Emotional barf.

Not having a very good day.

Have fun with this one people.

I’m sick and tired of being the one who tells everything and knows nothing.

I’m sick and tired of being the tagalong.

I’m sick and tired of being the one who is always hiding.

I’m sick and tired of you.

I’m sick and tired of being the one that’s always right— in the end.

I’m sick and tired of being the one that is always wrong— at the beginning.

I’m sick and tired of being the one who gets the brunt of your anger when I’m right.

I’m sick and tired of you.

I’m sick and tired of being guilty because your misery is my fault.

I’m sick and tired of being the weird one.

I’m sick and tired of being the stranger.

I’m sick and tired of you.

I’m sick and tired of being ignored.

I’m sick and tired of you demanding of me.

I’m sick and tired being demeaned. 

I’m sick and tired of you.

I’m sick and tired.

I’m sick.

I’m tired.

I’m done.

Thoughts.

There are some things that just... happen.

And I don't really understand why.
But they do.

And it's sometimes good.
And sometimes bad.
But they all work out.

A Warm Christmas~Vignette

How do you define home?

Mine’s probably different from yours.

A house can make a home, but your home is not always your house.

A home is where your heart is, an old cliche that actually rings true.

My house is a home, but not my own. 

Looking at me, no one could guess this, but I’m a country girl at heart. So mine lays in the heart of the great state of Texas, with my recently widowed grandmother

This.
Two years ago.

Stepping into an airport, Seattle chill slipping down our backs, a 5am ice cube wind creating goosebumps on our ribs. Boarding passes. Security. The same deal. 

No coats.

No shoes.

No belts.

Take the liquids out.

Walking under the grey arc, hoping you didn’t forget yesterday’s tip money in your pocket, that it won’t set the beeper off. Knowing that there’s nothing scarier than being examined by that hard-eyed security lady.

Relieved that you remembered to take it out this morning for this exact reason five minutes after you panic. 

That boring plane ride. Watching the sun rise. The top of St. Helens sticking out above the cotton candy cloud cover. Setting down in San Antonio. Hugs from the grandparents. The hour ride into Boerne, the roller coaster road. Chatting. Politics. Jobs. Business. 

Getting to the house. 

Warmth.

That good smell that comes with home.

Fruit. Good baking. That obscure ‘old people’ smell.

The old couch upstairs.

My bed.

More comfortable than any king sized monster you’ll give me.

Settling down around the tree downstairs. Poking around the branches, trying to find the ‘lucky’ pickle for the fourth year in a row. Hearing the door crack open, the hearty greeting of my uncle and aunt. My cousins, one just a year younger, one just a month older than me. Michael and Matthew. They’re the brothers I never had. Goofy and fun. You’d never know Matthew’s adopted. 

We set down for a late night snack. Fresh grapefruits. Sour and candied on the tongue, the juicy pink flesh with sugar on top. Candy meyer lemons that pickle our tongues, pucker with sweet. Sucking the sugar-like juice from each wedge, running down our chins. Picked yesterday from the Rockport house. 

Talking and laughing until early morning.

Eating more than we really need. 

Reluctantly hugging good night.

Laying awake, too excited to sleep.

Curling up in the dry air, warm sheets. 

Lungs filling with anticipation and excitement for whatever will come tomorrow.

For our warm Christmases.

With warm memories.

And warm.

Warm.

