Writing the letter

I wrote it. To me it’s over 2 weeks over due, but to everyone else it’s probably too soon. Or to him, far too soon. If I were to fall off the face of the earth, he’d probably be a happy man. Except, apparently he doesn’t know me well. We only lived together and dated and stuff… I said I wasn’t going to avoid things. It might be best to lay low for a while and not cause any more scenes, I’ll admit that.

Wednesday could have gone better. Drunk Pam was having a good time. Drunk Pam missed him and Drunk Pam has absolutely no impulse control. This has been evidenced on my occasions, i.e. every time I get drunk. If hugging everyone, the attempted groping, and attempted making out while previously drunk is any indication, I’ll probably still feel the same way.

Drunk Pam decided that hugging friends wasn’t enough. Drunk Pam went for the hug. She was forcefully denied. Sober Pam doesn’t take this well, let alone Drunk Pam. If anyone ever had doubts of my feelings, they shouldn’t anymore. Most girls I’ve met don’t crumple to the sidewalk, refuse to get up, not that I could have moved on my own accord, and get helped out by the bartender.

Not embarrassing for either one of us or any of our friends. Drunk Pam is on a break, with an exception on Tuesday, for a previously arranged karaoke night.

I tend to be the type of person who takes charge and fixes everything. I mediate and solve things. I don’t always have tact, but rarely am I afraid of expressing my opinion. I’ve worked in so many groups and with hundreds of people by this time. I know why certain people and I work well together. So this not speaking, solving or doing anything is killing me. It’s been killing me for about the week before the official break up. I talk things out.

Allen is not this type of person. He’s mellow and apparently doesn’t share his opinions and gripes. He gives up after one big fight instead of working with me. He pushes me away and pretends I don’t exist. Which just makes me want to be an attention whore, but I’ve never done well being ignored.

He and I need to find a way to be civil and exist in social situations. We have too many mutual friends to not have that. And he really needs to know that Drunk Pam is really friendly.

May you live in interesting times

These times are defining. It almost seems like a cliché for me at this rate. It’s these times, though that define the type of person you are, or want to be.

To say that the past 2 years have been challenging would be an understatement. Challenging doesn’t even begin to cover. As it turns out, living with an abusive guy, leaving said guy, moving in with my mom and her abusive alcoholic husband, getting kicked out by the alcoholic, crashing at a guy I had just met’s apartment after staying in my car, dating this guy, having this guy shatter my heart takes it out of you. Add to the fact the longest I’ve held a job at this rate is 5 months, my life is anything but stable. In two years, I’ve lived at 6 different places. I had the delightful time learning that even while not packed or ready in any sense, I can move in about an hour, even at midnight. And between a Focus and a Prius, my all my things fit, except my dresser. I still feel like I should toss things, but I think that’s my pessimist side.

This whole breakup debacle is showing me who my friends are, more than anything. I may have lost the guy, but I have friends to help me up. Well, I didn’t really lose him. I’m not sure what is with me and suddenly crazy men. I really don’t understand that one. Not one, but two. Two guys have acted this way to me. The first had warning signs I ignored. Really should have seen that one coming. The  second time took me by surprise. There was a distinct lack of red flags.

The person I owe the absolute most to is the girl who refused to let me be homeless, has put up with all my shit and whining, and keeps telling me the things I need to hear, not what I want to hear. There are honorable mentions to the friend who took me back to her apartment to sober me up after I was bawling on the sidewalk and refusing to get up. (I couldn’t have walked it, nor could she have supported a 5’8″ drunk girl.) And finally, Michelle the bartender, who helped me walk to my car (other friend drove, I bawled in the passenger seat, all curled up).

“I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive
element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my
daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make
life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument
of inspiration; I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all
situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is
escalated or de-escalated, and a person humanized or de-humanized. If
we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as
they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of
becoming.”

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 – 1832)

It’s just rude

I feel like an annoying girlfriend having the attitude of ‘text me back.’ But really, dammit, respond. I live with you. I shouldn’t find out about your whereabouts and activities from facebook and having your friend tell our friend who then tells me. That shit ain’t cool. Now I’m beyond irritated and can’t sleep because you’re disrespectful to me and my night.

If that’s the way you want to have a relationship, it ain’t gonna last much longer.

 

Oh I hear your car now.

 

I’m a wreck

I’m really just that right now. I wish I wasn’t and I wish that I had the time and space to sort myself out, but I lack those luxuries so this will have to do. I’m pretty rushed for time right now, as I must get to work, but working isn’t so great for me right this second. I work with the public and I’m essentially on display. I also have severe anxiety at the moment. Sometimes I do better and life isn’t difficult, but when life things start changing, that takes a toll.

