every little thing is gonna be alright (and just ignore those cosmetology bitches)

So I have been away from the blog for what seems like forever and a lot has happened.

Joe and I are doing a lot better, he has found a new job and I think he is feeling really positive about it. We are still broken up and a new job isn't going to fix it.  I think he is accepting our friendship, because in the end, as he put it he "has to accept it".  I feel good about it and have found more Tina time which can sometimes can be a hard thing to fill, but the opportunity is exciting.

My closest friend at beauty school is having a really tough time with depression. I don't really understand depression as a disease, more as a feeling you sometimes have. I keep wanting to tell my friend to just snap out of it, which because I am an empathetic and tactful person I do not, but I do give suggestions like to hit the gym more because that naturally boosts your mood, as well as drinking water (the number one cause of afternoon fatigue -- dehydration) and to spoil yourself and watch a good movie with a jar of olives (something my sister continually recommends when I am upset).

However, my friend doesn't like olives.  

Normally I would take this as a character judgement, but she isn't feeling so well so I will tell her at another time that not liking olives is similar to not like fun, or italians and she may be either a stick in the mud or a bigot.

And I think she found my thought that her depression just added to simple dehydration a bit naive. In my defense she did complain of being chronically fatigued, unable to get out of bed, etc. I'm not a jerk, I just think a lot of Americans are dehydrated.

But she did take up the exercise suggestion and it has helped. However she is still going to the health department to get on Welbutrin (sp?). 

Which is strange to me because she is constantly anxious about getting pregnant with her new bf  and I am always like get on birth control, dude.

But she is afraid of synthetic hormones. 

Hopefully the irony of this statement is not lost on you.

I mean,  isn't Welbutrin and other antidepressants kind of the same thing? I just always imagined that antidepressants can rob of you of something sacred, but maybe if you are depressed chronically something sacred has already been robbed from you.

Prevention magazine also recommends knitting, its meditative mind state helps ease depression symptoms. I mentioned this to her as well, seeing as how I am a vat of  random knowledge.

 I just found the comment ironic. I think she is also afraid of weight gain. Today a girl commented that she looked like she gained a little weight and my friend lost it and went home. 

But why are bitches saying that anyway? I wouldn't tell any of my girlfriends they looked like they had gained weight, unless I was a sadomasochist or something.

Which I'm not. I like eating olives and watching movies. Chihuahuas. Yogurt. Pilates. Kites.

Sadomasochism?

No thanks.

(P.s. If any of you reading this have suffered from depression I apologize, I am just venting and am sensitive to the devastating nature of the disease, even if I don't understand)

Speaking of sadomasochism sans the sado, the other burning topic was that I officially have known (as an acquaintance in my early college years) a serial rapist/potentially brutal murderer. My life is turning into a Lifetime movie!

I didn't know him well, always thought he was annoying and weird. A little full of himself (massive insecurities?) and kind of a pathological liar.  The even weirder thing is that months before when these prostitutes were getting raped and stabbed (And if you don't think a prostitute can be raped shame on you, read Cunt, watch that Charleze Theron movie and change your mind please) they put out a profile, they recruited these out of state profilers, like that tv show The Profiler, except these were from SC because NC just thinks they don't need these kinds of special people, anyway these profilers gave the exact description that I just gave you of this guy, plus that he would live close to where the assaults happen (he does) live alone (does that too) and have an employment situation where he answers to no one as well (checkmate).

  Now that the truth is out I keep thinking that all the weirdos and people who stare or are just giving off the creepy vibe are potential psychopaths.

Seriously, when CSI is done with the remains found in different locations and matches the bags of hair and box of teeth confiscated in his house...

But that could take months. I am so totally grossed out. I can't stop thinking about the girl he "person of interested" might have killed and cut up and thrown in the river.  

I just think about if Liz had gotten to rent that room in the Future of Traditions studio instead of him how things might be different.  I mean he hung out in that place all the time, doing odd jobs, pretending to be normal.  Asheville boasts of being such a progressive community, but no one in that hoity toity fucking stupid arts community even realized that he sexually and physically assaulted his ex-gf. (And you don't think your sig. other can be raped then you must reread Cunt and perhaps take a class in Humanism) It makes me so angry, that whole scene gave off this creative holier than thow above this bull shit but they are in it. They are in the shit.  I feel for them, God, what a violation. That secret double life.

Here is the full gruesome story if you're interested.

