Can't stop watching Desperate Housewives and thinking of hairy armpits and how it would be such a controversy to them. Hello what is my problem where is my mind, why is my brain thinking about hairy armpits.

Hello, world.

Still hanging in there. Feeling like things are slowly GRINDING into place. Positivity hasn't fallen into my lap since high school, but that's not to say things aren't still grinding along to where they should be.

In the best news: I signed up for Ruby Tuesday's coupons and I've gotten two B1g1 coups so far boobooboobooyeah!

These past two years have been the worst two years of my life.

I didn't think anything could top 2010 and then 2011 happened. Too much has been lost, and I feel like my identity went with it and possibly my relationships are disappearing too.

I'm afraid of 2012, instead of optimistic. 2012 is only months away and things haven't turn around yet. I don't want to have three of the worst years of my life and counting.

Josh went away last weekend and it ended up being a very positive experience for me to spend some time with myself. I’ve been struggling with relying on myself as a source of happiness since college, but this past week I felt like I was starting to get some of my self worth back.

It’s a pretty amazing feeling. I’m parts excited/energized/scared that it’s a fluke, but it’s a good start to a change that needs to happen. I have a bad habit of distracting myself from my unhappiness, rather than looking to the source (me) and trying to fix it. A new job and my own apartment will be awesome, but can’t be relied on to fix my generally negative attitude.

It’s also very sad that I didn’t realize all of those positive things were missing from my life until so recently.

So there’s that.

MISERABLE

JUST LIKE EVERYBODY FUCKING ELSE

Things like murder/rape/abuse/ableism are not and WILL NEVER be funny.

CUT THE FUCKING SHIT PEOPLE.

I will never, ever agree with the comedic school of thought. It is a COMPLETE COP OUT to hide behind 'FUNNY.'

Never before has my body experienced a physical reaction to the shock and rage I felt when seeing someone #MURDER as a joke on my Facebook. I responded and then took it down because it isn't even worth my emotional well being and I shouldn't have to tell people that I lost someone recently to MURDER because it shouldn't have been there in the first place.

I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my face. My fingers went completely numb and tingly. Give me a toilet to barf in.

I'm quickly becoming someone who cuts people out of their lives because I refuse to deal with the shit and you can't teach people who refuse to be educated.

Taking a hard stance from this day forth.

Shitty nights lead to shitty mornings and work is going to be shit today because it's Sunday

Guilt-free for five days. Tomorrow is day 6! One day at a time. Mostly I am just hungry and I miss hot pockets.

Sometimes, usually at punk shows when you should be there, I find myself following this bizarre train of thought where I want everyone in the room to know what it feels like to lose someone by an act of violence. Then I realize what that actually means and I stop wanting it.

Then I think of things from the perspective of anyone remotely involved like : "My daughter was only 21 and her boyfriend got murdered"

Sometimes the thoughts come from the future: "We were there when it happened."/"My parents were there when he was shot."

I still haven't admitted that it's real, even though I cry about it a lot. I don't want to move on from it. Because with the flow of time a new generation, one that has nothing to do with you, will hear your story but never fully 'appreciate' the fucking grief of your passing or the greatness of the way you chose to live. The usual way of things.

You were in complete control of your life, the only consolation that you did not get to choose your death.

My thoughts run in circles, my brain is on lockdown. Wishing that things were different makes everything worse.

We're sad and we miss you

You want so badly to blame the bird for flying into your windshield and killing itself

But really it isn't the bird's fault that cars exist and you killed it with one.

Just got hit so hard with the fact that if they find a killer, it means everything is real. I think they found the killer.

It stole the breath from my throat

Come back come back come back come back come back

It comes from nowhere, and today I realized that I am completely refusing to believe that any of it is real. I caught myself almost facing it and then thinking 'nope, not today.'

Crying is infectious, even through the internet

I dreamed about you last night for the first time since it happened. In my dream Josh and Kyle and I travelled back in time and we were at your old house, not the one on Bassett. You were laying on the couch and your hair was less red than it should have been and I hugged you and kissed you hard on the cheek, thinking that it wasn't a proper good bye, and you weren't mad at me anymore.

