I am restless again.

Feeling the need to run for a while, to turn my back on things here and do something else. A vacation, an adventure. Whatever. Sometimes I don’t want to be in my own skin for a little while.

I feel like it could be the negative energy swirling around my office. One of my coworkers is having marriage troubles, and this person often brings the negativity to work. Not in the things that she says, no. She never complains about the problems. But you can almost feel the tension around her, feel it infecting everything she does. Since I tend to feed off of people’s energy in general, this means that lately, coming to work has been slightly unpleasant.

Also, I am slightly put out that now I work all weekend. I will be missing most of the Decatur Book Festival as well as Dragon*Con. Lame, very lame.

• Dead Witch Walking – Kim Harrison
• To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
• A Storm of Swords - George R. R. Martin
• Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll
• Three Cups of Tea – Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin

That’s right. I finished five books this month. And one of them was over a thousand pages. WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Just kidding. Alice in Wonderland was just as messed up and nonsensical as I remembered. Sometimes I just can’t get into books that are that weird. My brain doesn’t like to process things like that. Maybe this stems from how boring I am, or that my brain is too linear. Who knows. A good book, but weird even still.

And I started Three Cups of Tea for this book group that a gym friend invited me to be a part of. Our first meeting is September 13, and I’m nervous. Nobody ever wants to form these book clubs with me (or writing clubs, or any other clubs), so I’m planning on saying one or two witty or poignant things (if I can think of them) and then keeping quiet. That way, they won’t think I’m weird, but I’ll have contributed something so they’ll invite me back.

I’ve also been thinking of suggestions to make as far as what book to read for next month. The first two that I saw my friend reading, I had also read as well: The Kite Runner and The Life of Pi. So I think I see the kind of literature these people like to read. What shall I suggest? The Lovely Bones? The Time Traveler’s Wife? She’s Come Undone? Something along those lines?

And anyway, Three Cups of Tea was a phenomenal, inspiring book. It’s incredible that one person could bring about so much change. Read it! You can borrow it from me if I know you and want to read it!

What shall it be for September then? I have the entire Eragon series to read. I’ve started Jane Eyre and am receiving some kind of surprise in the mail from someone that will help with my reading list, but after that? I still have to read A Feast for Crows…… but there’s also the full Kim Harrison series…

Choices, choices!

Last night in my dream, I burst out of school to be greeted by the cold. I can see my breath coming out in short clouds of vapor. My brothers and I begin the long trek out to the shore, padding through the snow and avoiding hidden patches of ice.

At some point I look up and realize that there are cold, tall mountains that stand out starkly against the blue sky. Next to them, one half of the range has been blasted and carved down to be faces, snow-capped, like the mountains. I try to take a picture of all of these, but somehow the earth seems to rotate in the opposite direction. Even as I crane up and over the things in my way–the trees, some people walking back and forth, the power lines–the mountains seem to recede furhter into the horizon.

Disappointed, I hop down and continue my trek to the beach, where my parents are vacationing for the day. As we draw nearer to the ocean, the snow begins to turn into something more akin to sand, light and fluffy.

There are wooden bunkers lining the path now. They are constructed from logs with long slits in between each one, and while they are a fairly decent shelter from the sun, they are not sheltered from the wind and water.

I can hear the ocean as the waves crash down on shore. The tide is coming in. Looking out through the holes in the bunker, I can see the waves curling over themselves and smashing down onto shore. The water is coming closer; it leaks into the cracks in the walls and floods the bunker. Bracing myself, I wait for the shock of the icy water, but it never comes. I’m all right for now.

Look, says my step mom. She puts her arm through the hole in the wall and points out at the sea. There’s a man out there.

He is caught in the tide. He struggles to stay on his board, but we watch as the water drags him under, tumbles him around like a doll and then throws him up on shore. Each time, he manages to regain consciousness enough to drag himself forward a little on the sand, but each time the encroaching waves catch his board and drags him back under. It’s exhausting even watching him, and after the third time he is dragged back in, I can’t stand it anymore.

