tigresslilly

So yea, I'm a awake but a but grouchy. Both my mom and my dad have very early morning exercise and be at work schedules. I'm glad that they're exercising and not letting their lack of weight loss put them off their diets or exercise routine. I don't mind being vaguely awake and aware of those grumblings when they're moving around. I don't really mind when they call out to talk to me and make me fully awake either but I can't fall back asleep and when they leave I'm just tired and grouchy with nothing to do

It's all good, I'll drink tea later and life will pick up.

As a side note now that my facebook picture hunt addiction is over and my try to revive the insanejournal has proven it's not enough (can only post so often, sometimes I have nothing to say, not committed enough for a nanowrite, and can only respond to some friends and coms) I am addicted to facebook apps. I've got cafe world, farmville, fish town, and happy fish. I have others that I tried and just didn't make it to the temp addiction phase. So yeah I'm a little lame.

Moved around all my icons again. Since I only have about 100 free slots whenever I plan a massive update I delete a few I'm not using and add in the newbies. Sometimes i have more space at the end of the swap around. My fannish icons are getting less and less these days but I think that's because I'm not participating in the fandom as much as I should/thought I would. Need to find some Dollhouse and Fringe groups stat.

In other related notes, I've been slowly backdating old journals I never posted because I didn't have internet and journals I wrote by hand.  While going through my Senior high school journal I realized that beyond being pretentious and righteous and a know it all I sometimes had interesting thoughts and connections, but there's a lot of muck to rake through first.  

Also thanks to my backdating, all my Wyoming journals are off the first page of my journal.   There's more in between I should type in but I'm stuck at a particularly angsty journal I don't want to write in or look at again maybe ever. C'est la vie. 

Finished my application for an educator's liscence.  Hopefully the second set of tests will be worked up and graded soon and I'll have everything I need to start applying for jobs.  It's not an ideal time to hunt but we've all got our crosses to bear on that front.  Minimally tutoring of some sort should be approachable.

I have been writing a lot in my paper journal on my back and forth from here to Boston.  I''ll probably back date and add those entries in later for my own records.  I think there will be a lot of time spent journal writing that way this summer.  It makes me super glad  I got a small cute owl journal earlier this year. 

Today is pretty much the day I'll have off for a little while.  Not complaining about it at the moment, just saying.  

I'm still really into the work I'm doing at the fund, which is good because it's only been three days and it would be terrible if I suddenly stopped liking it.  I find that I'm surprisingly a tiny bit embarassed to explain or talk about what I do to other people.  Which is odd because I've never felt that way about working for fast food or working as a secretary.  Maybe it's the way people rush to tell me I'm doing a good thing and have a strong moral compass and so on.  It's like they are justifying the work for me or something.  I don't like the feeling that people are making excuses for why I do what I do. 

And I'm not doing something embarassing.  I'm a grassroots activist with strong focuses in bringing information to the public, getting support and bringing momentum to campaign against big buisness lobbists.  You do that one person at a time door to door or on the streets.  Then you follow up with publishing as much as you can in any newpaper, magazine, or other work that will have you.  You petition and send letters to congressmen and reps.  None of this is embarassing stuff.  It's empowering and interesting and potentially hope laden.  I'm confused by my own reactions when explaining the job really. 

Met this kid Todd the other day who goes to MCLA.  Got a million little bits of gossip from him and I was loving it.  We had a ball and I'm sorry that I won't be seeing him again.  Makes me think this job is really going to give me more of a chance to reach out and make some more friends or friendly aquantences.  The ones I have are great but I need a few more really.  And I know I'm done with college and need to move out of that mind set into something else, but I dunno, as long as I'm not trolling college activities and classes looking for friends, it's probably ok for me to float for a little while. 

