#8.

#7.

#6.

This apartment is
MINE.


:)

#5.

How hard it seems to be, to come across some true inspiration. I don't draw in my free time. I should.
I'm writing... now. But everything I have to say just feels so bland. Nothing to it.

I'm so boring. :(

It's gray outside today.
I'm at work for another 5 hours. Customers irritate me. Leave me alone. I don't want to answer your stupid questions about whether or not the over-priced dishes are dishwasher safe. Who cares? Go to Thrift Town or Goodwill & buy something that doesn't require wasting more resources & materials than we have. Jerk.

I wish I had a boy. I hate saying that. It sounds so petty. But, goddamn it. It's so true. I hate this lonely feeling constantly hovering just above me, then sinking low enough to cloud my brain with unbearable depression for at least an hour every day. Why am I so unwanted? I've dated, oh, say... 10 guys in the past year... & not a single one is interested in anything but what I've got to offer from the neck down. Fuckers. :(

Well shit. That last paragraph totally fucked up my mood. This is not going in a good direction.
I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere. I'm lonely everywhere I go, anyways.

This is not supposed to be an emo pity-me type of journal entry. I just need to write. I need to find a flow.

Flow.
Sticky sweet clouds. Whipped cream clouds.
Stop.

I have five $1 bills in my wallet. I am tempted to go to the cafe next door for some coffee.
I spent $140-something last night at Walmart, so as to re-furnish the kitchen/bathrooms in my apartment after my roommate leaves & takes everything. I only had $130-something in my bank account. That was the remainder of my paycheck. I don't get paid again for another 11 days. Oh damn.

I can't.

#4.

Dreams are funny things.
I have a few 'dream dictionaries'... those are funny things, too. How easy it would be to write a book, listing 1,000 or so symbols one might find in their dream (ie: banana, lace, airplane, bunny slippers, etc.) & make up some bull explaining their meaning and what the dreamer might expect to cross in the near future.
That might be something to look into... I'll add it to my list of goals/get-rich-quick-schemes.

Anyways. Back the present story.
Last night, I had two (?) dreams. (I include the ?, as they very well may have been two parts of the same dream... but the connection has since been lost.)

It should also be noted that last night, I attended a little get-together at Annie's, a friend. There, I saw Hiram, also a friend. I also went to Wal-Mart for the first time in several months yesterday. Ok.


Dream #1:
I am in Annie's house, which is not at all like her house in what we might refer to as "real life". I am there with Annie, my roommate-to-be: Kate & my cousin Shannon. Shannon and Kate are perhaps drunk? On Annie's wall, there are a series of dark brown wicker baskets hanging. In the one farthest to my left, I find a pile of clothing. I ask Annie about it- she says the clothes belong to Hiram. I decide that it is necessary to take these clothes to Hiram immediately. But first, I decide that it would be funny to dress up like Hiram, & then deliver his clothes looking like him. "What the fuck?" you might ask... me too. I ask Annie if she has any cut off shorts I could use. She points to a shelf near the ground- "those are Hiram's clothes, too. You can wear his cut off shorts." So, I do. Why I don't just fold the clothes I am intending on taking to him and put them on the shelf with the others, I do not know. I then, after going through all of Hiram's clothes, go into Annie's closet to find a flannel shirt. In Annie's closet, there is a quote painted on the wall. I do not remember it, but as I read it, I overhear Annie & her (in real life ex-)girlfriend fighting. They are apparently breaking up. As they fight in the other room, I search Annie's closet for a flannel. I find it. I put it on. It's perfect. Shannon, Kate & I go to Hiram's workplace, which in dream-life is apparently a Wal-Mart type of store, & present him with the clothes. He breaks out his guitar and serenades the entire store with a song of thanks. I am delighted.

Dream #2:
I am in my father's truck. He is driving. We are on our way to a barbecue or dinner of sorts hosted by a couple from the church my father attends. We get into an argument on the way there as to who will be in attendance. It is stupid and doesn't last long. We arrive. I see several other youth from the church which I recognize and say 'hello' to. I do not receive a warm welcome from them. They are eating. My father hands me a check to give to the hosts. As I look at it, I notice that he paid for 6 people, even though it is only the two of us. How generous, I think. At some point, I walk into a garage in which people are working/cleaning. I am asked to put away some refrigerators... by myself. The refrigerators are apparently supposed to hang from the ceiling on some kind of chain. I am to lift them and hang them from the chain... by myself. At this point... I wake.


