Just Got Off of Work and I'm Ranting Again

It is sad to me that I haven't written a blog in a while, though I'm not surprised; my inspiration is out of reach for the time being. My current yet extremely temporary muse is this overwhelming feeling that has a grip on me. It's an idea that makes me feel anxious and out of control. My current status on Facebook is this:

As a child you are encouraged to pursue your dreams wholeheartedly. When you mature and begin to make sacrifices to pursue said dreams, you are viewed as unrealistic.

If life were to achieve perfection, it would be this: I would drop everything that I am doing (my job and my school) and I would go to be with Michael. When I was in Alaska I got a taste of what it would be like to have him coming home to me everyday. I for once felt content. Then I left. 

I've reached a stalemate in my life, some sort of obstacle I can't find a way around. I know what I want, I just can't have it right now. But I want it now. Even worse, I thought that writing this book would help me cope, but I can't finish it with him gone. It is about him after all.

What Happens on the Boat, Stays on the Boat

So last night my boyfriend left the Alaskan shore and will be surrounded by nothingness without signal for four weeks and will be around a crew of dirty sailors with potty mouths who smell bad and he can only talk to me through email and, and, and (breathes) ...and I miss him already. A lot.

How on Earth can the boy do it? No clue. But he does. Oh the stories that he returns with. I'm sure there are many that I am not aware of, seeing as the crew considers their trips along the coast parallel to Vegas, and we all know that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

So Much Easier to Feel Sorry for Yourself

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhlsdfhfshkdfalakhdfl!!!"

I am so incredibly burnt out and I'm not even attending school this semester. I'm a girl that like variety in her life, so having the same routine over and over is just tiring to me. I go to work at 6:00 p.m everyday, work a late night until about 1:00 am working an entire room by myself sometimes, come home and maybe speak to my boyfriend. We get caught up in in our conversations and I end up passing out at about 4 a.m every night. But this happens even if I'm unable to reach him. I toss and turn until I lose track of the hour sometime in the early morning and then sleep finds me.

God I miss Alaska. When I was there, Mike came home to me everyday after work. I was in awe of the landscape: the mountains, the ocean, the flowers, the shore, the cool air. Everything. It was beautiful, being with someone that I love in such an inspiring place. It was easy to write there. The majority of my book was written there, and now I'm here, baking in the heat of the Texas sun, no mountains, just dead grass on the side of the highways and the sound of cicadas screaming at me from the trees. Don't get me wrong, I love Texas. It's my home. But I'm not driven here.

Perhaps it's not because of Alaska. Maybe it was because of him. He makes me want to move forward. Here, I just want to stay put, in bed, sleeping the rest of these months away until I see him again. My roommate would probably have to step in at one point. I highly doubt he can afford 750.00 a month alone.

Your social lives taunt me

Only one group in a thirty minute time span?

Well that is just silly. At least that's what I thought when I was faced with only two people to tend to at the lounge. Then I saw a cluster of football fans standing outside, painted head to toe in maroon and gold, wearing bobcat ears, the works. It was freaking magical. And suddenly I clued me into the fact that there is a football game occurring on campus. I was immediately jealous. My friend's 21st birthday party, a football game, what's next?

...And why am I here working again? Oh right, rent.

I remember, do you?

When the planes hit the towers I was in my sixth grade English class and we were about to start the morning announcements. I didn't know what the towers were, to be honest. But I couldn't be apathetic when I saw that my teacher was sobbing and running for the phone. That's when I realized the full extent of what had happened. 

If you asked me what terrorism was, I wouldn't have been able to tell you. If you asked me what the towers were, I'd have no answer. But I knew that people were dead-- people like my teacher's pregnant daughter. We watched the television in the cramped portable on the school grounds and saw those towers crumble before our youthful eyes. I don't know why I cried. Perhaps it was when they escorted my teacher away. In a way, I didn't want her to cry alone. 


A few years later they sent my brother away, and we held a candle light ceremony for him before he left. Suddenly I was one of the people in the towers as they were being evacuated. I was terrified and desperate, wondering "Why me? Why him? Why us?"

Me and my Brother Danny

Remember the fallen, remember those effected, and remember those saved.

WTF?

So today is my good friend Katie's "WTF" themed 21st birthday party. The idea was ingenious: to dress so outrageously that people say "what the fuck?" when they see you. Sadly I cannot attend, but I wait impatiently for pictures of the shindig. Until then, I am stuck in San Marcos, working another late night shift at the lounge, earning just enough to get me by. The paycheck to paycheck lifestyle is not one I care to lead the rest of my life. But being broke motivates me even more to finish my book!

While Kat is wrapped around the porcelain throne up in Austin, I'll be here, talking to the lot of you while at work.

C'est la vie!

That little voice in my head...

Originally this blog was supposed to be themed, much like the rest of the ones I see when I'm hopelessly searching for something more interesting than someone updating people about their quilts and those exploring their scrap-booking obsessions. But hey, whatever floats your boat! (And speaking of sea vessels, I do have to say that these blogs that I stumble across that are about sailing across the world really intrigue me. Kudos!) I do seem to be overusing parenthesis yes? Well, when I'm typing, I can't help but experience these asides in my head, like a little voice saying, "Say this please!" It simply cannot be helped. But I do apologize if they seem excessive.

I digress.

Reverting back to what I was talking about before, this blog originally was intended to have a theme. Who wants to hear the musings of a college student? So, I was going to focus on what sets me apart from the average Joe scholar.

...And sadly, that will have to come later. This entry seems to have taken a different direction than intended!




Disclaimer: Of course I'm not hating on people who make quilts. I love quilts. And scrapbooks! I have a shit ton. Though it may sound like I am using this disclaimer to cover my ass (maybe just a little), I do respect any brand of artist, not just writers.

My Name is Jessica, and I'm an English Major

So apparently as an English major I have three options: teach, clue into the warning signs and change majors, or live paycheck to paycheck waiting tables until the day I die (tragic, yes, but us English majors are subconsciously devoted to over-exaggerated Shakespearean conclusions). You are condemned the moment you meet with an adviser and say that you want to major in English. Their generalized response: "Oh, you want to teach then?"

Oh, Hell no. Words cannot describe how limited I felt right then. It is unnerving how one assumption can immediately lead to a girl doubting her dreams. Why isn't "write a best seller" an option? People view getting published as some unreachable dream, under the same categorization as becoming a famous actress.

Little do these people know (yes, Miss. Stick-up-her-ass adviser. I am talking to you too) there are more options for us out there. To be one of us, you have to be a dreamer, believe it or not. And us dreamers do not limit ourselves to such mediocre, colorless, mainstream options that were created to hold us back!

Maybe I'll teach when I'm burnt out on writing the best sellers mentioned above. Until then, I'm sticking to what I want.

Welcome to my Blog.