cellosong: (Default)
I had forgotten how it feels
to stand on a thin veneer of glass
and look below to see a pit
and know that it should be your fate
and all this glass and trickery
is but for now, and it can wait.
cellosong: (Default)
 Can't sleep.  Too sad.  

The thought of never running my hands through his hair again pulls at my heartstrings painfully.  Thinking of all the hair he'll grow, and cut, and grow again without me seeing it or teasing him about it does the same.  I miss his eyes that would turn blue and green, the freckles that made a Cassiopeia on his arm, the way he smelled, the way I fit into his shoulder just so.  

These are the things one thinks about when one forgets the fighting, the aggravated sighs that wound--the refusal to touch, to kiss, to hug, and remembers only the soft nights and touches, the smiles, the wonder, the heat.

All so far gone, but the memory lingers and brings tears to my eyes that it will never be rediscovered.

And so I can't sleep.
cellosong: (Default)
on the morning when I woke up without you for the first time,
I felt free.
and I felt lonely.
and I felt scared.
and I began to talk to myself almost immediately,
not being used to being the only person there.
hmmmm

the first time I made coffee for just myself,
I made too much of it.
but I drank it all,
just 'cause you hate it when I let things go to waste.
and I wandered through the house, like a little boy lost at the mall.
and an astronaut could've seen the hunger in my eyes from space.

and I sang oh
what do I do?
what do I do?
what do I do?
what do I do without you?

on the morning when I woke up without you for the first time,
I was cold, so I put on a sweater.
and I turned up the heat.
and the walls began to close in
and I felt so sad and frightened,
I practically ran from the living room out into the street.

and the wind began to blow and all the trees began to bend.
and the world in its cold way started coming alive.
and I stood there like a businessman waiting for a train.
and I got ready for the future to arrive.

and I sang oh
what do I do?
what do I do?
what do I do?
what do I do without you?

-

Mike and I have gone our separate ways.  It's probably for the best.

But I miss him a lot.

A lot a lot.

And I suppose I will for a long time.
cellosong: (Default)
Fighting with Mike, trouble at work, no paycheck, not so great sleep, mood swings that are almost imperceptible to me and glaring to everyone else, paying rent on my tenuous sanity, 'z' key is stuck on the downstairs keyboard, still live in the house I grew up in, stress, stress, depression, unseasonable heat, no reason to believe any of it will change.

Bleh.
cellosong: (Default)
Great.  So I should be finishing my fake stress induced period just in time for my real period to start.  Fuck you too, you traitor ass body.  Fuck you too.
cellosong: (Default)
If you're interested in how my work is going, I've started a blog about it:  tipsybarista.blogspot.com/

I'm trying to make sure it's not directly connected to my work though--I'm loud and opinionated, and the last thing we need is people from two doors down bitching that I bitch about them.  :P

This journal is about my hoooooome liiiiiiiife.  Things like: Mike just started his Psych rotation yesterday, and seems to be v. interested in hanging out and things so :D but I'm not sure whether or not he will continue to want to hang out with me when I'm actually hanging out with him. 

Also, it's time for Beast Women again!!! :D  Everyone is invited this time.
cellosong: (content)
Taking a break from attempting to make our website (http://www.idreamofsweets.webs.com -- check it out!) higher up on search engines when searching for desserts in Evanston to post that I am doing that.

Booooriiiing.

Everything here is so delicious, people should be coming in, but they aren't. Also Bagel Art is serving cookies now. I am angry at them (as usual). Sweet things are OUR thing! >:O rarrarrarrar. Well, it would be okay if they weren't like two doors down.

The good news: we got some bread samples from this italian bakery supply place that are really effing delicious. I mostly mean the multigrain because I haven't really tried the other breads because I'm too obsessed with the multigrain. But still, it's my job to do it, so I'll have to do it eventually.

Problematically, the new bread is bigger than our take-out boxes. Damnit! Everything is ruined forever!

Except for the multigrain bread.
cellosong: (Default)
So is it worth it to fork over $20 to be able to make my own custom mood themes.

