sixteen days

It's been a long while since I've written anything here, without much good reason. Writing is usually a stress reliever for me and, boy, how I have been stressed.

Half of this year, a good chunk of my 28, has been absorbed with my father's sickness. We are coming to a close on the radiation journey. He seems to be doing well; our phone conversations are less strained, his speaking is much clearer than previous efforts.

Sixteen days left until my birthday. I think. My math skills have been kind of lackluster lately. Maybe I need to get back to doing hundreds of Kumon problems every week! There are lots of things I need to get my brain back on track, out of cancer survival mode, doing what I was trying to before things fell apart.

I will be 29. Starting then, I have 30 things I want to accomplish before my 30th birthday. I'm actually going to be writing a completely separate, hilariously gut-busting blog about it, detailing my own rules for the 30 things I'll be doing. Ok, the only gut I'm really trying to bust is my own--definitely one of my goals.

After the Valley is back into full on production. There are some exciting developments that have taken place in the past week alone that I cannot detail yet. Just be warned, my film will be awesome.

Graduation also comes this December.

I'm trying to take a break from things that distract, people that hurt, and thoughts that destroy. It's hard, but I'm almost to the finish line and when I get there, it will be fantastic.

exhaustion

Silence on this blog is a side-effect of many things, including but not limited to dropping classes, visiting family members, and, of course, a very sick Dad with a very bad stage of cancer.

Of course, I am allowed to cry and feel miserable but it gets me nowhere. The Lexapro that massages my brain into some sort of satiated normalcy has kept me sane, along with this crazy wonderful man known as my husband. Other than that, I'm pretty much falling apart.

This is the basis for another blog I'm going to be working on here shortly. But if you are in need of this as much as I am, just remember:

It's okay to be mad.

It's okay to be upset.

It's okay to feel defeated.

But it's not okay to give up.

You got this, I got this, we got this. We're going to survive together.

hairy premonition

Sometimes I think God has a sense of humor and/or is making me learn a lesson about comparisons. This is nothing new. Now, before I continue, please don't comment or tweet or email that 1. God doesn't test people or 2. God doesn't test you about stupid things such as _____.

I get it.

Over the years, it feels like my pity or sympathy is an activator for some awful thing to happen to myself. When I was about nine or so, my mom, brother and I were at Tom Thumb grocery shopping. It was a pretty average shopping trip, though I probably begged to be taken in to the fake Blockbuster-type rental store in the front with overpriced VHS tapes and knock off Cowboys jerseys. Mom was standing dutifully with her checkbook and pen, while I was hanging on the side of the lane, admiring the skill and precision which the bagger could fit so much crap into one small plastic bag.

Then, I saw her.

I tried not to stare because I know there was a good chance Mom would lecture me on not being rude or worse--not take me to the fake Blockbuster. As I clung to the check-writing counter, my mouth on my folded hands, I saw a bearded lady.

Probably 16 or 17, this young woman had patchy wafts of hair swooped across her neck and cheeks. Looking back, she resembled someone who could have been part of my mom's side of the family. Or even future me.

As we walked away, saying our 'thank-you' and 'see you soon's, I remember looking at that girl and thinking, "God, I hope I'm never like that."

This is where God comes in a smacks me with something. Again, metaphorically or whatever.

Mom always told me that you have control over your future. Your believing, whether negative or positive, can change your life. She also told me about putting out good "vibes" to get people to like you, which I still have yet to master, but that is a discussion for later. I wonder if I have created self-fulfilling prophecies for myself, such as this poor-bearded girl.

Did, or does, she have the same disease that makes my face rough and scratchy every morning? The same disease that makes her have belly pains for no reason, anxiety, depression, weight gain, and the inability to naturally conceive children? Perhaps I did not invite the self-fulfilling prophecy in but became aware of the similarities between us and let it frighten me. The bulbous nose that sat on her face, thinner lips, wire-rimmed glasses, and brown poofy hair might as well have been a mirror into the hell I knew as puberty.

Or just being a teenager.

This curse or blessing has had a strange impact on me over the years. I used to have premonitions that would come true, but always of stupid things like seeing a cool girl's pair of Adidas slip-ons at Girl Scout camp. Three weeks later? Same shoes, same girl, same camp. Woah. I even had a voice, ever so clear, tell me one day I might as well give up my life because I will have to take care of my parents. That voice has haunted me more than the ones that allude to failed potential.

Lately, my thoughts have been more controlled and positive. Thanks to the invigorating conference I attended a few weeks ago, many things in my life have begun to turn around and my beliefs along with it. Perhaps God does still exist and maybe his promises are true. Maybe I'm not so much of a failure. Today, though, the bad thoughts came back and when they do, I think of the girl at Tom Thumb and if she triggered this self-aware doubt spiral otherwise known as my life.

Maybe I will never know if my thoughts do control my circumstances. The skeptics, of which many are my friends, will assure me of my superstition. Others will assert that I can change my life if I want, that my attitude and mindset must change for me to succeed.

