hug junkie or human?

I feel like all I've done the past 5 days is sit and stare. I mean that's entirely true, but I feel so lost in my head. I feel numb. I feel very disconnected from the world. I haven't had a car since Tuesday at about 2pm when I dropped it off at Firestone, after a malfunction light came on after one of my many home visits I drive to every day. Because it's the holidays they don't get the part until tomorrow morning, which is Monday, so by the time I get it back, it will be about 6 days total. Christmas Day my Dad did pick me up and brought me to their house so I could spend it with the family (how nice of them to do so). But besides that, I've been on my own. No one to talk to face to face, or on the phone for that matter. I did share about my car troubles with the guy at the awesome little seafood joint by my house today, so it's not like I'm some kind of recluse. Just part recluse. I made it out to Walgreens Christmas eve and CVS today, Sunday, but other than that, zilch, nada. It was really cold and windy most days. I wasn't much for walking in that. At least today there was sun. I feel kind of out of it. Somehow these days at home have all run together and they went by extremely fast, despite you thinking they would go by slow, being stuck at home. Like I said, sitting and staring at nothing, steals the time from you. I did other things too, it just seems though, that I did that too often. I don't know why I did. I don't think you ever plan to get in your head or zone out, you just do. I have been texting a couple friends some, so there's that I guess. But what I really want, is a friend to hold me. Even in a friendly way. You see girls on movies or TV shows, like ones called Girls, and in a totally non-sexual way, they are looping their arm through their girl friend's arm. They're putting their head on the other's shoulder. They're even sometimes in bed in some weird cuddling sort of way. Like I said, not sexual at all, and I'm like, girls do this with their friends?? Really? What girls are these? And why did I never get friends like that? Well if I didn't growing up, I certainly won't now. Any straight friend that's a girl, would probably never express friendship and love in that kind of way with me. Not knowing what they know now. That kind of sucks. I would never ever try anything with a friend. All my girl friends are straight, I would never compromise our friendship. But I do wish we had this kind of friendship. They are portrayed on TV and movies enough times in that way, to make me feel like everyone's doing it but me. Girls have friends like that, that show each other love in that way, a friendly, non-threating, non-sexual, touchy feely way?  I once had a friend put a hand on my back and rub for like 2 seconds and I about broke down crying. Human touch is powerful. It is SO powerful. It is life changing, it is heart healing. I need a real hug and the only friend that gives really deep, long, real hugs (the same one I just mentioned), I haven't seen since my birthday. 6 months ago. That's how long it's been since I've had a real hug. I think I maybe had a few fake wimpy hugs, but I honestly couldn't tell you when or where or with who. And this friend also initiates these hugs. So that makes it 10 million times better. I hate being some needy weirdo that is asking for a hug. But look how important they are! Look how much they mean to me! I've been rambling on about them for like 10 lines now. Man, I think if I got a real hug now, I might never let that person go. I think if I am ever lucky enough to be held by someone that really likes me, either in that way, or just as a friend, well I would probably break down crying and never stop. I would finally feel released from this prison that I'm in, because, well I don't know why exactly. But somehow I guess it's my fault. Because I'm not trolling the internet or going to meet-up events that I have no interest in, it's my fault I don't have anyone to hold me. It's all my fault, I haven't found anyone that I connect with. I haven't tried hard enough. I do have friends that love me, they just don't have time for me. They just don't express love with their friends in this way. I mean why should they? They have husbands to hold them at night. They have little kids that they are always picking up and holding. Why would they make the time to just come over and hold me? I'm not saying that sarcastically or in a mean way. I'm just being honest. Why would they? That doesn't make any sense. It's not important to them, or something they've ever done with a girl that's a friend, so it probably never occurred to them. That's what girlfriends do in movies and TV, but not in real life. Or at least not in my life. You can't make friends do things that they are uncomfortable with. I remember once, I was in a really bad place and I had just started to realize that I was probably gay and I was trying to go out and do things but I found myself paralyzed with fear outside this dance club type place. Women were walking in and I was in the car flipping out. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go in. I ended up driving to Barnes and nobles and eating some cheesecake by myself instead. That didn't really help because there were all these straight couples there doing the same, which I thought was a little weird, I mean go to the actual cheesecake factory. In fact it was literally next door to this particular Barnes and Nobles. And so I went out to my car, but I couldn't drive. I was a mess, I was crying and I couldn't stop. I called a friend and I had never asked a friend this before but I was desperate and I asked her to please come over and hold me. Whether or not she truly would, I don't know. The fact is she couldn't. She was busy that night, she was out somewhere with her husband. I don't think it weirder her out, we're still friends. She was a newly wed at the time, I was at her wedding. It wasn't going to be anything fishy, I just wanted to be held while I cried. She said I should call my Mom. My Mom doesn't hold me. I can't recall her ever holding me, but I'm guessing she did as a child or I would be like one of those poor Russian orphanage kids and I'm not that bad, poor sad babies. I could barely even remember times she had ever hugged me. Of course when they left me in my dorm room freshman year, when I moved to Colorado, times like that. Even now, as I have made the conscious decision to hug my Mom and Dad (my Mom is reluctant but takes them. My Dad, responded really well and gives real hugs back and doesn't let go until I do and will kiss my cheek if I kiss his first). But even now, I still am the one to initiate every one of those hugs. I wish I wasn't. I wish I was surprised by one. I wish I turned around to leave and they pulled me into a hug, against my will even, like a child who thinks they're too old for a hug. I wish that happened. But you can't blame people for expressing love the way they express it. It might not be how you want it, but the important thing is that they give it, however it is they do. I still don't know what to do about this need that isn't being met. Sometimes it feels like I'm dying, my skin is dying. Like I'm living without sometimes basic, and thus withering away slowly. Most of the time I guess I can distract myself from it, or just try not to think about it. I guess it didn't work, or I wouldn't be talking about it now, but I don't think about it all the time, just almost all the time. I'm a junkie. A touchy-feeling junkie. That sounds weird. Hug junkie? Let's just leave drugs out of it and say I'm human. I'm a human. I need touch. that's all there is to it.

