Today, the Llamas Returned

The llama tale began four years ago. A simple word. Random animal. Inside joke with the nice side effect of driving me crazy. Soon, however, I was hooked, and somehow, I was able to snare multiple others.

Last year, llama farms seemed to pop all over in the area. Two within five miles of where I live.

Random people would tell me that they drove past llama farms all the time.

Why all of a sudden are there llamas in Wisconsin?

Oh well. Not complaining.

But "my" llamas (the ones that live right down the road from me) went away for the winter.

I don't know where they went, but once it snowed, the llamas went bye bye.

So we figured the llamas would come back once it got warm. We first noticed them last year around April. April came this year and no llamas. May, no llamas. By now I was threatening to hurt the people if they harmed those wonderful, graceful, majestic llamas.

But, the llamas finally returned.

So I'm happy.

In the meantime...

I totally pysched myself out for the real world. I couldn't sleep the night before. The whole day at the office I had a headache and felt like I was going to throw up.

Today, at Day 3, I am still keenly aware of all the stuff I don't know. But I feel some relief, and look forward to the day when it will all be familiar.

I just need to keep turning to my sources of constant support, and have them remind me why I'm at this point in the first place.

It will improve...but in the meantime it's awefully scarey.

Just like meantimes usually are.

Tomorrow I start work.

I'm terrified. I'm terrified for tomorrow, the next day, two years from now ... it's the real world. Bills, insurance, total and utter responsibility for myself. I don't have a boyfriend and I'm already worried how I can provide for a family, help my children go through college.

Today, I graduated.

Bleh.

It's my last full day in this fake life we have been living in before we hit the real world.

I don't want to go there! The real world citizens offer me no comfort or consolidation...they are too far removed from the comforts of the imaginary place they were ripped from.

WHAT AM I SAYING?! This imaginary world was so harsh at times....the projects, the homework, juggling the responsibilites of homework, school, friends, family, work ... everyone expecting 100 % at all times.

But that's easily forgotten when you're facing 40 hour weeks for the rest of your life. I'll miss my four day week. Sleeping in every other day. Being done by noon.

Aren't you excited? Um...no.

Why not? Tell me why it's exciting?

You've worked for this for four years. --exactly, now my life isn't measured in incraments anymore. It's just one long span of time. Set on repeat. And i can't find the damn remote. I go to change it but the button is jammed. This was my destiny?

Why did I work for four years for this? That was just delaying it. Why didn't anyone tell me about this? How come alcoholics and murders get guidance and help but i'm left to suffer--stumbling around, trying to find the right path and then not fall off it?

BLEH.

Marilyn Manson, Sept. 11, 2001

"Our Cycle of Destruction" ~ ??

Our parents have shown us disfunction by angry words and constant battle, but as daylight fades the love seemingly returns. It is not love truly, but lust, so-called "animal instinct."

It's no wonder marriages don't last. Love, trust, understanding are not components invested as well as they should be.

We are the youth of the nation, dealing with violence, low self-esteem and other hazards of life, but does anyone care?

Now, as the teens of the 80s are turning 30, they are a whole new breed then those before them. Their paths are littered with broken relationships and failed marriages, hoping this next fling and the newest ring on their finger will mean they are a better, more complete person. They have children, at least two or three, and not by the same father.

So the cycle of destruction begins again ...


Notes:
--Attack on abortion (not prevention)
--Fear against educating about sex (no condoms or birth control knowledge)
--U.S. conservatives don't understand
--The rest of the U.S. isn't listening
--Ignorance
--No middle ground ... It's either too taboo or untouchable or in your face 24/7

In the wee hours in the morning, on a cocktail napkin

"Society Fallen" ~2001

Sex. In today's society it is every where you turn. We are bombarded by it every day in almost every way possible. It is used to sell anything and everything: shampoo to rice (Uncle Ben's rice bowls).

It has invaded every form of media.

Magazines with ad after ad of low rider jeans on beautiful bodies in sensual situations between articles using sexified advice to improve your career looks and love life.

Music with Britney Spears, devote in religion and a self-glorified virgin. Here is the role model for today's children: stripping off what little she was already wearing, dancing procatively and proclaiming "I'm not that innocent."

An Evening with the Girls

"Handwriting" ~ Somewhere in 2001-2002

One night, when we were baby-sitting Hailey and Erika, Mom was doing her very best (and everything she could think of) to keep Courtney quiet and happy. The girls and I had to find a quiet activity to keep ourselves amused. Somehow we ended up sitting in front of the refriderator where two dry erase boards were hanging.

Erika took the pen and began demonstrating her skills of penmanship.

Penmanship, handwriting and then cursive were always my foes in grade school. Their demonic grading scale ranged from H: the best, S+: very good, S: satsifactory, S-: just barely satisfactory. The loewst mark was P or U or somesuch thing as that. I don't remember what, but I know I received at least one for a quick assignment finished moments before it was handed in.

Random writing

When I get an idea for something I want to write about, i sketch it out, outline it or simply purge myself of the words within. Then I save it.

However, life gets in the way. Sometimes the words never become anything more ... just jottings on random pieces of paper or napkins, tucked away in my binder. But now they will again see the light of day ... or at least the waves of this blog.

"Organized Piles" ~ Oct. 2004

The biggest thing I have realized about myself since the move to Green Bay is that I am a stacker, that is, I make piles. I knew this at home in Stratford, but it is so evident I canot help to be amazed. It all began as we started packing. Boxes were stacked in the Barbie Doll room. Boxes and even random objects, one on top of annother, growing higher as each day passed.

For my first four days in Green Bay I lived amongst the piles that somehow followed me. Now, I have all the boxes gone, but the piles are still there. Under my desk, one side school folders the other supplies, books and pens. Under the sink in my bathroom, there's a container, but on top of that I have make up, toothpaste and the list goes on.

My shoes are stacked, I have my jeans in piles. My food is stacked in the pantry.

I guess the organized, if they are truly fitting of that title, stacks are okay. It's the random stacks that chip away at my sanity. For if they exist for too long they seem to take over my life. They're like feeding a Gremlin after midnight, they multiply and before I know it, I feel tiny and insignificant amongst the piles I created.