Don't Call It Insomnia

Insomnia, that one word you can use and get sympathy for being up late last night. Night owl on the other hand, not as much. I am a night owl. I will own it with every fiber of my being. I will never get sympathy or empathy for my infliction, unless maybe among other nite owls. I was once ashamed even tried to claim insomnia. Reading up on symptoms, thinking this and this is true for me, so it must be . But to be honest with myself and others, simply put when I finally make myself go to bed and once all snuggled in I quickly fall fast asleep.  There are rare times I legitimately can claim insomnia, where I'm tossing and turning about with no success of sleep. And even then I claim being a nite owl without abandon. I'm still jealous of those who can go to bed at a decent time and wake up in the morning refreshed, doe eyed and ready for that worm. Don't worry I don't want your worm or to be an early bird. But a consistent daily 8 hours of sleep I long for. To be able to crawl out of my bed before noon on my days off and actually get in more hours of being productive before bedtime.

Now being an nite owl doesn't necessarily mean you're irresponsible and can't be bothered to put yourself to bed on a schedule.  However I also cant say there isn't a lack of self discipline involved. But we all are not running around at night causing chaos. Sometimes its about exploring and curiosity of what happens when most are asleep. Other times its harder to shut down when there is much going on in our brains  and we crave/need to figure it out to before going to bed or else we'll lose it forever. Just one more splash of paint, what if I move it over here or change that. 30 more minutes on this piece and then I can go to bed. Ok 1:30 am I'll got to bed and I can at least get 5 hours of sleep before I have to wake up.

Now are all night owls creative? Yes, and I do mean all not some, or most, or few, but ALL. Can you be creative and not a nite owl, yes. But be a nite owl and not a creative, surely not. Take a listen. Creative as an adjective. Having or showing an ability to make new things or think of new ideas. Using the ability to make or think of new things : involving the process by which new ideas, stories, etc., are created. Done in an unusual and often dishonest way. I don't know if I agree with the  last definition. I mean often... OFTEN dishonest way. Really Webster's you're going to throw some shade like that. Maybe we are out at night creating chaos. For me, to be clear being creative isn't just artists, designers or makers, but scientist, mathematicians, engineers. Being a nite owl is constantly being flooded with ideas always wanting to be be stimulated to get new ideas. So with this constant creative brain always going with the natural chaos of the way of the world during the day. Constantly interrupted of our thoughts to daily task that is required of us. Cause hey, no one is going to pay me so I can sit around and figure out how I can display my cinemagraphs in a frame. We actually have to making a living somehow and that usually is by working for someone else. Which leaves what we truly want to do at night. At night I am left to the quiet of my thoughts. I am able to create without interruption.

 And who then wants to go to bed when you're in a mist of a creative breakthrough?

Comfortable Shoes-- Murder and the Gecko

I committed murder, well more like an accomplice. What's worse is there's no way knowing if the little guy is actually dead. Which is more disturbing than the act of murder.  It started one innocentwhen I was readying myself for a shower  and turning on the water. I noticed unusual movement at the back of the tub. Not being able to actually see I grab my glasses and look again hoping its a bug I could easily manage to dispose of. It turns out to be a tiny little gecko. What the fuck? How do I get rid of this guy while in nothing but a towel. Cause everyone knows you are more vunerable when you're naked. I thought I could force the bugger back down the drain using the showerhead  hose. I could only manage to get the guy swirling in a whirlpool around the drain. Thinking he has drowned I would change the water pressure to finish him off, he scurry to dryer land and security causing me to restart the death ride by whirlpool. Never being successful of getting him down the drain I gave up. I just wanted to go to bed, though desperately needing a bath of some kind, I agree upon some kind of quasi sponge bath. Always keeping a watchful eye on the tub. Hoping he'll get a clue and go back  where he came from. I go to bed hoping to not see him again.

