This week, with the end of summer coming quickly, seemingly coinciding with the end of this month, and through a series of epiphanic conversations and tidbits read here and there, somewhat abruptly closing another chapter of my life, and experiencing the flushing of all thoughts and feelings associated with the sudden departure of a preoccupation I had for several months... I've arrived at a level of (what seems to be an almost vapid) clarity.

And I am finally feeling what it means to be single-Jennie at this time and place, after all that's led up to this point.

Yes, I finally feel truly and absolutely single. Single the way I think other single people feel single...

Back again, after a long hiatus, is the desire to drive fast, the tendency to brood and to write, less emphasis on the shallow and physical and more on the deep and mental, that very old yet familiar awareness of my alone-ness, the proverbial "void" due to the absence of that special kind of love... etc.

I walk into this weekend and into the rest of the year with a sigh, looking for nothing, hoping for something, expecting anything...

It's not about not being remembered or considered. It's about the reasons for the exclusion in this particular case. I boiled them down to one of two, neither of which are fair or give me a chance to speak up for myself.

But it's all ok in the grand scheme of things. Yes, I do learn from these situations where loyalties lie, how much my company is valued, etc... And really, my ranting isn't as much due to feeling bad about not being able to participate as it is about simply wanting to have equal opportunity in this life... Over 25 years of life, and I know that's not always possible. I rant to help myself deal with that, and to speak up for myself here... not to call anyone's attention to my frustrations or to ask for reparations. But thanks for the words-o-widsom anyway.

Because it's so much easier to cure/heal/repair the body than it is the mind...

There's an interesting idea called "Psychoplasmic Therapy," which came out of a movie made in 1979, titled The Brood. I haven't seen the myself (yet). Anyone up for seeing it with me? I heard about it on the radio last night. "Psychoplasmics" is method for treating patients through channeling the hurt and rage they experience into bodily manifestations, such as lesions, boils, tumors, etc... which are much more easily treatable than mental conditions.

Hm, if only that's what's actually happening right now with my angst and the breakout on my face... The good news is, I AM finally clearing up! :)

Buy it. Buy it because it's pretty... and it would look pretty pretty on your pretty little finger. Buy it because you can. Buy it because I would want it if I could buy it, and I would buy it if i could.

I have a ring I've been meaning to try to sell one of these days. It's simple, white gold, small diamond (dunno how many karats, but I will find out), no sentimental value... I bought it about two years ago, in an attempt to spoil myself in a way I hadn't done before. It's the first and only piece of real jewelry I've ever bought for myself. I didn't need the money I spent on it then, but I do need it now...

I'll tell you all when/if I post a listing and picture of it up on craigslist or ebay, so you can check it out... and maybe pick it up, though I don't really imagine any of you would care for a secondhand ring.

If there is anything else that I own that you want, just name your price. Everything I own I would sell for the right price.

"Jennifer... You look terribly tired. What happened to you??"

...my dad asked me yesterday, in that concerned-yet-disappointed-and-accusatory-and-reprimanding tone of voice... the one he has when he's already jumped to the conclusion that I've gotten myself into some sort of trouble, even before he lets me tell my story. He's always assumed that when I sin, I suffer physically as an inevitable consequence; and though I may try to hide either the sin or the consequences, it's obvious to the public that I've erred... much like it was for Dimsdale in Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter.

'Course, 99% of the time, he's wrong about me...

All I did was spend my entire Saturday helping friends move from a 3bdrm house to a 2bdrm condo, running on about 4 1/2 hrs of sleep the night before. We spent a good nine hours packing, heaving, hauling, pushing, loading, unloading, sorting, and organizing. Hell yeah, I was tired...

...even without making it to Cyberfest on Saturday night. I had been anxiously looking forward to the event during the past several weeks. I thought about the it non-stop all of last week. I hardly worked because I was thinking about it so much. Saturday night, I did something uncharacteristic of me, something I am not in the habit of doing, especially since Spring of this year. I said no to doing something I wanted to do so badly... something that would've had a negative impact on my health, though it would've also provided me with a kind of euphoric experience I've almost gotten addicted to.

