my life

is not conducive to the boxes provided in law school applications.

Maybe.

Just for the record: I'm not crazy. I'm very levelheaded. Very centered. Very aware. Very intelligent and direct. and maybe I intimidate you. and maybe you didn't expect that I would intimidate you. and so maybe it's easier for you to conclude that I'm crazy. But actually you're just immature. You're insecure. You're not sure you could handle me. and in that case, I'm glad you're keeping your distance. I can feel it. you can feel it. that sparkle and chill. it's electric. but I get it.

and ultimately, despite our connection, I have no interest in men who can't handle me. I already know too well exactly how it ends. But just in case you were wondering, I'm not crazy. and I'm a very generous kindhearted faithful partner. Maybe you know that. Maybe it scares you. So I'll have to be satisfied with this small amount.

I'm living in the swing and sway of things right now. Feeling the downward falls, and searching for the brief moments of levity. It's a little hard for one person to mitigate the constant barrage of information coming from home. I've not always been so fragile. I will not always be so fragile. Right now though, I am most definitely and appropriately exhausted and a little less than stable. Maybe sometime you'll know what's happening, and then maybe you'll see that I'm actually handling things pretty well. The destruction of one's family, especially from the inside, is not so easily weathered my friend.

Maybe we'll still know each other when I'm back. Maybe then you'll be a little older, too.

conversations with myself

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING??!? ...

I don't know... trying to get better? trying things. just trying. in general. too hard.

are you the crazy girl who immediately ruins things before they begin? yes, yes sometimes.

are you too eager? too aggressive? too forward? yep. sometimes yes.

are you ever going to feel good in your own skin for more than a fleeting moment here and there? I don't know. I'm depressed. this will pass, right? when things get better with my family? when I'm done with these applications? when I'm dating a nice guy who likes me? I still smile a lot. that's good right?

do you need a guy to validate you and renew your self esteem? um, yes. unfortunately it does help a lot.

do you think this is right? no. no I really don't.

why did you do that? why not just play it cool and lay low and feign apathy? I don' t know. Can I blame the drinking? No, you can't, you only had one. and still no, you can't. Cool it.

It could have been worse you know. I am not the girl who sits on the sidelines quietly waiting and looking off into the distance with the long hair gently blowing in the wind. I am not breezy. I try to be this girl I see so often winning the game. I fail. I laugh loudly. I like people. I have opinions. I want to know things. I am strong, and so therefore I am fragile. I am sensitive. sexual. expressive. talented. intelligent. intellectual. I mean what I say. I should better protect my heart.

I know you're not that girl. How many times have I told you that you should protect your heart? and you never do it.

It's hard to sit with this sinking feeling and pause. and not fill the space. the void. I want to scream sometimes. or shake someone. or kiss someone. just to escape from the feeling. for a minute. and I do. and after the minute, there it is. just sitting there waiting for me to return. It's not going anywhere anytime soon and I've done some other stupid thing in a ridiculous attempt to break free.

But things are looking up, right? ...are they? I would not agree with you there, self. It's hard to believe there's a light at the end of the tunnel when you can't see it.

what would the light be? I don't know. Some healing? letting go? of everything? and everything below the everything?

would it be a boy? no. no a boy would be more like a band aid.

acceptance to school? Maybe, if school was fulfilling and something I really enjoyed learning about. I don't know. Is school just another escape?

The crux of this is so deep. it's a long road out. If my brother was better. If my parents were happy. If I felt the closeness to them that used to be there. If I felt the closeness to anyone that used to be there. It used to be there, right?

I don't know. You keep saying "if." that's no good.

yeah. so where are we now?

Pretty much where we were before we started talking.

Okay let's say something productive so this wasn't just a waste of time. So what are you going to do?

...I'm going to stop trying. some things may be ruined. but I guess that's the way life is.

finally

I really want to date someone sometime who isn't completely self involved. I think that would be a really rich, worthwhile experience. Does this man exist??

I love that, even when you tell self-involved people outright that they are such, and they hear you, they always have a priceless response: you're right, I am self involved, I am so terrible, my self involvement is a really big problem for me, I'm not nearly good enough. and on and on with the song and dance.

How in the world can one ever escape his own self involvement?? it may seem impossible. but believe it or not it can be done. I'll give you a line, even...

