Phluphee

it's been a weird two weeks. i've learned some things about myself that maybe i didn't want to know...and maybe what i thought i wanted was something else entirely.

so, it's good to have awareness and stop dreaming of things that aren't really worth dreaming about...and focus on good things are healthy.

i'm moving tomorrow...not excited, but happy that it will be done finally...now if i could just figure out how to make some cash. and perhaps a place  in california. wooh.

the deadline for my book is in exactly one month. i am scared...and excited. i need to get to writing.

Suddenly, I don't want to do any of my projects. They are all annoying me. And I don't like them and they don't do anything for me. I was just doing them to keep busy. And now I just want some time to clear my head. My schedule is full the next few days and I don't want to do any of it. Fuck...

12+ hours packed into the back of a durango made me tired and cranky.  we drove from clovis, california to tucson, arizona. miles and miles of road.  rolling hills sprawled in points of green, specs of brown.  dirty, flat lands strewn with tumbleweeds. quiet ciities with sign twirlers. jack in the box.

the hotel in clovis was a dump.  we had to fight for towels. and internet. and many other things like peace.
but the investigation was kick ass. and it was a rush that i hadn't felt before. my love for the paranormal has been revived.

still not sure what i want to do. but when do i ever.  now that i am home. i don't want to leave the comfort of routine. but i have more travels...more words to press out...more places to etch into my memory.

i must wait. wait. take some time to let the thoughts settle. the feelings to materialize.
i bend to and fro. wondering what my feelings mean. wonder what the other is thinking.  wonder what is going on that head of is.  never really knowing because there are barriers.  maybe from me. maybe from him.  probably from both.

i think i might have backed away just a bit.  or maybe i didn't. not sure. but i feel like i did. while sort of stayed in the same place. it's very strange how i seem to be circling and circling like a vulture.  not really sure why. i mean, could ask the necessary questions, but what would it prove. i already have the answers.  i know what i need to know. and there shouldn't be any question.

i fight for sanity. as the wheels turn in my own head. something feels wrong to me though. something feels off. and i'm not sure what it is. but something shifted. and i can feel it, and now i am waiting for the fall out.

i am tense from the drive, and the sleep, and the laundry. i am tense from this dilemma in m head. do i go back where i came from. do i keep moving foward. is going backward just a step to take another path. will he be part of that path. how will i know. what is the best place for me.

all things answered by time and standing still. something i hardly do. something i am not used to. but i know that's the answer. everything will be explained in time. and i just have to let it ride. so perhaps that's why i am circling because it's my way of standing still.

so, the premiere of the movie, it came and went. i had more fun telling dick jokes with my friends in our hotel room, then i did actually watching my own movie (which i didn't watch btw -- i hung out in the lobby) -- but it was an obligatory walk into the world that is high glossy pictures and silver pens.

i will have to get used to the idea of autographs and such.

ventura has been a slurry of this and that...mostly rescheduling, wandering about in the non-sensical world of other people's lives. in the realm of chaos that isn't my own. i have been delightfully resilient and mellow...going with the flow when i have to, hardly becoming frusterated at the prospects of losing everything.

i feel love in all kinds of uncertain ways. and i want to run away screaming. not sure if the risk is really worth it, but wanting to touch the fire. and i have been in those moments of clarity, meditating, and dancing among the butterflies in my stomach.

we will see where this all goes.

I am truly blessed. I have amazing people in my life.  That is all.

Christmas is a weird holiday when there aren't children around to filter it in bright hues of red and green.  I have no idea what to do with myself and there seems to be this pressure to be with people. People you love. People who feel sorry for you. People everywhere forcing cheer.

I see the people I love everyday. I don't need a holiday to make my life warm and fuzzy. But it is fun for the kids and if I had them right now, I'd make them cookies and we'd decorate gingerbread houses.  And there would be a tree and presents and all that shit that makes Christmas what it is...

Lately, I have been thinking about the Supernatural Xmas episode where the old deity comes down the chimney and eats all the parents. For some reason that makes me happy. I want to be a parent-eating deity this year.  And not because I'm bitter, but because it's perverse and it would be a hell of an interesting time.  It beats eggnog.

I don't know what happened. But the fog just lifted, and everything is going to work out fine. I'm right where I'm suppossed to be.  And I can't worry about the future. It will ravel as it's suppossed to. All I can do isbe  honest, live from my heart. The rest will work itself out.

I'm having some strange moment of clarity, and no, I didn't eat the brownies...

