re-read

from the time that i could construct sentences, i owned a work book of sorts. once i realized that i could secretly keep the thoughts that i had written down away from the world, my work books graduated to bound books with locks. to this day, including this blog, i have a collection of my thoughts, my daily life, my revenge, my loves and lusts. the advantage to being able to laugh at yourself is that you can go back in time ... your time.
so today, i went back. i went back to remind myself of why i am leaving. of why i fell in and out of love. and to find a way to make this hole in my chest go away. i'm wavering between the choices i made. i'm asking myself, "are you sure?" i feel sad. and fuck off to anyone that wants to take that away from me. i don't think it matters who, or which one of us instigated the "break up" talk, i can still feel sad, i'm losing here too.
at this point everything feels surreal. there's closeness between us that is making me doubt all of what i was feeling and experiencing. and then, here lies the proof. here in my own words, my own feelings, everything is brought back to reality when i read them. i can hear it in him now, i see it in his eyes. when he speaks about the separation, he seems at peace. at least we weren't alone on this ... we were actually together on this, we just didn't know it, we couldn't talk about it. how do you admit to your partner, "i failed you".
i know it's all formalities, but when people get married they share vows. our vows never had the words "til death do us part" - we shared, "no barriers, no limits and forever".
who the fuck was i kidding?

anonymous

there are only a few of you that actually read the going ons in my world, my mind, my heart. others know the ramblings, the drunkness, the stonedness, the silliness, and there are the others that see me on a daily and know nothing of what happens in the parameters of my body, my full, head to toes body. so, i thought, why then should it even matter if i use this anymore, maybe i could, or would create a new place for me to type my words into. i thought more and concluded that i should stay put and keep my thoughts here. you know where they are, you know how to read them, and this is how i will continue, whether you are here or not.

i have no secrets, so the things i write will be candid, honest, heavy and sometimes hurtful, but i'm working shit out, i'm working it out. as people, we are conditioned to "work it out", "see it through", "make things work", if you ask me this is optimism at it's cheesiest. it seems unfair almost, why can't we just talk? i don't want to come across as an asshole, but honestly, i can't help it, it's part of who i am. i say things, honest things, and i don't mean to hurt, but by keeping myself silent, i'm learning that the scars are being left for me to bear. i'm lonely. and that alone is hard to swallow.

novel

the past week has been a bit of a mini vacation for me, well with the exception of getting strep throat and waiting for results for mono. bed rest isn't so bad. having a partner that pulls through once in a while proves it's fondness and feeling like i had no responsibilities in the world is, well, foreign and inviting.

because bed rest leaves me to catch up on reading, "a movable feast" by hemingway didn't move anything for me but back to sleep. magazine subscriptions came and i leafed through, imagining my own ad in a london magazine ... it will happen. i become quite confident in the confines of my bed sheets and meds. i thought about the year so far and how much things have changed ... even with just a few words. realizations have surfaced and the truth about it has me wanting to surrender but will wait. i anxiously think about the studio and see great things for me.

i went to the studio last night, and was overwhelmed by the feeling of "this is my place". i have another address, a mailbox, keys to my space and it's mine. i felt a sudden sense of relief and gratitude towards myself, i never let myself go. i haven't stopped giving to myself because i had children. other moms would call me selfish. i lamented about that while i was in bed, swallowing it sourly and felt a little guilty.

my hand is cramping a bit, i have been drawing/sketching some things. things that i hope one day, people will be wearing. this has been on my to do list for far too long ... if my deal with the devil holds true one day, i need to get this done before i'm 50.

i also start a typography class in may - very excited about this. i want to make my own labels and tags as well, so best to have an extra skill in my pocket. i'm no one trick pony but i do work well on my own. it has only be proven a few times that i can work well with others.

the backyard reno is pretty much finished too. a new fence, new deck and planters. i enjoyed the sun out there over the weekend ... it's surprisingly quiet in the city when everything in my head is so loud.

i'm cutting my hair too ... i'm going to donate what i can to cancer. it's long and processed, and they have to take a look at it ... it might not be healthy enough. i need to shed some of these tresses ... i feel change coming along ... oh and to my rest, i am dedicating time to more of me by getting healthy. move on over tony horton, hello mitch gaylord. serious this time though. i'm even keeping a journal.


it's strange now to be writing so much when tumblr has become my exit for short spurts of thought. http://beautifulunnatural.tumblr.com/

fuck.

always a bad idea ... smoking, drinking, smoking, landing on my bed of perpetual indulgences. by the way i stole that ... from modern family.

what next?

