Standing on the Edge

It's 2 a.m. and I can't sleep. It's September 23rd of 2013 and I'm falling to pieces and broken to bits by life. There's nothing else to it. It's painful, with these jagged edges and bruised soul, hurting and unable to stop hurting; for whenever I do, I accidentally bump into myself and tear open whatever was healing.

But I'm not sure I would change it. 

I have never had an aching in my chest for this long or felt like life is unbearable to this degree before. I have never taken such comfort in the beauty of the moonlight before or lay on the road and gotten lost in the stars like I have lately. Now, there's nothing more precious to me than the simple sound of nature or the scratching of pen against paper or having someone to lean into when goddammit I can barely stand.

I'm standing on the edge of myself
                                                   And it's beautiful.

There's something to be said for having oneself torn apart. All the words of truth and all the beauty scratched out, pulled apart and rewritten. When everything one held as true in this world falls apart and melts in one's hands, whatever is left is so achingly beautiful in it's endurance that at times it takes one's breath away.

"It's when you're breaking down with your insides coming out
                                             That's when you find what your heart is made of..." ~Switchfoot

Somehow, despite everything, I am holding parts of myself I would have never thought still existed, or ever would. The parts of me I fought hard for, loving beyond measure and hoping when there is nothing to hope for and a faith that might not move mountains, but can withstand any disaster thrown at it, are still standing, rising up from the ruins of who I was. Amongst the rubble and ashes, those seeds have begun to push their way up.

One thing I always desired, cried over when the moon hit just right and all the magic that could be brushed up against my soul, was to have an epic story. I wanted to be a queen who fought for her people and ruled with justice and mercy, her reign benefiting the peasant and the lord. Screw math problems; I wanted to be out slaying evil monsters and saving those who couldn't save themselves. I wanted to be hated because of what a threat I was to everything evil and wicked in this world.

If I had never been broken, I would have never come to realize that I have a story like that waiting for me to write it, with myself as the protagonist. I may not ever get the righteous king to stand beside me and love me for the same reasons I love him. I may not ever get the chance to swing a sword and watch something of pure evil topple, but I can go out and live like I am the leader of a country, with a nation of people to guide and protect. I may never be able to travel the world and traverse mountains, but there's plenty where I am now to explore and discover, I just have to learn to open my eyes.

I may never be able to wield magic or dance with Fae or speak with trees, but I have the ability to write, to create stories and possibly transport someone to a place where they can live, if only for a little bit, and that's the best magic of all.

All I needed to see the sun rising within me, daring me to shine with whatever I can, was to stand on the edge of me and chance a fall.

Perk-Ups

Life can suck. I mean full-on holy whoa Where is my door to Narnia because then it isn't my world falling apart and at least there's some hope?! I've had some sucky, and not so sucky, days lately. Sometimes I just lay on my bed staring at my ceiling. But other times I found my way to A-Ok through some possibly weird ways that worked. Here's some you might want to try if Life is bombarding you with cows.

1. Sit there and listen to hilarious breakup songs. I don't care if you weren't broken up with, have never been broken up with, are actually happily in love. Remember the hilarious part, otherwise you might sit there getting even more upset. No listening to "I miss you so so much. You were the one for me! I just want you back!" No. Not even if you just went through that. No. 

Here's some examples:

50 Ways to Say Goodbye 
Smile - Lily Allen

Not much, I know, but I couldn't remember the ones I listened to... Also, angry break up songs (Taylor Swift has two great ones by the way).

2. Watch Rhett and Link videos
 
This also works really well with a friend. Laughter will come no matter what, but with a friend it's just great. We winded up taking dibs on them only to notice wedding rings on their fingers. *GASP*. Our hearts were broken. But they fixed them by making us laugh.

If you're making the same face as Link, I'm with you

3. Lie on the floor.

No matter where you are. No matter what people may say. Just drop to the floor and lie there. This works especially well in bookstores.

I got this tip from one of my preschoolers. Whenever she doesn't want to do something and it becomes to unbearable, she doesn't throw a fit or scream or anything. She just *whomp* sprawls out on the floor and lays there. She doesn't get up unless she begins smiling right away.

(Okay. I actually had done that on a Barnes and Noble floor the day before I started up at work again. So the tip isn't from her, but I do completely agree with her methods. But shhhh. Don't tell the other T.A.s)

4. Roll around on your kitchen floor moaning about the most ridiculous things (unless your bad day is due to NOT having a kitchen floor). So nothing that's really the problem. If you are so busy and stresses about everything, I promise you, this will work. Once you get over any rolling on kitchen floor issues you have.

