I have figured something out about my life, and it may or may not apply to others. As I'm trying to write my blog for me and only me, it's no concern of mine whether it's true to others or not. But since this is MY space and it's the only thing that's completely all about me, I'm throwing it out there.
I have come to realize that I like dreams. And I don't mean the stories that populate the brain while sleeping. I mean dreams as in desires or fantasies.
In the book "The Alchemist", there is a part that I loved so much that I wrote it down in my Thought Book- where I write down the sentences or paragraphs that strike my fancy from books that I've read or things that I've heard or even thoughts that I've had myself that I realized were great. In this book, basically, this boy is on a journey and has a conversation with an older man. The boy asks the man why he's never been to "Mecca" as the man has always dreamed of going there. The man explains to the boy that he does not want to actually go to Mecca because he likes to dream about it. That the reality would ruin the dream. That actually being there and seeing it would make the dream itself worthless.
I love that.
There are those things that I dream about but would never actually want to happen since it would make the fantasy a reality. And I don't care how many people want to believe that realizing your dreams is the only happiness in the world, it's not mine.
I personally believe that we all need something to hope for while fully knowing it will never happen. Or for the more intelligent people, knowing that if it does happen then there's no possible way it could measure up to what we set ourselves up for.
Some of these "dreams" that I have could be complete realities if I chose to make them so. Most of them would involve an extraordinary amount of time to see realized. And the thought of spending so much time just to have a wonderful ideal crushed is absolutely not worth it to me.
Like the older man in "The Alchemist", I like having my dreams remain pure and untainted. Which makes them unattainable. Yet I feel absolutely no sadness in that. I feel that by holding on to those dreams and keeping them pure, I am paying them more respect than I would if I actually obtained them and no longer had that sparking light to fantasize about.
Nobody can take away your dreams but yourself.
Much Love!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Change In Direction
So I'm sitting here in my little work-chair with wheels on it (which is usually at my work computer, not this old POS laptop I'm typing on now that sits on my filing cabinet) and realize that my floor is slanted. Every time I try to type I slide a little further back. Go Go Gadget Arms! Nope. Doesn't work. If only our fantasies were our realities.
Anyway...... I haven't blogged in far too long. I haven't written poetry or song lyrics or anything the slightest bit interesting in far too long. Did I lose my writing ability? Did I forget how to express myself? No.
I have realized that the things that have been on my mind lately are either silly little things that possibly only I find funny, or deep serious thoughts that I haven't felt like explaining/conveying. My mind is still there, my ability is still there, the words are still there. The only thing lacking is my motivation.
So I have decided that I don't care what I write. I used to have some crazy expectation of what my words would mean or how they would come across. I'm done with that. The title of my blog is "Not So Personal Diary". So I am going to start writing again. Writing with no expectation of myself. Nobody has to read it or care. I'm going to just write (type) and write (type). Anything I damn well feel like writing. Anything that pops into my head. Forget structure. Forget anything to do with normality. I'm tired of making sense. I'm done trying to write a blog post that means something.
From now on, my blog is nothing. Meanderings of this and that, opinions on the world, etc.
So........... thought this has already been long enough, I don't care. This is MY space. And I feel like saying something. Hate me for it all you want, I don't care. (Plus, I can just delete your angry and/or ignorant comment... Haha!)
I want to express my complete craving to punch kids in the face. Yes. You read that correctly. I don't have children. I don't like children. The only kids I like are the ones that are actually related to me. Other than that, shut them up. The whining, the crying, the pouting. Seriously? Yes, I know that it happens and you can't control them. I don't have any anger or hatred towards the Momma of said horrible children. I just hate kids. Keep them away from me. Unless they are funny and scream "She farted!!!" and then laugh. At Smith's. That's just comedy. Those are kids I like.
