The world is a vampire.

I am utterly heartbroken. Here, blog, you take the brunt of my sadness.

First, I have a wedding shower today. On this day, all of my friends and coworkers from Lyon were going to get to meet my husband. But, unfortunately, circumstances beyond his control prevented him from coming. I'm not mad about it, because he really couldn't help it and it was all in the best interest of his Nanny, but I'm still really sad. I guess most husbands don't go to wedding showers, but I wanted him to meet everyone. Now they never will. They don't even know who they're giving the gifts to. At least, they don't know half of the couple.

Second, I was so excited to find that there were apartments open across the street from my school. Yay! Even a two bedroom, which I didn't think was completely necessary because teeny children don't usually need their own rooms, but whatever. And this apartment is affordable, considering it's in Conway. Well, now it looks like it's not going to happen. AFTER I called and told the lady I'd be there tomorrow to pay for it and everything. So, again, I am homeless. Every alternative I come up with is shot down, and when I finally acquiesce and call about an apartment there, that doesn't go through, either. I NEED A PLAN. This is driving me crazy. I think I'm just going to live alone in my car. I'll mostly live at school or in a tent, anyway. I have friends who'll let me use their backyards, and my mom will catsit. Commuting 1.5 hours to school EVERY DAY is just not an option for me. I'd rather live in my tent in Toad Suck Park or in woods around the city than drive all day every day. Ideas, electively homeless friends?

Very. Upset.

Fitter, happier, more productive, not drinking too much

From deep within my psyche, I'm pretty much screaming at everyone. I would almost call it yelling for help, but not in a pitiful way. So not really yelling "for help." Just yelling. Because I'm not allowed to say anything about it in the present tense. I have a different term for it then. The problem is, part of the rules are that I can't talk about it. I can't do it in front of people, at least, not out loud. I can't even talk about why I can't talk about it. Isn't that insane? I mean, I can sort of talk about it, but there are certain words that are off limits. Now I'm pushing the limits a little, but I think it's good for me to write myself a little note about it. Oh, the more insane part is that I CAN talk about it when I'm not living it. Then, just like a switch, I'm not longer allowed to mention it. It's only a past tense issue, like it's okay and even worthy of pride to be a victor but it's not okay to be going through it. I know that's at least slightly quirky, if not abnormal, but that's how it is.

Slowly but surely, and oddly enough right on schedule, the old me is back. You can time it, almost, predict the return. Over the past few weeks, my habits have crept back up on me, and I have welcomed them like old friends. Old fears are happy boundaries, limits. My brain demands structure. And there's that love-hate relationship again. There are lots of things I won't be able to do anymore, things that just suddenly pop back up even if they'd seemed absurd for months, but there are many things that I'll do better. It's just that sometimes, it makes me feel pretty crazy and trapped. Trapped is the word I always used for it. When I feel trapped is when I start screaming on the inside. Because the me who was living a "chaotic" (not really, just by my standards) life had my own consciousness and personality at the forefront. The me I was my whole life before then had to always bury that, to remain under control, to do everything like I was "told" so life could go on smoothly. I mean, my consciousness is still controlling my body, obviously. It's just much more aware of everything I do and say, buried under layers of, uh, stuff- everything must be carefully thought out, rehearsed. So everything just takes longer.

And now I have hit the limit of what I am allowed to verbalize. Heh.

Good times, noodle salad.

Emptiness is loneliness and loneliness is cleanliness and cleanliness is godliness

That was my favorite song for a particular period of my life, and I really couldn't tell you why, but it was a constant mantra in my head.

Concerns that I can't really talk about, nothing terrible, all in my head. But it's destroying me. Drowning forever.

Just for ewe.

My husband is amazing. Follow the link he sent me. I've been singing this song in my head for over a week now.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VrjwqXwyzNU&NR=1

One night of magic rush
The start - a simple touch
One night to push and scream
And then relief
Ten days of perfect tunes
The colors red and blue
We had a promise made
We were in love

And just for kicks, here's what I want for Christmas.

