I woke up this morning with cramps.
I grew worried that last week's ordeal isn't over. Then I got annoyed with the most unabraisive person in the world. Then I wanted to cry. So, I checked my calendar.
Oh.
I called my phone company to upgrade, but I already signed the ice cream thing and waited too long. Service rep was snotty, "Your email exchange was on August 14th, that was lyk, almost like a MONTH ago, and you're a dumbass." More or less.
I did cry. And called my mom.
She said to think of all the women before me who dealt with this before medication. They made it.
Or ended up institutionalized...
WOOOO!
I want to write about the beauty of autumn. About what this summer ended up being like. How I made it through Eco Rangers with fond memories. How the Renaissance Festival is in full swing. But all that's on my mind right now is that it's Thursday. I go to work soon, won't get home till nearly bed time, and then it's run run run till Saturday, at which time I probably won't be able to get a ride till Sunday morning, and consequently miss Beer for Boobs. Life is hard.
There are only 91 days left of the Conservation Corps. I can't wait for it to be over, I hate 10 hour days. I hate dealing with poor supervisors (Your handbook says you're not supposed to work when it's a million degrees? Well, in the past we've just had crews work through it. Yeah. I hate you too).
There's nothing I can do about it, so I need to continue the mindset of it being my sentence. That helped with Eco Rangers... but... Eco Rangers is done, and I'm still here.
Not to mention all the other crap I'm dumping on myself right now; worrying about "what's next" because that's all anyone cared about at the wedding. Whatever.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
A Once and Future King
As you may know, I've been ovaries deep in Game of Thrones of late. I still have about 200 pages before I can take a deep breath, read a few more chapters of Moby Dick, and then plunge back into the next 4 books, so that I will finally be able to talk to my friends again. Without spoilers.
Well, the back cover of my copy (Featuring Sean Bean < 3 in Aegon's sword throne) it reads, "Reminiscent of T.H. Whites a Once and Future King, this novel is an absorbing combination of blah blah blah, [myth], [history], [personal], [boobs]."
It's been on my mind, and from there, I go from talking about a gloriously addicting book that provides hours of fun, conversation with friends new and old, in addition to fantastically nerdy pick up lines, I proceed to talk about my feelings.
No one likes a break up.
A lot of me fears relationships as a whole simply because I know they will have to come to an end, and that means going through the Bitter Break-up. I guess that proves that deep down, I am in this relationship game for the long run, that my ultimate goal is to find someone that I will not have to ditch.
But in youth and adolescence, the end is inevitable (Like how Michael tells George Michael that he can't date Maybe, because he's 15 and even though they're not related, it WILL end).
Yet meanwhile, I watch close friends and beloved family members tie the knot.
The legacy of Josh the First still holds that the only point of dating is to scope out for marriage. It seems extreme and ultimate, yet ... yeah. To his credit (Josh the First easily holds a seat in my long time friend cabinet, anything I say about him is with the utmost respect) his views on relationships have become less extreme. Again though, who doesn't just want a lifetime of happiness?
So I tried Polyamory. I hate even saying that word. "Non-monogamy" works better... but what it comes down to is the idea that dating doesn't mean marriage. Dating means dating. It makes sense if you want to play the field, and the non-monog dialogues I learned hold true when it comes to HONESTY, youth, freedom and reckless decisions.
For example, when tumbling in the sheets with a new partner, having been on one, two, three whole dates by now and well, your belt is coming off. That is when you say, "Hey, I actually subscribe to a post-modern ideal of relationships, reminiscent of the "free-love" movement of Victoria Woodhull in the late 1800s, recognizing that we all have the right to enjoy our bodies on our own terms, and further, as Foucault would argue that our choices in relationships do not necessarily define ourselves as individuals. This being said, I am currently engaged in multiple relationships, each of us moving forward in constant dialogue based on honesty, safety and autonomy. Still wanna bone?"
In lay person terms, i.e. for those who don't feel it necessary to over analyze everything from major life decisions to what to have for breakfast, "Hey bro, I'm not looking for anything serious. K?"
Two whole significant summers ago, I found myself in a relationship that made sense. I liked it. I was in love. I became a Prince. His Prince.
Yet, in the Game of Thrones you either win or you die, and I am a King.
Well, the back cover of my copy (Featuring Sean Bean < 3 in Aegon's sword throne) it reads, "Reminiscent of T.H. Whites a Once and Future King, this novel is an absorbing combination of blah blah blah, [myth], [history], [personal], [boobs]."