My dreams not coming true. I try a killer for hire, grabbing my cat I try to get her to notice the tasty morsel of fun in the tub. Without success, I free her from  her binding contract and get ready for work. Hoping this mofo well be gone so I can have a proper shower tonight is all I think about all day at work. Leaving the shower curtain pried open if PJ decides to finish him. Thinking maybe maybe I'll get a broom and sweep him out the tub if he's still there. Instead of death by drowning or cat.

I come home check the tub. I don't see him.  I move the curtain no sign of him. Oh he gone he's gone! Just to make sure I ask my mom if she new how the gecko was disposed of. She doesn't know, but to make sure he doesn't come back I should place the plug over the drain so he won't make his way back. Brilliant idea.

I go to place the plug and there nestled in the grove of the drain, Mr Gecko. I thought about letting the heavy stainless steel crush him, but thought the mess it would make and how much harder it would be to easily dispose his lifeless body down the drain. This would need more consultation with my mom. I alert that the gecko is still lingering around in the tub. She enters the bathroom for further inspection. She asked if I tried hosing him down the drain. I said yes but I would get him to swirl around in the drain and not down it. She grabs the showerhead puts it on full force and the water as hot as possible. Since He's already in the drain he only has one place to go further down after a min or two removing the spraying water he finally never resurfaced. Now maybe maybe he just went safely down further in the drain. Out of personal experience it's seems really hard to drown a gecko. We might not be gecko killers. My mom to make sure hes gone tells me to go grab the oven cleaner. My question is will oven cleaner do him in or disfigure it and make it angry. I want him to leave the premises and death by oven cleaner seems like a cruel way to go. I have no reason to object and do as she said.

Now that the drain has been doused in oven cleaner I'm suppose to feel safe. He's never coming back. My showers can be blissful again. Ohh no my overly imagative weary mind is thinking about this half burnt mutant gecko now doing chin ups on a roof pipe hellbent on getting revenge. I've been remembering to cover the drain after every shower just in case he trys to make his comeback. Then one day upon close inspection. I noticed that the drain was slightly askew, could it be that Mr. Gecko was indeed not dead and ploting his revenge. Anxiously I take my shower, but then I see a wierd residue in the drain water. I think what if he's really dead and that's the gases from his decompising body in my drain. And then my last thought was, is there a liquid drano for this.

Late Bloomers are Always in a Pickle

It's like a 10 years non existence of nothing. However yet I still find myself pining after you and contemplating if there is actually something there. As much as I don't want to, as much as I know it's not worth it, as much as I know it be better for me if I just forget you, as much as I tell myself to just stop, I don't. I will waver back and forth and you always win. I guess the heart is a persnickety creature. Or is it, that stupid 90's thing of wanting closure. Because sometimes it feels it was all in my head or was there some flirting in the beginning, then as always my timing is off and even though I might have been somewhat obsessively pushy. I always feel if all else fails be obsessively pushy, that'll seal the deal, not. It's not entirely my fault, with all do respect he was a such an ass about it. Shouldn't that be enough to forget it and move on, why am I trying to hold on to nothing, get back nothing., going back and forth of wanting to knee him in the teeth to then forgive and let be. Now four years later I'm chasing him down at shows. Cause of course he would be in band and be a drummer. What am I thinking? It is possible I just like hating myself feeling like some deranged groupie. Which by the way, no matter how I'll try to explain or get my point across I'll be that crazy girl. My first show in a while I couldn't say anything. I did want to enjoy myself, I thought being silent and adverting eyes was the best way to come off as cold and dead inside. When I left there alone, thinking I blew it.. I shouldn't have been a bitch. See what happens when a I'm bitch, I feel guilty it about always, later. And of course because I blew it last time, I don't even get a second time to at least try to mend things at the next show.

