look.

chaotic bliss.

2011-10-11T16:43:00.000-07:00

Here are some examples for one of my logo and t-shirt design projects. The client wanted an urban appeal with a hip hop vibe, so I went with a chaotic yet controlled feel. This is just a screen shot of two ideas for business cards and a typographic-inspired t-shirt design at the top left (click to enlarge). Courier is one of the few standard fonts with a fixed width, and I am a big fan regardless, so it seemed a charming fit for my idea. Enjoy!

note to self:

2011-08-08T16:36:00.001-07:00

sometimes i have to be reminded that i have one of these so i can non-verbally get out whatever is in my head. i've been thinking, and as much as i want to get out of the restaurant business and pursue a design career, i feel as if it's almost an abusive relationship. business hasn't been great so the money's barely decent, but i seem to find excuses for not leaving. number one is the fact that i have nothing lined up, also i love the people i work with, have insurance through there, and i know once fall hits i'll be making $300 a night (umm, bomb?!).

but i don't want to be a cocktailer when i'm 30- note to self: just move in with mom and dad if that's the case, you can't sink much lower- i want to have the fulfillment of accomplishment, and soon. i've taken a recent interest in marketing, and i think that i'd be pretty darn good and it too. either that or business management. communicating a message with efficiency and success. i feel that at this point i'd actually enjoy going back to school, although unless my grampa wants to fork over another $120,000 for me alone to go back to school, i don't see that happening. a lot of people accomplish positions like those without that specific major though, so i'm optimistic.

lately at work i've been sporting quite the shitty attitude. why? because not only am i frustrated that my educated self is still cocktailing, but things are run in any way besides efficiently, and overall it's losing me money. i like being "in the know" and although i know i am in no position to be privy to such knowledge, i can't understand the logic behind decisions i feel are ridiculously stupid without an explanation. i ask "why" quite a bit. after talking it through with my mangers, i received a tiny bit of information/affirmation, and feel worlds better. that's all i needed.

so my dilemma is this: in order to go on in my quest for more than the restaurant industry, do i settle for a low-end design job and consider it entry-level? or do i see if i can do a more acceptable design job where i can participate in marketing ploys and hang out at the good ol' 3D for another year possibly? i don't want another serving job, although i might need to get one if money doesn't pick up soon. i am passionate about cocktails themselves. tommy is the biggest booze geek i know and it's interesting going to different places together and trying new cocktails and spirits neither of us have heard of. it's awesome actually, and while i am in the industry, i intend on being the best.

i want a car. i want to be able to drive down to portland, see whit, spend time with my family more, even go and visit my sisters or friends for the afternoon across town without having to take 36 buses. cool place just opened up in bellevue? not going to go because of that reason. sad. i guess it all comes down to what is going on in my life right now that i can think of that makes me happy. tommy's great- although sometimes it's hard to see through our differences and remember that we have a complete blast together, natalie has become one of my best friends and has been a constant, joe and i have become closer especially since i moved up to the hill, i LOVE living on the hill, and while my house is constantly messy, that just means that we had friends over. so yea, i guess when you think about it life- even for the moment- isn't that bad. the rest will all fall into place. again, it's just frustrating because i'm just not "in the know" quite yet.

i guess you could call this untitled.

2011-07-29T06:17:00.000-07:00

i am not really sure what i think, which is rather strange for me. it isn't that i think for the most part that i have everything together, however it may just be that i'm not used to having my judgment clouded. that seems to be my predicament overall throughout the past 7 days. it's all too easy to assume that you have control of any certain situation- until you consider the second party (damn that second party and their opinions and whatnot...)

i mean, since when did they have feelings that are all of a sudden relevant via Bon Iver? it sin't that i necessarily feel blindsided, but that's where my logic is concluding where my current state of emotion and logic are dueling at one another. i will not doubt that i have made decisions that have gone against my better judgment due to my empathetic personality, as well as will, to make people better- but i refuse to blame it on some sort of want "to fix people." i mean sure, i find a great joy in being a very influential figure in any single person's progress or epiphany that leads them toward personal success or growth, but that i feel is because i have this sick expectation for someone to play that role if they happen to see those "symptoms" in myself. if i am acting like a dick, asshole, insecure-driven obsessor, i would want someone to care enough to verbally slap me in the face (or would i?) and let me know what is going on beyond my blinded, and therefore illogical, pursuit. going back to the "or would i?", i have graciously accepted that i am very much so a stubborn person who may or may not be obsessed in being 100% logical to the extreme of being so over-analytical that she can't analyze feelings as well.

i have been blessed with the oh-so-beneficial gift of seeing both sides, and cursed with almost having predetermined logically which side i have taken due to previous and/or current relevant situations (i feel like i'm writing a psych book right now btw, that's how over-analytical i am) that may pertain to the outcome of the situation at hand. i often fail to remember that situations are, well, situational, and can vary in both the journey as well as the outcome.

maybe this is all concluding that if i merely step back and look at the situation as if it were someone who was coming to me with their own situation, in addition to myself knowing the third party being dealt with/analyzed (my unofficial psych"o" terminology), i'd go as far to say that i might understand certain reactions to different situations and consider them as they pertain to me. all in all, i'm a smart girl. i just need to realize that sometimes, emotions can determine a logical solution without necessarily overriding logic itself.

man i'm scary sometimes.

visiting hours are never over.

2011-02-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

after a rather intense 24 hours, i have revisited myself. i am someone who is pretty low-maintenance, for the most part a "yes girl", and (not to pat my own back) rather selfless. i try my best to anticipate the needs of the people around me without expectation of reciprocity, yet i find myself disappointed when there isn't. maybe it was how i was raised- consideration of other people was prime- or perhaps i am constantly contradicting myself on this issue.

i enjoy being one of the guys, i really do. i'd almost say that i thrive on that feeling. i hate bitchy girls (though it's been rumored that i can be quite the bitch, so i guess i hate high maintenance girls). you know the type: needy, demanding, obsessed with themselves, talk in abnormal pitches (a little stereotypical, i know, just roll with it. i'm a bitch remember?), etc. i can't deny that i don't have needs by any means. i guess my versions of these high maintenance qualities are just a little muted, sans the weird pitched-voice. i have needs, expect the respect that i deserve and if i don't get it, demand it. i also am definitely not lacking in confidence and would love a friend or significant other with the same mindsets that i have.

i feel like i revisit myself on a semi-regular basis- this is just the first time i've been able to write about it in a while. perhaps it's a strategic way to publish self-affirmation? not sure. i bought canvas and a charcoal sketchbook today to cater to my self-induced free time as i shall sit in my storage space which i pay rent for each month despite the fact that it doesn't come close to resembling "home", and i feel i have potential to be inspired due to my experience in the past 24 hours of revisiting. perhaps i'll go abstract.

the new typographer.

2010-07-26T17:53:00.000-07:00

i have decided that i want to pursue a career in typographic design. yes, i want to do graphics and all that good stuff, but i want my emphasis to be in typography. i want to be a complete font nerd (moreso than i currently am). i want to create my own fonts, i'm assembling even more ideas for decorating my room, which i posted to my design blog a few minutes ago. it's going to be tedious but such delightful work i am so excited. i'm to design a font which screams ME. it's going to be sarcastic, a control-freak, and pretty gangster.

i finally have 2 days off in a row now, aka a set schedule, so i can get things like decorating and designing accomplished. i have no problem getting hyped about this stuff, it's getting motivated enough to do it that i'm promising myself i'm going to do. here comes a lot of research, staring at my computer screen, and obsessing over line weights and curvatures.

i'm stoked.

a little home decor.

2010-07-26T06:13:00.000-07:00

ok, so i am halfway moved into my new place and i have decided to decorate using a very minimalist, linear theme with paint, lines and artwork that i am going to do myself. knowing me, all of the art going directly on the wall will be typographic- meaning that i need to figure out what text i'm going to use. inspirational? sarcastic? hopefully both. i want my space to be 100% ME. here are some themes i'm thinking of:

thoughts? either way i'm going to do it so i guess it doesn't really matter what anyone thinks or says. i want to try a more illustrative approach as well, maybe incorporating a little pointalism into my type. i bought several pieces of canvas as well to get started on the wall pieces, which are going to be more organic as opposed to the rigid and linear art being painted directly on my wall. hopefully joe will help me, seeing as he has an eye as well for this kind of interior design. i'm going to try and be done with everything by mid august, seeing as i'm still in the process of moving in! pictures posted as soon as they're available. :)

organizational woes.

2010-06-21T13:30:00.000-07:00

yesterday and today were days of organizing my life. figuring out what i'm doing right and what i'm doing wrong, looking at what i need to change to make it right.

things i am doing wrong:

-spending more than double my rent's worth of money per week.. on nothing long-term.

-not actively looking (hard enough) for a design job

-drinking too much

there are more but nothing i'm going to delve into at this point. the money issue is the biggest one for me, although that's directly related to the amount of alcohol i choose to consume. seriously though, i started keeping track of my tips and everything, and i made over $650 in 4 shifts in tips alone. how much cash do i have on my person? like $150. ridiculous. i should be a millionaire by now if i had been even slightly NOT retarded... fired amy, fired.

in other news, i applied for a credit card yesterday (mildly ironic seeing how i have money issues), but i need to build my credit, and i get 30,000 miles through united airlines with the first $250 i spend! i've had a credit card before and never had issues with debt or anything. i guess that's how i end up justifying the amount i have been spending.. i'm still, by far, completely debt-free. i mean i haven't used my debit card in almost 3 weeks except to pay my phone bill. i just want to kick myself for not saving all the money i just wasted getting wasted. i just signed up with mint, which is basically a free financial advisor that helps you budget and monitor your spending. umm, yes please? commence save mode now. check it out. ok, enough about money. promise.

i saw an ad on craigslist for a design position at a place called fine art digital printing. PRINTING! that is definitely my medium of choice, as opposed to web. i'd love to get more experience with video though. i need to update my web portfolio and write a cover letter, but i meet all the requirements they listed, so that could be really exciting if things start to work out for me.

i need to buy a new camera. i'm currently sitting in muse, a coffee shop a couple blocks away from my house, and they have photography all over the shop. plus with photoshop and everything, how cool would it be to go on walks and just take pictures? or of friends? i'm talking artistic pictures, not facebook ones.. i know, look who's talking. i just want to get "back in the game" and not stay sucked into the service industry black hole, as fun as it can be.

ok, good pep talk. time to re up.

happenings.

2010-05-21T09:21:00.001-07:00

yet another large gap between writing. oh well. i guess you could say a lot has happened in that gap.. i had a boyfriend for a hot minute, decided that was a terrible idea so i ended it. it's kind of funny how slapping a title on something that was totally fine to begin with will fuck things up. i told myself from the very beginning to not raise my expectations just because he's now my "boyfriend", to keep things exactly the same as they were before, aka casual. maybe i just needed the title to secure exclusivity? who knows, i can't say i didn't know from the very beginning it wouldn't be a really long-term thing, but was just the natural progression of how things were between us it seemed.

luckily things between us are totally fine now, nice and back to normal. he turns 25 on sunday, which would be cool if it wasn't the day after the 2 year anniversary of his dad's funeral. i can't imagine losing a parent, how absolutely heart-wrenching and awful it would feel. it's hard enough watching someone else suffer from it 2 years later. all i can do is be there, like i always [sometimes very frustratedly] have been.

bonnie, my dog of almost 16 years is fading fast... my mom just wrote a blog about it with pictures of her and everything. she has dementia and is losing muscle control. poor girl can barely eat, although the vet says she's not in pain. i NEED need to get home soon to spend some time with her and my parents. i miss non-work friends too. whitney, sarah, kate, michaela, chadly... it's those people who keep you sane sometimes when you spend your time with people you work with and talk primarily of work.

the apartment search continues, although i'm pretty sure i'm going to move into jay's building on denny and dexter. hardwood floors, practically downtown, next to a gas station, liquor store, 24-hr subway, whole foods, the market? golden. and i'm living ALONE :) the only person i'd live with is whitney. period. that was flawless, although i think it's important to experience living on your own, see what kind of a roommate and how responsible you really are. i already know i'm not the easiest person to live with so i can cross that off right now.

scratch the big screen tv. i am debating whether or not i even want cable. i'd rather get a massive monitor :) ok enough about my apartment dreams, i'm going to a coffee shop because for some reason i have been awake since 6:30am and it's 9:43 now. disgusting. since when are sunrises something you wake up to as opposed to taking a hint that it's time to go to bed?

welcome home.

2010-03-19T02:36:00.001-07:00

i need to make the trek to u village pretty soon and pick up art supplies at the bookstore, i.e. a few canvases and paint. all i can think about these days is moving into my own place. i'm nowhere near my financial goal at this point but that was over by about 4 or 5 grand, so i still have enough to get by. i'm .5 seconds away from buying a 50" plasma screen tv.. totally unnecessary, but i've never been extravagant so i'm deeming it as ok.

i'm really going to use a lot of discretion in choosing my next apartment.. i want hardwood floors, a cool view- preferably of the water, which i miss like crazy- somewhere where i can walk to work and to friends' houses, modern yet very comfortable, all appliances working as opposed to my apartment right now where our dryer hasn't had a heating coil for about 3 or 4 weeks [grrr], and most of all just to have alone time. i NEVER get alone time unless i close the bar and no one's awake anymore. i guess i don't understand how at least one of us is home all the time..

i need to start walking to work like joe. get away from even the people watching activities on the bus. i can actually have secrets that other people don't observe because they live with me, where they don't hear any news in my life at the same time i do. moral of the story, i want privacy when i need it- and i am NOT a very private person. if i want to run around naked, i will be able to come mid-july or august.

i'm not sure where exactly i want to live: capital hill, eastlake, south lake union, waterfront... but those 4 areas are sounding the most appealing as of this point. close to downtown yet removed enough for me. the water aspect of it all is becoming more and more of a priority the more i think about it. i can just imagine sitting on my balcony or standing and just staring at the water with a cup of coffee.

i'm a huge list person, so i'm making a wish list of things i would ideally, although expensively, have for my new apartment:

+ that 50" plasma screen

+ king sized bed so my feet won't hang off once in my life

+ new bedding

+ sectional couch

+ a plant :)

i'm assuming when i acquire the bed, if at all, will be later on but a girl can dream, can she not?

i always have a mixed reaction when people encourage me to not focus too closely on money. part of me is like well yeah, obviously don't let it consume you, blah blah blah, but the other half says why not? i'm the type of person who enjoys spoiling friends, being in a position where i'm able to help if needed, and just feeling secure in the fact that i earned for myself financial security as a result of a series of good decisions. but enough of further proving that i am a walking contradiction.

give me a break.

2010-02-09T14:10:00.000-08:00

i am being resented for being good with my money.

i just think you think you're better than everyone.

what? you really feel like that?

when it comes to money, yeah, i do.

sounds tame and harmless enough, but at the time it was probably the most hurtful thing that could have been said considering the circumstances and all the shit that has gone down. a

for the first 2 months of our lease, 2 out of 4 of us were getting payday loans every paycheck. i was in a position where i was able to help out, so i begged them to borrow money from me so they would have a chance to catch up without being charged up the ass with interest rates and whatnot. i have paid all 3 of their rent portions, 1 on more than one occasion, only asking to be paid back when they could. i purchase the majority of the groceries, so the other day i suggested that someone else could buy them this time and i'd be totally fine with it..

que resentment.

i come home the other night to find one of them drunk, and the other 2 busy playing wii. i come to find later that they had just had a heated discussion about what a money-hungry bitch i was, and some fairly shitty things were said. and then as soon as the light bill is brought up, which is outrageous, i'm told that it has not been paid because i have not written a check. because I have not written a check, really?

everyone i talk to tells me to break my lease and move out. everyone. it's so tempting but i wouldn't screw them over like that. i am never home on purpose because i hate being there. i guess i'll keep the cheap rent and just never be there... you can bet your ass though that i'm done buying groceries.

the hair of the dog.

2010-01-16T00:34:00.000-08:00

thinking about what might have been lost, i choose to lose it. you simply cannot create something that does not exist. i continue stand correct thus far on the issue of the severity of putting logic before emotion, as a typical aquarius does. emotions, i have come to find, are an equivalent to alcohol. all logic goes out the window because you are now being led by a substance that should not, despite various cliche sayings such as "follow your heart", be making your decisions for you.

no.

alcohol knows no logic. your heart knows no logic. trust me. my employee appreciation party was this past wednesday, before which i downed a half of a fifth of jameson from the bottle via a straw. when one of my bartenders arrived at the party, i was apparently humping a speaker. tell me the idiot that says one can be logical under the complete influence of alcohol, and let them try and drink me under the table. we'll talk after the 2-day hangover and re-assess.

back to my point: i guess i'm just realizing more and more that there is less and less of a reason for me not to be guarded. i would love to be able to take people for their word and assume the appropriate actions would follow, but i cannot. i don't want to think of how many times i have been guilty of the same, but i see so many people around me succeed at this whole game of falling in love and i, for the life of me, cannot walk myself logically through those steps to be able to justify it.

besides my relentless brain working overtime, i've been helplessly in overtime for the past month straight at work. i just got a promotion [yay] and now have over 10 positions to clock in under. my manager just laughs at me. he grills the shit out of me, but we're cool. i can't wait until i never have to work at a restaurant again. i want to write, i want to design, to draw, and take pictures and work with developers while pouring all of my time into this screen.

moral of the story, i am in desperate need of social interaction outside of work, and therefore less time to analyze.

karma.

