Home Alone.

Someday I hope I'm able to trust men again.  I miss feeling like any man that acts as if he wants more than friendship from me is just going to want sex and nothing else. 

I almost miss the completely overwhelming fear of intimacy I was all but crippled by a year ago.  But now I've moved on from that.  I've actually just moved on.

I think after this semester I'm realizing that I'm actually ready to date again.  I'm just really afraid to because every man I've met in the last year has only wanted casual sex from me, which I am most definitely not interested in.

On that note, I guess it's time for me to bake some cookies.

Well, Then.

I'm done with classes for this semester.  That's a huge relief.

I'm going to Santa Cruz for the weekend and home for two weeks starting Tuesday.  I can't wait to finally relax.  I've been so stressed out.

Tonight I had a mini party with my roommates and some of our close friends.  Therefore, I might still be slightly inebriated.  Not a lot.  I mean, I wouldn't want to drive and I'm glad to be in bed right now.  But I'm not falling down and I remember all of tonight.

I spent about 20 minutes on the toilet for the simple fact that I still had to pee.  Has that ever happened to you?

Anyway, I made the mistake during that period of looking at the new setup of the Twitter app on my phone.  I started a Twitter a few years ago that I never use because Bambi convinced me to do it.  It was, for some reason, logged into that account instead of my blog account, which is the only one I've used in about a year.

Bambi is still following that Twitter.  He hadn't been on his since last November.  Until two months ago.  When he posted something about his girlfriend being a good cook.

He never enjoyed eating, but he gained a lot of weight when we were together because he actually liked the things I fed him.  So in a way it hurt me that he could and would enjoy someone else's cooking to that same degree.

Then I started thinking about it.  It was around that same time period that he started emailing me for no reason.  That he was telling me she bugged the shit out of him and he wanted to leave her.  As if I were going to give him my blessing and take him back again.

I didn't do that.  I told him I was sorry he was unhappy.  And that was pretty much it.  Not too long after that he stopped emailing me again because she found out he was talking to me and didn't like it.

Sometimes I wonder if he's still with her.  Sometimes I miss him.  Then I realize I miss the degree to which he loved me and having someone care about me that much.  I don't miss all the bullshit I had to go through to even attempt to be with him.

I miss the idea of what he was to me more than I miss him.

He was a fucking dick.

And I'm sure he still is.  Liars and assholes never change.

Despite the fact that don't necessarily like that he's with someone else, I think I've reached a point of clarity.  I hope he can be happy with someone else because I know he would never be with me.  I hope he finds some meaning to his life.  But I don't need him in mine because, while I tried my best to boost him up most of the time, he did his very best to bring me down to his level.  And I hate feeling like shit.

I really hope that one day I can find someone who loves me that much again.  I hope I can trust someone as much as I did him again.  I hope I can become emotionally vulnerable (more on that specific topic later) for that person and let them know the real me.  I hope that person only treats me the way Bambi did on good days and never like he did on bad days, because I will never put up with that shit again.

I hope that one day I can open up and learn to love again.

Until then, I'll have Churro and Toto.

Winding Down.

Last week I completed two of my courses, one of which I had to write a fugue for.  Today I completed the final exams for three others-- the big ones.  Tomorrow morning is my last final of the semester.

I'll be done with my coursework until January as of 11 AM.

I can't even begin to express how good that makes me feel.  Well, good and generally filled with terror.  I'm really nervous about the grade I might receive in my chromatic harmony class because the class was pretty hard and the final project was insane.

However, my music history final wasn't nearly as godawful as I was anticipating and my voice jury went very well today.  Those two things are a very big load off my back.

Now I'm just waiting for my extra financial aid to come through and then I'll be able to go home for Christmas.

Also, my roommate talked my into offering my music theory professor a ride to the airport in Sac on Thursday...  So, that should be interesting.  To say the least.

For now I need to practice for my final tomorrow and get some much needed sleep...  I went to bed after six this morning and got up at nine.  It's been a long day.

Long Days.

Today... 

I functioned on three hours of sleep. 

I completed a fugue (which is pretty bad-ass, fyi). 

I made breakfast burritos, complete with bacon.

I sort of ended my friendship with the guy I fooled around with this semester, who I will from here on refer to as Guac.

I saw a concert featuring the composition majors at my school...  It was weird.

I hung out with a guy who is four years younger than me for the second time this week.  He might be into me.  And I enjoy his company...  Even if Churro doesn't.  Then again, Churro doesn't dig any of the guys that, as my dad would say, come sniffing around.

I cleaned my room.  Kinda.

Oh, I also got kinda drunk and watched a bunch of episodes of How I Met Your Mother on Netflix.  Mostly because I wasn't sure how I was going to manage getting up off the couch and going all the way upstairs.

Today ways good, overall.  The only crappy part was when I cried because of my pseudo breakup thing with Guac.  But I'll be over that soon enough, anyway.

And now I'm going to sleep.

Endorphins... I See What You Did There.

I felt like shit today.  Not like I was ill, but somehow as if I was lacking whatever component it is that can create genuine happiness in a human being.

I was scared. 

