Take me away from this big, bad world

I spent the entire day nursing a bottle of wine worth of hangover.

I saw some guy wearing a Michigan shirt today, and it bummed me out hard. Which is silly, I suppose. But it pretty much tied the last noose knot on an already shit day.

I was pretty sad I wasn't in the mood to go shooting, because it was a pretty spectacular sunset. Crepuscular rays all about the thing, shooting out from the biggest, fluffiest clouds. But I felt foul and didn't want to walk around, or risk being forced to interact with people.

I'm taking a few days off of work. I went in today and told my boss that I just feel burnt out and horrible, and I need a break. She happily gave it to me, and I'm looking forward to it immensely.

On the plus side, I got some funky new nail polish (doing my nails was a glorious twenty minutes of mind-numbing activity with the bonus of pretty at the end), I Skyped with Amber, and I listened to a lot of really good music. I remembered how much I like Blur, and I'm currently listening to Coffee and TV. Also, lucky me, I have two fat cats that are smothering me with affection.

I'm about to go to sleep, but I do have a lazy as fuck day planned tomorrow. Full of watching Labyrinth, because Allen found me this kind of awesome fanfiction story that makes a shitload of sense, and I Want to watch and think about that back story while I do.

She stopped to think for a minute, and in a split second went AWOL.

I'm pretty sure that I'm going to quit drinking.

I'm revamping just about every single aspect of my life, and have been for quite some time. Well, I say quite some time, but that really means a few months. I want to get back into shape, so I started running again a month ago. I wanted to get my life on track because I've been directionless for far too long, so I put myself in school, gave Allen custody of Gabriel (though I did that awhile ago), and started preparing myself to move and be my own person again. I'm slowly starting to be a bit better about eating (for instance, actually EATING). I've been negligent about making a big step to get help to make everything better in my head, but I've finally done that, too. What's left is quitting smoking (and I'm really excited to let that go. But for right now, it's a crutch that I really need, because it's familiar and I suppose it's one of those odd extensions of how much my insides hurt, and I know how much smoking hurts me, and I'm just trying to make everything match. It's a comforting form of a long, slow death, and it's the only form of self-harm I can justify), and giving up booze. Which will absolutely suck. I love drinking. But that's the problem. I've been leaning on drinking heavily for the last month and some change, and especially the last few days. That's unwise, unhealthy, and stupid. So, while smoking and drinking have been gorgeous security blankets, I have to give them up at some point. Drinking goes first.

Perhaps giving up drinking also has to do with the fact that I've been pretty solidly drunk since Friday night.

HOWEVER, I had a shitload of fun this weekend.

Recap!

Friday was my birthday. I hate being 29, because it's boarding the ship to 30. And the thought of being 30 scared me, up until a few days ago. I started reflecting on the things I've accomplished thus far, and they're not landmarks that most people would herald as monumental, but I do. And then I started thinking about how reinventing yourself at 30 takes a shitload of balls, and that's it really ok to be who I am and where I am, because I won't be there for much longer, and when I'm done, I'll be a different person. I'll still be me, but a better version. So being 29 is ok. I don't mind now. Moving on...

Like I said, Friday was my birthday. I worked for half of the day (which was actually very nice. Sara baked me a beautiful cake, and bought me a bouquet of flowers. Such lovely presents!), went home, had lunch with Allen, ran, and got ready to go out with Tosh. We went to Union Station to watch a friend's son's band play (I do enjoy Sarita, but I did not in any way enjoy the music. Not one bit. I had a few drinks, and it improved nothing. Tosh and I kept glancing at each other and giggling over the words), and then stayed behind after the show for just a little bit to chat with Adrianne, Sarita, and Maggie. We had another show to be at, so we didn't stay long.

Joe's band played at Rhino's, and they were so awesomely funky. Joe is an older guy that works on Tosh's team, and I've only ever seen him as a very professional real estate agent. Friday was a complete 180. He was wearing a loose button down and a jaunty little cap, and very, very role-fitting sunglasses. I loved it. Joe sat and talked with me and Tosh during their set break, and Joe gave me a bit of advice and paid me a couple of compliments. Which was lovely. When their set started again, I was blown away by how fun and unexpected their sound was. Tosh and I sang along and danced and had an absolute blast. But we had a few people we knew were waiting for us to get downtown, so we slipped out after hanging out for a bit less than an hour.