2009-12-27T19:13:00.000-08:00

i'm back in seattle after being in portland for a few days for christmas. my living room smells of mildew instead of baked goods like the home i just left does, dishes are scattered about the entire house after sitting there for who knows how long, and the groceries that i bought are now gone. i'm just so ready to move out and get my own place. it's funny, we all knew before we moved in that we didn't exactly keep a "tidy" house before. i'm not sure how it came to the point where we all completely let it go- not just the house, but almost a complete disrespect for the fact that each one of us lives 3 other people. everyone deals with things in their own way. shannon cleans every once and a while but lets everyone know that he's not happy about it, harrison does it most often out of either boredom or housewife instinct, joe may or may not clean when asked and other wise not at all as to not appease the rest of our passive aggressive suggestions that he should do it sometime before the lease ends, and i am either the one to clean up after when we have groups of people or after myself. any way you look at it, it doesn't leave anyone necessarily happy about the situation.

i'm just tired i guess. i'm a pretty easy-going person to live with i feel. sure i might not enjoy cooking or cleaning [at all] but i like to think i make up for it with my presence alone. kidding.

i like to spoil my friends, make sure thy have the time of their lives and laugh their asses off in the process. if someone needs something, i like them to know i can either be there or get it for them. call it 'needing to be needed' or whatever you want, but it just makes me happy doing it. would i appreciate someone reciprocating the favor? absolutely, but i don't expect it. i try to not expect anything lest i not be disappointed. however, i've decided i need to be [i would say a little, but i need to start with being so initially...] selfish.

for example, i want an apartment with hardwood floors, pretty appliances and matching dishes, a couple massive pieces of art to provide the majority or color, a sectional couch, a 47" flat screen tv, and ceiling-to-floor windows with curtains. and i want it all for myself. if i leave the lights on when i leave for the weekend, it's my fault that the electricity bill is higher than it should be. plain and simple. i'm not particularly keen on sharing responsibility with 3 other people. bills don't get paid on time because no one can manage their money unless the fairy godmother steps in and pays someone's share with no inclination of when/if she'll be paid back. i love them, like, LOVE them. i just need to live with someone on the same page as i am, aka myself.

it will be good for me, a true test of responsibility and work ethic. i'll be forced to live according to what i can and cannot afford for the very reason that i don't have anyone to split anything with. i crave the challenge. my goal is to have at least $5,000 saved up by the end of my lease. even that i hope to exceed. $10,000 would be ideal, and i know i can do it if i truly set my mind to it. no more tipping my bartenders 150% just because "i love them" and hope to someday have karma come back and help me in that arena. it never does. no more offering to treat friends to endless drinks just because i want them to be involved in the fun. it's time to be selfish and fend for myself, because i have yet to meet someone to return the favor. i will continue to give and give and give, and be there and be there and be there, but if what goes around truly comes around, i'll pace myself for the next lap.

2009-12-08T19:57:00.000-08:00

the trees are finally naked, lining the icy streets as mere skeletons, providing an invisible shelter from the frigid seattle air. the rays of sunlight hit the pavement at 5 or so in an orange fury, anxious to sink beneath the surface of the sound. who knows if there's telling when we'll meet again. my skin longs for natural warmth the sun just cannot give me.

winter has brought her usual antics, imposing a sense of white noise i can't block out. it's time for movement despite the inclination to hibernate.

woods.

2009-11-21T10:32:00.000-08:00

i love waking up to coffee. i just bought a coffee maker and seeing as i've been awake since 8:30, it's necessary. [i go to bed after 4am on a daily basis].

i've been in a funk lately, that i haven't been able to shake. for me, that is rare. i can't remember a time i felt depressed or something and someone wasn't able to make me laugh and therefore forget what was going on. this was just an intense fog that i wasn't even aware of for the most part, if it hadn't been for people asking me what was wrong with me or why i was in such a bad mood then i would have just thought of it as "meh, whatevs i'm fine."

if you haven't before, listen to bon iver. i was laying in bed, refusing to move and i had my headphones in. lil wayne wasn't really overwhelming me with the relaxing feeling i was going for, so i put on "woods" and just laid there, completely still. it's one of the most peaceful, soothing songs ever. there are only 2 lines to the whole song.

i'm up in the woods, i'm down on my mind.

i'm building a still, to slow down the time.

i'm excited to go home for thanksgiving. time will slow down considerably, i'll get to spend time with the fam and i can truly relax. i don't really have any friends in portland so i won't get cabin fever like i normally do. my desktop is currently a sepia photograph of the main drag in palm springs. sigh, nostalgic. i can't wait until i can save up enough to go on a vacation! palm springs probably wouldn't be my first choice, but i miss the sun and just the familiarity of being able to go somewhere when i need to get away.

oh, being able to escape. i can't wait.

glass mask.

2009-10-05T18:59:00.001-07:00

have i ever told you i feel sorry for you?

you talk constantly of killing yourself and loving anyone who will have you more than the person you actually say 'i love you' to. i wish i knew why you were hurting enough to sacrifice your dignity. i really do. being depressed is one thing, but to combine that with such arrogance and this self-professed title of 'the shit', you might as well be hiding behind a glass door. and this glass door- is open.

aren't you exhausted from putting up this facade nonstop? you now hate yourself beyond your ability to bear it, yet you remain too proud to change anything whatsoever in your life. congratulations, you have made everyone in your life expendable sans the people who benefit your life. and more congratulations to you, this time for acknowledging that you failed.

i'm sorry, i really am. it just would have been nice if i hadn't been one of those people you deemed less than the people causing you to hate yourself. so thanks.

please flail your arms and legs outside the vehicle at all times.

2009-09-23T18:46:00.000-07:00

life's funny, how it throws different opportunities your way at just the right moment and you still have no idea how to accept them. in the past week i've gotten 2 different design offers: one through a friend and the other via my resume getting passed around and landing in the right hands. it's hard to imagine living anywhere else when i'm financially secure here in seattle. all i hear about is how terrible the economy is everywhere and yet i feel so blessed to be "okay" in my situation here. i have something to get me by before i get my big girl job, while in the meantime i am given the opportinuties to pursue what it is i actually want to do for the rest of my life.

the rest of my life.

such a seeminly terrifying concept and yet i am perfectly content at the thought of committing to just that. sure i'll end up having to get glasses as a result of staring at a screen all day every day, but thinking about what i'll be staring at- my designs, my creations, my ideas, makes it worth it. knowing that i can create movement from seemingly flat images or shapes and make something so dynamic? priceless. the idea alone is just exciting to me.

i'm starting to rekindle that belief i had in myself earlier in the year, around the winter/spring of my senior year. i was so confident in myself as far as my career went. for a while i lost that sense of hope, but i'm starting to regain it, and quickly. ;D

sidenote: i really hope that my career involves alot of travelling. my dream has always been to go on business trips to awesome places where i can experience different cultures and get paid to do so. i can see what graphic design is like in italy, spain, australia, central america, greece, etc. almost makes up for losing the ability to see it with 20/20 vision. [cue glasses!] it seems almost like a genre in itself to do american graphic design. you look around you and see capitalism, structure, architecturally influenced shapes and figures juxtaposed with fluid lines reflecting the current trend that is urban outfitters. i can't even imagine designing for a small business in the mediterrainean, taking into consideration their pace of life, their involvement with the hustle and bustle of the business life, and how much they care about being corporate. see to me, that's just fascinating. maybe i can morph my focus into "international design marketing strategies" and be the art director of it all!!! umm, dream come true-- tied with nike, of course.

i'll let you know when i buy my first plane ticket and where the destination is.

gia.

2009-09-13T06:58:00.000-07:00

i never considered myself to be the type to need alone time. ever. tonight at work i, for some reason got extremely emotional all at one time. and it was over the stupidest shit too. i was annoyed with someone and by venting it just escalated into almost bringing me to tears. my second housewarming party is currently going on, and i have absolutely no desire to partake in any of the activities. drinking, socializing, anything. i want to go to a coffee shop and stare at this screen for hours, doing design and delving into the unknown so i can somehow know it. i want to watch hours of tutorials and teach myself, little by little, the complete ins and outs of design and all of the programs that can be used to do it. it’s almost like i want to be an intern for the rest of my life. i am a firm believer in the fact that i will be a student for the rest of my life regardless of whether or not i‘m in school or not. i am constantly wanting to know more.

i feel like my life is going nowhere. i know that this is the transitional period that almost every grad experiences after they seemingly lose all structure that school tends to offer with a set schedule of classes, homework, etc. i always told myself that i would be able to better manage my time with design once i actually went to work to do it. i still have yet to do that, so i guess until that happens this is how i’ll feel. whitney says to live my life while i’m still young, because it’s rapidly coming to an end. i can’t wait to grow older, in some strange fucked up way. not in an age sense, but rather schedule-wise. no longer worrying about my peers wanting only to party. i am out of school, therefore to me, the party season is over. let’s get responsible people, why do people avoid it for so long? maybe because they’ll have to deal with it for the rest of your life, but to me, why prolong the inevitable? you’re going to have to deal with it sooner or later, so the question is: do you want to be 30 and just learning how to grow up, or deal with it in your early 20’s and bypass the embarrassment of coming into your own a decade after everyone else did. this issue has haunted me for the past 2 years, waiting for myself to step up and take my own challenge. obviously not everyone is going to make the same decisions as i will, but it’s my fault for not doing them because they won’t. my finger just want to FLY across this keyboard, spewing out every thought that comes to mind. i can’t slow them down enough to differentiate whether or not they are self-deprecating or constructive criticism. i can’t differentiate between the two anymore, i’ve noticed. i do need girl time, as well as my alone time. my dream has come true: i live with gay boys and love each one of them more than i can ever express. i just need someone to listen to me rant and talk out my issues if i need them. that is my only complaint. i’d rather spend time with them than alone, and should i get the house to myself before our lease is up and we decide to go separate ways, fine. it makes no difference to me. i’ll be the same either way, and that’s a completely honest statement.

i feel like gia- in the metaphorical sense, of course, and minus the drugs. someone put on such a pedestal, under such pressure to perform and to succeed that i’m destined to crack. only in my case it’s purely self-inflicted.

**sidenote: anyone that reads my this blog on a regular basis, you must think i am a seriously depressed and fucked up individual. i am not, i just use this as an outlet to word vomit what i can’t verbally over-analyze to another depressed and also fucked up individual. ;D i kid, i kid.

moral of the story, i just need to get the ball rolling. i need to break the trend of not being able to say no to social situations because it will eventually get me in trouble.. again. soon i’ll be sane enough to be obsessed with life, rather than just to enjoy it, you know?

i got sunshine.

2009-09-13T06:57:00.000-07:00

we drive. my feet on the dash with an arm out the window. the music drives the car down who knows what road, ‘cause our hair is in our eyes. without our vision, we are indeed the passengers. you ask me to tell you when we get there, although where, i’m not sure. but hey, we’re driving, so it has to be somewhere. it has to be somewhere.

please don’t let me look, and spoil the surprise. just let me feel movement without moving, let me anticipate what can’t be anticipated, and please, let me love what i know can’t love me back. although what, i’m not sure. but hey, we’re driving, so it has to be something. it has to be something.

and just because the wind is blowing, we cannot find air to breathe, for the laughter won’t come to and end. the sun floods our lungs and somehow that’s enough. with bare golden skin sprawled out each window, the music still drives us along. although how, i’m not sure. but hey, we’re driving, so it has to be somehow. it has to be somehow.

we are passengers, unaware of impact until we wake up, far away from the road. our bare skin covered in white plaster, the sunlight replaced with florescent white. i lay next to you, the music still playing faintly. although whose, i was not sure- at first. but hey. even now, we’re still driving, so it has to be someone’s. it has to be for someone’s.

what's my age again?

2009-08-20T13:53:00.000-07:00

i love my job. i really do. i love being pulled in every different direction and actually being good at it. i love the stress and chaos of it all, it's an adrenaline rush to me. people have been talking about making me a server [i work at the triple door]. finally, some affirmation. don't get me wrong, i have no intentions of being a "lifer" in the restaurant biz, but to see how much money people make here, walking with hundreds and hundreds of dollars in a night just for interacting with people, giving them some buddha rolls and chicken pad thai and a martini while they watch a show.... i just thought of how i could have made this whole blog into some huge metaphorical blurb, personifying the lights and everything. obviously i decided against it. creative writing is fun, but i'm in the mood to be blunt.

i want to make a 5 year plan. i want to be a 22 year old with the maturity level and responsibility of someone who's 30. i've been told i seem more matura than someone who's 22. don't get me wrong, just because of my last blog about not focusing purely on making money and being successful doesn't mean i don't want to work for it. obviously i need some kind of cushion if i plan on doing anything remotely pro bono. ultimately it's an issue of a lack of faith for me. i am a control freak. there, i admit it. never have i put my trust entirely in God. now my parents, on the other hand, moved up from palm springs to portland without a job or having our house sold. i would have never in a million years been so bold. it terrifies me. whitney was trying to convince me to move to portland at i wouldn't because i didn't have anything lined up job-wise for when i moved. granted, my rent is way cheap up here, i know seattle and whatnot, but that's besides the point.

speaking of besides the point, back to my 5 year plan. let's just do this on the fly right now. i'll go by "rent" years, so from august to august. i'll even break it down to seasons. by winter i want to definitely have my laptop, if not by fall. by spring i'll have the adobe creative suites [and be 20 lbs lighter. jk], as well as $1000 saved up in a trust fund to just sit there, untouched and gain interest for when i'm old and fat and want to move to the editerranean. i'll add periodically so i can have cocktails when i lay my 60-year old ass out in a g-string. just kidding.

next summer i'll be deciding where to move. maybe africa, south america, australia? as nice as living alone would be, there's nothing like coming home to someone being there, or knowing that someone's coming home to talk to. i'm not a huge fan of being alone. minor setback i guess, but then you could always have people over? nah it's just be cheaper to split the rent and have a roommate. ok enough monologue. focus amy, focus. regardless of where i choose to move, i will be designing. no restaurant job- at least as a primary source of income. who couldn't use more money for that trust fund? i will definitely be moving out of seattle, i decided. i want to live internationally, so i will do it. get a work visa, eventually dual citizenship and gain some cultural experience, learn a language- preferably italian or spanish.

year 3. i want to start a campaign or organization, whether it's the "outside the lines" idea or not. i want something to be my name attached to it, my baby. in the words of three6mafia: "no i can't live my life, working those 9 to 5's, no matter what they say, i'm doin' it my own way. cause time ain't on my side, they don't understand, forget what people say, i'm doin' it my own way." how non-conformist, three6. i want to be living in one of 2 extreme living conditions: the downtown area of a big city in a stainless steel/white apartment, or in the middle of some secluded foreign country living the same way as the people i'm interacting with. i do want to do the second at one point in my life, the length of time has not yet been determined. i'll keep you posted though.

year 4... and 5. not really too sure about that one. maybe mine is just a 3 year plan? years 4 and 5 can just be continued off of those first 3 and further evaluations and goal assessments to be based off of those experiences. i really am a very goal-oriented person. it's good to break it down to seasons though for me because that's a lot more tangible benefits-wise than on a yearly basis. fall is just around the corner. a laptop should be no problem, especially since i will be picking up a few odd jobs here and there, and with my tip checks SIGNIFICANTLY larger now that i'm down in the theatre as opposed to hosting. i can make it happen if i don't get sidetracked or screwed over.. again.

something about growing up is exciting to me. people say that 20's is the prime. i don't even feel like i look like an adult, dude. i wonder how long it takes to transition from college student to young professional looks-wise? i'm retarded, i do realize this. i don't know i just see so much appeal in being considered a responsible human being and doing something that actually benefits other people besides gracing them with my presence, friendship, blah blah blah. the college years is such a selfish time in life, and i guess everything preceding it too. it's just how you're wired because you've been given everything, had everything provided for you, and just have basic immature desires.. wanting to fit in, party hard to break down social inhibitions and wear the latest styles, etc. it's fun and all, don't get me wrong, i mean who doesn't want to blame their being too forward on the simple fact that you were drunk? it seems to erase all responsibility anyway. dude, seriously, what is so wrong with people that no one can accept responsibility for anything?? i can't stand it. [this is quickly turning into a rant]. seriously, please tell me the appeal of being perceived by everyone else in society as the demographic who is convinced that "real world" is the actual real world. companies have unfortunately had to stoop to that level to capture our .345 second attention span by slapping something shiny and superficial onto a billboard, and it's a multi-million dollar fad. it's an irreversible trend that's only spiraling downward into a black hole of social degradation.

let me know when this season of "reality" is over. thanks.

down to section 8.

