rockstarjoker | Recent Entries

I'm still working on downloading all of my journal entries from Live Journal.

I'm in 2006- which was a very difficult year for me.

Looking back after 11 years, I'm shocked at how much I had erased, glazed over and forgiven.

Not that forgiving is such a bad thing, mind you, but the reason to forgive is because you've healed, not because the people who have wronged you were never going to change.

I was in college back then. I was secretly dating (and by dating, I mean screwing on the regular with no labels attached) my best friend, roommate, and eventual wife, and the stress of that was pretty bad. I was also going through either my first or second major nervous break down. This was the big one. I locked myself in my room, painted in my own blood, quit my school and my job and moved away from my parents.

No one really understood it at the time, and I was pretty terrified that I was insane. I was worried that this was going to be me every few years. I would build myself up, recover from the last break down just in time to have another one. It hasn't been that bad. It's not that I don't have them still, because I do. But I've learned how to manage them. Right now I'm going through something of one, but I've got help- I've got doctors and therapists and a wife (no more closet- yay!) so I haven't had to like, uproot my entire life or anything, even though my soul feels like its falling apart.

Looking back in this way, reading all of my horrible writing and cringing at how absolutely terrible I was, I have to be a little thankful that at least I've grown. I do wonder if I'll look back at the things I'm writing now in another decade and cringe about them, but what does it really matter? If it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. It doesn't matter how embarrassingly dorky or stupid I sound, because I'm still writing, and that's the only way to get better. It's also the only way to see where I was when i wrote it.

I wish I was one of those people who had a nice simple place to write- I write on tumblr, I write in my journal, Archive of Our Own, I write in a folder on my google drive, hell, I keep on mentioning writing on Myspace (can you believe that? Myspace!) back in the day. I write a million different kinds of things, some of them real, some of them nearly real, a lot of them complete and utter fantasy and I don't know if I could collect all of it if I ever needed to.

What I'm looking back and seeing right now is a girl who was looking forward and hoping for something better than what she had. She had dreams that I haven't accomplished. Dreams I still want, and dreams I don't know how to get. She had a lot of secrets- oh my god, the fucking vague posting on that journal. I am so fucking pissed at how much vague posting I did- I don't know what the hell I was talking about! Perhaps that's a good thing, maybe forgetting all of the petty squabbles of my past is helpful.

That being said, because I've let go of so many of my memories, reading over the mundanity of my life has reminded me that the lies I tell myself to go to sleep aren't always true.

Like, I love my parents. They are wonderful people and they do try to be good. That's all true. But as much as I try to make myself believe otherwise, I know that love does not equal trust, and just because they loved me doesn't mean they supported me.

There were things they should have done to protect me. There were questions they should have asked and there were actions they should have taken, and they didn't trust me enough to think that the big deals I was making over things were something to be concerned about.

Those were mistakes. They were unintentional mistakes by people who were just trying to love me and figure out how to do this whole parenting thing in the first place. And I was their first, and they were poor and depressed and navigating a world that looked a whole lot differently than the one they'd grown up in. The explanations are excuses, they're just factors in the decisions they made.

No one is perfect, and I'm not sitting here trying to cry to the world that my parents were terrible, they weren't. But they let a rapist take me to Tijuana unaccompanied. They let me sleep over at his house. They let me run away on more than one occasion, and when I was getting in trouble for things that weren't my fault, they weren't there for me. They love me and I don't doubt that, but love isn't enough to conquer all, and it couldn't conquer their fear of sticking up for me, for helping me, for guiding me.

Reading everything I was going through, I don't know why I wasn't hospitalized, institutionalized, medicated. I'm not saying any of that was the right thing, I just know that the right thing wasn't calling me a "problem child" and ignoring it. No wonder I just ignored what had happened to me and drank away my problems- it's what my family seemed to do.

We're not a bad family, really. We have scars because everyone has scars. We are in pain because everyone is in pain from time to time. Living is traumatic, and through all the mistakes we make, we always seem to find a way back to each other. That's the luckiest thing you can have- a family that you can always go to.