Dare I say,

it's going our way?

The book was so graphic in detail that I gagged over my meal

I couldn't figure out why it was so upsetting as it was fiction, and about a race of peoples who have never existed and are only a figment of an imagination not my own

I had a good week in there where I slept normally. Maybe just noticing this has knocked me back from that and back into lying with my eyes wide and waking up before 7.

Lately, the word 'haunted' pops into my thoughts when I'm waiting for sleep to take me. Not by ghosts, not that, but also not by the living. And also by myself, I can't seem to leave myself alone

I wish it was okay to cry about this stuff at work and I wish the soccer moms would leave me alone and I hate moms anyway and that's why I never want to be one.

NO ONE WILL STOP CARING ABOUT YOU, I PROMISE.

Planted on the floor, I stare at the ceiling which seems especially far away.

Two feet makes a bigger difference than expected

I know if I think about it too hard, the void will make me scream out loud

And suddenly I am finding pens everywhere I look. Now, when I have no desire (no need) to write anything down

I am so tired of being so tired. And where are all of my working pens? Where is my phone?

6:59AM

I couldn't sleep and now I am awake. I woke up feeling confused and needing to pee. Then I woke up and I can tell already that today will be spent crying.

For once, I want a free pass to sleep through the whole day. Come on brain, let me have it. Fuck EVERYTHING and fuck having no control over what Life gives and takes from you. Fuck Life. So sad and so angry and when the fuck does it ease up a little bit?

I punish myself everyday, looking through anything that is related to you in some way. The pictures of you as a kid are the worst. You were fat, which makes me chuckle, since you grew up to be so skinny and noodly.

No little tubster knows he will grow up to get murdered.

Everything is bullshit.

Tomorrow marks the first month of you being gone. Sometimes I can't understand why I cry about it so much. I usually wake up thinking about it, and go to sleep thinking about it.

Anytime I feel unsafe, I think about it. 'You never know you never know.'

I punish myself more and more when I think of how I waited in the car while Josh went in to say goodbye to the two of you in bed. I was tired and my feet were cold. You were both naked which was hilarious. I missed it. That was my last chance.

I punish myself now, over the petty 'fight' we got into over Tumblr. I punish myself for unfollowing you after you did it to me, which sounds incredibly dumb. I punish myself for never IMing you to make it all better because we were both wrong. I punish myself and I punish myself and I swear I was getting up the guts to be like 'Hey,' because I knew you were hurting.

And all of this didn't hit me at first and when it hit it didn't hit hard but now the impact is too much and it's only just starting and maybe you hated me when you died and I won't ever know for sure. And what a selfish thought.

Failures

In that we cannot make each other whole.

Not in that aspect

http://www.communityrecords.org/?page_id=3807

This article made me sob. The last time I sobbed was the weekend we found out. All of this sobbing has made me realizing that most of my tears are just 'regular' tears. They're sincere and packed with emotion, but they're nothing to the sobbing. It has a life of its own.

Sometimes I never want to talk about it and sometimes I could go on forever, and always I feel uncomfortable and weird about it. I'm afraid of time passing and of the emotions becoming dulled and 'regular.' I'm afraid of everything.

I'm some parts crying for my own loss, crying for the shock of it, and crying for Josh and Kyle and Parm and Andy and Emily and EVERYONE this has affected to any degree.

Today I found out that he was sitting next to someone when he was shot. In my head, I kept imagining him on that couch (a couch I've sat on) alone. Somehow it was worse for me that someone had to sit next to him while it happened. That made me sob. I sobbed because Andy was so afraid and he was thinking the same thing that Mitch was thinking probably, about trying to make the situation safe again so that no one got hurt. A simple, honest thing to want.

I sobbed because I was one of those people guilty of thinking 'It was a bad neighborhood.' Andy is right, it's just as bad as asking a rape victim if her shirt was low-cut. Victim blaming is not okay in this situation either. So that was something I learned.

