Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: dreams, journal, random, thoughts, writing
This morning’s drink: chamomile tea.
I don’t recall ever asking for journals, but I do know that I’ve always received them. Christmas, birthdays, Valentine’s Day — family and friends alike have gifted me with journals since I can remember. And I’ve loved it — I’ve always loved it. I have stacks of ravaged journals and almost equal numbers that are dying to be filled.
One journal in particular came to me a few years ago with a matching photo album. Printed all over them in cursive and gold script are the words “Dream Journal.”
I don’t use this journal as my dream journal — or maybe I do. My confusion comes from the way people use the word ‘dreams’ to describe both the crazy things that go through their head at night, and the hopeful ambitions they cling to throughout the day.
Who ever made that connection? I’ve never had a night dream that encapsulated a fantastic job or a perfect mate. In fact, when I’m not dreaming about totally benign things like rearranging furniture or working, I’m fleeing from murderers in impossible alleyways or finding illogical solutions to riddles that don’t make sense.
Even when I’ve taken my dreams and tried to “read” them for their symbolism, they “tell” me things that a drunk person could probably elucidate with more elegance.
For this reason, I can’t think of the things I actually want to do in life as ‘dreams.’ Dreams are uncomfortable and confusing. Ambitions are optimistic and encouraging.
Which is why I get a slight feeling of uneasiness when I read Anais Nin’s quote, also scrawled on my journal’s hardcover:
“Dreams are necessary to life.”
Either I’m missing something in life, or I’m missing something in my dreams.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: broke, infertility, san francisco, sick, starting over, tower of power, writing
Last night’s drink: Xtremo [sic] Mango Gatorade
I’m writing from a hotel room in San Francisco where I am swollen with fertility hormones, fighting off a virus, broke and alone. Surprisingly, the worst aspect of this for me is that I’m not at home, but I guess all of the aspects are sort of interchangeable. If I weren’t broke, I could get myself out of bed to do something cool since the hotel is very close to Union Square. If I weren’t sick, I could get a lot of work done and catch up on my narcissistic blog. If I weren’t incubating my eggs, I could go for a jog along the bay or over these crazy hills. Instead, I’m sort of half-assing on all of the above. Taking walks through Chinatown, window shopping, and writing this post. Still, I feel optimistic.
This post has been a few weeks coming, but not because it has anything particularly poignant to say. It’s the first since Josh and I completely broke up. We each moved into new spaces, and are moving forward separately. So this blog marks the first in my re-entry into writing whatever I want, whenever I want without inhibition nor inquisition.
I’ve been cooking up some interesting activities already, but nothing is quite ready to serve. This week will mark one of the first dishes, though, as about 3 dozen of my eggs swell within me and eventually join the sperm of a man I’ll never meet. Outside of my body, I should add. I’m not close to ready to be a parent, more or less Octomom.
On the menu are stories of law enforcement, divas, coffee shops, high school reunions and flipping the bird. Maybe even a few hardline decisions mixed in for taste.
But for now, it’s time to get in the shower and tower above San Francisco’s Chinese, and otherwise.
After all, I’m still a young (wo)man.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: Blog World and, Blog World and New Media Expo, blogging, nablo, NaBloPoMo, SXSW, SXSW Interactive, twitter, vlogging, writing, YouTube
Last Night’s Drink: King Fish Merlot and some others that will go unmentioned.
To kick off the month of letting things go, I finally got over my trepidation for posting videos online, as is clearly evidenced in my submission for the free SXSW Interactive badge from Blog World and New Media Expo. You can see it in all its glory here. (And if you’re feeling so inclined, please retweet!)
I’m also exploring the world of 12 Second Video, though with arguably less flair than my YouTube venture. I’m having a hard time finding interesting things to talk about in a 12 second window of time. I like to expound, pontificate, elucidate — some of those words take 12 seconds just to say!
Maybe I need to implement something like a Na12PoMo (National 12 Seconds Posting Month) so that I’m motivated, incentivized and inspired to post there more.
