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Below are the 25 most recent journal entries.

	2008.11.28  11.57 happy belated Thanksgiving happy belated thanksgiving Jen's family came over for thanksgiving lunch and it wasn't as horrifying as I thought it'd be. Us stepchildren sat at the small table while Jen's family sat at the large one, everyone eating a delicious meal. Two turkeys were brought over and only one was mostly eaten. It wasn't till much later I learned there was actually a THIRD turkey that made its way over to the duplex. I never saw it. About 5 o'clock a very nice and cute guy named Nam picked me up and we went to Sully's, some Irish pub. As I believe I mentioned before--instead of my aspiring alchoholic tendencies I had when I was younger--I have much difficulty getting past the first or second drink. Nam's roommate/friend came to join us, an obnoxious yet amusing guy who said he couldn't remember my name, even after I told him he could--to my distaste--call me Cass. So, Chelsea, what brings you to Iowa? It's alright, because I couldn't remember his name, either. Was it Matt? Nickname M. J.? Michael Jackson? I always had trouble remembering names in classes, shows, and especially bars. It's been nearly six years since I used to go to Che's each night on 4th Ave. in Tucson, where I was continuely being introduced to people left and right. Names! What's the point? Usually I'd have some asshole sitting next to me blubbering about stuff I didn't care about. I'd forget what the name is the split second after the person's been introduced. It usually takes about 2 or 3 more times of meeting a person before I finally remember his/her name. I made it through a 1/10th dark guinesses (sp?) and 2 rum and cokes. And even then, Michael Jackson helped me drink those when he got impatient with the barmaid. Got back home early, about 8:30-9ish, but it was the first nice real night out I've had in awhile, in spite of my inability to drink hard. After showering, reading, and relaxing for a few hours, I turned off the light when it was starting to creep up to midnight. I tossed and turned a bit. The Drink keeps me awake sometimes, especially these days since I've become sensitive to it. I never before drank till puking, but almost always drank till I nearly passed out. How I never got a DUI or anything is beyond me. But I remember each night passing out then waking up, thirsty more than I could imagine, getting up and walking to the kitchen and blacking out before making it to the tiled floors. It always took me awhile to get a glass of water (or 2, 3, 4) but after crawling back to my room, back into bed, I'd always sleep. Now I couldn't sleep worth shit, even after my usual Tylenol PM's. Then an idea popped into my head. Christ! A friggin' GOOD idea for a book. I could write a novel based on my experience at the humane society. I sat up in my bed. It would be totally awesome. I felt after a while of learning the different cats and dogs' personalities that I figured I could guess what they were saying through their meows, barks, hisses, growls, and general body language and facial expressions. Why the hell not write a book about them, the animals? I'd use their same names and descriptions but change everyone elses' identities, including myself, and just write in 3rd person. I laid back down. Fabulous. Fabulous. I rolled through the screen in my mind the incidents I had at work that I would write about, how I would write. I kicked my feet in excitment and turned over. My memoir can wait, I think I'd rather start this book first. I turned back over, wondering if it was midnight yet. I got up in my bed, leaned forward, and squinted: it was after 2AM. .......................................... We'll see how it goes.

	2008.06.19  23.57 In the clinic. The vet came in while I stood in the hallway of the clinic, rubbing the ears of one of the dogs that chill back there day in, day out. The vet and I greeted each other and I gave her the lowdown of my morning cleaning and tending to the animals. Then, one of the clinic's cats--an orange male cat--came up to us and stood in front of my feet and gazed up at me. The vet started cooing and fussing over the cat, but the odd cat gazed up at me again and raised his paw in a heart-melting gesture. The doctor--an energetic, vibrant 50-year old woman--put her hands on her hips and demanded of me, Have you been playing with MY boyfriend? I raised both my hands and exclaimed, I swear to God, I never touched him! Which was the truth. I still don't love cats much and rarely pay attention to the ones that roam freely with the other clinic-roaming dogs. In case you haven't guessed, I got transferred into the clinic after a girl there quit and the vet asked for me, which I took as a huge compliment. It has only been a few weeks, therefore I have not yet learned how to give injections, draw blood, nor use the microscope to identify pathogens--though I'm told that I will. So far I am still adjusting to the extra manual labor, which really sucks because by the time I finish cleaning all the cages and rooms, I'm worn and usually leave work without learning anything new from the vet or from the other ladies concerning animal medicine. But I am a lot happier. Once I build up my energy and enthusiasm, I will be trained in a whole new field that I never thought possible without formal education and degrees. It will help satisfy my desire to learn and practice ( a little) in the field of medicine. And, of course, it's with animals! Dogs, especially! Fucking fantastic that I can be around dogs and get paid for it; it sort of relieves the pain of not being able to have a dog of my own right now. I'll give you a portrait of my favorite dogs (and least fave) of the clinic, 'cause, you know, I know you want to know: Angel: This poor baby died a few days ago. The doctor had to put her down bc she found a malignant mass in the poor dog's belly that took up most of her midsection. Angel was a min pin (like a miniature Doberman. I've seen photos of min pins but Angel was much chubbier. I always enjoyed stopping whenever I saw her to rub her soft body and pat her well-defined head. She was not extremely active, but would stand there with her head slightly bent while she'd be petted. Chompers: I don't know if I like this one. He's back there in the clinic because no one else wants him. He growls and bites at other people he's not associated with. He's pure white, has a real Spitz look to him, resembles a lot to an American Eskimo dog, maybe he is one--I don't know. Triangular ears that poke out of a double-coat of powder-puff, white, soft fur. The cocky bastard spends his days stealing kitty canned food from other cats, digging through trash, running off with other dogs' bones, and snarling at anyone who tries to get in his way. But the intelligent prick is no fool, he knows how to open doors with his paw and pushing them open--so, trying to keep him out when I clean certain rooms by shutting the door is always pointless. Gilligan: He is a small dog--a fox terrier type-- but he's one of my favorites because, despite having only three feet, he is always so dang happy. He bounces all over the place and has the annoying yet endearing habit of hopping on his one hind foot and pouncing on your legs while you're trying to walk. He looks up at you always with his mouth open in a teethly smile with his tongue hanging out either in the front or hanging out on the side. I can hardly resist picking him up and coddling him like a baby although I'm not too sure he likes that. Junebug: One day--a few weeks before I started working in the clinic--I went into the clinic to carry out my trash to the dumpster outside. The usual herd of dogs came up to me to bark and cause commotion since they didn't know me well then. Junebug--the bitch of the group--came up to me barking then bit me on my hip, leaving a bloody, bruised mark that lasted for a little over a week. After I transferred, she would constantly bark at me till one day I finally had enough. I took one violent step toward her and loudly went SHHHHHHHH! Ever since then, she has been scared to death of me. She doesn't bark any longer, instead she runs hurriedly in the opposite direction and hides until I leave the room. When she walks, she has her head straight up, butt and tail cocked in the air, and has a jaunty gait that speaks of conceit. One day, another girl from the clinic--Monica--made a remark about the mutt that still makes me grin when I think of it: "Junebug walks and acts like she's the shit, but she ain't all that." Anyway, I guess that's enough for now. Ta-ta.

