I am Zeus

I must be the God of Gods because Athena must be cutting through my skull with her axe trying to get out of my head, which seems to be the only explanation for this splitting headache that keeps terrorizing me. My caffeine quotient has been met so it couldn't possibly be that. In all likelihood it's sinuses, but that's not nearly has fun of a justification as an offspring making such a grand entrance into the world. I wish my entrance could be so grand, but I can still hold out for the finale.

Why do some people make it look so easy? Life seems so effortless. But for others you can tell that they struggle with it everyday. Is it merely ones outlook of the world that makes the difference? But that simplifies it too much. A rose bush doesn't yield a beautiful bud merely because it resides in good soil. Life, like nature, factors in many elements to achieve a specific result. Now as a gardener there are certain measures you can take to grow the best rose you can, but no matter what fertilizers you use, how much you water it, where the sun hits it, you could do everything right but you have to start with a good seed.

It's a sad thought to think that no matter what you do in life you might not be able to be as good as someone else. Why do some people get to be born with certain innate talents? Some people fight to discover what they are good at possibly never to find the answer. But maybe the more fulfilling life is that of the explorer maybe the adventure resides in the search of your niche rather than in the actual niche. It's the old breath vs. depth argument. Is it better to know a lot about a little or a little about a lot?

These ideas remind me of my elementary school mantra: "do your best." More specifically our cheese school song:

Know with Hillbrook. Grow with Hillbrook.
A search for knowledge is our quest.
A family sharing. A place for caring.
You and I will do our best.

I can't believe I remember that, although I think I fudged some of the words, but you get the point. To do our best should be enough. To seek knowledge should provide meaning. But would if none of it is enough. Maybe some people's innate talent is incompleteness. Restlessness, never being content maybe that is a talent. Some people never want to strive for more than they are they never want to be any different. Some people don't want to move from the spot they are in. Only 11% of Americans have passports, merely have them not just using them. Some people are comfortable in their boundaries. Maybe my talent is that I am not. If isn't not then I still have the Goddess chopping her way through my skull which would be an equally great talent for the circus freak show. It's good know I have something to fall back on in case I never find what I am actually meant to do.

Burn, baby, burn.

I'm so fucking tired that my body actually burns from exhaustion. My body has seized functioning with my earlier morning wake up calls. This, I'm sure, is a telltale sign that my body as wells as my psyche can't deal with the alarm going off at 5am for five straight days. It's just unnatural to wake up that early. My poor sleep cycle has been conditioned for the past 24 years not to wake up before the tender hour of eight or at least seven. It's hard to recondition your sleep patterns especially if you've worked extra hard to set a consistent one. I've not adjusted my patterns probably for fear of commitment to these hours. To adapt would be to surrender to this job, this I will never do.

I want so badly for December to be over and it hasn't even begun. I've felt like this for the past two weeks and yet December won't even commence let alone end. It's not the holidays that I dread, I like the mood and spirit at this time; I just don't want to work two jobs during the season. But we do what we have to do. Life as it turns out sucks, and holds no hope for me. Hey, I'm dealing with that, for a change. I can know what I have to do. I can do what I have to do. I just don't have to like what I have to do. Maybe it is better to suffer during the holidays because at least there the immense pleasure and joy infused in the air that it balances the torture out better than it would during the rest of the year when everyone and everything, to use the dialect of the season, are Scrooges.

All I know is that today I could go home and sleep. There's a high likelihood that I might sleep through new years if my body's tiredness is any indication. If only sleeping through the rest of 2004 was possible then I would believe in Christmas miracles. Until that time comes, I will just have to rely on ABC family's 25 days of Christmas to provide my miracles.

Fed up...with food

Oh, the hurt. The torture. The pain-full has set in. Today we had a huge Thanksgiving feast transpire during the course of the day in which I ate twenty courses in the place of just one. The pain becomes so immense that I just want to lay flat on the bathroom floor in hope of regurgitating it soon. Why, God, why? Is there a reason that I am so masochistic?

