Tuesday DeLight:

   I have a meeting with the PIC of the Master's Program at UCCS in ten minutes.  I'm nervous that my GPA is not good enough.  And it's stupid because I'm always worried I am not good enough...  I am nervous because if I do get into the program, will it be setting me farther back from my goals?  But then I wonder, how could it, when the statistics say that on average a Master's degree gets you about 10,000 dollars more than a Bachelor's?  (Is that even accurate?)  Now I am worried I just lied and made that number up...when I swear I heard it somewhere...I'm nervous that I am just delaying the inevitable of needing a job...What if this makes me overqualified??  I am nervous that things go right, and I do get in and it does help my chances of landing a dream job, thus creating more income and the possibility of me getting my dream house and my dream furniture...
   And I'm ranting because I am so nervous...I'll tell you how it goes after... Cross you're fingers and wish on eyelashes things go right, for once.

.   .   .  

   Is it possible Life is going my way??  I do not want to jinx anything, but I just got out of that meeting and this is what I've learned: If I apply before June, which I will be applying this week,  and I get into the program,  I can take a few classes this summer and start working towards my Master's.  Basically, the program is 33 credit hours spaced over three years.  I'll have 5 core classes, to be completed over the duration, and 3-5 graduate electives to also complete (9-15 credits total).  I'll need to do 1 grad level class outside of my department (3 credits), and a maximum of 6 credit hours will be dedicated to my thesis.

   They strongly advise I take no more than 9 credit hours at a time because it is so intensive...I'm used to 21 credit hours...But I'll be hopefully getting a day job, and going to school in the evening.  I've already found 2 classes I can take over the summer, that keep me at full-time student status AND this means, I STILL GET INSURANCE!!!!!

   

   I'm so so excited. I love school. I love learning.  

   Tax returns coming soon, summer on it's way, summer jobs start this weekend, Nuggets, New York and the possibilities are once again, endless.  

   

Restless Weather:

   Today, it's going to rain.  And I'm relieved it won't be snow. This week is supposed to be summer weather.  Sundresses and tee shirts.  I'm hoping I won't be a vampire anymore.  Maybe a tan would help boost my Vitamin D and my mood....Today's weather is restless with a sneaking suspicion good things are riding on the wind.
   I have an appointment to see the people in charge, the PIC, of the Master's program at UCCS, tomorrow.  I have work on Saturday and Sunday.  Money is finally coming in, slowly, but it's being saved and hoarded for a place of my own.
   But right now the clouds are rolling in.  Deep grays and blues.  Like the Pacific without the roar and crash.  God I miss the ocean.  Being landlocked is like being stuck in a bottle.  And it's never quite right. Yes, we have mountains, but they don't move.  They don't calm me.  Waves crashing and breaking over are so soothing.  Gran gets scared and tells me it's too violent.  She prefers the stillness of the trees.  And I am jealous of her for that.
   I've been to many cities and states.  I've been to Baja, Mexico.  And each place is different.  But there's no comparison to the ocean.  I guess there's no comparison to the mountainous views here, but I'm sick of it.  I'm restless and I know it's because I want to get out of my parent's house.  And be on my own.

.   .   .

   

   I know in my heart that I'll always be a Colorado girl, but I want more. Maybe it's the clouds, heavy with rain, maybe it's the weather being so lovely.  It may just be me, I'm restless by nature.  I just know that with each day, I'm closer to getting out and living my life.  And that, makes me happy no matter what the weather is.  

   

  
 

Matches and Miracles:

... ... ...

   I don't smoke, but I'd light a match in hopes it'd float.  Up to the heavens, higher still.  Until it was the last surviving star in the night sky.  I don't believe in destiny, but I'd like to think mine's got potential.  I don't have much, but words and thoughts the flit around in my empty girl-brain.  Like birds in cages, anxiously waiting to fly.  

   I'm one to think that we have to find what makes us happy.  In Life, in Death, or anything in between. The miracles are in the mundane.  We pass them up in hopes for something greater, but we're missing the ones that will truly take our breath away.  A baby's laugh, the smell of the ocean.  Late-night drives with Kevin Devine singing lullabies.  The idea that one song can break me apart and expose my red red heart. Only to put my pieces back together.  Humpty Dumpty, but more eccentric and broken.

   And I can feel summer coming.  It's in the way the breeze carries familiar smells.  It's in the way the sunlight kisses my curtains in the morning.  It's in the tulips and irises.  Miracles that appear and make the faded winter colors fall away.  I can't wait until the summer comes.  

   

   

   

Measuring Up:

   My mom brought me back "gifts" for watching the hound from hell.

