So I'm Taking the Bull by the Balls...Or Was It horns?

     Yes, that seriously IS my post title. I've decided that moving would probably be for the best. It's not that I hate it here. I love it here. My family's here and life seems pretty easy here but I need more in my life than easy. I'm still writing and I really want to pursue that as well as my acting which is a horrible mix since both are businesses that deal highly in rejection. But let's face it, I'm alright with dealing with rejection. Anywho, I'm super excited to have the opportunity to move into a new place that I can finally call MINE! And though I'd prefer to live alone simply for the wonderful opportunity to strut around in my knickers, I'm glad to say that if I do move I'll have the pleasure of my brother as a roommate. And boy am I going to be on his ass about dishes and dust.
     I'm scared though. I will miss my daddy most of all and though I know he'll be okay I'm worried that no one will be there for him. I love him and I'm pretty much the only person that makes a REAL effort. I wish others would too. He wouldn't be alone all the time...when did children start worrying about their parents?!
     Anywho, it was a recent development in my life that I just needed to put out there to make sure that I continue to follow through. It's a big world out there. And I'm ready to discover it.

Depressing Moments

     I've been having a lot of sad moments lately. Mostly it's feeling...not left out...sort of forgotten. I keep wanting to move away but I never do. Then I have that feeling that others give of that I've done something wrong. Most of it comes from other people being passive aggressive towards me. I'm not complaining I'm simply stating a fact.  It happens. Which is why I keep wanting to move away. Start anew. But I do have positive aspect in my life. People who make me feel welcome and loved...as the case may be.
     Perhaps it is just for this moment but...I am not happy. I need a space for myself. Somewhere that I know I belong, somewhere I know that I can be and simply be me. Where I can think and just pass through time as I am supposed to. I want to finish my books and I keep trying to finish but there is something keeping me from it. And it's not writer's block. It's a wall. A looming brick wall that has obscured my path so effectively that I cannot see an end on either side. But maybe it's like Labyrinth. Maybe I can just talk to a cute little worm and then find a hidden path in the bricks?

It Seems That I Have No Friends

     Okay, so I don't mean that I don't have ANY friends. I do have friends but it occurs to me that I do not have anyone or group that I hang out with on a regular basis. The last person that I had that with...well I don't want to get into that. Lets just say that I don't talk to them anymore except for a few comment exchanges on Facebook. And that was about a year and a half ago? Or was it just a year? I don't know and it doesn't even matter. The point is at some point I pulled away from everyone.
     My high school friends went their own way and I went mine and then the ones that I still hung out with made new friends and I didn't see them as much anymore. I've made new friends too but they too have friends of their own that they hang out with regularly. So I'm...not alone but solitary I guess. I enjoy the company of other human beings at times but for some reason I revert back to my corner of the world.
     There's a thought that occurs to me very often. I don't voice it aloud and I never linger on it but it seems that this thought which occurs to me often falls under the topics of today's blogs.

Am I boring? I think I am.


But if I am, I think I make myself that way. I'm not the person I use to be. I'm more subdued, reserved, and mellow...redundant sentence is redundant. So how do I get comfortable enough to let myself be the person I was born to be? My brother Pete is one of the only people who knows me. My Mom too I guess. Because honestly guys, I'm dumb. Like, silly dumb. I'm stupid. I'd probably be annoying to most people if I let myself be. I probably already am.

     Anywho, today's blog was just to vent. I have thoughts and if I don't get my thoughts out of my head they interfere with my writing. Which I haven't done in a few days

Who are you and what are you thinking?

    I've been trying to figure things out a lot lately. I'm the type of person that constantly adapts and more-so my way of thinking. Because of this the way I see things or understand them changes so frequently (as it pertains to me) that I can never take my own advice. My friends come to me for advice sometimes, "Well, don't dwell on it. The more you stress over it the more it's going to bother you." "Well if it's really bothering your why don't you talk to him/her about it? It's better for him/her to know what's going on in your head. He/She can't read minds." "Take a deep breath and think about what you're saying before you say it. Think about how much time you're wasting being angry and how much worse you're making it by being destructive with your prodding as opposed to being constructive by discussing the issue."

    These are things I say to those around me who find themselves lost or confused. And more times than not, they do not take my advice. They continue to stress, keep their mouths shut, and provoke and don't think about why I might have given them that specific bit of advice. Perhaps it might have helped? Either way it doesn't matter. The point of today's blog is merely the realization I've had that I have no one to do that to me. People give me advice, or think they're giving me advice, but really all they're doing is stating their opinion. I try to take my own advice but as I said before, my way of thinking changes too often. "Why did he/she say that? Don't think about it too much, Stephanie. Just accept it for what it is. The second time they proclaimed to want to do something similar was them just simply saying they wanted to do not seeking an invitation." Often times I sit for minutes at a time (because I try not to think about it) and think about the little things. Then I remind myself that the little things don't mean anything. Or do they? I honestly have no idea! How can I already be twenty-two and have no idea what I'm doing?

