Do you follow @moreinteresting on Twitter?  If you dont then I really dont think we can be friends anymore because she is AHMAZING!  Her thoughts and words have meaning and her writing is unique and intricate.  Love her and I am sure you will too!!

…And then it comes to me that I can’t maintain any part of self.

March 2, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons III
AM TRAIN

This is a reminder to take a picture of the parking pay box sign on Madison, near Wacker. It’s softening the blow. This can’t keep being about loss. But it still feels like there should be more to this, a keyboard or piano, a cello or guitar, a clear voice. A clear voice. Vocalization, not even words. A sigh, a tone, notes, more. But this will have to be enough. After all, this is all you will get. Why should I have more?

PM TRAIN

As I was walking to the Metra station, snowflake-bombs were hitting the sidewalk ahead of me, around me, and exploding. Combusting? Imploding? I cannot focus on one out of hundreds. I cannot stop, get on the ground in the cold & examine a singular instance of the phenomenon. I can keep walking surrounded by wonders; and filled by them. All with the constant fear of falling from grace.

March 3, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons IV
AM TRAIN

Tracked this mix for Ange, so she can do her job to some beats. You can listen along at home:

“Housekeeping sucks but this Mix sure doesn’t!”

Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen) (2007 Mix) - Quindon Tarver
Do It - Nelly Furtado
Bleed It Out - Linkin Park
Girls Who Play Guitars - Maximo Park
Damn Girl - Justin Timberlake
Psycho - The Faint
Rock Star - R. Kelly featuring Ludacris & Kid Rock
Hook Me Up - The Veronicas
I’m the Bomb - Electric Six
Is It Any Wonder? - Keane
Let’s Make Love and Listen to Death from Above - CSS
I Turn My Camera On - Spoon
Dirt Off Your Shoulder (Produced By Timbaland) - Jay-Z
Up Until the Lights Go Out - Your Vegas
Ooh Ooh Baby - Britney Spears
Dropkick The Punks - The Faint
No Hay Igual - Nelly Furtado
Many Moons - Janelle Monae
Milkshake - Kellis
Dance With Me - The Sounds
Cantaloop (Flip Fantasia) - US3
Steady As She Goes - The Raconteurs
Boyz - M.I.A.
La La - Ashlee Simpson
Give It To Me - Timbaland Feat. Nelly Furtado & Justin Timberlake
Let Me Talk to You Prelude / My Love - Justin Timberlake
Dare (Radio Edit) - Gorillaz
Keep Your Head - The Ting Tings
Daydreamin’  Featuring Jill Scott - Lupe Fiasco

PM TRAIN

Not much going on, just a lot of running, repeating circuits. Odd that there is the occasional human who will point that out. Most think I’m just changing direction. I go forward, even if it’s just in time and not space, we are all moving the one way, there is no other. So my circuit retraces space & relationships but there is no backward. There is no real backward, no re-visiting, no “been there before & am here again” just similarity or new and back. That’s why there is more or less. The birth of comparison out of need to relate an experience, your experience that can never be duplicated. Remind me to develop this later. I’m shutting down, my mind is closing my eyes.

March 4, 2009

Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons V this may be poetry
AM TRAIN

I don’t want to be writing right now. I want to be sleeping. I want to be looking through the window out into the world. I see unfinished houses & construction vehicles, gas stations, dirt, factories– some dormant & some only appearing to be. But I’m not looking out the window. I’m looking into this blank page a little less blank now. And I’m not just staring blankly, my mind idle. I am looking for something, not sure what but the action is still active, still aggressive, still showing signs of life. This is not the TV-watching, scenery-enjoying, fast-asleeping brain. That train of thought has derailed and wrecked, I’m the 1st EMT on the scene. It’s all on-fire & it’s dangerous & I’m venturing… now racing to contain this blaze. I came in an ambulance. I’m no fire-fighter. There are no screams from survivors, only the constant cry of flatlined metal being gently licked to death by flames. I don’t think of the eventual blooms that will grow out of the
 scorched Earth, only of these parts of me slowly burning beyond recognition.

