tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80638911203915626202024-02-20T09:32:00.105-08:00Naomi: Not Quite ThereNaomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-64295329995359416832009-12-09T22:58:00.000-08:002009-12-09T22:59:43.182-08:00Mixed signs ahead.<h5 style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size:100%;">I try my hardest not to let my insecurities shine through, but when you like a guy and suddenly his behavior does a total one-eighty, I have no idea what to think. It’s always easiest to say “is it me?”, even when you know it isn’t. I’m so pissed because I really let myself like him. As much as I want to be this strong, “independent” woman, I’m still a big pile of vulnerable goo.</span></h5> <p><span style="font-size:100%;">Blah.</span></p>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-24822270971675940822009-09-28T22:25:00.000-07:002009-09-28T22:46:29.070-07:00Craft Corner - table for one.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I've fallen in love with my glue gun. It's true. That beautiful, simple device has both burned and healed me more times that I care to recount. In light of a recent "breakup", I've been bitten by the retail therapy bug, but I've been fighting off the urge to indulge. We're in a recession, after all (hehe). </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I really, REALLY wish I knew how to sew. Deconstruction and reconstruction of clothing has been an interest of mine for such a long time, but without a sewing machine it's extremely time consuming, labor intensive, and demands a lot of undivided attention. "If only I had the time and energy to spare" - I find that I've said that so often over the last few years. Lately, life has shown me that we need to make time for the little things that make us happy. It's difficult, but I'm truly pushing for the first time in what feels like ages. Finally pushing for one small thing that I want. I hoping beyond hope that this is the beginning of a pattern for me.</span><br /></span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-67236897997617709372009-06-30T14:14:00.000-07:002009-06-30T14:18:57.529-07:00Grit and Grime<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Summer somehow brings on thoughts of change and improvement. Maybe it's the fact that I'm out of school and have significant amounts of free time (when I'm not slaving away in retail hell), but the idea of sitting idle annoys me to no end.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">In this round, change is manifesting itself in the massive eradication of household goods. That's right. Decades worth of things representing a life we've been building are being boxed up and sent into storage. It's strange to see it go. I've gotten so used to seeing the weird knick-knacks on the shelf in the dining room, though I can't remember when or why we got them. And that hot dog toaster that's been collecting dust in the cabinet in the kitchen. The things that have been there just because they </span><em style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">can</em><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> be. Yeah. Shipped out to be combed through at a later date. Seeing all this space open up reminds me of days when we had first moved into the house. Laying on the floor in the middle of my room on the plush pink carpet, daydreaming of what furniture and I could put in there. Now if only we could do something about that pesky, too-small-for-my-fabulousness closet...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">On the fangirl side of life, Twilight fandom is kicking up again. Well, not that it's ever really calmed down, but I'm getting more anxious to see New Moon. I pretty much got all my friends at work into the series (Movies, that is. For some reason these chicks don't want to give the books a chance! So lazy...) and even though we're all planning on jumping the company ship, we still want to go see it as a group. I didn't go to the Twilight midnight premier, but if I have a larger group to go with this time I might brave the hormonally charged adolescent crowds at snag some seats.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Now that AMA (</span><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" _fcksavedurl="http://www.animemidatlantic.com/" href="http://www.animemidatlantic.com/">www.animemidatlantic.com/</a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">) is over, I'm excited about attending Nekocon. I'm pretty much Nerdzilla at work, but I can't help it. When convention season comes around I let my quirky tendencies and flightful fancies run amuck and just "nerd out" for the weekend. It's a neat little vacation from the everyday tedium that's slowly, but surely, killing us all. Lighten up! Live. Laugh. Love. And give/get more free hugs!<br /><br />(After a long absence, I'm resolved to try to find my way back to journaling/blogging. I've really forgotten its therapeutic benefits.)<br /></span></span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-10610981169926469682008-12-08T01:01:00.000-08:002008-12-08T01:03:41.480-08:00Tis the season.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Perhaps it is only in a state of delirium that I am able to write, but I am grateful nonetheless. If I can seize just a moment to try to sort out my deranged thoughts and hyper-sensitive feelings (which, at this point, are borderline paradoxical), I'll take it. I haven't been faced with this type of all-encompassing obstacle in a long time. I'm sitting here in the middle of my dark living room watching this blinking beacon of contemporary Christmas joy, and I'm just...apathetic. I guess it has to do with several factors that have been weighing on me for quite some time now.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">1. Working in retail during the holiday season tends to suck all the joy out of it. DOA, as it were.