I got Cable TV. But I really wish I could just pick and choose the channels that I actually watch and pay only for them. Here's my reality that I'd actually pay for: The normal local channels (2, 4, 5, 11, 13), the History Channel, the Food Network, trueTV, Oxygen, MTV, Hallmark (yes, I need the occasional cheesy movie), Travel channel, the Soap channel (again, I do have a vagina and need some girl stuff every now and then), MTV2 (I LOVE Jackass.......), the Syfy channel, the Gameshow network, and................ that's it. Though I would need to keep the whole "On Demand" thing because I love me some stupid horror movies. But read on-
I went on the whole Cable TV issue because I am 31 years old and have Cable TV for the first time in my entire life. My childhood was a little interesting, to say the least. I learned how to adapt and change and be "acceptable" from a young age. I could complain and bitch and cry and be angry about it all now that I'm older and see everything in its sad reality. But I won't and I don't. I don't remember a time when I didn't feel loved. And isn't that what it's about? Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was messed up. Yes, it hurt. But.... I am capable of deciding what my past makes me. Do I decide to be pathetic and turn inward like every single person is just out to get me and attack me because I'm not good enough? Or do I decide to be simply ME. I (obviously) choose to be me. I am a little screwed up, a little distrustful, a little cynical, a little possessive, a little jealous, a little angry, a little upset. But I am also a lot centered, a lot loyal, a lot caring, a lot
strong, a lot capable of anything, a lot together, a lot confident.
Balance. I honestly believe that you can't be centered and balanced if you don't have doubt to match your faith. If you don't have a little self-doubt to match your complete self-confidence. If you don't have a bit of worry with your acceptance. Living is not living without risks.
Wow. I haven't written for a long time because I felt like I was writing for an audience that expected these amazing stories or poetic interludes or funny antics.
I'm writing for myself now. And it feels great.
Much Love!
Anyway...... I haven't blogged in far too long. I haven't written poetry or song lyrics or anything the slightest bit interesting in far too long. Did I lose my writing ability? Did I forget how to express myself? No.
I have realized that the things that have been on my mind lately are either silly little things that possibly only I find funny, or deep serious thoughts that I haven't felt like explaining/conveying. My mind is still there, my ability is still there, the words are still there. The only thing lacking is my motivation.
So I have decided that I don't care what I write. I used to have some crazy expectation of what my words would mean or how they would come across. I'm done with that. The title of my blog is "Not So Personal Diary". So I am going to start writing again. Writing with no expectation of myself. Nobody has to read it or care. I'm going to just write (type) and write (type). Anything I damn well feel like writing. Anything that pops into my head. Forget structure. Forget anything to do with normality. I'm tired of making sense. I'm done trying to write a blog post that means something.
From now on, my blog is nothing. Meanderings of this and that, opinions on the world, etc.
So........... thought this has already been long enough, I don't care. This is MY space. And I feel like saying something. Hate me for it all you want, I don't care. (Plus, I can just delete your angry and/or ignorant comment... Haha!)
I want to express my complete craving to punch kids in the face. Yes. You read that correctly. I don't have children. I don't like children. The only kids I like are the ones that are actually related to me. Other than that, shut them up. The whining, the crying, the pouting. Seriously? Yes, I know that it happens and you can't control them. I don't have any anger or hatred towards the Momma of said horrible children. I just hate kids. Keep them away from me. Unless they are funny and scream "She farted!!!" and then laugh. At Smith's. That's just comedy. Those are kids I like.
I got Cable TV. But I really wish I could just pick and choose the channels that I actually watch and pay only for them. Here's my reality that I'd actually pay for: The normal local channels (2, 4, 5, 11, 13), the History Channel, the Food Network, trueTV, Oxygen, MTV, Hallmark (yes, I need the occasional cheesy movie), Travel channel, the Soap channel (again, I do have a vagina and need some girl stuff every now and then), MTV2 (I LOVE Jackass.......), the Syfy channel, the Gameshow network, and................ that's it. Though I would need to keep the whole "On Demand" thing because I love me some stupid horror movies. But read on-
I went on the whole Cable TV issue because I am 31 years old and have Cable TV for the first time in my entire life. My childhood was a little interesting, to say the least. I learned how to adapt and change and be "acceptable" from a young age. I could complain and bitch and cry and be angry about it all now that I'm older and see everything in its sad reality. But I won't and I don't. I don't remember a time when I didn't feel loved. And isn't that what it's about? Yes, it was hard. Yes, it was messed up. Yes, it hurt. But.... I am capable of deciding what my past makes me. Do I decide to be pathetic and turn inward like every single person is just out to get me and attack me because I'm not good enough? Or do I decide to be simply ME. I (obviously) choose to be me. I am a little screwed up, a little distrustful, a little cynical, a little possessive, a little jealous, a little angry, a little upset. But I am also a lot centered, a lot loyal, a lot caring, a lot
strong, a lot capable of anything, a lot together, a lot confident.