I wish it was okay in our society to grind our teeth and pull our hair in public with grief. Or that we could wear a ribbon, or certain clothes which signified to others that we had experienced a great loss. So that they would know why we were maybe acting weird in that moment. I wonder how long I would wear my ribbon for. It feels like forever. I feel like life is pressuring me into moving on, so I can't even feel 'comfortable' in my grief. Everything is rushed and bad.

I'm paranoid like I was before, but in a different way because my fears are founded. You can never be too safe, but it's a fine line between 'safe' and 'not living.' At dinner, my dad started to reprimand me about being in New Haven last weekend. I didn't want to talk about it, not then and not ever. I told him that to stop living is the opposite of what I should be doing. I was very 'me' about it, dinner got quiet and I felt bad. It isn't New Havens fault that Mitchell got stolen from us.

So, please please read the blog article that attaches to that link up at the top there. If not to read about Mitchell, or just pure nosiness, than at least because the writing is phenomenal and maybe you will learn something from it.

Be safe.

Weepy.

So I'm not on Facebook anymore for a while because I got myself in trouble using the internet...andddd it seems that no matter how much you try to ignore a problem, it has a way of haunting you via your Facebook.

So yeah, that's over for a bit. Plus, I will be applying to some career jobs and if they tried searching my Facebook before the first thing they would see was ~MIDDLE FINGER TATTOOS.

Anyway, hopefully in a week I can stop feeling anxious about internet stuff, but my Facebook will be deactivated for longer than that.

I miss Josh.

Tonight is just so bad.

I saw it on Tumblr, and any time I feel something close to normal the words "shot" "killed" run through through and through my head until I could vomit and so my brain shuts it all off again for a little while.

So it's been a week since it happened and 6 days since we found out. I woke up in a good mood, but I'm going back to sleep feeling like it's day 1 again.

When

Will I stop looking for you on IM

or searching for your face in a sea of your friends

"On Thursday March 24th my best friend and room mate Mitch Dubey was shot in front of me in our own home in a completely unprovoked incident, he was rushed to the hospital but died shortly after. 2 Years prior we threw a benefit show for his family after his father had a tragic snowboarding accident and became paralyzed from the neck down. Needless to say the family could use a lot of help in this extremely difficult time. We arethrowing a benefit show to raise the funds necessary for a proper funeral as well as honor the amazing life of Mitch Dubey. He was a great friend and an incredible person that touched the lives of everyone that he met. I find it difficult to put into words just how much mitch meant to me, I have known him for over 7 years, the last three of which were spent living with him in new haven. The thought of playing a show without him there still has me in tears but i know that this is the most fitting send off that we could possibly provide. We need to let mitch live on in all of us by honoring his memory and staying positive. We have assembled some of mitch's favorite bands for a night of music that should be nothing short of amazing, please help spread the word and lets do our best to help out the dubey family as much as possible. We love all you guys and it's horrible that it takes something like this for us to realize just how incredibly strong the people that make up the CT music scene are. Stay Radical. - Andy"

I am thinking thoughts I NEVER in a trillion years thought I would and they are positive and hopeful which blows my mind.

I won't get too excited or reveal my plans on here, if you are a close friend you are privy to this information.

ghghghkdk oh man

SPRRRRRINGGGGGGGGGGG

We'll see what happens after a year of doula work. Maybe I will go into nursing and OB/GYN work. Maybe I will become an abortion provider.

My birthday houseplant from Josh is THRIVING. I usually kill plants, but I left the house for 3 days and now it’s all perky and budding everywhere wheeeemmmyayayyaa:33333 *Go figure but WHATEVER, I will do whatever it takes to make this plant not die and stuff~

I am...

...helpless to fix the bigger picture, and it's so fucking broken. Society's level of fuckery has boxed me into a life full of extremes.... Don't trust any man you don't know. Don't trust any police officer. Every stranger is bad. There is nothing you can do. Sick of it all.

Society has tricked itself into a false sense of complacency, but it isn't our fault because there's always someone above us who wears the face of Truth but is dishonest. By the time we realize it, there are too few of us, and too much time has passed, and it takes three times as long (at least) to unlearn the falsehoods.

Day4

Call call call call and don't do it while I'm at work, or if I'm at work leave a detailed voicemail.