Vaulting out of the shelter, I run to him the next time he is flung ashore. He’s face down and starting to stir, but the strength has gone out of him.

I pick up his board before the water gets to it. Even though the water pools up around and underneath him, he is able to stand and together we stagger into a secluded area and he falls down. Thank you, he says, for saving me. Despite the slightly blue tinge to his skin and the way his hair is crusted over with sand and salt and frozen from the cold, he is attractive, half-naked, and the temptation is high. He’s giving me that longing look people get when they’re about to take you.

And then I realize that he looks horribly familiar. That he’s one of my ex’s friends, and that this is wrong, all wrong. I’m repulsed and horrified and absolutely baffled. I back away. No, I say, I can’t. You’re welcome, but I need to go, and I run out of there as fast as I can.

My brain ruins everything.

I’ve been feeling really dumb the last few days.

Okay, maybe not dumb so much as insecure. It seems like everybody around me (which, most of the time, is a pretty fair statement) has a higher degree.  Should I go back to school? I ask myself nearly every day now. I always answer the same thing: yes, of course. The sooner the better.

But another equally loud voice says back, with the tone and disgust of Draco Malfoy, just how are you supposed to do that? and more correctly, just what the hell are you going to study?

And the resounding answer to this question is… I have no idea. For now I feel stuck. With nothing to say, no stories boiling in the back of my brain anymore, I don’t feel right about going to school and wasting my time on a creative writing degree. I’d manage to scrape by, I’m sure, but I’d feel like I’d cheated someone out of a spot they deserved.

Part of me wonders how many days, weeks, months it will take me to finally pluck up the courage to sit down every night and write and write until I produce something. To cull the discipline inside me again to produce fiction that I haven’t already written down somewhere, to find something new. With NaNo about … seventy days away (YIKES), it would be nice if I could do this soon.

And I wonder how long I will continue to sit idly by, while the rest of you move on to higher education. I feel peer pressured into doing something. This may not be a bad thing, though. I’d been telling myself that it’s the small things I’m after, the tiny experiences that make up the whole. That I’d always be able to return to those small things if I ever felt like my life wasn’t going right. To appreciate them would be the way to return to happiness.

And so somehow, ironically, marking the holes in the walls and measuring with the level make me feel a little smarter. Even though I have to start over once the shelf is actually in place because the little air bubble in the dandelion yellow liquid in the level began drifting to the left, and thus having drilled three gigantic, gaping holes about an inch above where the shelf actually ended up, I still feel accomplished. Despite the mahogany scuffs on the primer, despite the pile of white dust that drifted off onto my clothes and the floor.  A task that had seemed so murky before is suddenly simple and almost easy. Much less of a hassle than I thought it would be after I acquired the right tools and just went ahead and did it.

It’s like I keep telling one of my friends. Once you start really living for yourself, you’ll be amazed at all that you do not know. But even more incredible is that your proverbial plate–the one loaded with things to do every day, with the pressures of work and keeping a social life, bills, and burdens–it just keeps getting larger and larger. Pretty soon the simple days of grade school seem like cakewalks, even though at the time you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore or you’d explode. I try to tell myself this sometimes too, but I don’t always listen.

So for tonight, I’m happy with knowing how to put an anchor in the wall. It’s a small something, but it makes me feel capable. Like if I can figure out how to correctly install this thing into some drywall without catching the house on fire, destroying the entire wall, or cutting off a finger, maybe I really can do anything.

I have started this entry over at least ten times so far, in my head, on paper, and here.

Over the last few years, increasingly, I have come to understand, at least for the moment, why I am here.

This is ironic, because I’ve felt for a very long time that I’ve always been searching for purpose, trying to derive meaning and some direction out of what I’ve been given. At the same time, I know I’ve wasted plenty of these gifts and a hell of a lot of time.

One would think I’d jump at the opportunity to do something right, then, or feel grateful for the insight. But the fact of the matter is, I haven’t jumped.

