Mix Tape - For the Captain, With Love

From the top:

Girls And Boys In Love (David E Sugar's Shameless Mix) by Rumble Strips

Sugar, Sugar by The Archies

Bad Fever by The Astroids Galaxy Tour

Starlight by Muse

Queen of the World by Ida Maria

Song Away From You by Army of Freshmen

Eight Days A Week by The Beatles

Quit Your Life by MxPx

Body by Thao with The Get Down Stay Down

Just Like Heaven by The Cure

On The Sly by Metric

If I Had A Million Dollars by Barenaked Ladies

Seaside by The Kooks

You Are Mine by Mute Math

Behave! by Frightened Rabbit

Fake Empire by The National

Winter '05 by Ra Ra Riot

Part One by Band Of Horses

Islands by The xx

Last Winter by Fergus Brown

No One's Gonna Love You by Band Of Horses

The World Is New by Save Ferris

Not enough.

So the douche that killed Dallas was sentenced today. He only got 9 years in prison. 5 if he's on good behavior... It doesn't seem like enough. Dallas was such a vibrant, fun person that was so full of life and he cared so much about other people. To be killed by a drunk ass man who just left him there... I mean, the dude fled the country to avoid getting caught! That should have a huge punishment in it's self! And yet he only has to serve 5 years for sure....

It's just not enough.

I was hoping that after he was sentenced, I'd feel some sort of relief. I was hoping my heart would feel a little bit lighter. But instead, I feel empty and heart broken again. It's not fair. It's easy to be angry and wish horrible things would happen to that man. And believe me, I'm really wishing right now. But it's not going to fix anything. So my heart is heavy and there are tears in my eyes from the anger and disappointment I feel.

The US justice system has failed again. The man is a murderer. He stole someone's life. A life that would have been full of love and happiness and family and friends. My heart hurts all over again from the injustice.

But the injustice isn't as bad as it could be. At least the man is losing years from his life. He won't get to see his kids graduate from high school or be able to teach them how to drive. I take comfort in the fact that he'll miss a lot. But it's nothing compared to what Dallas' family will miss. What his friends will miss.

My heart is breaking all over again. It's just not enough. I don't feel relieved. I'm not happy. I don't feel like anything was won. We still lose, no matter what the situation is. Not only do we lose, but the world loses.

No matter what, it's just not enough.

RIP Ryan Dallas Cook. I love you.

Miss you.

Have you ever noticed the power of the words, "I miss you"? Yes they make you feel special that your friends care about you and that they miss you but they also have a potentially negative effect. Saying "I miss you" is like saying, "I'm hungry". As soon as you say it, it becomes more real. Suddenly, you keep thinking about it and can't stop. It feeds a monster inside and it refuses to be ignored. When you're hungry and you say, "I want In N Out," suddenly, all you want is In N Out! Nothing else will do. It's like that with "I miss you" for me. I say it and then suddenly, I really really miss you! It gets worse and worse the more I say it. It doesn't mean I'm going to stop saying it, because I mean it. It just makes it harder and makes it more potent and valid.

So basically, I miss you.

I've always thought some things were the same regardless of where you are. This is not true. I need to find that place that is accepting... I need to go back to that place, rather. I know where it is, I thought it would be here, too. I was wrong... and it makes me sad. Part of me thinks I can handle it. But the part that it matters to can't breathe. I've been myself for so long, it hurts to cut part of it off. Maybe somewhere else exists that is perfect... maybe I can find another true home... maybe I'm just not looking in the right places... maybe this is all just a dream and it's turning to a nightmare... this is such a whirlwind to be hit with. a hurricane. in South Florida. I want back to the left coast.

apologies for the vagueness

searched

I can only think that some day this will feel normal, but I don't know if I want that day to come. Tension brings friction and friction brings static and static brings sparks. Sparks start fires and I'm a true pyro. But my breath is short and my chest is beating loudly. Air seems to hold more than oxygen and nitrogen, something that makes my head spin. Dazed and confused. But not confused. Determined to complete two contradictory goals, to succeed while failing and fail at success. Is success so important? Is it more important than freedom failure brings... or is this all just a day dream.

Fall.

