It's been awhile since I posted, because I've been kind of numb since my vacation. It wasn't really what I was expecting, and then again, it was exactly how I knew it really would be. Staying in New York was a disappointing and lonely as it was last year, only this time it was warm and humid, which was kind of a pain since I brought a winter coat with me and a bunch of sweaters. My hotel was very cute, which was a win. The first night I got in, I showered, which was a huge relief after the plane ride, then went to McDonald's, got dinner, and watched TV. I felt the East Coast vibe very strong, the autumn, leaves, scents in the air, etc.

I bought my aunt a gift at Bliss Spa for her birthday, and spent most of the next day just doing nothing. Eventually, finally, I took the subway to the West Village, where I met the guy named Steve five years ago. Going back to that locale was very strange. Also, it was hot out and my careful makeup, hair, etc, went to complete hell and I looked bad.

If you're by yourself, New York can be absolute hell in it's lonliness. You feel like the city is a living organism that will swallow you whole if you're not careful. That's how I was feeling, but I made it back to the West Village where I met this man whose name was Steve, 5 years ago. Walking around the neighborhood felt very familiar, and very horrible, too. I felt horrible feelings and the horror of that time: being broke, essentially homeless, sick with decay. I think when I met him I had been wearing the same outfit for 3 days because I had little to no clothes to wear. My hair was growing out from bad homemade cuts and dye jobs, and I remember that I had bobby pinned the sides of it up so it would look longer in the back. I had one green flip flops I bought at a J Crew around the corner from my sister's luxe high right apartment, the one that her and her jerk off husband couldn't really afford. Grifters r' us they were.

I have no sense of direction. It takes a long time for me to learn new places and neighborhoods, so I got somewhat lost, then all of a sudden, ended up on Greenwich Street. I walked down and found Johnny's Bar. It was the strangest moment. Not even surreal, just very, very odd. I felt nervous and hot, so I went to Starbucks, hoping I could find a table, sit, and think. Of course it was packed. I had the old horrible feelings of walking around Manhattan, observing all of the well-dressed people with good jobs, homes, friends, lives. It made me feel like dying. I guess I have come somewhat further than I was at that time.

Eventually, I did go inside, and the place seemed much smaller than I remembered. There was a group of college age people sitting at the end of the table, and a few lonely alcoholics. The place just seemed grungy and sad. I don't drink alcohol anymore, and haven't had any in almost five years. After taking a sip or two of a gin and tonic, I felt the alcohol take small effect, a slight blurring of my vision and a little bit of vertigo. I just ran out of that place and took the subway back to my hotel. New York is a horrible place to me, I'll never go back there. I hope to never go back again. At least I can move on now without the idea of a possibility that is so ridiclous in reality holding me back.

I've still had thoughts of this guy, though. Will they ever go away? Why is it I am still, sometimes, so enamored with a memory of someone I don't know? That sounds horrible because it kind of is. He's a real guy, off someplace, probably in New York, maybe with a family, or kids and an ex-wife, or a girlfriend and no kids, or who knows? I guess you can really fall dangerously in love with strangers. That love at first sight thing is really possible.

Today is just another day, however. A work day, the worst day. Tuesdays are awful. I am coming off of a short weekend, a nice night's sleep, and then I have to languish the day away and rest enough to be sharp for work at 11pm. I get paid Friday though, which is great, and I'm going to get my hair done, maybe get some new glasses or something.

I saw a movie about sex addiction and generally some very fucked up siblings yesterday. It was hard to watch but a good movie. Very kind of like this clinical documentary kind of experience, but when the main character actually felt powerful emotions, you kind of felt them with him or something. I might go see it again.