I realized I could miss this event, and it wouldn't be the end of the world for me or my friends. I could fuck this one up, and it could be the end of several things... I feel very bad that I wasn't able to be there for my friends this time. But maybe not going this time, and being able to say no to things that have the potential to break me down, will allow me to be there for my friends in the future in other capacities...

Yeah, I know I'm over-reacting.

I'm quite pissed off right now. This is the third or so time that someone I know has sent an email out to a group of people whom, up until now, I've considered to be my friends, to go do something tonite. And whaddya know... I'm the only person, as far as I can tell, who's been a semi-regularly participating member of this perhaps-really-non-existent "group" of friends, who wasn't sent the damned email.

It's about something I don't wanna do tonite anyway. What I'm trippin on is the principle of being excluded again. Once may have been a mistake or an oversight. But three fuckin times?? What the hell is wrong here? Why am I being singled out for exclusion?

You know, the worst I've ever done to you is ignore you. 'Course now I'll continue to do that, but I'd never exclude you. You have no reason to be excluding me. Unless you're taking sides or something like that... Sides of what, though? I see a group as a circle. No angles, no sides. So maybe, as I hinted at earlier, there really is no group, and I'm just hyperventilating over nothing...

Well, that's usually the case. Much ado about nothing... But I really am bothered about being left out. Y? 'Cuz I've had this sick overarching exclusion complex for most of my life.

Learn about it now. 'Cuz you really don't wanna do me wrong too many times...

Well, you sure can sing like none of us can. I'd trade any ability I have to draw or paint (which isn't as much as some of the other girls you may be referring to, but it's there) anyday for the ability to sing well. I'd much rather be able to relay emotions thru music and song than thru visuals.

Interesting factoid: Some drugs give you fake feelings. Albeit they are very wonderful fake feelings that linger for a time. Sometimes, the pleasant fake feelings give rise to, or evolve into, rather unpleasant real feelings. Watch out for that.

It's one thing to forget the facts of events of the past. It's a whole 'nother thing to forget the feelings... Up until now, I've taken pride in my success at mentally recording precisely how I've felt during most events in my life, though the details of the events are often blurred or gone from my mind.

Last night it happened... and it was frustrating and disappointing, trying to access feelings I had during specific times in my somewhat recent past, and not being able to do so quite as well as usual. I tried to get to them from different angles... I asked questions to try to jiggle them free from the tangles. I felt as if I was fighting a mental/emotional block, a protective wall standing between me and those feelings. Why weren't they burned into my mind as well as the others? Would they do me more harm than good to retrieve? Or were they simply never there, never real?

This morning, I realized it really isn't so important to be able to recall how I used to feel. What matters much more, of course, is my awareness of the here and now... and the definitely real.

A lotta my current friends still keep in touch with or hang out with friends they met in college, even though they or their friends have moved far away. I've kept in sporadic contact with only about 3 or 4 of my friends from college; I met them in different years, and none of them know each other. A couple of my childhood friends went to Cal with me, and they are similarly fading out of my life...

I received a voicemail msg this weekend about one of them. Short message with few details... There is a shower tonite at 6pm for Amy. I'm assuming it's a baby shower, since Amy got herself hitched last summer, right here in Oakland (I barely made it to the wedding). This time, I didn't get a snailmail invitation, just the late-notice voicemail...

Amy and I were the best of friends in seventh grade, through the one year I was at Chinese Christian School. When we weren't talking face to face, we were writing letters and notes to each other to give to each other when we saw each other next, which was just an hour later in our next class or the very next day. Funny how when you're that young you can spend so much time with one person without tiring or running out of things to say... I can't remember all of what we used to talk non-stop about, but I'm sure most of it was weighty-yet-juvenile, if not supersilly girltalk/tomboy-babble that I'd be embarrassed to recall now.

By Cal, though, Amy and I had already grown pretty distant. She'd already chosen her life's direction, down the straight and narrow, through church and the bible, leading directly into Heaven. She was as pious as I wasn't. And now she's having a baby. This little bouncing bundle of joy will grow up in a nice Christian home, just as I did...

I'm proabably not gonna make it to the shower tonite. I still have some settling down to do at home, which to me is a good enough excuse, among the other better ones, not to go...