Hope for 2015...(she said sarcastically).

I don't like to write the way everyone else writes. I don't want to write about "looking back on your year." Or "ways to lose that holiday weight," or "10 New Years' Resolutions that YOU should be making." Maybe I'll never publish any of my writings, or get paid for them, but I'm okay with that. I write about my inner struggle and my pathway to self-discovery. About the ways I find happiness. Even just about how writing in and of itself, is my own form of therapy. I'm not going to look back on my year and ponder what I've accomplished. I don't have any big life events that have happened. I really haven't in years, and I'm ok with that. This is my story, not someone else's. If other people want to see the validity of their life in the partner they found to spend their time with, the kids that they had, or simply material things or big expensive trips, well then that's fine. That's them. Me, I'm happy that I'm still here, I still have my health. I'm happy that my parents are still with me on this planet. I'm happy that Mollie, my cat, hasn't run away to join the circus. I'm happy I still have my job that affords me my house and all the concerts, musicals, maybe a trip or two in the states every year. Many people have none of those things. All my friends past and present may have so much more than me, even just in terms of people that care and love them deeply and tell them or show them that on a regular basis, or just by being present in their every day lives. But more people than I've ever met or will ever know, have far less than I do, so I'm grateful for what I do have. That said, it's definitely harder during the holidays. It's a time for families, meaning children, and couples showing their love through material gifts. And also just spending time together. I wish I could spend time with my friends during the holidays, but that never happens. Jewelry commercials begin, with proof that every girl is getting that diamond ring of their dreams... and I don't even like jewelry. But I do want what it represents, true love and a promise to stay together forever. Christmas changed for me this year. It's the first year it wasn't just the 4 of us. My sister brought her fiancé and thus Christmas will never be the same ever again. Some how I managed to make it through the day. I was nice and not distant. I talked and I smiled and I didn't leave the room or put on headphones. Not once did I get to talk about me, though. Not once did anyone ask me anything about my life or what was going on with me. And I hadn't even seen my sister since May. It was all about the wedding, the bridesmaid dress, the honeymoon, the fact they might move to Belgium for 8 months. Yeah I get it, that's a lot to talk about. Like I said, I didn't say anything. I participated. I was more than just present in the room. I'm over it now. I'm back at my house, where I am safe and secure. I'm in my bubble, in my world, where I'm the most important person here. Where my cat Mollie stares at me endlessly and listens to me, for the most part, she is just a cat. But what person listens all the time anyway, right? I wish my mom would be as happy and excited for me about what's going on in my life, no matter how small, no matter if really all that's going on is something to do with my cat or my godsons (my best friends kids), as she is for my sister. All she's ever wanted is to plan a wedding and be a grandmother. I get it. I'm sorry I can't make that happen for her. I have no control over it. I wish I did. I want those things more than anything. But my sister just got lucky. She didn't search far and wide and long and hard. It just fell into her lap, like everything else in her life. I wish I could be given jewelry, a new iPhone, a Wii, a trip to Disney world, taken to Harry Potter World... I'm sure there's more but that's all I can remember right now of what's been GIVEN to her. If I want something, I have to pay for it myself. If I want to go somewhere, I have to save up and pay for it myself. I've never been given anything extravagant, any big or expensive gifts and most certainly never a trip of any kind. But that's the way it is. Again, nothing I can do about that. For some reason my lot in life is to be alone. Maybe a new city is what I need, new faces, new people. Or maybe it'll just come crashing down all around me as Colorado did for me. I'm not willing to risk it just yet. I'm not ready to give up the best place I've ever lived (the house I live in now, not the city). I'm not ready to risk what a move might do to Mollie. Would it kill her? Would she run out the door the second I opened it and I'd never see her again? This is the only home she's ever known. And while I would move in a heartbeat FOR someone I was in love with and committed to. I really don't want to move and not only lose my favorite house, but also Mollie and then discover that it was all for nothing, never finding "the one" in that new city, and maybe even falling into debt because of the cost of living being higher, which is a strong possibility in the places I would consider moving to ie: Washington or Colorado. Mountains. Why else would you move away from your comfort zone, if it didn't involve a beautiful view? At least when I lost everything in Colorado Springs, I still had that damn mountain range. That gorgeous Pikes Peak. It alone kept me there another 8 months or so. I'm a little too comfortable here. I'm not challenging myself or trying much at all anymore. I feel like I've given it my all, though. How many times do you have to fail at something before deciding to stop trying all together? Making a connection with someone is a tricky thing. You either have it or you don't. You can't force it. Some people don't even want to "give it a try." People decide all the time, based on the way you look. I'm a failure at people. That's kind of how I see it. Or maybe a failure at "dating." God, what does "dating" even mean? Is hanging out, "dating?" Or do you have to use the words, "Do you want to go out on a date with me?" for it to be an actual date. I feel like I am truly capable of talking to people, and being "normal" and saying "normal" things and being pleasant and nice and friendly and asking questions. But then why does nobody like me in that way? Why does no one want to get to know me further? I hear myself when I talk. I'm funny, I'm nice and I ask a lot about the other person, not just talk about myself. I wouldn't even say I'm that shy when it's a one on one situation. I might be a little bit, but only if I get the feeling they aren't that into me. I read people too well. I would love to meet someone who is so excited to get to know me. Someone that just wants to know everything about me. Instead I get someone who has yet to ask me a single question about my life, to get to know me in any way. And it's been more than just a couple months now, that I've known her, but anyways.  I guess I'm not attractive enough to most people. Well, I'm not changing the way I look, or improving it in any way. I have been known to wear makeup and try to fix my hair more than my usual everyday look, which isn't saying much, since I wear scrubs and a ponytail and no makeup to my job working with babies. I have enough self-esteem to say that I'm not ugly. But for whatever reason, be it the other person's crap or what have you, no one has been interested in me since George W. Bush was president... the second time, with the exception of one other person, but that's a whole other story. But anyways, these are just my contemplations, my wonderings. Questions with no answers. 2015, come on over, or don't. Does it really matter? In the words of Dwight from The Office, "that's how it goes sometimes, ya know? You lose everything and everything falls apart and eventually you die and no one remembers you." That is a very good point, Dwight. ;o) Or something more hopeful than that... I'll go with the more hopeful quote...I don't have one, but make one up and send it to me, why don't ya? ;o)

