..::sparkle and fade::..

..::31.03.04::..

wow. i thought about writing this to myself a while ago. on the plane. but then i was lazy. and my thoughts were going to fast for my hand. but now i am here. i'm' home. hobie is trying to type for me with his playful paw. and it's almost one am. and i'm typing away. and drinking beer that chris left in my fridge. i am not okay. i am not okay. i am not okay. (i think i may have given myself hives earlier today?) and i am not tired. my brain and jet lag (?) have kept me up for the past two nights. tonight will make three. everything is replaying in my mind. and i'm angry. i'm really angry. i want to do things. but i won't. but i guess with money--this money i will receive in severance--i am not afforded the oppportunity to do things that i prolly really shouldn't do anyway. like to tell my boss that she is/was a. a horrible boss and b. is not a good person. is a bitch. obviously never worked a day of service in her life. and at the same time i feel lucky. i know what happened. it wasn't to be helped. the place i worked for was fucked. they weren't business savvy. and i understand that. the thing that kills me is that so many of the people i judged to be okay people ended up being not okay. ended up being shitty. and i'm thankful that i was already looking elsewhere. that i don't have kids. that i have a source of money, as shitty as it may be, to fall back on. but still. and all i can think of is my dream of glass. i think i'm in some ways oddly pyschic. and i don't care if that sounds lame. i don't care if the fact that i mildly believe in astrology sounds lame. it's just how it is.

and every day that goes by, the more and more i just want to write. but i'm not "a writer" and so that just seems odd. if i can figure out this whole me-illustrating-from-my-head-thing, well then, i'll definitely finish my comic. no matter what. but i think i'd still rather have m do it.

and it sucks that i might have to quit the one thing that's made me really happy in the past six months. in the name of money. it really really sucks. but maybe i can get them to pay me under the table. but i doubt it. that blows.

so now i work and i wait. i hope that the call comes that says "yes. we want you. we will pay you. and we're cool. and this city: you will love it."

the past week or so has really helped to open up my eyes on a lot of things. travelling by myself always seems to do that. i don't think i take refuge in the house of self nearly enough. it's where i really figure shit out. and i know who and what is important to me now. or at least i am closer to that point than i was before. and i realized that i am an optimist. maybe not about situations all the time like i used to be, but about people in general. and it's really fucking depressing when that optimism crumbles into a thin layer of dust, gathering on the floor of your apartment that you've only left for less than a week.