and i say oh...seems like i'm always on my own, seems like i'm never coming home, seems like i'm always on my...ohhhhhhh, all the stars and boulevards ain't close enough for you...
~augustana, stars and boulevards, all the stars and boulevards
there are some days that end & i think to myself, that i really wish i could get a do over because i feel that i didn't do myself right by the end of it. today, is one of those days. ok, well, maybe not TECHNICALLY today, cause it's technically 4am on sunday & i haven't really done enough to royally fuck up the day.
but saturday. for saturday i wish i could have a do over.
not that anything significant really happened: good or bad. but i just got home & realized that when all was said & done, the checks measured against the balances, everything weighed out & measured: i really did myself a disservice. the exact details are not even really that important, so i won't even mention them, but the general tone & over arching path of the night are what is the important part. & what happened was, once again, in the end i acquiesced to someone else's wishes & gave up too easily on what i wanted to do, what was the best for me.
like i said previously, nothing bad happened, nothing good either. but i don't feel good about the path of the events of my night. i allowed myself to be persuaded from my plans to do something that, in the end, was not nearly as enjoyable or satisfying, to my mind, as what i could have been doing. of course, i can't say for certain that things would have been better had i stuck to my original plans, but i do feel i wouldn't have this feeling of discontent with myself.
how does augustana & the above lyrics fit in? there are a couple of ways the lyrics fit into this rambling rant. for one, the first actually, is that i was sitting curled up in bed with my lappy & that song was playing on my ipod. & i caught those lyrics as i was listening to my ipod & the tone of the song & the lyrics peaked my attention & i realized the song is doing a great job of mimicking my emotional & mental state right now.
i just suddenly realized how disappointed i am for not following through on my original plan, what i wanted to do, & letting myself be taken along on this ride. & i also realized for me, it's not just the big battles, but the everyday small ones that actually seem to matter the most. & it's those small little issues daily, or every other day, or how ever often they happen, that are the things that will shape the arch of my life the most.
jenn was right when she texted me earlier: i was "not happy" tonight. it's not that i was sad per se, or depressed, or even upset; but i was not happy either. i was at that point where i was not happy, but not really anything else either. a sort of emotional limbo zone. partly because there was something in my brain that knew i would not be ok by the end of the night if i continued on with the way things were, but the feeling wasn't well formed enough for me to vocalize it to jenn, much less to my self.
it's the small things i need to stand up for.
getting glimpses of my home, but i just can't quite get there. it's like which brings me to the second reason for the lyric choice for today's writing. coming home is not just a physical place. it's a mental & emotional state of being. & lately i do feel that i'm on a track & i roll through my home town, but something keeps preventing me from getting off the train, so i see home, i'm there for a moment, & then i'm rolling through it, away from it, having to wait to circle around again to try to hop off the train & finally go home for good.
i guess that's progress, a bit anyway, to start to identify my problem. according to AA, (from what i've been told anyway, i'm not actually in AA), the first step to solving your problem is admitting that you have one. this is nothing new either. just different packaging on the same thoughts. except, previously the lament had been mn beckah vs cali beckah, so in a way it's much simpler now. as sinead put it in her comments to me on a previous blog: i've always been both of those people, they're the same person, just different facets, & i'm both all the time always. which means, even while i'm not being true to myself, on nights like tonight, i still have that stubborn girl inside me who is standing with her feet planted, eyes steady & serious, saying: NO, i will do what i want, i will do what's best for me, & you can fuck off if you try to interfere.
this is NOT to say that i am opposed to compromise, because i'm not in anyway opposed to a little give & take. when it's appropriate for the situation. but i can't always be the one to give on what i want. if i am always going to bend the most on my opinions, feelings, plans, everything, then i may have well stayed with TSSOB & i know that's not a place that i would have been ok. i'm smart enough that usually i can tell what issues are worth dying for (to quote my mother).
