Peaks and Valleys

Well, it's been an interesting couple of days. I have seen some major highs and major lows since I posted my poem yesterday.

I'll start with the low, and get that right out of the way because I'd rather have something sweet to calm my mood at the end. First; Dustin's job search isn't going very well. I wish it was going better but the economy, especially in Janesville, is just awful. There are no jobs. What can you do? Second, while it wasn't a new discovery per se, I discovered that a relative of mine stole something from me.

If I go back and start at the beginning, this person has stolen from me since they were really young. It started out as anything shiny. Like a little raccoon, they would secret my items away just because it looked sparkly in some way or another. The funny thing was that the person would hide them in the same spot every time, so I would just take it back, scold them, and move on. Nothing more was ever said or done about it because it was made out by another family member as "not a big deal"... so I left it be. When this person reached their teen, it started to become more expensive items, or items associated with my religion. This person (I thought) looked up to me in one way or another, religiously and otherwise, so I explained as they aged that that was just not acceptable. It is not right to steal and it is even more wrong to steal religious items. It's the exact opposite of what my religion stands for... I also explained that somehow, the items I care about always find their way back to me.

A good example of this; when said person was in middle school, I was at the middle school for a visit and sat with them at their lunch table. A friend of theirs came to sit with us and when she sat down, I saw a necklace (sterling silver and amethyst, and very expensive necklace) draped around this girl's neck that was exactly like a necklace that an ex-boyfriend bought for me in Madison... I asked her where she got it, and she told me. I was floored. I had no idea that this relative of mine was still stealing from me. The girl gave me back the necklace and then I spent some time after questioning this relative about what else they had stolen from me. This came at a bad time for them, because I had been missing my engagement ring for a few weeks at this point. I found out for sure that a friend of theirs had stolen it from my house when they were babysitting my daughter. Ugh.

Just when I think I can trust this person, some other skeleton comes falling out of the closet, bones rattling and bleached white for all to see. So, as for this recent item, I had a friend of theirs send me a picture of herself that I was going to work on in Photoshop... what do I see but my necklace hanging from her neck. The worst part was how awful she felt about it when I told her where it had actually come from. I don't blame her. How was she to know? But, like all things I truly care for when it comes to possessions, the necklace found it's way back to me once again.

The person in question is over the age of eighteen. I let them have it for a good two hours over the phone, I told them how hurt I was, how I didn't understand why someone would take from someone that they were A) related to, and B) from someone who really has so little. That stealing is wrong to begin with was beside the point. That they are family and stealing from me is so much worse, in my book. So now we are back to square one again, they have told me all that they have stolen over the years that never returned (totaling something like 2-300 dollars worth of items), and I have to learn to trust them. Should I have called the police? Probably. That is something I'll just have to learn to deal with.

So. I have been feeling lousy all day. The necklace was returned today, it now rests around my neck and that feels a bit better... but it didn't lift my mood. Until the good came along. The really good.

I'm minding my own business, sitting on the couch wondering what I am going to make the family for dinner, how much work that's going to be, feeling generally ill-at-ease, when a knock sounds at my door. My neighbor is standing on my porch with a pan full of uncooked lasagna. "Set the oven to 350* and cook it for thirty minutes", he says and walks back down the sidewalk, smiling.

I don't know how he knew my day had been crappy, but it was nice to know that someone, somewhere, was sending some good vibes my way.

My love to you all,

Candlelit Soul

A friend posted a bunch of her poetry on Facebook to read, and it inspired me to share some of my own. So for this blog post, I'll share a poem I wrote long ago. Enjoy this rarity, my friends.

Candlelit Soul

Take a look into my soul

Inside there’s something very cold

And lost from just not knowing why

The human eye has tears to cry

Like morning dew come out of you

From feelings that are raw and new

A hunger deep within our gut

Forces us to sever, cut

The things in life that hurt us most

The whispers of an aching ghost

Keep your candles burning bright

And from the depths you’ll see the light

Drunken ramblings...

Soooo.... blog posting while semi-drunk should be fun....

The future in-laws decided it would be a good time to walk and have wine while doing it... maybe not the best of plans before I have to do my nightly blog post... Yeah. sooo drunk right now....

Anyway. I had to tell my oldest how special she is before she went to sleep. As a mom that is so hard to do. Not telling my daughter how special she is, but how special she is when compared to her sister. To tell one how awesome she is compared to the other when they have two different dads is near impossible. Because they are so different they are really hard to compare to one another. One is quiet and shy while the other one just says what's on her mind. One is artistically silently while the other is artistic with words. I can't choose between the two. That is just a cruel choice for a mom to make. It is just impossible.

