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Yesterday was my 35th day without a cigarette. �I awoke from a long, solid night of sleep feeling both refreshed and exhausted.� The hypnosis tapes I listen to when I am sleeping often leave me feeling this way.� Sometimes I�think it might actually be harmful to allow a computer to hypnotize me almost every night.� On the chance that it may actually be beneficial, I keep doing it.

I had only twenty minutes before I had to go to work. �I�drank in a glass of chocolate milk, ate some cereal, put some water in my hair, and changed my clothes. �I�arrived at work five minutes late. �

Things were going well when I arrived at the Butcher Shop. �My mom had just left. �Jeremy, Erica, and Jess had a handle on customers and they were keeping up with orders.� Curtis was in the back room cutting meet.� I greeted everyone and put on my apron.

From there on out,�I was tense.� I�couldnapos;t explain it.� Things continued to go well. �It was a fairly typical day.� Nothing went wrong.� No customers got pissed off or acted out passive aggressively against me.� There was this terrible feeling I couldnapos;t shake though and it made my day drag by slowly.� I was very relieved when�I got off work.

I knew it would happen early in the day, so I�was not surprised to hear myself say, "Yes," when Kory offered me a cigarette at the bar. �I was on my first drink, so it was not a decision of inebriation. �This was what my heart told me to do.� This is why I was trembling as I sat there and it was why�I was staring at Koryapos;s pack of cigarettes like I�wanted to fuck it.

I put the cigarette between my lips.�

I lit it.

I took in a deep, heavy drag.

Just like that. �It went so fast. �Life seemed different. �It was as the gears that work my brain were suddenly lubricated.� My arms moved more easily.� I felt elevated.

The taste was crisp and strong.� It tasted foreign in the same way that my first cigarette ever did.� Yet, it also tasted hauntingly familiar.� It tasted like high school, discovery, and freedom.� I was not disappointed.� I barely cared.� And then I�finished the cigarette.

Did they always burn that fast? I wondered silently.

By the time we left the bar,�I bummed another cigarette from Kory and then retreated briefly to my car for two full packs of cigarettes from my carton and the partial pack I had remaining from when I quit. �I gave Kory the two packs in exchange for the two cigarettes he had given me.� I�then smoked two more cigarettes while we sat there and drank beer for the next hour.

I decided not to smoke on my drive home. �I wanted to avoid getting cigarettes psychologically tied with my vehicle again.� I spent 35 days proving to myself that I�could drive and listen to music just as happily without a cigarette. �In fact, it was even better without a cigarette. �I wanted to keep that.� And I�did.

I�got home and told my mom that I�had smoked 4 cigarettes.� Part of the fun of smoking in high school was having a rebellious little secret. �I figured Iapos;d cut that possibility right out of the equation. �I ate dinner and told her that I�was going to a Halloween costume party at Cory Clarkapos;s house and that I�planned to continue smoking while I�was there.� Might as well make it worth it if I�have to start over anyway.

I arrived at Coryapos;s wearing a green Wawasee sweatshirt and a headset with a microphone. �I was a Wawasee Football�Coach.� It was the most inventive costume I�have worn in years.� I was happy about it. �I was also happy about the six pack of beer I had with me and the lit cigarette that was hanging from my lips.

I�entered Coryapos;s garage, which was extensively decorated from Halloween. �There were meatballs, hot dogs, chips, salsa, and a variety of other snacks.� Cory had a keg and a personal bar that was stocked with a variety of booze. �There was a fire burning outside and a crowd of people everywhere.� It was a pleasant party, and a surprisingly extravagant event. �I was happy to be there.

I�was greeted by Shauna Magid, who was wearing a penguin suit.� We complimented each othersapos; costumes and chatted for a while before I made the rounds to see everybody.� I�said hi to Cory and Whitney and thanked them for inviting me. �I also expressed my admiration for their set-up.� It was the real deal.� Goblins, fake chains, spider webs, and a giant kettle of punch.� Really a sight.

I saw Tim Hiatt and William Maule. �We talked about movie ideas, tripping, and the last times we saw each other.� All kind of people I vaguely recognized passed by and we had brief catching up sessions.� Denise Woodward, looking like a completely different person, pranced around in a frizzy ballerina dress.� Andy Shoemaker walked by, challenging my mind first to figure out who he was, and then to consider the supreme strangeness that we would one day end up at the same party when we were once bitter enemies, so long ago.

