The good news, bad news and frustrating news all in one

Got a letter in the mail today with my results...of everything. I apparently am the picture of health and have nothing, that the doctor can tell, wrong with me. Blood, sugar levels, cholesterol,all good.

This makes me happy in that my fears that I'd jacked up my sugar levels, or my thyroid was messed up are gone. But it doesn't solve why my side hurts all the damn time or why, despite activities, I am gaining weight & am so lethargic.

The pain isn't imaginary, SOMETHING is causing it. It's too regular/always present not to be. I can't ignore something that is causes me enough pain that I can't talk or breath comfortably. If it was, I wouldn't have made my SECOND trip to the doctor about it. So now I have to wonder if I should go to a different doctor or what. It obviously isn't going to go away. It's been almost a full year now.

So I guess I have two more options, but thinking one of them will cost me. Chiropractor and Alternative Medicine Dr.

Amazing how this news has everything all at once, because now I have no plan of real action to solve this. :(

Woot the doctor's

So, I went to the doctor's this morning. I called yesterday because I was still having a pain in my side, and in my opinion, more importantly, this year I've felt completely lethargic. If you've seen me, you wouldn't think I've been working out or watching what I eat, but I have. I just keep gaining weight. This all is not ok with me. One medical thing (migraines) is enough.

So he took some xrays (finally) and took my blood. Now to see. I was quite honest with him about everything. To be honest with all of you I'm not sure if I want something to be found or not. I'd like to think there is some other reason I am becoming the size of a balloon, but don't relish the thought of actually having something wrong either.
Guess I'll know in a week or so.

It's a loop d' loop

So, as many know, or may not know, my car Midnight died a few months ago. No, she can't be fixed short of a new engine. The cost of a new engine & install would be the cost of a car itself. Besides, she had other issues that a new engine wouldn't fix.

I, like many foolish people, have student loans & medical bills and what not. I am not going to get a good rate for a car loan. Nor do I want the $200+ payment associated with a new car. I simply want something that can get me from a to b and if I could actually leave town in it, all the better.

Here's the loop d loop: I need extra cash for a car. For that extra cash I need an extra job, but to get an extra job, I need a car. Getting to my regular job is going to become an issue by the end of the month as it is.

So, there is my issue. Due to my "special" location in town, public transportation is actually not an option...nor is walking really.

So I am feeling like Bill & Ted at the beginning of their Excellent Adventure, and need a time machine so I can go back (or forward) to get this even out. lol Anyone have that laying around?

It shouldn't bother me.

At least it shouldn't bother me this much. My hometown of Joplin Mo was hit hard by a tornado. I worried like crazy yesterday when I couldn't reach my sister who lives there still. I know she's ok now. I'm still worrying about another close family friend. Otherwise, sounds like my friends and family there were uber lucky and even if their homes and belongings aren't ok, they are. I am unbelievably thankful for this. Knowing/hearing how many weren't so lucky....my God.
So one would think I could stop feeling so horrible. I can't though. I think its because that is my childhood. Joplin is my memories. Some shity ones sure, but some Damn good ones too. It was my place of so many firsts. To think those things are gone. Gone. I don't know, it seems too surreal.
I saw a picture of the church and grade school I went to, completely gone except for the cross. How to I reconcile that in my mind?!
There have been no photos of my old house. The one I lived in when we were all together. The one I hand painted one summer. The home I go to in my dreams. By all accounts though, its gone. The old Victorian house, that was now 101 years old, gone.
I scramble for memories, for pictures, for names. I can't be there. I would be in the way and of no help. I am helpless. I can't see my childhood in turmoil. I have to make myself believe the pictures. I have to make myself believe that my sister and her family are ok.
I should be relieved now. Saddened by the devastation, but not to the point that I am right? After all, my family is ok and it was only my past, a past I wasn't going back to, that is personally gone.
So many prayers are being said for everyone down there. Unless you'd been there and seen it with all the trees, you can't really see how bad it really is. :(

Cycling back

I know, I talk about this a LOT. It just seems to happen. I see a cycle coming up and I didn't notice this one the last few times. It's the 'alone' cycle. Not the "poor me I feel alone and no one likes me" alone cycle, but the "I seem to be spending more time on me, and writing, and working out, and getting shit done while everyone else is going out" alone cycle.