How do you tell one child that they are important while not disqualifying the talents of the other? How do you make one feel like they are the center of your world when they are a mismatched set?

I think that if my mom had spent more time telling me why I was important, I would have turned out a different person altogether... is that a bad thing? Not always. I think it is useful when a parent points out the positives in one, while accentuating the not-so-strong points in the other, and it balances out the "favoritism" between the two. Maybe if my mom had spent some time telling me what I was good at, I wouldn't have spent so much time in what she liked about him more... I don't know...

Call this all the drunken ramblings of me. I'll look back and laugh tomorrow. 'Til then, I love you all.

Good night.

Misty Watercolor Memories? Probably Not.

Sometimes it seems impossible to do the daily blogging thing because I have no idea what it is I should talk about... I mean, sometimes my day was just not interesting enough to post about. Then I get to thinking what I could post about, in lieu of the daily nonsense. I hardly doubt anyone really cares what I had to eat to today, especially if that is the only thing worth telling you all about. So here I sit, considering which story from my youth or life I should share... considering so many are just not appropriate to tell other people about. For now, I will just start rambling and eventually a subject will come from it.

For one; Laura is an amazing friend.

When I was younger, I was never able to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up, and now that I am grown up, not a whole lot has changed. I am the kind of person who wants to see all and experience all and love life. It seems so immature when I look at it as a "grown up" because I am almost thirty; I should have some sort of idea of what I would like to do with the rest of my life, right? I like to write, I like to be around people, I like sales, I like animals, I like acting, I like singing, I like everything. And I have done a lot in my life... just nothing has stuck yet, except maybe the writing and I am finding it impossible to finish what I start. I know that with some soul searching, I'll figure it out. I just need to set aside the time to do that.

The one thing I think I can be thankful for is that I am no longer an angry person. I used to have the meanest mouth of anyone I knew, willing to scream in anyone's face no matter the consequence. I have been in so many fights, physical and otherwise, and I have taken pieces from the people I fought so they would never want to fight me ever again. I don't know if that was because I was so small and people thought less of me because of it or if it was because I just disliked myself so much. I think that in a way it was both. I wasn't willing to let people take me down a peg because I was feeling as low as I could get anyway. I can't believe I don't have ulcers from the amount of anger and resentment I carried around with me, and that I deserve friends at all.

I am thankful for the friends I have, and for the family I have created for myself. I find myself missing those who are not here, but reside in my heart. I am so glad I lost whatever nasty chip I had so that I could enjoy the wonderful people I surround myself with now. Ten years ago, you all wouldn't have wanted anything to do with me, I'm sure of it.

I think that's why, recently, I found myself so upset by a person who started an argument with me on a Facebook link I posted. He was attacking things that I had said, took them out of context, and put words in my mouth making me out to be this terrible person... I left that person behind so long ago, I am not going to pay for those days anymore. That's just self-defeating. He made me feel like all I do is hurt for the sake of hurting people, and I am not her anymore. When I dug that hole for myself, I buried my old self in it and never looked back. I love me, now. And I love all of you.

Good night my lovelies. I hope you are warm and safe somewhere.

Photography, Music, and Falling Backwards

Well, I suppose I missed my technical blog post for the sixth, but I am going to post it now and post another later "today" (even though I haven't slept yet, so I don't count it as tomorrow yet).

Today was extremely fun for me as I got to do my first ever photo shoot. By photo shoot, I mean honest to goodness, on location, clothing changing photo shoot with my good friend Al Murin. We have been planning to do this shoot since sometime around late spring or early summer, and somehow issues popped up so that we had to keep on changing the date over and over again... This was going to be a last ditch effort before the snow starts flying and we had to give up until spring next year.


While the air had a chill to it, the skies were clear and sunny and the light worked out perfectly for us. In fact, he never even had to use a light and almost every shot is usable without even artistic photo editing. I wore the garb I wear at the Renaissance Faire in some of the shots and clothes I thought would look nice for the others, and they turned out better than I could hope for.

I guess somewhere deep inside me still exists that awkward girl from middle and high school that never had dates and boys would steer clear of. Though I try to stamp out this "unworthy" self-image, somehow I find it creeping up on me at the worst of times and I feared that today I would have my fears realized when every picture transformed me into a hideous monster.

It wasn't at all like that. Here are a few of my favorite shots.

