winterize

I've become so warm...
so very warm.

The kind of warm, that melts the glacier
surrounding my heart...
instead of winterizing with a quart
of anti-freeze...

I belong in the burn unit,
with the fire you’ve lit underneath
my skin.

Patron and Twinkies

Christmas is a time of confession.
I mean, I have to be on my best behavior for Santa, right?

Well… I have a big one to admit. Sort of… I mean, let me explain.

I wrote a blog about this time last year about love. Just general thoughts/feelings on love/relationships. It was not a declaration. It was not a manifesto. More like a statement of feeling. SO… With that being said, here is my confession.

I, Stacy Swinney, have plagiarized my own writing to create a not so original love letter. I copied and pasted the following blog entry into an email and sent it off to a suitor who requested to know my feelings for him. Well, seeing is how I didn’t have feelings for the suitor, I couldn’t write something amazing and original… I instead was lazy and chose to copy/past and change a couple of pronouns.

Now maybe dear readers, you are horrified.
Or rolling in the aisle with laughter… Either way, I now have posted this here with the intention of making this a copy/paste love letter for all to have and enjoy. Feel free to edit it and make it your own.
I have also found out, with continual changes of pronouns it makes a great Dear John a.k.a. break up letter. It takes a bit more work… but it is worth it for the gentle yet firm you-don’t-light-my-fire let down that Hallmark doesn’t make.

And look! I have done this just in time for the holidays.
Need that NYE kiss? Send here this. Want to ditch the zero before NYE and start with a clean slate? Look no further.

Stacy Swinney’s Copy/Paste Love Letter
(or Dear John Letter)

There is only one question we need to ask ourselves: who knows how to make love stay? (Because, you see, its rare. it’s rare for it to last and it’s rare to find).
If you answer me that, I can tell you rather or not to kill yourself; if you answer me that I can ease your mind about time, space and the beginning/ending of time; if answer me that and I can tell you the purpose of the moon.

Above all of things, this, love, this infatuation is nothing but a patina glaze over the previous encounters. The encounters that had all but short of the lasting impression in pressed memories of vulture shadows and wolf howls, cocaine highs and explosives... and then some.
I've been nothing but burned, till now-- I think, and thusly I have a black belt in haiku and was practically a waitress at the last supper (thus enabling me to start over with our breakfast)... I have been through heart-break boot camp and now am a counselor in training. .

don’t think I am lamenting the fact that I have been loved, lost, fucked, found, beaten, broken and left standing alone... barely, but alone on my own two feet with all ten toes and ten fingers intact.
from all my lessons learned I know only this: I thought I knew what love was and how to make it stay, but now, I haven’t got a clue-- I am completely stupid on the subject, like convex vectors and how to translate homer.

But I did come up with way to try to convince love stay (aside from access to my bank account, pin 4456) 1) I’m telling love I am going to the sick deli off Franklin to get sandwiches and cheesecake, if it stays, love can have half (but that deli closed like a mo0nth or two ago so that is out. OR I have to find another equally great Italian style deli.). 2) Well... haven’t thought of a second one... even more so now that the first is out of commission.

Maybe a better way to put it is, the prince really IS a toad and you, the princess just has a reptile fetish OR even better, the princess has halitosis. People are never perfect but love can make you over look that; and the only way that the mediocre and vile are transformed by finding such a love (or an equally vile or mediocre person to attach too). Point being, loving makes love. Making it work makes love.

Or maybe; somehow love is this mythical ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to the rules. The most any of us can do is sign on to be an accomplice, a partner in crime... and accessory. Instead of vowing honor to obey maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question and the words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate and no longer apply in this reality.

My love for you is free. Love for you is no strings attached; no back end deals with conditions or punishments but no strings attached in the purest sense of those words.
I thought hard. I thought I might want to follow you to the ends of the earth. And I could, if Columbus hadn’t fixed that.

I bet you are reading this, slightly confused, and a little amused. Glaring at the screen the way I glare when I need a vice fix: a smoke, a bite, coffee, piece of ass or fast story... and instead I get philosophy... or bad art. Or Wu-Tang.

So here, I sit, typing away spouting off random thoughts of love and the life altering/ending impacts they have and how to avoid the latter of the two choices. I sigh. I should be doing anything but this. Looking for a job, mending my life, figuring my shit out. I should... do whatever.
But I want this out and off of my chest.

