KirstenL4W

I am having a major dilemma.  I have no idea what to do with my hair for the wedding.  I’m not completely sold on the idea of having a veil - I kinda like the way it felt when I had the samples on in the store, but I definitely did not like the idea of paying for it.  Bridal shop veils are expensive, people!  I need to peruse the craft shops to see what their DIY offerings are, but otherwise I have no idea what to do with my hair.

My hair has some natural wave/curl to it, but mostly has a mind of its own - very often I get the stick straight piece where i least want it.  It gets very heavy, so I keep it in a shorter cut, just past the shoulders, and layers in it to keep it from getting plastered down under its own weight.  My everyday style is to throw some mousse in it to keep it from getting frizzy, then walk out the door.  I don’t own a hair dryer, curling iron, straightening iron, or gallons of fancy products.  Since my hair very much has a mind of its own, I find that the more time I spend on my hair, the worse it looks.  For my own sanity, I let my hair have its way.  There are days (most days) when my hair just bothers me too much, so I’ll pull the top and sides back in a clip, or it goes up in a loose, messy half-pulled-through ponytail, with all the frizzy bits and cowlicks throwing themselves out there for all the world to see.  If I decide to put my hair up in the morning, I do it while it’s still wet, and plaster the rest of it down with some mousse or gel.  The “light and fluffy” on top look does not happen with me, unless I want my hair falling out.

Now for my dress.  I’m already a bit worried that it doesn’t go too well, but whatever.   I’m wearing an actual corset (black!), so there will be lots of lacing in the back, and a pouffy skirt with lots of gathering to make it look even fuller. So, I think that whatever I do, it needs to be simple.  I do NOT want a tiara, and I’m kinda turned off by the idea of anything with rhinestones/crystals/bling.  I’ve cruised the IndieBride boards to no avail.  I don’t want anything hanging in front of my face - that’s the reason why my hair is always going up, so it can stay out of my face.  But I don’t know what to do for this occasion.  My hairdresser is on vacation and I will need to be doing my own hair, with every bit of hairdressing talent that I do not possess.  So, any thoughts?

I went into work today feeling pretty much the same way I felt when I left Friday, except I was a lot more tired. I obviously was not wanting to be there. My brain kept spinning all day, trying to get through my mindless busy work and not have the day last 80 hours. I kept coming back to crafting. When I go into a craft store, I am drawn to the papers. There are such beautiful scrapbook papers, along with all sorts of other bits and bobs that go along with it. I love the handmade papers especially. But I don’t want to scrap. First of all, everyone else is doing it, and second of all, I prefer to display my photos in a more streamlined, less cute manner. Sorry for all you people who love scrapping and cute stuff, but it’s just not me, nor is jumping on the bandwagon. So while I don’t want to create scrapbook pages, I do see a lot of value in the items sold in the scrap stores.

What I have been drawn to in particular, for a long time, is collage. I love how a collage can have so many facets to it, that you can look at it over and over again and still keep discovering new aspects of it. But there’s only so much one can do on a flat surface, and I’d want to do something a bit more interesting in addition to more 2-dimensional things. So that brings me to assemblage art. - basically, collage in 3-D. If you’re looking for examples of it, you can also look up altered art or mixed media. Now this stuff can be interesting. It can also be very garish - does anyone remember the large doll wall art piece that Phoebe had on Friends? Yeah, I’m not looking to go there. But I want to do something. I love collecting little pieces of things, thinking that I could do something with them someday, though I’ve really curbed this habit because I never knew what to do with these things or where to put them in the meantime. But I want to create.

Adding to the inspiration are beautiful pieces that my imaginary internet friends like to create - such as the Convergence that Crowjoy has on her Etsy shop or the Midnight Moon Pendant that Pollyhyper created. I’m not so much into creating jewelry, I just don’t have the patience needed for crafting on such a small scale, but it just gives you an idea of all the possibilities. So I figured, perhaps I should try to make a few things, give them as gifts, and see where it goes from there. At worst, a couple people have some, um, lovely tchotchke handmade by moi. If all goes well it might spur me to put more time into my creations and even open an Etsy shop. But I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself. One thing at a time.

Once the thought of doing a few of these for gifts and seeing how it goes from there got into my head, I was a lot calmer. There’s no guarantee for success, but it gives me a creative outlet. Don’t get me wrong - I love my blog, but it’s not exactly a tangible thing. And you may have noticed that I really enjoy participating in mix CD exchanges, and that’s satisfying, but not on the same level. So crafty it is.

I bought a book and a couple things after work today - some stickers and a sheet of scrap paper - to start implementing the ideas I had in my head. For my lab rats, I have two specific people in mind, and two very different themes, as these two people are on completely opposite ends of the spectrum as far as where their interests lie. It should be fun, and if the ideas work out the way I want them to and I end up with a completed object, I’ll be sure to post photos so everyone can check them out.

An extremely inebriated me, courtesy of Boyfriend’s birthday present of Grey Goose Vodka. Boyfriend keeps laughing at me for some odd reason. Anyway…

I went into work feeling pretty good today. First of all, it’s Friday, so that in itself is a good thing. Plus, I was still high from the success of Boyfriend’s birthday celebration last night. Yes, his birthday was yesterday, but I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone. I still managed to pull it off. I’ll detail that in another post, though - hopefully tomorrow.

Anyway, I’m at work, doing the menial shit that I do, and something happens to burst my bubble. On the one hand, I like my job because I do mindless busy work all day. I’m very good at mindless busy work, and it’s very low stress. On the other hand, I have to deal with my superiors who I feel don’t really know my full value. I am constantly questioned about how much work I have to do and how I’m keeping up with it. Here’s a hint - my inbox is empty. I always have things that people ask for - if I couldn’t produce these things, I wouldn’t be doing my job. It’s that simple. My desk is not a mess. So what’s the problem? Apparently, because I am in a clerical position, I am not supposed to have an IQ of over 80. Now, I’ve not been professionally evaluated, but various online quizzes, both simple and in-depth, put my IQ at around 125. So it’s not that I’m overqualified for my job. Well, maybe just a little bit. But I’m way over intelligent for my job. This is where the problem lies.