It's a weird cycle. I fight it going into it. I think not having a car for a few weeks and knowing I won't have a car for long now, kind of kick started it. Kept me love of friends and all, but forced me to do things at home.

Oh hell, I don't know how to describe this to you all. Especially without someone going and misinterpreting what I say. lol But, I feel this new settling in with people. Not new, as in new people, but new as in I have taken on a different roll in people's lives and people have taken a different roll in mine....and this is all ok. It's obviously part of the cycle and thus, it is the way it is supposed to be.

I know that I have gotten things written the past few weeks. I seem to have misplaced my inspiration, but inspiration can come in many forms, and like the times before, it will present itself when it is ready. I miss my favorite place to go and write, but I am sure I can find another, if not, at least I know most of the places downtown will be a bit slower next week with college out of session.

Cycles. woot Let the cycle of creativity and Caroline begin!!!! ...or something like that. :)

I'm ....well....

{I debated on if I should post this, and I debated where I would post it. I went back and forth. A struggle is a struggle and I guess, my idea that getting this out there will force me to not only stay on track, but maybe, just maybe go see someone if this doesn't get better. (That someone being a doctor, not for some surgery, I am not that bad, but maybe I'm sick.)}

I'm fat. I'm not saying 'overweight' because I don't *feel* overweight. I feel fat. At this day, at this time, I am. I feel it. I see it. I'm not really sure what is going on. I wasn't eating crazy. I was still working out and running, but I've gained. This upsets me for lots of reasons. It's depressing and yet, the other day I thought of it like this....

I've been battling this for years. I win for a year or so, then I lose horribly. Here's the thing though, it's only been the past 12 years.

Growing up I certainly didn't think I was skinny. As the tallest girl, I was generally bigger than everyone else by default. My best friend was like a foot shorter than me starting in 3rd grade. So I always thought I was huge. I wasn't though. I wasn't even "plump" in any way. I was normal. A good size for a girl my height - just not anorexic thin.

I was like this until my son was born - and yes, I still believed I was huge. Oddly enough I wasn't...until I gave into that and actually became what I perceived.

So I am thinking of it this way. I have been in shape and 'not fat' more years than the other. There is no reason to give up. My body will just have to cave on these battles.

What's wrong with me (you)?

Friends are great. When we are feeling down, they are there for us. If we say we are ugly, they say no, you could be a model. When we have a bad hair day, they tell us they envy it. If we feel fat, they tell us we are just fine. If we feel like complete morons, they tell us we are lovable. That we are smart. We are capable. We can do anything. Friends are great about that.

There are times though, when it feels like there is no amount of complimenting someone can do. When you see something not going right in your life. That seems to be when you cry into the cosmos, "What's wrong with me!"

I was having a conversation with a friend tonight. We were talking about dating and about dating people that are either 'not quite right' or not for us. (My wording) When they were on one of these dates, they got the feeling that the person was asking them what was wrong with them. Why didn't they want to date them? Excuse the blurriness of this next part, because I can't remember if the person actually asked or not, but my friend proceeded to tell me why this person was undate-able.

This was both hilarious (because it wasn't me) and interesting. Why? Because, we've all wondered.

I'm single. I know I am a picky picky picky person when it comes to dating, but, I don't know, sometimes I feel like something is wrong with me. Why don't the people I want to date, want to date me too? Maybe it's the way I learn, but sometimes I have to be told the answers so I can work on them and remember them. Like a test in High School. If I did poorly a test, I had to know all the things I did wrong, and the next time, 100%. So wouldn't it be nice, if once in a while, someone *did* let you know?

The other side of that coin of course is SOMEONE WOULD LET ME KNOW WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!!

