Earlier this week I was talking to some Holiday Haters on G+. Now, they hate celebrating holidays for a number of reasons: they're asocial, they're lonely, they hate gifts, they hate people... something along those lines. I dislike the holiday season for the sheer reason that I'm not a Christian and it really annoys me that the typical greeting this time of year is "Merry Christmas!" Because it's apparently assumed that everyone is a Christian this time of year and we're all going to go home to a Christmas tree where we can then worship Santa and call him Jesus. 


Yeah, those are my holiday plans.


I pointed this out and someone replied, in the bitchest fashion one can online, that they're also upset when people wish for them to be happy. 


No, I had to point out, they're not wishing me happiness, they're wishing I have a merry Christmas. There's a difference. It's like walking up to someone on a day that's not their birthday and wishing them a Happy Birthday. More importantly, on my actual birthday no one that wished me a Merry Christmas seemed to care even though the Jewish barista (I'm assuming she's Jewish because she had a David's Star necklace) wished me a Merry Christmas today but when I went to get my free Starbucks on my birthday no one said anything except, "Grande Pike's Place with steamed nonfat milk, ten splendas and one shot of sugar-free vanilla."


... I like sweet things.


Either way this all ends up boiling down into the person going on about Christmas spirit and inviting all non-believers to celebrate the holidays to which I replied with, "I donate crap I don't want to people that need it more than I do year round, no just at Christmas. I donate money to people, not organizations, year round. And are you honestly insulted that I don't want to celebrate the birth of a man that doesn't exist and if he did wasn't even born this time of year?"


Really, are you? Because I don't want to celebrate anyone's birthday that isn't a good friend or blood relative. And I at least celebrate those within the appropriate season.

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The other day, thanks to my a repost from an anorexic on my Xanga blog (ironic, I know)  I ran across this awesome post on 30 things you should stop doing to yourself. To my credit, I stopped doing most of them last year when I read No More Mr. Nice Guy. It's a rather long post with detailed explanations and examples of each one so I'm just going to put up the thirty and hope size doesn't matter.


  1. Stop spending time with the wrong people.
  2. Stop running from your problems.
  3. Stop lying to yourself.
  4. Stop putting your needs on the back burner.
  5. Stop trying to be someone you're not.
  6. Stop trying to hold onto the past.
  7. Stop being scared to make a mistake.
  8. Stop berating yourself for old mistakes.
  9. Stop trying to buy happiness.
  10. Stop exclusively looking to others for happiness.
  11. Stop being idle.
  12. Stop thinking you're not ready.
  13. Stop getting involved in relationships for the wrong reasons.
  14. Stop rejecting new relationships just because the old ones didn't work.
  15. Stop trying to compete against everyone else.
  16. Stop being jealous of others.
  17. Stop complaining and feeling sorry for yourself.
  18. Stop holding grudges.
  19. Stop letting others bring you down to their level.
  20. Stop wasting time explaining yourself to others
  21. Stop doing the same things over and over without taking a break.
  22. Stop overlooking the beauty of small things.
  23. Stop trying to make things perfect.
  24. Stop following the path of least resistance.
  25. Stop acting like everything is fine when it isn't.
  26. Stop blaming others for your troubles.
  27. Stop trying to be everything to everyone.
  28. Stop worrying so much.
  29. Stop focusing on what you don't want to happen.
  30. Stop being ungrateful.

15 and 16 are my biggest problems. I swear, whenever I play the Deadly Sin game (where you basically pick a deadly sin that's most like you) I always pick envy because my entire day is so filled with jealously I think the gray matter in my brain has gone green. I try to tell myself that my situation is different / unique and I can't do A, B, or C but it never works. 


It's funny because I'm jealous about things I don't even want. For instance, I flush green whenever I'm with someone who has a college degree. The ironic thing about it is that I'll tell everyone how useless they are, how they don't increase your overall pay, how they've been proven ineffective in teaching critical thinking skills and how trade schools are better because not only do you learn a trade but they're cheaper and, since everyone is going to college, trade professions are in demand . Hell, I dropped out of college twice to go to trade school and would make the same decision all over again if I had to.


To make things even better most of the college graduates mistakenly believe I am a college graduate because I've read so much I can debate just about anything.


To make things even better than they were with that last statement my interests are so varied and I'm so passionate about them that when I do find a college graduate with a degree in something I'm interested in I know more than they do.


Yet I'm jealous, literally, over a piece of paper that just proves someone has more tenacity than I do.


