oh years past

I love my portlanders. Ed come home so we can take more pictures like this.

Shit man.

Every time I'm feeling tremendously great something stupid comes along and pushes me over.

and because I'm feeling so great, I feel like I shouldn't be so easily pushed.

I just have to ask sometimes why things are the way they are. Why life happens the way it happens.

Why things have to be ignored and neglected until finally one day everything falls apart.

Until you come home and find that your brother is still the same person, except now he's married and expecting a son.

That your parents still aren't in love. Except now divorce is in the horizon.

I don't know. Is this what irony is? 

Needing my family so bad. Wanting nothing more than the comfort of my mom, dad, and brother.

Coming back and things are so different. Everything is about to fall apart. It's not looking good.

Poor Melissa. Poor Max. Poor Dad.

I feel like my brother mom and I should just start a little club called the fuck ups. We are so confused. All of us. We're a little triangle of confusion. And why?

Why is it like this? Why do I feel like there is no where to go? I literally have nothing right now, and even as I type that I know it isn't true. I have to keep remembering my own words- part of the journey, part of the journey, part of the journey. It's all part of the journey.

I just wish at this point in my journey I was sitting on Andy's couch with Anna and beef getting stoney. 

And I'm glad she's happy...so glad she's happy. I just wish I were happy with her. I just wish that I didn't have to be on the other end of the line feeling so lost and mixed up.

Is that what happens when your mom tells you she might divorce your dad? Just fucking do it already! This is the second time in my life divorce has come into play, why can't you just fucking do it!

And here I am, having to keep my mouth zippered, because no one else knows. She doesn't even know if she's going to do it. Or maybe she does and she just didn't want to tell me yet. 

Fuck. Okay. I am going to continue to be strong. I am going to keep pushing forward. This is life. Shitty and wonderful and confusing and it's going to be okay. 

All of a sudden January seems forever away.

night 2 of falling in love.

love

I may be slow, but I get it sometimes.

Coming home was good for many reasons, the most important I think is getting to see my brother and remember the ways that I don't want to be like him.

That sounds so harsh, I love my brother dearly. But he lives his life based on justifications, excuses, and being spoiled.

There's something inside of him that is so afraid of the world, so afraid of his own failure, and I see that in myself as well. 

It scares me that we're both irreversibly fucked in this aspect. 

So much anxiety but so much pride.

So much energy but such a short fuse.

So much love but so much confusion.

So much vision but so much fear.

There are conversations I've had, dreams I've had, words I've read, and sights I've seen that have built up the strength in me to go back and do what I want to do.

I'm such a scared little girl, and I let almost everything get in my way. 

I have the resources at my fingertips. I have the vision.

I'm killing off some of my demons as I go. 

I'm regaining some of the confidence I lost.

I'm refining the ideas I had in my head.

I don't need to run away from my dream by abandoning the hollywood dream.

I've always felt this in my gut- I love acting. It's what I do.

Chase told me on the phone yesterday that all the orlando networks from hollywood were upset that I left. That I gave up. He told me they all looked up to me. That they got their inspiration from me. He told me I was the best actress at Artsake. He told me I was the reason he even made it out to California. It surprised me. It reminded me.

I had forgotten why I love acting, why I did it.

We talked about how I didn't want to have to deal with all the bullshit to get what I wanted.

Spoiled fucking brat.

Still, I don't want to deal with the bullshit, but everybody has to. It's part of any journey or any dream. 

There are going to be piles and piles of it along the way.

And I've just been too much of an idealist to see it that way. I guess I thought that anything worth getting would be worked out by fate to be gained without pain and without confusion and all the things I go through on a daily basis.

It's allright though. This IS part of the journey. This is where I stopped on the side of the road, pounded my head against my fists, cried because I was tired, looked for the way back, saw a hot springs and decided to jump in for a while. 

And that's okay.

There are a ton of things about me that I wish I could change, but if I actually had a magic wand, I doubt I would.

Instead, 

I'm going to take these lessons that I'm daily learning and use them.

Kind of like collecting shit in video games.

I never knew how to play. I was always the kid that ran around the flashing stars or mangoes or whatever the fuck you're supposed to collect and put in your bag and trade later for money or directions or what not.

I'm the thrower awayer. I'm the one who doesn't want to hold onto shit because I'm afraid it will way me down.

Now I'm learning the power of keeping some things, of saving some things, especially when it's information or good karma.

So I'm going back to california. Not today, not even this month. But I'm going back there and I'm going to work through the fear. I'm not going to get intimidated by shitty people who want to tell me how to look or what to say.

I'm going to look how I look and say what I say and that's going to fit in their somewhere. Somewhere that its supposed to fit.

And I'm going to fuck up and I'm going to starve sometimes and I'm going to cry at times and laugh at times and be okay with living life the way I live it. Not the way I feel its supposed to be lived. 

And I'm going to keep going. Because that's what we do.

But for now, today, in this moment, I'm in this beautiful place and I'm loving it.

I went on a walk yesterday with Chobo and sang the entire time. 

I thanked God for bringing me here during fall.

What a blessing.

Really though.

My life is so blessed.

i have to go register my life.

The last couple of days have been amazing.

Yesterday I spent the whole day at Barnes and Noble. I got through two books, sat facing three other strangers in a circle of cushy chairs, and felt completely at peace. 

Then, game night.

Game nights here are getting me through. Seriously.

The more we have, the happier I become.

Stupid card and dice games, office trivia, gamble cranium(?).

I love it. 

Like I said, anything to redirect my attention from my own sad little pathetic life (that's me milking) is highly welcomed and enjoyed. 

Not to mention that every time I look up and see the framed paper that shows the amazing farkle score (farkle- yes. it's the name of a game, not a bodily function) and caption: alex is a douche winner (weiner), I get giggly and happy like a ten year old child.

So today I guess I have to start implementing my new vow of being a more responsible person. Starting with temporary tags. What the fuck. Why do my car issues have to follow me everywhere. I swear. I would be so much better off without that piece of shit that never seems to just be. My car is like a child.

Insure me!

Register me!

Have a licence to drive me!

fuck. 

why am I the only person in history who can't seem to grasp the concept that these three things are a pretty important part of owning a car.

Anyway,

here I go. Wish me luck.

Gone far away.

And all of a sudden here I am.

I'm barely aware of how I got here, 18 hours, 1000 miles away. Different climate, different people, different me?

I kept saying I felt like I was in a bad dream, and I did. No nightmare had ever been so terrifying, and of course, this was reality.

smoke smoke stoney to keep the tears back and then

panic.

everything was fuzzy, nothing made sense, and I've never wanted to die so badly before.

The next morning, the sun was so bright and I just kept wishing for a way to make it go away. Call him and tell him to miss his flight. Have him  fly down anyway and stay for a couple of days, see California, and then leave...without me.

But here I am still, no matter how much I tried to make it go away, un-do my decision.here.i.am.

These are the good things that are already coming out of this:

-I'm realizing how irresponsible I am. (Okay, I've known this for quite some time now, but this time I'm actually taking it into account and not making excuses).

-I realize how many bridges I burn. My life is spent burning bridges. This one could be it's own blog.

-I realize how fragile my mind and body are, and how neglectful I have been of both.

-I realize that I cannot, under any circumstances, stop taking my medication.

-I realize that if I ever play with my molly again I must absolutely be prepared for the inevitable outcome. I must make sure I can handle it.

-I realize that I may come back and go to school in long beach.

Another great thing about being miserable is that almost every single thing aside from my misery is highly entertaining and causes me to giggle. 

-I also realize that I should not read books about drugs. 

this little girl loves to get in trouble.

wow

all i can say is

wow.