On the edge between Darkness and Light

I've been struggling to find anything positive to say.

The possible house thing fell through, the 'friend' hasn't really spoken to me since I made it clear I wouldn't be repaying the favor of a couch in any physical or sexual way...

The thing I was most excited about that possibility for was the chance that I could eventually get my pup back, but Dad never responded to the email where I asked him if it would be possible, which gives me nightmares involving the train tracks which are less than 100 feet from his door.

I'm living in an area where there is nothing of a potential job nature within a reasonable walking distance, the nearest gas station is something like 3-5 miles away. I don't have a car, and there is no public transport in this area. The part of Cocoa I'm in is kind of out of the way and me being a city girl feels completely isolated and rural. I've yet to find anyone that I know in Orlando who will let me crash on a couch long enough to find a job and pay them back for the kindness... so right now I have zero chance of finding a job.

Of course, since there's no money to put minutes on my Go phone, and a friend wasted my last couple of dollars on it by sending me random "I'm Bored" text messages... I have no way of getting job calls even if by miracle I should find someplace thats hiring and that I could somehow manage to get myself to. Well, no thats an exaggeration, my roommate lets me use her number and if I do get a call she's willing to come home during her lunch break so I can use her phone to call back. Still, not being directly contactable is a difficulty.

Speaking of my roommate, I love my Candy and she's a life saver but.. I'm a burden. She can barely manage her own bills without also having to support me, she's on her last string as far as stress over money issues... but insists that its okay, that she loves having me here because I play housewife and take care of what I can to help out. Its a lie though, the white kind that tells a girl that her favorite pants don't make her look fat, but no less harmful or untrue. I need to find somewhere else to be so that I can take that weight off of her shoulders.

But I have no options, not unless I'm willing to 'put out' in exchange for a place to sleep for a couple of months.

An old friend from when I lived in Orlando last year, he wants to get an apartment but that can't happen until August or September when he gets his financial aid money. Until then he's sleeping on his mom's couch, so he can't offer a place to crash until then... Plus, I need to be living in the city and have a job there so that I can get the place with him at all.

All I get are empty and insincere "Wow I wish I could help" comments. Not to mention my 'friends' here? A very small number of them seem at all happy to see me back. There's nothing more depressing than walking into a room and not having a single person smile when they notice you've arrived.

Also. I haven't been sleeping well for the last couple of weeks. Insomnia, being awake for 24-48 hours and then managing to doze off for barely an hour, 3 on the good days. At least there haven't been nightmares this time, and the last couple of days I've gotten 10-12 hours, so hopefully I'm pushing through the other side.

On top of it all, May was an extremely hard month. May 15th was the 1 year anniversary of the day that an old jr high friend committed suicide with my permission. He had AIDS. Before I left Arizona a few months previously, he and I had gone out to the hot wells one night and talked, he needed someone to know, to understand, and to forgive.

He came to me because he knew that I've had difficulties of my own, attempts when I was younger, depression, cutting, burning... Self Injury has gotten me through a lot of bad patches and suicide has at various points in my life been a comforting thought that helped me get through the worst of things. Deciding that if things got too bad I could just end it, somehow that gave me the strength to find my way through.

Tony, my friend, didn't want his loved ones to watch him suffer through the worst of it. He didn't want to be a burden, didn't want them to suffer with him, didn't want to linger. He had no chance of surviving and it seemed to him that making them watch him deteriorate and eventually fade away... that would be the greatest cruelty of all. There were other reasons, his fear of the suffering and pain that would come with it of course... But I told him that we would understand. We would hurt and we would miss him, but eventually everyone would understand.

When I got the message I was a wreck... but I felt as much relief that he was free of it all as I felt guilt for having given him permission to go through with it. I was told he didn't leave a note, but that nobody doubted his reasons.

All of May this year it was on my mind and appearing in my life in strange ways. I did a google search for "Love Notes" and the results included several sites about suicide notes. I would be channel surfing and land on a tv show or movie about someone who killed themself. Even listening to music brought up songs about suicide. And many times it was brought up to me in casual conversation, someone just happening to mention the word, the idea...

Its given me something to focus on in my depression, the fact that it keeps popping up. Never in any way that involves me considering it. I haven't cut or burned or otherwise harmed myself. Just.. the thought always floating just at the surface.