...AKA Simon...

   She bought me such cute clothes for when I do find my job, and brought these amazing measuring cups and spoons with little monsters on them, from my aunt.

 

   It was certainly a week from limbo-leaning-towards-hell, but these measuring cups and spoons made me feel a bit better.  And the clothes are darling! I can't wait to find a job to wear them to. 

   Beyond the simple things, my dad did my taxes and I GET MONEY BACK!!!!!!!  This is the first year EVER that I get a return.  I was so so stressed about owing money, stressed to tears and hair falling out in clumps.  I was so sick to my stomach about it, I didn't want to eat or spend money on gas or anything, trying to save every penny to pay...Some of you know, because I cried about my anxiety with you, but now I have about $500 dollars coming my way so I can save it and eventually get a place for myself.  A place, creatively decorated.  I can use my cookbooks and monster measurers and make dinner for my friends. 

   The idea that soon (I'm hoping by the end of the year) I can be on my own, amazes me.  Every day my dreams get closer and the butterflies in my belly make me feel like I can fly. Almost.  

   On top of all this, next month, I get to see my first Nuggets game with my dad, and I go to New York for the first time.  Both are scary and exciting. 

    I don't want to speak too soon, because Life is funny like that, but it finally feels like things are turning for the brighter, for the better.

   My heart is elated and ready to fly out of it's cage and up out of my throat, like a little red sparrow. 

   Tonight, I'm glad I have these simple things. And intricate dreams.  They are not mundane.  And for so long the mundane was the only way I knew how to validate my existence.  But I almost feel like I can look forward to the future without things going incredibly and extremely wrong.

   For so long, I looked both ways and dreaded each day. Because I knew the stress was bubbling over and ready to eat at my skin and fizz and eventually I'd be reduced to nothing.  But tonight, I feel alright. I am breathing, and living.  Cautiously still, but ever so hopeful.

   Tomorrow is a new day.  And I am going to make it worth the uphill climb, worth the fall, and most definitely worth the happiness in knowing I'm doing okay.  

Sporadic Blogging:

...I'm the creeper who takes photos while driving with my iPhone...

  The many reasons my blogging has been pitiful this week:

1.) Spring Break double housesitting.  Two needy dogs....Much driving.

2.) Snow. 

3.) Where is my inspiration when I am hating this week and weather??

4.) Movie Nights with Kaiti.  In which I forget I hate this week and actually enjoy myself.

5.) You expect me to be writing when Batscoe Returns?

I mean, come on!!! He's got a mohawk and everything!

 

.   .   .

   My parents come back tomorrow. Thank god. They can deal with this damn dog. And stop rubbing the 80 degree weather from AZ in my face while it dumps snow on me....I'll vacuum the renovation scraps from two newly decorated bathrooms... And I'll clean the canvases and puzzles my sister left out. So they don't yell at me for that mess too.  I'll smile and say I didn't need food or money for gas. Who eats these days anyway? And all the while, in my head, I'll be counting down the days until I get a job to pay for my way out.  I'll be thanking my friends for coming to my rescue and feeding me this week.  Jacob and Jen, carne asada; Kaiti, movie candy.  And for the memories we made.  Thank you. 

   Boscoe, you're too young to read, but I want you to know you're pretty much amazing like your mom and dad.   Teach Cash your Superhero ways so he can save us from life too.

   Kaiti, no respectable 20-year-old needs an effing bunk bed!!!!! I'll help you find a big girl bed for when you are out of the dorms. And I like your foot tattoo better than someone else's.  

   Basically, I'm thankful this Spring Break is coming to a close.  But what kept me going was my friends. No thanks to the bipolar weather or long distance cross country housesitting. 

After this week, work at the Mimzeeum will be back to normal. Thanks for following me on this crazy climb. 

  

Not Even the Bars Are Hiring:

