Wow! I'm repetitive

Just perusing my old posts and how many times have I said the same thing over and over. How many times in life have I done the same thing?
Isn't that the definition of crazy: repeating the same action over and over again and expecting different results?
I do it in life. Over and over again. I'm going to .
I'm going to work out. I'm going clean my closet, my room, my car. I'm going to keep my room clean, the kitchen clean, the living room tidy, my mind tidy. And on and on.
Most people probably do this. Difference is they aren't idle repititions for me. I truly mean them. Again and again. And the shame and guilt - Whoa! Nelly! I should be Jewish or Catholic or whichever group rends their clothing and cuts their hair and beats themselves with ouchy whip-things.
well.
I have been to the gym starting on Tuesday and every day following.
I haven't cleaned my room. I haven't even vacuumed the living room. But perhaps we can only do one thing at a time until it sticks - and then we can start on the next new project.
And no fair saying that as a whole, I'm a project. It's true, just no fair saying.

Shame and atonement

Things that I wish I could take back or do over. True regrets. These things, for me, are generally not those things I didn't do or mistakes I made in my life. They are the impact I have on others' lives. That is: It is my behavior that generally brings true shame - but behavior that effects someone else's life. A harsh word, a negative jibe that has hurt someone else, effected their behavior or self esteem. I continue to live my life fine but those others are left to live with the ruins and live in the ashes.
Don't get me wrong - I don't think that I have that much power. And any one can take a criticism or a slam and just ignore it (given enough talent, willpower or bad hearing). What's the saying? No one can make you feel bad about yourself.. you do that on your own. ?
What I'm writing about here is my truly awful behavior. Apparently, just last weekend I told my rm, "You're so stupid!" or something of the kind. I didn't even know I said it. I don't remember saying it. But it sounds very much like me. Horrible. Just terrible. I am ashamed.

My bff had a boyfriend who was nothing but kind and sweet to me. And for awhile, I attempted to be friends with him. But my jealousy and my childishness won over. And I was abominable to him. Dictionary.com shows the meaning to be: Unequivocally detestable; loathsome. That was me. I don't even remember exactly the things I did to him. What I do remember is what bff told me I did/said to him. It made me cry.

How does one go about changing what one doesn't even know one does? It's like it is unconscious. I must try to be more conscious. I must think before I speak. Right. Well, I will certainly try. I don't wanna be cruel. And I don't want to be ashamed of myself.
We shouldn't have to live with regrets. We should live with robustness and with appetite. We should be grateful and happy. And treat everyone with the respect they deserve. I should remember that those that love me love me for a reason. And never, ever make them question that or feel hurt because I did an unthinking thing.

Feelin' good in the neighborhood

Actually, I'm not in my neighborhood. I'm at the office. "HA!" you say, "You're a liar because you don't even have a job!" Well poo to you! Me mum called while I was working out (hehe 3 days in a row) and asked if I would come to the office for her. She fell 2 days ago and is too sore. (or depressed.) In reality, she's probably both.
I guess she is going to go for the franchise. That's ok. I had been worried about a couple of things - here's just a taste:
1) She doesn't always follow through. Is inconsistent and downright fibs when you call her on something that she's fallen short on.
2) I felt like my life was being decided for me. I'm going back to school. I'm doing what she wants. I bought a house because that's what she wanted.
3) Sierra Vista? Look it up. Shit hole in the middle of Nowhere, AZ.
4) Worse - I'll probably be stuck in Douglas. Mexican border, I don't speak Spanish and it is a totally low income, run down town. Actually, I haven't been there in a while, so perhaps I need to give it another try.
5) Even during off season, I'll have to have the place open 1 day a week. Humph - if there are 3, I'll have to be working in the southern part of the state for 3 days a week.
So here're my new (positive mantra) thoughts.
3 days a week working? That's 4 days off. That's not a bad life.
Spanish. I've always wanted to learn another language. And I've tried Spanish-took it in school. This time I'll have plenty of practice and a good motivator for sticking with it.
Sierra Vista isn't actually a shithole. It is quite nice and is growing. It just has NOOO nightlife. But during the season, I'll be too tired to go out and during off season, I can go into the city or travel up to Tucson with B for great friends and lovely nightlife.
Again, if I really hate it, I can sell the franchises- and it really isn't a bad life. Working 3 1/2 months a year (like a demon) but then only 1 or two days a week for the remainder. Piece of cake. If I can pay my bills, I've got a fab life in the making.
I haven't thought of a positive spin on number 1 yet. I just hope she follows through. She does really well during the season, so perhaps if I'm doing everything else - I'll have no worries.

Satisfied --- (for the moment)

I began my meal plan again. And I worked out. 2 days in a row. I'm exhausted. I need a life.

