Emotional Waste

Someone once told me that they didn’t enter into relationships because they didn’t want to use up emotional energy on someone that was not worth it.  At the time, I couldn’t understand it.  Now I understand all too perfectly.  I’ve put some much energy into matters that didn’t deserve the time of day.  I seem to do this frequently.

I pick men that are below me.  Somewhere I think I can save them, change them into better beings.  I can’t.  The only thing that ends up being changed is me.  I’m no longer my bubbly self, but this worried and upset self.  I’m slowly being drained of all the energy I possess.  They don’t change.  They don’t know how to become better people.  Instead they just wallow in their normal routines, doing thing and hanging with people I cannot stand. Their ambitions don’t improve.  It is a waste.

I cannot date someone below me.  No matter how much a boy can enchant me, if they don’t meet my standards then I cannot date them.  I’m tired of dating boys who don’t meet my standards.

From now on it is quite simple.  I am 24.  I want a future.  I want to move out.  I want a family, a job, a house.  I want these things.  I should not settle for someone younger who is not mature enough to handle these things.  I’m tired of boys who think they are men.  I know what I want and I’m not settling for anything less.

For now, I learn to be by myself.  That is the only thing I can do.

Putting My Anxiety Into Words

So my mother went to Cape Cod for the week. Most children would be ecstatic to be home all alone without parents. I'm sadly not that case...

When I was diagnosed with all my various issues, one that struck out at me was adjustment anxiety. This diagnosis came as I had just moved out to start college. Moving to college is a huge adjustment period for most people. Most people also make new friends and are perfectly fine with staying in a small room with no where else to go but that small room which is shared with a perfect stranger. I, on the other hand, had a huge problem with this. I was paired with a blond barbie doll and sharing a bathroom with an entire floor of girls. In short, it was a nightmare all on its own. At this point I had no driver's license and couldn't even go anywhere beyond the four small walls that I shared with the barbie. While my psychologist had said I was fine to go away to school, it was a lie. I was not fine as the two trips to the hospital for panic attacks in 5 days clearly showed me. I gave in and went home.

Seven years later, I realize that I could have moved out at some point. At times I even would love to move out. But in moving out, I would have a roommate, someone I would know and trust. That would make the transition more comfortable for me. I could adjust to such a situation without any discomfort.

It is not that I don't like alone time because I do. Everyone loves alone time for a certain length of time. My best alone time is in my car or when I have a day off that my mother does not. I could deal with half of my day being strictly alone time, but when I go to sleep at night I need someone else in my vicinity.

In the last week, I have moved my room upstairs. For five years, the plan has been to move upstairs to the 2nd and 3rd floors of the house. I took the initiative and moved upstairs since my room was ready. I was even promised an air conditioner for my room to alleviate the heat. It was all the perfect setting to move upstairs, so I did.

This move proved to be a bigger adjustment that I had anticipated. For starters, if I want to pee, I have to go downstairs. In the middle of the night, I am liable to be locked out of my house so I always need my keys in my room upstairs. I'm not even a member of the household anymore. I have no cats, no people, no bathroom, nothing on my floor of the house. I am as good as alone. There are no familiar sounds to wake me up in the morning. There is only silence. If I want to get dressed, the bathroom and my closet are downstairs, my hair brush, deodorant and what not is upstairs. Getting ready is now a two floored process. My parents also love to constantly remind me how there is nothing between me and the outside world if someone should care to rob the house. There is the outside door and that's it. Instead of the two doors required to break through if I was on the 1st floor, there is only one door and then the 2nd floor is all open. It make me feel highly unsafe. This is all a lot to take in for the moment.

Now let's add the icing to the cake. My mom, the only person I basically interact with all week since my dad works such long hours is gone. There will be no one when I wake up in the morning. There will be no one when I go to bed at no one. No one will be making me dinner or lunch or be there to talk to. Not even the comfort of just knowing someone is around is in my mind. I am, for the first time in my life, just simply alone.

I know at 24 I need to get used to being alone, but I just can't. I never have been able to. I'm a needy person. I crave human contact. I don't know how to even begin to change this. My only thought is who could I possibly ask to keep me company this week. The only answer is no one. Everyone I basically thought of as a close college friend is now all over the East Coast. Jill is in Philly, Chris in Rhode Island, James in PA, Maria in NYC, Matt in CT. I am broke (which is another blog in and of itself) and just alone. It sucks...wish I took my meds more regularly for me not to be in such a dire mindset. Unfortunately, I'm too stupid/lazy/stubborn/forgetful to take them.

