That wasn't me...was it?

I'm reading old journal entries from 2006.

What a terrible year. What a horrible existence.

It's so strange to read about my life then, to think about my life then. It's honestly just like I've put all of that past completely out of my memory bank. So much so, in fact, that it's like none of that ever happened.

Like, honestly. If I ever actually get to thinking about all of...that...it's like I'm remembering someone else's life, someone else's miserable past. Have you ever experienced this? Blocking out memories, people, events to the point of them seeming...surreal? To the point of it seeming like it never actually happened?

This is how it is for me.

Who was I then? I guess I was still figuring it out. Hell, I'm still figuring it out. Who am I now? I guess, comparatively, I am "happier", but with certain emotions and feelings being as they are, now, it's truly hard to say whether or not I am happy in general.

I want my happy.

Give it.

Untitled

I miss you. The way you make me feel. The way you motivate me from deep within yourself. That look of completion in incompletion. That great taste of power I receive from accomplishing you: I lap up the wisdom and the knowledge and the strength from your bowl of creative expression and hope that one day I will fill the bowl on my own. Among your columns and rows and letters and words…I am whole. I am finally final.

I miss you, writing. I miss our good times.

25. a photo of a night you loved

Tara, my mother, and I - Xmas '07.

Fooling around with Photo Booth.

We were all laughing so hard, we were crying.

My mother the writer

My mother sent me such a long text message early this morning. I woke up and read it immediately, then I thought: Wow. My mother should write a book. Or a blog. Or start a blog then write the book.

She really should. Even if it's called "Letters to My Daughter" or something! I will not rest until I convince her to do it! Or have her write it, but I post it for her (considering she is not too tech literate).

This needs to happen.

Go, Mom, go!!!

Anyway, drinking coffee at my desk, door shut - my poor kitty begging to run around the apartment, but...I can not. I can't risk a cat running amuck in an apartment where no pets are allowed, but new roommates are.

No one has moved in yet. That I can hear. Soon, I will venture out to grab more coffee - maybe I should put the coffee pot in my room, too? (haha)

Here's hoping for the best...

24. a photo of you that your hair looks nice in

I loved this haircut!

23. a photo of your friend as a baby

Lil Erika - Awz. ^_^

And yes, I am pretty sure that is a guinea pig...with one eye.

Lightsaber murder & new roomie mysteries!

I am utterly exhausted.

I honestly just thought about leaving the post at that. I did not sleep very much last night, at all. The sleep that I did get was full of dreams (many) and a nightmare or two (received an e-mail saying I did NOT get the job, etc.). My dreams, however, were both horrible and hilarious. All of the dreams I remember were like murder mysteries! In one of them, this man killed his mistress via lightsaber through the mouth. Hah!

I guess I really shouldn't find that amusing...but I do.

I've spent the majority of my day cleaning, organizing, trashing and moving. The apartment looks great, though! Well, besides parts of my room and my bathroom! But I need a break.

I am, supposedly, getting two - yes, TWO! - new roommates tomorrow and/or Sunday. I know nothing about them and have not lived with a) anyone I don't know or b) any females since...well, never!

I am thinking the worst, but of course my mind is wide open. Who knows?! Maybe I will get along splendidly with BOTH of them and we'll be like the Sex in the City girls!

Hahahahaha. Okay, sorry. I needed some humor today.

Despite the pessimist in me working over time, I truly hope this is beneficial to me as a person. I hope we get along and are respectful of each other (and each other's things/space).

We shall see!

Wish me luck!

Interactive resume, HO!

So, the past 3-4 days have been chaotic, exciting, entertaining and utterly productive as I created an interactive resume that I could present to the Photojojo team.

I applied for this job. There is no doubt that this is my dream job. And I have been psyched about this for a while now - as those of you close to me have had to "deal with". ;) (I'm sorry - actually, no I'm not! - but thank you for all of your support!)

Yes, this means I would drop everything and move to San Francisco straight away (in my mind, at least). And that, too, makes me giddy. I have longed to be rid of this "small town" and have often spoke of moving to California (Florida and Washington were dually considered). It served me well - MTSU especially - but it is just time to go, and let go.

Although, I know a resume does not mean you automatically get the job, I worked oh-so-diligently and hard on this and, well, I did my damnedest! Now, I just pursue an interview so that I can woo them with this Jamie charm!

