Living the dream, reach for the stars

The past few days have been full of the best feelings and of some intense internal battles,
but doesn't it often go that way.

Most importantly the actuality of studying abroad began this week,
not because classes started but because I actual got to live the life of a local.
My flatmate, Gwen, is an epic surfer and took us to one of the many beaches in Swansea,
but one a good ways out from campus.
The cutesy, organic cafes looking out onto the waves crashing against cliffs was absolutely jaw-dropping.
We also went out to one tonight instead of the popular techno club scene.

Staring out into a vast expanse of sea and stars with two fresh friendships in the dark is lovely on any day,
but in another country with a new British friend it is incomparable.
Especially as you are discussing the contours of life, family, and passion with people who don't already know you on that level.
It brings out the excitement of new friendships and the inner angst of being without those who already know.

I miss genuinely and extremely miss 'my people',
but I can see the new friendships coming on the horizon and cannot wait.
After the realization today that I have already been here a month I fear I have wasted time.
As I prepare to plan my birthday weekend in Prague tomorrow,
I look forward to the day-to-day additions coming as well.

I just got an e-mail from the Media Society,
which I cannot wait to jump in to and get some actual experience with my interests,
and possibly find a little direction.
Though the expanse of my interests can be quite exhilarating,
and will always continue to be on overload in this ridiculous head of mine.

Don't think, just do?

The wheels inside my head continuously turn,
leaving each answered thought disrupted by the next.
The constant veering between avenues,
only allowing for an onset of more to ponder.

Tonight the wheels are centralizing on a very cliche topic for a college student.
What path am I on and where exactly am I trying to get?

There are a couple things I know about what I want to come in the future.
I want there to be music, writing, and New York.
In what context though?

So many aspects of different sects I find thoroughly enticing:
Music production, band management, music supervisor, all behind-the-scenes television work,
concert reviews, band reviews, radio, the blogosphere, etc.
I suppose I just need to find ways to experience them,
instead of doing such an impeccable job thinking about everything.

Mellow, mellow where art thou mellow?

A negative post was not in the plan,
but what is this for if not venting.

The efficiency of this study abroad program is lacking at best,
but that can be doable.
There is one aspect that I truly cannot seem to grasp any logic for,
the living situation.

They put us in the Student Village.
The Student Village is where all the "freshers" live.
Every house surrounding me is running rampant with "freshers".

My house specifically is supposedly made up of four 18 year old boys,
three fresher girls, and three Upperclass American students.
I say supposedly because I have not had less than 8 boys in my house since I arrived.

Though it was not my reaction to college,
I understand the idea that freshers come and drink constantly into oblivion.
Fine.
My question is why would you put all of us in the middle of them?
The on-campus dorms with experienced upperclassmen seems much more logical on every count in my book.
Oh well.

I guess I will be having many middle of the night posts,
due to the loud, drunkness I am currently coated in.

Is it 2012 or something? No, a pipe burst on the fifth floor.

Time to wipe the virtual dust off my corner table.
Feels very similar to the comfort of opening your go-to favorite book.

I have been in Swansea, Wales going on 12 days now,
it feels like at least a month.
I will be in this flooding, crack-den of a dorm hall until Wednesday,
but it has had some wondrous perks.
The other American students (those not in London for the pre-sessional) live here too.
How I got so lucky is beyond me,
but each of them have made me thankful to be an American in some way or another.

Swansea itself is immaculate.
The architecture, parks, and sea are breathtaking.
It is a city meant to be explored by foot,
though the bus seems to be the peoples' choice.

It is going to take me quite longer than I expected to figure out these people known as the Welsh.
For some reason, you (or I) walk into a country with such a historical connection to your own that your subconscious
tricks you into thinking you are a similar creature.
False.
So far, similarities are much harder to come by than I imagined coming in.
You know what they say about assuming...
It would seem from our one Canadian, great statistic I know,
that Canada and the UK are contrastingly very similar.
I will save my assessment for a while.