Why I don't like birthdays

When you are little, the fairytales seem to come true on your birthday. All your wishes come true right before your very eyes. Everything you wanted, you now have it. Of course, when you are little, the most you want is some new toys and attention. As the birthday child, you are the center of attention as everything is about you.

As you grow older, the magic of your youth birthdays are gone. The expectations are different now and to me, they are never met even though I don't think I know what I am expecting.

What am I expecting...I still don't know. Perhaps I am just waiting to change, change into someone more responsible. If I am waiting for that, I might be waiting forever. Perhaps I am just waiting for my life to start.

I feel stuck, stuck in so many ways. Stuck with my parents, stuck in school, stuck doing things that make me unhappy, stuck in my house, stuck forever in the wrong place...I want to unstuck. Well, unlike my former marlin, I can't just remove my foot from where I placed it to unstuck. Quite simply I am, Oh no, Oh dear, I'm stuck! Help!

In a small tangent, thinking about my marlin and the rest of them just really hurt. Perhaps I miss my dysfunctional room more than I thought I would. I miss my school mommies and my kids, they were as much a part of me as I am of them. Unfortunately this relationship is lopsided since they probably don't remember me by now. I'll remember them for the rest of my life.

I am 24. I am stuck. Certain items listed above will unstuck with time, others will not for a while. I'm not necessarily unhappy with my life, just unhappy with my birthday. It is just a reminder than I have to wait. My students couldn't wait and perhaps I can't either. My patience was used up with them, now I just want to move leaps and bounds forward forgetting that I am attached to the floor.

Happy

In a month, I have managed to change my life completely around. I have made new friends and new beginnings. I'm ready for the next phase of my life. I'm done with the dark. It is time for a new Allie, a better Allie. I mean it this time.

Old but Still Me

I found a piece of writing in my attic. Probably written in a moment of desparation some five or six years ago. I kinda like it, so I figured I would stick it here where it wouldn't crumble.

Lost and not found...Sure I am on meds that help me be happy, but I'm still lost. I am nowhere nearer to my dreams than when I conceived them. I have all these ideas that I wish to carry out, but probably will never get to. It makes me wish that there was another version of me. As if I had a double or dissociative disorder, another personality that I could have. A stronger one, a personality that would cut all this shit and accomplish what I need to do. Right now I choose to live in my imagination.

I dream of castles and pretty things...of a time long ago. It reminds me of something I heard in a conversation with my lovely Magnet kids, probably Alex, Blair or Derek. We were born during the wrong period to which I fully agree. My head is filled with romantic views of castles, long velvet dresses and chivalry. It lives only in my imagination because, as we can see in the present, chivalry is dead. I might have managed to capture one of the best guys out there, but he knows nothing of chivalry. He does not "court" me by impressions. I must be too good for that now. It makes me ponder as to whether or not I have made a mistake in my choice. Then again, who knows? Only time will tell as to what is right.
Back into my imaginative realm...
I should write my own books about these ideas that flow into my head, but I doubt that words will do these ideas any justice. How sad that I have no the talent to write, paint or compose a film to capture the beauty that flows through my head. Many things in my life will never transpire to word.

Most of this is true even still today. I see the beginnings of some interesting points, but like I wrote, it will probably never transpire to word.

Everyone Knows Someone

So more Children of Bodom this weekend. Usually this enough for a whole workings of a post, but it wasn't this weekend. Yes, talking with Henkka was golden, it always is. The guy is super sweet. He is probably the only person I will ever talk to about soccer EVER. Cindy touched Henkka's fly which was pure hilarity, but even bringing them a cake and going backstage the next night was nothing compared to the weekend in total.

I found myself. Granted I found myself and then proceeded to crumble into a thousand shards, I found myself at the bottom. Where have I been hiding all this time? I crawl into these bubbles, my therapist and I nicknamed them apathy bubbles. I just settle. I don't strive, I just sink to where I think its ok for me to be. It is very much not ok. Though I love Dark Tranquillity's song Lost to Apathy, it is not a way to live.

