I'm really not used to being an optimist. Those of you who know me might think, really? But Sherri's always full of crystalline rainbow dust that flies out of her face when she smiles and coats everything around her with a sheer, flowery glow. Snort. I know I'm young and I don't really know anything. I can think I know things, I can feel like I know things, but then someone can come along and actually CHANGE the way I see the world. It's like always wearing clothing that never fits right. It's not the right color (totally clashes with my orange hair) and is rumpled and pleated in the wrong places, but I wear it everyday because this is how clothing has always fit me. Then some beautiful cloth shows up and I throw it over my head and it makes me look like an entire different person. I realize that I've been wearing stiff, starchy, over-sized pants my entire life. Yes, I'm comparing the new man in my life to a pair of well-fitting jeans, but if you've ever loved a great pair of jeans, then you understand the comparison.
I'm grateful that I spent a year alone, though. I learned how to survive on silence and good books, Pretty Lights, daydreaming, and lots of rice. I ached with loneliness and thrived on solitude. I started sleeping diagonally in my bed having full conversations with my cat. I watched way too much Greys Anatomy, got wine drunk frequently and danced by myself all the time. These are all good things, but I've always known that I'm not meant to be by myself. I'm a nurturer. I'm a lover. When the reality of my solitary existence caught up with me in-between glasses of Shiraz and lengthy, restless naps, it would shock me with a moment of bright-white intensity. If I let my guard down, fear would come sneaking in and wrap itself around my brain. Regret would lounge on my couch and stare at me while I was getting dressed.
Then things happen. Things change, as they always do (and always will). I decided to try to put myself out there using technology as a medium to project a vague idea of myself into the world, maybe make an impact on somebody. Maybe somebody would see it and think about me. Maybe there are people out there that actually do give a legitimate shit about what a girl has to say. I didn't respond to any of the forty or fifty messages I received. They were all so empty, so desperately grabbing that it saddened me. What have I done, I thought to myself as I opened up my okcupid profile on my Droid at work and browsed through the messages from men who thought I was pretty, or wanted me to come over for dinner (before even talking to me to see if we had anything in common... yeah, no thanks.) One stood out, though, so I responded. I had no idea that a conversation about how difficult it is to eat out as a vegan would turn into something so passionate and enveloping that a month later, I still can't get enough. I have never met someone like him.
To the lovers of the world, keep your chins held high, because there are more of us than there are of them. We will find each other and we will make each other's lives warmer.
- +i'm feeling : full
Broke the glass on one of my pictures. It's even better now. Can't hold these paper wings back.
Looking for the key to set me free
Oh the jealousy, the greed is the unraveling
It's the unraveling
And it undoes all the joy that could be
I want to have fun, I want to shine like the sun
I want to be the one that you want to see
I want to knit you a sweater
Want to write you a love letter
I want to make you feel better
I want to make you feel free
There's something about Joni Mitchell's lyrics that wrap my mind around warm, beautiful thoughts.
There aren't even words for my state of mind right now but I need to keep writing, so I'm going to try. There's a pale, effervescent sense of life simmering right below my skin recently. I don't know what's causing it but dammit, it's pretty awesome. I have a million ideas of things to do that I can't find the time to do them all. Maybe it's all this exercise that I've been getting, but I have more mental energy than I've had in... well, as far back as I can remember. The numbness that I always wished for never came and the amount of suffering that has plagued my mind for so long has taught me more than it has hurt me. I know that suffering never really ends but to be able to put it aside for awhile and breathe again... I feel renewed.
- +i'm feeling : optimistic
- +i'm rocking out to :Joni Mitchell's "All I Want"
I adopted a cat in December 2003 from a shelter in Orange county that had brought some of their animals to Petsmart in Fredericksburg. My years-long high school relationship had just come to a screeching halt and to bring me out of my 'can't eat, can't sleep' depression, my parents offered to let me adopt an animal. This was a big deal, considering the animals we had in the past seemed hell-bent on destroying my mother's house in some way or another. I set out on the day after Christmas, in all my emo glory, black hair and Get Up Kids shirt included intent on adopting a kitten. When we got to the store, there was a cage of kittens performing adorable tricks to an audience of folks and there was no doubt that they'd all find homes. Probably immediately, with all of their cuteness and acrobatics.
My sad heart couldn't help but notice the row of cages beside the kittens, each one containing a full-grown cat, and they were all sitting calmly and watching everybody cooing over the kittens. It was almost as if they understood that their being full-grown meant they wouldn't get adopted. They seemed to accept this fate, just sitting and staring. I decided to take a walk down this row of cages and give them some love because no one else was doing it, dammit. There was one that stood out from the rest. She obviously was NOT okay with being in this cage. She was pressing her body against the cage door, begging for someone to touch her.
I decided at that moment that I had to hold her. I understood how she felt, almost. I felt alone and dejected after that break-up, and she looked so alone and freaked out in that little cage. I felt a oneness with her. They opened the cage door and I pulled her out. She buried her head in the crook of my elbow and fell asleep.
After taking her home, I named her Honey (for some retarded reason) and she hasn't left my side since. Her name has evolved over the years... Honey, Little McKittles, Miss Kitty, Missy K, Missy. She's grown fatter and much furrier. She loves chicken and hates wind of any kind.
I'm beginning to believe that this creature derives so much joy from driving me completely crazy. I love that she's talkative, don't get me wrong. But after two hours of hearing about her day, I'm about to jump out the window.
"Meow. Meow. Meow. ... MEOW. MEOW!!! MEOW meow meow... mrrrrrwooooowowowowoww......."