I'm leaning towards no.
cellosong: (sigh)
Secretly, I am one hundred razor shards waiting
to fly violently away from the pure, harsh tone
that is the center of my soul. I am one hundred
silent fingers scrabbling at stones, panting
scratch-grooves to tell the airless story they are
living, each afraid of the dark, afraid of the
space, afraid that they will be the last
marker, that turning to their ninety-nine brothers
will yield nothing but the relentless pure tone
and the shattering of glass.


---


I feel like I'm in a place where I have nothing to contribute but vitriol. Biting, nasty, cruel, sarcastic; any moment equidistant from flying into a rage, a panic, a crushing and angry destructive mess. Its fingers are in my shoulders in every muscle, my head is spinning with it--I feel out of control.

Time for a bath in the dark, I think.
cellosong: (aaaaaaaaahhhh!)
Is what Kelsey called it today. Honestly I kind of agree. We sort of gravitate to these small businesses that desperately need help whether it's because they fail to advertise, or they fail to organize, or something or other else. And by continually I mean twice, but it feels like continually.

I'm really stressed out about it, I just realized. It's an insane weight on me to be put in the place where I'm worried about keeping a business alive instead of just working there. Sometimes I think I'd love the corporate grind for a while just because it's mind numbingly safe. Answer phones, take notes, do my job, do it well, go home, and think about maybe going out to party or shoot some pool sometimes. Play some D&D--but right now, I just can't let myself relax, because I know if I do, we'll go down the drain.

I sound kind of prideful and full of myself there, I know... but it's how it feels.

I'm really glad beyond words that Kelsey is working there with me. Together we're able to achieve so much more than I could do alone. We've done so much re-organizing, re-stocking, finding old stock and putting it out, coming up with new ideas for things to sell, working out events and advertising that James just doesn't have time to deal with, especially because of the Lorenzo-stuck-in-Italy fiasco.

Which is a fiasco.

Sigh. Oh well.
cellosong: (Default)
I was typing in the address for gmail about a minute ago and a thought struck me. My God, how far the internet has come. I remember when AOL was the only way you could get to it, and everything was reached through keywording in the program--it was browser, chat program, networking site all rolled into one, and it was dialup.

That got me thinking about the OS I was using at the time. Windows Tabworks. The 3.x version. Whooof. Everything's gotten so much... depth since then. It's absolutely fascinating.

Those of you who are my age or older--remember. You were alive for the birth of the public access internet.

Holy shit balls. We are old. ;P
cellosong: (Default)
(1:38:52 AM) Natelew4: have you ever seen breaking bad?
(1:38:55 AM) Jasmin: nnnno?
(1:39:25 AM) Natelew4: you might enjoy it, it is about a chemistry teacher who after finding out he has cancer starts a meth lab
(1:39:30 AM) Jasmin: oh right
(1:41:26 AM) Natelew4: so I will be back.....on a completely unrelated topic......oh and do you know where to get discount gas masks just in case >.>
(1:41:34 AM) Jasmin: nooooooope
(1:41:35 AM) Jasmin: wait
(1:41:37 AM) Jasmin: the internet
(1:41:53 AM) Natelew4: LoL thanks......and I promise I am not plotting to start any crystal meth labs
(1:42:22 AM) Jasmin: yeah
(1:42:25 AM) Jasmin: cause you're not a chemist ;P
(1:42:46 AM) Natelew4: yeah I am a physicist, I am like 10 chemists :P

--uh oh--

(1:42:54 AM) Natelew4: <3
(1:43:10 AM) Jasmin: yeah. like 10 freshman chemists.
(1:49:09 AM) Natelew4: 10 sophmore chemists, I am a graduate physicist :P
(1:49:22 AM) Jasmin: do you have your PhD yet?
(1:49:35 AM) Natelew4: PhD means I am worth 10 senior chemists
(1:49:37 AM) Natelew4: :P
(1:49:44 AM) Jasmin: 10 second semester freshman chemists.
(1:49:50 AM) Natelew4: bah fine
(1:50:09 AM) Natelew4: in my area of focus we actually have ot learn a lot of biology and chemistry
(1:50:10 AM) Jasmin: or 5 sophomore chemists, if you like.
(1:50:40 AM) Jasmin: Sure. I believe you.
(1:51:08 AM) Jasmin: And I know you're teasing, but it makes me crazy when people talk about their area of study like it's better than others. Especially in science. ><;
(1:51:19 AM) Natelew4: sorry
(1:52:28 AM) Jasmin: Say it's words
(1:52:45 AM) Jasmin: And a mathematician is master of all letters. Every letter in the alphabet.
(1:54:19 AM) Natelew4: then?

