Because I know...
(and knowing is half the battle)

Oh come on, you can't say one without the other. It's just not right man. So even though I was trying to be serious, humor snuck in and stuck its tongue out at me again. I guess there are far worse ways to deal with major topics that make me squirm, ways such as:
drinking, eating, staying up too late, sleeping to long, procrastinating, drugs...
well, at least I don't do the drugs.

Here's the thing. I was starting to go on a flourishing diatribe depicting the paths that I am wandering around as we speak. The outline I had in my head was to lament my current career standing (or the fact that I don't have one and almost two months into being 25 am no where nearer to stumbling across one) and chide myself over the inaction. Then I was going to throw in something empowering yet witty to boost my failing temperament through another day of smiling at people that I don't like. Add a dash of "stop berating yourself for trying to make the right decisions and taking the time to do it" and I would have been mentally satiated knowing that the whole world understands that I don't want to remain a waitress in St. Augustine forever and I am perfectly willing to shout it from the rooftops, if I felt confident that I could do so without falling off a one story house and killing myself.
I started to, but I was contradicted. By me. A-GAIN. So I stopped. It seems that I have either killed off the brain cells that were making me over-analyze these things, or I really have just stopped caring. Or maybe I really do understand that my time will come. When I ponder being a go-getter, I take another sip of my vodka tonic and push through the crowd to stare at the beach and think "nah, the real world can wait." While I fail to believe I should just sit idly by on my ass doing nothing, I am renewing my thinking with the fact that I will be a grown up for the rest of my life and this world is too hard to live in without enjoying the major things that I know will sustain me:
Love, family, career, surroundings...
and I refuse to push myself to do anything but enjoy these things.

If you're worried, don't be.

I'm not. Just trust in me. I am learning to, and it's a fabulous thing.

HEY DUCKS!!
New mantra "be sweet, be kind, be patient, be strong. Again...be sweet, be kind..." God knows, I'm trying.
"What have people got against a chick being by herself?"

There would be no rainbows from the soul if there were no tears in the eyes...

This is the gist of a quote I saw on a wall in Savannah today. It sums up my short trip nicely, I think. Driving up, the passanger seat of the Camry was inhabited by one big, tense mass of contradictory thoughts and emotions. Talked myself out of most of that nicely. Had I stayed here I would have created a melodrama the likes of which would rival the best soap opera, and then some. Weird how stepping away from something allows for some eery clarity and eventually restores peace. Let's see if I can remember this lesson.

Well, I am just really happy.

But before I say anything...my heart goes out to the victims and families who are suffering in Haiti right now. I can't even begin to fathom the things that these people are going through now. I am so sorry but so very thankful.

Now back to happy. Since I have written last, I celebrated my birthday in Miami, where I got to hang out in the Dj booth with John Digweed and watch the sun rise on my 25th, not to mention spend time with one of my favorites. I have trips planned to Costa Rica with the other favorites (AKA monkeys) and Australia if I can swing it, and I am finally getting to go to New York. Fabulous. Shortly I will start studying to take the GRE so I can start on the good ole career track. We made it through the first batch of hurricanes, thanks be, and hopefully we will make it through Jeanne (which by the way is named after my sassy Grandmother, go freakin' figure. And, drumroll, please. I have a boyfriend. Hope you didn't hurt yourself falling out of your chair in shock. Lord knows I'm still reeling from the surprise. I am very gun-shy right now, but I hope I can pull this off without totally freaking out. We'll see.

So my attetion is waning for the moment, hope to write less superficial stuff soon.

WELL, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, WAS I THAT BIG BEFORE?

Hey! Now you can post comments! So do it! Uh, I mean, em, please enlighten me with your most valued opinion. Ah-thank you.

Well, through all of the love-life blundering that typically happens on any given day, at least I can say I am starting to get more intuitive about the shenanigans. Probably I'm just learning to pay better attention to all of the BLARINGLY OBVIOUS signals. That might be it.

WARNING. Political discussion to follow.

So I have this to say about politics. Figure that mess out for yourself. (That was the essence of what I had to say. Figured I'd plant the seed before I tried to be eloquent.) But please, please, por favor, don't decide the future of our country by selecting the candidate's name that you see the most on the side of the road. In any election, from school board member to Commander in Chief. "Whichever devil you choose, you will look him in the face first." This quote from Dangerous Beauty may not be referring to the same situation, but I think it is a stance that we as a society should take, even though we often fail to. In this time when it can truly be the lesser of two evils, be aware of what you are signing your soul away to achieve. Take a look at the issues and the facts, and seal your heart from being affected by emotionally charged (if not factually based) speeches and campaign press releases. And if you are an undeniable moron, ask someone whom you respect to tell you who to vote for, 'cause even you need to try and make a difference.

Really, it's the way that you approach things.

For all of the times that I wanted to scream when I heard "it's not WHAT you say, Kelly, it's HOW you say it" I realize more and more everyday, it's damn true.

Learn about tact, and then learn how to use it.  I have no filter, so I empathize.  I talk to much, about too much, so I understand it's hard to hold back sometimes.  Especially when I think that I am always right.  Indignant is the term that comes to mind as of late, and I can't quite figure out what there is to be indignant about.  I'll be stepping off of my soap box now.  Thanks for reading.

PLAN:

1.  GRE (shudder)
2.  Resume (blech)
3.  Fancy suit as a reward for the above, b/c isn't it obvious by now that I operate on a reward system?
4.  Networking (did my anti-corperate, no-no-yuppy rear-end just say that?)
5.  Volunteering

AAAANNNDDDD....go!

Oh, and, uh, just found out that Digweed is going to be in Miami at Crobar the day before my birthday (which would be a monday night).  I think that it would be quite awesome to:

a. see Digweed!
b. Go to Miami
3. Dance my butt off at Crobar and watch the sun come up on my Birthday...yeah baby.

Uh-oh.  The wheels are definitely turning!

      

I think I am going to tattoo "mistaken intention" on my forehead..."What?  Why are you looking at me like...wait, no!  That's not what I meant, that's not what I was going to do... dammit, why...oh, for cripes sake, I give up!"
 
Why can't I just BE, and you GET IT?
 
For those of you that miss the Monkeys, the recent quotes on the board include:
 
Kelly: Can't you feel your heart beating?
Alicia: No, not under this padded bra.
 