The streets downtown were closed off for outdoor volleyball (which I didn't hate watching for a few minutes. Not even a little bit. Thanks for not wearing shirts, guys! YAY!), so Tosh and I had to park fairly far away. But we walked to Gasoline Alley and watched volleyball on the way, and I made the mistake of telling some guy I liked the Giants shirt he was wearing. He responded with, "I like your shirt too, baby." to which I said, "EW." and felt gross. We met up with Chris at the bar, got our drinks, and then Tosh and I decided that tonight wouldn't just be about my birthday, it would be Operation Ladyfriend for Chris. But he didn't want to play along. That didn't stop us from trying, and we had fun trying to play wingman, even if he made it retarded hard for us. There was some sort of contest going on on the very first level of the bar, and beer pong going on on the second level, and we were on the top floor, where a drunk guy in a sombrero was walking up to people, making weird, weird faces, and then moving on to the next group. The sombrero guy was harshing my buzz, beer pong had WAY too long a line, and whatever contest was going on wasn't holding our attention. So, we all killed our drinks and went to The Thirsty Parrot. Tosh keeps telling me that it's her favorite bar, and I cannot figure out why. We have the WORST luck when we go there. It's always way too fucking packed to get a drink, and people there are dickbags. We sat for a few minutes trying to find someone for Chris, but that didn't work out the way that we wanted, so we left. And leaving took ten minutes, because it was like a sardine can in there. A sweaty, pulsing, noisy sardine can where all of the sardines are trying to fuck each other.

Tosh and I looked at each other once we were outside and decided it was time to dance. This was at 11:30. So, we went to The Mansion, didn't have to wait in line OR pay the cover, which was fucking fantastic, went upstairs (where they play 80's and early 90's music on a dance floor that lights up like a Simon Says board. I fucking LOVE the second floor of The Mansion), ordered drinks, slammed them, and then got to dancing. And we danced and danced and danced. We were having so much fucking fun. Chris didn't want to dance, despite us begging and begging him to loosen up and go dance with the girl we picked out for him.

Tosh and I, several drinks in:

She is SO much shorter than me, I had to hunch over. It's black and white to hide as best as possible how red with alcohol our faces were.

We went back to dancing, and a couple of guys started dancing with us. We danced with them until the club closed, and then we all decided we wanted to grab something to eat, because we had been drinking and dancing for the last few hours, and obviously we were all drunk hungry. Drungry? That's too many r's and it sounds bizarre, but I do love invented word conglomerates. Chris left us after The Mansion closed, so it was just the five of us left. We walked down to King's Chef, and after we all sat down and Tosh and I decided what we wanted to eat, the guys bribed us into going to Thai Lily. It was a bit of a drive, and the guy that I had been dancing with decided he wanted to drive with Tosh and I. So the three of us walked all the way back to my car, and Tosh and I made him listen to the CD we had made especially for nights when we go out (we call it the White Girl Wasted CD, and it's full of 80's and 90's pop music). He told me I had an amazing singing voice, and Tosh agreed. Hooray! We all had a great time on the drive over to Thai Lily.

Thai Lily is my new favorite place. I had never heard of it, but it caters specifically to drungry patrons. One of the guys was pretty fucking regular there, enough to know the names of the people who worked there, and we all got a discount on our food. Tosh and the other two guys ordered foods of varying spice, and when they arrived, it smelled like hell pain. Fuck. It smelled so god damn spicy that I almost felt a little bit sick to my stomach. I had that weird twinge going on. My food, however, was delightful. We all dug in to each other's plates, sampling everything and regretting the hot bites. The fellow I had been dancing with didn't order anything, but tried everybody's food just the same. The middle of the table was a disaster area by the time we all decided to leave. Tosh and I had so much fucking fun. They made us laugh because they were so fucking silly; it was an awesome way to end the night. I dropped Tosh off at her house, and then I went to hang out with the three boys and watch really awful movies.