It's been on my mind, and from there, I go from talking about a gloriously addicting book that provides hours of fun, conversation with friends new and old, in addition to fantastically nerdy pick up lines, I proceed to talk about my feelings.
No one likes a break up.
A lot of me fears relationships as a whole simply because I know they will have to come to an end, and that means going through the Bitter Break-up. I guess that proves that deep down, I am in this relationship game for the long run, that my ultimate goal is to find someone that I will not have to ditch.
But in youth and adolescence, the end is inevitable (Like how Michael tells George Michael that he can't date Maybe, because he's 15 and even though they're not related, it WILL end).
Yet meanwhile, I watch close friends and beloved family members tie the knot.
The legacy of Josh the First still holds that the only point of dating is to scope out for marriage. It seems extreme and ultimate, yet ... yeah. To his credit (Josh the First easily holds a seat in my long time friend cabinet, anything I say about him is with the utmost respect) his views on relationships have become less extreme. Again though, who doesn't just want a lifetime of happiness?
So I tried Polyamory. I hate even saying that word. "Non-monogamy" works better... but what it comes down to is the idea that dating doesn't mean marriage. Dating means dating. It makes sense if you want to play the field, and the non-monog dialogues I learned hold true when it comes to HONESTY, youth, freedom and reckless decisions.
For example, when tumbling in the sheets with a new partner, having been on one, two, three whole dates by now and well, your belt is coming off. That is when you say, "Hey, I actually subscribe to a post-modern ideal of relationships, reminiscent of the "free-love" movement of Victoria Woodhull in the late 1800s, recognizing that we all have the right to enjoy our bodies on our own terms, and further, as Foucault would argue that our choices in relationships do not necessarily define ourselves as individuals. This being said, I am currently engaged in multiple relationships, each of us moving forward in constant dialogue based on honesty, safety and autonomy. Still wanna bone?"
In lay person terms, i.e. for those who don't feel it necessary to over analyze everything from major life decisions to what to have for breakfast, "Hey bro, I'm not looking for anything serious. K?"
Two whole significant summers ago, I found myself in a relationship that made sense. I liked it. I was in love. I became a Prince. His Prince.
Yet, in the Game of Thrones you either win or you die, and I am a King.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Too Tired for Feelings
Waking up too early.
Working hard all day, mentally, physically, both.
Dealing with people, the environment, and myself.
Get home. Exhausted. Make a lunch for tomorrow and count the hours until it's ok to go to sleep again.
In those hours, in clarity of mind, feel. Feel things that I was too busy wallowing in to notice. Not now. I only have time for living these days.
But life goes on.
Working hard all day, mentally, physically, both.
Dealing with people, the environment, and myself.
Get home. Exhausted. Make a lunch for tomorrow and count the hours until it's ok to go to sleep again.
In those hours, in clarity of mind, feel. Feel things that I was too busy wallowing in to notice. Not now. I only have time for living these days.
But life goes on.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Not Wearing Pants, My Anti-Drug
Eyes snapped open after a failed attempt at an already too late bed-time.
The excitement to move is finally kicking in. Probably because tomorrow's the day.
Until this point, I felt reluctant, unmotivated and even hesitant about moving, but now it's actually happening, and entering a new space is always a fun process.
I couldn't stop thinking about my action plan: Wake up as if it were a work day, 5:45am up and at it, clean out the van, move my small boxes from the cabin into bigger boxes, manuever mattress from old room! ...
... But... do I want to try to move my bookshelf? It's perfect for my book needs in addition to being an ideal fit for Kraken's tank. What about my Encylopedia Brittanicas? They are heavy, but would provide knowledge as well as table space. I need a dresser. Is it worth purging ALL the clothes from my past, and hauling my big pine dresser out of the corner? It would be heavy, and probably wouldn't fit in this round of moving anyway... but... space! And decorations... I could bring my muskrat skin, and my Civil War poster, and my little black Dala Horse. My new room will be beautiful... but... I'll only be there for 5 months. 5 months of heavy living, I'll have to move in a LITTLE! So why not make it comfy?
At this point, I gave up on sleep, and did a preliminary purge of clothing. Only a small number of items didn't make the cut, but I got it down to three boxes, and that's including bedding!
And, as a hippie, who should own "nothing and nothing," I brace myself for future renegades.
Because let's say I set a long term goal of being accepted into "Project Conserve" in North Carolina next year. My experience by then will be a solid nudge. I even have a chance of being a LEADER!
And WHERE exactly?
