Positive thoughts and Prayers for my uncle.

This afternoon my mother picked the lock on my bedroom door, crawled into bed with me and started crying hysterically. It’s happened before; she’s depressed, she feels like a terrible person for the divorce and because she stayed with my dad for so long, subjecting my little brother and myself to his abuse (she never considers the abuse she went through which was significantly worse, only that she stayed for what she thought were the right reasons that turned out to be wrong), she cries from stress because money is an issue and one hundred other things she thinks are her fault and her fault alone.

So when she came into my room, I put my arm around her and held her as I’ve done so many times since 2006 without question. It took her a good fifteen minutes before she opened her mouth to tell me what was wrong. 

It turns out my uncle (her older brother) had a pontine stroke at the end of this last weekend, and we had just gotten the call. He’s alive and she was able to talk to him, but his speech is poor and he’s lacking muscle control and his mortar fuctions throughout the left side of his body. He’s looking at physical therapy for at least the next three months. 

There’s a lot I want to say… I’m afraid for him and for my aunt, and their daughter. I’m afraid for my mom and my aunt Sandra, who have looked up to him their entire lives. I’m just afraid, I guess. As much as I deal with death and sickness, it never gets any easier. 

It’s hurting my mom something fierce not to be with him right now. They moved to Wisconsin almost three years ago now, and we don’t have the finances to visit. She’s been upset all day and I know there’s nothing I can really do for her.

I feel numb and alone, and I don’t really know what to do for anyone, least of all myself.

To be honest, I’m having another moment of jealousy at those in my life who think they have problems or they have it bad, when they’re so ridiculously lucky without knowing it. I know it’s unfair to judge another persons pain by my own, but I’m just… tired of feeling this way. Like nothing will ever get better, and when it starts to seem like it might, fate pushes another obstacle in the way.

If you could all send prayers to my uncle Bruce, to the rest of our family, that would be greatly appreciated. He’s the only thing I have that resembles a father figure and I love him very much. He’s done so much to help my mom through this time and I know that if something worse were to happen to him, my mom would be completely lost.

On being left behind.

One of the worst things, in my experience, is having questions but none of the answers. Another is being the one who is left, for no reason or without explanation. I always figured it would be one of those things that would fade after time, but instead, I dream about him coming back and having my numerous questions answered. I dream of being fulfilled in a way I haven't been since his disappearance from my life without a word. It feels mildly pathetic to even write about this... that if someone leaves and doesn't have the decency to allow you closure, you're better off without them. But here I am, at four in the morning biting back tears that I've been fighting since he left.

Maybe if the offence hadn't be committed what seems almost a life-time ago now, I would feel less ridiculous posting about how devastated I still feel by his absence; but living with such an open-end has given me allowance to want and to wish... most foolishly it has allowed me hope. I had hoped that if I missed him so stupidly, so terribly, he would miss me too, just as desperately. But I am not that girl.

The type of girl I am, unfortunately, is the type that's easy to leave. My own father doesn't love me, why would any other man? I am the type of girl who is easy to leave without as much as a goodbye, or I'm sorry.

Since he left, I've been filling my time with random guys... hoping to feel something. And I really came close, but even then, I only cared because we had been friends for so long. And even so, through the random embraces and beds and encounters, I've hoped for a phone call or a text message, or something. I just wanted to know that he was sorry.

It blows my mind how hard it is when someone just leaves. I just never thought... the lack of a single word could hurt so much. Or continue to hurt for so long. Maybe it was because of the declaration only days before; "I want you, I want everything about you... your baggage, all of it, as long as I can have you too." Maybe it would be easier if we hadn't been planning a trip for me to see him, or for him to come see me the next month. And how we would navigate a long-distance relationship that involved seeing one another at least once a month, but hopefully more.

And now, I realize just how much he's forgotten about me. While I've sat here hoping beyond hope for anything, he's moved on and probably hasn't looked back once.

I hope she knows how lucky she is to have someone willing to drive 30 hours just to see her. And I hope she thinks that your laughter is the singularly best sound she's ever heard, because it is. I hope that you call her on your five minute smoke break, just to hear her voice, because I know that was the best part of my day and that it could be hers, too. I hope that she appreciates your humor, because it's the type of humor that deserves an understanding audience wherever it goes.I hope she is everything that you want, and everything I apparently couldn't be or didn't get the chance to be (or are those the same thing in end?). I hope that your care for her is unconditional and that you allow yourself to do it freely and without ghosts. More than any of that though, I hope you love her. And I hope if one day you ever decide to leave, that you give her a reason. Any reason, as long as you let her know you're leaving and you won't be coming back. I would hate to think there is another girl in this world, hurting and waiting for you, the way I have.