I LOVE music. It is a huge part of my being. I love going to shows. I like meeting people and being social. I am a social being. Just talking to music industry people all weekend was fascinating. I met two people that made impacts, though one knows it and not the other. I forgot the joy of talking to new people, to be that brave. It takes a lot for me to talk to strangers, but I'm so glad I did.

As much as I failed in some aspects this weekend with getting work done and what not, I accomplished so much more. For months I felt lost, but I'm here. Covered in mess, but I'm alive. Thank you for the people I went with and to whomever controls fate or destiny, thank you for everything else. Now I'm going to stop being cryptic and finally sleep.

Across the Universe

I love this movie. I love everything about it. It is just so special. It is everything I wish I could have made in a movie. It is artsy, takes a few views to get a hold of, but it is simply beautiful.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night...

These are but the melodies that haunt my dreams. My artistic vision is slowly seeping back, too slowly for my liking. Even then, it is still much more than a month ago. By the beginning of May I should feel better, more like myself, less like an impostor.

I want to write what I feel, not what people think I should write, but I have no choice about it. For now I'm a cog in the machine. Hah, if my professors only realized how much I understood about what they teach. I get criticism, I just don't care for it. I'm creative, not studious.

I vow to write. I need to write for myself. It is one of the simple pleasures of my life. I need to do what I love in order to feel like myself, it is the only way I will survive.

Into the Night

I am a lost creature of the night. This belief reaffirms itself in the spring once it gets warm outside. I like the night. The sun seems to hurt me oddly. My migraines are worst when the sunlight shines. The warmth and the sunlight make me want to throw up. I've had a migraine for the last three days and the daylight is simply evil.

In my head I would like to believe that vampires are real. I would like to believe that I should be one. The night is just a totally different concept that the day. I'm more comfortable in darkness, it feels more like home. It could be one of the many reasons why teaching is stressing me out so badly, all that daytime. Somehow I don't think that's the answer, but I rather wish it was. I can't manage it all, that's what's killing me currently.

Teaching and being a student was never part of the plan. I've always secretly wanted to be given a position when someone went on maternity leave, but now I know I'm not meant for that. This temporary PSD class is just an odd form of murder. I can't keep up with everything, its draining. I keep getting sick and I forgot what it is like to be my normal self.

I DJ now, like right now and I'm so fucking tired. Too tired to talk on air much and I know I sound like shit, but there is nothing I can do about it. I miss being excited for shows and other things, but right now there is literally nothing. There is the void in which I only sleep, or so it seems. Sleep, eat, teach, read some homework, sleep, eat, repeat. That has sadly become my life.

If I go out, its with Steve. Steve makes me feel ok and basically does everything for me. Its sad that I feel so dependent on people after I'm done with work. At work I do so much that I have no more to give. There is nothing to me anymore beyond this classroom. That is not how I want to define myself. I've lost definition, I am nothing.

I want myself back. The girl who bounces at music, goes to shows and doesn't give a shit. The girl who believes in vampires and reads too much bad vampire fiction. I want me into the night...

Meets and Greets

I DJ at 89.5 FM WSOU on Saturday nights from 8PM until midnight. It's just something I've done for fun since June of '05. Each DJ gets an engineer. So my engineer for half of my shift is Omar. He had his first band meet and greet today. It makes me reminisce...


The first band I ever met was Trivium. This was before they were big, before Matt had long hair. This was Ascendancy and Matt and Corey were 19. I went up the elevator and there were some people I had never met in the elevator with me. So stupid me, I ask, who are you? I didn't know of Trivium at the time so when they told me who they were, I still had a blank face. What can I say, I'm that girl.

Trivium will always have a special place in my heart for that. Matt had short hair at the time and was talking about high school, girls and crocodiles though not in that order. I've met Trivium once or twice since then. I did make them cupcakes the next time I saw them for The Crusade album. Apparently they were good, Matt took them for his dad who helps manage them.

Since The Crusade, I haven't like Trivium half as much. Supposedly Shogun is supposed to be better, but I haven't been inclined to listen to it. I'm still stuck on Children of Bodom and Slipknot for the moment. Eventually I'll listen....eventually....someday I'll get to all the music I want to listen to.

The whole purpose of this post was to remind myself that I want to make a list of all the bands I have seen in concert/how many times and what bands I've met. Someday I shall grow old and feeble minded and not remember, so it's better to start thinking of this now.

Off to make my list, with the list will come more Meet n Greet stories. There are plenty of them....