I've been taking a lot of self-portraits just to be aware of how fully ugly I am. I have some good angles, but mostly am not that attractive. I have messed up teeth. And they're just very prominent, big teeth, too. Crooked and just fucked up. Bad genes from my father's side of the family. My mother had almost perfect teeth, and a perfect face. It's hard as a girl not to feel pretty, or to feel like there's something about me that ruins my looks and should have been fixed but wasn't. Thanks to the asshole bastard orthodintist who put 2 rounds of braces on me and they didn't make a fucking dent. I think when I walked out of his office the last time, they were still fucked up and my overbite hadn't gone anywhere, and the asshole was like, all right, perfect! I looked him up on his website and now he and his son practice together. How cute, right? That man was a mean asshole and my mother took me to him TWICE. THe first time should have been evidence that he wasn't efficient. WHy did she take me to the same guy a second time? I don't think she cared enough. I think she thought, so what. I've raised two kids already. Maybe this kid can stay home with me forever and I won't be alone. Let's leave her ugly so no guy will want to marry her. Or just laziness. Sometimes I think my parents were very irresponsible to have a third child when they knew my father had health problems, and my mother was 40years old. My childhood was not normal and it ruined my chance at a normal adult life. Sometimes I don't understand how I'm even still alive.

t


I woke up so early today, at 5am. Maybe it's the daylight savings time holdover or something. I've been paranoid about my health, especially lately. After doing a lot of reasearch about all kind of health problems on the www, I feel a little bit pacified, but not 100%. But I'm going to put that on the backburner for a bit and focus on my trip back to NYC to visit my family/have a few days vacay, in less than 1week.

I've been planning this trip for awhile, but haven't really reached goals I had for myself like: a) lose 40 lbs. (I don't really need to lose 40 lbs. Maybe 10 at the most.) b) buy some new glasses, like DKNY or Versace. (didn't happen. Eye glasses usually cost me about 400 for a good pair. No bueno.) c) Get some great outfits to wear. (also didn't happen. I have a new Old Navy sweaters that have shrunk after 1 washing and jeans that are slightly too big or too small.) d) do all of the above, and still manage to save about 500 dollars for incidentals, like getting my hair done and saving money for cabs, if I need it. Figuring out public transportation in NYC, to me, is like trying to do Calculus. Basically impossible.

SO. I will barely have enough to cover my hostel/hotel situation, and then a gift for my aunt. I guess that's ok. But, see, I am a very anxious type of person. I always have been, since childhood. I stress, stress, stress over little things, big things, things in-between, and things that haven't even happened yet. I hope to have a good time and not stress the fact that I can't afford a Burberry coat, or Frye boots, or highlights at Bumble and Bumble. Maybe next year. I just want to look my best in case something good happens. After yesterday evening/morning, though, I just want to get out of California for a week and away from this cesspool.

Night from Hell

I'm sitting at home, warm, cozy, in sweats, ready for Sunday night TV. There's a lot of good TV on tonight, too. But my night last night, while calm at work, was the commute from HELL. SATAN was in full form last night, busting out his minions in triple time. Ok, not really, but kind of something similar.

Sometimes I'm a little too early for work, which is ok. I hate being late and that drives me to always be a tad too early. Also, I don't want to be standing around waiting for AC transit to show up at 10pm, then have to walk, in the dark, dimly lit
street, to the subway stop. So I leave early, no biggie. I'll get off at another stop in the city and browse the drug store for a bit, get some Red Bull, magazines, etc.

So I do this. I go back out to wait for the bus. Now, I have had a good run for awhile. No street harrassment. No strange men hurling obscenities or insults. None of it. But I think last night/this morning made up for about 8 mths of peaceful commuting, more or less. At the bus stop there's a group of youngish guys. Kind of thuggish, in that fake MTV way. I'm putting on my scarf and one of the group, I guess their little ringleader, tries to talk to me. I was nice and vague, but it was cold, raining, and I'm too old for this shit. Poor little guy's ego couldn't handle rejection from a woman he a) didn't know, who was b) alone, and c) very unassuming, so he started on this insane rant about how women are bitches and he kept screaming about me as 'that bitch over there.' It was vile and horrible. An older guy standing at the stop felt bad for me, I think, and kind of moved over to where I was standing. It was very bad. I hadn't done anything but be nice, then kind of stop talking and go back to MY BUSINESS. This little a-hole's friends looked embarrassed and didn't say anything. Their friend completely clowned himself all over a woman he didn't know, who could have been 35 and married for all he knew. Once again, DON'T HARRASS WOMEN. Even if you think you're being funny or you really just have to say hello, it's not welcome, in a public transit stop, at 10pm in the night. It's just not. If you don't know that, you're either poorly educated or just a complete dumbass.