	2008.05.26  13.48 Sans Meds and Exhibits. Tired, so tired. It is one of the main reasons that is forcing me to wean off my Lexapro. I knew what was said is true about people taking illicit drugs are kept immature due to not facing what makes them take drugs in the first place. I'm starting to believe that is the same truth when it comes to taking antidepressants. Certainly it might be true that I have a chemical imbalance--my old way of thinking 'chemical imbalance need chemical to balance'--and it convinced me of that because I had always been ANGRY MOODY SAD DEPRESSED ENRAGED IRRITATED since as long as I can remember. Would seem probable that it is a result of a physical malfunction, yes? I resisted the urge to believe that terrible childhoods resulted my poor temperament. I always thought to myself--as I listened to someone else's torture story or read a psychology book that mentioned abuse leading to psychotic-ness---that IT HAPPENED YEARS, DECADES AGO, FORGIVEN, FORGOTTEN, WHO GIVES A SHIT, IT DON'T MATTER ANYMORE, WHAT THE HELL WHAT WAS YESTERDAY IS NOT TODAY, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. But now I've sort of realized that, really, my bad temper and selfish sadness is a habit that began when I was a child: my childish way of reacting to the badness and sickness I had to live with each day among my brothers. The habit started because I was indeed just a child and did not know how to be proactive, how to forcibly say no, how to even stop and tell on my brother to my parents what was going on. The only way I felt that I could react to each bad situation was to get instantly angry or depressed (and do nothing and let it happen). So, I'm weaning. Wish me luck if you would, please. Oh, I was going to write a whole lot more about what I'm going to be doing, my plans and what not for the next 6mths to a year. Exhibits and Toyota Prius hybrids are on the mind. xoxo.

	2008.04.21  20.35 Well, what do you know? I quit the deli and got a job at an animal shelter, without even an interview. I've spent the last 3 1/2 weeks working at the Gulf Coast Humane Society, working mostly with cats (about 80+ of them) in the "kitten room", but sometimes I work in the "cat room" with cleaner, older cats, and my fave: 2 Great Danes and a poor, arthritic 3983794-year old Shepard mix that looks more like a coyote. It's a great job compared to my last one. I got paid 6.35 an hour at the deli (after two raises!), this place started me off at 7.50 an hour and it's a (relatively) easier, much more fun, and less stressful job. Plus, I get to be around dogs (a little.) I'm not a cat person, I'll never own a cat. Sure, a lot of them are sweet and playful, but in general scaredy cats get on me nerves. I'm very fond of dogs, big dogs not small ones, especially the Great Danes, Dobermans, German Shepards, and Huskies. So it's nice to be around them, take them for walks (sometimes) for pay when I cannot have my own dog (not till I move out, and I won't have one in some tiny apartment. I think it sucks big donkey dong when people have large dogs in little places: they need a decent-sized yards.) Mostly I spend my days cleaning cages, petting the nice kitties and wrestling with the feral ones. Yes, feral. We get quite a few of them. 2 of them right now are the most beautiful cats we have, Siamese with violet-blue eyes, and they are the meanest of all ferals we got. One of them keeps its ears flat coming out straight from each side of its head, to where it makes a perfect straight line from one ear tip to the other. It sits continuously in its litter box, head down, perfect blue eyes barely seeing above the rim of the box. When you walk by, those eyes ominously follow you. The other cat's ears go straight back instead of sideways. It is the meanest/most frightened of the two. It immediately begins hissing and pounding its paw against the floor when you approach it. Like straight out of a horror movie. I'm still wrestling with depression. I do nothing besides work and sleep. I get off work at 6, shower, read a bit, turn off the light at about 8pm and go to sleep. Usually especially lately I get up about 2-3am and lie in bed or get up then go back to sleep about 6am and get back up for work at 7. I haven't been making anything. Hadn't had the desire. I know I need to break out of this and am going to try. I feel almost nothing. I suppose that is it for now.

	2007.12.02  20.29 cozies and a new tattoo. Well, the tattoo isn't finished yet. All I got done was the lining. Originally I thought foot tattoos were the ugliest, and I remember lying to my last ex that I liked his (ugly-placed) tattoo. Over the past year or two my opinion of foot tattoos has changed. Especially since I wear ballet flats everyday except for when I'm at work. And at work is where I made friends with a couple of young guys, one an apprentice tattoo artist, the other--a body-builder wannabe aspiring apprentice tattoo artist, never the less a good artist, who did the outlining: Sorry I was too lazy to turn the pic right side up, but it's a mirror image of a gypsy lady and gypsy zombie/skull reflection. Originally I was to pay about 50 bucks for the finished tat but since I bought a birthday cake for one of the guys--after hearing none of his friends wanted to do anything on his birthday--they both decided I should have a free tat due to my niceness. I get the other one--Kevin--to finish the coloring/shading and am going to give him a fifty or so anyway. What else? Well I'll tell you what else. I got a big goddamn roll of colored wool felt and have been making various things. I made Shay an Ipod cozy a while back and sent it to her in hopes she would tell me how I should improve it, but I don't even fucking know if it was received, but oh well. Aside from that I've been making things for meself: It's a Pill Pouch, since I don't like carrying around noisy, bulky pill bottles. The back. The inside, sort of. I tried making an inner lining of cream-colored silk. I need to somehow uh sew it on without it looking like shit. In case you're wondering, the insides are various pills I was given by one of my coworkers--a pretty awesome biker chick--after I sliced (the top of) my thumb off on the slicer at work yesterday (and boss chose to ignore it thus I didn't get fired nor got taken to the ER). What are the guts of this Pill Pouch? Well the insides include penicillin, tylenol 3, and some yellow things. O yes bebe I finally got meself an Ipod: Made a cozy for it of course: One more thing I made, we'll see if you can guess what it's for: ...the back: (by the way, those are supposed to be pensive-looking clouds.) ...oh, hell--you guessed it-- --PADS AND TAMPONS POUCH! Because I don't want someone who happens to be looking through my bag be slapped in the face with a TAMPAX TAMPON. So anyways, that's that. How was your Thanksgiving? Mine was decent enough. I sat in front of a turkey that had an orange stuff up its ass, but it was enjoyable.

