Monday and Tuesday it felt like I had done a hard-cord ab workout. Which I kinda did, but not because I was exercising, more like puking six times, most of those six times it took several tries to actually puke. So my stomach was super sore. But I'm over that.
The more I think about it, the more I'd like to have my own place for my last year of college. I have to talk to my dad about it though, because it's significantly more expensive to live alone and while I'm in college he pays for my living and food. But I'm getting increasingly more partial to the idea of running my own place and not having to please anyone but myself, not having to make compromises about certain things that I like and that make me feel more comfortable. I think I'd like it. It would only be for one school year which would be fine because after college I'll be looking forward to getting a job and settling down-ish and preparing to take care of my own family eventually. Anyway, I don't need to go into this again, I just did a few days ago.
About that settling down.....I think I'm starting to get the vaguest trace of wanting to be done with school. Well, I'm in between, leaning more toward the still liking school phase. Really, I'm still enjoying identifying myself as a college student out on her own. But the future, although ever so blurry, is starting to paint itself in front of me. Not all the answers to my questions are unfolding and I definitely do not know what I want to do career-wise. I really don't know what I'll do with my degree yet...perhaps I'll figure it out last minute, or maybe it'll take a while to figure it out and I'll work some less-steady job to get started.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
read with caution
There's this sandwich place in the food court on campus which makes these chicken salad and bacon wraps...so good! I always get it on a jalapeno tortilla, with provolone, lettuce, tomato and mustard. Mmmm. I am scarfing it down as I type.
The point of this story is that I'm glad my appetite is back up. Let me enlighten you...(Disclaimer: may ruin your appetite, read with caution. Not for those with weak stomachs)
Sunday I started getting a migraine around 11 am, so I laid down in a dark room for four hours, which sucked because I missed my grandma's birthday party. Then Jake and I left for Cruces later than we wanted to because I wouldn't have been able to bear being in a car with my condition. I got a little better, but then we had to stop in Santa Fe and I threw up at a gas station there, which was for the best because my migraines usually subside after I barf, isn't that pleasant? Then I ate a small ham and cheese and cracker lunchable (it took me like an hour to finish because I thought I'd get sick again if I ate it all right away). So I got home and was feeling pretty much better and went to sleep about 10:30. Then at 2 am I woke up feeling nauseous, and went and puked in the bathroom, but because I had barely eaten anything on Sunday because of said migraine and the lunchable was already digested and in my system, I had nothing to throw up, so it was pretty much dry heaving followed by stomach acid....lovely. I felt better after that, but the same thing happened at 3 am. And 4 am. And 5 am. Then 5:45 am, and finally 7:30 am. I've never puked that many times in one day! You could hardly call it puking though, because it was still dry heaving and stomach acid. It was awful. So I stayed home from school yesterday and watched TV and drank lots of grape Kool Aid, and slowly started getting my appetite back. Whenever I come out of a sickness, I am ravenous. I had Spaghettio's for lunch, Ramen noodles for snack, more pasta for dinner, then Jake and I shared McNuggets (what a smart thing to eat after being sick....sarcasm) and before going to bed I had two orange dreamsicles. I am surprised I didn't get sick again after all that. Now I am inhaling a large sandwich wrap.
Thank you for reading this and letting me ruin your appetite for five days. Really I don't know where all this anti-wellness came from, but as of now I'm back to normal. Yahoo!
The point of this story is that I'm glad my appetite is back up. Let me enlighten you...(Disclaimer: may ruin your appetite, read with caution. Not for those with weak stomachs)
Sunday I started getting a migraine around 11 am, so I laid down in a dark room for four hours, which sucked because I missed my grandma's birthday party. Then Jake and I left for Cruces later than we wanted to because I wouldn't have been able to bear being in a car with my condition. I got a little better, but then we had to stop in Santa Fe and I threw up at a gas station there, which was for the best because my migraines usually subside after I barf, isn't that pleasant? Then I ate a small ham and cheese and cracker lunchable (it took me like an hour to finish because I thought I'd get sick again if I ate it all right away). So I got home and was feeling pretty much better and went to sleep about 10:30. Then at 2 am I woke up feeling nauseous, and went and puked in the bathroom, but because I had barely eaten anything on Sunday because of said migraine and the lunchable was already digested and in my system, I had nothing to throw up, so it was pretty much dry heaving followed by stomach acid....lovely. I felt better after that, but the same thing happened at 3 am. And 4 am. And 5 am. Then 5:45 am, and finally 7:30 am. I've never puked that many times in one day! You could hardly call it puking though, because it was still dry heaving and stomach acid. It was awful. So I stayed home from school yesterday and watched TV and drank lots of grape Kool Aid, and slowly started getting my appetite back. Whenever I come out of a sickness, I am ravenous. I had Spaghettio's for lunch, Ramen noodles for snack, more pasta for dinner, then Jake and I shared McNuggets (what a smart thing to eat after being sick....sarcasm) and before going to bed I had two orange dreamsicles. I am surprised I didn't get sick again after all that. Now I am inhaling a large sandwich wrap.