So I just dust it off, right? I'm like, seasoned to the freaks who come out at night and don't even care. It's my last night, I have my coffee, my power bar, my umbrella. Whatever. Work was fine, kind of long, and being daylight savings time change, I worked at 9 hour night. But will still get paid for only 8 hrs. But I wasn't even really tripping off of this or much eles. Not even the obscene toolbag from the bus stop. Whatever! Right?

This morning, I had another coffee run. I usually go to a sandwich shop that opens early, and the girl working there is always so nice, too. That helps. No weirdos. If I have extra cash, I'll leave 5 $ in the tip jar, and I gave a few dollars to a completely insane homeless crackhead, too, today. I felt so bad. The woman was just about on death's door.

So I drink the coffee, get up, leave, go to the subway. I'm walking down the long hall to the train, and out pops another horrible, dirty, crazy, missing teeth covered in dirt homeless man freak, who screams out, as if on command, fucking goofy bitch! I mean, it was like staccato gunfire. I was almost shocked at how many times I was verbally assaulted and called a bitch for nothing except trying to GO TO WORK AND GO HOME FROM WORK. ALONE. UNASSUMING. Does this happen to other people? Other women? I came home feeling very horrible, and ugly, too. Then I do what I always do when I feel insecure, which is take self portraits with my Blackberry, which, in turn, makes me even more secure because after 9 hours at work, on the graveyard shift, then a long commute home, makeup melted off, hair fucked up, bad early morning sunshine lighting, I look like Gollum. I had to take a long shower to wash away the horrible shame I felt of apparently being a really ugly, goofy bitch who gets attacked by horrible strange men. It was so bad. :(

My NYC trip is in 1 week exactly. I have a lot to do this week. Must confirm my hotel reservation and print out flight and hotel itinerary, go to H&M for some stuff,
borrow a carry on from my sister. Go to the bank when I get paid on Friday morning. I'll be extremely broke when I get back, but whatever. I also must get a birthday present for my aunt. I was thinking about getting her some turquoise jewelry. My mother loved turquoise and it would be a nice memory.

I just want to have a good week. No crazy scenes at the subway. Just calm and fine.
This time next week I'll be at my hotel in Manhattan, and am hoping it's not absolutely freezing. I need to try and have a good time this time. Last year I hibernated in my hotel room and was only there for a little over a night.

My tattoo removal is coming along, slowwwly. It hasn't really made a dent. Being broke sucks bigtime. I wanted to do all of this stuff to get myself a little more glam before going back East, get new boots, new glasses, and my hair done, and can't afford to do any of it. I'm hoping that I actually have a good time and am not wasting my money on this.

Last night was long and I spoke to some very rude and stupid people. And some nice and unfortunate people. Kind of par for the course, I suppose. Now it's over and I'm off, TG. All you can do is try your best.

I'm extremely unhappy w/ having 200 USD taken out of my checking account from MyLife.
I'm smart enough, or was smart enough, not to sign up and pay for shady shiz on the www, but now and again, your curiousity is piqued or you get lonely or whateva, right? So I decided to pay about 13 USD for a 1 month trial and look up some people I haven't seen in years.

Cue to astonishment over them almost immediately, as in, the second I put my card numbers in and hit 'done', taking 200 out of my account. I was flabbergasted. I also had to wait until 6am to get an explanation from customer service. They answered right away, but it seemed a little too easy. The girl asked for my email, zip code, and that was it, and was like, poof, your refund is done. I'm hoping that in 7-10 business days the money is back in my account. My trip is creeping closer and I need to save everything I have. I also need to cancel my debit card soon to avoid further charges from these people. I can't even access the account, they never emailed me my password. But the girl sounded nice, (as in, does that even matter anymore), and seemed very willing to fix the error. I'm really hoping that no other funds are going to be drawn from my account for a completely useless service that I can't even access.

