it's occurred to me

that it's still the same shit with me, different year. Started the day blow-my-brains-out-bored again, read through last year's blog entries and looked up a few singing prodigies online. I gained 20 pounds instead of losing 10. How depressing.

I've decided to do a monthly goal list thing.

Personal goals for the month of May:

1. South Beach diet phase one
2. Drive myself to and from work
3. Kill the repack boxes at work
4. Get a fab new hairstyle
5. Do three strength-training workouts a week

6. Lose five pounds.
7. Clean up and organize one storage box and one apartment area a week.
8. Blog more intelligently.

Granted, I don't know you.

Maybe you watched a lot of Disney and Hollywood movies when you were growing up. Maybe you were saving yourself for "The One". And when he swept you off your feet, you made the sort of decision only a woman who knows herself should make. You said "I do".

And now, a decade and two kids later, you decide you've outgrown him. Get real. You flatter yourself that you've matured and he hasn't. In truth, you don't know who you are or what you want, certainly not enough to throw it all away and break up your family.

I know you are searching. You need a life that it is meaningful and fulfilling to you. I understand completely. You should have done this long ago, long before you settled down. It's not too late. But you don't have to write off the last ten years either. Find what you are looking for without hurting the ones you love.

the showcase has been postponed,

due to half the class being sick, as well as inclement weather.

I was supposed to write a Dear abby type post, but for now, lemme just say before I forget:

the problem's not with him,
you haven't outgrown him
he's happy, perfectly fine, and exactly who he needs to be.

You're the one who's got some growing up to do.
A lot of it.

Clarifications to follow.

I am emotionally wrung-out today.

I have been touched, disappointed, angry, confused, sardonic, surprised, grateful, embarrassed, exhausted, resentful, and indifferent. I realize I could just have been trying to distract and sabotage myself -- only a day to go till the showcase, I don't quite have my lyrics down, I don't know where the burned CD with my track went, and I still need to write my little intro which in voice class we refer to as a "slate". Finally all these other concerns have given way to panic and focus on the immediate problem: tomorrow's performance. All else is mere fluff.

I still find that Rob Thomas/Matchbox Twenty is the best cure for a troubled mind.

This day, the 16th of April 2007, a Monday:

~ 33 die in Virginia Tech shooting rampage

~ Mandla Mandela reclaims the traditional leadership role his grandfather renounced

~ Patrick and I mark our sixth year of marriage.

Happy anniversary to us.

Rest Stop Lyrics

Matchbox Twenty
Mad Season

Just three miles from the rest stop
She slams on the brakes
She said I tried to be but I'm not
So could you please collect your things
Well, I don't wanna be cold
I don't wanna be cruel
But I gotta find more
Than what's happening with you
If you'll open up the door

She said, While you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what you're dreaming when
It came to mind that I didn't care
And I thought, Hell if it's over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose my nerve
Are you listening
Can you hear me
Have you forgotten

Just three miles from the rest stop
And my mouth's too dry to rage
The light was shining from the radio
I could barely see her face
But she knew all the words that I never had said
She knew the crumpled-up promise of this broken-down man
And as I opened up the door

She said, While you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what you're dreaming when
It came to mind that I didn't care
And I thought, Hell if it's over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose my nerve
Are you listening
Can you hear me, yeah
Can you hear me, oh can you hear me
Can you hear me

While you were sleeping
Well, I was listening to the radio
And wondering what you're dreaming when
It came to mind that I didn't care
So I thought, Hell if it's over
Well, I had better end it quick
Or I could lose all my nerve
Are you listening
Can you hear me

While you were sleeping
Well, I was listening to the radio
And wondering what you're dreaming when
It came to mind that I didn't care
And I thought, Hell if it's over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose all my nerve
Are you listening
Can you hear me

i'm in that place again.

Nothing matters.

I want to just pick up and leave it all behind me. I've tired of talking too much and saying so little. The things that bother me I am not to talk about, should try not to think about. Or so I'm told.

I miss having friends, it's true. But having none is better than having fake ones.

People think we're okay now. We both deserve Academy Awards. It's all so plastic, because we're both afraid of confrontation, I guess. God forbid that we should actually say what's on our minds.