2009-08-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

i haven't spent a dime since wednesday. not exactly by choice- the financial shit of my life hit the economic fan. just when i thought i was on top of everything, too.. seriously, rent wasn't going to be even remotely a problem, my tip checks haven't even begun to reflect the work i've put in as an SA [server's assistant] downstairs in the theatre, and i will be going into overtime this week. but no, i have to go through hoops to avoid bullshit that could have been avoided without pressing that damn "click here to start free trial" button. of course you did, amy, of course you did. fool.

anyway, i'm crossing my fingers in hopes that i get tipped out even though i was training as an SA those sold out nights. if not i'm nothing short of fucked, to be quite frank. we just signed up for cable [which i have no desire for] with a dvr, internet, and a land line. i'm not looking forward to seeing the water bill, seeing as someone's doing laundry literally every day. i'm trying so hard to not stress out. i know i'll be fine, i know i will. i might have to post up on aurora for a week or 4- just kidding- but i'll make ends meet. this is just a set back.

like i first said, due to this experience, i have not spent one dime [from my debit card, mind you... i've found a dollar here or there and gone crazy on a coca-cola]. all the things i gravitate towards when i do have money are things i can't have now. if i'm starving about to start seizing because my stomach is eating itself, i can have rice because i am terrified of the dreaded overdraft fees. yes, i have a positive balance but who knows if something will sneak up on me. so i'm a little paranoid, alright? it was probably good for me. but yea, it really
puts into perspective how unnecessary certain things i've gotten used to as "necessities" actually are. for example, more often than not, when i get off of work and need to kill a half hour before my bus comes, i try and linger awkwardly at the bar so i'm either: a) not pacing around the lounge like an idiot, or b) sitting at the sketch bus stop amidst a swarm of homeless people screaming at the world. after the awkward phase passes [3 minutes], i take a breath of reality and sit down and order a drink. the employees take up an entire half of the bar usually so i'm not alone at least. but now what do i do to kill time without being awkward or spending anything? impossible, yet spending isn't an issue so i resort to being awkward. --p.s. if this was an actual conversation most of my friends would be really irritated with me at the fact i could have said most of this paragraph in one sentence. just an fyi.

money is a bitch, have it or not. it either creates a comfort blanket that make you whine when you catch a little draft, or it leaves you out in the cold to only lust for it. don't get me wrong, i don't think that due to my personal situation, i know anything about poverty. my sisters and mom went on mission trips to etheopia and have seen true poverty. i will make no complaints as far as that goes. it would almost be interesting to weigh out what exactly we do and don't need. we live so lavishly here in america, it almost pisses me off. oh, for things to be simple. it's almost something to be envious of them for. they have shelter, whatever food they work for and it doesn't come from a drive through, and each other. i've been looking into working internationally. doing what, who knows, but i want to do something like that... test my comfort levels and get a little reality check in the process. i've decided i'm going to go to etheopia and help the adoption agency.

my roommate whitney [she'll always be my roommate, despite whether or not we actually live together] fosters dogs when she can. giving how much she loves dogs, i can't imagine how it feels to give them back. gonig over there and interacting with those kids will break my heart, for sure. it's about time i got a little emotional, a little passionate about something besides money and success. one thing whit says to dispute my workaholicism is simply that life is too short. i am obsessed with children, therefore i should be working with children because i am actually beyond good with them. my sisters are too. i guess, come to think of it, my parents are too. must run in the fam cause my dad and i are the only ones left who need to go.

i created a campaign for my senior capstone class with creating a campaign for underpriveleged children. it would be an organization that teams up with big companies like american apparrel or nike, etc., and takes the art of children in situations such as those in africa, and prints them on t-shirts to raise awareness about children being able to express themselves via art. people who buy the shirts in turn support the orphanage the child came from. when the child turns 18, the profits --which have been in a trust fund gaining interst since they were X years old-- will go towards an education or some means of furthering their opportunities in life. i name it "outside the lines" but who knows if that will stick. i'll have to do some intense research because i know nothing about starting an organization or anything like that. maybe i'd recruit siobhan for that, she's the queen of fundraising and benefits, etc. anyway, that's my epiphany. i had every intention of making this blog simply about the complexity of money and how unnecessary certain comodities were. turns out i just figured out what i feel i'm called to do with my life. funny how God works like that. ;D

caution tape.

2009-08-05T16:23:00.000-07:00

i'm just to go on about my new apartment. seriously though, to be able to feel home in the place which i am paying rent is beautiful. i have superb water pressure, walking distance to a bar, multiple grocery stores, coffee shops etc. the boys are great, i am totally the house mom though. not in a bad way, but i find myself.... brace yourselves - cleaning. i'm pretty sure it's just because it hasn't registered that it's my apartment yet, but still, it kind of weirds me out. as soon as everything is actually put away and organized i'm sure i won't be doing it as much, but in the meantime everything is just so cluttered i can't stand it. it's kind of a bittersweet feeling, realizing that after such a long run of clutter and being completely unorganized that you actually enjoy things being clean.

i'm hoping that this year proves to be one of truly growing up. besides the fact that i'm on my own and completely independent [no grandpa paying for my education or rent], i'm living with guys- gay ones at that- who i could not love more. i do miss whitney though :[ it's funny how one person not being there all of a sudden throws off your whole routine almost. for example, i've gotten used to coming home and running into her room and staying up 'til 4am just shooting the shit. it's going to be weird not having girl time [i realize this sounds disgustingly sentimental but just think about it]. not even girl time, becasue i usually enjoy hanging out with guys alot more than with girls. it's just not whitney, aka my life partner, i decided.

i hope i change, i really do. i am not one of those people who is opposed to change whatsoever. sure, it throws you off of your regular routine, but it's healthy i think. you get stuck in your ways when it goes on and on foreevvvveeerrrr without any sign of ceasing. it develops into a comfort zone that you can't break out of and before you know it you're 40 and have been working in a cubicle that you can barely fit a keyboard for your computer, all while hating every minute of it. i don't know what my comfort blanket is necessarily, but i'm sure i have my own things that i tend to refuse to stray from. i want to be more adventurous, yet at the saem time more successful. does that mean travel for work? i need to get a good job first...

who knows. maybe i just need a therapist.

gone fishing.

2009-07-27T02:44:00.000-07:00

i move out in a couple days- 4 actually. i hate moving. although i could not be more happy to leave where i am right now, it means i have to accept loss.

last night i stayed up until about 7am trying to fall asleep [i ended up doing those scissor kick things in bed to the kevin rudolf/lil wayne song "let it rock" to entertain myself until i did- as if that was helping]. i went outside to watch the sunrise and listened to sufjan stevens as i stood in what would have otherwise been utter and complete silence. the city wasn't awake, the upstairs to our apartment was vacant.

if there's anything to say, if there's anything to do, if there's any other way, i'll do anything for you.

it's funny how friendships change over the years. some degrade into nothing, leaving you wonder what beyond the fact that you have fun with them keeps you going back, reincluding them into your life. there's those who started off as that random person who you bond with over something as simple as you both drink on a dry campus, hate the campus, and need a roommate, soon to develop into your network of people who you can text when you're bored and chances are, they're bored too. sure, why not live with her?

some friendships are simply effortless- they just... flow. i wouldn't even call it routine because it's just something you naturally gravitate to rather than mindlessly go through the motions in doing it. when comfort levels don't exist anymore and criticism is constant and constantly requested despite the strength or pride of the other person, THAT is fluidity. maybe i just got used to "swimming" for the past 3 years, and now that i'm getting out of the water i don't know if i like not being weightless anymore. maybe i'll like running on dry land for a little bit. it could be a new experience that could be exhilerating and completely random. i just wish i could combine the two worlds. maybe fishing, if you follow the metaphor?

what is there to answer if i'm the only one? morning comes in paradise, morning comes in light. still i must obey still i must invite. if there's anything to say, if there's anything to do, if there's any other way, i'll do anything for you.

cut past all metaphors and sufjan lyical bullshit: i am definitely the kind of person who likes to move around, switch things up every once and a while. i mean, i love being a drifter. it's almost against my personality to react like this, but i guess that says alot alot alot about our frienship that i even feel like this. despite all the walls i've put up for friendships and skepticism that went into it, i guess it's an exception? it is one of the only drama-free situations i have left. this is kind of big though, and it hasn't even hit me. it probably won't until we get to salem. it's not like the fluidity will stop, i know that. we'll always be friends [and roommates, regardless of whether or not we live together], texting obsessively and giving each other a play-by-play or the usual "TMI" little fun facts.

i'm just dreading accepting the fact that given how much i miss D303 already, not even having a piece of it in human form is going to suck. hard. i luh you dogg, and i miss you already.

daydreams.

2009-07-12T15:11:00.000-07:00

i am unusually happy today. like, everything is making me smile. let me paint the situation for you: i am alone in the box office, talking on and off with a girl i met 2 nights ago about her relationship issues and how she needs to end it, listening to "heart" radio on pandora and totally ricking out to it [maybe that's it?], brainstorming logos for my friend's new business, olive only [organic potato ships made with olive oil], looking up fashion ideas for another friend's photoshoot that i'm doing her hair and make up for.

i don't know, maybe because i've been so miserable at work this past week with my life. i feel like a whale, like i'm working a dead end job with no light at the end of the tunnel [horrible metaphor but it was approriate for defining the emotion behind it], and like a magnet for other people's drama. i ordered this cleanse thing online because it was a free trial, and talked with a couple girls at work about how to cleanse everything.. i made a healthy food grocery list, did some sketches, and just keep rocking out to music. i want to make people laugh, i decided- or reconfirmed, rather.i love it, it is so fulfilling for me. who knows, i doubt i'm going to be the next stand up comedian but through one-liners, my art, my writing, my life in general. and being miserable = not being able to make people laugh because i can't myself. i feel productive at this very moment, for some reason. like if i were to sit down and start a project, i could stay for at least 12 hours and work on things before finishing.

it seems like it's been forever since i feel like i've legitimately accomplished something. my friend kate is an aspiring rapper, and she's good too. i wrote her a few lines because i was bored at the front desk last night, and she was obsessed. she's heading over right now to brainstorm different ideas with me. i like having a full schedule. i'm tired of going out/having enough TIME to go out. it's not that i don't like it, it's that i feel like i could be doing so much more with my time that it's more of a guilt issue than anything else. plus i should be saving more...

this is how i envision my career life: hanging out in my studio or somewhere that i feel particularly creative, and just research and sketch until i come up with something i enjoy, watch/listen/read tutorials if i want to learn something new, shoot images and emails back and forth to either clients or a friend [probably michaela] whose judgment i trust and just ACCOMPLISH things. do what i love doing and fucking rock at doing it. i wouldn't mind doing some writing either..

i'd love my own studio, or some form of co op with a friend so we could work together or at least not be just alone. although i might enjoy that.. i'm thoroughly enjoying myself right now. there's a time where you don't want anyone else's voive in your heaad, and there's a time when you can't stand the sound of your own bec ause you've deemed it retarded for the day. so true.

i need to work more morning box office shifts. i forgot how amazing they could be. let the cleanse begin!

acid rain.

2009-07-09T13:49:00.000-07:00

i hear the sound of pouring rain, the unsettled leaves plastered to the ground.
forever is being washed away, and i'll drink to that.
welcome to paradise, my love, perhaps we'll get it next time 'round.
with water dripping off my skin, i close my eyes to breathe.
today i leave you for another, your eyes now heavy and blind.
the door is rusting shut, but this is not the sound of new rain.
stacks of old cables hold you back yet again, your love no longer mine.
i won't look back, i promise, for i will not be paralyzed like you.
reveling in your pride, you can smile upon the binds cutting your wrists.
they're the only thing you have left, besides the scars they'll leave.
i walk alongside the water as it streams down the pavement, clenching my fists,
wanting nothing more than to free you from yourself- perhaps another day.

good times gonna come.

2009-07-02T15:25:00.000-07:00

i wonder if, with some people, you only miss them because you miss the times you had with them- how things used to be. there are certain friends that i would give anything to spend more time with if our schedules worked out, but every time i do, the same things happen and i never have fun. every time i know i'm hanging out with them i get really excited and the events are really built up and everything, but it will never be how it was. it's kind of hard to wrap my head around, but undeniably true.

why do friendships have to dwindle into something that becomes stressful, like maintenance, all for the sake of saving it? things change, i know. i guess i have at least 2 friendships that have remained constant over an extended period of time; the dynamic is the same, we still get along, and we can go forever without talking to each other and have things be exactly the same when we talk or hang out again.

maybe it's a cleanse? i don't know. unfortunate and sad things end up the way they do, but that's when those few people who don't change [in a bad way] remind you that they mean the world to you.

count your blessings.

2009-06-29T11:50:00.000-07:00

i'm beyond excited to move, get out of my shithole of an apartment that's infested with spiders and constantly invaded by ants. sick. don't get me wrong, moving out is going to be a bittersweet experience, for sure. but i'm hoping that i will be more focused on my goals, etc. i think i'm going to get a laptop this weekend when i go to oregon with whit. my parents are putting $500 towards it so it won't be a problem, and michaela's letting me have her copy of the suites [well, letting my copy them] for FREE.

it's hard for me to realize how blessed i am sometimes. well, more so easy to forget than hard to realize. but seriously, i remember in high school i used to bitch and complain how strict my parents were, which yes was suffocating and drove me absolutely crazy-insane, and i rebelled enough for my entire family tree combined. yes, my family is that conservative, but i think it took being raised at one extreme for me to find me. i didn't rebel hardcore or completely fuck my life up, i just arrived at different conclusions than everyone expected. i was reading my mom's blog, a woman who is so well-grounded and ultimately one of the most hilarious people you'll ever meet, and it's interesting to hear about the things going on when we hardly ever talk unless something needs to be talked about. i need to work on my temper. my fuse has gotten shorter and shorter, and i truly sympathize for anyone happen to be holding a conversation [aka, the ticking time bomb that is me] when the fuse runs out.

i just need to not take things for granted. i seem to do that more often than not, and then freak out when my equilibrium is thrown off, even slightly. i am addicted to chaos it seems, which naturally contradicts my obsessive goal-oriented tendencies. way to be unconventional amy, way to be. i never would have predicted that i would be saying this now, but i am so so grateful to have grown up in a "frugal" lifestyle. we ordered from the dollar menu when we went out to eat, once a month or so. we had hand-me-downs, and not only within the family but from our babysitters. it has seriously made me so aware of other people's financial situations, and just more sensitive to other people in general and being able to read their comfort levels. then i can swoop in, interject, and make their day. ;D

back to my blessings, besides the fact that i don't have a career job at the moment, i can't really complain except that i'm not independently wealthy... i kid, i kid. but seriously, i just got approved for a new apartment with a rad view of the sound, i get to go home for the 4th and spend some much needed time with the fam and whitney- probably half and half. i'm going to get a laptop while i'm down there, tax free of course, and getting the adobe creative suites for free! i need something to save up for next... i always need goals otherwise i'll blow my money on food and drinks. i do that anyway, but that's besides the point.

i've decided i'm going to decorate my bedroom, once we move in, with typography. i know, how much more of a nerd can i possibly be. i'm going to depend on my knack to get furniture for free to furnish the entire apartment, and i want to buy more things that i'll keep with me as i move: kitchen stuff, sweet pieces of art that i've made or am just obsessed with, lots of nike, random furniture, odds and ends that are "really me", you know the drill. anyway, i genuinely hope that i don't completely drop every friendship that i developed in college, that at least 5 weren't convenience friendships. my mom is still best friends with her best friends from college, i call them my aunts. they were both there when i was born. that is something i can only hope and pray for.

somewhere, over the rainbow.