A real person

I don't feel like a real person. Let me explain. Real people have husbands or wives and in-laws that drive them crazy, but ya gotta love 'em. They have children that they get to see the wonder and awe through, at Christmas time, when everything is so magical and anything could happen. They are one half of a couple, buying their first house together or getting a dog together as a test to see if they're ready to have kids yet. Real people date. They go on eharmony or get set up on blind dates by their friends. They go out with their friends every Saturday night and paint the town, dancing at clubs, getting hit on and drinking too much. (not saying I want to do that last part, because I definitely do not). But real people live a life that is outside the walls of their house. They don't write a 65 page story of the near future where they're married to a Canadian actress that doesn't even know they exist and will never know. They don't begin writing another story, this one about their 15 year old self, but with a completely different life and situation and family. Someone who is the same person inside as they were at 15...but with a much earlier understanding of the deepest parts of themselves. A part unexplored until 31...which makes her feel like she's too late to the party. Too late to the game. The rules have already been explained, teams picked, heck the game's nearing on half-time... showing up now is pointless and you are completely lost as to what's going on. Who's gonna want this non-real person? A real person can label themselves and know it's true because they've lived it and experienced that label, not because it's how they feel inside or what they want. How can you call yourself a Mom if you have no kids?  Or a wife if you have no significant other? Or a lesbian if you've never been with a woman...
I don't think I've come out and said that before on this blog. I danced around it and eluded to it. I wrote a blog titled "my truth" and talked about it in a somewhat vague way, but I've never used that actual term. I really haven't even said it that much out loud to people. I feel like I'm not allowed to. If I haven't kissed a girl...and more (other than in my dreams or in print in my stories), than how can I say that I am? I don't say this because I'm questioning it or wondering anymore about my sexuality. I am way past that stage. It's been 2 and a half years. I know. I've felt something deep down that I never felt with the other sex. Both in movie scenes and in real life. My stomach does this flipping/butterfly fluttering/dropping thing all at the same time. I had never felt that before in my life. It's intense and it's real. It's deep down in my soul. Just because I haven't been with a girl, doesn't mean I don't know that I'm gay. And I guess right there I answered my own question. I know I'll meet girls (women. But I think most women say 'girls', but they mean women, it sounds weird I know), who will refuse to be with me in that way due to the fact I never have been with one of them before. They will say I'm just experimenting, and they have a right to say that. I'm sure they've been dumped by girlfriends who immediately go back to guys. I never landed on guys, so I'm good. No worries there. I don't have a desire for that. It was just something I was gonna suck up and do come wedding night. I was so one-track minded. Find a guy, get married and have 3 or 4 kids. Heck it's what every friend I went to school with through college, did. It's the only reference point I had. There were no other options in my mind. How could there be? What other life is there than one of being a good wife and mother? I certainly never thought I'd be here; still single at 33, after switching teams 2 and a half years ago. Can I not have one girlfriend, at the very least? Geez. The first one doesn't even have to be "the one." I honestly don't care. I just want someone that wants me, that's attracted to me, that's nice and I'm equally attracted to. We can be friends first, heck we can be only friends... as long as there's a least a little something extra. I have enough straight girlfriends who get all the extra stuff in the world with their husbands. I don't need another boring straight friend (no offense). I don't just want someone to talk to, even though that is where it should start and build from there, I'm not a one-night stand kinda girl. No way. I have to really care for this girl and really like her and really be attracted to her for all this to go down. Anyways, enough painting a picture. But this is all why I don't feel like a "real person." Real people have connections with other real people, that I just don't seem to have anymore. I don't seem to make them anymore. Maybe people have changed, maybe I have changed. I certainly do think the internet has changed people. It doesn't foster face to face interactions. Social interactions are not the same as they were even just 10 years ago. I can't even get the friends I do have for a face to face interaction. It's all text nowadays. I sound like an old person. "These kids and their texting." I am of course one of them. Texting is better than nothing, otherwise they wouldn't be in my life at all. But it's not better than seeing them and touching them and hugging them, knowing that they are really listening to you and responding to you in real time, because they are actually staring at you in the face, not just responding via text whenever they get around to it. That's so out dated now-face to face, more specifically body to body, because Skype doesn't count. And that makes me really sad for us. At least we haven't moved to a place where children are being raised by robots and you only communicate with your partner through typing, while they live in a completely different house. If this is your life, then you might need to reevaluate it.
The thing is, I do love staying inside all day with my cat and doing nothing but binge watching a show and writing all day, never getting out of my pajamas. I of course don't do this every day, but it's a pretty good day in my book. Of course I would love someone there with me binge watching Orange is the new black or Lost girl or some other hot lesbian show. I do find purpose and joy in playing with my cat and giving her love and attention, since I work all day 5 days a week and if I go out of town for a long weekend, that's even worse, because she doesn't like anyone but me. I love writing. I love escaping into a world I create for myself. I love thinking back on it throughout the day when I need to get away for a moment at my crazy job with all the crazy people. I don't want to give that up, my writing. I never will. Sometimes it's all I want to do, I just can't get enough of it. It's like when Mollie's asleep on my chest and I just can't get enough of her. I miss her. Like while she's sleeping on me, I miss her right then. I love her so much my heart feels like it'll explode. She has the weight of a baby, but she's soft and silky, which a baby is not. And she doesn't ruin the moment with a stinky diaper or grow too big to sleep on my chest. Cats are just the best. People who don't like them (and I mean as a whole) are just tunnel vision and not open minded people. Not all cats are evil. And maybe they're evil because they know you don't like them. I won't say anything bad about dogs, I won't stoop to cat-haters level. I'll just mention the dog in "UP." And that is all.
I always have trouble ending these blog posts. I don't know how to conclude. I hate summations. I also find it difficult in the stories I write. That's why I haven't ended any of them. Well that and I'm not done yet. I have so much more to say; in my stories and in life. These blogs could go on forever. That would be awesome. Me at 70, still typing these blogs... or more likely speaking into a computer and letting it do the typing. But by then I won't be saying I'm not a "real" person anymore. I'll be saying I lived a wonderful and fulfilling life, in however the pieces fell. Do what you can. Things will happen, but make of them what you will and try to always find some way to express yourself. Real people express themselves... guess I'm real after all.

Aliens and Space

This topic is completely out of my normal realm of what I always talk about on this blog. So it's not about being alone and single and how that sucks. Shocking, I know. I'll give you a moment to pick your jaw off the floor and gather yourself.

