not bad (does not) = good

Things may have begun to get a little bit easier, slightly smoother, and more communicative.
That doesn't just make everything wonderful though. I can't tell if my brain is going through some sort of insecurity or if I'm just picking up on unconscious vibes. Probably the former, but I hate to poke and prod to determine which.

I'm waiting for school to start, but I feel like I'm always waiting for something...something to give me a new circumstance or situation. Why? I don't really know.

The odd part? I'm fairly content. I'm just paranoid.

prep work.

I have to go ask the neighbors if they care if I have a cat.

I have to go back to Lindenhurst and get her (if no one in the vicinity is allergic). And other things. The jugs of shampoo & conditioner, my printer, my stock of soap and trash bags, everything I might possibly need or want to have with me. Not that I can't go back, but it's inconvenient to. Though at that I have to chuckle. Theoretically, the inconvenience is getting up at 5am to get on a train at 6am to sit for an hour and forty minutes, to take classes forever away to do the same thing all over again to get back. But so long as the return > the investment, it's worth it, right?

I'd like my desk. I just don't know how to get it from my house to Queens.

I have to figure out how and when to go drop my car off in Stony Brook and take the train back. What does this week look like for me? If the cat is here, it doesn't matter where I stay, but the gas to get back & forth every day would be too much. So do I do it on Friday? If we go away for the weekend anywhere, then that's just wasting time we could be spending traveling to wherever. Do I do it Wednesday? If I do, then I have to pay for the train to/from SB on Friday. Do I drive out Tuesday morning (1st day of school) and start the process after Labor Day? I don't know. I'm not as good at planning as I thought I was. Not to mention I've been training myself to be amenable to upheavals in plans. But the whole first day of school thing seems like the best plan.

I need my battery chargers. And shoes; oh, so many shoes. And cat litter. And cat food, which I haven't even bought yet; she's just about out of what she has.

That little magnet pad, so I can write down that we need milk & eggs and feel like I've made headway on actually getting them.

My files? So I can continue to be neurotic about paperwork? Candles, 'cause I likes them? Socks. More socks. Advil.

I think I will have to dig through drawers, closets, cabinets, shelves...just to feel like I have me with me.

I don't think I'm leaving me behind, by any means. I do, however, feel like I'm just trying to incorporate myself into Chris's world (and by 'world,' I mean 'apartment,' which in essence is kind of exactly what I'm doing).

In any event, tomorrow will be a long day of just about official moving...again, provided it's okay with the neighbors that I bring Leslie back with me. I got my monthly LIRR ticket in the mail yesterday though, which makes this all the more real. :)

"I'm dating a model."

So, my darling ex-boyfriend, you are. Thank you for sharing. I honestly don't care about the 400 hundred people waiting for her wherever she is. I don't particularly care for gloating. Especially when said gloating is about my replacement. "Look, honey - all of the things you weren't! AND she likes me!"

I honestly don't know what I prefer: your utter misery (which was really annoying because it was solely due to your not having a girlfriend) or your super-wonderful-model girlfriend gloating. Have I ever sent you a text message about how wonderful my boyfriend is? No. And it's not because he's not wonderful (as everyone that knows him knows, he is), it's because it's obnoxious to shove it in anyone's face, especially my ex-boyfriend. I wouldn't do that because I wouldn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

Maybe I'm just being a girl. But that was rude.

when the weight of the world feels exactly like...the weight of the world.

I don't even know how to say what's going on in my head and my heart. They are torn apart, not by the mass of the body in between, but by circumstance and resulting actions of circumstance.

What I have learned is that what I want is to be an individual. To be able to live a single existence, but in a relationship. I'm not sure if I have it all wrong and am trying to be too independent, or if I'm doing what might be right.

I know I'm not the queen of independence. I'm actually like the princess of independence, run away to try to avoid my parents at all costs. But I'm ready now. I'm ready to find the balance between that which is entirely overbearing, and that which is rational.

I want...to live peacefully. I don't remember moving in with Rob being very complicated, but it wasn't handled well either. We didn't really work out "kinks," I just said 'jump' and the bitch jumped. This...this is not like that. That is not me, nor who I want me to be, and unfortunately, that means there are, in fact, kinks. More than I had thought there would be.