1. For everyone to get along. This includes friends, family, and people I'm not related to. Bleh.
2. My mother's sanity and stability.
3. My own sanity and relative stability.
4. A new metal water bottle.
5. An athame.
6. A visit to a beautician. My hair is losing it.
7. Gas cards, I drive too much.
8. School suppliez.
9. Miscellaneous.

Everything is Vibrating Continually.

I have a lot to say, but not right now.

I know a girl who lives downtown
Gets her food from the trash and smokes from the ground
She sleeps on the rocks and scumfucks around
But she’s the only real lady that I’ve ever found

My big twin sister is a spazzed magpie
Hated being a girl, so she showed up as a guy.
Made love in the middle of the night, but I cried
Because we’re twinkles on opposite sides of the sky.

Masters of bliss who live in a house
They get arrested for the truth and yelling it out.





Well hell, that's all I got right now.

Also, yes. yes, yes, and yes. I agree, that's right, and this moment is perfect.

Future Folk Singers of America

Several people, especially my closest friends, really encourage me in my music. The problem is, I'm still struggling to even begin to write my own. Which is a shame; by now I thought I'd at least have a coffee shop gig. I'm tentatively planning to commit to practicing guitar and actively writing more over the break. Anyway, I just thought of that because I was posting this song...and I wish I could write songs like this. I've heard it in my head upon meeting someone twice. The first time, when I met my brother, Taylor. The other time was the day me and my husband got together. I really need to learn the chords.

Half Asleep (Dan Messe)

I want to tell you I've watched the waves
That wake the sea
The lightning that wakes up the ground
And my heart has been half asleep inside of me
It wakes up when you come around

I want to tell you I've watched the moon
That trips the tide
The shadows that trip on the tree
And I'm wearing a blindfold, a shoelace untied
I'm steady when you're next to me

I've been half asleep all of my life
Lost in the dark of some perilous night
Is that you or some beautiful light
Finally coming around

And my heart has been half asleep all of my life
It wakes up when you come around
It wakes up when you come around




I'll surprise you.

Everything will change.

Priorities have shifted and clarity has hit me dead in the face in just the last few months. After the first of the year, I'll be living in a new place and doing new things, but things are happening now.

I got married last Friday. Yes, interwebz, I got legally married. We haven't been seeing each other long, but we've known each other for years, and now is all you have so why would you wait? That was what was always wrong with me- I always felt like I needed to wait, there was no urgency or need to live right now and be content to die at a moment's notice with regard to my love life. I had serious issues with that. Last Friday I went to Little Rock for a meeting with a birth client, and during lunch Stewart and I decided to get a marriage license. Then, up walked a Justice of the Peace. We were married by a window in the Pulaski County courthouse. It was the right decision, I promise. Some people have remarked that it was kind of sudden, but meh. We just didn't feel like making a huge crazy fuss over ourselves.

(P.S. I'm not pregnant).

Later that night, I picked up my little 12-week-old tabby boy whose name is Arlo. Arlo Guthrie Fuell, for all you I-give-cats-people-names folks. He is very needy, but he's a kitten, so I'm okay with that. Sweet cat.

All of my paperwork and assistantship stuff for UCA in January is filed and ready to go. I just have to figure out how much of a loan to ask for to cover some summer living expenses (as a backup; if I'm a certified doula by then, then I'll just pay back that loan...with the loan money. Immediately). Graduate school starts January 14th. My resignation letter is on my boss's desk; I won't be here after January 10th or so, but I will be paid until the 30th. Sweeeeet.

I was with a birth client from 11:30 a.m. yesterday until 2:30 a.m. this morning. 22 hours, totally natural labor, seventeen hours of which she did at home and the rest at the hospital (mostly in the tub or sitting up on the bed with a squat bar). It was a fantastic, beautiful, sacred and gentle birth. No tearing, and it is totally true that you completely forget the pain once the baby is here. It was the best birth I've ever attended.

I guess I can't complain. Except legally changing your name is kind of a bitch.