I have never really been in a job that I haven’t done extremely well at. But I also haven’t really been in a job that I’ve been really passionate about. Talking with most people, Boyfriend included, I get the idea that it doesn’t matter so much about what the job is or how much I like it, as long as the paycheck has lots of zeros on it I should be happy. Well, that’s not me. I want enough to pay the bills, sure, and enough to do a few things outside of work that I want to do, like eat and maybe buy a CD once in awhile, but the paycheck is not what I live for. Think about it. If I’m going to spend most of my waking time working, shouldn’t I enjoy that work? Shouldn’t I get some sort of satisfaction from that job beyond my bank deposits? I think so. So why is it that despite the fact that I am good at nearly everything I have tried thus far, I do not like most of it?

Take retail, for example. Retail jobs vary wildly in what is being sold and the clientele that the product or service is being sold to. I know that I do not care at all for commission positions. No matter how much I like the product, knowing that there are quotas that I need to meet kind of kill the passion for me. But knowing my product, knowing it well and enjoying it to some degree are all things I like, as are making the customer happy with that knowledge. But everyone knows that retail hours suck, as does the pay. Unless you are in management, in which case you get much better money and way more regular hours, but you don’t get to work with the customers as much unless you are the last ditch effort to placate them. So that kills retail for the most part.

I got burned out on retail, so I decided to get into office work. I started with a temp agency and kinda floated my way around the admin assistant world, where I still wander aimlessly. I like admin work to a certain degree. I like being the indespensible person who is the “glue that holds the office together.” (I think one of my old bosses said that once, when I worked for a graphic design firm.) I like being the one, a la Jennifer on WKRP in Cincinnati, who doesn’t seem to do much of anything but has the office totally fall apart when not there.

I also noticed that I like being in a somewhat creative environment, which allows me to be my regular wacky (though somewhat closeted wacky) self. I wrote about more creative desires a few months back. My feelings haven’t changed much. I still have very creative inspirations, however pent-up they may be. I have creative desires, though I don’t know much what I want to do with them. I like fabrics, because it’s a very tactile thing. I would love to sew my own clothes and have everyone ask who the designer is - not be that person who looks so obvious that they only know one pattern when they sew their own stuff. I like paper crafts - not scrapbookking so much, because those who know me know how I feel about jumping on the popularity bandwagon. I feel more drawn to cardmaking and collage stuff. I like little bits and bobs, and scraps of stuff and imagining how they will all go together - and this is where I get stuck. I can’t quite seem to turn the ideas that are in my head into a tangible object that someone might actually want, and maybe, just maybe, even want to pay money for.

Right now I am working in the finance department of a big company, whose name and industry shall remain nameless for the sake of my job security. I am a clerk. Myself and one other clerk that I work closely with are the lowest common denominators in the entire finance department, as far as I can tell. Everyone else does actual finance stuff. I am still there on a temp-to-perm basis, and going perm would be nice. The company has good benefits of which I would like to take advantage. They have educational reimbursement, and ever since the hell of setting up a company in Quickbooks, like I did in my previous job despite the lack of any accounting education or real experience, I found that accounting would be a safe and practical vocation to get into. So the plan is to stay where I’m at, get shit on daily, and eventually get hired so I can actually take advantage of their benefits. I’ll get my accounting degree on their dime, already have my foot in the door and be friends with everyone in the department so I can learn as much as possible, and then, um, do something with the degree. Not sure yet. Accounting bored me silly in college, but that was all classroom and no practical experience. Now I find I am good at it when I can put it into practice, and like it ok, but there are so many facets to accounting. Cost? A/P? A/R? Corporate taxes? Personal taxes? Audit? Revenue? General Ledger? Which one do I choose and why? Do I fall into one because the job is offered or will one of those actually hit me in the head and say, “Hey, shithead, THIS is the facet of the accounting world that you will excel at, be deliriously happy at, and make lots of money at!” I just don’t see that happening. So how do I get myself psyched up for that kind of career?

I read at Aurelius’s New Direction today a post entitled What’s Your Specialty? I swear, someone out there is reading my mind, or at least living a parallel life to mine. I have not specialized in anything. I started working retail because that’s what most kids in high school and college do to earn some cash. It was ok, and I stayed at it even after I graduated college. College, by the way, was a study in existence rather that goal-achieving. I started out as a candidate for an assiociate’s degree in interior design, based on my monthly spending on interior decorating magazines and books and lack of spending on fashion magazines. I drank too much first semsester and stumbled around a bit. Second semester, I decided to major in the only class I passed - business. Small business management, to be exact. Good skills to have, if you know what kind of business you want to run. But along with business came balance sheet and accounting stuff that I couldn’t grasp as long as it was conceptual and not practical. So after bullshitting my way through an English Lit final, I convinced myself along with the professor that I wanted to be an English teacher. I finished up my last two semester of the two-year college as a Liberal Arts major, transferred to a four-year school as a double English/education major, and all of a sudden - I felt like I was in the wrong life. So very wrong, it was overwhelming and my life had taken on this echo-like outside looking in feeling, like I had been reincarnated in the wrong life. So I quit school and continued on with my supermarket retail life.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah. How the hell do you people do it, day in and day out? Are you passionate about your jobs, or more passionate about the paychecks? I have a theory that people who bring home the bacon in a big way do actually really like what they do. Either that or they like being a miserable, backstabbing ass just so they can get ahead in whatever their mind determines to be ahead, but that’s not me. I want to be happy. I just haven’t figured out how to do that, at least career-wise, without losing what I already have. I can’t afford to take a step backwards. I still have bills to pay. I want to really enjoy my time at work as much as I enjoy my time off work, and I don’t want to do that with any mind-numbing, zen like exercises that my Dad taught me, the same ones he uses to deal with my stepmother and other idiots in his life. No, I want organic on the job happiness, enough of a paycheck to live off of and be able to adequately enjoy my off time, and perhaps another drink.

If you are a list freak, check out 1001 Lists You Must Read Before You Die.

There’s a few things on my mind today that I’d like to rant about. So, here goes:

Public Bathrooms

I can only speak about these from a one-sided point of view, as I have never been desperate enough to use a men’s restroom, and I most certainly have not spent enough time in one to notice the peculiar habits that men have when using the restroom. So, this rant will apply to the ladies restroom only.