I hope she loves you, in the ways I was never given the chance to. And I hope that if one day she ever decides to leave, I hope she gives you a reason. Any reason, as long as she lets you know she's leaving and she won't be coming back. I would hate to think of anyone, especially you, hurting and waiting for someone, the way I have hurt and waited for you.

Random Clothing

I got these in the mail today! The grey sixties looking tunic is actually black, but the flash has blown it out a bit. It's also a bit small in the chest, but I love it. I love them all, really. And I'm so grateful for other fashion bloggers who enjoy exchanging clothes, lol. This is obviously not my fashion blog, but I wanted to share these because they are just too cute not to.

The almost nautical dress is from New Look
The mod tunic is from Atmosphere
And the Skull top is from Topshop.

Love, love, love.

Missing my Monster.

It's been too long now since I've seen my 'big baby' nephew, and saying I miss him just doesn't do it justice.

I remember the day he was born; where I was, what was happening, who I was with, and how none of the shitty stuff I had been going through mattered the moment I got the got announcement of his birth via text and saw his face for the first time in the picture attachment. It hadn't mattered that I was arguing with my ex-boyfriend, with whom I had had broken up only ten days before about the ring he gave me when we were together. And it hadn't mattered that I had spent the night in the bottom bunk of my best friend's house, awake and ripe with countless anxieties rolling through me. The small towheaded child who had been in the world scant minutes, changed everything for me.

This will probably sound weird and I'm not entirely sure how to put this...

But once he was born, my entire perspective changed. And it was because there was now this little person with the family nose and the sweetest face, who shared my blood and my name. Immediately I wanted to combat the entire world because it had the potential to hurt him. I wanted to fight the would be bullies and tell off the less than compassionate teachers; I wanted to threaten the women or men he would someday fall in love with, just so they knew to be careful with his precious heart.

And when I held him for the first time? Those feelings were multiplied by the thousands.

Watching him grow for the last five years has been one of the best pleasures of my entire life. He was once this colicky bundle, of good and bad baby everything and I loved to watch him fall asleep in my arms. And what I loved more than that, was watching him wake up and smile this new-baby grin that said, 'hey, you're vaguely familiar... hi, thanks for keeping me warm!'

And now, he truly lives up to the nickname I gave him at one month old: Hayden Monster. In his spare time, he has his mom spray paint his hair red and blue; he races around the living room with tissue boxes on his feet and he sometimes refers to his little brother as 'my sister, Tony.' His favorite and best obsession is Disney's Cars, though if you put anything remotely cartoonish on, he'll sit still for a total of an hour. If you're lucky. He more often than not sports temporary tattoos, and is probably the coolest kindergartener that has ever existed on the planet. I'm not biased or anything, of course.

This is the same little boy, who even though he's almost as tall as his old 'Annie Molly,' will beg me to pick him up and carry him-- because he knows I'm a sucker for those big blue eyes and that mischievous little smile. He's the one who doesn't understand the difference between facial piercings and the dreaded 'booboo' and strikes a deal: if I kiss your booboo (random piercing), you'll kiss mine (any random assortment of scrapes)!

And even though it annoys the ever living shit out of me, he is the one who will bang on my double doors at 8am each morning, after I've had barely any sleep, so that I will come and play with him. Or more aptly put: feed him breakfast and watch cartoons, and then turn on the video games (Mario Racing is his favorite)... so I can watch him play, because I'm apparently not as good as uncle Jon. But even so, I'm the one he wakes up and wants to spend his time with while the rest of the house is asleep.

To his chagrin, occasionally on those mornings when I haven't had enough sleep, I will feed him breakfast and while we watch cartoons, I will eventually drift back into my rest... while cuddling him so fiercely, he has no choice but lay back down with me.

He is a terror to take out shopping. Or to restaurants. Or any establishment with other people while I'm otherwise occupied. He flirts constantly with every little girl he sees and isn't shy one bit about it, either. When he doesn't get his way, he knows how to throw the most magnificent tantrums. That is, until I sit him in front of mirror so he can see how ridiculous he's being and he starts laughing hysterically. He bites because he knows it hurts, but then he'll wrap his arms around my neck to tell me I'm his favorite and apart of his 'gang'. And sometimes, even when he gets what he asks for, he isn't happy.

