Girl detectives never count on things working out smoothly.  It's all forensic evidence and questionable leads from the hotline.  

I am an emotional wreck tonight.  I need some hugs.  With my body goofing so hard, doctors appointments ahead of me, I'm just alone in this worry pit.  I know everything is probably normal but it's still stressful.  I want to think I have someone who will just come hug it out with me if I ask but I'm afraid to ask because I don't want to find out that I don't actually have that, because I'm happy, and I want to stay here in this cocoon.

But I'll ask. 

For being a fiercely independent woman, I have been feeling quite vulnerable lately.  I need especially big hugs and loves and cuddles and kisses and small pats on the back.  I'm overwhelmed with my own ambitions and creative output, which conflicts with my non-creative schoolings.  I'm not really sleeping.  

Last night I went to Funky Town and danced with an 85 year old man named Bill.  His bolo tie caught my attention immediately.  I had to.  

I've been very impressed by someone lately.  It's a challenge because when I'm impressed, I find myself feeling quite unimpressive (it's like walking on the bottom of the ocean!).  The discourse between my better judgement, my body and my beating little heart--and what each of them needs vs. wants--is mind blowing.  I'm fine and nothing is really wrong, except I'm just very impressed, which again, makes me feel very unimpressive and in need of more positive reinforcement.  Maybe that is also why I want big hugs and loves and cuddles and kisses and small pats on the back.  I was thinking it might just be because I am going to get my period and I feel like a lunatic woman.  Or, you know, school stress.  gRaDeS. 

I need to start carrying my camera every day and wearing more sun screen on my face even if I'm only outside for a few minutes.  

There is a visiting object in my apartment left by the impressive one.  Things have been moved out of place.  Food containers have been left on the countertop with just crumbs remaining and fingerprints are left on my cups and smells have been left on my blankets and skin and hair.  Even through deep scrubbing, I've absorbed the presence of an entirely different person and am reminded of them a few times a day at least, without warning.  When it happens and it's new like this (and "it" can be a lot of different things), it rides in on a pre-dawn wave of deep sighing and stomach gurgling. I'll watch it come in from the shore and hope it wont consume me or wash me out to sea.  Will it bring in a foamy, green surf to hug my legs or is it something much more sinister?  

I'm worth being perused and this is worth investigating. Girl detective is on the case. 

The things I am writing privately are I think some of the best things I've been writing in a long time.  Life as fiction, life as inspiration to fiction.  

I did my taxes. $$$

Wilco, Nick Lowe & Mavis Staples rehearse "The Weight"

fireball and ghost

Even though it doesn't effect me anymore (and never did, maybe?) I'd just like to point out that I still find it very interesting that I was less interesting than a person like *that*.  I'm probably not anymore, am I?

The Carter Family - Chewing gum.

My most favorite!

What I do when I'm at home alone.

I might start a series of these.

This has been an awesome new year so far.  I feel like I almost have something that is up to speed with what I need, but it's not quite right yet, but it's not bad at all yet, so how do I know it's not right?  I sort of think of the last few months of the year and can't believe some of the things that happened to me.  I'm a pretty tough bitch, amiright?  Just more of a reason to get on top of things and stay there.  I have accepted the fact that physical happiness has everything to do with mental contentment.  I wish I were more easily impressed or charmed,  but knowing how hard it is makes me like what I've got going even more, even if it's probably unhealthy.  I know who is worthy of my time and energy.  Not a lot of people, but I've never been wrong. 

Romanticism! Romance!

I am completely okay with the way everything is going right now.  Nature is amazing.

In other news, Beyonce named her child after me.

2012 - The doorway lean

Here I am in 2012.  I'd been in 2012 for 18 hours by the time this picture was taken.  What's a new year mean?  Generally speaking, it means a lot of opportunity--though I tend to let myself forget that the same opportunity for change and improvement exists for me just the same on the other 364 days a year.  This is the first time I feel as though I am punching my way into a new year as an actual woman of the world.  I know most of all and best of all how difficult my life can be if I let it.  I know that I've had a plethora of wonderful experiences and awful ones and that some which seemed awful as I lived them actually weren't so bad once the shock wore off, and were probably for the best.  I read something the other day that was talking about the beauty of eternalness of young things and youth.  They will always exist but no one can keep them.  I turn a quarter of a century old this year.  Bring it on. 

This song is piping through my shotgun apartment right now, like a bullet of racial tension and humility. Thanks Hank! 

Malcolm X - A Change is gonna come

I got robbed last night in Vietnam Memorial Park.  Fireball knew something was wrong when I came home, and stood gallantly by my side until I called the appropriate people.  He is such a good alpha cat.

Tonight I swam in the heated, outdoor pool at the Westin.  If you know me, you know this is heaven.

Whitney Terrell is mad that I am not applying to the MFA at UMKC--and as KC is really my town--so am I.  So I decided I would apply.  Except I forgot that I haven't taken the GRE, so now I cannot.  It's fine.

I remember an ex boyfriend of mine said he was going to keep track of how much money his creative work made him, in a list or spread sheet or something.  I am at $600 so far.  I think that's more than him.  I think. I don't know why I even care, because it doesn't even matter.

I smell like swimming pool, minus sun screen because it was a night swim.  It is in my hair and on my skin.  I am reluctant to wash it away.  It is a rare odor for December.  Here I go, none the less.

Nathaniel Samuel Fisher, Jr - I Just Want To Celebrate

Neko Case-- The Pharaohs

Neko Case - Star Witness

A scent left on your coat from someone you hugged days ago. An express checkout lane of people who will never be your family even though you thought they might. Coughing so hard your eyes pop out of your skull. Six Feet Under marathoning. Driving around in the rain in Raytown listening to Neko Case, forgetting the entry code to your destination, driving back. Braided hair beneath red cap, all wrapped in a puffy coat, which takes me back to the beginning. This was quite a Monday.

A Love Note

A Love Note from Blue McNiel on Vimeo.

Don't you know?

That bad people just feed off of good people?  That the spring which flows deep within the French Alps of a good persons heart is contaminated often by oil drums and old homework and used condoms from the bad?  People drink that, like it's actually water.

Patsy Cline - She's Got You

Journey's End

It would be easy for me to over analyze this scene.  So I guess I sort of will.  When the real Doctor talks about how this copy Doctor with one heart is just him before he met Rose, I feel like that's pretty profound.  Right now I feel like I am both me knowing my Rose (...) and me not knowing my Rose.  I am both Doctors at once right now.  Which means I am the real Doctor--because only the real Doctor can be both at one single time.  I am the one who walks away and travels on to more adventures through time and space, in his TARDIS.  I had a life before and have a life after and carrying all of that with me makes me the real deal.

It's hard knowing that I am going to have such a great, successful life, but that right now has to be like this for an undetermined amount of time.  I am good at pretending that right now is not like this, but yesterday was a good example of how that doesn't work--it just builds and builds.

And I just climb and climb.

Which is way better than I was doing before.  I think I was just letting the rising water lift me.  That just takes so long.

I just threw away 7 pounds of Cherpumple Pie Cake.  I had a single bite about six days ago.  I hope who ever had some liked it.  I wish I had someone to feed.  But, one light off, one light on, my neighb Christine just gave me 4 pounds of cheesecake.  Key Lime and Raspberry.  I'll never make it through this, either, but I am happy to know it's there to offer, if I ever need to offer someone something.