Being blessed or lucky is one thing. I make a point of trying to count my blessings because I have a tendency to get caught up in what I don't have (a good job, a fulfilling career, a baby for my wife or a nice car) and it's just not healthy. But there has to be a healthy middle point between being pissed about how terrible everything is all of the time and being naively grateful for everything you have. Just because there are good things it doesn't mean that you have to ignore the bad things completely. You can be grateful and determined to make things better.

So I've been going through my old entries from Live Journal to archive. When I say old, I mean really old. The one I'm going to post is from 2005. Aside from many cringe worthy opinions on pop culture (I didn't like Lonely Island at first and I DID apparently like James Franco- who is one of my sworn enemies- more on that some other time) There's just a whole lot of a very confused, very depressed closeted queer girl trying to figure herself out. Also, weird surveys. Here's one that ended up pretty funny (and also showcases my hilariously dated taste in music

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and answer the following questions with the names of tracks that play, in the order they come up

Q: What do you think of me, media player?
A: "Bitches"- Insane Clown Posse
Q: Will I have a happy life?
A: "Amphetamines"- eve 6
Q: What do my friends really think of me?
A: "Dangerous"- Michale Jackson
Q: Do people secretly lust after me?
A: "Everything you know is wrong"- Weird Al
Q: What should I do with my life?
A: Sunset Strip Bitch- Eve 6
Q: Why must life be so full of pain?
A:"Fight Fire with Fire" Metallica
Q: How can I maximize my pleasure during sex?
A: "Bad Habit"- the offspring
Q: Will I die happy?
A: The Reflecting God- Marylin Manson
Q: Can you give me some advice?
A: It's not a fashion statement, it's a deathwish- my chemical romance
Q: What do you think happiness is?
A: two beds and a coffee machine- savage garden
Q: What's my favorite fetish?
A: any time at all- the beatles

I'm downloading old entries from live journal and I came across this one from 2004 (when I was 18)

09:18 pm - A list of things to do
Here are some things I want to do before I die:

*get a tattoo
*Publish a book
*Become really rich
*Have REALLY good sex
*Date an actor
*Be on a Talk Show
*get fan mail
*become a groundling
*Visit Amsterdam
*Buy a Fucking Car
*Be some one's boss
*Become a congress woman
*Change to world
*Star in a movie
*Strip
*Gamble
*Be in a Porno
And last, but most importantly,
*think up a really mean name to call Christians

So... I'm not quite as invested in that last one (I just use "X-tians" cus I X out the Christ) but it looks like I've got a whole lot more to do!

(Lol, I have a feeling most of those are pretty impossible for me- but I would be happy to just screw an actor, and I could strip in the porno we make while doing it. That's enough for me. I just need to get Ben Affleck and/or Chris Pine on the line!)

Current Location: Work :/

I just went and looked at my last entry. FIVE years ago, my god!

I've been over at Tumblr most of the time, but why not make things more confusing and disjointed by stopping back here for a while?

Updates. Let's see...Let's see.

Well, I still live in the valley. But I'm liking it a lot more now that I'm in my own private apartment with just me and my wife.

That's right. me and my wife. After almost a year and a half, it's still pretty exciting to say that.

I'm still at that same job- almost six years now. I've gotten two promotions since then, but I really should have left a while ago.

Of course, I'm not going to get too down on myself- the last few years have been really hard, emotionally.

I've been dealing with an alcohol problem since I was... well I started drinking when I was 12, so I don't really know how long its been going on.

Too long, I guess that's a right answer.

I'm almost at my 90 day mark now, though, and there are a lot of things about being sober that I don't like- I'm afraid people are going to think I'm a stick in the mud- I'm not, I promise! I want everyone to have as much fun as possible. I'm just not allowed to have it anymore.

That sounds terrible. I'm trying to wash that sort of sourness out of my brain, but its hard. It's hard to have to admit that you can't go on living the way you've lived, that the things you were doing to survive aren't going to help you thrive, that things have to change.

I've always been afraid of change. But what I think I've learned is that things change whether you want them to or not, so you might as well be the one guiding it.

Married. Sober. Job... What else?

Oh. I wrote a book.