Flu-ing

I have been avoiding the computer for the last week or so as well as battling the flu. I will try to type something up when it no longer feels so damn awkward to type. Why must everything be so awkward sometimes?

This Is Probably a Bad Thing

So lately I have been working in an austistic Pre-K room. I kinda secretly love it. I wouldn't want to do regular Pre-K, its not for me. These kids are special though. You can't really discipline them, you kinda just have to roll with it. Its a different thing, it almost makes me want to be a special education Pre-K teacher. Almost...

Its fun to do crafts all the time. They don't really write or read. Talking in any form of a coherent sentence doesn't really exist. It is all about getting them to do things for themselves like potty training or just using scissors. Simple things that I take for granted is hard for them. Pulling up their pants while still in the bathroom stall is a chore for them. Staircases are hard, holding a pencil is hard, so many things for them are hard.

Its timeless in that class, class periods don't really exist. You don't teach reading, writing, science, but rather whatever you can get through with them. They count and many other things, but then again they don't sit still through a story reading. The attention span is short and you can't really put them back on task. Maybe this is my calling, who knows...I just really like them.

I've been mad since yesterday. I realize the only time I completely forgot about it was when I was at work. I love my co-workers, they are awesome. My students are special, that's the best way to describe them, special. Sometimes I get kisses, sometimes i get hit, I just roll with it. If I could, I would decorate the hell out of that classroom and make it a fairytale for those kids. As it is, there is more crafting supplies than I could possibly have an idea for. I LOVE IT.

I know I'm going to get kicked out eventually, but for now I adore it. I'll take every second I can get. In the meantime I'm having a blast :)

Well That Was a Waste of Time

So I got to meet Slipknot members today. Woo hoo...it was enjoyable and all, just stuff happened that made me upset.

I will preface this with the fact that I used to cry a lot, especially in high school. I cried in front of almost every teacher and then some. I tried not to do this in college and I'm really trying not to do it at the radio station. I strive to keep my cool as often as possible.

So today Corey and Shawn come up. I'm slightly disappointed that Joey didn't come up, but that's more than ok. It was a great interview, Greg handled it well. Corey was hyper and it was hilarious. I'm glad I got to see him. It was more what happened as they left and what not.

About two weeks ago, I asked Greg to go to the show with me. I hate going to shows alone much less arenas, but that's a different matter He said he didn't know if he had tickets so I waited because I too didn't have tickets. I assumed we would go to Camden together on Saturday. As the band is leaving, Wally asks Greg to go with him and Greg says yes. I just stare in disbelief, perhaps I made the assumption that I was going with Greg, I still have no idea. Greg just assumes I have tickets. When we go listen to the IDs, Greg never put my name on the list. Well two blows to me causes tears to well into my eyes.

If there wasn't a room full of people, I would have slammed Greg into a wall. Well actually I did slam Greg into a wall. But I wanted to yell and cry and just let it all out. As I write this it seems to be coming all out.

Steve told me last week that Greg and people I think are friends really don't give a shit about me. I try to think that Steve isn't right, mainly because I always try to prove that Steve isn't right. Somehow this whole incident with Greg makes me think that Steve is right, that Greg doesn't care about me. I really don't want to believe this, really I don't.

I confronted Greg and yet I don't fell better. I should have cried. I should have yelled. He said he will try to get me tickets. My options stand as either going to MSG tomorrow night alone or going to Camden Saturday with Jackie. I don't like either option.

I know this seems like a giant whine, but it does mean something to me. Music, for better or worse, is my life.

You Don't Know Me

I would like to know where people got the idea that I'm a band groupie. I'm a firm believer than I am a Band-Aid. Now to get my reference you will have had to watch Almost Famous. If you haven't watched Almost Famous, then why are you reading my blog, you should be watching one of the greatest movies ever. I don't want to sleep with anyone in a band. Well...a kiss would be nice, but after that, no thank you and this only applies to like two or maybe three guys out there anyway.

Everyone is freaking out about a band that is coming up to WSOU this week. I've been told to stay away, but what the hell am I really going to do? I'm not going to gawk at these individuals or freak out. I leave my freaking out moments to before and after said meeting. I will freak out, there is no question of that especially since one of the guys might be one of the aforementioned guys I would actually kiss. Unbeknown to people, I do actually have the ability to control myself within certain situations. I tend to think my social skills are good even though other things may be lacking.