PM TRAIN

Strategies for Happiness:

Vaseline on Teeth

March 5, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons VI
AM TRAIN

WORK

This morning was about lists a.n.d tasks & getting on track. Too appropriate for me & the train to really get too deep. Just waded in the shallow end, my hand resting on the surface of the water, getting as close as possible with out breaking the tension. And there was tension, slightly palpable, not yet registered in conscious time but progressing, growing in its Existence, determined to become something more. Bigger. Like morning should. Now, at work, it’s about the gnawing, the hunger. And I’m anxious. I wasn’t expecting a new frontier for a while. This is the fear of the unknown. And this is the hunger for the thrill of it. And this is the certain knowledge that it will not work out no matter how careful I plan. This is facing doom and just plain smiling,Vaseline on my teeth.

PM TRAIN [attempt at cohesive narrative]

Watched a safety video at work today about ‘Slips, Trip and Falls’ in health care environments. It turns out, in order to understand about ‘falls,’ you must first understand ‘gravity.’ In order to understand about ’slips’ you must know about ‘friction.’ And finally, to understand ‘trips,’ learn first of ‘momentum.’ The next 20 minutes was video of people having accidents. It was my most rewarding day at work to date. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if I could have laughed as hysterically as I wanted to without being fired. Then I began thinking of some accidents I’ve had and what I’d need to understand first in order for the occurrence to make sense. Say, for instance, these 2 short texts I got on Valentine’s Day. I cannot wrap my mind around this guy’s total fail and would like to share it withthe world, give it some perspective. As follows:

“Were you walking down Rush Street earlier today? I thought I walked by you for sure.”

Having just left the apartment to go to lunch/shopping with my roommate, I responded that it could not have been me for such reasons.

“I can’t tell women apart these days. Though I did think you had better taste in men based on this chick’s bf. Enjoy your valentines day.”

I didn’t answer. Not that I didn’t want to but I was slightly dumbfounded & completely speechless at this amazing fail. Allow me toexplain/dissect.
   1. You text me out of the blue when we have encountered each other only twice, once, a fling [defined here as a 4-hour drunken, half-naked kiss-a-thon, after which I *still* wouldn’t sleep with you] back in early December, and again: at a mutual friend’s party where I was pretending to be *his* girlfriend. Fail.
   2. That text is on Valentine’s Day. I’m actually *offended* that you thought of me. Fail.
   3. You obviously [think you] walked by me and pretended to not know me. Or you thought that I care enough about you to do the same. Either way, you think that this is ok. Fail.
   4. When I explain it was not me, you call yourself an unbelievably gigantic sexist pig… in so many words. Fail.
   5. “Though I did think you had better taste in men based on this chick’s bf.” You’re either putting down my taste in men, and yourself by proxy or just yourself. Either way, I now *know* you’re a complete dumbass. [And putting yourself down magically transforms into good common sense] Epic Fail.
   6. Follow that up with: “Enjoy your Valentine’s Day”? WTF?!

Am I wrong? Is it just me? What am I missing here?

March 8, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons VII symptom
AM TRAIN

Symptom:
   * anything that indicates, or is characteristic of, the presence of something else; especially a perceived change
   * evidence of disease or damage
   * anything that accompanies X and is regarded as an indication of X’s existence
Proof of disease… Because you don’t know you have it until there is proof. A rash, a sharp breath, a repeated repeated repeated action. A pointer or a pointer finger pointing. And then the medication. The pill, the cream, the inhaler, the acid, the laser… The Cure? No. The evidence eradication / extraction / suppression / modification of symptom. So we are fooled. So we are fools. We forget the disease inside us, forget we are not truly well or changed or free. We are shackled by medication, dependent on leeching, on blood-letting, on pill-popping, cream-rubbing all over our bodies & minds to hide what’s inside… Make-up for the guts. Rouge-Ruse. We go about our days our weeks & years & lives thinking we are cured or better or at least altered beings.

Altered:
   * changed in form or character without becoming something else
   * alter - change: become different in some particular way, without permanently losing one’s or its former characteristics or essence
   * alter - interpolate: insert words into texts, often falsifying it thereby
   * alter - remove the ovaries of
The state of matter, our state of matter, of being, is not altered. We forget about our ailment, live without caring for it, until one day we awake missing a piece of ourselves. They amputated a foot, they extracted a bit of a soul. They… the disease alters you, proves your cure did nothing. They sacrifice a piece of you to the god that you forgot existed, that you never properly worshiped… a piece of you you never knew you were giving up until today, when you looked down & saw your heart was just plain gone. Nothing steps in, Nothing takes its place.

