So, less than a half hour ago I had a mental and emotional breakdown. For hours, I've been on the verge of tears for no definite reason. Then, all of a sudden, I just started bawling. What finally triggered it was the stupidest of reasons: I have nothing to send to George.
Yesterday I got a Happy Birthday/Anniversary package from him. He sent me a sock monkey (I've always wanted one and now I have three), a little kid tshirt that says "Someone who loves me went to San Francisco and got me this," a picture of him (so vain), and a day planner that I sent him and told him to fill in like a journal.
At first, I was kind of pissed because I'm always the one to send him something first but this time I procrastinated and waited to the very last second to get it all together.
And now I feel like I'm not sending him enough, even though I know that anything will be more than enough for him.
I'm sending him some pictures I took in Florida, this Kodak picture book of all of our pictures together, and this book called "I Love You Because..." and there are all these little prompts that you fill out about your relationship.
I have this bear that I want to send along that's holding a heart that says "I miss you," but it doesn't fit in the Flat Rate envelope and I don't have enough stuff to fill up the F.R. box.
That's what made me cry.

That and the fact that I feel like everyone is growing away from me.
My best friend has a boyfriend and all these other best friends and I feel like I never get to see her for more than an hour a week. And I felt selfish because I was bugging her that I never get to see her when I got to see her twice this week. We used to be completely inseperable.
Then there are people who want to be around me but I just can't right now. I feel horrible because the more they try to hang out with me, the more I have to push them away.
And I know that things will never be the same.


And when I need certain people the most, they can't or won't be around. And no one else will suffice because I just don't want them to because they're not my original Shoulders.


You know, it's the first time in months that I've cried. I feel like a baby because I'm taking these silly little things and blowing them out of proportion. But then again, I don't because this has all been building up for weeks and weeks and it's about time that I just let the tears roll.

So, if you love me or even if you know me, check out my poetry page on deviantart. This is stuff that I've written over the years (mostly in high school). A lot of it has the same theme or idea but all of it is different.

It's
spacecdt07.deviantart.com





Oh, time for a quick story (more for me [so I don't forget it])!

So, I was at my Great Uncle Bud's viewing tonight and my parents were visiting with my dad's Uncle Norman's sister-in-law, who also happens to be my dad's exwife's sister (No, my dad was not married to Norman's wife. There are three sisters.). Dad saw this lady and was in the middle of saying, "Kathy who is that?" when the lady leaned in and said, "I'll see you later, Kathy. Call me later to tell me how Gaylin (her husband) is doing." Dad just looked at the lady and had this Well that was kind of rude to interrupt a conversation look on his face. The lady left and Dad finally got out, "Who is she?? She looks really familiar!" and Kathy said, "What? Are you kidding me? C'mon Hobe." and Dad said, "What do you mean, 'what?'" Should I know her?" and Kathy exclaimed "You were only married to her for ten years!!"
Dad totally didn't recognize Juanita! I had only seen her once, eleven years ago at my grandmother's funeral, so I was keeping an eye out for her just to jog my memory. I remember that she had a face lift, red hair, and dressed all fancyschmancy.
Well, when she walked in to the room, I saw her and asked my mom if that was her and Mom didn't think so because she was chunkier and shorter than the Juanita that she knew and told me to ask Dad, so I leaned over and said, "Hey. That lady over there hugging Raymond. Is that Juanita?" and he looked and said, "Oh, no. That's not her" and that was the end of that.

Poor Dad...

Even better is the fact that my uncle works at the funeral home as an escort and stuff and he even held the door open for her and didn't know it was her.


I can only hope that I get my mom's memory genes.

Faster, faster back to Lampson Avenue

Yesterday at work, a man came in and tried to order a hotdog from me, only to be told that he would have to order off of the screen at the kiosk. He said, "Oh, nevermind. I don't know how to work those things." I offered my help and together we walked over to one of the screens and I began to show him how to order. Before I could even get out "Here are all your options," he said, "Can you do this all for me? I don't know how to read or write."

I don't know what I would do if couldn't read or write. I would never be able to let my thoughts go. That's what I do. Whenever I get these deep thoughts or I want to tell someone something but am afraid to or even just thoughts that I can't let go of, I grab a notebook and a pen and just go from there. I have zillions of notebooks full of my thoughts and what I should tell people. Without writing, I would be a bigger headcase than I already am.


That's all I had to say, really.

The End.

Yes.

Your lamps will call me home

Oh. My. Gee.

On the way home from my dentist appointment, I had this super epiphany about something surely incredible and I couldn't wait to get home and put it here for the entire world to be enlightened.
Well, of course, I had to tend to various things before I could even touch the computer.
Now I have no earthly idea as to what I could have discovered.
I know that it was quite philosophical and could edify the nations. Heck, it could have been the true meaning of life or how to end hatred.

Oh well. You'll have this.


Do you think it's too late for me to be a boxer? Or an artist? Or a gymnast? I've always wanted to do that stuff, I just lack the motivation, ya know?

