AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I have a headache. I have TMJ and tongue thrust. It's been gray and rainy. I am likely living with the consequences of chocolate and beer. I have allergies. I have a virus. I feel totally disconnected from my family. Two of my parents bicker and it's depressing. My mom has mental illness and has always had financial problems. My dad is stubborn. I have to hurry and get a passport. My name is "baby girl" and that presents a problem. My friends are pretty much always dealing with their own hardships. I don't have companionship most of the time. My stereo is broken. I need to do laundry but can't seem to. I need more socks and underwear. I can't find the make-up I bought to replace the make-up that was stolen from my car after the window was smashed out. My car is leaking. I had a terribly uncomfortable conversation with the guy that slowly and steadily has been breaking my heart for over four months. I am probably ovulating. It's my only day off and there's too much pressure to spend it doing important things. I work at 7:30 in the morning at my minimum wage job where I make VERY few tips for lots of work and plenty of crustomer shittiness. I can't look decent at work, because everything gets ruined. Most of my clothes don't fit me anyway. I have WAY too much school reading to do. It's too hard to be happy, it takes too much work. Like reiki, yoga, meditation, pure diet, vitamins, positive thinking, exercise, honesty but not complete honesty, and avoiding substances. SO much fear, pressure, physical pain, disappointment, confusion, emptiness, etc. And then I go directly to feeling defensive, because I have shame for being bummed.

NNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!

No more thinking!!! No more analysis. No more mulling or figgerin' or dialoguing.

OOOMMMMM...

And yet I feel so lonely. Must talk to someone.

Do I Even Know How to Use This Thing?

This could be great. I started blogging and wanted feedback, but never really got much and the whole thing was so unsatisfying. But I've been having all these thoughts lately and when I talk to people they want to talk back at me. Solve my problems, fix me, dismiss or minimize. Give me some fucking trite, invalidating, or HIGHLY personalized perspective and play like God, wrapping up my feelings and experiences into neat packages so they can feel better about my being in discomfort. Well, here I am. At the keyboard, remembering the beauty of the black hole blog. By now everyone has stopped checking for updates I'm sure and I can just floooooow. Perfect. It's raining today and I decided not to pick up a work shift, even though I need the money to support a newly acquired Aveda habit. So basically I paid $50 to do nothing today. Like a cover charge at the door of my apartment. Still I could use a week of this at least. There is SO much nothing that I need to do. I think shopping might feel good. I've been out of the shopping practice for years. Then threw myself back into consuming and had to take a break. I know everything I purchase is exploitive and I already have more than I need. Let's see....is there anything really crucial to spill? Mostly I journal a lot, so it isn't that my thoughts aren't getting out of me. They are. I am just THAT self centered and absorbed. I have THAT many thoughts and feelings in a given hour. I need to journal in a notebook, journal on-line, talk, pray, take pills, meditate, just to expel the rapid fire observations, opinions, perceptions, theories, conclusions, confusions, delusions, pressures, and contradictions. Being me is complex. I'm not a fucking rotten turd, I realize I'm not brilliant, but I fucking think a lot and get all stimulated by simple happenings. Whatever. I don't have to defend myself, because it's my blog and no one is listening and I don't care. I'm working on self acceptance. Well, I don't know if I'm working on it, but it's a theme. Today the theme is Focus on School Work. It's true that if I want something in my life I need to practice that. That is to say, if I want happiness than practice happiness, or do things that bring happiness. If I want love, patience, energy, confidence, etc. So if I want to focus on my school work (which we all know I abso-fucking-lutely totally don't) then I need to practice it. Not wait for God to miraculously make me interested in my studies like Glenda. But rather show some fucking willingness. But I think I'm going to the mall instead. Mira got a kickin' zip-up hoody there and it's raining and I NEED long sleeves. Then I can hit a support group meeting and maybe dinner. Share my insanity with others. That's fun. And then MAYBE pick up a school book tonight, when I'm home. But I doubt it. I'm not claiming to be a victim. I know it's a procrastination of my making. I wonder though if it's the subjects, or the way in which I'm taught? Or if I'm just too self absorbed to give a fuck about what other people think, and I just want to think my own thoughts and think about what I think and how I think about that? Drinking water is important. And breathing. Breathing is really important.