I have my 2nd laser removal session tomorrow: not really looking forward to it. Now that I know what to expect, it's pretty bad. My hand will be pretty swollen for about 4-5 days, w/ blisters. Not
pretty. Takes about 2 weeks to heal.

I'm not sure if I should even bother getting my hair done before going back East. I thought about getting lighter brown highlights. I need to get some boots, though, and a warm coat that doesn't make me look like a penguin.

I don't know why people my age are in a mad race to have children. I guess it's not for everyone.

I just can't imagine doing that to my body. I feel like I've missed the boat sometimes, as if I have a hazy image of how my life would have been if my mother hadn't died 12 years ago. I don't know, really. Probably a lot different. I don't think I would have gone through some phases I went through in my later teens, early twenties. It's really hard to process extreme tragedy for children.
I'm not sure how adults don't understand that. I think I chose not to even try to process it,I ignored it for as long as I could until I felt emotions that were too hard to deal with, too hard to ignore. I guess it was going to happen eventually. You can't live in denial forever.

I'm not really sure when it was in my life that people who came into it were actively trying tohurt me in some kind of way. I suppose after my dad died, then after my mom died, it was like,you're alone. There is no responsible adult who really cares about you, your future, or the decisions you make. It's much more complex to raise children once they are almost legal adults. I feel like my development from adolescent to adult just never really happened sometimes.

Indian Summer

It's pretty hot out today, 84 degrees so far. I accomplished some stuff, new clothes, etc., I was in dire need. My clothing situation was looking very grunge, and not the kind that is on purpose. Being thrifty, I went to Old Navy and spent much less than I would have at another department store.

These people who work the kiosks at the malls need to stop doing cocaine or whatever it is that makes them act like raging psychos. This metrosexual kind of guy with a little ponytail on top of his head chased me down, literally, to try their bogus looking shady-euro makeup. I said no, thanks, and he gave me a card. So then once I walked away, he started yelling at me to give him back his card. I walked back, and was like, dude, what the hell is your problem. He goes, with his eyes wide and crazed, "I just want to show you my makeup!" I considered calling the mall concierge to complain. He was too crazy. Those people are usually annoying, but this guy was like, full on, wild eyed, psycho. Maybe he reached his breaking point being rejected by the passers-by all the time. I avoid that mall if I can help it, unless it's time to go back to Victoria's Secret.

I hate shopping. Truly loathe it. Back in college, when I had more money, I remember loving going to the Willow Brook Mall in Wayne, NJ, and spending probably anywhere from 700-800

at Bloomingdale's, Sephora, and sometimes on shoes. I probably spent about 2000 a month on clothing. For a college student, that's pretty ridiculous. And so naive I was to think that I would be able to find a job to support my habits, plus pay rent and bills, too. I can't even really think back on it without cringing. I could have used that money for a car, a down payment on apartment, medical stuff, dental stuff. I was in a horrible state of denial for so long, probably age

12 to age 22. Ten years of depression, denial, psychological decline. At least I'm still young. Whatever! Right? Who cares? Nervous breakdowns happen all the time! If that's what it even was. I don't like to put labels on things.

Something cute, furry, and happy to look at.

This week went by pretty fast. Still, I'm tired. Very blah right now. I talked to an old friend today; sometimes even though you have grudges, you have to be like, 'so what'. As you get older, you might need to have a few people you can always call. I'm learning that the future is not a faraway thing and time moves so fast. No one is impenetratable or invincible.

Except Mickey Rourke.

Swoon.

I've been looking at pics of Hilary Swank for hair inspiration. I can embrace looking a bit like her on a good day. That's a great thing, actually. I don't see it, but I have the same sort of mouth/teeth/facial situation. Her grooming and style is light years beyond mine, though, being an A-list celeb and all. Oh well.

