Very nearly a year later, and not much has changed. I suppose that's part of growing up, that realization that it takes a little more time and effort than can be found in a year to really get something done. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised by that anymore. I am, but I shouldn't be. Perhaps just realizing it is as important as believing it.
I still wait tables. But on the plus side, I also help manage the restaurant, train employees. Even people spinning their wheels get somewhere lol. I figure if one year of serving in a restaurant hasn't killed me, it'll take me through college at least.
There's one place a year has gotten me, I suppose. I start school this August and hopefully should be out in three years. I'll also be joining the Air Force ROTC so that once I graduate I'll actually have something to do rather than wait some more tables.
I'm not worried about the military like so many of my peers seem to be. I was raised in a rigid home growing up. I don't feel any lack really for this fact. I wasn't even really made aware of this fact until well after high school. The military would make a very comfortable place for me. I follow rules, and have a difficult time breaking them, simply because that's how I was raised. lol I don't know of anyone else of my acquaintance who would be BETTER suited for the military. So there you go.
I stopped writing for some reason. I'm never really sure why this happens, but I will write a flurry for a few weeks and then drop whatever it is I'm working on and not touch it for nearly a year, if I touch it ever again. I work so hard these days that it's hard to have much in the way of creative output. I suppose I should try to pick that up again. Maybe it would make me feel better.
It's worth a shot at least.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Dark Waltz
Dark Waltz - Hayley Westenra. Check it out. It makes my heart smile. Broadly.
Time to get off my ass I guess. I had an epiphany yesterday. Or as my best friend calls it, I had a "beat yourself to a pulp" session. Either way, it was equally as productive.
Not like you lovely readers (readers? Where?!) really care, but my life has been an up down and all around seesaw ever since I was about 15 of being happy, waiting to be happy, and being miserable. Not necessarily all in that order.
My epiphany was that I blamed the bumps and bruises of my past for those. And while that's TRUE, I let myself be beat down by it, wallowing, in a sense. And I realized yesterday that being stronger than that is more or less an act of will. Don't get me wrong, it's a big act of will lol. But that's all that stands between me and the Mary that I want to be. Me. So it's time for Mary kicking her own butt. Because that's the only thing that's worked in the past.
Time to stop moving around the world trying to find a place my troubles can't reach me. Not this time. It's got nothing to do with where I am, and everything to do with who I let myself turn into. It makes me unhappy. I don't fault myself for it. It was a defense mechanism. But it outlasted its usefulness years ago. Time to get rid of it.
It's also time to stop smoking. That is a nasty remnant of when those times hit me really hard. I don't think I'll be able to completely get rid of my problems with that little reminder. (not to mention they're expensive as hell and horribly bad for you)
So, to anyone who reads or cares, it's a new Mary I hope. I hope I hope.
I'm better than the person I've become. Time to start acting like it.
Time to get off my ass I guess. I had an epiphany yesterday. Or as my best friend calls it, I had a "beat yourself to a pulp" session. Either way, it was equally as productive.
Not like you lovely readers (readers? Where?!) really care, but my life has been an up down and all around seesaw ever since I was about 15 of being happy, waiting to be happy, and being miserable. Not necessarily all in that order.
My epiphany was that I blamed the bumps and bruises of my past for those. And while that's TRUE, I let myself be beat down by it, wallowing, in a sense. And I realized yesterday that being stronger than that is more or less an act of will. Don't get me wrong, it's a big act of will lol. But that's all that stands between me and the Mary that I want to be. Me. So it's time for Mary kicking her own butt. Because that's the only thing that's worked in the past.
Time to stop moving around the world trying to find a place my troubles can't reach me. Not this time. It's got nothing to do with where I am, and everything to do with who I let myself turn into. It makes me unhappy. I don't fault myself for it. It was a defense mechanism. But it outlasted its usefulness years ago. Time to get rid of it.
It's also time to stop smoking. That is a nasty remnant of when those times hit me really hard. I don't think I'll be able to completely get rid of my problems with that little reminder. (not to mention they're expensive as hell and horribly bad for you)
So, to anyone who reads or cares, it's a new Mary I hope. I hope I hope.
I'm better than the person I've become. Time to start acting like it.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Paranormal or Paranoid?
So... some minor stuff has been happening in the house over the last few months, and I never really thought anything of it until it was more than like one or two instances.
Not long after my boyfriend and I moved into the house my brother lives in, funny things started happening. First, I was asleep, and the boyfriend was on the computer with the headphones on when he heard the shower turn on. That's not unusual as my brother gets in at all hours of the night. Well, after the shower appeared to be on for something like 40 minutes (much longer showers than my brother takes), he went up to check and make sure everything was ok. Well, he took off the headphones and walked out our room and realized the shower wasn't on. So he walked into the kitchen and saw that our back door was open, and the rainstorm outside was pouring into the kitchen. (Keep in mind at this time, both dogs and the cat were still inside, none raising any kind of stink about the back door, none of them running outside and playing in the rain) Being the paranoid guy that he is, he grabbed a knife and checked the entire house for an intruder. There was no one here, so he shut and locked the back door. He came back in the room and about 15 minutes later he heard what sounded like a shower, he walked back in the kitchen and tha back door was wide open. Now, that door is heavy and has a deadbolt lock. There was absolutely no way it could've been opened from the outside without a key, or breaking the window.