The other 28 things I'm great with. I'm no longer idle because I "conquered" my fear of success by pursuing failure and making mistakes. Making mistakes is awesome. 


In other news, I bought a Groupon for a weight loss clinic so my best friend and I could go together. And then she forgot to buy the Groupon despite it being her idea so I ended up going alone only to find out that...


As per BMI, I'm 17 pounds above the maximum weight for my height but I have more muscle than previously believed. First the machine measured the muscle in each limb and your torso, then it quantitated that in a measurement I'm not accustomed to but put a ratio bar next to it.


The ideal is that you work towards having 100% of your necessary muscle for your height. I had 117% of the necessary muscle for my height in my arms, 116% for my torso and 107% for each leg. Then I had 15 pounds of pure fat that the tech seemed oddly insulted by. I was excited that I only had 15 pounds of fat. I almost want to keep that around just in case I ever find myself on a plane that crashes into a mountain or a body of water and I'm forced to go without food for weeks at a time. 


In that same vein I had exit row seating on the plane leaving Seattle. It was hilarious how seriously they take that exit. They made sure everyone understood their duty for sitting in the exit row and that we all felt we could physically do the job. They even pulled one guy to the side because he had an arm brace and requested he remove it and show that he has full use of that hand.


I really wanted to point out to them that there is almost no way, as close to the front of the plane that we were, that we would survive a crash let alone be there to help anyone out of the plane. I laughed the entire time. I don't know why they let me stay in the exit row.

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Don't you love it when you realize it's a week before Christmas and you haven't even started your Christmas shopping? What? That never happens to you? Me either, I'm normally done by the first day of December. Then again, I am that person who buys all the presents I'll need for a given month the last week of the month before, wraps them and then props them up in the closet until they're needed.


I'm going to get so many people gift cards... Do eight year olds like Starbucks?


That said, I've found my poetry books! Yes, I use real books to select poems because I just can't read a poetry book, or a comic, on my Nook. It somehow invalidates the reading. Now that I've found the books, I can start tagging poems to look up and post. Joy.


My mother was a rolling stone.



It was a good deal like that song minus the implications of neglect... which I suppose makes it nothing at all like that song. It's a great song anyway. Either way, my mother was a rolling stone; she loved to move. I honestly think she lived for moving. We moved at least once a school year excluding that time that we stayed for three years in the same house. We were all bored with it by the time we finally left.


One thing my mother imbued in me was the desire for change. I  can't stand being in the same place for any duration of time. About a year after I live anywhere, unless I've made plans to move, I'll start rearranging the furniture. Then I'll rearrange the rooms. Then I'll redesign the rooms. Then I'll go on a massive spree of tossing things out or giving them away until I've reduced myself to an existence a minimalist would find austere.


Then I start to find myself drawn to boxes, bags and ads for new places to live. I start leaving the city on whatever trips I can afford. I stop going home because home bores me. 


It's actually rather hilarious.


This all eventually leads to me moving. The upside is, I've already gotten rid of things so I don't have to do that during the move.


This move was different. This one was slow, sad, elongated... Kenneth was rather depressing during the entire thing. On the upside, I did learn that gradually moving things is awesome.


Also, I started this entry two days ago and forgot where I was going with it... so...

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: AnJuli · 12/20/11 9:09 PM)

...has been unpacked.


That is all.


Psych class is over. The move is done. The boxes are unpacked. I can now start looking for normal in my life.

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I'm not dead, I swear. I spent a good few weeks just being insanely busy. Between work, the one class I was taking, the two classes I'm doing the coursework for (it's not my integrity I'm sacrificing when I agree to do someone's English assignments for profit) and the move, I haven't stopped moving since December.


I also took an awesome, yet ill-timed, trip to Seattle. I think I was the only person in the hostel doing homework. Thank god for online classes.


Either way, when I spend more than two weeks just doing things and not having any actual downtime to myself, my brain shuts down. I lose the ability to do anything except stare off into space for two days... and that's what I've been doing.


But I did it like a champ!


So I'm back. I'm behind on my coursework, have an essay I need to write that I haven't even researched and its' Finals week but it's nothing I can't recover from with a few hours of nose to the grindstoning it.


That said, it's the end of the year. I always find this time of year so ironic because everyone runs around doing end of the year things. The ironic part is that there are end of the year things to do. It's so humorous to me. One of the websites I frequent is a "blogger" who does an annual review at the end of each Calender year. 


