A Poster Promoting AIDS Awareness in Europe

Seriously.




I love it.

Found at: http://www.yukoart.com/news/aids.html

Weekends are the universe's gift of relaxation.

Yesterday was pretty nice. I woke up at the frat house curled up next to Isaac, who had to leave early, which was sad. I enjoy waking up next to him, even if we are on just platonic terms. (Okay, semi-platonic.) I fell back asleep after he left, but eventually woke up again to have lunch with Dad. He seemed a little less stressed then the past couple of times I've talked to him. I know things are bad when Dad gets stressed and worried. He hides it pretty well, but after 20 years I've learned how to see signs when he is stressed. I hate seeing him like that, and I hate knowing that I am the cause of a lot of his financial distress.

Afterward I saw my therapist. It was an okay session, I ended up having to bring Khaliyah because Moto was trying to get into her cage and it freaked me out. Fortunately having a snake around didn't freak the therapist out (I wish I could say the same about the women at the bridal shop I visited later). He said the snake seemed to relax me. She does, I actually never realized how relaxing having a snake was until I bought one. The therapist said I needed to take time to take care of myself. And a possiblity of having a perscription of a few barbituates.

I stopped by David's Bridal to pick up my usher's dress. It looks spiffy. Darlene's wedding is less then a week away. I need to dye my hair blue for it. I can't wait to see her get married, shes so excited.

I went to see As You Like It at the university. It was pretty good, a couple of my friends are in it, and it was good to watch them perform. I had to leave a little early to go meet Patty, so I didn't get to see them after the show. I'm going to stop by the theatre tonight when the show ends to congratulate them, and ask Jess if she could help me move.

That night I also saw Patty. He was in town only for three days for a brief fall break. He's back in Oregon now, but it was good to see him. He's actually been having a bit of a tough time, he had a falling out with one of his closest friends, and it has devastated him. We watched Dark City for a bit, and cuddled while catching up. I haven't seen him since July and I've missed him terribly because of it. It was good to be with him.

After he left the whole household gathered around to watch the new Supernatural. It was hilarious.

Today was a nice lazy day. I slept in, woke up, curled in bed next to Darren to bullshit about random things. I bought some groceries, made an awesome spinach and pesto ravioli thingy, read, slept, made dinner (almost started a fire making grilled cheese). I needed a nice, quiet day, though I found myself missing Isaac a few times, and then Sony. I guess I'm lonely, and seeing Patty made me realize how long its been since I've seen some of my closest friends.

Finally, Breathe

Its been a rough week.
I have had an anxiety attack every day this week (most small, one which wasn't).

I have found myself quite attracted to a friend of mine who is, alas, taken. At first I thought I was just horny, and then on a rebound from Jason (if sort kinda but not really dating him qualifies for a rebound). But today I realized I actually like this guy. He makes me laugh. I feel comfortable and safe around him. He reads good books. He's cuddly.
I hope I don't destroy something beautiful.

Panic Attack

I had a panic attack in chem lab today. Well, actually, I was fortunate enough to have it before we started the actual lab, so the teacher (sweetheart that she is), told me I could make it up at the Thursday morning lab.

Panic attacks suck. It feels like a constantly impending heart attack.

On the front of love, I seem to find myself rather attracted to a friend, Isaac. I've known him for the better part of a year and he always makes me laugh. Sadly though, he is in a new relationship, and thus off limits. *Sigh*

I need a dom.

I'll write more later, I need to go study. Friggin' midterms.

This Weekend

I've been sick since Thursday. I'm all dizzy and dazed and phlegmy. Used tissues have taken over my bedroom and the living room. I will make it to most of my classes tomorrow, though Japanese is debatable. I need to talk to sensei about class. Good thing I'm auditing.

I totally bought a book today I couldn't really afford, but I've never apologized for buying a book, I come from a family of bibliophiles. It is The Painted Veil, by William Somerset Maugham, a personal favorite of mine. So far it is good, well-versed in his beautiful subtlety that he is famous for. My dad got me started on Somerset Maugham years ago when I was a high school junior, and he's been one of my favorite authors since. The Razor's Edge was one of the most elegant pieces of literature I've ever experienced. I've been too sick to really focus on my math (I tried, and failed), so I decided to spend my time at least reading instead of wasting it on TV or more sleep or endless mindless hours on the Internet.

