things that matter

dog lips.

halle's goofy smile

cold football games.

hot apple cider.

the smell of leaves.

aspen's sleeptalking

couch time.

laughs and drinks.

memories.

being warm when it's cold, and cool when it's hot.

days off.

friends that make you smile inside.

mexican food, which I am going to eat now.

on bangs

Hairdressers should be required to have clients sign waivers before cutting bangs. Waivers that entail the intense work it will be to not only deal with the bangs, but then to grow them out once you are sick of dealing with them. (about 1.5 days). counseling sessions should be offered before getting bangs cut, much like gender changes and getting ones tubes tied, and plastic surgery. one should be reminded by friends and family about the most recent bangs incident, and how much prozac it took you to recover. seriously. unlike grieving the loss of an entire mane of hair chopped off in a random moment of spontaneous revolt, cutting bangs is like dipping your toe in the black sea of rebellion and then having to live with the memory of how that hair used to be as pretty as the rest of your hair, but now is either too long, too short, too curly, or too straight, and mostly just hidden by a hat. which leads me to another rant... why do some workplaces not allow hats? not cool.

relentless

It seems as though just when I get a good head of steam built up, somebody takes the lid off and spoils it for me. I have been working a lot of hours. now it's important to me to make enough to live, and my hours are cut way down. I am irritated with life. I am irritated with my family. I really need to focus on the positive. the sun is shining. aspen and truck are snoring on either side of me. I have a full work day today. tonight we carve pumpkins. I can't wait for the next step, whatever it may be....

on goals...

...

starlight...

starbright... first star I see tonight. Wish I may, and wish I might

have the wish I wish tonight....

Someday

Today I'm pushing carts. It's a good physical release. I'm starving.
And I have too much time to think. About all of the things that hurt,
and how to fix them. If there is a way. I wish I knew. I wish an
answer would present itself. But, until then, I'll keep pushing carts.

Sent from my iPhone

a quick rant

things that piss me off:

1. being solely responsible for all of the laundry that 5+ people produce. I say 5+ because I do mom and dad and sanna's laundry whenever it shows up in the pile, and then get in trouble for shrinking sweaters and folding jeans wrong. what happened to the good old days when grandma came for a few days, did all of the laundry and ironing, smoked outside the back porch and petted the dogs?

2. being the only one in the house that gives a shit about eating decent food. meals with less than a 65% fat and/or chemical content.

3. Sharing one little room with 4 other people and then fielding suggestions on how I could organize it better.

4. Feeling guilty because I say I don't have time to fold clothes and match socks but everyone knows I went out on Saturday night. Because realistically, if I had stayed home, I would have been folding clothes and matching socks from 10 oclock til 2:30 anyway, right?

5. guilt in general.

6. having no fucking clue how I will survive this life.

7. the thought that there might be an afterlife. (this REALLY pisses me off)

8. Again, guilt.

9. not having someBody. you know. someBody.

10. feeling like life is screaming by me and I am so completely at the mercy of cruel cosmic forces that I can't even catch my breath, much less stop spinning from the constant blows of crappy luck.

11. being alone. even in a house full of people, or a bar full of, well, people. being alone. I hate it. more than life. and that's a lot.

Dear Life:

I am sorry. I miss you. I would like to find you again, but at the moment, I haven't the time, money, energy, or wherewithall to make that happen. Maybe soon. Please know I am thinking about you every day and would love to somehow fix things.

Yours Truly,

Livia

Someday, I hope for redemption. Someday, I hope for restoration. Someday, I hope for the karmic debt that is apparently owed me. But unfortunately, today I feel like the karmic debt is what I am paying in this haphazard life I live. I have made colossal mistakes. I have destroyed good things, and nurtured bad things. I want to love people, to build life. I want to stop this roller coaster of entropy and create my own personal nirvana, me and my babies, in an insular cocoon of beauty. I am ready to quit descending and start climbing, hard and fast to the top. Because Liv always gets top.

Something's gotta give, right? I have an interview in Port Townsend for their 911 dispatch. I am trying very hard to find the balance between not getting my hopes up and thinking positive thoughts. I've spent the last two nights at Safeco field, watching the Mariners annihilate the Athletics, courtesy of my friend Hopi. Hopi was supposed to have met me downtown for the WPA show the other night, but I couldn't get ahold of her and she said it was just as well. Turns out she had to face some of her deepest darkest fears and make a phone call that was emotionally trying for her. "How did it go?" I ask. "Actually, really, really well." she says, turning to me in all sincerity. "His voice mail was very nice."

I looked at her for awhile to try to understand exactly how serious she was, and then the conversation went something like: me, "Blahhahahahaha. Hopi, honey, it doesn't count if you are only talking to his voicemail." Hopi: "well if he had answered the phone I wouldn't have been brave enough to tell him what I needed to, but his answering machine was so warm and it just melted me, so I felt like I could open up."

We laughed for a long time about that one. I told her it would definitely be core material in my book-that-becomes-a-romantic-comedy-movie-when-I-write-it-after-my-life-turns-romantic.

Natalee skipped school yesterday. It started out as a dr visit to have her foot that's been hurting her looked at, and morphed into a play day with Aspen, since somehow her pleas to not have to go back to school fell on tender the ears of responsibility avoidance expert, and then they spent an afternoon arguing about whether Joe Jonas was, indeed, Aspen's one true love or not. Turns out, I had to claim him as my own true love to end the fight. Which is fine, since I don't have too many other candidates in line. :D

I have some ridiculously boring papers to write today. Extrapolations on articles about broke single moms and recreation, and the chronology of events that led to the disappearance of the Anasazi races in ancient America. So basically a couple thousand words of BS. Which I excel at. First though, more coffee.