So here I am, praying to Elmer, the Greek god of glue, that this sticks and it works.

All I want is someone to shoot patron and eat Twinkies with me. ;)

Pop Culture Infiltrates Life

I’m a big fan on honesty.

I mean, for the most part, it’s what each of us deserves right?

Well, sometimes other people’s honesty goes too far. It borders on too much information. And really, there are something’s that I have NO desire to know about.

Perfect example is a 334AM text message saying: “Smile like you mean it. I am in love with someone else.”

I had to read it twice it was so insane.

And then, my thought process was, “did you just quote the killers.” Followed by “wtf.”

That is when I saw the timestamp stating it was 334. At which point, I am sure this new “love” is not in the picture… and if he/she is, they have no idea that you are texting me when you should be sleeping/fucking or doing anything but texting yours truly.

The same morning at a more normal hour (11ish) I re-read this. And start to formulate the perfect answer back… using lyrics from The Killers. Because, I have the image of this guy searching painstakingly through the discography of The Killers catalogue trying to find the perfect line to sum up his… triumph? Of getting over the relationship and moving on… (This btw, as everyone knows was over before this. And he originally ignored the initial break-up) which took till 3am.

So here are the answers I considered sending:

“Mr. Brightside”

“Believe me, Natalie”

“Andy, You’re a Star”

“Nobody Dances with Michael”

“Somebody (already) Told Me”

“This Is Your Life”

“Goodnight, Travel Well” (the winner, in my book)

“Forget What I Said”

“I Can’t Stay”

In the end, I sent nothing.

Why open up that kind of damaging communication when my life is going perfectly fine, and this person tried to disrupt the universe.

So yea…

Between that and a series of unwarranted “imissyou” “istillthinkaboutyouallthetime” “icantlivewithoutyou” messages; there was a trifecta of crazy going on in text land. This is not fun for me.

But I powered through.

And got 2.5 minutes of amusement out of it.

thoughts

Just the thought…

If there was only one it would be so much easier. But instead, I am raked back by constant bombardment of thoughts and emotions that crash down in such swells that I am convinced I will crumble and erode away into some cavernous abyss where I will ultimately be labyrinth-ly lost.

The thoughts, they race, they are not competing but merely swirling and stewing in the cauldron of my mind… that I apparently left over the fire too long and now everything is this unidentifiable mush that looks like something that may or may not have carrots and potatoes in it.

Am a caught off guard by the magnitude of what I am feeling.

Because I have no way to approach, organize or even process them. The feelings rise up behind my eyes and burn. In the way only true things do burn from with in.

And instead of going with my instincts and trusting what nearly every fiber of my being is telling me. I cross-reference it… try to compartmentalize it and truss it up to be something else… anything else than what I know it might be.

And I know, that’s wrong. I know that that is not the right thing to do. I know where that puts me… smack in the middle of nonsensical circular logic.

But at the same time, how do you ignore something or even just accept something that is setting off so many DIFFERENT alarms. It’s like, even when the smoke detector goes off, you sniff for smoke, even if you know its just the cheese in the bottom of the oven, that has flaked off from the dozens of pizzas you made, burning, and re-burning. YOU KNOW it’s not a fire, you know its pizza. But you still double check.
And you are totally reassured that yes, yes, that is pizza in the oven… and damn, I am ready for some pizza.

finite?

One would have thought I had exhausted my capacity for emotion…Then you came along.

oh wow... that was easy?

So yesterday, I felt like a bigger failure than Bridget Jones...
And today... I am a little more Andrea Sachs.

I guess it really is "darkest before the dawn" or some other equally appalling analogy.
Literally, I mean last night I was pretty upset about my current situation (save for a couple of bright spots-- you know who you are and I am pretty sure I owe you my life in exchange for you unwavering support) and attempted to cure it with brownies and the Hills (p.s. wtf Speidi?! not to mention of girls like that, can get those kinds of jobs... why couldn't I get something. p.p.s. never use The Hills as a gauge for progress in your own life, it's dangerous.)

