ProxY

Foot by Foot

2010-07-30T11:50:00.000-07:00

Last summer, I went to my cousin DJ's wedding at Crystal Mountain, a truly beautiful spot where I saw the northern lights for the first time. Family weddings have a tendency to be huge (my mom has 12 siblings) and it turns out my favorite people in the world are my family. This picture was taken at the top of the mountain, after a terrifying ski-lift ride over very pointy-looking terrain. Look at that blue sky!

This is my first summer in San Francisco/Oakland. I spend time every day applying for jobs, looking up my friends online (thank you facebook) and hanging out with Chris. I've gotten ONE, yes ONE job interview from all my applying thus far. The interview was this Tuesday, and I think I did well. As much as a person can tell how they did in a job interview, I think I did ok.

My mom is in town for the week, and although she has a presentation to finish today, we're going for pedicures this afternoon. We found her some new cute heels yesterday, so a pedicure is only fair, I think. I'm getting one so she has someone to chat with and help pick a nail color...ok, I'm taking the free pedicure for my myself, ok? Ok!

It's so nice to see my mom, since I've been having a bit of a crisis of belief (in myself) and she doesn't see it that way. My mom is, in fact, my biggest fan, and thinks the writing and art and theater I do is great! Sure, the cliche thing to mention would be that she's my mom and thus obligated to feel that way, but i know a lot of people whose parents simply don't GET what their children try to do in the arts, and don't like them doing it. My mom loves what I do, and that's so good to hear and see when she visits.

I have a lot of unstructured time thee days, and it's been driving me a little crazy. When there's no work to be had, and no creative juices flowing, everything seems darker and suddenly you fear there's no place for you in the world. I've been going to bed early and getting up late, dragging my self-pitying ass around as if the universe is going to swallow me up any minute now, and it's....no....fun. Feeling like a worthless piece of pooh is utterly no fun.

BUT, although i was nervous at first about seeing her while I was feeling this way, having my mom here is a blessing and a delight. She really loves Chris, she REALLY loves me, and she's a woman I admire. She reminded me yesterday that she went back to school at 35 to get her PhD in Accounting, so although it feels like she's had her dream career her entire life, that really isn't the case. It's good to remind myself that we're all trying to find a way to live that makes us fulfilled and happy, and there's no prescribed way that fits all people.

So some days I will have to apply for jobs, hear nothing back, and handle it until the next day. Some times my stomach will feel like a hot lump of stress, and I can handle that too. Looking forward to a pedicure and showing Chris my shiny new nails!

Blue Wednesday

2010-07-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

Today we went into the city. I applied for some jobs, we came home, and now there's banana bread in the oven. This is all very exciting, I'm sure.

The creative block continues, although i forced myself to collage (see above) before giving up entirely and turning on Adult Swim. Yes, I'm watching Family Guy as i type my blog. Yes I am comfortable telling the world all this.

Dante and Cormac are collapsed, respectively, on the chair and the couch. Exhausted, no doubt, by the long day of eating and being petted and sleeping and poohing. They are the image of righteous exhaustion.

It's not fair to do one sentence a paragraph, but it makes me feel I've accomplished something.

Ok that one wasn't even a long sentence.

Chris is off biking to working out and i find it difficult to write a brief summary of my daily activities. MY daily activities which as of now do not include any gainful employment. Hence the job search.

I thought if i just hauled off to California, with my heart strong and graduate school chosen, i would somehow seamlessly become a Writer, and published at that. Mistakes were made. Errors occured. I failed my first class. Exciting, eh? And writer's block. Woo hoo. Now I'm intent on at the very least blogging every day. That? I can do.

Job

2010-07-13T10:56:00.000-07:00

If we've met, however briefly, you are aware that I hate looking for work. Job hunting is the single most frustrating activity in existence. I'm in a new city, looking for work that doesn't suck.

If anyone would like to hire me to make earrings such as the one pictured above, i'll take the job. Right now. boom.

July 9th, 2010

2010-07-09T22:58:00.000-07:00

We had wine with the family and cheeseburgers at a bar, and Chris's surrogate brother is spending the night. All is good, I am living with my best friend who loves me. Yay.

