Pass?

I took today off to study. In the midst of said studying at Starbucks with my quad grande nonfat, no-so-hot, carmel macchiato I decided to calculate my grade in anatomy thus far to see exactly how many points I need to pass the class. It turns out that I currently have 197 points out of 265 for the class, which if I calculate correctly puts me at a 74% before I even take the final exam. Can that be right? Can it? I think it is! What the fuck was I worrying about? I pass! I pass! Plus, I sort of get the stuff for the final... no, I will fail the lab final but the rest ain't to bad. I may even bet a B in the class. Fuck me. Is my math off? It's got to be. Whatever. I just got back from an 8 mile run. My grandpa is fine and doing well. I have a date to get ready for. I'm feeling awesome today. I pass! I pass!

fiction

I just completed my The Brief and Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao. It is the first piece of fiction that I have finished in a very long time. In fact, I can't remember finishing anything since the split up. Maybe I did in Hawaii but I don't think so.I know I tried over Christmas but I believe it was a flop. Finally, even with tons of school pressure, I have done it. Sure, it was only 335 pages but it still took time, energy, and focus -- 3 things that I find myself lacking most days. On page 327 the tears came. The cries are horribly strange these days. They feel so enveloping from deep to surface. The deep feels normal but the surface is so odd. The sound is annoying and the quick shakes so unlike what short cries used to be. It comes so fast and so easy. And then I push it away. Usually it leaves this aching in my left arm. It actually goes all the way down the left side of my back, if I really think about it. But I also feel it radiating and a strange ache around my ulna. Listen to me try to practice my anatomy. Anyway, it was a good book. It was not mind blowing, life altering, or anything. It was funny at times, sad a lot of the time. At the heart of it, it is for sure a story of family, a story of culture, a story about love. Isn't that what it always boils down to anyway?

I'm exhausted now and I have a long day of studying ahead. I hope I can sleep and I don't begin seeing faceless men and the Mongoose. Sometimes I think I would actually better off, though. Sometimes it feels like my life is would at the very least be more interesting and poignant if it had a few more elements of good fiction.

cycle of life.

There's a lot of sickness and death in the air. My Grandpa had potassium toxicity and and suffered from a mild stroke. When it first happened, yesterdy, my Mom sent me a text that said, "this is a matter of life and death." It actually wasn't. I fucking hate that. I understand the tendency to overreact and freak a bit, but I do not understand trying to freak everyone else out. Luckily I know her well enough to not drop everything and go running. 

Still, knowing that my one remaining grandparent is this ill does feel quite odd. My Bubby, his wife, died almost 16 years ago. My other Grandpa I never knew and my other Grandma died... hmm, I don't really remember but it too was a long time ago. My Grandpa is lonely. He's lost most everyone. But he is an ornery, funny, old Jewish man. He has always adored me. I adore him. How will I feel if he passes some time soon? I will feel sad, of course. And yet, I am happy that I have had so much time with him and that he has lived such an interesting life and on and on. Sure, I sort of wish I could prove to him that I'm living a happy life. I know the deterioration of his family weighs heavily on him. But overall, it's all ok.

That brings me to this rampant fear of death that is so pervasive. When I say that I am not afraid of it and I think we should celebrate lives, people  call me morbid. I think they are the morbid ones, thinking that death is something so horrific. It's a natural progression. Everything lives and dies and cycles. We need to stop being such fearful creatures.

On a happier note, I am wearing orange shoes and I gave in and am going on another date tomorrow. I know, I know. How did this happen? Well, the shoes were on sale a few months ago and at first they hurt but my feet seem to being much better. I even ran another 6 miles this morning (fueled by a donut binge yesterday). Oh, the date. Well, this guy emailed me from one of the paid dating sites that I had been ignoring. He seemed nice: divorced, a little bit older than me, into food, a brewer, good job. So we started chatting... mostly about food and drinks. What can a little dinner and booze at The Happy Gnome hurt? At the very least I will get something good to drink and I think we are both mature and laid back enough to just shrug it off and be cool if there's no real connection. God, let's hope this isn't some horribly misguided judgement. I don't think it can be, but then again I've been wrong a multitude of times. What do you think, skirt or jeans? Orange shoes or black sandals? 