If any of you are like me, you have things about yourself you don't like. These might be the things you blame things on. I couldn't tell you if it would be better or worse to have those fears verified, or heaven forbid, flaws you never even knew about told to you.

So, I guess that is why we don't tell people what is wrong with them. Instead, we all just wonder what our flaws are. Why we aren't good enough for this person or what have you. Why does friend A not want to be friends with me, they are friends with friend C. These might be questions best not answered.

....I'd still like to know though. lol

We all have our stories

We all have our stories. Those stories we've told over and over that, despite certain facts missing, or things altered a bit, have become fact. A story, that even if someone was there with you, you've told it your way so many times, it's now the truth. No question. New people come into our lives to tell the story to and 'impress'. Even we forget that we've changed it...if we ever noticed in the first place.

I have a friend that always tells this story about a business. How they hate them with a blinding passion. The story they tell is one that states they have only gone here twice and it was such a horrible experience all around, that they will never go back and they never have. Thing is, while I was clearing my voice mail (something I rarely do, and thus the thing is full all the time) of a few messages (because I only do a few at a time, can't clear the whole thing!) and there was a message from this friend, telling me they were driving home after grabbing food at this establishment. Oddly, there are two messages with similar tales (both gone now from voice mail lol). I heard those messages. I remember getting them, yet when this person tells the story of righteous anger and boycott, I believe with faith that they are telling the truth. This person has never gone except for the times described in their story. It's their story. They like to tell it.

Who am I to call bs on it? It's not going to hurt anyone in anyway, so I will not mention it (well, except in this blog lol).

I know I have those stories too. I don't realize the fact here and there that I leave out of a story that makes the story 1) not as interesting and 2) might make me look bad/stupid/mean. No, I am not going to give any examples, and not for the reason you might be thinking. I would be all about showing you how I have altered my own history when I talk to people, but honestly, I don't think of them until someone mentions something.

I know I was talking to someone the other day about working in the pizza places years ago. They, oddly enough, worked for the same chain in another state. We were talking about our experiences, and I shit you not, she mentioned something (no, still can't remember) and I started laughing because I had totally forgotten about it and how it effected me. I remember telling her the story, because she would understand it, but I also remember thinking, "You know, none of my current friends would probably understand this...and God only knows how they would take it." So I am pretty sure that is why my mind filed it away in the 'stories you are going to tell differently'.

We can all alter our history. New people give us a chance to be a better person then we were. We made the right choice that day. We ignored the comments that other day. We are *amazing*. I don't blame anyone for it either...unless, like I think I alluded to, it is actually detrimental (you killed someone, you left out you had a family, you are running from the law...).

We all have our stories.

....lol any you can think of you'd care to share?

You're not supposed to care

"Don't look over here!" First thing you do is look. It's like the natural instinct is to find out why for ourselves...or just be defiant. I think the same thing happens when someone, or even yourself, tells you aren't supposed to care about something. Aren't supposed to think about something. It becomes an almost focus. You think about how you shouldn't think about it. Which leads you to realize you are thinking about it, and thus, that you shouldn't think about it. Its a fun little spiral that the universe has popped into our brains. I'm not entirely sure what that point of this evolutionary trait is/was good for.

I do know though, when you are not supposed to care about something, you usually do.

Perceptions

Perception is such a funny thing. I think it ranks up there with interpretation. I understand, that in some cases, those two words are interchangeable with no issues. I'm not thinking about how I might take something someone has written and what it means. I am talking about how people interact and how that makes people feel. What they see. What I see. Individual perception of events.

This all goes along with my belief that nothing is ever caused by just one thing, that there are many reasons for everything most of the time.

There is a saying that goes somewhat like 'the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results'. This core plays with each of our perceptions of what is happening to us. What a situation means.

For me, if I try talking to someone a few times with no response, I can take that to mean a few things. The person is busy and will get back to me. The person never got any of my messages. The person doesn't really want to talk to me. The person doesn't want to talk to me because I have wronged them in some way. My perception over time has changed on this, because a few years ago, I would have simply chalked it up to the person hating me and not wanting to talk to me because I was annoying. For others, this wouldn't even register for a second thought. Perception.