I am proud. I am proud of what I've done and, most of all, proud that my closest family and friends are also proud (and supportive). This means more than anything. Hands down.

So, thank you again.

You know who you are.

I love you, guys.

22. a photo of your town

What represents MY town better than the MTSU Library, right?

21. a photo of you standing up

Me & Marky. Old school thrift store kids. <3

20. a photo of something you enjoy doing

Cooking (though just found out I love this, recently)!

And eating! Nomnomnomnom...

This is my homemade Alfredo sauce and homemade bruschetta!

I need a change in scenery.

I feel sick. And I don't even know why.

I have all of these thoughts in my head that I feel need to be written down, but when I think of writing them down I feel overwhelmed. I've been feeling that a lot lately. Overwhelmed. I don't DO anything. I shouldn't feel so. But I do.

The something I was thinking of writing tonight, condensed:

I want so badly to just pack up my things, and leave. Leave this city, this state, these people - without as much as a note. Not because I hate these people or this state (the city, yes), but...well, just because. I feel like that's what I need. Maybe. I even think of leaving Punk.

I feel like I've just said the most horrible thing ever, but it's true. He doesn't deserve to be trapped in a hot car with some crazy lady for god-knows-how-long.

Yeah, well.

I'm a coward. A coward with no assets.

There goes that plan.

19. a photo of you on a school trip

Why would I have this? Ugh. No can do for this day's photo.

However, I do remember a school field trip to a funeral home when I was in like...eighth grade? - Yeah, I have no idea why a funeral home either. - I totally fell back from the group, drank from a drinking fountain, and sat down: just being in that place made me light-headed, even though we didn't see any dead people and stuff.

Fear #1: Death.

18. a photo of one of your classes

I don't have any.

So, here is a photo of the obit I wrote for myself

in my Writing for Mass Media class 2 semesters ago.

Hah.

17. a drunk photo of you

Apparently, this is a god awful picture of me.

But I love it; it cracks me up.

I am literally screaming at Jeremy, "I HAATE YOUUU!"

16. a photo of you at the last party you went to

Jamaal and I at Tillman's going away party.

15. a photo of you and someone you love

My mother and I.

This is my heart, bleeding before you; this is me down on my knees.

Sleeping last night was more of a chore than usual. I can't remember if I fell asleep this way, or if this is something completely different, but, nonetheless, it isn't fun.

I think getting up to use the bathroom three hours into my sleeping session was a mistake: I seem to have fallen off the wrong side of the bed this morning. And, no, that is not a figure of speech. I awoke with this...sour taste in my head, this pot is about to boil over and I am not looking forward to it.

A lot is on my mind; and none of it is happy.

I need my happy. Where can I find it?

My best friend won't talk to me anymore. And, despite my assumptions, will not tell me why. Apparently, ignoring someone almost completely is the best way to make someone feel like utter trash. That and being right. (Not expecting that one to make sense.)

Do you ever think about how many best friends you have lost [over the years]? Is it a lot? Three? Four? Eight? - Makes you feel a bit uneasy, huh? Yeah, I'm right there with you. Right. There.

Coffee break.

In attempts to find the perfect photo for today (re: 30 day photo challenge), I realize how alone I actually feelam...

I am stuck somewhere between fantasy and reality. I'm uncertain how this limbo came to be, but that doesn't change the fact that it's just that. Limbo. How am I to decipher between what's best for me and what I want most? Changing a huge part of your life isn't something that should be done on a whim...should it? I am trying to convince myself to do the right thing; I am trying to convince myself I'm doing the right thing.

What am I doing?

Excuse me, think I've mistaken you for somebody else: somebody that gave a damn, somebody else...

I can't do this anymore.

Can you?

14. a photo of one of your favourite family members

These are my two brothers.

Yeah. They're rockin' He-man and Skeletor shirts.

Love. =)

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

This coffee is pretty amazing. And by pretty I mean fucking (but only in this instance...maybe).

Here I am, again: swimsuit garb, longingly staring out the window at the sun and the sky - silently threatening each cloud that appears, hoping it will get my drift and disappear.

I'm like a child. I've been living in this bathing suit - my skin slightly burnt, freckles all visible - all week. This is how it was when I was a child, as a matter of fact. I couldn't stay away from the water.

But, I mean, honestly, who doesn't like to swim?

Anyway, I will finish my cups of delicious coffee, apply more sunscreen, and head out!