Alicia:  Who are those guys hanging out on the stage behind them?
Kelly:  It's their posse.
Alicia:  Oohhhh!
  

 

Pursue Happiness inscribed over my battered knuckles.
Poor car.
 
Even if it is silent, my prayer is always the same.
 
Be safe.  Be strong.  Know that even with all of the disaster around you, the confusion and the opposite ends of honor, no matter the politics or varied opinions, there is always a heart open to you.  I love you for everything that you do for us.  Thank you for your life and your courage.  For the past, the present and the future, you are all my heroes.

Funny.  The other day, I called a good friend of mine a boy, and he got offended.  "Don't call me that.  I know that's an insult coming from you."  Apparently I have been very vocal about my views of the difference between men and boy.  Guess I'd better follow up the opinion with the behavior now, huh?

Ok, so here's the thing. My computer has some mysterious virus thingy going on. I can't even turn the abominable thing on now. So I am quite near twitching from not posting - still writing, but this whole online thing is strangely addicting. Nothing much eventful to lament about, really. Hopefully the bane of my existence will be working by the time something interesting happens.

NO REALLY.

IS THIS THING ON!?!?!

The moon is calling me...It's making me lose my concept of time, it's altering my perception of reality, it's drawing the drama to care from this body as its last breath. No worries. This is just the cocoon. The vibrant, strong creature my soul will become is still being nurtured inside. The pulse of the moon may just breath life yet. I am desperately fighting the urge to ignore it. The music and the words are holding me to it. One day. One day there will be so much more. It'll hurt, there will be pain and rage and distrust and failure and all of those other nasty words and thoughts and sentiments. But there will always be love. And I will pick up new words along the way to induct into my vocabulary - trust, support, commitment, honor, sucess, fufillment. Even to try will be enough.

Sober for 17 days, here's where I am on THAT totem pole:

* People in bars are ten TIMES more annoying when you are the ONLY one not drinking. Being intoxicated makes that a whole hell of a lot easier to deal with.
* I'm grouchier than I've ever been before.
* I've noticed when the urge strikes me the hardest, and this awareness reminds me of why I quit to begin with: When I am angry, threatened, or stressed, I crave alcohol.
* It IS hard to not drink when you work at a restaurant and go to bars, but not impossible. The major thing that strikes me when I'm out is, "God, why am I here again? To be social? With WHAT?"

Is it because you know that I want to grab you up and shake the teeth out of your head? Is this what causes you to think the way that you do? Or are you just so encapsulated in your own mind space that you don't realize what you passed up years ago?

JUST ONE DAY IN ALL OF THEIR HEADS, THAT WOULD PUT MY MIND AT EASE. GUESS I'M JUST GONNA HAVE TO RELY ON SWEET, SLOW TIME, EH?

"I know, I know. Action. Not words."

I feel like the worst comedian in the world, playing to a non-existent audience, tapping the mike, screaming "IS THIS THING ON?!?!?!"

There must be something that allows for a mess up. A do-over. Stepping stone. I don't know, a freaking experiment that's not too caustic or hurtful. Can't I have a get out of jail free card? As much as I scribble, as much as the steam escapes through my ears...all that thinking just leads to so many concentric circles. Good, back to chasing my tail again. Glad for that!

Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.
-Margret Atwood

No, the tears are not rife
with any particular emotion.
Slow and circumspect,
hating disappointment
as the only measure
that still trickles pain,
the only one
that finely drips through
the mesh of control
to mingle with my blood.

This fabulous inertia
that strikes my limbs
but won't even put pause on my brain
makes my eyes vibrant
but my actions dim.
Being this body
is hurting my soul
and floating
is causing more scrapes and bruises
than the Path ever would.

Musically, poetically I'll watch you
as I cling to the notes
and words
to save me from drawing you near.
The sting from my palm
still open on your face,
you will walk away.
I will be watching patiently
for the sight of your back -
breathing easily because I won, again.


Can you hear me clamoring, finally?

BUY!! SELL!! TRADE!!

No, this is not a used car dealership ad, this is how I feel about my life right now:

"Stuck in a rut with nothing to entertain you? Go buy something you don't need for that five minute of translucent joy!"
Passe, at best.

"Want to cleanse your spirit because you are brutally hard on yourself and feel that you tend towards no good? Go through the house like a tornado and bag up 2/3 of your stuff to give away - you're helping other people right?"
Trite. That about sums it up.

"Need some affection? Want to connect with someone? To be special? Of the many things in your head you have to barter, why not pick the one that you are the best with? 'Cause that makes sense."
Even when you know better, huh?

Clearly when I said that I am ridiculously inept at social multi-tasking, the powers that be took that to heart and decided to really try my malfunction. My inclination would be to bitch, 'cause well, that's what I do. But seeing as I am famously Happy, *uh, Content, or maybe...Satisfied, yeah that's it, Satisfied* with my "social calendar" as it is, I think I might try keeping my mouth shut. Now, to all of you Nay Sayers out there, every last one of you - to you I say "remember that I will ALWAYS surprise you." So there, and a nanny nanny boo boo, too, just for good measure. How's that for being a grown up?

Monkey, um, really, what is this? "Goddess of the Fabrics of Time."

Please to share, thanks.

ooooh...I want that! Why not me?

Ummmm...

Love...
and why stare?
Those next needs
Boil beneath a moon gown
Rusting
Aching
Blood
In a thousand languages.

Yeah.

I should be famous for the odd sunburns that I get...sheesh.
It doesn't matter how much they protest, kids will always like water in the end.
I am HORRIBLE with social multi-tasking.
How long before I run away in a fright, thinking, "whew, that was close!"

I wore my new shoes last night! (Robbie, if you are reading this, I didn't fall nor were they uncomfortable.) Apparently, this is all I've got right now, when really I am jam-packed with issues...maybe I'm scared to take a closer look.

MY TIES ARE GONE...

...and once again I wonder where that up-in-the-air feeling will get me.

Also, I was wrong, even when I knew that I was right.

Yeah, chew on that one for a minute. I sure have.

I am SOOO sorry for trying to take your hat...
Bet you can't wait to tell your buddy about that one, can ya?
I have an itch and am trying reeaaalll hard not to scratch it. Probably I'm gonna lose this battle. But not the war. Never the war.