Unsolicited

You were going to call me tonight.
When you were done having dinner with "“friends"”.

What if I wasn'’t taking a bath this evening?
Straightening up my place,
practicing piano,
buying an Edie Brickell song from itunes?

All the while thinking about school reading;
and You.

What if I was adoring another man?
Playing with his balls?

Would that bother you?

I know you could do better.
That isn't the point.

So could I.

I went to your home uninvited.
Your best friend answered my drunken knock.
Door locked.

I couldn't really focus on the lawn adornment.
Pepper plants, bicycle, clothesline, kayak...

Table made by your own affectionate hands.

So I just looked up.
The haze passing by the near-full moon was possibly
the best moment of the evening.

I tried to call first.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
BEEP!

I wonder if I stand real still
if I stand a chance?

I don't know if anyone is still out there, but I guess it's pretty much inconsequential. Things have been steadily improving. Financially, internally, with work, with Him ("Him" being the sexy man, not the large, proverbial "Him" in the sky, though that relationship is likely improving as well). I am taking to calling him The Miracle, instead of The Mirage. As he still calls and comes by after all my awkward neediness. It's progress. I'm sure it would be super cool to write about something other than me, my life, my thoughts, my feelings, my experiences, my opinions, my perspective, my obsessions, my interests, my loved ones, etc. But I don't really see that happening any time soon. Maybe that is something I could challenge myself with? Step away from the Carrie. Most topics seem trite/cliche'/discussed already, so why not just super indulge in self? Good rationale? In some pathetic moment of desperation, (that's my excuse for being lame, what's yours?) I signed up for dating related internet "advice". Mostly it just served to utterly confuse and shame me. Well, still does. It's all set up as though I'm the J Lo character in a high budget movie who has access to 7 single men with different Ken doll personas, and I need to be selective about which plastic mound I mount. Not taking into consideration the nuances of my unique personality and desires. Nor the reality of the affect that moods, past hurts, addictions, mental illness, physical disease, finacial hardships, personality disorders, familial strife, and not being J Lo have on my 3 dimensional relationships. Still I can appreciate what they're trying to do. Capitalize on women's insecurities. It's a noble pursuit that is guaranteed fiscal gain, so if nothing else I honor their shrewd business skills. If I can keep from purchasing an ebook and just stick to the self flagellating free emails, then I win.

Why My Life Sucks ~by Carrie

My life sucks because I'm a spoiled American (like I already told you) and I think I need something, when in fact, I have everything I need. I am safe and fed. But nooooo, I want romantic love. Which is a lot like wanting a space ship to land in my living room with all the disney characters in it, and all the aliens and disney characters to prance around my house and make Grateful Dead music and bake fresh bread in my oven. And then leave me $2900 for a shit kickin' time in my pad. That is the equivalent of what I want. Only a little more realistic. And that makes me want to cry. So I'll see you in another week. Or something.

Ummmm

Yeah. So I don't really have any solidified thoughts. And so that is why I don't type shit on my blog. But whatever. "Why should I? Solidify, and make me real, so you can see me?" (~Sheryl Crow) Lots going on in my head, cuz that's how I live, yo. Thinkin'. And it don't stop. There seems to be a list of things that grows exponentially, it buds and multiplies itself. One errand leads to another. Projects blend, conversations lead to more conversations. My ass itches. What was an excruciating sunburn has "progressed" into antagonizing torment. Whatever, it's fucking always something. This summer alone was the foot injury, the stomach flu, and 3 sunburns. Don't give me that, "Why don't you put on sunscreen?" lip either. That's not up for discussion. I will be discussing how slow I am to technological advancements and procuring them in my life. I put in an order for caller ID this week. See? And I STILL don't have a cell phone, but need one every...OH, HOUR ON THE HOUR!! So...the rules and regulations of life are really hindering me.

