no chance of walking away without a scratch

graduation day is rapidly approaching but surprisingly, this post will in no way be dedicated to that topic today. instead, i'll recant the dream i had last night. it was more of a d list horror movie mash up and i was horribly confused when i woke up, as i usually am. it starts off with me on a giant cruise ship headed toward an island with a group of other vacationers. the ship was abnormally huge and had horrible steering capabilities. eventually the ship ungracefully beached itself on land and people jumped out in a disorderly fashion. i got out and found my way to the swanky resort at which i was staying. i set my things down and looked out the window. it was then i noticed that this was not any sort of paradise. menacing clouds and angry locals were rampant and it started hailing as i turned my back to the window. i rifled through my belongings, finally finding my cell phone. i tried calling home but the phone wouldn't even turn on. i then decided to bite the bullet and accept all long distance charges and use the hotel phone, but that didn't work either. at this point, i was becoming very unsettled. i was alone on this island and i barely brought anything with me. as it was, i only brought bathing suits and no real clothes but i had the forethought of wearing sneakers, somehow all the while forgetting a pair of pants. i left the room hurriedly and ran down the fire escape stairs for no apparent reason. i could have easily got on the elevator. anyway, i got to the lobby and saw that it had stopped hailing but the sky was a dark and unfriendly grey while the water under it churned with wave after wave. i asked a hotel desk clerk where the nearest train station was. why i would ask that question is beyond me but that's the beauty of my dreams- they make no sense. he pointed in the general direction of where the station was and i just started running, something i'd be doing a lot of for the rest of the time. i ran through the resort grounds and eventually hit the train station. i got on the next train i saw and it was probably the worst decision i made. not only was hannibal lecter on this train, but so was a young man who claimed to be my stalker, an old man with his brain exposed, and a horribly unhelpful train conductor. i took a seat on the train, which was actually a subway car but you could walk through the cars like you can in LIRR cars. so i sat there and watched hannibal lecter walk through the train car door and just stare at each person on the train for about a minute each. he was blatantly holding a large knife and no one seemed to mind but me. i don't know what set him off but he started yelling and ran through the opposite door and just kept going. i was glad to not have him in my car. next, a young fat man who looked a little bit retarded came up to me- again with a large knife- and said he'd been watching me since i was eleven years old. he said he had a gift for me and gave me a handful of what looked like corned beef and just smiled at me and stared. he kept trying to hold my hand or hug me and i kept dodging each attempt. he finally left me alone and took his corned beef with him. at this point hannibal lecter came back into the car i was in and looked like he wanted trouble. the car seemed to have gotten longer so i had more time to think about what action i was going to take. then, an old man in a creaky wheel chair appeared at the opposite end of the car as hannibal. his brain was seeping out of a large open area in his skull and he had the look of a brain damaged person, understandably. i took his chair and gave it a good push toward hannibal and he was taken out by a comatose man in a wheel chair. the train stopped and i pried open the doors and jumped out. it was night time at that point and the area around me didn't look developed at all. there was one paved trail going through a wily array of vines, trees, and enormous plants. i kept running in hopes of finding something when a local in face paint jumped out at me. i screamed and stopped running and he informed me i was running a marathon and would be timed. i would be spared if my time was under eight minutes. i frantically asked what was going on and after getting no answers i just started sprinting toward a finish line i couldn't distinguish. i started to see a few more people running in the same direction and my hope was renewed. soon, the trail was all uphill and i knew i must have been passed twenty minutes. the last push was up a flight of uneven stairs and there was a girl who barked "7:38" at me. i knew she screwed up her timer because there was no way i made it in under eight minutes. i looked around to see if anyone noticed and just cooly walked away from that scene, grateful for that girl's stupidity. i walked through the resort grounds again which were extensive and seemed to take an hour or two. by the time i made it to the lobby, it was dawn and i saw the same cumbersome ship pull up to land. my parents jumped off the boat and started running toward me which is a rare occurrence, especially for my dad considering the man doesn't run at all. he hugged me and asked if i was alright. i answered with an "absolutely not" and we got on a private plane that appeared pretty much out of nowhere. my parents told me they were sorry for ever letting me come to this place and that i'd be okay. we took off and i looked down at that horrible place and then back to the familiar faces of my parents, all the while still just wearing a bikini and sneakers.

