4.10.2010
new and improved combined blog...
So, I was keeping up way too many blogs and I decided to combine them and the best way to do that was to import my two main blogs to one wordpress blog. I hope you guys will still continue to read what I write, because it really does mean a lot to me to have such great readers. My new blog address is: http://krissyranae.wordpress.com. There you will find both my writing blog, my random whatever blog, and a brand new post! Thanks guys!
3.26.2010
this is a very poorly composed paragraph...
I do not like feeling like a whiner. Here is the truth: the last few weeks have not been the best for me. I'm stressed, tired, and I am constantly on the verge of a panic attack/melt down. Yes, I know what is causing it. No, there is nothing I can do (at the moment) to fix it. It is completely possible I may go crazy before the situation resolves. I have it pretty easy compared to most. However, there are times, when I just want to give up. Life is hard. I envy my friends with little responsibility and with choices. I have very few choices. At this point, my life is pretty much set out for me. I'm a parent, I'm married, and I will probably never do any of the things I wanted to do when I was younger. Soon I will be 25. Sure, to some of you this may seem young, but to me it feels ancient. I told a friend of mine that you had to add 5 years to your age for each kid, so really I was turning 35 and therefore justified in my irritation with the thought of my next birthday. It's not that I'm not happy, it's just that well, I pictured myself in a different place when I turned 25. I suppose that is what has me so bothered. This just isn't the life I thought I would be living right now.
(P.S. Comment at your own risk. I am not in a good mood these days and I may bite.)
(P.S. Comment at your own risk. I am not in a good mood these days and I may bite.)
3.19.2010
a couple of lists...
I am:
-up too late
-feeling completely overwhelmed
-entirely too emotional
-realizing that my current issues are all a product of the first item on this list
-feeling alone
-missing people that it doesn't help to miss
I am not:
-joining a cult
-eating gummy bears
-practicing proper sentence structures
-able to come up with an awesome new story line
-bungee jumping
-dodging bullets
-swimming across the English Channel
-lobbying... for anything
-fishing for carp
Right now I want:
-cookies
-a good cry
-to snuggle up in front of a fire with a book and some tea
-a paper to write
-classes to attend
-to find meaning
-a trip to McCall
Tomorrow I want:
-warmth
-sunshine
-happy kids
-time to knit
-time to smile
-people to like the comic
I'm thinking about:
-my sister
-crunching on ice
-pancakes
-the fact that cops find my car suspicious and will follow it for miles
-my freezing cold room
-friends
-up too late
-feeling completely overwhelmed
-entirely too emotional
-realizing that my current issues are all a product of the first item on this list
-feeling alone
-missing people that it doesn't help to miss
I am not:
-joining a cult
-eating gummy bears
-practicing proper sentence structures
-able to come up with an awesome new story line
-bungee jumping
-dodging bullets
-swimming across the English Channel
-lobbying... for anything
-fishing for carp
Right now I want:
-cookies
-a good cry
-to snuggle up in front of a fire with a book and some tea
-a paper to write
-classes to attend
-to find meaning
-a trip to McCall
Tomorrow I want:
-warmth
-sunshine
-happy kids
-time to knit
-time to smile
-people to like the comic
I'm thinking about:
-my sister
-crunching on ice
-pancakes
-the fact that cops find my car suspicious and will follow it for miles
-my freezing cold room
-friends
3.16.2010
because sleep eludes me...
I'm going to go off on a nonsensical rant now. If you think you have some deep insight into what I am talking about, you are probably wrong. However, it makes me giggle when people try, so knock yourselves out!
I drive a lot at night. Sometimes I am stupid and drive too late at night because my phone turns off and I don't hear my alarm or because I am just enjoying things too much to head home. The roads in Idaho are empty at night. Some people may find that offensive, I find it reassuring. There is still at least one place in the world where people sleep; life is like it was long ago. It isn't like living in a big cit. For instance, there was always traffic in L.A. Maybe it wasn't bad, bumper-to-bumper, maddening, stop-and-go traffic, but it was traffic nonetheless. I like that my city still slumbers. I like that I live in a state where the past still thrives. Mere hours from my house there are people living on ranches, there are hermits surviving in the wilderness, and there are people who would still rather catch their dinner from the river than buy it from a fast food joint. It's different here. We have our own way of life. It is solid and good and I would not want it any other way.