I've decided to scrap the serial killer that I was working on and start over with a new project, write a novel involving the theme. A girl who decides that she has nothing to live for and takes some time to distance herself from the ones she loves so that they'll hurt less when she kills herself. A series of adventures, bucket list (things she wants to do before she dies) and a sense of freedom that she experiences in the last months because she throws away the idea of guilt or consequence.

Part of the catalyst for her decision will be something very close if not completely identical to what happened with Tony, and if I ever do manage to publish he'll be the main dedication.

I don't believe that the story will have a happy ending, though one could develop in the process of writing. My characters tend to decide that for themselves without discussing the matter with me, heh... I believe that the story will end with her note and final thoughts... but I believe the journey, if it flows onto the page the way it plays in my mind, will be important and educational for the reader to find understanding and perhaps a bit of healing in the words.

I wasn't sure until this morning whether I intended to actually write this novel, or just keep the idea in my file for the amorphous maybe... but then today it happened again. On PostSecret there was a postcard, well... You should see it at the top of this post. It led me to To Write Love On Her Arms and I've come to terms with the fact that this idea isn't going to let me go until I've put it to writing.

So. I write, and perhaps in the process I'll bleed a bit of myself into the pages. I know I will, and that some secrets revealed will be uncomfortable for those who never saw when they should have but... Maybe thats just as important a part of this as the possibility that it could do some good to someone else who lingers at the edge and flirts with self destruction.

Thoughts of the moment

So... Florida. Still haven't found a job, haven't even gotten a single call.

Actually, the lack of calls thing is a little convenient as I've run out of minutes on my pre-paid go phone and there's no money to put more on. No money without job, no job without money, Brilliant!

Part of the problem is the area I'm living in is somewhat... rural. I don't have a car and there is no such thing as public transportation here. My job opportunities are limited to whatever Candy might be able to drop me off at on her way to work at Wallmart. Problem is, neither Wallmart nor any of those conveniently located places are looking for anyone at the moment.

Fret not, I may have a solution to this problem. A friend who lives in Orlando has a room in his house which is supposed to be vacated by its current occupants at some theoretically soon point. They're a couple looking to get an apartment of their own, wanting to live alone... and he's offered to let me have their room at that point. He may even let me crash on the couch until that point.

Here is where the incentive part comes in... See that adorable mutt I posted the picture of? That's Badger, he's been living with my Dad for a while now... but if I get a job and stay at that house, it has a huge back yard and the guy says he'd be fine with me bringing the pup out to live with me again so long as he's reasonably well behaved and house trained.

So a possible move back into Orlando itself, a different area of town, different roommates, and likely an entirely different social circle than I had before. Its promising. There's a little bit of a walk to get to the nearest bus stop, but there is a bus system that I could get to, which makes work finding a bit easier.

Only hesitation at this point... 2 things.

1, the guy has a bit of a crush. He behaves, but has repeatedly made it clear that he wouldn't mind me living in his room. Thats not going to happen, especially after the disaster of having made that sort of mistake in San Diego. Thou Shalt Not Date (or in any way become involved with) Roommates. Too much drama, and still... I'm worried that the crush he has might make for drama anyway. Is it worth the risk to be where I can more easily find a job, and with luck eventually retrieve the Badger?

2, Until I find a job I'm completely broke... Can't even buy ramen to feed myself for however long that takes. Relying on his kindness in that dept runs the risk of compounding the first issue.

So it bears pondering, but either way I'm looking to move into Orlando again.

Besides, the bedroom I currently sleep in actually belongs to Candy's son. Right now he's living with his father, but when school gets out custody returns to her, and I vacate the room.

I have until the end of the month to fully make up my mind and get things moving, so... Its not really a matter of where, but with whom and how to go about it I imagine. Likely it'll be the guy's house, especially as I miss my Badger and hopefully Dad will let me have him back when the time comes...

Have I mentioned I hate making decisions? I'm Phobic. Like... commitment-phobic but in relation to any major decision, its a large part of what gets me into so many scrapes and adventures.

What is she saying?

