Why?

The feds have yet to give me money. So I get to wait on hold forever! Yeah!!! I hate this. All I want is to get my money damn it. The most annoying thing to me ever is having to sit here and wait for them. I've got about 15 minutes left in me to sit here in wait since that will be my break time. I feel like a slacker spending the first part of my day on hold I can't help but wish I didn't have a scheduled break. It's just a cigarette damn it! So what's up feds it's JULY! Everyone else has gotten their money so where is mine? Oh, lost you say! Well, no thank you for having me on hold for the past 35 minutes so you can tell me that I need to re-send it and that you people obviously can't do your job correctly. Damn it. Now I have to figure that out and I'm working off of maybe 4 hours of sleep today. Which isn't really anything new. I haven't been able to sleep that much for the past week. They don't even have real coffee here! It's all decaf, which is like a really bad cock tease. I've tried everything to help me sleep. I've been reading, wrote close to a novel of thoughts in my journal, playing video games, etc. Nothing helps besides the obvious which is drinking and I feel kind of bad doing that every day. All I want is my god damn money from the government right now and a stiff drink. Or a whole bottle... it's a little past noon that's okay to have those thoughts right? Yea smoke time! Yes I know I'm bitching but I'm trying to update more! I shall rant to you soon...

Spiral of me

I've had it with today. Maybe not today, perhaps I have had it with myself. I can't seem to keep myself happy. I went to my happy place and everything. I pictured the blue sky, the fucking ocean and even puppies, no happiness to be found. I almost feel like I am at an odd crossroad. Let me explain. Last night, I had an epiphany. For the first time in a very long time I was happy. A rush of energy seemed to flow through my body. It felt humbling to be alone and feel this great power inside of me surging through my veins. I wrote at least 12 pages worth of rambling in my journal. All was well. I was grateful for experiencing this. I went to bed early with a smile on my face feeling as though I had things where I wanted them to be. When I woke up today it felt like all of that was gone. I couldn't seem to get in the right step of things. Such is life I thought, once you get things figured out they seem to dissolve down as quick as they were formed. I wonder if I threw myself into this place by putting so much pressure on a pure feeling. Nothing amazing had happened really to make me happy. When I was younger I imagined bottling up these feeling. Preserving them like jam or picked things to break out when needed. I feel like everything is out of whack today. The stress cause by the stack of bills, nonexistent motivation and lack of food. I realized last night during my happy surge the mistake that I've been making all of these years. I've felt a need to become something. Thinking to myself that if I do this or that I will become this. I would evolve into this wonderful person that I felt that I could be. After many tries and fails, I get upset and quit. I never quite realized that all this time I spend trying to become someone else should be spent appreciating who I am. I'm still not there. I can point out my flaws like no ones business. I know everyone does this, but it still doesn't make it okay. I don't know how to fully love and accept myself. Leaving me here, hating myself yet again. Blaming my problems on the day. Why is it so much easier to see the flaws? Why can't I seem to see the goodness of me? I wish I could be to a point where I don't want to change myself or my life. To just stay at that happy place. I doubt that anyone really gets there. Most of this spiral of thoughts is lead on by the one question I've been asking myself for years. What do I want to do when I grow up? Who do I want to be? Teachers ask you it in school. Parents ask you at home. The people around me already seem to have it figured out. I wonder why it seems so much easier for them to know what they wanted to do. Not for me! I have to sit there and nit-pick every option. I find a flaw in all that I think about doing and in my anxiety driven thoughts I decide that it won't work. I let my dreams unravel time and time again. I feel like I should allow myself to actually go for them instead I don't. Fretting to make a mistake or lack of judgement. I ease away from thoughts of school walking away from them when I feel they're impossible. Now my head hurts and the happiness brought upon me is from the clicking of a few aspirin against my teeth. No wonder I put myself down when I have been giving so much stress into a simple question. Agonizing over it for the past 6+ years. I need to find me and ask what I really want to do with my life once in for all. I need to stop beating myself up.