I spend a lot of time waffling between denial and resentment, thinking useless things like, why do I have to do this? And this is trivial when compared with the grand scheme of things. And I also struggle with the question of whether this calling, or purpose, or duty, whichever you’d like, really is just me grasping at straws and trying to avoid something else. Like finding my own true purpose. Is it that I’m just avoiding the real work of being a published, successful writer by holding onto this one thing?

But no. My gut tells me that I won’t be whole and healed, ever, unless I do this, even if I invest in years of therapy and possibly even medication. Even then I feel there would be times when I’d just feel like parts were missing, essential parts of me and this sense of being unfinished with the parts of myself I’ve tucked away. My life will never be my own until I can reconcile these things. I will never be able to dream my own dreams, and I will continue to write the same story over and over until this is done.

To start, I need these things: some documents. The trust and support of my family. Some money. Patience.

Everything on this list is within my grasp, except the support of my family, specifically my father. I don’t think he would want to be a part of this, and I don’t think he would understand. And, most importantly of all, I don’t think he and I are ready for a discussion like this.

Because of these things, and because I’m afraid, I don’t know how I can start. I wait for a sign to tell me that I’m ready, keep reaching inward and asking myself if I am ready. But I haven’t found that yet.

Things to get:

• Mothership Zeta, the newest Fallout 3 expansion. While I hear it’s not that great, and even though I have not yet finished Broken Steel or Point Lookout… I must have it!
• a tv. And soon.
• True Blood, season 2. When it comes out. But if I can manage to watch it via On Demand at someone’s house, that’ll work too.
• Clan of the Cave Bear, which I would like to read next to help fulfill the September reading list stuff.
• a new camera. Mine is on its way out.
• a few days off, so I can go drive somewhere awesome and take some me-time away from things here.

Tidbits:

• Nicholas Hooper is earning my respect. He most recently scored Half-Blood Prince, and while I didn’t find anything very memorable about his score from Order of the Phoenix, it appears he’s grown and taken some cues from John Williams. I positively adore some of the tracks from the latest Harry Potter film, including “When Ginny Kissed Harry” and “Ron’s Victory.” “Harry and Hermione” is another good one (links to these later).
   
• District 9 is a phenomenal film. It was poignant and dramatic, touching and funny in all the right places for me. It left a few unanswered questions, but I left the theater yesterday with my imagination buzzing well into the night. I definitely recommend seeing it, for any of you out there looking for something good to watch.
   
• I just bought a pair of Asics for class. They were $89 and with tax turned out to be around $95. I wore them to class tonight but I can’t quite tell yet if they’re good. My feet felt cramped, but that could have been because I tied them too tightly, and because they weren’t broken in yet.
   
• Work went well for Friday and Saturday, but my GCC average dropped to 50% on Sunday. This makes me angry–I shouldn’t have to worry about this bullshit like I do, but now my second job has made things so stressful I dread having to go. I’m both aggressive and nervous whenever I stand up there to ring people. Luckily I only work this coming Thursday, and then don’t work again until the next Friday. Free weekend for me!
   
• This morning I woke myself up. This isn’t unusual, except that I should have woken up with  my alarm, at 6 AM.  Instead, probably right around 6, I woke up with my feet hanging off the bed. The light from the sliding door was also in the wrong spot, and I thought maybe I was at home, or perhaps at a friend’s house. Then I realized I was actually sleeping sideways (somehow), and so I adjusted and fell back asleep.

  After a strange dream about running a race (details I remember are the multicolored uniforms under the sun shining like candy, the vastness of the stadium we gathered in, the sheer number of participants in this race, and the overwhelming deflation of knowing that I didn’t have, and never would have, my father’s support for the race, even though he was right there), I decided I would wake up.

  I felt I’d been asleep for a very long time, and when I checked the clock it said 7:55. SHIT, I thought, because today’s only Tuesday and so I have to work. I began to scramble to get ready, sacrificing breakfast for being dressed and groomed (somewhat), until I checked my phone and realized it was only 7:00 on the dot. My clock had stopped the night before around 7:50 PM and I had not noticed.
   