"How are you?" three words.

of course you have to just leave your own issues alone for a couple of minutes to listen for the response and hear it, which might come as a challenge, I mean how will you survive without your issues?!? but these three words are a great starting place. The beginning of the awareness that there are other people in the world. complex people. worthwhile people. and the fact that it is meaningful to experience someone else's reality as it simply exists. when you live inside your own head thinking you're the only one on the planet, you're really missing out on a lot. you might be missing out on everything.

A couple of things that renew/reaffirm my faith in a force bigger than myself:

1. irony

2. closure, hindsight

let go

you find you don't have

what you've never had

so why does it feel like a loss?

why does it feel

like life's nothing more

than a hand and a coin and yet another toss?

it's the semblance that makes its way

into my head

the semblance I hold and believe

when it crumbles and fades

at the drop of a hat

I sit with the wreckage and grieve

and I look to you, friend

to confirm I exist

that my life isn't just one elaborate dream

or lately a nightmare

I long for the day

where I wake and things are what they seem

Blogtastic

Blogging is so dramatic. geez. right?

nobody's perfect.

So long.

Words like ready. better. should. all freak me out.

I'm not ready.

I have things to do. that I don't want to do. I don't want to stay. I don't want to go. I don't know the right thing.

I'm stuck. empty. blank. restless. stale. toxic. idle.

When do things get better? when we make them better? when we decide that what we've got is enough? Can addictions be healed? Can we become free? Can we evolve past codependency? Do people ever wake up and see things they didn't see couldn't see before? Do we actually grow up? Can we actually change? I'm not optimistic.

It's been the roughest year. so far. 2009.

I'm really going to miss it. the city. the people. and maybe I'll be back. but this time will be gone then. I'm leaving it behind. I'm not ready. I have to go. Things just aren't right here anymore. I don't know what happened. I just lost it. I don't know where it went, when it went, why it went, or what it is. It's just gone. and I have to let go.

A salute to the end of this year. A hope that these will be good months. Productive months. calm months. thorough months. Months of closure. and enjoyment. and health.

new moves

you've proven unworthy

so I readjust

each time as I must

to stay safe from the lust

but then even to trust

in the things we've discussed

is a bust

while you dance around

your life gathers dust

and all I can do

is watch and adjust

Don't be scared

do you know what's better than religion at doing what religion sets out to do?  unconditional love.

and in the scheme of things, in the scheme of the whole universe and beyond, endless space and time, zillions and billions of years and ages and moments, our lives are so small.  so short.  so fleeting.  so special and magical. our lives are a speck. a sparkle. a flash. who CARES what religion you are? who cares what religion your children are? isn't it more important to care about the nature of the time we have here? what we give, how we love, learn, preserve, care, grow, adapt, evolve? aren't these things more important than a man made theory about things we really can't know right now?

if you have a feeling, that's great. If you have beliefs, if you know things, that's lovely.  If things have been revealed to you, if you're found a community of people who share your values or if you're a pioneer and you have stumbled upon some new enlightening information, that is amazing.  and even more amazing if you find people who agree with you.  it is a gift.  to be cherished. indeed. but at some point if we invest any amount of faith into ANYTHING outside of ourselves we MUST accept that others are and always will be different and should be different and other paths are right.  otherwise how insulting to this creator of ours, this omniscient omnipotent creator, to imply that things are not exactly as they should be.  To try to grab the wheel and steer, and force, and fix, and push and pull in the name of faith is an oxymoron. a conflict of interest. a failure. to judge, to condemn, to damn, to hate, to attach. to presume. to fight. these are the antitheses of faith.

Several times in my life so far I have been reminded that I do not belong in various religions.  I don't fit in, my spirituality cannot be accommodated, my family is not welcome, my heritage is not enough.  The message I have received is "come as you are, but just change a couple things first." and unfortunately I have tried. I am so willing. too willing.  but ultimately, it turns out, I am who I am. I can't not be me. and I happen to believe that I am enough. I am beautifully crafted with an open mind and thoughts and opinions and feelings and all.  It is this belief that actually allows me to change and grow. So there has always in the past come a time. when I must walk away.  alone. and disappointed.  I walk.  I find a place in the grass, in the dirt, to sit.  to sprawl. to listen as my heart shatters and aches longing for someone to take me as I am.  These religions are beautiful, meaningful, they have good intentions but, God, we distort them.  Our egos get in the way of the unconditional nature You have tried to instill.  and I look at the sky, my throat is tight, and over and over again I just ask "why?" I scream, I beg, I plead, I tug, I thrash, I cry.