In no way, shape, or form do I envy young mothers, or single parents. Having him to myself for more than a few days is nerve wrecking and all I want is some 'adult' time. But I love hearing his laugh and I love hearing his stories of adventure. Nothing makes me happier than when I pick up the phone and it's his voice at the other end, begging me to come visit or to come live with him, or to come get him so he can live with me.

I miss my Monster so much, there aren't words that really describe it.

All I know is that someday, he'll be sixteen (just like I was when he was born) and I hope beyond hope, that he doesn't think he's too grown up to be kissed and hugged by his silly Annie Molly.

Weird and Wonderful

A few summers ago, every morning I would go out in my backyard and bird watch.
I miss that simple silliness.

I have a new (read: old) camera that I need to go out and buy film for. I'm excited to get back into the swing of things. Once I have it fixed, I'm going to take a picture a day for the following thirty days. That's my new thing: thirty day projects, thanks to TED.

One picture every day for thirty, one new poem or short story every day for thirty, no soda (which I shouldn't have to start up again, but do; having my brother home means there's a ton of soda in the house.... so gross, but I can't resist it. Time to put my foot back down). There's a number of other things, but I'm going to start small, and start with the one I know I can maintain: no soda.

I won't rant about how truly gross it is...
Ugh. But not drinking soda for however long, I felt so much better! Now that it's back in my life, I feel slow and sluggish and am sick more often. It's just not good news, buddies. Water, milk, lemonade, iced tea and occasionally coffee is the ticket.

On the whole, I've been feeling this weird mixture of better and worse, which probably doesn't sound too different from how I normally feel. But the last few days, I've realized (remembered) things about myself that I had forgotten in the fray of life. Like, I enjoy eating healthy foods, but don't because sometimes it's just so much easier to slap an almost ready meal in the oven or microwave. I miss walking everywhere, and once the weather isn't "oh my god, you're probably going to die the moment you step a toe outside hot," I'm going to do it more (read: locally, close enough that a car isn't necessary). I feel like a bum now that I'm not in school, I feel sort of useless and I'm now remembering how much of my identity comes from being 'that' girl; turning out A's almost every day of the week and taking notes like it's no one's business. I was going through my old papers and notes last night and I felt this gigantic pang of regret, but I know I'll be back to it once I'm on my feet again.

But most of all, I've remembered how absolutely okay I am by myself.

After Ronnie died, I needed constant attention and care. It probably seems like an exaggeration, but I was out almost every day and night, filling my time so I didn't have to feel anything while I was alone. It didn't work, not really; but I sort of lost myself in that need to constantly be around another person. For months, I've been running on empty constantly to please other people, because they are that type of people normally. They have no problem being sandwiched in constantly, they have no problem surrounding themselves with faces and people and places all of the time. I, on the other hand, love my alone time. I need it, crave it, will go days without seeing anyone outside of my family because I don't need to be out, doing something to placate my boredom-- I am a master in the art of self-entertainment.

Other people need to be constantly validated and reassured that their presence is wanted, that their friendship or love is paramount, while I'm content reading all day and doing family things. I'm just not that person who needs someone surgically attached to their hip to make-real the friendships I have. If I want to do something, I will more than likely do it by myself if someone else doesn't feel like doing it with me; I don't need someone to hold my hand or promise to be my best friend until the end of time every single day. I know the friendships I can count on at the end of the day, and they usually aren't the ones who constantly reassure me that they're my number one fan or whatever.

I just don't need other people, the way other people need other people (redundant as fuck). And sometimes I wonder if that means there's something wrong with me; if I'm cold-hearted or wrong because of it. Then I remember how deeply I feel every little thing... and I know without a doubt that isn't true. It just isn't who I am, no matter how odd it may seem to others. I don't think it will ever change (it's one of the reasons I'm so terrible at dating).

I won't be the person to constantly say, I'm your best friend. And I probably won't fall all over myself to tell you how much you mean to me, every second of every day. And on the days I need 'me' time, there's no reason to take it personally, it's just sort of essential to who I am.

However, I can almost guarantee you that if I love you, you will know it. That's the best I can.

Personally, I try to think of this as a strength rather than a weakness.

But yeah.

Other than that weird tangent, I went out last week to the dueling pianos bar I love. I had a really good time and it was all-around an incredibly fun night. I've made friends with the gay pianist; he absolutely loves me and he's the sweetest. He sat with us before the show and we girl talked, interacted with us all night during the show, and even stopped in the middle of a song to give me hugs and kisses.