March 9, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons IIX
AM TRAIN

Any true editing will pare all of this away. Editing would pry sentences apart, widening the space between words or thought. It would disassemble and reassemble and repeat until I’m not sure anymore what I may have meant but maybe, just maybe, merely maybe… what’s left will be close to but not quite cohesion.

March 11, 2009
Chapter 4: Thoughts & Lessons IX
PM TRAIN

I tried to imagine you reading this as someone with any sort of real writing skill (with regards to pulling things together, as of course I am a brilliant writer / brain-leaker) would weave together for your ‘Near-R.E.M.-Trying-To-Read-At-The-Speed-Of-Light-WTF?-Did-Stephanie-Meyer-Write-This-Because-I’m-Devouring-These-Pages-Like-A-Tween-Reading-Twilight’ pleasure. On this page, I’m sitting in the train station, on the 2nd wooden bench from the door. There is a man to my right and a woman to my left. She moved her backpack to her lap from the seat I now occupy. All the benches hold 3 people, the the practical capacity is 4 persons each. All these people in the station would mean something in my life, would be ‘characters’ that help the telling of my story.
That’s not real. It’s fucking fiction. She’d say I was writing something meaningful as I sat on the wooden bench between the man and the woman. The Reality: I’m just battling exhaustion, the pen and eyes getting heavier, the grip loosens, the letters unravel into wavy lines and taper off the page…

She is a jello shot making, wine drinking, mother of 2 who also blogs!  What can be better?

Here is the beautiful baby maker!

SUMMER! Summer? What’s that? Oh you mean those few unbearablely hot weeks filled with days of sunshine and twilights celebrated with wine? I miss our dear old friend.  I feel that I am one of those people who qualifies as having SAD. SAD stands for seasonal affected disorder or something of the sort.  I’m concerned that they give everything a disorder name these days.  Seriously, who isn’t affected by months on end of cold, wet, slushy, grey blah?  Didn’t they ever read the studies on Seattle, Washington.  They have the highest rate of suicide.  Hmmm, I wonder why? Could it be that the state of Washington’s weather only produces like 4 sunny days a year (ok, it’s an exaggeration, but it’s a really low number)?  And what helps get you pumped up when suffering from the winter blues? CAFFINE!!!  No wonder Starbucks took off like a rocketship in Seattle! But enough about blah and onto basking in the glory of SUMMER!

Summer just has some sort of MAGIC to it.  Some glistening sparkle that catches your eye.  That grabs hold of you with the fierceness of a mythical monster, and the gentleness of a welcomed cool breeze.  That captivates your attention like a well wriiten book and then suddenly its gone.  It leaves you longing for just one more encounter.  (Which if you live in Chicago may happen, ocassionally in Novemeber.)  It leads you on.  It flirts with you on those unseasonably warm February days.  It’s goal is to hook, line and sinker you into longing for it.  And it has gotten its hold on me.  It’s claws dig into me like talons of an eagle.  I want it, I miss it, I need it.

What does the word summer mean to you? What memories or ideas does it invoke?

Memories…There’s certain songs that just don’t get me perky and hyper in the winter like they do during summer.  An example, Heaven by DJ Sammy.  There’s just something about a sunny day with your car windows down, jam blasting, shades on and wind whipping the shit outta your hair, that just intensifies this song for me.

Something about waking up, eating breakfast with my munchkins, and heading outside for most of the day makes me smile.  When my mom uniform for the day consists of a bathing suit, tanning oil and the flip flops are optional, I am in heaven.  Spending a day in the backyard, having a picnic lunch, lounging in the pool, recouping in the a/c while preping dinner, grilling dinner, then letting the kids run until they drop while relaxing with friends and a bottle of wine.  What’s not to look forward to?

As a mom of 2, I just love the fact that it doesn’t take us 15 mins to get out the door.  No bundling, no boots, no missing mittens.