I got home at about 5:30 am, fell asleep at 6, and then woke up at 10. I took a mini nap an hour later, woke up, got dressed, and then went and hung out with Allen, Stevie, and Chris (because Tosh and I both decided that hiking could go fuck itself). I had a fucking marvelous steak sandwich that calmed down what was actually a gloriously perfect hangover, and because I hadn't made enough wonderfully bad choices in the last 24 hours, I indulged in more alcohol. Stevie and I made plans to go back downtown later for a few drinks and to take pictures of drunk people in front of the various art installations littered around the streets.

I met up with Courtney last night for a few drinks and had a great time catching up with her. Stevie bailed on going downtown because something she ate didn't agree with her, and that actually worked out INSANELY well for me, because I was EXHAUSTED, due to sleeping for a grand total of 8 hours in the last 48. I went home from the bar and crashed at 11, waking up at 8 this morning feeling mostly fantastic.

And now here I am. At work, on this foggy, bleak day, blogging. I have my other two blogs to write in, as well, and I'm on to write in those next. But this is a magnificent writing day. I'm planning on going home, bundling up with a nice mug of chai, and writing some more of my genre story. I've been plugging away nicely at that, and if I keep this up, I'll have my story finished in a couple of weeks.

This was quite long, but I feel like I'm all caught up now.

We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say

So.

I have been listening to a shitload of Sage Francis for the last few days to try and lift me out of this horribly, terribly, awful sad funk that I'm in now. It's helping, marginally. It helps while I'm listening to his music, because as always, the words resonate, and they express what I can't put into coherent sentences. Particularly Bridle.

Anyway, I sent him a message a few days ago telling him what's been going on, and how sad I feel, and how I'm listening to his music and it's helping me out.

AND HE FUCKING WROTE BACK TO ME.

Silver lining, I guess?

But I have been so tickled over this all day (I read it at 5 this morning on my way home from my birthday extravaganza. Which I will write about). I wrote him back, of course. I don't think he'll respond. But that's ok, he responded once, and it was thoughtful and kind and empathetic. And it was from Sage Francis. It made me happy.

Jesus Christ, last night was wild as fuck. I am on my way back out to go have drinks with Courtney and Anali, but here's a picture from last night, because I was drunk and awesome:

This labyrinth and all its magnificence can only keep the mice trapped; The princess is innocent, she doesn't belong.

I had planned on staying up and playing Fable, but I'm quite tired and glum, so I'm going to write this and go to sleep.

The weather was incredibly bi-polar today. This morning, it was oppressively hot. This afternoon, clouds rolled in with a wonderfully cool breeze, and it rained. When I got off of work, the clouds were blanketed across the sky. Tosh and I wanted to run before it rained really hard, so we didn't waste any time waiting for Jessica (smart! Because she bailed. Again). Tosh has been complaining of her ankles burning, so I ran the last stretch without her, and I logged my fastest mile this year so far at 6:45. It felt fucking awesome. I made my way back to where she was, and she said I look like a gazelle when I run. I laughed, but thanked her. And then I showed her some stretches that might help her a bit, but I'm concerned that I'm going to lose my running buddy. I don't mind running slowly with her (our miles together are averaging about 12-13 minutes) because I don't want her to get hurt. Hopefully, it's just her body getting acclimated to the new stress, but I'm going to look it up tomorrow. Because ten minutes of reading related articles on Google practically makes me a doctor.

The drive home was beautiful. The clouds had parted a little bit in a few places, and the sunlight pushed its way through each break, coming down like beacons. Every time I saw a new patch of light, I would repeat, "Everything is beautiful and nothing hurts." Lies are easier in the daytime.

I'm doing my mom a favor and selling some of her furniture on craigslist. She didn't give me any pictures, and she got irritated when I asked her for some. People are inquiring, and nobody wants to buy furniture sight unseen. That's just poor planning. But I may have already sold her couch, her chair, and two of her dressers.