2009-06-21T10:49:00.000-07:00

it's funny what 3am conversations can bring out, make you think about. after a free jolly rancher shot and a couple vodka sodas, amanda, aj, and i made our way over to beth's for coffee and a cinnamon roll. she tells me she's going to write a book on christian hatred, wondering where tolerance has gone.

brilliant.

i graduated this past sunday, june 14th, and there were protesters outside from westboro baptist church claiming that God hates gay people, and that we're all going to hell for being methodist. i personally am not, but let's be real here, it's not like they would take that into consideration before making these claims.

this is why people hate christians, because of these radically opinionated and terrible assholes who throw around the name, judging everyone they come into contact with while tainting christianity for everyone. this is the stigma that can't be shaken either.

i personally am not very religious. i have my beliefs, definitely, but i approach it very open-mindedly and in relation with society. there are certain things i have questioned that have changed my mindset since my sunday school days, and most of those things have lead me to simply leave it unanswered, because i just don't know how i feel about my faith, or what's left of it, if they were one way or another.

i would be absolutely horrified if i even knew someone as judgmental as the "christians" who decided to grace my graduation ceremony with their presence. who do you think you are? the thing that pisses me off the most is that that is not witnessing. some of my best friends are gay, and i LOVE them. i'm moving in with 3 gay guys, and feel absolutely no conviction about it. i don't understand why people are so scared of opening their minds and branching out to break the stigma. who are you to judge, to look down upon them as if all sin wasn't equal? i'm so, so tired of it. i shouldn't be ashamed to associate myself with the christian belief because of a stereotype that is actually more accurate than it's given credit for.

i remember growing up and hearing about early christians being persecuted and tortured for their beliefs. is this revenge or something? i hate how when people feel discriminated against and like the minority, they feel the need to rise not just to equality, but above. it's everyone: racism [except against white people- everyone's still getting back at them for some reason], feminism, sexual orientation, politics, etc. you see all these protests and everything providing nothing but discrimination against those who discriminated them first. now we have status quo. qualifications are no longer what are important, what matter, no see everything has to be proportionate- not equal, mind you, but proportionate. bullshit.

my cousin just denounced her faith in God completely. in turn, she makes fun of them, ridiculing everything that they stand for, believe in, everything. in a way, it can be understood, when they behave in such a way as those loving people from westboro baptist. but in a way isn't she just turning around and doing the same thing she's accusing christians of doing? maybe people are just bred to hate. we're brought up, especially now, with causes being shoved down our throats: going green, abortion, vaccinations, third world hunger, adoption, etc. don't get me wrong, it's not that i oppose any of them by any means, but people are just constantly pressured to be for something. standing up for what you believe is admirable, don't get me wrong, but you don't see me standing outside of adidas screaming that nike is better and i enjoy their soccer shorts more. why is that? because nobody cares. just like nobody cares if you think they're going to hell because they are wired differently.

i like to be an efficient person in pretty much everything i do. if i want change, i'll do it in an efficient manner. protesting never accomplishes anything other than a spectacle for people to roll their eyes at, a stronger distaste toward the subject, and traffic. who knows, maybe if everyone didn't have to be so strongly for these causes, the hatred would go down. open-minded and apathetic. the whole apathetic concept may raise a few hairs as far as a lack of commitment goes, but perhaps conflict would settle down. look at me, trying to accomplish world peace, one blog at a time.... revolutionary, really.

tolerance has fled, love has been limited, and christianity as it was intended to be seems rare. maybe beth's coffee and cinnamon rolls is the real answer here. see you there past 2am on any given night.

the metronome.

2009-06-17T02:31:00.000-07:00

i have had the urge to play the piano a lot lately. it helps me think, process, analyze. it sets the tempo for your thoughts, almost leading them along as your thought process falls naturally into place. perhaps that's just me.

maybe that will end up being my niche once i start my career of some sort. instead of words, ideas will rhythmically fall into place in artistic form, as my marketing/design oriented mindset send ideas simply flying to the tempo of a piano. of course, they would be completely unconventional and rebellious to any design norms as far as aesthetic is concerned. maybe i'll become a writer for some design firm. i'll have to email wexley. maybe i can move my way through the whole firm by the end of the summer, at the rate i'm going.

it feels so strange not being busy other than working. no homework any more, no all-nighters that aren't self-induced spent in the solemn white walls of the art center, scrambling to finish projects the professor decides aren't worth actually looking at. i usually spent most of those nights listening to rap/hip hop rather than piano music though, so perhaps that was my problem. action scripting probably would have been a breeze.... oh, hindsight.

pianos should really be in marching bands, i think. a baby grand planted half-field, the rest of the band circling around it, as the pianist comes in at just the right time with pounding accents and some relief from the brass section. i would enjoy that much more than your conventional college band at half time of a big game. switch things up a little bit i guess. then again, i'm all about the unconventional. i'd probably need an unconventional metronome then, to stay consistent.

who knows. who knows that i'm even talking about or if it's making any sense at all. i'm just rambling.

i'll take it.

summer jams.

2009-05-31T19:21:00.001-07:00

graduation could not come any sooner. here i am, yet again, in the art center listening to bloc party, ratatat, cat power, roisin murphy... all those bomb artists i pump when i wanna relax or am just not feeling like visualizing myself in some motivational sports video. here's a little update for all none of you that read this: i had a job. i had it and it was stripped away from me without me even knowing it. it was with seattle magazine doing design and production. they said they wanted me, they said i started on tuesday [this last tuesday], and when i waited for the call, email, anything, it never came. turns out they went with someone with more availablity... after they said yes whilst knowing my availability.

seriously guys. seriously.

it was one of those ground-breaking moments though, where i realized how much stress and emphasis i put on my career. when i found out i didn't get it after all, it felt like i was being broken up with. the only time i've ever been broken up with was my sophomore year in high school and it was in a note, but it was my first boyfriend so it stung pretty badly, duh. it was the same thought process though, where you center your entire world around your significant other and are subconsciously more than willing to drop anyone and everyone for the love of your life. i had developed that mindset over the course of the weekend. scary. i can't imagine what things are going to be like when i get an actual job. could you imagine if i ever got married? i'd be bridezilla for sure... good thing i'm not. and i wouldn't be bridezilla, so don't worry about it.

thinking about it though, it was too good to be true. i called the temp agency that i had applied to last summer [aahh, cue cold war kids 'hospital beds'] and asked if they happened to have any entry level jobs at the moment, that i was still receiving their emails but didn't have 3 years of professional experience under my belt. i left the message with the secretary and went back to eating wild ginger food in the box office.

she called me back about 5 minutes later and said they did have something, asked if my resume was current and if i had a portfolio i could send them. i had made one the night before [score] so i gave her the link and crossed my fingers the rest of my shift. i woke up around 10am the next morning with 3 missed calls, a voicemail and an email from her, begging me to call her back, that she had some excellent news. as i was about to, i saw she was calling again. she excitedly explained that they wanted to hire me, blah blah blah. i freak out, etc. etc.

the only thing that's racing through my head is "i am beating the system, defying all odds, and totally badass right now" mixing ever-so-slightly with a little "how the hell am i going to add something else on top of finishing my senior show, working at 3D, doing my internship, and school?" but the former was definitely more prevalent...

i'm trying to tell myself now that time in between is good, that i need to focus on the work that i have now so i can save up for a laptop and everything so i CAN work. i don' even want to think about all of the things i have to pay for in the near future: rent, deposit, laptop, the creative suites, etc..

it's gonna be a crazy summer. bring it.

my quarter-life crisis.

2009-05-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

i've recently discovered that despite the fact that i have always had a plan- some sort of plan at least, that i have absolutely no idea if i want to do design anymore. school is nothing like the professional world [and i knew that] but before, it was something that motivated me. now all i can really do is wonder if this is what i'm supposed to be doing. as busy as i feel life is sometimes, i feel completely lazy, as if i'd get eaten alive in the real world. i don't see eye to eye with so many people- too many people, that it scares me.

usually this is the point where people are reassured that they made the appropriate career choice, right? i'm not looking forward to my senior show, not looking forward to final projects with worthless professors who don't know the programs they are teaching despite the fact i'm paying 30 grand a year to be taught them. if anything this should just be reassureance that i can get a job because i actually do know them. i need a therapist, maybe an anger management session or 7.

my work ethic isn't as strong as i thought it was, which is a terrifying thought in itself. i'm not as exhausted as i should be, and my bank account doesn't reflect the hours i put in per week. to sacrifice time i could be spending working on design. where has it gotten me? nowhere. who knows if i need affirmation, a hug, or just to graduate already. at this point i could care less. i'm just over everything. who knows where i'll move- at this point it's looking like i'm staying in seattle, as torn as i am. maybe praying about it will help, it's been ages since i've done that.

getting a rockstar job offer somewhere awesome where i know absolutely no one and i can just lay out with my laptop and brainstorm over skype with someone who i don't want to punch in the face, like michaela. i've been reading the designer's guild to gain some kind of insight on what my rights are and everything as a designer [assuming i won't drop out of my 20-something days of school i have left] that i should know once i get out.

maybe i should direct everythig into typography. i love typography. i could develop my own fonts, be the next david carson or stefan sagmeister as far as being a fanatic goes. i don't like anyone else's rules anyway. it's not like i feel the pressure of people's expectations on me, i've never really been one to meet them anyway, or at least see them fitting me as a person. who knows. i sure as hell don't. maybe things will just fall into place. they usually do. i'm just not used to these crises at this magnitude. seems trivial, but for someone who has atleast engrained in her mind that she has her shit together, has goals, plans, this isn't working.

bliss.

2009-05-07T12:34:00.000-07:00

besides my childhood, there are not very many points in my life where i would go back and actually relive over again. there are times that are enjoyable and times that are pure ecstasy. as busy as i am right now, it's more of a realistic type of busy- the kind that i'll actually face in reality. nothing like the 'busy' that i knew in 2008. that was the kind of busy where i went o bed around 2am every night, only to wake up at 4 to work out for 2 hours. after a full day of classes i'd go to my second workout and then do homework until midnight with meals at 7eleven smashed somewhere in there. my body knew nothing of rest or relaxation. i felt like i was on crack for months at a time, only i never got to pass out for 5 days straight.

my apartment was bliss, although i was never there. if i had the chance to go home, i would. my roommates were 2 of my best friends- we respected each other, although you could never tell by how we talked to each other. we were invincible. for the majority of our lease, our apartment was surrounded by scaffolding and what appeared to be a giant condom of fireproof tarping. we would sit outside on the scaffolding laughing, drinking, photoshooting and talking about life. some of the deepest conversations i've ever had were on our porch staring through a whole i had knifed out so we could see the outside world- although they couldn't see us. and contrary to my appreciation of being the center of attention, i simply revelled in the fact that i was untouchable by any one who stood three stories down -although we peered through that whole several times to drunkenly call people waiting for the bus up to hang out with us.

the 3 of us, in D303. we went through similar situations at the same time, and ultimately grew so pissed off we trashed our entire apartment. we ripped papers off the walls and off of our coffee table, and destroyed the coffee table itself while we were at it. if anything covered a surface, we violently hurled it onto the floor. our entire living room was overturned when we stepped back and ordered take-out. so liberating, no boundaries and no worries. literally, we had no worries. a stray cigarette started a fire in the bushes below after we all passed out so we poured water off the balcony 6 hours later, someone sprayed tahitian breeze body wash all over our white couch so we doused it in bleach in our drunken state, they apartment manager sent a maintenance man who was challenged to the point no one could understand him, the fire alarm would go off every time we boiled water without fail, most of our furniture was found in the dumpster, walls covered in newspaper, meals consisted of bagels and cream cheese and mac and cheese- one pot each- which was still fought over, and the rest of the time we were blacked out.

i am convinced i will never have another experience like that. how can i? let me know if there is an apartment complex with a D303 and i'm there. if we're friends on facebook, look at my 'get stuck on my elevator' album. it's gold.

one stroke. one sound.

2009-04-30T23:51:00.000-07:00

we get down to the shell house at the ripe ol' time of 5:45am to be safe. someone shows up at 6:01, they're doing 150 ballistics after practice. show up at 6:10, they got 200 and get thrown in the canal. no shows? eh, they just do the whole shpeel then next day, and tack on an extra 50 ballistics just for shits and giggles.. oh, ha, ballistics are the ever-lovely calf burning, ass-toning jumping drills where an oar is propped up against the back of a couch and the person must jump over the halfway mark, over and back equaling one completed. a long 150 for a miserable one minute late.

we grab hold of the boat at the coxwain's "all hands on", and walk it down in the pitch black to the dock, where we set it in the water, sit down and tie in. we push off the dock and do warm ups. it's utter silence other than the sound of the boat skimming across the water, our oarlocks clunking simultaneously as we feather and square our blades. feather. square. feather. square. its like a pulse.

the boat glides under the fremont bridge, the silence interrupted by the cars running over the grated surface. in about 25 strokes, if we look up, the aurora bridge looms far overhead. by this time the sky is a light purple. the cox calls out a power ten, and the speed doubles as we power up.

as we pass gasworks park, couples can be seen huddled under blankets holding coffee in a feeble attempt to keep warm. a corner of my mouth turns upward as i glance down at my bare arms, and i focus once again on the rhythm. feather. square. feather. square.

and then something glorious happens. just as the sky begins to turn an orange-pink, the clouds breaking apart, i feel rain begin to hit my face. i look down again at my arms as they become speckled with waterdrops, leading my gaze to the water surrounding me. little circles that rippled outward covered the entire surface for as far as i could see. our hair matted to the sides of our faces, we turned the boat around, as the most breathtaking sunrise welcomed the sight of faces rather than backs. "way enough" the cox said, and we stopped rowing and let our blades skid across the water, staring at the closest thing to the Aurora Borealis that Seattle would ever see.

and people wonder why i do crew.

wonderwall.

2009-04-30T23:50:00.002-07:00

it comes every once and a while, something that convinces you to let your guard down. it coaxes you with charm or even its own flaws, setting your nerves at ease.

something that makes you feel.

your whole life, experience has led you to believe the only way to survive as one of the fittest was to block what seemed too unbearable to be felt. once you've felt it, why let yourself feel it again? live and learn. lose and move on.

pride normally is the driving force to continue on- unless it is torn by the matter, that is. then stubbornness take over. you become so headstrong toward figuring out what about that matter was able to penetrate everything you've built up to prevent saving you from yourself.

maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me.

happy hour.

2009-04-30T23:50:00.001-07:00

we sit behind a pane of glass that is far from bulletproof, as we observe social expectations go from a steady drip to a torrential downpour through the cracks of the only foundation we have left, and we laugh.

the water level rises against the glass, as we finish the empty calories in our own. high society has trained us to suck it in when he walks through the door, smoke a cigarette to curb hunger, and care about the preservation of the environment despite the fact that our own is contained in a glass box that slowly but surely drowning.

nothing fails in the world of individualism. keep no ties, for they will soon be washed away. it's a beautiful life, really. boundaries are endless until you are pressed up against that damned pane of glass in your cocktail dress, holding your empty drink and smoldering cigarette filter. the music plays in the background as you regain your balance, smiling as you smooth out your dress and suck it in yet again, hoping he didn't see.

only a few more inches now. we glance briefly and then catch ourselves. we laugh.

i'll have one more drink, please.

clueless.

2009-04-18T17:06:00.000-07:00

i have no idea what i want to do after graduation. i'm between so many different things i can't decide which one to deal with first. my money-driven mindset tells me not to flinch if i don't have a job lined up somewhere else. i have a job here, i have a base to fall back on if something else doesn't work out. if i move to portland or somewhere else, i have no idea what to expect- which, in a way it could be exciting, moving to a city i feel i should be familiar with but struggle to find pleasure in. i would figure out a way to adapt, a way to succeed and be happy, i'm sure. it would be economicall smarter to live there due to lack of sales tax, cheaper rent and just cheaper everything...

part of me- no, most of me wants to move somewhere where i know absolutely no one and start over, where nothing is familiar. all or nothing. someplace sunny and upbeat, and in need of good design. i want to be able to be within driving distance of a palm tree or reasonably-warm ocean water. it's not that i'd be perfectly content alone, i couldn't imagine living with anyone besides my roommate, or being even close to as compatible with. i just don't know if it's worth living somewhere i wouldn't want. i feel like now is my chance to go wherever i want. i came to seattle partially for someone else, i don't want that to be the only reason i'd move to portland. my plan is to basically whore myself out to different design agencies as well as freelance clients, and go from there. i have nothing else to go off of.

rain clouds.

2009-04-17T01:46:00.000-07:00

on an infinitely seamless trail of uneven ground and worn soles, the wind weaves through my hair as it whispers stories yet to be told. my feet continue in motion, although without destination in mind as the clouds fold over themselves in front of me. i breathe in time with each step, each mile, each day. it's the window in front of me that i can never actually walk through, the glass just moves with me.

they say a city lies somewhere beneath, holding its legends, its memories, and history close. they say the shadows still dance along the earth, even thought the music is gone- as if they didn't need anything to cast them except for the clouds when the rain refuses to fall. but the music never died- i can hear it. the beat that paces each step, the pulse to each breath and the melody the wind still whistles. it fades softly as most memories do, buried once again in the ruins.

terrified to find what should remain in the past, i walk on. no skeletons i haven't seen before to reunite with their lost shadows, no history that is doomed to repeat itself, no luring scent created for enticing, and no familiar tune. no, i will keep counting each mile with each tarnished breath. i have already inhaled you, i have done the dance, and i have buried you before.

stop.

the beat has changed, and i can exhale freely in time with the living.

which world am i on again?

