I write blog entries in my head. constantly. i have since i was fourteen or maybe earlier. i used to write them down but have not for a few years. i have no proof for the past few... no documentation that my heart feels the same. i look back two years. five. seven. ten. fifteen. and i know and i am fairly certain that six months ago was probably the same but i think i need this again.

this blog is not for you though i will keep it publicish. it will not be witty and the grammar will be embarrassing. if you know how i talk. my actual voice and pauses and syntax then it will make sense. if not, i will not apologize. cannot.

i get this burning in my chest that i think is my heart strings because my heart is most comfortable on my sleeve but needs to be more centered to function. i have problems functioning. i know this. i don't think this is depression but deep emotional feeling that paralyzes. but it is good. it is a feeling that has always been a part of me and i think it is what makes me tick. makes me an artist. makes me connect and love and read books and drink whiskey and want to climb trees and climb mountains and watch people and cry too much. it makes me inactive when i want to be active and active when i want to be inactive. it is a blessing and a curse. i feel these things and i don't know if it is normal. and i don't want to know so don't tell me...

there is a building just east of ours. it gets in my line of vision anytime i try to gaze at the lake. Somewhere around the 30th floor maybe there are boards instead of windows. a woman died in there. She left the toaster on or something. Somehow the toaster burnt her condo down. and killed her. everytime i try to look at the frozen lake, i am haunted by those non-windows.
i hate it so much.

i have never felt as loved and as lucky to have such amazingly good friends as i have this weekend. they have watched me crack but have put me back together again. i am pretty much outright totally effing amazed.
my chest feels lighter. mostly.
it will all work out. it will. it will.

there have been a lot of good thanksgiving memories but never one as perfect as this one. 

i almost cried like seven times. in that really good way...

and my pies kicked fucking ass.

it is thanksgiving. i fell asleep and woke up thinking about the order in which i should make my pies and corn casserole. i am still not positive. i am making butterscotch pumpkin and caramelized apple and pecan. last night i reread the articles and almost shit myself. we will see if i pull these off. it will take time though and i am trying to figure out how i can cram all the things i need to do in the smallest amount of time. i think it goes

prep apples and get them in oven

scotch sauce

roll out pies

one pie goes in freezer one goes in oven with dried beans (?)

make corn casserole

make pie fillings

take corn casserole out of oven

put pies in oven

shower

go!

last thanksgiving was the perfect amount of stress and happiness. we have a video that does not show nick making me cry. scotty making steph cry. my coworker doesn't leave early and you can't tell that everyone was just a little awkward because the mix was just a little too large. the video would make me cry if i watched it right now so i wont. 

my wife wasn't there last year. we had dueling thanksgiving and went over there later but it was the start or middle of some awkwardness.

that is done now and i am glad. i will go to her house with my pies and corn casserole later and i will drink my scotch and create more memories.

this starts the holiday season. which i love. there are parts that suck and annoy the fuck out of me but the optimist takes over and i am reminded that we are all trying. as effing hard as we can.

and it is hard to show people we love them. and are thankful. but we are. and maybe someday we will figure it out.

i like brooklyn.

and new york in generals.

i wont live here. i tell people i wont until i can do it right. which means i barely make a living in chicago and trying to scrape by in new york depresses me because it holds so much and i would want to do it all. and buy pretty dresses.

today was good.

i wrote at a coffeeshop. got super lost and never went to rockafeller center. did make it to bryant park. and central park. i got a hot dog on the street. kyle was grossed out. a cupcacke from magnolia. pizza while drunk. played the most intense game of dress up since i was maybe seven. walked in alphabet soup in a super super hella short dress. drank the equivalent of three bottles of wine. and yeah. oops... i am drunk...

oh and i got my eyebrows threaded. it looks hott.

the experiences that have made me who i am. abridged.

missing recess to go to speech therapy twice a week for four years of elementary school

bonfires at horse creek ranch

my scoliosis hunch

shows at new earth coffee

becoming a vegetarian in england

being surrounded by riot gear in dc while sitting in some famous square

debating religion with mrs. lopez

having the door broken down in my first apartment

shutting down lakeshore drive in protest of the iraqi war beginning

having my identity stolen

basement shows at the house of raw sugar

deciding to move to a city i had never visited

san francisco women against rape

thai brunch in berkeley 

pissing in the bathroom at hatties

my sister in the hospital

six months back in kansas city

learning to make a perfect latte

going back to college

there are more. but i have no perspective on the last five years. maybe when i am thirty i will understand what is happening to me right now. everything above fits like puzzle pieces in my head. they make sense but they didn't at the time.

that means there is hope! there is hope for the future.