I know why I feel this way, but even so...am I just supposed to ignore certain feelings and emotions, pretend that I am really not feeling anything for a week or so, and then it's all better, back to normal? No. It's like being in a second skin. Becoming another part of myself that has heighten senses, thoughts and emotions. And no, I am not talking back to the voices, yet. They are all still external and throwing mad bullshit my way, whether I ask for it or not, but I have yet to lash out with real fervor. Only a matter of time, really, but such is me, and how I deal with life.

My goal, for the day, at least:
Settle down enough to enjoy the rest of my time here, so that I can remember St. Augustine fondly, and maybe for once in my life, miss a place. (Don't worry, San Fran, I'm coming back for you). Right, we'll see how that goes.

Siggghhh...
THE UNREST OF THE MONKEYS

Do you know that I missed St. Augustine, and talked about it positively while I was gone? Do you know that I am fairly certain now that I have lost my mind? Dear God, don't tell anyone.

I came home today to a cat who climbed me like a tree, *awwww*, 'cause she missed me, so that was nice. I stood in the doorway, happy to be home, ready to find some trouble to get into, and I was sad. My monkey was not here to share with. Mia is not really into story time. No one to show my funky shoes, no one to tell that there were fifty thousand fine guys to look at in the City that has lost their r's, not to mention the disquiet I have now that I discovered Boston wasn't what I wanted it to be...Who really cares, besides the #1 monkey and my parents? In wallowing in my own self-pity, I got to thinking, "God, if it's this bad for us, how much does it SUCK for her?" Here I am with Ashley and Matt within reach, my friends, my job, my drama. There she is, surrounded by beauty but no doubt one sad little monkey, to be away from everything like she is. So Alicia, I hope that you are well. I know that your are lonely, but I hope that you can take everything that you can from this situation. Not just being immersed in Spanish, but also how your heart feels now. How to deal with that. How to make something better when you really see nothing good in it. I love you, and miss you.

Now for the other Monkey. I hope that you are doing better than that last post. If you are, *whew* that was a close one. If not, think to a place where you are always appreciated and loved. You know where. Now nod and smile as you are thinking "yeah freakin' great. My car's a mess and people at work are butts, and Kelly's waxing all poetic and sappy on me." So as not to create that illusion, I will say, I (and hopefully Ashley) will be down there on Fri., and there will be drinking and presents and drinking, none of which you will have to pay for. It is your Birthday so you are the Birthday...uh...King!...Man!...Monkey! So suck it up, soldier! (I've been in the car for the past three days, cut me a break).

Not a word was written on this trip. Trepidation to try plagues me, once again. Am I doing the right thing?

I want to write about my day in Boston yesterday, but I can't spell some of the things that I would write about, so it'll have to wait until later.

For now, the recent goings-on in my addled brain:

Can't you take I-95 all the way down?
Could I deal with the abruptness of this city?
I promised myself not to live in fear, and I want to call, I really do, but the phone repels me like so much venom...this might be a longer process than I thought.
We'll see if it can be handled accordingly...

I dunno,Kel. You might have to stop thinking and just BE...

This is now.

I can't even muster up the tears anymore, God dammit. It's so typical, so expected, that it just becomes like breathing...this accepting of the terms and conditions. I knew it was coming, I could feel it in my blood, I looked at you and understood what you were. It was so subconscious and base that I didn't realize the true nature of the beast, probably didn't care to, but none the less, it surfaced from inside to grab air and make itself known. It used to hurt so bad...making me lose the air in my body, flushing my face, metally staggering my abilities until I was giddy and unbalanced. Used to. Now I just blink, exhale, make another tick mark, and walk away.

Vanity won, and was wrong.

Again.

I wrote this when I was around 15 or 16...all I have to say is good luck to all of y'all.

Wishful Thinking

Your face,
an open book.
Your lines,
Like lookin' through
a window into your mind.
Your promise more fragile
than a young girl's heart.
Your lies,
as predictable as an over-watched movie.
Your mouth -
Fresh
yet surprisingly sweet...
when it suits you.
A disturbed purpose
and a perfectly
warped meaning,
but a completely
Empty
Intention.


That was then. I'll tell ya about now when I have a coupla hours under my sleep belt.

Giving up all expectations...

As soon as I start typing, she will come. Why wait?

As soon as I make myself unavailable, they will beg.

What's taking so long?

Will Vanity win?

Why can't I finish ANYTHING?
I'm working on going with the flow here, truly.

I look around, and think strong thoughts. I move throughout, and am always impressed with the strength of my body. I sit down and feel, and that is where I find the weakness.

Such complex creatures we all are, to have such base, primitive emotions and goals. As high as we build those castles in the sand, the basement of the fortress is where all things that drive us are housed.

I don't know what's different, but I like it. It may be difficult, but it's stimulating, which I don't mind. Yeah, it's wicked to be confused during a vast portion of my life. Even more insane to be looking at something that I want right now, and not have it. But the real kicker? Being alright with that. Not allowing such events to shade my every mood. Finally being able to say and mean"If it's meant to be it will be."

So, soon I'll move on to being not so egocentric, thanks, princess.

Really, could the roller coaster mood swing bit move on to somebody else now? I'm kinda over it.

"Umm, this is not Burger King, have it your way, mmmkay?"
"Hi, my name is Sam, and I'll be taking care of you tonight. This is my friend George, say hi George!"
"And the ants, are in my shoes, AND THEY ARE BITING ME!!"

It is almost comical...I said almost. To feel like the lowest form of crap (what would that be, exactly?) one minute, and the next laughing, 'cause the fit that ya just threw was rather funny, then bummed out, because those poor horses do nothing all day but clop around in circles on the burnt asphalt, then annoyed about the dink of a tourist who insists on getting in the way, not on purpose but just by being there, "don't these people pay attention to their freakin' surroundings?" Hormones be damned, this is kinda fun! Who needs drugs!

And by the way, I should have to hand over my phone after one drink. The drunk dialing is getting waaay outta hand. Do you see? Do you see why I want to stop, period?

"Kelly. Your hommus is gonna be a while...we, uh, we lost the veg. for that."
"You lost the...what, did they sprout legs and walk out?"

I'm too tired to pretend, even.

The difference should pull me out of this sleepy little fog. But the sleep is like a drug…canceling my thoughts, numbing the incumbent and impending feelings. It’s hard to be a Guest House, as much as I believe it should be so. It’s hard to welcome them all, because even happiness can make someone wary. Having said that, I am enjoying these visitors. They’re helping me clean house.