I went bowling with Tosh and Ryan, Ryan's sister and brother, and one of his sister's friends. I had a few drinks, and still managed to bowl a 144. Which isn't stellar, but I don't hate it. I drove through GoG on my way home and stopped at Balanced Rock. While it was an unwise move on my part, I used the flashlight on my phone and climbed up to perch on the bigger of the two rocks. I stared at the moon and tried to count craters, but they were all one grey blur. Time feels different when I'm sitting up there by myself, especially at night.

I'm too sleepy and sullen to keep writing. In twelve minutes, I'm 29. It doesn't feel like a happy birthday. Wishes aren't real, and magic is gone.

Properly timed nostalgia of the highly improbable, exceptionally doubtful.

Oh boy!

A friend of mine called me and said she has a client that needs professional photos done. I may have another upcoming job! Which would bring my total of upcomings to three. Yay!!

My phone alerted me that there's a meteor shower coming up. One that I'm not terribly familiar with. I went and looked them up, and while I love going up to my spot at GoG and watching the sky for hours, I'm not sure that I want to watch for a few hours just to maybe see five, however brilliant they may be (word on the internet is, the great thing about this particular meteor shower is they are some of the brightest). BUT, the Perseids are coming up!! Which delights me. I've been super excited for the next meteor shower, because of telescope times! Yay again!

Tosh and I are going to go running tonight, and I'm pretty excited. I've been kind of inactive the last few days, but I am amped to run tonight.

So let's see: tonight - running with Tosh. Tomorrow night - my birthday (yuck), but going out to play pool with Tosh, Ryan, Stevie, Chris, and Allen. Sarita might join us, but I can't be terribly sure about that. Saturday - hiking/photography with Tosh. Sunday isn't anything that I know of, but it's fairly far away right now. Something may come up. Next weekend? Girl night! Diana, Tosh, Oakley, and I will be heading downtown and bar crawling. Because we're awesome, and this is apparently what awesome people do.

Monday should start girl night with Holly and Hannah again, we've been detained from that because Hannah has been on some sort of field duty thing.

I finally have all of my school stuff done! Now I'm just sitting back and waiting for everything to start, and the fringe school stuff to fall into place. Not much longer!

Tosh bought me lunch today, which was nice of her. But the salad smells strongly of onions, and I'm kind of nauseated by it. Nobody seems to want it. Bummer. I hate to waste it, but the smell is driving me fucking crazy.

Yesterday would have been a fantastic day to take pictures, but I was otherwise engaged in the morning, and by the time I wasn't, all of the fog had lifted and it was sunny again. Blast. I'm sure there will be more days like that.

I'm selling things for my mom. She's never quite figured out the whole Craigslist thing, but because she always gives me a tidy little cut of her money when she sells stuff, I don't really mind.

I read a really fantastic article on The Many Worlds Theory today. It reminded me I have some very specific pictures to take. I'm not sure yet if I want to post them or not, but I am going to take them, because they're incredibly important to me. I meant to take them a month and some change ago, but now is definitely the time to take them.

I'm reading up on low key photography. I want to take those, as well. I've tried it, but I'm not doing something right, because they look fucked up when I review them.

I wish I had photos to upload into this, since I've been all over the place and it hasn't been photography specific. But I don't. Because I'm at work. Like you do.

I promised The Clock I would not rescind my love for him.

I'm listening to my neighbor talk to his girlfriend on the phone.

It sounds like she wants to start a business, and she seems to be talking about the cost involved. I didn't realize this until a few minutes into the conversation, however. Initially, I thought he was giving her advice on getting some sort of help for herself. He kept saying things about when you're miserable, you do what needs to be done, to stop making excuses, and something or other is only a distraction from what's most important.

I thought to myself, huh. That's really forward of him, and it's nice he's not mollycoddling her.

Then I heard, "Get your shit together, woman. You can budget out your drugs for a month or two, and when you see your name on a website, you'll know it was worth it."

I don't. Fucking. Even. I'd say that aren't words, but that would be an obvious lie.

I didn't run again tonight. That's three nights in a row. I Skyped with Amber instead. We sat and talked for two hours. I'm going to run tomorrow after my thing. I went for a walk tonight, though. And I wanted to run, but I was in flip flops, and I had my purse, and then I remembered how tired I feel and how my back hurts and holy fuck, I'm turning 29 in a few days.