Balance. I honestly believe that you can't be centered and balanced if you don't have doubt to match your faith. If you don't have a little self-doubt to match your complete self-confidence. If you don't have a bit of worry with your acceptance. Living is not living without risks.
Wow. I haven't written for a long time because I felt like I was writing for an audience that expected these amazing stories or poetic interludes or funny antics.
I'm writing for myself now. And it feels great.
Much Love!
Friday, March 12, 2010
Old Fashioned Romance vs Independence
My amazing sister Rachel and I have a weekly dinner date. It's a fabulous way for us to get together every week and spend time with each other. So two days ago over homemade French Dip sandwiches and steamed vegetables, we were discussing dating. (As is know to happen when you get two single females together who are both playing the dating game.)
Rachel recently had gone on a first date with a guy who insisted on holding the door, opening and shutting her car door, etc. The typical old-fashioned romantic things that were actually once upon a time an expectation in the process of "wooing" a woman. The "gentleman" thing to do. This particular guy would rush to get the door as Rachel is accustomed to getting her own doors. And then he said "Thank you for letting me be a gentleman".
It got me thinking.
As small of a thing as it is, it gives me extreme opposite feelings in both ways. Half of me loves the idea of the gentleman, of being treated like a lady of respect and attention. The other half of me hates it, as I don't need a man doing anything for me.
Did feminism pop the romantic bubble? Does a single woman's need to be strong and be on her own always trump the desire to be romanced and treated as men with good upbringings have been told to treat her?
I like romance. I like flowers, I like sweetness and kindness, I like random expressions of feeling, I'd like chocolates if I liked chocolate. Yet I feel uncomfortable sitting in a car while a man walks around to open the car door for me. It makes me feel as though I'm agreeing to the fact that I'm unable to do anything (like get out of the car) without a man giving me permission, and the man doing the extremely hard physical labor of opening a car door since little old me can't handle it. And then I realize that I'm being silly. However, knowing that I'm being silly doesn't necessarily make the feeling go away, does it?
So how is a poor man supposed to act this day and age? I honestly feel badly for single men. Us woman are complex creatures with thoughts and feelings that are so mixed up that it's no wonder men feel like we are alien beings.
A lot of women my age were taught by our parents and society itself that we are to grow up, marry, buy a house, have babies, raise them right, and then enjoy being a grandmother. When I was younger that's honestly what I expected for myself. Now here I am. Almost 31 years old, one divorce under my belt, my only "child" being of the canine sort, renting an apartment in the Avenues surrounded by college students, and making a living of my own. I like my life. I like where I am in life. I like my stability. I like my ability to care for myself without having to depend on anyone else.
And that's where it gets confusing.
The line between independence and dependency is blurred. Yet we seem to be able to pick and choose which parts of the whole male/female thing are blurry. Flowers = okay. Car door = not okay. What????
That makes no sense. It all boils down to one simple fact: only the woman knows if she needs doors opened for her. And if she doesn't need doors opened for her, she should be comfortable with that and appreciate the gesture when a man makes attempts at being a gentleman. If she's truly comfortable with her independence then it shouldn't matter one way or another. And another thing that us independent women need to realize is that no man really thinks to himself "I need to get the car door for her because she can't do it herself". He is simply trying to be respectful. Simple.
Personally, this independent woman has figured out that I would really love some old-fashioned romance.
Much Love!
Rachel recently had gone on a first date with a guy who insisted on holding the door, opening and shutting her car door, etc. The typical old-fashioned romantic things that were actually once upon a time an expectation in the process of "wooing" a woman. The "gentleman" thing to do. This particular guy would rush to get the door as Rachel is accustomed to getting her own doors. And then he said "Thank you for letting me be a gentleman".
It got me thinking.