The hardest acclamation is very easy to pin-point,
FOOD!!!!
It is no lie that flavor is lost right past the immigration line.
There has been a saving grace however,


Franco is an Italian who hates Wales,
but knows how to run a restaurant.
Vast menu and delectable food,
by far best bang for the pound.

In the coming week I will move to the Student Flats, local students will arrive, finish the teaching part of the pre-sessional course, and head to Dublin.
Perfect storm for a superb post to follow.

Love tank.

In order to understand me on any kind level beyond the surface,
one must understand a few things,
but one in particular.
Love and relationships are not something I have witnessed in the positive.

Today, I learned of the official demise of one of my oldest and dearest friend’s parents’ marriage.
This does not sound like a surprising notion today I realize,
but one must also know that I attended a very conservation and very Christian high school.
This family, so dear to my heart, falls distinctively in both of those categories.
It breaks my heart on so many levels,
to see a person who was always the most doting father peace out,
seemingly without a care.

Do people truly love one another anymore?

I have never experienced it,
or really seen it,
but I would really like to believe in it.

I am at the pathetic point of no longer enjoying many romantic stories,
because I find the concept so laughable.
If I ever had faith or hope in love,
the tank is running on light fumes.
Wish I knew where to stop to fill it up.
Finally feeling it for myself,
seems like it might be the only way.

Hate this feeling of such cynicism.
I love sarcasm and realism,
but not cynicism.

Wish that cure was easier to come by…

Book club wonderings

Bloodroot
Tunneling to the center of the earth
You can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning
The film club
Living dead in dallas
A treasury of southern folklore
The book of secrets: miracles ancient and modern
We have always lived in the castle
Dandelion wine
The young people's speaker
Twilight- william gay
The pillowman
Between the lines
Les fleurs du mal
The fountainhead
The grass harp
Music for chameleons
The ballad of the sad cafe
The heart is a lonely hunter
Wise blood.

Read a site recommending these books. Read any of them? Any suggestions of ones you enjoyed? Don't want to draw out of a hat :p

Where is the remote?

Ever experienced the moment where you know the part of a movie or show is coming, but instead of getting lost in its wonder, a shower comes through blocking the signal?
This is how I feel my life is playing out day-to-day.
My life is on pause just as I am awaiting the best part of it to begin.
I can see through the static of what is to come or what once was, but the haze is getting thicker and I am losing the soulful parts.
All the splendid parts are getting lost in translation:
The way you feel when you see someone who changed your life one day,
or the day you learned what makes you tick.
I am trying to grasp ahold of these moments that brought me to today,
awaiting the adventure that forever change how I see the world.
I cannot wait, but pause is a very uncomfortable place to sit.

Casting Call

The other day I was asked a three-part question at work,
that has lingered in my mind ever since.
Normally these type questions I blow off as wasteful,
but not this week.

"What would be the opening scene of your movie, what song would be playing, and who would play you?"

The last part of the question still fell into the "I don't give a shit" category,
but the other two stroked a chord or two.
Music is what keeps me breathing some days,
leaving that as an undertone for the immense contemplation.

I did, however, have an instantaneous reaction.
La Rocca's "Non-Believer"
The scene choice was very broad,
but the instant reaction I feel says so much.
It is what I think of my life off the cuff,
without contemplation.
As someone who contemplates everything in excess,
it took me off guard.

At least I get to contemplate the meaning of that now,
or is that one to just let be?

As I shuffle through my many, newly downloaded songs,
I now ask myself if that is actually what should be "the chosen one".
Isn't the song that ends the movie really the significant one?

I wish the movie would be interesting.
For all the thought I have wasted on it,
it should be casting soon.

Alone.

I am literally alone, with no outlet, for the first time in many years.
I don't know what to do with myself,
who am I to talk to?
I have movies and television as an outlet,
but that isn't life - much less mine.
How do I bring all the feelings to reality?
I may be in a pretty place for the next 3+ months,
but what does that mean for my mind?
I cannot keep it together.
I want that conversation and relationships,
my friends (recent real ones for sure) have kept me sane.
I am REALLY feeling the lack of New York in my life recently,
and how to live otherwise is not coming easily.
and I don't know how to fix it.
For sure, I don't know how to live without it anymore,
the suffocation is taking over.
Help.

