Motivation, Music & Me

My bizzare streak of productivity and motivation continues. Tonight I made dinner, ordered Insanity, showered, dried my hair and cleaned my bathroom, all before 9:30. Very strange. Maybe not for normal people, but since I've proven time and time again that I'm nowhere near normal, this is weird. I almost feel normal. It's kinda nice! But I'm still on my guard and skeptical about whether or not this will stick.

Hmm. I just took a moment to rock out a bit, and when I turned around there was Narnia, staring at me from the corner. Creepy.

To what am I rocking out? "Drumming Song" by none other than Florence + The Machine. It came on Pandora the other day, and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since, thus resulting in the purchase of F+TM's first album "Lungs," and that purchase was the impetus behind the CD post  yesterday. As a whole I believe I prefer "Ceremonials," but "Lungs" has its merits and "Drumming Song" is one of them. So is "Blinding."

In the liner notes of "Ceremonials" is a quote from Florence with which I wholeheartedly agree:

"The music is so euphoric as a way of battling the words. It's like an exorcism, beating it out with drums, shake this demon out, it's so visceral because the melancholy has to be drummed out. I can't let it sit inside me." - Florence Welch

That about sums it up. It's exactly how I feel, perhaps why I identify with her music so much. I wish I had said it. I wish I had written her music. I guess I could write my own songs, but I've lived in fear of doing such a thing for years now, even though I can sing, write music and pen lyrics fairly well. It's the fact that I can not create matching music and lyrics to save my life. Anyway, it's silly of me to even think about it because it'll never happen.

Anyway, I like music that absorbs me. For those few minutes, I become a part of it, losing myself. Complete immersion. Try it: 1) Go here. 2) Close your eyes.

Now you know why I didn't leave the computer until the song was over the other night. Perfection.

And this is what imperfection looks like:

Sweet dreams, kids.

Zippity Do Da

Good morning!

Remember how last night I was amazed at my desire to become a part of society again? Well after that, I went to my room, rocked out to some Florence + The Machine, and - are you ready for this - cleaned. Not in the strictest sense of the word, I didn't break out the vacuum, but I sorted laundry and put stuff back in my closet and by the end of it, I could see my floor.

My tendency to be a little messy is usually directly correlated to my mental state. Right now I don't have any furniture, so things like books and my teapot collection are just hanging out in a corner on the floor. It can't be helped. So my room is as neat and tidy as it can be for now.

It feels a little strange...real, functioning human emotions, and now the sudden urge to be in a more organized environment.

I woke up in a dandy mood, too. We'll see where this goes...I can't tell if it's real or not.

Eeek, gotta run. Time for work.

Who Even Buys CDs Anymore?

I do. And I'm not referring to a low-interest savings account.

I mean those round, plasticky things that you stick in a device and get music in return. Those things.

Buying a CD is a labor of love. Not only do you shell out your hard-earned cash for it, there's manual labor involved once you get it to the car (waiting til I get home is never an option). First you look it over, looking for any obvious weak spots in the plastic wrapping. Of course there aren't any, so you try opening it with your nails, keys, teeth...anything sharp enough to tear through one of the corners. This is especially tricky if you've purchased the "Deluxe" edition that cost extra because it came in a cardboard case and has 4 extra tracks. Obviously, you don't want to damage your brand-new cardboard investment.

Once you've managed to wrestle the plastic off, the real fun begins. The plastic is a tease, a transparent lie that allows you to see the object of your desire. Once it's off you remember that the darn thing is still sealed shut because someone decided that adding a sticker that is practically permanently affixed to the case itself was a good idea. I hope I never meet that person. I don't know what I would do to him or her, but glaring will be involved. I mean, really? A sticker that takes great amounts of patience and skill to detach? It doesn't come off in one clean piece either, it rips and breaks up into a dozen tiny pieces that you can't get off your fingers. And you pick, and you peel, and you pray, and you curse, and you plead until you get it all off...and realize that the piece you just removed was a 'pull' tab that quite possibly could have given you 10 minutes of your life back.

But was it worth it? For your sake, I hope so.

I've taken longer hours at Job #2, mostly eliminating Job #1. I'll be doing things here and there for a few hours, but that's it. Right now I definitely have enough to keep me occupied at Job #2, which will be referred to as "my job" from here on out. Anyway, it's only Tuesday and mentally, I'm beat. It's been a long time since I've sat in front of a computer for 7 hours straight. The irony in this is that obviously, I'm writing to you from a computer.