As small of a thing as it is, it gives me extreme opposite feelings in both ways. Half of me loves the idea of the gentleman, of being treated like a lady of respect and attention. The other half of me hates it, as I don't need a man doing anything for me.
Did feminism pop the romantic bubble? Does a single woman's need to be strong and be on her own always trump the desire to be romanced and treated as men with good upbringings have been told to treat her?
I like romance. I like flowers, I like sweetness and kindness, I like random expressions of feeling, I'd like chocolates if I liked chocolate. Yet I feel uncomfortable sitting in a car while a man walks around to open the car door for me. It makes me feel as though I'm agreeing to the fact that I'm unable to do anything (like get out of the car) without a man giving me permission, and the man doing the extremely hard physical labor of opening a car door since little old me can't handle it. And then I realize that I'm being silly. However, knowing that I'm being silly doesn't necessarily make the feeling go away, does it?
So how is a poor man supposed to act this day and age? I honestly feel badly for single men. Us woman are complex creatures with thoughts and feelings that are so mixed up that it's no wonder men feel like we are alien beings.
A lot of women my age were taught by our parents and society itself that we are to grow up, marry, buy a house, have babies, raise them right, and then enjoy being a grandmother. When I was younger that's honestly what I expected for myself. Now here I am. Almost 31 years old, one divorce under my belt, my only "child" being of the canine sort, renting an apartment in the Avenues surrounded by college students, and making a living of my own. I like my life. I like where I am in life. I like my stability. I like my ability to care for myself without having to depend on anyone else.
And that's where it gets confusing.
The line between independence and dependency is blurred. Yet we seem to be able to pick and choose which parts of the whole male/female thing are blurry. Flowers = okay. Car door = not okay. What????
That makes no sense. It all boils down to one simple fact: only the woman knows if she needs doors opened for her. And if she doesn't need doors opened for her, she should be comfortable with that and appreciate the gesture when a man makes attempts at being a gentleman. If she's truly comfortable with her independence then it shouldn't matter one way or another. And another thing that us independent women need to realize is that no man really thinks to himself "I need to get the car door for her because she can't do it herself". He is simply trying to be respectful. Simple.
Personally, this independent woman has figured out that I would really love some old-fashioned romance.
Much Love!
Friday, January 22, 2010
Tourist? Never.
A question that people always ask others when you are getting to know them (which I'm noticing more now that I'm back in the dating scene) is: Have you ever travelled outside of the country?
It seems as if that is a defining question. As if a person is defined as a traveler, or not a traveler. Or defined as adventurous or not adventurous. So on and so forth.
I have never travelled. I've only been to a few states in the US itself, and have never needed a passport. I've never even been to Mexico. I suppose I just never had the money to travel, and now that I'm financially stable, none of my friends are. As confident as I am with my ability to be alone, travelling out of the country by my lonesome does not appeal. On top of that, I have no desire to be a tourist. To be more specific in regards to Europe in particular- I have absolutely no desire to visit Paris, or any trendy place to be a tourist.
If I were to ever head outside of the USA, my destinations would be more historical in nature. The attic where Anne Frank and family stayed. The museum demonstrating the obliteration of Pompei. The Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum. The Pyramids of Egypt. Etc. Sure, it would be grand and fun to see the sights shown in pictures and movies. The landmarks we've all seen so many times through technology. But that does not interest me. Mindless tourism doesn't do it for me.
But... there is one place that I would love to visit just for fun. Italy. Florence, Rome, Venice. If I ever get there, however, it is not going to be a random American just coming to take a look. My goal for Italy is to actually learn Italian. Actually rent an apartment instead of staying in a hotel. Actually spending a decent amount of time there. I'd get "in" with the locals. Find the amazing and interesting locally-knows hot spots and landmarks. More like temporarily live there instead of just in-and-out quick visiting. To me, that would be more meaningful than anything else.
I found some websites online that "teach" free Italian. But free doesn't mean good. I looked into the Rosetta Stone thing, but it's super expensive. So I guess I'll just keep looking it up and cross my fingers that I eventually find something that's good. Being fluent in Italian is a goal. It's good to have a goal.