Why is it that women are soooo concerned with putting the little paper on the seat before they sit down? Even then, I still hear the grunts from women trying to balance as they hover over the seat, trying their darndest not to touch it with their ass. I know what they’re thinking. They’re afraid of germs. In some public bathrooms this is a valid concern - gas stations and a certain bus station in upstate New York that I once used out of sheer desperation and bad timing. But in most public restrooms, this isn’t a big deal. If there are droplets, just wipe them with some TP before sitting down. But a toilet seat is by far NOT the germiest thing you’ll come across in your day to day life. Ever wonder what’s hiding in your kitchen sponge - the one you clean baby’s highchair with?

Now, these same women who are so concerned with germs that they cannot let their bare asses touch a tissue paper covered toilet seat lest they be stricken ill with a mysterious, deadly disease are also the same women who faux-wash their hands when they are done. I can tell. I sit inside the stall and listen to you run the water for 3 seconds. Wetting your hands under cold water is not the same as washing them. I know you want out of this dirty, dirty place, but come on now. Use some fucking soap, and wash like your Momma taught you how. No wonder you all use a paper towel to open the door. Since none of you actually used soap to wash, the germs are all on your hands. At least you got that idea right - but you wouldn’t need to use the paper towel at all if everyone washed their hands properly.

Pet Causes

I’m not talking about causes for your pet. I’m not even talking about causes that people believe in for legitimate reasons. I’m talking about being obligated to support a cause. Why does something have to become my cause just because someone close to me was affected?

My Mom recently was diagnosed with breast cancer and had a mastectomy. She’s doing fine now, and as far as I know she will not need any further treatment besides more frequent screenings of her remaining bewb (she had her left one replaced with a faux bewb). I know my mom has been a bit upset at what appears to her to be a lack of concern, but Mom, nothing could be further from the truth. It scared the shit out of me. I dealt with it in my own way, but that way was not and is not plastering pink ribbons all over the place and trying to convince anyone who will listen that this is THE cause to be involved in. First of all, I hate pink. And I hate proselytizing. People aren’t going to become more aware of an issue just because someone else says so. They become more aware because they or someone close to them has been affected. So I make sure I get regular checkups and do my monthly self-test, which Boyfriend is more than happy to help out with.

Also in the same vein, having a cousin and a foster brother who are autistic does not make me want to put a multi-colored puzzle patterned ribbon on my car. WTF is that? Were all the other colors taken, so Autism Awareness just used them all? I’m aware of autism, and I’m aware of how both my cousin and my brother have very different needs. No one knows with any certainty what causes it, so all we can do is be aware. But again, people aren’t going to be aware unless it’s something that affects them personally in one way or another. As for other people who come across my cousin and brother, we just explain to them on an as needed basis (as in, not to every freaking person they come across) why they aren’t the same as you and me.

September 11

Today is the anniversary of the attacks. I suspect in a few more years it will be known as “World Trade Center Day” (totally forgetting that other locales were also affected), much in the way that December 7 is Pearl Harbor Day. But why oh why do I need to have television programs about that day on tv for a week before and after? Why is there nothing else to watch? They tell us not to forget. Believe me, I never will. The events of that day were seared into my brain with a branding iron. By why do I have to get all nostalgic and sad every September 11 for the rest of my days? Why the hell can’t I just live my life and have a decent day? If I want to go to a movie and laugh, what’s stopping me? Memorials are one thing, but every tv station showing documentaries about it and being looked at like I’m a terrorist because I don’t stop for the requsite moment of silence isn’t doing anyone any favors. It’s been impossible to forget on the other 364 days of the year. Going about my business as usual on this day doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten. It just means that I’m not letting it get the best of me.

The Hours in the Day

There just aren’t enough of them to go around. Seriously, 24? Is that all? Whose crummy idea was that? And who the heck came up with the 5 day workweek? Because it seriously cuts into my personal time.

Now that I’ve wasted your time, you can now return to your regularly scheduled programming, which has been pre-empted for the latest 9/11 documentary.

“Anything I’ve ever done that ultimately was worthwhile…initially scared me to death.” - Betty Bender

There’s something that’s been weighing on my mind lately. Last night, I went to my apartment to get some packing done, but also to have a chance to be alone with my thoughts. I love Boyfriend and I love spending time with him, and I really do want to spend every minute of the day with him. But I am one who also needs some alone time, and I’ve been forgetting about that until it gets to a point where it becomes a critical need. So I went to my apartment last night, packed, wrote in my journal, cried, packed some more, and watched some TV that I had saved on my DVR.

Yes, I cried. Not because I am upset at all about the decision to move in with Boyfriend. I’m not, but I will admit to this: I am scared. Yes, that’s right. Scared. I said previously that I have never lived with anyone in this capacity before. My entire adult life I have spent carving out a place for myself, learning not to rely on anyone and creating a comfortable place for myself. I grew so comfortable with my aloneness (not to be confused with loneliness) that in the past few years, I shunned all efforts to find myself a partner. I was not lonely. I have friends, companions, and I made sure that I had everything that I needed. The only thing I did not do to confirm my impending spinsterhood was to get a cat. I was actually worried that being on my own and alone for so long may have messed up my chances for ever being able to have a successful relationship. Yes, my thoughts ran away from me and I actually got to thinking that perhaps I was meant to be alone.

So now, here I am today, on the verge of living with a wonderful man for a very, very long time, and it’s got me scared sh!tless. There are so many things that I need to adjust to, so many habits to relearn, so many attitudes to change if I want to make this work. When I got home last night I broke down and cried again. This has been bogging down my mind for the last few days, and I really debated on whether or not to tell him. I didn’t want it to be taken the wrong way, and I still needed to sit on it a little bit to sort it out in my head and to articulate my feelings properly. But I finally decided that telling him was best. And do you know what? He is having the same feelings. He’s also grown used to having his own space, having things his way, and doing things for himself. His fears are very similar to mine. He just keeps it together so much better than I do.

I am in the middle of a lot of upheaval right now. My apartment is half packed up, and I haven’t spent the night at home in a month. I still only have the basics at Boyfriend’s house - enough clothing for a little over a week, and some toiletries. So it’s not yet been transformed into our space. Living like that for so long now has got me - a person with a seemingly insatiable need for alone time and private space - really freaked out. But I will get through, and this will be so worth it. I’m really happy that the Boyfriend is the kind of person that I can talk through this sort of thing with.