Cut for a long ass metaphor )

AND THEN

(2:11:02 AM) Jasmin: AH SHIT THAT WAS THE WORST IDEA OF MY LIFE
(2:11:09 AM) Laura O: What was?
(2:11:39 AM) Jasmin: the closest thing to my hand that I was drinking was a Mike's Hard pink lemonade
(2:13:36 AM) Jasmin: so I took my drugs with it, found out that I couldn't swallow it fast because it was carbonated, took a half swallow, accidentally bit down because it burnt with carbonation and got the lamotrigine in half, which immediately turned into an obviously reactive powder and fizzed into this nasty tasting foam. I swallowed it all due to some miracle, and then had no drink left to wash away the taste.
(2:13:38 AM) Jasmin: GAY.
cellosong: (Default)
fffffffffffffffffffuck. that is all.
cellosong: (Default)
I'm in a horrible mood because my painstakingly crafted layout has been destroyed by LJ somehow. While I put it back together, please enjoy this stupid one that at least has the same color scheme. Although it's not like any of you actually read my journal apart from updates on your friends page. :P

Took a nice drive with Ariel tonight--wine with her, Kelsey, and Topher.

I resent my mood icon for having fruit while I have none. It is difficult for me to go to bed having had nothing to eat but my tasty drugs, but when I eat right before I sleep I have weird(er) dreams.

My nap dream may actually turn into a short story or novel. Perhaps I shall make it happen for NaNoWriMo this year. That is all. Oh, and my Mexican immigrant job may turn into an actual legitimate job with a two dollar raise. To minimum wage. I'm essited.

In other news, I went to physical therapy this Monday. My therapist is a miracle worker. Everyone should go to her. EVERYONE. She says she can fix not only my back (which apparently is caused by small tears in two of my lowest lumbar vertebrae discs) but my hip turn-in and my mild scoliosis. Hallelujah! :D
cellosong: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

We're still dating. :D Two years this month-ish (don't ask. or do.)
cellosong: (Default)
Just got back from the lake. I love my family--every little extended bit of them. I also love my kitty-cat who is getting more and more cuddly by the day... and is right now sniffing my foot.

I also love coffee.

Edit: what the hell happened to my painstakingly crafted layout?! it's all black and white and shit! aaaahg.
cellosong: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Ahahahahahaha! Hahaha! Hah! *wipes a tear from her eye* Aaah...
cellosong: (Default)
Seriously fuck. I tried to open the basement (corpse hatch) at work today and found that my back was displeased. Apart from that, I had as much fun at work as waking up at 6:00am allows one (who enjoys a lot of sleep). I actually like the morning, I've found. Usually when I'm done setting up the store I warm myself a chocolate croissant and pour a cup of coffee and sit outside and wave to everyone passing by. Today, however, there was no creamer, so I didn't get my coffee until round-about 2pm.

2 PM AAAAUGHH

That was my morning coffee.

Luckily Becca was there so I had someone to talk to. TGFT. We did a lot as far as store appearance upkeep, and I know we're positive overall and do good service, but... our store is seriously in trouble. Apparently a good day brings in ~$600. I thought we were doing well today--there wasn't a time the store was empty after 8am while I was there, and we did $20 in tips easily. When I left, we'd done ~$300, and that was at 3:30pm. Sigh.

It's not fair. IDoS deserves to do well. We have friendly staff, a good product, and a nice space (that is now air conditioned). Why is it that we're just one step ahead of the bills (and sometimes a step behind)? Sigh.

Rambles, because I drank a glass and a half of wine.
cellosong: (Default)
My back snapped again tonight at class, and I have a performance this weekend.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

Hm.

20 July 2010 20:00
cellosong: (Default)
Had a talk today about what constitutes cheating. My usual policy is if you ask yourself that question, it is.

I had more of an entry to write but then I passed out.

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