	2007.10.21  20.35 How to Give Yourself a Black Eye: Lesson No. 1 Oh, hell I smacked myself lightly on the side of my cheek. I had been sort of reading, aka STARING STRAIGHT THROUGH THE PAGE WHILE DAY DREAMING ABOUT A LIFE BETTER THAN MINE. I had actually tried to concentrate on reading, but my mind sailed away. I tossed Mr. Urrea's The Devil's Highway on the floor. I was feeling pretty relaxed, but I guess not relaxed enough. Actually, I wanted to sleep. I rolled over and opened the top drawer of my little night dresser (don't need to open the second drawer oh no sir we aren't in the mood to look at naked photos of Mr. Gael Garcia and pulling out the vibrator that sits on top of those photos no sir not right now), my hand patted blindly against the random stuff in the drawer until it found what it was looking for: a caramel-colored packet of ten, with foil bust-outs on the other side. I pulled it out and popped from it four white rounds. I had already taken a few already but my tolerance to soma is quite high these days. I swallowed all four of the nasty, bitter pills, thinking yes o yes I'll be able to sleep now, then I can wake up rested and refreshed in the morning to start another pointless day in my fucking life o yes I picked up the book again. After a few moments, the book began to fall slowly in my weak hands. I turned my head to the side a bit, stretching my neck. No use in fighting it anymore, my eyelids dropped to a close. ************* One eyelid rose. The second followed. I stared at my ceiling light for a moment, I was still lying in the same spot, same position. I looked at my clock. Last time I check it said eleven o'clock, now it declared in red SIX-OH-EIGHT. My brain didn't register it and I said aloud: It's three o'clock My eyes swept over to my feet. I had be lying the the same position I feel asleep in, but the bed was crooked, the bed was way crooked. What the hell? I shouted abruptly. My brain became less slow and less sticky as I took a good look around my room. The plastic supply organizer broke off my art table. Movies that were once neatly stacked on top of my TV were now strewn across the floor. My case for my glasses was destroyed. All my precious silk-flower-making things were out of their proper cases and lying on the floor in a staggering mess. I got out of bed. Another look down my legs revealed colored gems embedded in my skin. What the hell? I repeated as I painstakingly peeled off all the gems and crystals I could see off my knees and thighs. My mouth had been hanging open all this time, and I finally realized something else was wrong. Bewildered, I shuffled out of my unrecognizable room and into the bathroom. I turned on the light. I don't know how long I stood there. Maybe a few seconds, maybe several minutes. The soma had worn off but I still couldn't comprehend what I was staring at: because the idea of it was so so horrible. Blood had oozed from where I once had my lip pierced down to the bottom of my chin. Blood swam in my mouth along with thick saliva. I rinsed out my mouth and washed the thick, crusty blood off my chin and right cheek. But the most ghastly of all was the swelling of my right eye and the odd look and shape of the bridge of my nose. Scared and confused, I went straight into my parents' room and (but it is three o'clock in the morning) woke my mother. As if (and probably is) well-trained to awaken at ungodly hours of the night for disasters her children and husband often find themselves in, my mother was awake instantly and immediately grabbed her hearing aids and glasses and followed me out of the room, across the living room, and into the room that appeared to have been struck by a natural disaster of some sort. My mother slowly looked at everything while I blabbered on and on. I kept repeating I can't believe it I cannae believe it, I tore my flowers off the walls, I can't believe it I cannae believe it It looks to me as confusion, not that you meant to do it, my mother replied to my endless mutterings. She held out her palm-- I want them. Give them to me, all of them, and I will get rid of them. I immediately went to the top drawer and gladly gave her every single 10-packet I had, of which she proceeded to take to the kitchen garbage disposal. So baffled and bewildered was I. I took several photos, especially of the nastiest-looking bruises I had ever seen (on ANYONE) that ran up and down my thighs, buttocks, back, and shoulder. But I'll spare you those photos. That was almost a month ago. *********** Now, I'm taking a cake-decorating class, just for the hell of it. If I like it well enough, I will take the rest of the courses so I can be an expert, maybe get a better-paying job from it than the one I have at Schloztsky's Deli. I still have no recollection of what happened that evening. I was reluctant to tell anyone about it really because I am so ashamed. My unhappiness had finally reached a limit, and now I am trying to do what I can to make my life the way I want it to be. I intend to find a psychologist (or psychiatrist) that I can talk to (for free or that is on my ghetto insurance). There is more, much more but my carpal tunnel in my right hand is starting to get angry with me so I'd better knock off the typing for awhile.

	2007.09.26  17.53 Another day. I'm tired. Don't you know I'm tired? Tired of the way things have been, the way I am, how I treat people. Only a few days ago I bawled my eyes out when an old friend decided not to be my friend anymore for her own delusional reasons. I wasn't really crying for her, or even losing her as a friend--for in my mind I stopped trying to be her friend the past few years due to personality clashes and whatnot. But rather, I wept for what I could see myself becoming 10-20-30 years from now: an old unmarried spinster, a witch with no friends who all the kids and their parents on the block feared. I do not wish to be mean or insensitive, but 2-3 years (especially this past year) of next to no human contact--besides my parents and occasionally my brothers and their families--has turned me into someone I don't like. I'm unfamiliar with closeness and trust, certainly I've not been anyone that is worthy of anybody else's trust--I've misbehaved quite a bit the past year or two... a lot of it from unhappiness and losing touch of reality. I've forgotten empathy. I've become impersonal and I dislike that very much. I actually made an attempt to meet a boy recently, the WORST so-called internet date I've ever been on. I used to meet people--guys, mostly--from the internet all the time. It's the way for social-phobes to get laid, don't you agree? I had so much fun doing this when I was in arizona and even for a while after I came back to texas, I don't recall having a bad semi-blind date from the interwebs, but this one from a few weeks ago will be the LAST time I do that. I think I'd rather just be lonely than meet up with other desperados I have nothing in common, (and who don't quite look like their photo...) But that new low point the other evening woke me up, opened my eyes. Now I will actively undo the wrong I've done in my life, to myself, to others. I'm still on Lexapro, kept thinking it was the magic pill but obviously there is no such thing. Sure it helps but I haven't actively tried to face my fears: being in large crowds (aka parties), meeting new people outside of the internet, taking risks (doing things outside of the everyday routine, outside of the comfort zone), and especially: making commitments. There is so much more to add, so much. But there's nothing else for me to add on here till my next blog in a few days from now: when I have photos to post. Dear readers, I apologize my blogging has become so dull, but that's only because my life is dull, too. But I aim to improve, to make my everyday life more entertaining. xoxo

	2007.07.30  17.45 well, hello! Sorry for the absence. A few things caused this: 1. feeling down. 2. carpal tunnel syndrome. 3. nothing to update on. Well. I've been working for the past month at, uh, SCHLOZTSKY'S DELI. I swore up and down that I'd never do such a thing again, but--without really intending to try to get the job--I walked in, they asked me to sit and fill out an appli and interview right then and there. Because interviewing sucks slightly more than working does, I went ahead and accepted. It pays diddily squat but I do love their sandwiches. And now I know their secrets. Because of low income and for being 25 years old, I qualified for charity health insurance for free, and pay just $5 for doc visits and meds. Wonderful! My doctor put me back on Lexapro when I told her it was the only thing that made my acne disappear. My face looked BAD at that point. I don't think I had ever seen it worse. She said I have a chemical imbalance after I told her what my moods are like and how long its been a problem (10+ years). I suppose I could have guessed that. I had friends and whoever else tell me I don't need to rely on such a thing as ANTIDEPRESSANTS. But now I know it's pointless to try to continue in life without them, especially Lexapro! It's the best of them all (for me). How do I tell people that I had never understood how people got so much joy out of just chatting with coworkers or whoever. I never bothered. I didn't care--nor understood. Of course I don't believe that the purpose in life is for all of us to stare at each other in total silence but I just couldn't feel simple enjoyment in associating with other people very much. On Lexapro, it helps me to. It is also because I'm putting forth more effort to change my thinking patterns and habits. I don't give two shits about dating or having a relationship right now because I am so focused on fixing myself so I can make the COMMITMENT to achieve my goal(s). I didn't realize it was such a problem before, I'm sure everyone else noticed it before I did, though: I STATE WILD AND OUTLANDISH GOALS AND DO NOT COMMIT TO THEM. I'm tired of that. No wonder I've become nothing. But at least I finally pointed that out to myself (with the help of others). Some mornings I wake up scared, terrified. I put on my khaki pants and red SCHLOZTSKY'S polo shirt and hair net and red cap and go to work and I think HOLY GOD HOLY GOD WHAT AM I DOING? WHO AM I? WHERE AM I GOING WITH THIS? I DON'T EVEN MAKE ENOUGH AT THIS PLACE TO PAY RENT OF AN APARTMENT. There are times that I am so afraid, but it's starting to ease up. I know what I want, and I have a good idea on how to get there, but it's going to take awhile. And am I going to tell you about it now? No. Not now.