  I also noticed that if a gay guy tosses around the word whore all the time it doesn't bother me.  Maybe because he never really meant it as any one thing, just something to say inbetween like cool or awesome would be for most.  Maybe it's my own persceptions of who can or can't call someone a whore.  I don't know, it's got me thinking.  Because I know people have used that word causually in convo and it's pissed me off, so I'm trying to figure out why now, while I've recently been hyper sensitive about language and its usuage, hearing whore bantered around made me laugh and shrug most of the time.  Is it a preconcieved notion I need to address with me or is it really a case of context and usage?

The veneer of the Fund has been tarnished for me and I'm relieved. I learned that it's all about the money and being liked as far as staying goes.  They do actually throw away some of the petitions when they become unwieldy instead of saving them all.  They keep people they don't like or trust or whom don't follow protocal if they make money and if you don't make money and are liked you can stay forever.   It makes me less nervous to know who I'm playing ball for and to know it's all the status quo.  I think it might be enough for me that the money and effort is going to the cause and that there's a middle ground between horribly earnest and intense people and people who don't care at all.  It's more human. 

And I'm off to Jason Maraz soon so I'm happy all around.  Will tell more about the Mohegan Sun and all else afterward, but I'm stoked.  ^_^

Zac,

So my emotions are finally in such a state of flux that I don't know what they are. I think I'm angry and hurt which is mostly amusing because one reason we dated was that I didn't think you could hurt me. I'd had my share of know down brawls and I was done with them. I needed someone safe and secure.

I still don't know what your raised voice sounds like. I don't much care either.

I thought our relationship meant more. I should have known you have no sticking power. Between an unpleasant place and the possibility of better living, you chose the known quantity. I wasn't safe or sure enough for you to consider the risk.

You choose the stupid risks over those that might actually land you somewhere. I left thinking I just didn't get it, that you were some mystery. You know what, no one gets it!

There is so much I don't get:

1. Why didn't you pick a major and finish. You knew the debt and you meandered around. I was a luxury you didn't have.

2. Why Wyoming over Ian's?

3. How could you just give up without thought? What did I do that made you decide I wasn't enough to even consider and in light of choosing not to, why didn't you lie? You couldn't wait until after I left to break up?

You are on of those people who can never be at fault because you never choose. You are at fault by not choosing sometimes as much and then you never got what you wanted from the whole mess.

Can you even make a decision? Are you capable of being ahead of the curve instead of behind it?

I don't think I want to talk to you or abou you again. You have hurt me so much without meaning it. You don't mean anything ever though.

I'm so hurt, angry, and sad. I don't regret but I don't know if I'd be amenable to seeing you again, even on an as friends basis.

Perhaps the saddest outcome is that I don't hear you. With those I spend so much time with, there are imaginary mental counter parts with whom I speak to in place of the actual. You don't have on because you never have anything to say. You believe people like talking just to be heard, but I don't. I want the response, dialogue, reactions, thoughts. I want another view and balance. You never gave me this. I think you could have but didn't.

I did value your acceptance. Open arms and keen but kind eyes was something I needed, but one can't be done to the exclusion of the other. It's always been hard for you but I'm not binary girl. Either or's aren't my mindset.

What I miss most about you are the touches. It's something that you'd think I could get elsewhere. In some specific scenarios, I know I could do better even. You'd be surprised how reluctant I am to replace those comforts or how many of those warm hugs and rubs fall flat. Sad melancholy those people meant to chase away deepens. Your touch meant support, love, affection, acceptance. Even as I know your body lied, created a support system the rest off you had no intention of giving, I miss it. Its nice to feel that with no strings attached even if it's a lie.

All of this is to say that while I'm a liar and emotionally unavailable at times, you are a deceiver. While I don't love you, can't love what is really there: a scared boy who wants a stability and love from his parents that they will never be able to provide. Someone who chases this illusion subconsciously and single mindedly to the destruction of all else-- and if this isn't you either, I have no clue who you are. Shy, fearful in so many ways I'm not, you were good for me in spite of it all. I'm mostly sorry I wasn't good for you in some way. I hope you figure yourself out. I hope you find what you need. Most of all, I hope you find your joy. I'm sorry I wasn't more helpful in those pursuits. Goodbye.

Never Again Yours.