How about a sharpy, a rabies tag, and a flashlight to constitute the entertainment divine...

what?

Sorry just trying to get the rusty fingers moving. More? Sure.

The sign on my desk is of Happy Bunny saying, "whatever, you moron." This is the mantra that I repeat in my head at work. Customers, co-workers, whoever, it's "Whatever you moron" until I can breath a clean, non-alcohol induced sigh at the end of the day. Until I can say to myself, "You have money in your pocket, you didn't let loose of your mouth, and you managed to keep from flinging dinner plates at the expo's head...ya done good."

These are things that I don't want to be proud of myself for.

If I have to bite my tongue, I would rather it be b/c I don't want to be overly-excited over a kid who is making great progress. If I have to be frustrated, I want the frustration to be a used emotion, a means to an end, instead of some fury that I have to write away or run off so that I can start fresh the next day. I want to be proud of myself for doing something for myself and others, not for constantly trying to keep my attitude in check.

The weekly "2nd & 3rd Mama therapy sessions" have told me simultaneously to "figure out how to be your kid again" and "stop lurking and just GO." What's funny is, for once in my life, even through the puzzling haze of indecision, I understand what my little universe is up to. When all is right, I will know. It never pays for me to second guess. I am trying to make it so that I won't do that. At least not nearly as much as I have in the past.

I WARNED YOU

I have something to say about all of this plastic surgery/alter my looks b/c I don't fit into that tight little barbie doll mold/I wanna look like everybody else madness that has been spreading like wildfire for the past couple of years. Where are the mothers? The families? The freakin' big brothers of America? The preachers and the Rabbis and the shaman? "Hello, God? *tap, tap* is this thing on? The Peace Corps, for cripes sake. 'Cause it's gonna take a legion of Peace to tame this mangled beast. Where are these people who take the little girls to the side and say "Kiddo. Make your OWN mold. Be the best YOU can be, not the best Mr.-Plastic-Surgeon-paying-for-my-vacation-with-your-insecurities can make you." Don't get me wrong. I am not going all women's lib on you people. I have the push-up bras and the bikini waxes. I get the pedicures and own way to many girlie products (I have like four different kinds of shampoo, see?)

I DO want you.
Make you mine and be yours? No. Just in as much as I want to know you, hear you're thoughts, sift through you dreams.
I AM interested in the person you are...you appeal to me physically and mentally, which is no small feat.
I KNOW that I am a quality person and worthy of your attention.
I'm TIREDof using you as a convenience and being one in return.
I DO run away.
I DON'T know how to handle this.
I AM fighting serious emotions, making me scared, confused, unsure, and silent.
I DON'T want this to affect me anymore. I want it to go away, make me stop the occasional pondering and flashes of what - ifs. Normalcy for once, just once, please.
AND fuck you for not trying or getting it. Yes, an irrational "fuck you" for not putting yourself out there when I won't either, for not understanding that it's all a facade, and for not feeling my cry when I am right beside you. STOP. Dammit. Stop showing yourself to be someone that I find interesting. GO AWAY or recognize me for who I am.

Christ, this is why I wish I was a boy.

Laughing on the inside is just not enough anymore.

What's funny is, the self-righteous thing is fueled by not being able to go about things on your own. As long as you have some one to stand behind you and gossip to when you get all high and mighty, you're golden. If you don't then who is going to help you stand up for what they told you was right? I mean, if you think about it.

A thought that I have to remind myself of again...you get what you ask for. So stop being all surprised.

I thought I put this up here earlier, but I'm fairly certain I did not...

What dreams may come might also be brutally honest…and there’s the rub.

Maybe it’s that I’m an only child. Maybe it’s that I have this grand delusion of what certain things should be like. Quite possibly I overreact, which is why I often apply the glue of control liberally to my lips. Certainly I expect too much, think too much, operate singularly instead of in plurals…right? I mean, to be disappointed with certain aspects of friendship is irrational, isn’t it. To be loved…but to love is the thing, really. Do I cast myself as the outsider? Is it because I am just trying too damn hard? Does it seem like I don’t need you? Because I do.

Somebody, help me out here.

And thoughts to come on that show on MTV - I want a famous face...or whatever in the Hell it is...

Where was Mario?
Where were you?
You'll have to forgive him...he has no soul.
"Revolutions. Better living through chemistry. We must resolve to evolve. perception is your weapon."

If I turn away from you...stop trying to dance with me. I like to dance...you gyrating and sweating all over me is really not conducive to the environment I am creating in my mind. It's all good - don't try the offended thing. I'm just a girl, on the dance floor. You can come, but by invitation only.

Gold, vodka, beer, and turkeys...will there ever be a day when I know better?

AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

That's me shrieking, by the way.

Why, you ask?

Good question, and as soon as my self tells me, I'll let you know.

Left Without Preface

What do I say to you?
You bring me my self-tortured soul
Wrapped up in a Tiffany’s box
With a white satin sheet that
Covers your navy side.
But not mine.
Huh.

What can I be to you?
When you come twice
To such a coveted conclusion
And I don’t even come close…
Beginning to feel like
This is chasing pixies in the mist,
But what, for all we care, right?

Really, what more can I ask?
This is a Frankenstein
That I have created
And nurtured
To the point of marveling
With dismay
At the piteous monster that it is still becoming.

Hate you?
No.
Want you?
Not really.
Picturing those others
When you are believed to be in my head?
Undoubtedly.

Is there something off beam
With “you’ll do for now?”
Because the white horse has arrived sans rider
Only to tell me that the prince will be late…
Ultimately it will be him and not you,
But until then let’s say you
Get back on that sway-backed nag and take his place

Heartfelt letters screaming with confusion
Monkeys could run this place better
If there was a solitaire competition, I would so win it...that's going on the quote board, isn' it?

I got all jumpy today - might have been the three cups of coffee that I INHALED...but who knows? I had an extreme emotions day today too...Hyper, annoyed, manic, frustrated, goofy with a touch of delerious, indignant, purposeful - all wrapped up into six hours that earned me 20 bones. Gotta love the service industry. OR not. It was actually a fun day I spent trying to entertain myself and others. To bad they were all in crap moods. And I refuse to dwell on the pit of swine that I lovingly call work, so...

Greer, you are in my prayers for a positive outlook and fast recovery.
Randy and Reet, I hope you find Jackie Brown. She's such a cool cat. My thoughts are with you.