I have nothing special or clever or important to say today, just posting because I can. And its my blog so really, I can do what I want, listen to me behaving like a spoiled 14 yr old on her birthday :)

Tonight I actually intend to go to bed around Midnight. No, really!!! Going to tag along with roommate when she goes back to work after her lunch around noonish... Harass Wallmart about job application and see whats hiring around the store...

No public transport in Cocoa, so I need to find something at Wallmart or nearby so Candy can give me rides.

Otherwise, I'll be updating my online resume thingy tomorrow... Monster, and apparently carreerbuilder is more effective in the area. I SHALL BE PRODUCTIVE!!!

Today I was housewifely (We joke about that being my role, as I try to make myself helpful by doing the cooking and cleaning and whatnot) so I feel that the day wasn't entirely wasted, which is always a bonus.

The world is a decent place. Not exciting, but shiny.

OH SHINY!!!! So, I've been playing with Twitter again and I found Nathan Fillion (who played Mal Reynolds on Firefly and Serenity) and he said Gorram in one of his posts. I literally fell over giggling in excitement... Ohhh the squee. Sadly, Alan Tudyk doesn't seem to have one.

I did recently get my Alan Tudyk fix from Dollhouse *bounce*. Even when he's being evil he's adorable and delicious.

Sometimes I wish I felt this squeeful about people that I actually have a chance at ever knowing, but ah well. If you can't fall in love with the stars, whats the fun in looking up in the sky at night?

A taste of chaos

And I start with a random seeming webcomic post, because its my favorite flavor of crazy, and because I couldn't find anything specifically appropriate to the post.


So yes, the Beach Trip was fantastic. It was organized by some Pagan type friends, so there was a brief ritual sort of thing... but not really. It involved everyone standing in a circle, and a bottle of honey whiskey (delicious, must find out what brand it was) being passed around. Each person, as the bottle comes to them, makes a toast or comment of some sort...

Its a bit like some Thanksgiving dinners I've been to, where each person says something that they're thankful or happy for... or a few New Years things I've been to where each person makes a resolution or wish for the coming year.

New years is more appropriate, as Beltaine (May 1st) is the beginning of the new year for some pagan types, and the whole get together is in part a starting out the new year kind of deal.

My toast? "To getting it right this time."

After the circle broke there was hippie-like singing (complete with someone playing guitar), some more drinking though not to the point that anyone actually got drunk. It was very mellow, content, people curling up and snuggling and such type of a thing.

Well, of course there was also skinny dipping (aka clothing optional swimming). Yes, I exercised my option to not go naked :P It felt good though, being in the water with friends under the stars and half-ish moon. The waves crashed over us like a mob of over-eager puppies while we laughed and joked and tried not to swallow a gallon of salt water. I resisted the urge to just drift off on my own, and stuck with the buddy system.

No fire, I don't think its allowed there, but after we dragged our soggy selves out of the air the weather was wonderfully mild. Most of us changed into (or put on, for the skinny-dippers) dry clothing or at least wrapped up in towels so that we'd be dry for the drive home but... it wasn't cold coming out, it felt good.

The last couple hours of the night involved pairs and groups flopping onto shared towels, blankets, or patches of sand to cuddle and talk and such. I spent the majority of that time just sitting back and watching, enjoying a feeling of complete serenity and contentment.

Wherever I drift in my wanderlust driven adventures, every time I go to the beach I know that there's at least one place that I belong. I'd almost say it feels like home, but that begs the question of whether home is a tangible thing, a location, or merely a sense of well-being? I'll let the philosophers puzzle that one out, the mechanics don't really interest me. I just know its right, I belong near the Ocean.

BTW Yes, we did clean up and take away everything that we brought along. Well, everything except for the sandal that Candy managed to lose :)

For once, I think I actually look my age

I have nothing clever or useful to say... Wasting time as I wait for my ride to tonight's Beach outing. She should be here any minute, but I decided to play with the camera phone. I look pale and tired but I'm feeling good and look, there's a smile trying to escape!!

I hate smiling in pictures, my grandma used to make me give this huge toothy smile for family pictures and I've never been able to break the habit since.. even though I find that joker-like smile completely repulsive. Ugh.

Funny, people try to tell me that I look sad or lost in my pics, and it really is just that I find that smile so disgusting that I delete any pics where it happens. Anyway, I think I look better in my serious, or slightly playful pics.

