Drowning

My best friend died Monday. She was 31. I'm drowning in it. I'm not OK. I don't give a fuck whose plan it was. I don't care about finding the good in the damn grief. I don't know who I am without her. I don't understand the world without her. I feel nothing but heaviness. Weight. Confusion. My head is fuzzy, my heart is beyond broken. It is simply unbelievable that I can't pick up the phone and hear her voice on the other end. Unconditional love is a rare thing. For twenty years, since we were idiot kids, we've been friends. She's been a part of my every damn day. What the fuck? What the fuck do I do? Say? I don't know what the fuck to DO. I don't want to do anything. Her husband and I are walking around like zombies while everyone around us scrambles to make decisions about STUPID CRAP. I don't care what fucking container her damn ashes are in. I don't give a fuck. She doesn't give a fucking fuck. Clearly, I'm melting down. I don't even know that this is the place to talk about it, but I don't know when (if) I'll be able to blog here again. She read my blog. In London, in Ireland, wherever the fuck she lived. You don't care, I know, I just can't seem to stop babbling, even in my own head. I'm angry. Today, yesterday, probably for a while. I'm fucking angry. 

A New Way of Thinking

Today I took an hour. And you know what? I didn't feel like I stole it. Like I was robbing Peter (work, school, family, etc) to pay Paul (myself). I wasn't anxious or freaked out like I usually am when I "take" time for myself. I went to Barnes & Noble and looked at some web design books, got a frap and a cookie, then went to the library and journaled.

There is a LOT going on in my life (as I've told you several times lately), but there is even more than I've shared here, more than I'm comfortable talking about...sort of. The thing is, I'm not used to an abundance of "good" stuff. I don't get a lot of "lucky" stuff in my life, which is totally fine. My life is steady. I'm not wealthy, but I'm certainly not poor. We're in the middle. I've always kind of been in the middle. Not in a wishy-washy, afraid to stand out, don't know how to make a statement way, just in the life is unremarkable to anyone but me kind of way. I tend to mistrust. Mostly myself, if I'm being honest. Oh, not for things like being on time or getting a job done. But when there's NOT a right or wrong answer. Making a quilt for my sister in law, after the first block I got paranoid and texted her to see if she would like it. Surprise? Blown. Sanity? Saved. I am a creative person, but I don't necessarily enjoy sharing that with others because others judge. 2+2 always = 4, but "pretty" is in the eye of the beholder. Graphic design is not as much about "principles" and the "rule of thirds" anymore. It's about whether or not things are appealing to the eye. Do they grab your attention? Will they bring in enough business? I am SUPER insecure about these things, especially because I find so many commercials and slogans and crap like that off-putting and nonsensical. If that's what appeals to the majority of people or to test audiences or whatever, I feel doomed to failure. But lately I've been NOT failing. Good things are happening. According to a good friend, the universe is filling a void left behind by something else.

I feel like I should be scared and insecure. That's my normal pattern. But the same friend said "Why not change your pattern of thinking?" That I was allowed to freak out and embrace the fear if I wanted to, of course, because that's my choice. But that maybe I didn't need it. Maybe the gut-wrenching panic whenever someone suggests that I might be not awful at something is worth considering. Maybe it's time to let go of the panic.

Now, I'm still panicking a little bit, of course. But nowhere near what would be a normal level for me. This morning I was thinking of the line from Armageddon...98% excited 2% scared...or it could be 2% excited, 98% scared. I should be 98% scared, but I'm not. Maybe good shit is supposed to happen. We'll see, I guess. I mean good shit has to happen to somebody, why not me?

Close up of the girl:

The brown smudge is chocolate - I dropped part of my cookie :) 

School Doodles...

Transferred to CTJ, of course...

Not the first...or the last

"We didn't want to be the first ones in." A little tiny old lady told me at the restaurant the other day. We open at eleven am and she and her husband had been sitting in their car for fifteen minutes before I even unlocked the doors.

I pondered this. My husband is the same way. Can't be the first one to an event or a party, can't eat the last cookie when we're at a friend's. I am not that kind of person at all. Not even a little bit. I don't care what the workers at Michaels think of me if I'm sitting in my car outside the doors for a few minutes before they open. And no one wants to put away one freaking cookie.

My son has somehow gotten it into his little head that he doesn't want to eat or use the last of something. I'll ask if he's eaten breakfast and he'll say "I was going to have poptarts but there's only one pack left. Can we buy some more?" Nope, not until that last pack is gone. Then we'll buy some more. When Hostess was going out of business, do you think I savored my last box of Zingers? Sure didn't. Ate them just like I always do.

Yesterday we took Liam to the Mall of America to play at Nickelodeon Universe. My mom wanted to know if it was a special occasion. No, Mom. It was just Tuesday. Why NOT go to the MOA? Why wait for a special occasion? Why wait for someone else to be in the store? Why not eat the cookie if you want it? When someone tells me I only live once and they're talking about how they stayed out all night drinking and came to work the next morning hungover, I tell them they're a dumbass. Yes, you DO only live once. So why not make the most of it? Why not do the right things since you don't get a second chance? Why not go somewhere silly and expensive on a random Tuesday?

Work doodles...

Don't tell!! I actually liked her a lot except she's SUPER crooked and I don't like the broken neck look. I wish she was in my journal and NOT the reservation book at work.

