Life's Illusions

Warning: I am writing this from a hotel room in North Carolina where I've been since Sunday assisting with the final conversion for the company that I work with. I'm sitting here trying to fall asleep because I have an early and long day ahead of me, and let's face it: I'm an old lady who needs her sleep. But instead I find myself painfully awake. Thinking. Mulling. Questioning. So if you're tired of the "Ruth whines about her life" format, you might want to skip this one....

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Thinking is a dangerous thing for me most of the time. I spend the majority of my time occupying myself with things that distract me from...well....myself. Thinking takes me places that are painful and difficult, but ultimately necessary. When I started this blog, I intended it to be a tool on a journey of self discovery. An absurdly lofty goal. You cannot force discovery. You can only live your life the best you can (and sometimes the worse you can) and hope that somewhere along the way something starts to make sense. We spend our entire lives getting to know the people around us, our friends, our family, even the people we don't really like that much. So much time and energy is spent learning about these people. I looked into the mirror this morning and realized that I don't quite recognize the person staring back at me anymore. Now maybe it's the fabulous new haircut I got (Green Peridot in Midtown Manor. Ask for Lauren. She's really good. And has awesome tattoo.) but I think that so much has changed for me and so much of me has changed in the last 5 years or so. Some of it has been sudden but mostly it's been slow and subtle. Like the seasons changing. One day it's 100 degrees outside, but ever so slightly it starts getting cooler and night. The sun starts setting earlier and earlier. And all of a sudden it's the middle of October and you're left there wondering where the time went.

I used to think I had it all figured out. The vanity of the young, I suppose. I've recently realized that I have nothing figured out. Nothing. I don't know where I'm going, what I'm doing, what I want, or how to get it even if I did know how. Once, seems like ages ago, I had a Plan. It was a grand Plan, full of hard work, ambition, drive, and determination. It was a Plan that required sacrifice, but ultimately (in my foolish young mind) would pay for itself once I got what I wanted, what I thought I needed to be happy.

That's an interesting word to me. Happy. Happiness. So fleeting. So peaceful. Once you find it, it becomes increasingly difficult to hold onto. But if you can...Losing it sometimes feels more painful than never having it at all.

Sorry. I have a tendency to be over dramatic at times.

That was the purpose of the Plan. To make me Happy. And everything I did, everything I was, was designed to fit the Plan. I became a person towards one specific goal. And for awhile, that was enough. It was more than enough. I was more than enough.

But as all grand Plans have a tendency to do, things change and Plans can be stagnant things and can't evolve. So they are abandoned, locked in a hope chest filled with old yearbooks and kindergarten report cards and a multitude of unfinished projects. And as I am want to do from time to time I pull down that hope chest (which is really just a plastic bin from Target that I got when I moved to college my freshman year and have been toting around since) and browse through it at the person I used to be, or at least the person I thought I was. Maybe everyone else sees someone different and I am none the wiser. When I go through my previous hopes and dreams, musings and the like, I feel sometimes that I am looking at a stranger. But that was me. At some point I was that person. How can you not even recognize yourself?

I have to wonder who I am now. And if I would like myself. If my 22 year old self were to meet me today, would I be proud of who I was? Or disappointed? Would she understand? Do I owe her anything? I know my 13 year old self would be disgusted at the fact that I can't even walk up the stair without getting winded.

These are this things that keep me up at night. These are the thoughts that tumble around in my tired little head. That cause me to make more Grand Plans that I know at my core are hollow attempts at feeling like I have a purpose.

Once I wanted to inspire. How can I do that when I can't even inspire myself?

I labeled this blog "My Inner Fat Kid" in the hopes that it would inspire me to remember what I once wanted, what I hoped to be. Now I don't know who that is anymore.

So I stay up all night, typing in a quiet, lonely hotel room with nothing to distract me from my own thoughts and feelings that I try so desperately to avoid through a variety of methods. But even after all of this I am no closer to answering any of my questions.

I should get some sleep. I have a full day of distractions early this morning.

