Whats It Like to be On My Mind?

What is it to be on my mind? There's a constancy to it. How it breathes and moves. The cracks and crevasses where dark thoughts hide. I hide there too. What is it to be on my mind? When sadness sets in and usual demeanors fade away. There's a fog to every thing I do. There is a weight to everything I am. It's grey in here, it's grey out there. There's a rain pitter pattering on me. Damp. damp. Wet. wet. Happiness gets lost in clay that sticks to the bottom of your shoe. And I have a heart that shatters by the intake of your breath. Right now, things are thin. The air and clouds and sun is thin with empty thoughts. What's it like to be on my mind?

My Biggest Fear

In my old age I've realized that my biggest fear has nothing to do with barnacles or spiders or heights or death. My biggest fear is being forgotten.

It's a lot to admit. And priding myself on being a rather strong person, its kind of a lame fear. If someone doesn't care enough to remember me then to hell with them.

But the thought of someone I care about forgetting me, leaves me in a state of near panic. My heart pounds and my breaths grow short. And the more I have cared for that person, the worse it gets.

I'm not ignorant enough to believe that I am so memorable. That there is something about me that makes me much more important and special than others. But I can hope.

And if you're happy, I'm more than happy.

But first I have to think about how, in my eyes, I am forgotten rather quickly. Like there is no smoke from our fire, because you put it out with water.

I still hurt & you've moved on.

I had thought that I had known heartbreak. I was wrong. Or perhaps, it's been so long that I've forgotten what it really feels like. And while you were over there, feeling the same way I did, everything was ok.

But now everything is broken open and brand new. Again I feel the seering pain of a broken heart. Again every breath hurts and every heart beat seems pointless.

Was what we had so fleeting that you could move on so quickly?

And it's irrational, because months have passed. It's not been quickly at all. But if it had been 3 years it would have been to short for you to forget about me.

They say that you never get over someone until you meet your new someone. I'm not sure that's true, I hope it is not. Because I'm miles away from finding that someone knew.

But for now I will fear that you will forget me. That you will be with someone who makes you happier than I ever could. That you will fall in love with someone who will make you want stay with them forever, figure it out so you can be together always. These are things that I both wish for and hate.

What is it about an ex finding someone new that makes you forget all of the reasons they became an ex in the first place?

Its hard to be alone with your thoughts.

Super Random

Last night I took a break from my period piece films (don't worry, Sense & Sensibility is in the DVD player right) to watch Super 8. I had heard that it was good but it was sooooo good.

It was like Lean on Me with a science fiction twist. As always Kyle Chandler was delectible & a pretty damn good actor too. I can't get into it to much because I refuse to give anything away, just see this movie.

But watching all these movies lately has made me realize how much I miss watching movies! I know it sounds ridiculous, but it really is a hobby of mine. And I'm kind of tired of being "embarassed" by it. I love it just as I love to see good theatre. I love it in the same way that I volunteered to work on my day off, because I love watching actors work and work well. There are some actors (and Chandler is one of them - if you haven't watched Friday Night Lights your missing out) that completely melt into their characters and you feel everything that they are feeling, as if they are in the room with them, as if you are a part of them.

And that's the whole point isn't it?

I miss acting. I didn't realize it until I was given an "extra" part in A Christmas Carol & then because of logistics it was then offered to another ASM. It all made perfect sense, you can't climb to a cat walk in a period piece gown. But I was sad.

I like to write because I like to escape into a world that I otherwise wouldn't be able to go to. In my books, the heroine always get's her man, she can travel anywhere in the world, she can travel anywhere in time. I can be anything. Go anywhere.

Acting empowers me to do the same. And I would like to see if I still have the chops. But I'm brokesky & I don't pretend to think that I can jump right back into it. I need some classes but I need some free classes. Any suggestions out there?

If anyones reading this. HELLOOOO! Is Rhonda there?????

Inside joke, if you get it you're the coolest.

Guilty

I am guilty of overly romanticizing love. Which is ironic because I'm completely incapable of being romantic. I have a small problem with the giggles. Whenever things get romantic, giggle fits ensue.

But over the last couple of days I've been diving into my favorite movies, one of them being BBC's new(er) version of Elizabeth Gaskell's North & South. I'm a Jane Austen girl & have only 2 novels yet to finish. I'm half way through Mansfield Park & after that it's onto Northanger Abbey, but once they are done I will dive into Gaskell's work, which is written in the same romantic manner as Austen, but takes place a few decades later.

North & South is a tale about the class difference and how it effects the pride and prejudices of those involved. Yeah, I would hate to presume but she may have read Austen.

Anyway the whole point of this is that you should watch it and for me to write about how amazing it is. The way that Mr. Thornton looks at Margaret Hale. I know it's just actors doing their jobs, but it's brilliant. Everyone should be looked at like that, at least once in their life. Or the moments when they're hands touch, long before romantic feelings have been professed, and both unknowingly linger that extra second, because it is all they will have of one another for a very long time.

I don't know. I guess I've romanticized love in such a way and my past relationships, one horrible, one amazing have ended because of it. Because I have a cookie cutter idea of how Jane Austen would have plotted my love story. And I love to escape into it, I love to watch Darcy seek out Lizzy's attention only to awkwardly (rudely) profess his love to a ridiculous girl who doesn't yet know what it is she is feeling.

I love Anne Elliott, who made the mistake of listening to poor advice in her youth and now suffers in watching Captain Wentworth court other women. I connect with her, constantly striving to do what is best and right for her family and those around her, while neglecting her own happiness. But, she get's her happy ending, when Wentworth realizes his pride is worth nothing in comparison with his love for Anne. His letter is one of the most beautifully written professions of love:

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.


I am not ignorant of the fact that these words were written by a woman, a woman who was much like me, getting older & perpetually single. Yearning to hear, just once (more), that you are the reason someone thinks and plans. Hopeful to know that you sink your voice but they can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others.

I'm having a guilty pleasures type of day. Sue me.

I'm guilty of overly romanticizing love. Which is why I will probably die alone, clutching my Jane Austen novels to my chest. Maybe my dogs will gnaw off my face.

The Big Break Up

So I did it. I ended a 10 year long relationship last Friday when I broke up with my bank. I don't have reasons good enough for anybody, it's a bunch of little ones and none of them are my problem. They're all issues that family or friends have had that lead up to me wanting to peace out. And the fact that in my utter pathetic-ness my account is still linked to my parents and since they're abandoning ship I have to as well or face big charges for having NO money in my bank account. So I'm out.

But I did something stupid before I went last Friday. I put my paycheck into my account on Thursday so even though we broke up on Friday I had to wait until today to "get my stuff back." ie: get the remainder of my money.

Which I'm actually really happy happened. Because when I went in on Friday I had a male banker and guess what, he was kind of a douche. He was patronizing and kind of rude and short with me. Which, hey buddy, makes me never want to do business with you ever again. The woman that I had today was absolutely lovely, even though I was closing my account. We ended our conversation with her saying "If you ever decided to come back I'd love to be your banker and perhaps give you a better experience with us."

Now THATS how you do business. You never know, one day maybe I'll be leaving my new bank and maybe I'll come back. Probably not, but you made me seconde guess that fact for a split second.

So it took me about 4 weeks into the run of the show (A Christmas Carol) that big banks are Want & Ignorance. They are the ultamite Ebenezer Scrooge. They need some spiritual visits, stat.

And I'm not going to pretend that I'm so high & mightly, I've moved on to another bank. Not one quite as big as Chase, but still a big bank. I guess we can only hope & guess that it will get better soon. Maybe if a creepy ghost scares the crap out of them it will help.