That's all for now. It's just been on my mind with the whole dating "getting to know you" game.
Much Love!
It seems as if that is a defining question. As if a person is defined as a traveler, or not a traveler. Or defined as adventurous or not adventurous. So on and so forth.
I have never travelled. I've only been to a few states in the US itself, and have never needed a passport. I've never even been to Mexico. I suppose I just never had the money to travel, and now that I'm financially stable, none of my friends are. As confident as I am with my ability to be alone, travelling out of the country by my lonesome does not appeal. On top of that, I have no desire to be a tourist. To be more specific in regards to Europe in particular- I have absolutely no desire to visit Paris, or any trendy place to be a tourist.
If I were to ever head outside of the USA, my destinations would be more historical in nature. The attic where Anne Frank and family stayed. The museum demonstrating the obliteration of Pompei. The Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum. The Pyramids of Egypt. Etc. Sure, it would be grand and fun to see the sights shown in pictures and movies. The landmarks we've all seen so many times through technology. But that does not interest me. Mindless tourism doesn't do it for me.
But... there is one place that I would love to visit just for fun. Italy. Florence, Rome, Venice. If I ever get there, however, it is not going to be a random American just coming to take a look. My goal for Italy is to actually learn Italian. Actually rent an apartment instead of staying in a hotel. Actually spending a decent amount of time there. I'd get "in" with the locals. Find the amazing and interesting locally-knows hot spots and landmarks. More like temporarily live there instead of just in-and-out quick visiting. To me, that would be more meaningful than anything else.
I found some websites online that "teach" free Italian. But free doesn't mean good. I looked into the Rosetta Stone thing, but it's super expensive. So I guess I'll just keep looking it up and cross my fingers that I eventually find something that's good. Being fluent in Italian is a goal. It's good to have a goal.
That's all for now. It's just been on my mind with the whole dating "getting to know you" game.
Much Love!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Trying!
I feel like I NEED to blog, but don't have anything substantial to say. It's quite odd. Feeling the need to write something down, but unable to single out a thought from a scrambling mind....
I miss Montana. Not because of Michael, but because Montana is slow. Meaning people drive slow, people move slow, life is slow. I liked that. I liked that a lot. I'm not a person that is happy with a fast-paced world. I like to stop and smell the roses, if you will. And it just seems like back here in Utah, it's all GO GO GO GO GO GO GO. Make something of yourself! Be as social as you possibly can! Date! Drive! Run! Etc.....
I don't like expectations.
I suppose it's mostly that I have a hard time depending on people, as well as having a hard time being depended on. I love and care. It's true. But it takes a lot for me to actually come out of my shell (my Crab shell, apparently) and be a support system to anyone else. I feel like I'm attempting a backflip on a balance beam without any experience. I don't know how to balance out my independence with admitting that I need anyone. And I don't know how to balance out my caring and love to others without being too protective or too judgemental of others that may hurt those that I love, while also ignoring their phone calls because "I'm not in the mood to talk".
Basically, I am just one confused and probably misunderstood woman. I have a plan in place to figure out what is bothering me. I have something going on to help me know what I need to do. My last few blogs have been about missing parts of me. I am going to find those missing parts. I am going to grow and learn and experience and love.
And to clarify- I am not sad. I am not living in self-pity for anything. I am not depressed. I am just contemplating life, which is a habbit of mine. (And actually should be a habbit to all.....)
Anyways, I just wanted to blab for a bit on how I miss the "newness" (did I just make up that word???) of Montana, and that I am still constantly trying to find my own place in this existence we call "The World".
Much Love!
I miss Montana. Not because of Michael, but because Montana is slow. Meaning people drive slow, people move slow, life is slow. I liked that. I liked that a lot. I'm not a person that is happy with a fast-paced world. I like to stop and smell the roses, if you will. And it just seems like back here in Utah, it's all GO GO GO GO GO GO GO. Make something of yourself! Be as social as you possibly can! Date! Drive! Run! Etc.....
I don't like expectations.