Lately I've grown weary. I've noticed that the more anger I sense around me, the heavier my soul gets. It is still beyond my comprehension how people can be so hurtful to each other. It is even more beyond my comprehension how they can call each other on it without noticing that they are doing the exact same things back and forth. I don't understand hate. I've had bad things happen around me. It isn't that I live in a perfect bubble. Trust me, I wish I did. I feel pain, anger, frustration, but I don't feel the need to take it out on people around me. I know my secret hurts. I know the pain that I feel that nobody else could even imagine existing. I also know that the person that is making me angry has their own secret weight-of-the-world type pain. I try so hard to be kind and to not be hateful. It is an uphill battle, but I do try my hardest. I don't understand not trying.
Perspective is a bitch, hardcore. There is so much pain that is greater than the hurts I feel. My life is significantly more fair than that of a lot of people. Most of the stress and irritation I feel, I brought on myself. However, I still feel the need to vent it occasionally. The problem is that when perspective comes swinging at me with an iron fist, I have to pause and stop myself. It could be worse. It could always be worse. This nagging annoyance is nothing compared to the gigantic weight of grief felt by those around me.
For the last time, I am not fourteen. It has been nearly 11 years since I was. In fact, I don't even remember anything specific about being that young. That's how long ago it was. I realize that I look younger than my (almost) 25 years. I truly do not have a problem with people assuming I am in college or that I just graduated from highschool. I find nothing offensive about that at all. However, when someone looks at me and thinks "She can't even drive!" I want do punch them. I've decided that I am going to wear a whorish amount of makeup from now on. I am going to wear 7 inch heals so that I am at a more "adult" height. I am also going to go have larger breasts surgically implanted. Why you may ask? Because these are the top three reasons I hear for people thinking I am young enough to have been born in the mid 90s. "Oh! But you are just so tiny!" "I just assumed you were younger since you aren't wearing make up." "Wow, I had bigger boobs than you when I was 12!" Dear world so bombarded with media images of what is average that you can't even see my forming crows feet or the fact that my face is more mature than that of a barely pubescent child, you can bite me. I have friends with 14 year old daughters. I've seen them up close... yeah, I don't look even close to that young.
Oh, and while I'm already annoyed: writing is a job for me. It may not make me any money yet, but it is my job. Call it a hobby, and I'll probably cry. I would threaten loss of friendship, but we all know I'm not capable of carrying through on such things.
Kids are a test of patience. Patience has never been my strong suit. Every day I feel like I'm running a gauntlet. I think I need to buy a new pair of noise canceling earphones, put Eddy Izzard on loop on my iPod, and just tune out the incessant whining that I can't seem to stop my kids from doing. I love them dearly, however, I wish they had more grown up manners.
If it is sunny tomorrow, I am going to do a jig on my patio.
I bought a green tank top for St. Paddy's day, but then I realized I am probably just working in the nursery and nobody will see it because I'll wear a sweatshirt over it so that it won't matter if a kid pulls on my shirt. Oh well, at least I'll know I'm wearing a super cute and festive something under my bulky sweatshirt! :)
(fingers crossed) I am going to check out a knitting group tomorrow for a half an hour or so. I'm so scared of strangers. Well, really, I'm scared of not strangers too. In fact, we'll go ahead and say that I'm really scared of most people. Maybe meeting an entire group of knitting ladies that I know online in person isn't really THAT much of a stretch after all.
The End
(P.S. I don't even want to know how many errors are in this post. Typing at 3 a.m. is not really that great for flawless writing...)
I drive a lot at night. Sometimes I am stupid and drive too late at night because my phone turns off and I don't hear my alarm or because I am just enjoying things too much to head home. The roads in Idaho are empty at night. Some people may find that offensive, I find it reassuring. There is still at least one place in the world where people sleep; life is like it was long ago. It isn't like living in a big cit. For instance, there was always traffic in L.A. Maybe it wasn't bad, bumper-to-bumper, maddening, stop-and-go traffic, but it was traffic nonetheless. I like that my city still slumbers. I like that I live in a state where the past still thrives. Mere hours from my house there are people living on ranches, there are hermits surviving in the wilderness, and there are people who would still rather catch their dinner from the river than buy it from a fast food joint. It's different here. We have our own way of life. It is solid and good and I would not want it any other way.
Lately I've grown weary. I've noticed that the more anger I sense around me, the heavier my soul gets. It is still beyond my comprehension how people can be so hurtful to each other. It is even more beyond my comprehension how they can call each other on it without noticing that they are doing the exact same things back and forth. I don't understand hate. I've had bad things happen around me. It isn't that I live in a perfect bubble. Trust me, I wish I did. I feel pain, anger, frustration, but I don't feel the need to take it out on people around me. I know my secret hurts. I know the pain that I feel that nobody else could even imagine existing. I also know that the person that is making me angry has their own secret weight-of-the-world type pain. I try so hard to be kind and to not be hateful. It is an uphill battle, but I do try my hardest. I don't understand not trying.