I also stumbled upon another site that's doing a daily question where the end result is you planning next year while reviewing this year. 


That one I'm actually thinking about doing. The only thing stopping me is the fact that my year doesn't end on December 31st. In fact, the way I chart my life, my year started less than three months ago.


I was a September baby. Back in my youth I used to chart time as "The year that I turned -insert age here-" and then try to backtrack to what year that was. Seeing as I have a completely nonlinear sense of time, it was difficult. Now I just chart time by my birthday. Every year starts and ends on September 23rd; I don't care what the populace says. Calenders are silly anyway.


Really, they are


There's the yearly calender which starts on January first. There's the fiscal calender, my personal favorite since they almost got the first day right,  which starts on October first. There's the school calender which starts sometime between August fifteenth  and September first. They're all valid and all silly. The only people that start a new year on any of those dates are the ones that were born on those dates.


So I do my yearly review the week before my birthday. I go over my bucket list and six year plan the week before my birthday. It makes sense to me. It's better than counting time with me either leaving an age or turning one, either is inaccurate.


 I am looking forward to doing my annual review. It was interesting three months ago.


That said, I've decided that I adore traveling. I've been to Seattle, Chicago, and Toronto on solo trips. Atlanta with TheFiercestCalm, planning a trip to Denver with coworkers and one to Portland alone, and one to France / India / South Africa with TFC. We had initially picked France but then the price of our tickets went up so now we're trying to find a place that costs less to fly to.


>Do you know what Seattle, Chicago, Toronto and Atlanta all have in common? They're not Texas. Texas is, as it turns out, a very unique place. It's growing on me.




That's my favorite song of the moment. I don't know why, usually my favorite songs reflect the undercurrent of my life but that song is nothing at all like what I'm actually going through. For instance, when my subconscious first realized Kenneth and I weren't going to make it, I was in love with Slow Dancing in a Burning Room by John Mayer. When Kenneth and I first broke up, my favorite song was Mouth Shut by the Veronicas. The second breakup had My World by the Sick Puppies ruling my days. I think that was more a guilt response because the lyrics sound like they're about me. The time between the two my auditory canals were assaulted by Maybe by SP, Riptide by SP and Makes Me Wanna Die by the Pretty Reckless. It was a very empowering time for me.

...It helps to know that I really like death in the least suicidal way possible.


I remember being miserable when Home by 3 Days Grace ruled my days. I remember "finding myself" while Let Me Be Myself was the soundtrack of my life (and I was reading No More Mr. Nice Guy).


>I remember that one horrible week last month when all I wanted to listen to was Get Through This by Art of Dying. 


I'm not saying that one has to have a favorite song that correlates with their life at that moment, I'm just saying that I always do and it's odd that I'm listening to I Don't Want This Night to End.


You know what isn't odd? My best friend and I have a song

Whenever it comes on the radio we text each other. That's not gay, or, as she would say, "No homo but I love you."


I completely forgot what this post was supposed to be about but music wasn't it.

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: AnJuli · 12/13/11 2:09 PM)

Normally I go through and, after uploading the lot of pictures, manually insert them and resize them to medium. Seeing as this update is 65 pictures... that won't be happening. But it was a nice thought though, wasn't it?


Train! I can neither confirm nor deny if it were free.


Space Needle



Color vision test at the Pacific Science Center. I always thought my color vision was off and / or non-existent and this test proved me wrong and right. I saw everything, even the colors people with normal color vision weren't supposed to be able to see.


The Challenger. Allegedly.


Meal Worms.


Seattle Gray.


Inside the train of the future.




lol. Canadian money. I would pay so much to see one business in Texas with a sign outside that says, "We accept pesos."


EMP Museum = Best Museum ever. I did every exhibit twice.






Unobtanium will solve the national debt crisis.


This picture isn't creepy.



Still the EMP museum. I want to move to Seattle just to see the new exhibits they have here.
















Authentic Jason gear.


Axe from The Shining






Yes, you can attack me.




Nirvana... at the EMP museum.















This was like 2-3 stories high and made entirely of musical instruments. Some of them played.








Seattle Public Library. Yeah, I went there. However, I went too early and then forgot to go back. You know what's annoying? The Seattle PL and the Houston PL have the same hours.


Quaint! A detail shop in a parking garage.




Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: Lori · 12/10/11 8:22 AM)

Seattle is beautiful. As usual, I want to pack up all my belongings and move here. You know, I think I just want to live someplace that's near a body water where it's culturally and climatically acceptable to walk or ride a bike everywhere. j honestly think that's why Chicago and Toronto appealed to me so much. I was in love with Atlanta because the Five Forks area was full of people that I fit in with. 


That said, Seattle has the best aquarium ever. I'm basing this solely on the fact that they have these little tidepools where you're allowed to touch an animal. Sea anemones tentacles are not slimy. A sea cucumber not only looks like a sandworm from Dune but it's soft and squishy with hard spikes. They move by gyrations. Sea stars come in all textures. It was awesome.


Besides the tidepools the aquarium was on par with normal. 



Airport ready and my first meal in Seattle



Pike's Place



Not the original StarBucks. And look! The dog is wearing layers.



Original SB. By the way, a grande Pike's Place with soy milk and 8 Splendas cost the same here as it does in Houston. I appreciated it so much more here. 







Tasteful Concrete Park





My coworkers will mock this picture. Also DUUUUUUUUUUNE.



The Manta Ray was showing me its' dirty bits. Also, when viewing large fish at the aquarium, the inappropriate thing to ask is, "Which one is edible?" 



Nessie, clearly. Not a sea lion but the Loch Ness monster. The Seattle aquarium has the Loch Ness Monster



For a place that was 8 degrees above freezing, the city had a lot of signs advertising ice cream. In unrelated news, when you take a picture of yourself, isn't it supposed to be good?



The train... from the future.



The only bad thing about being black? Taking pictures at night with a cheap camera means using flash and getting rid of city lights or not using flash and getting rid of yourself.


In other news, my roommate was super nice. When I came in the room she was like, "Oh, you're so cute! You must be from the West coast." To which I responded with, "No, Texas." She then said she didn't know Texans were so chic. I was complimented until...


She spent the next hour telling me about the reptilian draconian alien vampires that have taken over the government.


I thought she was having me on for the first twenty minutes so I was humoring her. Then I realized she was being serious and I seriously considered asking for a new room. Or having her committed. She was nice though so it made up for a lot.


We really bonded over my tale of unrequited love and her being in love with her abusive husband who happens to be an alien shapeshifter. In related news, she thinks the object of my unrequited love may have been into me; she also thinks her husband is an alien shapeshifter.  To her credit, he's only abusive by human terms. He's not human, you know, he's an alien shapeshifter and when he possessed his best friend's body and forced her, using the links left by the government mind control she underwent after being kidnapped from her parents before she was born, to seduce him, it may have been rape in human terms but he's not human. Telling the aliens not to possess bodies and rape people is like telling water not to be wet. 


We also bonded over my love for my sister, which is what's preventing me from leaving Houston, and her love for her shape-shifting alien husband which is why she came back to Seattle. I totally understood the motivation though, if the object of my unrequited affection wanted me to leave Houston to be with him, I would visit my loving sister every single weekend.


...Yeah. That conversation happened. 

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: Francine Kelly · 7/15/15 4:48 PM)

Every now and then I find myself wondering: how much of a girl am I? Really? I mean, all the right bits are there but mentally, especially as far as interests go, I tend to be a bit more aligned with males than females. I honestly think that's because a lot of my interests are nerdy and that's a field dominated by the boys. Not populated, dominated.


The other day I realized my tire was leaking. It either needs to be replaced or it needs to be fixed. I'm not sure. I've been so busy with work and moving that I haven't had the time, or inclination, to get it looked at but I vowed to myself that I would get it done yesterday.


Then I got an email from my favorite boot store advising me that they were having a sale. Now, I don't wear girly boots, I wear combat boots. I have one pair of girly cowboy boots that I wear maybe twice a month, some heels I wear when I don't feel like wearing my boots and a pair of Doc Marten Mary Janes that I wear whenever I can get the outfit to go with them. I don't have dress or girly boots. No one sells combat boots in my area so I buy them online.


The store is based in San Francisco and I really want to go there just to visit the store. Either way...


So I'm checking my email yesterday and the majority of the sale is devoted to custom boots, which I detest, but the very last pair mentioned to be on sale was my favorite pair that I didn't buy earlier this year because they're only shipped to the US twice a year and I needed boots a month before the next shipment were to occur.


So guess what I did instead of getting my car tire fixed? Just guess where that money went?