I've not given up. The second I claim to give up, nothing will be able to restore faith. I don't think three weeks of an on again/off again living situation is enough to dismiss an entire relationship anyway. The first official month might even be rocky, but not if I can help it. I have made some resolves, some resolutions to bring a better Linda to this world, and ultimately, to my relationship.

I may never reach the ideal I have created for myself, but I am open to compromise and discussion and love, and that is what is most important in my opinion.

Contrary to popular belief, I am not a fan of fighting or drama or anger, or even rockiness. I want calm and collected and easy and fun. I also understand it doesn't always work that way. I just need to figure out how to make that the most prominent motif in my life.

I believe in me. I hope I'm not the only one.

does misery even like company?

Some days I wonder long and hard why in the world I want to be a therapist. I'm pretty sure, with my inability to make so many people feel any better, I would completely suck at it. Some people say "OMFG you are going to RULE as a shrink," but that's mostly because their minds (and issues) are less complicated than the people I fail with. Thinking back, I don't even know if I've helped anyone at all. Therapy is supposed to be about a patient talking, and a therapist directing thoughts. With most people all I do is opine. With others, I can say little to nothing, mostly because I can't handle the continued negative reaction.

I should take that for what it is: a self-help technique. If it makes me so uneasy to hear something like that, how do other people feel when I act similarly?

As for "treating," I understand that I'm not a shrink, nor am I actually close to being one as of late. But I used to be so good at helping people. At making them smile. At being a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Now all I can do is frown and say, "chin up?" and wait impatiently for something magic to happen. What's the only real possible reaction to that? "Yeah, thanks," and likely a response frown.

I suppose I do actually understand why I want to make people feel better: true happiness is pretty contagious. (But, mind you, that fake shit that is most commonly seen is not.) Does that mean the key to responding to people's problems is to just be an uber-optimist and cheerily smile in their face and say, "aw, you've nothing to worry about. It'll all work itself out; you'll see!" Because that just seems like a fake shortcut.

And I imagine that without being truly happy myself, I will do little good for anyone else. At present, happy people still kind of grate on my nerves, which is an indication that I'm not quite there. Yes, there are certainly times I couldn't be happier, so all is not lost, but to be able to find that place ... the place of peace and tranquility and patience ... now that would be an accomplishment of a decade.

Regardless, I should be able to put (most of) my own issues aside, and deal with things for others. Again, though: brick wall. I get met with a lot of sidewards smiles and "I'm going to go"s. Is it just a case of a lack of training? I suppose no matter if it is or isn't, I should at least view it as such, to keep my inspiration and hope alive.

I can't seem to figure out if I'm supposed to be empathetic, equally as whatevertheyare, optimistic, or try to help them see a brighter side. Does misery want company or help or just someone to listen? I believe that answer is entirely subjective. Personally? I like company. I like someone to force me to smile, or laugh, because how can I possibly be mad/sad/othernegativeemotion while laughing, or feeling loved? It's difficult. But who's to say that's what everyone else, or anyone else for that matter, wants? I know entirely too many people who want to deal with their shit by just "going away" and "being alone." Granted, all that usually gets its a pretty bow on top of some sadness or anger, but when solitude is what is sought, it's hard to argue for the adverse.

So ultimately, misery may or may not love company, and the phrase is a bunch of hogwash?






"Treat a man as he appears to be, and you make him worse. But treat a man as if he were what he potentially could be, and you make him what he should be." -Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

if I only had a [creative, fantasy-driven] brain...

I feel like I would then fit in better with those that I surround myself with. I would be fun to talk to, sought out for ideas. What do I do? I go to school for psychology. Aside from actually having a somewhat intelligent brain, what have I to contribute to the people closest to me?

I honestly don't think I have anything of substance to say, and that I'm not very interesting. I might be entertaining sometimes, but that's all I see as far as what I have to offer. I'm animated. I'm easy to make fun of. Sometimes I feel like I'm the person everyone keeps around to make themselves feel better about how smart/knowledgeable they are.

I'm sure there's more to it. I'm sure I've something good going for me, but at present I can't see it and I'm not entirely sure why. I'd love to just post my insecurities to the workdaylist, but ... well, no one ever has a problem like that, because they're all so damn confident in themselves & their strengths. I don't know what my strengths are. I don't know what I'm good for. And I don't need to feel even more the baby for whining about it to a group of 30+ people.