I came home from a four-hour choir rehearsal and got right back in bed, utilizing that old trick I've used for years when I'm lonely and need comfort; I turned my heating pad on the lowest setting and pushed it against my back with a pillow.

I ate cream cheese frosting out of the container with a spoon.  I didn't even bother to sit up.  I just laid there, letting tears well up into my eyes while I wondered what happened to the rest of the roll of toilet paper I had next to my bed when I was sick.  It would come in handy when I needed to blow my nose.

That was my lunch.  Cream cheese frosting in a plastic container and crocodile tears filled with self-pity and probably a pretty good amount of bat-shit crazy.

I finally had to get up and go to the bathroom because I couldn't find the toilet paper and I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror on the way in.

Then I got mad.

I hate that I shut down when I get stressed.  And I was truly pissed that I was allowing my stupid little girl emotions rule me so much.

So I changed my clothes and went to the school gym.  I was only able to work out for about 45 minutes, but it made a world of difference.  I took a shower and shaved my legs.  I practiced for a half hour or so.  Then I took a half hour nap.

I got up and made dinner for Churro and a friend of ours from school who happens to live in the same complex we do.  Then I baked a cake.  And we ate it, straight out of the oven, with the same frosting I'd been eating out of the can for lunch.

Now I have a sinus headache.

But otherwise I feel about 150% better, mentally. 

It's amazing how a silly little thing like jogging and creating endorphins makes such a big change.  As if I didn't already really need to work out, I realize now that the closer I get to completing this semester, the more I need to make time to exercise.  Not only did I feel better, but it was easier to focus.  Which I've really been struggling with. 

Tomorrow I will write a two-page paper and finish memorizing the three pieces I need to know for Monday.  Oh, and sing in two concerts.  Then work on composing the fugue that serves as the final for one of my other classes.

Free time is so overrated.

Choices.

The summer directly following my 19th birthday, my parents forced me to spend about five weeks in Santa Cruz because, well, the offer was there and they were sick of me.

During that time period, I was mooning over some guy and I didn't know what to do about it.  I've always had a great fear of rejection and, as a result, very rarely pursue men.  The guys that typically pursue me are even crazier than me, so my dating record is starting to seem a little sketch. 

Anyway, I had a very dear friend from Redding (I will call him Yoda) who would help me out with a male perspective when I really needed one.  He was like a big brother to me for several years and, though we don't talk much anymore, I still hold him in a very special place in my heart. 

He gave me advice in an IM conversation that I deemed amazing enough to save in a Word document and print out. 

I think the Word document is somewhere in the dark recesses of my old laptop.  But, through some great feat of God or fate, the hard copy of the document survives.  And keeps popping up at very opportune moments.  Every time I read it I find it speaks more to me.

I found it when I moved and decided to bring it with me.  I read it when I was having issues really letting go of Bambi, then I put it away and forgot about it. 

The other day I was rummaging around in my trunk trying to find a good movie to watch and I found it again, underneath a stack of Scooby-Doo dvds.  It seems so relevant right now that I have to share it.  And hopefully that will help me gather my thoughts.  So, doubly awesome.

"You have to be able to reduce everything to a series of one or the other choices.  Then everything becomes 50/50.  It doesn't make the answers more clear, but it will help to alleviate confusion, which then leads you to the heart of matters.

After that you're close enough to the truth to make sure you're only debating important issues with yourself. 

Some guy is not an important issue.

Therefore, he can be dealt with in choices.  Either you like him or you don't.  You want to be with him or you don't. 

Don't worry about making the right or wrong choice, just make a choice and be absolute and unwavering.  No matter what, in 20 years you're going to look back on your life and you're going to have a past.  You're going to say "I wonder..." and that's always going to be about the other choice, so it doesn't matter. 

With each choice there will come what feels like the wrong choice in hindsight.  But following that choice, there will be happiness.

All choices bring with them rewards and regrets.  Go with your gut.  I'm betting that if you stop thinking so hard and just tell yourself to pick one, you'll be able to do it.  If you have to, one day just stop in the middle of a street or store, or just some random spot when you're not thinking about it and say, "choose now."

Whatever you tell yourself, go with it.  It's probably your most basic senses talking to you.

Somewhere inside you've already made the choice, you just have to find it.

If you decide not to be with him then there is only one question: will you be friends with him or not?  If yes, go with that.  If not, tell him and send him on his way; next topic.  If you decide to be with him, then down the line it becomes do you stay with him or don't you?  Do you call him tonight or don't you?  Just take it all one question at a time. 

Don't worry about the past or future. Don't worry about him; worry about you.  If you're decisive and absolute, other things tend to follow.

Be a rock.

You can either be a rock-- water changes its path to suit you, or you can be a leaf and get swept away."



I am a rock.

I am a rock that would rather be with someone who desperately loves me and treats me like crap from time to time than even try to deal with someone who is fickle and doesn't really want me but treats me well all the time.

I am tired and my stress and anxiety are both at an all-time high.  I don't have the emotional capacity to deal with shit at present.  And I'm tired of drinking.

So I am resolute and I am moving on.

I think I'm getting pretty good at it, myself.