So yes, I've accepted my fate as completely fucked, and it's good to know that something wonderful could end up happening, even if it is temporary.  It makes it more interesting.  A little more...no holds barred, passionate - go for the whole enchilada.  Make it count.  I like that.  It feels dangereous and impetuous and bad. I need a bit of that in my life.  A little of bit of wanton free abandon sort of luxury.  I have prepared myself for the inevitable ending, and the leaving. And I accept the consequences, if the experience outweights the hurt.  A little bit of hurt is good, anyway. It just means there was something worth fighting for in the first place.

This weekend will be interesting and hopefully fun and purposeful. I think I might take a giant leap of faith and make sure something happens.  I don't have anything to lose -- And fear has held me back enough. So, I will take the first step. And I will be brave.

Wow.

I keep having the same dream in different variances. Three times now. 

Dream 1: I was with a shoulder-length blond haired guy, talking to a short, dark-haired  guy who I wanted to be with. It seemed like the dude liked me, but I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to risk it because I was already with someone.

Dream 2:  I was with a man and talking to another man, and I liked the man, but I couldn't do anything about it because I was already with someone.

Dream 3: Last night, there were two men in my dream. One tall, one short. I was going out with Diane Keaton, and the three of us were in her garage. The two men were her assistants.  We had to go to Macy's to pick out new furniture for her bedroom.  I was hanging out with the tall guy, but I thought the short guy might like me.  The tall guy seemed interested in me too, but I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to do anything about it.  So, we were looking for bedroom furniture at Macy's and Diane came and she wanted to buy a lot of furniture that used to be owned by a famous photographer.  Then someone walked by and asked if we knew Jeff Voyager, who was another less known photographer. We pretended like we did, but we really didn't and the woman who asked thought we were stupid.  Later, I realized that even though Diane was really cool and cultured and rich, she was too much for me, and I really wanted to be with the dark, haired short guy.  Somewhere in the mix, I had kissed the tall guy, but it was for fun, and it wasn't real.  I really wanted to break up with Diane and be with the short guy.  I went looking for the short guy and I found him in a Macy's bed. He had the covers over his head and he was crying. I kissed his cheeks and told him it was going to be okay. That we were going to be together.

Then I woke up.
 

Finished Angel S4, and it suuuuuuucked. Conner is a douchbag and the only good thing that happened was Cordelia's coma.  She was getting on my nerves too.

S5 is turning out better cuz...*squee* SPIKE!!!! Yeah. He makes everything fun. I

  And they do other things too, but it's a lonely business.  Just me and my laptop most days.  Music.  Lots of music.  And Kelly Howell Meditations.  Increase Creativity.  Positive Thinking.  Weight Loss.  Stress Free Forever. Love.   They massage my brain.  Keep it running, smoothly. 

I'm immersed in projects, and it's good.  Writing is good.  I listened to this podcast about writing down 5-10 things you would want yoru life to encompass if you were to die tomorrow.  Not things you want or desire, but the absolute essentials...I wrote my list and was surprised by the content. 

What I want is relatively simple, and I must remember this always...I have it written down on spiral paper tucked in my notebook.  It's loose leaf so that it falls out and I have to read it.  I'm going to write it here in my journal so that one day when I stumble upon this entry, I will always remember...

My 10 Sacred Wishes. 
These are essential to my being:
1.  I am enjoying a loving, lasting, fulfilling, creative, passionate relationship with a man.
2. I am enjoying financial security.
3. I am enjoying an honest, compassionate, balanced, loving, open, trusting relationship with  my family and friends.
4. I am enjoying being an honest, compassionate, supportive, loving and fulfilling relaitonship with my son.
5. I am enjoying knowing myself and loving myself and trusting myself.
6. I am enjoying helping others and myself through my psychic abilities and I am fulfilled spiritually through this process.
7. I am enjoying writing from the heart and being a successful writer.
8. I am enjoying emotional maturity and knowing when to hold on and when to let go.
9. I enjoy living passionately and creatively through my heart.
10. I am enjoying everyday, giving and receiving love and living openly and honesty with compassion.

Interesting when your whole life objective can be boiled down to 10 sentences.  Life is better that way...

I was up at 4 a.m. thinking about TV. Yeah. My life is THAT awesome.  So, I was thinking about while all of sudden I got all...eh...about Angel which is usually a really well-written show.  I love me some plot driven stories with really good characterization -- However...

