Why? Why am I still awake??

So I put on Abbey Road through my small computer speakers (what a shame the dude got the Bose) and begin to tell of my night. And let me tell you, I am typing with purpose. Ignore the hunger pangs because when in school you won't be able to afford to eat anyway, get used to it. Ha ha, hopefully.
I had a crappy waitress night because of a co worker whom I dislike and knew I did from the beginning but still gave her a ride home the other day. I do have a big heart. I am going to confront her about her lack of willingness to assist me while taking 100% of the gratuity(I should not have given her the table dammit!) by being very sweet. Starr's idea, and I think it's a good one. That's what sisters are for.
And I'm excited to spend time with mine on Weds.
I'm not even going to try to work that day. Hiking I will do, and have done a lot of. Utah is one beautiful state. Autumn brings out amazingness all around. Frida is as in love with it as I am. The other day she was running through a meadow of fallen Aspen leaves seemingly very deer like. The canyon is called Killiyon's and it is up Emigration Canyon, one of the seven major canyons that open up to the land of Zion. The trail has it all, wide open space, mountain stream, quaking Aspens, big tall Spruce's and plenty of other pines I'm sure. Simply amazing. I want to entrap all of Utah before the snow begins to fall.
Tomorrow, actually in four hours, Frida and I are going to the vet to discuss her ACL infliction. And this vet is so damn hot. Seriously, I am going to dress seductively. But he is married and since I am thirty four I've stopped doing deceitful things. Except to bitchy waitresses.

but good news

I STILL LOVE MYSELF. sometimes more each day.

f*#! my head

or what goes on inside of it rather. Pretty negative talk to begin with this post. I'm thirty four (like to keep reminding myself of that) and the great investor Suzie Orman would be hard to hear that I have nothing saved for my retirement. Nor for my life, which is quite upsetting as of late.
I am freaking out about moneys and college and pets and rents in LA. I do not want to take money from my parents, but that has been offered and I feel relieved when thinking of this. Not that I am not going to accept it, because I can and I will- the mantra of school.
And Shanneqwa Shalahom Shannanyanay this is no way to be thinking two god damned months before the start of a new life. OF GRADUATE SCHOOL. Type with purpose. And quicker. Get out of that funk!

gross.

Question: why would I waste any time on facebook when I could be writing here? Especially in the semi depressed mood that I am in, no better time to write than now. And why am I depressed noone might ask? Internal battle of money and grad school and being a waitress. And it is also one of those nights where I think I do nothing for the social side of my sanity and stay downstairs at my mothers home. I am thirty four.
I guess what I like is to have depressing thoughts. This must change. It's a good idea to phrase it as an adjective rather than a noun, learned this from some self help thing. I am depressing.
It's also a good idea to get some exercise.

Seems to be official... hurry up state budget

My wonderful father and I took a road trip to So. Cal this past week so that I could check out apartments and meet with the department head. I was a little nervous about the meeting, as my brain tells myself that I don't talk to people well (but I am starting to learn that is not the case). As I am walking out of her office she said to me, 'congratulations and welcome on board'. I'm taking this as a good sign. The college is still waiting for funding to go through and then the official letters will be sent out. Happy happy joy joy.
So thus begins the freak out mode of what needs to be done. And the top of the list is work, followed by finding a pitbull friendly apartment, next comes hiking before the damn snow falls and finally packing up all the furnishings for my own place.
I am really excited about getting my own apartment, rather than renting a room in a house. I need to focus and living close to campus in a one bedroom is key. I envision how I will decorate, the cupboards to be filled, art to be hung. And also buying my textbooks and reading the introductions before classes begin. I can and I will.

and here comes October

I got no man and the DVD I rented tonight is terribly scratched. Who cares about either one of these things when there is enough for me to do in this house and in this world that I need not spend one more minute languishing in my many thoughts. Shit I am thirty four years old. This is not where I want to be at this age.
But since I am here, I am going to do what I can to get to where I want to be.

A friend mentioned to me something that has made me realize it is time to focus on doing the things I need to do to succeed. I always loose myself in boys, phone calls, plans, basically just shit. Now is the time to cut back the minutes so I don't owe $100 each month, figure out where it is I will pursue my graduate degree (if LA falls through please God do not)and work.
I have had enough fun this summer. Besides, summer is over and fall has begun.