You see, I’m moving in a few weeks. It shouldn’t be a big deal. It’s just down the road and I’ll be closer to school. I’m going to walk. It all sounds nice and good. I’m growing up, right? And I’m doing what normal people do. I’m moving in with my boyfriend. It sounds even less odd because we already live together. But that was from circumstance. This is by choice. I’ll actually be on the lease and responsible for my portion instead of living like a refugee. Everything, should be just fine.

But…

As nice as everything sounds, I can’t get the last time I shared a domicile equally with someone. To say that it didn’t end well would be an understatement. In reality, I still have daily anxiety associated with it, even after a year and a half. It might be nothing compared to the immediate mental torture, but it’s enough to have me panic and screw things up, as my specialty. I’m really rather fabulous at panicking and screwing up something good.

Maybe one day I’ll have the piece of mind and live on my own. However, that day has no ability to come until probably about 4 years from now. Then these worries can go away.

Castle Ink Paperless Scholarship Entry

Being a native of the Pacific Northwest, I’ve been recycling my whole life. I even remember the days where we had to separate glass, plastic, can, and paper. While it’s great that I’ve always made efforts to recycle, I’ve learned about the importance of reusing and reducing.

I worked as a Challenge Course Facilitator at a ropes course, where I facilitated an environmental education program for elementary school kids. One of the activities we did focused on reducing, reusing and recycling. We had platforms representing each with different sizes from large, which can fit about 10 adults, to small, 2-3 adults, respectively. The sizes were assigned to the most impact that each did. Recycling is fantastic, but what if we used these products again? Recycling isn’t quite what it’s called, it’s actually down-cycling. Used rubber tires can be made into mats on playgrounds. Despite the fact it’s not the most sustainable, I still recycle everything I can.

What if we used something as simple as a reusable cup? I work as a barista and we go through loads of cups, which we wouldn’t need if even a majority brought in their own cups. I can’t even fathom how many cups we would save.

Even better than reusing, we can reduce. Like with the cups above, if we used less, so many resources can be saved. One of the easiest things I’ve found to reduce, is to keep my documents digital. If I can, I submit everything online, from my taxes to most social communications. I’m not perfect, but I do try to not buy more than I need, or items which contain less packaging, such as the giant bags of cereal versus the individual bowls.

These are just a few ways I try to reduce, reuse and recycle. What are the ways you do your part?

And do check out http://www.castleink.com for all your ink needs.

Sometimes I’m glad to be me

I have been given a cold. It’s one of those nasty travel colds, which tend to follow airplane trips. And I didn’t even get the fun part of the trip. What actually makes me absolutely miserable is being able to sleep. I tend to drown myself in nyquil, in hopes of passing out cold for the whole night. Last night didn’t quite go to plan, since I was also drunk. Spare the lecture, I know I shouldn’t drink and have a nyquil chaser. However, it was my one night to drink a bunch and cold be damned.

This combination led to a less than wonderful night’s sleep. This morning, the boyfriend decided to put all the blankets on me, making me way too hot and waking me up for the day. I was not pleased.

I said something. It went something along the lines of, “I’m annoyed. I was trying to sleep and you woke me up.” Turns out he thought I was awake in all my morning glory. Yeah, that’s never after nyquil. I’m typically a groggy mess until I get a cup of coffee or two. I was rolling over to sleep more. I wanted more damn sleep. It wasn’t a great night’s sleep, dammit. And we’re going to be up late tonight at the midnight showing of the Hunger Games. Okay, I might still be a little annoyed after my two cups of coffee.

What I am happy about is the fact that I can state a problem in a calm manner and have things hashed out in under 5 minutes. I’m really happy I didn’t let it fester all day, either, or I might have been pissed off all day.

I’d just like some peaceful sleep

Is it too much to ask for? Isn’t this the time of my life I should be rested, unless I’ve been partying and need to be up for work? I have no pets or kids or anything that should keep me up. Alas, I am a light sleeper and my boyfriend wakes me more than he should. And sometimes he just randomly wakes me up in the middle of the night. No, I’m not particularly nice then. I love sleep. I’ve always cherished it. As much as I love my sleep, sleep does not love me back. I find it nearly impossible to fall asleep; I’m fortunate if I stay asleep. I’m even more lucky if it’s a peaceful night. For the past year or so, I’ve had some dreadful dreams. I hardly remember when I wake, but I’m haunted by the people. If there was a way I could erase some things from my mind, I would, without hesitation. By definition, I have PTSD. The dreams are really what get me. They keep it fresh in my mind and I can’t escape. It’s disrupting my current life. It’s being problematic to what I want to do. I’m too scared of what might happen. And I don’t know how to express it to anyone. My friend who knows all the details or my boyfriend who has to actually deal with me.