K, so I know, I'm, oh, seven or eight years behind.  And I'm sure this has already discussed at length, you know, when it was actually relevant.  Still, I'm going to go on a tangent here, so click on the link if you care.  I totally understand if you don't.

( Read more... )


 

It's been a strange week.  Nothing happened.  But a lot did at the same time.  Finally, there is an end in sight to the evil that is the Bush Administration.  I have hope for the future.  I feel like I've just had the courage to break up with an abusive boyfriend.  Although, everything feels kind of fucked up, with everday things can only get better.  Except more globally... Just trade the country for the abusive relationship scenario...Hopefully, the Obama years will get this country back on track.  I don't expect him to fix things, maybe just gauze them up a bit and stop the bleeding.

In TV news, I'm caught up with Supernatural.  It was sad when I realized there were no previous eps left.  I haven't resonated to a show like that since QAF.  Every now and then I am tempted to put on seasons 1-3, but then I don't have the heart.  I can't bear to see Justin and Brian go through all the bullshit.  Especially, the violin days.  And I just pretend that S4-5 don't exist.  Plus, there are so many continuity issues, it drives me crazy.  There are well-thought-out shows who have way more plotlines, that seem to keep their shit together.  I don't know why QAF couldn't keep their characters' lives in order.  Take notes.  If the fans know more about your TV show then you do, there's something wrong.

So, now I'm hopped-up on Angel S3-5.  I'm in the middle of 4 right now.  It's all getting very strange and dark.  And why do Cordelia's boobs get bigger every season?  It's very disturbing.  Plus, her plotline in the last part of S3 into S4 is just dumb.  And why can't Angel have a wee bit of happiness?  Anything good in his life just gets taken away.  It's all very depressing...Fred and Gunn are boring with their puppy love thingy.  Wesley is the only one with any balls.  I like him all dark and mysterious.  Lorne is badass and Angel is broody, but for a good reason. So yeah...I'm lovin' this show but I kind of hate it too.  Cuz if the end of the world is coming, get on with it already.  I can't believe I have to wade through a whole other season to get to the apocalypse...Or so I assume.  I think I'm ready for a main character death.  Maybe someone with large boobs...

In real life -- Eh. Boring. I've been writing a lot.  I've been staring at my laptop for some time trying to figure out the next plot point for my book.  I have the next chapter written already. I just need some filler to get to the next key moment.  It has to be a believable jump though.  So, I have to think about it and work it out.  I miss my husband, and my son.  I miss making dinner and doing homework.  I miss my husband snoring.  I miss late night talks and good orgasms....

I miss domestic stuff...those little things that make up your life with another person.  It's just me a lot. I go out. I do things. I shop. I live.  But I feel somehow disconnected.  I have friends here, but I haven't met anyone who thrills me.  Who I want to hang out with all the time.  Or who makes me want to get out of bed and hang out with them.  Most of the time, I'd rather just be alone, hang out in my house and write or watch T.V. or...

I didn't have a car for a few days.  I had to get it fixed.  It cost me almost $400.  A small price to pay for freedom.  I'm not a hermit.  I'm not depressed.  I'm just...eh...I'm enjoying the quiet. Learning to love it.  There doesn't have to be drama all the time.  Sometimes life can just happen in a small kind of way.

I'm actually doing a lot when I don't think I'm doing anything at all.  Maybe I should remember that...

I have tiredness...

Last night, I went to a surreal wedding.  It was like being in a Tim Burton movie directed by his uglier step-brother and he couldn't get Johnny Depp, so he put in David Hassellhoff, and the funding didn't come through, so they shot on Hi 8 with fake plastic monsters, and a soundtrack from the bad 80's (not the good alternative stuff.) -- The colors of the wedding were black and red, and the heavy-handed symphony music perpuated a wake-like feel. 

Actually, I wasn't a guest. I got paid to read tarot at at this wedding with the sort of Halloween theme but not really.  They asked me to dress up like a gypsy. So, in a way, I was dressed up as a dressed up persona of myself.  An alter-ego, if you will.  I made good tips adn there was free booze.  My mom came with me just to keep me company and she drank gin and tonic to keep her spirits up. (Get it spirits? Halloween, drinking-- spirits? *ahem*) All the food has some sort of cream sauce on it and I know I did over 25 readings in a short few hours, but overall, I could have done worse on a Friday night.