Crabby

I'm sorry to have to say it to your face, Lucy, but it's true. You're a very crabby person. I know your crabbiness has probably become so natural to you now that you're not even aware when you're being crabby, but it's true just the same. You're a very crabby person and you're crabby to just about everyone you meet. Now I hope you don't mind my saying this, Lucy, and I hope you're take it in the spirit that it's meant. I think we should be very open to any opportunity to learn more about ourselves. I think Socrates was very right when he said that one of the first rules for anyone in life is 'Know Thyself'. Well, I guess I've said about enough. I hope I haven't offended you or anything.(awkward exit)
~Schroeder, You're a Good Man Charlie Brown

Crabby.
Aren't we all sometimes? I mean, we're not all like Lucy from Peanuts, but we can be pretty nasty sometimes. We all have our 'Lucy' moments, and we all need that 'Schroeder' to kick our butts and put us back in line. Admit it.
I've had many people kick my butt, be it my youth pastor in a sermon, my friends being honest, or my parents trying to help me succeed. It's a shock at first. I'm saying, "I wasn't like that! I was being reasonable. I did NOT snap at you. I wasn't being stupid. Was I?"
But then I think back, and realize I was being a butthead. I can give whatever excuses I want (I was tired, I was working all day, I didn't sleep at all last night) but nothing can make up for what I said or did in my roll of emotions. There was something underlying, something mom said, something dad did, something my boss wanted me to do, that set me off. Or something someone said. Something my best friend did (or didn't) do. Someone rejecting you. Ignoring you. Not caring. Any of these things could lead to crabbiness.
So next time you're crabby, think about it. Try to be nice.
And remember, Schroeder was right when Socrates said that one of the first rules in life was 'Know Thyself'.

I love Peanuts :D


Blessings for tonight!

An English Assignment

*sighs* I have an awkward way of writing.

Dear friend,

This summer I read books. I read a lot of books, because I read too much, but I’m just going to tell you about two. I had to read them for school, but since I enjoyed the books so much I didn’t mind. Of course, these were the ones I picked and not ones that were opicked for me but, what the hey. I still enjoyed them.

The first book I read, I picked off a list. Of books. The school wanted me to read. It was entitled: Pygmalion. Written by: George Bernard Shaw. I know the title is weird, but we’ll get back to that later. It was actually a play. A really interesting one. In fact, the movie “My Fair Lady” starring Audrey Hepburn, was based off of this play! I’ve read the play before. It’s less than 80 pages long. Really really easy read. And a funny and enjoyable one. It’s about this man, Professor Henry Higgins who studies phonetics and the basic way people talk and say things, and how he takes a Cockney flower girl, Eliza Doolittle, under his wing to teach her to become a lady, to speak, dress, and act properly. He has a bet with his friend to see if he can pass off Eliza as a proper lady. Along the way, Eliza meets this boy named Freddie. Shaw ends the play in such a way that you are left guessing: Does Eliza go out on her own, does she marry Freddie, or marry Professor Higgins? It’s a long running debate that has changed with different movie adaptations, musicals, commentaries, and so on. It’s a fun and easy read though, with an interesting twist at the end. The title, “Pygmalion” is derived from an ancient Greek myth where King Pygmalion of Cyprus fashions a statue of a beautiful woman and fell in love with it—creepy, I know. But Aphrodite hears is prayers and pleas and comes and brings the statue, Galatea, to life. (Magical!!)

The second book I read is one I picked myself and happens to be an old favourite of mine: Leviathan, by Scott Westerfeld. The first in a trilogy, Leviathan is a steampunk novel set in the early 1900’s—World War II. But it’s not the same as it was. In fact, in this science based alternate time, the Allied forces, France, Britain and Russia, are called Darwinists. They’ve taken the life threads of various animals and mutated them together to make amazing ‘fabricated beasties’, and the Axis powers, the Ottoman Empire, Germany, and Austria Hungary, are Clankers. They base their economy off of machines, gears and pistons. Our main characters are from each side. Deryn Sharp longs to be in the Darwinist army, sailing miles above the ground in jellyfish-like ‘Huxleys’. But Deryn’s one problem—she’s a girl! So she disguises herself as Dylan Sharp, a boy, and ends up aboard the great whale-ship, Leviathan. Meanwhile, Aleksander Hohenberg’s parents have just been killed and he is left, heir to Austria-Hungary’s Clanker Empire, and hide his secret, because he is next in line to be killed. He is left with his fencing master and a few mechanics to get out of the country on nothing but a walker. As soon as he gets to his destination in Switzerland, though, he witnesses the crash of a fabricated beastie: the great ship Leviathan, and through a series of events, Alek and Deryn (Dylan?) meet, both with secrets that could drastically change everything. I personally adore this book. It’s well written, the art in it is fantastic, and it’s a well thought out book. The next two in the series, Behemoth and Goliath, are well done too, and though the way Westerfeld ends the whole series is unsatisfactory, they are still enjoyable reads. 