2009-04-15T03:42:00.000-07:00

i'm glad we've finally come to a meeting place- a mutual knowledge of where we both stand. completely emotionless, we go through the motions selfishly trying to get the most out of the otherwise meaningless encounter we have. you assure me you're satisfied, which means we're done here, and neither of us remember the rest.

i guess i've arrived at some new checkpoint. i've been "friends" with people before and not particularly been obsessed with them, but never to the point where i labeled them as good for serving one purpose that keeps them in my phone book. and that we're using each other for the same thing... it makes things less complicated- no expectations, no surprises, it's strictly functional.

i beat this level in my sleep. on to the next stage. i wonder if i'll wake up.

pump your breaks.

2009-03-31T14:43:00.000-07:00

most people can remember a point in their lives where they left their childhood behind, no turning back. innocence was a recent memory and somehow unappealing because you're eager to explore what you had yet to be exposed to all those years. we're all in a hurry to grow up, to not be treated as a child and know everything there is to know about the world.

it happens all at once, so while you're leaving everything for everything, the transition is altogether exhilarating. in fact you don't really notice there was one until look back. ah, the power of self-reflection. you forget your childhood dreams as the expectations set in. your dreams are suddenly implausible, and you scramble to find society's highest regarded profession.

i didn't have time to dream. reality stuck them somewhere in the back of my mind.

i've always prided myself in having always been imaginative, creative, artistic, athletic, as well as the countless other things your parents simply marvel about. and somehow i'm afraid that my dreams were dictated by them. i can tell you right now i've always wanted to be gorgeous- a model actually. that's how the photoshoots began. i would have killed to be popular, and in high school it happened, sure enough. i wanted to be mia hamm, although i would have been thrilled with any professional athlete. to this day whenever i put headphones in and listen to music that can be remotely classified as "motivational", i picture myself in a sports movie, usually soccer. i've dreamt of being famous since i can remember. if modelling or professional sports didn't work out, i'd write my own autobiography. not so much for the money, but because i love the sound [not literally, i'm rather annoyed by it] of my own voice. things i've kept either hidden or only a select people know about me would finally be out on the open, and to the entire world at that. i'd rather have you know and judge me than for you to think i'm someone i'm not or to not understand why i am the way i am. most people who would read it wouldn't even know me, but after, they would. i would have loved to be a mermaid if i could have been anything in the world. they're beautiful [well, i would have been had i gotten my way], can breathe underwater, swim really fast, have long flowing hair... unfortunately i have just defined myself as a victim of fantasy.

i lived in one among the comforts of my imagination and backyard until my sophomore year of high school, a few months before i started driving. when my focus drifted to my social life, my imagination left me. no longer was it socially acceptable to "play make believe" anymore for hours with your younger siblings, although i could play for hours on end with mine. i was thrusted into the mature world where becoming popular- no, even acknowledged by a guy- became an obsession. my best friend moved back to australia and a new one would be my roommate in college. my relationship faded with my sisters more quickly than i could realize, and i stopped at nothing to get what, or who, i wanted. i taught myself not to feel anything i didn't want to, so my parents' anguish in my declining moral state was disregarded as a petty annoyance, my sisters, unnoticed, and guys who hooked up with me and then someone else, simply part of the game, and with a smile on my face the entire time. people come and go without a second glance, and i had no intention of pursuing one unsolicited.

i was the definition of a badass. my dream morphed from being famous to invincible. i know it's still in there somewhere, that little speck of vulnerability. i wouldn't be writing at all if there wasn't. now if someone could please take me back to my backyard and give me a soccer ball and jersey with the number 9 on it and some headphones, that'd be sweet, thanks.

thank you, king midas.

2009-03-27T01:07:00.000-07:00

i've never been particularly skilled in the sleeping arena. my mind races as soon as my head hits the pillow, usually about when the reverberations of my actions will hit me and how pleasant that moment in life will be. who i will still be friends with after graduation and how i can count them on one hand, my obsession with diving into the career world head first and never looking back. you know, the fun stuff.

i want to read more. i'm on spring break right now and i'm on my second 700 page book by john grisham. law subjects and other legal matters have always intrigued me for some reason, and i read ridiculously fast, so it's worked out well thus far. working out is also something that has plummeted dramatically on my priority list. my greed and insatiable need to be busy keep working nearly full-time at number one, school at a close second, my brief social encounters at third and anything i can justify as a priority fills every spot above working out somehow. as someone who thrives on motivation through fear of failing, you'd think i'd get it together. people who have time to get it together aren't busy enough.

i'm beyond tired of the northwest. i finally got to leave the city of seattle for the first time in 3 months when my roommate whitney and i drove down to portland to fly down to hermosa beach to get away. i hate not having a car to hop into whenever i need space and just go. instead i sit cooped up in an apartment i loathe or in the stark white, windowless room that is the computer lab at the art center and just listen to music. my schedule this quarter will be busier than last quarter though, so i'll have plenty of time to continue my streak of bad sleeping and eating habits, avoid home, and simply make money.

"life isn't just about money."

tell that to someone who doesn't have it, or isn't generous, and you'll suddenly realize that you have no work ethic, have never had to worry about money because it's there, or simply have not begun to fathom the future of their independent financial status- if it will even be independent. i'm not really sure why that phrase just rubs me the wrong way, but it does. obviously money can't literally buy happiness: a car, plane, boat, mansion.. but if i'm in my 30's and someone in my family or whoever is completely broke, i will be able to help them out, and that will make me happy. my grandpa didn't pay 30 grand a year for me to not amount to anything because i simply don't believe in money. money is not unethical, it's a product of ethics actually. not the root of all evil, evil can grow from nothing and as a result of a lack of money. i'm going to be doing something i want to do, and in excess. enough of the partying like i'm a sophomore in high school, i'm getting more and more over it the more that i go to, and as i should be, in my opinion.

save money, reach goals. it doesn't take a self-help book to figure it out. get more internships to gain experience and contacts, work your ass off so you can say you actually earned something in life.

don't get me wrong, i can be the laziest person ever- ask the people i suggest working out with. and say i got fat. i mean huge. but i was happy because i wasn't stressing over looking like a model or the people on the cover of cosmo. i ate what i wanted and damnit, i didn't need some anorexic introducing me to the endless flavor of celery sticks. well guess what, eventually the youthful metabolism shuts off completely and eventually the fact that i'm fat and happy really doesn't matter because guess what, i can't lift my arm to pick up my tri-daily milkshake. welcome back to the real world, where as you're 'happy', you're completely useless. because you lack the resources- besides your amiable demeanor and fuzzy warm heart- to effectively help someone close to you. why? because happiness doesn't usually cover a new car engine, a new washer and dryer, or unexpected debt. money does. and prayer, but i firmly believe that God helps those who help themselves.

a long-winded and rather choppy metaphor, i know, but isn't everything on here?

empty swing in manitou park, pt. II.

2009-03-19T23:52:00.000-07:00

i would give anything to go back to that day, two summers ago and sit on that very swing at manitou park. for i sat down with every intention of getting back up the same person- with my head held high and a smile across my face, no matter how it got there. i felt a tug on my shirt and turned to see a little girl, not more than three staring up at me the biggest eyes i'd ever seen.

my whole life, i have always gotten along beautifully with children. i've been able to play with them, discipline them, and especially love them. i first started babysitting when i was 12, watching kids as little as 3 and as old as 8. as i grew older, my so did my responsibilities. soon i was one of three people in charge of 150 kids for 8 hours a day. i was 15. when basketball season started my sophomore year in high school, one of my coaches brought her daughter, yasmeen, to practice every day who had just turned 2 years old. one day i asked her if she wanted to play basketball with me. by the time we had our first game, she told her mom that i was her best friend, and would ask me every day if she could 'come at my house', and every day, she did. when the basketball guys would come and get me in a headlock or the random even that i would date someone occured, she hated them. when they touched me she would scream that i was her best friend, and she could ask them if they could hold my hand or hug me. yasmeen would try and follow me out on the court when the game would start, and she came to every one. i almost trampled her several times on a fast break. she was 2 back then. we still talk on the phone to this day.

fast forward to august 2007.

"c'you poosh me?"

how could i not? i stood up, and lifted her up and onto the baby swing next to me and began to gently push her back and forth. she squealed, hardly unable to breathe besides telling me to go higher and higher. she leaned forward as far as she could without tumbling forward, reaching for the ground racing beneath her. i walked around so i was standing in front of her so i could watch her. she looked exactly like yasmeen, and she acted a little like her too. some of the other kids wanted to be pushed, and when i would alternate, she would glare at them, only to look back at me and say "i fought you poosh me?" i smiled, continuing to push her.

i talked to her, asking her her name. it was kayvon. i asked her how old she was. she forcefully held up three fingers and yelled "free!", and as i began to look around, i began to wonder who she was with. i had thought it rather odd that she just randomly walked up to me in the first place, but that was almost an hour ago. i slowed her wing down and asked her where her mommy was. she smiled and asked me to go higher. "mommy's in hostipal. her foot broke."

"who are you here with baby girl?"

"auntie. and gamma."

"where are they?"

she looked around for a second, her eyes scanning the park. my heart was racing.
"oh no," she sighed dramatically heavily. "they left me again."

my heart still raced, but this time with fury. i told her to hold on as i walked 20 feet over to my aunt, telling her that this beautiful little girl everyone had noticed i was bonding with was actually left here, completely alone. i began to get frantic the more i told her, but i never took my eyes off of her, staring back at me in confusion the whole time.

my aunt walked over with me as did several other people who overheard me, clearly not okay, express serious concern. i walked up to her first, and kayvin just looked at me. then she noticed the other people walking up too, and when she swayed towards me, she reached out and grabbed my hand, clutching onto it for dear life it seemed. my heart was breaking.

i knelt down, trying to keep all the rage inside of me towards whoever left her at a park where there had been 2 shootings only months before, and not only that, but who hadn't noticed by now. "kayvon, honey, what's your auntie's name?" she tugged on my hand, reminding me she was still in a swing and, in case i forgot, that meant for me to push her. my aunt tried, then someone else. she squeezed my hand and pulled her swing closer to me and started to whine, reaching out with her other hand to be picked up. i took her into my arms and she buried her face in my shoulder, and sobbed.

people crowded around her as i begged for them to leave. she was now the 'lost girl' and everyone had to have their crack at her. as if i wasn't infuriated enough, trying to keep it together telling people nicely to please get the fuck away was torture. i walked off by myself, only allowing my aunt to come with me. she called the police as i tried to get any information out of her as i could. i held her against my chest for 2 hours, trying to be something she could depend on to be there, someone who just loved her. and i did.

the police finally came. he got out of his car, walked straight up to me and reached out for her. she screamed. i stepped back, "what are you doing? she's terrified and doesn't know you." i wanted to lunge at him. he paused, stared at me, probably thought i was crazy as my aunt interjected, telling him the story. he didn't stop looking at me for a while until finally it was just awkward to not make eye contact with my aunt since she was talking to him anyway. when she finished, he asked me what i knew. hesitantly, i gave him the information i had managed to get from kayvon, who surprisingly knew her aunt's full name.

another hour passed as he tried to get a hold of her aunt and grandma. he finally did. her mother had been in a car accident the night before, pushing kayvon in a stroller across tacoma avenue on her way to pik up heroin. the car had missed the stroller by a foot. custody was transferred to her grandma that night. her aunt and cousin had met the two of them at the park earlier that day, communication got messed up and both left assuming the other party had her. the officer asked her grandma if she had noticed she was gone, or even called her aunt to chekc on her. she hadn't.

the cop walked slowly over to me, cautiously as to not scare her, and pulled a dora the explorer sticker from his pocket and showed it to kayvon. she wiped her nose with her entire arm, reached out and took it. she handed it to me with a huge smile and pointed to her chest. i slowly peeled it off and stuck it on her little pink shirt. kayvon beamed at me proudly.

the cop touched her elbow and said it was time to go and she needed to go with him, that he was going to take her to grandma's house. i froze, staring in disbelief at him. he was going to take her right back to the crazy old hag who left her here in the first place. my eyes darted over to my aunt, insisting that she tell him off. she shook her head no in warning. i made kayvon look me in the eye and told her she needed to go with the sticker man and he was going to take her back to grandma's house.

"c'you come wif me?" i died a little bit.

"no baby, i have to stay here."

she stopped, looking at her sticker. "okay."

the cop reach out and took her, setting her down in the front seat and buckling her in. no car seat, nothing. this cop was an idiot. he pulled away and i could see her strain her neck up so she could watch as they drove away. i waved until i couldn't see her anymore. when they pulled out, i turned around silently, and began to walk away. my aunt caught up with me.
"mames, how you doin baby love?" her hand rested on my shoulder.

i collapsed to the ground, convulsing as i cried the hardest i can remember. she knelt down and held me clsoe to her, telling me how proud she was of me and that God put me here so she could find me, not just anyone. me. all i remember saying repeatedly was that i couldn't fathom how that happens, how someone could leave a CHILD. fuck with anyone dude, seriously, but kids? that's what gets me absolutely irate. they're completely helpless, especially at 3 years old? my heart completely broke that day, for the first time, and it hasn't broke since. that day, in manitou park, for a child.

what i would give to be able to break like that again.

eye of the storm.

2009-03-16T14:49:00.000-07:00

icy wind beat against my thin sweatshirt that was two sizes too small. my legs, having long given up trying to fit inside, were tucked right up against my chest as i hugged them as tightly as i could. i buried my face in the crook of my arm, and sobbed.

i have not slept at all in 28 hours, and only 8 hours in the past 3 days. i don't know why i cried, or why i did so hard. day old mascara covers my sleeves, and the whites of my eyes look the same tint of blood red that they did the day i came home from surgery, and my chest feels as if it's going to cave in. the cashier from 7eleven recommended that i upgrade from a starbucks double shot to a 5 hour energy shot. i regretfully declined.

it's time for me to rest. to REALLY rest. i just don't know if i know how. so close to the edge,

'but good times gonna come. it's gonna be, a bright, beautiful day. good times gonna come.'

leather interior.

2009-03-15T02:15:00.000-07:00

i'm not really sure why i sit for hours on end in this stark white room, staring blankly at a screen with whatever music playing in the background to help make the experience more enjoyable. i really just want to drive. i want an adrenaline rush even though it's been weeks since i've slept more than 6 hours in one night. i want to sit in the drivers' seat, press the accelerator as far down as i can with the windows down and the sunroof pulled back. i want my hair to blow in every possible direction so when i finally run out of gas it looks like i've gone to the beach daily without showering for weeks. over-sized sunglasses prevent my eyes from watering, as my heart continues to beat to the rhythm of the bass surging from the speakers. i want to just ride in silence- in a constant state of contradiction, with so much going on around me as i sit peacefully, uninterrupted and perfectly content in my state of horizontal free fall.

anticipation. i wish i knew to when anticipate; i simply expect.

i am contradiction defined. i want to work my life away, 70+ hours a week, without another peer pressure to touch me. i never want my friends to leave my side, or to not include me. i view my life from a 3rd person perspective , because then 1st person me never feels the emotional repercussions i would bring upon myself. they're somehow blocked out by logic before it even has a chance to hit me; yet i still manage to touch it. i can grasp it, but it doesn't get through. i just continue on in a free fall.

eventually the ground will come to a sudden end as i press the pedal down an extra centimeter, just for that last push. the wheels continue to accelerate even though there is nothing beneath them. you will tell me over and over again that they're not doing anything, to just take my foot off of the damn pedal. i will, as i continue forward and the car begins to fall downward, lifting me up off of the seat, my hands meeting the roof of the car, eyes closed. no anticipating the impact, simply expecting the free fall to end at some point. there are always forks in the road. mine simply don't connect my paths. i'm jolted back into grabbing the wheel. the car drives differently on each road, it's just a matter of adjusting each time.

independence day.