Do: exercise, drink water, meditate, smile, tip well.

Don't: drink alcohol or caffeine, watch t.v., bask in the sun, or demand things of males, even if they are reasonable things that they would enjoy, and they often claim to want themselves.

It's all too much. The pay off isn't even walking on water. For me it's like, not wanting to kill yerself and shit. I mean that's kind of a mellow dramatic exaduration, but not really. If I play by most of the social rules I have some how acquired along life's breezey, zippidy do dah way, then I get what? The man? The glizt and glam? The nice T and A? Approval? Realistically I get some moments that aren't saturated with shame. And that's about it. I am not even guaranteed to live longer or laugh more. I don't know what I'm talking about. I'm done.

Surly

You flash your smile
make me wanna' flash somethin' pretty
we were waitin' on a miracle
we were both pushin' thirty
you surround yourself with smoke, good music, Marley fans, and other girlies
left alone my heart gets surly

You place your hand upon my skin
my mind begins to wonderin' "Is somethin' happenin'?"
How could I do this to myself again?
Is there no end?

We're friends
just friends

When I inhaled as you exhaled sweet air
when my lips hovered, did you want 'em there?
And when your voice goes in my ear
you know what I want and where

But we're friends
just friends

Maybe if your eyes didn't look like the river running through my life
maybe if your sent didn't get me thinkin' so indecent
and ooh, your sound
if I didn't need you around

We could be friends
just friends
good friends

Uh uh you go, titillating all my senses
I told you baby, I was sensitive
now we've got up our defenses
when we meet again

Will we be friends?
just friends
good friends
more than friends?

I don't know. You tell me. Zaadz...

I DON'T CARE!!!!

Today fucking sucky suck sucked. And I don't care. If you think I am a whiney bitchy brat then that is for you to think and me to be. Things have been looking up, but today was a set back. At least that's what I want to think. I have a 9th degree sun burn on my ass and it makes me vulnerable in too many ways. I have been trapped in a pattern of addiction for so long, and it feels heavy and taxing. I don't want to listen to myself, so I'm shutting up.

Sat. Sun. Mon. Tues.

So many days pass, and I think I'm not interesting enough to write anything, so I don't. I've been busy. Busy obsessing, I suppose. I likely just don't manage time well, because I think of all these things I could do, or "should" do, and am clearly not doing them. Like blogging. Like putting the letter to my mother in the mail. Like putting letters in the mail to my friend who was wrongfully sentenced to life in prison; and is fighting for his freedom for the 2 or 3rd year now.

It's a sunny day and I was drug out of my house by a friend from C.C. to the Mad river. Which brings me to the song that Devin wrote called "Carrie U." In which he says, "Carrie there is beauty like the Mad river underneath your skin, and I am grateful for your invitation in". To which I said, "Is there no beauty above my skin?" Aren't I a spoiled brat? Someone wrote this most amazing, touching, gorgeous song about me, and I hear, "Carrie you are inadequate".

Anyway, next I will address the Jenns. So many Jenns, and I want to thank them all. Thanks to Jenns for commenting. For listening, caring, being strong women, dragging me to the river, inviting me to OR, telling me I'm doing a good job, wanting what's best for me, being loyal, kind, loving, honest. Jenns are fab.

Work is improving, but I'm spoiled there too. It's nice to have an income. Super nice. It's also really easy for me to be sucked into consumerism. Wanting bigger, newer, prettier, softer, shinier, more.

Interactions with Marc the Mirage are possibly improving as well, but it's definitely easy to want more there.

In conclusion, I am spoiled. Which we already knew, as it is directly stated in the "about me" section of this blog. I didn't set out to restate that proclamation, but there it is.