I miss and love you.

I need New York really, really badly.
I have said many times,
once a year keeps me sane.
It is beginning to prove itself,
I need to refuel.
My soul is depleted,
I need home.
I need my reality,
screwdrivers don't give the same enlightenment.
I feel a loss and death within,
without you I have nothing.
My life and soul is depleted,
come back to me.
You are all I need in this life.

One

The sun and rain have been battling,
as have the forces within.
A burst of light explodes,
only to be doused with rain and saturated with darkness.
The view outside only deepens the parallel,
between the works of nature and man.
Could make one wonder,
Why do we forget the worlds are one?

Baker and a skyline

Twas suggested to me to share this, so I am. The details of my tattoo artist and experience.



I got it done at Pay 'N' Dues Tattoos. Small, but not tiny, funky parlor with a great vibe. Two guys hanging around. The two main artists are a husband and wife duo. Baker (last name), my artist, and Melissa. The chair was silver metal, very hair salon-esque with some grit and a story of its own. He turned on some very old school music which made me love him. He had a little squeak to his voice, that made him adorable in all his toughness. He had his sleeves blacked out, but with a couple tribal-like swirls. I asked if he didn't like his sleeves anymore and he said that he loved his sleeves and they were badass, but he loves the tribal right now. My favorite, by far, quality was that throughout our short time together he called me "hot rod". I had to sign a sheet giving basic information and and taking claim should anything go awry. I picked him because the place was suggested, but really because when I walked in I knew. There was something about his soul, and quirkiness that I adored. I knew I wanted his experience and story to intertwine with mine even if for that 30 minutes. It was just a basic, simple line - done quick and well. Pain was probably an 8, much more than the first tattoo I got. No tears or whimpers though.


Play-by-play: He drew the outline from a picture I brought. Asked if that was what I was going for. I questioned him about the Brooklyn Bridge. He said I was basically deciding between two tattoos. I chose. He put the sketch up against my foot, showing me the options in comparison with the inside of the foot to the outside of the foot. I decided I wanted the sketch to stop a little before the end. He printed out the final sketch and told me the price. I then learned it was cash only and had to run down the street to the ATM. He prepped while I was out. Black ink, gun, gloves, and stencil. Got back paid, gave him the change as tip and said "I have a feeling you'll deserve it - Baker: I am badass at tattoos (with a smile)!". He informed me "I tattoo really fast" and that i'd be done in less than five more than likely. Discussed with one of the guys who was leaving the plans for the night. "She (his wife) is going to Sassy Ann's, so i'm just planning on drinking. If your down for some drinking let me know!" - "Fuck yeah, we'll talk". He put the stencil on both sides of my foot and let me "dance-around" so I could choose. I picked and he went to town. Puts the ointment over the stencil before going over it with the needle. As he did the first piece of the line he asked if I felt badass. And later asked again after knowing it was at the painful point. He finished quickly and rubbed the ointment across and bandaged me up. Told me to leave it bandaged for 1-2 hours, clean it with soap and water, air dry, then add ointment - just enough to cover it all not globby. Told me to have a good night, I said the same, and our time together ended.

No sense at all.

Intense feelings swim through my body,
I can feel their presence in my veins.
Excitement takes a dive,
while fear does a cannon-ball.

Complete uncertainty about how and where to move forward,
might as well be hitting the accelerator and the brakes simultaneously.
A leap of faith, picture Idina Menzel's monologue in "RENT", to be happy.
New life path, complete without a map, topped with the exploration of self - and Europe.
Come on summer, treat me well,
or at least give me cheap booze to plug the fear and aid the excitement.

If it wasn't scary it wouldn't be worth it, right?
The courageous parts of life are the ones worth living.
Every boring day of my life has already been forgotten,
I think that means I don't need to have anymore.
Too young to have a life already forgotten,
Where's the diving board?
I'm ready to take this shit to the next level.

Final Distraction.