Mainly I like meeting people who inspire my thoughts about music and writing in general because I admire them. They are people just like you and me that have achieved the ability to move others with their creations. I wish I could do that. Just meeting them is inspiring enough for me, but no one gets that. I really wish I could put a post-it note on me sometimes that has this sort of disclaimer: Allie is not as celebrity obessed as appears.

I just honestly wish I could ask questions. I wish I was the one doing the interview even though that would get me anxious. One on one talking is fine, me plus famous people plus radio is a disaster. The pressure of knowing others are listening is a bad idea. I can't talk on the radio when I'm relatively alone, how am I supposed to do with people I admire there. I'd come off looking like a jerk.

My questions are simple, what makes you get up in the morning. Why? I guess I wish I could put together some meaning of life out of these questions. For all I know, their answers could be the keys I need to piece together my own life.

I know they don't want to meet people and I get that. I'm sure they wish they could slip back into obscurity sometimes, but they can't. This is the part that gets me, do I wait all day to meet them or do I not. They really don't want people there, but at the same time I feel compelled to do this. Part of me would die if I didn't try at least, part of me doesn't want to bother them. It happened during the bar meeting with COB. Part of me just wants to observe them, part of me wants to talk to them. I don't want to annoy, but yet I want to know.

Even those with me that night at the bar with COB don't get it. I didn't want to take a picture with Alex Skolnick cause I was intimidated, but because I didn't want to bother the man. He just wants to drink and relax, he doesn't want to take a picture with me. I got mad at Chris cause he said something dumb to Alexi and it made me feel all embarassed. I don't want to gawk at the band coming up, I merely want to observe. If I get a picture, fine. If I get an autograph, stellar. Mainly I just want to see them with me own eyes, ascertain the fact that they are real.

Sometimes I get the feeling that I am underestimated and that many assumptions are made as to who I am...

Babies

So my friend Nikki had a baby recently. It was completely unplanned. She just went to the hospital and came back with a baby girl.

I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

In high school, I would have the kids. Liz would be the doctor and have a stay at home husband with one kid. Nikki would be the crazy cat lady all alone reading her books. She never wanted a kid. Needless to say, life did not turn out this way. Liz is in medical school, like she should be. Nikki went to law school.

This was my first flabbergast moment. Nikki and law? It is supposed to be Nikki and English, not law. Nikki is a law student in the city and she absolutely hates it like I knew she would. I see her point about getting a doctorate and being a professor, law is just not the way I would have gone about it. I would have gone about it the way I'm currently going, in graduate school for English.

Now Nikki has a baby. It is quite odd. She pokes her little "demon spawn" in the nose in a way that someone who wanted to be a mother never would. Megan is more doll than actual child. Sometimes I don't believe she is real, I wonder if Nikki feels this way? Is it all a dream? I'm completely disregulated by it. Nikki is just holding on by strings. I feel horrible for her, she is basically alone with no help (I mean mentally). She can't quit law school, she won't even take a semester off. I just want her to make it, much more than I want myself to make it through grad school. She has worked hard to get to law school, I've been a slacker. She deserves this much more than I do.

In the meantime I'll probably end up buying or knitting Megan way too many things, clothes, toys and whatnots. I'll help in whatever way I can even though I'm 23 and have no real job. We have to stick together, we are only children. In the end, if the situation were reversed, I'm sure Nikki would take care of me too.

To Begin

I should really be asleep, but I'm not. Every night is getting harder and harder to sleep. So instead I create a blog. Nicole said I should, so I will. I will eventually put up stories and just random thoughts.

1st Random thought:
I have always wanted to listen to Children of Bodom's Blooddrunk outside when snow is falling. The beginning of the song seems to correspond to something just seems magical, the soft nice snow before it goes into a horrible car crashing, vision-limiting blizzard. It has always been this outlandish dream since I hate going outside when it snows. And for the image to be right, it would have to snow for a while so that there is snow on the ground and sidewalks, etc. The other night as I drove home, snow found me. It was perfect. I literally drove around my house for like 10 minutes just listening to the beginning of the song over and over again while driving in the snow. (By the way, this was at about 1 am)

This is just the beginning of what associations I make when listening to music. I'm sure I will go into it even more as this blog grows. So much music, so little time.

Perhaps I should sleep...