A few weeks after that happened, we had been watching an anime cartoon on my laptop when the battery died. So we shut down the laptop, closed it, and set it on the floor to finish watching it on the desktop. About half an hour later when I was getting ready to go to work, all the sudden we heard the anime pickup, right where we had left off on it, from the laptop which was still theoretically turned off, with a dead battery, on the floor.
Nothing else happened for awhile until yesterday morning I woke up and there was a gray case on the kitchen floor. I didn't know what it was so I figured my brother had something to do with it. Well, boyfriend and I were sitting outside smoking a cigarette, when brother came out and asked who was using the nail gun, and that it wouldn't work too well without the compressor. Apparently that gray case housed a nail gun, and was normally kept on a shelf above the washer, something like 6-7 feet off the ground. I examined the shelf and there was no way my cat could have gotten up there, for one thing, and for two, there would have been no way for her to get behind it and push it off. The dogs were again well out of range of the shelf. And had the case simply fallen the 6-7 ft to the floor, the noise would certainly have woken someone up. But the kicker comes in when I noticed the case ACROSS the kitchen floor, on the other end of the room where the washer an dryer are. Had it fallen, the noise would have been so loud it would have scared the hell out of the cat, and the dogs don't mess with anything that isn't food or a toy, so we were stumped.
I had thought that that was all that had been going on in the house until yesterday when my boyfriend and brother both had experienced walking into the kitchen at ridiculous hours of the night (3-4am) and looking at the stove, noticed one of the burners was on. Not in a way that the handle had slipped (which is unlikely, as they're difficult enough to turn anyway), but that it had been lit (you know how you have to pause a sec to wait for it to light), and then moved from there. I'd be willing to attribute this to someone forgetting to turn it off, but apparently it was on nights where no one had used the stove at all... and twice...?
Am I just paranoid or what? :/
Not long after my boyfriend and I moved into the house my brother lives in, funny things started happening. First, I was asleep, and the boyfriend was on the computer with the headphones on when he heard the shower turn on. That's not unusual as my brother gets in at all hours of the night. Well, after the shower appeared to be on for something like 40 minutes (much longer showers than my brother takes), he went up to check and make sure everything was ok. Well, he took off the headphones and walked out our room and realized the shower wasn't on. So he walked into the kitchen and saw that our back door was open, and the rainstorm outside was pouring into the kitchen. (Keep in mind at this time, both dogs and the cat were still inside, none raising any kind of stink about the back door, none of them running outside and playing in the rain) Being the paranoid guy that he is, he grabbed a knife and checked the entire house for an intruder. There was no one here, so he shut and locked the back door. He came back in the room and about 15 minutes later he heard what sounded like a shower, he walked back in the kitchen and tha back door was wide open. Now, that door is heavy and has a deadbolt lock. There was absolutely no way it could've been opened from the outside without a key, or breaking the window.
A few weeks after that happened, we had been watching an anime cartoon on my laptop when the battery died. So we shut down the laptop, closed it, and set it on the floor to finish watching it on the desktop. About half an hour later when I was getting ready to go to work, all the sudden we heard the anime pickup, right where we had left off on it, from the laptop which was still theoretically turned off, with a dead battery, on the floor.
Nothing else happened for awhile until yesterday morning I woke up and there was a gray case on the kitchen floor. I didn't know what it was so I figured my brother had something to do with it. Well, boyfriend and I were sitting outside smoking a cigarette, when brother came out and asked who was using the nail gun, and that it wouldn't work too well without the compressor. Apparently that gray case housed a nail gun, and was normally kept on a shelf above the washer, something like 6-7 feet off the ground. I examined the shelf and there was no way my cat could have gotten up there, for one thing, and for two, there would have been no way for her to get behind it and push it off. The dogs were again well out of range of the shelf. And had the case simply fallen the 6-7 ft to the floor, the noise would certainly have woken someone up. But the kicker comes in when I noticed the case ACROSS the kitchen floor, on the other end of the room where the washer an dryer are. Had it fallen, the noise would have been so loud it would have scared the hell out of the cat, and the dogs don't mess with anything that isn't food or a toy, so we were stumped.