5. Talk to preschoolers.

Preferably ones you don't live with, as they can also be really cruel.

I was really tired and getting grumpy when I overheard a conversation between two girls in my class.

G1: I have to show you a picture. *shows last year's class picture* That's him.
G2: You loved him?
G1: Yeah. I have two husbands. I love them both. They are both named ___.
G2: *eyes widen*
G1: Two husbands with the same name! What is wrong with me? I need to fix my life!

Okay, so I am old enough to be your (young) mom, but I am not married to two guys with the same name (although that solves the accidentally saying the wrong name issue. She's smarter then we all think). So thus, it's all good. Also, I like the ABC cookies, so no throwing fits over having to eat something I don't like.

6.  Make faces at random strangers to see their reactions.

This should be self-explainable.

7. Watch old Disney shows. It's good to remember those good days of Disney Channel. There truly is something about Disney.

8. Watch Disney movies and sing the songs at the top of your lungs. Or just listen to the songs. My adopted little sister (who isn't really adopted. She still belongs to her birth mother. As far as I know anyway...) taught me this.

9. Watch Hercules and yell at the awful mythology.

(for starters, it should be Heracles. Yeahhh...)

10. Don't read my blog. It is so awful you'll just get more depressed. In fact you are probably crying right now.

A hamster chewing on your bad day

Writerly Misery

I was thinking about relationships in books. Books nowadays don't like to focus on friendships. They don't really focus on family. They focus on some person to fall in love with. I kinda want to kick them all. I want the rawness of friendship. I want the issues families bring and some healing.

Then I thought further about the dumb relationship thing. Girls find themselves in guys. It's ridiculous. I want a book about a break up and a girl finding herself without the guy. The only book I can think of with a break-up would be Twilight. I don't think that counts as what I want...



So that doesn't leave me with much.

Guess what I do when something like that happens.

I WILL WRITE IT!!! I declare as I jump up and throw a fist up in the air.

Then I sit and go "What have I done??" Because do I really want to think about another writing project right now? Yes, no, maybe? I already have so many wonderful characters. They already have me sitting there weeping over the keyboard because holy owls, their stories are so awful. Do I really want to do this to myself?

Yes, Yes I do.

I don't really want the heartache and heart break of yet another character sweeping over me and drowning me, but to be able to craft a story that might touch someone's heart and give them what they are looking for, I will put myself through writerly misery. There's something wonderful about knowing I can tell stories and have characters I care about. I have others who care about them, too. If I can talk about them and have people's emotions involved, I can write about them, surely.

I will also put myself through weird looks from people as I cry over a breakup that's not my own. And as I flap around in public making sad noises because I just realized even more tragedy. And as I begin swimming in different ways to figure out how they sing. And when I say "I like your shirt. One of my characters has something like it."

exactly

If I Were a Boy

Original Plan: Make a list of ridiculous things I would have done if my father had bothered to give me the Y chromosome (instead, his stupid sperm was a stupid X. And why do I know genetics??).

What happened: Went on Facebook, saw something entitled "44 Reasons Why You're Chandler Bing" (http://www.buzzfeed.com/fivezaj/44-reasons-why-youre-chandler-bing-a8zp). Sat there reading them  going, yeah. I am Chandler Bing. Minus the bubble bath thing. I hate baths. Especially one with bubbles. I'd probably sit there looking like a cat with a shoe string.

I then decided that if I were a boy, I would be Chandler.

 

Final Plan: Tell what happened when I went to blog, then give ridiculous list anyway.

The List:

1. I would pee off mountains.

    Let's face it, as a female hiking can suck. Sure, the rocks are awesome to scramble over and the view is gorgeous and hiking can be the best place for inspiration, but when something tickles the bladder, I'm dancing around trying my best to hold it in for the next six hours. Peeing ain't fun. It's annoying and obnoxious Then, to make it worse, those guys I went with go prancing up the mountain, tell me to wait, and then scream to the land as they happily pee off the mountainside. Just because they can. Meanwhile I'm still dancing around secretly looking for a huge tree and wishing I had that freedom. So, yes, male me would be peeing off mountains all the freaking time.

Then there are goats. Who pee on mountains whenever in the heck they feel like it.