Look, I have big, unruly hair! And it's parted on the side! I'm really living on the edge, aren't I?

Today I caught myself lamenting the fact that I don't get many texts/phone calls/Facebook messages/personal email. What?! It was so strange...I actually missed being Miss Social Butterfly. I haven't cared to interact with anyone but my closest friends and family (and not even all of my family) since I've been home. Part of that was because I was still in shock over not having the option to have friends or family for so long.

Could it be that I'm starting to really recover from my isolation? I'm gregarious by nature but that was squashed right out of me. I can feel it coming back...I know that my anxiety will probably never fully go away, but I hope the fear of people does. It's kind of scary and exciting at the same time, and explains the weird mood I've been in the past couple of days.

I should probably tell my therapist.

Pardon Me While I Keep Talking

I'm feeling extra chatty today. Hope you don't mind. Of course, if you're even reading this, and beyond that, reading it with any regularity, then it's obvious you dont mind my babbling.

Yesterday one of my friends posted a typical April Fool's Day joke. You know, the one where they change their Facebook status to "engaged" or something along those lines. One of the comments to this supposed relationship change was someone saying that she bet they were registered at Staples.

Could you imagine such a thing? If you could register at Staples, I would be the happiest girl in the world. I walk through Staples with the same awe and reverence that most girls reserve for Tiffany's. I think my version of the famed movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's" would be "Lunch at Staples." Except I wouldn't be a call girl. Anyway, I found the most amazing notebook while I was there just a bit ago. It was divided into 3 sections, one lined, one graph and one blank. I believe my jaw may have actually dropped. It was amazing. And pretty. If you don't know about my obsession with notebooks, go here. I didn't buy it...you know, the whole being-a-responsible-adult-who-has-better-things-to-spend-her-money-on thing.

I haven't posted a picture in a while...

The fuzzy thing in the bottom right corner is Narnia. How I love her.

I kept it simple today; black dress, black sweater. One thing to note is that I don't particularly care for this dress. It has princess seams and I just don't find them flattering. But I was in desperate need of variety, so I wore it.

Yesterday marked 3 months of this whole skirt/blog thing! And you know what, I wore the exact same outfit I did on January 1st...on accident. It's weird, I hardly think about it anymore. It's all become normal...wearing skirts and blogging about life are now normal parts of my routine. I may not write every day because I sometimes have stuff to do (or don't have anything to say), but I can assure you that I haven't cheated on my wardrobe.

My stomach is telling me it's time for dinner...I guess I should listen.

So Close I Can Taste It...

One year ago today, I received a phone call that would change my life...for the worse. The night of April 2, 2011, I was contentedly watching Yentl with my mother when my phone rang with an unfamiliar number on the caller ID. I answered it because it was a familiar area code, and I thought there was a good chance it was someone that I knew and actually wouldn't mind talking to.

I was wrong.

It was the ex on the other line. The ex he was living with. The ex who, for some reason, felt it necessary to intervene when he was falling to pieces because I wasn't in his life anymore. To spare you the gory details, this phone call resulted in a "reconciliation" that never, EVER should have happened. I lost everything.

I am happy (and almost proud) to say that today has another marker, and that is that I signed my final divorce papers today. I still have to wait for the return of his signatures, and who knows when that will be, but the end is very, very near. The taste of complete freedom is going to be so sweet.

Let's have a few niece-isms to lighten the mood, shall we?

Niece: Can I pet Narnia?
Aunt Bekah: Sure! (Brings cat over)
Niece: Pet her softly!

Ladies and gents, my niece knows how to use adverbs. I'm so proud.

Aunt Bekah: Were you naughty today?
Niece: YEAH!

Niece: (softly) ruff! ruff! ruff!
Aunt Bekah: Are you a puppy?
Niece: Yep! *giggle* ruff! ruff!

The little monster is now doing her whole screechy/giggly/yelly bit...and I just had her on my lap to discover that she smelled like vomit. Why? She gagged herself after drinking milk. Lovely. I made a joke about it, saying to at least do it in the toilet...I got some dirty looks about that. But as a former bulimic, I can tell you that dairy products are pretty gross on the way back up. I hope she found the experience less than pleasureable and never, ever does it again.

Oh, yeah. Here's one more for you. I was playing with her and tried to crawl into her tent. Her response as my rear half didn't make it in quite as planned?

 "Aunt Bekah's so big! It's ok!"

Just what I needed, a reminder from a toddler that I have a big butt.

But it's ok. :)