Carrie Starr yo.

WHY?

I spent the whole day
worshiping the sun
because god
was like a serrated knife
in my rib cage

nobody needs to know
of the damage all that
curiosity did
to my ability to reason

neither does anyone need to take a stab at it

the only thing goin' down
on these steamy,
evening colored streets
is the blazing hot topic of
"Who did this to me?
And why?"

Round Two

Marc's back. And he shaved his beard. All bets are off, and I can babble and be real. Well, mostly real. I had told him I couldn't be his friend because I'm too attracted to him. Which sucks to say, because men are often so arrogant, that saying things like that just feeds the problem that I'm finding myself in, as it were. But I told him I miss him and apologized. So now we're "friends" again. This could just be a stage in the process of letting go, but that's ok too. The man I really want to be intimate with right now, is the Big Man up the proverbial stairs. I wish he would reveal himself to me. And not be such an esoteric bastard, like the rest of these teases.

Mmmmm...
Kitty Lunchmeat Sandwich

The contradictions between humans and the animal kingdom are baffling. I don't have a pet. And I don't eat meat. Both of those things make complete sense to me. I don't want to OWN another being. Neither do I want to eat them.

I remember my step-brother reacting to an article about horse meat. And people are always vilifying Asians by making jokes about them eating cat or dog. What's the fucking difference? If you eat meat, you eat meat. Why is it socially acceptable to eat a duck or a deer, but not a swan or a monkey? It's all gross, so don't look at me. Furthermore, why do people in this country give their cats and dogs better medical treatment than many humans receive, but eat pigs or chickens, who are repeatedly scientifically proven to be equally smart and unique in personality?

Creatures are kept captive in cages and bowls; I once saw Siamese Fighting Fish on an end-cap in a walmart. As though they were no less objects, no more biological, than spring collection body mist or plastic mugs for coffee to-go.

What happens in the meat and dairy industries is nothing short of evil. I buy my eggs cage free, if they are too expensive, then I can't afford eggs. Chickens don't have to be mutilated and kept five to a square foot cage, under 24 hour fluorescent lighting to nourish me.

So many people use the excuse that addressing animal rights has to come after dealing with human rights. Why make it either/or? Can we multi-task folks? They'll take their dog to be groomed, and not allow a houseless woman to shower in their bathroom, ostensibly doing neither.

Closed

So I'm done with them for awhile. After Ken I decided not to date for at least half a year. Then I crushed on Devin when that time was up, but Devin wasn't into me. Post Devin I think it was Phil. He mislead me, and dumped me before we actually started dating. It was super weird, as was/is he. Then there were the cute Red Cross boys. One on each trip. And during the semester, Pretty Andy, who was totally fucked up and nothing happened with, but I some how thought it was promising. That's basically a year and a half worth of crushing, bringing us up to Marc. And I have felt so vulnerable, confused, obsessive, distrusting, anxiety ridden, and grossly insecure, that I can see (with the help of Jenn) that it's just not fucking time for me. I fall too hard, too fucking fast. Splat!

Because I almost didn't survive the Ken break up, I'm much more leery. I don't want to be alone, and I've tried to continue believing that love is possible. I would often say, "I would date me." But I don't think any of that matters. I have plenty to bring to the table and I deserve love. But I concluded at some point that I'm cursed. That karmic-ly I am paying a debt or learning a lesson from another life. It's kind of the only thing that made sense to me. But I don't really want to believe that either. For now, I just know that I handled this Marc situation so fucking lame, that I need to sit on the bench for awhile. Get some balance. I so naively blanket out my number with a friendly smile and lavish hugs, but I need to say, "No thanks." Not that they are breaking down the door, cause they aren't.

Anyway, I ran into a former classmate today, who reminds me of Ken. He talked to me for awhile, and it was fantastic. He's in a relationship, so talking with him was great; no pretenses. He reminds me just how AMAZING some men are, and how I should hold out for one of them. My fears are numerous, but mostly that his kind are all taken. But that is of no concern at this point. However, extracting my heart from my ass is.