The sad part is that I didn't think I was taking that much food. Just a little bit of everything, I thought that would be a safe bet. Trust me when I tell you that you should never take those odds, instead of busting you'll be bursting. They both hurt equally. Suddenly every organ in my body hates me. My stomach has to take over more space so the rest of them are crammed together.

My brain evolves into a more fluid state than usual, probably because of all the soda floating around up there. My thoughts move quickly but then halt to a stop as my food brain mentality over takes my entire mind. Mind the gap. Currently it's an insurmountable space that my thoughts cannot jump over. Everything swims fast around there but has no place to escape. Who know, there might be brilliant world changing thoughts going on up there but I can't seem to get access to them. None of this makes sense, which is precisely the problem I write of. I'm lucid all the time now but at least in this moment there is an actual cause.

For me, most of the time the effect has no cause and the causes have no effect. I suppose that makes me a lost cause. Or on the bright side I'm just ineffective. Either way you look at it, the only commonality seems to be that neither makes any sense. But in all fairness, I did warn you; mind the gap.

I am such a little shit

It doesn't matter how wonderful or nice people are to me, I have no appreciation of it. In my mind I have painted this horrible picture of my work place; when today all people have shown me is, the love. But part of me thinks that it's just the holiday season. Then I get mad again. Because when people do nice things for me here I feel guilty for hating it and wanting to leave it. I don't like feeling guilty. Then I realize that my job is an abusive boyfriend. They metaphorically smack the hell out of me all year and then expect me to forgive them during the holidays when all the sudden they start treating me like an actual human being. What, now I'm suppose to thank my lucky stars for working for such a giving company? Yeah, give me a break.

It's not to say that I'm not thankful for the nice things that they do, it just means that I don't think a large feast erases the multitude of sins/infractions that have been lobed my way the rest of the year. It all stems from that death bed vision we all accept, everyone must forgive the dying person who confesses their plethora of sins committed over their lifetime. That with death all sins wash away.

If a father gives his son a bike for Christmas, only he beats his son the rest of the year. The son will be thankful for the great gift but it doesn't mean he won't use that bike to run away from his jackass father who kicks the crap out of him the other 364 days a year. So, yes I am thankful for being treated to gourmet lunches once a year. That is very polite, but I don't enjoy being treated like dirt the rest of the time only to be treated like royalty for one day. The problem with treating someone like royalty is that you expose them to a world they didn't know existed, a girl can become accustom to such treatment. Being royalty for the day is nice in theory but in reality it just lets you know what you are missing.

The person who really makes me feel guilty is my HR lady. I feel horrid because I do nothing to earn or garner her admiration yet she bestows it on me whole-hearted. This kills me because I feel as though I am betraying someone who has only ever looked out for my own self-interest. She has always gone to the mat for me. In fact, today she gave me a thank you letter from her baby shower that damn near made me cry. It made me feel like I was the smallest person in the world. She thanked me for the gift and then stated that she loves working for me which was followed with the statement that she intends on keeping me here. When I read that it made me feel like an ant from my perspective was a giant. She is one of the few people here who I enjoy working with and I don't want to let her down or hurt her feelings, but I am dying here. I can't stay in this situation because of a few people.

Not to drag out the abusive boyfriend analogy for too long, but you wouldn't stay with an abusive boyfriend because you really like some of his friends. So, yes I will feel guilty during the holiday season, I may even begin to think that I have misjudge the people/situation, but come the new year my resolution will still be the same. I can't let myself forget the other 10 months of the year. Bruises may fade with a little turkey and stuffing, but the deep cuts grow more infected the longer they are left unattended.

At the end of the day, guilt is a lot easier to get over than emotional scars. While some might see me as an ungrateful shit, I just won't be fooled by the sugar-coating. I might dream of sugarplum fairies, but I won't be tricked by the illusion of them. I am thankful for the individual acts I just am not going to let it change my opinion as a whole. Fool me at Christmas, shame on you. Fool me for the year, shame on me.

