Smokey

I finally saw it. The place where they buried my baby. They did some work on it and there's a wall and a bench and what not. Gramma was going to take me out there and show it to me but, I said "maybe later". Well, when she went to bed, I went out and gathered up all my courage and walked out. I had no clue where it was so I just kinda walked. I saw a bench and I figured it was over there. So I tried to hold back the tears and I walked over to this patch of overturned dirt and thought for a minute it was that. It wasn't. I continued walking to the bench. I just kinda walked for a minute and looked. I didn't know where she was and there wasn't a marker that said "Smokey" on it or whatever so I just kinda cried and went back in feeling guilty. I don't even know where my baby is buried. I know she's buried over there and I want to know where there but, I don't want to break down in front of any one. I know that if I go out there with Gramma and she shows me where Smokey is that I'll start crying and she'll try to make me feel better and I don't want that. I want to go out there and sit there and cry and cry and cry until I'm over her. At least until I'm over her more so than I am now. I miss her. She's been gone for more than five months and I don't think about her every day (and I feel horrible about that sometimes) and the ache isn't as bad. I can look at the picture of her and I that I framed (in a paper frame that says "Best Friends") and not cry and not be sad. But then I think about it. About the fact that my baby is gone. About the fact that I don't know quite where she's buried. About the fact that I've lived on this earth for only 15 and a half years and I've got probably three times that much left. I have to live something like the next three-fourths of my life without her. Yes, I've got Zuri. But when I'm 30, Zuri'll probably follow Dutchess, Smokey, and Tiger (and by that point probably Chyna too) into the grave. And yeah, when I'm thirty I'll probably be married and have kids but Zuri'll still be my baby just like Smokey will always be my baby. And I'll be alone. I'll get another cat maybe. Or I'll already have one. But my last tie to my youth will be gone. Human friends are great, don't get me wrong. Y'all are amazing. But animals are different. Humans grow and change just like you. Animals grow and change but, there's something about them that stays that way. Zuri'll be more a relic of when I was fifteen than Lindz will be (if I'm still friends with her). Smokey was my tie to when I was a baby. Before I remember. I vaguely remember getting Tiger. Smokey was *the* animal I got before I remember. There will never be another animal I get before I remember. Smokey's gone and even though I don't bawl when I see her picture, I'm bawling now. If I'm still crying (occasionally) about Dutchess, I'll still be crying about Smokey until forever. I had Dutchess only a year. I had Smokey for fifteen. Thanks for listening to the rambles of a crying girl. I'll be okay. I'm not crying anymore. I swear. Thank you for listening. I am forever endebted.

Vickey

The e-mails

I forgot to include those e-mails last night. I was working under a time constraint and had about 60 seconds to post that. So here are the e-mails.

Can I ask you a favor? Could you please stop reading my journal? At least my main AOL one? (A moment that is mine) I don't mean to be a bitch or anything, I'd just rather you didn't. It's easier to be myself when people I don't know in real life are the only audience I have. Otherwise I have thoughts that I stifle because they're "inappropriate" or contrary to the image I want to present or just things that I'm embarrassed about or whatever. So could you please stop reading that one? Thank you. Vickey   Of course - anything for you!

I betcha I know what it's about - and I'm sorry for putting the
pressure on you. I really dislike feeling obligated to do something,
which is why i forced the responsibility on you - It wouldn't feel
right to me to do something like that because I said i would a while
ago - I'd want to do it spontaneously, because I really wanted to at
the moment in time. And nothing against you for acting as you did,
either - it's your choice, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Anywho, it's off the reading list. I'm leaving tomorrow around noonish
for school, and i'm verrry excited! Sooo much to do.

You're still my supergirl ;-) All parties willing, I'll hunt you down
and hang out when you when I'm around Rochester again.

--M

PS - You don't have to worry about maintaining an image around me, ya
know. I understand how ya feel, and I never overreact, nor are my
feelings capable (or so it seems) of being hurt. ^-^   I'll give you all the full story later. Right now, I need to go do my routines. (Yes, I'm at the computer and my bed isn't even made! *gasp* Gotta go before FLYlady starts hitting me on the head with her wand. lol)   Vickey

I lied.

