There are times when I distinctly feel like I'm going crazy. And it's not just school and work and boys and feelings that don't make sense and friends and babies and money and debt and lack of sleep and kittens and mammoth puppies and church and family- it's not one of those things- it's not even a few of those things- it's ALL of those things coupled with the thoughts that dominate my day. It's not even that unusual as I've always been this way, at least since puperty hit. Prior to that I was just a cute, quirky little girl with a pretty dominant personality who wasn't remotely shy- which I actually am now, believe it or not. Perhaps shy is not the correct word- insecure, most definitely- reserved, well, maybe not reserved although that is a perception people have until they get to know me and then I start doing cartwheels and skipping for no other reason than I feel like it. That doesn't seem particularly reserved to me. I guess really it's just insecurity, which I know I've stated before but it's true. I've been working on that. It's really hard to get past it. I'll be doing so well for so long and then BAM! I'm crying in the shower in the throws of an insecure pity-party the likes of which NO ONE will ever see me undergo. (Hence, the crying in the shower when I'm the only one at home.)

Am I better person for admitting these things? I don't know. But it's true. Here's something else, when I'm upset and caught off guard, my defence mechanism is to just go ice cold. I won't look at you, I won't talk to you, my eyes ice over (which I must admit they do beautifully), and just a very frosty reserve becomes a wall that I throw up between myself and the other person. It's my defence so that how hurt and upset I am can't really be seen. It's funny, Ice Queen was my persona in high school. Now, I see people that I went to school with and they can't believe that I'm the same person! It wasn't easy to let that go, to be me and be okay with being me. And I am. And that's important.

I learned a very important lesson this weekend, one that at the age of 27, you would have thought I would have learned a long time ago- never, EVER leave your house without at least looking pretty damn cute (aka- make-up on and hair done!) because that is inevitably when you see precisely whom you do not wish to! Young ones, learn from my mistakes!

Today has been such a lovely day, a nice recovery from the previous evening, if I do say so myself. Today, I wrote letters, actual letters involving pen and paper and stamps and everything! When was the last time you actually wrote a real live letter to anyone? I urge everyone to do so. They're just lovely. I bought some cards last night at the Albright. One for my uncle/ godfather who recently turned 50. I didn't forget to send him card or call. Things- namely life- got in the way. I also sent one to my little cousins- Matthew and Ellie. Matthew is 9 and Ellie- my beautiful, beloved goddaughter- is going to be 7. They live in England and I like to let them know that they're much older cousin misses them very much. I also sent a Thank you card to their parents, which is severly overdue as I went to England back in May and I'm just getting to it now. What can I say, I suck at Thank you Cards. And I wrote to my grandmother who I definitely need to write to more. I miss her more than anyone. It makes me smile to think how pleased my Nana and Matt and Ellie will be when they get their letters.

Today, I also went shopping with my mother. It's such a lovely day! Getting cooler now the sun is setting and the moon is already in the sky. It smells amazing out here, like autumn and burning leaves and sun- warmed ground. It makes me sad to think that soon it will be cold all of the time and that smell will have to wait a whole 'nother year. All of the leaves are off the trees and that makes me sad. But some of the apples are still hanging on. They remind of "the Wizard of Oz" when the apple tree slaps Dorothy's hand when she picked one off. That thought makes me smile

And lastly, I cut my hair. It's very fifties-esque. I had this cut eons ago and I liked it so I figured, "What the hell! Why not? It's only hair!" I keep debating whether or not I should dye it. We shall see, we shall see... I hope your day was as lovely as mine.

Ciao!

Little boy, little boy,
Runaway and hide
from the "scary" person
chasing you
through the here and now.

Little boy, little boy
Runaway and hide
from the person who adores you
Although she confesses,
She knows not why.

Little boy, little boy
Runaway and hide
Just go and runaway,
it's what you do best.
Run, run from the light of day.

Every once in a while, I suffer from nightmares, but they're a different kind of nightmare. It's not your typical being chased by Freddie Kreuger through a burning building kind of nightmare. These are different. The first one I ever remember having involved my family in England. I missed them all so much that I woke up crying my eyes out. The second happened when I was living in NYC and it involved the Boy. In that one, I woke up crying, feeling my heart breaking. In both cases, it was something I wanted so very badly and I knew I couldn't have it. The third dream also involved the Boy, and ended up in me waking up in tears, but in that one he got married and I was devastated. Pretty obvious, I guess. This morning was different. This morning, I had a dream in which my mother dropped dead. This morning, I woke up sobbing- just horribly upset by the thought that my mother had died. Thankfully, she's fine- last I checked at least, which was 8 o'clock this morning, but that's such a fear of mine, that something might happen to my parents. And I can rationally pin-point what caused the dream last night. Yesterday, a guy my oldest brother graduated with came into the bank. A couple of months ago, his mother, a really- how shall I put this politely- large woman, did, in fact, have a heart attack and drop dead. That's sad enough but what's really sad is that his father has just given up since his mom died. He's lost the will to live. Both of his parents are only in their fifties. Ugh... the idea of something happening to my parents scares the hell out of me.