Even if the title is a dream, nothing wrong with dreams right?
Wrong. At least for today. After spending the majority of the past two semesters in a state of mass confusion, I have finally taken a step forward. Instead of using lifelong dreams and fear as a crutch, I am going to take a hard right or left. Who’s to say.

A recent revelation of wanting happiness during this short life has brought me back to the basics. With no guarantee that there is anything afterwards, there is no point in living it miserably. Time to let myself to get on a path filled with the things that cause me to exude passion and joy for life. Can’t have a tattoo forever telling the world to “find the joy in life” everyday, while knowing that I my self did not do so. Hypocrites suck.

Majors, minors I hate you both. I just want to learn. Isn’t the point to take your passions, mix it with knowledge, and create your own potion to better the world? Even if only your little world and the beautiful souls you have been blessed to have in it. Tired of running blind. Time to continue the search for my soul and its every desire. Hopefully I make the appropriate decision, so that its impact on my semester abroad will be nothing short of a reward for allowing myself to go after whatever it is I truly want. Who knows, maybe once I jump off this train Wales will light street lights along the path I choose to walk.

Are you worthwhile?

As the dreary day commenced, I scurried to throw on a fadora and get to class on time.

When I first awoke I didn't realize what a ponderous day it would become.

One question has circled through my mind all day and for the past few weeks. What is it that makes a relationship worthwhile? Whether it be a romantic relationship, friendship, or relative - what is it that makes certain ones so special?

Is it mutual respect? Maybe an unrivaled ability to make you laugh? What draws you back to that same person everyday? Each person who's apart of my life in some way is circling through my mind, and I am becoming sickeningly aware of some relationships that do not make me grow or become better. Is that a requirement? Intellectual stimulation has become almost as important as a good laugh in my world. I have always pined for it, but was never truly aware of how it is so close to breath in this short life. Funny and smart - I have seen it happen, I will find you.

I checked the mail today, only to find something from Thailand. Why would my father mail me something? It turned out to be nothing other than my W-2, but it brought to light the fact that I knew when opening it that it wouldn't actually be something from him. Recent contemplations of relationships have shown me that though I have moved past the pain, I live those experiences everyday by how they have shaped my personality, who I am in general, and how I see the world. It is not something I can just leave in the past and act as though it never happened. Though I will never have a relationship with my father, I have learned an immense number of life lessons from him. I suppose that is his job, right? I now know exactly how not to treat people, which is something I am specifically grateful to have learned early in relation with adulthood. I fail miserably some days, but I am thankful to be aware. Due to his contribution, I am genetically programmed to build relationships at arms length. It is, honest to god, the thing I love and hate most about myself. It has given me a great people perception, but at the same time, I still struggle with allowing in those I have come to trust. In case we never speak again,

"Thanks for allowing me to appreciate all people, music that stirs the soul, appreciating an amazing meal & glass of fine wine, and most importantly a passion to see as much of the world as I possibly can. Hope you got what you wanted out of your life."

fuck that - this apple is a different shade.

I have always been the independent girl who has never prioritized boys. All the goals and ambitions have taken the top slot for most of my life. As I sit and stress at 4 AM about what will come years from now, I realize I should probably be worrying about the classes only hours away instead. Unfortunately, however, the fear of whether or not I am on the right path takes precedence. A successful lawyer who would probably be a workaholic was a future I was not only okay with, I was excited about it. As I continue to grow into myself I am realizing that is not all I want. A lonely workaholic in the city who might still be unsuccessful in this work force and economy is not what I want for my life. I do not want to be my father. Fuck apple and tree metaphors, I decide my life. A miserable life alone and bitter with a fake smile for the world is not the future I should be building for this short life of mine. I do want to find someone to share it with, not to mention friends to help laugh off the day. Writing and music have become the things that bring me joy, how to make that my life? Funny it is said college is when you find yourself, I wish half way through didn't feel and seem like too late to change your mind. It just might be.
Since when do I allow fear to control and inhibit me. I believe if I work hard I will be a damn good lawyer. I suppose the real question needing to be answered is can you, specifically I, have both parts of life successfully. I will definitely have to plant a new tree for that one.

The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow...