I was thinking about planets. Like the solar system and life on other planets, stuff like that. I LOVE space or in particular- alien- movies. But ironically I have no desire to see the 80s movie titled "Alien." Like all horror movies from the 70s and 80s, I saw a scene here and there in multiple horror movies like Poltergiest, The Exorcist, Alien, Nightmare on Elm street ect., due to my mom's love of them and her complete disregard that I lived in the same house as her and it was daytime and I could walk into the room at any moment in the movie. See mom? Scarred me for life. It took me 4 years to finally watch "The Walking Dead." I swore I never would, because zombies creep the hell outta me. But now I am completely hooked after one episode, and now I'm more excited for each new episode to come on TV, more than I have been about any show ever. I literally drive to my parents house every Sunday to watch in on their TV, since I don't have cable. But I love it because of the character development and incredible storylines, not the blood and gore. I don't watch horror movies that are meant to just disgust you and give you nightmares and are poorly acted and often have terrible endings, from what I hear. After I watched "The Ring" with my Dad during the daytime at home way back when, I swore those movies off forever. Creepiest movie ever. But back to aliens and space. I guess it's on my mind because tomorrow I'm going to see the newest space movie- Interstellar. Although I don't believe it has anything to do with aliens..but that could be the twist. I love thinking about what's out there. I would never want to travel to space or meet an alien face to face, but I sure love to watch movies about them. Independence Day, Men in Black, Gravity, District 9 (just to name a few off the top of my head). I love them all! Like I said, I would never want to face an alien, but it's fun to watch other people deal with them. And if I were Sandy on Gravity, I would flip the hell out and no way would I make it home like she did. (spoiler alert). Sorry, hope you already saw it.
I personally think that there are life forms on other planets. I don't think they are intelligent enough to build a spaceship with working buttons and lights and all that and fly it here, but even if they did, they couldn't breathe here. If we can't breathe in space, I think our atmosphere would crush their lungs, much like theirs crushes ours, and our faces (according to many a movie). I think literally the scariest and also realistic (if you're a astronaut), way to die would be to float around space without a tether. When the oxygen runs out, would you just fall asleep in your helmet? Or would you gasp for air and die? Not something I would want to find out. And burning up due to floating too close to the sun, well let's not discuss that! That would literally be the worst way to go, if you were still alive at that point. Wow. All things that are scary enough just watching an actor portray on the big screen... no need to experience it myself. But also why I think there is life on other planets is because, why then are there even planets to begin with? What's the point of them if no one lives on them? Maybe I should know this. Maybe I didn't pay close enough attention in science class. But I know without the sun there would be no life and without the moon there would be darkness and I think the tides would be messed up or something. But the other planets? The ones we aren't sure of what exactly is on them? What about them? Well, I think there's something there. Or some one. God didn't just make the planets for no reason. We can't even travel to most of them, which is a good thing. There's probably like some creepy creature with tentacle like arms that spits out poison onto smaller furry creatures that have razor sharp teeth... or something like that. And the dominate creatures the "people," well they speak in a language of clicks and taps and are intelligent enough to build cities with the rocks and precious metals found in their planets depths. They have their own "children" and they teach them to hunt for food and tell them that there are other planets out there with "creatures" on them as well. But none as highly involved as they are, they tell them. I guess there is "proof," aliens and spaceships exist because of all the Roswell stuff back in the 50s. So I guess some of them can fly here in spaceships. Who knows. I don't see how they have the materials on their planet to make a ship designed to come this far, but maybe I'm an ignorant human. Maybe an alien on another planet will read this blog because they have access to the internet somehow on their planet and they are saying- "you stupid human! We are smarter than your entire race put together." Well, if you are reading this, Alien sir, please do not come here and kill me. I'm just joking. You are totally capable of building a spaceship to get here and you are the ultimate intelligent race. Ok? Just don't hurt me please. Thank you. Good night and good luck.