If there was ever a day that was able to prove that the seasons have changed, it'd be this day. It's beautifully sunny. It's blustery but in a good way. The wind is pulling the freshly changed leaves from their branches and helping them dance around in the air and on the ground. The air is cold and crisp and smells like Halloween. There are hints of hidden fires burning in fire places. Scarfs are almost a necessity, just so they can whip around you in the wind. It's beautiful out and the day is being wasted by having to be stuck inside a concrete prison. I just want to sit outside and watch the world.

The trees sway and ripple in the wind; enjoying life before their debilitated and crippled and water logged by the cold rain of winter. Everything is gearing up for Halloween and Thanksgiving.

Even the crows seem to know Halloween is coming. They're everywhere, playing is happy little murders, waiting to drop an over ripe apple or a hard walnut on someones car. They fly around laughing their funny, croaky, cawing laugh. They make me laugh in turn as they hop and scuttle about on the ground. Just watching them makes me happy that fall is finally here.

I wish it could always be fall. Or autumn if you're one of those weird stickler people. I've suffered through summer, miserably burning my painfully white skin. People like me aren't made for summer sun and sticky heat. I'm made for falling leaves, crisp air, scarfs and hoodies. This is my time of the year and I'm going to enjoy it while I can because before I know it, the rain will come and wash away the beauty.

Don't get me wrong, I love the rain. But it's just no match for this amazing fall beauty and the unmistakable feeling in the air that it brings.

The cause of wind

These butterflies have a mind of their own.
Or a heart of their own might be more accurate.
Little things that mean nothing send them in a whirlwind.
Their small iridescent wings flutter with such speed I can hardly breath.
Not at a kiss or an embrace, not at a wink or a smile.
Something so meaningless it could only be that these butterflies have a heart of their own.

Saves the moment.

Some days are just horrible. You hate your job. You hate your home. You hate your responsibility. You hate your lack of money. You hate your lack of social life. You hate not having someone there for you. You hate being alone. You feel like the most negative, hateful person in the world. You'd give anything to quit your life and move away and start a new one where no one knows you and there are zero expectations.

I'm having that day. It may be stress from the upcoming vacation. It may be the fact that I'm getting over a bad cold. It may even be hormones and PMS. Actually I'm fairly positive it's a combination of every one of these things.

I just want to scream. Everything sucks! I'm so frustrated! Fuck my life! Fuck fuck fuck!!!

And then... when the entire day seems completely lost and a waste of breath, something comes along and saves the moment.

In this case, it's a clip of the man of my dreams, dancing to the ring of his cell phone. It's so goofy and cute that it's absolutely impossible to stay in a bad mood after watching it. It's the perfect little 10 second, random thing that can just catch me so off guard that I can't help but smile and laugh.

Inside, I know I'm still stressing out and I'm still so angry and unhappy with my life. But for the moment, he's saved it and caught me off guard, making me smile. I don't know him but I'm grateful for his adorable ways and for the network that interviewed him and captured that moment and for posting it online.

The day is not lost because that adorable, oddball, goofy, random moment saved my day. He'll never even know it. But that's OK.

Sweetner

Sitting on a soft towel digging her feet into a hole of warm, powdery sand, she watches the waves ripple onto the shore. The water's translucency lends little coverage to the small silvery fish in the shallows. She gets up to see closer what the sun sparkles on from it's afternoon post and the barely cool surf splashes gently against her ankles. The mist tickles her face as she reaches down to what appears to be a coin, though not a currency she's ever seen. As the sands let go of her small treasure, a simple locket is revealed. Tarnished and scratched, it has no chain but the latch is still solid. She struggles to open it, and would toss it back if not for the engraved symbol that compels further intrigue. The image is nothing she understands, but somehow she knows it to mean sweet. Once open she finds no picture of two lovers, no vintage romance photographed. She finds yet another piece of jewelry, though this one is not tarnished or scratched. Hanging from a silver strand, the small charm is a brilliant light green gem that shines like a star. Without a thought the girl clasps it around her neck, the gem falling just above her chest.

Softly, she starts to cry.