My feet miss the fresh air.  My body misses the sun.  My skin misses it’s tan.  My mind misses the endless possibilities and wandering thoughts that summer brings…

I have talked about the featured guest blogger in previous posts such as here, here, and here.  She is someone I hold dearly in my heart.  She has a special place.  I have said it before and will say it again.  She is an AMAZING woman!  She blogs here.  Check her out!

So here I am, a guest blogger for my girl, K.  When she asked me to write a post for her blog, I was both flattered and apprehensive.  While I love to write, I don’t know how well it comes out when I am under pressure.  Wait, not that K is pressuring me.  It’s the expectation I put on myself to pen a witty and insightful post that has me a little nervous.  What if I come off sounding like a self absorbed whiner? Or worse, what if I don’t leave an impression at all?
 
These are the thoughts that go through the brain of someone who has battled with herself from the time she can remember.  Instead of just letting the words flow, thoughts turn into worries and worries turn into frustrations. Round and round it goes, feeding and recycling off of itself.  It’s a perfect example of how mental illness can trick your rational mind into a frenzy for no reason. It’s also a sign of my insecurity, which I will readily admit, is a problem.  I care far too much about what other people think.
 
So, after obsessing for a few days, I decided to simply sit down, and type whatever came into my brain.
 
Those of you who are devoted reader of K’s blog already know about her struggle with BPD.  She manages to capture some of her worst moments with a sense of humor and  wit, which I find refreshing and bold.  Those who can put a clever spin on the serious topics in life have my admiration.  I am more of a stereotypical tortured soul who agonizes over not only the serious side of life, but the lighter side too.  However, I didn’t want to bring a dark cloud into K’s blog, and I am trying to broaden my horizons both as a person, and as a writer. The following is a small collection of tips, lessons, and anecdotes from my own life that I hope will at the very least, peak your interest.
 
Candid Beauty’s Tips for Crazy Girls

- The internet is a great tool for  forming friendships and relationships.  It’s not just for  ‘ugly fat losers who can’t get a date.’  Not only did I meet my husband in a chatroom, but some of my closest friends were found online.  Fuck people who judge your chosen method of communication.  
 
- Waiting until you are drunk to address an issue is NEVER a good idea.  You look foolish when your bluff is called as you slur your words, not noticing that you can’t keep your balance.  You also stand a much greater chance of getting punched by the tough girl you are targeting, before you have a chance to pretend that you know how to retaliate.  This is especially important if you are new to the area and still making a first impression on people.  Coming into a social clique and stirring up the pecking order is hard enough, but when you  address it drunkenly in front of everyone , you forget that no one is on your side yet.
 
- Giving relationship advice to some  girlfriends can backfire.  Say you have a really good friend, who happens to be a few years younger than you and she’s having issues with her boyfriend who should be mature, given his age, but isn’t.  If you become the person she runs to when she needs to vent, eventually, you’ll end up telling her that she deserves better and he’s a dickhead and blah, blah, blah.  Gues what happens then?  After a girl’s night, she goes home and unleashes her anger at her man, yelling every not -so -nice thing you’ve ever said about him, and citing you as her source.  All of a sudden, you are in the middle of something that was never your problem to begin with.  She and he wind up temporarily making up, and you are no longer a welcome friend because it appears you’ve been trying to stir up trouble, when all you were trying to do was be a shoulder to lean on. 
 
- Don’t fish for compliments. People aren’t  there solely to boost your fragile ego. It gets old, and your blazing insecurity turns people off.  However, don’t overcompensate for that insecurity by being purposely brash and demanding to constantly be center of attention.  Then you just look childish. And crazier than you really are.  If you shut your trap, compliments will come your way. And they won’t be forced.
 
- Say what you mean.  When you tell him that you don’t mind if he goes out drinking with the guys, make sure that you really DON’T mind.  Brewing inside because you erroneously think that he is trying to ‘escape’ your insanity for an evening will not lead to a cheery reunion.  At 4 a.m. when he comes in stumbling, greeting him with rage is going to cause a fight.  And it ain’t gonna be pretty.  Your neediness and jealousy won’t go over well. In fact, it might just cause him to re-evaluate whether he really wants a basketcase in his life.  P.S. Hinting and talking around an issue is NOT saying what you mean, and it’s a good way to confuse the hell out of the person you are trying to communicate with.  Being passive aggressive and sarcastic rather than direct isn’t going to get the point across either.  Instead, you’ll come off like a bitch, and if he calls you on it, his point will just be further proved by your reaction.
 