Just Another Manic Monday

I wish it were Sunday. Today I begin my double duty. I have a two hour break between jobs which I have little clue of what to do with them. There are so many errands that I need to do but feel that I don't have time to achieve them. I'm so tired. My body hates me and is soon to despise me when I close late at one job and open earlier at the other. I have to say that it sucks to have to work two jobs. I never thought I would be at this age in my life working more than one soul sucking job. But a girls got to do what a girls got to do.

Can't fake smile when people walk in this morning. Muscles are too tired to force to do anything. My eyes keep closing wanting never to open and see these surroundings again. Mondays are rough no matter if it is a short week or not. And for me it is not. I still only have two days off this entire week and they aren't even in a row. At least I will have a nice relaxing Thanksgiving. And no matter what I whine to myself about I still have a lot to be thankful for, it's just that isn't as fun. Plus, I hope never to be completely content otherwise there is no incentive to grown and learn.

Too exhausted to keep typing. Must maintain some manic for another day because lord know I have enough to go around. For me to say any day is manic is redundant. It's just another Monday.

What's Old is New Again

It is obvious that I have no clue what I am doing anymore. I look back at the shadow of what I use to be and I can't seem to feel any connection to it. I suppose I am Peter Pan in that way, my shadow has become detached from my being, the only difference is that I am not chasing it. Sometimes I worry that it is chasing me. How can I never escape something and yet have no connection to it. Paradoxes, they are a little bit of a paradox themselves.

I have been very sad and numb lately, like it isn't completely noticeable from my blog, but I now know what my problem is. I use to think that my problem was failure, it's not. My issue revolves around the state of limbo I've put my life in. I've come to the proverbial fork in the road. I know what the two roads are, I need to stop glaring at them. I must make a choice.

I sit here wallowing in my own self-pity, yet I do nothing to change my situation. I rest everything on this "dream" even though I'm not actively trying to seek it. I've shut down. I've been unproductive for too long. I need to start to work hard and produce a product or I have to give up the dream. It is stupid to torture myself with something that I do nothing to earn.

What the hell is wrong with me? Sitting back and waiting for shit to happen to me didn't work for the first 25 years of my life, why do I think the future will be anything different. For a little time I had settled on the notion of giving up entirely, I would redirect my life in a plausible future not an imaginary one. I had finally made peace with this decision. But dreams are more stubborn than I am. They are like an old flame that will not extinguish. Still, I also can't remember how to ignite it either. Damn paradoxes.

How can I feel so much and still feel nothing at all. I've grown too cynical and yet remain too optimistic. I've held on too tight but haven't grasped hard enough.

When will this cycle end. I've definitely gotten my money's worth but now I want off this merry-go-round. Now matter how hard I try I can't grasp the brass ring to throw into the clown's mouth. At the end of the day, now matter how big the circle that you spin around in is, you inevitably wind up at the same place.

The funny thing is that now I am trying to recapture the excitement that I once had. It's like trying to fall in love again with a love that was once lost. I want the wonder back. I want the seemingly undying belief that anything and everything is possible back. I want the thrill of the fight back. I want Santa Claus back and everything that belief entails.

Maybe if I had Santa Claus's work ethic, then I might see my dream become it's own magical universe. I might be dead inside, but I guess I'm hoping that the spirit of Christmas lives dormant inside of me and that all I need is to unleash it again. It's funny how it is my youth that is old to me, I merely have to find out how to make it new again. I might not have a clue but I still know the path of least resistance, surprisingly it turns out to be the opposite of what I expected. Now I just have to learn how to expect more from myself, I'm hoping that will make all the difference.

In Sickness and in Health

Sometimes all you need is a good cold in order to clear your head.

Mr. Livingston I presume

I am still high on adrenaline since Ron Livingston has once again blessed this establishment with his presence. Only this time there was a difference, he walked straight in and gave me a huge smile then said "hello." I wasn't prepared for that smile, thus it resulted in me losing all memory in my head. When I called to let the people know that he was here, I couldn't remember his name instead I said, "your client is here." To which he responded by saying, "Ron Livingston." I'm such an idiot, but I don't really care since he will forget my existence the instant he gets on the elevator. Damn, last time I played it so cool. Oh well, what are you going to do. But at the end of the day all that matters is that I got to see him again and that is plenty to suffice me.

