The · Fantasy · Pieces

Is better.


I know I said I was making a break up blog. Chuck ended up calling and texting me a few days later. After hesitantly agreeing to meet with him for Teazers at noon (which he bumped up to 8am because he was anxious), we decided to patch things up. When I say "patch things up," I mean I'm giving him one more chance. We both realized that breaking up isn't going to help either of us, or bring back the apartment, or make the transition any easier. That said, he apologized and, to say they least, we're working on it ;)

Since then, he's really been working hard to be there for me. He's come down to Fresno to hang out with me for the past two weekends, brought me flowers, fixed my car, cleaned the headlights, bought me groceries, and finally took to dinner and a movie.

Looking back on the entry I wrote just 20 days ago, I realized how hard I'd fallen in such a deep hole. How just one person leaving my life had such a great effect on me. It's a little scary, leaving that much of your emotional self in someone else's hands. I feel like I need to protect myself now, like something like that could happen again at any time. However, I was so grateful to everyone who came to my rescue, whether it was a call or text or just hanging out and letting me talk for a while. I'm lucky to have such wonderful people surrounding me.

One thing I am changing this time: I'm in control. I'm enjoying the things that I want to enjoy, and not feeling guilty that the other person doesn't see the same thing in it. I'm working harder in the things I want to excel in. My recital in the spring will come up quicker than I even realize, and I'm making time to practice and prepare. I'm hanging out with the people I want to be around more, and keeping my relationships with friends healthy. I'm done bending over backwards for people and things that won't do the same for me.
I'm in control.

This is going to turn into a break up blog for a little while, most for my own therapy. Feel free to pass it up on your friends' page. Here we go:



Breathe in. Breathe out. I'm still numb.

My subconscious is already busy chipping away at me. Last night I dreamed I was in toby's appartment with Dian, planning weddings and parties like old times. But she wasn't the same happy, fun, joking, Dian I know. She was hesitant and kept asking me, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

The scene changed and I was in Barstow, racing cars through the desert. Chuck was there and he gave me a hug and said, "See, I'm not the bad guy after all."

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I don't want to be mad at him. I'm trying really hard to see things his way and get on with my life. I'm doing ok for the most part, I suppose.

Last night, Jon took me to Sheri's Roadhouse for a few beers and let me run my mouth for a couple of hours. I was very grateful for the company and that I didn't have to be shut up inside the house. I came to the conclusion that I need to go out and seek it for myself for a while. I've really pushed some people to the back burner for the past two years. Hannah and Jess for example, who I should make time to go see, now that I don't have to worry about spending my time with someone else.


Breathe in. Breathe out.

Toby called around 930 last night to check on me and see if I was ok. I was a little tipsy when I called him back, and started crying right after I said hello. I feel pretty dumb, but appreciated the gesture.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

I just want to recognize that I am in the best relationship I've ever been in. To be with someone as levelheaded, reasonable, fun, handsome and steady as Chuck is amazing. He takes such good care of me, but isn't overbearing. He makes me feel wanted, but isn't clingy.

I won't ramble on and on about mushy stuff and get all corny. I just want to make it known that I'm really happy with where I am right now.

I spent spring break in San Diego. In the past five days, I:

1. Left Fresno at midnight and drove six hours to see my love.
2. Met a fried out kid named Tabs (nicknamed for good reason). He smoked all of my cigarettes.
3. Hung out with real hippies (one of which had the smelliest feet I've ever encountered).
4. Learned how to spange (slang for panhandling).
5. Hung out on the beach for entire days at a time. Also got a nice tan.
6. Met a guy with a southern accent named Chase. He'd come from Memphis to Texas to Hollywood to Ocean Beach. He was a on a mission to spend $100,000 that he had won from a car accident settlement (the drunk drivers tried to hide his body in the woods after they hit him). He had been putting the hippies up in a $200 a night hotel rooms since he had been in OB.
7. Watched the a fore mentioned Chase get arrested for stealing a lady's purse.
8. Got poisoned.
9. Picnicked on the beach.
10. Met Chuck's new roomate Johnny, a Florida native who could wrangle an opossum. No shit.
11. Learned how to play "The Game" and have been sucked into playing for the rest of my life. How to play it? Just think of the The Game and you lose.
12. Ate the most amazing Greek food ever.

