Saturday, April 21, 2012


I’m in Ohio for a tournament this week.  It was a long drive, followed by long days, and long nights.  Filling the time has been with stories.  Stories like how it wasn’t until after I was 5 or 6 years old that my mother would let me play with other kids.  So, I did what any child would do.  I used my imagination.  It was just a silly and laughable story about how the red fire-hydrant in front of our apartment was my friend.  I told a couple of people about how it and I would spend hours playing ice-cream-parlor.  And how I would be called in, if a neighbor kid came out to see what I was doing.  …This, has been a long trip.

There seem to be a million synonyms for that word, “trip.”  Journey.  Stumble.  Falter.  Set Back.  Hallucinate, as in “trip out” or “bad trip.”  This…  has certainly been a bad trip.  And one that has really instilled the knowledge in me, that I will NOT be repeating such a trip again.  There will be NO amount of begging that could EVER be successful in convincing me to do this another year.

Being a nontraditional student is not the most pleasant of experiences as it is.  There is this odd balance to be found of who you are supposed to view as your peers.  Are you supposed to consider those your age your peers?  Meaning your professors?  (especially when you have had friends for YEARS whom happen to also be professors.)  Or do you consider your classmates peers?  Who are ten years, or more, younger than you?  You tend to get looks of “Act more mature,” from the professors, when you spark a report with the one demographic, and then contradicting looks of, “why aren’t you bonding with the rest of the ‘kids,’” if you don’t.  You are supposed to “set an example” in how to behave, and yet, you are treated as if you are an ignorant child in almost every simplistic task before you.  And the “kids” look at you like you have this odd pocket sized handbook for life because you’re older.  There is a generation gap somewhere that just can’t be erased.  You do not belong to either party.

Being thirty in this environment isn’t easy.  And yes, I’ve smiled, and put on false “happy” tones here and there.  And yes I AM happy to be back at school, and that it’s been successful.   And NO I don’t like when 19 or 20 year olds bark orders at me…  or when I have to adjust to close quarters with a bunch of people who all have very different habits and consider your habits to be the most strange or inconvenient.

So here I am, thirty years old.  In my pajamas.  In a strange town.  Sitting on the floor, in a hallway of a hotel, while drunk men keep walking past me the way to their rooms.  Typing away, because it is apparently the only place that my keyboard clicking won’t annoy others.

I’ve…  I’m not sure what to do anymore.

I lost a friend this last week.  …not really sure what happened.  Last year, I was told “You’re too negative.”  I was told I was bringing people down.  Apparently my failing health, financial difficulties, and having a slew of people I knew die—was too much for several of my friends to deal with.  So they walked.  Including this particular friend for a while.  Which I don’t understand because, other than facebook…  I don’t tend to open up to people on an emotionally connected level very often.  Sure I tell stories but can’t do much else.  They’re just stories.  You won’t see the pain behind them.  …but I was too negative.  So I made some adjustments.  I tried to make sure to post good things.  REALLY GOOD things as often as possible.  And at least I would post them alongside the bad posts, if there had to be bad posts.  And I was recently told those SAME people that exiled me for being a “downer” are now envious of my “good fortune.”  What a confusing place to be…  What a confusing reason to lose friends.

I’ve been seeing a councilor, as mentioned in previous posts—through the school—to work through some of my issues on opening up to people.  You see, it was thought that maybe the reason I have such trouble with relationships in general, whether romantic or platonic, is that I hold everyone at arm’s length.  How can’t I?  I get shunned for telling people if I’m depressed, I get jealous reactions if I’m not…  GOD I miss that fire-hydrant.  But I’ve made some progress in my sessions.  Oodles.  Hell I even let myself CRY INFRONT OF MY COUCILOR LAST WEEK!!!!  (*insert gasp of shock here!)  THIS is how difficult it is.  After MONTHS of therapy, I still can barely cry in a safe environment in front of a person who is PAID to make people feel comfortable with crying?  How stupid is that?