Que sera sera

As I sit here on my rocker chair from IKEA, in my front doorway, eating my Rasin Bran with omega-3 and flaxseed and pretending it's healthy, while watching my cat sit on the wet walkway in the drizzling rain (just cuz she thinks she "has" to be outside); I ponder my boring, safe life... and the fact that I use too many run on sentences, perhaps. But mostly I think about the safe life I live. And how I've given up on "signs," thinking that seeing something random, has some kind of meaning and foreshadowing of the future. I don't believe in any of it anymore. I've seen too many signs that never led to anything, wished on too many stars and birthday candles, and prayed for far too long with nothing to show for it. Nothing happens for a reason. It just happens, or it doesn't happen. Nothing is "meant to be."  Everything is random, and nothing has meaning unless you want it to have meaning. Unless you are determined to find the meaning in it. You can find a penny on the ground and if that day you have good luck, well good for you. It was because it just happened to go that way, not because you found that penny. Fortune cookies don't foretell the future and wishes on birthday candles don't come true, unless your parents already knew you wanted that pony and got it for you for your birthday before you even blew out your candles. Once you realize that signs don't mean anything, you can just live your life however you choose to live it and stop looking for meaning in everything, stop taking signs to mean something good is coming your way very soon. You can base all your decisions on what you want to do, and if you fail, well at least you can say you tried. Or you can not try at all and just say that you didn't really want it that badly anyway. I live a pretty safe life. I'm pretty ok with that. Taking risks almost always ends in disappointment for me; I would say 9 out of 10 times. Even when I thought, "I'm glad I did go to that group thing, cuz I made a new friend!" Turns out it was just a fluke. I made a "weekend friend," or a "couple times" friend. It's cool though. I don't really need a lot of friends. I don't really need more than one or 2..or just one. And even then it's just become texting only now, but it's better than nothing.
I'm meeting a possible new friend (or more), this weekend. I say "meeting" because for the past almost 2 months now, we've only communicated through email. I don't think I'm really that nervous, this time around. Not because I'm so cool and collected and easy going about it.  And also not because I don't care. But mostly because I don't have expectations for it. I can't. I can't keep getting disappointed when I think I've made a new friend, only to discover it was more of a one-time or couple times, thing. A "one-night stand friendship", if you will. I can't have expectations anymore, for anybody. That's setting me up for disappointment. That's putting too much pressure on that person (even though they don't know it). It's too much of me "putting all my eggs in one basket" and it has to stop. I have to accept that I'm not going to have a group of friends like those portrayed on TV sitcoms with 20-30 somethings as the main group of characters. I'm just not. I don't think that's realistic. People my age don't just hang out with one group of people, all of them together all of the time. Like they're their own family. People my age have different random friends they see separately at random times. Or they have their spouse and other couple friends. Now meeting one person and starting a family and spending all your days together; that's a totally different story. That IS realistic. It's not just on a TV sitcom; it's in real life too, but anyway...
All of that's not to say I'm not a little hopeful for Saturday.  I am a little hopeful...that I have met a real friend that I can hang out with more than a couple of times. That she could possibly be something more someday. Of course I hope for that. I hope that we have chemistry and connection face to face and not just our common shared interests and our passion for good music and how it changes our life everyday. That's a big deal though. I'm passionate for my music and movies and my TV shows especially, and to find someone I can geek out over that stuff with, and not feel like a loser who doesn't have a "real" life like they do (aka a husband and kids), well that's pretty damn special to find. I'd love to find all 3 of those passions in someone someday, but we'll see.