Fencing, and perseverance.

I would've never gotten into fencing if not for perseverance.
And my mother.
But mostly perseverance.

While looking for a sport after I quit dance, my mum won a week of fencing camp for me.
Well, why not?!
Of course, I fell in love. And so I just kept going through that week.

One week.
Five hours a day.
Five days a week.

So good.

And so I got signed up for the school year.

Two hours a day.
Two days a week.
Nine months.



On the first day, I almost turned myself around and walked straight out of there. I had changed my mind. I did not want to fence. I was doubting and really anxious.
But my mom turned me around, kicked my butt, and sent me right back in those front doors.

Of course, I was in a lot of pain (knees, that's later), but I relished the chance to fight, defend, attack.
So I kept going.

And then school happened, I got the lead in our school play Mrs. California.
(That's me, the blonde one in the middle. Mrs. Los Angeles, or Dot.)

Left to right: Abby (San Bernardino), Marnie (Mrs. Modesto), Noah (Dudley, Dot's Gas Company Sponsor), Me, (Mrs. LA, Dot), Katie (Babs, Dot's best friend) Janelle( Mrs. San Francisco (and my bestie)), Michael (Stage Manager)

And then finals. And so I missed from April on. I couldn't do any summer acting. That sucked. So pretty much, I've jumped back into classes after five months of un-practice. And it feels SO GOOD. (Apparently, finals brainwashed me of the wondrous feeling of stab- I mean, poking people.)

After huge problems with my knees (apparently the kneecaps were out of place), and one summer of physical therapy, electro stim therapy, an MRI, and lots of x-rays, I'm finally back in place. And totally ready to keep poking.

Have a great day evening.

Good-night!

Answers

Sorry I've been gone for so long, readers. Life happened, moreover, summer camps. Two in a row. So, sorry!


However, I got an answer to a problem that has long bothered me.
Sleep.
I don't think I've gotten a full night's sleep (unmedicated) in... about two years. I'm tired all the time, constantly running between 2 and 6 hours of sleep. I've tried all the medicines, melatonin and the such, but I always woke up even more tired than I was before I went to sleep.
It finally came to a point where I was just tired of being tired. I told my mom I was sick of this, so would she please contact a sleep specialist? And so she did.
That was at the very beginning of the summer, around June or July, and the closest opening at our local hospital was August 22nd. Yesterday.
So we went in early early in the morning, and after what felt like an interrogation session, the doctor examined my nose and throat. It was weird. I mean, what does your nose and throat have to do with sleep?!
I figured it out later, but we'll get to that in time.
The doctor sat back and said I'd need a sleep study, where I'd stay overnight at the hospital and they would monitor my sleep. She diagnosed me with insomnia, and possible sleep apnea. Sleep apnea is where the throat closes up while you sleep, preventing the sleeper from breathing. The reason I was diagnosed with this is because my throat and nose airways are swollen and closed up, which could mean sleep apnea. She gave me a prescription, not a sleep medication, but a nasal spray which would help clear my nose.

In retrospect, the whole sleep apnea thing makes sense. My nose has been constantly stuffed for awhile, and sometimes it's hard to breathe, or it feels like I'm breathing through a screen.
I told this to my mom, and she said it made sense to her too.


Anywhoo, I'm glad I have answers, and I'm glad I'm back. I'll get back on that 30 day challenge as soon as possible.

Blessings :)
~Dani