I haven’t posted anything in a few months now.  Other than the unfortunate updates regarding the passing of loved ones, I’ve been avoiding posting anything of consequence on this thing.  I don’t really know why, most likely because I didn’t have anything I wanted to discuss publicly.

However, I think times are changing.  In five days time I’ll be moving to Ohio for the summer. I’ll be earning a meager sum building props for the Ohio Light Opera and studying for the Quant. GRE and overall GMAT.After that I move to Philly to work as the Shop Manager Assistant for the Walnut Street Theatre.

I think now, more than ever, will depend on this thing to keep me focused and sane. It’s troubling to realize that the only person you can really depend on is yourself. I find that the awareness of self-confidence is much like conscious appreciation: it comes and goes. Some days you are fully grateful for all that you were given in this life and other days you take most everything for granted because some guy cut you off and you got your head chewed off at work.

Silly Kristen. Attempting to depend on other people when you have been taught full well in your short time here that substitutions will always need to be made. Hopefully, I’ll condition myself to reporting back here on a weekly basis to keep tabs on myself. I need to maintain rational focus and academic progress over this next year. Unfortunately, self-motivation is always, always amplified when you have someone’s else’s voice supporting your efforts too.  Oh well, I’ll have to make due.

In 2009 I wish things would have changed.

My mother’s co-worker, Sandy, stepfather died the second week of January.

My grandmother died February 6th.

Heather William’s father was stabbed to death February 15th

Steven Parish died March 22nd.

Aunt Nancy Weems died April 22nd.

I have never seen my time working abroad ever work against me until now. “I see you worked in Dublin …” then, “I see that you worked in NYC… how exotic…”

Just give me the goddamn job.

Every aching wound

Will cauterize and bruise

In memory of what we used to call “in love”

Only time will tell

If violins will swell

In memory of what we used to call “in love”

People keep dying. Sandy’s father (my mother’s boss’s step-dad [natural causes]), my grandmother (natural causes),  Heather William’s father (stabbed to death).

What do you want to do before you die?

I should be updating this thing far more often than I do. I should use this godforsaken, trend-driven, overly public method of purging thoughts, happenings, and emotions to lighten myself. I do enjoy writing/journaling, I do. It’s just that I’m in front of a computer and, at this moment, I can’t think with my hands per usual. Right now, it’s all in my head so here we go. My grandmother is dying. My mother’s mother. My friends are “just getting by”. Jobs are becoming even more scarce and are projected to worsen over the next 18 months. Life is becoming a darker gray on the charcoal gray-scale of my art-school days. I can find the yellow ribbon and candle in the window to give me hope and get me home, but I worry about every one else.

One Sunday morning I was sitting next to my mother just before mass began. I was looking out the window on my right, thinking about graduating from high school and all that lay in front of me.   So I turned to my mother and asked:

“Mom, is everything I want in life possible?”

She turned to me and said “No.” Then mass began.

just how it is. my girl and i were talking about this earlier today, about how we are way too inclined toward wearing out hearts all over our bodies.

…i have so many places to call home, and so many to visit before i can go home…

there’s not much going on over here. that’s why i’m not writing as much. i mean there is activity, to be sure. but in regards to things i deem to be monumental, wordpress-worthy-material, or something i don’t want to forget – those moments are fewer and futher between.

but fear not, things are beginning to stir… ever so slowly.

God, back from NYC and back from Ohio. All over the place and now in Michigan. I don’t think I’ll stay here for long though. I’m giving myself two weeks of being home and then shipping out – somewhere. The only reason why I would stay in Michigan would be if I found a good interim job … and that very well may be the case.

I have a lot of auxiliary plans that may be enacted… move back to Cleveland, crash with various friends around the country, just pack up and move to OR and live out there. Or even, move back to NYC. All of these options are well within the realm of possibility.

just keep swimming, just keep swimming.

Actually. Sweet Jesus. Someone save me. Just tell me what to do, where to go, and I’ll do it. I coasted trough high school, ambled through college, and led an eccentric life of pursuing multiple, disparate interests all throughout, leaving me with little direction and an even larger appetite to live and to learn.

My father once cautioned me:

“Kristen, whatever you do, just don’t be a cog in the wheel.” But he never really told me how to go about achieving that. So far I have:

1) Don’t be cog in wheel … Check!

2) Nap ?

Tell me how to beat the catch-22s and I’ll bring you back a trophy. Just tell me what to do.

It was like Christmas when that little Asian girl laughed on the train today.

She bounced onto the train holding her daddy’s hand and was led, bouncing, toward a spot to stand, right in front of me. I didn’t notice her at first. I was too distracted by my iPod, but then I looked up and saw her giggling… just giggling for her own secret reason.

Her dad found her a seat and she bounce over there too, singing to some string of Disney songs while pointing at things out the window and asking “Daddy, what does THAT mean?” at an ad. Bounce, bounce, bounce in pig tails and Disney songs.

I saw this woman, maybe 26, sitting across from me looking around with searching eyes, then glancing back to the girl – with her own secret smile growing now. She was trying to find a compatriot in adoring this girl.
I paused my iPod now, and watched the child … “Part of this world …” The woman didn’t have to try very hard. And as I watched the child, I laughed out loud, then the woman laughed, and then lady two down from us, and then man standing above me. Everyone’s eyes softened a little and no longer did their faces read “Back the Fuck Off”.  The little child’s secret was contagious.

It was like that Christmas the year when Uncle Paul died, mom? Your brother? He died a month before Christmas, the year I was born?
I remember you telling me once – the story of that Christmas following his death. You said that the tone was somber – all the adults trying not to think about Paul. All, reaching for each other’s hands – thinking about how Christmas is the time for family “… and he isn’t here”. “He shouldn’t have died,” you heard yourself cry. “It isn’t fair,” others said avoiding tears by staring at twinkling lights.
“But the children,” you whispered while telling the story, “the children” you said again, but louder now and with a laugh.
“You were crawling around, drooling. Becky was watching with a doll in hand and Mike and Dave were trying to figure out this new WWII plane model … You didn’t know about Paul, and it didn’t matter. You kids were just happy to have your toys, just happy to be in the moment. And then we saw you all together, and we were in the moment too. You guys made it all bearable and didn’t even know it.”

This little girl was like Christmas.

I haven’t written here for a long while.
Shouldn’t surprise anyone who reads this casually – my previous entries reflect how unhappy I’ve been.

But this morning I went for a run – my first in three weeks.
Everyday I would wake up, my eyes aching
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see past yesterday, couldn’t run.

And then the Peace Corps said, “No. We don’t need you as you are right now. Come back when you’ve had more language experience.”
I’d like to lyrically declare, “And then I ran,” but that wouldn’t be right.

Truth? I got wasted immediately after work.
I was in bed by 9:30 PM – shitfaced, and woke up at 2:30 AM still drunk.

I’ll be back in Michigan by Oct 16th… ready for a new adventure.