I don’t consider myself a particularly creative person. I do appreciate creativity, though. One job I had for a few years was as a receptionist in a graphic design studio. I loved going to work every day and seeing the work the artists were producing. I loved that the creative mind carried over into the decor of the office. And I loved that I was able to express myself however I wished.

In high school, I was in the Art Club. I didn’t produce much, but it was a lot of fun walking around the art rooms, seeing what everyone was doing, and talking to them. I did a few mediocre paintings and made a pinch pot with pottery (since trying my hand at the spinning wheel wasn’t exactly successful). I think my mom still has that pinch pot somewhere.

I’ve tried my hand at various crafts. For quite some time I’ve found myself drawn to paper crafts - particularly card making. I don’t care as much for stamping, just paper. I love feeling papers, with all the different textures, materials, and prints. I used to work in a wallpaper store, but that’s another post. Right now, I have some card-making materials and I need to make a card for someone who is having babies (yes, babies. Twins!)

I also love photography. I don’t think I’m very good at it, but some people (including VegasRic, who is a professional photographer) have told me otherwise. And Boyfriend mentioned today that when he gets his tax return he wants to buy Photoshop. I can just see myself spending hours and hours and hours on there playing with it to see what I can come up with. Adobe Elements has been on my list, which is a much less expensive and watered down version of Photoshop. It’s more to my budget. I’m already imagining the possibilities. I’ve been participating in quite a few mix exchanges lately, and trying to make the cover art has been difficult without some sort of software to manipulate photos. Thank goodness for VegasRic and his mad skills for the V-Cat Version 2.07.

I’ve also been thinking about pursuing a more creative field of work. I’d love to study graphic design. I think I’d be better at the more technical aspects of it rather than the creative. I really appreciate creativity and know good work when I see it, but I am pretty much incapable of producing it myself. The technical aspects I tend to pick up right away, so I’d like to learn that. Someday, perhaps, someday. For now I’ll just wait for Boyfriend to get Photoshop and play with that, then see what happens.

Quote taken from Creative Juices website.

Every now and then I think about starting over. I start to feel burdened down by what I have and where I am, and I feel the need to start fresh, usually in a new location. I’m going through that right now. Vegas feels old and stale, especially with the heat of the summer well on its way. It’s 7:40pm as I write this, and 82ºF outside. We had one or two weeks of spring, and now summer has arrived. But more than that I think about somewhere a bit more refreshing, with greenery, water, and an end in sight when the oppressive heat hits. I think about a smaller town, a slower pace, a simpler way of life. I think about shedding myself of many of the possessions weighing me down.

I sold a lot of things when I sold my condo to move to Vegas, but acquired new things to replace it as I settled in here. Now it seems like I have more than I did than before I sold it all. I’m starting to feel the urge to not only downsize a bit, but swap some of my things for simpler, multi-functional pieces. For example, I have my home theater pieces that I bought about 7 years ago when my boom box crapped out on me. So now, while I have a very decent system, I have separate pieces for the receiver, CD player, DVD player, VCR, cable box, and 5 relatively large, obvious speakers. If I had to do it again today, I would choose something more multi-purpose and less obtrusive, like this. And (I should add this to my to-do list) I would be more vigilant about finding someone with a VCR/DVD recorder combo to burn to DVD those last few movies I have on VHS that aren’t available on DVD.

I’d get rid of so much of those little things I have that I know I really don’t need. I’d be more organized so that I don’t need so much stuff. I dream of having a home as organized and uncluttered as the magazines. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a total clutterbug. I do have a lot of stuff, but it is organized - somewhat.

I’m also feeling the desire to redecorate. I really don’t need to, but I’ve had the same stuff for so long now. My shower curtain and bathroom scheme I’ve had for 7 years now, since I bought the stuff when I first had my condo back east. My bedroom set I bought 4 years ago when I moved here, and while I still love it, I want something a bit fresher - and a bit more ME. Something like this, perhaps. That look certainly doesn’t fit in here in Vegas, in the millions of homes that all look the same with their stucco façade. And that brings me to my next point.

When I first started this blog, I did it with the intention of sorting stuff out and figuring out where my next move was to be. I think that “what next” feeling hits a lot of us - I know Macoosh has been struggling with similar feelings lately. Last summer, when I went back east to visit the family, I was overwhelmed with feelings of wanting to move back there. But not long after my vacation was over, I finally found myself a social life here in Vegas. For those who have never lived here, Vegas is a very tough town to make friends in. When one goes away to college, they say that second semester is when you meet your real friends. In Vegas, it’s not unusual for it to take 2-3 years. Anyway, once I made friends here, I became much more comfortable with the idea of staying here. But I still know that Vegas is not forever. Sooner or later, I will move.

And then there’s the question of where. Three places in particular come to mind. One would be the obvious answer of moving back home. While I do love my family, I do also need my space, so Portland, Maine would be a nice compromise. It’s got a lower cost of living than any of the other major cities in New England without being totally isolated from the rest of New England. Then there’s the idea of living closer to my sister. Florida keeps coming up, and I have enjoyed my time visiting my sister and also my cousin. I’m not sure I would want to live in either of the areas that they live in, but the sandy, salty air that is prevalent all throughout the state is intoxicating. And last but not least, there is the ever-present appeal of the corn-fed wholesomeness of the midwest, specifically Iowa. Not sure what’s drawing me there, especially since I’ve never been there, but the thought will not leave my mind. Therefore, it is a thought worth exploring when the time comes to decide where to go.

It’s definitely food for thought, but for now I think I’ll focus on one thing at a time.

Just bear with me, this tends to happen when I let my thinking take over. Ten points to anyone who can name every song.

What a challenge, honesty
What a struggle to learn to speak
Who’d have thought that pretending was easier

I can’t find a way to stay
And I can’t see my way to go
But I can’t give up without a fight

So that was just a little bit that’s been in my head. You know how it is when just a few lines of a tune are in your head, over and over again? That’s the way it is now.

Gah. Enough music. Time for bed.