Asheville. Asheville, North Carolina, a city who caught my eye years ago and commenced to woo. It's about time I ran to their arms, and under whims more realistic than in two days in the back of some stranger's truck.
Yeeeahh.... that happened.
I just checked out their website... the next term starts this September, and I'll be with my Minnesota Corps until December. Maybe I'll be in my new room a bit longer!
A lot is up in the air, but a lot is also solid.
After only two weeks in the Conservation Corps I feel my future stirring. ... I must avoid cliches that echo the t-shirts, "Resources Restored, Lives Changed."
But yeah, my life is already changed.
*Title taken from a lovely game of Cards Against Humanity. That, and I'm doing that thing where, because you never do laundry, when you do, you do as much as you most possibly can.
The excitement to move is finally kicking in. Probably because tomorrow's the day.
Until this point, I felt reluctant, unmotivated and even hesitant about moving, but now it's actually happening, and entering a new space is always a fun process.
I couldn't stop thinking about my action plan: Wake up as if it were a work day, 5:45am up and at it, clean out the van, move my small boxes from the cabin into bigger boxes, manuever mattress from old room! ...
... But... do I want to try to move my bookshelf? It's perfect for my book needs in addition to being an ideal fit for Kraken's tank. What about my Encylopedia Brittanicas? They are heavy, but would provide knowledge as well as table space. I need a dresser. Is it worth purging ALL the clothes from my past, and hauling my big pine dresser out of the corner? It would be heavy, and probably wouldn't fit in this round of moving anyway... but... space! And decorations... I could bring my muskrat skin, and my Civil War poster, and my little black Dala Horse. My new room will be beautiful... but... I'll only be there for 5 months. 5 months of heavy living, I'll have to move in a LITTLE! So why not make it comfy?
At this point, I gave up on sleep, and did a preliminary purge of clothing. Only a small number of items didn't make the cut, but I got it down to three boxes, and that's including bedding!
And, as a hippie, who should own "nothing and nothing," I brace myself for future renegades.
Because let's say I set a long term goal of being accepted into "Project Conserve" in North Carolina next year. My experience by then will be a solid nudge. I even have a chance of being a LEADER!
And WHERE exactly?
Asheville. Asheville, North Carolina, a city who caught my eye years ago and commenced to woo. It's about time I ran to their arms, and under whims more realistic than in two days in the back of some stranger's truck.
Yeeeahh.... that happened.
I just checked out their website... the next term starts this September, and I'll be with my Minnesota Corps until December. Maybe I'll be in my new room a bit longer!
A lot is up in the air, but a lot is also solid.
After only two weeks in the Conservation Corps I feel my future stirring. ... I must avoid cliches that echo the t-shirts, "Resources Restored, Lives Changed."
But yeah, my life is already changed.
*Title taken from a lovely game of Cards Against Humanity. That, and I'm doing that thing where, because you never do laundry, when you do, you do as much as you most possibly can.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Sunrise over the City
9:00am
Back on my Minneapolis turf.
Feeling as lost and disconnected as ever.
Home was good; delicious pork fat still clings to my bones.
I feel ready to really hit my new life... but my aggressively stubborn laziness stirs me into a fit. This morning, I returned to my (old?) apartment. They've already made it all nice, with rugs, light bulbs and a new shower curtain. I can't help but believe they did it on purpose to make me regret my decision to bail on a moment's notice. I am stuck financially. This might keep me tied to others while I really wish to be alone... but like Rita said, she wasted a lot of money on living alone that could have been saved if she was just ok with having roommates, and if this thing works out with Kathy's friend, I'll have a lot of money saved, and I'm sure it will be tolerable.
I am afraid of being too far away from friends, but the City as it is keeps us all quite close. Soon, the season will improve for the bicycles, and my world will be smaller.
I am hesitant to nest in a place I know isn't permanent. All the while fearing permanence.
I fear a living experience that will drive me apart from Kathy, even though evidence suggests that's impossible.
Then what about the Conservation Corps?
I start in one short week, and right of the bat, I'll be enlisted from early till 5:30 every day at least until March. It will be a brand new adventure, but not unlike many other adventures I've had. I'll make new friends and we'll grow close through organized activities. I will be able to shine as a bright new face, with talents, skills and quirks that will add to everyone's experience. It will foster my endeavors, my high hopes and dreams. It will blanket the next 10 months with a comfortably temporary security.
As I reach the dregs of my first cup of Cafetto coffee, the luke warm swill is... smooth... and easy on the palate. I miss home and the bitter, too long in the french press, parent preferred drug.