I am an usher for my friend's wedding, and since I have nothing nice or "usherish" to wear, she took me to a bridal shot to find a cheap nice dress. It was rather hard, my breasts don't like to fit, and when they do, the dress is too big in the waist and the straps are too loose. We finally did find a nice little black number, and a few alterations in the straps and hem will make it fit better. It is all black, and since the ushers (me and her son), as well as the bridesmaids and groomsmen are all wearing black and navy, she told me I could dye my hair blue to match ^_^
Yes, Darlene is awesome like that.

Spending two hours in a bridal shop has cemented my conviction that should I ever stoop into insanity and embark on the journey of matrimony, I shall do so with the time-honored tradition of eloping.

I hung out with Jason tonight. It was a little less awkward this time, which was nice. Maybe next time I'll stay over. He is a great person to cuddle with.

Sick

I'm sick again.
Anxiety weakens one's immune system, so sickness is common, according to the doctor.
But studying may help distract me.

Three more days.

I'm in a slightly better mood tonight, especially considering how bad I was today. Dad unwillingly helped trigger an anxiety attack.
"Why haven't you gotten your snow tires yet?
Why did you drop that class a month ago? Did you really have to drop that class?
This new apartment is really expensive. Its coming out of your college, you know."

Yes Dad, I know. Thank you. Excuse my as I have an anxiety attack now.
He apologized later.
But still.
It would be nice if I could have an interaction with either parent without them triggering anxiety.

I called my mom tonight apologizing for being so frustrated over the weekend. I know she understands, but I'm sure its not any easier for her.

Charles brightened my mood by telling my about the 88 shrine pilgrimage in Shikoku, and then showing my silly posts on a threat titled: "(MSPaint) Things your father does that are beyond your comprehension. "
Its pretty funny.
I want to do that pilgrimage now.

Three more days until my first therapist's appointment. Three more days.
It feels good for things to more forward.

To bed. I bought some new books by Thich Nhat Hanh, and I hope to dive into them before going to sleep. Oooo, in my new comfy cat-piss free papasan cushion. Huzzah.

Monday

I survived my weekend at Mom's trying to study. An anxiety attack was looming the entire time, and I nearly lost it a couple of times, but made it through.
I made most my classes, had about four incidences where my anxiety was really bad, but I beat it.
I bought a new cushion for my papasan chair. The cats decided to use mine as a litterbox, so I treated myself to a pretty new sage-colored one. I put it in my chair as soon as I got home and spent 15 minutes reveling in it's comfiness. Yay for simple pleasures.

I ran into Lena today at the store, and asked her if Riley (her boyfriend), would mind her having a girlfriend (me). She laughed and said she'd let me know.

Darren, Charles, and I gathered aroung the tiny laptop tonight to watch the latest episode of Supernatural. Gods, I love that show! It gets better and better everytime I see it.

I spent some time tonight at Darlene's studying for my chem lab final tomorrow. Wish me luck.

I take second place to cookware.

I asked my mom earlier to go look for books about handling people/family members who suffer from anxiety.
"Tell ya what, why don't you find some books and I'll buy them," she tells me.
Not even five minutes later, she is on Amazon.com, a site which was originally made famous by selling books, looking at cookware.
I didn't realize I take second place to cookware.
She never did look for books.
I am dealing with the worst anxiety in my life, so intense that I almost vomit every morning upon awakening, that my body won't even mensturate, that I have to inflict pain in order to stop an attack, and I've developed a mild case of agoraphobia of certain places...and she looks at cookware.
What the hell?
When I was diagnosed with ADD as a child, she bought no fewer then a dozen books on the subject. Now she can't even spend 15 minutes looking for one? I find this disgustingly ironic, seeing as how she has a tendancy to trigger anxiety attacks.

An odd development

Every time I wake up now, no matter what time of the day or night, I am immediately hit (and I mean immediately, before any thought has a chance to enter my mind) by an overwhelming sense of physical nervousness. My stomach is tied up in knots, I nearly vomit, my hands shake, I feel my blood plusing (oddly enough though, everytime I take my pulse, my heart rate is normal).
It makes it hard to get out of bed.

