Sunday, June 27, 2010

Beach-Day Two: Swimming and Swimming and More Swimming...

I woke up at 6am as my alarm went off for an hour before that.

I walk out onto the deck where my mother, Jill and Camille are and am once again overtaken by the beauty of the beach.

Booyah bitches, I managed to see the sunrise without staying up all night.

How is that for dedication?

Ate cinnamon rolls for breakfast with organic milk that Jill bought. Apparently everyone thought it tasted really good but me, I thought it tasted weird because it was in a carton. I'm not used to that...but oh well.

Two hours later the kids all eventually woke up and I decided that I was going to go down to the pool for a swim/laying out in the water and tanning thing.

Mom had already put sunscreen on me...

12 hours later with a few 10-30-min breaks in between I got out of the pool, ate dinner. Saw the amazing moon and then came downstairs to my room where I have the fan going on fully blast and am trying to talk to Keith but can't seem to be awake enough for that.

My hands and arms are burnt, typing hurts, but I told myself that I needed to write in this every day and so that's what I'm going to do.

I guess I'm going to bed now, since I've typed the rest of this with my eyes closed and nothing else going on except for the occasional clicking by Keith as he looks through something or is playing a game or something.

Tired now.

More tomorrow.

Beach-Day One: The Trip and the House.

The ride down was hot and humid.

Mom and I rode in the SUV, loaded down with luggage, beach chairs, camera's laptops, just...everything and we absolutely had a ball.

Music blasting and four hours later with four stops (for those who actually have the ability to pee in public restrooms) we made it to Emerald Isle and to the beach house.

I walked in and was absolutely speechless.

I mean...holy god.

Fucking hell this place is amazing.

Wow...

So amazing.

I mean, words just can't describe.

Five bedrooms, eight beds, kitchen, dinning room, living room, four bathrooms, wrap around deck, pool table with pinball machine in a bar like room, and the house has it's own elevator...

Not to mention the view sitting in the living room with a wall full of basically nothing but windows is all beach and ocean...all...nothing else. Just miles and miles and miles of open water.

It's...yeah.

Did I mention we have our own pool?

Kiss my ass, we're never leaving...

Ever.

The first day we went swimming in the pool until sunset, then we sat on the beach for an hour or so, ate dinner then was treated to the view of the full moon on the ocean.

Oh, who's we?

Jill who is Mom's older best friend, she's 60. Her daughter Camille who is 40, and her three kids, Julie who is 11, and the twins Lee and Kelly (named after my mother) who are 8. Then of course my mother and I.

Time to eat breakfast now. At the table, overlooking the damn ocean.

It's fucking great.


Sunday, May 30, 2010

Dreams Of The Damned



I had a horrible nightmare this morning. I had already woken up several times but decided to continue to go back to sleep being the dog and I were so comfortable.

Maybe that was such a good idea.

And maybe, to some people this nightmare wasn't horrible, but for me I couldn't escape it fast enough.

I don't remember where it started, because the end was so devastatingly over emotional that it kind of drowned the rest of the dream out, but Sage and I were in our first apartment. Amazingly enough it looked like a combination of my parents' house in Greensboro and a Japanese house. We lived by what I imagine to be the water plain with the train going through it in the movie Spirited Away (Shown above). (Listened to a song from that last night, looked at pictures of the old house a few days ago, listened to the sound of rain last night) The water was green instead of blue though, and it sparkled in the sunlight.

Anyway, to get on with the dream, basically his grandmother (Who is already passed away IRL) is very sick and what not. I go to work one day, come back and he's sitting on the counter, talking on his phone to his mother (Who has also passed away IRL) and when he sees me he hangs up and has this very serious face and aura about him. He tells me he's leaving that his grandmother is sick and that he needs to go. Well, me being the irrational person I am in this dream apparently tell him not to go, but that might have something to do with the fact that instead of him packing a bag, he instead has packed everything he owns and already has his bag on. I can't figure out why he isn't talking to me about it, I tell him that he can't go and leave me there alone that I can't do everything on my own. He doesn't say anything, just looks at me with sad eyes and a blank face. I smack him, yelling at him to talk to me. He ignores me.