Then again, that might be good for me. Maybe they'll say something nice. Or maybe something mean, but that I need to hear. Or maybe they won't say anything at all, which would be worse, but nothing worth getting a stash of ACME razors over. (I wouldn't really need a stash now, would I? One would seemingly be sufficient. Heh.)

I'd rather not seek comfort in other people's comments. What I'd like is to feel like I know something, and not need to wonder how I fit into the puzzle that are the people I call 'friends.' I need for these uber-insecure days to just stop. And step one is coming to terms with who I am, and what my own strengths are. I'm just not sure how to do that when I don't know.

nobody said it was easy.

The every 4 days blog continues...although today, I'm not much in the mood to be posting pictures. Maybe another time.

Thursday was nice. Jo came over for dinner. It's great having her so close by. I will be sad to see her leave, but we will both be so preoccupied with our respective schools, that I imagine weekends will be our only potential time to see one another anyway.

Friday was ... a Friday. Work, back to Queens, which I am now calling "home." I decided if I was going to have doubts about the entire arrangement it wouldn't be worth doing. So as of now I'm all in. Chris came home from a work BBQ and we watched a movie, drank some whiskey and had just a good, relaxing night in.

Saturday we went to our respective mothers' homes. I hung out with mom and the cat and BBQed for us. Went back home just to turn around and meet Vinny at the Beer Garden in Astoria. Turns out a friend of (my friend) Dan's was having a bachelor party there as well, so lots of people were around. It was actually a great place and a lot of fun. Unfortunately, though, my night didn't end well. One might say it ended disturbingly.

Half of Sunday was spent sleeping. During the waking hours, Chris & I went to Home Depot and carried a table & chairs a mile or two home. Then we set up in the living room and made a workstation. I think it came out pretty well. I tried to study for the test I had today in sleep class, but it was a lot of material and my focus was way off. I did the best I could with what I had.

I left this morning with the intention of returning Wednesday. I'm looking forward to not having to do this anymore. Not wondering where certain belongings are, not trying to figure out what time to get up because of what day it is or if it's raining, stuff like that. I'd like to have a fairly smooth lifestyle, not that that's ever really been too possible. But a good place to start might be standard commuting and a stable place to reside.

I spent most of the day okay; I spent some of the day upset. It was rather random, honestly. I didn't realize I would have strong, painful emotions just sitting inside of me, whirring around, itching for somewhere to go, but finding nothing. Void of an outlet, they only find solace in random tears, which really just annoys me. So I'm walking around, some sort of tear-jerking time bomb, trying to live a normal life. I hear it's a process, and I'm ready for the "healing" to begin...however that happens. How does one find a constructive emotional outlet, anyway?

when no place feels like home.

The highlight of my Monday was my new planner. I know this might sound lame to some, but it was actually quite thrilling for me. I like that start-over feeling, y'know? Where even though nothing in life has changed, there's almost a reason for a new beginning, like New Years Eve, which is the ultimate start-over.

The book also signifies a year gone by at Stony Brook. Though it may have felt long at the time, it certainly flew by in retrospect. (Then again, doesn't everything in life fly by in retrospect?)

In addition to the new girly pink & purple planner, I also picked up 5 one-subject notebooks, which will be the most I have been prepared for a new semester/year of school since....sixth grade. Maybe it'll stick. Or maybe I was just dragged to the University Bookstore by classmates on our break. I got a lot of gum samples out of the deal, though. AND I found out that the little tag you're supposed to cut off certain clothes before wearing them is still in a pair of shorts I own. I found this out entirely too late. Ultimately, I should have stolen the books, since everyone was prepared for me to beep (again) on the way out. Heh.

I spent Monday & Tuesday night in Lindenhurst. I realize now that I call both places home, as I had to change "I spent Monday & Tuesday night at home" to include what 'home' was in that sentence. My apprehension about spending less & less time there continues to grow. But I haven't spent a long enough period of time thinking about it, so I don't really know what I think about the entire ordeal. I may just wind up approaching it like I would most other things of a similar (apprehensive) nature: ignore it until it passes. Because, eventually, it will pass. I will proceed to go through the motions, and it will either go well or go badly. Pining over it certainly isn't going to help either situation, is it?