Perspective is a bitch, hardcore. There is so much pain that is greater than the hurts I feel. My life is significantly more fair than that of a lot of people. Most of the stress and irritation I feel, I brought on myself. However, I still feel the need to vent it occasionally. The problem is that when perspective comes swinging at me with an iron fist, I have to pause and stop myself. It could be worse. It could always be worse. This nagging annoyance is nothing compared to the gigantic weight of grief felt by those around me.
For the last time, I am not fourteen. It has been nearly 11 years since I was. In fact, I don't even remember anything specific about being that young. That's how long ago it was. I realize that I look younger than my (almost) 25 years. I truly do not have a problem with people assuming I am in college or that I just graduated from highschool. I find nothing offensive about that at all. However, when someone looks at me and thinks "She can't even drive!" I want do punch them. I've decided that I am going to wear a whorish amount of makeup from now on. I am going to wear 7 inch heals so that I am at a more "adult" height. I am also going to go have larger breasts surgically implanted. Why you may ask? Because these are the top three reasons I hear for people thinking I am young enough to have been born in the mid 90s. "Oh! But you are just so tiny!" "I just assumed you were younger since you aren't wearing make up." "Wow, I had bigger boobs than you when I was 12!" Dear world so bombarded with media images of what is average that you can't even see my forming crows feet or the fact that my face is more mature than that of a barely pubescent child, you can bite me. I have friends with 14 year old daughters. I've seen them up close... yeah, I don't look even close to that young.
Oh, and while I'm already annoyed: writing is a job for me. It may not make me any money yet, but it is my job. Call it a hobby, and I'll probably cry. I would threaten loss of friendship, but we all know I'm not capable of carrying through on such things.
Kids are a test of patience. Patience has never been my strong suit. Every day I feel like I'm running a gauntlet. I think I need to buy a new pair of noise canceling earphones, put Eddy Izzard on loop on my iPod, and just tune out the incessant whining that I can't seem to stop my kids from doing. I love them dearly, however, I wish they had more grown up manners.
If it is sunny tomorrow, I am going to do a jig on my patio.
I bought a green tank top for St. Paddy's day, but then I realized I am probably just working in the nursery and nobody will see it because I'll wear a sweatshirt over it so that it won't matter if a kid pulls on my shirt. Oh well, at least I'll know I'm wearing a super cute and festive something under my bulky sweatshirt! :)
(fingers crossed) I am going to check out a knitting group tomorrow for a half an hour or so. I'm so scared of strangers. Well, really, I'm scared of not strangers too. In fact, we'll go ahead and say that I'm really scared of most people. Maybe meeting an entire group of knitting ladies that I know online in person isn't really THAT much of a stretch after all.
The End
(P.S. I don't even want to know how many errors are in this post. Typing at 3 a.m. is not really that great for flawless writing...)
3.06.2010
i'm not complaining, but...
It kills me. It absolutely kills me to know that people I love feel hurt. It's impossible not to want to run in and fix them. In my head, I'm a superhero. The fact that I am completely inept at saving people... well, it makes me feel inadequate and feeble. I wish I were stronger, that I could rush out and take the pain, the fear, the frustration away. I wish I could be in more than one place at a time.
3.05.2010
i'm fine-tuning my angry girl music pandora station...
We made it through week one of having a comic come out three days a week. It's pretty sweet actually. I mean, so it doesn't make money, who cares? The fact is, I'm writing something that gets published on a weekly basis. Not only that, it's been published on a weekly basis for almost a year now. I love it! How many people can say that they are actually living out their dreams? It's a pretty cool thing to be able to claim.
On a related note: my book is taking forever to complete. Splitting writing time can be frustrating. There are days when I know I have to get a comic done, but what I really want to do is work on the other love in my life. I suppose it is how things go. I've never been super amazing at balance.
On an unrelated note: the weather recently has been killer on my joints. I noticed today when I was climbing some stairs that my feet are starting to really hurt again. It is a frustrating thing, not knowing what the heck is wrong with me. All I know is that I wish it was in my head because then I could just will it away. The only long term relief I have had since it started was pregnancy... and let's face it, that isn't happening again. (At least not for years and years.) For now it is pain killers and trying to ignore it as much as possible.
I suppose that I should try to find some sleep. Maybe tonight I'll have splendid dreams and wake up to sunshine.