From a FLYlady essay

We cannot ever change what happened to us
as a child, teenager or a young adult. For that matter we can't
change what happened yesterday, so why do we fret about it? This is
why I keep telling you that you are never behind, jump in where we
are and just start. Don't beat yourself up about what might have
been, look at what you can accomplish today. We have spent too many
years feeling sorry for ourselves and whining that I just can't help
it. "I was abused!" Well it is time to accept those bad things as
just something that happened and use them as a guide to a better way
of life. Looking back is only keeping you from experiencing the gift
that is yours today. Your present can be the joy that you have been
searching for, if you will just let go of your past and get on with
living, instead of wallowing in self-pity and pain.

Talk about a God Breeze. I've been beating myself up over yesterday afternoon and cringing every time I see the e-mail he wrote me back and every time I saw his sn signed on or the e-mail I wrote to him. Guess what? I can't change how I reacted. I can't change what happened and guess what? I reacted how I did for a reason. Because I'm not ready to kiss a guy. Because when I do have my first kiss, I want it to be with someone I love. Or at least have a SERIOUS crush on AND AM DATING. I want my first kiss to be with the boy I'm dating at the time. I'm not going to go try to find a guy and go out with him just to kiss him but I'm going to kiss a guy only when he becomes my boyfriend. Maybe not right away but, eventually. I can wait until I feel like it's right. I can wait until it's spontaneous and romantic. I can wait until it's the right guy at the right time in the right place. Murph is not the right guy, yesterday was not the right time, and my doorway with my dad and brother about 10 feet away is not the right place. See, there's a reason I didn't get to my e-mails for so long. There's a reason I had filed them away. There's a reason I got to them tonight. There's a reason for everything. I can't change what happened. I can't go back in time and redo it. If I could, I still wouldn't kiss him. Yes, he leaves tomorrow for college. Yes, I may not see him for a long time. But no, I will not sacrifice the sanctity of a first kiss just because he's leaving. It's like in Grease 2 (which sucks by the way) when the guy tries to convince his girlfriend to "do it for our country, our country wants us to". He says he might be going away to be drafted any day. Murph *is* going away but I'm not going to be convinced to kiss him just because of that. It's not worth it. My first kiss is just as special as my first time being intimate. I'm not going to throw my kisses away. I intend to keep them as special. Any how, I can't change what happened and I can't go back in time. But that's okay. For the first time since he left, I feel at peace with myself and with my choices.

I wonder which journal I'll post this in. Hmmm.... let's see.... possibilities: Xanga, LJ, A Moment That Is Mine, or Ma Serie de Crises. If Xanga, protected, private, or public? (Protected means nothing as I have no one on that list as of yet.) If LJ, private, public, or friends? I could do Xanga public to watch Jake squirm but this isn't the sort of thing I post in there. I could do LJ friends but, I don't think I want to reveal this God Breeze to them. I'll probably end up posting it in A Moment That Is Mine seeing as he no longer reads that as per my request. Oh, and I'll post the e-mails I mentioned earlier in this entry too. Guess it's A Moment That Is Mine. Y'all know (almost) everything about me anyhow. Kay, time for bed. Or more accuratly, time to clean up the bathroom from my bath and then bed. Good night and sweet dreams, all. (Note to self: learn to say that in French or Italian.)
Vickey

Last post today, promise

aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to confusion
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to growing up
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to turmoil
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to "rites of passage"
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to the crap inside my head
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to lack of a good cry
aldskfjawpoirpgfrlifkfdkfdkfdkjnfdkflgf to this weight on my heart

rlakjeroiuerkodsjflksdajfsldjkfskdghsdifhsdoijwoit

That didn't help much so I started screaming. Then I threw a temper tantrum. I haven't thrown a tantrum like that for years. I'm talking screaming, punching, throwing, flailing about, kicking. Couches were knocked off the couch, my hair was messed up, my throat hurts from the way in which I screamed. That felt good. Really good. I feel much better now.

.....

To the guy who categorized how I ate my ice cream: please don't read this journal anymore. Thank you.