Perception plays a role in how we interact with others, what we think a situation means for us. I can be very shy, to the point of seeming, well, like either I don't know how to talk, I have nothing to day, or I am a bitch who won't talk to you. Depending, of course, on how you have interacted with people in your life, will give you that perception of me that makes since. It doesn't matter that I am simply shy and, yeah, when I get there my mind goes blank and I have nothing to say. lol I can see this in how people treat me and if they keep giving me chances. Knowing this of myself, I am generally more likely to perceive someone as shy and quiet the first time (unless faces are made, and then, well... lol)

What might seem like a simple conversation to one person, can be perceived by the other as something so much more. I have a friend that tells me about her relationship sometimes, and I often hear the words of 'I was tired and I was just saying what I was thinking and he perceived it as me being mean or uncaring.' Why? Well, it often stems from his past experience.

Perception is a funny thing only because the same thing can look so different to two people involved. Its a date or its just hanging out. Its a slight, its just a long day. It's being lazy or it's being terrified to lose. It's not being involved or being afraid to and not knowing what to do.

We all hold our own perception of the world. What works for us. What makes sense.

The clocks are a tickin'

I'm sitting here wanting to leave my house. Go anywhere. Eat something that is not in my house. Do something. See my friends. Drive. I can't though. Broken car equals home time. So I am sitting here on the couch...and I hear the clocks ticking. I don't like ticking clocks. I have only two. They are wall clocks. They are currently the loudest things EVER. All I can think of while I listen to them is how each second I get farther and farther away from doing what I want to do this month.

Last week I had a good run. Good solid four miles at a decent pace (for me). My heel hurt really bad after, so I took that Wednesday off. Which, had I known my car would break Thursday, I wouldn't have. I can't get to the trails without my car. I can't get to the gym without my car. So, I am wallowing in 'wah-ness'. Mainly because there is a race June 4th. I wanted to do it. It would have been my first. I was terrified. I figured however, if I kept up the pace of my running and pushed a bit harder, that I would be able to do it. No problem.

Now I am sitting here. Mopey. Not doing anything. I have taken a nap almost every day this week. WHAT THE HELL. I 'talk' about taking naps, I don't actually do it! I have lost all will to do shit and I am not even in a bad mood! (You have no idea how many times I almost gave up on this post.)

I worked at making something 'not' my inspiration. I think that was a bad idea. I think I need to get that back....even if it has its downfall as well.

Its blank

There have been moments the past few weeks in which I had a good blog post. I had somethings to share. I even had a new blog planned out. It keeps slipping away as soon as I go to write it out though.

I think about my book. How I want to finish it. I want to work on it. I want the story to finish unfolding. I want someone else to get to know those characters. I can't seem to open the file though. The two clicks it would take seem so hard.

I miss my poetry. I want to write something. I feel so uninspired though. Or inspired...but empty.

I can't seem to write anymore. I don't know what happened. I love writing. My ability to share the world though words though seems to be failing me. I am able to tweet or reblog, but not create.

That might be killing me most of all.

My ex

I used to be a very trusting soul. I mean, I trusted everything. When someone would tell me something, I didn't really doubt it. I trusted. Then my ex happened. After years of trusting only to be shown that I shouldn't have, I finally starting distrusting.

It took a few years to get rid of the initial mistrust. Years.

So now I am just, generally, good at spotting liars. Whether half truths, or to yourself. I tend to spot it. I also tend to try and doubt it a bit, because I know, at times, I am more untrusting then I'd like.

I especially don't like this when I am show, point blank the truth of something, yet the lie remains. Or if I end up finding out the truth later on. These are kind of painful for me because they are so like that horrid relationship.

I can't expect anyone to understand. You weren't there. You didn't see the array of un-truth I faced for well over 3 years.

I can tell you however, that honestly, I can't stand it. I hate it when people lie to me. Especially about the little stuff.

I hurts.