Last week, I left here sad and nostalgic. Now I'm back, sad and uncertain.
Feeling inspired though. Going to check off the blog roll!
Back on my Minneapolis turf.
Feeling as lost and disconnected as ever.
Home was good; delicious pork fat still clings to my bones.
I feel ready to really hit my new life... but my aggressively stubborn laziness stirs me into a fit. This morning, I returned to my (old?) apartment. They've already made it all nice, with rugs, light bulbs and a new shower curtain. I can't help but believe they did it on purpose to make me regret my decision to bail on a moment's notice. I am stuck financially. This might keep me tied to others while I really wish to be alone... but like Rita said, she wasted a lot of money on living alone that could have been saved if she was just ok with having roommates, and if this thing works out with Kathy's friend, I'll have a lot of money saved, and I'm sure it will be tolerable.
I am afraid of being too far away from friends, but the City as it is keeps us all quite close. Soon, the season will improve for the bicycles, and my world will be smaller.
I am hesitant to nest in a place I know isn't permanent. All the while fearing permanence.
I fear a living experience that will drive me apart from Kathy, even though evidence suggests that's impossible.
Then what about the Conservation Corps?
I start in one short week, and right of the bat, I'll be enlisted from early till 5:30 every day at least until March. It will be a brand new adventure, but not unlike many other adventures I've had. I'll make new friends and we'll grow close through organized activities. I will be able to shine as a bright new face, with talents, skills and quirks that will add to everyone's experience. It will foster my endeavors, my high hopes and dreams. It will blanket the next 10 months with a comfortably temporary security.
As I reach the dregs of my first cup of Cafetto coffee, the luke warm swill is... smooth... and easy on the palate. I miss home and the bitter, too long in the french press, parent preferred drug.
Last week, I left here sad and nostalgic. Now I'm back, sad and uncertain.
Feeling inspired though. Going to check off the blog roll!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Beware the Ides of November
I've been at Hard Times for a couple hours.
I woke up at Augsburg, and divvied out my bus fare for a cup of coffee and one refill. Sufficiently caffeinated, and tumbled out, I now blog.
Yesterday, I came to Augsburg and went to the Feminist Collective meeting. Erin runs it and it's fun to see the new faces and new view points, but it was also weird because I've been out of academia SO LONG... kinda... And when I used to go to Feminist Collective meetings, I would be pretty quiet, shy, reserved, hyper aware of my ignorance... but now, with a bunch of first years I feel like an overgrown snob.
After the meeting, Erin and I went to Kfai. Mayda was performing, and everyone was really excited. I worked on the blog, facebook, and made a tumblr. I really hope to become established with the social media thing.
Next week, The Sunny Era is playing, and I'm really excited to fan-girl out.
Today, knowing that my apartment will only bring sleep and dismay, I have stayed in Cedar Riverside.
I read a letter yesterday. A letter offering free fare for three weeks of the Arizona Renaissance Festival. I'd let that dream fizzle after the North Carolina blunder, but suddenly, with my current state of affairs, the prospect again seems promising.
I don't want to be dependent on anyone though, and I thought, "Hell, if I go for three weeks, why not go for the whole thing?" So I emailed John Coiner Pottery where my dad worked many years ago. I know pottery, I know Ren Fairs, February and March suck... sooo...
But the mere THOUGHT of North Carolina lost me my place in my band, and I worry that two months away might hurt my position with the Cocktails, and I love them.
If I went, I'd somehow pay for December rent, and then move home for a couple months. It couldn't be that bad... right? ... Again, I go through all that I know that I MUST do to stay healthy at home, and know that I'd get fat on the red chair watching Netflix.
And college loans.
Wtf.
I'm considering trying to busk Christmas songs, but I'm scared of panhandling politics. And trumpets are loud. Yesterday, I read an article about a Carlton student who juggled to pay rent, and now she's all professional. I want to build my own Hurdy Gurdy.
Fred and Daley showed up. I'm going to go read by them.
I woke up at Augsburg, and divvied out my bus fare for a cup of coffee and one refill. Sufficiently caffeinated, and tumbled out, I now blog.
Yesterday, I came to Augsburg and went to the Feminist Collective meeting. Erin runs it and it's fun to see the new faces and new view points, but it was also weird because I've been out of academia SO LONG... kinda... And when I used to go to Feminist Collective meetings, I would be pretty quiet, shy, reserved, hyper aware of my ignorance... but now, with a bunch of first years I feel like an overgrown snob.