2. I would drive naked.
   
    Apparently a friend of mine did this. And because he was a guy, he got away with it. I am female. I have these ridiculous things called breasts. They make it completely inappropriate to drive without anything on top at all. Unless I'm in France. And, frankly, I don't really want to be entirely topless. But if I were a guy, I could drive around without a top and be comfortable doing so. And pray to God I didn't get into an accident where the police people showed up and I had to explain why the ambulance people pulled me out of the car in the nude.

3. I would have a hot girlfriend (read explanation please)

     I was lying on my friends' floor staring up at my legs when I announced that I want to be a guy so I can stroke my girlfriend's legs and they will be amazingly smooth and soft because she shaves, unlike my sometimes hairy self. Then my friend turned around and looked at me thoughtfully. Then said, as if it were a great epiphany that explained the world, "if you were a guy, your girlfriend would be HOT".
   
4. I would be an amazing boyfriend.
    My mom told me this. After I told her how if she weren't my mother I would slow dance with her at a Lumineers' concert then go on a moonlit walk by the river, followed by a mini-picnic.
   Either that or I'd make a pretty remember-able one-night stand (or whatever the asexual version of that is called).

5. I would wear my pants NOT saggy.

6. I would wear NOT SKINTIGHT pants.

Technically these fit 5. and 6. But um...

7. No parachute pants either

8. I would secretly cry during tear-jerkers
    Because as a guy, I would somehow be more sensitive than I am now.

9. I would have a beard. And a unibrow. Preferably those crazy wizard ones.

Like this.

   
10. And a mustache.

like this

11. I would go through the sci-fi section in Barnes and Noble and not get weird looks from employees.
   
    I guess females aren't allowed there or something? Unless they are gushing to their husbands about the book on smoothies they just found for half-off and OHMYWORD THERE IS KALE!!

12. Most importantly: I would hit on girls with ridiculous pick-up lines just for fun. Not to actually pick them up or anything, just to be awkward and say I did.

 

But I am a girl. And that's pretty cool too.


And that's a wrap!

When Bookstores Lost Their Souls

Once Upon a Time, possibly in a land far far away for some of you, there lived a girl. Or maybe not a girl. She was at that odd age of 18 where nothing makes any sense and everyone is a conglomerate of everything. Especially her. So this person inhabiting Earth... She loved to read. It was the one thing she never truly tired of. Reading was the only thing she could be addicted to. Her money was squandered on books. She invested much too much time into it, ignoring family, friends, and a dedicated (and soon well-trained) boyfriend-person. Once she possessed a license (issued to her, of course), she would drive herself over to a bookstore after a particularly hard week/day/hour and be able to breathe for a change. Never did she tire of wandering through aisle upon aisle of books.

Then one day, the impossible happened.

Down an aisle she went, her eyes merely skipping from title to title. What used to be a journey of an hour was over in minutes. On to the next aisle she went, each shelf brimming with unread, possible untouched paper and beautiful covers. Again, her feet found their way out of the shelves much too quickly. Frustrated, she hurried over to the other end of the store. Perhaps there lay titles and books and stories to calm the growing sense of dread in her stomach.

Her unease grew and grew as she traversed aisle after aisle, section after section, until she stood in center of the store, feeling like a belly button. Useless and unloved. Once she had had a purpose, but no more. Maybe she was more of an appendix than a belly button. Defeated and feeling hopelessly dejected, the person inhabiting Earth fled the building to hide from the emptiness in her car.

How, how had this happened? Where did all the books of interest go? She didn't want vampires. She didn't want sex and passion. She didn't want to merely dip her toes into a story. She wanted to be immersed in one; up to her head in the words and characters and worlds until nothing could take her away from the space between the letters. Why did that space disappear?

But it had. She felt it. As she roamed the aisle, she could feel the lack of soul in the books surrounding her.

The fantasy had dwindled in size. Those, the heart and soul of so many magic seekers, had kept her alive during middle school. She needed them now as everyone told her grown-ups don't believe in fairy tales. But those were gone. As were the books about friendship. Stories she could grasp in her fingers and watch bloom like morning glories. Even Tolkien's section was small. A collection of his trilogy. No Children of Hurin, no Silmarillion. Just space mourning it's true purpose. Lewis was completely absent from the shelves.

There was nothing left for her in bookstores anymore. Nothing to capture her desires and whisk her away from this reality of hers.

This person inhabiting Earth felt as if someone had reached a clawed hand into her chest and ripped her heart out. What would life be without this sacred place of hers?

She wanted to give up. To curl up in a ball and cry over pages of Narnia, wishing even more vehemently than before, for some of that wonderful tree to have been used in the making of her closet. To stare desolately at the night sky and beg any entity who would listen to change this tragedy.