Crossing Over

To the Dark Side. C'mon, come with me! I've been struggling with an "all or nothing" kind of thing with my journaling and I'm tired of it. I say that I want everything in one journal, but it's really not true. But then I get all confused and screwy about where I DO want things. That face down there - that was a crooked, ugly doodle I did in the dark at school one night.

This is the bottom half of her paper on a journal page I didn't have time to do, but I needed to squeeze out the time to do it and so I did.

And here is the journal spread at school, where I took my sharpies and colored in the letters.

Seen this quote before? Sure, in my OTHER journal. The cheap thoughts journal that I write lists and notes and scribble shit in. WHY can't it be in both? Why? Why do I have to decide where it goes? People are WRONG in their silly "a place for everything" nonsense. I like to have pencils EVERYWHERE. There are pencils in every room of my house, including the bathroom and the kitchen. You never know when you're going to need to write something down. I like pencils. Of course, if they were in a drawer somewhere, I'd know where they were every time I wanted one, and I get the value in that when we're talking about car keys. But art? It can be whatever I want it to be. My journals are for me, and I don't LIKE carrying the fine art one to school, but I need something to draw on/with/near at school. So here is my solution: let them cross over. I'm going to doodle that freaking quote everywhere I wanna and if that means it ends up in both journals seventeen times, then it does. Try and stop me!

Today

Effy Wild said this the other day, and it really struck me. What if we could forgive OURSELVES everything that came before right now? I hate when people yap about being present and "in the moment" and blah, blah, blah, because that's just life. Of course I'm in this moment - that's why I have no idea where my husband's car keys are, because I shoved them in my pocket and then changed my clothes in a DIFFERENT moment. If I was still there, I'd remember the keys. My son is also an "in the moment" kind of person. He can't tell me what he does at school until HOURS after he's been home. He doesn't remember, he's too focused on what he wants to do next (have a snack, play xbox, call grandma, pet the cat).

BUT. I'm a dweller. I dwell. Not so much on anything you did or said or might have meant by something you did or said. Some of that, of course, but not nearly as much as dwelling on what I did or said or what you might think I meant by something. But what if, instead, I could tell MYSELF that the only day that matters is today? That if I offended you or confused you or myself or my kid or hurt someone's feelings yesterday - that today I either have to fix it or let it go. Because today is the only day that matters.

Craziness...

I was going to be a better blogger this week, but obviously that didn't happen!! Oops. Honestly, there just hasn't been a lot of art in my life for the past couple of weeks. Time had been a scarce commodity for me since I started my internship on 2/15.

Part of me feels like I've lost my mind - I'm working my internship in between when Liam gets on the bus (7:07am) and I start work (10:45am). My "hours" are 7:30-10, then work from 10:45-4, then Liam gets home at 4:03 (ish), and I have class from 6-10:30. Some days I have NTHS from 5-6p, and every other week I meet with my AITP mentor. When I started forgetting things like brushing my teeth and putting on deodorant, I decided I needed to figure out a new routine so I've been setting my alarm for 5:30 and drinking a LOT more coffee and Dr. Pepper to get through the days.

Another part of me feels awake for the first time in YEARS. When I was pregnant with Liam, both of my closest friends moved out of town. My family support was minimal, my husband turned into a dick after he was born, and my car was totaled when he was five months old. I worked days and my husband worked nights, so I was either at work or at home, alone, with a baby. I often grocery shopped in the middle of the night, because even though my mother lived next door and went to Publix every day, it never occurred to her, not ONCE, to ask if I needed anything or if I wanted to go with her. I didn't just feel isolated, I WAS isolated. I slid into Zombie Mode and no one even cared. I barely felt functional, but as long as you don't whine and complain, no one gives a crap about how you look, how you've changed, what is going on with you. They just don't.

Working again, once Liam was old enough to start school, changed me. I don't hate people, in general, the way I thought I did. People are fine. Clueless and mostly idiotic, but basically harmless and occasionally funny and kind. But still, working just made me more tired. Standing all day makes my feet hurt, a lot of days I had to go to school still in my uncomfortable work uniform, and it wasn't fun. Better than sitting at home doing nothing, but just another thing on my to-do list.

And now I have my internship. Doing graphics work. You know what that feels like to me? Helping someone. I have zero desire to help people in the way doctors or nurses or den mothers do. I don't want to be responsible for anyone's personal crap - their happiness, their well-being, their self-esteem. But when my boss watched me do something yesterday and burst out laughing - happy, "I'm really glad you knew how to do that" laughter - it was awesome. When he says "this is what I need" and I can make it happen, that's a happy thing and it makes me feel alive again.

Less sleep is bad, but doing work that I really enjoy, helping someone in my own way, I can't even tell you what a difference it's made in my life over the past three weeks. Only three weeks and I feel like a new person. Someone who has value.

Rushing from home to work to pick up Liam to school, I don't enjoy that. Feeling like a human being again, I enjoy that. A lot.

Venus bitch trap!

Ajar named it and I totally forget why!!

Caff'd to the max!!

IT'S FINALS WEEK! AHHHHHH!

I know, I don't usually get stressed about these kinds of things, because, really, who cares? But since I have SO LITTLE TIME these days, all my projects are not quite finished. Dang it!

We're All Mad!

Oops, missed a couple of days again! I'm going to be a slacker blogger for the next couple of months, probably. Sorry about that!

So, the new kit by Sweet Digi Scraps. Aren't the colors awesome? She always comes up with the BEST color combinations.

This is me and Liam being idiots at The Cheesecake Factory. I don't even remember why!