Vacaciones is creeping closer, evvvver so slowwwwly. My diet plan isn't really coming to fruition as much as I thought it would, though. It's not really even made a dent. I think working nights has hampered what metabolism I do, or did, have. I've stopped eating nights, too, just coffee and water. I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting to nothing. I've learned to stop wishing for size 2. Just because I'm tall doesn't equal automatic thinness. Supermodels don't eat, they musn't even be able to breathe the scent of cake for fear of gaining half a pound. I'm over trying to kill myself w/ a diet or 'lifestyle change', if you want to call it that. It's all the same. I've been size 2, even a size 0 at Old Navy, where their clothing runs larger. Maybe it really is all about portion control. I don't really feel like I'm very out of control of anything, though. I think I'm ok. Once I get very thin, my period starts to act haywire, and I can't go down that road again.

October Rust

I'm pretty happy that it's October, and also that it's Sunday. Two good things. Last night wasn't too bad. It's never perfect.

Today's a nice day: cold, gray, and dark. The sun is taking longer to come up, daylight savings is coming soon. My trip to NYC is about a month away. I'm realizing I won't have enough money to do all the things I wanted to do, to get myself ready and looking/feeling good before I go. Oh well. At least I'm going.

I still have nervousness about things though. The semipermanence of things. Things now are pretty permanent, but there is the 10 percent part of the little pie that is titled the 'not knowing
part'. I'm just going to leave that alone, though, or try to.

I found a yoga center in Oakland, about 20 minutes from my apartment: it seems pretty great:
they offer therapy, deep tissue massges, acupuncture, and they have a cute boutique where they sell yoga clothes, mats, bags, etc. Plus the classes are fairly cheap and they offer all kinds of specials. I'm going to go soon, one Sunday evening or Monday morning. I really need to do something for myself that is social, but not too social. I want to really get into it and let my life flow in a more peaceful way, w/ less blockage from all sorts of negative people/energy. I just don't need it anymore. I can't dwell on it, I can't think about it, I can't have it in my life. I'm not going into my 30s still wondering or feeling bad over shit that happened when I was 23 years old. I really feel like centering myself with yoga and taking classes will be a big positive. I can't go every day b/c of work, but even one or two a week will be good. I need to do a lot of re-tooling on myself. I've fallen into a slump.

Coffee shops play the worst music sometimes.

Sometimes I think that being alone is a good thing. I really do. It's hassle-free. Burden-free. I guess companionship is what everyone covets, but it just seems to bring a tons of heartache, eventually. Break-ups and fights. Repeat and repeat. I can't handle things like that. I don't care to even deal with the possibility of a situation like that. People get lazy, or scared of being alone, or they want someone to financially depend on. So many people marry or get involved for the wrong reasons. Sometimes I feel a huge disconnect from other people, as humans. It's Sunday morning, and early, and I'm not really into debating things on my blog, but I had to touch on that. California is such a strange place. It's such a magnet for horrible low lifes, horrible yuppies, wannabe gurus, wannabes in general. If you have a lot of success, that's great, but I just feel like there is something so strange and slightly off about people out here. Maybe it's me, maybe it's not me.

I've thought about trying to move to Philadelphia. There's affordable housing and probably more jobs than other places. And it's back East, slightly familiar scenery. I've got to do something. Make some kind of change. I can't just be in California forever. I don't feel like it will be good for me if I wake up in 10 years, still living here. That thought gives me the bad chills, actually. Very bad.

Moving is the worst kind of hassle, and I can't imagine dragging my possessions across the country. Apartments don't fall out of the sky. Landlords are suspicious by nature and most of them check credit. If they don't, they're either extremely cool and understanding about life's difficulties, or the place is kind of bogus on some level. I think there's a chance that I could move
back East and still keep my job, but it probably would be a slim chance. Also, I'm not sure if Philly is very walkable, but I think it might be. I went down there once and it wasn't too bad. Same things every other city has, crime, violence, some shadiness. You can't escape that unless you move back to the suburbs, I guess. If I did move to Philly, I would have to have a cash cushion and a place to go immediately. Maybe it would be good, a good decision, good place to go. Kind of new territory, but close to some familiarity. If I wanted to visit my aunt, I could take a train and be there in an hour, not fly six hours across the GD country. I just don't want to be out here anymore. I feel so disconnected and I just don't like it. It's not my place. I don't love it here.