I suppose it's mostly that I have a hard time depending on people, as well as having a hard time being depended on. I love and care. It's true. But it takes a lot for me to actually come out of my shell (my Crab shell, apparently) and be a support system to anyone else. I feel like I'm attempting a backflip on a balance beam without any experience. I don't know how to balance out my independence with admitting that I need anyone. And I don't know how to balance out my caring and love to others without being too protective or too judgemental of others that may hurt those that I love, while also ignoring their phone calls because "I'm not in the mood to talk".
Basically, I am just one confused and probably misunderstood woman. I have a plan in place to figure out what is bothering me. I have something going on to help me know what I need to do. My last few blogs have been about missing parts of me. I am going to find those missing parts. I am going to grow and learn and experience and love.
And to clarify- I am not sad. I am not living in self-pity for anything. I am not depressed. I am just contemplating life, which is a habbit of mine. (And actually should be a habbit to all.....)
Anyways, I just wanted to blab for a bit on how I miss the "newness" (did I just make up that word???) of Montana, and that I am still constantly trying to find my own place in this existence we call "The World".
Much Love!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Insomnia The Sequel
So I sit here again after battling with sleep. When it really boils down to it, I am weak and my desire to sleep never kicks the ass of my inability to sleep. The side-affects of having an active mind. Time for bed? NOPE! The brain decides to keep on churning out its chaotic butter. Damn the active mind!
The door is cracking and the ceiling is creaking. My dog is snoring and I'm not sleeping.
I am in love with the thought of being in love. But only the thought of it. The reality of it terrifies me. I am content with my apartment and my dog and my sole control of the remote and my ability to keep the heat how I want it and the lights glowing until it's bedtime. I am strong and able and confident being alone. And I am in love with the THOUGHT of being in love..... Complications galore, my dears.
I dream crazy dreams where people combine into one. Many people in my life combined into one person. Or many people in my life where in my dream they keep changing characters. It's this person, and then that person, and then this other person, and then that new person, and then... you get the point. A friend told me that I'm trying to create the perfect person in my dreams. That the changing people, or combined people, mean that I'm trying to take the best parts of everyone and making them one perfect person. The truth? I have no idea. Dreams are just dreams. Everyone thinks differently so how can one person's dream have the same meaning as another's?
Okay, so speaking of dreaming- I am now going to try again to sleep. And dream my crazy dreams.
I was going to apologize for the random blog, but it's MY blog and if you read it- you read it for a reason. Including my crazy sleep-deprived attempts at forming a thought.
Much Love!
The door is cracking and the ceiling is creaking. My dog is snoring and I'm not sleeping.
I am in love with the thought of being in love. But only the thought of it. The reality of it terrifies me. I am content with my apartment and my dog and my sole control of the remote and my ability to keep the heat how I want it and the lights glowing until it's bedtime. I am strong and able and confident being alone. And I am in love with the THOUGHT of being in love..... Complications galore, my dears.
I dream crazy dreams where people combine into one. Many people in my life combined into one person. Or many people in my life where in my dream they keep changing characters. It's this person, and then that person, and then this other person, and then that new person, and then... you get the point. A friend told me that I'm trying to create the perfect person in my dreams. That the changing people, or combined people, mean that I'm trying to take the best parts of everyone and making them one perfect person. The truth? I have no idea. Dreams are just dreams. Everyone thinks differently so how can one person's dream have the same meaning as another's?
Okay, so speaking of dreaming- I am now going to try again to sleep. And dream my crazy dreams.
I was going to apologize for the random blog, but it's MY blog and if you read it- you read it for a reason. Including my crazy sleep-deprived attempts at forming a thought.
Much Love!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Insomnia
It's 2:11 AM as I start to blog. I've been trying to sleep for the past two hours, and sleep is playing a mind-reader's game of hide and seek. It hides, all I can seem to do is seek. So after lying there turning from my left side, to my right side, to my stomach, to my back, and over and over again, I realize that sleep is not cuddling up to me tonight and I may as well share my nightime meanderings.
Utah feels weird. All the sights are familiar. All the people are comfortable. I've got some new furniture, but an old soul. I've got some new neighbors, but the same old story. Jessica. Single. Alone. Independent. Looking for something to fill the hole inside me.