Tuesday was the most work-productive day I have had in a long while. I worked for a few hours at the Speech Center, then went home and did 2 hours or so of RA work, then I did another 2 hours or so of reading for class the next day. I neglected to do the extra credit. I meant to when I got home yesterday, but I forgot, and now it's too late. I'm really going to have to pick up the extra credit slack or study and write my ass off to get an A in this class. Sue likes me, and I know that, but I also know she's not going to give me an A for that reason. I honestly have to earn it, and my work and studying have been less than stellar. My work will reflect this if I don't get my act together.

Anyway, when it finally got down to bedtime Tuesday night, and I was photoless for the day, I decided to take a picture of my water bottle, because I have been and will continue to be unable to eat or drink anything other than water at least three hours prior to bedtime. It's part of the sleep class I'm in. We're doing our own mini-experiments regarding sleep habits and interventions. Only I know mine is going to fail miserably, and the only bad thing about that is that I have to explain why in my final paper. I'm fairly certain "because my hypothesis was whack" just isn't going to cut it. In any event, the water bottle never made it to print because something much more important occurred. I finally understood the "flower" feature of my camera. I've had that bad boy for a good four or five years now, and never have I grasped the concept of its function. Evidently the international symbol for 'macro,' the flower-feature (because its cooler to say than 'macro') allows my (and most all, I'd imagine) camera to focus on something directly in front of it. So I started playing around with it, and here's the best emphasized difference. First picture, mountain-feature (I'm sure it's a symbol for something, though I don't know what). Second picture, flower-feature.

The difference in background and contrast is utterly amazing to me. Maybe I'm just easily amused. But now I've been dying to take a picture of a flower, though I've yet to.

So I played around with that for a little while longer, before convincing myself it had been long enough since my last meal/drink/snack and headed to bed. I had only been away from Chris a day and a half, but by this point the missing had slowly started to creep back in. Packing stuff for the next day definitely helped tone down that emotion.

Wednesdays tend to be a tad on the treacherous side. A few hours at work, and then long, grueling hours at school. They're grueling mostly because all I want to do is get to Queens and avoid traffic, and staying until the end of the regularly scheduled class time would equate to the epitome of rush hour. So Wednesdays are the day I generally shake my leg under my seat in anticipation of leaving.

As I didn't do my extra credit dream paper, which, incidentally, would have taken me 20 minutes had I not forgotten about it, I decided to talk in class in an attempt to get the other potential extra credit point. I asked a question or two, and then, when class was slowing to a dream-relaying-by-every-person-in-the-room halt, I opted to cover the next section of notes and do a Freud summary. Thank you, Dr. Waters, for forcing me to spend half of an entire semester studying the nutbag that is Sigmund Freud.

When I finally got to Queens, I waited patiently (read: napped) for Chris to get home so we could go see The Dark Knight. I swear if I didn't have to pee through the entire last third of the movie, I would've loved it even more than I had already, which was a LOT. I am definitely going to see this flick in IMAX, and I'm kind of glad Joana wants to go with me. I understand Chris's reasons for not wanting to, and I don't blame him for it, but it's so unlikely I would go alone. Now we just have to follow through with the idea of going.

So after the long pee following the movie, Chris & I decided to improvise on dinner at home. (See what I mean about the 'home' thing??) After my whiny attitude proved little results, we settled on Spaghetti Os and Cheesyburger Chef Boyardee, mixed together. Don't worry, we classed it up with some merlot we acquired at a vineyard in Red Hook.

Upon consumption, we began the "hasn't Chef Boyardee always tasted like metal to you?" discussion, until it occurred to Chris that he owned a silicon spoon (from hiking/camping). After noticing a difference between utensils used, we decided the metallic taste comes from the metal spoon. So Chris used his silicon one. And I? I used whatever I could find...

Oh yeah, there were meatballs too.

We're broke, but were goddamn fun. :)

August ALREADY?!