each day is a new chance to turn it all around again, right? right. so i'm going to bed now, for a while. then, when i wake up. it's my new chance, once again. & i'll keep reminding myself, through every action of my day, that i need to be good to myself & put myself first. because, gods know, if i don't put myself first, no one else is going to. just the rules of the game, fats. & ya can't win the game if ya don't know the rules of the game.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Sunday, October 21, 2007
a wee quick note
i am currently in connecticut, my older sister got married yesterday. now that the wedding is over i'm hoping to post two thoughts of the week later today & get back to blogging. this has been one long strange trip this week.
oi.
oi.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
& i /heart my friends because:
~going through my email tonight at work & i found the following message from miss april & it seems so appropriate, just had to share, this was in response to this blog posting (& yes, i do realize lately i've been spinning around the same few topics. i'll try to be more well rounded & whine about being fat more often)~
Yep.
I don’t really know how to respond to your post! *l*
It sounds like you want to be this person who
You were when you were coming back from the Playa, and
You’re stuck being MN Beckah. Seriously? You keep
Approaching this theme in your blogs…and you keep
Outlining plans of attack (YAY!!) but again, it’s like the
Same conversation you keep having with Kat and John…
It’s not going too far ….
Be selfish and cling to your alone time to write and ponder
Those wondrous ideas and thoughts I know you have. Make some
Headway with your goals. :-) You’ll feel better.
Goal 1) Work
Goal 2) Work Out
Goal 3) Write
Goal 4) Travel!
Simplify the way you live your life. :-)
Yep.
I don’t really know how to respond to your post! *l*
It sounds like you want to be this person who
You were when you were coming back from the Playa, and
You’re stuck being MN Beckah. Seriously? You keep
Approaching this theme in your blogs…and you keep
Outlining plans of attack (YAY!!) but again, it’s like the
Same conversation you keep having with Kat and John…
It’s not going too far ….
Be selfish and cling to your alone time to write and ponder
Those wondrous ideas and thoughts I know you have. Make some
Headway with your goals. :-) You’ll feel better.
Goal 1) Work
Goal 2) Work Out
Goal 3) Write
Goal 4) Travel!
Simplify the way you live your life. :-)
thought of the week: october 7-13
hey now now, don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got till it's gone, they paved paradise to put up a parking lot
~counting crows, big yellow taxi
i heard this song this morning & i've always loved it, even though it's kind of sad, despite the upbeat tempo. for all of you that have heard it before i'm pretty sure you're humming it now, right? i'm right, aren't i?
the reason i've picked this song is that while it's not outwardly deep, ie jimmy eat world or some of the other lyrics i've been posting recently, it does make me think, which is always a good thing. & this is something that seems to be fairly prevalent at times, taking away the beautiful & replacing it with something more utilitarian, more ugly, with a whole lot less soul. near my parents' house recently several wooded areas have been bulldozed & replaced with town homes stacked upon each other. changing the face of st. paul, one block at a time from a city full of neighborhoods to house upon house upon house with no green space.
it's not that i'm against progress, because, really i'm not. but sometimes we each need to identify the things in our lives that speak the truest to us, the most beautiful, the most sacred, the things that we are absolutely unwilling to part with at any cost. & when we find those, we need to shield them, shelter them, protect them at any cost. & that's where i find myself at this exact moment.
i'm back in class right now. my very LAST in classroom class for my master's degree. i know i've thought that before, probably even said it, but this really is it. after this i won't take another one. this is the do or die moment for me. i'm taking a class called writing the suspenseful novel. by the time the class ends in december i will have made a decision. i will either a: give up the idea of doing two thesi* (one in poetry & one in fiction) & come to terms with the fact that i am not superwoman & settle for an mfa with just a poetry book or b: i'll have enough progress done on my novel to finish it up & go ahead with the insane plan on writing & defending two thesi. i've been told by plenty of people, miss sinead the loudest (with lots of love of course) to quit messing around & finish the damn degree already. & i really want to. finally. i'm ready to be done with school.
