Five minutes of "My Boys" is making me feel crappy enough to make and consume an entire batch of brownies. My evening is set.

Take that for what it's worth.

Happy Thanksgiving! I'm bleeding!

Ah, Thanksgiving... A day of laziness and complete gluttony. Part of me is thrilled to take part in encouraging my two favorite deadly sins. The other part is completely disgusted by the idea of celebrating something that isn't all that great about our country, not to mention the slaughter of millions of stupid (ugly) birds and the enormous, unfathomable amount of wasted food that will undeniably be thrown into the trash to rot while there are starving people all over the world. I say all this having just left a $40/person banquette buffet. I sure as hell didn't eat $40 worth of food, but I also only took what I knew I could finish (and this year it didn't include any turkey- or meat products really. I might have a sandwich or something later but really I think prepping that turkey soured me for a while on the whole poultry option.)

High heeled shoes are a pain in the ass. Sure they look nice, usually, but I always feel retarded in them. Maybe someday when I'm all growed up the concept of making myself taller and walking with all my weight pushed forward to my toes will make sense to me. Right now it just feels like work to walk. And so...

Things I'm thankful for: (why not...)

my new car!
my most comfortable of beds!
My oldest brother is finally moving out of the house!
Yay friends, old and new!

Cheers.

New car... in a few hours I'll driving home something that looks like this (except in black, of course).

I'm actually excited about it, believe it or not. But the thing about this new car is a bit more unnerving than actually just cool. My parents are buying me this car. They feel that this most generous of gifts is supposed to inspire me and be a sort of good luck charm for my life. I'm sorry. I'd never say that I didn't want this car, but seriously, how is a car supposed to improve my life that much. What I really need is a fucking job! The whole lack of income thing is my real problem. It's a viscous cycle (another one!) where I sleep too much because I don't have a job but because I sleep too much I don't look for a job. Right now I'm slacking because I'm still waiting to hear back from Follett... but really I am just that awesome (not!).

I'm bringing "not" jokes back. I thank the Borat movie for reminding me how really genius they are.


I'm looking forward to a month or so from now when I'm either still not working or working a shitty retail job and my life in general hasn't improved. When my mom will see me continually walking around the house in a depressed haze and not sleeping normally. I'm waiting for them to say, "We bought you a car! What else do you want from us?" And I'll laugh because I won't know what else to do and then they'll yell and probably kick me out. At least I'll have a new car to sleep in...

I'm wallowing. Right now. This minute. I say this because you can't see my face because if you could see my face you'd know. I ordered Domino's. Punishment food. Food so bad I'll only hate myself for eating later but nothing else could substitute.

Tomorrow my dad is taking me to car dealerships. I might have a new car tomorrow. I just wish I had any clue as to what car I actually wanted.

I dedicate this next drink to the many delayed sneezes yet to happen.

Another job interview today. For Follett, again. Let me tell you how much I love driving 45 minutes (yeah, that's one way) for a ten minute conversation. TEN MINUTES! I hope something good comes out of this. I could use some good news these days.

My family has officially decided to abandon holiday traditions. This year Thanksgiving at the Webber Grill? Hmmm. I've never really been one to complain about things like this but it's almost sad. This will be the first year that my family - the whole big family - won't be eating turkey together. I'm pretty sure that a similar situation will be occurring around Christmas. At least I can be thankful that I won't have a million Cinderella chores to do this year.

The one thing I truly desire in this world is something I can never have. I lack courage. Over the years I have attempted to overcome this but I'm still struggling. Mostly I wish I had the courage to say exactly what I needed to say at the exact right moment, but truth be told timing has never been a strength of mine either.

I would still use the word love. When my eyes actually close I find myself reaching out to empty space and pillows. There's this aching feeling surrounding my heart every night. Even on this night, having taken sleeping pills hours ago, my head spins knowing what has been lost. Can you even hear me anymore? I miss love. I'm sure I'll never know it again, never as it was.

How is it that each day feels easier yet harder? There's still a flicker of hope inside me which I haven't managed to kill off quite yet. I wonder what tomorrow will bring. It's about time I decided to pick myself up again. It's about time I tried to shed these apologetic thoughts and the claustrophobic layers that I have been clinging to so eagerly. I have always been one content on hiding and though I doubt that aspect of me will ever really change it would probably do me good to wake up before dusk.

I'd sign in blood. Stand alone. Let the wind push me. Waiting for the drugs to kick in. Pillows lack heartbeats. Paper thin walls leave little to the imagination. Everything about me is half finished. My thought processes leave trails that lead to nothing. How can I write endings if all I know are beginnings? The drugs are kicking in. I'll look for you in my dreams.

Do you ever miss me?