So, tonight…  after having two days worth of time for some harsher circumstances to build up…  like my left side not working and having a literal “trip” getting out of the shower.  After feeling I’m here, but not really “involved” or really that wanted/welcome… feeling I’m consistently hindering others, where they can eat, when they can sleep, how they behave…  I’m just done with the whole experience.  In the words of Danny Glover, “I’m getting to old for this shit.”  Because tonight, I read something that just drove an extra nail through my heart.  Something that is only going to make the rest of this trip all the harder.  And I can’t say what it is, because, well I just can’t.  It’s too personal.  All I can say is after having read it… I want to cry until my eyes bleed.

So here I am, pouring this out to the great void of space that is the internet.  Because…  it’s that shiny new make-believe friend.  Because in the words of my grandmother, “No one wants to hear the bad stuff,” and I’m “ugly when I cry.”  Because, as it turns out, no one wants to hear the good stuff either.  All these months of working with a councilor to convince myself that it’s possible for me to open up to people and let those barriers down.  That there’s hope for me to be able to share a living space with someone again someday…  gone.  I can’t even survive ONE WEEKEND sharing a hotel room with others.  Getting married again?  Ha!  And the only person I could remotely open up to about ANY of it, my friends and teammates banished me to a hallway in order to be able to type out my conversation to.

It’s past 4 in the morning, and the birds are waking up outside the windows, while I’m sitting with a numb left side as payment to the hard floor.  But I can’t sleep.  And maybe tomorrow I will be fine.  Maybe next week I’ll find some stupid sliver of hope to make a connection with flesh and blood again, that I failed to squash out tonight.  But for now…  In this moment, how I feel?  I have no desire to make new friends anymore.  I don’t want to date anyone or try my hand at romance.  I’m slipping back to just wanting to move in to my own place, finish my degree, and be left alone.  This whole concept of making friends in real life is just…  I don’t understand people.  Fire-hydrants were far less complicated.

Monday, April 9, 2012


I have this odd little quirk, where holidays and special occasions tend to not bode well for me.  I don’t know what strange twist of karma has deemed it so that I have this streak of bad luck on such days, but this Easter has struck me with yet another kidney stone.  (New Year’s Day, was the last time I was honored with the presence of one.)  And though there are moments reminiscent of Jim Carrey’s bathroom scene in Liar Liar, inspiring me to yell “Owie!,” truthfully, I’ve had worse Easter Sundays.  I’m writing this blog as a method of distraction by way of concentrating on more positive things.  And a hell of a lot has happened.


Or…  just moving.  :D  I’m getting my own place.  Come May, I’ll have my very own 2 bedroom place!  I’ll have so much room I won’t know what to do with myself!  I don’t think I can accurately express my excitement over this.  I already have big plans for decorating, displaying my geek paraphernalia, and hosting movie nights, amongst other things.

I want to say, straight off, that I’ve had little reason to complain about my most recent roommate experience.  In fact, I love my current roommate.  We get along just fine.  But this is the first time I’ve TRULY been comfortable with a roommate.  And through various other shared living space experiences, I’ve developed a list of the things I’m looking forward to.

The first and foremost being CLEAN!  No dishes sitting in the sink, or piles of random crap littered about the living room or on the kitchen table.  No potato chip crumbs left on the floor to be ground into the carpet, or sugar on floors and counters.  (Which oddly enough, the sugar thing, has happened repeatedly with MULTIPLE roommate pairings.)  Point is, I can invite company over, whenever I want without being embarrassed for how my home is presented.  Which leads me to my next point.

The second thing I’m looking forward to?  Company.  I can invite people over, without having to check with anyone, or feel guilty about me and my friends using the living room/tv.  If I have a friend that I feel comfortable with just entering the apt without knocking, I can allow that.  When we do use the living room my friends and I won’t have to sit on the floor because all of the other seats are taken.  No one will make rules about who I can have over, when, and what we’re allowed to do or not.  (<- - see college experience #1 for that one.)

Three?  Life Uncensored!  Modesty be damned.  I like being able to walk from my bedroom to my bathroom nekked if I so feel.  I like being able to make a late night snack, or watch tv, topless if the mood so strikes me.  Sure, it isn’t that big of a deal to throw on a robe when living with someone.  I have a small collection of robes going at this point.  But when it comes to those warm summer nights when you want to sleep with the bedroom door open to create a cross breeze through the apartment, or those winter nights when flu season is in full swing and there isn’t time for a robe as you make a mad dash to the toilet?  I think you catch my drift.  There are just those random occasions when being alone has its advantages to wardrobe and modesty.