So, obviously not the most exciting dreams. 
But it's interesting to record them & look for details I may have missed. I rarely write down my dreams. I should more often. I will.

#3.

Woah.
It's August.

#2.

I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing with this.
I guess it's just going to turn into a journal, for the most part. That's not very exciting.

Maybe I'll start recording my dreams on here.
Of course, that means I'll need to start writing them down first.
& before any of that, I need to start remembering my dreams, which probably means I should stop smoking pot.
Hmm... maybe not.

I could write some poetry,
& speak from my core.
Though I'm not very good
& that may be quite a bore.

I've been exploring Zen Buddhism a lot lately. I'll head to the Bodhi Manda Zen Center in Jemez Springs tomorrow or Monday for a few days. Perhaps I'll start writing about my experiences there.
Or... maybe words are lies & I should focus on being in the present moment.

-sigh-

Sorry folks.
Looks like it's The Life & Times of Dannie for now.

Bedtime, I suppose.
My apartment smells like fish.
Fuck you, roommate. Get your damn dirty fishbowl outta here.

#1.

I have never blogged extensively. Once in a while in high school... & always enjoyed it. But other than that- nada.

So. We'll try this out.

Sitting at work, what else is there to do?
Work? Surely not. Usually I'd just rot on Facebook for a few hours, but...

I deleted my Facebook on Wednesday. What a time waster. I didn't use it to write or keep in touch with people I haven't seen in year. I used it... for what? To look at other people's pictures, spy on my "friends" social lives, kill time? Why? Instead of looking at YOUR pictures, I could be out taking my own. Instead of reading about YOUR life, I could be living mine. Instead of commenting on YOUR relationship status, I could be cultivating a relationship closer to home. Finally- this realization stuck with me for more than a few fleeting seconds & I did what nobody expected out of me, a true Facebook-addict: I deleted it.
Of course, in order to do so I had to do a Google search on HOW exactly to go about deleting a Facebook. You see, the "deactivate" button is easy enough to find, but that's not deletion. I wanted it GONE. Not to resurface and take me back under ever again. I finally found the correct URL for the delete button & poof! Well... kind of. It is technically deactivated for 14 days, during which I can choose to reactivate if I change my mind. I do not plan on this happening... & hopefully Facebook stays true to it's word & after the 2 weeks are up, my account will be permanently deleted. Fuck you, Facebook. I have a garden to plant, books to read, languages to learn and art to make. Get out of my life.

Wooh. So now what?
I suppose I'll just read some Harry Potter, perhaps study some Japanese... & write about things that will more than likely be read by no-one. But that's ok.. because I'm fairly sure no-one but I cares about things I'm writing anyway.

My roommate is finally moving out. Today is the last day of July. Tomorrow, she is officially not longer a renter. She better be gone, 'cause I'm having a party & the living room needs to be CLEARED of her boxes of shit. YES. How excited am I? VERYFUCKINGEXCITED. :)
There is so much to do once she leaves! Redecorate! Throw parties! Have sex in the living room/kitchen/staircase! Go camping in the "backyard!" Leave dirty dishes on the coffee table! Get the cable television turned off! Buy furniture and accessories that don't match! Ahhh. How great it will be...
I hung a yellow curtain yesterday. Tied it with a red ribbon. Take THAT you boring bitch! It doesn't match the rest of the decor & it makes you crazy! HA! But you're leaving soon, so you can keep your mouth shut.
I also plan on putting a garden in on the back porch & buying a grill. I hope you regret being mean to me, because MY apartment is going to be immensely cooler than OUR apartment & you're going to wish you were invited to the parties you wouldn't let me have. So... there. :)

Hmm. Lunchtime.
I brought sticky rice & miso today. Score. Maybe I'd be able to go heat it in the microwave if all of these damn customers would leave... What a sales person I am.

Mmm. Well, my sticky rice isn't sticky anymore & the miso is out of a package, so it's not exactly what I'd hoped for... but good enough. Fills the tummy at least.

Three & a half more hours until I can close the store and head home. It's going to be so hot, walking home. Black pants were not the best idea, but it's too late now. Four miles isn't so bad. It's only an hour of torturous walking in the blasting sun while dirty old Mexican men honk and wave from their trucks. Then I'll finally be home, hopefully to find my living room empty, & take a nap. Then, shindig @ Annie's.

Until then... I think I'll continue re-reading the HP series for the 3rd time & then perhaps a crossword puzzle.
Nice meeting with you, Blogspot.