Yes, those are two different pairs of boots. The first are the exact same size and brand of the first pair of combat boots I ever owned. The second are for my dressier days. That's 400$ worth of boot for 200$. The absolute best thing about boots is the fact that, when properly cared for, they last 5-10 years. If you get them resoled they can last indefinitely. With the wear I put on shoes I'm happy when anything lasts a year with me. It's one of the reasons I'm a boot girl. The other is they're dead sexy.


In addition to my, um, Seasonally Appropriate Atheist Celebration of Self present, making the RenFest dress made me fall in love with sewing. I want to do it more often. I want to make my own clothes. I want to make my own cute clothes. You know what? I want to have style. But I don't want to have just any style, I want to have my style. I want to do like a... gothic chic sophisticate style.


And I want to sew my own clothes. Preferably in shades of black with skulls and whatnot... because that's what I like. 


So... since I'm still rather new at this sewing thing and there's no way I could possibly do it well without instructions, I bought some more patterns. I did it right this time and did a price comparison across various websites to find the absolute cheapest of each thing I wanted.




Hm. The pictures refuse to get any larger which is ironic because they're huge on the website.


Either way, all those dresses in black will be darling



Photos (7)
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I moved the day before yesterday and today. There are about a dozen things that I still need from the old apartment but the lease isn't up until the 15th and I really wanted to get things settled so I can go on vacation and celebrate... well, the fact that I can go on vacation. I suppose I could celebrate freedom but I've never felt oppressed enough to feel that freedom deserved a celebration.


I really wish I hadn't lost my camera midway through packing...



Freshly washed clothes and my Yaris being used like a Uhaul. You can't really tell from that picture, or any other, that the backseat is folded over. Yes, my clothes are on hangers and in trash bags. I've found it's the most efficient way to move them.








My room! I meant to take pictures of the house but I didn't find the camera until my roommate was asleep and I didn't want to wake her up by walking around and taking pictures.


I'm going to get the wall decorations from my apartment for the wall here. Nothing annoys me more than blank spaces; that's one of the reasons I'm such a fan of tattoos. My coworker was supposed to help me cart my bookcase over yesterday but he bailed at the last minute. It's a full size bookcase (big enough to fit all those boxes of books) and there's no way it's going anywhere near the Yaris.





This is my bathroom. All mine, just mine. Totally mine.



Bathroom decorations...




My room in relation to the bathroom. It's the last two doors down the hall. There's an office across the hall from mine that no one uses. All mine.

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: AnJuli · 12/4/11 8:03 AM)

In other news, poetry posts restart next week. I didn't realize that I was out of drafts until last Thursday, Thanksgiving, and I technically should be utilizing my time today to move, not blog. But next Thursday? Most definitely.


A few years back I attempted polyphasic sleeping as a way to maximize my waking hours. It was somewhat successful except for one little thing...




Background? Yes, that would be nice.


Humans are the only animals with a monophasic sleep cycle and, oddly enough, we don't start out that way. Monophasic, mono meaning one, phasic meaning... phase, is the act of sleeping once a day. In the case of adult humans, that 8 hours you take when the sun is down and then wake up cranky and bitter. Babies, toddlers, and small children are all on polyphasic sleep cycles. How often do they wake up grumpy?


Last year I considered the Uberman sleep cycle, where one takes six twenty-minute naps instead of one four hour rest. It's the sleep equivalent of eating healthy snacks instead of a meal. It's supposed to work... but if you miss a nap you crash and, with the uncertainty of my average work day, I didn't want that crash to be literal.


I can't find the link or name for the polyphasic cycle that worked for me but it involved taking a core nap of 2 or 3 hours than utilizing twenty minute naps during the rest of the day to make it up to 4 or 5 hours. I was doing a 3 hour core and 3 twenty minute naps. 


It worked awesomely. The only way I got it to work, however, was to stay up late then wake up and go jogging. Jogging got me out of bed and it gave me a reason (the smell) not to get back into bed.


Kenneth had complaints. Said complaints mostly involved the lack of me laying down with him. Once I agreed to lay down with him, it was over. If you're sleeping four hours a day, the minute you stop actively doing something, you're one blink away from sleep. I proved that countless times before giving up.


Now that Kenneth and I aren't so much anymore, and I'm moving out, I can go back to the polyphasic cycle I keep at work. It's going to be fantastic.

Of course, there is one downside... when you polyphasic, you get incredibly hungry. Your body starts to send out these little "give me energy" signals to your brain and your brain has two methods of coping with them: telling you to eat or telling you to sleep. Sleep is what you're avoiding. Eating... well, I'll have to get a lot of apples and salads for the first few days.