Four…  Dating.  I know that sounds AWEFULLY contradictory with my last post.  And believe me, there’s no one I’m currently interested in.  Or interested in me, (aside from a handful of creepy assholes.)  But I’m going to play the “what if” card here.  And I’m going to try and play it while keeping perspective.  Because despite how I try…   I suppose I do kinda want some romance in my life.  I’ve just…  I don’t know.  Saying I’ve given up seems too pessimistic a statement.  And I’m not going to go into a rant in this paragraph to try and figure it out.  Bottom line would be, if someone DOES come into my life, I want a safe and relaxed place for us to spend time together, watch movies, have dinner.  A place in which all of my previous 3 points would apply once more.  I don’t want to have to feel awkward about asking roommates for space just to get some cuddle time in.  I don’t want to be embarrassed by mess or concern myself with privacy.

Five.  I can finally have things the way I want them.  My dishes, and silverware, matching and complete.  My shelves full of books, in which ever room I like.  My furniture, and my blankets.  My everything.

OTHER GOOD NEWS: in abundance

It would seem I’m on a fast track of academic success.  A few months back, I received an email from one of my professors from first semester.  She was impressed with a piece I wrote for her class so much that she had decided to nominate me for the Superior Writer’s Award through the university.  Last week, I received contact that not only did I win, but I won FIRST PLACE for my category.  There will be an awards ceremony on Thursday in which I will be presented with an award and a short commentary will be given about me and my writing.

Next up?  I receive another email, not one week later, telling me that I am in the top 15% of my class.  That I will be receiving invitation to some honor’s society something or other, and congratulating me on my hard efforts.

To add to that, next week I will be travelling to Ohio, as I’ve made it to Nationals for competitive speech in the poetry category.  (Fingers crossed on this final competition of the year.)


So, I guess it’s been a pretty good past bit.  Kidney stones or no, I’ve had some success health wise.  Since my little cancer scare last fall, my doctor has been pretty active with watching the details of my health.  And after a cholesterol screening, I was put on a rather strict temporary diet for 3 months (which will end in may.)

Altogether, since starting this diet, I will admit I do feel healthier.  There are days when the problems I have with my left side are barely noticeable or even nonexistent.  I’ve lost a bit of weight, and I’ve started a new exercise routine to help that continue.  But it hasn’t been easy.  Healthy food can be expensive, and I’m currently unemployed and stressing some over that.  Some may ask what happened at this point as you know I recently had an acting gig going.  In short?  I didn’t like how I would witness the owner act one way to peoples’ faces, and another behind their backs.  I didn’t like that I’ve invested a TON of money in my costume and multiple tanks of gas, but only made 50 bucks so far after HOURS upon HOURS of work.  So I told them where to shove it.  I don’t need that stress.  (Especially after a line was dropped to the cast that there are “30 people willing to take your roles.”  Which is some Walmart fear tactic BS.)  So I told them where to figuratively shove it.  But I'm doing just fine financially all the same.  I have enough to last me until finding a job closer to home so long as I watch things closely.

What really makes the diet difficult is the weather.  DEAR GOD!  This weather has been…  nothing short of paradise.  To hear air conditioners running in MARCH in Wisconsin is CRAZY.  To see your facebook newsfeed flood with pictures and statements from friends on Saint Patrick’s Day about sunburns is all the more insane!  To hear the sizzle of brats on the frat boys’ grills and smell bacon cheeseburgers wafting through the windows, when you can only have whole grains and vegetables?  TORTURE!  The good news is, my diet should end mid May.  And though I will continue to watch my cholesterol, it will be a much less strict diet.  Just in time for summer and my new apartment, which will be celebrated, perhaps, with a night of fondue and wine.  (YOU try living in Wisconsin and being told you can’t have cheese!) 

Anyway.  I’m looking forward to May.  REALLY looking forward to it.  The new AVENGERS movie will be out.  I will have successfully finished my first year of college, and I will have my own new place.  If only to round up a few friends, for some horseback riding and other frivolous ventures, it promises to be a very good summer indeed.

Holiday luck be damned.