Any rate, off to the beach *squee*

So I've had this thing for a couple of years

Now that I know a couple of others who use it, I may actually start posting again. I have a goal here, I intend to keep this blog overall upbeat. It won't always be, because I have a tendency to dwell on the occasional dark thought or troubling memory, and because Drama (DRAMA) likes to pin me for the occasional 10 count (only 1-2-3 is necessary but it likes to stick for the long count just to be cruel sometimes.)

But my dad grumps at me because in other places I mostly post when I'm in negative moods, says I need to learn how to be happy... Well, I'm not sure how to go about that, but focusing on happier things, and posting when I'm in better moods... That I can make a goal of. PLUS! Knowing that family reads it, that should keep me in line right? Can't have them knowing any dark secrets :)

So we re-begin (And I think puppy adorableness was a good start, but figured something of actual content was required as well.)

I've just moved back to Florida after a ill met sojurn in California... Florida was better for me. I had to leave behind my beloved pet rat River, who was the coolest rat in existence, but I couldn't risk getting caught with her on Greyhound. I ran away from some bad stuff, but its firmly in the past where it belongs.

So far things are spiffy. I'm still job hunting, but otherwise things are good. I have an awesome friend who let me stay with her for the moment. I've had a couple of opportunities to visit with old friends in Orlando and spent one spiffalicious afternoon/evening flirting with an old crush. Thats an exciting note, because I'm one of those foolish girls whose life can be charted by the boys she likes, but BUT I plan to be not stupid this time, and as his interest thus far has shown only within the realm of flirtation, banter, and occasionally cuddling type affection... I think I'm safe for the moment. Its a nice high point though, I'm a feline creature that operates on friendly cuddles and affection.

Best of all, later tonight I'm joining friends for a midnight beach trip and... You cannot know how big of a deal this is for me. I'm a girl who grew up in the dark, desolate wastes of the desert... but the beach, the ocean, thats where I feel truly alive. In all my adventures so far, the only place I've found that feels like belonging is at the beach.

Only thing that makes me happier is a thunderstorm. All the crash and chaos, the hint and threat of violence... People tease me about having moved to the land of the hurricanes but I don't mind a bit... I've a notion that it would be just about the most exciting thing in my silly life, and I'm dumb enough to want to be right on the beach or near enough to feel the wind and the wildness of the storm throwing my hair into tangles.

Afterward... after beach, after storm, whichever... With the thunder crash and the chaos of the waves... I feel truly REAL. Washed clean of every dark thought and notion, a being of pure energy and sensation waiting to be unleashed on the unsuspecting world... But, oddly, in a good way. Like a dull party waiting desperately for some dynamic person to walk in and inspire everyone into fun.

My grandpa used to call me his Muse... and sometimes, in those post storm/beach moments thats what I think I feel like... One of the muses wedded to flesh and charged with the task of carrying the light of inspiration into the midst of some unsuspecting crowd.

... Its 4am, if those last couple of paragraphs don't sound completely insane then I'm going to claim sleep deprivation and pretend that I didn't mean every word as I typed it :)

The essence of adorableness

Raaaaaaaaaaaaaawrrr!!!

I've had this set as my laptop's background for the last week or so since it came up on icanhashotdog.com (cute puppy/dog pics) because I squee every time I see it. For those who aren't quite sure what a Squee is? Its a sort of squeaky, happy noise that bubbles up from that part of your stommach where the butterflies dance whenever something really touches you. I don't know of any better way to explain it but that... Its a literal sound, and sometimes it escapes in a tiny whisper because the thought is too precious to share, or sometimes it escapes in a rush like a teenage girl squealing giddily about being asked on her first date.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is where my biological clock exists. Not for babies, though I do on rare occasion find one that makes me giggle at cuteness, but puppies. Tiny puppies most especially, because they are so much of everything wonderful that I've ever wanted in my world that I can't help but find hope in those small moments... that every past transgression, mistake, or outright sin (insomuch as I believe in 'sin') will be forgiven so long as something of this cute-magnitude is allowed to exist in my presence from time to time.

Other tiny animals can have a similar effect, though puppies are always best because I have a life long love affair with puppies and dogs. So long as they exist, there is good left in this world :)