I sat down by Michelle Beck and Shauna to smoke a cigarette, but before I�could even light the thing I�spotted a familiar face off in the distance.� Couldnapos;t be.� I�thought.� Then I thought harder and realized that it was not at all unbelievable that he would be visiting Whitney and Cory.� No shit, I thought.� Ferd.

Ferd was friends with Bekah and Whitney back in the Ball State Days. �I would see him nearly every time I�visited Muncie, and we developed a fairly realistic friendship. �I say realistic, because it is often easier to develop only surface friendships with people who you donapos;t see that often. �We had a fairly good time tooling around to parties there. �I almost forgot what a� good time we all had together back then.

When�I moved to Muncie for school in 2004, I think it was shocking how much I had changed.� Things stayed the same for a while.��Bekah, Whitney, Ferd, and I had a good time together.��I stayed at their house very often - much more than I�ever stayed in my own dorm.��I spent most of that time drunk or on drugs, though.��I was unclean, and I�was a mess.� It could be said that Ferd saw me unraveling at that time.��I donapos;t think he thought much of it.� I�think he saw some of the same things in Bekah.� Whatever it was, the two of us began to feel like he was challenging out ways.� I�donapos;t think it would be an exaggeration to say that we lashed out against him for this. �We became unkind to Ferd and treated him like children might treat a teacher they donapos;t like. �It was unfortunate, because we had all been pretty good friends.� That ended.

I�moved away from Muncie as a failure and returned only a few times, mostly uninvited, to puke on things and let my drunk friends wreak havoc on that house. �Bekah was having her own territorial disputes with her roommates, and by the end of 2004 we had both fallen out of favor there.� I�canapos;t speak for Bekahapos;s situation, but all my negative encounters there were my own doing. �I saw Ferd one last time in 2005, when�I showed up in Muncie high on crack with friends who I�knew were unwelcome there.� We had been out all night, driving around like maniacs, and we finally landed in Muncie because I�knew Whitney and Ferd were having a party the following night.

We crashed out in their house for a few hours and then were kicked out of the house before the party started, on suspicion of being rotten people.� That was the last I saw or talked to Ferd.

Knowing this, I�approached him at Coryapos;s party, and extended a hand of friendship. �I�was surprised and happy to see him, and he seemed generally happy to see me as well. We mentioned nothing of the past.�� We spoke the catching up small talk of two people who will never be close again - a handshake to temporarily bridge the space between us that contains years of negative energy.� I�think we both stand out to each other as a reminder of a time weapos;d rather not think about too much.� His college plans didnapos;t work out as he had envisioned either, and he cut the Muncie thing off later in 2005.� Though the only reasons we still recognized each other are rooted in an empty landscape of misguided hopes and haunted memories, it was a pleasant reunion.� I�think we were both surprised to see each other vaguely content with our lives.

After talking to Ferd, I wandered around the party and recognized a few more faces which I�could associate with him.� His buddy, Scottie B., dressed as The Hamburglar, was standing over by Brett Ehmen.� The two of them were engaged in a game of flippy-cup with some other party goers.� I�later saw two girls named Lindsey and Morgan, who�I recognized from Muncie. �They were dressed as Pink Ladies. I wasnapos;t sure which was which, but one was helping guide the other one to a car, as she stumbled around, barely able to register her footing.� I remember similar scenes from Muncie.� Bekah, Whit, Ferd, and�I used to go to their house to sit and play card games.� They had Absolut Vodka magazine advertisements lining their ceiling, and a big recycling bing for beer cans. �They probably wouldapos;ve been my age then.� It was haunting to see them again; Spectres of the past masquerading around in the present, as if there was nothing weird about it at all.

Teddy got his camera out and started flashing it all around, taking professional quality pictures of drunks in celebration.� The flashbulb combined with the strobe light in the corner were getting my brain irritated something fierce. �The loud music had my head ringing. �I realized that I had only had two beers and I didnapos;t feel like drinking anymore. �A headache developed and I wandered around with it for a while before deciding it was time to leave.� It was getting too weird and heavy anyway, wandering around all these faces from the past, totally unsure of where to stand amongst them.

I smoked a cigarette as I drove home.� Fuck it.� I�thought.� Iapos;m not going to psychologically relink smoking with my car.� As I finished smoking,�I�took the open pack beside me and began dropping the remaining cigarettes out the window one-by-one until they were gone.� I have quit smoking I repeated as each one was caught by the night air.� It felt ceremonial.