Popped in an old CD yesterday while in the car, and heard this song, which I haven't sung in awhile... Two years and the lines are still applicable to me, this one especially:

"Strange friends all surround me." :P

I just went endured another weekend w/o internet access. I'm sure most of you don't miss what I don't post here anyhow... If you're really curious about me or what's goin on in my little life, IM me or call me. Don't come here or elsewhere for current/daily info.

Come directly to me.

Amen, cous... I couldn't have said it any better. I think it, you speak it.

I know of that feeling, and I loveit/thriveonit too. Comes with insane and dangerous speed combined with extreme physical exertion... I haven't felt it to a superhigh degree in a long time. The last time was probably more than one winter ago, while racing downhill at breakneck speed on my snowboard. I haven't had a good snowboard trip since college. If I had a road bike right now, I'd go riding with you to see what it's all about. Or maybe we can go get ourselves on runners' high one of these days. Gimme a call...

The best thing about this weekend: the HEAT. The worst thing: still NO INTERNET at home.

Each of us has his/her own personal reasons for having a public-blog. Mine are: 1) to transparently document my prevailing thoughts and feelings for current and future self- amusement and analysis, 2) to give the world a chance to see bits of the real me, to know the truth, unabridged & unadulterated... so I don't die an unknown or completely misurepresented. I blog with few, if any, expectations. I don't seek sympathy or love, though understanding is appreciated. I don't blog to garner attention, to show off how deep, smart, funny, athletic, cute, or loved I am... I don't blog to provide you with a cleverly staged impression of me, or to meme and be meme-d, or to solicit answers to rhetorical and/or unanswerable questions/statements...

In my opinion, 90% of what is ever said and written is utter BULLSHIT. But I listen and read anyway...

It all goes through a sieve... and in the end, I gravitate toward people who provide me with a new/fresh/unique perspective on life through what/how they speak, think, or live. People come and go; some relationships/friendships have expiration dates... Sometimes I feel no synergy among people. Then I turn the music on, and I find it...

A whole week's gone by... too quickly 'cuz I dwelled on the past weekend thru midweek. Trying to take a status check now... I haven't taken a good look at myself in the mirror in a long time, haven't weighed myself... haven't been doing anything real regularly lately. Location and frequency of meals and sleep each day are TBD... and the little things aren't getting done. Laundry, fingernails, toenails, acne mask... I need this weekend to clean myself up.

I'm feeling pretty at-peace right now, though... after a long month. Whatever it cost me, I'd gladly pay again.

I've been kinda hostile and irritable lately, I know. Apologies... I feel overwhelmed a little. So much coming at me from all different directions. I feel like I've had too much caffeine when I haven't any at all. I sit here and feel like I just wanna fight and fuck, fuck and fight. I hope after a nice mellow weekend I'll be back down to a more normal level of aggression.

You beat me to it. I was gonna post something about having pictures from every day of last weekend. Fri nite, Sat nite, Sun. I had more pictures taken of me in those 3 days than in the past year!

ARGH. Hate not having a computer/internet at home...

What's the freakn deal with pps who are "not-single-but-looking?" Now, if anything's poor form, THAT is. VERY POOR. Reeks of cowardice and other nasty things. I've never been it and would never stoop that low. It's not my modus operandus, and I'll never again date someone whose it is.

Nice Quote of the Day.

I just looked at some pictures that were taken of us at Metropolis. They're damn hilarious. I find it very funny seeing the reality of that scene from an all too sober perspective. We look like silly old grownup people with children's faces, acting like ultra hyper kids on a sugar high... toyed-up, wide-eyed, drugged-out, and way too happy for our own minds and bodies. The pictures are snapshots of moments from what seems like a fanciful dream we all experienced simultaneously. Everything around us, ourselves included, looks so fake and frivolous. Seeing what we look like in the strange state we were in is almost a deterrent to dropping again. Heh. Well, maybe next time we'll just leave the camera at home.