But she didn't lose hope. Surely, there were other girls like her out there. Boys, too. Both young and young at heart. She couldn't be the only one in this world with a desire for more than the potato chips being offered by authors. Someone else had to be wondering what happened to creating five-course meals with depth and richness.

So she drove home, her chin raised in defiance and her eyes set. Once home she knelt before her bookshelf, tugged a notebook from where it was nestled, and opened it. The blank pages became her hope. Between the lines of faded blue a story could be written, one about friendship and loyalty and the questions everyone must face at some point. Or maybe even one just for laughs, with real people who don't just fall in love but are pure human.

And so, she began to pour her soul onto paper hoping one day to bring bookstores back their souls.

I am a Delinquent

Adventure Time with Autumn, Jesse, and Samuel! OR My Run-In with the Cops

The three of us decided that we didn't want to go home right away after eating out on Tuesday. So I suggested we go to a park I used to play tennis at and loved. We drove over, parked the car, I threw the keys at The Boy (I had no pockets), then we wandered over to the playground.

That was great fun. Outside of when I managed to slam my elbow on a metal bar. WE did a tire swing, slid down some pretty fun slides, climbed up a dragon. There were these things with cut-out faces, so I was a knight and the guys were princesses. At one point I thought Samuel was at the bottom of the playground, then saw boots above my head and freaked out. He moves scarily fast at times, I learned.

Then we went over to the wooden set and just sat and talked. Samuel and I have a story together, so we discussed that. Then we talked about weird (bad) impulses we have (Swerving into things with the car, stabbing things, kissing people) but don't give in to.

We were talking about church (ironically enough), when a car drove into the parking lot. J said it looked like a cop car. S went "it better not be." I thought "why would a cop be here? There are strip clubs elsewhere in the city." Then a light appeared, moving across the playground until it landed on us.

Not knowing what to do - it's not like we have police hunting us down on a regular basis - and because we had nothing to hide, we just sat there waiting to see what happened. Two cops happened, with huge flashlights flashing all over us and the area surrounding us.

Cop 1: So, what are you kids doing here?

Me: Just hanging out. I used to take tennis here and wanted to come back. Weird time, I know, but I miss this place.

Cop 1: You guys in school or anything? *begins completely searching every spare bit of mulch under where we are sitting, so he says this kinda off-handedly.*

Cop 2: *shines the light in each of our faces trying to blind us*

J: *shakes head*

M: Yeah. RCC.

S: Yup

Cop 1: Where are you guys from?

Cop 2: *stands there glaring at us like we just stole the coveted donut*

S: Five minutes up the street.

J: New Jersey

M: __(my town)_____

Cop 1: Do you have i.d. on you?

M: In my car.

S and J: Same

Cop 2: *points at S* You come with me.

S goes with Cop 2, probably trying really hard not to begin screaming as they walk away.

Cop 1: You are aware that I can arrest you, right?

J: *shakes his head* (ALSO: having a mini-heart attack. I was honestly surprised he didn't just begin gurgling the last few breaths of his life)

M: Nope.

Cop 1: Were you guys smoking anything tonight?

M: (trying hard not to laugh) Nope

Cop 1: Have you ever smoked anything before?

J: No, sir.

M: (IN MY HEAD: We are the most straight-edge people ever! J freaks out if he goes a mile above the speed limit!!) (some laughter snuck in) No.

Cop 1: Have you ever gotten in trouble before?

J: Well, I, um, got some speeding tickets.

M: *trying not to be completely sarcastic* Noooo.

Cop 1: Well, I'm going to have to see your id.

M: It's in my car. (like I already told you, you freaking numb-skull.)

As the three of us walk to my car, we pass Cop 2 and S. S has his arms straight out at his side. I seriously considered finding a way to protest the pat down. But I figured I better not convince this cop I was actually doing drugs. 

We get to the car, J takes out my keys and unlocks the car. We get our driving stuff, hand it to the guy.
 He comments on the fact I just got my license before telling us to take a seat and wait for him. So we chill in the car. I laugh as J fidgets like he really is on drugs. I am on the verge of hitting my head against the steering wheel when the guy comes back.

Cop 1: I need your addresses.

Despite the fact that he has them in his hand, we give them to him.

Cop: What's you social security number?

M: *opens mouth to say it. Can't remember. Makes a face like he asked me to take my shirt off*

Cop 1: That's fine then. I'll need your height and weight.

I don't know this either. So I made up some numbers.

Then he asks J and J tells him.

We wait some more.