I woke up today feeling fine.� The want was not present.� I�do not feel hollow and negative like I�had thought.� I�do not feel like I�need to smoke a cigarette.� I have gone all day without one. �

As I drove home from dinner at my grandpaapos;s this evening,�a had a realization.� Now is the time.

A week or two after my dad died, I�began smoking one cigarette from his last pack each night.� It was sort of a twisted, ritualistic way of honoring him. �Iapos;m all about� personal ceremonies and attaching meaning to moments and objects.� Each cigarette was like a forgotten moment, a bonding experience that never occurred.� A few minutes of time that dad didnapos;t get to have.� When I got sick in September, and ultimately quit smoking, there were two cigarettes left.� I knew all along that I�didnapos;t want to get rid of them.� They were his and they would be the last two times I could celebrate him this way.

Go back to cigarettes last night made me realize that I�really donapos;t want to smoke anymore.� The first few felt wonderful, tasted wonderful, and were a delight.� The rest felt smoked out of necessity.� They were joyless, useless, and even a little annoying.� Why smoke now.� I thought a few times.

Thatapos;s the right mindset to get in to quit for good.� If the attraction is gone, so then is the desire.� Nothing has made more sense.� This addiction is over.�

I�have decided to close my evening tonight by going outside with my last carton of cigarettes and burning it as I smoke my dadapos;s final two cigarettes.� One for him.� One for me. �And that is all there will ever be.


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body shawl

I had fun last night at Elena Justinapos;s shindig I know some of you are feeling great this morning :p Sorry I had to leave early, I was getting tired I came home and crashed on the couch. Tori couldnapos;t get me up again and I just woke up. My lips are pink stained from cheap lipstick and my lovely eyes are still blue. I am going to try to get through my nutrition class today then hopefully have time to take aaron to the folsom renn faire (Thanks for posting it lavenderlush umm or skinnylizard hehe. Itapos;s the pic that throws me. I always associate it with M later.) He has a renn faire at his school every year so i would like to get him a costume as well out there. I wonapos;t be wearing mine, everything fits still except the original bodice. I made a new one a few years ago, but I doubt that fits me right now either with the growing belly.

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dahlman rose

�So the other day at work on some downtime, I�was thinking about how sometimes I�take for granted having not only a job, but a pretty descent one at that. We all have work related complaints whether it be the hours put in, the pay, or any other numerous complaint. But, sometimes we overlook the fact of just how lucky we are to be able to have jobs, especially with the way the economy is going now. I�have many friends that have recently lost there jobs, or having problems finding work. And with the work there finding there finding it hard to swallow the lower pay, the job atmosphere, the job hours, and so on. Thinking on these things made me realize that even with all the headaches my job causes me, that sometimes I�overlook the positives of having a job gives you. Money in your pocket, a sense of accomplishment, and helping keep up your lifestyle. And losing that can put you into a very troublesome state. Everyone at some point loses or gets fired from a job, and that feeling and stress it gives you is not a good feeling. And God knows looking for a new job is the worse feeling in the world. So in thinking these things, it really gave me a new train of thought on my job situation and a new found energy. I�told myself that I�needed to deal with job related stress a little better and be more thankful for the things my job brings me. Because at any moment it can be taken away from me. I�hope I�continue with this way of thinking, because I�definatly think it will help me in the long run, and I�think it will open up my mind more for positive thinking. I�think if everyone opened up there mind a little more and thought more on the positive things of having work, theyapos;d be a lot better of. Cause who knows that job you donapos;t like so much can be taken away from you at anytime.�
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batterfly

Turns out... Sheapos;s just being the same old Phanie she always was...


she promised sheapos;d try to call me more, and call me when she said she would....


well, fuck it.

she WAS okay, she just "didnapos;t call"

ugh.. She had no excuse for it... She really didnapos;t SAY anything about it.... Sometimes i think sheapos;s hiding something from me.


today she sounded a little suspicious when she called the house phone (since i wasnapos;t answering mine)


she didnapos;t say much... She wouldnapos;t say why she couldnapos;t go somewhere else to talk to me, since everyone was in the same room with her, she didnapos;t argue with me when i told her she didnapos;t care about me, or well, in her voice it sounded like she could give to fucks that i was upset.

she didnapos;t care that for 8 hours last night that i was frantically trying to get a hold of her because i thought she was dead or something. She knew i was trying to get a hold of her when Nina and Jenn physically told her, "Hey... Stacieapos;s trying to get a hold of you, said you werenapos;t answering your phone..."

