Thursday, December 31, 2009

One Day I'll Write an Entry When I'm Actually Sober

Lol, well apparently xanax and sad music equals bad poetry. It's always funny reading what you wrote in the light of day.

This morning was amazing. I walked to work for the last time with snow coming down all around me. It was majestic. I took my time, taking pictures along the way. Yes, I even asked a stranger to take a photo of me. I had to document the end of an era.

I feel very weird right now. Part of that could be beacuse I just downed half a beer at work in the about 30 seconds, but I'm pretty sure I'd feel weird without it. Life is all of a sudden more vivid. Everything is clearer.

Tonight is my last NYE in NYC. Well who knows, but it could be the last. It's going to be Epic.

The cool thing about the end of an era is that another one begins. 2010 is going to be amazing. I can feel it in the air. I think it's very appropriate that the last day of my job is the last day of the year. Four years ago tomorrow is when I moved to NYC. It's been full of just about every emotion you can describe. I lived here. Truly lived. And now I'm going to live life to the fullest in LA.

Goodbye 2009. It's been interesting. But 2010 is going to kick your ass.

Xanax + Sad Music = Time to Write Some Poetry

Hard exterior starts cracking
to reveal a vulnerability
That has been deeply hidden
Under the folds of my heart

Not sure what direction I'm flying
Everything now flashes in a blur
Passing by and all around me
Never stopping for a second

Need to catch my breath
Need to slow down
But I keep on going
Spinning Faster and Faster

Can't keep up with the feelings
Creeping up and pushed back down
But the more they are ignored
The angrier they become

The cracks become deeper
to reveal something raw inside
Both Beautiful and Ugly
Fighting to the surface

Wanting to get out

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

all you can do is breathe . . .

"Breathe (2 AM)"

2 AM and she calls me 'cause I'm still awake,
"Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?,
I don't love him. Winter just wasn't my season"
Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize,
Hypocrites. You're all here for the very same reason

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
"Just a day" he said down to the flask in his fist,
"Ain't been sober, since maybe October of last year."
Here in town you can tell he's been down for a while,
But, my God, it's so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I'll just sing about it.

Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys,
So cradle your head in your hands,
And breathe... just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe

There's a light at each end of this tunnel,
You shout 'cause you're just as far in as you'll ever be out
And these mistakes you've made, you'll just make them again
If you only try turning around.

2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

But you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable,
And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button now
Sing it if you understand.
and breathe, just breathe
woah breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe,
Oh breathe, just breathe.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Back Burner

I realize I haven't been writing as much lately and I apologize for that. The truth is, I'm not sure what to write about anymore. My whole life has been turned upside down and around and my personal life is in such turmoil that I can't even think about my professional life at the moment. I keep hoping things will be different in LA. I'll have a fresh start. A new life. I'm leaving in a week +1 day and I still don't know where I'm living, how I'm getting a car, or how to make money. I just have a one way plane ticket and two cats. And a shit ton of clothes. I'm leaving behind some really awesome friends- the best really- and that makes me sad. I'm letting go of any resemblance to stability that I once had. It's scary.

And exciting.

Despite all of this, I am actually pretty happy at the moment. People keep expecting me to be mopey and distraught, but I have an inner calm that comes with starting my new life. I know things are going to work out. I'm going to make it one way or another. I always find a way. And I absolutely cannot wait for warmer weather. Things are going to be good. I can feel it.

I just need to find a place to live first. The writing will come later.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Freaking Out

Am currently freaking out because I have to pick up a cargo van in a couple hours and park it . . . double park it . . . in a snow bank. . . by myself. . . . and I haven't driven in a few years . . . a car let alone a huge van . . . and I've never driven in NYC . . . and I can't stop using dot dot dots . . . Ok goodbye now. . .