I need some music to finish up this day. I have tomorrow off and I'm getting antsy.

shut it

I'm trying to relax and eat my lunch and these people are driving me god damn batty. There's a baby in here and they're all full of gross little baby talk. Ew. Driving me nuts today. So what, it's a baby. Sure, I like babies fine enough, but I hate how others are around them. Seriously, let me eat in peace. This is my work space and I DO NOT appreciate your loud chatty crap. Shut it!

mile after mile

Since I was last here I ran 13 miles and did a little 40 minute bike ride. 7.5 miles and the biking were last night. And then I got up this morning at 4:45 and went for another run. Yep, my body is feeling good. There's some pain in the knees and IT band but not too shabby. It helps to run on the gravel, although this morning it was all pavement. God, the pavement sucks, especially when it's hilly and full of cracks and divits. I need to move. Although, I would hate to give up the Luce Line. And I just realized yesterday that the band I've been listening to lately is called Luce and I love running on the Luce Line... just coincidence? I need to research their cosmic connection. So that's it for me. I have a nutrition final tonight and a massage therapy written final tomorrow. It's all studying and running and listening to music. I've also been downing the coffee like there's no tomorrow. But no smokes since last Monday. I'm still fighting off those urges and as well as my sugar cravings but so far, so good. I even resisted massive peanut butter cups. I did have a tiny, teeny slice -- just barely enough to coat my tongue. And now I need to get back to work and stop daydreaming. It' funny how easy it is for me to get swept up into this running thing. Once again I'm dreaming of half marathons and spending days upon days in the woods -- running, swimming, and eating steaks over a fire. I have some time in August to be lazy. I'm debating what to do. Do I rent a cabin or do I fly off to some far off land? It's going to be a loner trip which I've never done, so any and all suggestions are more than welcome.

another week.

It's strange how seeing Brian energized me and gave me some sort of hope for my life alone. I feel like I can make it another week. I rode my bike for 2 hours yesterday. I cooked up a bunch of food to graze on for the week. I think it was the first time I made pasta since I moved out. I didn't get that much school work done but I really don't care. It felt good. Tonight I would like to do something else fun -- maybe go see a movie or go dancing. I won't do either but I like to think that if I really wanted to, I could, I would. I can dream of days when that will all be possible. We were just discussing the owning of dogs. I wonder if someday I will own a dog. That reminds me of this cute little song by Luce:

I had a dream, it was a good dream
you were there and so was I
we were so happy
I did not want to open up my eyes
and we were driving down a road
it was a long one
there were signs all over saying
the signs said "welcome to your life"
I looked over and you were smiling
you had a great big smile going
you turned to me, you turned and you said
"all your life, all your life, I got your back"

so if you want to try
we'll make it you and I
we'll never be alone
we'll buy a dog and bring him home
he'll jump up on the bed
we'll be the best of friends
I think that we should try
I picture you and I...

I had another dream
I know you think, "how convenient"
but I swear it's the truth
we were there, yeah, I was me and you were you,
we had a good long life on this planet
when we died we went to heaven,
saw that god was really Elvis!
anyway, our souls were in the right place
our souls were in the right place..

so if you want to try
we'll make it you and I
we'll never be alone
we'll buy a dog and bring him home
he'll jump up on the bed
we'll be the best of friends
I think that we should try
I think that we should try

and we'll take him on walks with us everyday
(underneath the summer sun)
he can ride in the back of our car when we go away
with his head outside of the window frame
and his tongue out

it's a miracle that we're even here and alive
let's buy a dog and bring him home. 