Breaking away

So it's that time. The panic driven and frustrating over thinking. My mind is racing and I'm smoking like a chimney. I've been planning out a cheap vacation. It's been years since I've actually had one and I think it's time. Obviously I have never done this before, on my own that is. Since I am a strong, independent woman I figured that it wouldn't be that bad! Right? I already have a week off from work, which was an incredible feat since so many people take the summer months off at the office. I have found my destination and how to get there. I'm amazed after spending the past two days on this, that I have almost everything planned out. It's odd, but I'm OCD at times. I seem to really strive at planning but I usually fail at the acting upon such plans. Lucky for me I have a bus ticket to Chicago and there is no turning back now! Part of me is scared to death of this. It's been a dream of mine to take a vacation by myself. I don't think that I'll have any problems *knock on wood* traveling by myself. I mean, come on, I live in Minneapolis! I'm not some country girl, I can handle my own in the city. My concern is finding a cheap place to stay, that's going to be safe. I don't really feel like being thrown into a ghetto area where I am afraid. Mentally this is agonizing. I feel like if I end up booking a hotel now I'll find one cheaper later.To think on the negative side, I could take my sweet ass time and have no place to stay unless I want to stay in such ghetto areas that I am trying to avoid. It probably doesn't help that I have no clue as to what these bad areas are in Chicago... I'm completely clueless. I just started planning this out and I know I shouldn't stress out. I have a hard time with the not stressing out part! I've been meaning to do this for me. I've been working so hard that I haven't even had time to really update on here... I just need to get away. Does anyone have any suggestions for me besides grabbing a bottle and relaxing for once? I would be very happy if I could get any tips on a cheap place to stay and also stuff to do while there... thank you!~

changes

My thoughts seem to drift in and out of where they should be lately. Almost like a temporary A.D.H.D bracing me. I have been contemplating a plan of attack. A way to "set my mark" on this world. This is something that has been bothering me. I wonder how many millions of others out there think this. I know it's one of the things that life is about, making or doing some thing to let the world know who you are. The more I think about it, the more I wonder how many people die before actually being able to do such. Perhaps, they spend their lives plotting, carefully planning out ways to shine above all. Even if for one second they are something more than just another person. I wonder often if it's even possible to make that huge of a change or what I could do to change things. I know the best way to start is to start small. I've heard before that even if you can't change the world you could change something small. I guess I have to high of expectations at times. I know taking the easy way out is far more appealing. Can I change the world sitting here in front of my computer? Perhaps not, but I can encourage thought through my writing. Thoughts can lead to action. I hope that all of you consider doing something even a little thing to make a change. Even if it's picking up a piece of trash on the street or smiling at a stranger, it's still something

Women....

Women, I don't get them. Yes, I know it should be easier for me since I am one of them but it's not. I grew up a tomboy, I didn't really start befriending women until high school and it honestly caused me nothing but trouble! I have a hard time trusting most women. In my experience I always end up getting burnt a lot more by my female friends than their male counterparts. I'm not being sexist this is just my point of view. I've had the 'friends' that stole my boyfriends and spread rumors about me. Those who have took advantage of me and tossed me out on the street like a piece of used furniture. My best friends that I have now are three women. They seem to be a different breed than the ones I have met previously. They have all been through the same things as I have. For the past 2, almost 3 years, I have grown to become family with these girls. To me this is a big accomplishment. I had a large lack of trust for all females even when I first began regularly hanging out with "the girls." Hell, I still have a lack of trust for most of the females out there. No offense to you female reader, hopefully you understand where I am coming from. I let my guard down and ended up falling in love with my girls. They are all very important to me and I love them like they were my sisters. So the thing is we have a regular ladies night. Every week we get together and hang out, It's been tradition since we first started hanging out again. I've been okay with others coming to be part of our ladies night. Usually they don't actually come regularly so it makes it better in my mind. We have a girl though, who keeps coming with. She is a good person and she means well. She was invited to tag along with one of my friends and has proceeded to invite herself to the ladies night. It's not quite a big deal my problem with her is that she annoys the hell out of one of the other girls and myself at sometimes. She tends to dominate conversations and is very pretentious. I also don't really trust her. She has done nothing to me to make me not trust her, it's just a feeling that I have. I know I should be willing and open to accepting her into the group, I just can't. I don't want one person who was not officially invited to join our ladies night to ruin it for the others. I usually have taken the role of our leader. This is by default, I started the tradition and usually no one else tends to step up to the position unless it's necessary. I feel like it is my responsibility to talk to the other girls to see how they feel about letting her keep coming or not. I just don't want to be the one to tell her. I have had the "talk" before with other girls that just weren't working out. It's like breaking up every time and I hate it. It's a lot more difficult to explain to someone that it's not you, it's us. I also don't want to be put in the position where I am always the one to have to let the odd ducks know that they are out. I feel like that might make any other new or drop in girls not want to talk to me. It seems silly but I don't really know what to do. So what are some opinions on how to solve this problem without being seen as the party pooper? While we're at it how can I encourage the other girls to step up and take the leader position as well?