Thank you for reading this and letting me ruin your appetite for five days. Really I don't know where all this anti-wellness came from, but as of now I'm back to normal. Yahoo!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Lilies and crab legs
Jake must have had an extra dose of romantic yesterday because he called me and said, "Don't go anywhere tonight, or eat anything!" Geez, are you calling me fat? Haha just joking. So around 6 he came to my apartment with a lovely arrangement of lilies and then gave me the choice of eating at Red Lobster or Texas Roadhouse. It took me like half an hour to decide because I love those both soooooo much (two of my top 5 favorite restaurants!) and both sounded equally scrumptious. I finally picked Red Lobster and had their famous cheddar biscuits, fried catfish and way too many crab legs dunked in melted butter. Oh and a Mango Mai Tai, my first alcoholic drink that I've bought (well Jake bought it) since I turned 21 (which isn't really an accomplishment, just thought I'd share), which was actually pretty tasty. And she didn't even card me! I thought she would. My dad swears I'm going to be carded until I'm 35.
Today it was rather gloomy outside, sprinkling rain here and there, but I always appreciate that.
Now this roommate situation... I think I'd prefer to live alone than with any of my friends at this point, for various reasons. My mom told me recently that she thinks people should live on their own for a while. The past year or so I thought I wouldn't be able to live alone because I get lonely easily, and that leads to short bouts of depression. However, my roommates are gone a lot, one is rarely ever here, so it feels like I'm living alone anyway. And I'm surviving it, aren't I? But still, I get lonely. Anyway living alone for my last year might be good for me.
Either that, or...there's the slightest chance that my brother will come live with me for a year. He's having a hard time deciding what to do after high school, and I told him he could come here for a year, take some classes, get a job, and maybe figure out what he wants to do... he is thinking about it but I don't know if it'll actually happen. Plus I'm not sure how it will work out. At home we get along pretty dandy, but if it's just us I can kinda see myself taking over the mom role...I might become bossy toward him to clean up, expect phone calls to know where he is/what he's doing...who knows maybe it would work out just fine.
Today it was rather gloomy outside, sprinkling rain here and there, but I always appreciate that.
Now this roommate situation... I think I'd prefer to live alone than with any of my friends at this point, for various reasons. My mom told me recently that she thinks people should live on their own for a while. The past year or so I thought I wouldn't be able to live alone because I get lonely easily, and that leads to short bouts of depression. However, my roommates are gone a lot, one is rarely ever here, so it feels like I'm living alone anyway. And I'm surviving it, aren't I? But still, I get lonely. Anyway living alone for my last year might be good for me.
Either that, or...there's the slightest chance that my brother will come live with me for a year. He's having a hard time deciding what to do after high school, and I told him he could come here for a year, take some classes, get a job, and maybe figure out what he wants to do... he is thinking about it but I don't know if it'll actually happen. Plus I'm not sure how it will work out. At home we get along pretty dandy, but if it's just us I can kinda see myself taking over the mom role...I might become bossy toward him to clean up, expect phone calls to know where he is/what he's doing...who knows maybe it would work out just fine.
Monday, January 19, 2009
we shall feast
I am going to try this recipe sometime this week and make it for my friend Danielle, Jake and I. I got it from bon appetit magazine. I don't know what leeks taste like, so I'll have to decide whether to use them or not. Maybe substitute something else?
Orecchiette Carbonara with Leeks
4 applewood-smoked bacon slices, diced
2 medium leeks (white and pale green parts only), halved lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1/3 inch pieces
10 ounces orecchiette pasta or small shells
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese plus additional for serving
1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian parsley
Cook bacon in large skillet over medium heat until crisp, about 8 minutes.
Using slotted spoon, transfer bacon to power towel to drain. Pour off all but 2 tablespoons fat from skillet if necessary. Add leeks and saute over medium heat until tender, about 6 minutes. Set aside.