Divorce is still in full-swing.

Jon goes back to school soon.

I'm just trying to do a collective overhaul on myself and my life; making things better one step at a time. Keeping the idea of Washington in front of me as a motivator for everything, and to remind me of the future I have planned when life seems to get too tricky.

If you don't become lost, you won't find anything new.

I stumbled across that quote the other day and since, I've been doing a lot of thinking. For the last few weeks I've been fairly depressed and sick, not getting out of bed for anything and sleeping like the dead. I won't go in to how, what, and why, but I've been feeling pretty sorry for myself.

Growing up, there was very few things I was want for and being this close to losing everything I've ever known has brought me down a few notches. And worse, I don't really feel like there's anyone I can talk to about it. Talking to my mom, I only upset her. Talking to my friends, it's hard to relate; most of them have been handed everything they've ever wanted (just yesterday, I got a text from a friend saying her parents had bought her a car. She's 18, she's never had a job and gets handed $100 bills every time she leaves her house), just because we live in a very entitled society and more than that, we are classic suburbia and everything is meant to be perfection. There are a few who know struggle, but it still feels on another level. Most likely because I'm living it and can't see past my own selfishness, but I feel like a burden to friends as it stands. I can't go out unless the get together is free or close to, which means dinners and movies and shopping are all out. And there isn't much else to do in our city. Except for dance and drink and house parties... and while I love going out and having a good time with friends, even those things are draining. I've just felt stuck and sorry for myself.

But enough about that; since my last real update I've made a few changes in my life.

The first and probably most important is I'm trying another bout of celibacy. The year and a half I had gotten through a few years ago did me good, and I really think it's a good place for me to be in right now. It doesn't mean I'm opposed to dating, but I'm not actively pursuing anything and don't really plan on changing that anytime soon. This year with guys has been... interesting to say the least, but after my first one night stand, I needed to take a step back. To be perfectly honest, this isn't as important to me as everyone thinks it should be. A conversation with a friend the other day reminded me that women are supposed to want to be in a relationship or talking or entertaining the idea of someone constantly, and if we're not, we're less of a woman because of it. It sort of made me sick to my stomach. Fortunately I'm able to stand on my own two feet without a man at my back... scandalous, I know.

I got my first tattoo and I love it! It's the Deathly Hallows from Harry Potter and it means more to me than I could possibly tell you.

I'm no longer in school, mostly due to the fact that I can't afford it right now and I'm not getting any support, least of all from my father who sent me an email not even a month ago, lecturing me on the proper decorum of a 21 year old lady. I sent him an email back letting him know that the standard rules of common courtesy and civility extend to men in their 60's and he should learn them first-- before demanding respect out of me when he gives none to no one.

I'm set on moving to Washington within the next two years. Details: there are none. I'm excited though, and nervous.

I'm also looking into teaching English abroad. My friend suggested English tutoring to make money and then the next day, another friend posted on facebook that they were leaning towards TELF. It seemed like kismet to me.

What I really wanted to write about, however is the quote. Like I said, it's made me think and I suppose in a way, has changed the way I think as well. Lately I've forgotten that life never goes the way you hope for or plan for. Yes, I'm in a bad situation now and it's scary... I'm at a loss constantly with how to act or how to handle what my life looks like. But I have to remind myself that the best parts of my life been born out of the hardest parts of it.

Nothing good comes from nothing, and I've learned that the good, for me, is sweetest when I've overcome loss or worked through my own demons. I know that this, just as anything else, is a true trial of self. And with everything that has come to pass, I've been better for having to pull myself up from the floor and fighting for my happiness.

If I have to be lost for a while longer, I know that the reward will be greater. And I know that at the end of this mess, I will be better for having survived it.

I'm exhausted... I just felt as if I needed to update. I've been up for almost 17 hours and woke up with a terrible hangover.

Oh! My cousin was married yesterday in the sweetest ceremony I've ever seen. They married on a mountain in the apple orchards (a staple from my childhood memories), under an alter of branches that read SWEET LOVE.

It was beautiful. Everything and everyone, and it felt so good to be surrounded by my maternal family! All of us cousins together, with the notable and sad exception of Jill who died just over two years ago and my grandmother (though I wore her favorite necklace so I could carry her close to my heart). It's nice now that we're all older; drinking and rhapsodizing in our fine dresses and suits in an open field. I was happy to be there to celebrate love and the bonds that keep us whole.