 Here I am with no closure and no way of making amends to the past. I could get another chance but lets face it, I had my second chance and there's no getting it back. I could wait around for another, but what for, I'm only the one who puts out the effort, who puts myself out on the line for what? Another humiliation. The easiest way to work a guy out of my system, kiss him, fuck him, be absolutely disgusted by him. So how do you work yourself out from under a man and move on, when you never where exactly underneath him. Hmmm, and its not like I'm not eyeing other people, but I seem to be in this vortex where I can't get a date, let alone a boyfriend to save my life. A welcomed distraction of my time would be nice and yes I have my art and maybe my I'm going to die an old maid so why even bother, but that boy sure is cute isn't getting me anywhere, maybe something that's a more proactive pursuit. I could also look at my possibilities which is another drummer, which come on have I not learned my lesson already or the guy I occasionally fuck. Which NO, I should never, why ruin a good thing just to get over some other guy. I have picked up every known craft a spinster could have(and by every known, I mean sewing and knitting), unless I want to start making things out of cat hair, something has got to change. So as you can see I do have my pickle in quite the jam. Either I become my next work in progress. Or have this slight obsession of trying to mend something that is beyond repair. Lets not talk about how dangerously close I am to emailing him again which is kinda how I found myself in this mess to begin with. OK, so obsessing about me it is.

This is my issh

How does one share their personal life. I think it's worth mentioning in this blog, it is practically about my life. Why not share my abilities at missing signals, misinterpeting signals that were never there and always late realizing that there were signals? So here is a brief history of my non - existent love life.

The difficulties with men started probably in elementry school  with a boy, color scented markers, and a flying paper airplane, but who has that kind of time to go back that far. Lets leave that to a pyschiatrist. The past decade, lets start there. It makes for sweet short story of complications and the major slump I can't seem to get myself out of.

A thing to know about me I like to feel guarded at all times. I never fully let my true emotions show. You should always just bury certain feelings really deep down under the surface. And you stuff it down deep hoping he'll make the first move. When that doesn't happen you  reveal those feelings at the most critical of times so that you look like a complete crazy stalking fool. I can't seem to bring my tortured feelings up for a guy unless he finally moves thousands of miles away or he has given up and moved on to find him a normal girl. On a night many years ago, after not being able to sleep I muster up a sleep deprived courage to send one gruesome pathetic email to... let's call him Dr. C. I knew after hitting send the feelings wouldn't be mutual. I think it was about expelling the truth so that I could move on. I could have cared less what his feelings were. I did it I can move on. So I thought then I get the responding email. The only clear part is he had a girlfriend at the time.

So that's that, we're just friends, cool? right? However my little brain can't leave it at that. It was how it was said and the winking smiley face. My little brain eventually managed to move on or can I say back to his friend a former bandmate and that turned about to be a crackhouse mess of a decision. In the end he put it like this " I have two jobs and a girlfriend I barely even have time for my friends." Bam, not even considered a friend. In hindsight I might have been a bit of a phone stalkerish and didn't handle the non friend gesture politely. I did however try to see if maybe we could mend and truly be friends and as of that how things are now is all on him. It seems that is impossible gesture for him to even respond to leaving me slightly angry with bitter resentment and I might have carried that hatred and resentment of him (Mr. Prick) on Dr C who didn't do anything to deserve that. Currently I hate on Mr Prick mostly ignore Dr. C and on ocasion I get it on with ever faithful Loyal D. For the most part everything is perfect, except that I'm bored. It's not happily ever after or perfect, but it works. Sure I would like a boyfriend. I don't make a great of girlfriend. Then Dr. C goes and do this:

Made me smile...hope all is
attached :
 

 What? no why? he still has the framed anatomy page I gave him from years ago. What does this mean, yes he recently graduated and maybe it's a hey thanks for the encouragement I did it, but when in our brief history has he ever sent a quick message on his on recognizance? Never.. ok maybe one time a Birthday e-card, so it could probably mean nothing. It's usually me that initates the contact and half the time I don't get a response. And of course there was a winky face making it's appearance in the subject line. If it's strictly platonic keep the winky faces at a minum of none. Because otherwise you're flirting or you'll become that creepy old guy that winks at every girl. Weeks later I've decided it meant nothing. However fool me once yada yada. I'm not falling for it anymore. Love ya, wish him the best, but a girls gotta move on. This year I won't be a spaz and try not to fall into my ruiner of love ways. I could even not be guarded and be true with my feelings with friends, family and loved ones. Maybe I really do want a real true actual boyfriend , well see how it goes.