The dream skips a bit, I run into the house and he is about to walk out of the door and he's on the phone with his mother. I'm crying and screaming for him not to leave, apparently she's yelling at him on the other end of the phone as well and he yells at us both to just "shut the hell up". Stunned I go quiet as my heart squeezes in my chest.

Now at some point in time, I think the real me, not the dream me starts realizing there are things wrong in the dream, like...why in the hell am I trying to stop him from leaving to see his sick grandmother when I'd do the same to him? And why does he have so many things packed if he's just going to see her?

A bit later in the dream he tells me he's going to be gone for a few months, and that we're not going to talk to each other or something of the like. I of course have an even greater breakdown and a friend from...next door maybe...? comes into the house as I'm having a full out sobbing and panicking attack on the floor and Sage just turns and walks out.

Now, if only I could describe the feels of pure sickness when I woke up after this dream. I mean, it was so emotionally damaging that I had been crying in my sleep which is not an easy thing to do!

Alas, I have been able to rationalize quite a bit of the dream and have been pushing it from my mind for most of the day. But it still bothers me once in a while.

Damn real life for interfering with what's supposed to be mine, I wanted to dream about making out with Gackt again goddamn it!

I wish I could have described that dream better, but it's hard since it's slowly slipping from my mind anyway.

Abandonment fears maybe? Just fears in general from the big change that is coming fairly soon? Who knows...but I would like to keep the nightmares to a minimum if at all possible. Kthnx.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Change...

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...that is how I'm feeling right now.

Saturday, May 8, 2010

Sick, Sitting and Sniffling.

So I watched a really good movie by accident.

It was an accident because I meant to download the first movie, but ended up with the second. Torrents are killing me, and killing my hard drive space.

What's the movie? Oh yeah, it's called Appleseed Ex Machina, but what I wanted was the first Appleseed movie but it was so good anyway. Think I said this. Sorry.

Listening to music now. Finally decided to check out 30 Seconds to Mars, so now I'm listening to one of their CDs (also torrent-ed, but totally just to see if I want to buy one of their CDs) Some stuff is good, but I'm not really impressed over all. Then again, I'm really picky about my guy's voices. Hm...

I'm sitting here sweating buckets. And I can be in 100 degree weather and barely sweat at all. I can feel it running down my back and I have the air blowing on me at 67 degrees and still it's like...urgh. I'm tired, well my body and eyes are but my mind is reeling. If I were breaking my fever wouldn't it have stopped by now? I mean really, this has been going on for an hour now and if I shed anymore clothes I'll be naked. Which normally I wouldn't mind if I'm like, sleeping or something but I'm not. I'm sitting up in bed on my laptop.

I feel gross, I want to take a shower. Maybe I will as soon as I stop this sweating thing. I really think I will.

I want to write. I have ideas in my head but I can't form them into pictures/movies/sounds or however it is I think when I write. Weird isn't it? I want to work on things, and I have ideas for things but nothing is coming out of my head. Feels like there's a fuzzy wall. I blame...something, not sure what. Lowe's I guess, for my lack of brain power. Oh well.

Moving on...

Suddenly I'm very sleepy, should I try and sleep? I think I might. Though I'm in one of those moods where when I think about sleeping I start to get anxiety.

Shit, now I feel sick to my stomach...

Going to go and yak now.

Have fun myself.

Monday, April 12, 2010

The Day of 34 Days

Starting from today I have 34 days to finish writing my book!

It will be hard, it will be grueling and I'm sure it'll kick my ass but no matter what I'm going to do it!

Good luck, myself!

Friday, April 9, 2010

Phoebe Prince

She was 15 when she hung herself in the rear stairwell of her parent's and her apartment home because of being bullied at school.

The school was informed about the bullying "a week before" she killed herself and did nothing.

The six children that bullied her relentlessly are being charged.

Other than a deep, deep sadness that I felt when I read that article I thought "If only I went to the same school as her. I would have protected her."

I'm so sorry Phoebe Prince...

I don't know you, or even know what you look like, but my heart hurts for you.

I hope you're in a better place.