And this morning, I wake up to a "we would like to hire you" phone call. So, yea, things have turned upward most dramatically.
Just in time for me to blow my money on Christmas.
Which, honestly I can't wait to do. I mean... I have some people who really deserve something fairly amazing in the form of gifts.
But I am getting ahead of myself, Black Friday is still a couple of weeks away.

"What else can I say, I guess I am doing o.k"

I'll Take On WoW

This is my response to this piece by Tyler Curry on McSweeneys.

*please note, this is just a creative piece, it have nothing to do with anything*

So, thanks a lot, Chris. I really wanted to read about your take on our World of Warcraft stand off on your guild forum. But then again, that is what happens when I let you use MY computer, you left the window open. Just so you know, I wasn’t trying to get the keyboard through the monitor; you just happened to duck before it hit your head. Then you headed to the corner to cower. Seriously for being a brave “druid-master-magic-whatever” I thought you would have put up a little more resistance.

And you are still very much addicted to World of Warcraft. Don’t deny it. I mean you spend hours a day on this silly game. Yes, Chris, it is a game. A GAME. I would recommend a 12-step program for you—but I think it would only result in the sharing of “codes” or “spells.”

I would have let the library slide, but Chris, this is the third time you’ve done it. And yes, you should have know the library closed at 8, but apparently if it doesn’t come from the mouth of an elf-gnome-fairy-dragon it doesn’t matter and its not worth remembering. Oh you can remember where you got every piece of armor and how much you paid for it but nooooo you cant for the life of you (or your character) remember what time I asked you to pick me up. The crime rate in that neighborhood doesn’t really matter, I admit I exaggerated that part, it’s not safe to leave a girl alone in the dark for that long.

I don’t care that I was forgotten for a whole drove of gnomes or their stupid village. I don’t care that you were healing them for the “greater good.” I am your fiancée. We share a home. A bed. And if you would like to continue this arrangement you might want to consider who you need to saving. And seriously, if you quote Spock one more time…

I will remember this Chris, the freezing rain and being left behind for gnomes. I might magically forget to pay the cable bill and then where will you be? Internet-less Chris, that’s where.

You and you guild forum… Claim you don’t know the powers of Photoshop all you want. That’s fine, play dumb. I can’t believe that you posted those pictures! Never mind all the other totally normal and sober pictures we have TOGETHER, but no you pick the one from the party the girls threw me after we announced our engagement. Thanks. Thanks a lot. Don’t even get me started on you getting me fired, again. Seriously, how do I explain my fiancées abuse of World of Warcraft is what got me fired from my last two jobs?

Chris, I honestly don’t care about your World of Warcraft needs—any more than you care about mine of needing to be picked up out of the freezing rain, or from the airport.

I don’t know if you know this, but the real world does not care how many pieces of flair your character got from the bald eagle. Does your therapist know about your little “habit” or have you neglected to mention that at all? I am sure its totally normal for a man your age to be diligently clicking away instead of looking over your expense reports. And thanks for blabbing about my mom to the entire World of Warcraft world. There sympathy is non existent, unless it revolves around some fallen comrade.

As for the “blood elf” hooker I caught you with… it is sick. It is perverted. And that you called me by HER name is no coincidence. I think we might have to establish for “role-playing” rules. What do I have to do Chris, do I have make my own sexy-druid-elf character for you? Will that make you happy? Oh, it would… too bad Chris, I can’t do it. I can’t devote that much time to something that IS NOT REAL.

Warchief Thrall doesn’t have to wake up to your morning breath. Warchief Thrall doesn’t have to worry about your watermelon allergy. Warchief doesn’t have to deal with your mother. I don’t care that 8 months ago you made some silly allegiance online. YOU put the ring on my finger, aren’t I the one you need to be supporting… especially since YOU got me fired, again.

I hope you enjoyed this last “quest” because, sweetie, by the time you read this… I will have paid someone within your guild, with your gold to kill your character.

Thinking...

My sleep sched is a wreck!
I mean, it's my own fault for not doing important things like going to bed at a decent time. But so what, you only live once (that we know of) and you can sleep when you're dead, right? Right. So yea, going to bed before 1am is overrated, and frankly, I feel, unproductive.
I am sure this would change if my time was not divided up between doing nothing and working on my freelance writing projects.
And, this weekends zombie movie extravaganza probably did not help any. But hey, how often do you get to dress like a goth kid and then mega-morph into a zombie (ok for me, just this once). It was a blast! So fun. I was only an extra, but then had the privilege of being in charge of doing zombie make-up and costume fixes.
I was very much a Jane of all trades on the set.
I hope I get the make up credit... if not, oh well...
I will MOST definitely post a link if not the whole thing via youtube here.

