Some things I guess I need to remember

Here are a few tips that will help you to feel proud of you:

If self-doubt creeps in, recall your proudest moments

Have faith in yourself and trust your feelings

Use your intuition when your thoughts are scrambled

Use self awareness to identify your passions

Be persistent in your desire to improve your life

Ask questions of those who you trust and respect

Always make sure your attire represents the proudest version of you

Perhaps the last one, about attire, wasn't necessarily meant for someone like me (with dreadlocks and piercings and tattoos) - but I will choose to interpret it as making sure I feel good about the way I look, which I try to do anyway, generally. (As exhibited by my stress in choosing an outfit for last night - where everyone else seemed to be "dressed to unimpress", as someone else put it - very casual and non-typical of a PEX musical event.)

Especially since I feel like I have been falling down the rabbit hole of low self-esteem lately (dear god, help me) I need all the positive reinforcement I can muster.

No good.

Okay. I'm feeling extremely out of touch with everyone and everything, and it sucks. Maybe it's my fault, but what can I do? So sorry I couldn't party for the past month with everyone. I'm dealing with my own shit, serious shit, and maybe I haven't been the best friend/family member/acquaintance/partner/person. Right now I'm ready to get back into the groove, back into the things that make me happy, because I need it really bad right now. If you don't have time for me, then you can go screw yourself.

This blog has most certainly been more whiny, bitchy and depressing as of late. Well, that's life. Enjoy.

A letter to the collective unconscious

Dear Universe,

Things haven't been so smooth, lately. I know life throws a few curve balls once in awhile, to keep us on our toes - I know I was overdue. It had been years since my last desperate tragedy, and here I am thinking I'm an adult cause I'm all married and ... oh right, everything else is exactly the same except that one little indication that I'm no longer an irresponsible kid, nevermind. I still have no money, I still have only an undergraduate degree (in art, for fucks sake) and no kids of my own to take care of, thank GOD.

So, is this your way of reminding me that I still need to grow up? Turn 28, realize I work at a coffee shop (again) and I have no money to do anything fun (and can still barely pay my bills - my fault, I know, for quitting my desk job where I made tons of money and was miserable.) So you coordinate both my and my husbands cars kicking the bucket at the same time, to remind me I need to do more with my life? Is that it?

(...DOESN'T ANYONE WANT TO BUY A FUCKING PAINTING?)

(Oh right, you do, but you can't afford to spend that much on ART. Plane tickets, clothing, the newest iPhone, 1/4 of your monthly rent, your electricity bill, a weekend at a festival...)

On top of that, I feel so out of the loop with most of my friends that I'm reminded of high school social drama - that same feeling that rises up in your throat, where you fear that you're actually not worth two shits and no one cares if you're hanging out with them or not, you may as well not even exist - and it all seems to stem down to not having enough money or time. How do the rest of you people do it? Aren't you hurting, suffering just like us? Or do you have it all figured out...

Universe, I'm trying - I'm trying as hard as I can. Please help me out a bit, now, take the reins,
show me the way. I'll learn, I'll do better next time, I'll survive it and be stronger and better and faster than I was the day before. Otherwise, if that's how it's gonna be - no wonder we seek to lose ourselves in the mundane and the temporary. There's too much out there, it's too monotonous, it's too heavy.

My lids grow heavy, Universe, and I have much to do. I'm working on things, trying to, to better my creative endeavors. At the end of the day, I'll never stop doing that, it's the least I owe myself. Do what you love.

First poem I've written in 10 years.

Drowning my sorrows in a glass.
This too, shall surely pass.
Though I cannot see
days past this night
I pray that soon
I'll find the light.

Seems I've made my bed in the field I've lain
Let the flowers put me to sleep again
Distant memories, days
back when I was strong
And many years
I proved them wrong

What I seem, I'm not, truth is I am weak
I've succumbed to flaws I dare not speak
My shame burns scarlet, red and hot
My eyes clear bright, blue with tiny black dots
Somehow, I swear, I'll make it past
Please don't judge me, this time's the last.

Bummer Summer

I'm sorry about the whining, in advance. This is the secret blog - this is the place where I can write whatever the fuck I want, and if you read it and don't like it... well... don't read it.

I have always, unfortunately, found myself more or less at the mercy of my emotions. I am the first one to agree that this is a quality somewhat common in most "modern" women and because of this, it may not seem special enough to be considered a serious problem. My husband, however, would probably argue otherwise. Each woman is always the only one, the craziest one, and no one is ever like us. Except that this isn't just my problem, this is an issue that plenty of my friends in relationships seem to echo. It's just how things are, sometimes - women are, by nature, way more emotional than men and sometimes, it is a difficult thing to control.

This week I have gone through many emotions, though none really as intense and heart wrenching as they have the potential to be or have been in the past. I have felt melancholy... a little lonely... pissed off, angry, then depressed, melancholy and lonely again. And there was certainly some "happy" in there, too, but this isn't a blog post about "happy", now is it.

I'm pissy for the second weekend in a row that the majority of my friends are out of town at festival-in-July number three. And last weekend was my birthday. Three people came out to the bar and had drinks with me. I was invited to go to Camp Bisco and perform last weekend, but since I wasn't getting paid and it would have required both Alex and I to take off more days from both our jobs since PEX fest, I had to decline. Everyone else still went. Feels like high school or something, some lame kind of left out loser bullshit, but whatever. I feel like the only dirt poor one who literally can't afford not to work. I already took off Fourth of July weekend for PEX fest earlier this month, and having just started a new job there was no way I could swing it and make it work. Just. Too. Poor.

So it's 1 am on a Friday night and I'm sitting at home. The most exciting thing I did today was go to the grocery store with my honey. I've been listening to music and researching burlesque videos to get ideas. I perform next weekend (get paid, how about that?) in Baltimore for a friends event at the infamous Club Orpheus, which I used to go to while I lived there to get my goth on.

So, I know it's not totally hopeless. I get to be the star for a night, all by myself, in a city I don't live in anymore. I'm relaxed at least, sitting here at home, enjoying some tunes, being inspired by fabulous West Coast burlesque performers, like Inga Ingenue. (I freaking love her, I decided tonight. She is amazing.) Some of the nicer of my currently out-of-town friends are hosting a BBQ this week to celebrate my birthday (and someone elses, also lost in the mix) - so that makes me feel a little less neglected.

And yes, I do feel neglected, in general. I feel like I even tried kinda hard to hang out with some folks tonight to no avail. I tried to get people in town to come to the bar on my birthday, and that kind of failed, too, but it's passed and whatever - life goes on. At least I have cookies.