And since it is fall now, the colors are amazing and the best is yet to come. I am going to fill myself with foilage. And lest we forget, poetry.

me wants success

I think too much. Have been told this before, and I know it to be true so I am trying to focus on other things and one of those is getting a routine. But here is the kicker, the real shit kicker, I set up a study schedule one day for me, a timeline per se, and have yet to do it. I know I have stated this over and over again, but it's almost like I want to fail myself. Like I am setting myself up for disappointment. For instance, why would I fret about not getting into grad school when I have an email conformation stating my seat is saved. Because it's not an official letter, end of thought about that.

Next. After reading my last published post I only now sit down to write.. what is up with that? If I want to write, I should be doing it every single day. The harp still waits to be blown, the laps have lapsed and the pool is soon to close. Blah blah. It's not all blah though.
Had another amazing weekend in Vegas. My man George, a very good man indeed, played in a poker tournament and won twenty thousand dollars. Did you get that internets? 20 thousand dollars. The chips were so beautiful but the bundles of bills smelled better. I was a complete wreck watching him play and hoped that my nerves didn't get passed on to him. Out of 433 he qualified to the final 18 and then placed 5th. Way to go George! You don't even know this blog exists. He was so thoughtful too, gave me 1000 for support! (which went straight to the c.c and only 1000 more to go.)

So the goals are in place and I am definitely in the right head space the only thing now is movement. And that is what humans do, even hermits keep moving aka living. On a side note, I went to an exhibit of paintings done by Orangutans and it,once again, brought back my childhood dreams of being Jane Goodall. I'm thinking a crazy adventure (not metro city light up time) is in the near future.

waiting between the interment and the social

The obituary shocked me completely because Lee was born on my exact same birthday. Talk about a wake up to the shortness of life. I'm at his funeral supporting his sort of x wife and having a few private battles in my head when all that is spoken of Lee goes against everything I am internalizing. Why am I like this? One fellow even said to cut all the B.S out of your head and be up front with everyone you meet. Then why did I tell the girl I was introduced to Sunday that I couldn't remember her name because I was drunk? Truth was that I never introduced myself to learn her name. I know Lee would have told me to get the freak out of my head, you're at my funeral dude!
It was such a beautiful afternoon and I got pretty inspired from all of the friends who spoke so kindly of this man. It made me want to get to know more people. I wish I had spent the time to know Lee better when we worked together. The sense of commuinty around this man is one that I long for. I need to get involved with something that will last throughout my life. Lee had his drums and I have my thumb, which seperates me more than I'd like to admit. It is hard to get involved when I am going to be relocating soon and don't know where I will end up. But if the longing for community is there, will it find me? Does everything truly happen for a reason? I feel as though it does, just as Lee felt his life wouldn't be too long.
Lee was a musician and when they gathered to play the most amazing drums the little chapel in Spanish Fork will probably ever hear, his spirit was definitely there. The drum teacher called out to all people Lee's age and since we were born on the exact same day I have to take what he said to heart. Whatever it is that you want to do, do it. Time is short and you never know when it will be taken away from you.
I started thinking, what is it that I wanted to do? Writing came first to mind and that is why I stopped to jot this down before going to the home of a loved one to partake in food and listen to more drums. And learning to play the harmonica is something I wanted for a long time and since this afternoon was totally music oriented I think it is the right time to start. Lee's younger brother, a pianist recalled talking to him on Tuesday (he died Friday the 13) and Lee told him to practice. He told us all that he was going to. And I should take those words to heart as well.

Bonobo... don't you know...

I heard a great book review today and it brought me back to my childhood dreams that have not been forgotten, but have not been acted upon either. And I don't really plan to act on them except for in tourist ways. Because let's face it, at age 34 and with no biological sciences under my belt, I am not going to be a Jane Goodall.
The book is called Bonobo Handshake and I am adding it to my to reads before school starts list. The author is super hot too, Vanessa Woods is her name and she mentioned the woman who studied Orangutans who wrote a book O deeply admired in my early college years.
Now some family drama is going on and it is hard for me to focus on writing good stuff about my life. Truth be told, my parents are somewhat smootherers and don't get me wrong, they are the cream of the Earth, but comes a time when you've got to let your kids figure out their own shit WITH THE HELP OF PSYCHOLOGISTS. So boo ya!
And one last thing, why is it that after spending 90 minutes sweating out toxins from each tiny pore in my body I crave bad food? I ate the remnants of the Sunchips ma brought home rather than farm fresh peaches? No boo ya!