	2007.06.09  14.01 my lowest point. [WARNING: extreme self-pity inside] my 11-year old niece is here to visit for a few weeks. i figured i wouldn't care one way or the other. the ugly truth is i don't like children. for years i thought i wanted to be a mother, have my own family. i still sort of do--when i'm ready. i'm years away from being ready, if i ever will be. but the truth is even uglier than that. do you really wish to know the truth? it's hideous and i am appalled at myself. she's a chatterbox, talk talk talk, squeal squeal squeal, gesture, laugh, clap, dimpled grin, wide-eyed and personable. her home life is terrible and i've always felt sorry for her, more now than ever, but--as much as i hate to admit it--that doesn't keep me from grimacing when she talks loudly, butts in with a horrible question, rudely make comments on an other's expense. as hard as i try i cannot control my irritation around her, my anger. i resent her terribly. last week i made the suggestion to go to rio valley (or whatever it is called) to go to a farm there and hand pick some fruit. i've been wanting to for a long while and it just sounds so delicious and carefree. we ate lunch just about an hour ago and afterwards i stood by the window to watch them drive off to rio valley (or where ever) to the farm. i told them i had a headache and didn't want to go. but i figured it was everyone's best interest that i didn't go with them, i feared i would truely lose my temper and everyone would have a bad time. it has a lot to do with that i'm envious of my niece. she is having a very tough time at home but despite that, she will have a bright life when she gets older (if she doesn't get pregnant too early or some such thing). she is very intellegent, it surprises me sometimes how bright she really is. as i said, she has a likable personality to everyone else, and she will indeed be physically very beautiful when she gets older. do you see where this goes? i am so disgusted with myself that i have such low feelings. i'm envious because she is a constant reminder that she is/will be more liked, more loved than i'll ever be. i know it's childish to compare like that but i can't seem to help it. i wish i too had a more outgoing personality. maybe then i would have been more liked, even by my own family. my family--especially my parents--point out almost constantly how bad my attitude is, how i will be alone in my life forever if i don't change. i know i have (good) qualities that not-too-many other people have, and maybe there are other people out there that would value these qualities in me, but it guts me hard that these qualities pale so much to having the supreme quality of being talkative and outgoing. maybe i'm in the wrong country. i need out so bad. it will maybe get better when my niece goes back home but the problem with myself will remain. i hadn't had a life in a few years and i don't know how much longer i can tolorate this. i feel like i'm going to snap real soon.

	2007.05.23  11.36 a little bit of green, a little lost money, a little faith. waiting. i'm so tired of waiting. aren't you? i felt alright until i was told we would try to stay in this house--in this town--for as long as possible, even till the end of the year contract here. then i was sad. i wrote in one of the many journals that shay has given me: why do i care? this town or the next can be good enough. maybe i hope we'd live in a more convenient spot in town so i wouldn't have to work my schedule around my parents', so i could walk to the bus stop myself, ride the bus anywhere... must i continue to waste my life? i wasted enough already! what is my goal? to live, i mean really LIVE, and i think the only way for me to do that is to create art and be able to live off of that. the trouble is, i'm not well trained. means i need to go back to school. i told my mother dreamily that the only way i'll go back to school is if i am at school in scotland, namely edinburg. my, aren't i picky? actually, the only way i can go to scotland is: A) i'm very rich B) i'm well educated in a very useful field i.e. medical C) i am a student going to school there. you know the most likely choice that would work best. canadians can go over there on holiday visa, so can 914385719374 other countries EXCEPT united states. i won't bitch anymore about that though because i'm lovin the idea of going back to school (for art!) more and more. i even have another journal (that the wonderful shay got for me, too) that i boldly labeled on the front SCOTLAND. it will be used to write down ideas, plans, ways, and progress on my dream to live there. we had a garage sale. i was hoping i could use the money i make to just...hold on to. i made a little over 100 dollars (sold my violin among many many other things). and i am now in negative balance. partly because i don't balance my checkbook, but also because some fraudulent bastard tracked my card and used it. after paying a double negative balance charge ($70), another 24 dollars was taken--putting me back in the negative hole. my mother insisted i called the number that was listed, although i'm pretty sure that's pointless, it is most likely a troll number, but i called anyway and cheerfully left a message stating that my card was done wrong and if he didn't call back i would sever his balls from his body (although not in those exact words.) so now i'm itching to get a job so i can get out of the negativity in my checking account and mostly to be able to build up a stash. after that episode i felt tired and dismayed. the only kind of action i could think of to do was just to clean up my room and throw away things i don't care about anymore. i now recommend to anyone who feels low to just clean up your room / kitchen / apartment / house. it isn't all that much fun but just put on some awesome music that you can bounce to, dance to, sing along off-key to. haven't been making much, not motivated. and not because of the money deal, i really shouldn't list anything else till i put money in my account. as it is i think i have an etsy bill (like one dollar, ha!) that i still have to pay. randomness... how do i amuse myself? by wearing outfits like these: i wore them in public--at walmart--the other day. i'm still chubby, even though i've been exercising more--thus the reason i got outfits like this one. books i've been reading the past few days: i got revolve--the magazine version of the bible--because my short attention span doesn't tolorate the king james version. i also been reading trainspotting--even though a lot of the times i can't stand to watch certain parts of the movie, nor read certain parts of the book--because i just crave reading something that is written more in a edinburg scots dialect. i know that scottish gaelic--alba--is rarely used in the city, but i've printed out a lot of basics on it months ago and i look at them here and there. however i wish i had an actual book on it. i like the city (edinburg, maybe inverness, but not glascow) but i also very much like the highlands (where that language is mostly spoken i think). i've never been to corpus christi's library, i think it's about time i check it out. i made a practice fancy kanzashi, instead of putting it on a long hair pin (like they usually are attached to) i put it on a clip: it looks like crap, the flowers were done badly, the wire that holds all the little reflecters is mishapened, etc, etc, etc. but that is alright for it was just practice. other stuff: (sun flowers and contrasting brooches!) (making a few more owls!) (my empty-looking bookshelves!) (my third bookshelf is not shown and is--however--full.) i suppose that is enough junk for now, friends. thank you for reading