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">2. My "best friend" and I aren't speaking. Haven't spoken in more than a month, really. Well, unless you count that one quick "hello" in passing at work.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">3. I've become a modernistic hermit, taking joy in finding books (over and over), indulging in my inner audiophile, and crafting my little heart out.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">My social life has become noticeably empty, yet it surprises me to see that it doesn't bother me as much as it should. These days I actually LIKE keeping to myself. When I go out I can still carry on perfectly friendly conversations and small-talk it up like a champ, but I don't feel like making the effort to let anyone in at the moment. I have my Twilight Saga, my Hana <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yori</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Dango</span>, and my Bar Grooves compilation. It'll do...for now.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">In my new role as social pariah I've come to learn new things about myself. I actually do like doing my nails (contrary to prior belief). I have a lot of unnecessary excess in my life and in my living space. It wasn't two months ago that I owned over 40 pairs of shoes (I know, it's shameful). I've <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">whittled</span> the collection down to about 15 pairs (sans flip flops, as those don't count as actual shoes). My once crammed closet has been processed and refined into a fairly sophisticated, cute wardrobe. Most pieces that I can wear all year long (give or take a few layers). </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">My artistic ideals have developed a bit more. I'm interested in broadening my horizons. Knitting, glass-blowing, metal-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">smithing</span>, woodwork and carpentry. I want to try and tackle all of it. Ambitious? Absurd? Maybe. But the idea of creating and actualizing the things of dreams moves me in way I can't possibly begin to explain. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Though I'm at a stage in my life that is supposed to be fun-filled and perpetually amped, I'm just not. I don't need the flash and flare of young night life. A hot cup of green tea and honey, a good book, and something easy on the ears. These are a few of my favorite things.</span><br /><br /></span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-35351392010875672402008-10-20T09:33:00.000-07:002008-10-20T09:39:25.589-07:00Just keep swimmin'.<p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Honestly, this must be a personal record for me.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I don't think I've ever been through so many ups and down in a single month. October kicked off to a promising start. The temperatures were cooling down, there was a certain crispness in the air - it finally felt like fall. Somewhere in that first week things suddenly got derailed.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">My best friend's father lost a three year battle with lung cancer. I knew she would be deeply affected by the loss, but I had no idea just how much she would change. She's turned me into her punching bag, and at first I stood there and tried to weather her torrential mood swings with her, but she's taken it too far. We work at the same store, but rarely are we scheduled for the same shift. There was one such occasion when he happened to work together, and I delighted in the theory of it all. Me + best friend (working together...same shift) = extremely fun times.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Oh, how wrong I was.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">She dogged the hell out of me. At work. In front of our colleagues and regulars. In my humble opinion, she crossed a line. I understand mourning, but there is a fine line between being a good friend to you and being a fool. J, you clearly need time to yourself, and even if YOU don't need it, I do.<br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Rough waters ahead, so as I started crossing things off my many lists, hopefully I can sort out my thoughts and feelings. I miss writing, miss reading (i.e. playing voyeur to the lives of others), and I miss...<strong>me</strong>.</span></p>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-7344535846189577392008-09-25T06:24:00.000-07:002008-09-25T06:47:41.204-07:00The Sound of Creation<div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I am thrilled to find that I am still moved by art in unspeakable ways. Ways that make me feel alive, wide-eyed, and connected with all in the universe. It might sound cliché, but I suspect that there are many out there who would understand what I'm saying. I'm taking a modern art class (an indulgence on my part) and my professor set what she calls a "looking assignment". We have to go to a gallery, observe an original work of art, and write a reflective essay on the piece. In general, it sounds simple - cut and paste, black and white...and yet somehow it turned into so much more.</span></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br>Over time I've developed a general distaste for the masses. Modern society has bred such rude, self-centered, egotistical, greedy (need I go on?) people who trudge through life and drag other people along. We become so engrossed in our own lives that we often forget that there are other people that take our actions (or neglect) to heart. I am one of those people that can be so affected by the attitudes and "vibes" of others. As the daily ritual consumes my life, I forget that there are other people suffering the same commonplace woes. That there are vibrant, beautiful, spiritual, and emotionally aware beings that are dying to channel that energy into something, anything, to convey those feelings - that moment. </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="left"></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><br>I suppose for the first time in a long time I'm actually really grateful for homework, heh.