To the rest of you: My head doesn't want to focus on anything today. I woke up with a bit too little sleep but I don't think that's it. I'm confused. Yesterday left me with a lot of questions. I'm wondering if I'll regret not kissing him. I'm wondering if I would have regreted it if I had. I'm wondering why I'm so tired. I know I didn't get enough sleep and I know sitting on my arse for the past few hours didn't help anything (but I did see Prelude to a Kiss, French Kiss, and the last hour of Coyote Ugly, which is still on, all of which are good). I couldn't fall asleep last night because of questions racing through my mind. But I know I made the right decision, right? I hesitated enough times that I know I made the right decision. I was supposed to make the first move. Apparently, when I didn't, he didn't want to wait so he tried but I said one word, "go". Just one word and I was depressed for the next two and a half hours. I changed my mood with one song and baked some cookies. I need a good cry. That's what I need. To cry my soul out. Hell, to cry myself to sleep. I always wake up refreshed when I cry myself to sleep if it's big, heart breaking sobs. Guess what I'll be doing tonight is drowning my sorrows in Moulin Rouge and Gone With the Wind. Too bad I gave that copy of Message in a Bottle to the library. It always makes me cry. Oh, I can read the end of The Guardian and cry my eyes out! Yay! lol How sad is this? I'm going nuts over the prospect of bawling. Time for the advil and a chocolate chip cookie.

(This is taking a lot of courage to hit save and I don't know why. It shouldn't but it is. I never write anything that doesn't get saved though and I won't start now.)

Before and after

Before FLYlady, what would today have been like? First, let me set the scene. It's Monday, almost the end of summer, and I'm home completely alone. I repeat, what would today have been like before FLYlady?

I would have woken up around noon.
I'd still be sitting here in my pajamas.
My teeth would be unbrushed.
My hair would be a rat's nest.
I would be wiping sleep from my eyes still.
The next few hours would be wasted on the computer.
My "breakfast" would have been about 40 minutes ago and would have consisted of two or three chocolate chip cookies.
My laundry would be piled up in my closet.
My room would be a complete mess.
I'd still have my glasses on.

Instead, do you know what today's been like so far?

I woke up around 8, got dressed, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, moisturized my face, took my pills, put in my contacts, and made my bed.
Sure, I have stuff on my desk and my dresser but, you can see great spans of space in between.
I've been on and off the computer all day.
I had half a turkey sandwich for breakfast.
I had a toasted tuna (with french dressing instead of mayo mixed in) sandwich, a banana, a few stale pretzels, and a chocolate chip cookie for lunch.
I ran a load of laundry (that was far too full but, opps).
I spent fifteen minutes going through garbage bags of stuffed animals in the basement (I still have to clean them up though).
I cleaned the windows of the front and back door.
I took out the trash.
I dusted the horiziontal surfaces.
I participated in the Monday Photo Shoot.
I ranted at Jake in an entry in my Xanga.
I made tentitive plans for tomorrow.
I've drinken (drunk? drank?) approximately 5 glasses of water.
I still have to spend some time cleaning up my room.
I still have to take a shower and shave (again, how often must I reference that in this journal?!).
I'm watching Prelude to a Kiss with Meg Ryan and Alec Baldwin (who annoys me, at least in this movie).

Do you see the difference? Going to read more of Gone With The Wind and finish watching the movie. Oh, one other thing I did was clean up the mess in the basement yesterday. I fixed the couch, trashed the deck of cards that's missing a few cards, and picked up the art supplies that fell on the ground. Time to go. Oh, I have to bless my heart, too.

Babbling procrastination

I really need to get offline and to work on my summer assignment but, do you think that's what I'm going to do? Of course not. Jack's play is tonight. It's Joseph (and the technicolor dreamcoat, I assume but have only heard it referenced as Joseph). Anybody wanna make the trek to Rochester to see an amateur play at town hall? (Granted these amateurs are great. Jack's gonna be a-maz-ing!) I haven't seen any of her plays thus far this year and I feel bad about that so tonight Sayid, Russo, and I are all going. Unfortunatly, Jack fell off stage a few days ago and the dances in Joseph are horrid for her injuries. But the show must go on, ya know?
Much as I love Jack and can't wait for her play tonight, I guess I've gotta go work on these assignments. I expect however, even using 15 minutes at a time that I'll be back on here in about an hour because I'm just sick of working. So if you all could shot me an e-mail or a comment that basically tells me to get my arse back to work, that would be great. Oh, and because I need to shave my legs today (how often do I freaking mention that in here!?), I'm giving my dad my razor and not letting him give it back to me until I show him that I've finished at least two rough drafts of assignments. I *might* post them in Inspired (link in the sidebar) especially number 12.

Love always,
Vickey