These two, plus Paul (duh), are the people I have seen most after graduation. Yesterday Josh, Megan, and TADDEO and I went to a show at the Art Space in Bethlehem. It was ear-ringing loud and kind of weird but having Taddeo there was the best surprise~

With the change of season, my moods have been impressively ~unpredictable~

I seriously need to get in touch with my therapist.

It's been so bad that I am considering medication to stabilize my moods. To clarify: it isn't bad in the way that I would feel the need to bring harm to myself, but bad in the way that it has the capacity to affect important relationships in my life as well as my work performance.

The person I've been for the past few days is not the same person I was like 3 weeks ago and it is freaking me the fuck out.

Also, at work yesterday I walked into something so hard that it cut open my skin. The new cut is an exact mirror of an old 'cut' that was just beginning to shrink. Go fucking figure, forever scarred.

**WARNING TMI**

Why the hell is my period always faking me out...

!??!??!?

I h8chu d00d!

I am so fucking lucky to have my partner as my partner.

My upcoming weeks: Josh says we can either go to CT for the night on Friday or go to NYC on my birthday for a rally supporting Planned Parenthood. I say we are going to both, so that I have two really exciting things to look forward to!

Also, CT is a must because I need to go to Fuel and get a bagel with vegan cream cheese +cucumber+tomato ~~~~

It's a good day for a walk in CANVAS SHOES and maybe even reading outside

'I'm not going to flake out on you' is all I need to hear for a while.

This Valentine's Day was a success because 50% of it already happened, now I just need to finish up my the mini-gifts coming from my end.

'Body positive' is such a foreign concept, at least in the way that is real

http://syoung2.livejournal.com/

Just one more forum to post gratuitous pictures of lil' old me

I think that Orion is probably considered 'hot' by cat standards.

I have no plans, and therefore, no future, and also, no home

Yesterday I

found my copy of The New Testament and put it out with the trash

I am going to post on here more because no one else updates their blogs and at least this way I can go back and read my own posts.

Today was super productive ALREADY because I painted, walked for 30 minutes, AND downsized/used my Netflix account

I wish coffee didn't taste like coffee juice once it gets cold

Also, I just called to schedule a ~therapy session~ but the office is fucking CLOSED. Come on ya'll, how are the crazies supposed to get the help they need??
*That was insensitive of me.*

But seriously.

Anyway, I guess this leads me to the thought that I shouldn't call people 'crazies' just because I am one.
Also, I wish the people around me would stop making jokes about slitting wrists and cutting themselves because it makes me really uncomfortable/makes me want to puke/makes me want to cry when I think about my parents/dredges up unpleasant memories.

PLANNED PARENTHOOD is also closed.

Alright well, see you guys l8r

Headaches make me tired and UGLY

Painting again while under the influence of a book revolving around Kiki Smith is AMAZING. I feel like new life has been breathed into my entire existence.
Which, thank fucking Whoever because I needed it. I also just emailed a professor about good books on Jenny Saville.
I love these gritty women the most.

In other news, going to the lady-doctor AGAIN because nature hates me since I am a woman.

This post is stupid but I needed something to do.

Oh right and WE ARE GOING TO TEXAS.
~CHAOS IN TEJAS 2011~~~~~~~~~~

This blog makes me laugh sometimes because it can be so ridiculous.

My eyeballs are throbbing

Sometimes things are so fucking fucked.

My room is always a wreck and I'm not even the type of person who feels okay with living in a room that looks this way.
My life feels like it's at a fucking dead end, or else that there are too many options of where to go next and so either way I just sit. I don't want to hear what anyone has to say because they never say what I want to hear and I can't help myself because I don't know what I want to hear.
What I know: I am tired, I am melancholy, I am confused, I am impatient to not feel these things.

I feel loyal to the job I have and to the people I work with, but what if this job is what's stopping me from doing anything beneficial for myself?
I have nowhere to go and no one to go with even if I had the means to leave.
So sometimes I ask myself what would be the point in leaving

I think I also feel pissed off.

I look like a piece of shit when I cry.