We ended up using all of the light that we could squeeze out of the day, and I was late to meet up with my friend Krix. After finally getting my butt home, Krix, my fiancé and I went out to meet up with my friend Chris Kohn out at The Armory for his gig. Chris is an amazingly talented guitar player and singer who I had the pleasure of meeting at a local coffee shop and fell in love with his talent. If you get a chance, you should check out some of his original music on Chris Kohn's Facebook Page and believe me, you won't be disappointed. What disappoints me, however, is that it's been so long since I was able to go and check out one of his shows. I'll be seeing him again just before Thanksgiving for a gig at The Speakeasy, where I'll be doing some singing with him. He's promised to help me learn to play guitar... With a teaching career, a new baby, and a career in music, I doubt this will happen but I'll just keep holding out hope.

All in all it was an amazing day, if I subtract the semi-crappy food and VERY crappy service at Denny's after the gig. I'm not going to let that get me down though. The positive kicked the negative's ass today, especially once I realized that I'm pretty.


Much love to all. See you when it's really tomorrow, and set your clocks backwards, kids.

Solitary and Psychology

I didn't really experience anything too terribly fun and exciting today, so rather than talk about what I ate, or saw, or experienced, I decided to talk a bit about a show that I love called Solitary.

In this show, sadly cancelled after four seasons by Fox Reality, they take nine people and put them in these octagonal rooms called "pods", all by themselves and do all kinds of wacky experiments on them. I first came across this show while dog-sitting for my fiancé's parents. We were channel surfing late one night on their dish channels and happened upon a show where people were doing insane things, and for a fifty thousand dollar prize at the end if they were the last person standing.

What sets this show apart from other reality shows is that no one gets eliminated by a vote; they eliminate themselves by quitting treatments that they are put through. Not only are they isolated, but they are deprived food and sleep and sometimes forced to endure high and low temperatures. They have to eat things that are blended together or endure physical pain, or do mental games that, for you or I would be easy because we were well rested, but for these people seems like the hardest thing they have ever done in their lives.

I often wonder if I would be able to endure the types of tests they put these people through, and I think that first and foremost the hardest part would be the solitary aspect of it. I don;t do well when alone, and I don't like to be by myself a lot of the time. Also, I think some of the food challenges would be hard because sometimes the contestants are forced to eat until they vomit. Around my house it is a well-known fact that when I hit bottom, I have to stop eating or I will throw up. Sometimes that is while I am chewing a bite in my mouth... and then I am forced to spit it out. I think I would do well with the lack of sleep, or the deprivation of food end of it but I know that the continual eating and aloneness of it would kick my butt.

If you've never seen the show, I highly recommend watching. I know, I know, reality television has a stigma. Consider this more like watching a psychological experiment, because that is precisely what it is. All you need to do is go to Hulu.com and type "solitary" into the search bar. I promise you, you won't be disappointed... that is, unless you have a weak constitution.

Have a good tomorrow!

... And Whiskers on Kittens

Even though I find myself complaining daily every winter about how much I hate it, today when my fiance woke me up and tried to fool me into believing the rain I heard was actually snow, I found myself excited enough to sit right up in bed in order to see out of the window. Alas, no snow.... and I was disappointed.
It has taken me years to figure out that I really do like it in Wisconsin. When I used to talk to people about how I'd love to move away, how I would love to live somewhere that was warm all year. Things now are so different. When I talk about permanance, it always includes the state of Wisconsin as the place I'd like to live, so I guess Wisco is stuck with me.

In other news, I think I have a story in mind for nanowrimo. I know that I am already late, but I think that as long as I stick to the writing daily program right now, I should be alright. I won't be able to catch up on the words I am due right away, but I'll probably make up for it someplace in the middle. Unlike Cherry Blossoms, the story I am working on now has a beginning, a middle, and an end already. I do know where I would like Cherry to end up, but I just don't feel like right now is the time to be in Cherry's world. I know that that might end up being sad to some people, and for that I apologize. Listening to Neil this weekend really put some thoughts into my head. One of the things he talked about had to do with when you were writing a story that just didn't seem to be working. He said that maybe you weren't good enough to write that story yet. Maybe that is true.

Right now I plan to get a little closer to home. I have heard it said that in order to be a good writer, sometimes you have to write what you know. While this story is not one hundred percent factual, there are definitely elements in it that are more truth than fiction. I don't want to talk to much about this one at the moment because I want to see what comes of it with no outside noise. Perhaps after I get a bit farther into it I'll ask for input but for now this one is all mine. I am thinking of it as my baby because, in a way, it already is.

Today was a very meditative day for me. Quiet, and full of planning. I think I was in need of one of those. I also decided that this was going to be a short post right off because I really need to worry more about my word count for the story. I hope this finds you warm and safe somewhere, reader.