2010-07-08T22:34:00.000-07:00

My hair is much longer now than in this photograph. Which I took of myself. Girls like doing that a lot.

I have a headache and I'm going to a boyfriend's-family gathering tomorrow, so I may be getting to bed soon. Not without blogging first, however.

The futon is clean and dry, no thanks to the horrible cat. I have laundry to do and a headache. Have I mentioned the damn headache?

Chris is going to be wearing a button-up shirt. He looks ADORABLE in button up shirts. I'm excited!

OY. Headache. Goodnight.

(a button-up! YAY!)

On the Prowl

2010-07-07T11:43:00.001-07:00

I moved to California in December, and since I came here, I haven't yet settled into life. I still feel like this is an extended trip of sorts, a vacation from real life. I live with my high-school crush, and he loves me back. I got into graduate school, like I dreamed. I'm still reeling from all the good fortune.

I have writers block. Writing about writers block is frustrating. writing about writing about writers block is infuriating. Avoiding writing about writers block isn't helping. So I'm going to have to write every day, whether I'm inspired or not. Because I miss how easily the words came to me when i was miserable, and I have no intention of being miserable again, so The Rules have changed. Let's see how this works out, shall we?

Kai Ken, Kith and Kin.

2009-11-20T12:07:00.000-08:00

(This is a Kai Ken, or 'tiger dog'....The next inevitable step towards utter asian-breed obsession. I've considered getting a 2nd dog, and this would be it. Cormac and Rosetti would be ever so happy together.)

Reader-san, I am a negligent jerk, and I'm so sorry if you've been frustrated in stalking me due to my inability to blog. That's right, Stalker. I know who you are and I refuse to cater to your needs and thank you for those nice translucent curtains, they really brighten up the living room.

It took me nigh 11 months, but I got into a masters program for illustration, so i am officially an art student. I'll be attending the Academy of the Arts in San Francisco in spring 2010. I leave Chicago in January.

These last few weeks of 2009, I'm packing, working two freelance projects (not to mention editing my mom's papers), setting up my financing for grad school, and hanging out with Pad before I move. It's a hectic time.

Now, for the record, Pad has never read this blog. It was his call and I appreciate the sentiment, although i'd be just as happy wwith him reading the blog. It's not a secret life, not too racy....my parents are computer literate, let's leave it there. He has, however, encouraged me to write lately. Write and draw and publish however I can. That, reader-san, is awesome. Pad, who will not read this, you are fucking fantastic to cheer me on the way you do.

It also turns out I'll be attending art school with Chris and Phil, and living in the same city as Elaine, Jenn, and Nathalie (soon?), all former WHS AP/IB classmates. I cannot describe how overwhelmed and grateful I am to have reconnected with my high school friends. Because, um, I spent a few years very deliberately trying to erase any memories of living in Utah. Casualties of this idiotic idea were thankfully few.

To explain, my sister died. I didn't blame Utah, but I did hate it, anything that reminded me of it, and to a certain extent anyone I knew when she was sick. I made an active effort to be open about the problem (eating disorders, like all nightmares, are much less scary when spoken aloud), and having sweet, loving friends, I was screwed.

They cared way to much to ignore my grief, and I wanted to burn it out and scatter the ashes. No processing, no making it feel better. At the time, apathy was damn appealing, and it's hard to go numb surrounded by people who love you. Kendra was the exception, everyone else I avoided or talked to only online.

Years later, my friends haven't said a damn word about it, bless their hearts. They responded to every clumsy email I managed to send out, they sought me out, they still loved me. I am crazy fucking lucky.

Now I get to live in a city with half a dozen best friends. YAY!

Friendly Fiends

2009-10-04T14:27:00.001-07:00

Went out to Cali this week, to interview for a new job and get my portfolio photographed by a great photographer (totally spoiled my usual habit of scanning pictures for the rest of my life, Dammit) It was beautiful, 70 degrees the entire time, and only a little bit foggy when the sun set over the ocean...which was worthwhile since, ahem, i was watching the sun set over the fucking ocean.

The final two steps of my application are submitting the fee (which is kinda freakin high if you ask me) and writing my statement of intent That, my friends, will be an exercise in control.