Time to forget about idiotic people and the ridiculous things they do. Let the sun blind me momentarily to their shenanigans. Let the water wash away the negative emotions before I explode and do something [more than just] I will regret.

I don't answer to anyone. Especially you.

Shoo.

13. a photo of your best friend(s)

The two people who I will always love;

even if they don't love me.

^ Erika

^ Jon

xo

Poolside fun: recreational memory loss

I have been poolside for the past 3-4 days. No where else. And it has been fabulous.

Except now. Now, that it's raining. I am sitting here, suited up, ready to soak up the sun and wasting sunscreen.

Guess I'm ready to get burnt again.

Wow, it seriously isn't going to end anytime soon either. I am disappoint.

Back to the basics: my muse ran away. Initially I thought she was only hiding so that I would go outside and enjoy summer, rather than go about my pasty white life as is; but now...I think I'm being punished. Punished for my lack of effort, for my laziness.

I stopped writing - all together. Unless you count countless tweets about the sun and the pool and music.

Maybe that's it; I needed a musical intermission. Maybe.

But, honestly? Some genius needs to invent mind to text like now. This is out of control. I need my thoughts to instantly transfer into a memoir before they're gone for good. I need to be able to be in the pool, swimming, while simultaneously writing the next best seller.

Word.

I had an ingenious idea for the beginning - or middle? - of a novel. I had it right before I fell asleep last night. I punched it lazily into my iPhone Notes app and passed out. Today, I remembered, by chance, that I had done that, read it, and smiled. It was still just as epic as it was when my sleepy brain thought it up.

This is good. This means no more looking at scraps of paper and trying to decipher what I actually meant to write, or wondering what the hell my Excedrin PM influenced self was thinking.

I'm not used to my afterthoughts making sense like that. It's kind of nice.

More later (probably not).

12. a photo of you

11. a photo of your favourite film(s)

Well, one of my favorites.

Amélie

Cloudy skies, cloudy dreams

It's 3pm and the sky is chock full of clouds and random bouts of lightning. I had sunbathing and swimming plans - along with other such sunny tomfooleries.

And now what?

Now, I sit inside and watch Buffy while drinking coffee and fiddling with my iPhone. (Unemployment and the lack of finances kind of ruin "going out".)

I rue today.

Onto other things: I keep having two recurring dreams. Well, one is never really the same but I always have a dream where I am smoking. Recently, I dreamt my brother Brent came to visit for my birthday and his gift to me was a single cigarette because he knew I wanted to smoke. This is very unlike Brent. But, nevertheless, I sat at the bar and smoked that cigarette. And it was wonderful.

...okay, enough with the smoking dreams before I have an ever worse craving.

The other recurring dream involves this mystery man. Or boy. - Boy because I feel as if, in the dream, I am actually younger than I am in real life (as is he). - My mother is always in the dream, along with Punk, and she drives me a ways to see this boy. And, along the way, Punk always ends up in some sort of kitty shenanigans. But I always make it to see the boy. And it's a relief. Yet, usually, right after I get to him...I wake up. And I am left shifting, trying to become comfortable again, so that I can drift back away into that dream and find out more about my mystery boy.

I'm curious. And the dream felt good.

I'd like to go back to sleep, now.

10. a photo of you as a baby

This is the youngest photo of myself I have access to.

I was three or four. And wearing a paper bonnet.

I think it was Thanksgiving.

9. a photo of your family

(Left to Right) Mom (note the "motherly expression"), Rob, Brent, Me.

This picture is like...six years old?

But this is the most recent family photo I have.

Now, let's find the camera man...

This will do. Dad and Mom. Incredibly cute.

And last, but not least...

Punk. Cutest kitty ever. My boy. <3

8. a photo of your favourite band/musician

I can't pick just one. But I'll pick the one I have been

"all about", especially as of late...

Rilo Kiley.

This knot in my stomach? It's yearning.

Wanted: Community Marketing Whiz who Doesn't Act Like a Marketer

Seriously? I want to die.

I read this and wanted to cry, vomit, and soil myself - all at once. This is like my dream job! These guys sound amazing! Why don't I live in California yet? Why? Why?! WHY?!

Let the resume begin.

Have laptop. Will move to Cali. Kthx.

7. a photo of someone you love

This is Punk. He's the best cat in the world!

And he plays Magic. - I love you, Punk cat!