Oh, how I do love the big words.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: blogging, Catholicism, horoscope, lent, NaBloPoMo, venting, wine, writing
Last Night’s Drink: Montes Malbec
Every month, around the first, I carry out two semi-personal rituals online: 1) I check my monthly horoscope by Susan Miller because she is the best; and 2) I read the NaBloPoMo theme and consider trying out the challenge once again.
The first time I sort of tried NaBloPoMo was in November of 2007, and I got a pretty good start going until Jenn and I met up for Vegas for a week. Then it quickly tapered off. I read yesterday that the theme for March’s NaBloPoMo was “Letting (Go),” in something of a nod to Lent. Since I have a lot of stuff to set free, and I’m a wanna-be Catholic anyway, it’s the perfect time for me to revive, and unload into, my blog.
So March will hopefully be chock full of posts that are not sacrificing quality for quantity. I’ll start today by telling February not to let the door hit its buns on the way out.
Better stock up on some wine!
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: books, characters, fiction, life, random, reading, thoughts, writing
This morning’s drink: Starbucks Sumatra
Karaoke and writing converge in my mind in one very basic way: I believe that everyone’s a singer, and everyone’s a writer. You don’t have to be good at something to be a something-”er”, you just have to do it. In a more existential way, maybe even the potential to do something is enough to make someone an “er.” Even kinetic energy gets factored into the equation.
So, like everyone, I’ve always considered writing a book. I’ve dabbled in some really bad short stories in the past, and always come full circle to a kaleidescope of frustrations: one dimensional characters, a plot that never blips above a flatline, lack of inspiration, and a wavering perseverance to get past all of the above. Almost out of nowhere, however, I ran into a character that I am starting to really enjoy. And she’s standing on a city corner, bathed in a streetlight, dressed sort of like Carmen Sandiego, looking straight at me, and pointing in the direction of a storyline.
She’s been doing this for a couple of weeks now, and I don’t even know her name. Feeling unprepared to go, however, I went to the library and picked up some books on writing fiction, and character development. I’m already halfway through Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, which is really very good, whether or not you are a writer.
It used to REALLY bother me when fiction writers would talk about their characters as if they were real people. That they’d worked with these people for years; that they’d really started to love them, and care for them; that they protected them… all of these things used to just seem creepy, and psychotic. And yet, here I am, inspired by a character, and practically aching to barf her out of my head.
And at this point, that’s really what it is. I’m not trying to quit my day job, or become famous and revered. I just want to write this – create something good – get it all out.
Cue Rockapella.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: changes, future, life, random, school, thoughts, writing
This morning’s drink: water.
My professor called me this weekend and told me that she wanted me to be co-editor of our school’s newspaper. Obviously I’m ecstatic. If we didn’t have such a small paper, I’m sure I wouldn’t be as much on the short list, but she told me that, despite my rough edges, she sees me doing great things, so maybe I’m wrong.
This is one of many abrupt and unexpected things to happen this month, and I’m glad to see February winding down. Good or bad news, quick changes mean quick adjustments, and my adaptability is proving a little sluggish with a 24 hour schedule such as this one.
For now, my editorial status is pro-tem, until the current editors graduate in June. But I have a lot of ideas and some hopefully good insights into how to make our paper something that students – maybe even people – actually want to read. I promise I’ll post links once I’ve had the reigns for a little while.
Things have changed a lot since I started this blog in October, and apparently they have only just begun. Stay tuned for what I hope will be some madness, jubilation, and some just plain crazy shite.
Apparently, I’m subconsciously targeting the broadcast department, too.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: deja vu, dreams, life, psychics, random, reporting, school, thoughts, writing
Last night’s drink: Diet Pepsi.
When I was waiting tables at the Jade Garden in Redding, I had a 60-something regular customer who ordered combination noodle soup, and was sort of obsessed with me. Coincidentally, he was also obsessed with astrology, and he took my birthdate, time of birth, and location of birth, and put together – what else – my astrological birth chart. He returned to the restaurant all excited, and talked me up about how my chart was very unique, because of the balance of the planets being shaped like a bowl… yadda yadda yadda.. and that I had psychic tendencies.