but, this isn't about school. it isn't even about being in a holding pattern. it's about me. beckah. beckah the good little worker in her cube. beckah the writer. beckah the sister. beckah the daughter. beckah the friend. beckah the lover. & how do i combine all of these into a person that i love completely every day? someone that i'm proud to be? not that i'm ashamed of who i am now, because i am not in anyway. i've done things that i would rather not have flashed across the front pages of the strib or the pioneer press, but everyone has those things in their past. anyone who doesn't is either very boring or a filthy liar.
what this is about is the fact that last night during class while listening to one of my classmates talk about working just part time & being mainly a full time student i wanted to cry. not just cry, but sob. that deep down cry that settles so deep in your chest it feels like it will never be gone. the kind of cry that leaves a wound in the center of your chest on your sternum. the kind of cry that lingers because even when the tears are gone, the hurt is far from being gone & you're left with an ache & a longing & a pain so deep it defies definition. that's how i felt.
cause.
cause.
i miss it so so bad. at that moment, listening too my classmate talk about waking up at noon and still getting to write for four or more hours before class i was so envious for a moment. not the deep seated dangerous green jealousy that come from money, power, or lust. but the envy of the freedom of that life style. the passion & the dedication. the drive & desire. the fact that somehow i've lost that in my life. i'm trying to remember when the last time was that i really made my writing a priority. & there's moments when i wonder, have i traded all that in for someone else's dream? i never strove to be white collar, that was my sister. how have i found myself at this point?
yes. yes. yes. yes. i know. same self centered self-pitying line of the past. except. maybe not. because, i was so happy to feel that ache. it meant that i still really care. & that is priceless. because if i didn't hurt it would mean that i don't care that i'm not writing. that it doesn't matter if i have writing as a priority in my life. that really would have been the worst part of it all. if i had listened to my classmates talk about their several hours of writing that they do each day & it was no more than mild interest to me. then i would have had a problem. but, since i got so upset it's actually a very good sign for me.
i met with deborah, my advisor today. & we're putting in a plan of action. i'm going to graduate in 2008. planning on defending my thesis in december of 2008. & then i'll walk in may of 2009. & so i'm trying to get myself back to that obsessive girl that didn't go anywhere without her notebook & pen. the one who sneaked in writing time where ever she went. the girl that lived, breathed, & died by the written word, at all times. that's the beckah that i miss so much. & that's the one who can be everything else: sister, daughter, friend, lover.
*i do realize thesi is not a word, but i like it better than thesises which is a real word
~counting crows, big yellow taxi
i heard this song this morning & i've always loved it, even though it's kind of sad, despite the upbeat tempo. for all of you that have heard it before i'm pretty sure you're humming it now, right? i'm right, aren't i?
the reason i've picked this song is that while it's not outwardly deep, ie jimmy eat world or some of the other lyrics i've been posting recently, it does make me think, which is always a good thing. & this is something that seems to be fairly prevalent at times, taking away the beautiful & replacing it with something more utilitarian, more ugly, with a whole lot less soul. near my parents' house recently several wooded areas have been bulldozed & replaced with town homes stacked upon each other. changing the face of st. paul, one block at a time from a city full of neighborhoods to house upon house upon house with no green space.
it's not that i'm against progress, because, really i'm not. but sometimes we each need to identify the things in our lives that speak the truest to us, the most beautiful, the most sacred, the things that we are absolutely unwilling to part with at any cost. & when we find those, we need to shield them, shelter them, protect them at any cost. & that's where i find myself at this exact moment.
i'm back in class right now. my very LAST in classroom class for my master's degree. i know i've thought that before, probably even said it, but this really is it. after this i won't take another one. this is the do or die moment for me. i'm taking a class called writing the suspenseful novel. by the time the class ends in december i will have made a decision. i will either a: give up the idea of doing two thesi* (one in poetry & one in fiction) & come to terms with the fact that i am not superwoman & settle for an mfa with just a poetry book or b: i'll have enough progress done on my novel to finish it up & go ahead with the insane plan on writing & defending two thesi. i've been told by plenty of people, miss sinead the loudest (with lots of love of course) to quit messing around & finish the damn degree already. & i really want to. finally. i'm ready to be done with school.