Longest Weekend Ever

Generally after a long work week, the weekend seems to be sucked into time warp, speeding everything up. Sleeping in doesn't seem to count as much, the afternoons go so quickly you can't do one thing before the evenings activities. So enjoyable, so much to do, and over way to quickly.

I often find myself wondering where the weekend went as I head to bed on Sunday night. Not this weekend. This time, saying the longest weekend ever is an awesome thing. It's not sarcasm about how horrible something was and I had to endure it. It was just a very nice weekend where time decided to slow down instead of speed up.

I won't go into a play by play of each day. Each day however, felt like a full weekend. I almost didn't believe it yesterday when I finally went to sleep that it was only Saturday. It was a nice full, relaxing, beautiful and long weekend. I hope I have another soon.

Why I walk

Ever since I can remember, my dad helped with the Jerry Lewis Labor Day telethon for MS. I know the first few times, I didn't understand what was going on. Just that my dad was gone even more then usual. As I got older I began to understand that this was just another form of giving back that my Dad did. I enjoyed helping. I played the cute kid card and looked for donations. I remember the first year I called in too.

One of my good friends from grade school through jr high had adoptive parents. And we never talked about it, but her mom had MS. Bad. I only remember her as being in a wheelchair. Her mom never let it hold my friend back though, and life when on. So it was never really personal for me. I could see it in front of me, but I was still to young to understand. I would later help on committees for fundraising and what not, but it was a once a year thing, and then I would forget about it until next year.

Last year I was asked if I wanted to join a team of people walking in a MS Walk. I knew a bunch of people and I thought it would be fun. I also learned that the one organizing our group was one of my fraternity sisters. She had been diagnosed with MS. It seemed a bit surreal to me. She looked well at the walk and I had seen her numerous times since. It was something that I could do.

I signed up to walk again this year. I was thinking ahead of trying to go the longer distance. I was thinking of making a goal in donations. I wasn't really thinking why. Then one night when I walked into my favorite bar, she was there with some of my friends.

It was her birthday.

She was quiet and sick and looked almost miserable.

The MS was attacking, which it does, it can go in waves apparently. I was seeing her trying to fight. She had a bag next to her with medication that was going into her arm.

This was a girl who I had gone to parties with. That had driven my drunk as home. Who had two children. This was a girl who I had missed seeing these bad times.

I have two legs, and at times, I like to be lazy. For others though, there isn't a choice and they don't know when it will hit or get worse. So much more needs to be learned. So I will walk for her. I will walk in memory of my friends mom who died right after she graduated HS. I will walk for all the kids I see each year on the telethon that people can ignore now, because there are 100's of channels to switch to.

I will walk because I can.

I sent a letter out to friends and family this week asking for their support, I'll post it up here too. There is no guilt in not donating, please don't think that. Just keep everyone effected by MS, the families and all, in your thoughts. Thanks.

I will be walking in the Lawrence MS Walk again this year on April 30th. I will be walking with a team from the Sandbar, but we are walking in support of one of my AOII sisters who was diagnosed with MS a few years ago.

I am trying to reach a goal of $250 this year in donations. I am hoping that all the little bits from everyone everywhere, it can help find a cure and that it can support the MS Society in supporting the families and those with MS and further their research.

If you are able to donate, it would be greatly appreciated. A link to my donation page should appear.

Thank you,

Caroline

Lawrence MS Walk 2011

Words are hard

There are many words that when put together with other words, are hard to say. Words that we have such a hard time saying. This can be due to past experiences, fear, or stubbornness. There are words that seem to allude our conversations, because we have pushed them so far back there, that it doesn't feel right to even say them anymore. I know what mine are.

For many these words are "I love you," that isn't so much a problem for me. I can say that. I love all my friends (ok, most of them :P). I say it routinely and freely to most of them. I do have one (or two) friends I just won't ever say it to, however. I know that they would take it the wrong way and then things would be weird, and who wants weird?!