You know what really irks me? Girls who act or talk like they are bi, when they really aren't at all. They're purely frontin. They couldn't walk the talk if you put them to the test. They put on the act for guys just to get attention and/or seem sexier than they really are. All you girls doing this (and you know who you are), drop the act, will ya? You're such damn freakn TEASES! ...and you're driving me nuts! If you're for real, prove it...

I love the way my cousin thinks and expresses himself. Doug, write us a book.

Top 5 things that bother me at this moment about THE MOVE/Breakup:

1) Needing to replace all the little things I used to be able to share. It feels funny having a whole tube of toothpaste all to myself now... feels like such an inefficiency. It kills me to have to spend on replacement items that come in big bottles/packages, and to buy at least 500 of whatever (like Q-tips) at once in order to get a good price break. It's difficult deciding how to spread out my extra pennies to cover the things I needed even before I moved and the things I need now because I moved.

2) Having no internet/laptop at home. Even when I was able to use the ex's, I felt bad always using it. A laptop is the first big thing I want to save up for. One day without internet feels like an eternity.

3) Having a lot less physical space to contain/hide my stuff. I'm surrounded and being suffocated by my own stuff! There aren't enough closets or cabinets to hide it all way now. (I live in a 3bdroom condo w/ four other ppl.) I feel like getting rid of half of what little I already have.

4) Finding food. There was always something in the fridge at the old place. All I have right now is a bag of bagels and a 6pk of water bottles. I'd better figure out soon how I'm going to do meals from now on, before I start feeling and seeing the effects of eating badly.

5) The ex trashtalking about me behind my back to my friends, acquaintances, people I just met or haven't met yet. Come to think of it, he did this even while we were still together. I never did anything with the intent to hurt him. It's kinda pitiful how he tries to hurt me this way.

What a week. What a weekend.

There should be a parallel Earth in which babes with broad shoulders and flat chests are admired, adored, and considered attractive by the majority of people of both genders. I'm sick of going shopping for something nice to wear for a fun nite out, only to discover that none of the cutest/sexiest tops fit me properly 'cuz they were fashioned after an "ideal" frame, which plain and simply I don't have. This top fits at the waist but the shoulders are too narrow so the sleeves hike up uncomfortably. This top fits at the shoulders but is too loose at the chest and waist, making me look thick. This top is perfectly form-fitting, but shows off a somewhat masculine frame... and are there ANY kinds of tanktops that don't make me appear completely void of boobs? It's so frustrating...

I played basketball last nite. Now my butt hurts... not from working out my glutes, but from falling on my ass a couple times toward the beginning of the evening. I was slipping around on the court in my brokedown running shoes, and got knocked over easily 'cuz I kept gettin in the way. I guess I got a taste of how my rollerhockey buds feel when I knock 'em over all the time. Heh. I can take it. Try and break me. The only thing I mind is, it's kinda embarrassing when I'm the only girl on the court, and pps think I fall all over the place just 'cuz I'm a girl. It ain't that, it's the SHOES, damnit! I need new shoes!

And then I went home and moved 90%+ of my stuff out of the old place and into the new one. It was weirder doing that than I thought it would be. I mean, I'm excited about the move, and I feel really good about my newfound freedom. Removing stuff from the old place just felt sorta like undo-ing a year of life, or like taking away evidence from a crime scene... I was reminded of the condition of my life when I moved the stuff into the place last year. It's interesting how... hm, what am I thinking... I can't find words 'cuz it's damn cold in here. Why do these fools always turn up the AC so high??

Q.
A. Girl found out through Dream Guy that Sister killed Mother. Girl killed Sister to avenge Mother's death. Sister killed Mother because she found out something terrible/horrible about Mother that she could not forgive her for. Dream Guy knew that Sister killed Mother because he and/or his friends and/or relatives were somehow involed in Mother's past. He either went to the funeral so that he could tell Girl about what he knew (because he wanted to set the record straight, or he wanted to warn Girl of eminent danger) or for some other reason relating to his connection to Mother. The fact that Dream Guy was Girl's dream buy is purely coincidental.

Uh... do I test clean?

And I can take naked pix of you and you, if either would like that. Don't worry, I've had experience. I will be sure they turn out tasteful and flattering... and I promise not to make a private profit off 'em w/o your consent, though I SO could use the money. :P