After the meeting, Erin and I went to Kfai. Mayda was performing, and everyone was really excited. I worked on the blog, facebook, and made a tumblr. I really hope to become established with the social media thing.
Next week, The Sunny Era is playing, and I'm really excited to fan-girl out.
Today, knowing that my apartment will only bring sleep and dismay, I have stayed in Cedar Riverside.
I read a letter yesterday. A letter offering free fare for three weeks of the Arizona Renaissance Festival. I'd let that dream fizzle after the North Carolina blunder, but suddenly, with my current state of affairs, the prospect again seems promising.
I don't want to be dependent on anyone though, and I thought, "Hell, if I go for three weeks, why not go for the whole thing?" So I emailed John Coiner Pottery where my dad worked many years ago. I know pottery, I know Ren Fairs, February and March suck... sooo...
But the mere THOUGHT of North Carolina lost me my place in my band, and I worry that two months away might hurt my position with the Cocktails, and I love them.
If I went, I'd somehow pay for December rent, and then move home for a couple months. It couldn't be that bad... right? ... Again, I go through all that I know that I MUST do to stay healthy at home, and know that I'd get fat on the red chair watching Netflix.
And college loans.
Wtf.
I'm considering trying to busk Christmas songs, but I'm scared of panhandling politics. And trumpets are loud. Yesterday, I read an article about a Carlton student who juggled to pay rent, and now she's all professional. I want to build my own Hurdy Gurdy.
Fred and Daley showed up. I'm going to go read by them.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Domestic Blog
I'm on a blogroll.
I don't think I actually know what a blogroll really is, but it's not being underlined in red, so it must be real.
Yeah... so it is what I thought it was... a roll of blogs... but anyway.
I'm on a roll. I woke up this morning with a Walking Dead/Breaking Bad influenced zombie vampire animorph queer romance fan-fic dream in my head. When I sat down to write the one bit, a whole plot developed, and it's actually quite cool. Though it weirded me out when I transitioned to teenage girl handwriting when I did it. Hm.
Then I wrote my first Live From Studio Five blog. Check it out!
THEN I wrote on my Tumblr.
Now, I write in my quiet, domestic blog.
Because, Ah! As much as I would have loved to go to Farm Party, Erin couldn't, and now I get a whole day to recharge, not blast my liver, and prepare for coming adventures. I can read Moby Dick, The Ethical Slut, or my beloved, "Social Civics." I can nap unbounded, stay up watching Arrested Development, or go to bed early.
Then, tomorrow, I will be totally charged for my long awaited video game date. Well rested, and not hazed with other lovers and hang overs. So that maybe I will actually enjoy my video game experience. Granted they do actually share, and don't get bored after 20 minutes of Mario Kart because they are actually into video games, and would rather play some intricate role play for one person while I sit on the sidelines trying fretfully to follow the plot for some kind of entertainment as I simultaneously try not to gauge my eyes out with the assortment of writing utensils I can now carry freely in my new back pack...
I look forward to today.
I don't think I actually know what a blogroll really is, but it's not being underlined in red, so it must be real.
Yeah... so it is what I thought it was... a roll of blogs... but anyway.
I'm on a roll. I woke up this morning with a Walking Dead/Breaking Bad influenced zombie vampire animorph queer romance fan-fic dream in my head. When I sat down to write the one bit, a whole plot developed, and it's actually quite cool. Though it weirded me out when I transitioned to teenage girl handwriting when I did it. Hm.
Then I wrote my first Live From Studio Five blog. Check it out!
THEN I wrote on my Tumblr.
Now, I write in my quiet, domestic blog.
Because, Ah! As much as I would have loved to go to Farm Party, Erin couldn't, and now I get a whole day to recharge, not blast my liver, and prepare for coming adventures. I can read Moby Dick, The Ethical Slut, or my beloved, "Social Civics." I can nap unbounded, stay up watching Arrested Development, or go to bed early.
Then, tomorrow, I will be totally charged for my long awaited video game date. Well rested, and not hazed with other lovers and hang overs. So that maybe I will actually enjoy my video game experience. Granted they do actually share, and don't get bored after 20 minutes of Mario Kart because they are actually into video games, and would rather play some intricate role play for one person while I sit on the sidelines trying fretfully to follow the plot for some kind of entertainment as I simultaneously try not to gauge my eyes out with the assortment of writing utensils I can now carry freely in my new back pack...
I look forward to today.
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