Meanwhile, cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking liquid.
Whisk eggs and 1/2 cup Parmesan in medium bowl to blend; gradually whisk in 1/4 cup pasta cooking liquid. Add pasta to leeks in skillet and stir to heat. Remove skillet from heat. Pour egg mixture over pasta and stir until sauce is just cream and eggs are no longer raw, about 2 minutes. Return skillet to very low heat if egg mixture is runny; do not overcook or eggs will curdle. Add some of remaining 1/4 cup pasta cooking liquid to pasta if needed to moisten. Stir in bacon and parsley. Serve pasta, passing additional cheese separately.
Yum, I'm excited.
Orecchiette Carbonara with Leeks
4 applewood-smoked bacon slices, diced
2 medium leeks (white and pale green parts only), halved lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1/3 inch pieces
10 ounces orecchiette pasta or small shells
2 large eggs, room temperature
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese plus additional for serving
1 tablespoon chopped fresh Italian parsley
Cook bacon in large skillet over medium heat until crisp, about 8 minutes.
Using slotted spoon, transfer bacon to power towel to drain. Pour off all but 2 tablespoons fat from skillet if necessary. Add leeks and saute over medium heat until tender, about 6 minutes. Set aside.
Meanwhile, cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup pasta cooking liquid.
Whisk eggs and 1/2 cup Parmesan in medium bowl to blend; gradually whisk in 1/4 cup pasta cooking liquid. Add pasta to leeks in skillet and stir to heat. Remove skillet from heat. Pour egg mixture over pasta and stir until sauce is just cream and eggs are no longer raw, about 2 minutes. Return skillet to very low heat if egg mixture is runny; do not overcook or eggs will curdle. Add some of remaining 1/4 cup pasta cooking liquid to pasta if needed to moisten. Stir in bacon and parsley. Serve pasta, passing additional cheese separately.
Yum, I'm excited.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Battle of the Sounds
In the past couple years, I've learned that I am a kind of person who comes very close to a nervous breakdown (literally) when there are any sporadic/obnoxious/loud noises that I can't control. Steady noises that I can control are fine. In fact, I sleep much better with a steady noise, such as a fan or distant traffic. Now, when I first moved to this terrible place last semester, I noticed that the girls living above me walk rather heavily. At first I thought they were guys, and initially blamed the thundering footsteps on the fact that these apartments' floors are paper thin. I have since figured out that these neighbors are girls, softball girls who are rather beefy and always, always have a really mean look on their faces.
Over the past two months, I have engaged in pounding on the ceiling to try to get them to be a little quieter, for they have resorted to stomping around the room at all hours of the night and day. I'm not sure what their problem is, specifically the girl whose bedroom is right above mine, but it really seems that she never sits down or sits still. Perhaps she is on speed, or likes to pace (obnoxiously), but if she is home, I can count on hearing her march for two hours and can point to exactly where she is at any given second. Also, the footsteps seem to be getting louder every day.
Last night was terrible. I got back from a fun day in El Paso, exhausted, around 9 pm, and at about 10 I was in bed ready to pass out. I fell asleep rather quickly, but about 11 o'clock I was awoken by the elephant. I tried to block it out, because usually she calms down eventually, or leaves. But not this time. Every time I began to drift off again, she would start stomping around like there's no tomorrow (which may have been just as well because the past hour and a half the same thing has been going on). The thing is, unlike most nights when it finally stops (usually takes a while), this went on for almost 4 hours. 4 HOURS!!!!!!!! I pounded on the ceiling with my handy dandy wooden plank (I call it my Shut-Up Stick) nestled by my bedside, and the last time I did so, she resorted to exaggerating her giants' walk. I promise she was doing it on purpose. I am not sure when I finally fell asleep, but throughout the four hours I was continuously getting woken up and being frustrated, because all I wanted to do was sleeeeeep and there was nothing I could do about it.
I don't talk to the management about it because I promise you that they wouldn't do a single thing. If you lived here, you would know what I mean (I won't get into every single reason why the management here does not know how to run a complex, but I can guarantee they won't help). Anyway, as said before, the past hour and a half I have been hearing them (or just her, who knows) running around the apartment, dropping heavy things, etc. And I am scared (yes I admit it) to go talk to the girls about it because they are bigger than me, genuinely mean looking, and they could probably break me if they wanted to.