I'm in a purging mood. I either need more space or I need to dispose of half my possessions. It's getting ridiculous! How does one person accumulate so much crap? I'm throwing it all away, the whole lot. I can't breathe in here! I have stuff everywhere, hidden under my bed, stuffed in my closet. Crappy containers to conceal more crap that I never even touch. Why do I have this? When is the last time I used this? Or wore that?

I swear I'm not really a pack rat person...

There's a spider hanging out outside my room, just sitting there on the wall by the floor. I'm keeping my eye on it. If it tries to move in here I'm squashing the fuck out if it. For now I'll just glance at it with disdain every few minutes.

Despite the fact that I had a sobbing fit of a panic attack last night, and despite the fact that I didn't actually fall asleep until well past sunrise, (Did you notice that the sky looked red last night?) today has actually been a surprisingly productive day. Today I began what I'm calling day one of I'm tired of being pathetically out of shape. Now, those of you who actually know me might be scoffing- yes I know. I'm fucking skinny- but that has nothing to do with my motivations in this endeavor. I've never sought out losing weight and I probably never will (never say never). My black lungs and mutilated heart need help, need strengthening. I'm tired of feeling tired all the time. At least now with my meager efforts, I'll have a better reason for it. So cheers to that.

I baked a kick ass chocolate cake yesterday and I'm planning on starting something else (probably apple related) tonight. I'm not exactly sure what this means, all the baking I've been doing, but a girl needs to find new ways of expelling both sexual frustration and creativity somehow and right now I think that baking suits me (not to mention the fact that I get to eat whatever it is that I make...).

(What's with all the parentheses?)

To be continuted. Time to spend money at the soon to be gone Tower Records...

When everyone I know who's attached to someone is getting engaged, I can't help but feel as though my brain wants to turn itself into mush and escape through my ear while I sleep. I can't help but wonder if previous events hadn't taken place if I would be in a different life altering situation myself. I can't help but wonder if there's something wrong with me because marriage is the last thing I see and want in my future... but then again I've never been proposed to (not seriously anyhow).

It's like a disease though. Once someone you know gets engaged then all of a sudden it's a wake up call. Like my mother with her breast cancer. It's a dull slap to the forehead and it makes you wonder, Shouldn't I go to the doctor? I might have cancer too. How much do I really like this guy? Shouldn't I be engaged? I'm in my mid twenties for fuck sake! What's wrong with me?

And then I stop and think and realize, nothing is wrong with me. Or that's what I'm telling myself right now.

It's just this whole nesting bug that is plaguing my peers right now is starting to scare the shit out of me. (What doesn't these days...) Since when did we become miniature versions of our parents? It's so all of a sudden and I'm running away with my fingers in my ears singing la la la I'm not listening! Am I alone in this? Am I wrong? (calmer than you are) I mean, really! I am in fact in my mid twenties and this is supposed to be the high point right? Prime time! Seize the day! kind of shit is supposed to be flocking to my immortal youthfulness (that is slipping away). Get it while you can! Get it while it's hot! Buy a condo! Pick up a mortgage! Get married! Have children! Upgrade to a house! White picket fences and rose bushes! Buy a mother fucking MINI VAN! Cash in your ovaries and your chips, 'cause you're done. Do you have cancer yet? Have you paid off that mortgage? Your kids are going to college? Did you save for them? Savings bonds? What? 401 Kiss my ass!

I just threw up a little in my mouth...

Ask me about how I'm quitting smoking...

Do I have cancer yet? I'm almost sick thinking about all the sickness that lies ahead of me.

On a really really serious note about all this though... I'm sublimely happy for all my friends who have recently decided that marriage was their thing. For the record. I'm just (still) insane.

Once again I find myself sitting here with the morning light creeping in through my so carefully shut blinds. Once again... It's at this point in time that I wonder if it would be better just to stay awake. I'm not really even tired, yet, as crazy as that sounds and I think my body is eating itself from the inside out. I have a black hole forming in my stomach, matches so nicely with my lungs.

And I can't seem to stop crying, subtle tears that keep welling up in the corners of my eyes, keeping me blinking, keeping me awake...

All at once I notice the subtlties of life and it rushes into me with the bitterness and the cold of all that is outside these walls. This is what depression looks like. Hollow eyes, hollow smiles, hollow heart. I spend all my waking hours breaking all the rules and then lay awake wondering what exactly I did to make me feel so punished. It all adds up in the end, I'm just not willing to face the facts. I don't know why I do the things that I do, live so carelessly and claim it to be carefree. They aren't the same thing, not by a long shot.

I'm a dreamer. It's my livelyhood, my curse. It's leaving me too scared to live and yet I can't shed that layer of myself, the one that keeps everything hidden from everyone, and actually take on responsibilities- the ones that I crave but shun. There just too much at stake and the scariest part about reality is that it can't be changed. I'm too weary of making mistakes, of choosing wrong, of being not what I would hope that I can be- what I believe I should be. And I can't help but wonder, where is the reality in believing?