happiness

Tortoise and the Hare

So, there is this guy that formerly used drugs with. He is actually a reason that I decided I wanted to get sober. Well, what I mean is he is what I decided I didn't want to be like and so I got sober.
After I got sober, he kept using. We would go through periods where he would call me 6-8 times a day and I wouldn't answer because... ?
I talked to him today and he is sober. 30-something days sober. And he sounds so different now than he use to.
I wasn't in a good place to be a mentor, like I always was before.
I was running around the house in shorts and a cut wife-beater, sweating like crazy, shutting all the windows and turning on the fucking A/C. Fuck the heat. I moving into my freezer.
So I am blabbing when it is necessary and thinking about how far a certain street runs in a particular direction.

Just makes me thinking about the tortoise and the hare: I'm running as fast as I fucking can and then I run out of breath (or fall on my fucking face, you can decide). Meanwhile, that little friggin' turtle has been pacing his/her self.
DAMN!!!!!!!!!!
At least I had that short period of being way-the-fuck-ahead of everyone else.
KISS MY ASS!

All my friends always told me I look like a bunny
-K

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There is more I want to say so, hopefully, I will post later...

Striving for sainthood

One step closer to sainthood. Dumbass.

Hollywood

Well, hello.
Last Friday, N. and I went to Hollywood. We went in the morning to see a taping of 'On air with Ryan Seacrest'. Now, I don't like Ryan Seacrest in the slightest, and I have never seen the show on TV. Therefore, when we waited in line and didn't get in, I think N. was relieved that I wouldn't have a chance to be an ass on live television. We will be back, with automatic tickets in. Wahahaha.
So, for the rest of the day we cruised Melrose shopping. I shopped. N. held the bags. Only because she wanted to. :)
Anyway, it was a good day. We were sitting outside eating lunch and this guy walked by; tattoos, hair in pigtails, plaid skirt, fishnet stockings; and said "How's Satan today you guys? Love ya!"
Well, that is what I thought he said. It turns out it was something like "Have a nice day you guys, love ya". Duh.
Behind us was this photographer talking to an aspiring actress about doing headshots. N. and I are about the most curious people, so we just sat there in silence and easedropped on these people. Every now and then we would crank our necks to look at the pictures in his portfolio.
So after we couldn't walk anymore, we drove up into the mountains overlooking Hollywood and took pictures; real tourist style. This is the first time since I acquired the old family camera that I have had the guts to put COLOR film in it. Black and white film.. You can shoot a butt crack with this camera and, if its black and white, it will turn out good. The color film was meant to capture California...Hopefully to decorate a room in my father's house.

My father was a photographer for many many years.
When I was growing up, we would always go on drives in the country and take pictures. We did it all the time. The family thing was if anyone suggests "let's get doughnuts!" we end up in another state taking pictures by mid-day.
So when he quit the photography thing to go back to law school, eventually ending up the GM at a Ford Dealership, he gave away his cameras; in the family of course. They were split between my brother and me. He kept quite a few; collectibles; I have never seen them used. They are kept high up on a shelf for everyone to see, and no one to touch.

Cancer is beatable. When I found out about the cancer, I knew that out of everyone I know, my dad would be the one that could beat it. And it looks like that is going to be the case. Thank God.

Its all mixed up

So yes, I am six months sober today
Its strange because I feel nothing. Obviously happy I made it this far. But not like it should be.
Sometimes I want to run to them. Sometimes I wish they could make me see again.
No feeling. Numb and scared. So scared.
I'm sure its in there somewhere.
But I don't let it show, I don't let myself know
Honestly,
There is no telling whats really going on inside me.

So I am staying in my little world, with my pretty pictures of what I think happened, what I think it was like.
And there is no telling whats true, whats real... and whats not

I don't know how long I will stay like this.
Something has to go wrong, really really wrong. Because I am not cracking for a moment of bonding with my ex boyfriend.

Is that selfish? Ridiculously so? Self-preserving?

Ah, I am a fossil mold.
I am whats left from something that is now extinct.
There is no telling...

God, how I wish I could write this in tears. That's sick, huh.
Its like I wrote earlier... I want to find something that will make me fall to my knees, arms outstretched, crying for help. Pain couldn't hurt.
The irony.

Love will bring me down, and there will be peace in falling.
Love will bring me pain, and there will be serenity in feeling alive again.