but, this isn't about school. it isn't even about being in a holding pattern. it's about me. beckah. beckah the good little worker in her cube. beckah the writer. beckah the sister. beckah the daughter. beckah the friend. beckah the lover. & how do i combine all of these into a person that i love completely every day? someone that i'm proud to be? not that i'm ashamed of who i am now, because i am not in anyway. i've done things that i would rather not have flashed across the front pages of the strib or the pioneer press, but everyone has those things in their past. anyone who doesn't is either very boring or a filthy liar.
what this is about is the fact that last night during class while listening to one of my classmates talk about working just part time & being mainly a full time student i wanted to cry. not just cry, but sob. that deep down cry that settles so deep in your chest it feels like it will never be gone. the kind of cry that leaves a wound in the center of your chest on your sternum. the kind of cry that lingers because even when the tears are gone, the hurt is far from being gone & you're left with an ache & a longing & a pain so deep it defies definition. that's how i felt.
cause.
cause.
i miss it so so bad. at that moment, listening too my classmate talk about waking up at noon and still getting to write for four or more hours before class i was so envious for a moment. not the deep seated dangerous green jealousy that come from money, power, or lust. but the envy of the freedom of that life style. the passion & the dedication. the drive & desire. the fact that somehow i've lost that in my life. i'm trying to remember when the last time was that i really made my writing a priority. & there's moments when i wonder, have i traded all that in for someone else's dream? i never strove to be white collar, that was my sister. how have i found myself at this point?
yes. yes. yes. yes. i know. same self centered self-pitying line of the past. except. maybe not. because, i was so happy to feel that ache. it meant that i still really care. & that is priceless. because if i didn't hurt it would mean that i don't care that i'm not writing. that it doesn't matter if i have writing as a priority in my life. that really would have been the worst part of it all. if i had listened to my classmates talk about their several hours of writing that they do each day & it was no more than mild interest to me. then i would have had a problem. but, since i got so upset it's actually a very good sign for me.
i met with deborah, my advisor today. & we're putting in a plan of action. i'm going to graduate in 2008. planning on defending my thesis in december of 2008. & then i'll walk in may of 2009. & so i'm trying to get myself back to that obsessive girl that didn't go anywhere without her notebook & pen. the one who sneaked in writing time where ever she went. the girl that lived, breathed, & died by the written word, at all times. that's the beckah that i miss so much. & that's the one who can be everything else: sister, daughter, friend, lover.
*i do realize thesi is not a word, but i like it better than thesises which is a real word
thought of the week: september 30-october 6
you think for too long and then your chance is gone, the choice we're meant to make, is one we'll never take,
is there a time limit on a dream? on a wish? can years of inaction make any future action impossible? not that i'm in a dark place thinking that my time has passed me by, but these lyrics are somewhat haunting me none the less.
i've been resting on my laurels much too much lately. for instance, this is LAST WEEK'S thought of the week! & i'm just now getting it finished on october 9th! i've been in my master's program for six years come this february. i've been "working on losing weight" for, um, well, let's not talk about that one. my friend joey called me in june & i still haven't returned his call. just a lot of things that have been on my to-do list for far too long.
& it makes me wonder, what have i let slip through my fingers by my tendency towards inaction? or rather, delayed action? how has this impacted me? i don't know that i'll ever really know the true answer to that question. because you can imagine the road not taken, & postulate where those choices would have maybe led you, but there's no way to step out of this time that we're in & go live that parallel life. the one where i make decisions quickly & absolutely. where i'm a flutter of quick decisions & i don't look back on all the "maybe i should'ves" that are left behind me. & i don't think so long on something that my chance to make a choice is taken & i'm left with someone else's choice made for me.
so, here's to being decisive. to being on top of things. to not letting my to-do list pile up into an impossible task.
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