I'm a glutton for punishment

I've officially been bitten by the Christmas spirit. Between the parade of ice storms, tacky red and green paraphernalia, the nauseating T.V. specials, and a kitchen full of chocolate covered sugar-rushes, it finally feels like Christmas.

I went to a Christmas/Escape-Our-Present-Lives party in Maryland this weekend with some of my college friends. We are all basically in similar situations so it was good for all of us to get away, hang out, drink, and be merry. And now I'm awaiting the inevitable emergence of flattering pictures they can blackmail me with later.

But at least Baby Jesus is happy...


I'm getting nothing but a bushel of coal for Christmas this year. If Santa existed I would be on the Naughty list for sure.

I have no regrets, perhaps I was tired of trying to please everyone else and wanted to escape from their claustrophobic barriers. After living by myself for so long, I discovered my ability to make my life my own, even if it meant going against what I have been told to believe was wrong.

But you know, maybe it isn't.

Books and B*tches

I forgot I wanted to upload this picture from my birthday last week. Hilarious.


A dignified reappearance of last year's party hat a beloved co-worker gave me. This picture is probably the highlight of the "celebration" though. It was the first birthday that I actually didn't have any presents to open. I don't really care either... just further indication that I'm getting old.

Anyway, I did build some new bookcases for my personal growing library.


This picture, however, doesn't give off the mesmerizing effect one gets when entering my room now. And these aren't all of my books either. Many are in various locations being borrowed, and I myself am reading about 3 at the same time, besides the fact that I just noticed the picture cut off the ends. And there are about 10 more on a list that I know I want.

Books - my weakness, my passion, my ecstasy. I stand in front of these full shelves and gaze longingly at each title, wanting to read them all at once, study them, live them. Newton would be proud.

"Sing me to sleep; I don't want to wake up on my own anymore."

The rings under my eyes are getting darker and puffier, and the time spent lying in crooked positions underneath uneven blankets is getting longer and longer. This whole "not sleeping" thing makes it hard for me to wake up.

It doesn't help when this overcast weather chock full of rain predictions makes high noon look just as bleak as the middle of the night. Or rather the corresponding projection to the inside of my head; a myriad of thoughts awaken as I wearily toss and turn. No matter the extent of my exhaustion, I am roused by a strange burden for people.

Confused, concerned, and simply wondering, I relive past conversations, and envision future connections. I'm always terrified of losing touch, especially from irrelevant (or nothing) circumstances. But I can never maintain focus and thus am never able to bring closure, so every night I am revisited by the inevitable.

I had the most intense gig I ever had to do last night. I was asked to play with two others a 3-part flute selection at a memorial service. All went well, but we were at the end of the program, which means everyone's emotions have been building up for the last 3 hours with the saddest things anyone can stand to deal with.

It was a little disturbing when the mother of the recently passed 29-year-old told me beforehand that her daughter will be on the stage with us, making music together. I'm not very consoling, despite my strange desire to help people. But I did get to see my former flute teacher (smokes like a chimney but can certainly make an instrument sing) who told me he is glad to still see me with flute in hand. Now I have a rekindled inspiration to keep playing, and be as good as I used to be, or better. I want to get my hands on new, more challenging music and give myself something to work for. But we'll see how long my stimulation lasts.

"One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important."

I currently have no future. I have no job, which means I have no money, which means I am stuck at my parent's house, which means I have no life. And in about 4 days I will officially be an old woman... with no health insurance.

So it's no wonder I nearly had a nervous breakdown last night. What frustrated me the most was the fact my parents offered to pick up my loan bills until I got myself situated (this was one of the selling points they gave me to leave my job in Georgia). But when my first two bills came I had to pay them anyway.

And everyone's been diving down my throat about it all, stressing me out about things I am already aware of. If anyone mentions this real life bullshit to me one more time, I will officially be pissed off. It's not like I haven't tried... I hate to think that I put myself in this much debt going to an expensive school and literally working myself towards hospitalization for nothing.

I remember thinking once I graduated the stress would be gone too. *rolls eyes* What really has me frustrated is the very people telling me "I need to find a job" (well, yeah no shit) all have jobs, and are married, and living far away from here, and basically have lives, and plans, and a future. So excuse me if things don't work out so perfectly for me right away.