Age matters?

I found an article online today which pissed me off. It was saying that my generation, the "Y's", have no culture. That we are lazy and spoiled individuals. Which is not surprising at all since every generation has a better time pointing out the flaws of the newest generation. The thing that really made me upset was just the generalization of us. According to the article we are dependent on MTV, we have horrible music and have contributed nothing to society. I hate MTV. I agree that there is horrible music out there but hasn't there been in all generations? They missed out on the pure fact that there is actually a growing scene of music out there, not just emo shit. The generation that I am part of has not had any time to flourish and grow. Yes there are some of us that fit these stereotypical views but most of us try to stay away from being like that. Once we do grow we can accomplish more to influence society and culture. I work hard with my 40 hours a week. I have been supporting myself without any help and am not lazy. I wonder who is to blame for the lack of culture and spoiled lazy generation they have such an easy time slamming. Hmmmm... could it be them? Well of course! Who brought up this generation? Who should have instilled them with culture to want to make it grow now a days? Who let them become lazy and spoiled? Their god damn parents. The generations before that raised us has an obvious impact on us. Just as other generations have had on them. They have such an easy time skimming off the top of our generation and not going more in depth onto what else we have contributed besides The Hills. It makes me so upset that they couldn't even point out one positive thing. I really hope that I don't end up like that with the next generation, although the thought of how they will be scares the hell out of me!

Extreme Pumpage

I am pumped! That's right people, pumped. It's finally nice in Minnesota, it's about time! The sun is shining and birds are singing! I can't help but to get excited. The downside is that I have this whole work thing. I hate being stuck indoors when it's this beautiful outside. I wonder how people who have offices with windows do it. If I had to stare outside all day at the lovely weather I would go insane! I already feel like throwing a hissy fit like a small child so I am allowed to play outside! I remember as a kid I was completely content playing indoors than risking burning to a crisp. Which is bound to happen since I am extremely pale! It's weird how your views change as you grow up. I feel more like a kid now than I ever have. I want to do so much this summer. I even made a list. Yes I am one of those people. I strive a lot better when I have a list in hand. My memory is not exactly the best, I usually say I want to do things and then it doesn't happen. The reason for my extreme pumpage is I am going to be part of my first art fair. The Red Hot Art Fair is on May 31st to June 1st. If you're in Minneapolis, you should stop by and show your support. There is going to be a lot of great artist out there! I can't wait, this is the first time most of my art will be viewed by people other than my friends. I haven't had a lot of time to actually write on here because I am either working on art or planning out ideas lately. Plus, I don't really have a lot to rant about. I am way too pumped for this thing! Yea!!!