I got to eat all of the potatoes I wanted. They were good. Not as good as yesterday, when I got to eat all the potatoes I wanted (also) but still good.
For those of you worried about my nutrition - don't be. I also had broccolli and chicken boob and it was all good.
Roommate is at her boyfriends. Yes, she still has a boyfriend. Isn't that nice? Well, actually, it is. Good for her. I hope he is - good for her, that is.

Gawd - dammit it's 2006

Ok. So here I am. And it is 2006. And I've spent the better part of the last hour looking for this damn blog because it's been soo long that i couldn't remember my stupid logon or my password, and I figured that they (the lovely blogspot people) had just deleted it after so much misuse. So I created another site. blah blah. and then it hit me.. how to do it and then it showed me my stupid logon.
humph.
I like the name of my other blog. i was really looking for something to show that I could find the courage and fortitude within myself to make these great changes that i really want to make in myself.
I like to show in this blog just how uncomfortable I am in my own skin. And it's true. I'm extremely uncomfortable.
I also learned - I believe that perhaps I was one of the first to use the ending -Ness. like, uncomfortable - ness. I'm hungry-ness. etc. (MY personal favorite: I have to Pee-ness. HA!) But every other mo fo out there now uses Uncomfortableness like it's a real word. It isn't.
Please ! to those of you out there. BUY a DICTIONARY. Or go to Thesaurus.com. Very simple.

uncomfortable and holding

Why would I be in deep like with someone nothing is ever going to happen with?

Why would I do that to myself? And why, oh why, would I hope against hope that someday…

And HOPE is a killer. Always does me in. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been annihilated by the merest glimmer of it. It’s that potent, that powerful.

I was thinking today, in the shower (or out of it, I’m not sure), that it would never work between us. I’d be my mother, not really understanding that connection he has with his family and being jealous of it. I didn’t used to be jealous of it. Now, it seems, I have a slight annoyance – could it be that I just want to spend all my time with him and want his undivided attention? Surely not.

And then I try to stay away: to avoid him as I do his gaze. But unlike his gaze, from which I hide away from, and never meet directly, mostly from cowardice and self-preservation, knowing that I will surely drown in his eyes and disappear forever, never to be myself again, I cannot stay away from him. I enjoy his company. I want to be with him. I want to hear him talk. I love to see (out of the corner of my eye) how attentively he listens and pays attention to me and what I say. I am completely surprised by his smile and how well he seems to know me. And as I write this, I realize that I am in love.

And I have no hope. Really. I do not even dare to hope for any outcome that could be, in any way, satisfying. Really. What could I hope for? I do not hope for kisses or sex or anything physical. Wow, am I messed up. Statement of fact.

Should I tell him?
This question is killing me. I begin to think that it is all about me – my need to obsess. And that possibility is soo possible, that I cannot discard it.

Different

I need to be different.

I cannot seem to be the person I want to be.

Who is it that I want to be? Well, just a better version of me, I guess.

I just had a new little spat with rm. So dumb. And when I say, “just,” I mean yesterday. Oh, well. I thought that I was the one who was wronged, and then I thought better of it. But I was still annoyed. Annoyed because I am a jackass? Perhaps. But there I was calling and leaving a message on rm’s cell phone. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

So the message? The message was about this book I was standing in front of, horrible though it was, that was completely stupid. The death of Christmas - how the liberals were destroying the Sacred Christian holiday.

I just need to be different. better. more.
and sooo much less.

Full of...

Realizing that you’re full of *&#@ is a difficult thing, I think.

And here I am with this realization.

So, I was playing in a 2-ton car driving down the road and trying to catch up to someone I’d been flirting with and, more importantly, had been flirting with me. And I cut said person off. Smiled and waived. As he laid on the horn. Pissed. Upset. Me: no big deal – grain of sand, humor, all good. Him: pissed, life in danger, horrible wreck, pain, anger. Me: whoops! Sorry. And now me: shame. Feel I must apologize again. And to everyone. Very sad. Realize not toy, very chastened. Very sorry. Never want to see said person again, nor anyone from work again. Parking and hiding in shame.

I’m hungry. Why???? Why? Perhaps drink more water. Maybe better? Whatcha think?

I still don’t know why I overeat. I don’t know what I’m trying to stuff down. I know that – as I write this blog today and everyday – I feel uncomfortable. I am almost always just a little bit uneasy. Not really comfortable in my own skin. Never quite accepting of myself and, therefore, others. Why is that?

Been working today! Hurray me! Ugh. Don’t know if I should drop my accounting class. Feel like a failure – but not really. Just being stubborn. Didn’t know I had this stubborn streak in me. Kinda odd. Granny had it. Sister has it. Mother has it. And now me? Since when?