There is something to be said about playing it safe though. (I didn't use quotation marks that time because I feel that I've reached the maximum amount of quotation marks allowed per blog, and almost about to reach my limit on parentheses). But anyways, playing it safe, staying home with my cat, is not only relaxing, but it's also easy and risk-free. And I think less chance of being killed, if you stay home. That sounds weird. Scratch that. Although technically it is true. I also get to fully charge my batteries so that when I do go out, I can make it count. And like that one time when I was mistaken for a "extrovert," something like that would never happen if I was going out all of the time and running myself down, both physically and socially. Because I am definitely not someone who feeds off of others and needs to be around a lot of people. Give me one person to listen to acoustic music at a coffee shop with or watch a movie under a blanket with, and I'll be a happy gal. I like playing it safe for now. If something really moves me and pushes me to do something. Something deep down inside me that won't leave me alone, then I'll most likely pursue it or at least look into it. But complacency isn't the worst thing in the world. Spiraling downward, chasing the rabbit down the hole, falling into a pit, those are all worst things. Setting goals and reaching them is good and all, but not something I'm into really. I like who I am, and I have grown into who I am now, naturally I think. I worked at some things I guess, but more because I was at the end of my rope and it was do something or live in hopeless depression, and enough is enough of all that. Everything is cool, everything is fine. It's alright. I feel like those are lyrics to a song, but I don' t know which one. It's kind of weird now, when I see signs. I make a conscious effort to not read into them. And now I can't even remember what they were. I think it's good for me. The less disappointment I create for myself, the better off I am. Disappointment will come naturally and out of my control anyway. I don't need to put more opportunities of it into my life. Que sera sera. Whatever will be, will be. That's how I choose to live my life. Whatever will be, will be...the future's not ours to see...(aka signs don't mean diddly squat) ;o)

this post has no title

I feel like I’m just “getting through life”, I’m just trying to get through it with minimal scarring, scraping by, sweeping up the pieces of love that fall off people as they casually walk through my life. And those very very few (ok one)person who is present the most regularly, albeit  via text or voice recording or something as lame as that, well I hoard that up, like a foster child who is afraid if they don’t save their food for later, they might regret it because it could all end at any moment. The food could stop. But the food isn’t necessarily enjoyable for them, it’s just there, it’s what they have. They have to keep it. It’s better than nothing, and what if they never get anything else ever again? I’m so fucking lonely. I am. I’m extremely lonely. Even if I say that I’m fine and I love all this time to write and I enjoy all my free time and doing what I love the most, I’m not doing what I love the most. Because what I love the most is spending time with that one person you have chosen to spend all your time with and who chooses to spend theirs with you. What I love doing the most is kissing. It’s being held, it’s holding hands, it’s all of that stuff. That’s what I love to do the most. And when you can’t do what you love the most for as long as it’s been for me, it just makes everything else in life seem pointless and miserable and stupid and boring. Everything in life is pointless if you don’t have anyone to share it with. It really is. No one can argue that, so don’t even try. Sure, you can be happy being alone and get a lot of good work done on yourself and have a wonderfully fun time and it be productive and everything, but the sabbatical has to end sometime. You can’t live like that forever. At least not healthily. You can’t. Some people need to be alone for a while, they need to think things through and figure out what they really want and it’s really good for them, but it can’t go on and on and on without an ending point. At some point you have to fall in love with someone and “settle down.” If you don’t, I just don’t know who you become. Oh yes I do. You become Ebenezer scrooge in The Christmas Carol. Ratchedy and cranky, due to not getting any, I suppose. You become Debbie downer from SNL- constantly talking about all the horrible things going on in the world, so much so, that no one wants to be around you. Thankfully I’m not either one of those people…yet. But I’m either on my way, or I’ll see an early grave, according to some article I found on Facebook, that I’m not completely sure has any medical or scientific fact to it. According to it, I am knocking off a decade of my life because I’m single for “long periods of time”. It doesn’t say what this length has to be, to them, to qualify knocking off a decade of your life, but I’m guessing they’re thinking maybe 5 years or so, so 8 is probably closer to 20 years off my life. And apparently I might as well be smoking a pack a day, because not having a lot of friends “weak social connections,” is as bad for my health as smoking a pack a day or whatever 15 cigarettes is equal too. And why 15, why not 12, or 18? Well, on the “list of 10 things that shorten your life” I have 7 of them, so that’s not really that great now is it. Oh well. I literally do not know how to do any more than I have. I can’t make people like me. I can’t make people stick around. I am who I am.  