strong drinks bring me happiness

After a dreadfully, long day at work yesterday, I headed to the bar right by my work. It's a dinky little place. There are beaded curtains covering the windows. It smells like humus from the Indian restaurant that is connected to it. I worked my way to the bar immediately and nodded at a few of the regulars that I've seen in there before. I use to hate going to the bar alone, but I figured if it's a block or two from my apartment it's definitely okay. I order a long island since they make them quite strong for me here since I tip well. They're playing blues over the sound system and a few movies on the televisions scattered through out with subtitles on. I pound down my long island and order another one. The bartender glances at me since he knows I don't pound them that quick unless it's been one of those days. Hell I usually don't come here unless it's one of those days! He asks me whats wrong, as I watch him pour a little extra of each liquor into a bigger glass for me. I just answer simply life. He sets down my drink and heads off to serve a few older gentlemen on the other side of the bar. When he comes back around he sets a jar of olives in front of me and tells me to eat them. I love olives and I've stated this to him before during one of our small talks. I think I ordered a martini one day and he laughed at me since they definitely don't serve them here. I told him I just like the olives not the actual drink. So since then on he's had a jar that he'll break out when he sees me come in like this. I think it's pretty sweet, usually I'd assume he was hitting on me. Since I have met his boyfriend when I went to the other bar (which is very gay friendly) on the block by my house, I know better! In between his orders he asks me how I'm doing and although I shouldn't I order yet another strong long island I end up doing so anyways. He puts this one in a regular size glass and I pout at him a little. Once I finish my drink I ask for my tab. He gives me the slip as I'm breaking out my wallet. When I look at it I see he only charged me for one drink. I look at him and ask why. He tells me, "it's been one of those days for me too and I figured it's the least I can do". I thank him and tell him I hope things look up, as he walks away to help a bouncy blond who's trying to hit on him. I'm always in awe with the generosity of people some times. I guess it's more of a bigger thing to me since I've been living here in Minneapolis, since it's rare to see here. I smile to myself as I look down at my five dollar bar tab. I grab a few olives and throw down a twenty. As I walk out he yells out to see if I needed change. I tell him, "it's the least I can do". Once I go home I lay in bed smiling, feeling way better than I did before. Thank god for strong drinks!

mistaken

The rain poured down as I walked into work today. I hate walking in the rain, I would much rather be walking in the snow. It's a weird concept but a very reasonable personal choice of mine. Anyways, as I'm walking with my head down I completely crash into this chick, I mean crash. It was not a bump and it was definitely not graceful in any way, shape or form. I sent her and her Macy's bags flying to the ground. She's shorter, with brown hair perfectly pinned back in a bun. She's wearing a teal rain jacket and pitch black skinny jeans. I notice her pick up her huge sunglasses first, my first thought is my god she's one of them! You know the type, the stuck up fashion crazed girls who shop for fun. I never understood that concept. As I picked myself up and helped her gather her things she looked at me with a odd glance. She gasped and squealed, "Dana?!!!" I looked around to see if she was talking to someone else but no she was looking at me. "Ummm no," I replied. "Oh come on Dana, Edina High class of 97," she said desperately, "It's me Julianna!" I kept giving her a blank stare. "You don't remember me do you," she quietly said glaring at the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm not Dana you must have me mistaken for someone else," I say quickly, lighting up a smoke in between words. She now has tears in her eyes, I thought it was just the rain at first but no it's tears. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just don't know anyone here," she said gasping as she spoke. I gave her a look of pity and walked away. I didn't really know what to say to her. I can't help it if I'm not Dana and I sure as hell wasn't going to pretend to be. I just felt so bad for the girl who seemingly had everything but was grasping out for a friend. As I started walking the rest of the way to work I couldn't help but to think about her. Did she really not have any friends? Couldn't she have met one of her type at Macy's? Is that horrible to think? I looked back and she was sitting on the sidewalk with her bags surrounding her like a shell. Her face was in her hands and her body looked like it was slightly trembling. I guess part of her wanted me to be Dana way more than I may ever know.

Here you are...