The best part about this all? I get to start today. I moved most of my stuff yesterday, the rest today (I have pictures in the camera I can't find), then I work tomorrow (at the busiest station on the second busiest day of the week), have plans with friends on Saturday that will keep me out late then work Sunday (slower station but a possibly busy day). Monday I'm leaving on a jet plane. Tuesday and Wednesday, in Seattle, Thursday, partially Seattle, partially plane. Friday, work, Saturday, work. 


My point? I'm going to be actively moving every day until Sunday after next. I think I'll use the plane and airports to do my homework.Studying does a better job of keeping me awake then reading.

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 2 (Last: AnJuli · 12/2/11 12:41 PM)

...and not in that way, I mean, well, yes, in that way but that's not what this is about.


The way the work schedule is arranged we work 24 hours then have 3 days off. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, actually. Either way, I usually pick up an overtime shift, or half a shift, and don't use my full three days off. We-ell... I noticed that during the first week of December I have three days off with no overtime shift breaking it up.


The first thing I thought upon seeing that, "I should go out of town!" At which point I started to really think about it.


If I start packing now, and I've already been cleaning things out, I should be done right around the first of the month. One of my coworkers wanted to swap my 5th of December for their 4th of December so I would have four, not three, days off. This is perfect for a vacation!


I considered  going up to North Carolina to visit my day but I would be up there from Monday-Thursday and he's career military: they work during the week. I pulled up my bucket list to see what cities were on it.


The Bucket List has a few cities on it, none of which are in the US, so it wasn't much help in that aspect. It did however have "Use every City Pass available".


I went to the City Pass website and started checking the prices to see how much it would cost to fly to each city. 


After which I went to the Hostel International website to see which city, had a hostel with a room available for the dates I needed it.


This all came down to me choosing.... Seattle.


The year I was in 12th grade we lived in Washington state in this little town about 20 minutes south of Seattle and north of Tacoma named Kent. It was horrible. I had no friends and, having spent my entire life in the south, no notion of what to do when you go an entire season without seeing the sun. It would be dark when I got on the bus to go to school, sunny during the day when I was stuck in a stuffy classroom, and dark on the busride back. 


I was at least five kinds of miserable. 


I was shy, scared of my own shadow and the kids that ate lunch in the library so I ended up eating lunch behind the kitchen. About midway through the year I found out that Seniors could eat lunch off campus so I, lacking a car, walked to the only place close enough that allowed me walk there, get food, and get back before my 30 minutes was up: McDonald's.


Every day for lunch I would have fries and a chocolate sundae.


I gained 40 pounds.


To date I've only lost about half of what I gained that year.


I can't wait to go back and see the cold, dark, misty daytime twilight with new eyes. 


I'll know Monday if the scheduler approved the trade that will give me four days off. The moment I get that email, I'm buying the plane ticket and booking the hostel. 

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 4 (Last: Lori · 11/28/11 10:05 AM)

It's the thing you never seem to get over; the thing that mocks you as scratch days off the calender and wonder, "When does time kick in? When does my pain dissipate?" The days where you wake up, innocent that the feeling will resurface, are only slightly worse than the days where the agony surrounds you, drowns you, suffocates you.


It always starts off simple enough: you wake up early to finish the unfinished tasks of yesterday. You're free to just be, to find yourself, to complete everything that always seems to just beyond the reach of a normal day's doings. Then you hear the song he recommended, you see a flash of a car similar to his from your window, you stumble upon an advertisment for baby bottles and note the only person you've ever seriously considered having children with stepped silently from your life and didn't bother to leave a forwarding address.


So you sit there, tasks forgotten, watching the sunrise and wondering, "When I remove today from the calender, can I erase the memory of his last hug from my arms?" It's not until the sun has taken over the sky and the lives of seven billion people bustle into your day that you realize he's taken the sunrise too.


A few months back, when Kenneth and I first broke it off, one of my coworkers offered me a place to live in her absolutely mangificient house. The problem? She wanted 700 a month. Now, that might be cheap in any place but Houston. 


My old apartment was loft-style with a kitchen, half-bathroom, living room and patio downstairs then a huge bedroom, full bath and walk-in closet upstairs. It was 866 square feet and the part of town it was in wasn't horrible. I lived about half a mile north of a the major street that separate the not-so-good part from the good part. And the not-so-good part was only bad when compared to how awesome the good part was. South of the street was maybe a rape every month, not gang warfare and dead babies. It wasn't any more unsafe than most of America.