2008-09-25T00:36:00.000-07:00

the first day of classes of my senior year is in 5 days now, and my independence is already counting down the days until that last day of classes of my college career. a sudden urgency scrambles to formulate the most plausible scenario of where i'll be a year from now, what my bank statement will read and if that will be enough for a deposit on my own apartment.

this summer's been a teaser the whole way through. antsy the first 2 months of it, i waited the day i could label myself as a busy person. yesterday, i felt that feeling. finally i am working a decent amount of hours to get me out of the house for an extended period of time and keep me busy, my free time is disappearing before my eyes and i should be able to get my plane ticket in the next couple of weeks. the dead time had just been prolonging the last day of school even more, leaving me to wallow in self pity and take up any invitation given as excuse to get out of the house, in the area from which i cannot wait to move. and regardless of what it's to or who it's with, i accept nearly every one of them.

i've recently found that those who claim that saying "no" is even remotely difficult has not experienced the genuine desire to actually say it. take habits, for example: they somehow become engrained into your routine and are performed almost automatically if you don't consciously avoid it. this however, can be solved simply by saying "no". some people claim to have difficulty saving money, whenall they have to do is say "no" to buying unnecessary things like magazines, starbucks, or other luxuries that add up to becoming ironically close to the amount you would have needed to reach your goal. what you need to do is find the right motivation.

i am one of those people who might be classified as someone who is "negatively motivated", meaning i am motivated by what isn't going right. in sports, a missed shot or serve, a bad time, bad defense, all remind me that mistakes like those mean that i'm only going harder the next chance i get. i need tangible losses in close sight to remind me why i'm doing something. it's not about what i'm getting out of it, but what i am refusing to lose. and after i graduate, i will refuse to be stripped of my independence by doing nothing with my degree and being thrown behind a barista counter while i commute in the family car back to my parents' house while i tell everyone i know i'm "just getting back on my feet while i look for a real career".
hell no. when i'm leaving this place, i'm gone.

one thing that is fortunate for me, i'm naturally a people-pleaser; therefore the concept of someone holding me accountable is usually a pretty safe plan for motivation [as well as pointing out the potential losses]. although bets, i've discovered are a sure plan to stop anything- especially if you can't afford to lose. but that goes back to whether or not you truly want to say "no". ask a frugal person to call you out on stupid purchases, an anorexic bitch to make sure you're hungry when you swoop in for the family size box of macaroni and cheese for a midnight snack. exactly.

the river.

2008-08-26T01:08:00.000-07:00

graffiti covered walls and men sleeping up against them, blind to the constant movement outside their haven. hitmen meet their targets, dealers find their addicts- it's all the same. we blissfully lather in the life we've been handed, whether from pre-adolescent versions of ourselves to what we have unfortunately become now, or from the first of the chain of events to the pathetic figure holding himself in the middle of the floor because of the last.

we learn to adapt.

the current presses hard against our bodies and as much as we beg and plead we cannot move. restless in the unchanging state of "uncontrollable", we wait our turn to be carried away. for some, that place is a deafening roar of imperfections, stress, and consequences. mine is silence. i do not wonder how i got here. it's not a matter of why God did this to me. i am not searching for someone to blame. i simply wait to move.

to know yourself provides the definite impossibility to excuse yourself.

the couldesack.

2008-08-21T01:42:00.000-07:00

control is an easy thing to assume you have, until what you thought you had control over is suddenly ripped away from you. what's worse is wanting something you could potentially have control over, but know you shoudn't.

self control is something i was not blessed with the ability to willfully practice. i am naturally a very laid back, go-with-the-flow type of person, who see something she likes and goes for it. another thing i have come to the conclusion i fail at constantly is filtering these things; what will be good for me and what won't. it might as well be the equivalent to a shiny knife with no handle, that taunts you with the full knowledge that if you pick it up, there will be consequences. but how can you say no? it's so pretty. demented analogy, i know. but it happens to be the story of my life.

more specifically, my shiny objects of desire only lead to the same cyclical road each time. i know that once i pick it up, i can take the initial cut by simply outweighing the pain with the pleasure that i have obtained what i wanted. i carry it around with me, holding it more tightly each time around, until i happen to notice it's so tainted that it's not even pretty anymore. frustration sets in that it's not the object that i know is so pretty; i mean, i've seen it. i know for a fact that i have every reason to keep holding onto it because i know it's something i want. finally, after much convincing i set it down and convince myself it's not worth it; the pain now outweighs the desire. for now.

if only the cycle ended. without another shiny item to focus on, every time i come around and pass it, i see it and remember that at one time, it was mine. even if it wasn't, i got to hold it. it's like an addiction. and the knife, it's just sitting there, doing it's thing. nothing's really changed except your perspective of it, right? why not pick it up again, just because it's been a while since i've gotten to hold it- since it's been mine for the moment. the blood lost goes unnoticed. i mean, i still have alot to invest in the next shiny thing.

like everything that i seem to invest in that goes unreciprocated, the satisfaction of simply holding it, begins to fade after losing that much blood and going around and around. pretty soon, i have nothing left to give. it will take ages to replenish what i've lost, and i will sit and wait until i have the strength to once again reach out and succomb to the taunting once again.

and so it begins.

a drop of cocaine.

2008-08-19T03:10:00.000-07:00

it's a solemn hallway to walk down alone. the echo of each step i take reverberates back to me to break the silence. i begged you to stop before it was too late, but my words were the same as countless others before me, and they were all the same to you.

the sun glares off of the sleek, cemented floor through the dirty window at the end of the hallway. each metal door remains untouched, isolated from even light itself. i come to the last door and peer through the smeared box of glass toward the top, dreading what i know is on the other side. in a hospital gown the same color as the wadded sheets, i see you hold yourself with your head on your knees. tears stream down my face as i hold back everything inside of me from spilling out. if only i had known what to say that would have triggered something that nothing else seemed to reach. the pleas and threats of what you would become only provoked you more, and all of the i love you's were never heard. what could i have possibly said? i know all i can do is love you and hope you come out clean. the torture i see in your vacant stare each time your body trembles melts any bitterness that each echoed step had built up, and i want nothing more than to hold you and let you know you're not worthless. you'll know what you'll be when you grow up, soon. everything will soon be back as it was 8 years ago, sitting on the dock, fighting over who could push who in.

my body jerks into a sitting position, my breathing frantic. i'm alone in my room, still holding my phone open to your text saying, "i relapsed a couple times, but i'm be fine now."

i hope you are.

a single chord progression.

2008-07-26T02:26:00.000-07:00

because a keyboard isn't enough, my fingers long for a piano to pound out the melody of the unrelenting thoughts racing through my mind. it's as if the same question breeds different answers, all of which my mind entertains as sufficient for the time being. how quickly it becomes unsatisfied.

d minor would be nice. it's a sophisticated, but sincere chord that resonates through any other, in my opinion. it's not that i'm questioning my happiness, it's more the source. so temporary, so terrifyingly bold that due to my nature i have no choice but to take it as factual. i am what i am, and have come to accept that i become a mirror to the face of both expectation and idealistics. my life should be played to a song in d minor with a bass heavy beat.

it's easy to go through the motions that were predestined for you; to either ride along the set list of accomplishments you were clearly meant to fulfill, or to weave in an out of it to keep things exciting. that's what i've concluded. it's like the movie talledega nights, where the father can't help but ruin something that's going well. people get too set on their expectations, growing pleased with themselves that they have bred a winner. perhaps i'm just a spiteful person who just says 'well watch this', and completely overturns the situation, or maybe i always intended on taking that path. both can be questioned with good reason.

it's not that i don't know myself. i just don't have myself as 'down pat' as i did 2 years ago. i could tell you what exactly i was feeling and why, claiming adamently that the statement, 'i don't know' as complete bullshit. now, i find myself too far beyond knowing that i clammer to reach 'i don't know'. there are too many possibilities when you feel. is it healthier to feel? i'm not sure, but it's more painful, definitely. when i'm not really sure what i feel, beyond the fact that i'm feeling in general? pure agony.

i'll eventually have the whole song. right now all i can do is perfect this scale, to make it harmonious to the rhythm to which i walk, fall, and run. til i've run out of distractions, d minor will eminate from within.

empty streets.

2008-07-17T12:32:00.001-07:00

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen the sunrise. Since May, actually. Now I sit on my porch, writing. I haven’t fallen asleep, although I’ve been trying since 3:00am. Cars on their way to work speed loudly on the main street in front of me, and I have lost myself once again. I don’t really know what to think about anymore, so I automatically resort to this- my outlet. It’s the only way I can get out exactly how I am feeling. I’m confused, broke, numb and utterly alone.

So much has happened in the last couple of weeks and I don’t know how to react to them. I moved into a place that doesn’t feel like home yet; and the support I once felt was so strong has dwindled into nothing. I don’t pity myself, not at all. I know I’ve gotten myself into everything that has happened and was fully aware going into it that the outcome wouldn’t be without consequence, but I definitely underestimated them.

I miss how things used to be, so smooth and fluid. I had a routine, a groove that I had down to a science. Wake up early, go through the motions of the day unaffected, then come home to friends and forget about it all over a cigarette and too many laughs to account for. Thinking about how different things could be after this, I am nothing short of terrified. I’ve slid by too many times it seems for yet another break, and yet I didn’t learn from them. I can be too stubborn for my own good, not just sometimes, but most of the time. I’ve lost track of the things I once put at the top of my priority list. I know this is too reminiscent of my last blog, but I guess this is just its sequel.

I wish I had a piano, it just seems appropriate for the slow, rhythmic movement my thoughts have chosen to travel in. I feel like it should be in a movie, playing the background as I walk aimlessly down a dimly lit street just as the sun rises. There is no sound, just the piano and camera panning across the different angles of my path. I feel like running on and on, maybe it’s away from everything, although you can’t run away from something that’s inside you. Trying to come up with things to distract me has usually worked in the past, it’s provided some sort of direction that I know to follow- a schedule. I wish I automatically knew what to do, how to respond to the fury of the countless unresolved situations I simply don’t know how to resolve. Things will work out; they always do, even if it’s not how I had wanted. But like I said before, I will have a path no matter what. It’s almost 6:00am now, and I’m too numb to be tired.

I wish I didn’t have to rely on other people to help pull me out of this, but I will come out alive because of it. I’ve already accepted every possible outcome for my circumstances- needing to go back and live at home until I get back on my feet, re-planning out my entire future around convenience only, or simply going on as if nothing happened. That’s when I wonder, if this time I’ve learned, if yet another break has blessed me or cursed me with either arrogance or utter gratefulness that I am still here. I refuse to shy away from living in a way where I feel sorry for myself that I am where I am, but rather embrace it with every intention of making the best of whatever happens, and dealing with the consequences accordingly. Sure, they will be different, but some things have to end to begin. I will welcome every opportunity still granted to me despite what happens, and cling for dear life what I still have through it all. I don’t want now should I need to be numbed to anything, I’ve done that for too long- sitting back prettily at the third person’s coveted position rather than take on the rightful first person’s spot front and center of it all.

So here I am.

detour.

2008-07-17T01:13:00.000-07:00

all it takes is once.

i've gotten used to catching breaks ever since i was in high school; getting away with more than i should have, in turn never really learning. i was exempt from the consequences and therefore never faced with a real problem i couldn't get myself out of or shrug off as not a big deal. sure, i've had regrets- you're full of shit if you say you don't. yea, you might not be dwelling on them but that doesn't mean they don't or can't exist.

it's been awhile since i've had an experience where i've had to completely reevaluate my future and how my decisions determine the direction it goes. it's always been "wait it out, it'll pass", or i had an innate response that seemed to work, even if i was only dealing with it temporarily. but as i grow older, my choices carry more weight, the consequences either more harsh or rewarding, and less cushion to support the fall. it's not that i havent taken responsibility for my own actions before, my parents made sure that was instilled in my at a young age. but over the years i became a master of avoiding consequences- the wrap, i guess you could say, for the stupid shit. put enough guards up, you won't even feel it even if they do come. either or, experiencing the outcome hasn't been a priority.

it's funny, people who think of themselves as strong and completely put together, emotionally mature, nice and safely removed from situations that everyone around them seem to go through, how fast that fades when you get caught up in the act of feeling. sometimes being involved isn't a choice, it seems. either that or you don't see it going in that direction, and before you know it you're one of them. strength is easy when life's great. it's when you have no choice but to accept the fact that you fucked up and now need to step up and deal with it that you find yourself wondering how you got here.

relationships are funny things, you know? it's really intriguing to me how emotionally detached you can convince yourself you are, but find yourself subconsciously building expectations for the other person, only giving yourself reasons to get frustrated with them for not treating you right or meeting up to them. when things are good, they're great. then all of a sudden you realize that the scale's tilting more and more in their favor and your needs are all but satisfied.

some might understand the feeling, some won't. usually this happens when the relationship is undefined or communication just sucks. but usually, there's more expectations on one end than the other. it's not even that you necessarily want a relationship, it's the fact that they don't. i mean, why wouldn't they? you're a catch, a steal, the all around package, right? of course you are. it's worse if they know that and still stick around for the good times, getting away scot-free with every expectation fulfilled because you're trying to prove to them that you're worth the time- even if you don't know it. why not ditch them? well, that would mean they get away without giving you an explanation as to why the fact that you were available everytime they wanted to hang out, always answered the phone and texted back within 30 seconds. plus you actually like spending time with them- when it happens.

i'm the kind of girl who doesn't like to be pushy, not force my company on anyone or demand explanations as to why someone feels the way they do- especially if nothing's official. who wants to be the needy girl, or wants a needy girl? i always wanted to be one of the guys, really chill, laid back and low-maintenance. but i'm a quality time person. i like affirmation, knowing what the other person's thinking. cutting things off without getting closure is something i've never found easy. what's worse, feeling like if you cut things off, the other person's routine really isn't affected. they're not left just having to think about you, because who knows if they did before, and they can go about life as usual. when you slip in too deep is when saying no gets harder.

that's when exemption flies out the window. you find yourself sliding farther away from your plan- the path you always envisioned taking once you accomplished your goals. it's the little things that you once got away with that now prohibit you from moving forward, whether literally or emotionally. you've reached a fork where one road- your road- is now closed, and the other jets straight ahead, bypassing all of the things you intended to do before you went there. such is life, and now, you can no longer avoid the detours.

broken.

2008-04-24T00:10:00.001-07:00

For the first time in months, my emotions broke past the barrier I had worked so religiously to orchestrate around the calluses from my past. You would never know, because I have been dead to you for about two years now. It’s been easy on you because you had people who you knew wouldn’t fail you or hurt you the way I did. I didn’t know every time you would see me that you were trying your hardest to fight the screams urging to pour out, questions I couldn’t answer and actions I still can’t justify. There’s a point where someone can truly lose every ounce of respect and tolerance for, and I’m not proud when I say I’ve conquered that quest already. Don’t worry, you’re not the only one I’ve hurt throughout all this, countless relationships are forever lost because of the stubbornness and selfishness of one person. I have failed so many people and failed as a sister, daughter, friend, that it shows in my reflection when I stare into the mirror. The very freedom I craved then I would trade for bondage if that meant forgiveness and a chance to mend those relationships. You will hate me for a while, perhaps forever. You will mask it and pretend things are simply fine while proceeding to slam the door behind you in rage, but still you will insist there’s nothing wrong and you’re over it.

I sat alone outside for hours and cried helplessly as hard as my body would let me, utterly and completely helpless. And who was the one who made things the way they were- still are? The same one who pleads “helpless”, when in reality I was in full control when I made the decisions that I did. Sorry, no excuses or assuming the self-pity outtake. And to think that I was someone who always wondered why she was abandoned in friendships, why every time I became close to someone they grew tired of me and so unbelievably hurt me in ways I couldn’t imagine putting someone I cared about through. It was fun convincing myself that was true while it lasted. But reality is here now and I can’t play that card anymore. One of my biggest fears became that reality- failure. I can’t even blame this one of Satan either, regardless of his obvious stronghold on my life at the moment, for I put myself, and for the most part intentionally, into these situations. I took pride in the stupidest things and turned them into my identity- my “strength”, which turned out to be oblivion, my “unconditional love” which turned out screwing me over in ways I can never be healed from, and my ability to “not let emotion overrule logic”, which proved to me that I have a really twisted sense of logic that I should really consider abandoning this split second.

I have hurt the people that I love most in this world in order to uphold these fine attributes, and it earned me a solid two years of my life of more pain than I would ever want anyone else to experience. Loneliness is hard, neglect and abandonment is even harder, I know that… but healing and forgiveness, now those are hardest of all because they are those abstract emotions and feelings that one must accept.

amidst the winter of friendship.

2008-04-24T00:09:00.001-07:00

As I trudge up the hill, towards the place our paths would merge,
the frigid gusts of wind freeze my tears halfway down my face.
I bury it deep inside my scarf for want of escape, as
my eyes tightly shut, I continued to climb despite each opposing urge .

To my left is the lake, partly frozen over and glistening in the sun.
while I am unable to stop and breathe,
to take in the splendor of snow-covered tree skeletons which surround me,
each gaze tempting me to cease my trek, instead I run.

Silence is all I hear except for the leaves dead under my feet,
their crunching accentuated by their coat of frost.
The beauty surrounding me is tarnished with reluctance as
I hasten my pace even more, a feeble attempt to abandon ideas of retreat.