drive all over town

i was somewhat disappointed in the lack of originality in my dream last night, but it was still pretty odd and random. as per usual, there's no starting point- i'm just suddenly driving my dad's car, a mint green ford 500, to the dealership. it was sunny and i felt relaxed even though i was about to do something terribly stupid. i drive through a familiar area and arrive at the ford dealership my dad got the car from. i get out of the car and walk into the building, asking to speak to a sales representative. i continue to state that i wish to sell my dad's car to them immediately. for some reason, probably because it was a dream, the sales rep accepts my offer and takes the car key out of my hand. i then decide to buy my dad a ford dealership shirt, thinking this purchase would make up for the fact that i just sold his car without any discussion and seemingly on a whim. i walked home with a tee shirt in place of a car and ran into my mom. the second i saw her, it hit me. i got rid of my dad's car and my dad loves cars, especially his. i remember feeling panicked and nervous, like a little kid who just dropped their bowl of ice cream topped with chocolate syrup on the brand new carpet. even though the difference between a wall with sloppy crayon drawings on it and a missing car is quite large, the feeling was the same- i did something dumb and i thought of the consequences way too late. i woke up from this dream sweaty and thinking i was going to be in a huge amount of trouble. after the sleepy fog lifted, i realized the only thing i had done wrong was sleep a few minutes late and would need to rush to catch a train.

fuel for the hate game

there's one concept i have never seemed to grasp- the notion of not caring. i don't understand how or why it's "cool" to not care about anything or anyone. how could that possibly boost someone's image or social standing? the whole "i don't give a fuck" attitude isn't endearing or charming. it's a red flag to others telling them that that particular person is socially inept and most likely self important. it's wonderful to be confident but it's simply irritating to be cocky. i strive for deeper and stronger connections with the ones i care about. for the most part, the people i care about do the same. i can't imagine a life full of yeah's, sure's, okay's, whatever's, and fine's. i thrive on something more meaningful and sincere. i prefer i love you's, i hate you's, absolutely's, and absolutely not's. there's a definitive passion in people that are aware of those around them. lots of people have this "holier than thou" complex. the joy of being human and having this in depth thought process is that we can appreciate differences among us yet everyone seems so resistant to utilize this. what makes their opinions, likes/dislikes, and hobbies so much better than everyone else's? if you like to skydive, that's cool. i personally like being in the ocean rather than the sky but if that's what you're into- awesome, not my place to judge. you like filet mignon? great, i prefer chilean sea bass but we can totally agree to disagree and manage to have an intelligent conversation on something other than our surf or turf preferences. you listen to flo rida, garth brooks, and the doors? fine by me, just don't ram your favorite bands down my throat and i'll appreciate where you're coming from. in return i expect people to not hear what i listen to and scoff at my taste. it makes for an uncomfortable and unnecessary situation. these are simple things that make a big difference. one person is no better than another because of their scene or opinions. it's just part of what makes that person up. it doesn't always have to be this big tug of war between whose thoughts are cooler than the other's. i feel like all people care about now is how they look in the eyes of their peers rather than caring about them. it seems a bit backwards to me. i've been guilty of this myself in the past but the difference here is that i acknowledge it. there are numerous individuals out there that truly, deeply think that they are always right and their way is the only way. that's a frightening fact. not caring seems like a lonely world filled with insecurity, shitty relationships with the people around you, and a pent up anger at seemingly nothing. i'm not saying hug every stranger you see, but maybe put some more effort towards showing the company you keep that you'd actually like to keep them. besides caring, these are some other things that make me happy.

uniquely decorated mugs, making my own typefaces, running at night, free shipping and handling, woody harrelson, finishing a project and actually liking it, craisins, rag magazines.