I am Your daughter, yet You wont reply.  "Just remain open," You finally say, "as I show you things." that is my job, I guess, my constant challenge.  Knowing what these things are, or what they mean, is not part of the deal.

So I stay just a child with a curious mind.

Looking out through these eyes both wide open and blind.

the clean slate

Hey Mindy - love yourself,  love other people, read good books.  Things are just fine.

How will you cope with the fear and the past? We've got some important choices to make.

________

the daisies in my window crane their necks just to get a glimpse of light. of warmth. 

maybe the things we need are always in the air maybe just around the corner and its up to us to find them see them feel them there and take them in with love and care...

look at you, from out of nowhere, teaching me all these things I've always wanted to learn.  How lucky am I even just to have this small amount.  I never could have seen it coming.

and how silly would I be to continue to resist. to fear. 

I'll not miss another chance to tell you dear,

I simply like it when you're near. 

and I'm just thankful that you're here.

math and the mirror

...

I can’t help it

I’m poised but she is breaking aching shaking risking the solid ground I need to stand. the ground I built with my own hands. I resist, but she demands.

I thought I’d landed but actually she’s always flying high to fall she feels the slightest breeze with ease with pain with laughter and she lingers loving after some would say its gone.

She feels you

but I can’t allow this we made an agreement strictly about this but she doesn’t listen. not to me. She only hears cacophony. I have to love her protect her let her lean but intervene when she’s about to jump the fence.  It’s too intense dear girl don’t you remember what we lost the great expense the time it cost when you let us get tossed?

...

Smiling, she considers me, with tears in her sighs she is gentle and kind without compromise and she asks me repeatedly to realize just why she lives and why she dies and I have to admit after all the time I analyze and criticize... she’s always there.  and she never lies.  

so I take her hand and close my eyes, I fear we're near our next demise and she looks at me. and I feel her way.  

and I know we'll make it out okay.

A little older by Tuesday.

I can't sleep despite my body, which keeps asking me to rest.  It's getting progressively less patient.  and it's mad at me for the dairy. and the chocolate.

I like unusual boys. how tragic. and sometimes I think I'm just crazy. but I must not be. because if I were crazy, you might want me. But no. I lack that dysfunctional intrigue, and I actually do the work to let go of my issues so I might have happy functional relationships, so I'm not quite interesting enough. not sexy enough. for you. But you did allow me to think I was. You did watch as you were leading. ...and misleading. 

and its hard for me to believe you were unaware when I know I wear my heart on my sleeve and I know you felt it beat harder when we were close.  and we were very close. 

Flirting is innocent but we should all be considerate of the fragile human heart and signals we send.  mixed signals.  It can be cruel. Unusual, yes. interesting, charming, intoxicating, yes. but also cruel.  So maybe the challenge for me is to spot the man who is unusual but also kind.  True kindness, most unusual itself.  People don't always know if or when they're being cruel and yet the truth remains. 

but I too have been cruel.  unknowingly. to a close friend.  I was floating, buzzing, whirling around in my little make believe world and two months passed in a blink. and she starred in four shows. and she turned 26. and she called me several times.  and I thought of her often but it's not enough just to think.  I let her down.  I know I'll make it up to her with time, but at the moment, there's a pang in my chest.  I never meant to hurt you dear friend.  but I can hear it in your voice.  and I'm sorry.  I'm so sorry.  You deserved my time and energy.

We walk around sometimes with our heads held high thinking we have things all figured out. when in fact, I've been a terrible friend.  and the unusual boy likes a different girl. 

and I always forget...

I have a man who cares about me.  he appears out of thin air when I most need the reminder, and when I least expect it.  when and only when.  and our relationship doesn't really fit words.  One year ago if you would have taken a snapshot my life was so very different. I was falling, stumbling, diving heart first into love.  and my career was theatre. and it was going well.  and my family was oblivious and virtually untouched by the weight of suffering. and in what seemed like one moment, it vanished before my eyes. and there stood John. as he did tonight. In general, I rarely accept the kind of comfort he provides.  I rarely allow myself to give in.  but he does understand. quite deeply in fact.  and he's good to his girlfriend. and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I don't long for Alan.  I'm thankful to be rid of him.  It wasn't right.  but tonight I am reminded that still, scattered around my space and happiness, the pain of the wound persists.  in my hips. in my lungs. the pit of my stomach, and right between my eyes.  I can touch it.