I drove, didn’t necessarily clear my head but I did get some thinking done. Not sure I accomplished anything with this thinking, but it was needed nonetheless. As I was driving towards Mesquite, I remembered when I drove in to Las Vegas on that road for the very first time. I want to go back home, but there’s so much standing in my way. I can’t afford to go home, I have too much credit card debt and moving right now won’t do anything to help that. I have no savings to speak of. I’m in the middle of trying to find a new job right now, and there are two possible scenarios facing me right now. I’ll either get a job that pays similar to what I make now, which means I continue working 2 jobs just to keep my head above water. By the time I pay off my credit card and save enough to move back home, I’m an AARP member. Either that or I get a job that pays me enough to pay off the card quickly and save a decent amount of money, but then I won’t want to leave because a job with that kind of pay would be a great career move and I’ll want to milk it for everything it’s worth. I’m stuck, and I hate being stuck. Boo is getting baptized in just a few short hours. I miss being there for stuff like that. And my social life, after over 3 years is picking up and I want to meet people. True friends will be my friends no matter where in the world I go, but if I resign myself to moving soon then I don’t make any friends and live my last months in Vegas as a lonely and depressed person. I just don’t want to do that right now. I want to be social, I want to meet men and flirt. The Man, I really want to flirt with him but the way things have been going in his life I feel like if I do say something flirtatious I’ll be saying the totally wrong thing. I think I did the other night, and it bugged me. I thought we were when we first met, but right now we are so not on the same wavelength and I really want to be. I didn’t cry tonite on my drive. I haven’t really cried in a while, except for the day I turned in my resignation. I’m afraid to cry lately, I just can’t do it. For someone who wears their emotions on their sleeve, that is so not like me. I think it has to do with the anxiety. I used to be able to have a good healthy cry and let it all out, and be able to differentiate that from an anxiety attack. Ever since I started taking the Paxil I haven’t had a good healthy cry. I don’t like that. I’ve still had anxiety attacks since being on it, when I was oversleeping and running out the door wtihout taking it. At first I didn’t mind, but now I hate being on it. I just want to experience all my emotions again, and I don’t feel like I am. But the withdrawal. Oh man, if I had an attack after 2 days of forgetting then trying to go off completely is gonna suck. I’ve heard that from so many people that have taken it. But I’m gonna try, and I guess just pray a lot that I don’t have any attacks or other withdrawal symptoms. I split all my pills - my doc moved me up to 20mg a few months ago but I don’t think it really did a darn thing, so I split them all to 10mg. Then after this bottle I’ll take a 10mg every other day, since I can’t split the pills more than once. We’ll see how things go but after that I think I’ll just phase it out completely. I also think it contributed to my weight gain. I did so well when I moved here, I lost about 15lbs going to Curves, then I got a life here and worked too much and never really got back into the swing of it. I want to go back. The regular gym I hated and cancelled my membership. If I had more free time and of course more money I’d go back to Curves. I gained almost 20lbs since starting the Paxil last year and I’ve read online that weight gain can be one of the side effects. I just don’t want to be on any drugs - except the acid reflux one, but that’s ok because it’s not gonna mess with my head. Drama drama drama, I’m sure you all think it’s so dramatic. I don’t want it to be. I just went through a bout last year when I thought I needed it - I was depressed and it probably had to do more with my feeling stuck than anything else. I hate feeling stuck - have I ever mentioned that? I don’t like feeling like I can’t do what I want in this worled because I’m tied in by circumstances. I still want to go home, but I don’t want to feel like a failure. Blah blah blah, too much stream of consciousness writing here. It’s more the type of stuff I put in my journal, but I don’t journal much anymore. I prefer typing to writing. Besides, as tired as I am right now I don’t think I’ll write anything legible. At least here I’ll still be able to read what I put down.

Every now and then, there comes a time in life that, well, shakes things up big time. Sometimes it’s voluntary, sometimes it’s not, and sometimes it’s just due to serendipity. For me, right now I think it’s a bit of all three.

First of all, you all must have read by now about the new church building. What an awesome thing! I’m still looking forward to growing into the new space and watching our congregation grow.

Probably the biggest thing right now is (sit down) that I am looking for a new job. I turned in my resignation last night. That’s right folks, you heard me correctly. I will not longer be working for this company. Why, you ask? Well, see, it just got to a point where I can no longer grow in the direction I want to with this company. The old brick wall. I want to do more, to go further, and it’s been frustrating to not have that opportunity, even as the business grows. So Mad Scientist and I discussed it and we both decided that it would be the best thing for both of us. Even though the frustration at hitting that wall, or ceiling, has affected my performance, Mad Sci still recognizes my strengths and has no problem providing a good reference to help me succeed in the ways that I can. So, since I do not currently have a job lined up yet, I am pounding the pavement, or the keyboard if you will, to find another job. To make sure that I leave no stone unturned, if anyone is looking for an efficient and organized administrative assistant in Las Vegas, please let me know. I will gladly forward my resume.

Now, The Man. I’m sure you are all wondering. Ha. Right now we are developing a friendship, which is the most important basis of all relationships. Who knows what will happen in the future, but the friendship is off to a solid start. To those who might think that well, maybe he doesn’t like you or whatever, I say phooey. I know what the ad said when I answered it, and like I said, a friendship is the basis for what he was seeking from the ad. If you can’t be friends, then what can you be? Yes, I like him. Yes, I would like to see it go further. So far he has shown himself to be honest, open, caring, supportive, hardworking, and I certainly hope that whatever he his looking for in a friendship or more, he can find in me. I can only be myself and see what happens.

Thinking about it on a larger scale, I also recognize that sometimes certain people come into our lives for only a short time, and for a good reason. A decade or so ago I met one of those people. She came from my ancestral land and we quickly developed a friendship, and not just because we had a cultural heritage in common. She was a few years older, wiser, well traveled and had a more grounded, philosophical outlook on life. In my early 20s, I certainly needed that. She was in this country for about 5 months, and then went home. We stayed in touch, and a year later, after much turmoil in my life, both inner and outer, the opportunity arose for me to go visit her. I quickly jumped on it, making plans to be out of my life for a month while I went to visit her in Sweden, then taking some time to myself to travel to Paris and London. I don’t know of anyone who has taken a trip around Europe, staying with friends and in hostels, that can honestly say it hasn’t changed their life in one way or another. But I digress. The point is, after I got home and got stuck in the depression of wanderlust and trying to figure out what to do with my life, I somehow let it slip my mind to write her and stay in touch. It was nearly 6 months later that it finally dawned on me that I hadn’t even written to say thank you. I felt like such a dolt, and sent a letter off to her poste haste. She never replied. I was upset for awhile, but I have come to terms that she was in my life for only a short time to help me have opportunities that I would not have otherwise had.