   Life can be a shit-filled cupcake.  We live in a homogenized country. The music on the radio is pop heathens and pagans spitting slop only for money.  No longer to move people.  The economy is depressed and cutting itself.  Where is my job? Hmm? Not even the bars are hiring....I have no money to show for my hard work, I lose my insurance in two weeks, and I have a head cold the size of Africa. But health care has reformed and maybe it's the start of something crazy good.
   And even as stressed as I am, suppressing tears and rage and all, I find comfort in the mundane.  Because it's the only way I know how to validate my existence.  Night drives through town with my thoughts and dreams have become more comforting than Starbucks Grande Extra Hot Caramel Macchiatos.  I started journaling again.  Because there are always going to be parts of my life that cannot be blurted out across the wires.  I write lists. I job hunt. I dream. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
   I think of babies making giggles that sound like diamond chandeliers, I think of Pottery Barn furniture and color swatches to paint walls in a house I can only dream of.  I dream of a day when dreaming is reality. And my science of sleep is not so confusing anymore, but tangible.  I have to dream because it's all I have to keep me grounded in the present.
   It's the sucrose and saccharin world in which I live that's slowly killing me.  Because it isn't sweet. Cavities and fissures and high stress lead me to live in my head. And this is me not complaining.
  I'm a romantic.  I'm a cynic.  I'm a walking contradiction.  But today, I am not mad or anxious. Today I am ready and willing to take on whatever this shit-filled cup cake is going to throw at my head.

Batscoe and Cheshire Cash:

...fruitsnack mustaches and elbow rockaway dances...

   Spiderman and Chris Brown have nothing on these boys.  It may be my objective opinion, but it's safe to say these are the silliest boys in the world.  Not to forget, the cutest.  Personality drips from their already drippy noses...

  I'm going to have to get a video clip of what I am about to tell you, because you may not believe it, but Cash is a bona fide hustler. I've witnessed the single most amazing dance performance EVER, created by him.  I call it "The Elbow Rockaway."  I foresee it being the next big thing in rap videos.  Move over scantily clad, big-butted girls, the elbows are coming. 

Bramble Rambles:

  I woke up this morning and watched the sun rise through my bathroom window, as I did my hair in preparation for a biopsy.  I watched fluorescent lights more intensely than ever before, swearing they are as bright as the sun, as the doctor and her assistant poked around for samples.  I stepped foot on campus soil for the first time in three months and felt like a foreigner.  I came home and felt like I had been gone for years.
  To say today has been weird, may be an understatement.
  
  The doctor explained there are four stages of infection, and the first stage is just mild.  The there is carcinoma en suite 1. Also very mild and nothing scary.  But carcinoma en suite 2 and 3 are the scary cancers.  Today's exam leaves me with some anxiety, but my doctor said I looked okay.  Breathe.

  UCCS bureaucrats enjoy passing my questions on to other people, or simply send me links to figure things out on my own.  Both paths suck.  So I have no news on that front.

  Basically I am rambling.

  I did get some pictures of pretty dead and dormant things for you to contemplate. Because I like spindly twisted and bare trees. Remember? Skeletal structures of small things. Indeed.

 

Breathe:

...It will be alright...

   The day after all my anxiety nearly boiled over has been uneventful. I cleaned Aristotle's tank. I unloaded the dishwasher.  I breathed.

   Because I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.  Good or bad, it was meant to be like this. I had an extremely hard time, yesterday, with this concept. And it's what I've lived by for my whole existence. I get too focused and forget to see the bigger side of things.  I am a little blind mouse trying to decipher a pillar from an elephant's leg. When really I should be trying to take in the whole elephant, not just one piece.   

   I am proud of myself for graduating college in 3 1/2 years. I am proud I even went. As for a job, there's one out there made for me. I just need to go get it. As for the medical abnormalities, well, I'm getting microscoped and biopsied on Monday. And, come what may. I was given these hurtles and tasks because they are mine to bare. Because I can handle each one, with creativity and some amount of grace....not much grace, but some....There's a reason to this madness I'm calling my life, and I have to live it to find the answers. 

   With the help of my friends, Kevin Devine, and Starbucks grande extra hot caramel macchiatos, I can handle it.  I have to.  

   

When Real Life Happens:

   My diploma just came in the mail. Three months after I actually graduated college, I now have a single piece of paper that says I completed school....A single sheet of shit and a ton of debt. I don't feel anything. I should be happy and feel accomplished and I feel nothing. 

   I've got so much else on my mind, and today has truly been a dark day at the Mimzeeum. I've found out I did not get either of two jobs I've applied for....I found out some girlie tests came back abnormal and now must go get further testing to rule out cancer, no STDs though, so I have that going for me.... My mother's birthday is in two days and I have no money to get her anything. And what is worse, is I don't even know her likes and dislikes when it comes to frivolous trinkets.  I don't even know my own gosh darned mother. Let alone myself. But still. It's a painful and harsh realization to finally be hit with.

   And so now you see why this stupid diploma means nothing. Because it came three months after the actual ceremonies and life happened.  The loans I took out are coming to collect, I'll owe for taxes that I have not filed yet, And how shall I pay for any of this when I DON'T HAVE AN EFFING JOB???????

   And they wonder why I have anxiety and depression? As far as I am concerned, Life can suck it.  