I've become rather addicted to A Softer World. I've been going through them all day. I found several that really hit home for me, alt-text and all, and I emailed them to myself so I wouldn't forget them.

I'm trying to talk myself into going out and taking photos tomorrow! I have some sparklers here, and I'd like to try a long exposure with those, because I've seen some that look really, really neat. I'm also still working on the low-key photos starring my very own face.

My neighbor and his girlfriend are arguing now. He's flinging his keys about in his hand, I can hear them jingling and thudding against his palm.

"There's a time to watch out for feelings, and there's a time to be true to oneself."

He said that and hung up on her.

I don't...I'm bemused. I wish I could have heard the entire conversation.

Take no paper hearts and fucking hate carnations

I haven't been taking any pictures (at least, not of the variety that I'm willing to make available for public consumption) lately, so I've had nothing to post in here. But I think I might go out tomorrow night and take some pictures somewhere.

I'm sitting on my bed, typing this on the tiny laptop. The boys (my rats, Andes and Brisby) are running around and trying to steal my dinner from me. I can't blame them. Number one, they're rats. Kind of an occupational hazard. Number two, it's a very tasty little multi-grain tortilla with black beans and salsa. It's the first thing I've eaten today. I didn't feel necessarily hungry, but I have to run later, and I have to eat or I'll pretty well fucking die.

I dropped one of my online classes and switched it for a brick and mortar class. Which dropped my total owed by a whole 90 dollars. Oh, boy! I'm really, really tempted to see if I can get one last override and sign up for another class on Thursdays. As it is right now, I have two classes Wednesday, one class Thursday, and three classes Friday. While I'm pretty sure I could get the override, I also think it might be wisest to use the time during the day on Thursday for studying and what have you instead of filling it with more classes. But I'm also incredibly anxious to get all of this over with as quickly as possible (and to kick extreme ass while doing so), so I'm sure I'll err on the side of not an extra class this semester. If I do as well as I'm anticipating, I'll overload in the Spring and the summer. I'm thinking of taking a photography class next semester. Everyone is pretty surprised I'm not majoring in photography, let alone taking any classes in it. The (Boy)Friend and I sort of talked about this when I went out with The Girls last week. Holly told me that she and her boyfriend Robert were at an art show, and they were wondering why I'm not off making money, because they think I'm quite talented (shameless plug right there). I told The (Boy)Friend, and he said that being a photographer is not terribly lucrative, and is probably a bit too sporadic, business wise. I told him I could be quite happy as a photographer, but yes, that's a no-go for me due to not making a lot of money. What's funny is I don't even care about making piles and piles of cash. That's never been a driving force for me. I flirted briefly with the idea of majoring in photojournalism, but I'd be much happier overall doing HR. Because I fucking love it.

I want to take a nap like crazy. It's raining out, and I'm hoping it stops for at least forty minutes so I can run.

In problems I wish I had all the time, I need a new bookshelf. A tall one. Best. Problem. EVER.

I miss kissing you for no reason most of all, I think. Well, I always had reasons. But they weren't important. They were mostly because you were being you, and that is so incredible that grabbing your face and kissing you was the only thing I knew how to do.

I miss you constantly. It's knitted itself into my skin, kind of how people wear a comfortable sweater. Except this doesn't feel right. I tell you, every once and awhile. I tell you I miss you and you skate over it. i keep telling myself to not tell you I miss you anymore. I don't think you like hearing it. I don't know if that's because you don't miss me so you have nothing to say in response, or you don't catch it, or you do miss me, you'd just..I don't know. Rather not say.

Nighttime is the hardest time for me. Still. I have such a hard time sleeping without you. I dream about you all the time. Sometimes they're nightmares. Those don't hurt as much as the good dreams, though. I had a dream the other night where we were sitting on your couch, and I was laying with my head on your legs. We were just talking. It was so real. Real enough that when I woke up, I fully expected you to be crashed out right above me. Those dreams ruin me.