After that trip, I spent many years wondering what the heck to do with my life. I really wanted to move somewhere far away, and I put a lot of time and effort into trying to figure out how to take things in that direction. After much thought and nothing feeling right, I shelved the idea. The main reason was that I felt too much like I was running away from something, and I didn’t want to run like that. It took me years to figure out that I need to go TO something, and what that something was. As it turns out, there are two Kirstens. (I am a Gemini, you know.) The first Kirsten is the one that everyone sees - a bit homely, lacking confidence and self esteem, with a pleaser personality. The second Kirsten is the one that exists in my head. She’s the Kirsten I want to be, that I imagine myself being. She’s confident, successful, and happy. As I revisited this thought process about moving, it occured to me that if I move far away, away from the external pressures of everyone’s expectations of me, that I might be able to reconcile those two Kirstens into one real being. I’m getting close. I don’t know how close; I think it will always be a struggle. But I like who I’m becoming. Moving to Vegas, something no one ever expected out of me, had a hand in that, as has moving away from my family and all my support systems. At this point, more than 3 years after moving to this neon jungle, I’m fairly certain what I want my next move to be. Being here is preparing me for the appreciation of that place that I will need to be happy. But I’m not ready to leave yet - not today.

The Man, I think, is part of that journey to reconcile my two parts into one being. The thoughts we have shared, the things we have in common, and the existential struggles we are going through make me believe that. Right now, I am hoping that he will be a part of my life for a long time. But if that is not what is to be, then he has already helped me so much, by being supportive and caring and a calming influence when I was upset about ending my tenure with my current employer. In a city where one does not have a lot of close friendships, where they are hard to come by because everyone is coming and going so often, he came along at just the right time. I hope we can continue being friends and explore those common interests, and grow ourselves personally with the support of each other.

Ok, I need to step back into the here and now. I need to get back on track and look for a new job here. I’ve got phone calls to make, resumes to email, want ads to read. And I need to stay awake because I have to work tonite, and I only got 2 hours sleep last night.

Sorry I’ve not been posting as much lately. I just feel like my brain is full and I can’t even think. It will soon pass, I hope, because I hate the thought of not feeling like posting here.

My sister is on total bed rest. She’s just entering her 6th month, and she’s got pubic symphysis separation. This painful condition first reared its ugly head when Messy J was born 7 years ago. During delivery, she felt a massive pain way worse than she should have, and had trouble walking and doing anything for the next few weeks. Now that she’s pregnant again, she’s been increasingly uncomfortable until she got into a car accident last week. She had the green light and started to go when some kid in a pickup rand the crossing red and t-boned her. That really aggravated her discomfort, and a doctor’s visit yesterday confirmed that it’s separated again. She’s been ordered to total bed rest and is bored silly. She doesn’t have internet, cable, or even a vcr or dvd player in her bedroom, so she’s quickly going beserk and she’s gonna take me with her, because she keeps calling me. I don’t mind talking to her once in awhile, but this is too many conversations with not enough substance. To help her for a day or two, I’ve decided to start putting together a Bed Rest Survival Kit to send to her. She just wants sympathy right now, so that will help.

I’ve been feeling very unmotivated lately. I have things around the house to do that I just don’t feel like doing, and even computer things that I don’t feel like doing. I’ve been wanting to clean up my bookmarks for the longest time, especially since I began blogging and have added tons more. But I just don’t feel like it. I’m still not worried about that too much at this point, because these things usually come in waves, and soon the motivational wave will be back. I just hope it’s back in time to do laundry and dishes.

So, since I don’t feel like doing much, I’m gonna aimlessly wander around the web for a little while longer before I go totally brain dead in front of the tv. Hopefully I’ll be back to interesting posts again soon.

Every generation seems to have their moment. Where were you when Pearl Harbor was bombed? Where were you when Kennedy was shot? Where were you when the Challenger Space Shuttle blew up? (I remember that one vividly.) And where were you on September 11, 2001?

It was a Tuesday, and I started my work day as usual at the graphic design firm. Just before 9am, my FedEx delivery guy came in and told me a plan hit one of the buildings at the World Trade Center. I was thinking it was a smaller plane, like when the Empire State Building got hit many decades ago. I went online to get the news, but was only finding one-line breaking news updates, since the news was so new. Then, after the rest of the office went into their morning meeting, Jules called from home (she was still on maternity leave) and wanted to speak to Joey. I told her she was in the meeting, and Jules told me that a plane hit the WTC. I said I knew about it. She said, no, it was another one, the other building, on live tv. I could not believe my ears. I was trying to get online to read the news, but every single website that had news was busy and I could not get on. ABC, NBC, CBS, even BBC, CBC, ABC Australia - all jammed. Couldn’t get on a single one.

I didn’t have a radio in my office, so I tried to get online to the local talk news station to stream their broadcast, but I couldn’t get that either. Then I just decided to stream my regular radio station. They were playing a few songs, then would update on the situation. One tower hit. Then another. Then the Pentagon. Then a tower fell. Then another plan was hijacked and on its way to Washington DC. Every time they updated the news, something else had happened. I felt like the whole world was coming to an end. I was really wishing we had some sort of tv reception or cable at the office so I could watch the news. Then around 10am, one of the bosses came in and told me we were closing. By this time my head was spinning. I lived alone and didn’t want to go home and make myself crazy watching the news all day, so I called my aunt and told her I was coming over.

As I left work and headed to my aunt’s house, I was listening to the radio. It was only mid-morning, but by this time very few stations were playing music anymore. One station played “Imagine” by John Lennon. I really feared I would not make it to my aunt’s house, that this was the apocolypse. The hardest thing was not knowing. I mean, I knew what was happening, but as someone who best processes information when it’s received visually, I still felt like I didn’t know. I needed to see the tv and see for myself.