S joins us.

S: Thankfully I remembered that I had the pocket knife in my pocket. How was your guy?

M: Well, we apparently can get arrested.

S: Yeah, I heard. Which would be ridiculous!

We go on like that until the cops come back and hand us our id's. There's  some strange green sheet wrapped around it. Oh beaver dam's made out of fudge.

Cop 1: You guys don't seem too suspicious (Oh really. We are three non-scary - or I am anyway. Unfortunately - straight-edge kids who get excited about church and have long conversations about God and stuff like that. Two of us are the biggest freaking nerds out there. One is wearing a classic video game shirt. We don't seem suspicious at all!), so we aren't taking you away in handcuffs down to the station. But we could. Instead you'll have to show up for court.

M: *glancing at the time and date* I have school. I can't miss my classes.

Cop 1: If you miss court there will be a warrant out for your arrest. You can try to reschedule, but I suggest talking to your teachers (Cause that won't be awkward at all). Don't do this again. *walks away*

I look down at the paper further. Out charges?

"Parks after Dark".

We have to go to court for something that sounds like Dr. Suess pretended to be a cop. And if we can't pay $100-$500, we get 15 days of jail. That will be fun to explain to anyone looking at our records.



What is my life?

Having to be an Adult. And Failing.

I have decided I hate the age of 18. I will probably hate 19 and 20 for the same reasons.

All summed up: I'm a teenager and an adult at the same time. "Have fun, live your life, be reckless and stupid while you can!" on one hand. On the other... "You're an adult now. Be mature. Know what you are doing with your life. Stop making mistakes. And ohmygoodness, stop acting like a child."

I kinda want to go around kicking all the people who expect me to suddenly Have It All Together. Sure, it's months into being 18, but I'm still just as confused as before. More actually. Pre-"Adult" Me knew what she was doing. "I'm going to try to transfer to Fordham for psychology and theatre after two years at community college." Right there, pretty simple.

Now: "Erm... I think I'll minor in theatre? Maybe? Um... Listen. Okay. I'm just hoping to NOT fail my road test again. We'll see about the rest of my life once I know how to NOT hit the curb, okay? Okay. Now, leave me alone." Then I make some disgruntled face and stomp away. Obviously, I am very Adult.

My lack of Adult-ness becomes the most apparent to me at work.

Scenario 1: The kids are playing with Legos
        Whenever anyone else goes to the table: "Guys, no shooting the guns. ____ don't grab. etc etc."
         When I go to the Table: *digs through the container looking for Indiana Jones. Enslaves the Little Children to build a Temple and Create an Army. Noises resembling Mass Destruction.* *Pulls out Darth Vador* "Luke, I am your father!" *lightsaber sounds*

Scenario 2: Playground Time
         Everyone Else: *Stands by and watches. Scolds "wild" kids*
         Me:  "I'll race you to the slide!" *forms an obstacle course*

Scenario 3: Difficult Child
         Everyone Else: "_____, stop it! Don't hit/punch/kick/make raspberries/yell/whatevertheheckyouaredoingatthemoment
         Me: (in head) I will NOT lick him. I will NOT sit on him. I will NOT engage in similar activities like the bratty older sibling I am. And I will NOT threaten to  lock him in a cabinet.
        Admittedly, not the best reaction to begin with, but I have five younger siblings and have thus come up with various ways to respond to an Evil Younger Child. I just used the basement instead of a cabinet. Which worked very well. My sister never hit me again after that.

Something I would just LOVE to do some days

Then comes school. College. Big People (I feel Extremely Young whenever I walk into a room).

Most people can sit there and sit still and have good posture. Unless I am falling asleep, I am bouncing around in my seat or kicking my feet or rearranging myself on the seat challenging the known ways a human body sit on that tiny of an amount of space. If I were a preschooler, I would be in a class for kids with behavioral issues.

And you know what? I like it this way. I have fun at my job because of it. I am entertained easily and thus rarely bored (except when I am stuck at the library and WILL NOT be satisfied until I lie on the floor and begin chanting). I don't need to spend money to have tons of fun. Sure, I have no idea where my life is going. I can't sit down with anyone and say "Okay. Advise me." because what is there to advise without laying my whole life out for me? And God only knows how I would rebel against that. And that's fine. It's awesome actually.

Maybe I'll go off and be a Lost Girl in Never Never Land. I'll fight pirates with Peter Pan (and teach him some manners in the process), join the Indian pow-wows, and maybe, just maybe, get a little bratty fairy/pixie of my own.