I'm feeling very rusty.

I am feeling very rusty. Yes, I write tweets, blog posts, comments, and long winded e-mails, but the assignment of writing 1900 words is taunting me. Why in the world did I think I would enjoy a writing class?

I guess it was because... what I want to do most in life leaves me with more fear than desire. And I'm the kind of person that likes to keep growing. So it just seemed like the next thing to conquer. So I signed up, forcing myself to type type type in the dark night once again. All week I've been feeling that anxious stress that I felt for four years straight. I miss my calm happiness. I miss my lazy, not so guilty TV nights. Now I finally understand what it is to have a guilty pleasure again. It's the anything that takes you away from your homework. (Or other various responsibilities, goals, tasks, obligations.)

I went to a speaker - panel - writers' support group - session tonight. It was just that. Four professional writers up front, attempting to express their charm and wit off paper while the 20 of us in the room gazed at them in confusion. I'm not sure if they were encouraging me to pursue my dream, or slowly hinting to find a new one. "It's tough to pitch. It's lonely to stay at home. You never feel like you write anything well."

I'm thinking I want to keep at my 9 to 5. And continue pondering about all this writing stuff. And I think I'd just like to read more. Think more. Write more. Bah. Those writers really confused me. I can't wrap my mind around it all yet.

I guess it just seems that maybe the grass is always greener. Or maybe it just depends on the person. One of the writers was especially happy with his success. Another was especially happy with his non-success. And the others were just continuously striving to do more. One seemed always let down. The other seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders.

There are no rules. And I think I like that. And I think I like the idea of essays / memoir better than reporting. But who knows. I've never really tried it. I've got a lot to think about. Yup. A lot. I don't know if it'll ever make any sense. But a lot of the time writing it out helps. Thanks for helping me think.

the walls around the places we snuggle

i've found this amazing blog that i can't get enough of. (http://www.designspongeonline.com/) it's full of ideas for do-it-yourself projects - the kind that make your home completely unique and interesting - all different styles of design - but i love it all.

most of the photos are making me dream big... and making me want to be all grown up already. it's fun moving from place to place, making new temporary homes each year, but i really can't wait until the day that i have a place that is mine, with walls that are mine, and floors that are mine, and i will spend money on real furniture and paint that will get to stay until i'm inspired to do it all over again.

when i think about my life, what short time we get, and the things i'd like to have and do, having a home that fits me perfectly is definitely on that list. it's not so much having the place forever, or keeping a certain decor forever, but it's the stability that comes with it - the permission - on my own terms - the ownership - and the togetherness - because i want to share that home and fill it with love.

i'm awake.

after so many years of being tucked into bed for sweet dreams and physical gain, i've finally realized how good it feels to grow up, or rather, to grow forward. when i was younger, i used to sit in my classes or lie on my bedroom floor and gaze out the window, letting my thoughts float far and away, up into the clouds. i'd imagine the things little girls do imagine: what true love would be like, what that real world would offer, and those perfect shoes for every occasion. an uninterrupted daydream was paradise.

but just a few years ago there was that moment of realization that the dreams we have as children are just that. we have to put our energy towards acting rather than thinking, and speaking rather than listening because if we don't do something, we stay stuck in the dream-like state, everything happening around us, hazy and out of our control. and there was a time after waking up to this reality that i was scared and in search of someone or something, anything fluffy and soft to surround myself with. but as much as i want the ice cream cone to stay floating above, the wind always takes it away. chasing the clouds can be so tiring.

now, at this young age of 24, i'm finally feeling comfortable with the responsibility of being awake. every day i appreciate more and more, and i am beginning to feel excitement for what is to come because i know that i have learned and will continue to learn. i guess it's true that we are wiser as we get older, and i'm looking forward to being able to see the world from this point of view. i used to really smile from the moments i'd create in my imagination... the perfect picnics and the rainy kisses. but now, as cheesy as it sounds, it's the real events and memories i have that make me truly smile, and that is such an amazing feeling.

i just wish someone had told me sooner... that time would do it's work. however, maybe they did tell me... i was probably just too busy hitting snooze.

somewhere over the rainbow

the other night i ended up at the key club for the first time since my living in hollywood. the crowd was ridiculously sleezy and desperate, old, and still trying to make something of a dream that has for so long been shaken apart. the bands were awful. no harmony. no inspiration. just a flat desire for fame. there might have been an ounce of passion stuck somewhere in between the tight levi's and the cheesey belt buckles, but i'm sure the combat boots will squash it sooner than later. i've never felt so depressed while watching live music.... i had to get out. never will i return to the key club again. (unless it's a great band.) ugh. everything about that place felt so wrong, tainted and broken.

somewhere over the rainbow, i spent an uplifting night at the troubadour in west hollywood last night. i saw some great bands that have their hearts and minds in the right place, and it really does send out a better feeling in the room. it was a tad cold in the venue, but the music somehow warmed the place up. plus shia labeouf was there, making a fool of himself. such a drunken, lonely celeb, trying too hard to obtain more attention. apparently he can keep a quarter on his forehead while banging his head on the bar counter -- 5 times. brilliant.

tonight we celebrate S' birthday at cha cha cha. i need to find the perfect present! she's not into contrasting colors so much. hm. monochromatic possibilities, where art thou?

oh, but wait...

i have a job, huh? one of those 9-6, sit indoors all day and dream of whats going on outside that window, type of jobs. it's a good one - so i can't complain at all, but spending the most quality time i've spent with people in a long long (ever?) is really not motivating the sitting in the fluorescent lighting all day. the truth is, i'm torn between routine and the new. i'm so always up for seeing new things and trying new things... i don't mind taking a scenic route. but i guess i can let it get out of control too. i've tossed the stability right out of this 6th story window, and i'm running on curiosity.

and fear. watching a fellow twosome part ways makes me realize just how disposable relationships (love or less) are. and this is what i have always thought to be the most important thing we can have in our lives... people to share them with... but we toss each other around so often. so from there, i consider that every strong connection we make, and every moment we are given, is truly a very precious one.

last night's show at the roxy was cancelled, so that (thankfully) gave me a bit of a break. tonight is first fridays at the natural history museum. the bird and the bee are playing and jukebox the ghost are opening. apparently its a popular night; pre-sale tix are already sold out. not sure if we'll end up making it inside or not.

it's raining. there really is something about that rain that makes it feel okay to stay home and do nothing (or take a moment to type a little something something in the blog blog).

i heart los angeles

the love that my parents share is, as i wrote in their 27th anniversary card, an inspiring one that has taught me not only about what it is to have love between two people, but what it is to have a truly loving family. it's an example that has set my standards high -- probably too high for most los angeles prospects. i really haven't dated too much while living in and around hollywood, but from what i've seen and heard, it's rough. the comments i can agree with -- everyone is in their own world, focused on their own career(s). (most are pursuing multiple feats: acting, modeling, directing, etc.) it's a strange world to live in, especially being someone who did not arrive with a dream. i wanted to be a writer, "someday", but i never felt it as an almost selfish passion that would limit myself from other endeavors. there is nothing wrong with going after your dreams in such a way, but it does diminish the ability to develop strong relationships with people. everyone is very much looking for the right connections, rather than the connection. the love relationships they have with one another in between those "big break" moments are mostly physical, generally superficial, and usually left empty and unexplained. i'm so done with that pattern. from now on, i'm looking for the good ones. my heart deserves nothing less.