I wish she could talk, because I'm sure she's telling me how she slept on the corner of the bed. All day! It was awesome I slept and slept then I had to pee so I went in my litter box. I had a little snack then licked myself for two hours, you should have been there, it was such an exciting day. I thought about knocking everything on the nightstand on the floor but the books made such a loud noise that I stopped there, I figured I'd try again later....
I love cats. But this one, damn, she's really something else. I hope I have many more years of hearing that purry voice constantly trying to communicate with me.
- +i'm at :Old Dirrty Orf
- +i'm feeling : happy
- +i'm rocking out to :Sneaker Pimps
I should never tell myself how late I'm going to sleep because a dude with a lawnmower will always make sure it doesn't happen. But he'll only fire it up after yelling back and forth to his buddies a few yards over about where they're gonna eat lunch. I appreciate the clean cut grass. But at 0930 on my day off.... grumble.
Today is going to be pretty fantastic, though. Really I should go outside and shake that man's hand for awakening me early so I can git to the laundromat and go pay my rent and all of those lovely errands that I've reserved for this beautiful day. Its going to be hottt..... beeeachh? Quite possibly. And making spicy black bean burgers for dinner... and checking out Planet Fitness and getting my sweat on, I'm sure I'll feel fantastic by tonight and the fact that I was awakened way early by a burly black dude yelling about Hardees will be but a distant memory.
Posted via LiveJournal app for Android.
- +i'm at :Redgate Ave, Norfolk City
Everyone told me it would happen and I've always begrudgingly believed them. After all, I've been single for a year and a few months now -- the longest I've ever been single since I hit puberty. I have a history of codependency and depression that has made being single feel like hell on earth. But I discovered the most beautiful thing tonight.
I went for dinner on the Oceanview Pier tonight with some dear friends of mine. I love the water... I'm a fish at heart, I swear. Lightning lit up the sky in the distance and the waves crashed against the beach, it was mesmerizing. When everyone decided to depart, being that I had driven myself there, I decided to detour along the beach. The rich dark that surrounded me beckoned and I kept walking along the shoreline. I removed my shoes and put my feet in the surf. I was surprised to find it wasn't even that cold, being that it's only April I expected freezing water, but it was pretty mild. I walked until I was away from everybody and everything, and the pier was a child's toy in the distance.
I began to realize something.
Nobody was expecting me to be home. Nobody needed me to be any place, and nobody was wondering where I was. I could stay on the beach as long as I wanted. Hell, I could go all the way in and swim if I wanted. Who the hell cares? I didn't go all the way in (some couple had followed me and were about thirty feet away, being super cute, and I didn't want to go thrashing in the water like a little kid and ruin the ambiance.) However, I did go in thigh-deep. My adorable, brightly colored tie-dye dress got soaked. I stood there for an hour, letting the waves rise and crash right behind me. For the first twenty minutes or so, I felt agonized. All I wanted was someone to share this beautiful feeling with, someone to splash around with me. Someone to look into the unceasing blackness of the water with me, to appreciate the depth of the horizon, the grit of the sand. It hurt being there alone. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. No one was there with me. I was there myself, it was my decision to be there, and I decided when I would leave. I decided how far in I would go.
It was like seeing my first sunrise.
I felt an amazing happy peacefulness that I haven't experienced while being alone. A deep calm settled over me, undoubtedly provoked by the swish and crash of the water at my feet. I never wanted to leave, I wanted to stand right there and keep feeling it, I was afraid I'd lose it.
After an hour, I realized it was time to leave. I picked up my shoes and my purse and made my way to my car. Wringing out my dress by my drivers side door onto my sandy feet to wash them off, I started laughing. I haven't felt so good in a long time.
I think I just discovered the beauty of being alone. Anyone who knows me will know that I never, ever expected to find that. But I think it just happened. The Grateful Dead "Live in '79" accompanied me home with my windows all the way down. I walked barefoot and in a soaking wet dress back to my apartment from my parking spot.
Is this the beginning of something, or the end of something? Or both? I wish I knew. I wish I knew anything. I wish I knew everything. I want to go back to the beach.
- +i'm feeling : tired
1. Someone shared someone else's random status update where they were complaining about President Obama's daughter taking a spring break trip to Mexico. "On our dime, planes and secret service and all, and I can't even afford the gas to get to Ohio!"
2. Someone questioned the validity of one of the details in the post, and the person that shared it admitted openly (and without shame) that he didn't know if it was true or not, he was just sharing it.
THE FUCK, DUDE.
Okay, the president makes a few hundred grand a year, plus whatever he gets from lobbyists. That's the real, sorry if no one likes it or if it's wrong. Every president makes about the same amount of money from the job they do. If I made that kind of money, would I send my kid on a fantastic trip to another country to experience culture and have a good time? Fuck yeah I would, you would too. On our dime? Okay, so the president's salary comes from the giant imaginary endless pool of taxpayer dollars so technically it's on our dime, but if that's how you think, so is every sandwich he eats or every porno he rents on blu-ray. It's his fucking money, he can spend it like he wants. If he wants to do something awesome for his little girl and let her see part of the world, that's a good thing in my eyes.
And the fact that the person who posted the original status update included that they were pissed because they could not afford the gas to get to Ohio, oh so sorry you're broke, what the fuck does that have to do with anything? Yes, President Obama is sitting in the white house, laughing maniacally about gas prices. He's holding all the strings and yelling DANCE PUPPETS DANCE in-between taxpayer funded single malt scotch drinks.
Get fucking real. Shit like this makes me hate facebook.