I think I'm going to apply to a make-up artist school. That's something I've wanted to do for years now.
But then again, I've wanted to own a restaurant called "The Soup Place." I've wanted to go to 'beauty school.' I've wanted to be a photographer. I've wanted to be a horse dentist. I've wanted to write novels. I've wanted to be a mother (and I still do).
But make-up? That's something I know I won't get tired of. It will be something new everyday. I love make-up. I want to do prosthetic make-up and special FX make-up.
Dos problemas: For a make-up kit alone (in some schools) it's about $5,000 and there are a limited number of schools.
Right now, I'm looking at Joe Blasco (in Orlando),Westmore Academy (in Los Angeles), MUD (in NYC), Complections (in Toronto), and Studio Makeup Academy (in Hollywood).
People I've talked to about this choice think that I'm going to have a problem with monstery thing because I'm not one for scary things. I don't think I will. If I'm the one creating it, I'll be perfectly fine.


I don't know.

Just saying.

Yes.

Oh my gee

Do you ever give advice to someone, completely not knowing that you need it more than they could ever appreciate? Yeh, me too.
I just (kind of) gave advice (by commenting her blog) to my friend (this is a shout out to you, if you ever read this).
She was saying how she's barely scared that her boyfriend is going to find a new girl when she goes off to school. Then, she said how she was much more afraid that she would meet a boy because she'll be in a new place with new boys.
Here's what I said:

you want long distance? try 3,078 miles (give or take, ya know).
and don't worry about the glorious prospect of new boys... I was completely single out in Idaho, surrounded by a basquillion guys who should have been perfect for me (and plenty who definitely were not) and I only had one guy on my mind the entire time, fully intending on coming back to good ol' pennsyltucky and being with that boy.

So, I see now in reading this again that I sound kind of cocky. But as I sat thinking about what I told her, I realized that I needed that most.


Another thing...
I'm listening to a CD that I asked Ivan (another shout out) for. There's a song on it that George wanted me to listen to forever ago, way before he left. Well, I finally got around to asking for it. The one song is about how this kid is dreading the end of summer because he has to leave or something (for his mission, presumably) and he has to leave his girl behind and doesn't want to say goodbye.
That got me to thinking... George and I dreaded the exact same thing because he left in August. We tried to savor each tiny, silly, dramatic, unusual, or average moment we had together. Then, BAM! it pops in my head: Duh, silly girl! Now, instead of dreading the end of summer, instead of it going so gosh darn fast, you should be so excited for it to get here! That means he'll be home in a year! And then NEXT summer!! My golly! He'll be home in no time!"

I'm such a wishful thinker. Do you think summer will go fast? Heck no. It's not like I'm going to be a high school student who has all summer to have fun and is then obligated to go back to school, forcing the summer to fly by. PSSSSSHH. I wish.

But it's not even spring yet. I don't know why I'm worrying about this now.
I guess I need something to worry about.

Attention: Miss Shaylynn Kilfoyle

I would like to make a public apology (yes, I know this sounds like some kind of celebrity press conference, and yes, I know it's completely immature for me to not apologize personally, and yes, I know that less than four people will ever read this).
The apology goes to Shaylynn Kilfoyle.
I'm sincerely sorry for the way I acted. I was being ridiculously juvenile. I was trying to ignore the fact that I could lose a friendship and that is exactly what I did. I felt like I was to blame (again).
You have to understand how I feel, though. I've ruined so many relationships. I've broken up so many couples and I have no idea how. I've had friends fight over and about and because of me. It makes me think that I'm doing something wrong. It makes me question whether I should have friends because I don't want to make anyone else upset.
People wonder why I'm not social, why I only associate exclusively with the few people in my little "clique," why I seem so unfriendly. Sure, I'm shy to a point. The real reason? I hate losing people. I'm afraid of feeling like the cause of contention among friends.

I had so much more to say but I lost it all.

I'm sorry.

It's gonna be a "no"

I was asked on a date.
I can't do it. I can't.
I have it in my head that I can only date (yes, I know that TECHNICALLY going on a date is different from dating) people who I can see myself marrying. That may seem completely irrational, but I don't care. I've always felt that I was the only one who thought that way because everytime I explain it, people look at me like, Are you crazy? A date is like a free meal! And it's just fun!
No, I'm not crazy. And no, it's not a free meal. If I wanted a free meal, I would go to a soup kitchen. It's not free because people go on dates in hopes of finding loooove. I guess it's fun, but I can have fun coloring or going bowling with friends.
I finally finally finally heard someone say what I thought!
It was on the Real World. Chet went on a date with some chick and when he came back, Ryan asked, "So do you like her?"
"Well, yeh. We're going to see each other again."
"Okay, well just from tonight, could you see her being in your future? Like as your wife?"
"Psh. No. Definitely not."
"WELL THEN WHY WOULD YOU DATE HER IF YOU COULD NEVER SEE YOURSELF WITH HER IN THE LONG TERM??"
Then, he continued to rant.

I guess it is kind of hypocritical of me to say all of that. I've dated plenty of guys I never would have wanted to marry. Ever. I didn't love them. It was just what I said above: crazy, free, and fun.

If the person who asked me on the date reads this, I'm sorry.