I miss you incredibly. It arrives in waves, rising and falling with my mood or how much I am affected by the idiots around me. I dreamt about you - you were happy and strong, and I was glad that you were there.

This was last night. A few drinks, a ride home from the new impossible, and no possibles on the horizon, and this is where my mentality ended up. Moving right along.

* The following is a note to a friend whose blog I have been reading (not sure if she knows it or not.) Anywho, I tried to post a comment on her blog and, wonder of all wonders, damn thing was too long. So I'm putting it up here. I'm sure some will find this ironic, 'cause really it's what many of you people tell me! *

Sweetie! The fact that you are so hard on yourself is a good and a bad thing! Good in that you realize the personal obstacles you face, but bad in that you are beating the crap outta yourself. Stop it! You are learning life as it rides through everyday ups and downs - that's ok! Figure out what you want, don't want, need, don't need, what works, doesn't work, then understand that you will take one step forward and 5 million back before you get it right sometimes. I don't know what your state of mind is today - but you are sweet, intelligent, beautiful and funny, and you deserve to care for yourself as much as we do! If you ever want to chat, get my email from my monkey, 'k? Sorry for the novella.
P.S. Don't hate me for being all motivational speaker-esque.

Feeling a little deflated. A little like the excited balloon has been relieved of all of its air. Only there was absolutely no reason for the excited balloon to be inflated in the first place. I am definitely fighting the doldrums.

Thought of the day: You have trashy novels, and you have thought-searing literature. Then there's threads and kicks that will fall apart in three days because they are cheap, or the quality clothing that lasts forever. Moving on to slack-ass messengers of laziness, and those that will forever come behind them and carry their iron weight.

Ok now, discuss..

Catch Phrase is a fun game...who knew?
What a smart ten year old!
And guess what? MY FOOT STILL HURTS!

Ahem. I'm feeling very smart right now, nevermind that Jon (thanks, man!) practically drew me a picture to show me how to put my e-mail up (shhhh! Don't tell! I'm pretending to be computer savvy!) And there it is -------> Over there somewheres. So, let the feedback begin! G' night!

"You are not excused from social hour..."

I love you guys!

Oh, and I changed the blog a little. Trying to put my e-mail up there somewhere...a little help?

If I was you, I would hate being like everyone else. Ew.

Late night conversations with another Impossible.
I can't believe I really did that.
Hey, I ran nine miles, busta! Now my foot hurts.
Are ALL people really as awful as they seem?

Just catching y'all up on the week.

*********************

So a few people other than family have been here now *bites inner lip in trepidation* It appears to be all of the good that it can be, and I am glad for the feedback. Thing about it is, (something that I have to work on) is that I come here to vent. Rant. Be vexed. Fuss. Contemplate. Mull over. Ya get the idea. I don't come here when I am in all kinds of a great mood. And I'm thinking that I should. Writing has always been my therapy. It is the tool that I use to plaster things back together inside my head. I'm thinking if I start recognizing the lighter side of me, I can lay off on the melancholy a little bit. Not too much now, I'm not trying to scare myself or anything...I feel that I am being redundant at the moment, and this motivates me to get to the point. From now on, in addition to (b/c I think the manner in which I transcribe my stuff is what makes me unique) the usual "hey world, go find a poker game and leave me alone" attitude, I'm gonna try to start relating some of the funny/bizarre/interesting/breathtaking/great cool wonderful things that happen to me.

And my foot STILL hurts.

I am a lover of fabulous conversations. Ones where neither party is complaining or smack talking or worrying or telling of a recent event, but where a higher level is achieved. Philosophical, if you will. Theoretical, too. Maybe a little bit with the opinions and ideas that are so unique to an individual. Deep breath, and...too the point, Kelly! I had one of those Sat. night. A good old conversation about God that actually made me think.

My attention is evading my control, so I'll be back to this later...oh boy.

The sheer distinction alone
making you stand out
has become the ability
to notice me -
if I smile
you see
that I inhabit the same space.
if you are allowed
an unfiltered angle of my eyes
you might understand
that I am
scared
not mean
uncertain
not aloof
it all comes down
to the fated stars aligning
a siberiean window of being
coughing at the right time
or simply whether or not
I choose to lift my face to meet you

So...Good-bye and stuff. You know, don't you? I mean, don't call me or anything, 'cause then I won't be saying no, and we all know I need to.

"I'll bide my time/ until I find /that you're listening..."

And another thing, while we're at letting go and moving on - stop looking down your nose at me. Assuming the air of "better" b/c you think you have it more together than I do. "I don't know, but whatever...*knowing, mature chuckle*

Just wait. When I do come into myself, there will be no stopping me or questioning my motives. It will be so blatant and in your face, none of y'all will know what hit you.

"Fighting the battle of who could care less..."

From some song that I heard on O-rock...fitting, isn't it?

So I am fed up. Not like, "Kelly's pitching a fit dear God everybody run" fed up, but fed up in the sense that I am over listening to myself speak. Yeah, I know I'm trying to work everything out. Yeah I know that you can talk to your friends (the true ones) until you are blue in the face if you really need to, and they will listen and try to help or just listen and try not to scream "shut up already with this woman of the world nonsense! Humble yourself and get a man, a job a HOBBY, something!!" I KNOW how to fix most of what ales me, and have an inkingly of how to deal with the stuff that I don't know how to fix entirely. I appear to be in what they call at work the "land manatee" stage, where I'm slow moving, cumbersome, and basically taking up space with the sheer weight of all that stomps around my head...

Off to work, to be continued later...

"Because then you get leftovers. Shrimp and lobster are never leftover. Meatloaf is. Do you like meatloaf?"

Could it be any simpler?
The universe is waiting on me...
but do I have to?

Oh. Good. Lord.
I am le tired.

Trying in vain to keep myself awake for a coupla more hours...so forgive if this gets bramble-y. It just goes to show you that sometimes fun comes with a price tag. No sleep. Drama. Mishaps. Delerium. Tables at 4:10, those bastards.

Maaaan, I can't fight it anymore. I'm going to bed, I don't care if it is 6:30 in the evening.

You kissed me...at the bar...?
And you, suck it up, mister.
Was that really Michael Jordan?
Mack is the name, number stealing is the game...
hanging out with the most popular man in St. Augustine.