On that last statement, I will now go further. I don't know what my "meaning" is in life. I don't know what role I am supposed to fill. I keep trying and will never give up on anything that I feel is important enough to strive for. But what is it that I really desire? Sometimes it just seems like I float through life with no ambition, or motivation, or knowledge. As I've stated before, I took a chance with moving to Montana. And if felt good. It really did. But is picking up my life and moving everytime I feel unsettled the way to go? Do I just bounce around from city to city, town to town, state to state? Just hoping that I finally find that feeling of belonging? That feeling of peace? That feeling of I'm where I'm supposed to be?
I think that's why it was so easy to move to Montana. I was bored in Utah. I wanted an adventure. I wanted to actually take a risk in this life that has always been so predictable for me. I wanted an excuse and reason to do something MORE. And now here I am, back in Utah. Back where everything is boring and comfortable and predictable.....
Lack of slumber, lack of emotion, lack of culpability. I'm lacking, if you will.
Who the hell am I? Am I Jessica the friend? Am I Jessica the family member? Am I Jessica the ex-girlfriend? Am I Jessica the dog-owner? Am I Jessica the initiated? Am I Jessica the explorer? Am I Jessica the gambler? Am I Jessica the lone wolf? Am I Jessica the writer? Am I Jessica the sacrifice? Am I Jessica the hopeless? Am I Jessica the hopeful?
I have no idea. I want to find myself, but how does one go about doing that? The typical response would be "spend time alone", but I already do that (and have been doing it for the past 7 years or more). I guess that in the middle of this December night, I'm praying to a God I don't necessarily believe in that I can find a way to live a life I actually want. A life that's MINE. A life that will satisfy me. A life that doesn't include or exclude anyone or anything. A life that fulfills. Please, I'm praying. I need to get a life. (Pun intended.)
I will wake up tomorrow and work my 8 hours of work. I will watch my TV show. I will talk to people on the phone and/or over text. I will go to the store to replenish my groceries since I've been cooking a lot. I will pet my dog. I will say hello and be cheerful to anyone that I come across. I will put together the two bookshelves that my Mom D gave me for early Christmas. I will unpack the rest of my boxes. I will feel proud that my apartment looks good. I will walk around in a T-shirt with no bra, and boxer shorts, when I'm officially home for the night. I will make myself lunch. I will do the dishes. I will check CNN to see if anything interesting is happening in the world. I will put a piece of paper through my shredder since it makes me smile. I will look into what I'm wanting to do for Christmas and hope there is time to finish it. I will spend money on something that is needed to complete said Christmas presents. I will put my clean pants in their respective spots in my closet. I will update my Facebook status. I will take a shower and brush my teeth. I will drink a bunch of glasses of milk. All this will be done tomorrow, and it doesn't mean much of anything to me. Because I am lost.
The crazy thing about it all is that though I do miss Michael, I don't think about him very much. Out of sight, out of mind. Horrible, I know. The end of a 2-year relationship should have more of an impact on me. I mean it does, but it doesn't. I suppose most of that is that I wasn't ever his Number One and I always knew it. So I suppose I prepared myself for this, expected it even. When you expect something to happen and it does, it's hard to feel shocked or amazed, or even completely sad about it. Damn, that's a hard one to explain. Because I do feel sad, but I don't. Blah on that subject. Emotional complications galore.
I want to learn to play the guitar. I want to write my book. I want to groom dogs. I want to walk on the beach. I want to go on a cruise. I want to lose weight. I want to shoot my 9mm. I want to get a new "look". I want to listen continually to the cast of "Glee" on youtube. I want to find my MP3 player. I want to staple papers together. I want to find a perfume that I love. I want to sing karaoke without feeling ashamed. I want to stop doing everything for other people. I want to love someone that loves me back just as much. I want to get a second dog. I want.....
Okay. This blog is getting way too long. I just CAN'T SLEEP. I'm going to take Sunni on a walk around the cemetary that I live across the street from. And think think think think think think think think think think.
Not just temporary satisfaction, but long term contentment....... Who is Jessica and what does she really want from life?
Much Love!
Utah feels weird. All the sights are familiar. All the people are comfortable. I've got some new furniture, but an old soul. I've got some new neighbors, but the same old story. Jessica. Single. Alone. Independent. Looking for something to fill the hole inside me.
