Somewhere Over the Rainbow

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, I heard it once, I heard it once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. And those of you who dare to dream, dreams really can come true." original lyrics by E.Y. Harburg, adapted by Shawn McDonald.

Is it all just an alternate universe? The happiness. Does it only take place if we dare to dream it, and even then is it really only a dream? Do bluebirds only fly over the rainbow? The song says someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me... when is that day? Dreams really can come true, but only can. Not will. Not they definitely will come true. I don't even know what this song means. It's a sad song. It's of wanting something more. And yet, I think through it all there is this hope that it can be changed, even without the guarantee. It's kinda like my life.

Grey Sky Morning

It's been an interesting morning. I awoke with a gasp. Glanced at the clock and realized the alarm hadn't sounded and I was already 10 minutes late to meet my co-worker, Konstantine. I quickly gathered my remaining unpacked things, got myself ready, and met him in the lobby. Grabbed a quick yogurt and headed out to the car. While packing the trunk a box full of my papers and crap fell over and was strewn across the pavement, all the whilst 2 cars were waiting to pass and their drivers just sat there and stared at me. The morning was warm and humid, but the sun wasn't shining. My hair instantly became a football helmet of frizzyness, despite my straightening efforts. How do people live like this? Got to the familiar old Vantage building, a sight I haven't seen almost 3 weeks, where Konstantine handed the key off to me and told me to go up by myself, while he got coffee. :( Went up and got myself situated, and as soon as he returned I told him I was going down to get a cup for myself. As I walked down the stairs I looked forward to hearing my "preciate you". (is that wrong?) I filled up my cup and set it aside to get a creamer. However, I must have set it on a ridge in the counter, because all of a sudden my life was in slow motion. I could see the cup tipping over and the coffee spilling out, but I was helpless to stop it. All over the counter and all over the front of my skirt, coffee. I just stood there, thinking... is this really happening? Really?
Luckily, I am going home today, so I had an entire wardrobe in the trunk of the car. Two thumbs up for mornings that suck.

What Sarah Said

I just listened to the Death Cab for Cutie song "What Sarah Said". It's kind of a sad song, but one of the last lines in the song is "Love is watching someone die." Is that true? I mean, that doesn't define love. It's true, love isn't going to run if those are the circumstances. So it's a characteristic of love maybe. Love is going to stick it out 'til the end, no matter the circumstance. In health, and in sickness. In life, and in death. The last line asks, "who is going to watch you die?" And here I wonder. My family would stick it out. Who else? And then, the questions that everyone asks at one point or another is "Who would go to my funeral?" Who would care? Who have I influenced? Who have I touched? Who cares? Who loves/loved? Tough questions. And I can only hope I've made a difference. Do we really ever know if it's true?
Thoughts running through my head.

Cabin Fever

Sigh.
I'm still in Nashville. It's Thursday of week 4 in Nash, and the 9th straight week away from home. Of the past 61 days I've been home 8. And today, it hit me. I don't know what it was that did it. I've been fine up until this point. I think I got a little antsy in Indianapolis the last week or 2 as well. But today it was extreme. I felt weak and tired last night after work, but I thought it was just the MG. Today, I had almost a panic attack that I was running out of time to do the work, and yet I still had another week to go. I began to vent my stress to my manager, hoping he'd just talk me down, but instead he told me to go home for a week. So instead of finishing one more week here, I'm going to go home, finish up another job, and then head back here in a week or two to finish the last week. I don't know if that's crazy. I feel like it's giving up a little. I feel like I should be strong enough to have been able to finish. But apparently I'm not. I panic.
I finished a photo project that I've been working on for a year. It was a self portrait project. I had to take a picture of myself, any part of me as long as I was in it, every day for a year. Foot, toe, finger, ear, hair, eyeball... anything. And the goal of the picture was to capture the feel of the day. That didn't always happen, but I tried. It was a lot of work trying to think of something creative every day, and there isn't anywhere I went without the camera. But now it's done, and I have this sense of loss I think. Like a part of me is missing. I've gotten so used to taking and posting that picture everyday, and now that it's done, something isn't right. Oh, I'm happy for the break. I absolutely needed it. It was draining. But I still miss it. I'll probably go again, sooner than later. But right now I'm in the mourning process. And maybe that's why the homesickness hit so hard all of a sudden. Don't know.
Just know that I'm tired. I'm stressed. And I'm ready to be done. Get me out of Nashville.

Running Through My Head

"Music is the electrical soil in which the spirit lives, thinks and invents." - Ludwig van Beethoven

I find that this is true in my life. Live music is the best. It gives you a high like nothing else. I try and get to as many concerts and shows as possible without over doing it. Can you overdo it? I try and share a Song of the Day every week day with a few people. It consumes me some times... picking the right song. I used to be worried they would judge me for the kind of music I like or listen to, but I think I've gotten over that. Mostly because I've realized it I like it, and that's really all that matters. I've called myself a music slut. For the most part I like everything and will give anything a try. It's such an emotional connection. And one song doesn't speak to someone the same as it does to someone else. That is the wonder of it. Soundtrack of my life.

Confusion

As always I am confused by life. Why have things gone the way they have gone?

Thoughts, Fears, & Doubts

I've been rolling around an idea in my mind for some time now. You know, the kind of morsel that you just have to suck on in order for it to be any good.... and as soon as you bite down to chew, the experience, the flavor, the moment is lost forever.
The idea is a move. A big move. I've been thinking this for years, and probably should have done it straight out of college, but comfort zones take over and common sense wins out.
It really doesn't make sense to move. My entire family is here, and they are my support, my best friends. My job is here. And in this economy it just isn't smart to be starting something new, when you have stability where you are. My friends are here. And sometimes I feel like I don't have room in my life for anymore. And yet, why do I feel like I'm going no where?
Moving would mean a fresh start. Trying something for myself. Getting a new social circle. Meeting someone new? Someone special? Being independent. Relying on God and not myself for a change. I think it would be good for me.
I'm stuck in Indiana by myself right now. Maybe that's where all these thoughts are coming from. Just that being away really wouldn't be so bad. Realizing that I need a clean break from relationships that already exist in my life. I'm just not sure I can do it.
If I actually bite down will the excitement, the flavor, the magic of the idea be gone?