The tears fall silently down her cheek dripping off her sun kissed lips as she loses the strength or will to stand, gently collapsing onto the beach staring at the most beautiful ocean she has ever seen. Her eyes cannot find the ability to blink, as though to blink would lose the moment and the moment could not be lost. It is the best moment she has ever experienced. It is real and the stuff of fairy tales, as though color has not existed before and now it is all at once more brilliant than ever imagined. She dares not blink. She could barely breath. As the tide surrounds her, a firm but kind hand grabs her shoulder. The sun had set hours ago and she is shivering, though her eyes will not look away from the sea now sparkling with moonlight. To her, it was an expanse of diamonds dancing along black hills of onyx. The hand grasps at her again, this time he moves into her view. At first saddened by the interruption of her ocean ballet, she quickly forgets all about it.

This man is more beautiful than even the majestic waters filled with precious stones.

His smile instantly fills her heart with joy as it dimples his cheeks. His eyes are strong and caring. His lips are tender as he kisses her forehead. She realizes she would die if he ever left her. His voice is soft and she did not understand why he felt the need to speak until she hears his words. His words are so kind and so filled with love she prays he would never cease to speak. Her ears could not bare silence after listening to his sweet ramblings. Then she realizes his words mean something, something she understands. He is someone she knows, someone she loves. She is so overcome by relief and excitement of knowing and loving and having and keeping this man, this wonderful beautiful man, she wants only to kiss him.

And so she kisses him.

And she cannot stop kissing him. She kisses him as he lifts her up out of the water and as he carries her across the sands. She kisses him as he wrapped her wet, cold figure with a sand covered towel and she kissed him as he guided her footsteps home. She kisses him in the elevator and she kisses him in the hallway as he struggles with the keys because she won't stop kissing him for one moment. She will not stop kissing him, to not kiss him would be to not live. She must kiss him. He kisses her as he leads her to the shower, and rinses her skin free of salt and sand. He kisses her as he dries her shoulders and arms and legs. He kisses her as they fall onto the white covers of their bed. They kiss as though it is all that exists in their world, because it is all that exists. Their kisses go further though they never cease kissing. In these kisses she slowly drifts to sleep, though in her dreams the kissing continues. Each kiss sweeter than the last.

red head with a tan

I wrote this in April '09 when everything was being put in motion to start my big life altering adventure.

I don't tan. I don't burn (ok I do but not like typical pale red heads that can't go outside without SPF 200). I freckle. Alot. When I was a little girl I wanted all my freckles to join together and cover me completely in a nice dark tan like my mom and brothers always had...I think it will happen this year. I've already got a strong army of dots forming from spring snowboarding trips and Santa cruz weekends, and I'll only be adding to their numbers as I approach my very sunny future...summer this year promises days out on the porch and fall in Florida is pretty much like summer in Florida. Florida. I never thought I'd want to be in Florida. I never thought I wouldn't want to me in Florida. I just never thought of Florida at all. And now I can't hardly wait to be in Florida. Or maybe I can't hardly wait to not be here. Stuck. Unmoved by anything that tried to rip me away, or sweep me up. I've always wanted to go, but part of me would think it through and realize the adventure wasn't adventurous, it was a way to escape. But it would escaping to the same. Not something new, not something adventurous. But Florida, with a small rehab stay in new york. Florida is something new. Florida is adventurous.

Just Dance. It'll Be Ok.

I'm officially declaring it. I'm in love with dancing. I've always been that girl that stands on the sidelines, watching everyone else have fun; secretly itching inside to get out there with them but terrified of being judged. I've always been afraid of looking spastic and uncoordinated. What I really needed was encouragement and training. Now that I'm in a class, I'm letting go of the fears and inhibitions. I don't know what'll happen outside of that classroom when the opportunity of dance presents itself. But I know inside of that room with the wall of mirrors, I'm so excited and eager to learn. I don't care what the other ladies think. But none of them are negative towards my lack of experience. They're all eager to give me pointers and encouragement. That helps me more than they'll ever know. Not only am I killing one of my biggest fears but I'm discovering a passion and feeding a need I've had for a long time. My body has always itched to dance. I'm starting to feel more comfortable in my body. I'm aware of every part of it. I'm aware of how I hold myself. I'm aware of my shit posture. I'm aware of my heavy, stomping feet. I'm even aware of the placement of my fingers and toes. My body is getting toned and less squashy. My muscles are getting to move again which is something they were lacking and missing. I feel happier, less negative. I will always be a negative person but at least I'm positive about it. But this is something I'm starting to get the hang of. At least it feels like I am. I'm trying to keep "I can't do that" out of my mind and mouth in the class. It's helping a lot. I never knew this could be something I'd love so much. I'm eager to try other styles of dance and take more classes. Who knew that a passion could form for something that I "knew" I couldn't do? I just needed to give it a chance. It's something I'd highly recommend.