Net Neutrality

This is really scary.

http://www.internetyouneed.com/

Sweet Dee

This weekend was good and bad for me. I'm going to start with the bad in hopes of ending this on a high note. I have a tendency to blog only when things are really shitty and I'm trying to focus on the good things this year instead of the bad. Call it a New Year's resolution if you want. I just want to spend my time feeling positive about things instead of negative.

Sunday morning I woke up and went in my room to check on my hamster, Sweet Dee aka Deemous, as I do every morning. Usually I walk in the room, tap on her cage a little to see where she had buried herself the night before. She'll poke her nose out, sniff at the bars near my fingers, scratch and try to bite me, and I'll give her a treat for her efforts. It's a fun little game we play. Or used to play. This Sunday I walked in and tapped on her cage. When she didn't emerge right away, I became concerned that she had escaped ala a year ago. So I opened the cage and started digging around for her. I found her in the corner curled up and not moving. And cold. And stiff.

Yeah my hamster died. Which sucks. When we got her we read that they don't live very long, but I wasn't ready for this. I had just taken her out in her ball to let her run around on Wednesday and she seemed fine. Not old and feeble and about to kick it. So I don't know what happend between Saturday night when I said good night and Sunday morning. I have this overwhelming feeling of guilt that it was something that I neglected to do. It was too cold in her room, or there was something wrong with her food. I guess she had been more stationary of late, not using her wheel as much. I feel more guilty about the fact that I don't think I paid as much attention to her as I should have. I used to spend a lot of time with her when I was in school. Many nights when I was up late working she was my only source of company. I'd be painting or drafting and say something about how stupid everything was and how tired I was or how much I wish I jsut had a normal job (little did I know!!) and she's stop running for a little and poke her head out at me as if to say "Stop whining and get to work. I have to run on this damn wheel all night long as my only source of entertainment and the cats bug me whenever they get a chance and you don't me complaining. Now go get me a carrot."

But after I graduated and got my so called "normal job" I stopped spending so much time with her. I started avoiding my room because it just reminded me of the fact that I have no direction when it comes to my life and that once I felt sure about where I was going and what I was doing and that I just felt like I was floating without purpose. and by proxy I guess I was avoiding her too. Our interaction became limited to "good morning" and "good night" and the occasional cage cleaning.

I realize that to some people she was just a hamster. But to me she was a pet and I'll miss her.
Sleep well Sweet Dee.

I'll talk about the good in another blog. This one is hers.

Work in Progress

I'm not going to lie. This week was rough. All around. Personally. Professionally. Emotionally.

I've discovered a lot about myself in the last 4 days. Things that I haven't thought about since I was a child. And as much as it hurts to relive some of those things, talking about it and starting to work through it feels great.

I can pinpoint a single moment in my life when everything changed. And as cliche as it sounds, that moment really did shape a lot of the person that I am today. It has affected every single relationship that I have had since that point.

Rationally I know the way I feel sometimes is absurd. But emotionally, that defining moment has crippled me. I need to find a way to work through it and I think I may be ready to do that.

I feel very lucky to have people in my life that are willing to go through this with me.

Chocolate Promises

That sounds like a dirty mixed racial smut book. It , in fact, is not.

I'm walking home from work today and I reach into my pocket and what did I find? A piece of Dove chocolate that my coworker Nannett gave to me earlier in the day. Score! Unexpected treat! So I eat it, and smooth out the wrapper and read the message on the inside:

It's okay to live without a "big picture" in mind.

I have not cried that much at an empty candy wrapper since I was 10 and I ate the last of my Rolos from Halloween.

The last few months have been hard on me. I'm in a job that is nothing more than that. A job. Some days I hate it, some days it's not so bad. It makes me money and ensures that I can keep up with my half of life. It keeps me busy during the day and I have met some truly wonderful people there.

But I can feel myself slowly getting stuck. Slowly settling for something that I don't really want but will tolerate until what it is I want does come along. I am afraid of waking up in 5 years and wondering what happened to my ambitions, my goals, my dreams for the future.

And I'm not sure how to get unstuck.