Moving on....
actually no, there isn't much to move on to... just me being me.

I write, I photograph... and that's really all there is.

Umm... What just happend?

My life just fell into my lap.

I somehow managed to land a job doing what I love to do.....
Does this actually happen to people? Do you really ACTUALLY get to do what you want, and get paid for it? It seems a bit... too good to be true. I mean MAYBE I am just over thinking it a little bit... yea. I am.

So yea...

I got what I wanted...



and am now waiting to eaten alive by Alsatians.

Get a life. You have untill March.

I think that its time I fill up a dart board with goals and start chucking darts (seeing is how I have no knack for them) and see where they land. Job, Home... simple categories like that. And perhaps whatever I collect the most of is the one I should pursue.
Since my "logical" attempt has only landed me interview after interview only to have a second interview but no job follow through.

I feel angry and sad, for the most part... and mostly for myself, which I am sure makes me a very very selfish girl. I mean, looking back; I like to think I did everything right. I got good grades in high school, went on to college (didn't party too much, studied hard, and worked harder). I loped up every mountain that parents, teachers, mentors and counselors put before me. And now, after my extended soul-searching-sabbatical I am still near the top and I am lacking all the things I am expected to have in hand or by my side.
I have no great job or budding career. I have no beginning brood of children or husband (my friends, or former friends are on that track as well).
I guess I shouldn't compare myself to them... we are not the same people. But didn't we all go through the same motions, graduate, college, graduate and start your life?
I can re-evaluate my situation. I mean, I don't wish to be married as of yet, NOR do I wish to even think about starting a family. So, strike that off the list of things driving me crazy.
Career wise, most seem happy... or at least content enough to stick through it till the next promotion or op comes along.
But instead of near the top of the mountain like I pretend to be, am I actually in the ditch somewhere off the beaten path?

I haven't a clue.
I just daily throw myself into the arduous task of finding a job to start my career with.
Daily.
What better training for further down the road then the copious amounts of rejection I face on a weekly basis? Surely, my skin shall thicken up and eventually the sound of "we have found someone else" will just sound like elevator muzak.


Or... someone will hire me.

Together yet....

He plays WoW... You read Oates....

You Bore Me More Than Star Warz

I don't really know how else to say this... you bored me.
And you managed to do it in such a way that it came across as safe, instead of insanely dull. I guess, I am the only one I can fault for this act. I let myself be coerced by you into thinking YOU somehow were the one I "needed" instead of myself or my friends or my family.
Shame on you.

And from that point on, in the words of New Found Glory, its all down hill from here. I mean from that point on I was constantly convincing myself that "need you". And well, frankly, I didn't and seriously don't.
I need me. I need to be me. And by letting you forcefully make me ignore all the screaming alarms in my head... I was not being me. And that is one of the cardinal sins of the Church of Stacy (always be thy self).

There were other things too... I don't want to get into those, because the way YOU got in the way of me being ME, i could fill novels with.

See, I think YOU thought you were doing a good thing. "Being there for me," but, really, I didn't ask you to be there for me. I didn't have to. You did that to yourself by an all-day-every-day barrage of calls and text messages. No one needs that much communication with anyone.
Now, you say you don't do this. I have enough info saved on my phone to prove that wrong. I was to the point where I could not look at my phone and not want to pray a semi ran it over after I tossed it against the wall.
Sure, communication is key in ANY relationship. But the constant checking up (oh yes, I said it) and wanting to know EVERYTHING from so far away... is insanity. It drove me to the point where the only way I thought I could effectively communicate with you was with a steady string of expletives and yelling like a lunatic. And that simply is not me. That has never been me. And the fact that YOU drove me to that... says a whole lot about you.