One week down...

Seven days ago I was on the road to where I am. Driving 27 hours nearly straight through, I was determined to reach my new life, my new adventure, my new address. My soon to be landlord called me impulsive, reflecting on the lack of time I had given on finding my new home before calling it such. Regardless of his awe, the lease was signed that afternoon and I slept in my bed that night. By the next day the truck was unpacked. Our new life had begun. Previous worlds still haunt my dreams. Some I cling to foundly, hoping to keep good memories of good friends intact. Others are non-bloody nightmares reminding me of the reasons we left, the lack of life we were living. Seven days of unpacking, filling up new shelves, new closets. Seven days of exploring new neighborhoods, new stores. Today I take the next step: a new job. I keep feeling I should run to the nearest office to work the phones, sit at a desk, type in words that mean nothing. But this is my new life, a new job is what I will find. I will have fun at this new job, I will enjoy the people I work with and work for. My customers will be happy, for my new workplace will not be somewhere they dread. It will have life, and they will be living, not fearing. I will be rewarded for hard work, without the backlash of jealous coworkers fearing their own positions at stake. It will be everything I didn't leave behind. This is my new life. One week in.


- Posted on the go, with help from stuff & bunnies.

Dreaming the impossible.

Is it possible to be in love with someone you've never met? Is it possible to hurt because you've never met? Is it possible to feel an empty place in your life because that person isn't there? He's in my dreams and fantasies. Hes there on the edge of my existence in the place where I go when I die every night. He's a real person. I've seen his image, I've heard his voice. Hell, I've even met his band and given his best friend/roommate a sucker. I was so close to crossing into his existence and yet, still heart-breakingly far away.
My feelings make me afraid. I'm afraid I'm crazy. I'm afraid of not feeling this way about anyone that exists in my world. I'm afraid I'll always compare guys to him. He's my ideal. Is that even possible? Do I love him because I know he's an impossible dream? Does that make it safe? Is this a coping mechanism of my mind? How is it even possible? How can he be so beautiful?
It hurts to wake up because I miss out on the chance of him being there. I curse my alarm for tearing me away from him. It's the only chance I'll get. How is this possible? How do I make it stop? I don't want it to stop.
I'm lost...

The view from here

The new world has a sunny outlook. Our windows are graced with swaying palm trees and beach bungalows. Feelings of warmth tickle through my skin as pink glossy lips give way to relentless grins. The calendar may tell of autumn, but the air is singing summer...summer that will not end for a simple page in time.

Clouds

Hiding under the covers, I'm wide awake. Technically, it's morning, though the sun has yet to peak it's golden image over the misty fields of my current horizon. When morning turns bright, I begin the next leg of this year's adventure. Though only half the distance as I traveled 4 months ago, this journey feels like a truly new beginning. This summer has been sureal in it's seclusion from the normal. Now to learn what the world brings us after a stolen season of childhood. I can't hide from morning any longer, the sun is about to rise.


.

The Story of Me and You.

I wrote this a few weeks ago. It was liberating.

The story of me and you.

I’m tired of the story of you and me.
I’m sick of you being connected to me.
I’m done always running back to you.
I’m over you coming back to me.
It didn’t work out,
Lets just both move on.
I’m gonna go my way.
You go your own.
I’ll keep doing my thing.
You do whatever it is that you do.
I don’t care about your birthday,
You’re not obligated on mine.
I won’t be drunk texting you anymore.
Please don’t drunk text me either.
I’m tired of the story of you and me.
You broke up with me,
I’m over you.
You cheated, we’re done.
End of story, move on.
I’m tired of the story of you and me.
I’m sick of “us” and tired of “we”.
It’s over, it’s the end.
No more “special friends.”
I won’t come to you with my problems.
Please don’t bring me yours.
I thought you made me happy
But I realize I was always sad.
I’m finally completely done with you
And I feel nothing else but glad.
I’m sick of the story of you and me.
I kept bouncing back to you,
As you bounced back to me.
The love wasn’t there,
But the physicality was.
No more, I’m done.
Times change, I need a different one.
I’m tired of the story of me and you.
It didn’t work out.
We’re done.
We’re through.
You be you.
Let me be me.
I’m free.