It's not a good one or anything. I got through the second edit and realized that I had absolutely no chance of publishing, so it's sitting in a file getting dusty- can books get dusty if they're electronic? E-Dust?

I'm alright with it, though. I'm working on a screenplay- well, a teleplay. A pilot for a television series.

I don't really know why I'm doing that. Because my degree is in screen writing, I guess.

My friends- I don't have very many- are all into writing. We've started talking about it again. One of them has this amazing stamina, even when she works two jobs or commutes like crazy or has a million things going on, she still wrote, wrote, wrote.

I don't have that drive. I mean, I have a drive- just not that one. She has this burning conviction that if she just keeps on working her ass off, eventually it will play out, she'll move into that world. She'll achieve her dreams.

I wish I was that- I don't want to say naive because I always feel like there's an implication of stupidity attached to that word, and this woman is anything but stupid. She is convinced. She is self assured, she is GOING to be what she wants- just nothing's worked out yet. I wish I had the confidence to feel that way, the courage to admit what I wanted out loud, the sheer bullheadedness to settle for nothing less.

But that's not me. I'm marginally talented, minorly interested and majorly lacking in connections. And I know it, that's where the problem is. I know that I'm only fantasizing about things going well for me. It would take a miracle- a no shit miracle- for all of the words I waste to turn into a career. Everyone and their mother is a writer now. It's great in that there are new voices out there (if you look for them- because you wouldn't know it if you only watch mainstream media) but it also reminds me that I'm nothing special.

I remember a story (though not well enough to recall the name, of course) where a character was gossiping about another character who wanted to be a writer, and they said "Well, she thinks she can write, but really she just knows how to type."

That's what I always think I am. I'm typing into the void, pretending that I might someday have an audience.

My audience is filled up of people like me, though, waiting for everyone else to come be their audience.

It's not so bad, really. This new thing I'm working on is fun. I'll show it to my friends at our next group. We'll take turns reading each other's stuff. It's not a career, sure, but it's a damn fine hobby.

Current Mood: blah
Current Location: Work :/

Ok, so ever sincd I've been reading

delia 's blog, I've been really into the idea of donating blood.

I'm not squeemish about blood, and really, would love to be a phlebotomist [but I heard they don't really make alot of money around here, and i'm already in school ATM so I can't do it :( ] so I figured I should really be at least donating, right?

So a couple of weeks ago, I did a little of the leg work of looking up where I could get it drawn. I've donated before, but it was when I was at school, so I didn't really know how to do it other than just show up.

My coworker, who I found out is really into donating, was trying to get my boss to donate. And she said she couldn't because she had a tattoo. And the nosy person I am interjected "That's not true! I have tattoos, and they let me donate!" so, in anycase, I work at a college, and he told me there was a donation van today, so we signed up, and walked over, and he was low on iron, but I was ok (I was sooo scared waiting, because normally, I'm low on iron) so I got to give blood.

Which makes me happy. And hyper. Really super hyper!

La la la la. That is all. :D

I dunno, nothing much to update.

I spent most of my day playing Galga with Lovey. Playing the game, we kinda reverted to our teenaged selves... and it was nice. I mean, not that we're totally different people now, but you know how when you don't know anything, you don't know anything's wrong? It was nice to ignore all the problems with our life for a little while.

I got emotional, and I think It's because of the shitty eating I was doing.

I'm like, trying to diet for the first time in my life, and I'm amazed at how obviously linked my mood is to my daily diet. I eat shit, I feel like shit, I act like a shit. I eat well... well I"m still a shit, but at least not as much as normal, ha ha.

In any case, I had fun, playing video games and watching Family Guy and being immature. :P

I am a relatively fast crocheter. And in February, Lovey bought some cotton yarn and asked me, for her birthday, to make her a bag that she could take with her to disneyland.

We always have issues with bags being uncomfortable, or too big, or not big enough, when we're walking around the park, so this is really a good idea. And I don't know if I made her a good one or not, but I have to talk a little about this bag and it's terrible rule over my life.

In december, I made an entire blanket in 2 days. So it's not like asking me to make a little bag is really all that much to ask. But I got busy, and I got scared and I got moving, and things just went kinda CRAZY, and before i knew it, it was Lovey's 25th birthday and I was about 1/3 the way done.