For many these words are "I'm sorry." lol Well, I have gotten used to saying that. So much, that at times I think people don't believe me. "I'm sorry" means different things at different times to me, but I am way to empathetic, so in some form, I usually am sorry - that you are going through that, that I hurt you, etc. However, I know that when I've been fighting tooth & nail and then find out that I was wrong, I think that might be the hardest for me to say I'm sorry. ....but I don't think I am alone in that one. lol

For some these words are "I forgive you." That used to never be a problem for me. It's how I was raised. Forgiveness is a big thing. It's hard, but it does no good to harbor constant anger. So I forgive, and I used to tell people when/if they apologized. I'm not so good anymore. I still forgive (and please, don't take forgive as equaling forget) but its not as easy, and I generally don't say it anymore. I was burned way too often by that. It's easy to look like a doormat to people when you forgive them for treating you like crap too many times.

For some these words are "I need help." These are the words for me. I never really thought about it until a friend pointed out that I never actually ask for help. I kind of put it out there that I may need it, but I never ask. Or I rarely ask. It's totally true though. As my own self diagnoser, I can tell you why too. Help's fallen through so much for me. Now, this part may sound bitchy, but honestly, it's not meant to be.

I believe in the golden rule, and if I help you, you'll help me and vise-versa. So part of me thinks I shouldn't have to point blank ask. If you see me struggling, well of COURSE I need help. If I always help you with 'a', I believe that when I need help with 'a' you'll be there for me too. (And honestly, the past few years, out of some seeded spite which I am not proud of, I have stopped volunteering my help without being asked, and for some, I will just flat out say no to now.)

The other reason I don't ask is this: If I don't ask you to help, and you don't help, I don't have to be upset with you when you don't help. If I ask for help, and no one is there for me, then I get upset, because, well, what the hell? This happens. When I actually ask for help (which means I know I need it) I get turned down, or it's ignored, or they say they'll help and then never show. It's painful really. Me asking for help is me throwing myself out there, strange as that sounds. It's a way to reject me I guess. That I am not important enough to help. I don't know, it sounds weird typing it out, but well, there it is. This is *my* take on it. I know this is not what it really means when someone says no...or at least that is what I tell myself. lol

There is also the guilt issue. I know I feel bad when I can't help someone. I also know people can't always help me. So I bypass the guilt of the decision, by not asking. I really don't want people to feel like the *need* to help me, I want them to want to help me, and if they can't, done....but I want them to help me. So I go through this crazy cycle of insanity in my own head about asking *you* to help me. lol

...And with that being said, I am going to 'woman up' and email a few friends today...because I need help....and with no guilt intended, I hope I get a response.

Sometimes words are hard.

Hello, are you there blog? It's me, Caroline

I would love to say my life has been ultra busy and I have been *so* busy, that I just didn't have time to blog, but that would be a lie. I haven't lied to you all yet, and I am not going to start now. I am also not going to look at the last time I blogged. Nor, am I going to look at the last time I wrote a poem. I have been slacking. Yes, I have been doing stuff, but seriously, I know better, I can write a blog everyday. It's not as if I am afraid of sharing my meaningless drivel with you all!

I just finished a few weeks worth of re-watching the entire Battlestar Galactica series. This has honestly, taken up way more of my time and energy then I think I am willing to admit. It is over now, so I can cross that off as a 'time suck' and get back to doing things and finishing up some plans.

Oh yes, there are plans. Many of them. I also have a white board filled with things to do. I think that until most of those are done, the tv is staying off. Which of course will leave me totally out of touch with the world. I will then rely on twitter, tumblr, and what not to keep me in the loop. I would say facebook, but I really just don't get on there that much.

Ok, so this was just a slow start. I will build, and maybe have a blog of meaning for you all tomorrow, but really, you just never know. lol

Ella Wheeler Wilcox had it right

Ella Wheeler Wilcox (11/5/1855-10/30/1919) wrote a poem called Solitude many years ago. I think I learned it somewhere towards the end of grade school along with other wonderful poems thanks to my sister sharing a book with me. I used to have this poem memorized along with a few others. Solitude is only 24 lines long, but it speaks of a universal truth. Misery may love company, but company doesn't want to be around your misery. I've never really had this truth proved false.

