Dream Journal

 

friends | profile | guestbook


recent entries | past entries


:: 2017 23 December :: 10.03 pm
:: Mood: content
:: Music: Peaky Blinders

year's review
Lot happened in the last twelve months. Let's see...

1) Flipped tf out at New Year's last year after evidence of S's drug problem retroactively resurfaced (a compromising story from the past...he hasn't relapsed to my knowledge).

2) But after that, things started getting better. I mellowed out. I don't know that I really reached a place of deeper understanding or release or forgiveness or whatever the hell you want to call it. But I've been letting it go. We're doing pretty alright now. Enough that...

3) We talked about getting engaged. I've talked about it before with a few people in my life. Child's play. This feels no different. This year I wrote: I do NOT want to get married, emphatically, at least four times. So. What am I doing? How can something feel so right and so...unnatural at the same time?

4) In non- S.O. news, I got another church gig. It feels ironic now, like every Sunday I'm in my own private comedy show. It's been nine months now, and I haven't told anyone there anything personal about me. At. All. Nothing heavy, nothing happy or hopeful, nothing real. I've never not opened up about my life to a church community before...I wonder if/how things would change if I did.

5) In other work developments, I started teaching. Both piano and voice, at the studio that I also currently take lessons at. It's been delightful. Doesn't feel like work at all. It is, in some ways, healing me.

6) Between my three jobs, I now actually make money. I ran the numbers for next year, and I actually might break $40k (before 1099 taxes). I have NEVER been this wealthy. I am AMAZED at how much better my quality of life is with more money to spend on things I need/want...I can afford a therapist. I can afford a gym membership, AND a yoga membership. I can afford all my groceries, medication, rent. I can afford to not have a shitty retail/service job. I have time to sleep and cook and clean. I can take myself out for lunch, and I can even finance my art. I might even be able to afford to travel in 2018. It's...incredible to not be panicking about finances on a weekly basis.

7) Cut down on my drinking for vocal health/to help with weight loss/save money/stop killing brain cells/not feel like garbage with a hangover in the morning.

8) Watched an eclipse.

9) Spent a week vacationing in Nashville.

10) Basically kept my company's business running while some stuff went down behind the scenes.

11) Stopped talking to my mother.

12) Ate so many delicious things in Columbus.

13) Fell more in love with life again.

14) Made contact with my old bff, my old voice teacher, and my old high school heartthrob on FB. It kind of felt like...closure. Completely released, for me. He got engaged two weeks later.

15) Kept plugging way at the [$!@#] Gershwin.

16) Finished my 5-year-diary project.

17) Started cooking...and enjoying it?!!?!

18) Started running down at the trail.

19) Join an a capella group...and left it. Artistic differences.

20) Decided to move tf out of this place. Yay. Something to look forward to after one final summer here.

I think that covers the major events. It's been a pretty good year.

Merry Xmas
KL

speak


:: 2017 28 November :: 7.37 am

I think...I might be getting married!

Last Sunday, S said he wanted to go look at rings together. I'm some combination of excited, scared, worried, and relieved.

It's been five years. Why do I suddenly feel like it's moving too fast?

2 spoke | speak


:: 2017 13 November :: 11.45 pm

Haunted by the following distinction: "I treat [them] like a friend, but I don't see [them] as one."

1 spoke | speak


:: 2017 14 October :: 8.18 pm

Jesus Christ, this BoJack is fucking me up

2 spoke | speak


:: 2017 29 August :: 4.01 pm
:: Mood: defiant

trying to listen to my intuition
I thought that I needed to master each lesson in turn before moving on to the next. But some lessons are absorbed over time, and you can't get the full meaning just by repeating the words until they're memorized.

I admit, I confess. But I also object, and I demand redress.

speak


:: 2017 15 August :: 9.12 pm
:: Mood: contemplative
:: Music: Explosions in the Sky

I miss working with D so fucking much.

For one thing, he was talented. Not as good as me, but he was smart, and passionate, and political, and he knew the game even better than I did. He knew what I could do, and he knew what I wanted. And for a little while, I thought I was what he wanted.

Honestly I didn't mind so much, the way that things ended in that department. But the fact that he stopped talking to me about his projects and ideas, the fact that we stopped composing and writing, that fucking killed me. I didn't care about losing a boy toy. But I really cared about losing my partner.

That's what he was to me: my creative partner. Do you know how fucking rare that is to find? Someone who likes you and shares enough of your headspace to collaborate on a project, let alone dream up a lifetime of projects?

And then he just...stopped...
...replying to emails, texts...
...and got married...


About four years ago (after we had already stopped talking, way before he got married) I was getting on a plane in the middle of some shitty weather, and I had one of those overhyped, irrational fear moments where I wondered maybe for a second if the plane might not land - that I might not come out the other side. So I pulled out my phone, literally jogging with my luggage down the terminal (because we also had like 5 minutes or something before the next plane was scheduled for takeoff), and he was the person I called with my minute to spare. Not my boyfriend, not my parents, not my best friend. I called D, and went to voicemail - and yeah, I left one of those sappy messages that's like, "... ... ..." but what could I say? I love you? I miss you? Even then, it would have been too much. So I just said something completely stupid like... "hey...I'm about to get on a plane...thinking of you..."

He told me later that he got it. But I don't know whether he "got" what I was really trying to say, behind the words, in that moment.

I never talk about him anymore, or think about him, really. But sometimes when I'm wondering why it's so hard to be creative on my own, without a structure, or a friend, I remember D. And I feel just a little bit better knowing that somewhere, a billion years ago before I got all jaded and empty, someone held my hand...and walked along with me and saw what I saw when I pointed up at the stars and said, "that looks like..." and "what if we...?"

speak

Woohu.com | Random Journal