The thing with Lovey is, she knows this is how I get- and she forgives me. (Perhaps a little too easily) and because she WASN'T breathing down my neck about her (two and a half months) late birthday present, I really didn't put alot of effort into getting it complete.

In my neurosis, though, is the thought that I cannot create something for me, unless my other tasks are done- and a bag promised months ago is definitely an undone task. So in the past few months, my crochet, which usually means at least two to three noteworth bags or hats every few months, and a few dolls/animals/smaller projects as well, has been at a complete stand still.

And I'm not gonna go out and call myself artistic (because it feels like a lie) but maybe creatively effected would be a fair term. What I mean is... I don't have to be doing something life changing, I don't have to be making people weep.. but I kinda go a little more nutso than usual if I'm not self expressing. And Yarn has been the best medium for self expression yet... so because I had a self imposed ban on it, the last few months have been unneccesarily harder than normal.

In any case, the bag of doom is finally complete. And while I was much too lazy to actually take pictures, Lovey was gracious enough to text me a picture of the new bag, which I actually caught her using last night. (Alot of my projects are totally goofy and therefore go unused. It's always a delight when something I made is actually what some one wants)

Here is said bag of doom:

And now that thie bag of doom is done, it has been transformed into the bag of freedom, because... if I ever get home in time to start something, I am completely free to create whatever my heart desires..

Right now, I think my heart desires a Jedi Knight, or perhaps Jabba The Hut.. I'm much to lazy to make my favorites- chewy or r2d2 though.. We'll see what comes of my crafty freedom... if not now, then when School frees me for the summer.

Blame It- (Lyrics)- Jamie Foxx Feat. T-Pain

This song is catchy and fun and straight up, seriously no shit, about date rape.

I'm sorry, I'm sensitive (I'll give you one guess why) but I can't help it! Every time I think about these lyrics ("I hear you sayin' what you won't do/But you know we're probly gon do") I can't help but think "What the FUCK do you think you're saying?" Because to me, what this song says is "If a girl is throwing up drunk, and she comes on to you... it's totally fair game"

That being said, this song is really really catchy. I just wish it had a better message.

Love Story - Taylor Swift

I was gonna write something funny here. I just don't have anything to say other than... really? I mean, one, I know that you met "when you were still young." Not just because you're taylor swift and have never been anything but young, but because you reference things that only high school sophmore's read- Romeo and Juliet and The Scarlett Letter. Please. I have already been traumatized by Nathaniel Hawthorne and Shakespeare. Please don't make me re-live it.

My Life Would Suck Without You - ( Lyrics) - Kelly Clarkson

My Life would suck with out you, too, Kelly. But please, re think some of your lyrics. Honestly, I really, really think this song is great- except for the title! Life usually sucks... it feels like such an injustice that your voice is being wasted on something so anti-poetic as the word "Suck"

</end word snobbery (...for now... maybe)

Just Dance/Love Game/ Poker Face- Lady Gaga

Listen, Lady... I love you! but my GOD you're everywhere! Haven't you heard? Absence makes the heart grow fonder. So please... let some one else have just a little air time.

Gives You Hell - All American Rejects (Lyrics)

I wake up every morning, With this song Blaring in my Face
It's always out of place
Especially when I'm working at my 9-5 pace
I like the way it tastes

To put food on my plate
But this song is hell, Yes it gives me Hell
When you Sing That Way
It gives me hell, god it gives me Hell

And truth be told I'd miss you
But truth be told I'm dying

When I hear this song
It gives me hell, Yes it gives me Hell
Every time it's played
It makes me ill, and it gives me Hell

If I found a Band that had a Plan and could sing well,
I'd be happy, and the Rejects'd be screwed for giving me Hell.

I had a few ideas about what I want to post about. But for some reason, I always feel like I should like, do something significant for my first post. Unfortunately, there seems to be very little that IS significant about me, which leaves me in kinda a rut as far as this wishing I had something interesting to start out with.

So, Instead of writing a long introductory post or a bunch of surveys that no one in their right mind would want to read, I'll just start out with my attempt at A Day In my Life.