I just paid my taxes. H&R Block's offering free e-filing for taxpayers under 50 with an AGI of $52k or less. Money's tight. Voice lessons are okay -- I can feel my throat starting to open up. Everything's just so blah.

It rained today.

When I was in college nothing ever happened to me. I didn't have family around me, didn't have a boyfriend. I would go to the movies by myself just so I could cry. And on rainy days I would sit at the window and watch the raindrops fall, thankful that the heavens were pouring down tears, so I didn't have to.

I cannot tell you why
but it's hard for me to feel
alive.

I guess I've always been this way
I've always felt like I was living
in retrospect
powerless to change
or choose
anything.

I need sleep.

Saturday night was fun: we stayed till the wee morning hours eating Filipino food, talking, drinking, dancing and singing karaoke. I did most of the singing, and they danced and sometimes joined in or gave me a breather. It was an Air Supply night, with Gloria Estefan and the Bee Gees tied for second.

Finally got home and to bed at 2, and was up again at 6 for work. I was numb, cranky and clumsy, but had fun anyway. WE spent the morning condensing Easter, picked up Little Caesar's $5 Hot-N-Ready pizzas for lunch (my brunch, really) and clocked back in for an hour to restock the juice aisle.

Patrick picked me up at the store and we rejoined the rest of the troupe at our usual sushi buffet. After that was souvenir-shopping at Wal-Mart (because the mall was closed), a brisk and bracing hour at the Dallas Arboretum, and dinner at the McKinney residence of another Filipino family. Final goodbyes were at the in-laws', after coffee and tea and Goldilocks' Brazo de Mercedes.

I've been so groggy today, people have been asking me what's wrong. I'm taking Tuesday off.

It's snowing today.

The day before Easter. In Texas.

Ah well. We're off to the in-laws tonight. Some friends of the family are in town for the next week or so. One couple's from Vancouver, the other from LA, and they are raving about the in-laws' house, which would easily be worth a cool million in their respective cities. They only vaguely comprehend that there are no Filipino stores around here, though.

I'm bringing flan tonight, as it is always well-received -- even by the best of cooks. I don't doubt that (aside from dinner) Patrick, Dean and I will be spending the rest of the evening playing Dawn of War: Dark Crusade. It's a Warhammer 40k RTS, and our latest LAN party game.

~*~*~*

In other news, the cat and dog are behaving like, well, cats and dogs. The cat's always trying get get at Cocoa's food, and Cocoa's always offending the cat by trying to sniff at its um, rectum.

But at least they're both eating, unwounded, and in good health.

~*~*~*

I'm definitely doing "Reflection" from Mulan, but I haven't decided if I'm doing the soundtrack version (Lea Salonga's) or the pop one (a la Christina Aguilera). I'm favoring the former.

I still need an up-tempo song. Current favorites are Cher's "The Shoop Shoop Song (It's in His Kiss)" and Deniece Williams' "Let's Hear It For The Boy".

~*~*~*

I'm going to work tomorrow, if only for a few hours. I was planning on bringing the second flan, but I'm beginning to think there won't be any leftovers.

Vocal Gymnastics

So last night was my first vocal gymnastics class. Fun, fireworks, and a bundle of nerves. The "showcase" (i.e., graduation) is in three weeks. I was going to do "Against All Odds", but since the class is small we might do two songs each, in which case I think "Reflection" might be better, and either "Respect" or "Signed, Sealed, Delivered".

Just thinking about the performance has me so nervous I feel sick.

retail therapy

Twelve hours and a few hundred dollars later, I feel much better. It's amazing what a shopping spree, a blended coffee and Krispy Kremes, pad thai, and a cheesecake torte can do.

My usual DSW is overflowing with Steve Maddens and some brand called "Nyla". I happened upon a pair of Nicole Miller's Natalie in luxe chocolate brown. It's the same style as this eBay listing by seller tapsipoodle:



I also saw a pair of Mootsies Tootsies' aptly-named Party Girl. Though the ones I saw were champagne-colored, I remembered admiring a ruby-red pair once on a customer, who said she got them on sale for $20 at Kohl's. Online they only seem available at Peltz Shoes for $27.99 in a black 8M:



It's too bad this was the only color I could find online; in either red or champagne they are fab.