Number 14.

Sweet disposition

Never too soon
Oh reckless abandon,
Like no one's watching you

A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry
Our rights, our wrongs
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh

Just stay there
Cause I'll be comin' over
While our bloods still young
It's so young, it runs
Won't stop til it's over
Won't stop to surrender
Songs of desperation
I played them for you

A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry
our rights, our wrongs
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh

Just stay there
Cause I'll be comin' over
While our bloods still young
It's so young, it runs
Won't stop til it's over
Won't stop to surrender

A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry
Our rights, our wrongs (won't stop til it's over)
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry
Our rights, our wrongs (won't stop til it's over)
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A kiss, a cry
Our rights, our wrongs (won't stop til it's over)
A moment, a love
A dream, a laugh
A moment, a love
A moment, a love (won't stop to surrender)

- Temper Trap

Dream of Californication.

I went through a phase of addiction involving the Showtime series Californication. Hank Moody is a freaking revelation to me and his starving artist persona mixed with his overwhelming yet totally chill sexual nature continues to draw me in whenever I'm at someone's house who has Showtime and who doesn't mind letting me watch whatever I want while I'm there. This happens rarely, so I have missed many episodes.

Anyway, there was this one episode that legitimately changed my life. The writing is absolutely breath-taking. The scene is perfectly done. The thought behind it is adorable. Hank meets Karen, a woman he is immediately taken by. She's already in a relationship so the fact that Hank and her are having an affair is the problem. But they both know there's something there, something real. Hank is a writer and emotionally bizarre with women, so he has a hard time going after anything, anyone. Naturally, he writes instead. He writes her this letter and sends it to her. I still get goose bumps when I read it. I rewound the scene over and over and over and over and over again just so I could write down every word. And here it is:

Dear Karen,

If you're reading this it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it. So good for me. You don't know me very well but if you get me started, I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me. This…This is the hardest thing I've ever had to write. There's no easy way to say this so ill just say it.

I met someone.

It was an accident. I wasn't looking for it, I wasn't on the make. It was a perfect storm. She said one thing, I said another. Next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there's this feeling in my gut she might be the one.

She's completely nuts in a way that makes me smile. Highly neurotic. A great deal of maintenance required.

She is you Karen.

That's the good news. The bad news is that I don't know how to be with you right now. And that scares the shit out of me. Because if I'm not with you right now, I have this feeling we'll get lost out there. It's a big bad world full of twists and turns, and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment; the moment that could have changed everything.
I don't know what's going on with us. And I can’t tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me. But damn, you smell good. Like home. And you make excellent coffee, that's gotta count for something.

Call me.

I'm faithfully yours,

hank moody

I noted on my facebook wall that I sometimes eat dessert before I eat dinner. I actually prefer it I think.

I do a lot of things backwards and always have.

I'm just going to put it out there and say it. I'm suffering from anxiety lately. The really awful kind where you think you're totally losing it.

I am hesitant to write about it for two reasons: because I write about it in my journal every night already and because sometimes writing about it makes me think too much about it and I throw myself into a panicked state.

I've dealt with this for as long as I can remember, which makes me very sad. I know everyone has their own set of issues and I know that everyone I see could be fighting a harder battle. But I have to tell you, battles of the mind can be excruciating.

I have been desperately trying to rid myself of the worry and have taken some suggestions from others. One of my friends bought me a peppermint plant that apparently eases the mind, my father suggested some relaxing tea (which I tried for one day but stopped after I came down with a splitting headache because my body needed coffee) and have even dusted off an old CD of affirmations by a very strange sounding woman named Belleruth.

Belleruth's voice is soothing in the "old woman who talks very slow" kind of way. I popped the CD in on my way to work the other day and found my mind instantly rejecting the idea of it based on her voice alone. But I gave it more time. I began to listen to the words. They were cheesy, they ARE cheesy. But after a while I began to enjoy "thanking my body for all it has done for me in the past and all it will do for me in the future."

I believe the point of the affirmations is to allow us to get out of our minds and to become more body conscious. Because our bodies are constantly fighting for us, helping us overcome life, more than we give it credit for.

Things could be worse my friends. I could have an awful terminal illness and no chance at living. That's a depressing thought if I've ever written one. But I don't.

I'm constantly reminding myself in times of inner turmoil that I'm just uncoiling some tightly bound wires that have gripped me since childhood. I've tried prying them open and allowing them to unfold on their own, but they won't. So I'm trying a new route. I'm actually talking about it with other people and hoping someone magically cures me. Even though I know this is an inside job, I need to lean on some support.

I know that time is key here, so I will wait for this to pass.

In other news, I love my job. At work I rarely feel anxious. Someone tell me why the most stressful 8 hours of everyday are a breeze for me but coming home and getting to bed are awful.

Oh wait, I've already told you: Because I am a backwards ass chick.

But a strong one.

4 Minute Prose

Sometimes when I think of you

All my fingers turn to blue

And then my face it gets so red

I feel as heavy as the dead

You laugh and balk and sulk and yell

You claim it's truth you're trying to sell

But it just feels like nails and stones

Are cutting me and breaking bones

It's you who makes me second guess

Some things I think I must confess

Is my nose too big, arms too fat?

And other vainish things like that

I came from you; you gave me life

But you bring pain and you bring strife

I wish instead of pushing me

You'd find a mirror or two or three

Until you saw what you really were

A scared, broken soul in lion's fur

~ Adia Belle

Tumbling

I just wrote a post and then deleted it. After reading it over, I felt irritated by my own negativity.

It was true, what I said. About how my mother's words cut me once again and how even after all this time, it still takes days for me to shake her.

But I actually don't feel like seeing the words written so deeply.

So I'm going to finish my laundry and head to bed. I've had an exhausting day of work and thinking. I hope and pray that I can get a nice full night's sleep.

The trick is not how much pain you feel - but how much joy you feel. Any idiot can feel pain. Life is full of excuses to feel pain, excuses not to live, excuses, excuses, excuses.

Erica Jong