no reaction neccessary

Inasmuch as I am in debt up to my neck, with the apartment move and the furniture I just got for it, I am considering taking a holiday for christmas. I know it may seem a bit quick to start to talk christmas talk now (God knows if I'll even be alive then) but I want to do something different and hopefully it will be this year not next year, like I keep saying as each year rolls around.

Every year at Xmas, I gather in my sister's house with her kids and we open presents and wait for forever for the turkey to get ready and then we eat it, and then, we are bored and sit home admiring the presents we are not allowed to touch until the next day. The next day we rudely pluck down the decorations and just like that xmas is over.

You can see I need something a little different, I can almost predict what the outcome of this years will be, and my life at this age shouldn't be so predictable. It really shouldn't.
I don't know where it is I want to go, some where that is filled with nice people. I wish I had a clear picture of a place or something in my head. I just need to be somewhere else, doing something else, and possibly ordering room service, which may or may not comprise of turkey. I do not know. They say what makes a good writer is that they have experienced things, and had adventures. my adventure seeking days ended a little while ago. I am in need of some and I didn't get to take a summer vacation all year, so can I take one at the end of the year.
Hmmmm....

application

I think the school I intend to pursue the LLM study is about to reject my application. That's the thing with us naysayers, you hear it so many times that you can almost predict what it would sound like the next time. You can foresee it, and sometimes if you think hard enough, you can possibly think up what bullshit excuse they would make us for having to reject you.

I called them this morning. I just couldn't take it and it was wearing me down that I had spent all this money and time and no one could at least incur the expense of calling me to inquire about my application. Then, they call me to mind of a fact I had almost forgotten: the original degree certificate from my college. I never did obtain it. I never really thought I would need it. Obviously, I do now, because some bitch in the UK says I do.

I spent the whole morning online looking for a link to my University so I could communicate with someone over there and get them to send me my degree. But nothing online. It's like my school doesn't even exist. I thought we lived in a civilized society, apparently my country and my alma mater didn't get the memo on that. It just shows how much my life sucks and how much shit I have to suppress to get anything I need in this world. It's unbeliveable. I know there would be thorns on the way but not a whole forest, monsters, and demons. I feel like those characters in the Lord of The Rings who had to go through every hoop imaginable to get the damn ring where it was supposed to be.

and to what do we owe the honor

It's been a very confusing weekend. I have been driving around aimlessly looking for somewhere to find"fun" and entertainment and supposedly mingle with the in crowd as opposed to my new couch potato routine. I had written down a couple of places in the area that had bands playing, music, open mic, that sort of thing. I did a test run today just for pete sake, since it's Sunday the day with the least amount of traffic and just to see if this is really worth looking into, plus I needed a drink really badly after church. I neglected to take me camera. That's the thing with the picture taking hobby, I often neglect to take my camera where the sights are. I passed by the Duluth Fall festival, would have stopped if I had the camera with me. The first place was not much to look at and by the looks of the bartender, he was not quite the dish to make the journey down there for. It looked like it would be the happening scene and the crime scene at the same time. It was a typical bar, and a woman would be caught dead going there by herself. Then, the second was just as bad, dingier, but with a bit more promise as the list of bands that play there were posted on the board. I really do not know what to expect or if I will in the hopes of fun and enlightment to my Friday nights ever visit such places, more so alone. But I know at least I tried. Wherever you are, I know I tried to meet you.

I know a caged bird is supposed to sing

I want to get married because:

I am sick of my sister and her bullshit talk about how her, her husband, her marriage and the decisions they have made in their marriage, and in their lives are perfect. I am sick of hearing it and I am sick of her not being able to accept that her husband is an idiot, a conceited idiot that I never liked and never will and that will never change his idiotic ways.
I am sick of my sister dropping off her children to spend the weekend at my place so she can have alone time with her husband with the assumption that I have no plans of my own. She drops them off with me with a forecfulnes that seems almost as if it is my responsibility while she is off gallivanting with her husband as if she were single and me the single one I am burdened with a car full of pesky children. Mind you, these kids are not the heavenly =, make you wish you some of your own type of kids, their peskiness is enough to drive a priest batty, and there is not enough patience with me and Job to deal with them.
I want my brother-in law to respect me as a Mrs. Somebody. Even if it’s Mrs. Federline at this point I don’t really care, as long as it is Mrs. Somebody and my life would belong to my husband and not my family as it has been for 30 years.

black and white

I sometimes see my life in black and white, shades of grey fused in that distort any vision of color. My face pales in comparison to the darkness that it holds, and the smile that I try to reach for is not visible to the mind's eye as it weeps, little dots of grey, green and whimsical mauve. It is black and white there is no other explanation to the ashes.