• They’ve finally let me order the parts to fix my coworker’s computer. Basically, her hard drive failed, and there is no other way to fix it other than getting a new one. Nobody wants to send it out for repair (because they will charge exhorbitant fees), and nobody seemed to want to fix it themselves. So I will do it, because I’ve taken apart my own laptop to clean it out, as well as my own tower at home. I am not all that intimidated by computer parts. Hopefully this makes me less expendable. Also, I’m way more excited about getting to fix the laptop than I should be. It’s not even mine.
   
• I really want to go back to school, but I don’t know what to study or if I can even finance it right now. Honestly, and I feel a little odd about admitting this, I would love to go back for a degree in computer…something… (don’t know if I want web design or something else), but I can’t shake the fear that I will have to start all over as an undergrad and get another bachelor’s.  I don’t think a master’s program will let me switch gears completely. So for now, I will keep thinking and planning.

• Dead Witch Walking – Kim Harrison
• To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
• A Storm of Swords - George R. R. Martin
• Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll

I’d like to finish another book or two this month, but right now I’m doubting my abilities. I suppose it’s a matter of priority though. I’m sure I could finish Alice in Wonderland at the end of this weekend (it’s a mere 131 pages), but what about in the remaining two weeks of August? What should I attempt?

Not another GRRM, surely. The last one in my possession, A Feast For Crows, is still a robust 800 pages or so. Even if I had all weekend free and no work next week, I doubt if I could finish that much.

So that leaves me with starting what..? Another Kim Harrison book? One of the Eragon novels my coworker lent me (she lent me the entire series)? The Bible Salesman, or Saturday, or The Shipping News? A Dickens novel?

We’re having a small reading list at work, based off of the BBC’s Big Read, which we stumbled upon after talking about school curriculum and what we studied in college. Three of us there are ex-English majors, and so we always trade books back and forth and love to talk about writing and creative things.

When all was said and done, the eldest of us had read 49 out of the 100 books,  I had read 29 out of the 100, and then my other coworker had read 25.  We haven’t really set a firm date, although I am assuming this is for the end of the year, and we haven’t really set firm judging standards, except perhaps how many each of us can knock out by then.

So here is my list for August. I have put other books on there as well because I need to stay sane somehow, and if I read only classics, I’m not sure that I can.

• Dead Witch Walking – Kim Harrison
• To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
• A Storm of Swords - George R. R. Martin
• Alice in Wonderland – Lewis Carroll

I think that should do it for the month, considering that Martin’s book is just about 1000 pages.  I’m also having difficulty this month in making myself set aside time to read. Frankly, I’ve been preoccupied with time-wasters like The Sims 3. And Fallout 3 has released a new expansion (which I haven’t even acquired yet!).

But when I’m not reading or indulging in these games, I’m out by the pool, absorbing what’s left of summer or taking new classes. The Midtown LA Fitness just closed, scattering its members to the surrounding city gyms–Ansley, Atlantic Station, and Toco Hills. This has also meant I’ve had to find alternatives to Julie’s class, which I will not be able to attend this coming week.

Instead, I took Body Works with a sub and couldn’t walk Friday as a result. And Saturday, despite the soreness, I tried out cardio kickboxing. Today I am suffering as well, but it’s a good kind of suffering.

Well, sometimes I feel stretched too thin. Like there isn’t enough time in the day to do what I want to and feel fulfilled, but also do what I need to so that I can get by. This month was ridiculous in terms of bills, and the next few paychecks can’t come soon enough. That, and whenever I go visit certain family members up north, they just drag up all this baggage that I’ve been successful in putting away up until now. I forget that the well of resentment and hurt runs fairly deep when it comes to dealing with things in the past, but I shouldn’t. I should face it.

Later, I tell myself, when I have some time on a rainy day.

Isn’t it like that for all of us? We put away our issues until it’s convenient, for some future date that may not even exist.

Well, here’s to another new week. We’re already almost halfway through the month. It’s incredible, how time passes. This time last year I was settling into a new house, learning new roads and patterns of living. Dragon*Con was soon, and I attended more weekend events as I came out of my shell. Hopefully the coming days will bring more adventures as well.

I don’t want to bore you with pointless tripe.

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