Artists' statements are inherently pretentious. I hate them, never read 'em in galleries, and kinda want to punch artists who insist on including a paragraph with every pretty thang they draw. It's the same reason I never listen to my improvisor friends' podcasts. Yes, the show was fun. NO, decribing why you made the show fun in the way you made it fun is NOT interesting; it's annoying and about as useful as being your own copy-editor. Fuckin cannibals.

Riding two planes in 48 hours gave me quite a cold. I can't focus. *sigh*

After Today

2009-09-28T17:12:00.000-07:00

My job has been an ongoing issue for me...i spend 8 hours miserable, 5 days a week, which translated into 120% bitchiness for Pad, bless his tolerant heart, and a heart cobwebbed with doubt. I was entirely unsure there was a reason to keep on trying when the end result was this. This job. This brainless job, utterly without benefit, except the teeny paycheck.

For the record, the paycheck WAS my goal. I needed to stay in Chicago, and that paycheck helped, and I don't regret it for a sec.

BUT see how happy my puppy is, right there on the beach? I am that happy to never have to spend a day there again.

Crystal Mountain

2009-09-17T05:52:00.000-07:00

My cousin DJ has been dating his girlfriend (now wife) for years, and finally made it official this summer. The wedding was at Crystal Mountain, a stunningly beautiful ski resort and hotel. We had to take two horrible ski lifts (so much creepier without snow beneath) to the summit for pictures. I wasn't in the wedding party, mind you, but the view was worth it.

Most of the weekend I hung out with my cousins, something I haven't done in at least 4 years. In fact, I haven't seen much of the family since Ashley died. It was long overdue.

I tried to take a picture of the northern lights while my cousin Joel pointed out constellations at 2 am, after a few of us stayed late at the reception and closed the place.

After the wedding, I decided to reconnect with high school friends, who I'd also been fairly successfully avoiding for 4 years....

TO BE CONTINUED OOOOHHHH HOW EXCITING HUH????

Crybaby

2009-09-14T08:37:00.000-07:00

When I don't take my meds, I cry.

Like sobbing for hours, end-of-the-world, unstoppable downpour, are you even serious sort of crying.

Now, faithful readers will recall that I sometimes avoid my meds, take them sporadically, or stop altogether. I do this because I get frustrated taking pills that make me so tired so often, that killed my sex drive for a long while *, and make me feel invalid-ated. (get it, like an invalid? but also not-validated? It's funny on a lot of levels, reader-san.)

BUT this is not my fault. I went to my drugstore last weekend, asked for refills, got one and not the other. Now my anti-anxiety meds, which were prescribed specifically because I was still suicidal and wqeeping coinstantly on heavy doses of anti-depressants, are not in stock.

For a week, they've been not in stock--at least, I assume they have, because walgreens hasn't called like they said they would.

SO....

either my meds are there and they're too fucking stupid to call someone on the HIGHEST FUCKING DOSE ALLOWED who asked for a refill a WEEK ago,

or they're NOT restocked, meaning it takes over a week to get medications in, IF they ordered them, IF they're not retarded, which is a big fucking lot of IFs when my life is at stake.

I'm not near danger, reader-san. But I have been. and I could be. And my eyes are swollen and sore from crying, and the only thing keeping me happy with the day is assuming Karma, or Fate, or Someone will ream the fucking asshole, shortsighted, thoughtless pharmacist who dropped the ball.

No, really, they deserve to die.

*different story, different day.

So

2009-09-10T15:04:00.000-07:00

It's been a crazy workday and I meant to write a blog, but I won't be doing so until after I work out, go home, and devour my puppy.

I am hungry for cute.

It's about that time...

2009-09-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

This is Kai. Kai is comprised of marshmallows, so it's utterly acceptable (if not necess) for me to gobble him up.

I just want to point out that I want about ten thousand babies right now. But really just a few, one at a time, and they will be (judging by my family's babies so far) very chubby, beautiful, and have me wrapped. WRAPPED like a christmas present.

See Kai up there in the santaman outfit? I almost slipped him into my purse and took him home with me. Damn you, dilligent Parent parents.

Tummy Tamer

2009-09-02T09:13:00.000-07:00

My tummy's been giving me noise for the last few...er...months.

