mood: busy

Would anybody out there like to go to the '80's night at the Mercury tonight with me?

Just throwin' it out there...

mood: crappy