I make a return.

I still have not smoked. I ran another 8 full miles in the heat of the day yesterday. Can you believe it? I've got my legs back. And during those runs I felt slightly happy. I think I may have cracked a smile. It is the BEST feeling I've had in ages -- to just run and run and run like that. Of course near the end I get filled with piss and fight when I realize there is no bbq or dinner of friends or anything to return to. But alas, I have those 80-90 minutes of joy. Welcome back. Oh, I also went to the beach to study and did a little kayaking. Glorious welcome back.

Last night the loneliness built up and was too much. I needed to see my cats or maybe it was an excuse to see Brian... or maybe I just wanted to feel a little more myself. I spent a couple hours at the house. We watched some Weeds and ate some chips and salsa. Of course we fucking cried and talked too much and I did some goofy dancing and goofy faces and lots of goof. That's fucking me. And that's especially me when I'm with the right sorts of people. God, it was draining and exhausting and sad, but also so very good to feel like I didn't have to try or be quiet or be proper or be funny or be anything but what I was feeling and thinking and desiring. And that is what you miss when you lose your best friend. I miss being that person and I miss him.

Today I will study and play outside and feel ok. I will want that smoke again. I will refuse. I will have a few sips of wine and some weird combo of food. I will feel lonely but for the first time in a long time, I will smile because it's not often that you get any sort of comeback -- even if it was for only one day.

Fucking Saturday Morning (in July)

It's the kind of morning where you sort of just want to sip coffee and smile out at the water. It's like fucking vacation. You sort of just wish you could wake up, have a good fuck, and then sip your coffee. Not that I know what that's like, but singledom makes you think those things would be oh so very glorious. I just got my computer set up on my deck and I should start studying. But I have 2 things to talk about first, besides the glorious fucking weather.

1. I have always wanted to go to school for anthropology and I am totally going through the ups and downs of wondering how wrong I am to be doing massage. But maybe it's not so wrong. How can you go wrong with a massage degree under your belt. It's a great supplemental career if nothing else. But 13K for this. And all this work that does not fit with my experience or talents. I'm feeling discouraged. It's going to be really damn hard to study for anatomy even though it's all on the god damn line and I hate failure. But failing by choice seems easier to take than failing because I'm an idiot.

2. I had the most vivid dream and it is still right there in the forefront of my mind. I dreamt that Gina, the other woman, and I were riding in a car and I was about to give her a massage. She touched my back in a soothing way. I was like, what the fuck man. "It's bad enough that we're going through this shit, please don't condescend me with your touch." She went ballistic and told me she had done me a god damn favor. Was I too stupid to see that this was a problem with me and my marriage. B had been unfaithful before. I slumped angry and sad in the car. Brian's Mom was there and she tilted her seat back and just sat there and said something like, "come on now girls."

One more thing. Last night I made a big salad and read some school stuff while drinking wine. I then watched "Rachel Getting Married. Wow, what a horribly sad movie. Why do I surround myself in these things? Right now I'm listening to the Swell Season. Sad. Next I will listen to Fun. Yes, Fun. is the name of a band -- period and all. It's the same guy who was in The Format. It reminds me of Brian, even though it was MY god damn music. I will leave you with some Fun. and I will go study. That was enough venting for a glorious July morning where I wish I could be fucking  (I become a crasser, bitter old bag with every moment,).

Be Calm by Fun. Fabulous. Fabulous. Fabulous. Quintessential.

New Regimen Today

I totally forgot I was going to start anew today, until just this very moment. I sort of cheated. I ate M&M's for breakfast. I don't know why, jeez. I just get obsessed with food and can't control myself. It's a control issue. I get it. However, I felt guilty so the rest of the day I had a handful of carrots and a non-fat, no sugar late'. In addition, I just got back from an eight mile run. Yes, I said it. 8 fucking miles. Take that, motherfuckin' mind and body. Oh, and after the run, I rode my bike for a good 50 minutes. So yeah, regimen is fucking on. I can do this shit. I can. If I fail school, I don't really give a damn, because this, THIS drives me -- gives me SOMETHING to get out of bed for. Fuck everything else. My regimen is my purpose, my baby. It must survive.