At the top of a dried up well looking down.

I feel as though life is a series of events that you talk yourself into doing. There is nothing innate in what I do; nothing drives me other than boredom. It is amazing the lengths I go to in order to satiate my need for any remnants of excitement. Case in point, I develop crushes in order to divert my attention from the monotony that surrounds me. I pick a person that peaks my interest in least bit, then I edit his actions and personality to suit my ideal.

It is sad because when you have a crush on some character that is loosely based on someone then the actual character in your head represents you falling for yourself. I have found a new target. But for once I am trying to talk myself out of the crush but it is hard because I've worked so long to develop a disposition whose survival depends on them. My problem is that I also make sure there is an additional safety guard besides my unreal expectations. I make sure that the person is involved, i.e. married, in a relationship, or best yet gay. This allows me to be the ultimate commitment phobic without having to admit it to myself.

Amazing what a little imagination and lack of direction can do. Idle actions facilitate a life that never has to actually be led. When you conduct your life in your head then it is easier to stop, play, and pause. You can do a 360-degree around a still image; there are no outside elements to factor in. But what makes one way of living infinitely better than the other? Is a life lived in your own internal universe really that much worse than a life emerged in the physical world. Why does life have to be defined by actions and reactions? Can't growth occur without a catalyst? Maybe the physical world is merely a springboard for life. This tangible world is just the starting point for a vastly unexplored universe that exists within all of us.

As a society we rely on the external to give validation to ourselves. But there are limitations to elements and physicality; there are no limits to the expansive planes of the mind. I can live a thousand minutes, a million days, and a billion years in my mind in mere seconds, I don't care what Einstein says about relativity because there is no way that the universe can do that. Maybe it is ok to use the outside world to spark creativity and inspiration for the internal nation that I rule. So there is no harm in my crushes and even if I forget that it's ok because he is engaged anyways.

Hello, I'm Old

And I am fine with that. I must say that I am relieved that the year of the quarter life crisis has concluded. I like to think that I wrapped it up with a bang by getting a holiday job at Crate and Barrel. It took all of fifteen minutes before she offered me that job, I know that it is sad when getting a job at a retail chain boost your self esteem, but it did. I feel like I am at least being proactive about life by trying to find solutions to minor problems that become major because they are ignored.

Once you admit that you are old rather than trying to hide from it, deny it, or not accept it, a certain amount of joy can be found. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I've always stressed about age because of expectations, not just those of society but mostly my interpretation of those imposed by society. If I disconnect myself from what I thought my life would be at this age. If I stop deeming myself a failure. If I realize that things will happen when they are meant to happen and when I am ready for them to happen. Then and only then can I find any semblance of happiness in this: age, moment, or life.

I feel anew. Once again it is like anything and everything is possible. I just have to believe and seek in order to find. Everyone always talks about how dirty the air is in LA, but today it seems crisp and clean to me because I am no longer polluting my mind or my being. I feel as though one chapter of my life is over and the other is about to begin.

Maybe all that I've said is just the birthday mind working, but I like to think that it is not since I am excited about my birthday and that is new to me. I usually despise my birthdays, that puts it mildly. Wow, even the bitchy co-workers are having no effect on me today. It just might be a new beginning after all. Hello, my name is Whitney. I'm old and mildly proud of it.

When hatred rules over self-interest

I just realized something that depresses me about last Tuesday even more than W winning a second term. A lot of people speculate or say that the reason that W won reelection on Tuesday was because of the gay marriage initiatives. I suspected as much, but then today I thought about that. I heard people speak of a right wing conspiracy, saying that the Republican campaign got the initiatives put on the ballots in all those states. I don't really believe that, although I don't think it beneath them. Their campaign was the most despicable of my time (that's not saying much since I only remember like four presidential elections).