The tv was on, alright. I went with my aunt to pick up Pickle from school. The schools allowed parents to pick their kids up, but encouraged leaving them there for a sense of normalcy. Pickle was just fine, his usual precocious self. The older kids came home on the bus in the afternoon and went to the living room to watch Nickelodeon or Disney Channel, the only 2 channels that still had regular programming. I stayed with my aunt and also went up to my Gram’s house. She knew the feeling of not knowing, the feelings of the family and friends of all the people who were in or near the towers, Pentagon, or other plans. She told me of when my grandfather was in the Navy, there was an explosion at the base. Gram knew about it, but that was it. It wasn’t until later that evening that someone showed up at the house where she was staying. He asked if she was Mrs. W, and she said yes. He said that Gramp told him to tell her that he’s ok. I can’t remember what the explosion was, I think it was a bomb fell off a truck or something like that, but it killed a bunch of people in my grandfather’s company. If he had been with them it would likely have killed him too, but he was in the hospital recovering from surgery to remove a cyst. It did knock him out of bed, though. Sitting with my Gram and listening to her was great - even when we’re just sitting there not saying anything, it’s very comforting to be in her presence. But I had to leave, as I had other plans.

Tuesday nights I always had standing plans with Officer Friend. We would always watch NYPD Blue - I’ve seen every episode, thanks to him. At the time he was only a part time police officer and worked as a full time maintenance director at the mall. The malls closed early that day, so Mrs. Friend was home too. She drove all the way there to find out the mall was closing when her shift was supposed to start. Blue obviously wasn’t on that night, so we decided to go out to eat. We called first to see if anything was open, and FruitBug’s Neighborhood Grill was, so that’s where we went. It wasn’t crowded at all, and the President was making his address on tv. The colors on the tv there were really bad, so it looked like W was an Oompa Loompa - he had orange skin and green hair. That was the first time I laughed all day. After dinner we went back to the Friend’s house, and I stayed as long as I could, but eventually had to go home. My brain was so full from everything that happened that day, and I really needed a diversion. The news was still on every single station, so I put it on the Cartoon Network or something like that just so I could sleep. Charlie Gibson was still on, reporting the news, and he does the morning show so I know he’d been on the air for something like 16 hours. Peter Jennings was getting tired too; his Canadian accent was coming out pretty thick.

The next few days were a bit of a haze for me as I was still digesting the reality of the whole situation. When I went to work at Job#2 that following Thursday (yes, I’ve often worked 2 jobs simultaneously), one of the other Key Bitches told me that I looked like I was in shock. I guess I was. I still couldn’t really think straight, but it was really slow that night so I didn’t have to. The next night, Friday, I went to the mall just to distract myself, but as I was walking in I came upon the 7:00 candlelight vigil that the nation had planned, so I joined in, right there in the parking lot. Someone handed out candles, and we stood silently for a bit then sang some songs - I think “God Bless America” was one. Then I wandered around the mall in a daze and drove home. It was on the way home that it hit me. I can’t remember what triggered it, maybe it was a song on the radio, but I just started crying. I cried so hard that I had to pull over for a few minutes to let it all out. It took me nearly 4 days to cry, to let it out. I walked around in shock all that time. Once I let it out, I felt better, but only in that I got my mind back.

In the month that followed, the already slowing economy ground to a screeching halt, especially in Massachusetts. I was laid off from my job at the graphics place, and Officer Friend lost his dad to a long illness. That upset me too, because it was the same illness that my wicked stepmother should have died from long ago, but instead it claimed a wonderful man and leaves the mega bitch to prolong all our suffering. I called my dad crying that morning, told him what happened, and started screaming out that it wasn’t fair. By the end of that week I was unemployed.

September 11, 2001 continues to have far reaching effects on the lives of each and every one of us, and will have for a very long time - just like the bombing of Pearl Harbor. No one can predict whether things will get better or worse, or what will be written in the history books about the times we live in now. All we can do is make the most of each day and enjoy the time we do have.

I was in NYC six months before that date. I had a bad cold (really bad - Uncle N Period was making fun of me because of the awful noises I made blowing my nose), but I managed to get downtown and visit the area. We went to the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, and of course the WTC and ate lunch on the concourse level before taking the PATH tubes back to NJ. I took this picture during that trip, as the ferry was leaving Ellis Island. At the time I took it, I figured it was yet another picture of the downtown NYC skyline, and put it away in a box with the rest of my “boring” photos. After 9/11, I dug furiously through my photo collection because I knew I had pictures of the WTC in there, and I found this one. I hope you enjoy it.

Because I’m hungry and I want to eat something before it gets too late. This darn schedule is making me fat. See, because I work 2 jobs, on the nights I have to work Job#2 I eat dinner around 5:45 so I have enough energy to make it through the shift, since I don’t get a break on the short evening shifts. On nights I don’t work, I usually eat dinner around 7-7:30. Because I eat so early on work nights, I’m hungry by the time I get home and end up eating my 4th meal then. On nights I don’t work, I only eat 3 meals. If only I liked exercise and had time for it…

I found a cool new web tool - check out the calendar at the bottom of my sidebar. I found it through Blog Surfers Anonymous. There’s not a huge selection, but the calendars they have are pretty nice. Click the link under my calendar to get your own.

I also talked to my head shrinker today about plans for the future. She said she can tell that this is pretty firm for me, so I just hope that the passing of time before my lease is up doesn’t do anything to dampen those plans. I feel like I have more direction now that I ever have had for anything, and it feels good. I don’t even have any doubts about these plans either, which is a strange and unusual thing for me. Again, I hope the passing of time doesn’t bring about any doubts, since having too much time to think about things has the tendency to do that.

So, I’m off to eat ramen and go to bed. Sweet Dreams!

It was ridiculously slow at the store today. So, I left an hour early and wandered the mall for a bit. I went into our sister shoestore and chatted up the manager there for a bit, and while I was at it I actually found 2 pairs of comfy shoes that fit. Since I can also take advantage of my employee discount at Sister Shoe Store, I did just that and got the 2 pairs for $30 and change. They are sandals, but since summer here in Vegas lasts about 6 months, I’ll get quite a lot of use out of them.

I never got out to see that movie yesterday, but I’ll try this week. The movie I was wanting to see is Little Miss Sunshine, and since Macoosh and I seem to be long lost twins and she loved it, I’m sure I will too. I’m only working 2 nights this week, which will be a refreshing change of pace. I don’t even remember what it feels like to just go straight home from the office!