Friday, December 18, 2009

I'm Doing It

So, this is hard. Really hard. It’s difficult to imagine starting one’s life over from scratch. But that is pretty much exactly what I’m doing. Nothing that has been familiar or stable to me over the past few years is remaining the same. My job, my relationship, my city. Everything is changing. It feels scary, it feels horrible and sad, but it also feels right. Deep down in my soul, I know this is something that needs to be done. I need this change of environment to jumpstart my creativity. I need to get that passion for life back. I don’t know when it left or why but I’m hoping LA will help me find it.

I just got off the phone with my friend G, and she said, “If you’re doubting yourself- don’t. There is a difference between people who talk about doing it and people who actually do it. You’re doing it.”

I’m doing it. And I feel that good things are going to happen. No matter how hard it is now. And at the very least, I’ll probably have some good stories to tell.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

One Hot Mess

I have to say that I think I am dealing with this breakup with much more grace than any breakup in the past. I guess it just shows how much I’ve grown up over the past few years. Yes, you read that correctly: break up. The BF of over five years and I have decided to part ways. That accounts for the lack of posts lately. I just haven’t been able to talk about it. I am extremely sad and love him very much, but it just isn’t right. Not right now anyway. I am still fiercely protective over him so unless you want to be on my bad side, please do not say anything negative about him. And out of respect for both of us and our relationship, I am not going to delve into the details here. He is a good man and I am a good woman. We just were no longer good together.

Though we both see that its time to separate, that doesn’t mean this is easy. Oh no. I learned on Day One that I needed to start rocking the waterproof mascara instead of the regular stuff. There is no telling when I am about to break out into tears. It could be when I’m checking my email at work, when I’m walking down the street, or when I’m about to go to sleep at night. Just the other day, my cat scratched me and I laid down on the floor and bawled like a baby for 15 minutes. This is hands down the hardest thing I have ever been through. After five years, the term “break up” seems too pat. (I really hate that term, “too pat” but read it in a script recently and it seems very apropos at the moment). It’s more like a divorce.

It doesn’t help that my entire life is changing in unimaginable ways. I gave my two weeks notice at MHDJ, which though I complain about, has been just about the only constant work in my life since moving to New York. I am moving to LA. I don’t know where I will live in said city. I don’t know how I will get around and need to purchase a car. I have no money. I need to move out of my apartment here and rent a storage unit. But storage units cost $250 a month and there’s no way I’m paying that unless I’m living in it too. Add on top of that a couple health scares and I am one hot mess. Don’t even get me started on what I am going to do about health insurance.

Yes, a hot mess just about covers it all. I’m scared and confused and lonely. But I have to keep punching forward. It is times like these that define who we are. And I need to come out on top. Regardless of how many tubes of waterproof mascara I may need to buy.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Pioneers! O Pioneers! By Walt Whitman

Come my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes?
Pioneers! O pioneers!

For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O you youths, Western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the past we leave behind,
We debouch upon a newer mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

We primeval forests felling,
We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing deep the mines within,
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Colorado men are we,
From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

From Nebraska, from Arkansas,
Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental
blood intervein'd,
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O resistless restless race!
O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult, I am rapt with love for all,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress,
(bend your heads all,)
Raise the fang'd and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon'd mistress,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

See my children, resolute children,
By those swarms upon our rear we must never yield or falter,
Ages back in ghostly millions frowning there behind us urging,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

On and on the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill'd,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O to die advancing on!
Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill'd.
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the pulses of the world,
Falling in they beat for us, with the Western movement beat,
Holding single or together, steady moving to the front, all for us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Life's involv'd and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

All the hapless silent lovers,
All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Lo, the darting bowling orb!
Lo, the brother orbs around, all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

These are of us, they are with us,
All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind,
We to-day's procession heading, we the route for travel clearing,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

O you daughters of the West!
O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Minstrels latent on the prairies!
(Shrouded bards of other lands, you may rest, you have done your work,)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Not for delectations sweet,
Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious,
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Do the feasters gluttonous feast?
Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock'd and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged nodding
on our way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious,
Pioneers! O pioneers!

Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the daybreak call--hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind,
Swift! to the head of the army!--swift! spring to your places,
Pioneers! O pioneers!