I will settle here, on my perch, and look at you down the bridge of my beak. Thus has been the weekend. My thoughts volley between: him, him, him, or HIM, San Francisco or oh my God do I have to live in Florida anymore, should I go out or take the rest that my body truly needs, caring or really not...at all, ever...

One day someone will look at me and say, "Kelly. I know." Oh how the breath will rush out of me then.

HEY, LIFE!?! Will you please stop throwing these loops at me? Thanks. Really appreciate your cooperation on that.

And when I say loops, I do mean of the fruity variety..."huh. Did that just happen? Wow." Which is why "wow" has become the new nickname of choice...how are you, Monkey? You know what I'm screamin' don't cha? Just when you think you've found your path, some powder-incensed angel with plastic wings and a crooked halo shows you how many more whacked out curves there are going to be along the way.

Even those that understand me don't get it.

Something weird is going on.

The cat seeing invisible,
tremors calling at all hours looking to be nuzzled,
the snow in the rain with a faint meow.

Oh, what you must think of me.

Who ARE you, little man? You sprang forth into my life from a litany of non-existence, recognition taking shape in a pink house where you barely registered me, but in my reverence, I absorbed every detail of you.

A conquest of sorts, I was not good enough, type enough, tan enough...one of the enough's that I will never measure up to and don't really care to. For you to look upon me and try, no matter how meager and fickle the effort, was a triumph within itself. You will never know it, and I will forever fall short of understanding it, this need, but there it sits on a ottaman in my brain, because it is relaxed now. It has BECOME.

Pride, in being nothing to someone.

For a while I tried to take it back. Then change it. Make the nothing into some semblance of feeling. Now I realize that effort in this manner is futile, and I am more saddened by the apathy with which I regard the situation than the emptyness it is in my heart. I can feel without loving, is what I have learned. Something passionate can be mechanical and predictable and I think I might die before I settle for that in my life. Who knows, maybe I will.

The end of the world as we know it in 20 years?
Can I get an apartment please?...
or just a path in this world to follow...with stops along the way to love, family, fulfillment...are you out there still, or have you wandered away too?

These are the things that I worry about. I know that people have been predicting the end of the world ever since the world was created...but, you see, I have soooo much to do before this deterioration and ultimate demise. Have you ever read "Alas, Babylon"? The only book I have ever regretted reading (that and Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man...shudder...fade into Joe Babe's voice..."compare and contrast, com-PARE and CON-trast...fools!" Sorry, I'm back. Revisited AP English there for a moment.) Anyway, that book scared some of the sense out of me (stop wondering what happened to the rest of it.) It was my first revelation of the fact that the world that we live in is indeed not permanent and we're (crazy humans) not doing much to keep from screwin' it up. God, I could go on about this forever, so I won't. Point being, I still have to do some meaningful things, meet him (man of my dreams) and them (the kids that I will someday torture), and write a book of poems, and stuff (I'm an adult, cross my heart.) But this freaking voice in the back of my head keep droning "yeah, like global warming or nuclear warfare is gonna hold off for you." Ok, Pandora's Box. Back to the pit of my stomach from whence you came...

I hate online apartment search engines...sure they have technical names but I'm not sure that I care. They trip me out a little. I find them quite depressing. 'Cause, look-it. You put in your price range and all, and the computer screen practically laughs at you as it spits back "no results found in your price range, sucka!" Frustrating point numero uno. Numero dos, I haven't a clue in the universe where any of these places are. Crack town? Snob Hill? Murder central? I dunno, but the world's supposed to fall at my feet, remember, so please to find something reasonable, safe, roomie enough with a bay window and some good, light...thanks so much. *I'm waving at you from my parallel universe.* Mucho frustrating point numero tres, how in the hell will I go about looking at these places? How am I gonna find the hidden fees? Are my neighbors going to be morons who vacuum at 2 am? How the HELL am I going to be by myself in such a big place?

School or work?
Residency?
Taxes?
Unexpected expenses?
Car?
Coming home?


AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Talking myself down and reminding myself to breath, I will be taking my worrisome self off to bed now, where I will undoubtedly enact several more bizarre dreams in my head. And to you I say, Good Night.

Making the actual decisions is not the hard part. Figuring out which decisions to make is the clincher.

HEY YOU GUYS!
Do you know how much I love you?

We all know the story. She moved around a lot. She's seen a lot of things, met a lot of people, and left them all. Either her heart gets torn up every time, or she conceals it in bubble wrap and packing tape, then locks it in a steel box. You all know which option I chose, and damned if I didn't end up losing the key.

"Screw you, think I'm cold, but I'm not getting hurt. Yeah, lonely, solitary. But no ouches, mmmkay?"

Yet another mantra. I am strong. And if you can't hear me cry silently, then you don't deserve my pain.

I have left people, best friends and loved ones, and I've cried and moved on. Away. Literally. People have touched me, changed me, helped me and hurt me, but there are very few that I miss. Survival of the military brat, I'll wager.

Sometimes I happen upon other lonely souls. And I guess that's why I tend to collect these shadows. The unstable ones whom I love fiercely because I identify with them,(a love that is akin to a candle flame just before it burns itself out - bright fire turned to dark extinction). The ones that I will always turn the porch light on for at 3 AM, because they need me, dammit. The ones who take what they need from me, and give little back, because I can be that strong. tut-tut. Even when I know I might be hurting myself, it makes me feel to be loving. And eventually I find the right ones to love.

You know who you are.

I feel like I'm thawing. And instead of melting away, I am warming up and changing shape. You have helped me to open my box. You have given me a foundation that will never budge. Evolve and grow, but it is not moving. You have made me laugh, and called me out, intentionally or not, to make me cry. You have danced with me and listened to me and given me the faith to dance by myself. You have made mistakes so that I can learn from them, and waited (or raged) on the sidelines as I made my own. You have made me understand that it is possible to love, and drift, and connect, and leave, and always come back to the very center of the knot of love and friendship that you have helped me to create.

If you were gone, I would miss you.

When you do leave, I will always love you.

Because inadvertently, I made that love, given and received, a part of me. Each person that I have encountered has made a mark on my soul.

You are my soul.

As much as I am my own, and cherish that difference, I would not be the different that I am without you.

Oh my God, all of the ways that each of you mean to me.