I don't know why I wrote that, it really doesn't make sense not even to me. I have been blacklisted I am sure of it. There is no other explanation for the silence. Yes, the silence. NO ONE IS CALLING AT ALL. It has never really been that bad. It's bad externally and internally. I have never suffered with these many emotions in a job before. I wake up praying for a storm so I don't have to go in. My attorney is on PAXIL so when she misses her dosage she is a complete mess. And no matter how I pray and wish and beg God please I know I have to work this job until something works out, so please make it easy on me, He still makes it pour down on me, one bad dose of the job after the other. Something heavy, or stupid, or just god-awful unprofessional, makes you wonder. Today I cried. It's becoming a weekly occurence right now. Crying at the job. And I don't wimp out easy. I don't know what gives in the place, and I don't know when it will stop. Relief, saving grace, a chance to breathe and actually look forward to coming to work. I don't know when it ends.

So that made me think of the black and white, black and white shades of my messy life.

about time

In between having conversations with KR and trying to relax, it's been a pretty ho-hum weekend. I did not get the "letter" and at this point I don't know what to believe or expect. I have a feeling I may be waiting for "a word from our sponsor" until Christmas. Some firms just do not coordinate themselves well enough to send out letters of rejection, they just expect you to deduce whatever you want. I don't know if that speaks good or bad of them, but it speaks badly of me that 1) I am still where I am, biglaw firm is not itching to wrap their hands around me after all my preparation and anxiety 2) out of four positions available I could not get myself to fit into one of those positions. Everything about the whole ordeal is disappointing on every level and it just makes me ashamed to think of it. It had all the makings of a success story, except it belonged to me, and my stories do not have a happy ending, geez! I am still waiting for a happy ending to the one I am living in.

Another thing that bothers me, the UK universities I have applied to. They have deducted my money from my account and currenly have my degree in their hand, but please write me, call me, email me, tell me something, acknowledge that you have at least received something from me, they have not. It's like the whole world's gone silent. The prospective employers, recruiters, the university people, everyone. I have just been erased and no one can currently reach me. It saddens me completely.

I had an interesting conversation with my sister. We talked about my finances, and how I should be prepared for the future, and how I should always know at the back of my mind how uncertain it is. She claims she and her husband are experiencing financial trouble and they may want to sell the house to offset their debt and go for a smaller cheaper one. It is the same ole bullshit from her every year, next year it would be, we wish to refinance because mortgage rates are pretty low so let's save some money. Every year, a different thing with that woman. I love her, I love her completely. But I cannot understand her motives for some actions and why she wants everyone to see her reason while she is not seeing that of others, and I am sure she just might say the same of me. But every year it's the same thing, there comes a point when we try our best to avoid the number of instances of "I told you so" in our lifes. Before this one I told her, try to start small just so life would be a little simpler and she said NO, that the market was good, life was good, they needed an investment property. Now, it's we do not really need an investment property as much as we need investment money for the kid's college funds. What am I to believe?


You can see what my life is comprised of? If work could work out, or my love life could work out, or just one little segment in time could work out, maybe I could understand the shades of grey and think they are transient, but this one is of a permanent coloring.

We'll talk again soon, hopefully when I am not full of distress.

its happened

Not good news, no, of course not. I have come to the realization that something about me is allergic to that. Just the other day I was thinking about the last time tears of joy actually happened. I do get a little misty when people I like accept the Academy (though that has not happened in a long time) and I do get a little teary watching American Idol, but for me to have such good news that I get teary about it, and just bawl over the good news, I would say it's been about 2 years.

So what happened? Not good news, it was more like bad news, the kind that floors me and shatters me, and makes me not want to leave the house, face the outside world, and do a thing for days, the kind that cripples you mentally and physically. I feel like Wesley Snipes who yells out in anger during his battle scene with Sly Stallone in Demolition Man, "What am I doing wrong?"

Yes it's that kind of bad news. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with this career thing? If I knew I would have grasped it by now, I would not still be searching, I would not be switching jobs like it's underwear, I would have a grasp on what it is I am supposed to be doing and I would be doing it well. I would be thanking and loving and living, less searching. So what is it that I am doing wrong?