Why bring me down?

Why does the sun bring me so down, so low, on this  Friday in July. It reminds me of an Avett Brothers song, "I was 16 in July. The summer to my left. And no one to my right." This may very well be the first time since I was 16 where there is no one to my right.  That ought to fucking do it -- make the sun seem a little less worth enjoying. I want to enjoy it -- let it dance about my face and eyes. I want to feel in the day, in this body ok. I want to feel in this life, feet in, pushed hard against the ground. i want to feel alive and feel free for all that's ahead. But instead I am drifting, sinking, getting swallowed away. I look at my scars and listen to the ugliness of my voice and I am frightened. I heard children at play and parents screaming as the balls were kicked across a freshly cut lawn. I wanted to crawl up on the bleachers and feel what that feels like. I have a hard time believing that I will ever know what that feels like. I want to go home. I'm afraid to go home. For several years now, for far too long, I've been growing alone. Where did we go? Where have I gone? Why is it that I still love you? I hate July.

Regimen starts Friday.

I saw the doc yesterday. He gave me a prescription for shoe inserts. I have to go back today to have them fitted. He also suggested that I see a surgeon to discuss options but he sort of blew off the pain like I should just live with not being able to wear most shoes. He said something like, "well, so you won't be able to dress up and wear pumps." It was horribly condescending. And that he told me maybe I should try to the elliptical instead of running. Ugh. Not that I want surgery, damn it. I just want to control the stupid swelling and pain.

I went for a short bike ride last night and got up this morning and ran, after 2 days of NOTHING. It felt good. I've been coughing and sick but somehow the running feels like it makes everything better, despite the painful foot and despite the fact that I'm terribly out of shape right now. I know that I need to quit smoking if I am ever to get back into the shape that makes me feel healthy and desirable. I need to quit smoking. I've fallen back into its comfort embrace. It's become my cherished friend again. In truth it's the kind of friend that appears beautiful and loving but it is silently smothering and destroying everything else that is loved and good about life. I want to quit it but I'm not sure that I have enough to replace it.

I need to quit for running, for biking, for lifting, for self image and for self preservation. Is that enough reason? Maybe I should just force myself to sign up for a 10K and to do everything else to support that. Re-shift focus. Focus. Damn that's hard right now. But I just want to be able to run a good 10K easily again. Is that so much to ask? Is it? Grrrr. I can do this. New regimen starts, ummm. Friday. Yeah, Friday. Don't judge.

Oscar

My body feels like it has aged 20 years in the past 6 months. My soul continues to feel like it has lost.. I am reading the Brief and Wondorous Life of Oscar Wao and I love Oscar. I think Oscar and I could have been friends. When he threw himself at the train, I broke out in a storm of tears. And in his failure, the tears rushed even harder. Oscar and I understand the feeling of being broken -- the feeling of desire. We understand the ultimate crushing feeling of failure and loneliness. I never knew that I was this type of person. I wouldn't call myself co-dependent per se. I do not need someone to be at my beck and call, to spend each moment with me. And yet, I crave and ache for the moment I get to run my hands through someone's hair or nestle my head in their neck even if it's not for love. Is that so wrong?

FML

I can't focus. 2 posts in the matter of hours, you know I'm getting nothing good done. I have 2 things on my mind: feet and shelter.

Feet. My feet are an obnoxiously disgusting mess. On top of my possible rigid, arthritic toe, I have an huge red and tender popped blister right along the side of the side of the same foot. I'm wondering if there is a correlation. In addition, my right foot, which I punctured almost 2 weeks ago now, is so tender that when I run it burns and burns. I hate my feet. I am ready to chop them off.