I am starting to rebuild those brain pathways with good things, I think. Let's hope I can rebuild the ones that lead to the hair follicles on my chin.

woah.

Though Chicago was incredible, I'm glad to be home in Dallas. I'm still digesting all the incredible things I learned at Storyline. Man, I wish my husband had been able to come with me since this was the last conference (!) but I think I've relayed stuff to him the best I can.

Which I will do here, on my blog, soon. 

The processing part is still happening. It will be for awhile, I think.

I mainly wanted to write tonight because I could not believe how many readers I had last week. Do you want to guess how many visitors checked me out on Wednesday of last week?

250.

YEP. That's a pretty big number, right?! I haven't had readers in those numbers since, uh, well, never. Nope, never. That's definitely encouraging and you will be seeing plenty more out of me in the days/weeks to come.

Thanks, you guys. It means the world to me!

-c

Chicago: Day 1.5

Hi. I'm not sure how to start this entry because of the crappy 24 hours I've had. Well, not 24 hour but more like since 5 PM yesterday after I found my flight to be delayed. From there, it was finding the car rental place, being coaxed into spending way more money than necessary I'm sure on insurances and pre-paid gasoline. Guided by my trusty Google maps app, down through the seedy and actually quite "country" parts of Illinois towards my destination. I was told by a nice Sikh convenience store owner to "take care of myself".

I wish I could have had his foresight.

So far the best part of this trip has been collecting all the street passes on my 2DS. What a grown up thing to say, I'm sure. The seedy hotel with people screaming, a bed-bug infested room (I have bites now but could just tell last night. I was so tired I couldn't do a thing about it) was the last straw. This morning I swore on my Bible that I lost my keys somewhere mid-flight only to find Sleepy Christine had safely tucked them away in her bag, in a small little compartment.

Traveling and I are not close friends; we meet once and again, in hopes of kindling something beautiful and inspiring. Most of the time that's the case. Perhaps its the state of mind I've been finding myself in as of late that is causing such a rough go of things.

I do know that I am running myself into the ground, which is partially the cause, and that this conference will help me sort out that whole thing. I don't know what to give up. Hopefully God will make that abundantly clear because I am not completely focused on this trip, for obvious reasons. Upon reading the entry packet for the conference, I am amazed at the beauty this experience offers and am doing my best to focus on such.

Tonight there is a movie showing of Risen. Its about an account of Jesus' early years from the perspective of a dude who was not a Christian. It sounds good but the best part is Tom Felton is in it. I'm all about seeing a new Draco Malfoy picture. And I'm sure he would hate to hear me say that.

The instructions in our beautiful binder that was given to us were clear: this is a spiritual journey and it is best to treat it as such.  I'm going to try to focus on the positives, like my husband also suggested this morning.

I am a live.

I am here.

We actually have money so I won't just be stranded here.

I'm in a new place.

I'm doing something for me.

That doesn't happen that much anymore, really.

God is already stirring something great in my heart and has been for the past few weeks. I have more motivation to complete the tasks I have been too scared of for a while. I'm revisiting my religion and spirituality because I don't want it to be what my parents' have--I want it to be greater.

Here's to a great Storyline conference. I'm looking forward to starting the sessions today.Will write again upon inspiration/break time.

oversaturation.

Justin sent me a link on Facebook last night, but he prefaced it by saying it might make me super excited. What could it be? The WNBA team moving to Dallas is a reality? He got a new job? We won the lottery? I had no idea what this exciting news would be.

I opened the blinking message box; my heart sank. New super arcade and restaurant opening up in Richardson. You. Are. Kidding.

Part of me is excited, but that is the most miniscule part of my being. The majority of me is so so angry. That had been a dream of mine for almost a year now, and I've been silently doing research, planning menus, making lists of beer and alcohol to serve.

What the hell?

So, with this monstrosity opening up in practically my own back yard, the dream I had for my own arcade mean nothing. There's not a place I think it would succeed, except maybe Denton or another college town. My heart hurts over something that I really wanted to pursue but was too scared. First the building in downtown Carrollton, now this? 

This has sent me in a tailspin since last night about what I want to do with my life. Why bother with anything? Everything has already been done and there's nothing new under the sun. Oversaturation, especially in a market like this, will not really let any one person succeed, true, but it will make it harder for others to follow.

What's next? I guess this is the point where I shove all those stupid business ideas and plans in to the toilet and move on. To what, though, I don't know.

the sea of blogs

I've been thinking about my future as a writer a lot lately. The well of inspiration is fleeting lately, where ideas that I have appear and then disappear only to be found on other websites or blogs. Justin found a job for me on one of my favorite film blogs for a writing position, requiring 3-5 (!!) articles a day, 200 words in length. Holy. Cow.

The writing market seems so intense and intimidating to me. Like with all things, I've thought that maybe I should invest in my own blog. Not necessarily like this one but more focused on fashion or film or religion. Or all of it?

This blog is great but I don't really want to monetize my own personal problems. I mean, maybe, but that's just really weird.