That apartment was 575$ a month and I got 50$ off monthly for signing a year long contract. The apartment we have now is 830$ a month for two bedrooms, two bathrooms and 1150 square feet. It's huge. Both complexes had more amenities than I needed or used.


700$ a month, in Houston, is your own apartment, bills and some money left over. I wasn't going to pay that to rent a room.


Now I realize that people are trying to make / save money so I set my budget at 500$ a month, including bills, and it had to be on a decent part of town. If Kenneth moved out right now and I rented the second bedroom for 500$ a month, all bills paid, at the worst I'd break even. At best, I'd make about 100$ a month. 


Either way, the coworker's boyfriend is moving from his house, he bought a new one, but the current market made selling his old one a financially idiotic notion so he wanted to rent it to me and the friend that hopes to leave Houston. I can't afford it alone and she doesn't want it so he mentioned it to me on FB today and...


I told him I couldn't afford it. Then he asked about the coworker and I told him that I couldn't afford hers either. He asked what I could afford and ten minutes later she sent me a text offering 500$ a month plus 50$ for utilities. 


Granted, that's 50$ more than I wanted to spend but I'll save that much in gas and I don't have to live with strangers. I've also already seen her place and the set-up she has is going for about 700$  a month on Craigslist.


Lodging - settled. Now I can go back to studying and worrying about everything except where I'll live next month.


That said, when I have the money I'm so buying a house and renting out the rooms. People are cleaning up in that deal. 

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 3 (Last: Lori · 11/21/11 9:46 AM)

I called my step-grandma yesterday to arrange to see the apartment. When my mother told me about it was a free, utilities only, two bedrooms, about half an hour from my job. When step-grandmother told me about it was 500$  plus utilities, two bedrooms and the locations hadn't changed.


She followed up the rent request with, "Or whatever you can afford. I rented it to Tim for free for ten years..."


Really? Is there a polite way to follow that up? So I'm back to looking for strangers to share my life with. 500$ plus utilities is the most expensive offer I've been given. I can get my own apartment for 500$ plus utilities; why would I spend that on a room? That said, I've been given a firm maybe by one renter who is charging more than I want to pay but is in a really good area and I would be half a hop from work. A new leasing came up the other day for a place that's literally on the same street as the station I work at and they're cheaper than most.


In totally related news, there are people renting couches! There are people in one bedroom homes that are renting out their living room / couch sleeping rights, for the low price of 150. I seriously considered calling them.

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 0

Email Transcript between Renter and Rentee:


Me: Hi,

Do you still have the room for rent? Is there anyway I can come see it on Sunday, Tuesday morning or Wednesday?
Renter: Do you live here?
Me: "Here" as in...?
Renter: As in where the room is located.
Me: No? If I already lived where the room was located I wouldn't be trying to rent it, would I?
I seriously want to send a second email response saying, "I'm sorry, you don't meet the IQ qualifications for someone I want to lease from. I think I'll take my money elsewhere." Even if she was trying to weed out the people that claim to be from out of the country and need the room in three months but are willing to start paying now "As in where the room is located" is just an absolutely abysmal response. She could have said, "The city the room is in." or "The state the room is in." (although had she said that I would have responded with, "I don't know what state the room is in, that's why I want to come see it. How else will I know if it's worth the money you're asking?) Or, better yet, she could have asked where I was moving from. 

So things are starting to "come up Milhouse" as far as the life that I don't want to live is concerned.


The lease is up on the 15th of December. I'm hoping to be out on the first. I hate living alone so I was looking into renting a room, preferably one with little to no deposit since I still have to pay for 15 days of December I won't be here... Either way, I found three decent looking rooms on Craigslist and emailed the person advertising them asking if I could see them on one of my days off before Thanksgiving.

Then I got a call from my mother. My step-grandma lives about 30 minutes from my job in the opposite direction that I do  (I currently live 30 minutes from my job) and she owns a house and two apartments. One of them was recently vacated and she's willing to let me have it for the cost of utilities only. Also, she's moving to Reno and owns the property so if I don't take it will just sit there, empty and barren, devoid of life..  On the downside, it's in the country. On the upside, it's free. 