My fingers graze the photograph in my pocket, slowly curling to a close.
What I would give for things to be how they were,
back when there was meaning behind conversation,
instead of this vacancy I’ve grown to not oppose.

It’s only a memory now, nothing more than a dream, I doubt
seeing me now will cure the isolation she has accepted as normal,
our friendship arouses neither regret nor a longing for the past.
I was in no hurry to be reminded only her body would be waiting for me, her mind and spirit without.

a child's cry.

2008-04-24T00:07:00.000-07:00

Saturday, August 4, 2007

This has to be, what, my 5th? 6th year at Go-Camp? I have been touched and man-handled by Jesus every time. However, none can possibly compare to the past two days. All week I have been praying earnestly for brokenness; for deliverance from my past mistakes and relationships and self-inflicted guilt and shame, because I know without a doubt that I cannot be healed from that past unless the walls which I so diligently built up have been mercilessly torn down.
I began the week, this year as staff rather than a camper, focused solely on setting an example to the younger kids which surrounded me- mostly in worship. I looked around me, observing some of the other staff far ahead of me in my spiritual walk and praising God with such animation, and naturally did the same. Too bad I didn’t know any of the songs and felt like an idiot the whole time rather than focusing on the words that were coming out of my mouth and what they meant. I was too busy making sure my harmony was on, that I was sucking in my stomach and swaying back and forth on beat. It wasn’t until half way through the week that I realized that this is not how I worship. I am not this animated person who dances, who sings at the top of their lungs. I can’t sing! My worship is looking around me and God breaking my heart for the people- His children- that I see hurting and longing for the same fullness of the Spirit that I do. Prayers surge out of my mouth and tears stream down my face and I beg in desperation for God to acknowledge and bless His kids as they throw themselves at His feet. He meets us as we are, in all our filth and grubbiness.
As Friday rolls around, I get a text message from Whitney saying that we lost our house, the one I was supposed to be moving into the week after Go-Camp, because Danna backed out of the deal. Anger is aroused and the landlord rips me apart when I call for more clarification. I notice bumps in places they shouldn’t be, as I try and prepare myself for the reality that I might have something which will stay with me for the rest of my life, making my housing situation seem miniscule.
Today was our carnival, the outreach we have been practicing for all week and finally are able to perform and minister to people who live right next to the church. We went to Manitou Park. A little after dinner, I found a quiet sunny spot on the grass and just lay down for a couple minutes, and prayed. I prayed for peace, for strength to find joy in my trials and rejoice in my weaknesses and tribulations. Pastor Lance leaned over as I opened my eyes for a second, and simply asked if I was ok. I assured him yes.
The swings seemed to be my main attraction. As the rest of the camp began to tear down the carnival we had been running since 2pm, I took little Rebecca to the kiddy swings and the second I set her in that swing, a little girl who would change my life ran up from out f nowhere, and with a beaming smile, asked for ‘up’ and lifted her arms as I picked her up and set her in the swing right next to Rebecca, and began to push.
First, please let me tell you of my love for children. Children are the one group of people- little people, in their case- who can make a heart such as mine that has been calloused and hardened for ages completely melt in an instant. I have a list of my top ten favorite things: conversation being number one, laughing being second, and children being third. I won’t go into the other seven, but trust me, they’re good. Children were always drawn to me too, latching themselves onto me, claiming me as their best friend. Yasmeen, for example, is my five year old best friend. She is my old assistant basketball coach’s daughter and well, very possessive. She calls me, leaves me voicemails, everything. And I could not ask for a more loyal best friend.
Kayvon and I talked about a lot of things as she swung. She was a smart and absolutely gorgeous 3 year old, who looked exactly like Yasmeen, and her name was Kayvon. Kayvon loved to swing. She always insisted on ‘higher, higher’ as she laughed. The ice cream truck served as a main topic of conversation for a while and she strained to try and see it at each high point of her back-and-forth motion, screaming for joy if she could spot the bright yellow speaker atop a similarly colored roof. We expressed a common love for Spongebob ice cream, and decided that if we both had had any money, that is what we would get. Music started behind me, as the worship team was getting ready to start the second session, and she insisted upon dancing, the only thing that could have possibly gotten her out of that swing. Like I said, the girl loved to swing.
We walked hand in hand over to the little patch of pavement where the worship team was set up and as the music started, we began to, naturally, get our groove on. She mimicked my every move. She clapped when I did, and wherever I clapped. We must have gone through the whole ‘head, shoulders knees and toes’ motions over and over again. She grabbed both of my hand as we danced in a circle of two. Ethan kinda scooted over, returning my smile [which, by the way, hadn’t left my face since I had met her] and asked where she came from. Over there, I rolled my head in the direction of the swings and the playground. He looked around, watching for a searching parent or guardian and, confused, asked me again. This time I stopped dancing, realizing that I hadn’t seen her with anyone really. I led her back over to the playground, asking her who she was here with and where they were. Gramma brought her, with Auntie Denise and her brother Keanon- he was big, she said.
We began to walk around the perimeter of the park, as she made comments which truly disturbed me, comments saying that oh man, she had been left again. I was sure the black woman in the front row was her gramma and Kayvon just must have not seen her. I had seen the woman sitting right by the swing set as I had pushed her before, she even commented in on part of Kayvon’s and my conversation. But the woman denied any relation to my new little friend. This confirmed the sick feeling that was starting to well up in the pit of my stomach.
I set her back in the swings as I told Liane that Kayvon didn’t know where her gramma went. She and Warren watched Kayvon as I went to go do my dance, although I never took my eyes off of Kayvon the whole time. I went immediately back to her after the dance was finished, as she ran to me after being surrounded by strangers for a good 5 minutes. Liane had called the police and said they were on their way. I began to pray. Hard.
People began to surround the little “lost” girl, asking her questions and crowding around us. Her eyes got bigger and stared only at me. I asked for people to clear out, that Kayvon was getting scared. I saw a police car pull up and Liane motioned for me to bring her over as she gave the officer the information I had told her. Her full name was Kayvon Katherine McField, age 3, turning 4 in September. She didn’t know her preschool’s name but her teacher was Miss Tanya. Mommy had broken her leg, when I asked how, she told me flatly that she ran into a car. Turns out that Mommy had been crossing Tacoma Avenue the night before at 11pm with Kayvon in the stroller to get her fix of heroin when she was hit by a car, missing Kayvon by only inches. Custody was transferred to her gramma that night. Only 14 hours later, Gramma didn’t realize she was missing.
When we finally coaxed her out of the swing, Kayvon clung to my neck after hitting her mouth on one of the chain links. Warren came over to take her to the officer and she screamed, her little hands grasping tighter to my shirt and burying her face in my shoulder. I held her for what felt like hours, I don’t know how long it really was. Teresa Atkins brought over some graham crackers for Kayvon to eat. She’d been by herself for hours and was starving. Teresa touched my arm and asked if I was ok. I thought I was. Moms surrounded me, watching this little girl cling to me amidst a whirlwind of confusion, ignorance and fear. I gave the officer my contact information in case CPS were to do an investigation, as vans came to take campers and staff back to PSCC. Eventually, Liane and I stood alone with the officer, the rest of the park deserted except for a few people tearing down amps and sounds equipment, and I gently- as well as reluctantly- handed Kayvon over to the officer to go in the front seat, heading back to Gramma’s. Well, Gramma’s was the last place I wanted that child to be. A 77 year old woman who had just left her in a park where we had found 100 sex offenders lived by did not, by any means, sound like a plan to me. I wanted that girl to never leave my arms again, much less go straight into those of a woman. He said he was going to see the reaction and sense the ‘alarm factor’ when he showed up on her doorstep. Alarm factor? She had enough time between the phone call letting her know he was coming and the time he got there to build up the sufficient ‘alarm’ necessary to be convincing! My heart was breaking for this little girl, so desensitized from the situation that had happened to her less than 24 hours before that she was willing to take love in any form it would come, even if it meant some random chick wearing a seemingly common t-shirt in the park that was willing to push her on the swings.
As Liane and I walked back to the car, she asked me how I was doing and set her hand gently on my back. Tears poured down my face upon contact, as I said anything, they can do anything to anyone, but NOT children. That was the one thing that I cannot tolerate. My heart continued to break, and not only for her, but for God’s children. Just the suffering and wrongs that must be endured that not did they not deserve, but weren’t even self-inflicted. For as long as I can remember, every hardship that I have ever gone through I believed to be self-inflicted- a result of a situation that I had gotten myself into either by choice or due to failure to do the right thing. but this child, this innocent and beautiful little girl who had just been taken from me to be sent back into the hands of someone- and I can say that yes, it could have been anyone’s accident leaving a child somewhere due to miscommunication, but when the stakes were so high is when I get a little flustered. Kids are my soft spot. End of story. And this one just so happen to have had enough time to make a big enough impact to where I saw myself in her. There she had been, wandering aimlessly around in search of some form of love in the midst of extreme danger, completely numb to the complete horrors she witnessed to those who were supposed to play that role in her life, when she has no choice but to succumb to the love of someone who sees her for what she is truly worth.
I can honestly say that if given the chance, I would have taken Kayvon home with me and kept her as my own, showing her what it is liked to be loved for what she is. Her mom, while she’s shooting up in the bedroom while her gorgeous daughter plays alone in front of the TV, has no idea of the beauty and intelligence that she is missing out on. She has absolutely no clue that the child she may see as a burden and a cut from her heroin savings to buy food for, is really an actual human being who is desperate for love.
I will continue to pray for Kayvon Katherine McField. I pray that no matter where she is or who she is with that she will always be reminded and assured that Someone loves her and has His hand on her life, keeping her protected from those who dare to refute the fact that her life is precious, that the daughter of a woman who hurts so much that she needs to remove herself mentally and emotionally from situations that she cannot herself take responsibility for would always be a precious child of God.
I don’t know that I’ll ever see Kayvon again, or if she’ll remember who I am or that Saturday even ever happened. But as Liane and I prayed over that little girl, we planted a seed in her that can only grow, and that I firmly believe will grow, and flourish too. My heart will continue to break for the children of God. This week I was reminded of two different passages which mean a whole lot more to me than they did before. The first is 2 Corinthians 12:7-10.
And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelation, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of satan to buffet me lest I be exalted above measure. Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He said to me “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in your weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast of my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in my infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, He is strong.
The second in 1 Peter 5:10.
But may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered for a while, perfect, establish, strengthen and settle you.
I learn to rejoice in my sufferings, because while not only does it strengthen me, is strengthens my testimony, allowing me to relate and minister- even if they don’t know it- to a wider variety of people. This week ends an extremely long spiritual dry spell for me, and begins an ongoing cycle of being completely submerged in the love of God, forcing myself to be dunked continuously underneath the surface of my flesh and in search of something deeper. For there is no greater gift than love, nor a greater weapon to fight a loveless world with.

even flow.

2008-04-24T00:03:00.002-07:00

We lay our bodies flat against the concrete floor of the cathedral in the middle of complete silence. Above me loomed old chandeliers and wooden slats that have been there for centuries, crossing over each other amidst the towering white columns, cracking in their old age and bearing the sounds of harmonious voices and countless stories told.

Then they started singing. My eyelids fell as I lay there, and a peace overwhelmed me that had been absent for too long. I’d been avoiding it, for reasons that I wanted to forget- or even dismiss for fear that the moment would pass before I had the chance to fully take it in. The only sounds were of people shuffling in, finding their spots on the same cold ground on which I no longer felt. Now was not the time to become emotional.

In the dim light, my mind began to churn. It’s what happens whenever I lay down, really. My body is finally able to rest from its constant movement and strains as my mental state transitions from its robotic routine that I have somehow forced it to habitually take on, to processing the things it wasn’t allowed to break and focus on before.

As their voices rose, they filled every crack and crevice of the cathedral, as well as my entire body. But they could not penetrate my mind. The peace my body felt, my mind blocked out as if it were the last time I would let it think. I had so carefully trained it to be selective and guarded, and now the one thing I longed for the most, I couldn’t bring myself to let in.

The harmonies and synchronized power of their words flowed throughout my head, yet I did not hear them. I felt the presence, yes, but I had worked too hard to avoid my emotions to let prayer through song penetrate the wall that stood strong- no, unbreakable- to crumble in the span of thirty minutes. Over what? Pent up thoughts and feelings from my past that I had already dealt with? My strength was what kept me going, what allowed me to live the way I so adamantly chose to live and to be the person I had become. Not now, not after this long.

I took a deep breath in as my mind tried to switch from compartmentalized to an expansive state. Old habits die hard, unfortunately, and I brought myself back to the present. The friendships I’d made and helped to grow into what they had become came to mind. My want to be there for them, to love and to invest in their lives firmly tugged on my heart. It is something I will always strive for, succeed and fail to do. It’s a strange concept to think that my heart can hurt so deeply for the people I care so dearly about, yet for myself I couldn’t scratch the surface even if I wanted to.

The cathedral stood over me, filling more and more with this presence- this peace that I felt all around, yet couldn’t bring myself to take in, and I slowly let the air out of my lungs. If only I had told you when I had the chance, when you were still here, when it wasn’t too late, that I had loved you more than any amount of words combined could express. My only wish now is that I won’t make the same mistake twice.

Training wheels. I’m back to stage one, but I’m learning once again how to be human.

farewell to you.

2008-04-24T00:03:00.001-07:00

It’s a love hate relationship. It’s the flaky boyfriend that sometimes comes through when you realize that your life suddenly lacks structure, and It seems to be the only logical souse of stability you have to hold onto. Soon dependency turns into emotion, and emotion to complete devotion to this relationship in which you are giving your all but only receive the convenience of it all.

The pain seeps deeper and deeper as you invest more into finding some way to make things work, to be on the receiving end of love and appreciation, to reciprocate some sort of fulfillment to you. After all, it’s been your goal since day one. A commitment to give your whole self until the end, stopping at nothing until it is finally recognized.

But then there comes the moment when you have your goal in sight, where it’s so close you can touch it. Nothing motivates you more to push yourself harder, better, faster, stronger- full force until it’s yours. Excitement fills every crevice of who you are, for this has become your life now. All else aside, this is it. It’s then when they begin to talk about pursuing other goals, higher priorities, a more holistically-centered goal. Your sprint remains stagnant rather than the constant acceleration it was, and the less your counterpart looks at you, the slower you are able to move despite the fact that you’re pushing harder now. Make it look at you, show it you’re still dedicated- still willing to do anything all the same.

You’re starting to become, well, a risk. Ripping at the seams, I might even go as far to say.

I’ve given this everything, sacrificed more, and it was completely invalidated. The disclaimers you give right before the “but”, doesn’t cut it anymore, and all I have left are the things I left behind. I’m not sure if I’m in it just for the sake of being in it, or because I have convinced myself that I will actually be fulfilled someday. I hate the thought of quitting, accepting that I failed. But I’ve been here before, the point where it’s a one-sided relationship and it’s working only at my expense, and I can only go so long giving everything I have to receive nothing in return.

I’ll finish this one out- this one- because I don’t quit. I’ve committed to this season of my life and am held accountable to people other than myself, people who have invested in me and who depend on me. I would never take something unfortunate that happened to me and in turn, screw other people involved before I finished my time. So here’s to a good run, crew, but I’m through being your bitch.

helvetica

2008-03-03T21:00:00.000-08:00

it was not until today that i realized that my intended career demanded me to, in a sense, change my persona- my way of going about things. i have never considered myself a very "anal" person, and yet here i am sitting in my art history class, growing progressively more annoyed at that fact that the text on my professor's slides weren't kerned correctly [letter spacing]. i found myself visualizing the words flipped upside down and just being horrified at the immense negative space between the "i" and the "l" in the word "will". completely uneven. karen, my typography professor, would have a heart attack.

in front of me lays the never-ending list of things i have yet to turn in and have yet to even complete. some have been due since the second week, some are due tomorrow. shoot me in the face. nannying once or twice a week doesn't exactly pay the phone bill, for groceries, and art supplies. with matte boards at $2.50 a piece and karen demanding needing at least 12 of them for both my typography and visual communications classes for part of my final project- not including paying for 2 of each composition to be printed, getting a 2-inch think notebook bound with all of my prelim sketches mounted on thick black construction paper, mounting a 2x3' poster on foamcore and writing a research paper on 6-8 design firms i am considering doing my internship for. i may need to start stealing from 7-11 when i end up eating meals there during 8-hour design sessions in the art center.

we watched the movie "helvetica" today in type- yes, the like font. it is literally everywhere. target, arco, american apparel, new york subway signs, adidas, sears, etc.. people rave about this font. true, it's very universal, and when you have no particular message to get across and no tone you want to convey your lack of a message with, then helvetica truly is the perfect font. but "explosion" written in helvetica does not explode, "third date" written in helvetica does not convince me that there is any chemistry to spark even the asking of the second date. it's not until you see the passion of the people before you in a certain field that it forces you to realize what you're getting yourself into.

a sonnet in the sun.