Where oh where did the last...four days go? It appears as though that little problem I have of skipping the blogging when Chris and I are together needs to be remedied or this blog will quickly become extinct. In any event, he is here now and I am writing this next to him, so let this be step 1 in fixing the hardly-a-problem. See? Next to me. Playing Final Fantasy II.That game makes some seriously funny noises. Anyways, I'm still sitting in the same place on the couch as I have been basically since 10 this morning. I may have had a very sedentary day, but it was damn productive. I watch a movie, The Game, starring Michael Douglas & Sean Penn. I would describe it as...annoying, but good. Maybe a little overkilled as well. It's one of those "the game is to figure out the game" things, but through the whole thing you never know if anyone is lying or if anything is real or fake and what is coincidence or what is intentional and it's all just very...stressing. But it ended fairly well. I'm apparently a little sensitive, 'cause I actually let a tear escape.

Then again I got teary-eyed when I finished Barack Obama's book today as well. Seriously, if that man is evil, then he's fucking good at it. I'm totally voting for him. Throughout the entire book (The Audacity of Hope), all I could think was how he's just...dreaming. How he has this beliefs and ideals and they're so far removed from society and the government today, that he's going to find himself one very disappointed politician. Then I got to the Epilogue. Where he basically said, "yeah. I'm a dreamer. But what's the point in not trying?" Not in those words, obviously, but he made the point that if everyone gave up on ideals because they seemed far-fetched, we'd never make any real progress. And that, I believe in.

I did work for school, and homework for class (which included a nap because that text book is so boring), and I made some lunch and I cleaned up a bit. Like I said, I spent a vast majority of the day in one spot on the couch, alternating between sitting and laying. It was wild.

It appears as though I must do another recap for the past few days, though, so here goes (in reverse order than I usually do, because I'm just crazy like that):
Saturday: actually, this is best prefaced with a note from Friday. While driving home from Stony Brook circa 1am on Friday (Saturday), my check engine light came on. Calmly, and completely unlike me, I figured, "okay, I'll go tomorrow and get it looked at. I can get that oil change I've been avoiding for about 800 miles now as well." So Saturday morning, likely still drunk from the beer & whiskey of the evening prior, I dragged myself out of bed around 9, showered, and zombied my way to the dealership's service station in Oceanside. It was at least an hour wait to drop it off, so I went for a walk. With swollen feet (see Friday's summary) I walked through the pain and kept going. I picked up coke/pepsi bottle caps and just basically wandered. I took a few pictures, this one included. I basically had to duck to get out of the way of this tree's branches, and the flowers were so unique I had to try to capture them on film. Of course, the bud itself is too close for my camera to have focused on, so the leaves are quite clear, but the picture conveys enough of the point: Somewhere near 45 minutes after leaving the service shop I came to a coffee shop in Island Park and thought breakfast would be perfect, so I wandered inside. I had just ordered a mug of tea when I realized the extent of cash I had on me was a five dollar bill. I asked the kid behind the counter if they took credit, which he shook his head at in reply. He told me about the 7-11 down the block with an ATM. I ordered a $1.50 english muffin with butter instead. I enjoyed that shop immensely. Everyone seemed to know one another. The couple at a table behind me asked the boy behind the counter if he would come over next Saturday after work at the shop and help them set up for a beach party they were having that night.

It sparked all kinds of emotion within me. Perhaps it was all of the beachy novels I've read in my time, that revolved around a woman in a small town working at a small shop of sorts and finding love when she least expects it. Hey, I'm not proud that I've read them. I went through a phase, ok? Regardless, I felt like I needed to be part of a similar community. But my fear/anxiety when it comes to water and my ignorance when it comes to boats or surfing or any of those stereotypical beach activities prohibit me from feeling like I could ever make it there, or even manage slightly without feeling entirely outcast.

The internal back-and-forth proceeded for awhile. It was kind of a self-evaluation of sorts, a desire to know who I was and what defined me. I used to say I was defined by so many different things; little pieces of here-and-there that when combined together made me who I am. But that seems like such a cop-out. Like I can't decide on one thing, so I'm allowing myself to just say "oh, I like all of those." I'm still not sure which is right. And writing this has only made me think about it all over again. So in an attempt to get my mind out of emo-ville, I shall proceed with the events of my time away from blogger.

After I returned from the shop, which, by the way, charged me $55.00 to tell me the fuel cap coil was getting caught between the fuel cap and fuel tank and to "clear it and run an evap test," I hung out with my mother for a bit. I made plans to grab some lunch with Alex, which we did at Applebee's. Then we bopped over to King Kullen to do some minor grocery shopping. I went back to moms, loaded some stuff into my car to bring to Queens, and then came back here.