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="left"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">When you walk into the Charles H. Taylor gallery on any given day, you're usually greeted by complete silence and the smell of oil and acrylic paints. As I began to walk around I noticed that this exhibit was called "Family of Man". Profound title? Yeah, but I often feel somewhat overwhelmed when I'm surrounded by large-scale works of art, so that wasn't surprising to me. What did surprise me was the incredibly powerful feeling of awe that washed over me. That there are artists out there with the vision to see what typically isn't be seen has always amazed me. It's hard to explain, but perhaps one day I'll find the words. Here's a few photos from the gallery. None of these pieces belong to me, nor did I create them.</span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="left"><br /><br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i392.photobucket.com/albums/pp3/npmeno/850A0158.jpg" border="0" /> <img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i392.photobucket.com/albums/pp3/npmeno/850A0153.jpg" border="0" /></span> <p align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">This particular piece is called Cyber Family. I love multimedia works, and this sculpture is a prime example of what makes modern man tick. Technology is both a blessing and a curse. It can brings us closer, or drive us further than ever before.</span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"><p align="left">I suppose I can only immerse myself in art, and in life, and hope that someday I'll have the vision (and maybe a sliver of talent) to make something that can move people the way I have been so moved.<br /><br /></p></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-31967496835160760052008-09-15T08:29:00.000-07:002008-09-25T10:59:11.903-07:00Something old, something new.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Time seems to have just flown by. It's both a blessing and a curse. I'm desperately trying to get back to the things that make me happy, truly happy, and that's proving to be more difficult than I originally thought. I want to get back to my art. There are times when I really miss my life of quiet contemplation and deep introspective reflection. I don't feel like myself at the moment. My entire life is currently consumed by lists, schedules, agendas, plans, commitments, responsibilities, etc. Modern life in the civilized world can be so mundane.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">But on that note, it's a catch-22. While I hate the fast-paced, high-stress commonality of society, I absolutely adore the music, the impossibly cute <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">techy</span>-gadgets, and the conquering of the unknown. The dichotomy often leaves me feeling confused and more than a bit lost. As humans we are never satisfied. We keep reaching for what should technically be out of reach. While this can be quite upsetting, there is little I can do to fight it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;">For once in the duration of my college career I feel like I'm finally taking a class that I can actually learn something from. Something that has meaning. Something of value. My religions class constantly gives me something to chew on. There is so much insight and perspective to be absorbed and appreciated. For instance, the cloistered lives of devout worshippers such as monks and nuns. Lives in which material possessions hold no value, and in which their relationship with God takes TOP priority. Even though many of these people had lives before they made their vows, they ultimately find happiness in seclusion. It's hard for me to explain, but something about that moves me in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">indescribable</span> ways. I have great admiration for people that find themselves and live peaceful and joyful lives. I can only hope that I may someday arrive at that place. </span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-60762386779039076632008-09-06T02:17:00.000-07:002008-09-25T11:07:26.377-07:00Seeing beyond the veil of reality.<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As of today I'm pretty sure that school is a wonderful distraction from my manic depression. From the time that I wake right up until the time that I'm about to pull up to my house, everything is peachy keen. Then I walk through that door and the adrenaline stops pumping. Those endorphins stop dancing through my bloodstream and "the crash" happens. That's when the darker emotions that lie just beneath the surface start to surge and the upheaval is enough to knock me flat on my ass. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Prime example, 5 September 2008 - 7pm EST:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I went to my wireless service provider to inquire about getting my phone replaced. I had previously visited, not even a week ago, and was asked "if I had time" to check my phone in for an hour. Truth be told, I really didn't. The first week of school is always hectic and I NEED to have my phone on me at all times. The manager assured me that when I was ready I would be able to bring my phone back in and have it checked. Now maybe I've gone batty, but that led me to believe that it wouldn't be a problem for me to get it replaced free of charge (I should probably mention that I had just gone through this process with my brother's phone not three weeks prior to this incident). </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I brought the phone back last night in hopes of having a replacement ordered for me tonight, but the </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >kind</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> representative told me that because of a small chip I have on the casing, near the