Shelter. My lease is up at the end of August and I did not renew. What the fuck was I thinking? Sure, I can move back in with my friends and save loads of money. However, that means I need a place to store my stuff. That also means that I will lose my bathtub, kitchen, and privacy. That also means, I will be somewhat like a child returning to the nest. Gross. But where else will I go? I could beg some others to be my roommate, but honestly I don't want to live with them. I just want to be alone somewhere quiet and beautiful. Maybe in St. Paul. Maybe in Minneapolis. Maybe in Hawaii. 

By the way, I believe that I should win the FML award. Seriously, FML.

relaxation, rejuvenation, and such

Last night I ran, biked, and relaxed. I read. I cooked cous cous with roasted beets (yummy). I went to bed early. It was a healthy evening -- a much needed evening. I'm still feeling a bit tired, but better. Yes, better. It's a sticky, hot Friday. I like it sticky hot. Call me crazy but it makes me feel alive. If only I wasn't shackled to this cubicle until 3:30. I'm trying to think of ways that I could convince my boss that it would make much more sense for me to create reports from the comfort of a deck somewhere. And with a margarita. Yes, that would make me far more productive. She's not going to buy it. Days like this make me want fish tacos and margaritas. I would like to make some guacamole. I have no one to make guacamole for. Maybe I will make it for my co-workers. That could work. 

Did I mention that I am taking a dating hiatus? It was depressing the hell out of me. I don't want that pressure of meeting someone and having nothing to talk about. If it's going to happen for me, hopefully it will happen organically because right now I have a sour feeling about online dating. It's fucking ridiculous. Ok, so it works for some people. But it does not work for the awkward, freckled, freakish among us. 

When I was out biking yesterday I noticed that several older, slightly chubby bikers waved at me. Maybe those are the guys I should be dating. Or maybe I should not be dating at all right now. I'm starting to get curious about this whole casual relationship thing. I just don't know that I have the personality to pull it off. I'm sort of fiercely dedicated and loyal... Casual is hard. Then again, it sure would be nice to have no real pressure at this point in my life. It would be nice to find the fun, not-so-serious side of me.

The 2 young guys that I was chatting with are all over me. It's flattering so I let them continue to pummel me with messages -- texts, IM's, phone calls. And yet, I feel cruel. Should I feel cruel when I've tried to be upfront about my situation? And that there is why I suck at dating. I know the answer. I know what I should do, and yet I don't do it. 

Anyway, it is Friday and I'm glad. My only real plans for the weekend are giving and receiving massages. That should be good. After I get mine, I am planning a few hours of drinking water, crying, and sleeping. That's just the way it works. The rest of the weekend, I will try to get some studying done and hopefully get out on a kayak. I have not done that in the cities at all this summer. I think I need to find the time. I need to find ways to fit in rejuvenation whenever possible so that I don't drive myself into sickness. My stomach has been aching and bloated for about 5 days now and I can't help but think it's from stress. I was just reading that stress can kick-start Celiac disease. Not that I think that's going to happen but it made me nervous for a second. That would be the last straw... no cake, horrendous!

sick

I had a massage last night that made me sick to my stomach. I was so nauseous and exhausted I could barely make my way around the apartment. I woke up every couple of hours feeling wretched. This morning I got up super early to straighten my apartment because they need to inspect it or something. It was a struggle to move. My body still aches but it's nothing compared to my mind. I feel like I'm sinking. I can barely sit at this computer without my eyes just instantaneously watering up. I'm not sure why I'm back in this place. It almost feels like the worst of it is back. People want to tell me about the good things or worries in their lives and all I can think is, "look at me god damn it, do you think I have the strength to hear that? Look at my fucking insignificant, piece of shit life?" It is over-exaggerating and self-pity of the worst kind, I know. I just can't help it right now. I feel like I have my hand is stuck on some trigger that is causing an avalanche. Everything is crumbling around me and each little pebble and chunk of clay is pegging me. I'm feeling each sharp edge as they cut deep into my skin. I feel the air slowly constricting making my throat dry and my eyes ache. I am in control and yet I do nothing. I am so very tired.