	2007.05.07  19.11 i know i'm a bit late for soul-searching i am in a lost state. i am reading amy tan's the opposite of fate. i'm not very far in it but already i've broken down while reading. the book is striking a sensitive chord right now because she talks of the amazing experiences she had when she was much younger. it is no friggin' wonder she turned out to be a writer, all the weird coincidences and events that went on in her life, not to mention her weird mother. i wrote in my hand-bounded journal next to my bed: why do i not carry spirals or journals with me everywhere i go now, like i did when i was 19? i suppose it is due to high emotion, excitement, drugs, passion, the realization that i was an actual person, a one, an individual, my life is in my own hands...a troubled preteen usually does not realize that, i think. even older ones have trouble understanding it. why am i writing all this? well, as i said i feel lost. empty. i told myself each year that i would do things, accomplish thing that would make it worthy and worthwhile to celebrate my birthday at the end of the year. to be deserving of a celebration of the day i was born. but it hasn't been so, yet. i may seem like i'm being to harsh on myself, and maybe i am, but i feel this fire in me, i want to make a difference in the world, have a good influence in people's lives and in my own. and it's true that i want to be beautiful. it was a huge mistake cutting my hair but i'm alright with it because it'll be as long as i want it to be in about 2-3 years from now if i don't color/bleach it and if i keep up with trimming off split ends twice a year. of course i'm not just talking about physical beauty in general. i'm saying that with long hair, toned muscle, and knee-length fitted skirts with high heels will up my self-confidence. and it's inner beauty. i am who i truely am when i'm alone, i am cool like dat, but when i'm with someone else whom i do not know much (and sometimes even with people i DO know) i turn into someone i don't like. when will i have the guts and the willpower to be who i want to be? i think it resides in accomplishment, achieved goals, the will to become independent (not only from boys but in general), to be one's own and to do what one is born to do, and not work at some crappy job like WALMART. i will not turn back to antidepressants again. i take st. john's wort and sam-E along with some other vitamins but that's it. i think i know what to do, but then i don't know what to do. do you? anyway. this is what i was doing today: i have never made an elaborate kanzashi, like the ones geisha and maiko wear, mostly because i have no idea how you put them together since i don't own any and have no books on it. but i've seen some photos, most of them just show the front, but there are a few that show the back and thus i think i can sort of figure out how to do it. so far i'm going kind of slow because my mind has been occupied. however, the flower i made are HIDEOUS. i can't get over how BAD they look. maybe i'm out of synce or something. out of practice for this particular petal shape. but nevertheless, i will put them all together. i have no intentions of selling this particular one, of course, it is just practice. i hadn't done the free-flowing, dangly part of the kanzashi yet, but i will soon: my work table at the moment: future fabric that will be put to work soon: know what else i did today? i went to half-priced books and sold so much more of my books and nearly all of my magazines. i got a whopping $61. i know half-priced has made a lot of money off of me, this was my fourth-fifth trip up there the past few months. i know i sold at least about $1000 worth of books for maybe $200, MAYBE: HOLY COW my bookshelves look so EMPTY. but it's cool, very cool. if anyone has any advice about the turminoil that is going on in my head about life, work, dreams, happiness, PLEASE feel free to send me messages!

	2007.05.05  10.07 i am still in the same spot. my father has not found a job as of late. Yet he has more of a social life than i do. it is almost infuriating. i don't like to drive that big ol van-that-makes-wide-turns but i hate being left at home. i want to go OUT. i want to get LAID (sorry). i want to WORK again, except not at walmart. but i cannot do any of those things until after we move to the next town. but what will be the next town? no idea. the wait is eating me up, although it is more savage on my parents, of course. i still have a couple hundred in my checking account. i hope the next town we go to has bank of america, for i am sick and tired of closing bank accounts every goddamn time we move. but really, i should have nearly 1000 in my checking account. where did the other 600-700 go? i know parts of it goes to my med bills...and--oh i won't bore you anymore with this sort of thing. i created a new blog on bloggers. i wanted it to be a crafty blog, slightly more profession and more for and about the things i make and my dreams of being self-employed, having my own physical shop. that makes money. rather than just sits there like my etsy shop does. but of course i haven't been online marketing much, been too lazy. and now i'm a bit on the sick side, have this weird infection that started out as a sinus thing last weekend and now it has spread to other areas. a general infection, i suppose. i'm blaming it on all the mold and dust we had to breath in during remodeling. i remember one guy was getting a sinus infection too. i am so glad i quit that job. but i felt guilty a few days later: my mother came home from a harsh day. she had worked all day but since there was no physical therapy/whatever it is that she does, she didn't get paid for doing a full day's work. i told her she should quit that job. she spun on her heels and exclaimed: and what can i do then? work at walmart, i cracked. she took a few steps closer to me and hissed, that is what YOU should be doing. i turned and walked away then. i am a rude person. more often than not, when i feel trapped, hopeless, depressed, caged (like almost always lately) regardless if it's my fault or not (beyond my control or not), i take out my irritation out on anyone around me. actually, not anyone, just my parents. why? well, i'm unfair. my view is they cage me, they are the ones always telling me to come out of my room, they are the ones--especially my mother--that insist on going where i go, and do not understand why i must be alone, why i must be independent. i feel so uninspired. after my mother's comment, i wanted to retaliate. not eat supper with them. not speak. but after awhile (about 10 minutes) i cooled and was grateful, even though i still cried off and on throughout the rest of the afternoon and evening. i need to be reminded how nasty i can be. that is the only way i can and would be willing to change. my mother and i are on better terms now. but now the three of us are caged. i want to get a job and then a car and move the fuck out. my mother wants a permenant house. my dad just wants a 90,000+ a year-paying job. and now the three of us are waiting. i have no idea what the next town will be. i know that where ever i go, my luck will be about the same unless i put in the effort to change it. but sometimes, the town has its own positive or negative influence. i sincerely hope the next town's influence will be good. we're going to have a garage sale. i'm going to sell a lot of my magazines and some more books, maybe some cds too, to half-priced. then sell a lot of the clothes i don't/can't wear, among other things. i don't want to be a pack rat anymore. and it'll make it a lot easier on me when i do finally move back out. i made a bunch of kanzashi: also, i bought my own digital camera finally! can you see the crappiness of it? ugh. and it's a NIKON, too.