   I know, I know, I've been waxing poetic about positive outlooks and changing who I am, but today it's not happening.  Because there's a point when I've been pushed past positive thinking and all I feel is anger and then residual nothingness.  My degree was literally in Professional Bullshitting anyway.  It's not valiant or helpful to anyone. My parents were right when they said I was an underachiever....And now I have to some how pull thousands of dollars out of my butt and give it back, for learning how to BS.....on top of medical testing and birthday anxiety. Yeah. Today is great....

Good Morning:

   I cannot turn my head off, and the thoughts that flit inside. So I am awake, even though I've taken my meds.  I can feel my body slowly getting tired. By slowly, though, I mean at a glacial pace....

   I've decided in this late hour, that besides blogging, mothering, and wifing, another dream job of mine would be to sincerely and lovingly respond to some famous person's fan mail.  I could be that girl who just writes letters to fans all day. I'd be good at it. But I'd be better at mothering and wifing. Yes they are verbs.

   The medicine is kicking in, and I am having a hard time remembering what I am saying, even when I reread it, it all looks like the Autobot language to me now.  I'll write better after a drug-induced 8 hour coma I just started to put myself in.....

Nature's Polka Dots:

   I am sorry that I've not been writing. I haven't had a lot of inspiration. My boots are heavy, you see.  And it makes life hard to trudge through.  It seems that I can only hold onto things that I want to lose.  The dragonflies that flutter and flit and make my thoughts mobile in my mind have been out of orbit or something.
  I've been applying for many jobs. And educating myself on the science of sleep. Of what dreams may come.  Time passes slowly, like a single grain of sand. I render myself anew.   It is two steps forward and one step back. But I'm getting there.
  Today, I went out looking for inspiration, or any sign of life in the stagnant and still winter. Like it is holding it's breath, because something big is coming. I found these dead flowers and dried tomatoes.                   
  And I realized, that the faded summer colors are still beautiful and I'm in love with skeletal structures of little things.  

  Time is stretching itself in preparation for the future.
  And I am willing to bet, that in the coming weeks, my life will be less like the sleeping winter colors and more like summer sunsets.
 

But I am rambling.

  I am trying to be more positive. Because I've decided that there's nothing wrong with not understanding myself, completely. It's what we are supposed to learn throughout our time here.  And this is one lesson I'm willing to try.
  I can't wait until the summer comes. Not so much for the heat, I hate the heat. But I want color and natural polka dots.  I want something new. I want my life to wake up and be glorious like sunsets.  And I am going to make that happen.

.....:

   It is clear to me that I continue to fuck up every day. (Sorry Gran, I had to cuss)  I let my mom pull out of the driveway first and gave her ample time to drive off before I began to reverse. I was just about to check my right back side, when this HONK scares me. Of course, mom hasn't left yet. It takes the woman ten minutes to get out of any parking spot in her giant 4 runner. But I feel like an epic failure because I should have checked.
   I should have done a lot of things, that my parents ask me to do and I honestly forget. I'm sorry. My mind is stressing beyond your comprehension about money and debt and I can't fit any more in there.  They treat me like a child, but it's probably for the best since I can't even back out of the driveway right.
   UGH!!!! I feel like crying. I feel like driving and not coming home. I feel like shit. (Again, Sorry Gran).
   Why do I keep messing things up for my family, when they are stressed and don't need me to add stupidity and anxiety to the mix!?!?!


Moral of the story: I suck, once again. No wonder we're not that close anymore.

Insomnia:

   So, on top of my severe anxiety and OCD, I was also diagnosed with severe insomnia because my sleep pattern, is well, non existent. I was up for 52 hours straight a week ago because I wasn't tired.  Then, I'll turn around and sleep from 9-11 in the morning and be fine for another two days....On a "normal" night, I'll be up until at least 4.  And only fake or half-sleep until 9.  My brain is lying to my eyelids, saying that I really am asleep when my eyelids and the rest of my body know, the sleep I am getting is a lie. It's like faking with your eyes closed so no one bothers you because they THINK your asleep..... . . .. . ... . . . . ...I hear everything. I hear the house settling and the hot water heater kicking on, I hear the pipes aching in the walls and I hear my parents wake up at 5.  

   And just as you think I am complaining, yet again, you'd be proud to know, that while I am awake, I am job hunting.....yes. At 3 in the morning.  Funny right? Not the only thing.

  Because the medicine I've been given, cracks me up!!!! It comes in this blue case like a birth control pack. And I guess the pills hate light and want to sleep in their little BC pack, because there's a warning on the label that tells me to keep the case in the dark.  