Old ramblings from my head.

This is something I wrote a while ago but it still holds true. Just one of my random rambling tangents I go off on sometimes. Sometimes, you just gotta get things off your chest.

Sometimes, the me in my head is a lot different from the me on the outside. I envision myself in a certain way but then I look in the mirror and my confidence is shattered. My hair is different, I weigh a lot more, I’m not as talented, and I’m not as much of a badass. My confidence is lacking. My complexion is terrible, and I have cellulite. I want to fix all of those things but my will power is none existent. In my head, I’m always strong and know exactly what to say. I’m more sarcastic and witty. I’m indifferent. On the outside, my emotions get the best of me and I overreact. I try to bottle up my anger and stay calm like in my head, but it ends up causing an emotional explosion. I want to be that stylish, confident, sexy, witty girl that lives inside my head. I want to look into the mirror and see that girl reflected back. I’m standing in my own way. I’m my own saboteur. I get a leg up and then throw myself off the ladder and have to start all over again. I’m sick of it. I’m ready to be the girl in my head. I’m ready to not be trapped inside of myself. It’s time for me to grab a hammer and bust my way out of my self made cage. I built up walls to protect myself from other people and I ended up trapping myself inside my own head. What a stupid girl I’ve been. I’ve gotta bust out. Time to break loose. Stop being lazy! Do something about my life instead of just sitting on my ass complaining about it. Take the initiative. Be brave. Do what I want to do, uninhibited. No more holding myself back. See it, want it, take it, have it, be it. Be like Nike, just do it!

overwhelmed

A week ago I had three months to prepare. Now, I have a few days. There's not that much to do, but it feels as though I don't have any idea where to start. To find a place to live is intimidating enough but then to not be able to see it before we call it home is overwhelming. To not have a job or sufficient income before calling a new city home is overwhelming. Having no friends or even acquaintances jumping into a new community is overwhelming. But not really. Laying it out like that, it seems simple. Find a place, get a job, make friends. It's easy. It's been done before. It was done before the interwebs gave us all these wonderful resources (I really can't imagine living in that world). My parents looked through the yellow pages under "Apartments" for their first place. Unthinkable. I have realtor.com. And looking for a new job is easier than ever with so many businesses listing openings on their own websites. All that's left is meeting new people, and though you could say it's easy to do online, it's also kinda creepy so we'll just have to leave that to the old fashion way and do it in person. Though, I am able to find nearby hockey rinks and music venues to aide in the chances of meeting people that I have stuff in common with. So, it turns out this awkward feeling in my stomach isn't being overwhelmed: it's being excited. I just misunderstood the butterflies.

blowing bubbles

A simple act, easily mastered by a 6 year old in pigtails. Yet, often the demise of the same girl as she turns 18 and attempts to be taken seriously. A contradiction as the girl ages and turns stone cold, all the while inflating pink, sweet, sticky balloons. Eventually turning to a nostalgic attempt to cling to her youth as the substance clings to her shriveled lips. The bubble doesn't change, but the cheeks filling it with air use the bubble as a distraction, a memory, a toy. Till it pops...and gets stuck in her hair.

Insomnia

As the date stamp says, I wrote this before we started this wonderful blog.

Adventure. It's what my life is right now. In the middle of making a new life in a new place and a new version of my beloved husband. But adventure takes time to become excitement, and currently adventure is boring. I am on pause...waiting for the next leg of this adventure to begin, or rather, continue. Insomnia is apparently part of adventure, and it increases slowly to overtake the night in whole. The internal clock is anxious to reset it's alarm, when my body and mind require the proper amount of rest to recover from the day's excursions. Until it resets, it shall continue to buzz quietly in the shadows ever so slightly...like the content purr of a well kept house cat. It is boring, this lul in my adventure. It is also lonely, though not in the sad sense. Lonely in that I am alone for this leg. Surrounded by family, but not with my fellow traveler and so I am alone. Friends seem pointless to attempt, as though they would come with an expiration date. They would do little to quell my feeling of solitude, as they will not join me either. I am left to plan my next move, and I plan it well. For it is all I do these late nights and earlier mornings. I plan.