	2007.04.28  13.57 midland and other possibilities. last night i bought two amazing books from half-priced: since i couldn't sleep, i--inspired by shay--went to an early breakfast at ihop while it was still dark outside. i took one of my book--complete book of paper-making--with me. i pored over the fascinating book while awaiting my choco-chip pancakes. the book surprised me with three sample handmade strips of paper glued on one page. the first one was recycled paper. i rubbed it thoughtfully. the second one was eucyluptous--can't spell, sorry--tree material. i rubbed it slowly--enjoyably--until i notice one of the male employees stoped at what he was doing to stare at me. i put my hand away. when he walked out of sight, i put my hand back on the page and started rubbing the third sample: cotton linen. mmmmmmm (rubrubrub). do i need to tell you what my next obsession is? years ago--when i was about 19-20 years old--i took a print press class (it was required for digital arts). i didn't care too much, mostly because we spent most of the time on the computer doing junk (why i wasted 2 semesters on digital arts i'll never know) however my ears perked up when the jolly professor spoke of printing: the old-fashioned way. he talked about silk-screening. he lovingly showed us his babies: all the print presses in the school print room. he took us on a mini field trip to a printpress company somewhere in tucson. i glanced appreciatively at each press and whatnot, but when we were taken to a seperate warehouse in the back, i gaped at everything i saw. it was a relatively empty-looking warehouse, compared to the other building we were previously in, however they had all the bookbinding equipment there. my professor and the bookbinder went through the steps on HOW-TO. after the field trip i didn't think much on it again for a long while. why? i don't know. but something had itched and i ignored it. now i'm ready to indulge that interest. the bookbinding book i got is nifty, mostly had just the basics, plus a few rad book-cover ideas. but the complete guide to papermaking is !&!&#%!@!%@$%. there is no trade school for papermaking in america--that i know of, anyway. it's mostly a big thing in europe. the guy that wrote this amazing book lives in spain. it'll probably be just a hobby for now, but later i intend to incorporate it into something-- anyway. i was going to call this blog 'deutschland and other possibilities' but germany is out. mi papa lost his job last week and tried to go for a job opening in germany. would've been nice, but it didn't go. now he's looking at midland, texas. it's best not to ask. originally i was just going to move out and stay here while working at walmart, but that's totally unpractical bc (1) i have no car (2) walmart here pays me $1 less an hour than the other walmarts have paid me (3) i realized working for walmart AND graveyard sucks (4) i've come to the conclusion that corpus christi sucks, too. i don't want to be among all the young single, unmarried, divorced parents. depressing. besides all that, walmart's been beatin me up. looks like (a) i've got a white-trash abusive husband waiting for me at home (b) am fond of needles (c) got leukemia. really, the pictures do the bruises no justice. they look much more plentiful and darker in real life. but my coworkers don't get bruises like i do. i'm tired of hearing comments about it, and i get weird looks from people when i go out in public. i don't blame them. my guess is i need to take more iron and vitamin c but who knows. movies? i hadn't seen amelie in a long while till now, i've forgotten how wonderful the movie is. i don't want to watch it again for a while because i don't want to ruin it by making the movie predictable. ganster no. 1 isn't that great. paul bettany is in it and that's why i wanted it. it's a british ganster movie with a slight psycho-ness that surprised me a bit, but it's still not really worth it. flowers? how about some owls? i saw a how-to online for these things and couldn't resist to try. the first one i made came out not too good: the second was better: then made a few more: so now i have a gang: i know they look kinda retarded but I DON'T CARE MMKAY. when i get my own dig cam, i'll be taking photos of every damn thing i do so all my blogs will be crammed with (someday) eye-candy pictures. but for now my room is dark due to alumminum foiled windows, and my life is dark due to working shitty job at shitty hours. i thought it wouldn't bother me much but it bugs the hell out of me now. i feel trapped, but i'm only going to work there for another couple weeks or so, or until whenever mi papa gets another job and we GO. i'm tired, my gentle readers. and i know you are too, of the pointless things i write about and take photos of. it'll get better.

	2007.04.04  09.12 oh gods, GREEN TEA TOOTHPASTE as i was swerving the pallet jack in between two feature pallets on the floor, i jerked to a stop. the young man that i was working with--and of whom i am fond--stopped behind me. JESUS! i exclaimed. were my eyes decieving me? i put out my hand to grab one of the rectangular boxes in front of me. the young man is a bit young, 21. i figured. i always get the friggin' age wrong: almost always they are younger than they appear. i find him very attractive and he said he liked my style. i picked up the box and held it near. oh, wow, i murmured to myself. what? the young man asked. he's also married. when he told me, i didn't believe him. i made him repeat it a couple times. he said he likes to flirt. he said he and his wife have troubles. will you LOOK at THIS... i held the rectangular box up. on the second night at work, after i admitted i thought he was A-GOOD-A-LOOKIN, he grabbed my hand while nobody was looking and bombarded my lips with a kiss. we then both looked up and saw the little black camera bowl protruding from the ceiling. you suppose they are watching us? he said nonchalantly. i pointed at the rectangular box as he stared at it. GREEN TEA TOOTHPASTE, i squealed gleefully. then today, i went into the empty personel office to find something. he followed me in and said that there are no cameras in here to watch us. he picked up my hand and laid another kiss on me before i could even blink. green tea toothpaste...i don't believe it, i said to him, what will they think of next? he asked a question, and i answered it by saying it has been at least 7 months since i've been with a man. that's pretty cool, he said goodnaturedly of the toothpaste. it wasn't until today he told me he is also a father. there is nothing, absolutely NOTHING to be made of it. all it is really is i've just been romantically numb for the past 7 months, for the most part, and just now my blood pumps again. he is just an excuse, just a trigger. i desire him very much but i've got no desire to get into bed with a married (younger) man who has an adorable daughter somewhere.

	2007.03.24  22.28 an, uh, update. i feel so much better and so much worse. i took my second algebra test the other day, and am pretty sure i failed it, just like the first test. yesterday, i sat in front of my computer, working on my The Cid book chart for world literature, then i reminded myself i have 2 4-page essays to do for that class and-- (oh, CHRIST.) my right wrist has been hurting. i've been spending too much time at the computer looking at things that i shouldn't be (not porn, just craft blogs and etsy.com) instead of doing homework. i told myself repeatedly that i need to not use the internet except for homework. then i decided it would be fantastic--just FANTASTIC--if i went ahead and dropped-my-algebra-AND-my-world-literature-class. i will do that first thing on monday. i already trashed my biology lecture and lab. all i'll have left is government, ballet, and swimming. so, yes, i can breathe. but i feel so GUILTY. i turned in an application today. at walmart. yes. walmart. i'm terrified that what my mother said the other day will be true: you will be unhappy, just like how you were before. no, goddammit. no. i will not allow myself to be like before! WILL NOT. i believe i know myself better now, i have GOALS, but they aren't just GOALS, they are DREAM GOALS. i won't be going around so aimlessly anymore! well, i'll try not to. walmart sucks, yes, but instead of buying clothes, books, movies, records, and whatever else with each paycheck...i will just neatly sock away the check directly into savings. sure, most of it will go to a car. but the rest...that would be for---->my ambitions. owning my own crafty/soap/oddsNends store + scotland. (or i'll have one or the other). this morning my parents said that my dad may lose his job in september. he may take a job in ft. hood (near TEMPLE). jesus. i kinda like corpus christi and i'm tired of moving. i was bitching and complaining how i want to move out, and now--unfortunately--i may get my wish quickly enough. i wouldn't mind too much but i had plans on working full time, maybe even double time with two jobs so i could save ten thousand dollars or some such amount... i'm starting to really hate being obsessive-compulsive. i suppose i get it from my dad. i feel like a freak sometimes and i'm afraid someone will walk in and witness one of the many rituals that i do. the past few weeks it has been worse/more annoying. maybe it's because i've been feeling more anxious/guilty about school, and now about my future. every time i close a door of any kind, i tap on it in a certain rhythm. if it isn't JUST right, i repeat the tapping or else i'll get overcome with a terrible feeling that something dreadful will happen to me/my family/the house/this town/to my sewing machine/whatever if i don't do this particular rhythm perfectly. this happens with just about everything i touch--if i'm not being watched. imagine how long it takes me to get cleaned up and ready for bed each night. and at night, when i'm in bed? the same thoughts repeat over and over, bad thoughts i have to counteract with good thoughts or else, in my way of thinking, the bad things will come true. one of these bad thoughts, what i fight every single night that i can recall, is about getting sick. namely, in the tummy. what is that word? EMETOPHOBIA. ugh ugh gross gross i've had a fear of that since i was a kid. i hated/feared alcohol when i was much younger because i believed it was enevitable that drinking would make you get sick. it wasn't till much later that that isn't true if you know your limit. am i making any sense? i'm such a weirdo. the past few weeks, all the nervous tics i've always had have been more pronounced. it's really getting on my nerves and it's getting me down a bit. whenever i find a job (walmart?), the first thing i'm doing is signing up for health insurance. i very much want to see a doctor about this now. i never said anything before to anyone, doctors especially, because i felt really stupid/freaky/humiliated. now i'm more than willing to overlook that to get this problem solved. however i don't want to get on any more antidepressants!!!! :[[[[[ but then i don't know if there is anything else a doctor could do for it. (i'm pretty sure my next health insurance will not cover a psychiatrist.) i don't know. i need to stop now, my wrist is aching bad again. OH! and i sold one hair clip! HOLY COW!