   And to remind you, I'm taking this medicine for INSOMNIA, but there is a red warning that says this medicine may cause drowsiness....NO DUH!!!!!!!!

Tonight I'll be watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch.  That's really it for me. good night lovelies. 

  

Ear Muffs And....:

...I'm coming back to myself...

   I woke up this morning, feeling like there was anxiety on the other side of my closed eyelids. But I've been working on myself. More than you'll ever know.  I am done keeping secrets from myself. I am done being scared of the positive and kind things people tell me. I am done harboring the negative. 

   It feels foreign, coming back to myself. For so long I haven't let myself be.  I've been nightmarishly hard on myself, and my esteem plummeted, but I can't live like that anymore. It's literally killing me from the inside out...So I am improving things.

   I'm still mortified about taxes and loan debt, about love and hurting anyone...But I've been getting by, with the help of my amazing friends that I don't thank enough... As Kaiti says, "Those are the best kinds. The ones who don't expect you to be whole.  The ones who know you're never going to walk in straight lines when you're wearing new boots and need to walk in zigzags."  

   My friends know my zigzags, and love them for what they are...My friends are the greatest.

   I'm morphing my anxiety and making it something beautiful.  And it is the hardest thing I've attempted thus far. But it feels better, when I try and find the silver lining. 

   To Danielle, I know you're reading this. Thank you. You're love and support have gotten me through so much, and I hope, I can reciprocate and show you the same.

   To Kaiti, we can be broken and eccentric. Because there are not many of our kind. We are a rare species and it scares a lot of people. But thank you for being one of my kind and understanding me and reading this as well.

   To that boy. Yes, you. I swear I was dead before I knew you, they pronounced it so. But I heard you call my name, and I couldn't let go. 

   To EVERYONE who reads this blog and follows me on life's climb: I am not perfect. I am small and random. I am probably blogging in vain hope that one day it will be read by the world over. But I am so thankful for all of you. For curious strangers and supportive friends. Cheers dear readers! 

   

Spoon Doctor:

   This morning, TommyBug and I played choo choos. But we had to sit there and make sure every single gosh darned choo choo had a sex, before they could get on the track and drive off. We have over 50 trains, PS, and some of them are just trains, not girls or boys, but he insisted...."Da Polar Express choo choo is a boy, Miss Sayiah. Betause he is bwoo." I didn't mind the logic behind that......"And Wosie (Rosie) is a girl, wike you Miss Saiyah.....Betause she is pink and wavender." "And da twack (the track) is.....is....da twack is big..."
   Everything is a boy or girl now.  It was pretty fun to build the train track and watch Tommy totally fall in love with his trains and tracks again. He was so excited, when Dora came on, he didn't even look up. (THANK GOD)

   Then my afternoon got even more interesting. 

   Getting Boscoe to eat is never boring. Some day's he's a little bird eating Ramen worm noodles, and others...well, we are doctors and the spoons are broken. And the only way to fix them is to TING TING TING them very gently on the table and put them in an applesauce bath. "Heps poons fee beddo" (It helps the spoons feel better), according to Boscoe. Then, he has to eat the bath very fast.  And Cash imitates the TING TING TING noise and smiles. And it makes even the pickiest of eaters adorable. With applesauce in their hair and home-made mac and cheese on their "nodes."

I love kids. Moral of this story.

Love:

   I'm tired of LOVE. It's fantasy.  Hollywood and Hallmark vomit.  Putrescence and danger mixed into one big storm. Love has the ability to crack ribs wide away, exposing the red red heart.

   Love is not candy hearts and roses. Love is not sweet and soft. Love is a veritable tornado, strong enough to tear through the jungles of India, ripping up palm trees and tigers.

Image Take From:

   It is a waterfall of misery. Love doesn't slow down as it blasts the deserts and sends scorpions sky high.
  It doesn't abate, but transforms into a class five hurricane, swirling whales and fishes round and round. It shifts the shorelines permanently.
  Love takes everything we've ever thought about it, and shreds those ideas to bits. Millions of little pieces. Love then burns new ideas and feelings into the backsides of our hearts and eyelids. Love is not pure or innocent. It's a monster with a vengeance. Love is dangerous and disastrous.

.......But I am weak, and have a masochistic desire for Love to crack my ribs,  and throw sand in my eyes. I'd enjoy tigers falling out of the sky and landing in an angry heap at my feet, if it meant Love had altered my mind's coastlines and forests and heart permanently.  Love would probably kill me if it had the chance....

   ...I am not afraid to die. But I'm scared to death of Love...