But I’m sad, I’m not gonna lie. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this. I guess we’ll see. If God takes me, he takes me, none of us have control over that anyway (for the most part). I think if I had a lot of friends, it wouldn’t be so hard being single still. I would be out having fun with them all the time, who cares if I had someone to hold me at night? I’d have someone to laugh with and cry with. And by “friends” I mean friends like on the show Friends, or on the show Happy Endings, which is “Friends” for my age bracket and which should NOT have gotten cancelled! Don’t get me started on that. Friends who are family. You see every possible moment, and who are maybe too involved in your life, but ultimately because they care so much for you, and you for them. But anyways, I will continue to live like I have. I’m not changing anything. I’m not going to go try speed dating (if that’s even a thing for lesbians). I’m not going to do anything I don’t want to do, just for the sake of “maybe I’ll meet somebody.” Because my theory is, well why didn’t it work the last 100 times I tried it?? Why didn’t any new friend I thought I made, continued past a few hangouts? Especially since I was nothing but fun the whole time. I don’t talk like I do in my blog, in real life. No one wants to hear that. I know that, I’m not stupid. This is for me to vent and voice my thoughts, get them out before they swallow me whole. And sending them out into the void, helps me feel a little better. But I’m a fun, caring, really good listener person. I like to be funny and make jokes and be silly, make people laugh. I’m hardly serious unless they are indicating they want that. I mean clearly I would be serious if the moment warranted it, or the relationship. I’m not Chandler from Friends. I don’t cover stuff up through humor. I’m more of a Phoebe. She’s quirky and fun. She also is very passionate about things that mean a lot to her, which I love. And she’s a really great friend, she cares about each one of her friends deeply and would do anything for them. One of my favorite moment of hers was when she broke down at her birthday dinner at the restaurant- “pick up the sock!! Pick up the sock!!” All she wanted was to spend time with all her friends at a nice restaurant for a dinner, on her birthday, and instead she got friends that were late arriving, couples fighting with each other and a new mom overly worrying about her baby. I love it when she snapped. Dang it I would too. It was made even more perfect when they finally apologized and said “I’m sorry sweetie, you’re right, we are here for you and you have our full attention.” And then she gets a text from her boyfriend played by Paul Rudd, that he got off work early and she’s like “see ya” and runs off. I would love to be able to do that one day. Be like no I’m sorry I can’t hang out with you, I’ve got a date. That would be so nice. Instead I hunker down and refuse to text any more friends to hang out, until they reach out to me first and ask me, and then I’m sure I’ll jump at any chance to hang out with them. My game of chicken isn’t going too well though. I think I’ve already driven off the cliff and died in a fiery crash. Oh well. I guess Friends kinda ruined me for how I thought friendships would be like. And that you could fall in love with your best friend and get married and adopt twins together. Sounds much better than the baby coming first and then being together. Would Ross and Rachel still be together now? Maybe. Maybe for the sake of Emma. Maybe Ross stopped messing things up and grew up…I know what you’re thinking…but they were on a break!! Oh good God, ain’t TV amazing?! Thank God for it. Where else would I get unrealistic views on friendships and relationships?? I kid I kid. I know it’s not real. Lord don’t I know it. A little too well. Well it could be worse. My life could be like the show “orange is the new black.” Maybe I’d finally have a girlfriend…but I also could get shanked in the back at any time, and nobody wants that.

a "calling"