Apartment Hunting

My parents, particularly my father, in reaction to my severe and worsening anxiety, have decided to help me get out of my current living situation by helping me attain my own apartment. Perhaps one I can share with a room mate, but a room mate of my choosing, an apartment that will be, unarguably, mine.
My own space.
Not some cramped little bedroom where I can barely cramp my life's possessions, but a place all my own. A place where I can come home and study, read, meditate, pray, and dance naked in the kitchen at odd hours of the night. No loud room mates talking loudly in the middle of the night, no having to deal with Drew's negativity every Saturday, who makes me feel unwelcome in my own home. It doesn't even feel like home to me, it feels like a place I've been crashing at for a year. I can't paint without getting yelled at, I have no room in my room for Khaliyah, so her tank remains in Z's bedroom, to his disparagement. No more Charles and his loud voice, occasional lack of personal space, and constant lack of pants. No more T.V.
It feels like hope.
I got a call today saying I was approved for a nice one bedroom apartment, in a very secure building, full of quiet people, and an on the site manager. A little like living in the dorms, but without the drama, and the room mates. I had a less-then-pleasant experience in the dorms, having to deal with a homophobic Texas bitch who lived off of drama. That wasn't fun. Texans are funny, either I get along very well with them, or we clash. I think it has something about being an Alaskan. We're bigger then them, and they can't handle it ^_^
My anxiety has gotten worse to the point of mild agoraphobia. What is worng with me?
Every breath is a struggle.
Every moment is a battle not to lose it.
One more week. I have to last one more week, that is when my first appointment with the therapist is.
One more week.

sigh...

I feel like a complete failure.

The Worse Week

This week has been the worse since my anxiety attack I faced in September.
A combination of anxiety, high levels of fatigue, frustrations of living in a cramped apartment with three other people, school, the kinda sorta break-up earlier this week, it finally climaxed in a very rare episode of depression.
I've honestly never had much trouble with depression. I've had a few down moments here and there, but honestly nothing a good evening to myself (or with good friends)couldn't solve. Anxiety has always been my burden.
To have depression this extreme is new to me. Monday was the worse, today finally brought a little relief. I even smiled once or twice. It was nice. Yesterday I had lunch with Dad, and he convinced me to go apartment hunting. He and Mom decided to get me my own apartment, or help me find a place where I have a little more space instead of cramming myself and all my possessions (sans car, of course), into a tiny 10' by 10'ish room. We found a good deal on a 2 bedroom, hopefully it will work out.
Please work out. I'm going insane here. One of my room mates has no concept of personal space. I suppose I can be a little misleading; after all, I am very comfortable with the other two. We hug, tickle, annoy, and tease each other constantly, and he doesn't get that I am not that familiar with him, so therefore there are limits. He's learning. I need to get out of here.

My poor parents. All they can do is stand by and watch helplessly as their daughter flirts with insanity. (Well, not actual insanity, but during an anxiety attack, I feel like I'm pretty damn close). They've been great.
Physical pain helps me focus too. My anxiety was very high today, I had to concentrate on each breath or else I started to lose it.I ended up digging my fingernails into my skin so I could concentrait on the lectures.

Uncertainty

Today has not been a good day. My anxiety has developed into full-fledged depression, and making it through today's classes has been a struggle. I didn't make it to math, which will only add to more anxiety, which will lead to further depression....and so it goes.

Last night with him was like a break-up in many ways. What we had was exactly what I wanted, something friendly and casual, with an opportunity to slowly grow into something more over time. I wanted to call it dating, to give it a name, so that I would know we were mutually in the same place, instead of just assuming we were.
I needed it to have a name, there was a small shred of uncertainty when it was unnamed, an uncertainty I was uncomfortable with, and wanted to fix. I had no idea it would lead to the mess it caused last night. I didn't realize that while I was busy falling for him, he had already labeled me as "just a friend." A friend he cared for, but just a friend none the less. That's what hurt the most, I think, because to me he is someone special and I thought I was someone special to him too. After all, he initiated the first kiss, he risked his career by being with me, he said he cared for me, so naturally I thought we had something worth pursuing. I just wanted to have whatever we were pursuing to have a name. I quit my job so his career would no longer be at risk, and so I could focus on school. But it turns out I am just a friend.
I never thought that by trying to name it, we would end up where we did last night. I wasn't trying to push him into anything serious, I just wanted to be certain of where I stood with you. I just didn't realized that I am just a friend to you. I don't want to share the fate of Tara and other women he cared about, but never dated. I like him too much.
He's kind, funny, smart. He is sarcastic, selfish yet unselfish at the same time. He makes me laugh. He has issues he needs to work through. He has great taste in music, movies, and books. He's great in bed. Not only does he want kids, he can financially and emotionally support them. I realized a while ago that's why I never really considered having children, because I never dated anyone who I could visualize as being financially/mentally/emotionally ready to support kids. But he is, and because of that, I can see having kids.
He says he needs time, time to get through his issues, to figure out what he wants in life. I just want to be there for him, to make him happy, to help him in any way that I can. I like being around him, I like the way he makes me feel. I like him, for all his fucked-upness.
And now what's said is said and done is done. I feel like I'm going to lose him, and that sense of loss is unbearable and frustrating.