Sounds like I stepped into some sort of movie plot. And of course, I didn't take any pictures to post :'(

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

My life has pretty much been a whirlwind since the beginning of this semester.

I'm taking 19 units, one of which is Music 50. This class is proof that if there is a god, he hates music majors. I have to do 45 hours of observation in public school music classes by April, plus teacher interviews. All of my other classes take place in the morning, which seems to be the only time that teachers hold band and choir classes. I miss a lot of other lectures just to fit in school visitations. On top of that, the lectures for this class are so ridiculous that I feel like I'm getting stupider by the second. The teacher talks a lot about "philosophies of teaching," but goes off on tangents about how he taught his kids to sing every different mode by the time they were 7, or how he takes his coffee when he practices trumpet. I observed an elementary music teacher today who knew my Music 50 teacher, and she flat out told me, "I don't like this guy. You can talk about philosophies and frickin standards all you want, but it won't do you any good with a room full of squirrely kids."

Other than being extremely busy running around from school to school, life is good. Bo has been hanging out at our place more often, and it makes me happy when I come home to good company. I'm still working in the same restaurant, and I acquired another small burn to remember it by on the back of my hand below my thumb. Good times.

Julie and I have decided to give up our place at the end of this semester. We both want to go home for the summer to save some money, and we both think we can find another apartment for much cheaper than what we are paying. I'm not sad about it. I haven't had the feeling of having a home since I left high school. When I started college, things at my parents house changed with the little time I spent there, and this box I've been living in for the past year is by no means a home. It's just another place to put my things.

Valerie's birthday party is tomorrow. It's an ABC party, and I've got an idea to make a costume out of caution tape. A little cliche, but I'm low on time and energy. Especially energy.

And now, a picture from happier times:

That's all for now.

Four hours of school, two hours of practicing, an rehearsal with the accompanist, and six hours of work later. I'm exhausted.

I've been slacking on my pikature-a-day project because of Thanksgiving break, but I think I got it down again.

I had a dream last night that I was a Jonestown survivor. I had to sneak around a broken down house with my dogs to keep from any of us getting shot. Then I caught a cab to New York and hid out in a bed and breakfast owned by a little old lady who collected spider skeletons and snake skins after they molted. I took my dogs into the bedroom where they hid under the bed, and I spent the rest of the dream being paranoid and looking through the blinds to keep watch. Even after I woke up I was still listening for voices before I got out of bed. Weird, huh?

Barstow was a kick. I always have so much with Chuck's family. :)

I had an interesting conversation with my boss yesterday at work. Mostly about making money on video poker, lakes up 168, and his encounter with the Hawaiian mafia. Random, but defiantly worth sticking around for.



Mamma's gonna buy gas for me to drive to Barstow :)

Working the closing shift tonight. It's gotten a lot better since certain person quit. It's amazing what a difference one person can make. This has been an exhausting week.

A friend of a friend did/is doing this, and I found it rather enlightening. I'm going to take a picture every day, and put it in a separate folder on my computer. That's it. From now until the end of 2008. I think it'll be interesting to look at the whole collection when I'm through. The things I see, how I see it, the consistencies, the inconsistencies, etc. Maybe if I stick to it I'll continue, but for now I thought Dec. 31st is a reasonable goal. I'll try to put some here in my journal from time to time.

I've been on my feet for the last five hours seating guests, getting drinks and running food...who knew that on Veteran's Day everyone would flock to the restaurants? The unique "thing to do" at the roadhouse is the free peanuts that you can throw all over the floor, and at the end of the night I get to sweep it all up from the front to the bar. You can't see it in this photo, but I usually come home with a layer of peanut dust on each shoe.