"I don't feel Pale."
"Are you Irish?"
"Religious Satan."
"You do sound like a mad monkey."
"Just re-align your chi." "My chi is too spastic to be aligned."
"Forget it all. Just go."
"Let's go shoot some turkeys."
"This is my baby-girl. She's wonderful."

Why do I smile when I want to shriek?

Anger: "A strong feeling of displeasure or hostility."

Rage: 1. Violent, explosive anger. 2. Furious intensity, as of a storm or disease. 3. A burning desire; a passion.

Fury: Violent, uncontrolled action; turbulence

Disappoint: To fail to satisfy the hope, desire, or expectation of...

I was that girl again
yay
for the rigid snow
in Florida

One day
the Unwelcomeness will settle
until then
I will float with a grin

and a cry
"I want to leave!"
too much and
so much for Sundays

"Nice? Really? Are you sure? 'Cause you know, there are plenty of girls out there who understand how to deal with this kind of thing. Me, well, I think my head might just explode."

I should be in a bubble. Not for diseases and such, but for like, interacting with other people.

"What's with the girl in a bubble? Is she sick?"
"No, just emotionally inept. Apparently, she knows how to deal with morons, but give her a nice guy and sheesh, it's like handing a vampire a cross or garlic, or something."

Maybe come with an instruction sheet. A sign proclaiming that I only seem like the queen of the non-reaction. God, how I would love to find someone who could make me react. Melt. Come down off the high horse that I've been kicking the rest of them in the face from. Gonna take a lot...case in point...

On being single...oh, come on, you guys knew that this was coming...

Who knows when I will admit defeat?

So it's good, right? 'Cause I am super independent. Makes my skin crawl to think of having to answer to someone -

Boyfriend: "Where are you going?"
Girl afraid of commitment (it's not so much fear as it is the desire to avoid all unnecessary bullshit...why are you laughing?) : "What's it to you, nosy...wait, that's part of being in a relationship, huh? Yeah, my guy friends and I are going out for some beers...don't wait up! Love you!"

Right. Hope that works out for you.

Ideal situation:
Boyfriend: "Good deal. Have fun. I'll probably roll with some buddies (or otherwise entertain myself). Call me if you need anything, and oh, by the way...can we make a date for sometime later in the week?"

Sure, when the temperature gets a lot cooler down below...to quote One Tree Hill (I only watched it once, really. When some mysterious muscle spasm had hold of my legs and I was unable to reach the T.V. to change the channel. Honest. Seriously, stop laughing)

Even more ideal situation...wanting to tell you what's up with me, without feeling threatened, or stifled...or the strange urge to run away with my hands in the air screaming "Noooo! You'll never get me! Never!"

What would really happen -

"Gonna do what with who? Hu-uh. I'm comin' with you."

Or worse...

You just don't care.

The employees at the DMV were nice to me today...and I am the worst over-packer in the world.

"Hmmm. Should I take the red boots, too? 'Cause the other boots have heels on them...what if we do some walking?" *sigh*

And God forbid that I am not entertained for every second that I am awake. I have magazines, books, music, stuff to write with...all b/c I have the attention span of a gnat and might die if I had to just sit for two minutes. I am going to be gone for 5 days.

For as many times as I bleat "I should've been born a boy!" I am far too into accessorizing. Although I do know of a certain boy out there who packed more than I did when we went on a 7 day cruise, so now I feel better!

My Mantra? "Still holding my breath!"

Goodie! Another drunk one. Which I have convinced myself I cannot be bitter about. Here's why. You go to a bar, odds are quite high that you are going to meet drunk men. it's inevitable, really. Like going to the beach, and meeting a surfer. Or working in a resteraunt, and meeting a crack head.

Making Some Old Stuff New

Bits and pieces. Examples of what I have to pick through to display coherence.

Who cares what you think. Read this, and bite me. I don’t live for you, breath for you, exude passion for you. You just happen to inhabit the same planet that I do, we might chance upon sharing the same space every now and then...for a heartbeat or longer...whatever. The point is I don’t need the approval that you think I should strive for. Don’t want it, if it means that I have to act like you. You live in your perception of the time that you are here, and I’ll live in mine. The less that we try to change each other, the better.

******************

Exploding would be too dramatic for my nature, even though that is what I long for. If anything major ever happened to me, it would be me, imploding. My insides would cave in on themselves and disintegrate, leaving my body an empty box. Looking from the outside in, nobody would even notice that what was essentially me was gone. I would function the same, look the same, smile the same, but there would be nothing of me there, and no one observing me would be any wiser. Exploding would display what is inside of me, and we all know that I am not comfortable with that. Never say what I truly feel ‘cause then I might not be the sweet one. Never say what I really want because then I might not get it. Have fun, but never to the point of ridiculousness – God forbid I look like a fool. Distance is the attitude that I adopt, fear and diffidence are what rule me. While I long, I don’t know quite what it is that I long for. Sometimes I covet the characteristics of red – bold and deep, striking, hard to miss, strong. Most of the time the attributes that I possess are those of sage green. Silent, soft, becoming a part of the milieu. If even-keeled is what I am, then why can’t I be happy with that?

******************

December 16, 2003

To have a conversation like that with someone is like poetry. Magic, movement, art, life. As I want to live it. To explain myself so thoroughly, to be understood and to actually understand, myself, what I am saying, I cry quietly because it is so touching to me. It is hard for me to communicate. It is hard for me to discern how I feel, almost until the minute that the feeling or thought is upon me. To do this unplanned, is startling to me. To reveal myself so well, and not have record of doing so to reflect on later makes me choke with panic. I did not know that was what I wanted until I talked to you. Explaining myself to you was jointly explaining myself to me.

My thoughts are so jumbled, because of this huge release. I don’t want to lose how this makes me feel – I’ve felt the flame flicker and is so in danger of flaming out. A part of me screams that it is done, now just do it. Another part of me wants to get this down so that I can understand, and not keep perpetuating the cycle.

******************

When I understand
My eyes are only one way
Romeo is mine.

******************

As my body shakes
I wonder about reserve
Still I turn over

******************

The Beast

Slouching with booth posture at Denny’s
watching Teddy grin cheerfully at the drunken idiots
while you marvel at what he’s not saying
and what you would be,
with much gusto and gesturing.
I think it makes him better,
(if there was such a travesty
as rank of quality
by temper or ones take on life,
never mind what money’s supposed to get you)
his Adaptability and detachment.
Makes him the tree that stretches
instead of breaking
from the strain of all that social wind.
He may be the next Plato
for all we know.
You think he’s simple, oblivious.
Seems to me that he has the beast
by the same horns
that impale us.