Today it hit me. If Bush won because conservatives were driven to the polls by these individual initiatives that is truly tragic. That means that people thought voting on a proposition that infuses personal belief into law was more important than voting for the leader of the free world. Now that is a sad state of affairs. People let hate drag them to the polls rather than hope for a better tomorrow. It is necessary for people to actively participate in a democracy, so I am glad that those people went to the polls, I am merely disappointed in their method of getting there. And disagree with their choices but respect their right to voice them.

I am over the pain of last week. Although I still get sad every time I see a picture of Kerry. Now I have to start to write letters to my representatives and become more active in politics because now is when the real work begins. I need to find an organization to volunteer at, I think I want to see if there is an election reform lobby that needs help.

Youth t-shirts for the day after

Time to replace your "Vote or Die" t-shirts. I am starting a line of t-shirts gear towards the youth vote. The series is entitled: I was too busy...that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy blogging that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy pretending to care that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy trying to flee to Canada to escape the draft that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy taking my medication that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy attempting to hack the electronic voting that I forgot to vote.

*** I was too busy trying to get out the vote that I forgot to get out and vote.

Other random shirts:

*** Voting, that was today? I thought daylight saving time meant that Wednesday was really Tuesday.

*** I tried to call up TRL to vote but apparently there is no video on the countdown called "John Kerry."

*** Election in November? Don't they know that it is November sweeps?

*** I didn't mean to register to vote, I thought I was signing up for a credit card.

*** You mean I have to leave my house to vote? That is so 20th century.

*** I thought Vote or Die was an actual policy and I choose death.

*** Match.com didn't deem Kerry or Bush as my ideal match.

*** When they said to choice a party I thought that meant something totally different.

*** An election day held two days after Halloween, did they really expect me to be free of my hangover by then?

I waited in line to vote and all I got was this lousy provisional t-shirt.

Life is kicking my ass.

I’ve put up a fight, but today I acknowledge that I have gotten a major ass kicking from life. I try to deny it, but I can’t keep looking down at my legs and wonder where all the bruises came from. While I realize that I am down, I've been pretending that the slow motion kick to the stomach wasn’t coming. But today’s results just signal that which I already felt but was in too much shock to resister. That ray of hope is now a mere flicker. The buzzing in my head is the taunting of the halo-gen light drawing its last breath.

I breathe a deep sigh, not of relief rather of unwanting belief. The whispers in my ear are not that of a nation divide but of a nation decided. The unthinkable has been thought and the battle will go unfought. Meaning and wonder seem to be drifting away. Not knowing whether I will ever know what they look like if I ever encounter them again. Faith seems to have been proven a mirage. Yet, I'm stuck in the desert still thirsty and looking for anything to quench it.

I know nothing about everything. That which I held to be self-evident has self-destructed. I am left in the ruble in search of anything that makes sense. My life seems to be crumbling around me, one thing falling at a time but still one after another. Everything is chaos. An anarchical state exists within my being, and it is not a peaceful one. The conflict leads me to feel nothing after the long battles take a toll on my very spirit. At night when I retreat to my camp, I find that the extent of the wounds is too monstrous to recover from or overcome. Each day I get up to fight a losing battle. Moral is low, the troops begin to have little to grasp too.

I have screwed myself over. And the universe seems to be getting in line to have its chance. That which I cannot do myself, the powers that be have no problem compensating for. I don’t know what I am going to do a week from today; my birthday is bound to be a bloody day of the war. I hope that some troops will hold tight. Each soldier’s death leaves me a little more dead inside. I can't really say that I care about anything anymore. At least last night I had one thing keeping me motivated but now it is just another quick burning log thrown on the fire of discontent.

Today’s results are not the end; they just aren’t the beginning. Only history can truly judge our sins. But on this front, at least I drew my sword, it just sucks that the sole thing it came in contact with was air. At least on this issue I can sleep at night with a clear conscience. Although sleeping has never been the problem, rather it is just one more thing that makes it that much harder to get out of bed in the morning. Not like it wasn’t painful enough to move with all bruises. Let me tell you, when life sets out to kick your ass, it leaves no prisoners. In the smackdown of life, no bone is left unbroken.