- Testing someone’s love and devotion is a shitty thing to do.  Avoid this manipulative behavior at all costs.  Don’t make empty threats about ending the relationship when that’s the last thing you want.  Don’t test how much crazy he can take from you in one day.  And never purposely hurt yourself to get his attention.  It will scare him to his core and you may wind up in a hospital psych ward.  It’s not his fault that you are a bottomless pit of need, and don’t know how to ask for help.  
 
- Slamming a door will not end an argument. It will only prolong it.  Try it. I dare you to see how well that goes over.
 
- It’s ok to have positive affirmations written on post-its, stuck all over your bedroom.  Though it may feel silly at first,  it’s proven that things stick in your brain when you read them repeatedly out loud.  If you are feeling really brave, try saying that shit when you look in the mirror. If you can get to a point where that doesn’t feel awkward, you’ve already conquered a huge part of the problem.
 
- Learn to appreciate the male reproductive organs.  Nothing turns a man on more than a woman who enjoys playing with his rod.  It won’t bite, though it may spit a little.  Penises are pretty cool things when you know what makes them stand firm. As a bonus, you realize the power a woman can posess with sexual prowess.  All women should be aware and in touch with the power of the mere suggestion of pussy.  Just don’t abuse the power.

- Don’t define yourself by any disorder or illness, be it physical or mental.  Two things can happen.  First, you sell yourself short and focus on all the negatives.  Second, you become trapped and victimized which makes change seem impossible.  You are not the sum of your problems, unless that’s what you believe.
 
- Remember that the world does not revolve around you, no matter how much it seems like it does.  If you constantly pick the longest line at Target, it’s not a conspiracy to make you annoyed. You just pick long lines.  If you’re late and stuck in traffic, the old woman in front of you who can’t drive is not trying to piss you off.  Flipping her the bird when you finally pass her is just plain mean and unnecessary.  If the girl at Forever 21 gives you a funny look, ignore it and assume she’s having a bad day.  Or, just maybe, stop and look around.  Is she even looking at you? 
 
- Finally, if you are a person who has to be right about everything, you can try to drown out the other point of view by raising your voice louder, and then even louder, so that no one can get another word in, but you wind up looking like a boisterous asshole. Even if you are right.
 

All EXCELLENT tips and tips I am glad I read before my little weekend away with Frappe.  I might just have to print this out.  For serious.

I give you the only “Jersey Girl” that has my heart, Rachel from Confessions of a Jersey Girl.

While the ever lovely K is off frolicking in what can only be described as the frozen arctic tundra (a.k.a. Wisconsin) for a lovely weekend with her boy, you’re stuck with me.  I know, you’re thrilled.  But this really isn’t about you, it’s about me.  This is my first ever guest blog and I think I may be cracking a little under the pressure. 

I am convinced that K and I are meant to be BFFs.  If it wasn’t for our geographic hindrances, I’m fairly certain we would be out on the town wreaking havoc just about every single weekend, which may or may not be the greatest thing in the world.  To us?  It would probably be amazing, but our livers would hate the shit out of us for SURE.  We’re both bat-shit crazy, and I mean that in the best kind of way.  We both know what it’s like to down a few Ativan and chase it with vodka (or rum.  or Jager.  I like Jager.) just to make it through the night.  We both have the most adorable puppies on the face of the planet too.  I mean, we’re kindred, obviously.

Blogging has lead me to so many people that I wouldn’t have met any other way.  Sure, we’re just internet friends, for now, but a lot of the girls I have met have become my safety net.  Girls like K are the ones I turn to for advice.  A quick blog post about a relationship problem or what shoes I want to wear out for the night… and I get a ton of heartfelt meaningful responses right back. 

Which had got me thinking about my real life relationships.  I was never one to branch out and make the effort to form new friendships. I like to refer to this as “fat girl syndrome” (it’s really my crazy pants social anxiety).  I was overweight my entire childhood life and even though now I am 40 pounds lighter than I was two years ago, I still worry that girls see me as the fat, disgusting ugly friend.  Recently, I realized this and I have made a conscious effort to make a change.  Honestly, what do I have to lose?  I like to think that i’m pretty awesome.  I’m fun, I’m a good friend (almost to a fault), I love a good party and nothink beats Girls Night Out.