On that last statement, I will now go further. I don't know what my "meaning" is in life. I don't know what role I am supposed to fill. I keep trying and will never give up on anything that I feel is important enough to strive for. But what is it that I really desire? Sometimes it just seems like I float through life with no ambition, or motivation, or knowledge. As I've stated before, I took a chance with moving to Montana. And if felt good. It really did. But is picking up my life and moving everytime I feel unsettled the way to go? Do I just bounce around from city to city, town to town, state to state? Just hoping that I finally find that feeling of belonging? That feeling of peace? That feeling of I'm where I'm supposed to be?
I think that's why it was so easy to move to Montana. I was bored in Utah. I wanted an adventure. I wanted to actually take a risk in this life that has always been so predictable for me. I wanted an excuse and reason to do something MORE. And now here I am, back in Utah. Back where everything is boring and comfortable and predictable.....
Lack of slumber, lack of emotion, lack of culpability. I'm lacking, if you will.
Who the hell am I? Am I Jessica the friend? Am I Jessica the family member? Am I Jessica the ex-girlfriend? Am I Jessica the dog-owner? Am I Jessica the initiated? Am I Jessica the explorer? Am I Jessica the gambler? Am I Jessica the lone wolf? Am I Jessica the writer? Am I Jessica the sacrifice? Am I Jessica the hopeless? Am I Jessica the hopeful?
I have no idea. I want to find myself, but how does one go about doing that? The typical response would be "spend time alone", but I already do that (and have been doing it for the past 7 years or more). I guess that in the middle of this December night, I'm praying to a God I don't necessarily believe in that I can find a way to live a life I actually want. A life that's MINE. A life that will satisfy me. A life that doesn't include or exclude anyone or anything. A life that fulfills. Please, I'm praying. I need to get a life. (Pun intended.)
I will wake up tomorrow and work my 8 hours of work. I will watch my TV show. I will talk to people on the phone and/or over text. I will go to the store to replenish my groceries since I've been cooking a lot. I will pet my dog. I will say hello and be cheerful to anyone that I come across. I will put together the two bookshelves that my Mom D gave me for early Christmas. I will unpack the rest of my boxes. I will feel proud that my apartment looks good. I will walk around in a T-shirt with no bra, and boxer shorts, when I'm officially home for the night. I will make myself lunch. I will do the dishes. I will check CNN to see if anything interesting is happening in the world. I will put a piece of paper through my shredder since it makes me smile. I will look into what I'm wanting to do for Christmas and hope there is time to finish it. I will spend money on something that is needed to complete said Christmas presents. I will put my clean pants in their respective spots in my closet. I will update my Facebook status. I will take a shower and brush my teeth. I will drink a bunch of glasses of milk. All this will be done tomorrow, and it doesn't mean much of anything to me. Because I am lost.
The crazy thing about it all is that though I do miss Michael, I don't think about him very much. Out of sight, out of mind. Horrible, I know. The end of a 2-year relationship should have more of an impact on me. I mean it does, but it doesn't. I suppose most of that is that I wasn't ever his Number One and I always knew it. So I suppose I prepared myself for this, expected it even. When you expect something to happen and it does, it's hard to feel shocked or amazed, or even completely sad about it. Damn, that's a hard one to explain. Because I do feel sad, but I don't. Blah on that subject. Emotional complications galore.
I want to learn to play the guitar. I want to write my book. I want to groom dogs. I want to walk on the beach. I want to go on a cruise. I want to lose weight. I want to shoot my 9mm. I want to get a new "look". I want to listen continually to the cast of "Glee" on youtube. I want to find my MP3 player. I want to staple papers together. I want to find a perfume that I love. I want to sing karaoke without feeling ashamed. I want to stop doing everything for other people. I want to love someone that loves me back just as much. I want to get a second dog. I want.....
Okay. This blog is getting way too long. I just CAN'T SLEEP. I'm going to take Sunni on a walk around the cemetary that I live across the street from. And think think think think think think think think think think.
Not just temporary satisfaction, but long term contentment....... Who is Jessica and what does she really want from life?
Much Love!
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