McRant

There's a lot on my mind. Moods, life, thinking, feedback, whatever. People keep telling me I deserve this or that. As in a loving partner. But like I've said, deserving something doesn't really mean shit, in my experience. Also, I am tired of people telling me I think too much. Or analyze too much. So what if it's true, even? What the fuck am I supposed to do about it? It's like telling someone they're too tall. That's just how my brain works. You know what I tell them? Maybe if other people would think more, I wouldn't have to do their share of thinking.

(I took a Maddy break)

Anyway, there's been a lot going on, because that's how life is as I know it. Complex and challenging. I fucking get so fed up with feeling inadequate for just being aware and honest. I am completely rambling, but I don't really care, for some reason. I think it's the anti-anxiety pills. I told Marc I couldn't be his friend because I'm too attracted to him. He was kind of offended. He's right, and I'm wrong. I make so many mistakes. But I was suffering. On the floor crying in fetal position kind of suffering. Anyway, it's all too fuckin' much sometimes. Life, people, death, reality, oppression, war, environmental devastation, moods, fears, sadness, confusion, depression, grudges. And then someone says sweet words, or Sage does something super spontaneous and new and it's kind of ok for those moments. Sometimes I cry with relief when love is exchanged or solutions are reached. I miss Marc a lot. I have missed him a lot since we first connected. I'm told my obsession with him, has nothing to do with him. And it's true. I mean he is a kick ass guy in his own right, but if it wasn't him, it would just be someone else. And that's so hard and embarrassing. Men are my addiction. They have been since at least junior high. I blogged about this a year ago or so. But I can't just abstain, it isn't that simple. I mean for awhile that's healthy, but not indefinitely. I'm not even over Ken, so I have no business being friendly and giving my number to someone anyway. But God was this one tasty. I wish I was addicted to something I could control. Something I could score on the streets. Instead of people with their own rights, who can set boundaries when you need a fix. Fuck.

The Vans and the Buses

Checkered Vans
make Kurt Cobain
think David Byrne is cool
Cool enough to emulate
Cool enough to take Janine's place?
Never.
Maddy said Janine had flowers for breath
silken woven worm made hair
that shimmered as a lei
around Shaair's neck
and on his feet
were not checkers
but Ali Shaheed Muhammad's
New Balance
like a trip on the bus
It's National Make Congress Ride the Bus Week
They work in blue collared, raged, swollen, mildewing jobs
with no medical insurance
And they break.
And they too do themselves in
Like the nation
Like Kurt.

The Hippy

Ok, so here it is...

No, he's not ideal.
But let me just say this, neither is being alone.

Opposites Day

Tarnation, I do declare! This is the day the Lord hath designated for the loving of the Carrie. And lo, it was good. Amen. I could not say enough good things about today's manager. And she says good things about me. For instance, "Let me hug you because you're wondermous." My primary co-worker had phat love, and even random crustomers were down with tha love givin'. One lady said, "You must have been hired for your fabulous personality", while a guy visiting from London told me, among many other kind things, I was "spiritual" and "inspirational". OMG. So you KNOW I hugged him and sent him off with a free cookie. Let's see...I got a message from my mother saying nothing but love, and an email from Maddy that I'll just have to show you a little of:

"you rock, and though it will truly take YOU to tell yourself this, i'm going to say it again.

you make 29 look fucking HOT. everyone says so. you look goooood. shit, you make 21 look fucking hot. and talented. and beautiful. and kind. and gentle. and damn intelligent.

bitch please. you da shit."

NUMBER ONE, ALL TIME, BEST EMAIL EVER RECEIVED!!! Yesterday I BARELY could keep from walking off the job. Today was, by contrast, utopian. And it isn't over. That's what's so fuckin' rad! Is this mania folks? Does life shift that much, or is this strictly about moods? Anyone?...