I've started having arguments with myself about how I should be handling this. I play the conversation we had sitting outside of your apartment in my head when this happens. I hear you telling me you don't love me. And when I hear that, I wonder what it is you have to think about. Knowing that should be answer enough for you. That's the trump card, I feel. If you don't love me, there's nothing tying you to me. I'm here, you're everywhere else, and I can't win. I can't beat out proximity, I can't beat out anything, I don't think. I told you once that I am a dime a dozen. I never used to actually believe that. It was some sort of warped play on humility. I believe it now, though. What's worse, I'm afraid I made you believe it, too.

Every once and awhile, I read through the emails you and I sent to each other when you were deployed. Not all of them, but I'll pick a particularly lengthy string and consume it. I missed you so much while you were gone, and emailing you during the day, then talking to you every night was the highlight of all of my time.

...The fuck?

So, I come to my blog today to see what, you  may be asking yourself? Fucking NOTHING. My entire god damn blog was GONE. So, my brain being full of fuck, I decided to look at my posts. And they were all reverted to drafts.

I don't know what the fuck happened. So I republished everything, but now I have to go back and make sure that only those things I wanted published are published. I have about 10 drafts that I kept as drafts just for me, and nobody needs to see those.

Anyway.

In photo news!!

I saw a set of paintings that I want to try and recreate as photos. I'm fairly excited to start doing that.

I've finally quite smoking again. I haven't had one since yesterday, and I feel really good about it. Well, sort of. I still want to smoke, quite desperately. But it's cramping my style when I run. And that, while I have a very serious love/hate but mostly hate relationship with it, is far more important.

I've started ironing out details for the big drive-a-thon next month. I am so excited for just about every single aspect of it. The driving (I love it. Nothing helps you think like vast stretches of open road and waiting sky. Yes, please), the picture taking (because obviously), and the destinations. Yippee!!! I don't want to jinx anything, which is why I'm not being specific. But details will come the second they're solidified. I tried to get Amber to go with me, but she can't. And that makes me sad. But I don't mind doing it alone. In fact, it's almost better that way. Then I don't have to share the spaces where the world is empty with anybody, and I can just fill it all with my own thoughts.

This photo is noisy. I don't care for it at all. My ISO was cranked WAY too fucking high, and I paid the price. Also, that weird purple tone. I don't like that, either. Harrumph.

Is there anything prettier than a fluffy cloud? I don't think so. In let-me-point-out-the-flaw-to-you news, there's a weird squiggle in the left corner. It's in a few of my other photos, too. I think I must have had a gunky something or other stuck on my lens. I really need to buy a fucking camera bag. :/ But, I also want new lenses and a new camera body and all of that other stuff. I'd rather have those things than the bag.

Man, one of these days I am going to nail EV so fucking hard! While that day was not this day, I still love this photo.

I took these on Tuesday. I ran around taking photos for several hours, and I found three that I liked. But that's ok, I also went through them wildly late, and I was exhausted. I haven't gone through them again, so perhaps there are more.

I do need to go back out and take some more photos. I thought about doing so tonight after I run, but I am really so sleepy already. I didn't sleep terribly well last night. mostly because I got insanely drunk at the party (which was a blast. I told The (Boy)Friend that I finally learned how to play beer pong, and I'm actually REALLY fucking good at it. I played three games and won them all. By no small margin. Against seasoned payers. Yay!), and I kept waking up because I needed to drink more water. I felt dried out. Allen, however, out-championed me at drinking. He had the equivalent of two rum and cokes in one drink, three or four beers, and then FIFTEEN jello shots. Christ. I had my one rum and coke (of course I did, first of all, and second of all, it was god damn STRONG), I had a hard cider (yum!), a few sips of Allen and Hannah's beers, and then seven jello shots interspersed throughout the evening. And I felt pretty evenly lit the entire night. It was a really great time, though. I even thought ahead and brought my camera (with all of the correct accoutrements! I'm growing!), but I never once had a use for it. I had a great time, though. Hannah and Allen and I were pretty tight for the evening. Hannah and Allen really seemed to get along pretty well, which was nice.

I did actually accomplish a great deal of work here today, since, you know, that's where I am and everything. But I still have more work to do, and only forty minutes to do it all in. It won't be a problem, but I do want to get it all done without scrambling around for the last ten minutes that I'm here.