I don’t feel complete until I write. And I need to feel complete every day. What I write varies. Sometimes it’s my blog, sometimes it’s my “semi-daily musings” journal, sometimes it’s just emails to someone I’ve met online I’m writing to, and sometimes it’s my 62 pages and counting story of my life in an alternate universe. Which centers around me being loved, by the woman of my dreams, being married and a writer that can make a living off my words. I never called myself a writer. I only ever said I love to write. But one day one of my friends called me a writer, to my face. It was the first time anyone called me “ a writer.” It kind of made me puff my chest up a little, being given that title. I liked it. I always assumed you had to have published your works in some form or write a blog that thousands of people talk about on social media somewhere, or you get paid to review movies or something like that. I haven’t done any of that, and I may never will. I don’t choose to try to make all those things happen. I don’t go to workshops or seminars to “work on my craft.” I love writing and I will always do it. I don’t know if I’d say it was my calling though. All my life I thought my calling was to be a wife and mother. I still feel that that is true. Whether or not it will happen, well I have no idea. I like to think your “calling” means that you are drawn to whatever calls you, and you work hard to reach it. But most importantly, you do reach it. In the end, you will, because it was your calling. You were meant for “it.” Nothing can keep you from your calling. In the end (not the end of your life, but somewhere along the line) you will have reached that place, where you are living the life you were called to live. Not that that life is easy and perfect and happy and rainbows and unicorns all the time, but you still reached it and it feels right and you are at peace knowing you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing with your life. I don’t think I’ve reached that yet. I don’t think my calling is to help families and babies with disabilities. It’s my job, it’s even a career, I’d say, but it isn’t my calling. I like it, I may be good at it. The families may be grateful and the babies may light up and smile when they see me, but it’s not what I want to be doing with my life, ultimately, in the big picture of life. Some people’s jobs are their calling. They dedicate way more than 40 hours of their life to it, not because they have to, to keep said job, but because they want to.  They are so passionate about their work and they know that this is what they were put on this earth for. I guess in actuality, we are put on this earth for more than one reason. I guess our “calling” is only part of it. We are put here to love and be loved, to help and be helped. To change people’s lives for the better. I’m confident I’ve done that and will continue to. I don’t think you have to listen to anyone else, but yourself, when figuring out your calling. In fact I think it is better that you don’t. I think we look outwardly too much, trying to find our purpose and what we should be doing. We read stories of brave people doing amazing things and we think- “that’s what I should be doing! I found it!” We read quotes by scholars or winning authors and we say, “they got it! They have the words to spur me on to do what I was meant to do.” I’m not saying you can’t use all these things. I’m just saying I think a true calling comes from deep inside you. I think you might actually be born with it. It was deep in your soul and it gets unlocked at some point. Maybe you just know in general that your calling is to “help people” and along the way you discover what that means, from interactions and experiences in the real world. Some could say, well Christie, you just want to be a mom because it was grounded in you as a very young child to be one someday. Maybe. I honestly can’t remember anyone telling me I “had” to get married and have kids, at least not at a very young age. I definitely felt that as a teen and up. I saw what was “normal” and what all my friends did and what my mom wanted for me, but the basic “I want to be a wife and mother someday” was in me always, from the very beginning. I think I was born with it, and not something I learned. I know I always thought those 2 things went hand in hand, and even though that’s not the case for much of the population today, it still is for me. Besides beyond reasons you can’t control, I wouldn’t willingly have a child on my own. I want a partner to share in all of it with, the good the bad and the ugly. I can’t and don’t want to do it on my own. Not only because it’s extremely hard, but because I want someone there with me to be just as excited as I am that my child took his or her first steps. Friends and family can only muster up so much excitement. The person that has been with you since before that child was even born and every day since then, that’s the person that will be equally invested in that moment and all the other joyful moments, God-willing. It’s funny that in my memories of play, taking care of a baby and teaching it, was always #1 on my playlist. My “husband” was an afterthought. I think he was at work…I don’t really know. He wasn’t talked about, yet I still couldn’t fathom having a baby without one. It was a given in order to make said baby. That was the hardest part to “let go” of, when I was figuring this whole thing out with myself; coming to terms with who I really am deep down. I tiptoe around the words I use, because it’s difficult to explain it, unless you’ve lived it. I didn’t want to let go of this “normal lifestyle” that pretty much every friend I had ever made, currently was living. I wanted a baby half me and half my husband. That’s normal to want that. I also wanted the security and feeling of being taken care of, I thought only a guy could give. And also just that the world wouldn’t notice us at all. We could live so easily anywhere. That was in the first year of my self-realization, soul-searching, whatever you want to call it. I’ve since moved on from that. When you’ve written a 62+ page story that even just thinking about a scene you wrote in it, makes you break out into a huge smile; you just know that the life you’re writing about, with the girl of your dreams, is a reality that you not only want, but need. It’s a reality that is who you are deep down and nothing can change that and no one can change that. People deserve to be happy and loved, sharing their lives together as a married couple, and other people shouldn’t stand in the way of that.

So I think I got my fill of writing for today. I’m feeling completed for the day. I’m feeling hopeful and reassured that my calling is still my calling. It hasn’t changed. It’s okay it hasn’t been fulfilled yet. It will be someday. You got to tell yourself that. And in the meantime, I’ll keep on writing about it…