6. a photo that makes you laugh

This was after Serkan and I picked Cheese up from

his basic training for "family week". He is screaming.

And it is glorious.

I feel the earth beneath my feet.

Rilo Kiley is amazing. I mean it. Jenny Lewis has the most beautiful vocal chords: she hypnotizes you with her voice like no other.

I was introduce to Rilo Kiley about five years ago by my brother, Brent. He told me to give it a listen, knowing I'd enjoy it. I did; and I loved them. He mailed me the album The Execution of All Things and I listened to it all summer. I was living back at home in Michigan - with my parents - at the time. Heartbroken. Confused. Broke. Depressed. But I remember spending my days sprawled across the deck in the back, iPod in hand, eyes closed, sun on my face...that album was everything. It made me feel. It made me...happy. Every song spoke to me, every note was just right.

You know, maybe it wasn't so much the album, but the timing. Either way, that continues to be one of my favorite albums (and artists) ever. Thanks, Brent. For that and so much more.

Brent and I don't talk much at all anymore.

It was my choice, I guess.

Kind of.

And I miss him.

5. a photo of you

Progress makes perfect.

I went out jogging twice today. I was actually all antsy and wanted to go a second time. - Hey, who am I to argue with myself over actually wanting to exercise? Amirite? I pulled about 3.5 miles.

Well, I recorded my best average pace today, too. Still haven't beaten my best mile, but we'll get there. Just trying to get in the groove again. My legs and arms and abs are all killing me. I am trying my best to engage my arms and abs (consciously) when I walk/jog, so that I get an even better workout. Although, I probably look awfully awkward when doing it.

I just wish I could shed pounds easier. - Or that my metabolism would stop acting like a 38-year-old woman. - Keeping in shape has never been easy for me; it never will be.

My problem has never been eating too much, or eating unhealthily; I guess I'm just...not a size 0. I'll never be that thin. I think, a healthy and attractive size for my body type is like a size 6 or 7.

The last time I was that size I was eighteen (maybe nineteen). Cool, now I feel old.

Going to end this post before I get discouraged and go buy two tubs of ice cream...and go fat girl on myself.

D=

Cryptic and confused

I don't know.

Why do I always push things aside - I hit "Read Later" on things that bother me, I Instapaper my life.

This can't be good.

I mean, is this something that gets resolved now; or is this something that continues to float around, linger in the back of my mind, my day, my life?

It sounds silly, once I actually say it. Once I lay it all on the table, it's a no brainer...right?

I have no answer. And that scares me.

4. a photo of the last place you went on holiday

Xmas with the folks in Ohio.

3. a photo that makes you happy

This took me a while [to find].

This is my grandmother, Elsie; and she’s wearing my brother’s boots.

This photo makes me incredibly happy

because it reminds me of my grandmother’s amazing personality!

She’s crazy intelligent, fun-loving, caring, hilarious,

easy to talk to, and she used to write poetry and stories

(some of which she can still recite).

She's put up with the whole family teasing her

about her height (she's like 4'8") on a regular basis -

hence, the boots.

But she always had a smile on her face.

Elsie now has Alzheimer’s.

Needless to say, she just isn’t…herself anymore.

And that kills me.

I miss getting my ass kicked in Scrabble by her,

sitting next to her and doing crossword puzzles together,

and the sound of her giggling uncontrollably.

I love you, grandma. So much. And I miss you.

You're an amazing woman! I want you to know that!

I’ll see you in December for Christmas! <3

A love letter [excerpts]