2008-02-29T14:51:00.001-08:00

the sound of cars speeding by drown out the music blaring in my ears. i wish the sun would come back.

you were so peaceful when i left you this morning. i wish i cared more for you, that i'd allow myself to feel. i have too many thoughts racing through my mind to make room for the unnecessary things in life. maybe they are necessities, but not right now.

i scribble them down as they come as i wait for the bus to get to my stop. my hair is actually down and curled, and i'm wearing your favorite skirt. i'll be late again.

i just want it to be summer again. i felt in the summer- there was nothing to think about. we can wake up together and just talk, like how it was, and you can kiss me til we've wasted the whole day away. then maybe i'll start to miss you when you leave. maybe. i still don't know how i feel about you.

i'll wait at the lake for you to call, as my feet dangle in the water, and if you don't then that's fine. i'll let the sun dace across my face as my mind will wander elsewhere. i loved you first.

my music gets louder. i'll be deaf before age thirty, probably. and you. well, you won't remember my name.

a brief intermission

2007-10-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

I saw you cry today, the pain spread across your face
I saw you smile today, trying so hard to fill the empty space.
Fearing the end with all you are, holding back what you have to give
Let it go, release the hurt and pain so that you may live.
It has to end to begin.

Love for loveless and hope for the hopeless, your false strength is running dry
It hurts to let go, no matter how many times you don’t let yourself cry.
It’s holding back that gets you, it has failed you every time.
You’ve begged for your freedom so many times; well, your troubles are just like mine.
And it has to end to begin.

You forget that love is not measured how it is given, but how it is embraced.
And still you hold back as to not get hurt, keeping what little you have- just in case.
I know you think that no one cares, and I know it’s constantly on your mind.
Your heart is crying out for love, and seemingly no one has the time.
Well, because I saw you smile today and you finally let me in,
So begins the infamous ‘healing process’, because as you know- it has to end to begin.

a little self-evaluation: aka word vomit

2007-09-24T23:45:00.000-07:00

it's weird, i'm sitting here watching sex and the city and the only thing i can manage to think about is the emotional wreck that has defined my friendships. i find myself wanting, longing so much for these beautiful friendships to devote myself to and to just pour into, and yet i somehow come up short. i dont know if it's me, questioning myself to no end and becoming the person who i feel is needed, who fulfills the certain need of whatever friend needs me at the time.
is it me? or is it just what happens to people like me? i guess i consider myself a loyal person, pretty mindful of the people around me with a passion for nothing more than to just be that person to depend on. i love conversation. i love just talking and spending time with people, it's my love language. yet i still manage to find the friends which fulfill my want for conversation and time who only fall in the 'fair-weather friend' category. yes, i have fallen in that category before. who hasn't? but i'd like to think that loyalty will eventaully take over and i'll be there for my friends when they need me. maybe that's the problem, i can be the person who loves being there when people need them. i hate it, why is it that we get into these mindsets that unless someone expresses a dire need for a friend that tht is when we step in? friendship is a consistent relationship, one that is necessary at all times. it's the little things that friends fulfill for each other; stopping by on their way to class just to say hey, calling when they're bored and thought of you, making time to hang out and invest time and energy into them, and just paying attention. at least these are the things i notice. back to the whole understanding topic, that is what i truly value in a friendship.
so why is it that while i seem to be so good at critiquing and reasoning the strange behavior of the friends i seem to attract, i cannot seem to understand my own cycle of this attraction. yes it's tedious and frustrating and hurtful, but it's consistently reoccurring. WHY. that is what gets me. is it because i have been exposed or possibly been practicing this kind of behavior for so long, or simply the way i am or have become? usually i know myself, the way i am and why, but now this feeling of being unsure is kind of unsettling. to be suddenly jolted so hard that i question myself is a new phenomenon. maybe it is me, maybe i never knew myself and my idea of logic was completely off. that will be yet something else to get used to, and i'm not sure how i feel about it. change is usually something i'm open-minded to, something i can adjust to pretty smoothly. but to have my whole world asolutely shaken? yea.. about that.

the art of understanding.

2007-08-20T02:17:00.001-07:00

It’s really interesting, I’ve always thought, how people live multiple lives. Don’t worry, I’m not criticizing, I do it too. But think about it- the person you are when you’re around family, when you’re around the friends that are outspoken and fun to be around, and the friends who you’re supposed to set an example for. I’ve always wondered which one I am, and why I can’t be that person no matter who I’m around. Is it because I can’t be the girl who struggles when I am with the people who look to me for answers or as a role model? I find myself knowing definite aspects about the person I am, but when I am with certain people those qualities are often sheltered as to not cause a conflict of personality. However, does that mean I have contradicting aspects in my personality? Call it petty or insignificant, but it’s one of those things that really make me wonder.

I have always been over-analytical. I over-analyze myself to the point where I know my faults, the reason why I do things- stupid and smart- and as a result I have come to understand why other people do the things they do. See, there is a difference between actually understanding something, and being understanding. The ones who are understanding are the infamous friends you go to and pour your heart out to, desperately seeking some type of affirmation or confirmation to their reaction to the situation, and reply by nodding their heads and seemingly identifying with whatever your dilemma may be. But once you think about it though, you realize that there actually is no way they truly can understand what your situation entails- the emotions your feeling, or the extent at which you are feeling them. Understanding, on the other hand, is obtained through experience and experience alone of a circumstance in which there is some common ground to that of which claim to understand. “Being understanding” scratches the surface; while understanding digs deeper.

I do not think I know everything, nor do I claim to understand and be able to identify with every situation that comes to me. Sometimes, all I can do is be understanding. It is when people attempt and claim to actually understand that gets me heated. No, you have never experienced this; therefore, you should not be telling me how to handle it. A person grows from their trials and must learn to pick themselves up by suffering through it, and sometimes alone.

Back to my self-analysis: it comes down to me being a spectator in my own life, basically. I watch the situations as they happen to me, but remove myself from the first person for the pure reason that emotion doesn’t get in the way of how I react to it. This is where the contradicting aspects of my personality come in. Naturally, no one wants to be exposed or vulnerable to hurt or pain, which is where walls come in rather handy. However, so much of me longs to be broken, willing to take the hurt and pain so I can actually embrace emotion and the feeling that comes with growing as a person. I want to lead, set an example, be a role model, but how can I be if I do not understand the pain that this person is experiencing, but I- having experienced the same thing- blocked out? It’s almost like you have to choose by process of elimination the person that you become. There rarely is anyone to guide you who knows you well enough, and can convince you beyond wanting to know it for yourself, to know what decisions should be made at what point in your life, and yet still allow you to be molded into who you could [ideally] be. It’s time to suck it up and understand- not be understanding of the fact- that this is your life; no matter how many you feel like you may be living or in front of how many different crowds you’re living them, you’re responsible for each one. Spectator or not.

everything is illuminated

2007-08-16T21:40:00.000-07:00

As I sit against my railing, I am reminded simply by looking up why I live here. The ground gives way right in front of me, sloping down the steep drop coated with tall, thin-stemmed dandelions amidst a forest of weeds. It falls into a sandy parking lot, loitered with old pickup trucks, Volkswagon Jettas and a run-down motorcycle that leans against someone else’s railing, bent and misshapen as it is. From there, it appears to run into the traffic mayhem of 15th Ave; but that is only because I cannot see what lies against the next drop off.

Cars speed back and forth across the picture plain that is my view, running into the trees which comprise the frame. Their noise is all the same, increasing and fading as they come and go. As the sun peaks through any break it can find in the dark gray clouds, it radiates through the veins of leaves waving back and forth in the slight breeze. Everything is illuminated.

Across 15th, telephone poles strung with electric wires drooping in between lead my gaze up to the tree-covered hilltop. To the left of them is the driving range, with its poles and netting separating the haven within from the constant movement of the city outside. As I look the right, a soccer field is spread out before me, accompanied by the whistles and sounds of screaming and cheering. Both are aimless, while the wires in between still point straight on. They cross the perpendicular tracks of the train whose whistle I fall asleep to every night, and run overtop the many different styles of houses and condominiums that remind me a city has no boundaries, forcing their presence into the trees’ domain.

As it nears sundown, it gets surprisingly brighter, and the sunlight bounces off the tops of cars parked up and down a street leading to the top of the mountain, itself serving as the top of my picture plain. With my arms outstretched, index fingers and thumbs forming a less abstract frame, I can’t help but smile.
The combinations of seagulls screaming at each other, the conversations of neighbors I have yet to meet- probably never will, car alarms and jazz music makes up the soundtrack which accents my picture. The rich scent of clove cigarettes mixed with coffee comes in waves as I sit against my railing, and even as I close my eyes against the sudden breeze, I can still feel the city.

As I walk back to my apartment, I am surrounded by flowers pouring over the side of balconies and overhanging trees that I like to call “canopy trees”, simply because I don’t know what kind of trees they really are. Someone is throwing a dinner party across the street, and their laughter fills my apartment. I sit by myself at the kitchen table except for the single rose in a glass vase and my laptop. Such a city girl. I play my own jazz music as I sit in front of a blank sketchbook. A cool breeze seeps in through the tattered screen, bringing with it a symphony of tires scraping the gravel, which mixes perfectly with the tempo of the piano.

I love this city; the smell, the lights, and the constant rush of eclectic people and environment-hating cars. No matter where I am, inside or out, it seems to always follow me. All the lights inside are off, yet the small dots of city lights still manage to provide enough to brighten the room. Everything is illuminated, and all I feel I can do is relax, perfectly content.

so this is what it feels like

2007-08-15T23:08:00.000-07:00

So this is what it feels like to come down from a high. Not just any high, but a spiritual high. I went to this camp, where it was so amazing and life-changing and I was just so happy, and now I am just struck with such loneliness and abandonment that it has pretty much deteriorated that high.
Friendship is a bipolar concept. Too bad it’s one of the things that I feel my life depends upon to survive and not go into depression mode. I am a philosophical person; always thinking, always evaluating, always observing and taking note. My depth is killing me. It forces me to put so much weight on everything, and while I’ve gotten pretty good at blocking the pain that usual circumstances bring, the friendships I cherish never fail to go deeper than that wall. Go figure.
People will be there at inopportune times to pick you up when you need it, patiently being there for words of affirmation and as your rock to lean on as you pick yourself back up. They become your idea of a constant source of comfort. However, it has been in my experience that a constant only remains constant so long; and the deeper the friendship is, the more likely- and quickly- that consistency will disappear.
I prayed to be broken so that I could be healed, not annihilated. The brokenness was supposed to happen to the wall around what was already broken- not to what has been already broken completely.
So this is my attack, the one that always tends to happen when coming down, or what brings you down. You slip into old routines, become the person that everyone knew you to be, and get hit harder than when you weren’t as conscious about it. Of course.
I don’t want to be broken anymore, and I have two choices. I can either build up the wall that has led me to my downfall in the first place, or I can opt to be ripped to shreds in hopes I will eventually be healed. Sweet deal, just what I need.

oh, one of my internal battles...

2007-08-15T21:43:00.000-07:00

Why is it that I, someone who is somehow viewed as a leader among the majority of my groups of friends as well as on my floor, do not possess the qualities that I as a person would look for in a leader? To say that my time management skills are lacking would be an understatement, my emotions have abandoned me- no, more like I have banished them, and I am constantly contradicting myself and everything I have worked to become.
Why is it? If I am this leader then why are my friends more unpredictable than Seattle weather? I always envisioned a leader and someone who attracts people, has this magnetic personality and willingness to- to, I don’t even know, but do something meaningful. I don’t expect to not have problems, I really don’t, but I am tired of being this leader and not reaping the benefits from it.
It’s been a while since I’ve talked to God, a while since I’ve been willing to surrender so much as an exam or quiz to Him. I’m stubborn, probably just for stubbornness’ sake, because I know I can’t outwait God. Hell, He waited for millennia for me to even get here, much less deal with me. So what am I proving to myself, this whole trying to outwait God? Is stubbornness a quality of a leader? I give up. I’m so exhausted, mentally and physically. I’m tired of being logical and analytical, and more than anything I’m tired of being let down, which caused me to even get here. And now, I don’t care, I’m going to bed.

There is nothing I despise more than a fair weather friend. Nothing. They are those who hear through the grapevine that something happened in your life or that you’re pissed off, and suddenly they run into you, exclaiming that it’s been a while and that you absolutely need to hang out soon and catch up. No, actually, you just want the satisfaction of being there when you’re needed, unbeknownst to you that that is a full time commitment. Oh wait, you already have your set group of friends, the ones you vent to me about being flaky or hurtful, never around. Wake up. You have no clue what you’re doing to me. Because while there is nothing I despise more than a fair weather friend, there is not a lot in this physical world I value more than a friendship.
I’ve always been a pretty logical person, someone who analyzes the situation before flipping out or analyzes it by flipping out. And now it has gotten to the point where I am able to take my situations as they come, and to take them emotionally detached. Sure that may not be a very swell way to go about life, that it may come back and bite me in the ass, but let’s be honest here, chances are I won’t feel a thing.
You know, no matter how hard I convince myself I am or can be, overall, my love for people comes through. I can be completely infuriated, wanting to go off on someone, but then I see them, happy and then I hug them, and it just melts away. It’s a rough exterior and that is my means of brokenness. It sucks, but at least I know I still got it.

advice for the loveless

2007-08-15T21:41:00.000-07:00

I don’t know how many people one must form a seemingly valued relationship with that, of course, both assume to be mutual. Oh, but what easily-deceived creatures people are. Skepticism has become a primary force of defense against this popular little habit, resulting in lack of ability to trust, become vulnerable, and ultimately love. There is always that one person who one assumes to be an immune to the disease which infects the flood of individuals searching for true love; that one person who convinces you to let your guard down and trust them, making the ever-popular promise to “handle with care” your fragile and naive heart. However, it is experience which molds us and the tragic heartbreaks that, at the time seem to lead to hell, we simply put up another wall around the emotions so humiliatingly exposed by the ordeal. For months after, they consume your thoughts even more so than when you were “in love”, this time you find yourself not being able to remember the last time you genuinely smiled since then, and wondering who they have moved onto and obviously found complete happiness with, or someone as foolish as you were to toy around with for the time. You knew the whole time you should have kept the wall they sweet-talked to pieces with each false “I love you”, for they are nothing more than words to you, nothing is anymore; words as shallow as the promises they made you, and the loyalty they swore to you only. Oh, the truth in the saying “love is blind”- words which, unlike the majority, have substance and have reigned true over centuries. The fairy tale love stories seen in the movies one can only dream about, for that is all they are- fairy tales, unable to come true. The safety and security I once felt in your arms is gone, for I am unable to play with my own emotions or rip my own heart to shreds as I watch myself in torment and pain. Trust should not be a commodity given away freely upon request, but something to strive for over a period of a lifetime through not words, but undying respect of the fragility of another person, and the selflessness proven to them through unconditional love. That, is something to think about.

empty swing at manitou park

2007-08-15T21:39:00.000-07:00

it's as if you suddenly don't see me, when i'm standing right in front of you.

i can tell you're scared by the way you look me straight in the eyes, exuding all the confidence in the world.
trust me, i've been there before.

totally desensitized to the fact that the people who were supposed to be closest to you have completely abandoned you. you put up a pretty good front, too- acting like it doesn't faze you or like you're not all pulp rather than calloused.
trust me, i've been there before.

but see, there's something different about you than the average insecure, lost and pitifully searching for love. your mask consists of this forced confidence and resistance to pain.
trust me, i've been there before.

and here is what will happen next. see, eventually you will run into a situation that will hit you with such a full force, and it will finally make you search in a frenzy for the feeling you locked away so long ago. for the first time you will want to be free to let go, to be exposed in front of the people you convinced to see you as invincible. well, here you are, wanting so badly to partake in the beautiful emotion of pain because it's the only way you would ever dream of reacting, and inside your heart simply cannot justify opening the floodgates because to reason doesn't fall in the list of exceptions. it would help if there were such a list.
it's ok, pretty girl, i've been there too.

you can't see me, i know. and whether my words go in and out, you heard them once. i know no one ever showed you the love you deserve or taught you that love is not measured how it is given, but embraced. the pulp that you try and pass off as your heart has to be tired.
trust me, i've been there before.

while your heart rips to shreds, you are convinced it is growing stronger because you feel less. without nerves it would be had to feel anything, i suppose. maybe it's because the pain is drowned out by each hand clinching so tightly to the ends of metal stakes driven firmly into the solid ground. is that where you find your stability? it was where i found mine. when u slip, pretty girl, the stakes drive further into your hands. It’s crippling you, not holding you still.
trust me, i've been there before.

trust me, before you can say the same.