I totally skipped church this morning. I had absolutely no willpower to get my ass out of bed, and as a result didn’t get up until noon. That has so got to stop, because the days are getting shorter and I’m much worse at getting up in the winter than in the summer, since it’s dark then when my alarm goes off. I wish there was some sort of willpower pill to take, because I seriously have none.

Now that I’m back from my vacation, I have lots to do to keep up with my life and also to reach my goals, now that I know what they are. I’ve known since the minute I landed here in Vegas that it wouldn’t be forever, and I’m really feeling like my time here is coming to an end (which would be sometime next spring or summer, when my lease is up). My next move I haven’t been so clear on, but I knew I wanted to move someplace greener, someplace friendlier, someplace with seasons (trust me, clear and sunny gets boring after awhile), something with an atmosphere a bit closer to what I’m familiar with. But while my exact destination isn’t really clear, I do know that I do NOT want to move back in the same vicinity of my family, back to my old stomping grounds. It’s nice to visit, but again there’s the drama in my family and the whole issue of not being able to take a shit without everyone in my extended family finding out about it. I still need my own space. I did email an e-friend regarding some thoughts I had on it because she did a similar move in her life, and basically she her thoughts and words gave life and direction to the arbitrary thoughts I have been having. I’m not ready to say here what all those thoughts are and what direction I’m heading in, mainly because I don’t want to feel too much pressure about it. I’d like it to still feel like my descision, and I’d like it continue to work it out for myself to make sure that it’s what I really want. But it’s there, and honestly I do think it is what I really want, but with so much time between now and when my lease is up, I need to know for sure and know that nothing will sidetrack me between now and then.

Ok, that was really cryptic except to one person (hi Courtney!) but that’s ok. I still need to explore it with my head-shrinker to make sure I’ve explored every angle of this and all that fun stuff. But first, it’s getting late. I have a ton of tv to catch up on from when I was gone (love the DVR) and some dinner to eat. And I should put the laundry away because I laid it all out over my bed this morning, mainly to make sure it gets put away. I have nowhere else to sleep, so dumping stuff on my bed is an effective way of getting things done. Good thing I only do that with the laundry, it would be really nasty if I did that with dirty dishes!

Have a pleasant evening!

Apparently a little pill doesn’t work for anxiety. My doctor upped my dosage about 5 or 6 weeks ago, and I don’t feel any different. The thing that did it for me was a full blown anxiety attack that I had at work today. Sitting in the bathroom, trying not to let my sobs be heard, barely able to breathe and feeling like I was gonna hurl. I guess I should have seen it coming, that something was a little off, because blogging has been such a fun and wonderful diversion from I don’t even know what. Even when I was trying to get thru the anxiety attack and regain my composure, I was writing this entry in my head.

I also had a dream last night that the anxiety came back in a big way. See, with the anxiety comes severely limited patience for everything, usually everything that has to do with other people, and a very snappy temper. I thought the person in that dream was gone, but I guess I was wrong. I know depression and anxiety go hand in hand, and I always knew I’ve been depressed or that it could come back at any time. That’s a lot of why I wanted to move away, was the depression. And moving did lift it for quite some time, but it came back. As for the anxiety, I never really recognized that until I started having problems with depression again out here and sought treatment. So the doc gave me Paxil and for a short time, things were better. I think the depression took care of itself just because I was seeing someone for it. The anxiety, for a little while, also went away. At the time, I was still seeing the “pissed off and no patience” as just that and not anxiety, but with the meds that stopped happening and when I was getting into situations when I expected that reaction to something, I was like, gee, what do I do now? Then after a few months I noticed that mentally I could handle the anxiety, but physically it was still there - racing heartbeat, shaking, hard to breathe, etc. So I talked to my doc and he upped my meds. That should have taken effect by now, since it’s been about 6 weeks, but it’s not, I feel like it’s getting worse. How can that be? How can a low dose have helped me, at first anyway, and a higher dose doesn’t work at all? I don’t get that.

One thing I have noticed over my life is that newness keeps me calm and happy, which is a bit of an oxymoron as far as my personality goes because all my friends and family know that I am most comfortable with the familiar. I don’t like trying new foods, and I really like my routine. But the strong appeal of newness, the unfamiliar and the anonymity of being somewhere I’ve never been before is what brought me to Vegas, and what is making me want to leave Vegas. But know I don’t know. I want to settle down somewhere and build a life for myself instead of living like a gypsy, but at the same time, if the newness is what keeps me going, am I going to be doing this the rest of my life? How do I stay in one place and stay happy? I’m even noticing that comfort, on any level, is not a good thing. Take jobs for example. When I worked for the graphic design studio back in MA, I was very comfortable with my job. A bit bored, but I figured I had a good thing and even though I would casually peruse the want ads, I never acted on it because hey, I was in a good place. Then I got laid off after 9/11. I mean, no matter where I was that could have happened because the economy totally tanked then, especially in MA. But the fact remains that I was too comfortable. Same thing now, I keep feeling like I’ve got it too good here so I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, yet I feel like I would be betraying the very loving people that I work for and with if I were to seek out something else. So I’m stuck, inert, because I can’t figure out what to do about this. I don’t get it, how can comfort not be good and discomfort is good? It defies logic.

I’m going home next week on vacation. I’m excited to see my family and friends again and to be somewhere familiar. With this upcoming visit, I’m actually starting to think about for the first time that it could be possible to move back there. I’m still not sure how I feel about that, and if I did move back to that area, I still don’t think it would be in the same part of the region that everyone else is in. I’d still need my own turf, so to speak, but being close enough that I don’t have to worry about not being able to afford holidays with my family. A snowstorm can stop me, but money can’t. There’s still the cost of living there, and job opportunites and all that other crap that is leading me to somewhere else, but that somewhere else is in a state I’ve never set foot in.

I know happiness has to be found within myself, but external factors influence that sooooo much. I keep thinking I know what I need to be happy, but as life goes on, that thinking keeps getting turned upside down and every which way. I know one thing for sure - keeping busy with so many jobs and other things to do doesn’t keep me from needing to think about this and sort it all out. It just keeps me going.

It’s occured to me that I am severly limiting myself by only having it about figuring out where to go next. So, I’ve changed the title. I’ll write more a little later.