happy things

what the weekend gave me.

I got to spend a lot of cuddle time with Eric.
(Ahhh, drool drool, i know)

I really enjoyed the live shows I saw (Homespun, Sarah Jaffe, Doug Burr), not to mention our taping on the Gordon Keith Show. what a little trip.

made fried pickles and making a mess.

seeing Cindy Chaffin again really made me happy. I could listen to her talk for hours. Truly one of my favorite people to be with. It's not often I see her, but i usually get a little warm and fuzzy when i do:)

I just really love cold, I hope for more.

easily amused.

watching my dad cry laughing while instant messaging his grandson on yahoo. quite the event.

those embarassing moments

i cried for two hours and finally my eyes started to dry heave. There are no more tears left. It's hard to open my lids. This is humiliating for me. Being so vulnerable, and incapable of controlling my words, my heart and at times my life.
I came to the conclusion that i need therapy, actually meditation is more like it.... But what i mostly need is some faith. I forgot how secure I felt believing in god during my "christian" days. It's a nice feeling to hold a being higher than yourself responsible for the world, those around you and unpredictable things like my menstural cycle.
I'd like to devote some time believing in something bigger than me.
I need a hand. you see, I've fallen .
I'm to busy trying to track down the exact moment i lost myself, rather than figure out how to move forward. I'm also to busy making the disclaimer, " i know my life is good, and i have nothing to really be sad about". Then I quickly burst into crying and sobbing out my intestines along with every negative comment i can muster. It's wrong. I'm missing the point. I'm verbally sinking lower, and it's amazing how easy it is to skip the good and spill out the bad. Why, instead of trampling over the "life is good, i have nothing to be sad" part don't I then count the ways that life is good, before snot dripping tear streaming screams of why I'm so freaking sad. Why don't i retell myself all the good things that I have in my life, remind myself of all the great things that I have, all the gifts I'm blessed with, you know the ones that make it hard to believe i could be depressed? Then i bet it would be more tiring to be sad, and I could open my eyes better.
I know I have a light, it's well hidden. When I smile and mean it, you will know.

it's been almost a month since my last confession. :)

And ewww. i have nothing to say.

I'm so darn bummed. I feel a cold coming on.

I've started drinking dr. peppers again.

the quitting smoking thing is really tough.
i have the occasional stress ciggarette.

i'm bloated, it's terrible.

i'm just in a foul mood... all the time.

i'm waiting to write when something good hits.

it might be a while.

decembers get me grr.

november 15

james taylor should have wrote the soundtrack for this day.

i was ranch today.

i'm eating one of the four last choke cherry tree pickles that Eric bought my for my birthday in march. I managed to savor and cherish them for some time. There were 6 jars to begin with. I usually slice one giant pickle in 3-4 pieces and eat them throughout the course of the week. But i'm just gettin serious because i'm eating an entire pickle all alone... and loving it. I just don't want there to be no more. (i know that's not proper english, i like it)

i'm tired, but am satisfied. I've been up since 3:20 am. it's now 7:43 oops 7:44 pm and I've managed to keep myself occupied all day without napping. It's been eventful and i seriously felt a sense of appreciation and love all damn day. That feeling is worth staying up for.
All though i did a lot of spoiled alone time events... (and i shouldn't regret them) there are lots of grown up demands that i must not overlook. like applying for financial aid, setting up my 401k at work and washing my hair.
things to consider.

where i get ranch.
i had an outer body experience today while i was at the galleria mall. I was (me my actual self not the outer body) was sitting eating at the la Madeline's.... alone.
I always call "ranch" on people eating alone because i assume they would rather have company or don't have friends, or so forth. and it always makes me sad... typically the old folks who eat alone get me the worst, when they have food on there faces or make obnoxious facial expressions when chewing and staring blindly around... but the truth is maybe only 40% are ranch cases.. most are probably ok with dining alone and don't think anything of it.. But i thought, what if someone was walking by my table and called "ranch" on me for carrying my little dinner tray to my little alone table, spilling napkins all over the floor, eating alone and dribbling tomato basil soup all over my " camouflage mother courage and her children" t-shirt... i mean i'm really the worse offender.

yum,
Camille

Grums.

i'd like my hair to grow out please.. bangs too. I miss the long hair to hide my early morning, makeup-less face.

I'm awfully bummed right now. When I become overly concerned with the jones', I usually have less fun and become evil camille. I need to just focus on me and what i can do.
Grrr (x 1,000)