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from a voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are not to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

Its horrible being sad, and if you are sad, you know you are miserable to be around. People can only take it for so long before they are done with you and want someone happy and shiny and new. Its life. I don't deny anyone that feeling.

Its why last week it was somewhat easy to step back. I wasn't totally miserable or sad, but I could feel it. I could see a lot of things, and mainly, I could see the shit storm of my mind coming.

I know its my fault

I am fully aware and take responsibility for the choices I made 12 years ago. I understand how that has impacted my life. Yet at the same time, damn it, I am a smart fucking person. There is no reason I shouldn't be able to get a job the (OMG!) I like AND that pays me well! There is no reason with my degree I shouldn't be able to pay off my student loans. And I should be able to once in a while go its just not fucking fair. People who didn't have the situations I had, who, in my opinion have/had it easier have it lucky. I can't help but think about how different things would be if I hadn't had to turn down the internships in D.C. If I had been able to immediately go on to Grad school.

I'm in sort of a pissy mood right now because I am tired of being pushed into corners. I am tired of feeling lame if I don't spend money. I am tired of not being able to spend money. I am just tired of a lot of shit. Its ridiculous. It passes. I try really hard to not let money get to me. And honestly, its not as bad now as it could be or the worse its ever been. I have some money in the bank...just not enough. Its never effing enough for the needs, let alone the wants. And today I am pissy about it. Today I am crying unfair on my life. I've worked to hard to just be where I am right now.

Chain resturants can make a difference

A few weeks ago one of my favorite places closed in my town. I say favorite with the understanding that it wasn't a 'local' place, it was a chain, but it felt local half the time. Old Chicago's.

It's hard to explain, but let me try. It wasn't the food, which was either ok or somewhat tasty on average. It was the people and the memories.

Many years ago I worked a church. As such I met lots of the parishioners. One of these women had a daughter around my age. My mother and her mother started talking after Mass one day. They both seemed to believe their daughters needed friends. So upon walking in to grab my son and say good bye I was told I had to meet this girl AND get her number. MOST BIZARRE THING EVER. We both just stood looking at each other with our families around wishing we could escape. To pacify everyone, we exchanged numbers and then booked it out of there in our own ways.

For weeks we would call the other randomly like 5 min before we were going out inviting the other to join us and our friends. Always knowing that we were doing what our moms wanted (so we could be honest when asked) and that we wouldn't have to actually hang out with this stranger.

The people I worked a part time job with always wanted to go to Old Chicago's after work. So one day I called her and invited her to join. Oddly enough, I had given her enough time and she was going to come. The rest is history. She joined me and my other friends there each time.

The guy(s) that I was interested went there all the time too. We played darts. Drank. Hung out. All. The. Time. I think I may have spent way too much money there that one summer. But oh it was great. After failed blind dates it was where I would meet my friends. For games or just because we were bored. The servers there were great and it was like a family. We all knew each other. We closed the place down.

I invited one of my other friends to join us, and he and my friend would flirt. It took a few times, but they ended up going out. My friend and I would meet up at Old Chicago's to catch up on how the relationship was going. Discuss gifts being bought. Fun times. My friend ended up marrying him. They now have a little girl.

When my sister came to town to get married, they didn't want to spend a lot on a reception dinner, but they wanted to go out. I suggested Old Chicago's and that was where we all went.

I had my first 'date' with someone who turned out to be one of my craziest, but good friends.

It's where I had my last dinner with one of my (at the time) best friends.

Now, over time, the people that worked there changed. They would change how they did mini-tour parties. I didn't spend as much time there. It was however, where we always defaulted to. I was comfortable there. It was the only place I didn't feel weird going to the bar alone to.

Its all done now though. The place closed. I went with my friend the last day they were open for lunch. We talked with the manager who had known us for years. We cried over the fact that the normal fare we got was already gone. She got the last cookie to take home and share with her husband. We hadn't realized how big of part that place had been in our lives. The things that would never have come about had they not existed.

Its strange how that can happen isn't it.