We can never truly know each others' thoughts.  So it is our responsibility, if we are to be kind, to take care in our words and actions.  to be aware of our tendency, our power, our ability, to manipulate, to imply, to mislead, and then to proceed with compassion.  To be kind, to be compassionate, honest, transparent, is not necessarily to be nice. or even selfless.  What have I learned? Well I'm still asking.  every day. I don't suppose I'll ever really have an answer.  but the important thing is the asking.  I'm tempted to say that I've learned to never love.  to never trust.  and sometimes I do feel that way.  but settling for that answer would be unfortunate indeed.  

I've been so free from this, and how unfair.  the smallest trigger brought me back to that familiar gloom.  tonight.  I told John about things lately, and what is my deal.  and he said simply, gently, "Mindy. He wanted to marry you... and he left." and something clicked.  it rushed through my veins. my arms. my heart. and sitting in the car on Ashland and Foster I cried.  and I let John hold me.

and now we're well into Tuesday. and I'm thankful to be alone. somber and pensive, but content. Rest is important.  

well... damn.

I've got a crush.

my head's strong 

but my heart's 

made of mush.

it's not hard 

to see you're 

in no rush.

but, sir, I've 

got a problem-

I've got a crush.

humph.

in the meantime

Just to share some moments. in the same room. with you. is a gift.

Sounds, smells, words, phrases, hips, fingertips, music, air. All are secondary to the simple presence. The joy in the moment. A moment shared with you.

A whole box of moments. to savor. just as they are. tiny. ordinary. sublime.

Last night's thinking: abridged

The Quincy Brown Line stop has so much character. Someone should shoot a movie here. I could do without the smell though. Pigeon shit I believe.

As a rule, I used to run, sprint, to catch an incoming train. But lately I enjoy the waiting. That little voice in my head has been telling me don’t rush. So I've been missing trains.

My brain was sleepy in class tonight. Note to self: always bring chocolate to a 4 hour class. dark chocolate. sugary. caffeinated. good for concentration… especially when I’m crammed in a small room with so many handsome prospective lawyers. FOCUS! Focus on the homework Mindy! I haven’t been doing the homework…

I used to care a lot about homework.

Reluctantly, I answered a question aloud tonight,  and of course I had the wrong answer. Not so long ago in my life that may have induced a panic attack, for real. but this time I was able to forgive myself. and laugh. and breathe. and continue. Looking foolish is part of being human. if we’re doing it right.

So in fact time changes a few things sometimes without asking your permission. I used to rush around.  I used to panic.  I used to be more studious. And today I remembered:  I used to be …in love. I almost forgot. A lot can change with time.

I’m going out for pizza tomorrow night with a boy.  I don’t really eat pizza but he was so enthusiastic. How could I refuse? He’s a very cute boy. Oh… dating.

Home.

The top 5 things about being back in my parents' house at this moment:

1) my dad made chocolate cookies, which are amazing because my dad is awesome.
2) my brother is not only drug free but also chatty and sweet (?!)
3) the hot tub
4) So You Think You Can Dance on DVR
5) we're going to the lake cottage tomorrow

friends, I love you. Things have been really crappy. and they will be crappy again someday. but right now, at this moment, things are pretty wonderful. I have a home again, a sanctuary. I don't think I could ever be content without a close relationship with my parents, my brother. I took my space, I took my time, and still my well being is directly related to theirs. There's no way around it. Family is important to me.

A huge sigh of relief today. and one more (small) victory for hope and forgiveness and possibility.

I couldn't say what went wrong

except that it didn't go right

maybe you stare too deep and too long
and if I could melt I just might

but then we'd have a wet sloppy mess on our hands

and you'd be disgusted and walk away

so I hold it together

make words of the weather

and just walk beside you

in hopes that you'll stay.

how can I tell you the things that I know

I'm not always sure but I'm always kind
I'm no good at talking I'd just rather show

I promise I'll say when I change my mind

and these little blond kids

fair skinned

in tiny sneakers

play baseball in the park

maybe we all live one foot in the dark

I know I've been shy but life lately is lonely

and if I could show you, you might like to know me

but this is a game I don't know how to play

is it better to lose or to just walk away?

Write a new note.

When it feels like the only thing that will really clear out my mind is writing, I usually write on paper. The contact is satisfying. 