    I guess most people are like that at any age though. Some people go their whole lives pretending they know what they're doing, telling everyone that they know what they're doing, but deep down they're just as confused, scared, and nervous as I am. I have a few moments of clarity but they are fleeting and far between. When I try to remember this epiphany I cannot and I digress back to my confused and worried self though the outer shell of what I present may be a bit surer of herself.

    The point is, I know who I am but I do not know who you are (I spill this out into the void—"you" can be many a people) so by all means speak your mind. Tell me what you're thinking otherwise I will spend a few moments of silence in your company as I process what you've just said. Then again, you know what? Don't tell me what you're thinking! Takes the fun out of all the mystery!

It’s About More Than That

    I've realized that I do something. I have a tendency to get these big ideas (for writing) and they all revolve around "love". There are the few that don't. I realize now why the first manuscript I finished was the one for Sacred Terra. It was of course because that story, though love is in it, it's not the focus. There was something else that I wanted to say. Something that ranked itself above having a relationship. I think maybe that's why I loved The Host by Stephenie Meyer so much more than her entire Twilight series. In the end The Host stood for something other than just a relationship. It's also why I'm going to stick with my new idea. The most recent one. I've only really told one person about it. One person that's in on the details and like me this person has sat on the sidelines for most of the focus of the book. I wrote down the idea because I had a feeling. I was very attracted or attached to a person and this person and my situation with them inspired an idea however that attraction has ceased and now all I'm left with is the facts. I can see them there…not on the page yet but forming. This story is about more than love. It's about the people. So many people and so many differences and yet they're all connected in one large circle. I may come out of this hated. That's okay, I'm looking for an out anyway.

    Sometimes life gives you a lemon.

Yes…it’s true…

…I do have a vampire manuscript in the works. Haven't worked on it in months though. It's on hold.

 

 

Steph

My Brother and I

    I'm constantly amazed at how people become who they are. There are certain things in life that shape them out to who they turn out to be. Several things factor into that of course including relationships, familial, and personal crisis.

    I have a brother whom I love. I love him as much as any sister could love a brother but at some point in time we went wrong. Our personalities pulled us in two different directions and I can't help but feel a sense of loss because I've tried to put up with who I've become and at times I've accommodated who he has become and yet we're still at opposite ends of the spectrum because I feel as if he's still thinking of me as a child when in reality I'm not.

    In order for two people to grow and form a lasting relationship, especially with siblings, I feel that both people must accept that both parties have changed substantially since they were kids. I'm not a little girl anymore and I have opinions. I have feelings, thoughts, morals, principles, and limits. I'm twenty-two and I'm at a point in my life when what I do doesn't always revolve around my immediate family. The only consistency I have is my father and that's simply because we've worked out a partnership based on the fact that we both care and love each other. He's compromised for me and I for him.

    My brother is not perfect. No one in my family is. Neither of my brothers is perfect (just putting that out there before I start some kind of familial war). Perhaps I should save this for a time when I can speak to him personally but since the incident having to do with my boundaries and my insistence that actions have consequences, he hasn't answered my calls or when I attempt to speak to him on Facebook and there's just no other way to get this point across. And the funny thing is he probably won't even read this.

    I remember the day that the relationship with said brother changed forever. It set the tone for our future as siblings and it was…well, without any proper words to really convey the disappointment of an eleven year old I can only say that it hurt. The day started out fine, great in fact, with the promise of fun. My brother, whom I rarely saw at this point seeing as he was around the age I am now and too busy for very much family time, decided that a day with his sister was in order. He offered me a trip to the movies to see a recent release and excitedly I agreed to go. Halfway there, dressed as any eleven year old and eager for the popcorn and pickle, my brother turned to me and asked me if I'd mind if he invited a "friend". Of course, I didn't. And I wouldn't, I'd spent time with him and his "friend" at home before and we got along fine so I didn't mind. Back then I was the bubblegum on his shoe. So we arrived at the movies and I was still eager and happy. He bought our tickets and he bought me my snacks then we ushered in and took our seats. We weren't sitting for very long when he looks to me and tells me that he's going to go wait for his friend outside. "Okay, mom?" In my pre-adolescent innocence I conceded and he left. The lights dimmed and the trailers began and soon the movie was rolling and still my brother was not beside me. Half of the movie passed and then three quarters and finally, just as the movie was about to finish, my brother came back. I didn't say anything but as I sat there watching How the Grinch Stole Christmas I felt very much alone.

    That's when everything changed. After that things just progressed in a downward spiral. Disappointments piled and the relationship became frail and finally I simply couldn't take it anymore. My brother, who I worshiped, became someone I couldn't even respect anymore. I'm not writing this to berate anyone or to hurt anyone's feelings. I simply write because I feel and I need an outlet. One that won't tell me how I should proceed or what I shouldn't have said or what I need to say. I just need to get it out there so that even if it's one faceless person whom I'll never meet or speak to, maybe they'll get it. Maybe they'll get me and I won't have to explain myself. I won't have to tell them why I said this or why I did that. It's not that I don't want to be a part of people's lives, I just don't want to be used or overlooked.

    I'm not eleven years old anymore, big brother. And maybe, when you realize that, we can have a relationship again. Until then however, I suppose we'll simply have to deal with the fact that we'll have to be strangers for a little while until we can reunite and get to know each other all over again.