I promised a glimpse of who I am to those of you who have been faithful readers of mine over the past few month. I'm happy that someone at least appreciates (or deals with) my rambling. So here you are... not quite an impressive photo, but I try! More rambling to come, you can count on that!!!!! I've just been getting over a cold, plus I had a root canal on monday. Thank you again for reading! And yes that's a usual self pic pose... don't judge me!

Okay I lie... well I was bored

Here's a short story I threw together due to boredom of the sickness. There is really only so much I can do when I'm sick. Pretty much brought to you by cough drops and extra strength cold medicine. Enjoy! ***I must warn you, I swear like a sailor when I'm drugged up!

What the fuck is her name? Come on it’s in there, you remember don’t you? Blame it on the bad memory, I guess. The pure fact you were wasted and spent most of the time obviously staring at her breast probably didn’t help. Are you even sure this is her? The girl you were talking to? I mean she’s hot, but who the fuck knows! Did you actually look at her face while you were running your mouth trying to get her in bed? Damn it. Well she’s in your bed and you have no clue what her name is. Her blond hair splayed out over your nasty old pillow. She has dark circles under her eyes from last night’s makeup. After peaking under the blankets you realize that yes, she’s naked. She looks amazing naked. Nice, but you don’t even remember fucking her. Did you fuck her? Maybe she drugged you and took advantage of your drugged up state. Yeah right. Why the hell would she do that? You look over at a glass and take a sip, spitting it back out after realizing it was vodka and not water. Fucking harsh vodka, you can still feel it in your mouth from last night. It mixes against your morning breath making you taking a few seconds to cough the taste off. Why would you want that this morning? You carefully throw back the blankets, trying hard not to wake up the chick in your bed. You’re light headed and the room spins for a while before you can get your balance. Carelessly grabbing those nasty boxers off the floor, you sneak off to the bathroom. The light flickers on slowly and you wipe off the grunge of the mirror so you can see yourself. God that’s nasty, you remember why you want to move out of this shit hole you call home. You look like shit, hair sticking straight up and drool staining the slide of your cheek. You have a huge bruise on your chest, which is only exaggerated by a gash running down your arm. That definitely should be something you’d remember. The blood is dried on to your flesh and as you wash it off it stings like a bitch. Damn, what the hell happened? You remember talking to the girl that’s assumingly in your bed over a smoke outside. The two of you headed back into the party to take a shot. Of course you were trying to impress her even though you’re not a shot kind of guy. That’s it though, nothing more after that point. So you blacked out, right? Not like that’s the first time or anything. You finish cleaning yourself up and take a piss. You glance at yourself one more time, shaking your head before you stumble into the living room. Damn you look rough! The living room looks like a sea filled with people. There are articles of clothing lying about. A few people embracing the person next to them, their bodies meshed together. There are others lying curled up alone, looking like they wanted the warmth of someone else but passed out before they could achieve that goal. After rummaging through the countless amounts of passed out people, you find what you remember to be her purse. How the hell do you remember her purse and not her name? Well that’s beyond you. You look around to make sure no one sees you carrying her purse into the hall. Shit they’re all out, why do you even bother? After unzipping the thing you find a wallet on top, bingo! There it is, her id staring you in the face. Yes, that’s the one, the girl sleeping in your bed. Melissa, she’s 23 and an organ donor. Well that settles that question, thank god! You wonder if the other question you have about last night will be answered. You also wonder if you really care or would want to know. You set down her purse and wonder back to your room, crashing back on your bed. There goes being sneaky! She moans and tosses the blankets off of her head. She stretches her arms, exposing her breasts. She glances over at you with those green eyes still full of sleep. “Shit what happened,” she asks, “and I’m sorry but who the hell are you?”

I know, I know....

Since I seemingly have little to rant about and this god awful cold that has me laid out for week now. It seems like it might be a bit longer! So I figured I would open up both blogs to questions for the week. I should be back to top condition with tons to say but for now it's all up for grabs... Questions can be honestly about anything, and I promise will give an honest answer. The possibilities are endless! Thank you, you might get a lovely prize for best question! No pressure now!