I am sure as you read this you wonder, why didn't she tell me. I did tell you. I asked politely. I told you nicely. Ultimately, you chose to ignore and completely disrespect the simple yet finite boundries I gave you. "Please do not call or text me." It is that simple. Do Not, simply means don't-fucking-do-it.
Oh sure, I was out of line, maybe, with the one ended ultimatum of "If you do not respect this we are done." But, seeing is how you ignored that and continued to message me and make attempts to talk to me I was clearly right. You needed such a boundary to really test you ability to follow simple English instructions, I think my dog could understand that command "No more barking"... kinda the same thing.

At the end of it all, with you torturing yourself with the string of questions about my life... did you find that helpful? Do you sleep better at night? Or do you lie awake dreaming of the day you can weasel your way back into my vicinity? Hoping you can charm your way back to me? Because you certainly can't afford to buy it back, and personality only gets you so far in some instances.

So, in case it is STILL unclear for you: in order for me to be me, I have to be completely without you.

Another Day

OK... so once again, I find myself.
I was slightly to the left of where I left myself the time before... Don't you hate when that happens?

Moving on.

Its been a really fun weekend... with the paying of bills, the losing of my wallet AND its magical return to me by a really nice person, and finally a second interview with a company I am really excited about.
Also, I decided, I don't spend enough time with me... So what do I decide to do?
I trim down my life.

I moved away from things that were distracting me, and taking my time away from myself and my never ending quest to find "desirable" employment. And now, after this mornings ordeal with the cell phone company, I think, all in all, it was the best thing I could have done for myself.

You can NOT convince me otherwise.
Sorry. Actually, no, I'm not sorry. This had to be done... And I didn't see a better solution. And I don't frankly care how high your IQ is, or how many other "better solutions" anyone could come up with.
I am right. You are wrong.

Now, with that out of the way, today the second interview went really well. And I am supposed to hear from them tomorrow. So, I'm crossing my fingers and PRAYING that this will be my well shined shoe in the door back into the writing arena. And, if it's not...

Then it's not.
I'll cross that bridge if it comes to it.

Bills... Anyone?

So, with moving across the country, it takes a little time for all your bills to show up.

And most people check theirs online, ya know, as so payments are not late.
mmmhmmm.
Yea, with the dial up connection and my life seemingly to be unraveling with a barage of texts, emails, and an endless aray of job interviews... I over-looked looking up when and how much my bills were.
Silly, I know.
Careless, yea, that too.

All are past due.
AND I don't have a hard copy, I just looked it all up. And let me tell you.

THOSE ARE NOT A PRETTY SET OF NUMBERS!

So.
Before I go into this next interview, I set here, in a financial state of panic, not really sure of what to do... I might run to the self-help section of the library and cry.
No one will find me there, and maybe I could learn how to pull this stuff together... I gal can hope right?

But instead, I will chalk this one up to my own careless-ness and un-awareness. It was my mistake, these are my bills.

oooopps?
yea, BIG oops.

Just another day in the life of someone TRYING to get their life back together when the economy, is like it is.
YES!!

There is my answer, blame the economy!

'Cause, You Know... Life is Fair.

Lets all pretend for a moment that life is fair.
Totally unabashedly 100% fair. (yea, I know its not)

Say, there is this lovely-amazing-talented person who is hard-working-dedicated and does everything they can to further themselves (not selfishly NOR destroying those around them). Say this SAME person has been... un-employed for an (seemingly) overwhelming amount of time.

This person in question... might have finally caught a break.
Maybe.
Too bad they are hesitant and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Time Out

So, I took a mental health day the other day and drove around, went to a movie and went to Lowe's.

What I like best about movies, is that for TWO hours, I am not in my own life. Even if the one i chose was well... a silly house with a bunch of chicks with image complexes. But hey, House Bunny was TOTALLY worth that $2.25.

home again home again jiggity jig

This is where I write the blog about just how WONDERFUL it is to be home.

All things considered, I should. I should write THAT blog.
But I won't.

Instead, I write about how the dial up connection is affecting my life.
And as you can see, the total by the total lackthereof of blogging...

My point is clear.

Last Night

Last night, was my last night in California.

I have to say... it went out with a bang.

Seriously.

With a perfect view of the Celebrity Scientology Center from the fire escape; I watched Shafts Memorial Service.

He died the day after Bernie Mac... somehow we over looked Shaft?!

So. 

It is with seeing that, surviving my first earthquake and actually seeing it rain in southern California... I think it couldn't have ended better.