I want to feel needed, wanted, sought-after. I want you to surprise me with things. I want you to gush romantically about how great I am. I want you to walk next to me. I want to feel your hand on the small of my back. I want to cuddle you into oblivion. I want to latch onto you, and you me, until we fall asleep. I want to act out fantasies with you. I want to give you space; I want to never leave your side. I want to glance up, only to catch you smiling at me. I want to watch you sleep. I want you to brush my hair from my eyes/forehead/behind my ears. I want to tell everyone how great you are, and how much I adore you. I want you to tell me jokes until I spit milk out of my nose. I want to slow dance with you. I want to have a song. I want to whisper sweet-nothings, and seductive somethings, into your ear when you least expect it. I want to have sex with you in a public place, in public places. I want you to sing to me; I want to sing to you. I want you to come up behind me, and wrap your arms around me. I want you to make me feel safe. I want to just stare up at the sky with you. I want to beat you at games. I want to encourage you. I want to amuse you. I want to still get chills when you kiss me. I want to know that if I fall, you'll be there to pick me up. I want to know that when I cry, you're there to hold me tightly and tell me it will all be okay. I want to know that if I'm in trouble, you'll help me, you'll come to my rescue in any way you can. I want you to open doors for me; I want to open doors for you. I want you to completely trust me, not doubt me. I want you to make me laugh when I'm mad at you. I want to be best friends, and so much more. I want to set aside time for us: alone time. Just you and I. Whether we cuddle and watch a movie, go out to dinner, or take a bath together. I want to just sit and talk with you. I want to get dressed up and go out on a real date - and not just once. I want to dress down and cuddle up on the couch, eat pizza, and play video games. I want to spend all day in bed with you. I want you to ask me to go with you places. I don't want you to demand or assume I always will, but I want you to genuinely want me to accompany you: your family get-together, to a movie with your friends, or when you move to California. I want to be completely comfortable with you, and you with me; I don't want us to become too comfortable and take each other for granted.

I don't want to cry over you for all of the wrong reasons. I don't want to wonder "Why?" or "What if?", but I want to jump in with both feet, you by my side, hand-in-hand. I don't want you to ever leave me alone at a party for more than two minutes, especially if I don't know anyone there. I don't want you to ever fear of telling me something...anything. I don't want to feel disposable, ugly, fat, inadequate...but sometimes I may. I know my shortcomings and flaws are neither your burden nor yours mine. I am not putting my self-esteem on your shoulders, but that doesn't mean you can't do everything in your power to lift me up, make me happy, and make me feel sexy.

There is nothing like feeling sexy.

I want to make you feel sexy. And confident. So much so, that you sweat just thinking about how attractive and wonderful you are to me.

It's a give and receive sorta thing. It's laughter and crying and yelling and loving. It's hot and spicy; it's sweet and mild. It's hugging each other at just the right moment. It's just knowing the other needs to be left alone for a while; it's knowing that the other needs you at that exact moment. It's just sitting there, quietly; it's talking my ear off. It's silly and warm and sexual and hurtful and wonderful and beautiful...all at once.

It's not demanding, it's gracious. It's smiling and lustful. It's surprises and chivalry (on my part, as well as yours). It's always remembering the important things, and why they're so important. It's sex and love and music and movies and dinners and dates and games and friendship. It's pet names and laughing at each other when we're being stupid. It's feeding each other finger food - or, sometimes, just shoving things [lovingly] into each other's mouths. It's reading quietly next to each other. It's pulling the car up when it's raining. It's playing footsie under the dinner table. It's going out of your way to pick me up a coffee when you know I've been up all night finishing a paper last minute. It's going out of my way to make you breakfast in bed...just because.

2. a photo of yourself a year ago

Sit down, don't shut-up, and hold on to your smartphone tight: in a little more than 140 characters.

Hello. I want to talk to you about knowledge.

But not just knowledge: information, technology, and social media. - Does it turn you on? Does it make you restless? Do you shift in your seat? Does your head hurt?

Think about how far we've come. Hieroglyphs. Folk tales. Written text. Codex. Moveable type. Teh interwebz. Search engines. Methodic relevance ranking (Google) in such engines.

We tweet and status update and micro-blog. We inform in 140 characters or less. We're in this fast-paced - blink or you'll miss us - age. It's keep up or gtfo. We spend our whole day reading, thinking, typing, searching, creating, working...

And then sleep.

We close our eyes. We close them quickly and hope to god we fall asleep in just enough time to wake-up, refreshed, so that we can keep on keeping up. This isn't Kansas; we don't dream in technicolor; and the only wizard we're familiar with is our software auto-installer. We dream in CSS and Twitter feeds, Tetris blocks and Farmville crops.

We're fed information - news, spoofs, lolcats, reddits, tweets - all by the ladleful and we love it.

I love it.

The soundtrack of our lives consists of IMs, push notifications, chirping, and the quiet hum of the machines that are our lifeline: our lifeline to all that keeps us up-to-date and savvy. Without the seemingly scary pace - at which this bullet train is pulling us by our teeth - where would we be? Back at the last stop? Heh. I don't know about you...but I have no intent of being stuck at that last station. It smells like old technology. It smells slow and less knowledgeable...less shiny.

So, sit down. Don't shut-up. And hold on to your smartphone tight.

We have a lot of information to share.