Luckily, I'm a logical get-it-done sort of person. As B put it, I can easily compartmentalize. So right now, I just need to compartmentalize this feeling and put it in a tiny little box somewhere until I have more time to fully deal with its contents. For right now, I need to work and study and take advantage of no school. I think I could use a long night at the gym followed by lots of sleep. It's been too long.

INTJ

Seriously, INTJ? Seriously? I don't believe it. That is totally not me, is it? Damn it, I always get that when I take the Meyers-Briggs but I don't know if it's really me or if it's how I used to perceive myself to be. Look at this description: http://typelogic.com/intj.html Does this sound like me to you? According to this, I should really be pursuing my interest in anthropology or psychology or law. Damn it. It really makes me question all of the decisions I've made. But should it? Even if I am an INTJ, I can evolve. I can be good at massage. If only anatomy wasn't so damn annoying. I hate memorization. I like theory. Do you see what's going on here. The crisis of identity continues.

dreaming of trains, dreaming of boats.

Do you remember the time I sat leaning back and could not look at you-- it was all just gasping for air and sticky heat? Do you remember us there at all? Can you see what's become of me since I regained some sense of air? Every moment spent trying not to swallow it, trying not to let it in. I think you've hardly even noticed me at all. I'm staring at this computer day after day. I'm desperate for some sense of calm, for some sense of your breath on my neck, your hands on my back. Just to mention it leaves me just a pile of flesh, just a heap of bones, just a withered, toxic mess. Is there a way to explain to anyone how much the guilt and the failure drips in, floods in, washing all of the good, all of the hopes away. You call me strong. I call you blind.

I'm dreaming of trains. I'm dreaming of boats. I can see my body there, floating on the water.

----------------------
A man that I dated shortly recommended this band Luce. It reminds me of a time before. It's difficult to know what to compare it to. Del Amitri or some of the first Train songs make sense but they also remind me a lot of Sugar Marie. I'm sure most of you don't know anything of Sugar Marie. They were a fabulous little Minneapolis band with beautiful harmonies and some of the most lovely lyrics. I've been trying to find them online somewhere so I can share them with you. If you go to this blog, it will stream "Falling" -- one of my favorites.This song is about being sick and in some ways, although I feel stupid saying it, I feel like I can relate. You can also listen to Favors. This is quintessential Sugar Marie.

"I'll be someone to trust and hold you in need. Ill be willing and honest and ask for your hand. I'll be real kind and open to change. I'll be gentle and fair and hold you in need. It starts simple. It ends the same. Let's play a game. Please won't you play." 

Sugar Marie was introduced to me by my second boyfriend. He was a sweet guy, albeit slightly troubled. I remember the way that he looked at me admiringly and made me laugh at myself and life so easily. I remember smiling a lot in those days. He has actually helped me a bit in my current state. Back in December when things were crumbling, he spent a long time on the phone with me. I am lucky to have had people like him in my life.

Luce, is a current California band producing songs that don't seem like they were made for the radio or for live performances or anything other than long road trips or nights laying on your back in the dark, where you are in a state of reflection and letting go. "My Life Alone" is an over and over and over again tune for me. After tomorrow  is slow and swaying and makes me want to leave right now... just grab 1 suitcase and be gone.

"After tomorrow, I'm no longer for sale. I'll give back the sorrow but I'm keeping myself." 

Maybe I could do that in some small swampy town in some small shack, in some place where I can no longer harm anyone, where the burden of days is lost on sleep and writing and running through the woods.

I don't know what I want of this world anymore. My family and friends feeling sad the same. Everyone the same. My optimism, my idealism, my love is waning.