I had thought that that was all that had been going on in the house until yesterday when my boyfriend and brother both had experienced walking into the kitchen at ridiculous hours of the night (3-4am) and looking at the stove, noticed one of the burners was on. Not in a way that the handle had slipped (which is unlikely, as they're difficult enough to turn anyway), but that it had been lit (you know how you have to pause a sec to wait for it to light), and then moved from there. I'd be willing to attribute this to someone forgetting to turn it off, but apparently it was on nights where no one had used the stove at all... and twice...?
Am I just paranoid or what? :/
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
And the days keep rolling
It's June tenth and I have managed not to do something horrible in my life that would prevent me the opportunity of typing on this lil' screen. Personally, I'm pretty impressed by that. No, my long absence is attributed to the routine in which I find myself. It isn't boring, or mundane, it's just one of those things you get into when you have a very nearly full time job.
Life is doing well for me so far. Boyfriend and I both work, come home, take care of the animals, pay the bills, play World of Warcraft, cuddle before bed, rinse, repeat. I mean yeah, the days don't really hold any surprises for me, but that's alright. They're comfortable. And comfortable is just what I needed.
Life is doing well for me so far. Boyfriend and I both work, come home, take care of the animals, pay the bills, play World of Warcraft, cuddle before bed, rinse, repeat. I mean yeah, the days don't really hold any surprises for me, but that's alright. They're comfortable. And comfortable is just what I needed.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
ZOMG WTF Employed?!
After months of sending applications in online and in person, I finally got a call. the nearby Books-a-million is shorthanded and hiring.It's not glamorous, and it's not lucrative, but it's a job. A job that will relive stresses and make life a little more comfortable.
No, I don't want to be there forever but... it's a nice place to start from.
And I really love books so... I win!
No, I don't want to be there forever but... it's a nice place to start from.
And I really love books so... I win!
Sunday, May 4, 2008
And so she sleeps. An Obituary.
And so she sleeps, my guiding, guardian angel.
Bright jade eyes slip drowsily closed as an empathetic, half-hearted smile graces her tiny lips.
A smile... her smile... that persists in sleep, as eyelashes brush cheeks, rosy and delicate.
And so she sleeps, darkening the windows to her soul,
Retreating within herself, voluntarily, willingly, though not happily.
Tiny hands desperately clutch wadded sheets, belying her calm visage.
And so... she sleeps.
And as she sleeps her eyes that lightened the world dim.
Out, but never forgotten.
Her eyes which spoke the volumes of her soul... and mine... silence.
The lips that uttered songs of angels,
spoke words to the unseen world around her,
calmed fears, tamed beasts, made a song without a melody,
are slightly parted... peaceful... and silent.
The fingers and hands that made a dreary word beautiful are still.
That clutched a pen, a paintbrush, a book, a phone.... Her tools,
Lay idle, twitching involuntarily from time to time in protest.
The chest that cradles her beating heart,
The heart that opened doors, and windows, and closets, and curtains,
and inspired people to fly from them, out them, around them, in glorious freedom,
lays quiet.
With simply the gentle rise...
...and fall...
the only indication she lives at all.
And so she sleeps... her pigtailed head nestled amongst the softest pillows I could find.
The mind that drove my world.
The artist... the writer... the poetess... the dreamer.
And so she dies to the world.
That through necessity I might ignore her.
Forget myself.
That I may live on in comfort.
The shell of the self we were.
Bright jade eyes slip drowsily closed as an empathetic, half-hearted smile graces her tiny lips.
A smile... her smile... that persists in sleep, as eyelashes brush cheeks, rosy and delicate.
And so she sleeps, darkening the windows to her soul,
Retreating within herself, voluntarily, willingly, though not happily.
Tiny hands desperately clutch wadded sheets, belying her calm visage.
And so... she sleeps.
And as she sleeps her eyes that lightened the world dim.
Out, but never forgotten.
Her eyes which spoke the volumes of her soul... and mine... silence.
The lips that uttered songs of angels,
spoke words to the unseen world around her,
calmed fears, tamed beasts, made a song without a melody,
are slightly parted... peaceful... and silent.
The fingers and hands that made a dreary word beautiful are still.
That clutched a pen, a paintbrush, a book, a phone.... Her tools,
Lay idle, twitching involuntarily from time to time in protest.
The chest that cradles her beating heart,
The heart that opened doors, and windows, and closets, and curtains,
and inspired people to fly from them, out them, around them, in glorious freedom,
lays quiet.
With simply the gentle rise...
...and fall...
the only indication she lives at all.
And so she sleeps... her pigtailed head nestled amongst the softest pillows I could find.
The mind that drove my world.
The artist... the writer... the poetess... the dreamer.
And so she dies to the world.
That through necessity I might ignore her.
Forget myself.
That I may live on in comfort.
The shell of the self we were.
And now...
Now I am blamed. I am blamed for putting the thought of seeing Boyfriend's parents for mother's day in his head, so that he called them and told them we would come, and is freaking out about NOW because he is worried we can't afford it.
It is my fault, apparently.
It is my fault, apparently.
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