I have a friend, Elizabeth, who needs a place a stay and was asking about the two of us moving in together. She's cool as shit but recently quit her job. The apartment my step-grandma is giving up is two bedrooms. I don't mind paying utilities while she looks for a job. She wants to leave Houston and New Caney isn't in Houston... it's in the vast area considered part of Houston but it isn't Houston itself.  I'm hoping to go see it tomorrow.


Is it wrong that I'm honestly thinking about packing up my stuff in a way that it doesn't look packed then hiring some movers and moving all my things out on a day when Kenneth is at work? And just not mentioning it to him? Ever? I mean, it sounds cold but isn't there a lot to be said about making a clean break?


I got the time off from work so I can buy my ticket for France now. I also emailed Continental to see what would happen to my ticket if I enlist before I get a chance to use it. They haven't responded but I plan to call them Monday to ask.


I'm thinking about getting rid of all my clothes... again. Once every few years I become completely disgusted with my clothing and get rid of everything so I can try a new "style". I always stick to black, and my boots so it's black goth-like, but I like to vary things up a bit. I think, this time around, I'm going to go from punk-goth to sophisticated-goth? Goth grown up but still goth?  I don't know if it's possible but I'm going to give it a shot.


I'm being more aggressive with my diet now and making a huge attempt to hit the gym. I want to drop 1.5 dress sizes before I rebuy my clothing.

Blog Entry CommentsComments: 3 (Last: LittleOddMe · 11/20/11 5:03 AM)

I love sad songs. I'm that person. I load a bunch of sad songs to make my day better or to mellow out or just because I like them, I prefer minor chords to major, I prefer the slow, steady beat of depression to any other sound. The only time I listen to upbeat or fast paced music is when I'm working out and that's only because I need to keep my mind focused on putting on foot in front of the other and you don't have to think when you're listening to happy music.


When Kenneth and I first broke up I realized that a lot of my favorite songs about being unloved were inspired by people like me. The other day I realized just about every song I love is about me. I'm the girl that Shimon ran into right before he wrote Don't Walk Away or My World and the one Daughtry met before he wrote Used To.



Skip to 1:50 for the Sick Puppies song. It's just so much better live acoustic then in any other form.





I'm the girl that inspired your favorite sad song. The song you were listening to last week that made you wonder why the singer didn't just slit his wrist because that's the most depressing relationship song you've ever heard in your life? Inspired by someone like me. The song you listened to that made you vow, on all that is good, holy and sacred in the world, you would never ever be the absolute bitch that inspired an emotion that strong and that horrifically bad? Inspired by my personality or situation twin.


On the upside, Ani Difranco has this awesome song that was not inspired by me and reminds me of that one time I fell madly in love and the person didn't care. 



I play this song at least once a day because it reminds me of him. He had the most adorable beard; I spent entire days wishing I could be the person that has the right to reach out and stroke it...


My only question is, has karma for my negligent loving already hit or should I lock myself away in a forest tower in fear of being caught up in the bed I've made?


Blog Entry CommentsComments: 0
          Take this kiss upon the brow!
          And, in parting from you now,
          Thus much let me avow-
          You are not wrong, who deem
          That my days have been a dream;
          Yet if hope has flown away
          In a night, or in a day,
          In a vision, or in none,
          Is it therefore the less gone?
          All that we see or seem
          Is but a dream within a dream.

          I stand amid the roar
          Of a surf-tormented shore,
          And I hold within my hand
          Grains of the golden sand-
          How few! yet how they creep
          Through my fingers to the deep,
          While I weep- while I weep!
          O God! can I not grasp
          Them with a tighter clasp?
          O God! can I not save
          One from the pitiless wave?
          Is all that we see or seem
          But a dream within a dream?
-Edgar Allan Poe
Further proof that I'm not the only one who has wondered!
Blog Entry CommentsComments: 1 (Last: Lori · 11/17/11 8:59 AM)

I finally finished the dress! I finished a week late after putting in far more man hours than I thought I would.


The side binding being adhered. I actually did this horribly wrong and the inside of the dress looks terrible... but the outside is still rather adorable,



I wish I'd taken pictures while I was making the belt but a lot of the belt and hat were done while I was waiting for the tow truck.



Hat minus veil.



Finished Product. I didn't have time to connect the sleeves to each other. I literally worked on it up until my friend texted me and asked when we'd be leaving.




The side lacing that took me two hours and you can't even see,



It's two dresses! Two heavy dresses.

Photos (8)
Blog Entry CommentsComments: 4 (Last: LittleOddMe · 11/19/11 3:32 AM)
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