Spring Break came and went with a vengeance.

It was peaceful and quaint,

I adored it.

The only negative was not picking up one of the many books I have bought,

and have yet to read.

Other than the glorious nine-mile beach side bike rides,

as an impeccable change to my cardio regimen,

the best part was the two days in Nashville.

I got to be surrounded once again by the creatives I love so much.

Two of my absolute favorite people welcomed me home,

guitars in hand.

No better hello.

How I miss the days spent discussing such rivoting parts of life,

with such beautiful people.

To put simply,

I adore them and their amazing talents.

Go figure,

none of them realize just how much talent they possess.

I will soon be in that place in life that I want to be,

and I am beginning to see the light come up over the horizon.

Knoxville is a pothole on the drive into the city,

I'll be there soon - smiles a blazin'.

Until then,

Wales I look forward to a semester growing through you,

and your neighbors.

the perfect storm

Soul depleting as everything else suffocates.
Been drowning through the perfect storm,
As the waves continue to crash.
Grasping and grasping,
I cannot reach the surface.
Will it ever come,
How long can the body take the suffrage?
Small, quick breaths and moments of light,
Only keep the organs functioning.
Twenty years have come and gone,
I need meaning behind my breath.
And yet I have only seen a glimpse of the sunshine outside of this storm.
Mother nature allow the storm to cease,
and my soul to release.

Come alive.

A lifeline to the soul is deep conversation.

I say this as a fact,

in part because I cannot comprehend a refute,

and more importantly because to me it is.

There are very few other ways to feel such a connection,

with yourself.

Once it begins,

your core might as well be carbon dioxide,

out there for the world to process.

When a topic of passion presents itself,

or even of mild interest,

submerge yourself in the opportunity,

to come alive.

Social Networking

I have come to realize why I find Twitter so enticing.

Over-using it as I may be,

it is a way to send out every spiraling thought,

but to also have them responded too.

The joy I get in meeting people all over taken to a new level.

Every time Tweetdeck announces that I have a mention,

A little burst of excitement and curiosity explodes within.

Knowing that it could be anyone across the world,

who felt compelled to respond to a random thought escaping my mind.

Oddly enough I get just as much excitement responding to the random thoughts of others.

Not to mention the intense rate at which I now receive news,

What do I need any other app for?

I Never Look Again

Today when the sun first bathed against my face,
it was like I had been reborn.
Days without her guiding my walk had taken its toll.
The RayBans return as well as the smile,
Happy Thursday world,
its a beautiful one.



gone so fast,
like a wave on the sand.
a knife to butter,
I never look again.
just like the world,
you'll never understand.
when I'm done - I'm done,
I never look again.

Let the Flood Gates Open

During my immense hiatus I told myself I would regularly write thoughts in a journal.
The hold technology has on the world is baffling.
I find written words incredibly beautiful, and yet cannot remember to partake in them.
Sadly my time on the computer is so great,
that blogging is the only outlet that will get used appropriately.
I suppose the journal can be there for distinct moments,
while living life in need of documentation.

My soul has missed letting loose.
I now give it the go ahead.

Today is one of those days I am a self-depricating artist without the talent.
In concordance with realizing just how meant to being a lawyer I really am.
My mother agrees.
There are many a time I wish I was a little more comfortable with gray areas,
but I have come to accept there are very few for me.
Needless the say, no matter how much I care about something or someone,
I get no comfort in the realms of 'limbo'.
I envy those who do it blissfully, with a sense of absolute peace,
As pure the vodka they drink.

I, no matter how boring it may be, thrive on a feeling of consistency.
When I consistently do and have something,
glory be in highest whoever you are.

Music is something I have a deep and brooding passion for.
So much so you would think my self-deprication came from a deserving place.
It doesn't.
After being pegged a 'music snob' this past week it dawned on me.
The black and white detriment strikes again.
If not of a certain genre with a certain level of musical talent,
I'm bored.
That is so fucked up for someone who is supposedly not judgmental and loves those who dream.
Fuck me and my opinions,
Live your truth whether I think you're talented or not.
What do I know?
Nothing.