Now I've always had a weak stomach, not for blood or violence ( cutters don't happen to be a PARTICULARLY squeamish lot, if you can believe it) but for stress and food. Stress makes me tense and unable to breathe, and eating when I'm stressed makes me sick.

Still, loyal followers, y'all who know my history know I have to eat. I can't skip eating for a few days just because everything in my system hurts. I can't even stop eating because I'm pissed that I have to eat crappy food to digest my meds, and meds because I'm depressed, and so forth.

To be clear, I love good food.

I also dislike bad food on a deeply personal level.

Somehow I don't think I've lost any weight, but I haven't gone on a scale for the last 6 months, at least. Somehow, having no disposable income, no time to shop and no energy to go out at night, the exact number of pounds ceases to matter.

And still I feel very diminished. Maybe it's because my body won't freaking relax.

Family

2009-07-25T18:38:00.000-07:00

I went to Crystal Mountain Resort this past weekend for a family wedding. The last wedding I got to attend was Joel and Leah's wedding.

Now, they've got Odin (he's the rediculously cute one on the right) and a baby girl on the way (she's in that tummy). Joel and Leah are a couple that make relationships seem effortless. Just find your perfect mate, and everything else is easy, right? Just be an amazing person and marry an amazing person. Ta-da.

This was my first chance to meet Odin, Eleanor, Katrina, Matthew, Dustin, Jack, and Millie. Millie's the youngest, 5 months, an absolute peach. She slept more soundly in our room than I did. Katrina? My goodness.

She has ringlets, pulls funny faces and she loves attention, so naturally we bonded quick. I've already promised to take her to Vegas when she's 21. She's already promised to look into solutions to my short-finger problem. It's a deal, girl.

Stressed

2009-07-14T14:13:00.000-07:00

I work from 9am-5pm, unline most people I know in the City....most have a part-job, or temp, or have been laid off. Some make a living through theater, the majority through admin work or food service. I work in a health care company, and it's certainly not my calling.

I am very, very cushioned from the current economy, and I'm lucky to be so.

I am very stressed, and have been thinking mean, awful thoughts.

Times like this you've got to admire Cormac for being such a good puppy and loving me anyway.

Warren

2009-07-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

(Poached totes illegaly from WPJ's facebook page. Just look at that adorable face, ladies.)

I know I'm going to have a decent evening if Warren's at the same locale.

I've also been a dick and not gone to see any of his shows in far too long.

That all changes this thursday, reader-san. If you're going to Blackout, comedysportz, 10pm, I'll see you there.

Heated

2009-06-24T07:51:00.000-07:00

Since we're moving into a condo with central air and beautiful amenities, this week is all about avoiding a sweat-related breakup, punching the cat and dog for emitting heat in the apartment, and most of all, wearing little to no clothing while packing.

God damn, our new neighbors will love us.

The Reluctant Artistan

2009-06-18T07:53:00.000-07:00

I avoided creative writing, philosophy, and otherwise angst-ridden classes as much as possible in college. I was already sobbing in the halls at least once a day, didn't seem to be much point in seeking out extra reasons to cry and hate myself.
I slipped up and took a screenwriting class, something for credits' sake. It was senior year, and I'd already gotten enough credits to a)take whatever classes I wanted, b)pare down my usual 20-minute-essay time to 5 or 6 minutes a pop and c) tell the teacher to more or less go fly a kite.

My screenwriting teacher was nutzo. He would play episodes of Beauty and the Geek to show us examples of raw dialogue and emotion. He loved every film treatment that involved rape, murder or dire consequences. He also said this stupid bullshit statement about 3 times a class:

"The day you declare yourself an artist is the day you become one."

Yeah, you're right, sir. Fuck dedication.

The New Place

2009-06-16T14:55:00.000-07:00

Pad and I are moving to 4408 N. Damen on July 1st, or as soon as we put up the security deposit (1st month's rent is paid, however. They're the same amount, to be clear.) We signed the lease for 2 years.

That means we're getting rid of the COUCH and CHAIRS that haunt my waking life.

Also, Pad got some incredible news, but won't let me tell anyone yet.

I didn't want to mention this until all was said and done, because my luck is a cynical bitch with a horrible sense of humor, but I'm pretty pumped. 2 years!