I hope I can keep my nerves for one more semester. I can't wait to move out.
Other noises that have been pushing me to the verge of a nervous breakdown:
My bird when he won't shut up even when I cover his cage.
When people are outside playing basketball.
The strange creaking/dripping noise that is in the wall between my bathroom and bedroom.
Over the past two months, I have engaged in pounding on the ceiling to try to get them to be a little quieter, for they have resorted to stomping around the room at all hours of the night and day. I'm not sure what their problem is, specifically the girl whose bedroom is right above mine, but it really seems that she never sits down or sits still. Perhaps she is on speed, or likes to pace (obnoxiously), but if she is home, I can count on hearing her march for two hours and can point to exactly where she is at any given second. Also, the footsteps seem to be getting louder every day.
Last night was terrible. I got back from a fun day in El Paso, exhausted, around 9 pm, and at about 10 I was in bed ready to pass out. I fell asleep rather quickly, but about 11 o'clock I was awoken by the elephant. I tried to block it out, because usually she calms down eventually, or leaves. But not this time. Every time I began to drift off again, she would start stomping around like there's no tomorrow (which may have been just as well because the past hour and a half the same thing has been going on). The thing is, unlike most nights when it finally stops (usually takes a while), this went on for almost 4 hours. 4 HOURS!!!!!!!! I pounded on the ceiling with my handy dandy wooden plank (I call it my Shut-Up Stick) nestled by my bedside, and the last time I did so, she resorted to exaggerating her giants' walk. I promise she was doing it on purpose. I am not sure when I finally fell asleep, but throughout the four hours I was continuously getting woken up and being frustrated, because all I wanted to do was sleeeeeep and there was nothing I could do about it.
I don't talk to the management about it because I promise you that they wouldn't do a single thing. If you lived here, you would know what I mean (I won't get into every single reason why the management here does not know how to run a complex, but I can guarantee they won't help). Anyway, as said before, the past hour and a half I have been hearing them (or just her, who knows) running around the apartment, dropping heavy things, etc. And I am scared (yes I admit it) to go talk to the girls about it because they are bigger than me, genuinely mean looking, and they could probably break me if they wanted to.
I hope I can keep my nerves for one more semester. I can't wait to move out.
Other noises that have been pushing me to the verge of a nervous breakdown:
My bird when he won't shut up even when I cover his cage.
When people are outside playing basketball.
The strange creaking/dripping noise that is in the wall between my bathroom and bedroom.
Friday, January 16, 2009
goodbye LJ
There. I did it. I resurrected some of my old posts from livejournal and now I can delete that account. Go me. So enjoy the many posts I just put up tonight. :-)
Erika is emo??
Again, written a couple years ago, confused about a certain situation. I know, it sounds a little emo, but I think it's good.
Jan. 29, 2007
It's just one of those things you can't help, wanting so badly to get rid of the thing you want the most
Wanting to move on, yet wanting to go back
Wishing I could find a new way to live, but yearning for a familiar life
Wanting to put out the fire, but wanting to make the flame bigger
Trying to pull myself out of the water, at the same time, wanting to drown in it
Pushing with one hand, pulling with the other
Letting it go, clinging to it with all my strength
Skip to the next track, replay one song over and over
Close the curtains, tear them down
Throw it all up, take another bite
Cover the wound, make it bleed again
Go away, come back. Leave me alone, don't ever let me go again
Jan. 29, 2007
It's just one of those things you can't help, wanting so badly to get rid of the thing you want the most
Wanting to move on, yet wanting to go back
Wishing I could find a new way to live, but yearning for a familiar life
Wanting to put out the fire, but wanting to make the flame bigger
Trying to pull myself out of the water, at the same time, wanting to drown in it
Pushing with one hand, pulling with the other
Letting it go, clinging to it with all my strength
Skip to the next track, replay one song over and over
Close the curtains, tear them down
Throw it all up, take another bite
Cover the wound, make it bleed again
Go away, come back. Leave me alone, don't ever let me go again
Oh, Benadryl!
Sniff, wheeze, cough and sneeze
Only gets worse with the cold, dreary breeze
The seasonal change brings many new sorrows
While the frantic search for meds quickly follows.
I hurriedly grab the first one that I see
A bright pink pill that'll go down easily
So hurried, in fact, that I failed to read
That drowsiness will occur, in no time, indeed.
I drive to my class and put my dance shoes on
Unknowing that my consciousness is already half-gone
Then I open my mouth to speak my thoughts
They come out slurred and jumbled, not one word is caught.