If you're from live journal, you might already know about this. What you do is you take pictures of your entire day and then post them- along with snarky/pithy comments in order to show the world 1) what an exhibitionist you are b) how incredibly cool and interesting and intelligent you are and 3) (I assume) why you're always complaining about how bored you are.

Because I am technologically and photogenically challenged, I used my cell phone to take like 40ish pictures documenting my incredibly normal Sunday.

Enjoy

*****EDIT****Oh... by the way... I have tried ALOT to get this formatted to go under a cut. but today it's just not agreeing with me. I'll work on it later

A DAY IN MY "Life"

MAy 17th, 2009

I woke up at an embarassingly late hour.. What do you expect though? If there's one flaw I'll admit to, it's being lazy (consequently, I will admit to many, many other flaws)( Read more... )

Lovey and my niece, Bree was over (one of the reasons I was awake so late the night before) But was too quick for me, so I didn't get a bed head picture of her. Damn those fast moving teenagers!

Lovey, on the otherhand, was too deliriously asleep to object to my snapshot.

So, I might be a little on the showy side sometimes... but even I have my limits, and bathroom stuff? NOT something I assume you'd even WANT to see!

So here's a before and After shower pic:

Ick... Now that I see those... I think I should have made them a little bit smaller... and darker... and blurrier... and maybe not taken those at all.

I lost my wallet the night before, and then remembered this morning that I left it in Kyle, My car. So I went down to get it.

I take a lot of heat for R2D2 and C-3PO... but I think my keys are awesome :)

Ciggie Break.

We decided that we were gonna take Bree to Pasadena. Why? Because Pasadena is pretty! and on the way home-ish for Bree- which is a plus when it takes 2 hours to drop her off! So, we used the interwebz to get directions (And maybe spend half an hour on phonezoo.)

Lovey Looking up directions

Me wasting time on phonezoo.

In the car! I love when Lovey drives. Not only does it give me time to take pictures... I get to dress up with whatever I find in the back of Kyle!

This is my lady gaga look for the day. (To me Big Sunglasses + Big Hat = Lady Gaga. Correct me if I'm wrong)

Blurry Time Check

Dork that I am, I took this picture in the car on the Burbank freeway.

This is the ABC building. If I had waited about 2 seconds longer, I would have gotten an awesome view of the cool Disney Animation building. But I'm just not that smart/patient/talented.

Out of the car and looking lovely in the parking garage..

I don't know exactly what these were for, but I love butterflies, so I took a picture!

We walked around for a while, and ended up using the Bathroom in Gelson's Market. I should have bought something to get validated there- it was 4.50 for parking, and we were only there for a few hours!

At this point, Lovey and Bree are ready to kill me after all my picture taking.

I don't know... I just think Pasadena is pretty. Too bad is so far away from civilzation though :(

I dragged the girls into the Antique Mall (one of my favorite past times) and found TWO star wars books I wanted. (I didn't get either. Not only am I broke, I don't have room for more books *sadly*)

EWOKS!!!!!!!!!
(wow.... how am I just NOW realizing what a dork I am?)

We leave the Parking Garage and I do a Time Check.

We stop for a snack

and on our way home, some lunch

We're on our way to drop off Bree in Corona, which is a boring drive. Not much to once you get into the OC and the Inland Empire :(

That's pretty much the view for 50/ 60 miles :(

Yet another shitty time check

We get to Bree's house.

And I get to see B, Bree's Younger Brother. I used to be their baby sitter once upon a time. I can't believe how much he's grown (especially in that shaggy hair department! Why do boys think this looks good??

Bree shows us her awesome promotion dress. Pretty cute!

We hang out for a while, and gab about stuff. I tried taking some pictures, but they all turned out too dark. Forgive my horrible picture taking!

Time Check as we get in the car to leave.

Kyle is Hungry! Time for some unleaded supper!

Again, there is nothing interesting about car rides.

We get home in time to catch the season finale of Family Guy!

Final Time Check. I forgot to get one before I fell asleep. It' was probably embarassingly early... I think 11 o'clock. I fell asleep with the TV on (lame)