Something that rhymes with Puck! Starting with an F!!!!!!! If I drop the class, and want to take it next semester – the same jerk is teaching it.. Eff that poo.
Fuck!!!

Dreams.

The sleeping kind.

I recently had a dream in which, now bear with me because I know that dreams are never interesting to people that did not experience them, unless of course you are receiving a hundred plus dollars an hour to be interested in them, I was doing ordinary things at home. Friends were over. And the object of my (secret) affection, so secret, in fact that most of the time I keep it hidden from myself, came up behind me and simply – not quite held me, but was just there. Like sitting at the kitchen table looking on the Internet for a movie and he put his hand upon mine to help guide the mouse. And I knew what it meant. And so did others – who became curious and obvious. At which point, I mouthed “SHUT UP.” And I was very happy. Very, very happy. The ordinary-ness of the day continued but with extra nice bits—like trying to sneak a moment when we were alone together. Feeling his presence behind me and knowing for certain it meant he cared too. I could feel the blossoming of my heart – with hope, with love, with possibilities.

I awoke from said dream with a lovely feeling. And then, I knew what it meant: that very day, I was supposed to go meet someone, a date someone. I would not be interested in this someone as I had been hoping against hope for my “friend” to return my feelings. That I was again mired in this hope. I was depressed. I had waited so long for him. I had to go have this “date” and attempt to like someone I probably wouldn’t, or couldn’t, like. I went and took a shower, just so I could be alone to cry. And cry I did. I had never shed a tear over my friend. He had never given me cause to. He is very gentle and kind (and obtuse) and sweet and polite and intuitive, but never malicious or mean.

I began to brood. I had waited so long. Sometimes I would feel that I had little signals that maybe he liked me too. But it was always too much to hope for, but maybe it was ok to hope. I had waited so long that I had told myself to stop waiting: it wasn’t going to happen. I then began to think that maybe he was waiting for me too. And it became clear: he was waiting for me! I had to get my S@%* (stuff) together, and quickly, because he’d been waiting a long time, too.

I felt good. I worked out (twice). I dreaded going out with my “date” and hoped something would happen to make it unnecessary to go – and put off doing homework. I made a plan of how I was going to stick to my meal plan and work out.

Even felt good – and excited on Monday at work. Talked to co-workers about feelings and dream. Half way through Monday, knew it was completely stupid.

Been trying to get the feeling back – hold on to it. Maybe it wasn’t stupid.. but the certainty of it is gone. Been trying to hold on to hope.

The Second Sleeping example.

Author’s Note: How very disappointing. Trying to dig to feel and to write this piece, I’ve lost the specifics of the lovely dream I had last night. Oh, well. I know that I dreamed of him again. It was sweet. Not as clear (even when I could remember). But still very sweet and very nice.

Does your subconscious really tell you what you need? Does it provide insight to solve your problems? Does it just show you what you wish for? I don’t think it predicts the future.

The Visions we have for ourselves.

The future and what it holds: why do I want to be slender and healthy and driving a convertible Porsche and living in a fairly big house with marble floors that are spotless and manicured lawns? Who do I see there with me?

See, I think what I’ve been dreaming is crap. I think it’s all about me and what I’ve been fixating on. I think it’s about my need to fixate. When I call him… it doesn’t feel at all like it does in my head.
True. I haven’t been making all these scenarios and possible clues up – but perhaps I am reading too much into, well, nothing. A friendly remark. A kindly smile.

So what do I want for myself? What vision do I hold for my future? And How Do I Get There?

I want to be strong.
I want to be slender and healthy.
I want love. As a subheading to love, I want a partnership. I want to find my other half.
I want to pay my bills and have leftovers.
I want to travel.
I want to stay put and not have to drive anywhere.
I want to be able to run away.
I want to be able to stand and fight.
I want to kick ass.
I want to drive fast and hard and wind up somewhere beautiful.
I want to walk out my front door, take a leisurely walk and find myself at the ocean.
I want to live in the desert.
I want to surround myself in sunlight.
I want to live where my nearest neighbor is a mile away.
I want to live in a high-rise in a big city.
I want love.
I want acceptance.
I want to be important.
To someone special
To the world
I want love. – I want to be wanted – I want to be desired. – I want to desire. – I want love.

I know that I am full of crap. I cannot keep a moment - a thought, an idea - and continue on with it. I cannot make it tangible. I am not one of those "successful" types - the ones who work and work and reach goals. I can't even keep my mind from changing like the ticking of a clock. Each tick leads to a different tock that keeps me going around the face of the clock: in circles - never changing, always just going around and around.