I mean this guy hit on me a few times (or in this weird, cocky, I am a woman magnet kind of way that totally backfired because he was awkward and weird, just weird  -- Thank God I was not a complete idiot and followed my bad vibe feel on this one. Its weird that some people say they were surprised by all this -- seriously, I'm not.) We had conversations. We smoked together on a tree beside the river where he may have dumped this prostitutes body years later, maybe he was doing that then, this train of thought could just keep on going. I  gotta stop typing about this, Bella is picking up on my vibe. Chihuahuas are very sensitive. I'm bringing one on my next date.

On a lighter note, I still find watching/listening to my grandmother eat without glueing in her dentures extremely annoying/stomach churning.  I am finding a lot of things she does exasperating and maybe I am losing sight/taking too personally many of things she says, and am also jealous I didn't inherit a large sum of money upon turning 21 so I could fulfill my dream of traveling around the world (think cousins, not grandma, although she does live off of a trust fund) instead of cook my grandma meals, clean house, take to the salon, library, grocery store all because I just don't have enough for gas, even when I was bartending.

However, my friend Morgan had a good point when I told her why I was grumpy (and I am jealous, downright fucking green) that if my mom had it she would would give it to me. And she is right.  But that brings up another point, I am really rich in family, no matter how dysfunctional, awkward and unable to glue their dentures in, I have a great family that will support me and just wants me to be happy and that's not something money can buy.

 But that's why I am in beauty school. To make the big bucks. And travel. Before I am too old. You know I wasn't going to end on too sappy a note.

Ciao!

the still and empty house

Saturday and all is quiet.  I have come home from work at 6:20 to find the last of my housemates departing.  Alone in the house I think about what I should do and wonder at my solitude, and slowly begin to loathe it.  I think of Saturday nights when I came home and Joe had something cooking, a football game on, a thought to tell me, a hug, a kiss. . . and now I turn on NPR to fill up the house a little more, but I still shudder and choke as I try to eat my food alone.  I don't know where he is, and as of two weeks ago I know longer have any right to know.  The loneliness is sad, isolating save for Bella; but what's more is that it's my fault.  This empty Saturday night is my doing.  I am the reason why he no longer stays at home and waits

for me, to hear how my day is, to eat with me, to watch a movie or on the rare occasion when I had money to spend, or even rarer he did, we would venture out and have a few drinks.

People outside of my decision would say I did the right thing and it's for the best. But the decision sucks and I hate it, but I hated staying in a relationship that drained me too.  Maybe it's change that I am mourning for, or what's worse failure.  At any rate, eating alone, in a still and empty house is an isolating homecoming at the end of my week. And I fucking hate it.

I have tried to post a blog for over a week now and I guess I am having one of those times in life where there is nothing you want to say but there is something you must say.  I have tried to post the below paragraph over 5 times at least and now, with a heavy heart, I think I am ready to do so. I lost something two weeks ago but I have also gained. I guess in time I will be able to better judge the equality of the exchange....

"I write tonight as a changed person.  Recently I have let go of the only man who has ever treated me so well.  The only relationship in which I have respected myself, and was treated with respect in return; but, for many reasons, it's time and I need to be alone and also let Joe find himself.  I haven't written here in a while because I didn't know what to say, indeed only a few persons know.  But it was for the right reasons and I hope those reasons become clearer as the days pass and it becomes easier to comprehend what change really means.  As of right now we are friends, or try to be, and I have never missed so much the person who lives downstairs."

New beginnings hit the pavement running

So Joe and I are both experiencing the new beginnings "tingly" feelings. Like a choice you have resolved to make (or been helped to make) is going to impact your life positively, and probably in fabulous and currently unknown ways.

Joe is registered for 2 classes at AB Tech, a long time dream finally realized.  His first class is this Monday night!  And without the assistance of my mom, me and a host of other supporters this wouldn't be possible. I know he is really excited. He is making a huge vat of chili for celebration.

I myself have joined the YMCA through their financial asst. program -- without a discount this poor student couldn't afford it.  But I have a personal ya ya exercise guru and have even planned out this training schedule and have found some other classes their I am going to take combined with my cardio/strength routine. One of which is Tai Chi to help with some of the Beauty school fatigue I get where I want to stab myself in the eye and anyone else who is in range.  I am also planning on taking Yoga and Pilates, and am attending a Pilates course at AB Tech. 

I may hate Pilates before all is said and done.

Or just be tired of saying it.

Pilates. Pilates. Pilates.

I also had to renew my license today. I feel old.