On a related note: my book is taking forever to complete. Splitting writing time can be frustrating. There are days when I know I have to get a comic done, but what I really want to do is work on the other love in my life. I suppose it is how things go. I've never been super amazing at balance.
On an unrelated note: the weather recently has been killer on my joints. I noticed today when I was climbing some stairs that my feet are starting to really hurt again. It is a frustrating thing, not knowing what the heck is wrong with me. All I know is that I wish it was in my head because then I could just will it away. The only long term relief I have had since it started was pregnancy... and let's face it, that isn't happening again. (At least not for years and years.) For now it is pain killers and trying to ignore it as much as possible.
I suppose that I should try to find some sleep. Maybe tonight I'll have splendid dreams and wake up to sunshine.
2.24.2010
guh... (that's ugh all mixed up)
Oh how it has been a week for ugh.
Yesterday I got a call from a government collections agency. Apparently, Wells Fargo decided to say I had defaulted on one of my loans. I was confused. I had been working with them on deferment, but when a fax apparently didn't go through, they decided to just default instead of contacting me first. Granted, I probably should have called them to make sure they got the fax, but it was still a little shocking. After a few hours of crying on the phone to a complete stranger named Michelle (the lady assigned to my account at the agency), I calmed down a bit. She was really the nicest person I have talked to about loans since graduating. She gave me options and it turns out that one of those options is even better than never having defaulted. Sure, I currently have a rather nasty mark on my credit that looks the same as if I had filed for bankruptcy, but she assured me that as soon as my loan was rehabilitated it would be as if it never existed. The really good news? Everything should be back to normal (well, even better than normal) in a couple of months. I'm hoping it all goes as smoothly as Michelle told me it would, but I really do think she was telling me the truth. In a couple of weeks I should be well on my way to a brand new student loan and also to having my credit restored. Whew.
Jenna has been a pill all week. At least when Josh is gone. I feel like she has a little switch that turns to naughty when it is just the three of us, and to nice the minute she senses him in the vicinity. The booger has been hitting, pinching, pulling hair, name calling, and taking toys from Cole. I think she knows I'm tired. I still try to be consistent, but insomnia and parenting a 3 year old don't seem to mix very well. I'm going to start tomorrow with a new strategy I think. If she even comes close to being bad, it's time out time. I need to stop with the second chances. Punishing takes a lot of effort when you are fall down tired, but I think in the long run it will save me energy.
Finally, there was the scarf. I can't even talk about it. *sob* Wanna know? You can read about it here...
I'm going to out think the insomnia tonight. I've going to bore myself to death with a constant stream of House Hunters on Hulu. Hopefully it bores me into dreamland and becomes insta-cure for the constant stream of sleepless nights I've been combating recently.
Yesterday I got a call from a government collections agency. Apparently, Wells Fargo decided to say I had defaulted on one of my loans. I was confused. I had been working with them on deferment, but when a fax apparently didn't go through, they decided to just default instead of contacting me first. Granted, I probably should have called them to make sure they got the fax, but it was still a little shocking. After a few hours of crying on the phone to a complete stranger named Michelle (the lady assigned to my account at the agency), I calmed down a bit. She was really the nicest person I have talked to about loans since graduating. She gave me options and it turns out that one of those options is even better than never having defaulted. Sure, I currently have a rather nasty mark on my credit that looks the same as if I had filed for bankruptcy, but she assured me that as soon as my loan was rehabilitated it would be as if it never existed. The really good news? Everything should be back to normal (well, even better than normal) in a couple of months. I'm hoping it all goes as smoothly as Michelle told me it would, but I really do think she was telling me the truth. In a couple of weeks I should be well on my way to a brand new student loan and also to having my credit restored. Whew.
Jenna has been a pill all week. At least when Josh is gone. I feel like she has a little switch that turns to naughty when it is just the three of us, and to nice the minute she senses him in the vicinity. The booger has been hitting, pinching, pulling hair, name calling, and taking toys from Cole. I think she knows I'm tired. I still try to be consistent, but insomnia and parenting a 3 year old don't seem to mix very well. I'm going to start tomorrow with a new strategy I think. If she even comes close to being bad, it's time out time. I need to stop with the second chances. Punishing takes a lot of effort when you are fall down tired, but I think in the long run it will save me energy.
Finally, there was the scarf. I can't even talk about it. *sob* Wanna know? You can read about it here...
I'm going to out think the insomnia tonight. I've going to bore myself to death with a constant stream of House Hunters on Hulu. Hopefully it bores me into dreamland and becomes insta-cure for the constant stream of sleepless nights I've been combating recently.
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