take the wheel and steer

my spring break has come and gone quite fast and even though i didn't go away on vacation or to cancun or something else cliche, i still enjoyed it. just taking a break from manhattan and school was all i needed. i did a lot of work, but not having to go into the city made all the difference. i was able to get two of my closest friends in the same place for an old school sleep over, complete with home made pizza and chocolate milk. though our tastes have changed from extra cheese pizza to shrimp and zucchini pizza and instead of pancakes, we prefer coffee and oatmeal with cranberries- we are essentially the same exact people we were when we are together. the three of us reverted back to how we were in high school and we laughed so hard at the same six to eight year old jokes. it was an alcohol and drug free night, but we acted like we were out of our minds which is always how it was years ago. it was refreshing, to say the least. the weather during break did not look promising in the beginning, but by wednesday things started to look bright. honestly, all i need is sunlight. i spent the early part of my days from then on in running outside, longboarding, and just being outside even if it meant taking all my homework with me. my sister and i went out to greenport and orient together and had a spectacular time. we left by 11am and got back home at around 6:30pm. we laughed a lot, had tasty wraps, walked around the town, and got some gourmet candy for the ride home. i had no idea they made gourmet orange slices so i was all over the two the store had left. i also took a lot of reference photos for one of my projects which was perfectly timed since the sun was out and it was the right time of day to take said pictures. i got at least five trucks to honk at my car dancing and almost caused my sister to run the car off the road because she was laughing so hard at my pure stupidity. i also found out that tara can not pump her own gas. i ripped her apart for that one. i feel lucky that i have a sibling that i can really get along with. we're polar opposites for the most part except for our humor and the fact that we love each other unconditionally. we have the dumbest jokes that no one understands but us and we tell each other we hate each other casually. as much as we bitch about the other, we are fortunate that we have a good relationship and can look at spending a day with one another in a positive light.

another thing i did over break was send out my resume to a lot of different companies. the chance that any of these places will call me back is highly unlikely, but i figured i should at least get my name in their systems now even before i graduate. it really hit me that i'm going to be a real live grown up soon and instead of being nervous, i smile at the thought of starting something completely new. i have no idea where i'll be in a year from now and i actually like that. there are so many roads i could go down and maybe i'll go down a lot of them. of course, my nerves flare up a little bit as anyone's would but the overriding feeling through this whole process has been a positive one. i can't wait to start whatever it is i'll be doing. it's bizarre and invigorating at the same time. to continue with this string of good things, here's my happy list.

music that fits a particular mood, car rides, quality time with whoever, letting go of inhibition, throwing caution to the wind, gourmet orange slices, taking care of myself first and foremost, old dogs, standing on a rotting dock, the sense of possibility, being productive, milking the day for all it's worth, driving with all the windows open, meaningful conversations, not so meaningful conversations.

all is ash or the light shining through it

it's one of those days again- rainy, slightly chilly, windy, and with no sign of it letting up. i made myself get out of bed because if i stay in it on days like these, i end up feeling worse- especially if i'm the only person in said bed. it's always been apparent to me that i am weather driven person, but on stormy days like these where there is no one around and only work to do- i notice it even more. i opened my window and trying to enjoy the smell of the rain at least. the only prospect of today is really just to do a ton of work that i have no desire to do. i'm always afraid everything i do will not come out the way i'd like it to. i have a picture in my head of exactly what i want to produce and somehow the execution of that vision is near impossible. i don't know what it is about my head and my hands that don't connect sometimes. the only solution i can readily see is to keep going forward with it until it becomes what i want it to be. will it ever be what i want it to be?

having a plan, homemade pizza, food blogs, relating to a set of lyrics by the word, being able to say i'm finished with a project, greenport, my hair after i unravel braids, sweating so much that it drips down my forearms, good weather, iced green tea from panera, the giant tree behind my house, honesty, renting movies, taking my makeup off, love.