And on a semi-related note, I’m still somewhat shocked I have a boyfriend actually. I’m kind of broken and I actually managed to trust a new person, not that the old ones had my trust.

My mind is becoming more and more of mess as I write this. You know I’m going crazy when I do the same things over and over and over again, in an obsessive sort of way. Minesweeper is a favorite and this month listening to the song “Safe and Sound” by Taylor Swift are keeping me occupied. I’m gonna go be crazy now.

Aww

Yesterday, I told the world I was accepted into school.

Today, I found out that my boyfriend is truly happy for me. He really thinks I can succeed, which means so much. He’s been there, done it and has the degree to prove it. It also sounds like he’s told a bunch of people.

I also told my manager, who was over the top enthusiastic. He insists I need to do it. Which also means quite a bit because I won’t be the most available employee.

Provided I can secure enough funding, I’m not seeing any reason why not. Getting in was the easy part. Funding, not so much. I need some awesome, rich, sympathetic people to give me scholarships. So, if you know any, let them know about me. I’ll be glad to return some favor. Maybe some coffee…

Accepted

On somewhat of a whim, I applied to go back to school. And I’m in.

Yes, it’s exciting. However, I’m nervous and not sure I can hack it. I can’t even afford it. It’s a tiny, private school which tends to churn out excellent grads in fields which don’t have a great number of students. I’d be a student with little prior knowledge, but I know if I do chose to attend, I will have to work my ass off. And not just at school, which is regarded as extremely challenging and damn near impossible to alos work a part time job. I’ll still have to work. At least I have a pretty good job for that. I’m a barista at one of the corporations, which allows me flexible hours and free coffee, both of which I’d require.

Currently, I’m unsure. I’m going to have to take a good hard look at my options. I’m going to have to have a number of conversations with the people I trust and know what the curriculum entails. One of the biggest challenges will actually to tell my mother, who absolutely won’t support me. I know this from previous conversations about going to school. I went once and that should have been enough.

The odds aren’t in my favor. I already hold a BA, and it’s a small school no one has ever heard of outside of the industry. I almost never see my boyfriend now and we share a room. I’d really never see him. I really have no idea what to do at this point. I was actually kind of hoping to be rejected. It makes the decision that much easier. It’s not like I told anyone to begin with. It would be a secret of my own.

I don’t remember it sucking this much the first time. Granted it was “this school or that one?” It came down to in state tuition. It was the only major difference. This time, though, it’s picking a life and career path. I guess it’s not forever, but just until my loans are paid off. I do have to consider who else this effects, which is namely my boyfriend. He does get a say in the matter, not the final word, but a definite say. Something tells me he’s going to be excited. Then again it’s his alma mater and he didn’t get in the first time. However, I do have the female thing working for me, especially in the programming track.

 

Breaking the Cardinal Rules

I’m ready to break the cardinal rules in blogging and actually writing something decent. Frankly, right now I’m pissed off and all I reallly want is a stiff drink. I don’t really care it’s early afternoon.

My mother drives me to drink. Having a conversation with her makes me drink. I need one.

I wish I could get along great with my mother and we actually had some semblance of a relationship. I admit, I do have a hand in this but a good portion of the issues are things she needs to deal with. I know how that sounds; I sound like a whiny teenager. However, it’s not just me. My friends, boyfriend and most of all, my therapist agree. In reality, my worse actions in this relationship are growing up and expanding my horizons. I figure if that’s the worst I can give her, she needs to deal with it.

Eventually the kids need to leave and go out on their own. They can’t just chill at home forever. I know I haven’t always made the most mature decisions, but I’m 23; I’m still learning.

I’m aware that I shouldn’t go off for a weekend and not tell anyone. I knew before I went, but I was curious if they would even noticed or care. At the same time, all children will push their limits and inconsistent or lack of enforcement will cause acting out. It doesn’t matter if the kid is 3 or 23. Without some sort of reinforcement, children will become brats. The key part of this is that the kid doesn’t get away with it the first time. That’s the time to be the most strict because if they do it again, they know what’s coming. We employed the same principle in facilitation and working on a ropes course. At the beginning of the day or program, we were super strict, but at the end of the day, we may let things slide. You just can’t give an inch in the beginning and not expect them to take a mile.