The End.

I have one last day of being single. I don't know how I feel about this. Currently, I'm sitting in a silent apartment by myself with zero emotion going on on the outside, but at least 10 solid emotions going on inside of me. It's too confusing to try to battle each one out, so I think just sitting calm on the couch while I have no idea what is going on inside of me takes place is what I'll keep doing. Great.

Today the hall sewer backed up, and my wedding shoes and others accessories were in the dumpster. Luckily, fished out before they were crushed somewhere or put in a dump or lit on fire.

I really, really wish I believed things were meant to be. It'd be great to just hear it from someone I trusted that could tell me everything I'd like to know. Guess it doesn't work like that.

I don't know what to write. I can't write what I'm feeling anyway, and in two minutes my emotions will change so it doesn't matter.
Goodbye.

I've always wished I was good at skating. I'm not. While others glide dreamlike over ice, I hold the skill level of a five year old. Sometimes I wonder if I tried hard enough if I could be good. Maybe. Maybe I missed my prime. I think about the way I've lived life. If I had the mindset and thoughts I have now I may have done it different. Well I know I would have. But I wouldn't have developed them without things going the way they had. I'm not a fan of the thought of my life being pre destined. I don't really accept the concept. But in weak moments sometimes I wish I thought it was. It would give me a lot less to think about. Knowing whatever I do it will turn out a certain way. Really, having every choice out there for me to radically shift the outcome of my life makes life a lot less doable. This is how I see it, though. Maybe, although it seems such an outrageous concept, pre destination is a utopian way of thought. Ya, I know, choice is everything to people and without it we are robots. But we would really have no worries. No what ifs. What if I hadn't gone to school, hadn't met that person, hadn't .... Or what if I had done this or that, perhaps more importantly. Because nothing would change the outcome. If pre destination is the way to be, we've essentially nothing to worry about because we are completely out of control. Choice gives control. It alters lives. It makes life hard. It causes regret, worry, stress. Freedom. With freedom comes responsibility, I guess. Just like power? Maybe freedom is a super power. I don't think we, especially I, am properly equipped to handle it. There's too many routes. I see my life a million ways. At least if I thought it was pre destined, essentially nothing matters. So although I get it, I don't get why freedom of will and choice is all the rage. It just means it's your problem you screwed up, made the wrong choice, didn't do things right. People want this. I do. Yet choice is probably the biggest dilemma, problem, source of confusion in my life. I wish I could make a choice without wondering the alternatives. Nothing is certain. One shot at life isn't enough.

Would you rather be nieve and happy and content, or know the truth and be discontent, awry and confused?

Would you rather have a ferocious snake in every toilet you use (a big one) or a scary stranger tap on your window every night forever, smiling creepily at you?

Silence

There has been a lot of silence in my life as of late. For one, I haven't been listening to any music while driving in a pretty long time. A few weeks, anyway. At first it only happened when I was under great contimplation of this or that, but then I simply grew tired of all the music on my iPod. Didn't bother to change the station to radio. And there you have it. But I really like it. Most the time I am singing anyway, but it gives me some time to just have in silence. I think silence is important.

Blogs. I think I started my blog because I enjoy writing, as well as reading good writing. I have always had one of those nerdy journalistic tendencies. I like to put my thoughts on paper. Get my heart out on the line somewhere, I guess. At first, although a little embarrising, I believe no one read mine. So it was easy to write about anything. A few people started to mention that they read it and I even have a few regulars now. Now, though, I have to think more carefully about what to say. I have lots to say, don't get me wrong. And in the format of writing I could elaborate on perhaps too much. But it's ironic that now that I have a tiny, tiny fan base that it limits content. Cause then all my lifeness could really get public. Hmm.

I've had a rollercoaster of a last week. Yeah. I find most simply do not ask. Do not delve into others lives to see what's going on. I usually associate not asking with not caring but maybe it's the case that my issues aren't quite as interesting as what I make them out to be. Or they have their own. Who knows. But a person delved into my inner thoughts and it kinda felt like my heart spilled all over the floor. Literally. That's a gross mental image, but it's what it felt like. I don't really know if the person really cares about my life all that much or not, but somehow, by the tiniest prodding, I opened up and bore my soul. And my guts spilled out and it felt messy and raw and unsettling. But I appreciated it.

I talked to a friend about how she needs reassurance. She's a reassurance gal. Needs friends to hug her, tell her they love her, or she starts feeling down. She described herself as "needy". I didn't think I was that way, but we all have social quirks. Mine is approval. I find a person or people I look up to in some way. Just something superior i seem to see. And I try to find a way to get approval. A joke, a gesture, an act of kindness or a conversation. It's my social quirk. The worst thing about these is they don't always work. Like my needy friend, approval is not always present. Or I up the stakes for a challenge. Regardless, those people or that person I look to usually start out hardly knowing my existance, and wind up not really caring in the end, so I move on. It doesn't help that I'm a quiet person by nature. I am not good at small talk, don't enjoy opening up with out an invite, and don't want to invade space without consent. I don't mind the silence. But I won't lie. I'm kinda envious of those who are excellent in conversation. I, I think, am rather boring. I lack that great joke, great story, great laugh kind of social appeal. Oh well. I'm not sure i'd trade it for the ability to enjoy silence so much anyways.