that didnapos;t seem to trigger something in her head to call me...




i donapos;t get her anymore. I donapos;t trust what she tells me anymore, which is sad, because i was starting to trust her again when she would give me the fucking run around about why she never called.


either sheapos;s fucking around behind my back, or sheapos;s getting wated on these nights that she doesnapos;t call.... I really donapos;t know... But.. Theres no fucking excuse for not trying to get in contact with me for 8 straight hours. If your phone doesnapos;t work, use someone elses. If youapos;re too fucking busy, just text me, hey baby, call you in a few. But 8 hours of not calling? and that was because she just texted me after ignoring my texts for 3 hours prior to that of me asking, "Are you getting my texts? I hate wondering....." and her saying, "Yeah i got em, call you in 20 minutes."

i donapos;t know anymore.





right now i donapos;t want to have anything to do with her. She promised she wouldnapos;t do this to me. She doesnt know what its like to not hear from someone she loves for almost a whole day and worry about why they havenapos;t called. She doesnapos;t realize that because sheapos;s gone that i think sheapos;s dead somewhere... Like in some car crash or something... And thereapos;s no way of calling a friend to check on her... If sheapos;s hurt sheapos;s hurt, thereapos;s no way of telling.


it fucking hurts. It makes me think she really doesnapos;t fucking care about me. Like iapos;m this big nothing to her just because sheapos;s got all this other shit happening for her.

i hate that she makes me feel this way, then switches it on me and tells me sheapos;s going to change and then a few days later she hits me with it all over again.



i just.. I canapos;t deal with it today... Its so fucking stupid and i donapos;t want to have to worry about it anymore. Even though i preoccupied myself last night so i wasnapos;t sitting by my phone or the computer wondering where she was... I still wondered amongst all the chaos i was thrown into. I still texted while i was in the middle of people skanking into me, i still texted when Genevieve decided to harass the anti-abortion protesters sitting in front of Planned Parenthood, steal some signs and turn us into fugitives... I STILL fucking called and texted...

i may have slight ADD, but iapos;m not distracted from my everyday life (when i do actually have one) and forget to call or even remember you.






i feel like trash. Or like some fucking goldfish. That you only have for show (not that iapos;m much to look at) and feed... But when youapos;re gone, its the last thing you think about. (although i DO worry about my tiny pets and plants when iapos;m away and hope theyapos;re not dead when i come back... I actually ask how theyapos;re doing...)

i donapos;t want to have to deal with it today.



whether she apologizes today, or gives me a legit reason... Im not forgiving her so quickly. Sheapos;s on probabtion.. Hah... I just feel disgusted with myself.


why have me here? why am i here?











im sorry for always crying about my "life" but sheapos;s my everything. And when sheapos;s gone and does this to me.. It hurts the most.

she makes me cry all the time. It makes me unhappy. But. Maybe she hates me because iapos;m a big nothing right now with no job.


at least iapos;m trying.





















right?














...

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cilencio en quedate solo

Iapos;m moving this winter, and Iapos;m starting to clean out my apartment because I have WAYYYY too much stuff. So:

Round 1 of stuff you might want... YARN

Thereapos;s like 20 or so wool and cotton partially used or unopened yarns in every color ever.


Then I have maybe 30 or so decorative/accent yarns/fibers whatever.


Iapos;m more than willing to throw them all in a big bag and drag them to campus if youapos;re interested. Make me an offer...
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dress form victorian

Today I went shopping with Sam and just had a blast. Sam, Josh, and I all ate at the newly remodeled China Village Buffet (now the Grand Village Buffet)and me and Sam thoroughly enjoyed the chocolate fountain while Josh enjoyed his every-single-kind-of-mushroom stir-fry. We went to two Wal-Marts throughout the day to visit Tiff and then to buy some more stuff. We went to the mall to look for stuff for my Halloween costume and random other things and then we decided to go to the Boat. Iapos;ve never been to the Par-A-Dice so it was quite the adventure for me. I put in $25 and left the boat with $35. Not a bad deal. Just played penny slots. It was sooo much fun though. Sam and I agreed to go once a month to the boat.

This weekend John is taking me, Jen, and Kelvin shooting up at my grandmaapos;s. Jen is hoping not to shoot anyone of get ricocheted bullets flying at her face. It should be a great time... Iapos;m planning on taking tons of pictures.
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Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


Dylan Thomas
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