I keep looking for a way out, but in all honesty, I don't think I am trying hard enough. I talk myself out of something before I even get the chance to try. I know it's silly, but I think it's easier for me to handle the "what might have been" rather than knowing that I am rejected. Knowing that I am not good enough is a lot harder to take that knowing I didn't try. Because then I can always kid myself into thinking that I might have done well.

Sad isn't it?

But I need to do something. I need to get out. I need something more professionally that what I have at the moment.

I just don't know how to go out and get it.

Monday, Monday

Aside from having to work on Saturday and the weather being crappy and my hamster missing it was a pretty good weekend. Hung out with some friends that I haven't really seen in awhile. Went rollerskating, which was an experience all on it's own. I haven't been on skates in god knows how long and it was really awkward at first, but I got the hang of it eventually. And I only fell once. Go Team Me!

And then Monday came and ruined it.

I am grateful that I have a job. I am. But that does not mean that I have to like working. Some days it's not so bad. Some days it's takes everything I have not to throw the shit they ask me to do and the shit they ask to to put up with back in their smug little faces and walk out the door in a blaze of glory and certain unemployment. I cannot wait for the day when I can tell them where to shove their policies and leave that crap.

It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for 2 things. 1) The customers. Why do you think that it is okay to yell at someone and berate them just because they don't know who you are. Do you know who I am? Do you know where I live? What's my husband's name? How long have I worked here? Where did I go to school? Oh. Don't know the answer? Then shut the fuck up. Just because you have been coming here for 40 million years does not mean you are above the rules. Kiss my ass. I hate you. And what kind of crap tard walks into a bank without any fucking ID on them?! Seriously?! Kiss my ass. I hate you.

And 2) the merger. I hate sales. If I wanted to be a sales person I would work at a car dealership where I would make more money and not have to deal with this bullshit all day. You can take your TOTSC and your TCHK and your damn CKCD and your stupid WSVANA and shove it. I don't care about any of that crap and you shoving it down my throat is not helping anyone.

I have to tell myself that this is not forever, that I will eventually find something better. Right? Seriously if I am still working there in a year, someone please punch me in the face to knock some god damn sense in me.

PS> If you couldn't tell already this blog is rated PG-13 for mild offensive language. Or is that R? I honestly don't know. I swear like a sailor. I think it's because I am so repressed at work (being nice to people all day sucks) that when I get home my filter is automatically turned off.

God I hate that job.

The week always makes me feel better though. Somehow I have trouble accepting things Monday. By Wednesday it doesn't seem to bother me so much and Fridays I am just excited for the weekend.

I think I like it better when I don't accept it. At least then I feel fired up to do something about it. I need to get the hell out of this town.

I do have some small stuff lined up for the coming months. I don't know that it will lead anywhere, but at least it's a way to stay plugged in.

Begin Again

I have started this blog several times, never really taking it anywhere or doing anything with it. I have used it to air grievances in the past, used it to whine about the direction my life has taken, used it to joke about the things I felt I had not control over.

I suck at writing and I suck at introspection. I don't review books or movies or video games. I don't have cooking tips. I'm not that funny in writing, and tend to come off as crabby instead of sassy. Like right now.

I don't know why I wanted to start a blog other than for my own selfish purposes. I'm working through the pile that my life is slowly falling into and I am trying to swim back to the surface and fine my direction and purpose once more.

I just graduated with an MFA in Scenic Design and am currently working at a bank. I hate my job and am desperately trying to find a way out, but so far have been unable to do so. I miss my theatre life like nobody's business and the camaraderie and excitement it lent to my life. I've become one of those drone bees who does nothing but look forward to the weekend.

So the purpose of this blog is to force myself to take a good long hard look at who I am and where I am going and force me to do something about the things I don't like.

In short (if you knew me you would be laughing at that) (because I am really short) I am looking for my lost ambition and drive. If anybody has seen it, I left it on stage at the Civic center at the beginning of last May when I shook that old dude's hand (I think he was the president of the university or something).

Hopefully they won't all be this whiny.