Today, I have tarot hangover.  I went birthday shopping for the husband and the son. Went grocery shopping cuz food without sauce is nice. I bought bacon for the first time in months.  Bacon is my favorite friend in the whole wide world.  It's almost as friendly as my jewel-color Este Lauder Lip Gloss.  Well, they both smell yummy. Heh. Heh.

I am almost finished with S3 of Supernatural. I can't believe how fast it went. Only a few more episodes then on to something else.  I have much writing to do. I'm on two deadlines -- I need to get my ass in gear. But blah...tarot -- readings --- Halloweenie...

Tomorrow is the start of a new week and I will crank out the word count.

I am not friend with Halloween. Besides Easter, it has always been my least favorite holiday. Especially, with the ghost hunting bit, it seems to be put on display as a kitsche thing that freaky people do. And it seem it's only acceptable in October. The rest of the year, its back to being an outcast. For that reason, I stay clear of newspaper reporters, and the like. 

I'm in somewhat of a rut...no, not a rut...more a come down. I've been writing so much and finishing up projects, today, I didn't feel like doing much. So, I crocheted a hat. Pretty, black and red boucle yarn, and I finished up the second season of Supernatural.

I'm thinking about maybe forgiving myself for being a retard all of these years. I've done some truly stupid stuff with projects and money and people. Mostly money.

I have decided that here and now I will treat myself and money with the respect we both deserve.

I'm not sure how being passive automatically fits you into "mature" -- or when you are passionate and you stick up for something to the bitter end that puts you into the "erratic" category.

When has "playing it safe" had anything to do with maturity?  Safe people scare me.  I call them "campers" -- There the ones that pitch the tent on the side of the mountain while everyone else climbs it. 

 

 TV is cool.  Not the kind of TV where you sit on your ass and click channels cool.  But Netflix series cool.  DVR cool.  Fast forward through commercials cool. Yep. Yep. I have become a series junkie, and the worst kind.  I have to have my crack fast and hard.  No commercials, no waits. I want it now, now, now!!

Right now, I'm working on Angel S3 and Supernatural S1. Fun stuff. 

In other TV news.  I'm not sure I'm enjoying True Blood.  Religiously, I watch it ever week, but ...I'm on the fence.  I loved the books, and I like the Alan Ball touches.  It's dark and mysterious and raunchy...But...I don't know...I felt like the books had a whimsical quality which the series hasn't portrayed.  So, I will keep watching, and I'll scrunch my nose a lot and I guess that's okay.

I crocheted a pink cowboy hat. Cuz...the desert has taken over my brain.  And I've been wriitng like a mad fiend, which is good, but frusterates me because I'm all out of words right now, and I want to keep going.  My last chapter isn't feeling right and so I had to stop. Now, I'm doing a lot of thinking about it.  And I just want to write it, but I don't know where to go...Meh.

I'm not one of those prolific writers who can just go, go, go!  Though, writing comes naturally to me, the process doesn't.  I don't like reading dense books with a retarded amount of description.  I'm specific in my writing, but I like it to keep a flow and I don't want to get bogged down in details.  I'm an impatient reader, I guess, and the Kim Harrisson books, though well written, drive me nuts because I just want her to get to the point.

And this is the end of my fluffy pointless post...

You're here again, driving past familar buildings, street signs,and  land markers. And you notice that everything has stayed the same for the most part.  Maybe a renovataion, a shop with a new name, under new managerment.  But really, the overall theme of the place, the feel of it's wieight on your skin still clings with a resonance that you cannot escape as much as you wanted to. Although, you are different, putting ideals packing and sending them off to foreign lands, cleaning out bluebeard's closet. Leaving all that once was and isn't working for you anymore. Giving it all away to charity and selling what is worth something to someone else. And you feel that wha't left is the essence of you. A thirteen year cycle undone and done and tied up nicely with brown paper and string. But driving in the familiar steets of your childhood, the reminiscing kicks i n, the ache for what was lost settles into your stomach and you realize that the past is only a city away and it holds you captive with every street light and sidewalk and avenue, no matter how hard you try to purge out its sentimental fish hooks. So, you want to run away, leave behind the ocen air, to something drier, with the smell of freedom. There maybe dirt on your feet but that's because you are walking forward and living without the heaviness of yesterday wrapping it's tentacles around your shoulders...

i have a lot to think about. big life stuff. this is exciting, and scary and good. i might scale down a bit. i might take chances. but then i might not. hmmm...

i'm really looking foward to true blood on hbo. and i'm hopelessly, retarded obsessed with that stupid show "date my ex" -- what a lovely train wreck that show is.

and that's it.