A little voice in my head is saying to me that it's time to start sharing again. and I'm reluctant. I'm afraid. I'm a perfectionist. and I don't want to mess up. I have a clean slate, it's a new start in a lot of different areas, and I'm terrified.  But I will make mistakes. and I guess I can still accept myself for that. 

I'm going to do very well on the LSAT. It's right up my alley.  The alley called "meticulous overachieving overthinking neat freak." 

I'm happy being single. until I meet boys I want to kiss. Boys with strong arms and crooked noses and dark eyes.  They make being single a little more complicated.  And the inner dialogue gets a little tiresome.  and I'm stubborn.  still very very stubborn. 

I'm actually pretty great, but you don't know that. and you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

I guess all we can do is our best.  and we all mess up. and things work out sometimes and sometimes they don't and contrary to what we're taught to believe, it seems like it has nothing to do with whether or not we mess up.   

I sang last night with my old friend.  This piano bar was so much seedier than I remembered.  I'm not sure if it has changed over the years since I was there last, or if my memories are just so biased that I didn't recall the tacky carpet, or the strange, awkward assortment of regulars who sit in the corners on Tuesday nights and bring music to sing. The resonance of music is fascinating to me. No matter who or what you are, no matter what you're going through, we all melt into music.    Or at least I do. 

oh what a night

I don't feel bad about it.  I feel... liberated.  and I hope someday you, too, will feel liberated.  Either because you'll learn to be all right without a man, or you'll find someone better than him. Much better. But my path is my path and your path is yours, and I had to do what I had to do, and all that's meant to be will be. and let's not forget his enthusiasm. I just hope he doesn't keep wasting your time.  because you deserve better.

living/dreaming

Sometimes I wonder if we should actually treat the past as if it were nothing more than a dream.  The things we experienced which we cannot touch, cannot prove, cannot continue to have.  all dreams. nothing more than the fabric of our minds.  I had a dream last night, in two parts, where two of my best friends (one in each segment) slept with my ex-boyfriend John.  and of course they had a great time.  and I was so jealous.  and I woke up jealous.  very jealous, in fact, and mad at my friends, and still working out in my head why it made me so mad, and how was I going to deal with this betrayal.  I can still hear the conversation, the argument, the different sides.  But it never happened.  and never will happen.  probably. Who knows.  

...and then I did NOT dream that while driving, I saw my more recent ex driving in his car, twice, in the past three weeks, and we made eye contact, or rather, exchanged gaping stares, but had no further communication.  No smiling, no waving, no nodding, no texting.  Nothing. Did we ever date?  Were we ever in love?  Am I still in love with him now?  Did I do something to offend him and forget? What's the point? It might as well have been a dream that he was ever in my life.  I dreamt up a boyfriend. a jewish boyfriend. a very high maintenance jewish boyfriend. a boyfriend's family.  a boyfriend's annoying roommate.  The emotional life I lead is so very similar to that feeling right after a dream.  When you're still positive it really happened, clinging to the dream that is so desperately trying to escape the walls of your mind. 

I'm not so positive anymore.  

Maybe this is the key to letting go of the past.  Despite searching high and low, I've never been able to grasp quite exactly how to do it.  Maybe this is it. To accept that it's not happening anymore, and so since it's not in the present, it is nothing more than a dream.  A nightmare, a fantasy, a group of biased memories.  I cling to the facts, to the photos, to the words.  But really it's nothing more than a dream.  We accept that dreams end. We let them go.  Crazy crazy dreams.  They end and we don't long for them to return.  Some of them do.  We don't expect it. We don't wait for it. What more is the past than a dream? Maybe Calderon was right about life.  The only thing real is the present moment, constantly fleeting, constantly out of our control.  Life, the group of moments and memories and experiences that make up life, is no different than a dream.  A dream we can no longer touch.  no longer hold.  What a mindfuck.

Change

Who gets sick in May? A good time to reflect, I suppose.  I'm hoping this sinus infection will be a little different, though. and by different I mean shorter because I'm eating all kinds of healthy food and taking a shit ton of vitamins everyday.  Something like thirty capsules a day! Crazy, right? Yes, but it's all part of the lifestyle upgrade I'm trying to make. Eating nutritious food has been a great journey so far - I'm starting to prefer these foods to my previous favorite category of bread and/or sweets. and I'm loving all kinds of new superfoods I had never noticed before, like quinoa, sardines, soy omega-3 mayonnaise, flax crackers, dried cranberries, superdark chocolate, red onions, garlic, amaranth, gluten free brown rice cereal, all kinds of stuff.  and my stomach doesn't hurt.  and I'm so ready for swimsuit season! 