hinge, that it would void out any service they could provide me in-store. Um, excuse me? You can imagine that this was somewhat of a shock for me to hear. As she began explaining the finer details of the insurance policy I had been paying for with my phone, my heart was sinking more and more. Not only was I experiencing that disappointment, but it was leading to much more profound emotions, like rage. I decided to walk out of the store with some sort of dignity and call customer service one I got into my car. As I do so, I say some sort of silent prayer that the verdict will be somewhat different. Alas, it's the same. I'm listening to the CSR give me my options and I feel my lip begin to wobble, which confuses me to no end. The tears are beginning to fall and suddenly the dam breaks. There's no stopping it now. My poor brother is in the car with me trying to console me, calm me, anything to find out what is going on. The worst part is that I really don't know when that switch flipped, but it was an intense experience. I guess the little disappointments of everyday life catch up to me once in a while, and today was one of those days.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I like to think that I'm pragmatic person and that it aids in my productivity, but I'm starting to wonder if I should reach beyond that. Life as it is right now has become extremely mundane and that I have this insatiable need for a success that goes beyond the realm of most modern definitions of the word. Soul searching, spirit questing...call it what you will, but all I know is that I definitely, and desperately, need more.</span><br /></span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-90738564132545852162008-09-05T08:38:00.001-07:002008-09-05T08:50:48.909-07:00Storm's a-brewin'.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">So here it is a b-e-a-utiful Friday. I have one short class and the day off from work. It sounds wonderful, doesn't it? I'm going to try to soak in as much relaxation as I can for today, because tomorrow that bitch Hannah is supposed to rain down on us and lord knows what kind of chaos a few gusts of wind and some torrential downpours will cause. If I'm lucky it won't be enough to cause major damage, but just enough for the higher-ups to say, "No use making them go in when no one else will be out." Yeah. That's more like it.<br /><br />Yesterday was kind of a rough day and I can't for the life of me figure out why. I woke up on time, got to school on time, and even had lunch with my brother (which is always nice), but by the time I got to work I was in a right foul mood. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I wasn't able to squeeze in the 30-minute power nap I was so hoping for. Or maybe it was because of how bloody hot it was outside. Either way, it made for an incredibly long and painful night. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">I think my only saving grace was this little family that came in. An older gentleman, his wife, and his younger sister. I could tell from the way that they sort of skirted some of my questions that something had happened. Something rather serious, in fact, that warranted the sister's relocation. She walked in with her hair kind of messy, a lazy, slapped-together outfit, and a somewhat frightened look on her face. I'm kind of used to this, since a lot of the women that walk into the store either don't like to try on clothes in-store or just don't like you butting into their business. SORRY MISSY, but that's kind of my job (well, somewhat). This family was different though. I gave my input, helped pick out clothes and put together outfits, and they really appreciated it. I could see the woman's spirits rising a bit and for the first time in a while, I felt satisfied with my job. I signed on to this gig so I could help women feel good about themselves. Sure, clothing is kind of a superficial "quality" to be proud of, but when you think you look good, you feel good. Call me crazy, but it's kind of a universal fact. I wish all my customers could be like her. If that was the case, I'm pretty sure I'd love my job.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">So after getting home at 9:50 I changed into my pajamas, crashed on the couch and didn't move an inch for the rest of the night. Let's hope today I can be a bit more productive, haha.</span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8063891120391562620.post-77862661548758560092008-09-03T07:24:00.000-07:002008-09-03T07:31:31.445-07:00Everyday is a new battle<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Today I was faced with some serious thoughts about myself. I don't really have a strong sense of self worth, and I think it's causing me to shut down emotionally. Instead of crying for those I care for, I'm becoming more and more apathetic. Can't say it's something I'm proud of. In fact, I might even go as far as to say that it's quite shameful. Where is that warm, mushy feeling I used to get? I miss that. I miss crying over a good, heart-wrenching moment. A REAL one. I cry more when I watch TV or movies. In a word, ridiculous.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It's easy to blame him for a lot of my pain, but I'm scared of what will be left after I lose that excuse. What validation will I have?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">It's becoming absolutely unbearable, living like this. So much of my life is a lie and it always comes back to bite me...ten times over. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever be able to break away. I'm just tired of being miserable. I'm doing all that I can do to fight it, but what more can I do? The happy times are short, superficial, and fleeting at best. Before I have time to marinate in the joy, it's gone. Contentment is a perpetual tease, leaving me feeling unfulfilled, frustrated, and all the more deprived.</span>Naomihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17414535853509744385noreply@blogger.com1