I suddenly feel how my eyes start to droop
And how my muscles have seemingly turned into goop
They refuse to cooperate or move on time
Definitely not feeling up to my prime
We start the number, "Quinto bajo" he yells
I raise up my arms, as heavy as dumbells
My mind is non-existent as I move through each pose
No longer comprehending "farruca" or "tientos"
The class is a blur, I think half-conscious thoughts
Not even realizing how I am so very lost
They tap their toe left, I jab my heel right
Just want to lie down and say goodnight.
Finally, it's over, I drag my feet out
Trying to figure how my fatigue came about
It's then that I notice how my nose has stopped itching
But in exchange my tiredness has my body twitching.
Of course! I remark, not feeling so bold
Antihistimine is something that will knock you out cold
So against the box's warnings, I drive myself home
And pass out on my bed to sleep off these symptoms.
Still groggy, med's not quite worn off yet
So this poem is made up of forced duets
I guess it's unsmart for me to try to rhyme
For next time, Benadryl is just for bedtime.
Only gets worse with the cold, dreary breeze
The seasonal change brings many new sorrows
While the frantic search for meds quickly follows.
I hurriedly grab the first one that I see
A bright pink pill that'll go down easily
So hurried, in fact, that I failed to read
That drowsiness will occur, in no time, indeed.
I drive to my class and put my dance shoes on
Unknowing that my consciousness is already half-gone
Then I open my mouth to speak my thoughts
They come out slurred and jumbled, not one word is caught.
I suddenly feel how my eyes start to droop
And how my muscles have seemingly turned into goop
They refuse to cooperate or move on time
Definitely not feeling up to my prime
We start the number, "Quinto bajo" he yells
I raise up my arms, as heavy as dumbells
My mind is non-existent as I move through each pose
No longer comprehending "farruca" or "tientos"
The class is a blur, I think half-conscious thoughts
Not even realizing how I am so very lost
They tap their toe left, I jab my heel right
Just want to lie down and say goodnight.
Finally, it's over, I drag my feet out
Trying to figure how my fatigue came about
It's then that I notice how my nose has stopped itching
But in exchange my tiredness has my body twitching.
Of course! I remark, not feeling so bold
Antihistimine is something that will knock you out cold
So against the box's warnings, I drive myself home
And pass out on my bed to sleep off these symptoms.
Still groggy, med's not quite worn off yet
So this poem is made up of forced duets
I guess it's unsmart for me to try to rhyme
For next time, Benadryl is just for bedtime.
true story
happened a couple years ago at my first apartment...
Feb. 23, 2007
So I freaked myself out majorly tonight. This is going to be a long story.
At our apartment complex, the clubhouse is supposed to be closed and locked when they close the offices as well, which was many hours ago. Tonight at like 10:30 I was walking back from sending mail and I have no idea but something made me go over and try the door to the clubhouse. I knew it's locked at this time, so I don't know why I felt the urge (it wasn't curiosity Ryan! haha). But yeah, I for some reason tried the doorknob, and it was open! I thought, that's strange, and stepped in. It was all dark and creepy with the pool table and couches and stuff making shadows. So I found the lights and sat down on a couch to read one of the magazines.
There is this door that leads to the hallway with the bathrooms, and there was light coming from under the door. So I figured that's why the door was unlocked, maintenance or the security guard or something. I decided to leave, but turned back around before I made it very far because I wanted to sit in there and read more (it was really cozy :]). I went back in, and the light coming from under the hall door was no longer there! I thought it was a little creepy, but still stayed in and read more. Then creepy noises started coming from the hallway! And I thought it was just the wind making it, but every few minutes it sounded like someone dropped something or hit the wall...and so by this time I was a little more worried yet I still stayed curled up on the couch. THEN, after some quiet, there was this huge bang from the hall! I jumped up off the couch and had a heart attack, turned off the lights and bolted out of there, praying the whole time that some crazed slayer didn't jump out! Aaaah!!!! I got back to my apartment and started laughing hysterically from nerves.
And I still think it might have been the crazy wind here, but what's up with the hall light? And why did I try the door in the first place?
Who knows.
Feb. 23, 2007
So I freaked myself out majorly tonight. This is going to be a long story.