I have a lot to say but not sure how to say it. This, at least, released some literary tention building. Ha. It's funny that I enjoy it so much but suck writing it. Every one of the people i have talked to in English 100 scored better than me, consistently, and
they're taking the class just cause everyone needs it. Oh well. Maybe I suck at writing, but I'll always appreciate it.

AIDS education with Joni

Hello everyone. I had to come back to elaborate and educate on the subject of HIV/AIDS.

AHEM.

Let me clarify the difference between AIDS (quite capitalized) and HIV. HIV causes AIDS. Although they may be said to not be the same, they are directly related. Hand in hand, or perhaps better stated: cell to cell. In fact, "AIDS is the final stage of the HIV infection." A person has AIDS when the cd4 count (cells that fight illness) is below 200, or they have more than one ois (opportunistic infections) - health infections that healthy people could normally fight off. HIV destroys and deteriorates the immune function which causes AIDS.

Therefore, henceworth, thusly: it is unlikely that Daniel would marry me with HIV but not AIDS. For HIV is an infection that leads to AIDS. Which leads to death.

Symptoms: flu like symptoms: swollen lymph glands, rash, fever, muscle aches. The number one symptom is itchy and hot foot after tattooing.

Www.epigee.org/health/hiv_symptoms.html

Www.essortment.com/all/hivaidsdiffere_pdo.htm

I think I have aids. My tattoo gave me aids. It's been over a month and the itching had not ceased. My entire foot had sufferred. A toe swelled up, my heel is ultra sensitive. It's gotta be aids. I asked Daniel if he would marry me of I had HIV. He said no.

Guess the weddings off.

Promoting and advertising

Check out Daniels blog at dthue.blogspot.com

let's cheer on our vetrans.

I am not straight.

So, I was driving home from school today and suddenly the straightness of everything really started to bother me.

No, I'm not a lesbian.

I've heard from more than one art class that the invention of the straight line is just that -- an invention, and it's man-made. Nature is full of asymetrical curves and lines, yes, with jagged rock that appears straight but has little tiny jigs and jags and although I'm pretty sure a straight line must be SOMEWHERE in nature, if you just take a good look at it, it's not a common occurance. At all. So here I was driving, thinking about this, and I looked and admired the trees on the side of the road. With nice little snowy heaps gathered on top. Nice little wintery trees that look so pretty. Asymetrical, curvy and all different, but beautiful. Then there was the road. The straight road. The straight lines seperating lanes. The straight signs. Straight words. Straight houses. Straight vehicles. I thought about myself. I looked down at my fingers. One might describe their fingers as straight, but they aren't. At least mine aren't. My legs aren't straight. I'm not straight. I'm glad I'm not straight cause I don't like straight lines. One of the most annoying things about painting is straight lines. I am not naturally good at drawing them. I used to be - and still am, to quite a degree - mostly preferent to very realistic art. I'd say my art is quite realist. But there's something to be said about the fact that you can look at a person just fine, so why bother drawing it just like that? Why bother drawing a picture-perfect picture when you can just take a picture? This is what got me started.

I love nature. I LOVE nature. The worst thing about moving away from the farm I grew up on was leaving that behind. The odd patch of trees planted along streets just doesn't cut it for me. I hear people say, more than not, that they couldn't bear to live on a farm, or in a small town. Not convenient enough. Not enough to do. They want bigger towns. Better towns. More convenience. More things to do. I have had these thoughts myself. But deep down, to my core, I desire nature. Simplicity. True beauty. Snow that hasn't been wrangled and mangled and dirtied by people and cars and pollution. Just nature. I miss it, I want it, and I want to be in it; my un-straight ness with its un-straightness. We just seem to get along. I'm not sure what makes me feel more content and happy than nature.

Everyone's just so. Rushy. I am, too. I'm trying to put an end to this stupid rushy theme of living that gets everyone high strung and grouchy and rushed and panicked and rushed. More than not, I'm late. This is just a fact of my life, but believe it or not, I put effort into being on time a lot. It just doesn't pan out. So the other day I was going to be on time for the first time in a while, and lone behond a train stopped my path and made me late. But for the first time instead of sighing or throwing my head back or gripping the steering wheel, I just watched the train go by. Put the car in park and looked at the graffiti. Thought about what it'd be like to be on a train through the prairie or through the moutains, surrounded by trees and rocks and going where cars can't go. It was nice.

I want to be a person who appreciates where I am. Maybe even an optimist, in this world where nothing goes right and people have never and will never evolve into being more moral, or better species. We never will. I've spent most of my life relenting this fact. I probably always will. But as much as I think relenting it is important, and the nievity and materialism and individuality with no regard of others of our culture is astonishing and disgusting, there ARE good people out there. There are people who've got it right. I've talked to them. There's nature and paths to follow and things to do and instead of always seeing all the dirty microscopic up close things like an ant, carrying way too much burden on our backs, sometimes we have to be a bird leaving it all below and appreciating the Earth and that we've got life to live and things to do and achieve and create and learn. Get out of the straight city and straight life with straight goals and determined views. None of us are straight. So we should stop trying to be.