People Are Strange

I usually don't talk to a lot of people at my paper pushing job. Partly because deep down inside I don't like people, partly I don't want to talk to half the people I work with, partly I could careless if I'm talking to people and having to listen to what they have to say. However I get to observe people while  at work.

And there is just this one motherfucker, that all I can say is, what is the deal, is this working for you? First I'm apparently older than this guy yet he looks way older than I am. It doesn't help either that he acts like most of my Dad's older male cousins that I remember when I was younger. I know most people don't look as young as I do for my age and even someone  younger can look older than me. I get it, it's mostly good genes. I like to think that I kind of do some work to keep myself healthy and not rapidly aging so fast. Truth is, it's easy to look young when you're not a chain smoker and can limit your alcohol intake. Yet this dude wears clothes three times his size. Which could be easy since I think he barely weighs 100 pounds and he's not even my height. Then the do rag he has to wear until he gets into work, only because it isn't permitted, otherwise I think he would wear that ridiculous thing all day 24/7. The other day I caught him wearing his pants almost by his ankles and the only reason he got away with it is because he had that long undershirt tucked in, you know so not as to disrespectfully show of his underwear to the world and then a longer shirt over that. He may not be as old as me, but he's still in his 30's. Clearly by the way he's dressed he is quite the gentleman. If that means every night at the end of the shift he tries to cut inline so that he can quickly go outside to wait for his ride to pick him up. Then yes, a gentleman indeed.

It wouldn't be surprising to know that he has mostly annoyed the women here and who only interact with for entertainment purposes or they are at that same level. And I'm really open to different styles that people express themselves with. 

I just don't understand how people get stuck and dress as the would at high school and never move on to a more sophisticated age appropriate dress. Cause there's nothing that makes you more dated and aged then to just keep on being who you are in high school. There's a part of ourselves that tend to evolve or strive for maturity as we learn life's lessons. Oh well all I can say is . . .

Class Act

You're taking a leisurely walk or sitting at your desk and then...YOU run your hand through your hair feeling something funny and that's odd, you don't remember putting a bobby pin in your hair. Now this foreign object is in your hand and you can't make out what it is. So now it's this panic of mystery and uncertainity. What is this in my hair, is it a leaf, a dried piece of flower, a seed of some kind or worse.....the dead carcass of a bug or worse a live carcass of a bug, maybe bird shit? Now depending on the situation and may be able to quickly discard it on the sly hoping no one sees you ditch something after running your fingers through your hair and be on your merrily way, maybe run you fingers through again just to make sure there isn't anymore. But then you might think to yourself  as you get rid of it, did anyone see it in my hair? How long has it been  in my hair? Is there more than one? Did they start multiplying? And if someone saw something in my hair, why didn't they say anything preventing further colonization in you hair.  Cause if they seen it do they just think that you never wash your hair allowing unimaginable things to grow in it. Now if you're are not situation number one. You might want to take a look before you toss it. You might take a quick look to make sure no one has saw you discover something in you're that shouldn't be there. But do you dare after the freak out, to look at it, to actually find out what it is. What if it is a bug, a living bug in you're hair all day, with maybe others that you haven't discovered yet, creating a family and putting up real estate. So you look and squint and then finally release your breath, ohh it's just a balled up little dried leaf. And this is what happened from my walk to my car from work.