Another topic I've thought a lot about lately is makeup, and the way I use it as a crutch.  I love makeup the same way I love drawing and painting, but when it comes to my face, I don't feel pretty without it.  That's wrong!  That's so wrong ladies! Men don't wear makeup, and they're still pretty, and I believe that I should still look and feel attractive and feminine without always relying on mascara and concealer.  So for this month I'm not wearing makeup.  The only two exceptions are 1) if I'm performing onstage and 2) if I'm going to some event or occasion in the evening.  Hopefully I'll get a little sun on my face, too.  Too much SPF may be contributing to my ghostlike complexion.  I like looking at my reflection in windows and accepting the new look.  the real look.  All too often in my life, my self acceptance is conditional.  I like myself when I feel pretty, when I succeed, when I do something very well.  Conversely, I dislike myself when I feel I have demonstrated weakness, made a mistake, or failed.  and it shows in my relationships with other people, too.  After all, the way we love ourselves is the way we love (or hate) others.  So it starts here, with me.  I want to accept and love myself at all times, especially when I am down, like now. and especially when I am stripped of all my devices, when my flaws are exposed. If I ever want anyone else to love me for me, I have to do it first.   

On a related note, I love to shop.  I have a great sense of style, and I love to show it off and use it as a creative outlet.  I have more than enough dresses, outfits, shoes, jewelry, and yet my desire for more never fades.  This red flag I have chosen to ignore long enough.  Can I change?  Maybe not.  Can I try? Yes. Wholeheartedly trying, taking the hard road, challenging oneself and going to the places which might be scary and difficult, even if you come out not all that different, this is what separates people into two groups.  I want to be part of the group hiking uphill towards higher ground.  I want to be part of the group actively invested in discovering the full potential which lies within.  It's hard to leave the comfortable walls I've been living in, but I can't stay.  The quest for the trendiest wardrobe is instrumental, never ending, and it never fills that void.  the void that asks you to shop in the first place.  "if I just had this shirt, this perfect dress, these cute shoes, then..." then... what? then I would satisfy the urge until five minutes later when another dress catches my eye.  This is not the way to live.  This is not where my money should go.  This is me running away from loneliness.  Trying to smother the fear causing the void.  The fear that I'm unlovable.  The fear that I will remain alone. Buying things is the way to not confront the real issue.  to not sit in the hard place.  The hard place will not go away.  Instead it just eventually takes more and more to run from it.  So one small step for me is to rope in my shopping habits.  There are some really cute little dresses at Club Monaco and Express, and I want one. or two. and I want to wear one at my cabaret this Wednesday just so that it's clear that I'm really good looking, and Alan clearly should not have left me, it's his loss, and I am fine alone, better off even, and I am confident.  None of these things are true feelings for me right now.  The dress won't change that.  The harder thing to do is to sit with these feelings of self doubt, loneliness, anger, regret. and love and accept myself as I'm experiencing the gloom. and not buy the new dress.  

The Right Love...

A poem.  a waltz.  a rough draft.

The man that I love

well... he's more of a boy

threw me away

like a small plastic toy

A love I had thought to be mutual

and deep. and true. and unusual.

...

And so here am I

just a sad empty shell

wishing both that he loved me

and that he'd go to hell

Wond'ring... will I ever find new love?

Could it really be better than you, love?

And everyone tells me

the answer is YES!

he's selfish he's not good enough

he's ...I digress.

My point was, er is, that I'm grieving

But I'm living and still I'm believing

that real love, the right love, will stay. 

Somewhere, somehow and some way, 

my real love, the right love, will stay.

To blog.

So no more facebook here.  No more myspace.  I understand the advantages.  I understand the appeal.  I had to leave.  and so a month goes by, and I think, "I miss sharing my happenings and thoughts online." But I don't miss the online gossip.  The constant "happenings" of my kind-of-but-not-in-real-life "friends." So welcome to my blog.  I think I've entered into a new chapter of my life, and I'd like to look back on it in text someday, and remember that I got through this tough time of self-discovery and instability, and hopefully I'll be better.  stronger.  otherwise what's the point of life, right?  Here we go...