buried close together in the cemetery weather

fear is a powerful force. it can make us act or stay paralyzed, do or not do. it's one of the most primal emotions and is able to take an infinite amount of forms. the scale of fear ranges from miniscule to enormous. it affects those young and old and middle aged. basically, it's something none of us can escape. we all have to deal with it at different points in time and none of us like it. i don't think i know anyone who claims they can deal with fear perfectly. it causes us to stumble over our own feet and second guess our actions. i deal with fear in a myriad of ways. i get aggressive, agitated, and defensive. i'll stand my ground on shaky feet until the feeling is gone. another mechanism i use to deal with fear is to go somewhat catatonic. i shut myself off from everything and everyone- no phone calls, no internet, no text messages. i will barely even talk to my family. i'll project everything inward until the threat has passed which can take anywhere from three days to three weeks to three months. the age old way of dealing with fear though, is to pretend like it's not there. this is quite possibly the biggest mistake you can make. you have to acknowledge whatever it is before you can move passed it. it's important to understand exactly what it is that fills you fear and then you need to get acclimated to how you may handle the threat or situation arising. avoidance achieves nothing. it only dulls the pang of anxiety and prolongs the chance of feeling the same way again. everyone has a different tool belt of coping mechanisms that seem to work for them individually.

it's time to list my fears:

mutilation of the face or body, amputation of any limbs, paralysis, being severely burned, having something happen to my eyes or tongue, losing my teeth, anything that could potentially leave me deformed in any way, blindness, insects, suffering a long and painful death, dealing with a natural disaster, the ocean at night, being rejected and made to feel small time after time, being less than what you want to be, not mattering to anyone, not making a difference, being sexually abused, what really happens when we die, the future, the past, the fate of my mother, father, and sister, small spaces, having to let go of something, suffocating, drowning, things that are far larger than i am, getting stuck under a floating dock, change, the ending of things.

every little memory has a song

two nights ago i had another one of my classically odd dreams. it could have been fever induced being that i've been sick the passed few days but since i usually have these wild subconscious visions of grandeur, i'm more inclined to say that the fever had nothing to do with it. the main part of the dream dealt with me and my dad. he kept trying to get me to come down the stairs of a dock in the water right off a bridge. i was doing fine until i got closer to the water and saw how dark it was. it looked like oil spilled in the sea. my dad kept motioning me to come closer, saying it was fine and i had nothing to be afraid of. despite his reassurance i started to cry and panic, grabbing onto the railing of the dock stairs and holding on until my knuckles turned white. i told my dad i couldn't do it, i couldn't possibly get into the blackness of the water. he told me i had no choice and that the only way we could get home was to swim out to a jetty about fifty feet away from the dock and get on a row boat that was tied up there. he kept telling me that i had to do this and that it was just the way things were and that i would be alright. i don't remember if i ever got into the water with my dad, but i remember waking up and feeling shaken but reassured that my dad was just pushing me for my own good. in reality, my dad can't even swim. i think that this dream in particular enforces the fact that parents, namely my dad, push their kids to do their best. my dad has always been doing that with me and i can't thank him enough for it. i can remember being at the beach at age six and learning how to boogie board. he stayed on shore, obviously, but every time i got spat up by the ocean, mouth full of sand and sea water- he told me to get back in there and catch another wave. eventually, i got the hang of it and was proud of myself. whenever i feel like i can't do some task at hand, he is the one pushing me almost to an annoying degree. he never made winning or being the best an issue. it was always just a matter of trying your personal best and doing every possible thing you could and if i ended up not being the greatest or failing, he would still reward me because he knew i busted my ass for something. both my parents have always stressed the act of trying to me. try your best, try new things, try to be a better person, try harder. these are some of the most valuable lessons i've learned thus far. i usually attempt to push myself whether it be physically or mentally. if i can manage lifting five pounds more of weight, i'll try another five. if i have to write 500 to 700 words, i'll aim for 700- and if i fail at these things, which happens, i know i won't feel horrible about it because it wasn't for lack of trying. here's a happy list for good measure.

using the sun as a blanket, running outside, getting a package you've been waiting for in the mail, recalling childhood memories, quality time with my family, spying on rabbits in my backyard, thinking about places i'd like to visit, picturing what my future house will look like, not feeling sick, hugs, songs that remind me of certain seasons, pedicures, keeping both my windows wide open, bike riding.