Comfortable Shoes--July 25

You Know --
You know when, you break up with a guy and you're all devasted and don't understand why? But hoping to still be friends and you end up never seeing each other again despite your best efforts. Finally having months or years apart you reach that moment of clarity and you say to yourself what ya know he was a dick. Had me thinking it was me?! Damn shame I wasted all that time on a prick thinking he was worth something.  Now is there anyway to share this clarity with said dick without appearing bitter?

Comfortable Shoes-- July 19

So you are probably wondering why call my blog dairy Comfortable Shoes. Well after years of receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist. Floating in a ebb of mindless unappreciated work. I grew found of heels and in a sitting all damn day positions heels are perfect. Heels made me feel beautiful, heels got me attention. Now I'm not going to say that all heels are comfortable, some more than others yes. However  comfortable shoes come in array of different flavors and what can be deemed as comfortable can actually be uncomfortable. Like my currently worn 15 dollar ballet flats from Target. They look comfortable but that's about it because Target doesn't know what a size 10 ballet flat is and so I have once again had to get a size 10 because the size 11 barely stays on my fit, but none the lesson learned no more buying ballet flats from Target not matter how adorable.

As I was saying, heels became my go to girls and when I finally got the dream job I've always wanted,  well wait... partial dream job of working at an art museum I quickly learned the definition of comfortable shoe for this job and heels was not one of them at least not for standing up  7 hours a day on white oak floors and Italian marble. No shoe will ever be comfortable for that but I learned to have to beauty over function.

But it also works as a metaphor always grasping for that comfortable shoe and not quite getting it. So in the end I grab a shoe hoping it will be the comfort I seek for 7 hours of hard floors and most of the time they just don't live up to the hype. I mean I even bought crocs  ballet flats. Me wearing crocs? granted they don't look like Crocs but yeah crocs??? All I know is I miss my heels.

Comfortable Shoes-- June 10th

What do you do when a man offers you his credit card to purchase his tickets and as you swipe and hand him his receipt to sign,  this gentlemen ask, did you swipe it? And you reply yes. He then asks again no, did you swipe IT?  a emphasis on it with a double raised eyebrow and a wink. What would you're response be? I know it can't be a loud yell of Guard repeatedly till they whisked him away. Nor would it be to tell him to wash his mouth out with soap and act like a civilized man. Maybe you can get away with a confused look . But mostly you simply grin and pretend that he didn't mean what he just said or that you never quite catch that last part and tell him to enjoy his visit. You then proceed to count down the minutes till you can get home under a steaming hot shower to wash the old dirty man away.

Comfortable Shoes-June 3rd

I don't make a great girlfriend. I'm glad that I finally realize this cause I don't have to try to be in or get stuck in  a relationship with pre-conceived notions like; not being allowed to have sex with other people. However does anyone have the answer for being able to having a friend you like having sex with but just keep it that way, a friendship with sex? Oh heavenly father let me find the way.

Comfortable Shoes- May 21st

Never considered myself to be a too tall gal. But maybe tall enough that the short guys look me over and walk on. To never be hit on at all, makes this short guy geek well, feel very small. However I adore short handsome men. Their like bite size single serving delicacies. Until I really got to think about. As I all maul things over while checking out this beautiful short guy over the counter. Up and down and all around I noticed that this bite size delicacy had  tiny man hands. And  as I look at his tiny, man, hands and then mine and his tiny hands and back to mine. I realized I couldn't do it with a man who's hands are tinier than mine and with this I know I ain't missing on anything.

Comfortable Shoes

This is my life as a 30 something trying to find her place in the world. Which translates to I move from job to job not finding a career. And never having time to make money off bring an artist. To scared to step it up in my jobs and afraid to start something on my own. How does one move on in the world with out owning responsibility. You can't, so I'm stuck in limbo until I get over my fears and try harder. So this is a diary loosely based on my life, sometimes exaggerated, sometimes wishful thinking. Written in dialogue and in statements or scenarios. Hope its not to confusing and that you laugh and at times think.