At our apartment complex, the clubhouse is supposed to be closed and locked when they close the offices as well, which was many hours ago. Tonight at like 10:30 I was walking back from sending mail and I have no idea but something made me go over and try the door to the clubhouse. I knew it's locked at this time, so I don't know why I felt the urge (it wasn't curiosity Ryan! haha). But yeah, I for some reason tried the doorknob, and it was open! I thought, that's strange, and stepped in. It was all dark and creepy with the pool table and couches and stuff making shadows. So I found the lights and sat down on a couch to read one of the magazines.
There is this door that leads to the hallway with the bathrooms, and there was light coming from under the door. So I figured that's why the door was unlocked, maintenance or the security guard or something. I decided to leave, but turned back around before I made it very far because I wanted to sit in there and read more (it was really cozy :]). I went back in, and the light coming from under the hall door was no longer there! I thought it was a little creepy, but still stayed in and read more. Then creepy noises started coming from the hallway! And I thought it was just the wind making it, but every few minutes it sounded like someone dropped something or hit the wall...and so by this time I was a little more worried yet I still stayed curled up on the couch. THEN, after some quiet, there was this huge bang from the hall! I jumped up off the couch and had a heart attack, turned off the lights and bolted out of there, praying the whole time that some crazed slayer didn't jump out! Aaaah!!!! I got back to my apartment and started laughing hysterically from nerves.
And I still think it might have been the crazy wind here, but what's up with the hall light? And why did I try the door in the first place?
Who knows.
always
When I wake as daylight peeks through the shades, it comes to me
When I head out the door for another long day, it comes to me
When I drive too fast trying to beat the time, it comes to me
When I answer with yet another "I'm fine" it comes to me
As I sit and I keep and I dress and I sleep, it still finds me
As I stumble and fall and kneel down and crawl, it still finds me
As I hurry and wait and beg for a clean slate, it still finds me
As I wander around blind and never look behind, it still finds me
It's there when I'm searching, it's there when I'm lost
It's there when I'm lonely and my soul has been tossed
It's there when I scream and shudder and fight
It's there when my anger has reached its height
It won't let me go if I yell in its face
It won't let me go if it sees my disgrace
It won't let me go when I throw myself away
It won't let me go, never, it's here to sta
When I head out the door for another long day, it comes to me
When I drive too fast trying to beat the time, it comes to me
When I answer with yet another "I'm fine" it comes to me
As I sit and I keep and I dress and I sleep, it still finds me
As I stumble and fall and kneel down and crawl, it still finds me
As I hurry and wait and beg for a clean slate, it still finds me
As I wander around blind and never look behind, it still finds me
It's there when I'm searching, it's there when I'm lost
It's there when I'm lonely and my soul has been tossed
It's there when I scream and shudder and fight
It's there when my anger has reached its height
It won't let me go if I yell in its face
It won't let me go if it sees my disgrace
It won't let me go when I throw myself away
It won't let me go, never, it's here to sta
post from almost two years ago
I frequently find myself dwelling on things that could have been.
I think we all tend to do that every so often. I believe that when something becomes part of our everyday lives, and we somehow depend on it after a while and just assume that once we need it we can just turn around and it will be there to encourage us and give us just a little faith to keep going, and then suddenly it's not there. We turn around and wonder, Uh, where did it go? How can I go on now? And then this change, even if it is so slight, causes us to worry and makes us afraid, afraid of what is going to happen or what did happen to make it disappear. Sometimes it's only gone for a while, in which case the worry turns to relief when you hear its voice again, and think, Oh good, back to normal. Please don't ever do that to me again. But I often wonder how much of this anxiety is false, and how much is actually intuitive and may prove true later on, then the questioning of moving on begin to flow.
I think we all tend to do that every so often. I believe that when something becomes part of our everyday lives, and we somehow depend on it after a while and just assume that once we need it we can just turn around and it will be there to encourage us and give us just a little faith to keep going, and then suddenly it's not there. We turn around and wonder, Uh, where did it go? How can I go on now? And then this change, even if it is so slight, causes us to worry and makes us afraid, afraid of what is going to happen or what did happen to make it disappear. Sometimes it's only gone for a while, in which case the worry turns to relief when you hear its voice again, and think, Oh good, back to normal. Please don't ever do that to me again. But I often wonder how much of this anxiety is false, and how much is actually intuitive and may prove true later on, then the questioning of moving on begin to flow.
breath of life
April 14, 2007
I often wonder what it feels like to be a fetus. I mean, we all used to be one, all snuggled up to ourselves inside our mother. Not knowing the meaning of love and loss, what it feels like to be lost, hopeless, unwanted, overwhelmed...