Happy Birthday

So its my mother's birthday
Happy birthday

No entry for my brother's birthday a few days ago. Fuck'em

I think I am sunburnt. I get sunburnt really easily. Thanks to my father, sensitive skin runs in the family. So here I go trying to remember to put aloe on, which seems to be a good excuse to run around the house in a bathing suit all day. Ei ei ei.
The whole reason I am sunburnt is because I figured out that it is fun to do my homework in the backyard. Yes, thats right, I read about psychological testing while I let my skin fry. That is one of the wonderful things about southern california.

There was always that joke that I am going to get lung cancer, but I think I am going to switch it to the more likely skin cancer.
Fucking cancer. Everyone has to deal with it.

Maybe I will attempt to write later... sorry this blog is a piece of shit. Actually, its kinda ok. Its kinda ok.

-k

Baggage

I have writings from about the age 10. For some reason I kept them all and they weigh down many drawers in my room.
But I can't help thinking that all these old journal entries, and old journals... Pages that I wrote when I was in rehab... They are all just baggage that I kept as a reminder of my past. I keep them so if I, one day, want to go back (for some god damn reason), I always can; if I want to relive/live in what used-to-be... I will have an open invitation.
It will be a good day when I free myself and burn them all. The way I saw things, it was so twisted. To think that I could go back on myself, purposely cause the dropping feeling in my stomach, is a testimony to what I unconsciously already knew.
Its like spending all day giving it no thought, but then remembering what you dreamt about the night before. You know, right away, ah yes, that is a familiar territory. Same goes with realizing sick details of your own mind that you never wanted to think about.

So, hatboy is doing well. He must be. He is doing better than me merely by the fact that he is out there being honest. Here I am in my own polluted fantasies and daydreams. God. I make myself out to be such a victim sometimes (a lot).
But back to hatboy. I am really happy for him. I can't believe the uncontrollable, absolutely ridiculous urge to smile that comes over me every time I talk to him, exchange glances. Aside that one time, that I wanted so desperately to be angry, he has always had the ability to make me smile. That wouldn't be such a big deal except that I don't even really know this person.
It gives me hope that I will let someone in eventually. Maybe I won't be afraid to give my smile away to someone.
There is a piece of me that knows that it would feel really good to stretch my legs emotionally. Its been so long, and I've been so scared.
I could make a list off of him...
He is one of those people that I think "wow, now I am going to end up with someone like that. GOD, I hope you are taking notes: reserve someone like that for me".
But like I said, I don't know him... At all. But occasionally, I wish I did.

Simply, since I've already overstated and confused myself... I have a crush. A ridiculous, NOTABLY FADING, crush. But I must press the point that this isn't something that I want to turn romantic. You HAVE to know that. There are so many things wrong here, but someday, I think that those things will be cured, a different guy will appear...
And what?
And we will go riding into the sunset? Oh please, spare me!
Let's not get any over-zealous expectations.
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To some, I may seem stupid. Even to those that are close to me. That may be true. But it is important for me to say, even if it is only to myself on this blog, that I am not stupid. There is no anger towards that accusation; anger would imply that I am rallying against the true of the statement. In fact, I am very aware of my little nervous saying that would make it seem that all I can say is
"Yea" or "poor *insert thing deserving mercy here*" or "Ya know"
And yes, saying these things once or twice is just fine.

Sia gentile.
Stay steady.

everyone has a family idiot:

So, my brother. Actually, for all intents and purposes, I really dont have a brother.
For a long time it really bothered me that I wasn't close to my brother. We never particularly got along, but he really decided to disown me when I leaked that we smoked pot together. He loved that. Not.
Anyway, now it isn't that bad. Its crazy how things that you thought were oh so important start to seem less and less important, or at least very different, through time.
Same reaction to listening to songs that I haven't heard in a few years. They seem to have a completely different meaning. Or, and this can be both good or bad, they remind you of a certain time in your life.
That is the weirdest, possibly most paralyzing part of life for me. Everything (almost) reminds me of something, sometime, somewhere, in the past. Often, it seems to be emotions that I don't really want to relive.
Hmm. Guess I'm screwed.

I thought I should just put something on here since I am becoming a disgrace to the blog community.

-K

{intermission}


I miss hatboy. He is someone worth missing, from what I can tell.
Living proof that eyes can say more than you ever wanted them to.

well, I think I suck at the whole posting thing. Um, surpressing the urge to live in my past. Though I'm sure that isn't something one can achieve all of the time. Thats all I have to say right now. Oh, and I am feeling better about the 'ghost of past relationships' problem
-Kelly

Well hello. It looks like a am freed from the chains of my old online ranting page. How good to be a new member, and oh! my own URL. How about that? I can die happy now. *smirk*
There is very little that I am going to put on this page until I get it feeling more like home.