	2007.03.15  20.25 i chopped my hair off. ok ladies and gentlemen. i needed a trim badly (bc of so much swimming) well, i cut, made a mistake, cut some more, cutcutcut, then i decided: to hell with it, summer's around the corner and summers here i hear are BRUTAL. so i cut it all off. and it looks like shit. i know i did a shitty job on cutting, been cutting my hair for over 10 years and i still can't do it right. i wanted to go to a professional after my first mistake but i had no money and my mother wouldn't even pay for a walmart stylist to fix it. after looking at these pics, i saw more closely what i need to even out. also, it depressed me. i look so much worse than i thought. so does my hair. maybe i'm being too negative, i dunno. the photos suck. i don't see how scene people can take so many mirror pics. i was getting fustrated. top: side: other side, kinda: then if i put my bangs down: ugh. i dunno. i need to fix it some more later.

	2007.03.12  19.27 a photo account of what i've been doing the past few days i hadn't even started my homework list. and it is quite a list. i intended to use spring break for catching up in my classes (how like me). but yet i've been squandering time to do other things (also very like me). i've been doing tsumami kanzashi like nobody's business. these are what i've made in the past week: even though i have doubts that they will sell, i love them. i'm in the middle of setting up my ETSY SHOP, i've got three up there, am about to put up a fourth one and that will be it for now. later on i'll add the rest. not much new with me, of course. probably nothing will change much for me, in my life, for a year or so. i'm just taking it easy, i suppose. i've let go my feelings of loneliness. i'm still trying to lose some weight, it was depressing me before but not anymore. i'm not surprised i gained weight bc i was on lexapro, i quit smoking completely, got off all drugs, and have no friends to hang out with. but it'll be alright. i am going to take no classes during summer so i can find a full-time job. save every penny and buy a used car soon after summer vacation. i intend to pay it off quickly, and then focus on moving out. i'm still dreaming about scotland, i will go there somehow. i just don't know how, yet. they say americans have a lot of difficulty moving there unless they're very rich or are highly educated in science/medical/technical fields. which i won't be. anyway. i have two papaver somniferum sprouts: not like it matters, and i don't know if you can even see them. care to see what my work table looks like? yes, of course you do: i made some fluffy stuff a month or so ago, i pulled them out, intending to do something with them. don't ask me how i get retarded ideas to make gay things. oh yea, see that messy blob of scrap silk?: well, i started making the world's ugliest wire box to put that stuff in, since i couldn't find some other box: yea. just you wait till i cover the thing with fabric. yea. HEY do you know what i'm going to do next? you got it. i'm going to knit my own lingerie. along with that, i'm getting into making bath bombs (since they're so expensive in stores, and the ones the stores sell aren't that spectacular) and some soap bars. i'm getting dull in my ripe, old age.

	2007.02.25  22.43 schoolwork, or there lackof. i should probably be in bed but i'm tired of being in bed. i'm not 100% sure what caused it, but i'm thinking it's just my allergies. i won't get into the details cos it's nasty. night before last night, feeling ill, tossing and turning, not falling asleep till 4-5am, i thought long and hard about the direction i'm going. i'm worried all the time. this semester is sucking hard balls. it is mostly because all but one of my six classes (which is ballet) i hate severely. i do sort of like my biology lab, because i like the labs, but not the lecture so much. we're tested on stuff he doesn't talk about, and he cares more about our project on why milk is bad for you (which i'm have a super duper hard time on) than he cares about teaching us general biology, and especially, WHAT'S GONNA BE ON THE GODDAMN TEST. my other classes: world literature...i was supposed to turn in two essays today but didn't finish the second one due to feeling bad, and also, obviously, i didn't go to class today. algebra? i was understanding somewhat till last homework assignment. i'll somehow learn through the crappy textbook on how to do today's lesson, of which i missed. swim class? well that's not too bad. although she usually gives us a test every other class. hopefully not today cos i won't be there. but you know what? i can SWIM now! government? well we watched a civil rights film titled EYE ON THE PRIZE or BRIDGE MARCH. whatever it was called. i was probably the only person in that class that cried during the film. i don't know what we're supposed to do tonight, but i need to get cracking on the essay for THAT class. ballet, tomorrow, we're supposed to discuss some articles we read in the last class. hopefully i'll be ok enough to go, and hopefully we don't have to dance tomorrow, unless i feel better, i'll just have to sit and watch. but, yes, back to my main worries and the tossing and turning. i hate this semester. i want to quit but of course i will not. i'll tredge on. and it'll be easier for me to do this now since i made a decision during that uncomfortable night. i'm still interested in pathology, and will probably get into it years later, or learn about it on my own, through books and whatnot. i'm just really missing art, and lately been ultra-crafty, and crave making something with felt, buttons, ink, old paper, french articles, mirrors and gems, old books, silks and pearls, etc etc etc. you know where this is going. i'm dropping the science degree idea and going back into fine arts. i think i have about 50-60 credits of fine arts alone. i'm just about there in my associate degree (after 5 years or so) why the hell not? i still like some aspects of biology and the medical field, but not enough to go through all the hell and hatred to get a fucking sheet of paper from medical school. more than anything i want to be HAPPY. being rich and being super-smart doesn't mean much to me anymore. i want my everyday life to be colorful, artsy, adventurous. so, yeah. that's the thinking for today. you know how many times i've changed my friggin' mind???

	2007.02.20  03.51 i promise that my life will be interesting someday but it isn't today, sorry. however i got my y tu mama tambien in the mail, pretty good movie. if you don't mind subtitles and if you aren't offended easily by sexy movies, i recommend you watch it.