So I’ve been putting myself out there and making an effort with the girlfriends of my boyfriends friends.  I’m constantly sending texts or calling them to see if they want to go to a movie or out for apps and a drink.  Thing is, i’m constantly getting blown off.  They are always doing something else, and it really makes me upset.  We all went out as a huge group last week and the other two girls were like, in their own little bubble.  A bubble that I despirately want in to, but i’ve tried.  I’ve made an effort and it hasn’t worked.  I want to pitch a fit and yell “WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH ME!” or “WHY DON’T YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND TOOOOO?” but that would make me look pathetic and it’s sort of hard to look awesome when you’re freaking out like a second grader.

Point is, I just want a few good girls to hang out with and i’m considering moving to Chicago.  Does anyone else run into this problem or is it just me?  I sort of don’t really know what to make of it. I’m not really that screwed up (okay, I am… but I cover it up well.) right?  Do you have a lot of girlfriends?  Maybe these girls just suck and are simply not worthy of my friendship.  I really have no clue, so you guys? Help me out with this one.

If you havent heard already the 20sb blog swap organized by Ben over at NOR is taking the blogosphere by storm! Well, at least those whose partners went through with what they said they were going to do. Ahhh.. Im going into a rant. Without further adieu my FANTABULOUS blog swap partner, Renee from Reneeborhood.  I posted over at her fantabulous spot on the web earlier today.

Things I love about Kristen:
She has the cutest dog with an Italian name.
She battles her anxiety in the best, most creative ways… Lexapro + blogging. Hellooooo, patent that shit, Kristen!

I’m going to disclose something no one in the blogosphere knows, something only my closest friends know. I, Renee from A Beautiful Day in the Reneeborhood, suffer from anxiety as well. And though today isn’t Therapy Tuesday (seriously Kristen, best idea EVAR), I’m going to run with the ongoing theme of Wanna Be Reality Superstar and soul search a bit.

It started when I was 16. Little did I realize at the time, I was in an abusive relationship. Yeah, at 16. It wasn’t always violent, mostly just emotional. My parents had just divorced, I didn’t make the cheerleading squad, and I wasn’t quite getting the best roles in the school plays (at least I was getting cast, though). On top of that, the boyfriend, whom we shall call B, was also emotionally unstable. Looking back, I think he was struggling with undiagnosed autism.

I didn’t think anything was wrong when I cried weekly. I didn’t think anything was wrong when he told me Catholicism is wrong and tried to convert me to being a Methodist. I didn’t think anything was wrong when I was accepted into National Honors Society and he wasn’t, so he punched a hole in my dashboard. It was when he pushed me down and I tried to bite him in defense that I realized something was probably not going well. That’s when I finally broke down and told my best friend… who happens to be his cousin.

But it didn’t end. It ended months later when he broke up with me for a younger, better version of myself. She DID make the cheerleading squad. Her parents were together. And, though she wasn’t involved in the school plays, she’d probably get better parts just to piss me off. Distraught and unable to eat, one of my dear friends and I chewed up jumbo jellybeans and stuck them to the other girl’s windshield during homecoming. Somehow it made me feel better and that night I had my first meal in a few days. I woke up to jellybeans covering my driveway and it actually made me laugh. Revenge with jellybeans? Definitely the sweetest revenge there is.

Somewhere along the way, I fell into a fit of depression and anxiety. I was prescribed Celexa, then Lexapro. It kept me from sleeping all day, crying in the bathroom between classes, giving my family the silent treatment because I didn’t have the energy to talk nor could I form coherent thoughts. These mini-uppers fixed something that had been out of whack for quite some time. But they didn’t fix my relationship.

Honestly? The best anti-anxiety medication doesn’t come in pill form. It comes from purging unhealthy, negative people from your life. I stopped taking my meds when I was 18 and I haven’t even come close to how I felt back then. I’m happy, and I’ve been happy for years. And I owe that to the people in my life for keeping me afloat.