But not too old to party! Yesterday I went to Pisgah brewery in Black Mtn with Brent and Ashley. Apparently I had too much as I had a serious altercation with the pavement and running. And now have a totally rad knee rip in my favorite pair.  I was also dancing to "I Will Survive". I mean I've got all my life to live. And all my love to give. I will survive. Except maybe not my pants.  

This video survived. But it's only four seconds and fairly unentertaining. I mean I was drunk not a cinematographer.

Carbon steel, calling the law, crafternoon

So sushi and board games was a great success, although there was more sushi and only one bout of apples to apples, I don't think anyone was complaining.  It was an interesting mix of people, newer friends because all the old ones are in Flagstaff making videos of hungry trashcans or are in Maryland with their parents. But that's okay,  good times were had by all until later in the evening when it got kind of sketchy and some friends of friends brought this drunk woman from Wild Wings whom I actually never met but sure am glad I smudged my room after she left! Of course, I never met her, saw her face, maybe I shouldn't judge? But if you gate crash someone's birthday party it's always nice to introduce yourself, and if not that then by all means set up shop in basement den, turning it into some sort of post hotwings and beer harem.  Just please, remember, even in your drunken state to send proceeds to said birthdayer because getting old is expensive and if you're going to be a jerk at least pay me to put up with your shit. I don't think said person got the memo.

Anyway the point is, immediately she started seducing the more vulnerable of my guests, so I was told.... by that I mean the friends of friends with less than stellar behavior. (It takes two to tank a party I guess) There was also a shouting match on my lawn at 1:30 am, I'm sure all my neighbors now think I am a degenerate. Wild accusations abounded, and a certain member of the party thought anything with a pulse was hot and was very careful to not let his high carbon steal blade get wet (it rusts easily) which provided much fodder later for me, and the realization that I am never leaving left over liquor near Joe's brother again, beer is so much milder. But without liquor there would also not be this extraordinary entertainment in the midst of which you would say to yourself, "Sure am glad Tina turns 25 today, asshole."

The next day I was very exhausted, and watched Scrubs and then Bella and I went over to Maddy and LeAnne's place and had a crafternoon. They made mosaic tiles and I made postcards to send out West.  Hopefully this artistic endeavor will not end up in a hungry trashcan disguised as a cupcake.

Berfday!

I am writing this before I head out the door. Got about 10 minutes.  Had a great pre-birthday with a massage from Thea, and then sushi lunch with mom and Thea and birthday goodies. Later that night I met Amy and gf Liz at the Chocolate Lounge where I had mocha stout butter cream frosting chocolate shavings birthday slice complete with candle! And we shared a beer float and two truffles! Amy is moving to Florida today for a biology research thing.

I am excited about the camera and 1/2 plane ticket I got from Liz post-departure, which as soon as the financial aid boom hits in February I am going to invest in a ticket to California! My travel there will be much shorter, hopefully like 7 hours and not 7 days.

Now I am going to the salon which I have told no one its my birthday. Tonight Joe is taking me out to dinner and a movie. We are thinking of trying a new place like Scratch or just a place we haven't been before like Salsa's or Table or Kubo.

Then Sunday there is sushi rolling board game party. Hopefully anyone left in town who hasn't moved away or vacationed will attend.

Ciao!

New Years Blah blah blah

So New Year's was something of a bust, although I did give it the college try and bought liquor and champagne. However, I was alone most of the day with Pablo and Bella, outside of running around trying to purchase said booze.  I set up my bread maker.  I think that was my largest New Year's accomplishment. I didn't even open the bottle of Prosecco.  New Year's is kind of anti-climatic if there is no one there to drink with you -- although I'm sure Bella would be kind enough to try my mixed drinks and champagne, but with "mixed" results if you know what I mean.  I did get a drunk dial from Liz in Texas around one. In Texas, as in central time, it was just about to be midnight.  I think we had a meaningful conversation about Austin, porch fans, and her password to her Skype account -- which I made up so you know it's utter genius.

  Joe worked until nine and then left this morning at eight. C'est la vie.  I am inviting my mother over tonight for split pea soup that after talking for days about Joe making it, it is I, Tina, who has taken up the task.

I also was going to attempt to make a challah bread to go with the soup, although I don't know if they really go together as I am pretty sure the Jews don't eat ham.

And I am going to join the YMCA.  That is my New Year's resolution, to join the YMCA.  I feel like asking myself to exercise or put a definitive goal would be too much pressure so I am instead asking myself to join a christian organization with work-out machines. Who knows, maybe treadmills get you closer to God.