We wouldn't know how much it hurts when all hope is lost, nor the pain of struggle and worry. We would just sit there, no responsibility except to give hope and happiness to those awaiting our entrance into an existence that we never existed in before. Oh, we existed, but in a different way.
Something about that first breath of life, taking in the air, our first cry, first scream, the first time we were held in the arms of those who would provide unconditional love for the rest of our lives, is just so...real.
But then I wonder, maybe we all are still unborn babies. Are we all just waiting, floating in our invisible (to ourselves) existence, in which we don't think about anything? We rely on anyone but ourselves to help us grow, what to nourish us with, when to be active and when to rest, impatiently awaiting our arrival.
The only decision we make is when to make the grand entrance into the life that we all have yet to experience. We decide when we've had enough of simply being, and are ready to really become alive!
When we will leave our subconscious existence and find what it really means to be alive, when we will really cry for the first time, scream out loud for the first time, to be really held for the first time in the Arms of unconditional love.
To really, truly, take the first breath of life.
I often wonder what it feels like to be a fetus. I mean, we all used to be one, all snuggled up to ourselves inside our mother. Not knowing the meaning of love and loss, what it feels like to be lost, hopeless, unwanted, overwhelmed...
We wouldn't know how much it hurts when all hope is lost, nor the pain of struggle and worry. We would just sit there, no responsibility except to give hope and happiness to those awaiting our entrance into an existence that we never existed in before. Oh, we existed, but in a different way.
Something about that first breath of life, taking in the air, our first cry, first scream, the first time we were held in the arms of those who would provide unconditional love for the rest of our lives, is just so...real.
But then I wonder, maybe we all are still unborn babies. Are we all just waiting, floating in our invisible (to ourselves) existence, in which we don't think about anything? We rely on anyone but ourselves to help us grow, what to nourish us with, when to be active and when to rest, impatiently awaiting our arrival.
The only decision we make is when to make the grand entrance into the life that we all have yet to experience. We decide when we've had enough of simply being, and are ready to really become alive!
When we will leave our subconscious existence and find what it really means to be alive, when we will really cry for the first time, scream out loud for the first time, to be really held for the first time in the Arms of unconditional love.
To really, truly, take the first breath of life.
Tangled Chains (another from the past)
May 16, 2007
Yesterday I spent an hour and a half untangling my necklaces from each other. They got like that over time, and the car ride home made it worse. It took that long, and there were not even that many necklaces. I even felt sick after a while because I was craning my neck looking down for so long. Anyway, that grueling, annoying hour and a half got me thinking a little metaphorically, all because some chains got tangled together from a drive home.
It made me realize how easily things can get tangled up. Each chain represents a problem, hardship, worry, grievance, which you refuse to let out and instead, bottle it up inside. Each problem is only one small hassle, but over time, if you don't separate them and sort them out regularly, they tend to twist into one another. First creating small knots, but as more and more chains enter the mess, the knots grow and the chains become even more entangled in each other. Before you realize what's happening right before your eyes, you have yourself a giant knot of chains tangled and twisted and bunched up so that you can't even see which chain leads to what pendant or count how many there are. It's a disaster zone, really.
It definitely takes much more effort, time and patience to untangle the knot than it did to create it. You will likely struggle with the mess. Before all, you have to realize first off that you have a knot and somehow figure out where to start to fix it, or you can never again wear the necklaces they once were.
Sometimes one chains is so difficult to work with that you need to leave it alone for a while and move on to another. It's even harder when some chains look alike and you can't seem to distinguish between the two.
But with will and perseverance, you eventually find the ends of each chain and work each one through the loops and tangles, until the knot grows smaller, and one by one, the chains separate and show that they each hold a pendant, a purpose, a lesson learned in themselves and the knot as a whole.
Yesterday I spent an hour and a half untangling my necklaces from each other. They got like that over time, and the car ride home made it worse. It took that long, and there were not even that many necklaces. I even felt sick after a while because I was craning my neck looking down for so long. Anyway, that grueling, annoying hour and a half got me thinking a little metaphorically, all because some chains got tangled together from a drive home.