Losing Him.

I went over to his apartment tonight, just planning on hanging out, and we did, we had wonderful sex, but sometime afterwards stupid little me had to push the subject of dating. It kinda blew up in my face. While I've been letting myself fall for him without reservation, he had already categorized me under the file name of "Friends I Love."
I want to be more then a friend to him. I want to be someone he can vent to, to lean on, to fall in love with, to grow with. I want someone who can be that for me, and I totally fell for him, hard. And I mean hard. He's absolutely amazing. He's geeky, funny, intelligent, wonderful.
I cried for an hour or so and then came home. Of course, when I become upset, I can't speak, so I had a hard time telling him how I feel, all I could say is that I wish he would give dating me a chance. He finally explained that he's got some issues to work through and needed time ( a few months) to deal with them. I'm in no rush. I care very deeply for him, and want to help him in any way I can get through his issues (though I doubt there is really much I can do). He said he wanted to avoid sex for the time being, which is fine by me in that I can understand, and for him sex complicates things. A small part of me feels like he's trying to push me away, even though I know thats not what he intended when he said that. It was a just a knee-jerk reaction in my head, maybe because now I do feel like I'm losing him, and I don't want to.
All I can do is give him time and space, and be there for him.
To bed now. School is going to royally suck tomorrow.
We never officially dated, but it feels like we're breaking up.
I can't stop crying.

Giving up.

i am frustraited.
i am tired.
i want to scream.
i want to cry.
i want to sleep.
i want to give up.

Arg.

Today sucked.
In a really major way.
My alarm clock didn't go off, so I slept in and missed an oral test in Japanese, and my poor partner had to do it without me. The teacher said I could do it Monday after class, so I'm lucky, but I still feel bad, and suffered a small anxiety attack as well.
I've misplaced my driver's license, which means I couldn't cash my rent check, which means I had to drive out to the valley tonight to give me mom back the check and have her withdraw rent in cash so I can pay my part of the rent.
I saw my little sister today for the first time in months, today with Dad at Taco Bell. It was good to see her, I guess. She's been getting involved with theatre. We aren't exactly close, mostly because I only saw on weekends growing up, and because her mother would often get drunk an verbally abuse me. Awkward.
I didn't manage to get to a computer until 5:30 to post an assignement that was due at 5. Fuck.
I'm tired. I'm stuck in an odd paradox: My anxiety makes me tired, and any drug I would take to fend off fatigue increase my risk of anxiety, which in turn makes me tired.... you see the endless spiral this turns into?
I am so fucking frustraited by this day. I want to cry.

Of Politics, Chemistry, and Submission.

Today was, for the most part a good day. I accomplished a lot more then I planned.
I woke up to awesome morning sex.
I had Bears Tooth for breakfast/lunch.
I worked with Magellan to find a therapist that my insurance covers.
My one class, chemistry, didn't completely suck, and now the chemistry department *finally* has tutors available for students.
I watched a very good vice-presidential debate on campus with fellow students and free pizza. It was great. If you haven't seen it yet, then download it, now.
I managed to get some studying done for Japanese tomorrow.



Taking a break from studying, I continued reading Kushiel's Chosen, the second book of the Kushiel series. It is beautifully written, and already I like it better then the first. The books are about the life of Phedre, a naturally submissive woman, a masochistic courtesan who saves her country. I am quite fond of the book and its characters, my favorite quote ("That which yields is not always weak") comes from this saga. It takes me to a world where no one thinks any differently or less of her because of her natural submissiveness, and the book points out several occasions that just because she is submissive, she is by no means shy or incapable of being courageous, brave, or aggressive. It breaks stereotypes and misconceptions about submissive people, and on top of that, a really good read.
There is a scene in the Kushiel's Chosen where she re-enters the service of being a courtesan, and takes her first patron in two years. The scene was eloquently detailed enough to paint the atmosphere, and left just enough out for my vivid imagination to fill in the blanks. What I like most is that the author doesn't really describe the actual sex or foreplay; instead she focuses on Phedre's feelings about being able to kneel before someone for the first time in two years, the joy of begging, the whip falling across her back, the delightful pain dancing across her skin, about how natural it all felt. "It was like a homecoming," she comments.