Chris & I attempted to go see The Dark Knight, which we have yet to, but the show we were going to sold out while we were on line and we didn't want to rush through a dinner to make a show we bought tickets in advance to, so we vowed to go to a showing this week. I cannot believe I've yet to see this damn movie. It's like the gods are working against me.

We dined at a little place on Austin St. called Bonfire, and I'm certain were I not heartburn-ridden, I would have devoured my sesame-ginger salmon salad. It was an overall enjoyable dinner and experience. However, within minutes of leaving the establishment, a flash of lightning and accompanying thunder brought us to the conclusion that we should swing back to the apartment and grab an umbrella before heading to Astoria just in case. With that, the rain began, and we took refuge under an awning until it wasn't as heavy a downpour. The rain lasted all of ten minutes, and we made it home in time to change, grab an umbrella and head back to the train. We did not need the umbrella for the remainder of the evening.

Drinks at McGinty's was fun. It was great to see Vinny again, back from Kazakhstan for a few weeks. I wish I had gotten to talk with him more. I kind of hope I/we get another opportunity to hang out with him before he returns.

The gin & tonics were many. Someone thought it was funny to keep buying them for me just as I was about to finish the one in my hand. They succeeded in getting me to stay longer. Unfortunately, it wasn't much longer because I was wasted fairly quickly and stumbled out just after 2am. I was asleep a little over an hour later.

Friday was the longest workday I have ever worked at Suffolk Speech. I was there for nine and a half hours. There was too much to do, and too little time to do it. So who knows if they'll pay me for it. They got mad last time I worked a few extra hours. I'm pretty sure this time around it's okay, because it's not an often occurrence. I'm up to 25 hours this week, but if possible, I'll just work a few less next week.

Anyway, after work I grabbed some beer & fruit and went to Fabian's for a cookout (I can't call it a BBQ if Anne Cooper calls it a cookout!) in honor of Owen's birthday. Owen couldn't go, though, due to a death in the family of a friend. But I met a bunch of Stony Brook U. people and we had a good time and good food and a lot of fun. The glass of whiskey iced the cake. It was refreshing and enjoyable to sit around with chicks drinking whiskey, talking girl talk.

The mosquito bites, though, I could have done without. I sprayed every inch of my body with whatever Off! product was around. Ever inch save for the side/bottom of my feet. I wound up with two semi-swollen feet by the end of the night. One got me on the top of the sole of my right foot, the other on the side by my pinky toe on my left food. It was wholly unpleasant to walk around on. Especially on Saturday, when I did a significant amount of walking.

I certainly couldn't spend very much time in it, but Fabian & Meagan have this hammock, which I have dubbed "the cocoon." I got lost in that thing while Dan took pictures.I thought I was perfectly fine to drive home, but looking back I'm not entirely certain it was a good idea. I don't often tempt fate like that (anymore), so I'm grateful as usual that I got back to Lindenhurst safely. I was asleep shortly after . Apparently, I'm not the drinker/partier I once was.

I have no photos and very little story for Thursday. That friend of Owen's whose family member passed away was also a friend of Chris's, so I joined him at the wake in Ossining Thursday evening. The morning was filled with nagging emo girl thoughts, which I washed away with an afternoon of Christine & Pinot Grigio, and the evening was spent traveling to and from Ossining and the wake.

Wednesday was so long ago, I barely remember it. I do recall Chris taking out his Warhammer models and arranging them on the shelf on the bottom of the table. I'm not sure he knows I even took this picture, but oh well. ;)I'm fairly certain we relaxed on Wednesday. It was his first night "home" so we watched a movie (Jumper, which was okay, but nothing to write home about in my opinion) and then did respective stuff (like play with Warhammer models or read or putz around on the internets). I think we got into a mini-argument about the cat and my inability to immediately discuss when something bothers or upsets me, but it wasn't too intense (know how I know? I didn't cry!) and I believe ultimately some understanding actually took place. I have vowed, however, to try to dull my initial reaction emotions and try to focus more on logic. Seems I vow that a lot, though.

So now it's just about 1am and, despite the napping, I'm getting a bit sleepy. So here's to another super-long blog. The good news is Chris doesn't have to sit on the phone listening to me say all of these things. The bad news is it took forever to write it all down. ;)

Night!