i pick my keys up to my my new space this week. i think i'll be moving in some small stuff this weekend. checking out the itty bitty space, i want to paint, hang some shit up and get going already.
i bought a new chair that i will be re-upholstering and getting a new work table too. i bought a new judy off craigslist already and then i need a bulletin board to keep my shit together and on track. i think i want a small plushy style rug too. i figure that if i'm going to be in this space for the equivalent of a part time job, i might as well like it right?
there's one glitch in the whole scenario ... i'm dropping the name laroqcoqs, it's too long, hard to spell and it does remind me of crocs ... it's true. and i don't want to be affiliated with no plastic clog represented by a smiling croc. i won't even wear crocs to garden. but this isn't about crocs, this is about the name game.
i have been toiling around in my head for some stuff, but nothing is sticking, or more importantly it's not feeling right. maybe when i'm in the studio, something will hit me.

digging holes

everything is short lived and yes, this too shall pass. but, i'm so angry. angry at myself, angry at people, angry at my family, i just want to be angry and stay here for awhile. if i could yell right now i would but i can't. i would definitely wake up the baby, and now i'm angry that i can't yell.
fuck.
i have never been good with people. it's like in some way, something gets weird and poof they're gone. i just attributed it to time, getting older, offspring, whatever.
my immediate family are the only people that have been constant. i had one fight with my parents when i was a teenager, i left home and didn't talk to them for a week. the other time was when my sister and i got into a fight and we didn't talk for a few weeks. other than that, my family has been a constant. well, other than them, i have my kids. but shit, they're going to leave me too.
this all starts with me jumping in so quickly to having friends and being enthusiastic about meeting someone new. or talking to old friends too much and not talking at all to the present friends that i do have. and with the present friends that i do have, i'm constantly in this state of "paranoid android". "do they like me?", "why haven't we facebooked?", "why haven't they acknowledged anything i have posted?", "why haven't they replied to my email?" maybe that's it, that might be it right there ...
are my friends all cyber based and is nothing real? and when we do see each other face to face is it just because ... do they only .... arrrrgh!
and then i have friends that ask me to be part of their most special day. these are the friends that you haven't talked to in nearly 2 years but have known each other for 20. and when you do talk, you find that you have nothing in common except for the fact that you both pushed out 10 pound babies from your va.JJ's. now all you're hearing is "well, little susie is counting to 30 and she's only 6 months old, what's baby max doing?... oh he's still crawling well, buck up kiddo he'll get there!"
condescending mommy talk makes me angry.
when the baby talk is done, it's time to judge me. "well, you're tattoos, are cool, but if you don't mind stepping aside from being a bridesmaid ... the dress and pics will look awkward ... maybe you can sing ...." awkward?
what's fucking awkward is that i was asked in the first place. second place, i said YES. that's the kind of friend i am. yes, i may have probed the questioning of "should i be in this wedding, we haven't talked in years ... you have extra bridesmaids ..." lalalala but i said yes, and i was willing to wear a hideous dress. i even paid for half and have lost that money because the boutique doesn't give refunds ... but who thought i would even have be asking for a refund. and now she's mad because i won't authorize the other half of the payment on my credit card? what is this? she asked me to step aside, she was clear that i would make things look weird for her wedding pics. maybe i should have paid for it ... but i can't. wait, should i have paid for the rest of the dress?

these are the friends i keep???

what gets me, is that she is mad, facebooking her feelings and not speaking directly to me about it. i emailed her a week ago and asked to talk about it ... i got no response, just facebook status updates with her friends running their comments on her version of the story. she asked me to step aside because i didn't match the dress ...

i don't match the dress, she and all her friends are running their comments on her facebook, she's out $$$ and now i'm the asshole.

i think i need a new and better definition of friend.

i'm in.

i sign my lease on friday. i move into my small 200 sq. foot studio space on april 1st. i'll be sharing space with 3 other artists. this whole process has been less than ordinary.
i initially thought that i would see the space and fill out an application, much like renting an apartment. but when i met the shy, cute tenant supervisor coordinator, he mentioned that i needed to submit my CV and letter of intent for the space. the board would only consider professional artists and there was a list that they went by. i was a bit put off, but this is something i really wanted, dreamed about even.
i spent the weekend working on my CV and letter. i was honest and spent quite some time on it. when i had finished, i actually saw in writing, that i had accomplished a few things and i felt proud and confident submitting it to them on sunday.
i heard back from cute shy guy on monday, "the board is examining your CV and letter, we'll be back to you in a couple of days." i thought, well whatever, i tried, so i waited ... and about 2 hours later the email cam in, "the space is yours, if you are interested".
i have 2 very specific projects that i will be focusing on in my space, in my new world. i have to admit though, i feel a bit nervous. it's like i have this job, and the only person i am accountable to is me, and the only one that i can let down is me. fuck, i better be a good boss and give great benefits.
right now, i love my life.