I tried to get back to studying after that, and failed miserably. All I could think about was being ordered to kneel, being thrown onto a bed, forced down and flogged, screaming with each lash....it makes it pretty hard to concentrate on Japanese.
Submission is, in its own way, an addiction, a driving need I've felt since I was a little girl, and I am in need of a fix. I've gotten a lot of criticism from certain people about my submissive tenancies, especially from one person in particular, and for the longest time I was very ashamed about it (I eventually got over myself and learned to embrace. It's more fun that way anyways). So it's really nice to read something in which natural submission is written about so casually, and in such a beautiful and eloquent novel as well.

High on Hair Dye Fumes

I want to go to sleep. I've been having a hard time getting enough sleep lately, I don't even remember the last time I had a full 8 hours.
About 30 more minutes, and then I'll be able to crash. Right now I'm in the middle of dying my hair. I'm not sure how it will turn out, I think they changed their formula, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll have to make an appointment at the hair-dresser's tomorrow (I hope not). I hope to eventually do bright orange, but I have to wait until I'm official done with work (two more shifts!) before that is possible.
Why am I rambling on about my hair?

I read a beautiful piece today in the paper by Garrison Keillor, one of my favorite authors.

Enjoy:


I was in Santa Monica for a day last week, sampling baked figs at the farmers’ market on the Third Street promenade, a sweet sunny day that makes an old Midwesterner like me a little nervous. We fear seduction. Some days in California are so tender and delicious that a person could abandon all commitments and wind up living in blissful stupor in some cult devoted to the worship of the sky.

I have work to do. I haul it around in a black case the size of an anvil and when an hour or two opens up, in an airport or hotel, I dig in. I don’t lie on beaches, looking up at the sky. It’s blue in Santa Monica. You don’t have to look at it for long to figure that out.

My hotel was on the beach, so I headed back that way, crossing the Pacific Coast Highway on a pedestrian bridge. And there, 50 yards south of me, police cars and flashing blue lights. The northbound lanes of the PCH had been closed. A car sat in the middle lane, its rear end smashed in brutally. And south of it, a yellow tarp spread on the pavement. A body lay beneath it.
Then eight cops and EMTs lined up on either side of it, like pallbearers, and then they spread out a long white sheet which they held as a screen while the yellow tarp was pulled away and a police photographer took pictures with an enormous camera. A man in a dark suit bent over the body, studying it closely. The eight men stood quietly, hardly moving, and they looked straight at each other. They did not look at the body. It was a still-life scene, except for the flashing lights and the southbound traffic passing: eight men standing at attention, guarding a body, and two men moving with great delicacy around it, gathering evidence.

A blue sky over Santa Monica and on the beach, people lay on towels, sunning themselves. A few swimmers in the surf. Roller bladers out on the sidewalk and joggers, grunting about the presidential campaign. A day in which you’ve witnessed death takes on an aura of fragile loveliness. You breathe the salt air and you savor this on behalf of the dead and note the pencil-line delicacy of the long cane poles of the Japanese fishermen on the pier, the two triangles of white sail taut with wind on the distant boat, the skinny boy in blue trunks swinging high on the flying rings on the beach and soaring to the next set of rings. You see the portly man wade into the water and shudder as the water touches his testes and you feel it, the shudder of mortality. And visions of the fallen one stay with you.

A few hours later, online, news that the victim was a woman, 44, whose car had been rear-ended, that she had gotten out of her car and stood waiting for help to arrive and was struck and killed by a third vehicle. Her name was Alma and she was from Los Angeles.
The day goes on and though you don’t keep in mind the sight of the pallbearers around the body, the death attends you wherever you go. You imagine the woman’s plan for her day, maybe lunch in Malibu and a meeting at her kids’ school and supper and a movie afterward, a simple day in sunny L.A., and you abandon your own plan to work and instead you walk around looking at the shining world on behalf of Alma who died on the highway.

You buy a mango/papaya smoothie and a cafe mocha and in the face of death they are spectacular. You sit at a table in the brilliant sunshine, the light splashing off the stone facades and aluminum moldings. She was standing by her car waiting for help to arrive when she was struck by another vehicle and killed, and 30 minutes later men were standing at attention around her. It would be intolerable not to know the name of the woman. Attention must be paid. She trails alongside you as you walk into a bookstore full of art books and you pick up one with pictures of California beach houses, all whites and yellows and pale blues, sun-drenched rooms, bowls of flowers, cotton curtains, and the sea beyond. A beautiful world, Alma, and every day is a gift. I’m sorry you had to leave early.