They Think I'm Crazy

It is amazing how hot a face can get when it flushes. All that blood rushing up so quickly that it makes your head appear like a luminous red light bulb. Apparently this causes a chain reaction, too: after my face turned all of its shades of crimson, my hands start to shake and my mouth gets as dry as sand. After a drought. In Arizona. The reaction is so violent that a person who knows me intimately but not at all was able to notice. Curses! This would be hideously galling had communicating my feelings, however platonic, not been the goal. But so it was, and there I was squirming with the foreignness of it all.

Then I get the wedding invitation...dun dun DUN. Not even the real one, but a WARNING one. I swear to God, these things are engineered to torture those of us who cling to the single lifestyle. Yes, I am perfectly happy with my life as is - body image, plans for the future, marital status, or lack there of. No, I do not care the slightest bit about what these people (who sometime remind my of 13th graders, choosing to take the high school social dramas with them into adulthood) think of me. Curious, though. I mean, really thought provoking. The minute that my nosy little hands seperated the flap from the glue on the envelope, I started thinking " 'K. I've got x amount of time to make my body look droolably amazing, create a plan for my life so that I don't have to claim waiting tables anymore, and find me one hell of a good looking man, even if I have to trip his ass in a bar." Curious indeed.

2:17am

The older i get, the less I care. I sit in my car and bob my head, writing furiously, maniacly as the minutes flow past the baby hours of the morning. Florida School for the Deaf and Blind campus security stopping to check that I'm o.k. because I'm looking half-cracked with the motor running and the dome light on. I look weird but I feel just fine. Normal would be the problem for me.

My hand
flashes in and out
of the sunlight
like the fickleness
of my mind

to be the lamb
or the wolf
wearing both skins
is damn near impossible

**********************

Every day I learn how-not-to...how not to look down my nose at other people because my actions (or lack there of) surprise me about once every hour. How not to let go of dignity and respect, in whatever form I cherish it. When I am single and lonely, literally throwing 'bows to stand on my feet and not be crushed in the pit of, let's call it society, sometimes those two things are all that I have. And I can wake up the next day and be happy to have them. I am reminded everyday of how not to put people on pedestals. It's so damn disappointing when they come up short, and you see them bustin' out the step ladder to climb back up there every time that they fall. Even more disappointing when I'm right there beside them with a taller ladder - for it turns out I can't seem to keep my balance, either. How not to wonder what other people would do, or how they will react to what I do. "What do you think - what would you do?" If it mattered, we would all be living this gigantic joint life, called robots, or beings without souls...
What I am working on now is how not to be indecisive. At this point in my life, I would rather jump without looking and sort it all out later than calculate every inch of the fall as I make my way down.
I think I'll work my way off the pedestal in my head first, though.
Then maybe I'll start with a kiddy pool.

Karma has a hard payback rate

************

It's funny, 'cause I really wanted to know you. I'm still not at the point where I would hold my breath over anyone, (we'll see if my face ever turns blue) but I genuinely wanted to see what you were all about, and I wasn't concerned about getting jerked around. This is unusual. As per, I lovingly cut my men from the herd called "not for me, but then I know that, 'cause they're all jerks." If you know it's not worth it, it's easier to lick your wounds and move on. Fade to me, cuddling my old friend disappointment, yet again. Even my confidence is asking "is it me? Really, am I doing something wrong?"

I think I figured out when I was fourteen that I am one big jumbled mass of contradictions. I am very sweet natured, but I can bust out with the forked tongue of a snake when ignorance or injustice abounds. Highly motivated, but willing to lay around in jammies all day, 'cause I don't really feel like doing anything. The shadow of shyness has always stalked me, yet I am a natural entertainer, albeit with a very dry sense of humor (thank you Grandpa Blake)
I like these things about myself. Even I don't know what to expect out of me. But sometimes, my opposing sides cancel each other out, and I wind up feeling like an empty human-shaped nut shell, because the real nut of substance doesn't always get a chance to grow.

"This is me, in a nut shell."
"But Kelly, there's nothing there."

For instance, when I was thinking about what to write in here, I wondered about rage. Sometimes I intuit that I could dig up a lot of good fodder for the garden that is my writing skills, if I could just lose it, totally rage and let go of all of my inhibitions. Such a tiny little space,the creative plot of land that is in my mind. Probably it would wreck it over and back again if I lost some of my control, but ironically, that's what I think I need. Funny, isn't it. If I could just freak right the hell out, just totally rage and let go of all my inhibitions, I think I would be better off. Crazy, but at least I could be creative.
When I learn how to balance my contradictions, I'll be all set.

"So, you lead a pretty, uh, fast life-style...Why are you interested in me?"

"Well, I'm tired of the threesomes..."

K, here's the thing. When you're in the presence "of a lady this time..." and she seems to be at least trying to keep up a ruse of respectability, probably that's not the best thing to come out of your drunken mouth. This being the line that tops all lines, my interest was sparked in compiling a list of other things boys say that have left us all with the same thoughts as Rachel on Friend's "Did you forget who I was for a minute?"

*Please note that I cannot be held responsible for the St. Auggie "vernacular" that proceeds...the dialogue that follows may give you just a peek into why I am so adamant about leaving this fair city, with all of it's quaint slackers and crack heads.

- So, I was trying to hook up with another girl, but she got way wasted and hooked up with some guy...but then I saw you, and I was glad that she left!

- What's your friend's name? (If you're not brave enough to ask her, then you sure as hell don't need to be dealing with me)

- Where are all the hot chicks?

- You're a man hater, huh? I bet I could change your mind.

- Will your man break my neck if I ask for your digits?

And for the moment, my all time favorite -

- Do you come here often?

No joke, you could see the teeth in the back of my head, I laughed so hard at this one.

Life at it's finest is hilarious, and at it's worst, ironic enough to be entertaining.

Why look - just jump...

Hallucinations brim
causing a facial tick
mastering the art of display
across a face that is locked
and mystery-less as a stone

how you would jump
if the stone you'd come to depend on
as expressionless
made heed spontaneously
in it's struggle to be more
than what you needed it to be

No more a stone
than you should be it's miner

***************************

And won't I always start with a crack at a poem. Always striving, anyway.