It made me realize how easily things can get tangled up. Each chain represents a problem, hardship, worry, grievance, which you refuse to let out and instead, bottle it up inside. Each problem is only one small hassle, but over time, if you don't separate them and sort them out regularly, they tend to twist into one another. First creating small knots, but as more and more chains enter the mess, the knots grow and the chains become even more entangled in each other. Before you realize what's happening right before your eyes, you have yourself a giant knot of chains tangled and twisted and bunched up so that you can't even see which chain leads to what pendant or count how many there are. It's a disaster zone, really.
It definitely takes much more effort, time and patience to untangle the knot than it did to create it. You will likely struggle with the mess. Before all, you have to realize first off that you have a knot and somehow figure out where to start to fix it, or you can never again wear the necklaces they once were.
Sometimes one chains is so difficult to work with that you need to leave it alone for a while and move on to another. It's even harder when some chains look alike and you can't seem to distinguish between the two.
But with will and perseverance, you eventually find the ends of each chain and work each one through the loops and tangles, until the knot grows smaller, and one by one, the chains separate and show that they each hold a pendant, a purpose, a lesson learned in themselves and the knot as a whole.
The Flower Pot
I wrote this about a year and a half ago, beginning to come out of a difficult time in my life.
July 27, 2007.
The flowers in the pot on my windowsill were dead. Wilted, drooping, colorless. When I was first given these cyclamens as a welcome home gift, the blossoms looked brilliant by the window in my room. Admiring their unique way of growing, I told myself I wouldn't let this plant die. Determination gripped me, telling me I couldn't be less than nurturing. More of them rose from the soil over the next couple weeks.
"I won't let you die on me. I'll keep you alive."
Then change happened. They began to droop, wilt. New flowers stopped growing. The water didn't save them. Nothing would. Where did I go wrong? How cold I let them die when I have done everything I could to keep it alive, blossoming...so desperately?
This, I felt, was my life. That plant, the one that seemed so alive and colorful, was now dead. The many flowers that grew from the roots in the soil lay pitifully flat on the surface. That's what I desperately wanted not to happen. The water, my determination, did not bring it back to life. It was useless...I have failed...
I was soon told it just needed a bigger pot. These spoken words slowly became clear to me. I could not force the plant to stay alive, not in an undersized flower pot. I couldn't keep something, not even a part of the past, alive when it has outgrown what it lives and thrives in and needs change, even if it is unknown. It needs something new, something different, something that it can spread its roots out farther in and grow to be an even bigger reflection of beauty.
It had to die. It wasn't meant to survive and thrive in something that restrains it from its full potential. Slowly it withers away, the memories may go with it or linger around. But it's okay to let something die, fade, wither away if it is unable to stretch further. Just move the roots and what stems and leaves are left to another flower pot, give it new soil, and let it reach farther than it was able to before.
Soon it might need a change again, if it keeps growing. Let it grow, allow yourself to let it die, and replant it once again, until the blossoms can't become any more magnificent.
July 27, 2007.
The flowers in the pot on my windowsill were dead. Wilted, drooping, colorless. When I was first given these cyclamens as a welcome home gift, the blossoms looked brilliant by the window in my room. Admiring their unique way of growing, I told myself I wouldn't let this plant die. Determination gripped me, telling me I couldn't be less than nurturing. More of them rose from the soil over the next couple weeks.
"I won't let you die on me. I'll keep you alive."
Then change happened. They began to droop, wilt. New flowers stopped growing. The water didn't save them. Nothing would. Where did I go wrong? How cold I let them die when I have done everything I could to keep it alive, blossoming...so desperately?
This, I felt, was my life. That plant, the one that seemed so alive and colorful, was now dead. The many flowers that grew from the roots in the soil lay pitifully flat on the surface. That's what I desperately wanted not to happen. The water, my determination, did not bring it back to life. It was useless...I have failed...
I was soon told it just needed a bigger pot. These spoken words slowly became clear to me. I could not force the plant to stay alive, not in an undersized flower pot. I couldn't keep something, not even a part of the past, alive when it has outgrown what it lives and thrives in and needs change, even if it is unknown. It needs something new, something different, something that it can spread its roots out farther in and grow to be an even bigger reflection of beauty.
It had to die. It wasn't meant to survive and thrive in something that restrains it from its full potential. Slowly it withers away, the memories may go with it or linger around. But it's okay to let something die, fade, wither away if it is unable to stretch further. Just move the roots and what stems and leaves are left to another flower pot, give it new soil, and let it reach farther than it was able to before.
Soon it might need a change again, if it keeps growing. Let it grow, allow yourself to let it die, and replant it once again, until the blossoms can't become any more magnificent.
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