I am a good writer. I know I am. I do not give mself enough kudos in many departments, but in writing, I know that I try. I am not excellent, not Stephen King, I am not to be ranked among the greatest speech writers, I am also no as good as the proverbial Carrie Bradshaw. I am just good at it, it's one of the things I am better at than say, cooking, or cleaning, or running. I write. I may not speak well, but I write it pretty darn good. So what am I doing wrong? Beats me. Every once in awhile a defeat like this comes along that just makes you feel the gut being ripped out of you and you think, maybe I am not good enough, maybe I am not cut out for this career thing, maybe I cannot actually grasp it. If I cannot, then what can I grasp? I have not done any good in grasping a man that is for sure. It's been hell's bells all through that. So what else is there? Just a hopeless floating existence filled with my continous search for wholeness in something I should be good at.

Why is that the sad stories always come through? The good ones not so much, but the sad ones, are sure as stone. Why?

Let's hope I don't stay floored all weekend.

time to reflect

I just wanted to take a little time to reflect on a long, quiet weekend. Quite eventful financially, I spent every dollar I have on entertaining myself, still I don't feel quite entertained. And then, quite reflective for me, one of my oldest friends got married this weekend, needless to say I didn;t attend, and my family knew about it so began a long list of ways for me try to "catch a man" lest I become old and wrinkled and single. Then, I found a new appreciation for my apartment, it is so quiet in the mornings, I know it is possible for me to start school here, there is no distraction whatsoever. In the mornings I sleep until noon, before I stir, and even then, it is still quiet so I sit outside on the deck and sip my coffee, read my book, or sit just like now in front of the computer and waz philosophical. There is not enough time in the day for all the cool things I would rather do at home, and this is not good because it makes not want to go out and "catch a man" so to speak. But I am glad, and pleased and so grateful to God that I have this space with which to share with my over active imagination.

That is enough reflecting for now at least. I know I had something to say when I logged in today but it escapes my tongue right now.

Happy Birthday Keanu!

Isn't it sad that every year I do this, right about this time, aware that the next day I have to go to work and in a place I am not somewhat familiar with and in some other part of the world it is Keanu's birthday and apart from feeling a little bit left out I just feel extracted from mine, continually sulking that I am not in his. My Outlook reminder was set as Event: Keanu's birthday, and Location: Somewhere underneath some broad. Yes, that's as much thought as I have put in this.

So even if you are or are not underneath some broad, or just sitting alone in a cafe sipping wine and wondering why you are 40 and look great, and or why you are content and not fulfilled with how your life turned out, or proposing to your girl just before she gives you that birthday fuck we all know you enjoy. Whatever you are doing it cannot be as sucky as what I have to do, trust me on this and it hurts that this is the way it is.

This one is on me:

It came from yesterday to a time that would lead to tomorrow, to a time that I thought you would find me, to the time when I would look at you and not feel the needle pierce my skin as I long for a way to say I do not hurt, I do not ache, I do, but not as much. It came from yesterday to that time when we were unknowing of what could come to be, of what one stare could cause us to believe...It came from yesterday and it runs to... endlessly.

For Keanu, endlessly...

today the 1st day of the month

I took the day off work today. I woke up and I just didn’t feel liking face another day in there. I have been having that feeling a lot lately and it’s quite unlike me, since I live for work not relaxation, I have certainly had enough of that to last me a lifetime. However, today I wanted to send out the application to the degree external in the UK and I need to sit down and write the personal statement and just coordinate. I didn’t sleep in though I just got up and sat to it in front of me my computer and typed away. I had very frustrating time tring to send that application today.

I went to the bank and asked to buy foreign currency and they stare at me as if I am asking for Iraqi currency, or I was some strange relation of Bin Laden. I just found it so shocking, sometimes I think where have I landed, and have I actually landed in the right place, that instead of civilization I am given the opposite, instead of the keys to a modern world I am faced with a world afraid to take that step to civilization even when they can. I felt so frustrated I wanted to scream just yell out loud. Why is living so hard? Why does every single step I want to take to make my life better have to be so hard, I would accept one or two things as hard but not every single thing just becoming a pile of shit dropping on top of me. I am pathetic bothering on near psychotic, I am evading work and what’s next? I came home and thought maybe I should ask for numbers for shrinks now. Yes, I said it because I am losing my mind, my psychological wellness is depleting and I fear I may shrivel and not want to leave the house soon, like the kind of feeling that came over me today.

My life, my mess, it continues…