deviantart DOT com is addictive. I signed up to see what it was about, and I've spent most of my week lurking there. Got my own page with some of my photos and poetry posted for all the world to see. But my favorite part is looking at everyone else's stuff. Very, very cool.

Feeling artsy, and with a desperate need to spend some of that cash I had left over from paying off my debt, we went shopping New Years Day. I bought 2 pieces of art. You know that Jia Liu sitting up there at the top of the page? I am now the proud owner of that piece. OK, of the postcard, signed and framed. Cost me $60. It was worth it.

I also got a new print by this guy me and JP like. I can't remember his name. I thought I had written about him here and tried digging through old entries to find his name, with no luck. *sigh* I bought my 3rd photo of his. He likes colorful doors of Europe or Mexico. Beautiful stuff. Wish I could at least scan it so you guys could see, but it's framed and all, and I think trying to scan it like that would just give you a nice square of glare. Sorry. His stuff is really beautiful. So much color and life, without a person in sight.

So anyway, my mind hasn't been in it's right place lately. I just seem to be down about everything. Maybe it's because I'm between things? I haven't done jack shit to get somewhere to volunteer this quarter. And part of me thinks that's all well and good, because maybe I should just skip this quarter. And I am deathly afraid of that little voice in the back of my head. Because no matter how many reasons I can come up for wanting to take a break this quarter, I know that I'll never go back if I do that. Well, never's a long time. But once I drop out of the routine, I'm the kind of person to not pick it up again.

I want to stick with the routine. But the routine got fucked up, and I don't know how to piece it back together without undue stress.

And I'm still very stressed about dealing with stress right now. The simple idea of having too much stress on my place can make me wig right now. I think I should stop messing with my meds and remember to take them every day. And go see my damn shrink. Haven't seen her in weeks coz I skipped a session for some reason I can't recall, and them WHAM! the holidays hit.

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty low and stupid. Like I'm this close to shooting myself in the foot and I don't want to, but something about it feels appealing.

And then I go snooping around a place like DA and I get all envious. I swear, I feel like a damn poser. I've called myself a writer since I was 12, and when was the last thing I wrote anything? My newest poetry is over a year old, with the exception of some juvenile haiku I did a few months ago just for kicks. I have no idea why I don't take pictures anymore. The people who can just post shit every day or every week just blow my mind.

So I get into this kick, where it's like adrenaline shooting through me or something, and I'm so jazzed, I just have to create something. Except, I don't know what to create. If I had a dick, I would get a hard on every time I look at a fresh sheet of paper. I just have this need to fill it with something. With words. No matter what.

So here i am, writing in this damn journal about my inadequacies YET AGAIN. All I ever do in this journal anymore is complain. I used to feel creative with it some days. I had a little audience. I don't think anyone reads this anymore, and I wouldn't want them too, because the entries has somehow become even MORE self-pitying than they were before!

Oh, and get this. I was trying to rework some stuff in my novel. A weird inconsistency occurred to me and I had to do something about it. But what I changed required lots of shit to rewrite or insert, meaning lots of rereading it.

And suddenly, I'm not so proud of this thing anymore. All my main characters do is fight with each other, to the point of being nauseating. OK, I've read this thing 30 times now or something, so maybe that's why it's nauseating. But why hadn't I noticed it before? I don't know how to rewrite it. I don't think I want to rewrite it. And now this thing I thought was incredible is looking more like dressed-up Poo.

I tried to console myself with murmurs about how me & my husband fight all the time, so maybe that's just the passionate side of their relationship coming out. Maybe. Except it was sounding pretty damned pathetic the other day. FUCK.

My husband is amazing. Maybe I should talk about him. We had interesting sex before Christmas that I wanted to write about, but I don't want to write about anything in our relationship that we haven't talked to each other about first. But I'm kind of shy about talking to him about it. I'm such a wuss.

Anyway, after sex, he said something about his workout that day, and we're laying there all naked and sweaty, and I just started crying. Why? Because he was talking about how when he was working out he was thinking about fucking me, and he was working out with HER. The idea of him thinking about me while he's with her made me kind of sick to my stomach, and I just started crying.

He cornered me in the bathroom after I'd claimed to be going for a post-coital pee. he gave me hugs and was so sweet. I was starting to cry all over again because I'm getting sick about being so jealous and evil and psycho about it. And he said it was only natural, and I wasn't a psycho, and he understood.

I have so many reasons to have trust issues. It's nice of him to acknowledge that he's added to the reasons. Nice for him to be understanding.

So back in the bedroom getting dressed, I asked him again. I must ask him this every couple of months, especially after I cry: why the fuck is he with me? I think I'm such a psycho, and he just takes it and says he loves me no matter what. usually, he's very bad at this, so I always feel like a moron for bringing it up the 10 thousandth time. But you know what he said this time? We went from love to attracttion, and I said I'm all fat and icky and he said I wasn't. he said he was attracted to me. And I'm like: WHY??? And he's like, well... how can I? OK, you know when we're having sex and your on your knees and I'm behind you? Sometimes I have too look away because you're TOO arousing.

That fucking BLEW my mind. I had this dumb, stupified look on my face for the longest time trying to overcome the shock. He thought his comment was lame for some reason, so he said a couple of times I could stop giving him looks. I finally came to and told him that was the most amazing thing anyone's ever said to me.

This is the man who says I smile like Julia Roberts. How lucky am I? My husband is so amazing.

last - next