Now, part of me thought that, were he right, I would’ve seen all this coming. “You’re not psychic.. you’re just very intuitive,” he continued. Since my intuition was telling me that this guy was trying in some wierd way to get me into bed… I decided that he needed to find a new regular waitress.
The truth is, though, that what he said stuck with me a little – if for no other reason than my extreme bouts of deja vu. My deja vu isn’t such that I think I’ve done something before, but that I know I’ve dreamed about it before. I will have these vivid dreams about doing really benign things – like highlighting the elements of Faulty Emotional Appeal falacies in a a textbook while concurrently listening to George Noory talk to a caller about the mythical creatures he saw eating from his birdfeeder. Then, two-ish years later, I’ll be doing exactly what I’ve dreamed about. It’ll hit me, and I’ll stop for a second and think, “Woah… happened again,” but since the moment only lasts for 10 seconds or so, life goes on.
I don’t take these dreams and subsequent materializations as evidence that I’m psychic, but more that I’m in tune with whatever plan is laid out for me. It isn’t really destiny, just more of a “right” path. I find that when I’m doing what feels really right to me – like going back to school now – these deja vu moments occur more frequently. So far, I’ve had one for each class. I think they are just little affirmations that I’m going the right way. And for someone with a tragically poor sense of direction such as myself, it’s a welcome wierd-out.
Over five years ago, I opted to shirk the path of journalism for a higher purpose, which is how I finally decided to pursue non-governmental organizations in search of a greater good. While my affirmations were there during my time at UCSD, I think the path was right, but in a way that the greek gods, or whomever, were looking down and saying, “You’re getting warmer… warmer.” As I sat in class last night and watched behind the scenes documentaries of reporters at major events over the last decade, I could practically hear those same bodies screaming from above, “You’re hot – you’re white hot!”
This is so what I’m meant to do that it’s almost intimidating. This is finally where I’ll have connections with my professors, and soak up knowledge like a sponge. I know that every step I took to get here was necessary, and the next two years are sort of like my final exam for the prophetic dreams I’ve had. Now is the time to make it all real.
Don’t ask me about 2012, though.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: assholes, broke, coffee, life, optimism, random, school, work, writing
Last night’s drink: Vendange merlot.
You can tell by the steady decline in the quality of my alcohol that I’m still recovering from the financial blows of the holidays. That, and Wells Fargo is a business based on the highest grade of assholes alive. Don’t ever use them. EVER.
Despite having a only a few Washingtons to my name, I’m finding that I already have a lot to keep me occupied until the payday after rent. Thanks to my insider connection with a coffee roaster, I have at least a three-month supply of delicious coffee, which makes me feel better no matter what. I also have a lot of food in my fridge, thanks to the sustaining properties of peanut butter and jelly. I have makeup, nice clothes, and a flat iron, which help me to garner mood-lifiting compliments. I can clean my apartment, and cleanliness is next to godliness. I have full use of my legs, so I can walk to anywhere downtown, in Balboa Park, or bayside, where people watching is at a premium. I have paid my phone, internet and cable bills, so that’s set for a month. I am engulfed in a book that I love, which is the height of satisfaction. But mostly, I just have coffee. Without coffee, I wouldn’t be in the mood to appreciate everything else. Now I just need a friend in the wine business.
I started school at the beginning of this month, so I’ve been writing a lot, just not in here. Jenn said that she missed my blog, and I really appreciate that. The funny thing is that I’m still getting a lot of hits – mostly from people googling the term “crossdresser” (in reference to my “Pink Swoon” post from October). There are some pretty interesting blogs out there from crossdressers. Some of those might even be just as entertaining without coffee.
Going back to school has renewed my outlook on life, and on myself. I feel accomplished again, and intelligent, and that I truly do have talents and contributions to make to the world. I can overlook the assholes at work, and recognize that they don’t mean anything to me. The light at the end of my current job is not much farther away than the end of December – or June, if I decide to scrap it all and start waiting tables again. Even with the decrease in pay, I have a feeling I’d be happier overall. I’d definitely have more to write about.
In the meantime, though, I’ll keep looking for satisfaction in free activities, such as walking into the nearest Wells Fargo branch and flipping off the personal bankers, one by one.
I mean… watching the birds. With coffee.