	2007.02.10  03.41 i just feel like updating this thing again. i'm feelin pretty spiffy at the moment. i put my record player on a chair and scooted it into my bathroom so i could listen to deathcab for cutie's airplane lp while i took a bubble bath and drank some wine. i hadn't really listened to that album much since i lived in my own apartment 3 years or so ago. i procrasinated with my biology throughout the day. my professor seems to be a good man but he cares more about our project on WHY DRINKING MILK IS BAD FOR YOU instead of teaching us about the assorted bacterium and fungi that's out there. i hate this fucking project. it may be better once i really get into it, but the trouble is that we have to use an iMovie dig camera (which i do not have) and do a 10-minute film on the project. maybe i'm not that creative but: what am i to film? some cows? an old lady with ostesporosis? an interview with someone that is badly lactose-intolorant? besides that, since i don't have one, i'll have to borrow one of the 6 cams that the little science building has--which i cannot take the cam out of. so maybe i could post some milk-danger-related pictures on the soda-and-grime stained wall and film the fucking wall. nobody else posts much on this thing anymore. is it because you're too busy? grown out of it? despise myspace? hard to believe, but i'm even getting over myspace a little, probably though because i don't hear anything from anyone anymore. i wonder how long i'll be friendless. i'm having doubts with my choice of degree, and especially medical school. a few days ago i looked at myself and my life and was ready to give it all up, felt so sad and empty. but that could just be me not feeling so hot lately. bleh. usually writing blogs make me feel better, but now i feel worse.

	2007.02.09  02.07 just some friendly advice stay the hell awaaaaay from lexapro, or really if you can help it, any prescription antidepressants. i heard lexapro withdrawal were bad, but i figured they couldn't be worse than the 3 days of hell that effexor gives ya. well. i weaned off of it for over a week, and it's been about 4-5 days of no lex. i've always been used to tinnus or whatever that ringing in your ears is called, due to nerve deafness and loud music, however i didn't realize that condition also included ringing in the head, or 'brain shivers', or if you prefer...'brain taps' ::shudder:: i hate this shit. i had this problem when i had strep infection last year. it sends shocks throughout your body, starting from the head, usually everytime you move your head or your eyeballs. other symptoms? dizziness, sick in the tum-tum, higher anxiety and sadness, alot of fatigue, and vivid nightmares. however, 'nightmares' send such a negative feeling, the dreams i've been having are scary but i don't mind, because their so interesting. it's like i have a secret life. the worst of it is i've compared other people's complaints to find: these damn symptoms last about 1-7 weeks, sometimes even up to 3 months. the past few days i had to go home and rest in between classes--where i usually just stay at the campus all day. i'm even more behind on schoolwork bc can't consentrate or get too tired. but at least i know it'll go away soon... so yes, screw the prescriptions, just take your herbs and vitamins. i watched the motorcycle diaries twice in the past 2 days. now i'm obsessed with che guevara (and not only because i drank at che's in tucson all the damn time) and especially with the handsome gael garcia bernal. i look forward to seeing some of his other movies. i don't know what else. i'm tired. i'd like a gourd cup, a natural wood straw with holes on the bottom to drink some yerba mate with. maybe some coca leaves and make some tea out of them. my posts are boring these days. i compare them to the ones i wrote from when i was in tucson, az, and it's just bland, stupid, nothingness. and where the hell is everybody?

	2007.01.27  00.58 e-crushes, Sweet James, and a bit of common sense. I had a dream this morning, which reminded me what it feels like to be alive. James from The Bled was in it, interestingly enough. i've forgotten most of it, but it was wildly sweet and now i have an e-crush on the guy. it's alot better than having a crush on my algebra professor or on his twin brother. I've hung out with Ross a few times, very nice guy i like him, and seen Jeremy around Tucson but never spoke to him. However James i never saw outside of shows except once years ago, possibly before their first album came out: he was standing outside Skrappy's, standing feet wide, arms wide, yodeling with that powerful voice of his. i remember thinking, I WANT TO HAVE SOMEONE LIKE THAT IN MY EVERYDAY LIFE. his friends are lucky. so i'll spend the next 8492357487 weeks daydreaming about Sweet James untill i meet someone that equals or surpasses his liviness and humour. and his looks. but aside from that, i am not interested in anyone at all, at all. i try to make it clear without being harsh and unfeeling: i'm not interested. at all. but they still keep coming with the woos that will never work. never. if there is no chemistry, there'll never be. sometimes i cannot get over how BOLD some of these guys get with their fucking comments, when they have NOTHING SIGNIFICANT in common with me. at all. besides all that, even if Sweet James magically appeared in my bed and decided it'd be SWEET to stay for the rest of the month there, i would be forced to tell him to go home. school has just started 2 weeks ago and already i'm behind. ♥♥♥ and just for kicks...i'll creepily post my favourite photo of my e-crush: yea, bebe.

	2007.01.14  23.27 it has made my life difficult but i thank my lucky stars that i was born with severe hearing loss. the biggest thing is getting free tuition for ever and ever. considering how i value education and want to go to med school and all that, i'll get $31,874,931,087,109.52 of schooling for free... today my mother and i dropped by to make another payment on my new hearing aid. the nicest, most awesome--and youngest i've seen--audiologist promised me that i will have an alarm clock that shakes the bed (o la la!) and that i will get a free--FREE!--Sidekick 3. that, then i'd have to pay 30 bucks a month for the internet service, but i don't care. a free sidekick! i'm going to be the most spoiled bitch on the south side. it's been several days since shay left, and the enormity of what i did to her has kicked in. i am heartLESS, selfISH, and oh so careLESS. the true color of my soul has been maginified 9438598947 times and it hurts terribly to look. each time i break another's spirit, i become more true. i started to read the bible 2 days ago.

	2006.12.30  04.54 be warned: a whole lotta photos my parents went out of town today, so i thought, HEY! i'll pull out my dad's dig cam and take pictures of my new necklaces that i've been making lately. and especially, take photos of me WEARING IT! sounds simple? well-- the fucking camera was fucking heavy and it wouldn't fucking take pictures when i fucking wanted it to, so i was getting pretty fucking mad: well, here's a pic of it alone, along with other stuff: and then, i decided it'd be awesome if i made some cupcakes. didn't have cake mix or icing so i make it all from scratch. and i was drinking irish liqour and was (am) drunk, while watching some videos of the locust, black heart procession, and my beloved rapture...i thought it'd be alright to take pics of the vids and the cupcakes-- i say the icing turned out a little runny... anyway, that was my day. the only other thing i can think of to say is that i want to live in edinburgh, scotland. i don't give a rat's bum that it's a poor country and all that, i want to live there for 2 years after i finish school, and be near the famous nessie, although loch ness is a bit far from edinburgh... i will start learning alba, or something, the scottish gaelic. ♥♥♥

	2006.12.22  03.59 bubble. i notice that whenever i don't have a job, thus steady money flow, i hunger for all kinds of materialistic things. for now, my wants are: scottish music, notably gaelic punk (Runrig). the movie Vibes with cyndie lauper. the book Beyond Reason: Art and Psychosis Works a photo book dispicting amish life. the book Drop Dead Cute. the Lisa Crystal Carver memoir. the movie Mask. the movie Freaks. some various classic horror movies. the movie Barfly. all the old R.L. Stine Fear Street books that i read in middle school, but long ago gotten rid of. the book Generation T and other crafty books, also on day of the dead art and sugar skulls. more movies: orange county, focus, hardball. the book The Book of Weird Sex. and The Realm of the Unreal. Joe Coleman's Original Sin. oh, jeez. the list goes on and on. one last thing i want: BOBA. for my bubble tea. i soaked overnight large pearls in cherry syrup, to put in with cherry green tea and chocolate milk, but the pearls weren't the right kind to use... besides that, i've been bored enough to look up pen pals. screw email, i want to send stuff through snail mail. ♥♥♥